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starstruckunknown-princess · 1 year

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This Must Be the Place

Summary: Emma McDonough was at her brother's wedding in Minneapolis when the world ended. Twenty years later, the boyfriend she left behind shows up in Lincoln, MA just after she gets her feet back under her. Follow Emma on her journey from Austin to Minneapolis to Lincoln to the Boston QZ to...wherever else Joel Miller may lead her.

Pairings: Joel Miller/OFC, Bill/Frank, hints of Joel/Tess

Warnings: Angst, canon-typical violence, fainting, former lovers reunion, mentions of dead pet (dog), if I missed any let me know!

Word Count: 3023

A/N: First time writing for TLOU -- I've never played the game but I'm head over heels in love with the show, so this series will follow that. Somewhat established relationship between Joel and OFC, Emma, but they haven't seen each other in twenty years which complicates things a bit!

Looking forward to your feedback! There will be at least a Part 2, but hoping this will be a series so let me know what you think!

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

April 16, 2023

When Joel flicked on the radio, “Cecelia” by Simon and Garfunkel started playing on the radio. Followed by “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac. Then “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” by Diana Ross. Joel glanced at Tess where she was sitting at the shitty little table in the kitchen. All she did was nod.

“Tomorrow night?” he asked.

Again, Tess nodded. Joel got to his feet and started packing for the trip to Bill and Frank’s. Seventies hits meant “new stock” and since his normal oxy dealer had stood him up last week they were hurting for supplies.

From under the floorboards he unfurled his pack and reached inside, feeling for the collar that he kept in the bottom of it. His fingers brushed against smooth leather, and relief spread up his arm and across his chest.

The collar meant almost as much to Joel as his watch did. It served as a reminder of those he had lost, but unlike the watch that was entirely Sarah, the collar held a double meaning. First, of the dog who had worn it. Secondly, of the woman who had picked it out.

Bash, a shaggy black border collie/lab mix. Emma, the lost love of his life.

Blue leather, dirtied brown with age, and a metal clip that jangled every time the dog shook himself out. Since Emma hated the constant clicking of his tags, she’d found a one that clipped onto the band of the collar rather than dangling off the d-ring.

Once upon a time, the tag was engraved with ‘Bash’ and had her phone number beneath. Nearly half of it had been scraped away due to age and the car accident they’d been in on Outbreak Day.

Somehow the dog had escaped the accident unscathed, had followed Joel while he carried Sarah through the wreckage of their Austin suburb. Had laid down and whined next to Sarah’s body. Like Joel, Tommy had to drag the dog away from the girl’s body and get them moving again. Joel had buried his face in the dog’s thick fur to sop up his tears. For the next six years, Bash didn’t leave Joel’s side.

Until he got bit.

Joel couldn’t think about what happened next, just like he didn’t let himself think about what happened to Sarah.

It was better, easier, to shove those memories into the back of his mind so he could get on with the business of daily survival.

By now, fourteen years later, the dog would’ve been long gone anyway. Still, Joel shoved the collar into the bottom of every bag he packed. Every time he and Tess left on a smuggling mission, he couldn’t bring himself to leave it behind, hidden under the floorboards with his weapons and whiskey. If he believed in that sort of thing, he would think bringing the collar was akin to bringing the dog himself. With you in spirit, or some shit like that.

But he didn’t believe that. The dog was dead. Most likely, his owner was too. If the world was kind, she had been dead since the beginning.

But this world was far from kind.

It was only habit that made him stash the strap of blue leather in the front pocket of his pack. Like checking over his shoulder while walking through the QZ after sundown or tapping the bottom of his whiskey glass on the table after a ‘cheers’.

Not the unhinged glimmer of hope that one day he would be able to present the collar to its original owner. That one day he would see her face again. That one day he would know for sure if she had survived or not.

Joel shook the thoughts out of his mind, clenching his jaw at his own foolishness. He packed the rest of his supplies quickly, then put the pack by the door so it would be ready to grab and go after his shift at the ash pit tomorrow. Tess had a street sweeping rotation, so they’d get done around the same time.

The sound of the spring rain against the windows helped usher him into sleep that night despite the ache in his knees and back. Joel dreamt of her for the first time in ages and awoke feeling emptier than usual.

Emma enjoyed going up and down the stairs without a cast and crutches so much that when she reached the bottom, she turned around on her heel and climbed them again before descending once more.

“Someone doesn’t miss her cast at all,” Frank commented, wheeling himself into the foyer from the parlor. A wide smile cracked her face in half.

“Not even a little bit,” she replied. “Where’s Bill?”

The gruffer of the two gentlemen was usually right behind his partner, wheeling him from room to room even though Frank insisted he could do that himself — “It’s my legs that are useless, Bill, my arms are fine!”

“Making sure the seedlings survived the storm,” Frank explained, gesturing out the back door with one hand. “His elbow is still bugging him though, so we’re in for more rain.” He let Emma redirect him back to the parlor and she sat on the piano bench in front of him.

“He could’ve asked me to do that,” she said as she held up two fingers of each of her hands out to him and Frank reached forward, squeezing them as tightly as he could. His grip was a little weaker than yesterday, but she didn’t mention that out loud.

Now that her right leg was out of the cast, she knew her time in this well-equipped domestic paradise was coming to an end. Bill had always insisted that once she was healed she would continue on her way to the Boston QZ and never mention Lincoln to anyone. He’d even made her sign a contract to that effect in her own blood.

Even though Frank insisted that Bill softened over time and had come to enjoy Emma’s company, a pit in her stomach told her that sooner or later she would have to call the Boston QZ home.

“You know him, so used to doing everything his own way. If he had asked you he would’ve redone it anyway,” Frank said as she led him through the physical therapy exercises she knew for dexterity.

Tapping each fingertip to the thumb (the middle finger of his left hand didn’t cooperate), flexion/extension (mostly good), and the wrist deviations (again, the left hand was less than cooperative). Then they did their regular arm stretches together.

“That’s fair. I still feel like I should pull more weight around here,” she lamented.

The couple had taken her in, fed her from their garden and supplies, and for the first two weeks she wasn’t able to do much more than entertain Frank until Bill found her a pair of crutches in one of the various places in town he’d squirreled things away.

Frank put a hand on her knee. “You’re doing all you can. The cast only came off a week ago, you need to take it easy or you’ll re-break your leg.”

“Hey, who’s the doctor here?” Emma joked, smiling at Frank. He smiled back at her and tugged at the end of the braid that lay on her shoulder, fondness crinkling his eyes. She was going to miss him dearly.

They’d spent hours talking about their lives in the pre-outbreak days and the years since. She told him about how she was at her little brother’s rehearsal dinner when the shit hit the fan, running for her life in a cocktail dress. He’d shared the horrors of the Baltimore QZ falling and his journey north. She let him know the heartbreaking reason she was traveling to Boston.

