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stevenose · 25 days

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disarm (18+)

contains: steve x reader; reader with a vagina; reader is called ‘girl’ once; sexual tension; drunk!flirty!steve; lil bit of inspection kink; size kink; teasing; no smut just whorish vibes

author note: i hope you folks like it! i won’t be doing a part 2 of this one, but hope you enjoy the tension :)

Steve’s always saying weird shit to you when he’s drunk.

You know he’s just uninhibited. That if he were sober he’d be so embarrassed. You keep telling yourself that, at least.

The first time he approaches you like this, he asks, “What color underwear you got on?”

You humor him, tipsy yourself. “Take a guess.”

Steve really looks like he’s thinking, dilated pupils staring deep into yours. “Red?”

“Nope.” you can’t stop looking at him, and he isn’t looking away either. “They’re blue, actually.”

“How’d you know that’s my favorite color?” he asks, voice low, leaning forward to rest his palm on your knee.

“Oh, you think I wore them for you?”

“I wish.”

He’s easily distracted and the conversation goes no further. It’s easy to shrug him off. You know he’s a whore, anyway - have to hear about his most recent date every time you see him.

But then it happens again.

Steve stops you in the hallway at the next party, his warm hand curling around your bicep gently. Makes you stop walking to look at him.

“Havin’ fun?” he asks. His t-shirt is cut low - your eyes are drawn to the dark patch of hair on his chest.

“I think so.”

He grins, borderline diabolical. Teeth straight and white, blunt edges that could bite bruises into your skin. “There’s a free bedroom upstairs if you wanna have more.”

“Huh?”

“I said -“ he leans in towards you, until the tip of his nose touches yours, “- there’s a free bedroom upstairs if you want to have more fun.”

He doesn’t stay very serious, however. He giggles, pulls away from you and winks before continuing on his way. You roll your eyes after him, trying to brush off the way he made your stomach flip. He apparently doesn’t fuck without a first date, anyway.

And then it just sort of keeps happening. Sometimes he’d just stare at you, mouth slightly agape, watching you from the other side of the room. Or he’d make sure his palm presses firmly against the small of your back as he “squeezes past” you to grab another drink, despite there being a five foot clearance.

One night, when he’s more drunk than usual - something to do with a bad week at work - he goes a lot farther than he has. He finds you in the corner of the living room, looking at the lines in your own palm.

“Hey,” he says, quite loudly, startling you.

When you look up, he’s extremely close to you. Eyes soft, but staring into yours. He smells like maraschino cherries, no doubt from the strawberry daiquiris he won’t admit he loves. “Hi,” you breathe, trying to look at his eyes, but they keep moving languidly from your eyes to your lips to your chest. Your breasts peak out from the scoop-neck of the baby tee you’re wearing. And, okay, it’s baby blue - you may have worn it just to see what he’d do.

“Can I help you?” you ask.

He nods, nose slanting downwards towards your tits. “Y’never really wear stuff like that.”

You shake your head. “Not really.”

“Why not?”

You grin. “Because pervs like you will stare.”

He scoffs. “That’s ‘stactly why you shouldn’t be wearin’ it here.”

Your eyes narrow at him. Now he’s just being annoying. “Oh, are you mad?”

“A little.” He licks his lips, tongue stained red from the mixer. “You should only be wearin’ somethin’ like that when you’re gonna get fucked.”

Your eyes widen, heart hammering in your chest, enough to feel it in your throat. He’s never been so forward before. And he’s backing you into the wall, trapping you in - very deliciously.

He tilts his head, highlighted hair bobbing over his forehead. “Are you gonna get fucked tonight?”

You swallow hard, blood icy cold. You’re not used to this tango, not with him. “You tell me.”

Steve blinks like he’s also shocked, goes a little slack jawed. He looks down at your tits, then back up. “I think you should get fucked tonight.”

Your hand clenches around your drink, threatening to fall to the floor. You’re weak, sore and needy between the legs.

Perhaps he’s willing to make an exception for the date rule for you.

“Will I?”

“With tits like those?” He nods down again. “Bet you’ve got the sweetest nipples. You like havin’ ‘em bit? Sucked?”

You wonder if he feels the heat radiating off of your face. “Steve,” you say, trying to give him a warning. You can’t breathe, knees beginning to shake. “What kind of friend asks that?”

His jaw clenches, then unclenches. “So you just see me as a friend?”

You bite your cheek. “That’s what you are, aren’t you? Or do you know something I don’t?”

“I -“

You’re both startled by the sound of champagne popping, shrieks and woops breaking you out of whatever you were just entangled in. And Steve, so easily distracted, groans and marches towards the kitchen, shouting, “I told you to take that shit outside!”

You inhale deep, thumping chest caving in, collarbones turning sharp. It’s suddenly so cold without him in front of you. You run a hand through your hair and look around, spotting Robin grinning at you from ear to ear. You roll your eyes at her and move through the living room to get some water and air.

You wonder if he’ll even remember when he’s sober. If he’ll apologize for asking something so insane. But he either doesn’t remember or wants to forget, because when you’re back to return tapes two days later he acts completely normal. It isn’t a bad thing - it’s a bit fun to play with him in such a non-serious way. Though you do find his hands gripping the next tape you rent for a bit too long, shoves your change into your hand and lets his palm linger against yours.

Another get together - you can hardly call it a party when there’s only ten people present - brings you back to his apartment two weeks later. It’s much more low key and he, in turn, drinks much less. He still gets drunk, though - laughing loudly, freckled neck on display. Does things he gives Robin shit for. You laugh beside her when she scoffs at him, throwing a pillow across the way to hit him in the back of the head.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” she says. “Do you want one?”

You tell her you’re okay and she’s off, leaving the couch beside you empty. Which Steve notes. Immediately.

“What’s a place like you doin’ in a girl like this?”

“You invited me,” you remind, the couch dipping as he sits beside you.

“Ohhh. And why’d I do that?”

You hum, trying to suppress a smile. “I don’t know. You must like me.”

He narrows his eyes. “You know I do.”

You’re already getting horny again. “Because I leave big tips for you?”

“And what do you know about big tips, huh?”

You laugh, a little shrill, feeling very much on the spot. Then he grabs your hand, pulling it up against his. You assume he’s comparing the size - a clear flirting tactic - and you watch him with much adoration as he examines them together. His first knuckle is able to come down on your finger tips and he grins. “You’ve got small hands.”

“Maybe yours are just freakishly big.”

“Wanna know what else is?”

Which, truly, in any other situation this would be funny. But it so isn’t. His words are deathly serious to you.

“Well, it can’t be your brain.”

Steve scoffs again. “Oh, funny.”

Out of nowhere, you’re doused with something cold. Robin’s tripped on the rug, spilling her wine on you. You gasp just as she says, “Oh, shit!”

“Rob-in!” Steve sounds more than exasperated with her, but it’s hard to take it seriously when he’s slurring.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry - I got - I tripped - with my big clown feet - oh my god, are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” you promise, despite the huge red stain on your white shirt. It’s still dripping down you, onto your skirt. Drenched. “Uh, let me go to the bathroom.”

“I’ll help,” Steve says, stumbling when he stands, helping you off the couch. You’re certain he won’t be much help but you accept his assistance anyway.

You’ve noticed how Steve gets into these dad modes. Like, one time Robin choked on a lemon seed that was in her water and Steve wouldn’t let her drink without him checking her cup for two months afterwards. And there was the time that Eddie, clumsier than Robin, tripped and scraped his knee, and Steve acted like Eddie was five. So now it’s your turn, ushered into his bathroom while he props you against the counter and scrounges around for a towel.

“It’s okay,” you say, “I’m just wet.”

“I got it,” he assures, running a washcloth under the tap. You’re sure he thinks he’s helping, as much as he can when he’s inebriated, but you’re very certain a wet washcloth won’t help. He swats your hands away when you try to take it from him, and he starts blotting the wine.

His hair in your face smells fruity, like his hairspray. “Steve, I don’t think this is doin’ much.”

His brows are knitted in concentration. “‘s almost out.”

You look down. It is not.

But you let him feel important anyway. Watching as he dabs and dabs and dabs over your sternum. His breath tickling your neck. And now that the shock has worn off, you’re getting turned on again. By his attention, how he’s trying to help, how his big fucking paws are right there. You’re practically begging god to make him do something when his hands start wandering.

Steve brings the towel over your breast, blotting as usual, then slowing. Like it’s clicking what he’s doing. And then he presses a little harder, lingers for a while. His palm touching you more than the cloth. His eyes drift up to yours as he moves towards the other. And instead of blotting, his hand cups it.

You simply let him.

The cold has made your nipples perk up under your bralette. Steve’s thumb swipes over the hardened nub. You both stare at each other, willing the other to do more, but it’s left in a stalemate. Steve throws the washcloth in the sink, lets his hand slide over your heart.

“Heartbeat’s so fast,” he observes softly. “What’s that all about, huh?”

You swallow hard. “Lot of excitement.”

His eyes drift down. “I can tell.”

You take a big breath, looking away from him. “Do you have something I could borrow?”

“Like what?”

“Like, a shirt?”

Steve blinks, looking sad. “Oh. Yeah, yeah, prob’ly.”

As you walk behind him to his room, you decide you’ll throw him a bone whenever the opportunity arises. You certainly can’t have him thinking you don’t like his attention. You watch him clumsily rifle through his closet before he finds a black sweater that’ll match your skirt well enough.

It makes you dizzy how it smells like him, even freshly laundered. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.” Steve simply stands in front of you, hands on his hips, lips pulled in tight. Looking at you like he’s thinking really hard.

You bite your lip, heartbeat fastening again. You turn from him to place the shirt on his bed, which seems to snap him out of whatever stupor he’s in. He clears his throat and turns to leave, but you call after him.

“Steve?”

He turns, brows furrowed. “Yeah?”

You inhale deep before slowly peeling your shirt off of you. Taking your time, letting it catch on the curve of your breasts. You let it slip to his floor and you continue watching him. Watching his chest rise and fall rapidly, his nostrils flaring, chestnut eyes staring right at your bra-clad chest. You’re so hot you’re beginning to sweat - and then you reach behind you to unclasp your wet bralette.

Steve’s jaw drops comically slow as it joins your shirt on the floor. You can’t help but to smile.

“What do you think?” you ask quietly.

He shakes his head slowly. “Think you’ve been holdin’ out on me.”

You press your tits together with your arms as you shrug at him, turning around to fetch the sweater he’s given you. You figure it’ll be enough for him to know you’re wearing his shirt, chest bare underneath, but then he says, “Your skirt is wet, too.”

You don’t turn to look at him as you grab the fabric, leaning forward for it. “Don’t suppose you have one for me to borrow?”

You didn’t even hear him walking up behind you. You’re suddenly pressed into the bed, his hand pushing down on the space between your shoulder blades to keep you against the mattress. Your breath hitches, stomach flipping. You feel how hard he is against your ass, and he grinds once before sliding down to kneel behind you.

“What are you doing?” you breathe.

“Checkin’ out the damage.” His hands push your skirt up, up, up, until it rests above your ass. You feel his breath fanning across the back of your thighs. “Y’know,” he continues casually, “since you said you’re wet.”

Your breaths turn shallow. Steve’s hands, warm and soft, run up the backs of your thighs slowly. You part them for him. Heat rushes to your face when he laughs behind you, but he doesn’t say anything. Must just be overjoyed that you’re letting him do this.

His hands move to your hips, squeezing them slightly before tucking his fingers under the waistband of your underwear. You’re so dizzy it almost makes you sick - but you wait patiently as he slowly pulls them down.

“Oh, you weren’t kidding,” he observes quietly. Lets your underwear hang around your knees. “All this for me?”

“Yes,” you whine. “Been - you’ve been working me up for weeks.”

“I know.”

You want to call him a bastard, but you’re stunned into silence when he parts your folds. The sound it makes is embarrassing to you, but Steve coos at it. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy. Knew you would.”

You exhale shakily. “Steve….”

“Fucked my fist to it,” he admits. “But I didn’t think it’d be so tiny.”

And then one of his fingers presses against your hole. Just enough. You short circuit, electric running through you, knees going weak. Steve’s free hand steadies them, fingers splayed out along your skin.

“Can you even get any fingers in here?” he mumbles. Circles your little hole, your eyes crossing. “Know your hands are so tiny, too.”

“No,” you force yourself to say. “Not really.”

He sounds contemplative. “Just one of mine would split you in two.”

His finger trails down, resting at your swollen clit for a few short moments before he pulls away, yanking your underwear back up.

You feel more than upset. Devastated that he’s pulled away. You want to grab him, cunt hurting from the teasing with no relief.

“Steve-“

“You know I don’t fuck without a date first,” he grins. As if he didn’t just ruin your life with whatever that was. Like he didn’t just turn you into his cock-dumb whore. Jesus Christ, if he told you to spend the rest of the night topless, you would. “So here’s what’s gonna happen, okay?”

Then he’s back, leaning over you, pushing you into his bed. His cock really straining against his jeans while he presses into your ass. He puts his lips right up against your ear. “You’re gonna get dressed ‘nd we’re gonna party, ‘kay? Then tomorrow I’m gonna pick you up and take you for breakfast.” He ruts himself into you and you moan. “Sorry, sweetheart. ‘m usually a dinner guy but I can’t wait that long to have you. How’s nine sound?”

“You… there’s n-no way you’re going to be up at nine.”

He scoffs. “‘ve got an alarm clock.”

You press your ass back into him. “You’ll forget.”

“Haven’t forgotten you so far.” Grinds against you again.

“You remember when you’re sober?”

“Honey. You’re all I’ve been able to think about.”

Then he’s off of you, leaving your tits pressed to his mattress, overwhelmed. He walks towards his desk while you desperately try to stand - your legs are still shaking. Your fingers curl around his sweater just as he comes back, arm marked up with a pen.

BREAKFAST AT 9 WITH HOTTIE :)

“See? Won’t forget.”

You’re still not so sure - you’ll have to wait and see. As you finally start pulling his sweater on, he grabs your bra, tucking it into his back pocket. “I’ll wash it for you,” he says, patting it.

“Yeah? After you cum in it?”

Steve smiles deviously. “You wanna watch me do it?”

#steve harrington smut #steve x reader #stevenose writes #ns/fw #robin tripped on purpose. btw

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luveline · 27 days

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also didn’t realise that amanda was their little baby but here’s an idea if ur up for it. amanda inherits like spencer’s smartness i guess and so when she starts spewing facts about the random-est stuff spencer’s overjoyed and then bombshells just staring at them with adoration in her eyes?? idk something really fluffy

“Shoes?” Amanda asks.

“Yeah, babe.”

“No thanks.”

You hold Amanda’s socked feet in your hands. “You need shoes to keep your feet warm.”

“I’ll have socks.”

You look past her tiny face to her father for some assistance. Spencer scratches his neck, looking absolutely exhausted, though he’s dressed sharply. You’d spent a few minutes finger curling his hair this morning before it dried, and he’s brushed them out gently, giving him a windblown look. You pretend to take a photo of him. He rolls his eyes.

“Amy,” he says lovingly, baby-voice in play as he leans over the back of the couch, “you know why you have to wear shoes?”

“Why?”

“Because growing up, your feet are very small, and very fragile. They need time to grow in proper structures, and they can’t do that if you don’t wear shoes when you’re walking a lot.” He gives her shoulder a rub. “Don’t you wanna match me and mommy?”

“You wear shoes… different. Mom has heels,” she insists.

“What if I wear flats?” you ask, eager to leave the house before afternoon.

She shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest with a Spencer style pout.

Spencer sits down next to her with a sigh. You’re both aware of how smart she is for her age, and while it can be interesting, it’s also made some stuff so, so hard. Like explaining shoes. “I’m not want to wear them. It’s good for my skin to breathe.” All her r’s sound soft, like w’s.

You rub your eyes. Spencer sucks in an excited breath. “Yes! Skin can’t really breathe, but it’s good to have it uncovered sometimes to help your circulation and your pores.”

“‘Xactly,” Amy says.

“And, you know, shoes that don’t fit right force your feet into narrow positions, which can cause a whole bunch of problems.”

“No shoes,” Amy says.

“But…” Spencer backtracks, thumbing under her eyelashes gently. “If you don’t wear your shoes, we can’t go out to the store for groceries and we can’t go to the bakery on the way home. Which means you won’t get your sugar donuts, mommy won’t get her slice of cake, and that’s gonna make me so sad.”

“Why?”

“Because I love when your mom is happy. It makes me happy when she’s happy. She doesn’t look very happy now, does she?”

In all honesty, you’re much too pretty to be sitting on the floor, tights to the carpeting and your cute black dress bunching up your thighs. You refuse to close yourself into the ‘mom’ box some may expect of you, dressing as you had before you became a mom, but you’ve allowed Amanda the opportunity to choose your necklace; a gold pendant ring with green and pink sapphires. It’s gorgeous, colourful, and doesn’t even slightly go with your outfit. Spencer reaches for it now, tugging it straight carefully against your neck.

