#I’m not happy w this one but I’m just gonna post it anyway | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

macfrog · 9 months ago

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psyche and cupid | one shot

happy valentine's, beautiful people. i love you with all of my heart. xx shoutout to @familyvideostevie for putting joel's slutty little thigh holster into my head and, well. yeah. pairing: jackson!joel miller x fem!reader summary: valentine's day with joel doesn't go to plan. warnings: part two never happened!!!!! abby who!!!, established relationship, cursing, half joel pov, unspecified age gap, hints to reader having a sliver of ptsd, jesse is alive and well because he is my prince and i said so, reader has dark pubic hair, masturbation, somnophilia (not discussed in this fic but she is a-ok with it) and therefore dubcon, sprinkle of praise kink, oral (f!receiving), someone comes in his underwear, these two goofballs are big in love word count: 5.5k

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It’s not in his nightstand.

Not hung over the newel post, either.

He said he left it on the kitchen counter yesterday, right after he got home; said he woke up this morning and it was gone. And then he muttered something of an accusation that someone had tidied it away and forgotten where, and that started a whole new argument.

You know what, Joel? You’re following his tall figure as it sways down the hallway, his strides longer and considerably smoother than your flurrying shadow in his wake. Maybe if you weren’t going out today, we wouldn’t be having this problem.

His chin tilts upward, salt and pepper scruff angled to the ceiling with a ha slung from his throat. Yeah, he tosses a glance over his shoulder, we’d just be havin’ it tomorrow, instead.

You scoff in response, stepping where his boots lift off from, following the heavy thud thud thud like a cat at his heels until he’s rounding the corner towards your bedroom.

You pass over the messy trail of your jeans and Joel’s pajama bottoms, your underwear and his leading in a trail to the unmade bed – sheets like a rippled wave painted golden by the dawn.

The two of you split off – Joel lifts the cotton and watches it float back down over the flat of your mattress. Nothing.

You take the closet – the squeal of metal on metal harsh in your sleepy ears as you shove the hanging clothes aside, swiping around at the floor. Also, unsurprisingly, nothing.

Deflated, you straighten, stars peppering your vision and a tatty sleepshirt pinched in your fingers. Led Zeppelin – some band Joel was into before everything went to shit. You’ve listened to him out on the porch before, plucking strings in time with the record wobbling on the turntable inside.

The collar torn, sleeves pecked with holes, print lost to the years and the dryer – but each time you drape it over your shoulders, he smiles and hums some song from a world you’ll never know.

It’s sweet, when you’re in the mood to be wooed.

Which, incidentally, is not right fucking now.

His eyes flit down to the peeling, grayscale image – and that same smile attempts to bloom on his lips. That’s cute, but it ain’t my holster, pretty bird.

His smirk dampens quickly when he looks back up, snuffed by your stony expression.

You whip the tee down to the foot of the bed. You are a piece of fuckin’ work sometimes, do you know that? you growl, storming by him for the en suite.

Joel’s rough hand slips around your wrist, tugging gently but letting you drag him through to the bathroom.

Just go, Joel, you groan, the chill of the room prickling goosebumps on your naked legs. Give me some peace and quiet. ‘s not like I’m gonna be seein’ much of you today, anyways.

Is that what this is about? His voice echoes in the morning blue, round in your ears as you hang your head over the sink. Pickin’ a fight ‘cause you’re pissed I’m goin’ out?

I didn’t start the fight, you protest. You’re the one who lost his holster.

Didn’t lose it… he mumbles, lips closing around the sentence when he catches your glare in the mirror. He crosses one ankle over the other, toe of his dusty boot on the cracked tile, and sighs. What do you want me to do, baby? I gotta do my job.

On Valentine’s Day? When I worked extra to get it off, and you can’t even get your brother to swap one shift?

Joel’s expression seems to stiffen, tense with a realization that you know, and now he knows, too – he should’ve had days ago. A weighty breath falls from his nostrils, admitting some kind of defeat, and then he’s wandering carefully over to you, two hands curved over your shoulders.

He lowers his forehead onto the nape of your neck, a slow breath which flutters the loose collar of the flannel you’re wearing and sweeps down your spine. I’m sorry, pretty bird. I didn’t know it meant that much to ya.

It doesn’t, you admit, adding, usually. I just thought we could have a day to ourselves, for once.

He’s nodding, sweep of his fringe tickling the slope of your skin. It’d be a lot more romantic than spendin’ it with Jesse, that’s for sure.

Your bodies fall together with a shared laugh, a bright and charming thing in the dull bathroom light. Joel kisses the soft cushion of your shoulder and hooks his chin over, beard grazing your skin.

I’ll be back before you know it. ‘n then we can do whatever the hell you got planned for us, hm?

He’s steady behind you when you lean back, turning to place a damp kiss to the hinge of his jaw. A reply, a plea – a promise.

In the echoing dripdripdrip from the faucet, Joel pulls apart from you, two fingers pinching the hem of your shirt to pull you back into the bedroom.

You wanna walk me to the gate? he asks, pulling the zipper on his jacket.

What about your holster?

He smiles. I’m sure I’ll survive without it. C’mon. Put some pants on.

February is bitter even by Jackson’s standards – a bite of ice in the air which numbs the tip of your nose and stings the helix of your ears. The chill slips a long, sharp finger down the collar of your – Joel’s jacket, and you wrap the baggy canvas tighter around yourself.

Told you to wear som’ thicker. Joel sighs, grip light around the strap of his shotgun. His elbow nudges into yours, a wide arm wraps around your shoulder and draws you flush against his side. Head on back if you’re cold, he says, rubbing until the friction warms your upper arm.

I’m fine, you lie, eyeing the line of horses up ahead. The eager crunch of their hooves in the frozen ground, the pinkish light on their backs from the sky flooded crimson overhead – a warning from the horizon, you think.

It seems to agitate the animals as much as it does you, their heavy heads tossing nervously, ears flicking and inky eyes blinking.

Jesse meets you by the paddock, slipping Joel the reins of his horse with a curt nod, before hoisting himself atop his own.

It bleats from your lips before you can hold it back. Be careful.

Your frozen fingers claw around the zipper of his coat, tugging it upwards until it brushes against his bottom lip. The weather gets bad, you turn back. Okay?

He’s nodding, paying half his attention to your words, the other half to the little crease between your brows. Sure could use my holster against the cold, baby, he mutters, smirk lifting his cheeks and folding similar creases at the corners of his eyes.

Your eyes narrow, palms landing flat against his strong chest. Home soon?

He hums a little laugh, lips ghosting across your temple as he shifts by. Home soon, he mutters, breath steaming against your cold skin, and he leads the mare off towards the gate.

There’s a lot about Joel you admire.

Each part of him like a pebble stolen on a hike; some more jagged, a little more weathered than others, some well-rounded and smooth to the touch. Each one turned and turned and turned between your fingers until you’re fluent in every pore and vein, then dropped into your pocket alongside the others you’ve collected.

Clacking against one another until you arrive home, coat heavier with the happy burden of how much you love him. The same weight you feel behind your ribcage when you think too much about it.

He takes good care of you – has done since you first happened across one another. As if hanging his hunting jacket over your frail body was a wing over your shoulders; as if, from then on, you would never make a single move again without your grizzly bear of a man making it first.

Quiet about it, sure. Subtle. Opens the crook of his elbow for you to hook your wrist around as you wander through town together, and waits until you’re under the cover of nightfall or behind the close of your front door to do much else.

Asks with little more than a fleeting glance if you’re okay; a squeeze of your knee under the table in the dining hall. A conversation shared between closed lips and the meeting of his honey-flecked gaze, and yours. A language which lives and dies with the pair of you.

He’s guarded – and for all that he’s been through, you figure you can allow him that. Allow him his private peace. For all that he says without saying, all he does without making some big song and dance of it – there hasn’t been a second since you arrived here on the back of his horse, that you haven’t known he loves you.

It’s in him like it’s in you. A fever which broke at the first touch of his hand and yours, the first meeting of his warmth and your chill. Two opposites – cooling the painful sear in his heart, warming the barren frost in yours. Something sewn deep into your flesh, carved right through to the hollow of your bones.

And Jesus, if it doesn’t drive you fucking insane.

The front yard needs tidied up after winter, you notice, as you scuff your way up the path towards the porch. Once the last of the snow dries up, you two can get to repairing the damage done by the blizzards and the gales: fitting new shutters, planting new bulbs.

A cycle you’re still getting used to: the upkeep of a place called home. The strange feeling of having someone you call the same thing.

Your extra shifts at the stables and Joel’s long mornings out on the trails mean your home has gone neglected for a few days. Dishes and cutlery left in the sink, a pile of laundry slowly sprouting to new heights like a wild plant each time you cast a wary glance at it.