Emma hadn’t thought she would ever tell anyone that secret, but Frank was so easy to trust, to befriend, to adore. His big blue eyes never showed the slightest hint of judgment or disgust at the things she had done to survive. He was an incredible listener and he gave the best hugs, even in the wheelchair. She understood why Bill fell for him.

Bill, on the other hand, was more reluctant to open up to her. He listened to her stories like he was looking for weaknesses or trying to catch her in a lie. Once he saw that Frank was comfortable around her, however, his answers to her questions became less monosyllabic. They talked about wines and gardening and radio broadcasting and he even let her start seeds in the seedling trays.

“Oh yeah, Doc?” Frank teased, “Where’s your degree?”

“University of Shitty FEDRA Med School, class of ‘05,” she joked. This was a common back and forth between them.

They laughed as she wheeled him to the back porch in front of his easel. Once she got him a clean rag for his brushes, she retreated to her room and picked up the book she had started the previous day, Jane Eyre. One of her favorites.

Her reading was interrupted an hour and a half later by Frank shouting at her from the bottom of the stairs.

“Em! Come down and meet our friends from the QZ!”

She’d heard tell of the smugglers, Tess and Joel from the Boston QZ. They brought building materials and seeds and, most importantly, Frank’s pain meds. She’d pointedly ignored the flash of excitement the name ‘Joel’ gave her — the chances of this Joel being her Joel were slim to none.

Emma made herself presentable in the dusty hall mirror, then descended the staircase — only once this time — and went out the open front door. Outside smelled like wet earth and petrichor and ozone. She stepped onto the porch with a ‘creak’ and two people who stood midway down the front walk whipped around to face her. From the other side of them, Frank was smiling and waving her closer.

A tall woman with graying brown hair and intense hazel eyes straightened as Emma approached. Her face told Emma the story of hard-won survival, of a fierceness that Emma recognized.

The second person, the man reaching for his gun, made her heart thud to a complete stop. His dark brown eyes widened and his hand fell away from the gun tucked in his holster.

Joel.

His hair and beard were grayer, his face lined deeper in what she figured was a permanent frown, but it was him. Same firm jaw, same powerful frame. Joel, it was Joel — her Joel!

Emma couldn’t draw a breath. Instead, she felt all her blood rush downward and her vision blackened around the edges. Her shoulder slammed into the door jamb, but she barely felt it and her knees crashed to the wood porch.

She came to almost immediately, multiple pairs of hands helping her up and ushering her into the parlor.

“Head between your knees, hun,” a woman’s voice reached her as they placed her in a plush chair. “Deep breaths, in and out. There you go.”

Emma followed the instructions and felt oxygen beginning to circulate in her body again. Bill’s rough hand passed her a glass of water, and she took small sips as she sat back up. The woman — Tess, she assumed — had a look of concern on her features, Bill’s mustache twitched.

“Can you tell me your name? Do you know where you are?” Tess demanded.

“Emma McDonough, I’m in Lincoln Massachusetts,” Emma answered. She could hear Frank yelling from outside and Bill ducked out, returning momentarily. Frank’s eyes were as wide as saucers and he all but lunged for Emma, his hands fluttering around her like a mother hen.

“Are you okay? What the hell happened?”

“I’m fine, I swear, I was just…surprised, is all.”

“Surprised by what?” Frank asked, dropping his hands.

Bill answered, “You know Joel. There’s history there?”

Emma nodded, “Yeah.”

“Oh, shit,” Tess said, “You’re her, aren’t you? The girlfriend who was out of town when it all happened?”

Emma nodded. The room went silent. She looked between the three others in the room, not seeing the cause of her embarrassingly Austen-like swoon. Tess looked out the window, then crossed to the front door. Bill and Frank shared one of their looks and Frank’s hand came to rest on her knee. They all turned their heads at the sound of approaching boots. A few seconds later, Joel’s broadness blocked most of the door frame.

“Can-” he paused, clearing his throat, “Can y’all give us a moment?”

“Of course,” Frank said, squeezing Emma’s knee. “We’ll be just outside if you need us.”

Bill gave her a look that said, ‘I’ll shoot him if you want me to,’ as he wheeled Frank out the door to join Tess on the porch.

Joel closed the pocket doors next to her, then leaned his forehead against them. Emma got to her feet, slowly so as not to faint again. Her mind buzzed with questions, so many of them she had no idea where to begin.

“I-I don’t even know where to start,” she offered. “What-? How-? I…I…”

Joel turned to face her. His eyes darted over her figure, an unreadable expression on his hardened face. All of a sudden, Emma felt self-conscious.

Twenty years had gone by and she knew she didn’t look the same as she used to. Like Joel, the years had hardened her face. Her body was softer in places that were once firm, thicker around the middle but still svelte. She wasn’t the sexy thirty-year-old she’d been when they’d started dating. Then again, he’d softened around the middle too but it hadn’t detracted from the strength and power he radiated.

It didn’t detract from how drop-dead sexy he was. If anything, the years of survival had given his rugged good looks sharper edges that she was more than willing to dash herself against.

She moved first, taking a half-step toward him like he was a timber wolf she had managed to corner. He instinctively stepped back and held up a hand to stop her. She stopped. The air between them thickened.

Slowly, Joel shrugged off the pack on his back, holding it with one arm and digging into it with the other. Emma’s brow furrowed and her head tilted. Once he had retrieved what he was searching for, he let the pack drop to the ground and stepped toward her, offering her what was in his hand.

A beat up scrap of leather that might’ve once been blue. The clip-on tag was all scratched to shit, but she knew it had once read ‘Bash’. Joel was careful to not let their hands touch as she let him place the collar in her hand. Her fingers closed around it, tears springing into her eyes. She noticed Joel’s shoulders tighten, his hand scrubbing down his face.

Memories of the smiling, happy dog flooded her mind and she pressed the collar to her chest. Her eyes slid shut.

Picking out Bash at the shelter, just a little shaggy floppy-eared puppy. All the training that had convinced her she would never be ready for a baby. The fights that realization caused with her ex-husband. Bash putting himself between them during those fights, growling at her ex-husband.

She heard wood tracks rattling and opened her eyes just in time to see Joel exiting the front door of the house.

Emma jogged after him, “Hey! Wait!”

Joel was halfway down the front walk again, heading toward where Bill, Frank, and Tess were chatting. He paused but didn’t turn back toward her.

“What? Were you expecting some tearful joyous reunion?” he asked from over his shoulder, voice dangerously low.

Emma stopped her approach at the bottom of the stairs, mouth agape as if he’d just slapped her. Rage swelled within her. What the fuck did he have to be so defensive — so dismissive — about? “After twenty years, maybe I expect a little more than you handing me my dead dog’s collar and leaving, yeah!”

Joel turned to her, “I’m not the same, Emma. It’s been twenty years, I’ve been through a lot-”

How dare he! She whipped the collar at him and raised her voice, “Fuck you! You don’t think I have too?” He caught the leather and tucked it into his back pocket. Tess, Bill, and Frank all turned toward them when they heard her shouting. She ignored them, keeping her focus on Joel.

