#chip taylor smut

[gubsbuubs]

The Sign

Pairing: Chip Taylor x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3.5K

Warnings: Drinking, fluffly smut, creampie.

Summary: As Chip sought an escape from his troubles, a vibrant bar sign beckoned to him. Intrigued, he stepped inside, not knowing what the night had in store for him.

Preview: “Will you let me take care of you, Chip?” I ask in the sweetest tone, my voice laced with desire as his eyes met mine.“Please be gentle with me,” he begged with a pout.

A/N: I love Chip so much, just wanna hold him in my arms.

I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒

MASTERLIST

The bar had settled into a quiet hum, with a scattering of regulars lounging at their usual spots, half-engaged in a random game flickering on the TV. I seized the opportunity to clean up the sticky residue left behind by a night of beer spills and colorful cocktails, wiping down the counter with rhythmic precision.

A gentle ding echoed through the air as the entrance door swung open, announcing the arrival of a new customer. He took a seat on a stool, keeping his gaze fixed downward. The words spilled out in a wearied tone: "Give me some Jack on the Rocks, please."

Responding to the request, I pivoted towards the top shelf, snagging Jack Daniels. With the clink of ice cubes, I poured a generous amount, recognizing from his demeanor that he could use it.

“There you go," I offered, sliding the drink across the freshly cleaned surface.

Only then that he lifted his head.

His eyes, a rich shade of brown, were captivating yet carried an air of melancholy and fatigue. As they met mine, I couldn't help but notice the subtle weariness etched into his features. A slightly busted lip hinted at a rough patch he might have navigated recently.

The man, who had just walked into the bar, possessed a unique kind of beauty. His eyes, reminiscent of warm mahogany, held stories untold beneath their gaze. The strong bone structure framed a face that seemed to wear the weight of experiences, and his soft and pink lips betrayed a vulnerability hidden behind a worn exterior. In his presence, there was an intriguing blend of strength and fragility—a captivating allure that set him apart in the dimly lit atmosphere of the bar.

His response, a quiet "thanks," hung in the air, leaving an air of mystery around him. Intrigue danced in the atmosphere as I observed him. There was a certain beauty in his quiet gratitude, a sense of vulnerability that added layers to the enigma before me.

His appearance struck a chord, akin to that of a lost puppy finding its way to unfamiliar territory. Despite his undeniable beauty, there was an air of solitude, a silent plea for understanding. As he sat there, seemingly adrift in his thoughts, I couldn't help but feel a tug of compassion, a desire to unravel the story behind those captivating eyes.

“Rough night, hun?” I queried, hoping to ignite a bit of conversation.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he chuckled in response, his eyes briefly meeting mine before lowering again. There was a weight in his words, a heaviness that hinted at the struggles he might be carrying within.

I leaned on the counter, wanting to offer a sympathetic ear. “Well, you’re in good company. People say a bartender is like a makeshift therapist. We listen, pour drinks, and hope things get a little better.”

"I'd rather not talk about it," he said, taking a gulp of his drink.

"Oh...Yeah...that's more than okay. I'll be over there if you need anything." I spoke in a quiet voice, straightening up as if preparing to leave him to his thoughts.

Maybe he just wanted to be alone.

"Hey, no, no, no, stay. I… I´d really appreciate the company," he said, giving me the sweetest half-smile, his look softening.

 The silence embraced us for a bit, before I decided to chime in again.

“So… I’ve never seen you around here before.” I leaned in once more, offering a different approach to the conversation.

"Yeah, I'm not from around here. Just passing through"

"Yeah, I knew I didn’t recognize your face. Small town, you know,” I remarked with a grin. “Do you have a name, or are you going for the mysterious stranger vibe?”

The hearty laugh that echoed from his chest illuminated his features with a small yet captivating smile. He was undeniably attractive; his grin seemed to brighten the entire room.

“It’s Chip, Chip Taylor,” he offered, his eyes carrying a spark of amusement.

"Nice to meet you, Chip. I'm Y/n," I offered, reaching my hand across the counter for a handshake. His grip was firm, yet his touch remained gentle, and the warmth in his hands felt inviting.

"Well, well, Mr. Taylor, what brings you to this little slice of paradise?" I asked as I poured a drink for myself.

He chuckled. "Honestly, I don't even know. I just got in the car and drove. When I saw the sign, I decided to come in.”

I jokingly said, "Guess the universe knew it; you needed a sign—literally."

We both laughed, and he agreed, "Well, I guess signs do work in mysterious ways."

“So, are you planning to stay for a couple of days, or is this just a one-night stop?" I inquired.

"Honestly, I don't even know. I didn't plan anything," he responded with a shrug, a hint of uncertainty in his expression.

"Sounds like someone will be sleeping in their car tonight," I joked, a playful smile accompanying my words.

"Well, it might just come to that. But who knows?" he said, offering me a smile as he took another sip of his drink.

As the night progressed, Chip and I found ourselves engrossed in conversation, our words flowing effortlessly. He proved to be easygoing and open, making the dialogue naturally enjoyable. Through our exchange, I learned that beneath the busted-out exterior, Chip was genuinely a sweet guy.

Sadly, it became evident that a girl had definitely made a number on his pretty little head, and from what I could gather, that seemed to have left him with a sense of being lost and lonely, undeserving of love.

As Chip shared tales about his ex-girlfriend, Liza, was her name, it was pretty clear that he had experienced a whirlwind of emotions. The warmth and kindness he exuded clashed sharply with the pain inflicted by someone he had once cared deeply for. Each word seemed to carry the weight of a past filled with unsuspecting toxicity.

Listening to him, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness for this beautiful soul who had been blindsided by the harsh realities of his last relationship. His genuine belief in love and commitment made the way she treated him more repulsive. I wondered how someone could overlook the treasure that Chip was—someone who radiated sweetness and cared for others with a sincere heart.

Yet, despite the wounds he carried, Chip maintained a certain innocence in his recounting. It was as if he couldn't fathom the depths of the toxicity until it consumed him. My heart ached for him, and I found myself wanting to shield this gentle soul from further harm.

As the other customers gradually left, Chip willingly joined me in tidying up the tables and washing the remaining cups. Amid laughter and shared stories, we closed the bar together, his presence a comforting company that made the tasks feel lighter.

"It might be your lucky day, Taylor," I told him as I watched him close the metal guards at the front.

"How so?" He asked in a gentle tone as he rose to his feet.

"Well, you helped me a lot tonight, and I just feel like I should return the favor. So, how about you crash at my place?" I offered; it was the least I could do for him. “It’s that one, right across the street.”

"Oh, Y/N, no way. I don't want to step into your space like that." He held his hands up as if unsure about accepting the invitation.

I grabbed his arm as I started to walk to my house. "Hey, it's okay, I insist. I bet my couch, although very old, is still more comfortable than your car." I laughed.

I noticed a hesitant yet grateful smile forming on his lips, a silent acceptance of the offer.

“Come on, Chip, you can even take a shower and change into some spare clothes I have lying around.”

“They’re my brother's. He has some spares at my house for when he stays here to help me out with the bar,” I offered a small explanation.

"And your boyfriend won’t mind me wearing his clothes?" His tone held a curious edge, a playful note that suggested a mix of light-hearted banter and genuine interest. There was a subtle spark in his eyes, as if he was testing the waters, teasing to see my reaction.

"His clothes or not, you're letting a stranger stay at your house. I bet he won't like it." He was now fidgeting with his fingers as he waited for me to open the door.

“Chip,” I laughed at his awkwardness, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

As we stepped into the house, I motioned for Chip to get comfortable.

“Can I get you anything?” I offered it in a sweet tone.

"I'm good, thank you,"

I grabbed some spare clothes for him. While he freshened up in the main bathroom, I decided to take a quick shower in my room.

Half-expecting to find him already asleep as I approached the living room, the soft glow of the lamp revealed Chip, not asleep but comfortably seated on the couch, engrossed isome random show playing on tv.

"You clean up nicely. Feeling better?" I asked.

Dressed in a white shirt and comfortable sweats, he seemed at ease.

As I studied his demeanor, it was evident that the stress had lifted off his shoulders. His posture became more relaxed, and the subtle lines of tension that had etched themselves across his face seemed to ease He exuded a sense of calm and peace, looking remarkably beautiful on my sofa. His lip, no longer marred with dried blood, revealed a gentler man, and the earlier signs of roughness had disappeared. He looked not just good, but like he belonged here.

Chip looked up with a soft smile on his lips.

"Much better, thanks to you," he replied.

“Anytime,” I said, returning his smile. “So, do you usually end up in random towns, or is this a first?”

He chuckled. “Well, it’s not a regular occurrence, but life has its surprises. Sometimes you just go with the flow.”

“Must make for some interesting stories,” I commented, settling onto the couch.

“You have no idea,” he said with a playful glint in his eyes.

As our conversation meandered through the night, Chip’s gaze softened, and a more vulnerable side emerged. He fidgeted with the edge of his shirt, his eyes occasionally dropping to his hands.

“You know...” he hesitated, “Meeting you, it’s been a bright spot in a bit of a rough patch.”

I smiled, sensing a genuine sincerity in his words. “I’m glad our paths crossed,” I admitted.

He sighed, a mixture of nervousness and contemplation in the air. “Can I be honest?” Chip looked up, meeting my eyes with a touch of uncertainty.

“Of course,” I encouraged, curious about the turn in our conversation.

He shifted on the couch and said, “I wasn’t expecting to feel this… comfortable. It’s like I’ve known you longer than just tonight.”

The vulnerability in his expression tugged at my heart. “Sometimes, connections happen unexpectedly,” I replied, choosing my words carefully.

Chip nodded, his eyes reflecting gratitude. “Maybe it’s the universe giving me a sign.”

There was a subtle shift in the air, an unspoken understanding between us. As I met his gaze, I noticed a hint of longing, a desire for connection that went beyond words.

He hesitated, then, with a shy smile, he said, “Would it be too forward if I said I’d really like to kiss you right now?”

I felt a warmth spreading within, appreciating his honesty. “Not too forward at all,” I admitted, mirroring his smile.

He inched his way to my face, his nose touching mine. I could feel his breath, smelling of the whiskey I had poured him earlier. His lips brushed over mine as if seeking confirmation, and in that moment, I leaned in, and our kiss began. It was soft, filled with affection, a gentle exploration of each other's feelings.

I brought my hands to his face, cupping it delicately. My fingers played with the soft hairs on the back of his neck. The kiss deepened slightly, each movement a synchronized dance of two souls finding solace in each other's company.

With a mild pull, we found ourselves sinking into the sofa, our lips meeting again in a sweet and unhurried kiss. The room seemed to fade away as we lost ourselves in the intoxicating warmth of the moment. Soft sighs and the light rustle of fabric became a symphony to my ears.

As our kisses deepened, the desire for closeness grew. Chip shifted his weight as he continued to savor the connection that seemed to deepen with each passing second. His hands traced gentle patterns on my back and sides.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against my cheek.

"Chip, you have no idea how beautiful you are," I replied, my fingers gently tracing the contours of his face. "You’re so sweet and kind; you deserve nothing but love.” My eyes met his; his lips were open, but no words came out, so I continued, “I want to treat you right, the way you should have been treated before."

He looked at me with a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. "I... I've never had someone say something like that to me."

My hand gently tugged at his neck as I whispered, "She didn't deserve you, Chip. Every little second she spent with you, she didn't deserve it."

He breathed in deeply, and I felt his Adam's apple bobbing under my fingertips as he looked up at me with his big brown eyes.

"Why are you being so good to me?"

In that quiet space right before our lips met again, you could practically feel the tension in the air. It was like this magnetic pull, and I swear, you could almost hear our hearts beating in sync.I could feel the gentle touch of his fingers, a feather-light caress that traced the contours of my face, leaving a trail of tingling sensations. The room was dim, but it felt like everything was glowing. You know those moments when time kinda stops? Yeah, it was one of those. I could sense his breath mixing with mine, and there was this unspoken language passing between our eyes. It was all anticipation, a sweet torture, and then, in a heartbeat, our lips crashed back together.

Our bodies synced in a rhythmic dance, his hips gently pressing into mine. The sensation of his hardness against the warmth between my thighs was like a wildfire spreading through me, making my toes curl in sweet response.

His hands explored the curves of my body, tracing a path that sent shivers down my spine. The touch was electric, making my breath catch in the midst of pleasure. Our mouths collided in a passionate exchange, each kiss leaving us both breathless and wanting more. His lips migrated from mine to my neck, leaving a trail of sweet kisses in their wake. Meanwhile, his hands found a comfortable spot on my hips, gently pulling me closer to him. The squeeze was tender, yet firm.

I guided him backward onto the couch, settling myself on his lap. Leaning in, I pressed soft kisses along his neck, the taste of his skin driving my desire. Running my teeth lightly against it, I elicited a quiet moan from him. Leaning further, our lips met in a fiery kiss, passion igniting between us. The world faded away as I lost myself in the intensity of the moment, our connection deepening with every shared breath and every stolen kiss.

“You’re driving me insane, Y/N," he whispered in my ear as his hands met my hips to guide me as I grinned on his fully hard but still covered dick.

“I’ve barely even started,” I chuckled as I placed small kisses on his collarbone. He responded with a sharp inhale, laying his head back and grinding his hips up to meet mine.

“Will you let me take care of you, Chip?” I ask in the sweetest tone, my voice laced with desire as his eyes met mine.

“Please be gentle with me,” he begged with a pout.

Those pretty brown eyes begging me were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and it made me grow even hotter than before. I responded with a soft smile, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek and lowering myself on the ground in front of him.

“Y/n, you don't have to," but there was a subtle hint of hope in his eyes, secretly wishing I wouldn’t stop what I was doing. And so I didn't. As my hands laid flat on his thighs, I looked at him and said, "But I want to."

The whimper he let out was delicious, clearly growing desperate as my hands worked the string of his sweats. He raised his hips a little so I could help him out of them, freeing him completely.

“Baby... your cock is so pretty,” I told him with a sweet smile.

“Humm.. is it?” He asked in a quiet moan, with uncertainty coaxing his voice.

“Humm..humm” I placed a soft kiss on the tip. “The prettiest.” I then slowly started to kitten-lick before taking him into my mouth as my right hand started to move.

As his head fell back, his hand met the back of my neck. He couldn’t contain himself as he moaned loudly. Fuck, this man was vocal, and his soft moans and whimpers were making me wetter than ever before.

As I sucked on his cock, his hand pulled on my hair, guiding me however he saw fit. Suddenly, he pulled me up. "Please stop, or I’m going to cum," he moaned, his body shuddering with pleasure. “I want to be inside of you.”

Now was my turn to moan at his words; he sounded so sincere, like he longed for it.

As I rose from the ground, I took my pants off and motined for him to also take the rest of his clothes off.

I held a twinkle in my eyes as I suggested, “You want to help me out, pretty boy?”

