Tumgik
#are all gifs just him being salty
monstersinthecosmos · 6 months
Note
As a fellow Marius lover, I always find it kind of disheartening how most of the content/fandom talk about him (meta, fic, fanart, etc.) revolves around m/m ships (Marius/Armand in particular but I’d even go as far to include Marius/Daniel here) when, in my opinion, Marius is like the one male character in the VC universe whose relationships with women are far more interesting than his relationships with other men (the only other character might be Lestat but even then it’s pretty 50/50). They’re so monumental and so full of complexities and pain and so much love and they define him and inform his character in ways that I think, his relationships with men simply do not. Interesting/hot under the right circumstances? Sure but like ARE YOU GUYS SEEING THIS MAN??? AND HOW HE RELATES TO WOMEN??? It’s one of the best things Anne ever wrote and I can never get enough of it and it makes me sad how little content there is of it and I feel I can never say this out loud because I would never want to make people feel bad about what they ship (truly not my intention here) but ugh SO MUCH potential there for life changing discourse and meta about Marius and the women he’s loved and lost and have shaped who he is and there’s like… nothing.
Tl;dr the reason I’m sending this ask is because I’m a firm believer that you must be the change you want to see in this world and because YOU get it! And every time you post or write about Marius/Pandora (or Marius/Akasha! Or talk about Marius/Bianca) an angel gets its (black) wings. You are seen, you are loved and appreciated tysm <3
OKAY FIRST OF ALL THIS WAS SUCH A DELIGHT TO GET IN MY INBOX, SECOND IM GOING TO BE COMPLETELY HONEST AND ADMIT I FEEL TOO INCOHERENT TO TACKLE THIS TOPIC HAHA. I don’t feel articulate enough to do it justice. And I don’t say that to be obnoxious and self deprecating but like in all honesty idk how to synthesize it neatly but I think you’re sharing some GREAT IDEAS. 
I have to say this in bullet points because I don’t feel equipped to string this into a cohesive post:
Tumblr media
Marius was based on Anne’s husband, and Marius/Pandora was based on their marriage!!!!! And I think it explains a lot about why their relationship feels so fuckin POTENT to me, like it’s so genuine!!!!!!! And like knowing that I think it makes sense why she wrote him so HOT lol. Like she’s just writing thirsty stuff about her husband right? LOL
Also like insofar as there’s a lot of genderfluidity in VC there’s also something vaguely misogynist about it at times. And Anne Rice was a mega feminist and her work had so much womens lib in it!!!!! So I don’t think it’s intended as misogyny at all vs. Anne having conversations about gender and maybe her own relationship to gender. I think enough characters have said vaguely misogynist stuff that it makes me think it’s an Anne Problem vs being Watsonian. (This is also a historical/time period issue and we can discuss another time if and when vampires are supposed to break out of that when they transcend humanity and social constructs even when they’re still saying weird sexist shit at their big ages.) But I say that to say all VC characters are a tad sexist, even if perhaps she was writing with the intention of her own male power fantasy/male superiority/penis envy. AND THAT MAKES MARIUS VERY INTERESTING. 
Cause like really the three main ladies in his life (Akasha, Pandora, Bianca) DO define him so much! And we don’t see him pine for Armand the way he did for any of them! Why!!!
Like there’s that aspect of sexism where women can be infantilized by men who don’t think they’re being unkind and it makes me wonder, especially when the author is a boomer, like where is that line between condescension and respect? I don’t have an answer here, this is too big-brained for me LOL but like he is SO devoted to the women in his life and I just wonder like if he sees them as creatures unlike himself, you know? 
This is headcanon territory but I bet he’s such a fucking sub to Pandora lol and it just thrills me that he spent 2000 years begging Akasha for affection and she ignored him the whole damn time wow. And he continued to simp!
AND ALSO LIKE, I think people DO NOT DISCUSS THIS OFTEN ENOUGH, but did we forget that he chose Armand because he needed a Bianca rebound? He was absolutely TORTURED by his love for Bianca and picked Armand because he didn’t want to kill her oh my god. Oh my god!!! HE KEPT HER LETTER IN HIS POCKET OVER HIS HEART OKAY??? HE DIDN’T WANT TO DRAG HER INTO HIS COLD AND FATAL DOMAIN????? Fuck lol
It’s so fucked up that he didn’t go after Armand but spent like actual fucking millennia trying to find Pandora. HE KNEW EXACTLY WHERE ARMAND WAS AND LEFT HIM THERE LOL BUT PANDORA HAUNTED HIM EVERY NIGHT OF HIS LIFE FOR CENTURIES.
After everything he wound up spending like 200 years with Bianca or something and ?????? CORRECT because Bianca was the fledgling he actually wanted!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But it’s odd, I know I’ve said this 337589235 times, but Marius like. Has an idea of the person he wants to be and he tries SO HARD to live by logic & reason and he just can’t reconcile with the fact that he has EMOTIONS. And so like part of the person he wants to be like, open/empathetic/wise and he begs his lovers/students/fledglings to CHALLENGE HIM when he’s not actually healed enough to be challenged? And to me there’s something kinda like, extra spicy about it when you’re in Rice World and you’re a lil sexist; how much that burns EXTRA when it’s Pandora or Bianca sticking up to you or AKASHA FUCKIN IGNORING YOU. 
Just really incredible that this person who is like the epitome of a patriarch has such fucked up relationships with all the women in his life. And like he underestimates these women, like the way he tries to manipulate Bianca and she leaves him! PANDORA AND AKASHA ARE UNAVAILABLE TO HIM AND BIANCA FUCKIN LEAVES.
akasSHA JUST IGNROING HIM!! JUST STRAIGHT UP FUCKIN IGNORING HIM FOR 2,000 YEARS!!!! HE'S OBSESSED WITH HER!
Tumblr media
Anyway Enkil is ignoring him too but he doesn’t give a shit about that guy tbh lol 
Also the amount of space he gives Eudoxia and Zenobia in his book like there’s more here too but tbh it’s midnight and I can’t start unpacking. I just think like, in 2000 years it’s interesting how Eudoxia wound up having such a lasting impact on his life. 
I did just peek at the Eudoxia part and I’m dying, he goes “Her face was small, oval, and as close to perfection as anything I've ever beheld, even though she bore no resemblance to Pandora who was for me perfection itself.” CERTIFIED WIFE GUY.
What kinda mommy issues are we dealing with here? HIS MOTHER WAS A SLAVE THAT DIED IN CHILDBIRTH AND HE INHERITED HER GENES AND LOOKED LIKE HER AND DIDN’T LOOK LIKE HIS FATHER & BROTHERS? AND HE’S SORT OF AN OUTCAST AS A HUMAN LIKE ? THE STIGMA HERE? AND THEN HE SPENDS 2000 YEARS WORSHIPPING HIS NEW MOTHER??? PERHAPS YOU COULD SAY ENSLAVED TO HER? IDK MAN. 
IS THIS ALSO WHY HE WAS SO OBSESSED WITH LOSING PANDORA?
The irony too, and something I think a lot of people miss, is that he DIDN’T WANT TO MARRY PANDORA LOL. He wanted to be betrothed to a child so that he could FUCK OFF and NOT get married because she wasn’t old enough to get married! He fucked off! He went exploring! He said this is not for me! 
AND TO GO OUT INTO THE WORLD AND BE MURDERED BY HIS MOTHERS PEOPLE???? IDK. 
I’m not sure how these last two points tie into anything but I just wanted to mention his complicated relationship with Pandora and his own heritage lol. And then Akasha like DELIVERS Pandora to him because she’s like “wow this guy needs somebody lol and I am not emotionally available” — Akasha who was famously a violent genocidal radfem and who would not approve of his relationship with Armand but explicitly allowed him to have Pandora and Bianca. IDK WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN! 
Did Akasha approve of these women because she knew Marius was completely pussywhipped and would worship them and she wanted to see someone mommydom the fuck out of him and she knew that Armand would never be that person? 🫢
And again I want to say like, taking the author into consideration!! Anne Rice had a HORRIFIC relationship with her mom so you see these themes pop up occasionally in her work. DESPITE ALL OF THAT SHE IS STILL A FEMINIST AND WRITES ABOUT MATRILINEAR FAMILIES like The Great Family or the Mayfairs. But thinking about Mothers in Anne Rice Works makes me think a lot about this like, the damage they can do and the voids they can leave even when you’re a feminist and love women! You see a TON of this with Gabrielle and I always think that Lestat & Marius are such similar characters that you can do a lot of extrapolating or backwards engineering to ask questions about them and how they work, since we get SO MUCH Lestat POV in this series to work with and how we can zoom out sometimes and ask like, what is common across her entire body of work and what is more specifically common between Lestat & Marius and WHAT EVEN MORE INTERESTINGLY is a result that they were both based on her husband in their inceptions. 
Like how much of this has to do with Marius’s actual feelings towards men vs women on purpose, or how much was subconscious author bias, how much was simply that Anne Rice based him on her husband and she was THIRSTY, idk. It’s always hard to say in VC because Anne was such an intuitive and self-indulgent author and the stories are so weird!!! So your mileage may vary!
But I agree with you that these are FASCINATING relationships!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And I like Marius/Armand too (I recently made a post about how I didn’t “””””ship”””” them but then I spent 2 months working on a M/A fic every day and now I think I’ve corrupted and converted myself LMAO) but yeah like. There’s such a lack of substance between them in the end. He treats Armand like he’s temporary, fucks up and moves on, and it’s such a departure from how DEVOTED he was with all his other partners. 
Wow I didn’t think I had a lot to say, sorry about that. !!! EVERY TIME I BROUGHT A POINT UP I THOUGHT OF 5 MORE POINTS GOSH I COULD TALK ABOUT MARIUS ALL DAY.
40 notes · View notes
r0semultiverse · 10 months
Text
Hebiichigo didn’t need to die to further develop Metal Lee’s character. I still stand by this.
Tumblr media
Kagura also didn’t need to die to further the story!
Tumblr media
30 notes · View notes
thelassoway · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ted Lasso S01E01 Pilot || Ted Lasso S02E12 Inverting the Pyramid of Success Salty
50 notes · View notes
ohdeerfully · 2 months
Note
hiii! this is my first request on tumblr but i jus love alastor sm and there is NOT enough fics for me out there. so im asking u❤️
what abt alastor being jealous of someone else in the hotel? for example: angel dust, he puts on music and you two are dancing with eachother happily not noticing the red eyed demon with a tight grin. 🥰
Hii! Honestly after writing this I realized I didn't follow the prompt exactly, less jealousy and more Alastor being overprotective. Oh well! Hope you like it anyway :D!
Tumblr media
Be Back Soon (i)
alastor x reader (fluff? alastor is just overprotective) part i TW: Cursing/Angel existing if you want tagged in the next part, lmk! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══
Your fingers dragged down the skin around your eyes as you let out a long sight, sitting at Husk’s bar with shoulders propped on the cold counter. What a day it had been, running around in the typical chaos of the hotel as Charlie tried to get some group bonding activities finished. It was getting late, and you just finally had a moment of peace.
“‘Ey, toots!” The chipper voice broke your peace and you couldn’t help it when another audible sigh escaped you. The culprit of the broken science paid no mind.
Turning your head, you narrowed your eyes and made eye contact with the lanky pink spider. You were a little salty at him in particular, being one of the main catalysts to the everyday insanity. He had an easy grin played upon his lips as he stared back down at you with his multicolored eyes, one pair of arms on his hips that jutted out a little too unnaturally in a mischievous pose. His golden tooth glinted under his light grin with a similar air of “hey I’m up to no good right now.”
“You look fuckin’ tired!” He barked a laugh, dramatically squeezing his eyes shut in a theatrical show of laughing in your face. It really wasn’t that funny, and you couldn’t stop the frown that touched your lips as you watched him. He took pride in being the way he was. Annoying.
“No thanks to you, Angel,” You clipped back. You turned your head to watch Husk, who was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. He had become an expert in ignoring the spider demon’s presence, which was how he managed to stay sane with said demon’s constant flirting and sexual nature.
“Anyway,” He waves away your targeted words with a wave of his hands as his eyes roll up. “I was thinkin’ we get outta here for the night? Me and Cherri were gonna have a “girl’s night.”” You briefly thought about the humor in Angel admitting to being ‘one of the girls,’ but pushed the thought away to consider his invitation. “It wouldn’t hurt ta get some fresh air. This place is real stuffy sometimes, and a huge snooze fest,” he persuaded. He rested his face on one pair of hands, fingers laced under his chin, as he leaned against the bartop in anticipation for your answer.
You purse your lips in thought. It wouldn’t hurt, right? You didn’t go out clubbing a lot, and with Angel and Cherri with you surely nothing wrong would happen. They looked out for their friends, and you would (maybe regretfully) consider yourself Angel’s friend. You glanced at Husk for a moment, as if looking for advice, but his eyes remained close and his lips had an annoyed curl. Maybe you should get out of his hair.
“Okay, okay,” You grinned, a little sheepishly. While you couldn’t really consider ‘fresh air’ to be a feature of Hell, you agreed that you needed to just Get Out of this place. Running errands for Charlie got mundane, even with all the strange characters that cycled through the place. One tends to get used to the chaos.
Angel stretched his arms up in a cheer, which earned a one-eyed, aggravated look from Husk. He uttered something under his breath before grabbing a bottle and walking to the other corner.
“Alright, sweet lips,” Angel cooed at you. “Let's get you dressed! You got anything decent up in your closet?”
Your hand found its way to the back of your neck as you answered sheepishly, “Eh, not really… At least, not for a night out. I don’t really do much outside of the Hotel.” Angel frowned at the response, tapping his chin in thought.
“Lemme take a look,” With a swipe of his arm, your hand was suddenly being held as he dragged you up the steps toward the floor of your room.
Walking down at the same time, you briskly passed by Alastor, who had his eyes closed and a hum in his mouth. His blazing red eyes peered open as you and Angel rushed past him, a quizzical furrow in his brow seeing the connection between your hands. You shot him a shy grin and craned your head back to shout a quick ‘I’ll explain in a minute,’ before you disappeared around the bend of the stairs.
You didn’t miss the dark gleam in his eyes.
Angel, in an attempt to dramatically burst through your door, slammed full body into the entrance. “Ah- the hell?” He cried, roughly jiggling the handle.
“I keep it locked,” you snickered at him and the disheveled look in his usually preened hair. You saw him take his hands to brush it out as you fiddled with the lock, an annoyed mutter of words escaping his lips. The second the door clicked, Angel shoved past you and reattempted his dramatic burst through the entrance with a bit more luck this time around.