You frown deeply, pulling your widest, softest doe eyes. “Please, lovely girl, put your shoes on. Or I’m gonna have to be strict, and I hate being strict.”

“Don’t fw-own, mommy,” she says, listing into Spencer’s side, “you’ll get wrinkles. Worse wrinkles, ‘cos your muscles remember.”

And again, all her r’s are w’s, her pronunciation lispy and sweet despite her amazing expertise. Spencer laughs and takes her face into two hands, kissing “Wow, smarty pants,” into her crown. “You’re so smart! I can’t believe it!”

You feel your annoyance softening. Fine, she’s a smarty pants, and you secretly love it so so much. You’ll just have to carry her to the car. Or her genius dad can carry her. Actually, that could be great, Spencer’s never looked so handsome as he does carrying around your little baby, especially now he’s started working out every now and then.

“Better role your sleeves up, Spence,” you say, standing up off of your knees. “I’m keeping my heels on. Daddy’s gonna carry you, and you’re gonna get wonky feet.”

“That’s fine,” Spencer says to her in a whisper, “I’ll carry you forever if you want me to, even if you do get all wonky, bubby.”

Amy preens as she wraps her arms around him and he picks her up. He takes her shoes from your hand without her seeing.

“Isn’t she amazing?” he mouths, and he means it, his eyes wide with it.

“She’s gonna protest socks, next, Spencer Reid, and then what are you gonna do?” you ask. You aren’t half as concerned as you’re pretending to be. Amy’s a baby. She’ll learn how important shoes are soon enough.

“I’m gonna hold her in my coat, like this,” he says, pulling his coat over her legs.

“Like that,” you say to yourself, grinning. “Okay, you two do what you want. Can we go now? We really need to get some groceries.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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makwebba · 2 months

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better than a podium l LN4

summary: lando could've won his first race in silverstone but he ended up not finishing. pairing: lando x gf!reader warnings: mentions of lando crashing and swearing. note: my first formula 1 fan fiction! not my first time writing fan fictions but it has been a couple of years since i wrote something and lately my love for writing is slowly coming back. the pictures are from pinterest and idk who the owners are so if you guys know the owner or if you are the owner, please lemme know :( also no hate on checo but it just kinda make sense cause he's in a red bull idk. dont come for me. anyways, i hope you guys enjoy it!

- lando was leading the race in silverstone, his home race. you could've not been more prouder for your boyfriend, you were certain he was gonna win the race but not until checo hit the rear tyre of lando's car which cause him to spun out and hit the barrier. your heart sank, everything went numb and it felt like the world just stopped. it was a bad crash, you waited for his voice to come through the mclaren headset that's snugged onto your ear. "lando, are you okay, mate?" randy asked through the radio. you can hear him grunt and groan in agony, breaking your heart even further. you hated seeing him like this every time you come and watch him race. what felt like ages, the medical car finally showed up to retrieve him back to the garage. lando didn't even bother making any eye contact with anybody once he got to the garage, not even you. he just went straight back to his driver's room, hearing the door slam behind you. you sighed as you rubbed your face with your hands in frustration. you walked over to where he locked himself in, you didn't even have to see him to feel the tension that was building in the air as you knocked on the door. "lan...?" your voice muffled against the wooden barrier between you and lando. lando's eyes closed shut when he heard your voice behind the door, he always loved how soft spoken you were to him. he hasn't responded back to you as he stayed where he was sat before deciding opening the door for you. there he is. what he once was; a ray of sunlight beaming through the morning sun to becoming the loud rumbling sound of thunder at night. you furrowed your brows as you quickly but gently swift his hand up against yours while you closed the door behind you. "hey..." you whispered as you brought your hand up to his face, searching for his eyes. lando was not the type to cry but boy, he was just on the verge of losing it. you brought him into a tight embrace, your face nuzzled on the crook of his neck and his arms wrapping around your back. he held you tight as you started to hear him sniffle which ached your heart painfully. you had to fight your tears back because he hated seeing you be so empathetic for him whenever he had a bad race. "i was close... so fucking close..." he mumbled, his voice getting choked up. "i know, my love. i know." you slowly pulled away from him as he quickly wiped the tears building up in his eyes with the palm of his hand before it could stream down his face. you rubbed his arms for comfort as you stood before him, you finally managed to see his eyes. oh so beautiful but it was filled with so much anger and pain. "you did so well out there. and i know your fans wanted you to win as much as you do. we all did. but sometimes things just doesn't go our way..." you said, running your fingers through the side of his head, intertwining with his curls. "could never win a race, huh?" he muttered, moving your hand away from him. "i don't know why i got into this sport in the first place. not even good at it." it broke your heart to hear him talk so low about himself. you tilted your head slightly to the side as your brows furrowed when he moved your hand away from him, stopping you from running your fingers through his hair. you didn't let him get away from it when you placed both of your hands on his face, staring directly into his eyes. "you don't have to be a race winner to be a great driver. you are enough." lando looked back into your eyes which eased him a little. he took a deep breath in when his hand found a place down on your lower back, a soft smile appeared on his face which made you smile back at him.

it was that contagious. "in everyone's eyes you're a winner. to me you're a champion." a wave of warmth cruised all over lando's body when you said those words to him. it definitely hit a nerve in his system but in a good way. it didn't take long until lando pulled you in closer to him and placed his lips against yours, gentle and passionate. "i wouldn't know what i would've done if you weren't here..." he said. landonorris and ynusername

liked by mclaren, user1, user2 and 1,233,754 others landonorris shoulda woulda coulda, right? but i’ve got something better than a podium.

the end x

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #lando norris smau #lando norris imagines #lando norris imagine #makwebba fan fictions

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eveningepiphany · 10 months

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innocent | H.S oneshot

my masterlist

summary: while on the couch, harry ends up with innocent y/n on his lap, and she gets unexpectedly very worked up over his thigh being under her, and he does something about it.

warnings: SMUT! thigh riding, dirty talk, handjob (m receiving), best friend! harry, and a whole lot of praise kink.

requested by @shqtteredcrystql1

a/n: i absolutely love this request. thank you so much to the lovely user above who pmed me with it. <3

———

You shake your head at yourself.

You had not thought any of this would lead to you feeling so suddenly.. needy. But it has?

You were sitting in the lounge room of the beach house you were staying in, watching a movie with Harry while both parts of your family had gone out for the evening.

You and Harry had opted to stay back. The crowded bars being not your vibe for the night, and wanting to just chill out at the house for a while.

The movie was not long beginning in the background on the TV, with bags of half eaten snacks resting on the wooden coffee table— not that you could see any of it, as it was to the back of you.

It started when Harry and you fought over the blanket on the couch.

Pulling it off eachother just to be difficult, and roughhousing until he proposed a quick solution when your fingers started prodding his rib cage as pay back.

“C’mere— c’mere!” He rushed out, hands up in defeat as you technically won the mini physical brawl. Even though you know if he really wanted to win, he would a hundred times over, given his strength.

You went still and frowned as he didn’t follow up with a verbal explanation, and just held hands out for you to come to.

“Why?” You said, slightly amused.

“Because.” He stated.

So you moved forward to him, his hands coming in contact with your hips, and seizing you forward.

Bringing you seated in his lap.

“I can’t actually watch the movie, H.” You flush at your positioning. His hands still bracketing your waist like it’s nothing.

Which you’re confused why you’re reacting like this.

This has never happened to you with anyone else. Only ever with Harry.

And it’s not the first time it’s happened with him. You get big feelings often when he’s near you. They come out of nowhere, when he touches you gently during conversation, or when he flashes you a dimple in his smile.

And this warm feeling will swell in your chest, bubble down into your stomach… and sometimes further. It will simmer down in between your legs.

Leaving you with this feeling of being hot and bothered, in a completely foreign way.

Usually it’s only faint. A quick, fleeting feeling for you. However you’ve never had yourself situated on his lap.

His strong and muscly thigh straight underneath you— mostly bare, his shorts riding up to leave the hair dusted skin visible. His tiger tattoo hidden under you.

“Sorry, want to turn around?” He asks with a teasing lilt in his voice.

Your head snaps up from where you were looking at where your body met his— your pupils blown out a little.

Your eyes lock with his, and your reminded that this is your harry.

Your favourite person. Your best friend. Who has pretty green eyes, paired chocolatey brown curls that fall over them, and frame his gorgeous face.

Who smiles at you like this all the time, like you’re also his favourite person.

“Well i did want to watch 10 things I hate about you, instead of listening to it.” Your hands are resting on his shoulders, and he lets out a chuckle at your gentle quip.

“Alright, darling, let’s turn you around.” He laughs at you, rotating your body himself— handling you so that your facing the screen, your back plastered to the hard wall of his chest.

The new position evokes a flutter from your core, one completely unexpected to you.

And you’re hyperaware that there’s very little separating his leg from the sudden heat between yours, just a thin pair of sleep shorts.

“Better?” He asks casually into your ear, pulling the blanket to cover your laps.

“Yea, thank you.” You breathe out, sounding a little airy.

Your eyes find the screen, but your wholly distracted by his body.

His thumb circling your hip, the gentle breath from his nose hitting the back of your neck, and again, his thigh underneath you.

Your heart is stuttering.

You’re so— confused?

He’s your best friend. You know that, and you’re not sure why you’re feeling like this. If it’s normal?

Another concern of if he can feel it. Feel you.

The heat radiating from you.

You zone out a little, eyes locked on the movie screen. Eventually your breathing evening out for the most part, as you adjust to what was happening.

Focusing momentarily on the comfort of your surroundings. Harry practically enveloping you, the feeling of the couch pillows warm and soft around you.

The gentle hum of the waves crashing from the nearby ocean, sounding through the cracked open window.

Which the breeze being carried through it is just the right temperature, and just strong enough to have the candle flames flickering on top of he TV cabinet.

There’s a warm glow cast across the room from the array of candles, and salt lamp turned on in the corner.

Everything about it was homely, and comforting. And you tapped into the euphoric amount of bliss that surrounded you.

After a few minutes, Harry moved, shuffling his hips back to prop himself up.

His thigh underneath you dragging your thin sleep shorts along your centre, the pressure of his muscles rippling as he adjusted with your weight atop him causing an unbelievably pleasurable feeling to strike through you.

A whine slips past your lips before you can even stop it. The desperate sound filling the room, and it’s too late to take it back. Because you know he’s heard it with the way he stills immediately.

Embarrassment starts to flicker through you hardly a second later.

“Y/N?” He seems to almost whisper from behind you.

“God— sorry— I don’t know… I don’t know why that happened.”

He laughs, the sound golden and dipped in honey as it enters your ears, “Did you just moan?”

“No!” Your skin is flaming as you deny quickly.

He pushes his leg up to press into you again, and you purse your lips together as you try so hard not to let a sound out, or roll your hips instinctively against him.

You fail with the latter of those two things, your body pushing into his leg before you can even try to stop it.

“Hm, what’s gotten you all worked up, darling?” He let’s his hands run up along the side of your rib cage, and is admittedly very curious to what your feeling right now.

He was surprised at first, but fuck, your innocent little whimper has him feeling like he’s got a point to prove.

And he wants so badly to have you come undone under his touch.

“I— fuck…” you lean your head back into his shoulder, unable to form words.

His eyes skate down the profile of your gorgeous face, and further along your arched body.

“Want me to do something about the heat between those legs of yours, baby? Can feel how hot and bothered you are.”

“Harry…” you sigh out as you begin to give into the situation, “please.”

“Alright lovely, since you’re rubbing yourself all over my leg, keep going.”

You frown a little— well it feels good as far as your concerned now. But your unsure how to just continue.

“Here,” he turns you around again, and for a second smiles at your flushed and flustered face.

All the sudden the eye contact has you tingling again, his face enough to have you a mess in his hands.

His hands guide yours to rest on his shoulders, and then his own slide back down to your hips.

“Now, just keep doing what you were before hm, rub yourself on my thigh okay?”

He watches as you experiment with the movement, rolling forward on with your body and moaning at the sensation that it evokes in you.

“Oh.“ you grind against him again, harder this time.

“Oh—“

You clench, and he pushes his leg up into you with a moan from himself as he feels your cunt clamping around nothing.

“Fuck, y’gonna tell me why you’re so wet?” He grabs the back of your neck so you’re looking at him.

“I don’t know…” you whine, humping along his thigh. The thin fabric of your shorts going damp from your arousal.

“Your thighs. Your hands. You.” You speculate aloud, watching his pupils blow out with desire.

“My thigh under your cunt get you all worked up?”

“Yes— yes!” You groan out, jaw falling lax as your clit gets caught just right between the shorts and his thigh.

“Baby, take the shorts off. Wanna feel y’soak onto my leg.”

You hardly hear him, still pushing onto him until he physically has to lift you up.

He chuckles as you whine at the absence of contact.

“Tell me, Y/N, Is this okay?” He confirms, pulling your leg from in between his, so now you’re laying practically bridal style in his arms.

“Please. Take them off.” You nod eagerly, back arching in his hold.

He laughs, hair falling again across his brow.

“Let me savour this okay. Look too pretty for your own good.” He mumbles, leaning down to let his lips meet the skin of your neck.

You groan as he sucks the skin into his mouth, and his hand skates up the hem of your shirt, running between the valley of your braless breasts.

“If you need to stop,” he licks over the skin on your neck he was just abusing with his teeth, “let me know, love.”

“I won’t, please keep going…”

You hiss as his hand wraps around your tit, letting his finger tweak the peak of your nipple before running it back down, past your belly button to settle between your still covered pussy.

“Where were we,” he hums gently, rubbing you over your soaked through shorts.

“Off, Harry, please.” Your sentences weren’t properly formed, and you scraped your nails down the muscle of his tattooed bicep.

“God, listen to you. Can you hear how whiney your pretty voice sounds?”

He says it in such a way it sounds like a compliment. The typical connotation of whiney being negative. But he says it like you’re an angel for it.

He peels your shorts down your legs, and audibly groans at the sight of your naked cunt in front of him.

“I should’ve known you didn’t even have a pair of panties on.” He gently taps over your bare clit, and the light touch still has you squirming.

He rubs you a little, allowing the pads of his fingers to tease your entrance. Not before man handling you back on top of his thigh.

Your blindsided by how amazing everything feels.

“Alright darling, use me. Grind that wet little cunt on my thigh to get off.” His words have you fluttering around nothing, and him feeling your bare entrance clenching atop his skin makes his already hard cock twitch beneath the waistband of his shorts.

His hand comes down to palm over himself, delivering a gentle squeeze to try and relieve some of the pressure down there.

You pant as you resume a relatively fast pace, aided by the fact your arousal is dampening his leg. Making it easier to slide yourself on.

“Mmm, god. It feels so good!” You moan out, hands coming to his shoulders to brace yourself.

“So does your pussy on my leg, baby. You’re so wet for me. Who would have thought my little Y/N would get so worked up over sitting on my thigh of all things.” He praises, hands coming to cup the swell of your ass

“No one’s ever— fuck— made me feel like this.” You cry, the stimulation along your clit euphoric.

“Ever, huh?”

You nod, “Ever.”

He could just moan at the thought. That his sweet thing is completely foreign to sexual experiences with other people. That you got all wet on his thigh and had no idea why.

The idea that you weren’t sure why you were trying so hard not to push your pussy onto him. And that you’re probably so sensitive down there, so reactive.

That last one has him struggling not to place you on that coffee table and fuck your hole with his tongue.

He only held back because the sight of your riding his thigh was indescribably hot.

“Good girl f’me, let me help you, make y’come all on my thigh.” He hummed, pushing his leg up to add some more pressure on your clit.

“Harry!” Your pretty voice moaned out as his hands came to guide your hips, to push them faster and harder against his skin.

The control he was taking over you was enough to make you almost drip. Because even if he was so gentle about it, it was insane.

He pushed your bucking hips down, and his leg up, making a delicious pressure that had an unfathomable heat simmer between your legs.

“I wanna come on your leg, Harry, please…” you’re pleading him, hips messily fucking over his skin.

“Yea, baby? My perfect little slut.” He tests out the nickname, watching as your whole body reacts with a quiver at his dirty mouth.

“Oh, you really do like it dirty…” he realises out loud, smirking as you moan.

“Look down at your cunt riding my leg, humping all over it.” He gently laces his hand in your hair, tilting your head down, “How about when you’re done, I get you on your knees and make you clean it up?”

Your mouth goes slack, and it’s baffling to hear such words coming from him.

Yet he could ask you to do anything at this point and you’re convinced you wouldn’t even hesitate before doing it.

“I will, I will!” You nod, thighs quivering on each side of his own.

“Cmon pretty, fuck,” he bucks into his hand that was stroking over his fabric-clad cock, “wanna watch you come. Hear you cry out my name.”

Your clit was pulsing along his now drenched tattoo, and you could feel your muscles tightening in your stomach.

The simmering feeling in your core that you had originally started with has turned into a pot that was about to boil over.

