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iamasaddie · 8 months

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come take my pulse the pace is on a runaway train

PIMP!JOEL part 1, masterlist paring: Joel Miller x fem!afab!Reader rating: explicit word count: 6k (I told ya) summary: there's a secret you didn't know you had, and you're forced to tell it to Joel // Joel Miller is still a pimp and you still need money, that's it. .a/n: can't believe it actually fucking happened. i'm drained, see y'all sometime. an honest thanks to my lil beta/guardian angel @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog it's hard to imagine this fic happening without her, and my forever support, my ride or fucking ride @bearsbeetsbeskar . I love y'all! warnings (for the series): dub-con(ish); explicit sexual content; Reader is described as bony and malnurished (hungry, duh); sex work; fingering; both protected and unprotected PinV; 69; FMF; oral sex (for everybody); ass play; unprotected anal sex; sex toys; dirty talking; might be something else who knows; NO USE OF Y/N warnings (for the chapter): female masturbation, inexperienced reader, fingering, voyerism (kind of); praise kink; mild dirty talk ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴅɪᴄᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴇ. ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ, ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

It was strange waking up in a warm, nice-smelling room. You’ve spent half the night struggling to fall asleep on the couch that didn't bruise your shoulder blades with its hardness. It was laughable, honestly, any other person in your place would be out like a light, and yet you tossed and turned, your body sinking in the softness of Joel’s couch made you almost uncomfortable. That was until he peeked his head from his room, face wrinkled and sleepy, hair sticking in all the different directions.

"I swear to God, rabbit, if you don't stop spinning like a goddamn rotisserie chicken, I’ll drag this couch outside with you on it."

You pushed the blanket he gave you up to your chin and quickly nodded. Who would've thought the man was such a light sleeper.

It was another half an hour or so until sleep finally took you. Time after time, you replayed the events of the past evening in your head, starting with how Joel approached you on the street and ending with the moment when he literally shoved a set of washed bed linen and a small pillow into your hands. He nodded at the sofa, indicating where you could spend your night, and then towards the closed door - you assumed that his room was hidden behind it - and muttered something resembling "if you need me, knock, but better not, I've had a long day."

You wanted to thank him, but for some reason the words wrapped around your tongue like a spider web, not allowing it to move, so you just nodded and began to make up the sofa. Joel stood there for a couple more moments, and then he himself disappeared behind a wooden door that almost lost its once white color with time.

That was the door you'd been staring at for the last half hour, constantly reminding yourself to blink when your eyes started to water. You had no idea what was ahead of you. It was scary, truly, very fucking scary; but you could also imagine what would happen to you if you hadn't agreed to this fucking adventure.

You were trying to guess what tomorrow would bring you. Would Joel take you to his birdies? Or bring your first client here? Although it was unlikely that he brought unfamiliar men to fuck prostitutes in his apartment ... Nerves gradually overtook all your limbs, icy needles bit the tips of your fingers, cold sweat covered your feet with unpleasant moisture. You turned on your side and curled up in the fetal position, pulling the T-shirt over your knees and hiding your face under the blanket. Tomorrow everything will change. No matter what happens, tomorrow everything would be different. The silence of the apartment was broken by the steady sound of Joel's snoring, which eventually lulled you to sleep.

You were pulled out by a sharp noise and a streaming whisper of Joel's curses from the longest and deepest sleep in the last eternity.

"Fuckin' shit goddamn piece of motherfuckin' crap. Bitch."

You didn't know what elicited such a passionate reaction from the man who seemed more than calm and composed yesterday, but for some reason it made you snicker and you slapped your hand over your mouth to stop the joyful sound.

"Mornin', rabbit. Thought you went into a coma."

He turned to look at you, the open space of the kitchen and living room meant that you were in full view of each other. While you were trying to find a way out of your blanket cocoon, you allowed yourself to look at your host and future boss. Morning Joel was not much different from the one you saw yesterday, except that his hair stuck out in different directions so that the gray strands were more visible, and his shirt was exchanged for a T-shirt. He still wore the same jeans. Barefoot, he moved almost silently around the kitchen opening and closing drawers, taking something from the shelves. You couldn't help but notice how the muscles were obviously moving under his T-shirt, how the dark washed material of his jeans intimately hugged his powerful thighs and buttocks. Whatever he was, he was devilishly handsome. Which ironically suited his reputation.

"Ya gonna keep starin' at my ass or lift yours off the couch and have some breakfast with me?"

You didn't notice that the man looked over his shoulder and noticed your shameless examination of his body a couple of minutes ago. The blood rushed to your cheeks and you felt the familiar heat of shame.

"S-sorry, I wasn't staring."

"'s okay, rabbit. Even nice, considering what we're…" If he said something, you didn't hear, because he mumbled it to himself. You sat up straight, blanket falling off your chest, but still covered your lower half where you currently wore only old cotton panties.

"What we're what?"

"Ehh," he scratched his beard, considering if he should tell you or not and deciding against it. "We'll talk about it after breakfast. And after you take a shower."

"You have a shower here?" You knew that usually, if people or small families were lucky enough to have a separate apartment for themselves, they'd still have to share the shower with other apartments on that floor. It was terrible, but some would rather choose that than have a shower in their home but have to share the place with three assigned roommates like you did.

"Well, I'm definitely not showering in the rain." His attempt at a joke didn't cheer you up, the gears of your brain were still spinning in an attempt to guess what was in store for you. Apart from the obvious. As if hearing your thoughts, Joel once again glanced in your direction, brown eyes ran over your face and body for a couple of seconds, until he shook his head at something he thought about, leaving you in the dark. "C'mon, rabbit, coffee's gettin' cold."

"Coffee?"

When the first jets of scalding hot water flowed over your body, you laughed, letting the water get into your mouth and nose. This feeling was so unfamiliar, but for some reason you missed it like hell. Almost boiling hot, the water like a passionate embrace enveloped your body, every drop was a kiss to your tired skin. For a couple of minutes you just enjoyed the new, yet so familiar feeling, marveling at what comfort such a simple act could bring.

Joel's bathroom was small, bright, and terribly clean. There were no dirty things scattered on the white tile floor, no black mold in the corners, damnit, there were barely any stains on the goddamn mirror. Fucking psychopath. The shower itself wasn’t surrounded by walls, just a small threshold below that did not allow water to spill over the entire bathroom floor, and a simple plastic curtain that protected everything from splashes. A bar of soap and a washcloth found its place on a makeshift shelf on the sidewall. By that time, you wouldn't be surprised if he had twenty-five jars of various products ranging from balm for his slightly curly hair to a cream for his ballsack. You grinned to yourself as you lathered your hands. Your sense of smell was pierced by the odor of pine and something masculine, although you could not name it. This was exactly how Joel should smell. The man was a mystery to you, but every little detail from his slightly manic cleanliness to the smell he chose made total sense to you. You started to wash the soap off your skin, lightly massaging your own shoulders, arms, legs, until your fingers thoughtlessly reached your pussy.

You never actually paid attention to yourself down there, never wondered if you looked wrong or right, didn't find it in yourself to care. Your philosophy was that as long as it didn't hurt, it was just fine.

Your lack of sexual experience never bothered you either. There was nothing you could do about it, not when surviving alone took that much of your strength.

What did Joel say yesterday? Sex is good. Well, you'd be the last to know. The one meaningless encounter you had was so long ago that your partner was already faceless in your mind. How could you find pleasure with someone if you couldn't even do that alone? You had no idea what excited you, what made you feel good. You didn't even know what made you feel bad. With every passing minute you grew more and more desperate. What the fuck were you thinking about when you said yes? One encounter would earn you the name of the worst whore in the neighborhood. If you could just...

Your hands traveled across your body, squeezing your soft tits, caressing your waist, and going lower, where you knew your pleasure had to lie. You closed your eyes in an attempt to find something sexy to think of. Without trying hard, an image of Joel leaning over the sink popped in your mind. As your deft fingers awkwardly tried to play with your soft flesh this and that way, you just continued replaying the way his hips moved, the broadness of his shoulders, the obvious strength in his thick thighs. You bit your lips, trying to shut down the little whimpers and moans your body tried to push out ignoring the calls of morality, or your own reason. You kept circling your buzzing clit, fingers growing tired, arousal seeping from you but release nowhere close. It felt like you were on the verge of sneezing, almost-almost-almost, and then nothing, just the devastating feeling that left your eyes watery and nose running.

You let out a frustrated groan, and then screamed, as you heard a loud banging on the door and then Joel's voice no less loud. "Rabbit, are you boiling alive there or what? Sorry to say, but hot water ain't forever, get outta there."

"Sorry! I'll be out in a sec."

You rushed to turn off the water, surprised that you didn't notice it getting gradually colder. Getting out, you dried yourself off with a big towel Joel gave you after showing you to the bathroom. You reached your hand to the only pair of panties you had on you, frowning at the material still being mostly wet since you only washed them before popping in the shower. Sighing but with no other choice, you put them on, wincing when cold wet material touched your still tensed core. Then there was the matter of clothes. You only had what you wore when you came here, and putting that on now would make the shower you took futile. You should have asked Joel for a t-shirt or something. The thought caught you off guard. You just met the man, and here you were thinking about taking his clothes? But then again, you agreed for this man to practically sell your body, so what's a pair of shared clothing items?

With no other choice, you put a towel around yourself, glad that it was big enough to cover you up to mid-thigh. You were just going to ask Joel for some clothes, and then you'd wash your own.

He was waiting for you in the living room, still dressed the same, but his hair looked as if he combed it. For a few moments you just stood there looking at each other, droplets of water fell from your hair and traced your skin. You wished you could read his mind as you watched him slowly taking in your form - from your bare feet to your wet head - with an emotionless look on his face. You spoke first.

"Can I ask for some clothes? Mine's dirty. Really dirty."

He swallowed, as if thinking over your request. "You won't need it now."

"I'm sorry?" That sounded more like ‘what the fuck’, but you weren't known for the ability to keep a poker face.

"I need you to show me how you get yourself off. I need to know what we're working with." He shrugged his shoulders like it was the most mundane thing you were discussing. His familiarity with sex, the easy relationship he had with something so unknown to you, made you feel like a child. Someone inexperienced, and not important enough to engage with. Someone small. You hated the kinds of people that made you feel that way as much as you hated bulky FEDRA soldiers covered in their armor from head to toe. Their power over you was undeniable and made you feel lesser, transformed you into a bug under a giant's thumb, so easy to pick up and crush.

"What do you mean?" That was obviously the wrong question, but it was the only one you could think of, completely taken aback by his words. You kind of knew what would happen to you in theory, you just didn't know what exactly to expect, whether he'd take you to some shady place full of tired women, or if you'd have a room of your own in a dark basement. The only thing you knew for certain was that soon there'd be a stranger between your legs helping you to earn your living. Not once a thought that you'd have to perform whatever act in front of Joel crossed your mind. It just didn't. "Don't I just... Y’know?"

"What? Get your first client for your pretty face and then leave him unsatisfied, and me with a bad reputation?" Joel raised his eyebrows and shook his head, something he'd been doing a lot recently. "No, rabbit, that’s not how it works here."

A bucket of ice-cold water thrown over a sun-licked body would have felt warmer than a single tear of sweat that dripped down your clean back at that moment. "So you, what, fuckin' test every girl you’ve got?" The slight anger that started boiling in you, but it wasn't pointed at Joel per se, you were irritated with yourself for making the man in front of you into something he wasn't. Into something more human, someone who might have some respect for you, when he clearly was just another man that looked at you as if you were a cunt that occasionally talked.

"I don't test, I make sure they're ready for what's to come and they know what they do. Most of my girls, they have more experience than apparently you do," you internally scolded yourself for the embarrassment that ran through you when his words settled in, there was nothing wrong with not sleeping around, you thought. There was nothing wrong with you. Joel, seemingly oblivious to your turmoil, continued, "so they just show me some stuff, and then I'm content that they can do the job."

You cracked your knuckles, freshly cut fingernails unable to leave the bloody crescents on your palms, something that would help distract yourself from an upcoming panic attack. Your stomach made a summersault as you tried to even out your breathing.

"What?" Joel came closer to you, his broad frame in a simple t-shirt and jeans was towering above you, and that feeling of being too small, too unimportant and weak flooded your lungs again. "You're ready to fuck a stranger, but can't show me how you fuck your pussy? Not sure you can stay, then."

Your head snapped and you met his eyes. They were too curious for a person who was ready to let you go, but you were too deep in your nervous breakdown to notice.

"No, I can, it's just… " He's gonna know and he's gonna throw you out, you thought. No way he wouldn't. He's gonna laugh at you and you're gonna die of hunger in the streets. And then the rats will eat your face. A constant fear that settled in your brain the moment you saw a guy in the streets who met that same fate.

