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hearts4chriss · 16 days

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Teachers pet.

CollegeProfessor!Matt x CollegeStudent! black fem!

Prompt: in which you have a crush on ur teacher, yet he has a thing for you no matter how wrong it was, and he notices your little movements in class to get his attention, one day it pushes him over the edge and he teaches you a lesson for it, not with a bad grade

“I know I’m young but, my mind is well beyond my years”. - teachers pet by Melanie Martinez

Contains: teasing, loads of suggestive touching, neck sucking, spanking, desk sex!, backshots, m!oral receiving, degrading, dumification, f!oral receiving, mentions of Matt having a huge cock, overstimulation, pet names, HELLA dirty talk, choking, hair pulling, kissing, mentions of reader w fat ass, fantazing like this. HEAVYYY AFTERCARE

a/n: this one’s dirty as hell😭😭

Fuck.

I was in class sitting next to one of my friends trying my very hardest to focus on this lecture of business and finance 2, my teacher Matthew Sturniolo.

He made basically impossible, the all black pants with his sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone. And fuck those tattoos.

The way Matt’s rings would sit on his fingers, I’d desire for them to be on me and inside me.

He was undeniably attractive, and he knows that he is, he’s well aware of the affect he has on me, the same smirk he’d give me as he glanced around the class making sure we payed attention, whenever I was working and he’d whisper “you need any help, sweetheart?” His hot breath on my ear making my thighs close together.

Today was one of those days, I wanted to mess with him as I was well aware of what I could potentially make the 25 year old man feel.

I was in my dorm room with my roommate Anna @worldlxvlys as we were getting ready to head out to class.

I buttoned up my short sleeve white shirt with the red and navy plaid skirt just barely covering my ass as the thin pink material hugged my curves.

I slipped on my thigh length white socks with these stupid dress shoes putting my boho braids in a high ponytail.

I applied my lip gloss and soon enough I was ready to go just waiting for Anna.

“Girl let’s goooo”. I chuckled ushering her to the door and she rolled her eyes following suit.

“Let me guess you have Professor Sturniolo first period”. She nudged me playfully and I nodded

“Duh! That’s why I’m rushing you, so I can see that man”. I bite my finger mimicking a blowjob motion with my hands and she gasped slapping my shoulder as we walked up to the main hall.

Ur actually insane for that. She shook her head at me and I disagreed.

Soon after our chatters I made my way into my class.

The second she walked in I couldn’t help but let my eyes drift to her thighs, the way the thin white stockings cover her brown skin makes my pants tighten.

when she gave me that small smile, her lipgloss coating over her plump lips made me die to feel what they’d feel like on my cock.

When she turned to go to her desk, she bent down grabbing binder. Her skirt rose up making my cheeks turn a cherry shade as the thin pink material hugged the curves of her ass. I tried my hardest not to stare because she’s my student.

Of course she’s 8 minutes early.

I leaned back in my chair tilting my head back letting my mind wander.

oh fuck- you feel so good baby. I moaned as I thrusted deep inside her cunt, her legs shook against my desk as her nails clawed the front begging to cum for a 3rd time.

Please please- mm- let me cum I’ll be such a good girl I promise- she babbles as I lay a harsh smack on her ass and she jolts back against me.

should’ve thought about that before teasing me with that slutty skirt- I gripped her shoulder tightly thrusting harsher and quicker as he jaw dropped only producing whimpers and squeaks

I was stroking myself under the desk as low grunts flowed out my mouth just imagining this scenario.

She’s always do this shit on purpose. She never wore skirts this short unless I was teaching her that day.

Did she think I was clueless?

I’d been waiting for the right moment to bend her over and fuck the shit out of her, teach her her a lesson

The way she’d bite her lip at me as I was trying to teach, it all made sense she wanted to drive me crazy.

I threw my head back against my chair, completely forgetting she was in my class.

“Mr.Sturniolo are you- oh-“ my eyes widen when I turn around meeting him seeing his hand below the desk his cheeks turning a pink shade”

“Fuck just- shit I’m sorry sweetheart I can’t help myself around you-“ he mumbled groaning as his gaze met mine,- a wetness forming between my thighs.

“do you need my help?” I ask, realizing what I said I quickly turned my back and Matt let out a small laugh.

“I do actually, be a good girl for me and suck my cock yeah?” He smirks initiating for me to come over with 2 fingers and my throat tightens as I made my way to his desk.

I approach the side as he slides his chair out being met with his hand around his dick. Which was big.

hell the thickness of it was enough to make me squeeze my thighs together as well as the red tip along with the length. How was that supposed to fit in my mouth?

“What are you waiting for? Been dying to feel those lips on me all fucking semester”. Matt admits biting his bottom lip as I crawl on my hands and knees positing myself in front grabbing the base as he groans tilting his head back

I have his tip a few kitten licks making his hand gravitate towards my hair, the cool rings on my scalp before I started bobbing my head up and down.

“ah shit- feels so fucking good-“. He moaned watching me look so submissive below him, the sight of him alone in all black moaning my name turned me on so much more than It should’ve, and sucking him off was like a dream come true.

“Mmm fuck- ur such a good girl, helping ur professor out yeah?”. Matt shuddered pulling my braids slightly tighter and I nod as best I could before quickly resuming my actions, I had to make him cum in under 8 minutes.

“atta girl, keep going- gonna cum just watching you like this- sucking my cock like a little slut-“. His eyes flutter shut as I lick stripes up his dick, the veins on my tongue felt euphoric as well as hearing him sound like this just from me

“atta girl”, another thing he’d always call me, I wasn’t slow? No way he didn’t have maybe..have a thing for me. His student.

there was absolutely no doubt that I was a teachers pet. There was no other teacher I’d do this for, I’m not even failing his class I have an A-.

I felt him twitch in my throat, occasionally thrusting his hips tugging my hair.

“can i- fuck- fill ur pretty mouth up sweetheart?”. Matt pleads, almost as if the way he’s asking he wants to cum in my throat.

I tapped his thigh signaling he could and with that he came down my throat as I swallowed licking the excess from his dick.

“Was that okay Mr-“ I start off, slightly nervous because all I wanted was to make him feel good resulting in him laughing slightly.

“More than okay, you can call me Matt when I’m not teaching”. He gives me that signature sly smile that drives me up a wall helping me up as he fixed his pants and I began walking back to my seat.

As I watched her walk back, realizing how unbelievably sexy she looked in the skirt, a question filled my mind, biting lip watching her walk away.

“are you gonna behave today?” I said putting my belt back on, smirking slightly to see if she knew what I was talking about.

“What? I always behave”. I sit at my desk tilting my head to the side acting like a clueless puppy and he walks up placing his ringed hands on my desk staring down at me.

“If you consider wearing a skirt that short purposely bending over in front of me and giving me fuck me eyes, is behaving, I think your wrong honey”. He chuckles and my eyes widen as I bite my tongue. That’s was everything I was doing.

“So, if you don’t behave in class today, I might have to teach you a lesson sweetheart, you wouldn’t want that would you?”. His eyes pouring in my soul were captivating, almost immediately when those words left his lips I crossed my legs.

He tapped my shoulder going back to his desk and everyone started filing in the class and I let out a deep breath.

Nia @nicksmainbitch sat next to me and Scoots closer to me.

“Girl what’s tea, what happened?” She sat next to me and I side eyed Matt then opening my mouth showing her my throat and she gasped.

“NO F-“ she yelled before I shushed her seeing how he looked in my direction giving me a small wink making my stomach flutter.

“Ooo y’all nasty, I knew he liked you! Since the first fucking day, he’s been eyefucking you”. Nia whispered the last bit to me and tilted my head.

“Wait wait, how do you know? Tell me!”. I poke her teasingly and she laughs.

“Okay sooo….

August 31st Los Angeles California,

University of Southern California

somehow me and Nia applied for the same school and both got in and majored together in business so here we were roommates and in the same class.

I was pretty focused on my studies, hell I even got offered to Harvard and other ivy leagues guy USC seemed about right for me.

I walked into class immediately meeting eyes with my professor. Matthew Sturniolo.

the following week

I walked in class sitting next to y/n, the one thing I saw this past week was how he looked at her, the way he’d always make sure she was okay, the way he’d constantly pass her desk giving her a smile. No way he didn’t like her….

FASTFORWARD SECOND SEMESTER PRESENT

“Anddd yeah that’s basically what I noticed just within the first week”. She started before Matt let out an obnoxious cough.

“Do I need to separate you two?”. He said leaning on his desk speaking in his normal voice.

I bit my lip making eye contact with him watching his eyes widen.

“No Mr.Sturniolo I’ll stop talking”. I say slowly and nia taps my thigh and I let out a soft giggle looking up seeing Matt’s jaw clench I quickly remembered my punishment Id receive, but was that gonna stop me? Fuck no.

The majority of class consisted of me teasing him, purposely fixing my button down so my tits we’re practically falling out, dropping my pencil so I’d have to bend down, my ass poking out in front of him.

All of this justtt to push him over the edge.

If only I knew what I was in for.

Just as I was about to leave the class being I was the last one he pulled my arm closing the door and locking it.

“Where do you think you’re going?”. Matt tilts his head backing me against the wall the heat between my legs growing.

“You think I couldn’t see what you were doing sweetheart?”. His finger on my chin my eyes meeting his feeling my panties dampen.

“You have no idea what I’m about to do to you…” he smirks gripping my thighs wrapping them around his waist slamming me on his desk making me gasp when his lips come in contact with my neck.

“Matt..”. I sigh deeply tilting my head back as he continues sucking harshly on the soft skin closing my thighs.

Matt let’s put a chuckle as he marked me up, his stubble burning into my skin, the desire in my body growing the more he touched me. Wondering what he would do to me.

“Take this off for me”. He tugs on my shirt and I nodded un doing the buttons, watching how his breath would hitch, revealing my pink lacy bra matching with the panties I had on.

“God- you look so sexy in this”. Matt mumbles his hands groping my tits making me let out a soft moan as he pulled away and I whined before he slapped my thigh and I gasped watching him go down on his knees.

My heart beat picked up as he slid my skirt off and panties revealing my bare pussy directly in his face.

“Ur so fucking wet, did i do this to you sweetheart?” He smirks running two fingers through my folds making me whimper and my lips part slightly.

“I suggest you open that pretty mouth and answer me, because I have all day to fuck the attitude outta you”. He speaks somehow still dominate as he’s on his knees and my stomach flips at his filthy words.

“Yes- you did- it was you” I squirm impatiently and he chuckles.

“that’s more like it”. Matt said lowly before looking me in the eyes licking a stripe up my wetness making me moan out softly squeezing my eyes shut

“such a pretty pussy, can’t wait to see the mess you make”. His hot breath on my core sends vibrations through me as his lips attach make an obnoxious suction noise making me squeal and tug on his hair.

“O-oh god-“ my breathing picks up as I begin to moan without a pause as Matt’s tongue flicks at an inhumane pace, his nose grazing my bud and his stubble against my thighs.

His hands grip my thighs pulling me more onto his face and I shriek gripping Matt’s hair tighter only fueling his ego and desire to go quicker

I was in such a euphoric state, hearing his mouth mix with my wetness, I had lost it when he shook his head in my pussy, he was good

“fuck- oh my god-“. I shudder my chest heaving as I watch him feeling my eyes blur at the pace of Matt’s tongue, not wasting a second or a drop of my arousal as he became pussydrunk off of me.

“Mmm you taste so good..”. Matt’s warm breath against my dripping cunt leaving small kisses making me squeal from the pleasure, not removing his head from between my thighs once.

The sound of her moaning my name above me as I held onto her thighs keeping her upright. She tasted so good almost as if I was meant to do this to her. The way she would squirm in my grasp every time my nose brushed against her clit which was often because I couldn’t get enough of her. Her pussy was perfect and every wrong thought of the student-teacher was completely gone.

I’ve been waiting for this moment for months. My own fucking student whose thighs I was now buried in between.

“shit Matt-“. My eyes flutter shut letting him take over my body my hips occasionally shooting up before Matt pulls them back down holding me in place.

“yes- oh shittt im s-so close”. I moan loudly pulling on his hair tightly feeling my the pit in my stomach become hotter.

“yeah? I want all on my tongue baby, give it to me”. He speaks quickly before resuming thrusting his tongue in and out of me.

“Fuck! I’m c-cumming”. I squeal feeling my body loose control as I squirted all on his tongue and around his mouth as it dripped down his chin.

He laps up every last drop making sure not to waste any.

“Tired already?” He chuckles standing up beginning to unbuckle his belt again and that grabs my attention.

“Wait-what are you doing?” I gasp watching his pants drop followed by his boxers, his hard cock with that similar red tip from earlier, spring out hitting his stomach.

“Oh sweetheart you didn’t think I would keep you back and not fuck you?”. Matt smirks bending me over the desk, his hand holding my head sideways as I shriek and the sudden contact of the cool glass of his desk.

I feel his cool rings come in contact harshly with my ass leaving a stinging feeling along the soft skin.

“Just couldn’t behave today could you, hm?”. He taunts repeating the same action making me jolt, pushing against his cock.

“No? Looks like I’ll have to fuck some sense into you yeah?” Matt smacks my ass again slightly harder me squeal.

“Probably like this don’t you, getting treated like a whore by ur professor. Doesn’t it turn you on?” He grabs my neck making my throat tighten and i whimper at his words.

“That’s not a response sweetheart”. Matt shook his head chuckling whilst keeping that firm grip on my neck.

“I-f-fuck it turns me on-“. I choke out and he releases his grip to run his tip in between my folds, the sticky sound from my previous orgasm and his pre cum mixing caused him to groan out of pleasure.

“Fuck, can’t wait to fuck ur pussy loose”. Matt mumbles before sliding into me halfway and my legs already feel weak, the stretch of him was indescribable.

“I’m only halfway pretty girl, you gotta take all of me I know you can”. He presses a soft kiss to my back before pushing all the way bottoming out.

“matt-fuck p-please-“. I stutter on my words as he’s practically balls deep inside me.

“Please what? Use ur words baby”. He massages my hip.

“Fuck me”. I turn back to look at him, my bottom lip tucked between my teeth was more than enough for him to start moving, not letting me adjust to his large size.

Matt didn’t start off slow, he went right to hard rough thrusts causing his hips to connect with my ass roughly making all sorts of noises come out, hardly any words were formable.

“God you feel so good..been waiting for this”. Matt lets out a deep moan as his hands hold my hips forcing me to take all of him, his tip brushing my g spot making my legs shake and I scream each time.

“Mmph f-fuck..”. I cry out, babbling as he fucks me senseless becoming drunk on his cock.

“Can’t even get a word out? God ur such a slut”. His hands dig into my ass making me squeal gripping the edge of the desk.

Matt’s pace was like he didn’t plan on stopping, he wanted me to feel every thick inch of him, and that this was something I’d never forget.

“Can’t wait to see you full of my cum, gonna fill you up so good”. He grunts gripping my shoulder to snap his hips quicker and my jaw hangs open the only thing coming from are squeals, heavy breaths and moans of his name.

“shit shit- feels s-so good”. I squeak out just above a whisper, the way he was fucking me there was no way I’d be able to walk the next day.

Matt’s deep grunts and moans made my pussy clench around him, fuck I could probably cum in the next minute.

“Fuckk- I love this pussy so fuckin much-“. Matt shudders at the feeling of my walls closing in on his large cock, the pace and pleasure were enough to make me feel like this.

“Please please”. I babble out like a helpless puppy and he chuckles slowing his thrusts and I whine.

“Fuck-no please Matt I-i need to cum”. I whine impatiently and he slaps my ass and I jolt back again feeling the head of his dick abuse my g spot

“you sure? Didn’t seem that way in class”. He chuckles his pace more slow and deep still knocking the wind out of my lunges.

“No! I’m sorry i-I’ll be a good girl I promise just please let cum”. I beg and he rubs my side gently.

I let out a deep sigh to myself, I mean how awful would I be if I didn’t let my favourite student have an orgasm.

“Mm much better”. He mumbles resuming his pace and my head falls forward my stomach tightening again as I feel that knot begin to burst.

“Oh fuck! Yes yes I-I’m cumming-“. I squirm feeling a hot liquid trickle down his cock but yet, he doesn’t stop pounding inside me and I reach back to push his hand away but he grabs both of them placing them behind me.