“Harry, ohmygod—“ you whined, falling further into his chest, hands coming up to intertwine with his hair.

He pushed his thigh up against you, and the pressure finally peaked, and you teetered on the brink of orgasm.

You were moaning into his ear, and he could feel your pussy clenching around nothing, waiting for that final little nudge.

“Good fucking girl, let it all go f’me.” He growls into your ear, accent husky, and the words zip straight to where you needed it.

You let out a loud moan of his name, nails dragging down along his shoulders as you messily grind through the pleasure.

He is groaning at the sight. Just as fucking beautiful as he imagined.

Your back arched, and he could feel your cunt pulsating around his leg. It was filthy, and he loved every damn second of it.

“Oh, god— harry, please!” You whimpered, your core jutting against him still, but now with slower more irratic movements.

“That’s it, ride it out on me love. Fuck.” He curses as you absentmindedly drag your lips down the column of his neck.

You slowly come to a stop, the stimulation too much for you now. And your panting as you pull back to look at Harry, and the mess you made atop his thigh.

You lock eyes with him, his hair is messy, and cheeks are flushed. You smile at him, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his also smiling lips.

You glance down between your legs, spotting immediately the glistening skin of Harry’s leg, and how his finger reaches to get a sample and bring it to his lips.

Watching, he sucks his finger into his mouth, humming at the taste of you on his tongue.

“Taste like a dream, my darling.”

He gathers some more on the same finger, bringing it up to your own lips, letting you suck on them.

“Mm, good isn’t it? Look so good with your mouth wrapped ‘round m’fingers.” He praises, eyes darkening at the sight of your lips sucking his long digits.

You slide off them, taking in his beautiful appearance again. How the warm glow of the lounge room light is casting over his tan skin.

You’re still a little muddled about everything that just occurred. And that the little crush that’s always festered in your head when it comes it Harry has just led you here.

Him being the first person to ever see your pussy, and make you come. On his thigh of all places.

“Thank you…” you flush, a little shyness coming out.

“Don’t get shy with me baby, just watched y’come on my thigh. No room for that.” He smiles, pulling you into his chest.

“Now,” he begins again, stroking the small of your back, “let’s go get cleaned up before everyone suddenly comes home to you still half-naked on my lap.”

You laugh a little as he pecks your cheek, “then we can come back to the couch, and rewind 10 things I hate about you and share some ice cream, m’kay?”

“And uhm, what about you?” You gesture to the tent in his shorts.

“Worry about that another time, alright lovely. Not tonight, that was all for you.” He confirms.

“It’ll just… go away?” You frown, confused— and a little embarrassed you didn’t know what would happen with it.

“Should mostly. Might still have a semi, since all I’m gonna be able to think about is what y’taste like. But again, you can worry about me another day.”

You shake your head, “i want to worry about you now though…”

He blinks slowly, “Fuck, well if you keep bloody begging me to get y’hands on my cock, I’m not gonna be strong enough to tell ya no.”

“Never, uh, done this before. As long as that doesn’t put you off.” You shrug, watching his green eyes flick between your hand and his erection.

“Don’t stress, darling. I have been pretty much about to come at the sight of you, I don’t think it’s gonna take much.”

“And for the record,” he rests a hand on your hip, “nothing could put my off of you. Especially when it comes to you touching me.”

You nod, slowly. Still a little unsure as you reach down to pull the waistband of his shorts from his laurel-adorning hips.

He lifts his hips so you can pull them down, far enough that his cock springs out of them.

Your lips parted at the sight, his flushed tip, with beads of precum seeping out, blotting along down his shaft.

His cock was as gorgeous as you’d imagined. Because of course a pretty boy like him would have such a nice cock.

Not that you have much to judge off, but if the smooth skin and the sudden overproduction of saliva in your mouth was any inkling… you would say he was perfect.

Your hand reached to stroke along him, noticing the lack of lubrication.

You put to use the gathering pool of spit in your mouth, and you pursed your lips to let some of it drop down onto his tip.

He had a whole body reaction as he felt your warm spit slip down the head of his cock. A moan sounded from him, and he sounded like an angel.

“Fuckkk, already spitting on my cock. Little minx y’are.” His eyes went half lidded, and he fought to keep them open. Just to watch your all too curious expression and your hands glide over his cock.

“Faster?” You asked, looking for advice.

“Squeeze it, baby. Then stroke it.” He directed, struggling to form the words.

Then struggling even more not to cry out as you did just as he asked.

“Y/N.” He hissed, bucking his hips up as you started stroking his cock with a moderate pace.

“You look very pretty.” You meekly stated, admiring the way his face has flushed and lips have parted all from your touch.

You speed up your hands, watching intensely as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth in attempt to control himself.

“My god, your hands…” He moans, arm coming to drape over his forehead as he rolled his hips into your warm hand.

You took liberty to swipe your thumb over his tip, and your eyebrows raising as his whole body shudders.

“To know you’re fucking my cock with your spit and your hand.” He sighs out, heat building in his stomach.

“Can I touch here too?” Your hand gently ghosts over where his balls are, and you’re not sure if that’s somewhere he wants you to touch.

“Fuck yes, baby. Ohhh god, I’m gonna come so fast.” He is moaning suddenly without care as you massage him attentively.

Dragging your hands back up to his cock, you continue to stroke and rub along him.

“Want to see you finish too…” you smile, also excited to see the way his body reacts when he comes.

“Cant wait to paint your hand in my fuckin’ come.” He pants, hand gripping the couch cushion near his head.

He can probably feel you getting wet on him again. Seeing him like this has you a mess.

“Fuck— any faster and I’m gonna come on your hand Y/N.” He moans, now his thighs being the ones trembling.

You fuck his cock with your fist faster, in awe of the way he moans out as his orgasm hits him.

Ropes of his warm come spurting out his tip, spilling down your hand as you keep up the pace.

Waiting until he whines with the overstimulation.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He shakes his head, blissed out from his orgasm.

Hazily taking in the way you lick a stripe up your thumb, where his come had landed.

You enjoyed the flavour of it, salty and overall pleasant on your tastebuds.

“Can I?” You leant down, wanting more off his cock.

“God, love— wanting to clean the come off my damn cock it tasted that good.” He praises you, letting your mouth gently slide over his softening dick.

You make quick work of the mess, and he remarks shortly, “fuck, gonna have to spend some more time later with your mouth wrapped around me. You’re like an angel.”

Once you’re done, you pull his shorts back over him and watch him smile, dragging you in for another soft kiss— regardless of whether his dick was just in your mouth.

“Alright pretty, let’s get cleaned up before you start grinding anymore on my thigh. Can feel you already getting wet again.”

“Yes, Harry.” You whisper, letting him pick you up and carry you to the bathroom.

———

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #fanfiction #best friend!harry #fwb harry #he’s so fine #fbh #frat boy harry #harry styles smutshot #smut #thigh riding

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pervertedreams · 3 months

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gasp! even MORE farleigh hc’s bc now i’m having writers block and it’s easier to do lil short scenarios <3

asks are open and encouraged feedback is even more encouraging!!

general sexual themes. minors dni obviously

- close talker. close talker. CLOSE TALKER!!! no kinda of personal space really, constantly invading your personal bubble. this goes hand in hand with my crouching and bending over to look at you allegations. sour cigarette breath always flooding your nostrils, sometimes almost so close your noses clunk together. he wants to watch you slowly lean back as he stalks closer to you, wants to watch your eyes strain to look up and maintain eye contact with him. he’s grabbing your hands without warning, pinching your cheeks and sides, sometimes placing his large hands on your hips and swiveling you around for whatever dramatic statement he’s making. like i said fave grabbing and again just overall being very invasive when holding conversation. not that you’re necessarily complaining.

- loves being naked, likes to air himself out. i think he especially enjoys skinny dipping. i don’t have any proof to back this up, it’s comin from the heart. he loves being bare in the water, he’s nearly bare anyways. the only thing holding him back is a unnecessarily expensive pair of swim trunks. and when he takes them off he throws the soiled material at your feet, because he’s a smart ass. we know this !

- i do feel as though he is naturally very quick witted and snarky, but i also believe it’s a defense mechanism. i feel as though it doesn’t take much to soften him even though i believe he’s stubborn, i feel like he’s actually very emotional. but maybe he believes being overly emotional gets you nowhere.

- homeboy loves eating box !! LMAO but no i think he loves giving head, just enjoys getting on his knees and pleasuring somebody. loves that intoxicating musky scent of whoever he’s giving head too, loves having his curls gripped and being manhandled and pushed around. mainly sexually. and he’s looking up at you with swollen heavy lips and glossy brown eyes, eager to make you cum. sometimes that smug, asshole-ish energy is still heavily laced throughout whatever sex he’s having, esp if he’s feeling more dominant. same quick yet dry comments, “now cmon baby you can do better than that.”

- ass slapper IDC. playful or not if you walk by or if it’s in his face at any given moment, he’s taking his opportunity every. time. you’ve gotten tired of swatting him away, there’s usually no winning with farleigh. some things are just set in stone. when you get up, when you walk by, if you’re bent over, skirt on, jeans, underwear, it doesn’t matter. if it’s in his line of vision he’s going for it.

- he snores, not loud or annoying but not necessarily quietly. and he’s a stiff sleeper, however he fell asleep he’s waking up the exact same way. despite the scene with him and oliver i believe he’s a somewhat heavy sleeper. he’s not a dead body but he doesn’t sleep like a fairy either. and def jerks off to playgirl to fall asleep if he’s having a tough time.

- speaking of playgirl he strikes me as the type to have a lil magazine collection, porn and fashion specifically. and yes he has both playboy and playgirl, he’s doesn’t discriminate!

- usually forgets to wrap his hair up at night or just straight up wraps it wrong. but to be fair there’s no one their to teach him any better.

- love language is touch and gift giving idk. like he always has his hands on you one way or another, he’s like a magnet. ringed pinky resting on your outer thigh, subconscious hair stroking, arms always somehow draped around your shoulders, hands always resting on your lower hips. sometimes when you’re too far away when he’s talking he’ll pull you by your belt, face touching, hand holding. he just needs skin to skin, or he’ll decay

- his go to response is always a condescending hum, he hums a lot LOL. with like this smugness in his nod and tone.

- feet swinger

- it’s pierced and has a slight curve, and ALWAYS groomed :)

#feedback is always hot #i liked this one hehe #also ur thoughts would be cool to we can bounce off each other #my work┊ ˚➶ ｡˚#meanie rich bf ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪#farleigh start headcanon #saltburn farleigh #farleigh catton #farleigh x reader #farleigh saltburn #farleigh smut #farleigh start #saltburn smut #saltburn felix #saltburn #felix catton x reader #felix catton

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gorgonwrites · 5 months

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neuvillette headcanons

NSFW below the cut! minors DNI. 18+

author's note: ME AND BESTIE BACK AT IT AGAIN! oh gods, this beautiful dragon man. he deserves everything and then even more. my best friend and i are probably going to do more headcanons for more genshin characters, so expect those from me soon. enjoy! <3

So shy and timid when it comes to showing affection for another person. He’s always learning, but love is a foreign feeling to him.

We already know it, but the man is the most respectful damn gentleman you’d ever find. Always opens doors for his partner, has his hand on the small of their back to guide them, and he offers his arm when out walking. He speaks gently, and is an excellent listener.

Has a serious shrimp allergy. He doesn’t feel like he’s missing much, though.

He hates being the center of attention, and it can even cause some mild anxiety if he’s caught off guard. Sure, he’s the Iudex and Sovereign of Fontaine, but if he’s not in the courtroom don’t expect him to draw attention to himself.

Always sneezes in threes– no more, no less. He has a dedicated handkerchief he carries with him everywhere to cover his mouth, and is always as quiet as possible as to not draw attention to it. If he’s in court and it happens, the entire audience blesses him. He used to ignore it, but he’s grown quite fond of the gesture and takes it as a small human act of kindness. As a result, if he’s ever in earshot when someone else sneezes he’s the first one to give them a blessing. He never skips over an opportunity to sow the seeds of kindness wherever he goes.

He’s learning how to cook. Not horrible at it, but he loves the idea of food inspiring community. He dreams of gathering the people he cares about most and cooking them all a yummy meal one day.

Can sing! And has such a pretty voice. He also has an affinity for most musical instruments he picks up. He’s quite used to the melusines asking him to sing them to sleep.

Hardly ever gets sick (he does get stress fevers quite easily), but is used to caring for himself if he needs to. The first time he lets his partner care for him when he’s ill, he almost chokes on the vulnerability that starts to creep out of his bones.

Loves his hair being brushed or played with. This is another instance where he begins to feel vulnerable– he tries to avoid the feeling the best he can, but as he grows comfortable with his partner, he allows the feeling to make a permanent home in his chest.

He loves being held. Even as big as he is, nothing stops him from curling up into his partner's arms to let his work fade away from his whirling thoughts. He has to grow accustomed to the closeness at first, but soon he can’t end a single day without at least having a few quiet moments in his partner’s embrace.

Receiving love, Neuvillette needs physical touch, quality time, and acts of service. He gives words of affirmation and acts of service to show his love.

nsfw below <3

Has a beautiful blue marking between his belly button and his cocks that depicts his sovereign symbol.

Neuvi’s ears, neck, and horns are extremely sensitive. Don’t mess with them unless you’re ready to have your brains fucked out.

Has a praise kink (giving and receiving). Any kind of encouragement goes straight to his dicks.

On that note- he absolutely has more than one cock. He’s usually so gentle, but if he’s worked into a frenzy he might just try to shove both cocks in at once.

Has a rut cycle. When he’s not in his rut, he’s an incredibly soft lover. When he IS in his rut, don’t expect to be able to walk anywhere for a few days once his rut is over.

Has a mild breeding kink. Sometimes he can’t help but think about his partner big and round with his child and it quite literally fries his brain a bit when he thinks too much about it.

Aftercare once his rut is over is GOD TIER. Hot bubble baths, hair washing, massages, snacks, cuddles. The WORKS. He takes his time soothing his partners after completely wrecking them.

ASS MAN!!!

Has a serious overstim kink, both giving and receiving. One orgasm is simply just never enough (or two, or three, or four…).

Is almost always dominant in his sexual encounters. He can be rough, yes, but he’s never mean. Think pleasure dom or service top.

Has a body worship kink. He thinks humans are beautiful creatures and always wants to explore every inch of his partners when he can.

Loves going down on his partner– probably his favorite thing ever after discovering it.

TANTRIC SEX

Has a tail that occasionally makes an appearance if he gets too worked up. He WILL use it to fuck his partner silly.

BITING. He loves leaving bites anywhere he can, even if no one else can see them.

Will only take one life partner, though he may play with other people if allowed. Once he’s formed the bond with his life partner, they won’t ever be replaced.

Will only allow his life partner to dom him. If he’s ever topped or dommed, it's a deliberate act of giving away his power to someone he trusts completely. These are some of the rarest moments where he willingly lets his worries and vulnerability spill out, and those moments are reserved for one person only.

in conclusion, he is quite literally the best man ever.

#neuvillette #neuvillete x reader #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette headcanons #genshin headcanons #neuvillette smut #genshin smut #genshin imagines #genshin impact

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userpedros · 1 year

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personal stash || joel miller

pairing: Joel x female!reader

summary: Joel decides after patrol it'd be a good idea to steal from Ellie's stash and things get a lil heated.

word count: 6k+

authors note: I wrote this in pretty much one go, so it is what it is. has not been beta read, barely proofread - mostly skimmed. also, Joel isn't as much of a hardass in this because he deserves a break okay. my mans gotta be tired from always being so angry.

warnings & content : 18+. Incredibly mature themes. Mentions and use of marijuana. established friendship. age gap (15+ years (honestly probably more like 20 but)), smut, fingering, unprotected p in v, oral - fem receiving, creampie-ish, slight cum eating, slight choking. pet names (dirty and nice!) (lemme know if i missed anything!)

“Are you sure she’s not going to notice, Joel? She’s your daughter, she’s pretty observant.” You looked over at Joel, giving him the side eye as he brought the lighter up to the end of the joint. You placed it between your lips as he lit the end, the tip illuminating a bright red before you inhaled, the end of the joint finalizing into a smokeable piece. You inhaled as Joel watched you, taking a deep breath in, holding it, and letting it out. The smoke began to curl and fill the air as Joel began to answer your question.

“’ M positive. Do y'think she’d ever suspect me? Nah. I reckon she'll suspect you.” He winked as he took the joint from your fingers, his large ones making the joint look minuscule between them. He inhaled, his eyebrows furrowing as he closed his eyes, and leaned his head back. As he breathed the thick smoke out, he sat back up, staring straight into your soul.

His salt and pepper brown hair tousled, strands going about every which way. His brown eyes looked you up and down as you took your turn with the spliff.

“Why ever would she suspect me?” Your eyebrows rose as you inhaled, and watched him watch you. “I don’t live with her.” You exhaled on the last part, watching his every move as he scooted a bit closer to you.

