#it really ain’t that hard to at the least try.
i have now come around to “i’m not lying about being sick” but god it sure does sound like it when i’m pulling brand new symptoms out of my ass every time my work asks me to do something. sorry i’ve developed debilitating vertigo since last week. yeah i can’t drive anywhere. can’t really sit up and look at the computer for very long either without puking so i can’t reliably take incoming zoom calls. yeah this is just since the last time you saw me a week ago and i told you i could do those things sorry.
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Venty stuff in tags ignore me I’m just screaming into the void about chronic pain/illness
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summary: Sukuna tries to teach Yuuji self-defense, but of course, he happens to forget how helpless the toddler is.
cw: mentions of death/kidnapping, reader gets called helpless
wc: 1.4k
a/n: i love them so much. its so fun to write this au!!
big brother au masterlist
When you walk into the living room, you can’t help but smile. Truly, was it a rarity to see Sukuna and Yuuji getting along nicely. Of course, Yuuji was always sweet, but Sukuna was a brat and found that hanging out with a four-year-old was not really his cup of tea. Or at least, that’s what he proclaims to you.
Yuuji throws a punch at his brother’s hand, brows furrowing in concentration. Sukuna sits on the floor, cross-legged, and in front of Yuuji, who was standing at his full height. The older sighs, “Well, that was pathetic. Harder.”
The boy nods, obviously trying to hold back a smile. He wanted to seem just as serious as Sukuna did, but it was hard for the toddler due to how smiley he always seemed to be. But he lets out a tiny huff and brings his fists up to his face. Then, he makes a little “Hii-ya!” noise and slams his fist into Sukuna’s open palm.
“Okay, this ain’t working. Fuck, how are we of the same bloodline? I was not this weak,” Sukuna complains to himself, pulling his hands down.
You roll your eyes and step into the room. “Maybe because he is a four-year-old. Don’t think it’s his job to be strong,” You say, and Sukuna’s eyes flicker to you. A smile pulls at his lips, and the man begins to stand up from the floor to greet you. Yuuji beats him to it though, letting a high-pitched squeal in excitement before running over to you.
You grin at the noise, watching the boy waddle over to you with bright eyes. You crouch down to his level and greet him, ruffling his hair. Then you pinch at his cheeks, ignoring the whine of complaint from Yuuji. “You are way too cute to fight! Huh, no fighting for you. You just gotta stay this small forever!” You coo, peppering kisses to the boy’s cheeks and forehead.
The boy lets out a fit of giggles and a “Noooo! Wanna be big like Kuna!”
You shake your head, a fake pout on your face. “But Sukuna isn’t cute at all,” You half-heartedly complain, sparing a glance at your lover.
He walks up to the two of you and picks up Yuuji by the back of his hood, causing the kid to squirm in the air. Sukuna pays no mind to it, instead looking toward you, who is standing back up. “Don’t lie,” He scolds, and you raise your eyebrows, “I am adorable.”
You chuckle at him, rolling your eyes, and he in return presses a quick kiss to your lips. His brother begins to whine in complaint, causing the older to roll his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, quit whining. I’ll put you down in a second, little pest, but you need actually to put in some effort to fight me.”
“Okay!” Yuuji exclaims, and Sukuna sighs. Yuuji was so agreeable. When Sukuna was that age, he was supposedly a brat who argued with everyone, or at least that is what he had heard. Yuuji was strangely different than him. He didn’t know if he minded it or not.
Sukuna puts the boy down and sits again on the floor. He glances at you, who is taking a seat on the couch. Your eyes seem to read, play nice. It makes Sukuna want to roll his eyes, but the kid distracts him again, his tiny hands placed on the knees of Sukuna’s sweatpants while he grins up at his brother. The little beast had no concept of personal space, and the older of the two swears he can feel his brother practically breathing on him.
Sukuna pushes the boy off, sending him falling on his backside. “Sukuna,” You warn, but he ignores you. Yuuji only frowns and gets back up again, climbing back over to the other.
“Pretend im a kidnapper,” Sukuna demands, straightening his back and moving closer, taunting the small boy. “I am a very bad man who is going to take you home with me and lock you in my–”
“Sukuna!” You interrupt before Yuuji could hear his brother’s unneeded explanation. Yuuji seemed to stare owlishly at his brother, a little nervous but mostly confused about what he was talking about.
The man grins at you and shrugs his shoulders. But he abides to your wish with a scoff. “...Do bad things to you,” He weakly finishes. “Now, defend yourself!”
Yuuji’s hands go up into his mouth, tiny fingers playing with his lips, and he shakes his head with a giggle. “But big brother will protect me!”
Sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose, and you let out a small laugh. “I’m dead.” Yuuji’s face visibly falls. “The kidnapper killed me because you were too weak to defend yourself and save me. Now look, Y/N is all alone and helpless because of you.”
Your mouth opens in shock at the bluntness of it all. Yuujis eyes are wide, and he goes silent for a second. Then, his mouthline begins to wobble, and his eyes begin to water. “Kuna gone?”
Sukuna begins to backtrack, not wanting to deal with his brother’s tears. He stumbles toward the child, eyes wide. “It’s a hypothet–”
Yuuji’s scream sends you scrambling to your feet and over to the pair immediately. You grab Yuuji by the waste and swing him around, a huge, forced smile on your face. “And boom!” The force of it all startles the small boy, and he pauses his cries for a moment with owlish eyes while you continue to swing him around. “Y/N comes in and saves the day! And guess what, Sukuna was just sleeping!”
You place Yuuji on your side and help wipe his tears away. Only about two or three fell before you grabbed him, but still, his eyes seemed to be slightly puffy. The boy continues to sniffle, hands rubbing at his eyes. “Just sleeping?”
Before you could answer, Sukuna tears the boy from your arms. He holds him up in front of him by both of Yuuji’s underarms, causing the boy to dangle in the air. “I’m offended that you would think I would die so easily, brat.”
A smile begins to crawl up Yuuji’s face, but he shakes his head, and his voice holds a whine to it. “Don’t. Don’t like it.”
Sukuna sighs before placing the boy on his hip. Yuuji seems to find comfort there, burying his head into his brother’s shirt. It was rare to be held by Sukuna, and Yuuji obviously wanted to soak up all the time he has up there. “Yeah, I don’t think I would like being dead either. Luckily, your brother is the strongest, so you won’t have to worry bout that, yeah?”
Yuuji nods into his brother’s side, grinning and possibly wiping snot onto Sukuna. You take this time also to add your say in the matter. “And I’m not helpless.” You glance at the man who was just remembering what he said in the moment.
“C’mon, maybe just a little?” He teases, and you step closer to the pair, fighting back a smile. But before you could retort another teasing bite, the boy interjects his opinion.
“Nuh-uh! Y/N saved us. You sleeping, Kuna!”
You fake gasp in realization of his words, and Yuuji’s eyes light up. “Oh my, you are so right, Yuuji! Don’t you think he is the helpless one?” You coax, and Yuuji seems to lean toward you at your excited tone.
He nods his head rapidly, not really knowing what he is agreeing to but just trying to mimic your actions. “Kuna helpless!”
Sukuna rolls his eyes at the two of you and pinches the boy’s cheek, looking down at his brother. “Says the one who had a whole breakdown over the word–”
“Sukuna.”
Sukuna takes a deep breath and glances at you and Yuuji’s big dark eyes. He shakes his head in defeat, “Yeah, guess I am, ain’t I?”
You crack a smile, and Yuuji squeals in delight, digging his tiny hands into his brother’s shirt. Sukuna ruffles the boy’s hair.
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make a move on me
➔ pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader - 5.5k
➔ You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodeling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.
➔ Rated MA for baby’s first anal fic protected p in a and anal fingering (r receiving), age gap (reader is early 20’s, joel is 36), m masturbation/pillowhumping, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, gentle-turned-rough sex, pet names (baby, darling, honey, good girl, baby girl, little lady), slight degradation and condescension but only in a sexy way, one use of “slut”, pussy pronouns, one (1) pussy slap, gratuitous dickscription, heavy dom/sub dynamics i mean seriously these power dynamics are out of control, tommy is a little bit of a shit (affectionate) [pls let me know if i missed anything at all :)]
➔ This reader insert character: has female anatomy and uses feminine pronouns, no name/no use of y/n, is generally able-bodied, fits in joel’s shirt and is implied to be shorter/smaller than him, is on summer break from college but no major/year is mentioned.
Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. Keep his hands to himself and his mind on the job. Don’t fret over the pretty little thing who’s been draping herself all over the house ever since he started demo, practically begging to be fucked.
If he had any sense, he would pack his shit and drop the job–or, at the very least, tell your parents to put you on a leash. But there’s a little part of him that might be a glutton for punishment–that savors the teasing.
The most infuriating part of the whole thing is that he can’t blame you for this whole mess. He shouldn’t be so quick to temptation. You should be able to walk around your own home in whatever you want and not have to worry about the creepy contractor getting flustered every time he looks in your general direction.
But god, you make it hard–double entendre intended. You walk around like you haven’t a care in the world because you don’t; you’re home for summer break after a grueling year at college, and you intend to savor every languid second of it. Your preferred method of savoring just happens to be wearing tight little bikinis that barely hold anything in place as you lounge out by the pool in the Texas heat, or tight leggings that hug your ass so perfectly it almost makes him jealous of the material as you curl up with a book on your couch.
Joel’s a grown man. He can keep it in his pants, no matter how badly he wants you. But you’re not exactly making it easy on him.
Really, it’s Tommy’s fault when the levee breaks. If he could keep his big mouth shut, Joel might’ve been able to maintain the thin control he had over himself. But Tommy goes and makes an off-handed comment about you one night, and that’s the beginning of the downward spiral.
The brothers are both lounging on Joel’s couch after a particularly taxing day of demolition work, beers cradled in hands and the TV droning uselessly with some movie that they’re more staring at than actually watching. It’s late, yet weary muscles are melted so comfortably into the couch that neither of them try to move even after Sarah’s gone off to bed.
Tommy’s eyes flicker over to Joel, then back to the TV. “That girl’s gon’ be trouble for us, brother.”
There’s a question mark in the grunt Joel emits, leaning forward with interest because he knows Tommy’s talking about you without any specification.
Tommy hums in confirmation and takes a sip of his Corona. “She’s always wearin’ those skimpy little outfits a’hers, and she ain’t coy. Must catch that pretty little thing starin’ at your ass even more than I catch you starin’ at hers.”
Joel plays it off as best as he can until Tommy goes home for the night with a half-assed promise to actually be on time in the morning for once. Then he goes up to his room, locks the door, and wraps himself around the spare pillow that lays against his headboard.
He tries so desperately hard not to think about the plump round curve of your ass, or the enticing way you lick your lips, or those damned little bikinis you favor. He grinds his aching cock into the soft pillowcase and tries to think about anything that isn’t you.
But he comes with a muffled growl of your name anyway, face pushed deep into the pillow and hips jerking arrhythmically.
There’s not much he can do now besides clean himself up and try not to think about how thoroughly fucked he is.
The next day is torture because he can feel your gaze lingering. He catches you checking him out on more than one occasion, and you’re brazen about it now. You can tell something has shifted, so you shift with it. Where you once would’ve flushed with heat and hurried away to your room, you now meet his heated eye contact and hold it.
Joel’s jaw hurts that night from the way it’s been hard-set and clenched all day long. He rubs over his sore temporomandibular joints with his long, thick fingers and wills himself to siphon you out from beneath his skin.
It doesn’t work.
The work helps. Laying tile is something he normally considers tedious, but it’s a welcome reprieve in your home because he can get down on his hands and knees and focus on something that isn’t you.
You see the labor he’s going through, and you appreciate it. And really, what kind of host would you be if you didn’t reward his efforts?
It starts with a pitcher of iced tea. It’s made just the way Joel likes it, with light ice and a few slices of lemon. He doesn’t know how you could possibly guess that, but it makes him want you that much more.
And then it’s cookies. Pain-stakingly handmade oatmeal raisin cookies, to be exact. You’re like something out of his most shameful domestic dreams in your cute floral-patterned apron and oven mitts as you pull the tray of cookies out of the oven, and an image of you in nothing but those mitts and that apron flickers through his mind before he can stop it.
All the while you traipse around the house like a mirage–humming along to the yacht rock that drifts from Joel’s stereo, swaying your hips in the kitchen as you put together the most delicious bologna sandwich Joel’s ever eaten, toweling off your soaking wet body after an afternoon in the pool. You’re the worst temptation Joel’s ever had to face.
It becomes his mantra. Be respectful, be respectful, be respectful.
But there’s no respect in your eyes. There’s nothing honorable about the way you bite your lip and smirk when he catches your gaze lingering on him.
Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. But why should he have to play nice if you don’t?
And really, the whole thing is Tommy’s fault. He started it with that first comment about you, and then he goes and calls out sick (read: horribly hungover) this morning. He leaves Joel all alone with you–gives you the perfect opening to pounce.
Or, more accurately, entice Joel into pouncing on you.
He’s just setting his tool bag down, about to decide where he wants to start today, when your beautiful face pops in through the door.
“Good morning, Joel,” you say with that gorgeous smile of yours that makes his knees go a little weak. “No Tommy today?”
He nearly chokes on his own tongue when you step further into the room wearing a plaid button-up he left here earlier in the week and booty shorts so small he has to do a doubletake to make sure you’re actually wearing anything on your lower half. You look fucking good in his shirt, and suddenly all he can think about is pulling you in and bending you over the half-finished vanity–
“N-no. He’s sick,” Joel manages to choke out. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then, “that’s my shirt, isn’t it?”
You look down and rub the time-worn fabric between your fingers like you have to think about it, like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.
“Oh, it must’ve gotten mixed in with our laundry!” The little giggle you let out is so innocent that he almost believes you. Almost. “Here–”
You start to lift the fabric up your torso in the most tantalizingly slow fashion, and he just sits there and watches it happen. He sees the first peek of skin above the waistband of your shorts, and then your beautiful stomach, then the delicious curve of a breast–
He quickly jolts out a hand to stop you in the midst of mentally willing every single molecule in his dick to control itself. “S’alright, darlin’. You keep it. Looks better on you, anyway.”
“Okay,” you acquiesce and let the fabric drop back down into its rightful place. “Can I get you anything? Water maybe?”
He certainly could use it. His neck and face are flushed red, and there’s sweat starting to form at his temples despite the relatively cool temperature within the house.
He realizes, with startling clarity, that he’s at a precipice right now. This might be the only chance he gets to really do something about this burgeoning tension that’s spread thicker than butter between you and him. He’s got a choice to make, and it’s not going to be an easy choice.