It’s not like you’ve much else to do, given Joel won’t be home for at least another couple hours. So you shuck off your jeans, letting the tail of his shirt dangle from your behind, and pick your way around each room – wiping counters and dusting corners, humming along to the crooning old records as they spin in the background.

Playing house at the end of the world. Pretending to listen for the tired exhale of a yellow school bus, mimicking the electrified babble of radio presenters between each track.

The bedroom is arguably the worst offender. Bedsheets used a few days too long, clothes strung across the floor – the relics of a late one at the Tipsy Bison. It’s no wonder you’re so fucking tired.

Echoes of stumbling footsteps and hushed, drunken giggles loop your ears, the groaning bedsprings and blunt thud of the headboard. You pluck the underwear and socks one by one, your body wincing around a satisfied ache still lingering, and shuffle over to the laundry hamper, lifting the lid to –

The dopey smile on your lips dissolves instantly. You gotta be fucking…

The buckle glints in the light, silver blinking up at you from its bed of dirty laundry. The tan strap coiled and neatly slung through its fastener; the pouch empty. Awkward and ashamed, lying there in front of you. Apologetic, almost.

Your eyes roll closed; a short, hot breath seeping past your lips. A silent promise embedding beneath your tongue to take him by the sleeve as soon as he crosses the threshold, force him to lift the lid himself. An I told you so already brewing in the pit of your stomach.

The holster’s actually pretty heavy when you lift it up in the light. Leather a little worn, stitching frayed where it should clip around his belt.

It’s the size and width of him: a thick, toned thigh slotted inside the loop of leather, fixed by fingers long void of feeling when he’s been riding to the outpost, chasing infected, plunging his knife deep into their necks.

Patrol was never your thing. Joel took you out just once – but there are cracks in your past which threaten to split you in two, it seems, the longer you spend outside the settlement walls. Phantoms which follow close behind in the form of snapping twigs, of the wind rustling in the trees overhead. Shadows living in your periphery with curled sneers and spits of filth.

You lasted twenty minutes, that first and only day, before Joel had your horses tied together and your body shelled in his own, taking you straight back home.

But the thought of this around his thigh, the thought of him adjusting it to the waistband of his jeans; his hand floating down to settle gently atop it when he’s listening for danger approaching, two fingers slipping into the trigger guard.

It…stirs something.

You pad over to the bathroom, hopping as you step into the strap. He wears it on his right leg, right? You pull it past your ankle, ball of your foot slamming clumsily back down on the tile.

Adjusting it to fit your thigh, you bunch the hem of his shirt in one fist and stare back at your reflection. Her nervous stance, hips swaying left to right as she peruses the figure opposite.

Who is she, this mirage – naked thigh decorated with her man’s leather, fingernails tracing the messy stitching and imagining the weight of his gun, keen in the pouch?

A strange aura of possession about it, like a part of him locked firm around a part of you, from however many miles away. You swear you can feel the ghost of his warmth on the inside of the strap, wrapped around your sensitive skin.

Yeah.

Stirs something, alright.

Joel’s been gone little over an hour. He’s probably at the outpost by now, logging All clear and pretending to let Jesse take the lead. Wide shoulders swaying as he wanders from room to room, a careful scope of the valley from each window, tongue tracing the bottom of his teeth.

Ridges of his knuckles white around the grip of his shotgun, squinting down the barrel. Lines drawn between his brows and at the corners of his eyes like scores on parchment, focus and concentration tight on his face.

You sink back into the cradle of your bed, that divot where his body and yours meet each night. Each part of you intertwining with a part of him: the place where you become one. His smell and your touch, your giggle and his teeth.

A sudden, powerful thing which hammers through your veins and jumps your body for a few seconds – you pull the first orgasm from between your legs within a matter of minutes. The sight of his shirt disturbed over your stomach, the feeling of blood squeezing past taut leather enough to throw you under by itself, never mind the fast snap of your fingers deep inside your body.

Another – slower, lazier, still vibrating from the first – then almost a third, but the crinkle of sheets at your ears, the pillow-soft landscape beneath your heavy body, begins to sweep you off somewhere.

And in as little time as it took to entice you into the water in the first place, you slip beneath the waves.

The house is quiet when he finally makes it home.

Jesus, Joel thinks, what a shift.

Not one infected the entire run, he can’t quite believe – but Jesse caught his palm on some warped sheet of chain link fence, then almost passed out when he looked down and saw the scarlet seeping from his shredded skin.

The pair sat for half an hour, unsheltered in the unforgiving wind, waiting for the kid’s head to stop spinning and the cold to rob the feeling from his hand.

All Joel wanted was to get home to you. You, and your hips swaying as you stand by the stove, and his hands kneading into the velvet plush of your waist, and the smell of burnt sausages and spatter of angry oil from the pan.

He’s so late. He said he’d be as quick as he could, said you’d barely know he was gone, and he’s so fucking late.

But he’s here now, at least.

He’s home.

As he kicks off his boots, snow sprinkling from the soles onto the doormat, he notices the absence of your arms around his waist. The missing weight at the back of him, no ear flat against his spine and hands interlocked above his belt. No relieved, I missed you, no nuzzle of your head under his arm.

The house is still and dim. The turntable spins in the corner, a dead crackle playing nothing for no one. Joel sniffs, eyeing the room and its new, orderly form: the books slotted neatly on their shelves, the rings of coffee wiped clean from the table.

Lifting the needle from the record, Joel calls out, Baby?

Maybe you’re in town somewhere. Maybe you’ve gone to spend the morning with the horses. But then, you would’ve been watching for his arrival. Would’ve skipped out from the stables and swung around his body, a gleeful smile and an outstretched hand. Take me home, cowboy.

And you wouldn’t have left the lights still burning, the player still turning. Your coat is still on its hook, smaller and brighter and where it belongs on the right of Joel’s. The cushions on the couch are fluffed and smooth, perched contentedly in place; the curtains draped in their tie backs.

You’re home. You’ve been home all morning.

So where the fuck are you?

Joel crosses over to the bottom of the stairs, blinking up at the painted cowboys and horses staring down from the landing. Calls your name, a faint singsong as he slowly ascends the stairs. You up there?

Down the wintery dull hallway to the bedroom door, figuring he knows the answer. And he’s right, isn’t he, when he nudges the door open and peers inside, spots the tiny lump of you in your double bed. Sunk deep into the mattress – covers you’d come in here to change, swallowing you whole.

A crooked, exhausted smile pulls across his lips; his thumb hooks around a belt loop, knee cocking.

You’re so…perfect. So heavenly, so still like this – stretched out on your front, breathing in the scent of his pillow and breathing out little puffs of air.

Joel leans over you, a heavy hand pushing into the mattress above your shoulder, and runs a featherlight knuckle over your cheek.

Pretty bird? he whispers, lighter than the long breaths from your sleep-swollen lips.

You don’t stir. No movement, save for the rise and fall of your shoulders wrapped up in his flannel.

Joel feels a pang of guilt, numbed only by the chill still through his body: he woke you this morning, before even the sun had lifted her head. Had you hunting all over the house with him, for some dumb holster that he wound up not even n–

His eyes trail down the shape of your body, draped in the sheets like white marble carved into the round shape of something beautiful, hands following the curve of your thigh. His wrist freezes when it meets the odd bulge of something, an awkward bump beneath the cotton.

He peels the sheet back, lifting it from your shoulders, your waist, your hips – until your angled thigh lies on full display for his feasting eyes.

His fucking holster…wrapped tight around your fucking thigh.

A disbelieving laugh at first – a She told me so, before he notices the indents in your skin, the stretched leather snug around your leg, riding higher than it should at the doing of your slumber.

Christ, baby, he breathes, stare glued to the folds of plaid hooked around the belt loop. Following the tatty hem down past your hip, along the underside of your ass – riding up some, right where your legs part.

And between them, all sheer and thin, twisted around itself and slipping between: your underwear. The threading of pubic hair peeking over the frilled hem of it; the sight filling Joel’s mouth with saliva.

A heavy heat forms in his jeans, an irritable weight which aches when he moves; which hardens when he pictures the image of you in his bed, his shirt, his holster wrapped around your thigh – playing with yourself while he’s been gone.

Fuck. Fuckin’…shit.

He lowers, running lips he knows are freezing cold along the burning surface of your skin, tongue slipping past his teeth to drag a wet trail along your thigh.

Your leg shifts under his touch, the startle of his chilled fingertips behind your knee, nuzzling of his nose where the holster sits smugly on your thigh. Smelling like leather and salt, the sticky sheen of sweat still glowing on your skin.