“I didn’t say that,” he argued, his hands going to his hips in a way she remembered all too well. “Just trying to temper expectations.”

“Temper expectations? If you’re not happy to see me just fucking say so,” Emma spat. Her volume had returned to normal, but the three other adults were heading their way.

“It ain’t that. I’m glad to see you alive, Emma, I am, but it’s not like we have the time to fall into each other’s arms and sob it out right now.”

She threw her arms up in frustration. “You were the one who asked for a minute!”

“Cuz you fuckin’ fainted!”

He may as well have slapped her. All at once, she understood why he’d given her the collar after carrying around for so long. The hard look he was giving her and how he was carefully maintaining his distance —

He thought she was weak. Vulnerable. A damsel in need of protection. And, if this world had taught her anything, it was no place for damsels.

Good thing she wasn’t one.

She closed the distance between them and slapped him across the face, making sure she made it hurt. Tess shouted and slotted herself between the former couple and Bill grabbed Emma around the waist, dragging her back. Turning, Tess guided Joel back a few steps and spoke to him in a low tone.

Emma shook Bill off of her and headed back into the house. She glanced over her shoulder, catching Joel’s gaze on her for a moment. He rubbed his jaw with a big hand and brushed Tess’s hands away from himself, dark brown eyes following her into the house and up the stairs.

#joel miller x oc #joel miller fic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tlou series #bill and frank #tlou bill and frank #tlou fic #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo fic #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #pedro pascal characters #long lost love #lovers reunite #poor bash

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vaugarde · 1 year

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morphogala is a yuri tragedy. to me

#you lose your partner in ancient times to the very people you protect #you get sealed away for your power and viewed as a demon by some and a nameless challenge by others #you are only let out to battle and are resealed again each time gettingg more dehumanized as the years go #time stops meaning anything people stop meaning everything you keep fighting #until its all that you know and your mind is broken and everyone fears and hates yoh and #but they dont remember you and your true name is lost to time #you live up to the fear you destroy planets you destroy timelines because it doesnt matter to you anymore everything is the same #youve lost everything years ago you are numb to it your lancing hand shakes but all you know is violence so you must endure #all the while your lover has become the god of judgment and has been searching for you for so long #not to reunite not to be together again. youre both too far gone for that #all it can do when it finally finds you is to make sure you cant be fought ever again #echoed voice

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apaethy · 2 years

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62% through queen of the damned and louis has literally only spoken two lines. i hate it here...

#entry #idk if my protagonist had only just reunited with his long lost eternal lover #and had him ripped away less than 24 hours later after being kidnapped by A LITERAL GOD #IDK ID MAKE HIM MAYBE MORE VOCAL IN HIS ANGUISH AND FEAR ABOUT LESTAT MISSING #rip to anne rice but im different i guess..........

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genderlessghoul · 3 months

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"And what of the ones that took my life?"

"They got what they deserved for taking the one I cared most about away from me."

"And here I was, thinking the one you cared for most was yourself... Could it be, my oldest friend, that your heart is not as frigid as some would think?"

"It is true enough, my dearest, that my heart was locked away a long time ago. But you alone hold the key."

#Cold blooded psychopath character is reunited with their long lost lover or something like that #idk #meerkat's whatever

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glow-in-the-dark-death · 4 months

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We Help, Lost & Found

Danny after all the things back home settle down (finally), decides to open a little lost and found vintage shop.

(As part of his royal training as prince before his coronation to happen to officially be King, he needs to know how to manage the GZ and have good relations with em, and this is good practice)

The things he sell are given to him by the other ghost who wish for their belonging to be return to someone important to them when they were alive (family, descendant, friends, a past lover, a helpful stranger)

Danny's shop is somewhat connected to his haunt, and with his space core it can have a weird effect to the people passing near his shop, giving them the feeling of them having to go inside because there is something important in there waiting just for them.

The shop starts to gain a reputation.

People can understand to a level how the shop had their families old furniture or a specific jacket from your great-gramps, but entire albums worth of picture that you were sure were destroyed in a fire or have lost for many decades tends to raise some eyebrows.

People start to talk.

Duke just casually walked by the shop, his neck cracking by the force of how fast he turned to look at this little shop he was sure was not there yesterday: " Uh, guys was I dosed with something or is there somehow a black hole just inside that shop?!"

(Cue the Batfam being hella nosy and -oop Bruce casually going inside to investigate inside the shop)

Bruce: " Hello just checking out at the interesting stuff in he- is that my mother's pearl necklace!"

Danny's enjoying the whole thing, he gets to reunite sentimental things to people & and be an absolute troll.

Danny trying not to grin: "Why no sir! I had no idea how Important these things are I'm just selling them, oh I'm selling things that went missing and were part of a crime scene?! How terrible!"

Just an Idea

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servicpop · 3 months

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NOW STARRING : deliquent (almost) bf (Adrien) x good student reader

「ㅤNSFWㅤ」ㅤAdrien gets a bit lonely and pulls reader under the staircase during break!

✙ warnings — semi-public sex, masturbation, orgasm denial, reader isn't 100% submissive, dirty talk / like 2 sentences of degradation and praise / not actually dating / slight internalised homophobia / mentions of bisexual Adrien

notes ,, first smut, hope I did well -> part 1 | not proofread!

"Fuck— keep quiet alright?"

When Adrien left a cryptic text message saying to meet underneath the staircase, you at first thought you had done something wrong and he was going to beat you up for whatever you did. But, turns out — it was a really silly reason — that Adrien saw this couple making out underneath the tree they had and he wanted to experience something like that with you. Obviously because friends help friends right?

Underneath the staircase was quite dim and almost eerie. It wasn't as romantic as kissing underneath a cherry blossom tree but when have you two ever been the cheesy romantic type? When you arrived, he pulled you in close, wrapping his arms around you like he had been reunited with his long lost lover — which wasn't too far off since he truly believed that you two dated in a previous life. When he hugged you, you tried to act nonchalant, you tried to ignore the warmth that his chest gave off or how safe you felt in his stupdily built arms. Friends aren't supposed to feel like this to eachother, especially if both parties are men!

"Did you call me over just to hug?" You chuckled softly, fighting every bone in your body to not hug him back. You gotta be strong, you can't fall for a deliquent bad boy, it's too cliché.

"I called you over to fuck."

"Wait, what?"

You felt Adrien's hand grip the back of your head, pulling your hair hard enough to tilt your chin up but not hard enough to hurt (he can't be hurting his precious boy). His chapped lips met yours, it was obvious that he didn't take very good care of his lips but that didn't matter, you'd help him out later. The kiss was rough and almost experimental as if Adrien had never kissed another in his life — which was wrong seeing how he's had multiple girlfriends in the past — he seemed almost hesitant, unsure.