“Sure.” It comes out a bit too high-pitched, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Sure, sweetheart. That’d be great.”
“Alright,” you say with that damned giggle again. “I’ll be right back.”
As soon as you leave the room, Joel feels like he can breathe again. It’s so much easier to think straight when you’re not standing there, smiling up at him and looking so damn gorgeous.
He’s got two options, when it boils down to it: fuck you or leave you alone. And he really, really wants to take you. Make you scream his name while he pounds himself into you, fill you so full that you never completely wash him out. And you want it too, he knows you do, you’re practically begging for it.
But he promised himself he would be respectful. That he would keep his hands away from the girl that’s definitely too young and too pure for someone like him–because he knows that if has you, he’ll never be able to get enough.
There’s a very clear and obvious loophole that comes to mind now; a way he could have you without ruining you, a way you could both come out of this satisfied yet mostly intact. Joel’s never been opposed to doing the hard jobs, after all.
He’s got a condom in his wallet and KY jelly in his bag–mostly used for plumbing fittings, but it’ll do the job for this kind of pipework, too.
You come back with a glass of ice water, and his resolve slips. How the hell is he supposed to initiate this? What if you say no and think he’s disgusting? What if you tell your parents? He can’t do this, this was such a horrible idea, he–
Your touch on his back is like a gentle breeze, just a flutter of your fingers to alert him to your return. He flinches a bit at the sudden contact, but when he turns you’re still so achingly close. He can smell the agonizingly sweet aroma of your conditioner and the lotion you slather on your body after showering, and all he wants is more. He wants to wrap you around him, to inhale that scent straight from the source. His resolve is back, just like that.
He doesn’t give himself another opportunity to hesitate. He places one big, meaty palm on your cheek and wraps the other around your hand that holds the glass of ice water to steady you; and then he kisses you with such bruising force it almost knocks the wind out of you.
You moan. You actually moan the second his lips meet yours, and he knows just like that–with a startling moment of clarity–that this isn’t going to be enough. He’s going to take, and take, and take–gorge himself on you until you have nothing left to give. And the strangest thing of the whole matter is that he thinks you’ll actually enjoy his greed.
“Joel–”
“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs as his lips break away from yours–so low and soft in your ear it can’t be anything but a growl. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop right now.”
“I want it,” you affirm.
He searches your eyes, but he finds only earnest honesty and lust. That darkness, that pure and unadulterated want is enough to make his pants tighten. “Fuck.”
He’s so big underneath your roaming hands as he crowds you back against the long bathroom vanity. He lifts you like you’re nothing and sets you on the counter top; he slots himself between your legs and there’s an actual stretch in your muscles to accommodate the width of his hips. One of his wide palms slips behind your head and his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging a little bit to angle your head just the way he wants it. It’s messy and frenzied and desperate–your hands gliding over tee shirt-covered muscle, his tugging your (his) shirt up over your stomach.
“Was starting to think you weren’t interested.” Your voice is heavy and breathy as he breaks away to tug the shirt over your head, casting it aside to lie forgotten on the floor.
“I’ve been tryna convince myself m’not,” he kisses into your neck. “Didn’t work.”
With a sudden roll of his hips, he has you gasping into his neck. He can’t be more than half-hard, but that bulge is formidable. Thick and straining and… suddenly you can’t focus on anything except getting him out of those tight jeans to see what you’re working with.
Your hand just barely fits around him. He’s thick and flushed, getting harder with each passing second as he scatters feather-light kisses over your neck and shoulders. He muffles a groan into your neck as you slowly pump his length–you think he’s seven, maybe eight inches at best guess. The tip of him is flushed red once you get his uncut skin out of the way, and it makes your mouth water. There’s a slight upward curve to him and a long, prominent vein that runs down the left side. It’s porn star material–you didn’t know real people had dicks like this.
“Joel… Jesus, that’s gonna be a tight fit.”
“Oh, don’t worry darlin’,” he hums, thumb ghosting over your clit in a way that makes your entire body jolt. “It ain’t goin’ in there.”
There’s nothing but pure excitement in your voice, despite the anxious gulp that tracks down your throat. “Where…”
“Flip over f’me.”
You follow his instruction with a sort of morbid curiosity, hopping down from the counter before folding yourself over it.
You can feel his eyes on you, as he takes in your willingness. It’s like you’re on display for him, for his appraisal. You’ve still got shorts and a bra on, yet you’ve never felt more exposed.
It’s almost like he can sense your mind swirling–maybe it’s because his is prone to do the same. He sets a gentle hand on your back and smooths it down your spine as he crowds up against you–you can feel the press of his exposed cock against the curve of your ass, and it makes you shiver.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs as he folds over you, caging you in with the delicious weight of his body. His lips trace along the curve of your jaw and down your neck as he speaks. “But I made myself this little promise that I wouldn’t fuck you. You got me actin’ so unprofessional, honey.”
You whine at the sincerity in his voice–all you’ve wanted since the day he started was for him to have you folded over and at his mercy like this.
“You can fuck me,” you whine earnestly. “It’s okay, I promise. Won’t tell.”
“Mmm, I know. You’re too good a girl to go gettin’ me in trouble over somethin’ like this,” he hums–you can hear the condescension in his voice even as he praises you, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “But with all the teasin’ you been doin’... don’t rightly know that you deserve to be fucked.”
“Please–”
“However,” he continues, landing a light smack to your ass in retaliation for your interruption, “might be willin’ to take you anyway, with some conditions. Out of the goodness of my heart.”
He pauses to let you ask, “What conditions?”
And then he pauses again, asking his own question this time. Is he really going to go through with this? But he’s spent the better part of two weeks staring at your ass, and you’ve spent the better part of two weeks putting it on display for him. It’s like you’ve been silently asking him all this time to take it.
His hand slides down from where it rests on your spine, over your tailbone to where he’s been thinking about all this time. He feels the way your muscles tense up even through your shorts, and it sends a thrill he can’t describe coursing through his veins.
“You ever taken someone here before?”
“N-no.” He feels it again as his other hand comes to soothingly rub your hip–that excited-yet-nervous flutter of muscle. You haven’t run away screaming yet, and that’s the biggest motivator he could have to keep going.
“I think you ought to let me. As a thank you, for puttin’ up with all your play,” he growls into your ear.
It’s fucking dirty, the idea of letting a man you hardly know take you in such a taboo way. It’s even dirtier how fucking excited the idea has you.
“You say no right now and I’ll drop it,” he murmurs so sweetly. “Don’t ever have to talk about this again.”
You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished talking–a sly smirk spreading over your lips as you grind back against him hard enough to make him choke on a moan.
“It’s only right,” you affirm. “Gotta make it up to you for how naughty I’ve been.’
His eyes flash dangerously as he grinds his cock against you again, smearing precome against the flimsy fabric of your shorts. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”
He has your bottoms and panties down around your ankles in a flash, and he actually groans at the sight of your sticky cunt all puffy and wet and on display for him.
He can’t resist the urge to swipe a finger through your folds, delighting in the string of shiny arousal that connects his finger to your core when he pulls away. “She wants it so bad, hmm? Such a shame she ain’t gettin’ any.”
It tugs a moan from your throat, especially when he drags as much slick as he can up to circle your tightest hole. He feels the way you flutter with apprehension, and he leans back down to kiss the corner of your jaw.
“Gonna get you nice and ready, I promise. M’not gonna hurt you, baby girl.”
“Thank you, da–” You almost lost yourself there for a second–almost laid your whole hand of cards out on the table for him to see. You try not to get flustered over the slip–you simply clear your throat and try again. “Thank you, Joel.” But you aren’t nearly as smooth as you hope to be.
In a flash Joel’s free hand is lifting your head, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. They’re so much darker than normal, and it only serves to make you wetter.
“What’d you call me?”
“J-Joel.”
His hand slips down to your throat and gives it a warning squeeze–his jaw is set, you know he isn’t playing. “Try again, and tell the truth this time.”
“D… daddy.”
You try to hide your face, to cower in shame, but he won’t let you. He smashes his lips to yours at the exact second his first finger probes that tight, waiting entrance.
“Good girl,” he murmurs as he slowly breaches you, using your own slick to guide the way. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”
You can’t do anything but gasp, hands clutching for dear life to the edge of the counter. This feels different, and not in the way you were expecting it to. It’s tight, sure, and it feels foreign, but it also feels so much better than you ever could’ve expected it to. The subtle stretch around his thick finger is addicting.
Joel’s jaw drops at the expression on your face; you already look so thoroughly fucked-out, and he’s barely even started. “Fuck.You like this, hmm? Like feelin’ daddy’s fingers gettin’ you ready for his big cock?”
The only response he gets is a wrecked little whimper, and he props your chin up again to meet his heated gaze. “Talk to me. Gotta talk to me, tell me how you’re feelin’, or I’m gonna stop.”
“Fuck!” It’s shriller than you want it to be and you would feel pathetic if you weren’t so thoroughly overwhelmed with this new sensation. “Don’t stop daddy!”
“Feels good, yeah? How long has daddy’s little slut wanted to try this?”
But there’s no way you can be expected to answer, not when he’s adding another finger to the onslaught. Not when your legs are already shaking and you’re thinking about just how many fingers he’s going to have to use to get you ready for the massive cock you can feel throbbing against your thigh.
He retracts just as suddenly as he started, and a needy little whine escapes from your throat involuntarily.
He can’t help chuckling as he reaches for the bottle of KY jelly he’d dug out of his bag while you were getting him water. It feels like it’s been years since you left the room on that little errand for him–definitely not the barely ten minutes it’s actually been.
“Relax, baby girl. I’m comin’ right back.”
You feel the cool drizzle of the water-based substance over your hole and it forces another whine from your throat. It’s met with his thick fingers again, spreading the jelly over your hole before plunging two in knuckle-deep.
“Atta girl.” His voice is thick and sweet as honey as he slowly works his fingers, thrusting and scissoring at an achingly slow pace. “Doin’ so good f’me.”
“Daddy–”
“I know,” he coos. “I know, it’s so much, isn’it?”
All you can manage to do is nod your head, arms shaking under the strain of holding yourself upright. He sees the way your limbs tremble and he adds a third finger just to be extra cruel–although he steadies you by grabbing your hip firmly with his free hand, keeping you in place as he fucks you open with his fingers.
Everything is so hot. There’s a sticky sheen of sweat covering your forehead and your chest; you can feel your own slick dripping down your thighs.
And then his free hand drops down to thumb at your clit, and everything twists in your gut so fast it nearly gives you whiplash.
Within seconds you’re coming–no pretense, no warning. It explodes white-hot from your belly and sweeps through you to the tips of your fingers and toes with flash flood speed. One second there’s nothing more than pleasant anticipation–the next, you’re shaking and convulsing and sobbing Joel’s name as you fight with every cell in your body to remain upright.
He does his part to work you through it, thumb swiping even circles on your sensitive clit, pulling his fingers from you to pin you in place on the counter so he can continue working you through it.
“I know, I know,” he coos so sweetly in your ear over the sound of your moans and cries. “You’re doin’ so good baby, let yourself have it.”
It’s minutes before you’re breathing normally again–your legs are cramping from trying so desperately to support your shaky weight. Joel’s hands are soothing you the whole time once he lets up the onslaught on your clit; it’s like he’s mapping you, tracing over every dip and curve so tenderly you could almost forget what this encounter really is.
“Doin’ okay?” He husks into your ear–and then he’s folding himself over you again, and you can feel the insistent press of his hard cock against the curve of your ass.
For some reason, that’s what really makes it sink in. That’s the moment you realize that this is actually going to happen–that you want it to happen. Joel’s about to take something from you that no one has ever taken before, and you want him to. You’re offering it willingly, even.
You hum in response and buck your hips back, giving him a delicious taste of friction that pulls a ground from his throat. “Mhm. I’m ready, daddy.”
“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He gives your hip a light pat before pulling away for a moment, and you somehow have the presence of mind to jump up on the deep countertop because you know your legs won’t be able to support you through what’s about to happen.
There’s a smile on his handsome face when he turns back towards you, lube and condom in hand. “That how you want it, baby?”
Despite everything that’s already happened, you feel so much more exposed like this. You’re completely naked, and he’s fully clothed with his pants shoved down just enough to free his dick. Even as you spread your legs to admit him between your thighs, you feel shy. And he senses it, the slight apprehension in your gaze, because his smile softens even further; he sets the lube and condom down on the counter next to you so he can grasp the collar of his worn t-shirt and tug it up over his head.
He’s beautiful for a nearly forty-year-old man, you think. He’s firm and toned, but there’s a softness about him that you can’t help admiring, especially around his belly. Your eyes eagerly lap up the soft curve of his tummy, following the tantalizing promise of his treasure trail to his cock, hard and aching for you. The ruddy, flushed tip is weeping for you; you don’t know that you’ve ever seen someone so turned on before, and it’s a heady rush of power.
He chuckles as he sees your hungry eyes taking him in–he raises one big hand to cup your chin and pull your gaze up to meet his. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so good spread out f’me like this. You sure you’re ready f’this?”
“Fuck yes,” you say with an alluring little wiggle of your hips, and that’s more than enough for him.
He pulls his bottom lip between even rows of shiny white teeth as he rolls the condom down over his length, and it’s actually intimidating like this. He’s so big and imposing and it makes your legs want to close, but–
“M’gonna go slow, okay?” He vows, voice gentle as his big, brown eyes look into yours. His fingers wrap tightly around the half-used tube of KY jelly, and he leans down to kiss you when he sees the nervous gulp that bobs your throat. “Gonna be real gentle, I promise. You tap out at any time and we’re done, ‘kay?”
“Okay,” you affirm, and you feel a lot better. As out of the blue as this is, as little as you really know Joel, you can tell he’s being sincere. You trust him; you know he won’t hurt you.
The first press of his aching tip against your hole is enough to make you choke on a gasp. He’s big, and even with all of his attentive prep work to get you ready for him it’s a tight fit. You can tell it’s affecting him, too. His eyes flutter shut and he bites down hard on his bottom lip, and you can tell that he’s fighting with all his strength not to just shove himself deep inside you. You appreciate his restraint more than words can convey, so you don’t even try; you hook your arms around his neck and pull him in for a deep, messy, desperate kiss instead. His tongue licks eagerly into your mouth as he eases his hips further and further towards yours, and it’s a nice distraction from the nearly overwhelming stretch of your muscle trying to accommodate his girth.
He shudders when his hips finally meet yours, cock stuffed to the hilt into your ass. “God damn baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You doin’ okay?”
You whine at the first roll of his hips, nodding your head rapidly because words won’t come. It’s such a foreign sensation, being stretched and breached like this. Not unpleasant necessarily, but so brain-scramblingly different that all you can do is dig your nails into his strong, broad shoulders and hold on for dear life as he actually starts to fuck into you.