Joel takes your waist in two hands – he can’t fucking help himself, can he? – and turns you, patiently, watching as you roll onto your back so he can drag you further down the bed. Tongue flicking at the corners of his lips, thirsty for something he only wants you to feed him.

Slow, slowly. Every effort put into not waking you, to keeping you in this peachy haze between asleep and awake; your movements long and staggered, held firm against the mattress by the weight of your doze.

With a sigh, your jaw turns to one side. Joel pulls you in, kneeling at the edge of the bed with your socked feet resting on his shoulders. His shirt gathers around your waist; your hips and the thin twine of your underwear spotlighted by stripes of weakened sunlight spilling in through the blinds.

Oh, pretty bird, he groans, slipping his open palms under your ass, rough and squeezing the pillows of flesh in his hands. This all for me?

A moan wrapped in a hefty breath twists from your lips. Your knees fall limp; legs open almost eagerly, like your body inviting him in. And he accepts, takes it with eyes blown black and hungry lips parted �� leans in and nestles his nose against the thrumming heartbeat pounding through your clit.

Such a good girl, he whispers, closing his lips in a kiss over your clothed mound, and your hips jolt.

You’re so fucking warm. So wet; sticky and so ready for him. He kisses your folds, suckling gently and letting his tongue dart along the inseam of your lips in flicking movements – collecting the taste of salt and feeling his cock throb against rough denim.

Off? he asks – you and the room and himself – fingers hooking around the underwear rolled on your hips.

When your back arches, body feeling the loss of his tender kiss, rolling like a wave seeking to crash against the steady rock form of his – he smirks to himself.

Joel nods. Off.

He takes his time peeling them from your body, watching as more and more of his paradise is revealed. The waves of your folds, the sheer glisten of arousal along them; the dark hair peppering either side as damp and slick as the skin beneath it.

Your panties drop from a hooked finger without a sound and he turns back, hovering over your waiting cunt with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Out front, voices call back and forth to one another – some neighborly greeting and affable conversation – but Joel doesn’t hear. Deafened to anything but the sound of your sighs and his own blood hammering through his ears.

It’s a little rushed, a tad rough, the way he presses his lips back to yours. The way his beard grazes against your most sensitive spot, and the gasp he swears he hears lift from your tongue.

But fuck, he’s missed this, the way he always does – without knowing, without actively thinking about it, without knowing it was even at home waiting for him. If his mind weren’t on an entirely different planet right now, he’d curse that goddamn chain link for holding him up, for keeping him away longer than thirty seconds from the sweet little angel resting in his bed, and the sweet little pussy between her legs.

He parts your thighs wider, tongue dipping lower and deeper as he laps at your core, almost fucking panting against it.

You squirm lazily beneath him, shoulders tensing and untensing, a half-limp wrist lifting to pet his hair and an attempt at his name between your lips. Joel, you whimper, thick with sleep and something more dangerous.

I know, baby, he’s telling you, I know, and his tongue slips inside again. His hips grind into the mattress, cock an agonizing stiff against the sturdy edge. He can feel the wet in his boxers, the precome sticking to the inside of the cotton.

Fuck, he wants to be inside you so badly, so desperately.

Another gasp sputters across your lips, cut short in your throat when his teeth bump against your clit.

Too hungry, too brash, he thinks. You’re too soft, too open for him to let it go to waste. Not like this.

He pulls back, a filthy thread of arousal and saliva between his open lips and yours, and places a sodden kiss to the inside of your thigh.

But you whine, you poor little thing – your head twisting to the other side, a second hand now blindly surfing across his shoulder, past the brush of his beard and sifting through his still-chilly hair. The loss of attention to your pussy aching between your legs; your hips lifting weakly to meet the scratch of his chin again.

And that same sound – that same Jo-oel – a sound like song, like saccharine dripping over his shoulders.

So, he lifts a hand – two middle fingers coming together to push open your cunt, instantly sliding in knuckle-deep. Sucked in by the wet mess left behind by his lips, stretching you out with slow, round movements.

You’re slowly stirring, blossoming from your sleep and turning slowly back into this world. The cold edges seeping in, the warm flush of pleasure sharpening at their meeting. He’d do anything, he thinks, to keep you here; keep you teetering on the edge, tangled up between your world and his.

J– oh, fu-uck, you whine, and he can tell you’re still blinkered by sleep. But you grind on him again – a long, languid movement which seems to spatter out at its end when the coarse hair of his beard catches against your clit.

The breath stops in your throat, punching out in a shuddered moan. Joel could come just from the sound of it.

You gonna give me one, baby girl? he pleads, forearms clamping down on the underside of your thighs. Desperate – desperate to feel you, hear you, taste you as you come undone. Just one.

You’re writhing around beneath him, as needy as he is. A winding which matches his, coiling at the bottom of your stomach; a feeling which pulls at the corners of your lips and shocks them into a smutty, half-conscious smile. Your eyes roll back, fluttering open and then snapping shut when the light floods in.

There, you say, clearest so far, movements the strongest he’s felt. Your fingers root in his hair, rough over his scalp. Keep – keep doin’ that.

Joel smiles against your mound; a cocky thing, emboldened by the sound of that little Texan twang, the curl of an accent which doesn’t belong to you. Rather, a result of your years spent with him, watching the way his mouth shapes the words, learning the low swing and swirling melody of his tongue.

As if he’s as alive within you as he is within himself; every little thing Joel knows is him, injected into your bloodstream – his dry wit, his blunt honesty, his thick fingers and his insatiable tongue.

He slips in a third, flicking them perfectly inside of you. Beckoning your release; tongue sitting in wait, a resting point for you to grind your clit against.

And he wants it as much as you do: wants to feel the clamping of your body around him, wants to taste the flood of your orgasm as it shocks through every bone in your body.

Wants to pull three soaked, pruned fingers from your pussy and slip them over your tongue, letting you clasp your fingers around his wrist; watching the half-dozing flutter of your eyelashes as you suckle on them and make those pretty little sounds for him.

Your hand knots tighter in his hair, pelvis circling steady against his suckling lips. He can smell it on you: smell the need seeping from your pores. The sleep spilling from the corners of your mouth, the happy whimpers and quiet cries for more, more, Joel, more.

And – Shit, he breathes against you, feeling a sudden rush of electricity he knows all too well between his hips. Not now, not now not before he’s been inside – Shit, baby, gotta let me go.

You whine in refusal – a petulant sound, all stubborn and greedy. ‘m so close, I –

Pretty bird, he groans, lifting his jaw. He places a messy kiss to the crease between your core and your thigh, wrist stammering with his sudden movements. You gotta – you gotta let go, you’re gonna make me come –

You’re echoing him, mumbling the words gonna, gonna come – fuck, Joel, ‘m gonna –

Shit.

Not – Fuck – not right n– Christ, baby girl, you’re gonna – you’re –

Your walls spasm, clamping and relaxing, squeezing around his huge fingers. But it’s not that – it’s not the gush of warm fluid which seeps from between your legs, coating his knuckles and dripping into his palm.

It’s not the arch of your back, the way your breasts lift to the ceiling and his shirt slips below one nipple. Not the way your head rolls back against the mattress, a broken moan tearing in shards from your throat.

No.

It’s the way your hands leave his hair in an instant, and grip around the leather on your thigh. Skin stretching thin over your knuckles, thumbs between the strap and your sticky skin; hips still riding out your high as you ground yourself, holding onto his holster.

And it makes Joel come. Hard.

Harder than he knew possible, grinding against a mattress and the inside of his fucking jeans.

He falls forward, breathing a guttural moan into the soft swell of your stomach below your navel, fingers hooking into the baggy shirt around your arms.

Shitshitshit, he pants, feeling the warm ejaculate spurt from his cock and all over the inside of his boxers. Oh, fuck, baby. Fuck me.

His hips shudder a few more times, pressing hard into the edge of the mattress before he’s coming down, slowing to a stop – still a leaden weight on your stomach. His cock almost painful, overstimulated and oversensitive.

But then – something gently tittering. A bird singing, cooing above his head. The ground beneath his temple shakes, tremors with laughter. The dust twinkles in the sunlight, now brighter, golden, streaming through the window.

You’re awake.

Joel drags his gaze upwards, bleary and glazed with sex, and catches your eye.

Feel good? you ask, sifting hair away from his damp forehead. When was the last time that happened? Fourteen?

I don’t wanna talk about it, he mumbles into your belly.

Your chest jumps, a laugh which echoes into Joel’s ear. Tastes that good, huh?

It takes a mighty effort for him to push up on his palms, slowly crawling up the length of your body until his elbows plant firm into the mattress either side of your head. He groans as he lowers his lips, parting them to let you slip your tongue inside.

The kiss is slow, tender. Your bodies melding together, teeth clacking and jaws moving in sync. A sharp taste, sweet with a singe of bitterness to it. Perfect, you think, smirking against Joel’s cool lips.