He immediately lunged forward, grabbing my ass and pulling me close to his mouth. His open-mouth kisses on my stomach sent fireworks of pleasure through my body, and I felt as if every nerve in my body had lit up with desire.

His fingers grazed my sides as he hooked them on the fabric of my panties, pulling them down.

He then took my shirt off before pulling me into his lap once again.

I reached between us, taking his dick in my hand and lining it up with my entrance. As I sank down, he captured my lips once again, moaning in my mouth at the sensation of him filling me up.

“Fuck Chip, you feel so good, so big inside of me,” I said, looking into his eyes. He almost melted, his lips half open, letting a sweet moan escape.

“You’re so warm, Y/N, so tight." He hissed as I stared to move. "Fuck,” he moaned in a high-pitched tone.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?”

“Oh my god...” He cried, “So good.”

"I bet Liza never made you feel this good," I teased, kissing his neck softly.

"Never," he moaned, his body shivering with pleasure.

"Yeah, I bet she's nowhere near as good as me at making you feel good," I said, biting his neck hard enough to leave a mark.

"There's nothing that could ever compare to this," he moaned, his hands wrapped around me and his entire body tense with pleasure.

As I moved up and down, I felt his hands travel along my body, sending me a shiver of pleasure. His breath quickened, and his whimpers became more incoherent with each movement.

“Y/n.. y/n I ca..” He tried to speak, but the sentences seemed hard to form.

“What is it, baby boy?” I asked as I grabbed his chin, making him keep his eyes on mine.

"I need to..." He sounded desperate, and my walls squeezed at his neediness.

"Oh, baby,” I moaned. “Am I fucking you so good you can't even hold a conversation?”

He quickly nodded his head in affirmation.

Oh, what a sight! He looked so worked up, and his eyes begged me to not stop my movements as his dick hit my cervix.

“Can I please..." He tried to form the full sentence, but a moan inturremped him. I could feel the fires of passion burning inside me with each stroke, his cock twitching, yearning for release.

He breath in deeply “Can I please cum inside”.

“Yes baby” I moaned “Please cum for me” I held him close as I rode our shared climax. The felling of his load spilling into me made me feel full.

As I reclined on the couch, Chip nestled himself between my legs, his head finding a restful spot on my chest. Despite lingering fatigue, his demeanor shifted to one of contentment and tranquility. With gentle strokes, I caressed his head, feeling the softness of his hair.

"Well, that was unexpected,” he spoke, breaking the moment with a light-hearted chuckle.

I laughed, “The best things usually are.”

Chip’s gaze softened, and he looked at me with a mix of gratitude and realization. “You know, YN, I never thought I could feel so much love from someone. It’s… it’s different.”

I smiled, appreciating the sincerity in his words. “Different can be a beautiful thing. You know? The ordinary becomes extraordinary in the company of the right person.”

Chip sighed contentedly, his eyes drifting closed. "Well, I think I found the right person tonight."

And with those words, he succumbed to the embrace of slumber, the room filled with the soft sounds of a peaceful night.

#chip taylor #chip taylor smut #chip taylor x reader #chip taylor fluff #mgg #spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg x y/n #mgg fanfiction #mgg smut #spencer reid x reader #68 kill #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut

[de4dlyniightshade]

Slutty Chip headcanons?? (Slutty Chip sounds like his name haaa)

already done some here! but here's some more!

loves fucking you missionary with his head buried in your neck and arms wrapped around you.

cockwarming!!! loves to bury his cock in you in the morning and just spoon with you and kiss your shoulders until he's falling asleep again.

kisses! so many kisses all the time.

morning sex!!! every morning if you let him.

contrary to the movie(fuck you liza)he does not like it rough, he prefers deep and meaningful rather than fast and erratic, just gets the job done better and faster in his case.

very sensitive, like everywhere, not just his cock(but especially his cock), so he's very ticklish and reactive, even your fingertips barely brushing his ribs makes him squirm. h

on the same lines, very sensitive nipples but will never ever admit that he likes when you touch them.

sweetest boy ever like will do literally anything for you, especially in the bedroom, he loves nothing more than to make you feel good.

munchiest munch to ever munch and is sooo messy with it like slobbering all over you until it's soaking the sheets kinda messy.

tells you he loves you while you do it.

very high sex drive. but is always really shy to tell you bcs he always expects you to be like "we just fucked???" even though you've never turned him down. 

i already said this but car sex!!! that car is too gorgeous not to fuck in it.

#📬 maeve's mailbox! #68 kill #chip taylor #68 kill smut #chip taylor smut #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #dr spencer reid #mgg #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut

[matthew-gray-gubler-lover]

masterlist

chip taylor life after the kill

spencer reid undying love

Matthew gray gubler

Matthew gray gubler island of paradise

sex with Spencer Reid all 15 seasons 

Spencer Reid As Your Boyfriend all 15 seasons

Spencer Reid Smut

Criminal Minds smut’s 

25 days of december with Matthew Gray Gubler

what kind of lovers are the men of the BAU

Spencer Reid

Spencer Reid picture-perfect.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #chip taylor #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #chip taylor smut #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler fluff #matthew gray gubler smut

[spencers-gun]

mgg as chip taylor (68 kill 2017) will forever be on my mind

#68 kill #chip taylor #matthew gray gubler #mgg #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #criminal minds #hes so babygirl #my man my man my man

[chloelucia13]

MGG Characters Masterlist (discontinued)

✴ = angst︱❁ = fluff︱✿ = smut︱✂ = trigger warning (listed in warnings)

Spencer Reid

To Dream ✴ ❁ ✂

Series

The Rain Saga: Spencer Reid x reader (completed)

- Chapter 1: A Sweet Rain ❁

- Chapter 2: Made of Storms: ✴

- Chapter 3: Eye of the Hurricane ✴ ✂

- Chapter 4: Flash Flood ✴ ✂

-Chapter 5: Downpour ✴

Chip Taylor

- Night Shift ❁ 

#Matthew gray gubler #mgg #masterlist #Spencer reid #criminal minds #Spencer Reid x reader #chip Taylor x reader #angst #fluff #smut #68 kill #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic #fan fiction #reader insert

[dreamcubed]

i don't wanna live forever | mattheo riddle x reader

song; i don't wanna live forever [taylor swift, zayn] pairing; mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw!reader genre; ex2l, reconciliation, ex-lovers, angst, smut, hurt comfort(ish) word count; 2,8k timeline; half-blood prince  warnings; swearing, toxic relationship, jealousy, controlling behaviour, mattheo is not a good person, neither is y/n, borderline cheating (not on y/n or mattheo), smoking, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, arguments, drunk sex, piv, fingering, degradation, ass-slapping summary; ever since you began dating, you and mattheo had been a fiery and toxic mess of breaking up and getting back together - only, when you finally try and date someone else, you realise that you miss and crave the unhealthy pattern that came with mattheo riddle

MINORS DNI! 18+ content.

i don't typically write smut but this oneshot felt incomplete without it. so, enjoy... 2 year anniversary & 1k celebration gift haha

masterlist

"wondering if i dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life."

——————————————

"I mean, why did you even date him in the first place?" Cho asked you, chewing on a chip, "He's literally You-Know-Who's son."

You sighed, used to this conversation from every person you knew, "You can't judge someone by their parents."

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"Cho, his dad went MIA for thirteen years when he was one and his mum was in prison until last year. He hardly knows them."

"But," she said, "He was raised by the Malfoys and he was sorted into Slytherin."

You rolled your eyes.

She shrugged, "I'm just saying, the red flags were there."

You didn't reply, moving your gaze over to the group of Slytherin boys sat laughing with each other while they ate. Your ex-boyfriend, Mattheo Riddle, was sat among them.

It felt too definitive saying ex, however, since you two broke up and made up constantly, and had for the last year and a half, much to your friends' horror. You argued with him, you cried over him, you talked shit about him - but you loved him. And the love you had was a burning flame of passion, but it wasn't healthy. You had broken up a week ago, which was actually the longest you had gone without talking.

Normally, you would have caved by now, but you felt different this time. You felt immensely stubborn.

"It's time you stayed apart for good," Cho said, just as Mattheo's eyes locked on to yours, "He's bad for you."

You knew she was right, which was why you accepted when a nice Hufflepuff boy asked you to Hosmeade that weekend.

***

The bouquet of pink and red flowers being presented to you really should have given you butterflies, maybe even made you squeal, but they horrified you. Nonetheless, you smiled and said, "Awh, thank you. You shouldn't have," before taking Leon's extended arm and letting him lead you to the Three Broomsticks. He pulled the chair out for you, and you forced another smile on to your face.

"I've been wanting to ask you out for ages," he said excitedly, "But you were still on and off with Riddle."

You hummed.

"I'm glad you're done with him. He didn't treat you right."

It was mutual. You were just as toxic as Mattheo.

"But I will."

"Well, thank you, Leon," you said gently, "We'll see, won't we?"

He beamed at you, "You're so beautiful."

Surely such a comment should make you blush, right?

***

"How was the date?" Cho wiggled her eyebrows back in the Ravenclaw dormitories.

"It was... good," you said, placing the flowers on your desk haphazardly.

"Just good?"

"He's really nice, I- I just..."

Cho frowned, "He's boring?"

You shook your head, "No, he's funny and interesting."

"Then what's the issue?"

You shrugged, "I don't know."

"Give him a chance then, babe."

***

Leon wrote you poems, he took you on cute dates, he fed you, he walked you to classes, and he hung off your every word. But your eyes would always linger over to Mattheo - because despite everything Leon did for you, the only time you felt butterflies anymore was when you made eye contact with your ex-boyfriend. That glittery spark had never once burnt out in those long eighteen months you were on and off. Every argument and break up only seemed to make it burn stronger and brighter.

And the thing was, Leon was too healthy for you: too sane, too trusting, too normal. Mattheo had turned you into a raging jealous monster, as you had him, and it was part of the reason you were on and off. Neither of you had ever actually cheated, but if you got too close to a boy? He would start an argument and scream at you until you yelled back that you were over. Two days later, he would corner you, never truly apologising but kissing and making up, muttering how he loved you before fucking you until the sun came up.

And you had done the same thing to him.

That was the issue with Leon: he was friends with everyone. Some of his closest friends were girls. Were you jealous? No. But you knew if you began to develop feelings for him then you would become more jealous than an innocent boy like him could handle. You would ruin him the way Mattheo ruined you, fucking him up for any future romantic endeavours.

It drove you crazy how respectful he was, how he didn't bat an eye at you saying you were going to study with a male friend. You needed more push and pull than what he was giving you: you craved a fight, because you craved the crazed passion that came with it.

Yet, three weeks passed by and Mattheo had made no effort to do anything more than glare daggers at you and Leon from across the room.

Then the Christmas holidays hit.

***

A rich Hufflepuff in your year - not Leon - was hosting a house party at their gigantic home, and you had scored an invite. In fact, so had everyone in your year, including a few people from the year above and year below. Leon had immediately owled you to say that he would pick you up before heading there, but you knew that as you patted on concealer and highlight, you were thinking about Mattheo's reaction when he saw you. He had hated when you dressed too revealing, saying that he could see guys' eyes on you - and he wasn't wrong, you just didn't care.

You had purposefully dressed yourself in a tiny black miniskirt and matching bralette, which as a combination left very little to the imagination. With the fishnets you adorned as well, it was borderline lingerie.

Maybe Leon would finally argue with you and make you feel something.

"Y/N, you look gorgeous," he beamed, not a trace of anger on his perfect face when you opened the door to him.

"Thank you," you said, fighting the urge to sigh, "You don't look so shabby yourself."

"Shall we?" he held out his hand to you, which you accepted.

***

The party was already in full swing when you arrived, and you made a quick motion to catch up by downing two shots. Leon watched you in amazement.

"You want one?" you asked, going to pour another drink.

He shook his head, "I don't drink."

"No?" you paused in your movements, thinking that maybe this would be the time you finally argued, "I drink a lot."

"Each to their own," he shrugged, "I'll look out for you."

"Thanks, then," you said awkwardly, "I'm gonna go for a smoke, you coming?" Had you partially said that as another attempt at angering him? Yes. But you also were craving nicotine.

He shook his head, "I'm good, we'll catch up in a bit, yeah?"

You nodded absently, pouring a third shot for yourself before creating a mixed drink and heading outside to the smokers' area. And, there he was, Mattheo Riddle stood with a cigarette between his lips and a drink in his hand.

Pulling out a cigarette that you had tucked in your bralette, you boldly walked up to the group of Slytherin boys and asked, "Anyone got a light?"

Nott, who was right next you, passed you his, but you never took your eyes off Mattheo. His eyes glided up and down your exposed body as you lit your cigarette and took a long drag, relishing in the taste. You watched his jaw clench.

"You and Duggard official yet?" Berkshire asked, referring to Leon. At his question, a borderline growl erupted from Mattheo.

You shrugged vaguely, "We'll see."

"Will you?" Mattheo asked coldly.

You exhaled some smoke, "Well, he's handsome, smart, funny and attentive to my every need."

"Oh, is he?" Mattheo stepped closer to you.

Chuckling, you said, "He's a very kind man."

Mattheo scoffed, pushing past you with a mutter of, "That's not what you need."

He was right, of course, but he didn't need to know that.

You turned your focus to your cigarette.

"He's not the same without you," Nott said casually, dropping his finished cigarette on the ground and stepping on it.

"No?" you murmured, a smile tugging on your lips.

"He hardly sleeps, hardly eats, is angry all the time," he continued, "So, please, stop your little charade with Duggard and get back with him already."

"Who says it's a charade?"

You heard Berkshire scoff, "C'mon, L/N, everyone sees you stare at Matt all the time. Everyone except Duggard, that is."

Biting your lip, you ashed your cigarette, "Well, maybe Riddle should man up and apologise."

***

The party raged on, and as the alcohol flowed through your system, so did the music. Leon didn't seem that keen on the party atmosphere, so you resorted to dancing with Cho and other Ravenclaw girls. That was until you felt a guy come up behind you and begin dancing with you.

You turned around to see a Gryffindor boy from the year above, and he wasn't half-bad looking, so in your drunken state you allowed it to happen. Cho gave you a sceptical look, but didn't intervene.

A hand tugged on your wrist, and you looked up to see Leon.

"Can we talk?" he mouthed, and you nodded absently, following him to the quieter room that was the kitchen.

"What?" you said a little harshly.

"I'd appreciate if you wouldn't dance with other guys," he said, his tone completely without malice.

Your instinct in these situations was to get aggravated, so you snapped, "Well, if you actually knew how to party, I wouldn't have to."

Leon stared at you blankly, "I'm sorry."

For fuck's sake, why did he have to sound so genuine?

"I'll try and come out on the dancefloor if that's what you want."

"Fucking hell," you cursed.

"What? What is it?" he sounded worried.

"Why don't you argue with me?" you exasperated, tugging at your scalp.

Leon frowned, "That's no way to resolve things."

"It's not about resolving things," you snapped, "It's about passion, it's about the spark, it's- it's..." you trailed off, "Rowena, I feel crazy."

