#TOP 10 THINGS I DID NOT THINK WOULD TAKE THIS LONG GOD

[warpstarrie]

let her do a bit of mischief

[yrqrnc]

biker!haechan as your boyfriend who you’re mad at (but are you, really?)

★: fluff fluff fluff fluff & a very sexy biker!lee haechan

m.list

( 𝟔 : 𝟓𝟎 𝐩𝐦 )

“i know you’re mad at me angel, but please. hold onto me, or you’re gonna fall off.” your boyfriend pleads as he glances at you for a quick second through the rear-view mirror of his bike.

“no.”

your answer is simple and sweet bitter. a classic sign for him to know how upset you actually are at him, no matter how silly or random the reason may be.

and see, the thing is, in a room full of stubborn people, you would be superior. that is one thing both you and haechan have known for a long time.

so it didn’t matter how sweetly he talked to you right now, if you’re upset, you are upset.

“babe.”

you can hear the frustration in his voice, and that pisses you even more because, how can he be frustrated?

you are.

you were furious.

he was the one who had been all careless about driving on your way to the café by speeding and doing those careless stunts with his damned bike to apparently “show off his amazing skills”, and on top of that, he was also the one who then proceeded to smile a little too unnecessarily sweetly and be a little too unnecessarily friendly to the new pretty friend of chenle, whom you guys had met on your group hangout today.

of course, those were reasons to be mad.

right?

because he was quite shameless about it too. complimenting her right in front of your face and thinking you didn’t catch him side-eyeing you every 2 seconds to see your reaction everytime he interacted with her?

you found him utterly annoying.

most of the time, it was affectionately, but today, your patience had been running short and he had pushed your buttons too far.

your boyfriend was aware of that, and he thought it quite cute, actually.

however, riding the bike as his pillion rider while being on that current speed of the bike could be quite dangerous, and he only wanted to assure your safety in that moment.

“just focus on driving, haechan. i won’t fall off”

“baby, you will.”

“oh my god,” you groan out in annoyance. he really wouldn’t stop.

“i said i won’t. you know what? look—”

his consistent “hold on to me”s eventually get on your nerves in your already sour mood, and you decide it would be best to just prove it to him;

show him that nothing will happen at all—for once—so that he can shut his pretty mouth up and get you both home quietly and hopefully, try to then make it up to you there.

and to do just that, you start trying to completely detach your body from his.

you just saw absolutely no need to hold onto him like he was pushing you to do.

you let your hands fly in the air as you shift back on your seat, away from him, to show him that he’s overreacting and you’re really not going to—

it takes about half and a quarter second for the furious wind to hit you harshly, rolling in along with the fast velocity of the bike, and you’re almost sent flying back off the vehicle.

almost.

in that panicked state of mind, you latch onto haechan’s back instantly, grabbing onto him like your life depended on it.

and it did, actually, for a second there.

your mind becomes so frenzied for a moment; you almost missed how, the moment you shifted away from him, he slowed down and one of his hands immediately flew back to reach you, in an attempt to hold you and pull you back to keep you safe and steady.

then, there’s a moment of silence.

there’s a painfully long moment of silence; only the rumbles of the engine of the bike to be heard.

you try to process what had just happened and how you just quite literally just embarrassed yourself with all the confidence you had about around 10 seconds ago, while he takes his time to calm himself down and steady himself and the bike after knowing you’re still there behind him.

the loud quietness is humiliating until he finally breaks it.

“...are you okay?” his voice comes out a little shaky as if, after the initial panic, he’s now trying to bite back a laugh, and you know he’s looking at you through the bike’s mirror again, with that stupid smirk etched onto his face.

“yes.”

this time, too, somehow, your reply is short and bitter sweet, and biker!haechan finds you absolutely adorable as you very slowly sneak your hands up his chest from the back in a tight hold, sticking closer to him, while you try your absolute best to not face him.

only for your own safety purposes, of course.

because— fine, alright. maybe he was not all that wrong when he’d instructed you. you’d tried to prove him wrong, and nature had just done you the other way around.

and frustratingly, yet once again, he thinks you don’t hear him when he stifles a laugh right in front of you.

“shut up. don’t.”

you mumble out, in poor attempt to keep up with the anger instead of the embarrassment that was swallowing you up right now.

but you’re really just pouting in the backseat and your boyfriend knows that.

you don’t know whether you want to jump off this damned bike willingly yourself now, or if you want to hide your face in his back and never show yourself again.

“mm. didn’t, angel.”

and you hate how you can hear that cocky smile on his face without having to look at him as he speaks.

dumb, dumb, and stupidly hot lee donghyuck.

you loathe him, and both of you know how true that stands.

“are you hungry? we can grab some takeout from that place you liked last time.” his voice is sweet as it always is, as he suggests.

but your mind is still a fuzzy swirl of embarrassment and irritation at him from earlier, and it ends up speaking something completely against your actual wants.

“no i’m fine.”

“baby,” he smiles softly as he glances at you once more, “is that your anger talking or you?”

“…”

“you don’t want that beef soup ramen from that place?”

“no, i don’t.”

and he just knows from your tone that you’re sulking behind him as you say this, your mind screaming something else completely.

( ★ )

“you want something to drink too?”

haechan asks exactly 17 minutes later as you both stand to order your ramen and chicken wings.

what had you been mad at him about, again?

[letmerideitchris]

𐬺𝐕𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫𐬺

Summary: Chris matt and nick get a new videographer, she is funny, smart and pretty, basically everything Chris could ever want in a girl. Chris finds it impossible to not fall for her…

Warnings: smut, blowjob, getting caught, cursing

Wc: 1014

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 ��

“guys i dont want a new videographer, memo was the best and i dont think anyone could do what he did” chris says as he sits up from the couch

Nick rolls his eyes at chris’ comment. “chris you're gonna have to get over it because our new one is here in 15 minutes whether you like it or not.”

