#*slides this toward u casually* | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

suntoru · 8 months

Text

─ ✰ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒.

— synopsis: 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, the popular guy in your class, chooses to sit next to you, of all people. you've fallen head over heels, what happens next?

— warnings: highschool au! angst, fluff in the beginning, will not be writing a part 2, swearing, gaslighting, betrayal, just a bet troupe, gojo being a dick or everybody generally, 3.4k words!

— a/n: not my proudest work to be honest :( also tried another formatting lmk if u liked it! comments and reblogs r very much appreciated i will love u forever

"yo. can i sit here?" gojo satoru grins, effortlessly sliding into the empty seat next to you and making himself at home.

...huh? isn't that the popular guy who's usually surrounded by his friends? he's constantly the subject of admiration among the girls in your class, eliciting swoons and whispers of infatuation wherever he goes. confusion creeps in as you wonder why he didn't choose the empty seat next to suguru. there's no conceivable reason for someone like gojo, popular and charismatic, to opt for the seat beside you. you feel a sense of self-consciousness settling in.

nevertheless, you nod softly, though you're well aware the question was more of a rhetorical one. he's fashionably late, by twenty minutes, to be precise, unabashedly ignoring the scolding glares from your teacher about punctuality. instead, he buries himself in the deep blue plastic seat, sticking his tongue out when the teacher turns his back, letting out a huffy pout from the lecture.

nervously, you glance up from your notebook, cautiously stealing a peek at your new desk buddy. he's pretty─ real pretty, snowy white lashes adorning his pretty cerulean spheres, dainty fingers idly spinning a pencil out of sheer boredom. and as if kissed by the blush of a gentle sunrise, his lips possess a natural rosy hue, smooth and plump, belong to him like a delicate work of art. you wonder just how many kisses they've stolen. caught in a moment of admiration, you find yourself staring a tad longer than socially acceptable.

his eyes flicker, locking onto yours, and the realization hits you—oh, he caught you staring. shit. immediately, you break eye contact as you cough awkwardly. you swiftly attempt to play it off, pretending as if you were engrossed in examining the intricate texture of your silver-grey desk instead. your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you hope he hasn't interpreted your lingering gaze as anything more than idle curiosity.

...should you say something? try to deny you were very clearly eye fucking him? he probably thinks you're a freak now. perhaps he sat next to you out of pity, and now he regrets it. out of sheer embarrassment, the words die in your mouth before they could ever leave, keeping your gaze glued to the floor as you refuse to acknowledge that his presence ever existed.

however, it appears that gojo won't let you suffer the embarrassment in peace. when your stern teacher turns away, he subtly slides a ripped edge of his blue-lined paper towards you, bearing a simple 'hi :)'. he's attempting a conversation, a surprising but welcome distraction from the awkwardness of being caught staring. an opportunity to salvage a bit of your dignity. now, the challenge lies in crafting a response that strikes the right balance.

would 'hey' sound too dry? but 'heyyyy' makes it seem like you're a little too interested. you opt for a casual 'heyy' with your black pen, scribbling the reply with extra caution to avoid prying eyes. as soon as the teacher is out of view, you subtly slip the note back to gojo. his lips curl into a slight smile upon reading your response.

two minutes pass by before you get a response. 'do you get this lesson? i'm soo lost..' accompanied by a small doodle of a crying suguru. you can't help but stifle a giggle; the drawing is poorly done, yet undeniably cute. the teacher swiftly turns around at the sound, prompting both of you to scramble and make it look like you're diligently focused on the lesson. the suspicious gaze lingers for a moment before the teacher returns to the whiteboard.

'maybe it's cause you missed like, half of the lesson.' you write back. he rolls his eyes playfully upon reading your retort, swiftly countering with a pout. "it's not my fault this class is so boring.'

'who said philosophy was supposed to be fun?' you reply. in response, gojo eagerly accepts the note, maintaining the subtle exchange of eye contact. 'hey, be nice to mr. aristotle, he's a great guy :(' he sends back. and thirty minutes seem to pass in the blink of an eye.

the bell chimes, signaling the end of the philosophy session and the need to transition to your next course. reluctantly, you stow your textbook in your bag, feeling a twinge of sadness at the realization that this amusing interaction might have been a one-time occurrence.

it's been a while since you've genuinely laughed. so when his ocean blue eyes latch onto yours with a genuine sense of hope, you quickly fold when he asks you if you're interested in sitting with him again tomorrow.

in those thirty short minutes, you learn three things about gojo satoru. firstly, you realize you've sorely misjudged him. he's not just another nepo-baby cheating his way through school; he's actually quite smart, smarter than he lets on. he's especially good in biochemistry, and he promises to help you study next time.

secondly, you discover that he loves sweets, just as you do. you both agree that kikufuku mochi is better than strawberry dango, and he even tells you about his favorite shop. maybe you can go together sometime.

and thirdly, he doesn't tell you this outright, but you learn that gojo is insecure. what strikes you the most is the glimpse of uncertainty you catch beneath his confident exterior. it's not about his looks or intelligence, but it's actually about his relationship with suguru. he's afraid to lose him, a fear that seems to drive him more than anything else. he overcompensates for his self-doubt. but you find that his flaws make him all the more pretty.

it's peculiar, the speed at which gojo somehow effortlessly integrates into your daily life. how he's feeling is how you're feeling, which is usually reflected on his friendship with suguru. if they had a fight, he'd be sad, and if everything was alright, he was too. but either way was okay with you, you just want to be there for him. what was once a dreaded fourth period now stands as the radiant highlight of your entire day.

despite the limited instances of verbal communication —perhaps a mere once or twice— the inexplicable truth remains: you've fallen head over heels for him. the simple act of passing notes with satoru becomes more than a routine; it evolves into the sole force that awakens you in the morning, the singular thought that propels you forward and keeps you going throughout the day.

and just maybe, the hopeless romantic within you fervently clings to the belief that his sentiments go beyond mere friendship. his actions seem to carry an extra layer of care, an attentiveness that extends beyond your platonic friendship. he notices the little things that escape the notice of others. it wasn't lost on him when you shed tears the other night due to the weight of stress; he went out of his way to procure your favorite candy bar, a sweet gesture aimed at brightening your spirits.

he took notice of your new haircut, expressing in a note that it frames your face nicely. he had comforted you when a classmate aimed a subtle insult your way, he wrote that the words of someone whose foundation didn't match their face shouldn't hold much weight. he even made an effort to be punctual for class, all to engage in the shared exchange of silly notes with you. and honestly, even if he didn't like you back, you'd be fine.

because your heart swells with gratefulness at the fact that he chose to sit with you. he wanted to be your friend even when nobody else did. you trusted and loved him with your whole heart, because that's what you believed he deserved.

so imagine your surprise when you overhear his conversation with suguru that day.

"just a day more, then you win the bet." geto groans, tossing his head back in exasperation. the two of them linger in the now-empty classroom, the echoes of other students long gone.

"yep, twenty four hours, then you owe me three hundred dollars." satoru sings, playfully nudging his best friend's shoulder. he's all sunshine and smiles, swinging his feet from the desk he's currently sitting on.

"and it wasn't even that hard. i just had to get 'em to fall for me." suguru rolls his eyes. "dude, if i was you, i would've tapped out the first week. how'd you manage to do it?" he huffs, clearly annoyed at the impending financial loss.

satoru mischievously grins. "just used my charm." he fluffs his hair with a smug expression on his face. "can't believe it worked so fast, though. they must be real desperate for someone's attention. all it took was for you to fuckin' pretend like you cared." suguru grouches, being a sore loser. you don't hear the rest, the notebook you had lost long forgotten.

a lump forms in your throat, a sensation of dread creeping up on you. you desperately want to believe he's not talking about you, but you can't shake the realization that to him, you were nothing more than a pawn in a bet— a tool used for his amusement. you're overwhelmed by a sense of stupidity, a painful realization sinking in, drowning every rational thought.

he never cared. you could fall dead at this moment and he wouldn't even spare you a glance. you should've known. why would he? you feel stupid for allowing him entry into your life, stupid for naively believing in his sincerity, and stupid for daring to love a heartless jerk who played with the fragile strings of your heart.

they're right. you are pathetic. you just blindly fell for the first person who gave, or rather, pretended to give a shit. a relentless ache throbs in your chest as you stubbornly refuse to succumb to tears over a boy— a resolution crumbling like fragile glass. despite your stubborn determination, an uncontrollable torrent of hot tears streams down your face, distorting the world into a watery blur.

the desperate yearning for someone to choose you, to envelop you in unconditional and pure love, had fueled your hopes. and for a fleeting moment, you believed you'd found it, only to witness your heart being ruthlessly trampled blue. clutching onto the tattered shreds of your dignity, half-broken and bleeding, you muster the strength to leave swiftly before they catch a glimpse of you.

the bitter taste of betrayal lingers in the air, each teardrop is a testament to the shattering of dreams, the dead hope that once soared. the yearning for a love that stands unwavering proves to be a mirage, leaving you grappling with the shards of a love that was never truly yours.

that day, you learn one more thing about gojo satoru. he's just like everybody else.

cerulean eyes, like pools of shimmering azure, flicker with concern as they scan the empty seat beside him. minutes stretch into eternity on the clock, each tick of the second hand amplifying the weight of his worry. nine twenty morphs into nine fifty pretty quickly, and he can't help but be a little annoyed. at this rate, you'll only get in twenty minutes of 'talking.'

you're always punctual—eight fifty-five on the dot. but today, the clock ticks on, and there's no sign of you anywhere. his brows furrow with concern, a nervous flutter dancing in his stomach. did something happen to you? the mere possibility sends a pang of anxiety through him, and he fidgets restlessly in his seat, unable to focus on the lesson before him.

yet, when his gaze shifts to meet suguru's, he swiftly masks his apprehension with an air of nonchalance, as if feigning indifference to your absence. but inwardly, his heart races as he anxiously awaits your arrival. when you finally walk in, he's already scribbling furiously on a piece of paper, filled with questions about what could have delayed you today. yet, as he extends his hand to pass you the note, his eager smile fades into confusion and disappointment.

you walk right past seat thirteen, your usual spot, without so much as a glance in his direction. instead, you approach a random girl and ask if you could sit with her. his heart sinks, a flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks as a torrent of thoughts flood his mind. is something wrong? are you upset with him? he replays every interaction in his mind, searching for any misstep. but he can't find one. he's been careful to maintain the perfect facade when you're around. perhaps you simply forgot, he reasons with himself, attempting to quell the rising tide of hurt and confusion.

yes, that must be it.

...just a simple oversight.

"hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!! just wait a moment!!" gojo's voice cuts through the chatter of students eager to leave as soon as the bell rings. he grabs your wrist, his touch gentle yet firm, halting your attempt to blend into the rush. his heart races in his chest, the sudden surge of adrenaline making his palms clammy.

"um... you didn't sit with me today." he mumbles, the words coming out in a rush, his voice tinged with uncertainty. his fingers toy with the ring around his finger, his gaze fixed on the ground as he struggles to find the right words to continue the conversation. he doesn't like the way you're looking at him. there's a flicker of irritation in your gaze, a departure from the usual warmth and affection that he's grown accustomed to. normally, when his eyes meet yours, your cheeks tint pink, your pupils dilate, and you give him the cutest starry-eyed look. but not today.

"yeah," you mutter casually, your eyebrow raising ever so slightly. there's a certain coldness in your eyes that sends a shiver down his spine. you're about to leave again, but he moves to block the door, a frown creasing his forehead.

"did i do something wrong? i don't understand why you're suddenly acting so bitchy," he huffs, irritation lacing his voice. the words tumble out before he can stop them, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "no," you reply simply, your tone devoid of any emotion, as if you genuinely don't care. it stings his ego, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

"you can 'use your charm' to make a new friend. since it's so easy for you, right?" you mutter, your voice trembling with suppressed anger. you promised yourself you'd hold it together, but the wound is still raw, etched deep into your mind as a flush of resentment rises within his eyes widen in shock, a pang of guilt stabbing at his heart. you heard that? no, no, no... he hadn't meant for you to be there. he had been so careful, or so he thought.

"i didn't mean it, i just-" he stutters, desperately searching for an excuse, but he knows it's futile. there's no chance you'd believe him now, would you? his heart sinks. he doesn't want you to hate him. "i was easy, right?" you laugh bitterly, each word dripping with sarcasm and pain.

"i hope that three hundred dollars was worth it. not that you even needed it, though. you think toying with people is fun? you're a dick, satoru, go to fucking hell." you hiss, your words laced with venom, cutting through the air like a sharp blade. "let me explain-" he protests, desperation evident in his voice as he tries to reason with you. but you're too angry to even consider it.

"explain? explain what?'" you explode, your voice rising with each syllable, oblivious to the judgmental glances of passersby. you scoff, tears threatening to spill over.

"i didn't mean it," he cuts you off, his own voice strained with emotion. "you're my friend, i just—" his voice cracks. "friends don't manipulate other people's feelings." you interrupt, your voice laced with venom as you spit out each word. you're aware you look like a mess, mascara staining your cheeks. "friends don't trick and hurt you on purpose!" you yell, tongue dripping with malice. "and here's the thing. you may be the greatest, satoru, but you will never, be enough. not for suguru, not for anybody."

you almost regret saying it. targetting his biggest insecurity. but then again, he deserves it. "how could you say that?" his voice is broken, quiet, as he mumbles it out as a whisper. the eyes that you once found so stunning suddenly look just like everybody else's. they well with tears, but are quickly blinked away. "you don't get to cry, satoru," you scoff, unzipping your bag and opening the front pouch.

you toss all the letters you've written in class, all the sticky notes, every single ripped paper, every little doodle, flipping your bag over and emptying it on the floor. every single heart fluttering moment you experienced seems so dead now. "you don't get to act like you cared. it's only fair, after all." you manage to muster, fighting to keep your voice stable. tears drip down your chin as your bottom lip trembles.

every step feels like a battle, a relentless tug-of-war between what your heart wants and what your mind knows is right. leaving him behind is like tearing off a piece of your own soul, but you convince yourself it's for the better— for your own sanity, for your own self-respect. each stride forward is heavy with the weight of goodbye, each breath drawn in a struggle against the ache in your chest. and as you finally turn away, a part of you dies inside, a piece of your spirit crumbling in the wake of shattered trust and broken dreams. you can feel his eyes on your retreating figure, the silent witness to your silent agony.

this time he doesn't try to stop you. and when you leave, gojo finally allows himself to cry.

today, gojo finds himself seated next to suguru, reclaiming his former spot from before the bet. yet, everything feels different now. the idiotic jokes his friends make just aren't as funny anymore. their presence is irritating to him. he laughs, but the sound lacks the same genuine joy it once held with you. he smiles, but it's a mere shadow of the radiant expression he wore in your presence. his heart may feel a fleeting sense of happiness, but there will always be a hole where you once were.

his so-called 'buddies' don't even notice that he's at his lowest point, and he can't help but think about the way you would've noticed immediately.

how you would've sent him a cute note with his favourite candy attached, because you kept them in your bag just for him, for these kinds of days. he feels so numb. he's always been so confident, yet he can't even muster up the courage to pass by your desk.

and he can't help but wonder what might have been if he had chosen differently that day, if his intentions had been pure from the start. would you two have gotten somewhere? he supposes that now, he'll never know the answer. his eyes cloud over at that thought, slouching back down into his seat.

he never had the chance to tell you how sorry he was, how he would take it all back in an instant if he could. he didn't mean to hurt you. he was stupid and careless. and yet, he tries to convince himself that he'll be okay. that he'll be able to get over you one day. one day, when he's married and has two kids, he'll look back at this and laugh. so then why does his heart feel so heavy? you're not suguru, it's true. but suguru never made him feel this way. and he's confused with his own feelings.

he doesn't know what love is.

he's only sixteen.

perhaps he'll never know. but for him, love was sneaking kikifuku mochi into class for you to share. it was sending you cat memes at three am in the morning, only for you to groggily respond with your own. it was doodling you in his notebook in his spare time. it was how what you were feeling was how he was feeling too.

you were right, it seems.

gojo satoru, the greatest, yet not enough to make you stay.

#gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #gojo angst

2K notes · View notes

ageofstarkey · 1 year

Text

soft glow ✰ m. riddle

summary: sleepy mornings with matthéo

pairing: bf!matthéo x reader

warnings: slightly suggestive at the end, but nothing really other than that!! just tooth rotting fluff n théo who’s soft for u and no one else!! :’))

note: hi!! i’m not sure how i feel about this one but i still think it’s a lil tiny bit cute so i’m posting!! feel free to send in requests!!

masterlist

comments & reblogs are so appreciated! <3

✰ ✰ ✰

when you wake up, matthéo’s bedroom is warm with the soft glow of morning. golden rays of sunlight peek stubbornly through his drapes, and soft white noise filters steadily in through the window.

as you slowly come to, you begin to register the familiar sensation of matthéo’s touch. his calloused fingers glide almost curiously across your face; carefully tracing each curve and dip, as if to memorize your every detail.

with a soft hum, you finally blink open your eyes - squinting into the sunlight. you roll towards matthéo with a yawn, offering him a sleepy smile. “hi”

matthéo grins, smoothing a mess of tangled hair away from your face. “hi, darling.” his voice is raspy and painfully fond - and your heart aches pleasantly behind your ribcage. his hand slides casually to the back of your neck, and you quietly hope that your cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “how’d you sleep?”

“me? oh - i slept terribly” you’re aiming for deadpan in a desperate attempt to play it cool, but you wear a giddy little grin that almost certainly gives you away. “worst sleep of my life.”

“oh yeah?”

you nod with all the conviction you can muster - which admittedly isn’t much. “mhmm” with a little stretch, you’re leaning upwards to kiss his cheek. “you snore louder than my granddad.”

matthéo scoffs in mock offence, fingers poking teasingly at your side. “‘s that so?”

you nod once more, trying desperately to stifle a giggle. matthéo’s teasing is relentless, and you squirm clumsily away from his prodding fingers. in the end - it doesn’t take long for you to give in. “okay! okay - fine!” you laugh breathlessly. “you don’t snore and i had the best sleep of my life. is that what you wanted to hear?”

“yes actually. because you on the other hand - you do snore and it’s really quite loud - sort of like-”

“matthéo!” he’s being mean on purpose and you pretend to hate it. “i do not snore!”

“okay but how do you know you don’t snore, hm? i mean - if you’re asleep when it happens…” he tugs you towards his bare chest, one arm wrapped firmly around your back. “you wouldn’t really know, would you?” he punctuates his words with a soft kiss to your forehead, and you all but melt into his gentle embrace.

“i hate you.” with your face smushed against matthéo’s chest, your words come out awkward and muffled. “like - i really, really can’t stand you sometimes.”

he tugs you impossibly closer with a pleased laugh. “don’t lie, sweetheart”

“i’m not lying!”

he tilts your head upwards before slowly kissing your lips. you feel warm all over, and you chase him with a quiet whine when he pulls away. “if you really hate me, why were you screaming m-”

“you’re so awful!”

4K notes · View notes

honeytonedhottie · 20 days

Text

your guide to casual glam⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍰

your absolute go-to guide to master the art of casual glam and be glamorous even when ur not expected to be, bcuz glamor is a LIFESTYLE…💬🎀

ATTIRE ;

♡ fluffy slippers or princessy slides

♡ matching lounge sets

a matching lounge set is a MUST have for casual glamour in ur day to day life. they're perfect for just running errands, doing ur pretty girl maintenance and even just lounging around the house. they instantly make u look put together. bonus points if u accessorize accordingly…💬🎀

♡ velour/juicy couture tracksuits

♡ long flowy robes around the house

♡ bloomer shorts are absolutely adorable when ur lounging around, they make u look like a literal DOLL

MAKEUP ;

when i think of casually glamorous makeup looks i think very victoria's secret, very natural looking makeup thats kind of dewy, but has hints of glam. whether thats a shimmery gloss or a winged eyeliner…💬🎀

♡ glam makeup is all about creating a look thats not doing too much. u can capture this look by mixing in the tiniest bit of moisturizer into ur foundation. doing so will sheer out the pigment of the foundation -> resulting in less coverage BUT that gives u a skin like finish which is perfect for the casual glam.

♡ for ur eyes go for more nude/muted colors and finish with the tiniest bit of something glittery for that shimmery, glamorous look. a SLIGHTLY shimmery eye with a nude base + a winged eyeliner will EATTT.

HOT TIP ; use something with a straight edge when applying ur eyeshadow (business card for example) so that it'll make a rly clean line for ur eyeshadow. you'd put it at the end of the eye and tilt up towards ur temple…💬🎀

♡ go for a warmer blush look and use apply some mascara onto ur top lashes, but for ur bottom lashes use ur eyeliner for a more dainty natural look

CASUAL GLAM MUST HAVE ITEMS ;

♡ ur bedazzled water bottle

duh, hydration is super duper important for us to function in the best way possible and be healthy and glowing. this is ur sign to go and have some fresh, cold water…💬🎀

infused water recipes :

for some extra casual glam points, make some infused water to add some flavor and extra nutrients to ur water. you can simply add lemons, or add other fruits like strawberries and cucumbers.

♡ ur headphones

headphones are a MUST when running errands and doing miscellaneous chores. listening to music makes any task 10x better and more glamorous…💬🎀

♡ a yummy candle and a captivating task

a sweet smelling candle being lit is like, essential especially if ur going to be home all day and ofc u need a task to do so that then ur managing ur time and putting it into things that are meaningful…💬🎀

788 notes · View notes

hoshifighting · 11 days

Note

ik u have lots of request but can i request grower!dino wherein reader teases him for having no bulge when they went to the pool and he had enough of the teasing so he drags reader to the restroom and rest is history

grower!dino

WARNINGS: semi-public sex, penetrative sex, rough sex, mentions of shower x grower, dirty talk.

you lean back against the pool chair, a smirk playing on your lips as u watch him emerge from the water. chan runs a hand through his wet hair, the sunlight catching on the droplets that cling to his skin. you bite your lip, but not for the usual reasons. “so, like… is that it?” you tease, eyes flicking down to the fabric of his swim trunks. they’re clinging to him, but not in the way you were expecting. nothing there, not even a hint of a bulge. your grin widens when he glares at you, dark eyes narrowing

he’s been taking it for hours now—your playful digs, the side comments, the whispers when no one else is around. but this time, the way his jaw clenches tells you something's different. “you think this is funny?” he mutters under his breath, barely loud enough for anyone but you to hear. the air shifts, his tone isn’t as casual as before.

“yeah, kinda,” you snicker, not knowing you’re walking into something dangerous. “i mean, what’s the point of those trunks if there’s nothing to show off?”

his hand grips your wrist before you can even react. it’s firm but not painful. at least, not yet. “get up,” he commands, voice low and almost a growl. you raise a brow but don’t resist, letting him pull you off the chair and toward the changing rooms.

“what, you gonna prove me wrong?” you laugh, half-joking. but the look he shoots you makes your stomach flip. that’s when you know you’ve pushed him too far. the door slams behind you, and you barely have time to catch your breath before you’re shoved against the cool tile wall, his body pressing into yours.

“you wanna see what the fuck i’ve got?” he hisses, breath hot against your ear, one hand already slipping beneath your waistband, yanking it down with no warning. his fingers curl around your throat, just enough pressure to make your heart race. “trust me, you’re gonna feel every inch.”

you swallow hard, lips parting, but nothing comes out. not a smart comment, not another tease. your mind goes blank as he pulls himself free, thick and heavy now, far from what you were teasing him about earlier, it grew almost like a monstrosity, the length good enough to make you doubt if its going to fit.

the sight alone has you clenching your thighs together, but he’s not letting that slide. “nah, keep ‘em open,” he grunts, forcing your legs apart with his knee. “you’re not getting out of this.”

and god, you don’t want to. his hand slips between your legs, fingers finding you already wet, and he smirks against your neck. “knew you were all talk. let’s see how much you can take before you start beggin’.”

you’re not prepared when he pushes in—rough, no warning, filling you in a way that leaves you breathless. your hands fly up, gripping at his shoulders, his neck, anything to keep yourself steady as he slams into you again and again, each thrust harder than the last. you bite down on your lip to stifle the moan rising in your throat, but he’s not having that either.

“don’t you fuckin’ hold back now,” chan grits, pulling your hair back enough to expose your throat, leaving your voice no choice but to slip out, louder this time. “you wanted this, right? all that teasing, just to get me like this?”

you try to form words, to say something smart, but the way he’s hitting that perfect spot, over and over, leaves you stuttering. “fuck… chan…”

“thought so,” he sneers, fingers digging into your hips as he picks up the pace, each thrust making your pussy drool around his cock. you’re a mess, barely able to think, let alone talk back now. the tiles are cool against your skin, but your body’s burning up, you feel light-headed by how fucking deep he is.

“still got somethin’ to say about my dick now?” he asks, voice dark with satisfaction, each word punctuated by another rough thrust. you shake your head, moaning his name again, feeling your body start to give in, trembling under his grip. he’s relentless, not letting up, chasing that last bit of control you’ve been clinging to.

“good,” he grunts, one hand snaking between your bodies, fingers finding your throbbing clit and rubbing in tight, fast circles. your breath hitches, back arching, and that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge, his name spilling from your lips in a breathless moan. your legs tremble, barely holding you up, but he’s not done yet.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, thrusting into you a few more times, his pace rough, almost punishing. it’s too much and yet somehow not enough. when he finally lets go, it’s with a sly, moan sound, his grip on your waist tightening as he spills into you, hips jerking with the force of it.

for a moment, all you can hear is the sound of your own ragged breathing, the world spinning slightly as you try to catch your breath. chan presses his forehead against your shoulder, both of you panting, bodies slick with sweat and chlorine.

“still wanna tease me about it?” hhe asks after a beat, voice low, but there’s a smirk in his tone now.

you laugh weakly, barely able to find your voice. “fuck no…”

457 notes · View notes

scandalcus · 2 years

Text

𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 — ♡ 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐒

PAIRING — ellie williams x afab!reader SUMMARY — tattoo artist! ellie gives you a thigh tattoo CONTENT WARNINGS — smut, stone top!ellie, sub!reader, shy reader, enthusiastic consent, fingering, face riding, oral sex, etc. WORD COUNT — 1.7k A/N — hello sorry for not posting any fics for like a week i've had zero motivation to write and barely any to make this so i apologize if its bland and rushed. also, i made a spotify playlist dedicated to ellie if u wanna listen ❤️

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓, 18+ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘, 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

You sat anxiously in the unfamiliar room. Your leg involuntarily shook as you scanned the area. Various types of posters and drawings were displayed along the wooden walls.

Your eyes landed on the coffee table before you, observing the different comic books and trading cards scattered across it. You let out a small huff, finding it amusing how dorky Ellie is.

"Okay, I'm ready," she says, turning to you and holding a tattoo gun in her right hand. "I don't have a tattoo chair or anything so do you mind sitting on the edge of my bed?" She asks, gesturing towards her bed.

"Yeah that's fine," you say, walking up to her bed and plopping down on the edge. She makes her way over to you, her hands in the air so she doesn't contaminate any of her tools. "Where did you want the tattoo?"

"On my thigh," you say, awkwardly fumbling with your fingers. She looks up at you, and you look elsewhere in the room. You felt incredibly intimidated by her for some reason, blushing every time she looked up at you.

"You're gonna have to take your pants off." she says casually. "Right," you say, standing up and starting to unbutton your pants. She averts her gaze around her room, obviously sensing your awkwardness.

"Is this your first tattoo?" she asks, trying to make small talk as if this interaction isn't already awkward enough. "Yeah," You say, shyly sliding your pants off. "What made you want to get a tattoo?" she asks, still facing away from you. "I've been wanting one for a while, I just couldn't find a good artist." you shrug, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Good thing you found me," she says turning around to face you, giving you a reassuring smile.

You place your hands in your lap, trying to cover your panties. You purposely wore a nice pair of underwear because you knew they would be seen but you ended up slightly embarrassed by your choice. Maybe it was a little too bold.

Ellie looks up at you, this time you hold eye contact, not on purpose though. She just happened to catch you off guard and you couldn't make yourself look away.

"Lay back." she orders, you comply and stare at the ceiling, your hands still covering your intimates. She gently grabs your wrist and moves them out of the way, taking the chance to place the tattoo stencil high up on your thigh. You look down and notice a slight smirk across her lips. "I like your panties." she says, causing you to become extremely flustered.

You don't say anything in response, you just lean back and continue to look into space. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." She says, removing the stencil and grabbing her tattoo gun. "Oh it's fine, you didn't make me uncomfortable. I'm just nervous."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

She positioned herself between your thighs, unexpectedly pulling you closer to the edge of the bed so can work more comfortably on you. You audibly gasp at the sudden movement, but she ignores you and continues to adjust herself.

You hear the buzzing of the tattoo gun, followed by her hot breath against your inner thigh. She was significantly close to your heat, her knuckles barely grazing your slit, causing the hair on your body to raise.

You felt a lump form in your throat like you could hardly breathe. The needle suddenly pierces your skin, making you suck in a sharp breath. "You okay?" she asks, proceeding to drag the gun across your skin, causing a whine to escape your lips.

You let out a hum in response, feeling your panties become more and more drenched the longer she worked in between your thighs. As much as you hoped she wouldn't, she certainly did notice the wet spot growing on your panties.

The tension in the room was thick, you could sense her peeking up at you every couple of minutes. The lust felt like it was about to consume you, you couldn't help but squirm under her touch; partly because of the pain from the tattoo, but mainly due to the ache growing between your legs.