"I understand your relationship with Riddle wasn't the easiest one, but I want to help you learn what a calm and healthy relationship is," Leon said gently, "Because you deserve better."

"Are you even listening to me?" you pulled your hands down your face, "I don't want peace. I want passion. I want twin flame bruises. I want a push and pull."

"I-"

You cut him off, "Mattheo would have beat the shit out of that guy for dancing with me."

"That guy probably didn't know you were taken-"

"Mattheo made sure that everybody knew I was his," you said firmly, feeling tears prick at your eyes, "I just need to argue, Leon - I crave it."

"Well, I can't give that to you."

"Y/N," a voice spoke in a growl behind you.

You span around, being faced with the one man who could make you feel electric. And that was when your emotions crashed all over you: upset and anger expressed through tears and yelling.

"Why are you taking so fucking long?" you screamed.

But he wasn't looking at you - no, he was glaring at Leon. "I think you've had long enough with my girl, Duggard," he drawled.

"She's not your girl anymore," you heard Leon reply, before he said to you, "What did you mean when you asked him why he's taking so long?"

You saw Mattheo clench his fist, and you grabbed his wrist to halt him, "Fucking talk to me, Riddle."

His eyes snapped to yours, "I will never be Riddle to you, princess."

"Considering we've hardly spoken the last few weeks, I'd say you are."

"Guess I'll have to remind you who you are to me, then," he chuckled darkly, pulling you away from Leon. The Hufflepuff boy went to follow you worriedly, but you glared at him and he stayed put. Part of you felt bad: a tiny, sober part.

You found yourself in an upstairs bathroom, pressed against a cool tile wall.

"If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I can't promise I'll be a good person about it."

"You're never a good person about anything," you muttered, relishing in his hot breath fanning on to your face.

He smirked, "We both know that's the way you like me."

You hummed, "Fuck me, Mattheo."

"I'm not sure you deserve a good fuck after everything you've done."

"I never fucked him."

"No?" he chuckled, "Good."

And then his lips were on yours, tasting, sucking, nibbling every centimetre. His hand quickly trailed to underneath your skirt, rubbing your clit through your scandalously thin panties.

He pulled away from the kiss, "Don't ever wear anything like this again," he kissed you again, "At least not in public."

"Whatever you want."

He hummed his approval, pushing your panties aside to push two fingers inside of you.

"Please, I just want your dick."

"Yeah?" he murmured, "How bad?"

"So bad, please," you begged, your tear and mascara stained cheeks enhancing the puppy dog eyes you gave him. Mattheo had to admit, he loved seeing you so desperate for him.

"You really don't deserve this," he sighed, unzipping his trousers.

You licked your lips as you watched him pull his rock hard dick out.

"I can't wait to feel your mouth on it again," he muttered, "But I'm feeling nice, so I'll just give you what you want."

Mattheo bent you over the sink countertop, lifting up your skirt and slapping your ass in the process. He pulled your panties further aside.

"Don't act like you don't just miss being inside me," you forced out, making him slap your ass harder.

To your surprise, he said, "Of course I fucking did."

And then he pushed inside you, quickly and without warning, causing you to gasp loudly.

"So fucking wet."

You arched your ass up to him, moaning.

"I don't think I'm gonna last long."

You were hardly able to reply, as he had begun to run circles on your clit as well. But, you agreed with him, as the absence of this feeling had made your body hypersensitive to Mattheo's every touch.

"Fuck, you're such a whore," he murmured, picking up the pace relentlessly.

"Your whore," you managed to say, your eyes rolling back into your head as you felt your orgasm build up.

"I bloody well hope so," he chuckled.

And then, as you both came closer to ecstasy, things went silent - the only noise being his groans, your moans, and the sound of skin slapping.

"Matty, I'm gonna co- fuck!" you cursed, feeling your release wash over you in red hot passion, your vision going white as your every limb shook. You didn't normally orgasm so easily.

He continued to fuck your overstimulated pussy, gripping your hips so hard it would probably leave bruises. "Gonna fill you up," he choked out, his breathing growing heavier as you finally felt his dick throb inside you, signifying his release.

Mattheo stilled, staying inside you for a moment as you both processed the situation. Eventually, he pulled out, helping you turn over so you were sat on the counter facing him. You were both panting.

"I'm sorry," he said eventually, and your eyes widened.

He had never outright apologised before.

"I'm sorry too," you mumbled back.

"I love you so much," he pressed his forehead against yours, "I just I-"

"I love you too. So much."

He hummed, "I just- I don't understand my father. I don't want to live forever."

You frowned, "Why not?"

"Because," he took your hands in his, "Without you, I'd just be living in vain."

A smile stretched widely on your face, "Want to leave this stupid party?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

And as you left the party, hand in hand and evidently in a post-sex haze, Mattheo said - loud enough for a few close people to hear - "I'm gonna marry you, you know that?"

And you did.

———————————————

masterlist

written; 25/02/2024 —> 09/03/2024 published; 09/03/2024 edited; —/—/——

#harry potter #hp oneshot #hp #hp fanfic #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fanfic #angst #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheo smut #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle smut #slytherin boys #smut #exes to lovers #ravenclaw reader #feminine pronouns

[millerscoffee]

dancing is a dangerous game | part one

you're a bandit like me, eyes full of stars.

5.5k | joel miller x f!reader

masterlist

rating: 18+ MDNI

tw: brief mentions of using your body for trading purposes, you shoot at joel miller????, light dub-con but that goes away quickly

warnings: post-outbreak au. no ellie. angsty smut, semi-dom!reader and dom!joel so that's fun, power struggle, age gap (joel is 56, reader is late 20s or early 30s), enemies to lovers, voyeurism (f watching m), masturbation (m and f), pet names/degrading names (baby, honey, darlin', brat, bitch, slut, etc.), dirty talk, choking, oral (m receiving), fingering, spanking, p in v (unprotected - wrap it up folks), joel is mean but not unkind. no use of y/n.

summary: inspired by "cowboy by me" by our lord and savior taylor swift. this is a post-outbreak world and joel has his own land. think bill, but a little less... deranged. kind of. you essentially are a raider, but make it fashion. when you stalk joel's cabin for the third day, that's when you get interrogated by none other than joel miller himself.

A/N: hi, i'm bee! this is my first fic on tumblr, and my first stab at this whole stratosphere. longtime listener; first time caller 💅. i was ALSO inspired by an ask i saw on @swiftispunk's page (hi! i love your writing sm??) and kinda just... ran with it. i honestly wasn't anticipating writing stuff during the outbreak, so i apologise if it's not quite right. imagine me living during that time with a tube of lipgloss and one (1) bullet in my pocket just in case. this... may be a series. i don't know yet. see ya! enjoy!!!

The first time you meet Joel Miller is down the barrel of your gun.

You can hear your father's voice telling you 'Back out, girl. Don't get too big for your britches.' Look where that got him. His ashes against your chest in a makeshift pendant necklace, buried by your clothes.

Still, you listen.

"It don't have to be like this," you drawl with index over the trigger guard. You've heard of him. Joel Miller. He's notorious, and even though you've kept to yourself most of your life, his name still roamed throughout the abandoned towns you passed. Someone always owed him, and he always owed somebody.

Your dad would've been older than him, but not by much. You knew of the world before this, was just a little thing. Still, you heard stories undulate from your father's southern voice that mostly left you bored on long days searching for food or shelter. You'd give anything to hear them now.

Part of you died when he did.

You were young when the outbreak happened. Resourceful, your father made it work in raising you. Taught you how to fend for yourself, rely on no one. Which was no easy feat considering how unbelievably stubborn you were. Were? Are.

Maybe he loved you. Maybe it was the chip on his shoulder. The kind of anguish that comes from not being able to give your mother the same kind of life. A promise to her.

Yes, you were young when the outbreak happened, but flashbacks of her getting attacked by a clicker burn you alive at night.

"Y'er on my land." A gruff voice calls you back to reality. Few words for someone who held your life in his hands. His own gun pointing back at you. Of course it would be.

"I was just passin' through." The lie flies through your teeth. You had been circling the place from a reasonable distance for a few days now. Scoping out when this man in front of you was his busiest, when he patrolled, when he slept. This was a heist situation, no doubt about it.

"Bullshit. This s'the third fuckin' time I seen you 'round here. And it's y'er last."

Shit. Fucking shit.

Your eyes dart to the side, really trying to pattern a plan in escaping but your breathing would say otherwise as calm and collected as it was.

In any other situation, you wouldn't be so willing to comply, but considering he's got you cornered and his gun is quite literally cocked and ready to go – you're not exactly in the position to make hasty decisions.

Goddammit if there wasn't something about him that made you nervous.

"Listen. Just was lookin' for somewhere to sleep. It's fuckin' cold and your stables look warm." Your head tilts in the direction of a lone horse's home in a bed of hay, and you're not fully lying. It's not that you have set up camp by any means, but you've noticed.

"We could trade. You give me y'er ammo, and I g–"

"You give me your cock, I get it. You really could be more original." You were used to this. Bartering, some might call it. Living out here on your own was dangerous, and running into men who wanted to use your body in order to get supplies wasn't that uncommon. If they were that kind, even. You'd heard the horror stories.

Albeit, most of these men met your gun in the end. Enabling you acquire their supplies, keep all yours, and your dignity. Win/win.

"...I give you the pleasure of livin' another day. Really? Y'think it's that easy?"

There was something in the way Joel says this that makes you grateful for the jacket you're wearing. Goosebumps prickle your skin, bile creeping up your throat and you will it back down again. Y'think it's that easy? As if he thought you wanted it.

If circumstances were different, you'd be rubbing the crimson off your cheeks. Flashing him a sheepish grin in an attempt to resolve whatever misunderstanding there was... but this wasn't the environment to elicit such conversation.

And you weren't that type of person to begin with.

Instead, your index sweeps from guard to trigger when you fire off at his leg. Hasty decisions be damned. You're quicker than him, so why're you tryin' to save him? You're a 'shoot to kill' type of person, and as the bullet grazes past his calf – part of you wishes you had.

Because not only did your bullet not make contact, Joel gets worse. You two lock eyes. His rifle is thrown over his shoulder as he grunts and walks perfectly fine over to you – despite the way his eyebrows knit together, jaw ticked. Was that a grin? Do something, anything – run.

Joel grips the nape of your neck, and you yelp in surprise.

Who the fuck does this man think he is?

His large hand eclipses your wrist as he maneuvers the gun from your hand. The action makes you writhe in pain, and it sends a shiver down your spine to know he's only using an ounce of his power.

You dig your elbow into his ribs despite him stronger than you. Stomping, kicking, punching anything you can find.

"What the fu–"

"Little girl, you picked the wrong one." His breath edges at the shell of your ear, and every sign should be pointing for you to hate this, but it almost feels familiar. Like yourself. It's only then when you worry.

---

You don't realise it, but Joel is pushing you inside his cabin. Keeping your head in direction of the ground, thud of the door heard somewhere behind you.

"You want to be treated like a big girl? Get these fuckin' pants off."

"What... what? No I'm fuckin' not–"

Joel chews up the space between you when he pushes you to the nearest wall. Your back at his chest, a cheek flush against the cabin's support.

Pine, tobacco, and whiskey fill your senses and you bite back the urge to whimper. He wouldn't see you like that.

"You're not? That why you were watchin' me jerk off last night? 'Cuz you don't wanna give it up?"

That alone makes blood creep up your neck and spill over your cheeks. You have to squeeze your legs together to quell the ache.

It was lonely on your own.

Most nights were spent half asleep on a cold, hard surface. Tired and hungry more days than not. You don't remember the last time you got a hot meal, much less been touched. So when you heard Joel's low grunts coming from the window (a window from a cabin you don't know quite yet that he built with his own hands) you become intrigued.

It's in this moment you're certain it must have been the rustling of branches just outside his room. You remember it happening last night, cursing to yourself for making noise. His fist stalled around the girth of his fat cock before spilling his seed over his stomach. As if that is what caused him to come.

It makes sense now, and it equally causes you to become dizzy and filled with rage. You bite your bottom lip, unable to think of a response.

"Mouthy thing ain't got much to say now. Now c'mon. I ain't taking these off you, doin' it y'erself." More of a warning, Joel lets up on his grip on you, but you're defenseless. No weapons, no pack. He's got your world in his hands.

With the newly found space between the two of you, you turn around – back of your head against the wall as your eyes find the other set for, perhaps, the first time. And they're deep. Deeper than you were aware of. Dark, impossibly round. Wrinkles reside on the sides of them, and if you knew any better, you wouldn't admit they were doing something to you.

But not only are you stubborn, you're too forthright to beat around the bush.

"I shot at you, and you want my cunt? You must be lonelier than I a–"

"Now."

Your words don't match your actions as your hands fall by your sides. Fingers play with zipper of your old, faded jeans that have seen better days.

You can't help but snicker an awkward laugh from how he's just watching you. Insecurities rise when you realise you're not laughing at him, but more his eyes on you. How intense it feels suddenly. He wants this. Wants you.

His eyes draw impatiently, broad frame leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed.

"Ain't got all day. Still considerin' your death."

His arms. Bulging through the fabric of his shirt, his body was built in a way that you could tell he worked with his hands... maybe in his past life, too. Throat dry, you shimmy out of your pants until you're left in your cotton panties.

Ones that you are becoming more aware the condition of. A small pool of wetness forming at the core of you clings to the fabric.

"Top, too."

Is that? It is. Your eyes wander down to see the growing bulge in Joel's pants. Not even the hem of his flannel could hide it. Sure, you'd seen it in its full form the night before, but that was with distance and without the heat rising between the two of you.

You bite your lip without hesitation, pulling the layers of jacket and a handful of tops onto the ground until you're bare. The cool air passes over your nipples and wills them into stiff peaks.

"Ain't you somethin', baby."

That's the first time Joel Miller draws a shaky exhale out of you. All from a single sentence.

When Joel steps over to you, that calm and collected breath is nowhere to be found. Your chest rises and falls at a random pattern, feeling more and more naked by the second as his clothes are completely kept on his body. A purposeful tactic.

He bends down to collect your clothes along with everything else that yours, and you are truly at his will. So busy on the precipice of pleasure that you don't even think about trying to get away.

"Stay."

"Ain't a dog." You glare, standing with your legs brushing together.

"Then quit actin' like a bitch. And quit movin', I'm gettin' to you."

It shuts you up quick, jaw snapping shut. You're certain if he told that to anyone else they'd be reduced to tears, but you can take it. It coils a heat inside the pit of your stomach that you've never felt. Causes your clit to feel as if it's on fire from the need to touch it.

Joel turns on his heel to walk away and it's as if you're able to breathe fresh air from the humidity he brings. You notice he's putting your things and his rifle away on his kitchen counter before coming back to you. He must really trust his ability to keep everything out like that.

Then again, have you even moved in the last five minutes?

The last thing he is, is worried.

