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toxicanonymity · 6 months

Text

leopard print.

4.5k, joel x f!reader; special guest in tags

SUMMARY: Depraved one shot based on this. Joel mistakes you for a sex worker, offers you a ride, Fs you, shares you and is mildly possessive about it.

WARNINGS: I8+ strangers, drugs, talk of sex work, unsafe public P in V, dubcon (drugs/alc, not noticeably intoxicated), cockwarming, degradation, pantygagging, creampies, car stuff, orgasm delay m, vaginal plugging, voyeurism, sharing. Unedited.

A/N: Night walks vibes, but different too. You'll see. New fantasy for myself 😫

"And if I was workin'?" You ask. He gives a low whistle. "Wouldn't know where to start," he murmurs. "But I can tell ya how it'd end." He looks at your skirt. . . "She'd be wrecked n' beggin' for more, baby." Your fingers absentmindedly graze your chest. . . He sticks the joint in his mouth and shamelessly adjusts himself with both hands, tucking it into his waistband.

You pull into the gas station on the back of your friend's motorcycle. "When I fuel up, I'm outta here," he warns you. Oh well. If you have to walk back to your friend's condo, it's only two blocks. He's grumpy – You and your girlfriends have been a hot mess at the pool all day playing floating beer pong and licking alcoholic whipped cream off each other. He didn't wanna take you with him in the first place. No helmet, no reasonable shoes, not even a shirt.

You swing your leg off the motorcycle and as you step down onto the ground with your red wedges, you adjust your cheap, stretchy leopard print miniskirt. It matches, or clashes, with your leopard print bikini. You leave your sunglasses on as you enter the gas station with a chime. You fish a damp $20 out of your bikini top and survey the snacks.

You feel someone lurking nearby, but ignore it until you hear a deep, smooth voice. "Nice rosettes."

"s’cuse me?"

You turn only slightly toward the man. Maybe homeless. Good looking like a washed up rockstar. He gestures toward your bikini top. "That's a nice set'a rosettes." You look down at your tits spilling out of your push-up bikini top, then you look back at his face. Handsome man, really. Salt and pepper beard. Full head of dark hair with a little gray. Sunkissed skin. His eyes are kind and glassy. His nose twitches. "Oh, that's what leopards call their spots. Rosettes."

You laugh uncomfortably.

“Yeah, the ones on your top, those are pretty good.” His eyes drift down your body. “Skirt doesn’t really have’em right. Still nice though.”

"Thanks." You politely nod and return to looking at the snacks, ignoring him in the corner of your eye.

He doesn’t leave. He only gets closer. He looks you up and down and steps into your personal space. He lowers his voice. "You, uh, workin'?"

No, you don't work there. Do you look like you work at the gas station? Your stomach turns as you realize what he means, and your face goes cold. You stare at him, and your eyes drift to a hole in his shirt right below the collar. "Am I WHAT?" You ask incredulously, but trying to be quiet. Your whole body feels hot at the implication. You're humiliated, but for some reason it makes you warm between the thighs, too.

His eyes go wide, and he puts his hands up in surrender. "Sorry," he mumbles, then adds, "A man can dream,” as he backs away.

Your heart races and flutters and you scold yourself for being flattered. You end up in line behind the guy. And the line takes forever, giving you plenty of time to fume and also wonder about him. It's nothing against sex work – Work is work. But you'd like to think you wouldn't be picking up a rough looking guy in a gas station. Your friend's motorcycle revs outside. You look out the window and he's there by the curb waiting for you. You could drop the snacks on the closest rack and get the heck out. But for some reason, you stay in line, and not because you’re that hungry.

Someone needs to scoot behind you and you're forced to step into the sleazy man's personal space. He smells far better than you would have imagined. Woodsy and fresh. Somehow that makes all the difference, like he's not a filthy vagrant after all. He just had the aesthetic. Which is kinda hot. Your friend on the motorcycle shakes his head, revs his engine again, then drives away.

"Asshole," you mutter.

The man in front of you (your aspiring john) glances back and again mutters, "sorry." He scratches the back of his neck and exposes a chain under his ratty t-shirt. He really does have a nice head of hair, and now you see there’s a joint behind his ear, too. Maybe he’s just a hippy.

"Not you," you mumble. Well, not only him. Both of them.

He turns to face you. "I know. Saw ya roll in." Great, so he thought that was your pimp. "Want a ride?"

"Nah, I’m close," you mutter without looking right at him, then mumble, “thanks.”

He wets his lips and stares at your chest for a moment before adding, "ya sure?" And now that you know this man smells good, wears a chain, and has a ride, you're throbbing. You cross your arms and bite your lip looking at his handsome nose while his kind eyes search yours in anticipation.

"Okay," you whisper.

"Hell yeah," he whispers back with half a smile, getting a little closer, like the two of you are plotting something.

"But I'm not workin'," you remind him.

"Heard ya the first time, gorgeous." He winks at you.

He tries to buy your food for you. When you don't let him, he nods with a smirk. He crosses his big arms, plastic bag that reads “thank you” hanging from one of them, and waits for you. Then he holds the door open on your way out.

He checks you out as you pass through the door frame. You take your sunglasses off and put them in the bag with your snacks.

"Name's Joel." When you don't tell him yours, there’s a new smirk in his voice when he says, "don't gotta tell me your real name, if ya got a street name or somethin'. . ."

"Jerk." You punch his arm and mostly suppress a laugh.

He smiles and brings a massive hand to his bicep to pretend like it hurts, and for the first time it hits you how muscular he is.

"Truck's around back." He nods toward the back of the store. He walks slightly behind you. You feel his eyes boring a hole in your ass. Then you feel the warmth of his massive palm on the small of your back and he gets closer to you as he curves his hand around your side. "Too damn hot, baby. Had me thinkin' with my dick is all." Your face heats up and you glance at him. “I’ll carry that for ya.” He takes your bag.

He's parked around a corner out of view. Between some bushes and a closed library for some reason. His truck is nice, and it's big. Tinted windows. The back window of the cab says Miller Brothers. It's sunset, so you're grateful for the ride, lest any other low lifes make the same mistake on your walk back. When y'all get to his truck, he lets his hand slide down your hip. He opens the driver’s seat and puts the bags inside. Then he leans against his truck and adjusts himself. He's wearing pinstripe lounge pants. "Can't really blame me, can ya?" He raises his eyebrows. He scans you top to bottom again. "God damn, baby."

You laugh and look down shyly, unsure whether to thank him. His eyes don't leave your body at all. "To be fair, I thought you were homeless," you admit.

He exhales a laugh and shrugs. "Where ya headed?"

"Back to my friend’s pool."

"Hungry?"

"Nah."

"Smoke?" So that’s why you’re still outside the truck. You shouldn't, but you hesitate curiously.

You lean against the bed of his truck with your elbow resting on its edge, facing him.

"Fuck you're sexy," he mutters to himself. "Helluva rack but I'm an ass man, c'mere."

He turns toward you so he's leaning with his left side on the driver's side of the truck. He puts his right hand on your hip, rotating you so you're facing the truck. "Mmmmm." He puts his hand on the small of your back again, then slides it down–slowly, experimentally, cautiously enough for you to stop him. You don't. You're throbbing. He grabs your ass–his palm is huge. You glance at him and watch his eyes study the curve of your body. Deep down in your body, you know you're gonna fuck him. You both know it. With his left hand he retrieves the joint from behind his ear and puts it in his mouth unlit.

He sucks in a breath around the joint and lifts the flesh of your closest ass cheek. When he lets it drop, a growl escapes his chest.

He fishes a lighter out of his soft pants pocket and lights up. and as he inhales, once again he can't keep his eyes off your body. He takes the joint out of his mouth and turns your face toward his. You rotate toward him and he gets close, your bodies almost touching. He looks to your eyes for permission and begins to slowly exhale downward, so it's yours if you want it. You bring your mouth closer to his and he angles the smoke more toward your mouth as you suck it up. The moment seems to last forever and your lower belly is on fire.

The sunset washes everything in a pink hue. When his lungs are empty, he murmurs "good girl" and rests his hand on your hip, lightly running his palm over your stretchy little miniskirt, feeling the bump toward the top hem where your bikini tie is. He peels the top of your stretchy skirt down to expose the knot and pulls at the string. You let him untie it. The parking lot is empty and wet from an earlier rain.

"Fuck you're hot," he mutters with the strings of your bikini hanging over the miniskirt on that side. He takes another puff and passes you the joint. You take only a small inhale. "C'mere," he murmurs and his hand on your waist nudges your side off the truck and pulls you closer to him. He unties that side of your bottoms the same way.

"And if I was workin'?" You ask.

He gives a low whistle. "Wouldn't know where to start," he murmurs. "But I can tell ya how it'd end." He looks at your skirt.

You ask, "How's that?"

He doesn't take his eyes off your skirt. "She'd be wrecked n' beggin' for more, baby." Your fingers absentmindedly graze your chest, feeling where your tits spill over the cups. "Careful sugar," he chuckles. "Start me up, I won't ever stop." He sticks the joint in his mouth and shamelessly adjusts himself with both hands so his cock is upright and held in his waistband. He offers the joint again and you decline. He pinches it out and puts it back behind his ear. "Damn," he mutters, still checking you out. He rubs his hand over his cock through his soft pants. "But ya *ain’t* workin'. . . so ya got nothin' to worry 'bout," he adds with a twinkle in his eye. "''Less ya want it . . ." God, you do. You want it.

"Wrecked, huh?" You challenge him.

He sighs and his big hand on your hot skin rotates you back toward the truck. You hang your elbows over the side of the truck bed. He slinks behind you, then lets the heft of his cock against your ass crack. You gasp at how nice and hard it is. It moves against you and he sucks in a breath through his teeth then lets out a, "Mmm" as he exhales. He rolls his hips against you and uses both hands on your hips to pull your ass back into him so you're off the truck.

He holds you with one arm around your waist and his other hand slides between your legs from the front, up your skirt. "Bad girl, ain't ya?" His hand skims up your inner thigh to the crotch of your swimsuit, hanging loosely now that it's untied on both sides. "Yeah, ya are,” he answers for you. He slides two thick fingers through your folds and you sigh, tilting your head back. "Spread your legs for a stranger?." His voice is deep and gruff and makes you throb. “S’okay, not just any stranger.” His other hand grabs a tit while he runs his fingers through your dripping folds, then begins to circle your clit with his drenched digits. "Oh she's beggin' for it, baby," he murmurs.

He lets your weight against the truck again so his forearm is between you and the metal with his hand still between your legs. His cock presses against your ass at a slow rhythm, making your insides swell with need for him as he fingers your clit. You squirm and your hips rock into his hand. You whimper and he brings his mouth to your ear. "Five hundred," he whispers.

You gasp and he adds, "Not you. . .I'm workin' now, baby" as he speeds up on your clit. "I'm a penthouse boy, but that's your back alley discount."

"Fuck you," you laugh.

"First one's free if i cum inside," he murmurs into your neck. Then he grabs the crotch of your swimsuit and yanks it down, pulling it off entirely. He pins you to the truck with his cock against your ass. He shoves the swimsuit in your mouth and ties the strings behind your head. You taste the chlorine and your own arousal. You turn your head to look behind you and he reassures you no one can see.

His hand returns between your legs and he slips one, then two thick, wet fingers into you. Your cunt squelches obscenely around his digits. "Hell yeah, hear her beggin' for me?". He frees his cock from his pants and keeps fingering you. Then he slides his fingers out and your walls twitch at the loss. He wedges his cock under your skirt and it’s so big you have to spread your legs more. He runs the head through your folds and you’re gushing. As the head massages your clit, you moan into the swimsuit in your mouth. "Want the first one free, don't ya?" He taunts into your neck, dragging his lips along the delicate skin. "Want me to fill up this filthy hole?" You nod, desperate to feel him inside you. "First with this cock, then all the cum ya can hold," he murmurs and you nod. You tilt your hips and spread your legs. "Good," he breathes. "Good girl." He notches himself with the curve of his tip just inside. "Ready to swallow me whole, hot damn."

You push back on him and he says, "shit," and pushes into you. He slides right into you, spreading your cunt wide open with a groan into your neck. It's a delicious stretch and he fills you to the brim, bottoming out on the first go. "God damn, sugar." He retreats and slides his thick cock into you again, sheathing it entirely with your dripping cunt. You weren't even sure you could take this cock but it's perfect. "Fuck, you feel good," he pants and twitches inside you. If he comes early you're going to laugh but you pray he won't. He begins to roll his hips at a steady rhythm, and you moan into the swimsuit. He breathes heavily against your neck and bites and sucks you. You adjust your hips and push back on him to his rhythm.

"Take it like a pro," he pants, "an' you're tight, too. Damn." His right hand works your clit. His left hand comes to your throat, thumb on the left side of it, fingers on the right. Choke me, you think. Do it. But he doesn't. He licks and kisses at the left side of your throat, by his thumb. Then his fingers on the right of your neck tense for leverage and he plants his teeth on the left side of your neck. He sucks hard and moans into you as he sucks more, like he's thirsty for blood. Your neck aches under the grip of his mouth. He breathes through his nose, and when he finally breaks with a gasp, he fucks you harder, grunting and sighing.

You moan and he pulls your top down under your tits. A breeze and the rustling of branches nearby reminds you of the danger and you shiver. Your nipples harden under his forearm and palm and your cunt spasms. He groans behind your ear and you whimper and arch your back.

"Gonna come on this cock?"

You can only whimper again in response.

"Go 'head, baby," he breathes and reaches for your clit again, groping a breast with his other hand.

You bite down on the swimsuit and your body jerks into his as you come undone. "Oh yeah," he sighs. "Fuck yeah, ohhh baby." He thrusts into you harder and you moan as your cunt chokes his cock, and with another powerful thrust he bottoms out and begins to erupt with a long sigh, pulsing warmly inside you. Then he reaches for your face and pulls down the swimsuit gag. As you gasp for air, he turns your head toward him. He kisses you deeply with his cock still rutting deep and slow inside you, pulsing the last of his seed into your depths. He moans into your mouth. And when your lips disconnect, he looks at you softly. Your eyes lock for a few seconds, more intimately than you’d expect. Then you feel awkward, and look at the back of his truck–Miller Brothers. You say the first thing that comes to mind. "Joel Miller, huh?" You cringe at yourself.

He raises his eyebrows. "What, like the sound'a Miller?"

Your face goes hot and you make a joke to change the subject. "Your brother’a penthouse boy too?"

Joel's cock slides out of you and you feel empty. He starts to fix your swimsuit top and says, "Somethin' like that. . .I'll introduce ya," as he finishes straightening it. What are you, dating now?

You start to protest, "Oh, I dunno," then pivot to something more agreeable but noncommittal. “Sure, maybe sometime.”

—---

Joel walks you to the passenger side. What a gentleman. He opens the door for you. The seat isn't empty. There's a handsome man with longer, curly hair, a sexy smile, and his hands in his lap.

"Name’s Tommy," Joel says behind you. "My lil bro."

When Tommy lifts a hand to give you a little salute, you see his cock is out of his pj pants. "Howdy, sweetheart." He's not even shy about it. He raises his eyebrows and holds it at attention for you, thick and hard. Butterflies swarm in your stomach and you can't take your eyes off it. "Kept the seat warm for ya," Tommy beams.

"Go on, sugar," Joel nods to Tommy's lap. "’fore my cum leaks out everywhere."

Your heart races and your clit throbs. It feels like you're in a dream. This is so lewd and vile. But you just got pounded in a parking lot, and who's gonna know, and who cares. You wanna sit on that cock.

You look at Joel and he shrugs. "Don't gotta, but it's there." He leans in and gives you a kis, then murmurs "An’ she won't be leakin’ all over." He chuckles, then kisses you again. Damn, he’s a good kisser. When his head pulls back, you give him a devious, inquisitive look. and he says, "that's my girl." He helps you up and you scrunch up your skirt more. "She's hot as fuck, man," he tells his brother.

You're facing the windshield, and it's like Tommy’s just part of the seat. It's a large truck so there's enough clearance over your head. Tommy's large hands come to your thighs.

"I got her," Joel says and Tommy moves his right hand to hold his cock for you. You tilt your hips and Tommy notches himself at your hole, which is still pulsing with an occasional aftershock. Before too much of Joel's cum can trickle down Tommy's cock, they both pull you down on him and you're stuffed full once again.

"Good girl," Tommy whispers. Joel looks at you lustily and reaches his hand between your legs. He gives your clit a little rub, and you spasm on Tommy’s cock with an aftershock from Joel.

"Goddamn," Tommy mutters.

"Yeah," Joel whispers, then gives you another kiss. He shoots Tommy a serious look. "Don't fuckin' come inside her."

"I know, I know." Tommy hugs you back into his broad chest. "I’ain’t nothin' but a seat, honey. A seat and a plug." The crudeness makes you twitch.

Joel shuts the passenger door and goes back around to the driver's side. Tommy murmurs softly behind your ear. "Ya feel nice, though."

Joel buckles his seatbelt and starts the engine. Tommy rests his hands casually on your hips and his thick cock twitches inside you. He clears his throat.

"Tellin' ya, man," Joel warns.

"Nothin' to worry 'bout, brother," Tommy reassures him, playing it cool. "You used her up good."

Joel backs up the truck and asks, "Where to?"

You tell him the building. It's already in view in the distance as you approach the street to pull out from the parking lot. "There," you point to it. Joel opens his Takis and puts a few in his mouth. Your walls are hugging Tommy's cock as Joel eats his snack and drives. You bounce on Tommy's thick cock as Joel pulls onto the main street, immediately getting stuck at a red light. You moan, and Tommy stifles a grunt then whispers "shhhh," into your hair. It's not a long way. But you're stuck in traffic.

"What do you listen to?" Joel asks and turns on the radio. It's on the local classic rock station.

"That works," you mumble, laid back against Tommy's barrel chest with your eyes half closed. While Joel is focused on the road, Tommy wedges his hand under one of the push-up cups of your bikini.

Tommy sighs, then whispers into your right ear where Joel can’t see. "Sexy little thing ain't ya." His cock twitches. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying not to moan. He lightly pinches your nipple then fixes your suit again. God his cock feels good. You're almost to your friends condo, but you don't want it to be over.

"Can you, uh–can you take me to my place instead?" You ask

Joel looks at you and cocks an eyebrow. "Not back to the pool?" You shake your head sleepily. "Tuckered out, huh?” he chuckles. “That's okay baby. Where ya live?"

You tell him the apartment complex. It's a couple miles further. "Good girl," Tommy whispers, pleased to have you on his cock a little longer. As Joel drives, you feel Tommy subtly lifting his hips. The bumps in the road have you bouncing on him too. And with the slow traffic, wearing nothing but a bikini top and a miniskirt, you catch a few stares, even through the dark tinted windows. It turns you on more. It turns Joel on, too. He's hard again and rubbing himself over his pj's which are wrecked with drying drops of his cum, your juices, and a darker new spot of precum. Tommy’s cock is so thick, and it throbs, and occasionally twitches, and you can so freshly conjure the feeling of Joel pounding you too, whispering filth into your ear.

Your body’s building toward another climax, but you’re trying not to let it. Your cunt spasms, and Tommy's chest expands under your back with a deep inhale. "Shhh, it's okay," he murmurs. You’re almost there.

"Joel, i–" you reach over for him. He looks at your face and does a double take. "Shit," he peels into the closest corner. "It's okay, hold on for me sugar."

Tommy moans, trying so hard not to cum. "You better fuckin not,” Joel growls at Tommy. Joel takes off his seat belt as he parks and urgently takes his cock out. "C'mere baby," Joel reaches for you. Tommy groans and you feel a little pulse as he hoists you off his cock. Your cunt twitches, trying to hang onto Tommy, not wanting to let him go. Tommy erupts as his cock slides out of you and his cum paints your folds. He moans through it, cock in his hand, cum gurgling onto his fist, head tilted back, eyes closed.

Meanwhile Joel pulls you toward him and your cunt is beginning to flutter ever so slightly around nothing, but you’re staving off a full climax. You kneel on the empty seat between them and Joel urgently pulls you into straddling him. His cheeks are flushed and his face is serious. "yeah, I got ya baby." He wets his lips, then his mouth hangs open as his tip finds your hole and he pulls you down on his dick, even thicker than you remember. "Hell yeah," he whispers and you're packed full of cock again. "Uungghh yeah," Joel lifts his hips into you and you cum on his cock right away.

"Oh fuck," you gasp, "Joel–ugghgh," you moan unrestrained and tilt your head back. He catches it in his hand and brings your face to his. You clench around his cock and he fucks up into you slowly. Your lips break with moans from each of you as you cum on his cock and he moves you. He hugs you into him and latches onto the unmarked side of your neck. Then your clit is grinding into him as he keeps moving you on him while your climax wanes.

"So damn hot, baby. Really take it like a pro." His words make you spasm again, and Joel groans. He rocks you on his cock, biting his lip. You can tell from how quiet he is, he’s trying not to cum so fast. But he can’t help it and after a minute, he asks, "Ready for another load?" You nod, desperate to feel him pulse inside you. "Think ya can handle it?"

You nod and roll your hips into him. You could come again, too.

"Hell yeah, that's my bad girl–oh, fuck, fuck–ohhh.” He grunts from the back of his throat as his cock pulses enormously inside you, adding to his first load. As his moan wanes, his lips latch onto yours again. Your lips move together, and you begin to clench around his cock again, whimpering into his mouth with the pleasure. It seems to last forever. When your lips break, he reads your eye and mutters, "fuck, you're hot.”

He breathes heavily while his pulses continue but echo smaller and smaller, as with your aftershocks on him. He sits back against the seat for a moment catching his breath. "You're somethin' else," he whispers, then looks around outside. "What unit are you?"

You tell him your apartment number and point out the building. You stay impaled on his cock as he drives to that building. He nuzzles his nose and mouth into your neck. He parks the car, then spends another moment with you. He nibbles your neck, presses sweet kisses into your jaw, fixes your hair, then whispers, "Nice to meet ya, sugar."

Tommy gets out of the truck and walks around to the driver’s side, and opens Joel’s door. Joel kisses you goodbye, deeply, with tongue, and helps hoist you off his cock. Tommy helps you down out of the truck while Joel tucks his cock away. Tommy gives you a hug and kisses you on the cheek. Then they drive away and leave you wrecked and wanting more.

---------

thank you so much for reading and engaging! I really love and appreciate y'all.

For more Joel and Tommy, check out stuffing.

if you liked this joel... you'd like the night walks AU, If you like the sharing with a hint of dominance/possessiveness, I think walkintotheriveranddisappear has a gang bang where only Joel can cum inside. I have Tommy's hard day (established free use relationship with Joel)

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EDIT - alright I've gotten several messages this week saying notifs aren't working. I think they might be delayed for some people but idk what to do. I guess I'm temporarily bringing this back but idk if it's even the most recent list 🤡 please subscribe to notifs on toxicfics if you haven't already. If you haven't been getting notifs, you can see the most recent fics you missed on toxicfics.

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #toxicanonymity ☠️#tommy miller x reader #tommy miller smut #cw dubcon #tw dubcon #cw dub con #tw dub con #night walks!joel

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livingemkayde · 5 months

Text

between blurred lines

best friend's dad!/dad's best friend!joel miller x f!reader

(pre-outbreak)

↳ warnings: this is rated for 18+ only! minors, please do not interact. smut, unprotected pinv, fingering f! receiving, cockwarming (!?!?!?) uhh dom!joel, significant age gap, dad's best friend mixed with some best friends dad (?!!?!?!?). i think that's it, let me know if i forgot anything.

↳ a/n: I LOOK PRETTY GOOD FOR A DEAD BITCH (she's alive!). im back from my tumblr break bearing a gift! i missed you all like crazy. gonna spend finals week catching up (procrastinating) on all the reading ive missed out on for the last month. i hope you guys like this one.

AND a very special thanks to @joelsversion for beta reading this in it's very early rough, rough stages. my ride or die fr 🤞

↳ summary: joel miller has always been...there. never different, always sporting a brooding scowl etched into his handsome face. he's your best friend sarah miller's dad, arguably worse, your dad's long time buddy. things are never different. not until this summer. not until now.

↳ follow @livingemkaydenotifs if you would like to be notified about more fics like this. love ya'll big time

↳ if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist

“You shouldn’t be in here.” “No,” you agree breathlessly. “I shouldn’t.” He slots himself against you, his other hand grips your hip and pushes you back into him. You gasp softly. “Let it go.” You realize he’s talking about your dress. You squeeze your eyes shut. His lips skate against your neck in a way that makes you dip your head to the side in a silent surrender. “Let it go,” he repeats.

You grew up with Sarah Miller.

Soccer teams, high school football pep rallies, prom, homecoming, college acceptance season. Even though it turned into long distance facetime calls, and text chains nine messages long once college hit, Sarah Miller will forever and always be your best friend.

It’s good to be back in Texas. Both you and Sarah moved back into your childhood homes the second after graduation hit. It’s good to be back, good to see her, your parents, and…Joel.

You hadn’t seen him in a while. The last time you remember spending more than five minutes in his passing presence was when you and Sarah decided on that Chinese place for a post-high school graduation ceremony meal. He’s close with your dad. In an old school kind of way. In a lets raise our kids together kind of way and a the wives can go shopping together kind of way — before Sarah’s mom split, that is.

Joel Miller, always brooding, always gruff and quiet. He’s never different. Though, you can’t help but think things might be different now—

No. You almost have to remind yourself out loud. He’s not different. He never is. He’s Joel Miller and you’re — you’re just a kid. You’re as old as his kid.

Sarah, despite your hardened efforts, managed to drag you out of bed and into the shortest dress you own for a night at some club halfway across town.

“Sarah, are the shot glasses still in the top cabinet?”

You reach for the knob, barely getting onto the balls of your feet before slipping on the cold laminate tiles in the kitchen. Your open palm balls into a fist and makes the cabinets shutter. Sarah responds with something from her room equally as unintelligible as your question was to her. You can feel your dress starting to ride up a little in your efforts, but you rifle through the Miller’s cabinets like it’s your own home. In some ways it is.

“Hey, kid.”

You spin around, and quickly shuffle the hem of your dress back down. He nods his head in a lazy greeting.

“Hey.” You’re breathless for some reason. It’s not because of the shot glasses.

“Been a while,” Joel says, shuffling into the kitchen and setting a mug in the sink. He looks the same. Tousled hair and a beard just beginning to tinge gray. He’s always — always the same.

You clear your throat. “Yeah. Been a while.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“Good to have you back,” he mumbles, settling back against the kitchen counter. You can see his arms flex when his palms settle onto the countertop. He’s strong, so much bigger than you. You never really noticed the big broadness of him until now. You’re not used to guys like him. All the boys you ever really experienced were clean shaven, soft in a way that told you they’ve never hauled ass through a day’s work. A lifetime of work.

“Good to be back.” He clocks your outfit. You try to change the subject. “How are things?”

“Same ol’ same ol’.” He grabs a beer from the fridge. “Your dad’s gettin’ into golf. Tryna make me go out with him.”

You laugh. “Not your scene?”

“No, not quite.” He shakes his head, sipping on his beer with a smirk that almost makes your knees weak. “What’d you study again?”

You scoff playfully. “Like you remembered in the first place.”

“Play along.” He smirks.

A knot sticks to your stomach, just below your navel. His voice is sickly sweet. Syrupy and Texan. His voice is like medicine.

“Education. Just applied for jobs in the fall.”

“You teachin’?”

“That’s the plan,” you let out with a breathless kind of laugh.

“Smart girl.”

His head cocks, and tilts it to the side. Your breath catches in your throat, palms sweaty against the black fabric of your dress. “Hardly.”

He pauses, eyes you. It’s fleeting—you might think you dream it. You pick at the skin of your own thumb.

“Your dad know you’re goin’ out?”

You scoff. “I’m an adult. Don’t need my dad’s permission.”

“Don’t be a smart ass.”

You eye him, a smirk plays on his lips.

“I’m not—just…grown up, I guess.”

Something unreadable spreads across his face. “I guess.”

You hitch a tough breath.

“What’d you need?” He swigs at his beer.

“Oh.” You look back towards the cabinets, then. “Shot glasses.”

“Moved ‘em,” he nods and stalks forward, backing you against the counter. He’s got a dark swirl of something warming behind his gaze. You don’t try to scoot away. Even when he reaches up next to your head and you hear the clink of two shot glasses brush up against each other in his fingers.

“Don’t have too much fun,” he whispers while he pushes the glasses into your hands and leaves the kitchen.

You desperately, for your life, cannot keep up with Sarah Miller.

She drinks entirely too quickly, efficiently, and practiced for your poor alcohol tolerance to keep up with. She’s a machine, and after three shots in, you’re already wasted. It wasn’t even midnight when your vision started to pull in a sideways direction and everything seemed a little slow. You knew things were taking a turn for the worst when the blonde quaffed frat guy with a Texas A&M polo shirt started sounding a little too funny. He was glued to your hip the entire night, though you aren’t sure you even remember his name correctly. You have your bets set on Colter, but then again, after your second shot, everything started to sound a little fuzzy to your rosied ears.

And when Colter called you and Sarah an Uber at three a.m., you didn’t have the guts to ask him his name, only shooting him a half hearted thanks over your shoulder—your liquid courage having sobered up by the time the Uber rounded the corner to the Miller’s house.

Even though Sarah Miller can throw back shots like it’s her day job, she passed out onto her bed as quickly as you both left her childhood bedroom while running late for your driver to the club.

Before she promptly fell asleep, she mumbled something almost unintelligible into the pink sheets of her twin sized bed. But you could make it out enough to spring back from her words while your heart skipped a beat.

“Get a shirt from my dads room.”

So you knock, quietly, almost too quietly, and when you rap your knuckles against the wood of Joel Miller’s bedroom door a little harder, it pushes open slightly. The crack of it floods black, you can’t see inside, only the dim night sky illuminating the window sill and curtains in its wake.

When you push it open a little further, the door creaks so loud you push your eyebrows together with worry and freeze in your timely steps. But it’s empty. The bed isn’t entirely made, the covers a little rumpled and haphazard. You spot his dresser and make a quick beeline for it, itching to get out of your uncomfortable dress.

The drawer slides open with a shift of wood on wood and you snatch up the first black t-shirt you find sitting neatly on top of the pile. Subconsciously, you bring it to your nose—sunlight, and evergreens, and a little hint of musk that peaks through the laundry detergent. The worn, soft cotton of it makes you sigh deep into the dark bedroom. You close your eyes, ball your fist up around the collar and lean into the dresser with your palm fitting against the edge of wood. Just as you turn around and move to close the drawer in your exit, a voice pulls your eyes up from the darkness.

“What’re you doin’?”

You jump, almost instinctively bringing his shirt to your chest. A sinking, uneasy feeling settles right under your throat. It’s almost like you’ve been caught red handed—you most definitely were.

You don’t say anything. The light pouring in from the hallway surely illuminates you enough. Joel’s eyes trail down to your bare legs, then to his shirt you have clutched in your hands.

“That my shirt?” He points to your chest with a vague gesture of his hands. You look down at the material balled up in between your shaky fingers, then back to his eyes.

“I don’t—” You shake your head even though you know your efforts are fruitless. The least you can do is tell the truth.

“Sarah—she’s—she’s sleeping. Told me to get clothes in here.” You make a slight nod of your head towards his open dresser. He doesn’t say anything, but he takes a step towards you.

“Sorry, I can just—” You point towards the door behind him, and move to leave.

“‘S fine,” he mumbles in that deepened, soaked drawl. All honey, and velvet, wrapping you up into something warm and inviting. It tugs at something just beneath your belly.

When he gets closer, your breath punches out in a staggered rise and fall of your chest. Your fingers don’t move from clutching his shirt. When he nears, he slips a hand past you, brushing your waist, and shuts the drawer closed with a soft thunk.

Your breath catches in your throat, his eyes trail your figure.

“Fun night?”

You clear your throat, nod, slowly, still studying his darkened gaze. “Yeah.”

You clock how close he is when you put your weight on one hip and his jeans brush up against your bare thigh. His breath swirls on your eyelashes. He tugs on his shirt in your hands and lets out a hearty sigh. Shifting from one foot to the other, then again. It seems like you both stay like that for years.

Brown. His eyes are brown—maybe a little darker than they normally are. His eyes try not to roam, but that hint of something is gone before you can blink.

He backs away then, towards the door. Most likely seeing you out. He settles near the entrance and looks back at you. Your bare feet shuffle through the carpet. He nudges the door open with a rough palm on the doorknob, leaning against the frame as you approach.

