#paradox live smut

[mera-k1]

HIII I just read the smutty cuddling hc and I can't help but ask the same for ramuda & cozmez?? if it's possible, of course

hey!! ofc! hope you enjoy em♡

Smutty Cuddling pt 2

Ramuda, cozmez x gn!reader

-smut

-ramuda is a fan of cuddling, of course. who wouldn't be! he never has any ulterior motives during cuddling though. usually, it'll be your doing when it gets more.. suggestive...

-as the small spoon, it's easy to trail your hands down to the waistband of his pants and sneak your hand in to tease him.

-there's usually two ways he handles teasing. sometimes, he lets it happen and lets you have your fun or he's a brat about it. playfully denying your advances to try to tease him and teasing you right back.

-he's such a little shit... but he'll eventually give in to you. for someone who's affiliated with chuoku, he has a surprisingly low will to resist you when you start physically teasing him.. especially during a cuddle where he can't help but comply with your wishes.

-it's very hard to get anything to escalate during a cuddle with nayuta. he usually initiates cuddles in order to get the physical affection that he occasionally craves from you.

-the farthest it will go is the occasional touchiness from your end that he will sometimes return. usually hands going under each others shirts to give the other a teasing touch or kisses up to their jawline and whatnot.

-it doesn't go farther than that most times as, nayuta wants to cuddle rather than fuck. he'll let you know if he's in the mood but other than that, cuddling is what he wants at that moment.

-kanata always gives you a sharp glare if he feels your hands wandering or if you get a little too teasing for his liking. it's not as if he's opposed to it but he is a little strict with it.

-if nayuta is around, hard no on escalating it. if he's super tired too, he'll stop you without much of a word. don't take it personally! he loves you just the same but he's just not good with words.

-he escalates it very slowly when he does try though. usually just letting a hand wander under your shirt while he places soft kisses along your neck. slowly but surely.. so you'll have to have some patience.

#♡ fics ♡ #hypmic #hypmic x reader #hypmic smut #paradox live x reader #paradox live smut #paralive x reader #ramuda smut #ramuda amemura x reader #kanata yatonokami x reader #kanata smut #nayuta smut #nayuta yatonokami x reader

[dollwrites]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!hostess!reader, public play, frottage, virginity loss ( reader ), suggested size kink ( petite!reader ), dubcon in the end, forced overstimulation, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day thirty [ iori suiseki + virginity loss ] // three of three very special fics for very special people!! @meloguro, I love you so much baby!!

Iori was teasing you.

he enjoyed the flustered expression overtake your visage when he’d first pulled you on to his lap, and now he was just having fun with it.

“Someone’s going to s— see—“ you protested in a soft voice at first, when he’d guided your hands to his groin and allowed you to feel the outline of his cock through the fabric.

but he’d laughed, and pulled you closer, so you could hear him over the loud thumping of the music. “This place is too loud, and way too full,” he assured you with a devious grin, “no one will ever know. What am I paying you for, anyways, if not to tend to me like a good, little girl?”

while you could’ve protested that— explained that you’d only applied for and been hired to be a hostess in his club, you had been distracted when he used your delicate and inexperienced hands, pushing them beneath his linens to wrap around his cock and fish it out. you squeaked once it sprang free, and jabbed upwards in the air between the two of you, shyly attempting to avert your gaze. both of your hands flee to your face, fingers covering your eyes as your palms press to your heated cheeks. you’d never seen a naked man in person before, and you weren’t expecting the first time to be your boss. still, as much as you tried to hide your shame, you peeked through the cracks in your fingers to look at it again.

Iori was grinning at your display of embarrassment, but he seemed more than comfortable to be sitting there, knees spread wide with his little hostess perched on his lap, cock hard between their stomachs. “You like what you see, sweetheart?” he teases, before reaching up to grasp one of your wrists again, prying your hand from your face, “Come on, don’t be so shy. I need to feel your soft hands on me. You don’t mind, right?” guiding one hand to his cock, he curls your fingers around his girth, so you can feel just how hard and warm he is. the sensation of your velvety, gentle touch must’ve been a jarring juxtaposition to what his usually is, because Iori lets out a low moan, and tilts his head back against the wall as soon as he feels it. “Attagirl. Feel me…”

your eyes widened. you watched his Adam’s Apple jump with each sound of pleasure he made as you timidly began to explore the length of his cock with your fingers. most of his moans were lost in the music, but you could tell by the twitching in his throat that he was making them. your cheeks were on fire with a blush, and you stare down at his cock, instead, as a way to ensure that you didn’t make eye contact with him while your hand was between his legs.

you were in awe of it all. from the intimidating size to the pinky, flared tip and the vein-etched shaft. down to the well-kept base and trimmed, dark bed of hair. the faint scent of his arousal tickled your nose, and sent a wave of lust over you. you ran your fingers back up, running a soft pad over his slit and his cock jumped in response. Iori tensed, and chuckled thickly, his eyes snapping open to watch you play. “Found my sensitive spots already, did you?” he grinned, before his eyes flickered over your cocktail dress, the way it clings to your body, and one of his hands wraps around the small of your back, urging you closer. “But I don’t just want your hands, little hostess. C’mere…”

“I—I—!” your free hand presses to his chest in a sudden flurry, your eyes wide and uncertain as you look up at him, a bashful expression coating your features. “I’ve never—“ chewing on your lip, you choke out the words. “Done this before. I-I’m sorry.”

for a moment, Iori said nothing, his palm still flat against the small of your back, but there was a playful smile that grew on his features before he asked, amused. “Did you think I didn’t know that already?”

“H-huh?!”

Iori guffaws, pulling your lower half even closer. the skirt of your short dress bunches up around your hips, revealing your fabric cotton panties, and you whimper in response to being so suddenly exposed, now pressing against his chest with both hands instead. “When I first interviewed you, I knew you were too innocent for this place. Too sweet to have done anything like this job before. I knew you had to be a virgin, too, because the way you squirmed when I so much as allowed my gaze to wander…” as if emphasizing his point, Iori’s eyeline travels lower, over your cleavage as your chest heaves with nervous breath, and down to your panties, where his brow quirks deviously. “But, the way you looked at me. That cute, little curious sparkle in your eyes. I knew you wanted to find yourself right here, in this very spot. At my mercy.” his free hand slides just underneath you, the very tips of his fingers teasing your slit through the damp cotton, and you grip his collar tightly, clinging to him as he stimulates you.

he chuckles again, feeling you soak through even further, and looks back to your face, grin brimming with dastardly intent. “I would ask you if I was wrong, but you’re making a mess of your own panties, sweetheart. That’s how badly you want me right now.”

“Don’t look…” you murmur sheepishly, attempting to squeeze your thighs together, but Iori was already hooking his fingers around the fabric and pulling it aside, exposing your slick to the club air. “Iori!”

“Hmm?” he’s teasing you again, you can hear it in his sing-song baritone. “I can’t help it, little hostess. I want to see your cute pussy lips slot around my cock. Go on, rub on it a little bit.”

he had you in the right position for it. with your lower half hovering close to his hard cock as it lay against his stomach, you nibble on your lip, staring down at it for a moment. you weren’t really sure how to give him what he wanted, but you also couldn’t deny that you wanted to feel him, too.

uncertainly, you lowered yourself until your sensitive core pressed flush to his cock. your breath caught in your throat, and you looked up at his face. he was watching the join of your bodies, too, and he grabbed both of your hips with a husky, “Little more…” and began to rock them back and forth. your netherlips did exactly as he said they would, and draped over his girth, as if hugging him close, and as he started to buck forward to meet the rhythm he was moving you in, his swollen tip began to kiss at your sensitive clit. “‘S good, drench me good, sweetheart.” Iori grunts, his thin brows furrowing. you weren’t used to seeing him so concentrated. usually, he seemed playful and happy, but in this moment, as he rubs his cock between your sticky folds, he’s anything but. there’s a faint, red tint to his cheeks, and his tiers are barely parted as he starts to pant, but his eyes are fiery and focused, watching the head batter your poor button. “Fuck, your little pussy is so warm.”

it was embarrassing, but you didn’t want him to stop praising you. it was getting you off, feeling the strength in his hands as he drags you over his cock as if you weighed nothing at all, and the urgent pushing of his hips, as if he were desperately trying to bury himself in your virgin cunt and live there forever. you close your eyes, squirming and clutching at him. each and every time he prods your clit, you swoon and twitch, and leak more arousal on to his cock. “Iori—“ you moan, and try to hold on as your climax approaches, “I-I’m going to…!”

“Not yet, you’re not.” Iori murmurs softly, and stops your movements. when your eyelids fly open again, you stare down at him, flustered at the sudden halt. you had been almost there, you could feel it, but he’d pulled you back from the ledge. he’s looking at your face, grinning breathlessly, and he murmurs. “I want to feel you cum from the inside, baby girl. Do you want that, too?”

you considered protesting. you were nervous, well aware that he would pop your cherry and it would hurt like hell, but you were teetering on the edge of orgasm. and right now, you just wanted to reach that high. so you nod, and bite your lip.

“Mm—Mhm..!”

“Good girl.” Iori purrs, pushing you back just enough to be able to reach a hand between your bodies and grab his cock at the base, guiding it to split your folds instead of simply grinding into them. he teases your entrance for a moment, testing your elasticity and your willingness to stretch for him. “‘S gonna be a tight, tight fit.” he mutters to himself, and a bead of sweat pearls at his temple.

you flinch, feeling his tip trying to force you open, and whine and shut your eyes tightly, but it isn’t long before you feel his lips on yours, and hear his voice, feeling the heat of his breath with every syllable.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart. Look at me when I take you.”

obediently, your eyelids fluttered open, and you’re staring directly into his gaze when you do. he chuckles a bit, pleased, and nods. “There we go. Just like that. I want to watch you fall in love with me.”

there’s an undeniable arrogance in his voice that might’ve been irritating if it hadn’t been true, because when his cock wormed into you, and the sensations exploded throughout your body, it was as if you’d melted on the spot for him. the two of you moan in unison at the feeling of him stretching you open and your walls fluttering madly around the intruder. his grin only widens, seeing your eyes sparkle in adoration and shock the very moment he grasps your hip and pulls you down to sit flush on him, giving you no choice but to take him hilt deep for your first time. though you cried out at the intensity of the pressure in your belly, you only gazed into his eyes, dreamily.

“You like the way that feels, huh?” Iori taunts you, rubbing your hip with his thumb, guiding your body in a slow oscillation whilst he thrusts forward to meet the movements, allowing you to feel every inch throbbing as he moves. shallow, deep, full. shallow, deep, full. you nod, speechless and needy, your legs trembling. “Taking your first cock, riding it?” his breath shudders, rolling his head on his shoulders as he thoroughly enjoys your tightness, “Mm, I know you do. I can feel it in the way you clench around me, baby girl. You’re so damn sensitive. You’re already so close.”

he was right, and you knew that, because your stomach was already tied in knots. you were already squirming and trying to relieve the pressure in your belly by bouncing on him harder, and faster, but that only intensified everything. you were going to cum for the first time, wrapped around your boss’ cock and you could do nothing but ride it out, unraveling and whining his name in hardly coherent babbles. you collapse against his chest, face buried in the fabric of his shirt. it smells of his intoxicating cologne. you struggle to breathe, your sensitivity turned up to one hundred, shaking as you stop your movements, and still on his lap.

“Aw, you poor thing.” Iori croons, shifting you on his lap. every movement coaxed a pleading whimper from your throat, and you tried desperately to keep him from moving you too much. he was still hard and deep inside you, but your spongy walls twitched and spasmed to the point of aching. “Already finished?” when you nod, he leans forward to kiss your temple, “Well, then just hang on. I’m not done with you yet, baby.” as he says this, you feel both of his hands on the small of your back, fingers interlocking to hold you in place as he starts to thrust his hips upward, suddenly plowing into you at a furious, hungry pace that has you crying out and trying to reach for your poor, battered cunt. he was, unfortunately, holding you too tightly. pinning you to him, and he chuckles hoarsely at your struggle, smearing his lips over your cheek and towards your mouth as he growls low and excited, “Mm, you just feel too good, little hostess. Fuck, I’m not going to stop until I’m completely satisfied off your body.” it wasn’t malicious, but you knew you’d be aching for days as tears well up in your eyes, and he slams himself home in your guts over and over. “Gonna watch your pretty, little legs try not to give out while you’re serving tables after I’ve fucked the shit out of you, my cute little virgin.”

#iori suiseki #iori x reader #Iori x you #Iori smut #iori suiseki x reader #iori suiseki x you #Iori suiseki smut #paradox live x you #paralive smut #paradox live smut #paralive x reader #paradox live #paralive #paradox live x reader

[seizingthesky]

REQUEST: Hajun/Fem!Reader who is inexperienced but wants to learn. FOR: @dogdays15

Thank you for requesting this!! It was so fun to work on. ALSO. Apologies for how long it took I really am so sorry. I hope it was worth the wait though!!!! @_@ Hajun our most beloved. This got really long MY BAD I like to ramble. Also I hope this isn't cringe I'm a lil rusty when it comes to smut

NSFW UNDER THE CUT.

As cruel as it might be, when you first confided your lack of sexual experience to Hajun, he had a big, stupid grin on his face. You could tell instantly that he was plotting something in that head of his.

When he saw how eager you were to learn, however...

He really can't help but tease you. Are you that eager to please him? How cute! He won't keep you waiting any longer, so don't pout so much.

Contrary to his sadistic and teasing nature, Hajun would be gentle and careful with you the first time you had sex. The last thing he wants to do is actually hurt you, whether physically or mentally, so he'll set aside his rougher tendencies for your sake.

The first thing he'd do is ask you to strip for him. It's no fun if he does all the work, right? Besides, you were the one who wanted to learn! Although, if you take too long, he might have to help you out a little bit.

Once you're unclothed and your body is fully exposed to him, Hajun is focused on your pleasure first and foremost. This isn't his first rodeo, but he doesn't mind taking his time with you. In a way, he's learning too; he's learning what turns you on and what makes you feel good. You're in good hands.

Hajun is good with his hands and knows what he's doing with them. He sits you between his legs and lets his hands explore your body, gently squeezing your breasts and tweaking your nipples just to hear the cute, soft gasps that leave your lips as he does.

If you're the type to get flustered or turned on easily, he'll absolutely make a cheeky comment about how wet you are for him already; he barely did anything! But it's cute, so he doesn't mind one bit.

You're eager to please him, he knows, but he wants you to feel good more than anything else, so next, he'll lay you down and spread your legs so he can get a taste of you. The way you're so sensitive and the moans and whines you're making only make him hungry for more.

Hajun is good at what he does, so it won't take long for you to be trembling under his touch while his tongue does the work.

He's half-tempted to overstimulate you just to hear you beg and cry for him, but he figures that's a bit too mean, so he'll avoid it... this time around. You won't be safe forever, you know.

Seeing you on your knees for him, looking up at him with such wide, eager eyes, drives Hajun crazy. How can you be so cute and innocent, even while doing such a lewd thing?

He tangles a hand in your hair after stroking it while you take him in your mouth. He's full of praise for you- you're so good for him, you're taking him so well. You're almost a natural; it's like you were made for him.

He might have teased you for coming undone so fast, but does he have any right to do so when the same thing happens to him? He just can't help it when you're looking at him like that and your mouth feels so good around him.

Next thing you know, you're back down on the bed with Hajun hovering over you, leaving kisses on your neck, and he slowly prepares you to take him. He won't do anything until you're absolutely ready, no matter how badly he aches to be inside of you.

When you give him the green light, he slowly sinks himself inside of you, a low, guttural groan leaving him as he does. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, perhaps leaving a mark or two (or three or four) as he does.

You cling onto him tightly, and Hajun can't help but wonder if he's a bit of a masochist when he feels your sharp nails dig into his shoulders and back.

He keeps his thrusts slow and steady while he mutters in your ear how good you feel and how perfect you are, how he's so happy he's your first.

By the time everything's said and done and the two of you are spent, drunk off of the lust and love you feel, Hajun doesn't think he could have a more perfect girlfriend than you.

You're tired afterwards, your eyes closed as you try to steady your breathing and racing heartbeat, but the kisses he presses to your face wake you back up.

Hajun teases you, saying that he took it easy on you this time, but now that he knows what you're capable of and how good you are for him, he might have a few tricks up his sleeve next time.

#not sfw #hajun yeon #yeon hajun #paralive #paradox live #paradox live x reader #hajun yeon x reader #paralive smut #paradox live smut #hajun yeon smut #paralive x reader #headcanons

[hipsterteller]

Jealous

Synopsis- "When Aeryn's classmate decided to be very inappropriate her in Bar 4/7 right in front of Naoakira..."

Tagged-nicknames, hickey, moralley grey side, ooc of Saimon Naoakira, heated sex.

Special guest- Letitia (@moonartemisia)

It's around evening when Aeryn stood at Bar 4/7, she's been hearing it a lot by her classmate, Letitia and Anne Faulkner. She wore something comfortable that way she won't get hit on.

She took a deep breath and sighed "You can do this...your classmates invited you here..."

She slowly enter the bar, she saw the BAE and Letitia.

Letitie sees her and smile "Hey! You made it!"

Aeryn clutch onto her backpack as she smile and sat down beside her "I was kinda nervous going here.."

Anne pat her back and spoke "well not anymore, your here now. So what do you want to order?"

"Um...I'll just have a non-alcoholic strawberry drink..." Aeryn respond calmly as she is not a fan of alcoholic drinks even Letitia too as she recalls some fiasco they had.

While waiting for the drink, Aeryn began looking around the interior of the bar, it really did have that jazzy theme as she admire the decoration. Her blue eyes landed on the piano that's resting there along a single flower.

Camellia

This made her recall a conversation of her professor...she frown as she also recall...that his a widower. Before she could shake that thought, someone approach them.

"Well I didn't expect you be here, Aeryn~"

Aeryn groan as the BAE and Letitia knew who it is, they look up to see Takuya. Hajun held his girl close while Allen and Anne are worried for Aeryn since Takuya wrap his arm around her shoulder.

They know Takuya in college as a scum bag due he likes to admit that he enjoy sex even seem to make fun of it.

"How are you?" Aeryn could smell alcoholic drink in his mouth indicating that his drunk as she turn away as she didn't want to answer. Letitia decided to butt in.

"Leave her alone Takuya, don't you see that she has no interest on talking to-"

"Oh shut up whore."

Allen and Anne are shock as Hajun clench his fist wanting to punch him, before things get heated...a glass is put ont he table letting out a loud smack.

"Excuse me, but your disturbing the other costumers and being inappropriate to her."

Aeryn knew that voice very well even the BAE and Letitia had to walk out of the bar but not before paying their drinks, she slowly turn to see Naoakira.

His eyes were glued to Takuya as he slowly remove his arms around her as he stood up "s-shit...sorry man I didn't-"

"Oh? Your sorry? Then I want you to leave. But not before apologizing miss Heidi tomorrow Friday in front of class. Understood?"

"L-Loud and clear sir."

"Good...now get out."

As soon Takuya ran off in fear, Aeryn felt relief as she place her hand at her chest as it is beating loudly. Naoakira lean in and whisper to her ear.

"Are you okay little mouse?"

Aeryn blushed as Naoakira asked her with her personal nickname, she calmly responded.

"I'll be fine...just a bit shaken...but thank you..."

Naoakira smile as he whisper more to her ear.

"Then...will you stay with me tonight? I promise...I'll be gentle."

Aeryn blushed as she is getting heated by this, so she stayed and wait asa good little mouse just for him

Timeskip is brought to you by "pivot!" "Shut up!"

Naoakira kept his words as right now the two are iat his place, as he began to lick her clitoris while same time eating her as Aeryn is moaning. Her clothes were on the floor as her ribbon that once tied her hair is now wrapped around her wrist along Naoakira's necktie.

"Aaah....Aaah...N...Naoakira..." She moan his name as she feel s her tears in her eyes as she whimper and moan.

Naoakira pulls away as he notice Aeryn's tears and her frown, he slowly goes on top of her as he cherish her cheek.

"What's wrong?" He asked as Aeryn controls her whimper and spoke.

"I...I didn't mean to cause that scene...I swear...please...please don't hate me..."

Naoakira recalls it as he hushed her by cherishing her cheek and hair.

"Oh my little mouse...its not your fault, so please don't cry....you know I don't like it...cause it makes me sad too..."

Aeryn then look at him with her pleading yet lustful eyes.

"I...I want you...I want you..."

Naoakira knew what she meant, he then place her in better position as her head is resting at his pillow as she enjoys the scent of his pillow while same time felt her legs open and his clothes being strip away.

It didn't took long for her to feel his cock inside of her as she gasp and moan at this, she wanted to hold him by her hands are tied by her ribbon and his necktie.

Naoakira pant as he slowly untie it for her to hold onto him as he began to thrust her, Aeryn moans as she hold onto him as her nails dug deep to his back making scratch marks as Naoakira bit his bottom lips as he enjoys that.

"Aah...there there little mouse...I'm here...I won't let go."

The last three words made him groan as he thrust deeper and faster as Aeryn held onto him as her legs wrapped around his waist as her hands held onto the back of his neck as she moans.

"Aaah! N-Nao...Naoakira! Naoakira!!"

As he gave last thrust, Aeryn scream out of pleasure as he cums along her as she could feel herself spilling a lot of it out.

After a while, Aeryn pant as her body is relaxes in bed as Naoakira began to clean themselves up. He kisses hickey's he put on her as she sighed in relief.