It’s nasty, and you’ve never been so wet in your life. You hear the sticky squelch of lube as he thrusts his hips, shoving his cock deeper than you imagined possible. Your own wetness seeps from your neglected cunt and drenches him, dripping down around his cock and wetting the dense curls at the apex of his sex.
“Shit baby, you’re takin’ daddy’s cock so well,” he whines breathlessly; one arm hooks under your knee so he can spread you open a bit wider for him, and then the other hand returns to your puffy, arousal swollen clit.
You make what has to be the most high-pitched sound you’ve ever made as his index and middle fingers start a torturously slow pace on the little bud. “Fuck daddy!”
“I know,” he coos–you think that soft, breathy, Southern twang is going to actually put you in your grave. “I know, you wanna come, dontcha? It’s okay baby, daddy’s gonna make you come all over his cock just the way you need.”
His hips pick up the pace in time with his fingers, and all you can do is lay there limply like a ragdoll. The pleasure is so much different than what you’re used to, but it’s good. It’s amazing, the feeling of him balls deep in your guts in tandem with his ministrations on your clit, in a way you never imagined it could be.
“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me,” he growls, hitching your leg a bit higher over his hip so he can thrust even deeper. “Fuck, m’not gonna last long like this. You’re gonna make daddy come so hard in this tight little ass.”
His words are accentuated with a little smack to the side of your ass, and it makes you moan louder still. Your head rolls back as he picks up the pace of his fingers, swirling hard and messy circles with reckless abandon. He’s not trying to prolong it anymore–he’s going for the kill.
“Fuck daddy!” Your hands scrabble for purchase on his smooth, freckled skin as he pounds harder into you. “W-want it, please, want you to come in my ass–”
“Gonna give it to you, impatient girl,” he growls deep in his chest. “You gimme one first.”
Your entire body jolts when he brings his hand down on your sensitive cunt before groaning at the way your arousal sticks to his hand and makes his fingers shine.
“She wants t’be stuffed so full, doesn’t she?” He purrs, fingers dancing so fucking teasingly around your fluttering cunt that it makes your eyes water. “Bet she’d love to be chock full’a cock right now.”
“Joel–”
“Now, now, baby, no whinin’. It’s unbecomin’ for such a sweet little lady,” he grunts, and the condescension dripping from his tone is almost enough to make you come on its own. “You’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful for it, aintcha?”
“Yesyesyesplease–”
His fingers have barely returned to your clit before you’re coming again. This one is even more powerful than before–a hurricane instead of a flash flood. Your entire body trembles with the ebbing flow of pleasurable waves–the words you’re panting aren’t even discernible English anymore.
The way you clench and flutter around him in your own pleasure pulls him over the edge faster than anything ever has before. He comes hard, chest clenching hard around his breath, cock twitching more violently than anything you’ve ever felt before as he spills his load into the condom.
It’s a long, breathless moment before he pulls himself from the vice-like grip you have around his dick. He pulls out with a deep, long groan–it makes you giggle, because it’s the most over-dramatic sound you’ve ever heard in your life.
There’s a beat, and then he starts laughing, too. At the sweet sound of your laugh, at the way he feels like he just ran a marathon, at the absolute absurdity of this whole thing. His laughter is so sweet and gut-deep and infectious, and it only serves to make you laugh harder. For a good few moments it’s just you and Joel, half naked, panting and sweaty, doubled over in laughter.
And then the bathroom door swings open and Tommy barges in.
“I’m feelin’ a helluva lot better after sleepin’ in, what’s so funny–” He stops dead in his tracks; he sees you naked and spread out on the counter and Joel disheveled and sweating. Neither of you are laughing very much anymore as you both scramble to cover yourselves up.
Tommy quirks a brow, a smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Joel. “Well, well, well. What have we here?”
You don’t know how to answer when you’re so mortified, so you do the only thing you can think of–you dart out of the room and down the hall to the safety of your bedroom as fast as your shaky legs can carry you.
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3.3k, joel miller x virgin f!reader
joel master list
Summary: Joel wants to find a bed before you go all the way, but neither of you can wait that long.
A/N: Follows ✨ Fires (1.6, prequel), Aches (900), and Thoughts (1.6), but can read alone.
WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap (20/50s), still only one sleeping bag, pining, c*ck hunger, fingering, grinding, masturbation, oral m receiving, cum eating, unsafe P in V, reluctantly pulling out, loss of virginity, pet names, praise, POV alternates, NO Y/N.
“God have mercy,” he mutters to himself.
He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet, he tells himself . . . Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn . . .
-------
It’s all over your face. He’s never seen anything like it, the way you crave his cock. You shamelessly stare at his pants. His whole body, really. You were bad enough before you touched it, and it’s only gotten worse. You can’t focus, you can’t listen. It’s dangerous. He should put a stop to this, take it away cold turkey. Sleep back-to-back. But you both have needs, and he's not gonna do that.
Joel feels like he might as well be a virgin himself, it's been so long for him. Frankly, he’s dying to put it in you just as much as you long to have it. He’s been trying to wait until Jackson so he can do it somewhere safe, somewhere a little nicer, more comfortable.
He wants to wait and make sure it's nice and special for you, but good lord, you’re makin' it hard. You make the sweetest little sounds when he touches you, and even when he doesn’t, like in your sleep. You ask him things like, “doesn’t sex feel better than hands?” He tells you half-truths, like “not always.” Of course it would with you. Of course it would.
-
You’re in the forest. With dusk approaching, you're just about to set up camp while there's still light. Joel is taking a leak at the edge of a small clearing, calculating mileage in his head, counting down the days ‘til you should get there. His back could use a real bed, too. He's shaking his dick dry and a twig snaps behind him. His head whips around and he reaches for his gun.
It’s you. God damnit, he could’ve killed you.
“Can I see it?” you ask.
“What the hell are ya doin’ over here?”
“I just wanna see it.” You look down toward his jeans. “Can I?”
It’s fair that you’re curious, he knows that. You mentioned it the night before with your hand wrapped around it, I wanna see it, really see it, I bet it’s good looking. You’ve only felt it at night and caught glimpses in the moonlight. At the time, he mindlessly reassured you, you’ll see it, baby, you'll see my cock, and he should’ve known you’d spring this on him.
“Not now,” he mutters, trying to calm his heart rate. “Can ya gimme a second, honey?”
“Okay.” He can hear the sadness, practically see the disappointment on your face. God damnit. He tucks himself away and zips up. You're only about eight feet away. “Now?”
“No. Ain’t nothin’ to see right now.” You probably don’t realize what a big difference it can make.
“What do you mean”
“Just trust me, it’s not how you wanna see it.”
“Why?"
“Cause it ain’t as. . .”
“Ain’t as what?”
“Nothin’, baby. Just not the right time.”
“Better if we’re close together, right?” You step closer.
He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes a deep breath. “This ain’t the time or the place, honey.”
When he looks at you again, your face has fallen, and you mumble, “K.”
He puts a big, comforting hand on your shoulder and walks you back to where y'all are setting up camp. “When we find a bed, I’ll show ya. . .”
"And when we find a bed," you repeat. Don't say it, don't say it, he prays to God you don't say it. "We can do it, right?" He doesn't answer. "You can put your cock inside me, right?"
Fuck, you're gonna drive this old man crazy. At least one of you needs your wits about you if you'll ever make it to Jackson. "We'll see," he sighs.
After a moment of silence, your voice trembles as you ask, "We'll see? Why not yes?"
"Cause we ain't gonna make it there at this rate," he complains, then sighs with instant regret. "I'm sorry, honey. But you gotta try to knock it off with this stuff."
You swallow and your eyes glimmer. "Sorry," you whisper.
He turns away to adjust himself, then sits down on the ground, leaning back against a log and extends an arm for you. "S'okay, c'mere."
You sit on the ground next to him. He squeezes your shoulder and changes the topic to twenty questions.
——
He’s nicer at night. He’s nice in the day, too, mostly. Once in a while, you can tell you’re annoying him, and you feel bad. If only he knew how many times you thought about it and didn't say something, he’d appreciate your efforts. It’s practically all you think about. It’s even worse now that you feel it in your hand every night, but the last thing you want is for that to stop.
You had been thinking about it all day when you finally asked what you thought was an easy request – if you could just see it, just a glimpse while he already had it out anyway.
Even if you don’t get to see it, at least it’s easy enough to recall what it feels like. Smooth, warm, and stiff. Soft veins, tiny wrinkles. A leaking slit.
—--
“Can I taste it?” you ask one night with your little fist wrapped around his shaft.
He groans quietly. “Yeah, you wanna taste it?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, your hand sticky with the lube of your own slick, a bead of precum under your thumb. You smear the precum and let go of his hard cock, making it slap against his stomach. You take your thumb into your mouth and hum, “Mmm,” at the salty taste.
“Whatcha think,” he whispers breathily.
“Can I have your cock in my mouth?”
“Oh, baby, ‘course ya can.” The zipper of the sleeping bag jingles, then you hear the satisfying zzz as it unzips. He folds it down and you get up on your knees. You bend at the hip and don't waste a second. You wrap your thumb and forefinger around the base, trying and failing to make your digits touch.
Then, your lips wrap around the head. He inhales sharply through his teeth.
“Did I hurt you?” you ask.
“God no, honey. Go ‘head, taste it all ya want.”
You curiously tongue the slit and suck for more.
“Oh god damn,” he breathes.
You lick around it under the crown and you’re salivating.
He wraps his hand around yours and moves it up and down, then leaves you be. “Use your spit, honey.” You let it dribble out of your mouth and onto his tip and catch it in your fist. You kitten lick the shaft, tasting your own tang, and letting your saliva fall out of your mouth as it accumulates, occasionally sliding the open ring of your finger and thumb up and down but mostly forgetting because you’re so focused on it in your mouth.
“Ya like that, sweetie? ya like how we taste?” You take a couple inches into your mouth then suck a little more of it in. It twitches against your tongue. The biggest vein throbs.
“Alright, baby,” he pants and takes it from you. He urgently pulls up his own shirt, slides his hand a few times, then comes with a groan, his voice and pulsing manhood making you ache with need, even though he already made you come. You stay there on your knees. In the dim moonlight, you watch his tummy rise and fall with the shiny trail leading to, and pooling in, his navel.
“Can I taste that, too?” you ask.
“Yeah,” he nods.
You dip your tongue in the trail below his navel. It’s thicker, headier, saltier than the precum. It’s not every day you get to taste something new. It’s not often at all. It's delicious.
“Like it,” you whisper.
“Yeah? take all ya want.”
You lick and seal your lips as you suck it up. You pause to pluck a hair from your teeth, then continue to his navel. You dip your tongue in and his stomach flexes abruptly. You take your mouth off and pause. “Sorry,” you whisper.
“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout.”
You tongue his navel, then suck, and he inhales a chest full of air as you do it, his stomach rising into your lips. You lick up every drop.
“Good girl,” he sighs and cups your cheek. “Such a good girl," he sighs.
—
All day you think about it in your mouth, in your hand, resting hard against your back, between your thighs. You imagine it all over your body. Doesn’t matter if he’s pressing it up against your hip or resting it in the crook of your elbow, God, you just want to feel it somewhere. You try not to think about it inside you too much because that makes you want it so bad, you could cry. Like really cry.
It’s not a want. It's a need. You see it happening everywhere you look. You see a tree, and you imagine him sitting on the forest floor against it, holding his cock at attention, ready for you to sit on it. You see another tree and he’s pinning you up against it with your legs wrapped around him, jeans pulled down under his ass as he rails you. You see a patch of moss and cluster of ferns that would be a nice pillow with him on top of you.
You think about it, and you dream about it, too. You can’t help that. He starts wearing jeans to sleep, and you can’t feel the shape of him quite as well against you, but it doesn’t matter. The fact that it’s there and it’s hard is enough to drive you mad. Even after he gets you off, it's bound to come back at some point in the night. Worst case scenario, you lose sleep over it. Best case, it works its way into your dreams.
----
One night, you're moaning in your sleep again, and Joel can hardly take it. His cock is painfully stiff and the strain against his jeans makes him ache. His hips press into you on their own; he can't stop them. All he can do is take off his jeans in hopes that being free of the rigid confines will lend some relief. He was wearing them as an extra layer between the two of you for this exact scenario, but he can no longer bear it.
On one hand, he’s taking precautions, like keeping his jeans on. But on the other hand, in the heat of the moment, when he’s touching you, he’s taking measures to prepare you, and to see how ready you are. Lately, he scissors his fingers, inserts three to see how you take it. “Good girl, that’s real good, honey.” He curls them inside you, “Ohhh, baby, you’re takin’ this real good.”
God, he wants a bed for this. You deserve a fuckin' mattress at the very least. He’s gotta wait. And yet now he finds himself taking off his jeans. He carefully removes them without waking you up. He lies there with his fist around his cock for a minute, still in his boxers, doing nothing but softly squeezing, as if that’ll make it go away. Then he resigns himself to the magnetism of your body. He curves his form around yours again and silently sighs as the hardness in his boxers rests against you and he wraps you in a hug. He manages not to thrust against your ass, but in no time, you're pushing yourself back against him. "Joel," you mumble in your sleep.
"God have mercy," he mutters to himself.
He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. . . not yet. . . not yet, he tells himself, taking deep calming breaths. Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn he wants to take that tight little hole.
"Joel,” you whine and push back on him again. He can't stand it. He really can't. He has to wake you up.
He whispers, "Whatcha dreamin 'bout, sweetie?" then feels your breathing change.
When you blink awake, your hips are slowly moving, pushing your ass back into Joel's hard cock until you stop yourself.
"Sorry," you mumble. "Did I wake you up?" The sweet sound of your voice isn’t helping.
"Don't be sorry, baby," he murmurs into your hair.
"I dunno how to stop it," you whisper. "I'm sorry."
"Nothin' to be sorry 'bout, baby doll." He hugs you tight. “Don’t be embarrassed.” His cock swells harder against you. He whispers in your ear, "They want each other real bad, that's all."
"I know."
"Have a good dream?"
You sigh. “Yeah.”
“‘bout what?”
“I dunno if you wanna hear it,” you tell him. Fair enough, he's told you to knock it off, after all.
“Sure I do, honey. Was it you and me?”
“Yeah,” you wedge your hand between your legs.
"You want a hand?"
“Yeah.”
“What’d ya dream?” he asks as he reaches into your panties. "God damn," he whispers. You're soaked, swollen, and your clit is throbbing against his hand. "Poor thing." He thrusts his hardness against your ass. "No wonder you're tryin' to get at this, huh?"
