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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 5 months

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Gold Dust

Pairing: Modern Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Public use of an app based sex toy, smut. Word count: ~1.8k

Summary: Aemond's office Christmas party is the last thing either of them want to attend, however, he comes up with an idea to make it fun for both of them.

Author's note: Can be read as an addition of this series, but also works as a standalone. Day seven of the Smuffmas prompts - "sharing a drink and toys". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Aemond edit in first picture is by @kyloremus.

It’s been six blissful months since her and Aemond moved in together. Having decided his own lofty high rise flat no longer felt like home - in truth, it never had - he’d offered a swap with Mysaria, and she’d leapt at the offer.

Aemond’s flat was paid for outright, so there’d be no expenses incurred on her part, beyond standard bills and utilities. She suited the space, adding a touch of glamour to the modern matte black and chrome surroundings. Her jaw had dropped when he’d handed her the deeds, his grandfather’s law firm already having handled the necessary paperwork and transfer of ownership. Aemond didn’t want rent, he simply wanted to live with the woman he loved. The simple act of Mysaria giving them a space to be by themselves was payment enough in his mind.

The security of the smaller, more homely feeling flat which she now shared with him had been trickier to negotiate. The landlord had snubbed Aemond’s initial offer to buy it from him, insisting he’d make more in rental payments from it than he would if he sold it. Some moderate pressure applied by the legal team of Otto Hightower, and an offer well above its current market value had soon seen to that, so now they were homeowners of a place that was theirs.

Mysaria’s old room had been turned into a home office, a space where either her or Aemond could work from home if and when they wanted to, aside from that they had made no further changes. The cosy little space was where they had shared their fondest memories, and every aspect of their relationship was woven into it.

She shrugs off her coat, hanging it up by the front door, and sighs in relief as the warmth of the central heating prickles her skin. She stoops to ruffle Vhagar behind the ears, a reward for the elderly doberman having reluctantly left her bed to greet her, before walking through to the living room. The blankets on the sofa are exactly as she’d left them the previous evening, and she eagerly retreats back into her nest, snatching up the TV remote from the coffee table.

“Good day?” Aemond asks, propping himself against the door frame as he emerges from the home office, the faintest smirk of amusement playing upon his lips as he looks at her.

She regards him with a warm smile, her features softening instantly despite how tired and irritated she feels. “Horrid, thanks for asking. Do we have any wine left?”

“There’ll be wine at the party, I expect,” he says, moving to sit next to her and brushing a chaste kiss against her temple.

“What?”

He narrows his eye at her, drawing back to look at her carefully. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

She groans as realisation dawns upon her. “Shit, your office Christmas party. Do we really have to go?”

He sighs, nodding and interlocks his fingers with hers. “Ordinarily, I’d give it a miss, you know I loathe parties, but my grandfather has called in more than a few favours for me this year. I owe him this.”

An hour later, and she steps out of the bedroom, hair and make-up finished and a slinky silk dress hugging her curves.

“Beautful,” Aemond breathes quietly, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips.

She smiles bashfully, feeling her skin heat up beneath the weight of his compliment as he pulls away, and watches with curiosity as he moves past her to rummage around on the top shelf of their wardrobe.

“What are you doing?”

“Your outfit’s missing something,” he tells her, pulling down the Lovehoney box, a glint in his eye as he turns to her.

“Aemond, no!”

The app controlled egg vibrator had been a drunken purchase on her behalf, that she’d regretted the moment it had arrived. Upon discovering it, Aemond’s reaction had been much more enthusiastic, kneeling between her spread legs and watching in fascination as she’d whimpered and writhed as he’d played with the settings using the app on his phone.

It had been fun at the time, but she’d considered it impractical and tucked it away, hoping he’d forgotten about it. It’s clear now that he hasn’t.

“Oh come now, darling, it’ll make the evening much more fun for both of us. Consider it an early Christmas gift to me.”

It doesn’t take much persuading, and soon she is sitting in the back of a black cab next to him, her coat pulled tight around her against the chilly December air, made colder still by a distinct lack of knickers, which Aemond had insisted she leave behind.

She is acutely aware of the feeling of the egg enveloped snugly inside of her, its presence, though discreet, making her feel as though she brandishes a scarlet letter that their taxi driver must be aware of.

“No!” She mouths desperately at Aemond as he pulls his phone from his pocket, thumb hovering over the app.

He flashes her the briefest of grins, tapping once on the screen. A mild singular buzz reverberates through her, causing her to clasp a hand over her mouth to muffle her squeal. Aemond eyes her carefully, poking at the inside of his cheek with his tongue before pocketing his phone once more.

Tonight was going to be interesting.

They step into the office, already bustling with people, chatter and light classical music fill the opulent space which is decked out in rich, mahogany furnishings and forest green upholstery, ever the indication that the Hightowers come from old money.

“There they are!” Aegon greets them loudly with a grin, arms spread and half drunk flutes of champagne clutched by the stem between each of his fingers. His shoulder length blonde hair is tousled, and his white shirt is open by three buttons.

“How long have you been here?” She asks, taking in his bedraggled appearance.

“‘Bout twenty minutes,” he slurs around a mouthful of vol-au-vent.

Otto steps up behind him, placing a ring clad hand upon his shoulder. “I tell you where you might like it, Aegon, on the terrace; outside.”

She watches with amusement as the older man leads him away.

“I’d better give him a hand,” Aemond mutters quietly, the warmth of his palm leaving her lower back as he moves to follow. He nods towards his older sister. “Good to see you, Hel.”

She smiles warmly at Hel leaning in as the two peck each other’s cheeks. “How are you doing?” She asks fondly.

“Starving!” Helaena complains, pulling her sheer turquoise wrap tighter around herself and waving away a tray of canapés that’s being offered around by a member of serving staff. “Not a single vegan option here, everything’s either got salmon in it or is slathered in cream cheese.”

“You could always sneak off to grab something?” She offers sympathetically.

“Aeg said there’s a kebab shop over the road. I might see if he’ll grab me a falafel wrap later. Anyway,” she continues, snatching up two flutes of champagne from a passing tray and handing one to her. “How are you?!”

“Yeah, really good!” She grins. “Aemond mentioned we might fly to New York for New Year’s, go and see Daeron. I’ve not met him yet and I– oh!”

She bows her head, biting back the quiet moan that tries to escape her, as the egg inside her vibrates incessantly. Her head snaps up, making eye contact with Aemond, who stands in a corner with his phone out, a sly smile upon his face.

Bastard.

“You alright?” Helaena asks, eyebrows pinched together in concern.

“Mhm…just...champagne bubbles…they go right up my nose!” She feigns a laugh, embarrassment making her skin feel hot.

Ever the dutiful girlfriend, she does her rounds of the office, speaking to colleagues and family members alike, though every interaction is thwarted by sudden and persistent vibrations between her legs.

After an hour of polite chit chat with Alicent, Criston, Otto and several other party guests, she leans back against the wall next to Aemond’s office door, needing a breather from socialising, but also feeling lightheaded from the intermittent throbbing in her core.

The door swings slowly open and Aemond steps out, a crystal tumbler of amber liquid in hand.

“Having fun?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Mmm,” she narrows her eyes, “you clearly are. What’s that you’ve got?”

“Laphroaig,” he tells her, swirling the liquid in his glass. “Thirty six year old The Wall Peat, to be precise. Grandfather would never offer this around to the guests. Lucky for me I know he keeps it stashed in his bottom desk drawer.”

“Lucky indeed,” she purrs up at him.

He grabs her hand, pulling her into his office and closes the door behind them, before backing her up against the desk, until she perches on the edge.

“Let me see,” he whispers, pushing her dress up above her hips.

His free hand applies gentle pressure to her knee, spreading her legs, and she watches the bob of his throat as he swallows thickly, taking in the sight of the arousal that coats her centre.

“Fuck,” he mutters darkly. “The idea of you walking around making innocent small talk while you’re soaked is driving me mad.”

She giggles, clenching around the egg that’s nestled within her as she sees his gaze darken. Aemond pulls out his phone again, changing the setting to a constant vibrate, before setting it down on the desk behind her.

Mewling helplessly, shockwaves of pleasure ripple through her as Aemond’s thumb swipes against her sodden folds, spreading her open to watch intently.

He takes a sip from his glass, and she gasps as he grabs her forcefully by the hair at the back of her head, crushing her lips against his and letting the whisky pass from his mouth to hers. She moans quietly, the intensity of the burn of the liquid that slips down her throat and the throbbing ache between her legs making her feel dizzy.

She is devastatingly close, can feel the pressure building to boiling point, and she whines, pressing her face into the crook of Aemond’s neck, fingertips rumpling the fabric of his black button down shirt as she grasps his biceps for purchase. “Fuck, Aemond, I–”

“It’s alright, I’ve got you, let go,” he coos.

She bites down on the juncture of his neck to muffle her pleasured cry, earning her a startled grunt from Aemond. Her body spasms around the toy, climaxing with a force that makes her toes curl inside of her high heels, before going limp against his chest.

He settles his glass down and strokes her hair before pulling back. His long, dexterous fingers wrap around the cord of egg, and despite how gentle he is as he tugs it free, she still hisses with overstimulation as it leaves her body. The sudden feeling of emptiness is alien to her after having spent most of the evening with it inside of her.

“Can…can we go home now?” She asks tiredly, as he wraps the toy in tissue and deposits it on the desk.

“Hmmm, not just yet,” Aemond tells her, taking her hand and guiding it to palm over the erection that strains against the confines of his suit trousers. “I’m not quite finished with you yet.”

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hoshigray · 8 months

Note

plz, can u write a oneshot about mean!toji x reader like hate sex 😭😭 toji bleeding and smirking in ep 4 makes me feel some feelings 😭😭 and if u can add some slap in the face- sorry for my bad english :(( hope u can understand

ik those feelings you're feeling, noonie, heheheee (¬‿¬) and dw, honey, your English is perfect ♡

cw: mean! Toji x fem! reader - hate sex, obvi - oral (m! receiving) - impact play; spanking - gun play (loaded) - bondage (chains) - hair pulling - dirty talk/degradation - doggy style position - unprotected sex - biting - mentions of blood and drool - it's gonna get real nasty (depiction-wise; blowjobs) so beware - pet names (doll, dollface, sweetheart) - angsty/violent ending. wc: 1.4k

"Go on." You look up to him, nothing more than his salacious grin and cold emerald eyes sending chills down your spine. Dry blood stains his tight black shirt and baggy pants. Metal chains restraining your hands are pulled to make you shift between his legs.

"...Tch, you got some nerve—"

"Watch that tone with me, sweetheart," your blood shifts to icy cold at the gun in his hand propped to your throat. "Would be a shame if I gotta put a bullet through you before the fun starts. So? Should I kill ya now, or are ya gonna be a good slut fr' me?"

Watery eyes twinkle along with the tremble rocking the uncomfortable bob in your throat, making breathing difficult. Your eyes then scroll down to the tent of his pants, his free hand bringing the material down to his thighs for his cock to spring out. You gulp trembling lips and hesitantly place your lips on the glans, a hiss exiting his scarred lips when you experimentally flick your tongue.

"Hmmm, don't act shy on me now," the gun to your throat drifts to your head. Fear prompts your heart to beat irregularly. "C'mon, Y/n. I know that pretty lil' mouth of yours is just beggin' to have me."

You give him a glare. It's exchanged with a chuckle, and the handgun's cold muzzle is now pressed to your forehead. "Fuck you, you fucking bru—"

BLAM!!

It was for a few seconds, but the blast was too close. Too frightened from the ringing in your ears that your body remains immobile, your eyes wide to the point of a tear falling. Too scared to move a single limb when Toji draws the gun back to your forehead.

"Actin' real smart, forgot who y're dealin' with." Toji sucks his teeth before his free hand pulls you by the chin back to his exposed dick. "Try that again."

Left with no choice, you open your mouth and insert the tip of his cock, your jaw loosening to accommodate the familiar girth of his length protruding from your oral cavity to the walls of your throat. Toji hisses at the swirl of your tongue on the underside of his dick, his free hand now on the top of your head with tufts of your hair in his fingers. "...Yeah, just like that, use that whorish mouth of yours."

If you had it in you, you'd bite his dick off right then; however, with a gun to your head and chains making escaping impossible, you can already calculate your doom if you were to do that. So, you pitifully suck on him as traces of his cum coat your tongue. The grasp on your hair gets tighter, and he roughly pushes your head to bob up and down from the base of his erection.

It's so disgusting how he uses you like this — like his toy, so used and abused...And what's worse, the throbbing sensation between your legs begins to flourish. Fuck you, Toji Fushiguro...

"—Ahhh, shit, shit," his groans of pleasure fill your ears; they feel so dirty to hear. His hips are unable to refrain from bucking into your mouth. And before you know it, Toji drives your face to his base, the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, and he releases his load into you. More tears fall from your face, whimpers muffled by the pulsing limb between your plump lips, forced to drink what he gives you until he withdraws from you. Drool and come paint his shaft, your mouth, and chin — a mess you're compelled to make.

But it doesn't stop there. Of course, it doesn't.

Because remember: you are his toy. And a greedy man like Toji wants to wear you out by any means necessary, whether you like it or not. Especially now with your face smooshed down to the cold floor, your hands to your back still restrained by the chains, and your bare ass for him to witness smack against his pelvis as he fucks you raw.

With a ruthless pace, Toji bullies and churns your insides with his girth in your cunt, his length pistoning to and fro from your leaky entrance. Your screams are erupted by the harsh thrusts, sounds of your ass smacking onto him corrupt your eardrums. He keeps you still on the ground with his strong hands on your shoulders, leaving any opposition worthless and unable to fight off his merciless tempo.

The fucker pants and groans down to your ear, it's so awful to hear. More so that it makes your slit clamp onto him tighter. How shameful. And he knows so too — the sinister chuckle is evidence as much. "Mmff—Heh, gettin' so tight fr' me, doll."

You don't reply, why should you. Too wrapped up in the pleasurable commotion between your legs to care for giving him a reply. That is until—b

SMACK!!

A sharp slap to your ass comes down to your ass without notice, erupting a scream from your fatigued throat.

"Hey, I'm talkin' to you, fuckin' broad." Your hair is yanked again, your head off the ground with tears and drool smooshed all over your pretty face. "Listen here, who—Mmmm!! Fuck...Who does this slutty pussy belong to?"

You'd rather die than say what he wants to hear you say. "Get off me, you—Ahhhhhh!"

Another smack to your ass, you chew on your bottom lip to the point of blood. "Cut the shit, Y/n..." He ponders before another grin lifts his scar and slaps your ass again. A choked sob aligns with your chasm gripping his cock again, and a satisfied moan comes from Toji. "Oh, now I know how to teach you a lesson."

Wait, no. No, no—

SMACK!!

"Ahaaann!! Ahhhh!! Toji, stop—" He doesn't listen, giving your shoulder a bite, leaving you breathless.

SMACK!! SMACK!!

"—OKAY, OKAY!!" The unbearable stinging heat on your asscheeks forces you to submit to him. ".....'s yours..." you say under your breath with gritted teeth. But with another blunt impact to your butt, Toji wanted to hear you loud and clear.

"Say it louder."

And you do. "It's yours!! I belong to you, only you!!"

His hands knead the hot flesh of your ass, and a dangerous chuckle stems from him. "That's better, ya damn broad." He releases your hair for your face to meet the cool floor again. "Now—Ohhh shit...you stay just like this while I finish here, got that?"

The older man doesn't give you room to respond, only returning his hips to an unforgiving pace. Mewls scratch out from your throat and mouth, too helpless to try and suppress them with your slick and come drip down to your legs.

It doesn't take long for him to climax into you, his hands finding your shoulders once more and pining you down, his fingertips leaving painful indents to your shoulder blades as he drills his dick deep inside for his load. Your orgasm follows when he grinds his pelvis to you, his length scraping your sweet spots perfectly and accurately. The rush hits you hard, your cunt contracting around him until the heat subsides.

He removes himself from your heaving body, trails of his come slide from your folds down to your inner thigh. The air makes the substance chill as it travels across your sweaty skin. For a minute, you're allowed to aimlessly rest. Your mind returns to its senses, a feeling of shame weighing your weary figure down. But it doesn't matter: it's finally over.

...So why do you hear a metallic click come from behind you? Your eyes drift to Toji's feet coming in your direction, crouching down to your level. A smile on his face — a sign you know that doesn't hold any positive connotation.

"Hope you enjoyed y'rself, I know I did," Toji hums, you could barely hear him. He then pulls out his handgun and points it at you. Those following words, so condescending, send chills down the spine. "Sorry, it had to end like this, dollface. Thanks for the fun time."

Your eyes widened before any words left your mouth. And just like that, you're reminded of your place in this mess. You're only his toy — a mere plaything he can rough up and mess with however he sees fit.

BLAM!!

And just like a toy, he'll discard you when he's done with you, removing your purpose and leaving your abused body for the cold, hard floor to keep motionless.

The blood that seeps out of your forehead is the only warmth you'll experience in your final moments. Finding a few seconds of comfort from yourself before your body shuts down, your vision blurry, and your identity whipped from the face of this Earth.

Here lies a toy that no longer works.

phewwww, been a while since I've done hate sex, hope you liked it!! :D

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 3 months

Text

the taste

buttercup, chapter four

a/n: the smutty smut has arrived, folks!

summary: “look, all I’m saying is that he likes you, a lot. He’s never let himself be with anyone like you, anyone who truly made him happy, anyone he actually had a fighting chance of getting a stable and healthy relationship out of.”

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, smut, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, kissing, over the clothes fun, dry humping, fingering, dirty talk

word count: 2419

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It had been the end of June when your parents passed. You didn’t recall much from that summer, most of your memories had just kind of faded away as the brain occasionally does when it’s faced with trauma, but one thing that you’d never forget was the feeling of Howard, each and every morning, gently lifted you out of bed and attempted to let you sleep a little longer, holding you like a tiny baby bear against him, as they went to open up the bakery.

School was out, and at only nine years old, you couldn’t just stay at home all alone, not with their long hours and especially not with the overwhelming grief you were dealing with. So, they brought you with them.

It didn’t take very long before you forgot about your toys and activity books in favour of just watching the magic that went on in the kitchen. Soon you were running around the place doing all matter of little tasks they could come up with for you and when they noticed the missing glint it brought back to your eye, they began to teach you and truly made you fall in love with the meditative craft.

At the end of that summer when the next school year rolled around, you didn’t wanna leave. You’d grown up here, you’d healed here, the doorframe into the small lavatory in the back even had little chicken scratches documenting your height. This place was your home.

Sweeping a damp cloth over the steel tabletops, the music emanating from your phone that rested on the dark windowsill suddenly stopped as it buzzed with your ringtone. Putting it on speaker, you kept on wiping the surface down.

“Matt, hi!”

“Hey,” his deep timbre filled the dim kitchen of the bakery.

“I’m just about to lock up, if you’re still up for a little company.”

“Yeah, about that,” he puffed out a heavy breath, “I’m still at the office.”

“Oh,” your moments froze a moment, “is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just swamped with this case prep.”

“Is it just you there?”

“No, the others are here too.”

“Well,” you exhaled a smile, “if you’re gonna burn the midnight oil, maybe I could come over with some of the leftovers from today to keep you guys going?”

Still in the doorway, your arms enclosed around Matt and the stuffed brown paper bag in your hand hung over his shoulder.

Eyeing the goods, Foggy’s voice found your ears, “is that the–”

“Yeah,” you simply extended your arm in his direction, “here you go, take it.”

“Oh my god,” he snatched it out of your grasp and opened the crinkly bag up, nearly drooling as he glanced through the selections, “Karen, could you–”

“Get some plates? Yep,” the honey-haired woman then moved into the small kitchenette and grabbed some paper plates and napkins.

Drawing back from the fleeting embrace, Matt then asked, “how was your day?”

“It was fine,” you shrugged, your eyes briefly flickering over his attire, the tie tugged loose around his unbuttoned collar and his sleeves were rolled up past his burly forearms, “I kinda like it when I get to do the night shifts all alone. It’s so quiet–, oh, and I get to have full control over the music choice. It’s great,” a slight grin brightened your features, “how about you, huh?” you grabbed his hand in yours, “what’s this wild case about?”