You’re about to leave, but he catches your elbow, and you spin back to him in a desperate kind of way.

“You look pretty,” he whispers to your surprise. “Forgot t’mention it earlier.”

Pretty.

He thinks you’re pretty. You didn’t even think pretty was in his vocabulary.

You didn’t think he would notice.

You don’t say anything. Your eyebrows furrow with want. You study him, eye his brown stare and the way his chest rises and falls under the navy blue t-shirt he’s wearing. And you slowly—slowly push the door shut. You both watch it close. It clicks, the sound of it deafening to your ears.

He would never, ever make the first move. You’re smart enough to know that for certain, but—pretty. He thinks you’re pretty, and after all this time, it’s still always Joel.

So you turn your back to him, swipe your hair over one shoulder and turn your head to the side. You can hear him silently swear under his breath.

“You mind?” you say, gesturing to the zipper of your dress. His soft steps pads on the floor. You can almost feel his chest against your shoulder blades.

His fingers toy with the zipper, hot and rough but—hesitant. He pulls it down slowly anyways, exposing your back to the crisp air conditioned air, and the heat of his gaze. The straps fall as the zipper does, he curses again, succumbing to your decided fate.

You hold the front of your dress to your body on instinct, even though the only thing you want to do right now involves him ripping it off you.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t do anything else—doesn’t back away or come closer or leave. So you reach your hand backward to find him and gasp softly when his fingers tangle with yours. You pull his hand to your body. He locks onto your waist like a leech.

“What’re you doin’?” He rasps against the shell of your ear, almost like he’s pleading with you. He sounds like he’s in pain. Maybe he’s torn between pleasure and good judgment. You want him to forget about the latter entirely.

Your stomach drops, you glance to the side again.

“I thought—”

“You thought, what?”

Your face goes hot, stare at your feet instead. His hand doesn’t leave you.

“I don’t…”

“You thought this was a good idea?”

You don’t say anything. For some reason you didn’t think it was a bad idea. Not when his hand reaches around to grab your hip.

“What would your daddy think?”

“I don’t really care what he thinks.” An admission more than anything.

He sucks in a breath. A quiet contemplation. The look on his face doesn't read pissed, but it's a far cry from happy. You don't know what is behind his gaze.

“Nothin’ but trouble.” He breathes out in a heavy sigh. “Ain’t ya?”

His voice is so much deeper now. His accent shows through, silken and so southern it makes you grip your dress a little harder on instinct. You’ve lost count of how many times your breath has gotten caught up in the tightness of your throat.

“‘S one word for it.”

He almost growls, his hand skits down to the hem of your dress and pushes his fingers under it, trailing upward, but stopping before he meets lace.

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

“No,” you agree breathlessly. “I shouldn’t.”

He slots himself against you, his other hand grips your hip and pushes you back into him. You gasp softly.

“Let it go.” You realize he’s talking about your dress. You squeeze your eyes shut. His lips skate against your neck in a way that makes you dip your head to the side in a silent surrender.

“Let it go,” he repeats.

You drop the hand on your chest and his t-shirt with it. Your dress falls to the floor in a black blanket of smoke. You gasp when his hands are on you, inching slowly from the hem of your underwear to grasp your breast in a rough, teasing palm.

A small sound escapes past your lips. His other hand, quick to respond, slots over your mouth, silencing you and your whiny moans.

It’s — rough. The way he pushes his palm into your face to quiet your whimpering, forcing your head back to rest against his shoulder. The way he pushes your underwear down your thighs to rest with his forgotten t-shirt, and your all too tight, too short dress. It’s rough, but so, so gentle.

It feels like heaven.

You pitch your back, arching into him in a desperate way. Writhing against him when he finally pushes a calloused finger in between your dripping folds.

“Jesus.” He shakes his head. You can feel the scratch of his beard against your temple. You wonder what that scruff might feel like between your thighs. “Been wantin’ it all night, huh?”

It’s a question, but not one he needs an answer to. The mess between your thighs is evidence enough.

Joel. You try to plead, but he’s relentless in his quieting attempts. The pad of his finger brushes against your clit and you’re keening against him. You can feel him smile.

“Quiet,” he whispers into your ear, then lifts his hand from your mouth, hovering, waiting until the inevitable moan to escape past your lips. But you try your hardest, bite at the skin on the inside of your lip, and he rewards you. He’s a gentleman like that. He sinks his middle finger into your cunt, rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit with his thumb. Everything about him is just so, just right.

Maybe, usually, with other guys, you’d be disappointed if they’re stingy with the foreplay. But you walked throughout the bar all night with slick dripping through soaked lace just at his words in the kitchen. Smart girl. So you push back into him and beg him—

“Joel.” You’re breathless. You plead at him with your body, with everything you have. “Please,” you whisper simply.

Something like desperation and want and a little twinge of anxiety settles in your stomach when he releases you. He walks you back to the edge of the bed. It smells like him when you lay down and the softness of the blankets kiss the edges of your face. You can hear the clink of his belt buckle and you suck in a tiny breath.

“How do you want it, baby?”

You push him back, and his eyes go wide. It’s the first reaction you’ve gotten out of him the whole night. A peak behind his brooding mask. And when you settle each leg on either side of his hips, he groans. It makes you a little more brave.

“Like this,” you whisper, placing your hands on his chest. He grabs at your wrists, and pushes them under his wide palm to his stomach so you lean forward down to him. He pushes his boxers down and you try not to look, but you make a small sound at the sight.

“Look good—” he grunts. You take his tip and notch it at your entrance. “Always look so pretty.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Everything is different. Everything is new.

Pretty.

“Fuck,” you whisper, glancing down at just the sight of him. The size of him.

“You’re okay, angel.”

Your gaze snaps to his face. He nods. You believe him.

“I—ah—” you whimper. “I can take it.”

“I know you can,” he grunts when you sink down an inch and take the tip of him. Your hips cant at the feeling, taking more of him through groans and pressing whines. He lets you set the pace. Let's you take your time. Even when he’s panting through his gritted teeth and tight lips.

You sink down on him until there’s nothing left to take. It’s almost painful. But he’s right there, playing with the pearl of your clit, massaging your hips. He knows how much you can take and when you can take it. He seems to know alot about you while knowing very little.

“Shit,” you groan. “Oh my — god.”

You can hear him muttering something along the lines of perfect.

It feels that way—perfect. He fits inside you with a tight stretch but nothing compares to the feeling of his throbbing length resting inside you. You would die here with your wanton moans and you would wake to find nothing less.

“Joel,” you whine, clenching around him, the stretch starts to sweeten.

“That’s—fuck—yeah, good girl,” he whispers. He sounds like something sweet and dark and rough. You fist at his t-shirt. Just like the one left forgotten by the door. You don’t remember what you came in here for anymore. Not when you’re dangerously close from his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit.

“Fuck. Yeah?” He can feel it. From the inside. “Y’gonna come, baby?”

It’s embarrassing. That you could come like this, with him waiting patiently inside you. You don’t have it in you to lie, you don’t have it in you to bounce up and down or move at all. He turned your legs to jello.

“I-I don’t—”

“C’mon,” he grunts and grips your hips to keep him flush to your body. “Know ya want it.”

It only takes one swift rock of your hips. His hands, broad and sprawled out across the plushness of your sides. Your body stalls out on top of him. He sits up to wrap his arms around you and brings you close on instinct. If your brain wasn’t so hazy and you weren’t so lightheaded your heart might swell at the thought. You bite out something sounding somewhat like his name—it’s a garbled whisper and cut of words but you think he gets the gist.

“I—Ngh—fuck,” he whispers into the crown of your hair. You can feel him throbbing inside you. You chuckle something halfway coherent and let him flip you over, settled on your stomach with your face in the sheets. His fingers skip over your backside.

“Joel,” you breathe. “I—”

“Relax,” he says behind you, spreading your folds and staring at the way your cunt clenches around nothing. “Just relax, angel.”

So you do, you sink boneless into the mattress and let him press you down into the sheets. He feels so broad. He feels so good. You tell him quite as much, in not so many words. You feel the weight of him settle behind you, his hand coming up to brace himself by your head.

“God, you feel so fuckin’ good.” He sinks in, inch by inch. It’s not so much of a stretch anymore. Carving a place for himself inside you. It feels like he belongs there. You think to yourself that he probably does. You’re squirming beneath him, wringing your fists in dark blue sheets.

You clamp your eyes shut when he bottoms out. Even more so when he finds a pace he likes and sets it. You don’t have to beg him anymore. Your legs shake beneath his hips, even more so when he hikes your leg up on the bed so he can push deeper.

Something deep rolls through you again. It shocks you. Most of the guys you’ve been with haven’t made you come once, let alone twice.

“I can’t—” you whine. “I—fuck.”

He picks up the pace.

“Y’can,” he grunts. “Know y’can, c’mon, baby.”

You nuzzle your face in cotton. His hips chase his release and you know you’re close when he nudges against your g-spot.

“Don’t stop,” you whine. “Please don’t fucking stop, Joel, please, it—ah."

When you come, he grunts through ragged breaths. White hot pools in your stomach and you whine so loudly you’re worried about the neighbors. His hand comes to brace against the back of your neck. You’re so fucking soaked he slides through you easily.

“Jesus, fuck,” he growls. He bears down on you and your hips and sinks to his elbows when he can’t keep himself up anymore. You feel the cotton of his t-shirt brush against your back. It sends a shiver up your spine. He comes, pulling out and spilling over your back. You try to hide your disappointment.

He lays beside you for a minute, you barely reach your hand up from the bedsheets to brush against his bicep. He studies your face and pants through a slack jaw. He’s scruffy and broad and — perfect.

Your gaze flick to his mouth, then his eyes. You silently realize he never kissed you.

“Gonna get me killed,” he whispers. It’s almost weirdly affectionate in a way only Joel Miller could say. Still stuck in a limbo between pleasure and reality. You smile, softly.

He climbs off you, and slinks to the bathroom. You wait with baited breath until you hear the water run. He emerges with a soft looking towel, damp with water, clinging to his fingers. You watch him and shiver when the towel touches your back.

“Okay?” he whispers when you sit up and turn to look at him.

“Yeah, okay.”

It feels like something is supposed to happen now. You’re not used to this. Everything slowly comes back as the pleasure ebbs and you blink back to reality. You open your mouth, then close it. He does the same.

You can hear Sarah’s door open and you both freeze. His brown eyes search yours through a furrowed brow. Your heart goes back into normal rhythm when you hear the bathroom door shut. Then nothing.

He snags a new shirt from his dresser and tugs it over your body.

The Texans.

“Cute,” you gesture to the shirt. It’s soft underneath your fingers, worn. A gentle kind of faded navy blue. Joel picks up your dress off the floor and folds it into your chest while scoffing.

“Shut up,” He shakes his head, but he can’t hide the smirk on his face. “Get outta here.”

It’s all oddly playful. Like you both can’t believe it and are giddy at that fact.

“Same time next week?”

Something deeper flicks across his gaze at the doorway. “Is that a promise?”

“You can’t answer a question with another question.”

You turn when you leave the doorway and settle into the hallway. He’s got his hand on the doorframe, leaning into it—towering over you and already burning something hot through you. Again.

“I just did,” he grumbles with a smug look, and then shuts the door.

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tremendum · 4 months

Text

Setting the Mood ; Mr. Miller vii

[not my gif] pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, some use of she/her, use of the words girl/woman) rating: explicit. [18+. mdni] word count: 10k summary: ❝Joel's warming up to you in the way that feral cats warm up to a box with blankets in winter - cautiously, with a rigid spine and many false alarms.❞ warnings: power outage, one mention of cobwebs lol, smut - oral (f!receiving), nipple play, teasing, overstimulation, anal fingering (brief sorry), face sitting, pussy slapping!!!, tit slapping (once), begging, choking (light), fingering, rough sex, praise, dacryphilia, degradation, threats of using sex toys, Joel is less mean than normal, pussy drunk Joel!, squirting, brief mentions of guns/canon typical trauma and violence. also fairly fluffy. emotionally constipated joel and reader <3 notes: thank u all for ur patience & here's the next part! and Joel is a MUNCHHH in this one lol. special thanks to the anon who recently sent me such kind words about this series, as well as the other anon who gave me the inspiration & all the suggestions for this fic!!! this one's for u guys <3 [this is part seven of the Mr. Miller series.] [masterlist]

[important - this is the last fic that will be using my taglist. moving on, I've made a notifs blog - @tremendumnotifs - for ppl to follow for notifications. tysm!!] ★

"'s gettin' dark out there." Joel broods, eyebrow furrowed as he stares out the window into the dreary wink of evening, a dark gray clouding the sky as sheets of rain slam onto the pavement and pelt onto the gardens lining the block. "stormy."

you can't help but quirk your brow as you take in his worried form, the way he peels back the curtains like a wartime wife awaiting a letter or a figure appearing in the driveway. you have to fight back a laugh, instead putting on a straight face as you lean towards him, capturing his gaze.

"she's handled worse." is all you say, giving him a shrug - one that's met with a glare. "I know." he retorts, voice soured; a clench of a jaw before he turns back out, brooding, sighing, gritting his teeth. okay then.

you shift yourself, plopping heavily onto the couch - you're still not used to being in this house, even in its simple glory. Joel's boots, muddy by the door, Ellie's drawings littering the walls like little trophies Joel silently boasts about - none of them have frames, though you decide in a better world, they probably would. empty mugs of half-drank coffee on the counter next to the sink, a discarded hand knife on the dining table.

it's almost a complete mirror of your current house - with a tickling thrill, you'd realized this faintly the first time Joel'd thrown you onto the ground in his foyer months ago. he's since grown gentler with the way he handles you, at least, when he wants to.

even now - his tolerance, vastly expansive compared to months ago when a breath in his direction would cause a snarl within a second. now, he even initiates conversations - not often, but enough for you to feel like, at some point, things did change with him. Joel's warming up to you in the way that feral cats warm up to a box with blankets in winter - cautiously, with a rigid spine and many false alarms.

you don't particularly mind, either - Ellie and Dina have been helping you with the winter garden greenhouses a lot, and even Joel has stopped by on his way back from patrols to check in, lingering with glares or stares depending on his mood. he even came over to help you try and fix your porch steps leading to the backyard - free of charge, though you sent him home with some of the biscuits you'd made earlier that day.

you still get on each other's nerves - snide remarks, passes at the other's intelligence or capability. Joel criticizes you nearly every chance he gets, but you've come to decide it's a defense mechanism and not entirely in his full control. you, similarly, tease him every moment you can for his dramatics, but suddenly clam up and scamper away at any semblance of feelings or emotion. he always lets you come back though, without any mention of it.

"are you seriously worried about her?" you ask, sighing gently. you see the uptick in his brow when he looks at you, but you quickly follow up - "because we can go find her." you add, softer.

his jaw loosens slightly and he sighs heavy. "no, 's fine. I know she's at Dina's. just bein' dramatic."

you shoot him a look with your brows raised - no shit, Joel - but the withering look he gives you shuts your trap before you can go and run your mouth.

so you let him relax in his own way - pacing in near silence for several minutes before he stops, makes an internal decision to pour you and him each a finger of some amber whisky, and then drains it all in one go. you opt to sip yours.

the wind is what has you in a disturbed state - it howls louder in the basin of this valley than it ever has before in your life; screaming down the streets, blowing through the rush of firs that line the outskirts of downtown. and now, it uses its immense force to slam weeping drops of precipitation into the gardens hard enough to form bits of cold hail - a threat which, had it not been twenty years into the end of humanity, would likely still put gardeners to their beds with a curse to Demeter.

but now, circumstances are a bit more dire. losing crops, especially at this time of year, could be fatal.

"y'done with that?" his voice pulls you from your thoughts, looking up to see him standing above where you perch on the couch, gesturing to the towel in your lap. you blink, nodding, "-oh. yes, I am, thanks."

you use one last handful to scrunch up your wet hair, handing him the towel expectantly - but he stays rooted just in front of you, eyes staring unblinkingly at you. a sense of warmth floods through you, starting in your face and spreading over your chest and abdomen. his eyes are softer than they usually are; you lift a brow, his dark gaze unmoving. "something on my face, Miller?" you ask, lifting a brow. it's snappy - you don't necessarily intend it to be, but you can never tell with him.

he blinks, grabbing the towel from your hands which he'd provided for you when you'd arrived, sending you a grave look. "don't you start with me." he snaps back, turning to walk off towards the laundry room. the room, you think with foolish butterflies, where your jacket hangs up with its orange, janky stitching over the right side to dry. in some ways, a mark of Joel Miller. you smile down to yourself, staring at the spot he'd just stood.

you swallow your thoughts. you were here for a reason - not to get distracted, but to make a cake for Ellie. Joel had asked you a few days ago to help him bake a cake - for no apparent reason, you don't think her birthday is anytime soon - you'd agreed because, aside from the fact that there's little you wouldn't do for the girl, you haven't baked one in a long time and the lavender you'd grown last summer and dried is begging to be used in a cake batter.

"we need to get started soon!" you call out, shifting slightly to try and find his concealed body somewhere in the house. a faint call of his gruff voice responds to you, but you can barely hear through the onslaught of rain outside; suddenly, and with a careless flicker, the lights all shut off.

the whirring of heating stops, too, until everything is dark and silent.

you stare with shock, blinking in the dark - the house is silhouetted by the darkening sky, plagued already by thunderclouds. fuck.

"Joel?" you call out, rising on your feet to find him - you remember him mentioning in one of the first rounds of patrol with him - before anything, back when he really was just Tommy's brother - that he'd been some sort of handyman pre-apocalypse and so how the fuck has he just tripped the fusebox-

you feel him before you see him, unfortunately.

Joel, for all the time you've spent intimately knowing what his body feels like, shocks you every time by his sheer strength, the size of his shoulders and the broadness of his chest - especially when you slam into him in the dark.

"fuck," you both chorus at the same time, you stumbling back and him likely rubbing his shoulder. you groan as you hit a thumbtack stuck in the wall with your head, rubbing the spot sorely in the dark.

"the power's out." he states, irritation laced through his words. you roll your eyes, knowing it's unlikely he'll even see them in this light anyways.

"hadn't noticed."

your voice is flat and the silence that follows turns your face hot, taking a breath as you rock on your heels. "well I didn't do it." he states obviously, causing your brow to lift slightly until you look out to see through the muggy windows against the downpour that the whole block is out of power. damn weather.

"found a flashlight." he clicks it on, the light faint and dying as he brushes a few cobwebs from his hand - you realize the flashlight must have been from before the outbreak, with the original owners. but then the light is illuminating in your face; your eyes squint and you bat it away from you with a hiss, glaring at the man in front of you.

"what are you, a vampire?" he's holding in a laugh, you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, "you tried to blind me, that was a perfectly acceptable reaction. besides, I'm sure the batteries in that thing are a second away from corroding. don't put that near me."

he sighs, setting it beside him on some half-wall and you cross your arms. "suppose a guy like you probably doesn't have many candles, do you?" you ask, rocking on the balls of your feet - you really don't wish to spend the evening alone in your freezing house - nor in one that is completely dark.

"do I seem like I'd have any candles?" he asks, equally as exasperated as you. you let out a frustrated groan, leaning against a wall and jumping when you poke your hip into a table you hadn't expected to be there. you ruminate for less than a second before perking up, gasping in a sharp way that has his hand finding your elbow in alarm.

you ignore the flip of your heart at the gesture, tilting your head instead. "I have some. at mine." you say, shifting on your feet. it looks borderline dangerous to go outside right now - as you look out, it must occur to Joel that he's still holding your elbow because he jerks as if to remove it, but instead slides his hand up to hold your shoulder. it makes your heart skip a beat and you scarcely move a muscle.

Joel huffs a long-suffered sigh, before nodding. "let me get my boots."

getting to your house was less of a disaster than it should have been; Joel had the foresight to stuff a change of clothing into a bag after a brief argument about him not owning any umbrellas ('you don't have a fucking umbrella?' 'well pardon me for not havin' a Wal-Mart to stock up at during a fucking apocalypse.') and had held the lid of a trash bin above your heads as you ran, avoiding as much pelting hail as possible, to your front porch. you knew he was irritated - with the weather, with the fact that Ellie wasn't home, maybe even that you didn't get to make the cake - enough so that he wouldn't even make eye contact with you as you fumbled, fingers frozen and wet, for your key.

to your embarrassment, it's too stuck in the keyhole and your door wouldn't budge. it'd grown sticky and misshapen after the heat and sudden cold of winter, the frame wholly unfit to keep a functioning front door on its hinges.

"for god's sakes, give me them." he snapped, pushing into the frame and snatching the keychain from you, tinkering until he was able to slam into the doorframe with a grunt and burst it open.

"we needa fix that." he observes, ridding himself of his boots as you slink into the dark house after him, your face hot at his automatic assumption that he would help you fix your doorframe. he hadn't been particularly happy about fixing the steps for you, but he'd done it without being asked.

once you're rid of your wet coat and boots, you grab Joel's arm in the cold, dark space of your entry way and start to lead the two of you rather quickly up to your bathroom. "where the hell do you keep these things?" he grumbles until you've fumbles your way into the master bath, feeling around in the dark under the cabinets and avoiding stray screws sticking out near the drainpipes; it occurs to you that perhaps you should saw them off. maybe you could bribe Joel into doing it for you when he comes round to fix the doorframe.

seconds later you spin, holding up thick candles triumphantly, smirking as you shove three of them into his surprised arms. the lighting in your house is interrupted by the flash of lightning, flickering brightness over the dark porcelain tiles. "good thing we like to share, right Miller?" you smirk, grabbing the rest of the candles, eyeing the Epsom salt in a mason jar in the fading light, mentally noting to use that next time you take a bath.

he grunts at your words and you grin, shrugging. "what's mine is yours, right?" you ask sweetly.

he gives you a look as you make your way to the main bedroom to grope around for a lighter or matches - you can feel his irritation starting to wane away, slowly trickling like the beginning of a stream. "when did I ever say somethin' like that?"

you shrug with one shoulder, sending him a dark grin, "well you sure must've thought it that night when you invited yourself in to my bathroom."

it's quiet aside from the storm - your stomach broils in anticipation, heat and some kind of arousal tickling at your guts. there's nothing you love more than irritating him.

you tilt your head, desperately wanting to add more, but not in the particular mood to start a real fight.

Joel, at your words, doesn't get mad - instead he just stares on at you, much too silent, brooding.

his eyes swirl seductively, as if reliving that night in his head. you sure are - his stare, the way his eyes had trailed over your body, the soap slipping over your pert tits and just begging him to join you. in your mind, you leave out the blood and the wound from your stomach, the yelling from Joel and... well, everything that happened after that.

his eyes trail over your body, getting stuck on the curves of your hips and breasts, before meeting you again. when he opens his mouth, the words are not what you'd expected.

"this is too many candles for one woman to have in her bathroom." he grunts, shooting you a stern look that seems nearly sinister in the dark moonlight. the rain pours relentlessly on the roof and onto the windows, streaks in the reflection sliding down his broad chest.

bending over to reach the matchbook on your dresser, you toss him a little grin, "never said they were just for me. believe it or not, I tend to enjoy setting the mood."

his brows raise, setting the candles on the surfaces around him - two on the nightstand, one on the bench at the foot of the bed. you light each of them gently.

"set the mood." his voice is flat, twinging slightly with a hard jealousy that nearly has you floating.

"that's right." you nod, lighting the candles with a gentle smirk. he hums, crossing his arms as you cross to his side, lighting the candles and avoiding his eyes, suddenly very aware of the central piece of furniture in the room - your bed - and the lack of any chairs or couches.

"did you bring a lotta men into this room t'set the mood?" he asks suddenly, sending a wave of arousal through you. you hide your smirk as you turn back to him, illuminated by the flicker of candlelight. the implication of his words - did you - like he knows that you're only sleeping with him now. that he likes it that way.

you nod, "only the nice ones." your voice is nearly a purr; his eyes are dark pools, widening in the abyss of desire that threatens to swallow you both whole. his hands find purchase on your hips as you tilt your head.

"Ian?" he counters - both of you know the answer - but you don't mind leaning in to that curling, angry monster of jealousy that hides itself as indifference.

"maybe." you retort, leaning closer to him, tilting your head to keep eye contact. "it's always so much better when it seems romantic. they're not as selfish. less rough-" you see his eyes flicker when your hand coming to trail over his broad chest. "let me cum as much as I want."

of course, this was a fib. there were scarce numbers of people you let into your bed as is - even fewer who ever made you cum at all. Joel surely knows this - but his hands tighten around you all the same. "s'that right?" he asks, head tilting down to stare deep into you. you swallow, nodding with a grin. "it was much more civilized. and they weren't afraid to ask me to drinks or to come have dinner."

his smirk drops and, for a moment, a pang of guilt hits you; you hadn't meant to bring that up, in fact the prospect of going on a date with Joel scares you more than most things in the world - but he moves on quite quick.

"how many times?" he says instead, cutting off your spiraling thoughts. your confusion must show on your visage; Joel tilts his head, staring at you sternly, expectantly. "how many times did he make you cum?"

you blink, trying your best to continue your little white lie, but instead, your voice shakes out, "th-three." you admit. the smirk that curls under his stubble sends a flicker of dread through your gut - he's seeing straight through you.

you've cum three times with only one man - he's standing right in front of you, and he certainly knows it.

but he likes to play the game. so he nods, "okay, baby. three. I can beat three." he says simply, thumbs starting to rub slow circles into the skin exposed above your waistband. your cheeks heat, "wh-what?" you ask dumbly, watching the twitch of a grin that flickers across his skin in the dewy glow of the candlelight.

he shrugs, "been dreamin' about tasting that pretty little cunt all week."

your eyes widen - a hot coil of arousal swirls in your core as you stare up at him, wishing you'd swigged that whisky that lies over at Joel's in the dark like he had, if only for the courage.

because mutely, you've realized this is the first time anything has been initiated between you without an argument - and by Joel, nonetheless. he seems almost bashful when you look back at him.

"why'd you wait this long, then?" you ask, trying to sound coy but instead sounding very aroused, out of breath.

he lifts a coy brow. "waitin' for you to set the mood, I guess."

you stare at him for a moment.

his eyes flicker in some foreign kind of shyness, and then it occurs to you; you nearly burst out in laughter. "-was that a joke?"

your heart skips a beat when Joel lets out a small smile.

it's warm, syrupy - full of light. you nearly forget why you're laughing. "maybe. don't matter."

he seems so soft, so shy - as if embarrassed that he's admitting how bad he's wanted you all week. like you haven't been the same way.

but you can't seem to let it go - "a joke, from crabby old Mr. Miller?"

but you knew it'd come, using his name like that.

his hand is strong when he grabs your jaw, gentle but stern, and fighting his own smile - the smile lines around his eyes glowing and beautiful. you wish you got to see them more.

"doll, I thought we've talked about bein' respectful." he lifts a brow and you nod, swallowing your laughs quickly as his hand squeezes on your cheeks. "now, we've made it look real nice in here, haven't we?"

you take a moment before realizing he's waiting for an answer - you stand taller, nodding, "yes, sir." you agree, fighting the growing heat within you.

he nods, "'s right. so I'll treat you real nice, just like the boys you talk about." he sneers, weakening your knees. he moves you both slowly toward the mattress, tilting his head, "do you want that?"

does he even have to ask?

"yes, please, I want it." you agree, the desire to have him between your thighs growing unbearable. "we need'ya to come three times. you're going to count for me, aren't you?"

you wish more than anything you could defy such saccharine, sweet condescension from the man in front of you - but you've always been weak for him and his cruel mouth. you nod, staring up at his dark eyes, letting him push you onto the mattress gently. you faintly wish you'd taken the time to make your bead neatly this morning - but the thought is pulled from you as you note Joel's sudden hesitation. you tilt your head, about to ask if he's okay, when he abruptly speaks.

"you're so fuckin' pretty, darlin'." he says suddenly, looking at you with that exact stare from earlier on his couch; your heart flips as you stare up at him, swallowing. his hands come to your shoulders, moving until he's standing flush against the edge of the mattress, your thighs spread open for him to caress your neck gently. your heart pounds at the stark honesty of his words.

"beautiful." he whispers, feather-light touches over your neck, your chest shuddering and breaths short, staring in silence. "d'you know that?"

he's being uncharacteristically soft, and an inkling in your mind wonders if it's all a show - never would Joel Miller willingly be kind in such a manner. so giving, so... loving.

that panic that often finds you in the more tender moments flares up. you swallow thickly, "are you gonna get to it, or just stand there and stare at me?" you snap, the panic rising at his words.

his slow movements upon you stop, his eyes meeting yours sharply. something changes in him, a shift that is foreign and also familiar; as if snapping out of some trance and back into his original state.

"I'll do whatever the hell I want to." he snaps, "and you're gonna take it because I'm choosing to be nice to you." his voice is unforgiving - the cold tone with which you're used to. where you're safe, unafraid of what lies beneath tender caresses or words. "you hear me?"

you swallow down heat, a pool leaking into your panties - you're unsure if it's the way he was softly caressing you or the roughness of his words - probably both. "yes, Joel."

he lifts a brow, correcting you. "sir."

you swallow, nodding. "yes, sir." he leans over, kissing the crown of your head gently. "that's good. now I don't want to hear another fucking word out of you unless you're counting for me." he stares down out you, skin glowing under the scruff of his facial hair light up by the glow of the candles. he nods at your silence, a small smirk. "always liked you better when you're fucked so stupid you can't get a word out, anyways."

you don't dare speak, but you shoot him a withering glare, one that has him chuckling. "y'always act like such a brat, but you always end up doing what I tell you, don't you?"

you stare at him, your heartbeat in your throat, sat below him with your neck craned up. he raises his brows, hand coming to caress your jaw, "yeah, you do." he nods, "pussy can't get enough, huh?"

he's speaking in rhetorical, but you still want to slap him across the cheek.

you press your thighs closer but any kind of relief is prevented by his own legs as he stands between them. he leans forward, then, one hand pushing your jaw back until you're forced to look up to the ceiling; his other, snaking around your hips to thumb at the hem of your top.

his breath is hot as it hits your earlobe. "s'okay, I can't get enough of this pussy, either." he whispers, teeth nipping at your soft skin.

you sharply exhale as his hands tug on your top, releasing the looser buttons until it's held by only two of them, near your collarbones. he hums lowly, fingers rising to undo them himself. your skin is a wasteland of goosebumps, anxiously waiting for his touch.

he groans when you let the top slide off of you, your bare chest glowing alight by the candles. his eyes swallow you whole, amiring every part of you; your face burns warm, even as his hand trails one light finger down, over the swell of your left breast and brushing against your perked nipple.

"knew you weren't wearin' a bra." he grunts, his teeth scraping over your throat, "saw it the moment y'walked through my door. sat all pretty on my couch, teasin' me in this top." he growls, hands sliding over your shoulders to grope at your breasts.

you let out a sudden sigh - you hadn't noticed the baited breath that'd been held in your lungs the moment Joel'd pushed you onto the bed - you feel about to burst with need, your eyes pleading up at him. "sounds like you were just lookin' for it." you snap, eyes narrowing as you grow unwilling to play such games with Joel.

he wastes no precious moment; the smack is delivered light and playful to your right breast, stinging in pleasure as you gasp in a breath. his hand soothes over it even as he sneers in your face, leaning into your space, "did I tell you you could speak?"

you glare defiantly, "I thought we'd established by now that you always let me get what I want. you might even want it more than I do."

his hand finds its old home against your throat; holding you towards him, not restricting your airway but claiming you anyways. you feel another gush of arousal at the move, his eyes glaring into you. "oh, you'll get what you want, sweetheart." he says, voice holding no kindness, but an ominous amount of sincerity. "gonna be real nice to ya. all you're gonna do is sit here and look pretty. can you count to three?" he asks, voice rude. you glare back at him, "obviously."

he smirks, "we'll see."

and then he starts.

you aren't sure what you expected, but Joel wasn't lying when he said he was going to treat you nice. caresses over your skin, growing clammier by the minute- his clothes, still on and still wet from the downpour, sticking to his broad shoulders and expanse of his chest. his lips pepper over your neck, your jawline, teasing the corners of your mouth and releasing a cacophony of butterflies before dipping back down to your chest.

his hands are so large, gentle and intentional as they slide over the warmth of your skin. "pretty girl." he mutters, leaning so that one knee corners you, pushing you backwards until you're laying back on the mattress. you shutter a gasp as his thumbs and forefingers find your nipples, thumbing over them and sending currents of pleasure through you.

your whimpers and soft gasps are swallowed up by the sound of the storm against the roof, the cold house warming up by the second. he watches with lidded eyelids as his fingers twist your nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp of pain from you, pleasure blossoming through your body. you squirm, but he soon grows impatient, standing back and grabbing onto your ankles, tugging you towards the edge of the bed.