"It's just what?" His voice brought you back from the image of different pests feasting on your lifeless body.

"I know how sex works, okay?" You could still try, maybe he'd be forgiving for your honesty. "But I didn't spend that much time doing this." You threw your hands pointing around in a vague gesture that clarified nothing.

His face was all colors of surprise and he didn't even try to hide it. Brown pools filled with merriment rather than disappointment. "This? Masturbating? You spent over twenty years not getting off?"

"Well, I'm sorry that wasn't my fucking top priority when I was barely conscious to get my body to the bed after working for 17 hours, okay? To an apartment that I shared with three other people!" You felt anger surpassing your shame on the surface and boiling over. You knew snapping at him wasn't the best way to get in the man's good graces, most likely he'd just think you too difficult, and being inexperienced on top of that? Well, that's a one way ticket to the streets. But you couldn't help yourself. Did he actually think that you, what, lived in lavish? Coming home to the silk sheets, having a glass of wine before spending hours on end learning of the pleasure of your body? Was that the kind of girls he had up there? If that was the case, you couldn't hold a candle up to them.

Your days were long, painful and dirty. You'd been lucky enough if you had enough energy to wipe yourself with a semi-clean rag that was once your t-shirt, as you tried to leave the pitiful excuse for the bathroom and hide in your room. Sometimes you were so hungry and exhausted that you didn't even take your dirty boots off, climbing on your bed, stuffing your hands under your head and praying for the sleep to come sooner and relieve you from the pain of your empty stomach and bloodied blisters.

"Okay, okay, don't get so fuckin' aggressive." He raised his hands in defense, "It's okay. At least I know what we have here."

"So, what... I don't qualify? Should I let myself out?"

"No, you should drop the attitude and sit your ass on the couch." He surprised you again, maybe you should have stopped thinking about the man being the Devil's son and right hand. "Lose the towel and underwear and I'm gonna guide you through it, okay?"

Or maybe not.

"You gonna…?"

"No," Joel didn't let you mind stray too far, "I'm gonna watch and tell you what to do, okay? I've got more than enough experience to be able not to touch you and still help you cum."

You huffed, the arrogance this man had must've been bigger than his dick. "Cocky much?"

"That, too." He smiled knowingly and passed your question as a joke, but his face quickly turned serious - professional? - as he gave you another way out. "So, you're in or out?"

You didn't bother to reply, turning to walk towards the couch. Your barely cooperative fingers trembled and you forced yourself to relax as you lifted the towel and sat your ass on the couch, hissing when the cold leather met your asscheeks. Did he make your bed? Joel's eyes were on your covered mound and he smirked.

"That's adorable." His index finger - you thought it was at least as thick as both of yours - pointed at your pussy that was now covered in simple cotton panties with a print that said "Thursday" and a sleepy cartoon cat above it. "Today's Monday, though."

Your face heated, all blood from your body traveling to your cheeks and you mumbled, cursing another sign of your poor sexual experience, "I didn't have rations to s - -"

"It doesn't matter," Joel sounded like he meant it, and moved a chair for himself to sit opposite of you. "Some will find it endearing, and others don't care what you wear as long as they know you'll take it off."

You nodded. It wasn't exactly the encouragement you've been hoping for, but then again, it wasn't Joel's job to encourage you. He got comfortable in the chair, spreading his legs wide in what looked like a power move but he seemed to do it unconsciously, and looked at you expectantly, "Take 'em off."

You nodded, mostly to yourself, and hooked your fingers on the still wet material, tugging it down and hearing a wet slap sound as they ungracefully landed at your feet. Unconsciously, your legs pried together, thighs trying to hide what's laying between them.

Joel was sitting across from a big window, gloomy day's light dancing on his face. He kept looking at you, not hurrying, but visibly losing his patience as his nostrils flared when you just continued pressing your thighs together.

He closed his eyes, rubbing his eyelids, and then focusing back at you.

"Do you want a drink?"

"What?"

"I'm going to pour you a drink, but only this once. I don't allow my girls to be under any kind of substance, understand?"

He got up from the chair and went back to the kitchen, leaving you dumbfounded and half naked alone on the couch. Soon he came back with a glass half filled with amber liquid and handed it to you.

"It's not the best, so better drink it fast, okay?"

You nodded, holding your breath and downing the burning liquid. It wasn't the first time you drank, but you were never a fan of alcohol, usually it only led to an hour of good time followed by at least eight hours of suffering. Joel took the glass from your hand as you coughed, and returned to his seat.

"To make your sexual experience more pleasurable, you need to be excited. You have to be anticipating the pleasure." His voice became more honeyed, or did alcohol already kick in? Whatever it was, you found yourself leaning back on the couch, and relaxing your thighs, though still not spreading them apart. "You need to love your body, you need to be wet and needy. If you don't need anything, you won't get anything. It works like that with everything, including pleasure."

You couldn't take your eyes off his face, furrowed eyebrows cast a shadow over darkening eyes, plump lips that were periodically caressed by his tongue, curved under his words that vibrated under your skin.

"Love your body, rabbit. Caress it, kiss it, excite it. Make yourself needy for your touch, and only then, when you feel like you will cry if you don't do it, can you touch that sweet part of you."

Thoughtlessly, with his words as your accompaniment, with his eyes as your witnesses, you let your hands start caressing your body. Face, neck, hands, with every light touch you grew hotter, with every light touch you wanted more.

"That's it, rabbit, good girl." His voice was barely louder than a whisper, it intertwined with your breathing and you no longer cared how many people were looking at you - a hundred, or him alone. Your hands pulled at the knot holding the towel on your chest, completely exposing you in front of a virtual stranger. As if possessed, you continued stroking yourself, concentrating on the tense nipples, pinching and immediately caressing them with the soft pads of your fingers. Your moan drowned out the quiet "fuck" that Joel gritted through his clenched teeth, and your tightly closed eyes didn't allow you to see him leaning closer, as if he was trying to sniff your arousal in the air.

Your movements grew bolder, greedier. You continued to caress your body, squeezing, pinching and immediately soothing the sensitive skin with gentle touches. Your neck was covered with beads of sweat, and your tongue was constantly moistening your dried lips. Your body was buzzing, you felt like every nerve under your skin was raising to attention, every pore seeking the pleasure your touches promised. Your pussy throbbed, and you clenched your thighs together but now for a completely different reason.

"Touch your clit, rabbit, go on."

His voice was low, like a growl, it also sounded like a beast that was trying to break out of you. Forcing yourself to move slower with all your might, through the hollow between your breasts, diving into the pool of your navel, you soon brought the fingers of your right hand to your almost vibrating clit. Trying not to lose touch with your pleasure, you continued to pull at your swollen nipples followed by Joel's pleased hums. As if forgetting to report to your brain, your thighs parted, exposing your thirsty, wet core where your fingers were reaching. Not wanting to torture yourself anymore, you traced your middle and ring finger through your slit to your sopping entrance to gather some slick and brought them back to your twitching clit.

Your body shattered, as you let out a broken cry when your fingers started playing with your pussy. It was still tense, remembering the pleasure you failed to get mere moments - or was it hours - ago. Up, down, circle. Up, down, circle. Faster, faster, faster still. Your fingers felt cramped, your release nowhere close. Tears sprung to your face and you let out helpless cries and moans, knowing full well that you're failing. Again.

Was there something so wrong with you? Were your settings so fucked up, that even though you wanted the pleasure, you felt your orgasm mocking you so so close, you still couldn't grab it.

Your movements became more frustrated, frantic, almost painful at this point, as your left hand proceeded to practically torture your raw nipples.

"Stop, rabbit." You ignored the voice of the only witness of your most intimate failure and continued flaying your sensitive pussy with rough strokes, almost like you were trying to get revenge at her for failing you. "I said stop, dammit." A large, slightly damp palm wrapped around the wrist of your possessed hand and only then did you abruptly open your eyes, realizing how close Joel was. Your face was hurting from the strain with which you wrinkled it, your teeth almost began to crumble right in your mouth.

"I told you to love your body, not to take revenge on it for all the sins of humanity. What the hell, rabbit?"

"I was almost there," you sobbed pathetically. Your once again lost pleasure made your whole body ache, like you were twisted in the wrong way, bones broken, skin bruised.

"Yes, you were, and what happened then? Why the fuck did you go serial killer on your poor pussy?"

"I couldn't."

"You couldn't?" His eyebrows shot up as he waited for you to continue.

"I get to this point where I feel like it's right there, like I might cum any second, and then I don't." You dropped your head, eyes raking over your naked body, filling your head with embarrassment as Joel, on his knees in front of you and way too close to your still aching pussy, acted as if it was the most normal situation ever. Maybe it was, you couldn't understand anything anymore. "I think I'm broken," your whisper was defeated, just as your spirit.

Joel was still holding your wrist, his thumb thoughtlessly drawing circles on your skin when he shook his head and tried to look into your salt-soaked eyes.

"You're not broken, rabbit. You just think too much with that pretty head'a yours. Y'see," his hand let go of yours, and he brought his index finger to your thigh, tracing abstract lines on your damp skin. You didn't shy away or tell him to stop, so he continued, "pleasure ain't in your head. You need to learn to turn it off."

Easier said than done, you huffed. You were overthinking your whole life, every decision, every movement, every fucking breath. If having an orgasm meant to stop doing that, you were fucked.

"And what if I can't?"

"Then you'll have to learn, and while you do that, you can try giving off your control." You met his eyes, curiosity pooling in yours, determination in his. "Will you let me help you out a little?"

You were either too tired, or too scared to ask him to elaborate what he meant by that. Your body was tired and needy, wanting something you couldn’t give it. Maybe he could. He brought you to this point without even touching. You nodded once, not wanting to appear too eager. Joel nodded in return, sealing the deal.

His hot palms wrapped around your thighs, spreading them wider and allowing him to fit between. He didn't look up at you anymore, all his attention was turned to the center of your womanhood, to the place where you were burning with hellfire. He must have felt at home.

“Look at her, so pretty, so needy. She just needs the right kind of attention.”

It was on the verge of ridiculous to hear him speak about your pussy like that, but you were far from laughing when his thick fingers pried your drenched lips open, exposing your clit to his eyes. His face was too close, and for a moment you could swear you saw him lick his lips, an action that made you both excited and uneasy. There was no way he would…No, as his thumb connected to the burning skin to the right of your clit, somewhere where you rubbed yourself raw, you gave yourself a smack for your passing thought. He’s a man, he wouldn’t. He started circling your clitoris with the rougher tip of his thumb, without directly touching it. Joel’s movements were slow, patient. He listened to your breath hiking up, little puffs of air roughly leaving your lungs when he circled too close to the pinnacle of your pleasure. Your eyes went glassy, looking at him staring directly at your cunt and whispering little praises did something to your body. It elicited a reaction you weren’t ready for.

“Pussy so obedient, she takes everything and asks for more. Hear how wet she is?” Proving his words he dipped lower, gathering a gush of slick that never stopped streaming from your entrance. The sounds were vulgar, you never heard them. You were never this wet before, and you’d start worrying if the physical joy he brought to you wasn’t so overwhelming.

You felt yourself climbing on that familiar ladder of pleasure, for the third time today your body started thrumming, begging you for release. Sending to hell all the thoughts holding you back, you let the music of sex pour out of your very gut. Quiet moans, desperate cries - all of it only raised the level of your pleasure. “Good girl, don’t hold it. Let me hear you sing.”

Joel continued building sensation stroking diagonally across your clit. His surprisingly soft, light touch gradually became more intense as he exchanged stroking to playing with pressure. He let his thumb and pointer finger squeeze your sensitive bud, gently gripping your swollen skin.

You felt like you were about to be torn apart, you just lacked something… You couldn't understand what and almost sobbed in despair. Joel noticed that your melody was becoming minor. “What do you need, rabbit? What does your beautiful pussy want? Listen to her.”

“I don’t know,” your body thrashed like you were possessed, but Joel pressed his left hand into your navel steadying you.

“Yes, you do. Listen to your body, baby, come on.”

“Fingers, please, put your fingers in me!”

“Good girl,” he whispered victoriously. His thumb returned to stroking your puffy, tortured clit just in time as two of his thick fingers entered your begging body.