“maybe you will like him!” matt says trying to brighten the mood, but chris just scoffs and looks away

“matt what, you know its a girl right?” nick says looking at matt with a shocked expression

“really? Well thats good for a change of scenery i guess!” matt replies as he shrugs his shoulders

“this is dumb, i think i would rather stop filming content then get a new videographer”

“okay that is so dramatic get over yourself she’s here in probably 10 minutes now so put on a smile and dont be a bitch” nick snaps back

10 minutes later you arrive at their front door and hesitantly ring their door bell.

ding dong

“chris, how about you go and get the door because you're being such a whiny little baby” nick

“nick i swear to…okay ill do it.” chris sighs loudly as he walks downstairs towards their front door

Chris opens the door slowly to see the most gorgeous girl he has ever seen, the only thing hes thinking is all the things they can do together, but hes quickly taken out of his trance when y/n speaks up.

“hi im y/n! You must be… nick?” you say presumptuously

“h-hi yeah um nick.. I MEAN chris, yes, chris” “nice to meet you, y/n”

You chuckle “well lovley to meet you chris, would you like to take me upstairs to meet the other boys?”

“uhh YES of course i think they would love that” chris speaks up as he takes you upstairs to meet his brothers.

Chris is too stunned to speak properly, nick and matt meet you and they think you are great.

“sorry guys but it was kind of a long drive, would it be okay if i got some water please?”

“yeah no problem ill sort you out and give you a little tour of the place” matt replies walking in the direction of their fridge

“see chris, she doesnt seem bad at all, if anything she seems-”

“like my dream girl, yeah, i know, i dont know what to do” chris blurts out, feeling like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders from the confession.

“um so not what i was going to say but yeah okay! Your gonna have to hold all that in because i don't want you to fuck anything up and make it awkward” “oh god chris why are you sweating, you're gross go change” he says backing away from chris disgustedly

“i dont think that can happen nick but yeah ill get changed..” chris replies, aware of his sweaty clothes

Chris is opening his door with his top only half on

“shit! Oh hi sorry you gave me a shock.. How did you-” chris says as he slightly jumps back from his door frame

“matt said this was your room, i was just coming up to check it out, but that can wait for another time” y/n says apologetically “sorry I came up, that was dumb..”

“no it wasnt..” chris says reassuringly, slightly cutting her off

Your both standing there staring at eachother not knowing what to do, chris takes a slow step forward, you do the same, you continue looking at eachother until you hesitate.

“no, it was dumb, sorry, i will see you downstairs chris” y/n says quietly as she quickly walks away from chris

chris is left standing there wondering if he did anything wrong, guilt clouds his mind but he decides to make his way back upstairs all dressed.

“oh wow how nice of you to finally join us chris!” nick says whilst sarcastically clapping his hands

You are standing near the couch looking at him standing from the top of the stairs

“guys i need to go to the store to get some stomach medicine I'll be back” matt says grabbing his car keys

“matt are you kidding? Can your sore little stomach just wait?”

“no nick, it can't actually wait, that's why i am leaving now”

“god you are annoying, but i know you dont like driving alone so i will come…”

“arent you just a cutie!!” matt says jokingly and walks towards the door

“shut the fuck up or i am not coming, dont make it a big deal lets go”

Chris clears his throat “uhh so will me and y/n just like stay here” he speaks up

You both glance at eachother

“oh um yeah about that-” nick says quietly, only so matt can hear

“yes? What’s wrong with that? Whatever i am leaving now” matt

Nick stares at chris giving him a death stare as he leaves

The door shuts

Youre both sitting there awkwardly waiting for one of you to speak up

Chris breaks the silence “uh y/n… i am kinda sorry about before, i didnt mean to make things awkward”

“no, dont be sorry, i just didnt want your brothers to come up and see that.. But now they are gone.. So"

Chris swallows nervously as he looks at you with lust in his eyes

10 minutes later

All that can be heard from the living room is groaning and whimpering “mmph chris who knew in the first 30 minutes of knowing you i would be swallowing your dick” you say finally taking a breath

“youre good, a bit too good” chris says moaning “how many other guys have you done this to”

“well lets just say-”

Before you could answer you both here keys screwing into the front door, and faint talking from familiar voices

It opens

You are both staring at each other stuck on what to do as they hear footsteps coming up the stairs

“OKAY WHAT THE FUCK IT HAS BEEN 10 MINUTES CHRIS” nick says covering his eyes dramatically

divider credits @bernardsbendystraws

[sturnsdoll]

𝘏𝘖𝘛𝘌𝘓 -`♡´- - C.S

inspired by: this pairing: chris x ("bestfriend"!) reader summary: your bestfriend is bored at night so he comes to your hotel room. what activities will he think of to keep himself entertained?? warnings: smut w slight background, dirty talk, lots of praise, friends to lovers, dom!chris x sub!reader, fingering, swearing, cocky chris?, word count: 2700 authors note: as soon as i saw the post asking for someone to make something like this i knew i had to turn tf up. hope i did the request justice 😛 "pink" = reader speaking "orange" = chris speaking

「 ✦Hotel by montell fish ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10 ᯤ✦ 」

it had been nothing short of a long day. you and the triplets had been out all day taking a road trip. you were just excited to get to the hotel with your friends and sleep. you, matt and nick were all exhausted but chris, your bestfriend, was still bursting with energy.

you and the triplets entered the hotel and let nick take care of obtaining the keys and room numbers. the plan was that you would have your own room and nick, matt and chris would share a two bed room for the night.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

matt was out no less than five minutes after all of you found your rooms and nick was practically non-verbal on his phone. chris was on the edge of the bed by nicks feet yappin' away about his day. no matter how obvious it was that nick wanted his space, chris couldn't bring himself to just be quiet.

"i just feel like-" "chris oh my god" nick interupted. this caused chris to go quiet with a look that said 'what?' on his face. oblivious. "i need you to shush motherfucker go to sleep or go bug your little girlfriend" nick complained as he rolled over.

chris glared at him for referring you his girlfriend. then after him and nick exchanged a few choice words (mainly consisting of nick telling him to shut the fuck up) chris chose to go bother you instead.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

music played at a comfortable volume in your hotel room. you set down your toothbrush and turned the tap off. about to start on your skincare, you were interupted by a knock on the door. approaching the door you were expecting it to be cleaners or something, but upon the door opening you found chris.