A deep sigh flowed from his lips as he squeezed your hand, “uh, it’s this kid who–,” his phone then abruptly began to buzz in his pocket, “oh, sorry,” he fished it out, “I gotta take this.”

Letting go of his fingers, you said, “of course,” and watched as he ducked into his own office and answered the call.

As you gazed at his visage still visible through the glass, Foggy’s words stirred you from your daydream.

“He’s happy.”

Turning to blink back at him, you hummed, “huh?”

“You make him happy,” Foggy smiled from the humble conference room, “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him smile that much with anyone else, but then again, you are quite different from his usual type.”

Passing over the threshold into the space, your brows furrowed, “I’m not his type?”

“No! Oh, that came out wrong,” he winced, “Matt just has a tendency to get involved with the wrong kind of girls. You’re just different,” hastily adding, “in a good way.”

“Oh…” you sank down into one of the chairs, wondering tensely if he was still dating others since you’d never had a conversation about how exclusive you were or how serious this thing between you even was, “does Matt date a lot?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it that, since it never really lasts that long,” Foggy said, though when he noticed the look on your face, his features soured in regret, “wow, I’m really screwing all of this up, aren’t I… look, all I’m saying is that he likes you, a lot. He’s never let himself be with anyone like you, anyone who truly made him happy, anyone he actually had a fighting chance of getting a stable and healthy relationship out of.”

Just then, you heard Matt’s footsteps entering the room from behind you, “hey,” he called Foggy’s attention, “you mind going down to the station tomorrow morning, check if Brett can get us any files that might help?” coming to a stop just behind where you were seated, his touch grazed the back of the chair. Reaching back, you caught one of his hands and briefly craned your neck, bringing his palm up to your lips to press a small peck to his calloused skin.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll go buy some more cigars,” Foggy sighed, briefly turning his attention back to the computer before him, slumping slightly as the intimidating and tangled laws still flashed back at him on the screen from when he’d looked them up earlier, he then blinked back up at you, “hey, Y/n?”

“Hm?” you hummed, meeting his eye as you weaved your fingers with Matt’s.

“Have I ever told you that my mom wanted me to be a butcher?”

“Oh,” you heard Matt sigh dramatically behind you as Karen too bit down on her lip to suppress a smile, “not the butcher story.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry to break the news,” you said light-heartedly as you chewed on the taste Matt had offered you of his curry, “but I definitely picked the better one.”

With his tinted glasses resting on the coffee table beside where your takeout container of Thai food rested, a smile twitched on Matt’s lips, “well, you do work in food, so it does make sense that you’re better at ordering.”

“Here,” you filled your spoon up with the red soup, catching one of the floating pieces of tofu, before bringing it up to his lips, “give it a taste.”

An airy giggle bubbled out of you as a drop of soup clung to the corner of his lip and you instinctively reached out to wipe it clean, his chuckle swiftly mirroring your own. Though when you then froze, fingers staying close, your laughter faded. The fluorescent light that streamed in through the tall windows of his apartment illuminated his features as you watched him swallow the small taste. Ghosting your thumb across his skin, you traced his bottom lip. You weren’t sure who moved first, but the next thing you knew, you were locked in a kiss.

You faintly heard him place his dinner down on the coffee table before his palms came up to cup your cheeks. You fumbled a bit, trying not to tip anything as you laid down the spoon in your grasp.

A yearning whimper seeped from deep within your chest when you felt his tongue faintly ghost against your own before he breathlessly eased back a bit to utter, “you’re right,” stealing a soft peck before he went on, “It does taste really good.”

Tilting your chin, you fervently captured his lips once more, your touch crumbled up his shirt till it found purchase in his already loosened tie, playing with it as your tongue danced against his.

When he buried his hands in your hair, his short nails soothingly scraped over your scalp and a small moan flowed from you and vibrated against his kiss.

The clear pulse that rocked throughout your body accumulated between your legs in a dizzying throb, an enchanting sensation that swayed you to get even closer and crawl into his lap. His wide palms dragged down the length of your spine in a way that caused a shiver to follow along.

Tangling your fingers in his hair as you kissed him back, your hips then instinctively sought to scratch and satisfy the itch that had grown so immense by rocking down against him and the noticeable hardness that tented his pants.

Breathlessly in between kisses, Matt said, “you wanna enjoy the food before it gets cold?” offering you a gentle escape in case you needed it.

Ghosting the tip of your nose against his, you uttered, “I don’t mind popping it in the microwave,” deliberately rolling your hips against his once more, “do you?”

Sharing his hot breath, you were so close that your lips nearly crashed into one another once more, but they didn’t as your pelvis kept up their slow and teasing grinding. Matt’s eyes fluttered shut a moment as he let out a low groan, “no,” his touch slid further down and dug into the softness of your bottom, “no, I don’t mind.”

Capturing your lips once more, he slowly began to grow more confident in his touch, though some weariness still lingered as he began to aid your movements.

As his lips migrated down the length of your neck, you let out a moan, “fuck,” your frame shivering from the pleasure, “oh my god,” yet also out of a deep desire for more, “Matt…”

“Yeah?” his low voice vibrated against your throbbing pulse on the side of your neck.

“M-Matt–,” your eyes fluttered shut as he rocked you down harder against him, “oh, holy fuck… could you–, would you–”

“What?” the sound of his words made you feel dizzy, “what do you need?”

“Touch me,” you uttered hazily, head enchantingly tilted back.

“Yeah?” he reeled back a bit as one of his hands scooped up to find your cheek.

“Please,” you downright whined, “please, Matt.”

Keeping one hand fast in your hair, the other one moved to caress the soft peaks of your tits.

“Here?”

You let out a filthy whimper as he palmed you, “uhh, ngah–, lower–…” his hand teasingly complied, “lower…” till he finally cupped you through your pants.

“Here?” he pressed down against the seam, “huh? Is it here, Y/n?

“Y-yes!” you shuttered on top of him as he rubbed your thrumming clit so perfectly through your clothing, “oh, f-fuck, you’re good at that–”

He stole a short, yet sloppy kiss from your lips before your head tilted down and buried itself in his neck. Your moans were muffled against the crook of his shoulder as you then glided your own fingers down along the length of his arm, feeling the muscles of his forearm tense beneath your touch as he worked you. Eventually, your hand found what it was looking for, your palm rested atop of his, almost like you were holding his hand as you felt it move beneath yours and stroke you silly.

Your fingers then grasped his tighter as you plucked it further up and stuffed it into your waistband, guiding his reach all the way down till you soaked his digits.

“Christ, you’re wet,” Matt groaned as your touch, ever atop of his, begged him to swirl your puffy pearl, “fuck…”

Without the barrier of clothing, your frame swiftly began to crumble from the ecstasy. Your right leg gave out and slid across Matt’s lap to where your other limb was. Your head drifted down as well as Matt’s arms only tightened around your slumped form, keeping you flush against him as you hid your features in the mass of his arm as your free hand clutched onto it.

Curling into him as he cradled you, the way he petted your pussy nearly made you vibrate, “don’t stop, please,” you unintentionally kept wiggling down against the tent in his pants.

“I won’t,” he breathed heavily as he kept on caressing you, occasional moans also flowing from his lips, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

His long middle finger then slid down to tease your leaking hole before just shyly sinking in, just barely, keeping everything so light, before fluttering up to circle your clit again and then dropping down to repeat the motion till he had you on the edge.

When you tumbled over, both of your hands joined at his bicep, digging into it as his name shined through your lewd moan.

Catching your breath, his fingers gently slipped out of your pants. Sluggishly, you clung closer and snaked your arms around him.

“You okay?” he hugged you tight.

“Mhm,” you hummed into his warmth.

Planting a soft peck on your hairline, he then moved to readjust your embrace, lowering you both till you were lying on the leather couch.

After a moment, your fingers twisted in the southern material of his shirt close to his belt, “do you want me to–…”

“No need,” he shook his head.

Tilting your chin up, you glanced at his soft expression, “really?”

“Yeah,” a bright smirk tugged at his lips, “just the way you sounded was beautiful enough to do the trick for me.”

Grinning wide, you felt your face grow hot at the compliment, haven not realised the power he had over you apparently went both ways.

Cuddling him closer, you lifted yourself up a bit and pressed a slow kiss to his lips.

When you laid your head back down, he asked, “do you want something to drink?” his warm palm drew slow and soothing patterns all along your spine, “some more to eat maybe?”

“No,” you blinked up at him, utterly spellbound, “could we maybe just stay here like this a little longer?”

“Of course,” he relaxed further beside you, “we can stay like this forever if you’d like.”

A smile then crept up on your lips as you pointed out, “forever’s a very long time…”

Chuckling lightly, Matt nodded, “it is…”

#lea’s writing #buttercup series #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matthew murdock imagine #matt murdock x fem!reader smut #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #matt murdock series #matthew murdock x reader #matthew murdock smut #matt murdock angst #matt murdock hurt/comfort #marvel smut #matt murdock fluff

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shuadotcom · 9 months

Text

Main Dish | HJS (M)

☐ Summary: When lunch ends up being inedible, Joshua has to pick something else to eat.

☐ Pairing: Joshua x Afab!Reader

☐ Genres & AUs: Smut, fluff, established relationship!au, absolutely porn without plot

☐ Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

☐ Warnings: Profanity, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, pet names (baby, baby girl, sweetheart, honey, good girl), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting

☐ Words: 3.2k

☐ Note: This fic is brought to you by my lack of cooking skills and my insatiable need for Joshua. It was also written for @kpopsblackcreatorsociety Bon Voyage Bingo event! The bingo square/prompt for this fic is camping.

Thank you @horanghater for being my beta ily 🥰

☐ Net Tag: @kflixnet

“Please don’t go off, please don’t go off, please do-”

BEEEEEEP BEEEEEP BEEEEEEP

“Goddamnit!” Working as fast as possible, you grab the pan from the hot stove top, removing it from the heat. The blare of the smoke detector rings out through the apartment and you have to act quickly to open all the nearby windows, waving away the smoke in the air with the dish towel.

Once the smoke mostly clears and the alarms have subsided, you survey the scene in front of you. Grumbling in frustration you eye the now burnt tofu on the stovetop and let out a disappointed sigh. You had just wanted to cook something fun and new for your boyfriend. He’s been camping with his friends for the past week and you figure he would appreciate a home-cooked meal but, as usually happens with you in the kitchen, it turned out to be a disaster.

You weren’t a cook by any means, but you knew how to get by with very basic skills. Boiling eggs, making stove-top ramen, and using the air fryer slash toaster oven you had begged for on your last birthday.

All of the essentials of cooking.

Tonight, the plan was originally to try a new pan-fried tofu recipe you saw on TikTok because it looked yummy. Instead of looking like the wonderfully golden-fried nuggets that they were supposed to resemble, all that sits in the pan in front of you now are uneven little pieces of charcoal.

Great. Wonderful. Amazing.

Standing in the middle of the kitchen, gnawing at a hangnail in distress, you didn’t even take notice of your boyfriend watching you from the entrance of the room, admiring how cute you looked in your little lounge clothes and apron. His entrance had been drowned out by the blaring of the smoke alarms.

“Don’t chew on your nails, honey, it’s not good for you.”

Joshua’s voice is much louder than the music you are playing from your phone on the counter and you nearly leap into the air when you hear him.

“Jesus, Shua! You scared the shit out of me!” Clutching your chest, you reach over and pause the sound from your phone.

He chuckles as he approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist and drawing you in for a hug.

“Sorry, baby. I couldn’t help it.” He apologizes, but the smirk on his face shows he’s not really that sorry.

Joshua places a kiss and your waiting lips and your annoyance at being jump-scared fades. He smells like outside and a little bit like sweat, but underneath that, he still has his usual warm, homey scent that belongs only to him.

You let him take your breath away a little while longer, arms wrapping around his neck to bring him closer. He rests his head against yours when you pull away, his eyes tired but still sparkling down at you.

“How was your guys' camping trip?”

“Well, Mingyu found a spider in his tent and tore the whole thing down trying to get out, Soonyoung got sunburnt and fell into the lake, and Vernon forgot his allergy medicine and spent all week sneezing.”

“So the usual shenanigans?”

With a chuckle, Joshua nods, looking you up and down. “Basically, but I’m having a much better time now that I’m back here with you.” He leans down to kiss your forehead and you still let yourself get flustered by his sweet words, even after three years together. “And what’s going on in here?” He asks when he finally pulls away, eyes looking over your head at the charred remains of your lunch.

“Nothing, just me fucking up in the kitchen again.” Pouting, you cross your arms, wincing as Joshua steps up to the counter, inspecting what’s remaining of the tofu.

“Ah baby, they don’t look that bad…” He uses the chopsticks you left nearby to poke at a piece, raising it to his face and sniffing it.

“Shua, don’t-” Before you can stop him, he pops it into his mouth, chewing extra slowly. Your boyfriend, always so sweet to you and considerate of your feelings, looks like he’s in physical pain as he crunches the food, his nose wrinkling with each shift of his jaw. With a sigh you walk over and grab a sheet of paper towel, holding it up to his mouth. “Spit it out.”

“It doesn’t taste terrible…” he mumbles between chews, eyebrows furrowing as he does.

“Joshua, just spit it out!” At your insistence he does, expression apologetic.

Joshua watches you take the rest of the tofu and throw it away, shoulders slumping in defeat. He moves across the kitchen to stand behind you, wrapping you in his arms.

“Don’t be upset, baby. It’s just some tofu.”

“But I fucked up lunch for you! I just wanted to make you a homemade meal since you’ve been eating over a campfire all week.” Joshua coos at you, pulling you tighter against him.

“Aw, sweetheart, you didn’t have to do all this in the first place. I think we both know that you would’ve been better off ordering something. There’s a reason I do most of the cooking, remember?” He laughs, his tone teasing.

Gasping, you spin in his hold, round eyes staring up at him as you pout for what feels like the twentieth time tonight. “Joshie, are you saying I can’t cook?!”

Faltering, Joshua’s eyes dart back and forth, strategically planning his next words.

“I - I didn’t mean that you can’t cook, Y/n. I just -”

“I’m kidding, Shua. Of course, I know I can’t cook.” He’s clearly relieved, rolling his eyes at your giggles.

Joshua leans down to pepper your face with kisses, holding you close, ignoring your feeble attempt to escape his grasp.

“I guess it’s a good thing then that I wasn’t even thinking about what I’d eat for lunch.” He places a final kiss on your cheek before pulling back to gaze at you.

“You weren’t?”

“Of course not. How could I even begin to think about lunch when all I could think about was tasting you again?” Joshua smirks at you, laughing when you scoff, your turn to roll your eyes at him.

“How did I know you wouldn’t even be a little bit subtle about wanting to have sex as soon as you got back?”

“Because you know how addicted I am to you and how much I think about you.” You and Joshua are chest to chest, his hands tracing your body, fingertips pressing lightly into your curves.

Joshua’s voice has already lowered an octave, eyes flickering to your lips. You’re in no way surprised at how quickly Joshua turned the situation from silly and domestic to horny, but you’re not bothered in the slightest, more than happy to fuck your boyfriend again. A week has been far too long of a time to go without Joshua’s cock inside of you.

“Oh, so you were thinking of me on your trip? Thought you’d be too busy grilling meat and playing games with the boys.”

“Baby, I’m always thinking about you, but especially when we’re not together.” Joshua ducks down, his nose brushing yours.

“And what about me were you thinking about exactly?” You whisper, holding your breath as you await his next words.

“Well, I was thinking all about how sweet your cunt is and how I couldn’t wait to come home and devour you.”

Somehow you hadn’t registered that Joshua walked you back until the counter pressed into your lower back, trapping you between it and Joshua’s firm body.

“Hmm…then I guess lunch is served whenever you’re ready to eat,” Tilting your head up, your lips brush against Joshua’s. You shift your leg forward, knee brushing against the crotch of his sweatpants. A grunt slips out of him when you make contact with his half-hard cock and he surges forward, lips meeting yours in a feverish kiss.

Joshua’s soft lips move against yours, his hands cupping your face to keep you close. Your hands trail up Joshua’s thick arms, tracing every ridge and dip of muscle. You’ve never been shy about how much you enjoy the new gym rat era he and a few of his friends have entered, making sure to be very obvious about the way you appreciate the new muscle he’s worked on gaining. He also doesn’t hide just how much he loves how the bulkier version of him turns you on, your boyfriend flexing for you so the muscles tense and loosen a few times under your fingertips.

Those same strong arms move to hold your waist, holding onto you as he swallows every pant and tiny whine that you let out. Joshua’s tongue wraps around yours and sucks, the kiss descending into lewd territory as Joshua grinds against your thigh still wedged between his legs.

The kiss feels like it goes on forever, which is in no way a complaint. Joshua’s hands wander all over your body, hands skating down to grab at your bare thighs and up to your ass, grabbing a handful to bring your hips impossibly closer. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you are, feeling your cotton panties clinging to you with each shuffle of the fabric.

Joshua seems to read your mind as he finally moves a hand under your apron and into the waistband of your shorts and panties, his finger grazing your pussy making you jolt and buck into his hand.

“Would you look at that? You’re fucking drenched just from my kisses?” To illustrate his point, he pulls his fingers from your shorts, holding the wet digits up to showcase your juices to you both.

“Fuck, yeah, I need you so badly. I missed you so much.”

Joshua hums, popping his fingers into his mouth, eyes closing as he sucks them clean, savoring your flavor. The scene is enough to have you rubbing your thighs together, easily recalling just how good his tongue feels when it’s on you.

“Mmm, I missed you too, baby. And speaking of, I’m starving, so I think I’m ready to eat now.”

Joshua plants his hands on your hips and turns you around so his front is pressed against your back, walking with you out of the kitchen and around to the island, leaving kisses on the back of your neck as you go. When you reach the side of the island that you usually sit to eat at, Joshua’s nimble fingers untie your apron and lift it over your head, tossing it to the floor. Your shorts and panties come next as he slides the fabric down your legs, letting them pool at your feet.

Your boyfriend makes a sound of appreciation at the sight of your bare ass, big hands squeezing your cheeks before landing a firm smack on one of them. He helps you up onto the island, sitting you near the edge. Joshua pulls up a stool in front of you, spreading your legs wide, and letting out a low whistle.

“Look at all of this, so messy and sloppy all for me.” Joshua leans forward and places kisses on the inside of your thighs, inhaling your scent as he does, small moans rumbling in his throat.

A few whimpers slip out of you with each kiss over your hot skin, Joshua’s breath hitting your core only serving to make you wetter. Joshua loves eating you out, always talking about how good you taste and how much he loves the way you smell when you’re dripping for him.

He doesn’t leave you waiting for long this time (another thing Joshua loves is to tease you, but he seems to want you bad enough to spare you this time) as his tongue finally licks at your clit, the muscle flattening and adding much-needed pressure.

A squeal of Joshua’s name tumbles out of you as he licks a fat stripe from your hole to your clit - once, twice, three times, each go making you twitch underneath him. Your legs almost snap shut, but his firm grip keeps them open.

“Nuh-uh, keep your legs open, baby girl. I haven’t even started eating my meal.”

Your eyes stay trained on him as his hands grab the back of your thighs, pushing them toward you. You lie on your back in a more comfortable position, hands trembling as they hold onto the front of your shirt in anticipation.

“I’ll never get tired of eating you out, you know that? Never get tired of how fucking sweet you taste on my tongue.” To further his point, Joshua’s thick tongue slips into your pussy, lapping at your gummy walls, letting his nose brush against your clit.

“F-fuck!” Your hands dart down, fingers threading through his brunette strands, tugging at the root as he tongue fucks you on the kitchen island.

Every grunt and groan that Joshua lets out is deep, deep enough that the vibrations can be felt throughout your whole body. You can’t help but thrash underneath him, loud obscene slurping sounds fill the room as he works. Joshua’s hands keep your thighs pinned down, preventing you from nearly falling off the counter while his face presses closer to your cunt.