"Fuck," you breathe out, feeling slightly defeated. This immensely attractive girl was placed between you, inches away from the one place you yearned for her to be. You didn't even really know her though, she was just some tattoo artist your friend recommended to you. You couldn't help but feel humiliated by how obviously turned on you were by her.

You felt her knuckles graze you again, this time there was definitely more pressure applied. It was subtle but noticeable.

The buzzing sound comes to a sudden halt. You lift yourself up on your elbows and look down at Ellie in confusion, watching her set her gun down before grabbing a wipe and cleaning the excess ink off your skin.

"Are you done already?" you ask, looking down at your piece, noticing how unfinished it looks.

"Sorry, I'm a little distracted." Ellie sighs, placing a bandage on your fresh tattoo and removing her gloves. After discarding the trash, she comes back and places her hand above your knee, looking up at you seductively. You felt your heart thump against your chest.

"I can come back later," you say softly, acting oblivious to her suggestive mannerisms. "I don't want you to leave," she responds, her hand slowly trailing up your thigh. She simultaneously makes her way on top of you until her face is inches away from yours, her thighs cradling you.

Your body went stiff, your breathing caught in your throat. "Relax," she says softly, using her right hand to move a strand of hair out of your face. You exhale, letting yourself loosen up. "Good girl."

She hovered over you, her eyes jumping across your features. The desperation in your eyes is evident to her. She had been studying your body language when she was tattooing you, trying to resist the urge to pin you down and fuck you the entire time. She knew you wanted her as bad as she wanted you, so she gave in to her desires.

Her hand travels down to your core, massaging you through the fabric. You let out a whimper in response. "I couldn't help but notice how wet you were," she mutters, tilting her head slightly and watching you fall apart beneath her. Her eyes were dark, full of lust.

She slid her hand under your panties and slipped two of her fingers into your entrance with ease, causing you to audibly gasp. A moan escaped her lips at how snugly you fit around her. "mm fuck, you're so tight."

She pressed her lips to yours, the kiss was intense and passionate. You moaned against her lips as she continued pumping her fingers in and out of you, her thumb finding its way to your throbbing clit and rubbing circles against it.

She made her way down to your neck, sucking on the exposed skin. The pace of her thrust quickened, and you felt her knuckles slamming against your surrounding skin. A string of moans fell from your lips as you felt the tension wither from your body. Your moans and whimpers send vibrations to her lips, waves of bliss traveling through your body. She curved her fingers inside of you, causing you to jolt.

You felt an orgasm approaching, and you gripped Ellie's shoulder as your thighs trembled. She noticed how close you were and stopped, causing you to pout. She bought her fingers to her mouth and sucked your juices off of them, humming while savoring the taste. She then snakes her fingers around the hem of your panties, slowly pulling them off and stuffing them into her jean pocket.

"Come here," she says, flipping over and pulling you on top of her. You sat on top of her shyly, your bare pussy resting on her abdomen. "Come sit on my face." She demands, putting her hands on your hips and encouraging you to scoot up. You comply, adjusting yourself until your pussy is hovering over her mouth.

She pushed your hips down and buried her face into your pussy, her tongue swirling against your folds collecting all the wetness you left for her.

"Fuck... you taste so good," she moans against you. She sucked loudly on your clit, watching as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You grind your hips against her mouth, holding onto the headboard for support. Your cries grew louder and louder as she increased her movements.

She placed her hands on the curve of your ass, guiding you up and down her tongue. Unintelligible babbles left your mouth as she drew little shapes on your bundle of nerves.

"Ellie-" you cried, your thighs already shaking as she works her skilled tongue on you. She hums against your clit in response, wrapping her arms around your thighs to keep you on her face.

"Fuck, don't stop," you whine, your words slurred together as she continues to fuck you with her mouth. She managed to sneak her fingers into the mess, groaning at the way you clamp around her.

"You're almost there, cum for me." she says, coaxing you through an orgasm. Moans and curse words spill from your lips. "Just like that, you're doing so fucking good." she praises. Your body spasms as white flashes before your eyes, everything around you disappearing and pure euphoria consuming your body.

you continue to sloppily ride out your high on Ellie's face, your climax washes over you and she makes sure to catch every last drop of your release. You twitch as she uses her tongue to clean you up.

You pull yourself off of her, plopping down in the spot next to her. Both of you take a moment to catch your breath, sweat trickling down your faces. "How about we take a shower and then I finish your tattoo?" she asks, leaning towards you. "Sounds perfect." you smile, sitting up out of the bed and starting to make your way to the bathroom, your shy demeanor from before clearly absent. She lets out a chuckle at how eager you are, taking your hand and letting you guide her to the bathroom.

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃. 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 ♡

#i dont like this #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #wlw smut #lesbian smut #tlou smut #the last of us #the last of us smut #the last of us 2 #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams imagine

5K notes · View notes

muldermuse · 2 months

Text

An Unlikely Hero (ex boyfriend!Billy Butcher x reader)

this is going to be a multi part series!!! i love exboyfriend!butcher and he is on my mind constantly. if u would like to read more about him here’s some more posts! if you wanna talk about him pls send me your thoughts ❤️ dividers by @saradika ❤️

part one: the first date

the first time you meet Billy Butcher

You swore to yourself that this was the last Tinder date you’d subject yourself to. Last week, you matched and met with Jack who had a Homelander sleeve tattoo and cried to you about how hard it was to be a ‘true American’ nowadays. The week before that, it was Shay who seemed sweet but kept trying to ply you with drinks and invite you back to his place (he bragged that his ‘folks were out of town’, which would be impressive if you were a hell of a lot younger than you actually are). This week’s date is named Harry and he’s just not right for you. You thought it over texts but as soon as you sat down with him tonight; it was confirmed. It’s not even like you have a great previous relationship as a point for comparison, all romantic love has been fleeting and, with how things are going currently, you imagine it always will be.

It's a few hours later and Harry’s suddenly a lot drunker than you. You’ve moved from the overpriced restaurant to your favourite bar. The drinks are questionable in that they’re both incredibly cheap and very strong. You grab two stools at the bar which is overwise empty, apart from one man nursing a whiskey. You’re sure Harry’s drunker than you because he’s currently sobbing into his craft beer about how he hasn’t felt a connection with anyone since his ex-girlfriend, who left him 3 months ago for a co-worker.

“Like, you’re nice y’know. You seem like a nice girl” you try not to recoil at the phrase “but my ex? She was great. There’s no one else who’s ev-hic-ever been like her and there never will be”. The guy sat next to you at the bar mutters a “fuckin’ ell” under his breath as he gestures towards the bartender for another neat whiskey. His accent is completely out of place in this local dive bar; he sounds European. No trace of an american accent so you consider that he could be a tourist who’s wandered into a bar looking for a cold drink and some respite.

You try not to smirk at the utterance and tune back into what Harry’s saying, “I think we’ve both just gone through the motions tonight, don’t you agree? I can tell you’re not really into me and to be honest, I’m not into you”. You kind of admire his candor because he’s right, you’re not into him in the slightest but the next thing out of his mouth quickly dispels any misplaced respect you held for him. “I’ve been real lonely since she left though…maybe you could come back to my place-hic-she’s uh…some of her stuff is still there but there’s not a lot of it in the bedroom”. He’s that plastered that what he assumed would be a casual hand slide up your thigh becomes a full push, hurtling you into the whiskey sipping man next to you. You fall into his chest, it’s strong and kind of feels like slamming into a wall.

“Right, tha’s fuckin’ it” the potential tourist speaks and it’s only when he stands up that you realise how broad he is. He’s tall with thick black hair and the beard to match. His outfit is seemingly prepared for a spectrum of weathers with a Hawaiian shirt clashing with a thick overcoat. He’s older than you, definitely older but absolutely attractive. More attractive than anyone you’d seen on Tinder or, probably, ever in your life. “You alright there darlin’?” his dark eyes bore into yours as you nod and cough out a meek ‘yes’. You silently curse yourself, the first thing you say to this strong man makes you sound like a small frightened mouse.

“’M jus’ gonna get rid of your little pal there and then I’ll buy ya a drink- alright?” his hand rubs your bare arm and sends a flurry of goosebumps across your skin. The whole interaction feels more charged than anything you’ve had before with another human, you wonder if he’s feeling it too and pray that he is.

“Oh nice one man, I’ll have uh…another craft” Harry gestures towards the tap, completely oblivious to the situation in front of him

“All you’re fuckin’ gettin’ cunt is a helpin’ hand out that fuckin’ door. Now, I’ll ask ya politely one last fuckin’ time…fuck off” he elongates the 3 letter word. A comically confused look spreads across Harry’s face. “’M on a fucking date here man and she’s coming back to mine, aren’t you?”

“No” you quickly deadpan, shaking your head at the still unnamed man.

“There’s your answer then cunt, off ya fuck”

“Butcher- no fuckin’ blood on my bar this time man” the bartender shouts whilst idly checking his phone. Butcher? Is that the guy’s name?

Harry stands up, pushing out his chest which, if anything, only exaggerates how small he is in comparison. “I’ve bought her meal, paid for her drink and I’m go-hic-gonna take her back to my place and fuck her”. He finishes his sentence in Butcher’s face. Whilst you see a flicker of fear cross Harry’s expression; Butcher’s look borders on hysterical.

“Alright then big fella, I’ll tell ya what’s gonna happen” he slams his hand down on Harry’s shoulder, his eyes now boring into his. “You’re gonna fuck off back to your shitty little home, grab some lube, cry and wank to ya heart’s content about your ex who is probably ridin’ some big fat fuckin’ dick right now-yeah?” Butcher nods as if Harry’s going to agree with him.

Your date goes to interrupt but Butcher presses a finger to his quaking lips before he can start, “what’s not gonna happen, my sad little mate, is that you’re going to fuck her. She’s hadta listen to your fuckin’ whinin’ about your ex all night whilst you’ve fuckin’ insulted this gorgeous woman. So, get out before I throw ya through the fuckin’ window”. Harry’s lost for words, he doesn’t make eye contact with you as you stand silently behind Butcher. You see tears brimming in his eyes as he smacks $20 on the bar top.

“Fuckin’ old asshole” Harry spits as he shoves past the pair of you.

Butcher smirks at the remark, watching the door swing shut behind Harry before turning to you. “Right darlin’, whatcha havin’?”

It’s the best date you’ve ever been on and it’s not even a real date. You finally got his full name. Billy Butcher. Your heart races just to say it. He’s from London but has been in the States for a while. He asks all about you and you surprisingly find you’ve got a lot in common. He’s funny, charming and really fucking exciting- you have to admit. By the third drink, the chat goes from conversational to more flirty.

“The bartender said ‘this time’, do you do this a lot? Love saving a damsel in distress? Are you a hero, Billy Butcher?” you smirk at him and he returns it back to you. There’s lust in his eyes and you see him take your appearance in for what feels like the upteenth time since you sat down.

As he goes to speak, the bell rings for last orders and he takes your hand to help you off the bar stool. You down the remnants of your drink together and he puts his arm around you and escorts you out of the bar.

You don’t want it to end, he lights a cigarette and you thank any higher deity for the extra thinking seconds it gives you. He speaks before you get chance, “Will ya let me walk you home darlin’? Swear on my mum’s life I won’t try any funny business”. He holds his hand out like he’s making a scouts honour. Honestly, you do anything to spend a bit more time with him so you smile, link your arm with his and pull him down the quiet streets.

The air makes you feel drunker than you are. If you were sober, there is no way you’d be giggling like a school girl at everything this man is saying, yet here you are. Your arms are linked and you’re resting your head on his shoulders as you tell him about your horrific dating history. Everytime he laughs and accuses you of exaggerating you say, “Billy Butcher, I would never ever lie to you”. You say it because his name feels so fun sliding off your tongue. You barely see anyone on your walk home and the sound of your shared laughter fills the empty streets.

As you turn down your street, you wish you lived miles away so you could keep walking together for hours. Your stomach drops at the thought that you’ll never see him again. Which, you completely realise, is fucking stupid. This stranger threatened your date to leave but he also made you feel safe and laugh harder than you have in months. You pull his stride to a stop outside your house. It feels like some awful hallmark romcom or trashy romance novel.

You thank him for escorting you home and he turns down a nightcap in your house as “it’s not gentlemanly on the first date”. He shoots you a wicked grin again as he says, “my mum would be spinnin’ in her grave darlin’”.

You try not to let the heartbreak from that sentence show on your expression. “You’re a gentleman, Billy Butcher?”

“The best one around darlin’. I’ll prove it tomorrow when I take ya out for lunch”

A brief flare of anger hits you, “yeah, I hear that all the fucking time. The lunch never happens, I don’t see you again but then we bump into each other at the store and you apologise and say you’ll be in touch which, of course, you never will be”. You regret it as soon as you stop speaking.

Before you can apologise, he grabs a sharpie out of his coat pocket, takes your hand and scribbles down his number. “There, alright? You call me at any time gorgeous and I swear, I’ll fuckin’ answer and come runnin’”

His kiss to your cheek is soft yet restrained. “You’ll forget about me Billy Butcher, I know it”.

“S’not fuckin’ possible, darlin’”. He says goodnight and walks down your street. A plume of cigarette smoke trailing after him.

He keeps his word.

40 minutes later, and after one final glass of wine, you call him.

He answers on the first ring and says your name. He tells you where to meet tomorrow and what time to get there.

You hope he can always keep his promises.

242 notes · View notes

viviaj · 8 months

Text

a man who just wants you and needs you and would do anything for you (gone sexual)

// this is a self-insert.. it can be abt anyone u want ;3 !! but if u need some help: atsumu, kaeya, zoro, wriothesely, shoyo.. literally anyone that’s funny but also ;) KUROO

he’s been making you laugh all night. lighthearted conversation not slowing down, and countless attempts at getting you to roll your eyes at him. he looks good, too, like, casual good. black sweats and freshly washed hair.

he’s sitting on your bed, feet flat on the floor looking up at you as you go about your business. he’s a strange guy, he says something unfunny, yet its hard to not laugh. its cringey and genuinely stupid, yet comforting all the same.

you’ve been parading some new clothes on for yourself, styling pieces for him to nod and approve at. the way you move around is everything to him. he could just watch you, permanently. he wouldn’t need his phone, or a book or a computer. just you.

and that has him hard in his pants. just watching you do your thing, your glow from previously being out, with friends and at the shops— it didn’t matter.

“hey,”

“yeah?” you cheerily turn toward him, eager to keep conversation alive.

“come here,” his smile has you complicit, walking over to him, “wanna sit?”

you look down.

eyes fluttering between how hard he is and his eyes— at how fast this all changed. he’s so pretty and you just want to nod and nod and nod to him, that you’d do anything with him.

“yes, i do. yeah, okay. i don’t wanna hurt you, though, so—”

“here,” he interrupts you, guiding your hips down, “yeah, just like that,” the genuine smile on his face gives you courage.

neither of you dare to move once you’re fully sat, no one shifting or grinding, just resting on each other.