No matter how much you studied yourself, no matter how many fingers you shoved into your inexperienced hole, nothing could compare to how Joel's fingers stretched you. Just two, they brought a burning sensation, which with its sole existence pushed you beyond the limits of pleasure known to man. His pace, which started out slow and gentle, steadily increased, bringing a new level of intensity. You felt your body gravitating towards the much needed release as the blood rushed to your core. Joel never stopped paying attention to your clit, drawing tight circles around the tense bud as he kept exploring your insides with his fingers. Your mind was blank as the arousal overtook all of your senses, goosebumps danced on your skin and the salty taste of your sweat gave your lips a new flavor. As if he was possessing your body, without mistake Joel kept zoning in on the areas your body responded to the most, his touch more rhythmic and consistent as he went. Every moan and tiny gasp that left you he used as the roadmap to your inevitable pleasure. You let yourself get lost in his movements, the pleasure he elicited from your body, and the heavy breathing that you both shared. Your cunt enveloped his digits perfectly, tight entrance drooling around thick fingers that shallowly thrusted in and out of you in a steady motion, curling at the very end and touching a spot you didn’t know you owned. You were exhausted with all of the sensation as you finally cried out, your own hands squeezed your tits enough to leave bruises.

The feeling that enslaved your body was all-consuming, and you were too consumed by euphoria to notice the hungry, almost possessed look Joel sported on his face as your juices gushed all over his hand.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, rabbit?"

Joel got off the floor and threw himself on the couch beside you. With a quick and efficient motion he tugged the slightly wet towel from under you and cowered your naked front as much as he could. Your lips curved in a tight-lipped smile as you wordlessly thanked him.

"It was hard, doing this." As soon as your brain cleared from the post-orgasming fog, you started thinking again. Bees of rationality stinging your still soft and barely functioning body, making you doubt everything. "And I could only cum when you helped me. Don't think the clients will be up for that."

"Do you think you could masturbate and make yourself cum on your own now?" He leaned his head against the back of the sofa, but turned slightly to you, watching how the familiar sense of doubt twisted your face.

"I think so, yeah. You... you showed me and... Why?" You copied his pose, and now your heads were turned to each other ten centimeters apart. You didn't find it awkward.

"I can show you everything else, too. If you're afraid or not sure. I mean it's not hard to find a man who'll get off on your innocence," you wrinkled your nose imagining a pervert that would ask you to put on bows and white stockings. "Or I can guide you through, teach you anything you'll need before you start workin'."

"Why would you do that?"

"Why not?" He shrugged his shoulders, trying to find a more convincing response. "It's in my best interest, isn't it?"

You shrugged your shoulders back, your nakedness becoming mundane to you, even though you started feeling chills creeping up your body as the towel failed to keep you warm.

"So?"

"Yeah, I think it'd be best," the pleasure Joel gave to you still thrummed through your veins, making your decision easier than it should've been. "For the both of us."

thank you for reading, leave a comment if you liked it!

#joel miller x reader #iamasaddie fic #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fic #tlou fic

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melehound · 8 months

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141 + König catch you staring! GN READER!

Cw: a little cursing I got a little mess with this one 💀

Kyle “gaz” garrick

He’s so cocky 🙄

He thinks his physique is very impressive and he works out a lot (every time he sees a mirror he stands in front of it flexing and checking himself out for 5 straight minutes 💀) so when he catches you staring he feels validated

The second he catches you staring he can’t help but smile like a dork

After that he starts snapping you those shirtless pics in front of his mirror randomly like “whoops didn’t mean to send those to you my bad lol haha 😛” like mf yes you did 💀

John price

He does it on purpose he’s been doing it since you met him he just looks at you to make SURE your watching and then will start working out (he has a makeshift gym in his cold ass basement)

If your in a relationship with him you always know where to find him if he’s not in the bathroom manscaping he’s in his cold ass basement working his ass off

He likes when you watch him work out it makes him feel great about himself and he’ll say something like “I’ve still got it, yeah?” When he catches you staring

John “soap” mactavish

Turns it into a full flexing contest with himself he turns you into his mirror

He really likes to work out he’s not like a gym bro or anything but he likes it enough to do it outside of work biweekly

Sometimes before you pick him up from work he’ll be all sweaty because he wants to take a shower with you after working out but he’s a big fan of sending you shirtless pics with 0 context or warning

You can be in the middle of cooking dinner and he’ll send you like 5 different pictures of him flexing and posing in the gym mirror for absolutely no reason

Simon “ghost” Riley

Genuinely either didn’t know that you stare or he’s doing all this physical stuff in front of you on purpose it could be a mood thing

Like if you walk in on him lifting he’s not worried about you looking but if you were to be hanging out with him and THEN he’d start working out then that’s a sign he wants to see if you’ll stare but it looks like hes the one staring and he’s still wearing his mask so it’s so obvious when he’s staring 👁👁

He’s scaring you a lil bit it turns into a little bit of a staring contest (he almost drops a weight on his foot because he’s not paying attention)

After that he’d try and do what gaz did but he’s a little worried because his old broken decrepit ass phone has such shitty quality but somehow you can see all the scars on his ribs and torso so when he takes shirtless pictures he looks like a red room victim

König

He also takes so much pride in his body type it makes him feel more confident sometimes he thinks his physique is slipping because of how much he likes to eat

So when he catches you staring he gets a little burst of confidence and maybe he’ll flex at you a little bit MAYBE

But most of his happiness is inward he thinks about it before he goes to sleep that night smiling kicking his feet like a teenage boy and he tried to send you shirtless pics on snap but he was sweating his ass off and his hands were all wet and he chickened out

((✿: “she’s gotta be running out of cute hello kitty stuffed animal headers!” think again mfs))

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #könig x reader #simon riley x you #john price x reader #cod headcanons #kyle gaz garrick x reader #141 headcanons #john soap mctavish x reader

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dtfpeta · 9 months

Text

Domesticity with Price...

(a/n: yes I want to make my lover a home cooked meal. yes I want him to wrap his arms around me while I cook. also I was this close to putting nsfw but I may just make a part two)

tags: husband!price, fluff, mentions of pregnancy, f!reader

Word Count: 1.8k __________

Price who comes home to his doting wife standing in front of the stove. A roaring pot of boiling water being salted by your delicate hands which form a harsh pinch on the granules before releasing them into the porcelain dish.

He watches from the door as you slowly canter your hips, humming along to the soft melody of Al Green from your distant record player. His cheeks contort with a smile when he hears your abysmal attempt to recall the lyrics. Startling you out of your unaware serenade when his hands catch in the fabric of your dress to wrap around your waist.

"Smells good." He comments regarding the dish. His face is buried in the side of your neck, breathing in the scent of garlic, rosemary, and other spices that coat the house in its aroma. Your own fragrance of vanilla overwhelms his senses as he sighs into the crook of your neck.

"It's not nice to sneak up on someone like that..." You chastise, knowing the irony that lies in your statement being as stealth is not something your husband is unaccustomed to. "Could've burned myself." You add, half-heartedly scolding and rolling your eyes as his arms tighten their purchase on your hips.

On the stove lies a pot boiling with its now added component of rigatoni. To its side is a sizzling pan that has been providing the house with its encapsulating smell. John eyes the skillet. The melted butter works to caramelize the now translucent onions coated in sparse flakes of red pepper and rosemary. A wooden spatula wielded in your hand stirs the minced garlic cloves, doing your best to prevent their quick to burn nature.

Price loves your cooking and you love to cook for him. Seeing as his face melts into bliss when he tastes what magic you have cast on something as simple as a chicken pot pie. Or the way his eyes bulge when you reveal that a dish he has been scarfing down like a starved dog over the past several months contains mushrooms.

Ever since that day, he has not once argued about an ingredient in your cooking. Even as he eyes the tomato sauce being added to the pan, knowing he is going to suffer a severe case of heartburn but almost welcoming it, as he knows it will accompany an array of flavors he will be holding up his plate for more of.

"M'sorry love." He relishes. "Been looking forward to this all day. N' watching you from the door just made me miss ya' even more."

You scoff at his cheesy comment, placing your left hand to rest on his forearm that is draped around you as your right stirs at the still hard noodles.

You lay your utensil down and lean back into his embrace. Closing your eyes as you feel your bodies link together like a puzzle. One piece being a head taller than the other, but fitting together nonetheless. You sway with your husband to the tempo of the song playing in the background. His body is warm against your back, being stripped of his tactical gear and left in a black cotton shirt tucked into the waist of his same toned cargo pants, the legs of which are folded above his combat boots.

"How was work?" You ask, eyes still closed and body entangled in him. He regards your question with a low hum, feet lightly stepping side to side.

"Hm, the usual. Told some of the boys we could treat em' to dinner sometime. Be nice to get together, maybe show you off a lil'?"

He lightly pinches at your sides while pulling you closer to him. The scruff of his beard dances against your skin as he attacks your neck in quickly scattered kisses.

"John!" You laugh while attempting to distance yourself from his assault. Only to be swiftly turned around where you find his blue eyes smiling fondly at you. The warm tinted light from a nearby lamp casts soft shadows on the crows feet that crinkle near his eyes. The edges of his smile lines sharpening the more he beams at you.

There's not a place on Earth he would rather be.

For the longest, he distanced himself from love. Only finding that unachievable compromises would be asked of him, and due to his work, he was never able to fulfill those wishes. It only put a strain on his and his partners' relationship. He learned to deal with the lack of intimate companionship over the years. Just having the bond of his brothers in arms till he would return to his empty flat and scrounge up whatever microwaveable dish hadn't gone freezer burnt or remnants of leftovers left in his barren refrigerator. Until he met someone he could incorporate into the unpredictable schedule of his life.

The first time you cooked for him he was floored. Joking about how he'd have to hire you as his personal chef and saying how he could only dream of coming home to this every week. You had brought the ingredients to his apartment, insisting that you would treat him to a hot meal if he helped you, which he gladly agreed to. He stood slicing carrots and celery while you stirred a pot of chicken stock, placing sprigs of thyme and bay leaves into the broth as the chicken roasted in the oven, soon to be shredded and added to the pot. Said pot being three times bigger than your head.

"You trying to feed the whole squadron?" He'd teased. To which you only responded with a light snicker, knowing that in making such a large portion would provide him with leftovers for the rest of the week-and then some.

Several years later you now stood in your shared home, a simple wedding band adorning the both of you two's hands. Price's socks litter the shared space until you have to reprimand him to pick them up. Him responding with his own accusations of how you frequently leave your bra on the couch as well as your adversity to keep your hair ties in one place. What can you say, it's just more convenient when they're around the house.

The two of you's cleaning habits aren't the only thing that could use work though. The decorations are an obvious clash of one person who enhances the space with homely, comforting pieces, and another who has a hard time letting go of secondhand artifacts. And after Price's constant defense of his 'live laugh love' banner hanging on the wall of the kitchen, you began to give in to the cliché relic.

A more than familiar tune begins to play from the record player.

"Oh my God" Price's teeth shine through his grin as he picks up on the melody as well. It's the song you shared your first dance together to.

His coordinated hands move to your hips, your own responding by wrapping around his neck. You gaze up at him. The quickening of your heart makes its frequent appearance as he looks down at you. The butterflies you feel every time you look at him have yet to diminish their strength over the years. Even as you heard stories of the dreaded period following the honeymoon phase where couples do nothing but bicker, your heart remained the same.

The only thing you can focus on is his hickory-toned voice humming to the lyrics of the track. The vibration rumbles through his chest, making its way to your ear resting upon him. He sways with your body against his until you are replicating the dance from that night. Since that night he has always made it apparent you were his first priority. He protects and serves you, as you have brought a peace to his life he didn't think was possible.

"Y'know on my way home," he began "saw this woman with her kid. Maybe 5 years old. He was sitting on a bench while she was on the ground tying his shoe. He was swinging his leg, reading some comic book to her. Poor lasses feet barely touched the ground!" He lets out a breathy laugh before pausing for a moment. "Just got me thinking."

"About?"

"Bein' a dad." He stated, kissing the temple of your face. "Making you a mum."

You smiled into his chest. John knew you wanted kids, and he did too. The time just never found itself convenient. And even now there are uncertainties, but the knowledge you have that John would be an excellent father left you planting seedlings of the idea in his head when you had the chance. Passing by a pair of cute baby shoes in the store. The ring of adolescent laughter when you'd visit the aquarium. Or even a dress you would buy, waiting for your husband to compliment it before mentioning the garment worked as a maternity piece too.

Something had been pulling at his paternal strings lately, however. He yearned to fill the house with the both of your makings. Leaving your marks in its foundation. Whether that be with the rug you both haggled for at the flea market. The broken spring of your living room couch, product of an intense wrestling match between you two. (In which both parties were considered victorious by the end.) Or the poolhouse-toned blue paint that made its acquaintance on the crown molding of your bedroom wall. (Also caused by some spout of play fighting or whatever attempt Price had to get his hands on you.)