You're quiet.
"No wonder ya can't stop thinkin' ‘bout it." He thrusts against you again and moans softly. "What'd ya dream, baby?"
“It was. . .” you can hardly form words thinking about it. It was so vivid, so real. “We were right here, like this.”
“Yeah?” He uses your ample moisture to lightly rub your clit.
He begins to make peace with himself that this might happen before he wants. He hooks his fingers into your panties. “Let’s take these off for a lil bit, hmm? Let her breathe.”
“Okay.” You bend your knees as he pulls your soaked panties down.
—-
"We were right here like this, in the dream?" He repeats.
“You took it out of your pants,” you whisper. He moans softly, takes his hand away, and jostles behind you. Then you feel his naked cock against your skin. Your breath hitches and you whimper at the contact. He returns his hand between your legs and lazily circles your clit, pressing his naked dick against you.
"Took it out like this?" He asks soft and deep.
"Yeah,"
He thrusts against you and whispers in your ear, "Then what?"
"You put it between my legs."
He inhales sharply then wedges his cock between your thighs, shuddering as he slides it forward along your dripping seam and the head meets his fingers on your clit.
You tilt your hips and he whispers, "Oh, baby. Like this?"
"No, you put it inside," you whisper.
Joel's breath hitches and he twitches against your heat. You moan. He slides slowly through your folds to your clit and back. He tries to slow down and think it over, but there are no thoughts, just his stiff, aching cock and your tight little pussy begging for it.
——
“Will you do that,” you ask, looking over your shoulder but not enough to meet his eyes.
Joel takes a deep breath. “You think I should? Don’t wanna wait for a bed?” He thrusts in small pulses. “Just a few days, baby.”
“They wanna be together real bad,” you whisper. “how they’re meant to be," you remind him.
Joel groans at your words. “I know, baby doll.” He takes a deep breath. “How’d it feel in your dream?”
“Full, really full,” you tell him, then sigh. “Felt so big.’
“Ohh, fuck,” Joel breathes into your hair and slides his cock against you, wet and stiff.
“It was like I was hugging you with my, um,” you say, then swallow and tilt your hips. "Hugging it."
“God damn,” he sighs. He pulls his cock back, and as he slides it forward again, it catches at your entrance. You spread your thighs ever so slightly. “You sure ‘bout this,” he confirms, and uses the hand between your legs to nestle his tip just inside. You gasp.
“Yeah,” you nod. “Yes, please. Joel, please,” you whine. You push back on him with a small grunt, stretching yourself open on his tip.
“Oh god, baby,” he sighs, then he holds you still and slowly pushes himself inside with a quiet groan muffled by your hair. “Fuck, you’re–ohh, you’re tight.” You gasp as his girth parts your walls and your body makes room for him. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you nod urgently, and he twitches inside you.
You shiver with pleasure as he pushes further and sighs, “Oh, baby.”
“Joel,” you whine, “its so big”
“Too big?”
“No,” you reassure him. “I want it.”
He pushes the rest of himself in until his pelvis is flush. He breathes heavily and mutters, “fuck.”
You moan and push back on him. “s’perfect,” you whine.
“you like havin’ me in here?”
“I love it,” you say.
“As much as the dream?”
“More than the dream.”
“What happened next?” he asks
“Then you it moved like you do in my hand.”
“Yeah,” he begins to rock his hips, his thick cock dragging inside you. “Like this?”
“nnngghh–yeah,” you nod then gasp as you're filled by his length again. “ohhh,” you moan. "And then you came inside—”
He groans, then pants as he’s moving inside you, “Ohh fuck, sweetie I can’t—ohh, I can’t do that, uggghh–god damn.”
“Felt so good, like a massage”
“Ohh, baby, please don’t–”
“And warm”
“Fuck,” he breathes and covers your mouth with his free hand, bicep flexing under your neck as he does it. No way he’s gonna last with you talking like that.
He begins to slowly move again and you whimper. You’re right, it is like you’re hugging him. You’re so tight and wet for him, taking his cock so good.
"Good girl," he whispers, burying his length in you every second or so, only pulling back halfway each time.
"Such a good girl, wantin' my cock so bad." He moans. "Waitin' all this time—uggh." You push your hips back to meet his thrusts. "That's my girl, takin' me so good," his next thrust is harder and you moan. "Yeah, just like that," he breathes. His hand teases your clit as he fucks you. You whimper and he repeats, "just like that," his voice shakier, his breath heavier on your ear, “yeah.”
You moan into his hand, and his fingers circle your clit. “C’mon, baby,” he pants. “Gonna come on my cock?” You nod and hum your agreement. “Better do it now, then, you can do it.”
You let go and your clit pulses madly, your walls clench down on him. It feels so good, your eyes well up in tears.
“Ohh, baby,” he sighs, and suddenly pulls out. He replaces his cock with two fingers that your cunt begins to hug. “Such a good girl, squeezin’ my fingers.”
His aching arousal presses against your ass, and he humps against you as he fingers you. “Ohh, yea--ohhhh.” His cock begins to pulse, spreading a silky warmth across your skin. He moans and sighs as you finish coming on his fingers and his balls empty.
—-
He uses a shirt of his to clean you up. As his breathing calms down, he hears you sniffling. “Hey, hey, you okay, sweetie?”
You’re fine, more than fine, but you can’t talk.
“Shit,” he mutters to himself when you don’t answer. He peeks over your side, gently stroking your arm. “Hey, c’mere, talk to me, sweetie.” You turn around and face him. “You okay, honey?”
You nod and smile at him with watery eyes.
His brows knit as he finishes catching his breath. He kisses you on the forehead and wraps you in a hug. You sniffle again and he speaks into your hair. “I know that was a big deal for you, baby.” He pulls his head back and tilts your chin up. “It was big for me too, okay?” You nod. He reads your eyes, then presses his lips into yours. He reads your face again, then repeats the kiss and you kiss him back. He kisses you on the forehead and holds you, stroking your head. You fall asleep holding each other face-to-face.
-----
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Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Your comments and reblogs go a long way in motivation so if you liked it plz consider saying something 🫶. There's a virgin section on my joel master list right above the one shots. Left in Lincoln is a pretty similar Joel, in terms of how he is with you sexually. For more Joel POV, the most recent raider, Night Air, has a lot.
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yeah sure Across the Spiderverse is about being doomed by the narrative and knowing you’re doomed by the narrative, but also it’s about how different people react to that, and how no one reaction is the right one, like Peter B. has lived as Spider-man long enough that’s gone through most of the “canon events” and he’s in a place where he’s like “yeah, alright, I can work with this” and is afraid of doing anything drastic because after being a screw-up for so long and finally, finally getting it right wouldn’t you be afraid making a mistake again?
And Miguel is angry but resigned because the one time he tried to defy the narrative it spat in his face and beat him to the ground. So now he’s doing what he genuinely belives is to everyone’s benefit. Without a hint of flexibility. He’s even angrier when Miles suggests that fate can be defied both because he’s convinced Miles is wrong and is going to get people killed and also if Miles is right than Miguel has to reckon with the fact that he’s convinced so many Spider-people to just “follow the script” and let their loved ones died because he was convinced there was no fighting the narrative. That not everyone is as doomed as he is.
And Hobie, who knows he might be doomed but is dead-set on spitting in the narrative’s face for as long as he can regardless. A different kind of acceptance. A kind of acceptance that’s covered in spikes and has teeth. If the narrative is gonna take him down he’s taking as much bad guys as he can before he bites it. And he’s isn’t going to be nice or polite about it, and he sure as shit ain’t gonna be quiet. Proper fucking punk, right there.
And Gwen, who is on the fence, but is sad and tired and just doesn’t have the strength to try anymore. She doesn’t have a home to come back to, or at least doesn’t think so, she’s stressed out and angry and she found out that as Spider-Woman that was always going to happen to her. She’s ready to give up, because being doomed is kinda freeing, if she was always doomed to fail, lose her friend, lose her dad, than it takes the pressure off. Sad as it was she could live with that. Until she sees Miles bite and fight and scream when he finds out he’s doomed, and that one little push gives her the courage to try and find out just how doomed she really is.
And Miles!! Free spirit, radical free thinker, “just let him spread his wings, man” Miles Morales. Who is trying so, so hard to figure out what his narrative even is, but is determined that he can figure it out, that he can spread his wings and manage on his own and find his place and be himself. Miles finding out he might be doomed is a slap in the face that he’s completely unprepared for. And he denies it completely. He refuses to lay down and just take it, he’s going to punch and kick and save everyone, no matter that every other Spider-person, Ham and Miguel and Gwen and every one, who’ve been doing this spider thing for much long tell him he can’t. And this radical rejection earns him pity, and earns him enemies, but he’s not backing down. He can’t back down. Because even if he is doomed he’ll never be able to forgive himself if he doesn’t even make an attempt.
Across the spider-verse is so fucking good you guuuuuysss
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Hobie Headcannons cs some of y’all be treating this man like he’s some white goth nga that’s never had black experiences 😭😭 these are js off the top of my head so don’t tweak out… JUH VIBE
He’s most likely Jamaican/British or African/British because he’s from the UK
He has had multiple people try to force him into playing basketball at least once because he’s 6’5
“Man, so you telling me you ain’t never tried going D1?”
“Never even played.”
“NIGGA WHAT?”
Has gotten his hand popped multiple times from touching his hair while getting it done
“How many do you have left?”
“Boy move that damn hand.”
Gives horrible advice then says “but I don’t kno, thats just me”
“She cheated on me bru. Like cheated. Called me ON FACETIME while they was hunchin.”
“Me personally I would find the guy and start a gas leak in their house while his family is sleeping. But ion kno, that’s just me tho.”
Played soccer as a kid with a makeshift paper soccer ball
Was one of those kids who were forced to finish their plate before leaving the dinner table so he would sit at the table till the next day playing with his food
Illegally listens to and downloads most of the music he likes
“Wanna do a Spotify blend?”
“Y’all use that shi?”
“who df are you bro…”
Will side eye you till you burst out laughing if you both see something crazy in public
Sung chi-chi man religiously as a child before he knew what the song meant (iykyk)
Takes pictures of white people with braids or locs
Hobie: Attachment: 1
disgusting creatures…
Hangs trash bags on his doorknobs around the house
Had entire debates as a child with older people at the cookout on why he should be able to eat ribs instead of hotdogs
“These steaks for the adults, go grab a lil hotdog and a juice.”
“But why? Can’t we both eat and enjoy the same things without you having to dehumanize me and view me only as a child without preferences for food?”
“Boy go get that fuckin hotdog and caprisun get out my face.”
Had his hairline pushed back astronomically far when he was little (Nigerian boy canon event)
On the other hand he probably never had his hair cut as a kid and started free-forming when he was young (I’m conflicted between both)
Constantly had a smart mouth as a kid (he still does), like CONSTANTLY. Once he got his lips snatched and balled into a fist
Would steal, get caught and say is “it cause I’m black?”
“Yo, were you stealing back there?”
“Why bruv? Cause I’m black?”
“Nevermind.”
Touches hot ass food with his bare hands. Like he will flip pancakes with his hands.
Can literally sleep anywhere.. like anywhere. People in his band have pictures of him hunched over on sinks, sleeping on bathroom floors, in bathtubs with the curtains wrapped around him, on the bus. Anywhere you can think of.
He doesn’t spend much money on birthday gifts or gifts in general. He likes to make things by hand even if he has to spend a few weeks
After his shows he loves to meet people in the crowd, even if they freak out. He isn’t really for the idolizing so he doesn’t know how to express his emotions too much on that.
“OH MY GOD HOBIE!?!”
“i aint think i was that special but thanks luv”
• His jacket makes HELLA noise and he doesn’t realize it. Just like if he had beads in his hair.
“imma get bro good this time..”
“Hobie don’t even try to scare me, i hear that big ass jacket thumpin down the hallway.”
• The first time he kissed a girl with lip piercings like his, they got caught on each other. They sat there for almost half and hour trying to untangle each other without hurting each other.
• He’s definitely been called a few different celebrities before, none really looked like him.
“Are you playboi carti?!”
“Bruv.”
over.
“Your that rockstar dude lancey right?”
“bru…”
and over.
“you Opium?”
“I’m starting to feel this is lowkey sterotypical…”
and over again.
• When he’s in the pit at concerts he looks out for the younger people towards the front to make sure they don’t get thrashed around too hard.
“you good young’n?”
“I CANT FEEL MY FACE”
“that’s cool too”
• He only really steals from big corporations, not small family owned places. Just out of respect. Even when they say he can take things for free he still pays, maybe a few dollars over budget.
• He loves collecting trinkets and little things he finds on the streets or backstage. He has multiple spoons, buttons and scrap fabrics laying around
• When he first learned about capitalism he realized it everywhere, like EVERYWHERE. That boy was pissed.
• He loves girls who can beat him tf up, like whoop his ass. Or girls who will cuss him tf out. Sometimes you both will be arguing and he’ll just sit back and let you go off on him.
anyways yawl that’s it lmk if I should drop some more this was fun asl to make 😛
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💕🛁Shits n’ bubbles 🛁💕
(Like shits n’ giggles haha get it..? Y’a..? No.. y’a okay-)
Request from friend, co written by her too <3
CW: Shower fucking, husband and wife with family, that’s about it Fr
(Both the reader and Bakugo are fully grown adults and are parents so don’t come for me- Minors you should alr know, so if you get in trouble- that ain’t on me 🤷🏽♀️)
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“Nnngh fuck..baby..” Katsuki groaned as he held your waist against his in the relaxation of your shared shower.
The hot steam covered you both and coated all the glass possible in your bathroom.
The feeling of his skin knocking against yours was sending you over into heaven.
He’s sitting down on the shower seat, legs spread wide open with you sat right where you belong, in his lap riding him good and hard.
It had been so long, too long, since you’ve had him snugly inside you and boy were you so so sensitive.
With being parents with busy Hero schedules, there isn’t a lot of times where you two can be intimate like this, so when you both were off for the night with no late patrols- you both took what you could.
It was currently around 2:00 AM, and you couldn’t feel more needy for him.
He was so handsome, so beautiful, so yours…
“Mmmh..Katsuki!-“ You whined into his neck as you basically held on for dear life-
He groaned in response before he started to thrust back up, colliding against your movements causing you to arch your back, pressing the front of your body against his chest.
Your nails gripped into shoulders as while your toes curled up as well.
He knew you were close..
He smiled at this before landing two hard smacks on your left ass cheek.
He heated up his hand in the process, leaving a faint print on your skin.
That knot you’ve grown to know so well was starting to swell, ready to burst
“Come on, give it to me…cum on it baby..”
That’s what sent you over board..