He went straight for your closer, rummaging through this and that. What a breach of privacy, this guy is, you thought with a strained smile as you stepped up next to him to try to guide him through your very Ordinary and Plain clothes.
You felt a prickling sensation on your skin, and you swear you heard a frequency of low static, but when you whipped your head around nothing stood there. Did that shadow just move?
Shaking your head, you looked at the piece Angel held proudly in his hands, one pair of arms gripping the top and the second pair pulling the bottom out to really get a full inspection.
It was incredibly simple, but still a bit more revealing than anything you were used to wearing. A deep red top, so cropped it may as well be a sporty bra, with a couple eye-catching accents of rhinestones. Connected with thin straps was a similarly tight pair of booty shorts. Your face flushed at the thought of wearing this. It was practically lingerie.
“Isn’t it a bit, uh, tacky?” You tried in an attempt to dissuade him from this getup. He acted offended, one hand going and pressing against his fluffed chest. You didn’t miss the way he took this as an opportunity and pressed up against himself to perk up his mass of chest fur.
“Babe, I wear shit like this all the time! You tellin’ me,” He started a rant, shaking the clothes in a fit of mock rage. “You tellin’ me I’m tacky? Hah! Me! Angel Dust!” He wiped away a fake tear in his laughter.
Your face flushed again looking at the getup. With a defeated mutter you swiped it from his hands and trekked painfully slowly to the restroom. You ignored Angel’s urgency for you to ‘hurry the hell up’ because it was almost time to get going.
You slowly stripped yourself of your day clothes, gingerly stepping through the tight shorts and tucking your arms through the straps of the top. You didn’t even remember buying this thing, it had been stuffed far in the back of your closet. You couldn’t help the feeling of dread thinking about the other embarrassing things Angel might have seen in there. Though, you doubt anything could phase that guy.
You had to admit, looking at your reflection, that it did accentuate your curves, even if you didn’t have much to begin with. The rhinestone accents glittered in the bathroom light, obviously designed in a way to bring attention to the chest. The straps that connect the two pieces fit snugly against your exposed torso. You were suddenly glad Hell never got that cold.
“Almost ready!” You snapped at Angel calling from the other side of the door. You quickly threw on some touches of makeup, trying your best to compliment the shades of your outfit and adding some glittery makeup around your eyes. You quickly dragged your fingers through your hair to style it comfortably.
You ripped open your door just as fists started banging on it. Angel stood there with two arms raised, stopped midair to keep himself from decking you in the head. You glared up at him, trying to maintain your earlier sourness to hide the fact that the outfit had grown on you.
“Hey, sexy lady!” Angel teasingly leaned himself against the doorframe with a smirk. “Let’s fuckin’ go! You took too damn long! Cherri hates waitin’.”
Grabbing your hand again, he ushered you out of the room. As you raced down the stairs, you tried to continuously preen your hair to keep it from flying out of shape as Angel practically drug you down each step.
He slowed at the bottom, releasing your hand, and stepping towards Husk’s bar to aggravate and flirt with the cat one last time before heading out. You tuned out his sexual innuendoes as you tried to glance over yourself one last time.
“My, what a dame you are!” Alastor’s recognizably radio-afflicted voice ripped your attention away from picking at a loose rhinestone. He stood over you, a slight bend in his waist and an unnatural crane in his neck. His smile was there, but tight and uneasily wide as he examined you through squinted eyes. He leaned his weight against his cane.
Swallowing your unease, you examined his expression. You knew Alastor didn’t care for such… promiscuous outfits. Especially on what he considered his. You knew his compliment was satirical, and you didn’t miss that glint of anger flash through his expression.
“Heyy, Al,” You drew out your words, unintentionally accentuating the awkward tone between the two of you. He paid no mind, keeping up that seemingly cheerful grin of his as he just… stared at you. His fingers tapped impatiently on the radio of his cane, each tap bringing a warp to the frequency that always surrounded him. “I’m going out with Angel tonight. Y’know… to get some air…”
“My dear,” His eyes closed in a laugh and he straightened himself out. “Why would you ever go out there for fresh air? Now, you know those demons would just eat you right up.” A dark sneer infected his smile, lips curling and exposing the line of his black gums.
“‘Ey c’mon, Smiles,” Angel stepped up next to you and lazily threw an arm over your shoulder. You saw that sneer only deepen as Alastor watched the spider get way too close to you. “Give ‘er a break! She’s always runnin’ around doin’ shit for this bum-ass hotel! It makes her… boring!” 
You didn’t know whether or not to appreciate Angel both defending and insulting you. You decided to just ignore his comments as you watched Alastor’s expression get darker and more sinister. You felt a cold sweat prickle at your neck as that static-y frequency of his became more prominent and aggressive as his eyes swept over the two of you, lingering on your exposed abdomen with a frustrated twitch in his brow.
“Why, of course!” He suddenly cheered, brandishing his hands to his side in a slight bow. “But…” He stepped towards you, looming over you. You felt that nervous tickle again. His right hand raised and, with a quick motion, a fairly modest jacket materialized around your shoulders. “All better! Wouldn’t want greedy eyes seeing what’s mine!”
How bold, you thought. He was from the ‘30s, though, and very old fashioned. It made sense that immodest wear bothered him. Plus, you looked down at the jacket. It had a similar color scheme, and was light enough to not be too warm. At least it goes with my outfit. How sweet.
You felt a bit giddy at the permission Alastor had given you–not that you needed it. (You did). You’re a grown ass adult. (It doesn’t matter). You shot him a smile of thanks before dashing out the door, meeting Cherri who had been frequently laying on the car horn for you to Hurry the Fuck Up.
Before Angel Dust could follow, a tight grip on one of his wrists stopped him in his tracks. He hissed, yanking his arm but to no avail. Alastor’s grab was like iron, and his nails began to dig into Angel’s skin.
“Hey you fuck, let me go! I gotta get out there before Cherri starts blowin’ this shit up!”
Alastor pulled Angel in closer, a sneer-like grin crossing his expression. There was a maddening look in his glowing red eyes.
“If she comes home with even the smallest scrape,” He said in a low tone, the garble of his radio slightly distorting his voice. “I’m going to make you wish you never came to this Hazbin Hotel.”
Alastor’s grip didn’t yield as Angel tried again in a futile attempt to release himself. He had a nervous laugh in his voice as he tried to act unintimidated by the Radio Demon’s threat.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, you creepy red fuck,” He gruffed back, “Me an’ Cherri will stick right by her. You don’t gotta worry about nothin’.” Alastor’s expression shifted in an instant, his cheerful grin reappearing. He stood up straight and smiled down at Angel. “Good man! Now, don’t be too long,” He shooed Angel out of the lobby, who was more than glad to get the fuck out of there. He heard a faint ‘I’ll be watching’ from behind as he slammed the car door shut, muttering curses under his breath.
He knew Alastor would send that damn shadow of his to keep a close eye, so why the fuck did Angel have to babysit you in the first place? Plus, you weren’t some weak, naive fool. Whatever. He knew Alastor would take any excuse to cause some entertaining mayhem.
He sighed as he looked at you, who had a nervous but excited grin as Cherri rambled and cursed about something.
Maybe he shouldn’t have invited you out. He knew he was in for a long, stressful night. Good think there would be a bar.
2K notes · View notes
Text
Warning || Men Like Me
Masterlist
Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: girth age gap, virgin!reader, eventual loss of virginity (not in this chapter), gratuitous descriptions of Joel Miller's body, somewhat creepy!Joel, fetishization of youth, dom!Joel, breaking and entering, playboy magazine, objectification, fingering, sexual discoveries. Word count: 6.2k Summary: Joel's warnings about what men like him would do to girls like you only makes you want him more. A/N: Back in the depths of hell again, you guys. Now this isn't the most depraved thing I've written by any means but it's up there. Come say hi in my chat or inbox, I'd love to talk. Keep a look out for follow up parts and pleeeeease give me comments. I am very very desperate.
Tumblr media
Joel Miller was a bad man. That much he knew. 
Even as he fixed taps and renovated houses that were falling apart, he could see the blood on his hands. The very hands that packed lunches for Ellie snapped necks, pistol whipped men, stole from a starving child so he could feed his grown brother. But there were lows even he didn’t stoop down to. 
Not that he didn’t have the opportunity. Men always did. And in this world, opportunities had only tripled. Even the Boston QZ, as strict as it was, had an underground brothel. He knew Tess to frequent it and never asked questions. Sometimes she needed to bury her face between a good pair of thighs and wrap her lips around a pretty pussy, and this wasn’t something he could give her. There was a lot he couldn’t give her.
Being in Jackson should’ve civilized him. It did in many ways. He’d reverted to the southern gentleman with table manners. ‘Yes, Ma’am’ spilled out of his lips effortlessly when he spoke to women. He held the door for anyone walking in after him. He even went to Church– sorry, the multifaith house of worship–to help renovate. 
That was where his troubles began. 
There was no point in him going where people prayed. Being back in civilization did not erase his decades of disbelief in a cruel God who would take his baby and keep him on this accursed Earth. But he did because he was back to being a contractor and Tommy asked him to go fix up the pews instead of him. He didn’t have much time, being a new dad and all.
He was on his knees checking out the rotting wood and evaluating how much wood he’d need for building new ones when he was confronted by a pair of legs and a sweet voice. Yours. 
“Lemonade, Mister Miller?” 
He looked up, his eyes traveling up your legs, bare until he got to your knees where the hem of your flowery skirt sat. Pure, unblemished knees, never taken a fall, didn’t fucking creak, and never knelt before anyone but God. You looked down sweetly, eyes wide and innocent like a newborn cow. Everyone had a kind of darkness about them in this world. Everyone except the kids who didn’t know a world outside the insular walls of Jackson. And you, it turned out, even though you weren’t a kid.
He wiped his sweat off with the greasy rag he carried and looked up at you once again. You had a pitcher and an empty glass in your hands. A sweet smile on your lips and hair falling down your shoulders and reaching your breasts. A yellow ribbon sat in a bow where your neckline dipped between your breasts, adding to the innocence of your look.
“Yes please, Ma’am. Thank you,” he said, giving you a nod. Your pretty plush lips curled up, a giggle escaping them as you poured him a glass of lemonade. 
His hand brushed against yours as he accepted the glass, his hand too large to curl around it without making contact with you. You giggled again before retracting your hand and occupying it with adjusting your hair. 
“I’m younger than you, you know? Don’t have to call me Ma’am.” 
“Just being polite. Ma’am.” He took the glass to his lips, mindful to take only a small sip instead of downing it in desperation. Another adjustment to make when food was no longer a scarcity. Sweet, sour, and salty danced on his tongue before it glided down his throat. Just a sip refreshed him. And the sight of a nice girl didn’t hurt the cause either. 
It’d been so long since he had a nice refreshing glass of lemonade. Summers meant worse infestations of infected, not the barbecues, lemonades, and swimming of past. When surviving each hour was under threat, small luxuries like this became out of reach of even one’s dreams.
“Well, guess I should call you Sir then,” you said, leaning against the wall. You held the pitcher up to your chest and the tails of the ribbon on your chest dipped into it, the soft shiny yellow turning dark, tainted.
His mouth watered and fucking hell, it wasn’t the lemonade you just gave him. He took a sip of the drink and licked his lips, imagining how you’d taste if he wrapped his large hand around your neck and pressed his chapped lips to your plush ones. Better yet, if he held your legs apart and devoured you other pair of lips until you were leaking down his mouth. Would you call him Sir then? His cock twitched in his jeans as he pictured you bent over one of these pews, your skirt pushed up and his hand in your hair as he slid his cock in your hole. 
Jesus fucking Christ! What the fuck was wrong with him? 
“Made the lemonade yourself?” He asked,  groaning as he managed to get himself back up on his feet. His knees creaked like the floorboards of the houses he renovated, but ultimately supported him as he stood. He towered over you, making you appear smaller, more fragile. 
“Depends. Do you like it?” 
“It’s wonderful, of course. Hot summer day like this…I really needed it,” he said, raising the glass up a little before taking another sip. 
“Well then yes, I did make it.”
He chuckled, feeling himself pulled in by your easy charisma. It was nice to have normal conversations like this once again. No agenda, no need for establishing himself as someone who wouldn’t hesitate to beat someone up if even mildly threatened. It was just…normal. 
“It’s very sweet, Ma’am. Like you I assume,” he added, mentally dusting off the part of his brain where he stored skills for conversing with pretty girls.
You laughed, holding your free hand up to your mouth to cover your lips that widened and revealed your teeth. 
“Is that the southern charm that I hear our townspeople talk about?” 
“They talk about my charm? I didn’t hear.” 
“Oh yes, they do… Joel Miller, charming pants off of everyone in town.”
“Pants? Well that’s disappointing. I was hoping I’d charmed some pretty skirts off.” 
“Lots of experience with that, Mister Miller?” you asked, sliding your hand over the soft fabric of the skirt of your dress. Such delicate fabric. He could fist the hem and give it one tug and it’d rip right off.
“More ‘n what you got for sure,” he said, loath to hint at how infrequent his encounters had become in the recent past. Tess died, he did a cross country hike with an annoying kid, he needed to maintain a good reputation in his new town. One buried after the other. Enough to leave a man with nothing but his fist and his imagination. He would kill for a fucking Playboy magazine. Literally. He’d killed for less.
“What do you know about how experienced I am?” 
“Been experiencing longer than you’ve been alive, Ma’am.” 
“Oh well. Nothing I can’t learn.” 
He laughed nervously and stuck his hand in his jeans pocket. Surely you couldn’t be flirting… Why would a young thing like this flirt with him? He was in his late fifties looking like mid sixties and you were… He didn’t know. Young.
“If you could teach me, Mister Miller. Give a girl some experience?”
“I’m sure you can find someone else.” 
“Oh. Not your type, am I?” you asked, and he deluded himself thinking you sounded disappointed. No chance. 
He didn’t have a type. Long time since he thought of frivolous shit like that. But you shouldn’t be his type. 
“There’s much more eligible men in town is what I’m saying,” he said, suddenly hesitant to lie. Lying had never been an issue for him. The right thing was to lie, say you weren’t his type so he wouldn’t cross lines. It’d been a long time since he did the right thing.
“I’ll be the decider of that,” you said with a shrug of your shoulder before taking the empty glass from him. “Have a good rest of the work day, Mister Miller.”
Later that night, he wrapped his fist around his cock in the privacy of his room. His mind flooded with images of you spread out for him, sweet lips and a sweeter pussy milking him. He couldn’t even recall the last time he was with a woman. It was Tess, of course. Sometime before she got thrown in FEDRA jail for the last time. Too fucking long ago.