"hey" he hardly greeted as he let himself in past you to sit on your bed. you sighed as you closed the door and looked at him with a look that asked what he was doing bugging you at this hour. "nick kicked me out" chris half jokes as his eyes scan you quickly. he caught notice of the way the cold exposed your nipples through your tank top. his eyes went back to your eyes before you could notice him looking.

as comfortable as you were with chris, recently there had just been these moments where you were sure you were both flirting with eachother or that there was some kind of tension. you had shrugged it all off though because although your feelings for chris were more than just platonic, you knew there was no way he felt the same. however something about being alone with him made you nervous.

"so you came to annoy me instead? great" your voice was sarcastic but in a playful manner. you headed for the bathroom to finish your nightly routine. "shut up you love me" chris retorts, following you to the bathroom.

you sat up on the counter criss crossed and begun pulling serums, washcloths and cleansers from your bag. chris enjoyed watching you do everyday things like this. he came behind you, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder, watching you in the mirror. his palms pressing into the counter. feeling his warm body so close to yours made you feel safe, comforted (also a little hot inside.)

you were both silent as your music filled the room. while you nurtured your face his eyes were glued to you, admiring you the entire time.

once you finished you gave chris a smile in the mirror "you know your gonna have to go back with nick and matt really soon chris i'm tired" you tried to turn around but he wrapped his arms around you from behind. embracing the hug as much as you could from this position, you leaned your head back and placed your arms on his. "but i'm bored" he complained. there was something almost mischevious in his eyes that you couldn't quite place. "but i'm tired" you said, mocking him.

his voice comes out quieter and lower next to your ear "oh i'm sure i could wake you up" there's a grin or maybe even a smirk on his face. you were sure he didn't mean anything sexual but still your face heats up and your sure that due to your bodies touching, he can feel the way your heartbeat begins racing.

you look at him with a shy smile although not knowing what to say. the song changed and the familiar start of hotel by montell fish begins to fill the hotel room.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙞 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢, 𝙞 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙣𝙚𝙬𝙨" ⊹ ࣪ ˖

an unspeakable tension grows and maybe it's your imagination but you swear a slight smirk spreads on his face. you don't realize it but it's been a minute now and you've said nothing back to him, only staring blankly back at him in the mirror.

"hm?" his voice snaps you out of your trance and you realized you've been silently staring at him for an uncomfortable amount of time. fuck. "i dunno i'm pretty tired" you panic at the way your voice comes out a little breathy. his voice drops slightly "you're tired hm?" his arms squeeze a little tighter around you "that why your hearts practically beating out of your chest?" his words mixed with his breath fanning your ear make you dizzy. you can't deny the mix of arousal and nervousness you're feeling. he's your bestfriend afterall, he knows you well enough to know exactly what's going through your mind right now.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪" ⊹ ࣪ ˖

so you decide to embrace those feelings. you pull his arms off of you and turn your body around so there's no choice but for your legs to dangle off the counter on either side of his waist. he's still not sure if your feeling how he is so to be safe, his hands rest on the counter next to the outsides of your thighs rather than touching you.

you quickly glance down his body then back up to his eyes. "that why you're hard?" you mock with a mischevious grin. for a split second he looks taken aback but then before you can tease him any further he grabs your thighs, dragging you closer to him. your thighs instinctively squeeze his waist. you gasp when his clothed erection pokes at your thin sleep shorts.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚"⊹ ࣪ ˖

there's a moment of silence as he searches your eyes for any sign of hesitation. instead he only finds lust and need. without skipping another beat, his hand comes to the back of your head, pulling you into a passionate makeout.

your arms wrap around his neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer. you wanted him everywhere, on you, under you, in you.

his other hand gently rubs your thigh while his lips break off from yours. he takes in your already disheveled state. lips puffy, eyes glossed over with need. "so pretty" he comments right before attacking your neck with kisses filled with teeth, tongue and sucking. a gentle whine escapes you as he lifts you off the counter. and even when he lays you on the bed his lips don't leave your neck.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙞 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣' 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢. 𝙞 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪"⊹ ࣪ ˖

his weight presses onto you but not suffocatingly. he subconciously ruts his hips into yours. "mm" you squirm your hips up for more but he pushes your hips back to the bed with his own. your cunt is aching to be touched in any way shape or form, so long as it's him. "chris please" your voice comes out desperate.

he completely ignored your plea but his lips do come off your neck so he can lock eyes with you. his hand slowly brushes down your side "god i bet you're soaked already" he seems as if he's speaking to himself. his fingertips brush across your hip bone now. his voice alone makes you try and close your legs to relieve some tension. with his body between them though, it's useless.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚?"⊹ ࣪ ˖

you look at him with doe eyes, wanting nothing more than his touch right now. "chris-" you begin when suddenly he pulls the band of your panties back before letting is snap against your skin "so desperate" he teases before his hand finally slips beneath the thin material. two fingers slide up and down your soaked cunt to collect your wetness on his fingers. then his middle finger makes quick work of circling your clit.

"who made you this wet, baby?" he asks with cockiness to his tone. your head goes to the side and your eyes find anywhere to look but him. you can't believe your bestfriend is talking dirty to you, while he's on you. as you let out a whiny "you" in response. he's way too entertained with how whiny and submissive you already are for him to be thinking about how shocking the situation is for you both. "mhm." he responds. his middle finger leaves your clit only to enter you along with his ring finger. a sigh of relief leaves your lips. "now look at me" his free hand grips your jaw, forcing you to face him. your eyes still avoid his though.

his fingers begin to curl repetitevly inside of you, forcing a moan from your lips. he feels his pants tighten at your reaction. "look at me or i'll stop." his tone is gentle but still commanding. it leaves you with no choice but to meet his gaze. you take notice of how much darker the lust has turned his blue eyes.