You squeezed him tightly as you squirted, your release mixing with his as he came as well
Your chests heaved up and down in unison before being your lips together
It had honestly been a long week and you wouldn’t really had it end any way
At least that’s what you thought, before you felt your husband subtly thrust into you again, even as out of breath as he was.
“I’m not finshed yet, I wanna’ round three,”
You couldn’t even speak as another knot began to form,
Your eyes remained closed as mouth stayed open, but nothing came out
The only sounds available was the sound of love making and the water rushing out the shower head-
*KNOCK KNOCK*
You and Katsuki both jumped at the random knock on your bathroom door
“Mommy? Daddy? Are you in there??”
Both you and your husbands eyes widened at the sound of your 6 year old daughters voice
“S h i t-“
The knocking continued once again
“Daddy? Are you in there??”
That’s when Katsuki turned to you!
“What the hell?! I thought you made sure she was fuckin’ asleep?!” Your husband whisper shouted (hope that makes sense)
“Of course I fuckin’ did! Did you lock the door right? It’s a double lock door, did you hear two clicks when you locked it???”
“…”
“REALLY KATSUKI??”
“We just moved into this house! I can’t remember all these damn locks!”
“We’ll you better get to remembering if you’re always trying to fu-“
“Daddy?? I need help- it’s an emergency!”
Katsuki just kinda sat there wide eyed, like a deer in headlights. You love your husband but sometimes… sometimes he would just have his moments…
“Goddamnit Katsuki! Can’t do shit without- fuckin dumbas- JUST ANSWER HER-“
“Y-YES- yes? What do you need??” He held, trying not to sound as awkward as he was..
“I threw up!”
.
.
.
You both froze-
“I- W-WHAT?? What do you mean you threw up???”
“I don’t know, I just got sick! Can I come in?-“
You and Katsuki started to panic as you both heard your daughter trying to turn the knob
“N-NO No! Just..uh..gimmie a second! I’ll come in a minute! Just go back to your room..!”
There was silence before you heard deer patting away from the door, at which you both exhaled.
That’s when you started chuckling a bit.
“It’s not fucking funny…” Katsuki grumbled.
You continued to giggled before hopping off your husband, detaching from the place where you once were connected, to turn off the shower.
“It kinda is though, that’s just what your horny ass gets.” You teased, grabbing your towel off the hook to dry off before you felt a smack on your ass again.
You turned around to scold him but you were only faced with a smug grin.
“This might be funny to you right now- but just wait, we’ll make it up in the morning..”
You blushed before slightly smirking yourself
“I’ll be looking forward to it,”
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detailed aot boy hc’s
cursing , fluff , real life chronicles , proof read later .
connie would most definitely be one of those boyfriends that when you would be like “bae, you wanna watch baddies east wit me?” he’ll be like “hell naw girl.” next minute you be watching it, his ass know everything, everybody. “rollie big ass pissin me off bruh.”
ony makes the jersey club remixes.
but eren and connie get tf down and make most of the jersey club dances.
armins obsessed with gypsy rose. don’t even ask.
connie and ony used to get tore tf up by them switches from outside. they moms have each other permission to whoop them. that’s how bad they was.
eren was a clumsy ass kid. he got scars from when he was a toddler.
armin got into so many secret bathroom fights that nobody knows about.
connie is not friendly fr. he friendly to people he know but he really mean asf to people he don’t know. and that goes for girls too. (only if they try to act all hard and shit.)
jeans teeth are highly sensitive to cold things. he lowkey hates cold water and can only eat ice cream really carefully.
connie used to have a head full of hair when he was little but his mom got tired of doing it was cut it off.
eren was (and lowkey still is) tender headed asf.
ony wasn’t able to watch dennis the menace, rarely able to watch home alone, or problem child because every time he did, he’d try to copy what they did.
armin rage quits a lot. like… a lot. so he always has a new set up or console every month.
jean bites his tongue every day on accident.
y’all know them knew scars them bad kids be having? yeah, connie got bout three of em.
armin cant keep a girlfriend 💀 the only girlfriend he could keep was you.
jean used to be scared of the cat in the hat live action.
eren greened out a LOT in highschool. nigga was a whole marijuana plant his self. he just calmed down after he graduated.
ony got chased by so many damn dogs when he was younger.
connie tried to fight the principal one time because he tried to suspend him because someone lied like connie got in a bathroom fight.
armin got the attitude of a divorced wife. when i tell you he gets mad so damn quick when people that ain’t his friends try to fuck wit him.
connie get smoked every time he eat freedos around the group because they his favorite chips and nobody knows why he like em.
eren got his door took off the frame one time.
jean tried to sneak out his parents window because they permanently locked his. he broke his arm that same night.
armin loves playing in your hair. like he really loves it.
ony got caught skipping school one day when he was in elementary 💀 that ass whoopin was one he’ll never forget.
eren talks so sweet to you but talks mean irl.
armin hates other girls for real, other than sasha and mikasa, and you of course.
connie dyed his happy trail grey.
y’all know them “play fights” boys be having and then they start hitting hard asf and then be breathing heavy asf when they done acting like nothing happened? connie and ony got into one of them in highschool. also armin and eren, and armin and connie.
eren used to have a bald spot from trying to cut his own hair with a razor.
last but not least, jean used to have that sad simpson pfp in middle school. 😭
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Angel on fire
Warnings!: Angst(?), love triangle!, sorry for any grammar or spelling errors! (part 2)
Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!
Author note!: WOWZA HELLO I DIDNT THINK PEOPLE WOULD LIKE THE 1ST ONE SO MUCH?! TYSM FOR TGE SUPPORT I HOPE YOU ENJOY!
Summary!: “you are as beautiful as the moon my dear.” He said with the sweeting smile you adored. “And your as deadly as the sun I fear, my love” you answered oh so bitter-fully.
★三★三★ミ★ミ★三★三★三★ミ★三★ミ★ミ
“Cause those are my words, not yours
As far as I'm concerned, it could've been a lot worse
I wasn't trying to avoid the confrontation
She isn't crying, she's just making conversation”
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“Look.. Adam-“ you said desperately before being cut off “no fucking way!” He chuckled “your actually side-ing with those shit bags?!” He said looking at you. You only glared at him, before huffing softly “watch your language…” You said with a with a small frown. Making his eyebrows crunch together as he closed his eyes with a huff. “For fuck sake do you know what those.. scums even did to end up there!” He said angrily. You steady your breath, with him you had too, you knew how he was but you just had too keep poking at him. Or get something other then a no, If you did you were sure to lose your mind.
“Adam, Just listen!, I think this could benefit heaven as well! More extra time means more time to do what you want. Wouldn’t you like that?” You tried reasoning as you cupped his hands in yours only for him to push it away. “Don’t test me Y/n, this is my job.” He spat out, making you wince. “Why are you pushing on this so hard anyways!, you have all you could want here. You barely have to lift a finger why are you so concerned for them?” He said crossing his arms. “They were humans once Adam, just like you, just like me. We’re no different, they just messed up once and we’re sent to an eternal furnace with no escape!” You said holding your hands to your chest. “Please! I’m nothing like them, I was the first fucking human soul in heaven, no one compares to me.” He laughed out. “So what does that mean about me?” You said with furrowed brows. He sighed heavily before speaking “Angel, listen to your self, your the only other person I really give a shit about. Well other then lute I guess” he shrugged as he rested his arm on the arm rest and laid his head in his palm boredly. “Look don’t worry your little gorgeous self about a thing. This ain’t your field!” He laughed.
You had patience, and you had tolerance. But his disrespect set you off. But you knew in your head that fighting someone like himself wouldn’t end well. You already had more leeway then most due to your, well close relationship with Adam. But you had to keep trying, after all angels don’t break promises.
With a heavy sigh you bowed before excusing your self. Which he quickly called out to you in confusion. But you only kept walking to your room, you were a patient one, but dealing with him proves to be a handful. You needed to think of a way to at least push it back one more month.
Just one more month
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“What’s good cherry pimp” Angel dust asked as he threw himself on the couch sluggishly. “All day you’ve been hummin’ and tappin’ what’s on your mind?” He asked as he quirked an eyebrow up as he put his gaze on Alastor. Alastor smile only grew, his mind filled with your intoxicating self. To him you very much everything, from the first day he was damned, till now all his mind was filled was you. But now more then ever, seeing you after all these decades was a shot of electricity to his very dead heart. You hadn’t change a bit since the last time he laid eyes on you. You were still angelic as ever.
Again he was swept up in his mind but quickly flicked back to reality, swaying softly as he hummed. “Oh nothing, my dear friend, old acquaintances I have recently seen after some time!” He said in his usual radio voice. “Yea I’m surprised anyone would be friends with you. Not to be rude or nothin’ but your fuckin’ creepy pal” angel said as he laughed  as he waved his hands. Alastor only smirked in amusement as he took his leave. 
He should have known someone of the likes of you would end up where most wouldn’t. He wasn’t an ounce surprised. But he wanted you back, and he was going to take what he wanted. He didn’t frankly care if you’d belong to the sky,
You were his angel first. And he’d rid those little wings of yours if it meant you were to never fly Away from him.
Not this time, not again
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You tiredly tapped your finger over the dinner table. Mind still racing with ideas, it was a cycle, coming up with something, but ultimately crossing it off the thinking board. Adam paid no mind for awhile as he chatted Away with Lute. Which was eyeing you suspiciously. And once Adam went back to his meal she quickly cleared her throat as she straighten her stance next to Adam “Miss Y/n, you haven’t touched your food.” She stated bluntly. Which made you snap out of thought as you turned you attention to her “I’m afraid I don’t have an appetite today” you said softly pushing the plate stacked with food away form you.
“Are you really still hung up on that stupid shit little miss princess of hell proposed?” He scoffed. Causing you to huff, “I’ll be taking my leave.” You said plainly but as nicely as you could as you backed you seat from the table and stood up causing him to grunt. “Look angel, if I think about pushing the damn extermination back would you drop this?” He said making you quickly turn to him with a smile and nod. “There’s that smile, now sit down and eat I’m tired of thinking of all of this” he said as you agreed taking a seat.
Lute was appalled at how… how quick it was was all agreed. How could he just push it back so easily? Even if it was just him “thinking” about it. And for no reason other then you?, all though Adam was to In-grossed in his own things to question such things. She did not and quickly grew suspicious, you out of all people should be less worried. You have everything in a silver platter yet you still seem to have such a worry in matters that weren’t concerning you in the first place.
You could feel her eyes staring you down. But her suspicions were very much valid even if unfortunate to your case. You’d have to be more careful, if she caught on, she’d be quick to make Adam question aswell.
You cursed yourself slightly but still happy non the less. Even if you got Adam to consider the possibility of pushing the date back was still a progress!.
You were sure to tell Charlie soon, although you’d have to wait till lutes suspicions and stares would die down so you could slip away.
Your patience were never ending, but oh how much you longed for the man you’ve last seen years ago.
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TYSM FOR READING AH I LOVED WRITING THIS AGAIN TYSM FOR THE LOVE ON NY LAST POST, ILL BE SURE TO WORK ON SOEM REQUEST BUT PLEASE BE ASSURED PART 3 WILL BE POSTED AFTER I DO SOME REQUEST. ٩(ᐛ)و
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BEEP !
ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. ddlg, pacifier, cockwarming, p in v, fluffy smut, implied age gap, icky ddlg stuff .. like yk
note. we r trying this again.. tags didn’t work last time bc tumblr hates me :( commission 4 the loveliest sweetest ever @miss-oranje-disco-dancer :3 !!! THANK U SM FOR THE COMM love u with all my heart hope u enjoy this and that there are no mistakes… if u would like to commission or tip me the info is in my pinned :3
Leon hears you before he sees you. There is one sound that grates on him and another that makes his dick as hard as it can get. At least, his brain is telling him he should be hard, and he knows he should be, but his dick is crazy stubborn. Stubborn is his way of describing it, his doctor calls it an erectile dysfunction. Not true. His dick functions when it wants to function, okay?
Taking Viagra is optional these days, shit don’t work for him no more. He takes it for fun, reminiscing on the good ol’ days when his dick got hard from the way the wind blew. It doesn’t work so it’s redundant and Leon has started to think he just likes popping pills. Makes him feel twenty-seven and hot. He’s Viagra-resistant. Like Super Gonorrhoea is to antibiotics.
The squeak of your teeth against the rubbery nub of your pacifier is a delight. All the blood in his brain rushes south like a crew scrambling to raise the masts on a ship, it has nowhere to go though, no dick to raise. You've unlocked a new level of excitement within Leon, instead of boners he gets blood clots. How cute. Really, that’s so fun, ain’t it?
The beep! of that goddamn plastic scanner, however, is not welcome in this house. Especially not in his home office turned place of refuge. Leon swears to God he’s developed misophonia. As your daddy, that kind of behaviour is unacceptable, he shouldn't be swearing at all, but this is Leon speaking, not daddy. Daddy is a saint, Leon is pissed off. He only wanted to do something nice for his baby. Nothing ever works out in his favour, he must’ve been born under an unlucky star, or walked under a lot of ladders, crossed one too many black cats.
That one good deed backfired, and now he would rather— Oh, shit.
“Uh-oh,” you mumble, the start of a cheeky grin lining your face. The pacifier muffles your words, it’s plain pink and heart-shaped like your ass. ‘Cause you’re a tasteful little thing. No excessive prints, no lettering that reads Daddy's Girl ♥︎ which Leon had perversely hoped for you to choose.
Uh-oh indeed. He has filled out an entire (probably) super important form in a pink gel pen. Not just any pink gel pen, a strawberry-scented, glittery pink gel pen.
“What did daddy say about this, baby?” Leon asks, and he’s trying to be serious, but god are you cute, and since when has he cared about work? Hunnigan will give him an earful, he wishes for a mouthful, that he’ll ignore because Leon is so kind. He cares so much about saving the world and whatnot.
(Paperwork doesn’t save the world anyway, he saves it periodically, she should cut him some slack.)
“You can’t come into daddy’s office when he’s not home.” That’s a rule. Written on a Miffy notepad in, you guessed it, pink glitter gel pen. A combined effort to revamp the Ten Commandments. Rule number five - Thou shalt not enter Daddy’s place of labour. God, he should do stand-up.
You shrug, pointing at your pacifier in an act of defiance. The scanner remains gripped tightly in your hand, and he can tell you’re itching to make it beep! once more.
Leon hooks his finger in the curved handle of your pacifier, there’s resistance, you hold onto it, clamped down on the nub— He tickles your tummy and out it pops.
“Not fair!” You wipe the spit from your chin on your sleeve. A pout forming at the injustice of it all.
