#ALSO lighting cigarettes for each other

[urthemiiel]

let my detective smoke cigarettes with mason challenge

[ipostmysimpingstuffanonymously]

Part 2. This time its the Tokyo Five (As I named them) Headcanons in the reblog tags appreciated

[oicuperp]

im afraid the adam-strahm interactions in my silly little au mostly involves them smoking together on the roof at night while looking at the moon

[bangobeep]

enemies with benefits (guys who will kiss and be incredibly conflicted about it for a month)

[trobeds]

community enjoyers of tumblr reblog w ur (current) top 3 episodes & why u love them

[bishonenspit]

lights cigarette...... it's a gay spy music kinda night boys

[milkweedman]

ah, the ever-more-frequent Urge To Explode My Brain from unending migraines. a migraine that just lasts the day already sucks so bad. whole day is gone in a blur of pain and misery, right ? a migraine that lasts multiple days is sort of like if hell was real and you were in it. time has no meaning, only pain, etc.

months of migraines... with no break or end or effective treatment and also you still have to work and behave like a normal person because you cannot lie in bed for months not paying rent. well id describe it you but ive fucking lost the plot. its gone on so long and its so bad that when the migraine ISN'T at its peaking on the pain scale and making me feel like if i was hit by a truck that would be an improvement, i start to feel like my head is a vestigial organ that has been removed. cant access sensation in my head and it feels literally disconnected from my body. meanwhile the pain is still there (along with the brain fog, vertigo, nausea, etc) but it feels like its happening to somebody else.

[sukunasweetheart]

Sukuna, a middle aged man jaded by the harsh realities of his life. He steps outside for a smoke nearby a convenience store, completely bored out of his mind.

A lady is handing out flyers nearby, although nobody is bothering to look her way, including sukuna himself.

You approach the man who's getting irritated by the lighter that refuses to work in his hand.

"Hello there, sir. Would you be interested in taking up classes for arts and craft?" You offer the cute flyer up.

Sukuna scoffs. Is she serious?

"No thanks."

"Are you sure? You look like you could use a bit more colour in your life."

He's too exhausted at this point to get angry at a random woman on the street.

"...You're not too far off, i suppose," sukuna mutters, still trying to get the spark to stay on his lighter. "Even so, I'm not interested in the likes of arts and craft. Do i look like a child to you?"

You withdraw your offer of your flyer, and inspect him for a moment.

"Arts and craft can be enjoyed by anyone, regardless of age. But moving past that... you seem a bit down. If you'd like to confide in a stranger for a night, I'm happy to listen."

What a strange, persistent woman. Sukuna gives up on his lighter, and takes out the unlit cigarette in his mouth to think back for a moment. One thing does come to mind.

"I'm not feeling down. But i remembered something, now that i think about it..." he confesses, feeling weirdly compelled to tell you about it.

"Today is supposed to be my birthday."

Birthdays have never been special to him. Nobody celebrated his birth as a child, and in turn, he's never paid attention to the birthdays of others.

"Oh, happy birthday. Are you doing anything special for yourself today?"

"No. I've never cared for birthdays. And I'm getting too old for that anyway."

"Well, that won't do... Hold on for a second."

Puzzled, sukuna looks back at you but you've already gone inside the convenience store. Whatever you're up to now, couldn't possibly be more enticing than getting in a proper smoke right now. Sukuna begins to zone out.

He only snaps out of it when something mildly cold grazes past his cheek, leaving a ticklish and moist sensation on his skin as it disappears upon impact.

Bubbles. Bubbles are flying past him, and floating away into the sky.

For a moment, he gets mesmerised by the swirl of colours that are harboured in each one. Even just from the light of this dingy street, they fly up while holding a multitude of different colours inside them. Time seems to slow for a split second, and he doesn't understand why.

His gaze follows the trail to identify it's source. And unsurprisingly, it's you, standing behind him. You blow a couple more out, and then grin at him childishly. He finally looks at your face properly for the first time.

"Birthday bubbles. For the birthday man," you chuckle sheepishly, knowing that you probably look a bit silly right now. You put the bubble wand back into the small bottle of the soapy mixture, and screw it tightly.

"Here, you can have it. Next time you're feeling a bit antsy, why don't you try blowing some yourself? They're pretty, aren't they?"

You also hand him a different small item.

"And i also threw in a little something else, while i was at it."

He looks down, and sees that it's a new lighter. He slowly pulls his hand out of his pocket to take both of them from your hands.

"I hope you get to do something more special next year. Birthdays are supposed to be joyful, after all," you comment.

"Thanks for putting up with my nosiness. Farewell."

And then you leave him after a quick wave.

Sukuna stares wordlessly as you walk off, wondering what to name this ticklish feeling rising in the pit of his stomach.

The small bottle in his palm reminds him of a moment in his childhood. Kids in the park bragging about their bubble wands that were gifted to them. the laughs that resounded as they all ran off to catch the fragile spheres as they blew away in the wind. The tiny feelings of envy in his heart.

The item he tucks away into his pocket is the lighter. And when nobody is watching, he blows a couple more bubbles into the night sky.

-

Every time he passes by that convenience store, the thought of you comes to his mind. A flashback of your smile in the back of his mind. Every so often, he comes to this particular store. Despite having closer options, he comes to this specific one.

At times, sukuna regrets not taking one of the flyers that you were handing out. He wouldn't have had to mope around a convenience store in hopes of running into you again.

Today is a rainy day, and this calls for a hot piping cup of instant ramen. He doesn't usually enjoy convenience store food, but he wants a reason to stay around inside for a bit longer.

He needs to wait five minutes for the noodles to soften. In this time, he stares out the glass frame of the store, and watches the various rows of people walking past with their umbrellas opened.

There appears to be one anomaly in the crowd, however. Running without shelter from the rain, clutching her bag as if it contains something important in there. Sukuna realises that it's you.

Forgetting about his instant ramen, sukuna grabs his umbrella and dashes out the door.

You're mildly panicking about being stuck behind the red light at the zebra crossing without anything to save you from the rain, but the sensation of the droplets hitting your body come to a stop all too suddenly.

You look up, and there's a black umbrella sheltering you, big and strong looking. You spin around and recognise the stranger with pink hair and sharp eyes. Seemingly out of breath.

He signals to the light that has now turned green behind you, and ushers you forward to cross the road before you can say anything to him.

Now safely on the other side of the road, you begin to converse with him.

"It's you! Hello. Thank you for sheltering me. How have you been?"

"... So-so. Nothing's changed since the last time we met."

"I see. You look better than last time, though." You get the feeling that his eyes have a little more light in them.

Sukuna doesn't really get what you mean, but he moves on.

"What’s in your bag that's so important for you to be protecting it like that?" He asks, effectively changing the topic.

"Oh, this? I literally just bought some brand new origami paper... i can't risk getting them wet and unusable. The children would be disappointed."

"Origami, huh? How original."

"Hey! That's not all... there's a lot of options i offer them. They voted on origami this time."

"You got a lot of people signed up?"

"Not really... but I'm sure it'll start picking up soon. Slowly, one at a time."

You smile up at him hopefully.

"...is the offer still open?"

You cock your head to the side slightly, confused. Sukuna grits his teeth, feeling a little bashful about having to ask more specifically.

"You know. Lessons for grown adults."

"Oh! Of course, anytime! Would you like to come sign up today?"

"Do you offer one-on-one sessions too?"

"Yes, I do."

"Alright. Let’s go."

Sukuna can't fathom the words that are coming out of his own mouth. But fuck it, what's the worst that could happen? You've somehow intriged him, and he can't think of a better way to approach you.

You chatter his ears off along the way, and he nods along while his shoulder gets wet from the way he leans his umbrella closer to your side.

[thedovahqueen]

BABY WHAT

NOTHING YOU WEREN'T ACTUALLY SUPPOSED TO SEE THAT NOTHING TO SEE HERE

[wxwrites]

arcane milf sfw/nsfw headcanons! (f!reader)

ft: ambessa, sevika, cassandra, grayson.

SEVIKA | SFW

sevika, who definitely has a hard time learning how to be vulnerable with you. once you eventually peel away the thick layers of her gruff and cold exterior, you'll find a woman who only wants what's best for her girl.

who comes home bruised, battered, and on her last thread as she confides in the comforting and soft skin of the lovely lady waiting for her at home. she'll sigh deeply into the crook of your neck and wrap her flesh arm around you as you help pry off the now broken robotic arm.

who keeps you sat prettily on her lap as she plays against the crass and nasty men of the undercity. she'll keep her flesh hand on your waist as she claws at the cards with the other. the men watch warily as you pull the cigarillo from her lips and pull your own drag off of it, giving them a mocking smirk after.

she would move heaven and hell for you. who would do everything in her power to provide you with the life that you deserve. while she may be cold and hard on the outside, her devotion and loyalty to you and everything you are is unwavering.

NSFW

she can be nasty when she wants to be, she'll lick and suck at all of the sensitive and weak points on your neck. she'll pin your wrists above your head with her mechanical arm as she trails her cold fingers down your chest, leaving faint red marks in their wake.

much more of a giver than a taker. she likes to watch you writhe, squirm, and plead as she stares down at you. she loves the ego boost she gets as you grovel at her, begging for her to touch you.

but other times, if she notices that you're a little more down and out of it– she'll go slower. she'll undress you gently and press chaste kisses into your skin, gently running her hands up and down your back and waist. she'll lay you out on the bed and devour you until you forget the prior worries.

catch an attitude with her? she'll make sure you remember her handprints on your ass for days to come. she'll press your chest into the bed as she pounds into you, wrapping her fist into your hair as she cranes your head back.

she's not crazy on sappy aftercare, but she'll hold you to her chest as she lights another cigarette, scratching at your scalp softly with her metal claws. if you really need it, she'll murmur additional praises and a few "i love you's" until you feel better.

GRAYSON | SFW

(i miss my girl)

grayson, who is often absorbed and swallowed in her work– still manages to make as much time as she can for her sweet girl. whether it's stopping by your apartment on her lunch break, or letting you curl up on the couch in her office, she'll take care of you.

she'll take you on romantic dates on her time off. she'll buy you a new dress for nearly each one and help you dress, pressing kisses to your skin as she slides the straps onto your shoulders. wherever you wanna go, she'll take you.

once she comes home from a too stressful day at work, she'll lay her head in your lap as water boils in a tea kettle. she dozes off as you stroke your hands through her hair, keeping your focus on the book in front of you.

she'll keep a nice fire going on the colder nights, holding you against her as you ramble about your job or studies, both of you sipping on a hot mug of tea.

she's protective and stern when she needs to be, but she also trusts you to be your own person. she doesn't let you go too far without her and prefers when you keep your arms linked, or your hand on her bicep.

NSFW

she's definitely on the softer side of being dominant. she loves watching you writhe in the same way that sevika does, but she'll be much more gentle about it. rather than pinning you to the bed, she'll wrap a strong arm around you as she holds your back against her chest, teasing her hands up and down your thighs.

she'll coo sweet praises into your ear, telling you how pretty and sweet you are.

however, don't take her kindness for granted in any way– she'll pry your legs open and hold them with her own. once she's finished with forcing you over the edge again, and again, she'll wipe the tears off your face and pout at you.

she prefers giving as well, she likes making you feel good, seeing you moan and gasp because of what she's doing sets something off inside of her.

as soft as she may be, she will fuck you within an inch of your life when presented the chance. she had a rough day at work? you better prepare yourself for what's to come.

she takes aftercare very seriously, as well. she'll wipe you down with a warm, wet towel and kiss all of the marks and bruises she left. there is no exception to this treatment, either. she'll lower you into a warm bath and wash you thoroughly.