You're able to look around, if only for a moment. Though, is it really looking? Your adrenaline is pumping, pupils blown from the fact that not only are you in the house you'd been stalking... you're about to fuck the man in it. And you almost tried to kill him. You definitely didn't miss on purpose. Couldn't have.

All the same, the cabin was nice, and you could take in briefly the light wood – old and weathered. A record player in the corner beside a guitar. This stuff could get you a lot in return, but for whatever reason that doesn't even cross your mind. Maybe your heart beating in your ears is a handy distraction to keep you walking the line.

Your eyes track the rugged man instead.

---

"Here's how this is gonna go," he announces, coming back to you and not phased that you haven't moved a muscle. "You are gonna take your ass over there on the couch. You're gonna make me come, then you're gonna go. Understand?"

"Well... I guess it is that easy."

Your bratty mouth getting you in trouble again. As if you're in the position to say anything. Naked as you are.

---

Joel's jaw ticks forward in a way that makes you feel fear, yet there's a direct correlation between it and the slick gathering between your folds. The same wide hand that gripped the nape of your neck wraps around the front of your throat while he pushes you against the wall, and your shoulders slump – all but folding instantly.

His mouth is inches from yours, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

"Listen here. I've been real kind to you. Coulda killed ya day one, tryin' to steal my shit like that. Was gonna be real kind in where I fucked ya, too. Now we're gonna fix that mouth a'yours and fast. Knees. Now." You soon come to know this isn't a suggestion. It's not even a warning. It is what's happening.

It's in the way Joel's hands guide you down onto your knees. He goes for his belt and you hear and see that distinct clang of metal untangle before your very senses. Your mouth waters instantly, teetering into fully giving into this struggle of power.

Joel's hands are calloused. You can tell he takes care of them, but that doesn't hide the wear and tear. Specifically on his fingertips. They grip your jaw roughly, and you choke back a moan as your mouth hangs open pliantly from this. Every nerve ending buzzing to be touched.

"Where'd that bratty girl go, huh? You done bein' big and bad – wanna be a slut, don’tcha?"

Your eyelash splay along your cheeks as you nod, and you feel his grip tighten, tugging your chin up higher.

"Look at me. You want this cock? I need your words. Tell me you wanna be a slut."

You're not sure when it happens, but hot tears run down your cheeks as everything comes to a head. Your body is trembling with raw desire right at your fingertips, just within reach. You can't hold back anymore, it physically hurts to.

"I wanna be a slut for this cock... please."

"Fuck, even a please. Oughta eat you out for that, sugar. Maybe next time."

Your brain is swimming at the thought. Next time?

With his free hand, Joel sets his cock free from his jeans, giving a satisfying smack to his abdomen quickly. No need for another piece of fabric keeping him from getting what he wants as you soon take note he isn't wearing boxers.

There's no denying what you're met with as you get to view it from this close. Joel Miller has a pretty cock. There's a soft, but bulging vein on the underside to match how big and thick it is. The rosy tip greets you, and it's the first time you get to see how much you've turned him on.

Your mouth is drooling while it's pried open and meets the tip of him. A moan from you is instantaneous, yet feels so distant from yourself, it doesn't affect you until much later. The taste of his precum coats your tongue as he slips past your lips and it's all you can experience. Your moans slip in and out of the sloshing sounds of your mouth. Keeping your hands by your sides, you don't tempt to touch him in fear he would pull away, so instead you twirl your tongue around his leaking head. Bob your head up and down in a slow, but sultry rhythm that causes him curse under his breath. He's not stoic above you, he's reacting.

He's clawing for every last bit of the upper hand.

"S'a lot, innit, babygirl? That's alright, you can take it." It's then you can sense Joel's guard slipping. Could be the fact that your mouth is suctioned perfectly around the length of his cock, but his voice gets damn sweeter the longer you go like this. His hips also have no problem in thrusting shallowly every now and then to knock the drool off of your dripping chin.

Even if you could form a thought, you don't know you would.

His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling it out of your face as you maintain eye contact. Intuitive in your approach, he told you to look at him earlier, so maybe he likes it? The groans filling the room lead you to believe you are correct. It feels so removed from who you were moments before: snickering because his gaze felt intimidating. Now, his pupils are blown as they pour into yours and his neck hangs back when your mouth makes those pretty, sloppy popping noises – testing your gag reflexes as you will them to relax.

It's way more intimate than anything you've ever done with anyone you've ever been with, and this stranger is pulling it out of you. Within the mess your brain is in, you remind yourself if you want to stop you can, and not a bit of you does.

The hot tears that were once down your cheeks swell in your eyes once more, but this time from the sheer size of him. You moan vibration after vibration against him, shifting and pushing your cunt against your calf, thigh – anything to feel some sort of friction.

He lets out a growl when he notices you, "Honey, if it's that bad, touch yourself." If your cheeks weren't red before, they are now.

It's him calling you out, slight embarrassingly, but not letting up with his hips. It's the way the embarrassment builds the fire in the pit of your belly. It's your hand pushing inside your panties at the sound of his command. And it's you practically choking on his cock from the gasp you let out through your nose – stunned at how wet you are.

Your fingertips barely brush over your clit when you notice the slick collecting, bubbling right at the very top of your slit and slutty moans fall out of you. Your eyelids droop as you try to keep your gaze up to Joel, but the way your fingertips roll over the hood of your clit in satisfying circles sends you over the edge way quicker than you anticipate.

"Shit, baby. Just like that. You filthy thing, can't hold off another minute longer, can ya? Need it right fuckin' now."

The sound of Joel's deep voice looms overhead as you come completely undone.

Unable to stop yourself, the suction on his cock pops free for a moment. Your moans hitting the air as your eyes roll back. Your body rushing to find each wave of pleasure roll off your back. Joel's cock still nestled in your mouth, but his hips still. "Goddamn, look at that little slut come out. Such a needy fuckin' kitten."

When Joel makes sure you've ridden it out, he pulls his cock from your mouth. Your body feels weak despite how eager your mind is now, face-to-face with Joel's cock, you watch as his scarred hand glides your saliva over his length entirely. It puts you in a trance, quickly getting out of it when he taps his cock against your cheek. "Pretty kitten want this? C'mon."

If your moans felt foreign to you, you don't even know what to do with yourself at the twinge of a grin that spreads on your face. The sheer audacity of his taps right against your fucking cheek. Orgasm-drunk, you shuffle to your feet and Joel has no problem in tossing you – finally – to the couch.

Your back is to him while the front of your body brackets the width of his couch, arms hunched over the back of it, knees dig into the cushions. You're grateful for the lack of eye contact in this position as it gives you a moment to press your face into your bicep, an attempt to collect yourself. But all of it obsolete when you sense Joel's presence at your ass.

His body heat unmistakable to miss. You bite at your own skin, neck craning to behind you to watch him.

"Shit, darlin', look at you. Ass up like this like y'er in fuckin' heat for me." You whine at the fact his clothes are still mostly on, and you know he must be sweating underneath them, but he won't give it to you like that. Not yet, 'maybe next time'. "You know I can't go any further 'til you get a spankin'. Need to be punished for tryin' to hurt me like that. For tryin' to take my things. Ain't right. Need you to learn your lesson."

Where are you? A part of you knows this is a tactic. That Joel is lulling you into a position you can't say no to. It already shows itself in how you're splayed on his couch. Yet, you can't find the person you were before you stepped into the cabin. Not yet, not like this. You nod weakly, and Joel swipes the cotton undies down to your thighs so quickly the rush of air cools the heat of your folds. A flutter runs through you.

"Count. To ten. If you don't, we start over. Say, yes sir."

"Y-yes... sir. Yes sir."

A searing, mind-numbing spank wallops over your ass and it causes your hips to jut forward. Whimper hitting the top of your throat, you almost, almost, forget to count. Everything in your senses distracting you from completing the simplest tasks such as fucking counting.

"O-one." Another. "Twooo." And again. "Th-three!"

You start sniffling by the third smack of his wide hand, and you hear mocking sniffs behind your head. "Aww, pretty baby can't take the hurt she tries to give to others? That must be really tough. Y'heart's bleedin' all over my couch, honey."

Your cheeks burn, you really feel sorry for what you've done. Or at least, what you were planning to do.

The next spank leaves a welt of Joel's handprint across your skin. "FOUR!" Your body begins to feel weak, sliding against the couch, you know talking back is useless as you silent tears stream into your arm.

There are six more blinding slaps to your ass by the time he's done with you, and you feel him pull back when he's through. You imagine him wringing his palms, the roughness of them. You begin to wonder if that's how they got to be so weathered, and pretend not to be weirded out by the ache of jealousy.

"Y'know for somebody whinin' the whole time, your pussy is just droolin' from that," any narrative you wandered off with disappears in its replacement of Joel's fingers gathering slick between your folds. No announcement, just go. It was just within reach, feeling him inside you. You ride the shudder your body makes, licking your lips as you realise the unspoken rule is free and you can speak. "N-need it. Need your cock, please... please." "Need it, and you don't even know my name?" His index and middle finger waste no time in pressing into your aching core. Sounds of your wailing mix with his words as he lurches over, lip close to your ear. "Or maybe you do already."

"Please, please, please," your fingertips grip for the worn fabric of his couch while your hips that try to jut back are quickly halted by his other palm, a strong stopper at the base of your spine. "Not 'til you tell me my name." "I-I don't know. I don't know it, I swear." Joel's thick fingers slip completely out of you and you mewl pathetically, pussy clenching around nothing and he can see every last detail of it behind you. "Last fuckin' time, better tell me the truth." "It's Joel," you cry, hips pushing back against the resistance as much as possible. Anything to be filled again. "Joel. Joel. Joel. I was... I was– I don't know anybody. Not with anybody, I swear! Joel, I swear. Please! Just grew up hearin' your name. I swear on my life, Joel, please! I know I lied, didn't think you'd believe me."

You don't know why you're begging like your life depends on it, but your pleasure surely does, and there's a longer pause than you want lingering behind you. As if you can palpably feel Joel contemplating whether you're being truthful or not. But if there's one thing about you, aside from this moment in this compromising position: you don't answer to anybody.

Joel's cock bottoming out inside of you at the drop of a hat is confirmation enough that he believes you.

And you not only wail, but scream at the stretch and irresistible contact that punches you straight to your gut – right where you can feel the tip of him. Half-moon prints dig into your hips by his short fingernails when he grabs ahold of you and you're on your forearms, head hanging between your shoulders. Your panties keep your thighs straying too far apart if there is such a thing.

"This what you wanted when you watched me?" Joel grips your torso now, pulling you closer to him as you become more upright, his cock more accessible to the spongy spot inside of you and your nipples stand erect, eyes rolling back as it takes all of you not to rest your head back against his shoulder, and you fail. Hard. Your occiput makes contact with his shoulder. Joel brushes your hair back to the side, lips graze but never fully touches the column of your neck. "Thought about this tight cunt last night. Left the window open on purpose, but you knew that already, didn't you, pretty girl? Clever little thing and so fuckin' dirty."

Joel's hand snakes around the front of you, spreading your folds as he dives his fingers over your glossed-over clit your wetness claimed and that sends a whine off of your depraved lips. "That's it, honey. Show me what this cock does to ya. Makes you downright brainless from how well you take it." While his skilled fingers, toy with your clit, the other set of digits graze over your breasts on their way up to your mouth. You take them inside the warmth of your wet mouth easily, rolling your tongue over the digits until you can only focus on the white hot pleasure beginning to boil over. You keep his fingers between your teeth, a faint realisation that you can taste yourself on them. That's what does it.

His hips are relentless as they pound into you, the repetitious slaps of his skin against yours, of his balls tapping your cunt again and again sends you into a place that he knows you're approaching when you tighten and pulse.

"Y'know how tight and wet you feel around me, darlin'? Never had a fuckin' cunt like this. Let it out, let it out, just like you wanna. Just like you did last night around your fingers. Nothin' like this cock though, and you know it now, don't you? Oh, fuck yeah– thaaat's it. Look at you." "Joel... Joel!!!" Joel talks you through it, sending your body diving off the cliff that is your second orgasm. The undeniable gush of your fluids around his cock. His name stays stuck at the your tongue, the constant thud of it vibrates your lungs.

It starts at the attention on your clit. The raw bundle of nerves send signals outward as it spreads down your legs, up your stomach, to your nipples and down your spine. Your brain feels effervescent, toes curl, and it comes back again right to your heart. Your beating heart, wild, and every moan, whimper, scream that comes from you sounds like it is from someone else's chest. But it's yours, and you know that when you start to feel hazy, unable to hold yourself up anymore.

"Good for my cock after all. Ain't ya, baby? Shit."

Your torso leans forward while your cheek rests on the top of your hand that's gripped on Joel's couch, and your body is relaxed and fucked. Comfortably silent, just the way Joel would want you. His cock slips out of you, unable to stop the slew of grunts and groans that acts as an anchor to keep you from slipping under. You lick your lips, looking back at him with a nod, unable to stay silent for long. That struggle of power coming back for vengeance. "That's right. Come all over this ass you ruined. See those handprints? Dirty fucking man, you just met me. Show me how much you enjoyed doing that."

That's as far as you get when you feel the heavy streams of his hot, white come rope over your skin, and for someone who is no position to be smug, you sure do have a shit-eating grin on your face. Pure, and the simplest thing the two of you accomplish.

Joel shakes his head, shallow breaths become him as he staggers back and you pretend not to notice. "Gonna kill me, kid."

"Almost did."

---

You don't know why, but neither of you hold the promise of you leaving right away. You linger, both of you half naked and spent. You take your time cleaning yourself off, slipping your clothes back on. Day becoming night.

You tiptoe into the living room where Joel is unfurled on his couch. His eyes are closed, the back of his head inches away from where the two of you just had sex.

Planning your goodbye, you sit at the edge of the couch cushion, knowing he wasn't really asleep. Just restin' his eyes.

"I am sorry...," you finally say into the dimly lit room, pangs of annoyance fizz at your tongue for even apologising. For shooting him, for trying to steal from him. All of it.

It's not his fault. It's just how you are.

This is dichotomous in relation to your eyes. They're bleary when a yawn pulls deep from within you. As if rest had been climbing up to the surface this entire time.

"Maybe you should be apologisin' 'bout your shitty aim. Could teach you a thing or two." Joel's eyes remained closed, arms crossed. If you could let yourself experience this, you would notice how soft he looks in this moment. Instead, your stomach is recoils in fight or flight.

You're glad he can't see you swallow the knot in your throat.

There was no magical solution for your life, and a part of you wishes you hadn't chosen his cabin to raid. You wish you hadn't met him, because now you could feel yourself want to notice the small things in him. Already.

You felt it dangerous to let anything that close to you.

You scoff to play it off, giving his chest a light shove and very accidentally getting lost in the light landscape of hairs that resides at the top of his flannel. "I could teach you a thing or two." A pathetic response for a pathetically spent human.