Fuck it. Just this once you'd give in to Adrien, but that doesn't mean you were dating him!

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you prod your tongue against his lips, you figured you would demonstrate how to kiss properly to him, he was a hands on learner after all. His eyes widened slightly and his hands dropped to your waist, supporting your balance as he hesitantly opened his mouth, letting your tongue explore. It was weird because usually he'd be the one always taking control but your occasional leading was a breath of fresh air.

After awhile he pulled away with a smirk, "I got it," he replied before picking you up and forcing you to rely on him for stability. A small squeak left your throat as you were hoisted up in the air and pressed against the wall, your legs instinctively wrapped around Adrien's waist. He kissed you again except this time he took dominance, roughly exploring your mouth, poking and prodding at anything he could find. He was so rough that you hadn't noticed his belt come off until the metal clinked on the ground, then you realised what was poking at your ass.

Shit, he was big. Not necessarily in length but girth and thickness, it was practically the perfect all-rounder.

"Wait— Adrien, condom?" You stuttered, the fear finally settling in now. Its not like you were a virgin, just that you've never had someone like... Adrien. His eyes met yours in slight disappointment but he didn't want to go too far on his first time with you, plus, he wasn't even dating you so why would he go so far? Shaking off his thoughts he nodded, rummaging in his pocket for one while keeping you pressed against the cold wall.

"Jerk me off first? The latex gets uncomfortable to put on," He put on a fake pout, letting you stand as he held his throbbing cock out for you to see. You huffed, he was definitely lying but you'd humour him. Just for today.

You reached down, your warm palm engulfing his tip and he let out a low grown in response. Your thumb rubbed against his slit and a smile cracked onto your face when you saw the pre-cum leaking out already. His forearms caged you in as his head hung low, you could see his eyebrows furrowing and the way his face contorted in pleasure. Adrien's hips grinded up into your fist, matching your rhythm as you stroked his cock, gripping tighter at the base before swirling your thumb on his tip. It was almost like you were massaging his climax out.

"S-shit how are you so good with your hands," He sucked in air between his teeth as he hissed, groans and low moans slipped out of his mouth like water. Eager hips bucked up into your fist, chasing his release. "Close, fuck—" He cursed under his breath, his hips almost slamming into your hand, his body trembed as he was so close. His eyes flew open as he looked down to see your thumb covering his urethral opening, denying him of an orgasm, "Wh–?"

"That's enough isn't it? It should slip on easily now," You grinned, taking the condom from his hand and ripping it open with your fingers, rolling the rubber over his now overly sensitive dick. He stared in disbelief, you just... denied him? Him? Oh you were getting it now.

"You little pervert," Adrien chuckled darkly as he whipped you around, pressing your chest against the wall and holding your arms behind your back. It wasn't the most comfortable position ever but your uncomfort was interrupted when he pulled your pants down with your boxers. It was embarassing to say the least, showing off your ass like this to another guy, you were glad you had to face the wall, otherwise you might’ve crumbled from embarrassment if you saw how hungry Adrien looked.

He was teasing you. Edging you. Slipping his cock along your entrance but never actually pushing in. You were dying of anticipation because from your position, it was hard to see anything other than the walls. A surprised and embarrassingly loud moan slipped out and you'd cover your mouth if it wasn't for Adrien's hand binding your wrists together. Adrien had slammed his hips into you, his cock buried deep inside you. No warning no nothing, he was truly cruel. One hand was gripping your hip while the other hand let go of your wrists, you were finally able to stabilise yourself against the wall but long fingers thrusted their way into your mouth. Well this was new.

You gagged slightly around his fingers as you tried to say something about it but your words were blocked by Adrien's middle and ring finger. His hips also began to pick up speed, pulling out almost fully before slamming back in. You were kind of thankful for his thick fingers blocking and muffling your moans or else people were sure to catch you two fucking like bunnies underneath the staircase.

He leaned down so that his chest was flush against your back and the hand that was gripping your hip turned into his arm linking around your waist as he held you close. Adrien's breath fanned your ear before he spoke, "You know those– puppy bandages you gave me yesterday?" His question was broken from panting and groans as he kept thrusting. "Where did you buy them? I– fuck– want them," Adrien chuckled.

You would answer if you didn't have two fingers stuffed in your throat. "You know... good boys don't gatekeep, you don't wanna be good for me?" Fuck. You were never the one for praise but that? That made you cum on the spot. Your knees gave out as your poor cock spurted out white but Adrien was already keeping you up right. He laughed, his gravelly laugh travelled straight through your ears and to your cock. He smiled against your shoulder, almost like he was hugging you from behind, he quickly came after you. Shame that it wasn't inside you but it would do for now.

You both panted, and he took this opportunity of vulnerability from you to sink his teeth into your skin, eliciting a small gasp from you, "What the fuck Adrien?" The bell rung, indicating that break was over and you whined, fixing your uniform before pulling your boxers and your pants up, wincing from the weird sticky feeling from not cleaning up. Adrien was already dressed and he waved you off, quickly running off to a spot where he could skip the next few classes with his friends. You'd have to fix yourself up in the bathroom later.

BONUS

"Did you seriously cum from my praise?

"No, it's just a normal reaction."

"Who's a good boy?"

"Fuck you..."

"Nope! Never letting you top."

"I didn't mean it like that!"

♡

notes ,, the smut wasn't as detailed as I wanted it to be but I get fics done in like a day so I didn't want it to be so long, anyways! That's adrien, I'll be working on a fic for my next oc "

#bottom male reader #sub male reader #dom male character #top character #oc x male reader #male reader #male x reader #male x male #mlm #semi public sex #oc x reader #servicpop — fics/drabbles

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marigoldenblooms · 1 month

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That's a Wrap - One Shot

Pairing: Director!Natasha x Fem!Actor!Reader x Actor!Wanda (MINORS DNI - 18+)

Summary: You and Wanda can’t seem to get this scene right. With your director’s help, you manage.

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Is Y/N in the room with us right now (They aren’t), Dom!Natasha, Switch!Wanda, Bottom!Reader. Dub-con, power dynamic (Director/Actor), voyeurism, degradation, praise, semi-public sex, semi-orgasm denial, light edging, objectification, oral (W receiving), fingering (R receiving), strap-on use(R receiving), some pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling, ma’am, Tasha(For N), Wan/Wands(For W), Mommy(For W, used loosely)), Nat calls her strap her dick, semi-previous established relationship? Porn with plot, clothed sex, sextape, light aftercare, fluff at the end.

A/N: Welcome to the first issue of Smut Saturdays! Want to really create some good shit in this genre, so I'm posting at least one spicy fic every Saturday (if I can help it)! This came to me in a vision (called the five minutes before my math class)- After my last smut fic did well (An Important Lesson, Prof!Wanda x Reader, which you can read here), I thought I’d do some WandaNat practice! Not proofread, written in the span of an evening. This is a crime against intimacy coordinators, I’m so sorry. Asides over. Natasha wears a strap to her films and she can dick me down with it, please and thank you!