CASSANDRA | SFW

cassandra, who struggles with balancing her job as a councilwoman and it often sends her home frustrated. but, she does her absolute best to never let you see that side of her. she's doting and attentive, making sure all of your needs are met.

she's stricter than the others, understanding that her position also puts you at more risk. she rarely let's you go out on your own, ensuring you always have a guard of some kind with you.

she loves when you write her letters or notes, whether you send them to work with her, or simply hand them to her.

she's sweet and caring, but she's the last person you would want to cross, especially when it comes to you. we saw how she pulled that gun on cait and vi, and she wouldn't hesitate to do it again.

on the rare occasion her frustration is projected onto you, she takes the space to collect her emotions before returning. she'll pull you into her lap and stroke your hair as your cheek rests on her shoulder. she'll apologize sincerely, correcting herself and immediately addressing her behavior.

she'll often send a maid to your quarters after she had already gotten up for the day, making sure you receive a nice breakfast in bed, filled with all of your favorite foods.

NSFW

some would say she's the strictest out of all of them. she doesn't tolerate brattiness or disobedience in any capacity. she expects proper behavior and obedience from you.

on the rare occasion you do choose to disobey her, it's normally due to lack of attention. she'll strap a vibrator against you and turn her attention to the work on her desk. listening to your whimpers and cries is a melody to her, satisfied as she finally breaks your bratty attitude.

she'll eventually untie you and ask if you're going to choose to behave. once you agree, she'll return to her usual self, dropping the once cruel façade.

similar to grayson, she'll wipe the tears from your face and press a gentle kiss to your head. she'll slowly work through your orgasm, singing gentle praises as she holds your trembling form.

she lovesss sticking her fingers into your mouth, watching you grovel at her feet as you sit on your knees and stare up at her.

she's also really great with aftercare. she's naturally nurturing, she'll coax you out of the submissive headspace slowly and help you sit up. once you have food and water in your system, she'll take you to the shower and clean you off.

AMBESSA | SFW

ambessa, who is difficult to work with sometimes. her stubbornness and callousness make it hard for her to properly express her love and appreciation for you.

she often does it through sending gifts or bringing back treasures and jewelry during her escapades. don't get me wrong, she adores you. but, growing up in such a rough environment has made it hard for her to understand how to treat you.

on the extremely rare occasion she's vulnerable with you, she shows it by slowly shedding her armor and sitting on your shared bed, head in her hands. she lets you rub your hands over her shoulders as you remain quiet, letting her open up when she's ready.

she loves when you sit on her lap during meetings, keeping her hand tight on your thigh or hips– smirking as the men before you two gawk at your pretty figure.

she likes watching you prance around the gala's she attends, admiring your pretty body through the dress she had chosen for you earlier that evening.

NSFW

you think sevika is rough? you're definitely in for it with her.

she likes it when you choose to be a little bratty and disobedient, she gets off on putting you right back into your place.

she'll grab you by your jaw a little too tightly and stare down at you hungrily, tilting your head back painfully. she likes wrapping her hand around your throat and listening to your whimpers, watching as you take in little gasps.

she's definitely the type to strap you so hard you walk with a limp the next day. she'll watch you smugly and tease you about it, askin' what happened to you in front of your peers.

she's more likely to degrade you than the others, calling you her pretty slut as she chokes you on her fingers.

she would DEFINITELY like watching grind against her thigh or leg, gripping your hips tightly as she controls your pace.

she likes when you're on top, forcing you to work for your orgasm if she's feeling a little extra mean. she knows you can't get off without her help, so she'll laugh as she watches you struggle.

she might not seem like it, but she is very good with aftercare. she makes up for her cruelness with a massage to the bruises on your skin. she'll wipe you off and help you drink your water, guiding your hands gently. she reminds you of how much she loves you, and means nothing of the mean words she says.

[p3achfilm]

pretty boy. armin a.

cwᯓᡣ𐭩 nsfw link, virgin!armin, masterbating, cockwarming, sex outdoors, size difference, minor mention of blood as armin fucks readers throat, cum-eating, eren + connie cameo . . . or in which he can’t stop getting hard at the thought of you. mdni.

a/n ᯓᡣ𐭩 literally throbbed writing this. also if you’ve been following me for a while, i og had this as a complete story but I’ve cut it down and edited it <3

campcounselor!armin who you can’t help but gawk at. he’s fine as fuck. his blonde hair falls perfectly into his face, giving him an almost ethereal look. he’s wearing a sleeveless nirvana shirt that clings to his toned form, the fabric stretching just enough to hint at the strength beneath. his inked muscles flex as he fluidly lights his cigarette, each movement smooth and deliberate, like a well-rehearsed dance.

it’s almost mesmerizing how tendrils of white clouds spill from his pink lips, curling and twisting in the air before dissipating. the way he handles the cigarette, with such casual grace, adds an air of mystery to his already captivating presence. he’s talking to his friends, his voice a mix of warmth and authority, occasionally breaking into a deep, resonant laugh that seems to reverberate through the air, sending you clutching your legs.

campcounselor!armin who you find out is a bit shy, ironic seeing as he’s the epitome of sex on legs. yet as you’re complementing the intricate ink that litters his body his cheeks turn a soft pink, and he looks down, a shy smile playing on his lips. it's almost comical how someone so effortlessly attractive can be so bashful. his shyness only adds to his charm, making him even more intriguing and endearing.

campcounselor!armin who’s taken a liking to you. his steel blue eyes watch intently as you prance around on the dock in that tight ass bathing suit, every movement captivating him. your large tits are barely held by the flimsy fabric, and your pussy lips are practically busting out of your bikini bottoms, making it impossible for him to look away. god, you’re so fucking sexy. he could get drunk off the way you laugh, so airy and light, like music to his ears.

he almost can’t believe it when you cannonball into the lake, water splashing everywhere, and your flimsy top unties itself in the process. his heart races as he swims over to you, his hands trembling slightly as he helps tie the strings together for you, the close proximity making his breath hitch. your mango-scented hair is like a slap to the face, intoxicating and overwhelming his senses. he’s so fucking hard, he can’t stop his mind from wandering how your big glossy lips would feel wrapped around his cock.

campcounselor!armin who is trying not to lose his cool as you lay on his chest, one leg outstretched and the other tossed over his. it's exactly one week before the kids start showing up, so eren suggested a movie night. so here all of you are, squeezed into the boy’s cabin. you hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but star wars was just so damn boring. armin finds even your soft snores perfect—honestly, do you have any flaws?

he can feel your warm breath against his neck, and it's driving him insane. every slight movement you make sends shivers down his spine. he hopes he doesn’t wake you as he carefully slides from underneath your limp body, trying to be as gentle as possible. his tip is leaking from how horny he is, and he knows he has to do something about this raging boner before it gets out of hand.

armin lazily mutters an excuse to connie about going out for a smoke, his voice barely above a whisper. the buzzcut boy, too busy drawing a dick on sleeping eren’s forehead with a mischievous grin, just nods absentmindedly. armin steps outside, the cool night air hitting his flushed face as he tries to calm himself down.

campcounselor!armin who can’t calm himself with a cigarette, the thought of you is too much. “f-fuck, 𐙚⋆°.⋆♡!” his whimpers are desperate as he strokes his thick cock sore. the thought of you writhing underneath him as he pounds your sweet pussy has his head lulling back. steadying himself against the cold, graffiti-covered bathroom stall with one hand, closed fist working his twitching tip quickly. he imagines it’s your warm mouth, your lips wrapped around him, and his legs shake at the thought of you looking up at him with those big doe brown eyes as you gag on him.

he wants nothing more than to use your mouth as a pocket pussy, “such a pretty face. i wanna nut on it,” he breathes raggedly. the wetness that coats him is loud as he rubs himself, bucking his hips into his ‘o’ shaped hand. he can almost feel the heat of your breath, the slickness of your tongue. “ughhhhhh,” a loud groan echoes through the stall as hot spurts of cum spill into his hand, his eyes roll back as he continues tugging himself until he’s shaking from sensitivity.

campcounselor!armin who’s taken back by your question, ‘we should ditch, right?’ his hands fiddle with the beer can, looking like a toy in his hands. before he can respond you’re pulling the six foot two man to his feet, a couple of ooooo’s coming from the group perched around the campfire. you giggle, saluting a middle finger then locking hands with armin before you set off on a nearby trail that led to the water. it always looked magnificent this time of night, stars mirrored in the still water, moonlight bouncing off and emitting light throughout the night air.armin stumbles slightly as you pull him along, his laughter mingling with yours as you navigate the winding path.

the sounds of the campfire and your friends' voices fade into the background, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant call of night birds. the air is cool and crisp, carrying the scent of pine and earth. you can hear the soft lapping of water against the shore growing louder as you approach.

“w-where are we going? we aren’t supposed to get in the water after ten,” armin stutters, and you giggle, looking over your shoulder at him. the moonlight casts a gentle glow on the lake, creating a serene and almost magical atmosphere.

“do you always follow the rules? c’mon, don’t be boring,” you say softly as you two finally make it to the wooden dock. the wood creaks under your feet, and the gentle lapping of the water against the shore adds a rhythmic background to your adventure. armin nervously bites his lip; here you are just holding his hand, and he’s hard as a rock, feeling like a teenage boy hitting puberty all over again.

“no, of course not,” he lies through his teeth, not wanting to seem like a loser. the cool night air brushes against his skin, contrasting with the warmth emanating from your hand.

you giggle, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, and he wants to desperately kiss you. you look so pretty to him, and if he wasn’t such a coward, he’d pull you into him. the reflection of the stars in your eyes makes his heart race even faster.

“you know i saw you that night, right?”

armin freezes. no . . . you couldn’t have, you were asleep. the sudden shift in conversation makes his heart skip a beat, and he feels his face flush with embarrassment.

he gulps and scratches his frizzy blonde hair sheepishly. “w-what? i really don’t know—”

you cut him off immediately, “don’t be coy, armin. i heard you in the bathroom whimpering my name.” you’d woken up a couple minutes after armin had left, rubbing your eyes groggily as you looked for the man. connie had stated he’d gone to the bathroom, and you decided to go see if he was okay, but to your surprise, when you reach the door, you can hear armin calling out your name in pleasure.

“well, that’s embarrassing… i’m mortified. i promise i’m not a creep, okay?” armin says quickly as he panics. he’s taken aback when you press your soft lips against his, a small moan emitting from his throat as he wraps his hands around you. the kiss is electric, sending shivers down his spine as he pulls you closer.

you pull back from his lips, a string of saliva following, and you swipe your thumb across his lips. you swear you can see his pupils dilate as you do that.

“have you ever had your dick sucked?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, but the words hang in the air between you, laden with anticipation.

armin shifts in embarrassment; he’s never so much as seen a pair of boobs besides in magazines, let alone had his dick sucked. you take his non-answer as a no and slowly get to your knees, hands fumbling with the belt on his jeans. his heart races in his chest—is this really happening? is a pretty girl really about to give him head? is this a setup?

he hears your fingers unlatch the belt and your hands pull down his pants, fingers playing with the hem of his gray calvin klein boxers. you bite your lip as you look up at him through your lashes, his bright blue eyes meeting yours. the dim light of the cabin casts a warm glow, making the moment feel almost surreal. the scent of pine and campfire smoke lingers in the air, adding to the intimate atmosphere.