“M-Matt too much I-I’m sensitive!”. I cry out and he shakes his head with a cocky grin slapping my ass harder than normal.

“Should’ve thought about that before misbehaving huh sweetheart”. Matt mocked me thrusts harshly as my cum coated his cock making a mess on his lower stomach and my ass.

Matt continued his harsh movements as I felt his dick twitch inside me.

“fuck I’m gonna cum inside you yeah? Fill you up with my mmph babies”. He groans not letting up on his pace as I already feel an orgasm approaching me again.

Tears roll down my face from overstimulation as I’m about to cum for a 3rd time today.

“O-oh god Matt-please cum inside me-“. I babble on my words feeling a bit of drool on the corner of my mouth begging him to fill me up with his cum.

“atta girl, cum for me sweetheart, I know you got one more in you”. He pants reaching down to rub my clit, feeling his fingers graze my overstimulated bud and I squeal at the pressure of his fingers.

“f-fuck!”. I scream curling my toes as I felt like I was going to pee but i began squirting all over his cock and lower stomach, Matt thrusted slowly before filling me full of his warm thick liquid.

Matt rested his head on my shoulder stuffing me full of his cum and catching our breath.

He slowly slid out of me. I winced at the loss of him, being he was quite large.

“Fuck-you look so hot like this”. Matt bit his lower lip, his voice raspy and tired as he looked at my abused hole, full of his and my cum leaking out dropping on the floor.

Matt noticed I hadn’t said a word, and my legs shook slightly from the pleasure and whimpers and pants left my mouth as I look like a rag doll, sheen layer of sweat covered my body.

“hey, baby you okay?”. Matt rubbed my shoulder waging for an answer.

“Yeah just- really tired”. I pant and he grabs my waist sitting me on his lap.

“I know, I wore ur ass out didn’t I”. He lets out a breathy chuckle and I slap his chest rolling my eyes.

1 month later

Ever since me and my teacher Matthew sturniolo had sex, we never stopped.

Literally never stopped.

“come on hurry up I have 10 minutes!” He pulls me into his office quickly beginning to unbuckle his belt

and the time after that…

“fuck fuck fuck!”. I threw my head back as he gripped my ass tightly rocking me on his cock as I rode him in his chair

“God you feel so fucking good on top of me sweetheart..”. Matt mumbles into my neck slapping my ass, his cool rings felt electric on my body

Shit I even started sleeping at his house on the weekends.

“morning gorgeous”. Matt yawns pulling me into his grasp again and I giggle pulling him into a kiss.

I was sleeping with, My professor, Mr. Sturniolo,

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#matt sturniolo #hearts4chrissmoots #hearts4chriss #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut

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stevesbipanic · 4 months

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Eddie was scared.

The room was bright and the walls a pale blue, the AC was running combatting the summer heat. He was sat in the corner having been left in this room a few minutes ago.

"Hello! Do you want to colour with me?"

The young boy who'd been sitting at the short table by the couch had seemed to notice his presence. Eddie glared at him, he wanted to be left alone.

"Why are you angry? Do you not know how to colour?"

That was a stupid question, of course Eddie knew how to colour. Sometimes Mrs Martin across the street would watch him and she always had crayons for her grandkids.

"I know how to colour," he replied sternly not moving from his spot.

The other boy brightened at this however, "Then come colour with me! I'm not very good at staying between the lines but I'm getting better! Miss Sarah always has colours in here."

Miss Sarah had been the one to bring Eddie here, she'd told him to wait while she made a phone call. Begrudgingly, Eddie stood up and plopped down next to the boy.

"Do you come here often? You said you colour a lot?" Eddie asked picking up the big red crayon for his picture of a truck, it kinda looked like his dad's truck but that was blue. Eddie didn't want it to look like his dad's truck.

The other boy nodded, his mood seemed to dim at the question, "Yeah, I missed too many days of school this time so they called Miss Sarah. But it's not my fault the bus doesn't go by my house and it's too far to walk!"

"Doesn't your mom drive you?" This boy seemed like the kind to have a mom, his clothes didn't have any holes in them like Eddie's.

"When she's home, she's usually away with my dad though, but I'm glad when he's gone, he yells a lot."

Eddie nodded at the admission, his dad yelled a lot too.

"They took my dad away, and I don't have a mom anymore," Eddie said, his eyes began to itch.

The other boy put down his crayon and moved around the table wrapping his arms around Eddie, "It's ok, Miss Sarah will help you, I promise."

"Why hasn't she helped you?" Eddie asked, if Miss Sarah was so good why was this boy always here?

Before the boy could answer, Miss Sarah returned, "Eddie, sweetheart, your uncle is here, you'll be staying with him from now on ok?" Eddie hadn't seen his uncle in years but he could remember that his truck was a bright red colour.

"Really? Uncle Wayne is here!"

"Yep, he's already got your backpack so you can see him now."

Eddie got up quickly, he stopped at the doorway as Miss Sarah continued, "Steve, I'm sorry honey but your dad's lawyer got involved again, he's here to pick you up." Steve, at least Eddie knew his name now, nodded sadly like he'd expected this answer.

"That's ok Miss Sarah, you tried," she knelt down to him giving him a big hug, "Next time you call the number I gave you right away ok?"

"I'll try Miss Sarah, the phone isn't always on."

Miss Sarah led the boys out of the room to the waiting room. Eddie's uncle stood up immediately opening his arms which Eddie ran to.

"I'm sorry son, if I'd have known I'd have come got you years ago. Your daddy ain't hurting you no more." Eddie squeezed him tighter. As he and his uncle passed by Steve he gave him a smile and a wave.

"Do you have any idea how embarrassing this was Steven? We'll be having a long discussion about this when we get home." Steve looked like he needed that smile.

Years later, when they were grown Eddie would find a carefully folded piece of paper amongst the other knick knacks the kids had given Steve over the years. He unfolded it to find a bright red truck.

"You kept it?"

"Had to give myself hope she'd help me like she helped you, plus your dimples were adorable."

It may have taken awhile, but eventually both boys found themselves a happy home.

#tw child neglect #tw child abuse #tw social work #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #pre steddie #theyre kids #ficlet

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forever-rogue · 3 months

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I have a pretty personal request ❤️ (and I completely understand if you don't feel comfortable writing it.)

But I have been struggling with self-esteem and acceptance of myself since gaining some weight. I know I'm beautiful, but that stupid, nagging voice in the back of my head can be a bitch.

I came up with an idea about reader who's in an established relationship with Joel Miller. They've settled into Jackson, and with the changes that come with that stability, she's noticed the changes in her own body and has to deal with it. I can just imagine how soft and fluffy Joel would be once he's made aware of what she's dealing with.

Or maybe I just really need a Joel of my own to cuddle and tell me I'm beautiful 🥺🥰

Thank you!!

AN | Here you go, I hope you enjoy! Also, a friendly reminder that you're lovely just the way you are 🥰

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Weight Discussion

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was the first time you'd looked at yourself in a mirror in a long time. Like properly looked at yourself. You'd been in Jackson for a few months now and were experiencing a stability that you hadn't known in so long. It still felt odd some days, waking up next to Joel in a warm, soft bed without having to worry about anything. But it was slowly becoming your normal life and while it was an adjustment, you were beginning to love it.

Happiness and peace looked good on Joel and Ellie. And you. But, and this was what had been nagging you, lingering in the back of your mind, you'd noticed some physical changes as well as everything else. You'd felt them before you'd fully looked at them - at yourself.

The bathroom boasted a large mirror but you usually didn't spend a while lot of time looking at yourself. You hadn't for years, so why start now?

Well, the simple answer was that now the changes were undeniable.

With a heavy sigh, you closed the bathroom door and glanced at yourself. Your face was a little fuller than you'd remembered, the darkness around your eyes lessened. Your skin looked good and your hair was styled and shiny. These were the changes you liked to see. You noticed the same, more or less, on Joel and Ellie too.

It was the rest you were worried about. You shucked off your sweater and pajamas pants and slowly allowed yourself to look over your body. You didn’t fixate on your body too much; for a long time survival and getting through your day to day was all that was on your mind. But now it felt like you had all the time in the world.

As you looked yourself over, you could see that there had been some physical changes. You looked softer, your tummy and hips fuller than you’d remembered since you were young, your thighs bigger as well. You sighed to yourself and turned on the showers before you could think too much about it. It wasn’t a big deal, you reminded yourself, it wasn’t a big deal.

You heard a knock on the door before it was slowly pushed open and Joel poked his head, “hey sweetheart, got room for one more?”

You panicked for a moment, trying to figure out how you could manage to get out of this one, “umm, I’m almost done actually. I’ll be out in a second and then its all yours.”

“Alright,” he lingered for a moment; you knew that he knew that something was up. Joel wasn’t stupid and he was very perceptive, “sounds good. Everything alright?”

“Of course,” you almost choked on the lie, “everything’s fine.”

Joel made a small sound before gently closing the door. You tried to swallow back your tears but soon enough they were running down your cheeks and mixing in with the stream from the shower.

It was just another change and it would be okay. You’d get there eventually…you hoped.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey baby,” Joel found you as you were in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner, a small smile on his face. He’d noticed that you’d been acting a little off but didn’t want to push it, he knew that you’d go to him when you were ready to.

“Hi Joel,” you looked up and offered him a smile you hoped mirrored his own, “what’s up?”

“Nothing,” he insisted softly as he came over to you, “just wanted to see my girl.”

You tutted at him softly as he came to stand behind you, wrapping an arm around your middle as he leaned his chin on your shoulder. You froze for a moment, sure that he was going to make some sort of comment about how soft or squishy your body was but he said nothing, instead pressing some kisses to your shoulder. You stopped what you were doing, closing your eyes and leaning into him, “Joel.”

“I love you, you know,” he whispered before you slowly turned around in his arms so you could face him. He reached up and put his hand on your face, slowly brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“I know,” you promised, leaning into his touch and turning your face so you could press a kiss to his palm, “I love you too.”

He watched you for a moment before leaning in to kiss you. You decided not to think too much about, not to worry about anything, and instead leaned into him and kissed him right back. It had been a bit since the two of you had a bit of time alone, and you hadn’t helped anything but pulling away from him whenever it was just the two of you. But you’d missed this and missed him, his touch, his everything.

You relaxed into his touch, letting him kiss you dizzy. Eventually his hands wandered down to your hips and that caused you to freeze up. You put your hands on his forearms and pulled away from him, breaking the kiss. Joel, good man that he was, stopped immediately and let go of you. You shook your head, more at yourself than anything else and blinked back your tears, “sorry, I just…it’s me.”

“It’s alright,” he whispered softly, “you don’t have to apologize. If you want to talk about whatever’s been going on, I’m here. You know that, I ain’t going anywhere. I love you.”

You inhaled deeply before slowly letting it all out and nodded, “thank you.”

“Do you want a hand finishing dinner?”

“Yes,” you appreciated the kind and gentle man that he was, “I’d like that a lot.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You walked into the bedroom, finding Joel already in bed and reading. You closed the door and leaned against, looking him over for a moment. He paused after a moment and looked up at you before marking his page and setting it to the side, “penny for your thoughts?”

You nodded slowly before making your way to the bed, sitting cross-legged on top of the covers next to him. There were a few moments of silence as you sat there and picked at a few loose strands on the hem of your sweater. Joel reached out and gave your knee a gentle squeeze. You reached for his hand and weaved your fingers through his, “I don’t want you to hate me.”

“Baby,” a small huff of laughter escaped him but his voice was low and gentle, “I don’t know what you could have done or do that would ever make me hate you. That’s impossible.”

“It’s just…I don’t know,” you shrugged, reassured a little bit that he wouldn’t hate you anyway, “I really like it here in Jackson. I’ve liked it since we’ve been here. But I think I’ve gotten too comfortable.”

“Too comfortable?” he repeated slowly, “ain’t that a good thing?”

“It’s….my body,” you admitted reluctantly, “I look different…I’ve gained weight. I don’t look like I used.”

“Okay,” he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. You were a bit taken aback by his nonchalant response, “I guess I don’t understand why it’s a big deal. But I want to understand.”

“I…because I look different and I was worried that you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

“That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard,” he tugged on your hand in a small attempt to pull you closer, “there’s nothing you could do to make me love you any less. That includes your body changing - happens to everyone. I’ve grown a little softer around the middle since we’ve been there but I haven’t heard you complaining. We’ve all grown comfortable here, but that’s a good thing, it means we’re safe and home and we’re living. Not just alive, but living.”

“I…hadn’t thought about it that way,” you whispered, “I hadn’t really noticed anything different about you.

“See? It didn’t matter to you, why would it matter to me? And even if it wasn’t any of those things, it wouldn’t matter to me. I love you,” you were perched on his lap now, looking at him with soft eyes. His hands settled on your hips and he gave them a gentle squeeze, “besides, ain’t nothing wrong with a little thicker, baby.”

“Joel,” you were laughing now, but a few tears managed to run down your cheeks; but these ones weren’t of sadness. He wiped them away tenderly, “thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he insisted, “I’m just telling you how it is. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me and only had sex in the total darkness?” admittedly it sounded silly when he said it like that. Your face warmed up as you bit your lip and shyly nodded. That look on its own was enough to make him practically melt, “oh baby.”

“It didn’t seem stupid at the time!” you burrowed your face in your hands to try and hide but he pulled your hands away from your face, “don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not, it’s affectionate,” he grinned, “you also don’t think I noticed anything. I might be dumb at times, but I ain’t stupid.”

“But you didn’t…say anything,” you cocked your head to the side as he raised an eyebrow.

“Again…why would I have?”

“You’re the best,” you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in to hug him, clinging onto him like a koala, “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, “no matter what either of us look like. You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“No you’re just trying to flatter me,” you snorted in amusement as you pulled back to look at him, “don’t look at me like that with those big brown eyes, Miller. That’s cheating!”

“It’s not flattery, it’s the truth,” he said, “and I’ll look at you any which way I want. Okay?”

“Okay,” you teased, “whatever you say.”

“That’s right,” he nodded in agreement, “now take off this sweater and leave the light on…only if you want to though.”

“Now that I can do,” you grinned, “gladly.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #tlou #pedro pascal

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mypoisonedvine · 11 months

Note

Congrats on 30k! So well deserved. I’m the anon who asked about the make out with Eddie (thank you so much, loved it!).

Now I’m kinda curious…. would you possibly please tell us more about Eddie putting “just the tip” in? Think my brain short circuited when I read that.

oh yeah a lot of people were very curious about that... allow me to expand just a bit...

warnings: needy eddie being manipulative, heavy dubcon/coercion, unwanted/unexpected creampie, religious/virgin reader

"Come on, baby, please?" he whined, tightening his grip on your hips.

"Eddie," you whimpered, "stop— hard enough to say no to you already."

"Good," he smiled, "just... stop saying no. I know you want it, too."

He wasn't wrong, of course, but you'd told yourself you wouldn't give it up for Eddie Munson. Actually, you told yourself you wouldn't even go out with him at all, but you did— and then you did again, and now he was technically your boyfriend but nobody else could know that. It wouldn't be a good look for you if Hawkins' good little church girl was caught in Eddie's trailer.

If only they could see you now: under him on his filthy old mattress, your panties pulled to the side, his cock rubbing against your thigh. Every time you saw him, you swore you wouldn't let it go any further— then you'd walk through that trailer door and he'd convince you. First it was just kissing, and you slapped his hand away when it groped one of your boobs; but then it was under the shirt stuff but absolutely nothing below the belt. Until suddenly he had you rubbing your hand on the bulge in his jeans, because it's fine if you don't actually touch it, right? Then he convinced you to let him rub his fingers over the outside of your panties, and that had you so desperate you almost considered dry humping him until you came— but you absolutely positively could not come with him, it was just wrong, it was against everything you'd been taught.

"Eddie, I can't," you swore, "I'm saving myself for marriage. I shouldn't have even done all that stuff with you from before!"

"Yeah, but I mean, fuck, look how pretty you are," he cooed.

"Y-you're just saying that," you whispered, "because you want my... chastity."

He purred through his teeth. "You know when you call it stupid things like that, it just gets me goin' even more, princess."

You whined and writhed your hips around for a moment, your pussy desperate for attention it had never known. "It's not stupid, Ed, it's my religion— it's God's law!"

"I know, I know," he sighed, "we don't have to do it. We won't. I'll just rub it on your pussy."