“I live with her but I’m not the one she usually smokes with on patrol, sweetheart.” He cocks an eyebrow and smirks as your face falls.

Your high was already beginning to settle in. You drank his words in as you realized that he paid a little more attention to you than you had originally thought. The couch in his living room began to swallow you whole as you began to drift into thought from his statement.

You were a lot younger than Joel. He was in his early fifties and well, you were a little far off from there. You’d just moved to Jackson, stumbling upon it with a group you’d been with, when you decided to stay and they decided not to. You’d made a lot of friends, weirdly enough, his surrogate daughter being one of them. Her and Dina had become like family to you, and you’d been like family to them. You’d become close enough to them that you’d obviously been spending time with Ellie’s makeshift father after your patrols together.

You had to admit, the way that Joel talked, with that Texan accent, absolutely melted you. The way he cared for Ellie, made you absolutely gooey inside. There was so much about him to like, that you couldn’t decide what you didn’t like. Well maybe besides his absolutely shit attitude sometimes but that had really grown on you too.

You knew it was probably a bit weird to be falling for your good friend’s dad, maybe to Ellie, but it had honestly started to happen before you’d even really become friends with her. But you couldn’t think about that right now because well, you were already spacing out and Joel was definitely onto you.

“You alright there?” He waved a large hand in your face as you came back to Earth. You shook your head as you looked back into his brown eyes once more before speaking.

“I’m just peachy, Joel. Just peachy.” You beamed a great big smile, or what you thought was great while he snickered at you. He coughed into his hand to hide his laughter. “What are you laughing at Miller?”

You frowned a little as you grabbed the joint from his hand, taking another few hits before handing it back.

“Ellie was right. You can't handle your weed well.” He shook his head as he peeled off his tan jacket and leaned back into the sofa. You craned your head to the side as you scoffed, dramatically jumping to sit sideways so you could look him in the eye.

As you sat cross-legged next to him, he lifted his eyebrow again and took the joint from your small fingertips. He had to lean a little to get to it, and his hand brushed against yours as he removed the burning flower from your fingers, stubbing it out in the ashtray in front of you both on the coffee table.

The brush of your skin against his sent a burning sensation throughout your body. He seemed to notice it too, never taking his eyes off yours as he grabbed onto your leg and scooted you closer to him. The area on your leg he had just been touching still seared after he removed his hand.

“I may not be able to handle my weed well, Miller, but hey, tryin’ counts for somethin’ right?” You leaned your head against the couch, watching his every move as your knee brushed against his leg.

You let it sit there for a second as he leaned his head back against the cushions and closed his eyes. He mumbled something under his breath, which you ignored as you closed your eyes. You both sat like that for a few minutes, your highs beginning to take over you both.

You and Joel had recently started to become close as you’d been with Ellie. You started taking over some patrol shifts for her whenever she wanted to spend time with Dina, and she’d taken some for you. She’d also known that you had a slight crush on Joel so she liked to call it a bit of charity that she’d extended. But she’d never tell you that she was moving patrol shifts around on purpose. She liked how you looked at Joel. He deserved someone that was compassionate, caring, and able to stand up to him when need be. You were also incredibly gorgeous so that didn’t hurt.

You’d really started to get a handle on how to talk to Joel, and he had started to learn how to talk to you. He knew, hell, everyone knew that you’d had a crush on him. It wasn’t just Ellie. It didn’t help that your face was totally readable, every emotion that you ever felt splayed across your face, even when you were trying to be discrete.

You came back to Earth a few minutes after you both had leaned your heads into the couch. The weed had been a nice way to relax after a long night of patrol. Joel had the bright idea to come back to his place and take some from Ellie’s stash, claiming that it was okay because he’d given up so many Chef Boyardee cans to her on the road so many years ago, it was the least she could do for her dear old dad.

Of course, you laughed when he said that. Rolling your eyes and blushing at the way he smiled when he talked about Ellie. The way he cared for her light a fire in you that you didn’t know existed. To see how much he’d given for the ones he loved was an attractive quality. Loyalty was important to you, especially in the world you were in now.

Joel patted you on the leg, bringing you back to reality as you lazily picked your head up to look at him.

“You alright there, lightweight?” Joel laughed as he scanned your face, taking in how happy you looked in the moment you were in. Your smile was bright and wide, something he’d grown used to in the past few months.

“’M great.” You went to speak again but a loud crash sent both of your heads whirling towards the direction the noise came from.

Of course. It was the cat Ellie had insisted Joel rescue from the cold Wyoming nights that had the ground blanketed in snow. He’d told her it was a waste of time, the kitten was completely feral but Ellie brought it home anyway, and of course Joel was unable to say no to her.

The bright orange cat mewled as he knocked over yet another small stack of books, looking back towards Joel as if to say, ‘look at what I just did.’

Joel groaned as he watched the cat knock off a small candle, going to get up to scare off the feline.

“Leave him alone. He just wants your attention. He knows you hate him so he just does this to piss you off.” You shrugged, grabbing Joel’s arm and pulling him back onto the couch.

“Y'see, I hate that damn cat. He’s always breakin’ shit and then I'm havin' to clean it up. Should’ve never let Ellie bring him home.” He groaned as he looked over at you, a smile breaking across his face as you both heard another crash from the dining area.

You both cracked up as the cat really began to howl, trying to steal the show and attention, which it seemed he was successful at.

You realized your hand was still on Joel’s arm, and you went to remove it but you decided to leave it there as you spoke. You squeezed his arm as your words spilled out of your mouth. “You let her keep it cause you’re a softie Miller.” His eyes went wide as you continued, the word vomit now unable to stop as your high took over. “But that’s not a bad thing, it’s actually really attractive how much you care for-.”

That’s when he cut you off. His hand flew to your mouth as he leaned over you. His eyebrows were scrunched together again, in his signature stare that he usually wore when he tried to close himself off.

“I’m gonna stop you right there, peach, I’m not a softie.” He leaned back as his skin burned into yours. He finally removed his hand, your mouth still feeling like it was on fire. His scent was assaulting your nostrils from being so close to him. Everything smelled like thick amber and pine.

It seemed that he had chosen to ignore the second thing you’d said, which you were grateful for, considering you had definitely not been thinking when it slipped out.

You snorted as you finally realized what he’d just said. “Okay, sure. If you’re not a softie, then I must really need glasses, my vison must be incredibly foggy.” You laughed as he continued to look irritated.

“You do have foggy vision, sweets. That’s why I do most of the work when we’re on patrol.” He rolled his eyes as he continued, “Hard for you to see what’s out there in plain sight when you’re too busy starin’ at me the whole time.”

With his last sentence, he began to smirk as your eyes grew wide. Well, can’t say you didn’t walk yourself right into that one.

You watched as his brown eyes watched you. It was now a game of who was going to talk first. Was his thick Texan accent going to be the first sound in the room or was it going to be your quiet voice?

Luckily for you, it was the stupid cat again. The reason this whole conversation had taken a turn. He jumped right into your lap and nuzzled into your hand as Joel continued to watch you. You both continued to stare directly into each other’s eyes as the feline called for attention in your lap.

After a few seconds of unrequited feelings on your end, the cat took off, leaving you both sitting there, still staring, neither of you saying a word. The smoke still lightly hung in the air; the lamp next to you illuminating the small space. The air was thick with tension and you decided it was time to speak. It didn’t seem that Joel was going to be the next one to talk as he carefully watched you, his eyebrows reaching the top of his forehead.

Your voice was barely a squeak as you finally spoke. “You mean to tell me you’ve noticed the whole time?” You cringed, breaking eye contact as you looked down at the worn, brown couch. “You really just let me stare at you the whole time and never said or did anything.”

You whistled as you began to get your bearings and deciding maybe it was time to go. The tension in the air was awkward for you and uncomfortable. It was finally noticeable to you now how obvious your small crush had been and well, you were a little embarrassed. That meant he didn’t feel the same way, if he’d known the whole damn time and never done a single thing.

“Well, I guess I should get going, it’s getting kind of late. Not to mention I’m completely embarrassed now.” You went to stand up, not moving your eyes to his when he gripped onto your leg.

“Didn’t ever say anything to you darlin’ 'cause I was a bit worried where it might go if I did.”

With his words, your eyes shot back to his once more. The weed took control, your confidence soaring as you sat back onto the couch. It was now or never and you were going for now.

“Let’s pretend you’re not worried, where would it go?” You grabbed his hand, latching onto that small piece of courage you had and laced your fingers with his. He gripped onto your hand as you set your joined palms in your lap. “I’m curious.”

You watched as he stared down at where your hands were joined, the tension in the air changing to something else, thicker, desire seeping over every pore in your body. Joel’s body language began to mirror yours as his eyes began to fill with something darker, his pupils dilating as he looked back to you.

“It might go a lil’ somethin’ like this.” With that, he leaned forward and crashed his lips to yours, instantly sealing the deal, that your relationship with him would be forever changed. You two would never be able to turn back now. Especially not when you kissed him back and pulled his bottom lip through your teeth, earning a groan from Joel.

He pulled back instantly, a pang of sadness filling you as he did. You already missed the feeling of him on your lips, it was an instant connection you’d never felt with anyone before, and it all happened within a single kiss and a split second.

“’M not sure we should be doin’ this. 'S not a good idea.” He shook his head as he started to stand up, your hand still in his. You refused to let go as you looked at him bewildered. You nodded for him to sit back down and words spilled out of your mouth again.

“You can’t just kiss me like that and then get up to go, telling me it’s a bad idea without even telling me why.” You shook your head as he continued to stand, his hand still in yours, watching your every move. His long-sleeved green flannel looked worn and tight against his arms, a small hole in his bicep now becoming your focal point. The embarrassment overshadows the fleeting confidence you just had.

His face became hard as he removed his hand from yours, placing it in his pocket. Your hand grew cold instantly from the lack of heat, falling into your lap. Sadness sank deep into the pit of your stomach. You weren’t sure how the night had gotten turned around like this but you just wanted to go back to how it had started. You wanted to go back to just being a young idiot who pined after a man old enough to be her father. It was simple and easy to do, but now you were stuck somewhere you didn’t know if you’d be able to pull yourself and Joel out of.

“I’m not good enough for you and you’re too young for me.” He turned around, walked over to where the cat had knocked things over, and picked them up. You watched the whole time, waiting for him to continue because surely, he had much better reasons than those.

But the other reasons never came out of his mouth. You watched as Joel began to build his walls up again. The same ones you had worked so incredibly hard to tear down.

You took a deep breath in as you decided you weren’t going to let this be it. You were done pining. You were either going to go home tonight and know that there would never be a chance in hell for you to be any sort of anything with Joel, or you were going to go home tonight knowing that something good was going to come out of this. Something had too.

You stood up and made your way over to where he was leaning against the dining room table.

“I know you’re not old enough to be losin’ your fuckin’ mind, Joel, because those are the lamest excuses I’ve ever fuckin’ heard.” You crossed your arms as you watched his back straighten through the worn flannel. His knees locked in his worn jeans that you loved so much.

“We live in a world where there’s goddamn mushrooms controlling and eating people. I don’t think it matters how old you are in a world like this.” You shook your head as he turned slowly, his gaze sweeping over to you. “I could give less than a single shit if you think you’re good enough for me. If I think you are, why question it? We’re in the fucking apocalypse for Christ's Sake! I don’t think there’s a single person left who is inherently good.”

You let out the long breath you’d been keeping in, not noticing how loud your voice had risen as you waited for him to speak. He had turned around and he was just staring at you now, leaning up against the dining room table, staring you down. He stood there for a few minutes, contemplating his next move before finally standing up and walking over to you, his tall figure towering over you.

“Good god, you’ve got a mouth on you.” He grabbed your hip with one hand as he tugged you into him. “You done now or are you goin’ t’ yell at me some more, sweetheart?”

You looked up at him, pulling yourself together, and taking a deep breath before speaking. “I think I’m done now.” You linked your arms around his waist as you watched him. You guessed that your tiny little rant had changed his mind. You weren’t going to question it.

“Wise choice, darlin'.’” And with that, he crashed his lips onto yours, taking you completely off guard.

Your lips melded into his as you two began to basically swallow each other whole. You didn’t know where either of you began as he flipped you around to where he was. He walked you backward, still keeping his mouth on yours, biting down on your lower lip as you hit the edge of the dining table behind you.

He lifted you onto the table in one swift motion, earning a grunt from you as your bottom hit the wood beneath you.

You pulled away for a second to say, “Not bad lifting skills for such an ‘old man’.” You giggled as you watched his gaze harden as he looked down at you. He pulled your hips into his, his growing erection visible as it strained beneath his jeans.

“I thought you said you were done talkin’? Do I need to shut you up again?” His fingertips pressed into your hips as his hold on you hardened.

“I think you might hav-“ He cut you off mid-sentence, placing his mouth on yours once more.

He pulled back slightly to say one last thing before his tongue delved back into your mouth.

“We only have so much time before Ellie gets home from hangin’ out with Dina. So do me a favor pretty girl, cut the chit-chat.” He lifted his hand, bringing it to your chin, grabbing it harshly as he angled your head up more. “I still have yet to have my midnight snack. I get real hungry after I smoke.”

You shivered with his words as they left his mouth.

"You sure you wanna do this on your dining table, Joel?" You whispered, the words barely leaving your mouth. They hung like ghosts in the air as you waited for his response.

"Dinin' table is where you're meant to eat, ain't it?" He looked down at you with an eyebrow cocked. His words hung proudly in the air. You both eagerly closed the distance between you two once more, your mouths melding together once again as if they belonged together. You were sure nothing would ever feel like this again, the feeling of his lips on yours.

You grabbed ahold of his shirt and pulled him into you more, leaning back with every pull into him, until your back hit the cool wooden surface of the table. As it did, you groaned, Joel collapsing on top of you.

He leaned back a little, pulling his mouth from yours as he eyed the long sleeve shirt you had on.

“Hope you’re not too attached to this.” He grunted as he grabbed the neck of the fabric. His knuckles rapped along your skin as he tore the material down the middle, opening you wide to his gaze. He reached his hand into the back of the torn fabric and unhooked your bra, ripping the fabric from your body and tossing it behind him into the living room somewhere. You both went wide-eyed as you heard the clasp of your bra hit the lamp, toppling the feeble piece of furniture over.

“Oops.” Was all you managed to get out as you pulled him back to you. His lips went straight to your chest, taking one hardened pink peak into his mouth, sending your head flying back, hitting the hard wood. You didn’t even care about how bad that had hurt as he nipped and sucked. You only cared about how good it felt to have Joel’s mouth on you.

You let out a string of curse words as he pulled your nipple between his teeth, looking up at you. He than began to kiss his way down to your navel, stopping just above your pant line.

He unbuckled your pants, his lips hovering over your stomach. As you helped him shimmy yourself out of your jeans, they fell onto the floor with a smack.

He leaned down, kneeling before you as he ran a finger over your slit through your panties.

“They don’t sell things like this in Jackson, where’d these come from pretty girl?” His accent was thick as he continued running his finger over you through the lacey material of your thong.

“I’d have to kill you if I told you.” You breathed out. He smirked as he tore them down as your words left your mouth. Your slick heat glistened under the only light left in the room, the small lamp that illuminated the dining room.

In all reality, you’d just stolen the pair from an abandoned Victoria’s Secret before you’d arrived in Jackson. You never really wore them but you were glad you’d decided to take a chance tonight.

He whistled as he stared directly into your heat, rocking back on his knees a little. “Look at how ready y'are for me already. Needy little thing.”

You whined, smacking him on the shoulder, barely able to reach. “Joel.” Your breath was incredibly labored as you watched him trace over your slit once more. He traced back down, entering one finger into your pussy.

He watched you as he tunneled his finger in and out of you, curling it to hit your sensitive spot each time, earning moans from you with each stroke.

You were getting louder as he continued to stroke his finger in and out of you, the wet sounds coming from you filling the room along with your moans.

He added a second finger, mumbling a string of curse words to himself. You dared yourself to look down at him and it was the best sight you’d ever seen. He was on his knees directly in front of your aching pussy, staring down at it like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

His fingers that were driving in and out of you were slick and glistening. As soon as he saw you staring down at him, he did something even better than what he was doing at the current moment. He leaned up and attached his mouth directly to your swollen clit and began to take turns sucking and licking.

"'S sweet for me, don't think it gets much better than this." His breath was hot on you, making it impossible to breath, only adding to the pleasure.

You couldn’t think straight, you closed your eyes and let your head hit the table once more, crying out as Joel continued to go to town on you.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Wanna hear you.” Joel whispered into your pussy as his fingers sped up, scissoring in and out of you.

“I’m pretty sure the whole town can fuckin’ hear me Joel, no need to worry.” You whined out, grabbing onto the sides of the table your knuckles turning white.

He continued for another minute, tantalizing your very near and pending orgasm before he abruptly stopped. Of course he stopped right when you couldn’t stop muttering his name. He knew you were close and It didn’t seem as though he was going to let you have it.