He pulls away, lips tickling the tip of your nose deliberately.

With a giggle, you push on his chest. You should shower. You smell like patrol.

Joel cocks an eyebrow. You comin’ in with me?

Nope. I got even more laundry to do now, old man.

He entertains the quip with a subtle smile, a thing which softens the creases on his face and lights a twinkle in his eyes. Quietly, genuinely, in a way which makes your heart ache a little, he whispers, Sorry I was workin’, pretty bird.

You shrug. ‘s okay. You made up for it. And – I found your holster. You lift your knee, letting the buckle shine in the sunlight.

You did that, Joel agrees, nodding and glancing down at the thing. He hooks a finger around the strap, giving it a little shake. Maybe I oughta lose it more often.

Hm, you shrug, or I can just keep it safe for ya. Looks good, don’t it?

He feigns a disappointed smile, a resigned sigh before he looks back up.

Better ‘n when I wear it, he admits, and his lips crash down to yours again.

#same universe as 'wish you were here' - if you want #joel miller #jackson!joel #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #tw somnophilia #tw dubcon

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chloe-skywalker · 1 year ago

Text

Awkward Situation - Paul Lahote

Paul x reader!Fem!Swan

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,541

Requested: Twilight imagine the part in New Moon where Bella slaps Paul and her little sister is their w/her Paul imprints on the reader and jacob isn’t happy about it and stuff like that. - @cokecola4211

Authors Note: I enjoyed writing this I tried to make it different from what I’ve read before. Thank you for requesting! Sorry it took awhile to post my queue has been FULL lol

Masterlist

Twilight Masterlist

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“Bella, maybe Jake just wants to be alone- or maybe some guy time.” Y/n suggested it to her slightly older sister. Bella and Y/n were hardly even a year apart in age but that didn’t stop Y/n from occasionally getting treated like a baby compared to Bella.

Y/n knew Jake and Bella had been spending a lot of time together recently and it seemed to be good for her sister after the Cullens left. But Jake had become sick or at least that's what he and Billy had been telling Bella. Y/n wanted to just leave it, he’d come back on his own either way. But her sister, no Bella , needed answers now and she wasn't going to wait to get them on Jacobs time.

Bella shook her head with a tight expression on her face. “No, Y/n. Something's up. Somethings wrong I can feel it.”

“Bella, we’ve both known Jake practically our whole lives maybe he’s just-” Y/n shook her head lifting her hand in q wave motion before dropping it down to her lap. “I don’t know, going through puberty?”

“His dad keeps saying he has mono but it’s been almost 2 weeks and he won’t even answer texts. Let alone calls.” Bella explained further as she pulled into the Black’s driveway.

“Maybe he’s still sick.” Y/n tried one last time as Bella put the car in park.

“Well, we're going to find out.” Bella stated before she got out of the car.

Y/n unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car to chase her sister muttering to herself. “This isn’t gonna go well.”

Bella knocked on the door and shortly after Billy opened the door. Bella had told the man in the wheelchair that she needed to see Jake, but all she got was that he wasn’t there. Next thing Y/n knew her sister had welcomed herself into the home practically going right over Billy.

“Bella.” Billy called after her but it was too late and Bella wasn’t listening anyways.

“I’m sorry, Billy.” Y/n said apologizing for her sister's actions.

Billy let out a sigh and sent a tired smile to the younger Swan. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n.”

It wasn’t even a few minutes later that Bella stormed out of the house and Y/n followed yelling after her. “Bella!”

“Hey!” Bella shouted and shoved one of the shirtless males Y/n somewhat recognized. “What did you do to him?!”

That's all Y/n could really hear from so far back. So she shouted out to her sister again, hoping to defuse the situation if she couldn’t just get her to leave. “Bella!”

“Y/n wha-” Jake spoke out suddenly standing beside the Y/h/c-ed girl.

“She dragged me here with her.” That's all Y/n had to say for Jake to understand what was happening. Charlie got Y/n in the devoirce so Y/n and Jake grew up together their whole lives as siblings in Forks. They could understand what the other was saying with just a look.

Jake nodded before looking back at the scene and then pointed “And that?”

“She slapped that Paul guy.” Y/n told him and that changed his demeanor.

“Crap. Y/n, stay back.” Jake said as he noticed Paul shaking.

Y/n wondered why but then she made eye contact with the Paul guy her sister was taking her anger out on. It was as if time showed for a minute. All the members of the pack put it together, and that's when Jacob flipped and inevitably so did Paul.

Seeing them turn into giant wolves Y/n ran to her sister. “Bella, you okay?” Her attention was drawn back to the wolves fighting not far from everyone. “Woah. Now that's cool.”

“Really, Y/n?” Bella asked, turning her head to face her sister in disbelief at how her sister wasn’t scared.

“What?” Y/n shrugged. In her opinion that was cool. Way cooler than Vampire super speed, the eyes, and sparkling under the sunlight someone dumped a 1,000 pounds of glitter on you. The Paul guy and Jake turned into Wolves! And not just wolves, Giant wolves. That's impressive.

“What just happened?” Bella asked Sam Uley she believed his name was. All the while Y/n was confused as to the looks she was getting from the others, a few she had grown up with just like Jake.

“Paul imprinted.” Sam stated looking at Bella. Then Jacob came out of the woods still looking pissed off.

“On Y/n.” Jake grumbled, clearly pissed off at the new found fact.

“Take her back to Emily’s. Bella too.” Sam told Jacob which resulted in a very loud scoff from the younger male. “That's an order Jacob. Embry go with them.”

“Hey, Em.” Y/n nodded to Embry. They have been friends for years. It brought comfort to Y/n, knowing someone else. Someone that wasn’t pissed that would be in the car with her, her sister, and Jake.

“Hey, Y/n/n.” Embry smiled. He had missed seeing her around since he phased.

“Why is Jake so pissed?” Y/n asked Embry hoping he could fill her in on what's going on exactly.

Embry sighed before explaining. “Him and Paul don’t get along, and he’s protective of you. As he should be, you're like brother and sister.”

“Why would he be protective over me when it comes to Paul? I’ve never met Paul before.” Y/n squinted with a furrowed expression as she questioned Embry confused.

“Paul should be the one to explain it to you. It’s not my place, or anyone else's in the pack.” Embry felt bad for Y/n. She had no idea what was going on and it very much involved her. But like he said it wasn’t his place to explain any of this to her.

Y/n nodded in understanding, kind of. But maybe he could explain something else to her. “Can you explain the pack part to me then?”

Embry nodded with a smile stretching across his lips. “Yes, I can do that.”

It wasn’t a long drive but long enough for Embry to explain about the pack to Y/n.

“Who’s place is this again?” Y/n heard Bella ask and she listened for Jake’s answer.

“Emily and Sam’s.” Jake answered as he got out of the truck.

Jake and Embry helped Y/n off of the truck bed. With a quiet thank you from Y/n they all headed inside. The only ones that weren’t there was Sam and Paul. But it didn’t take long for them to join in on the group.

“Can I talk to you? Outside. Alone.” Paul asked nervously looking softly at Y/n, to let her know she could reject his request if she wanted to. Y/n nodded ‘yes’ getting up to follow him.

“Over my dead body.” Jake growled, glaring with his eyes set on burning holes into Paul.

“Jake.” Sam said his name firmly. Making Jake stand down. For now.

“Come on.” Paul nodded his head towards outside Y/n nodded as well and followed him outside the small nice home.

They walked into the woods for awhile, Y/n assumed long enough to be far away enough so the rest of the pack couldn’t hear their conversation. “So, I assume that they explained the whole pack thing to you?”

“Embry did, yeah. But not the imprint part?” Y/n spoke with a unsure tone, hoping she got the word right. Paul nodded with a twitch of his lips. “Not the imprint part. What is that by the way?”

“Guess I should explain that part then.” Paul smiled, hearing her just say the word of what she is to him. That made him feel warm on the inside, which was a new feeling for him. He did like it though.

“Embry said it was only your place to tell me what it is.” Y/n looked to the still shirtless male with curiosity. What did it mean? What did it have to do with her? And why did Paul have to be the one to explain it?

“I have a spot I’d like to take you, and I’ll explain on the way.” Paul suggested there was a place he wanted to show her that only he knew about. Great view that he never that he never showed anyone.

“Ok” Y/n knew she was being way trusting with this stranger. But he felt trustworthy. She didn’t know why but he does.

Paul stopped them for a second in their tracks. He really needed to know something and it was bothering him that he didn’t. “I do have a question before we get too far that I should know that I do not.”

Y/n let out an amused breath before asking. “And what's that?”