"No, Eddie!"

He groaned, running his hands up your shivering thighs. "C'mon, baby, feel how hard I am for you? You're so fucking sexy. It's a waste, honestly, a body like this not getting loved up."

"W-well, I think it would be a waste to give you my virginity when you're not my husband."

"It's not your virginity! It's just the outside, I won't go in."

"It's close enough!"

"Okay, fine, I'll marry you," he shrugged.

"Eddie! It doesn't work like that, I'm too young," you rolled your eyes.

He leaned down, hovering over you, looking at your face carefully. "Princess..." he whispered.

You bit your lip, your resolve beginning to crumble again.

"Please, honey, just let me feel how warm you are, that's it. And then I can wait as long as you need, I just need something to tide me over 'til then."

You swallowed thickly, wondering if what he really meant was I need something to keep me interested. "...just the outside, right?" you confirmed, and he beamed.

"Yeah! I won't go in," he promised. "Just wanna feel you soak me, that's all."

He held his dick at the base, guiding it to press right against your slick folds; you both sighed, your hips jumping at the feeling. He was so thick, his shaft spread your lips wide apart, and it made your stomach turn.

"Damn, baby," he groaned, watching his cock slide over your cunt. "You're so warm... fuck..."

You were such a sucker for how desperate he looked, his lips falling slack as he moaned for you, his hands holding tight onto your hips. "Eddie," you whimpered.

"I know baby, m'right here," he breathed, "god, I gotta feel inside you, princess. Just the tip, please baby—"

"Eddie!" you nearly sobbed, frustrated that he kept testing your integrity over and over. The first 'no' was so easy, natural even, but the hundredth was like pulling teeth. "We can't, Eddie, you can't—"

"It's just gonna be the tip, princess, I swear, just need to feel you on me," he whimpered. "I fucking need you— you're so perfect, princess, I need you so bad I can't take it."

Your breaths got faster and heavier as his cock slid over your clit just right. "Just... just the tip, okay?" you conceded. "But that's it. Nothing else, ever."

"I know, baby, I know," he promised, pushing down on his cock with his thumb as he guided it to your pulsing hole. "M'gonna just feel you, that's all..."

He pressed hard against you, pushing into your tight entrance, until finally the pressure was enough to break your body's resistance and the head slid in all at once; you whined in pain, and he moaned louder than you'd ever heard as he let his head fall back.

"Fuck, baby," he panted, "maybe you were right about this waiting thing— feels so much better with all the anticipation. Shit, been thinking about this since I first saw you— how this little pussy would feel. It feels so fucking perfect, baby..."

You whined, struggling to imagine how this was just the tip when it felt like you were being stretched so wide...

"I need a little more, princess, please," he sighed. "Just one more inch, that's not even half of it— I swear I can't help myself, you're irresistible."

"O-okay," you choked out, and the second you agreed to it, he filled you even more; it made your back arch, and with how wet you'd become it didn't hurt like you had been warned it would someday. (You still couldn't quite accept that 'someday' was today.)

"Oh fuck, fuck, baby," he whimpered, "you're so fucking good. My perfect girl. Fuck, I'm just gonna move a little... just one thrust. Just one, fuck..."

He pulled his hips back and slowly rocked them back forward, letting himself go just a bit deeper until you whined loudly. "Eddie, s-stop, no more, okay? Let's just stay like this..."

"Shit," he grunted, thrusting again. "I swear I can't fucking stop now, you feel too good. I'm already close, 'cause you're such a tease and all... I'm already so fucking close, baby, just let me come, okay?"

"Fuck, Eddie," you sighed, holding on tighter to the sheets under you. "Y-you can't, that's— that's not—"

"Princess," he breathed as he started to thrust more earnestly into you, each one a bit faster and going a little deeper than the last. "I swear I'm about to come. Just— just a little more, I'm gonna fucking come."

"But you're gonna pull out first," you assumed.

"Y-yeah," he said, "sure, of course."

For saying basically 'yes' three times, it wasn't so convincing. "Eddie, you have to pull out."

"I know," he nodded.

"You can come on me, you just have to—"

"Ohhhh fuck, fuck!" he moaned, and all at once he shoved himself to the brim inside you; you gasped just from the pain of his cock hitting so deep inside you, you hadn't even noticed yet that he was coming. "Oh my god, princess, you're fucking perfect..."

"Eddie, did you come?" you realized when he stopped moving, keeping himself to the hilt in you.

He didn't answer, just shut his eyes and started to catch his breath.

"Eddie!" you yelped, shoving him away and trying desperately to get him out of you. "Fuck, Eddie, I could get pregnant! What the fuck!"

"Sorry, princess," he sighed, though he kept a tight hold on your hips so you couldn't get out from under him. "You just feel too good. I couldn't help it."

"Oh my god, Eddie, oh my god!" you started to sob, terrified of the potential consequences.

"It's okay, baby," he promised, "it's gonna be fine. Because now that you've done it already, we can do it more, right?"

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #dark!eddie munson x reader #30k sleepover #request

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

Note

AITA for visiting a restaurant after it changed ownership?

I (young adult, genders irrelevant for everyone in this story) have been living in the same neighborhood for most of my life, and I usually cook my own dinner. However, because my dad left the family when I was young, and my mom made me move out as soon as I was an adult, I wasn't completely prepared to live on my own, so I don't have a consistent source of income. I've had to move between apartments in the same neighborhood a lot, and sometimes when I'm in the process of moving it's really hard to cook my own dinner. The neighborhood is pretty isolated, so there aren't really many other places to get food, so I've mostly been hungry during those moving periods.

However, a few months ago, my friend R told me L, one of our neighbors I hadn't talked to before, was starting a restaurant business. She'd apparently started out by making food for her two children, S and O, who I'd seen around the neighborhood a few times and was vaguely familiar with, but realized her food was good and opened it up to the rest of the neighborhood for a low price. Of course, I was super excited to get to try someone else's cooking for the first time since I'd moved out, so R and I started visiting L's restaurant every now and then when I was moving or otherwise unable to cook. It's her secondary job, so she wasn't always there, but S and O also worked there and were friendly to us.

I thought it was a good arrangement... until I visited one day recently to find the door closed at a time when it's usually open. I would have just gone home, but it had been really rainy lately, I was under a lot of stress, and I didn't feel up to getting food for myself in those conditions, so I stood around for a few minutes, waiting to see if S or O would come out and explain. Instead, some people I've never seen before came into the lobby of the restaurant and just stared at me from inside. Instead of explaining anything to me or letting me in, they just laughed at me and took pictures of me? I was already really upset and that just made it unbearable to be around other people, so I left. I went back a few days later to double check if it was open, because I was still hungry, but the new people were still there, and I left even more quickly this time. I'm not proud of that- maybe I could have talked to the new people if I'd stayed longer instead of embarrassing myself, but I also feel like they were being really rude.

I asked R about it later to see if they'd talked to S or O lately or knew anything about what I assumed was change in ownership, but R didn't help at all. They told me that they hadn't seen S or O, but I shouldn't have expected the restaurant to stay open forever and that it was stupid of me to go back on the second day. I guess I can see how I might have been an asshole to go back, but I don't know what R meant about the restaurant. Is it because it's not L's main job? Were we the only customers and not giving her enough income to continue it for anyone but her kids? Or was the restaurant like... a front for money laundering or something? I really don't know. I'm hurt, hungry, and so confused. Was I in the wrong for bothering the new humans? Am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #joke aita

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confiscatedpeaches · 8 months

Text

William Afton Finds the Reader's Dirty Diary, and it's full of fantasies about him.

Minors DNI, Reader is assumed to be 18+. I tried to keep the reader gender neutral, but honestly I assumed them to be afab.

TW: Use of word "daddy" in a sexual context, breeding, smut, power imbalance, humiliation.

Life can be stressful sometimes. We all need some kind of escape, whether it be videogames, tv, or even knitting. Your escape just so happens to be a filthy little diary you keep in your bag at all times. And lately, that little guy has been full of dirty, nasty, no good fantasies about your latest crush (and boss) William Afton.

Honestly, you've always had a thing for older men. Once you stepped into his office for an interview you were hooked. You couldn't help but stare as his hands fiddled and played with his pens while he talked. You made a joke about the rainy weather you were having, and he actually laughed. God, what a laugh this man had. Infectious and giggly for someone his age. When he spoke you about melted on the spot. His accent wrapping itself around your name like a comfy sweater or delicate lingerie, taunting you with it's flourishes.

Poor thing, you were so nervous and flushed. You actually looked shocked when he offered you the job. Mouth hanging open (an invitation, really), eyes wide; you looked like a frightened little prey animal. A rabbit, even.

It started out small, just little urges and thoughts hastily written down. What it'd be like to kiss him, hold his hands, touch his hair, etc. Eventually these thoughts became much more... intimate.

--------

Monday: God, every time I step into his office for a chat I imagine him bending me over that desk of his and breeding me. I want to feel his cock balls deep inside of me. I want him to hold me down and break my back. Like, fuck me already Daddy please! Ugghhh! --------

Tuesday: Fuck, he's so hot. I heard him swear in frustration under his breath while fixing foxy. The thought of milking him dry with my tongue is intoxicating. I touched myself in the bathroom while thinking of him. Damn it, I'm so wet now. I want to swallow his cum so bad. He's so. fucking. hot. --------

Wednesday: Mr. Afton, if only you knew how bad I want you. Touching myself to you late at night, cumming while crying out your name. I want you to devour me. Let me be your little slut. I'd be so good for you Daddy if only you'd let me. Please like me back. I want him. I want him so bad.

--------

On and on, filling pages upon pages full of smut. Mentally letting him cuddle, kiss, fuck, and squeeze you endlessly. Of course, you knew he would never feel the same way about you. You were just a young little wage worker. You were nothing more than a typical employee. He was polite and kind to you, but never overly so. Sometimes it seemed like he was flirting, but honestly you chalked that up to you projecting your feelings onto him.

Earlier this morning for example, he called you into his office. He assured you that you weren't in any trouble, he just wanted to check up on you. You seemed a little of out it lately and he wanted to make sure you were okay. He even poured you a cup of coffee. He was such a nice older man, acting almost like a caring father figure. (So what, you have daddy issues, don't we all.) You wished he could be more than that, but you accepted this would have to do for now.

Before letting you return to work, he placed his hand on your shoulder and looked down into your eyes.

"I really like you, y/n. You're a good, loyal worker, and I deeply respect that."

You beamed up at him with a stupid smile on your face. Mr. Afton? Liking and respecting you? Dear god, you must have died and gone to heaven. The heat from his hand sunk down into your core. You imagined his fingers digging deep into your skin, holding you down. You imagined his tongue caressing your neck, lips sucking hungrily at your flesh, his chest pressed against you. Hot blood rushed to your cheeks engulfing your face. He hummed slightly at this before lifting his hand. The spot on your shoulder feeling empty and void at his absence.

"I should really be getting back to work." You stammer, before quickly grabbing your things and fleeing the suddenly humid and intimate office.

-----

About twenty minutes pass before you regain composure. The morning crowd passes by and things begin to slow into their regular routine. Still wet and horny from the crumb of attention he fed you, you rummaged through your bag for your diary, desperate to write down your latest fantasy. Strangely, it's not in it's usual pocket. It's not in the bigger pocket either. In fact, it doesn't appear to be in your bag at all.

No. No, no, no. There is no way you lost that diary. The filthy, disgusting, and embarrassing diary has managed to escape the confines of your bag and is now roaming about the pizzeria.

Panicked, you check the floor behind the counter. Nothing. You check the backrooms. Also, nothing. The kitchen: nothing. The bathrooms: nothing. After systematically checking every room in the entire god damn building you realize you left one room unchecked: Mr. Afton's office.

This cannot be happening.

Even if it is in his office, you made sure to put in bold letters "PROPERTY OF Y/N. PLEASE DO NOT READ" on the front. Everything is going to be okay, it's probably just sitting on his desk waiting for you to come looking for it.

With your heart in your throat, you knock on his office door.

"Who is it?" He asks from inside.

"Y/N." You respond.

"Oh, come in then."

Ah good, so he hasn't read it yet. You open the door.

Sitting with his feet up and crossed on his desk, with one hand rubbing at his croch, he sat. With his other hand, he held up your dirty little diary; holding it wide open. His face was obscured by the book, but he appeared to be deep into it's pages.

"Nice little diary you have here doll."

He tilts his head, revealing a wide and wicked grin.

"Aren't you curious about the real thing?"

You freeze. Unsure if you should respond, or run away and never come back. The room suddenly becomes hot and oppressive. Your chest tightens.

"Mr. Afton! It's not what you think! Please, give it back!"

He laughs.

"I think it is exactly what I think it is love. Got the hots for your boss, have you?"

"I... please... Please don't be angry."

"Oh I'm the opposite of angry love. Be a dear and shut the door behind you. We need to have a little 'chat'."

Swallowing hard, you click the door shut behind you. You find yourself alone with your boss and your filthy diary. He beckons you over. You obey without hesitation, mentally preparing yourself for the worst firing you'll ever experience. He pulls his legs from his desk before standing up from his chair. He completely towers over you. You realize you've never been this close to him before.

"Explain yourself. How exactly, is this not what I think it is?" He teases.

You look away, unable to meet his gaze. Looking down at the floor, you speak in a voice not much louder than a whisper.

"I... I... it's not... it's fiction... I didn't mean anything by it. I... don't mean what is written in there... it's not-"

"Well, it says here" He lifts up the journal and flips back a couple pages.

With absolute glee, he continues: "Ah yes, 'He is so attractive. Mr. Afton, please rail me and pound my tight little hole until I beg to cum. Fill me up and make me yours. Please Daddy, I need this. Let me be your little whore.'"

Shame fills your veins. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. He actually read it. Every thought, every fantasy you've ever had about him was written in that diary. Now he knew them all.

"...please... let me go..."

He leans in close, his hot breath and lips grazing against your ear.

"No, I think it's too late for that dear."

One of his hands trails up your side and around your waist. The other teases your collar and travels down to your stomach.

"You know... I would love to fulfil each and every one of those filthy little fantasies." He says as his hand tugs the button free from your jeans.

"You just have to let me... you will let me, won't you?"

He kisses at your neck.

"Yes... please.." You coo into his ear.

In a flash, he lifts you up and sets you on his desk. His hand guiding you to lay back on the dark oak wood. Papers, pens, and trinkets fall to the floor. You look up at him and watch as he strips off your bottoms. He carelessly tosses them aside, his hands returning to part your legs. He looks down at your wet sex and bites his bottom lip. His eyes are full of desire, he looks like a starving man who has just found his next meal. A meal that has been perfectly dressed and prepared for him and him alone.

He pulls down his pants to reveal his fully erect cock. The tip red and glistening with precum. His veiny hands wrap around his shaft. He teases your opening with his tip, before giving it a good few pumps.

"Already so wet for me, but not wet enough."

His masculine hand reaches down as he slides in a finger. Curling up inside of you, he begins pumping your sweet spot. You moan and writhe under him. Just when you though it couldn't get anymore intense, he slips in another finger. He greedily tugs and pulls inside of you. Realizing how loud you're becoming, you cover your mouth. His free hand pulls your arm away.

"No, no no bunny. Let me hear you. Say my name"

"Will.. William Afton.. mmmphhhh..."

"Good bunny. Keep crying for me, begging for me."

Your body begins to shake. Your moans becoming louder and harder to understand as a mounting pressure builds within you.

"Williammm... Aft..ahhh..."

Hot sticky fluids gush out of you, covering his hand and dripping down your thighs. His hand pulls away, only to be replaced by the head of his cock. Slowly, he pushes himself into you. A guttural sound escapes him. He fills you up all the way until you feel his sack pressing against your hips hard.

Rhythmically, he thrusts into you. Soon his office is full of the wet sound of him slapping against you. His hands grab and dig into the fleshy sides of your hips. Leaning over you, he finds an angle to reach even further inside. His lips find yours, tongue welcoming itself into your mouth.

He moves faster and faster, like an animal desperate to reproduce. Desperate to breed you. You gasp for air.

"Mmm... cum inside of me please.... Daddy... ah..." You beg.

"Mgh... oh... don't worry angel.. I will..."

Your insides twist and coil, becoming hotter and tighter with each thrust. You arch your back, cumming on his cock. Unable to contain himself any longer, he shoots thick ropes deep into your guts.