You leaned back to search his face, only finding a look of great fondness pulling at his features. Your palms came to cradle the sides of his face before a smile stretched on your own.

"Yeah. I think I'd like that." You brought his lips to yours, embracing him in a tender touch as you laughed into the kiss. Your hold on one another tightened. Knowing that Price was ready to take such a giant step now made you giddy as you imagined him holding his future child, playing make-believe with them, and cleaning up their bumps and bruises from playing in the yard.

"Can't believe you're saying yes to a baby before a dog, John." You both laughed before you turned your head at the smell of burnt garlic.

"Shit!" You quickly grabbed a wooden spoon to stir at the red mixture before turning the stove off.

"Don't tell me you lost your touch already, sweetheart?"

"You were distracting me." You declare, pointing your spatula at the towering man. "Just get the bowls from the cabinet and set the table, yeah?"

"Of course, hun." He mocked.

You glared a burning look into the back of his before he did as instructed, your temper cooling as you poured the pot of soft noodles into a strainer.

You and John were able to turn a house into your home. Soon the floor and walls would be sheathed in memories of your family. One of the first being your dinner of a burnt tomato rigatoni pasta.

#call of duty #john price #captain price x reader #price x reader #john price x reader #price mw2

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meowzfordayz · 9 months

Text

shiny

Author’s Note: sooo this was supposed to be for a college au, secretly dating trope suggestion (as well as for an emergency request for fluff 😅)… but then The H*rny™️ hit 🥴, and uhh, it turned into its own lil thing. 😏

shiny

Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

Word Count: ~2,200

CW: 18+NSFW, cream!pie, explicit language, Fem!Reader

~faqs~

“Sanemi, don’t you think she’s a little out of your league?”

Obanai’s stern tone does little to soften the reality behind his question, Sanemi once more reminded of why he can only watch—can only yearn—from a safe distance of ten physical feet, five invisible rungs on the social ladder, and one gigantic she-doesn’t-even-know-I-exist problem.

“Nobody’s out of my league,” Sanemi mutters, glare darkening with his trademark scowl, “She’s just shiny, is all. I’m easily distracted.”

“And that’s why you ignore me whenever she happens to be at the same dining hall as us,” Obanai snorts.

“Fuck-” Sanemi’s fork scrapes across his plate.

Raising an eyebrow, Obanai continues, “And also why you terrified those women away from their table.”

“-off,” fork stabbing loudly at his dry chicken.

“That just happened to be across from where she was sitting.”

“I said-” tearing sloppily into the overcooked meat.

Mask stretching as Obanai grins, he makes his final push, “And forgot to eat your food after she made eye contact with you.”

Mouth full, words muffled, “-f’ck ‘ff!”

“If nobody’s out of your league, then why don’t you say,”—in a breathy, squeaky voice—“Hi, I’m Sanemi!”

Swallowing his bite in a single motion, “I don’t talk like that,” Sanemi glowers, “Besides, shiny things lose their sparkle the moment you touch them.”

“Whatever man,” Obanai scoffs, “Shiny things also tend to hate crude assholes.”

“I’ll crude your fucking asshole.”

Eyes rolling, Obanai switches gears, “So Mitsuri and I-”

Only to be promptly interrupted, fork waved aggressively in his direction, “Don’t fucking start on your goddamn perfect love life.”

“Perfect?” Obanai huffs, whining now, “Dude, you know how long it took for-”

“If this is supposed to be a roundabout pep talk or offering of love advice,” Sanemi stands, half finished plate in one hand, steel grip around his glass with the other as he tilts his head back to chug the remainder of his lemonade, “Just fucking don’t.”

Waiting in lines isn’t your strong suit, fingernails rapidly tapping your lukewarm plate, droplets of water glistening under the too familiar lighting of the dining hall. You’d already scratched off the faint remains of someone else’s lunch, not bothering to search for a new, cleaner plate — they all had some sort of residue. Lifting your gaze to survey the people ahead of you, you’re immediately hindered by the tall, broad stature of a white haired man, the tension in his back muscles emphasized by the tightness of his moss green shirt. Sighing quietly, you notice his neck twitch, the curve of his biceps discernible as his arms—presumably—cross in front of him.

“Hey,” you say, chatter, clang, and hiss of lunchtime swallowing your attempt to get his attention, “Hellooo.”

Somehow, his biceps flex harder, fabric of his shirt’s armholes stretching to accommodate his strength.

“Um, alright,” you mutter, refocusing on your plate, fingernails returning to their tapping, “Never mind, I guess-”

“If you want, you can cut me.”

You blink, vision flashing to the Beautiful purple eyed man turning around to face you.

“Are they real?” you gush, cheeks warming, eyes squeezing shut before you can process any shame.

“Pardon?” a teasing, incredulous lilt lingers in his voice, “I can see, if that’s what you’re-”

“No, like, are they contacts?”

If it wouldn’t hammer the final nail on your coffin of embarrassment, you’d slap yourself right then and there.

“Open your eyes,” he speaks softer now, “I’m not wearing contacts.”

Eyes opening sheepishly, you stick out your free hand, “Nice to meet you, I apologize, you probably get the eyes thing a lot,” they’re too pretty for you to not.

“I’m Sanemi,” he responds evenly, your hand untouched as his jaw clenches, “Are you going to cut me or not?”

“Or not,” you reply quickly, nose scrunching as you glance away, hand dropping limply, “I can wait.”

“Your incessant tapping suggests otherwise,” he—Sanemi—grunts, “If you’re not gonna cut me, then at least be less annoying to everyone else in line.”

You snort, “Are you usually this combative?” pointedly ignoring his jab.

“Usually, I don’t offer up my spot in line.”

“So does that mean I’m special,” you grin now, eyes glittering at the way his brow furrows, “Or just extra annoying?”

“Extra annoying,” he deadpans, “Definitely extra.”

With a friendly pout, you lapse into silence, shuffling forward an insignificant amount, inwardly cursing whoever poorly planned the university budget to short staff the dining halls.

“Y’know, you look familiar.”

Sanemi shrugs, back turned once more to you, shoulder blades rippling with the motion, “Makes sense.”

“What, am I not original enough for you?” you grumble, cheeks warming again as he whips around to glare at you.

“Why are you talking to me?”

“I don’t know!” you exclaim, “To be nice? To be annoying? Because I’m bored and hangry and this line seems to go on for forever?!”

Lips twitching, he slowly gestures in front of him, still glaring, “Cut me.”

“No!”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Before you can protest, he maneuvers himself behind you, impatience radiating from his body, lean muscles barely grazing your bare arms, goosebumps raising when he crosses his own, the view so much more defined from your new perspective. You’re too busy memorizing his physique to notice his reaction to your careful attention; too busy uttering his name under your breath, committing it to heart, to see the blush creep up his collarbones, his neck, his earlobes; too busy finally getting food to catch him opening, closing, then opening his mouth, a hushed And what’s your name? caught beneath hesitation and loneliness.

“Thanks Sanemi,” you say, waving cheerfully, “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

His response falters in his throat as he watches you leave, gaze swiveling to eventually—reluctantly—make eye contact with Obanai. Good effort! Obanai gives him a thumbs up, just as Sanemi groans lowly, flipping him off.

“Sanemi,” you whisper, fingertips walking warmly across his scars, smooth and sensitive to the touch, his breath catching at the light pressure, “Promise me you were sober.”

Body vibrating with quiet laughter, he catches your hand, lips gentle and wet as he kisses each of your fingertips, “I don’t drink,” eyes flitting over to your haphazardly tossed clothing, “And you?”

“I had one,” you murmur, lifting yourself to roll atop him, straddling his waist, thighs sweaty and soft, heat stirring in his groin at the familiar position, “Way before you arrived.”

“Waited for me, hm?” he chuckles smugly, gripping your hips, kneading into your skin, a strangled hiss tightening his lungs as his cum leaks from your slippery folds to his stomach, “Didn’t think I’d see you at a party like this.”

“And I didn’t think you threw parties,” you quip back, reveling in the filthy squelch of your languid grinding, his rigid abdominals flexing shiny and divine against the bump of your clit, “Till your roommate introduced himself, invited me over,” draping yourself over his chest, tits heavy and warm on his sternum, voice promising and heady in his ear, “I didn’t think I’d be getting fucked tonight.”

“Me neither,” Sanemi rasps, cockhead swollen and smearing precum against the plush of your ass, erect again, “Didn’t think you’d show up on my doorstep,” grasping your jaw to present your neck to his bared teeth, nipping greedily, “Looking so fucking gorgeous, like you were begging for someone to devour you,” tongue swiping flat and messy at the hollow of your throat, his hips bucking upward for friction, “Good thing I found you first, hm? Good thing I got to your pretty mouth, to your beautiful cunt, before some other fuck.”

“Sanemi,” you whimper, tugging your head down slightly, just slightly enough to see the dangerous, hazy glint in his purple stare, “W-wasn’t here to f-fuck anyone.”

“But you did, didn’t you?” he teases lightly, releasing your jaw with a final, tender kiss to your chin, “Had me wrapped around your finger the moment I saw you, laughing with your friends in the dining hall, that incredible smile of yours knotting my stomach,” swallowing thickly, dangerous edge fading as quickly as it surfaced, feather soft confession taking its place, “I must’ve become absolutely insufferable,” snorting amusedly, “If Obanai intervened.”

“I forgot to tell you my name,” you admit sheepishly, beginning your own parade of sloppy, heated kisses across the sheen of his collarbones, exertion from his first orgasm still evident, “Thought I missed my shot,” reaching behind you for his cock, deft thumb circling his tip, grinning at his unabashed moan, “Wondered how I could possibly recover from such an encounter with your mesmerizing hair and brilliant eyes,” winking playfully as you squeeze his cock, earning a halfhearted scowl, “Your gentlemanly gesture of saving me from my hanger.”

“Want to feel you again,” is your only warning, and then he’s bullying his cock between your folds, whining sharply as his tip nudges in, rhythm shallow and wanton, gradually stuffing himself further and further into your honeyed, dripping hole, “Fuck,” he grits out, your ass so perfect and weighted atop him, “You feel so fucking good.”

“Is this all you want?” you ask quietly, question nearly lost in the broadness of his chest, pussy clenching tight and overwhelmed around him.

“This?” he manages to scoff, his exasperated, adoring eyes meeting your unsteady, wide gaze, “‘Course not, I want to get to know you, your favorite color, how you look in the morning, what buttons I can push, when to say I’m sorry,” repetitive, gentle grunts underlying his reassurance as he continues thrusting torturously slow, “I’ve got a devastating crush on you, you idiot, so why the fuck would this be all I want?”

“Well you did just call me an idiot,” you giggle, back arching into his movements, his eyes glimmering at the display of your breasts.

He huffs, “Learn it or hate it, but s’my love language.”

“I’m thoroughly enjoying this love language,” you drawl, grabbing onto his shoulders, sweat trickling shiny and subtle as you readjust yourself, “I guess I could adapt to ~odd pet names too.”

As Sanemi’s pace hastens, second climax coaxed harsh and unrelenting from your body, he slips one hand from your hip to your sex, palm pressing strong and intense on your clit, the most stunning wail tearing feral and needy across his bedroom as you cum on his cock, thighs squeezing the air from his lungs, fingernails digging deeply into his shoulders, neck faintly mottled with the aftermath of his love biting.

Sunlight glows weakly through his blinds, the quiet pulse of your breaths preventing Sanemi from wiggling even an inch, too afraid of shattering the stillness of his dream. Your leg’s slotted comfortable and trusting between his own, fingers pressing soft dots into his chest, a sensation he wishes he could bottle for a rainy day. Thankful for his lack of drinking, and thus, lack of a hangover, his eyes blink closed, basking in the recollection of your unexpected passion, the shine of moonlight on your naked figure, the curve of your smile, hot and welcoming against his mouth.

“So how do I look in the morning?”

Your sleepily murmured question startles him, the uptick in your breathing having gone unnoticed, too deep in his reminiscence. Head tilting to better see you, he smirks fondly, gaze more serene without the exhaustion of the day settled in yet.

“Like you just woke up,” he says nonchalantly, nevertheless breaking into an endeared smile, muscular arm tugging you closer to him, so close you can see the flecks of muted silver in his irises.

“Hm, thank gosh it’s Saturday,” you yawn, limbs stretching in his embrace, toes finding purchase on his ankles, “I definitely did not set an alarm.”

“What dumbass would throw a party on a weekday?”

“Not you,” you retort sweetly, dramatically batting your eyelashes, “You’re not a dumbass.”

“Fuck you,” he mumbles.

“Already?” you wink lazily, “Don’t men have a refractory period or something?”

“I only came once last night,” he nearly pouts, hiding his expression in your sunwarmed hair.