“do you feel what you do to me?” he almost laughs in exasperation. everything he says is so genuine, “i’m hard just thinking about you.” the honesty hurts.

the man underneath you is everything. he’s so sincere now that he’s not trying to make you laugh, not trying to make you roll your eyes at the stupid things he says. he doesn’t have to work for your attention.

“can i move?” you whisper, his cock so painfully there. your eyes don’t move from his.

“yeah, just— shit,” he hisses, “fuck. slowly. just rock back and forth a little.”

and it’s so easy. it’s so easy and he’s looking right at you and he’s telling you how good it feels, and god, don’t you know how long he’s wanted this for?

“is this okay? i mean, does it feel good? am i doing—”

“perfect,” he reaches a hand up to the back of your head, “it’s perfect.” his large hand pulls your head down to his, face to face with what you’re doing, who you’re doing.

he looks down at your lips, breaking the unbreakable eye contact you’d had so far, and presses his lips against yours. your hips stutter here and there, unused to the motion, but desperate to keep it there.

“let me take care of you.”

you nod.

his hands are polite on your hips, firm in how he handles you. he slides himself to the head of the bed, patting right between his open legs.

“saved you a spot,” he grins. and you remember this is the same man from an hour ago. you roll your eyes, yet sit right there, your back pressed to his chest, “this okay?” he says with his hands so close to your waistband. you nod again.

“you’re very compliant with me.” he says, and there’s nothing— no words, that could justify that. because he’s right, “i almost expected you to laugh at me more.” his slender fingers dip beneath your clothes, and he’s kind of an asshole, but he’s touching you so nicely.

“oh,” you grab onto his wrist, “feels good,” he nods against your skin.

his other hand just wants to feel you. the outside of your neck, the crease in your elbow. the curve of your ear, the shape of your breasts.

it’s obsessive.

your head drops onto his shoulder, your eyes turning to meet his and you realise he’s been looking at you this whole time. you avert your eyes, a slight red brushing your cheeks.

he’s still looking at you with a slight smile on his face. “you shy?”

“a little,” you reply for integrity’s sake.

he absolutely beams.

all the while you can feel him right against your back. he’s right there. just playing with you, hooked on every whimper and moan and twitch he can get from you.

“i’ve been waiting so long for you, you have no idea.” his sincerity is overwhelming and so are his fingers.

you nod. because that’s all you can do. “another, another. please.” you pant towards him.

“another what? tell me what you want.” he’s smiling, you can feel it.

“finger. please. can i, please?” oh, he melts. your voice softening for him and your body tense against his cock, he feels like he’s going to cum in his pants. he might.

“of course. whatever you want.” his free hand glides against your jaw, fingers grazing the side of your neck. he needs to kiss it, and bite it and leave something there. maybe as proof that this is real, that he has you how he wants you. feeling good.

so he does, he laps at your neck slowly. his fingers don’t stop fingering you, but he raises his thumb to rub at you. and that has you really going. twitching back into him, jumpy moans and sweet noises coming from you, uncontrollably it seems. your hand goes to cover your mouth.

“don’t ruin a good thing, baby. move your hand. let me hear you.”

“it’s embarrassing,” you stutter out.

he grins again, teeth grazing your neck. “i know. it’s okay.”

and it’s when you cum, with hips bucking and hand gripped onto his wrist, that he doesn’t stop.

tears well up in your eyes, “i came. i came, i came,” you chant, maybe he didn’t notice, maybe he didn’t realise.

“i know.” there’s no emotion in his voice, he’s so concentrated, so invested in what he can get out of you. what sounds, what actions, the way you move. it’s like he’s on a timer, he only has so much of it with you and he needs to milk it to its fullest.

“it’s sensitive, please. it’s too much,” tears well up in your eyes.

“you gonna cry?”

you nod against him.

“i’m sorry,” he presses his lips to where he’s bitten your neck, “brave girl. tough it out.”

what he says leaves you with no choice. something clicks in your head and you nod over and over again.

you whine and cry, blubbering words and sentences that don’t make sense. sensing that you’re going to cum again, you push against his fingers.

“don’t. stay still.”

“i can’t,” you whine, “i can’t again.”

“you can.” he smiles. he smiles and smiles and all you can do is twitch and cry out.

and when you cum for him again, pleasure overwhelming every part of you, he flips you onto your back, strong hands gently laying you back.

“my turn,” his grin melts as he presses the head of his cock into you. he preens at the feeling of you hugging him, “oh fuck. feels perfect. you’re perfect.”

your eyes scrunch closed, blubbering like someone who’s forgotten speech.

he’s sliding in and out of you, wanting to feel every single centimetre of himself in you. it’s heaven and he can’t believe that this will have to end.

your head starts to hit the soft headboard, tears still pilled up from the overstimulation on your body.

and then it just stops. he pulls out of you.

“back to you baby,” his hands slide against you once more, and you know it’s going to end with you sobbing against him.

a fun night.

561 notes · View notes

swee7dream · 3 months

Note

hi vixy! i miss you sm 😞🫶 being here is just not the same when i'm not interacting w/ you (ノ_＜。) and im here in your inbox for a request!

remember when i always gush about your use of endearments? atm, im craving for a hc fic of 7dreamies using their favorite endearment/petname/nickname for reader >< i absolutely think that they have their own ways and the oddest yet the most endearing nicknames for their special ppl and i think about it everytime i read your fics bcuz there is that kind of spice of it in your works (*^-^) and i love it ^^

i hope you're doing well, love! have a great day (人´ｴ`*)♪

xoxo, wynnie.

7dream's nicknames for their partners nct dream x f!reader

genres fluff, established relationship warnings feminine pet names used, quasi-suggestive but not really ( renjun ) author's note omg not the love letter in my inbox !!! love u 5ever wynnie . sorry the bulletpoints are kinda short, i tried to make up for it in the mini-fics ! ty for the request + i hope u like it !

mark lee (ᓀ‸ᓂ)

a very simple, casual guy

babe, dude (romantically), my girl

he can’t even tease you when you tell him it gives you butterflies because he’s the exact same way, giggling into his hand and turning away to hide his silly grin from you

call him dude though? he’ll be sulky until the next day (as if, he melts into a puddle with just one kiss)

“dude,” mark calls out from the hallway, still unsure where everything is still, being your first sleepover. “have you seen my charger? i don’t know where i left it.” “i dunno, man. you should ask your girlfriend.” “wow…” he extends the word in between laughter. he shuffles in his slides back into the bedroom, doubling over your body laying comfortably under sheets. “you are my girlfriend.” “nuh-uh. i’m your dude. your bro. your homeslice.” you over-emphasize the last word, flicking your tongue like a snake. “more like my homewife.” he giggles, reaching up to peck your lips. “that was terrible.” “come on! that’s worth at least half a point.” “negative eight thousand points.”

huang renjun ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა

my love, darling, sweetheart

in my heart of hearts i view huang renjun as the definition of a romantic

maybe he won’t have diamond necklaces for you every date night, but he always makes sure to show his love in the small, important things

he has your favorite snack for when you get home, changes the bedsheets when you forget to, and refills the soap bottles in the bathroom before you even notice you’re running low

“you took care of the dishes.” renjun jumps in his seat, not even hearing when you came in. “i did.” he turns from his canvas to look at you, smiling as you’re already wrapping your arms around his waist. “how was your day, my love?” “exhausting. you are the sexiest man alive, you know that?” you mumble into his hair. “for washing dishes?” “so hot.” you nod, squeezing him tighter. “gee, thanks,” he chuckles, reaching a hand up to scratch your head. “how about a bath? wash away all that exhaustion.” “join me?” you pout. “of course, darling.”

lee jeno ૮ .◜◡◝ა

doll, baby, babydoll

you are a living, breathing doll to him and everyone needs to know!!!!!

he forgets he’s literally mr. ferragamo sometimes and just stares at you with super heart eyes like:

wow (ෆ人ෆ) that’s my baby

“what about this one?” you spin in to give jeno a 360. “i really liked it in the store but i’m not so sure about it now.” “you’re the prettiest girl ever, doll.” jeno sits with his legs spread, his hands in the middle holding the edge of the chair he sits on. “pretty, pretty, pretty.” “thank you, jen.” you look at him. “but i’m asking about the clothes. i don’t know if this shade suits me! or maybe it’s the texture of the clothes? actually, it might be the material.” “everything suits you. if it doesn’t, it’s because the designer was stupid. you’re the pinnacle of fashion, babydoll.” “you’re silly.” you giggle, walking toward him to dig your fingers into the back of his hair. “you don’t think i should return it?” “absolutely not. you look great in red, baby.” “this is white, jen.” “whatever. gimme a kiss.”

lee donghyuck ʕ˙Ⱉ˙‧:ʔ

baby, sunshine, sweetheart (derogatory)

outsiders looking in eavesdropping on your conversations don’t know if you’re about to bite each other heads off or make out against the wall

what else could you expect from haechan ‘dating is so boring, let's be best friend and act like in a relationship’ lee

you feel a dark energy looming over your shoulder, as you often have since saying yes to your first date with hyuck. you continue to feel it as your card taps on the reader, beeping happily at the successful payment, unaware of the incoming chaos. “oh heck yeah! thanks for the food, sis!” haechan’s hand sneaks around to hold the back of your head, pulling you into a deep kiss. he only squeals like an anime girl as your hands slide up to push him away and turn to the cashier, apologizing profusely and failing to convince them that you’re not, in fact, related. “thanks for treating me, sweetheart.” “hey siri, search shooting ranges near me.” “wait, baby no-”

na jaemin ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

lovey, princess, my muse

fun fact: he loves being called prince. having matchy matchy names makes his heart full and gives his life purpose (his words)

i put those three down but honestly, it really depends on the day. he’s constantly making new ones every single hour

he sees you in the flowers growing in the cracks in the sidewalk (‘petal’), in the songs of the birds outside (‘birdy’), in that one painting he saw back in a museum in italy (‘angel’)

“oh wait, i like these!” you swipe through some candid photos jaemin took of you of a trip you two took a while back on his phone. “how come you didn’t send me these?” “if i sent you every picture i took of you you would think i’m a crazed stalker.” “i know you are and i still love you.” you smile at him before turning back to the phone screen. “urgh. you’re always changing my name in your contacts. what is it now?” “munchy.” “munchy?” you stare at him with your eyes furrowed, having turned in slow motion as if you heard him wrong. “that was the name of one of the tortoises we saw at the zoo. he was so cute. it reminded me of you when you eat pasta. so you’re munchy.” “…okay, jaem. thanks, i think.”

zhong chenle (ᯟ︿ᯏ)

babe, dollface, beautiful

surprisingly, not a big petname user. not at first at least

but one time he clocked you getting pouty and in your head and learned that you liked being called sweet things other than your name.

“what’s wrong with your name? i like your name, dollface.” you can see something switch inside of his mind. “mmm, okay. i’ll try.”

“i miss you…” even through the phone, chenle can’t help but smile at your voice. “please don’t die.” “i’m at the grocery store for ice cream you asked for, dollface. i’m not gonna die.” “what if you get hit by a car?” you sniffle, hormones overwhelming you. “i’ll survive.” “how do you know?” “i just do. you should know by now i’m superman, babe.” “fly home, le. wanna cuddle.” “don’t threaten me with a good time.” he chuckles, phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder as he places your ice cream—and a couple other things he thought you might appreciate—on the counter to be rung up. “stay put, beautiful. i’m coming.”

park jisung (∩˃o˂∩)

babe, dude, pretty (used EXCLUSIVELY behind closed doors)

bro gets embarrassed just breathing air, you think he’s gonna have the guts to be cheesy with you in public?

even calling you babe in public has him with his voice lowered.

it’s really counteractive considering being so shy about things brings only more attention to him from his friends

“could you pass me my phone?” jisung’s request flies over your head as the group conversation is alive and well around you. “babe,” he mutters, finally getting your attention. “can you pass me my phone?” in good 7dream fashion, all the boys ‘ooh’ at him, haechan and mark fangirling obnoxiously. “baby darling sugarplum angelface!” donghyuck mocks, laughing at jisung holding his head in his hands, being consoled by your rubbing his back. “could you pass me my phone, my darling sweetheart pookiebear cupcake?”

author's note i fear i'm running out of themes for fic headers !!!!! why was i not blessed with the moodboard bone all my other lovely mutuals have D:

327 notes · View notes

girlboybug · 2 years

Text

Shades of Cool

“my baby lives in shades of cool, cold heart and hands of aptitude.”

or the one where joel can’t seem to stay away from you despite his efforts to. but it’s not like he tried very hard to begin with.

what’s playing 🎧 : shades of cool by lana del rey

pairing : joel miller x female!reader

word count : 9k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, creampie, breeding kink if u squint, oral f receiving, fingering, loss of virginity, virginity kink if u squint yet again, tummy bulge, unspecified age gap and joel kind of has a thing for it, unprotected sex, (pls wear a condom guys im just a mf on tumblr) multiple orgasms, a tad of overstimulation, allusions to male masturbation, dirty talk, pet names, mating press, prone bone, light dom/sub dynamics, reader def has some unresolved daddy issues mean!joel but theres some soft joel

TRIGGER WARNINGS : minor character death/reference to his death but he literally doesn't exist in the show i promise, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of guns, implied/references to sexual harassment

a/n : this is my first time uploading to tumblr, forgive me if my layout is funky lol, anyways pls enjoy <3 read the second part here

you swallowed hard when you saw joel making his way towards the alleyway you two routinely met up in. watching as he did his typical side to side glance, casual in presence but it was muscle memory for him to ensure the safety of his environment no matter it’s location or the mundaneness of it.

you quite disliked the feeling that pricked your chest and quickly spread inside the cavity, overflowing up into your throat and drowning out any coherent thoughts in your mind whenever you saw joel.

it was annoying. pathetic even. just a silly schoolgirl crush you hoped would go away in time.

you put aside the fluttering feelings for later, and waved, catching his attention. he sent a curt nod, rubbing his palms together before pushing them into his denim pockets. “hey.” he greeted you, if you could really call it that.

you took whatever you could get from him, so you smiled, parroting it back with a nervous politeness.

“do you have the uh…” you trailed off, feeling embarrassed that you struggled to even verbalize what you were trading.

he raised a brow, folding his arms over his chest, looking at you expectingly. “i got it. you got the rations?” he finished speaking for you and you nodded enthusiastically, hurriedly pulling out the thick wad of rations you worked your ass off for.

he shut his eyes with exasperation for a few seconds before hovering his larger hand over the wad, miraculously dwarfing your own hand. “don’t wave it around kid, jesus,” he sighed, shaking his head while palming it and sliding it away into his back pocket.

“sorry…” you muttered embarrassedly.

he didn’t reply, and instead handed you a box, bright purple and pink and your gaze slowly rose up to his face with a slightly ajar mouth. “uh. joel.” you started, voice leading into an upward trail of confusion.