“what happens at summer camp stays at summer camp, okay armin?” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart.

he nods anxiously, his breath hitching as your fingers brush against his skin.

“i’m gonna make you feel good, okay?” you assure him, your tone soft and comforting.

“o-okay,” he whispers so low you almost don’t hear it, his voice trembling with anticipation and nerves.

campcounselor!armin who’s fucking your throat relentlessly, hips rolling into your mouth at a constant speed. you hold his thighs for support as he uses you like a ragdoll, feeling the muscles tense under your fingertips. “shitttt,” he drawls, your tongue sliding across his cock greedily, tasting the salty sweat mixed with his precum. he has to bite back a moan at the sight beneath him, spit and light specks of blood covering his dick as you suck him. the moonlight casts shadows over your face, highlighting the saliva-covered mess, eyes half-lidded as your fingers circle your clit in hard motions.

“sucking me so good,” armin grunts, reveling in the shlurp sounds that fill the night air. your mouth is so tight and warm around him, it’s hard for him to keep his head from lulling back. “shit shit shit, g’na make me nut.” his voice is whiny and shaky, the way you’re fondling his nutsack has got him in pure fucking shambles. he’s so close, stomach clenching tighter each passing second. he wants to pull out, he swears he does, but fuck you’re so inviting to be inside.

“cummin’!” armin groans, hot seed spilling into your mouth, tumbling from the corners of your lips. you giggle, wiping the sticky mess off your face with your shirt. “i-uh, fuck. i’m sorry,” he stammers, cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and post-orgasmic bliss. you laugh at his apology, “you’re saying sorry for cumming in my mouth?” you quip an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “uh yeah . . . guess i am.” you shake your head at his innocence, standing to your feet. the night air cools the sweat on your skin as you lean in close, whispering, “don’t be. just fuck me.”

campcounselor!armin who’s stretching your poor pussy around his thick cock, making you lose your mind. they always say big dick men are the quiet ones, but this? this is absolutely delicious. “armin,” you whimper breathlessly, feeling every powerful thrust in your tummy as he pounds into you. he's buried so deep inside you, his bulge visible each press into you. your swollen lips ache from the intensity and friction against them. you want to run but you're locked in by his grip, unable to escape. you're a mess beneath him, a drooling, crying, whimpering mess. “fuck, you’re tight as shit.” armin whimpers, the feeling of you clutching his cock almost unbearable.

campcounselor!armin who’s summer just got a whole lot better.

[venmondiese]

WEIRD HOBBIES

-ˋˏ| summary: you meet a guy in a bar and decide to go back to his place, as weird as he might seem.

✧ | Pairing: Martin (in the modern world) x reader

✧ | word count: 2.3k

✧ | Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Oral (f/m receiving), 69 position, Martin is weird as hell but a pussy eating champ! Not beta proof<3

“So… what’s your name again?” You ask curiously, walking behind the man that holds your hand, guiding you through his home, and to his bedroom. You don’t complain, though, since you were out just for that; to get home with a handsome man. 

There was this band that you never heard of playing near your house, and it took little for your brain to convince you to go. If something good came from it, you would get fucked. If something bad came from it, well… you hoped for the first one. 

That’s how you ended up here, following a dude, which looks from head to toe like a metal head. His hair goes to his shoulders, coal black, which you assume he dyed it, and some graphic shirt with the words ‘Knotfest’ and all, wearing some metal stuff that you didn’t really know much about.

And you looked like a rock groupie, with a leather top that practically squeezed your tits and a dark jeans miniskirt with some boots. Yet, this mysterious man was still taller than you, and that was quite exciting, and a bit arousing.

“Eh, Martin” he says nonchalantly, as he grabs your hand, his bracelets really end up the detail of his fit, and you feel really horny now to lay with this dude. “Yours?”

You tell Martin your name, following him as he opens his bedroom door. To be fair, it is tidier than you imagined.

“Sorry the mess” he murmurs, moving the drone and an electric guitar out of his bed. You hum, looking around curiously, to the badly positioned posters, some rock-metal bands that you didn’t know about.

“Is that a snake?” You ask, watching the little head of the reptile in the middle of the dim light coming from outside.

“Uh- no, it’s a lizard” 

A guy with a lizard as a pet. Okay.

“What is its name?” 

“Lizard. I don’t like naming them-” 

Great. 

You look at him with a fake smile. The dick better be good you think, taking out your jacket and leaving it on a chair next to the desk.

“Be careful, spider likes to crawl near there”

You took your jacket off there, and you really hoped that he had a dog called spider because otherwise it would be strange as hell.

“Riiiiight” you say, leaving your jacket in a hanger of his opened closet. Whatever. “So… Apart from having a lizard and a spider… do you maybe also have… a cockroach?”

He lets out a huff, his lips turning upwards as he takes his shirt off. “No” Martin says. “I do have another thing, though, it’s very big”

You try to smile at his corny, cringy words. It’s for the dick. You repeat to yourself: The dick better be good. He better not finish in two minutes. He better knows how to eat pussy.

“Ha. Funny” you say as you start to take off those boots.

“How did ya meet the band?”

“Ehmm… A friend dated the brother of an ex of the bassist. I think” you say watching as he frowns his eyebrows slightly trying to make any sense as he lights up a cigarette. 

“ah, nice” he says as he lays on bed as he smokes the cigarette, taking off his shirt as he remains only in those Adidas jeans of his. “Heard the songs before?”

“Once or twice” you say looking at the CD albums stacked on top of each other messily, and you move to grab a solitude piece of paper, as you can practically feel Martin’s eyes on your ass. “I liked the vocalist, quite handsome, don’t you think?” you unwrap softly the paper, away from Martin’s eyes.

It was an address. It piqued your curiosity.

“Aye, come here” his voice is soft as he extends his hand to turn off the cigarette on the glass ashtray, which has the shape of a dragon.

You turn around and walk toward his bed, and watch how he seems eager to have you. It’s hot to have a man drooling for you like Martin is now. And his erection is the living proof of it; it was obvious against his trousers that he was rock hard. You wondered if he was leaking as well. 

You straddle his lap, a smirk forming on your lips as his hands move immediately to your thighs, cold hands moving slowly up to find their way to your ass. 

“Sit on my face” Martin murmurs, words slightly stuck between his pants

“Hm? What was that?” You ask petulantly, pretending not to have heard. 

“Come on, beautiful, sit on my face” he says, pushing your hips closer to his chest, trying to push your miniskirt up.

“Gotta take my panties off” you say softly to him, watching his lips as he licks them, savouring the ghosting taste of you.

“No, like this” he murmurs, eager to taste you. “I’ll eat you from behind even.” Martin proposes, more desperate than the last time “Please”

You might forgive cheesy comments for his eagerness. You sigh with a wide smirk, turning around as Martin places his big hands around your thighs, dragging your centre closer to his face. 

Eager was the wrong word for it; he was desperate.

His hand moved your panties to the side, and his face almost nuzzled your cunt, before starting to press his tongue on your centre. You could hear his groan of pure delight, his hands caressing the skin of your thighs and ass as he delighted himself. 

“Fuck” you said, but it was as if all the air from your lungs when out in that moan. 

Martin’s hands were keeping you still, not allowing you to move your hips to grind his face as you wanted. You could hear his moans, the way he slurped and nuzzled his face on your cunt. 

He was a pro, eating pussy as if he did it every day (maybe he did, god knows), and he didn’t seem to care for his lack of air in the matter. He was on it, devoted to eating your dripping cunt as if it was his last meal on earth.

Your hands are pressed on his stomach, and he has to forcefully let you go to breathe, and you sigh as you feel his breaths. 

“Where did you learn to do that?” You breathe softly, as you can hear how he pants, catching his breath. 

“A good pussy can make a man go feral, love” he says, moving your panties out of the way as his index and middle finger move to rub against your slit. 

He was cheesy, and it was a bit weird. Yet it couldn’t bother you less, you had been with worse men, and Martin was good in other areas…, well, at least in sex and eating out a pussy. And it was more than average, so you were up to it.

Before he decides to keep on eating you, still caressing your clit as he catches his breath, you lean a bit on his torso, to try to pull down the leather pants, opening the zipper. 

It takes you a bit, yet after accomplishing your mission, your hand grabs his dick to guide it into your warm, eager mouth. 

He was well doted, and hard as a rock. He was leaking, and his tip was a bit pink compared with the rest of his cock. 

God damn you if it didn’t make your mouth drool. Between him eating you out, and his leaking cock, you think you will go insane. He could have cheeky, cringe comments but you could live with it. You couldn’t live without him eating you out or his cock. 

You are as enthusiastic with his cock as he is. Though, you start slower. You take the head on your mouth, sucking on it as you feel him groan against your pussy. It was fucking hot, and it had you moaning on his cock. You didn’t remember the last time your legs were trembling like this, and how much you wanted to feel a dick in your throat. It was a need, a primal need.

Martin was kind and nice, had his things, but god, you need to fuck him. You might even need to have his babies by now. You wouldn’t complain if he came all inside you, filling you with his cum, and making you pregnant. Fuck, it even turned you more on. What was this man doing to you?

You took more of his dick in your mouth, trying to take all of it, not minding if you choke on it. He was hot. More than hot, in truth.

Martin was relentless with his tongue, lapping at your cunt again and again, moaning loudly against it as he could feel how deep you were taking his cock in your mouth. Your hand moved to cup his balls, as your tongue tried to swirl around his tip. It drove him insane. 

It was not long before you started to cum, moaning loudly, his dick slipping from your mouth as your thighs pressed against his face, riding his face and nose as he was making you cum. His tongue was as greedy as him, and he worked with his nose along your slit. And it made you cum hard, rolling your eyes back. “Fuck, Martin, just like that…” You say, hips grinding against his mouth in a desperate need to stretch the feeling a bit more. 

And once you finish, your mouth goes back to his cock, to keep on sucking him off. “Fuck, you feel incredible” he rasped, as you moved forward, closer to his cock and have full access, as Martin’s hips pumped upwards to fuck your mouth. 

You lay on his chest, his face back on the pillow, moaning loudly as you seem to try to drain him completely, deepthroating him as if it was nothing at all.

“Fuck, you are going to make me cum” He says, teeth gripped as his hand moves to grab a fist of your hair, to move your head down to allow him fuck your mouth deep as he wanted. His own head titles back in pure bliss and pleasure, moaning loudly as he uses your mouth as a desperate animal in need to cum. Not that you complain, it costs a bit more to breathe, and you were almost choking, but hearing Martin be so local, groaning, moaning and grunting was worth it. 

His cum soon fills your mouth, and he keeps you still, the signal clear for you to swallow all of it, as his throbbing cock unleashed his hot cum. 

“Swallow it… fuck, swallow it all, take what I give you…” he mutters in pure bliss.

As the last drops of cum are licked off his cock, he leans back and you move to his side. 

“That was great” You mutter, looking at the ceiling. How could he be so great at it?

“Yeah. Cig break and round two?”

“Hell yeah”

You are with your friend when you search the location in the paper that you found in Martin’s room. You were supposed to go to the club, you were wearing your miniskirt and a top, really to party, but that man had eaten your pussy and fucked you like no one before, so you felt entitled to find what that was for.

“It’s cold” Your friend, Tamara, says. She was chewing gum as she followed you begrudgingly. 