You both lay there, panting and exhausted. Wrapped up in each other's embrace.

"Bloody hell... if only you knew how long I wanted this... bet you're glad I found that journal eh?" He laughs.

This was so much better than those fantasies. Much better.

#william afton x reader #william afton smut

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m00nsbaby · 9 months

Text

Clumsy.

Marc Spector + Steven Grant x F! Reader. (Ft Jake Lockley) Next part to Sleepwalking. (Or "Already over" part 3.)

Final part. Clumsy II.

Tags & warnings. Sensitive themes, mentions of emotional distress, mentions of mental health, angst but not as bad as the other parts lol.

Word count. 3.2k

Summary.

I flew too close to the sun, Fell back to earth like a stone. I got too high on myself, Too young and stupid to tell. I was bound to make a mess of things, Mixin' fireworks and gasoline, Never meant to make you fall with me.

Your definitive breakup with Steven marked a point of no return for all three involved in the situation.

Marc had to force himself to learn to live without crossing a word with Steven, and his solitary life suddenly felt emptier than it had ever been. All of a sudden, it felt as if there was a void in his chest that nothing could fill, not alcohol, not Layla's occasional company, nor missions that put his life at risk.

Marc's biggest fear came true when he realized he had lost his routine completely. His life had taken that 360-degree turn he never wished for.

"Steven?"

"Mhm?" He didn't even raise his gaze from his book to look at him in the mirror's reflection in front of him; he simply turned the page slowly.

"Did you tidy-up?"

"No."

The only thing that broke the silence for a few seconds was Steven's page turn, while the other observed the apartment that seemed slightly tidier.

The topic wasn't discussed further. In fact, nothing else was talked about, and Marc silently observed, as he had for the past month, wondering if he was going crazy, if Steven was lying to him for the sake of it, or if his chronic depression was clouding half of what he did during the day.

That day, he didn't claim the couch; as it started to get dark, he chose to 'disappear' rather than spend another night listening to Steven's sobs as he clung to the scarf you had forgotten in his apartment, the one that no longer smelled like you.

If broken hearts had a scent, it would probably be what was impregnated in the yarn of it, Steven's tears mixed with his own cologne.

And a hint of whiskey, from the nights when Marc would steal the garment while asking himself over and over again, 'What have I done?'

The next day, to the surprise of neither of them, more things seemed to have changed during the night. Steven had woken up wrapped in his bed's covers, not on top of them, wearing his favorite pajamas, and your scarf neatly folded on the nearby piece of furniture.

More organized books took their place on the bookshelf where they belonged before Steven had started piling them up on the floor.

"Steven?"

"No." His head remained on the pillow, his eyes still closed. He was tired of answering Marc's questions, which, in his eyes, never made sense.

Who cared if a book was here or there? He didn't even remember what he had eaten for breakfast the day before, if he even had breakfast at all. With even less reason, he would remember if he got up in the middle of the night to rearrange things in the apartment.

Steven didn't take long to fall asleep again. The only slightly bearable aspect of this situation was that, for the first time in their lives, both Steven and Marc were starting to sleep more, enough hours at night and a few extra in the afternoons. It turns out life becomes more tolerable when you're not aware of what's happening around you.

Even counting the vivid dreams, the constant dissociation that was nothing new for them, and the lost time that could be used for anything other than sleeping.

You were... better, all things considered, as it had been exactly 26 days since your breakup with the person you would forever consider the love of your life.

Of course, you still cried at night… and sometimes in the afternoons, rarely in the mornings when the sudden realization of what had happened struck. But taking care of a pet proved enough to keep you distracted for most of the day. Thanks to your little ball of fur, you managed to get up in the mornings and took constant showers just to go out for walks with him.

The only contact you maintained with Steven was once a week when you sent him a photo of the kitten. You always picked the best one for him, and he patiently waited to ask you a thousand questions he knew wouldn't really have answers.

No matter how desperate he was to have you back, he would always respect your decision to want space. He'd sooner die than make you feel uncomfortable, and he genuinely preferred anything over risking the only contact he had with you. So, he never pushed much further, although he never forgot to make it clear how much he missed you.

He's beautiful! Looks so much like his mom. (You) How's he doing, apart from being really cute? How are you? I hope you're doing incredibly well because I'd hate it if you weren't. I miss you so much, and I know Marc does too. Do you think it's possible for us to talk one of these days? If not, I understand. It's not a problem for me to wait if you change your mind at any time. I'll always be waiting for you. ❤️ Have a great week.

Unfortunately, in every moment you assured yourself you were moving on from Steven (and maybe even Marc), you found yourself smiling at his messages, even when you weren't willing to reply.

Marc ended up losing his last remaining shreds of sanity when a month and a week had passed since he last saw you. He was doing his best to reassemble the pieces of his life that had fallen apart, but unfortunately, every time he tried to put a fragment back together, another seemed to crumble.

When Layla welcomed him, she didn't kiss his lips as usual, and mentally he thanked her for it. Physical contact with her hadn't felt the same for a while.

It's funny how at some point in his life he had found himself deeply in love with his wife's small but strong hands. Now, he could only think about how rough she felt touching him and how they didn't compare to your hands when you used to play with Steven's curls.

It was torturous realizing that there was nothing that didn't remind him of you.

"We need to talk," she said, turning her back to him. All Marc could see as he entered the apartment were her curls.

"What's going on?" He knew exactly what was going on, of course. He had been waiting for this for a while now.

"We can't go on like this, Marc."

In a horrible déjà vu, he could swear you had told him something similar, or maybe it was Steven, who was attentively observing the scene from the headspace.

"What do you mean, Lay?"

"You know what I'm talking about." It hurt him to realize his tears no longer had an effect on him. When did he stop loving her? "You're not the same after what happened."

The upside was that this was the most they had talked since they started their relationship, without shouting or either of them storming off.

"It's like you're not here. You come, we have sex, and then what?" There was that irritated look, filled with resentment that maybe he deserved. He had seen it in you, in Steven, and now in Layla.

Marc was so tired of fighting that he had no strength left to keep his pride up. He nodded silently and decided to take whatever she had to offer. Maybe receiving a bit of the pain he had distributed among different people would be enough to heal one of the million wounds inside him.

"Is it because of her, huh?"

'It's not about her, it's that I'm falling apart inside.' He thought.

After denying it for so long, he never thought that the first time he would acknowledge his feelings for you would be to Layla.

He nodded.

"You're broken, Marc." And he was, there was no denying it. "You're so shattered that you hurt everyone who tries to get close to you." If she only knew the pain he had caused Steven, she might turn the metaphorical knife she was stabbing him with. "You're going to end up alone, Marc Spector, completely alone."

When did she start hitting his chest accusingly? No idea. He had disassociated after hearing the word 'broken' from someone other than himself.

"Marc?" Steven's soft English accent called his attention from the other side of the room. His tear-filled eyes couldn't locate which reflection he was calling from. "Let's leave."

And that was another stab right in the heart. After all he had done to hurt Steven, was he still trying to protect him?

Maybe he really was the awful person life was trying to prove him he was.

"I'm sorry." It was the only thing that came out of his throat, his voice nearly inaudible due to the painful knot within.

Layla laughed at him, as was logical. How foolish he had been to think that saying sorry was enough to fix such a huge mistake.

"Let's leave." Steven's voice was so reassuring it gave him the strength to move his legs that seemed rooted to the ground.

"You understand that I'm breaking this up, right? I don't want you to come back here."

He felt like he was running out of breath when he nodded. He barely managed to clumsily leave the place; he was so confused. What hurt so much? As curious as it might sound, the breakup wasn't his main problem.

Maybe it was realizing everything he had caused through his mistakes, that everything could have been resolved if he hadn't been so stubborn.

The pain in his knees momentarily brought him back to reality. His body was giving up, and he could swear he was about to throw up in his now ex-partner's building. He didn't want to forcibly trigger a switch with Steven, but when the flashes of white and black appeared in front of his eyes, he knew it was better to just let it happen.

A week later, your hair was dripping as you rushed to open the apartment door, having just stepped out of the shower. You expected to find your upstairs neighbor, that sweet elderly lady who occasionally stopped by to ask for things like sugar or eggs. It was the highlight of your week, as it often resulted in desserts gifted to you a few hours later.

Ah, and she adored Sekhmet, who was already by the door acting as a second doorbell, eager for you to open up.

"You better not run off, silly," you said before swinging the door open.

You almost screamed curses until your lungs gave out when you found him on the other side. Holding a bouquet of yellow flowers and wearing black leather gloves you'd never seen before.

"Steven?" you whispered, more to yourself than to him, and almost immediately shook your head. He didn't have Steven Grant's perpetual shy or embarrassed expression.

Nor did he have Marc Spector's eternally furrowed brow, a look of constant stress. Although, right now, without any knowledge of what was going on, he was your best guess.

"Marc?" The only sound for several seconds was the purring of Sekhmet, rubbing against his legs repeatedly.

What a traitor.

He seemed just as surprised to see you, as if he hadn't been the one knocking on your door. You furrowed your brow when he offered his free hand.

"Jake." You took his hand to shake it. "Jake Lockley."

"Are you kidding?" That was all you said, not even annoyed or scared, just confused.

When he shook his head, you accepted that answer because you knew your boys well. Neither of them would joke about something like this. But what the hell was going on?

"Come in." You did your best to smile as you stepped aside to give him space when you noticed his intention was to enter your apartment.

"Ah, I… These are for you." He extended the flowers, and your chest tightened. It was like seeing Steven on your first date, but with an extra dose of confidence. "The yellow flowers are for an apology. They symbolize hope for a quick reconciliation."

You took the flowers in your hands and looked at them closely for a few seconds. They were beautiful.

"And why would you have to apologize to me, Jake Lockley?" You closed the door behind him. Being disoriented helped you take in this situation better because if it weren't for that, you'd probably be in the middle of a crisis.

You cleared your throat as you leaned your back against the apartment door. You studied him closely, and there was no doubt in your mind.

That wasn't Marc, and definitely not your Steven.

"Marc's foolishness," he commented. The yellow suited your complexion. He noticed when you brought the bouquet closer to smell it. When you closed your eyes and took a deep sigh Jake thought he fully understood why Marc and Steven's lives were now in pieces.

He would be too if he had lost you.

Thankfully, they had their protector, the one who didn't give up at the first obstacle, luckily for Marc since Steven seemed as persistent. And he seemed to have watched enough novelas to have the smooth talking of a 90s casanova.

His plan was trying his best, though, you were the first girl in Jake's life. And considering the circumstances, probably the only one.

"Marc is forgiven," you smiled with a weight on your chest as you placed the flowers on the central table in your small living room. The cat wouldn't leave Jake alone, and you knew it was because, to him, Jake was Steven, the one he missed so much. "When Steven and I…"

His gaze refocused on you. He wanted to let you know his full attention was fixed on you.

"Shouldn't you explain your presence first, Jake Lockley?" You questioned with that same smile that revealed how emotionally and physically exhausted you were. Still, he nodded, running his fingers through his curls to put them back in place.

An action that made you audibly swallow.

The hours passed quickly. It turned out that Jake spoke about everything that Marc and Steven seemed to keep to themselves. He knew very well that based on the memories of both boys, there was no one better than you to understand his situation.

You learned that Jake was a protector for both of them, and neither Marc nor Steven were aware of him until now. His priority was the two of them, and he knew you perfectly from both of their points of view.

It was surprising to you, but somehow comforting to know that there was someone to take care of Steven when you couldn't. Jake confirmed your theories that he was as hurt as you were by the breakup, that he missed you as much as you missed him.

Oh, and in the same vein, you understood that he had felt the need to take control more in the last few days. It seemed Marc wasn't in the best condition either. Ironically, you could believe everything Jake said, even though you had only known him for about three hours. But Marc remorseful? That part sounded like a fairytale to you.

"I'm here because I need…" He cleared his throat, his fingers playing with each other. A while ago, he had gotten rid of his gloves. "I would like to." He corrected himself. "I would like for you to give Marc a chance to talk to you, hermosa."

You wondered if he was trying to sweet-talk you or if the endearing nicknames rolled off his tongue so easily because he still shared a body with Steven and Marc.

"I can't do that right now, no, I hope you can understand why." You cleared your throat. Your nerves stood on edge when Jake got up to sit on the couch next to you.

He offered you his hand, and you looked at it doubtfully.

"Jake, no."

"Please."

Those stupid gigantic brown eyes were fixed on you, and beyond the expressions that differentiated Jake from others, all you saw was Steven's sweet gaze.

Your Steven.

You swallowed hard and reluctantly gave him your hand.

He cradled it between his palms.

"Marc is devastated." His fingers gently tightened around yours. "And don't get me started on Steven. I can see that you're not well either."

His voice was so soft. Velvety.

You allowed yourself to be fragile in front of him because how could you lie? You were breaking apart, and the loneliness, not having someone to tell every night how much you missed the love of your life, was killing you.

A pout formed on your lips slowly.

"Please, I need you to listen," he whispered as he leaned down to meet your sad, wounded gaze. "Would you do that for me? I'm begging you."

Your eyes were brimming with tears as you looked at him, for the third time, forced to face this awful situation. Once again, it was your responsibility to be reasonable and tolerant, to swallow your pride, and worse, trample your dignity.

For Marc, again.

"I can't. I won't."

He drew your hands closer and gently kissed them, your fingers, your knuckles, the back of your hand. All while maintaining eye contact.

"Hermosa? You don't have to do anything." You were breaking his heart. "Just listen to him, okay? Not now."

When you hesitated again, he knew he had to play a low blow,

his last card.

"For Steven, could you?"

With a sob, you nodded, and Jake didn't hesitate to encircle you with his arms, pressing you against his chest.

"Shhh, hermosa." You didn't have memories of yourself in this situation. You were usually the one offering comfort, not receiving it. It felt good, for once, to have support and companionship.

It didn't last long before you decided to regain your composure. With a red nose and teary eyes, you straightened up, and Jake let you go without protesting.

"Do they know you came?"

"I told you, they don't know about me, darling." He covered his hand with his jacket sleeve and wiped the tip of your nose. In any other situation, you would have refused and said that was gross, but at that moment, the gesture just made you smile childishly. "I'll call you, okay? So you and he can meet and… talk."

By this point, it seemed like a work arrangement, but you had no choice but to accept it. You nodded in silence and did your best to smile at Jake, who looked at you with compassion, although mentally you were confusing it with pity.

"I have to go; they think… they're sleeping." He elicited a very slight laugh from you. If you were confused, you didn't want to know what it was like for them. You just nodded and opened the door for him to leave.

You said goodbye with an almost awkward hug because while he wondered why his arms clung to you as if they were Steven's, you questioned whether this was just a formality for Jake. Whether he just wanted to go back to his normal life, and that's why he was doing this. Either way, you appreciated the gesture, or whatever it was. At least the company in the afternoon had been nice.

You had a lot to think about, clearly. Nothing was stopping you from ignoring Jake for the rest of your days and never clarifying the darned conversation he wanted you to have with Marc. However, deep down, you did want to lay everything out when it came to him.

Needless to say, you cried all night, confused, hurt, sad. Just like the previous nights, with Sekhmet in your arms, meowing because he missed the smell of Steven.

Just like you did.

i know i know this feels like we got nowhere but i have to get you ready for the end of this, ok?? from now on everything depends on marc so lol good luck for y'all

LOVE YOUUU thanks for following this thing that was supposed to have just one part lol the next one will finally be the end >:)

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l0v3tast3 · 1 year

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can we have more hcs w young!reader :o they were so cute, do u think you could write like sparring w them or something, ty!!

✎ of course omggg <3 i love this concept whenever i see anyone else write this kind of thing with platonic young reader i eat that shit up !!! also merry christmas and happy last day of hannukah to all who celebrate!!

✎ tags : gender neutral!reader, written with 19 y/o reader in mind, all platonic relationships, fluff, young!reader is stereotypical gen z kinda, this is probably the most light-hearted thing i've ever written but there's separate angst at the end because i can't stop myself, as usual it's not really proofread

♡ so of course it takes awhile for you to come out of your shell around the rest of the 141. the previously youngest one of the group, kyle, is 7 whole years older than you, so it's a bit awkward at first.

♡ but once you're comfortable around them, you let your guard down a little and start letting your "regular" personality show instead of the "work" one. this involves bouncing-off-the-walls levels of energy and constant jokes and references that only kyle gets, and that's only sometimes. the other three guys just exchange a look and move on.