“You can’t come into daddy’s office when he’s not home,” he repeats, “I think you should apologise to Daddy.”
Slowly, you turn around to bare your ass to him, the panties you’re wearing have an oversized bow sewn to the back of them. The fabric is slightly wrinkled from where you’ve been sitting and playing, he smooths it out.
Leon’s never seen these before, they look expensive, silk not cotton. He reminds himself to check his bank account when you leave. He’ll forget until he sees you wearing an even nicer pair later on in the week. The cycle repeats. You are living one lavish life off a civil servant’s salary.
“You’re too big for spankings, aren’t you, big girl?” Leon’s hands are gentle on your hips, he turns you back around. “Big girls say sorry.”
Petulance comes and goes. You’re a good girl at heart, bottom lip quivering when you lurch forward to sit in his lap. “Sorry, Daddy,” you sniffle.
“Aw, baby,” he coos. “It’s okay, daddy isn’t—“
Beep!
You scanned his dick. Good one. Sneaky little thing. He oughta go back on his words and spank you raw.
“You think you’re funny, huh, little lady?” Leon huffs out a laugh, and you nod while giggling. So proud of yourself. “Alright, get outta here.” He stands you up, but you crawl under his desk like a pet. The cutest little bedbug in all of history. Leon would never call pest control on you. Pinky swear.
The scanner sits by his feet, and you rest your head on his thigh, watching him work idly. Then you grow bored, naughty hands making their way up his legs. In one swift motion, you tug the front of his sweats down, his flaccid cock drops onto his thigh. Limp and sad. It’s ugly like this, Leon is more than a little ashamed. So… So not dick-like. Innocuous. Harmless.
(Not that his dick was causing any harm before, maybe to your cervix, but never on purpose. Only ‘cause you asked him to fuck you like that. His little lady wants it rough.)
To put it simply, shit looks like a fucking worm. You bat at his cock like a kitten, tongue sticking out to lick over the half-hidden tip.
“Okay,” Leon says. This is happening.
“Mmph…” You engulf the tip in your warm mouth, suckling like you do your pacifier, there’s the slightest scrape of teeth, Leon doesn’t mind.
“That sending you to sleep, cutie?” Leon pats your head as you blink up at him sleepily. He wants to take you to work with him. Let you set up your toys beneath his desk, hand you a juice box, a fruit snack, his cock at your will. Put it in your mouth, jerk him off, sit on it. Yeah. Sounds like a dream. That should be his treat for all the world-saving he does. No bonus, just a Bring Your Girlfriend to Work Day. Bring Your Girlfriend to Work and Engage in Public Sex With Her Everyday. That’s more like it.
Who else is going to warm his cock when it’s feeling all alone? Hunnigan most certainly won’t. And he might’ve wanted that before, but Leon S. Kennedy has been domesticated, and the only mouth he wants on his dick is yours. You do a damn good job at it. Treat his dick so well, that soft fuck don’t deserve it.
You pull off of his cock with a slurp. The drool pooling in your mouth dribbles down your chin, you use his sweats as a napkin, rubbing your face into the fabric to clean yourself up. Your mess is his mess. He finds it cute.
“Baby’s all done?” Leon’s thumb traces the shape of your lip, your Cupid’s bow, your puffy bottom lip. Always juts out ‘cause you’re always pouting about one thing or the other. Leaning into his palm, you shake your head, shifting from your knees to your butt. Cross-legged on the ground you push the gas cylinder on his spinny chair. There is the deflated sound of his chair sinking and you hum in satisfaction, level with his cock.
“Careful, lift your little fingers,” he warns when you grab the underside of his seat to try and wheel him closer. You do as he says, anything to get his cock in your mouth. Leon wheels forward, and you situate yourself between his thighs once more, lips wrapping around his dick. You take inch by inch, closing your eyes once you get to the midway point, then you swallow around his cock— Fuck, that got him twitching. Your eyes open, and you giggle, the vibration goes straight to his core. His cock grows thicker and heavier by the second, tip fat and leaky as it drip-drops directly down your throat.
“Look at you go,” Leon chuckles. “You did that all on your own, baby.” No Viagra needed when he has you.
You smooch the head, smearing his pre over your lips like a coat of gloss, then you trail kisses along the shaft as you do down his midriff.
“Always tryin’ that, it’s not gonna work.” He clicks his tongue, the sound of your struggle is cute, you choke on spit while trying to fit Leon’s balls in your mouth. It’s real fucking cute. No other girl has ever loved on his balls like you do. He appreciates it. You’re a proper whore, Leon says that with love.
“‘S gonna, Daddy,” you insist in your whiniest voice.
“Alright, alright, it’s gonna work.”
It does not work. Daddy’s always right, you should know that, sweetheart.
You gaze up at him, a string of spit connecting your lips to his spit-coated balls. Whole lotta spit. You’re lucky he likes it messy. You settle for sucking on the rounded bottom of them, tongue following the seam that runs up the middle.
“You like it down there so much, cutie,” he says, fondness manifesting in his dick finally managing to stand tall and proud like an American.
“Mwah.” You place one more sloppy kiss on the underside of his cock, right on a vein that comes to the surface. His dick casts a shadow on your face. Real good view from up here. Makes his shit look huge.
Leon gets stupid when he’s horny. His brain activity is low already, when he’s turned on his brain activity is nonexistent. When he sits you on his desk, there is no concern for the paperwork that gets crumpled under your butt. Paperwork that’s been passed on to him by the US government, by the damn President. Paperwork that has been subjected to abuse by not only a gel pen, but now by your cute ass, and your drippy cunt. Not his girl’s fault she has such a sloppy pussy. Forgive her, Mr. President. Not Leon’s fault he gets her so wet. Cut down my workload, Mr. President.
“Oh no, my baby.” Leon stands between your spread thighs, frowning as he thumbs the wet patch staining the crotch of your panties. “Got ‘em all messy, sweetheart, what're we gonna do with you?”
“Oh no, daddy,” you coo at him, a dopey smile on your face.
“Cheeky.” Leon kisses your forehead, presses his thumb into the centre of the wet patch, the fabric dips and sinks into your spongy hole. “She’s so greedy.” He takes your panties off, not without turning them inside out to suck on the wet patch. If you’re embarrassed about it, you don’t complain. “I think daddy needs to give you a kiss down here, baby.”
“Lotsa kisses.” You nod in agreement.
“Yeah? Want daddy to kiss your princess parts?” Shit, that is one fucked up phrase. Always messes him up. Knocks the air out of his lungs. It’s just true though. A hard fact. You do have the prettiest princess cunt Leon has ever seen. It just sounds so dirty. But you preen when he says it, and your clit twitches, and your pussy drools. On that very important paperwork. “That’s what you need, isn’t it? Need your daddy to kiss these sweet princess parts.”
Leon’s first priority is your clit. Poor thing is all swollen. His pointer finger drags through the middle of your cunt, parts your folds and circles your bud. You’re trembling in anticipation, and that single finger is almost too much.
“‘S not a kiss, daddy,” you tell him, brows knit together.
He flicks your clit and your hips jolt. The IKEA desk holds up well. Leon deserves to be a little mean, you’ve put him through so much. That stupid scanner makes him trigger-happy. “Okay, my bad, Miss Know-it-all.”
When he gets down to business, you pet his head as a reward, and Leon takes it. He latches onto your clit, lips smacking noisily. Your pussy wets his scruffy face, Leon would like to wear your scent to work in the morning. With each broad lick to your cunt, there’s another gush of slick. And he groans into your pussy ‘cause fuck he could live between your thighs— God, he wonders if this is a fix for barely functioning alcoholics. Pussy. If he eats enough - which Leon does, he’s generous when it comes to head - he might sober up.
His tongue fucks into your hole, his nose bumping your clit as he moves his head from side to side. Must look like he’s motorboating your pussy. Not far off from that. “Oh, that’s right.” You grind your hips into him. “Mmm-Mmm-Mmm-“ Leon moans with each push of his tongue, sounds kinda ridiculous. “That’s good, fuck daddy’s mouth, sweetheart—“
“Stop…” Your breath is caught in your throat. “Stop talkin’ daddy!” You sob, fingers tangled in his hair, using it to force him deeper and deeper, hips moving in tandem.
Leon smiles into you, and you don’t let go of his hair until you’re reduced to tears, making an even bigger mess on his desk as your body shakes. It hit you hard. Poor baby. Blubbering and all sorts. When you free him, Leon moves to kiss you, rubs his pussy-wet stubble all over your face, swallows your complaints.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Leon leaves wet kisses on your neck. “Daddy’s got you, hm? Daddy’s right here.” You’re still trembling, grabbing at his shoulders when he rolls his hips forward, the leaky head of his cock meeting your clit in a disgusting wet kiss.
You shudder, toes curling in your pink socks. Leon soothes you, stroking your back as he eases into your princess cunt. “Easy, baby, be a good girl for me.”
Your cunt sucks him in, doesn’t take long for him to be buried inside of you. He rolls his hips forward, slow and steady. You gasp, throwing your head back and knocking a pot of pens onto the floor when your hands move to grip the edge of his desk.
Like this, with your back arched and your hips raised, cunt swallowing him whole, you’re the prettiest. When you’re slutting yourself out on his dick. Sorry. Leon’s only a man. This is how he thinks, how he’s wired to be, he can’t help it. You’re so fucking hot it drives him nuts.
The more you arch, the better it feels, he gives lazy thrusts that somehow manage to hit just right ‘cause you keen and fuck yourself on him, letting out hiccuped sobs of Daddy.
Daddy, daddy, daddy.
It’s all you can say. Fuck.
“I love you, baby,” Leon says. “I love you, daddy loves you.”
Oh, and you cum so hard he thinks you’re about to blackout. You don’t. But you do squirt. Pushing his cock out with the force of your high, Leon forces his dick further into you— The rush of liquid hits his skin in bursts, and you’re squeezing him tight, hole clenching like crazy in second-long intervals.
“Daddy… I love you.” Your words are slurred, but you never miss the opportunity to tell him how much you love him. “Love you more.”
“Not… Not possible.” Leon almost whines when he cums. Almost. You scratch behind his ears, it’s like you’re saying There you go, good daddy! Like he’s a dog. Leon is a dog, not a real dog, but a human dog. The pervert kind of dog.
He fills you up like a creampuff, and when his cock slips out, dribbles of his seed dripping from the tip, Leon’s quick to use his thumbs to keep your pussy spread.
“Push it out, baby.” He watches your hole twitch, milky cum spilling out as you exert your pussy. “Good girl, you’re such a good girl.” Leon kisses you hard, cradles the back of your head. “Daddy’s good girl.”
Leon helps you stand, his fingertips mould to the flesh of your ass when he gives it a squeeze. You’re a tender little darling, wrapping your arms around his neck to hug him. When his chin slots over your shoulder, and your scent is sweet on his nose, Leon gapes at the sight of his soggy paperwork. Unfortunately, Leon won’t even be fired for insolence, he’ll just have to face Hunnigan. Something he can’t do while sober. Could do it while pussy drunk though. Never thought about that.
“I think,” Leon starts, hoists you back onto the desk so he can pick you up, “it’s bath time.” You’re nodding off in his arms, barely able to cling onto him. He manages to get you to the bathroom, sitting you down on the counter. “Or is it naptime?”
“Naptime,” you mumble, wincing at the icy counter on your warmed skin.
“Whatever you say, baby.” Leon cleans you up, diligent in his role as Daddy. Would never let his sweetheart go to bed like that. “There we go, fresh as a daisy,” he claims post-towel wipe down.
“Sticky.” You always have a complaint for him. But it’s okay, he loves you. You’re his spoiled little girl.
“Okay, so then is it bath time?” He raises a brow and you shake your head.
“No! Naptime, daddy!” You loop your arms around his neck. “Up.”
“You’re so bossy, you know that?” Leon says while smiling. “Big fuckin’ baby, what am I gonna do with you?”
“Bad words,” you scold, tapping your finger on his lips.
“Daddy can say bad words.” He takes you to bed, fluffs up the pillows for you like he's never done for anyone else. “But you’re a little baby, you can’t say bad words.”
And for once, you’re so sleepy you have nothing bratty to say in return. “Okay, daddy, sleep now,” you say, rolling onto your side to hide your face in his chest.
“Okay, baby,” he laughs quietly, holding you close. “Sleeping now.”
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HOBIE BROWN | SPIDER-PUNK (atsv)
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“Brand New Metal” (Hobie Brown & Fem!Reader)
| Hobie helps you pierce your nose.
| SFW, piercing description, needles
| Featuring almost the entirety of my own piercing experience. (Pic source: Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023) movie)
You pull away for what feels like the hundredth time in five minutes and Hobie’s hand moves outta the way even faster, barely a blur of movement before it’s back within his bubble of space.
“C’mon, Mama, I can’t do this if you keep jumpin’ away from me.”
You shift in place where your butt is planted beside the hard water stained sink. Shoulders dropping you rub your hands down your face.
“I know that,” you grumble.
Problem was, knowing barely qualified as a quarter of the issue, and whoever said knowing was half the battle clearly hadn’t been staring down the point of the thickest needle you’d ever seen in person.
You wave your hand to the metal rod with a grimace. “But look at the size of that thing, Hobes. That’s gotta be overkill.”
Hobie’s accent seems to get thicker as he hits you with a deadpan tone, full brows shading his eyes.
“This’s a twenty gauge needle. I’ve seen you ’old your guts inside you and still make time to bash in some fascists, this’s nothin’.”
In response you flip him off but Hobie - perfectly unfazed - only starts twirling the needle around two latex glad fingers.
His own piercings - of which there were plenty - glint off of the dim yellow lighting of his bathroom like a taunt. Or at least it feels like that to you.
“Look, I already told you piercings ain’t some crucial part of the scene, Mama. You don’t have ta do any of this. It’s all just boxes and labels, the lot of it,” Hobie points the blunt side of the needle at you. “And you know I hate labels.”
“Yeah, Hobes, the whole of Camden knows. Besides, I want it cause I think it looks nice not cause of capitalism’s agenda to make us buy shit instead of looking at whatever human right of the day they’re doing away with,” you shrug and Hobie’s mouth twists to the side for a second before he’s shrugging too.
“Great. Point’s been made then. Pick a struggle.”
“Fuck your struggle,” you frown. “It’ll hurt.”
“Hn,” he scoffs and shakes his head. He’s giving you this narrow look like he’d let you keep this back and forth up for the rest of the day without any complaints though. “Fake ones exist for a reason.”
“Fake ones won’t give me the satisfaction of a real piercing though.”
“The lie that we need to feel pain in order to be worthy of livin’ is also capitalistic propaganda, Luv.”
Now it’s your turn to give him a look; face dropping and one brow rising.