Surely it was only because it’d been a long time since he got his dick wet. He’d never, in his entire life, pictured a woman so much younger spreading her legs for him. Sucking his cock. Crying out his name. How old was she even? Not past mid twenties for sure.
It was wrong, he knew, as white hot spend spurted out of his cock and covered his hand. A sour tang took over his mouth as the fog of unadulterated lust cleared up to reveal the ugliness in his head. He shuddered, feeling like something had crawled under his flesh. He hadn’t felt guilt like this in so long. 
Wrong, wrong, wrong. 
You weren’t even as old as his kid would be had she been alive. 
He’d known men like that back in the day. Grays in their hair and skin like old leather, but pretty young things old enough to be their daughter hanging off their arm. It was obvious that none of them kept these girls around for love or for their personality. It was always sex and the feeling of self-importance when a sweet young thing paid attention to balding heads, beer bellies and limp dicks that needed a blue pill to get up. 
Fucking disgusting. 
He began avoiding you whenever you happened to be in the same space. At the house of worship, the town clinic where you interned, trading days when people exchanged what they had for what they wanted. His eyes never met yours and he always quickly looked away when they stared too long at your uh…feminine features– pretty legs, cute ass, round tits. Where the fuck did you get sundresses anyway? Who kept that shit around in this world? 
He didn’t know that when he avoided you, you took note of him. When he took glances of your features, you memorized his for later in the night when you buried your head in your pillow and pushed your fingers inside your pussy to simulate what it must be like to be with a man. 
He was older. That much you knew from his grey hair, sun-damaged skin, and gait that exuded bone-deep weariness. You knew Tommy had just turned fifty. Hard to miss occasions that meant a free slice of cake from the canteen. Joel had to be in his mid-fifties at the very least. At first glance, he wasn’t what you’d consider handsome. There were younger men in town. Fit and muscular. Didn’t groan and scrunch up their faces when they got up. Didn’t have lines on their foreheads. No bags under their eyes. 
Yet there was something about Joel that was more entrancing. 
After your first meeting when you offered him lemonade, you made sure to visit under the guise of worship. You didn’t know much about religion and were conflicted about embracing a god. The only faith you had rested in your medical instruments and the medicines the town’s chemist concocted. But it was a nice place to meet people, to check on healing patients.
The visits were worth it for a glimpse of Joel’s large hands wrapped around his carpentry tools. When the sun was the hottest, he sometimes stripped down to his tank top, giving you a show better than any film played in the community theater. His broad back looked masculine enough in his flannel shirts. But you didn’t know desire like the first time you saw him in a white tank, showing off his muscular arms as sweat dripped down his tan skin.
When you pleasured yourself in your room, it took time, imagination, your fingers, and a lot of effort to make slick pool in your pussy. That day, all it took was the sight of Joel Miller working. You sat with your thighs pressed together, rubbing them against each other in the most inconspicuous little movements. 
Could it be blasphemy if the God who was supposedly orchestrating everything made this man take his shirt off in front of you?
It made no fucking sense. Joel was old. He looked like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed every goddamn day. He had been chewed up and spat out by whatever the fuck was outside Jackson these days. Hardened expressions, graying patchy beard, hands calloused from carpentry and decades of using weaponry. Features that only indicated a long life lived, not attractiveness.
You were supposed to be attracted to the soft, sweet ones like the guys in the worn out copies of romance stories that the previous inhabitant of your house stashed in the basement. Even his little brother would be a more reasonable target for your lust. Younger, taller, softer, head full of dark, silky hair with few grays. But you wanted Joel Miller with his rough graying beard that would prick your skin were you to cup his cheek like the women on the novel covers. 
Something about him just screamed Man. Something that none of the other guys in town had. There was nothing wrong with any of the other Jackson men, but none of them made you want to take the plunge and lose your virginity. It wasn’t the lack of offers, per se. You’d gotten looks from many eligible Jackson bachelors. You had drinks with a few of them. Dinner with fewer and shared a kiss with more than one. Alright, two. But anything beyond that had you trembling in anxiety. 
It wasn’t anything precious to you, virginity. But you’d waited so long. Focused so long only on survival and then helping to build this town and now training to become a doctor. Whatever passed for doctor these days. With all your life dedicated to everything but your love life, you simply had no experience. What if you messed up and they laughed? You knew anatomy, but that didn’t translate to practical stuff. What if you couldn’t make them feel good? You’d have to see the guy all the damn time in the small town. There would be no escaping the awkwardness.
Sure it was counterintuitive to keep pushing away sexual encounters because you had no experience. But you didn’t know what else to do. You were too old already to not have done anything. But each day that passed with you rejecting perfectly nice men meant you were getting even older for your first time. 
You didn’t know where Joel fit into your need for exploring your sexuality, but it didn’t hurt to stare. God knew everyone else in Jackson did. 
So you stared. Work with his carpentry tools. Riding on horseback into Jackson after patrol. Helping with the fucking sheep. Walking around with Tommy. Carrying his nephew around town. It should be inappropriate to be fantasizing about a man when he was doing something as innocent as carrying a baby. But seeing his large hand cradling the baby’s little head made you want to scream into your pillow and kick your legs. 
“You alright, sweetheart?” 
Your heart fluttered and you let out a nervous laugh at being caught. You smoothed out the wrinkles on your clothes just to make it look like you were alright. Unfortunately you were wearing a pair of fucking jeans. You didn’t even want to know how awkward you looked. 
“‘m alright, Mister Miller.” 
“Joel’s fine,” he said, rocking his nephew in his arms.
Oh fuck, his fucking arms!
“Oh I don’t know,” you said, fidgeting with a belt loop on your jeans. “Wouldn’t want to be impolite addressing you by your first name like that.”
He smiled, recalling your conversation from the house of worship when you called him Sir and had him fucking himself in the shower to the memory. “Ah. ‘cause I’m an old man,” he said, more as a reminder to himself to fucking behave. 
“You’re not that old…” you trailed, looking him over in a way that set fire to every inch of skin that you laid eyes on.
Behave, Miller. You’re out with your nephew. 
“That so?” he asked, eyebrow raised. 
“Mhmm. You don’t look a day over seventy.” 
He snorted, making Miles stir in his arms just a little. That stung a little. It shouldn’t. Your estimation of his age, whether you were serious or not, was reminder enough that he was too old to be lusting after you.
“Thanks. I’m actually eighty-two.” 
You giggled your pretty little giggle, lowering your gaze to the ground and looking back up only when it had turned into a wide grin. “How old are you actually?”
“Old. Fifty six.” 
“Fifty-six isn’t that old…” you trailed as you brought a hand up to his bicep. Joel gulped, praying to the non-existent God that you would stop before praying to the same God that you would keep your hand right there. God answered his second prayer. You squeezed, licked your lips and looked up at him with your doe eyes.
“Checking if the hardware is still working, Doctor?” 
“I’m not a doctor yet.” 
“When do you become one then? Ain’t no Harvard handing out medical degrees in this town.”
“Howard?” you asked, squinting at him. Ah, of course you didn’t know. Harvard didn’t mean the same thing to you. Now it was just like every other building in Boston. Run over by infected. These ones were just the nerdy kind with glasses on.
“That was a thing, too. But I said Harvard. They were big universities back then.”
“Ah. Did you go there?” You asked, with no malice or bite. Oh, bless your heart. No one expected a dummy like him to have gone to university at all, much less Harvard. No one in his family had gone. Sarah was meant to be the first.
“Yeah. Traded some oxy and threw molotovs at clickers in the campus.” 
You rewarded him with a giggle and that was incentive enough for him to keep going. “Guys like me didn’t get into Harvard. Or Howard. Didn’t even go to community college. I finished high school and got a job in construction.” 
“You didn’t go to uh…construction college?” You asked, cocking your head and raising an eyebrow as though testing out the term.
“No such thing. Well, there were civil engineering programs, but I just learned on the job.” 
“Like me.” 
“Guess so. I see you reading from all those fat medical books. But there’s no need to study any books in construction. ‘cept if you wanna be an engineer or architect or something, which I’m not.” 
“Maybe you should write one. We could all do with some knowledge from before. It’s important to document it, pass it on to Ellie and little Miles over there.” 
“I ain’t writing books, sweetheart. Don’t think I even remember how to write much. I’ll just keep to fixing things up in this town. So, if you need some help with your place…I’m happy to help.” It was the least he could do. Maybe as some kind of penance for having impure thoughts about you. Or as a fucked up trade for starring in the mental images he conjured to jack off in the shower.
“There is something, actually. But I don’t have anything to trade for, so I’ll wait until I do,” you said, clasping your hands behind your back and swaying in place in an endearing manner.
“Nonsense. You patched me up just last week. You’ve done enough for the town’s health to not have to trade for anything ever again.” 
“Well, no. That’s not how it should be… It’s people’s health. Can’t put a price on that.”
“Believe it or not, health had a steep price back in the day. Cost four thousand something just to give birth. Double that if they had to cut you open.” And that was just how much it cost when Sarah was born. He was sure it had only gone up by 2003. If he hadn’t worked his ass off, there was no way he could’ve escaped debt. It helped that his Ma and his then wife’s parents helped with childcare. Would’ve been even more expensive without that.
“Damn. I don’t know how much that is, since…y’know we don’t have money now. But that sounds like a big number. It shouldn’t cost anything just to be born.” 
“Tell me about it,” he said, shaking his head. “But listen. Anything you want fixed, I’ll help out. You can give me something later if you’re worried. I know Ellie’s always on the look for new books to read and you seem to have a lot of them.” 
“Nothing Ellie would like. Not like the special limited edition of Savage Starlight or anything. Just medical textbooks and romance novels.” 
“We could trade for the lemonade from that afternoon,” he insisted, desperate to do something for you. Take care of you as you took care of everyone who walked into the clinic be it papercuts or a fucking knife in their abdomen. 
“Alright. Trade for the lemonade it is then,” you said, giving in to his pressure.
“Now tell me. What d’ya need fixed?” 
⌘⌘⌘
It had been a few days since Joel promised to fix your shower for you. Each time he came by and rang your doorbell, you hid somewhere away from your windows. When he caught sight of you in public, you quickly walked away or engaged in conversation with someone else. You didn’t need shit fixed. Everything in your house was perfectly alright. Tommy and his guys had given the place a complete makeover just a couple months before Joel and Ellie arrived. 
You were no paragon of honesty, but you didn’t make lying a habit. There were a few white lies here and there and this was meant to be one of them. It just didn’t fucking hit you that if you lied to a contractor that your shower was broken, he would eventually come over to fucking fix it. All your desperate sex starved brain wanted that day was for Joel Miller to come use his tools in your room and flex those muscles while at it.
So invested were you in that particular fantasy that as you unwound after a long shift at the clinic, it was with Joel’s beefy arms in mind. You stood in front of your mirror, taking in your reflection. One of the magazines you’d found in a box under your bed laid open on the dressing table. Playboy. Entertainment for Men. Each had a scantily clad woman on the cover. And many more inside. 
You made comparisons to yourself and the woman in the center page of the issue.
She stood in front of a dressing table too, but much different from how you stood. Her legs were on either side of her dressing table chair and her hands on the top of it. Between her arms were breasts, big and round and with smooth skin. They didn’t have any marks on them like yours. No moles, no stretch marks. Just plain. And she just stood there, soft brown hair down, tickling the top of her breasts and her lips parted as she gazed at you. No, at the men she was meant to entertain in this men’s entertainment magazine. All she had on was panties that went high up to her flat belly that connected to high transparent socks.
You reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, wishing that you had something nicer like the woman on the cover of another one of the magazines. Bright red and showing off her breasts wonderfully, but pulled down to reveal almost everything. What was the point of a bra then if it didn’t cover or support anything? Entertainment, you decided. Men seemed to be very entertained by breasts. 
Many a man had stared at yours even though you had them behind layers of fabric unlike the naked women of the magazines. Many had conversations with them instead of your face. Some brushed up against them ‘accidentally’. Joel thought he was being covert, but you felt his brown eyes rove all over them. You thought maybe that he too would brush up against it sometime, but he never did. Maybe entertainment stopped at just looking, as in the magazines. 
You wondered if Joel sought out men’s entertainment magazines like this. He was from before everything went to shit, so it was very possible that he did. Did he like the women in these pages, sticking their asses out and looking through the pages at him? Would he be entertained if he saw you like this? 
You didn’t know that if you turned your head to your bedroom door, you would have your answer. Joel’s cock strained against his already tight jeans as he stood awestruck by your figure. He swallowed as you held on to the top of the chair and lifted your knees, one after the other and placed them on the plush seat. You arched your back, a little too much at first before reducing the curve. Your ass stuck out enticingly and he didn’t know whether to grab, squeeze, slap, or spread your cheeks apart and fuck your ass. 
He should leave. 
It was stupid of him to walk into your house with a box of plumbing tools to fix your shower when you hadn’t yet given him a date or time for it. Plus you were avoiding him. Running away with your little friends and picking up stuff to hide your face from his view. He was plenty sure that when he’d rung your doorbell, you weren’t always away from home. 
He should leave. 
Fixing the shower could wait. He could confront you some other day. 
But you were putting on such a pretty little show in nothing but your panties and he was only a man. A bad one. 
His boots stayed put on your hardwood floors as you enjoyed yourself in front of the mirror. You spread your knees and let your fingers between your thighs, eyes closed, lips parted and low whines escaping your lips in just a few minutes. He palmed his growing erection over his jeans, consequences of being caught be damned. He was a foul beast already. What bad was another sin on the list? Besides, you were the one who’d left the fucking door open. 
Your soft whimpers grew into moans as you brought yourself closer and he forced his feet to stay put despite their urge to walk up to you and give you something to really moan about. 
“Fuu– mmm Joel, pleeease.”
He let out a gasp, all his restraint flying out the window as soon as he heard his name from your lips. You couldn’t actually be doing this… There had to be another Joel in town. Younger, better looking, smarter.
Your voice grew needy and the pitch higher as you kept at it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Gimme it, Sir.” 
No, it couldn’t be anyone else. 
Joel toed his boots off and took quiet steps towards you, emboldened by the filth that spilled from your lips. If this old man was what you wanted, he wouldn’t stop himself from reaping the benefits. He wasn’t a goddamn saint. Never was. 
He stopped in front of you, surprised you still hadn’t sensed his presence. As though the universe heard his thoughts, it had you open your eyes. You gasped as soon as you saw him and buckled off the chair, but Joel caught you. You shuddered, unable to cope with the sudden touch. 
“J-Joel?” 