“Your name.” Paul smirked

Y/n nodded with a smile. “Y/n. Y/n Swan.”

“Well, Y/n Swan. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Paul’s smirk fell into a smile. He always teased the others who already had their imprints about how whipped they were, but now he was starting to understand.

Taglist:

@gruffle1 @padawancat97

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chososcamgirl · 4 days ago

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(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: burnt french toast

masterlist

extras!

• satoru gojo helping out his students to the higher ups in every universe

• public apology on main? oh bros down BAD

• cue the pining and yearning arc😍

• toge and panda were laughing at all the videos of megumi in the taco bell parking lot😭

• toge def retweeted his fav ones on main and then got told off by gojo LMFAO

• i feel like nobara has used that reaction image before but idgaf ITS TRUE AND REAL

• PLEASE TELL ME YOU GUYS KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABT WITH THE SANTA EDITS

• santa im writing to you because i want a pink pony for christmas…

• maki saying butch is canon

• i know she runs mcdonald’s like it’s the navy🫡

• the hate for kit connor has me seething

• no i haven’t watched heartstopper and i don’t plan to

• maki & nobara ARENT as mad this time bc like they know yn won’t do anything stupid and plus ig it’s justified… i think?

• the guys actually…. bonding?

• tridant not fighting for once*NOT CLICKBAIT*

• is this the bromance we’ve all been waiting for?

• this truely is my she’s just a phase😍🫰

• shakes magic 8 ball the stars say sukuna wants me bad !!! come here baby i’ll eat ur burnt french toast💔

a/n: ok maybe i over exaggerated how bad it was gonna be just a tad bit… 🤗 i was gonna initially have a written part for yn and sukuna but it just felt WRONG lmfao like it lowkey sounded like the megumi one so no thank you !! :/ also i know the party girls gc is LONG but its much needed i think !! anyways sorry it’s late u guys know me i’m never on time w posting :3 happy sjap saturday !!

taglist: @shokosbunny @satoryaa @prozacprinc3ss @essjujutsu @therealsatorugojo @yeehawslap @gojodickbig @dawnisatotalqueen @j2upiters @nappingnai @lalalasillybilly3000 @totallytatum @3cst4syy @lysaray @saltypuffin1040 @aozui @makeshiftproject @kurtcobaingirlie @kokoiinuts @dashingaurries @slvttycorpse @cuupidsss @mochroialainn @tenjikusstuff4 @ichcocat @laughingfcx @sugurubabe @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @tyigerz @yoyo-yui @megoomies @yizmiu @jasminasblog22 @marst4rz @guitarstringed-scars @kalulakunundrum @lovefrominaya @beepbopzlorp @itsdragonius @meguemii @chilichopsticks @starantulas @1l-ynn @sluttkuna @rcveriees @solaqes @starrysho @sukunaspillow @evry1luvssm @syxoki

*if i can't tag you please change your tag settings otherwise i will remove you from the list!

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qwimblenorrisstan · 1 month ago

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Reaching | Rhysand x Reader

Day 8: Growing Pains w/ Rhysand

Summary: Your mate isn't the same after coming home from Under the Mountain, but despite how frustrated you get, you'll keep reaching out your hand.

Word Count: 863

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, dying kids, implied rape, depression, murder, just heavy angst tbh

A/N: i feel like I just took 20 melatonin so I’m gonna post this and hope it’s good then crash out, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

You know being a High Lord meant he would be busy, and he’d been busy before Amarantha had happened, before she’d changed him, but never quite so…occupied.

Before, he’d made time to fit you into his schedule, shifting things around to make sure you were cared for and felt at least loved in your relationship. The bond remained open, flowing between the both of you at all times.

And then he’d been gone for 50 years. All because of some stupid party he’d insisted on attending while you’d been mildly under the weather with a cold.

It had been hard on you. The bond too far apart, not even the slightest touch being able to reach him, and you heard nothing from him.

At first, you’d been literally clawing at the doors of the House of Wind, Azriel and Cassian having to physically hold you back from going to Under the Mountain and finding Rhys, even if it meant being killed by some tyrannical queen over the territory.

It had driven you mad.

You’d then gone nonverbal for a few years, nearly refusing to eat or drink at all, stuck in your head all day anyway. It was only when the last decade rolled around that you rose from your depressive slump, throwing yourself into training with Cassian and Azriel, getting stronger day by day.

When he’d finally come back? You could’ve cried from happiness and relief that he was okay, that he was safe and physically unharmed.

You had cried quite a lot.

He had stood stiff as a board while you’d sobbed around him, holding him close, closer and closer while the rest of his family had celebrated, his Court celebrating as well.

But he hadn’t been the same.

You didn’t know what they’d done to him, what Amarantha had done to him, but he wasn’t the Rhysand you’d grown to love.

He didn’t make time for you in his schedule. In fact, he seemed to almost purposefully ignore you and try not to see you. You wanted to have a movie night, or just be near him in his office, or even have a simple stay-at-home date night? That was too bad. He had a meeting, or the paperwork was urgent, or he didn’t have enough time for it right then.

Except he never had time.

Conversations were short. Nothing meaningful or lasting, just little one-word answers, if he didn’t just act as if he hadn’t heard you at all. And conversations through the mating bond weren’t even there, considering how he kept the bond cemented shut and had since the day he’d arrived home. Not a tug of emotion, not a hint of feeling or words or even memories, nothing.

He laid next to you in bed but didn’t seem present. He faced away from you, curling up into himself, often waking up with the room covered in darkness, sweat soaking his skin, breathing erratic as he would flinch away when you tried to touch him, or even comfort him at all. Only silence and distance seemed to work.

You felt bad for trying to pressure him. He’d gone through more than you could imagine. You’d heard the whispers and rumors of what he had done Under the Mountain, the part he’d played to stay alive.

Warming that bitch’s bed.

Slaughtering children.

Shattering minds and bodies.

And that wasn’t even the worst he’d had to do. You understood he needed time, and you felt terrible for being so frustrated, but that’s why you were frustrated.

You kept sitting and waiting for him to come around, to crack, to eventually open up and he never did. Almost a full year passed, and still no sign of it. No sign of anything.

That cold, empty shell remained.

And so the two of you grew apart.

He slowly grew more into the cold ruler persona he displayed in Hewn City, face unchanging, eyes blank, expression flat. His people in Velaris stopped smiling at him in the streets. They only stared and stared and stared, not knowing what to think of what their once beloved High Lord had become.

You figured that it was better not to get reattached anyway. Not with a possible war brimming on the horizon, conflicts that could easily wipe him or the entire Court out. It would be better to save yourself the pain, really, the heartbreak you’d go through.

You eventually started sleeping in separate beds.

You stopped trying to pull him out of his office. If he wanted to sit in that chair all day and rot away doing paperwork, then he could. You weren’t going to try and order him around like a stern parent disciplining their child.

He could wallow in whatever was left of himself. You’d done it for almost forty years, maybe it would take him twice that amount of time. Maybe it would take him forty times forty years to finally open back up. Maybe he never would.

But even as you maintained your distance, you weren’t going to give up, just quietly remaining on the sidelines.

Giving him space to sort himself out.

And you kept reaching out your hand.

Tags:

@hawke1917

@angstober

#writers on tumblr #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #acotar x reader #angstober #angstober 2024 #rhysand angst #rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #rhysand #acotar angst #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #azriel acotar #cassian acotar

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madockisser · 20 days ago

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thought dump on new tfota book:

i think the reason that there’s going to be another jurdan book (supposedly) is mostly because Jude and cardan both have very unfinished stories.

you know that deleted scene at the end of qon where Jude and cardan are all sweet laying on the grass together? it was cut for a reason, and replaced w the epilogue in the mortal world.

In that epilogue, Jude herself hopes in her head that cardan won’t lash out at any humans. i always hated that part in her monologue, because it shows that Jude still doesn’t even really know the man before her.

it’s bittersweet that in their time outside of the series after qon, that maybe Jude learned why cardan wouldn’t lash out at humans. or maybe she’s yet to learn it in the new book.

but while i feel like there’s potential for them to do more, not just politically but with their relationship, some things are better left unsaid.

also, i don’t see the series being very romantically focused on Jurdan, only because miss black hasn’t really done that when it comes to her folk of the air series before. it’ll def be more politically driven.

i dreaded the publishing of the stolen heir and the prisoners throne because i worried that it would ruin Jude and cardan for me, and while that wasn’t the case, i still found myself unsatisfied with their story and how the entire family doesn’t really know each other.

don’t get me wrong, i do love family drama, but at the same time, Jude and cardan and oak and vivienne and Taryn have all endured so much trauma, I’d die for them to just be happy.

i assume the political problem will be the one i vaguely remember from the prisoners throne, the croin guy who hates orlagh and nicasia (can we blame him) and his evil sea buddies who attacked that ship oak and suren were on

Anyway i def think madocs dying in the next books, since it’s undersea based, and he had the queen of the undersea shot and whatnot, and while the ghost payed the price for that (sorta but not intentionally) i still think madoc is kicking the bucket.