"listen so well" he praises before his lips meet yours. hearing him talk to you like this makes every ounce of your body heat up. you're already feeling close.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣, 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙤𝙝𝙝, 𝙞, 𝙞 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪" ⊹ ࣪ ˖

he pushes his wrist forward and somehow, his fingers reach even deeper and his palm rubs your needy clit. your nails dig into the back of his neck "s-so good" you mutter as your eyes stare hooded and glossy up at your best (not-so) friend.

the cockiness is seeping off of him "yea? you like my fingers?" his movements speed up as he speaks. his voice mixed with his skilled hands nearly send you over the edge. he can feel the way you clench, threatning to finish any minute. for that very reason he rips your pleasure away.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙚 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡, 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙞 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛, 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚. 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡. 𝙤𝙤𝙝, 𝙮𝙤𝙪"⊹ ࣪ ˖

you open your mouth to protest but he speaks before you can. "m' gonna make you feel good again, don't worry" he assures as he leaves you for a second to remove his clothes. you take this as your cue and remove everything besides your bra and panties.

chris resumes his place on the perfectly white hotel sheets. his hand is gently stroking his cock as he moves between your legs. your eyes lock with it and your desperation reaches an all time high. he's not small or thin by any means.

he smirks at the way your lips are parted, eyes watching, body waiting. he uses his free hand to push your legs open further. you knew letting your bestfriend fuck you was about to change everything for the both of you, but the way your whole body ached for him drowned out all the worries you had.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢 𝙄 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙣𝙚𝙬𝙨. 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙄 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪..." ⊹ ࣪ ˖

"you want your bestfriends cock sweetheart?" he asks staring down at you. "yes chris" your words come out impatiently. "then what do you say? hm?" you frustratedly watch the grin on his face as he taps his tip against your puffy clit just to tease you.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚"⊹ ࣪ ˖

you sigh "please." he can tell your frustrated. "you can do better than that" he states as he drags his tip up and down your pussy, juices coating his tip now. your hips push toward him but he only pulls back. "please fuck me chris. i need you"

"good girl." he praises, his length unexpectedly shoving into you. "god so tight" he groans the praise as he pulls back, then pounding into you again. "chris!" you shout as your hands go for the sheets but chris grasps them instead. his fingers interlock with yours, pinning your arms and hands down next to your head.

he picks up a harsh pace. uncontrollable whines and moans begin spilling from your lips. as his head drops next to yours, filthy things come out of his mouth into your ear.

you're just speechless, mouth open as your eyes roll back.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙞 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣' 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢 𝙄 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪"⊹ ࣪ ˖

he kisses your neck so gently, completely contradicting the roughness of how he's fucking you. "so pretty underneath me" he mumbles before his lips attatch to your neck again. you clench around him at the praise, making him groan and thrust his hips faster to chase his release as well as help you reach yours.

you whine out his name as you shut your eyes, his cock hitting the right spot everytime he thrusts his hips. one of his hands moves away from yours to slip between your bodies. his middle finger wastes no time on finding and stimulating your clit. your hips buck into his hand but with the way he's fucking you it makes no difference.

"need t-to- uh fuck" your words are cut off by a needy moan. he pulls away from your neck to look at you "what's wrong hm?" he asks with faux sympathy right before a particulary deep slam of his hips into yours, wanting to pull more of those pretty noises out of you.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙞 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪"⊹ ࣪ ˖

giving up on speaking you throw your head back, your free hand gripping his shoulder as you uncontrollably clenched around him, desperate noises coming from your lips one after the other.

"you need to cum?" he's out of breath and his pace begins to falter. you nod frantically. "go on then, cum with me" he says through his teeth as his hips twitch. one more thrust of his hips and his cum fills you up.

his hips still but he continues rubbing quick circles on your clit "come on, be a good girl and cum for me" his words are what send you over the edge. your hips lift of the bed, your mouth opens but nothing comes out. "fuck." chris mutters at the sight of you mixed with feeling of you clenching around his cock, milking him dry.

he pulls out but massages your clit a little longer, letting you work through your high before collapsing on the bed next to you. you roll on your side and he does the same, spooning you. the both of you leave nothing to be heard but deep breaths as you both smile at the experience that just occured.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪"⊹ ࣪ ˖

after chris finally got himself up to clean the both of yours mess you both got dressed and took seats on the bed facing one another. there was an almost awkward silence, not surprising considering you just let your bestfriend fuck the shit out of you.

you speak first "i don't just wanna fuck" you state with a worried expression. he stares at you for a moment and you think he's about to tell you he doesn't want any kind of relationship. "is that what you want?" you were quiter and much more sheepish now. you looked like you wanted to retract into your own skin and never come out. he quickly smiled. he playfully slaps his no-longer bestfriends shoulder. "no dumbass i want you" he says before scooching closer, grabbing your hips to pull you into his lap. then placing a delicate kiss on your lips.

you smile down widely at him "great. now can we fucking sleep?" you ask exhaustedly. "yup" he responds, standing up while holding you before tossing you on the bed and climbing in next to you. ⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡, 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚?"⊹ ࣪ ˖

(sorry for the stupid ending 🙏)

[dellalyra]

ʀᴏꜱʏ ᴘɪɴᴋ - ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ

pixie says: another request from my wife @soraya-daydreams coming thru with an absolute banger. family formations or can be standalone <3

“Y/N!” Came a scream from down the hall.

You were almost asleep, bed so comfortable and sheets so soft until your door flung open and three bodies stood in the entrance before barging in.

“Shoko stop bullying Satoru.” You reflexively reply.

“Y/N! Thank god you’re here! A voice of reason! These two,” Satoru says, pointing to Geto and Shoko beside him “are trying to get me to dye my hair!”

You just look between the three of them. Geto is on your desk chair, fiddling with your pencils. Shoko is perched on the desk beside him and Satoru has flung himself face down on the foot of your bed.

“Okay, and… you don’t want to?” You ask.

“Why? Do you think I should?” Satoru asks, and you wonder why Geto and Shoko snicker.

“It’s your hair, Satoru! If you wanted to you could do a temporary dye in like - a really fun colour. Like the pink in the ends of my hair!” You wave your strands at him.

“See! I told you she would like the idea! C’mon Gojo, let us dye your hair.” Shoko pleads.

“You won’t even need’ta bleach it or anything, man.” Geto chimes in.