“Right,” you chuckle, tender memories of being carefully wiped clean, and then snuggling into him, promptly passing out, floating contentedly through your vision, “You’re amazing.”

“Amazing enough to do this again?” his voice hardens, somehow moving further from you even as his body doesn’t move.

“Didn’t I already ask you that?” you reply gently.

“Yeah.”

Nose crinkling, you poke at his cheek, humming confidently, “I may not have had a devastating crush on you, but I obviously I like you, idiot.”

“Yeeeah,” he sighs.

“So we’re doing this again,” you remark plainly.

“Good,” he finally grins.

“Good,” you grin.

“Ugh,” he scowls, pretending to push you away, only to quickly pull you back into his embrace, pulse thrumming at the momentary distance.

“You weren’t saying that earlier,” you singsong, lightly tucking a longer strand of his hair behind his ear, cooing at its immediate redness, “You think Obanai heard us?”

“Fuck,” Sanemi grimaces, suddenly dreading his next conversation with his best friend.

“Poor guy,” you laugh, tone laced with mock sympathy, “Probably regrets inviting me.”

Shrugging, Sanemi pecks your forehead, voice gravelly as he mutters, “Nah, fuck him.”

#sanemi shinazugawa #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi x reader #shinazugawa x reader #wind hashira #one shot #college au #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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aealzx · 5 months

Text

“Did you get hurt at all?” Don asked, coming up next to April while keeping an eye on Leon as they got Raph situated and passed him a bowl of the chicken stew Mikey had made.

“No, Raph kept me protected while we were getting flung around. I got a little nauseous from the trip, but that went away a long time ago,” April assured, thanking Mikey when he pressed a bowl of stew into her hands as well. It smelled amazing to her empty stomach influenced nose, and she eagerly stuffed a spoonful in her mouth.

“That’s good. Take it easy now, and feel free to ask if you need anything,” Don breathed a small sigh of relief, glad to hear that there weren’t going to be any more injury surprises. That just left one last patient, which caused Don to hold up a hand to refuse the bowl Mikey was pushing his way. “Not now Mikey, I need to check on Le-”

“Hey did you take Donnie’s contacts out?” Leon suddenly blurted around a mouthful of stew, his form leaning against the bed Lil Mikey and Raph were both on now, left leg crossed over the right to remove all weight from it.

Don flinched in surprise at the sudden question, but also mild annoyance at the distraction. It was like Leon knew he was going to address him now, and it looked like Leon was going to take a lot more convincing to pull him out of taking care of everyone else first. But… he did have a point. The battle shell wasn’t a good thing to wear while sleeping, but neither were contacts. “Uhh…. no. I didn’t know he had them, and didn’t think to check,” Don admitted with a semi relenting sigh.

“No problem, I got it,” Leon shrugged, setting the bowl down and teleporting over to Donnie in a flit of ninpo, ignoring Don’s eyes narrowing slightly. As Leon delicately crouched next to Donnie’s battle shell that had been left by the foot of the bed, Don watched in very mild fascination as he expertly manipulated it to open a small compartment. A small click, and shift of one of the panels. It was one of the upper compartments though, so despite being free from its latch the door still got caught on a mildly damaged part, not open enough to fit any fingers in. But it ended up being easy to remedy as Leon just gave it a good smack with his fist to get it to pop open completely. A bottle of contact solution and glasses case were removed from the device, and a smaller case for the contacts was pulled from the belt before he stood and scooted onto the bed. Leaning over Donnie, Leon lifted his brother’s eyelids with one finger and plucked the contacts out with ease that betrayed familiarity in the action. The contacts were then dropped into their case filled with cleaning solution before being put on the nightstand nearby. And then the glasses case was set next to Donnie’s head as he squirmed in his sleep to get comfortable again after getting poked at, with Leon sitting back in content.

“There we go,” Leon hummed, pushing himself back to his feet in satisfaction, ready to return to the other bed to finish his food.

Yet before he could move Don’s forearm was pushing against his chest, firmly shoving him back onto the bed and holding him there as Don’s other hand latched onto his shoulder.

“Wha- Hey!” Leon protested, reaching up to push back against Don while also bodily leaning forward. “What’s the big ide-”

“Is there anything else critically life threatening with your brothers?” Don interrupted, leaning forward slightly to use his weight to counter Leon’s and keep Leon in place.

“What? No! At least… I don’t think so,” Leon sputtered, confusion flashing across his features that quickly became uneasy. “Are you implying-”

But Don cut off that train of thought quickly as well, resorting to rude insistence to break Leon’s current mentality focusing on everyone but himself. “Then it’s your turn.”

The words caused Leon to flinch, reflexively turning his head slightly to hide the bandage on the back of it from Don’s view, his gaze shifting away. “What are you talking about? I’m fi-” he huffed, an automatic reaction spilling from his mouth before he could fully consider it.

“No. It’s. Your. Turn. Leon,” Don insisted, giving Leon a little nudge with his arm to reinforce the punctuated statement and ignoring Mikey’s snickered comment about how strange it was to see Don on the lecturing end of that situation.

Leon’s expression towards him was irritated at first, but after a moment of letting the facts sink in, and for Leon to start to accept what Don was saying, his expression started to soften. Along with it his body stopped pushing against Don’s arm, his form very slowly relaxing as the cool down part of his medic mind started to kick in. His brothers were safe. Their wounds were dressed, their needs taken care of. April was fine too. No one else needed his help. It was his turn now to have his injuries addressed. He was now at the top of the list of the ones that needed care. He knew that earlier, he just wasn’t used to someone else being there. He’d been so easily hardwired into thinking he had to wait for Donnie to wake up to help him. Normally Donnie was the backup, and the one to give a second opinion and make sure Leon didn’t ignore what was inconvenient or scary. He wasn’t used to there being a third medic.

“I-...” Leon gaped, words failing him as he tried to somehow respond. Half formed mental lectures of disappointment from his family filling his mind. Lectures that he ended up half responding to. “Sorry. I’m not… This is…” His voice trailed, unsure of how to put the situation into words since it was so far outside his expectations.

“...You’re not used to having someone look after you?” Don pointed out, chuckling slightly when Leon blinked, then gave a small nod. “It’s okay. I get it,” Don assured, familiar with the feeling. Before Leatherhead had started helping it had only been him after all. Just his own hands and the internet to try and fix whatever disasters his brothers managed to bring on themselves. He felt fairly certain Leon was in the same position. “I got you. Just take it easy now.”

It was strange to hear. Having someone tell him they would take care of him in this situation. Not asking for him to walk them through it. Expecting him to be the doctor and patient. It was strange, but also strangely nice. The words were becoming a soothing balm on Leon’s mind as they repeated in his head. He could just be taken care of this time. He’d seen what Don could do firsthand. And heard what he knew and did for his brothers. It would be okay. Leon could feel the pushed back exhaustion starting to roll into him again, and his knee and head throbbed with painful awareness as he sagged into the mattress, reluctantly relenting to his role as patient. “.... Yeah…. Okay,” he agreed, a little quietly.

Grateful that Leon was cooperating now, albeit awkwardly, Don just gave him a smile that was quickly growing in fondness as he dragged the nearby stool over to sit in front of him. He already had a small flashlight in his belt pouch, having been intending to check Leon over since they had finished with Raph, and raised it now to pass over Leon’s eyes. “Concussion?” he asked, watching Leon’s pupils as the lad blinked and squinted slightly.

“....Yeah,” Leon admitted, a little reluctantly. “Just a small one… I think.” He wasn’t sure how muddled his banged brain actually was, so just expressed what he thought the answer was. Don sounded like he’d known that for a while now, and was just asking Leon because he knew Leon had the medical knowledge to understand the symptoms. Leon was grateful Don hadn’t shoved him on bedrest immediately, and still let him help with Raph. But it also explained why Don had seemed to be keeping an eye on him as well during the procedure. The care and expressed trust was enough to motivate Leon to offer a little more about what he knew of his condition without having to be asked. “April disinfected the head scrape. But it could probably use a bandage change now. And…” he paused, pursing his lips for a moment before willing himself to admit what he’d been denying and brushing off earlier. “My knee really hurts.”

Don’s smile was quick to show his gratitude for Leon’s cooperation, appreciating the information Leon provided that confirmed his earlier suspicions. And he could only give a soft, sympathetic chuckle at Leon’s comment about his knee, moving a hand to momentarily rest on his cheek in comfort. “Old injury flaring up?” he asked quietly.

Giving a slightly hesitant nod, Leon absently rubbed the offending joint. “I have a brace at home that helps. But I… couldn’t really grab it,” Leon admitted, puffing his cheek slightly in irritability. He hated having to have a brace in the first place. It was such an annoyance. At least if he lost his glasses he could still function relatively well without them. But his stupid knee liked to throw a tantrum when it was ignored, or the weather changed, or he walked too much. He hated it.

Yet Don didn’t seem to think any less of him for needing the support. “I see. Mikey has ankle braces too for that reason. And I have a brace for my whole arm,” he admitted, giving a wide grin, reassuring Leon that he wasn’t the only one that had to deal with old joint injuries. “We usually use heat therapy with Mikey, does that work with you?” he asked, just to be sure. He wasn’t surprised Leon’s knee was hurting that much, he’d noticed it was getting worse in the middle of fixing Raph’s leg but had only filed it away in his mind to keep an eye on him. It was easy to tell Leon had been favoring not using his left leg even then, and the fact he teleported to Donnie just now made it obvious the pain had gotten bad.

The way Don talked about recurring pain from old injuries as though it were no different than brushing teeth was surprising, but it also helped Leon feel less self conscious about it. He and his brothers all had to deal with some part of their bodies having chronic pain now, but they had always kept it fairly quiet. Not really talking about it other than to ask for help getting the remedy. It was as though discussing the results of the events that caused the injuries would crack open the well of emotions none of them were ready to deal with again just yet. But there Don was, casually chatting about them as though they were common dinner table topics. It caused a small smile to return as Leon nodded, giving a small, hesitant chuckle. “Yeah… Donnie and I have a bunch of heat packs around the lair, and it kind of sucks when it snows. It feels like we never have enough, and then dad yells at us for having the heater on too high until he realizes why,” he laughed lightly, feeling like old wounds in his heart were healing somewhat with the words. It gave him a mild rush of relief that caused him to keep talking a little more. “Mikey ends up stealing all the ice packs instead, the heat just makes his arms feel worse when they’re flaring up. And Raph switches between the two.”

It was a little concerning to hear that all of these kids had some sort of chronic pain they were apparently dealing with, but Don was grateful for the openness and glad to see the subtle change in Leon’s demeanor. It was easy to sit quietly and listen to the mild ramble, and Don had to chuckle when Leon mentioned their dad complaining about the heater being on too high. He was pretty sure Master Splinter would scold them too if they tried that. Being covered in fur definitely changed someone’s heat tolerance.

It didn’t seem like there were any other injuries that Leon hadn’t noticed on himself, so Don shifted to stand up again. “We’ll collect the electric heat pads that we have to make sure you guys have access to them too then. The ice packs will have to stay in the freezer though,” he assured with a chuckle, reaching out to give Leon a small head pat and rub as he stood up fully. “I’ll get you some tylenol, one of the heat pads, a compression brace for later, and change the bandage on your head. Just stay here and take it easy now, okay?”

“Okay,” Leon chimed in response, kicking his non achy leg in content and finding it easy to comply now. When Don left to get the items, April took her chance to bring Leon’s bowl of stew back to him, passing it over with a grin as she plopped onto the bed next to him and leaned against his side. She had been there for Raph while he was getting taken care of, so she felt her role as big sister was needed once more for her other brother. And he seemed pleased with the decision too, his feet bobbing happily as they wordlessly stuffed more food in their mouths. It wasn’t like what Lil Mikey cooked at all, missing some subtle flavors. But it was still tasty, and they had to chuckle when Mikey assured Raph that he could have seconds, thirds and fourths if he wanted.

The atmosphere of the infirmary was starting to feel lighter as the teens staved off their exhaustion just a little longer. The quiet calmness was making it harder to stay awake, and Leon found that Don sounded just a little louder than expected when he came back with the items. The electric heat pad was plugged into the nearby outlet and clicked onto a medium heat before Don passed Leon the medicine and a bottle of water. “Drink the whole bottle please. I’d rather not have to stick you with an IV too,” he requested, with a slight joke. As Leon obediently popped the pill in his mouth and chugged the water, Don sat back on the stool and gently lifted his leg to rest his lap before he wrapped the heating pad around Leon’s knee. Holding it in place with his hands and pressing the heat into the joint, Don had to chuckle as Leon let out a hum of relief. Keeping still for a few minutes to let the heat soothe Leon’s knee a little more, Don eventually shifted to move Leon's leg to rest on the stool so he could stand and change the bandage on Leon’s head. It thankfully didn’t look infected at all, and was a fairly shallow scrape. So Don just put some ointment on it before he covered it with a clean bandage while Leon quietly ate the rest of the stew he had. By the time Don was done Leon was starting to lean while his eyes fluttered, the soothing heat on his leg lulling him to sleep as well. Even April gave a huge yawn as Mikey almost stealthily slipped the empty bowls away from them.