Word Count: 2.4k - Read Length: 8 minutes, 49 seconds.

~~~

It was never fun when the producers came by.

They’d always arrive in droves of two or three, never the top dog- as if Natasha’s ‘avant-garde chick flick’, as they called it, wasn’t worth their time. They certainly treated it as much. Today was the worst day for them to arrive, in pressed jackets and always on a phone call, because today you were filming the sex scene. It was more of a ‘romance’ scene, with alluring cinematography and enough passion to make your eyes fall out, yet you hadn’t even gotten to remove any clothes from your beautiful costar- Wanda. You knew she was incredible, her previous films as a fem fatale showing her dominant streak, however the spark couldn’t burn when interruptions from the suits kept happening. You weren’t on a porn set, and yet sometimes you wish you were. Might’ve been faster, or at least more fun.

“From the top,” A groveled voice muttered, Natasha’s steely gaze breaking into your skull- though a part of you wished she’d break your back. The redhead had always been an inspiration, one of the leading reasons for your participation in her project, besides her being so fine. But now, she looked pissed, worn down by hours of appeasing the producer’s half-baked suggestions and guarding you and Wanda from their prying eyes. “Yes Ma’am,” you replied, earning a slight chuckle from your director, the twinkle in her eye not lost on you- she was on her last legs, but it was yours and Wanda’s compliance that kept her going.

You’d return to your blocking, centered in the middle of your ‘apartment bedroom’, with Wanda’s hand placed gently on your waist. Your roles were lovers, reuniting after a long day of hardship, slowing down after it all. You’d stare up at her, the mild exasperation in your expression making her smile. She’d send a wink down to you, muttering something about being ‘bored too’, but ‘not hating kissing you again’, or the like. She’d invited you out to coffee tonight, and especially after a day like this, you’d take it. Perhaps you’d even forget the paparazzi and really kiss her as you’d been wanting to do this whole shoot. Throw a bone to the fanfiction writers and make their canon comply with reality. Maybe. It was Natasha’s words which startled you from your thoughts, a look of tenderness overcoming your face as you’d sink into your character, “Action!”

Within an instant, Wanda hiked her hands under the hem of your shirt, eyes darting down to your face. Her palms were warm against you, smooth against your soft skin, as your head rested gently on her shoulder. She’d tug at the fabric- and you’d send her a quick nod, smiling as you’d lean up to capture her lips in yours-

“Well that’s not very marketable!” A producer would crow, scoffing with both his hands outstretched towards the two of you. You’d freeze, feeling all of the passion drain out from the scene, no more than a shell of itself. His bald head wasn’t very marketable, looking like a morally dubious Mr. Clean- and yet you didn’t comment on it. He’d look at Natasha, the woman pinching the bridge of her nose with a stern sigh, and you gulped. Oh, shit. She was going to lose it. “Can’t you get their clothes off faster? Our focus groups won’t wait around for-”

“Fucking Christ, get- out!” Natasha shouted, a growl in her tone bringing heat to your face. She scowled, roaring to the surrounding suits, “Leave, get off my set- it’s my fucking turn to direct them.” Her hands would fan away their deer-in-headlights looks, ushering them out before locking the door. Her fiery gaze would bore into you then, jaw locked as her heels would click towards you and Wanda, many feet apart.

The two shared a knowing nod- And before you could speak, your director grabbed Wanda by her shirt collar and pulled her into a bruising kiss. Your jaw would drop as the brunette’s eyes widened, fluttering shut as Wanda moaned into the embrace- Natasha’s hands planted firmly on her tits. She’d squeeze them, earning a gasp from Wanda, your costar’s head swung back as Natasha swiped her thumbs across her nipples. Your director’s gaze would strike yours, and you understood why Wanda’s submission was so quick. You shuddered at the redhead’s gleaming smirk, her voice a husked whisper, “Get those clothes off and get on the bed for me, baby. Now.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Your reply was instant, Natasha’s grin only widening as you’d shed your layers, kneeling on the mattress’s soft sheets. They were cold, goosebumps settling up your spine yet you wouldn’t move, eyes trained obediently on Natasha. You were so perfect for her.

Natasha’s mouth would return to Wanda’s, pressing her into the faux wall that had outlined the bedroom. Her hand would splay against Wanda’s stomach, and you saw how she hiked up the shirt there, continuing to palm her tits while unclasping Wanda’s bra with the other. She’d pepper kisses across the brunette’s neck, sucking hickeys the lower she’d go.

They’d part only so Wanda’s top could come completely off, your director keeping a claiming touch on Wanda’s hip as she’d look back at you over her shoulder. Her hair was wild, mused from Wanda’s hands slung loosely around her shoulders while her expression remained flushed, dark eyes darting down to the slick that pooled between your legs. Wanda’s voice would ring to you, almost reverent as her hips would stutter against Natasha’s, “She’s fucking drooling for us, Tasha..”

The redhead would bite back a smirk as she’d watch you twitch. You ached to touch them, yourself, anything- your hands already balled into fists on your thighs, legs rubbing together, desperate for friction. But neither had given the command, and you had an inkling from their hungry looks that they wanted you needy, right where they had you. Natasha’s rasp came second, “Then show her what I taught you.”

Wanda would reach you first, discarding the rest of her clothes in the process. Her hands trailed warm touches up your legs and to your chest, digging into your soft flesh as her lips would meet yours. It was explosive, sweet and tender yet with a ferocity that claimed you quickly, heating up your skin as her knee would slot between your thighs. You’d feel Natasha’s calloused fingers on the small of your back, the sinking of her weight in the mattress behind you, and her tone husked in your ear, “Stretch her out for me, Wan- like we practiced.” Your director’s words sent a buzz to your core, cunt grinding mercilessly into the sheets below as Wanda’s hand would trail there, dragging two fingers along your folds before arcing dazzling circles around your clit.

You’d eagerly press your hips into her touch, moaning lowly as she’d chuckle, “So wet for me, sweetheart…bet I can just slip right in.” She’d coax her fingers inside, your pussy walls taking her gladly as Wanda curled her digits against that spongy spot. Your back would arch, head growing fuzzy as you’d feel your slick drip down her hand. Her thumb would press into your clit as you’d buck your hips against her, cursing a quick “Fuck-” which was quickly swallowed up by Wanda’s mouth. She’d bite your lip, dragging it with her teeth as she’d settle into her rhythm, spare hand palming your tits with a rougher grasp, “Been waiting for this, haven’t you sweetheart- pretty whore, just for us.”

“Mhm, good girl just wants to be fucked, don’t you?” Natasha would grit, and you could see her stroking something behind your back. She’d unzipped her slacks- her strap heavy in her hand, glistening with the spit she’d gathered in her palm. Natasha bucked her hips against her hold, cursing as the cock’s base would rub against her clit. She looked incredible, sweat across her brow as her hand would clench around the toy, like she could feel it. “Keep going, Wands- want her perfect for my dick.”

Natasha would pant, breathing ragged as her hand moved in time with Wanda’s fingers- curling into you almost torturously, feeling your cunt clench around her. The brunette’s kiss would claim you again, moaning into her warmth as her thumb would circle your clit. She’d sigh almost lovingly, fondness overtaking her expression as your head found the crook of her neck, “She’s already perfect, Tasha-” She’d coo, although her hand wouldn’t stop, gasping at the squelching sound of her fingers up your cunt, “This pussy was made for us, darling.”