He eats you out like a man starved, a week without your pussy proving to be much too long away for him. The tip of his tongue is still buried inside of you, flicking at your walls at an almost impossible speed.

Fire begins to quickly pool in the pit of your stomach, nails digging into Joshua’s scalp which only spurs him on more.

“Shua, b-baby so good!”

“Mmph?” You can’t quite hear what he says but it sounds like it has a questioning tilt at the end.

“‘M gonna cum!”

That must’ve been what he was getting at because he picks up the pace and moves his hold on you to the sides of your thighs and makes you wrap your legs around his head. Joshua uses this new angle to force you to rock your hips against his face, leaning into you so far that when you glance down, all you see is the top of his hair which you’re still holding onto for dear life.

Rolling your hips you go with his movement, desperately riding his face. Joshua lets you, his tongue drilling into you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

When you do cum, you stiffen almost painfully as heat spreads through your body, your thighs squeezing around him like a vice, holding him in place. Your boyfriend happily continues lapping at your sensitive core, murmurs of praise accompanying his coos of delight.

“So fucking tasty,” Joshua sighs as he pulls back, finally taking in air through his mouth. He glances at you, watching your chest heave as you catch your breath. Without a second thought, with your hole still clenching around nothing, Joshua shoves one of his thick fingers into you, drawing a gasp out of you.

“Shua!?”

He has the audacity to blink up at you, faux innocence on his face along with your juices still shining on the bottom half of his face.

“What? I want seconds.” He shrugs, adding a second finger which has you cursing, senses on overdrive. Joshua’s plush lips are back on your clit, sucking the nub into his mouth, ignoring the way your nails dig into his hair again, tugging on his soft locks.

“Ngh, Josh-Joshua! Please!”

“Please what, baby?” He mumbles, lips still suckling on your clit, your legs quivering as they rest on his shoulders. His fingers have no trouble finding that soft squishy spot inside of you that has your eyes crossing, the squelching sound of your wetness ringing in your ears.

“I’m - I just…” You trail off when your boyfriend curls his fingers, the overstimulation derailing your train of thought as you feel another orgasm hurdling toward you. Joshua smirks up at you, loving the way he can literally watch as your brain short-circuits for him - because of him.

His lips go back to your clit, suctioning around the bud. His fingers delve into you faster, your velvety walls hugging his digits, coating them in more of your sticky arousal. Sweat beads at your hairline and tears prick your eyes as Joshua throws you into another orgasm, electricity coursing through your veins and a choked, desperate cry of Joshua’s name tumbling from your lips.

“Yeah, just like that, good girl.” He purrs against your overworked pussy, slowly dragging his fingers out of you. You whimper at the loss, only for the sound to be replaced by a loud wail, Joshua’s slick fingers rubbing rough, frantic circles against your clit.

“Shit! Fuck, Shua I’m - fuuuck!”

“Come on baby girl, one more. Make a mess all over the fucking counter.” The pads of his fingers drag against your clit, body arching as you flail your hands, scrambling across the marble of the counter looking for something to ground you.

The sensation borders on painful, the sensitivity too much to handle as the pleasure builds and your muscles spasm. When you cum this time, it knocks the wind out of you, your eyes rolling back, your mouth open in a silent scream. Joshua leans down, eyes watching with glee as you squirt all over his hand and arm, getting your mixture of arousal on his shirt. He even cranes his head down, mouth open to drink up the remaining spurts of your release.

He rubs lazy circles over your puffy clit, letting you ride out the rest of your orgasm until your hoarse voice begs him to stop and he does, but not before wiping up as much of your wetness as he can on his fingers and popping them into his mouth once again.

“Fucking hell, Shua!” You huff out when you’ve finally sucked enough air back into your lungs.

“What? I told you I was starving.” His cocky grin earns him a half-hearted kick to his shoulder using the minuscule amount of energy you have remaining. He catches your leg, placing a soft kiss on your ankle before he straightens up and sits back to admire your ruined state.

“Are you going to help me up or leave me here for the rest of the day?”

“I should eat all of my meals in the kitchen, but I suppose I can help you down.” Joshua laughs at your half-hearted threat to kick him again and offers his hands to you. He helps you sit upright and slowly slides you off of the island.

When you’re back on shaky feet, you move to pick your bottoms up, but he stops you by pulling you against him.

“Wh-”

“Oh, you don’t need those. I’m gonna order some lunch for us, but I need dessert before it gets here.” He presses his hips forward, his rock-hard dick pressing against your ass. Joshua once again envelops you in his warm embrace, lips skirting against the shell of your ear. “That okay with you, baby?”

Between the orgasms he pushed out of you only minutes ago and the dip in his voice, wetness collects between your legs again, pussy clenching at the thought of Joshua fucking you for real.

“That’s more than okay with me,” you rasp, clearing your throat. “I’m feeling pretty empty myself and am dying to be stuffed.”

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usernameforaboredcat · 7 months

Text

Black & Red (Shanks X F!Reader X Mihawk) SMUT

Anonymous request (I got chu)

Just a simple day at the beach drinking turns into something way more hot and steamy than expected.

A long fic, have fun babes

Warning ⚠️: age-gap, threesome, groping, double penetration, deep throating, maybe some others that I forgot idk its sex ya know the type of shit youre signing up for.

“Shaaaanks, come on! It’s too early to drink, we’ll be up all night again”.

“Don’t worry about it so much sweetheart! It’ll be fun!”.

That’s the last coherent conversation I remember before getting shit faced and passing out on a beach with Shanks. No matter how many times I tell myself ‘you gotta stop doing this, I don’t care how hot he is I can’t be drinking this much’ but do I ever listen? No of course not! Have you see him? That man is so hot and fine, all I can do is easily submit to anything he asks. I mean it's not the first time he's easily made me submit to something, which ended in a lot of hookups or alleyway deepthroating. Hehe...

I awaken from my slumber as I feel myself being shaken. “Wakey wakey sweetheart”. I hear an all too familiar and soothing voice. I groan and snuggle more into his chest. “Nooo. You made me drink and gave me a hangover”. I mumble. “Does it make you feel better knowing that I have one too?”. He asks, running his fingers through my hair.

“A little”.

I yawn as I walk back to the cove the crew was camping at, coming back from some private business time…I had to pee. I see the crew already partying and drinking again. Seriously? “Hey! (Y/n)!”. I look towards Shanks, seeing him drinking with an unfamiliar man with a large sword sitting next to him, a long coat and a large hat. “Have you ever heard of the 7 warlords?”. Shanks asks me, the man turning to look at me. “Uh yeah…I’ve heard of them…”. I answer nervously, I think I already know where this is going before he can even finish. “This is Mihawk! An old buddy of mine! He’s one of the warlords”. He explains, using his free hand to usher me over.

I walk over to the two men, Shanks pulling me over to sit on his lap. "Come on (Y/n), don't be shy now and say hi!". He tells me, as if I'm a child. Sir, I'm 20. I turn to look at the warlord, man is he an attractive man. "Hello". I greet him. "Hello, young lady". He greets back. I turn to look up at Shanks, tugging on his shirt to draw his attention to me. "So what's this about? Why are we partying again?". I ask him, tilting my head slightly. He smile and laughs. "Ya know that Luffy kid I told you about? He finally got his first wanted poster!". He answers happily.

I remember him talking about that Luffy kid. Shanks told me how he met him years ago, the dumb little kid who cut his cheek and ate the gum gum fruit. He isn't any younger than me, the more I think about that the more it kinda makes me feel weird. Still, I'd like to meet him one day.

"Huh, look at him". I mutter under my breath, but I know Shanks heard me. As if the conversation is forgotten about, Shanks now holding out a filled cup of booz to me. "Enough yappin! Take a sip, dear". He orders me. 'Uh, I really don't wanna drink'. I take the cup from him, taking a sip from it. "Atta girl". He coos, his hand now sitting on my hip, rubbing up and down with his thumb. I feel a shiver runs down my spine, the feeling of his hand running straight to my core. He knows exactly what he's doing, he knows how to get my body going.

'God, I hate him'.

My breath quickens as I feel a jolt run through my body, whimpers slipping through my lips no matter how hard I try to hide them. "Ssshhh, not so loud baby". Shanks whispers into my ear, his finger not stopping it's abuse on my clit. I throw my head back into his board shoulder. "Sh-Shanks, pleeeease~". I whimper out. "Hm? Please what? Need me to fuck you already?". He asks in a deep tone, his hot breath down my neck. "I-hhh I!". I stumble on my words, needing him to give me just a second to cum. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Shanks". I feel my body freeze, but Shanks doesn't stop. "Oh, hey Mihawk". He pulls his hand away, my legs giving out and I collapse to the forest floor.

"What's up? You leaving already?". Shanks asks the other man. "I was thinking that, yes". Mihawk confirms. "Oh come on, you just got here. Why not have a little fun with (Y/n) and I? I don't mind sharing that pretty face". He offers the man. 'HUH!?'. I turn my head behind me, looking over to the men. I look over to Mihawk, seeing that he's already looking at me dead in the eyes with a hungry look. "You're too open with sharing your toys, Shanks". He comments, taking his sword off his back and setting it against a nearby tree. The two men walk over to me, Mihawk standing in front of me as I feel Shanks crouch behind me. "You don't mind, do you sweetheart?". Shanks asks me, pulling me back so my back is against his hard chest, using his hand to rub my chin. "N-No". I stutter out nervously, looking up into Mihawks almost glowing eyes.

Shanks chuckles as his hand goes down to my shirt, pulling it up to expose my bare chest. "Good girl~". He hums into my ear, nuzzling into my neck. I shiver and shut my eyes as Shanks's cold hand goes down to my chest, groping and grabbing at my tit. I let out a soft moan, feeling him twist and play with my nipple. Shanks's head rises once again, nibbling on my ear lobe. "Come on baby, show the war lord what that mouth of yours can do". He orders. I hum with a nod, finally opening my eyes to look up at the warlord.

I break eye contact to see a growing bulge in his pants, only half hard. I grab the hem of his pants, slowly pulling them down. His half hard shaft rises up slightly, hanging straight out from his body. I reach up and grab him by the base, Mihawk letting out a very quiet groan. I lean forward and close my lips over his tip, licking his tip. I look back up to look into Mihawks eyes, slowly moving my head back and forth as she stares down at me. "Oh don't try and ease me into, unless Shanks hasn’t taught you properly”. He comments in an unimpressive tone.

Shanks chuckles from behind me, his hand sneaking up to the back of my head. “She can take it, I have her working that throat of hers every night like the slut she is”. He responds, gripping my head and moving my head for me. I moan into Mohawks cock as Shanks moves my head for me, shoving me down on his cock more. I cough as I feel myself getting shoved deep down, feeling him deep down my throat. Shanks moves his hand away, but I keep the pace he set and continue to deep throat his cock. “That’s better”. Mihawk compliments. “Yeah, she’s a good girl, aren’t ya sweetheart”. Shanks chuckles, sliding his hand down my back. My body jolts when I feel Shanks’s hand back in my panties, running his finger through my wet folds.

My body shivers as I feel Shanks use a free finger to poke it in and out of my aching pussy, causing me to just need more friction. My body was already so close to being filled, but now we're back to square one. My body is tingling painfully, needing release finally. I start to moan painfully onto Mihawks cock, breathing through my nose quickens as tears build up in my eyes. I try to move my body, needing more than just the tip of Shanks's fingers inside me. "Shanks, your pet is getting restless". Mihawk tells the red head. Shanks chuckles. "I can tell, she's trying to suck my fingers in". He confirms. Mihawk then grips the back of my head aggressively, speeding up his pace and slamming down into my throat. "Don't worry dear, you can get fucked as much as you want once I'm finished". He tells me, his penis tip punching the back of my throat.

Shanks chuckles again. "Look at you, you'll get all the cock you want. I bet a whore like you is loving this". He whispers into my ear. "I can't wait to see you drenched with cum". He adds in a deeper tone, licking up my neck. "Take it, take Mihawks cum, take all the cum like I trained you to". I shut my eyes as tears spill from my eyes, struggling terribly to breath. My body feels like it's going to explode, ready to gush all over Shanks's hand. With a few twitches of his cock, Mihawk slams all the way down my throat his warm cum fills up my throat. I cough on the cum, gulping it down. Mihawk slowly pulls out his dick, sucking on the left to leave not a single drop. "Good slut". Shanks compliments. "You did train her good, I commend you that Shanks". Mihawk tells him. "Wait till you feel her pussy, perfection". Shanks respond.

Shanks pulls his hand away from me as I let out an annoyed whimper, pushing my body slightly to let my body fall to the ground on my hands and knees. I breath heavily as I try to catch my breath, my body shaking and loosing its mind from not be able to cum again. A cold hand on my ass makes me jump, I look lazily over my shoulder to see Mihawk kneeling behind me. I turn to look in front of me, looking up to see Shanks looking down at me with a smirk. He gently grabs my chin, rubbing it with his thumb as his smirk turns into a loving smile. "You're such a good girl, if I wasn't clingy I'd let people pay for them to fuck you. You're perfect mouth, pussy, ass, everything. Other men wish they could get one night with a goddess like you". He praises, his words going straight to my core. The mental image of getting fucked and covered in cum while Shanks watches, full bukaki as he just sits happily.

"Would you like that? Or would you rather some weak desperate men pay to watch me fuck you, show them how to really please a woman". He adds. That hit my core harder, Shanks cucking a guy. Some poor bastard watching Shanks fill and fuck my pussy full of cock and cum. I feel a warm tip rub against my folds, rubbing at my tip and poking at my hole. "Go ahead Mihawk, I wanna see the faces she makes when being filled by another man". He tells the other man. Then without warning, Mihawk easily slides his cock fully inside me. A whimpered moan escapes my lips, my legs shaking at the feeling of being filled finally. "Now isn't that a pretty face". Shanks points out, palming himself through his pants. "Sh-Shanks~". I whimper out, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "I need...yoooooou". I moan out, craving more. I struggle to keep my body steady as Mihawk ruthlessly pounds into my body, slamming deep inside me. It feels weird to have another cock inside me, being so used to Shanks monster in his pants. Mihawks length is kind of refreshing, feeling his tip slamming into my curvix.

Shanks chuckles as he looks down at my wanting face, eyes begging for something from him. "You really have been a whore all along, being stuffed with cock and still needing more". He hums. He sits up more, pulling his pants down and his cock smashing me in the face. "Go on then, take the cock you so desperately need". He tells me. He slides his cock into my mouth, my body quickly jolting back and forth. I moan onto Shanks's cock, breathing rapidly through my nose. I can't breath, my body is shaking so much. 'FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM AND WE'VE JUST STARTED! FUCK BUT I NEED TO CUM!'. I give in, moaning loudly as my body finally releases as my body shakes violently. Mihawk hisses, pounding faster. "What's wrong buddy? She cum and squeeze ya?". Shanks asks him. "Indeed, she's trying to strangle me". He responds, causing Shanks to laugh.

"Props to you, I would have cum at her clenching like that". He chuckles. "You're just weak". Mihawk comments. I'm surprised I can still comprehend what they're saying, my whole body is weak and my head is fuzzy. I can't go on, cumming and still being fucked is driving my body crazy. I can tell that I'm finally giving out, because now I can't hear properly what the two are saying. Everything stops, feeling arms wrap under my legs and I get hoisted up with Shanks's cock popping out my mouth. I feel my back press against Mihawks chest, him holding me out spread legged. I see Shanks standing in front of me, he strokes my cheek loving me. "Sh-Shanks...". I pant out. He pulls his hand away, letting me lean my head against Mihawks shoulder.

My body jolts, fulling waking up at the feeling of Shanks sliding into my insides. I pant at the pain, reaching to grip hard onto Shanks shoulder. "That's it, you can take it". Shanks reassures me in a soft tone. My body relaxes, feeling the two men filling and stretching me out. My body felt so stuffed, I thought I was going to rip in half. The feeling didn't get any better when the two started to thrust in sync, thankfully going slow on me. Every breath was a loud moan, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Their pace speeds up, my mouth drooling from them massing up my insides. The feeling is indescribable, being fucked hard and stuffed to the brink of ripping. I felt like I was gonna pass out, I don't even know if I could cum again.

Their paces speed up, going full speed in and out my pussy. I cry and scream out my moans, digging my nails so hard against Shanks's shoulders that I wouldn't be surprised if there was blood. I could feel my freedom apporting, feeling the two older men twitching and their thrusts growing sloppy to out of sync. Next minute, Shanks lets out a groan as he finally cums. He sits and stays there panting, staying inside me. Soon enough, Mihawk cums again for a second time. The two pull out of me, Mihawk moving me to be laying in his arms. I feel like I'm on the verge of passing out, my brain fuzzy and hazy. A warm hand strokes my face softly, a soft kiss on my forehead. "Good job baby, you can rest". Shanks soft voice luls me to sleep, I finally pass out in Mihawks arms.

[bonus]

The two older men walk out the forest and back onto the beach, the other pirates noticing the passed out younger girl in Mihawks arms. "Is she okay?". Benn asks. "Did something happen?". Yasopp asks. Shanks waves them off. "Don't worry she's all fine, just a little shaken up". He reassures. "Why? Did something happen?". Benn asks. Mihawk chimes in. "Just some scary monster".

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x yn #one piece x you #one piece smut #one piece shanks #one piece shanks x reader #one piece shanks x reader smut #one piece mihawk #one piece mihawk x reader #one piece x reader smut #red haired shanks #red haired shanks x reader #red haired shanks x reader smut #dracula mihawk #dracula mihawk x reader #dracula mihawk x reader smut

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katiexpunk · 4 months

Note

You may have done this before, I haven’t read all your work, but How about Joel and Tommy (or just Joel 😜) take you on a horse ride, out into the woods and end up having a fun time on the grass

Tell Me a Secret | Pairing Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Non, thank you so much for this request. I hope you enjoy this! I love getting requests from ya'll, makes my heart so happy.xx As a side note, this will be my final fic as an unmarried woman. My wedding is in less than a month (!!!!)

Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications

Word Count: 7.8K | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Warnings: References to canon typical violence. It's hinted that readers father was abusive. Death. Blood. Reader is an artist. Ellie/Sarah/Tommy/Maria and others are referenced in this. Ellie and Reader are friends. Alcohol. Angst. Horses. Pining. Oral (female receiving). Praise kink. Pet names. Emotional sex. Very unprotected sex. They fuck outside, but nobody is around. Joel makes a questionable choice in this one that invades readers privacy. Breeding kink if you squint. Creampie. Fingering. Lots of references to art and poetry. A surprise ending that might mean more later on... Immersibility: Reader has no physical descriptions apart from having hair, breasts, and a uterus. It is noted at one point that there is charcoal visible on her hands. No age gap is mentioned (make it your own). Creative Credits: the middle image of the graphic is a drawing by @kamal.classic.art on Instagram. The poem referenced at the end is by Olivia Ann Rose. The opening section is modified poetry from Brianna Pastor. Inspiration was pulled from the lake scene in The Princess Diaries 2. And shout out to our boi Leonardo da Vinci, cuz I reference the Mona Lisa.

It’s really easy to be angry.

Over the years, anger became so familiar to you that you had a difficult time differentiating between that and your sadness. Both felt equally daunting.

It’s difficult to work on your sadness with its roots are boiling with anger. Both don’t always look the way one might expect them to. Sometimes, the face of anger is neutral, a quiet rumble you don’t notice because it’s buried so deep.

That steady stream of anger and hurt seemed to trickle into every single thing that you did. You had become cold and numb to the reality of the world around you; an empty shell of who you once were.

And then you met Joel Miller.

He came along and started to nurture what you buried so deep that you eventually forgot what was even planted there.

And you did the same for him.

Like the sun, you elevated the ordinary with a simple touch. Your rays warmed the cockles of his heart he thought had gone so cold they could never be revived.

This is that story.

++++

It doesn’t take Ellie long to figure it out.

“Hey, give me that back!” You snap at her, attempting to pull the tattered notebook from her hands, but it’s pointless. Her tiny fingers must have been sumo wrestlers in another life, you wager. Putting space between both of your bodies by quickly walking backward, she locks eyes with you until her back is up against the makeshift bookshelf.