"keepin' all these slutty candles around, huh? how long you've been wanting to use these with me?" he asks gently, his fingers fumbling with your waistband. you help him, shoving them down your legs along with your panties, tossing them to his left.

"the candles aren't the ones that are slutty." you gasp as he pulls you closer to his hips, lifting you slightly of the mattress. his hard cock, separated from your yearning cunt by his denim, presses deliciously into you. he actually laughs at this; a shake of his head and a flutter of his eyelashes. "y'got that right."

he doesn't tease you like you'd expected - no, instead one finger circles your slit, gathering the sopping slick that leaks from you before gently sliding into your desperate heat.

you mewl loudly, eyes scrunching shut in pleasure. his finger is thick, warm; curling slightly as he slowly thrusts it into you. he hums lowly, one hand lowering you to the mattress then sliding up your skin to palm at your tits - they're stained with a few lovebites, brazen and still lined with excess of Joel's spit. it makes you shiver in pleasure. "that's it, baby." he growls lowly, "tight, real tight for me." sweat lines your brow as a low coil grows in your abdomen.

you nearly speak out of sheer habit several times, jolting when he hits your sweet spot repeatedly, hand flying to his hair and holding tight; he groans at that, deep and sweet. your eyes fall to his bulge and your hands move to palm him eagerly; he hisses in pleasure but the fingers not inside you catch your hands.

"not right now, sweetheart. not gon' be selfish, right? 's all about you."

when he adds a second finger, you're already squirming, regretting your doubt that he'd tease you. he's excruciatingly slow, gentle - his hand slides up to hold you by the throat, pushing you against your mattress as he starts to curl his fingers, thrusting harder.

you moan deeply as he finds your spot; your clit aches, neglected and throbbing, and your hand almost moves to relieve yourself before you second guess yourself and remain with your hands on his bicep.

you sigh, eyes rolling back as he fucks his fingers into you, wishing more than anything that his mouth was on you. or his cock in you.

his hand is a steady warmth against your throat and you know he can likely feel all the failed words and moans as they die out in your throat. he grins, fucking you steady with two fingers, "is there somethin' you wanna say, baby?" he asks, feigning genuine concern.

you groan out in frustration, that hot simmer growing as pleasure streaks through you. you glare at him, surely an amusing sight with the tears of frustration in your eyes. he tuts, pouting lightly. "c'mon, you can say it."

you swallow thickly at his permission, his hand peeling away from your throat momentarily to caress your jawline with his thumb. "use- use your mouth. please," you gasp, desperate as you move your hips against his fingers. he hums, "what, y'can't cum like this?" he asks, his fingers starting to pick up their pace. you grip his forearm and neck, gasping as your back arches from the mattress.

his fingers drag over your slick channels, the noise of your pleasure echoing as you nod, face crumpling in ecstasy. "fuck," you whimper, tugging on the nape of his neck.

he smiles, a dark thing in the dim light. "bet you can. let's see it, sweetheart."

you groan as the pad of his thumb finds your swollen clit; explosions of light appear behind your eyelids as he adds a third finger, his thumb rubbing circles around your sensitive bud.

his hand leaves your throat to press against your stomach; "y'feel that, darlin'?"

the pressure nearly pushes you over the edge, your thighs shaking as you grab for the bedsheets, hands leaving Joel in the shock of your nearing orgasm.

the noises echo in your ears as his pace picks up impressively; your knees shake as they start to close, your muscles seizing in pleasure. your whine is higher than normal as you squeeze around his fingers, white hot pleasure spreading.

you cum with your head tossed back, legs closing tightly as one of his hands tries to pry them open, fingers fucking you through your high.

you pulse, riding your high with stuttered breaths, fingers twisted into the sheets as he pumps his own into you languidly.

you remember wryly what Joel had asked of you, and you croak through a dry throat, "o-one."

you feel a huff of breath against your cheek before he hums. "that's good, baby." he murmurs, watching your cunt twitch, your arousal leaking out of you around his fingers.

you moan lowly as his fingers leave you, rising to his own lips to taste you; his eyes stay on yours as he palms himself lightly. you eagerly swallow, shifting your hips towards where he stands. yes, you need him in you-

he shakes his head at you as throws your legs away from him - you watch in shock as he starts to move. he pulls himself onto the mattress, laying upon your pillows, looking at you expectantly. "c'mere, baby." he mutters.

you blink at him, seeing his expression and slowly crawling to straddle him. your clit bumps against the denim of his crotch as you slowly rolls your hips over his, his straining cock delicious against you.

his hands find your hips and force your movements to halt with a strong grip. you stare at him, feeling embarrassed and confused, unsure what he wants.

he shoots you a look when you try to press yourself against him again, his fingers digging into your hips- "if y'think I'm fucking you tonight, you've clearly misunderstood."

your face must drain of blood as you stare at him, heartbeat pounding in your chest as you squirm. he moves down slightly, nodding upwards towards the top of your bedframe. "c'mere. and hold onto the edge if you can't handle it."

with a shaky breath and butterflies in your chest, you let him guide you upwards, until you're hovering over his face.

you let out a breath of desire, already throbbing in need; he stares up at you, "thought you needed my mouth on you?" he sneers. "play with your tits, baby, and ride my face." your fingers rise to your breasts, teasing your nipples gently as you whimper.

"now." he growls, hands pulling your hips down onto his face.

you gasp in shock, forehead and hands hitting the wall behind the bedframe as you jolt to stare at him. his tongue drives a fat lick through your soaked cunt, tasting your spend as your hips buck. your clit brushes against his nose- fuck, his nose; strong and slanted, beautiful as you press against it once again. pleasure shoots through you, curling your toes as you press against him.

all you can feel is Joel - your hands return to your breasts, if anything so that you have something to hold on to as ecstasy courses through you. his tongue circles your entrance lightly before sliding into you. you groan out, head falling back as you grind against his face; his groan reverberates in your cunt as a jolt of satisfaction causes your legs to weaken. "feels so good," you whimper, breathlessly; you don't even care that Joel told you not to speak, all you can think of is his tongue on you. the heat of your second crest starts to bubble over already; you let out a long moan.

you feel one of his thick fingers slide over the globe of you ass, gathering your slick before prodding gently at the tight ring of muscle below your cunt.

you gasp in shock, desire flooding you as need spurs you on, "fuck- please, sir, yes." you gasp, hoping the honorific will inspire him to give you what you really want.

he does. his finger breaches your hole slowly as you keen forward, gripping onto the headboard. he moans into your pussy as gushes of pleasure gather from the sensation and you whimper lowly, the feeling of his nose against your clit mixing deliciously as he slides his finger deeper into your ass.

if there's a better thing than having Joel's mouth on your cunt, it's that he can't speak like this; you start to move your hips, riding over his nose and fucking back onto his digit as he groans lowly.

"fuck- fuck." you groan, legs quivering, threatening to give out. he hums, leaning to chase your pussy as you move up, starting to move his finger inside your tight channel, his eyes staring up at you; you lock eyes as you thumb a nipple and your eyes roll back at the wide-blown pupils that meet you.

his hands, large and strong, pull you back against him, cementing you as he laps at your pussy, fucking his finger into you quicker and bringing you so close to your orgasm that you fall back slightly; your hand stabilizes yourself on his clothed chest; rolling your hips, the new angle sets your cunt into a wild frenzy of clenching, feeling incredibly close and chest stuttering as you near your high.

his finger leaves you suddenly as he pulls you towards him again - you barely have time to whimper at the loss of feeling before his tongue is flicking over your clit again, sending streaks of hot pleasure through you.

he's delving into you once again, his nose rubbing against you, your hips sliding over his face and finally pushing you over the edge.

your yelp of pleasure tails into a moan as you roll your hips, cumming on his face as you ride it out once again, legs shaking impossibly. you're muttering swears mixed in with his name as you ride out your second orgasm, shaking in desire.

"two," you whimper, sweat breaking on your forehead as one of his hands slides over your thigh, raking blunt nails over your skin. but he continues, your cunt sensitive as you jolt away from him as you catch your breath; you slide off of his chest to the mattress, your whole body tremoring with pleasure.

his face is flushed, chin glistening with your juices as he sits up, muttering, "don't you move."

you stop your movements, staring with hot cheeks and a swollen cunt as he turns, hands finding one of your pillows.

he leans forward to prop your head upon it; you gape at him in confusion, still pleased at the relief of strain in your neck but knowing you'll cum one more time before he's satisfied.

your body already yearns for it - you realize with a hot flash of arousal his intentions as he slinks backwards then, sliding to his knees.

your legs, despite yourself, spread for him. he smirks, "look at you, sweetheart, so willing for me."

you bite your lip, "just make me cum again," you say breathlessly, finding your strength again.

he raises his brows, "you sure you can handle it?" he asks, his palm sliding to cup your puffy cunt, the stimulation making you gasp. and then he slaps you, landing a harsh pressure on your clit that has you yelping, knees closing.

his other hand parts your legs, smacking you repeatedly until you yelp out, "yes!"

he stops his ministrations, instead rubbing your mess of juices all around you, causing you to sigh a gentle moan. he presses a kiss to your inner knee as he hums.

"I want eyes on me, sweetheart. can you do that?"

your eyes flick down to him as he settles between your quivering legs with a grin. a gentle kiss above your mound that has your eyes fluttering. "yes," you say breathlessly.

he rewards you with his lips against your cunt once again; it's immediately sending you over in stimulation, your legs tightening around his head before you gasp at the feeling, his tongue flattening over your swollen clit and plunging again into your entrance.

it's not long - your body is buzzing with electric desire, throbbing and jolting every time Joel's hands spread your legs open wider; your ankles curl and press into his back as his tongue alternates between flicking your clit and stroking as far into you as he can.

he's groaning into you, using his fingers to spread you further open for him; eating you out like it's his favorite meal. you're not sure if you'll stay conscious after your next high - you feel it creeping towards you and you whimper to Joel, starting to feel too sensitive.

"Joel- it's-" you whimper, pulling back and starting to crawl away on your hands, your legs tremoring with pleasure, moving up the mattress. he growls, hands grabbing you and pulling you back to him.

"not done with you yet." he murmurs, lips attaching back to your cunt. you buck your hips at the pleasure of overstimulation, hips moving away.

his hand grabs your ass, pulling you once again towards him, "stop fuckin' squirming. thought you wanted to get to three."

"I do," you whimper, gasping as his tongue traces around your pussy lips, tasting you and groaning into you. his face glistens with your juices and it's everything you can do to keep staring at him; he glares at you, "then don't complain."

his tongue licks a stripe up you again, swirling and sucking on your clit, and within moments you're nearing your high.

then suddenly everything - your fingers twist painfully as your body goes rigid, hitting your orgasm with a scream, your legs shutting around him and muscles spasming.

"that's right, sweetheart, ride it out." he mutters into you as you shutter, unable to form words but babbling his name incessantly as you push yourself up the mattress, away from the stimulation again as pain and pleasure swirl around your body.

fuck, you almost- you felt something different about that last one. he pulls himself until he's leaning over you, "think you're forgetting somethin'." he teases, his hands running up until they palm your tits.

you groan, hands shaking as they push against the mattress, the warmth of his body delicious. your eyes are fluttered shut, "two." you realize your miscalculation as it leaves your mouth -"n-no-" your eyes widen at your slip-up and you shake your head, embarrassed; your mind too consumed by Joel to fully function.

you wish he would just fuck you - his cock is unbelievably hard straining against his jeans and you urge to take him in any way you can. you'd let him have anything.

Joel sneers at you, amused by your flustered state. "d'they teach kids to count in these fuckin' FEDRA schools anymore?" he growls, slapping your pussy once more and making you yelp.

if you'd been paying more attention to his words, you'd have snarled that you learned how to count in public school, before the outbreak - and that he's a fucking idiot; you can't, however, as you're slapped on your sensitive clit once again.

fuck - a streak of euphoria through you at the jolt has your back arching.

"shut up, Joel." you whimper, "can you just- please, can you fuck me?" you ask, brows knitting together. he sighs, pulling back to stare at you with a stern stare. "just a little bit?" you beg, a ravenous force spurring in your blood. you need him.

"god damn it." he snaps, "I'm bein' so good to you, and all you can do is bitch and moan about my cock. got you so fuckin' obsessed, don't I?"

you groan in frustration, half of your body screaming to let yourself rest and half of you searing with desire and frustration. his words fluster you; even more so as he leans forward, hand spreading you apart to roll his clothed hips against your bare ones gently.

you let out a mewl, hips jerking back at the directness of the denim on your clit, the sharp sensitivity hitching in your throat. you ache and clench around nothing, your cunt begging to be filled by him. "please, Joel. I'll do anything." you insist smally, eyes fluttering shut. his lips ghost over your hairline and then peck your cheek in a shocking show of kindness.

"you can take it?" he murmurs against your lips. hope sparks in your heart and your bare ankles wrap around his his, pressing him against you, "yes, yes." you promise, nodding eagerly. he hums in thought.

"I'll fuck you with my fingers, then."

you gasp, hips jolting when his fingers spread your sopping lips, his eyes intent on your face as he circles your entrance. the tip of a finger notches against you and you flutter around him; your hands grasp onto his forearm and shoulder, staring up with a gasp. you're aching - you need him, any of him.

"Jesus, look at'you." he groans, muttering as his head dips to watch your pussy suck his fingers in with ease. he slowly pushes until he's knuckle-deep, groaning, "greedy little thing."

but his eyes stare and he doesn't move; you take it upon yourself to rock your hips, gasping at the pleasure you find as you take him even deeper.

he looks desperate, with his eyes wide, curls wet, mussed, and peppered on his head. "baby, I've gotta taste you." he grunts, suddenly sliding back down to lay between your legs; you mewl in shock as his mouth attaches to your clit in moments.

his fingers, then, start to thrust. gentle, at first, but you're so stimulated you shake your head, "can't-I can't." you whimper.

he shakes his head, the action notching his nose once again against your clit and sending shots of euphoria through you. you feel numb and on fire, eyes rolling back.

"you can, and you will." he mutters into your pussy, tongue sliding across the sopping plane of you as his fingers pick up their pace; your thighs clench shut around his head and squeeze - you can't help it - and he moans a genuine sound of pleasure at the feeling.

"you were so ready to when it was my cock. maybe I should use some of your toys you love tellin' strangers at bars about so much." he grunts, "make this little pussy cream even more."

your face burns as your eyes snap to him; a shiver of interest is soon overcome with the knowledge that you couldn't handle that; you glare at his words, anyways. that was one time, to him. when you were drunk. sure, not the best first impression, but- look where it got you.

you shake your head as you writhe below him, his lips returning to your sensitive mound to suck harshly as his fingers start to pump harder into you. he decides for himself with a hum, pulling away slightly, "no, you taste too fuckin' good. gonna stay here all night."

you believe him.

he tears you apart, tongue lapping you up, twisting his fingers, curling them as he slides them into you; the noise of your cunt wetly taking Joel's fingers and mouth make your eyes roll back.

he's everywhere - your fingers twist once again into the bedsheets, your toes curling as all of your muscles tense.

his fingers leave you suddenly, the feeling leaving you to suck a gasp into your lungs as he trails his hand over the valley of your breasts and into your mouth; you suck your juices off of his fingers eagerly, your mouth falling open in a yelp when he nips gently at your clit.

you jerk away, knowing you're sharply close to your next orgasm, your body tremoring and tears forming in your eyes.

the overwhelming pleasure is building immensely and you squirm away from him with a gasp hands coming to cover your pussy as it spasms, aching and leaking arousal.

"J-Joel- I can't," you wail.

he tuts, "c'mon, taste fuckin' amazing. love this little pussy." his arms snake around your hips, dragging you back and smacking your own hands away from your core. you sigh at the gentle swirl of his tongue through your swollen folds, hands carding into his hair and gripping tight. he mutters it quietly, "jus' one more, sweetheart, you can do it."

you whimper, a tear streaming down your cheek and onto your neck, "I can't, it feels so good, I can't-" you whimper, a direct contradiction to the shaking quiver of your thighs as you roll your hips, savoring the feel of Joel's thick tongue against you.

he hums lowly at your hip's movements and it makes you scream; the vibration and the nudge of his nose on your clit too much-

it hits you all at once.

you can't see anything; your hand flies to the sheets as one hand pushes Joel hard away, euphoria slamming into you harder than you ever have.

you feel the pads of his fingers, swirling over your clit as your hips buck wildly. you're sobbing, a state of bliss you've never felt before. your orgasm lasts much longer than you'd expected, euphoria rolling in waves that keep coming to shore.

when you come to, pussy still clenching in residual flutters, you have to suck in a deep breath.

through your tears, you see Joel's face; the bottom half is soaked in your juices, even the mattress is damp from your high - oh. you didn't know you could do that.

he presses a kiss to your thigh - you jolt, whimpering lightly. he shushes you, hands finding your hips as you shake, trying to come down from that high. "four." he mutters, smirking as you groan, your head falling back. "fuck." you hiss, throat raw.

"that wasn't so hard, was it sweetheart?" he snarks, still not moving from between your thighs, though you're sure they're dead weight on top of his shoulders. says him.

"fuck you, Joel-" but your words stop short and you gasp, hands flying as you feel Joel's tongue lick up the side of your cunt; "I can't Joel-" you sob, shaking your head, "'s too much."

you're so overstimulated you feel like you're floating - but after your shock you realize he's avoiding the sensitive areas, gently swirling his tongue in your wetness. tasting you just for the sake of it. he just shushes you once again- "hey, hey," he soothes, hand petting your hip gently, "just tastin' it. gotta clean you up." you shouldn't, but you feel a hot flood of arousal just at his words. your hands relax in his hair as he slowly moves his mouth around you, avoiding your oversensitive clit mercifully.

"you just rest. did real good, sweetheart. was so fuckin' sexy." you can't rest, though your body slumps and your eyes shut - his tongue runs lazy, thick circles around your pussy, gentle. you can tell - it's not for you, and maybe it never really was; Joel's loving it, and he's not planning on stopping anytime soon.

and you stay like that - eyes closed, catching your breath and calming your tears, as Joel's hands run soothing shapes over your side and thighs, his mouth not leaving you for a second.

it was minutes, could have been almost an hour, and you slowly fell from your teetering edge of unraveling; instead, a slow burn was once again ignited in your stomach as Joel lapped away at you, eating you out gently and devotedly.

occasionally there was a groan or a moan from him, gentle - or a mutter into you about how good you tasted. you'd move your hips gently when something fluttered deliciously and you chased that feeling, thinking of all Joel's words tonight which have made you flush - and most of them praise.

he's like a man starved.

and by the time you start to climb that hill again, your muscles aching but pussy fluttering in desire, you're burning up. you cry again, gently.

he brings you to orgasm a fifth time with a moan into your pussy and your hand gripping his own for dear life.

he laps everything that spills from your weeping cunt as you let out a scream of his name, swallowed by the noise of the outside thunder. you shake and tremor, blissed beyond anything you've felt, tired and spent.

he holds himself to you and you have to twist, crawling away from the devilish mouth that calls your name, his hands gentle as he lets you go; finally having mercy on your destroyed body.

you feel like you're floating, unable to stop shaking.

it's then that he chooses to strip down to his boxers; you watch him with shock as he does so, unsure if he's going to propose you take his cock now - you don't know if you could.

instead, he drops a kiss to your forehead. "I'll be back."

he's in there long enough for you to deduce that he's decided to take care of himself on his own, in the shower - a decision that disappoints you but also seems very thoughtful. there's that flicker of selflessness you see sometimes in Joel - the things he tries to hide.

you hear the faucet running in the bathroom and when he comes back, there's a washcloth and a cup of water for you.

he doesn't wipe between your legs until you're done shaking - and after, you sit there, your hand curled around his bicep, while he soothes over a few strands of your hair.

"gonna need new candles." you mutter, nodding to where they all sit, dripped down to within an inch, wax splattered atop your table and over the side of the foot chest.

"I'll get you a million candles 'f you let me taste you like that again." his chest rumbles as he speaks. a flicker of butterflies once again appear in your chest and you shrug, "I know I said I like when it isn't rough..." you trail off, face burning, "-but none of them ever did... any of that. and I really liked that."

besides, you both knew the moment it left your mouth that your words weren't true - in honesty, Joel has done nothing but rough you up and you always crawl back for more. you wouldn't have it any other way.

he scoffs, "good thing you're mine now." he mutters, "taste like fuckin' heaven. could watch you squirm all day." he drops a kiss to your temple and your eyes bore down at your lap; his words hold a semblance of possessiveness - not unfamiliar to this thing that you have with him, but now much more meaningful to you. why is your heart fluttering so fast, a grin growing on your face?

he clears his throat after a moment, shifting to sit up. in the process, your arm falls from his and you turn to look at him.

"do you remember last time I was in here?" he asks suddenly and you have to snort. "was dying of infection, yes I remember."

he sends you a look. "you were not dyin'. don't be dramatic." he counters, eyes narrowed.

you grin, rolling your eyes, "you were the one who was acting like it was such a big deal." you defend with a shake of your head. he sighs, "well I-" he stops short and it occurs to you that he's having trouble getting words out.

you look into his eyes gently, and he's searching yours. you're not sure what he's looking for. "shit," he mumbles, looking slightly lost - you've seen him like this, before - once.

"I'm tryin' to be less...mean. when it counts." he says intently, looking at you. "y'know, after we talked, and I..."

he trails off but you wait patiently for him to find his words.

he finds them eventually. "-well, that time I was here, when I helped you with your bandage..." he stutters his way through it and takes a deep breath. "I said something, that night." he starts again, running his hand over his face.

"you tend to say a lot of things when we're together." you supplement, your heartrate picking up. you're starting to feel your fight or flight kick in.

he rolls his eyes. "yeah, well. I said... that you were probably hopin' I would want t'make you my girl." oh. yes, you remember that. "-and I said that it was pathetic you'd think that." he says, not looking at you.

you too look away; yes, he's said many cruel things to you - that one, in particular, has haunted you many nights after waking up from dreams of warmth and sunshine and Joel's hand in yours.

"one of your best lines yet." you say, unsure what else to do. your gut twists in rejection at just the memory - then, it'd been in the heat of an argument and you'd just used it as kindling to fuel your fire, but it has since become a more prevalent proof every time you start to think too much about the what ifs.

Joel isn't amused by your words. "I'm just saying, if you did ever want somethin' like that - not that you would, but...it wouldn't be pathetic." he finally finishes. "it was a stupid thing to say." he mumbles quickly, still looking away - through the dim glow of the dying candles, you can see the red on his cheeks.

you feel hot, the implications of his words. he wouldn't mind if you wanted him to be yours. if you wanted to be his. your stomach flips.

grazing your hand over his back, you brush your lips to his shoulder. "you didn't mean it. we say a lot of things we don't mean. both of us." you answer softly, your lips caressing his bare shoulder. you feel the goosebumps under you across his skin at the touch and fight a small smile.

“remember when I tried to hit you?” you ask, thinking back to that disastrous dinner and the delicious aftermath on his foyer floor.

he smirks, finding the courage to look down at you. “think ‘bout it a lot.”

you hit his shoulder playfully, shaking your head with your own wry grin. of course he does.

he looks at you faintly, a hint of a smile flickering over his face. "we've been through a lot of shit together." he murmurs. he eyes the dresser across from you, lit up by a candle; you don't know how, but somehow he pinpoints exactly where you've hidden your gun, in your sock drawer. and he probably knows exactly why it's hidden.

"-don’t get me wrong, I like this thing we got goin’ for us, with the teasing and fighting - but I just want you to know I trust you. and I care about you." he says just as gently, his face flustered. your face heats at his words, a gust of affection blowing through you at his bashfulness.

you smile, leaning in to him; your hands snake around his neck as you gently pull his face to you. he finds more words, "sometimes you're a pain in my ass-" he raises a brow before you can snap back at him- "-but nothing you could do is... pathetic. 'specially not thinking something like that."

his eyes are large and hold none of the desire that they did thirty minutes ago; instead they hold something much deeper, more vulnerable. you don't feel scared by it.

you smile, "I trust you, Joel." his eyes stare into yours unafraid. "thank you. I care about you too."

and you're not ready to say everything else to him - no, not yet, even though your heart's known it for a while and so have you, somewhere in the back of your mind.

you do want something like that. you want exactly that.

"-and," he starts, "since this was your idea of something more civilized," he sends you a look through the corner of his eye; you know this isn't the worst of your sins committed with Joel, but you recognize his sentiment with a smirk, thinking back to your earlier words. you hide your growing smile as he adds:

"-maybe we could get drinks sometime."

taglist closed - this is the last fic that will be using my taglist. moving on, I've made a notifs blog - @tremendumnotifs - for ppl to follow for notifications. tysm!!]

@elissaaa @satansgoatt @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @silencesscreams @silkiers @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspams @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap @userpedros @feministfanboi @buckyhoney @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @notsosecretspy @okyeeaaahhhh @thirdoffive @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @cutesyscreenname @wannab-urs @soooooyesbutactually-no @redhotkitchen @omlwhatamidoinghere @joelapologist2001 @leeeesahhh @bitchyikes @bigboiseason123 @furseal1986 @mumma-moonchild @kamcrazy123 @pseudonymist @xyz32 @xlengueterax @suzmagine @sushiwriterhere @yourwinchesterbros @littlesuckyducky @worhols @hearthrooob @thatgingefromtheinternet @grhowls @letterstopedrito @those-late-night-feels @trashmuseum @holeforjoel @charismatic-writer @nervous-plant @sushiumex @undrthelights @tarcinblue @fleursdecherise @alltheseperfectimperfections @whorror-s @thecasualnope @scarletthefierce

#let’s chat abt mr miller #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us (tv)#the last of us smut #joel the last of us #joel x reader smut #joel x reader #joel smut

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saberlight1 · 5 months

Text

promises & melodies — coriolanus snow

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: slight tbosas spoilers, established relationship, buzzcut!snow, slight possessive snow, kind of toxic snow, fluff, Y/N usage, standard hunger games warnings.

authors note: hiii. so i can’t even really explain myself if i’m being honest.. tom blyth is too fine i’m sorry finnick 😔. part 2 is linked here, part 3 here. but i hope you all enjoy, much love!

masterlist

A bright smile adorned your face as you ran through the flower field with your cousins, Lucy Gray & Maude Ivory.

You and the Covey were showing your boyfriend, Coryo, the secret spots of paradise you had found during your time in District 12. Since the Seam wasn’t the most peaceful place, you and your family opted to find your own sanctuary.

You always had, specially when you were kids, before you got rounded up by the peacekeepers. You all moved where the wind took you, never staying in one spot for long.

You missed it.

But, this was okay, you thought to yourself. You still had some of the people you cherished most, some you had lost along the way.

You were grateful regardless, enjoying the time you spent with your loved ones.

Lucy Gray’s laugh rang in your ears as Maude began to sing another one of her tunes she had came up with.

Out of breath, the three of you slowed down, walking at a normal place.

“Lord, that kid. She’ll be singing until she goes to the grave.” You joked, your thick accent smiling with your features.

Lucy laughed with you, locking your elbow with hers. “Sounds like a good way to go if you ask me.”

You nodded.

Lucy Gray sent a smile your way before breaking off to catch up to Maude Ivory, who was bent down ahead of you, looking at some swamp potato, or Katniss, as Lucy liked to call it.

You shook your head with a smile as you heard Lucy tell her for the 10th time that it was too early for it to be ripe. Sighing softly, you enjoyed the flowers surrounding you, the sunshine on your skin, and the wind in your hair.

That was until you felt the grip of your lover on your hips, your heart immediately soaring in your chest.

He walked with you, his hands still on you as he came to walk beside you now.

“It’s beautiful out here,” You murmured.

He looked to you with a smile, the hand that was around your waist now going to grip your hand. “Where did you say we were going again?”

“To the lake.” You smiled. “Maude Ivory found it a couple months ago when we were explorin’.”

He hummed in delight. “Haven’t swam in ages.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll love it,” You linked your arm with his, leaning your head on his shoulder with a smile. “It’s almost as gorgeous as you, darlin’.” You teased.

He shook his head, breaking eye contact with you. “I doubt that.”

“You’ll see, Snow.”

After more walking and chasing after Maude, you and the Covey finally arrived.

Maude immediately took off, running into the water, the others following suit.

You turned to Coryo with a grin as you slipped off your sundress, leaving you in your cyan swimsuit. With a wink, you turned on your heel and ran for the water, diving in.

When you resurfaced, you were met with a splash of water and saw white hair emerging from the water.

You felt his hands creep up your back before you saw him, a smile gracing your face. He gripped your waist, pulling you into his chest as he kissed your head.

You sat in his embrace for a while, simply enjoying your time with the boy.

“Thank you for this,” He whispered into your hair. “I mean it.”

You turned around in his arms. “What do you mean?”

“For taking me out here, showing me your space. And taking me away from that god awful district.” He joked with a smile.

You laughed. “You’re right. It’s wretched. If it wasn’t for the Covey, I would’ve made a run for it a while ago.”

He stopped for a moment at your words, his eyebrows furrowing. “You would?”

You nodded. “Yes. I hate it here. The peacekeepers rounded us up a year or two ago. Killed my and Lucy Gray’s mama in the process. A lot more too.” You sighed, looking down at the water. “Before, it was so nice. We had our own family. Since we been here… It’s been a struggle, I’ll tell you that much.”

His hand came up to cup your cheek. “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure that’ll never happen again.”

“You can’t promise that, Coryo. And that’s okay.” You sadly smiled, taking his hand and kissing it before swimming to your family.

The white-haired boy stood still in the water, watching you swim away as he processed your words.

He’d prove you wrong.

He was sure of it.

After all, Snow lands on top, and he was surely taking you with him. No matter what.

#tbosas #coriolanus snow fluff #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coryolucy #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #corio snow #coriolanus fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #lucy gray baird #the covey

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aurorawritestoescape · 4 months

Text

BAD BLOOD - Part II

Pairing: step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

Summary: your step uncle Joel visits you in your bedroom and then you have a chat with your stepdad Tommy.

Tw: +18, mdni, smut, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), everyone is still horrible, perv!Joel, dark!Joel, dark!reader, darkish!Tommy, slight somno, m/f!masturbation, fingering, cum eating, degradation, tiny bit of praise kink, daddy kink, blackmail, that chin caress but make it filthy, swearing

Word count: 3,5k

A/n: thank you for giving pt 1 such a warm welcome❤️ special thank you for your comments and rbs- your kind words mean the world to me🫶 I hope you’ll like this one!😘

Series masterlist || Part I || MASTERLIST

*******

You wake up feeling a hand on the back of your thigh. You’re lying on your stomach, legs tangled in the blanket. The hand slides down, caresses the back of your knee, then trails up your thigh again, reaching your ass. You feel strong fingers squeeze your ass cheek over your skirt. Still half asleep you imagine a faceless man lying on top of you and piercing you with his cock. You bite your lower lip, while bliss and arousal are spreading all over your body. In your mind the stranger turns into your stepdad and you slightly push your ass out into the hand with a soft moan.

“Naughty girl,” you hear a gruff voice and immediately open your eyes and turn on your back. Your heart is ready to pop out of your chest when you see Joel, your step uncle, sitting on the bed next to you and watching you.

He’s wearing a tight-fitting gray henley and dark blue jeans. His muscles are bulging under the sleeves and a lot of his chest is showing. He looks annoyingly hot.

“The hell are you doing here?" you rasp, covering your thighs with the blanket and straightening your top. You remember you don't have any panties on and squirm under Joel's intent stare.

"Just checkin' on you. Wanted to make sure you got home safely yesterday," he says as his gaze slides over every exposed inch of your body.

"Cut the crap, Joel. I felt you groping me in my sleep," you grumble furrowing your brows at him, "I know you're a scumbag but you still manage to surprise me."

He smiles at you, his eyes dark and icy, "Don't act like a fucking prude all of a sudden, angel. Tommy told me how big of a slut you were."

"Oh, so now you're gonna lecture me on the importance of celibacy or something?" you giggle rubbing your sleepy eyes.

"Not before I fuck you, sweetheart," he replies and the air in the room gets heavy.

You don’t wanna laugh anymore, your pussy tingles and you squeeze your thighs together. Joel notices the movement under the blanket and smirks,

“Need something, angel? Maybe this?” he turns away from you and reaches for something on the bed. When he faces you again you see your vibrator in his hand.