Their words and touch brought you so close, yet Wanda’s hands slowed down when she felt your legs quiver or your breathing seize up, never giving you what you needed. You’d squirm against Wanda, begging for more, a lingering touch, anything- “Please, Wan- I‘m so close,” You whined, earning a tut from your costar. She’d devour your pleas, lost to time as her mouth would reach yours, softer than before. You felt her sympathetic smile against you as she’d shake her head, locking eyes with Natasha’s heavy stare, “Not yet, sweetheart..It’s not my turn anymore.”

The redhead groaned when Wanda slid her fingers out of you, her fingers shimmering with your arousal. Your walls fluttered around nothing, aching for anyone’s touch as you felt Natasha’s rugged grasp on your hips, pulling you up and back so your pelvis was against hers. The strap had warmed in her hand, dragging between your legs. You were dripping for her, soft sparks of pleasure seizing you as her tip would brush against your clit. Her voice would thunder through you, almost delirious with her own need, “Fucking finally..want this pussy all to myself…”

Wanda would chuckle at that, your director kneading at your hips as Wanda’s thighs settled in front of your mouth, your arms propping yourself just above her soaked cunt. “We promised to share, Tasha..” She’d croon, face flushed and touch softer than Natasha’s as she’d cradle your face in her palms, “Such a pretty girl..are you ready for your reward, darling?” You nodded, a flurry of sensation hitting you all at once- Natasha’s strap sinking into you as the redhead would push your shoulder blades down, pressing your face between Wanda’s legs.

The stretch was incredible, the woman behind you vicious as she’d drive her dick into you, bottoming out as your mouth would be smothered against Wanda’s cunt. Each thrust would drive Wanda crazy, your gasps and whimpers vibrating right into her core, especially as you’d flat your tongue against her clit, suckling on the sensitive nub. Her thighs would threaten to shut on you, her stretched words lost in your pussydrunk haze, “Yes, like that sweetheart- such a good girl..-” Natasha would rock her hips into yours, pace bruising as she’d pull your thighs flush to hers. You’d hear her muffled curses as she’d bottom out again, sighing as if she could feel you clench around her. “Baby..fuck, so perfect for us…” Wanda’s hands would thread into your hair, anchoring her hold on you as she’d press your face further into her cunt.

The sight would echo a curse from Natasha’s mouth, her hips growing a little more erratic, “Fucking christ, she’s our perfect little whore, aren’t you baby-” You’d try to nod, moaning as Natasha’s hand would press further into your back, keeping you from moving an inch, “Don’t even think, baby- just fucking take it, fuck-”

Time would seem to slow, your brain fuzzing into blissful static as you’d feel Wanda’s thighs tremor around your head, her grip tightening as she’d see your body tremble in Natasha’s touch. “Come with me, sweetheart- be a good girl and come for Mommy.” Her saccharine words spurred you into a blinding release, your tongue working Wanda through her orgasm as your body quaked with your own. You’d feel Natasha follow shortly thereafter, cursing aloud as she’d pull herself out of you, watching as you’d clench around nothing. Her hands would immediately find your waist, bringing you gently up to kneel with your back against her clothed front.

Panting, your arms would shake as you’d catch your breath, leaning up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. You could feel both women’s eyes on you as you’d suckle on your fingers, cleaning up with an exaggerated moan, looking towards Wanda as you’d pop your hand out of your mouth, your words almost dreamy, “Mmm, so good, Wan..” You’d giggle as Wanda’s face would alight in blush, although the clink of metal and fabric drove you away from your teasing.

Natasha’s hands would be rushed as she’d pull her pants and harness down, eyes heavy with a lust that made you shudder, “Switch with me, Wands-” She’d grit, thrusting the strap in her general direction before settling calloused palms on your still quivering thighs, her gaze boring into yours, “It’s my turn for her mouth.”

Wanda’s smirk was immediate, sending you another sly wink, “Gladly.”

------------------------------------------

Unbeknownst to the three of you, the cameras had never stopped rolling. That film would never be seen by the public, kept hidden once you left the building. Not to say it couldn't be enjoyed by you three, though.

Natasha and Wanda took you out to coffee afterwards as the brunette had promised. They explained their prior agreement to ‘test the waters’ with you, Wanda working with Natasha on a plan to woo you both in and out of character. The date went well, although with much less lingering glances and more almost-fucking in the back of Wanda’s car afterwards. It was there that the public and paparazzi learned of your relationship, although their camera flash thankfully stopped any romance before it got good. You weren’t on a porn set, after all- and Wanda kept your half-nude form hidden while Natasha cursed out the press. All in a day’s work.

Unfortunately, the day’s work began anew the next day. Filming the romance scene was no difficult measure now, but Natasha’s grin and Wanda’s wandering hands blurred the lines of professionalism. The film crew couldn’t care less, a few of them- such as Kate, a script supervisor- mentioned how they knew it would happen eventually (and won a bet with Peter, who said it’d take until the award show for you three to get together).

However, once you three escaped into Natasha’s office for some ‘paperwork’ as she’d called it, it didn’t matter. They were yours, and that was enough. ~~~

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gaybookpromotions · 1 year

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The Grocers’ Son by Garrick Jones

BOOK BLAST Book Title: The Grocers’ Son Author: Garrick Jones Publisher: MoshPit Publishing Cover Artist: Garrick Jones Release Date: September 21, 2022 Genres: Crime Fiction; Detective; Thriller Tropes: Lost lovers reunited Themes: The strength of relationships over time; What one will do for love Heat Rating: 2 flames Length: 138 629 words/ 422 pages (paperback) It is a…

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#detective #LGBT crime fiction #Lost lovers reunited #thriller

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chrollohearttags · 5 months

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“silly boy, come find me when you’re older!” • a. artlert

synopsis: two lovers realize their relationship isn’t meant to be but that doesn’t mean they have to part ways forever..

content + themes: fem!reader (black coded), age gap (2-3 years, armin is 19, reader is 21-22) college au-ish (armin is going to nursing school + reader is a business grad), star-crossed lovers trope, angst + comfort, missionary, riding, hand holding, heavy kissing, crying (not dacryphila), accidental creampie, pet names (baby, mama, baby boy, angel), drug mentions, he gets possessive for like .2 seconds.

word count: 3.1K

📝: I have been so in love with fluff and the idea of soft smut lately (maybe it’s the holidays, maybe it’s my hormones..who knows!) but this is a part of a new au I’m starting! A new story that’ll be coming out soon and I can’t wait. For now, enjoy one of several side fics to accompany it! Also, please tell me y’all know this title reference 😭

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰───────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰────

“I really wish you wouldn’t look at me like that…”

the phrase seemed to have alluded him yet again..slipping through one ear and out the next. Almost as if only his body was present and his mind and spirit were elsewhere. It was to be expected though..

“..armie..? Aren’t you going to say something, baby? Anything?..”