Someone important is gonna die and i dread it.

on a lighter note, i really wish that miss black would pick up some of her older characters, not just for cameos. (Not gonna happen but i can HOPE)

i want to see Ben and severin, corny and Luis, Kaye and roiben, Val and ravus and their cute little troll babies. i want more info on the greenbriar line, on Val moren, on Locke even, his parents, on Jude’s parents, oriana, grima mog, anyone.

I’d especially like to see oriana and madoc finally have a relationship that isn’t based on obligation, one where there isn’t cute little Oakey pokey to take care of now that he’s grown. especially if it’s like scraps, like random interactions they have from someone else’s pov (idk i just think that’s so cute)

Lastly, all the hate im seeing abt jurdan potentially being the main focus for the next book is halfway understandable but also pretty sucky, as if oak and suren didn’t have their own duology after tcp trilogy. i can understand ofc not wanting them to be the main focus but slandering miss black over it is just rude, let her lock in and create another beautifully written fantasy world with complex characters.

also we know pretty much nothing. what the author said doesn’t even automatically confirm it’s going to be a jurdan book, but conclusions have already been jumped to and half the fandom is super excited and the other half hates the thought of jurdan getting another story.

edit for whoever sent that ask: of course it’s fine to not want them to be the center of the book! i agree, but yknow what they say: “you get what you get and you don’t get upset!” so maybe let’s not say mean things abt the author because that’s not very nice, if you’re gonna criticize, criticize the work and not the creator?

anyway idk i have 0 motivation to post anything decent hence why i haven’t posted an analysis in about 162948392 years only because I’m basing it on my reread and that’s going super poorly bc I’m taking a torturous precalc class

#tfota #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #the folk of the air #jurdan

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itaehynz · 11 months ago

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a night to remember.

pairing: choi soobin x fem!reader.

genre: (mdni) smut, slight fluff, pwp (?)

warnings: subby!soobin, oral (m. receiving), nipple play (reader receiving), soobin’s obsessed w tits per usual, riding, talks of shaving, breeding kink, overstimulation, hair pulling, praise kink, mommy kink, public sex (kinda?), unprotected sex (do NOT do this.) lmk if i missed any!

summary: soobin hasn’t seen you in months. but after tiring days of work, late night practices and tons of all nighters, another successful tour finished. what better way to gift him than showing up at his afterparty & leaving him with a night to remember?

notes: this is my partaking in @napofamoon’s growing pain collaboration! this is also my comeback post and way to bring in the new year, i hope you guys enjoy it! happy reading & happy new year’s, blessings and love to all. ^^

“so baby, are you gonna make it to the afterparty? i know you have work to do so i just wanted to make sure,” soobin asks with a gentle tone.

“yes my love, i’ll be there so there’s no need to worry about it.” you respond, typing away at your computer.

you hear soobin hum on the other end before sighing softly, “i’ve missed you so much.” he says with a soft, pleading tone. you smile softly at his tone thinking of how else his tone would come in handy.

“i’ve missed you so much more bin, it’s been so lonely without you love,” you pout, hearing soobin chuckle quietly on the other end.

“do you mean it’s been quiet without me?” he asks with a hint of sarcasm in his response.

you roll your eyes at that, “yes that too, it’s been nice not hearing you yell every other minute because gyu wouldn’t cover you in the game i guess.” you add, thinking back to all those times soobin has interrupted your wonderful moments of sleep with him yelling at beomgyu on his video game.

“hm, that’s what i thought,” he says snarkily. you both giggle at the unpleasant memories before soobin sighs heavily.

“i have to go, gotta go back on stage for our encore show. which means it’s time you should be getting for the afterparty, i wanna see how pretty you’re gonna look.” you smile at that, looking over at the dress that’s hanging on your closet door. newly bought, picked out just for soobin to see you in.

“i suppose you’re right, i already have my outfit ready anyways.” you breathe out, rubbing your lips in thought of soobin’s reaction to your dress.

“i’m sure i’ll love it & i can’t wait to see you in it, see you soon pretty!” he says before hanging up, which leaves you to wonder what shenanigans you two will get into due to this dress.

you plug your phone up, deciding to let it charge while you get ready. so many thoughts on how this night that awaits you could go, after almost four months of not being able to see soobin due to his tour.

shunning these thoughts away, you decide to just go get ready and let the wind take you wherever it wants.

you begin to rise from your bed, stripping yourself of your clothes and reaching for your towel. as you wrap yourself in the fabric, you walk to the bathroom turning on the shower and playing music before stepping in.

you carefully step under the warm water, running your washcloth, which is lathered in soap, over your dripping body. you scrub every part of your body with precision, making sure to get every crevice of your body. after washing yourself once, you grab your shaving tools to begin your “everything shower” routine.

you shave every inch of hair off of your body, brush your teeth, wash your hair and begin to wash your body once again. after doing so, you do a twirl under your shower head to make sure every bit of soap is rinsed off your skin.

after showering for what has been over 45 minutes, you turn off the shower and begin stepping out of the foggy bathroom with your towel wrapped around your body and an extra one wrapped around your head.

as soon as you step back into your room, your phone begins ringing.

you walk over to your charging phone to see who’s calling, reading “my bunny 🤍🐰” on the screen, automatically smiling before picking up the call.

“hello?” you say into your phone, “hi pretty! i tried calling you but stopped awhile ago assuming you were getting ready, are you?” you hear soobin say on the other end, his words shaky with heavy breaths added to them.

you chuckle lightly, ��yes soob, i’m still getting ready. is it okay if i call you back later? y’know, when i’m on my way there?”

“hmm, yeah that’s okay! i’ll talk to you later then, bye babe!” he says, awaiting your answer.

“bye pretty boy, talk to you later.” you say before hanging up and laying your phone back down on your bedside table. you decide to sit down on your bed as you begin to moisturize yourself, reaching every crevice making sure to leave no trace of dryness on your skin.

once you’re done doing so, you walk over to your closet reaching for your black dress. the dress in sight has a long slit at the thigh which will reveal almost your entire thigh and an open space from your shoulder to just under your sternum. the dress shows skin in all the right places, leaving little room for the imagination.

you take the dress off the hanger it was on, stepping into it slowly. you pull the fabric over your shoulders, walking in front of your mirror to see how it looks on you.

it brings out your curves well, fits you perfectly and makes you feel and look good. you smile to yourself, thinking about how soobin will react once he sees it. walking back over to your bed, you step into your strappy black heels tightening the strap in back.

once you finish getting all dolled up, you grab a small bag and your casual black jean jacket to finish off your outfit. walking over to your mirror, you finally let down your hair which you had tied up beforehand.

putting on a bit of mascara and eyeliner, you pucker your lips and add the finishing touch: lip gloss. you mess with your hair a bit and finally order an uber, which says 5 minutes. you begin walking to your front door, picking up your keys and turning off all of your lights.

you quickly walk out your front door, locking it behind you and hurriedly rush to the elevator making it downstairs before your uber leaves you.

after getting in your uber, you call soobin. he picks up almost immediately and you hear loud music playing in the background of his location, “hi baby!” he says loudly making sure you can hear him over the music, “are you on your way here?” you wince slightly at the sound of him practically screaming in your ear.

“yes bin, i’m on my way i’ll see you in a bit okay?” you say as you hear soobin laughing on the other end, “okay babe, see you!” he says before hanging up.

you put your phone in your purse and allow yourself a few minutes of silence before arriving at the club the afterparty is located. you’re excited, excited for the night that awaits you. but you’re also nervous, nervous for soobin’s reaction to your outfit… you know he’ll like it (a lot) but you’re still nervous. you brush the thought to the back of your mind and proceed with your night, let’s do this.

you step into the club, immediately looking around for soobin. once you find him, you walk past him acting as if you can’t see him to see if one of his members will point you out to him. as you do that, you see a mutual friend of you guys’, yunjin. you walk up to her, thankfully she’s not far from soobin & his members.

as you begin chatting it up with her, you suddenly decide to take off your jacket and hold it on your arm. after doing that, you suddenly feel a few pairs of eyes on you and hear yeonjun say something.

“woah, soob isn’t that y/n? she looks really nice,” yeonjun says tapping soobin’s shoulder and pointing to you. soobin looks over and his eyes widen at your not-so-sudden appearance next to yunjin.

you’re laughing with her, laughing ever so beautifully, soobin thinks to himself. “i’ll be right back.” he says, walking over to you.

he cautiously taps you on the shoulder, watching as you turn around to face him. once you turn around, he gulps and his mouth goes agape. “hi my pretty boy,” you say, batting your lashes at him.