“Give it to me, Joel,” you stretch your arm and open your hand waiting.

“Is it better than a real man?” Joel asks, leaving your words without attention.

“Less annoying for sure.”

“You think of your stepdad when you torture your clit with this?” his gaze pierces you as he’s rubbing the toy with his thumb.

“Fuck off, Joel,” you spit out at him and he smiles, the emotion not reaching his eyes. “Where’s he by the way? Tommy,” you ask, chewing on your lower lip.

“Don’t know. Haven’t seen him since yesterday. You scared him shitless with your ‘yes, daddy’, ‘bye, daddy,’” Joel makes his voice higher, imitating you and you roll your eyes, “he left the bar soon after you. Probably fucked his fist at Walmart’s parking lot, poor guy.”

Joel laughs and you smile dreamily imagining Tommy jacking off to the thought of you. The imagery makes you space out for a moment until you hear Joel’s murmur, “Thinking of daddy’s cock, angel?”

You scoff and bite back, “What about you, old man? You got all riled up too yesterday. Were drooling like a hungry dog all over me.”

“Come on, sweetheart, you can’t blame me, when all your skirts look more like belts,” he returns his gaze to the part of your legs not covered by the blanket and licks his lower lip.

You can’t help but glance at your toy in his big hands. What if he uses it on you? Just this thought makes your core warm and tingly.

“Can I have it?” You sit up reaching for the vibe but he pulls his hand away and you grab air instead. Your chest is pressed to his shoulder now and the mixture of his cologne and sweat makes you gush. Your desire blooms and gets overwhelming.

His gaze slides from your eyes to your lips and chest. You glance down noticing your perked up nipples visible under the top and look back at him not hiding away,

“Like what you see, Joel? How about you show me what a real man can do for me?” you purr while your hand snakes to his thigh and trails up closer to his bulge. He grunts and pushes you back down on the bed with his hand splayed on your chest.

He tosses your toy away. “Open up, angel,” he says with a calm yet stern tone. You hesitate for a second, your heart is pounding, and he raises his brows as a signal to hurry up.

You pull away the blanket and slowly bend the leg that’s further from him. Your skirt slides off your thighs and he takes a deep breath when he sees your wet folds.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he grunts reaching for his belt. He unbuckles it with one hand and unzips his jeans. Your eyes follow his every move, hungry and desperate for anything this perv gives you. He tugs down his boxers and lets the band stay under his big balls.

You see his cock as he takes it out and you grunt through your teeth realizing that you’re fucked. Whatever power he’s had over you by now triples when you see what he’s packing. His cock is thick and long, more gorgeous than anything you’ve seen, both in real life and in porn. Two thick veins on the shaft are calling for your tongue. You desperately want to trace them and take that angry fat head to the deepest part of your throat. You want his cock in every hole you possess.

You lock eyes with him and see him smiling proudly,

“Like what you see, angel?”

Holding his dick in his big veiny hand Joel looks back at your desperate pussy and his warm palm glides up your thigh. He pushes your skirt completely out of the way and grazes your shiny seam with his knuckles. You feel a slight pressure on your clit and take a shaky breath.

“Pretty pussy,” he mumbles, “not the prettiest I’ve seen but she’ll do.”

“Asshole,” you whimper watching his thumb and index finger spread your folds.

Joel whistles. “Have you been this wet the whole time? Dripping on the sheets and talking to me? Naughty girl.”

His cock is fully hard now and he’s slowly stroking it. The sight of it along with his gentle touches send a new surge of arousal to your center and your wetness beads at your entrance and slides down toward your asshole.

Joel catches it with his thumb and brings it to your clit before gently rubbing it.

“Fuck, you’re such a slut, letting your uncle do this to you,” he murmurs pleasuring you and himself.

“Step.. uncle,” you moan, fluttering your eyes shut and arching your back.

The degradation, the depravity of what you two are doing make your pussy clench around nothing over and over and you open your blown eyes desperately looking at his weeping cock.

He notices your hunger and asks motioning to his member, “Want it, angel?”

You nod but it’s not enough for him.

“Say - ‘please, give me your cock, uncle.”

You whine scrunching your nose and his hand leaves your pussy and rests on your belly.

“You’re not my uncle,” you whine, bucking your hips in search of his hand.

“Let’s try again. ‘Please, give me your cock, uncle’.”

Not being able to contain yourself any longer you repeat it through gritted teeth and he tuts, “that’s not how good girls ask. I know you’re far from that title but you can act like one. I saw you do it in front of Tommy. Was cute.” While he’s talking to you his palm is rubbing your mound making you squirm while your pussy’s throbbing for him.

“You’re disgusting.”

He chuckles, torturing you without shame.

You look up at the ceiling feeling anger boiling up in your gut, but your pussy aches more and more and you want him inside you so badly you might cry.

“Give me your cock, uncle, please”, you mewl and his mouth twists into a smirk, your humiliation creates wrinkles around his eyes.

“Good girl,” he praises you sarcastically and leans down to your face. You put your palms on his biceps and he kisses the tip of your nose. His facial hair tickles you, his breath smells of cigarettes and beer.

“I’ll give you my cock when you keep your end of the deal, little slut. And after I’m done with you, ya gonna be so desperate for more, you’ll drag your cute ass to Austin following me like a stray dog.”

You wince ready to snap back at him but suddenly he grabs your pussy and pushes a thick finger into your hole. You gasp and lift your hips into his hand with a whimper.

Joel starts pushing his digit in and out of you, quickly adding the second one and your soaked pussy squelches with every pump of his hand.

“Listen to this sloppy cunt. She wants a nice juicy cock. Or maybe two cocks, angel? Will you take mine and my brother’s dick at the same time?”

You mewl as the image of your stepdad and step uncle ruining your pussy flashes in your mind. The third finger slides in and Joel sits up watching the pleasure twist your face and ripple through your body. Then he starts shaking his hand pushing on the spongy spot inside you with the pads of his fingers as the heel of his palm is hitting your clit at the same time. Your whole body is shaking and a loud moan leaves your lips. He quiets you, covering your mouth with his big hand,

“Shhh, angel…, you’ll scream for me but not today..need you to be quiet…or your daddy will get jealous.”

His words tip you over the edge and you cry into his hot palm, sound muffled and desperate. He’s fucking his fingers into you while you shiver and tremble clumping around his thick digits.

“Yeah, just like that, my little slut,” he whispers, talking you through your high and drinking in your ecstasy.

When your climax subsides, his hands leave your mouth and pussy and not granting you a respite he grabs you by the arm and pulls you up.

You stand up on weak legs and Joel slides his hand through your wet folds. You whine with overstimulation while he gathers your creamy cum. He spreads it over his cock and pushes you to your knees.

You kneel between his thighs, ready to please him and give him the sloppiest head. His throbbing cock is bobbing in front of your face and your hand darts to take it from him but he slaps it away groaning, “Hands off, slut. You don’t deserve it yet. Show me your tits.”

Your anger rises up again and you glare up at him sitting back on your heels. No one has ever said ‘no’ to a dick sucking from you. You still follow his command, yanking your top down and exposing your breasts. “Good girl,” he praises you, starting vigorously pumping his cock and panting heavily, “Gonna come on your pretty face. Want my cum, angel?”

“Yes,” you mumble, mesmerized by his fingers gliding along the thick shaft and over the tip.

“‘course you do, cock hungry slut!” he hisses, grabbing you by the back of your neck and pulling your face closer to his length.

It takes a few more strokes and he curses and begins shooting the ropes of cum over your mouth, nose, chin and cheeks. You lick the bitter liquid off your lips staring up into his half lidded eyes.

When he stops coming he doesn’t let go of your hair. Still holding you close between his legs Joel starts spreading his cum all over your face. You take a sharp breath and close your eyes hastily as his hand covers every inch of your skin with his milky spend.

“Joel,” is the only thing you could utter, and the humiliation makes your pussy tingle again.

You carefully flutter your eyes open as his index finger and thumb slide down your jaw, caressing your chin. “Much better” he comments, looking down at you with a smirk. Then he wipes his hand on your bedsheet and gets up. You’re watching with your mouth agape as he tucks his cock back into his jeans, pats your head and leaves your bedroom.

***

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Tommy..” Tomorrow morning my ass! You curse yourself inwardly for telling Tommy that you’d see him the next day wearing his favorite pjs. Of course the fucking weasel left the house as soon as he could to avoid meeting you.

You were so excited to inform him that he would get to fuck his hot stepdaughter and now you’re in the house all alone. Joel left as soon as he came all over your face and your mom is out too probably with Tommy.

Jealousy and anger are eating you alive, you hate them and yourself. On top of everything you are horny. You replay the images of Joel’s hand on your pussy, his fingers stretching your little hole over and over again. You watch a couple of stepcest porn videos imagining Tommy and Joel in place of the actors, listen to the bar recording and come a few times on the couch in the living room - on Tommy’s favourite spot. You don’t clean your creamy slick off the couch after yourself, wishing he’ll notice it.

The sun sets and it gets dark but you don’t turn the lights on in your room. You're lying on your bed, waiting for Tommy to return. You nearly fall asleep a few times but you’ve decided to talk to him today so you slap your cheek to wake yourself up and continue waiting.

Just around midnight you hear a car driving up the street. You glance out of the window and see Tommy's car pulling up the driveway. Excitement and anticipation make your stomach flutter but the happy moment blows out like a balloon when you see your mom getting out of the car as well.

Disappointment twists your face shifting into rage and you grind your teeth.

They enter the house and you hear Jess laughing loudly. “Drunk bitch,” you think and jealousy returns in full force.

They go upstairs and head to the master bedroom. You hear nothing for a while and then the sound of a shower starting. You sneak up to the bedroom and peek through the door.

Tommy’s standing at the foot of the bed taking his shirt off, revealing a white tee underneath which is strained by his broad shoulders and muscular back. His arms look massive as he’s been working out a lot recently. His butt also looks perfect in his dark sweatpants. You drive away your horny thoughts and decide to act while your mom is taking a shower.

You walk into the room, your steps muffled by the carpet and glance at the closed bathroom door.

Knowing Jess you have 15-20 min. You come up to Tommy from behind and snake your hands around his big torso.

“Out already?” He asks, apparently mistaking you for his wife and you smile when he lets you hug him. You nuzzle your face against his nape breathing in the piney scent of his soft hair.

Tommy puts his hands over your forearms and only then realizes his mistake. He turns around rapidly, pushing you away.

“Fuck! What’re you doing?” he hisses as his eyes dart nervously between your face and the bathroom door.

“We need to talk, daddy. Been waiting for you all day,” you pout fumbling with the hem of your silky pj shorts. The ones he likes.

“The hell you’re calling me daddy for?” he asks and shakes his head. “I can’t. We shouldn’t,” he mumbles hurriedly, “let’s talk tomorrow, ok?” He grabs your arm and tries to lead you to the door but you plant your feet on the floor and don’t barge.

Instead you pull him closer to you by the hem of his shirt and open your hand showing him an earbud.

“Sit for a second and listen to this,” you motion to the bed with a warm smile, “please, It won’t take long.” He's glaring down at you, his lips pressed in a tight line.

Slow so as not to spook him you raise your hand to his head and put in the earbud. Still clutching his tee with one hand you take your phone out of your hoodie and play a recording. The recording.

The moment it starts playing his expression changes. His eyes get wide, plush lips part. You drink in his fear and gush seeing him listen to the filthy things he said about you. His eyes are looking through you, concentrated on the dialogue in his ear.

Suddenly his hand darts to your phone, and he commands, “Give it to me!” You’ve expected it so you hide the phone behind your back but he’s reaching for it pushing you with his torso and making you stumble backwards. Your back hits the dresser and his hand clasps your wrist, his face inches from yours, “Give me the phone!”

You look up at him with defiance and say, “Even if you delete it off my phone, it’s in the cloud, daddy!”

You know well that these old men know nothing about the cloud and you see with satisfaction the way his face falls.

You’re enjoying yourself too much. He’s crowding you against the dresser practically hugging you into his strong body. His size, his strength, his scent overtake any sense you have and you buck your hips into him with a whimper. You feel a hard shape of his cock against your lower belly and your heart sings at the realization you’ve given it to him. As if burnt Tommy pulls away from you, his fury replaced by fear. You take a deep breath collecting yourself as you don’t have much time.

“Relax. Take a seat,” you coo, stepping up to him and pulling the earbud out. You push him towards the bed and he obediently sits on its edge, eyes downcast.

You use his shock as a distraction and stand between his knees. Then you carefully perch your ass on his thigh and wrap your arm around his neck, placing the other on his chest. He glances up at you, asking quietly, “what do you want to do with it?”

You feel his stiff length with the side of your thigh, and purr smiling, “it’s a great audio, right? I listened to it twice yesterday. First time live in the bar bathroom…and then again later on my big pink bed. I came so hard listening to you talk about my tight pussy…” you nuzzle his cheek and he flinches but doesn’t push you away. His mustache tickles your face and you giggle.

You bring your lips to his ear and whisper, “I want it too, daddy. I need a real man. And those silly boys…they can’t give me what I want.” Your lips graze the shell of his ear and he shudders. He puts his hand on your naked thigh and for a moment you’re scared he’s going to push you off his lap but instead he gives it a light squeeze.

You're soaking your shorts and probably his sweatpants and moan into his ear, “I…I wanna be loved, Tommy. And I feel loved only sitting on a nice fat cock. You have a perfect one, daddy. And you’re so caring and sweet. Fuck me and I’ll delete your confession. Mom will never know how much you want this,” you look down and he drops his head as well watching your fingers move your shorts to the side exposing your wet pussy. Tommy breathes in sharply and curses. You slide your middle finger between your folds and swirl it around your pulsing clit as the other hand clasps his shoulder, “Just a sneak peek, daddy,” you whimper softly. “And a little taste,” you add, leaving your aching pussy and raising your hand. You show him your middle finger, shiny with your slick and bring it closer to his lips.

Tommy looks at it, eyes dark and hungry under the furrowed brows, glances up at you and mumbles, “you’re sick.”

You shrug your shoulders not putting the finger away. You wait. A gasp leaves your parted mouth when he takes the tip of your finger between his lips and you feel his tongue dance around it licking off your juices. His cock twitches and pulses against your naked thigh and you squirm on his lap, desperate for any pressure.

With a sigh you remind yourself that your time is almost up so you pull your finger out, peck the corner of his mouth and whisper, “I’ll text you the details.” With that you get up, walk to the door and leave just in time before the water stops.

*********

Thank you for reading!💖

Comments and reblogs will make me very happy!💕

Part III

General tag list: @nervousmumbling @harriedandharassed @bbyanarchist

Tag list for the series: @milla-frenchy @missannwinchester @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @tammythr @cherriescream

If you want to be tagged for this mini series or everything else of mine please let me know!❤️

#joel miller #dark joel miller #joel miller smut #dark!tommy miller #pedro pascal #dark!reader #joel miller x you x tommy miller #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel x reader x tommy #dark tommy miller #tommy miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #tommy miller smut

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linkuei-scum-without-s · 5 months

Text

First time posting a headcanon so I'm kinda nervous but I'm give it a shot ( BTW ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE )

So I got a random headcanon about the lin kuei bros ! But Cats AU :D

Okay okay imagine living in a house with a three Cats you just found them homeless on the street and feel sorry for them so you took them in ... Orange cat, Gray cat and a black cat in your house

And if you're going to ask me how did all turn into a cats... Then the answer is Shang Tsung... Don't ask how ... It's just Shang Tsung that mf turned them into a cats ... Maybe just to laugh at them....

Anyways living with the Lin Kuei cats it's the best thing!! If you manage to gain their trust ..... Only with Tomas and Kuai tho.. You don't wanna get near Bi-han... Trust me... This bitch would give you a new scrach everyday... He's the kind of the bratty cat

Hiss 24/7 when every you get closer to him

Sometimes attack you and you'll have either Tomas or Kuai trying to stop him... Or both of them by pulling him from his tail....

Man he's a cat with trust issues so it's gonna take a while until you gain his trust

But to be honest... I believe Tomas would be the first one would Trust you... After seeing you how you're so caring to all of them... Even his brat older brother

He will be the type to be a clingy cat that's how I imagine him

When ever you sit down expect him in less then a second to be on your lap.... (HE'S SO ADORABLE KWHWKWJEJ)

Also whenever Bi-han give you a new scratch Tomas would be the one treating it... By licking it.... He's trying to apologizing instead of his bro

Like "I Apologize for my brother action.... He's just like this all the time... Here let me treat your wounds! " but in cats language...

Tomas is loves cuddles as well whenever you go to bed he'll climb up next to you and sleep

He's so wholesome

As for Kuai Liang... He's a calm cat... When you first let them in... He won't do anything just watching you around...

He's believe in 'Action speaks Louder then words' so he'll only trust you by you're action... And since you are so caring about them... And can take his Older brother's behavior he can tell you're a nice person so he will trust you a little... Still calm tho

Likes to sit besides you if you were watching TV or reading a book whatever you're doing he'll sit next to you... Either sleep or watching what are you doing

Btw when you go to bed he will be sleeping next to your head... He loves your hair... He think it's soft so sometimes when you woke up you'll find him sleeping on it like a pillow .... If you have a short hair he will be leaning on your head

He will try to convince his brother that you're harmless and never meant to hurt them but it's not working... Bi-han thinks if he give you a little cance you might going to stop him on his back or betrayed him...

Man the last time you were trying to wash them all.... It went well with Kuai and Tomas they both let you wash them peaceful.. Somehow Tomas was playful in the water and it got you confused actually for both of them... Them were so calm for cats begin in the water.... You didn't think about you just that's they might have got used to water somehow... Or they are a special cat who would give no pain in the ass to their owner when they are washing them

Anyways after finish the and dry them off you turn you're head to the last target .. Bi-Han ... man if you Know anime JJBA you will know what I mean when I say the fight you just had with bi-Han is the same fight between Jotaro and Dio trust Man and all of this happens while trying to get him into the bath top... You got.. A lot of scratches A few were on your face as well not only a just scars you have got but you had too chase him around the whole house whenever you get closer to him will attack you and hiss so good luck with washing him...

But if you manage to gain his trust (and it's a hard challenge trust me) he will be less aggressive ... Might even let you pet him (he will try so hard not to purr) doesn't attack you anymore... But he will always be cold with you...it's just his way of showing he trust you btw at rare times you'll find him sleeping next to you on the bed.... All the time he prefers to sleep alone

This is so random I just wanted to make some headcanons but always so nervous to post it but right now I decided to give it a shot.... Plz don't hate me of you don't like it ;-;

#headcanon #mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat headcanons #lin kuei brothers #bi han #tomas vrbada #kuai liang #cats #x reader #mortal kombat x reader #tomas vrbada x reader #bi han x reader #kuai liang x reader #cat au

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joonsmagicshop · 3 months

Text

Stress Relief Series - PJM

Summary: A week ago Taehyung asked a favour. For you to have sex with his bandmates to relieve some tension and stress. First one up is none other than Park Jimin

Paring: Jimin/Reader

Word Count: 4K

Tags: Smut, handjobs, blowjobs, sex, dirty talk, Reader takes control, This is just soft smut

Authors Note: This is part two of the Stress Relief Series (Part 1 here) If you missed it, a new chapter with a new BTS member will be posted at the end of each month. More info at the end of part 1. Thank you so much for reading!

This was a punishment from the universe. You were sure of it

You were being punished for all the times you weren't patient.

When the line for coffee was too long you would sigh and roll your eyes.

When you got stuck behind an old person who took forever to count their change for groceries and you shifted foot to foot and cursed yourself for always picking the slow line.

When you were a kid and you just couldn't help yourself, you snuck into your parent's closet to take a peek at your Christmas gifts early because you just couldn't wait

They say patience is a virtue

You feel like that's a load of garbage.

It had been almost a week since Taehyung had asked you for a favor

Well not a favor for him but for his bandmates, his words still ringing loud in your ears and making you flush

if you would be willing…to share the wealth. Help my bandmates with their tension. Let them fuck you.”

You agreed in haste because how were you supposed to say no to that?

However it had been radio silence since, and you were more than frustrated...and impatient.

The only sign you got that the whole thing was a go was the fact the next day Taehyung sent you a text with a thumbs-up emoji and a winky face.

You let your imagination run wild after that text and almost spilled coffee down your shirt when you forgot the cup was even in your hand.

However, the excitement started to wear off when you realized the days started to fly by and no one was texting you.

You almost texted Tae to ask him what was up, but worried you would come off too desperate.

So you did what you had to do, you busied yourself with work and friends and chores to keep your mind off the whole thing. You kept your hands off your phone as much as possible and tried not to dive for it every time it vibrated.

The week finally came to an end and you felt a sigh of relief as you turned off your computer for the weekend and grabbed your coat.

You waved goodbye to some of your coworkers as you left the building and smiled at the soft rain that was coming down.

The drive back home was short but silent. You decided to listen to the falling rain instead of the radio as you took in the slightly foggy city around you.

As you pulled into your parking spot at your apartment you gathered your things and braced for the rain. It was a mild soft rain that covered everything but made the world look cozy and beautiful. This was exactly what you needed after a long week at work and you were fully prepared to take advantage of the cozy weather.

You unlocked your door and shucked off your coat placing it on the hook and dropping your purse on your small kitchen table.

You let your hair out of its pins and sighed as you rubbed your scalp.

You patted over to the bathroom to take a shower. The kind of shower where you use the most expensive products and really take your time and enjoy it. You shaved everything and even used a very expensive moisturizer you only use on special occasions as you slipped on gray sweatpants and an oversized white tee shirt.

You clipped your wet hair up and out of your face as you made your way back to the kitchen, fishing your phone from your discarded purse to order some food.

However, you stopped dead in your tracks, thumb hovering over the unlock button as your other hand came up to cover your mouth as you let out a tiny scream

An unknown number had texted you while you were in the shower, asking for you specifically by name.

Your heart rate sped up as you confirmed it was you and you paced the kitchen waiting for an answer, dinner be damned you weren't hungry anymore.

The unknown number wanted to prove it was actually you.

Which was fair

You sent back your full address including the apartment number and the special knock Tae did whenever he came over.

Two loud knocks followed by three soft ones.

Something you both had made up after you had sex for the third time.

You waited with bated breath. Your body nearly shaking with nerves as the text bubbles kept coming up and disappearing.

Maybe the person changed their mind

Maybe it was a scam

A trap

Maybe

You put your phone down and began to frantically clean.

Tae had assured you time and time again he didn't care what your apartment looked like he just cared about what he was there for but this was Jimin, this was someone new and you wanted to make a good first impression.

You were like a hurricane going from room to room and desperately trying to make it look presentable.

By the time you made it to your bedroom, you shucked off your gray sweats and put on tight black leggings instead. You had decided to keep the white tee shirt and you tried your best to style your still damp hair into something presentable.

You didn't have time though

The two loud knocks followed by three soft ones had your heart hammering in your chest and your body froze.

You clipped your hair back up and raced to the door. Trying to go fast but keep your footsteps light so Jimin doesn't hear you.

You took a deep breath before throwing open the door.

And he slipped inside.

Jimin was taller than you, his light brown hair hidden under a black beanie but his fringe was sticking out. He wore black jeans and a large black sweater and was smiling down at you shyly.

“Hi.” You spoke, grateful your voice didn't give away how nervous you were.

You had seen pictures of Jimin, you knew who he was but you had to admit he was even more beautiful in person.

“Hi.” He repeated with another shy smile as you could already see the blush tinging his cheeks.

“Do you want to....come sit down and we can....talk?” You asked as he nodded and removed the beanie from his head, shaking out his hair and following you through your apartment.

You both settled on the couch. You sat cross-legged while Jimin sat with his feet planted firm on the ground. You made sure you sat close enough to press your knee into his thigh.

“I-uh. I'm not going to lie. I'm super nervous right now.” Jimin said softly. His eyes not meeting yours, instead choosing to focus on the rug that was under your coffee table.

“It's okay. We don't have to do anything you don't want to.” You offer with a small smile as he finally breaks his staring contest with the rug to look at you.

“I just...I don't do this. Hook up with people I don't know. Like ever?” He said as you both lapse into silence, the only noise is the hum of the fridge and the rain which is starting to pick up force outside.

“That's okay. No judgment here. I want you to feel good and have a good time.” You said, slowly bringing your hand up to rest on his knee.

With Tae everything was instant. There was never an awkward figure-it-out phase it was like your bodies were meant to be together. With Jimin being so nervous you felt out of your depth and did the only thing you could think of to get things moving.

You took control.

You slowly uncrossed your legs and stood up. Jimin looked up at you through thick lashes as you very slowly climbed on the couch, straddling his thighs. Going slow and steady as if not to spook him.

His hands were drawn to you like a magnet and they settled on your hips as you hummed appreciatively at him.

“This okay?” You asked as you kept your distance, not trying to sit directly on his lap instead placing yourself more on his knees.

He bit his lip and nodded and you smiled down at him.

“Jimin, baby. Tell me what you want.” You purr putting your hands on his shoulders and giving him time to decide.

“I-I want whatever you and Tae do.” He mutters out looking up at you.

You bite back a smile.

“Jimin what Tae and I have...and do.... is completely different from this. He's...well. Tae. This isn't about him and me this is about you and me. I don't think you want what Tae and I do because Tae is very dominant and...takes charge. Not to say you aren't like that but I think you just want to be taken care of don't you.” You coo at him as you run a hand through his soft hair.

Jimin's eyes flutter closed as your skilled hands run through his hair scratching his scalp as you go

You let him enjoy the massage before you continued to speak.

“If I'm wrong tell me. But from what I can tell you just want to be taken care of. Even this massage has you giving up control. Tell me, baby. Is that what you want? Me to do all the work and you sit back and enjoy?” You ask as his eyes flutter open.

His teeth catch his lower lip as he nods up at you.

The picture of innocence

And so damn cute.

“Words please Jimin.” You demand.

“Yes. Please. I-Is that okay with you? I know you're probably expecting-”

You shush him before he can continue.

“Jimin honestly I'm not expecting anything. I know what I signed up for when Taehyung asked me if I would be willing to fuck his bandmates. Whatever you need that's what I'm here for.” You say as your hands now play with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Tae said you were good I just- fuck- he better know how lucky he is,” Jimin whispers as you full-out grin.

“Hmm, you might need to remind him.”

Jimin giggles at that.

“So, how do you want this? Soft and sweet, or taken care of a little more roughly?” You ask as you finally take your chance and inch your body forward so you are resting more on his cock, which you are happy to find is already half-hard.

“Soft and sweet please.” Jimin wines out.

“Of course baby. Can I kiss you?” You ask with a tilt of your head and a bat of your lashes.

He nods very enthusiastically and you keep your hands playing with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck as you lean forward and capture his lips in a soft and slow kiss.

His hands come to circle your waist as your lips touch. His lips are soft and warm against yours and you can taste the faint hint of the chapstick he used before he came.

The kiss is slow and sweet. Jimin keeps his hands respectfully on your waist as you push yourself into him and deepen the kiss some more.

You want him to touch you, need him to touch you, so you pull away and put your hands on his shoulders. Jimin looked up and you, dazed and you smiled down at him.

“Was it not good?” He asks voice small and you shake your head.

“Jimin it was real good. You're a good kisser. But you know you can touch me right?”

He blushes deeply and before you let him get in his head too much you lean forward and kiss him again. This time with more heat as you move your lips against his feverishly and once again run your hands through his hair.

Jimin takes note and slides his hand up the back of your shirt which has goosebumps popping up on your skin as his fingers lightly skim your spine.

He is just as good with his hands as he is with his mouth as you open your mouth slightly and his tongue makes its way inside.

Your tongues rub against each other and you whine into his mouth which only spurs him on as he pushes harder into you and you can feel his cock start to fully harden and strain against his too-tight jeans.

Your hands are roaming his body as you grind into him. The noises and whines he is making against your mouth are some of the sweetest sounds you have heard and you grind down harder to make more noises come from his plush lips.

His hands are tight on your back keeping your body pushed against his as all the awkwardness from before dissolves into loud and wet kisses as you both explore each other.

You waste no time as you pull away and Jimin whines. You grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, taking your time to admire his lean dancer's body.

You lean your head down and begin to kiss and suck on his skin. Starting with his neck and moving down to his collarbones.

Jimin's cock is hard and hot pressing against you and you grind down on it which has a high whine leaving his mouth.

You place sloppy kisses against his pale skin and as you move your body back to be able to reach more of him, Jimin protests above you.

“Feels so good when you press into me.” He mutters which has you smiling against his warm skin and you slide off the couch and get on your knees.

You look up at him eyebrows raised and lucky for you Jimin gets the hint.

He stands up and slowly shimmy his jeans down to reveal tight black boxers. You can see his cock hard and straining against the material and it makes your mouth water at how good his bulge looks.

He pauses his movement and you sense some shyness as you slowly bring your hands down to take off your shirt and bra, his jaw-dropping as he eyes you hungrily.

“Didn't want you to be the only one naked.” You tease as you bring your hand up his muscular thighs and tease at the waistband of his boxers, thumbs flicking over his hipbones.

Jimin gives you a nod, a silent go-ahead, as you hook your fingers in and drag them down slowly.

His cock jumps against his stomach and you try not to stare. He is hard and slightly curved but just like the rest of him, beautiful.

The tip is red, and leaking beads of precum which are sliding down the shaft.

Before you even have a chance to think your body reacts and you lean forward to lick at the beads which has a broken moan falling from his lips and his hands resting on your shoulders.

You sigh as the taste hits your tongue and you lick him up and down, coating his hot skin in your saliva.

His body shudders above you and you take one hand to pull at the clip that was keeping your hair up, letting it fall and fan over your face.

You pull back and wrap a hand around his cock and look up at him.

“Thought you'd like something to hold on to while I suck you off.” You purr with a wink as Jimin quickly holds your hair back as you swallow him down.

His cock fits perfectly in your mouth as you lick and suck at the tip and use your hand to jerk him off. The glide was easy with all the saliva you used earlier and you flicked your tongue to tease the crown of his cock as you could hear his broken moans and sobs above you.

You pulled off and took a breath before diving right in, this time taking his cock as far as you could and opening your throat wide.

“I-fuck-Shit-Fuck-I-god feel so good.” Jimin babbled above you as you worked him.

You kept yourself deep throating him as long as possible swallowing around his cock as he cried and whined out, his hands tightening in your hair which had your own core throbbing.

This was about him though, so you tried your best to rub your legs together to ease some of the ache as you pulled back and came up for air. Your eyes were starting to tear and you were sure you had drool all over your mouth as you looked up at Jimin.

Who looked absolutely a wreck.

You winked at him and dove back in, this time focusing more on the head of his cock which was steadily leaking precum as you worked him with one hand and fondled his balls with the other.

You found out quickly that Jimin liked it when you played with his balls as his noises got louder and his breathing got more erratic as you played with them.

“I-fuck Y/N I'm gonna cum. You gotta-gotta stop.” Jimin panted above you as you pulled off his cock and gave him one more lick from base to tip, he groaned above you, eyes fluttering closed trying to stave off cumming on your face.

“Fuck you are too good at that.” He says shakily as you rise to your feet and drag your leggings and panties down.

“Thank you.” You beam at him which causes him to shake his head and laugh.

“Your cock sucking skills... Your body... And all of you?! Taehyung is an asshole for keeping you all to himself. It's just not fair.” Jimin complained as you grinned and slowly climbed on top of him again. This time you sit right on his cock letting your juices coat him.

“I know I said I'd take care of you and I mean it. Want me to ride you?” You ask as you open the small table that is next to the couch and retrieve a condom.

Jimin doesn't say anything as you stare at him.

“Or we could do another position...?” You ask timid as he shakes his head with as smile on his face.

“I think I'm imagining this. I don't think your real. How are you so real? And so wonderful?” He asks in awe as you smile bashfully and you tear open the condom package and roll the condom down his still-hard length.

“As I said before. I'm here for whatever you need.” You respond as you hover over his aching length.

“Wait! Shouldn't I prep you?” He asks with concern in his voice.

You stare into his kind eyes with a naughty grin on your face.

“Isn't it better to have your cock stretch me out?” You reply as you sink down on him and let his cock fill you up.

He felt good inside you. Your walls accommodate him still with that slight stretch which has you wincing.

You lean into Jimin's chest as you wait for the discomfort to subside. His hands are tracing small circles on your back as he whispers how good you are in your ear.

You place soft kisses on his shoulder as you slowly move your hips back and forth trying to ease the burn and the need which is bubbling up inside you quickly.