“Why’d you stop?” You whined out once more as you started to sit up, but were pushed down with Joel’s hand that wasn’t covered in you.

“Don’t need that bad attitude, sweet girl. Need ya to be loud for me. Want the whole neighborhood to hear what I’m doing to you.” He chuckled as he moved his glistening hand up and moved it to right in front of your mouth. “Now open wide, want you to taste how sweet you are for me.”

His fingers nudged at your mouth, you took them in, swallowing and sucking your residue off of him, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time.

“'S my good girl,” Joel muttered as he continued to watch you.

You swirled your tongue around his fingers one last time tasting your tangy residue and let his fingers go with a pop.

He leaned back and started to unbutton his shirt, beginning to pull it off.

“Oh that’s right Miller, give me a strip tease.” You whopped as he glared at you, stopping what he was doing.

“You’re annoying, you know that?” He huffed as he stared you down.

You giggled as he started to take his clothes off again, shedding the plaid and yanking his pants down. It was truly a sight to see and you were so grateful for the show. You watched with anticipation, biting your bottom lip as he kicked off his pants and threw them behind him. He stalked over to you before yanking you to him without warning. You hadn’t even really had time to admire how incredibly thick he was. As you slid towards him, your ass hanging off the table as your groin smacked into his.

“You’ve got such a sweet little pussy darlin, can’t imagine how good she’s gonna feel if she tasted that great.” He grunted as you sat up on your elbows to be closer to him.

He leaned back down, taking your mouth in his once more. One of his hands snaked around and grabbed your neck, his hand now your own personal necklace. He squeezed lightly and you moaned into the kiss. He snapped his hips into you when the sound escaped your throat.

His stiff erection was now pressed into your hot, dripping center. The feeling of his thick cock strained against you was sending you into a frenzy. You broke the kiss as you leaned back as much as his hand on your throat would allow.

You looked down at where your hips met and moaned again, the sight was so incredibly hot to you, you didn’t know if you would be able to take it when he finally pushed himself inside of you.

“Admirin’ the view, you filthy little thing?” He moved his free hand to grip his cock, stepping back slightly.

He gripped his length and smacked it against your clit, sending curse words out of your lips and his. He dragged his thick length down your slit and back up again, collecting your juices on his tip. He smacked your clit once more, sending your head snapping back.

It was all too much, the feeling of his hand on your neck, his thick dick hitting your sensitive bud. You knew he wanted you to beg. Hell, the man made you beg for him to do the stupidest shit whenever you were on patrol together. You didn’t know if you should appease him or wait for him to spell it out for you. Luckily you didn’t have to because Joel seemed to be impatient enough this time.

With one final smack and a gasp from both of your lips, he ran his cock down your slit one last time before positioning it at your entrance. He looked from where you two were about to join and into your eyes.

“Y'ready? Y'sure about this? We’ll never be able to go back to how it was after this darlin’.” He huffed out as he waited for your answer. "Gonna have t'have this pussy every time we're on patrol now."

“’M sure, Joel. I’ve been waitin’ for this for a while. Need your thick cock, baby.” You whined once more as he started to push himself in.

“Oh god, don’t think I’ve ever wanted to hear somethin’ more darlin.'” And with that he pushed himself completely in, bottoming out inside of you. “Good lord, you are something else. So fuckin’ tight.” He gritted through his teeth as he pushed out and back into you.

You both watched where the two of you were joined, enjoying the view as he continued to pump himself in and out of you at a slow speed. It was so incredibly hot to you. His thick length tunneling in and out of you, looking like it belonged there. It stretched you out completely, filling you in a way you didn’t know was possible. You were pretty sure you could die happy right now with Joel Miller’s cock stuffing you full.

“Holy fuck Joel. You’re so big.” With that you looked back up at him, your eyes completely wide as he continued to watch himself. You watched as he brought one of his hands around and grabbed your right leg and hoisted it over his shoulder.

He hit a completely new spot with this position, getting a deeper and better spot with each thrust.

"And you're so incredibly tight, can't believe I waited this long t'have you."

He brought his other hand around to your front, his calloused thumb ghosting over your clit. His rough pad began to rub small circles, causing your head to snap back once more.

You kept yourself balanced on your elbows and brought your head back up, looking at him as he looked up at you.

“Ain’t nothin’ ever felt this good before wrapped around me darlin’.” He grunted, whistling immediately after as he continued to stare you down. “’M hooked on you now, pretty girl.”

You let yourself fall backward as he leaned forward, keeping a finger on your clit, still rubbing small circles, driving you absolutely mad. His lips ghosted over yours and he held himself there. His eyes screwed shut as his rhythm began to pick up.

“Holy shit Joel, don’t know how much more I can take.” You managed to squeak out.

“Is my cock too much for ya? That’s too damn bad, I’m never givin’ her up now. Gonna make her mine, make her full of me.” His breath was hot on your mouth.

You cried out as he continued to hit the most sensitive spot in your cut, you were getting so close, especially with his finger on your clit.

"Look at how drunk you're gettin' on my cock, takin' it so well for me."

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You began to grow louder with each thrust until you suddenly burst, stars and blackness clouding your vision. You started to collapse and fall backward but Joel moved a hand from your leg and placed it behind you, steadying you.

“Mmm, couldn’t wait for me could ya?” He sent a smack down to your clit, removing his fingers. You were still convulsing with aftershocks so the smack to your sensitive only added to the experience, making the stars in your vision explode.

His groans began to grow louder as he got closer to his release. His pace sloppier as his cock started to twitch inside of you.

Suddenly, he started to explode inside of you, painting your walls with his thick cum. He pulled out just as it started and started to cum all over the outside of your pussy, he drug some up to your stomach as he rested his length there for just a second.

You were finally starting to come back to life when you noticed how incredibly sticky you were about to be.

You swopped your pointer finger down to the small little pile of cum that had collected right underneath your belly button and ran your finger through it, collecting it pad of your finger. You brought that finger to your mouth and sucked the sticky sweet residue off as he watched. His eyes grew wide and his eyebrows shot to the top of his forehead.

“You tasted me, Miller. It was only fair I get to do the same. I’ve gotta say, we taste so good together.” You moaned out the last part, watching as his pupils dilate with your words.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Gotta give an old man a second to recover before you say shit like that.” He looked away from you as he whistled out, grabbing his boxers off the floor, bringing them up to you, and cleaning you off.

You let him swipe the thin cotton material over your sensitive parts, breathing out as your swollen pussy was taken care of by him. As soon as you were cleaned up, Joel motioned for you to come closer to where he was, getting up off the table. You obeyed and walked over to where he was standing. Your legs were weak and wobbly, which Joel took notice of.

“Care for some help there darlin'?” He said, looking down at you. You just nodded as you held your arms up. You two seemed to understand each other because he swooped you up off your feet and carried you up the stairs, stopping in front of his door when you heard the door below you slam. You were naked, curled up in Joel’s arms as he held you and his boxer briefs, which he’d used to clean you up.

As the door slammed, Joel pushed into his room, tossing his briefs somewhere before shutting the door behind him. You were tired from the long shift of patrol and your vigorous nighttime activity so you were beginning to fall asleep in Joel’s arms. You couldn’t even seem to care that your clothes were strewn apart on the living room floor downstairs, giving whoever had just walked in a hint as to what the previous activities had just been.

He laid you down on his bed and tucked you in under the covers. The soft cotton and smell of Joel overtook you fast. You heard a whistle coming from outside the door, as Joel tugged on his sweatpants. His bedroom door opened as he left the room. All you could hear was Ellie giving Joel shit and him rushing down the stairs to gather all of the articles of clothing you two had left strewn about. You tried to keep your eyes open but with the high still lingering in your head and your body completely worn out, it was pretty impossible. You waited for a second as you heard his feet pound up the stairs. The door opened and a pile of clothes fell onto the floor in front of the door, Joel coming in and closing it behind him.

You watched with hooded eyes as he climbed into bed from the other side. He pulled you into him, resting your head on his chest.

“I had fun tonight.” You managed to say before closing your eyes. You took in his scent once more and the feel of his chest against your cheek before you began to drift off into sleep. Joel said something back to you but you were unable to hear it as you drifted off, grateful for weed and grateful for dining room tables.

#Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader smut #mine #please lemme know your thoughts if you read!

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bigfatbimbo · 23 days

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Okay fluffy Vox ramble:

•I’ve wrote a little before about how I love Vox’s hands and I’m a firm believer that he is the type of person who always has to be doing something with his hands when he’s talking.

•That being said, doing something with his hands on you-AND NOT IN A DIRTY WAY FOR ONCE

•He will trace his claws along your arm while you talk or vent about your day or while he’s talking. Hell trace shapes and his name, especially his name, all over your arms, your hands, your chest, your back, wherever he can reach where he’s laying.

•If your hair is curly he will twist the curls around his fingers, and if it not he will still twist it between his fingers

•He sometimes gets it tangled by accident especially if he like zones out listening to you or listening to himself talk-

•He’ll order you your favorite food when your tired and/or upset because who doesn’t like getting their favorite food when their upset?

•besides he’s got the money to spare-

•Sometimes if he’s in the mood and/or you have the energy to do it, he’ll give you his card and straight up sugar daddy your ass and say go crazy!!

•I’m a firm believer that Vox NEEDS a dom in his life for both soft and spicy moments, but I also am a believer that he has sugar daddy energy and tendencies, and when you’re not spoiling him with love and attention and praise (or degradation if he is in need of it), his spoiling you with…literally whatever you want-

•C’mon he’s a CEO of a company in Hell-he has money falling out of his ass with how much he works

•Speaking of which, if you come home one day having a shit day, and he comes home having a shit day too, if y’all don’t fuck it out; he’s pressing soft kisses to your temple, mumble how much he loves you and needs you…

•When he’s too tired and just needs you, he can’t hold up the walls and just says what he feels

•Plus he knows that hearing that stuff helps you feel better too and he absolutely melts when you tell him things like that back.