But she frown as she recalls that Takuya had caled her friend a whore, Aeryn turn to Naoakira who he notice her sad expression.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you somewhere?"

"No...but...is it okay if I message Letitia? I'm upset on what Takuya called her..."

Naoakira smile as he grab her phone from her backpack as he handed it to her, Aeryn carefully sat up and took it as she message her.

Hey Letitia, you okay? I hope your doing okay...and I hope Hajun is taking care of you or I have to asked my brother to have a word with him...-Aeryn

Aeryn waited til she got notification from Letitia.

Hey Aeryn, I'm fine Hajun comforted me along Anne. Allen wanted to punch Takuya but we told him that his not worth a while and he understood. Sorry if we left but I'm glad professor Naoakira save you before it gets worse, see you tomorrow afternoon. -Letitia.

Aeryn smile as Naoakira sees the message as he kiss her forehead.

"I should thank Hajun for doing that..."

"Me too...but I want to say thank you for saving me..."

Naoakira smile and hugged her as she put he rphone on the nightstand next to his glasses as they lay down in bed as they held each other close.

The next day, Takuya is suspended due to his inappropriate behavior as well the verbal abuse he did to Letitia.

#paradox live the animation #paradox live #hipsterfic #naoakira saimon #saimon naoakira #naoakira saimon x oc #paradox live oc #paradox live smut

[moonartemisia]

Hajun is so clingy when in private, let's admit it 🤭🩷

┈➤ tagging: @enchantedforest-network ✧.

#anime / manga #art #artist on tumblr #moonartemisia 𓆩⚝𓆪 #paradox live hajun #hajun smut #hajun yeon #yeon hajun #hajun #hajun yeon x oc #oc #ocs #original character #paradox live bae #paradoxlive #pararai #paradox live #paradox live oc #paradox live the animation #hatitia #HaTitia ♡ #enchantedforestnetwork

[w00den-spoon]

Reward After A Long Days Work

✧ Bottom Ryu Natsume x Top Male Reader ✧

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Summary: Ryu Natsume has just come back from a long day of rehearsal, now that he's back at The Cat's Whiskers he can't resist having a little more fun before he winds down for the night. |One Shot|

Warnings: Smut 18+, Praise Kink, Top reader, Sex toys, Masturbation, Piercings, Choking, Handcuffs.

Word Count: 2k+

Authors Note: I haven't seen a single Ryu Natsume Fanfic yet so here we go. (First ever in the whole fandom?! WE MAKING HISTORY!!) Also please don't be afraid to send me requests for future fanfics OR constructive criticism! Anything and everything is welcome ;) This is also my very first time writing Character x Reader so I apologize if this sucks.

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Ryu dropped his bag at the base of his bedroom door with a smile. He had just come back from an eight-hour choreography practice. Any normal person would be completely drained... Ryu somehow, still had energy in him. The sky was dark and the moon was out, hundreds of stars twinkled in the sky and the dim lights of the room set a calming atmosphere throughout the room.

You had been on your phone, lying on Ryu's bed and scrolling online for hours, waiting for your boyfriend to get back. You often spent the night in the Cat's Whiskers upper bedroom quarters, and when you weren't spending the night there, well, Ryu was happily snoring in your bed back at your apartment.

As you lay on the top bunk of Ryu's bed you took a few glances downward- Watching secretly as your partner wrapped his fingers under his shirt and slowly pulled it off his body. You said nothing, keeping your eyes locked on his chest which was on full display for you and only you to see.

His smooth skin practically glowed in the moonlight. His perked-up nipples... pink- almost red was adorable in a way- and piercings shone in the dimly lit lights were extremely sexy.

Then as he hummed the group's newest tune, Ryu placed his thumbs under the band of his pants, slowly sliding them down to give you a fantastic view of his ass...

Fuck- He's so damn pretty. You thought for a moment, before quickly looking back at your phone... Ryu continued to hum to himself, acting like he was unaware of your eyes admiring him. Over time you slowly turned back to Ryu, your stomach fluttered and your heart pounded fast as a warm sensation crept across your face.

Catching yourself staring once more, you turned back to yourself... noticing a tight feeling in your lower half… Slowly you placed your phone to the side, looking at the bulge in your pants as your face flushed a bright red.

Suddenly your focus switched to two warm thighs wrapping around the sides of your waist. White hair brushed your forehead and a warm sensation danced across your lips. Ryu was kissing you softly as he shifted his hips to grind against your covered boner.

His pale arms were on each side of your head, stabilizing him as he kissed deeper, sliding his tongue into your mouth. It grazed your teeth, begging to be let further into you. Hot breaths and quiet moans exited both you and Ryu’s body as your lips spread further and your kiss deepened.

After a moment, Ryu pulled away, a string of saliva connected from your lips to his, and now both you and Ryu had become extremely hard… A wet stain soaked the singer's white underwear, making his dick and its piercing visible.

“Did you miss me?” Ryu teased pulling a blue rubber band out of his hair and letting the long strands of silver and lavender fall onto his shoulders. You leaned up to Ryu’s ear, using your elbows to stabilize yourself as you ran your fingers through his silky hair.

“Yes, I missed you, darling…” You whispered into his ears with only one thing on your mind… lust. The hairs on Ryu's body stood up as you carefully rotated yourself, shaking the bunk bed till eventually, you got into a comfortable position.

Ryu was underneath you now, your head placed between his thighs and his clothed but bulging penis was right in front of your eyes. You looked up, past Ryu’s hardened dick and nipples, and straight into his eyes that pleaded for his body to be touched.

With one hand, you took his left thigh, holding it up slightly and pushing it to the side to give you more access to his bulge. Without taking your eyes off Ryu, you kissed the inside of his thigh, making him shudder as you spoke in a low, seductive voice.

“It looks like you missed me too…” You teased in return, running your hand that was on Ryu’s thigh to under his thin underwear. Ryu whined at how uncomfortable his undergarments had suddenly become.

“Please…” He softly pleaded under his breath in the most desperate tone imaginable. You smiled, kissing the wet spot on his undergarments, but refusing to do anything more.

“What is it darling…?” You asked, knowing exactly what Ryu wanted, but for your own pleasure, making him say it out loud.

“Please… Your dick… please…” Ryu begged, gliding his hand past his stomach and under his underwear, pulling the fabric down slowly and taking your hand, making you do the same with the other side of his undergarments. His penis sprung up immediately, precum dripping down his dick, as he whined at the feeling of the cool night air brushing his penis.

“Your so beautiful… your body is so lovely…” You praised as you took his dick in your hand, pressing his sliver piercing into the slit of his dick. He moaned at the digging sensation, gripping the sheets with his long fingers and his legs bent closer together. Then he whined, with his voice slightly cracking and his chest rising rapidly. You paused for a moment to see Ryu’s reaction before pressing down again, even harder this time.

“Please! Please oh my- oh my god… it hurts… please-” Ryu begged breathlessly over and over as he tried to focus on something, anything but the tears in his eyes were starting to form and the uncontrollable feeling of the need to be pleasured was taking over. You softly kissed Ryu’s tip before giving his dick one last squeeze and letting go, leaving him with no stimulation whatsoever.

“Why- Why did you stop… c’mon this isn't funny…” Ryu cried out, trying to find you through his tear-filled eyes. You climbed down the bunk beds later and walked over to Ryu’s closet as he whined for you.

Your own dick was dripping now, and it made you shudder with each step you took… your shorts rubbed against your penis as you crouched down to pick a small box off the floor, shaking it so that Ryu could understand where you had run off to.

Then you opened the lid of the small brown box to reveal two pairs of handcuffs and several dildos, vibrators, and other sex toys. You pulled out the handcuffs and the largest vibrator, then tossed the box to the side for you to worry about later.

You took off your shorts throwing them along with the brown box and made your way back to the top bunk. Crawling back on top of Ryu, you took his wrists as he whined at the sudden weight around his waist from you sitting on him.

Locking the cuffs around the singer's wrists, you secured them to the bed’s rails and returned back to Ryu’s dick and hole, and they were ready for a pleasure they had been waiting all day for.

You licked your fingers and swiped some of the precum off Ryu’s penis, flicking the tip and making his hips buck forwards while the sounds of surprised moans and handcuffs rattling filled the room.

You smiled, slowly inserting two fingers into Ryu’s pink asshole. His muscles quivered as they took in your fingers, and Ryu whined non-stop till your fingers stopped moving completely, then he spoke.

“Don't tell me you're going to try to fit that all in right now-” Ryu said after he spotted the huge purple vibrator in the shape of a penis sitting on the bedsheets.

“I believe in you Ryu… we’ll take it slow… alright?” You replied already finished with stretching him out. Ryu blinked, trying to take in what you had just said, and surprisingly he was convinced.

“Al- Alright- Anything- I’ll do anything for you- Ngh-!” Ryu was cut off by a fast wave of shock. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he let out a wail of pain and cum spurt from his penis.

You had just shoved all eight inches of the vibrator into him unexpectedly. Tears streamed down his eyes as he fought the handcuffs holding him back from pleasuring himself any further. S

obs echoed throughout the room as globs of cum shot every few seconds from Ryu and onto the white bedsheets. He groaned and whimpered at the aftershock… it was too sudden…

“Why-? Why- what happened to slow-?!” Ryu barely managed to ask. He wasint upset but a little warning would have been better… and now… God… now the vibrator in him wasn't enough- more- he needed more-

“Oh? Sorry darling I meant with the vibration levels…” You smiled, clicking on a separate remote the number 3 out of ten different buttons.

Ryu moaned once again loudly, his dick was starting to harden again as the vibrations from the toy were sending waves of ecstasy through his whole body.

The bed was shaking and his legs were trembling from the buzzing sensation- everything became a hot sweaty blur. His mind spun as he felt the vibrator go up another two levels, then you crawled over Ryu’s body, sitting on his chest while your dripping penis bobbed slightly up and down above his head.

“Do you think you can take it from both ends baby?” You cooed, taking your penis in your hands and slowly rubbing the slit to give it some kind of stimulation.

“Yes… yes…” Ryu struggled to reply as he licked his lips, not breaking eye contact with your dick. Without another word, you aligned yourself and your penis with the entrance of Ryu’s mouth.

“Spread those pretty lips for me, baby.” You ordered and Ryu did just that. He opened his mouth wide and stuck out his split tongue, ready for his mouth the be vigorously fucked.

Then you thrust your dick deep into the back of his throat. He gagged, coughing at first but you didn't stop as he gasped for air. You pushed harder and deeper, bouncing on his face as you let your head hang back and your eyes roll to the back of your mind. You stuck your tongue out as you took your time, ramming your penis as hard as you could down your partner's throat.

The wetness of Ryu’s mouth- his piercings grazing against your penis ever so slightly, his moans, his whines, his body- it all felt so good- I want to fuck him… I want to- A knot started to form in your stomach, it was tight, but it felt sensational.

“I’m gonna- Ryu- I’m gonna cum-” Not a moment later did loads of sticky, hot, semen shoot down the singer's throat, forcing him to swallow every last drop you released.

A shiver ran down your spine as you moaned nonsense into the night. Tears rolled down your cheeks and your stomach twitched as the last few spurts shot out of your stomach.

You let out a sigh of relief as stopped thrusting and placed all of your weight onto Ryu’s face- Leaning forward and grabbing onto the bunk bed's railing while you tried to catch your breath, making it practically impossible for Ryu to breathe beneath you.

After a moment of wiping beads of sweat off your forehead and readjusting your hair, you felt a slapping seston on your lower back. It took you a moment before you realized that your dick was still lodged in the back of Ryu’s throat and he was hitting you as a way to communicate he needed to breathe. Since when did he get out of those handcuffs? You thought, amazed

Quickly you pulled your dick out of his mouth and crawled off your teary-eyed partner. Ryu gasped for air, his chest rapidly rising and falling as you slowly slid the still-vibrating toy out of Ryu and turned it off. You smiled, watching your partner catch his breath as you made your way to lay next to him.

“Do you need anything, Ryu? Water?” You suggested as you leaned your body against the wall the bed was put against and started playing with Ryu’s soft hair.

Suddenly you were pulled from your position and then entangled in all of Ryu’s limbs. He dug his head into the crook of your neck and softly breathed in and out.

“A little warning would be nice next time-” Ryu suggested, kissing your collarbone and then your lips. It was a quick kiss, nothing too passionate, and then he pulled away with that same energetic smile on his face.

“Love you Ryu…” You whispered after the short kiss. Ryu just smiled and simply replied.

“I know!” Then he rested his head onto his pillow and drifted off to sleep without a care in the world.

#ryu natsume #paradox live #the cat's whiskers #character x reader #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #Ryu Natsume paradox live #smut #oneshot #male reader #male reader x male character

[selenemoonlite]

✧.* HOMEBDY || Hajun Yeon × OC

SYNOPSIS: Starting to question where their bond lies... hitting on their private room inside the club without no one is looking. Their friends and fans might be suspicious of the two of you getting comfortable with each other. Away from the noisy rave, the breath of intoxicating cigarettes, people drinking and chattering; what's left between the tension folds? "What are we?" Is the question to this desirable feeling of uncertainty that you wish to fade... Tags: drugs, fwb, situationships, mentions of alcohol, foreplay, rough sex, semi-bondage, mutual stimulation, edging, one-night stand turned sneaky link, drama, psychological matters, familial issues notes: no beta reads! This is a oc × canon story, dark contents will be present in this prompt by the following tags, and korean or any foreign words in the story. Based on the song "HOMEBDY" by DEMÍ ft. slimedemidemislime & Madman Stan

╰┈➤ ii: Act Tough ✧.*

"Follow me, I'll take you somewhere you'll be satisfied to hate me more."

Those words struck in her mind as Hajun guided her towards the secluded room in the bar. Letitia had conflicting emotions about entering this room, knowing it was commonly used for intimate encounters. As they entered, Hajun firmly grasped her wrist, pulling her further into the room. Letitia couldn't help but feel a slight unease about the situation.

The room itself, designed for passionate encounters, exuded an ambiance that heightened anticipation. The mix of purple and pink neon lights created a seductive atmosphere, with a large bed positioned in the center. There were also numerous concealed items to discover in this area. It reminded Letitia of the love hotels all over here within the district. Despite her nerves, Letitia had a sense of what kind of place she was in as Hajun locked the door behind them.

But, this is a consensual one-night stand, right?

She couldn't figure out the mood Hajun was in after a petty argument.

"You're serious?"

"Did I back down to that?"

Letitia crouched shutting her lips tight. Hajun persisted. Luckily, his polite mannerism still keeps to his rude demeanor.

"Like I said, forget what I said. Wouldn't be stupid of me to hear it from you? Yes, this is petty."

He knows? Good thing. The female rapper chided his statement. Unattainable to speak her mind.

SLAM—!

"H-hey, Hajun—"

Letitia's heart raced as Hajun's lips met hers in a fiercely kiss. Despite her shock and confusion, she couldn't deny the intensity of their connection. It was a clash of emotions, a mix of fear, anger, and desire that consumed her.

She resisted at first, trying to push him away, but his grip on her hands only tightened, anchoring her in place. His lips moved against hers, their mouths melding in a dance of dominance and submission. It was a battle of wills, and in that moment, Letitia found herself losing.

Her body responded to his touch, her own desires conflicting with her instinct to fight against him. Hajun's forceful kiss ignited a fire within her, awakening a side of herself she never knew existed. It was as if his passion was infectious, overwhelming her senses and clouding her judgment.

As the kiss deepened, Letitia felt her resistance crumbling. Her hands gradually relaxed in Hajun's hold, a surrender of both her physical and emotional defiance. His lips explored every inch of her mouth, claiming her in a way that both terrified and exhilarated her.

Time seemed to stop as they clung to each other, lost in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Letitia couldn't ignore the undeniable chemistry between them, the undeniable pull she felt towards him. Despite the circumstances that brought them together, she couldn't deny the electrifying connection they shared.

As Letitia's hands were set on his chest that made him hurled a moan.

The sensations that Hajun is feeling through his mind — there may be a potential romantic or sexual tension between him and Letitia. However, despite having many fangirls and being known for his flirtatious nature, Hajun respects boundaries and understands the difference between being a flirt and a fuckboy. He doesn't want to engage in casual relationships or take advantage of his fans' desires. Hajun values his popularity and knows that there is a limit to how far his fans can fantasize about being with him. As a confident man, he seeks a genuine connection with someone, rather than just satisfying sexual needs and intentions.

But a different feeling is such an immense exclusivity in his case towards Letitia.

Their passionate and fiery kisses had a magnetic pull, with their feet grazing the floor— Hajun pushed her onto the edge of the bed. As his hands left her body, a soft thud endured her. He then discarded his jacket, which had fallen to the floor. the fire in their passion was growing. Both rapper leaving themselves breathless, Letitia knew that their journey was far from over. Hajun's hate for her still simmered beneath the surface, and she couldn't forget the danger that lurked in his eyes. Yet, she couldn't deny the undeniable truth that her heart had already been captivated by this ruthless man.

"H-hajun..."

He darts down at her. With a slight creak, Hajun bends on one knee. Leaning his figure closer to her, huffing.

"You look helpless..." a blunt comment came from his sharp voice.

Letitia's eyes drooped slightly, and her breath became shallow with each raspy pant. She could see her own reflection in Hajun's moist pink eyes and her cheeks grew increasingly flushed with every second. Hajun's presence was overpowering, causing Letitia's every sense to heighten in intensity.

"You..."

He takes off his glasses placing them on the counter table beside the bed before returning a glance.

Being taunted by Letitia's shaking voice, the blonde only peered a sly smirk, "Yes, me? Shush..."

A cocky answer to pull off, the female rapper couldn't hesitate any longer as her body was pressed down by his weight. Hajun's face leaned, his straight bangs almost touching her forehead with a peering smirk.

Words were unimportant, replies were unnecessary, and answers unnecessary in this moment of ecstasy. Hajun's eyes gazed her covered body with an alluring intensity, and the dim pink and purple light filled the room with the ambience of intimate pleasure. His thoughts drifted towards the reality of the situation — this was his first time alone with Letitia, and she looked like a goddess, inviting him to take her in.

His hand slipped through her unruly hair and gently removed a few strands from around her neck. With a slow and deliberate motion, he moved his hand down to her blazer, which she had not yet taken off.

Hajun began kissing her neck intently, lapping at every inch of soft skin he could find. Letitia let out a gasp and stiffened her body in response. Hajun continued his lavish kisses and moved down her body, caressing her sensitive skin. Letitia tried to wiggle away but was unable to move while Hajun pinned her body down under his own weight.

"Behave, you puppy..."

"H-ha— cruel—"

"What a meek response, Heidi... don't take it too personal."

This is only for the night... this is only for once... no more

After a momentary pause, Hajun finally managed to unzip her blazer, exposing her body. Letitia's legs were lifted wearing fishnet stockings, and Hajun was losing control.

Letitia coiled, moaning in his attempts to expose her. The shivering sensation dwells her body, is she about to give in?

Despite this alluring and tempting offer, Hajun wondered if he should resist. His self-control was wavering, and he was at war with his desires

Fuck, what am I even doing?

"Hajun? Are you okay?"

The battle between reason and desire waged inside Hajun's head. Why was he hating her while wanting her so much? Why was he allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of her and lose control? Hajun tried to keep his mind yelling that he was being petty and envious and that he was letting his pride take away all of his accomplishments. But his body was responding to her aura, and he was struggling to stay in control.

"I'm sorry...Letitia—"

"H-huh?"

"I said I'm sorry... I got carried away."

In an unexpected moment, Hajun looked away from Letitia's blue eyes, pausing his advance. It was a petty move to drag her into this mess, and it wasn't a good excuse to completely confuse the Filipino rapper. The underlying fact that she would soon explore Hajun more completely took Letitia by surprise. But the hate that had eaten away at him started to get out of control, and the way he was treating her was puzzling and inappropriate.

Letitia stands up firmly, dragging her blazer to cover her intimate parts that were exposed. Her wave of anger slaps Hajun across the face.

"If you weren't being a jerk bringing me here?! Hajun what— you're shameless!"

Hajun realized that his massive ego has clouded his judgment yet again. That he had been an utter jackass for dragging Letitia into this mess simply because of his overwhelming hate and insecurities. He knows that he can't be open with her because his vulnerable side is something he feared to share. The pain on his face where she had slapped him had subsided, but he was left with a lingering feeling of shame. It was indeed impossible to claim his openness if he were always worried about taking advantage of Letitia.

It was all for him to cover his faults, in fact.

As the night slowly gave way to morning, the quiet streets at the university were broken by the usual limousine that Hajun rode in alongside Allen and Anne. Hajun's smile and charming aura were concealed by his aloofness, as he was trying to suppress his thoughts about what had happened with Letitia. Allen suddenly started asking Hajun questions, and the Korean rapper remained stoic and reserved in his responses, refusing to share his thoughts and feelings about what had happened.

"Hey, what happened between the two of you?"

"Hm? Yes?"

"I mean you and Letitia last night?"

For a moment of silence, Hajun only arched a brow at the phoenix hip-hop genius.

"Personal matter... it is something only me and Letitia's to know."

"Hm, fair enough... you were acting kinda firm with her lately. Something came up?"

He sighs trying to convict his own temperance at Allen's question knowing the fact he did an odd mistake to her.

"I've handled it fine... just to say she and I had it pretty crucial with the discussions. Not to mention she did gave me a feedback, impulsively."

Anne's eyes met Hajun's last response which this became unsettling for them. They quipped to join in the talk between the two.