“if i wanted tampons i could have easily gotten this myself.” you wanted to hide the slight irritation in your tone but he caught on to it, unfolding his arms to jab the top of the box with his index finger. “how about you open it smartass.” he instructed dryly, moving backward and refolding his arms.

your eyes lingered on him tryingly for a few more seconds, huffing quietly to yourself before flipping the cardboard flap up.

again. tampons.

you tilted it towards him and he dragged his hand down his face tiredly. he dug his hand into the box, the tampons shoved to the sides, revealing a small pistol.

your mouth fell open into a comical O shape, laughing in awe. “oh!” you giggled and joel stared at you blankly, already feeling a hankering for a straight shot of whiskey at the bright and early hour of 8:30am.

“very creative.” you beamed and it seemed as though joel fought back a smile behind a glare. at least, you told yourself that.

“just enough for gullible people.” he pushed at a button of yours, just a little, and you paused for a second, shooting him a playful glare. “whatever,” you exhaled through a quiet chuckle.

“thank you joel, i appreciate the um. tampons, i was running low.” you played along with the bit and he rolled his eyes, nodding, already ready to go back home.

“sure thing.” he was about to turn and walk out of the alleyway but something held him in his spot.

he took in a deep inhale before making eye contact with you, rendering you back into your nervous state from when he first arrived.

“why do you need a pistol? we’ve only ever traded for small things. why the sudden big order?” he has absolutely no clue why he’s asking you this, or rather, he has no idea why he’s letting himself ask this.

he shouldn’t care. he doesn’t.

you stiffened, straightening your back and holding the box to your stomach, hands cupping the bottom of it. “just to keep at my place. thought i’d feel safer with it.” you answered truthfully, making sure to not go further into detail.

his squinted eyes stay on you for awhile, unsure of what you needed to feel safe from. “are you uh…in any trouble?” he asks and you feel a little excitement ignite in your lower belly.

is he worried about you?

“no! no not at all, i just…i don’t know,” you try to laugh it off but the silence between you two just feels heavy instead. “why do you ask?” you question and he shrugged.

“if you’re in trouble, i don’t need it somehow coming back to me. i got enough shit i need to worry about.” he answered and the bubble inside you popped and deflated almost immediately.

“oh, well no need to worry about that. it’s nothing like that, you’ll be fine.” you decided to end the conversation there, a cold feeling of humiliation that prods at your shoulders and throat alerting you that it’s best to just walk away before you can say anything else that might make the situation more unbearable.

“thanks joel.” you added, quickly making your way out the alleyway. “be careful with that thing.” he called out after you, and you feel the bubble slowly start to shamelessly inflate itself once more.

maybe he does care. even if it’s just a little.

—

you hid the box in the shoddy nightstand you had lugged up into your apartment from off the street one night, and exhaled lowly, pursing your lips. “this is good.” you stated to yourself.

the whole reason why you wanted a gun, was kind of useless if you really put some actual thought into it.

it really was just for the comfort of your mind, putting the nerves you had at ease. like a security blanket of sorts.

fedra soldiers occasionally conduct inspections, making a mess of people’s homes to look for any contraband, firefly propaganda, weapons, anything that so much acts as an eyesore to them is grounds for permanent confiscation.

there’s a specific solider that just makes you uncomfortable, makes your skin prickle up into sharp goosebumps and makes your stomach churn like dry gears rubbing up against each other.

the way his eyes follow you around, rejoicing in his power over you and how you cowered away from him.

they come in as pairs to inspect and even if they didn’t, he was still taller, stronger, heavily armed and trained and could kill you in front of a crowd of people and still face no consequences. so a singular witness wouldn't stop him from breaking the rules.

if anything, you’ve probably just put yourself in more danger carrying a weapon. but you felt that if you had it, you maybe had a fighting chance in case push came to shove.

you collected yourself into your very depressing excuse of a bed, lifting the fraying crotched blanket over your body, pretending you were anything less than semi uncomfortable.

the next morning, you woke up with a slightly sore feeling that resided in just about every crevice of your body but you ignore it, as it’s a common thing to wake up to if you’ve got what basically feels like laying on a napkin as a bed, and using what feels like an even thinner napkin as a blanket.

you readied yourself to participate in street clean up, since you had to take on more shifts than usual to make up for the hefty chunk of rations you gave to joel.

—

a bandana resided around your nose, neatly but tightly tied behind your head, doing…definitely not enough to cover the stench of cleaning the sludge off the streets.

"the fuck would i need coffee beans for asshole? hit me up when you’ve actually got good shit to trade.” you overheard two guys a few feet away from you bickering, your ears perking up at the mention of coffee beans.

you remembered joel vaguely mentioning how he’d kill for a cup of coffee, and you agreed on that sentiment, even though you’ve never once had coffee. the point being, he’d been out of coffee for awhile, unable to find anyone who has it, and you figured maybe scoring him a bag would be a nice sign of gratitude for the pistol.

you pulled down your bandana, walking over to the guy once the other one walked off. “hi, um i didn’t mean to eavesdrop but i heard you have coffee beans? i’d be willing to trade for them.”

“i don’t take kindly to nosy—“ he cut himself off mid sentence once he turned to look at you, his eyes dragging up and down your body and you wondered in that moment if it was worth the hassle of talking to this. thing.

but then you thought of joel, and how maybe he’d smile at you, thank you with a tight bear hug and suddenly, it did all seem worth it.

“yeah, yeah i’d definitely be happy to trade with you,” he grinned and you laughed, trying to hide your disgust with fake excitement. “great! what would you want for it? i have some spare shampoo bars, a pair of wool socks i was saving for winter, or—“

he cut you off this time, leaning into your space closer and you instinctively backed away. “i was thinking maybe something different.” he alluded to something that made cleaning up literal shit off the street seem a lot more pleasant.

your face fell and you lifted up your bandana. “yeah, nevermind. thanks anyway.”

you turned on your heel and he groaned, calling after you. “the socks…” he huffed, rubbing the side of his chin. “are they soft?” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

you tugged down the bandana again, smiling brightly. “very!”

—

you scheduled another meet up with joel, excited to gift him the bag of coffee beans.

you were slightly sad to let go of the socks, your feet always got so cold in the winter and the nights were already starting to increase in frigidness, but it’s okay, you could always find another pair of socks again, but you didn’t know if you’d have another chance to pleasantly surprise joel like this.

against joel’s typical judgment, he said to just stop by his apartment, feeling too tired to lug himself down into the alleyway again.

but all you heard from that was he trusted you enough into his personal space. which, as much as joel would deny it, is true.

he could clearly envision you apologizing to a fly for so much as being in its way, so inviting you over posed as nowhere near a threat.

you knocked at his door, hiding the bag behind your back before he opened it. the wind got knocked out of you once more at the sight of him. he was very much older than you, easily the age of a man who could be your father, but that didn’t erase any of his attractiveness.

in the deepest part of your subconscious, you knew that that’s what added onto it.

“hi!” you chirped and he stepped to the side, widening his door to let you in. “hi.” he repeated, drier but, not unhappily.

“what’d you wanna trade for again?” he asked, his hand rubbing the side of his stubbly jaw, and you had to look away, knowing you’d just watch him in silence if you didn’t.

“actually,” you hummed, nearly bursting at the seems with glee. he watched you curiously, unaware of the slight smile on his face as he watched you tip toe closer with your hand still behind your back.

“i didn’t come by to trade. i got you a gift!” he rested his palms behind him on the small table, his broad shoulders seeming even broader now and you wanted to run your hands across the expanse of them.

“a gift?” he asked, breaking you out of your trance. he sounded genuinely shocked, almost unable to believe you. “mhm!” you nodded, a smile still etched on your features.

“close your eyes, and open your hands.” you instructed, and he tilted the side of his head to you, wordlessly saying really?

you nudged your chin, motioning for him to listen, your way of replying with yes, really.

he eyed you before shaking his head, standing up straight and closing his eyes, his palms bared out for you, muttering a quiet, i have no idea why i’m listenin’ to you.

you plopped the bag of coffee into his hands, sing songing a soft “now open!”

he opened his eyes, his lips parting in awe. he laughed out of disbelief, and your heart soared with joy as you saw him smile, and widely at that.

“kid…you…why? i mean, god, thank you, but why?” he asked and you shrugged, rocking back and forth on your heel to your toes. “take it as a thanks for my pist-i mean tampons.” you joked and he chuckled, shaking his head and putting the beans down onto the table.

“well, thank you, that’s mighty kind of you.” he looked downward at you, and you looked back up at him, trying to memorize the way his lips were curled, the sweet lines by his eyes and the way he just seemed so happy by such a small act of kindness.

“no biggie!” you replied, and he darted his eyes away for a moment before turning back to you. “do you know how to use your gun?” he asked and you felt your face grow hot with slight embarrassment.

“uh. i mean you just aim and pull the trigger right?” you asked honestly and he blinked a few times before shaking his head. “okay so you don’t.” and you squinted at him. “i could teach you. get you some extra bullets too.” he remedied the half joking comment with his offer and you perked up.

“yeah? you would?” you asked excitedly and he nodded. “‘course. you just went from tolerated, to slightly more tolerated in my book. so i’m gonna help you not accidentally shoot yourself in the foot.”

you didn’t like how you actually felt a twinge of sadness at his obvious joke about only tolerating you. he was kidding, but sometimes it was hard to tell because he had the same monotone, slightly annoyed at everything everyone has to say, kind of voice.

and you were a sensitive person, and even the most harmless jokes could manage to sting you.

“well jeez aren’t you sweet.” you complimented with sarcasm. joel threw on his flannel, ignoring your comment. you stepped aside while he made his way to the door.

“you comin?” he looked at you, opening the door behind him, waiting for you to follow. you turned around to look behind you stupidly, then back to him. “what?” you asked confusedly and he fought the urge to roll his eyes and take back his offer.

“we’re gonna start now.” he inclined his head out the door, motioning for you to come along. and who were you to decline doing anything with joel.

—

joel was here. in your apartment. in your space, in your air. he was sitting on your bed, the place where you’d occasionally, frequently shove your fingers into places you just knew joel would be able to reach with no effort.

he ran his fingers over the barrel of the gun, drumming against its ridges and for a moment you felt a bit envious over the literal inanimate object.

“cmere,” he patted the space next to him, waiting for you to be seated so he could get started.

with wobbly legs you made your way to him, smoothing over your jeans in an attempt to secretly wipe away your clammy palms.

“show me how you hold it.” he placed it in your hands and it felt foreign to the touch. it was heavier than you expected it to be but you tried to conceal your inexperience by holding it the way you’ve seen others handle their firearms.

you pointed it at the door, pretending that soldier was in front of you, finger on the trigger and hands at the bottom of it, supporting your grasp.

he observed your hold, a low hmm coming from the back of his throat. “not terrible.” he adjusted your hands, your skin latching onto his heat, claiming it as yours as his body hovered around your side.

“how’s that feel?” he asked and you cleared your throat, blinking a few times and avoiding his close stare. “it uh, it feels better.” you answered and he clicked his tongue, nodding curtly to himself.

“alright. now, when you run out of bullets, the magazine at the bottom might drop out but if it doesn’t, you’re gonna take it out and reload, you wanna be fast if you’re in the middle of, well whatever situations got you needing to pull out a gun.” there was a slight cadence of a joke in his gun lesson 101, and it made a giddy feeling return to your tummy.

he reached in his back pocket, pulling out what you assumed he meant by magazine.

he explained the logistics of your newly owned weapon, trying to use terms you’d be able to follow along with, not unaware of how you were watching and listening intently, hanging on to every word he spoke.

you were too damn obvious.

—

you saw more of joel after that, bumping into him in places you usually didn’t see him, yet seemingly excited every time you met.

his aloof stare slowly turned softer when it landed on you, maybe it never changed at all but to you it definitely felt different.

he swore it was you that had been following him, an air of playfulness in his accusations of you stalking him, but really it was him.

he unable to admit to himself that he wandered around the areas he knew you were usually found in, wanting to scold you for having such an easy routine to follow but he kept it to himself.

he watched you walk beside him, taking in the sights of the town, wondering how you could possibly appreciate the hellhole that surrounded you all.

“so how’s the coffee? any good?” you asked, turning back to look at him, feeling a hushed breath pause in your throat once you saw he was already looking at you.

a peek of a smile ghosted over his face. “it’s good. i, i appreciate that you did that. i hope you didn’t have to trade too much for it.” guilt resided in him at the thought of you having to give more than you had just for coffee beans. he felt he wasn’t worth all that effort.

you shook your head, laughing lightly at the memory of the trade. “no no don’t worry, just a pair of socks. they were these brown wool socks that were so soft, so i’d say it was a pretty fair trade.”

“i’ll be on the look out for a pair like that then.” he was already figuring out who he could trade with to get you another pair of socks. “no it’s okay you don’t have to it’s-“

“hey,” his voice felt rich, calling your attention back to him. your chest went tight. “yeah?” you whispered back.

“shut up. i’m gettin’ the socks.” there was a backbone of sternness in his lighthearted promise.

you sucked on your bottom lip through a grin before you spoke again.

“i have a confession.” you exhaled, feigning dramatics and he tilted his head towards you, watching you with worried eyes. “yeah?”

“i lied. i’ve never had coffee before.” you lowered your head with faux shame and he gasped, shaking his head with disapproval. he paused for a moment, then turned around.

you caught up with him, holding onto his arm, feeling hot at the taut feeling of his limb, and how he didn’t push you off. he just peered down at you, keeping you there with him. “jeez i didn’t think you’d take such offense to that,” you breathed out through a chuckle.

“inexcusable. you’re tryin it when we get home.” the twang in his accent was something so attractive, and it only had you feeling more and more willing to do whatever he wanted. you’d drink acid if he asked of it from you in that deep southern drawl.

you two walked back to his place, shedding a layer out of many, holding onto it as you trailed in behind him.

he glanced over at you, then your coat. “set it down somewhere, you can have a seat.” he pointed at the round table and you quietly thanked him, hanging your coat over the back of the chair before sliding it out and sitting in it.

“i remember you have a sweet tooth. damn near talked my head off about trading for a bag of hard candies a few months ago, so i reckon you’d like it sweet.” he mostly talked to himself when he said that, fondly remembering the way you rattled on about how you were craving for caramel drops.

“you remember that?” you were just about swooning, unable to hide it even when joel walked back over to you, two mugs in each hand of his. “how could i not? you never let me forget it.” he set the mug down in front of you, sipping at his as he leaned back into the chair in front of you.

you picked it up, hugging the warmth of it with your palm. you took a light sip, your eye shutting, a low quiet moan leaving your lips from around the mug once the taste landed on your tongue.

joel stirred in his seat at the sound, busying himself with drinking from his cup to avoid making any kind of facial expressions.

“joel,” you crooned and he felt weak. “you like it?” he asked, his lips still curled over the rim of his mug. “it’s so good, i understand why you like it so much.”

“well, i don’t make it as sweet as that, but yeah, coffees good. not a lot of people agree.” he shrugged and you set your mug down in front of you. “can i taste yours?”

he slid it to you and you lifted it, tasting it and almost immediately wanting to spit it out. you quickly gave it back to him, sipping the sweeter coffee to cleanse your offended palette.