“Yeah, sweetheart,” he said, touching your cheek with the back of his hand. You whined, your body molding itself against his chest. You brought a hand to his arm, feeling the rock hard muscles underneath his sleeves and your other hand worked between your legs.  
Your fingers no longer felt adequate as you felt his large fingers on your cheek. “Want you, please,” you whined, desperate to return to the edge where you had been right before you saw him. 
“You don’t know what you’re asking of me…” he spoke dangerously, soft brown eyes clouded with a kind of desire you had longed to see in him for weeks. 
“Want you…want you to be with me,” you repeated stupidly, your desperation clouding your senses too much for you to say anything else. While in the past you only wanted to get rid of your virginity, your goals had become more specific with his arrival. You wanted him. You wanted his big hands and broad shoulders, to hold on to them as you rode him. To watch his grumpy expressions turn to ecstasy under you. 
“Tell me not to touch you,” he said, his tone low and almost threatening. Any other threat from him, you would’ve heeded. But not this one. 
“Touch me!” 
It was as though something in him snapped at your words. While darkness only loomed over him before, it now completely took over.The hand that previously only caressed your cheek now wrapped itself around your neck. Before you could completely process the move, his other hand slapped yours away. He replaced two of your puny fingers with his middle finger, eliciting a strained moan from you. 
“Touching yourself to a Playboy magazine, huh?” 
You only nodded, unable to form words now that a fantasy of yours had finally come to life.
“Dirty little thing…Thought you were a nice girl and all. Helpin’ out at the clinic, head buried in books all the time. Turns out you actually got your head in dirty magazines.” 
You whined, your pussy clenching and gushing around his finger at the way he was speaking to you. The same man who insisted on calling you Ma’am despite your protests was calling you a dirty girl now. The veil of respectability seemed to have floated away at the sight of you naked and pleasuring yourself. Had you known that this was all you needed to get Joel Miller to touch you, you would’ve done it much sooner.
He added another finger, the girth of him enough to stretch you more than you had done for yourself. You brought a hand up to his shoulder and fisted his shirt, needing something to anchor yourself to. 
“You ever been taken by a man, sweetheart?” He asked, his tone too cool and casual for what he was doing to you. You shuddered, partly from his phrasing– taken, he said. Taken. Like you were a thing. Like the women in the magazines positioned so uncomfortably just so their breasts could look a certain way for the picture. Printed on the cover page with the words Entertainment for Men written on top. You shook your head, feeling small as you confessed it for the first time. 
“Any man?” 
“N-no,” you managed to breathe out, whimpering at the way the bulge beneath his jeans twitched at your simple answer. He took a step to position himself behind you, letting you lean your back against his chest. The angle at which he touched your pussy changed, opening your world up to a wonderful new kind of pleasure. 
“A virgin. Pretty young things like you ain’t for men like me,” he whispered in your neck, making you shiver. His thumb roamed between your legs as far as they could reach, caressed you gently, his softness with you contradicting his warning about men like him. The hand around your neck slithered down your torso, cold air forcing you to face your new desire of having your breath kept hostage. 
He took your left breast in hand, squeezing the flesh like someone starved would hold on to a piece of bread. It felt more like a punctuation to the warning he issued than a part of sex. Just then, his thumb between your legs stopped its search, stopping a little above the fingers inside you.
A moan you didn’t recognize as yours at first filled the room and you buckled forward. Blunt nails sunk into the flesh of your breast as he saved you before you could fall. He hauled you back up, making you collide against his chest. 
You gasped and quickly grabbed the hand between your legs, the sensation too intense for you to know what to do with. His thumb kept on, rolling over something there that set your person on fire. 
“Fuuuck! Joel– I– I– hnnng–”
“I know, sweetheart,” he crooned, keeping at whatever the hell he was doing to make you feel this way. 
“Please… I don’t– what was that?” 
You felt his chest rumble before you heard his laughter. Heat rose to your face and your throat felt strained though there was no hand around it anymore. 
“Never touched your clit? Do you even know what that is?” He mocked, the cruelty somehow not repelling you from him. He forced you to look up at him. Your heart lurched at how close you were to his face. You could see every gray hair, every minute blemish and line.
“Don’t know your own fucking body but you want a man? You don’t know what you’re handing me on a silver platter. I ain’t like the other guys in town. I walked across the fucking country and lemme tell ya, there’s no pretty things like you out there. I’m starved.” 
“Take me, then,” you begged, using his own words from earlier. “Please. Whatever you– a-aaah!” 
He ramped up the pressure on that spot– your clit– and with it, took your ability to speak coherently. It was as though he’d done it on purpose. You hated it. To be so bereft of control. To be a puppet in someone’s hand. For someone to acquaint themselves with parts of you that you didn’t know of. But it was too much to fight, so you let go. Let him play with you. Take you. Like a thing.
You renounced control of your lips too, his name slipping out effortlessly like it did when he caught you. Then you renounced what was left of your dignity and began begging relentlessly. For what, you didn’t know. In his hand, you’d gone from woman to pupper, your strings pulled by a man, your voice now his. Sounds that would be indiscernible from that of a wounded animal emanated from somewhere deep within you. 
Perhaps none of this was real. Why else did your own voice grow so distant from you? Why did your vision become blurry? Your thighs shook uncontrollably and your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. Your eyes clenched shut, depriving you of your blurred vision. Your toes curled. You wanted to shrink into yourself, shrink away from all this goodness. You went higher and higher, soaring like a bird. Every nerve ending in your body felt electrified, awoken like one switch turned on every light on last winter’s Christmas tree. 
You let out a loud cry, the soaring bird in you reaching its peak before beginning its fall to the ground. You could hear your breaths again, labored but doing everything to stabilize itself. Your thighs still shook. Your chest rose and fell. A hand caressed your hand. Behind you, something strong supported your back. Kept you from falling backward. 
“Joel…” 
“I know, I know…” he whispered into your head. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, surprised to see a softer visage. He picked you up off the chair like you’d seen him lift giant logs before. With ease. You didn’t protest as he carried you. Didn’t protest when he laid you out on your bed. 
He bent down and picked something up. No questions, no instructions. He simply spread your leg away from the other. Cold air touched the gushing mess dripping out of you and you shivered, feeling a sudden need to cover yourself but unable to defy him. His hand was on your pussy again. His hardened, calloused fingers behind a soft fabric this time. He wiped upwards, collecting the mess he made out of you. When he lifted the fabric up, you realized it was your panties. 
He tucked it into the pocket of his jeans and then looked back at your face, the intensity of his gaze making you want to run. Problem was your weak legs wouldn’t take you anywhere. You didn’t screw your eyes shut. You didn’t pull your blanket to conceal yourself. You looked back at him, defiant. Like you were trying to prove something. I can handle a man like you. 
“Be a good girl from now.” 
That and a condescending pat on your pussy and he was gone.
Part 2
2K notes · View notes
screampied · 2 months
Note
hii i just wanted to say that your writing is SO GOOD!! i saw that your requests are open so i’d love to see a hiromi (jjk) x reader fanfic because i haven’t seen nearly enough smut fanfics of him 😔💔 would lowkey love to see soft!dom hiromi or switch!hiromi but it’s your choice 🙏🏻🙏🏻 thanks for reading this, obviously if you’re not comfy with it then feel free to ignore this req!
Tumblr media
❤︎ ໋𓈒 hiromi talking you through your first orgasm
warnings. fem! reader, soft dom! hiromi, cowgirl, praise, overstim, mdni.
an. thank YOUUUU SM !! <3
Tumblr media
“hey, sweetheart don’t be shy,” he murmurs against your neck. you intake a sharp breath with your arms thrown around him. he stares at you with a soft smile, brushing a thumb against your cheek before planting a wet kiss against your mouth. “you’re close, aren’t you?”
“yeah…” you whined, burying your face into the crook of his name. higuruma lowly chuckles against your ear, he’s stuffed deep inside you, and you’re barely moving your hips—you shook, feeling the bundle of nerves all throughout your body commence into a sudden electrifying surge.
albeit, he was very much patient with you.
you melted into his embrace, gradually rocking your hips, and he softly drags your waist further against him. a raspy grunt leaving his mouth before he purrs. “mhm…easy, there we go, good girl. don’t rush. just like that. lean into me, baby. i got you.”
his words warmed its way into your heart and you let off a moan from the utter thickness of his dick stretching out your walls.
despite his girth easily outlining its way inside of your pussy, it felt good. he finds it cute the way you tremble against his touch, your legs trembling above him. “h—hiromi,” you panted, your voice being a bit more whiney — the coldness of his watch material dances against your skin, and it makes you shudder in desperate rapture. “i feel it, ‘s gonna.. ‘m gonna cum.”
“you are,” he whispers, kissing the inner part of your neck. “so be a good girl and give it to me, okay? nice ‘n slow, focus on your breathing for me baby.”
your hips bucked and bucked against higuruma in free will. eyes rolling, nearly drooling. you don’t think you’ve ever experienced a feeling like this. intimate, sure but you’ve always found it hard to please yourself. let alone find it embarrassing to even think of touching yourself.
alas, the moment you asked your lover, higuruma.. he was more than happy to comply. he wanted you to feel good, and that you were.
your mouth tasted a bit salty, and your nails dug into the thick fabric of his lazily half-on tux. higuruma smelt enchanting.
his cologne was just something you could never get enough of. the way he softly ghosts his fingertips against your bare ass.
so soft, it tickled for a brief moment before he brings his fingers towards your waist, outlining your curves — in his eyes, you were nothing more than a perfect girl to him.
“such a pretty body,” he utters, a groan nearly slipping past his lips. your head remained hidden into the side of his neck, gingerly nipping against his skin and he chuckles. “—and an even more playful girl.”
“hiromi, it feels— feels…”
you whimper, languidly leaning into his touch. each time your words got cut off by the sensations of your own cunt, your mind went fuzzy.
you could barely comprehend anything. buried into the hilt, he’s sinking into you with such gentle yet full throttle. “i know, baby. i feel it too. you’re getting me all…sensitive myself.”
his words made you throb, the way he’d pitch his voice and give you a teasing grin — you studied his facial expressions.
his pretty hooked nose that you’d kiss all over, the small dimples stretching near the corners of his lips unintentionally whenever he spoke a sentence. it always went on, higuruma treated you like a doll.
“just let go for me, princess. don’t gotta be shy to get a little filthy around me.” he whispers, kissing near the outer lobe of your ear.
you left off a soft moan against his ear, and the hairs beneath his neck stood up just from your voice. you felt your thigh start to shake just a bit as you steadily rutted your hips against him again and again and again. “oh, what—? you tryin' to give me a kiss, baby?”
he chuckles, watching you tilt your face forward, just missing his lips due to your eyes closed and he smiles. “come here, princess.”
you moaned into his mouth, swathing your arms around him and his lips curve into a warm smile. you tasted sweet…
indescribable yet entirely sugary. higuruma’s tongue grazes against your own before you started to jolt and shake, feeling it. he runs a hand down your back to soothe you before you’re cumming, whining.
higuruma shushes you, parting your legs for a brief moment before uttering once he moves his lips away.
“i know, i know. relax,” and he presses you against his chest to kiss your forehead. “good girl. such a good pretty girl,” and he softly strokes the back of your head — dick still twitching inside of you. you’re murmuring inaudible nothings of straight babbles and he smiles to himself. “that was just one orgasm, i wonder how’d you be if i pull another one out of you, princess.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
rafescokewhore · 4 months
Text
》 you are my sunshine — rafe cameron
Tumblr media
ᡣ𐭩 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: grumpy!rafe x sunshine!reader
ᡣ𐭩 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.1k
ᡣ𐭩 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: allusions to underage drinking (not by reader or rafe), cussing, fighting, punching, blood, jaw breaking, mean!rafe (to everyone but his girl, ofc), angst, fluff. semi-proofread. let me know if i forgot any!
ᡣ𐭩 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: slightly based on this ask! (since i screwed up)
ᡣ𐭩 𝐀/𝐍: again, I AM SO SORRY i realized once i had basically wrote the whole thing, that you said they didn’t start dating until after she helps clean him up :’( i liked your idea way better so feel free to send me another ask based on that! <3
Tumblr media
a majority of obx gathered at the boneyard just a few hours before dusk. ages ranging from sixteen to twenty-three, they all came for two things - to drink and have a good time.
the weather was still warm despite being october, most of the partygoers dressed in shorts, t-shirts, and some in dresses. everyone was conversing with different people, many people all scattered around the massive bonfire. the sound of the waves crashing, the salty air, tourons mingling. this was your favorite part of keggers. two tribes, one island. it didn't matter during this time, everyone gathered no matter their "status." fights often broke out, typically minor and petty anyways.
you had been near the wall of the cliff, talking to sarah when she eventually went off to find topper, leaving you by your lonesome. rafe was off with topper and kelce so once sarah found top, you figured it wouldn't be long before rafe was by your side.
you watching warily as some random guy began approaching you, a drink in his hand and a smile on his face as his eyes kept on yours. you politely smile at him, looking down at the now empty solo cup in your hand. you were hoping he would turn around and walk towards someone else, but nonetheless, he was now standing right beside you.
a young guy, maybe twenty-two? a bit of scruff on his face, his eyes were a nice shade of green. he had a ballcap on backwards, some random band shirt and cargo shorts. all in all, he seemed like a well kept guy.
"hi," he smiles. charming, a little cocky maybe? he must be a touron because everyone on this island knew you belonged to rafe cameron. if anyone dared to mess with his girl, they'd be lunch for the sharks.
"uh, hi," you smiled awkwardly. you were not mentally prepared to deal with this right now, let alone have a conversation with this dude. you looked down, picking at your fingers anxiously, hoping maybe he would take notice and ease off.
"how are you tonight?" he asks, trying to keep conversation.
"i'm good, how are you?" you smile. your mouth began feeling dry, your fingers twiddling with themselves. he seems like a really nice guy but you know exactly why he approached you.
"i'm great. what's a pretty lady like you doing all by yourself?" he cocks his head to the side, smiling sickly sweetly.
"well my friend ran off to find her boyfriend," you point, smiling and looking off to whatever direction sarah headed off to. he smiles, nodding in understanding. you notice he's about to speak again, so you quickly say what you wanted, "but my boyfriend should be here any second," you grin, looking every direction for rafe. leave it up to you feel horrible, though. he seems innocent enough, just trying to make connections, shooting his shot. although you're anxious that he's talking to you, he didn't seem so bad.
"i don't see him," the man shrugs, looking around, scanning the island. you can't help but hug yourself, wanting to get out of this situation but not seem rude about it.
"he will be here any minute," you look away, looking around frantically for sarah to rescue you from this situation. rafe wouldn't let this dude walk away alive if he came to your rescue. sarah was your safe option, your non violence option.