♡ you're constantly doing little dances and just fidgeting around, playing with anything you can get your hands on and always bouncing a leg (also never actually sitting like a normal person, price doesn't understand how you're comfortable most of the time). once, when it was just you and soap, you taught him a dance he thought looked fun, but made you promise to never tell anyone else. you told ghost as soon as you saw him next, and that was the first time you ever saw ghost smile (under the mask, of course, but you could tell).

♡ you don't really respect the more "arbitrary" boundaries; you would randomly take food off of the other guy's plates without asking and you always had to be invading someone's personal space. after lots of scolding and you acting like they were denying you a fundamental human right, they learned that it really was easier to just accept it and give up. you don't take food from ghost's plate, because you may be a little dumb sometimes but you aren't stupid. sometimes he shoves his leftovers in your direction if he notices you aren't eating as much that day.

♡ when you aren't terrorizing one of the 141 members, they keep an eye on you while you focus on whatever your latest interest is with an intensity that they'd only expect from you on actual life-or-death missions. it always causes soap some actual concern for you, but you just think it's because he can't sit still, ever.

♡ once, after you had all returned from a mission, you went into your room to shower, came out, got something to eat, then went into your room and proceeded to spend the next 3 days completing the newest pokemon game. full pokedex, awesome outfit, full level 100 team, you had it all, and you proudly shoved the switch screen in their faces to show them your achievements once you deemed yourself done. they learned you were a perfectionist pretty early on, while they took turns checking on you every few hours.

♡ you'll do the thing of casually dropping something horrible that happened to you into a conversation, as if it was just some silly thing that happened the other day. they all just kind of do a double take, because none of them actually talk about that stuff. you just look up from whatever app you were absently fiddling with on your phone and wonder why everyone went quiet; they just move on, as usual.

૮ ’• ˕ •` ა here, have some sparring headcanons now!

♡ when you and ghost sparred for the first time, you swore up and down he was out to break every bone in your body. he told price that it was the easiest he'd went on a recruit in years (he did also say you did much better than he expected). despite your complaints, you got back up every single time he knocked you on your ass, and you quickly adapted to the way ghost fought. you still didn't win a single round, but that was more of a him-being-really-big thing.

♡ soap only goes easy enough on you to not break any bones, but it doesn't take much to get him fired up, and sparring is no exception. you spend the entire session on the defensive, just trying to keep yourself all intact. you always lecture him that you aren't the actual goddamn enemy before you spar with him now while he rolls his eyes and says you're being dramatic.

♡ kyle claims he isn't going easy on you but everyone knows he is. he can't help it; usually he doesn't care that much when he accidentally actually hurts someone when sparring, but the thought of leaving a scar on you rubs him the wrong way. he doesn't ever tell anyone this, but everyone sees how he always acts like an older brother to you.

♡ you only actually spar with price once, mostly as a joke, after you're all more acquainted. you're acting all cocky, basically just saying he's old and you'll put him in the retirement home a couple years early. you're on your back in less than five seconds with him looking down at you, a loud laugh booming out of his chest.

♡ one time, ghost must have been sick or something, because the match ended with you making what would have been the killing blow in a real fight. you had stared in amazement at your achievement, then started yelling at the other guys to ask if they had seen what you had done. ghost let you have your victory, finding your astronomical excitement funny (on the inside, of course).

♡ kyle is your easiest target. usually he doesn't even want to spar with you anymore, because he knows you'll probably end up throwing him to the ground with your full strength and saying you don't need to go easy on him, he's a grown ass man. you've mastered how to use his weight against him, and he knows it. he also knows the look you get when you're walking up to him to ask to spar, and at this point he just points you to soap or ghost and shoos you away. one time he actually said "go on, git!" to you; his british accent made it much more funny than he had intended.

♡ fighting against soap kind of has 50-50 odds of you winning. if you're not afraid to start bleeding in multiple areas that day, you'll most likely be able to pin him. if you don't feel really like it, then you pretty much just have to run away. your before-sparring lecture for him eventually gets accompanied by an after-sparring lecture from you while he helps you put band-aids on the new cuts and scrapes.

₍ᐢ.᎔.ᐢ₎ okay a couple angsty ones because i can't help it,,,

♡ price knows how young you are, and you know he does without him having to tell you, because sometimes you catch him looking at you with sad eyes that see a lot more than you do. usually, if the conditions are just right, you're all for attempting to get the team members to open up to you, but this is what you and price don't talk about. instead, you tell him not to worry, that you'll at least outlive him.

♡ they're all waiting for that one day that, on one of their missions, you'll see something or have to do something that you won't come back from, because it's inevitable in this line of work. but you find a way to smile, even after the worst days, and you always say it's because someone has to.

#call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john price #john price x reader #gender neutral reader #sfw #fluff #angst #— lilly writes! ♡

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arabellasleopardcoat · 2 months

Text

Pyrite - Final Chapter: Valonqar

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Daemon gets to know the joys of quarantine and faces conflicting feelings in the hours after Otto's and Mellos’ execution.

Warnings: Execution (Via beheading) Mentions of abortion. Mentions of physical violence. Dub con (Reader is given a choice but due to the nature of the power imbalance between Daemon and her, she doesn't really have one)Implied smut. Unhappy ending for anyone except Viserys.

A/N: I am sorry to the requester, I deviated a bit. But we are done!!!!

Daemon grabbed you by the arm and dragged you towards his chambers. He was not happy about being on babysitting duty, but he knew it was the only thing they could do. Without his protection, you would not last a day out there. He had been able to read the truth from your face after just one conversation. Otto Hightower was much more shrewd than him, you would break in seconds.

He supposed Aemma could keep you in her rooms and prevent the scandal. But privately, Viserys had confessed he feared she had gone mad with grief. He did not trust her to be in the same room as you without clawing your eyes out. Daemon did not understand her actions, since you had tried to help her, but he wasn't a mother either. Aemma seemed traumatized by her child's death.

She cursed your name for having your letter arrive too late. Daemon was not a woman. Nor did he presume to know the mind of one, but it seemed a little unfair. You had looked out for her at your own risk, yet Aemma still wanted more.

Viserys could not keep you, either. He was too afraid for his reputation, now that he was about to become a King. What would people think of a servant girl being kept in his rooms?

He didn't admit it, of course, saying that he was only looking out for your honor, but Daemon could tell that Viserys lusted for the throne. Now that he was so close, that he had lost so much on his quest for it, he was not going to lose it for an insignificant girl.

If he truly cared for your reputation, Viserys would have never agreed to keeping you in Daemon's chambers. Who would marry you, after? Everyone knew what Daemon liked, after all. Young maidens, all soft limbs and cute little faces, all for him to ruin. What commoner would want you after being a Prince's whore?

He wasn't planning on touching you, at first. But the way you looked up at him, all frightened eyes, while sitting on one of his chairs, made his cock twitch with interest.

You were a pretty crier. It was something Daemon had noticed when you were discovered. Your eyes would get glassy, and your lower lip would stick out in the slightest pout. You looked good enough to eat.

He could not wait to see you cry on his cock. But if he acted too soon, you would hate him for it. And they needed to be in your good graces so you didn't do anything stupid on the trial.

It was going to be hard, Daemon thought, as he took a look at your face. Aemma had done a number on you, and his retrieval hadn't been entirely gentle either.

You sniffled, pitifully. Daemon kneeled in front of you with a sigh.

“Let me look at your head.”

You gave him a distrustful look.

“I am not going to hurt you. I want to tend to your injuries.” He explained, patiently.

“For some reason, I don't believe you.” You frowned. “Give me a cloth and I can do it myself, Prince Daemon.”

Daemon fought the urge to laugh. Who did you think you were, ordering him around? Instead, he grabbed a cloth and a pitcher of water, and brought them over to you.

You wiped your hands and face with it. Daemon watched, aware that you would not be able to clean the wound on your head on your own. You tried regardless, dabbing a clean cloth over your scalp, trying to reach blindly for the spot that was oozing blood.

He kept his eyes on you, not interfering until you were visibly frustrated.

“Do you need help?”

“No.” You glared, rubbing at your scalp harshly. Daemon stepped closer and took the cloth from you, ignoring your indignant squeaks. He assessed the damage to the back of your skull.

Your hair, braided back as it was, was matted with blood. He was unable to see much, but it seemed to have stopped flowing.

“I will unbraid your hair to look at the wound.” Daemon warned, and started taking your braid apart.

You went very still on your chair, as he untangled sticky hair strands from each other. Your braid was simple, but well constructed. It was clear that you knew quite a bit about how to do your own hair, considering the softness of it. It didn't feel like the hair of any other commoner Daemon had ever felt before. A shame it was caked in blood. He would have to ensure you got a bath soon.

As he parted your hair, shifting it in different directions, he noticed the small laceration on your skull. Nothing was showing through it, not even bone. Daemon knew that was a good sign. It was sizable enough to merit stitches, though.

“I will need to sew this. Do you need milk of the poppy?” He asked, as he went to collect thread and needle from his vanity. A Maester should be the one doing this, and he doubted he had the necessary qualifications to do so, but at the moment, Daemon had no other choice. He didn't trust anyone.

“Do you even know how to sew wounds, my Prince?” You asked, looking at him over your shoulder. It was a fair question, had he not been a squire a few years back. Daemon had earned his knighthood not so long ago, and he still vividly remembered his training.

“I am a knight, girl.” Daemon rolled his eyes. It wasn't as if he styled his name with the title, like some other cunts did, but he still was one. “Do you know what that means?”

“That you are supposed to uphold your oaths, my Prince?” And oh, how sweet. You truly were a naive little thing. It was no wonder you had charged into danger as you had, if you still believed in that bullshit. To Daemon, knights were just like any other men. No more honorable nor more just. Oaths could be broken, after all.

“Yes. But also that I was a squire. I have sewn a few wounds before, including my own.” But never a head wound, he thought to himself. Ah, what you did not know wouldn't hurt you. If he told you, you would insist on a Maester. Daemon couldn't risk it. No one could know you were here.

“I rather be awake, my Prince.”

“Suit yourself.” He stepped behind you and pressed down on your nape, getting you to lower your head. Daemon made sure you were still before starting sewing.

With each pass of the needle, you tensed more. It was a foolish thing to do, only increasing your pain.

“Don't tense. The pain is worse like that.” He advised, and kept at it. You obeyed, forcing your body to relax. It still looked like you were sitting rigidly on the chair, but you weren't clenching your jaw any longer.

As Daemon progressed, he kept a close eye on your reactions. Knuckles turning white against the armchair, breath coming out in pained little sounds. But no tears fell. Had you cried them all already? Or were you too proud to show your pain to him?

With you unmoving, it was not difficult to finish your stitches. He took a step back, admiring the white thread decorating your skull. It contrasted harshly against the red of your blood. Daemon felt oddly proud of it.

“You can have the bed tonight.” He grumbled, annoyed. Why did he feel the need to help you, suddenly? Playing nice was one thing, but why was he feeling bad? It had only been a hit to the back of the head. He had done much worse when dueling men. Drew more blood, severed more limbs. Even took their lives.

But you were a woman. A girl, really. Around his age, and vulnerable to the world. It felt uncomfortably like hurting a child. Why? What made you special? He had taken quite a few maidenheads already, and not even then he had felt like this. You looked like a wounded bird.

“What if I get blood on your sheets?”

“The servants are used to it.” The joke felt flat on his tongue. He gave you a wink, but his heart wasn't in it. Daemon could not stand another second in this room with you, reeking of pain and staring at him with those betrayed eyes. Better to head out and hit the city. He needed to numb himself. And by the time you were up, he would just be getting in.

Daemon allowed you to exist undisturbed in his room for almost a week. He provided water for you to bathe, and fresh clothes for you to change into. The routine stayed the same. He went out at night, and you slept in his bed. When you woke, you had to get out of it and entertain yourself so he could sleep.

He usually enjoyed a night out. But the constant whoring and drinking was beginning to tire him, especially since it was affecting his training. There were only so many brothels he could visit before noticing he was unsatisfied with the stock their carried because not one of them looked like you.

Ugh. The urge to fuck you was messing with his head, making him unfocused. Daemon had actually lost a sparring match this week, but he was unsure if it was from a lack of sleep or being plagued by thoughts of you.

He needed to get you out of his system. He had enough. You no longer looked like a wounded little bird. It was time to make his move.

That night, Daemon decided to skip the brothels. He sat on his bed, freshly bathed after training, and just watched you stew.

You were sitting on a pillow in the corner of his room, some books spread out around you. They were part of his small collection on Valyrian herbs. You were wearing your night shift already, and sneaking glances at him every few minutes.

He was breaking your unspoken arrangement, you sure thought. Daemon was supposed to leave so you could sleep. A shame it was not happening tonight.

“Girl.” He said, once he had enough of watching you squirm. “Pour me a glass of wine.”

You looked at him. You gave an annoyed little huff. Even if you did not dare voice it, Daemon could see the protest in your eyes. You were not used to serving men, from what he could tell. Nor were you used to serving wine. You thought yourself above those tasks, one of those fancy handmaidens that only brush hair and run baths.

And it showed. Sure, you were tidy and didn't make a mess of his rooms, but you didn't help either. You had not reached for a broom in your whole stay, or dusted anything. If he wasn't a tidy person, the place would be as unsanitary as a cheap brothel.

It had never bothered him before, not being able to call for a servant to clean his rooms. But it now did. He tried not to think very hard about why that was. It didn't mean anything. Your presence did not upset him. He was just bothered by the fact that you were like a leech.

Daemon had no use for you. His space was being invaded by a girl with unsettling eyes, who acted as if this was her prison and did not contribute at all. Anyone would be bothered by it. Right?

Anyone would be done with it. Daemon would rather behead Otto and end it all. But apparently, you could not just behead one of your subjects, or everyone started talking about Maegor the cruel.

“I do not have any use for a commoner.” Daemon stated, plainly. He advanced towards you, grasping your chin in his hand. “Do you understand what will happen to you if I kick you out?”

“I'll die.” Your voice shook. Daemon scowled. He didn't like the thing that you were doing with your eyes.

“Then you best try to please me, right?” He ran his thumb over your cheek. “Wouldn't want me to hand you over.”

You shook your head. You went and poured him his wine.

“I don't like your eyes.” Daemon said, impatiently. “Try to smile more.”

You gave him a weak smile. It set the tone for the rest of your interactions. You were a clumsy cup bearer, and took badly to sleeping on the floor. Daemon had to constantly snap at you to wipe the sad look from your face. It looked ugly, and the only good thing you had to your favor were your looks. That was why his stomach twisted when he caught you thinking of home or your family.

When the day of the trial came, you looked relieved. You managed to give your testimony without any issue, and his grandfather ruled in their favor. Aemma gets her revenge, with the King allowing Viserys to bring the head of Ser Otto and Mellos to his wife. He can't bring himself to do it, so it's Daemon who swings the sword instead.

Otto Hightower kneels for his execution with great grace. He sends Daemon a glare, but doesn't say a word. Mellos, on the other hand, screams and pleads all the way up the steps to the block.

Daemon gets a sick sort of satisfaction when he sees them both kneeling at his feet. Is this what being King feels like? He wonders, as he shares a secret smile with Aemma, who stands in the first row of the crowd. The power to hurt those who have wronged you.

Next to Aemma, you stand. You look pale and fidgety, but the grip she has in your arm prevents you from escaping. It's only fair, she had said, that you get to witness the King's justice you helped bring. You don't seem excited about it.

“Any last words?” Daemon asks, as he unsheathes Dark Sister.

“Please, don't, this has been a mistake!” Mellos screams. Daemon waits patiently. When nothing more than incoherent sobs come out from his mouth, Daemon glances up at his grandfather.

King Jaehaerys looks grim, but determined. He nods. Daemon takes Mellos’ head with one clean swoop of his sword. The head rolls into the basket with straw, preventing the blood from running everywhere. The eyelids still move. The crowd gasps, and Daemon feels strangely empty.

“I am ready for my last words now.” The Hightower cunt says, with a firm voice. Daemon can't help be both annoyed and impressed by it. Most men, like Mellos, would be shitting themselves in fear. But Ser Otto remains calm and regal, even when he knows he is about to face death.

“Speak.”