“It’s a fucking parking lot?” You ask looking around the empty street, the night made it lonely yet not totally isolated. 

“Your darling buries the bodies here” Your friend says, obviously judging it all. “Can we go?”

“Look, there is a car” you point out, as the car seems to be jumping around due to the movements inside. “Gods, you think they are having sex?”

“Ew, you think he has a brothel in his car?” Tamara asks you, looking at the car as you both get closer. “Eww and you fucked without a condom… You could get an IST, and die”

“It is called an STD, and… I think he is not fucking anyone” you frown slightly, getting closer.

“Careful! What if his pimp is here…?”

“He is fighting someone!” You say looking inside the car, as you find Martin pressing the head of the other guy against the window. 

Surely, Martin was a weird dude. He was corny as hell, and he had pets called like the species they were. Sure. He almost burned his hair as he smoked after sex, yes; and he also ate pussy like a champ and was hung as a horse. 

“I am going there” You tell your friends. “The dick is worth it”

“Yikes” 

As you walk closer, you feel your friend either staying behind or walking away, not that you care. 

Martin had blood trailing down his forehead, and was lying in the passenger’s seat as his thighs choked the other guy he was with, holding his head still with his hands. Okay, whatever, a guy can have hobbies.

When he sees you, he starts rolling down the window of the car, as you lean closer to his height.

“Hey, darling- how did ya–”

“A girl has her secrets” you say, smiling as you see him. God, he was sexy as hell. “I want my pussy eaten” 

Martin smirks, and he leans back to sigh at your request, as if the idea delights him. He still applies pressure to the other dude, who seems to pass out. Martin leans forward closer to your lips and whispers “Will ya’ wait ten minutes as I finish with this round?”

“Three” You bargain.

“Seven.”

“Three”

“Five and I’ll make you cum twice.” His final offer, and the time you had in mind. Offering lower than one wants always seems work to get your official deal, even with an extra.

“Deal” you accept with a smirk. 

And what if he was fighting inside a car? You fancied Martin, and sure as hell he fancied you. Even if he has weird hobbies. 

[ceilidho]

landscape with honey

summary: price/reader bear shifter fic. PART 4. (read the whole thing on ao3 here) tags: light daddy kink, breeding kink, very nsfw, she/her pronouns for reader

-

He starts showing up at your house at odd hours. 

You’re fixing coffee in the morning, still fuzzy and warm from sleep, only to hear the sounds of hammering outside. Wrapping yourself in just a housecoat, you find John fixing the loose step on your stairs, barely sparing enough time to greet you before returning to the task at hand. When he finishes, he brushes off your attempts to pay him for the job, just loading his tools back in the car and driving off.

You sip your coffee and wonder. Odd.

The next day, you find him raking the leaves in your lawn. Two days later, he shows up at the grocers when you’re picking up produce, and helps you carry all your bags to the car. He also adds a peculiar amount of canned goods to your order and when you fret and try to tell him that you don’t need the pickles and sauerkraut and beans and all of that stuff, he just lays a hand flat on your head and drags it down your hair until you go quiet. 

He pays for the whole order.

You’ve never had to wonder about a man’s actions. Men are largely inscrutable to you, ever-shifting. They say one thing and mean another. They look at you like one might look at an oil painting, entitled something like Virgin Meeting Her Lover’s Eyes From The Top Of The Staircase or Landscape With Virgin. They speak to you as though an answer were entirely antithetical to their purpose in conversing with you. 

John listens to you with a focus that borders on intimidating, like he wants to hear each word enunciated exactly how you might enunciate it. It has the sharp clarity of respect, of a mutual acknowledgement of humanity. He also comes over to fix your sink without you having to ask. The world of men is still largely confusing to you. 

John grows surlier as the days grow shorter though. He doesn’t snap or snarl at you the way he does sometimes with his recruits (you rarely see him interact with them, but sometimes you’ll drop him off his lunch on the days when you’re feeling particularly generous and that’s when you’ll have the rare pleasure of hearing him shout at a trembling twenty-three year old for littering on the trail like a military captain), but it’s a near thing. 

The worst is when he catches you on a jog one morning on his drive to work. You see his truck with the faded red paint pass you by and you give a short wave that he returns. He passes you by about half a yard before coming to a full stop and reversing. You stare at him as the window rolls down, brows furrowed.

“Hi Jo—” you start.

“Get in the car,” John growls. You hear the doors unlock. 

“…My uh…my shift’s in two hours, John, I can’t just—”

“Get in the car.”

“This is my only time to exercise!”

“If I have to get out of this car and drag you inside, honey, I will. Don’t play with me. Get in.”

You get in the car. Probably wisely. Still dripping sweat and shivering from the cold—you’re not used to jogging in the winter, or at all for that matter, but it seemed like as good a time as any to start—you glance over to stare at the side of John’s face. His jaw is set, almost as if in anger. His knuckles are white over the steering wheel as he makes a U-turn and drives back into town. The cab of his truck smells like flannel pulled out from the back of a closet, almost musty, but comforting in the way that old clothes can sometimes smell. There’s a cigarette ashed out in the dish in front of the centre console. 

He takes you to the nearest bakery for coffee and a breakfast muffin and stares you down until you eat the whole thing. You feel like you have to scarf it down. Customers bustle into the bakery to order coffee to-go and fresh cookies and scones in waxy paper bags; everyone in town knows each other so you try to avoid the more curious stares when they’re turned on you.

“This is weird,” you say, staring down at the crumbs on your plate. “This is really weird.”

“This is what you get for exercising before winter,” John says, flagging down the barista for another muffin and a refill on your coffee. “Waste of calories.” The last part is said derisively, almost with a scoff. 

You frown. “Lots of people exercise. Even when it snows.”

“Winter is a time for hibernating. Not…sweat,” he says with a grimace, like the very thought is anathema to him. 

"Hibernating?" you repeat skeptically, scrunching up your nose. "I mean, I spend a lot of time indoors, but I wouldn't say I'm hibernating."

John stares at you until you look away, flushed. "Finish your breakfast."

The barista returns with another blueberry muffin and a fresh cup of coffee. At least John's the one paying. When he finally seems satisfied, he hustles you home and leaves you off at the door with a stern warning. 

“You gonna be good for me this time?” he asks, a finger curled under your chin, tilting your head up. One of his hands curls around the doorframe and your heart jumps when you hear the wood creak under his grip. This close, you can see the faintest silver streaks at his temples and the flecks of it in his beard.

“It was just a light jog,” you mumble, looking away. 

“Not a light anything,” he warns, ducking closer until you feel like shrinking back, like disappearing into your house. “Bake a cake if you have to burn off energy so bad. I’ll be over around seven, alright?” 

You mumble something, the words getting lost in themselves. It’s impossible to think with John in your space like this. It’s only when he finally pulls away and ambles back to his truck that you rock back on your heels, let go of whatever spell he had you under. 

The first week of December hits town like a truck. 

You’re trudging home alone after your shift when you make the decision to cut through the forest because you missed the last bus and you don’t want to spend an hour walking home. The first snow of the season has caught you off guard, clad in boots too autumnal and a sweater too thin for the biting cold. The flakes fall in thick chunks that stick for a brief moment before melting into the skin.

It’s not the first time you’ve travelled through the forest alone. The town is surrounded by pockets of the forest, like it can’t help enveloping whatever space is left for it. Oftentimes it’s easier just to cut through the woods rather than travel the long way around. You wouldn’t even call this the forest proper, not like the acres of trees sprouting over the mountains just off in the distance. 

A bush rustles. Your eyes flick over for a second, breath hovering in your chest before you decide that it’s just a squirrel. Nothing ever happens in a town like this. The man from the other day notwithstanding, nothing truly bad ever happens. You keep walking down the partially demarcated path, lit only by the full moon overhead. It’s so dark that the snow around you is almost blue. 

The bush rustles again. You stop this time, feet staying planted in the snow long enough for your feet to grow cold. You stare at the dark shoots covered in a layer of snow; it stripes the branches like candy from a time ago, licorice twisted with white bark, and it doesn’t move when you look at it. The bushes and trees are dense, impossible to peer through. Even walking through the forest doesn’t make you feel immersed in it. You follow a barely marked path, hard to see through the recent snowfall, and stare out into the dark woods with a kind of animal sense. Not sure whether you’re alone, whether something’s there with you, and whether it’s sensed you or if you’ve sensed it first. 

You start walking again when your feet go numb. Better to just get home.

It comes behind you again as a slightly louder rustle. It’s harder to shake off the fear this time, harder to say that it’s just the wind. The snow crunches under more than one set of feet, branches cracking under the weight of something larger than you. 

You don’t want to turn around, but the sound of something chuffing makes your stomach drop. The first thing that emerges when you turn to face it is its massive head, a white frosted muzzle, and the visible hump on its back. The wispy smoke of its breath puffs out when it breathes. Its eyes are dark, hardly reflecting any light at all. Then the rest of it emerges, the saplings bending out of its way as it clambers out of the woods and onto the path, staring you down all the while.

You’ve never seen a bear before. Not this close. Not so close that you know it’s been stalking you, know that it didn’t come upon you by accident. You’re staring down at your own body from somewhere else, fear displacing you. Rending you from your own body. There’s no way to guess its weight at a glance, but it’s easily twice the size of you, easily more than that. 

When it takes a step forward, everything goes dark. 

You wake up snuggled under the warmth of a thick blanket. Sleep is creamy thick, engulfing you on all sides, only the faintest prickle of awareness letting you know that you’re awake. 

It’s unpleasant to leave the cotton miasma of sleep, you think. Your nose scrunches up and you let out a tired huff, trying to will yourself back into it. The harder you try to force yourself back into it though, the farther away it floats.

Still it weighs you down. It takes an age to work up the energy to so much as twitch a finger. Even your eyelids insist on staying shut. Yet, the prickle of consciousness needles at you as if to say hello, wake up, you need to get up. You sigh and try to shimmy up onto your elbows.

A hand shoves you back down. The breath rushes out of you.

“Get…back down,” a rough voice grunts from over you and then the full weight of a man settles on top of you, pressing you deep into the mattress. 

Consciousness snaps back into you, elastic sharp. The weight of him pins you to the bed, makes you sink into the plushness of—and this is gradually coalescing in your mind—an unfamiliar place. All four corners of your body are trapped under him. The voice is familiar though. Ragged, brutal. A saw taken to the trunk of an old, thick tree, too many interior rings to count. You whisper John’s name and he grunts, making you flinch from how the sound reverberates through the side of your head.

Exhaustion is thick though and it leaves you heavy, even when John slowly lifts himself to his elbows from behind you. You feel him drag his body down the length of the bed, beard scratching into your skin with every petal soft kiss dropped along your spine during his descent.

“John?” you whisper, only just able to turn your head, not even able to struggle up to your elbows. “J-John?”

He doesn’t answer you. The room is near pitch black, only a window on the other end of the room with the curtain pulled back the smallest amount enough to let the moonlight in. Even the moonlight isn’t enough. You know from the shape of the window that this isn’t your house, that it must be somewhere else. You can only surmise from John’s presence that it’s his, but that thought passes over you like a rock skipping over water. 

“Wher’m’I?” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut when his lips press over the small of your back. Sensitive there. 

Rough hands with callused fingertips smooth over your ass, pressing into the flesh. His fingers pry your cheeks apart, thumbs dipping into the space between and pressing over your hole, making you burn all over. You’re too far gone to worry about any hair on your legs or anything about your body other than John’s hands undulating over your ass and thighs. You flinch violently when his teeth sink into the meat on the underside of your ass, so tender that even exhausted to the bone your body lashes out. 