“Their Raph has already fallen asleep by mini Mikey. We should just tuck these guys in here, they seem used to sharing beds,” Mikey whispered, more to Don than the others. The comment caused Don to glance over to the other bed, happy to see Raph curled up around his youngest brother like Lil Mikey was a teddy bear. They both looked peaceful, and just having the other two sitting next to him seemed to have smoothed the furrow in Donnie’s brow completely.

Giving another chuckle, Don nodded in agreement before he gently hovered his hands towards the remaining two teens to coax them to lay down as well. It took a bit of shuffling, but luckily they didn’t protest. April’s glasses were slipped off and placed next to Donnie’s case, and Leon crawled over to the other side of him before putting his own case on that side of the bed as well. It took the last of Leon’s effort to take his own contacts out, using a portal to drop the case on the nightstand, before he gave in to his exhaustion and flopped over.

“Sleep well. Call us if you need anything,” Don hushed, pulling spare blankets over them as the three teens shifted to get comfortable around each other.

____________________

Previous Next

____________________

Everyone is taken care of now, yeeey time for a good nap XD

#my art #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise + 2003 crossover #cross dimension kidnapping #03 don #rise leo #writing #fanfic #long post

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

Text

milkshake • e. jaeger

this is just a short little blurb for my girl @spaceforher!! I couldn’t stop thinking about your selfship with eren, and I just had to write this! 🥹

just some cute lil fluff, him using a bunch of pet names (pretty, baby, mama) plug!eren being a flirt, some sweet banter

wc: 1.0K

.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*: .･*:｡.･*:｡.･

“Number 254. Chicken wrap, curly fries and strawberry milkshake!”

an order and phrase you had uttered on several occasions. So much so, it was practically embedded in your memory at this point. Extra mayo, no pickles and crispy fried chicken. You could recall the exact way it was supposed to be prepared..especially because you could never forget the customer who requested it. Traipsing up to the counter; the sound of slides shuffling across the freshly waxed tile floors as it was always near closing time when they visited. A tattooed hand with a silver watch cuffing the wrist, reaching out to you and grasping for the bag before giving a very sweet and flirtatious thanks for his food and your hard work. “Thank you, mama. ‘Appreciate it.” Using the endearing name each time and sending flutters throughout your stomach. Mainly due to the deep tone and charm. Like clockwork, you’d peer up as you passed the bag over and see that handsome face..big green eyes; glazed over, covered by black rimmed glasses. Dark hair styled up into a bun with the remainder hanging down. Flashing a pearly white smile that made you melt..

Eren Jaeger, the one and only man that evoked such feelings out of you and quite honestly, the only enjoyment in this hectic and chaotic job. You looked forward to seeing him come through that door..placing his order and messing around with all of the employees as he did so. Cracking with some of his former classmates and friends who just so happened to work the same shift but his eyes couldn’t help but to be fixated on you. As if he purposely picked the days when you were scheduled. You could see his black and red Challenger outside, or rather hear it before he even arrived..whether from the pipes or loud music. No secret to you or anyone else how he afforded such luxuries at such a young age. He had quite the reputation and it didn’t precede him either. Oftentimes, even selling to some of your coworkers discreetly. Still, you looked forward to seeing the long haired cutie coming through the door. Tonight in particular was rather busy and you wanted nothing more than to go home, get off your feet and relax. But the last thirty minutes of your long shift was dragging along so you’d return to the back to finish up any last minute cleaning and inventory before jetting out of there. No customers had come in so it seemed things were finally slowing down. A couple of your coworkers had gone out for a final smoke break when you heard the door open. “Welcome in. Be with you in just a moment.”

it was then that you’d walk out to be greeted by a tall guy in a hoodie, black sweats and clear frame glasses around his baby face. His eyes dimmed and glossed over in red as he neared the counter. “You good, I actually don’t wanna order anything.” Immediately, you’d feel yourself becoming flush and heated, realizing that this is the first time that you and him had actually spoken outside of eye contact and a few flirtatious thank you’s. “Oh, it’s you. Strawberry milkshake.” Immediately sending a smirk across his face. It was something you did with all of your frequent customers..nicknaming them after their orders. But with him? It was a bit more special. You had been hoping that the two of you had gotten the chance to talk one of these days and finally, the moment had come. But not without you getting all flustered and him doing the same, surprisingly! In your uniform, hair tied into a ponytail underneath your ball cap, bare faced but he couldn’t get over how beautiful you were. Something he wishes he could have told you the first time he came in but things were always far too busy for him to get that chance but instead, he’d take this opportunity to shoot his shot!

“You must be here for (coworker’s name). I’ll go get them.” As you were privy to their exchanges but you’d be surprised to learn the intentions of today’s visit. “Nah..actually, I was hoping I’d run into you.” Which earned him quite a confused glare. Just what business did this man want with you?

“Me?” “Yeah, I mean. Every time I come in here, it’s always super busy and you’re working so hard so I didn’t wanna stop you..but I just wanted to introduce myself.” Omitting the fact that he had frozen up several times while you took his order. Truth was, he wasn’t even too fond of the dairy treat that he consistently ordered, considering the fact that it never agreed with him afterwards and he’d instantly get sick but he had hoped that one day, you’d catch on and notice so that he could strike up a conversation but oddly enough..he always became too nervous to speak! You were so pretty and that sweet, adorable demeanor always made his heart flutter. Which was crazy because this man probably had every girl in this city trying to get with him and he looked as if he could charm the pants off of a snake. Not to mention the fact that he had always shot you a wink or called you a sweet pet name as he acquired his meal. Saying things like ‘baby ‘ or ‘pretty’. Something many ladies had probably heard. However, his attention was fixated right here and now that he finally had the chance, he wasn’t going to blow it! Letting out a soft chuckle, you’d cover your mouth and laugh, which made his cheeks visibly glow red. “Did I say something?” Not knowing just how cute he was..this well known plug blushing like a schoolgirl over you!

“No! Not at all. I’m just..really happy you came and talked to me.” Trying to play it cool as you were screaming inside. But this was a perfect opportunity to take the lead and see where things went.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, milkshake. I’m (y/n).”

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guess-my-next-obsession · 1 year

Note

i miss the elementary updates sm 🫶🏽 ur writing means everything to me 💘

i’ve been missing them too!! here’s a lil something for ya 🤍:

The Show Of Appreciation

pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader (Elementary-verse)

rating: E (18+ only, oral sex (fem rec), fingering, dirty talk)

wc: 1.6k

series masterlist | joel masterlist

June 2010

“Baby, come quick!”

You were standing inside the kitchen, cutting up a watermelon into small chunks for your five and two year old children while Joel kept watch over them outside in the pool.

Dropping your knife as safely as you could manage with worry coursing through your veins, you ran outside, sure that you were going to have to rescue your drowning children, but instead finding your youngest, Miles, swimming across the shallow end to his father. Cracking a big grin, you crouched down by the edge of the pool behind where Joel waited in the water to watch Miles, his Star Wars themed floaties wrapped around his chubby little arms and a big toothy grin on his face.

“Good job, Milo,” Joel exclaimed, using a nickname the two of you had initially sworn off using, but that remained lodged into your daily vocabulary anyways.

“Those swimming lessons are paying off,” you added, adjusting yourself so that you were sitting down on the edge with your feet in the water. Iris, your five year old, came over from where she had been sitting beneath the shade, playing with her dolls. She stood behind you and draped her arms around your neck.

“Mama, where’s the watermelon?” she asked, trying her hardest not to whine. Joel lifted Miles out of the water and sat him on his shoulders, forcing the child into a giggle fit as he turned to face you.

“Yeah, mama,” he grinned. “Where’s the watermelon?”

“I was in the middle of cutting it when you scared me,” you answered, tilting your head at him sassily.

“I’m hungry,” Iris persisted, this time unable to hide her impatience.

You sighed and stood up, watching as Joel gave you an empathetic look as you walked inside with your daughter in tow to help you out. Iris held the big bowl of watermelon in both her arms while you carried three juice boxes and a beer for Joel in one arm and a bag of chips in the other. Joel and Miles we’re already sat at the patio table, dripping from the pool and eagerly awaiting the lunch you’d prepared for them.

“Gotta go grab the sandwiches,” you announced as you sat down the drinks and chips.

“Let me, baby,” Joel offered, standing up quicker than you could stop him. “Sit down, relax.”

“Mama, I can’t get my straw in,” Iris whined again, the sun clearly making her cranky. You gave Joel a knowing look before moving to help your child.

“Today’s not a relaxing kind of day for me, I guess,” you mumbled under your breath, hating that your exhaustion was ruining an otherwise lovely summer afternoon. Joel frowned and kissed the crown of your head as he passed behind you to go into the house to grab the sandwiches, leaving you to keep the kids occupied.

After finally getting Iris to eat her sandwich—she wasn’t happy that she was getting turkey instead of chicken—the kids were put down for the afternoon naps. You stood in the laundry room, moving the freshly washed load into the dryer so that you could wash the next batch, but before you could get started on it, two large, warm palms rested on your shoulders from behind you. You let out an exhale of relief as Joel started to knead at your tense muscles until you melted back against him.

“Time to relax,” his husked into the shell of your ear.

“Gotta do this load so Iris has her stuff washed for ballet tomorrow,” you mumbled, lazy and lost in the feeling of his hands on you.

“I’ll do it,” he promised as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Go sit down, put a movie on. I’ll be right there.”

“Ba—“

“No,” he shook his head and used his hands on your shoulders to walk you out of the laundry room and into the living room. “Sit.”

“Yes, sir,” you smiled and took your usual seat, grabbing the throw blanket that laid over the back of the couch and unfolded it over your legs while Joel went back to the laundry.

You curled up on your side, flipping through channels until you saw that Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid was playing, and you were lucky enough to have caught it close to the start.

“You know me so well,” Joel smiled at you as he entered the room, finding his place on the couch, squeezing in behind you to hold you as you watched the movie.

“Paul Newman is so—“

“Dreamy, I know,” Joel chuckled against the shell of your ear, his palm flattening over the sliver of exposed skin between the hem of your tank top and waistline of your pajama shorts. “This movie’s gonna get you worked up.”

“You’re getting me worked up,” you corrected, smiling at the chills trickling down your arms from the simple contact of his skin on your hip.

“Am I?” he teased, kissing your neck before grazing his teeth against your earlobe. You hummed and nodded, closing your eyes to relish in his touch. “Good.”

Joel pressed himself into you, the thin material of his shorts doing little to contain the swelling of his girth as he continued to rock against you slowly. A shivered moan slipped from your lips as his palm slid up your front, underneath the cotton of your top until he was cupping the weight of your breast.

“These kids have been workin’ you into the ground, baby,” he husked, pressing his lips to your pulse. “I’ve been so busy at the office…not here enough.”

“S’alright—“

“No,” he shook his head and pinched your nipple, earning a gasped moan. “S’not. M’gonna handle the kids the rest of the week, baby. Gonna give you a break. God knows you deserve it. Such a good mama…such a good wife.”

“Joel,” you shivered as his hand slid down your stomach until it was slipping into your shorts and down to part your lower lips.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he drawled, low and needy as he circled your clit. “Have I been neglectin’ you?”

“A little,” you smirked, turning your head to look at him as he laid behind you.

“My apologies, Mrs. Miller,” he grinned, lowering his lips to hover over yours. “Don’t know what I’ve been thinkin’.”

“You wanna know what I’m thinking?” you asked and he nodded. “That I miss your tongue.”

Joel groaned and pressed his lips against yours, sinfully and slowly swiping his tongue against yours as he lowered his fingers to curl up into your cunt, swallowing your moan down greedily.

“You want me to lick this pretty pussy, baby?” he purred, fingers targeting that blinding spot inside you while the heel of his palm grinded against your clit. You nodded urgently, brows already furrowed as the knot in your stomach tightened and tightened. “Want me to drink you up? Lick you clean?”

“Fuck, yes,” you shivered.

Joel pressed his lips against your shoulder before shimmying down the sofa until he was sitting on the opposite end, situating himself between your open legs as you rolled onto your back. Grinning at you, he slid his hands up your bare legs until he was hooking his fingers into the band of your shorts, peeling them off you.