“Good pious people, I have come here to die, for according to the law and by the law I am judged to die. I do not wish to accuse any man or woman, for if the King says I am to die, I shall. I only ask that my actions are judged fairly in the years to come, and no harm comes to my family. Let it not be that the crimes of the father follow the son. I take my leave of this world and ask you to pray for me. To the Seven I commend my soul, please, Stranger, have mercy on me.”

And maybe it was the hypocritical speech, or the fact that Otto Hightower was the mastermind behind the plot to hurt his family, but this time Daemon swing his sword with much more force than necessary. The head rolls out of the box and into the crowd, falling near the first row, among horrified screams.

Right at your feet.

You turned and left. And Daemon stood, with his bloodied sword, still near the executioner's block.

There is a feast after. One that you are not allowed to attend. Nothing so crass as to celebrate the death of the two criminals, but rather, the settling of the succession issue. The plot, even if it had to do nothing with Rhaenys, had been damaging enough to doom her hopes of being Queen.

It is then, high on victory and still wearing a dirtied sword, that Daemon decides to use his power over you. It's not a conscious choice. There is something in him that broke tonight, something to do with a severed head and your look of disgust, and the cheers of Aemma and Viserys. It's something about feeling empty, when having the world at his fingertips.

He is soon to be the Prince of Dragonstone. With Viserys lack of heirs, he might even become King one day, if he doesn't set aside Aemma and finds himself a younger wife.

Daemon wonders if Aemma realizes how precarious her position has turned, now that she got her revenge. If she had kept quiet, if she had let Rhaenys get the Iron Throne, her position would be secure. The Arryns would not allow Viserys to put her aside.

But now, that her husband will be King, she will never be safe. Queens fall every day, as Rhaenys has learned. It seems it is time for Aemma to learn that lesson.

You are packing your things when he gets there. Clothes and a small collection of trinkets from the time you had spent by his side. It enrages him. You can't leave. Not when you are the only person who can understand what these weeks have been like. The only one who knows exactly the kind of monster Viserys has turned him into.

“Where are you going?” It comes out more aggressive than he intends to, but you no longer cower at his voice.

“I don't know.” You meet his eyes and keep your voice soft. “Away, my Prince.”

“No, you are not.” Daemon orders, and leaves Dark Sister laying on the rug. The blood rusts the blade, but what does it matter, at this point? If you are leaving, he can call a maid tomorrow. If you are not, everyone can know you as his whore. “Pour me some wine.”

You obey, in silence. Your hands shake slightly.

“Pour yourself a cup, too.” Daemon says, patting the space by his side. You sit, very stiffly.

“Well done.” Daemon says. You give him a little nod. “Now take your dress off.”

“Excuse me?” You jump up so fast, you might as well have never been sitting. Your hands ball by your side, an indignant expression clear on your face.

“Come on, girl. You are not that stupid.” Daemon rolls his eyes. He has protected you for nearly a fortnight, let you take his bed and food and not even once touched you. He killed a man today who would have crushed you like a worm. No one else would want you after this, no one else would understand you. “You owe me a great debt. What other use could I have for a commoner?”

“I can pay my debt in other ways.” You protest, and go back to gathering your things.

Daemon laughs. It sounds broken to his own ears, cruel and shrill. You turn to face him, noticing the difference in tone. Yet, he is not deterred, even when he barely recognizes the cruel tone he is speaking in.

“Yes. You can. I think you would make a fine dragon keeper. You have little skill for anything else, but anyone can shovel shit. I think five years of that would be a fair trade.”

“Or I could just go.” You threaten.

“You could.” And get yourself murdered in the process because there is no way Viserys and him are letting you walk away with all you have learned in your stay with them. And if they don't get you, sickness and famine might. As the northerners say, winter is coming.

“Princess Aemma…” And it’s only then that Daemon gets fed up. You think Aemma out of all people will protect you? Aemma? Has he been doing such a shitty job of it?

“Aemma said I had to protect you. She did not say I couldn't have you.”

“I…” You start, but Daemon is too desperate to care about how cruel he is starting to sound.

“You should hope her reach doesn't go far, as the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Tell me, how much do you have? Enough to buy passage into Essos?”

“I'll stay.” You untie your dress, with tear filled eyes. It falls to your hips. Daemon rushes to you like a man possessed. The urge to own, claim, to keep, is too strong to resist.

He wastes no time in burrowing himself in your skin, your hair, carving a place for himself inside you. He is a monster. And intends on devouring you whole.

His love will strangle you until nothing is left. Maybe one day you will be his Queen if Viserys doesn't leave Aemma. By then, you will be just like him.

He kisses down your throat, and lowers a hand between your thighs.

“Stay.” Daemon says, and it feels like the first link on the chain. “Stay.” Muttered between your thighs, as he drowns himself on you.

“Stay.” As your blood stains his shaft, and you moan, confused by whatever you are feeling. As your hips meet his, as you are desperate to choke, to die in his hands.

“I'll stay.” You whisper back, coming down for your high, and the lock clicks.

Has really a key been thrown away if no one hears the sound it makes as it falls?

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mr2swap · 6 months

Text

wedding gift for "dad"

I feel terrible about how things turned out for me and my son David, but there is nothing I can do now. All I can do is live the life David always wanted for himself and his husband, Andrew.

I met Andrew when he was just a little boy who used to come every afternoon to play with my son David, the two of them were inseparable so much that I came to consider Andrew as the second son I never had, the years passed, and I saw how Andrew and David became men, until that moment I never believed that there was more than friendship between them, they were always so fanatical of spending their afternoons training in the gym until long hours of the night, studying in long sleepovers that lasted all weekend week and rehearsing their choreographies for the dance club they were both enrolled in. I guess I should have seen the signs.

10 years ago while the whole family was together and David was next to him, he decided to tell us the truth, they had been secretly dating for so long that I almost choked on a mouthful of my wife's delicious meatloaf, they all seemed quite happy at that moment everyone except me.

I was so stupid back then that at that moment, I decided that the man in front of me was not my son anymore, I started treating him differently, I cut myself off from him and Andrew completely, damn it! I even felt sorry that everyone on our street knew about it before I did. I'm 59 years old, in my day all that shit was kept secret, of course there were gay people, but I never thought David would be one of them.

For the good of the family I decided to just ignore David, but when he and Andrew came to my house with an invitation to their wedding I just couldn't help myself anymore, I told David that I didn't agree with his lifestyle and if he wanted to be gay had to be done outside this house and forever, I wouldn't attend the wedding of two fagots, let alone let someone from my family know about it.

From that moment I did not see David or Andrew again, until their wedding day, I was alone at home watching the football game on television, my wife had betrayed me and left me alone to go to the wedding from David and Andrew, I drank a six pack of beers just to forget today's wedding, but while you were watching the game something strange happened, I don't know if it was the effect of the beers or maybe the strange wish that my son made, I swear that In a simple blink that I lived in slow motion I was transported from the comfortable sofa in my house to a hotel room.

I looked around surprised because my living room had become an elegant room on the twelfth floor of a hotel, believing that I was in an extremely realistic dream, I looked at my hands, they were no longer old and wrinkled, now they were firm and young, my clothes I had also changed instead of a dirty tank top that highlighted my huge belly and yellowed boxer shorts I was now dressed in a fancy tuxedo, I looked down in surprise that my belly didn't obstruct my vision to see my feet which were now in a pair in elegant black shoes.

-This must be a dream…-

I said out loud and startled by the sudden change in the tone of my voice, something seemed familiar in that voice, but I didn't know what it was, I decided to believe that I was in a lucid dream thanks to all the pain that I normally suffered in my back and on my knees they disappeared, with my long and firm fingers I held my hard and firm pectorals, even the sensations on my skin were different and for some reason my nipples were also much more sensitive.

I kept using my fingers to highlight each of my muscles, I continued down towards my chiseled abs, surprised to find myself with the hardness of my muscles instead of a grotesque round belly, I looked to the sides trying to find a mirror, so I could see myself better, and luckily I found one that was on the other side of the huge hotel room.

When I first looked at my reflection, I immediately recognized the face that was now mine.

-AHHH!!!-

Indeed, that was not my face, it was the face of my son David, I fell backwards terrified by the impact of seeing my son again and at the same time knowing that I was him, I remained silent for a whole minute making movements slowly while crawling to the mirror my eyes did not take off for a single second from the reflection in the mirror that imitated each of my movements.

As I knelt in front of the mirror, I examined my son's mature handsome face, his perfectly trimmed beard, his whitened teeth, and his hair which I had recently painted black.

-What the fuck is… This?-

I caressed my new face while making strange expressions with my son's face in the mirror, to verify that it was me who was there. Suddenly, from the other side of the room, the ringing of a telephone made me wake up from hypnosis in who was submerged while looking at my face.

I stood up and awkwardly walked to the phone now that I was aware of the vast difference between my obese body and the young body of my gay son.

Before I had the phone in my hands I looked at the number, immediately recognizing it was the number we had had in the house for years, less and less convinced that this was a dream, I picked up the phone and simply answered it.

-He-hello?-

For five long seconds that seemed like an eternity the phone remained silent, a hoarse and thick voice broke the silence in which we were.

-Dad are you?-

-Who speaks? David? for the love of god what's happening?-

-Oh shit! If you are the one in my body, I… I'm sorry, I think this is my fault.-

-David, where the hell are you? and where am i? why is this your fault?

I had to sit down for the long conversation we had that day, he doesn't know exactly what happened, he was just getting ready to go down to the reception and be on his wedding day, but it seems an unexpected gift arrived, from out of nowhere a mysterious gift appeared on the floor, it was in front of the door so I guess it was a gift from her future husband or maybe the reception had sent them something in gratitude for renting the ballroom, the gift box was simple and it only had a name on it.

From: Mr2 Swap

He thought the gift was a mistake, that it simply wasn't for him and one of the hotel workers had got the wrong room, but for some reason he couldn't leave the gift unopened, it was almost as if he was calling him .

When he finished dressing, the gift was still there and David could not resist the supernatural curiosity that invaded him, he took the gift in his hands and opened it, he was not expecting anything specific, but what the box contained surprised him, it was a simple golden ticket

"Valid for one wish"

David looked everywhere, but there were no more letters or signs of who had sent the ticket.

-A wish huh?… I just wish dad was here to see how I get married-

And after that we both woke up in each other's place, while there Disney was counting all this madness I looked everywhere even under the bed, but there was no ticket not even a gift box it was like after his wish was fulfilled would have vanished.

While I was still looking for some clues as to where that strange gift had gone, my wife also dressed in an elegant dress entered the room, as soon as I saw her I knew that she had to find out what had happened to me and David But the words wouldn't come out of my mouth no matter how hard I tried I couldn't say a single word about the exchange or about the real David now being drunk in my body thousands of miles from here.

-the wedding planner is waiting for you son, if you take longer on the phone, we will have to postpone dinner-

Caught by the magic of the ticket, I act exactly as David did, I took one last look in the mirror and with a smile I fixed my hair, I definitely wouldn't act like this in a situation like this, but David's personality was so dominant in to my mind that now that so much time has passed since then I can't believe that I actually married another man.

I drank a couple of drinks to ease the tension but as soon as I saw Andrew for the first time through my son's eyes it was like seeing him for the first time, he was a bit taller than me he had a lovely smile and had a body so fucking hot in that body hugging black suit that a boner formed when I kissed him in front of my family and David and Andrew's friends

I will never forget my first kiss with Andrew, his lips were firm but soft, his tongue was so wild that I was carried away by the intoxicating taste of his saliva and that slight taste of champagne, with his long and strong arms he caressed my round butt giving me a prelude to what would be my wedding night, the grip on his fingers dug into the meat of my ass like teeth, in my old life I never allowed myself to be weak, but now I enjoyed my newly husband's manipulations.

By the time the wedding ended I was drunk enough to let myself go, the real Andrew noticed my nervousness a bit, but he thought it was just the nerves before the wedding, I hadn't seen my son or Andrew in years, I knew what enough for the time we were together and for what his mother said to convince him that I was the real David.

Hours went by and it got darker and darker, when all the guests had left and me and Andrew went up to the room, the real performance began, the second we walked through the door immediately Andrew took my hands and he tossed me onto the bed like I was a wild animal I stripped naked revealing my son's years worked muscles, my heart was pounding like crazy as I watched Andrew take off his shirt in front of me, I had seen Andrew shirtless a lot of times when I was in my old body, but now it was very different.

As if they had a life of their own my hands began to adore Andrew's massive hairy pecs, I pinched those nipples that were in front of me and buried my face in the middle of his pecs, the smell was delicious, sweat, and a slight scent of champagne spilled on his shirt, Andrew seemed to be enjoying it even more than I was, his moans that must have seemed repulsive to me before now only turned me on more and more as he released one.

Andrew I can't contain myself for another second he took me by the waist and turned my body so that I was lying face down towards the bed, my legs settled as if they knew exactly what was happening, I arched my back and lifted my ass to display it in front of Andrew, this time the moans that filled the room were my own.

Andrew had plunged his face into my ass and with the same ferocity that he had desecrated my mouth he did with my anus, even though he had magically acquired the personality of my son David, all the sensations will be new to me, and my God. , what fucking incredible sensations!

As he used his tongue to please me with his strong, calloused, firm hands, he took my penis and began to masturbate it, for a straight man and I have done the old-fashioned like me all these pleasurable sensations were incredible.

But neither me nor Andrew were satisfied, Andrew stuck his tongue out of my hairy ass and slowly inserted his cock inside me, it was a painful sensation, but somehow familiar and pleasant, he fucked me so hard that day that surely we didn't let sleep to the people in the next room.

He was so drunk and so tired that day that I didn't realize when he had put me to sleep, and when I woke up to the rest of Andrew, I almost fell out of bed. Immediately, all the memories of the day before came to mind. I got out of bed as quietly as possible, took the phone and unlocked it with Andrew's face, it had 58 calls from the real David.

I changed into a pair of my son's tight revealing underwear and went into the bathroom, called David and told him everything that had happened that night, completely avoiding that Andrew and I had fornicated.

It was strange hearing my son cry in my old voice, but there was nothing I could do to comfort him, I just promised him that he would try to figure this out and not ruin his life or his new marriage.

Since that day I have been pretending to be David, every day is something new and to be honest it is exciting, thanks to my new personality I was able to fully adapt to David's gay life the new ideas did not seem disastrous to me as they would have seemed to me in my Old body, I always thought my son was a model or something, I soon found out that he and Andrew were the best strippers in the city where we now live, we had loads of money, I never thought fagots would pay so much just to see me dance, having fun, kissing and stroking my husband's cock in public.

It's been three years since then, Andrew and I have a nice house that we remodeled, a lot of savings in the bank, and we recently started an OnlyFans account as a couple, and he never suspected that she married her boyfriend's father.

Actually no one ever found out about the body swap, that's still our secret between me and David, and speaking of David we talked again after the swap, he has a hard time adjusting to his new life as a bigoted middle-aged man, all those stupid ideas that used to be in my head are now in hers but I think she's adjusting to her new gay son.

It's a bit hard to admit, but I prefer my new life, so I'll try not to open a mystery gift from Mr2 swap again.

Hello, if you liked this story and you want more, you can take a look at my Ko-Fi page to see my most recent stories, see my new stories and support me to continue creating this hot content.

#body swap #male body swap #bodyswap #body switch #male transformation

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multific · 1 year

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Finally

Carl Grimes x Reader

Summary: You thought Alexandria will be a place where you could finally be with him. What you didn't expect is another girl trying to steal him from you.

As you stepped out onto your porch, you saw them climbing over the wall.

This wasn't the first time you saw Carl and Enid leaving together.

You and Carl basically grew up together.

Lately, you caught yourself catching feelings for the boy and now, you were incredibly jealous.

You shouldn't be, he made his choice, he choose Enid over you. And you had to accept that.

But it was still difficult.

You loved him. And although you never confessed, you felt his rejection.

Enid was beautiful, you couldn't argue with that.

"Hey Kid!" yelled Daryl as he walked over to you.

"Morning!"

"Wanna come with me on a run? Rick wanted us to get more clothes for everyone and my fashion sense is not the best." Daryl was always like a father to you. Ever since they found you, he always took good care of you and you were extremely thankful for that.

"Yeah, let's go!" you replied, hoping this would take your mind off of Carl.

---

The run went smoothly, you were able to secure good clothes which for sure will help during the upcoming winter.