you had just confided in him quite possibly the worst thing ever. In truth, his heart was breaking and there wasn’t a single thing that either of you could do to mend it. Although, you felt solely responsible..that the reason for his pain was entirely your fault. But it was a necessary confession nonetheless. One that you truly believed would benefit you both. Distance. Distance between the two of you so that he could properly pursue his education. A long sought after dream of becoming a nurse. Following directly in his mother’s footsteps and making her proud..it was all Armin ever wanted. As it stood, that was a mere concept and it was thanks to the girl lying next to him. His sweet, beloved (y/n). The (y/n) he reunited with at a house party one night and had been wildly entangled with ever since. Hooking up, drinking and smoking…what most peers your age was doing but you also had bigger aspirations for both Armin and yourself. He wanted to become a registered nurse, working with children and you were already two years deep into your collegiate journey as a business major. Laser focused and ambitious..ready to conquer your goals. You couldn’t waste your lives away in the back of his car, hotboxing and having sex. As fun as this little whirlwind romance was, you had to cut things off. At least for the foreseeable future..for both of your sakes. It wasn’t an easy decision in the slightest and you were far more torn up by the situation than what you were letting on but it had to be done. Regardless of your emotions..

“..I just don’t understand..I mean, is there someone else? Why don’t you want me anymore?…”

there it was..underneath all of those newly etched tattoos, shaggy blonde locks and suave charm lied that sweet, gentle boy. The same nerdy kid you’d first encountered whilst attending the same high school. Although two years apart, you found him to be adorable and couldn’t help but to grace the awkward brainiac with a smile every morning on his visits to the library. A beautiful goddess like you even acknowledging him? He was grateful for that alone! But it wasn’t until his senior year did the two of you reconnect. By that time, he had shed his thick, wire framed glasses for icy blue contacts to match his own..grew out his blonde bowl cut to a curly shag and had even acquired a couple of art pieces on his arm. Not to mention, gained some muscle from playing basketball. Some say you were the catalyst for his sudden change. Although this appearance was new, deep down, he was still that wide eyed genius with unbelievable intelligence. And best believe, your kindness wasn’t lost on him. So it came as no surprise, when you happened to cross paths with him at a graduation party that your younger sister, who happened to be in the same class with him, was attending..he found the courage to finally talk to you face to face. All of his newfound confidence flew out of the window when he saw you..that ethereal skin, deity like features and of course, that smile. That smile that made his heart flutter. “You haven’t changed a bit, baby boy…”

certainly his looks had, but you saw through all of that. You saw Armin for who he truly was and for that, he couldn’t allow you to slip away without confessing his true feelings. So that night, with liquor in his veins, he charmed you with sweet words and told you that he’d always had the biggest crush on you. It didn’t take long for you guys to get involved..days after that party, you began seeing one another. Both romantically and intimately. However, your relationship wasn’t exactly conventional or ideal..you were good for each other, perhaps a little too well. Because every moment that presented itself, you’d find yourself in every bed, couch, bathroom or backseat..going at it like rabid animals. The sex was insane and you couldn’t get enough of each other. It was only coupled by the sensation of the drugs coursing your veins..stimulants that sent your mind to places you didn’t need to be. Although there was never a single fight between you two, you knew the relationship wasn’t a healthy one. You encouraged each other’s worst habits. He had gotten a full ride scholarship to his dream school and you had obtained several as well for your ideal program. But you both stood to lose those if you didn’t make some changes. Ditching class to go smoke and then fucking him in every square inch of your off campus apartment. Sending him nudes and salacious messages during class, along with always being underneath each other. He’d never be able to focus and stay on track at this rate! Hence why you had to be the mature one and break things off. Even if it brought you to tears as well. So with a shaky palm, as you lay in bed next to one another, you’d bring a hand to his face and quell his doubts.

“You couldn’t possibly think that..you're the only one I want, Armin. I swear on everything..but..we can’t keep doing this. I love you so much but we’re no good for each other. At least not right now..”

but he’d attest, almost immediately. Insisting that he could buckle down and focus on his goals at hand. However, your mind was made up. That blind obsession and adoration for you would never allow him his room for growth. It wasn’t fair. Here you were only another year shy of receiving your degree and he was barely even started. You had to give him a fair shot, even if it meant removing yourself from the equation. You had even found an internship. He’d try to talk you out of it, convince you that he could juggle both college and you but regardless of how smart he was, nursing school was an entirely different beast in and of itself. It would require his full attention and dedication if he wanted to be an exceptional caregiver. No drugs, no distractions…no you. His studies deserved all of his time.

“So why can’t we make it work then? Isn’t that what couples do or was I nothing more than a joke?”

“Armin…”

in that moment, he’d tug away and roll over onto his side, giving you the proverbial cold shoulder and it stung like hell. The last thing you wanted to do was fight the man you loved. If anything, you wished things could stay like this forever. But you both had growing up to do and until that happened, it was best you parted ways.

“..I have an idea..”

But it wasn’t something that had to be permanent..for now though, there was no need to be upset with one another when you could spend your remaining time enjoying yourselves. Gently pulling him back towards you, you’d maneuver your legs until you were able to crawl on top of him. Those long acrylics scaled his freshly tattooed chest as you gently straddled his waist..at that moment, his little cheeks flushed red and you’d feel his breathing becoming slightly heavier. You’d lean down and begin peppering light kisses to his temple and all around his face..all while slowly rolling your hips against his crotch. With you, he was vulnerable..at his softest and would undoubtedly listen to whatever you said. “I’m all ears..”

that’s when you’d devise a plan that you believed that both of you could agree upon. An agreement of sorts.. “..two years..in two years, we can see each other again, just like this. We’ll work hard and reach our goals. You’ll be in your senior year, doing clinicals and I’ll be at my new job. We can find a place and finally start our lives together. Armin, I love you so much and I don’t want to see you throw your life away. Please..promise me you’ll find your way back to me when you’re ready. When we’re both in a better place..” once he spotted your tearful plea and heard the tone in your voice, he knew what had to be done. Personal feelings aside..you were absolutely right. He knew if he stood any chance of keeping you in his life, he had to blossom into a grown man that you could be proud of. One that was worthy of being called yours. Reaching up, Armin would grasp your hand and bring it to his lips for a gentle kiss, holding it close. He wanted to remember that feeling..savor it and savor you as well. God, he didn’t want you to leave, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye!..but this was the only way. The only way he could ensure that he got to have you in the long run. He wanted you two to grow old together so he’d make this temporary sacrifice to be able to share an eternity with you.