Once everything felt okay you began to slowly rock yourself against him. Holding his shoulders steady so you could do all the work and he could just enjoy it.

Soft moans leave his lips as you ride him, picking up the pace with each thrust as you kiss him once again.

This time the kiss is more hungry and needy as he bites at your lips and you whine against his mouth. His hands are gone from your back and are tangled into your hair as you moan against him and pick up the pace.

You are grinding against his lap at a feverish pace and you feel yourself start to come undone. Your body is a live wire and all the pressure is building up as you lean forward and ride him, letting his cock hit that spot inside of you that has you moaning and chanting his name.

“Jimin-Please-f-fuck-close.” You grit out as his hands come to your hips and he helps you bounce up and down on his cock.

You are a flurry of kisses and moans as you both chase your high. You can feel Jimin's cock twitch inside of you and you know he is close.

You bite at his lip and he shudders under you.

“Jimin cum-please-cum inside-fuck” You beg, erratic as he finally lets go and throws his head back as he cums inside you.

His cock is pulsing and filling up the condom and in the orgasm frenzy his fingers reach down to thumb at your clit and you are done for.

Your walls clamp around his cock as you bury your face in his shoulder and cum around him. Tingles spread from your core all the way to your fingers and toes as you ride out your high, pressing soft kisses to his sweaty skin as you both come down.

You lay against him for what feels like ages. The rain is now smacking hard against the window as you both let your breathing even out.

His cock is softening inside you but you are in no rush to have him pull out as you snuggle into his warm chest, his arms wrap around you and he kisses the top of your hair and praises you.

You finally push yourself up and let his soft cock slide out of you. Your body feels like jelly as you plop down on the couch beside him and gather your tee shirt.

“That was amazing. Holy shit.” Jimin whispers as you throw your tee shirt over your head and grin at him

“Happy to help.” You tease as he runs a hand through his sweaty hair and gathers his things from the floor.

You lay on the couch and watch as he gets himself dressed and hastily fixes his hair looking just as beautiful as ever, if not a little calmer, or maybe that's just the post-orgasmic bliss.

“Where's your bathroom? I'm going to run you a bath.” Jimin asks turning to you as you look up at him still dazed from your orgasm.

“Jimin it's all good. You really don't have to.” You say suddenly feeling shy at his care.

“What do you mean? Taehyung told us...all of us after we're done we have to take care of you. Run you a bath and order you food. He said it was part of the deal?” Jimin answers looking confused.

You smile and shake your head.

That Kim Taehyung. Such a gentleman.

“He didn't tell me that but sounds good. On one condition. You eat with me?”

Jimin nods with a cheeky grin and reaches a hand out to you helping you off the couch and supporting you all the way to the bathroom as you both decide on what to eat.

#Park Jimin #Jimin #Jimin fic #Jiminxreader #Jimin/reader #bts fic #bts #bts smut #jimin smut

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curlyfries967-blog · 10 months

Text

Vamos A Bailar

Word Count 10.0+

WARNING NSFW THIS STORY CONTAINS HEAVY SMUT.

FemaleReader, BreedingKink, BDSM, Shibari, RopePlay, Blindfolds, Edging, Facefucking, Primal Play, PraiseKink, Toys. If it's not your cup of tea then please find something else to read.

Plot: you haven't seen Miguel in a month and a half because he's been busy with work. But tonight is your date night together at a Salsa Social and he's going to make it up to you.

Light chatter and upbeat passionate music fills the air as you enter the large dance hall room. Your new heels gently click on the marble floor as you navigate about. Your black dress flowed with ease as it danced around your thighs just above your knees. Your kind gentle eyes search the crowded hall for your missing partner. The one who swore to you that he would be here on time tonight. You have not seen him in almost an entire month. Maybe you wouldn't see him tonight. A disappointed click escapes from your mouth and tongue, realizing that he wasn't here at all. Your shoulders slump disheartened looking down at your watch. Miguel was late to your date night. He gave his word that he would be there for you.

The man was always late to everything. He never meant to be a disappointment, but he’s so focused on his work that sometimes he doesn’t even realize what time it is.

He does always make it, though. He’s reliable that way.

You see a familiar tall, muscular man with dark brown eyes and curly dark hair. His large figure made him stand out from the crowd around the two of you. He's wearing a black button up along with charcoal gray ripped jeans. When he spots you he smiles and walks up to you. His biceps bulge effortlessly as they hold up two glasses of wine in his possession.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he apologized quickly, leaning in, placing a kiss on your cheek. He handed you a glass of wine. Making up for his lateness with some sweetness.

"What happened to being on time?" You asked, feeling crossed with him.

"Hobie happened," he groans in disdain, rubbing the bridge of his nose, before taking a sip from his glass.

"Oh?" You laughed while drinking from your glass. You knew the teenager enjoys giving Miguel a run for his money. But as long as you knew Hobie, he was always respectful and kind towards you. But whenever Miguel had his moments of ranting or venting about him. You could have sworn he was describing another person or talking about somebody else completely different from the Hobie you knew.

"What did he do this time?" you asked with a raised eyebrow, placing a hand on your hip and turning towards him.

"He messed up the inventory again," he replied, shaking his head and letting out a big sigh. "I swear that boy lacks basic skills."

You couldn't help but laugh at his rant, knowing how much Hobie's actions bothered him. But despite his complaints, there was a warmth to his attitude towards his younger coworker, and you knew that the two of them had a special connection despite their differences.

"Work is like a daycare. It's like trying to manage a bunch of kids and it's damn near impossible." He's beginning to get worked up and catches himself before it ruins his evening.

He changes the topic not wanting to talk about the frustrating teenager nor his job, "You look absolutely stunning, Cariña," he successfully distracts you with a compliment and his rare mesmerizing smile. His dark brown eyes soak up your beauty. Your hair was in a braided bun, lips were ruby and enticing to look at. His eyes lingered longer looking at your welcoming full lips.

Flustered by his kind words, you can't help but smile back. You had always been conscious of your looks but his attention made your confidence skyrocket like never before. You can't help but look around, seeing if anyone was watching, though a part of you didn't care. There was something in his eyes, in the way he was staring at your lips. Feeling your heartbeat accelerating, you took a drink of your wine, hoping to ease your nerves. As you swallow, you felt a pair of strong hands slide along your sides, causing butterflies in your tummy.

"You're not so bad yourself," you gestured to his clothes with your free hand.

"I really didn't think ripped jeans would look good on me," he confessed, giving you a slow threesixty of his outfit that you had laid out for him on the bed, "You have good taste." Absolutely, the clothes you picked highlighted his assets. If you left it up to him; he would have dressed as comfortably as possible in sweats and a hoodie. Not that you had an issue with his outfit choices, but tonight was Salsa night and he promised you a romantic evening together.

"You'd look good in anything," you said coyly. You had picked out a pair of clothes for him, and you were right: they did compliment his physique. His arms bulged as he waved around his glass of wine, causing him to flex his biceps. He even looked handsome in ripped jeans. What can't this man get away with? He was charming, kind, and incredibly sexy. How did you get so lucky?

"Why thank you, gorgeous," he responded, turning to you with a grin, his eyes twinkling from your compliment. His confident smirk was enough to make you want to bite that cocky bottom lip, but you didn't let yourself go out of control. As your gaze traveled down his body, you saw how those ripped jeans accentuated his muscular frame, making your heart sink a little. How was he so ripped and so attractive at the same time? He was the ultimate tease and you just couldn't get enough.

Letting out a long breath, you took a sip from your wine, feeling your thoughts wander. This night was promising to be a good one and you were looking forward to a bit more than salsa.

A guitarist on stage played with passion, his fingers moving deftly over the strings as the singer's voice soared above the music. Emotion of the music washes over both your bodies. The couples that were there on the dance floor, spun and moved around each other. The sounds of trumpets filled the room, along with a cowbell, other chorus of instruments that the Banda played. He listens to the beautiful music as he then wraps his arm around your waist as he starts to move to the beat of the music.

You lean against him as he guides both of you towards the dance floor. As the music takes over you, feeling his body rhythmically rocking against yours, you feel yourself giving in to the passion of it all. Dancing like nobody's watching, you let yourself enjoy the moment, his arms wrapped protectively around your waist and your smile stretched across your face. You were in your element and you didn't care if people were staring. This was your night and you were going to enjoy it to the fullest.

You love it when Miguel dances with you. Not that he's a professional at it, but there's something about holding him close that makes you weak in the knees. You lean your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. Tonight is perfect, and you feel a little better about Miguel being late. You're lucky to have a boyfriend like him.

"I love the music here," He says as he then pulls you closer to his side while still moving to the beat of the music.

"I do too," you replied, turning slightly towards him and placing a kiss on his chiseled cheek. "It just screams romance, doesn't it?" You raised your glass in a toast, and he clinked his own against it, his fingers lingering in yours. "To a perfect night," you said, before taking another sip.

Feeling his warm breath on your cheek, you couldn't help but smile. This was the kind of evening that made you feel alive inside. Just the two of you, enjoying each other's company, it almost felt out of this world…

"Let's dance," he takes you out to further into the dance floor.

"You lead, love," you say, allowing him to take charge. Miguel is much more of an extrovert than you are, and he loves being the center of attention. You have no problem letting him take the lead, and he happily obliges. He takes you out on to the dance floor, and soon you're swept up in his arms. You dance together for hours, losing track of time and the rest of the world. Your mind is only occupied by Miguel and the way he makes you feel.

You're his yang to his yin when you two danced together. He steps towards and you mirrored him opposite. And vice versa as you step towards him, smiling up at him. He held your right arm up with your left hand and gently made you twirl on the floor. He loves to show you off in front of jealous eyes. He tugs you towards his body. His large hand resting on the small of your bare back, his touch sent goosebumps running down your spine. He knew exactly what he was doing, giving you such a devilish sultry smile. A nervous giggle escapes your lips, "Miguel!"

"Tu querias a bailar." He snickers, drawing you closer. You were so close to him now that it was impossible not to blush at each touch. You were still a little nervous around Miguel; but he made you feel safe, and that's what mattered. You felt yourself relaxing in his care, and your smile grew.

"I love you, Miguel," you said, looking into his eyes. You meant it, every word. You had never loved someone as much as you loved Miguel.

"I love you, too," he replied, pulling you in for a kiss.

His large body towers over you and he ever so slowly kisses you. Your head felt fuzzy, you weren't sure if it's the wine or if it was the effect he had on you. The kiss made you stumble in your sparkly high heels, causing you to accidentally roll awkwardly on your ankle and step on his toe. Mortified, you gasp. You were so embarrassed that you wanted to curl up and die.

"Are you okay, Amor?' Miguel asked, he caught your arm just in time preventing you from falling. He kissed you on the forehead, and you could feel your cheeks glowing red from his affection. He made you feel comforted, even when you felt like a total fool.

"I'm sorry, Love" you mumbled looking down at your heels while the music came to a steady halt, "Did you still want to dance?" The back of your heel stung a bite but you ignored it, you're only focused on the man before you.

"Always. Let's keep dancing," he replied, taking your hand into his and leading you back onto the dance floor. You were still embarrassed, but you knew that Miguel had already forgiven you and forgotten your clumsiness.

The music was at a lively tempo and the crowd on the dancefloor moved faster. Leads turned and twisted their followers to the rhythm of the beat. Miguel was experienced, he held both your small hands in both of his large ones. He guided you and spun you around. Loving the way you dance and move about your body. There was nothing else like dancing with Miguel. It didn't matter what moves you did or how you did them; as long as you had his large hands as your guide, you knew you'd be okay. You trusted him above anyone else and knew he'd take care of you. He always did.You turned and twisted and twirled, following his lead. He was like a magnet, making you feel at home in his arms. This was where you belonged, and you were never going to let him go.

A tap on the shoulder from a gentleman on the floor catches Miguel off guard.

"Can I dance with her, next?" He inquired peering at you.

You weren't thrilled by this other guy tapping Miguel on the shoulder and asking to dance with you. Your boyfriend seemed a little taken aback by the man's question, too. In your opinion, Miguel was the only one allowed to touch you, let alone dance with you.

He shoots the man a look of annoyance, even though it wasn't the man's fault at all, but the simple fact that he has to share this woman with *someone* is enough to cause him some degree of annoyance, however brief it may be.

"Sorry, she's taken," he says simply, almost sounding a little possessive.

"Thanks anyway," he adds quickly as if to soften the blow, just so he doesn't give the poor man the wrong idea about them.

The man gives in and Miguel whisks you away to the sound of music. "My sweet," you said, "My feet are a little sore. Can I sit down for a bit?" You bat your long lashes at him. Truth be told, your new high heels are killing you. And to break them in on the dancefloor was a completely dumb choice on your part.

"Of course, love," Miguel said, nodding. "Let's sit down and get some ice water or something." He led you off the dance floor and into the seating area, where he ordered drinks for the two of you. He sat you down in a chair, making sure you were comfortable, and then sat down next to you. He put his arm around your shoulders protectively, and you were safe in his embrace.

"Are you alright?" He asked, worried. His brows furrowed scanning your face. You seemed in pain, and he was anxious to help you.

A soft giggle escapes your lips, "Yes, Love" A waiter dropped off your drinks at the table for the two of you. Miguel drinks a dark amber liquid from a short and stout glass. You had another tall glass of wine. You moved your feet to get a better look at your sore heel. You noticed a red, burning, sore forming right at the back of where your heel strap was touching. You figured it was from the constant friction of the strap digging into your skin.

"Do you want me to take a look at your feet?" Miguel asked, putting down his glass. He looked concerned as he looked at your heel strap, his brow furrowing deeper. He seemed worried about you, and as always, you could feel his kindness radiating through you. Even if he acted indifferent around the others; he would always let his guard down around you.

"No,no, " you waved it off trying to downplay the discomfort, "I'm going to take a small break from dancing." You didn't want him to worry about you. You didn't want to ruin salsa night. However, your feet were killing you and aching terribly.

"Are you sure?" Miguel asked, looking at you sympathetically with soft chocolate eyes. He didn't want you walking around with pain in your feet. If going home earlier meant you didn't have to deal with that, then it was worth it. He put down his glass of whiskey, and his hand was still on your shoulder.

"I'll drive us home," he stated firmly, not wanting to hear you protest. There was no point in arguing with him once he's concerned about your well-being.

You stand wobbling unsteadily on your feet. You were unsure if it was the wine or exhaustion overcoming you. "Miguel, would you please be a dear-" you wince from placing too much weight on one of your feet. "Ouch!" You cried softly.

"Let me get you out of those shoes," Miguel said quickly, kneeling down and unstrapping your heels. As he took off your shoes, he carefully inspected the redness forming on your heels. "Dios mio," he sighed grimly. "You can hardly walk. Let me help you."

He picked you up in his arms effortlessly and carried you out of the club.

Your face burns a bright beet red as onlookers watch him carry you out. "This is embarrassing," you mumbled, burying your face into the crook of his neck, refusing to look at any more people. His cologne was pleasant and soothing. You inhaled slowly through your nose and exhaled out, not aware that your breath brushed just under his earlobe.

Miguel chuckled softly, but he didn't disagree with you. Your lover just kept walking. He didn't care if other people were watching him. All that mattered right now was that he made sure his girlfriend (you) were safe and comfortable. He brought you to his car and opened the door for you, helping you get inside before walking around the front. After climbing in himself, he started the car and carefully backed out of his parking space.

He looked into your eyes as he drove, smiling warmly. "Almost home, love," he comforted you.

You loved to watch him drive. His corded muscles showing off as he navigates the steering wheel. His brown eyes focused on the road. His right hand rested on your thigh giving you reassuring strokes with his thumb. You squirm rubbing your thighs together. Goodness, you couldn't collect yourself to save your life. You felt a familiar ache form. A sense of neediness.

"M-Miggles-" you mumbled softly, "How much longer till we get home?"

You gripped both of your hands on top of his hand which rested on your thigh, squeezing in hopes that he would get the message. Your stomach slowly filled with butterflies as you imagined what else he could be doing with his hand.

Miguel quickly glanced at you then returned his gaze on the road, and he could read your thoughts just by the look on your face. He knew exactly what you wanted him to do, so he gave you even more than what you were expecting. He squeezed your thigh in the way he knew you liked it, and his fingers brushed against your skin. You could feel a tingle running through you, and you grew hotter with every passing second.

"Home's just five minutes down the road, Hermosa," he chuckled. He smelled your excitement. And knew you were getting hot and bothered. He shifted in his seat a little bit to relieve his forming hard-on.

"Five minutes?" You grumbled pouting, "I don't think I can wait that long." You traced your fingers tantalizingly up and down his forearm. He was built. Absolutely strong. You admired his muscles. Your fingers moving up and down and further up to his biceps.

"I can make it two minutes, if you prefer," Miguel said playfully. You were teasing him by tracing your fingers over his arm, and he loved it. He felt his heart beating faster the more your fingers grazed over his muscles. He drove a little faster than usual, and it wasn't long before you got closer and closer to his house.

When he pulled into the driveway, he turned to you. "We're here," he said.

Eagerly you wrapped your arms around his right arm and pulled him towards you. Your lips finally meet. It was hot, sincere, and needy.

He pulled you close, loving how eagerly you kissed him. You were both in need of this, and it felt so good to finally be in each other's arms again after not being around each other a whole month.

"I love you so much, Cariña," he whispered into your ear. "I never want to go anywhere without you." There was a lot of truth in his words. You were his world, and he never wanted to be apart from you. He hated being away from you.

When you broke apart, he rested his lips on your cheek. It was a soft kiss, filled with love and affection.

"I love you, more." You giggled as he pulled you closer. Your elbow accidently hit the volume button unmuting the radio. Loud music blared throughout the vehicle startling you both. A fit of laughter escapes from Miguel as he quickly turns off the radio.

Miguel laughed with you, and soon the pair of you couldn't stop giggling. It was the little things that made you laugh with each other, and you both loved that.

"Shall we go in?" The handsome man asks after a few more minutes of laughter. He looks at you, giving you a playful wink. Even through all the laughter, he still looks dashing, you thought to yourself. How was he so good-looking?

"Only if you take me to bed," you quipped playfully. You couldn't take your eyes off him only because everything felt like a dream. You didn't want to take your eyes off him. If you blinked you were scared he would disappear.

"I'll take you in bed while I'm at it," Miguel teased, his eyebrows raising suggestively. Your eyes were already glued to him, and his question only amplified your attraction to him. He laughed at your reaction to his words, and you could hear a little excitement in his voice. He knew that those words would get a reaction from you, and he wanted you to say yes.

"Absolutely, my sweet," you chimed. He gets out of the car and makes his way over to your side of the door. The tall Hispanic mixed man opens it, taking your hand and pulling you up to him. In a blink of an eye he throws you over his shoulder. You squeal, laughing dangling over him. His hands securely warped behind your thighs; careful to make sure you don't slip from his grip. It's some miracle he's not out of breath. He made you feel weightless. It was a strange feeling, but it was also exhilarating. And with his hands wrapped around your thighs, you knew you were safe in his arms.

"Miguel, you're so strong," you said with admiration thinking about how easily he could spin you around on the dancefloor or carry you anywhere he wanted. Impulsively you smack his bottom as you face his back upside down. It's only fair if he could carry you like that. You had the privilege to smack his toned glutes. So firm. You burst into another fit of laughter as you felt the blood flow to your head.

"Did you just smack my ass?" He was perplexed and annoyed by your sudden impulsivity. The muscular guy was still able to walk and navigate the walkway to his driveway, but he was laughing so hard at your reaction that his face was a bright red. The keys jingle in his hand as he unlocks the door.

"It was right in my face," you lilt. "Again those gray jeans do you so much Justice." He shrugs his broad shoulders and nods agreeing with you. He guided you to the bedroom.

You're a little dizzy as he led you to the master bedroom where it was far more intimate. He gently closed the door behind the two of you. You could feel that he wanted you, and you wanted him just as badly.

"Ready for tonight?" He throws you over on the mattress.

"Oof-" you plop on the Bedding and he manages to dishevel your hair from throwing you there.

Smiling and teasing you move away from him by crawling off the bed, "What's gonna happen tonight?" You played dumb.

You waltz to the other side of the bedroom, away from your loving partner, undressing yourself without a care in the world. Your dress dropped pooling around your feet. Your hands reach up into your hair and unleash the braided bun it was in. You were bare. You felt his eyes follow your every move.

He swallows thickly "Oh, you already know..." He grinned at your teasing tone of voice, finding himself becoming more and more excited as you undressed in front of him. He could clearly see how much effort you had put into your hair, and he loved it.

"Are you trying to get a raise out of me?" Miguel said softly, a lilt in his voice. "Because it's working."

His eyes were locked onto you, and he hadn't looked away since you began to take off your dress.

"Is it working?" you quizzically pondered, You exposed yourself to him, just for a moment in panties and all. Making sure your back was arched just right.

"Oh, definitely." Miguel's voice was husky and low. "It's definitely working. I don't think I've ever seen you look so beautiful," he continued.

And you looked absolutely stunning. Everything about you was perfect, and this was the first time in a while Miguel had seen you like this. He was always cooped up at work, working with the other spider people. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest, and his hands were shaking with anticipation. He had never felt so excited before.

"Hmm…" you drawled amused, "I wonder if I should just go to sleep, already? It is past our bedtime."

"In your underwear?" Miguel replied with a smirk. "I think you know that's a bad idea." He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the doorway, grinning cheekily at you.

"What do you suggest I should do, sir?"

He loved the way you addressed him. He felt something tingle inside of him. He slowly licked his bottom lip, his tan fingers raked through his dark curly hair. His brown ravenous eyes carefully regarding you. He knows the woman before him is pushing for a chase; a little game of cat and mouse. He might give in just a little bit.

"I suggest you undress all the way and come back," Miguel said with a satisfied grin. "Or I could just come over there and make you do what I want."

He was teasing again, but it wasn't without a little bit of truth to it. Miguel was more than happy to make you do what he wanted; he just wanted to know whether or not your intentions were to play hard to get, or if you really were going to get changed before sleeping.

That's Exactly what you wanted to hear, "Make me then," you challenged him. Miguel was only too happy to oblige. Before you could even blink, he had caught you in a firm grasp. One of his hands was wrapped around your waist, while his other hand gently caressed your neck. His forehead gently touched yours as he looked into your eyes; they were like the sun, warm and radiant.

"You really wanna play hard to get?" Miguel said, a smirk spread across his lips. His voice was low and raspy, and you could see that he couldn't wait to play along with you.

"Absolutely..." You said squirming away from his laxed grip. You managed to escape from his hold, and dart across the bedroom attempting to get away from the superhuman you have as a boyfriend.

"Are you really doing this?" Miguel said annoyed as he caught up to you.

This time, he pinned you against the wall as he leaned into you. "You have nowhere to go," he whispered into your ear. His tone was suggestive but not too revealing, and his hand still caressed your neck as he leaned in to you.

"I guess not, huh?" Your eyes flutter relishing in the fact that you felt his full weight pressed against you. His chest pressed up against your bare soft mounds. You reached out and cupped his jawline ever so tenderly admiring him. You loved to touch his stubbles. His full lips were just centimeters away from yours. You felt his hot breath brush over your cheeks, nose, and lips. Miguel didn't let you speak. When you reached up to his face, he leaned in and kissed you. His lips pressed against yours, and it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. It was deep and soft, yet there was a spark behind it that let you know how eager Miguel was.

Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist, and he pulled you in even closer to him. One of his hands went to the small of your back, and you felt a tingle run down your spine. His kiss became firmer as the moment went on, and he became more and more eager.He leans down, pressing his warm lips against yours again. His tongue slips past your teeth, exploring the wetness of your mouth. He tastes your sweet nectar, savouring the flavor. He moaned into the kiss, his hands moving to your hips as they grind together. You push your hands into his hair, holding him close as you press your bodies together. You could feel your nipples hardening, and you could practically taste the need between both of you. Your dainty arms snake around his big shoulders and neck.

"I want you," you breathlessly murmured against his now bruised lips, "Please, please, please…"

"What do you want me to do, Cariña?" Miguel asked as he broke away from you for a moment and stared into your eyes.

His eyes were full of love, longing, desire, and passion as he stared into you. When he kissed you again, there was so much longing that it was overwhelming. You had never been kissed with this kind of love, and it felt incredible.

Miguel was experienced in rigging up ties. It came along with his superhero responsibilities since he developed spinnerets in his arms. He sat back a little bit rubbing his fingers along his stubbles lost in thought. And wondered what kind of ties would suit the woman before him. Knowing you well now he knows you loved to be chased and tied down. You loved surrendering yourself to him. Granting him permission to anything to your body, as long as you were safe and comfortable with it.

"What are you waiting fo-" you blurt out loud pulling Miguel out from his train of thoughts. He stuck his fingers in your mouth before you can even finish your sentence. Dark brown eyes were looking down at you, "How are you so pretty and impatient?" His gaze darkens admiring how well you suck his fingers down. He chuckled at the way you looked at him in disbelief when your sentences were interrupted.

"I'm just thinking," Miguel said with a smug smirk and paused for a moment before adding, "I have an idea for us now."

Your boyfriend is right. You were a gorgeous woman, but sometimes you could get a little impatient. You couldn't help it though it's because you missed him terribly. You couldn't help but blush as he complimented you about your beauty and your impatience. It felt as though you were always impatient when it came to him; he simply ignited a primal drive in you that you could never ignore.

He withdraws his fingers reluctantly from your mouth. "Oh, yeah?" you said with a grin. "What exactly were you thinking about? You definitely have me curious." You had an inkling of suspicion you knew what he had in mind; you could see it in his eyes.

"Stay." He orders you.

And you happily obliged laying back in bed stretching out your body as he shifted his weight off of you. He stalks towards the toy box that was at the foot of the bed. And retrieves some special toys in his possession. You stayed where you were, looking up at him as he retrieved the toys. You were curious as to what he was planning, but you couldn't help but keep your eyes on him as he walked to the toy box. His strong body was on full display, and no matter how many times you saw him, there was always something about his body that you couldn't help but stare at.

"Should I be scared?" You teased with a grin.

Miguel couldn't help but start chuckling as he looked at you. He looked down at you, amused by your comment. "Only a little," he chuckled, looking down at you with a grin. "Or maybe a lot." He gave you a kiss on the forehead, and he looked down at you as he gently grabbed your shoulders.

"I'm only kidding," he said with a smirk. "I couldn't hurt you even if I wanted to." He was always trying to take care of you, and he always wanted you to feel safe and protected.

You couldn't help but laugh at this. "Am I allowed to move now? Or do I have to be a good girl and stay put?" You teased, your eyebrows raising. You could see something in his eyes, and he definitely had something planned for you. You hadn't had this much fun in a while, and you couldn't wait to see what he had planned.

"Ven aquí," he motioned you to move to the edge of the bed with a finger curling in his direction. You bite your bottom lip sitting up immediately and scoot to him. Your bare legs dangling off the bed as you stay up looking up at his big clothed body with Doe eyes. "Good Girl," he praised. In his possession he had a black silk blind fold. Your heart pounding loudly against your ribcage, as you watched him lazily roll up his sleeves. You watched a sin unfold before you. He could hear it. The anticipation and discomfort he was causing poor little you. With his super hearing he smirked at the increased heart rate he caused you. He reached over your shoulders, his breath deliciously near your ear you squirmed, rubbing your legs together. He inhaled slowly through his nose, your scent tainting his senses. The man standing before has you absolutely riled up.

"We're going with the Traffic Light system," he promoted you, "Green means?"

"Good," You chimed in a little too quickly, "Yellow means easy. And Red is Stop." You blurted out the rest ready to get to the best part- him fucking you.

His chest rumbles as he chuckles, "Good Girl." He ties the fabric over your eyes, taking away your vision. You had to rely and solely depend on him.

He pointed his spinnerets at you and craftily tied you up in his crimson red web. You felt constricted and secured. The red web wrapped around your shoulders and bare chest, forming a star. And along and between your thighs he weaved and wrapped the silk web several times, where it stopped up just above your belly button and wrapped around the small of your back. You felt the web gently tug into your skin as you wiggled. "The more you move the tighter it gets" he reminds you, "Behave yourself." The rope also becomes loose if he tugs and twists it a certain way.

He tied you up so effortlessly, just like Spider-Man would do with his foes. You sat there, all tied up, your blindfold on, unable to see what he was doing. It was a rather unique experience; all you could do was sit there and let him do whatever he had planned for you.

"I'll be a good girl," you said as he finished tying you up. You were happy to play along with this little game, and you couldn't wait to see what he would do to you next.

"Excelente," he mused regarding his masterpiece with half hooded lust filled eyes. You felt him shove you back by the shoulders, and you flop back, your hair cascading around you on the linens. A nervous giggle escapes from your lips.

Miguel was so good at this. He used his powers to tie you up, and now you were completely vulnerable. You were still so attracted to him, even after all the times he had wrapped you up like this.

"You enjoy tying me up don't you?" You couldn't help but chuckle. You loved it when he dominated you in many different ways, and you wanted him to keep going. You looked forward to whatever he had planned next, and you would happily let him have the reigns.

"You look beautiful," you heard him say.

Your boyfriend had a way with his words. "Oh, thank you..." you said softly as you heard him give you that compliment. It always meant a lot coming from him, and you could tell he meant it when he said it. You both knew how much he meant it when he complimented you, and you loved him for being so genuine about it.

You could already feel those lustful feelings boiling over, and you knew he had something special in mind.

He reached over and grabbed a large white Wand. He kept it out of sight from you purposely when he received the blindfold. You hear an audible click followed by a buzz coming to life.

You could feel goosebumps slowly rise up on your skin as you heard the click and the buzz, and you weren't quite sure what exactly was going on. You couldn't help but notice a little bit of fear mingling within your excitement. What was he going to do to you? You couldn't wait to find out; you were eager to see what he had planned.

He tactfully places the vibrating wand on the outside of your thigh. You jerked from the sensation. "Gah!" You gasp wiggling away feeling the web grow snugger on your skin. You were quick to stop the movement, stilling yourself.

Miguel laughed at your quick reaction as you were distracted by the wand. He was surprised by how quickly you caught on to what he was doing, and he was impressed at your ability to follow his direction. You were definitely doing well so far.

"I'm very impressed," he said, smirking a little bit as he saw how well you were able to do as he directed. "You seem to be handling everything very well."

Lazily he glides the wand up and over your perky mounds. The web tied around your torso made them look more pronounced. You breath hitches and a small delicious whimper escapes your lips.

"Oh?" Miguel was surprised by the sound you made as he dragged the wand all over your body. He continued to drag it around, making the webbing tight every time he did. It wasn't painful, but it was uncomfortable, and you could feel every inch of your skin feeling it.

"How are you doing?" he asked, smirking at the sound you made. It wasn't a good sign, but he enjoyed your reaction as he tormented you.

"I'm great," you huffed trying to resist the urge to pull your bud away from his torturous touch.

"Oh," he said playfully. "I doubt that you mean it." He knew you were enjoying his torment, of course, and he was happy to be able to have this much power over you. He couldn't help but smile with a chuckle as he continued his little torture session, loving every second of it.

It accidentally drifted over your core. Miguel watched amused.

Miguel laughed. "Where did it move off to?" He was trying to tease you. He had been teasing you all along, but this was the first time he had teased you in a way that could be interpreted as a threat. He was glad that he had found this new way to torment you, and he was looking forward to watching your reaction.

Miguel was trying to make you break, but would you finally have the strength to do it? Or would you give into the pleasure?He managed to elicit several pretty noises from your mouth. The wand rested near your slit. "Miguel-" you plead desperately, withering away. Your face contorted in pleasure

Miguel leaned into you. He couldn't help but chuckle at you as he looked at you as you pleaded with him. He leaned in even closer and whispered into your ear, "What is it, Amor? Is something wrong?" He looked at your quivering body.

"I'm going to cum" you cried out to him, "Can't do this."

Miguel's eyes lit up, and he felt an air of excitement building within him. "Oh, are you sure?" he whispered. "It looks like you were having so much fun..." He smirked, giving you one last taunt. He was so close to finally getting a reaction from you.

You heard a loud click just between your legs. And all hell broke loose. The buzz grew louder and was stronger. Much stronger. Your back arched up feeling the web press tighter into your skin.

Miguel smirked as he watched your reaction. "Having fun, yet?" He watched you fight through the pain and the pleasure, and he loved seeing you react this way. He couldn't help but laugh as the tension between you two built and built.

"I think you should just give in," he said softly.