"Hajun, just what did the two of you were last night?" A hint of concern conveyed Anne's voice asking the blonde.

Hajun was unable to entertain Allen and Anne as he remained silent in his aloofness. Even though the usual fangirls surrounded the car, Hajun remained hidden in his persona as a popular guy around the school. The Korean rapper was lost in his thoughts about Letitia, feeling uncertainty about the closeness he felt with her last night. It was strange how this woman had given him a strange warmth and sensation, and he couldn't understand why he felt this way.

"I'm concerned about Hajun... but as usual he is still being him by that princely manner." Anne said taking her sentiments to Allen as they walked pass the gates.

"He isn't the type to be rough on girls, well Letitia and Hajun were pretty formal in their previous encounters."

"I doubt that, Allen. He never mentions such change in their connection since you and her greeted. What gives?"

"Ask Letitia about it?" Allen then confided Anne.

"Ah, as much as I look like a gossiper around. I don't jump into anyone's personal dilemmas, unless...."

"Unless what?"

Anne was perplexed by their surroundings, having difficulty articulating a thought that would pierce the silence between the three of them. They brushed off the issue, realizing it was not their business to intervene in Hajun's complicated feelings towards Letitia. However, their curiosity continued to linger; they could sense something was amiss, and they wished they could do something to help. Allen felt similarly, feeling powerless and unable to truly address the elephant in the room.

"Unless, they know themselves first how to settle it on their own. Come on, Allen I'm also jumping into conclusions with them, in hindsight... they can talk with it."

Allen can accept their reassurance, however, being a long and trusted friend he is to him. He better knows what is really going on.

He had kept his shallowness for long as I can remember. When to grow up and show it like how you mean it, Hajun? Letitia is also a good friend, they may had a confrontation, perhaps?

Frightened by the thought of confronting him, Allen quickly dismissed his thoughts. He knew that he had to focus on the live battle, and he didn't have time to dwell on the situation. As they approached the classroom, Hajun was walking ahead of them, and Allen tried to compose himself and focus on the upcoming battle.

(To be continued)

✧.* @.moonartemisia 2023 || do not copy my works

╰┈➤ masterlist navigation ✧.* || prev. chapter || chapter three

#anime and manga #paradox live the animation #pararai hajun yeon #paradox live hajun yeon #pararai #paradox live #paralive #hajun yeon #hajun yeon smut #yeon hajun #lunaticcreatives =͟͟͞⚝ #lunaticfics ⋆｡° ✮ #looniesuggestives 𓁹‿𓁹 #hajun yeon × oc #homebdy

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | angus tully x reader

sequel to 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲, won't really make much sense without reading that!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | holiday break can only last so long, but angus wants this to be more than a fling-- and you, as much as you want to deny it, already know it's more than a fling. the question remains if either one of you will admit it.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.3k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), age gap (not huge but angus is 18 and the reader is just out of college), semi-public sex, breeding kink, very inappropriate activities in a church, secret relationship, a wee bit of angst and fluff at the end!

part 3 coming soon!

“Fuck, I don’t wanna go back,” he groaned, dropping his head defeatedly into the crook of your neck.  “I never wanna go back to that horrible fucking school.”

“I guess you’ll just see me at Easter break then, huh?” you purred, grazing your teeth over his ear.

“You know, if sex with you keeps lining up with the Catholic calendar, it’s gonna give me a complex or something,” he noticed.

“Oh, I can do better than that,” you beamed.  “Next time you see me at Mass, I won’t be wearing any panties.  And you’ll be the only other one who knows.”

He perked up again, balancing himself over you with bent arms against the mattress.  “I swear, you’re a dream come true.  A really fucked up dream I had after seeing a porno mag or something.”

You laughed, but it was cut off with him pulling you into another kiss— sweet and slow, with both of you smiling against each other.  With your limbs tangled together under the sheets, you melted together into your bed; and no, none of it really seemed real yet.  Every time this happened, you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you were hooking up with Angus Tully.  Frankly, you were sort of trying not to think about it, at least not too much.  If you really tried, you could look at his face and see the little kid you babysat all those years ago, and it just made you feel sort of awful about it… yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

Your smile fell into a gasp when he started to kiss your neck, his hands guiding your back as it arched slightly.  When he pressed his body against yours, you felt him getting hard against your leg, and you groaned softly.

“Fuck, Angus, again?” you whined.  “We already went twice—”

“I’m leaving in two days,” he explained, “I need you as many times as I can get away with it.”

You wanted to protest, say something about how sore you were or about how he needed to leave and go back home before someone noticed he was gone— but his slender fingers were already diving between your legs and making you just moan instead.

“See?  You’re wet already,” he noticed with a playful mockery to his tone.  “I’ve gotta take care of you, baby…”

Oh, you couldn’t stand it when he talked like that— when he made you feel so vulnerable to him, so paradoxically submissive.  When this started a couple weeks back, it was the other way around: you were the cool, older woman with all the power.  You told him what you wanted and he was more than happy to oblige, never questioning you— he was obedient, basically.  But once you’d had a few more encounters, he realized that you wanted him just as badly… that he could make you desperate, if he wanted.  Once he’d had the smallest taste of control, he was suddenly a changed man; now, he loved to tease and taunt you, see how far he could push you, even once he made you beg— and you expected you’d never get to live that down. 

He watched your face with a mischievous smile as he slowly slid two fingers into you, watching the way you winced and then relaxed.  “I’ll be careful,” he promised, “I know you’re all sensitive still… thought you might wake up the whole house with that last one.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks flushed, remembering how he’d had to cover your mouth with his hand when he made you come.  These were issues you hadn’t considered much before, since you spent most of the year living in a dorm where you didn’t really care if anyone heard what you were up to.  Staying in your parents’ house again— and secretly fucking their friends’ son in your childhood bedroom— posed new challenges to say the least.

You gasped when his fingers curled inside you, rubbing that spot that made everything clench for a moment.  “Mm,” he observed encouragingly, “like that?”

“Yes,” you hissed under your breath.  Just when you began to let your eyes fall shut, they shot open when he added a third finger inside you.  “Fuck!” 

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” he scolded, “you can fit three fingers just fine— my cock’s bigger than all that anyways.”

He twisted the fingers inside you as your hips rocked, shivers running over your skin.  “Yeah, but still— fuck, it’s a lot…”

“You take it just fine,” he assured.  “You take whatever I give you, huh?”

“Sh-shut up,” you whimpered, and he laughed softly.

“You’re so good for me,” he continued anyways, making you bite your lip in hopes he wouldn’t notice his effect on you.  Whenever he said stuff like that, you just wanted to ask him who the fuck he thought he was— it made you want to shove him off of you and pin him down, remind him of his place.  But you never did, because letting him take control always felt so damn good…

His head dipped down a bit under the covers— and his lips latched onto one of your nipples, making you gasp and grab his hair with one of your hands.  “Oh god— yes,” you praised, shuddering a bit as he suckled hard on the bud.

He moaned around it, his free hand holding the other breast and keeping you down even when your back longed to arch deeper.  “You get so wet when I do this,” he noticed as he pulled away briefly, moving to suck the other for a moment as his fingers gently pumped into you.  When he pushed them in all the way to the knuckle, at the same time that his tongue swirled around your nipple just right, your patience finally gave in.

“Just fuck me,” you begged, tugging harder on his curls as you felt him smile against your skin.  “God, I just— fuck—”

He pulled away from your breast with a pop and a grin.  “Just ask nicely, baby, and I’m all yours.”

“I know you want to, just fuck me,” you growled, but he shook his head and you clenched your jaw.

“You can say it,” he encouraged, “just use the magic word.”

You rolled your eyes, hating the juvenile way of describing it, but his fingers were still moving inside you and you just needed it too bad— “Please,” you breathed.  “Please fuck me.”

“There you go,” he praised, slowly pulling his drenched fingers out of you and moving his hips to line up with yours instead.  He was so hard; you were almost impressed with his resolve, though at the moment you were mostly just annoyed with it.  “Look up at me,” he demanded, making you meet his gaze before he pushed himself inside you.

It was almost too intense, looking right into his eyes as he thrust into you carefully— you bit your lip, watching the heavy sigh of relief leave him as he filled you.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his eyes scanning all over your face and watching your expression change as he pressed his cock as deep as possible.  “You’re fucking perfect.”

You didn’t really believe that, but you at least would concede that this moment was perfect.

You held tighter onto him, legs wrapping around his hips, as he leaned in closer and moaned against your neck.  “How am I supposed to leave when you feel this fucking good?” he groaned lowly, and you felt yourself already beginning to pulse inside as you moved closer to the edge.  “I feel good too, right?”

Poor thing— if only he knew that it was his own fault you withheld praise, just because he sounded too precious when he asked you for reassurance like that.  He was really fucking talkative, way more than you expected; sometimes you thought if you didn’t say anything, he’d just go off on these wild tangents about how bad he needs you.  “You feel good,” you replied, trying to keep it a little vague so he’d ask for more.

“How good?” he asked with a grin, and you smiled, too, because he was wonderfully predictable sometimes.

“So good,” you cooed, “so fucking good that I’m gonna come way too fast.”

“Hey, that’s my thing,” he joked.  His stamina had definitely increased a lot in just a few encounters, but he still had a habit of coming quickly if you got him a bit too riled up.  Not that you really minded… it was still cute, after all, and he usually made it up to you one way or another.

He picked up his pace, letting out a low moan against your ear.  “Tell me you want me to come inside you,” he ordered, panting with each quick thrust.

“Fuck, Angus, I want you come,” you replied, whispering against his ear.  “I want you to fill me—”

“Fuck…”

“And put all your come so deep in me—”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined again.  “I’m so fucking close.”

You whined, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling your chest get tighter as you moved closer to the edge.

“Tell me you want me to breed you,” he added; okay, so much for predictable…

“Wh-what?” you choked, feeling suddenly hot all over.  “Angus, I—”

“I know, you won’t,” he soothed, “it’s just, you know, pretend… just say you want it, please.”

You swallowed but nodded, holding on tighter to the back of his neck.  “I… I want you to get me pregnant.”

“God, yes,” he whined through his teeth, fucking you faster.

“I-I want you to fill me up so I can have a baby,” you continued in a whisper, and he moaned again as his grip on your hips tightened.  You could hardly believe what you were saying, nor that he had asked you to say it, and yet it made the most wonderfully bizarre feeling stir inside you— strangest of all, it was turning you on.  “F-fuck, Angus, I’m gonna come.”

“You’re gonna come with me?” he pressed, sighing when you nodded.  “Fuck, let’s do it— we’ll come together.  That’ll definitely get you pregnant.”

“Jesus, Angus,” you hissed, “what are you talking about?”

“It doesn’t get you hot, thinking about it?” he challenged.  “Thinking about us making a baby right now?  Imagining how good it would feel to let me breed you and make you a mommy?”

“Sh-shut the fuck up,” you grunted, but you were already trying to hold it back.

“God, you want it so bad,” he noticed— how was he only this perceptive in these sorts of situations?  “You want me to come in you and knock you up, I can tell.  You’re gonna come just thinking about it.”

Even though it wasn’t really just thinking about it— it was him fucking you deep and fast and hard after a whole night of making love— you were forced to bite your lip and nod.

“C’mon, baby, I wanna feel it again,” he purred.  “Feels so fucking perfect when you come around me— you’re mine, aren’t you?”

Your heart jumped and your eyes shut tight.  “God,” you groaned in frustration, but he just smiled and held you tighter.

“It’s okay,” he cooed, “nobody has to know, it’s just me— you’re mine, right?  Say it.  Say you’re mine.”

You whined when it hit you— and nothing had ever hit you quite like that.  Tensing up inside, pulsing uncontrollably, you felt the weight on your chest lift and you dug your nails into his shoulders as he fucked you through it.  “Fuck!  I-I’m yours!” you blurted out, unable to stop it when you were drowning in your ecstasy like that.

He swore against your ear, and gave you hardly one more thrust before falling over the edge himself, groaning weakly as his body sank down onto yours.

You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t force you to address any of what you’d just said; he looked so exhausted that you almost wanted to let him fall asleep here if it meant avoiding that conversation.  But it was just like him to only give you about ten seconds of silence before running his mouth again.

He started by just sitting up enough to kiss you on the cheek, then the lips, then the side of your forehead when you turned away.  “That was so hot,” he announced, still catching his breath, as he grinned down at you.

“That was… different,” you admitted as you hoped your embarrassment wouldn’t show on your face.  “You weren’t serious, right?  I mean, you know I’m on the pill—”

“Yeah, of course,” he assured, “it’s just, I don’t know, a fantasy.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at him.  “Respectfully, I thought it was more of a nightmare— you know, it’s kinda worst-case-scenario here.”

“No, no, I know— that’s why it’s fun,” he explained.  “‘Cause it’s, like, bad.  Well, not bad, but… scary.  In a good way!  Like a rollercoaster or something.”

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed, “just like a rollercoaster.  That’s why the maternity ward at the hospital looks so much like Six Flags.”

“You know what I mean,” he laughed.  “It’s just… if it actually happened it would be a huge fucking deal… but just imagining it, just for fun I mean, it makes my heart race.  See?”

He picked up one of your hands and put it on his neck, pressing your fingers into his pulse so you could feel its rapidness.  “Fair enough,” you shrugged, “you sure scared the crap out of me for a second.”

“You liked it,” he cooed, kissing the tip of your nose.  “You like being mine, too.”

Even if you could’ve hid the reaction on your face somehow, the way your weak muscles still found the energy to clench around his softening cock gave you away; he purred as he smiled, kissing you more tenderly on the lips this time.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered to you.

“I probably look like a mess,” you laughed quietly, “I don’t even want to know what my hair looks like after a night like this.”

“Yeah, that’s how I like you, though— you look pretty all fucked up,” he explained.

You glanced over as he moved to bury his face in your neck again, only to see the slightest blue glow in the window: the early light just before dawn.  “Angus, it’s almost morning,” you noticed.  “You need to go.”

“Not yet,” he begged, hugging you tighter.  “I bet I can make you come again—”

“No,” you snapped, “if your parents find out you snuck out— and if anyone knows you came here—”

“Baby, c’mon,” he pouted, “I’ll be quick, nobody’s gonna know—”

“I swear to god, Angus—”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed, “then just kiss me before I go.”

He held your cheek and turned your face to his, and you kissed him; you hated these kisses, the ones that felt like goodbye.  They were amazing, of course, but they always broke your heart.

“I’ll see you later?” he assumed.

“You’ll see me on Sunday,” you replied.

“Nooo, I can’t wait that long,” he whined.

“Yes you can,” you breathed.  “Now get up, please, before I have to literally kick you out.”

“Fine,” he relented, climbing off of you and searching the floor for his boxers and t-shirt.

“I still can’t believe you ran here without even putting a coat on,” you remembered, “it’s below freezing out.”

“Whatever, it’s not even a block to my house,” he rolled his eyes.

“Mr. Lindy across the street takes out the trash insanely early in the morning— what if he sees you running back to your house in the snow without any fucking clothes on?!” 

“He was young once, right?  He’ll understand,” Angus laughed.

“I’m hoping he doesn’t understand,” you groaned, “‘cause if he figures it out and tells my parents—”

“I know,” he breathed, slipping on his shoes and leaning over the bed to kiss you quickly.  “It’ll be fine, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled back.

There was a brief pause before Angus dropped his arms down against his sides, hitting his legs; “Well, I… guess I’ll see you at Mass,” he announced.

“That’s gotta be the weirdest thing to say after hooking up with somebody,” you decided.

“I couldn’t think of anything else!” he defended.  “I’m about to jump out your window, it’s already a pretty weird transition.”

“Okay, first of all, please don’t jump,” you replied, “but fair enough.  I’ll see you at Mass.”

He hesitated, suddenly giving you one more kiss— one that lingered a little more— before opening your window and beginning to climb out.

~

Mass was certainly a lot more interesting when you kept feeling Angus’ eyes on you.  His family had been just barely on time for the service, so you hadn’t been able to talk to him before it started; you could tell he was dying to know if you’d gone through with it.

You tugged on the bottom of your dress as you adjusted yourself in the pew; it was definitely a weird feeling, and you couldn’t stop worrying that someone, somehow, would see up your skirt and get an eyeful.  The anxiety of it was oddly arousing, though— it made you understand a bit better what Angus had said about the whole scary in a good way thing.

When you occasionally spared a glance at him, you noticed that Angus still looked a little underslept; you’d both been up all night just a couple days ago, but the difference was that your parents didn’t really mind if you spent most of the next day in your room, so you’d had a chance to catch up— Angus’ parents were more determined to make use of his time off from school, and had him doing all kinds of chores and activities on Saturday that prevented him from getting more than a quick nap here and there.

And they’d tugged him out of bed bright and early for church today, so he was probably still feeling the effects of an all-nighter.  That said, he certainly didn’t seem lacking in energy at the moment— he kept wringing his hands, constantly glancing at you, so noticeably that his mom lightly smacked him on the shoulder when she noticed it.

But you were looking across the aisle at him, too.  If for no other reason than how cute he looked in his shirt and tie.

After the service, as everyone mingled around coffee and donuts, Angus made a beeline towards you— you’d kind of hoped he would be a little more subtle.

“Hey,” he greeted, and you just nodded at him with a smirk.  “It’s been too long.”

He glanced at all the people passing by, stepping closer to you to let someone walk past but never moving back; he waited until no one was too close before he spoke again in a lower voice.

“Are you really not wearing any…?” he asked, an extra sparkle in his eye and a mischievous smile on his face.  His smile dropped a bit when you nodded, though, and his eyes raked over you in the most intoxicating, lascivious way.  You were sure you’d never had someone look at you like that, like they’d give anything to devour you right then— and with no panties to hold it, you felt your arousal slicken where your thighs rubbed together.

He cleared his throat and glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one was looking over at him as he adjusted his corduroys awkwardly; you licked your lips, a little too flattered by the effect you had on him.

“That’s, um, that’s…” he mumbled, tripping over his words.  “That’s really… yeah.”

“Really what?” you challenged as you bit your lip briefly, moving closer to him and all but batting your eyes up at him.

“It’s really fucking sexy,” he whispered.

“Yeah?” you cooed.  “I think it’s sexy that you think it’s sexy.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about—” he began.

“I know,” you sighed, “me too.”

“I wasn’t even tired that day— I was wired, actually,” he laughed quietly.  “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Your heart’s pace picked up a bit, and you glanced away briefly.  “I, um… I thought about you, too.

“There’s gotta be somewhere we can go,” he whispered.  “It’s a big place— everyone’s here, if we just… found an empty room—”

“Jesus, Angus— in a church?!” you hissed.

“Come on,” he begged, “I don’t know when we’ll get a chance again— and I’m leaving tomorrow— and I want you so bad—”

“Shh,” you warned him, making sure no one was nearby again.  “We’ll figure something out— just not here.  It’s too risky.”

“But I need you now,” he insisted, voice lower and darker as he stepped just a bit closer to you.  “It won’t take us long— I mean, it definitely won’t take me long, after spending the last two days thinking about you.”

You crossed your arms, looking down at the floor, and you felt him lean in over you.  “Please, baby?” he whispered under his breath.

Releting, you took a glance at the crowd and made sure nobody was looking in your direction.  “You go find an empty room in the east wing.  I’ll talk to a few people— so it doesn’t look like we’re going together— and I’ll come find you in a few minutes, okay?”

“Great,” he beamed.  “Uh, which way is east again?”

You pointed him in the right direction and watched him bound away, sighing to yourself as you re-entered the crowd.  You got a lot of questions about your plan now that you finished your degree— and you found yourself repeating the same stock answer about how your graduate program didn’t start until the fall so you had the spring and summer to stay home.  Even though you knew you needed to kill some time to look less suspicious, you found yourself glancing constantly towards the east wing, getting more and more impatient for your chance to slip away as unnoticed as possible.

As the crowd was clearing out and nearly everyone’s attention was turned onto somebody’s new baby, you took the opportunity to disappear into the dark hallway.  As you peered around the doors, you saw Angus peeking out at you through one of the little windows; the door opened, and you slipped into an abandoned Sunday school classroom, barely having time to gingerly shut the door behind you before you felt his lips on your neck and his hand sliding up your thigh.

“That took forever,” he complained, and before you could remind him it had hardly been five minutes, his fingers were exploring between your legs.  “Fuck, what’re you so wet for?” he teased, and you groaned as you pulled him closer by his pants and hopped up to sit on the low bookshelf nearby.

“Just hurry up,” you hissed, “we need to get this over with before somebody finds us here.”

He opened his fly quickly, but struggled slightly to free himself from the confines of his trousers; you hummed a bit when he got it out, pressing it against you right away as you moved your hips up.

Thrusting into you all at once, you both sighed slowly; you took hold of his shoulders, he grabbed onto your hips, and instantly he began to fuck into you impatiently.

“God, you’re so tight,” he hissed against your ear.  “Touch yourself— I want you to come, too.”

You reached between your bodies to put a few fingers on your clit, rubbing fast in hopes that you could catch up with him.

“Do you always do what you’re told?” he mocked playfully.

“I think the fact that we’re doing this right after church proves that I don’t,” you replied.

“Guess you only do what I tell you to,” he shrugged, which really made you want to talk back, but you couldn’t because you were trying not to moan too loudly.

He moved faster inside you, and something about the angle of sitting up on the shelf was making him hit just the right spot— or maybe you were sensitive from the exhilarating fear of getting caught.