“yeah, that tastes like shit, i don’t know how you drink that.” you smacked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, the burnt taste not quite leaving you just yet.

he rolled his eyes, taking a loud obnoxious slurp. “my tastebuds are just mature.”

“mature for what? shit? once you hit a certain age do just you grow accustomed to crappy tasting things?” you were dipping into a more casual way of speaking to joel, causing his gaze that rested on you to turn into a view of amusement.

“rich comin’ from the kid who still eats like she’s 5.” he rested his arm against the back of his chair, and you expired, feeling a bit defensive of being called a child.

“i’m not a kid.” you muttered and he chuckled. “alright.” he agreed in sentiments but not in actuality.

breaking the comfortable silence that filled the room you and joel shared, a loud bang rang from against the door. joel slid from out his chair, hurriedly pacing towards the door.

before he could even open it, you already knew it was one of fedra’s soldiers. things were starting to feel a little too lax, it was only a matter of time until they came knocking down doors again.

your throat went dry, stomach cinching with anxiety once he stepped inside, the same soldier that had you saving up your rations week after week to be able to afford the pistol from joel.

his eyes flickered between you and joel, scoffing to himself. “what’s this?” he asked you, ignoring joel who stood right in front of him.

“nothing.” you answered, intimidation and fear already prickling at your skin and racing down your spine.

joel stood in front of you, shielding you away from him, and slowly, the fear lifted itself itself away from you, but not fully. not while he’s still here.

“aren’t there usually two of you who do these searches?” joel questioned, watching as the solider jabbed at various things of joel’s with the tip of his rifle.

“partners out sick. so y’all get the pleasure of havin just me.” he flashed an ugly grin at you, bending to the side to see your uncomfortable face behind joel’s back.

he walked around, haphazardly lifting and tossing things about.

“oh?” he bent down, squatting by joel’s bed. “what’s this?” he waved around a baggy full of white powder. joel stiffened, his nostrils flaring in anger.

“that’s not mine and you know it.” and surprisingly it actually wasn’t.

joel had just sold the last of his pills to a sad sap unable to sleep without them, and that was a month ago. the asshole was planting drugs on him.

“this is not only grounds for confiscation but imprisonment. tough spot you’re in miller.” joel exhaled angrily from a quiet ragged breath.

“unless,” he came up to you, pushing past joel to cup your chin. “she wants to, convince me why i shouldn’t take you down for this contraband.” you flinched from his touch but it only made him hold on tighter.

joel snatched his wrist away, stepping back in front of you. “you don’t have to involve her. what do you want? rations, half of my next haul? what?” he gritted and the solider just laughed.

“you think i don’t have easy access to all that? i want something you can’t easily trade for.” he leaned to the side, waving at you.

joel pushed him backward, triggering the response of a rifle being shoved in his face. joel didn’t so much as waver, grabbing the neck of the firearm, pointing it away from him while his foot came and rammed down onto the front of his shin, successfully knocking him down with a loud wail of pain.

it happened so fast all you could do was sit and watch, frozen in place as joel lost himself on top of the solider, pounding and pounding and pounding his fists in relentlessly, not stopping despite the ache trickling over across his knuckles.

you heard a sick squelch followed by cracking noises and you knew that should’ve made you fear joel. it should’ve made you run out the door and never look back. but it did the opposite. you never wanted to stay more.

you watched with wide pupils as he rose up from the beaten and bloodied solider, breathing hard and loud, stumbling upward to a leant stance, staring at the lifeless solider on his wood floors.

he wiped his nose with the clean, unbloodied slate of his forearm, before dropping it back to his side to lean forward and spit over the body.

he turned back to you, scanning your face for any hurt, fear or disgust.

but there was none.

before you could say anything, he spoke aloud his thoughts. “i gotta get rid of the body.”

“do you need help?” you extended a hand willing to assist and joel shook his head a hard no. “you saw enough, you don’t need to see more. i’ll be back.”

you stood up, pressing a hand to his chest, looking at him with watery eyes. he wanted to wipe them away from you, but he couldn’t. not with the blood that was already starting to cake under his nails.

“joel i want to help.” you admitted, soft voice trembling and joel leaned forward, his face close to yours. “you should probably go sweetheart, you don’t need to get wrapped up further in this.” his words traveled along the coast of a gentle but solid whisper.

“i don’t want to go.” your voice barely carrying itself loud enough as a reply, eyes following joel’s actions of walking away from you to roll up the soldier in a thin fraying carpet.

“you should.” is all he said, walking out the door with a body dragging behind him.

—

you went against any logical thought process whatsoever and stayed. you decided you’d make yourself useful, feeling as though the events that continually replayed in your head felt like your fault.

you sat on your knees, scrubbing at the blood that had already set in the floors.

you scrubbed until it hurt, and you kept going despite the fact. you dunked the scrubber into the bucket of soapy water turned brown, squeezing the excess onto the floor before rubbing it in.

the door clicked open and your head whipped towards it, heart leaping in your chest once you saw joel stumble in.

“hi.” you breathed and he looked at you with surprise. he saw the work you busied yourself with, locking the door before making his way to you. “what’re you doin’?” he asked gently, yet again in shock at how unabashedly kind you were to him.

“didn’t want the blood just sitting here on your floors. ‘least i could do since it’s my fault that all happened.” you sniffled, feeling guilty at what had transpired. though the guilt was there, a sense of gratitude was even larger.

he did that, for you.

he bent down to catch your watery gaze. “no, no that was not your fault. just got a little carried away. ‘don’t want you thinkin’ that you had anything to do with my choices, okay?” he leaned to the side, catching your eyes that were avoiding his. “okay?” he repeated, waiting for you to say it back to him.

“okay.” you mouthed just below a whisper. he took the bucket and the scrubber, walking to the sink. you of course, trailed behind him.

he lifted his sleeves, turning on the faucet to rinse off the dried blood on his hands.

he picked at under his nails, scraping the blood off wherever he saw it. which was, every inch of his hands.

his body faced back to you, his now cleaned hands picking up yours, seeing specks of blood and dirt splattered on your hands from cleaning his floor.

he washed you clean, and all you could do was admire him. how gentle he was taking care of you. he rinsed your skin clear of blood, drying you up and letting your hands rest back to your sides.

“i’m sorry you had to see that.” he apologized, feeling ashamed of how little he was in control of his anger in that moment.

you shook your head, hands shakily resting on his chest. “no, i don’t want you to be sorry.” you murmured, eyes landing on his lips. you swallowed back any fears that held you back from showing your affections any longer.

you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his. with a pleasant surprise, he kissed back, no hesitation in his actions. his hold fell to your waist, squeezing, pulling you into him.

he took in your air, and you gave it to him, happily, willing to offer it in all its abundance. your hand rose to his cheek, palm resting over his beard. his thumb rested on your chin, rubbing it softly.

he forced himself to pull away, his hands selfishly unable to remove themselves from your waist. “sweetheart this isn’t a good idea. you’re too young, and i’m not a good man. i think i just showed you that.” he tried to warn you, hushed and gently, with honest intentions of keeping you away from something you’d regret being involved with.

but the only thing you’d regret is never being with him.

“i’m not, and i don’t care what you do joel, i want you, all of you, want you so bad,” you all but whimpered, trying to press yourself against him more.

he was a greedy man at heart, pulling you back up for a harder kiss. there was a hot hunger that was electric between you two, a burning ignition that pulled you two in, tying an in separable twine amidst your bodies. but neither of you ever had any intentions of undoing it anyways.

he held the side of your cheek, the other traveling from your lower back to your ass, squeezing it hard, using his grip to pull you in closer, grinding up against you right there.

you were so needy for him that it rattled your bones. a wet clicking noise elicited from your mouths, tongues brushing up together messily. your chin dribbling with saliva.

you moaned in his mouth, feeling the hand that was on your cheek move to hold you by the back of your head, his tilting to kiss you deeper.

he untangled your lips, keeping himself not even an inch away, just to share the breath between you two. your tongue flicked over his lips, biting down on the bottom one before lurching forward for him once more.

he groaned in your mouth, lifting his hand to come down and spank your ass. you whined, back arching and crotch brushing up against his.

you two stumbled towards his bed, your back falling into the mattress. he crawled on top of you, ridding himself of his boots and you of yours.

his knee rested on one side of your hip, the other coming between your thighs. your chest rose up into his, your back lifting off the sheets and hands coming up to paw at his chest.

without any reservations, you rubbed against his knee, struggling to kiss him back. “feel good little girl?” he sounded gruff, strained voice trying it’s best to not moan at the way your wet little cunt managed to create a wet spot on his knee.

“so good joel,” you gaped, kissing his neck desperately.

“shouldn’t be touchin’ you like this, sweet little thing like you gettin handled by someone like me,” he breathed through a series of heavy pants, his hands wandering all along your sides, your hips, your thighs.

“don’t want anyone else but you.” you whimpered truthfully, holding his wrist and guiding his hand to your chest, right above your heart. you let it drift to the left, shuddering when he squeezed your breast.

he kissed your pulse, teeth baring out against it. he rested his hand on your lower belly, rubbing the skin under your tank top. “can i touch you?” he whispered, his beard tickling the space just below your ear.

you nodded, running your hands all along his strong back. “please,” you bucked your hips upward, begging with not only your words but your body.

he exhaled out a quiet chuckle, fingers working to undo your jeans, tugging them down until they were forgotten on the floor.

he dipped down beneath your underwear, his cock throbbing in his boxers at how wet you were. so soaked it was pathetic. he hadn’t let his hand drift down to the sweet place between those thighs of yours til then, and yet you were as wet as if he had his tongue pressed up against you.

actually, that’s not a bad idea.

he circled around your clit, watching as you revealed in it, his fingers being thicker than yours, making the sensation all the more intense.

“joel,” you repeated his name, voice wavering in breathy gasps, his fingers rolling the sensitive button of yours. he slipped a finger inside you, eyes peering up and watching as your back rose just a little, hips pressuring downward and further onto his finger, taking him all in.

“so soft,” he murmured, lowering himself to press a kiss to your hip. he rolled his hips into the mattress, trying ease the pressure building up beneath his jeans.

he was too turned on, this young pretty girl he’s had his eye on for a year was sprawled in his bed, soft and soaked cunt all ready and pliable just for him and him alone.

he could die a happy man.

his lips encircled your clit, tongue drawing around it while he pressed into a familiar spongy spot within you.

you sucked in a sharp gasp, the sweet sound turning into a high pitched whine. “please,” you sobbed, hands flying down to keep his head in place.

he fucked you with his fingers, curling right up against the spot that was making you dizzy, his tongue and lips working perfectly on your little clit.

tears flowed down your face and on his pillow, your hand coming up to your mouth trying to lessen the volume of your cries.

“j-joel, please i,” unable to formulate any sentences, you just gave up, giving in to your moans.

the way you squeezed around his fingers, sucking him with greed and need, made him wonder how that’d feel around his cock when he’d get to finally shove it in you.

he growled at the thought, sucking hard around your clit. you whimpered, pushing down onto his tongue more.

“s’too much, i cant, i,” your head rolled around his pillow, his scent, his touch, his tongue suffocating you in the most heavenly way possible.

you squirmed in his hold, unable to escape his grip, unable to escape the way his tongue pressed flat and hard up on your clit. his beard brushed up against your thighs, pulling a giggly moan from you.

“perfect little pussy,” he grunted, kissing your clit before dragging his tongue slowly, up and down languidly.

he rested his forearm over your lower tummy, pressing hard and feeling the corner of his lips perk at the way you gasped, shuddering loudly and trembling in his mouth at the action.

“joel, i think i’m—ooh,” you spoke tearfully, poor little throat already getting hoarse from crying out his name.

“feels good huh baby,” that little twang in his deep voice curled off his words just right. all you could do was whimper a shaky sogood joel s’good.

his finger pressed up against that spot inside you, his tongue on your clit being the sweetest cherry on top of the tooth rotting sundae.

you were cumming, hiccuping his name unashamedly. your plush thighs coming around to cage him in, to which he paid no mind to, if anything it excited him, his rough hands gripping your ass and pulling you deeper into his mouth.

the wind up deep inside you finally released, flickering flashes of burning hot lights spread across your limbs, slowly fizzling out as you went limp in his bed.

he didn’t let up however, his tongue grown addicted to the way your perfect clit felt on the wet muscle.

you whimpered, struggling to push him away from your cunt. it was just too good and he hadn’t had enough yet.

“joel n-no more s’too much,” you pleaded weakly, and he took slight pity, pressing one last kiss before rising back up to you.

he pressed his fingers to your lips, groaning quietly with approval at the way you took them in with no verbal orders needed.

you were so good for him, his sweet little girl.

he pulled them out, resting on your plump bottom lip before moving it out the way to kiss you. you moaned deeply into his mouth, bringing your arms around him, hands traveling up to his hair.

his salt and peppered hair felt soft, weaved through your gentle fingers. you lightly tugged on it, feeling mischief in your veins at the ministration. he growled, biting down on your lip and laughing as you yelped.

he held your jaw, pressing hard kisses all along your face, speaking stilly, his inflection so deep, so masculine, so old and wise, had you hypnotized, his words that were reserved for your ears only, were something you’d cradle to yourself forever.

“told myself i wouldn’t crack, i wouldn’t have you like this, you’re too young, you don’t know what you want, but fuck,” he dragged his fingers up your folds, chuckling to himself at the way you whimpered, curling into his touch immediately.

“now that i got you, ‘fraid i can’t let you go sweetheart. i’m a selfish man at heart.” he admitted, kissing your jaw. you just about exploded in that moment. you had no idea he felt the same for you as you did him, and it was the most powerful, enlightening feeling you’ve ever felt.

“i’m selfish too,” you whispered back, puckering your lips to kiss him. “didn’t let anyone else touch me but you. just wanted you,” you looked up at him from under your eyelashes, unaware to how that little admission made the precum collecting at his tip leak out even more.

his grasp on your hip tightened, squeezing it as he buried his face in your neck. “fuck baby, gonna give this old man a heart attack sayin’ things like that.”

your shaky hands went for his belt, tugging on it with need. “want you joel, please?” you begged, lips pressed to his ear. he didn’t need to be begged any more, he undid his belt with one hand, pulling it off his waist, letting it join the pile of your discarded jeans and boots.

before he could take himself out, your hands found themselves under his flannel, desperate and anxious to see what he’s been concealing away from you. “off, please,” and he wanted to say no, feeling not as proud in his physique as he once was about 20 years ago.