This is your favorite place in all of the Jackson – the makeshift library Maria started a few months back. It’s not much, but with your help, the collection is starting to grow. You’re quick to stuff books into your pack on raids and have summoned a handful of the townspeople to aid in this effort. It’s always quiet and peaceful; a stark contrast to the world outside the walls that keep you safe here.

Well, that was until a rather foul-mouthed 14-year-old named Ellie arrived in town. Despite your age difference, you two have become fast friends, even if she does annoy the shit out of you sometimes.

“Ellie, I am so serious right now, please give my notebook back,” you plead with her from across the room, your hands on your hips, a serious undertone to your voice.

“Why? Whatcha trying to hide so bad? Drawing a bunch of dicks or something?” she jokes.

When you don’t respond, her eyes widen in surprise. “Holy shit, dude. You are drawing a bunch of dicks, aren’t you!” she teases, resting the pads of her fingers in between the pages of the notebook, slightly parting the paper. All she’d have to do is move them a little and the pages would fall open, revealing your secrets faster than a Catholic at confession.

She starts to crack the spine of the notebook, but your voice calling out once more causes her pause. “No, wait, Ellie, stop,” you say a tad softer this time. “I’m not drawing a bunch of dicks, and even if I were, that’s not something you should be looking at – it’s…personal,” you respond, hoping the sincerity and softness you’re attempting to frost over the obvious bite of anger behind your voice will encourage her to listen.

She stares back at you, scanning your face up and down for a hint of the truth, thinking for a few moments.

“Fine,” she says. Your shoulders fall from your ears and the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding escapes from your lungs. She walks back over to you and extends her arm out, the notebook in hand, preparing to hand it over to you as if she’s some sort of General accepting a truce deal.

As you reach out to grab it, she lets it slip from her hands a few seconds too early. A nearly silent oops escapes her lips. The notebook falls to the floor with an audible thud, dropping as fast as a dead body, its pages falling open on both sides, like blood spilling on the floor.

Before you register what’s even happening, Ellie already has her knees on the floor, hovering over the open pages, a look of astonishment and delight on her face.

“Whoa – is that,” she asks, but before she can finish her sentence, you’re quickly snatching it up, snapping it closed with an audible thud. You both rise, and she’s looking at you, a smug smile of knowing on her face. Her smile grows like she’s just found some sort of secret treasure. “That was me, wasn’t it?” It’s a rhetorical question, she already knows the answer.

You consider lying, but fuck it, you’re in too deep at this point. Plus, she may be only 14, but she’s smart as a whip, and you know she’d be able to call your bullshit from a mile away. Besides, she already saw the damn thing.

“Yes, okay, Ellie. Fine,” you concede. “It’s you. I – I like to draw,” you admit sheepishly like you’re afraid of what might come if you say it out loud.

It’s not that you’re not proud of your drawings, you are. The only thing you can attribute to your unwillingness to share your hobby with the world is akin to a trauma response.

Memories of your father ripping up your first notebook of drawings, the one he found under your pillow when you were a teenager, flash through your mind. Goosebumps litter your body when you swear you can still hear his raspy voice, harsh from the burn of whiskey, telling you that drawing won’t pay the bills and to knock that shit off or he’ll beat it out of you. He wasn’t particularly a man of his word, but somehow, he managed to keep that one. You’re not sure when the anger started to creep in, but you think it might have been then. Watching your hard work darken and crumble in the fire almost hurt worse than the sear his belt left behind.

“You were reading your comic over there the other day,” you admit, nodding your head toward the little nook by the window. “The light was just right, and well…I don’t know, I just got inspired and figured I’d give drawing you a shot,” you admit, voice soft and shy.

“Well you’re pretty fucking good at it,” Ellie admits.

You shove it down, the spark of happiness her words ignite in you, and it works. For now.

“Yeah, whatever,” you respond, clutching your not-so-secret secret closer to your chest. You aren’t good at taking compliments; especially now, after everything that’s happened.

“Can I have it?” Ellie asks. She rolls her eyes for a second, before eventually adding a please to the end of her request. You remember her telling you a few weeks back that Joel has been working with her on manners. You’d only met him once, but as far as you could tell, he was the southern gentleman, wounded dog, not to be fucked with, but still the impossibly polite type of man. The type of man that would punch another guy in the bar for questioning a lady’s honor, or stab him in the kneecap for looking at his girl the wrong way.

You consider her request for a moment, before eventually deciding that since it is her likeness, she should be the one to have it. You crack open the book, being careful to hide the other pages from her view before the familiar sound of paper ripping fills the room. You’re careful to tear it in a straight line, close to the spine, so as not to ruin the drawing.

With her portrait in hand, you bargain, “You can have this under one condition. You can’t tell anyone about this.” Ellie gives a subtle nod as if to agree. You don’t notice her middle and index fingers crossed tightly behind her back when you hand it over.

“So you’re sure you don’t have anything super naughty in there?” Ellie teases.

“Alright kid, no more dick jokes or Joel is gonna choke me,” you chide, feeling heat creep up your cheeks. Wouldn’t that be quite the piece of jewelry; a Joel Miller hand necklace. The truth is that while you don’t have anything super naughty, you do have more than one drawing of her guardian hiding in your pages. You’re not sure of much anymore, but there is one thing you do know for certain – those drawings are something she can never, ever, see. Those drawings are something nobody can ever see.

Ellie was quick to discover your secret.

Good thing it was just one of them.

You drape your arm over her shoulder and walk out of the library together.

++++

It all happens so quickly from that moment on.

It’s only spring, yet the Jackson grapevine is in full bloom, carrying the fruits of your talent to pretty much the whole town. You can’t say you’re surprised. What did you expect from a 14-year-old with minimal entertainment options?

It starts with Ellie letting it slip to Maria while they’re washing the dishes from family dinner with her, Tommy, and Joel.

Maria lets it slip to Tommy.

Tommy lets it slip to Samantha, the town’s soapmaker.

Samantha lets it slip to Joey, the butcher.

Joey lets it slip to – well – pretty much everyone else. You wouldn’t have guessed the town's butcher would be such a gossip, but dead cattle don’t make great conversationalists. Before you know it, you’re accepting some sort of art deal over porridge in the dining hall like it’s a shady drug deal.

“Come on, think of how happy it will make people,” Maria pleads with you. “You only have to do as many as you want,” she adds, looking at you with kind eyes, the ones that are nearly impossible to say no to.

You stare back at her in silence, attempting to piece together a response in your mind, but your words may as well be a 1,000-piece single-color puzzle at this point.

“So many of us don’t have those memories anymore. Think of how much it will mean to people to be able to put a drawing of their family up on their walls once more, you know?” she says, laying it on thick. Like how it used to be is what she leaves out.

“Fine. I’ll do it,” you respond, dropping your spoon on the wooden table next to your half-eaten bowl of breakfast. You feign annoyance, but deep down, you’re excited about the opportunity. Scared shitless, but excited.

“Yeah? Great. Oh just wait until I tell Tommy, he’s going to be ecstatic,” she says. “Now finish up, can’t have any of that food going to waste,” she quips, before swinging her leg over the bench and adjusting the brim of the cowboy hat on her head as she walks away, a smug look on her face.

++++

In the following days and weeks, you find yourself immersed in the lives of the residents of Jackson. Setting up your makeshift easel from scrap wood you collected on patrol in living rooms, on front porches, and amidst picturesque landscapes.

The people, once reserved, slowly begin to open up to you as they share stories and anecdotes of their lives before. It’s sweet, you think – how chatty people get when they have nothing to do but sit there while you try your best to capture their likeness.

Some conversations are easier than others. Most of the time you just nod your head and let out occasional nods or grunts of agreement, too immersed in your work to listen to what they’re saying, but sometimes you find yourself so engrossed in their stories that the drawings take hours to complete.

As much as you learn about them, you rarely open up about yourself. Sometimes they ask, sometimes they don’t. Regardless, you feel like the woman you were before no longer exists, she was left to decay with the rest of your family back in Austin. You know she’s in there, buried deep inside, hiding behind a door of anger and tears. Sometimes she cries out, but you buried the key to that lock years ago. No getting out now.

As the portraits accumulate, so does a sense of connection and unity. You’re no longer an unknown. A threat against resources. When you first arrived in town, you did your best to make yourself useful and show people that you weren’t just dead weight. And it worked, or you think it worked anyway, but the past few weeks have caused a noticeable shift in the atmosphere. Before the apocalypse, you never really saw a place for your artwork or your talent. But now, you can see how it’s becoming a bridge, linking generations and weaving a tapestry of shared histories. Giving people something to cling to, something to hold on to, something to cherish once more.

Of all of the portraits you’ve done so far, your favorite is the one you did of Tommy and Maria. She hasn’t said anything yet, but from the way she placed her hand on her belly, and the way Tommy looked at her, it was pretty easy to guess. You did your best to capture their likeness, knowing it would likely be shown to generations to come. When you showed them the final result, Maria cried and hugged you tighter than you’ve been hugged in years. Their love was obvious – radiant and shiny. If anything were to make you believe in love again, wouldn’t seeing it right in front of your face be it? You try not to think about it too much when you realize it doesn’t.

You no longer have to walk the streets of Jackson, bouncing from place to place, alone. There’s always someone to talk to on your journey, or a comfortable silence paired with a subtle wave in the distance, or the occasional sound of a creaky screen door opening for you. Even before things went to shit, you never had this – community. With each finished portrait, you find yourself making a new friend.

You should be happy now. You know that. Your parasympathetic nervous system has had an opportunity to return to its normal state for the first time in years. You have the warmth of friends, and people like you. Like actually like you. They like what you’re doing, what you’re creating.

But you aren’t.

Because while you’re capturing the entire town's attention, you’re starting to realize you only care about attention when it’s from one person.

And unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to give two shits about you or what you create.

As you lay in bed that night, fidgeting with your necklace, you stare up at the ceiling and think about what started this whole infatuation in the first place. It was a drunken night, hardly anything. Not even a story worth repeating. You shouldn’t even be thinking about it. It was nothing.

But as you feel sleep calling you into its abyss, you remember the way his voice called your name that night and the heavy feeling of his gaze on your chest.

It was nothing.

Nothing.

That doesn’t stop you from dreaming about him that night.

++++

Being the town's only artist comes with its price. While most of the time you don’t mind the endless stream of hellos and requests for additional portraits, you’re not up for much conversation this morning.

You slept like absolute shit last night and decided that if you weren’t going to sleep through the night, you might as well be productive with your time. When your eyes fluttered closed thinking of what, and who, to draw, the image of Joel sipping a cup of coffee in the dining hall, reading an old Western book from your library, played on the screen of your heavy lids. You decided to put your feelings on paper and start a new portrait. After you woke up from your dream, probably around 3 am you guessed, you stayed up late enough to see the sun rise over the horizon, before eventually deciding that it was too late, early for most, to go to bed now.

Seeking solitude and shielding yourself from prying eyes, you make yourself at home in the stables. You perch on a weathered stool in the corner of the barn, perfectly positioned in the corner so your back is supported, and begin sketching the handsome grump. As if he was right in front of you, his features are regal; sharp jawline decorated with a salt and pepper beard, one of the patches faintly shaped like a heart, dark brown eyes that resemble those of a deer, the crinkled lines around his eyes and forehead that serve as proof of age. Arguably your favorite feature is his nose. Prominent, aquiline, like a bow that perfectly ties all of his facial features together. Joel Miller is one beautiful fucking man.

Completely immersed in your world, you lose track of time. You could have been sketching for twenty minutes or three hours, who’s to say. Exhaustion envelopes you in an embrace and you doze off in a peaceful slumber.

When Joel enters the stable for his morning shift, he catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye; perched up on a rickety old stool, head slumped over, resting on the wooden edge of the barn. Your arms are wrapped snuggly around your chest as if to keep yourself warm in the dewy morning air. As he approaches closer, treading carefully against the hay as if he were a cat trying to sneak up on its prey, he takes in the finer details of you peacefully asleep, blissfully unaware.

There’s charcoal on your hands, your lips are slightly parted and there’s a little glisten of drool pooling in the corner of your lips, and your hair slightly covers your face. Jesus, he thinks you’re gorgeous awake, but seeing you asleep – so vulnerable and tender – nearly causes his heart to skip a beat. He tries to ignore what it does to his cock. He knows you’re an artist, but with the way you look right now, hell, you might as well be the artwork, too.

He thinks he could stare at you for hours, but there’s something more pressing for him to look at first. He’s seen you carry your trusty notebook around, rarely ever setting it down, and certainly being very guarded when you have it cracked open around others – especially him. So when he sees it lying on the ground, he thinks…what could one look hurt? He doesn’t want to invade your privacy, but as the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. He’ll be satisfied once he knows what you’re hiding in there. Surely. One look, and he’ll wake you and that will be it.

After all, it’s just a peek.

He’s not quite sure what he expected, but this was most definitely not it. As if he were looking into a mirror, his reflection stares back at him from the dull matte of the pages. As he flips from one page to the next, he swears time stops altogether as he takes it in. Your secret.

As he scans the pages, something burns deep in the marrow of his bones, a fire and heat that exists only for you. Now that he knows your truth, he’s not sure he can stop what he does next. His large palm floats out to caress the underside of your jaw, and the pad of his thumb ghosts over the soft swell of your bottom lip. Before he lets himself get too carried away in his thoughts, he clears his throat.

“Mornin’,” a husky voice says, startling you. You all but launch into orbit and almost fall over like the stool, but the owner of the intruding voice grabs your elbow before your backside collides with the floor. You’re relieved to see that your saving grace is Joel, yet you’re burning with embarrassment at your clumsiness.

Joel clears his throat before speaking with his hand still grasping your elbow, “M’pologies, didn’t mean to startle ya, sweetheart.”

”Oh no, I was just…” you sputter out, still finding your bearings. He reluctantly removes you from his grip but not without letting his fingers trail across your skin as he lets go. The ghost of his touch is a noticeable one.

“Didn’t sleep well last night, I take it?” Joel asks, a softness to his voice.

“Afraid not,” you say, kicking your heel into the hay, trying your best to avoid his eyes so as not to spill all of your fucking guts. I was too busy thinking about you.

“You’re in luck, darlin’. I have just the thing to wake you up,” he says, “and ‘m not takin’ no for an answer,” he says with a wink.

“I’m sorry, am I speaking to Joel Miller? Have you been bitten? Are you feeling alright?” you joke, placing the back of your hand up to his forehead, a giant smile on your face.

“My reputation of being Jackson’s own Boo Radley precedes me, I see,” he jokes back.

You shoot him a look that says who the fuck is Boo Radley? Instead of giving you an explanation, he just chuckles like it’s an inside joke.

“Come on now, we’re goin’ for a ride,” he says with finality.

You try to ignore the heat that stirs low in your belly at the thought of riding with Joel Miller as he guides you deeper into the stables.

++++

The sun hangs high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the picturesque landscape of Jackson. Situated in front of Joel on the horse, you close your eyes and exhale all the air from your lungs. You hold your lack of breath for a moment, before feeling your lower belly rise, taking in the crisp air laced with the scent of wildflowers and fresh blades of grass in through your nostrils.

Joel is an easy-riding partner. He doesn’t say much, yet you feel secure in his presence with your back nestled up against his chest, his thick arms wrapped around you, his capable hands holding the reigns, guiding the horse through the scenic trail with ease. You rub your eyes for a moment before opening them to take in the breathtaking view of the snow-capped mountains far off in the distance, and the lush green meadows that surround you. You almost forgot beauty like this could exist.

Joel turns his head, following your gaze. A small smile tugs at the corners of his weathered lips as he agrees, "Looks like a good spot to take a break."

Guiding the horse toward the field, you both dismount and allow the horse to graze freely. Joel suddenly remembers he has a blanket tucked away in his saddlebag. He retrieves it and spreads it out in the clearing amidst the vibrant flowers.

Seated on the blanket, you unravel the satchel from over your shoulder and place it on the ground by your side while you simultaneously marvel at the beauty surrounding you. The sun plays hide-and-seek through the branches of nearby trees, creating dappled patterns on the ground. Joel settles beside you, gazing out at the open expanse.

As you bask in the splendor of the spring day, your attention fully absorbed by the vibrant beauty surrounding you, you inadvertently miss the subtle shift in Joel's focus. His gaze transitions from the scenic view to rest upon you. In a moment of silent admiration, he drinks in the essence of your being. His eyes trace the contours of your profile, lingering on the way the sunlight plays in your hair, transforming it into a golden halo that only seems to make his mouth water more.

He admires the view of you propped up on your elbows, eyes closed, heart center shining toward the sun, the swell of your breasts painted like a picture before him.

“Tell me your greatest desires,” he says.

As you open your eyes and turn to face him, as swift as the breeze you feel in your hair, you feel all of the air escape your lungs. Joel Miller is one beautiful fucking man. You’re momentarily lost in your own world as you admire the way he looks like this; relaxed, basking in the sun on a checkered blanket. His dark brown eyes are now a soft shade of amber, the silver streaks are a little more prominent in the sunlight, and the furrow of his brow has lessened.

“Alright. Tell me a secret” you respond, the corners of your lips threaten to turn up in a smile. You press up off your elbows and roll onto one on your side to face him.

“Isn’t that the same?” he asks, responding to your movement, mirroring it.

Now face-to-face, and chest-to-chest with him, inches only separating your bodies, you pause and let your eyes flint to his lips.

“Anyone can see your desires, no one knows what’s in your heart,” you say.

“Tell me something,” he says.

“I still dream of the taste of McDonald’s french fries,” you say, “and I’m not sure I know how to feel happiness anymore,” you say, as a matter a fact.

Your words reverb through his ears, and he stares at you in silence, unsure of how to respond.

“I used to be a contractor,” he admits, “and I had a daughter named Sarah.”

You look at him with soft, wide eyes. Pain is visible on your face, taking in what he’s yet to say. When you don’t respond, he adds, “She died in my arms on Outbreak day,” he admits, averting his gaze over your shoulder. His hands have somehow navigated to find a single blade of grass that he toys with in between his fingers.

“Fuck, Joel,” you pause in silence. Like your words could ever make up for his loss. Everyone had lost someone at this point, but the way he said it, you could tell it still felt fresh to him.

“It’s alright, Darlin’, next confession,” he says, obviously wanting to change the subject.

“Ellie,” you chuckle, but you don’t miss the way his eyes light up at the mention of her name. “She’s such a pain in my ass, but she’s probably one of my best friends right now,” you say. Like it should be embarrassing, you, an adult woman, friends with a 14-year-old.

“Yeah. Little bugger has her way of working her way under your skin, doesn’t she?” he says, bringing his attention back to the panoramic scene laid out in front of you. You notice the smile that graces his face. “Your turn,” you say, this time paying all of your attention to his profile as he stares out to the horizon.

“I saw your drawings,” he admits, even though every fiber of his being is telling him not to. Your smile fades from your face and your heart sinks. You swear the sun must have navigated light years closer to Earth from the way you feel your skin heat, your blood hot enough to melt bone. You might as well turn to liquid there, melting into Mother Earth.

“Wh–what? What do you mean?” you ask, your voice mostly a tremble.

“In the barn, this morning… when you were asleep. Your notebook fell to the ground, and well – I saw them,” he decides to leave out the part where he intentionally decided to take a peek, deciding it wasn’t worth arguing the ethics of it.

You’re nearly one with the core of the Earth, her heat drawing all of the moisture from your mouth, your tongue dry, briefly incapable of forming a response, before your brain lands on the following.

“You mean – you saw – yo,” you start to say before he interrupts you.

“Yeah, I did,” he admits, once again, a soft tone of honesty behind his voice.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is not happening. This is not happening.

Mortified, your whole body goes limp and the back of your head falls to the ground. You scrunch your eyes closed as tight as possible as if that might somehow wake you up from the nightmare that this scenario is. You bring your hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose and let yourself absorb all of the nasty and icky feelings of embarrassment that cross your brain.