"well he's not very bright to leave a beautiful girl like yourself all alone," he flirts, poking your arm jokingly. you smile, taking a small step back.
"thank you, but he just had to leave for a moment," you assure him, still smiling politely. you stand on your tip toes, attempting to look over the crowd of people for sarah or even rafe. at least if you spotted rafe, you'd have an excuse to leave.
"why don't you let me take you home? you seem awfully uncomfortable," his smile became more and more sinister the more you spoke with him and this was when you realized he wasn't going to let you off the hook very easily.
he reaches out, his fingers grazing your hand and attempting to grasp your shoulder. you instantly pull away, clutching your loose sweater to your abdomen. you stumble back and he simply looks at you confused. you try to play it off with a smile, keeping your distance respectfully.
"hey, what's your problem?" he snarls, stepping closer yet again.
"i- just please leave me alone," you shake your head, attempting to ignore him, still searching for sarah or rafe.
"hey!" he grips your arm roughly. you shriek, looking down at his hand roughly clutching your bicep. your eyes travel back up to his, pleading to let you go. now, you were terrified. now, you weren't sure how to get yourself out of this one. someone had to be noticing the altercation by now, right?
"didn't your daddy ever teach you manners?" he shouts, his grip bone crushing. you recoil, tears falling down your cheeks. you shook your head, choking on your own sobs as you tried to pry his fingers off your arm. his grip was too tight, your skin turning white under his fingers and turning red around his fingers from the grip.
"i- i," you stutter nervously, holding your hands up in defense. just let me go, you pleaded in your head. just let me walk away. stop crushing my arm. it hurts so much. rafe, please help me.
"rafe, no!" you hear topper shout after your boyfriend and before you can even look, rafe comes barreling through a crowd of people, shoving them aside, storming up to the man.
"hey! bitch!" he walks right up to the man, gripping fistfuls of his shirt and shoving him against the cliff wall. the guy lets go of your arm, but you begin stumbling back, nearly falling to the sand as you grip your arm in your hand. you knock into a hard figure whose arms reach out to catch you. you turn your head, looking to see who caught you. topper.
by now. every single person at the boneyard had their eyes on rafe. watching intently as he handled the situation.
"that's my girlfriend, man," rafe shakes his head in disbelief, his tongue poking his cheek, "don't you ever, EVER, fucking touch her, or yell at her again. you got me?!" rafe screams in his face, keeping him pinned to the wall, some rock dust falling on them.
the guy shoves rafe off him, rafe staggering backwards. rafe takes a moment, breathing heavily, eyeing the man. rafe smiles maliciously, running his tongue along his bottom lip. rafe was fucking pissed and this dude was not getting out of here unscathed.
he charged at the man, gripping him harshly and whipping him to the side and shoving him down in the process. your hands fly up to your mouth, gasping loudly as you take in the sight before you. topper still had his hands on you protectively. sarah had finally came running up to the affair, immediately pulling you into her arms.
you watch in horror as rafe straddles the man, fist after fist colliding with his face. all you could hear was grunts and the sounds of rafe's fists connecting with the man's face. blood began appearing on rafes knuckles and came from the man's nose.
at one point the guy got a quick chance, cheap shotting rafe as his fist collides with rafe's cheek. you wince, tears brimming your eyes yet again. you scream out, holding your chest.
"rafe!" you cry out, sarah holding you back, keeping you safely in her arms,
"fuck you!" rafe shouts, bringing his fist up and letting it crash down, connecting with the man's jaw. the sound of his jaws undoubtedly breaking fills the air, the crowd "ooh!"ing.
topper runs up to the two, grabbing rafe and urging him to leave the guy alone. "rafe! let's go!" topper ushers, trying to drag rafe away, but he doesn't want to be done. rafe simply wipes the blood from his nose, attempting to go back down and give the man another reason to go cry to his mommy.
"rafe, c'mon man! enough!" topper grunts, jerking rafe away. rafe shoves topper off him, walking off towards you and sarah, turning his head for a moment to make sure he left that guy to the point he couldn't even stand. a few people had gathered around him, calling 911 and attempting to keep him comfortable.
"fucking prick," rafe shakes his head, immediately walking up to you and pulling you out of sarah's embrace and into his own. his arms wrap around you tightly. you sobbed into his chest, your mind replaying the images of what you just saw.
when things had eventually calmed down with you, i.e your tears were no longer streaming, there was a house right off the boneyard that belonged to one of the partygoers. he gave you permission to take rafe there and clean him up.
you lead rafe through the house, a few other tourons and friends of this partygoers were hanging around in the house, one of which knew who rafe was.
"yo, rafe are you okay?" he asks, completely shocked and likely worried when he saw you bringing rafe through the house with a cut cheek and bloodied nose.
"fuck off," rafe barks, continuing to follow behind you. you lead him up the stairs and to the left where you found the bathroom. you shut the door behind you, locking in and immediately looking for something to help rafe clean up. he notices your frantic state and attempts to relax you.
"baby, it's okay. i'm alright," he reassures. but this was all your fault. he's hurt because of you. if you would've kept your mouth shut and just played a little nicer with the guy, allowing him to flirt, maybe this whole situation could've been avoided.
finally, you found a washcloth under the sink. you stood up, and attempted to lift yourself up onto the counter. it was seamless and you struggled for a moment. rafe smiles cutely, approaching you and placing his hands under your armpits as he helps pick you up and place you onto the counter.
wrapping the cloth around the pad of your finger, you turn your torso and turn on the warm water. you let the water soak the fabric before turning the water off and turning back to rafe.
he looks at you and steps forward, standing in between your legs so you could easily clean him off. you raise your hand up steadily, brushing the cloth across rafe’s gash on his cheekbone. you wince as you try your best to be gentle and not hurt him.
as you continued to clean off his face, you felt tears prick your eyes. you shook your head, trying to rid of them and distract rafe from seeing them.
“hey,” rafe’s voice is quiet and hardly even noticeable. his finger rests up under your chin, encouraging you to look up at him. you hesitate, your vision going blurry for a moment from the pooled up tears. you take a long blink before looking up at rafe and opening your eyes.
“why are you crying?” his voice is gentle, kind, and calming.
“you got hurt because of me,” your voice is strained, lip quivering.
“i would take a hundred punches if it meant you were safe,” he smiles and brings his thumb up to stroke your cheek. you smile softly at him, thankful to have someone like rafe in your life. you didn’t like the violence he inflicted, but he was greatest protector and always would be.
“can i ask you something?” you ask, running your fingers through his mess hair. he nods his head and leans in a bit, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.
"why are you so nice to me, but mean to everyone else?" you ask. rafe pulls away and looks at you, cocking a brow.
"what do you mean?" he questions.
"you would kill anyone who looked at you sideways. but you've always treated me so different. in a good way," you look at him.
"well that's because you’re my princess," he smirks and you can't help but blush, giggling and pushing him away playfully as he tries to leave tickling kisses on your jaw. rafe pulls away after a moment and suddenly looks at you seriously.
"you saw me for who i was under all the anger, rich boy shit. you treated me no differently that anyone else. you gave me shit when i deserved it and you were there for me when i needed it. that's when i knew you were the one," he smiles brightly, so much emotion and love for you beneath that smile.
“i love you,” you giggle, leaning in and pressing your lips to his in a sweet moment.
Tumblr media
🏷️ @jjmaybankisbae @drewstarkeysbae @f4ll-for-you
3K notes · View notes
floswife · 3 months
Text
SORE LOSER - T.N X READER
Tumblr media
Pairing: Theodore Nott x reader
Summary: Theodore and Y/n learn how to better focus their hate for each other
Warnings: SMUT, oral, dubcon..?
Author’s notes: this is my first time writing smut so I honestly apologise for how inevitably bad this will be 💀
Tumblr media
Y/n didn’t know what it was about seeing the anger flash before Theo’s eyes when she’d taunt him, but it honestly was her main motivation when competing against him.
Like now in this quidditch match as she threw the quaffle threw the goal hoops once more, she had to turn to look at Theo for a split second just for the sake of rubbing salt into the wound. She would like to lie and say she was ashamed of her pettiness but what’s the point in that?
She had been out to get him ever since he made her cauldron explode in potions, which prompted Snape to hate her even more than he usually did with Gryffindors. Which was quite a feat, she wasn’t on a Harry Potter level of hatred but on the other hand Snape didn’t have a perpetual hard on for her mother either so that probably helped her too.
In hindsight it was a petty reason to name someone your sworn enemy, but his smug smile when he saw her turn to glare at him was enough to set her eleven year old brain off. Plus she just really liked being a hater for no reason.
After successfully winning the game she went over to Theo who was leaning against the wall, looking like a kicked puppy, she couldn’t lie, seeing him like that really did numbers on her but she wasn’t about to let that get in the way of her favourite thing to do with Theo, gloat.
“How does it feel to lose yet again, Nott?” She called out cheerily, the broad grin he loved hated so much painted across her face.
He groaned in annoyance at the sound of her voice, “leave me alone, l/n, I’m not in the mood.”
He had always been a sore loser, she laughed in amusement “or what? I’m sorry but the last I checked you don’t get to tell me what to do.”
Theo glared at her as she stood in front of him, both of them still in their quidditch uniforms, he towered over her but she did well to push that thought to the back of her mind as she had been doing ever since he annoyingly hit a growth spurt in third year. She remembered how ranted about it to her friends later on, pretending to ignore her friends knowing smirks as she’d feel a rosy blush rise to her cheeks every time she had to crane her neck to meet his cold gaze.
“Why do you always have to be such a brat?” He sneered at the girl.
“Oh I’m the brat? I’m not the one sulking like a child because I lost a match.” Y/n’s continuous retorts just made him snap.
He grabbed her wrist and yanked her to follow after him, practically dragging her, and took her under the quidditch stands.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” She rubbed her wrist in annoyance at his harsh grip.
“I’m gonna teach you how to shut up.” He pushed her down to her knees and she looked up at him in shock, she looked forward and saw the prominent tent in his trousers, “now be a good girl and listen to me for once.” His voice was slightly whiny as he said that, like he was begging her.
Y/n gulped, really beginning to question her morals, but all her internal monologue silenced when he unzipped his trousers and freed his member from its constraints with a throaty groan, wetness pooled between her legs at the sound and just the sight of his pretty cock. Merlin he was big.
He rubbed the tip along her lips, the salty taste of his precum invaded her tastebuds.
“Open your mouth and put that mouth to good use.” He demanded, she did as she was told and tentatively kitten licked the tip, he threw his head back in satisfaction and let out a whimper? She then wrapped her mouth around his tip and sucked.
He moaned her name out even louder, making her moan around his cock at the sound, she took as much of him down her throat as possible, she gagged when he hit the back of her throat but she powered through, bobbing her head up and down and using her hand to pump at the parts of his shaft that couldn’t fit in her mouth.
“Fuck! Just like that. Taking me so well.”
He was groaning loudly, and she suddenly gained awareness that they weren’t exactly in the most private of places, she tried to pull away to tell him to shut up but he just wrapped a hand in her hair and pushed her back down, he began thrusting his hips and fucked her mouth, tears ran down her cheeks and saliva dribbled out the corners of her mouth as he used her as he pleased. The thought of how blatantly he was using her as just an object couldn’t help but arouse her.
“Being such a good girl for me.”
He held her head down on his cock and she struggled to breath, he twitched before releasing down her throat, he pulled out and tapped her cheek, “swallow.”
He tucked himself away and she got up and stuck out her tongue to show him she swallowed.
He now smirked, “it wasn’t that hard to listen now was it?”
Y/n was still in a haze as she tried to compose herself and have the decency to at least pretend to be embarrassed and tried to pull away but he firmly placed his hands on her hips and pulled her right back against him again, “Shut up, Nott.”
He raised his brows teasingly and she couldn’t help but grow frustrated at how he had switched the tables on her so quickly when she was so clearly set up for a win.
“That’s not how someone who just had my cock down my throat should be speaking, now is it?” His voice was mocking, condescending.
She get that familiar heat pool between her thighs once more and she remained speechless, he smirked.
“Such a shame, you were gonna get a reward for being such a good girl.”
She tried to gain her composure as she scoffed, “like I’d want it.” She really did want it
He leaned in, that stupid lazy smirk on his lips again, “so you’re not soaked right now?”
Her eyes widened and he then inched his hand from her hip to under her waistband, as soon as his fingers touched her wetness that had completely soaked through her panties she moaned lightly, her eyes rolling back at the contact she was yearning this whole time.
“Theo!” She gasped.
He pulled his fingers away just as quickly as it came he pulled his finger and he brought it to his lips to suck her juices clean from it and he hummed, “so sweet.. on second thought, let’s continue this tonight, room of requirements?”
“What-“
And just like that he left her there, needy for his touch.
She really did hate him.
But he was so hot.
Looks like she had plans for the night.
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Part two?
1K notes · View notes
f10werfae · 10 months
Text
Bucky’s Bimbo Babe
Tumblr media
pairing: Rich!Bucky Barnes × Maid! Bimbo!Reader
summary: Bucky fucks his cockdrunk maid and makes her his forever, even planting a baby or two in the process, (Mean!Bucky) (Dom!Bucky (Requested by @arxyos )
Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/Disclaimer 18+
Full Masterlist
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“Fuck doll, come up here and give your man a kiss, I know you want to” Bucky swooned looking at his cockdrunk maid on her knees for him, her cheeks puffed out, full of his milky cum; that was all for her. Her uniform ripped down the middle, exposing her breasts and soft stomach, her swollen clit peeking out of its lips. Letting her cum covered tongue mingle with his.
It all started 2 hours ago when Y/n helped her boss into his house, his metallic arm swaying at his side until she mended him back to help. His cock already twitching seeing her in her uniform, a white shirt two sizes too tight and a skirt which was basically a belt, I mean the man had to have eye candy somewhere; where better than his own home, and a woman that has to tend to his every need.
“S-Sir your uh- your thingy is all stiff again? Would you like me to massage it again?” She said pouting at the mere idea of him being in pain again, the last time his parts had gone all stiff, he had asked her (well more told her) to watch porn in front of him so he could get off to seeing her Pussy leak all over his bedsheets. “Would you do that for me doll? You’re so pretty and nice” He cooed running his thumb over her cheek as he watched her lift up her skirt politely, getting onto both knees in front of him.
“Wait two seconds” He groaned leaning forward and ripping her uniform straight down the middle, I guess one of the perks of having a metallic arm. His grin widening at the sight of her tits, nipples hardened and the soft skin of her stomach on his display, fuck just the thought of how soft she was and how good she smelled got him even harder.