•Will actually make heart eyes up at you while you sweet talk him and say how much you love and adore him, how much you appreciate him and how happy he makes you. He’s just so soft when he’s tired and when he needs your sweet words and he loves making you melt with his words just as much.

~~~I hope this helps you feel better Bimbo cuz your writing always helps me feel better when I have a bad day so I’m more than happy to return the favor~~~

BONUS Lucifer fluff!!!

•Lucifer wraps his wings around you when you’re having a bad day

•He just holds you close and wraps his wings around you like a warm blanket, while he combs his fingers through your hair and tells you how amazing you’re doing and how proud of you he is, and how much he loves you and appreciates you for all you do

•He knows you pour your heart and soul into him always, there’s no way in Hell he’s going to miss a opportunity to pour his all back into you too <3

THE CURLY HAIR THING MADE ME SMILE BECAUSE I HAVE CURLY HAIR 😭🫶

anyways you did very good with these, probably my favorite I RLLLLY appreciate it

#hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #vox fluff #bimbo rambling

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lowlights · 3 months

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Hi. I'm back, and I wrote this in about an hour so be nice. This is 100% inspired by @ezrasbirdie's Twinkle and the very lovely dream it gave me. So this is Birdee's fault.

Perfect Fit

Frankie Morales x plus size f!reader // 1.3k

Warnings: Reader is a curvy lady with big titties and a belly, f receiving oral, mutual masturbation, cum eating, lots of praise, language, a smidge of insecurity but it doesn't last long, reader borrows Frankie's shirt, a very feral Frankie who has got it BAD for reader. Use of good girl and bebita. I also maintain that Frankie is a babbler during sex. Oh also Frankie is in sweatpants, which is a gift to us all.

The flickering lights of the TV lit up your face, an old rom-com from the '90s that you had seen a million times playing on the screen. You laughed at every joke, even though you could recite every line if asked. Frankie heard you mutter them under your breath sometimes, which he would have found annoying if it had been anyone else. Never with you though.

He wasn’t paying a damn bit of attention to the movie, though.

Not for the past twenty minutes at least. Not when you were wearing those leggings and his threadbare grey t-shirt which you had borrowed for the night. Frankie could barely drag his eyes away from how his shirt pulled tight on your gorgeous tits or how the hem had rolled up just enough to show your soft tummy.

He felt like a pervert ogling you like a fucking teenager who could barely control himself, even though you had been dating for more than six months. He was allowed to ogle, but you had just had a week from hell at work and had been looking forward to a relaxing night at Frankie’s place. He could keep his hands off of you for a couple of hours so you could watch your favorite movie in peace.

You shifted slightly on his brown leather sectional and leaned into him, tucking your legs up and under you. Frankie stiffened, and you noticed. Normally he would put his hand on your knee or his arm around your shoulder. Instead, his hands flexed as he straightened out invisible wrinkles on his sweatpants.

“You alright, babe?” You pushed a stray curl behind Frankie’s ear. You made a mental note to give him a haircut this weekend. You’d been putting it off; you liked his hair on the longer side.

“Fine, fine. Just, uh- gonna go get a glass of water.” He stood up so quickly that you practically fell over.

“I…okay?” you mumbled as he made a beeline for the kitchen. He was gone long enough for the movie to culminate with the big romantic kiss and the happily ever after, making his way back to the couch as you clicked off the credits. He settled back next to you but a little further away than before and stared straight ahead.

Doubt gnawed at you. “Are you upset with me, Frankie? Is it because I made you watch this dumb movie again?” you asked softly, fiddling with one of your rings. The relationship was still new enough that you didn’t know how to read all of his emotions just yet.

His head whipped around. “What? No! Not at all, baby. I’m just- tired. You’re tired too, yeah? Should we go to bed?” His eyes darted down to your shirt, which made you realize how far it had ridden up.

You pulled down on it out of habit, and Frankie frowned. “Are you sure?” you asked.

Frankie shook his head. “C’mere,” he instructed as he helped you over to straddle his hips. You draped your arms around his broad shoulders, gasping slightly as he rolled his erection against you. “You’ve been driving me fucking crazy, baby. Do you know that? Feel what you do to me?”

“But I haven’t been doing anything?” You were genuinely confused.

Frankie nuzzled his nose against your chest, breathing heavily. “You look so good in my shirt. Damn, it fits you just fucking right.”

You cupped his face and pulled him up for a kiss, his tongue immediately begging for entrance. Frankie kissed you like it was his last chance, like you were the last gasp of air he would ever take. “This shirt barely fits,” you admitted when you both broke to catch your breath.

“It’s perfect,” he said adamantly. “Don’t ever wear anything else.”

You giggled and kissed him again before he lifted you off and leaned you back so you could stretch out on the chaise portion of the couch. He had fucked you more than once here in the months since he had bought it. A christening, he had called it, the night it had been delivered.

Without a word, Frankie helped you shimmy out of your leggings and underwear, stopping to stare at you as he tossed them over his shoulder. You smiled, and felt powerful. No man ever looked at you the way Frankie had looked at you since the first night you met. He was enraptured, enthralled. And he looked like he wanted to feast on you. You bent one knee up and let it fall against the couch. His cock noticeably jumped, pressing against his sweats.

“Oh fuck. Look at my girl, she looks so pretty.” Frankie settled on his belly and pulled your leg up over his shoulder. He left a trail of kisses up your inner thigh before softly kissing your cunt. He buried his nose against your curls and inhaled deeply. “Smell so fucking good for me.”

Frankie wasted no time and licked a slow and tortuous stripe up your slit before flicking his tongue against your clit. He built a steady pace, pushing you to the edge and easing back over and over again.

“Christ, Frankie, oh my- Frankie, Frankie, Frankie,” you babbled as you threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling him against your cunt as it clenched around nothing. He licked up everything you gave him before standing up and ripping off his clothes, his cock bobbing as he stepped out of his pants. His chin was wet with your orgasm, and his pupils looked blown out.

“Bebita, I need you to touch yourself. Rub that gorgeous clit, please? Please, baby,” he begged, stroking and squeezing himself as you gently rubbed circles on your sensitive clit. “Such a good girl, doing just what I ask.”

His praise made something low in your stomach clench and you arched your hips up, eyes fluttering closed.

“No, bebita, look at me, please. Lemme see those eyes. Yes, yes. Can you put a finger inside?” he practically begged, hand quickening over his leaking cock.

“Yes, Frankie,” you shuddered as you exhaled, slipping one finger easily into your relaxed cunt.

“Another, baby, please?” He moaned, never taking his eyes off you, as you complied and added in a second finger. He watched you move them in and out, snaking your other hand down to rub on your clit. “I’m so close, where- where can I? Quick, tell me.”

You pulled your fingers out and spread your legs wide. “Here, Frankie, here.” The words had barely left your mouth before he was standing over you, one knee resting on the couch as he decorated your pussy with ropes of cum. You gripped his thigh and watched as he worked himself through his orgasm. He was always so pretty when he came, mouth open and dark brown eyelashes grazing against his cheeks.

Frankie bent over to where you leaned against the cushion so he could kiss you, whispering praise between each breath and lick of his tongue. “Gonna get you cleaned up,” he said finally.

You expected him to go get a washcloth from the bathroom - he always made sure it was nice and warm - but instead, he settled back between your thighs. “Frankie?” you squeaked as he started licking your inner thigh.

“I said I need to clean you up, baby. Now take off that shirt and let me see those pretty tits?” He looked up at you with pleading eyes. You would do anything he asked, and in this moment he knew it. You tossed your shirt over your head and Frankie rolled your nipple between his thumb and finger as he dove back down between your thighs.

“Good girl, always so good for me,” he hummed as he licked himself off of you. “Gonna make you come again on my tongue, then I’m gonna make you come on my cock. Gonna have you all night, bebita.”

You threw your head back as he sucked gently on your clit. “All this because I wore your shirt?” you chuckled.

Frankie was too busy to respond. But he made good on his promises that night.

And always left the shirt out for you to wear whenever you wanted.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x f!reader #f!reader #plus size!reader #triple frontier #I missed frankie

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flonkertn · 8 months

Text

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : rafe cameron x reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : pure fluff, proofread like once so apologies for any mistakes!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.5k

𝐚/𝐧 : this is my first time publishing any writing so feedback would be greatly appreciated!! these hcs are mostly fanon!rafe but i tried to incorporate some of his canon traits. for the most part, i just wrote about scenarios/pieces that came to mind and sprinkled in some of my own fantasies (also that butterfly took so damn long i nearly gave up)

𖡼 he hates the fact that you work, it’s not that he values tradition, but he longs so desperately to provide for you, to take you away from the stress of your job and have you relax at home all day. he wishes he could come home after a long day and find you curled up on the sofa, asleep or covered in a blanket watching a show or cooking a meal for you both and feeding him a spoonful to make sure it tastes just right. he begs you to quit work and let him care for you and treat you all day every day by simply letting you do nothing.

𖡼 when you do have a bad day at work, he’s devastated (but also very smug). he runs you a bath and slowly takes off your clothes, wiping your tears as he does so if it’s been an especially unpleasant day. he sits you in the tub and tells you to wait, bringing in a bottle of wine or champagne (or just straight vodka who knows) and lighting a candle before quickly stripping off and sinking into water. he pulls your legs up so that they rest on his body and rubs your feet whilst you tell him about your day, having you let all your emotions out here and now, nodding along and chipping in with a “i know, baby” or a “i’m so sorry, love”

𖡼 he loves surfing and any other water sports, he just needs to be on the sand and by the ocean, but he knows that you sometimes aren’t in the mood for something so thrilling or dangerous. so there’s days where he takes you down to the beach, playing with your hair as you read a book leant against a palm tree and constantly asking if you’re thirsty or hungry, running off to get you anything you mention before you can even finish the word. as the sun sets he gets a paddle board, sitting on the edge and rowing through the soft waves as you lie down in front of him, head plush on his lap as the sun hits your back, perfectly highlighting the drops of water that have found their way onto your skin.

𖡼 he hums, like all the time. it doesn’t matter what he’s doing, wether he’s pottering about or cooking or literally just walking down the corridor, he’s humming a tune. it’s so soft and quiet that you can’t hear it unless you really listen, but he makes sure to be a little louder when you’re lying your head on his chest at night, his hands gently massaging your hips as your body rises and falls in unison with his heavy breath, his heartbeat echoing in your ears as you fall asleep.

𖡼 he loves to wake up the same time as you, he wants to lie with you for ages whilst you both get your bearings and keep asking you for five more minutes whenever you try to get up. if he wakes up before you and has nowhere to be, he’ll just go back to sleep, or at least pretend that he has, just so you can take your time and eventually wake him up with kisses.

𖡼 he’s always late because he’s too busy watching you get ready. sometimes he’ll stay lying in bed if you’re out before him, lazily watching you as he props himself up on his elbow, a smile pulling on his lips. the way you hum to yourself and hesitate before each step of your routine trying to remember whats next is so satisfying to him. he does the same on a night, rushing to get ready just so he can sit and watch you, often placing himself behind you and planting kisses on your cheek and temple and neck, all the while staring at you through the mirror, waiting for your cute little smirk when the two of you make eye contact. each time you ask him what he’s doing, his answer is the same.

“jus’ tryna memorise it. what if you want me to do it for you when you’re too tired?”

𖡼 he likes to be impossibly close when you sleep with one another. even when you can hear the soft snores escaping from his lips, his arms are wrapped around you or fingers tangled in your hair or body beneath yours. even if he just gets to have a hand on you, a fingertip, it’s all he needs to fall asleep, and he always makes sure to help you. his hands find your waist as he rubs against your sides, grazing your skin up and down or smoothing his touch in soft, slow circles. his breath falling warm on the back of your neck or against your ear and calming you into a deep sleep.

𖡼 his camera roll is FULL of you. like he genuinely runs out of storage sometimes because he can’t stop taking pictures and videos of you. he’ll go through it with you as well. you’ll be lying in bed reading or just waking up and he’ll mumble something with a smile on his face.

“look at this one, babe”

he rests his phone in front of you, a candid picture from the night before filling your eyes as a wide grin is plastered on his face behind the screen.

“aren’t you beautiful? my perfect girl.” he murmurs as he pulls his phone back to him, staring at the photo for a minute more and smiling to himself, before swiping onto the next item and repeating the process.

𖡼 most of his camera roll, however, is pictures of you sleeping. not in a creepy way, he does sometimes take a picture of you in bed when you just look too perfect to forget, saving it just for his eyes, but he can’t help it. a large amount of these pictures are the times when he does have to get out of bed before yourself, he has a stupid meeting or a stupid mistake to fix that pulls him away from you. he’ll creep out of bed and quietly get ready, scrunching his nose and squinting his eyes every time an action is louder than he wants it to be. just as he comes in to kiss you goodbye, he has to stop and look at you. you’re so beautiful. your hair sprawled out against the pillow and tangled in your mouth. the faintest snores falling from your nose and the duvet he’d only just neatened up is already disheveled from your movement. he can’t help but snap a quick picture of you and press his lips against your forehead, lingering there for just a little too long.

𖡼 he keeps a picture (or twelve) of you in his wallet. he keeps them everywhere. he just needs to look at you all the time. a keyring with your face attached to his keys. his wallpaper(s) on his phone and work computer are all you. his desk is covered in framed pictures of you so he can sit staring at your face and your smile, head resting in his hands whilst he avoids work and thinks of how he can treat you that night, desperate to spoil you.

𖡼 Rafe will never argue with you, he never even raises his voice at you if it isn’t laced with excitement. despite his short-temper, and his impatience and (at times) his arrogance, he refuses to show you that side of him, or at least direct it to you. if he does disagree with you or he feels something coming on, he’ll simply excuse himself, muttering “jus’ one minute” and squeezing your hand gently before walking into a separate room. he sits there, trying to slow his breathing and pressing his forehead into his palms to try and gain some perspective and, if nothing else, calm himself down. the first few times he did so you just stood there confused, eventually following him and peeking round the corner of the door, to which he’d raise his head and rush over to you, practically chanting the word “sorry” and kissing your hands as he pushes you out. you soon realised he needed the time and space to gather himself, and left him alone until he was ready to carry on the conversation, greeting him with a wide grin each time he came back to you.

𖡼 his hand(s) are on you at. all. times. it started as an act of protection, to ensure nobody tries it on with you in public but he’s become so accustomed to it that it’s now a constant. he’ll walk around with a palm spread across your lower back, arm swung around your shoulder, fingers intertwining with yours, hand squeezing your side, and it only gets more intimate at home. tracing patterns on your back, grazings his fingers against your thighs, peppering kisses on your stomach and cheeks and jaw and nose. he acts as though he’d die if he didn’t feel you against him for more than five seconds.

𖡼 he can read you like a book, literally nothing gets past him. you could walk into a room, a smile plastered on your face, not a hint of sadness around you in a meter radius, and Rafe would still be asking what’s wrong. before you even realise you’re upset he’ll be comforting you and insisting you tell him what’s got you “so worked up.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @sadfury

#rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe x reader #rafe #outer banks #drew starkey #headcanon #rafe cameron x reader #fluff

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ocelettelatte · 5 months

Text

How are they when they do your hair?

Includes: Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Choso, Toji x Curly Hair!Reader. (+Todo Bonus) Author's Note: First and possibly the last post I'll make. Made this just for fun so the characters might be OOC. Self-indulgent, but I did try to make the reader ambiguous. Divider by @/saradika

Gojo

Gojo learns how to do your hair pretty quickly.

He watches you do it once and he’s able to do it almost immediately.

He’ll go all out for you. That hairstyle you saw online? Boom you got it.

That one hair product you wanted but were always told you needed some kind of license to get it? I don’t know how, but he got it.

Your hair gets the slightest bit messed up and he’s pissed for you. Just straight whiny about it.

Has given you mini heart attacks before. “My bad I messed up, we gotta go bald.” while braiding your hair...

Buys all kinds of charms and accessories for your hair.

While he knows you shouldn’t do it often, he actually likes your hair straight. It always amazes him how long your hair actually is.

He also loves curl-defining. Going one by one curling each ringlet with his finger is oddly satisfying to him.

Definitely uses all of your products. When you ask about it, he’ll deny it.

Nanami

Nanami likes your hair however you like it. braids, twists, dreads, loose, straightened, wigs, short. If you’re happy with it then he’s happy.

If you ask him to do your hair, he’ll keep it simple. Nothing too flashy but not too basic.

He does this because he always feels bad when you have the prettiest hairstyles, knowing you’ve spent hours on it and it just gets messed up because of your line of work.

The face you make when you tell him it’s fine always tugs at his heart.

However, this doesn't mean he won't give you a glamorous hairstyle for date nights.

Nanami has bought little charms for you to put in your hair and keeps everything you leave at his place in a little basket.

Helps you with your hair when you’re getting ready for bed.

Buys a silk pillowcase just for you.

If he sees you're running out of product he'll use the last of it and buy you new ones.

If there's a particular product you have to order online, Nanami knows exactly when to order said product.

Geto

You always let the twins do your hair, Nanako being the most interested in it. You see it as a learning experience for them.

However, You never let Geto touch your hair. You weren’t too fond of his choice of words when referring to non-sorcerers.

After a bit of warming up to one another, you finally allowed him to do your hair.

Geto absolutely loves braiding your hair.

I’ve always thought that Geto might have picked up on some mundane hobbies once he started his cult. One of those hobbies being Ikebana. Which is why he loves hair braiding.

After learning how many intricate things you could do with this style, it would become his go-to thing.

He has the gentlest hands when doing hair.

With permission, he would put flowers in your hair. Sometimes he’ll go the extra mile of getting you to wear a Hakama or Kimono just to tie the whole look together.

Granted, he knows that he has to give your scalp a break. On those days he actually likes your hair loose.

Choso

All of his experiences doing hair have only been on himself. So when he meets you, he learns so much about his and your hair.

Unfortunately, Choso is scared to touch your hair. The last time he did he tangled it pretty badly.

He is so gentle that things end up getting loose and he has to start over.

Still learning all the different hairstyles. Confuses twists for dreads.

Constantly asking if you’re okay and making sure that he’s not hurting you.

Sometimes he hesitates when doing your hair and you reassure him that he’s doing fine.

Either uses too much product or not enough. There’s no in-between.

If you ask him to buy shampoo and conditioner, he'll get a little overwhelmed and come back with three in one.

Loves giving you any hairstyle that has twin tails. He also likes to put little ribbons in your hair sometimes.

Toji

“Stop moving your damn head.” Kind of vibes.

Definitely rough and says that he’s not.

Most definitely would pop you with the comb.

All jokes aside, Toji is pretty good at doing your hair. Though it’s like pulling teeth trying to convince him to do it.