When you open your eyes, you start “Joel, I can explai–” he cuts you off with the weight of his body pinning you in place, his lips pressed against yours in an intentional, yet gentle, kiss. It’s stationary at first like he’s just trying to get you to shut up, to save you from the danger that is your thoughts. With your eyes still wide open, you stare back and try to rationalize if this is really fucking happening right now.

You break the kiss for a moment and look up at him, “Joel, what are you doing?” you ask.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I haven’t overthought it like you’re about to,” he admits, staring back at you, “tell me you don’t want this,” he says, hoping you don’t. As if you could ever. When his question is met with no response, he takes that as a green light, and his soft lips once again find yours.

Your eyes flutter closed, and your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, your fingers interlacing behind his neck. He deepens the kiss with a moan and grinds his hips into yours, the heavy weight of his center pressing deep against yours ignites a firework display of nerves in your body. You can tell from the package that’s pressed up against you that he’s quite big. The strengthening of your touch is met with a soft mmm from his chest, as his heavy frame pins you tighter to the ground.

His lips stray from your lips, kissing over the razor edge of your jaw, finding their way to the nape of your neck. His hot breath and the weight of his strong and capable body make you feel weightless, despite the pressure he pushes on you.

He presses tender kisses to your pulse and trails them down to the hollow of your throat, causing your breathing to hitch in your throat. His wide tongue licks a long, flat stripe up your windpipe, and his teeth come together in a little nip on your chin. Fuck. You let out a little cry of unexpected pleasure at the sensation. He pins both of your arms high up above your head, and his mouth continues its relentless pursuit on the bare skin of your neck and exposed collarbones.

“Joel, please,” you beg, your vision foggy from the thrum of your blood pulsing through your veins at a rapid pace; your heart threatening to beat out of your chest.

“Gotta use your words for me, pretty girl, tell me what you want,” he responds, a low growl to his words.

He’s barely managed to touch you, yet, you choke out, “Need you,” you moan, “need you to touch me more, god, please,” you beg, your arms still pinned above your head. Satisfied, he releases his grip on your arms, and both of his palms find purchase on your center frame, just below your ribs. He kisses his way down from your throat, through the valley of your breasts, and over your belly, trailing the ghost of his lips to the soft plush below your navel.

He hooks his thumbs under the band of your pants, and deftly pulls them off, alongside your underwear. He continues kissing down the gash between your thighs and pauses once his mouth is centered on your glistening slit. His tongue darts out to lap at some of your slick and you swear all of your senses cross at the sensation of his tongue.

Fuck –,” you cry out as he licks a firm stripe up your pussy. Joel moans before making his tongue flat and massaging your clit with it. It’s so fucking good.

He sinks a thick middle finger into you, and your walls clamp around the welcomed intrusion. His finger grazes against the soft spongy spot inside you that feels so good, and he works it in and out of you before adding another finger, twisting and working them both into you with precision. You’re so close. You choke out a moan in response, enjoying the sensation of his long and thick fingers rubbing against your walls as his tongue makes tight circles around your sensitive clit.

You pull at your nipple through your shirt with one hand and hold on to the top of his head, his hair entangled between your fingers as you attempt to hold on to him, an anchor to keep you from floating away, and he devours you.

His fingers thrust faster, his mouth firm on your throbbing bud, and you’re so close. You wail out, and the slurping groans that come from Joel are fucking primal and filthy.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he says, his words barely audible with his mouth on your puffy lips, “want you to come,” he moans. “Come on pretty girl, I’ve got you – let me have it, soak my face.”

His dirty talk is all you need. "Yes, oh my God – Yes! Joel, fuck, I'm coming, don’t stop," you cry, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, your chest hot. Your vision goes white as you release yourself to him. Your back arches and your legs flex; your stomach feels like it’s being sucked into itself, and Joel works you through it, lapping up your come.

He rises from between your legs, his beard slick with your release, and smiles at you. As satisfied as you are at the moment, he’s the one that looks it. As much as he would love to make you come multiple times under his tongue for hours, to savor your sweetness like it was the last strawberry on earth, he’s starving for it.

He makes quick work of undoing his belt and jeans, before sliding them off his legs to free himself. Gripping his heavy cock in his hand, he positions himself at your entrance and pushes just the tip in, wishing he were less riled up, less desperate for the warmth of your body, but he finds comfort in knowing you’re right at that line with him, begging to be filled.

“Need you,” you beg, your doe eyes looking up at him. He’s had many people beg for things from him – supplies, food, their life, but you, god, there’s something about you, split open and begging for his cock that he can’t say no to.

He smiles, and slides all the way in, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. He buries his cock deep inside you, to the hilt, so deep you can feel the tickle of the dark hairs that outline the base of it against your clit. Your pussy is so wet and tight, and holy – “fuck me, baby,” he moans, thrusting his hips out of you just barely before shoving them forward; the stretch of him is a delicious slow burn.

“Choking my cock so fucking good, baby. So good,” he moans before he begins to set a slow rhythm with his movements, letting you both adjust to the sensation. He praises your name and his breath catches on your collarbone, and he sucks a small mark there as he fucks in and out of you. When you whine for more, more of this, and more of him, this time he’s the one who’s lost for words. He might not know what to say, but his body responds in kindness, his cock thrusting in and out of you with a slow drag that drives you wild. All he can do is admire the beauty that you are under him, an angel on earth making a sweet, sweet mess, all for him. Just for him.

“Mmm, God, Joel – ‘m gonna, fuck, Joel, – right there –” you cry up to the sky above you, the clouds in the sky witness to your pleasure. He knows his cock is enough to get you there, but it’s not enough, not to him. Putting all of his body weight into his left arm, being sure not to crush you, he drags his right hand out from under his weight and it lands to cup your pussy; already so wet and so full. His fingers extend and find a home on your clit, and he begins rubbing tight circles on your aching bud in a way that makes you swear it must be nighttime from the stars you’re seeing.

“Here, baby?” his fingers continue their relentless pursuit of your clit, and he bucks his hips harder. He’s rewarded with the glorious sound of your moans reaching an octave that makes his cock twitch a little harder inside of you, “Jesus, sweetheart – gonna make me come like a teenager if you keep clenching like that, gripping me so fuckin’ tight,” he groans, an animalistic sound emanating from his chest.

“Joel, I’m gonna come –”

“I can tell, baby – clenchin’ so hard around me, want you to give me your all,” he demands, as he grabs your hair and tells himself not to come with you, too soon.

“No,” you choke out, staving off your orgasm. He stops his thrusts for a brief second, “What?” he asks, a bit bewildered. At this point you’re both a tangled mess of limbs, sweat beading on your foreheads, chests heaving. You intertwine your hands through his hair and gently pull at it as you look him deep in the eyes, “I want to come,” you promise, “I just want to ride you while I do it,” you admit.

You pulse around his cock at the confession, and with your truth still lingering on your lips, Joel pulls out and flips around so he's on his back. He steadies himself by the base and holds his cock straight up for you. You rise and position yourself over his center; you line yourself up against him while he cups your cheek with the other hand, “take your seat, pretty girl,” he says in a tone that’s just shy of a beg, and you do, feeling yourself slowly sink onto every inch of him. Your action elicits a throaty groan from him. Your eyes once again glaze over at the sensation of him so deep inside of you, so big, so deep. The stretch of him shoves out every other thought you can muster until all that’s left are thoughts of him in your brain.

In an attempt to get a better angle, he shifts his upper body up onto his forearms, as you continue to grind your hips into him. Both of your arms wrap around his neck, and you use the strength of them to pull him closer into your chest as you continue to slowly grind your cunt into him. You swear you can feel him in your lungs, and with the way your clit grinds against his skin, you’re nearly there, nearly gone.

A weird combination of emotions pools in your belly, part pleasure, part something else. You feel it creeping up your throat, clawing up the back of it like it’s manifesting its reality before it manages to surface. Heat pricks in your tear ducts, and before you know it, it’s such a big, bold feeling – a lion in a cage that won’t be tamed. Simultaneously, you feel a familiar tug at your navel, like a rubber band, stretched to its capacity, on the verge of a snap.

The orgasm that tears through you is so epic it causes your head to fall back, and your eyes to roll to the back of your head, your vision going static white. Your lower body shudders against his thrusts, and your inner muscles clamp hard around his cock as he fucks you through it. You convulse around him, doing your best to ride his thrusts and contribute as your whole body trembles. With tears streaming down your face, you press your lips against him. He wraps both of his arms tight around your chest, pinning you close to his heart, meanwhile spearing you with his cock. His thrusts stop for a moment, and he looks up at you, both hands coming to grip the sides of your face.

“Why are you crying baby,” he asks with genuine concern in his voice.

“You’re just – so god damn beautiful, Joel,” you admit, and your sobs come a little harder. If this were pre-apocalypse, you might be mortified by the fact that you were sobbing for a man you hardly know, all while riding his cock, but it’s not. You rest your forehead against his and let the tears continue to fall, a handful of them dropping to his cheeks. Your hand comes up to cup his face, and one of his hands leaves your face, trailing down to gently grab at your wrist in comfort. “No, baby. That’s you,” he says, slowly continuing to fuck into you with a slow grind.

“My perfect girl, I’ve got you, baby, you’re safe. I’ve got you,” he says, as he holds you and fucks you with such passion and intentionality. He fucks all of the love you haven’t let yourself feel in decades back into you. His cock fills every gap that has been left unfilled by every wrongdoing, every terrible, bad thing. He holds you like it isn’t the end of the world, but rather the beginning. He fucks you like his cock alone could fix everything, and at this moment, you’re confident it just might.

Still riding him, a soft “please,” leaves your lips. “Please use me,” you say, sinking your pussy down further onto him, so tight you can feel the tip of him pushing down on your cervix. “Want your come, Joel – need it, need it so much,” you beg, and oh god, he’s so fucked.

Joel was already on the crest of his release a long time ago, but here you are – utterly fucked out, riding him, and begging for his come. He’s a smart man, he knows he shouldn’t, but – you tug at his hair harder, and ride him for all you’re worth. “Fuck me, baby,” he moans, alongside a long slew of your name and other profanities, he only has so much resolve left, a resolve that’s slowly crumbling with each drag of your wet cunt up and down his cock.

You press your lips to his once again and he feels his balls tighten. The litany of pleas and the taste of your salty tears is what undoes him. Buried deep inside of you, he comes harder than he has in decades, spilling hot and deep inside of you. He fills you up with all he’s worth, painting your insides with white hot ropes of his seed. Normally you’re the artist, but right now, you’re his canvas, his fucking Mona Lisa.

Joel grunts and you collectively still your movements. He holds you close as he waits for the aftershocks and twitches to still, still plugging you, keeping all of his spend deep inside of you. He plants soft kisses all over your face and neck and caresses your hair. You stay like this for what could be hours, minutes, days. Time is a construct you have no concept of right now.

After a few minutes, he groans. Pulling out is always the hardest thing to do. “Gonna get off you now,” you say softly, planting a soft kiss on his lips, as you lift your hips and swing your leg over his body. Your pussy whines at the lack of something to grip around. A rush of his come dribbles out of you onto your inner thigh, but you don’t pay any attention to it. You roll over onto your back, and he does the same. As you both lay there, he grabs your hand and squeezes it tight. You’re not sure what time it is now, but by the color of the sky, you guess it’s late afternoon at this point.

“We should get back,” you say, staring up at the sky, watching the clouds make their creations.

“Yeah,” he admits, only looking at you. When you avert your gaze from the sky to look at him, you get deja vu as you take in the sight of Joel Miller, his tossed curls and chocolate eyes, and you swear you’ve seen this sight before. Maybe in a dream.

You commit the sight to memory, promising yourself to draw it later.

“Will you sit for a portrait with me?” you ask, voice soft, once again turning to face him, but this time it’s different.

“Only if you promise to go for a ride with me again,” he admits, and you smile, a heat creeping up to your cheeks.

“Deal,” you promise.

You both lay there for what could be hours or minutes, you’re not sure. But as the sun looks like it’s about to dip below the horizon, you both decide it’s time to head back. You both get dressed, and he helps you onto the horse. You both leave your perfect little meadow, knowing that it will be there for you to discover again and again.

On the ride back, you reflect on a poem you remember reading years ago.

There are two kinds of people in this world, those who see the ending, and those who see the beginning.

And after years of living in the ending, you’re ready to let the girl who you were before out of her prison. Joel undid the lock, all you had to do was let her see the light of day once more.

A new beginning.

You and Joel ride back in blissful silence.

Once on the outskirts of Jackson, Joel simply says, “Maybe we should invite Tommy next time.”

But that’s a different notebook.

END

Tags: @endlessthxxghts @sydneyinacoma @theoasisofthings @pedrostories @meabhogr @bastardmandennis @untamedheart81 @lavema @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @dugiioh @nervoushottee @milly-louise @ghostwritesthings @josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @peachmy @survivingandenduring @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @ohheypedrito @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro @amyispxnk @paleidiot @brittmb115 @ghostwritesthings @kulekehe @darkheartgatita @goldenhxurs @morallyinept @tobesolovelysstuff @notsosecretspy @alokaerza @ro-nahime-things @gwendibleywrites @morgaussy @missladym1981

As always, feel free to let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list, or removed (even if we're moots, no hard feelings). I'll still be using my tag list for now, but I just started a notifs blog, so will be transitioning to that eventually. Please follow @katiexpunkupdates to get notified when I post fics.xx

#joel miller smut #joel miler x fem!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller tlou #the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #katiexpunk answers #pedrohub #pedro pascal #pedrostories

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electrozeistyking · 2 months

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I definitely had a lot more fun behind the scenes with Never Be Alone than I did with She's Gone. So here's the sillies, and some notes.

This is a guide video I made in cause I either forgot how I was rendering it, or I want to make a comic using this style again. I used Panel 3 because it was the original first panel. There is no audio, so you don't need to worry about unmuting it.

I did this with the flats for Panel 2 because it reminded me of a drawing featured in one of my earliest MD posts. This quote has had me in a choke-hold ever since I made it (by the way, I named that drawing I mentioned: "Heyyy Biiitch!").

I wanted to make sure a few panels in this comic looked right, so I drew them with my finger (because I wanted to and I felt like it). N's face looks so derpy here and that's by choice.

I made this because SolverUzi looked like she was accusingly pointing at N. The Solver does seem petty to me, so I feel like It'd do this. Fun fact, that's why It's wearing Uzi's face and why It didn't heal her hand: just so It can rub salt in N's wounds and call him "big brother" like Cyn does to SERIOUSLY fuck with him.

Pre-Gaussian Blur on the dialogue! This is another panel I drew with my finger to ensure it'd look right later on. The "BASICALLY HIGH AS BALLS" note was added because of his face. It's actually sad in context of the comic, seeing as this is one of the few moments where N genuinely smiles.

TESSA FOR THE WIN, BABY! I made this because I said "Whoa, suddenly Tessa!" at one point while working on this panel. As for the "Chekhov's stabby stick" part... I mean, come on. There was a closeup of that blade for approximately two seconds. If that's not a surprise tool they can use for later, I don't know what is.

There is no reason for this one beyond "I thought it was funny." It just exists and there's nothing we can do about it.

Imagine if I actually went with either this quote or "Well, that could've been a whole lot worse." I had to pick between them for a sillier take on this panel, but imagine if Tessa ACTUALLY said "Well, shit" after all that?

Anyway, that's all the sillies and the notes! :D

#solveruzi au #murder drones #murder drones n #murder drones uzi #the absolutesolver #tessa james elliott #never be alone comic #zeisty’s goofs

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wosowrites · 10 months

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One Time Won’t Hurt (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

warnings: ⚠️smut smut smut. like… loads of it⚠️

prompt: in which you and alexia try to convince each other that one time won’t hurt, but it doesn’t end up being one time.

a/n: this is so bad but i wanted to get something out for u guys

Bodies tangled, lips a mess, hands feeling, touching, exploring, hips grinding, loud moaning. And that was all before clothes even came off. "One time," you exhaled into her lips, pressing your foreheads together and letting your breath get mixed. "One time won’t hurt," she added, putting her hands on your ass and pushing you impossibly closer into her.

You audibly whimpered and then gasped as she started kissing your neck. Alexia moved aside the strap of your shirt and then your bra, kissing your shoulder.

You breathed out, digging your nails into her back and moaning into her ear. "Yeah. One time," your cried out.

Five hours earlier

Alexia, Mapi, Ingrid, Sandra, Patri, Keira and Lucy were sitting in your apparement, having wine, cheeses, charcuterie and other snacks. You were all talking, laughing and having fun. Only issue was your spanish wasn’t great and although you tried to concentrate and really understand what they were saying, you were mostly just exchanging lost looks with Keira.

Eventually, you got up and went into the kitchen to open another bottle of rosé. Keira followed suite.

"Jesus. I don’t know what they’re saying. I heard my name and they all looked at me and laughed and I did too but I do not know what they said," you sighed. "I mean we take spanish classes like three times a week and then in real life they talk so speedy it just-" you started ranting. "They said you were clumsy during training today," Keira said, popping open a bottle of champagne. "I was gonna open wine, and how did you get that?" you asked her, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms. "Okay so maybe i’m becoming able to pick up sentences here and there…" she said. "No. No, no, I can not be the only non spanish speaker on the team Kei. I’m cutting you off from spanish lessons!" you groaned, walking into the living room.

You spent the rest of the gathering zoned out on Alexia. She was sitting with her legs slighting open and her arms crossed and all you could think about was how beautiful she would look in that position minute her clothing.

At 11:00, people started to leave which you were silently grateful as you were tired and honestly feeling left out even though that wasn’t the intention of the girls whatsoever.

You had moved to spain six months ago and had been playing for Barca since the January transfer window. You loved the style of play here and almost everything about it, but you did feel like an outsider.

You bid goodbye to the girls and then let yourself fall on the couch. You sighed heavily, your sigh turning into a tremble as you felt tears come to your eyes. Moving away from england had been harder than you anticipated. You heard movement behind you and shot up to your feet. Alexia stood in the doorway of the washroom. "Sorry, oh, everyone’s gone," she said, looking around. You swiped at your cheeks and nodded. "Uhm, yeah. Sorry I completely forgot you were in there," you said. "It’s okay, I ended up getting a call from Ona so I was in there for a while," she said. "Are you okay y/n/n? You look-"

"Spain is hard," you answered, not wanting to draw out the conversation longer than necessary. "What do you mean?" she asked, sitting down next to you. "I mean that I don’t know what you guys are saying. I pretend I do but I really don’t. And I feel like I’m not good enough to play here," you sighed, putting your head in your hands and resting your elbows on your knees.

"Don’t think that. You are one of the most brilliant players i’ve ever seen. And as for spanish, ditch your tutor. I’ll teach you for free," she said, brushing her fingers through your hair.

And then your feelings of sadness were gone and all you felt was an extreme need for Alexia to be under you.

You straightened up and looked into her eyes. And then you stood up and walked into the kitchen. You poured yourself a glass of water and downed it. Alexia stood up and gently walked towards you. Her movements were careful, calm and composed. But the last thing you wanted was careful, calm, and composed. You wanted loud, harsh and possessive.

So that’s what you did. You spun around and almost charged towards her. She looked taken aback but also turned on. You placed your hands on her waist and backed her up into the wall with a loud thud. You moved your hands up and down her hips before squeezing her waist. "Is this okay? Because I don’t want soft and nice. And if that’s what you want tonight I don’t want to push you," you said, looking into her eyes.

"Do whatever you want with me," she moaned.

You audibly whimpered and then gasped as she started kissing your neck. Alexia moved aside the strap of your shirt and then your bra, kissing your shoulder.

You breathed out, digging your nails into her back and moaning into her ear. "Yeah. One time," your cried out.

"Oh i’ll make it hurt," she whispered to you. And although her words made you want to scream of pleasure, you wanted to be in charge.

You lifted Alexia’s legs to wrap around your waist and carried her into the bedroom, attacking her lips and making sure to leave them bruised and swollen. You pushed your stomach against her pussy, wanting her to feel the temptation at her core before you gave her any kind of relief.