“Okay go on pretty” He sighed feeling her hands slowly fist his cock, her cheek nuzzling against the side of it, letting his pre-cum lather all over her cheeks; wanting nothing more than to be covered in all the milk he had to offer. “You like feeling my cock on your face?” Bucky couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at the frown on her face, his babydoll was never a fan of such vulgar language, preferring to keep things “classy”
“It feels nice n’ warm” Within seconds her lips started sucking onto his bulbous reddened tip, before she opened her mouth with her tongue out, giggling happily as Bucky leant forward and let his spit dribble into her waiting mouth; words of praises leaving his mouth watching her swallow gratefully. Reattaching herself to his cock, she let Bucky’s hands caress the back of her head, his fingers rifling through her hair as he continued to spit praises and mocking insults at her. Occasionally spitting onto her face and smearing it because she was his “dirty girl” and thats “how he liked it”
Y/n hummed at the salty taste of her master, her tongue lapping over his hole before circling his head, her hands stroking whatever bit of his length she couldn’t fit into her mouth; her lips peppering kisses all over it cutely just to tease. “Can feel it twitching sir, you’re feeling better!” She smiled happily, sucking even harder this time, her spit and slobber covered face making her face shine in the soft warm glow of the salt lamp.
“Mhm you’re making me feel so much better sweetheart, fuck, your mouth is so warm and tight; bet your pussy feels even better huh doll?” Y/n didn’t even have enough time to reply before her mouth was stuffed to the brim with all of his milky goodness, some even threatening to spill out, her eyes tearing up as she started to swallow it bit by bit; as Bucky leant forward, beginning to clean up her face by licking it madly before he said.
“Fuck doll, come up here and give your man a kiss, I know you want to” Bucky swooned looking at his cockdrunk maid on her knees for him, her cheeks puffed out, full of his milky cum; that was all for her. Her uniform ripped down the middle, exposing her breasts and soft stomach, her swollen clit peeking out of its lips. Letting her cum covered tongue mingle with his.
Her mouth pursed onto his and he tasted himself on her tongue, when finally Y/n took his tongue between her lips and began sucking it as if it was his cock, both their spit landing on each other’s chins as Bucky let his sweet doll take control for once. Her naked pussy lips giving his cock a warm snug hug as she humped on him desperately, her bare tits pressed tight against his chest as she whined and whimpered for more.
“Spit in my mouth baby, just like I did you” He groaned opening his mouth as she shyly leant over and let her tongue dribble into his mouth before he then sucked her tongue in turn, “I think she wants some of my milk too huh? She’s so pretty n’ puffy for me doll”
“Please oh God yes” Y/n breathed out setting herself onto her knees, as Bucky felt his cock enter her hot wet hole, bottoming out inside of her as his heavy balls slapped her pussy with each gentle thrust. The curls nestled at the base of his cock roughly scratching her clit, making her jolt at each sensation. “I’ve got you doll, i’ll take care of you, my sweet girl, would do anythin’ for me wouldn’t you” He cooed smoothing her hair back as she whimpered and bounced herself up and down steadily, her hands palmed onto his chest as he begged for him to kiss her. “Please I need t-to kiss- woah- kiss you while I-I”
“While you what baby?”
“While I fucking cum damn it!” She squealed once his cock hit that one spot inside of her, his fingers reaching behind her to rub at her puckered backdoor, feeling it wink each time her pussy clenched around his length. He’d ruined her purity and ruined her well, that’s what she was made for, him. His cum painted her walls white, just the sheer amount of cum had caused her stomach to feel full, with it already dripping out of her warm honey centre.
Her body rocked back and forth rapidly, riding out her high as Bucky finally gave in and plastered his lips onto hers, pulling away to let the saliva connecting their lips fall onto her full tits. Both of his hands massaging and pushing them together, letting him lick up her cleavage and into her waiting mouth, her tongue outstretched with her eyes practically rolling around her head.
A creamy mix of their juices at the base of his cock where her pussy was still engulfing his length, her walls milking him for all his worth.
“T-too sensitive” She whined as his vibranium thumb started toying and pulling at her rubbed raw clit, her hands clawing at his pecs, her lips drooling onto his shoulder as her mouth gaped open at the amazing burning sensation of overstimulation.
“I know you can give me one more petal, just one more and we can go to bed” Bucky whispered kissing just below her ear, taking in the perfume she was wearing, his other hand rubbing up and down her back soothingly. “Y-your bed? Together?”
“Yes together, and you’re never leaving it, not with the condition you’ll be in” He chuckled watching her mouth form an ‘O’ as he rubbed soft but deep circles onto her swollen nub, his other hand caressing her stomach already imagining her swollen, for him.
——-
PSA: This is my first Bucky fic. EVER. So I hope you guys enjoy it and hopefully i’ll write more for him! Another instalment of the bimbo universe i’ve now created😭
library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection
Bucky Taglist (comment to be added) @marvelloki23 @chrisevansdaughter @angelic-dreams13 @katiemarsblog @sunshinepower17 @namjoons-t1ddies @ameliascreampuffs @mdpplgtz03 @bluemeadows22
3K notes · View notes
jj-one · 5 days
Text
SALTY & SWEET 🥣
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: established relationship, nerdy bf!dom!Jungkook x gf!reader, jk is around 21/22 in this genre/tags: smut, (some) fluff, angst, degradation, praise kink, oral (m receiving), facef*cking, food play, c*m play, c*m eating, use of word daddy (once) words: 981
**old repost from my deleted blog
Tumblr media
Oh you sad, sad little thing… always finding yourself in these compromising situations. The whole morning went as normal with Jungkook, he was super nice to you and smothered you with lots of loving kisses! But once he arrived back home from classes his entire mood shifted completely.
“Get on your knees, wanna use that pretty little mouth of yours right now.” Jungkook was hovering over you as you sat down.
You were just minding your business on the couch eating a bowl of strawberries when he said that to you.
“W-what?” Your eyes bug out of your head like a deer in headlights.
“Did I stutter? On your knees NOW!” His voice becomes more stern.
You squirm to get up, not wanting to waste another minute incase he gets angrier. Your body feels shaky from his intimidating persona, he usually comes off as sweet and caring but when he’s mad he becomes almost sadistic.
It didn’t take long for him to end up down your throat. All 7 inches of him being taken by you. You kept choking and gagging but the more you did it the more Jungkook would just keep pushing your head back down. His fingers latching onto your hair and thrusting his hips harder to get more of his cock deeper in your throat.
“C’mon, you can take it like the little pathetic slut you are. You’re my precious little pup right?”
His words made you so fucking wet for him.
You wanted to please him in the best way you could. Bobbing your head back and forth, his spit combined with your saliva all over your face. Jungkook likes it messy though, he also loves shooting his load out on your face after a long day. You acted like nothing but a toy for him to use, just a fuckdoll he can manipulate and dump all his cum into when he’s frustrated.
His glasses were sliding down to his nose as he keeps lowering his head to get a finer view of you. Your fucked out face was so angelic to him, so divine… you looked the most beautiful when you had Jungkook’s cock buried in your mouth.
“There atta-girl… such a good little slut for me aren’t you?” The way he talks to you will be your true weakness.
You had to prove your love to him. Your devotion. You wanted his cum as a reward so you had to work hard for it and push through the pain. You try humming to loosen up your vocal cords and take him better, the vibrations sent chills up his spine and he almost lost his balance for a second. Feeling the way he throbbed and twitched on your tongue made you moan against his shaft.
“Fuck yeah… good girl my good little fucking princess…”
You kept letting him throatfuck you and the tears came rolling down now. He loved seeing you become a crying fucked out mess for him, it filled his heart with the utmost joy.
“Aww.. my darling’s getting teary eyed, can’t take all of it huh??”
Your jaw hurts so bad but you can’t stop now, you have only one goal to achieve and that was to make your boyfriend cum all over your pretty face. His cock slammed into your uvula and you made a loud gagging noise, he would just grin and keep pushing hisself in you relentlessly. He laughed at your misery, the way your knees buckled and quivered while being under him.
He wouldn’t be laughing for too much longer though, one more thrust to the back of your throat would leave him nearly unable to talk. His body felt paralyzed. Eyes were violently rolling to the back of his head as he feels his release approaching. He jerks his hips back and quickly pulls out of your mouth. He doesn’t bring his cock to your face though, instead his attention is drawn to the bowl of strawberries you were eating from earlier.
He stands in front of it on the couch and viciously strokes his cock, large white ropes of cum come trickling down onto the fresh strawberries. Once he finishes he looks back at you now with an evil grin.
“Get on all fours for me doll.” He instructs you.
You do as you’re told, getting on your hands and knees, crawling your way towards him. He takes ones of the strawberries— that are now all coated with his hot delicious cum and brings it to your lips.
“Open wide.”
You open your mouth and he plops the strawberry in, you immediately close your mouth to start chewing. The strawberry was so sweet and juicy while Jungkook’s cum was warm and salty, this might be the perfect combination you’ve ever tried.
“Taste’s good right princess?”
You nod your head and finally speak “Yes, so yummy daddy, want to eat more!”
“Then go ahead, eat more.”
You dip your face in the bowl of strawberries and eat another one. You can’t get over how good his cum tastes with the savory fruit. He pets the top of your head like you were a kitten, just grinning at the sight of you eagerly eating his cum.
“Such a naughty little girl… you really are a huge slut.” He degrades you more, wrapping his hand around your neck as he lifts you from being on all fours.
You’re back on your knees again facing him while he kept a tight grip on you. The way this man had you so down bad for him, you were willing to let him do absolutely anything to satisfy his needs. Your body couldn’t stop trembling under his touch, he had you perfectly the way he wanted.
“Still look so pretty, even after sucking off my cock..” his hold on you was only getting tighter at this point.
“So obedient for me, always.”
744 notes · View notes
konigsblog · 4 months
Text
i saw this... and god, it's rotting my brain away!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
— link in comments. 。*゚+⭒·。*゚+⭒
Tumblr media
(☆‧₊˚.) with ghost, könig, and mace. all burly, towering men that can easily put you in your place with just a slap — and nice, firm slap that'll intimidate you into obedience.
ghost's hips pump and drive into your swollen, drooling pussy on repeat, holding your legs in the air by the ankles. simon grips you firmly and tightly all while groaning and degrading you with each sound you make! but, god... you're a wet, babbling mess, with tears soaking the blind that covers your eyes, running down your cheeks.
you only identify mace's cock by the taste of his pearly cum. it falls in pearly, milky beads of his bitter, salty semen, sucking him off nice and tightly while simon brutalizes your tight, raw hole mercilessly and pitiless- sparing you no mercy as he spears you on his big cock.
“tha’s a giiirlll... jus’ so soakin’ wet, yeah’? little overwhelmed with all these’ big, fat cocks just pushed into ya’? --mmhmmm’.. m’sure ya' take it all, can’t‘cha? jus’ make us happy, sweet girl.”
simon growls out, looking at you through his skull balaclava. you whimper, puffy bottom lip quivering at the roughness and your chin coated in saliva as you babble and drool sloppily, the throb between your supple thighs making you cry, especially with the way könig rubs your clit painfully.
“mein schatzchen, cryin’ now, are we? now, now... let's not get all emotional, ja? let me rub this cock all over that pretty, nice body of yours--mhmm,-ja-ja...”
you feel könig large hand caress your cheek, giving it a squeeze so your cheeks hollow out and tighten around mace's lengthy shaft. you're not surprised with the way they're helping eachother; especially with ghost and mace being teammates back in the day. the impact of simon's heavy, tight balls makes you shudder, clenching around his veiny and thick shaft while continues pumping his hot ropes of cum into your pretty hole.
“..ain’t‘cha jus’ takin’ this cock so well, pretty thing? suckin’ my dick... fuckin’ greedy whore... tellin’ us 'no more' yet you’re swallowin’ this big cock like it's nothin’...”
mace slaps your face painfully, gripping your hair with a tight grip, slowly forcing your head down his hard shaft ‘til you're covering his cock in your spit. the ticklish feeling of könig's voice beside your ear sends shivers down your spine, making you moan around his cock. you can feel him rocking his large hips against you, humping you and rubbing his wet cock all over you. painful and sore shaft.
you shake and tremble, unable to catch your breath. könig replaces mace's hand, and pushing your head down onto mace's cock so you're taking every inch mace has to offer, all while he leans back and looks at the pretty tear stains on your cheeks, making sure you're gagging around him, while taking a hard, thick cock in your raw, used hole so well.
“dirty mess, hase. look how filthy and sticky you've made us.. covering us in all of your cum? you're a filthy thing, our little toy--don't cry-you'll be taking me next-ja, a, sonnenschein.. you can take every inch--...mhmm...”
he tsks to the sounds of your sobs, grinding his cock until he spurts all up your back, covering your pretty skin in his wet, hot cum.
2K notes · View notes
mypoisonedvine · 1 year
Note
Hi hi! I’m sure you’re being flooded, but I’d love a little something about younger (20 or older though!) reader babysitting for dad! Steve. Smutty if you feel so inclined. Can be single or not, dealer’s choice!
I went wayyyy overboard with this, oops, but it was so sexy omfg
word count: 2k
warnings: huge age gap (45+ vs 20), unprotected sex, breeding kink, oral m receiving, sliiiightly mean dom steve, size kink, stomach bulge kink, daddy kink
Tumblr media
You'd been crushing on Mr. Harrington for years, actually... even before the divorce.
It wasn't just that he was good-looking, although that was obviously part of it. It was the way he acted with you, it made you feel all girly and little and dumb; it was the way he played with his kids which made your uterus sob in envy; it was the way he wore reflective shades to the pool and you had to wonder if he was looking at you and seeing how much you'd grown.
For the longest, much to your dismay, nothing happened between you. You'd been trying to make conversation after he came back each night to finish your babysitting shift, but it never really worked. Nothing worked, actually, not even the skimpy outfits or the strategic bending over or the casual touches to his arm or knee.
Nothing worked until last night.
It started mostly normal, except that he was obviously in a worse mood than usual. You asked how his date went; he dodged the question. You pressed again, and he shook his head as he sat down on the couch, running his hands over his hair.
"It's starting to feel futile," he explained, speaking quietly knowing his kids were asleep down the hall.
"What is?"
"All of it," he breathed. "Dating, work, all of it."
You sat next to him, pulling your knees up on the sofa and tilting your head sympathetically. "Tell me about it," you offered.
Amazingly, he did. He told you about how each woman he went out with was worse than the last, and he didn't trust any of them with his kids. That made your heart skip; I'm his babysitter, he trusts me with his kids.