Big hands pry your legs apart. You flinch at the sudden hot breath over your sex, a whine tickling your throat. His face hovers so close to your centre that the tip of his nose presses on the tender skin near your entrance. 

“Wha’ d’you…think you’re doin’...” you ask breathlessly. Your brain tries to order your leg to kick, but it stays flat and limp on the bed. 

The first touch of John’s tongue along your slit makes you melt, the flat of his tongue lapping upward and making your hips tilt up with it. It almost makes your mind go blank again, almost tips you back into the unconscious world because the synapses in your brain stop firing the second you remember that it’s John between your legs licking hungrily at your cunt. John from the grocery store, John from the ranger’s station in the mountains—the John you’ve been crushing on and coveting for months now, content to just be friends with the gruff, handsome man in the house next to yours. Now sucking one of your nether lips into his mouth and tracing his tongue up the inside, gliding it over the supple flesh.

“Yer in the den,” John mumbles into your pussy and it’s like he sears the words into your brain. “‘N I’m takin’ care of you, honey.”

“The…the den…?” It’s so hard to keep your thoughts in order. Each flick of his tongue makes you gasp, pussy growing wetter and hips grinding languidly down on his face.

He hums instead of answering. 

“Why’m’I so tired?” you slur. 

His tongue saws over your clit from behind. It tears a broken whimper from you. You feel every textured ridge, the way it flicks around in a circle and then up and down again. 

“Winter season,” John says, sucking your clit into his mouth until you whine at the top of your lungs. “Bear’s sleep in winter.”

“Tha’s silly. M’not a bear,” you moan. 

“No,” he agrees, humming into your sex. “Jus’ mated to one. Makes you sleepy too, honey.”

“Mated?” you repeat back, but it’s lost in the way you moan when he eats your pussy from the back, licking into you with renewed vigour. Hungry like a bear. Grunting like a satisfied man, slurping loud enough to make your face heat up. 

Words and old memories about bears hardly matter when the handsome man from next door spreads your legs wide, almost to the point of pain, and sinks his tongue into your hole again. You never would’ve expected John to be vocal, but he’s noisy behind you, groaning into your cunt. He keeps mumbling things under his breath that you can’t catch. 

“John—” you gasp, biting your lip when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. “John—John—”

He only has to give you a single finger to tip you over the edge, feeds it in nice and slow. Your cunt clenches down at the intrusion, teeth nearly breaking through the skin of your lip. 

When he crawls back over you, anticipation makes you shudder. You hear something faint in the background that grows steadily louder as John rests his elbows on either side of your head, until you realize that it’s your own voice murmuring, “Put it in, put it in, put it in—”

He obliges. A thick, steady plunge that hardly manages more than a handful of inches before you’re crying, and it’s too much, too much, too much. Pleasure not a limpid pool anymore but something cavernous and deep-dwelling, pulling you in or trying to make a home inside of you for it. John’s biceps tense with the strain of holding himself back. 

You balance on the knife’s edge between pleasure and pain. There’s a single thought in your head that it might burn you up from the inside; it runs a jagged hole through you. 

His nose drags through your hair. “Never expected you. Thought I’d go another season alone ‘till I started smellin’ you around town.”

You hiccup. “Y’never—never paid me any attention ‘for— before, ah—”

“‘Course I paid attention to’ya, honey,” John says into your ear, grunting when he drives deeper into your pussy, still just a languid grind of his hips, so mind-numbingly slow that your thoughts sizzle out of your head. He keeps dragging his hips back and plunging in, barely pulling away from you, all skin on slick skin. “Made a home for m’self in your house. Made sure we had ‘nough to eat for the winter.”

“The winter?”

“Won’t be goin’ anywhere for a few months.” He brushes your hair out of the way to kiss down your neck, giving in to the urge to bite just a little. His body stays pressed tight to yours, hardly an inch of space between the two of you. “Wasn’ sure at first if it’d be here or in your house so… fuck, I had to get ready. Make sure you’d be safe when it hit.”

“Don’ even…know wha’ that means,” you mumble into the mattress, then squeal and fist the fists when John shoves a hand under you to grope your chest.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shushes you. “All y’have to do now is lie there ‘n take my cock, okay, honey? Can’ya do that for me? I’ll get some food in you after we’re done, then send ya back to bed.”

Only a whine comes out when you open your mouth. John’s arm by your head forces you to breathe in the scent of him, musky and rich. You stare at the hair on his knuckles and his thick fingers gripping the sheets as well, old nicks and scars decorating his hand. You can’t stop staring at his fingers and thinking that he had one of those in you before, that he’s felt you from the inside. 

He never pulls away, never changes positions, just fucks you on your tummy in his bed. You’ve never been in John’s bedroom before, but this has to be his room—even the pillowcase smells like him, pine needles and cigar smoke. He keeps up a steady pounding into your cunt, rutting like a wild animal. Has to be close. Gets so close to you that you feel smothered, trapped in place. Like if you struggled, he wouldn’t let up. You want to test it, see if you could, but the heaviness is still in your limbs, keeping you docile. Convenient. A little convenient thing for him to use, like a doll to get himself off with.

“Never coulda imagined such a pretty girl f’r me,” John groans, getting a grip in your hair to twist your head, tugging you into a kiss. Your whole body sparks to life, so shocked that you can’t even kiss him back at first. You wait until he pulls back, staring into his half-lidded eyes through the mess of your hair all tangled up around you. “Gave up on thinkin’ there was anyone out there. Thank fuck I found you first, honey. Can start workin’ on all the good stuff now. Get you to give daddy a baby.”

“D-daddy?” you gasp back, almost scandalized. 

He pants into your shoulder, worked up now. “Yeah, honey. Don’ I take care of you? Buy y’r food, fix y’r house? Give you someplace nice ‘n warm to sleep?”

You feel soaked with sweat, twitchy, on the verge of something dangerous. Vision all fogged up, heart beating so fast that your skin buzzes. Stretched out on a fat cock and pinned in a man’s bed, nowhere to run or hide. 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter when John gets a bit rougher, his breathing getting more staggered, laboured. 

“That’s right, girl,” he grunts, “I’m y’r fuckin’ daddy then, aren’t I?”

Magma bubbles up from deep inside of you. Rockslides off in the distance beat against the ground. When you cry out, it gets lost in the rubble. 

You stumble into the living room maybe hours later after using the washroom across the hall. Maybe a day later. It’s hard to say how many times the sun has risen and fallen behind the mountains. The clock face stares back at you uncomprehendingly. 

Come drips out of you onto the floor. Thick droplets run down your inner thighs. John is still sleeping in the bed where you left him, snoring like a chainsaw. It must’ve been what woke you up. There’s no way of knowing how long it’s been since he first brought you home, since he left a mess in your pussy, which is still puffy and sore from rough use. You walk with halting little steps to try to minimize the ache. 

You stare bleary-eyed around the room. It feels somehow different than the previous times John’s had you over; there are more throws and blankets draped over the couch, candles scattered around the living room with a lighter on the mantle. 

There’s a fire roaring in the fireplace, blanketing the house in a layer of warmth. It makes you sluggish, stumbling forward only a handful of steps before the shaggy rug in front of the fire drags you back down to the floor. 

“What’re you doing out of bed, pretty girl?” someone rumbles from behind you. 

“Had t’pee,” you say, blinking. You try to rub the sleep out of your eyes unsuccessfully. “Why’m’I still so tired? It’s been…I slept so long…”

“C’mon, honey,” John says, coming up behind you and curling his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Told you it was gonna be a long winter. Maybe just one more and then somethin’ to eat, okay?”

It’s easy to sink to the floor, so easy. Especially with the fluffy rug under your feet. Especially with the fireplace toasting you from the outside in, the tinder crackling in the hearth. Everything in the house is dark and warm, only the fire giving you any light at all. Outside the window, the moon is still heavy in the sky. 

Something about the humidity of the den makes you suddenly so tired, boneless, pliable when he goes to move you, when John curves himself around you in the furs and reaches down to slide a hand between your thighs. 

He grunts when he finds you wet and wanting, sinking a couple fingers in and palming your clit. He doesn’t talk much still, but he says good girl when he cants your hips and slowly stretches you out on his cock. Feeds it into you achingly slow, like molasses. Like nothing’s due for another few months, so why rush it? He’ll take his time so you’re nice and happy and sweet come spring for cubs.

You’re not sure what that means. The pace is slow and deep, like before but less intentional. Like he just wants to savour the warmth of your body. 

When he finally comes deep inside you, your body goes limp, collapsing in a heap onto the rug. You expect John to pull out and turn over, maybe pull you onto his chest so you have somewhere to rest. Instead, he sighs all tired and content, and stays in you, still plugged up in your cunt, his spend only just starting to leak out into a pool beneath you. 

“Are we gonna eat?” you mumble, already half-asleep.

Somewhere behind you, he laughs; it’s soft like a snowfall in winter. “Yeah, honey. After a nap, we can eat.”

[snaileer]

Wrong Number? Wrong Answer.

It was the usual deal that the Justice League Dark dealt with… way too often honestly.

Initially, it had been just Wonder Woman, investigating a cult that had attempted to abduct her earlier in the month.

Diana had defeated them. Easily. Of course. But upon questioning them, their reasoning had concerned her.

They had attacked her for a ritual to open the ‘Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep’, a ritual which required ‘a blade blackened by the ichor of time.’

Once again, she was being targeted for her parentage. Did it ever end?

Of course, she questioned them further, what other ingredients did they need, what artifacts they would be hurting others to create.

A ring carved from the bone of an unfreed slave.

A crown made of lava untouched by human hands.

And sand directly from the pouch of Dream of the Endless themself.

It was an eclectic collection of items.

And yet, they had told her that only the blade remained to be created.

Again, it was concerning.

So Diana left the fools to be taken care of by men’s authorities, and focused on tracking down just what they were doing and if necessary, how to stop it.

After depleting her academic resources, and her connections within with nothing to show, Diana finally called in her friend through the league, Zatanna.

Zatanna had been frazzled by it, showing up in her living room before they’d even finished the call.

Together they tracked down the cult to Gotham… which was also a problem.

It was the reason why Diana was running through the caves beneath the crime ridden city with one of her closest friends in men’s world and a magician by her side.

All too quickly, they were surrounded by fanatics, each carrying sharp blades solely focused on her.

Working in sync with Batman and Zatanna throwing spells above them, Diana believed it would be a well-won battle.

Until a golden light flashed across the cave, blinding her for a precious second as she felt a sharp sting cut across her arm.

When her vision cleared, her arm was dripping blood and John Constantine stood in front of her.

“Sorry about that, love,” Constantine smirks, “No harm done?”

Diana’s teeth grind together as she turns away from him, fighting her way through more followers. The one who had injured her is nowhere to be seen, and the blade with them.

Even once the rest of the swarm is beaten, their numbers no longer being replenished, Diana does not feel content. The sense of danger lingers.

“Constantine.” Batman growls, “What are you doing in Gotham?”

The Brit rolls his eyes as he lights a new cigarette, “You know I don’t actually have to tell you every time I enter the city right? But besides, that’s news to me, portals are a tricky business, I’m tracking my own problem.”

Batman glares at him.

“Someone stole from me mate. And whatever they stole it for can’t be good, so I’m here ta get it back. Thought you’d be proud of something like that, Batsy, insteada leavin’ it for someone else?”