Prefers if you’ve done whatever you needed to your hair so he can style it however.

Toji doesn’t have a favorite style for you. At the end of the day, it’s just hair to him.

Your accessories are floating around his place. He even stepped on one.

Here's a bonus because Toji was so short!

Todo

Todo definitely has everything he needs to do your hair. Unfortunately, just like that one hair lady in your life, he’s hard to get a hold of.

This Takada mega fan will cancel on you when he finds out there’s an event in the area. Those days you’ve contemplated going bald…

The only reason why you keep going back to him is because he's so damn good at it. It’s just one-on-one... and the occasional mentions of Takada, but you can deal with that.

Has tried to convince you to lock your hair a handful of times.

Gave you starter locks to see if you like it. If you don’t he’ll do whatever you like.

“Stop being so tender-headed.”

"HOW!?"

He’s not gentle but he’s not rough either.

Silk. Pillow. I’m confident that he owns at least one.

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krypticcafe · 1 year

Note

Hi! I love your writing sm!!! Could I request how the boys + könig would react to a reader with curly hair? (We’re talking tight, kinky coily curls)

COD:MWII Boys w/a curly-haired partner

rating: PG-13

character(s): GN!Reader, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, John "Soap" McTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, König, Hound

warning(s): none

a/n: aw thank you! And I love this request!! I'm not someone with curly, kinky hair, but I hear a lot about how they're super underrepresented. Even I'm tired of the "brushed his hand through your hair" or the "y/n with a messy bun/straight hair" bc PLEASSEE, my hair is a rat's nest, this would not work 💀 Anyways, I hope I did you justice and lmk if I got anything wrong!!

Gaz

Let's be honest, it's nothing new to him. He's experienced with coily, kinky hair, whether it be himself or his family or a friend.

I actually like to think he experimented with longer hairstyles before cutting it for military.

He gets you the most out of all of them, honestly. Knows exactly what you mean when you need a certain product or talk about maintenance, doesn't belittle you when you get upset over your hair, and helps a lot, too.

He doesn't have to do as much maintenance, so he doesn't use too much product, but sometimes he'll eye yours and make a note to try some for himself.

Since you and Gaz can trust each other, you sometimes have nights where you help style each other, just to spend some quality time.

Also yes, you guys have matching bonnets, it was actually his idea. You guys take so many pics together, too.

Gaz will notice if your hair looks healthier or fresher, and while he always thinks your curls are beautiful, he'll make extra compliments so that you know that he pays attention.

Oh, and if you do something special with it? He's all over you, all like, "What's the special occasion? Or am I just lucky today?"

Price

Your hair was one of the many reasons Price had noticed you so much, particularly because the military didn't really allow room for soldiers to do much with their hair and most have to gel it down if necessary.

When you tell him about the amount of care that goes into it, he starts thinking that his facial hair routine isn't so bad after all.

Once you get together, he starts looking into the product you need to get.

Unfortunately, he will have a bit of a hard time, so it's probably best if you show him the ropes for stuff like oils for protective styles, specific tools you use, etc. Otherwise, he'll be wandering around the aisle for a while. Please.

Sometimes, there'll be days where both of you guys take up the bathroom and go through your routines together, it's a pretty good way for him to learn your process and for you to learn his. There's a mutual respect.

Realistically, I don't think you would let either party take over for each other. At least, not for a long time.

If you put on a real nice outfit and let your natural hair out, oh this man will be on his knees, so use that information wisely.

Soap

Ooo, he's obsessed, I'm telling ya!!

Definitely gets stunned at how much it takes for you to take care of those curls, but not surprised that it's so difficult.

He does kinda wonder how you deal with it if you're someone that's on the battlefield.

You definitely had to tell him off for toying with it once, and he has stopped, but it's taking every inch of him to keep his ADHD ass from mindlessly twirling one between his fingers whenever you guys cuddle. But he isn't gonna do it! Unless you let him, then he loves how the texture feels.

You won't admit it, but sometimes you only let him touch it because of how happy it makes him, and you know he's being as respectful as possible.

He'll always be your #1 hype man too! Loves it when you experiment!!

You've definitely caught him wearing your bonnet multiple times, too.

One time, you decided to tease him by guiding him to help you detangle your hair, and frustration was absolutely worth it.

He got so pouty afterward when he had to give up, but you let him know he did a good job trying.

Ghost

He doesn't mean to be rude but he's definitely like "Can't be that bad."

And then you show him your grocery list.

It is that bad.

He gets frustrated and just buys one of everything, walking out of the store with like a dozen bags. He memorizes the ones you pick so there's that at least.

Don't mind him, he's just a bit blunt because he'll then ask, "Why don't you just cut/gel it?". Just explain it, and he'll respect your choice, though it intimidates him a little.

At one point, you're actually the one that lets him feel your hair, so he knows what it's like. He would never touch it unless invited, he's got too much self-control. People also become too intimidated by him to try to touch your hair too, so that's a plus.

It oddly soothes him, he likes how the texture feels on his fingers and especially when it's softer than usual.

One time, you used your own hand to help guide his through your hair, and oh man, was he flustered. Mans was glitching out for a few seconds.

Roach

He thinks your curls are so cute,

Like he literally can't stop watching you because of how they move when you walk.

On occasions where you let him touch it, you'll find that whenever you both are close to each other and really deep in an activity or conversation, he'll absent-mindedly roll a curl between his fingers.

His hands are good for many things, signing, fighting, and other fun stuff. Styling your hair is included!

One of his favorite things to do is help you find and try new styles with your hair. Roach loves looking up and researching about your hair type and what you can do with it, he finds it all super interesting!

Often buys you clips, beads, or whatever he thinks is pretty so you can try it on!

Loves to kiss your head because of how your hair tickles his face a little. He's been tempted to just bury his face in the back of your neck just to plant a bunch of kisses on more than one occasion.

On days where you put extra care into your curls, he's absolutely showing you off to everyone! He wants others to know how hard you worked to look so damn good!! (Gary says it's a full-time job, really)

König

Expect to find him staring all starstruck a lot.

Like a lot.

When you tell him it's your natural hair, he's surprised, he thought you just did a lot of work to make your curls so coily.

He once asked (very) politely if he could touch your hair, and because he was (extremely) nice about it, you let him.

Only for him to panic when the velcro from his glove got caught and he apologized a dozen times over. Afterwards, he treated you like porcelain, keeping his hands straight at his sides around you and acting like a spooked animal.

It got to a point where you had to confront him and tell him it was an honest mistake, and he didn't have to apologize which made him apologize more.

On the other hand, König enjoys watching you do your hair, just sitting there quietly with the occasional question. Sometimes, he helps comb your hair, but that's the most he'll let himself do since he doesn't want to mess things up.

Really loves how your products smell.

While he thinks you look amazing no matter what, he likes it best when you go natural.

Hound

Knows a lot more than you expected. They aren't well-versed, but they know more than the average person when it comes to the deal with kinky hair.

They'll go out with you on shopping trips and often help you pick out scents, one that you like but one that isn't too sensitive for their nose, it's something you didn't expect them to enjoy so much.

You can trust her to always have stuff on hand for you if you live separately or in different quarters. Oils, creams, custards, moisturizers, a hair pick (all from your fave brands, of course), she's got you.

He surprises you again when you come home one day, way too tired to do your routine, so he offers to do it for you.

If this was a test, they passed!! They even knew how to brush your hair the right way not to damage it and had already refilled some of your stock.

After that, you often find him helping on wash days when you're far too exhausted, as his way of pampering you. His favorite thing is doing your edges.

Her scary dog privileges also help ward off weirdos trying to touch your hair, and much like Soap, she hypes you up regardless if it's a frizzy day or a special occasion.

Expect them to be mildly addicted to the way your hair smells, it's literally one of their comforts because of how much it reminds them of you.

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multifanhoe99 · 6 months

Text

Kinktober Day 18- Voice Kink

Pairing: Felix x Fem!Reader

Warnings: He calls the reader love and baby a lot, Also pretty girl, descriptions of female anatomy, deep voice Felix, oral (fem receiving).

=Let me know if I missed any.=

18+ MDNI

PROMPT LIST

MASTERLIST

You loved spending days inside with Felix cuddled up on the couch. With his busy schedule, it didn't get to happen very often so you took advantage of it whenever you got the chance. He was currently sitting with his head in your lap and you were playing with his hair. Sometimes it was nice to just do nothing but sit in each other's company and do nothing.

"It looks like it's raining again. I know how much you love a good rainy day," he said, "The sound of rain on the roof, the smell of wet concrete outside. What do they call it? There's a name for that specific smell right?"

"Yeah," you replied, "It's called petrichor."

He smiled, "Oh yeah, yeah that's it. God, you're so smart. I love that big beautiful brain of yours."

"Oh stop it," you say. You loved Felix's voice. It was so dynamic and beautiful. It always did something to you. It was almost hypnotic. "I could listen to you talk for hours."

"Now who needs to stop," he said.

"No really," you said assuring him, "I love listening to you your voice is so cute and soft and soothing." He just laughs but, you really did mean it. He could be talking about nothing and you could still sit there and listen to him talk for hours.

About an hour has passed and you two are now cuddling in bed. You just finished watching a movie and were about to start another one when he said, "Wow, it's really starting to come down now. Listen to it out there."

"Yeah, it is," you replied, "I have to admit there's something so peaceful about being inside while it's raining. I know you get a little antsy when you're stuck inside but, I always feel like there's something, almost intimate, about rainy days. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah," he said getting a mischievous smile on his face, "rainy days just make me want to curl up in bed and absolutely worship you from head to toe. Come here pretty girl, snuggle up close to me." There it was. The tone in his voice drove you insane. Something about the timber in his voice sent shockwaves of pleasure straight through you. He knows it does too. You still can't help but do anything and everything he asks of you. Once he pulls out his bedroom voice you are putty in his hands and you wouldn't have it any other way.

You cuddle up closer to him and he says, "Yeah, just like that. Being with you, holding you like this, it's so nice. You make me so happy." You know that he genuinely means it but, you also know that he is riling you up on purpose. As he talks to you in his deep voice he starts to gently run his fingers up and down your body.

He continues, "You know what else makes me happy? This bed; God this bed is so cozy and warm." He continues to gently caress your body.

You let out a small moan as he sweeps over a particularly sensitive place. He smiles knowing his plan is working. He wants you all hot and bothered for him. He loves making you feel good.

Feigning ignorance he asks, "Does that feel good baby? When I just drag my fingers down your arm like that, and if I just kiss you here?" He kisses a sensitive spot on your neck that has you moaning. He leaves a trail of kisses along your neck.

"God, it feels so amazing just to touch you," he says with his lips against your neck, "Just this, feeling your skin on my lips. That's all I need. Unless you want more." Finally, he reveals that this was his plan all along.

He starts to pull away from your neck. You hold him closer again letting out a pathetic, "No, please."

He chuckles at your begging. Teasing you by saying, "Oh, so you do want more? You know I'll give you whatever you want, baby." He continues to kiss your neck even giving it a few licks and sucking beautiful purple hickies into your skin for him to admire later. You keep moaning at his actions. His voice alone has you in such a trance. Your body is begging for more of anything he will give you but, you know you want him somewhere specific. You feel yourself getting wetter the more he praises and worships you with his deep, melodic, voice.

"I'll never get enough of that," he says, "I love how soft your lips are and I love the way your body responds to me. It's so cute how your back arches as I slowly make my way down your body and how you let out that soft little moan when you want me to keep going. Why don't I tell you all the things I love about you as I trail my fingers down to where I know you want me to be?"

"Yes, please," you whine, "Please Felix. I need more. I need you to touch me."

He hums in satisfaction before continuing, "Let's see I love the way you kiss. I love the way your lips taste, the way your body shivers when I gently bite your neck like this." He bites down harshly on your neck. Your body does indeed shiver and you let out a long moan. His hands are taking their sweet time getting to where you need them most. He takes his time squeezing at your hips and helping you undress. He loves to savor the moments when he just gets to worship and praise you like this. He knows you love his voice and he is intent on using it to let you know just how beautiful he thinks you are.

"You're so fucking perfect, baby," he says now that he finally has you perfectly exposed to him, "I want to explore every inch of you with my lips and fingers and tongue. I really just want to focus on you tonight, baby. Is that okay?"

"Yes, Felix. I love it when you worship me," you answer.

"Good," he says, "I love your body so much, baby. I want to kiss your neck, your collarbone, your perfect tits." He leaves a hot, wet kiss on each place he mentions. His hands have gone back to softly stroking the skin of your thighs. You felt like you could cum from his words alone but, you still craved more.

"Look at you," he says chuckling, "God, I love how you respond to my touch. Look you're getting goosebumps everywhere. Are you cold, baby?"

You shake your head unable to form real words between your moans as he is now finally rubbing ever so softly at your clit. "Okay good," he says with a knowing smirk, "Must just be a reaction to feeling me rubbing my fingers along your clit and kissing you all over. I think you like it when it's like this. You like it when you have my full attention." You nod your head in agreement. His fingers and lips feel so good and his voice makes you feel dizzy.

"I know you do," he continues, "You deserve this and so much more. Where else deserves to be played with? Your lips are begging to be kissed and so are your tits and your thighs." He finally moves his head down to kiss and lick at your thighs. His hand also continues to rub gentle circles on your clit.

You moan loudly and he responds, "Good girl, I love it when you moan for me. Tell me all the places you want my fingers. Tell me where you want my tongue."

You moan out, "My pussy, please, please, please. I want you to eat me out, my love."

He lets out a moan of his own, "Your pussy, of course, baby let's see here. Oh, your pussy is so pretty, baby. I love the way you taste. You are so perfect. I love the little noises you make keep going, baby. Moan more for me." He says each sentence during breaks from devouring you like a man starved. It feels so good to have his tongue on you. You move your hands to his hair and squeeze your legs together whenever he does something you especially like.

"I love how you squeeze your thighs around my head as I slowly run my tongue along your pussy," he says during another break. This time he adds his fingers to your soaking entrance. He moves them at a decent pace making sure to curl up so he can hit your sweet spot. This way he can still pleasure you while taking breaks from sucking and licking at your clit to whisper into your ear.

"I love spoiling you," he growls into your ear, "You got me so hard I'm absolutely throbbing. You're so sexy like this for me I love eating you out." He continues to fuck his fingers into you and lick at your clit.

"Yeah, grip my hair tighter baby. Show me where you want me to be," he says. You grip his hair tighter and move his head to the perfect angle.

He stops one more time to ask, "Does that feel good? Can you handle all of this? My fingers and my tongue?" He then goes back to what he was doing. You could just respond with moans and broken cries of agreement. You were getting so close and he knew it. He doubled down his efforts no longer taking breaks to talk to you. Instead, he was very intent on helping finish you off.

After a few more seconds you came loudly, "Yes, baby! I am cumming! Ah, that feels so good!" After a while, you came back down to reality to see the love of your life with a dopey smile. Your juices and his saliva all over his chin and he was still rock hard.

"Did you enjoy that, my love," he asks.

"Of course, would you like me to help you now," you reply.

"That's alright, love," he says, "This was about taking care of you right now. I can take care of myself later. Let's go get cleaned up and then we can have dinner yeah?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Not gonna lie I was struggling to find the will to write. It was such a long day and I didn't want to do it but, then I came across this ASMR audio on the orange YouTube and it was PERFECT for this fic and for Felix. Thank you to people who suggested some other idols for this day but, this was too good to pass up. Let me know if you want the link to the audio if you wanna listen to it while you read this.

#kinktober 2023 #kinktober #x reader #k pop smut #felix x reader #lee felix #felix stray kids #felix smut #stray kids smut

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forlorn-crows · 6 months

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i shared a mount/ifrit fantasy with @miasmaghoul today and my brain wouldnt stop thinking about it. so here's a lil nocturnal nastiness for you. @askingforthesun i said i should write more mount/if so . . .

cw for slight somno but it's of the wet dream variety and ifrit doesnt mind indulging in the side effects of mountain's filthy subconscious fantasies

Ifrit’s roused from a deep, dreamless sleep with two lanky arms locked around him and a stiffy pressed to the small of his back. He can feel Mountain’s breath on his neck—his drool too, where his lips are pressed half-parted just under his hairline.

Ifrit stirs. Mountain’s arms don’t give in the slightest. If anything, Ifrit feels him tighten a little more, rolling his hips all slow against his ass.

“Mount?” the fire ghoul whispers into the dark. He rubs his hands against his face, waking up a little more. The only response he gets is a stuttered movement of his hips again and a huffed moan.

Completely asleep then. Asleep and clearly having a nasty dream.

“Fffuu—” Mountain mumbles. A deep sigh follows as his cock kicks against Ifrit’s back. He has to resist a groan. The earth ghoul always sounds so pretty like this, vulnerable and soft as he is in his sleep. He moans again, high, feminine, and breathy, and the noise goes straight to Ifrit’s gut.

He should really wake Mountain up. Or pry his arms off of him, separate himself from the slumbering, horny giant.

But sometimes, Ifrit is a selfish ghoul. It’s not like Ifrit’s doing anything to him. Who’s to say he isn’t also asleep, subconsciously affected by Mountain’s nocturnal fantasies? None of this decision to indulge is motivated by his rapidly chubbing-up dick, not at all.

So he tells himself.

Mountain shifts against his back, long arms drifting down to his middle. His fingers twitch against Ifrit’s stomach, ticklishly teasing just above his waistband.

“Hh–oh,” Mountain breathes. He noses a little further up into the fire ghoul’s hair, snuffling loudly. He must smell something he likes because he whines after, thrusting three times in quick succession.

Lucifer have mercy, Ifrit begs in his mind, biting his lip to keep quiet.

“Mmpf—fu’ me,” the earth ghoul mumbles. “S’ good.”

Ifrit squeezes his eyes shut. Why do you have to talk in your sleep, too, you big beast, he curses internally.

Mountain curls in on himself hard, letting out a full-voiced moan. Ifrit can feel a wet spot now rubbing against the sliver of exposed skin on his lower back. Clearly whatever he’s dreaming about must be good to make him so wet.

“Huh-uh . . . Zephfffuu,” Mountain whines, hand roaming dangerously close to Ifrit’s now fully-hard dick.

Satanas, he’s dreaming about Zephyr . . . fucking him? Ifrit swallows a groan, hips bucking a little of their own accord.

For the next few minutes, Mountain continues in much the same way: humping against Ifrit’s ass, huffing random words, groaning and whining into Ifrit’s hair. It’s maddening—how he sounds, how he feels, how he smells. Juniper and sage wafting over him in heavy waves, peppered with the salty tang of his arousal and pre.

Ifrit’s just about to pull his arms away and escape to the bathroom (he swears he is) when Mountain’s hand slips all the way down, and he fully gropes Ifrit through his boxers.