"But you're going to punish me," you wailed, breathing harder with every moment that passed. You don't have to see him to know he had a condescending shit eating grin on his face. You could hear it in his voice as he coaxed you to give in. It was a trap and you knew better. Your body kept tensing up, you carefully try to move your body in a way that didn't trigger the webs to constrict you. Miguel noticed and pressed just a little bit harder on to your core.

Miguel couldn't help but smirk; he was loving the way you were reacting to his little punishment. He enjoyed tormenting you, and he could tell that you were getting a kick out of it. Even if it hurt a little, you were clearly having fun.

"Oh?" he said, taunting you. "Are you scared now?" he laughed. "I can be much worse if I wanted to. Would you like that?"

"Yes, yes, please"

Miguel smirked. "Oh, is that so?" he asked. He continued to drag the wand all over, enjoying the reaction he was getting from you. Every time you squirmed, he knew he had found something that worked. He would give you a little more of it, enjoying your reaction as the web tightened around you and the wand continued to tease you.

"Is this better?" he asked. "Or should I give you a little more?"

Your tears pricked the corner of your eyes darkening your blindfold. You felt a small lump form in the back of your throat feeling it get tight. Maybe you shouldn't have begged for more. The handsome devil who taunts you watched in amusement. Miguel knew if you didn't want this you would have said a color by now. He leaned over your tied up beautiful body. His dark chocolate eyes devour the carnal sight. The web tightens in just the right spots. You didn't hear it but you definitely felt it. The wand abruptly stops its little sadistic ministrations gone. His calloused rough palms caresses your quivering body, his fingers tracing along the web. He made sure it didn't cut off your blood circulation. You jumped at his sudden tender touch.

"Better?" he asked. "How are you feeling?" Miguel was getting some sort of pleasure out of watching your reaction, and he couldn't help but smile at you once he stopped. He continued to run his hands over you, his fingers moving softly along the web. He leaned in, as his lips brushed against your ear and he whispered into it, "I love watching you struggle."

Miguel was happy that he had managed to push you this far; you were so easy to torment. He loved having this much power over you, and he loved using it to test every limit you had. He knew that he had pushed you to your limit, and he was curious to see whether or not you would reach it.

Your body trembled slightly as he touched you, and you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a few moans. You weren't quite sure why you were reacting this way, but you knew that you were enjoying it. You were happy to play whatever games Miguel wanted you to, and you could already feel yourself getting wetter.

"I want to make you feel good," you confessed, feeling guilty that he was tending to your desires. You hadn't done anything to show him your love and appreciation. You strained your ears to hear him, the echoes of the wand still lingered in your eardrums. "Hermosa," His rough fingers curled around your chin holding you in place. Even though your vision was robbed from you; you certainly felt his gaze on you. And you were right Miguel's breath brushed over your lips his eyes fixated on

"I love it when you call me that," you admitted, your voice breaking a little bit. He could tell you were trying to stay strong, but he could also tell that you were close to breaking. Was that his goal this whole time? To push you just close enough to break you? You would definitely learn a lot about yourself if your boyfriend managed to get you to scream for mercy again.

As Miguel held onto your chin, you could hear his voice come close to your ears. "What do you think you deserve, my love?" he whispered.

"I deserve you." You whisper back so quietly you were unsure if he heard you. Your body shook in waves sending small tremors to your hands and feet.

"Oh, do you now?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement as he held your chin. "Do you think you truly deserve me?" Miguel was going to make you earn his affection, and he was looking forward to the challenge. He was certain that you wouldn't be able to keep yourself together much longer.

He couldn't help but smile as he spoke, knowing exactly what it meant to you. He enjoyed knowing how much power he had over you. "How would you prove it?" he whispered.

"I want you in my mouth," you sobbed tears begin to stain the blindfold, "I want you to feel good too, Miguel."

Miguel smirked. It was clear that you were close to breaking, and he couldn't help but continue to push you further. He was enjoying himself, and he couldn't help it. It was almost as if he couldn't help himself from tormenting you in this way. Miguel was loving every second of this.

You begged for him, and he laughed in excitement. He looked forward to punishing you in more ways to get you to beg for him. "Oh, is that so?" he asked, his smugness obvious.

"I guess it can't be helped," he sighed. You felt the bed shift and he was no longer near you. The sound of jingling metal could be heard. The bronze being slowly removed his belt and along with his jeans. His package stood up loud and proud, clearly triggered by your pleas. He then rid himself of the black button up by tossing it away. He stalked back to you a little disappointed you couldn't admire his body but that was fine. He tossed his brown locks back with his fingers and crawled back to you. His tawny lips trailed from your toe to your heels. Apologetically kissing the sore that formed from dancing earlier tonight. He worked his way up to your ankle and shin reaching your knee. He nipped at your plump thighs, careful not to puncture you with his fangs. You felt blissful.

As Miguel leaned in, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming amount of pleasure. His touch was so delicate, and he seemed so concerned with you. You could feel every part of yourself begin to relax, and you could feel every inch of yourself come alive with pleasure. It was a stark contrast to the pain you had felt just a moment ago. You were so happy that he was touching you.

Miguel was surprised that you were already falling for him again, but he didn't hold it against you. He continued to move up your body, taking his time and being as careful as possible.

Ever so slowly he worked his way up to your breasts. Admiring how you melted under him. He kissed your puffy sensitive mounds. His full lips tantalizingly traced up from your collarbone to the crease of your neck. He fingers tweak at your peaks earning more pretty noises from you.

"Hermosa, a donde mi quieres?" He huskily groaned in your ear.

"M-my mouth," you meekly answer.

Pleased and satisfied with your answer, he crawled up your body, both knees rested on both sides of your head caging you in. He placed your arms above your head and shifted enough to pin them down with his knees. He grabbed his gifted package with its crimson, angry, big tip. He traced it around your lips. Precum coating your mouth like lipgloss.

"Are you going to suck me off like a good cumslut?" He coos cruelly to you.

"Yes, Sir," you part your lips, your tongue out desperately waiting for him to stuff your mouth full.

A low groan escapes from him. "Open your fucking throat," he hissed. He forced his heavy cock all the way to the back of your hot warm mouth. "Mierda, is this what you wanted?" he was going to remold your throat to his size once again. He hated having to do this to you, but he did work a lot and now he was going to make up for the loss of time. His hips rock steadily, finding a rhythm suitable for both of you.

You happily obliged, gagging down and slurping him up. Miguel chuckled. Was this really it? It was what you wanted, but he was expecting you to keep going. He was expecting it to get louder. He was expecting to be able to hear you scream just a little more, but he could tell that you were already broken. Miguel growled deep in his throat as you opened your mouth wider, allowing him to slide deeper. You loved the feeling of having him fill your entire mouth, and you did your best to swallow every inch of him. You felt his girth stretching your cheeks, and you loved the sensation. It made you feel powerful and sexy, and you didn't mind one bit.

"Maybe we should move on to something else," he said.

Desperately you lapped at his thick cock, you had already memorized where his veins were warped decoratively. In hopes that he would keep cock there for you to enjoy just a little bit longer. Drool and precum ran down your chin.

Miguel chuckled. He stopped thrusting into your mouth. You were so eager to please him. He couldn't help but be amused by you as you continued work on his cock, enjoying the pleasure. He enjoyed seeing you beg for him, and he was happy to have power over you.

He wanted to push you beyond your limits, and he was going to do it. "Do you really want my cock in here?" he asked. "Or do you want something more?"Your mouth was stuffed full with him.

At this point you didn't even care anymore. He had your arms pinned above your head. Your head is trapped between his muscular thighs. You just wanted him and whatever he gave you you would gladly accept it.

"Answer me." He withdraws his cock.

But you moved your head up stubbornly trying to take him back into your mouth. Oh no, he wasn't having that. He wrapped his entire hand around your pretty neck and forced you down, choking you.

"Ahora," he growled.

Miguel couldn't help but laugh. Your response was expected, but he had been hoping for an answer that would lead him down a different route. He couldn't get over how easily you were willing to bow down to him. It was like he was the king, and you had to bow down to him. He enjoyed feeling that way, and he was certainly going to utilize it more.

Miguel leaned in close to your ear, and he whispered to you, "I want to make you feel good. How can I do that?" he asked softly a stark contrast of how he handled you.

"Do whatever you want, Love, please" you cried "I just want you." And with that a sinister light bulb went off in his head. He retrieved the white wand while turning slightly and placing it on your puffy clit. He aimed a spinneret at your thigh causing the wand to stick there. Miguel couldn't help but smirk. You were an easy woman to please. He continued to enjoy pushing you, and he liked testing your patience. He got an air of smugness about him, and he couldn't wait for the next step.

The man leaned back slightly. He got an excited look in his eye as he realized what the wand would allow him to do. He couldn't help but smirk, looking forward to seeing your reaction. Miguel loved watching your reaction as he turned on the wand, but he did feel a little guilty. He didn't like to see you in pain, but he loved seeing you struggle. The wand was just the right mixture of the two, and he had gotten you right where he wanted you. You were trapped, unable to escape, but you could still feel all the pleasure the wand was giving you.

Miguel watched you continue to squirm and moan, and he smiled. He loved that he was able to do that to you. It only made him want to torture and pleasure you more.

You felt a familiar knot form in your stomach. " I'm gonna cum." You sobbed, "'nna cum. Just fuck me."

"Oh, are you?" he asked softly, looking down at you in amusement. He had been hoping for a reaction, but he didn't expect this. He smiled at how easily you had taken to his plan. Miguel loved that he could turn you on so much. His smirk grew, but he didn't say anything back, just kept on looking down at you.

He knew exactly what you meant, and he had the power to give it to you. He loved the way he would keep you on your toes; it made him feel powerful and in control.

You squeezed your eyes closed. The vibrator was the end of you. Your body slowly arched up on its own even with him pinning you down with his weight. Miguel quickly caught on and slipped his large swollen cock his back into your mouth. He thrusted it down your throat along with your air. And the coil in your belly finally snapped. A heady, broken moan wraps around his dick struggling to move past your stuffed mouth. Your eyes rolling back as you trashed from the fierce orgasm ripping through you.

"Take it, take it," he growled, pounding balls deep against your chin.

The way your throat tightened around him sent them over the edge. He dumped his cum all in the back of your poor throat. That's all you could do just take his length as you convulsed in pure pleasure. His cock was halfway out and his hand moved around it to pump more out.

"Keep that mouth open and Don't fucking swallow it." He spat warning you fangs on full display. The shiver that went down your spine from the way he barked his order was surreal.

Your mouth was filled with his white creamy relief. And you weren't allowed to consume a single drop. He was mesmerized admiring his handy work.

"Swallow it, Hermosa."

You did.

"Don't waste it or I'll fuck it back into your throat." Your chest heaved as you gasped for air, feeling his cock rest against your wet cheek.

"Show me." He ordered. Your mouth parts wide open showing him what a good girl you are for him. You swallow every last drop he gave you. Miguel smirked to himself, very content . You were such a good girl for him, and he couldn't find anyone else that would suit him like you did. You were the perfect girl for him, and he would treat you the way you deserved. He turned off the wand strapped to your thigh and pressed up against your pussy.

"You're such a good girl, my little Hermosa," Miguel purrs, pleased with you. "I'm so proud of you."

"You are?"

"Of course I am," he smiled. "There isn't anyone else I'd want but you." Miguel's smirk grew. You were amazing, and he could barely hold back his grin. "You're everything I've ever wanted."

Miguel loved you so much. He would do anything you ever asked. But now wasn't the time to talk about his love for you, as he was going to keep pushing you. He was still hard and ready to go.

Miguel rolled you over on all fours, putting you in a vulnerable position. You couldn't escape now, no matter how hard you tried. He had the power, strength, and he was going to use it. This was a different kind of pleasure, and he was going to enjoy it. Miguel looked forward to seeing just how far he could push you.

"I haven't even fucked all your holes yet," he snickers. Miguel grabbed hold of you by the red web and pulled you towards him. Your bottom up in the air, and your arms holding you up. He flipped on the wand that was still attached to your leg. "Ah-" your arms gave out. Your breasts fall to the bed making a deep arch for him.

"I can't take it," you wailed from the overstimulation on your poor swollen clit. You huffed anxiously unsure if you were ready to do this. Maybe you're in over your head. You should have just changed into your pajamas and gone to bed.

He coos tenderly, "Shh..." He pulled you out from your unfocused and chaotic cluster of thoughts with his deep voice. You feel his rough calloused palms caress your rear in soothing circles.

"Cálmate, you're doing so well for me." He pressed a kiss on your plump ass cheek. As soon as you settled down some more he gave you another reassuring kiss on your cheek. He lined up his large hefty package with your drooling entrance. "Take a deep breath for me," he coached. He plunges into your vibrating slit. "You feel so fucking good, Hermosa." Miguel groans.

He felt his self control slowly drift away. You winced at the sting in your lower belly hurting as he sheathed himself all the way inside. The tip of his enormous length kissing your cervix greedily. He peppered kisses on your shoulder blade to distract you from the pain. Your folds clenched him tightly, sucking him in deeper.

"Fuck Miguel-"

"I know, I know. You can handle it. This is why I don't like being away from you," he says, "Cause now I have to stretch you out all over again " He told lies.

He loved the way you felt. His favorite part was retraining your body to take him again. He pulled out gritting his teeth as your walls desperately clung to him.

"You're sucking me back in," he hissed, withdrawing his dick.

He thrusts back harder into you starting a rough pace for you to take. He repeatedly pulled your ass by the red web back to meet his hips. Your blind fold loosens from his fervent movement and friction from your cheek rubbing the bed under you, finally slipping off your eyes. Tears fall out the corner of your eyes landing on the sheets. Your vision was absolutely blurry; you could see nothing but stars flooding your space. Your fists gripped the cover for dear life while your lover indulged himself.

He made you cum for the Umpteeth time. "Que Rica estas," he growled pounding away at your vibrating pussy. Skin on skin echoes throughout the bedroom. The large white wand is still buzzing away at your poor throbbing cunt. You lie there a moaning mess with broken sobs. Drool pools out your mouth soaking the sheet. Miguel's crimson red eyes lock fixated on where you two were connected. He was mesmerized by the way your cunt swallowed him whole. He loves the white frothing ring you created on his slick covered cock. He adored your fucked out expression as his heavy balls pat aggressivly against your pussy's lips.

"Dame una mas," he grunts, snaking an arm around your waist to get between your legs, feeling for your clit. He starts spelling his name on your clit, as if to remind your body who it belongs to. Him. Your lower belly feels full, a knot forming as Miguel summons another oragasm with his cock and fingers. He grabs a fist full of your hair forcing you to look at him. "Look at me,"

You looked at the feral sex god who fucked you from behind. His hair was a mess. Strands of his dark curls were sticking to his forehead. His sun kissed body glistening in sticky sweat. His fangs were visible and holy hell his eyes were red. This is the other version of him that you also loved and cherished dearly as well. His primal and animalistic side that he tried so hard to hide around you. When he was caught in the heat of the moment this version of him would come out. Miguel felt an overwhelming sense of pride. He had you right where he wanted you - a shivering mess on the bed, broken yet wanting more. He couldn't stop leering as he watched your tear stained face twist in pleasure, and he laughed. This was his element, and he was going to enjoy it as much as he could.

Miguel looked down at you in amusement, his smile growing even larger, he rubbed against your vibrating clit. He felt your walls around him squeeze tighter and tighter with every thrust. "Look at me when you fucking cum." He sent you over the edge once again, muscles spasming uncontrollably around his length. Your eyes rolled back, as more tears ran down your face. He loved your cock drunk face. It was that expression alone that sent him over the edge with you. He slams his pelvis into your ass with a wet audible smack. His chest sinks into your back pressing you further into the mattress. His low groan fills your ears with filthy Spanish profanities. He painted your cunt white and filled it up more. You felt a steady stream of liquid squirt out from you and run down your thigh. Every orgasm you have will be associated with him. The man knew how to condition your cunt. He sloppily kissed your tears as you cried out squirming under him.

"No more. I can't take it anymore." You wailed to him.

Miguel kissed your tears away as you squirmed. He couldn't stop himself now; he had to push further. He wouldn't stop until you broke, and this was just another step he was going to take. He would put you back together again after you broke as he has done many times before. He smiled down at you as you cried, taking satisfaction in his work. Miguel sighed slightly. He wasn't ready for you to give up yet. He wanted to push you, and you just gave in so easily. Miguel wanted more. He wanted to make you beg for him, and now you were just giving up. Miguel sighed again and shook his head as he flipped onto your back.

Miguel sat up. "Are you sure?" he asked. A smile grew on his face. "Are you sure you're done with this?" His voice was soft and sweet, but his eyes had that intense fire behind them, ready to push you further. He huffed and shook his head down at you as he laid you on your back under him.

"If you want me to stop then use your safe words." He challenged you. He knew you. If you really wanted him to stop you would have already called out a color. Miguel called you out on your bullshit. He leans down burying his face in the crook of your neck gently sucking at your sensitive skin.

"Say a color." He coaxed into your neck. You bit your bottom lip. Miguel's voice was so close to your skin. He couldn't help but smirk as he leaned into you more, his teeth just barely touching the soft skin of your neck. His breath was hot against your skin, and it felt so good. Miguel enjoyed himself as he took in the aroma of your body. His eyes closed, and he loved what he had done to you.

Miguel pulled away, and smiled at you. "You still want me to stop?" he repeats. "Use your safe word if you really want me to."

You felt your face heat up once again. "Green." You moaned as he returned to nip on your breasts now.

"That's what I thought." He replied smuggly.

Miguel continued to look up at you with a mocking smile, knowing what you wanted him to do.

"So what do you want me to do?" he asked innocently.

Miguel knew what you wanted, but he wanted you to be specific. You had said the word, but he wanted to hear you ask him. Miguel loved making you beg.

"Keep going," you snapped at him, obviously annoyed with Miguel, your patience now gone, feeling too worked up.

"Hey, are you giving me attitude?" His brows furrowed and eyes narrowed down on you.

Your heart skipped a beat in fear of dealing with more intense treatment from your lover.

"Please, please, please," you punctuated with kisses on his lips desperately trying to convey your wishes to him, "Keep going, please. I need you." Your dignity and pride was nowhere in sight.

"That's my Good Girl," Miguel praised you. Miguel watched you, and he felt a wave of satisfaction run through him. You looked so cute right now. Your hair is a mess, your lips bruised , and your neck pink and purple with hickies. He enjoyed seeing you beg for his attention. Miguel had you exactly where he wanted you, and he would never let you go. Once you begged him, there was no taking it back. He felt powerful, and he enjoyed every second of it. He ripped off the wand from your thigh and flipped it off.

Miguel's smile only grew as he watched you try to appease him. You really wanted him to keep going, and he was going to give it to you. He kisses each of your knees as he places them over his broad shoulders. Miguel's heart was racing. He enjoyed this so much. He wasn't going to be satisfied until he had you completely ruined and it would happen eventually. But for now? He would enjoy this moment. Miguel couldn't stop smiling down at you as he continued to press kisses into your knee. You looked so beautiful under him. Your legs parted nice and wide for his eyes only. Your juices mixed with his slowly pour out your sore cunt. "So wasteful" he mutters, stuffing the liquid back inside with his thumb. Miguel kept grinning while watching you writhe and squirm. There was no stopping him now. He had control over you, and he wasn't about to let go. He plunges back into your warm depths. Reaching deeper than before. A heavenly sigh parts from his lips, his half-hooded eyes lock on to yours.

You whimpered pathetically under him, "You're going to be the death of me..."

And soon he begins to move as one with you. Miguel's smile grew broader. He was in control, and he enjoyed every second of it. You would always be his. He didn't want anything besides that. He didn't want to let you go, and he didn't deserve to let you go. Miguel just kept pounding away.

"Is that a bad thing?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

He kisses you as hard just he fucks. Both of your teeth messily clack against each other.

Miguel felt alive as he kissed you again. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have someone like you. No one else could compare. Miguel's eyes closed, and he kissed you with everything he had. He wanted to feel as close to you as he could; he was finally in the heaven that he deserved. Miguel knew this was what he wanted, and he would never let it go. Your pussy was soaking wet accepting everything he gave you with ease. He had you almost folded in half knees touching your breasts. You're a sight for him to cherish and ruin.

"I'm gonna fill this pussy up," He growls at a quickening pace. He heavy balls scrunch up with each harsh rut.

"Tómalo, tómalo, toma todo lo que te doy." He's slurring up his words in a heated frenzy state.

His cock burst filling you up even more. He curls in forcing his sperm further up your cervix. Miguel swallows your cries messily with his hungry mouth. Your legs trembling over his shoulders, your eyes glassy with new tears. He gently removed your legs from up his shoulder down to his waist.

He refused to remove his cock from your full pussy.

"I want you to be mine," he urged, "All mine. I'm gonna knock you up," He leaned down and kissed your forehead. Images of you with a large swollen belly flash through his head. He could have you waddling around his workplace letting everyone know you were off limits. Breasts spilling out as you breast fed his baby.The one you both created together. But the idea of one child isn't enough for him, maybe two or four little ones running around the house. He could have his own kids and rub it in Peter B Parker's face.

You could tell that Miguel had been thinking about what your future together might look like, and you were happy to hear that he wanted you to be a part of it.

" I'm yours," you answered softly, feeling overwhelmed with happiness and adoration. You wanted your life to be tied to his in every way. You wanted nothing more than to be the woman who gave him children and made him happy. The thought of having his babies filled you with joy, and you wanted to do anything and everything to make that happen.You had never felt this way about anyone before. You couldn't imagine a life without him, and the thought of starting a family together was intoxicating. You wanted to give yourself to him entirely, and you were ready to surrender to the passion and emotion that you shared. You wanted to be his perfect partner and the thought of having his child was an incredible concept. You were willing to do anything for him, and you wanted him to know that.He finally softened and removed his cock from you. He ripped the red web off from your body effortlessly like tissue paper.

You had been through a lot with Miguel, and now it was time for some after care. After all, you had both pushed yourselves to the limit and it was important to take some time to relax and enjoy the pleasure you had just shared. He cradled you in his arms, gently kissing your head and face. He stroked your hair and held you close, wanting to provide comfort and reassurance. You could feel his heart beating, and you felt safe and secure in his embrace. You knew that he would take care of you and protect you, and that made you feel even more loved.

"Amor don't fall asleep," he murmured into your locks. "I'll get the bath started." He gets out of bed and stalks to the bath. The water roars to life filling up the tub. Steam could be seen escaping from under the door frame. He came back into the bedroom and lifted you up in his arms. He carried you to the bathroom and placed you in the bathtub. He held you close, supporting you in the steamy, warm water. You were still feeling the effects of everything that had just happened, and you were glad to be held and taken care of. You felt safe and secure, and you appreciated the love that Miguel was showing you. You felt like you would never want to leave that bath tub, and you hoped to always be kept in a bubble of safety and comfort.

"Hermosa, how do you feel?" He asked carefully massaging soothing circles into your shoulders. His fingers work their way along your body. You felt the tension start to leave you as Miguel's hands began to rub your shoulders, working away the stress and muscle soreness. The hot bath had helped ease your sore muscles, and you finally began to feel calm after everything that had happened. Miguel was there for you, holding you close and comforting you, and you were grateful for his presence.

"I'm fine," you choked back fighting tears.

"No,no, sweetie give me more," he pauses as he wraps up you with his arms pulling you back into his chest. "What's on your mind?" He sensed something was troubling you, but he wasn't sure if it was the sub drop from the intense session you two had together.

"You want to have kids with me?" You quietly questioned him.

Your question made Miguel startle, but he didn't hesitate to give you an honest answer. "Of course," he said. "I love you and I want to be with you forever. I want us to start a family together, and I want us to build a life together. I want us to have everything that we could ever dream of." His words brought a smile to your face, and you felt a weight being lifted from your shoulders. You felt hopeful and optimistic, and you were glad to have such a loving and supportive partner by your side.

Part two is out!

#miguel ohara #miguel x reader #migueloharasmut #ATSVsmut #spiderman 2099 #Dom! MiguelOhara #Top!MiguelOhara #MiguelOharaxReadersmut #Miguel O'hara Smut #Miguel O'hara x reader #Dom!Miguel O'hara #miguel O'hara oneshot

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frenchkisstheabyss · 11 months

Text

♡ ａｔｏｍｉｃｂｌｏｎｄｅ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!mingi x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: Comforting your boyfriend after he gets a new look gets you into trouble but the good kind.

♡ Genre: smut w/ a dash of fluff

♡ Word Count: 1.4kish

♡ Warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (ya'll know better), creampie, a lil spanking, scratching, nibbling, some rough play (nothing major), pet names (baby, my girl, etc).

♡ A/N: Mingi's wrecking me and I am not okay. Just FYI.

@anyamaris save me from myself

“You hate it” Mingi sighs, staring at his choppy blonde hair in the mirror. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision to take a pair of scissors to his hair. He had no plan going into it. Only that he needed to do something…anything…different to get out of his own head. But you can see it all over his face that he's second-guessing it. Stepping into the bathroom, you dodge the clumps of fire-red hair scattered across the tiles, to get a closer look at your boyfriend’s new hair. “I love it” you smile sweetly, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet.

Mingi watches you in the mirror for a moment, skeptical. He tousles his hair, trying and failing to style it. “It’s okay. You don’t have to lie.” You grab his arm, turning him to face you. “Hey, look at me,” you say, momentarily losing yourself in those gorgeous pools of sable he calls eyes, “When have I ever lied to you?” Mingi cracks a faint smile, his lips pressed together to keep him from full-on cheesing. “Never.” You play with his hair a bit, gathering them into small spikes. “Exactly. I think it looks pretty hot. I’d definitely throw my panties at you.”

Your comment gets a laugh out of him precisely as you intended. All you ever want to do is see that adorable smile of his. It’s your favorite thing in the world. Sometimes Mingi gets down on himself, wondering if he is, in fact, good enough in one way or another. When you feel that way, doubt weighing heavy on your shoulders, he makes sure to remind you how special you are. “Yesterday, today, and tomorrow” he likes to say. A small reminder that you were, are, and always will be perfect in his eyes.

Pinching his cheeks, you plant a quick kiss on his peachy lips. “Yesterday, today, and tomorrow, remember?” Mingi nods, feeling all of the blood rush to his cheeks. He turns back to the sink, rubbing his cheeks to chase that rosy hue away. “Anyway…” he mumbles, shifting his focus to cleaning up his mess. “Anyway?” you scoff, rolling your eyes, “I’m glad we could have such a touching conversation. I have to get started on dinner. I’m out of here.” You walk off with your arms folded across your chest and your nose in the air. As fake offended as a girl could ever be.

You make it a few steps down the hall before Mingi’s behind you, his arms around your chubby figure as he trails kisses along your neck. “What was that you were saying about throwing your panties at me?” You giggle, your body wriggling against his, “That’s what you got out of what I said? Really?” You never wear pants around the house, a habit he’s grateful for when he easily squeezes your fluffy thighs. It tickles enough that you twist away from him, stumbling backward. “Mingi…I have things to do!” He raises an eyebrow at you, taking one step forward for each one you take back.

“So do I.” “Aah!” you squeal, being pulled into an intoxicating kiss. Even with your eyes closed, paralyzed by the artful way his tongue dances with yours, you’re seeing stars. Holding you firmly by the hips, he guides you into the bedroom without even looking. Your shirt’s being pulled up over your head before you make it through the doorway with his following right behind. When he gets like this he has a one-track mind. Nothing else matters. He only wants one thing and it’s you. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you run a hand across his lean chest, the other palming his thick bulge through those godforsaken gray sweatpants.

An invention by the devil if there ever was one. Mingi’s knees nearly buckle from the unexpected friction. Each time you brush your palm against him he gets harder and the warmth between your legs intensifies. By the time his sweatpants are at his ankles, his leaking tip on your tongue, he’s throbbing. Placing your tongue on the underside of his head, you lick upward, collecting his precum on your tongue. Mingi pets your cheek, watching intently as you take him into your mouth, your warm, tight lips hugging his length with no room to spare. “So…fucking…beautiful,” he says, each word broken by the flutter of your cheeks.

There’s something about feeling the pulsing veins of his cock through your cheek, your head rocking back and forth, that he can never get enough of. You gag the tiniest bit when he hits the back of your throat, knowing how insane it drives him when you take more than you can handle. He can already sense that familiar feeling prickling in his stomach. Shit, why were you so good at this? Mingi grabs you by the neck, not too hard, just enough to rip himself from your mouth with a wet suctioning noise. You look up at him so innocently, proud of being able to push him to the brink that quickly.

“Bend over” he commands, your gentle giant replaced with something more domineering. You slide back on the bed, spreading your legs to expose your moisture. “Only if you say please.” Without a word, he reaches out to stroke your clit through the thin lace. Your breaths grow shallow when his fingers push the fabric to the side, sinking into you until his knuckles are flush against you. “Please” he whispers, rotating his wrist at just the right angle to have you pushing against him for more only to snatch his fingers away, “Pretty…pretty…please”. “Mmhmm” you whine, tossing your panties behind you and getting on all fours.

This view of you is so tempting. That juicy ass of yours sticking out. Your pussy so wet and desperate to take him. Taking a deep breath, he gets his head together. Not yet. A marvelous sting radiates through your body when he palms your ass with a slap, pushing you forward to lap at your entrance. “Mingi, fuck, yes” you’re moaning and he’s thrusting his tongue into you. He brings his fingers back up to massage between your petal-soft folds. Each time your body quivers, pert nipples dragging against the bed heightening your pleasure, it only deepens his hunger for you. The way he’s devouring you, drinking you down like a man who hasn’t had water in days, has you screaming every filthy word you know into the sheets.

Shit. Fuck. Goddamn it. Motherfucker. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me” you cry out, nearly throwing a tantrum, an explosion brewing in your core. You feel his husky laugh vibrate against you. “What was that?” he taunts, flipping you onto your back and climbing on top of you. You lick yourself off of his lips, dragging him into a kiss. “Fuck…me” you moan down his throat. He drives into you, your body immediately erupting into shivers as your walls clamp around him. Your world's shattering. Your heart's racing. Is he trying to kill me? The room’s spinning. You’re lightheaded. I might be dying. Worth it.

“Is my girl gonna cum for me?” he’s almost singing, nibbling at your bottom lip. Your nails digging into his back is as close to an answer as he’s gonna get and it’s enough for his motions to grow harsher. Your ears are ringing, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Such a mess you’re making creaming all over him like this. “That’s it, baby. Mmm” he coos, keeping his pace even as the overstimulation tears you apart, but that doesn’t last long. Soon his motor skills go to hell and he’s pouring into you, whispering praises into your cleavage.

Your bodies go limp together, your muscles as strong as a pot of boiled spaghetti. Mingi flops down beside you, struggling to catch his breath. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your panties near your head. You pick them up, throwing them on his head. “There, I threw my panties at you.” “I’ll…treasure…these…forever” he pants, twirling them around his finger. You cozy up to him, resting your head on his chest. “You know, that’d be a nice color on you.” “Hmm?” You gesture towards your panties, “The pink.” Mingi stares at them, weighing his options. “Pink” he sighs, kissing you on the bridge of your nose, “I like it.”

#mingi x reader #mingi x you #mingi x y/n #ateez x y/n #ateez x chubby reader #ateez x reader #ateez x you #chubby smut #plus size smut #chubby reader #plus size reader

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0kayblue · 1 year

Text

Need You

You and Leon have been a little more than friends with benefits for awhile and he struggles with what he wants it to be.

Word count: 3k (almost 4)

Mentions of alcohol, slightly possessive Leon, over protective Leon, angst, fluff (??kinda??), happy ending, not proofread very well if it all.

A/N: HELLO!! How are you all doing? Good I hope. I’ve been gone for more than a hot minute. It took me a lot longer than what I thought it would to get back into the groove of things. With that being said, this is not that great. Kinda boring, but hey, sometimes things are boring. This is just kind of to get me in the groove of uploading and writing again.

Part three and request are in the works. They are coming!! I just need a little practice before I start actually going at it again.

With all my heart, I hope you are having a fantastic day!! Enjoy!!

Time had never moved so slow as Leon anxiously bounced his leg underneath the cheap break room table. His tired eyes glanced to the clock and then back down to the untouched styrofoam cup of coffee.

Leon hated a lot of things about his job, but at this moment debriefing was his least favorite. He detested having to explain everything that happened on missions before he officially had time to process how they happened to him. Not that he ever truly enjoyed thinking about the things he had to do in order to survive, but he liked to have an understanding on why he did this or that. Why he chose to go left instead of right.