Batman’s eyes darken, “We’re tracking a group trying to open the Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep, is your artifact related to that?”

“Fucking shit it is yeah! Bollocks I didn’t think they’d be using the dream sand for something like that, what sort of mannies are these?!” Constantine exclaims, hastily grinding his cigarette beneath his shoe.

“Hn.”

Suddenly, there’s a rattling boom, the ground and walls shaking around them as dust rains down and they are all forced into stabilizing stances.

They barely share a glance before all three are running down the hall to the source, Constantine left scrambling to keep up.

The scene they come to is equal parts confusing as it is problematic.

The cultists are each in states of disrepair, crusting on the edges or yelling at their leader. The leader is the first to notice their arrival.

“You! You say you are a child of Zeus and yet your blood does not work! You lie of your ancestry!”

Diana steps forward, “I do not! I am the daughter of Queen Hippolyta and Zeus, grandchild of Kronos! The fault of your magic does not lie with me!”

The leaders face twists, mouth open to shout, but a flash of gold slams into him.

“Z, the book!” Constantine yells, arms outstretched as he flings more spells at the surrounding people, glowing ropes binding each.

“On it! Etativel em dna eht koob!” Zatanna shouts, lifting into the air as a book the leader had been holding flies into her hands.

Immediately she begins turning pages with desperation, “Wohs em eht stsitluc lleps!”

The book flips to a distinct page, and Zatanna’s face drains of color.

“Batman, we need to be careful, this spell looks legitimate, we might still have a risk on our hands.”

Batman hummed, looking at the chalk lines of the summoning circle drawn out before them, drawing Diana to do the same. Looking closely at the artifacts placed at each cardinal direction, including a short dagger with her blood nearly completely dry on the flat of the blade.

Batman moves towards the gathered and bound cultists as both magicians whisper over the spell.

Diana continues to look out on the evidence of the ritual, confusion warring in her.

She lays a hand on the lasso at her side. She knew she had not been lying about her heritage, so then why….

‘A blade blackened by the ichor of time.’

She looks at the bloodied dagger once more. It didn’t make sense, even if they had managed to harm a godly descendent, pure ichor would be gold; and even her blood was simply a humanly deep crimson red, not black; not until it-

Diana lunges towards the knife, fingertips brushing its hilt just as her blood dries a flaky black.

Her body slams into the cave walls in the next second, percussive force rippling through the air.

She crumples to the ground, struggling to lift her head.

White boots pass in front of her eyes.

She watches as they move towards her colleague, her friend, only to be surprised as they stop in front of the cultists instead.

As the air returns to her body, Diana lifts herself up, shaking arms supporting her as the weight of the atmosphere presses down.

She looks at the being, the sight almost making her collapse once more.

Mist curls around its form like a mountain peak, iridescent light glowing near its head, pitch black night covering its body, the pinprick of stars so small you can’t see them straight on, claws like a falcon’s beak: unhidden and meant to tear apart. And more importantly, wrapped around the leaders neck.

““̵̨̮̣̀͊̓Y̷͖̊̒o̸̤͈͍͌̈́͘u̶̗̭̲̍ ̵̬̤̞̀̑ā̴̟r̸̹̝̉e̴̞̦̮͑̍ ̴̣̩̖͑̓͛a̷̮̞͍͊͆͝ ̶͍̀̈́́f̷̖̄ò̸͈̓͝ǫ̷̅̀̔l̶̹̥̹̋͌͠.̴̤̲̈́͋̀”̶̛̫̺̈́”

The voice rattles her heart within her chest. She watches as Batman continues to try and stand.

The cultist struggles against the hand, mumbling screams behind Constantine’s bind. The creature tears it off with one claw.

“We summ-moned-… the king! Pa-pariah-!“

The creatures hand barely twitches, but the cultist breaks off in a scream. She is surprised to note the other cultists react exactly alike. As if linked.

“̵̻͝Ý̷͚o̶͈͝u̷̦̐ ̶̆͜d̶͈̄ǐ̸̢d̵̲̓ ̴͖̽n̴̘̅ȯ̸͍t̵̛̯ ̴̫̐ŝ̵̗u̴̹̇m̶̨͠m̴̡̽o̴̱̐n̵̘͝ ̴̪̈h̴̨̀i̶͝ͅm̸̰͗.̴͍͆”̸͔̔ The creature growls, “À̴̳n̸̛̜d̶͒ͅ ̴̤̃y̸̬͝ǫ̸̒u̵̫͗ ̶̘͛a̴̫̐r̷̠̈e̶͂ͅ ̶͔̋ḽ̶̔ủ̷͜c̷̥̍k̴̲͊ÿ̸̯́ ̶͓́f̷͇͝o̷͎͒ŕ̴͇ ̶͔͝t̶̞̀h̸̲̉ȧ̸̮t̷̩͝.̷͔̍ ̵͙͐I̸͎͌f̶͖͛ ̶̜̇y̵̜͗o̴̩̍ṵ̶͆ ̵̫̈́h̴͛ͅā̴̼d̸̤͆…̵͍̈́i̵͍̐t̸̡̉ ̴̭͂w̷̥̔o̷̟̅u̴̪͂l̸̞̏d̵͚̀ ̵͓̃b̴̢̽e̵̗͠ ̸͕̉m̸̠͆u̶̖͘c̷̯͘h̴̤̎ ̸̥́w̷͚͝o̸͐ͅr̶̦͐s̵̨̿e̸͕͆ ̸̙̑f̴̧̂o̶̱̓ȓ̷̟ ̴̠͗ÿ̸̥́ö̵͜ŭ̶̟.̵͎̉”̶͍̀

The man whimpers under the claws.

"I̴n̷s̵t̴e̷a̵d̸,̶ ̵y̸o̷u̵ ̴g̵o̷t̶ ̷m̸e̸,̴I̴ ̶g̵u̸a̷r̶d̴ ̶h̶i̷s̵ ̶p̸r̸i̵s̵o̵n̶ ̶b̶e̷c̴a̷u̴s̶e̸ ̵I w̴a̸s̴ ̵t̴h̸e̷ ̸o̴n̸e̴ ̷t̸o̶ ̶p̵u̴t̵ ̴h̸i̴m̶ ̵t̴h̷e̸r̶e̴ ̵o̶n̵c̸e̵ ̶m̶o̸r̸e̸.̵”̴ The creature leans into the cultist, arching ever higher, angles sharpening, body distorting, "“̸̝͋a̵̱͋n̶͓͛d̵̘́ ̵̡̍f̷̱͊o̵͚̓r̷̪̎ ̴̭̑a̷̬̓s̷͙̅ ̷͍͌ĺ̵̫o̸̻͆ņ̵̀g̶̚ͅ ̷̬͌a̶̮̿s̵̩͊ ̸̫̌t̸̲̕h̸̢̉e̷̖͗ ̴̰̋c̸̹̀ȍ̸͎s̷̡̃m̵̥̍o̷̜͋s̷̗͐ ̴̜͆e̷̛̙x̸͓̑i̶͉̿s̸̹̀t̵̛̺,̴̡͠Í̷̢ ̷̣̽w̵̠͋i̶̺͒l̴̠͐l̸̮̃ ̴͍͌k̴̰̑e̸̠͐e̷̟͋p̵̲̏ ̸̙̂h̷̘͋ị̸́m̸͕̚ ̶̳̋t̶̡̒h̷̩͆e̷̪͝r̷̒͜e̵̡̔.̵̭͗”̵̮̔

There’s a dull flash as light flashes beneath the cultists skin, beneath all of the cultist’s skin, before they drop to the ground unconscious.

All too quickly, air returns to the room, pressure lifting like a deep breath into the room.

The creature turns, eyes meeting Diana’s for just a second as he turns towards the chalked lines of the circle. Diana lifts herself to her feet, drawing closer to Batman as they both watch him, hesitant.

On the other side of the room, Constantine and Zatanna also struggle to their feet, eyes filled with fear and caution as they take in the scene.

As the creature moves, mist still rolling off him in waves, his features fall away with it, gradually smoothing to a more human visage. It looks… young. Boyish.

Those same white boots crush down on the formed crown, the cooled lava rock crumbling under one step. Next is the ring, held carefully in two hands the creature whispers over it, breathy wind carrying it away as it turns to dust. He holds the blade with one hand, flakes disintegrating off as he lifts it.

Diana’s arm tingles.

Then the creature is standing in front of the last point, holding the small brown pouch of sand with consideration.

Silence reigns in the room.

Constantine, of course, is the one to break it.

“I believe that’s mine, mate,” he cuts in, stance still laden with suspicion.

“Oh?” The creature smiles, almost mockingly as he turns to Constantine, “Is it? If I wasn’t mistaken, this ritual calls for Dream’s sand. Are you Dream of the Endless, little magician?”

Constantine visibly swallows, “I’m not.”

The creature huffs a laugh, fangs glinting in his smirk. He moves swiftly, pivoting on one foot to toss the pouch at Constantine, “Catch.”

Constantine lurches forward to try and catch it, only to find it vanish in the air before it reaches his fingers.

The creature cackles, floating backwards, “What did you do to get your hands on such an amount of Dream’s sand, magician? I’m curious.”

“It was a family present,” Constantine grinds out as he turns back to the gently levitating humanoid form, “You can drop the kid facade by the way, you’re not tricking anyone here looking like that.”

The creature shrugs, “And if I’m comfortable like this?”

Diana steps in to stop Constantine from snapping back, “Who are you, spirit, to be summoned by such a ritual?”

The creature watches her for a beat, “I am Phantom of the Dead City, Protector of infinite realms. They did not bring me here, but I knew who they wished to summon and came because of it.”

Batman steps forward, voice interrogating, “The Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep-“

“Remains sealed. The Tyrant King remains trapped and at rest, do not worry.”

Somehow Diana does not think that soothes Batman, even as a great a warrior as he is.

“Hn.”

“Now, about that spell book,” Phantom turns to Zatanna, waving a hand and the book flies to him. He hovers a hand over it, and Diana watches in fascination as the chalk on the floor begins to burn away, the drawing in the book following.

Phantom looks at her once more, eyes too wise and strong for the age of his face, and then from one moment to the next, he is gone.

The book drops to the floor with a slam, cover open to aged blank pages as the last of the sigil burns away.

Hesitantly, Constantine goes to it, the rest of them following. When Constantine lifts the book with careful hands, they watch another image fade into view on the paper.

A cool colored image of Phantom rising over a city skyline outlined in green against a deep violet sky. Even on paper, his visage shifts constantly between the boyish figure and the ethereal danger of the form he’d appeared in.

Beneath the city lays a large coffin covered in chains.

The lock glows a pulsing toxic green before fading to a steely gunmetal grey and going still.

“Well that was the best encounter I’ve had with a dangerous dimensional figure and I still lost the dream sand.”

Zatanna’s slap echoes in the cave.

[jinxificada]

stress to relieve, need to fulfill.

jinx x fem!reader

summary: what’s there to do when your friend keeps pushing your boundaries after a long, tiring week? only wrong answers.

notes: nsfw, modern au. jinx and reader smokes both nicotine and weed. stoner reader. high sex. u know mee, self indulgent asf. if you see first person pronouns, no you didn’t. 2,8k wc.

ཻུ۪۪ ༄࿐༉⁎ ⁺

you see her leaning against the railing, shoulders pushed behind and back straight, smiling smugly and flirty as her head tilted to the side.

isn’t she stunning? breathtaking?

but all that attitude was directed to ekko, who had her almost trapped as both of his hands also rested on the railing, each one next to her waist.