“What if I got you pregnant here?” he purred, making you arch your back slightly.  “Wouldn’t that be funny?”

“You’ve got a weird sense of humor, Tully,” you breathed, struggling not to let your voice come out all whiny and weak.

“Knocked up at St. Mary’s… it’s what God would want, right?”

“Do you never shut up?” you hissed.

“No,” he smirked, “you’re cute when you’re ticked off at me.”

His eyes met yours, and you felt a strange emotion stir in your chest: you bit your lip, willing yourself to tear away from his gaze, but you found it impossible somehow.

One of his hands moved from your hip up to your chest, palming at you through your dress.  You tensed up inside, making him wince a bit, and you couldn’t believe how close you were already.

“Oh god, baby, m’gonna come,” you whimpered, moving your hand even faster over your clit; he groaned in approval, leaning in to kiss all along your neck.

“Come for me,” he pleaded, “I’m so fucking close— please come, fuck—”

“R-right there,” you gasped, gripping his shoulder tighter— actually, that wasn’t the only place you were gripping him tighter.  He was struggling to maintain the pace of his thrusts, in fact, with how hard your walls were bearing down on him.  “Yes, yes, yes—”

“Not too loud,” he warned you, and you bit hard on your own lip to suppress your moan: it stayed in your throat instead, and you heard him gasp as he heard and felt you reaching your peak.  He had to take his hand off your chest and put it on the bookshelf under you to help keep you upright, and he looked down between your bodies to watch himself give you a few final thrusts.

He stopped suddenly, whimpering slightly as he buried himself in you as deep as he could go; you sighed and laid back on the bookshelf again, having to tilt your head to avoid a figurine of some prophet or saint that you had absolutely no interest in identifying at the moment.

Angus took a moment to catch his breath, before looking back over his shoulder and through the door’s window to make sure no one was in the hallway.  He pulled his cock out of you carefully and did his best to fit it back into his pants.  As you felt a warm oozing feeling between your legs, your face began to heat up.

“Maybe I didn’t think this through,” you realized.

“What?” he mumbled.

“I’m gonna have to go out there with nothing on under my dress, with your come leaking out of me.”

He bit his lip.

“It’s not sexy, Angus!  It’s very inconvenient!” you frowned.

“It’s both,” he insisted.  “It’s very much both.”

~

Though you did get another chance to see Angus before he left, it wasn’t that sort of rendezvous, unfortunately.  Although, just sitting and talking with him was wonderful, too— in an entirely different way.  See, that was the thing that scared you most, even more than how badly you’d come to crave his touch: how happy you felt just being with him.

He was funny, and weird, and seemed to think your stories from college were fascinating; he was well-read, especially for a high school student, and you two could chat about your favorite books— a hobby most of your classmates in college found too nerdy to sympathize with.  

It probably looked totally wholesome from the outside: two childhood friends catching up while they were back home for a while.  And you, you probably looked normal and cool on the outside— you were trying to, at least.  But inside, you were terrified.  You wanted it to be like what Angus said— scary, in a good way, like a rollercoaster— but you were starting to just feel sick.  You know, like an actual rollercoaster would…

“Everyone there is so… dumb,” Angus decided as he leaned back, looking up at the ceiling.

“That can’t be true, it’s a good school,” you tried to encourage him.

“I mean, maybe they could be smart, but they act like morons,” he clarified.  “They hate me, too, and I don’t even really know why.”

“Probably because they can sense that you think they’re all morons,” you suggested; and he looked over at you, as if he’d genuinely never thought of that before.

But instead of addressing that, he sat up again and changed the subject.  “My parents probably want me to go back and, like, put my trunk in the car and stuff…”

“Right,” you nodded, “you should go.”

“Yeah— b-but, listen, um, before I do…” he trailed off, leaning a little closer to you on the couch.  “I wanted to, you know, talk.  About something.”

“We’ve been talking for half an hour,” you noticed.

“Right, uh— I meant something specific,” he explained, his cheeks seeming to get a little bit more pink.  “I… I won’t be back until spring break, you know…”

“Uh huh,” you nodded, raising an eyebrow as you wondered what he was getting at.

“And, you know, we’ve been having such a great time,” he went on, and your heart twisted.  You’d heard this spiel before: the things are so good now, why do we need to put a label on it? why can’t we just have fun talk.  The you’re great, but not good enough for more than this talk.  You decided to jump in and spare him before he said anything too… honest.

“I get it,” you promised, and he looked at you nervously.  “We’re gonna be too far apart for too long— and you shouldn’t, you know, feel like you’re tied down to anything.  It’s okay— I didn’t think I was, like, your girlfriend or anything.”

“R-right,” he coughed, looking away and putting his hand on the back of his neck.  “Yeah, that’s— that’s what I was gonna say.  I knew you’d understand.”

You smiled, wishing you weren’t always so goddamn understanding.  “But it was fun— a good way to kill time over the break, for sure.”

“Yeah,” he agreed alongside a thin laugh.  “I… I think I’ll always owe you, for being my first time and all.”

“Well, you’ve certainly spent your first two weeks of not being a virgin pretty well,” you snorted.  “I had a good time.  We’ll call it even.”

“And… when I come back?” he pressed.  “Maybe we can, I dunno… maybe we can do it again.”

You grinned and tilted your head.  “Yeah, I like that idea.”

“But can I still call you?” he asked nervously.

“Of course!” you beamed.  “You’ll have to tell me if you get any good books assigned this semester.”

“Yeah, I doubt it,” he scoffed, but his smile lifted just a bit.

“I can come see you off, if you want,” you offered, “but it might make your mom suspect something…”

“You’re probably right,” he admitted, “I wish you weren’t, but you are— but I’ll call first thing when I get there!”

You smiled, and he gave you a hug before he left; and he promised to call again, though you’d believed him the first time.  And the next time you stayed up all night with Angus, it was on the phone— he snuck out of bed with a bag of quarters, and told you the phone was free so you wouldn’t feel bad, and talked to you about everything he could possibly think of.

Except, you didn’t quite make it all night: you fell asleep at some point, while he was talking about his English paper… not that he could blame you.

And for some reason, one that even he himself couldn’t quite explain, he kept feeding the phone quarters and listening to you sleep; he didn’t hang up until it was nearly morning and he had to sneak back into his room.

[series masterlist here]

#angus tully x reader #angus tully smut

[thelastofhyde]

i. the likeability paradox.

pairing. joel miller x fem!reader

synopsis. joel miller is not a man who strives to be liked, with a chip on his shoulder and a scowl on his face, until his world is flipped on its axis when the pretty young thing living under bill and frank's roof, with an irritatingly unwavering smile and the literal sun shinning out her ass, says those five damned words: i don't like you, joel.

warnings. no use of y/n, enemies to lovers, slow burn ( i have several oneshots planned for this couple ), unrequited love ( except you will never catch joel miller admitting he feels anything beyond grief, hunger and exhaustion ), pining, poor communication no communication, no seriously joel is down bad it's actually disgusting and highkey 🚩toxic🚩 but luckily red is your favourite colour, sunshine!reader, grumpy!joel aka canon joel, kinda perv!joel ( if you squint ), implied queer!tess, undefined age gap ( reader implied late-20s ), descriptions of canon-typical violence, smut ( oral- f receiving, fingering, degradation, panty stealing, hair pulling, dirty talk, dubcon due to intoxication, joel kinda gives her a wedgie at some point and honestly i don’t know what i was hoping to achieve with that, discussions of a lacklustre sex-life pre-apocalypse ). reader is a) hinted at being shorter than joel but it’s not central to the plot and b) described as lithe but the meaning intended is graceful, not thin!

word count. 12.9k

hyde’s input. half-way through, the regret of choosing to write this from joel's pov started to settle in but lmao i was too far in to not commit to the bit. don't come at me for the fact the timeline or events may not seem plausible with canon, i just wanna write this silly little depraved fic about joel in peace :( anyway, enjoy my first attempt at writing for tlou, forming a prayer circle rn in hopes that this doesn't flop because i will cry and you will hear about it

taglist. @kayleezra​​ @newavenger + add yourself to the taglist here !​

read on ao3 ! ( capitalization available )

distaste is not new in the life of joel miller.

in particular, one that is loaded, aimed and fired directly at him. he is not a likeable guy, often by choice and rarely by accident. the years of pain from a bleeding wound have now scarred over into nothing but an empty shell of the man that once was, from a world that no longer is, and he’s tried little to fill himself back up.

if anything, he’s made himself more empty.

rid himself of feelings, that which saves him the weakness of appearing sympathetic. discarded the need for luxuries, for which he’d scarcely cared for prior to his world ending. lay to rest what was left of the optimist inside him, leaving behind the danger of hope for it to rot with the rest of the infected.

an apocalyptic world brings out all sides of man that one would never dare to engage with in normal civilisation. joel learned swiftly that he was built to endure, quick to evolve and adapt to the new world order. the man who once worked his hardest to keep the peace among his neighbours, smiling that little bit wider on days he’d catch them scowling to themselves in hopes of brightening one part of their day for even a simple moment, would be at odds with the man who wears a heavy layer of enjoyment when met with the scowling glances and the hushed voices, all the watch out for that miller guys passed between cowardly members of fedra and the keep away from mr. miller's lawns spoken harshly from mother to child becoming music to his failing ears.

this plague of fear-driven dislike keeps him alone, how he likes to be, no one to lose and nothing to be taken. somewhere along the years the idea of safety in numbers has morphed into an illusion, something people say and never truly mean, to distract themselves from a reality more bitter than a snowstorm: in times of survival, people become dead-weight.

“so that’s all i am to ya, huh? dead-fucking-weight?” his brother’s voice still echoes in that damned space he calls a home, weeks or months or years since the day he’d departed for something else, somewhere else, leaving joel to do what joel does best: endure.

somehow, silence was easier than telling the man he’d taught to tie a shoelace, to shave his beard, to tune a guitar that he was the dead-weight, doomed to drag all those who remained too close down into his pit of despair.

she was an exception, his tess, buried 5-feet-under in her own swell of darkness, nothing but the tips of her fingers stretched out above her head to feel the sun upon her skin and keep her from going that last foot deeper. they’d made a home for themselves in one another, one where he keeps them fed, and she keeps them safe, and neither of them keeps the place clean.

she never asks for more, and he never offers it, both content to survive without the weight of affection smothering them. contrary to the belief of any misfortunate soul who’s encountered the pair within the quarantine zone, she is the one who holds the leash, tugging joel along close by her heel and keeping him from wandering off into the wild to surrender himself to a feral lifestyle.

which lands him here, sat at a table playing happy family, each time he dares to snark out a few words being met with the sharp kick of tess’ foot against his shin.

“... and then,” frank struggles over a cough, so excited in his story-telling that he fails to separate taking a breath from taking a sip of his wine. with a roll of eyes and a disapproving grunt, bill’s no more than two seconds away from clapping down on his back, urging the other man’s wind-pipes to unblock and welcome back airflow. “otis dragged his muddied self over the whole house. we were finding paw-prints for days!”

joel’s unamused, too keen to think of what a nuisance that would be. as if incapable of feeling the buzzing energy of disinterest, the german shepherd drops its head further up his lap, begging for a morsel of anything that sits atop the table.

“which means i was cleaning paw-prints for days.” bill, the only one at the table besides himself who wears the looks of a cynic, grumbles out before shovelling what remains on his plate into his mouth.

frank is quick to shush him.

“i’m sorry, again, bill,” he doesn’t mean to break eye-contact from the mutt at his thigh, but the voice calls to him like a siren calls to a ship in the night, like a flame dances and seduces a moth into its brightly burning touch of death, a spotlight in the dark which promises- or threatens- more light to come. “i’d no clue there was a storm coming till we were already a good few miles away, and there was nowhere to take cover to wait it out.”

there you sit, parallel to him.

the sun rests lower in the sky as time carries you all into the late noon, its rays a beacon of light bursting out just behind your head, painting you in the glow of the golden hour and staining a mockery of a halo above you. it hurts his eyes, this brightness that you so easily bask in, forcing him to squint and deepen the frown on his face.

you catch him with his sights on you, at some point, and the smile you meet his scowl with has him cursing at the sun, and the moon, and every star that sits between.

the threat of a great war looms in the air as you rush to rise up and help clear the table of the remnants left behind- none of which joel can account for, mouth to keen and body too starved to skip out on enjoying the mundane luxury of a fresh, home-cooked meal. the battle ends swiftly as you surrender to bill’s hardened stare, and frank’s disapproving head-shakes, and tess’ own plan of action to simply force you down back into the seat you’d been sat in- the one you always sit in.

“you, sit. no one should have to clean up the food they made.”

they get no fight out of him when they insist he’d done enough catching the so-called food.

silence casts its shadow over the table, dampening the light and painting you both in a mockery of greyed tones- truthfully, it is the disappearance of the sun hind a large cloud that causes such a thing.

being alone, with you, is something joel’s never mastered. the affliction of your presence is so much greater when there’s no one else to balance out your natural shine- the kind that has his head spinning and his cock aching-, no one but him.

were he not a sick bastard, he’d try harder to not make you sad.

something bumps his hands, ripping him out of his moral self-condemnation. the dog meets his gaze, eyes a widened mess of puppy-dog pleading that punctuates its existence with an impatient whine.

just like your owner, he finds himself thinking and not saying- never saying-, yet to find your bark.

the ball’s a sticky mess of slobber and dirt, and joel touches it all the same, throwing it up in the air once, then twice, before tossing it across the yard. he’s slumped back in his chair by the time he registers the dog’s departure, a ball of dark fluff bouncing its way across the garden, and all the man can think is fuck, he’ll be feeling the effect of that throw on his shoulder come the morning.

the pain is not enough to stop him from tossing the ball again, and once more, and then yet again, sending the dog in a never ending loop of chase, grab, retrieve- a parallel to his life of wake, survive, sleep.

“he likes you,” you never leave things the way he wishes them to be, bursting his bubble with the vocal reminder of your presence.

as if on queue, prompted by your addressing of it, the dog drops its interest in joel, and the ball, and the chasing, tail wagging uncontrollably by the time it reaches your side. standing on its hind legs, it collapses the front of itself into your waiting lap, and joel watches how you wrap your arms so easily around something that could cause you harm.

to envy a creature that licks it own shit off its ass is a new low for joel.

“thinkin’ he might like ya more, sol.” the nickname rolls off his tongue with ease, the safer option than uttering your name, a vice and virtue he’s only permitted himself in idealistic fantasies that play out in his own troubled thoughts.

“most people do,” whether you mean to make it seem like you’re degrading his very existence or not, he’s unsure, but it rouses a chuckle out of him.

he takes note of how you don’t protest the name he’s branded you with, not like how you’d fought tooth and nail against it every other visit he and tess have made.

“you’ve got a whole load in common, you know? i think that’s got something to do with his fascination-”

“how the hell’s a man like me got somethin’ in common with a four-legged mutt?” there he goes again, making that smile slip down your cheeks with a simple use of his voice. it helps as much as it hurts, frown loosening up and eyes no longer strained beneath the bright shine of your visceral optimism.

“well, you’re both... hairy,” he restrains himself from reacting, washing down a laugh with the help of the dregs of wine that lay collecting at the bottom of his glass. he’s let his appearance grow more rugged over the past few months and your noticing of this brings an unwanted warmth to his aching bones. “and have the most kickass women in your lives to stop you from dying.”

he’s interested to know what life would be like under your protection.

discovering the answer brings the threat of pain, and loss, and an openness to vulnerability he can not afford himself, so he takes the safer option: “‘s easy stayin’ safe when you live in this fantasy land. doubt your mutt’d last any longer than a day out in reality.”

with you as its protector.

he doesn’t say it and, still, it somehow hovers in the space between you both, a heavy, syrupy implication that slips down your throats and threatens to suffocate you. he watches you choke on it, coughing on his cruelty and feigning it to be a simple clearing of your throat. your eyes glue themselves on the dog, delicate fingers smoothing over the well-groomed hairs down its back.

survival has turned him into a man who knows when to seize an opportunity, and this is one he takes with both hands, basking in the simplicity of staring, watching, observing you without the crime of being caught.

but i could keep you safe.

he toys with the danger of uttering such a thing aloud. it’s not the first time he’s thought it. truthfully, he’s unsure when it first nestled its way into his mind.

his memory, which ails him more than it aids him these past years, would have him believe it was way before the dog had even appeared, back when it was just bill, frank and you. a few whiskeys in and a campfire lit for you all to gather for warmth around- why you’d all chosen to sit out in the gardens on a winter’s night joel remains unsure of to this day-, it was frank who’d prompted the question. “where were you all when... this started?” tess went first, braver than most people he knows, sharing stories of a version of herself he’ll never meet. 

he never imagined her working in a bank.

bill, with reluctance, took the next step, keeping his account factual and to the point. “was shit-faced drunk and getting my stomach pumped.” he’d been quick to skim over the story of the young nurse who’d guided him to safety out the hospital, losing her own life in exchange for his survival. she was barely out of school. “i knew her dad, bit of an asshole, but boy, was he proud of his baby for graduating.” frank couldn’t let him swim too deep in his thoughts, afraid a current of guilt would trap him and drown him in the depths of it, and so he raised his own voice and began his tale.

joel had always been a good listener. being a single parent to a teenage girl required him to be, or so... she would have had him believe, nights at the table set for two spent listening to the playground he-said-she-said gossip. years later and he at last prefers things this way, a rare gem of safety found in the act of saying nothing and hearing everything- that his hearing will allow. all this to say, he’d tried his best to pay attention to frank’s impassioned retelling of his heroic misadventures that had lead him to the unintentional arms of bill.

but you weren’t smiling.

he watched you, you watched the dancing flames, face stoic and drained of that natural shine his eyes had only just started to be able to gaze upon without the threat of being blinded by such light.

the desire crept up on him like a tiger to it’s prey, hiding in the far off bushes until the opportunity to strike presented itself and the feeling lunged for joel’s back, gripping him in its claws and piercing his ribcage with its gnashing teeth. with each bite, it plagued him with the delusions of a wandering mind, imagination left free to run laps around his head with visions of you from another life, another time, another set of people gathered round a dining table. he’d wanted to hear about the ones you’d lost, and comfort you with all the things he hated hearing (“you’ll keep ‘em alive, in spirit and memory!” “those we remember never truly die!”). he’d needed to bend a knee and swear a vow to be the one to stand between you and death, to fight for your survival on your behalf. ‘could keep you safe. there, then, the thought did cross his mind.

he’d washed it down with a swig of lukewarm, flat beer.

“-could fix it, you know. i’m good with my hands.”

he almost chokes on his own breath.

i'm good with my hands, it swims in circles round his mind, replaying and echoing off the walls of his skull. and he knows- oh, how he knows- that he’ll be replaying it in those moments of solitude for the next few nights, weeks, months- however long it may take till he forgets the way such thought-provoking words sound on your lips.

“what?” the question leaves him harsher than he intends, drawing an enemy line between you both with the foul sound of it. in the corner of his eye, he swears he sees you flinch backwards, physically recoiling from the disdain-filled bullet he fires in your direction.

the mutt in your lap retreats, hackles rising as it turns to face joel once more.

he sees it, in the dog’s brutal protectiveness over you, this similarity you claim exists.

“your watch, it’s broken.”

“hadn’t noticed,” he’s retreating into his own space now, mentally and physically, scraping the legs of his chair against the ground as his mind works to strengthen those walls that threaten to crumble so often in your presence. “don’t need ya to fix it.”

you pull a face, brows furrowing and lips pouting. confusion.

“don’t you want to know the time?” you ask, as if time could ever be relevant in a rotten world where down is up, and up is down, and joel miller is not the overprotective father to the most delicate creature the god he’d stopped believing in had gifted him, just to force him to watch as life snatched her away.

“i don’t keep it for the time.”

you smile, and this one’s a killer, piercing straight through the cages of his ribs to carve itself into his withered heart.

the german shepherd relaxes with the rebrightening of your aura, shaking out the tension from its body before sauntering its way back over to joel, ball in mouth and tail wagging excitedly, as if it hadn’t just contemplated having its first taste of human flesh.

he’s throwing the toy in a matter of minutes, enjoying the repeated run and retrieve game, and the renewed silence that comes along with it. nature sings its tune with rustling leaves, cawing crows, and pounding paws. it’s almost so easy to leave your offer, your words, his broken watch in the rearview mirror of this otherwise pleasant afterno-

“ooh, so there’s a story to tell!” you’re blinding him with your excitement, lithe limbs leaning forward in your own chair in an attempt to reach closer, table between you be damned. “i’ve never heard any of the joel miller backstory, this should be-”

“i get that likin’ everyone is your thing, but would’ya give it a rest?”

nature falls silent.

skies grow dull.

you juggle sadness.

there’s a crash that comes from within the house, followed by the unmistakable sound of tess’ sailor mouth, cursing whichever delicate dish she’s broken into smithereens with the help of her accident prone hands. the dog’s lain itself down upon the grass, ball between it’s paws as it begins to bite, and chew, and break it under the pressure of its canines.

joel wonders what the mutt’s practicing for.

“sure,” then, with the return of your voice, all sounds resume, harmony upon planet earth once more. only, the gates have been shut in his face and joel finds himself forced to watch as everything unfolds from the outside, an unwelcome visitor forced out into exile with the fungal freaks and the inhumane. “but you’re wrong. i don’t like everyone.”

“‘s that so.” his eyes roll. the hole he’s dug for himself sinks deeper, casting you higher up on the pedestal joel will always be wiling to place you on.