“Look at that.” Joel licked his lips as he spread your thighs open wide, his palms splayed out over your thighs, gripping the soft flesh there as his eyes admired the arousal gathered on your cunt. “Makin’ my mouth water, baby.”

“Taste me,” you begged breathlessly, the pounding in your core turning you impatient. Joel grinned and leaned down, locking his eyes with yours as he stuck out his tongue and just barely grazed it across your clit. Your body reacted instantly, jerking at the teasing contact. “Such a tease.”

“Feels better when I make you wait and you know it,” he countered, placing a kiss on your inner thigh.

You couldn’t help but admire your forty-three year old husband as he looked at you from between your thighs, his tongue slowly and softly working in circles against your clit. His hair was greying now, but he looked even better to you than he did when you met him ten years before. You briefly found yourself hoping he felt the same about you and your body after ten years and two kids.

“Pussy tastes so fuckin’ good, baby,” he praised in between deep, wide licks up your seam. Your mouth remained opened in a wide “O” as you watched him work you up, each stroke of his tongue bringing you nearer to the sweet relief you’d been craving since he first touched you. “Need my fingers to cum?”

“Wouldn’t hurt,” you panted back, brows stitched together and your fingers buried in his hair. Joel smiled as he slowly slid a finger inside of your heat before adding another, curled them up towards the roof of your cunt while his lips sucked on your clit. “Fuck, Joel,” you whined, letting your head fall back against the decorative pillow beneath your head. “I’m gonna cum—fuck.”

“That’s it,” he panted, catching his breath before returning to your clit.

The tension that had been building and building finally snapped under the synchronized strokes against your nerves from inside and out, your fingers gripping his hair to hold him against you as you rode out the waves of your high.

“There you go, baby,” he purred, moving his mouth from you but keeping his fingers inside of you, pumping them in and out just to watch you squirm and shake. When it all began to be too much, he pulled his fingers out of you and sucked them clean before coming to lay in top of you, his head on your chest. “How was that?”

“Relaxing.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller reader insert #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #elementary

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sturnsgirl · 4 months

Text

SNOOZE

⟡ C.STURNIOLO ⟡

IN WHICH-Y/n and bf!Chris are sharing airpods while "Snooze-SZA" starts playing and chris takes a line a lil to srs.. § eventual smut §

Y/n-Pink // Chris-Orange // Song- Blue // NSFW!

Hey its madi! i was listening to to snooze nd js kinda had an idea!

⟡•STURNSGIRL •⟡

It was late at night and me, Matt, Chris, and, Nick were on our way back home from a party of a friend of Nick's.

Nick was dead asleep in the car and Matt was too drunk to drive so he was also slumped in the back with Nick which led me to have to drive.

It was 2:08 am and I was listening to SZA's "SOS" album when I saw Chris with nothing to do.

"Hey Chris, do you want my other AirPod?" I whispered so that I wouldn't wake up Matt or Nick.

"Yesss thank youu" he says taking the airpod out of its case and into his ear.

The song "Low" had just ended and "Snooze" played next. "I touch that fire for you. I do that 3, 4 times again I'd testify for you" The song plays as I lose my focus around and get lost in my thoughts.

CHRIS'S POV

I always deep think about the music Y/n listens too. Does it have a meaning? does she relate to it? Does she want something the song says?

I alwasy listen closley to the lyrics maybe so that i could bring the song to life. i listened to the song and wondered but instead of keeping it in my thought i ask her.

"Hey ma, why do you like this song?" i ask noticing i snap her out her trance in her thoughts.

"it remind me of us, or you" she says looking at me and back on the road

i nod my head and smile turning back to my side and listen to the lyrics closer.

"I don't got nobody, just with you right now Tell the truth, I look better under you" the song plays.

i look over at y/n and back. if this song reminds her of me does that mean she wants to be under me? with that i already has plans for when we got home.

Y/N'S POV

We had finally made it home about an hour later. I pull up in the driveway and unbuckle my seatbelt looking back at matt and nick then back at chris.

"I got Matt you just wake up nick. im gonna have to take care of matt and put him to bed." i say due to the fact matt is completely wasted and need to be taken care of the right way.

I get out the car while chris wakes nick up and i slowly wake matt up

"Hey Matt we are home can you stand up for me?" i say in a soft tone making sure to not be any louder which could casue him a worse headache that what he probably already has.

I grab both his hands as he sits up and slowly gets both his feet out before fully getting out. chris and nick were already in the house at this point so i had closed the car door and walked inside with matts arm around my shoulder so he could walk. I sit him down on the bench by the front door and take his shoes off as well as mine and lead him upstairs to his room

"Okay matt ill be right back. change into your pyjamas and laydown." i say leaving him in his room as i walk out to go downstairs and get things to help him.

I get downstairs to see chris leaning on the kitchen counter on his phone looking up to see me

"Hey princess" he says walking up to me as i walk into the kitchen

"Hey baby" i say as he wraps his arms around my wait looking down at me pecking my forehead before i lazily lay my head on his chest for a minute before pulling away gently.

"i need to get some things for matt can you help?" i ask going in the pantry to get some chicken soup for matt

"Yes mamas what do you need" he says

"can you grab that light blue cloth and heat it up for 3 minutes and get matt 2 bottles of water?" i ask pouring the soup into a pot over the stove

"okay sweetheart" he says grabbing the heating cloth and warming it up while getting the bottles of water and placing them on the counter waiting for the cloth to warm up.

After about 10 minutes chris had already taken up the things i needed him too like the cloth,water,advil and,pain killers. All i needed was to give the soup which was now done. I pour the soup into a bowl and grab a spoon before taking it upstairs to matt. i enter his room to see chris sitting on the edge of the bed next to him

"Okay sit up slowly matt." i tell him as he does so that way i can place the soup on his lap.

"okay eat this, then take 2 advils and finish both waters then you can go to bed." i tell him as i put his light remote next to him and tell chris to leave him be as we walk out and close the door behind us.

"You would be such a great mom mamas." chris says as we enter his room.

"really? thanks baby" i say smiling

'Hey ma remember how we were listening to music earlier in the car? and the song you said reminded you of me?" chris says sitting on the edge of the bed signallig for me to come sit on his lap.

"oh yeahh snooze by sza. why?" i ask sitting on his lap facing him.

"well because imma make one line in particullar happen." he says and with out even ebing able to say another word he flips me over under him kissing my neck up to my mouth and we start to make out. his hand roaming my body up and down lifting my crop top up and my skirt down and as soon as that i knew what line he was talking about.

he takes off his pants and his shirt and i could already see how hard he was. he wastes no time and rips my panties off throwing them somehwere in his room and rubs his fingers in between my fold slowly and softly up and down. i let out soft moans with every movement he makes which only makes me more desperate bucking my hips up with his touch.

"Chris please..just do it."

he knows what im asking for so he does exactly what i ask." he started with one finger curling it up and in and out adding a second one moving quicker and quicker with each time he pulled out.

"mmph chris" i whimper out as he moves his fingers quicker and quicker

"Ch..Chris im gonna cum please." i beg as he slows down and pulls his fingers out

"not yet ma i want you to cum on my dick." he says pulling his boxers down while i take my bra off.

"your so fucking beautiful ma." he breaths out while he palms himself right before he starts to line his tip up with my enterance and slowly enters me.

"ohh fuckkk" he huffs out moving in and out slowly

"Chris f-faster." i moan out as he starts to move quicker and quicker pumping in and out of me at an unreal pace hitting my G-spot repeadly causing me to let out the loudest moans.

"Mmh chris im gonna c-cum" i say clawing into his back

"yes ma cum. cum all over my cock like a good girl" he says as i clench around him and we both release in and on eachother with me moaning and chris letting out the hottest groans.

"ugh fuck mmph good girl." he says.

he pulls out while his liquids drip out of me he picks me up and takes me to the bathroom to clean us up.

he sits me on the counter while he turns the shower on and lets the water run.

"I love you Princess" he says softly placing a kiss on my forhead.

-Madsssss

follow me & @is4belle new TT- @sturnsma

idk if i like this??

request down below ,in my dms or here! -> https://www.tumblr.com/sturnsgirl/737532144341090304/hi-im-madi-im-a-day-1-chris-girland-i-started

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #smutty smut smut #eventual smut #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #snooze #sza

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ilydeku · 1 year

Text

senku when you're sick

- LMAO

- YOU IDIOT

- he definitely gonna make fun of you

- you'll be sniffling, sneezing, coughing, suffering in your bed when he gets home and he'll start laughing at you on the spot, lovingly of course

"...Senkuuu..." You dared to utter another word, or else a coughing fit will start to erupt. He walks up to the side of your bed after hanging his lab coat and setting down his gear, covering up his smile with his hand.

"Pfft, are you serious, y/n?" He failed to hide the laugh that escaped going forward. "You weren't like this yesterday, with all that 'Oh no, Senku! I'm not gonna get sick if I go outside in the rain, in summer wear, and measure acidity levels! I'm practically immune to this weather!-" He palmed his head as his laughter let loose from the strain.

"Shut up! It wasn't supposed to happen like this! I.." You stopped and quickly stuffed your face into your arm as violent coughs began to force out.

"Like what..? You laid in bed all day all icky?" He retorted, taking a seat on the bed. He leaned closer to you and pushed back the hair in your face before resting the back of his hand against your forehead, feeling your warm temperature. He concluded with a hypothesis of what you had, judging by your temperature and symptoms. He looked down at your vulnerable form and sighed.

"...you're one stupid girl, you know that?" He remarked as you rolled your eyes in ignorance. He leaned down again and tucked your loose strands of hair behind your ear. Your cheeks burned from the small action. "...but, you're my stupid girl, so I guess you deserve a bit of leniency."

- damn i just reread that and it got me kicking my feet giggling and shit but anyways 💀

- don't you worry one bit, senku will have you taken care of after clowning you, starting in the kitchen with an apron tied on

- he'll cook you up a nice pot of chicken noodle soup, vegetables added for nutrients

- he'll make you a steamy cup of chamomile tea with lemon and honey, of course, the amount adjusted to your likeness of sweet or lemony

- he knows liquids are very important, so expect more room temperature juices and hot teas of the such from him

- he'll also gather all the supplies of tissue and cough medicine in the house and have it set up on the nightstand on your bedside

- if you run out of tissue, he'll bring you a roll of toilet paper bc they're basically the same thing, and you'll start laughing for no reason 💀

- after every cup of tea or bowl of soup, you compliment his culinary skills, and in some cases, you thank him dearly, to which he scoffs and rolls his eyes in response

- but in reality, it makes his heart beat a lil faster, makes him smile

- if your illness is way out of what he expected, he'll go out of his way to diagnose you, taking a small sample from you and checking the bacteria for himself under a microscope

- he'll do anything for you in order for your health to get back up to par

- except maybe one thing

"But Senkuuu I don't like that medicine..." you complained, eyeing the tiny cup of thick dark blue that he poured for you to take earlier. "It's gross...like drinking liquid metal chemicals."

"Y/n you're acting like a child. Of course, it's going to taste like that, it's medicine. Now, go ahead and take it already." He turned around to exit the room, but he was struck behind by the pillow you'd thrown.

"...I'll only take it if you give it to me." He turned around and stared at you. You stared right back at his crimson-red eyes as you crossed your arms. A long, heavy sigh escaped from his mouth as he picked up your pillow and made his way over to your side of the bed.

"Fine. But only because this medicine is really for your own good. It's important you take."

"Yeah, yeah, okay." You sat up while he first stuffed the thrown pillow behind your back. He picked up the cup with his fingers while the other hand cupped your cheek, his thumb resting just above your chin and under your bottom lip. Before he began the action, you stopped him mid track. "No I...I want you to give it to me from..." Your hand motions finished your words. Your thumb brushed over lips in a coy manner, but Senku could read in between the lines.

"Ew," he muttered stonely. "Why the hell would do something like that?" Rhetorical question, y/n.

"...it'd taste sweeter coming from your lips." You wiggled your eyebrows teasingly.

"..." He sighed once more, pinching his nose bridge. "...If you wanted to kiss me that badly, you should've said so in the first place," he chuckled, a smirk beginning to form. "You know I give what you ask for, y/n...Now, close your eyes." He ordered before filling his mouth with the medicine from the tiny cup. He leaned down, cupping your face and brushing his lips against yours, allowing you to part them a little. Then, his landed on yours, followed by the liquid slowly dripping down your throat. You quickly swallowed to capture his lips in an embrace, savoring the warmth you shared.