“jinx, hurry!” you groaned from your spot on the sidewalk, throwing your head back in annoyance. you had finished your cigarette two minutes ago, growing impatient by the second.

the wind brushes against her hair and she tucks a piece behind her ear. god, the way ekko’s body towers over hers makes you want to be sick. it's a disgusting feeling, seeing her flirting so easily.

"I'm comiiiiing!" she calls out in annoyance, ekko lets out a light chuckled as she brushes past him with a playful roll of her eyes. she always knows how to make those boys crazy. "jesus, did I take that long? you’re so impatient." she teased, stopping right in front of you and resting a hand on her hip.

you rolled your eyes, lighting another cigarette. “yes, i wanna get home already.”

"geez, impatient and bitchy today." she muttered under her breath, smirking as you both started to walk, she kept in stride beside you, occasionally bumping your shoulders together. she could see the agitation in your eyes, even as you refused to look at her. It was honestly comical.

you were looking forward to today for two weeks now. finals were done, you had only another week of pointless classes before graduating and leaving this shitty town behind. the smoke session was very much needed, and luckily you had the house all to yourself.

"don’t worry." she teased after a moment. "no more ekko attention. i’m all yours today, you needy baby." she pinched your cheek, causing you to gently slap her hand away, huffing at her mocking. “i swear to god— i’ve had a stressful week, jinx, i don’t know where you get all that energy from.” you mumbled, handing her the cig. "stressful week, or you just need to get laid?" jinx joked, her eyes sparkled in a playful mischief as she took the cigarette and raised it to her lips, taking a short puff before exhaling the smoke through her lips.

she was clearly enjoying her teasing, and your grumpy face only encouraged her. "ohhh, your poor baby." she stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. “knock it off,” you muttered, though you wrapped an arm around her shoulders as you grab the cig back, taking a long drag.

jinx chuckled, clearly pleased with herself as she leaned into you. the cigarette continued to pass between you, her body was soft against yours.

"you are adorable when you're all grumpy and pouty." she teased, running her other hand through your hair. she turned her head slightly to the side and nipped at your earlobe, an amused huff escaping her lips, her breath against your ear was driving me insane. “i want to see how far this pouty mood goes." she whispered before pressing a kiss just below your ear.

“jinx—“ you gasped, trying to hide your blush. “we’re passing by a playground.”

"and?" she laughed, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at her. she feigned an innocent pout, her bottom lip slightly jutting out. "no one is around. we’re the only ones walking."

you look down at her mouth, your own watering at the thought of nibbling her pouty lip. would she yelp? sigh? would she flinch away or kiss you back?

you and jinx were friends, strictly. for years now. she was flirty, always pushing boundaries but then she would play dumb, as if leading people on was her favorite hobby. and you had a big fat crush on her. that’s why you didn’t want to risk it.

so you ended up pinching her nose and continuing walking, finishing the cigarette.

she let out a small squeak, a pout returning to her lips. she gently punched your shoulder in retaliation before sticking out her tongue. “mean." she teased, her arm still wrapped around your waist as you continued to walk. "you’re no fun today."

“i’ll let you choose the movie.” you say as if to apologize, pulling her into that side hug you were locked in previously.

soon enough you reach to your house, she settles on the couch and scrolls through the streaming services to find something to watch as you get the snacks you bought days before, quickly going back to bump your hips against hers to make space for you to sit down.

she smirked at the pile of snacks you had set down on the coffee table. "geez, you really went all out for our movie night, didn't you?"

you shrugged, a small smile appearing on your face. you weren’t about to admit that you picked out her favorites purposefully. “mhm… did you choose something yet?”

jinx looked down from the screen and watched as you began to roll the blunt, the sight bringing a smirk to her face. "hmm, not yet," she said. "nothing looks interesting enough."

“don’t be picky, we’ll be way too out of it to care about it.” you chuckled. "you’re right, the plot won't even make sense to us anyway." she huffed a chuckle.

her eyes tracing the movements of your hands, continuing to watch you finish rolling the blunt, "hurry upppp," she whined, poking your thigh impatiently. "i wanna get high already."

a small chuckle left your mouth, amused by her eagerness. “here,” you hand her the blunt and light it up for her. "finally…" she groaned happily, bringing the joint to her lips and taking a deep inhale.

holding the smoke in her lungs for a few moments, she exhaled slowly before turning to smirk at me.

"your turn, slowpoke.”

"I was taking my time, you impatient brat." you brought the joint to your lips and inhaled a deep puff, the taste of herbs filling your mouth, you felt your entire body release tension already.

you exhaled slowly, the familiar feeling of relaxation settling in your bones. as you passed the joint back to her, your eyes flicked toward jinx, who was already looking at you, eyes already a little dazed, her smirk was lazy and her cheeks a hint of pink as the weed started to cloud your minds.

"you look wrecked already.” you teased, poking her shoulder. she let out a small huff and rolled her eyes before taking another deep drag of the blunt.

"says the one who practically moans every time they get high."

your face flushed with embarrassment at her words. "I do not moan every time." you protested, although you couldn't keep the chuckle out of your voice. jinx let out a scoff, amused by your denial. "please, i’ve seen you high enough times to know you're a total needy whiner when stoned." she teased, taking another drag of the joint as her eyes scanned up and down your body.

her gaze felt like a physical touch, you were growing warmer as you forced yourself to look away. "I am not a needy whiner when stoned."

half an hour later the weed had fully settled into your systems. you barely paid attention to the movie playing, the only thing on your mind was her body pressed against yours, the warmth of it making you want to melt against her.

she was leaning into you, her head resting on your shoulder as she laughed at the crappy jokes, completely oblivious to the effect she was having on you.

you felt dizzy, shifting to nuzzle your nose into the crook of her neck. “i love this perfume,” you slurred quietly, making her smile and huff amusedly. "i know, you say that every time I wear it." she said, lifting a hand to play with a strand of your hair. you hummed, taking in the sweet smell of her perfume, it was intoxicating.

"It's so good,” you mumbled, nuzzling further into her neck, inhaling deeply.

jinx chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. her fingers traced lightly down you jaw before they reached your chin and gently forced you to look at her.

"how high are you, pretty baby?" she teased, her voice lower now as her fingers continued to explore your face. you looked up at her, eyes glassy and unfocused. it was hard to concentrate on anything other than the way her fingers felt against your skin. “very," you mumbled, the words slurring in your mouth. "very high. i feel kinda floaty."

jinx’s eyes darkened, the gleam of mischief appearing in them. "you are so high." she teased, her thumb tracing your bottom lip. “just how i like you."

you hummed faintly, pretending to bite on her finger. jinx let out a low, dark chuckle, her thumb now pressing against your tongue. "naughty girl."

her words sent a shiver down your spine, your heart raced in your chest. the way she was looking at you sent waves of heat through your body.

your lips closed around her finger, a low whimper vibrating down your throat at the sensation, soon suctioning without breaking eye contact. her eyes darkened even further, the sound of your whimper making her breath hitch. a low, primal sound left her lips as her gaze fixated on your.

"you’re getting bold, baby," she purred, her thumb pushing further into your mouth. you hummed around her finger, the feeling making your head spin even further. the combination of the weed and her scent was overwhelming, it was turning your brain to mush. your eyes fluttered, your tongue swirling around her thumb. you didn’t know where this audacity was coming from, but it just felt so good.

jinx chuckled darkly, her eyes scanning your face as her thumb gently caressed your lips. "you just can't help yourself, can you?" her tone was low and teasing, but you could hear the hint of restraint in it. “so needy…"

you gently pulled away from her thumb, a trail of saliva connecting both of you. her gaze darkened even further at the sight, her eyes scanning over your face with a mix of hunger and restraint. her breath hitched as your lips touched her jaw. she tilted her head to the side, exposing more of her skin to your mouth.

“you’re being such a good girl for me right now." she whispered, her free hand finding the nape of your neck. her words causing a shiver run down your spine, eagerly pushing her down to lay on her back as you kept savoring her skin, her body laid beneath yours without resistance.

she hummed, her hand in your hair. she gently tugged on the strands. you were too focused to respond to her teasing. she tilted her head back as your lips traveled down her neck, hands roaming around her form shamelessly. she felt warm beneath your body, your fingertips sneaking down her shirt and feeling her smooth skin. her pulse quickened under your lips as your body pressed flush against her. a moan left her throat, her grip on your hair tightening. her hips bucked against yours, the movement was subtle but definitely deliberate. you were doing such a good job at working her up.

jinx’s breath hitched as your fingers moved to the buttons of her jeans, the action seeming to catch her off guard. she wasn’t complaining, but she wasn’t expecting it. “you’re getting awfully handsy,” she rasped.

“i just wanna taste you…” you almost whined into her neck, too drunk with desire to stop and question your own actions.

“taste me, huh?” jinx chuckled, her hand in your hair gripping harder. her voice was still teasing but now laced with a hint of lust. “can you even handle it, pretty baby?”

you looked up at her, eyes glassy and lips slightly swollen. you knew you looked wrecked right now, a needy mess of a girl yearning for more. but you didn’t care.

"i can handle it." you huffed, your fingers struggling a bit with the last button. "i need to taste you, please.”

you couldn’t handle it.

your fuzzy senses made you move sloppily, munching on her pussy like she was your last meal, muffling your whimpers and moans against her as you humped the edge of the couch like a dog in heat. the way you lapped her folds made her groan loudly, rocking her hips against your face and pulling your hair aggressively.

“so pathetic,” she chuckled hoarsely, the view of you between her legs was making it hard for her to keep her composure. “you’re so desperate for me, such a needy—“ pathetic girl she was about to say, but the words dissolved in her throat as a loud moan escaped her lips when you sucked hard on her clit. she tightened her grip on your hair, guiding your movements. “hmmyeah…that’s it. good girl.”

your heart raced at the praise, she was intoxicating. a goddess you’d want to live and die for, to go against your own convictions just for a little bit of her.

her thighs closed around your head, holding you in place as you continued to slurp her fluids. the sounds and smell of sex will definitely linger in the fabric of the sofa, yet again, that was the last of your concerns. in fact, who says you won’t be sniffing on it days later just hoping to catch a taste of her again.

her moans rasped her throat, getting impossibly louder as she edged her high. her legs around my head was making you feel dizzy, the taste of her on your tongue, her noises in your ear, her scent in your nose. it was like your own version of heaven.

she was gripping your hair so hard it was almost painful, but you didn't mind. you wanted to hear her come undone, “please," you whimpered, barely able to get the word out. you kept begging between sloppy kisses on her folds. “please, please, please..let me make you come, please.” you whined desperately.

she pulled at your hair to meet your eyes, both of you had them glossy, red and wide pupils. jinx bit her lip so hard that it drew blood at some point, staining her cracked lips in a dark red shade.

“you’re really gonna make me lose it.” she choked out.

your tongue was relentless, switching between pressing and swirling around her clit and pumping inside her hole, her creamy juices dripping down your chin. “please cum, i wanna taste you, hm, jinx,” the words fell out of your mouth like a prayer, you hands gripping her thighs to the point of leaving marks on her pale skin.