You dropped her on the bed and then towered over her. You took a pause to pull off the shirt you were wearing, never looking away from her. You looked straight into her eyes but she was staring at your and, your tits peaking through your bra and the way your arms looked so strong. A crack of thunder echoed outside and the brief thought of how Mapi and Ingrid, who had walked to your appartement, we’re probably stuck in the rain while you were standing over the most beautiful woman in the world.

You snapped out of your trance and looked at her hungrily. You un buttoned her shirt, wanting to be rough but knowing very well her shirt was silk and she would kill you if you broke it. Or at least that’s what you thought. "Fuck just rip it off. Rip it off y/n," she groaned. You did as she wanted, grabbing the shirt above the buttons you had undone and ripping it apart. She shrugged it off and you unbuttoned her pants and pulled them off. You then quickly abandoned your own pants and panties. You pulled off her own panties and then unclipped her bra and your own.

The sight of her was intoxicating. The shape of her breast, the little birth mark just under the left one. "You’re fucking hot," you growled at her. You were much more the kind of person to call girls beautiful but today was a different case. You had one night with her and you would make the most of it. Slowly, you placed yourself on your knees so that your core was over hers. You flattened your body on top of hers while supporting your upper body with your hands at her sides.

You started your attack on her neck by kissing it roughly, sucking it and then nipping at all her sensitive spots.

Alexia was a mess within seconds. Groaning at your touch and screaming when you would randomly collide your knee with her clit. Dripping all over her, you positioned yourself so that her left leg was wrapped around your waist and your pussies rubbed together. You slipped the slow stage and went right into grinding onto her. "Fuck, you’re so perfect," you moaned into her ear, feeling her nails digging into your back. "I thought you were going to be mean," she huffed, dragging her nails down your back. "Rough, not mean," you said to her.

With one last push onto her she came first, moaning your name and crying of pleasure.

You came soon after, your brain fuzzy, your body ecstatic. You didn’t want to push your luck with Alexia, so you let yourself fall beside her. "You okay?" you asked her, your bare chest heaving. "More than. Are you?" she asked. "So okay," you smiled. "I knew you were soft. You’ve always been soft," she said, turning on her side. "Maybe only for you," you giggled.

Needless to say, it didn’t happen just once.

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #alexia putellas

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imrllytootiredforthis · 11 months

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Like a siren's call

pairing: beomgyu x vampire reader

summary: your voice is sultry, smooth in the kind of way only a vampire’s is. like a siren calling to the sailor. but you’re not completely sure who the siren is at this point,

OR beomgyu goes to a vampire bar in hopes of fulfilling his depraved fantasies

warnings: dom reader, sub beomgyu, biting, blood drinking (it is vampire so what do you expect?), handjob, exhibitionism, reader calls gyu 'little lamb', fingering (m receiving), crying, kissing with blood in mouth (?), gyu in a skirt, possibly more i forgot

word count: 7k

a/n: finally i had time to finish this, from the teaser here, there are a few tiny little changes from the beginning but nothing major. anyway, please ignore my horrible editing skills and feedback is always welcomed, i hope you all enjoy!

He sits alone at the bar. You can only speculate why, with his pretty face and his pretty body it was a wonder he wasn't responding to the hungry eyes eating him up; including your own, unfortunately.

He seems bored, disinterested as he swirls the liquid around in his glass mindlessly.

Too bad, really. You could really bring some life (heh) to his night if he let you. You'd gladly take on the challenge. He was exactly the reason you’d come here tonight.

For him. For his type.

Nothing piqued your interest like the way he held himself. How he looked innocent and pure in an alluring kind of way despite his appearance, which spoke quite the opposite. His features feminine and gentle in a way that drove you wild.

He caught the eye immediately with glittery makeup that shimmered in the strobing lights of the club; drawing in the attention of passersbys like a siren, eyes stuck on him for the brief moment before they continued on with their night.

With the way plenty had looked at him you were surprised that no one had approached him yet. You were even more surprised that you hadn’t gotten up already.

Something inside of you told you to wait though, told you to play a little with him, make him work for it. Something you couldn’t quite place screamed that he often got what he wanted-and you had never one to play with your meal but just maybe once it would be a bit of fun.

With a little bit a vivid imagination and a special something you'd told the bartender to slip into your drink you could practically see it. How much more gorgeous he would look when he begged, with tears in his eyes too, cheeks flushed.

Tongue swiping over your teeth, you wonder if he's here for what you assume he is. To fulfill the reason that you came here tonight...or if your fangs would send him running in the opposite direction.

Who were you kidding though?

He's obviously here for a reason and with the way he's only leisurely sipping the drink in his hand you doubt it's only for that. You hope it's not only for that.

Crazy hot and seductive as shit, hopefully by choice, all you've been wanting all night was for him to look at you. He hasn't though and you're beginning to wonder if you should cut your losses and call it a night.

It's not common for you to be this...infatuated with a human but there's something different about him, something special that you can't shake.

And you only realize that your stare is so obvious, so shameless when he can feel it from across the bar, looking up so his eyes catch on your own.

He stiffens in his seat, looking startled but certainly not uncomfortable by any means. Flickering from your eyes to your mouth and then down to the rest of you, he takes it all in with another sip.

And ever so slowly you allow yourself to do the same, for probably the millionth time tonight already. Gaze dragging over the length his body, appreciating every little thing as they trail lower and lower.

He’s gorgeous, for a human and for a vampire as well; he clearly relishes in knowing the fact, with little details that only accentuate it.

A choker that sits snug against the smooth skin of his throat. One of the cute pink ones with the little metal heart placed in the front. Pale, unmarked skin moving beneath it, throat bobbing as he takes chugs down the rest of his drink and calls for another. Skin that's practically begging to be claimed.

By you? Well, only if the pretty thing would let you.

Really, it's more of a question of what you wouldn't do to him if he would let you.

The barely noticeable detail on the short skirt he’s wearing stands out to you. It's definitely not the length of it that calls your attention to it. The thing nearly short enough to be called scandalous but just breaks as passing with society’s expectations.

And lastly, but very certainly not in the least when it comes to this human, the knee-high boots make up for the length of his skirt as well as the thigh highs he’s clearly wearing underneath, little frills peeking out from where they end. Almost obsessively, your eyes rake down the delicious sliver of thigh that they reveal.

He focuses back at you now, looking like he expects for you to look ashamed at being caught, after all, you were boring holes into him.

But to his surprise, you don’t. You hold steady and continue your unabashed stare.

He flushes, as pretty as the rest of him, face downturned to the bar, hair falling just so.

He tugs a lip between his lips, perhaps unconsciously or maybe not. The mischievous twinkle in his eye argues for the latter.

You’d never excelled at understanding human emotions, much less read them off a pretty human boy’s face.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

—

Your eyes. The deep shade of crimson they take on. The exact colour of blood. The exact colour of the essence that runs just beneath his skin.

They should really scare him more than anything.

They should make his skin crawl and make him feel the urge to run for the hills. Away from you. Away from everything that you could do to him if you wanted to.

The things that he wants you to do to him. But that's really not the point.

That's the first thing Beomgyu notices.

The way they bore into him, the crimson darkening by several shades to an entirely new kind of red. His skin crawls, invisible bugs scurrying over his body. Heat swells, filling him up to the brim-did they turn the heat up in here? They had to have turned the heat up.

Goosebumps break across the exposed skin of his thigh, a shiver runs up his spine, zinging him but not for the reasons they should.

You look away all too soon, shifting your focus to the bartender in front of you, leaving Beomgyu feeling weirdly cold once again.

He was kind of hoping you’d approach him. Sure, he could approach you, he would’ve but he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was more prey than hunter. After all, why else would he be here?

You’re gorgeous, all skin and grace, seductive while you playfully roll your eyes at the man in front of you. Your lips curl up into a smile and there they are.

Your fangs. Perfect ivory and considerably long, he could only imagine how deep they would bury inside his skin. How good they would feel-how good he’d heard they’d feel at least.

Beomgyu wondered how it would feel, how much it would hurt before everything else would take over, he wasn’t particularly against pain so that wasn’t much issue. He wondered how your lips would taste, how he’d taste to you.

Human blood tasted and smelt different to every vampire, some more desirable, some less. He hoped you found him desirable, and with the way you’d looked at him, dark and intense and hungry.

The amber liquid in his glass burns down his throat but makes his body feel all the less tense, all the more free. This was his second and last drink of the night. He’d heard it was better to stay mostly sober for these kinds of things. There was no saying what someone’s intentions could be and he didn’t want to turn up dead in the alley next door tomorrow.

Besides, even if this was his second day coming here and still, he hadn't been approached, his hopes of something happening tonight weren’t completely squashed yet.

Not with the way he could feel your eyes on him again, not subtle in the least, shameless in a way that drove him a touch insane.

His thighs rub together, trying to quell the heat lighting between them. Welcoming and also trying to reject the thought of how you would look at him, just like that, in a different kind of setting.

Beomgyu has no idea how, but you seem to notice the imperceptible movement, eyes flickering down to watch as your tongue peeks out to wet your lips.

He sits up straighter, flustered by the look, looking away and hoping you don't somehow notice the blush flooding his face. Using the opportunity to survey the busy venue.

It was definitely one of the more popular blood bars in the city, one of the better funded ones and the patrons only proved it. Humans and vampires alike dressed lavishly, screaming of an old kind of wealth. Showy-offy in a way that begged the eye not to look away.

The people here were certainly well off and that was obvious. Practically dripping in jewels and riches, many scantily clad and wearing nearly nothing at all, yet still looking expensive.

He was glad that he’d gone with his gut to overdo instead of underdo. His roommate had frowned when he saw Beomgyu leaving the apartment, asking him if that was really what he was wearing.

Beomgyu had never taken much mind to being slut-shamed, if anything that meant that the skirt was just the right length but these words almost made him turn back to his room and change into something more 'suitable'.

He's glad he didn't. He fits in more like this and the outfit, as well as the makeup certainly garnered its fair-share of wanted attention.

“Can I get you anything?”

The bartender was a tall man, lithe and nearly able to pass as a human before his winning customer service smile revealed the fangs hidden just beneath his lips.

“No, I’m good, thank you.”

The man-vampire followed Beomgyu's line of sight, settling on you. "Is there anything else I can get you? Perhaps a name or a number?"

Beomgyu looked back at him, slightly horrified at the thought. "No!" he cleared his throat in an attempt to cover the outburst. "Uh-no, no, that's okay. I'm good, really."

He smiled politely and the bartender nodded, "Okay then just call me over then if you need anything else."

His eyes were back on you the second he was gone. But you haven't looked back yet, instead talking with the other bartender across.

Beomgyu can’t help but find himself slightly disappointed.

His friend Yeonjun had recommended he come to this place. Technically Yeonjun’s partner had.

He had been pleasantly surprised to find that Yeonjun was dating someone when he saw him after all these years. He was even more shocked to find out that he was dating a vampire. He was never that close to Yeonjun but his mom was friends with Beomgyu’s and he certainly remembered his immense fear of vampires from then.

People could change though of course and Beomgyu was never one to judge especially on the topic, he wondered but didn't care enough to ask.

The only real reason that they had rekindled was because Beomgyu had just moved to the area and Yeonjun needed someone else to pay the rent. On those terms an easy arrangement was made.

He quickly moved in with the two of them. It wasn’t the best situation that he could find himself in but certainly wasn’t a bad one.

Their apartment was small to have three people living in it and the walls were much too thin for the activities that his two roommates engaged in (Yeonjun really was too loud for his own good) but otherwise they were okay roommates and showed him around the city like his own personal tourguides.

Either way, Beomgyu started his search to get out of there pretty quickly. He did like Yeonjun, despite the fact that he's a little bit too uptight and a little bit too overbearing, he found his partner to be quite interesting.

They were the one to tell him about this place, an exclusively night bar where they worked. It was supposed to be quiet and relatively safe compared to some of the other places like this in the city, partially because of the rich patrons.

It was one of the clubs for vampires who wanted to feed and humans that wanted to be fed from and Beomgyu couldn’t help the way his interest was piqued.

He’d always had a weird obsession with their kind. It was an embarrassing subject for him. He’d grown up in a small town where the topic was taboo at least, and being shunned from the community at worst. The idea of engaging with vampires was worse than watching porn or going to the strip club, more like the type of thing that parents would kick their children for thinking about.

It was one of the reasons he was so surprised that Yeonjun had decided to date one.

In the bigger cities though, like this one, vampires were more common and people were less afraid. There was less stigma to stereotypes and misconceptions than the small towns had.

But it was odd that so quickly his perception had changed. He’d thought he’d gotten over it a long time ago, thought that it had been quelled ever since that documentary in school about "The Truth About Vampires-Parasites! Soulless bloodsuckers!". It scared the shit out of him and from then on he vowed that he wouldn't be caught dead searching up vampire porn on his laptop ever again.

Until he got here. Beomgyu couldn’t help the way his body heated up when Yeonjun told him about how it felt to be drunk from. How it felt down from the little prick of pain when their fangs entered the skin to how intoxicating, how high-inducing and euphoric it felt.

It led to the fantasy reappearing in his dreams the next night and a very tense silence between the him and Yeonjun the next day as they nursed terrible hangovers. Where Yeonjun had his partner to take care of him afterwards though, as Beomgyu heard through the too thin walls later that night, all Beomgyu had were his thoughts

Maybe he was a perv. A freak, or a degenerate. For taking up the offer from Yeonjun’s partner to be driven here. For coming here to fulfill his depraved fantasies he'd sworn off a long time ago. But seeing as there was this many other humans lounging around the room. Dancing and drinking and being fed from out in the open or being dragged to a back room, he could feel just a little bit normal.

If tonight didn’t work out either, he wouldn’t mind coming here another night to try again. Though he could only hope that he’d see you tomorrow.

He didn’t know what it was, but something about you he couldn’t quite shake, he couldn’t quite-he looked up again to see you gone. The space where you sat empty.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you look a little lonely.”

His attention snaps up in an instant.

His head reels as he registers the red eyes looking down at him, the way that you seemed to be bemused at his speechlessness.

“Um, I-“

You seem to have nothing but amusement toward his reaction. Unfazed as you gesture towards the stool next to him. “Is this seat taken?”

“Yes.” you look almost shocked as he says the word, disappointed in a way that makes him think that the infatuation was mutual. “By you.” Beomgyu isn’t quite sure where he gets the confidence to say that but the words come either way.

And they’re almost enough to make you laugh, but not quite. You take a seat, angling your body towards his.

The silence is brief, a few seconds of you surveying him once again but this time a bit closer, a bit more intimate as you reach for the frills on the hem of his thigh-highs, playing with it as he tries his best not to flinch.

Instead of emanating any kind of body heat it’s cold, like a chill coming out of your skin that feels good against in the humid stuffy air of this place.

“So, what’re you here for?”

The question has an easy answer, and that is to get fucked up, not necessarily sex, but he’s heard that a vampire drinking from someone feels like something akin to an orgasm only better than that. He can’t say that though, it’s crude and though he has no trouble being labelled a slut, he doesn’t want you to think that he’d open his legs for anything with fangs.

So instead, “Eh, a new crowd I guess.”

Not entirely a lie, it was a change of scenery, but then again everything about the city was.

Here vampires were allowed to walk free instead of being run out of the town and humans weren’t ostracized for befriending or even getting romantically involved with one.

His parents would disown him if they even knew he was here tonight.

“Meet some new people, see some of the things I wouldn’t see at home.”

The way you look at him is skeptical. You obviously don’t believe the shit coming out of his mouth. Your hand slips higher. “Really now? A new crowd? That’s it?”

No. That’s not just it and Beomgyu’s a tad embarrassed that you can see through him so easily but the feeling is easily overpowered by the want to throw himself at you.

He sucks in a breath, heart thumping so hard he’s sure you can hear. You let out a puff of air. Clearly you’re ready for this game to end, tired of him playing hard to get and done feeding into it.

“You don’t want something maybe a bit…more?” Your voice lowers a few octaves, sultry and smooth.

Like a siren calling to the sailor. Hypnotizing and mesmerizing.

Neither of you are too sure who the siren is at this point though.

It could be the vampire and to Beomgyu, it is. Captivating eyes and sharp fangs, lulling voice that sings to him like no other. All vampires that have that kind of weird alluring quality to them but yours is different, yours is something else entirely.

The human maybe as well. The one that you haven’t been able pull your eyes away from all night. Pretty makeup and pretty clothes. His scent like chocolate and a dash of vanilla. A human unlike any other you’ve had the pleasure of meeting.

Throat dry, eyes fixated in places they shouldn’t be, he nods and you watch his throat bob, that vein in his neck bulging.

Before he realizes what’s happening, your lips are next to his ear, “Look, little lamb,” His body stiffens at the name you've decided to give him. “I am here for something, and with the way that you’ve been eye-fucking me all night, I’m sure that you are too.” you cut off, smiling as you mouth at his skin, “So let’s cut to the chase. Are you on the same page that I am?”

Nails dig into his flesh and he gasps, jumping in his seat, looking shocked and a little turned on before shifting as close as he possibly can considering the fact that you’re on two separate barstools. “Yes, I—I think so,”

“So…you wouldn’t mind if I just…” his gasp rings out, heart skipping a beat as you pull him into your lap, perching him so he’s straddling your thighs. His face so, so close to yours. He can feel your breath on fanning across his cheeks and lips. He could count each of your individual eyelashes if he wanted. Your eyes flicker down. “If I just kissed you? Until you’re breathless and panting against me, all weak and needy?” He can feel your nose brushing against his. “Leave you trembling and shaking, begging me for more, pleading for me not to stop…would you mind?”

That’s it. He’s short-circuited, eyes unfocused, a haze already taking over. “Please.” is all he can come up with but you don’t seem deterred at all by the fact.

“Good.”

He can hardly believe this is happening. Hardly believe that you’re real. A long-lived fantasy from ever since he was a teenager and stumbled upon porn brought to real life, right in front of him. Groping him, in the middle of a bar, calling him a little lamb, pulling him into your lap. In front of the entire bar.

He’s so hard, it hurts. He hopes you don’t notice. Or maybe he hopes you do.

He wants you to kiss him hard, bite and shred up his lips before you move down, using him in any way that you want, he won’t complain, he’ll be so, so good.

You lean closer and his eyelids slip shut, awaiting for your lips on his…they never meet. They’re on his neck instead, licking up and nipping at the shell of his ear, dragging down his jaw. “Tell me what you want, tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

“I-i…” He can’t think properly, you’re a fucking wet dream to him. You’re offering him all he’s ever wanted and he can’t think of anything but your fangs against his fucking neck. “S-shit,” He twitches, throbs. “Mark me, bite me.” He’s desperate, clutching onto you like you’ll disappear any second and he’ll be robbed of the chance he’s been so desperate for all his life. Of you and your scent and your mouth. “I-please-make me bleed, k-kiss me with my blood in your mouth, make me taste myself,”

“Mhm, okay, that can be arranged”, you whisper, nails digging in to grab more of his thigh. He shivers and watches pervertedly as your tongue peeks out from between your lips to wet them. “Y’know, I don’t want you to feel pressured, you can say no and I’ll let you leave,” You mutter. “I promise you’ll make it back home tonight-alive, that is.”

You laugh at your own joke, awaiting for his answer-verbally-and not just him whining like a like clingy whore. Or grinding down against you like he’s your own personal lap dance, chasing for that spark of pleasure with a sharp keen.

He squirms pathetically in your lap, Clutching onto you, off in his own world. “A-ah, y-yes,” his cheeks are so flushed, his legs so tense in your hands. “G-god, anything! I promise, I’ll be good!”

What an offer.

You could hardly take a pass on it, hardly ignore this pretty thing.

Others around the room pervertedly watch, getting ready for a show in the middle of the bar, hardly a rare occurrence but it’s not your style. You don’t like to share your things. And for tonight this human boy is yours.

Only yours.

Without a word, you’re pushing him off your lap, ignoring his anguished cry and bratty groan as you grip his wrist. He squeaks. It’s firm but not painful, tugging him towards an almost hidden exit door.

“Wha-“

“Shh, just follow my lead.”

So he does, following behind with few words of complaint. Not that he can think of much anyway, not around the cloud of lust that feels like cotton in his head.