You let out a long sigh before exiting the car.

Daryl was quick to follow and he soon grabbed your attention.

"Kid!" you turned and look at him. "I will punch him in the face if you want. He might only have one eye working but he was blind even when he had two if he doesn't choose you."

You almost laughed. Of course, he would notice what was going on with you.

"It's not that... I'm just being stupid, I let myself believe he sees me more than a friend."

"He is the stupid one. You are amazing! And if he doesn't see that, I feel sorry for him." you smiled and walked over to Daryl, giving him a quick hug before the others would storm the car to grab clothes.

"Thank you." you whispered before heading home.

Night approached quickly.

It was getting dark when a knock came on your door.

You opened it and sure enough, it was Carl. Before he could speak, you spoke up.

"Oh, you must have not seen, but this is my house. Enid lives further down the road. Good night, Carl." you said as you slammed the door in his face.

Another knock made you groan, opening the door again. "Enid lives down that way, Carl. This is my house."

"What is your problem?"

"My problem? Oh, nothing. Did you come over to brag to me about your little date today? Did you have fun with Enid? I hope you did. I sincerely hope you did. So, go and bother your girlfriend please and stop playing with me!" you wanted to slam the door again but he stopped it with his foot as he walked into your house with you, closing the door behind you.

"I went with her to keep her safe, it wasn't a date."

"Oh, right. I'm sure it wasn't."

"What is your problem anyway? Do you hate Enid that much?"

"I don't hate her. Can you please leave? I really don't feel like talking."

"I do. You have to tell me why are you angry with me. I only left with her to make sure she is safe."

"You promised me you would come over today."

"And I did. I'm here!" you rolled your eyes.

"Right, so you can go now to her. Make sure she is safe while she sleeps and doesn't run off!" you pointed at your door but he didn't move.

"Are you jealous of her?"

"OF COURSE I AM, Carl! I knew you for a longer time, you used to keep me safe! You used to make sure I am okay, but now, all I see is you running off with her. I know I am boring, I get that. You should really leave now, Carl. Let me forget about you and about my feelings so I can move on." you wanted to move to the door but he stopped you, he was meant to grab you but you moved.

"What do you want me to do? Not have friends?!"

"Did she kiss you?" you asked so suddenly it even surprised you. But his silence spoke volumes. "Remember at the prison? I know we were young but... When I was sick, you promised me something Carl. I am not going to be your second choice. The one that you run to when every other choice is gone. If I can't be first, I don't want to be more than friends. You can run off kissing girls as you please. Leave me alone now, please."

"She kissed me, I didn't kiss her. I stopped her because I love you."

"Love me?! If you loved me you wouldn't go running into every wall whenever a cute girl bats their eyelashes at you!" you were rather sad than angry. "You never kissed me. I was there for you through it all. And she just..." you looked into his eye, you knew boys were rather... stupid like they didn't understand if you don't tell them straight. "I hope you will be happy with her. I just can't wait to see your face when a new kid joins and she runs off with him instead of you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Everyone always wants the newer, shinier things. You are that for now."

"You think that's why she likes me? I saved her. I know the promises we made but we were only kids, Y/N."

"What about the promise you made yesterday?" you felt a tear roll down your cheek. "I was truly stupid wasn't I? Please leave." you turned to walk to your bedroom, leaving him in your living room.

He could hear you crying, but he was torn. And so, he left.

---

Next couple of days you completely avoided Carl, but you did hear about a scuffle him and Daryl got into.

Daryl walked up to Carl who was on their porch with Rick.

"Carl, I'll give you one warning, playing with people like that!"

"Daryl! What are you-" Rick tried to interject but Daryl was already holding Carl by his collar.

"You playing with Y/N's heart. I do not care if you are my friend's son, you do not play with Y/N!" Rick grabbed Daryl and pulled him off of his son. "If you are big enough to play with people like that, you are big enough to own up to them!" Daryl said before he gave a look to Rick and left.

Rick turned to his son, waiting for an explanation.

You tried your best not to think about him.

But it was extremely difficult given that for almost your entire life he was there.

Every morning you stared at the wall waiting for him or Enid to turn up, neither of them did.

You went back to do your job and take care of the plants.

But every minute was true torture. You had a feeling that this will be better with time.

You could get used to him being gone.

Or so you thought.

You asked Rick if you were allowed to move and live at Hilltop. And he agreed.

Knowing your situation, he apologized in his son's place, but you didn't want to hear that.

You were the silly one.

You shouldn't have fallen in love.

You will be moving in two days.

You will miss your house. It was a rather lovely one, small and comfortable but you needed to move on.

Daryl also understood and supported your decision.

"You are a full on woman now." he said when you told him the news.

Word began to spread of course. Rumours spread like wildfire around here, but you couldn't care less.

First people said it was Carl who sent you away, then somehow the truth began to spread.

Carl soon heard the news of you moving.

He immediately walked to your house.

You saw him walking up the porch as he let himself in.

"Carl..."

"I'm not here to argue. I am simply here to ask you to stay." he said as he quietly closed the door behind himself.

"I can't. I kept telling myself that I would be fine if I saw you with someone because at least I would know that you are happy. But I can't."

"I was stupid. I was too overwhelmed, having her and you and I..."

"You enjoyed the attention, I get it. But I need to move on."

"I don't want you to move on. I don't want you to stop loving me, Y/N."

"I'm not going to do the tango with you Carl. Tango is not meant for three."

"I know. I will tell Enid, I never saw her more than a friend, I just didn't realize it before. But I do love you, Y/N."

You nodded once before looking around.

"I'll wait for you to talk with her. Then... then you can bring me on a date." he nodded eagerly.

You put all of your things back where they belong.

Now, you just waited for Carl to clear the air.

You not leaving also raised some questions in the community.

The next day, there was a knock on your door, you were about to have dinner but decided to check who it was.

"Carl?" but he didn't say anything, he quickly captured your lips in a sweet yet passionate kiss.

"I was so stupid for doubting anything. I knew I loved you for a long time now, please forgive me." you placed your palm on his cheek.

"It's okay. We are here now."

"And neither of us is leaving." he responded, making you smile as you pulled him in for another kiss.

Next day, as you two walked over Alexandria, hand in hand, you could hear many people saying 'finally'. Including his father and Daryl.

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

#Carl Grimes x reader #Carl Grimes x you #Carl Grimes imagine #Carl Grimes imagines #Carl Grimes x fem reader #carl grimes x fem #carl grimes x fem!reader #The Walking Dead #walking dead au #walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #walking dead imagine #the walking dead imagines #walking dead imagines #the walking dead x reader #walking dead x reader

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loquaciousferret · 1 year

Text

Country Lovin’

Summary: Pre-outbreak AU, you let yourself get picked up by a handsome stranger after your set playing at a local country bar. After giving you the night of your life, Joel Miller might just be your new muse.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, alcohol consumption, drink driving. sex whilst intoxicated, use of pet names, unspecified age gap, unprotected sex. As always- maybe more! Read at own risk

A/N: I’m on a roll with Joel content at the minute, I don’t know why this specific scenario came to mind, but reader is a country singer performing at a bar where tommy and joel are drinking and joel flirts his way into bed with you… ahh! It’s also definitely the type of story I could see myself writing a part 2 for…! Enjoy…

P.S. count the Taylor Swift references throughout haha.

You finished your set to a healthy round of applause and a few cheers and whoops from the more intoxicated patrons of the bar. It wasn’t your first time playing in this particular bar, but it was your first time being invited to play a Saturday, and the feeling of playing to such a packed venue was incredible.

You lifted your guitar from your neck by the strap and placed it carefully in it’s case at the side of the small stage, before making your way over to the bar. As you stood there waiting to catch a bartenders attention and order something, you noticed a presence hovering close to your left side. You turned to face it and found yourself looking up into the eyes of a man, a handsome man. One who you had noticed had made eye contact with you numerous times throughout your set, whilst he had been throwing back glasses of scotch with another guy at a table close to the front of the stage.

“I’d hate to be the guy you wrote that last one about.” He smirked. “Sounds like he really fucked it up.”

You smiled, it wasn’t a compliment so you didn’t know what to say in return. Thanks wasn’t the right word. “Uh, yeah, um..” You mumbled, unable to find a suitable response.

“You’re incredible.” He said. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“Oh… Uh.” You blushed, so he had been flirting with his opening line?

“What’s your poison?” He asked, persistent.

“Something fruity.” You said back, which made him roll his eyes.

“Of course.” He remarked, but there was no hint of anything mean behind his words.

He attracted the barkeeps attention faster than you had, “Another scotch,” he pointed at his own glass. “And something fruity for the lady.”

You were distracted, your attention drifting around the bar. It was busy tonight with a crowd of all ages, a few groups of young people roughly your age, the majority middle-aged like the man you stood with, and some even older than that, some real old school guys. Similar to most country bars you would play at, but this one was special, one of the busiest in the city and the previous stomping ground of a number of major stars. Lots of people told you it was a stupid dream, but it was one you were holding onto well into your twenties whilst you finished college.

You realised you might be coming across as rude to the man who had bought you the drink you were waiting for, so you returned your attention to him, and found his gaze had never left you, he was staring down at you intently. You took in his features, a strong brow-bone, nose and sharp jaw. Dark brown messy hair with eyes to match, stubble and a defined moustache to top it off. Handsome in a rugged, properly Southern way.

“I haven’t seen you around.” He says. “I’m Joel.”

“It ain’t my first time, but it’s for sure my busiest night so far.” You said.

“You’re really incredible.” He said, repeating his words from before. Something about his eyes told you that he was genuine in his compliments, and that they weren’t just an attempt at flattery. But you sensed he was working that angle too.

You considered him carefully, and the sight from his perspective of you gazing up at him innocently through thick lashes, plump lips slightly parted, was enough to turn him on.

The bartender interrupted your intense staring contest, sliding you a drink that was a startling shade of crimson, with sugar round the rim, and for him, a rich amber liquid over rocks of ice.

“Cheers,” You offered, holding your glass out to him, and he returned the gesture, clinking the edges of the glasses. Some of the sugar from the edge of your glass transferred onto the rim of his scotch, offending his taste buds when he brought it to his lips, shuddering dramatically.

You giggled at his display and savoured the sweetness as you took your first sip.

“What you need drinks like that for anyway, darlin’? You’re already sweet enough to give some of us guys toothache.”

You rolled your eyes but gave him a laugh. These practiced lines must serve him well with most women in these establishments, and his gorgeous chocolate brown puppy dog eyes that hold your gaze as he delivers them certainly didn’t hurt either.

You found that the conversation flowed easily with Joel. He had the southern gentleman act perfected to a point, flirtation innocent enough to be plausibly deniable but certainly noticeable if you chose to lean into it. And you did find yourself doing so, loosening up with cocktail after cocktail, him knocking back scotches at an equally dizzying pace.

You weren’t sure how long you had been engrossed in his company when eventually you recognised the man he had been with earlier, approaching him from behind and putting a hand on Joel’s shoulder.

“Is that it, have I been subbed out as tonight’s company, Joel?” His cheeky tone suggested to you that Joel made a habit of this.

“Tommy,” Joel put an arm round him. He was a good few inches taller than the other man, Tommy, but they shared facial similarities, the same moustache, and dress sense. “Let me introduce you to my good friend here,” he said, turning to you.

Tommy grasped one of your hands in both of his, shaking it politely. “Pleasure to meet you, how do you do?” He shared Joel’s cheeky grin. “Helluva show you put on tonight.” He praised.

“You’re too kind.” You waved a hand bashfully. Most people assume that performers thrive on attention and praise but you have never quite gotten used to accepting the compliments that came your way during and after your shows, constantly a blushing mess whenever people congratulated you and fussed over how well you did.

“Make sure my brother takes care of you, alright? I’m gonna hit the road.” He said, offering you a wink before turning round to shake Joel’s hand. “I’ll catch you in the morning, buddy.”

A gesture of his head, indicating over his shoulder to a beautiful blonde who was stood a few metres away, twirling her curls between her fingers and watching Tommy with a smile on her face and a set of “Fuck-me” eyes if you had ever seen them. You laughed a little as you watched the brothers exchange a look. Joel’s eyebrows seemed to say well done.

You could tell he was a womaniser, a trait him and his brother clearly shared, and they didn’t mean to conceal it in any way, either. But as he had pointed out so astutely in his opening line, the heartbreak that was the inspiration behind your latest tracks had done quite a number on you, and so whilst it wasn’t in your usual nature… you were considering taking a risk on this devilishly handsome stranger tonight.

You laughed at his jokes and fluttered your eyelashes, more for your own fun as you knew he was already sold on you. But he was trying hard to chat you up and you had to give something in return to let him know he was getting somewhere.

You both kept up the pretence of waiting until it was polite to move closer together, for you to tease a light touch on his bicep and him on your upper thigh in return. His flirtations became more overt and eventually he was whispering them directly into your ear, his hot breath tickling you, his hands playing with your hair and pushing it back behind your shoulders to get a better view of your face.

He timed it perfectly right when you finished your 5th (or was it 6th?) drink, asking, “You got anyone waitin’ up for you at home?”

“No, Sir.” You blushed, happy with the subtext to his question.

“What do ya say you come home with me for a nightcap then, sweetness? Hm?” He brushed your cheek with his thumb and it took concentration to stay upright on your barstool and not melt into a puddle under his touch.

“Y-Yeah.” You stuttered, taking a deep breath as nerves hit despite having known all along the night was leading up to this point.

“I’m just a few blocks away, won’t take us long, beautiful.”

As you stepped out of the still crowded bar into the night air, you felt the alcohol dizzying you more. You stumbled slightly and Joel’s strong arms found their way around your waist, steadying you but then remaining there longer than necessary to guide you down the street, holding you close to his side.

You found yourself giggling at his jokes like a love-struck schoolgirl, constantly bashful under the compliments and affections that rolled off his tongue so naturally. He was certainly a charmer, there was no doubt about that.

After walking about a block, a small breeze hit and you found yourself shivering. He jumped back from you quickly to remove his jacket and drape it over your shoulders before slinging an arm around you again.

“I’m sorry beautiful, forgot to do that sooner.”

“Joel, you certainly have this gentleman act practiced to perfection don’t you now?” You teased.

“It ain’t an act,” He chuckled. “I am a proper southern gentleman.”

“A proper gentleman would never invite a lady home the night they meet.” You joked back.

“And a proper lady wouldn’t say yes.” He raised an eyebrow at you.

You gasped, pretending to be offended before shooting back. “I never claimed to be a proper lady, Joel. Don’t feel the need to treat me like one once you get me home.”

His smirk grew to a full on grin, he seemed pleasantly surprised at the confidence with which you delivered this remark. You had surprised yourself, too. Those drinks were stronger than you thought. Or maybe you were just drunk on him.

Before long you he was leading you up to a nice home, with a perfectly laid path, a well-tended lawn, and a sturdy wrap-around porch. You should have known, Joel was no boy leading you back to a crumby apartment, he was all man.

He fumbled with the keys in the darkness and got the door open after a few seconds, turning a light on and you took in the space. A fairly large open-plan layout, homey decor, family photos on the walls. You noticed lots of photos of a young teenager, a daughter? He hadn’t mentioned it. He followed your gaze and interrupted your thoughts, “Yeah, thats… That’s my daughter, Sarah.”

Your eyes must have widened in surprise and he reassured you, “She’s not here. She’s at my mother’s. And her mother, well… I ain’t seen her for over ten years.”

“O-Oh.” You stuttered, frowning. “I wasn’t- I.”

“No, it’s alright.” He scratched the back of his neck and chuckled awkwardly. “I just usually don’t lead with the fact I’m a single dad. Puts some women off.”

“It would take a good bit more than that to put me off you, Joel.” You stepped towards him, closing the gap between you, and he exhaled in relief.

“You need that nightcap, sweetheart?” He asked, voice low and breathless.

You shook your head slightly and he quickly acted, putting a hand under your chin, tilting your lips up towards his and connecting you in a kiss. It was sweet and gentle for a good few seconds before he reached up and removed his jacket from your shoulders, throwing it onto the kitchen island beside you and deepening the kiss, flicking his tongue against your lips. You opened your mouth and one of his hands held you by the back of the head, the other making its way to your waist.