“can’t— don’t stop!” she trembled, babbling and babbling incoherences, “i-i’m—“ a loud, guttural moan broke her sentence. her slim body tensed up before quivering and eyes shut as she rode out her peak. she was mesmerizing, you couldn’t stop even when your jaw was aching so bad. “f-fuck, stop, stop.” she pleaded, flinching away from your greedy mouth.

the intensity left you both panting heavily, she covered her face with her forearm and you shifted to rest on her stomach, fingertip drawing random patterns over her cloudy tattoos. jinx was wrecked, trying to even her breath.

“c’mere.” she mumbled, petting your head with her free hand. she doesn’t have to ask twice for you to crawl up to her, resting your head on her chest. youf mind was still dizzy from everything that just happened.

she was running her hand through your hair, when she broke the silence "you’re such a good girl," she murmured, her voice hoarse.

heat rushed to your face at her words. even just her voice sounded wrecked, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at knowing you were the one who did that to her.

you nuzzled yourself further into her chest, your body was starting to feel heavy. she chuckled faintly, her hand still running through your hair. "and now you're a sleepy, stoned mess."

after a beat, she added, "not that that's any differently from how you usually are, though."

“stop babbling,” you mumbled, pecking the top of her breast. “let’s nap.” she groaned softly, shifting slightly to fix her underwear and lay comfortably. “you’re still no fun.” she murmured, cuddling you back.

bonus !

having jinx on your lap as you hung out with the group wasn’t something new. but only a fool wouldn’t realize the change of dynamic between you and her. as one of your hands was busy holding your drink, the other gripped possessively to her hip, pulling her back in place whenever she slipped for squirming too much, babygirl couldn’t sit still as she told her fabulous stories.

“jinx,” ekko’s voice interrupted as he approached with a confident smile. “i have a blunt to share, ya wanna head upstairs?”

“oop— nah, thanks man.” she chuckled, leaning back against your chest as she held your hand to her stomach. “i only smoke my girlfriend’s weed.”

[joelmillerisapunk]

Vicious

Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist ★ Wordcount: 1.8k

📽 —★ Summary: In the quiet solitude of your own home, you revel in the rare freedom of an empty house, indulging in forbidden pleasures on a hot summer day. The unexpected arrival of your dads buddy Joel turns your casual rebellion into something far more thrilling.

📽 —★ Warnings: 18+, mdni, reader is in college but is called a "school girl", wears a uniform that has a skirt. Joel and reader are both kinda assholes to each other. Mentions of smoking cigarettes and drinking beer, age gap (reader is early 20's, Joel is whatever you would like but in my mind 40's or older) p in v, uses of slut and whore, in this world and my daydreams Joel is able to get off multiple times without a break (I am not going for supreme accuracy I am going for porn), if I missed anything please let me know

📽 —★ Notes: Hello, welcome to my comeback fic. Please note that I am very rusty since posting my last fic in July 🫠 but I am very excited to be back writing, reading and posting once again! I hope you enjoy. I've missed being here with all you lovely humans so much 🥹

📽 —★ A big thank you to my wonderful friends for reading/hyping me: @milla-frenchy @evolnoomym @thundermartini and @syd-djarin who also helped me with the mood board 💋 love you all so much. And of course @saradika-graphics for the lovely divider

“I’m home!” you shout the second you walk in the door. Dead silent, no response. You shrug as you make your way to your room but pause halfway up the stairs. No one. That means you can do whatever the hell you want. You walk back down, throwing your backpack to the floor an head to the kitchen, grabbing one of your dad's beers from the fridge, taking it out to the deck. You retrieve your hidden cigarette pack taped beneath the table outside. You grab a cigarette and light it up as you lean back in the chair, opening your legs until your feet rest on either side of the lawnchair. After a stressful day at school, you need some kind of relief. Plus, your schoolgirl uniform is much too uncomfortable on a hot summer day, causing you to undo the top few buttons of your white blouse, allowing the small but cool breeze to graze your exposed skin.

“I always thought you were a bit of a slut.”

You look up to see your dad’s buddy Joel leaning in the doorway, a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth as well. Instead of jumping up, snapping your legs shut, or covering your chest, you give him the finger. That guy can go fuck himself.

“And so polite too.”

“Joel, the last thing I need right now is you and your opinion. School sucked, and I don’t give a shit what you think of me.”

“Christ, kid, I was only fucking with you. I mean, you do look trashy as hell, but that’s okay. I like trashy.”

“Are you hitting on me now? Really? You’re like seventy.”

“Try again sweetheart,” he says, stepping out onto the deck. You try to ignore him as he walks closer until he stops directly in front of you.

“You like the view, asshole?”

“I don’t know,” he says, leaning down and tilting his head. “I wouldn’t have guessed white. I mean, you don’t seem like the innocent type. More like a black satin sort of girl.”

“Oh, don’t you know?” you reply, taking a drag from your cigarette. “We have to wear white panties too. They check us every morning. We line up in a row, and they make us lift our skirts so they can see what we have on under them.”

“I’ll have to see if they have any openings. Sounds like a good job.”

“Oh fuck you. Besides, you wouldn’t know what to do with one of us, let alone three hundred.”

The bastard sinks down until he’s squatting in front of your now wet panties, still smoking as he admires the view. You finally reach down, open your legs wider, and give him the finger with your hand right in front of your cunt. If he wants to look, he can fucking look at that.

“If you didn’t want me, you’d be in the house already instead of sitting there with those pretty legs open.”

“Is that what you think?” you ask, trembling in spite of yourself. He’s a huge dick, but he’s also right. You do like teasing him, and the thought of him going home and jerking off over you is fun.

“I know it,” he says, sitting down at the bottom of the chair.

“And what would you do with a girl like me? I’ve probably had more sex than you’ll ever have. Better sex too.”

“What, with some stupid school boy who fucks like a jackhammer, hoping he’s found the right hole?”

You look at him, rolling your eyes and shaking your head before butting your cigarette.

“Why don’tcha unbutton that shirt some more? Let me see how you’ve filled out.”

“Jesus Christ. What do you think my dad would say if he saw you eyeing his daughter up and down like a piece of meat?”

“What do you think he’d do if he saw you sitting here spread eagle, smoking a cigarette and drinking his beer? His sweet little angel, showin’ off for his friend?" he responds playfully, raising his eyebrows.

You sit up in the chair, never breaking his gaze as you undo the next two buttons of your blouse, revealing your naked chest.

“You’re not going to do a thing,” you say, reaching down and opening your shirt just enough for him to get a glimpse. “You’re going to sit there and drool over my body.”

“Is that whatcha think?” he chuckles. “What's actually going to happen is that I'm going to bend you over and fuck you until you cry.”

“You’d probably come the second you got a glimpse of my pussy. I bet you’re so hard right now you can barely think."

“Try me,” he says, moving up between your legs. His hand now under your skirt.

“Let go and I’ll show you,” you say, your voice nearly catching in your throat. He moves his hand in an instant. You reach down, gently touching the lips around your clit through the thin white fabric. Joel watches the entire time, never taking his eyes off of your hand. “Is this what you want?” you say, pulling the white cotton to one side, exposing your pussy to his greedy eyes.

“It’s a start,” he replies as he moves closer. He lifts your legs up over his knees. You are silent as he unzips his pants, and as much as you try not to watch, you can’t help yourself. He reaches in, and in one fluid motion, his cock juts out of his boxers.

“Jesus,” you say as he begins to stroke himself slowly. He’s only partially hard, but his cock is big and thick, and you are on dangerous ground.

“Just like those high school boys?” he asks, reaching out, grabbing you around the waist. Before you can protest, he pulls you up onto his lap, his hard cock stuck between your pussy and his stomach. His other hand joins the first until his fingers dig into the cheeks of your ass. His face is inches from you.

“You don’t have the nerve,” you say, not willing to look away.

Joel wastes no time as he tears your blouse open, the last remaining buttons flying off as he pulls it down over your shoulders, your bare breasts now fully visible. He tugs it down even further until it slides off your arms, leaving you topless.

“I’m going to fuck you, baby. I’m going to push those panties to one side, shove my big cock in you, and then listen to you scream.”

“I’ll tell my dad,” you whisper.

“No you won’t,” he says, sliding his hand all the way beneath you. As he holds you tight, he slips his fingers beneath your panties and then inside your now soaking wet pussy, working them in and out for a few seconds before bringing his hand up to your mouth and pushing his fingers between your lips. You gladly lick your excitement off his thick digits, feeling his large cock grow against you.

“You’re going to come in seconds," you whisper. “If you even make it inside me. You have no idea how sweet my little cunt is."

“Guess we’ll have to find out. But first, let’s see if you’re right, or if you’re just a filthy little slut who needs another dick.”

Before you can think of a response, he lifts you up, pushing your panties to one side, and then guides his large cock into you. In one swift motion, he’s deep inside of you, and you are on his lap. You try to suppress a moan as he pulls you closer.

“You knew this was going to happen the second you saw me. And so did I,” he adds.

He begins to move slowly, feeling him slide in and out of you each time you tighten your grip. Fuck, he feels good; his cock hitting your walls in all the right places. It’s not fair.

“And you’re a whore,” he says, moving his mouth down your chin, making his way down your neck.

“You’re an asshole,” you mutter, causing him to thrust harder.

“Which is why you’re letting me fuck you.” His hands run through your hair, gripping it in his hand as he continues to fuck you. You moan louder, trying to hold back a scream as his fingers grip tighter and tighter around your hair. You can feel his balls throbbing against you as his breath quickens. You are on fire as his cock pumps into your wet, hot, sensitive pussy, causing both of you to groan loudly. You can tell he’s close to his own release; you can feel your pussy convulsing, and you start moving on him harder. He grabs your hips, holding you still as he pounds himself into you. His balls clench tight as he groans loudly in ecstasy, his breath harsh with lust. His climax soon follows after, rope after rope of hot liquid exploding inside of you. He stays buried inside of you as the orgasm takes over him completely. After a few moments of catching his breath, Joel looks at you and mutters between breaths, "Just because I came doesn’t mean I’m done with you.”

And then he pulls out of you, flipping you over, pushing you down onto the deck chair and your panties to the side so you can feel him against you, his cock still dripping. But then, somehow, he’s back inside of you, fucking you into the fabric of the chair. “You might be cute, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop.”

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, feeling his weight against you, pinning you down. When he reaches an arm around your neck, you begin to moan. Oh god, don’t stop Joel. Don’t stop fucking me; I’m gonna come.”

“That’s right, baby. Come for me. Come like the little slut you are.”

“Fuck!” you cry out, feeling yourself let go completely. You shake and tremble as you clench around him. His breath picks up as he’s close to his own orgasm.

“I’m going to come in this pussy one more time.”

“No!” you beg, needing to at least pretend to resist when in fact you don't want this to ever end. The thought of him coming in you again makes your pussy tighten in anticipation. Then finally, when it seems he won't ever come inside of you, he does. Your entire body begins trembling, fighting against another orgasm. As you feel him pull out of you, he turns you over, putting his hand in your panties and cupping your cheek. Your eyes open wide, and you can feel the warm liquid dripping from your thighs. He looks down at his own cock. It too has started to twitch.

“Look at the mess you made," he whispers, placing the tip of his cock into the wetness. "You'd better clean this up before someone sees. You're going to lick every drop,” he commands. You nod. "Good girl."

As you place kisses along his cock, licking away any remaining semen, Joel watches in amusement. You stand up, looking up at him.

“Are you satisfied?" you ask.

“For now," he smirks, turning towards the house. "See ya tomorrow." With that, he goes up the porch steps, his back to you and makes his way home, only to be back tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after.