"We could both teach each other," he resigns and you're grateful he doesn't point out your lack of wit for how worn out he's made you. Perhaps the smugness settles in the things he doesn't say. Really, it's in what Joel spouts off next that throws you upside down.

"S'why you should stay. One month. That's it."

"Excuse me?"

"Didn't stuttered," your eyes roll and somehow, despite Joel's own being shut, he tuts his teeth. "Don't roll your eyes at me, little girl. You need a place to sleep. Besides, I could use an extra set of hands. Way I see it, best offer you've had in a while. Got a shelf life, though. Don't like to wait."

A part of you is suspicious, and if this man didn't make sure you orgasmed twice, you would suspect yourself to be dead within a matter of minutes.

There's something true about him, though. You're unwilling to look at it directly, but you trust him.

"Fine."

"Gonna need clearer confirmation, darlin'. Really need you to want this if you're gonna stay with me." He knew exactly where to press.

"Fuck, I shoulda killed you when I had the chance. I want to stay with you. One month." You try to ignore the grit between your teeth as speak, but your shoulders eventually soften. And you really do mean it. It's just... you're hardened from years of misplaced trust.

Your hand goes to the pendant around your neck subconsciously.

Joel either doesn't notice, or gives you the space.

You're grateful either way.

"That's that, then."

If anyone could understand the concept, it's Joel.

"That's that."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #tlou fic #by bee #dancing is a dangerous game

[blkmorticia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝟐 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. AARON TAYLOR JOHNSON X BLACK!READER

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. In which Aaron finds his obsession for y/n goes deeper than he thought.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 16560 (yes. you read that correctly.)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. Dark!ATJ + Panty Kink + Mentions Of Infidelity + Age Gap + Smut + Possessive Religious Man!

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. Thank you for the amazing notes and reblogs from previous chapter. It really means a lot. I want to thank you guys with chapter two so I hope y’all enjoyed this! :3

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑. Any nasty comments will be deleted and blocked! If you are a minor do not interact with this post at all.

1

“They tested God in their heart by demanding the food they craved.” –Psalm 78:18

“Honey, I'm home!” Sam yells out.

The sound of the garage door opening awakens him from his depressing dilemma.

His brows wrinkle in confusion. He moans distastefully. He forgot his wife had went out and came back with groceries. Aaron stood up— groaning, regretting a knot on his back for staying in a slumped position, fixing his attire to look presentable.

Ten years.

They’ve been married for ten years. Marriage has gotten boring for him. The fire he once had for her has slowly been dying out the moment he laid eyes on y/n. Sam was nothing compared to her. His wife is too controlling. She was docile. His wife talks as if she croaks. She sounds as sweet as honey. Aaron can go on and on for hours how Sam was nothing like Y/N. Nothing like the sort of girl he wanted—no, needed.

He is greeted with his wife frantically putting things away. She doesn't notice his presence.

Aaron clears his throat and she then turns to face him. “Oh, Hi—Aaron, would you mind helping me with groceries? I have to prepare food for Michael's football night.”

Ah.

He had forgotten that tonight was the night he’d see his best friend and you. He goes ahead to help Sam, trying to get rid of his thoughts and ignoring how his cock hardens thinking about you. Michael and him have been friends for a long time when he moved into the neighborhood and their bond has been unbreakable. Church every Sunday, occasional football nights, and helping each other out with anything they need from each other. It was safe to say they had formed a brotherhood with one another.

Y/n was introduced to Aaron after a year she had come back from college. The very first time he met her, he was in awe of her beauty. Oh, so in awe. He was in love with her innocence, how she was so soft, so shy with everyone. He leans over the counter watching his wife washing dishes and a look of disgust comes onto his face. He doesn’t know how he can think like this or how he can get rid of such thoughts. God is punishing me for not being a good husband, he thinks.

“Should i make a rotel dip tonight?”, Sam asks. he doesn't catch what she says, given how much he’s thinking about y/n. He couldn't really care less about the fucking dip. All he wanted was to be in her presence and just to hear her honey-like voice again.

“Huh? Repeat that again?”

His wife turns to face him in annoyance and repeats, “Should I make rotel dip for the game night?”

He shrugs his shoulders in agreement. He barely gives a fuck about what she does. “Sure, it’s perfect for game night. We already have the chips for it.” and with that, he gives her a smile— satisfied with his answer, she goes ahead and starts preparing.

His face falls in exhaustion, dealing with a wife like her. He can’t wait to go over to y/n's house and take his mind off of Sam.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” The sound of laughter and men surrounding each other filled up the living room as their favorite team scored another point.

Aaron was grinning from ear to ear enjoying his time with his friends, however, in the back of his mind— he wanted to know where you were at. You were nowhere to be found and he felt anxious before his inner thoughts were interrupted by the very sound of your laughter, immediately threatening to make him hard.

His sweet girl.

You just arrived home with a friend. He looks unfamiliar. Aaron feels a pang of jealousy go through his heart. That young man had a decent look going on for him but Aaron knows in his heart that God blessed him with looks as well— enough for the church members to throw themselves at him—as well, yes. He knew.

The sounds around him were deafening, clenching his beer as he drank, eyeing you carefully so nobody catches him in his odd perversion. His eyes pan to his wife chatting with other people, looking at her lips and all he can think about is the croaking sounds he hopes she’d make. Crudely snickering, he excuses himself to the kitchen to get another beer.

He crouches down to open the cooler, halfway through, you walk into the kitchen. He immediately recognizes the perfume you always use. It's enough to catch his attention. He turned his head— and only his head— to see you leaning back on the wall looking at your friend with a bored look evident on your face. Aaron understands. He would rather go somewhere fun too. Somewhere forbidden. Grabbing his beer, he pops the cap open to drink, and does so quite noticeably. Your eyes fall on Aaron. You brighten up, pushing yourself from the wall and throw your arms around him for a hug.

“Mr. Johnson!”

He's taken aback by the hug. Surprised, even. His body almost jerks from the impact but he's able to relax himself. He knows he can sense his heart beating fast anxiously. He lets go (almost reluctantly), and puts a hand on your shoulders to look at you. He doesn’t want you to feel his heartbeat, thumping and getting faster as if threatening to jump out. “Y/N! Why are you guys sulking and pouting by yourself?” You jut your lips out to a pout and your friend rolls his eyes at your dramatic behavior. “it’s reallllly boring.” Aaron chuckles in response at how you dragged the word ‘really’.

“Er- are you going to introduce me to your friend or they’re better off as being mysterious?”, He teases. He loves making you laugh to make things less awkward. The mysterious guy in question looks around, sheepishly embarrassed that he is noticed by the older man.

“Oh! Mr. Johnson, this is my best friend, Fabien, and Fabien— this is my dad’s best friend, Mr. Johnson!". Both of the men shake hands. Fabien shakes Aaron's hand politely but furrows his brows, nervous that the older man returns a tighter, firm one instead.

“Nice to meet you, son. it’s not everyday I meet y/n’s friends", Aaron says, enjoying seeing the nervous look on that man’s face. That's right. He should be nervous. He’s been watching her for so long— she rarely brings friends over. This was both a foreign feeling and a motivating one. He had felt jealousy before, when knowing he couldn't have her— but motivation to have her? It was new. It was exhilarating. God would forgive him for stalking but he’d like to assure himself now that he was doing it out of good intentions.

“Y-Yeah, we were studying at the library and she invited me for free food. Can't say no to that!” He stammers, voice cracking. You roll your eyes, embarrassed.

“Well, welcome to the Y/L/N house. Make yourself at home and help yourself with the food. My wife makes good chips and dip.”

Aaron doesn't notice the mention of his wife’s name made your smile fall. He pats the young man on the back and kisses you on the forehead. Your spine tingles— shamefully. “I’ll let you kiddos go. I'm going to excuse myself to the restroom," He lies behind a smile.

Once excusing himself, he looks around to make sure nobody isn’t following behind him before heading upstairs. He checks the hallways to make sure no guests were wandering about, a bit nervous.

You see, Aaron lied.

He wasn’t really planning on using the bathroom. What he really wanted to do was go to your bedroom. He discretely turns the bathroom lights on and locks the door to make it seem it was occupied. A smart man— when desperate, it seemed. He knows what her door looks like, as how he always made sure to walk past it every time he visited. He stood in front of the door that was covered with a plethora of stickers and smiles rather fondly. Stroking the stickers, he admires Y/N's admiration for the softer, feminine things. He once again looks around before entering the room, steps heavy yet his heart pumping with shameless excitement.

Aaron is welcomed by the soft pink color theme of the room, posters upon posters on the wall of bands and pictures of her family. He allows himself to take a whiff of the sweet smell of lavender and vanilla spice that fills the air, each recognizable aroma reminding him of Y/N. He knows his cock shamelessly hardens. This is the first time he had stepped a foot in her room, but perhaps the hundredth time he's thought about it. It's much more different than when he watches her get undressed from his office. He gently strokes Y/N's pink filly sheets and her white teddy bear that he had always seen her dance with in her room. He shook his head, trying to get his plan into action. He wants her panties and he will politely borrow them for his own pleasure. Aaron is sure you won't even notice them go missing.

He pulls each drawer down to find the panties he’s been craving for and after what seems to be a while, he finds his favorite pair. The same ones he had only gotten a glance of earlier that day back in the shrouded shadows of his office. He takes a whiff, moaning to himself almost painfully. it— no, she has that lovely smell that he had always imagined. Always desired, craved. He couldn’t help himself but took a pair— or two. You wouldn’t notice. You love buying clothes. He buries y/n in his back pocket and pats on it, happy that he got his own gift. He was almost like a mesmerized child, his mind of delusions acting as his toy.

He carefully places everything back to the way it was and tidies everything to make it seem nobody else was in her room. Untouched and pure— like Y/N. He heads out of her room, making sure not to forget about the bathroom then makes his way back down. He resumes his unsuspected position back into the party, laughing with his wife and enjoying company— a devilish smile growing as something further down grows as well. Nobody in this room suspects that he has Michael's dear daughter's underwear in his pocket and oh— doesn't it feel so wrong yet so good?

If he can’t have her, he will have a part of her for himself to keep.

Aaron’s mouth curls into a familiar devilish grin. He slides his hands down to his wife’s lower back, stroking her spine, and leans closer to his wife’s ear, “Let’s go home.” his voice makes Sam visibly shudder. Her face flushes, agreeing that it is almost late and they must go home.

The ride home was silent yet loud with sexual tension. No words were spoken.

Neither of them makes the first move.

Aaron follows Sam to the kitchen and eyes her body up and down. He leans his body over the counter and sees her squeezing her thighs to hide her arousal, trying to act normal while she cleans the dishes. His nose crinkles with disgust. He needs to get this over with— he certainly isn’t attracted to her but he still has to do his husbandly duties.

He can sense her anxiety spiraling into her body. Aaron makes his way to her and wraps his arms around her waist, nuzzling against Sam's neck.

“I-I have to clean the dishes,” She stammers, and he resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“And? We can do it here just fine," He replies bluntly. He places a soft lick to her neck, and the blonde parts her lips to let out a soft moan, tilting her head back in pleasure. It's her sensitive spot and he knows. He slides the hems of Sam's nightgown downwards, stroking her hips before pulling her panties down to her knees in a swift motion.

Sam spins around to face him and her hands travel to Aaron's buttons, attempting to unbutton them but Aaron's grabs hold on her hands to stop her.

“Don’t," He interjects, eyes locked onto hers.

"Turn."

Aaron knew it wasn’t really about her. He just wanted it quick and done. He pivots her body, facing her towards the kitchen island. There's hunger overtaking his mind. He knows he isn’t hard because of his wife. He's hard because of you. Your panties are still hidden in his back pocket. He knows this might be the only way he can be this close to you. The brunet roughly bends Sam over the kitchen island, tracing her lips and parting it, quickly feeling her getting slick onto his fingers. It was overwhelming for her, he knew, his fingers are a gift from God. She grips the edge of the island to keep her knees from buckling. Despite hating her, Aaron loves that he had that effect on women, even ones as bothersome as Sam. A simple rub or touch would make them fall into the palm of his hands and he thinks about this as he slowly opens her up with his finger and feels slick coating him more and more before opening her with a second finger.

His breathing starts to get unstable when he realizes It's time to actually fuck her. His mind shifts to the panties as motivation— and there. In front of him isn’t his wife but you. God, he imagines— knows you would look so pretty under him. He runs his hands down the back of the dress to let it fall and leans over to kiss Sam's back but instead imagining it's yours he's kissing. He unbuckles his pants along with his boxers and lines his hardened cock up, sliding in so slowly that it has him groaning at just the tightness alone.

He can't help but close his eyes and vividly imagine you under him, whimpering at his touch and how tight, how warm you would feel around him. The feeling is practically unbearable and the desperation to fuck you both nice and deep turns insatiable. He wants to be your first everything. He wants to be the first to take your innocence. To handle your purity like how God handles his. "You" were so desperate and "your" moans and cries falling from “your lips” were everything he dreamt about.

“F-Fuck Aaron! Give me more!”

He refuses to listen to his wife and his motions— slow and steady yet his imagination is unmoved. His thrusts continue to be rhythmic, his hands making his way to his back pocket to take Y/N's panties out for a sudden sniff.

The smell was intoxicating. It was everything. His thrusts were in control. He knows his wife is growing impatient and desperate with how he loves to fuck her painfully slow but she doesn’t know he want to savor the taste of his little sunshine’s panties. Beneath him, begging him to fuck her—you— harder. Aaron growls, saying that she is ruining the experience for him. Sam is unaware that this so-called 'experience' was a euphemism for this delusional vision of you under him. She tries to change positions but his hands tangle themselves into her golden locks, grabbing rough handfuls and dragging Sam back down to keep her face down on the table to avoid her seeing sniffing his little gift.

“Don’t fuckin’ move," he growls. “You feel so fucking good like this.” His praises were enough to make her overwhelmingly wet and he sighs, thanking God that she didn’t see him sniffing another woman’s panties. He changes up the pace of his thrusts, making her moan his name out loud, with Sam gripping the table to support herself because— fuck, he never fucks her like this with so much precision and passion.

He inhales the intoxicating panties yet again, already addicted and they give him the newfound power and crazed animalistic purpose to keep thrusting. He needs to see you underneath whimpering his name, wishing to hear you whimper 'Daddy'. He fucks Sam with such brutal, quickening pace and perhaps bruises her hips with the tight grip he has on her with his whitening hands. Her legs begin quivering under Aaron. He chuckles breathily, enjoying the power he has over her—over "you".

Sam is so close to her orgasm and so was Aaron. He continues to bruise her sweet spot over and over until her entire body shakes from cumming loudly onto his dick. and yet, he doesn’t stop. Aaron fucks her with an animalistic sort of pacing, thrusting into her ruthlessly, and the smell getting stronger and stronger as he rolls his eyes back—feeling himself getting near. He doesn’t want to cum inside of her— she doesn’t deserve that. He wants to reserve that cum for you. Like he said, he wants to be your first.