“But guys! My white hair is like - my thing!” Gojo is flailing his arms.

“I thought your eyes were your thing?” Geto questions.

“I have many things!” The muffled voice replies.

“Y/N, what do you think?” Geto prompts.

“Why am I the deciding factor?”

“Because Satoru would jump into a burning building if you asked him to.” Shoko adds, blunt as ever.

You blush and hear a weak attempt at a protest from the end of your bed.

You’ve no idea where your friends got this idea that Satoru is interested in you the way your are him but they seemingly won’t let it go.

“I think it would be fun - but Satoru chooses the colour. Is that okay, Satoru?” You poke him.

“Okay.” He says, lifting his head from your comforter.

“Cool! Shoes on then. Let’s go.” You say, swinging your legs out of bed.

“Where on earth can we get hair dye at 10pm?”

So that’s how you ended up at a 24 hour store checkout at 10.30pm with your three best friends. After much deliberation, a temporary box dye was found that would last about 6 washes and wouldn’t stain. Satoru was being uncharacteristically sheepish about the colour he chose, keeping the box close to his chest, until he dropped it and you picked it up to see the top of the box was a soft, rosy pink.

Your favourite colour.

You handed it to him, blushing as he looks straight at you.

“It’s gonna look really nice on you, ‘toru.” You say, smiling softly.

The two behind you gag at the sweet exchange.

At 11pm, Satoru was sitting on your desk chair - towel on his shoulders as you and Geto worked the pink through his white hair - Shoko (the instigator) sitting on your bed.

“Okay! Koko, set a timer for 10 minutes.” You say, pulling the gloves off your hands.

“What happens in 10 minutes?” Satoru asks.

“We wash your hair!”

“Wait?! You need to shower with me?! At least buy a guy a drink first, Princess.” He smirks at you and you roll your eyes.

“No, you incorrigible man. Just your hair. Plus, you don’t drink.”

Finding a way to wash his hair was a logistical nightmare since everyone insisted on being in the room but Satoru’s long limbs were difficult to contain - but eventually, the shower head was rinsing pink streams down the drain and his head was free of dye. You wrapped a towel over his head and told him to go style it how he normally would.

He proceeds to shake his head and say “I just let it dry?”.

Which sickens you.

He’s just that perfect, that beautiful - naturally?

What an asshole.

He turns to take the towel off and looks at you three and you melt inside.

His blue eyes shine in excitement as your face turns the colour of his now rosy pink hair.

Seeing him decked out in your favourite colour? Did all kinds of things to you - though it would never compare to his natural, snowflake coloured hair that visits your dreams each night. That will always be your favourite, because it’s a sign of your ‘Toru.

“Look at this marshmallow man!” Shoko says, jumping to try and ruffle his hair.

“Marshmallow?!” Satoru says, spinning to the mirror.

“Bro - that actually looks really good. I like it. Turned out real nice. What do you think, lil’ lady?” Suguru says, turning to you.

“I love it.” You say, hands clasped under your chin.

You didn’t just mean the hair.

[eye-f0r-an-eye]

vessel's pre-venue jitters [nsfw - gn!reader]

-had to pause writing my lewis fic cause i listen to sleep token while i write and had a wicked idea pop into my head. now i can't stop thinking about vessel having mad anxiety before a show and the reader, who's also in the band, helping him calm down-

(i did not plan this out, i wrote it all on the spot, i just needed to get this out of my brain - i'm still prioritising my lewis fic)

word count: 887

cw: nsfw, swearing, sub!vessel, dom!reader, oral sex (m!recieving), reader's anatomy is not mentioned, no use of y/n, first fic posted! - author doesn't know what else to put here????

god i want him to mount me like thatfjsgtrwdsgvfyuiuh

you were a part of the band and served as a second guitarist next to iv, and you were always quite close to vessel - in ways that the others would always tease you about. although, you kept assuring them that there was nothing between you both, even when you used little petnames with each other.

you were searching for vessel right before a show to seek validation for a quirky idea you had about a little something you could do on stage. you never made rash decisions on the spot for fear you'd mess up the performance, very unlike the others.

you find vessel, still in one of the dressing rooms behind stage rather than getting ready to go out and perform.

you then notice that he's facing away from and has got his head against the wall, muttering small things to himself, and shaking slightly.

you approach to ask him what's wrong, to which he jumps a little, clearly not expecting you of all people to find him here.

"just... gimme a minute... get out there, i'll follow later..."

you're not having it. you make him sit down and notice the light sheen of sweat on his neck, which is already testing the integrity of the black body paint coating his skin. and he hasn't even done all his little dancey dances yet!

you ask him again what's up with him, kneeling down in front of him to appear less intimidating. he simply sighs. his shaky hands reach for yours, searching for that anchor to ground himself.

"just a bit nervous, love..." he mumbled as his hands interlocked with yours. "dunno why..."

you do your best to comfort him but none of your words seem to work, he always has a negative thought step in and frustratingly deflect your consolation with it's iron shield of self-deprecation.

as the time ticks quickly and you've now likely just less than 10 minutes before you have to go out on stage, and you definitely can't let him go out there like this. you need to release his tension somehow.

it's in this moment when you abandon your value of not making rash, on-the-spot decisions.

you slip your hands out from his, roll your mask up just above your nose, and begin make quick work of his belt, which ultimately made him panic a bit more.