- 😍

- PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE

support me? :)

#senku x reader #senku ishigami x reader #ishigami senku x reader #senku x y/n #senku ishigami x y/n #dr stone x reader #drabbles #chrome x reader #gen x reader #gen asagiri x reader #senku #senku ishigami #dr stone #x reader #senku imagine #senku headcanons #w.midizu

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jhoneybees · 4 months

Note

I love your writing! It’s very pretty and I love to scroll mindlessly thru your account. Could you do a lil fic where the reader is really sick with a cold? I think 50s Elvis would B ideal for this but it’s your choice who you pick ❤️

— N

Sorry for the wait! I love this idea! And thank you for requesting ☺️

Worrisome

Characters: Elvis X fem!reader

Warnings/triggers: Sickness

________________________

When you're dating Elvis, something out of the ordinary happens regularly, both good and bad. Which this time, after a long day of travelling to the next hotel during Elvis’ tour, you begin to have a runny nose and a cough. Your boyfriend being the kind to get worried about you easily, you attempted to be discreet with your coughing and carrying on but that didn’t last long until he noticed your hand on your forehead as if to check the temperature of a fever. “Are you sick darlin?” his voice laced with concern as he walked over to you after excusing himself from the conversation with the guys, knowing it wouldn’t be convincing you shook your head anyway. “No.. just a lil tired ‘s all” Elvis gave you a look “Ya lyin’ aren’t ya?” you sighed “Yes Elvis I’m lying, I’m sick” he replies with a nod, kneeling on one knee in front of you being sat in the passenger's car seat and taking your hands into his. “Fever?” he asks, you shook your head “No just a runny nose and a-” a scratchy cough interrupts making Elvis furrow his eyebrows. “Cough…” finishing your sentence. Elvis nods again “Let’s get ya inside” you appease by nodding and carefully standing up on your feet, Elvis reassuringly holding your hand.

Leading you inside the hotel room, Elvis directs you to sit on the bed while he gets you a glass of water. “Drink some water, it’ll help” you silently nod and take the glass. He lays a hand on your forehead while you drink and clicks his tongue. “Seems like you got a fever too honey” he states, you were feeling a bit hot during the drive. “Yeah..” is all you could say, leaning over to rest your head on his lower abdomen, you feel tired. Elvis smiles small, stroking your hair silently. “Do you want to take a bath?” you close your eyes while shaking your head. Elvis grins “Alright, let’s getcha in your pyjamas then”

After swiftly helping you into your nightgown, Elvis pats your knee “Get ya self comfortable, imma call room service” you shuffle up to the headboard of the bed and get yourself under the covers. Half an hour later, the chicken soup arrives. Elvis rests himself on the edge of the bed, beginning to scoop some soup, blowing it gently earning a scoff when he takes the first bite. “Looked tasty, had to try it” he chuckles ,you playfully roll your eyes.

Just as you take another bite, a knock comes to the door. Elvis quickly answers, discovering he had 2 hours to get ready before he leaves for tonight's concert. He closes the door after a brief chat and walks back to sit on the bed, the concerned expression Elvis had earlier returns on his face “ I’ve got 2 hours before I go, are you gonna be alright without me?” you hum quietly “I’ll be alright, you go get ready” Elvis smiles softly before he gets up to prepare himself.

Elvis quickly changes into his gold lame suit and stands in front of the full body mirror on the wall, making sure his collar is neatly folded and combing back his gelled up hair. Elvis turns around to face you “How do I look?” Scanning him from head to toe, you hum softly with a soft smile “Handsome” a sly grin creeps onto his face “Thank ya darlin’” a knock comes to the door again and a voice “Are ya done EP?” Elvis sighs “Yeah I'm done, be there in a bit!” Just before he leaves, Elvis leans down to give you a delicate kiss on the lips “wish me luck” you nod with a smile.

The group of cars finally leave and you're now alone at the hotel, you decide to sleep since there's nothing else to do. An hour into your sleep, you wake up to the sound of the phone ringing. Sleepily as you get out of bed and walk to the phone, yawning before you speak “Hello?” at the other end you could hear the faint sound of a crowd “Hi Honey, it's Elvis… are you feelin' alright?” wiping away sleep from your eye “Hi baby, yeah I'm alright.. I was just sleeping” after hearing what you said, Elvis feels bad for waking you up “Oh, M’sorry dear you go back to sleep” you giggle softly “Alright, see you after the concert okay?” Elvis hums, ending the call with a “goodbye, I love you” and you go back to bed.

Elvis waits around backstage, he bites his nails quietly. Yes he's nervous to go up on stage but also the thought of you all alone without him there to take care of you is itching at him. Of course you can look after yourself, it's not the end of the world but the secure feeling of actually seeing you sleeping peacefully in bed is what he wants at this very moment. He shouldn't call you but he can't stop thinking about his lingering thoughts.

what if you got to go to the bathroom and just suddenly fainted? What about if you vomited and you're too tired to clean up the mess? Oh it's eating him alive, he has to call you now.

The phone rings again and you sigh, getting out of bed to answer the call “Hello?” Your voice is evidently tired just by your unusually quiet voice. “Darlin'? Are you alright? I-I got worried” your eyes begin to droop “Yes Elvis I'm alright, I was sleeping sweetie…” you repeat your words again to hint at him that you just want to sleep with no disruptions “I figured you would be… sorry honey, I got worried about ya.. you go back to sleep, I'm sorry” a tired hum leaving your mouth “Don't be sorry baby, I love you…see you later” the call ends again.

Just when you begin to fall into deep sleep…the phone rings…again.

“Elvis, I'm alright honey, I'm alright” a relieved sigh comes from his end “Okay..good, I love you” you sigh “I love you..”

For the fourth time.

“Elvis, I know you're worried about me but please I just want to sleep Honey” you tiredly spit out. Elvis nods “A-alright alright m’sorry I wanted to make sure you're safe… I love you” you hum “I love you Elvis”

Again.

Before you could say a word, Elvis cuts in “I'm sorry baby, m’sorry I can't stop worrying about you, ya sure you're okay?” His voice is shy and apologetic. “Yes dear, I'm okay I was sleeping, I'm still in the hotel room. I haven't fainted or anything I'm okay” another sigh from Elvis' end “Okay…okay..o-ok that's good” one of the stage managers calls for Elvis “I-I gotta go now honey..” you smile softly “Okay, go have fun” you can feel his hesitation so you reassure him quietly “and don't worry Elvis, I'll be right here in the hotel room. I won't go anywhere” he nods quietly “A-alright…” your smile grows a little “I love you” “...I love you”

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis fans #50s elvis #elvis imagine #elvis presley x reader #soft boy #he's so adorable #i love him

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margowritesthings · 2 years

Text

The Morning After

pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: mature, mentions of sex, foreplay, basically two horny newlyweds

a/n: here’s my first lil Benny snippet! There is a bigger, filthier one on the way but I saw this post by @lul and just had to write this- hope you enjoy! do get in touch to be added to my taglist🖤

tagging: @faye-tale

masterlist | fandoms | rules for requesting

The morning of your first full day as Mrs. Benedict Bridgerton, you awoke to the sun streaming through the window of your bedchambers and the sound of charcoal scratching against paper. Eyes still closed, you stretched your arms out, moaning softly at the sensation of your muscles waking up.

As your eyelashes fluttered open, you found your husband sitting in the corner of the room watching you, the grin on his face unbelievably bright and handsome as he noticed you’d finally awoken.

“Good morning, husband…” you said, sitting up slightly and holding the silky blanket up to your chest with a slight blush. You were still naked from last night, when you and Benedict made love for the very first time, and while you’d certainly crossed the boundary of being nude with each other, you weren’t quite so bold as to just sit there with your breasts out (much to Benedict’s vehement disappointment).

“Good morning, wife.” He responded, his morning voice huskier than you’d ever heard it. It caused your heart to race and a tension to make itself known right in the place Benedict showed you felt oh so good last night.

Your mind wandered to those moments, entangled with your husband so wickedly yet so lovingly at the same time. He’d been so gentle, made you feel things you didn’t know you were even capable of feeling. Thinking about all of it while watching a shirtless Benedict wipe the charcoal off his hands with a cloth caused your core to twitch in a way you’d never felt before.

You knew you wanted him.

“How did you sleep?” You asked, your eyes wandering the floor to find wherever Benedict discarded his shirt in your shared passionate frenzy. Luckily, it was right beside your side of the bed, so you could grab it and wrap it around your body as Benedict told you he slept fantastically with you beside him.

“And you, my love?” He responded, never once taking his eyes off you, his gaze intense and… hot? Yes, you felt very hot under his stare.

Bare feet touched the cold wood of the floor as you slipped out of bed. Benedict’s shirt was huge on you, falling to just underneath your dainty cheeks.

You walked towards his chair, trying to think of something as seductive and sexy as Benedict so effortlessly looked right now, but you weren’t so experienced as that and chickened out, telling him you slept wonderfully.

Your blush felt furious as you got closer to Benedict, fearlessly sitting yourself in his lap and draping your bare legs over the side of his chair. You weren’t wearing anything other than his shirt and could feel a moisture pooling between your legs that you tried not to get onto Ben’s breeches, not yet knowing how insane that would make him.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as Benedict’s hand landed on your back, fingers running up and down your spine.

“So, darling… what shall we do on our first day as man and wife? Promenade? I could take you out for a boat ride or we could have a picnic out in the garden or…” Benedict trailed off as he scanned your features. You tried so hard (in vain) to suppress the cheeky grin that was dominating your lips, but Benedict had noticed and tilted his head.

“And what has you so amused this fine morning, my dear wife?”

You bit down on your bottom lip, fluttering your eyelashes coyly as you tried your absolutely hardest to form the words. You had only been introduced to this world of pleasure and freedom for a few hours, most of which you were asleep for, you were hardly ready to beg for it.

“Nothing, I was merely thinking about how lucky I am to finally be your wife.” Not a complete lie, as you had been thinking that non-stop since the priest had pronounced it so, it just wasn’t at the forefront of your mind right now.

“As lovely as that is, I believe I am the lucky one. Just look at you, so beautiful… my beautiful wife…” Benedict never once looked away from you, the free hand not holding your back reaching up to cup your cheek. His thumb ran across your bottom lip, still wet from when you bit it

The two of you were so close you could smell him, feel his heart beating against you with the same ferocity you felt against your own chest. His thumb was on your lip, but you felt it everywhere, as if there was a rope tightening between your core and his touch. Your lips parted, your breath hot. You were practically panting, wanting so badly to find the courage to ask him to take you to the bed and fuck you until all you could do was scream his name.

Benedict had caught onto your desires. How could he not, with you almost drooling down his hand? You’d be surprised if he didn’t feel the wetness running down your leg onto the fabric of your trousers, despite your best efforts. He leaned closer to you, his thumb now the only thing between your lips and his.

“Tell me what you want, wife…” he whispered, seductive and demanding and quite possibly the sexiest thing you’d ever heard in your life. You ached for him to touch you, to grind against his hand chasing that crescendo you found three times last night.

You couldn’t seem to breathe, nevermind speak, nevermind beg, your tongue peeking out from behind your teeth to make contact with Benedict. He tasted metallic, probably the charcoal residue from the sketch but you didn’t care. Before you even knew what you were doing, you had slipped Benedict’s thumb into your mouth.

You saw his breath catch in his throat, clearly not expecting such an act of you. His lips parted and his eyes darkened, even more so than before as you started with a gentle suction. You weren’t even trying to be seductive, you honestly just needed to feel the pressure of him against your lips, even if just his thumb.

Against your hip, you felt Benedict harden, which he told you meant he wanted you- no, needed you, he had said. Knowing this sent you wild, suckling harder as he slipped a second finger into your mouth. Your hip bucked before you could stop yourself as you felt a jolt of need and borderline electricity travel down to your clit.

Benedict looked down briefly and you noticed the slick patch of wet on his breeches where you were sitting. Your blush turned crimson, but the delight in your husband's eyes at the sight of you reassured you that this was exactly what he wanted.

“My beautiful wife…” he repeated, his free hand snaking down your back and holding your hip, readjusting your stance so that you were riding his thigh, “my beautiful, wanton wife…”

Fingers gripped into your thigh and you felt the friction of Benedict’s breeches against you as he guided your hips up and down. You moaned, muffled by two fingers which then became three.

“Perhaps no promenade, then…” He removed his thumb from your mouth with a ‘pop’, while the two remaining fingers hooked around your bottom lip, opening your jaw enough that Benedict could replace his fingers with his tongue.

He scooped you up into his arms, taking only three long strides to get to the bed and lay you down, his whole length covering the whole of you as he started what would become the entire day's activities.

And the two of you didn’t promenade for three whole weeks.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x you #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #margofiore

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