Oh god he’s so close, he’s so close! His thrusts begin to weaken down before he pulls out and spurts cum all over Sam's dress and the ceramic tile floor, flashes of your face running through his mind. His back hits the counter, his breathing and the sound of his heart beating loudly in his ear. The darker-haired male returns back to reality after a while and all that fills the room is their synchronized breathing and shared silence. It was good— they both knew. But Aaron was aware it wasn't Sam that made this session good.

He crumbles up your panties tightly in his hands to keep it hidden and stumbles away from his wife

who is still bend over catching her breath from the unusual— yet passionate fuck she received from her husband. Aaron’s heart pounds as he realizes the inevitable and his obsession rings loudly in his ears.

He has to fuck her. This cannot go on forever. Fucking hell— God is going to have to get used to this because he will take her.

#aaron taylor johnson x reader #tangerine x y/n #The Holiest Of Sins #black reader #bullet train #tangerine

[de4dlyniightshade]

i'm having a Sad Day, do u have spence/chip/raymond hcs about how they'd react to u struggling to do basic tasks like getting out of bed/showering?

(yes i am using u for therapy bc i don't have irl therapy this week love u)

i don't have therapy at all but definitely should🤞

꩜ PAIRING: spencer/chip/raymond x afab!reader

꩜ RATING: none

꩜ WARNINGS/CONTAINS!: mentions of depression/very low motivation and mood.

© to de4dlyniightshade. no translations/reposts.

A/N: couldn't pick so i did all three🤞

spencer:

doesn't really understand at first bcs he's very stuck in his routine no matter how he feels but as soon as you explain that you're just really no feeling it he understands completely.

gives you space to spend however long you want in bed but definitely routinely checks on you.

brings you food when he makes himself something and eats with you.

if you're struggling to shower on your own he absolutely will shower with you, washing your hair and your body.

if it's ever really bad he insists on calling into work so he can stay with you for as long as possible.

brings you any and all foods that promote serotonin like the seeds and nuts penelope brought him.

chip:

understanding immediately and grudges going to work if you're sulking in bed but knows that the money he does get will be spent mostly on you.

speaking of which, will bring in your favourite snacks after work and bring them to you when he gets home.

lays in bed with you for however long you'll let him.

will jokingly drag you out of bed to shower with him, pouting and fake crying until you give in because he knows a shower will make you feel better.

so so so many kisses and hugs.

takes you for a nice long drive to relax and get you some fresh air without you having to walk anywhere.

plays music really loud and convinces you to dance with him.

brushes your hair.

raymond:

rots with you.

will absolutely stay in bed and sleep with you for hours, even into the afternoon if you want.

very understanding of your situation bcs he's been there before and knows what it's like.

doesn't force you to do anything but encourages you a lot, making sure you know you don't have to but he's there for you if you need him.

feeds you well, anything and everything you want.

stoner ray is true in my heart so will light up with you and get as wasted as physically possible until you're both in another world.

tells you how proud he is of you when you bring yourself to shower.

kisses you on the cheek all the time.

#📬 maeve's mailbox! #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #dr spencer reid #mgg #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #68 kill #68 kill smut #chip taylor #chip taylor smut #suburban gothic #raymond wadsworth #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds drabble #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #mgg smut

[matthew-gray-gubler-lover]

After Heaven.

18+

After the two of you got done with your shower And a round of shower sex. Chip helped you get out of the shower, grabbing your hand and allowing you to exit the shower without the worry of slipping and falling.

Chip handed you one of your pink towels from your bathroom before wrapping one around himself. You started to dry off but Chip stopped you saying "Let me help you sweetie."

You agreed, handing him the towel and allowing him to dry you off. You thought that this was something that was very sweet and intimate. You had no idea what he had in store for you though. His idea of helping you dry off meant discarding the pink towel he had just handed you

And instead using his tongue to lick off the droplets of water that had gathered on your neck, Chest, stomach and down to the part where you want to have him the most.

 Chip was doing a good job of getting you dry. He was also doing a good job of getting you very, very wet someplace else.

You moaned from the very first lick on your neck. But now you're moaning more and more and a bit louder now that he's getting closer to the place you want his tongue the most.

"We just had sex in the shower and you're already ready for me again baby?". Chip looked up at you smirking with love in his eyes.

"how could i not want you? look at what you are doing" you laughed.

"i would love nothing more then to make love to you all night, but i am a bit tired" chip told you.

"yeah i am too, great sex really makes you tired" you giggled.

The two of you are ready to get back into bed and fall asleep in each other 's arms. That was the plan anyway. However just as you suspected you were addicted to Chip Taylor after the first time he made love to you. and he did just that for the next 4 hours.

The two of you were officially addicted to each other, and chip was Definitely in love with you. A love that he had never felt with anyone else. He thought that he loved Liza. He might have even thought that he loved Violet, but it was true He loved you and you alone. There was no other woman that he was ever going to want from here on out.

You were awakened by the sun beaming through your bedroom window, something that didn't seem to bother Chip as he was still asleep. You looked at him with awe as he still held you in his arms. His head turned to the side facing you in, away from the window. That must be why the sun didn't wake him up. It was a beautiful sight his hair slightly in his face. He seemed to have a happy smile even though he was asleep. 

You lay there cuddled in his arms just staring at him. How were you so lucky to have such an extremely sweet, beautiful man in your life? At least you think that he's in your life. I mean, he is right now, but maybe you're just fun for him. Maybe he really has no intention at all of staying with you. But that's not the kind of man that Chip Taylor seems to be to you.

As you lay there staring at his beautiful face he slowly awakened looking down at you and smiled. "Good morning baby How are you?" He asked you his voice still sounding tired. How could he not be? After all you had a just about all night love making session.

"i am very happy" you told him.

"oh yeah? and why is that?" he asked you

"Because I woke up in your arms. You're still here. Life is amazing right now. Something like last night was something that I could have only dreamt of and till now i thought it might have been a dream" you whispered.

#chip taylor smut #chip 68kill #chip taylor #matthew gray gubler smut

[thelastofhyde]

⏤ para sentir el calor del sol, series masterlist.

pairing. joel miller x fem!reader

series synopsis. the story of a man riddled with coldness, struggling to let in the warmth he's hidden away from for years, and the ray of sunshine he calls his sol.

series warnings. no use of y/n ( reader has the nickname of sol ), enemies-ish to lovers, slow-burn, sunshine!reader, queer!tess, miscommunication/no communication, toxic approaches to love/feelings, obsessive behaviours, pining, undefined age gap ( reader can be interpreted as late 20s/early 30s in the canon timeline ) discussions of s.a., depictions of grief, child-loss and canon-typical violence, limited fluff, angst, smut ( lots of it ).

series wordcount. 30.9k ( thus far. )

series playlist. dia de enero - shakira, fallingforyou - the 1975, he gets me so high - beabadoobee, hate to see your heart break - paramore, out of the woods - taylor swift

disclaimers. 1) this series will roughly comply with the canon of both the hbo series and the video game but i have taken the liberty of changing certain scenes, events and dialogue to better suit the fic’s plot. 2) this series will have no official update schedule because i suck at sticking to them. no link = not posted yet.

add yourself to the taglist.

read on ao3. ( capitalisation available )

a word from hyde. i never intended for the likeability paradox to turn into this, it was simply meant to be a brainrot drabble of joel being on his knees. now here i am, willing to put my life on the line for joel and his sol, no hesitation because they mean that much to me.

i. the likeability paradox.

synopsis. joel miller is not a man who strives to be liked, with a chip on his shoulder and a scowl on his face, until his world is flipped on its axis when the pretty young thing living under bill and frank's roof, with an irritatingly unwavering smile and the literal sun shinning out her ass, says those five damned words: i don't like you, joel. warnings. pining, unrequited love, canon-typical violence, smut ( oral- f receiving, fingering, degradation, panty stealing, hair pulling, dirty talk, dubcon. ) word count. 12.9k

ii. the revving of engines.

synopsis. joel miller’s not made it this far in the age of the apocalypse just to die at the hands of some adrenaline-crazed, no-brain-having fool who barely knows where to place her hands on the steering wheel. hind-sight fully intact and ever-so eye opening, he should have said no before frank could even finish his question: can you teach the girl to drive? warnings. panic attacks, perv!joel, slightly dark!joel, soft!joel ( for like a second ), a smidge of fluff, gun violence, murder, smut ( unprotected piv sex- don’t be silly, wrap that willy-, public sex, car sex but also not, exhibitionism, possessiveness, murder kink [ kinda but not really, joel just gets... more enthusiatic at the thought of protecting the reader], mentions/implications of panty stealing, male masturbation, sex as a form of payment, glory-holes, dubcon. word count. 16.8k

iii. the butterfly theory.

synopsis. two seasons pass before joel's very eyes and, without the presence of his sol, neither the spring nor the summer seem to heat his aching soul. what's meant to be a simple drop off at bill and frank's becomes a whirlwind of events that sends you barrelling right back into joel's arms, and all it takes is a horrified shriek: otis is missing! warnings. mentions/implications of sa, only-one-bed trope ( with a twist ), smut. + more warnings to be added ! word count. ( unknown ).

iv. the weight of silver.

synopsis. joel should have known better than to trust that woman to keep her mouth shut. it’s not that tess servopoulos is bad at keeping secrets but, rather, that she views them as a way to connect, to share a precious gem among those she cares about. the added affect of embarrassing joel is merely the cherry on top. she may have put her foot a little too far into her mouth with this one though: joel’s got a new woman. warnings. jealousy, possessiveness, hints of sexual ownership, smut. + more warnings to be added ! word count. ( unknown ).

(+ more parts to be added. )

timeline outtakes ! aka drabbles

11:11 ( infected, 2008 ). 14:57 ( unshaken, 2011 ). 22:22 ( lookalike, 2016 ). 18:22 ( leashes, 2022 ). 20:34 ( tuxedos, 2023 ). 05:48 ( sunrise, 2023 ). 03:33 ( terror, 2023 ). 02:13 ( delirium, 2023 ). 08:03 ( routine, 2023 ). 19:17 ( overheard, 2023 ).

#joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #𓄹 nav;

[rreids]

call me ren • 19 • fanfic writer • gifs sometimes

“ sometimes for an artist, the only difference between insanity and genius is success. ”

send me spencer asks pleasepleasepleaseplease (other criminal minds chars are good too)! requests open. can be slow and inactive. minors welcome but please filter #mdni / smut tags. i'll block minors who interact with 18+ posts.

all writings • masterlist • reqs • rambles • asks • recs

rules • please don't rush me, i don't do pregnancy or similar, though i'm fine with references to kids and families (i.e. jack). i prefer fluff and nsfw but i can do angst! i write specifically for the bau and occasionally the actors' other roles (for example, chip taylor). it's all x reader here. i try to avoid traits that characterize the reader and make them less inclusive, so gender neutral but typically afab. if i can't do that, fem reader as i'm a cis woman. as for nsfw, there's quite a bit of stuff i'm not comfy writing but i'll make a different post about that if it comes up!

current rewatch: 05 x 01

requests • open! i don't write pregnancy, scat, piss, (step/in)cest, age play, daddy or mommy kink, anything super triggering or on sensitive topics i don't feel educated enough on. i will add to this list as i think of things! otherwise, please send requests! i'd love to do them :D

i can make gifs by request! please tell me the episode or source if you can <3 this includes for other authors to use as their headers

#pinned

[mixed-theater-faisty-tings]

I Dare You

Pairing: Jeremiah x Reader

Warnings: explicit, smut, 18+, unprotected sex, angst.

Authors Note: This is my first request written for @jeremiahxaesthetic !!! I know it took me so long to get the request up there were technical difficulties. But, I hope you enjoy the story. Anyone can find my request post below and on my blog. You can also find my Masterlist.

Requests

Masterlist

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Eli Pov

Huddled around the living room of the Fisher's summer house was not where I expected this night to go. Taylor came into town to play with Belly in the "Play it Forward" volleyball tournament and somehow managed to convince Jere and Conrad to stay home with us. Steven would've but he had to make an appearance with Shayla. "I'm gonna go get drinks and snacks Connie come help me yeah?", Jere gets up taking his brother with him. "So Eli you and Jeremy aren't like a thing right?", Taylor whispers to me. "Umm no we're just best friends kinda grew up in Boston together just never had the chance to make it out here till now.", my body subtly tenses up.

"Okay cool cause honestly, he is so fine I may just make a move on him while i'm here.", the confidence in her voice is deafening even at an indoor level of 3. "Go for it. He's a single guy who can date anyone he wants.", I want to vomit as the words leave my mouth. "Taylor you already went after Conrad don't you think it's a bit weird to go after his brother now?", Belly jumps in. "Do you want to have that conversation Cinderbelly?", a vicious tone decorated her words, and eyes glare in her best friends direction. "That was last summer and the boys and I are fine. Conrad is just a dick.", Belly rolls her eyes.

"I'm gonna leave you guys to umm..yeah.". Rushing out of the room I end up bumping in my curly-haired best friend in the kitchen. "Hey Eli everything okay?", his hands were resting on my arms sending bolt of electricity through me. "Just coming to see if you needed any help.", instinctively I pull away propping myself against the wall to keep my cool. "No I think we are all good. I even got you your favorite chips, Ruffles.", he boasts in a sing-song voice. "Well don't you just know me so well.", my words offer a pat on the back before we head back to the living room.

"Taylor, are you excited for the game tomorrow? I know Bells has been bouncing off the walls all summer.", Jeremiah asks plopping next to her but, across from me. My stomach churns at the sight, I have no reason to be jealous this is a normal sight for me to see quite literally. Parties, at school, even when we just go to the mall they drawn to him like moths to light not that I blame them. Jeremiah Fisher is the light at the end of the tunnel, always has been. Taylors body leans against his both laughing at some inside joke that came u in the last 10 seconds.

"Eli, why don't you pick the game we play?", Conrad playfully pushes my arm. "Um I don't know what games do you guys have here?", I ask. "Truth or dare!" Belly yells, everyone agrees stuffing snacks into their mouths. "Sounds like fun.", I manage the words but, not sure if I actually mean them. "Jeremy, truth or dare.", shocker Taylor starts us off. "Truth.", his eyes lock on mine for a second though it feels longer. We've been friends for so long he knows when i'm upset by the slightest turn off my lip. I can feel him checking up on me in this small stare. Once he is reassured he turns back to Taylor.

"Boring but, whatever. Is it true that you lost your v-card when you were 14?", Taylor smirks in his direction. It bugs me how intrusive she can be but, she ain't my best friend. "Umm actually no. I'm still a virgin.", Jeremiah explains. I can see the heat rise to his cheeks, the hint of embarrassment becoming apparent in his features. Conrad clearing his throat brings us all back from our dazes, "Belly truth or dare?". "I'm feeling dangerous hint me with a dare.", her smile brightens the room, everyone soon forgetting about the last 2 minutes.