"shit- w-what are you doing?!" he tried to stop you, but you simply swatted his hands away and began to shimmy his pants down his thighs.

you shushed him, telling him to just lay back and focus on the sensations. you assured him that you'd ease his nerves.

was it his fault that he trusted you?

he definitely goes commando under the costume, fucking fight me, i will die on this hill. he's also like 7-8 inches, yet you still believe you can take him all when you watch the length of it roll out like a red carpet.

you feasted on both his fat cock and the little moans you illicit out of him with stripe you lick up his long shaft, enticed as you witness him go from soft to rock hard after mere moments of you touching him.

your hand rested on his thigh while your other was tenderly fondling his balls as you suckled on his swollen, leaky tip. it was a struggle for him to keep quiet, who knows who could be lurking outside the unlocked door of the dressing room.

he could probably pass it off as him practicing his vocals should anyone have heard him.

his hand came up to nest on top of your head, gripping at the fabric of your mask as you slowly begin to take an inch of him into your mouth.

he struggles not to buck up and fuck the ever-living shit out of your throat.

you make quick work of him, taking as much of him in as you can, wasting no time in sucking him off. he softly whimpers out your name.

he finishes quickly with a loud stifled moan, you made it hard for him not to when you're bobbing up and down on his length like that, your tongue flattened, and your cheeks hollowed to optimise his pleasure.

he shoots his fat load deep down your throat, you swallow it all gratefully. your mouth pops off his cock, which is beginning to soften as he pants. he's certainly a lot calmer now.

however, he doesn't know if he could look at you the same while performing without getting hard again.

you may have eased his nerves but what have you done to his mind?

he tucks himself back into his pants, you pull your mask back down over the bottom half of your face, and you both leave the dressing room without uttering any words to each other.

vessel has a bit of a haze clouding his head while you regroup with the rest of the band, who are definitely smirking at you both for being gone until last second.

"you two snogging back there, or what?" iii teased you, making ii and iv giggle.

vessel was a little embarrassed, but he ignored it, finding comfort in the fact that they didn't exactly know what it was that you two were doing.

you simply told them to get fucked as you all began to flood onto stage.

hey, hoped you enjoyed this! i haven't read it over, i wrote it all on the spot and am now posting it. please let me know if you have any icks or recommendations on how to make this better!

thank you for reading!

-leo :3

[cottonlemonade]

Six And A Half Minutes

word count: 1608 || avg. reading time: 7 mins. (ironically)

pairing: University!AU Suna x chubby!Reader

genre: Smutty McSmutterson, teasing, nipple play, friends to lovers (?)

warnings: mdni, nsfw, swearing, mentions of insecurities

synopsis: you haven‘t had sex in a while and your best friend offers to help out

“Don’t.“

“I wasn’t doing anything.“

“I know that look. Don’t call him.“

Rintarou had just stepped out of his bathroom back to the living room to find you staring at your phone, biting your nails in thought.

“I doubt he‘s even up, it‘s almost 2am.“

“Good, then put the phone away.“

“Ha, bit rich coming from you.“

He confiscated the device of temptation, ignoring the pout that followed.

“You’re getting this back when I know you’re gonna behave.“ He shook his head, flicking some access water from his hair into your face - like spraying a misbehaving puppy with a water bottle.

You turned back to the TV, sinking deeper into the collar of your PJs.

Exams were finally over and to celebrate you had planned a movie marathon with your best friend. Since the news predicted a nasty storm tonight you both decided you would spend the night on his couch.

“Why call the bastard anyways?“

You shrugged, not looking at him.

“Booty call? Christ, y/n, can‘t you just watch porn like the rest of us?“

“Eh, nothing‘s been doing it for me lately. I was so annoyed by the breakup and exhausted from studying that it‘s been well over a month since I-“, you stopped when you realized what you were saying.

He grinned. “You know, if you need it that badly, I‘ll step up.“

“Oh, you brave soul. I‘m good.“, you scoffed.

“You were just about to call a lying, cheating jerk and somehow my offer is ridiculous?“

“Don‘t take this the wrong way, but I don‘t wanna fuck my best friend and I highly doubt you want that either.“

Rintarou bit back a remark, then sighed and said, “We don‘t have to have sex to make you feel good, you know.“

“What are you gonna do? Stare me to orgasm?“

You finally managed to look at him - he didn’t seem to be joking.

“Nah, but I‘ve been told I‘m pretty good with my hands. And mouth.“

“What are you even saying right now? I don‘t want you anywhere near…“, you vaguely gestured to your lap.

“Alright then. Bet I can make you cum by just playing with your boobs.“

“Oh my god, you‘re serious.“

“Well yeah, thanks for noticing.”

You chewed your bottom lip in thought.

“What happens if you manage to make me cum?“, you asked in a small voice.

He shrugged. “Then you owe me one.“

The offer did sound exciting and you’d be lying if you said he had never crossed your mind during intimate moments you had with yourself. But this was insane! So many things could go wrong with this. What if things would turn weird afterwards and you‘d lose him as a friend?

“If it’s too weird like this we can set a timer or something.”, he suggested, as always reading your thoughts right off your face.

“Alright… how long… do you think you need? A minute?”

“One minute?! Are you kidding? I’m good, but not that good!”

You laughed nervously. “Fine. 3 minutes?”

“10.”

“10?! No! That’s too long.”

“Fine, 8.”

“How about 5?”

“7.”

“What are you doing?”

“Just keeping it realistic. 5 isn’t enough.”

“You can do it in 5.”, you said, trying to add a light encouraging tone as a joke.

He didn’t budge. “7.”

“Why 7?”

“Cause 7 minutes in heaven.”

He grinned again.

“I remember those seven minutes always being very long and awkward. 6.”

“7.”

“This is not how this compromising thing works!”

“Hey, you’re the one who wants to get off.”

“Fine…” you say, feeling heat creeping into your cheeks, “6 and a half.”

“For fuck sake. Fine six and a half. But don’t complain if you don’t cum.”

Your ears were ringing from his bluntness and you rubbed your legs together, trying to covertly get some friction.

He muted the TV and scooched closer, nodding towards your top.

You were pretty sure your whole face was bright red at this point.

“You gotta lift you’re shirt for me or take it off, whatever you prefer.“

The insecurities came flooding in. Sitting was not the sexiest pose you had to offer. Your belly fat rolled and bunched, then there were the stretchmarks clawing at your skin, plus you knew you had a terrible posture, making you sit like the hunchback of Notre Dame. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly and took a deep breath, slowly lifting the hem.

“Wait.“, he suddenly said and got up, hurrying out of the room.

Your shoulders sagged. Didn‘t take much for him to run for the hills. You wanted to bury your face in your hands but a few moments later he was already back, a tie in his hand.

“W-what are you doing?“, you stammered.