Before his mind catches up to what’s going on you’re out in the alleyway beside the bar. A light flickers at the end of the street, far off from where you are, just barely illuminating your eyes that stare down at him hungrily.

Pressing his hips down you shove his shivering body against the dirty wall. He can feel grit and moss and something that feels wet soaking into the fabric of his skirt.

He would normally complain, complain but unlike he normal, he doesn’t mind. Because under your watch he can’t help the way his heartbeat quickens, heart working on overtime as the adrenaline begins to take over.

His jaw fits perfectly in your hand and his eyes flutter before slipping shut, leaning into your cool touch as your thumb delicately explores over the ridges of his face, down his cheekbone and over his lips.

He’s so warm. You can’t help but marvel at him, tracing the creases of his eyes, wiping some of the glitter down the side of his face. He shudders out a breath and you smile, like a cat that’s caught a bird. “Hope you don’t mind, but I’m gonna ruin all of this,” his skin is almost scalding. Different. A warmer touch than you’ve felt in a long time. “Make you cry, make all of your pretty makeup run.”

“Please,” he breathes, he begs, raw desire pouring into the singular word. “Please do.”

He’s been so patient. So good for you. A good little toy to your teasing. You suppose he should get a little reward for his troubles.

You watch in fascination as he sighs shakily, hot breath starting to come out in pants. His heart pounds wildly in your ears and you quickly scan over him for the cause.

You quickly find it.

You.

Standing over him as he tightly clings to you. Like he never wants you to leave. His eyes open slightly, wide and needy, your pokerface slipping into a smirk you can’t hold back.

His body shivers in anticipation and your eyes once again find that tiny sliver of thigh exposed, pale skin, unblemished calling out to you like an invitation.

To touch, to squeeze, to explore.

To bite, hopefully.

He jumps when you to touch him, from the cold, he tells himself.

He swears he hears you growl when you make contact but he can’t hear very well over the sound of the city. Nails graze the skin before quickly skipping over where you’d already been. Toying with the hem of his skirt and then sliding under, up higher.

His panting gets heavier. His head falls into the crook of your neck with a pathetic whine, hot puffs of air caressing your skin.

He’s hot and heavy in your hand, underwear a forgone piece of clothing for tonight.

“Slut.” You hiss. He throbs, pre cum leaking all over your hand as he grits his teeth, trying not to fuck himself into your hand like he so badly wants. “You can’t wait to be fucked, can you?” you whisper, “just needed someone to do it for you.” Your hand tightens around him and he chokes out a moan followed by a sob. “Right little lamb?”

Your tone is so menacing, it’s so hot. The cool outside air is nothing compared to his feverish skin.

It seems, the only thing that could cool him down is you.

“Wanna fuck up into my hand?” He’s so wet it makes it so easy for your hand to move along the length of him. “Wanna cum?”

Beomgyu loves this kind of teasing, though he’d never admit it. He loves the fact that you take some kind of wicked pleasure in making him all red, that he knows you want to make him nothing more than a begging writhing mess tonight.

Teasing is his forte. Edging is his favourite pastime. He can take this.

But really, as much as he wants to savour this, you’re right. He really, really, really wants to cum. Already, so quickly it’s almost embarrassing. He just wishes that you’d hurry it up already.

That you’d give up the act and slip to your knees in front of him.

Instead you squeeze his cock, thumb toying over the tip. Beomgyu gasps, tongue needily moving against your neck, licking over the smooth, oddly cold juncture, nipping and whining before moving over to your jugular.

He shivers when he feels no pulse there.

“Tell me what you want little lamb.” He wants so many things. Too many things.

“I need it.” Every ounce of need is poured into the three words, a whine and a beg and a plea all mixed into one. His body shaking with desire.

“Do you now?” You tease.

“Yes, yes, yes, please,” His voice is muffled and it’s hard not resist the urge to dig your nails into his scalp, force him to look at you, so you can see his pretty face and glossy eyes while you make him fall apart. His noises are just as pretty though, straight into your ear, a chill running down your spine at the contrast of your body’s temperature versus the heat of his breath. So just this once you’ll let him.

For now you’ll just rest your fingers in his hair, scratching his scalp lightly in a way that makes him purr and shudder, muffled moans reverberating against your skin.

“You that worked up already? That easily, huh?”

“So easy, just a toying with your cock for a little bit? Or is it the fact that we’re out here?” you coo. His breath hitches as you pull his skirt down just over his hips. He stiffens, worried for a second that you’re going to strip him down completely in this alleyway.

Where someone could so easily see the two you.

Where a worker could come to take the trash out.

Where a drunken patron could wander out.

Where more vampires could find you.

Why does that thought sound so good?

He cuts off into a hiss, biting down on his lips so hard he can taste blood trying to hold back the moan threatening to escape.

“Oh, is that it? Want someone to come out, watch me make a mess of you?” everything screams at him to nod, to scream out the truth but he doesn't. He only whimpers while biting down on his lip.

“Oh, you’re so close…Makes me wonder if I should slow down, give you a break?” He shakes his head insistently, frantically, devastated at the very thought. You sigh over-dramatically-as if he didn’t give you the very reaction that you wanted. “Okay then tell me how you feel little lamb. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

You’re tortuous. You’re making head spin and his blood boil with need. You’re smirking all the while and enjoying his desperate whimpers into your ear, getting all worked up.

You’re mean. You’re so, so mean. And he loves it.

He can’t vocalize it though, can’t find his voice or get out the words stuck in his throat.

Guess you’ll have to force them out of him then.

Beomgyu lets himself be pulled off of you, allowing you to push him back against the wall harder so that every inch of his back is pressed against it. And despite the squeak of indignation of being pushed away from you he seems more than happy about this rough handling.

Even more so as you fall to your knees in front of him.

With the view of you standing below him, hungry eyes searing on his skin, focusing on every vantage point.

His neck, his wrists, his thighs.

He feels as if he’s been burnt wherever you stare too long, skin on fire but it’s okay, okay because the pain somehow makes it so much better.

“You just gonna stare at me all night?”

Finally your attention flicks back up to his face, taking in his blown out pupils and lustful expression. “And what if I do?”

“You love the attention, don’t you?” Fingers slide along the hem of his thigh highs. “Love it when I look at you,” he gasps when he feels you rip the flimsy fabric, too far gone to be pissed, to even cry out in indignation before it’s replaced with your lips.

His body convulses as you kitten lick a long stripe from where the now ruined hem is all the way to where his thigh meets his hip. “You love it when you know that I’m thinking about you.”

Your breath is cold against his cock as you blow air at it, devoid of the usual warm brush of air he’s used to. “Do you wanna know what I think about you? Hear about all the ways I want to ruin you?”

His hands clench and unclench in intervals. He wants to touch you so bad, wants to feel your hair between his fingers, brush his thumb over the cool skin of your face and lips.

He doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch though. He’s not willing to risk it if he knows there’s a chance you’ll stop. He wants this so bad, fuck, he really does. He wants it more than anything else in the world-and he has the chance right now! He has the vampire between his legs, teeth grazing his thighs.

He has the means and the want and the opportunity…but it’s up to you in the end.

“Please don’t stop,” he pleads, rolling his hips up, “I-I’ll die without it.”

You bark out a laugh and that’s all he hears before he watches, eyes wide as your teeth sink into his skin and you’re groaning, gulping down like a starved animal. Beomgyu swears he sees white, or black, or…he can’t really tell but the breath is sucked from his lungs. His fingers claw desperately at the alley wall, trying to find some sort of sanity in the pleasure.

A whorish cry is ripped from his lungs, deaf on his own his ears as ecstasy and pain together and intertwined, one and the same take over his entire body.

He feels like he’s been set it on fire, like he’s been dipped into molten lava or some shit equivalent that his head can’t wrap around.

It’s intense-so fucking intense-Yeonjun downplayed it so much. But then again, absolutely nothing could get him ready for this.

His ears ring and his legs shake as if they’re about to give out. His posture is kept up only from the wall firm behind his back and your hands holding onto him so tightly he’s positive there will be bruises in their place tomorrow.

It feels like he’s cumming but a hundred times more intense, no-a million times-more. He can’t breath, oh fuck, he can’t breath.

His lungs scream for air, but he doesn’t remember how to use them. He feels like he’s been winded, all the oxygen knocked out of him.

Everything aches and everything feels so good. His hands finally clench into your hair and he can feel your lips suctioning at his skin like you were trying to leave a hickey, only he knows there will be much more left behind than just a bruise.

He’s only vaguely aware that he must sound like some sort of dying animal with the way he howls in pleasure, strangled cries released into the night one after another.

He must look like one too with how his hands grasp at your hair, nearly clawing at your scalp, desperately searching for some way to stabilize his sanity that is slowly slipping away with how good this fucking feels.

Your nose nudges against his heated skin, lips suckling, groaning around the area as you continue to drink more and more until he feels so lightheaded he’s worried he’s going to pass out.

And then you let him go.

Beomgyu groans in relief or in disappointment, he doesn’t know. He stares down at you: makeup smeared, drool dripping, hands clutching. He focuses on your stained red teeth, eyes dazed and sharp.

“Did you just cum?”

His hips buck, a meek whine escaping. He nods. But it’s not enough cumming once, not anywhere near enough, he’s still hard and throbbing for your touch. It’s almost as if he can feel the venom of your bite working through his system, corrupting and taking over everything, making his head spin as he arches his back slightly, presenting himself to you for further exploration.

“Please don’t stop, god, I need you so bad~” he’s whiney and he’s adorable, his words slurred, his cheeks pink. “I w-wan’ you to explore every inch of me,” You look up at him, speechless, head filling with thoughts of bloodlust and his body as his hips chase nothing but air, moaning all the while. “Don't hold back, I want to feel everything."

“Really, little lamb? Everything.” You taunt, before you stand, coming face to face with him and finally your lips slam against his, harsh and almost aggressive, fingers knotting into his hair, pushing him closer like you’re trying to consume him.

The taste of iron fills his mouth and he whimpers, clinging onto your shoulders, knees weak at the realization. Warm tears spill down his cheeks but you’re quick to wipe them away with your fingers, succeeding in smudging the last bits of his makeup to hell.

“Fuck you’re so pretty,” you mutter, sucking his tongue into your mouth, drool and spit making a mess everywhere. “I just wanna eat you alive,” the words are sent directly between his legs as your hands slip under his skirt once more, rubbing at his taint before falling back a bit more.

Beomgyu’s eyes slip shut, pulling away from the kiss, knocking his head back against the alley wall with a wanton whine. “P-put them in-please, put them in.” He chokes out.

First you bring your fingers up and shove them into his mouth, collecting a disgusting amount of saliva that’s pooled in his mouth. “Suck.” He does, with a fervent desire, whimpering and swirling his tongue around them as if they were a dick.

Then they’re back where they were before.

He shakes, eyes finding yours with a mix of desire and submission in them. "Please...please put your fingers inside me," he begs, low and needy as he spreads his legs wider for you. "I-I want to feel you inside me...I need it so badly," he grinds down, desperate for your touch.

He lets out a soft gasp as your finger enters him; slow and steady. "Yes...just like that. Deeper. Fuck, feel so full~”

You scissor your fingers, and all composure is lost as he moans loudly at the feeling. No words come to mind, nothing can be said, only be felt.

You find his prostate with ease, pressing down on it, making your little lamb scream into the empty alley, his voice hoarse and gravelly as he pleads mindlessly, hips snapping forward so much you have to pin them against the wall.

“Yeah? That feel good? Having my fingers so deep inside you, huh?” He nods eagerly, his body shaking as you press down on his prostate. He's panting heavily now, barely able to form words.

Beomgyu loses himself in the sensation of your fingers deep inside him. He feels on the edge, his body shaking with pleasure as he grips onto you tightly, nails scratching at your skin though he knows that it’ll do nothing. "Yes...yes I'm so close," he gasps out between moans and twitches.

His walls clench around you as you add a third one in, almost as if they’re sucking you in deeper and deeper.

He's barely able to stand up straight, his legs trying to spread wider, his skirt restricting room until in one swift move you rip a slit all the way up. His gasp is shocked. He'll be angry at you later. But not now as you take his knee in your free hand and throw it around your hip, giving you more access to press even harder against his prostate.

Beomgyu’s eyes roll back in bliss as you abuse the spot over and over. Waves of pleasure crashing over him, he looks up at you with a pleading expression in his eyes, his fingers gripping tightly onto your shoulders. "Please...please let me cum," he begs in a low, husky voice. "I need it so badly...let me cum for you," he pleads desperately, his body quivering with anticipation, so close to exploding he can’t think straight.

“Cum.”

He cries out as the flood bursts through, lost in the moment now, vaguely aware of anything except for the mind-blowing pleasure coursing through his veins. "Oh god...yes!"

His orgasm seems to last an eternity, every inch of his being exploding with pleasure. You're sure that everybody inside bar has heard you now, that your pretty boy was too loud, that he is still too loud as he pants and shudders against you, dumb with pleasure as his cum soaks into the fabric of his skirt and drips down his thighs and your arms.

You’d clean it up for him if he weren’t holding onto you so tightly, ensuring that you can’t move. Well, you could move if you really wanted to, but you don’t want to.

Instead, no words are exchanged as you slowly move your arms up, wrapping around his waist in return. He looks up at you, eyes bleary and unfocused, drooping shut drowsily.

You sigh, realizing that you’ll have to take care of him for the rest of the night whether that be trying to figure out where he lives or taking him back to your own.

He sighs dreamily, breathing getting slower as he drifts off. Still covered in cum and drool, smudged makeup on his face and blood stained on his lips.

He's the siren and you're the sailor, there could be no other way. He lured you in and you had not a hint that you'd be trapped with him for however long he wanted you after that.

Pushing back the sweaty hair that sticks to his forehead, you smile, unable to bring yourself to be the slightest bit upset about it.

Either way, he’ll wake up tomorrow morning, completely fucked up and you're sure that you’ll be there to nurse him through it.

a/n: ignore the way the smut is more than half of the fic😇, hope you all enjoyed it! I'm kinda teasing around the idea of doing the rest of txt w either vampire reader OR w them being the vampire though if i did it probably wouldn't be out for awhile with everything else i'm doing.

anyway, taglist (going by people who specifically asked to be tagged so sorry if you wanted to be tagged and weren't): @d7dream, @fairyofshampgyu, @pink-tea, @goquokka, @maru-matt, @esther-kpopstan, @bitehee, @k-femdove, @snowballbear, @sanasour, @yongboksgf, @paeng0rl, @mysoob, @hobihearteu, @laylasbunbunny, @lemonhongjoong, @xcookiemonsteer, @hahagay,

my official taglist is here

#dom reader #sub txt #txt smut #sub! txt #txt #txt x reader #sub choi beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu smut #sub beomgyu #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu smut #vampire reader #sub kpop #sub!kpop #sub idol #sub!idol

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fairykazu · 22 days

Note

hi pookie !!!!!!! congrats on 500 u deserve it frfr 🫶 for the event, can u have a bouquet of petunias with dan heng? thank you and congratulations again teehee :3

petunias with dan heng prompt: realizing feelings side note: oh mu god i think i brainrotted and then forgot my train of thought. this isn't exactly the prompt but he does realize it i swear. i might write a follow up afterwards because i hate the way i ended this. event masterlist 𝜗𝜚 hsr masterlist

nervous was a feeling that dan heng never allowed himself to feel, he only let it fleetingly pass by like the winter breeze. but he doesn’t understand how he began to feel anxious around you, just simply on edge just by being near you. he could just sweat pure bullets from the amount of sweat he could feel, making his palms sweaty.

when the both of you went on an assignment for collecting extinguished cores, he nearly left mid-fight, not that he’d leave you in the middle of a fight, but your hand briefly touched his and he died within that moment. after that, he zoned out the entire mission, just focusing on the touch between his thumb and your index finger. his and yours, and his and yours-

frankly, he doesn’t understand this feeling. if he asked someone on the express, surely, they would know why he’s acting this way. but he doesn’t want to seem like a bother to them. maybe he’d resort to them after a good dive into the archives.

there was a gentle knock against his door but he didn’t hear it, head too deep in various books that were wide open. stacks of books and stacks of books littered the archives’ floors, it was like a maze to even just travel to dan heng. there were books like feelings and how to understand them and are you anxious? there are reasons why in the shelves. although, he was confused how they got there, maybe when march got them to read for fun, he was thankful.

did he get the answers he needed? no. but they were helpful regardless yet he was in a dead end. well, it’s time to ask the express, maybe they’d know and surely, they would tell him. but when he tried to seek out answers from himeko and welt, they exchanged a look and laughed with each other.

welt cleared his throat. “okay, himeko, let’s not laugh too much, maybe he knows why.”

himeko wiped a tear from her face from laughing too much, catching her breath, “welt, c’mon, just look at him. he doesn’t know anything!”

“dan heng isn’t clueless.” they were talking about him as if he didn’t even exist. until both of them looked at dan heng as if there was something he was supposed to know. “is there something im missing?” dan heng asked, confused.

“no…”

“okay?”

. ❀

back to the drawing board, he walked into his room, seeing march and stelle sitting in there. march raised a brow, “dan heng, your room’s a mess, even messier than stelle’s!” it was true, despite the silver haired girl protesting against the so-called “allegations” march is painting on her, his room was messy. there was post it notes on the walls, books on the floor, mattress and even the fan? was he really that deep into researching this feeling, if it is even real?

“i was curious about something, that’s all.”

“about what?”

“name, something about name. they’re confusing me.”

stelle quipped back, “what? that you like them?” the girl in pink gasped, march slapped stelle’s shoulder, “stelle!” she continued in a whisper-yell, “you weren’t supposed to tell him, he was supposed to figure this out himself.”

dan heng tilted his head, deep in thought, ignoring the commotion the couple was making in front of him.

what? no, no, he doesn’t like name like that.

“look what you did, stelle! you broke him.” march said, tapping on dan heng’s shoulder as if he was a buzzer in a game show.

sure, sometimes, dan heng imagines a world where the two of you are together. tranquil hours spent in the park, just looking at each other. or cooking with each other, have a cat or a dog and rest together until the end of time or he’d pray to an aeon for eternity to exist forever just to see you as you both grow old.

but that’s because this is how friends act, right?

#love language of flowers 𝜗𝜚 vidia's 500 event #hsr x reader #gen #gender neutral reader #gend #gender neutral terms #gender neutral insert #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng #dan heng hsr x reader #hsr fluff #hsr dan heng

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mdr-writings · 7 months

Text

Streamer!Eren x reader pt.2

A/n: I'm sorry I took so long to get this part out. I was very busy with my classes, I had relationship problems, family issues, I was a hot mess. But after rewrite after rewrite I can finally put this out. How convenient that its on Final Aot day. Honestly, I'm also glad that I am putting it out today bc I'd rather be hot and bothered rather than sad and sobbing. Btw I am gonna fix the first part because I feel like it lacks a lot of things. If you still want to read it, it’s linked below

wc:4.3k

Part One

Cw: slight teasing of weight, oral ( fem receiving), overstimulation, heavy kissing

” So does Eren behave himself when he talks to you guys,” you ask the chat as you sat down on his lap.

“What? you know I always behave myself,” he cocks his head towards you grinning. “Sure you do,” you said rolling your eyes. You know that he rarely behaves himself when it comes to you. So, you could assume he’s the same in front of an audience. You point your finger towards the camera. “Look, seems like the chat knows you better than yourself.”

Eren’s attention shifts to the screen to see the chat flooding with comments siding with you. “It’ll be your own people huh?” you let out a quick chuckle while picking at your nails.

“Do you guys have anything you wanna ask her,” he questioned.

You speak up, “Yeah, you guys can ask me anything “. You didn't know where this sense of comfortability came from. Maybe it was Eren's aura or the way he communicates with his audience. It’s a possible reason as to why he has such a big following.

Eren has always been transparent about how he feels whether it’s about something or someone. The guy has a hard-on for conflict, but the way he is authentic with himself is admirable. “Anything?” Eren raises his eyebrows in amusement. The sound of a notification alert pops up on the monitor. A monotone robotic voice booms from the computer’s speaker” what is the freakiest thing you've done?”