From across the way I shoot him a reassuring smile, and nod of comfort a thing usually reserved for when we have the classes and need vote of confidence back home. His wide-tooth smile tells me he got the message, my body feeling like it's floating. "I dare you to drink pickle juice straight out of the jar and not tell the moms.", Conrads throws his challenge in Belly's direction earning a laugh from the rest of us. "So mature Conrad.", Taylor cackles at his childishness. "Easy.", Belly's confidence oozes out of her tone as she strides to the kitchen grabbing the huge jar of pickles.

After a struggle..or two Jere helps her get the lid off. She brings the jar to her lips and drinks the juice until Conrad stops her though it wasn't before he finished laughing his ass off. Our laughs all mix in the air the game continuing and everyone getting a stupid truth or childish dare, the more the game went on the closer I noticed Belly's best friend got closer to Jere till she was practically in his lap.

"Eh sorry guys. I hate to ruin the fun but, I think i'm gonna head out to the dock and get some fresh air.", the words leave my lips and my feet carry me to my destination, everyone's eyes following my every move. I can hear a few whispers closing the door behind me, rather than allowing that to stick I listen to the sound of Cousins. This is my first time here, for years Jeremiah has begged me to come and meet everyone, experience the summers he has loved his entire life but I never could make it because parents wouldn't let me or they planned some stupid family vacation that wouldn't come to par with The Fisher's summer house.

The salt-water air filled my nostrils with a feeling of warmth and comfort, soft hums of the water soothe my body. Susannah loves to take photos and sends any and every picture she gets of Jere and I to me, sometimes she will sneak in just him alone to make my day..damn her mother's intuition either that or my feelings are just stupidly obvious to everyone except the person that matters. The moment of each picture replays in my mind from the time we were baking a cake for Susannahs birthday and Jere let the batter go everywhere when we tried to mix it, to our most recent junior prom photo.

——————————————————————————

~Flash Back~

"Come on E you have to go it's the law.", he argued. "There's no law saying I have to go to prom. Besides, I'd rather just have a movie night we can get munchies and just chill.", I whine. "But it's PROM! As in once in a lifetime high school experience, you're only a junior one time this is our time!", his blue-eyes sparkled when he talked about this one night that seemed to mean the world to him..how could I ignore that?

"Okay, fine but I refuse to third wheel with you and your date.", my tone a bit colder than I intended. "Technically, you're the second wheel.", he bumps his shoulder into mine. "Wait huh?", the confusion prominent though my heart was secretly doing flips i'm surprised it didn't give out. "Oh I didn't mention that part? Well, you agreeing to go to prom isn't just agreeing to go to some school function it's also saying you'll go with me? You're my best friend there's no one else I'd rather enjoy the night with. Plus if i'm your date one you are practically guaranteed a good time and two it may just be the one thing you need to get you more involved in school functions.", he winks in my direction causing my knees to go weak.

"One seems like a pity date and two why do I need to be involved again?", I attempt to argue rather than show his effect on me. "We're gonna be seniors next year and I wanna experience it all with you. We've been friends since we were six, gone through elementary school together were we always went to the dances together even if I had to bribe you with a snow one afterwards. Middle school where puberty was awkward for us both, which we made a pact to never speak of so I shall move on. Lastly, first day of freshmen year we vowed to do this whole thing together same as always. The future is coming and it is sometimes really scary to me to think about not seeing you everyday or having you around all the time.", his words are laced with sorrow towards the end, our usual happy go lucky Jere now petrified of what's coming.

"You are so lucky I love you Fisher. Of course i'll go with you. Here's what I propose you give me the best night of my life and I'll personally ensure you the best senior year ever.", I stick out my pinky as means of demonstrating the seriousness of my proposition. "You drive a hard bargain ma'am but, I shall agree.", his smile is back and wide. With our pinkies intertwined we kiss the index finger knuckle of our own hand solidifying this promise.

~End flashback~

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"Hey stranger why'd you run off?", a familiar voice jolts me out of my thoughts, the promise echoing in my ears. "Oh hey J. Just needed some air.", I force a smile. "Game got boring after you left. Besides, you seemed down had to make sure my favorite girl was okay.", he playfully bumps my side. "I'm okay.". "That's a lie come on tell me.".

"Shouldn't you get back to Taylor.", I spit a bit more aggressively than anticipated. "Ah there it is.", he pokes at me. "Taylor is just being Taylor she flirts with everyone. I'm not into her like that.", he adds. "It wouldn't matter if you were. She's everyone's type.", masking the sadness in my words was harder than I thought. "Not mine.", I can feel his hand moving closer to mine resting on the dock.

"What's your point Jere?", the harshness in my voice seems to set him off. "Could you quit with the self-loathing my god can't you see how much I care about you?". "I know how much you care. You've spent our entire friendship proving it to me.", my words a bit calmer. "But clearly you don't know me.", disappointment crystal clear in his words. The air felt dense, an uncomfortable feeling for us. I can tell there is something on his mind but am terrified of what it could be.

"Just say it Jere. Whatever is on your mind please just say it.", the tears well in my eyes but, I do my best to hide them. "Eli, I've known you since elementary school god I even remember the moment like it was yesterday. It was snack time after recess and Gina had stolen your Scooby-Snacks, you tried to get them back but she stuck her tongue out at you and ran away tossing the empty bag onto the floor next to you. So I gave you my Goldfish now while they aren't as good as the Scoobs I figured you needed the snack more than I did.", a smile creeps onto my face.

"You told me your mom packed you two snacks that day however, Conrad debunked that lie later on. I was crying because I only got Scoobies once a week and that was my last bag until my mom got paid...leave it to Jeremiah Fisher to be my knight in shining armor.".

"That day I knew that no matter what it took I needed you to be in my life. Soon enough we were best friends doing anything and everything together everyday of my life I prayed to god to let me keep you and vowed to care for you.", his words were genuine laced with a sentiment I rarely hear.

We've always told each other everything, and sure we have plenty of deep-conversations but, never like this...it's slightly terrifying. "You've done that. You're there for me, and push me to do all the things i'm afraid of. Never allowing me to miss out on life, taking me out to dances or pep rallies or even just to a random bowling night hell you drag me to parties I wouldn't be caught dead at. I spent so much of my childhood reading to escape the real world but with you J I love the real world.", it takes a beat before I realize we are face to face.

"I love you Eli, always have.", his blue eyes soften the slightest glimpse of a sparkle present most likely a reflection of the moon. "I love you too Jere. You know that.",  an earnestness in my voice catches him off-guard. "As more than my best friend.", he tacks on with a hint of nervousness. "Way more than that.". “Truth or dare.”, he asked confusing the hell out of me. “Huh?”. “Truth or dare.”, he reiterates.

“Dare”, my voice is above a whisper.

“I dare you to kiss me.”, his light blue eyes are searching mine for some type of sign.

A wave of confidence washed over me and the next few moments were slightly out of character but, I didn't care. My hands grabbed ahold of his button up and smashed my lips against his. It takes him a second to register my movements before he returns my actions, his strong hands keeping me as close as possible pulling away only for the quickest of air our lips still brushing against the others.

"I've wanted to do that for such a long time.", he is breathless while keeping our foreheads together. "Believe me so have I.", I giggle. "So what does all this mean?". Way to be a buzzkill Jere I think in my head.

"I want you Jeremiah now and always in every way possible.", the words floated into the air as if to sink into his head. The look in his eyes getting brighter by the second. Without another word or even simple thought we are making our way back to the house. "Hey guys! We're gonna go meet Shayla and Steven at the party its wild ya'll wanna come?", Conrad bombards us when we make it into the backyard.

We collectively hide the last few moments by answering quickly.."No, it's okay probably gonna head to bed.". We have been together too long and frankly that may have been to quick of an answer. "Okay weirdos.", Taylor snickers. "I swear they are like Siamese twins.", Conrad jokes before walking away with the two girls trailing behind. Walking into the house the blonde boy breaks the silence, "Can I be honest about something?".

"Always.", by gently intertwining our fingers it provides him some comfort so he can continue his thought . "I begged my mom to let you stay in my room. I kinda promised her that I would sleep on the floor or that we could even try to get two beds in there. You didn't know Belly and I wanted you to be comfortable.", a hint of pink hits his cheeks, the similar heat rising in my face. "I appreciate that. Staying with Belly isn't too bad but, I also wouldn't have minded staying in your room.", I lead us up towards his living quarters.

"Where are we going?", he raises his eyebrows. "To be together. Something that should've happened a while ago.", I smile softly. The butterflies in my stomach are sent into a frenzy, initiating anything is completely out of character for me but, I'd be lying if I didn't say there was a bit of a rush that excited the hell out of me.

"Eli are you feeling okay?", he asks me when we make it to his room. "Do you want this? Us?", I propose the question dangling above us. "More than anything I thought we made that one clear.", the warmth of his hands cups my cheeks allowing me to lean into the touch. "Then prove it.", my eyes were fixated on his, a mix of lust and love beginning to form. "Are you sure?", he was searching for any sign of hesitation in my features and when he was sure there was none I found myself pinned to the wall.

"Once we do this there's no going back?", his voice was raspy and almost breathless the feeling of his hands digging into my skin sure not to hurt me. Rather than provide an answer I press my lips against his with a sense of hunger neither of us knew was possible from me. "Mmm, please I need words. Verbal consent.", though he was in a trance the fact he was still asking sent shivers down my spine in the best way possible.

"Yes Jere. Please I want you.", my eyes meet his pleading for his touch. He presses his lips against the skin of my neck, allowing his hands to travel around my body. A sense of urgency and hunger began to rise between us as soft moans escape my lips. My fingers tug at the hem of shirt removing it, the tips of his fingers dancing along my hips.

After gathering some momentum I manage to move us over the bed, my body landing ontop of the soft duvet his long, muscled body hovering over me leaving love bites along my neck. "Mmm", a few hums leave my now swollen lips while my fingers tangle themselves in Jere's hair. I have wanted this moment for so long I'm not sure I'm even that nervous I trust this boy more than anything, he would never hurt me or do anything I didn't want to. Every time he kisses or even grazes my body it's as if I'm on fire, a feeling that I never want to lose.

"A penny for your thoughts my love.", a look of curiosity decorated his features, a glimmer of concern taking presence in his ocean-blue eyes. "I just..I've thought about this moment for god knows how long and I'm glad it's you here with me now.". "Me too. God I love you so much.", he pecks my lips softly. "I love you more.", I whisper. HIs fingers begin to fumble with the button of my shorts intent on removing the denim from my skin.

In the midst of him removing my bottoms I catch a glimpse of the bulge fighting his swim shorts. "So I wanna know something?", he inquires drawing his hands up and down my side. "What would that be?", I bite my bottom lip.

"What happens when I kiss you here?", a soft kiss is planted on neck under my ear; I moan.

"Or here?", the collar bone causes me to shudder slightly.

"Here?", his lips trial down my chest, the heat between my legs rising.

"Best for last.", as soon a kiss lands on my thighs I'm afraid I could come undone just from this.

"Quit teasing.", I manage doing everything I can to keep my legs apart. "Needy are we?", his smirk is devilish. He runs his thumb over my mound, my backing arching off the bed. The motion continues while my thighs become decorated with hickeys...how the hell can I hide those in the summer? "Fuck Jere.", I can't help but whimper in pleasure begging for more. Within mere seconds his tongue and fingers join together causing immense pleasure pushing towards an edge I have never accomplished myself.

Every pump of his fingers collided with the lap of his tongue, my hands were tangled in his blonde locks pulling him closer if that were possible. I began to grind against his mouth the heat rising in my belly reaching my peak. Vibrations of his mouth against me was the last thing to push me over the edge. "Fuck!", my body releases covering his face in my juices. "You taste amazing baby.", he coos wiping his lips with a near by towel. A rush of pink hits my cheeks and I wanna hideaway which is odd to say when I'm physically and emotionally nude in this current moment.

"You're so beautiful Eli.", his eyes trail along my body as if he would be tested on every curve, dip and beauty mark that covered me. Without another word I connect our lips in a loving, passionate kiss. With enough strength I manage to flip us over, leaving me on top and taking him by surprise. I like this new found confidence I have.....

My kiss leaves his lips and works their way down his chest, the soft hums from him filling my ears with bliss. "Baby I need you.", he manages breathlessly, as I remove his swimming trucks..my eyes widen at his size less with fear and more with surprise while precum drips down him slightly. The tip of my thumb runs over it earning a moan from Jeremiah, fueling my confidence. My arms carry me over his body, his tip rubbing against my entrance soliciting a shudder from us both.

I slide onto him slowly wincing at the initial feeling that was soon overcome with pleasure when I began to rock my hips. "Oh god just like that.", his voice sounds dazed, while his hands grip my hips guiding my movements. My lips dance around his neck, as my hips make circular motions our moans mixing together praying no one has returned home early. He gathers his strength and flips us over taking over the motions thrusting at a good rhythm, the moment full of exploration and passion.

“I’m close Jere.”, I finally manage. The skin on my body is covered in hickeys, sweat glistening on us both. “Me too baby.”, he groans. The build up began in my stomach and grew more as my climax approached soon to take us both over. His body collapsed on top of me as we rode out our highs him still resting inside of me. “We didn’t use protection.”,I breathlessly say. “I’ll get a pill for you.”, he says planting a kiss on my head.

“That was..woah.”. “You’re telling me.”. We both laugh and clean ourselves up a soreness beginning to take presence between my legs. “I really hope Belly and Taylor don’t ask me to play volleyball tomorrow.”, I giggle. “Sounds like you’re coming down a cold to me which means cuddles and movies all day just you and me.”. He chuckles tossing me his hoodie.

“I dare you to try that.”. I pull the fabric over my body. “And I dare you to be mine.”, his muscled arms pull me to his body. “I’ve always been yours Jeremiah Fisher.”. My lips collide with his once more.

@jeremiah-fisher @jeremiahxaesthetic

#tsitp jeremiah #jeremiah fisher smut #jeremiah fisher #the summer i turned pretty #belly conklin #tsitp conrad #conrad fisher

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Chloe Or Sam - A Dieter Bravo Drabble

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader Word Count: 500 Summary: Friendship get complicated whenever somebody confesses their feelings. Warnings: Angst, smut memories, feelings, lost friendship. I'm sorry your heart was broken Dieter. A/N: Hi, it's me again posting yet another Taylor song themed drabble. I listened to "Chloe Or Sam Or Sophia Or Marcus" and had to write this out.

Masterlist

He’s there, always there. At your table, a chip taken out of the vase from the time he accidentally knocked his hand into it while animatedly telling a story. In your car, his forgotten sunglasses still sitting in the middle console, one of the many pairs he always loses. On your couch, the brown blanket you have draped over the back reminding you of his big fuzzy coat you helped him pick out. In your bed, the memory of the time you took your friendship a step forward, his eyes watching as you unbuttoned your shirt, his smile as you climbed on top of him.

The walls of your apartment whisper his name, they hold the sound of him telling you he loved you, tearing your world apart, his confession, his idealization of you. You’d never be able to change into his idea of what he wanted, what he needed, you’d never be able to save him the way he always wondered if you could. 