“yeah,” you’ve risen out your chair, gifting him the view of how the fabric of your dress dances above your knee, a final twist of the knife in his heart that he lets you pierce his flesh with each time he surrenders himself to your existence. “i don’t like you, joel.”

the hours come and go, but your words linger like a bad tattoo, shamefully engraved into his skin and banning him to a life of noticing the horrendous thing each time he passes by his own reflection.

we’re staying, for tonight. tess had called the shots, and he’s been learning not to argue when she gives him one of her stern looks, biting down on the comments he’d wanted to make of the dangers of being out of the qz for too long, which would likely earn him nothing but a shrug and the reminder that they both were off duty the following day

the nights are beginning to grow darker as winter grows nearer, leading bill and frank- mostly frank- to excuse themselves to bed, bidding the two visitors with a final reminder to make themselves comfortable in whichever room they can find. if only joel could remember which door leads to yours.

the two women in his life remain awakened, passing a bottle of wine between each other as you both converse back and forth, catching each other up on one another’s life, satiating that craving for mundane gossip.

tess recounts the scandal of the poor boy who’d been caught sleeping with a fedra agent’s wife, you whisper that frank and bill had been fighting again recently. the memory of being ambushed by raiders- now dead raiders- comes to life once more with the help of tess’ voice, while the promise to uncover what exactly bill and frank were hiding from you as of late is sealed in your words.

at some point, he lays himself to rest atop the couch, legs stretched out and arms crossed over his chest, ignoring the squeeze of the fabric over his forearms as the too-small flannel struggles to contain the muscles forged by the need to survive. at another point, he’s lulled to sleep by the lullaby of your mingling voices, a safety blanket draping itself over his tired body and enveloping him in the comforts of having that which he struggles to care so little for, so near him once more.

-n’t tell me you’re a virgin.

the words are muffled as the man slips back into consciousness, a frown coming to rest on his forehead as he battles against the demons urging him awake, the nightmarish memories of car crashes, and soldiers, and so much red chasing him away from the sleep he longs for so badly.

a protest rings true in his head and his ears.

was gonna say. knew you were young, but not that young.

it’s the sound of your laughter that awakens him fully, saving him from the tortures of his own mind.

“god, no! me and my ex, we... a few times. it was alright, i guess. i just, yeah, there’s not much to miss.”

he’s unwilling, unable to reopen his eyes, curling in on himself as he rolls over onto his side. a groan slips past his lips, one he’s hoping tess and you will dismiss as nothing more than the sleep-filled rambles of a dreaming man.

neither of you make any acknowledgement of him.

“not much to miss?! sweet christ, you’re breaking my fuckin’ heart.” he’s learnt over time the common traits of a drunken tess. each word becoming an exclamation, curses becoming more frequent, and that irritating habit she’s picked up of imitating his own accent. there’s no need to bother opening his eyes, joel’s already sure he’ll find his companion with flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. “i’d give up a hand for some head!”

you must do something, pull a face or shake your head, for the sound of tess’ renewed shock fills the room. he wonders, as the sound bounces off the walls, how late into the night it’s grown.

late enough that the cicadas singing outside the window are now accompanied by the hoots of an owl.

“you’ve got to be shittin’ me.”

“it bores me!”

“it bores you!?”

the couch beneath joel creaks as he shifts once more, turning his back on you both as the ability to contain his laughter grows harder with each word you exchange and each gasp tess gives. the last thing he needs is to be caught eavesdropping on your sex life like some dirty old pervert.

the crueler part of his mind replays your voice, i don’t like you, and the knife twists in his guts this time.

you like tess. love her, even. it’s been that way since the first time you’d met the duo, eyes giving one look over the woman before the smile on your face grew even wider, voice as sweet as honey sighing out finally someone with a pair of boobs, i’m bored of the sight of my own. joel’d gotten caught up in the thought of how he’d never tire of such a sight that he’d failed to acknowledge your greeting towards him, catching just the moment you drew your outstretched hand back to your side and offered him an understanding smile.

maybe that was the moment you decided you didn’t like him.

“must not have been doin’ ya right,” the bottle of southern comfort is working its wonders on the older woman, accent growing further and further from its true nature with each glass she nurses. joel hears the faint sound of ice smacking against glass and knows it must be yours. you’ve always struggled with liquors, slipping as many ice cubes as you can manage into a glass in hopes that they’ll eventually melt and water the alcohol down. it’s oddly endearing, you think no one has noticed. “this fella of yours.”

joel has no right to despise the idea of you and some fella.

he does so, regardless.

“well,” he imagines the shape of your meek smile and the way you shrug your shoulders. “we were each others firsts.”

“that’s no excuse! trust i left mine cryin’ into her pillow the first time i went down.” tess and he have a silent agreement to never speak of the nights joel would take refuge on their beaten-up couch while tess indulges herself between someone’s thighs in the bedroom. no discussing the sounds she pulls from her concubines, no addressing the wet patches left behind to stain their shared sheets, and definitely no speaking on how his hand winds up stained in his own cum.

you scoff and follow it up with a saccharine laced giggle, so sweet its bound to rot your teeth if you even attempt to hold it in. “what, are you offering your services?”

this he likes less than the image of you with some fella, the thought of having to lay upon a mattress on which tess had raised you to heaven while he once again remained locked out in the dark leaving his skin crawling with unwarranted rage.

“‘as sure as i am that you’re sweet all over, ‘fraid to tell you i like my women a little older than you.”

he knows he should do the same, should lust after those women his own age who shoot him carnal looks in the streets of the qz. it should be skin his own age that he longs to taste, and eyes who’ve seen as much as his own he wants to stare into, and lips as cruel as the ones he owns that he fights off the urges to kiss. but he can’t, and he won’t.

and you’re the one to blame.

you, with the glow of a thousand suns. you, with the hands that tend to flowers instead of corpses. you, with the gentle nature he’d have to spend the rest of his days fighting off every other living thing just to protect.

his own self being the first he’d need fight.

joel wonders what he’d missed in his hours- if it had even been so long- of rest, how the playground gossiping dissipated into reminiscing the pleasures of supple flesh and the sins of unfulfilling lovers. sleep steals him away once more before he can find the answers.

the next time he awakens, he’s drowning in a plight of cruel memories, a cold and brutal ocean of faces, places, and traces of the ephemeral sentiment of happiness he’d possessed once upon a time, back when the price of letting one’s guard down was not so high.

he’s learnt, with time, that losing her comes in waves. some small, meaningless little things, that ripple joel’s surface and coast gently over his dirt ridden skin. others, tsunamis. big, angry, all imposing. they’re born in ground-shaking explosions of grief, building speed, and height, and weight the closer they grow to crashing over him.

amidst the passing of time, he’s tried to keep himself busy in his awakened hours, to keep his mind occupied and avoid thinking about her too much. but the waves always come back, no matter how hard he tries to fight them or swim away from them. they catch him off guard, crashing over him when he least expects it. in the middle of a raid, lost in thought and standing ten inches deep in grime, blood, infected, and suddenly the weight of her absence will hit him like a ton of bricks.

the currents grow more violent whenever he closes his eyes.

this evening, it had been a minuscule wave, yet it’s damage still leaves him with sweat slicked skin. he reenters the land of the living choking on his own fear and shooting up-right, hardly registering his surroundings till his feet hit solid ground. the gentle, barely-there croon of a sinatra record punctuates the room alongside the dim glow of a lightbulb which flickers with the threat of expiring and leaving naught but the moonlight to wash over the dark of the night. across from him is tess, nursing a half-emptied cup against her chest and wearing tired eyes. snoring comes from below him, where joel finds he’s a mere foot away from having stepped upon the sleeping dog, curled in on itself and laying soundly by his side.

you take up no space of this room.

neither the dog nor the drunk pay him any mind as he pushes up onto his creaking knees, stretching out his limbs in a fight to undo the tension in his aching bod. languid steps carry him out into the hall, where he freezes under the self-questioning of where he’s going.

there are three answer to this: where he should, where he could, and where he would.

he should find himself a bedroom, perhaps be ostentatious enough to rid himself of those stale clothes and let the warmth of running water wash away the sins he’d committed throughout the day. a good night’s sleep, atop a mattress where springs do not dig into his back and the sheets are clean as could be, it would do him good.

he could head towards the kitchen, quench that thirst that he’s awoken with, cottonmouth and a headache to go with it too. perhaps he’ll find himself something to eat, indulge in the luxury of readily available food just this once, he’s sure frank wouldn’t mind. bill definitely would, but that’s not something he’ll need care about when he’s miles out and heading back to the qz.

he would try find you, open whichever door it is that leads into the haven that must be your bedroom. he imagines its clean, and organised, and smells of some syrupy lavender that is bound to nauseate him as he smothers his face into your bedsheets, eyes shut, and mind relaxed, the threat of those violent waves no concern to him as he anchors himself with an arm around your warm skin. skin he’s never felt, yet he stands firm in his belief it must be the most soothing thing to touch, as gentle and inviting as the heart it keeps safe within it.

i don’t like you, joel.

those words stop him from trying.

he tells himself it’s for the best.

with a mind of their own, his legs have made the choice for him and deliver him outside the opening to the kitchen. he swallows down a gulp of his own saliva at the prospect of a glass of water. the door’s already half-opened, and joel nearly thanks christ for it as the fear of waking anyone with the squeaking of the handle is eliminated. the darkness of the night encompasses the room, even with the moon’s shine reflecting off every surface it touches: the counters, the knife stand, the metal drawer handles, the refrigerator.

the refrigerator.

it’s open, a blue light shining out of it and illuminating anything it its proximity. a subtle beeping noise rings from it, and suddenly joel’s back in his thirties, dead-beat yet well-intentioned brother stealing the food off his own plate as he beckons his pre-teen daughter back into the kitchen.

keep leavin’ this open and it’s a job you’ll be gettin’ this summer, not a dog.

she never lived long enough to get either.

he catches something move beneath the artificial light. cautious at first, it’s all the more startling to find the object of his ire and the embodiment of his desire stood leaning back against the countertop, a glass full of orange liquid pressed to a mouth that parts and welcomes in the sugary sweet delight.

“why aren’t ya sleepin’?” the words rasp out his throat, catching and scratching on the parts of him that still yearn for something to wet his tongue with.

beneath the light, you shrug, “could ask you the same thing, texas.”

he curses tess for teaching you such a nickname.

he curses himself more for the way you saying it twists up his insides.

you’re teasing him, smile a little looser and eyes less focused than he’s used to seeing. whether you’re tipsy or simply delirious with exhaustion, joel remains unaware.

he grunts, daring to take a few steps further into the kitchen. the door behind him closes over and give the illusion of the space becoming smaller, tighter, more compact.

“i asked first.” you laugh, at him. full on chest-rumbling, hand over your belly, head thrown back- so abruptly it nearly crashes against the corner of the opened cabinet door. the corner of his mouth is curling upwards before he can catch himself. he hopes the refrigerator light shows less of him than it shows of you, bare legs, and messed hair, and pointed nipples all on display for his undeserving eyes. “‘s so funny, huh?”

“nothing, nothing,” he successfully fights off the urge to follow the drop of orange juice that spills down the side of your mouth, over your chin, down your neck, disappearing beneath the collar of your dress. perhaps he is not as successful as he believes. “just never heard the joel miller say something so childish. you’ve usually got your panties all in a bunch if someone so much as looks at you for too long.”

you make way as he inches closer, sliding yourself over to rest against the island counter. a fragrance of things he can’t quite pinpoint, but enjoys nonetheless, wafts in his face as he travels down the path to the sink. uncouth and unbothered, joel opens the tap and cups his hands beneath the stream of water.

“you know there’s a cupboard full of glasses right next to you, right?” you call out behind him as the man brings water to his dry lips, splashing and just about guiding his head beneath the stream. the thirst does not budge. he hums an acknowledgement of you, yet continues with his method.

by the time he switches the water off, you’ve made yourself busy, back facing him while you work at something atop the counter, a consistent chop-chop-chop filling the silence that settles between you both.

“i’m making soup,” you state, like there’s nothing quite more logical you could be doing at whatever-o’clock in the morning it is. “make sure you take some with you when you leave. tess said she’s been fighting off a cold the past few days, need you to keep her warm and fed for me.”

would you do the same for him, if you knew he’d been the one to catch that damned cold in the first place? four days of just about coughing up his lungs, and not a single soul- not even his tess- had offered soup, nor warmth, nor sympathy. he’d not needed it, until now, when he hears you gifting it to someone else.

i don’t like you, joel.

of course you would do the same. not because you care, nor because doing otherwise would way heavy on your conscious, but because you’re nice. nice in a way he’ll never be, has never been. patient, welcoming, comforting, warm. all words that spring to mind when one thinks of you. they violently oppose the closed-off, angry, dark cloud that had rolled in years ago and casted it’s shadow over joel’s entire persona.

he straightens his back, weight shifting from one foot to another as he contemplates you from behind. the sway of your dress as you move has him in a trance, beckoning him closer before he can even realise he’s taken a step. his hands drip water onto the floor in a rhythm, and the record player sings in the distance as a reminder of tess, and your sweet out-of-tune humming fills the empty kitchen with a brightness greater than the moon, but that’s not what joel hears.

i don’t like you, joel.

i don’t like you, joel.

i don’t like you, joel.

i don’t like you, joel.

over and over, you taunt him without even trying, nailing the words into his head and heart, impaling him with your sweet condemnation. you’re not the first to say it, to his face or otherwise, yet you’re the first to evoke such a reaction out of him, to leave a lasting impression hours after you’d declared such a thing.

and, suddenly, joel’s angry. at you, at himself, at the sound of that damned knife in your hand slicing down onto the chopping board. the fog of his ire blurs his vision, rendering him to move blindly through the night.

only when he finds himself looming over you from behind does his vision clear.

a hand meets the curve of your hip and you gasp, leaving joel to wonder if it’s because the shock of his cold, damp touch or, simply, because it’s his touch. without a thought spared, he firms his grip, fingers squeezing tight enough he feels your flesh bulge between each one, a bruising promise joel gifts you.

you may leave your marks emotionally, but joel’s will always be physical.

“why,” he pulls in a breath, loading up the will to keep his voice a low rumble, a quiet disturbance in the night for no ears but your own to hear. “don’t ya like me?”

if not for the pause in your practiced movements, knife stilling midway through slicing a carrot, he’d believe you’re unaffected by his proximity. “why do you care?” 

he scoffs, “i don’t.”

“hmm,” this hum is far less delightful than the way you’d been following along to whatever melody tess was playing in the living room. “sure sounds like you do.”

“yeah, well, i don’t,” he insists, and he swears he almost feels the way it only digs deeper the hole he’s created for himself.

joel knows he cares. it’s been burning at his skin and itching on his mind since the moment you’d welcomed yourself to a little bit of unfiltered honesty, dropping the perfectly poised and eternally polite mask you’d worn since the moment he’d first met you, an attitude he loathes as much as he anticipates surrounding himself with it each time he’s tugged along for the trek to bill and frank’s. 

what joel doesn’t know is why he cares. there’s nothing to be desired about him, no traits to respect and certainly no looks to admire. he’s near crafted his entire being in a way that makes sure of this, the more undesirable his presence is, the less likely he is to be approached, be it by other people or fate itself.

maybe there was a part of him that had wrongfully imagined you being the exception.

instead, you’re stood barefoot in the latest of hours, knife working away the vegetables in front of you, dress sticking to skin beneath his damp hand, and you don’t like him.

not one bit.

joel grabs at your hips harder, his free hand curling round the shape of your left forearm. his feet shuffle forwards, until there comes a point where one would struggle to make out where you end and he begins. his chest pressed to your back, his muscular legs trapping your soft thighs, his forehead digging into the side of your head so intensely it threatens to shatter both your craniums and leave nothing but dust made by bones blown into smithereens.

he inhales, and finds you don’t smell of lavender.

“for the record,” he watches your movements over your shoulder, entranced with the back and forth sawing of the knife through unidentified vegetables. ‘s like how i sliced that raider’s throat, he thinks, and instantly regrets it. no part of him should ever be compared to you. “i don’t like ya either.”

he’s lying through his teeth, hoping you don’t notice.

the knife never ceases its movement. back and forth, back and forth. chop, chop, chop. blurs of greens, and oranges, and more greens cover the counter before you. it’s oddly soothing, this repeated and unbroken pattern, reminding joel of times he’d found comfort in the mundaneness of cooking a meal after an emotionally exhausting day. perhaps, this has the same affect on you, a momentary lifejacket to keep yourself afloat amongst the waves that haunt you awake.

the hand on your forearm travels, mind of its own, drawing up the shape of your shoulder with featherlight touches that contradict the way his nails dig deeper into the the skin you hide beneath the waistline of your dress.

“that’s not news,” you must think he’s blind to the hitch in your breath when his fingers slip over your pulse-point. 

it’s his turn to respond with a hum.

“you only like yourself,” words more untrue have never been spoken before the man who’s every moment is spent drowning in his loses. his wandering touch halts. “a little selfish, if you ask me. but, that’s just what i think.”

this strikes a nerve. fury commands his hand into a fist and fingers find themselves tangled in the tresses of your hair. the realisation of how surprisingly soft it feels barely finishes registering when he’s pulling on it, dragging your head along with, till it lays flat on his puffing chest and your eyes stare up at him. “d’ya know what i think?”

even upside down, your beauty is striking.

“no, unlike you i don’t care what you think about-” joel tugs on your hair once more.

“i think you’re a brat. a silly little girl who thinks she can smile and get away with murder.” you could. he’d forgive you as you soak your hands in the blood you draw from him. knife in the heart, bullet through the brain, bat to the face, he’d slip away easily from this life if only to have you smile as he goes.

 “you’re hurting me,” you whine, joel growls.

animalistic, beastly, a rabid animal sinking its claws into its defenceless prey. his gaze dances over your features, catching himself before he can sink deep into your captivating eyes, tracing the shape of your mouth, slipping down the peaks of your collarbones.

your dress- red, a colour joel miller will no longer associate with bleeding wounds and stained weapons- sits tight on your chest, squeezing the swell of your chest beneath the fabric, and gives away all your secrets.

“you like it,” he speaks in awe, unable to pull his eyes off the two stiff buds that poke against the red fabric.

“no, i don’-” dampness follows wherever his hand goes, fleeting as he makes the journey around your waist and up your side, crawling higher and higher to where he can feel your heart beating from within your chest. “joel.”

he retightens his grip on your hair, aiding you with the way your curve your spine and force yourself deeper into his uncaring, ungentle, enamoured touch. whoever joel had been in a past life must have moved mountains or performed miracles to grant him the luck to be holding you this way, the fingers he’d gifted with nothing but the cocking of guns and the feel of his own pulsating lust now expertly tweaking at one of your stiff nipples, all thoughts of the fabric scratching at your sensitive skin dissipating into the abyss as he realises you’re enjoying the pain.

“heard ya, earlier, in the living room,” at the time, he’d been mortified to be overhearing such intimate words between you and tess. the blood that insists on rushing to his crotch now wants you to know, to hear the admission of guilt be spoken from his own mouth. “ talkin’ bout your past.”

he doesn’t specify.

he doesn’t need to.

you give away your shock with parted lips, widened eyes, frozen eyelashes, pupils staring up at him like a wounded fawn he’s about to take his first bite out of and, hopefully, it won’t be the last one.

“tess turned you down,” the hand on your chest switches sides, donning your other breast with some much needed attention. his hand must still carry residue of the water, for you gasp and shut your eyes in the shock of his touch, your own fingers shooting up to scratch at his wrist. near convinced you mean to push him away, the pressure against his hand that pushes deeper into his unholy affection has him realising otherwise. “i wouldn’t.”

you say nothing. joel pulls harder.

“too bad i’m-” you cut yourself off as he presses himself closer to you, your poor hips bound to awaken with bruises from the counter he’s got you pressed against. with a distance so small he can hear your teeth grind, joel watches you like a hawk. the twitch in your brow, the flutter of your eyelids, the bobbing of your throat as you silence what he imagines would be an otherworldly kind of moan, a whine he’d let kiss his ears and wind up poisoning himself with the torture of it replaying in his head each waking moment till he kicks the bucket, once and for all. the want to see you fall apart evolves into a need. “too bad i’m not offering you the chance.”

joel miller is a hot blooded man, at his core, weak to emotions and vulnerable to the warmths of flesh. with notches on his bedpost and a tally of lives beneath his belt, he sees little wrong with taking what he needs.

“who said anything about an offer?”

the descent to the floor is far from graceful, with bitten back groans of pain as clicking noises resound throughout the room while his joints bend and break in an effort to get him where he needs to be, where he’s needed to be for far longer than merely this exchange on kitchen grounds: on his knees for you.

a part of him would prefer it if you weren’t wielding a butchers knife.

the other part wishes you were facing him, eyes full of that repressed anger, hatred and discontent you likely harbour for him as you point the blade down at him and threaten to paint the floors with his blood. you’ve yet to do that, and so he takes it as his queue to progress.

smoothing his hands up your legs, he admires the landscapes of your body from this angle, with legs longer than any tree in the amazonian jungle and curves with peaks that resemble the mountains of the himalayas. arriving at the top of your knees, the hem of your dress both welcomes and conceals his touch, inviting him into the wonderful world it hides beneath it yet denying him the privilege of feasting his eyes on your paradise, an island of safety amongst the open ocean of his mind.

your breathing is measured, precise, too rhythmical to be natural, the subconscious action now turned into a practiced routine you mean to maintain nonchalance with. perhaps you’re yet to realise that, while he may remain indifferent to those that surround him, joel knows how to read people. and, right now, you’re a whole novel of lust, awaiting for someone to open up your pages and drink in every lyrical prose you promise to tell.

joel finds purchase mid-way up your thighs, hands sliding around to the front of them to grip the buttery smooth skin and ground himself in the reality he kneels before.

you breathe in, you breathe out.

one knee buckles, ever so slightly, the weight of you collapsing into his welcoming hold. he revels in the feeling of supporting you, in every meaning of the word, thumbs not even waiting on a command from his consciousness to begin soothing your tingling skin with a gentle back and forth movement to match the knife in your hand.

inhale, exhale.

your legs straighten once more, a hand of his winds its way back out from under your skirt and shoots up to grab your free one, dragging it down his pits of desire.