“What do you mean?” you furrowed your eyebrows together. Of course, you were not going to show that side of you. Who do they think they were trying to ask a question like that? Perhaps you do tell them, then what? You become the biggest streamer’s slut? Smart remarks filled your head ready to be spat at the viewers. Though, integrity got the best of you and decided to remain quiet.

“Aww come on, you can’t let the audience down now” he teases. Eren begins soothingly stroking your thigh. As he strokes, he draws patterns of circles, leaving you to accidentally shudder in his grasp. He then intriguingly raises his eyebrows.

“Oh my god, I'm literally slipping off of you” you grab on both sides of his thighs to try to push yourself up. “Geez you’re like a fucking slip and slide, what did you do bath in, butter?” you mumbled. Eren looks down to your bottom half and notices your butt touching his knees. “It’s okay, I got you,” he murmured.

“Goddamn, you’re heavy as fuck.” You whipped your head to face him to strike him a glare. He then adjusts himself with you on top, making your bottom rub against his crotch. A low groan escaped his mouth. You felt heat brewing on your face.

“Uhhh let’s see, is there any more questions?” you ask desperately looking at the screen. “Y/n you didn't even answer the first one” he raised one eyebrow and lowered the other. You stop your internal thoughts as you once again feel a hot sensation on your thigh moving. You try not to acknowledge the hand with clear intentions of riling you up.

“You gotta toughen it out y/n.”

“Actually,” you start. Eren eyes shot up in interest. “I can recall, the time I... you know... to a professor in a class,” you stammer over your words. Instantly, a wave of regret crashes into you. Somehow you forgot Eren attends this same college and classes you take. You silently cursed at yourself.

“Oh?” Eren’s lips curled up into a smirk. “And who might that professor be?” he questioned. Learning this fun fact about your sexual deviances aroused Eren's curiosity. In a millisecond, your ear is set ablaze as pressed his Eren's lips against it. “Would that be Professor Erwin or Miche?” His warm breath brazes your ears which ignites a fire in your stomach. “Or maybe Professor Levi?” his hand slithered its way towards your inner thigh. Your legs quickly squeeze together in hopes to stop the throbbing that started between them. Luckily, Eren was just in time to snatch his hand away from the trap. Your face was twisted up in frustration.

This hasn’t been the first time that Eren has teased you. But this felt different, it’s almost as if you don’t want it to stop. The words he’s throwing at you don’t feel like feathers this time around. His hands on your thighs feel like it’s burning through your skin. The heartbeat in your core seems to pulsate harder and faster. You didn’t want it to stop but you were fighting to not look desperate.

Satisfied in your response, Eren clasped his hands together. “Alright I'm gonna end it right here make sure you share the stream with your friends, follow Y/n on her socials and repent, toodles” he sings. Eren leans over to hit a hotkey on his keyboard which he assumes ends his streams. He then swivels the knobs on the computer’s speaker on mute. He once again lays a hand on your thigh. You let out a short hum clearing your throat. He then leans back to take notice of your stiff position in his lap. Eren lightly squeezes your arm,” You, okay?”

“I’m fine,” you pull away from his grip. Eren can tell when he goes overboard. He could just make it up to you by buying your favorite food like he always does. But for once in his life, he would rather be mature and talk it through.

“Hey, I know this was your first time on here and I know it was a bit overwhelming,” he breathed. “I do apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”

“I said I’m fine Eren,” you raised your voice. Eren was taken aback by your sudden attitude towards him. His once loud and lively room was now clouded with silence. “I think we should head down now,” he placed his hands upon your plush waist. Gripping the chair handles, you turn around allowing your legs to lay against Eren’s waist. “I lost my appetite,” you whispered in monotone.

You couldn’t understand yourself as to why you suddenly opposed his suggestion. Wasn’t your main objection being to take him downstairs? You could just walk away from him and have that same gut-wrenching feeling in your stomach. But your body wouldn’t allow you to move. Something snapped, those times of playful bickering started to build a form of lust and desire. Maybe now was the time to reveal the real reason behind the constant squabbles.

“Y/n, I said I’m s-”

“You know,” you started. “Our little fights always end up leaving me confused,” your gaze pandered between his dark forest green eyes and plump lips.

From what you could remember, Eren constantly had some girl hooked up on him. Hell, he even got Mikasa wanting to try him out. But for some reason he could never really settle. His mind always seemed to wander to the same person, you. The squabbles could be played off as friendly but the feeling of wanting it to go further lingered. But as a result, it left you reaching for more, wanting him more.

Eren’s heart pounds loud against his chest. He always felt as if going further wasn’t an option. He had his moments where he just wanted to hold you so close, as if he would die if he let go. Moments where he wanted to make you his. Perhaps if he did the things he thought of doing to you, how would he face the friend group, what about his fans, and Mikasa? He decided that acting upon his true feelings towards you was too risky.

“We’re friends Y/N” he confirms, his eyes soften under your gaze. Your eyes then pondered around his room. “Is that all you want to be?”

He huffs out an air of defeat. The sound of the ventilation buzzing was consuming the room.

“I-I” he stuttered as the pounding of his heart was breaking his sternum. He raises a hand to cover his rose-colored face.” Y/n what’s the point of this,” he audibly muffles. You reach up to pry his hand away from himself and hold it in your palms.

“I’m doing what I feel is right to me,” you reply with reason.

As corny as it felt, you no longer had interest in letting the feeling of desire leave you again.

“So, antagonizing me is what feels right to you? “Yup, that sounds just like you,” he speculated. Your face drops into a frown,” No dumbass.” Your fingers hook in the crevasses of his. Eren scrunches his eyebrows together in uncertainty. “Then what?” You place your intertwined hands over your heart that was protected by your flesh. “Us” you replied in a hush tone. It seems like Eren’s face couldn’t get any redder. Your hands enclosed over his, touching your chest, it felt as if he were in his recurring dream. This time, he was hoping there would be no interruptions to wake him.

“Are you fucking with me,” Eren interrogated in disbelief. Your skin began to spread warmth to your face. “Yes, I mean... no but I want to- if you know what I mean,” you ran over your words frantically. Still not connecting the dots, Eren’s head cranks his head to the side. You inhale a shaky breath” I can’t believe I’m saying this but…”

“Eren, I like you,” you sheepishly state. It was as if you could hear a needle drop on the floor. To make matters worse, the screaming vents were now hushed. “Well?” you quizzed. His eyes darkened as he stared through your soul. Your heart tanked to the lowest part of your stomach. Your confession has left you embarrassed and empty handed with no response.

That same damn feeling.

Your frustration grew as you started to pull your legs away from his waist. A hand jumped out to grasp at your thigh pulling you closer. You jump at the sudden movement. “I want you to say it again.” You could feel your blood pressure rising by the second. He got some nerve to try to humiliate you. “Hey, I finally have the courage to tell you- “

“Y/n, I want you to say it again,” he repeats while his eyes were capturing your psyche. You silence yourself as you can sense his serious demeanor. His eyes were dissecting every part of your face.

“I like you,” you whispered.

Suddenly, you felt your lower half become weightless. Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck for security. Eren’s arms gripped the back of your thighs as he moved towards his bed. It was like time was strolling through Molasses. You begin to study his face. So, tense and stern as if it was in concentration to finish a task. Just minutes ago, you were just stopping by to send a message from your friends. Now you were in his bed waiting for his next move.

Dropping you onto the bed, he stands in front of you, sighing while his eye sweeps over your face. You bite your lips anxiously not wanting to make any other part of your body move. Once again, the room continues its loud humming.

“I try so hard to resist, but you always seem to reel me back in.” You remain still as your thoughts race in your head. “Do you not care about what people will say,” He harshly grips his biceps.

“No”

His jaw clenches tightly. Why couldn’t you understand how risky it is for the both of you? The possible backlash of his viewers that was also used to seeing Mikasa on the stream. Mikasa possibly being jealous that the two of best friends are entangled in each other’s arms. He thought of the many outcomes of the situation which were all negative.

“Why can’t we keep it a secret, nobody has to know,” you crossed your arms against your chest. Eren walks towards you, stopping close as your legs almost touched. He leans over, his face nearing to yours. His minted breath tickles your nose.

“Because Y/n, being around you, I can’t be secretive.” His closeness has you yearning, you crave him. Your eyes frantically search his, you could almost feel your heart jumping out your chest. Not waiting a second more, you crash your lips into his. Releasing years of tension and desire, you melt as your lips mesh together.

He loses balance as you pull him on top of you. Regaining his composure, he leans in closer to your face. You hastily reach up to grab a hand full of his locks, enclosing his hair in your fingers. Eren groans as your grip tightens. His groan sends millions of nerve shocks to your core. You let out a soft moan into his mouth. A sudden wave of clarity hits you as it feels like you haven’t gotten his full approval. A quick smack could be heard as you pulled away from his lips.

“Are you okay with this, we can stop,” you inquire trying to steady your breathing. Eren chuckles as if your question were nothing but a joke. “I don’t think now is the right time to start asking questions.” You smile brightly leading him back to your lips. He then pushes harder into the kiss making you needlingly whine.

He begins tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. He sweeps his tongue in between your lips, exploring your warm mouth. You lower your hands towards his pants, rubbing his hard print. Eren quickly pulls away from your mouth while pushing you back flat against his bed.

He now feels the temperature of the room increasing by the minute. He pulls the hem of his shirt over his head. Your eyes scan his toned body as he studies yours. He decides he wasn’t going to be the only one shirtless. “Arms up,” he commands you. You lift your arms over your head as he pulls your shift off. Now bare breasted you cover yourself up. “Don’t be shy now, should I cover mine too,” he joked covering his tanned nipples. You let out a short giggle, rolling your eyes revealing your chest. Eren smiles as he trails his lips down towards your breast.

You shiver as you feel his tongue leave hot kisses on its journey down south. He latches on to your hardened nipple, sucking and licking as he flicks the other in his hand. You jolt up panting from his touch. The sounds of you moaning tighten the grip of print in his pants. “Eren” you whimpered; your core was leaking more of your slick.

“Feels good?” he asked with a labored breath. “Mmhm,” you moaned. His fingers began to run up and down the sides of your legs. Your head grew hot and dazed, the warmth of his touch scorched your skin. He then lowers his head to peck your thighs leading down to your heated core. Your heart rate spiked as you knew these course of events officially change everything about your relationship with him. Eren’s eyes reach yours to ask to continue. You harshly swallow the hard ball of saliva stuck in your throat.

You then nod your head while swiping your tongue on your lips as the heat made them chapped. Your legs felt a strong pull as thighs were raised to the sides of your stomach. Swiftly, your panties were snatched away from your body. Then you look down to see his head ducked below your thighs. A wet long stripe swiped across your lower lips. Your legs quickly try to shut but eren’s reaction time was faster, catching them in his hands.

“You want me to stop?” He asks. You shook your head side to side in desperation for him to continue. “Then keep still, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you responded.

Settling back in between your thighs, you felt another long stripe now on your folds. “Oh fuck,” you cried. Your breath was hitching, you felt air being sucked out of your lungs. Eren could felt his cock get more sensitive as he rubs it against his pants. He towards the top of your pussy and puckered his lips around your needy bud, giving it several pecks.

“Oh my god, “ you moaned loudly. Your hands were clawing at your chest not having another place to settle. The sensation was overwhelming your body, the heat from the room and his mouth set you aflame. You felt a long intrusion prodded at your sopping hole, entering you slowly. You let a high-pitched squeal as you squeeze your eyes shut. Eren gazed up at your face turning in satisfaction. He lets out groan around your hard bud buzzing it into more pleasure.

“Yes, right there,” you screamed out. Eren works his fingers harder and deeper into your hole. Stretching and curling his long digits. The squelching of your dripping core and screams echoed around the room. Eren began to feel the grip of your walls tighten and loosening, letting him know you were close to your speedy climax.

“Eren, more please,” you needily whined pushing yourself closer to his face. He then removed his fingers and plunged his tongue into your hot core, swirling it around. Once again glancing up, he peeks at your pleasured face, lips falling into a perfect “o”. His fingers start to circle around your clit. Your feet curl up and down over his broad shoulders. While soaking and scavenging your hole, he brushed over a small plush button. Your thick arousal dripped on to his black satin sheets leaving a damp puddle underneath you.

You gasp hard as you arched your back off the bed. He smirks as he hits the sensitive spot over and over. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your stomach clenched. “I’m gonna cum,” you panted wearily. You felt his pace on your bud and hole quicken faster than before. He presses deep into you, numbing the spot that weakened your senses.

“Ahhh, yess” you hiss in despair. The band in your stomach begins to ripple harshly. He pinches your clit tightly in between his fingers, yanking the nerves upwards. In an instant, your walls clench and stutter profusely. Panting and crying out, as Eren decides to rub you through your orgasm making you whine in pain.

“Eren, no more, please!”

He shushes you while enthusiastically applying more pressure on your bud. The sensation of you needing to release again ached you. Fluids suddenly began spurting from your overstimulated cunt. You cry out as drool seeping out your gaping mouth.

“goooood girl,” he praises you, slowly drawing circles on your clit. As your breath settles, he slowly removes his fingers from you. Looking over, he presents his dampen fingers to you. “You might wanna get a- “

Eren slipped the wet digits into his mouth, licking and slurping your juices from his hand. Blood drained from your face as you watched him pop his fingers out of his mouth. He smiles at your astonished reaction.

“You taste good,” he smirked. “Shut up!” you angrily yelled. He then began moving closer towards you.

“Wanna try?”

“Eren, I swear to god, get away from me,” you shouted grabbing the covers from underneath to protect you. “Come here~” he teases. He quickly makes his way to your side while cackling. You shriek, a gasp of wind grazes you as he rips the blankets away from your bare body.

“NO,” you scream out as his face is inches away from yours. Eren halted his body from moving further. “You actually don’t want to try it?” he questions. You slightly turn your head away from his deep green eyes.

“Well, I- uhm”, you nervously stammer out. Eren softly smiles at your demeanor in enjoyment, “it’s embarrassing,” he finishes for you.

“It’s embarrassing,” you shyly confirm while nodding your head. His fingertips rest at the bottom of your face, tenderly pushing it back to face him. Your eyes attach to his, occasionally shifting to his plump lips. “Listen, I’m not gonna force you,” he assures.” But it was funny watching you scream,” his dimple forms on his cheeks as he breaks out in laughter. You frown in humiliation but soon, bits of giggles spill from your mouth. Your joined laughter filled your bodies with happiness, neither you nor he wanted it to fade into the abyss.

Eren laughter dies out as he focuses once again on your face. His thumb reaches your lips, gently brushing over them. Your eyes saturated with temptation, inching closer to his warm lips. He understood your command, closing the thin gap between the both of you, your mouths gracefully settled on each other. You could feel your chest twist and twirl in excitement.

Could it be love? No, no, that’s a tad bit heavy to use the L word on the same day of your confession. It felt too light label it as a crush. Whatever it was, bonded the cracks of your heart that formed each day that came before this one.

Letting the kiss linger a second longer, you could taste a reminisce of a sweet and tangy flavor on his mouth. You pulled back from him allowing a sigh to slip out, “I wanna try it,” you confessed. Eren’s eyebrows slanted in confusion, “You already did”.

“No, I did- OH!” You shouted covering your mouth. You jokingly smacked your lips together to taste yourself again, “you’re right I don’t taste bad”. Eren smiles at your blatant wittiness, it’s one of the things he most admires about you. The quick jabs you throw at him and the rest of the group, it seems he’s the only one who manages to keep up.

The mention of the group assisted in his daze to drift to the main purpose of you being here. “Y/n, we should probably head down now, it’s been while since you left them”. You slid your shirt over your head as you hummed in agreement. He follows your lead and begins to put his shirt on.

Time seems to pass on fast, in a span of minutes you were introduced and teased on his stream, let out your confession and allowed the man you have been eyeing out on for years to devour you.

“Dammit,” you stoop down to look under his bed. “What are you looking for”, he inquires also tilting his head down. Your hands blindly wander under his bed frame, “I can’t find my underwear”. The constant slapping of your hand against his floor was tiring and the lack of light in his room didn’t help with your searching.

“Oh, you mean these”, your head turns up towards the brunette boy. His hands hold the panties, balled up and enclosed under his fingers. You stride towards him quickly as he grins, eyeing your exposed lower parts.

“Eren, give it to me,” you warned sternly. He backs up raising the panties behind his head, “it was so good you’re begging for more huh?” he taunts.

You angrily step closer to him, “Eren!” you gritted your teeth. “I don’t know I think it’ll kind of be exciting to free ball it, don’t you think”, he laughs still steps backwards.

“Fuck you,” you angrily retort.

“Ah, we’ll get to that another time, don’t wanna be too needy”.

Finally reaching him, you stare with dagger in your pupils. Not a peep could be heard as he stares back with levity, seeing this as nothing but fun. Your eyes shift between the parallel green ones, fury congests your stomach. Eren fights the urge to grab your face and push your soft lips on his.

“Whatever”, you huffed out in defeat, going to put your shorts back on. He smiles lightly, retreating his prize into his top dresser drawer. You make your way towards his door ready to exit but something still nagged at your thoughts.

“Eren, what is this now”, you questioned in concern. He slides the band out of his hair, making the brown locks frame his face and shoulders. “You mean, what’s going on between us,” he asks with vagueness. “Mmhm” You hummed wanting him to continue.

“Oh yeah, your mine for sure”, he carelessly raked his fingers through his tresses. You felt heat flash across your cheeks, flustered by the fact that you were now in his possession.

Eren then bites the band while gathering his hair into one fist in the back of his head. The back side of his biceps strained; veins flexed as his grip tightened on his hair. You stare at the voluptuous muscles that fought against his flesh. The boy finally places the band in his other hand then ties it into a somewhat presentable bun.

“Even in front of them”, you questioned referring to your joined friend group. The door was now ajar, the light of the hallway bled into his room making the luminesce shine on your body. “We’ll talk more later, let’s eat,” he mumbled nodding his head into the lit-up hall. You whispered a quick “okay” as you made your way out and soon, he follows right after.

Darkness had absorbed every spec of light in the room, except one blinking spot of red on Eren’s desktop.

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢୨୧⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢ ⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢୨୧⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

“And I even got the chance to hold one”, Armin boasted proudly. The other remaining friends gathered around the table excited to hear about Armin’s oceanic studies. Food was placed on the counter waiting to be consumed, mainly waiting to be consumed by Sasha as she anxiously stared at the thinning steam that rose from the pot.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit dangerous to only be for a general research assignment”, Jean asks in genuine concern for the blond. “No, not at all”, Armin answers while swiping between photos on his phone of the sea animal he held. Jean sighs in defeat, what a way to be reckless for an extracurricular class.

Mikasa sat in between the 2 blondes, patiently waiting for you and eren’s arrival. She pondered at clock resting against the wall. It’s ticking reminding her every second and minute goes by without the appearance of her 2 friends up the stairs.

“It’s going on fifteen minutes now”, she informs the group. “I'm sure they’ll be down in a sec”, armin reassured while glancing at the time on his phone.

“Yeah whatever, who’s idea was to wait for him anyway”, the food fiend groaned. Armin and Mikasa accusingly pointed their fingers towards Jean. “ I thought it would be a nice way of gathering together”, his face painted in pink.” “Mama’s boy”, Sasha muttered under her breath.

“ Hey, I heard that! ”

Connie, too consumed by his phone to engage in conversation decided to do a check up on his socials. Twitter was the first choice, he laughed obnoxiously at a couple of tweets from people he followed closely. Afterwards, he viewed the current top 10 trending topics.

Elon Musk, a copycat.

Megan thee Stallion, she can step on me.

One Piece Live action, mid.

Jaegermeister exposed, about damn time.

It wouldn’t be surprising if eren did a tip slip, that wouldn’t be the worst thing he could’ve done. Connie, not anticipating the unexpected, lazily pressed the bolded subhead. Automatically, the top video began to play out, his breathing came to a sudden pause; pupils dilated in shock.

“No way”

Tagged:

@sofamochi @bootlegroach @nafi-2004

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #aot x reader #mdrwritings #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren aot

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