Hobie chuckles.
“Fine.” He grins, sharp. “We both know I know exactly what it is you’re sayin’. I just can’t tell if being an accomplice to yer masochism is fair to me.”
“You wouldn’t deny a woman her creative outlet, would you?”
“S’pose not,” Hobie agrees, taking another alcohol swab and disinfecting the needle again for extra measure.
He eyes you up and down and you smile, fluttering your lashes at him and kicking your heels into his cabinet doors. You needed Hobie to be the one to do this. For one, because you were not going to be able to do this yourself, and for two, because he was really the only person you trusted to puncture a literal hole in your body.
You take a deep breath, now if only you could chill the hell out.
Hobie shakes his head, wicks flopping around and knocking into each other languidly.
“Yer one ‘elluva reluctant participant to this for someone agreein’ they’re a masochist,” he nods to the needle while brandishing it like a knife. He knows you're full of shit, but he’s not about to make your decision for you. “You gotta stop flinching every time light just glints off the needle if you really want this.”
You lock eyes with him, sitting up to your full height and trying not to back away from the metal rod. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the adrenaline rush to kick in.”
“Pretty sure that happens after the pain, yeh?
A huff and your fingers curl over the edge of the counter and squeeze.
“Just…get it over with, Hobie.” You take a deep breath. “Please?”
“Alright alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Hobie eases a hand around your jaw and raises the needle. “You know I’ve got you. Now keep still.”
Another deep breath from you and Hobie meets your eye for a second time.
“On three,” he grunts. With your head in his grasp you can’t physically nod so you use your eyes to convey your agreement.
Hobie takes a breath to start the countdown and you inhale with him. You’ve gotten your ears pierced before, you could do this. It was fine. Plus you’ll have a few seconds to prep yourself before he gets to number three. You got this. You both exhale.
“Three,” he states.
Without a second to spare the needle pierces through the squishy cartilage of your nose and your breath catches in your throat. Instantly tears well in your eyes and your face heats up something fierce - like somebody’s holding a blow dryer on the highest setting up to it with zero mercy. Your joints pop, grasp on the counter growing tighter in your attempt to keep yourself from jerking out of Hobie’s hold. The sheer need to not garner an actual injury from the metal is almost solely what keeps you in place.
This wasn’t like an ear piercing at fucking all. Fuck this septum piercing and fuck Hobie too. What the fuck?
“Ow! You motherfucker!”
NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! I only wrote his accent clearly some of the time; you’ll have to forgive me. I was confusing my damn self, okay? I did my best.
Also what I said about how adrenaline works isn’t really correct so don’t take that as gospel.
Edit: Had this labeled gn!reader on accident at first y’all, that’s my bad. Sorry for any confusion.
btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.
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Roommate or boss?
Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.
Warnings: a lot of yapping. Male masturbation. A bit of violence from Katsuki’s part when a guy tries getting in your pants.
Word count: this part is 2.4k, added to the others (part 1, part 2, part 3) it’s 8.9k.
Next part: part 5
"It's too hot" you mewl while lying on your couch. “Step back, it’s my turn to be in front of the fan” you add, getting up and walking towards Katsuki.
“Fuck no, it’s been 3 minutes since you had a go at it. Go back to the hell hole you came from, pest” your roommate answers while throwing daggers at you.
You poke your finger in his exposed bicep. He doesn’t budge. Damn, this man is hard as a rock.
“Come onnnnn! This is the time when you should be a gentleman and let me cool down my beautiful face. Do you really want to be such a brute, Mr. Bakugou?” you bat your eyelashes seductively, trying to convince him.
Bakugou stares at you like your face is green and you’re a slimy frog that just came out of a pile of mud.
“I don’t fucking care. You’re a big girl and I ain’t no prince charming. Step the fuck back or I’m throwing you on that damn sofa. Wait your shitty turn” he says, flicking your forehead.
You whine some more, whisper “bitch” (it gets you another flick) and then turn back to lay on the floor. It’s colder than the couch, at least.
It’s summer, there’s 41°C outside, and your AC broke the other day. It’s so hot that you take out the ice from the freezer and it melts in 4 minutes (max). You happened to have one old crusty fan, that you and Bakugou take turns using. You have been surviving on iced coffee and iced lemonades. You feel like you’re slowly dying.
“You know, this is the only time I really wish my boss would call me in early. He might be a ghost, but he sure uses money for the AC” you blabber while staring at the ceiling, contemplating booking a trip to Alaska.
“What do you mean a ghost?” the blond asks. He’s been much more talkative in the last few months, maybe because seeing you being so domestic was doing something to him. In the last few days he really wants to be your friend, but not because he’s suddenly nice: he thinks he could bribe you to gift him the fan if he’s kinder and breaks your defenses. He’s even planning on asking you to go to a cafe nearby and offer you one of those sweet fuzzy iced drinks you like so much. He’s scheming.
“A ghost because I’ve never seen his face. Can you believe that? My colleague says he’s an asshole though, so maybe that’s for the better” you answer. You get on your elbows to see him better, then squint and frown, “I feel like you could be my boss, you know. Seeing as you’re an asshole too, making me die here on the floor like a common drug addict”.
Yeah, screw the fan. He was asking you out to kill you.
“I hope he fires you”.
“Fuck you”.
“Likewise”.
You throw yourself back on the floor. The movement makes your boobs giggle, and he catches himself staring at your white tank top. You didn’t wear a bra since it’s indeed still your house and it’s indeed still hot as hell.
Things have been going so much better between you two. You now bicker like you’re siblings, but you do also take walks together sometimes, mainly to get groceries, and talk about stuff. You even convinced him to watch Keeping up with the Kardashians with you, and even if he doesn’t want to admit it, he likes the drama more than you.
At work you have a new manager and she’s super nice. Her name is Mina, and you found out that she and Kirishima are engaged, even if they’re 22 like you. She’s a great worker, and you’ve gone out for drinks a couple of times with her and Momo. She’s been at the cafe for 2 months, but you feel so much better already. She throws you weird looks sometimes, like she knows something you don’t, but you pay it no mind.
The timer on your phone rings, and you jump up before throwing your whole body on Katsuki’s. He’s distracted and you get him off guard, managing to move him away. He notices your tits touching his arm.
“Hah! My turn!” you say triumphantly, positioning yourself in front of the fan. The cold air makes your nipples harden. He seems to not be able to look away.
“Awh, Katsuki, cat got your tongue? Don’t worry, baby, the floor is not that bad” you snicker.
He snaps out of his trance and looks at your smirk. Baby? Did you just call him baby?
Fuck, what is he doing? The heat is getting to him. He hastily turns around and starts walking.
“Fuck off, I’m getting in the shower. You can have your fucking fan until I get out” he grunts while almost running away. He needs to have a cold shower.
“We’ll see!” you smile devilishly at him, not having noticed how he’s furiously blushing while slamming the bathroom door.
Katsuki puts his back on the door and slides to the floor. He rubs his face before staring at the obvious tent his semi is causing in his shorts.
Have you always been so hot?
He gets out of his clothes and jumps in the shower, hoping this feeling will go away once the scorching temperature of his skin gets back to normal. But after a few minutes the icy water does nothing to quell his desire, his fully standing cock a statement to that.
He curses under his breath, then wraps one of his hands on his shaft. He feels so dirty doing this, and the fact you’re one door away makes him feel even more embarrassed.
“Let’s get this fucking over with, fuck” he says to himself, pumping his member slowly.
He imagines the way your hand would feel instead of his, or your big eyes staring up at him like you did before, just that in this case you were forcing yourself not to cry while choking on his cock. His hand would be in your hair instead of on his dick, pushing your mouth snugly against his pubes. Your mouth would be hotter than the sun outside and he'd give you a reason to sweat. If you pleaded hard enough he'd fuck you too. He’d really throw you on the sofa, ripping your damn white top and sucking on your nipples. Fuck, what if you pierced them? Your tits would look so good covered in his-
He cums, grunting. "Fuck, this is the most embarrassing shit I've ever had to do to cum" he adds, whispering to himself.
He makes sure to scrub the shower wall clean before putting on the pair of grey short sweatpants he was wearing before. He decides on not to put his black compression tee on, since it’s drenched in sweat.
He exits the bathroom and finds you lying on the couch with the fan blowing directly on your face. Your eyes are closed, and the peaceful expression you're wearing makes his dick throb again.
"Oi, wanna go out? We're short on ice" he finds himself saying.
You open one eye, but when you realize he's half naked you hastily close it and throw him the pillow you were resting your head on.
"When has this become a whore house?" you scream.
He rolls his eyes. "You're such a prude. It's not like you've never seen a man naked" he scoffs, while throwing the pillow back at you.
You open your eyes again and glare at him. You know you must be as red as a tomato.
He looks so good with his hair still dripping wet. You've known that he works out, but now that you see his torso this close and with so little covering his whole body, you find yourself feeling shy. There's a particular drop of water that cascades just in the middle of his pecs, and you follow it with your eyes until it reaches his belly button.
"Earth to y/n. I know I'm hot, but stop ogling and answer my fucking question" your roommate says smirking, snapping his fingers in front of your face.
You throw the same pillow you threw before right on his smiling face. "I'm coming if you're not gonna be naked!" you say, hastily going towards your room.
"But wouldn't you like it, baby?" he mocks the tone you've used with him just 30 minutes ago.
"Fuck you. I'll be there in 10" you respond, slamming your bedroom door, feeling hot and bothered.
It must be the summer.
You and Katsuki go to a store nearby to get ice.
“When is the landlord gonna repair the AC?” you ask, since he was the one to make the call.
“He said he’ll come next week, probably even the next one. Said he’s on vacay or some shit” he grunts from next to you.
“I can’t survive 2 weeks like this” you whine. “Oh, you know those noodles you did the other day? The spicy ones? Want to make them for dinner today?” you change the topic, looking up at him.
He spares you a glance before smirking and saying “you just said you’re dying, you sure you wanna eat spicy things?”.
“It doesn’t matter, that’s not the question” you say, pouting.
He smirks again. “Sure. Go and take the noodles, I’ll get the vegetables. Call me when you’re finished if you can’t come back here, I know you get lost like a dumbass”.
You slap his arm. “I do not! This place is just big, asshole”. Then you turn around and march straight towards… the wrong aisle. Katsuki shakes his head. You’ll find a way. You always do, somehow.
After 10 minutes you’re still not back and you still haven’t called, so he sighs and gets his phone out.
He missed your texts from 3 minutes ago.
Y/N: Help
Y/N: I feel like a guy is following me
Y/N: I’m next to some spicy sauces, I guess
Y/N: Mom come pick me up, I’m scared
He raises an eyebrow. You’re usually too prideful to text him when you don’t find the ingredients he tells you to search for, so this situation is weird. He tries to remember where the spicy sauces are, and goes for that aisle.
Meanwhile, you were right and a creepy guy was indeed following you. He’s slim, not that tall and looks like a predator. For the past couple of minutes he’s obviously been trying to get in your pants, and you don’t know how to remove yourself from the situation.
“Come on, just give me your number. You got a boyfriend? Is this why you’re being so… spicy?” he says with a low tone of voice, walking towards you and effectively blocking you from the eyes of the people who are walking down your aisle. From outside, he just seems like he’s talking to you.
“I said I’m not interested” you repeat for what feels like the 10th time. Then you decide to lie: “and yes, I do have a boyfriend. He gets crazy when he’s jealous, I wouldn’t want to anger him if I were you”. You hope you sound confident enough.
“Awh he doesn’t have to now, baby girl. It can be our dirty little secret… I love spicy little things like you” he says seductively, touching your arm and licking his lips.
You’re just about to raise your elbow high enough to break his nose when you feel a familiar voice behind you.
“Step the fuck back before I break your fucking hand” Katsuki says to the man in front of you.
You snap your gaze to his eyes, but he’s looking at the guy with a murderous intent.
The slimy guy in front of you doesn’t let go, in fact he just strengthens the hold he has on your arm and you wince. Katsuki notices this.
The guy is definitely intimidated, but still manages to say “mind your business bro, we’re together, this is my bitch-“. But before he can finish the sentence he finds himself crashing on the sauces of the aisle.
“I said step the fuck back. I don’t like to repeat myself. Don’t ever call my girlfriend your bitch again, or next time I’m breaking your damn nose“ your roommate says while putting a hand on your small back.
He then looks down at you, and while he’s looking deep into your eyes, tells you “you good, baby?”.
You nod. You feel your knees shaking, but not because of the guy who’s currently on the floor.
Which, by the way, is now scoffing and declaring “oh so this is your crazy boyfriend? Nobody likes good guys anymore, huh”. He then stands up, adding “you were never pretty enough for me, anyway”.
Katsuki looks at him and suddenly he laughs. “You’re a pathetic ass bitch if you really believe someone like you could ever be near someone like her. You’re not a good guy, you’re an awful piece of shit who only tries to get his dick wet by forcing girls to have sex with him, and you’re obviously failing at that too. Go back to your room and rub one out on some shitty porn like you always do, fucker” he spits out. “You have 5 seconds to get out of my fucking face”.
The asshole thinks he’s joking, so he doesn’t move from his spot, but Katsuki is obviously not playing. He looks super scary, and he’s towering over the pathetic boy.
Katsuki is losing his patience. “5, 4, 3…”.
The guy gets that he’s serious and flees the scene, running with his tail between his legs.
Your roommate takes a big breath before mumbling “I hate people”. You snicker, before looking up at him. “Thank you, you know” you say smiling.
Your gratefulness blinds him, or maybe it’s just that you’re that pretty.
“You’re welcome”.
He doesn’t remove his hand from your back for the rest of your walk, and it feels so natural to be so close to him that you don’t say anything.
A/N: If you want to be put in the taglist make sure your age is visible on your blog first, and then tell me so in the comments <3
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𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲 — 𝗘. 𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗿
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲!𝗘𝗿𝗲𝗻, 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗲𝘀, 𝗽𝗲𝘁 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀 (𝗺𝗮, 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀, 𝗲𝘁𝗰), 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵. 𝗜𝘁𝘀 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗮𝗺𝗲
𝗪𝗰: 𝟵𝟲𝟲
smut under the cut. minors do not interact
the love was strong— too strong and too good to be fucking true. eren was your home and you were his but a night out turned this reality upside down real fast
in your defense, it wasn’t even your fault that some other nigga walked up to you trynna sweet talk you, you wasn’t really thinking straight anyways— not after mixing liquor
“you mad fine..” “yeah? you think so?” those pretty two tones lips wrapping around that glass of yours eyeing the mf infront of you
even through the giggles and soft smiles you made for the nigga, you ain’t want him. it just felt nice to hear from a 3rd person perspective to hear how sexy you were
but Eren didn’t find it enjoyable. watching his girl fall for some other dudes tricks like that and that easily. he’d let you have your little fun or whatever, but when y’all got home it was gonna be game fucking over for you
that’s why now your legs were wrapped around his hips as eren messily kissed those full lips of yours. thrusting his cock in your wet cunt and as you moaned for him trying to convince him it wasn’t nothing
“’m sorry daddy— please.. shit—” you scratched up his chest as your pretty lips fell open locking eyes with his. they were so cloudy with anger and jealousy
“you think he was gon’ fuck you like this, ma? you though you was gon’ get off with that shit? don’t play with me, girl.”
a ring of cream settling at his base and some dripping down his balls as he pounded into your messy cunt with pants and whines of his own as he punished that pussy for your wrong-doings
“this pussy s’good mama, yeah keep them legs open f’me. lemme show you who you belong to.”