“nothin special to see baby,” he countered and you shook your head. “it’s you. it’s special to me.” you suspired airily, already feeling your tummy get tight at the thought of him hovering above you, shirtless.

he took in a deep breath, letting you unbutton his flannel.

you undid each button, trying your best to not rip them clean off despite your rushing efforts. you slid it off his body, exhaling in awe at the sight in front of you.

you sucked on your bottom lip, hands traveling across his broad shoulders, fingers tracing his collarbones, dragging around the scarred areas from past wounds, admiring the few freckles on his chest that trail up to his shoulders.

he watched you, never having felt so admired before. “enjoyin’ yourself baby?” he teased, his thumb rubbing over your chin.

“mhm,” you nodded, not caring how it looked to be gawking at him.

you could feel the muscle from the layer of life and age over his stomach, your eyes then falling to the bulge of his biceps, instantly growing obsessed, squeezing at the muscles.

“you’re so beautiful joel.” you spoke with such true sincerity and he tittered quietly, shaking his head. “thank you baby,”

your wandering hands finally fell to his jeans, undoing the button and zipper, eager to see what else he’d been keeping away from you.

he let you, more than ready to feel your touch in the place he craved the most. he was tired of having to fuck his calloused fist, trying hard to pretend it was your cute hand touching him.

you pulled him out, feeling your jaw go slack at the length of it all. “jesus joel,” you swallowed hard, steadily jerking him off, feeling slightly unsure if you’re doing it right. you were telling the truth, when you said you’d never let anyone touch you, too hopelessly in love with joel to even imagine allowing anyone to see you in the way he’s got you.

he grunted, unintentionally bucking his hips into the tunnel of your hand. he was thick, heavy in your clutch, veins running along the side of it, his tip round and fat, almost red with droplets of precum leaking out.

“gonna show you what those little boys could never give you,” he promised, and you believed him, gazing at the way he reluctantly pulled away from your hold, knowing if he let you stroke him any longer he’d cum all over your hand.

he circled your clit with the head of his cock, shuddering a semblance of a breathy moan at the sensation. “gonna be a bit of a stretch baby, tell me if it’s too much okay? i’ll try to go slow.” he kissed his promises of gentleness into your temple.

he inched in, hands around either side of your head, foreheads pushed together while your mouth fell open, sucking in all the air in the room. the stretch was very unfamiliar, but not unwelcomed.

you held onto his shoulders for support, grasping onto them tightly, pretty plump trembling lips crying out moans that would replay in joel’s head on lonely nights. you felt fuller than you ever have before joel was even fully inside you.

he was nudging up against spots in you that you had no idea could feel so good, and if he angled his hips any higher, the fat head of his cock would be kissing your cervix.

“can barely fit myself in ya’ baby,” he groaned, head falling from your forehead to bury itself in your neck, kissing your hot skin to try to calm him down before he lost control and rammed himself inside you.

your calves rested on his hips, whimpering while trying to lift yourself up in an attempt to get him to push himself further in.

“more joel, please?” your pleas were accompanied by sponged kisses just below his ear. “gonna take it all for me baby?” he questioned you, inching in just that much deeper, and you shut your eyes, nails already beginning to crescent themselves in his back. “mhm, gonna take it all,” you swore, more than eager to have him fully within you, as close as could be.

he jutted his hips in, knocking the wind out of you. you bit down on his shoulder, whining a drool filled mess with the way he started to fuck you, rough hardened hands molding softly around the curves of your waist.

he was bathing in the way your little cunt took him in, squeezing around him so good just like he knew you would. he took his time, rocking into you in and out, holding your shaking body close to him.

you could feel every ridge and vein in you, hooked onto the way he filled you up, stretching you beyond belief, making you bounce upward with every movement.

his hands slid down over the smooth skin of your thighs, widening them further open before pushing them up, growing impatient, achingly hungry to be deeper in you. you struggled for air at his fast actions, eyes immediately rolling back at the way he began to fuck into you.

“can’t help myself, m’sorry baby, pussy’s too good, shit,” a gruff sigh of relief leaving his mouth at the way you took him in. you didn’t care, you were thrilled to take whatever he gave you, and however hard he saw fit.

“feels s’good, feel so full,” you cried, translucent tears free falling, the aggressive pistons of his hips causing your swollen clit to ache, begging to be touched.

“feel me right here huh baby?” he rubbed over the bulge in your tummy and you squealed, wriggling away from the overwhelming stimulation. “ha,” you strung out, arching up into him.

“yeah, you do,” he taunted breathlessly, loving how you were a wreck beneath him. “in so deep joel,” you mumbled against his shoulder and he kissed your hair, nodding knowingly. “i know babygirl but you’re takin me so well,” he praised, feeling so proud of his sweet girl taking his cock like a pro.

“never gonna let anyone see you like this?” he pressed deep there, corners of his lips curling when you weep, squeezing at his biceps. “never gonna let anyone have you like this?” you shook your head, sobbing a string of no joel no, never, just you.

“perfect, tight fuckin’ cunt is all for me, aint sharin’ with no one,” he held you by the back of your thighs even further, stressing how serious he was, set on fucking himself into your soaked hole until there was a permanent shape of him within you. a shape no man could ever fit into.

sobs of uncontrollable pleasure were the only thing you could feel in your veins, pumping your blood full of dopamine. his balls tightened, hitting the fullness of your ass, and he let himself grow sporadic, let himself take you. his fingers found your desperate clit, chuckling to himself when you croon tearfully, thanking him pathetically for touching you.

“can i cum, please?” your requests only made him twitch inside you, his sweet girl was so polite. “go ahead baby, let it out,” he leaned down to kiss you, swallowing up your moans and cries.

your body jerked under him, the tight vice of your cunt gripping onto him while he rubbed over your clit, pulling out the second wave of an orgasm from you.

you broke apart from his lips, still just a breadth of a gasp away from them, brushing up against the ghost of a kiss as you pressed your forehead to his, sobbing his name while your body trembled from how hard you were cumming.

“shit,” he slammed a hand against the wall above your head, shoving himself impossibly further in you, your legs shaking on either side of him. “good fuckin’ girl, squeezing me so goddamn good,” he fucked you through your orgasm, kneading over your breasts, groping at them and pinching at your pebbling nipples.

you fell limp, letting yourself drown in the unraveling lengths of your climax.

“gonna cum baby, where d’you want it?” he asked, feeling his lower stomach start to tighten up. “inside, wanna feel all of you,” you whined, kissing all along his shoulder and collarbones, messy and ravenous.

his face fell to the crook of your neck, biting down on your soft flesh when he came, impaling you once, twice, ending it with one last hard thrust as he came in you, pumping you full of his cum.

he didn't feel himself soften inside you, but with each of the passing minutes he decided he’d better pull out then or else he’d never leave. you winced from the removal, arms coming around to hold him with a clinginess.

he collapsed on top of you, and you sighed contently, the full weight of him resting on you could’ve honestly sent you into the deepest nap you’d ever have.

you felt his cock, still hardened on your thigh. with sleepy eyes you looked up at him, lips on his stubbly jaw when you spoke. "you're still hard," you murmured. his fingers drew up and down your spine, and you shivered, arching yourself into him.

"that's okay, it'll go down soon." his throat got tight when he felt you wrap your hand around him once more. "we don't...have to ignore it." you trailed off, bitten lips pressing delicate kisses laced with ulterior motives into his tanned skin.

you wanted joel to use you as many times as he wanted to, a new compulsion flowing rampantly in your veins. now that you had finally gotten a taste of joel, you wanted to gorge yourself on him.

"you sure you can take it?" he asked through a hushed breath of arousal. you nodded, kissing at his lips with need.

he didn't need to be told twice, he repositioned you, letting you fall back onto his pillow with him hovering above you. he rolled you onto your stomach, holding you by your hip to lift you just enough for him to shove his flannel right against your cunt.

his rough palms encased your ass, groping at the thick flesh. he dipped down, spreading your ass and watching as his cum poured out of you. he groaned quietly to himself. you whimpered, turning to look over your shoulder as joel pushed his fingers inside, shoving his cum back into you. your chin dropped, face falling back into his pillow when he pumped his fingers inside you, chuckling darkly to himself at the way your ass squirmed against him.

every little swivel your hips made was met with friction from his flannel on your clit. the hem of it just so happened to be pressed right there. he slapped his cock over on your ass, exhaling loudly at the way it jiggled from his actions.

he aligned himself once more with your little hole, pushing himself in with ease due to the slick left from a mixture of his cum and yours. you whined, hands flying backward, desperate for any solace from his hands in yours. he held your wrists at the small of your back with one hand, the other supporting his weight to lean forward when he pushed himself all the way inside you. you cried out, his name falling out of your mouth like a mantra, your legs trembling beneath him.

he was in you so much deeper this way, stretching you out more than you thought he already could. his hips snapped up against your ass, fully within you and hitting every single tingly spot inside you along the way.

you were already out of breath, your lungs and brain vacant of anything except for him, for joel. "feel you in my tummy," you hiccuped, tilting your head to look at him through teary eyes. he breathed out a lazy, cocky laugh, moving forward to kiss your forehead, unintentionally shoving his cock in even deeper, feeling a sense of pride at the way you gasped and whimpered at the deep intrusion.

"i know huh baby?" he chuckled in your ear, and you shivered, feeling your face grow warm from how flustered he made you feel. he was so dirty, any filters he once had were gone, the tight grip your cunt had on his cock made him downright ruthless.

he pressed his hands at your lower back, letting yours fall free to cling onto his sheets. he held you down that way, fucking into you with a newfound source of energy, his grey hairs falling over his forehead, sweat glistening over the ripples of muscles along his biceps and abdomen, his whole being going into pounding himself into you.

he wanted you to be so full of him that everyone would know it just by looking at you. the possessiveness he tried to suppress for so long had come out, and he wasn't sure if he could go back to hiding it again. but that wasn't on his mind, not when you were clenching around him, sobbing his name loud enough for everyone outside to hear.

his grunting fell to your ears, it was near pornographic, including the way you bounced with each and every thrust of his, just watching it made his chest get tight.

he needed you closer.

he pulled you back up from under your arms, keeping you flush against his chest while he continued fucking you. you were growing limp, body worn out from the rigor he put you through. but he held onto you, keeping you in his arms. his arm went under your tits, a sneaky hand coming up and groping at one, pinching at the nipple.

he buried his face in your neck, filling your ear with the low growl of his groans. "such a good girl, letting me fuck you like this, but i think you like it, and you know what else?," he drew in a heavy breath, "i think you like being fucked like a little ragdoll," you couldn't answer, he was right, but you could hardly focus on any words, his cock rendering you a teary eyed moaning mess.

"can't even respond when spoken to," he slowed the roll of his hips, hitting you in deep and slow, letting you hear him instead of the loud wet rhythm of your cunt being fucked into. "that's okay, i'll still take care of you," he chuckled, returning back to his rough pace.

"so good, make me feel so good joel," you managed to finally cry out in a series of strewn moans. his fingers trailed themselves down to your clit, rubbing in tight little circles. " i know baby, cum for me, show me how good i make you feel."

you wriggled around in his hold, your third orgasm of the night was thick in heft, a heavy wave of intense stimulation clearing your vision and leaving a white glittering hue instead. you felt joel everywhere, from the way he was buried in your cunt, to the way his hips were clasped over the curve of your ass, fitting into you like a puzzle piece.

the fervent circles being drawn over your clit was the thing that pushed you over, your head falling backward onto his shoulder, his turn to be serenaded by a string of your pretty moans. "good babygirl, did so good for me." he cooed in your ear, pressing a kiss behind it. "thank you," you meekly replied in a breathless voice.

you were the weakest you've ever felt, your poor spent body still being held upright as joel chased down his own orgasm. "gonna let me cum in you again baby? want more of it?" he panted in your ears. "please, want it joel, please,"

he gripped onto your hips, feeling his own stutter, before he pushed in deeply, stilling inside as he came in thick ropes. he finally softened, slowly pulling out of you. you winced again at the loss, feeling suddenly cold and empty. you collapsed on his bed, reaching out for him.

he laid beside you, pulling your leg up and over his waist, running a hand up the expanse of your thigh. your eyes fell shut tiredly, enjoying the comfortable sound of the two of you trying to catch your breaths.

a part of you was worried he was going to break the silence, afraid he'd call the whole thing a mistake, and lecture you on how he isn't the type of man who does relationships. you knew all of that, you just hoped he wouldn't say it and just let you soak in the moment.

almost nervously, his hand came to dance across your cheekbone softly, wanting to memorize the way your skin felt to his. "do you regret that?" he murmured and you opened your eyes, shocked at the question.

you leaned into his hand, curling your own over his. "no, never joel, why would you ask that?"

he sighed, scooting closer to you. "I'm not a good man, sweetheart, i'm giving you a chance to leave." he spoke above an octave of silence. you frowned, shaking your head. "i don't care about anything that you've done in the past or what you'll do in the future. i just...want to be here, with you, in any way you'll let me." you admitted, wishing you could say the one thing you've been harboring for a year, but you knew you needed to keep that to yourself just a little longer.

"if i had a bigger conscious i wouldn't let you," his hands pulled you into the hold of his arm that came over your waist. "lucky for me then that you're not the good man you claim to be." you whispered, the scent of coffee on your breath enveloping his senses, and in that moment, he had a realization.

he thought about how nice, how domestic it would be to wake up and share a cup of coffee with you every morning, before you had to face the day, at least you could share a moment of peace together.

"yeah," a trace of a smile grew over his lips. "you're right. i'm not." he rolled on top of you, cupping your cheeks in his large palms. "you're makin' an unwise choice little girl," a quiet rumble rested on your lips.

your arms came around his shoulders and you sighed a half laugh. "i know. i don't care."

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #the last of us hbo #the last of us smut

2K notes · View notes

grandlinedreams · 11 months

Note

hi i literally love all of ur posts u nail all of the characters its crazy.

one of my favorite tropes is hidding an injury and getting the classic “who did this to you.”

if ur still taking requests and are in an angsty mood would u plzzz write this with zoro?

Hhjg I try, thank-you!! But also mood it's just so GOOD and I hope that I can do this justice for you!!

[Heads up!: mentions of canon typical violence, blood/mention of an infected wound, angst]

Staring down at the gash in your side, you bite back a hiss as you prod at it, the weep of milky fluid from it. The split skin is puffy and an angry red, heat eminating from it ㅡ it doesn't take a genius to know that it doesn't look good.

Normally you'd have the little handful of supplies from Chopper, tucked away in your backpack ㅡ but it's gone, along with everything else beyond your weapon.

At least you're not wandering around by yourself, though. As if on cue, there's the sound of footsteps behind you, and you drop your shirt back over the poorly bandaged wound.

"What are you doing over here?"

"Just fine," you answer as you turn towards Zoro. "I wanted to see if we could reach a clearing and get a good read on where we are."

"Fair enough." Zoro studies you for a minute, and you worry that he's going to know about the wound on your side ㅡ the one you'd casually "forgotten" to mention to him. "So which way should we be heading?"

"West," you answer, glancing up at the sky. The sun has begun its slow arc of descent, and you sigh. "We need to hurry, or we'll end up needing to camp for the night."

"Right." You turn to watch Zoro go, feeling the irritated twitch of a muscle in your jaw.