“hold,” he’s parched all over again, mouth drier than the texan wastelands on a hot summer’s day. all he can do to survive is peel up that infuriatingly soft, red fabric of your dress, skin unveiling itself to his hunger struck eyes. with the skirt bunched up, he shoves it into your awaiting palms, pinning your hand against your own waist. “don’t move.”

where he expects protest, he receives more breathing.

lace covers your skin, a delicate shade of a colour his eyes can’t quite distinguish in the dark of the night. one flicker of his sight to the very core of your body and he notices it, that tell-tale sign that you’re enjoying this little display of attention, despite what your measured breaths may have him believe. a wet patch, your wetness. the stickiest, sweetest of honeys that only a woman like you can possess, and a man like him should never bare himself witness to.

curiosity gets the better of him- one day, joel hopes, this will get him killed- and his touch is reaching for the lacy fabric, fingers curling themselves in the waistband of your panties and the fabric that covers your right asscheek before curling his hand into a fist, tugging upwards.

in and out, shaky breathing comes from above.

the lace pulls tight on your delicate skin, no choice but to nestle itself in the slit of your cunt as two pretty soaked lips peak out from each side. a heady smell he can only begin to describe as stiflingly sweet, tongue-tingling tanginess hits his nose. he makes sure to take a deep breath, letting the blood rush straight to his head- the one that sits packed uncomfortably in his tightened trousers.

delectable as sin, you keen back into his fist, back curving ever so slightly. there’s a tremor in the hold you have on the fabric of your dress. joel basks in the visual affect he’s beginning to have on you, no need to doubt if the fabric of your underwear rubs at your likely aching clit. he wonders if the sting of the lace digging into your skin hurts. he thinks it must hurt.

his fist curls tighter, pulls higher.

“ah,” at last, a ripple in your surface. though you still wield a knife, the carrot you’d been failing to chop rolls off the counter and onto the floor, lost somewhere in joel’s peripheral vision.

“shut up,” he grunts, like it doesn’t make his balls throb to hear you whine. “people are tryin’ to sleep.”

you scoff, and for a moment you seem to have rediscovered your composure. “tess is drunk as a sailor, and the old men could sleep through nuclear warfare.”

“‘s that an invitation to see how loud i can get ya,” he’s still caught in the way you mold against the lace, slickened skin carrying a reflection of the moonlight. this, he thinks, is what all them poets were writing about in their prose of love and beauty. “or a challenge?”

“it’s an invitation to stop lecturing me on volume control,-” you catch yourself, he realises, right before you can gift him some nickname a sweet girl like you would never use. asshole, dickhead, bastard, he’s heard them all and, still, he wants them on your tongue, in his mouth, condemning him for all the brutish, oafish ways he masks his obsession for you.

as coquettish as it may be, painting a picture worthy of a front-page on some playboy magazine, the sight of lace becomes a nuisance he no longer holds the patience for. so he strips you of it, hand moving to pull the garment down, down, down the length of you, till it hits your ankles. he awaits no movement of your own, taking it upon himself to lift each of your feet individually out the leg-holes.

it’s merely impulse that has him shoving the soiled lace into his back pocket, though he’s sure he’ll make use of them on lonely nights.

“you’re drippin’” his proclamation is ego-driven, pride swelling in his chest as he takes in the full sight of your bare heat. the view is a little obscured from behind you, but with the right amount of tilting of your hips at a certain angle and the widening of your legs, he’s bound to sit front row and centre for your private show. “‘s actually a little pathetic, sweetheart. is it cause ya like it when men get mean wit’ ya?”

he can imagine the way you’d roll your eyes at his words, and it has him thinking about how you’d look with your eyes rolling back for different reasons, reasons he’s about to gift you.

but first, he curls one hand around your ankle and tugs the limb along as far as he wants it. much better, he now faces no blockage in the path up to your slit, freely letting his wandering hands ascend to his newfound heaven. perhaps he’ll revisit the life of gospel, if you promise to be the altar he prays before.

cool fingers to warm skin, you swallow a gasp a little too late for joel to not notice as he drags the tips of his middle finger up the length of your slit. soft, puffy lips part for him, until he presses against that special button that’s bound to turn on your engines.

rolling his finger over your clit a few times, he refamiliarises himself with the female anatomy, with your anatomy, memorising each soft bump and meaty lump he finds along the way.

it happens so sudden, and unwillingly, the way his mind switches to thinking of tess. he wonders what exactly it is she does to those poor things she sends home on shaky legs, where she even begins to touch them. joel imagines she makes use of what she has and starts with her fingers.

so he does the same.

working over your slippery wetness, he coats the tip of his middle finger with it, till he finds what he’s been searching for: the gateways to your heaven, your entrance. he breaches your walls with that single digit and somehow that’s enough to have you squeezing around him so tightly he wonders if blood still manages to flow to his digit.

two, three, four pumps of his hand and he’s introducing his pointer finger too, pressing them both into you to witness the ways you mould around this wider stretch, the lips of your cunt a pair of cushions his knuckles collide against each time he fucks his fingers in.

“so now you shut up. ‘s the matter, huh?” he’s contradicting himself and he doesn’t even care, too busy focusing on curling his fingers inside you, delighting in the feel of that spongy tissue they press against. “am i too borin’ for ya?”

“you’re the most infuriating man i’ve ever- oh!”

a tongue meets skin.

the knife clatters onto the counter.

you lurch forward.

his hand pulls you back.

“tess was right, ya know?” he can still taste you on his tongue, nothing more than a simple lick over your slit and your salty pleasure already seeps deep into his veins, staining his very being with the memory of his new favourite flavour. he pulls his fingers out, slipping them up to your clit. three little taps to the pulsing bud- tap, tap, tap- and he’s slipping them into his mouth, tongue working overtime to clean up every last drop of you that coats him. “that boy of yours wasn’t doin’ ya right.”

the common sense that screams at him to not feel envy over some ex-lover, someone who was likely barely even an adult at the time and no longer appears to be around, is no match for the green eyed beast that commands him to tell you, without using words, that he can do better- touch you better, protect you better, fuck you better, if you’d just let him.

‘could keep ya satisfied.

that’s a new thought, one he’s never needed before yet never wanted more, a burning ache to be worthy of your trust, affection, lust. he’ll never forget the first time he thinks it, mouth salivating at the sight of you.

“is this the part you say some cheesy line straight out a porno? what ya need is a man, a man like me!” the softness of your giggle is still sharp enough to cut through the tension, god it’s never sounded sweet, and joel finds himself freely smiling into the darkness, yet still too stubborn to laugh at the deep voice you attempt to imitate him with.

“well, was you who said it,” his mouth finds it’s way back onto your soaked heat, taking his time to work his tongue up the length of it, his saliva mixing itself in a nasty cocktail with your wetness. he imagines the air is cold against your skin, and that you like it, memory of those hardened nipples hidden beneath the fabric of your dress. “but if ya insist.”

diving in head first had always been his style, from his first lover to his last, and to now, knees aching on the kitchen floor. the tip of his tongue dances round your clit, tantalising you to grind your hips to the rhythm of his sinful touches.

licking into you, he’s reminded how much he enjoys that swelling in the chest that only comes from bringing another pleasure. 

he’d not been a perfect lover, far from it, but he’d liked to believe at one point he’d been trained by only experience that comes with age, years of touching wrong and kissing badly to learn the right ways to make those he shared a bed- or a counter, or a backseat, or a club bathroom- with see angelic white as they writhed and squirmed under his touch. you’re lucky to have him now, matured by past lovers and broadened by age, with all the knowledge he needs to open your eyes to how a man pleasures, kisses, loves.

he’s out of practice, sure, with recent years adding notches to his belt that were merely frantic, unexpected, barely undressed run-ins with strangers, in strange places, cock barely getting a moments affection before he’d be spilling his seed and tucking it, limp, back into the confines of his trousers and locking it away beneath a zip.

what a perfect excuse you are, for joel to remaster the arts of lust.

it’s messy, wet dripping down his chin and staining itself into the stubble of his growing facial hair. it’s noisy, his mouth openly groaning depraved joy into your warmth as you sing him a song of sweet euphoria, slowly building towards that crescendo on the horizon. it’s animalistic, barely human as he revokes all earthly needs such as rest, and food, and socialising, his mind, and soul, and heart, and cock all screaming in unison to spend whatever days he shall possess on his knees before you.

and all the while you writhe and wriggle, some times running away from him touch, other times rutting so far back into him that you threaten to suffocate him somewhere between your warm thighs, and sugar sweet cunt, and the two well-rounded globes of your ass. 

his only saving grace is that he can’t see you.

hearing your pretty whines, and hand-muffled moans, and heavy intakes of breath is enough to curse him for the rest of his waking days, condemned to wander the wastelands of earth knowing the noises you make on the brinks of pleasure, with a touch-starved man satiating his hunger for flesh and blood with the sugary sins of your soaked cunt.

burrowing deeper into you, his consciousness rips through the fog of his lust to curse out his perversions as the tip of his hooked nose bumps against the puckered entrance of your ass. it does nothing to stop him tearing his tongue away from your clit, flattened as he drags it over the expanse of your cunt, and over your taint, and up the crack of your behind.

“n- ah,” you can’t deny him while sounding so eager for more, the tip of his tongue now circling your back entrance, mimicking the treatment previously given to your little pearl. “no, don’t, not there.”

next time, he thinks, we’ll try that next time.

sights returned to his previous desires, he works to rip every sigh, and every whine, and every dirty little song you’ll grace him with. the sound of whatever record tess has put on in the other room becomes a safety blanket, dousing you both in the warm protection of not being overheard.

and, then, he does it, he makes the ultimate mistake.

his eyes flicker to the left and he finds himself faced with the stove that sits within bill and frank’s- and, by an extension he does not enjoy to remember, your- kitchen. there’s little that’s remarkable about the appliance, just your standard, everyday oven that he’s sure you’ve spent countless hours cooking up those comforting meals he’s come to anticipate each time tess tells him they’re due a visit.

except, the oven door is made of glass.

glass which now paints the most pornographic masterpiece for no eyes but his own. you, with hands gripping the island’s counter like your life depends on it, and the skirt of that goddamn dress he’s envied all evening for the way it got to rest against the warmth of your thighs now bunched up in your tight grip, and your head thrown back, curving your spine in a way that has him wondering about the other ways he’d be able to bend and break you beneath his touch.

 and then there’s him, down on his knees like a devotee laying himself down to worship his goddess, face burrowed in the space between your legs, mouth devouring you from behind with the help of his hands, the same ones that had strangled a man less than a day before and reigned fire down on countless others for years, that now grip the meat of your thighs to pull you back onto him, fucking his tongue into your sopping heat.

the image will haunt him more than the face of any man he’s killed.

“d’ya touch yourself, sol?” you don’t answer him, but that’s okay. in a sweet change of pace, joel miller’s perfectly fine with talking enough for the both of you. “yeah, bet ya do. late at night, right? once you’re all alone in bed. ya seem like the kind who can make herself scream.”

you back into him, smothering him under the weigh of your body. becoming his holy grail, he drinks from you like it’s the key to eternal life, and what a way of living this would be, time disregarded as nothing but meaningless while your bodies melt together in the heat of passion.

fucking his fingers back inside, he becomes frantic beneath the need to make you cry, fall completely apart with only his hands to hold you together. “let me do the honours this time though.”

you don’t scream, can’t scream, hand over mouth muffling whatever profanities and theatrical proclamations he rips from within you with the stroke of his agile tongue, the only muscle of his that’s yet to develop aches and pains. he imagines that will no longer ring true once he awakens past sunrise.

he’s unsure how much longer he works his tongue over you, slipping and sliding through the liquid pleasure, but it ends with fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him away and tilting his head up.

you’ve never looked more holy, moon casting it’s shine around you, eyes glossed with unshed tears, lips parted and swollen from the pressure your own teeth had bitten down on them with. your expression, he can’t quite read. not sad, not happy, not mad.

your eyes catch on something, abandoning his own for something closer to the floor, to which he follows and finds exactly what you’re staring at: the evidently dark patch that now stains the front of his jeans.

the discomfort of trekking back to the qz will now be tenfolds worse in the stains of his own pleasure.

“joel...” his name is nearly a beg, a prayer, an invitation. hand still in his hair, you tug, pulling him upwards off the ground. legs open wider and back arches deeper, a seductive sight that your body pleas for him with.

he swallows a groan, knees alleviated at last from the floor, and presses himself against you once more. strong arms crush you in an embrace, pulling you back into him as his head slips to rest against your shoulder. he’s capricious with the way he lets himself litter a few wet kisses over your neck, breathing in the smell of you.

“that,” you grind back into him, a torturer who takes his aged body as her victim and toys with his barely recovered cock, the cum in his trousers sticking uncomfortably to his skin. he pulls tighter on your body, grounding himself in the weight of it against his own to find the sanity to finish his sentence. “shouldn’t have happened.”

joel hopes no one awakens as he slams the door on the way out of the kitchen.

people once spoke of how the only certainties in life were death and taxes but, nowadays, the words don’t ring as true and the guarantee of life with taxes has morphed into something else entirely; a reality where death and time go hand in hand. as sure as tomorrow will arrive, death will come too, eventually. not today, however, and joel miller finds himself stood throwing a ball back and forth for a dog.

it chases and retrieves, trailing it’s happy self all the way back to him only to spit the ball down at his feet, siting and waiting to repeat the process once more. there’d been a time where this is all he’d wanted: white picket fence, dog in the yard, home-cooked meals filling a house with warmth.

that dream seems so far away now, even as he stands within it.

he cracks his back, huffing out a groan. “no, not again. my back’s fucked as it is, buddy,” with no one around to witness, joel lets himself crouch down onto his knees- both popping obnoxiously as he does so- and rakes his hand over the german shepherd’s head. it whines and makes an attempt to nudge the ball against him, protesting in the only way it can. a scratch to the ear does the trick to distract the animal, to which it tilts its head and forces itself deeper into his blunt nails. “not so bad, are ya? huh?” never in a million years did joel think he’d be talking to a dog when him and tess had set out for their routinely visit to the bill and frank’s. never would he have thought that would be the least shocking event to unfold on this trip.

he hears you before he sees you.

“you planning to make your knees familiar with every surface of this place, texas?”

he tries to rise, he truly does, but the four-legged foe he’d been petting mere seconds ago betrays him the instant it catches sight of you, charging past him and knocking him over in the process, ass to floor and head to sky.

the world above is a storm of greys, clouds swallowing one another with a looming threat of danger on the horizon and not a lick of the sun’s warmth seems to make its way through.

so instead, it sends you.

peering over him from above, hair a tangled mess, eyes a wreck of under-bags and sleepless tears, the collar of your jumper lowered just enough at this angle that he can see a tease of cleavage, you radiate a brightness like no other, more dangerous to his naked eyes than uv ray could ever be. he’s squinting again, frown etching itself on his forehead with the threat of becoming permanent soon. a few more years and his face will be nothing but frown lines and crows feet. at the very least, he considers, i’ve survived long enough to wrinkle.

the smile above him is worth a million laugh lines, a kindness laced within it that matches perfectly with the hand you hold out. when he does nothing but stare at it, you wriggle your fingers, enticing him to take a hold. he does most of the work, truthfully, but you play a part in pulling him back to his feet. upright once more, he can’t help but bask in the way he’s able to physically look down on you.

“thanks for tiring him out,” you’re the first to talk. you’re always the first to talk, and he curses you for it. “won’t need to walk him as far tonight.”

a queasy feeling overtakes him at the thought of you walking the dog alone at night, nothing but the moon to light your way. he’ll need to remember to tire the dog out next time he visits. “no problem, thanks... for feeding tess and i.”

“no worries!” you’re so kind, so good, smiling at him with a cheerful chirp in your voice. he can’t wrap his head around how you can bring yourself to treat him this way. “oh, actually, that’s why i came out here, i was looking for tess-” of course you were, when would you ever be looking for him? “hold on!”

you shoot off back inside so quickly that otis just reaches the doorway by the time you return. with an idle pet to his head as you pass by, joel once again sees, in the way such little affection can have the dog so elated, that resemblance between them you’d spoke of. in your hands, you carry an array of containers full of food- soup- each filled to the brim.

“i wanted to give you these, before you guys leave,” you’re explaining yourself, and joel wonders if it’s nerves that bring you to need constant babbling to fill any gaps of silence. he can’t imagine how he could make you nervous and therefore that thought is quick to be discarded. “i know the journey up here and back can be long, consider them a token of my appreciation towards you both for-”

“why don’t ya like me?” he cuts you off.

pathetic, he knows, but he can not stop himself, a deer caught in the headlights of your brightly burning, too-good-to-be-true, too-pure-to-be-fake personality.

you show no signs of hearing him, smile unwavering as you continue to hold out the boxes to him, “there should be enough to last you a few days, if you watch your proportions.”

it’s too much for him to handle- the food, the smiles, the sweetly glistening eyes-, and joel just has to know, needs an answer before the heat of his confusion consumes him entirely in its flames and leaves nothing but his smoking remains.

so he tries again, louder.

“why don’t ya like me?”

“and i’d probably say you’re best to heat it up, especially for tess,” you ignore him, again, lips stretching what can only be described as uncomfortably wider. “winter is sure coming in faster than last year, isn’t it?”

he grabs at your arm, fingers curling round the swell of your bicep as he speaks through gritted teeth, "answer me." like a frightened dog backed into a corner, he bares his teeth and yells his bark.

"for someone who doesn't care,” you try his patience, knowingly or not, and his grip tightens. you don’t flinch, welcoming the sting of his blunt and bitten nails against your flesh. “you sure do talk about my opinion a lot."

"answer the damn question, girl.”

“or, what?” you’ve got him there, he’ll admit, holding no real plan as to how to punish your silence. “you gonna give me the same treatment as last night?”

had he known you’d be so unabashed to mention the events on the kitchen floor so flippantly, as casually as one would speak about the weather, he’d never have dared to get on his knees. truthfully, he’d not given things a second thought, disregarding the later for the now, living in the moment with caution thrown to the wind over what the morning would bring. perhaps he’d hoped you’d been intoxicated enough to dismiss the memory as a nightmare, maybe he’d wished you’d keep away from him to free him of the volatile grip you have on his soul.

instead, you stand tall, proud, eyes fiercely staring back at his own as you challenge him to retaliate, mock you with none of those saccharine smiles you hide harsh tones behind.

joel says nothing.

“how about this, let’s make a deal, like the ones you and bill make.” inching closer, crowding in on his space and forcing him to take note of the smell of freshly cleaned clothes mixed in with your own fragrance. clean, warm, inviting, scents he’d never given meaning to before now. “you get me something, i’ll tell you what you want to know.”

he grunts out a response, hands meeting his hips as he juts out one knee, the shifting of weight between feet a perfect distraction to the rising tension in his worn-out jeans. “what d’ya want? ‘cause if it’s somethin’ like a gun, think again. i ain’t messing with none of bill’s strange politics on you havin’-”

“a dress.”

“a dress?” the statement has him quirking his brow, burning questions swimming in the depths of his eyes as he stares back at you.

“yes, and don’t look at me like that!” it’s hypocritical, he believes, for you to berate him for the looks he sends you when all you do is cast stones his way with your gaze yet shake him to his very core each time you smile. “i need a new one, my favourite one got ruined whilst making soup.”

unaware he’d even began to lean closer, joel’s quick to recoil, as if your words are bullets and his skin the target you hit on the bullseye every time. 

“joel!” his name resonates from somewhere in the house.

neither of you dare to break eye contact. again, his name is yelled. this time, he manages to identify tess as the owner of the voice. habits have him used to running to her whenever she calls, but habits have never been caught between the choice of tess or you. 

his feet remain glued to the ground.

tess yells once more and, though you speak up, you don’t dare look away. “think you might be needed inside, macho man. your missus is calling.”

“she ain’t my-”

“you two just gonna stand and stare at each other all day, or will you help a woman out already?” tess enters the scene somewhere behind you, a blur of her familiar shape standing out the front door.

only when your head spins and he no longer finds himself lost in the black of your eyes does joel take her in completely, hair clearly damp and complexion a little paled by her hungover body. in her arms, she struggles with the weight of a folded table. you approach first, he follows, his two hands aiding in carrying it out into the front yard as you retighten your grip on the boxes of soup in your arms. 