“hi pretty, you look… perfect. is this all for me?” he asks bashfully, still taken aback at how perfect you look. you nod, “yes baby, it’s all for you.” you say as you notice soobin’s eyes trailing down you and stopping at your breasts which causes you to smile.

he gulps sharply once again, “ah, well, i really love this— um— dress on you.” you smile at how nervous he’s become. oh, how the tables have turned.

“mm, ‘m sure you do pretty boy. you look quite handsome yourself,” you say finally acknowledging the finely tailored suit he has on, raising your hands and playing with his tie a bit.

you feel him gulp, which causes you to look up at him through your lashes and smile prettily. you try to look down curious as to what he’s wearing on his feet, but something catches you off guard.

your pretty boy has a boner.

you chuckle softly at the sight, looking back up at soobin & standing on your tippy toes slightly to whisper in his ear.

“want me to handle that for you, baby?” you ask, cockiness heavy in your tone.

soobin nods softly, watching as you grab his hand and take him to the private lounge in the back of the club. there’s multiple eyes trailing the two of you, including yunjin and the members.

once the two of you reach the lounge, soobin slams his lips onto yours. just as eager as him, you wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. he slips his tongue in between your lips, clashing his teeth into yours softly.

you slowly bring your hands to his hair, threading your fingers through it and pulling it roughly. that was enough to get him moaning. as he moans out loudly, you pull his head back more for access to his neck. you begin to suck on his neck with ease, which causes him to softly whimper.

“f-fuck..” he says with a stutter, his bunny-like mouth unleashing the prettiest moans known to man. after you leave a trail of hickeys behind, you slowly but surely trail the tip of your tongue up to his mouth once more. he moans into the kiss, intoxicated by the taste of your lips. you remove your hands from his hair, bringing them to undo his tie quickly. he lowers his hands to your thighs, picking you up without warning.

you yelp, “my bunny is so strong,” you say as he stares at you with nothing but lust glazing his eyes, breathing heavily.

he sits down on the couch behind him, your legs on each side of his thighs. you throw his tie to the side, unbuttoning his shirt with quickness as he raises your dress up with the same amount of eagerness as you. you begin running a hand down his chest to his stomach to his cock.

you start palming him slowly as he massages your tits through your dress before pulling the shoulders of your dress down to reveal them to himself. he stares at your chest in awe before licking a circle around your nipple and starting to suck roughly.

you throw your head back in ecstasy, threading your fingers through his hair once again. “f— fuck.. baby, you’re so good for me, i love how your lips feel on me.” soobin moans at the praise, loving how you speak to him with such assertiveness in your voice.

he pulls off your nipple with a ‘pop’, moving to the other one with smoothness. he starts flicking your nipple with his tongue, biting it softly here and there, sucking on it once more.

you moan his name softly, gripping his hair rougher each time he sucks so roughly. he finally pulls away from your tits with a dazed look on his face. you grip his chin, forcing him to look up at you.

“you want me to suck you off, pretty boy?” to that he moans and nods his head as you run your free hand through his hair. “p— please, please do m-mommy,” he says with a pretty, pleading tone.

you hum with a smile, removing yourself from his lap to get on your knees. you look up at him as you unzip his pants at a painfully, slow pace. his breathe shudders slightly as you free his cock from the tight trousers he’s had to suffer in. pulling his pants down with his boxers, you watch his cock spring back up and slap lightly against his toned stomach.

you coo softly at his tip, leaking with so much precum. you wipe up as much as you can with your two pointer fingers and stick the two fingers into your mouth, sucking in between them and slowly pull them from between your lips.

with his swollen lips agape, eyes hazed and pleading without words, he watches as you take him into your mouth. hips already rising slightly while you lick up any excess precum on his swollen and pink tip. after doing that, you decide to try and take him into your mouth fully, something you’ve never been able to do. you successfully take him fully, but not without gagging sharply.

his breath stutters at the feeling of your throat fluttering around his cock, the feeling of you gagging around his cock, knowing he’s the one making you gag. you begin bobbing your head up and down slowly, causing the beautiful man above you to whimper and moan to a great extent. his hips stutter as he breathes in and out shallowly, trying to keep himself on earth which seems impossible, with the way your mouth feels.

“p—ple— f—fuck, p—please, mommy, p—please. l—let me c—cum.. please!” his voice increases in volume as you begin to suck him off at a faster pace, licking around his tip everytime you raise yourself back up.

“f—fuck, m—mommy! i’m s-so, c—close, p—please,” he says with the same pleading tone as always, hips stuttering every few seconds with sharpness. you take him fully one last time before thick strings of cum begin shooting down your throat, with your pretty boyfriend letting out loud, pretty, whiny moans roll off his perfect, pink lips while having a tight grip on hair, pushing you down with force.

you gag quietly as you try to swallow all of it, more still following behind what’s already been swallowed. he keeps his grip on your hair for almost a minute as he finishes cumming down your throat, whimpering from the overstimulating feeling of you licking his tip with the tip of your tongue.

you pull off of him tediously, teasing him in the slightest bit. you lick your lips and wipe your chin with your palm, slowly rising up and stepping out of your underwear.

“‘m not finished with you yet pretty, mind if i ride you?” you ask, batting your lashes slowly. with all his energy drained out of him, he just pulls your hand to help you sit on him. as you place both of your legs on each side of him once again, you place your hands on his chest, lowering yourself painfully slow, watching as he winces in overstimulation.

he places his hand on your ass, helping you move slowly as he continuously whimpers and moans softly. you coo at him once more, watching his face contort into what you know is pleasure.

“aw, is my pussy too much for you, bunny? i’ll stop if you want me to,” you say as you slowly stop moving before soobin pulls you down fully, causing you both to moan.

“n-no, i-i can h—hand— shit, i can h—handle y-your p—pretty p-pussy, i s-swear,” he manages to say, stuttering for the most of his sentence. you smile softly at him, caressing his face with your palm, “okay bunny, whatever you say.”

you begin raising and lowering your hips slowly while his grip on your ass tightens, adding more to your pleasure. you roll your hips in a circle, what was picking up your speed before soobin holds you in your place and starts snapping his hips up into yours.

your hands grip on his shoulders firmly, trying to find some way of keeping your balance. one thing you can’t help though, are the moans spilling out of you. everytime you ride soobin, you can practically feel him in your stomach but this time, you’re sure he’s already reached your lungs.

all the wind has basically been knocked out of you with the pace that he’s going at, each other’s moans spurring each other on. your head begins to feel heavy as you rest it on his shoulder, his moans now heard loud and clear as his mouth is right next to your ear.

you bite his shoulder roughly as a way to keep your moans down, but it’s getting to be too much. you give up and finally give in to the temptation.

“f—fuck! fuuuuck, r-right there, yesyesyes, f-fuck,” you manage to say while soobin is left a moaning mess, no words coming out, just plain music to your ears. he shoves his head into your neck, leaving marks all over your neck and above your chest.

his hips somehow manage to pick up a pace that brings tears to your eyes and has you throwing you your head back in pleasure. you’re both now moaning louder than ever and you’re sure anyone outside of the room can hear you both fucking like there’s no tomorrow.

skin slapping, moans rolling off your tongues repeatedly, cries from you and soobin. you’re both beginning to chase your highs as soobin pulls away from your neck and throws his head back on the top of the couch. somehow, you manage to pull him in for a kiss as you nearly reach your high.

the kiss is sloppy, heated and desperate. after not seeing each other for nearly 4 months, nobody would be shocked that this is how you two greet each other, if anything this is what was expected.

all the love that the both of you have been craving, all of the sexual tension that couldn’t be resolved over the phone, all of the pain you two have gone through that comes with not seeing your lover for such a long, long time, all the lost time. that’s all being made up for now.

feeling soobin inside of you after not having this for so long feels like a dream. having his sticky skin against yours feels like you’ve been healed from the world’s worst pain. this is what ecstasy feels like, this is what giving into the temptation looks like, this is what love looks and feels like.

you’ve never felt better, and you won’t until you cum together.

you’re both right of the tip of the iceberg, you feel it and so does soobin. your warm walls fluttering around his cock, his cock twitching inside of you. your nails clawing into his shoulders, his fingers gripping tightly on your ass. you suddenly get a warm feeling in your stomach and you want to let him know but you’re not coherent enough to say anything. neither is he, you two just know it.

soobin suddenly holds your hips in place and you grip his shoulders tighter than ever.

your back arches intensely as soobin’s hips rise up and flop back down as his thick strings of cum shoot into your fluttering pussy, just as your walls tighten around his cock and cum all over it.

you’re both panting heavily, heads resting on each other’s shoulders. his cum is still shooting into you but he’s used to this overstimulating feeling by now.

as his cum begins dripping out of you, he pulls you in for a long awaited kiss. once again, the kiss is sloppy but this time, passionate. you kiss him back with such love and affection, pulling away from him is considered the absolute impossible. but you still manage to do so, you pull away from him, looking at the thick sweat glistening on his forehead. you both admire each other’s wrecked looks before smiling and pecking each other on the lips once more.

you stay seated on him as you reach for your purse, causing you both to wince. checking your phone and seeing all your messages and missed calls from yunjin and his members, you look up at the time.