He told you about how rough the divorce had been, and then the custody arrangements. Apparently he was still dealing with that even though Mrs. Harrington had moved out probably almost two years ago now.
He told you about how hard his job was, how the hours killed him, how he could barely find time to spend with his family because he was putting out everyone else's fires at the office.
"That all sounds really stressful, Mr. Harrington," you cooed when he finished his rant. "You need to relax."
He chuckled a little. "Easier said than done."
"Maybe I can help you."
He raised an eyebrow in confusion, but his eyes went wide as he watched you get on your knees on the ground.
"Let me help you relax, Mr. Harrington," you pleaded, running your hands over his legs gently as they stayed slightly spread on the couch.
"Oh, uh— I— sweetie, we can't—"
You reached up to his belt, and even if his words were hesitant, he lifted his hips slightly to make it easier for you to unbuckle it.
"Are you— fuck— are you really—? Baby..."
It made your hips wiggle against the carpet hearing him talk like that. You got his fly open next, and started to rub his cock through his boxers underneath. His eyes followed your every move in disbelief.
He was just starting to get hard when you took him out, but he was already so big... your mouth was watering. You couldn't wait any longer: you looked up at him for just a second before you leaned forward and took his fat head into your mouth.
Groaning and tilting his head back, his hands found purchase in your hair instantly.
"Fuuuck," he breathed, "you're... you're so bad, sweetie, you know you shouldn't... oh my god."
You bobbed your head eagerly, feeling him swell and harden against your tongue until your mouth was stretched to its limit by his size. You hummed around him joyfully, revelling in the softly salty taste on your tongue. Stroking with your hand what your lips couldn't reach, you took a break after a few minutes to look up at him for approval.
"Where'd a sweet girl like you learn how to do that?" he asked with a long sigh. "Fuck, keep sucking... look up at me, baby."
You did as you were told, and he adjusted his hips slightly so it was easier for you to keep eye contact with him while you suckled at his throbbing head.
"Good," he praised, stroking your cheek as you worked. "Such pretty eyes... and that pretty mouth too, god. Take it deeper, sweetie, you can choke a little."
His hand helped push you down until his dick hit the end of your throat, and you gagged helplessly. He moaned loudest at that, eyes falling shut for a moment.
"Too big for your little mouth, huh?" he noticed. "Poor baby. Choke on me again."
You did as he said and noticed his hips rocking up to push his cock even deeper and gag you even harder. Tears welled in your eyes but he purred in satisfaction.
"Mm, good job," he praised, "you're so good for me, sweetie."
Needing a break for your throat, you pulled back and stroked him slowly as you made conversation. "How long has it been since somebody sucked your cock, Mr. Harrington?" you asked sweetly.
"Fuck, I don't even know— years? Before Allie was born, probably. She didn't... she never did it, really," he mumbled, and you tried not to bite your lip. Of course his bitch ex-wife never did this to him, he was probably so starved for affection for ages.
"That's such a shame," you pouted, "it tastes so good. I'd never be able to stop tasting you, Mr. Harrington."
"Then don't stop," he encouraged, pushing your head down again. You got back into the pattern, only taking breaks to lathe the shaft in long licks from base to tip; he seemed to like those a lot.
Sometimes you felt his cock throb and you hoped it meant he would come soon: you couldn't wait. You went on for a while longer, though, and started to get desperate for it. When his heavy breathing made you pretty sure he was close, you broke the pattern one more time to encourage him. "I want you to come in my mouth," you informed him. "M'gonna swallow it, sir, I promise."
"No, fuck no," he interrupted, surprising you. "No, I want that pussy. Fuck, I need your pussy, get up here."
You climbed onto the couch eagerly, straddling his lap as he started to pull your skirt up right away. He snapped your panties off like it was nothing, instantly groaning at the sight of your mound beneath; you felt so exposed in the best way, you worried you were going to drip right down onto his khakis with him looking at you like that.
"Fuck, sweetie, you're so gorgeous," he sighed, "such a gorgeous little pussy. C'mere..."
He held your thighs, petting them as he guided you down to his cock. He stopped looking at it once he was just barely pushing inside, instead starting to watch your face as you sank down onto his length with a moan. "Fuck!" you whimpered. "Fuck, too big, you're too—"
"Shh, shh," he soothed, "gotta be quiet, baby, the kids are asleep."
Your gut burned from how stupidly hot that was, and you bit your lip to try to keep it down. His cock reached the end of you and you jolted, trying to move back up, but he shook his head and kept guiding you down.
"No, sweetie, you need to take all of me," he scolded gently. "You're gonna take all of me, fuck, so good..."
Finally, somehow, he managed to get it all inside until your thighs were flush with his. You were shaking, it was so deep you were shaking; there was a slight bulge in your tummy where his cock filled you. "Mr. Harrington, it's too deep..."
He growled, actually growled, and held your hips tightly. "No, baby, it's just the right amount. You're taking me so good... all of my cock is in you, sweetie, you're doing so fucking good. Now just ride me."
Shaking and whimpering, you started to rock your hips on top of his; he sighed and watched you, looking wrecked in the best way.
"Yeah, fuck," he encouraged, "fuck, you know how long it's been since I had pussy like this? Tight, wet, young pussy like yours? You feel so fucking good..."
"You too," you moaned, "you feel so good, Mr. Harrington..."
He smirked a bit. "I think we're on a first name basis by now... but I want you to keep calling me that anyways. It's so fucking cute."
Pulling you a little closer, he whispered right by your ear.
"Maybe," he suggested, "you could even call me daddy."
"Oh, daddy," you pounced on the opportunity immediately, and he groaned in satisfaction. "Daddy, it feels really really good..."
"Yeah? Well then why don't you cream for me, huh? Let that cute little pussy come on my cock—"
You didn't even let him finish. You'd been worked up since he got here and it hit you all at once. He watched you proudly, thin laughter ringing in your ears.
"God, you're so sensitive," he groaned, "it's gonna take me a while, baby, I'm not as young as you... takes me all night sometimes."
You shuddered; "I don't have anywhere to be..."
"Yeah you do," he corrected, starting to guide your hips as your motions faltered from the exhaustion of coming. "Your parents are probably worried about you, sweetie. They don't know what a slut you are, do they?"
You shook your head. "N-no, daddy..."
"Fuck," he breathed, "you're so cute... show daddy your tits, sweetie— lift up your shirt for me and show me your tits."
He was more than capable of doing it himself, but he preferred to watch you roll up your tank top and let him see your tits, hardened from being so turned on by all this. You'd stopped wearing a bra around him months ago, and it was all worth it as he reached up and palmed one of your breasts.
"Mm," he hummed, "you've got great tits, baby— you show them off too much, though."
He slid his hand across your chest to touch the other gently. "I only did that for you, Mr. Harrington," you promised, "I just wanted your attention... wanted you to see how grown up I am..."
He smirked. "You got my fucking attention, sweetie."
With renewed energy, you started to take control again, riding him in earnest. "Really?" you confirmed hopefully. "Did you think about me, daddy? Did you ever jerk off and think about my tits?"
He delayed his answer by hissing a little, looking down at where your pussy slid up and down on him before tilting his head back again. "Yes," he admitted, "yeah, I thought about you. I would've done it a lot more if I knew you wanted me to."
"Of course I wanted you to," you giggled, "I have such a big crush on you, Mr. Harrington, I have for so long..."
"A crush, huh?" he laughed.
You nodded eagerly, whining when he held onto you tighter and started to thrust up into you off the couch.
"You know I'm more than twice your age, right?" he reminded you with a purr, and you nodded. "You know I'm older than your dad, right?"
Your head was spinning, but you nodded again.
"And you know I could get you pregnant... right?"
You moaned, head falling back, and he laughed.
"I knew it," he gloated, "I knew that was what you wanted— knew you needed some babies fucked into you, sweet girl. Daddy's gonna knock you up, s'that what you want?"
"Yes, yes!" you sobbed.
You weren't moving at all now, you were limp and useless as he thrust up into you hard and fast, making you cry and moan so loudly he had to cover your mouth. "I'll come, fuck, nice and deep," he promised, "and give you a baby, yeah? Get you so full and pregnant, just how you want it."
You were begging him for it, but it was all muffled into nonsense under his hand as he fucked up into you rough and fast. It ended with a groan, his head falling back and his body going limp under you as he came. You collapsed onto him, both of you sinking into the couch as you caught your breath.
His hands rested on your thighs still, sometimes petting them or moving up to your waist; you shyly hid your face in the crook of his neck, hardly believing that this really happened— and terrified you would wake up and realize it was all a wonderful dream. "Think I'm gonna need you to babysit for me again tomorrow night," he broke the silence suddenly. "I'll pay double for the short notice."
"I'll do it for free," you replied.
13K notes · View notes
undiscovered-horizon · 4 months
Note
Hi! I really enjoy your one piece writings, they have given me so much comfort when I don't feel okay 😭
Can I please get a Mihawk (I'm completely in love w this man aah) imagine where his wife is a sensitive person who gets sad when someone is rude to them but they feel insecure couse they think it's stupid
Thank youuuuuu ❤️🥺
First of all, I'm honoured that I can provide a source of comfort to you. I'm glad my work has made you feel better in your time of need.
Second of all: oh yessss bestie this hits the spot. It also reminds me of a wonderful scene in The Gentlemen (10/10, highly recommend) [it also hits close to home because I am a sensitive person]
Tumblr media
The thing about strong people is that they make others want to be just as strong, which isn't always easy if even possible. You've always known you're a little 'softer' than most people but only after marrying Mihawk did you find the difference in temperament bothersome. Instead of considering your sensitivity a fact of nature, you've begun to find it a flaw, something that you should change about yourself.
You've never admitted it to yourself but the truth is plain and simple - you think it's embarrassing. That Mihawk will find your sensitivity embarrassing. Maybe if you had been up-front about it with your husband, you'd learn that he adores your soft heart. If he felt forthcoming enough, perhaps you'd even hear that you're the source of warmth and light in his life. Hence he calls you his 'sun'.
To say that Mihawk grew concerned when he heard your muffled sobs would be like not saying anything. A delicious euphemism at best. Anger and fear bubble inside his chest. There's a strange itch in his hands that eggs him to wreak havoc.
"Apple of my eye," his voice carries well through the rather empty room you're both staying at currently. "What is the meaning of this?"
Frantically wiping away your tears, you look over your shoulder to meet his gaze. Mihawk is leaning against the doorframe, blocking the entrance if you so wish to run away from this situation.
"Oh, it's nothing. Really, I'm alright. No need to worry," you half-heartedly attempt to reassure him.
The swordsman loudly exhales through his nose. He's your husband, worrying about you is his duty. In slow steps, Mihawk walks over to the edge of the bed where you're sitting. Pride and titles as if forgotten, he drops on one knee in front of you. One of his hands gently squeezes your knee.
Unsure what's the best way to go about these circumstances, you timidly meet his intense gaze. The passion in his yellow eyes makes you think of a maelstrom captured in a jar - something devastating held back by a miracle. He's already seething, just doesn't yet know who exactly to direct his violence at.
"Indulge me," he prompts you to confide in him. There's a rare sense of pleading in his tone.
So indulge him you do - you tell Mihawk all about the unpleasant encounter with a local tearaway. Your husband tries his best to control his expression as you recount the unambiguously offensive words, unwanted touches and threats of real violence coming from someone who was probably looking for a cowardly scapegoat to vent his anger. As you continue your story, tears just keep rolling down your cheeks, fear and humiliation finally finding their way out of your heart.
"I know I'm being stupid," you mumble as you clumsily wipe your face, "he was just rude and it's not like he actually hurt me but-"
Mihawk's touch makes you cut your sentence short. His hand, its skin rough and calloused, gently cups the side of your face. Your hot, salty tears disperse as his thumb slowly rubs them away. Something about the tenderness of his touch, of hands that have killed and maimed, is enough to make you feel like you're about to break in his arms. Even if you do, you know that when dawn breaks you will be whole again, put back together with the unending love Mihawk holds for you.
"You've always been too good, my sun," he tells you in a low voice. He could have said 'too soft' or 'too sensitive' but then his remark would come off as deceitful as it would suggest his dislike towards your nature. Nothing of that sort - Mihawk genuinely thinks you're a better person than most people walking this plane. And he'd rather succumb to torture than let anyone make you feel bad about that.
The man leans in and places his warm lips against your forehead. Without much effort, he lays you down on the bed and you let him. Even if you wanted to fight back, you're way too tired to do so.
He's sitting on the edge of the bed, caressing your face, neck, arms and back as he's waiting for you to fall asleep. The anticipation doesn't require much patience - Mihawk's tender touches lull you to peaceful slumber rather swiftly. When he's sure that you're asleep, he kisses your forehead again before cautiously leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind him.
Perhaps he can't turn back the time and make the offending man choke on his words but he can ensure that the tearway won't hurt you ever again. Someone resting in peace so you can rest peacefully is a good bargain.
Mihawk knows exactly who he's looking for. He made a note of a certain characteristic trait you had mentioned - an earring with a single, red-coloured feather. It doesn't seem like a piece of jewellery that would be common anywhere.
It doesn't take much to find the tearaway. He makes his presence well-known as he stumbles out of a tavern, his legs almost giving away with each step.
So he assaults random women minding their business and then gets blackout drunk. It's pathetic enough to consider his death merciful.
Staying true to his name, the swordsman stalks his prey before lunging. Appearing as another patron of the inn, Mihawk follows the stranger around the corner towards barns, stables and pigstys. Fitting place for the likes of him, Dracule thinks to himself.
The man with the curious earring staggers his way towards a drinking trough. He's fumbling with his pants, desperately trying to pull them down to relieve himself but his fingers are not dextrious enough.
Mihawk picks up the pitchfork leaning against the barn wall. In one, swift motion he gores the tool through the back of the man's knee. A guttural scream tears through the night as he falls to the ground.
The swordsman grabs a fistful of the tearaway's hair. He forces the kneeling man to look up into his seething, yellow eyes.
"Do I owe you money?" The man is slurring his words. He squints his eyes, trying to focus his hazy vision on Mihawk and, possibly, recognize his creditor. "It's money, isn't it? Shit, just give me two days, man. I'll give it back with interest."
"I don't care about money."
Instantaneously, panic appears in the tearaway's eyes. Did he just find himself in the same position he's put hundreds of people in to cure his own boredom and need for grandiosity?
"Then what it is?!" he shouts, fear settling in his viscera. Dracule's calmness put together with the sheer hatred emanating from him makes for a deeply unsettling impression.
"You hurt my wife," comes the answer. The fist clenching the man's hair tightens its hold further, threatening to tear off his scalp. "My wife," Mihawk growls.