A sigh, his brown eyes downcast at your rejection. His earring glinting in the light as he solemnly nods, that same earring you helped him pierce in your bathroom while splitting a bottle of wine. Your apology, his smile as he tells you he understands, he’s such a good actor.

He walks away, how many times will he tear your world apart? 

You watch from afar. You dress up as someone else, changing into what someone else needs, still feeling like a fool while you play the part of someone else’s goddess, looks like you’re also a good actor. 

You watch his movies, you watch his interviews, you ignore his calls, you never text back. His handsome face shines on the screen. Your heart breaks over and over as you match each smile with a memory of him. A chill as he tells the pretty starlet he loves her as he saves the day, you pull the blanket that reminds you of him closer feeling like a villain as you wonder if your boyfriend can sense your guilt. You wish you could be his hero, you wish you could change into the cape and save him, but you know he doesn’t need you like he needs drugs. You could never watch that. 

Tabloid fodder, paparazzi pictures, rehab rumors gallop around your head like wild horses. He tries on partners as you settle down, you think of his hands all over them. You watch it happen.

You sell off that apartment, moving into a new home, somewhere that he no longer haunts like a phantom hologram. The cadence of his footsteps no longer following you down the hall into your bedroom, the breeze from the window no longer floating across your skin as he undresses you, the walls of your bedroom no longer painted dark green acting as the backdrop while his naked body crashes into yours. 

You try to outrun the desertion, you try to tell yourself you were too impaired by your youth, you were a wreck, he still is one. 

It could never be enough. 

Bravo.  

#pedro pascal #dieter bravo #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal drabble #dieter bravo brainrot club #dieter bravo fanfiction #ttpd #the tortured poets department

[dreamcubed]

the man | james potter x reader

song; the man [taylor swift] pairing; james potter x fem!"slut"!reader // slight sirius black x reader genre; fwb2l, light angst, hurt comfort(ish), light fluff word count; 1,7k timeline; marauders' last year at hogwarts warnings; swearing, slut-shaming, double standards, mentions/talk of sex, mentions of hook ups/sleeping around, misogyny, verbal conflict summary; you hated it. james could go around sleeping with as many different people as he liked and get praised for it, while you did the exact same and only ever got slut-shamed. the worst part? james didn't seem to understand that, despite being your most frequent fling

a/n; if you're below 16 please dni, there is no explicit smut but there are mature themes

masterlist

"every conquest i had made would make me more of a boss to you."

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You were used to the whispers that passed you in the hallways, but they still chipped away at your sanity. Offended wasn't how you would describe your emotions: no, you were angry. Angry that these people held judgements against you when they didn't even know you.

"She'd open her legs for anyone."

Even if you did, why would that make you an unkind person- someone not worthy of being friends with? How you explored your sexuality did not reflect how you explored your friendships, and your closest and dearest friend Lily Evans could vouch for that. You were loyal, generous and caring, but all anyone ever saw in you was a good-for-nothing whore. You could safely say that if you were in a relationship, you would never cheat - but you weren't, so you had every right to sleep around.

"She's such an easy lay."

It was ironic, really, how the boys talked shit about you behind your back, degrading your conquests, but still wouldn't hesitate to hook up with you given the chance. They were such hypocrites: if people like you didn't exist, they wouldn't have anyone to fuck when they got horny and lonely. If anything, they should be grateful that you provided them a service they so desperately craved for free of charge. Still, the comments hurt more coming from girls. They had been victims of sexism and misogyny their whole lives, and knew how it hurt, yet still decided to be that same way to you.

"Y/N would still fuck the ugliest guy on earth."

No, you wouldn't. Despite popular belief, you didn't hook up with anyone who looked your way. You hadn't even slept with half the guys in your year, although it was at the point where any of them could lie about fucking you and would be believed. There was no point fighting the rumours: it would just be another game of he said, she said.

"Overused pussy."

Since the rumours had gotten out of hand, your sex drive had actually decreased immensely. Not out of disgust in yourself (Merlin, no - you were not in the wrong here), but out of distrust of any of the guys in the school. They didn't deserve your sexual abilities, which were good, by the way. You excelled in the art of sex, and they really should have been more appreciative of that fact, because now you were going to starve them of it.

It happened all the time: a guy you'd hooked up with in the past tracking you down to beg you for another round. Yeah, and supposedly you were the desperate one.

You began turning them all away, hexing them if they pushed further.

Well, all except one.

James Potter was a frequent fling of yours, and with you now being on strike, he was practically your only on-going conquest. You liked him because he never spoke of your sexual encounters with anyone, not even the other Marauders. You knew that for a fact because you had hooked up with Sirius in the past, and he had definitely told them by the way they all acted around you afterwards. No, they didn't act that way at all after the first time you hooked up with James - it was clear they didn't know.

It's not that you disliked Sirius, as he clearly hadn't said anything bad about you, you just preferred how James treated the situation. Admittedly, you had been the one to seek him out for a second round.

And then it progressed into more, leading you to the official situation of friends with benefits, as you knew him too well outside of the bed for it to have a lesser title. Nonetheless, it was not awkward between the two of you in lessons and at mealtimes - it was how it had always been.

Even though he didn't make the comments himself, it was more than obvious that he didn't seem to understand how badly you were treated for partaking in the same actions that he did without judgement. It annoyed you, to some extent.

"I heard Endale call me a whore."

"Why would he say that?"

or

"I hate being called a slut."

"It can't happen that often."

Yeah, it pissed you off. You were reaching breaking point with it.

***

Tuesday evening, and you had just finished up with James in the Room of Requirement, which he had introduced to you after your flings became a frequent thing - although, you had never taken anyone else there, something about the room felt too special to share with anyone who wasn't James. You buttoned up your school shirt with your back to him, relishing in the silent but far from awkward aftermath of sex.

"I heard you fucked Potguild."

You scoffed, "D'you believe every rumour you hear?"

"Is it true?"

"No," you said, "I haven't fucked anyone but you in a few weeks."

You then turned to him to see he had raised an eyebrow at you.

"What?"

"Then how come I hear guys talking about their last shag with you every day? They can't all be lying."

You deadpanned James, which made him frown.

It was his turn to say, "What?"

"They can all be lying. That's what men do."

His brows furrowed further, "But-"

"James," you snapped, which took him by surprise - you rarely used his first name outside of sex, "You know nothing of what it's like to be a girl."

He remained silent.

"I'm so sick of you acting like I'm exaggerating when I talk about how I'm treated - you just think I'm exaggerating because it doesn't happen to you."

He opened his mouth to speak, but you kept going.

"Wanna know why it doesn't happen to you? Because you're a guy. You can shag whoever the fuck you want and get praised for it - get called the man - and it pisses me off that you don't understand that I don't get treated the same."

"Y/N-"

"Save it," you spoke harshly, grabbing your bag and leaving the room. He made no effort to chase you - and you weren't sure if you were happy or upset about that.

To be honest, you were pretty sure you were more mad at the patriarchal society you lived in than you were at James: he was far from an inherently bad person and would probably make an effort to apologise over the course of the next week.

You were right.

***

"Y/N, can we talk?" he asked at the end of transfiguration, catching you at your desk.

The first thing about his question that took you off guard was his use of your name in a non-sexual context. The second thing that surprised you was the lack of the other Marauders in the classroom - they almost always waited for each other.

"About what?" you said more coldly than you would have preferred.

"You know... the other day."

You sighed, "Okay, let's talk, Potter."

You almost didn't catch the way he flinched at the use of his last name.

"Great," he took your hand, and began leading you out the classroom to an alcove tucked into the wall some way down the corridor.

He let go of your hand, and stood facing you, as if waiting for something.

"Well...?" you pushed, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow at him.

"I'm sorry," he said firmly, "I should have registered how differently girls and women get treated, but I didn't, and that's on me."

You felt your expression and posture soften slightly.

"And I know there's no excuse, but I think- I think me believing the rumours was less to do with believing guys over you and more to do with me being scared they were true."

A frown formed on your face as you adjusted your stance, hoping that your silence pressed him to elaborate.

"I don't want you sleeping with other people, so I feared the worst."

"You want to be... exclusive?" you questioned slowly.

"Yes," he said quickly, "But not just sexually - I... I want to date you... I mean- there had to have been a reason you started only sleeping with me, right?"

As you processed his words, you felt your stomach flip with nervous excitement, and that was a cue to you that you may want to try something more with James. He was definitely the best sex you had ever had, anyway, as unlike many of the other guys, he actually paid attention to your needs as well as his.

"...Okay," you said eventually, "We can start with one date and see how it goes from there. But, for the record, me only hooking up with you was less to do with you and more to do with the other guys - so don't get ahead of yourself."

He nodded eagerly, seemingly brushing past your last statement, "Yes, perfect - Hogsmeade, this weekend?"

"But it isn't a Hogsmeade weekend-"

"You really think the Room of Requirement is the only Hogwarts secret I know?"

To be fair, you weren't really surprised to hear that.

"But, you realise that dating me probably won't stop the rumours... or change my reputation... and instead just ruin yours?"

He shook his head, "I don't care, they're pathetic attention seekers - I now know better than to listen to what they say."

"Let's hope so."

"Godric, have more faith in me, woman."

————————————————

masterlist

written; 09/08/2022 —> 06/09/2022 published; 07/09/2022 edited; —/—/——

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #harry potter #harry pottter fanfic #harry potter oneshots #hp oneshot #hp #hp fanfic #marauders #marauders era #marauders oneshots #marauders fanfic #sirius black x reader #sirius black

[blueshirtjamie]

Today Was A Fairytale//J. Drysdale

A fluffy fic inspired by Taylor Swift's "Today Was a Fairytale", in which you go on your first date with Jamie Drysdale.

Word count: 1.1 K

A/N: My requests are always open! I write fluff and smut for nearly anyone, see my pinned post! :)

_____________________________________________________________

Today was a fairytale, you were the prince// I used to be a damsel in distress

You took me by the hand and you picked me up at six

You checked the time on your phone– 5:55 pm. You were about to head on your first date with Jamie Drysdale; the sweet, handsome defenseman from the Anaheim Ducks. You two had been friends for a while, but things had heated up this summer, and the feelings between you two were quickly escalating. His adorable freckles and shy smile flashed into your mind and you smiled. You had thought you would feel nervous about your date, but you were as giddy as can be, bouncing on your toes as you applied your lip gloss in the mirror. You attempted to smooth your hair once more, but the frizz just would not be contained today. Your linen dress was slightly wrinkly, but you hadn’t been able to find the iron. You sighed, thinking “I look like such a mess!”, but time was running out, so it would have to be what it was. There was soon a knock on your apartment door. You took a deep breath before opening the door, knowing one of your biggest crushes was on the other side of the door.

Today was a fairytale, I wore a dress//You wore a dark gray t-shirt

You told me I was pretty when I looked like a mess

Jamie greeted you with his signature smile. He was wearing a dark gray t-shirt and denim– it was going to be a casual picnic date at a local park. He held a mixed bouquet of flowers in your direction. 

“Hi, y/n! I thought you might like these,” he said shyly. 

“Oh, Jamie, how sweet!” you said, taking the bouquet. “Come in, let me put these in some water before we go.”

You arranged your flowers in a vase and set them on the counter, noticing Jamie watching you as you did so. He had a gleam in his blue eyes and wore a barely-there smile.

“What?” you asked with a smirk.

“You just look really pretty today,” he said. 

You blushed.

“Oh, you,” you said, playfully swatting his arm. “Let’s go.”

Jamie held out his hand and led you to his car, even going so far as to open the passenger side door for you. He was always kind and sweet, but was clearly going out of his way to be such a gentleman to impress you, and you were falling for every single bit of it. You smiled to yourself, thinking “It feels like a fairytale.” 

Today was a fairytale, you've got a smile//That takes me to another planet

Every move you make, everything you say is right

You two arrived at the park and Jamie pulled a small cooler tote out of the trunk, you grabbing the orange and black picnic blanket that sat beside it. You laughed, causing Jamie to give you a questioning expression. 

“You have a Ducks-themed picnic blanket?” you teased. 

Jamie held up his hands in a defensive pose.

“What can I say? I’m loyal to my team.”

The two of you laughed as Jamie grabbed your hand and led you to a shady spot under a large tree. You set up the blanket and meal spread– Jamie had picked up subs for each of you, along with chips and cookies. You ate and chatted about nothing and everything all at once, laughing harder than you have in a long time. You watched Jamie as he told a sweet childhood story, watching as his charming smile grew bigger and bigger and his blue eyes crinkled at the corners. You smiled softly back at him. He had so sweetly created a lovely date for you, and everything was going just perfectly. It was like everything he did was right. He was captivating, magical, just the perfect boy.

Today was a fairytale, all that I can say//is now it's getting so much clearer

Nothing made sense 'til the time I saw your face

You had developed a crush on Jamie slowly; but today, you felt it all at once. It felt like the moment you saw his face–illuminated by the California sunshine and beaming as the two of you conversed–everything made sense. This was the boy you wanted, needed even. He was yours now, and you would stop at nothing to make sure he stayed that way.

Time slows down whenever you're around//I can feel my heart, it's beating in my chest

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as the sun sank below the horizon, seemingly in slow motion. Time seemed to slow down around Jamie, as if the universe didn’t want you to feel rushed. You slid closer toward him on the blanket, leaning your weight onto your hand, slowly inching it toward his own. You felt your heart pounding and could practically feel the electricity that flowed between the two of you. Sensing it too, Jamie repositioned himself and gently wrapped your hand in his own, placing it on his leg. He smiled at you, and you gave a contented sigh. 

“This has been so lovely, Jamie,” you said. 

“Good, I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he replied, gently stroking your hand with his thumb. 

A beat passed between you before Jamie spoke again.

“Well,” he said, pointing toward the darkening sky. “I guess we should get going.”

You nodded and began cleaning up the picnic solemnly. You didn’t want this day to end, it had been so magical. 

Well, can you feel this magic in the air?//It must have been the way you kissed me

Fell in love when I saw you standing there

Jamie stood up first, reaching a strong hand down to you to help you up. You smoothed your dress, and the two of you worked in tandem to fold up the picnic blanket, each grabbing one end and meeting in the middle. After the last fold was made by Jamie and the blanket set back on the ground, he stood in the twilight, a dreamy look passing over his face as he looked at you. You felt your cheeks redden and you giggled. 

“What?” you asked with a smile. 

He took a step closer to you, leaving virtually no space between your bodies. He looked down at your lips, then back up to your eyes. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked in a whisper. 

You nodded, and he leaned in slowly, closing up any gaps between you and pulling you close by your waist. Your arms wrapped up and around the back of his neck, settling in his soft black hair. You kissed slowly and sweetly, not wanting to rush this moment at all. It was perfect, it was magical, it was a fairytale– and it was only just beginning.

#hayleywriteshockey #nhl blurb #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl x reader #hockey blurb #anaheim ducks