“Well, you looked super uncomfortable so I figured a blindfold might help. I don‘t have a proper one so I guess my old uniform tie has to do.“

That was… surprisingly thoughtful and sweet. You smiled and relaxed a bit.

With his help you used the red tie to cover your eyes. He made sure your hair wasn‘t caught anywhere and the knot wasn‘t too tight.

“Lay back.“, he said simply. You swallowed and slowly lowered yourself until your head touched the armrest.

“You comfortable now?“

You nodded.

“Alright.“

You heard him tapping on his phone. “Timer’s set, lift your shirt.“

Feeling a little more confident now, you did as he told you.

The complete darkness provided by the makeshift blindfold helped a lot and the cold breeze from his aircon brushed gently over your exposed skin.

If your nipples hadn‘t already been hard from the whole conversation before, they were now.

You heard him curse, then shift on the couch. You waited in your own private darkness. The only sound was the quiet whirring of the air con.

And then your bra was pulled down and his hands were on your breasts, caressing, just on the sides at first. A gasp dropped from your lips and you shivered, arching your back into the touch.

Rintarou‘s mouth was dry. He couldn‘t believe this was real. Your skin was so much softer than he had imagined. With calloused fingers he brushed over your flesh, just teasing at first, so very pleased when, with another shudder, goosebumps started to appear on your skin. Your nipples looked so fucking tempting but he wanted to build to it. Not like he had a lot of time, but he needed to savor this. When he finally cupped your breasts he had to bite his lips to stop a new stream of curses. Pillowy and inviting he wanted nothing more than to rest his head and fall asleep. Or push his painfully hard cock between them.

He was already two minutes down. Shit.

He loved how sensitive you were to every squeeze, every brush. You really hadn‘t had any release in weeks, huh. Fuck, he wanted you. He licked his lips and lowered his head. Holding your breasts in both hands he drew circles with the tip of his tongue around your nipples.

And you moaned. Sending lust filled surges straight to his cock. He felt the twitch in his sweats. He needed you to do that again.

He moved to the other nipple, making sure to flick the abandoned one with his finger. You started to squirm and he was rewarded with another moan.

More. More. He closed his lips around you, sucking gently, swirling his tongue around the perfect little pebble in his mouth.

Oh, he was addicted to you. There was nothing else but you. He let your nipple go, only to set kisses to your skin and blow on your little pearls, wet from his saliva.

“Fuck, Rintarou…“

He was getting dizzy, his movements became needier and it took all of his remaining focus to not start rutting his stiff cock against your plush thighs.

Your whimpers and sighs were almost non-stop now and he just openly groaned with your perfect tits in his mouth now, the vibrations tickling your nipples.

Where had the time gone? When he glanced over at his phone, he only had a minute left.

He nibbled at your breasts, sucking deep red marks into the flesh. His hands, so careful and gentle at first, now became groping and he moaned loudly when his cock made accidental contact with your leg. He was not above humping you like a dog but he really needed you to cum first.

“Oh God, yes… Yes, nngh, Rintarou, fuck…“

Shit, were you close? He pinched your nipples, then let them plop out of his mouth before really latching on like his life depended on it.

Cum for me, he thought. Please.

You raised your hand and he almost came right there himself, when your fingers ran through his hair, pulling him closer to you.

“Fuck, y/n, cum for me.“, he whispered against your skin, “You can do it. Cum for me, baby.“

And the timer went off.

Startled by the noise you shot up, removing the blindfold.

The brightness of the lights left you disoriented for a moment. Rintarou sat before you, out of breath, flushed, disheveled. You had never seen this kind of hunger in his eyes. You felt embarrassed, fixing your bra over your slick covered breasts and lowering the hem of your shirt.

You still felt him on your skin. Why did you stop him? Maybe he would have continued, if you hadn‘t. Shit, you were so close.

While trying to avoid his eyes, your gaze landed on his sweats and the rather sizable imprint of his cock pushing against the fabric.

He didn‘t hide it. He knew you saw it. And he was waiting for your next move.

part 2

@nyctophilicroses - covertly slides over another Suna smut fic with chubby reader

[beom-pyu]

truth or drink! (couples edition): choi yeonjun

based off those truth or drink videos by cut on yt! who's next?

other parts: beomgyu & taehyun "my ex + my boyfriend edition" soobin "engaged edition" kai "blind date edition"

nsfw! (minors dni.)

welcome to truth or drink! couples will ask each other a set of random questions. they can either answer the question or take a shot.

“hi, i’m y/n.”

“and i’m yeonjun.”

how long have you guys been together?

YOU: “nine months.”

YJ: “nine months, really? i thought it was already a year.”

YOU: “that friends with benefits stage doesn’t count, i think.”

YJ: “ohhh, okay, okay.”

how did you meet?

YOU: “we had a class together in our freshman year of college and i thought he was sexy.”

YJ: “that’s it? you weren’t like attracted to my kind nature and generosity?”

YOU: “no, you just looked like you had good dick.”

yeonjun shrugs at the camera, a small smile on his lips.

YEONJUN: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever said about me to your friends?

you immediately reach for the bottle of fireball, pouring your shot glass to the very top. yeonjun glances at you, to the camera, and back to you, a disbelieving puff of laughter leaving his lips.

YJ: “was it that bad?”

YOU: “you used to be an asshole, jun.”

YJ: “...okay, fair.”

YOU: when was the last time you masturbated, and where was i?

YJ: “this morning. and you were right next to me.”

YOU: “why didn’t you wake me up?”

YJ: “you’re like the devil reincarnated in the morning.”

YOU: “i thought you were into that?”

YJ: “...”

you smile as yeonjun quickly pours himself a shot.

YEONJUN: what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done sexually with an ex?

YOU: “pour me a shot.”

YJ: “no, no, i actually wanna hear this.”

YOU: “oh my god. uh—okay. i fucked one of my exes with a 10 inch tentacle dildo.”

…

YJ: “can we try this sometime?”

YOU: “yeonjun.”

YOU: if i was put in a coma, how long would you wait for me?

YJ: “at least a good… year? maybe two.”