Eren spoke against those lips of yours as his nails dug into your thighs leaving marks. he was too inlove with this pussy to ever let it go, under some circumstances and standards.
“ouu daddy s’too much..” your lips gently biting into his. eren eyes never left your face, them faces is what had him so inlove. that magic he saw in them eyes of yours when you were screaming for more or, in this case, less
“nah, baby, take this dick. you a big girl now mama, you can do it. make daddy proud.”
Eren huffed as he stroked that swollen clit of yours trying to milk that orgasm out of you. your hands gripped the sheets hard as your back arched off the bed with a breath you sucked up to moan out coming to a halt, quickly.
“yeah there it is, sweet girl. cum f’me, gimmie that shit”
the roughness of his voice went straight to your pussy as you squirted. your liquids spraying his chest as he let out a soft sigh as he watched that pussy cream and squirt all for him
“keep going, girl. you makin’ me so proud. look at this pussy squirting f’me. this pussy s’good. i don’t know who you think you playin’ with.”
Eren pounded into you harder with a grin on this face was he watched those pretty brown eyes of yours roll back and that brown skin glistening in the light as you squirmed and moaned
“who you think you runnin’ from, ma? you finna gimme one more. don’t start runnin’ now. keep this pussy cummin’ f’me. you wanna act grown so bad be grown wi’me”
all you could do was choke back a complaint and some slick-mouthed comment but as soon as the annoyance rised it was quickly consumed by the pleasure from feeling his fat cock pumping out of those squeezing walls of yours
“fuck— you squeezin’ so tight. you gon’ make me cum, princess? make daddy cum. lemme fill this pretty pussy up with my babies. open up f’me..”
Eren’s hands squeezed around your waist as he piston fucked his way deeper inside you making your vision flash white and a loud moan escape your throat
you’d both get a complaint from the neighbors, but that was the least of your worries right now
Eren’s nimble fingers trailing down your your clit once more pulling and rubbing it trying to milk out another orgasm from you as his orgasm was quickly approaching
“you gon let me fill this pussy up?” “yeah.. please daddy.. ouu shit fill this pussy up. s’all yours” your toes were curling behind his head, those thighs that he loved so much started to shake as his orgasm was just a few thrusts away
“cum wi’me. c’mon mama, i can feel this pussy getting wetter, make a mess f’daddy again.”
“yes daddy.. oh my g— m’cumming! m’cumming! oh shit—”
once more your pussy was gushing for him again with a scream ripping out of your throat as he fucked his own orgasm into you, his thrusts becoming sloppy and uneven as his eyebrows knitted together and his eyes closed
those puffy lips of yours swallowing every drop of him in that pussy as he slowed his thrusts down so both of you could catch your breaths.
“yeah that’s my good girl, shiiit baby. such a good job. lemme fuck a baby into you. i think you’d be so pretty with my babies in you. ain’t nobody finna take yo pretty ass away from me.”
he panted as his thrusts picked up again as a whine came out of your throat it didn’t seem like you two were gonna stop for a while, not until he got you pregnant with his baby.
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Bad Man (joel miller x afab!fem!reader)
Words: ~1.2k
Summary: Joel was a bad man. Neither of you gave a single fuck about it. (there's nothing here but pure filth. i am not sorry nor will i apologize. it spewed out of my brain and now here you be)
Warnings: 18+ only, rough sex, unprotected p in v, ass slapping, neck grabbing, bruising mentioned, girthy age gap, slightly toxic internal thoughts/monologue
masterlist here
You’re not sure how you got into this position, got to this place.
Well… actually, that’s a lie.
You’re pretty sure of it, if you’re being honest with yourself, and it has everything to do with Joel’s big fucking mouth and his stupid, flirty personality. It has even more to do with his perfect, stupid, glorious tongue and his frustratingly fat cock.
The speckled gray hair and the crow’s feet at his eyes were just the icing on top of the cake for you, really. A well-worn man with just as worn hands, willing to use them to deliver all of the pain and pleasure you could possibly ask for. He fucks, and he fucks well. He fucks like someone who’s lived an entire life, knows exactly what he wants, and takes it. Every time.
It’s all that you can think about, all that you can manage to do as he spears his hips into you from behind, nearly knocking the wind out of your chest with every thrust.
Joel was a bad man. A very, very bad man.
And you fucking loved him for it.
Every grunt you hear from behind you spurs you on a little further, makes your core get a little bit wetter, until you feel beads of sweat start to drip from his body and onto your back. You cry out for him as the fingers of one hand dig bruisingly into your hip, and the palm of the other takes turns slapping at each of your asscheeks until you’re sure they’re a bright, stinging red with the heat you can feel radiating off of them already.
There’s nothing in your mind, nothing in your body, but Joel. Joel everywhere.
He stops his smacks, but not his thrusts, and grips you tightly at the nape of your neck, shoving your face down into the couch beneath you. He holds you there, barely enough room to get a breath in between your cheek and the cushion, but the new angle makes you absolutely see stars. You cry out for him, fingers digging into the couch as you try to find purchase anywhere you can manage.
You feel like your insides are on fire - and so are your asscheeks - everything is, really, because Joel is all over you and inside of you and everywhere and everything and it was so fucking perfect you could cum just from the thought of it all.
You were sure this was what heaven must feel like. Did you make him feel just as good? He hisses behind you and you feel another rush of slick to your core as you think about it.
This, right here, was heaven. You knew it. You didn’t need to die to get there, and hell, you surely knew Joel wouldn’t be coming with you, anyway. So this would be enough. You’d let Joel bring a little piece of heaven to you, just like this, anytime he wanted to. You’d never say no to him.
And the thing is, you were right. Joel was a bad man. A very, very bad man. And he knew it. He just didn’t care.
With Ellie leaving and Tommy off to start his own family, what else did he have left? Who cares if he started fucking the little stable girl, young and perky and pliant and willing… all for him, any night of the week?
Could you really blame him for not giving a rat’s ass about what anyone else thought?
Maria would have his head if she knew, probably chastise him for being a dirty old man, call him a pervert or a cradle robber or something even worse.
You were legal, though. At least legal to the standards of 2003… legality ain’t much of a thing, these days.
He grunts heavily above you, staring down at you like you’re some kind of magic, materialized beneath his hands. Your fucking skin is just so fucking soft… Not hard and war-torn like his. And your hands… Oh the way your soft, gentle hands make him feel when they’re wrapped around his cock. Don’t even get him started on your fucking perky, perfectly pouty lips. He might as well have a heart attack and go to heaven each time you wrap your lips around his length.
So, fuck it. He wants this. Damn near feels like, after all this time, maybe, just maybe, he even deserves it. Deserves a warm cunt to sink himself into at the end of the day, a perky set of tits to play with, a smiling face that calls out for him not in stress or frustration but in pleasure.
Yeah. He wants it. He really, really fucking wants it. And he’s gonna take it - and keep taking it - over and over again until you’ve had your fill of him or until he drops dead in the process. He’s gonna take you every way he possibly can.
With the most mental clarity he’s had since that moment in the hospital with Ellie, Joel’s hips stutter for a moment as his breath catches in his throat. It’s just a second - barely a blip - but you notice. Of course you fucking notice. You start to turn your head back to him as if to ask him about it, but he just keeps fucking you relentlessly into the couch, never giving you a moment to even breathe, let alone ask a question.
He keeps your face pressed down into the cushions beneath you, and one of his broad arms wraps around your waist, a single calloused finger rubbing softly at your swollen nub. It takes very few moments of his touch at your clit to send you spiraling into oblivion, your back arching violently away from him as he continues to pound into you, both hands resting at each hip. His fingertips dip into your hip bones as he pulls you up and down on his cock, bouncing you off of his thighs with each thrust. He doesn’t give you a moment to think, let alone come down from the high of your orgasm, until he can feel the familiar tightening in his balls, slamming into you once - twice - three more times before he’s pulling out of you just in time to splatter his hot cum all over your well-abused ass.
The pearly white beads of his cum nearly sparkle across the reddened skin of your ass cheeks and he groans in satisfaction as he catches his breath, loving the look of you painted with his seed. His.
His.
The possessive, needy demon comes out in him as he slaps his hand down against your reddened ass one more time and smears his cum all the way across your backside.
“You’re fucking mine, little girl. You understand me?”
You mewl, eyes shutting tightly as you press your ass back into the touch of his hands. He’ll be gentle with you later when you’re alone upstairs, buried under the sheets, where it’s safe and he’s sure no one’s watching. His shell will crack and you’ll get a little glimpse into his miserable broken insides, but not now. Not yet.
Now, he’s all sharp edges and teeth, rough and raw and oh-so Joel.
He slaps your ass again, smearing his cum across your back before raking his nails sharply down your spine.
You wouldn’t have it any other way.
~ ~ ~
A/N: if you liked it, PLEASE leave a comment and/or a reblog! your interactions are literally the fuel to my fire! Love you all! xoxoxo
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can we have another sex pollen fic 🫣🫣🫣
picks up after Lazaretto where you were precautionarily quarantined together and subjected to a treatment that had a sex pollen effect on Joel 🥵. Check content settings if you can't see that one.
Lazaretto: Horny reader
1k / Joel x horny!f!reader
Warnings: Horny reader pressures Joel for sex as he struggles with guilt / fear. Jacking off. unsafe P in V sex. Prev story (referenced) was noncon. Unedited.
☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️
After Joel is seized by the fog and ferally pounds you, y’all still have another 24 hours in the tent together nearly nude before they’ll let you go. It's a long time to spend with someone in these circumstances. Long enough for you to recover and need more.
He’s traumatized by the experience, overwhelmed by guilt. You reassure him it felt good, as if he didn’t already know you came on his cock, but that doesn’t make him feel any better. He's torturing himself. He’s still feeling the fog, too, even though it’s faded.
He has a hard dick, but by now he’s regained enough control to restrain himself. He’s too ashamed to even relieve himself in front of you. Too ashamed or too afraid of what he might do. You spend most of the day pretending to nap so he can periodically jack off unembarrassed. He grunts and sighs as quietly as he can. You don't want him to know you notice, but it's the hottest thing you've ever heard, and the fact that he’s trying to be quiet only makes it hotter. The squish of his skin and his stifled sounds of pleasure have you starving for his cock.
You wish he’d just fuck you again. You’ve offered. You’ve asked. You’ve borderline begged. You want it that bad. You’re stuck in a tent, horny as hell, with Joel and his hard cock. What’s more, you’re aware of what he can do with it, and every few hours you have to hear him fucking his fist instead of your needy cunt. Your ass is sore, but your pussy wants more. The hornier you get, the more you lose patience. Finally, you’ve had enough and pretend to “wake up.” When you sit up on the cot and face him, he’s cowering on the floor pressing the heel of his palm into his aching member, with his eyes swollen from tears.
“I need something,” you say. “Anything.” You slip your hand under your gown and start touching yourself.
“Can’t give it to ya, sweetheart. It ain’t right,” he says for at least the third time today.
“No, Joel. God, I’m sick of hearing that.” You don’t stop touching yourself. "What ain’t right is you not giving me a choice right now. Gimme the choice you couldn’t give me earlier.”
He doesn’t know how to respond to that.
“Get over here and lie down on the cot,” you tell him, your voice more gentle than the words. “Let me take what I need," you add.
He rubs his temples with the thumb and ring finger of one expansive hand. He shakes his head, then looks at the ceiling of the tent. A few seconds later, he hesitantly stands up with a groan like his whole body hurts. You avert your gaze from the considerable tent in his gown as he makes his way to the cot trying to hide it.
Joel lays down on the cot and says, "You don't have to do this. You really shouldn't." You feel a little bad for him, but you do have to do this. Your body needs it. In your mind, it will benefit you both. "I don't wanna hurt you, sweetheart. Get me started, I dunno if I can stop."
"Relax, Joel." You get on top of him and pull up his gown, your breath hitching at the sight of his commanding cock. You take your own gown off entirely, hoping the sight of your tits helps him get on board with this. You watch his face darken as you position yourself on top of him and both his hands come gently to your breasts.
"Fuck," he breathes as he palms your nipples with his tired eyes nearly closed. You notch the angry tip of his cock at your weeping cunt and he shudders "Ohh, God," pinching his eyes shut. His hands slide down to your hips then he opens his eyes again. As you begin to sink onto him, he pulls you down hard and lifts his hips, sheathing his stiff member in your warmth. He grunts and you sigh as you're impaled on his rock-hard length.
"Fuck, you feel good," he winces.
You lean forward and tilt yourself to press your most sensitive place against his pubic bone, softly cushioned by hair. You begin to move your hips, grinding against him and giving him space to rail in and out of you. His thick cock is hurried along by your ample slick each time he impales you. His eyes water, swollen and sensitive from his earlier tears, and his rough hands grip your ass harder. He kneads your cheeks and you wince in pain each time they spread.
Joel grunts and sighs as he buries his length in you. Your knees squeeze his broad torso as your clit begins to twitch. His face is overtaken by the inner animal again and he begins to rail you mercilessly, pulling you down harder each time he thrusts up into you. You lift up his gown and slide it up his torso, then rest your hands on his pecs for leverage. The sight of his scars and light chest hair make you weak and his firm pecs under your palms make you twitch more. You push your ass down and back as he fucks up into you.
You lower your torso against his, slipping your hands under his arms and resting them on the cot. With the added contact, you’re close to the brink. He plunges his thick cock into you for another minute, your walls gripping him each time he fills you up. You teeter on the edge of your climax, then he grunts loudly and pleasure seizes you, from your clit spreading inward, strangling his cock as you sigh. His nipples harden against your breasts and he shudders then explodes inside you with a long, low sigh.
You stay on his cock and he reaches down to the ground to pick up the blanket. He covers your bodies and you fall asleep with him inside you. Finally you both get some much-needed rest.
-
All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy
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