“i should probably,” laying the containers down on the now unfolded table, you fidget with the sleeves in your hands, eyes downcast with something he can only read as guilt. he decides he much prefers the fire they hold when you berate him. “go check on the food, before it burns.”

you’re in the door and out his sight before he can so much as ask you to stay.

tess and him hit the road by noon. earlier than predicted, later than he’d wished for. the bite of cold already marks the air, despite the sun heating the world with its rays. he walks a little ahead, feigning ignorance to the repeated coughing coming from tess and racking his brain for answers.

answers to why he’d never noticed how hoarse she’d been sounding till you pointed it out. answers to what awaited them both upon returning to the qz. answers to when will be their next chance to visit the safe haven bill’s created. answers to why you don’t like him.

i don’t like you, joel.

it motivates him to walk quicker, faster, racing to put as much distance between himself and that damn kitchen floor, miles upon miles not enough to rid him of the dull ache in his knees that goes hand in hand with the throb within his too-tight-jeans. if he were alone, he’d break out in a sprint. but tess is here, he’s not alone, and home will simply have to wait on the passing of time to drag him back to it.

till then, he needs to find a dress.​

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller oneshot #joel miller fic #pedro pascal smut

[mera-k1]

I noticed you also opened paralive and there seems to be nothing there! If possible could I rq fav positions with yohei, hajun, allen, shion, shogo and toma? Take ur pick from those !

hope it's okay if i added iori as well<3 enjoy!!

Fav Positions

Various Paralive x gn!reader

-smut, minors dni

to me, allen seems very basic when it comes to sex positions. i think he'd like something simple like missionary. simple and intimate but he isn't opposed to trying other positions! missionary is just simple his go-to position when he's unsure.

hajun likes a position where he's in total control over you, making you beg for almost anything. i'd say mating press suits him well. being able to bend you in half and render you stuck under him like that awakens something a little sadistic inside of him.

hmm.. yohei doesn't really have a favorite. he's more focused on your pleasure rather than picking a favorite position. your favorite is his favorite unless it's really not his thing which is rare for him to mention about a sex position.

iori is simple. he likes any position where he is able to see your face. it doesn't matter what the position entails but he does prefer to be the dominant one. whether you sit on his face or just prefer to do missionary, he doesn't mind because he can see your face as you get lost in the pleasure he's giving you.

shogo likes cowgirl. or just being ridden in general. it doesn't particularly matter how you ride him but, he enjoys being able to see your pretty face as you bounce up and down on his cock. even if he is a bit more submissive, he does try to 'take control' by having his hands on your hips to 'help you ride him but they're just there to hold onto you as he gets lost in the pleasure...

similar to shogo, he prefers to be ridden and is more submissive. toma likes cowgirl and enjoys watching you through his teary eyes as you ride him, bouncing up and down. his hands start on your hips and slowly slide down because the pleasure washing over him is too much for him to handle.

shion.. this man enjoys a lot of positions but i'd say he really likes giving you oral. whether that be in the form of 69, him between your legs, or you sitting on his face he enjoys it all. he's incredibly good at it as well so you won't be unsatisfied.

#♡ fics ♡ #paradox live smut #paralive x reader #paradox live x reader #allen sugasano x reader #allen smut #hajun yeon x reader #hajun smut #yohei kanbayashi x reader #yohei smut #iori suiseki x reader #iori smut #shogo yamato x reader #shogo smut #toma hikage x reader #toma smut #shion kaida x reader #shion smut

[dollwrites]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 — 𝐤𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚 𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!suiseki!reader, noise control, finger sucking, king of tsundere himself, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ i didn’t plan on writing this, but i can’t get the idea of kanata shoving his fingers in my mouth out of my head. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

“You’re being too loud again.” Kanata was panting out a ragged whisper in your ear, but you could hardly hear it over your own, loud whimpering and the table thump-thumping to the rhythm of his greedy thrusting. he may have been a self-centered lover, a learned selfishness from years of neglect or, perhaps, because he had to steal everything else he’d ever had. but, you’d be damned if you didn’t love the way he stole you, too. “You trying to get me killed?”

there’s a tinge of amusement lacing the sarcasm dripping from his husky voice, but the threat was a very possible outcome if anyone found out that he claimed you like this. quick, needy, disrespectful fucking. against the wall, in a closet, or — like this time — on a table. whenever and wherever Kanata could get his hands on you, usually on the way out after meeting with Iori and picking up his pay. “Shh…”

“K, K! H—harder, oh god, harder!” he was already pounding hard, the legs of the table you’re boosted on to grinding into the floor, leaving skid marks, and he was hilt deep already. his sweatpants shoved down around his thighs, his balls were heavy with need for you, and made a deliciously wet slap due to the way you squelch when he pushes deep. Kanata made you so wet that you couldn’t help but erupt like a geyser when he hit your sweet spots, and thankfully he didn’t mind the mess you always left on him. you knew it’d be the same today, he’d pull the frayed hems of his hoodie down to cover the wide, damp stain that smelled like you on his crotch. his clothes weren’t the only ones that suffered, though. your panties, pulled to one side for the quickest access to your cunt he could get, were soaked, too.

“Shut up,” he grunted, thin brows furrowing close together and teeth grinding when you grasp a handful of lavender locks, skewing his lazy side pony further, and jerking hard. expelling a heavy breath into your neck before pulling back, his head tilted upwards to accommodate your vice, lips parted, amethyst gems sparkling and pupils blown out with lust as he watches you squirm and cry out for him, against his demands to quieten down. “They’ll hear you.”

you couldn’t keep quiet, anyways. you couldn’t stifle your pleasured whines or the way you wanted to scream his name until your voice went hoarse. with your trembling knees dug into his ribs, your manicured nails biting at his shoulder and his scalp, your voice was your last line of defense against the haphazard way he fucked you. you didn’t care about the other boys in the building, the ones that you called your family, the ones that could — at any moment — hear you scream for Kanata and come running to ruin this beautiful, depraved moment with him.

all you cared about in this moment was Kanata, and how fucking good his cock felt inside you.

“Gonna cum!” you yip, your eyes threatening to roll back, toes curling. your knees tighten against his ribs, trying to lock him in place so you could ride out your high, “G—gonna c—!”

Kanata cut your mewling short, his middle and ring finger pushing into your mouth, muffling the sounds. they reach to the back of your throat in an instance, teasing your gag reflex as the rough, calloused pads press down hard on your tongue. your first instinct is to gurgle, eyes widening and flitting to look up at him. he was so close to you, his breath tickling the apples of your cheeks as his thumb anchors itself under your jaw, keeping you from pushing his fingers out as he fucked you into bliss. “Spoiled brat,” he spat, but there was a subtle yet undeniable fondness in his degradation. “I said shut up… You’re just gonna make me shut you up myself?” he moves them in your mouth, back and forth, to the reckless rhythm in which his hips snap to yours, and your eyes start to water as his digit tips prod at the opening of your throat each time, but this new way to keep you quiet had your pussy clenching, clamping down in his cock until he was breathless and struggling to keep his composure. “That’s— it… come on, princess,” the nickname sounded more like an insult coming from him, but it only made you wetter, “just keep… milking me… fuck, suck my fingers, baby.”

you obey, but only to keep as quiet as you could, sealing your glossy pink tiers around his fingers, you tasted the salt in his skin, your moaning turning to muffled vibrations as you struggle to keep your eyes open and on him.

but, you knew he was close and you wanted to see him cum.

his lip twitched, as if he were about to bare his teeth, his eyes glazing and falling out of focus as he becomes solely zeroed in on reaching his peak. his free hand grips tight on your hip, pulling you in to his movements, as the last few, erratic thrusts send you into your own tizzy. Kanata lets out a raspy moan, pushing you back and separating your bodies just in time for him to cum. wrenching his hands away, he uses them to pry your knees off of him, holding them far apart so he can pull out. as soon as he does, with a strangled cry from you, he releases, painting your panties and netherlips, the glaze dripping on to the table under you.

your chest was heaving for a moment, and you stare down at the mess he’s made of you, too, until you notice he’s staring at your face. it was only then that you felt the thin strings of saliva that he’d pulled from your mouth as they dribble on to your chin and leave little, damp patches on your top. you look up at him and smile. it was a half-dick drunk, silly grin, but it was enough to at least soften his gaze with a hint of adoration. “How the hell do I keep ending up here?” he asked in a low voice, pulling away to tuck himself back into his pants.

you sit up, and lean forward to catch him in a tight back hug, nuzzling your face in his shoulders. “Maybe you like me?” you ask, before adding, “I like you.”

Kanata’s silent, but he also doesn’t push you off for several moments, as if he’s deep in thought about something, before he scoffs and mutters, “I just fucked your brains out. You don’t even know what your own name is, much less what you like. You’ll think better of it later.” with that, now he does shrug you off, but he keeps his face partially hidden, trying to conceal the faint pink blush to his cheeks. “I gotta go. You know to clean up before you come out, right?” his eyeline falls to your ruined panties and the puddle of his spunk on the table. Iori would lose his mind if it left a stain, and the last thing Kanata needed was Zen on his ass. you make a face, scrunching your nose at his curt nature, even after doing something so intimate, but nod, and he heads out. you can swear, however, that you hear him murmur under his breath. “See you again… princess.”

#kanata yatonokami x reader #kanata x reader #kanata smut #kanata x you #kanata #kanata yatonokami #kanata yatonokami x you #kanata yatonokami smut #paradox live x you #paradox live smut #paralive smut #paralive x reader #paradox live x reader #paradox live #paralive

[seizingthesky]

b k l n r for shion pwease ♡ thank you and i love ur writing ^__^

Shion…… Grrrrrrr bark bark bark snarl grrrrr bark snarl grrrrr bark bark snarl grrrrrr wtf my dog started barking when I typed this sorry my bad I won’t do it again. Anyways. Hi please enjoy I love Shion. AND THANK YOU!!!!!! :D

SUGGESTIVE UNDER THE CUT.

B ─ Breeding. Is this one of their kinks? Do they often have unprotected sex? Have they ever had any pregnancy scares?

Initially? Absolutely not. SHION never wanted any strings attached with most people he hooked up with, although the idea did tempt him many times before. He's a changed man after settling down with you, but the idea of being a father so young in his life scares him a little. However, don't get it twisted; the idea of cumming inside of you drives him crazy, almost as if it's a way of claiming you.

K ─ Kissing. How important are kisses in their relationship?  Any favourite kind of kisses?  Do they have any rituals involving kissing (never leaving for work without kissing the other, always sharing a kiss goodnight, etc)?

Shion would take any opportunity in the world to kiss you. On the lips, neck, cheek, forehead, and other areas of your body... he can't keep his hands or lips off of you. He's gotten into the habit of pressing slow, lazy kisses to your neck to tease you in the morning when your bodies are entwined.

L ─ Lingerie. Do they enjoy wearing it and/or seeing their partner in lingerie?  What kind of lingerie do they find the sexiest? Any other clothing they love seeing their partner in  (like grey sweater pants, wearing nothing but an apron, really short shorts, etc)?  Do they often wear what the other likes, just to please them?

Whether it's you or him wearing the lingerie, Shion will enjoy it thoroughly. Truth be told, you could wear a paper bag, and he'd still find you sexy, but when you make an effort to pick out a cute set just for him, he feels himself fall even deeper in love with you if such a thing is possible. Shion isn't picky when it comes to what you wear for him, but seeing you in red or black really gets him going.

N ─ Nudes. Do they send them to each other?  Do they save them on their phones?  Do they keep them to themselves, or do they show them to their friends?  Have they ever sent one to a wrong number?

Shion is a big fan of sending you nudes randomly throughout the day, just to tease you and keep you on your toes. And they aren't the typical 'dick in hand staring dully at the camera' man nudes, either; he aims to impress you with every photo he sends. They're almost a work of art, in a way. He doesn't really expect nudes in return, but if you send him something, you'll have him all over you when you see each other again. After all, when he has the real thing in his grasp, why would he let that go to waste?

R ─ Recording. Have they ever filmed themselves having sex?  Did they watch it together afterwards?  Has anyone else seen their videos?

While I don't think Shion would be against it, recording videos is not a priority. He wouldn't mind if you wanted to, but he'd much rather live in the moment with you because, lord knows, it happens quite often between the two of you. As for anyone else seeing the video, absolutely not. Shion became an oddly possessive lover after meeting you, so the idea of anyone else seeing you so ravishing like that makes his skin crawl.

#sexy abc #shion kaida #kaida shion #paradox live #paralive #paralive imagine #paralive x reader #paradox live x reader #paradox live imagine #shion kaida x reader #kaida shion x reader #pararai x reader #paradox live smut

[hipsterteller]

Poison

Summary-Aeryn has been avoiding Naoakira after what Miss Akane Minagawa said to her at music room and how it hurted how, so her friend, Letitia and BAE decided to the Inn but upon there...fate decided to make her heart twisted even further.

Tagged-Age gap/age difference, Naoakia patient is tested, Minagawa is dead whore, sets in episode 9, heated sex.

*Got this idea from listening to Poison by Blake Roman (Angel Dust) as well watching one of Scum's wish

Special guest-Letitia from @moonartemisia

Letitia invited Aeryn to join her and BAE on outgoing trip, a inn. Aeryn wanted to refuse it but decided to go anyway since she needs to get away from the city...and Naoakira.

You see, about a few weeks ago. Miss Akane Minagawa, professor of music decided to hurt Aeryn's emotions by getting Naoakira and even...seeing her attempt to kiss him.

This made her cry and call Letitia and Anne after hearing what happened...it anger Allen as he wanted to yell at her but Hajun pull him back as it will only cause more trouble.

So the only option is a trip to the inn while the BAE team will train for there finals. But for now, the young auburn hair sat alone in lounge as she needed this, alone in environment.

Allen is probably goofing off while Letitia and Hajun are doing some couple stuff...and Anne is probably busy with something...

She close her blue eyes as the memory from what happen still fresh in her head...

*Flashback at college music room*

Aeryn stood at the entrance of the music room when Miss Akane requested her to be there...but upon standing in the entrance...there..leaning against the window...is Naoakira...and Akanae.

The curtains blew covering them as it showed the silhouette of them...together...

Kissing.

It trigger both pain and bitter in her as she ran out holding back her tears as well her agony cry.

*End of flashback*

Aeryn open her eyes as she felt something in her cheek, it was cold drink and its been held by Anne.

"You look like you needed one..." She put the drink in Aeryn's hand as she sat down next to her as she pulled chair for her to seat.

Aeryn sit up straight as she held her drink "Thanks Anne...but you didn't have too..."

Anne shake her head and respond "You needed one, I mean after running all the way to apartment crying. I still can't believe from what I heard at your explanations...you know professor Saimon will never do that. Especially after the hickey incident he gave you."

Aeryn blush at that as Anne chuckle but still continue.

"But if your still sad about it, then its okay...but Aeryn...you can't ignore him forever you know..."

Aeryn frowned as she recalls that after that incident, she's been avoiding him a lot and somehow she could imagine his anger and impatient look in his eyes.

"I know...but...its best if I don't interact with him..."

Anne frowned more and sighed "Alright, welp I better check on Hajun and his girl. For now try and relax okay?"

Aeryn nodded and she is now yet again alone but at least she has a drink in her hand...

But what she doesn't know...

Is that fate has a way to tug her little heart.

At night.

Aeryn forgot that the Akanyatsura and Cozmez are here, she forgot due to her depression lately.

After having a nice dip in hot spring, Aeryn wanted nothing but to go to bed...until she heard Anne and Hajun are playing ping pong while Hetitia cheered on.

'Huh is Allen playing? I thought his still at hot spring...' Aeryn slowly approach the game room, but as soon she stood at the entrance...

Her heart is yet again twisted at the sight of someone she's trying to avoid...

The one person that made her heart goes fast...

The one person she love...that broke her heart into a million pieces.

Naoakira...is here...at the inn and playing ping pong table with Hajun and Anne and his partner up with Iori. Letitia saw this and knew shit hit the fans.

"A-Aeryn wait!"

Aeryn didn't respond as her mind began to recall the day she witness her heart shattered as if a static noise began to flicker her as she mentally recalls those painful moment and Miss Minagawa smile.

She broke a run for it, Aeryn didn't care on who she bump into the inn.

She needs to find a place to hide...somewhere he won't find her...somewhere she can cry again.

But before she did, she felt a strong grip grab her wrist as she yelp and is drag to secluded hallway were there she is pinned against the wall.

Her blue eyes met with golden eyes that she is very familiar...

Naoakira got her and now pinned against the wall.

"I've finally caught you..." his tone sounded that his patient has finally at its breaking point as Aeryn lips quiver afraid to speak but asked him.

"Why are you here?"

"I was gonna asked the same thing, but the real question is..."

He lean into her ear as his hot breathe made her shiver as he whispers.

"Why were you avoiding me lately little mouse?"

Aeryn close her eyes and looked away as she didn't deserve that nickname "Don't call me...little mouse..."

Naoakira is shocked but listen to her woes.

"I don't deserve to call little mouse I...I don't deserve to be with you..."

"Why? Was it because Miss Minagawa?"

Aeryn didn't respond as Naoakira let out a tsked, this made her flinch as she doesn't know if that tongue clicked was for her or for Miss Minagawa.

Before she could do anything, she felt his hands cupped both her cheek as she is force to look at him as she felt scared on what his about to say...

But she was not prepare on the revelations.

"You do realize that I don't have feelings for that woman...after all...you should have seen her when I slap her after that kiss attempt she did."

Aeryn is shocked as he wipes her tears.

"Letitia told me what happen, you should thanked your friend...for now...I have to take care of you..."

*Flashback, this afternoon*

While booking in the inn, Hajun and Letitia and Anne spotted the Cat's Whiskers and upon doing so, Letitia decided to approach the linguistic professor.

"Professor, can we talk? Its important." Letitia pleaded him as Naoakira knows Letitia well as she is good friends with Aeryn.

"If its about Aeryn's odd behavior...then please do..."

They head to a near by indoor lounge were there Letitia filled in the details and explainations.

"When she saw you and Miss Minagawa, she got her heartbroken and thought you left her for someone else and we tried to tell her that you don't do that.

Naoakira bit his inner bottom lip as it confirm his theory, that bitch made his little mouse cry...

And his not going to let this slide...not by a long shot.

*End of flashback*

"Oh my little mouse...I should have known that woman would hurt your feelings..."

Aeryn began to hiccup but slowly cry on his chest as she begs him for forgiveness, Naoakira hush her as he kiss her temples.

"I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry!"

"Sshh...its okay my little mouse, I forgive you...and I love you..."

He kiss her cheek and nose til he kiss her lips, God he needed and misses that taste of her lips. The two stayed like that til his hand roam at her kimono as he wants to pull down.

But Aeryn pulled away as she doesn't want to get caught, Naoakira took a breather and smirk.

"Let's go to my room little mouse..."

((Listen to this-

And just like that she nodded as he softly held her hand and took her to his room, upon entering he lock the door and the two began to have a heated intimacy.

Aeryn moan at his kiss as well his holding her til she is pinned down at futon as her kimono is loosen revealing her freckle body, her legs is spread open as it shows that she didn't wore anything underneath.

Naoakira goes on top of her, stripping her kimono down as Aeryn held onto the futon as he began to bite her, kisses her and lick the fresh hickeys and skin of her as she let out a moan and pant as his going hard on her and she enjoys this.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, his cologne drove her to the edge as she too began to leave hickeys and licks it. This made Naoakira moan and growled.

"Aaah...that's it little mouse, mark me...make that bitch know that I'm yours...and your mine."

Aeryn moan as she felt her leg lifted as he began to bite her sensitive parts as she moans loudly and felt her sweat began to form as not only he bit her thigh but began to eat her pussy as she moans.

She held his head as he began to make her cum as he did, Naoakira put his glasses down and lift her from futon as his hand held her.

Then began to thrust her pushing his cock inside of her making her scream and moan, then began to thrust her fast and hard.

the friction...the pleasure becomes unbearable but it felt so good for her as she held him as her legs wrapped around his waist as their kimono is took off from the floor.

It didn't took long as Aeryn claw his back as she cums and he too biting her shoulder as he cums. Naoakira lay down on futon as he let her rest on top of her as Aeryn held him.

The experience was enough for them to fall asleep in their arms as Naoakira held her and kiss her temples.

"I love you my little mouse..."

The next day, about week (after episode 11 and 12), college cafeteria

"Guys have you heard? Miss Minagawa is move to to an all girls university!"

Aeryn is shock at Letitia news as Hajun asked her.

"How did this happen?"

"Don't know but someone said its because her behavior had cause a lot of girls in here to be furious..."

Aeryn began to wonder as she tug her oversize turtleneck sweater that's covering the hickeys she got from her lover.

#paradox live #paradox live the animation #paradox live fanfiction #paradox live x oc #naoakira saimon #saimon naoakira #naoakira saimon x oc #hipsterfic #Youtube #paralive #pararai #paradox live smut

[moonartemisia]

✧.* the sugar to his spice ✧.*

#anime / manga #art #artist on tumblr #ocs #moonartemisia 𓆩⚝𓆪 #paradox live oc #paradox live the animation #paradox live #paradox live hajun yeon #yeon hajun #pararai yeon hajun #pararai oc #pararai #paralive #paralive oc #paradox #live #hajun yeon smut #hajun yeon #hajun yeon × oc #self ship #hajun yeon × reader #hajun yeon × you

[animehideout]

SOMNOPHILLA WITH SUKUNA PLEASE

SOMNOPHILIA WITH RYOMEN SUKUNA

Ryomen Sukuna x jujutsu sorcerer¡ Reader

TW ⚠️🔞: NSFW / MDNI / SMUT / SOMNOPHILIA/ SENSITIVE AND MATURE CONTENT. Minors and those who dont like this stuff PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.

a/n: Thank you anon for requesting. This is my first time writing Somno related content so I hope you like it 🫰🏻

You lied there deep in your beautiful slumber. Leaning against your door frame, he watched in silence. His red eyes glowing in the darkness. It became a habit of Sukuna to secretly get into your room every single night to watch you sleep; very sound and peaceful.