He pushed you softly, leading you backwards down a corridor, breaking the hungry kiss only a few times to get the lights as you traveled through the house. Your hands explored his broad shoulders, his muscular chest, and his defined back. You wondered what he did for work. You imagined it had to be something physical for his body to be in such good shape, plus he seemed the type.

He reached out to open a door behind you and guided you in, kicking it closed again behind the two of you. He continued to guide you backwards until your legs hit against the foot of the bed and you sat down. He remained standing, his hand cupping your jaw and tilting it upwards to keep eye contact. His eyes were dark with lust and the sight of him above you like this was enough to make you squirm, pressing your thighs together, although the short dress you wore meant there was no friction between your legs to relieve the tension you felt. He smirked, watching you.

“Pretty dress.” He remarked, reaching behind you to unzip it. You reached up to him simultaneously, working at the buttons on his flannel shirt. As you undid them, it revealed tanned skin, a strong chest and core that wasn’t perfectly chiseled, rather he was clearly muscular but still soft. Dark hair trailed from his lower stomach into his jeans and you frantically tried to unbuckle his belt as he slipped the straps of your dress down your shoulders.

You were breathing heavily, the house was silent except for a clock ticking and the bed creaking with every moment.

His fingers toyed with the skirt of your dress and you reached down to grasp the hem, taking the initiative and pulling it over your head, leaving you in a white matching lingerie set. You thanked yourself for your choice of underwear despite it genuinely not having been your intention to put it on display tonight.

“Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He breathed, leaning his head down to kiss you again. You blushed and threw your head back, and he continued to kiss, your throat, your collarbones, and the curve of your cleavage peaking out of your lace bra.

He unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his legs. His erect cock, pressing against his boxers, was level with your face. You made a concentrated effort not to open your mouth involuntarily at the sight. He must have caught the hungry expression in your eyes as he chuckled, “Patience, sweetheart.”

He discarded the jeans on the floor followed by his socks and pushed you until you lay back on his comfortable bed. As you breathed deeply you inhaled his rich musky scent that surrounded you. His mouth found its way to your neck again, peppering it with open mouthed kisses and applying light suction now and then. You rubbed your thighs together again, desperate for attention on the aching that grew in intensity between your legs. He was in tune with your body, noticing this and spreading them with a large, warm hand.

He pressed on you lightly through your underwear, cupping you and squeezing gently. You moaned a little and you could hear him exhale a breath of amusement. He liked the effect he was having on you.

You were fairly experienced but something about this handsome stranger had you writhing under him like a touch-starved virgin. This powerful, commanding, and dominant partner in bed was something you were yet to experience and you knew Joel would provide it.

He put a hand into your underwear and his fingers slipped through your wet folds. He let out a sigh at the sensation, “You’re soaked for me, gorgeous.”

You whined and lightly thrusted your hips up, grinding into his touch. This earned you a chuckle from him. Your eagerness turned him on like nothing else.

His exploration of you was painstakingly slow and you couldn’t help but plead “J-Joel.”

He obliged immediately, thrusting two fingers inside your wet hole. You moaned instantly at the sensation you had been waiting for.

“Y-Yes.” You gasped, and he picked up his speed, thrusting his fingers in and out of you, curling and scissoring inside of you to hit every spot of your tight walls.

“Oh, god. Yes, god, Oh m-“

“That’s not my name, baby.”

Joel and his one liners. You giggled but were quickly cut off into a gasping mess when he began hammering his fingers inside you at speed, inserting a 3rd one too. You felt his large erection pressing into you and felt grateful he wasn’t rushing through the foreplay.

“Will you let me taste you, baby?” He groaned quietly into your ear.

You released a strangled moan, utterly turned on by his request. It felt intimate for a one-night stand but you found yourself nodding eagerly, keen to please him and let him take whatever he likes from your body.

He quickly moves downwards, hooking a finger into each side of your panties and dragging them down your hips. Freeing them from your legs, and reaching up above your head, tucking them safely under the pillow.

He spreads your legs apart with two strong hands and you gasp in anticipation as he closes in on you, connecting his lips to your clit, softly sucking, kissing, dragging his tongue through your folds down to your leaking entrance and back up again to repeat. His stubble and moustache rubbed pleasantly against you, tickling you as he worked at you with his mouth.

After a while, he added his hand, intensifying the sensations he was giving you. He curled his fingers lazily inside of you, slowly torturing your sensitive insides and not reducing any of the attention he was giving your clit, continuing to flick his tongue against it violently, strong hands forcing your hips down to keep still on the bed where your body was naturally writhing and grinding up against him.

As he continued, your string of helpless moans increased in volume and became less words and more garbled curses and sounds.

“Oh, Joel.” A strangled moan left you and he hummed back in response, sending a vibration through your clit where his mouth was attached to you, making you shudder and gasp. The intensity of the pleasure he was giving you had tears welling in the corner of your eyes.

His prowess allowed him to sense when your orgasm was coming when you did, gripping the curls at the back of his head and pulling him closer to you- if that was possible.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?”

You nodded enthusiastically, panting his name and as he increased the pressure on your clit, sucking slightly harder and fucking you with his fingers slightly faster, you felt your orgasm building, hot ropes of tension in your stomach, and down each limb.

After a few more seconds you snapped, practically screaming his name. He slowed down his fingers but didn’t stop as he licked wide stripes up and down your entire pussy as if he was cleaning you up. You shivered as the overstimulation was sending you crazy, his stubble tickling you and giving you goosebumps on your thighs.

“Please,” You begged him, pushing his head away slightly. You looked down at him through hazy eyes and saw something erotic; the sight of his mouth and moustache glistening wet with your juices, and him looking back up at you grinning like a devil.

You had never slept with a man who had prioritised your pleasure in this way, making you orgasm before you had even touched him. This was intoxicating, and you felt as though what should have been a simple one night stand with Joel may lead to you becoming hooked on him.

As your sensitive parts took time to recover, he was slipping out of his boxers. A large and hard erection stood up , slapping his lower stomach and leaking pre-cum from its pinkish red tip. Your jaw dropped at the size.

“Close that mouth sugar before I fill it up.” He growled.

The gentleman act was over. As you had requested, Joel wasn’t going to treat you like a lady in the sheets. Your eyes still widened in surprise and you saw him smirk at the effect his words had on you.

“You ready to take this cock, hm?” He asked, grasping it and dragging the tip through your wet folds, circling your clit before taking it back down to nudge at your entrance.

You nodded and pushed your hips up towards him but this earned you a light slap on your upper thigh. “Uhuh,” He scolded. “Use your words, darlin’. Tell me what you want.”

You moaned as he slowly tortured you by continuing to grind the head of his hard cock against you, giving you pleasurable friction but nothing close to what you desired which was his cock buried deep inside you.

“Please, Joel.” You begged in an erotic tone that you were surprised to hear coming from yourself. It practically sounded fake and exaggerated the way you were panting and pleading for him. “Need you to fuck me Joel need you to fill me up, please, ah-”

He cut off your speech by pressing the tip into your entrance slowly, earning a gasp from you. It hadn’t even been that long since you last got laid but his sheer size would take some getting used to.

“Good girl. Thank you for asking so politely.” He continued to push into you, his own breathing faltering as he did so.

You moaned loudly at the sensation of his wide cock spreading you open, stretching your tight hole around him. “Please, Joel.”

“Jesus christ baby girl,” he groaned. “I’d give you the world if you asked like that.”

You pulled him close to you by wrapping your hands around his back and the back of his neck, kissing him messily as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you. It was a welcome sensation but the aching inside of you was craving more. You wiggled your hips against his to increase the tension and he chuckled.

“So greedy.” He taunted, slapping your breast lightly with a hand he has been using to toy with your nipple.

He gave in to your silent demands, increasing the force of his thrusts, and you moaned loudly every time he bottomed out, reaching the perfect spot inside you and stretching you out so pleasurably. His hands came down to wrap around your hips and, gently at first, he pulled you towards himself in sync with each thrust. This earned louder moans from you, and your expressions as he watched you from above could have made him spill inside you right then and there. You were absolutely gorgeous and the tortured but positively blissed out look on your face as he had his way with you was awakening a primal level of desire inside him.

“Play with those tits for me, gorgeous.” He asked, and you reached out both hands to cup each tit, pinching your nipples between your thumb and forefinger, rolling them. Pushing your tits together and moaning, biting your lip and releasing strangled moans as he fucked you at a relentless pace.

You were certainly a performer, he noted, whilst he was in control here, there was nothing passive about your role, putting on an erotic display for his eyes only. A thought intruded into his mind that he tried hard to push away- I never want any other man to see her like this again.

He pulled out unexpectedly and you looked up at him questioningly, but he quickly answered by grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your front, dragging your body up so you were on your hands and knees. So, he would play dirty. You wiggled your ass for him in anticipation and he groaned at the sight, grasping one cheek hard with his large hand.

He guided his cock into you and wasted no time slamming himself fully in. This angle helped you appreciate his size and was hitting something impossibly deep within you. He set an aggressive pace that had you nearly screaming, and you struggled to keep yourself upright and steady on your hands. Your back arched and his view was perfect of your tanned skin, light tanlines visible on your lower back.

He grunted loudly, the sounds of both of you vocalising, skin slapping, and the bed creaking violently, filled the once silent house.

“I can’t get enough of you, baby.” He praised. You couldn’t respond, intense pleasure rendering you speechless, only able to produce strings of moans.

“I’m gonna come,” He announced, his thrusts remained forceful but his rhythm faltered and with a grunt he pulled out. Your pussy clenched, the feeling of emptiness with the absence of his cock was unwelcome.

With a few strokes of his fist, you heard him groan loudly as he released a warm load of his cum onto your ass and lower back. He stayed still for a moment, catching his breath as well as appreciating the sight of you beneath him, covered in his seed. He let out a loud sigh and you felt him move away from his position behind and eventually, felt the weight on the mattress shift as he stood up. He proceeded to open a door and came out with tissues and a wet towel, cleaning you off with both. You allowed yourself to relax into the intimate moment, the weight of you sinking into the comfortable mattress as he took care of you.

He reached up under the pillow, grabbing your underwear where he had stashed it before and gently lifting your legs to guide it back up your body. He crawled into the bed too, pulling the covers from beneath you and tucking you both in.

“I’d like you to stay.” He whispered into the space between you.

You hummed. He seemed so genuine, it wasn’t an offer he was giving out of obligation, or an I guess you can stay if you have to- Joel was open and honest and told you what he wanted.

“And I’d like it if you would give me your number.” He added.

You nuzzled your face closer into his chest, feeling comforted by his strong, warm body.

“I was afraid you’d never ask.” You muttered, kissing his neck softly as he tightened his grip around you, holding you close to him.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #tlou show #tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfic #tlou smut #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal smut #the last of us smut #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction

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drabblesandimagines · 1 year

Text

Rubber Duck

Pairings: Sebastian x Reader

Wordcount: 1195

Sebastian had said he’d come round for a movie tonight but it was now past 7pm and he was yet to materialize. You had rang but it had gone straight to voicemail – he was pretty bad at charging the thing. Maybe he was asleep? You thought about ringing the house phone, but you knew that would involve Robyn going downstairs and Sebastian felt self-conscious about that, so you settled on walking over to his house.

It was summer, so the evening was light enough for you to take the back route to his house in under ten minutes, rather than going through town and definitely getting waylaid with everyone else you'd no doubt bump into on a summer's eve. You also thought in case he was now rushing over to yours, you’d at least collide.

As you approached the house, you saw your boyfriend leaning up against a tree out of eyesight of any windows – deep in thought as he puffed away at a cigarette. It was the one thing you didn’t like, but he was working on cutting down at least.

“Hey, good-lookin’!” You called when you got close enough, startling the black-haired man. He blushed – god, you loved when he got all flustered – and he bent down and retrieved the soup can from the trunk that he used to stash used cigarette butts. Although he would joke about it, really the last thing he wanted to do was burn down the place.

“Y/N, hey…” he smiled shyly, pulling you forward for a kiss. He’d also switched to menthol cigarettes after you’d confessed you hated having to wait for him to have a mint or brush his teeth to kiss him after he’d partook. “Where are you off to?”

“Did you forget?” You frowned.

He stared blankly at you for a moment before cursing. “I’m so sorry, is that tonight? I completely forgot. Ugh, I’m such an idiot…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you interrupted, taking hold of his hand. “It’s fine, the evening’s still young. What’s got you so worked up anyway? I tried calling but your phone was off too.”

“I can’t get this piece of the module working. I’ve spent all day on it and it’s still not doing what I want it to. I’m meant to have it in tomorrow morning. I’m really sorry, I’m gonna have to cancel on you and spend the rest of the night trying to work it out. I only came out here to see if a smoke break would reset my mind.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m a terrible boyfriend.”

“Only I’m the judge of that, and I disagree. Please, how many times have I cancelled our plans for a farm emergency? Remember when I made you spend the whole evening finding the chickens? A terrible boyfriend would never."

You were meant to head into Zuzu City for the evening on his motorcycle, but when he’d arrived to pick you up he’d found you in a complete panic. Something had spooked the chickens and a few had failed to return home. You couldn’t bear for them to spend a night out in the open and the result was you and him trawling Cindersap Forest in the pitch black tracking them down, eventually collapsing in bed at 3am after safely returning them to the coop.

“How could I refuse when you were sobbing about being a terrible chicken mama?” He jabbed you in the side, teasingly.

“Chicken Protective Services would’ve been right on me!” You chuckled at your own joke. “Can I help in any way? I’m no coder, of course, but…”

“Thanks, but it’s okay. I’d ask you to come in but trust me, it’ll be boring and I’ll just be muttering angrily to myself about why the stupid thing doesn’t work.”

An idea suddenly popped into your head. Back in the dark days of working in the Joja Corporation offices, you’d overheard a couple of the developers chatting at the water cooler as they filled up their cups in the 2.5 minute hydration “break” you were allowed. One had been grumbling to another about some of his code not working. “Gotta rubber duck it, man!”

“Oh, please,” the other sighed. “No-one really does that.”

“They do, and it works.” He stressed in reply, before they headed back towards their computers.

Upon return to your desk, you’d quickly pulled up a web search for “rubber duck coding” and read an article about the so-called rubber duck theory, where programmers would read aloud code, or the process of which, to a non-judgmental rubber duck and, more often than not, the error would reveal itself.

“Well, what if I’m your rubber duck?”

He raised an eyebrow at that.

“I mean, I heard about this thing years ago – rubber duck theory?”

“Oh…” He smiled. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”

“Well, I can be your rubber duck! I know about as much about coding as a rubber duck does, but I could smile back…? At least give it a go,” you pleaded, grabbing hold of his hand and squeezing. “I hate to see you so frustrated.”

“It’s worth a shot, I guess… I’ve tried everything else. Only if you're sure - you’re gonna be so bored, Y/N.”

“I don’t know, you listen to me ramble about farm stuff all the time. Plus, I’m never bored when there’s such a cutie to look at.” Sebastian’s face flushed pink once again.

“See, that’s gotta stop. Rubber ducks do not flirt.”

“Maybe I’m a themed rubber duck, they have those, you know?”

He grabbed hold of your hand and started pulling you up towards his house, “No, I’m pretty sure this theory only works with a standard rubber duck.”

“Ugh, fine. I promise to be a normal, stoic rubber duck.” You held up your free hand in an oath as your boyfriend unlocked the front door and led you down towards his bedroom.

It took a couple of hours but you stayed true to you word and only smiled, with the occasional nod as Sebastian took you through all the code, explaining what he was trying to achieve in complete layman terms - briefly explaining arguments, algorithms, arrays, functions, variables – until he paused mid-sentence and scrolled back a couple of lines.

“Ugh, it’s right there!” He typed furiously, explaining what had gone wrong. You really hoped he wouldn’t ask you to reiterate the problem because it had gone right over your head at the speed he’d explained it… After a moment, he enthusiastically hit enter, running the module and beamed.

“There – finally! Ugh, that’s a relief. Thanks, sweetheart.” He got up and sat next to you on the bed and leant in for a kiss which you happily accepted, before pulling back after a moment, a curious look upon your face.

“What?” He frowned.

“Just thinking about that if rubber ducks don’t flirt, how can they kiss?” You pondered.

Sebastian rolled his eyes before patting you on the head. “Good rubber duck.”

“No… I’ve changed my mind. I think I’m ready to go back to my human life.” And you pinned him down on the bed in a passionate kiss.

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