“..you have my word, angel. I promise..I promise I’ll come back to you a better man than what I’ve been..”

“Then take me…right here.”

just then, you’d feel his hand snake up your spine and tug you down towards his chest..not another word was exchanged. Just slow, tender pecks and breathy moans..immersed in the covers and in one another, you’d allow the moment to take you both. Your palms cupping his cheek and his gripping your ass, you’d tousle around underneath the sheets. It didn’t take long for the endearing moment to become rather heated but it was a true testament of the passion between you two. In a moment of haste, his nails would gently dig into the curvature of your back as you leaned up. In a matter of minutes, you’d feel his once flaccid erect growing harder underneath you. The sensation of your dripping heat making direct contact with him..and it was driving him crazy! He needed you so badly right now and you were just the same.

“Armieeee..”

calling out with a high pitched whimper as you ground yourself against him. You couldn’t stop either..almost as if you’d simply combust if you were to be pulled away from him right now. Frail cries would escape his lips as well but he’d find a semblance of control to satisfy your desires, which took precedence over everything else.

“Yes, baby? Tell me what you need..”

cooing to you in that sweet, loving tone that always managed to turn you to meet putty in his hands every time. You were still hopelessly rutting yourself against him; arousal overflowing from between your thighs that quickly. He knew what you wanted but he needed to hear you say the fateful words..give him instruction and guidance the way you had always done. “Hey, look at me, mama..” gently snatching your head forward and forcing eye contact as your chest heaved. “N-need you. Need you so bad, baby..please. Make love to me..” and with that whiny declaration, he’d make haste in fulfilling your wish. With a cocked smile, Armin would reign you in tighter, reaching for you. “Then here..take my hands, angel..” on his command, your hands would join in a gentle clasp, combining as one as you adjusted your lower half to align with his. He’d buck his hips upward and you’d lower yourself down as your bodies became one… meeting in an instant. “Fuck…” the word escaping your mouths simultaneously along with gentle moans. That seemed to be the theme for the night. A stark comparison to the wild nights you shared together previously. Perhaps.. it was the realization that this was really the last time you’d get to do this for a while. That he wouldn’t be able to feel the comfort of your body, to smell your intoxicating scent..to clash with your plump lips..to taste the sticky gloss that coated them. To stare into those gorgeous brown eyes. So as he lie underneath you, being rode to kingdom come as your tightness constricted around him once more, Armin would close his eyes and absorb every memory, every fiber of you..ensuring that he’d never forget his first and true love.

“There you go, baby. Right there..ride me—fuck!”

and he couldn’t possibly forget how you made him feel. How you set him ablaze with your overwhelming passion..still bound hand in hand, heart to heart, you’d keep going. Throwing your head to the wind and calling out your lover’s name, lifting it to the heavens as you bounced up and down. Taking him to your hilt; allowing that swollen tip to prod your most sensitive area. “Armin, baby! Yes..oh my gosh, you feel so good.” For the first time, you didn’t just fuck him. His flesh was more than a mere vessel of pleasure..it was your soul becoming one with his own. You were experiencing true pleasure in its purest form..and neither of you wanted it to end. Finally opening his eyes, he’d be greeted by the ethereal view of your breasts swaying and your beautiful face throwed in ecstasy filled bliss. “Aw, baby..you’re so beautiful. My favorite view in the entire world.” Smiling as tears streamed generously down your cheeks. “Oh my God—I love you, Armin! I love you so much.” Confessing with all that you could muster. And that warm, gushing sensation derived from your sex wasn’t lost on Armin either. He’d find himself in a fit of heaving as your walls closed in around his cock. Squeezing him as if to never let go. “Ahh!-shit..I love you too, baby!—“

in that moment, he could no longer hold back his urges. His need to claim full dominion over you..hastily, he’d bring you to a cease before maneuvering and flipping you over onto your back. It was then that he’d mount you. Diving between your legs as he held each in place. He didn’t even take a moment to adjust. It was mere seconds before you’d find yourself filled with him yet again and he’d begin his descent into your mix. Sloshing and drumming up slick as your thighs collided in a fiery haze. The bed..the one that you’d messed around in so many times before served as the place of consummation for your devotion tonight..ricocheting and colliding with the wall as thunderous slams erupted. Your limbs entangled as your legs found home around his waist and your arms on his back. His entire frame lay bare and pressed to your own as those hips crashed into you. It felt unreal..so unbelievably unreal. But this was the present..your reality for the time being so you’d savor every last moment you got together. Drilling further into your body, his pace sped to a barrage of more steady, consistent strokes. Ones that he would accompany with sloppy tongue kisses. Filling your mouth with them as he pounded you gently. You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. Regardless of how many times you slept together, something about this moment was starkly different. “Look at me, (y/n)!…” once again, snatching your head forward to meet his gaze. “You’re mine..you’re mine and I don’t give a damn where you go. I belong to you, you hear me? Don’t forget that..” those tears that had been brimming in his eyes finally fell and you’d affirm his sentiment with a fierce nod of your head, assuring him that no amount of distance or time could ever dissipate the love you shared for one another. “Yes baby! And I’m all yours, forever. I won’t ever leave you.” Sealing your promises with one final act..

“Yeah? You mean that?” “Every word, baby. I want you to always be with me..” Vocalizing back and forth as he continually thrashed around inside of your pussy until he sensed the urge that you were close. Upholding one another’s heads in a passionate fury, you’d exchange breathy words amid your love making. Telling him you’re near your peak and him telling you to let go. “Come for me, baby. You can come all over—“ but alas, before he could grant you permission, it would seem that he’d reach his climax first; glaring with a wide eyed expression as his seed filled you to the brim..something he’d never done before! Cursing himself and apologizing as he shook violently, draining every drop of himself into you. Perhaps he took your words a bit too literal but it was far too late to turn back now and shortly after, you’d follow. Showering him with a splatter of sticky rain. Squeezing and dripping all down his shaft. You’d convulse and flail around the mattress until he was able to quell you with gentle kisses. “I’m right here, mama. Let it out, it’s okay..” but once you were back into consciousness, you still wouldn’t let go and you remained entangled like this minutes afterwards. Exchanging “I love you’s” and sweet nothings. Along with tears..shedding them not for what would be lost but the time you had together and the comfort in knowing that you’d reunite soon enough. This time as more than friends with benefits or even mere freshmen sweethearts. But as an entity, an item that could never be separated because your bond was forged on a stronger foundation than one made of pure lust. It was love that would drive you to be better versions of yourselves, to work hard and it was love..that would bring you right back to one another when the time was truly right!

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@citysweet @greenieweeniesworld @hoohoohope @c0pkiller @bey0nseh @violetxxvenom @dragonmaiden79 @fuck-your-chickenstrips-hoe @saiki-enthusiast

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