But tonight he wanted more, he wanted to touch you.

Despite him being your boyfriend, your guilty pleasure, he couldn't get enough of you. The paradoxical nature of your relationship added to the thrill, and it excited him. To defy all the rules to break all the standards; a jujutsu sorcerer and the king of curses.

He hovered above your sleeping figure, his orbs closely memorizing each part of your face, getting them engraved in his mind.

Your light snores and soft hums made his cock harden.

He started with little touches; his big palms and long fingers gently roaming your exposed thighs, the curves of you waist and your chest, earning a moan from you that aroused him even more, giving him sinful ideas on how to fuck you in your sleep.

With a big smirk, he removed your shorts, along with your underwear, feeling your wetness.

“ Wet for me already...what a little whore”

“I didn't do anything yet..but I'll give it to you... I'll be your living dream”

Without a warning, he slipped two fingers inside you, making you jolt in your sleep. He checked to see that your eye lids remained closed, but your face scrunching up. His smirk grew wider, seeing how innocent and helpless you were under his control.

“weak human” he chuckled his bulge getting more obvious.

His fingers curled inside you as his long nails digged deep.

“So fucking warm”

The overwhelming pleasure got you tossing, closing your legs still deep in your sleep but his large hand forced them open again, more exposed for his eyes to enjoy the body he worships. He added another finger making sure to fuck you into your orgasm, his fingers worked faster; if you were awake your eyes would be rolling back reaching your brain. Your hands tugged on your bed sheets, as your moans became more audible, till you came.

His fingers now soaked in your fluids meeting the cold air, shoving them in his mouth. His long tongue licked them off, tasting your juices. His erection started hurting just from your taste, making it impossible for him to hold back anymore.

His eyes witnessed how your body and face relaxed after cumming in his hand.

“Nah, not yet, not yet..”

He stripped himself, lining his cock with your entrance..your pussy all wet and warm for him to disappear inside it. He started rocking slowly inside you. Your body tensed up, face twitching.

“Shh relax let me stretch you wide”

Your eyes remained closed, your heavy breathing and trembling whimpers filled the space. Your mind completely blank but fuzzy. If this was a dream you wouldn't want to wake up from it. Your walls tightned around him, he got a strong grip of your hips as he started thrusting faster.. eager to reach that beautiful feeling.

His lips leaving wet kissed on your neck, biting and licking.

You arched your back.. forehead and chest dripping with sweat.

“Hot , so fucking hot” he whispered next to your ear.

He groaned, releasing inside of you, your legs trembled from the strong orgasm. He pulled out, a silly laugh left his lips, proud of filling you up.

Your breathing got back to normal, your body relaxed again.. eyes still closed wandering in dreamland.

He kissed your nose tip, pulling the blanket on top of your body as you slept peacefully.

He ruined you, just to have you.

In the morning you found yourself naked, you knew that it wasn't just a dream but it was real raw pleasure. You smiled to yourself, Sukuna never failed in making you feel desired.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen masterlist #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna headcanons #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk sukuna smut #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #gojo smut #gojo headcanons #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna x yn #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x oc #gojo satoru smut #jjk smut #sukuna imagine #gojo satoru headcanons #toji headcanons #gojo x reader #toji smut #anime headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader

[saiidahyunie]

paradoxical

im nayeon x 10th member!reader ; smut

synopsis: it’s hard to get a read on nayeon, especially when she’s all over you. 

wc: 4.1k

warnings: smut!!! ; somnophilia ; praising ; crying ; choking ; edging ; whipped reader ; nayeon is a brat ; just filth hehe ^_^ ; cursing ; might not be proofread

a/n: starting off the new year with a bang! this anon request was too good to pass up on and i hope you all enjoy some top nayeon content!!!!!

—

nayeon was really someone who was made to be in the limelight. 

she was easily suited for this ever changing, fast-paced stardom of being a part of one of the most influential groups that constantly raise the bar in music charts, award show ratings, and overall popularity. 

nayeon was known for many things; her magnificent vocal power, flawless dancing, striking visuals, and the personality with other celebs that really gave her the title of “nation’s bestie” and you were glad that you had someone like her a part of the group in the first place. 

but behind closed doors and away from the cameras, she was anything but that. 

in the years that you’ve grown to know nayeon since debuting, you learn that she is a brat. she was loud and always complaining. she couldn’t do any basic living needs for her life because somehow she would find a way to mess up even the simplest of tasks in a shocking fashion. she needed to be constantly babied because of how easily scared she could get at times when you shared your dorm with her. 

she was also known for getting brazenly vulgar with the other members. when some practices ended sour, she’d take it out on jihyo and jeongyeon, complaining to them on what the others needed to improve on. she wanted to be seen as perfect–no mistakes from her but for everyone else if something was out of line, she would be on your ass to make sure to get the routine right. 

not only was she vulgar, she could be physical too. always getting touchy with the members especially when intoxicated. there was a point in time where she had to be tied down to a chair because her and sana couldn’t keep their hands and faces away from each other, putting their lips all over their bodies until you and a few other members got uncomfortable. 

you wanted to feel uneasy when she acts like this when the group doesn’t have any scheduled activities going on–-but you were actually attracted to nayeon because of how she is. 

you moved in with nayeon at the apartment for a little over two years now and even though some days were better than living in hell that is her, you started to grow a desire for the version of drunk nayeon being all over sana. the image of her straddling sana on the chair, putting sana’s hands behind her back, letting nayeon do all the work with her large, veiny hands holding her head in place as she leaves marks on her neck. the other members cheering or jeering for her dare as she almost got carried away towards the end. 

you needed her to be like this for you, but it was definitely difficult on how you were going to pull it off.

—

you and the girls had embarked on a few tours locally already, but this was the second ever world tour that you guys ever did as a group and this time, more locations were added to give a little additional opportunities for the fans who saved up enough just to see you. 

it was a blast at first, but then the repetitive routine of touring began to take a toll on the group as a whole. getting to the country, go to the hotel, sleep, wake up, head to the venue, rehearse, go back to the hotel, downtime, get something to eat, sleep again, wake up again, concert preparation, concert, relax back at the hotel and sleep. it was organized, efficient, but it started to be too much at a certain point during the tour. 

luckily the label managed you and the others well by pairing you with another member to sleep with. that way it was to ensure a better overall state to keep the members in top condition both physically and emotionally. 

you got paired with nayeon as your roommate, which definitely made the setup more easier once well into the tour, all you had to do was something to get her going. 

unfortunately, you didn’t know that she wanted you all to herself ruined–and you were completely caught off guard by her desires. 

—

the tour stop was paris, and you were trying to fight off the last effects of jet lag with the extra sleep you took advantage of. everything was going soundly in your slumber as you occupied one side of the bed. 

nayeon however woke up to use the bathroom before making her way back to the bed at the sight of you peacefully sleeping away. laying belly down with the blanket just covering your lower half of the body, your well toned back in full display under your perfect wavy hair. 

she shifts herself back onto the bed as you flip yourself over unknowingly, unveiling your boobs to her as you shift your head back into the pillow still clearly knocked out. 

nayeon laid on her side as she grazes her fingers across your chiseled abs, before tracing the lower part of your jawline as she kept her eyes locked on your face that was still covered by your hair, lips parted perfectly as she circled your boobs. 

eventually her finger trailed more and more downward, pulling the blanket from your lower half slightly to get more easy access, she eventually started feeling through your panties letting the fabric rub against your flesh as she went in circles for a few minutes. 

then she started to get impatient. her intrusive thoughts were getting the best of her as she moved your panties to the side, running her two fingers across your folds yet again as you stifled a moan, still stirred in your sleep as nayeon slipped a finger inside you, finally releasing a gasp of air at the sensation as you slightly arched your back from the feeling. 

she couldn’t just stop there as she continued to pump her finger inside you as you finally came around, looking at nayeon as she kept her pace going, biting her lip as you let out a more audible moan at her. 

your senses come about as you flutter your eyes open still drowsy, trying to look down at what was happening down there, in shock as you moaned again in nayeon’s ear to get her to notice.  

“nay, what the fu-” 

she covered your mouth with her left hand as she continued to thrash you with her hands. something about her long fingers that almost mimicked your vibrator back at home—but this was nayeon’s hand you’re feeling and it was way different. 

your moans were becoming strangled as you gripped her forearm with both of your hands, trying to pry off her hand against your mouth, but nayeon had a firm strength that may not looked like it, but her hands covered half of your face as she tried to keep your moans from being picked up by the neighboring hotel guests. 

“nayeon, p-please, fuck so good…” 

you were getting close by the downright fucking nayeon was giving you as you were able to pull her hand away for a second before she put her hand over your mouth again. she needed you to be like this for her and you were sinking deeper into the mattress by the second. it was near bliss as you felt the release in your body almost imminently—until nayeon’s phone rings, stopping her completely as she slips her three fingers out of you. 

“hi jihyo! i just woke up, you’re ready to get breakfast?” 

your eyes roll back to their normal position as you pick your head up to see nayeon off the bed, putting her shoes on before looking back at your sloppy state. 

“what about y/n? oh she’s still sleeping she won’t be joining us i’m afraid.” 

you couldn’t utter a response as she smiled at you laid barren on the bed, facing away from her as she smiled at her work as she headed out the door of your room. 

you got taken advantage of by nayeon, but you wanted more of her and it was going to drive you crazy. 

—

the mirrors of the makeup vanity reflected your distasteful expression, annoyed as if the you in the mirror was mocking you for what happened earlier this morning. 

it was going to be a long day, but there was a concert to be performed so until then you tried your best to keep your sexual thoughts with nayeon at bay. 

what made it even worse was the fact that you haven’t seen nayeon at all up until the performance. you didn’t see her backstage or in the green room—she was simply nowhere to be found. the only times you’ve seen her was on the way to the venue, during soundcheck, and during the concert. what she did before that after this morning was all but a mystery to you. 

the concert went smoothly as expected. given the amount of extensive training and rehearsal prior you’ve become exceptionally good at putting on a facade for the fans. the songs and dance routines were more than just second nature and muscle memory as you and the girls performed flawlessly yet again. it wasn’t until the encore portion of the concert where hell started to break through again with her. 

you were just minding your business waving off the fans as the song continued to play out, only to notice that nayeon had creeped up behind you draping her arm over you as you looked at her perfected fake smile. the fans wanted some service and nayeon was well known to give something to spoil them on twitter later—grinding on your side as you played along running your hand down your body making the fans go absolutely feral as nayeon dropped down, caressing your ass as she made her way back up. 

you couldn’t say anything to her with all the loud noise so all you could do was hang your mouth open as she walked to the other side of the stage where jihyo and sana were, flaunting her ass at you as you looked back at the fans of what just happened. 

—

once the concert was well done and over with, it was customary to throw a livestream for about an hour and a half before heading back to the hotel for more downtime before sleeping. while that was happening however, nayeon was leading you to a secluded spot outside the common area where everyone was located, still confused as to where she was taking you. 

“nayeon, i still want to talk about a few things, so i hope this better be that.” 

once the door closed to let darkness envelop the whole room, it was swift motion as nayeon’s lips found yours. pressing you against the door as you try to fight her aggressive dominance which makes you groan into her face. your brain is getting hazy again—just like this morning as her hands weave their way under your concert attire, moaning out loud once nayeon’s lips nipped at your neck suddenly. 

before you could let your desires take control, you had one last bit of rationality as you pushed nayeon away for a second, feeling her half-lidded eyes stare at you as you two have a moment to collect your breath. 

“fuck nayeon, i don’t get you sometimes.” 

nayeon tilts her head, hand still pressed against the door next to your face, inching closer to you as you try to look away. 

“what isn’t that you don’t get?” 

“you do one thing, and you say another. your actions are so contradictive and it doesn’t make sense to me.” 

“that should be the least of your problems y/n.” 

you couldn’t help but scoff at nayeon’s last sentence there as the lights flicker on in the room that you two were in. 

“we’re not done with this by the way,  i hope you know that.” 

there we go, you lit the tinderbox. 

she walks out of the door back into the more lively room as you stand in the open, your cunt pulsating at what nayeon was going to do to you once you two got back to the hotel room. 

maybe this was it–you finally set her off and now you were going to face the consequences. 

—

when you and her eventually make it back to the hotel room, it was nothing like you were expecting. it was just a standard nighttime regimen as you tried to prepare yourself for nayeon by resisting the urge to sleep. 

you lose that battle quite quickly than you’d hoped. 

in the later hours of the night, you were sound asleep whilst nayeon looked over from her side of the bed. she was thinking about how good she was fucking you dumb before ignoring you for almost the entire day. she almost felt bad about doing it, but in that brief moment of clarity in the darkness, she needed to satisfy her needs yet again. 

in a few quick moments, she straddles you, getting rid of the heat building within her as she took her top off before slowly running her hands up your waist to your breasts. 

you barely nudged however, nayeon did like the fact that you slept like a log at times. 

nayeon needed to double down her efforts in riling you up as she started to run her breath across your face and neck—before planting her lips on your pulse point that made you jolt slightly at the contact. nayeon pulls away for a second, her common sense telling her that there was a better way to handle this, but she ultimately shakes her head before diving back to your neck again. 

luckily, you make it easier for nayeon to get access as you perk your head up, giving more space for nayeon to leave marks as she lathers her tongue and lips all over your sensitive point—making you moan a little bit more loudly in the process. 

she then lays over you for a second while fondling your breasts, “you should be awake for this, too bad you might miss out.” nayeon says as she begins to make her way down your body, leaving kisses toward your sensitive area as you shift your back upward again, arching at the contact of her hands and lips. 

pulling away the covers, she notices that you were weaning panties to sleep again, noticing a small spot that was stained right in the middle of your sensitive area as she couldn’t help but chuckle at you. 

“what is it with you having wet dreams recently huh? looking all pretty for me just to ruin you.” 

nayeon ran her hands up your midsection again, this time letting her nails dig into your skin as you slightly trembled at the feeling of her hands while she kissed the inner thigh of your leg—leaving another string of marks. 

she then slides your panties down from your legs, taken aback as you reflexively spread your legs out wide open for her. nayeon was losing all sensibility as she inched ever so closer to your presenting arousal. 

“opening your legs out wide even in your sleep baby? something tells me that you needed me to treat you well like this morning when you couldn’t say it earlier.” 

nayeon runs her thumb over your folds as a string of slick could be seen when she swipes upward, looking at the palm of her hand as she feels your wetness internalizes on her fingertips. 

“you want my fingers inside of you again? i’ll give you more than my fingers baby, all you have to do is just ask me next time.” 

she was having a full on conversation with herself saying the most vile things, but she’d do it all over again anyway. 

nayeon then runs her two fingers across your folds again, before slowly inserting them inside—earning a small grunt from you as you move a bit, still asleep as she continues to insert and draw back her fingers inside you. 

“i love how my fingers just vanish inside your pussy.. you wanted me to fuck you like this while sleeping. god, it’s pathetic of you y/n.” 

nayeon shifts herself back up next to you like this morning as she continues to relentlessly pummel your entrance as you put your arm over your face, almost trying to deny the pleasure that’s happening to you right now. 

“still not enough to get you awake baby?” nayeon asks you as she pumps her hand inside you continuously, before slowing her pace a bit as you were still asleep at this point. 

“maybe this will convince you to wake up.” 

that was the only thing you heard as you started to gain consciousness. 

nayeon’s movement in the dark was still swift, but she managed to mess up by slipping her hand and leg off the bed accidentally before gripping on your leg to stop her from falling. 

she eventually pulls the cover off of you, uncovering your exposed region as nayeon nestles herself between your legs, face hovering over your pussy as she lifts your legs over your shoulders before giving your leaking core light kisses to tease you. 

you feel the light touch of her lips on your entrance as you jolted at the contact, bucking your hips upward as your eyes shot open instantly. 

before you could say anything, nayeon latches her lips and the surge of overwhelming pleasure clouds your mind as you groan out again, nayeon biting your clit to make you squeal out loud enough for the guests next door to hear. 

“n-nayeon…” 

“aww you’re finally awake? well good, cuz i’m cleaning up the mess you made right now.” 

her hand reaches for your breast as she latches her left arm over your stomach, bracing you to the bed as she continues to wreck your swollen pussy with her mouth. 

your grip on the sheets was hard enough to rip them to shreds as she went down on you as she pulls away for a second, your hips shaking as she strips away the super nice feeling of her tongue on your pussy. 

“y-you’re such a bitch n-nay-” 

“i hope this isn’t already too much for you because of how much your legs are shaking, you’re not ready for what i’m about to do next are ya?” 

you tried to sit up in an attempt to defy nayeon’s rule over you, feeling her big hand in the center of your chest, pushing you back down as she grabs your neck, suffocating you slightly as you gasp for air. 

“i know you like this y/n, your body is telling me otherwise.” 

“i–i ngh-” 

you tried your best to come up with a response as you tried to get her hand off your neck so that you could breathe a bit more. that only made nayeon choke you harder as you gasped for air in short, strained breaths. 

“such a mess for me, fuck y/n i was really holding myself back for you all day because of this morning.” 

nayeon loosens her grip on your neck as she runs her nails down your side as you tried to squirm away from her dominant presence. there was simply nowhere to run or hide, nayeon finally had you right where she wanted—a wreck and you liked it. 

“are you ready for another go?” 

nayeon stopped for a second to wait for your approval, the last sign of any saving grace or indication that you were genuinely uneasy with what she was doing. 

it didn’t feel right for nayeon to act like this, but considering that every member has had their fruity moments already as it is from time to time, this was another echelon of an idea that was never toyed with—until tonight. 

so without a second thought running through your mind, your heart was throbbing through your chest as you gave nayeon a simple signal of approval. 

you nod. 

you could feel nayeon’s smile in the bleak light that was breaking through the hotel window as she pounced forward at you on the bed, crashing her lips with yours as she forced your hands over your head, assuring that she still had absolute control over you. 

she pulls away kissing your jaw as you felt the heat more warmly across your body, only for her to lean over your ear once again to whisper something. 

“we’re gonna be at this all night, so you better be prepared, my pretty girl.” 

you whimper as she repositions herself in the same state she was before you woke up as she dove back into your pussy once again with her mouth—this time not letting up in her pace whatsoever as you grab the back of her head to let her tongue get deeper into your walls. 

she was aching with hunger, the only thing that you could do was prolong this new feeling of this version of nayeon for as long as you could as you shift your hips in every direction possible to get the most out of nayeon’s nose and tongue over your seeping entrance. 

nayeon then ups the ante when she pulls away for a second, placing one of her arms over your stomach as she grabs a pillow to elevate your hips off of the mattress. you were still breathless as she slid the pillow under your lower back and got another pillow to stack on top of that. 

you would think that nayeon would give you a quick breather of a break, but that automatically went away as she thrusts her tongue back into your pussy, this time adding three fingers in you as you yelp at the new feeling, lifting yourself off of the pillows only for nayeon to shove you back down, growling at your attempted action. 

“you better not nudge baby, i still need to finish my meal.” 

the only thing that you could respond with was a simple nod, biting your lip to stop yourself from letting out another moan as nayeon continued to pound you endlessly. it’s so new, your body is taking in new information, and your mind is getting clouded by nayeon’s fingers. 

“fuck fuck f-fuck nay, w–wait—oh my god hngh-” 

“don’t ask me to stop now, you’re taking me so well with your pussy being this loose for me hm?” 

you moaned uncontrollably at this point from nayeon’s words, your mind was all but pure mush. 

“please, s-so close ‘wanna cum-” 

nayeon pulls her fingers out of you as she gives your pussy one longing lick, leaving you shuddering as she lapped you up like a popsicle. 

“you ready?” 

“please nay, i can take it.” 

you couldn’t think straight, nayeon could only nod at your impresive resilience as she puts back in one finger inside you.

then another.

then her third finger.

and finally her fourth finger. 

you writhe in the new sensation as she pumps all four fingers inside you back and forth, curling the first joints of each finger as you couldn’t recover for not even a second. 

the intensity is built up as she picks up her pace yet again thrusting her hand, lips latching onto your clit as she keeps herself steady for the next few minutes or so.

you don’t know how long it’s been, you kept tossing and turning at nayeon not giving you any inkling to breathe as she held you down. scratching up your midsection as she bombarded your spent pussy with her spread fingers and swirling tongue ravishing you—your movements slowly subsiding as you felt the buildup in your stomach increasing. 

“nayeon please– ‘m gonna please please please—” 

you pleaded to cum for her at this point—eventually doing so as she let’s your lower body shake out of control, hand gripping your breast again and pinching your nipple as you uttered a literal cry as you tried your best to control your breathing (you couldn’t) as nayeon pulls away giving your cunt one more kiss before trailing upwards back to your face. 

tears were literally seeping out as you calmed down, the urge of sleepiness coming back to you after being edged god knows how many times and nayeon was more proud of herself at you as she laid beside you. it was clearly shown that you were spent, but you were able to tap nayeon’s leg to get her attention before passing out in the end. 

“thank you…” 

“you did so well for me baby, i would do more but i think this is enough for now.” she says to you, raking your hair as your eyes fluttered closed, kissing your cheek as she caressed your boobs and abs again for a few more minutes before pulling the tossed cover from the bed over you and her, cuddling away. 

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