He had just spent nearly three days fighting his way through the deep Rocky Mountains; B.O.W’s at every turn, and he didn’t even get the information he was expected to return with. The whole thing was a waste of his damn time. He was sent to follow a lead that only set the operation two steps back and whatever up and coming supervillain, or want to be Umbrella Corporation, or extremist cult one leap forward. All while defense was wounded and information scrounged for a thread to pull to loosen the seam on the shit show they were currently trying to clean up.

He was annoyed and beyond frustrated with everything. On top of the emotional stress he also was not in the best shape physically- it wasn’t anything major all things considered- but, broken ribs, internal bruising and external bruising causing almost his whole torso to be a deep purple almost gray hue, and the bandaged up gashes on his limbs and slight cuts on his face only kept adding straws to the camel's back. He felt like it was only a matter of time before he snapped, he felt like he could only sit here for a few seconds more before he stormed out the door and out of this damn stale sterile building that was too clean.

He took a deep breath before adjusting himself to sit up straight in the deep blue plastic chair. As he exhaled he closed his eyes and saw the face he’s seen behind his eyelids since he landed, desperate to see it in person. To touch the soft warm flesh of someone he could never get enough of, regardless of the fact that he tried so hard not to get addicted to. Each hit of you more potent than the last, each high allowing him to forget for a little longer, each graze of his skin against yours permitting him to daydream of a life he has always ached for. Even if you didn’t long for the same things he did, he saw you with everything he had ever wanted. It was cruel and yet he continued to do it to himself.

He had bought you a burner phone with his number and his alone. You were not to use the phone for anything other than to communicate with him. He had asked you to carry it with you at all times, lying and saying he didn’t bug it. He told you that with his line of work that it would make your meetings more secure, that it would keep you off the radar. In a lapse of poor judgment you took the phone and him up on his proposal to make him an official fuck buddy. Who could blame you? It was a scene straight out of a movie and boosted your ego. It made you feel special that someone so important took such an interest in someone like you. Someone who lived such an exhaustingly normal life. It kept you on cloud nine for at least a week and a half after receiving it.

It was a purely physical relationship that didn’t require any emotional attachment regardless of the deep emotions that sunk into the both of you too quickly for comfort. Each rendezvous lasted longer than the previous one. Him staying at your place for days, while you both interacted like domesticated adults. Not quite like a married couple, not as casual as friends, and nowhere near as uptight as roommates; it was such an odd relationship, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Oftentimes by the end of his stay he left you with more questions than answers. Your knowledge of his life was barley skin deep and you were left to piece it together from fragments he dropped you.

He on the other hand knew everything about you. He couldn’t help himself. All your information was at his fingertips; your past, your present, and a vague idea of your future. In hindsight he should have left it alone and maybe if he did he wouldn’t be stuck in this current predicament. Maybe wouldn’t be digging in his pocket for the phone that held only one contact number, a phone number that he had memorized even though he shouldn’t have. He leaned forward in the chair as he typed only two words.

‘Need you.’

He didn’t think about the impact they could have, he didn’t think of the weight they carried, he just sent the message. Not a part of him even considering the fact that you would think it was the truth. He needed you. Rather you are below him or watching some low brow television show that networks pumped out to dumb down the population. He just needed you within reach, he needed the comfort of your presence to ease the buzzing of the world he lived in.

He sat the phone on the table as he crossed his arms and sat back, anxiously awaiting a reply. He didn’t get a chance to glance at the clock before the phone buzzed against the table.

‘Busy.’

The message read and he couldn’t help but to scoff as his hand ran through freshly washed damp hair.

‘With what?’

He asked in his reply as he sent it. His jaw tightening in annoyed agitation. What part of need did you not understand? He took a deep breath and reminded himself of the nature of the relationship. As he went to follow up his demanding question with a meeting time and place the break room door opened and he shoved the phone back into his pocket.

“Mr.Kennedy,” A rather thin man with tired eyes and a disheveled navy blue suit sighed out, “I’m sorry, we know you are exhausted, we just have a few more questions. Can you stay for another thirty minutes? No more, no less.”

Leon forced a polite smile as he stood, “Lead the way.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Kennedy.”

“Please, call me Leon.” Leon insisted as he took the door from the man and just like that he followed the man down the hall and into an elevator; leaving behind a hot cup of coffee to grow cold on a cheap linoleum covered piece of wood where it would eventually be washed down the drain by night janitorial staff.

It had been an hour since Leon set foot in that room and not much of anything had come out of his answers. He was out of the building now and almost free as his hand found the handle of his car door, but a buzz in his pants pocket caused him to let go of it immediately. As he unlocked the phone he noticed he was left with a voice memo and not a message, which he found odd but not alarming. He couldn’t help but to smile, ready to hear your voice. He pressed play and heard the hustling of feet and an unrecognizable song in the background.

“She said she was busy, Le-on. Take a hint.”

A low masculine voice came out of the speaker as he gripped the phone. He pulled it away from his ear with a snarl as he looked at the phone screen. It took every fiber of his being to not shatter the phone right there; it took every remaining ounce of sanity that he had to not let this red hot anger consume him. This little voice in his head pleaded for him to think rationally.

He opened the car door and slammed it shut behind him as he got in, it was a miracle the car door window didn’t break from the force. He was quick to pull up your location and an airy laugh left him as he knew the location too well. A dive bar on the outskirts of the city, the same exact bar he had found you in. It was tragically comical.

He didn’t bother with a seat belt as he backed out of his parking spot and hit the gas and drove off after you. The speed limit was a mere suggestion as city lights passed him just as quickly as they appeared. He was livid as his knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. He was angry. He was angry that you had the audacity to be out with someone at the bar that he met you at. He was furious that you were busy with some asshole who had the nerve to address him by his first name. He was livid that he didn’t just leave work and go to you as soon as he landed. He was heartbroken because even though he was lost in this haze of consuming rage he had no right to feel this way. You weren’t his, but he was yours.

As Leon quickly pulled into the parking lot he parked his car with no regard to the faded white lines that were supposed to indicate parking spots. He left the car running as he slammed the car door shut, making a bigger scene than the screeching sound his tires made against the asphalt when he parked. He could feel the eyes of smokers burning a hole in his frame as he took quick strides to the front doors of the bar.

“Nice ride-.” A voice started but was cut off by the beep of Leon locking the car. Normally Leon would nod politely, but he didn’t bother to spare a glance to whoever made the comment. His brows furrowed and a glare that could kill adorning his face as he stepped into the warm bar.

“Hey!” Zack yelled, the bartender was shouting as Leon watched him scurry from behind the bar and over to a crowded table. Men and some women of varying ages were crowded around the table cheering. “Give that back! How did you even-?” Zack tried to reason as some guy held him back from the table. Leon proceeded with some caution as he approached Zack.

“Let it go, buddy. He’ll give it right back and pay for the shots as soon as he’s done.” A stranger said as he tried to keep Zack back. “He’ll even pay extra if this chick handles her liquor the way she says she can.”

That got Leon’s attention faster as he pushed his way closer to the front of the table. His eyes locked on your frame laying on the tabletop with your head leaning off the end as another guy poured vodka down your throat.

“Yeah! That’s what I’m talking about!” The man screamed before putting the bottle to his mouth and taking a shot straight from the bottle.

Your laugh rang through the bar as you began to try and sit up, but the man was quicker than you were as he bent down to meet you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders to keep you in place. His lips graze yours as he spit his shot into your mouth. Your throat burning as you tried to push him off of you. For a second you thought your weak effort was successful as his lips left yours, but when you gained some composure you heard the shattering of glass and saw people back away quickly from the table.

“Get the fuck off of her!” A voice yelled, that voice, you knew that voice all too well. You sat up as your eyes found Leon’s frame. His shoulders tense as they fell up and down with his labored breathing. His fist clenched and jaw tightened as he threatened in a deep low growl, “Touch her again and I’ll break your fucking spine.” He was in no condition to fight, he was barely standing. He was utterly exhausted and his limbs ached, but the angry adrenaline that coursed through his veins kept him upright.

“Leon.” You dryly got out as you sat up on the table. You repeated his name but he didn’t even glance in your direction.

“Leon? Jesus Christ. Look, she already-.” The man spoke and Leon recognized the voice immediately from the voice message. Leon’s eyes darkened with rage as he looked at this pathetic excuse of a man.

Busy.

“Where is her phone?” Leon asked as he roughly grabbed the man by his shirt collar, “Where is her damn phone?”

“Here, here! Take it!” The man shook as he pulled the phone out of his pocket and handed it to Leon. Leon snatched it from his hand before pushing the man roughly to the ground. Leon towered over him as the man shook, Leon’s unbridled rage causing the bar to grow freezing cold.

“Stay away from her.” Leon turned from the man and his gaze softened only slightly as it landed on you. Your eyes locked with his for only a moment before he avoided your gaze and approached you. His hand found your arm as he helped you off of the table. He wrapped an arm around your waist as the crowd parted like the Red Sea. All eyes were on the both of you as you walked out of the bar.

“I can take it from here.” You said agitated as you tried to push yourself away from Leon.

“I don’t care. I’m taking you home.” Leon said as he unlocked his car. That aggression he felt still resting on the tip of his tongue. He opens the passenger door and with a deep sigh you get in his car. After he just opened the door you took a deep breath before running your hand through your hair. A bottomless pit settled in your stomach before you sat back against the seat.

“Seatbelt.” You heard him say as he got in the car, pulling you out of your thoughts. You compiled as he started to drive out of the parking lot and turned right out of the parking lot.

You raise an eyebrow before looking at him and confusingly confront him, “You were supposed to turn left.”

“I said I’m taking you home. I know where I’m going.” Leon glared ahead and for once wished you wouldn’t say a damn word. He was heated.

“How did you know where I was?”

“Can you not ask questions right now?”

“No, because you’re freaking me out. First, you know where to find me and second, you hook a right when you know my place is left. Where are we going?” You stated in a matter of fact tone as you crossed your arms. You could tell he was angry, but you didn’t care because you were angry too. You never disclosed your location to him, he nearly started a fight, and he continued to treat you like you were something more to him regardless of the fact that he made it clear that you would never be anything more.

“My place. It’s closer and I’m too tired to drive further than what I have too.” He admitted as he sent you a quick glance.

“Your place?” You rolled your eyes, “You’re telling me that your place is closer and we’ve spent all this time at mine?”

“Yeah.” Leon sighed with irritation.

“How is that fair? How is it fair that you know all this shit about me, but I know nothing about you?” You asked flat out and annoyed. Normally after going an extended time without seeing Leon you didn’t ask any questions, you just tended to him until he was ready to talk. He loved that about you, you never pushed him. Leon grunted knowing that it was the alcohol and a mix of unconfronted emotions made you bold.

“We talked about this-.”

“Yeah, we did, but you tracking my location wasn’t in that conversation.” Leon took his eyes off the road as the car came to a stop at a stoplight and he looked at you. He opened his mouth to speak, to defend himself, but you cut him off. “Cut the shit, I know it’s a bugged phone. I had it looked at and your sudden appearance tonight only proved it.”

“It’s only bugged for your protection.” Leon got out through gritted teeth.

“My protection? What the fuck are you even talking about? If anything it’s so you can keep your whores straight and away from your wife.” You spit at him with venom. You knew Leon wasn’t the type of guy to run around town like that, he was a one woman type of guy. You were just angry and confused at why you would be enough to protect but not enough to be his.

Leon’s face turned up in pained disgust and he went to say something, but the blaring of a car horn called his attention back to the road and a green light. You huffed as you turned away from him and he continued to drive onward to his place.

The rest of the car ride was silent, giving you time to feel bad about what you said and how you said it. Your face falling and your anger simmering out as your eyes felt heavy with the weight of fresh tears threatening to spill. You refused to cry though as you sniffed and he pulled into his driveway.

A two story house that was too big for just him, but old enough for you to believe that it was a house that was left to him in some family members' will. Or he could’ve bought it himself easily with the way you’ve seen him treat money; like it was something that grew on trees. He was a complete and utter mystery to you and it drove you insane that you could still fall for someone who you knew so little about. At this point you were more mad at yourself than you were at him. You knew of his interests and hobbies, his likes and dislikes, you saw his heart; but you didn’t have a clue about his day to day life. It was like he existed only to you and no one else. No criminal record, no traceable family; he seemed to have nothing. All you had were snippets of an article about Raccoon City that left you with more questions than answers.

“Don’t worry, the wife’s not home.” Leon muttered through gritted teeth and you winced as he got out of the car. You went and got out of the car alongside him as you followed closely behind him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” He opened the front door and you followed him in, shutting and locking it behind you. Your body now shaking as his focus remained straight ahead. He was so cold and you knew you deserved it. “I know that’s not you. I just…” you hesitated as you could feel your throat beginning to clog, knowing that your voice was going to waver and your next words were going to come out broken if you didn’t get a grip.

“I’ve got a guest room, but I haven’t found time to clean it out so there is a bunch of junk and shit in there. You can take my bed and I’ll take the guest room.” Your heart broke, thinking he didn’t even want to be near you and you couldn’t blame him.

“I think we should call this off.” Your voice still broke as you said it and Leon quickly turned to you. His gaze softened immediately as soon as he saw your big glassy doe eyes. He stood frozen as his heart shattered. He was losing you and it wasn’t to some unforeseen force, he did this. His refusal to let you in completely had pushed you away.

Leon was a fighter, it was his job. He stood up for what was right, he fought for people who couldn’t fight for themselves, he fought so people who weren’t fighters never had too. But did he ever fight for his own selfish desires? At the end of the day was he willing to fight for the first good thing he’s had in his life for a while? At the bar he was ready. He was ready to push his exhaustion aside and fight the object that stood between him and you; but now? Fighting you, the person he desired the most.

“Look, it’s not anything personal…I just…this isn’t working for me.” You nervously blabbered out, the silence killing you. You took a deep breath as your hands found your hips, “I mean the Pretty Women aspect of it was fun, I had fun. I don’t know, I guess, I mean…” you stumbled over your own words.

“Alright.” He said and you looked away from him as your arms wrapped around yourself trying to comfort yourself. The floodgates of your tears threatening to spill as your eyes darted around the room.

“Okay. Good. I’ll sleep on the couch and grab a cab and be gone before the sun comes up.” You voice low as you head to the couch but Leon catches you by your elbow. The sudden connection of your bare skin against the palm of his hand sends a chill up his spine.

“I want to start again. I want to make it right.” He said as he slowly looked at you, his own eyes glassy. You study his face now and how exhausted he looked. “I’ll tell you everything. Let me start over. Let me make it right.” Your brows knitted together as you relaxed slightly and your other hand cupped his cheek. Tears fell from your eyes as you stifled a pained groan. “Please.” He begged and how could you say no?

Your lips found him in a hesitant kiss that he returned with desperation. The moment your lips sparked against his he was ready to fight again. His hand trailed down your arm and before it found your waist. He pulled you close to him as your arms wrapped around his neck. Sweet desperate kisses turned into feverishly hungry ones.

“Need you.” He admitted softly against your lips; hoping that you understood. Hoping that the feeling was returned. Hoping that right now that he said enough, that those two words meant enough. As you melted against him he knew that you understood.

For the first time in a long time Leon was ready to give his all to something besides work.

#resident evil leon #hayley writes a bit #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil fanfic #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #writing romance #writing angst #writing #romance #fluff??#i don’t even know #he’s just my baby

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kairiscorner · 6 months

Note

we're in the osamu era i see (　＾ω＾)

request coming up hehe (* ´ ▽ ` *)

can i request an teen/Inarizaki!osamu x gn!transfer student! reader where osamu falls HARD for reader the moment they step into the classroom and soon become friends by whatever reason u seem fits and one day osamu decides to give reader a bento box and after weeks of him giving reader bento boxes to try it leads to reader confronting him about it which leads to him confessing to them hehehebdnsvsn

ofc once again, pls take your time with this one as ik school can be overwhelming so pls make this at your own pace and don't rush <3

-sincerely, the 🧋 anon !!

mgee ... i'm in the iwaizumi headspace rn but RJSKNSIALAUWKSKWOWKSJ I NEED THIS RN !!!

*✧‧₊˚ they're the one. – osamu miya x gn!reader

"hey, um... is someone sitting here?" your honey-like voice rang out in his ears, he turned his head to look at you, his gray, smitten eyes that had the shapes of hearts in them from you. "um, no one's sitting there, y-yeah..." he mumbled, cussing at himself internally for sounding so lame. even though he didn't do much and just responded to your question, when he's around such an adorable looking face, he can't help but lose all his cool and just melt.

lunch is the only period when osamu can feel like himself, like nothing's holding him back from enjoying the food he was looking forward to eating all morning. before he could eat, though, that sweet, honey-like voice was heard again, coming from over his shoulder. "ooh, that's adorable! man, i'm jealous of your lunches..." you gushed, puffing your cheeks out involuntarily to show how jealous absolutely adorable you were. osamu's cheeks flared a bit and he cleared his throat. "well, um... weirdly enough, i'm not that hungry right now." he mumbled, taking his lunch box and handing it to you. "wanna, um... share?"

'ya fuckin' idiot, yer comin' off too strong!' he thought to himself as beads of sweat began to form on his forehead, his cheeks flaring up with a red, pinkish tint again. you clasped your hands together, and your eyes practically shone as you smiled widely. "are you serious? we can share?!" you beamed, over the moon now that he was willing to share his lunch with you. osamu nodded, looking away from you as his blush was worsening, hearing you get excited all over his simple, homemade lunch.

"if yer that discontent about the school lunches, um... i could, like... make you some." "you would?!" you exclaimed again, leaning a little close to osamu, who nodded slowly, looking away from you as much as he could. now if you couldn't notice his blush from earlier, surely, it had to be obvious to you now—but surprisingly, you hadn't noticed a glimpse of it, as slight embarrassment mixed in with your excitement at osamu's offer. "i appreciate it, but... wouldn't that be too much effort?" you asked him as he slowly shook his head. "i... don't mind." "well then, i'll help you any way i can for you! just say the word, i'll listen, i'll be there for you... sorry, what's your name?" "o-osamu." "what a cute name!" you beamed.

'fuck'.

osamu felt the heat in his cheeks worsen as you said that so casually, so brightly, without even realizing just what kind of effect you had on the poor boy. regardless, you two began this little exchange—where he'd make some bentos for you, and you'd help him out any way he needed; be it at school, acting as a helping hand in cleaning the classroom before and after school, walking with him after school, or just listening to his problems—osamu was so grateful for you being there for him, he felt like he was in an endless loop of falling for you, and falling for you even harder.

eventually, before the weekends rolled around, osamu decided to muster up the courage and hand you a special bento he was thinking of giving you for a long while now. as you two sat in the shade, he held the wrapped lunch box in his hands and contemplated with himself whether or not now was the time; but if he didn't give it now... he might never be able to have another chance to give it, so he might as well do it now. osamu called out your name, and when he got your full attention, he realized for the umpteenth time just how beautiful you looked up close—how charming and lovable your personality is, how much of a great friend you were ever since you transferred here... and how much love you made him put in all his meals for you, every day.

"this, um... this bento, i... i spent weeks trying to figure out just what to put in it, and, i know it sounds silly, but... i really wanted each ingredient that was in the making of this to really mean something to you." he confessed in stutters, his eyes darting back and forth, his cheeks reddening with every breath and pause. he handed you the bento and turned his head away from you, only darting his eyes back at you every now and then to see if you spotted his surprise.

attached to the cover of the bento box was a small brown envelope, with your name on it—it was... a letter of confession, of a love confession; osamu miya liked you. osamu miya loved you. you got all flustered at the thought after processing exactly what he meant; stammering your response back to him, but it was futile. you were both fumbling over your words, stammering, stuttering, and just acting all embarrassed and shy, like awkward teenagers that just really, really wanted to be with each other, but could never summon the courage to say so.

"i... i loved making those bentos for you, and... i think that wasn't just because i like cooking, that i like food... it was because... i liked you." he muttered out, blushing hard. you didn't respond verbally anymore, you didn't try to anymore–instead, you inched closer to osamu and shyly brought your fingers up to his own, smiling, and with a flustered expression on your face. "...and i really liked spending all that time with you, because... i really like you, too, samu."

'fuck. again.'

osamu blushed fiercely, his entire face looking like a ripe tomato, making you giggle and tease him for it. you took a piece of the food in the bento he made you and fed him, and this was like a dream come true for him; the sweetest, prettiest person who's made him head over heels in love with them... likes him back. he bit down on the utensil you used for a beat too long, still acting so, so shy–making you just want to lean over and peck a kiss on his forehead–and you did.

he immediately parted his lips and let your utensil go, blushing even harder. "...that... hey..." he mumbled, gasping as you kissed his forehead again. he could get used to it, especially now that you've found out just who and what his weakness really is: you and your affection for him, the main ingredient to the recipe to make him a melting, loving mess of the boy you adore.

#osamu miya #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya x you #osamu miya x y/n #osamu miya imagines #miya osamu #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x y/n #miya osamu x reader #miya twins #miya twins x reader #inarizaki #inarizaki x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines

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writeforfandoms · 6 months

Text

Waking Lions 19

Find the series masterlist

I am so sorry this is late, life has been lifing me real good recently. I'm hoping things calm down a bit now and I can get back on a more consistent schedule again. Especially this close to the end of the story.

You and Gray have a little talk. This is not going to end well for you.

Warnings: Gray is Unhinged (and not in a fun way), sadistic character, sadism, lowkey psychological torment, spy shit, swearing, hopelessness.

Word count: 1.4k

All the air had left the world. Your eyes started to burn as you stared at Gray, brain working incredibly slowly. You breathed in, everything snapping into hyperfocus.

Gray. Gray was here. He’d found you. He’d found you alone.

You were dead.

“Ace, now, is it?” he asked, conversational, as if you were old friends. He stepped up next to you, motioning you to walk a certain direction. He didn’t have a weapon in his hands, but you knew him too well.

He either had a gun on him, or he had someone watching from a discreet distance, ready to shoot you.

You were so fucked.

He paused when you failed to move, raising one eyebrow at you. Slowly. Letting you feel the weight of his judgment.

"Are you really going to push me to use force?" He kept his voice low, still falsely pleasant.

You eyed him. You had no idea how serious he was. You couldn't read him, fear clogging your brain, tinting your vision. So you took a step, a little slow, a little shaky. But you moved.

And he smiled.

"You gave me quite the hard time," he continued, matching your pace. "Finding you was more difficult than I had guessed."

You swallowed hard, hand sliding into your pocket. Thank fuck your phone was on the opposite side from Gray. It took a moment of cautious fiddling, but you got it recording. Just in case.

"I am impressed you have managed this long," he continued, still cool as anything. "I would have expected you to get yourself killed much sooner than this. But then, you did have help."

You swallowed again. No. He wanted to make you scared, make you suffer. You needed to take some control back. Even if only a sliver.

"What do you want?" You managed to keep your voice almost entirely even, only a slight waver at the end giving you away. But Gray already knew what kind of terror he instilled in you.

He chuckled, turning the two of you down a different street. "Well, you've made yourself a bit of an obstacle again. You've done good work, I've heard all about you from a… mutual friend." He glanced at you, smirking, just to see that barb land. "But unfortunately, you also tried to get me locked away for life. I can't just let something so personal slide, you understand?"

Oh you understood. You understood all too well. He had held a grudge all these years, and spotted the perfect opportunity to take you out and decided to take it. But if he was going after you…

"You've wanted me dead for longer than that," you managed, eyeing him. He still looked too pleased, too confident. It made you want to knock him down a peg or twenty.

"Oh, that?" He chuckled, as if it were silly. As if trying to kill you as a child had been nothing. "Well, that was business, wasn't it? I was after your father's business, you were incidental." He paused, watching with barely concealed glee as you struggled to hold down your rage. "Until Laswell took you in."

Horror washed cold down your spine, smothering your anger in an instant. Laswell. If he held a grudge against you, he certainly held one against Laswell. And she was here, she didn't know he was here.

If only you had a way to tell her, to warn her. To keep her safe, the way she'd kept you safe years ago.

Almost as quickly as the horror, a kernel of relief settled in your heart. She was surrounded by the 141, and the others. She was safe.

Much safer than you, at any rate.

"Oh don't worry," Gray soothed mockingly, cruel glee lighting his eyes when you glanced at him. "I haven't forgotten about her! In fact, I have something special planned for her as well."

You swallowed. He sounded too gleeful about that. You had always remembered him as being cruel and cold, but this? This was a level of cruelty you hadn't seen before. He was unhinged, deranged. Enjoying your fear. Enjoying taunting you. This was somehow worse than you had imagined. This wasn't just killing you, this was torturing you first and enjoying every moment of it.

You didn't remember this from your childhood memories.

"So, where are we going?" You knew you wouldn't get a proper answer, but it was the first thing that popped into your mind that wasn't panic or protective screaming for him to leave Kate alone. Your fingers twitched against your phone. Oh, Kate.

He smiled, amused and condescending, and stopped next to a car. A plain black sedan. You could have snorted at it, in other circumstances. For now, you just stopped a couple steps away. A bodyguard stepped out of the driver's seat, walking slowly around the car. Giving you a good look at the glint of a gun under his jacket.

You could have laughed, if you weren't so scared. This felt like old time mob shit. Your life had turned into a movie.

"You'll find out, soon enough," Gray said as the guard opened the door. He slid into the car, sinuous and easy, those cold eyes locked on you with glee.

You had no real choice here. If you tried to run, you'd be shot. If you got in the car, you were just as dead. It would just take longer.

Gray knew it too. He was enjoying this, enjoying watching you struggle.

But if you got in the car, there was a chance. A very slim chance, but still a chance.

"You know they'll find me, right?" You asked, voice deceptively mild as you shifted your weight. Biding your time. Trying to draw out any further information for the recording.

"Who, your new friends? Task Force 141?" Gray laughed, soft and cruel. Your heart jolted at the realization that he knew exactly who he was dealing with. The guard shifted, taking a half step forward, though he did not reach for you. "Oh yes. I know all about your new friends. SAS. You got your fingers into some very interesting pies." Gray smiled, cruel, dark. You could all but see the blood in his teeth from tearing people apart.

You shivered. Just once. But that was enough - he latched on to that moment of weakness.

"There are only the four of them," Gray continued, almost gently mocking. "What are four men to me? Four more lives? Bah. Nothing." He leaned forward, closer to you, lowering his voice to a menacing murmur. "Their lives are worth nothing to me, except the suffering their deaths may bring you." He paused a moment, purely for effect. "If you live that long."

Rage and horror warred in your veins, running cold, keeping you rooted to your spot. You needed to keep him away from John. Away from Kate. Away from the others.

"So. They can try," Gray finished, showing far too many teeth in his smile. "They can try."

You swallowed. He was very confident in all of this. Of course he was, he'd had years to plan out his revenge. Nobody even knew you were missing. They would have no real clues to go off of, no way to find you.

And he knew too much. About the 141. About Kate.

About you.

You were going to die.

Shivering now, you ended the recording and finally stepped towards the car. The guard moved away from the door, apparently content to let you get in and close the door yourself.

Which worked well for you. As soon as he was around the car, you got in. And dropped your phone in the grass next to the car.

The door shut between you and the outside world, muffling the noises of the city. Muffling everything. The air was thick in the car, tense.

The engine turned on, rumbling quietly. You looked out the window as the car started to move and risked one last look at your phone, sitting in the grass.

They wouldn't find you. They probably wouldn't even find your phone.

You were alone.

Maybe it was better this way, if you could keep Gray away from them.

Swallowing hard, you set your trembling hands in your lap and looked out the window, silence thick as a blanket settling over the car.

You should have told John how you felt about him.

You wouldn't have the chance, now.

#waking lions #john price x reader #john price x you #f!reader

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honeybcj · 19 days

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jartylus microfic

— james & barty have a plan, but they just need regulus on board. it shouldn’t take much, but they are willing to go above and beyond. or, the body shots au (mild nsfw, not explicit, but implied sexual content, body shots, mentions of weed) 1.7k

this one goes out to the anon ask about james & barty doing body shots off of regulus, so here we go <3 i told @stagpdf it would be a thing…………

One thing is for sure, when James has a plan to make something happen, he’s more than determined. Thankfully, his brewing idea is easily and quickly embraced by Barty. Even if it means keeping both their mouths shut, not uttering a single word to Regulus about their plans.

It started as James and Barty butting heads. A little playful rivalry that always teetered into the realms of austentacious flirting. Without fail, every single time, it would make Regulus hot in the cheeks, shaking his head fondly from afar.

His reactions turned into casual, yeah, I’d let him fuck me and just imagine me watching as you two got each other off. Had this been any other person, James would have let the jealousy unfurl in the pit of his belly. Go all gnashing teeth and clawing fingernails. But no, this is different.

There’s that part of James that can’t deny the palpable tension between him and Barty, fueled even more by endless bickering and the occasional playful shove. And it’s Barty. Someone Regulus has been friends with for years, so no it doesn’t surprise James in the slightest that there’s some special third thing that describes the relationship between Regulus and Barty.

So no, again, it really doesn’t come as any surprise when Barty said yes, sporting a wolfish grin. The kind of look in his eyes that screams trouble, or let’s play.

After a couple weeks of deliberation, the answer is planted right in their hands.

The apartment is a hazy blur of smoke and the smell of alcohol permeates the air. Somewhere, someone cranks up the music. Each note courses through James’ veins. He feels alive. And Regulus? He looks good enough to eat.

Decked out in pants that hug him in all the right spots and a silk, charcoal gray button up that has somehow become two buttons undone. It makes James’ mouth water, his pants tightening because not a single soul should ever look that good. It’s heartbreaking.

Pandora’s apartment is vast. The kitchen houses an expansive island, littered with half empty bottles, lime wedges, and green plastic cups. People mill about, talking and laughing, sharing drinks and getting high. The lights are dim, but plentiful enough for James to make out every move people are making.

From across the kitchen, Barty meets his gaze, raising his brow in a challenging manner. There’s that signature James Potter grin that appears on his face, nodding once at Barty who looks utterly thrilled by James’ response.

“I say it’s time for body shots!” Barty shouts, gaining the attention of nearly everyone in the room.

There’s a chorus of cheers as James turns to find Regulus watching him with heavy eyes, a little blood shot from the joint he had been sharing with Evan and Dorcas.

Everyone gathers in the kitchen quickly, Pandora shuffling bottles around to clear a space on the center island.

Arms slink around James waist, familiar. He relaxes against the touch, a chin resting gently on his shoulder.

“Wanna go first, baby?” James asks softly, voice like honey.

Regulus hums, releasing James from his grasp. He circles the man, cocking his brow. His voice comes out all smoky and warm, “Let’s give them a show.”

And a show it would be.

If only Regulus knew what he had up his sleeve.

Regulus shucks off the silk material from his shoulders, shoving it into James’ hands. Keeping his eyes locked with James, he climbs onto the counter and lays down. It makes James’ heart hammer inside his chest.

With careful hands, he trails his fingers along the smooth granite countertop before procuring a bottle of tequila. He pours a generous amount into the dip of Regulus’ collarbone, mouth watering with sheer desire and want.

Teasingly, James cocks his head to the side, gaze meeting Regulus’. With all the saccharine he can muster, he says, “Crouch, would you like to do the honors?”

Regulus’ eyes go wide, his mouth about to open in protest, but James hushes him by shoving a lime wedge between his lips. A soft hmph passes Regulus’ lips. His eyes are wild, going back and forth between James and Barty, who is now hovering over Regulus with a satisfied grin on his mouth.

“Alright there, Reggie?” Barty teases, everyone around them murmuring softly amongst themselves, watching with eager eyes.

Per usual, Regulus rolls his eyes, which is enough of a response for Barty to swoop down and lap up the burning liquid from Regulus’ neck.

Right then and there, James thinks he might combust. Barty’s pink tongue is vicious, lapping greedily until he’s gotten his fill. And if James feels his cock twitch in his pants when Barty takes the lime wedge from between Regulus’ lips, it’s nobody’s business but his own.

Cheers erupt around them, and both Barty and James share a look. James, eyes dark and needy, while Barty looks two seconds from ravishing Regulus right then and there on the table. And James would let him; let all their friends watch Barty fuck Regulus with reckless abandon.

Far and few times does Regulus get lost for words. Or astonished by anything, truthfully, but in this moment, Regulus lays atop the counter, chest rising and falling rapidly. Like he enjoyed what just happened. Molten lava pools in James’ belly.

“James, babe,” Barty liberally uses the term of endearment, fluttering his eyelashes all pretty-like. “I have an idea.”

“Huh, that so?” James breathes out, already prepared for what’s to happen.