12:03 am.

you laugh to yourself before looking at soobin, “happy new year, my love.”

he smiles at the random words but doesn’t forget to say it back.

“happy new year, baby. i love you.”

“i love you too.”

now this, this is the way to bring in the new year.

++ tagl: @boba-beom @bucketofhiros @yeofy @n0-thisispatrick @hyukafied @hyunimylove @luvsoobs @choiwrld @majestyjun @tyunkus @belovedxiao @h00nerz

++ networks: @k-labels

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boxbusiness · 2 months ago

Note

for the fankid doodle prompt! If the backlog gets to my post that is...

Mammon has a kid! Unfortunately, was made unaware of when witches tried to get debts from him. One witch steal genes (white hair, his blood, etc) and makes a crow child. But oops, Mammon's crows can sense his magic and therefore his child. So now, Mammon has new baby crow kid. ...*immediately asks Lucifer and brothers for help in raising kid*

Somehow, Levi is kid's favorite brother. *"Levi! You brainwashed my kid with your Ruri-chan!?" || "...I'm the favorite one? Me?" Proceeds to cry and hyperventilate at the same time (in happiness)*

Very intriguing idea but I’m not gonna make a new oc when I’ve got too much already >w>”

But just wait a couple days maybe it will happen anyway lol

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mahs-dumpster · 6 months ago

Text

"Happy 100th anniversary"

a/n: this is soooo self indulgent please. It's a vignette (written only in dialogue) for Daisy's (my Yuu) birthday jacket card that I just made! I'll be linking it here once I edit this post!

cw: oc x canon (Ruggie x Daisy; they're established to be in a relationship and Daisy has already made her decision to stay in twisted wonderland); dialogue heavy; poor attemps at making this look like a fake translation from a vignette bc I'm delulu

The template for the frames of the paintings can be found here.

Words: around 1k

Happy birthday, Daisy!!

Daisy: To think I'm able to visit a museum like this! I wonder what sort of paintings I'm going to see…

Daisy: I'm expecting to maybe recognize a few from the stories mom used to read to me… let's see if I actually can recognize them!

Daisy: I wonder… is she someone I'm aware of? A lady who constantly cleans her house…

???: That's the princess who inspired the glass slippers you always wear.

Daisy: Huh? Oh, Ruggie! I thought you were all the way on the other side of the museum!

Ruggie: I was, but then I met Trey and we kinda ended up wandering around until I got here.

Ruggie: What a coincidence that I found you looking at the painting of the lady who inspired your favorite shoes, shishishi~

Daisy: I guess it is a fun coincidence. Oh, right! Would you mind explaining more about her to me?

Ruggie: Fine! But don't go walking around telling people I've gone soft…

Daisy: No need to worry, I wouldn't even dream of it.

Ruggie: *sigh* anyway… This lady is the princess that inspired your shoes, do you know the story behind it?

Daisy: Sam only explained to me that the princess who wore them danced with them until midnight… so I guess I don't know much more than that.

Ruggie: Right. Legend says she was an orphan who was forced by her stepmother to become basically a servant.

Ruggie: She cleaned the house all day everyday, was forced to hear awful things by her step family and when she wanted to go to a ball her stepsisters tore down her dress.

Ruggie: A Fairy Godmother – well, her Fairy Godmother – decided to help her get to a ball, she gave her a gown, a carriage and everything!

Ruggie: the Prince fell in love with her almost immediately and when she ran away and left her glass slipper fall, he tried it on every lady in the kingdom to find out who his beloved was. Then they got married and she never saw her family again.

Daisy: That’s basically the story of Cendrillon.

Ruggie: What? Oh– one of the fairytales from your world?

Daisy: Yes. I’ve always admired her story, I reread it a lot growing up because I related to her.

Ruggie: Ah… you did say your stepmother treated you horribly.

Daisy: She… treated me as best as she could.

Ruggie: Which wasn't anywhere near good enough.

Daisy: Haha… I guess you're right.

Daisy: What I mean is just… she treated me badly, but I don't hold grudges.

Daisy: Whatever she's doing, I forgive her. And now that I'm somewhere better and living a happier life… I hope that her and her children manage to grow as people.

Daisy: That's what my mother taught me.

Ruggie: …sometimes I really do wonder how I fell for such a goody-goody.

Daisy: W-what’s that supposed to mean?

Ruggie: I’m just saying, you're way too naive and nice to forgive someone like that.

Ruggie: if it were me, I’d never forgive them. No way someone's gonna step all over me and I'll forgive them.

Daisy: because that's exactly what you did to Leona-senpai, huh?

Ruggie: besides the point.

Daisy: Ruggie, isn't this painting depicting that story you told me about? The ones about the dogs sharing spaghetti?

Ruggie: Oh, that one, yeah! I didn't know they actually painted the scene, who would've thought.

Daisy: They're so adorable, I see now how romantic this is.

Ruggie: I guess? It's still just spaghetti…not only that but it's outside in the middle of the night. I guess for dogs it would be cool but for people? I’d honestly just be excited because it's free food.

Daisy: Oh, come on now! This is super romantic! It's a candlelight dinner under the night sky!

Daisy: If someone did that for me, I know I’d be pretty happy and satisfied.

Ruggie: You’re just trying to convince me to ask you on a date, aren't you?

Daisy: …

Ruggie: Should’ve figured, shishishi!

Daisy: You can't blame a girl for trying, I’ve been pretty lonely these past few weeks since you’ve been working more than usual.

Daisy: But jokes aside, this right here is already enough. I’m already way less lonely just by walking around this museum with you, it's practically a date!

Ruggie: I don't think a date would consist of everyone from our school coming with us…

Daisy: You get what I mean…

Ruggie: Tell you what, once we get back I’m cooking us both some spaghetti and lighting some candles if that's what you’d like.

Ruggie: If my flower is feeling lonely then I better give her a proper date so she can feel loved, right?

Daisy: You really don't have to… but thanks. I would love to.

Ruggie: Ah, this one's actually a very famous painting, I’ve seen pictures of it around quite often.

Daisy: R-Really…?

Ruggie: What? You don't believe me?

Ruggie: It ties with Sunset Savannah’s history and with The King of Beasts’s story!

Daisy: Well, forgive me for not understanding the historical significance of a monkey holding a lion cub…

Ruggie: *sigh* Alright. Lemme explain.

Ruggie: This is a ceremony often done by members of royalty when a new child from the royal family is born.

Ruggie: It goes so far back even the lions from The King of Beasts’s story did that. They basically present the baby to everyone else in the kingdom… it's kinda hard to explain.

Daisy: Oh, I get it now!

Daisy: I see why it's so famous, seeing how it portrays an aspect of the royalty of Sunset Savannah.

Ruggie: Eh… I never went to one, as you can imagine.

Daisy: Never? Is it not open to the common folk?

Ruggie: Well yeah, but back when there was one for who I now know is Leona-san's nephew, I was trying to survive.

Ruggie: I didn't have the time to go to a ceremony just to watch a new baby I didn't care about being presented to the whole kingdom.

Ruggie: I’d learn about him regardless, so I just didn't care much.

Daisy: I guess that makes sense.

Daisy: Still, it must be super interesting to see it happening. How cute would it be to see a baby cub being shown to the entire world just like that, hahah!

Ruggie: Ah– sorry, before I got here I told Leona-san I’d go fetch something for him at the cafeteria in a few minutes… if I don't go now he’s gonna be pissed.

Daisy: Why didn't you tell me sooner?!

Ruggie: Well, ya know– it's impossible to resist spending time with you~

Daisy: Alright there, Romeo, enough! Go before he gets upset. I'll be looking around this area for a while more if you want to come back.

Ruggie: *sigh* ‘kay, I'll be off then!

Daisy: Hm? Ah, this is another painting of Cendrillon.

Daisy: She looks so much free... I'm happy she got her happy ending.

#💌! mah writes #💌! daisy #💌! daiggie #twisted wonderland #twst #oc x canon #twst oc #twst yuu #yuu twisted wonderland #ruggie bucchi x yuu #twisted wonderland ruggie

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