“Shit,” he hisses. His eyes roll back, mouth falling open in a silent moan. Ifrit has to grip the sheets to keep from closing his hand over Mountain’s and forcing him to pull at him hard and fast. If Mountain wakes up now he’s absolutely going to fail at playing possum.

“Gon’—yeah,” Mountain mutters. “Cum . . . ‘lease.”

Oh no, Ifrit thinks. Fuck, is he really gonna . . .?

Mountain’s hips stutter, and Ifrit can feel it jerk between his cheeks. The hand over his cock strokes him slowly once, twice, as if moving through water. He holds his breath, knows Mountain’s going to blow his load in his sleep right against his back.

And fuck if he doesn’t throb just thinking about it.

Mountain grunts, hand nearly squeezing Ifrit in a death grip. He squeaks at the pressure, feels a hot glob of precum well up at the slit as he arches into it.

“Cu—cummm, fuckfuu—” The earth ghoul tenses behind him and cums with a shuddering sigh, cum soaking through his underwear and coating the small of Ifrit’s back.

Fucking seven hells fucking shit—

“Hah, fu—wha’ . . .oh oh shit.” Confusion seeps into his voice, thick from sleep and breathless from orgasm. If his movements are anything to go by, Ifrit would guess cumming woke him up, still rutting against him half-heartedly as he is. The hand over his dick squeezes again, but not so tight. More like a grounding touch, an attempt to locate where his limbs went while he was asleep.

“If—oh Lucifer,” he groans, shifting uncomfortably against the mess in his boxers. “Fuck, you—”

“Are you awake now?” Ifrit asks in the smallest voice possible.

“Yea,” Mountain coughs, “yes.”

“What were you dreaming about?”

Mountain stutters, voicing his jumbled thoughts. “I . . . did I . . ?”

“You did, and please for the love of Lucifer finish me off,” the fire ghoul hisses.

“Finish you—oh.” Ifrit grabs Mountain’s forearm and cements his hand to his dick, thrusting up into his loose fist. “Fuck, Ifrit, sorry,” he rumbles.

“S’okay, please,” Ifrit begs. He arches again, nudging the top of his head against Mountain’s collarbone. “Make me cum, Mount, please make me cum.”

“Shit, okay, okay—”

Ifrit helps him slip his hand inside his boxers, letting out the most wretched moan when his thick fingers wrap all the way around his cock. Another bead of pre bubbles up, and Mountain spreads it around the head on the upstroke.

“Faster unholy shit please,” Ifrit begs. “Can’t fucking take—shit, yesyesyes.” Mountain speeds his hand, matching the frantic tone in the fire ghoul’s voice.

Ifrit really can’t fucking take it. His breaths turn to feverish panting, muscles tensing as he hurtles towards the edge Mountain’s unknowingly kept him on. He’s going to bust embarrassingly quickly.

“You’re so warm,” Mountain breathes, almost reverently. His hand flies over Ifrit’s dick. “So big . . . you gonna cum?”

His balls draw up at just the suggestion, and Ifrit cries out that yes, he’s gonna fucking cum all over Mountain’s hand after he just creamed himself in his boxers while he was asleep and almost groped Ifrit to horny death.

Ifrit muffles his shout into the pillow as he shoots hot and sticky all over his stomach and Mountain’s sleep-warm fingers, cumming so hard and fast he nearly sees stars. The earth ghoul groans into his hair, stroking him until he twitches from overstimulation.

“Sorry,” he whispers again, removing his hand and wiping it on the sheets.

“You,” Ifrit barks a dazed laugh, “you have an iron grip when you’re asleep. What’dyou dream about?”

Mountain snuggles closer, wrapping his arms back around the other ghoul. Ifrit knows it’s a trap, knows they’ll both fall asleep without cleaning up the more comfortable they get post-orgasm.

“Dunno,” Mountain yawns. Yep, big guy’ll start snoring soon, Ifrit’s sure of it.

“Said Zeph’s name once or twice,” Ifrit yawns back. Damn him.

“Hmm. Riding me, I think,” he muses. He yawns again. “Wanted them to cum on my tummy,” he mumbles, sighing deeply as he tucks his face back against the nape of Ifrit’s neck.

The fire ghoul grumbles, sleep already dragging him under. “Fuck that’s hot.”

#ficlet #the band ghost #ghost fanfic #fanfic #the band ghost fanfic #ifrit ghoul #mountain ghoul #zephyr ghoul #(mentioned)#cw somnophilia #(slight)#mountain/ifrit #ifrit/mountain #i wrote this in 2 hrs dont look at me

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allbark-no-bite · 1 year

Text

who are you mad at.

topper thornton x reader (wc: 3.4k)

summary: Topper doesn’t appreciate John B’s friendship with his girlfriend. sometimes all it takes is a blowjob and a little bit of forgiveness

warnings: 18+ smut, blow jobs, mentions of blood, over possessive boyfriend

author’s note: not me actually writing something with plot lol. i cannot believe all of the support i got on my last post, thank you all! i’m know that this isn’t Rafe lol, but i hope you’ll all give it a shot!

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As a little girl, I could never understand why the sheriff and the judge always drank coffee on my grandads front porch. It took me a few years to realize that it was probably for the same reason that the judge's grandson was always so sweet on me.

Politics in a small town like Kildare run deep on family ties and favors. It's all about who's blood is running through who and who's bed you wake up in when the sun comes up. As my best friend Sarah has often laughed about, it's all about how you know or who you'll blow.

Speaking of which, Topper's zipping up the fly on his jeans, fingers fumbling as he misses the hole for the button and has to try again. His cheeks are noticeably flushed, blue eyes distracted as he fidgets with his shaggy but nevertheless, neat crop of hair. No one would expect anything less of Figure Eight's golden boy.

I can't help but smile, biting my lip in an effort to conceal it from where I'm knelt on the floor. He's stupidly pretty. Blue eyes, straight nose, chin that dimples when he smiles.

He must feel my gaze on him because he catches my eye as he's buckling his belt and looks back at me. "What?" he laughs, breaking out into a bashful smile that matches my own.

"I don't know," I say, still smiling, and accept the hand he offers to pull me to my feet.

I don't remember when exactly Topper and I stopped being friends and started actually dating. It all happened so naturally that I don't know if we ever really distinguished between the two. One day we were just friends hanging out, getting drunk at the Boneyard, and then the next week he's kissing me at a party for everyone to see, like it wasn't a big deal that my best friend was kissing me. In some ways I guess it wasn't. It had never occurred to me that I would date anyone else. Sure Topper had dated Sarah for a while, but even that was short lived, and he had always been very upfront with me about it.

"Just you, I guess," I propose, grinning wider as he circles his arms around my waist, pulling me into him.

He's dressed up nicer than usual this evening for the Carrera's anniversary party in a billowy blue and white button up and khakis. The light colors pale in comparison to his bronzed skin, a likely permanent feature that the Carolina sun has given him.

"Really?" he hums, pecking my lips as my head tilts back to look up at him. My lips purse pliantly in response. Topper brushes aside the hair from my shoulder and hums, immediately pleased with the amount of exposed skin that he is rewarded with. The tank top that I'm wearing gives him the opportunity to ghost his lips along my shoulder until he settles on placing a kiss to the crevice of my neck.

My fingers curl into the brunette roots at the base of his neck at the attention. "It's not often I get you to myself."

With Topper's mom being the overbearing mother that she was, and the pressure that came with being the Judge's grandson, it was hard to get him out of their sights. However, if either bothered him, he never confessed such qualms to me. Such reasons are also why I think he was more privy to the political concept of our relationship than I was.

I remember being sixteen when a neighbor called the cops on one of Kelce's parties well after midnight. Of course no one knew this until Shoupe and a couple of his deputies showed up, sirens blaring. Most definitely a little buzzed and close to sobbing in the backseat of Shoupe's patrol car, I couldn't understand why Topper was so calm at the time. He just kept repeating, 'Don't worry about it, baby' and 'It'll all be fine'. At the time I hadn't noticed we were the only ones not in handcuffs. I thought for sure I was going to spent the night in jail and then my parents were going to kill me the next morning. He obviously knew something I didn't because twenty minutes later the patrol car was pulling into my driveway, Judge Thornton waiting on the porch with my grandad to take Topper home. The three of them shook hands and not a word was uttered about the incident again.

Topper dips his head to capture my mouth again, his teeth catching on the pout of my bottom lip.

Pressed to the front of my body, I feel his dick twitch in interest. I'm half compelled to drop to my knees and suck him off a second time just for the hell of it. The only problem is that he's got lipstick smeared on his mouth and his shirt is wrinkled and he's going to be late.

"Topper—" I begin.

"I know—I know—I know," he stresses, leaning down to kiss behind my ear again and then my cheek. "I'm going, I'm going."

Just when he pulls back and I go to step away, he grabs my face again, drawing my mouth back for another kiss.

"Topper—"

"I love you," he mumbles quickly after what is probably his hundredth kiss. "Okay. I'm going. I'll see you in a minute."

I watch him slip out the back door of the pool house we'd escaped to momentarily. I look over at the clock. What was supposed to be a quick five minute make out had turned into nearly half an hour. Thankfully, no one had been sent to look for us — namely my friends. Besides Kie and Sarah, the boys were off treasure hunting with Big John.

With all of the craziness going on in the past week, I was glad for the occasion to celebrate and enjoy the party. The evening air is cool and people are chattering excitedly, laughing and enjoying drinks. I spot Kie with her parents as I move throughout the crowd and she waves me over with a smile. Once I’m close enough, she latches onto my arm.

“We’ve got to get out of here. Big John was kidnapped, the boys are running off to South America to save him, and my parents won’t let me out of their sight,” she whispers through gritted teeth.

“Shit,” I whisper.

“Yeah, shit,” Kie stresses.

“Okay, okay. Don’t worry, I’m on it.” Turning to her dad with the brightest smile I can muster, I link arms with Kie. Thankfully, I fit in the with standard of friends Kid’s dad wants her to have, and he seems to be thankful I hang around.

“Hey, Mr. Carrera. I’m just going to steal Kie away for a moment. I promise we’ll be right back!”

He blinks, as if thinking about it for a moment before nodding. “Okay, just stay out of trouble you two.”

“We will!” I take off, dragging her with me as soon as the words leave his mouth. We haul it through throngs of tipsy guests, dodging anyone who might think to stop us.

“Wait!” Kie yelps snagging my arm before we reach the dock. Out of breath, I skid to a stop beside her.

“What—”

“Oh God,” she breathes.

Heart racing with adrenaline, I take another step towards the dock, dragging her along with me. “Kie, whatever it is, we have to go—”

“It’s John B. He’s talking to Topper.”

Straight ahead of us, I can make out John B’s wild head of hair and dingy yellow shirt. Him being the taller of the two, I glimpse the familiar white of Topper’s shirt just in front of him. Their voices are escalating by the moment, and I can make out the sound of Topper saying, “I want to know why you’re looking for my fucking girlfriend—”

“Oh God,” I repeat this time.

“(y/n), you need to go,” Kie stresses.

I take off before she even finishes her sentence, not even excusing myself as I dash past unsuspecting guests. People have started to stare and a sizable crowd has formed around them.

“— just because she’s your girlfriend doesn’t mean she can’t have friends without you.”

Topper scoffs. “Oh I see. This is about your little treasure hunting bullshit. So you think you can just run around with my girlfriend, do whatever the hell you want with her without me knowing?”

John B shoves him backwards, hard. “That’s not true!”

“John B, stop!” I shout, shoving my way to the front of the crowd as Topper catches himself. But it’s too late, John B is already grabbing the front of Topper’s shirt and yanking him to his feet.

The thing is, it’s not that Topper can’t defend himself, he’s more than capable of holding his own. It’s that he won’t. He won’t ruin his reputation in front of half the town. All he does is sneer, breathing hard as his blue eyes glint with hate. Topper had never liked my friends, only tolerated them for my sake — up until now.

“You think I don’t know?” Topper jeers. “All you’ve ever wanted is to get with (y/n).”

That’s all it takes for John B to swing. I scream as Topper stumbles backwards to the ground. Chaos erupts around us. I see Mr. Carrera hoist Topper to his feet, and my heart clenches at the sight. Blood is leaking from his nose and a dark rouge colored ring has already begun to form around his eye. When I move forward to help him, John B grabs my arm.

“We have to go. Now.”

My feet planted into the ground, I glance down at his split knuckles, and then back at Topper. Who do I choose? My best friend or my boyfriend?

Voice strained, I turn to John B. “I can’t just leave—”

“HELLO!! Now or never, guys!” JJ is on the dock with Kiara, and Sarah. Pope and Cleo are already in the boat.

“Go!” John B urges, shoving me in front of him. With one last look over my shoulder at Topper’s bloody face, I take off running down the dock with John B behind me.

—

I know he's mad before he even yanks the passenger side door open and drags me by my elbow to the car. Although his scowl and matching black eye are pretty heavy indicators, it's the stalk from the drivers side and around the front of the Jeep that tips me off.

"Get in the car, (y/n)," he barks without so much as a second glance at me.

John B and Pope glance at each other apprehensively. JJ and Kiara share similar looks.

With the passenger side door now open and Topper waiting for me to march myself over there, I hesitantly stand my ground. Anxiously, I swallow back the swell in my throat. "Go home, Top."

He throws his hands up in exasperation and shakes his head. "This—this is fucking ridiculous. Get in the car, (y/n)."

When I don't make a move either way, Cleo speaks up. "Leave her alone, man. She ain't gotta go nowhere wit' you." Her thick accent rings out loud and clear, but Topper pretends as though he doesn't hear her.

Having enough of our back and forth game, Topper strides over and grabs a firm hold of my elbow, intending to move me himself. Although I take a reflexive step backwards, I don't fight him off. At the same time, John B steps forward, ready to give Topper a black eye to match the other.

"John B, no," I immediately blurt out, twisting as best I can in Topper's grasp. "It's fine. It's fine." Sighing I turn back to Topper. "Okay," I relent. "Let's go."

We drive in silence for a while, waiting for the other to speak. I'm half hoping he won't and we'll make the entirety of the trip without uttering a word. Across the seat, we make eye contact and I scowl at him for the split second our eyes meet. Then I turn away and cross my arms with an air of defiance.

When I glance sideways at him, his jaw is clenched, eyes fixed on the road. I know him well enough to know that he's weighing out his options on what to say, determining what kind of conversation we're going to have.

He opens his mouth, starting to say something, then closes it and drags a hand over his jaw. "How many times did I call you?"

I shrug. "I don't know—"

"God dammit, (y/n). How many times did I call you!??" He slams his hand down on the console this time.

"I DON'T KNOW, TOPPER."

I do. Twenty-seven. He called twenty-seven times in addition to the missed texts and multiple question marks. I don't admit that though because it's easier to scream back at him than to admit that I was purposely avoiding his calls.

"You have got to stop hanging around with the wrong people. Start making better decisions." He's lowered his voice to a more appropriate volume now.

I glance over at him, a narrowed look on my face. "Who are you mad at, Topper?" I question. "Because I don't think it's me."

In the drivers seat, he continues to stare ahead at the road. "It's always fucking John B, isn't it. You always have to go to his rescue."

I set my jaw, knowing where his mind is and where this is going. "I didn't sleep with him, Topper."

Topper scoffs as if to make light of the situation. "Oh, for sure. You really expect me to believe that?"

"It's not like that. He's my friend."

We pull into his driveway, and Topper finally turns to me after parking the car. "Yeah? Well I'm your friend too, (y/n). You ever fucking think about that? Why do you think you're not sitting in jail right now with the rest of your so called friends?" He jabs a finger into his chest. "Me. Because I care about you!"

My back pressed up against the passenger side door, all I can do is blink in surprise. I'm not used to Topper yelling at me, and I'm not so sure I like it. I'd never thought about it that way before and guilt begins to creep into the pit of my stomach. My eyes suddenly sting and my nose burns with the threat of tears.

"I'm sorry," I whisper barley audible, my voice cracking.

Topper falls back heavily into his seat and sighs, running a hand over his face. Without a word, he gathers his keys from the truck's ignition and steps out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Teary eyed, I watch him take the steps up the porch and pace up and down the length of it while repeatedly running a frustrated hand through his hair. I get out of his truck and walk up the steps after a few minutes. Confident that he's done yelling but unsure of where we stand at the moment, I stop just short of him.

Hands in his pockets, Topper runs his gaze over me from head to toe after coming to a stop in front of me before he emits another heavy sigh and curls his hand around my jaw, forcing me to look upwards at him. "Answer me when I call you, alright?"

Nodding, I swallow under the weight of his hand as his fingers travel down to my throat. His blue eyes are focused and yet lack their usual jubilance. I nearly whine in relief when he leans down to kiss me.

He tastes fresh, like he always does, a mix between peppermint gum and mint toothpaste. The taste resonates within me a type of unspoken forgiveness that I sense is being granted as his other hand presses my body into his. I can feel the rigid outline of his cock through the thin fabric of his shorts, and it sends my heart racing in anticipation.

The thing about Topper is that he's always been able to read me impossibly well, and so when he disconnects our mouths by using the leverage of his hand on my throat to hold me back, he chuckles airily. "Feel me? That's what you do to me, you little tease."

I paw at him, grabbing at the waistband of his shorts to pull his body closer. Topper is nearly a foot taller than me, and I have to crane my neck to look up at him.

"I'm sorry, Top."

He hums, the thumb of his hand moving to tug at the swollen pout of my bottom lip. "Are you? He's only giving me a hard time now, not even allowing me to answer before his thumb slips into my mouth, pressing down on my tongue. "Going to be good for me then?"

The weight of his thumb is so soothingly familiar that I forget to respond in favor of suckling around the digit.

"Baby." He's quick to remind me, drawing his thumb from my mouth and swiping it wetly across my cheek to grip my jaw again.

My flushed cheeks forced into a pout, I nod as much as his hold on me will allow. "Mhm."

Topper glances over his shoulder, briefly surveying the closed blinds of the windows looking out on to the front porch, and then back to me.

"Alright, on your knees, pretty girl."

He doesn't have to ask twice. He's undoing his belt with one experienced hand and gathering a fist full of my hair at the back of my head with the other. Once removed from the confines of his boxers, his cock bobs at the freedom.

If there's one thing myself and multiple other girls in the Outer Banks can attest to, it's that sucking off Topper Thornton is a pleasure. I'd heard the rumors whispered around school even before we started dating. It was weird at the time, having to hear that kind of thing about my best friend, but once we started dating, I understood where they were coming from. With some guys, blowing them is an outright chore, but not Topper. He knows exactly what he's working with and how to use it.

Once again, he's heavy in my mouth. This time in a pleasurably aching way. His tip nudges the back of my throat, and I have to remind myself to relax and breathe through my nose as tears spring to my eyes. He swipes away a stray tear before it can fall.

"There you go, baby. Good."

He doesn't buck up into my throat, forcing me to gag and sputter as I try to accommodate his length — at least not this time. Topper just fists my hair and rocks slowly back and forth, eyes rolling as my throat clenches around him. My nose nearly digs into his pelvis by the time he's satisfied that his cock is nestled as far as it can get into the heat of my throat.

With the makeshift ponytail, Topper pulls almost all of the way out of my mouth before guiding himself back in. Each time the mushroomed tip kisses the back of my throat, he pulls his cock out of my mouth again. All it takes is a few good strokes before he's spilling into my mouth, moaning while I struggle to take him all. He pulls out when he's finished.

"Swallow," he instructs, tilting my jaw back so that I have but one option. Not that I would argue with him anyhow. I'm used to how he tastes, salty and strangely satisfying, His hot release slides down my throat. At first I would have wrinkled my nose at the thought of such a thing, but strangely, I've become accustomed to the taste. It's uniquely Topper, as odd as that sounds.

He helps me to my feet and plants another slow kiss to my swollen lips. I keen at the attention, my brain feeling sluggish and wishing he would just wrap his large hand around my throat again.

"I love you," he finally murmurs, pressing a find kiss to my forehead; a stark contrast to his manhandling moments before.

"Love you too."

Around us, the porch goes dark for a split second and I bolt into Topper's arms before the lights flicker back on. This repeats a few more times; long enough for us to realize that his dad is likely on the other side of the front door.

Topper groans. "Shit."

"Shit."

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