“Barty, what are you—” Regulus begins, but cuts off when Barty haphazardly pours more tequila down Regulus’ chest, all the way down to his bellybutton.

James licks his lips. They’ve won.

The room goes silent, nobody aware of what is about to happen. But James and Barty know. They’ve planned this.

Regulus’ pale skin glistens with tequila, little droplets of the liquid dripping down his chest. Oh, James wants to eat.

Barty beckons James forward with a finger, a salacious grin on his mouth. “Can’t back out now, Potter.”

“Don’t plan on it,” James throws back, trailing a finger down Regulus’ flank. He shivers beneath the touch, abdomen clenching.

It’s unspoken, but it happens. One second, there’s a heated stare down happening between James and Barty and the next, both of them mouths are attached to Regulus’ torso, devouring the man’s skin. Licking and sucking until the taste of tequila on their tongues is replaced by skin. The sweetest taste—James favorite taste.

Regulus gasps, loud. It’s sharp and piercing, ringing in James’ ears. Goosebumps pop up along Regulus’ skin, hands pressing hard into the countertops. Both James and Barty know what’s happening. They can feel it.

That warmth in James’ belly intensifies when he locks eyes with Barty, James slowly trailing his tongue up Regulus’ torso from his belly button and Barty licking avidly down Regulus’ sternum.

And they meet.

It’s even more than James ever thought. The feeling of another mouth on his. Hot and wet, the lingering traces of tequila coating his tongue. They don’t keep it chaste, no. It’s all tongue and spit. Selfish teeth digging into lower lip, and James outright moans unabashedly at the feeling of Barty’s canines piercing his skin.

You could hear a pin drop in the room. It was that silent. The only noise being emitted was the hum the the music from the other room and the crude sounds of James and Barty’s mouths dueling it out.

James has had his fair share of kisses, but this one? It’s unlike anything he’s experienced before. Needy and heavy. Hot and desperate. Fueled solely on mutual hatred and pent up frustration.

He doesn’t know how long it goes on for, completely lost in the moment, but when it does end, both Barty and him stare at each other, eyes glassy and mouths kiss-swollen. He’s sure they both probably look insane.

Nobody speaks, just watching with slack jaws until someone lets out a loud whoop, whoop! And everyone is clapping and shouting a mix of what the fuck and hell yeah!

Finally, by some miracle, James pulls his focus away from Barty who is now leaning up against the counter acting like he just won the damn lottery. All smug and nonchalant and definitely more composed than James is feeling at the moment.

But what breaks James the most is the look on Regulus’ face. He’s pushed up onto his elbows, undoubtedly having had the best seat in the show for what just happened. His eyes are wide, jaw practically on the floor, pink dusting his cheeks in the most beautiful of ways.

James can’t help but envision that same pink dusting Regulus’ cheeks when he’s being bent over and fucked by Barty. It stirs the pot of rampant want inside his chest.

Regulus doesn’t say anything, just watches. Eyes flit between James and Barty, torso covered in the remnants of tequila and dried spit.

“Jamie,” Regulus fucking whimpers.

James knows everyone is trying their best to keep their focus elsewhere. Come on, it’s not that difficult to read the fucking room. Especially after what just happened. And Regulus’ pathetic whimper really and truly doesn’t help anything.

Barty leans forward, ducking down to whisper something into Regulus’ ear. By the way Regulus’ cheeks heat up even more, turning an ungodly red, James knows something filthy left Barty’s mouth, meant only for Regulus’ ears.

“We’re going,” is all Regulus says as he pushes himself off the counter.

Regulus practically storms out of the room, desperately trying to shrug his shirt back on, fingers fumbling helplessly with the buttons.

God, how they’ve really won this one.

A low voice fills his eyes, mirth dancing in its tone, “I’d say that was a success.”

James nods, agreeing, “Oh absol—” James stops, choking on his own breath when Barty slaps his ass. Hard.

“Come on, Potter,” Barty chuckles, “we’ve got places to be.”

With a shaky inhale, James nods again, turning his head over his shoulder to get one last look at Barty. Not humble about it in the slightest, Barty laughs, something wicked.

The plan may have succeeded, but James had no idea how he would make it out of this night alive.

#jartylus #james potter #barty crouch jr #regulus black #james x barty x regulus #jartylus microfic #the marauders #han’s microfics

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baegetas · 6 months

Text

》 house of horrors.

(KINKTOBER SPECIAL)

goku black x zamasu x afab reader.

summary: a strange individual approaches you during a halloween party, and he's brought a friend with him.

warnings: minors do not interact, explicit content: dub-con: don't read if possibly triggering, coercion, objectification, public sex, alcohol consumption, threesome (mostly just the reader being used,) monster fucking if you squint, oral sex, overstimulation, possessive themes, implied kidnapping

word count: 3.2k

a/n: first time writing something like this? kind of hard to write something tame for these two... lmao. i wanted to do something for kinktober. turned out better than i expected. delivered to you hot off the press, straight from word.

A frat party: deafening music that rattles your eardrums. Lights swirl around in shades of orange, yellow, and red. Solo cups litter the floor, and the air reeks of marijuana. People adorn costumes of anything from a single devil-horned headband to full-blown outfits that had to have cost them an arm and a leg. You? You chose a black, corseted dress and a velvet cape with a hood. Dark makeup was meticulously drawn onto your face. Your friend had dragged you here under the pretense of getting drunk and having a good time, but you lost them upwards of an hour ago. You found yourself outside, sitting in a lawn chair that was about three days from death.

Scrolling on your phone, you heard scuffling in the grass. It was light, like it was your friend approaching. But, no; you looked up to see a tall man in a black gi, adorning a green earring. Black, spiky hair covered his head, and his eyes were dark and predatory. He looked eerily familiar, perhaps like someone you’d seen on television, but you couldn’t place him.

You cleared your throat. “Nice costume. Simple, but it’s scary.”

“Costume? Is that what you mortals call it?”

His voice had the faintest twinge of a British accent. Being a few drinks down you blinked at him, thinking it was all part of the act. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

“Not one for parties like the rest of them?”

“No. Way too loud. Plus, my friend abandoned me, so that doesn’t help anything.”

The man chuckled under his breath, squatting down to be eye-to-eye with you. “I see. Mortals do have the tendency to abandon allies for their own interest. It’s not surprising.”

You cleared your throat again, trying to orient yourself. Trying to convince yourself that something was off about this man. “Who are you?”

“Me?” He scanned the area before lowering his voice. “I suppose you can call me Black.”

“Black?” You managed to laugh. “I guess it matches the costume.”

“There’s no costume at play here, mortal.” You looked into his eyes, and they showed no hint of amusement. No hint of sarcasm, humor, trickery – there was nothing. “I have a proposition for you.”

You leaned forward. “Okay?”

“My acquaintance and I are here, observing your kind.” Black said that with slight venom. You had the initial instinct to run, but the liquor in your system had you curious. “I think you’d be an especially nice one to investigate. What do you say?”

You checked your phone for a split second, seeing no messages from your friend. They didn’t even know you’d left the heart of the party. “What does... investigating entail?”

“Just a conversation.” He smirked, revealing unusually pointed canines. “Unless you’re interested in more.”

“More?”

With one look at your startled face, he burst out in a guttural laugh. “Fret not, dear. I’m in a rather good mood today. We won’t harm you. Just indulge us.”

You were about to ask before there was a bright flash. Within one blink, another person was standing in front of you. Well, person was a loose way to define him. Green skin, pointed ears, and strange clothing. White hair, and gray eyes that peered right into the deepest parts of your soul. In a way, he was scarier than Black. Much harder to read. He cooed, “this is the one?”

“Oh, yes.” Black eyed his acquaintance. “Pretty, is she not?”

“Perhaps.” The green-skinned being leaned forward. “Not the worst looking mortal. Strange attire. Does it have something to do with the human holiday?”

“Halloween? Yes.” Black stood up. “They dress up like demons and ghouls. I quite like it.”

“Hm.” The other one was still observing you. “Very well. I am Zamasu.”

“Za...ma...su.” You said that slowly. He teleported here, so you finally realized that they weren’t joking around. This wasn’t an act. There was something else going on. “Okay. Hi?”

They glanced at each other, then back at you. You felt like you were being examined – studied, for a purpose beyond you. And the dark of night wasn’t helping. Zamasu purred, “you don’t seem to be having fun here, mortal. How about you come with us?”

Your jaw didn’t move like you wanted it do. You’d always been told to avoid situations like this. To avoid strange people approaching you. But these weren’t people – these were something else. You cleared your throat. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere private,” Black’s voice was honeyed, “so the other mortals don’t interrupt us. Besides, if they saw us, they would simply have to die. Gods aren’t supposed to be perceived by your kind.”

Zamasu smiled. “Let’s go, shall we?”

He held out his hand. You stared at him for a few seconds, body frozen in time. You were afraid, but at the same time, you were intrigued. Slowly you stood up, hand taking hesitant hold of his strangely cold palm. Then, everything blurred. Suddenly, you found yourself in the woods, with Zamasu and Black standing in front of you. You wobbled, stumbling right into Black’s chest. A laugh echoed through his body. “Heh. Did that startle you?”

You jumped backwards, adjusting your clothes. “Uh... I mean, yeah. What... was that?”

Zamasu stepped closer. “Teleportation, dear. You took that well. I’ve seen other mortals vomit afterward.”

“Yes. I suppose she does seem to have a healthy form.” Black towered over you. “What makes you so different?”

“Uh...?” Your hand was shaking ever so slightly. You backed up and bumped into something. You yelped, turning around to see that Zamasu was behind you.

“Going somewhere?” His hand reached out, tilting your chin upwards. “I wouldn’t do that. It’s rather disrespectful to deny the questions of a God.”

Your lip quivered. His skin was so cold. It sent goosebumps shooting down your back, and you heard Black step up behind you. “If she won’t tell us, then I suppose we’ll have to find out for ourselves.”

Zamasu looked up toward his partner. “A rather brazen idea. Of course you’d be the one to suggest something like that.”

“Don’t tell me it isn’t at least a little enticing to you.”

Zamasu rolled his eyes, turning them back to you. Silver gaze was still looking through you, and you felt scared. Afraid. But at the same time, the adrenaline in your body was running right to your core. He leaned toward you and whispered, “how would you feel about that, little one? Not that it matters to him, but I prefer to at least see how you’d feel.”

Having him so close, his scent filled your brain. He was pressing you against Black, and Black was holding you in place. Hand cupping your jaw, he smirked, humming to himself as your eyes searched his face. “I...”

“Don’t be shy, now,” Black growled from behind you. “There’s no judgment here if you’d like to have a little fun with strangers. It’s in your nature, is it not?”

“And we’d give you a better time than any other mortal could provide for you.” Zamasu’s charming smirk was cracking your façade. You tried to be stuck up and coy, but it wasn’t working. If they were Gods, they could probably read your mind. “Don’t you agree?”

You swallowed roughly, breath hitching in your throat. You stammered, “I... don’t disagree.”

“Ah, there she goes.” Black snickered behind you, leaning over your shoulder. “I knew she’d cave.”

“Because I’m more charming than you, perhaps.” Zamasu leaned closer. “He’s far too barbaric, especially with pretty girls like you.”

Black scoffed. Your heart jolted. “Pretty...?”

“Oh, yes. I’ll give credit where it’s due. Let us see.” He chuckled, brushing hair from your face. He leaned in for a kiss, taking you by surprise, but his body’s cool temperature mixing with your warmth was intoxicating. Something you’d never felt before. It made you shiver, and you couldn’t help but kiss back. You felt teeth sink into your neck, causing you to groan. Zamasu pulled back, eyes flickering to his partner. “Heh. She sounds as nice as she looks. You chose a good one this time.”

Black snorted. “You don’t have to tell me. I could tell by the way you were shoving your tongue down her throat.”

“Tch.” You were silent as Zamasu spat, “you’re the one that’s far too excited to have your way. You have no idea how to court a woman.”

Black bellowed a laugh. “I have no interest. You’re far too soft.”

Black spun you around and kissed you violently, pressing you past Zamasu and into a nearby tree. You clawed at his shirt, It was hard to breathe from the intensity of his actions, and you heard Zamasu scoff behind him. You almost couldn’t reciprocate. Black wasn’t there for taste. Black was there for the thrill of power. Hands grabbing at your skin, teeth biting your lip – by the time he pulled back, you were heaving for breath. Black chuckled and mused, “I could take you right now. But it seems my counterpart gets his turn this time. How disappointing.”

Turn? Your eyes flickered to Zamasu, who was staring at Black coldly with his arms crossed. “Good. At least you remembered our agreement.”

Black glared back at him. “I’d fight you for her if I wasn’t feeling so pleasant.”

“That would be unwise.”

Black barked out a laugh, backing away from you. Black said they were acquaintances, but they bickered far too much. Zamasu approached, pulling you into another kiss. His approach was much smoother, and his hand traveled up your thigh through the slit in your dress. Hesitantly, your arms folded around his neck, causing Black to scoff in disgust. You could feel jealousy radiating off him, and Zamasu seemed to be reveling in it.

As he made out with you, his gold fingers grazed along your underwear, making you suck in an exhale. But the way that he touched you in just the right spots, you didn’t deny him. It made him laugh. His finger slid underneath, sliding along your bare folds. He pulled back to coo, “You seem so hesitant, but your body denies you, hm? You’re more excited than you seem. Perhaps you’re one of those girls that... thinks about things akin to this? Who ponders being taken?”

Your head leaned back against the tree, and his cold fingers played with you. He leaned forward to whisper, “I bet you fantasize about being watched, too. Perhaps you like being under the predatory gaze of my counterpart, hm?”

Zamasu’s fingers pressed into you, causing you to whine. Never before had you felt such a cold sensation. He nipped at your ear, moving his fingers at a steady pace. He purred, “are you going to give me an answer, or will I have to be rough with you? I’ve no issue with brats, but I do enjoy being sweet from time to time.”

“I... do think about things like that,” you breathed out, legs shuddering ever so slightly from the stimulation. You felt Zamasu smile against your neck. “I... just... it seems so...”

“Sinful? I suppose.” His tongue flicked against your neck. Heat was building in your core. “We’re all sinners in some way, no?”

Black was pacing, like Zamasu’s slow approach was getting under his skin. Zamasu chuckled at it, fingers speeding up. You groaned, and Zamasu eyed his counterpart. “Suffering back there?”

“Shut up.”

He hummed before capturing you in another sweet kiss. It didn’t take long for you to squirm under his touch, and he kept you in that kiss while you came all over his fingers. He chuckled as he said, “that’s good.”

His fingers withdrew from you, and he stepped to the side only an inch. As you were reeling, you felt a tongue press against your folds, causing your eyes to snap open. Black was below you, devouring every ounce of slick he could gather. Zamasu was busy nibbling at your neck. You tried to tangle your fingers in Black’s hair, but he growled and smacked your hand away. Zamasu purred, “take no offense. He isn’t too fond of being touched.”

You whined in response, legs shuddering. You heard Black chuckle before he pulled back. “Tastes better than expected.”

“Hm? A compliment from you?” Zamasu smirks. “That’s a rarity. You should thank him.”

Black stood up as you stammered, “Thank... You.”

“Good.” Zamasu turned to his counterpart. “As we agreed, I’ll be taking her. You can either stand and brood or see if she’ll have you from the front. Perhaps she’ll oblige if you’re a little sweeter, no?”

Black mumbled to himself as Zamasu eased you onto your hands and knees. Luckily, the ground below you was moss, and you were far from anyone that could hear. He leaned over you, hands sliding down your sides. “You’re such coy creatures, Feigning modesty, but given the opportunity, you’d throw it all away for divine pleasure.”

Getting down on one knee, he slowly pulled up your dress, gathering it around your hips. Hands cradling your ass, he was quick to slide your panties off, throwing them somewhere in the dark. His fingers prodded your entrance as he observed you, pupils dilated. Black peered over his shoulder and mused, “I’m getting keener on fighting you for this opportunity. Look at that.”

Zamasu hissed, “I have the same disdain of mortals, but objectification is unsightly. It won’t get you anywhere.”

The malice in his voice startled both of you. Black resorted to leaning against a tree, arms crossed and pouting as Zamasu loosened his pants, sliding them down just enough to free his own erection. Fingers still prodding at you, he chuckled. “Oh, I’m going to have fun with you, sweetheart. Do relax. I’ll take care of you. Be grateful.”

“I... am.”

“Good.” His head prodded against you, making you shiver. A hand gripped your hip as he slid himself into you, and the stretch of his inhuman girth made you mewl. You couldn’t run; even with one arm, he was stronger than you. Yet, the way he hit every single inch of your walls – it made your eyes roll back in your head. Eyes flickering back, he had a malicious, hungry look on his face. Such a stark contrast to the charming, cunning look in his eyes just moments prior.

He gave you about fifteen seconds to adjust before he started moving his hips, making your chest collapse downwards. Your hips arched upwards, giving him a better angle to gain momentum. You could hear your own wetness squelching out of you, and Zamasu couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, this is heavenly. A perfect fit. Such a wonderful body to match a stunning face.”

You gasped out, “thank you,” as your body jerked with his thrusts. At the same time, your hair stood on end. The desire radiating from Black was undeniable. As you came undone on Zamasu’s inhuman cock, he rubbed your ass as he mused, “Perhaps you could pleasure my counterpart, dear? I’m afraid he's getting rather antsy.”

You looked back, eyes half-lidded. “H... How?”

Zamasu smiled, pace never faltering. “Use that lovely mouth of yours, darling.”

You were going to argue, but the thought of denying Zamasu tugged at your heartstrings for one reason or another. You managed to pick yourself back up and mumble, “I... can.”

“That’s a good girl.” Zamasu said that as Black got on one knee in front of you, already pumping his length. His, at least, seemed more human. But you doubted that he was. Black took your jaw in his hand and prodded his head against your lips.

“You’d better take it well.” Black said that as he pressed his length into your mouth. They were fucking you on both sides. He threw his head back, grinning in pleasure as your groans reverberated against him. “Oh, yes. Keep making her do that.”

Zamasu’s pace quickened, and the volume of your moans increased in turn. Black grabbed your hair to keep your head in place, causing Zamasu to glare. “Gentle.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I ordered you to.”

“But she feels far too good.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as they argued over you. Their pace didn’t slow as they bickered, either. Your walls tightened around Zamasu, making him grunt. “I... understand that. However...”

He never finished the statement. His hips snaps against you, which snaps your mouth toward Black. Their movements are perfectly in sync. Black growls animalistically, looking down at you with crazed eyes. “Yes, yes! That’s it.”

He roared as he came into your mouth. He was quick to slip himself out, holding your jaw shut. He rasped, “Swallow, or I’m going to do it again, mortal.”

You used every muscle in your body to swallow. His thumb pried your mouth open, looking inside. With a satisfied grin, he pulled his pants back up and stood up. He strolled back to his post at the tree, and your moans began spilling into the air instead. Zamasu’s stamina was incredible. Looking back, there was sweat rolling down his forehead. He looked blissed out, an angelic smile on his face.

“Lovely, lovely.” He cooed, hands on your hips with a bruising grip. “Just a little more, darling.”

Your thoughts were a mess at this point. Your body felt like it was full of electricity, and you found yourself with a smile on your face. Was it pleasure born, or were you genuinely enjoying this? Perhaps both? Yes, both.

Then, with a grunt, Zamasu’s hips snapped against your own, and he came with an uncharacteristic growl. He slowed to a stop, taking a matter of seconds to catch his breath. Keeping himself inside, he pulled you upwards by your shoulders, holding you against him like a doll. Your head leans against his shoulder as he strokes your sides and your thighs. From behind, Black sneers, “What’s the matter with you?”

Zamasu hums, “I could ask you the same.”

“So gentle toward a mortal. This stands against everything we’re striving toward!”

“Hm.” His fingers brush against your cheeks. “But, I like this one.”

“You’re just in a pleasure-filled stupor.” Black steps forward. “We should get rid of her.”

“Absolutely not. ”Your eyes opened a sliver, and Zamasu looks at you with a sweet smile. He looks back to his counterpart. “I’d like to keep this one.”

“What?” Black’s lip twitched. “That’s ludicrous!”

Zamasu withdraws himself from you, standing you up with him. He straightens out your clothes as if you were a doll, and then picks you up. He stares at you dotingly. “Then, she’ll be my responsibility. You won’t even need to acknowledge her existence.”

“You cannot just keep a mortal!”

“You’re the one who insists on studying them. What’s the problem in keeping one as a pet?”

Black stammers, not responding. He scoffs, turning around. “Whatever. But I’m not taking care of it.”

“Certainly. I chose her, after all.”

“I chose her, for one.” Black eyes you both with disdain. “But I suppose keeping one around isn’t the worst idea in the universe.”

Zamasu adjusts you in his arms, making a pleased noise. You’re almost limp, unable to comprehend the situation at hand. They walk forward, and in a flash, teleported, taking you with them.

#mdni #kinktober #smut #goku black x reader #zamasu x reader #goku black x zamasu x reader #dbz #dbs #dbz x reader #dbs x reader #x reader

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skyeet-the-writer · 7 months

Text

The One With the Girl from Canada

while im cleaning out my drafts, here's something from a few months ago. i really like this and i've written and are currently writing some more little chapters, so be on the lookout for them!! this is also posted on my ao3 if you want to go read it there too :) chandler bing x female!reader summary: new york city is a big place for a girl who lived in canada her entire life, but you manage. one afternoon, while getting some work done in a cozy coffee shop, a very handsome brunette asks to sit beside you. who are you to tell him no? word count: ~2.3k warnings: none i don't think lmao that never happens next>

Central Perk is a special spot for Chandler Bing. That's where he talks with his friends, it's where they all relax, it's where he met Rachel just a couple of months ago, coming in wearing a wedding dress and looking highly frazzled. It's got a nice, calming atmosphere, pretty good coffee, and the absolute best spot in all of Manhattan.

The area with the couch is where he and his friends always sit. Sometimes he feels bad for taking it, but nobody seems to mind, ever. And so he always sits there, usually on the couch when it is available.

When he walked into Central Perk one afternoon after work, he just wanted to grab a coffee and wait for the rest of his friends to show up eventually. He didn't expect there to be anyone there, no one ever was at this time on a Thursday.

But then he saw someone sitting in his spot.

Normally, he would have been upset, probably ask them to leave, nicely, of course, and pray to God that they left because he hates confrontation.

However, the person sitting in his spot was probably the most beautiful person he had ever seen. She looked like she had been there for a few hours, at least, because there was an empty plate with crumbs on it and a large mug drained, both sitting on the coffee table her feet were propped up on.

For a moment, Chandler stood at the counter and stared at her like some kind of creep. He had never seen her around and he knew he'd remember if he did. She wore gray jeans rolled up at the ankles to show off her colorful socks underneath a pair of black and white Converses. As his eyes traveled up her frame, he saw her wearing some kind of band tee and a tiny, silver necklace around her neck. She seemed to be writing something and, from what Chandler could tell, she seemed to be deep into thought. Her pencil scratched across the notebook and every so often, she would pause and read over it before promptly erasing something and writing once more.

He heard his name being said and turned around to see Guther holding out a coffee cup to him.

"Oh, thanks, Gunther," he told the worker, taking the coffee from him.

Chandler had never been good at talking to girls and more often than not chickened out on the opportunity to do so. But he didn't want to chicken out on talking to you.

And so, with confidence, he walked over to the area he always sat at and stood just beside the couch, next to your arm that was leaning on the armrest.

Before now, he didn't notice the headphones around your ears and the Walkman that sat beside you, but when he clears his throat and you don't react, he understands why. And so, again and a little bit louder, he clears his throat, gently tapping on your shoulder.

Your eyes tear away from the page in your lap at the touch of another person and you whip your head up to see a man standing beside you, looking at you with a smile. Perhaps too loudly, you exclaim, "Oh, shit, sorry!" and hastily pause your music and let the headphones rest around your neck. You blink up at the man and ask, "Yes?"

"I, uh." Chandler swallows thickly because even your voice is one from a dream. "You're, uh, kind of in my spot."

With a mischievous smile, you turn around in your seat like you're looking for something. "Oh, word? I don't see your name on it."

And then you smile at him snarkily and Chandler forgets how to breathe. But then he laughs, a bit awkwardly. Your sarcastic grin fades into a true one and you add, "Don't worry, I'll move."

When you start to gather your things, Chandler is quick to put a stop to it. He doesn't want you to move, not now, not ever. Not when he's just started to talk to you. "No, no, you're fine, I'm just kidding."

You stop your movements and look up at him. "Oh, alright. You can sit next to me, though."

Chandler doesn't have to be told twice. He sits beside you on the opposite side of the couch and takes a drink of his coffee like that will do anything to cure his jitters.

"What's your name?" you ask him, setting your notebook in your lap for just a moment. You wonder if he wants to have a conversation, but not many people in New York do.

He answers, "Chandler."

"Nice to meet you, Chandler. I'm y/n."

God, even your name sounds like something from a song.

"It's nice to meet you, too, y/n." He takes notice of the notebook in your lap and feels the urge to ask, "Mind if I ask what you're writing?"

With another grin, you say, "What if I did?"

Chandler can only wonder if your smile is contagious because he feels his lips curl upwards. "I mean, I'd still ask. I'm nosey."

You laugh and tilt your notebook for him to read. "It's a screenplay I'm writing."

Chandler's eyes widen. "You're a screenwriter? What, you make movies and stuff?"

"I wish." You scoff and feel a slight heat rise to your cheeks. "No, I write stories for movies and stuff. At least, I try."

"Is it not going so well?"

You shrug. "I don't know. Some studio called me up a few months ago, said they liked the idea I submitted and gave me a few months to come up with a first draft. And I've got two more weeks to finish it, so we'll see."

"I'm sure it's great," Chandler says and he means it. He can't write for shit, but something about you seems so...creative and special. "Even if I just met you."

You laugh again and close the notebook, stashing it away in the tote bag that rests on the floor. "Thanks, really."

"Of course." When you turn your body to face him, he sees what band is on your shirt and, even though he knows who it is, he asks, "What band is that?"

When he points to your chest, you look down and answer, "Oh, Nirvana."

"Oh, my God, I love them!"

"Really?" Your face breaks into a grin and you lean forwards a little. "What's your favorite song."

"'Heart-Shaped Box'," he says.

"Oh, that's good. I like 'Come As You Are'."

Soon, the conversation seems to flow quite naturally between the pair of you. He tells you about his boring job, something with a bunch of numbers and nothing exciting. You both compare bands and he realizes you're much more into rock and alternative works, but he guessed that the second he saw the leather jacket that rests beside you.

Joey is the first to arrive. Chandler glances up at the door when he hears the bell above it jingle and sees his roommate falter at the sight of you. You're not looking, rummaging through your tote bag for something and Chandler's eyes widen at the sight of the other person. If Joey flirts with you, Chandler will kill him.

Joey, clearly not catching on to Chandler's look from across the cafe, sees you and smirks, walking over.

"Hey, Chandler," he greets but doesn't look at his friend, eyes settling on you. "Who's, uh, your friend?"

You turn up at the sound of another person and spot the Italian-American smiling at you. You smile back and say, "I'm y/n."

"How you doin'?" Joey smirks and sits himself down on the high stool beside you. "I'm Joey."

"Hi, Joey," you reply, glancing at Chandler who quickly wipes the glare from his face and smiles at you. "You guys know each other?"

"We're roommates," he answers, motioning at his friend who is still staring at you.

You blink and shift in your seat. "Oh."

"I like your shirt," Joey says.

"You like Nirvana, too?" Your face brightens and Chandler almost melts.

But then his roommate says, "Who?"

And that look on your face is gone. Your smile falls and you look away back into your tote, mumbling, "Never mind."

Chandler meets his friend's eyes and shakes his head twice, brows furrowed. Joey always gets the girl. Chandler deserves to hope, at least.

You pull out a packet of gum and open it. You take a piece out and unwrap it before offering one to Chandler. He smiles and takes it, popping it in his mouth and shoving the wrapper in his pocket.

"Want some gum?" you ask the other man with darker and messier hair.

He takes one and thanks you. You return it with a grin and put the gum back in your tote, on top of your notebook.

Joey says your name and you look at him. "So, you live around here?"

You nod. "Yeah, I live in Hell's Kitchen."

"Oh, cool, cool. How long have you lived here? You grew up in New York?"

Immediately, you shake your head. "Oh, no, no, I didn't grow up here."

"Where'd you grow up?" Chandler asks, tilting his head

"Winnipeg," you answer, biting back a smile.

Chandler's brows furrow and Joey asks, "Where's that?"

"Manitoba." Your straight cracks a bit and you try to fight the smile that wants to paint itself across your lips.

Joey looks lost and asks again, "...Where's that?"

"Canada," you tell him, fully grinning now.

Joey gasps and Chandler tries not to roll his eyes. He figured it out when you said Manitoba. He says, "You're from Canada?"

You nod, turning your head to look at him. "Yep."

"Do you speak French?" Joey asks, touching your arm, clearly already friendly with you.

Turning to him, you answer, "Non."

Chandler laughs and you giggle, crossing one leg over the other.

"I speak Italian," Joey says.

You raise a brow. "Yeah?"

He nods and leans forward in his chair, smirking. "Sei bellissima."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you're beautiful," he answers, voice a little lower than it was before.

Some heat rushes up your neck and you look away at your lap. "Oh."

Chandler glares at his friend, but Joey doesn't catch it.

Thankfully, before Chandler reaches over you to choke Joey, the bell dings and he glances at the door. Monica, Ross, Phoebe, and Rachel are walking in and while the rest of his friends make their way over, Rachel immediately goes to clock in for her shift.

They walk over and greet the other two and Phoebe is the first to address you. "Oh, wow, you're pretty."

You laugh out loud, blushing even harder at the compliment from a woman, touching your necklace. "Thank you. I like your skirt."

Phoebe giggles and swishes her skirt. "Thanks."

"This is y/n," Chandler introduces you to his friends.

"Hey." You lift your hand in a wave of sorts, feeling like you're butting in on their group. You should leave, but in a minute. You don't want to be rude.

Chandler's friends introduce themselves--Ross, Monica, and Phoebe, you repeat their names in your head to remember better--and then he gestures towards the coffee bar. "And the girl over there is Rachel."

"It's nice to meet you guys," you say politely, squeezing your hands in your lap.

"You too." Monica smiles. "I love your shirt, by the way."

"Thanks." You grin, basking in all the compliments.

Ross looks at Monica and asks, "You listen to Nirvana?"

Monica fixes him with a look. "Yes, because I'm cooler than you."

You chuckle at their interaction when Joey suddenly blurts out, "Ask her where she's from!"

You giggle at the man's antics and look at the others.

Ross smiles and asks, "Alright. Where are you from?"

"Winnipeg," you reply, still smiling. Chandler thinks he's going to swoon.

Monica is the first to figure it out. "You live in Canada?"

You nod. "I mean, I used to. I moved to Hell's Kitchen a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh, my god, so you just moved here," Chandler says.

"Why did you move all the way from Canada down to here?" Ross wonders.

"I'm a screenwriter and ended up getting a job down here," you answer. "Besides, Canada is boring, so I was looking for a change of scenery."

"Well, how do you like it here so far?" Phoebe asks.

You shrug. "It's pretty nice. A little colder, somehow, but I like it. There are a lot more people and a lot more things to do and see. I lived in Winnipeg my entire life so I kind of felt like I saw everything."

"I've always wanted to go to Canada," Rachel says, coming to hand out coffee.

You smile. "It's nice. Alberta is really pretty."

Mustering up some courage, Chandler says, "Hey, if you ever need someone to show you around the city, I'll be happy to help you."

And then you look at him and grin, nodding. "That'd be sick."

He feels heat start to creep up his cheeks, and he smiles back. "Awesome."

You look at the time on the clock and say, "I've got to head out, but it was great to meet you guys."

"Yeah, you too!" Monica says.

Taking a Post-it note from your bag, you write down your number and hand it to Chandler. He takes it and tries not to stare at it too hard. "Hope to catch you guys later."

Chandler's friends wave to you and you walk out the door, shrugging your jacket on before walking off. Chandler stares at the window for several seconds after you're gone and only snaps out of it when Monica says something.

"Chandler, how the hell did you get her number?"

He shrugs, looks at the bright blue Post-it note, and reads it.

here :) (xxx-xxx-xxxx)

He smiles and puts it in his pocket, trying to ignore the looks his friends are giving him. You're very cool and very pretty and Chandler can't wait to see you again.

#x reader #chandler bing #chandler bing x reader #canadian reader #ross geller #rachel green #joey tribbiani #monica geller #phoebe buffay

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