"Zoro. That's east."

ㅡ

By the time the sun has set, it's clear that something is wrong.

There's a fine layer of cold sweat on your face that you scrub at, trying to ignore the heaviness of your limbs and throbbing ache of your side. "We should stop for the night," you hear yourself say, "it's useless to try and navigate after dark."

Zoro grunts his agreement and turns to look at you, brow furrowing. "Are you sure you're alright?"

You want to answer him, you really do. But your ears are ringing, mouth full of cotton when you try to answer. Dark spots dance around the edges of your vision, and you're distantly aware of Zoro's noise of alarm when your legs finally give out.

"'m fine," you finally manage before the dark spots expand, sinking you down into the silent black of unconsciousness.

ㅡ

You wake to the awkward bulk of a backpack under your head and the smell of woodsmoke. Sitting up, you blink when a damp cloth drops from your forehead into your lap.

"Finally awake?" Sitting nearby, Zoro prods at the fire with a long stick before he turns towards you. "You have a fever."

Your hand slides to your side, feeling the stiff press of bandages underneath, the answering throb of the gash beneath.

"Took care of that too." Zoro's gaze is sharp. "I'm not Chopper, but it'll do for now. Mind explaining who did that and why you didn't bother telling me?"

It's clear he's far from amused, and you look away, feeling guilty. "Happened when we all got separated," you say, "and I didn't think it was going to be that much of an issue."

Zoro wants to scold you, but he knows he'd be a hypocrite if he did given the amount of times he's blatantly ignored his injuries. Instead he sighs, watching the logs crackle for a moment. "Hope you killed the guy who did it."

"Of course I did," you answer with a hint of pride, and Zoro smirks.

"Good."

ㅡ

"I think this is a little excessive, Zoro."

"You still have a fever," Zoro says as he adjusts his grip on your legs, "and we won't get anywhere if you collapse on me again." He feels you tense, and he frowns. "How are you feeling, anyways? And don't lie."

"A little better." You rest your forehead against his shoulder, and though he won't admit it out loud, the fact he can feel warmth radiating from your skin worries him. "I'm sorry about this."

"Still should have told me," he says, though his tone is softer, his grip tightening on your legs. "Idiot. We're crewmates, aren't we? We're supposed to trust each other."

"I do trust you."

"Then act like it." He stares ahead, footsteps steady. "Don't go getting hurt and then hiding anymore, you hear me?"

"I hear you." You pause. "Zoro?" He grunts in answer, and you exhale softly. "Thank-you."

Zoro tells himself that his heart doesn't pick up a little bit at how soft your voice is, the cling of your body against his. And that he definitely isn't blushing, just a little. "Yeah, yeah. Can't have you die on me and leave me to deal with that stupid cook all on my own."

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #ㅡanswered.#anonymous

440 notes · View notes

kissitbttr · 10 months

Note

I come here with dad’s best friend Miguel motivation

~he would touch you innocently in front of your father, like “you have smh in your hair let me get it out”

~but he would grope you any chance he got, which means every time your father wasn’t looking

~ if he got a call from your father to look after you while he was gone on a business trip, you two would fuck at every surface in da house

~oh and if his babies spilled out of you, nah he’s pushing in back

~he’d call you Spanish nicknames like ma, or mami when he’s turned on like an oven

~he adores that you call him Miggy, Papi when doing the deed

~he spoils the fuck outta you knowing that you’re the one

~by the time your father finds out that you’re dating and that Miguel corrupted his sweet gir, he would be mad angry

But he would be glad that it’s Mig and not some bitchass college frat boy, so he would let it slide

~by the time your sobbing father walks you down the aisle and you establish really high paying job at Alchemax and a running business with Miguel by your side, Miguel is locked in on getting you swollen w babies

-but bro would SOB sob while laying on your tummy after u told him that you’re growing child, he’d be like ‘he had gone too soft´

- yall would celebrate Christmas together, with you heavily pregnant so you would tap out by falling asleep

- the remaining duo would be in awe

Want me to continue?

oh my god anon HSHSJSJJSBSBS IM SPIRALLINGGGG

during dating stage he would most definitely spoil u with lots of good shit. designer shoes, handbags, lingeries. he even called someone from one of his business partner who works with famous line like Adam Selman, Alaïa, or Marc Jacobs to create your own dress. Whether it’d be made out of Swarovski Crystal or Mulberry Silk, because his smart and pretty baby deserves all the good things!!

“i told you not to buy me anything, papi! go and return them!” you scold, pointing at the three most expensive yet gorgeous dresses you have seen being displayed. one you don’t even imagine you could wear!

he shrugs in response, casually sipping his coffee. “my girl just got all A’s on her exams and three recommendation letters. you think i wouldn’t get you something, baby?”

“but this..” you eye at the specific floor-length sheer dress, made out of 200,000 Swarovski crystals. it is one of the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, you’re almost too afraid to look at it. “this must have cost a lot…”

again, he acts like it’s nothing. because it is nothing. he’s fucking miguel o’hara. he’s got all the money in the world to get you another five of these. you don’t even need to ask.

miguel walk towards behind you. a smile on his lips when he sees you in awe before wrapping his arms your waist. planting a quick kiss on your cheek. “like i said… you deserve it”

UGH this is so… dinner.. you fed me good thank u so much<333

#anon #answered #could u imagine being bathe in crystals… diamonds FFFFUUUCKK #i love u for this #miguel o’hara thoughts #miguel o’hara

233 notes · View notes

jobean12-blog · 1 year

Text

Temptations

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader

Word Count: 1,854

Summary: Javi's always busy with work and despite his warnings you can't stay away...you miss him too much.

Author's Note: This is for my Kinktober and one of my favorite kinks- choking...the focus is mostly on the absolute sexiness of this man and his hands in general because clearly I can't stop myself! This is also my first time writing for Javi and I want to thank my sweet love @flordeamatista ❤️❤️for checking it over and making sure I stayed true to the character. Thank you all so much for reading, much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: sassy and flirty reader, Javi is a bit d-om-ish and pos-sess-iv-e, o-ra-l, f-in-g-er-in-g, ma-s-tu-r-ba-tio-n, softness too, a c-u-rs-e or three, light c-ho-k-in-g, c-o-c-k w-ar-m-in-g

Kinktober Masterlist

Joel Miller Masterlist (Pedro)

“Javi.”

He looks up from his drink, continuing to twirl the small glass between his fingers.

“Someone here to see you,” Steve says, giving nothing away.

“Who?” Javi asks, his eyes narrowing.

Steve just raises his eyebrows and cocks his head before walking off, leaving Javi’s office door open.

Javi mutters a curse under his breath before he lifts the drink to his lips and finishes it in one quick sip. He almost chokes on it a second later when you push the door open and saunter in.

“Surprised to see me?” you ask demurely as you slowly shut the door and lock it.

“Angel,” he growls out in warning. “What are you doing here?”

You feign a pout and toy with the tie of your jacket. “Aren’t you happy?”

He abruptly stands from his desk, his chair flying backward and banging into the wall.

You barely have time to react before he’s standing over you, one long finger pointed in your face and his eyes dark.

“I thought I told you not to come here.”

You stand your ground, raising your chin ever so slightly and meeting his gaze. “I haven’t seen you all week.”

You meant it to come out more powerfully, a strong statement, but instead it’s whiny and petulant.

“It’s not safe,” Javi says as he steps closer. “You know what I’m dealing with.”

You reach up to grab the ends of his loose tie, teasingly pulling on the fabric to bring him even closer.

“I made sure no one saw me,” you explain. “Even parked the car far away.”

He stares at you, unmoving, and you close the distance between you, pressing your body to his.

“What do you want?” he asks, placing his hands on his hips even as they twitch to touch you.

“You.”

“Angel.”

You hold his stare in challenge but he doesn’t relent and steps back to put some distance between you.

“Fine,” you huff. “I’ll leave.”

You turn on your heel and start for the door but before you grab the doorknob he has you in his arms, pressed back to the door with his knee between your legs.

A smile starts to curl your lips and he takes your chin between his fingers.

“You never listen, do you.”

It’s not a question, just a simple statement of the truth and your smile grows.

“And you work too hard,” you state, batting your lashes.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk as he dips his head, brushing his nose along your throat.

“Since you’re here…” he murmurs.

He drags himself away, leaving you panting against the door.

“Take your coat off. Get comfortable.”

With that he turns toward his desk and falls back into the chair.

You stay plastered to the door, carefully sliding the ties of your coat between your fingers.

“Javi,” you sing. “I didn’t come here to watch you work.”

He looks up just as you pull the ties free, the sides of the coat falling open to reveal your mostly bare skin.

“Fuck,” he growls, letting his eyes sweep over you. “You’ve been walking around the office like that this whole time?”

You wave a dismissive hand and shrug the jacket from your shoulders, casually throwing it over the file cabinet.

“Fuck,” he repeats as he gets an unobstructed view of your lingerie set.

“You said that already,” you tease, not moving from the door.

With a wide spread of his legs he leans back in the chair and crooks his finger at you.

Each step you take is slow and calculated, the sway of your hips enticing in every way. You can already see the tightness in his pants and when you reach him and sit on the edge of the desk, you let your eyes drop between his legs.

The pen in his hand creaks under the pressure of his grip as you wait, dragging your gaze up his chest to meet his eyes.

He leans forward, invading your space and reaches up to trace his fingers over the fluttering pulse in your neck. You tilt your head, granting him better access and he smooths his fingers lower, tracing your collarbone.

Goosebumps rise against his touch and you let out a soft sigh.

His hands slide lower, along the swell of your breasts, then he grabs your legs, forcing them to spread open, knees laid back against the edge of his desk.

“Don’t you dare fucking move,” he says as he stands, slowly sliding his loose tie from his neck.

Your breath hitches but you remain still.

With careful movements he takes each of your wrists in his hand and pulls your arms behind your back, settling your hands just above your ass. You feel him wrap his tie around your wrists and secure it tightly.

When he meets your eyes again he raises a questioning brow. You know he’s checking to make sure you’re comfortable but you can’t resist sassing him anyway.

“Sure you don’t want to use your cuffs?”

He sits back onto the chair with a muttered curse then leans in, inhaling against the skin of your thigh before nuzzling his nose along the silk between your legs.

“This pretty pussy of yours is all I want…to eat, to fuck, to own.”

You moan out his name and your hips roll.

“And when I tell you to do something…,” he whispers, knowing you’re desperate for his mouth, “I expect you to listen.”

He runs his thumb over the flimsy fabric, relishing in the slickness as your panties grow wetter.

“Javi,” you whine. “Stop teasing.”

“You think I should give you what you want?” he asks, his soft kisses along your inner thighs making them shake.

“You just said my pussy is all you want…”

Your cheekiness makes his eyes flash with intense heat and he rips your panties down your legs, leaving them hanging off one heeled foot. He kisses his way back up your leg, nibbling your thigh and drawing a groan of impatience from your throat.

His hot breath blows over your pussy and you rock your hips in a desperate attempt for more.

He teases you still, his feather light kisses just out of reach.

“Please,” you cry out, even as your expression is one of pained frustration.

“Say it again,” he murmurs.

“Please Javi,” you moan.

His tongue licks a long line through your folds and he immediately closes his lips around your clit, fluttering his tongue over and over.

“Yes Javi, just like that,” you say with a breathy exhale.

He savors all he can before sliding two fingers inside you and watching as you take them, the evidence of how much you love it glistening on his skin.

“So perfect Angel.”

You beg for more and he slides his free hand up to cup the base of your neck, putting enough pressure to let you know you’re his in every way. Your eyes squeeze shut and you choke out his name.

As his tongue works over your clit and he applies just the right amount of pressure to your throat, your walls start to swell and clench around his fingers.

He pulls away and presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing gently until you open your eyes to look at him.

“Tell me Angel. Who do you belong to? Tell me as you come all over my fingers.”

You whisper, your voice nearly raw from your pleading cries. “You…I belong to you Javi.”

He presses his lips to your clit once more and your back arches hard, your breath catching as shudders take over your muscles and your pussy tightens around his fingers.

With softening strokes and lazy kisses he draws out your pleasure and tenderly squeezes your throat.

“Then you better not forget it.”

Stay just like that,” he commands as he withdraws his fingers and stands.

He starts to unbuckle his belt, the leather hanging open as he begins to work on his pants. When his cock is free he swipes his fingers through your soaked pussy, gathering your orgasm and rubbing the sticky slickness along his length.

His free hand finds your throat again and he holds you in place, forced to watch and nothing more.

You struggle against the binds on your wrists, needing to be free as your eyes track his every move.

“Javi. Please. Let me touch you.”

His large hand moves up and down his cock in smooth strokes, pumping hard and fast, the tip bumping your clit and edging you toward overstimulation. Every time you flinch from the touch his smirk grows and his grip on your neck tightens.

“No touching. Not yet,” he rasps.

His thighs shake, tight with impending release. “I’m going to mark you Angel.”

“That’s so hot,” you whimper. “Come on me Javi.”

Your teeth are digging so hard into your bottom lip it’s painful and with three more strokes he grunts, his cum splashing across your pussy and lower stomach.

Spent, he releases your neck as he folds over you, kissing your lips and freeing your wrists. He looks between your bodies, taking in the sight of you covered in his release.

“Fuck Angel, you look perfect.”

Keeping your eyes on him, you dip your finger into the puddle then lift it to your lips, sliding it into your mouth and moaning at the flavor. His cock spasms at the sight before he meets your gaze, his expression sated but still full of burning heat.

Taking some tissues he quickly cleans you up before he sits back in his chair and pats his thigh. You slide off the desk into his arms.

“Aren’t you happy I came to visit?” you whisper into his neck.

He gives you a satisfied hum and wraps you up, gently running his fingers along your throat before his lips find yours again. His kiss is delicate and slow and your hands brush along his chest until you find the open collar of his shirt, dipping your fingers inside to touch his warm skin.

Your hands move higher, over his shoulders to caress his neck and face and you brush the hair from his sweaty forehead before scraping your fingers over his scalp. He murmurs your name, kissing you harder when you shift in his lap and straddle his waist.

“Angel,” he growls as he starts to harden beneath you. “Are you planning on distracting me from work for the rest of the day?”

You smile against his mouth with a roll of your hips, placing soft kisses along his jaw and down his neck, teasing any inch of his skin you can find.

And without an answer you reach between your bodies and take him in your hand, guiding him slowly inside you.

“FUCK,” he hisses, pulsing and throbbing and stretching you out so good.

His fingers dig into your skin before his hands wander over your body, caressing every curve.

“I won’t stop you from working Javi,” you hum as you get comfortable and lay your head along his shoulder, kissing just below his ear. “Go right ahead.”

@hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @littleseasiren @lorilane33 @pedritosdarling

#javier peña #javier pena x reader #Javier peña x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x y/n #javier pena #javier pena narcos #javier pena imagine #javier pena x female reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #narcos

362 notes · View notes