But before the tearaway can ask for clarification, his head is forced into the drinking trough. Surprised and scared, oxygen is escaping him fast. Soon, his throat and chest begin to clench and throb painfully. Dark spots dance across his vision, foreboding blindness.
Then, Mihawk pulls his head just above the surface. The man desperately gasps for air.
"If you believe in a god," the swordsman begins in a low voice shaking with anger and adrenaline, "I suggest you start praying. Fast."
The tearaway's head is forced underwater again but this time, Mihawk keeps it there until the ruffian's body stops trembling and shaking. After that, Dracule waits for a while longer - just for good measure.
You're woken up by the creaking of doors as they slowly open. Blinking sleep away from your eyes, you look over your shoulder only to experience a sort of deja vu: Mihawk is standing in the doorway. Before you can ask about his strange behaviour, your husband makes his way to you in long, quick strides. He kneels on the floor beside the bed.
Mihawk takes your hand in his. He takes something out of his pocket and places it in your palm. You recognize the red feather earring immediately. And is that... a piece of skin still attached to it? Gently, your husband closes your fist and lifts your hand to place a chaste kiss on your knuckles.
"The rat has paid for its sins," he whispers to you. Judging by the intense look in his eyes, you don't want to know the details of this story.
2K notes · View notes
jamespotterismydaddy · 2 months
Text
Hiding in the Woods
luke castellan x reader
A/N: this was a request! me if i ever had a chance with luke:
WARNINGS: smut (duh), sex in a place where you could get caught??, overstimulation, going raw kink (is there a name for this)
WORD COUNT: 1,100 words
Tumblr media
“Where are we going?” Luke asks with a chuckle as you drag him through the woods.
“Nowhere specific.” You murmur as you stop, feeling like you’re deep enough into the forest. “I just feel like we just never get a moment alone.” You breathe out, turning and pressing him against a tree.
“Someone’s needy.” He teases, letting his hands fall to your waist as you push yourself against him.
“That’s what happens when I can’t do more with my boyfriend than innocent pecks on the cheek.” You say as your hands run up his chest before you press a very not innocent kiss to his lips. He can taste the hunger on your tongue as you force yourself against him, so desperate for his love and he is happy to oblige.
“Did you really bring me out here because you’re so desperate for my dick?” He teases and the heat rises to your cheeks.
“You don’t need to say it like that.” You say with a pout.
“Don’t pout, baby. I missed you too.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “How about you get down on your knees and show me just how much you missed me?”
You kneel in front of him right away. The idea that he wants you just as much as you want him is confirmed by the bulge in his pants. You could tease him a bit. You know you could but you don’t want to risk being in ill favour with the only person who can relieve the deep ache between your thighs. So, instead you pull down his pants and take his long cock in your mouth. You gag a little at first, your body no longer used to the feeling of something touching the back of your throat.
“Take it slowly, greedy. You’re out of practice.” He chuckles, guiding you with a hand on your head.
You don’t take his advice too seriously, deepthroating him as much as you can without choking.
“Fuck…” He grumbles lowly, his knuckles whitening as his hold on you tightens. He tries his hardest now to cum down your throat right away. He couldn’t stand looking pathetic when he was just teasing you for your depravity.
You bob your head back and forth, relishing the slight salty taste of him on your tongue. You don’t know if it’s because you’ve had to wait for him for so long but you swear you could spend your damn life on your knees for him.
“I’m gonna cum.” He lets out a little whimper that makes you want to smirk before releasing into your mouth. You swirl it around on your tongue for a moment before swallowing. “Gods.” He murmurs at the wanton sight of it. “Let me return the favour.” He says, holding your face in his hands as you rise from your kneeling position. He looks more than eager to take his turn on his knees.
“Luke, if you don’t fuck me now, I will lay down and die.” He grins at the comment before smashing his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss.
It isn’t long before he’s half-hard again and you pull down your pants while he pumps himself a bit. He stops abruptly when you’re just about to pull him close.
“What is it?” You ask.
“I uh… don’t have a condom.” He looks flustered but the fact doesn’t discourage you.
“I’ve been thinking about having you raw for a while. I take preventative measures anyway so there’s no risk of anything.” His eyes blow out with lust when the words fall from your lips. “Don’t you wanna feel all of me?”
His hands are on you in an instant, hiking you up against a tree, your legs wrapping around his body. His fingertips fall down to your hips.
“You’re sure?” A nod from you is all it takes before his finger hooks around your panties and pulls them to the side.
He slips himself in slowly, wanting to fully engulf himself in the feeling of taking you raw for the first time. He swears you’re warmer, tighter, wetter than ever before but that might be just because he feels so close to you. He starts to thrust up into you against the tree, savouring each mewl that you let out.
“You’re so good for me. You feel so good, baby.” He breathes the words against your neck before suckling on it, leaving little marks for himself to admire later.
“You’re so big, Luke. You make me feel so full.” 
The praise, the feeding into his ego makes him thrust deeper into you until he’s pounding you against the tree. You’re really hoping you’re deep enough in the woods for nobody to hear because the sounds that the two of you are making are filthy.
“Tight little pussy just needed to be fucked right, didn’t it?” His hips slam against yours and the sound of your arousal soaking his cock is more than audible.
“Mmm…” You whine out in agreement.
“Don’t know how I managed to stay away so long.” His fingers start to tease your pearl, making you jolt around him a little. “Never again.
“Luke… i’m gonna cum.” You can barely get the words out before you do just that, soaking his cock even more as you convulse around him.
The pulsing of your walls gets him even closer but it’s not quite enough as he keeps thrusting deep inside of you now.
“Lukeeee” You moan from the overstimulation as his cock hits your cervix over and over again.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m so close… so close. I just need a little more from you. Can you hold on a little longer?” He coos in your ear, making his thrusts a little more gentle now.
“‘S too much.” You whine, clutching onto his camp shirt.
“C’mon I know you can give me one more, just one more.” He starts rubbing your pearl and you squeal at the feeling, writhing against him as his hips meet yours.
“Ah… ah” You let out your little whimpers before you squeeze around him again and this time, the tightening of your walls is enough to make him spill himself deep inside of you.
“You were so perfect. Did such a good job, beautiful.” He peppers kisses over your face as he pulls out, his seed oozing out of your pulsing entrance. It might be one of his new favourite sights.
After, he lifts you into his arms to carry you back to camp… your legs far too wobbly for walking after your little session.
taglist (comment to be added): Luke Castellan: @amortencjja @urmomsbananabread @kissingyourgrl @vikimontethegirlblogger @maryann2013 @stark-head @remussbitch @ever8ea @batmandabest @jennapancake @junos-web @tanifsblog @stupidtween 
General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33
1K notes · View notes
foli-vora · 11 months
Text
pretty boy
matt murdock x f!reader
Tumblr media
A/N: This gif should be fucking illegal. There I was, just minding my own business at 12.30am thinking ‘hey I should probably get some sleep’ and then bam—suddenly I was obsessed with needing to suck this man’s dick. So here we are—enjoy.
This is a drabble of 500+ words and I can’t be bothered tagging so yeah.
Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY: oral sex (m), swallowing, the need to have this man weak and whiny at my fingertips… look, this is probably a mess but idgaf
-
He’s so fucking thick.
An ache is quick to build in your jaw, your mouth straining uncomfortably as his cock disappears beyond your lips. He hits the back of your throat and you inhale sharply to push just that little bit further, to take him deeper, to drive him closer to that sweet edge you’d been teasing him with.
You fight the discomfort eagerly, practically hanging onto every little whine and exhale that falls from his lips. He always sounds so fucking pretty, breathless from being lost in his pleasure and full of praise for every inch you take greedily.
He never knows where to put his hands, and you’d laugh if you didn’t have the solid length of him heavy and throbbing against your tongue.
His fingers trace your cheek, glide over where your lips part around the width of him, swipes through the saliva that gathers at the corner and spills down your chin. They curl around the back of your head, and you tremble from the strength you feel lingering behind his touch, the temptation to hold you steady and fuck up harshly into your mouth almost overcoming his patience.
One day you’d break him. One day. 
His hands move again, quickly coming to rest over yours where they’re spread out across the scarred expanse of his hips, holding him in place. He’s quick to intertwine his fingers with yours, seeking a physical tether to the world as he drowns in an endless void of ecstasy. 
A brief tang of salty precum oozes from the tip of his cock and sinks into your taste buds as you pull back enough to take a breath, and your tongue drags over the smooth head firmly before gently rubbing along the lower side where you feel his frenulum, massaging the spot over and over and over—
He jolts, toned stomach jumping at the sensation and you groan weakly around him, eyes fluttering as he bucks into your mouth. He’s close. You hear it in the way his lips form the plea of sweetheart, the way he helplessly cries out for his God and begs for that little push over the edge.
Please, sweetheart. Just a little more, j-just like that—God, please, yes—
He erupts on your tongue with a flood of thick heat and a delightfully filthy moan that has your weeping cunt clenching from the low obscene rumble of it, and you swear you’ll never get enough.
You swallow it all down eagerly, tongue rolling over the length of him until he finally starts to soften in your mouth and his thighs start to shake from overstimulation. You pull away and let him fall from your lips with a low pop before delivering a final kiss to his thigh and standing. You resume dressing, fingers numb from his tight hold and slow as they try to continue buttoning your shirt as the morning light filters through the window. 
He pants into the air of the bedroom, a blissed out, tired smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he swims in his post orgasm waves, “What was that for?”
“You’re just so damn pretty, Matthew.”
4K notes · View notes
anantaru · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
DAY 24 — BRAT TAMING
Tumblr media Tumblr media
kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — kazuha, alhaitham
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, brat taming, they're mean lmao, petnames used: love, smart girl, oral (male! receiving), cockwarming
Tumblr media Tumblr media
𖧡 — KAZUHA
coruscating with a hot prickle underneath your cheeks and your arousal oozing out of you, kazuha wastes no time before he pulls your mouth back into his lower area with your lips open wide to receive his pulsating cock again— more so feel it stick and melt to your tongue so sinfully as you drag the roughness of your wet muscle against the underside of his dick, tickling the buzzing veins.
"i— ah, hardly notice anything," kazuha admits bluntly and chuckles as his fingers comp over the back of your head, "you need to try harder, i fear," what a distinguished way your boyfriend had with words, which, in any other case he does but not now, not when he was attempting to teach you a lesson.
and you reach in between his thighs at his blatant sentence, to properly take his balls in your warm palm— giving him two good squeezes as he instantly swallows back a groan at the harsh treatment you added onto him, being aware that he was exceptionally sensitive right there.
well, granted, this entire ordeal was placed on you for a reason— because sometimes you just cannot help yourself but be a little, mean brat to your handsome boyfriend, until his habitual and subdued personality gets spiked up with a dangerous notion affiliated with lust, desire, and the clear thought of putting you in your place.
"maybe if you, fuck— wouldn't have been so mean, my love," kazuha pauses, roughly curving his palms against your cheeks so he could softly brush his thumbs over the skin, breathing out a whispery moan when he could feel himself shallowly slip in and out of your hot mouth, "i wouldn't have to use such words on you."
you whine in attempt to spell out a witty comeback but are only being crowded with his fat tip grazing over the back of your throat— you hiccup and babble, perceiving him entirely, his slightly bitter taste penetrating your nostrils as your body grew to smell like his luscious fragrance.
kazuha shifts in his seat a little before pushing his hips up your flexed throat to catch you off guard— yet, little does he realize at last, when he fucks your throat and uses your mouth as he pleases, with your saliva and his pre dribbling all over your chin and his boxers, that in reality, you will never stop engaging in this sort of play and be all about the drama, so perfect when you act like a little brat, so kazuha could use your mouth again, no need to urge you on for anything when you're practically salivating at the taste of his salty cum on your tongue.
Tumblr media
𖧡 — ALHAITHAM
"don't flatter yourself too much, i'm not even fully hard yet,"
whenever you were acting out— attempting to push and pull against alhaitham's usual stoic and unbothered demeanor, you are most likely defeated right away, yet do not be mistaken because, the moment you do achieve to, quote on quote, step onto the wrong tile, he almost needs to profess the power he held over you.
you take a sharp intake of air before exhaling it out with a tremble the moment he first sinks into you— although much to your surprise, he wouldn't move, he wouldn't even kiss you, only focusing on your sizzling hole swallowing him in like a wet suction pulling on his shaft.
"hey!" you whine, before slipping your hands around his neck so you could kiss him yourself, only to be met with alhaitham quickly turning his head so you'd clumsily hit his ear instead, "w-what's up with you?"
it's in a juncture like this where everything suddenly comes crashing down on your complete frame and holds you hostage against your will, the split second you can remember it in a spur of a moment, vividly, when you were oh so graciously disturbing his peace earlier, just because you felt like it.
"i'm not moving tonight," he proclaims, a little aloof and standoffish but holding your gaze with unapproachable eyes before he repeatedly slaps the plush flesh of your ass, making you squeak out.
"you do it yourself," alhaitham wasn't really interested in a heart-wrecking apology from you, truthfully, he had already planned out and structured how this night would end, obviously in his favor because you cannot beat him— he stops when you're begging him, full of brimming tears, to make you please please cum because you just cannot hold it in anymore!
"i can't," you attempt to move your hips but are being met with one large hand pinning you back down the mattress.
alhaitham was torturing you, that's what it was, at least in your eyes, and you dig into his scalp and ruffle his hair, aiming to make him kiss you again (and failing) before scraping your nails around his ears, where he was a little sensitive, yet not even that worked out so you ultimately go down to his neck— your lips curved up into a sweet and apologetic pout, hoping he'd show mercy tonight.
"okay, i'm sorry, i went to far, i'm sorry sorry sorry.." you mewl out in a frantic exhale, the heaviness of his throbbing erection melting within your walls was maddening, and it hurt, a mild pain battering your pulsing cunt as your pussy flutters greedily around his girth, wishing to chance his mind.
alhaitham noticed how you were glistening all over his dick, he feels how your cunt squeezes him experimentally too, but it's more than just wanting you to please him tonight and make it about him, which in actuality, the scribe didn't give a single damn about his pleasure— but it's about obedience, just how it's found in dogs following their owner, and instead of using words, he uses his thick cock stretching you out until you're whining and loosing all of your witty responses, both of you fusing and becoming one.
but that agonizingly sizzling tension in between your squished bodies, ugh, it was surrounding you, your soul and mind, it was beginning to simply steal your breath away.
"but you're such a smart girl, right? always having a comeback to everything, so try harder."
Tumblr media
©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
1K notes · View notes