YOU: “wow… you wouldn’t wait an eternity for me? am i not the love of your life?”

YJ: “hell no. you run up my wifi bill.”

YEONJUN: when was the last time you faked an orgasm and why?

YOU: “i've never faked one.”

YJ: “you heard it here, folks.”

YOU: what would you think if you caught me watching porn?

YJ: “without me?”

YOU: “he’s actually said this before.”

YJ: “what if it was me?”

YOU: “‘again?’”

YJ: “okay, next question.”

YEONJUN: if our sex life was a porn genre, what would it be?

YOU: “dominatrix meets pegging meets cuckhold meets—”

YJ: “none of this is true by the way.”

you give him a pointed look

YJ: “some of it is true.”

YOU: have you ever had a crush on any of my friends before we started dating?

YJ: “you never brought me around your friends!”

YOU: “i’m pretty sure i did, like once or twice. it would’ve been awkward 'cause they knew we were fucking.”

YJ: “i brought you around my friends and they knew—wait, did you have a crush on any of my friends?”

YOU: “...pour me another shot, please.”

YEONJUN: name two celebrities you’d want to have sex with if we weren’t together.

you immediately take a shot.

YJ: “woah, wait why?”

YOU: “because i’d like a peaceful drive home.”

YOU: how many sexual partners have you had?

YJ: “maybe like… seven. eight?”

YOU: “you’re lying.”

YJ: “i’m not! do you think i’m a whore?”

YOU: “well, i’m dating you, so yes.”

YEONJUN: have you ever thought about cheating on me?

YOU: “you already know, but i’m taking a shot.”

YJ: “this is actually a funny story. so, there’s this guy named soobin—”

YOU: “okay, slow down—”

YJ: “and y/n didn’t cheat, but they asked if we could have a threesome—”

YOU: “we did have the threesome, by the way.”

YJ: “yes, we did.”

YOU: “we should call him later.”

YJ: “nah, i think we scared him off for good.”

YOU: have you ever considered having an open relationship?

YJ: “surprisingly, no. this is probably the first stable relationship i’ve ever been in and i don’t have any intentions on being with someone else right now.”

YOU: ���agreed.”

YJ: “you’re all mine, baby.”

YOU: “...can i take a shot, just for that?”

YJ: “shut up, you love it.”

YEONJUN: what’s the one thing you would change about me?

YOU: “hm… well, you do get super defensive about the littlest things.”

YJ: “i do not! what the hell?”

you deadpan the camera.

YOU: what’s my biggest flaw?

YJ: “you’re like a borderline workaholic.”

YOU: “i agree with that.”

YJ: “and me?”

YOU: “hm… you’re very, very forgetful.”

YJ: “i’m like dory.”

YOU: “yea, except dory is actually cute.”

…

YJ: “is the video almost over?”

YEONJUN: what’s your favorite thing about me?

YOU: “you always manage to make me feel safe and loved, even when my confidence is really low.”

YJ: “woah… i thought you were gonna say my stroke game or something.”

YOU: “i mean… that too.”

YOU: why do you love me?

YJ: “who said i love you?”

YOU: “cut the cameras.”

YJ: “i’m kidding, i’m kidding. um, well i feel like i always have? like we’ve been friends for so long, but no one has ever made me feel the way you do. i’ve never been happier… like i’m my true self around you, and i know i can be because you’d never judge me for that, yknow?”

YOU: “awe. guys, i’m gonna cry.”

YJ: “they’re actually crying, look. zoom in.”

YOU: “and that’s a wrap! thank you for watching this video! don’t forget to like and subscr—”

masterlist

©️BEOM-PYU

[lycandrophile]

conversations i’ve had with my mom this week about top surgery that will make my brain melt if i try too hard to make sense of them:

i was talking to her about how i might have to extend my medical leave because i probably won’t be ready to work at 4 weeks. she told me she didn’t expect my recovery to take this long. this is the same woman who, before i got top surgery, told me horror stories about someone she knew who had complications for months after having a mastectomy. was she just making shit up? was she lecturing me about things she was actively still in denial about? i can’t even begin to guess.

i mentioned to her that i’ve been posting about my experiences with recovery and she seemed…offended? by the idea that i was talking about it publicly. i shouldn’t be surprised because she’s the one who once told me the online trans community is “cult-like” and that she thought i was only getting top surgery because the trans people in my computer convinced me. the thing is, she’s also constantly asking me how my recovery timeline compares to other people so i…don’t know how she expects me to get that information if she also thinks talking to people about my recovery is bad.

she was asking me about how my incisions are healing and she told me to describe how they look to her…but “not anything that’ll make me cry”. do i know what she meant by that? nope! i can only assume the right move was to not describe anything too in-depth, even if it meant not including important details because they might upset her. priorities, am i right?

she asked me if, having been through the worst of recovery and knowing what it’s like, i would still make the same choice to get top surgery. obviously i said i would. she then proceeded to keep saying things like “really? are you sure? even after all this? you know you don’t have to say that, right?” as if it was completely impossible to believe i don’t regret this. why did she ask if she didn’t really want to hear the answer? god only knows.

we found out how much my insurance paid for the part of my surgery costs that were covered and it turns out they paid way more than any of the estimates i was given. my mom kept saying “that’s a lot of money you know” over and over again, as if i didn’t know that an amount of money high enough to buy a small house is a lot. i think she was trying to make some kind of point. what point? idk man.

0/10 totally incomprehensible interactions. i don’t even know what to make of them. i think now that the surgery is done and she can’t fight it anymore, she’s gone from being overtly ridiculous about it to just bringing the absolute weirdest vibes to every conversation about it.

[pearlessance]

Forgive Me, Father - Idle Threats [viii]

Series Summary — Joel has watch duty with Jackson’s twenty-year old, smart-mouthed brat and gets more than he bargained for.

Chapter Summary — Joel hears your confession and breaks all ten commandments in the house of the holy.

Pairing — Joel Miller/Reader

Warnings — Explicit sexual content MDNI, brat taming, age gap, mean!Joel, religious imagery and symbolism, catholic guilt, reader has added backstory to progress the plot, mention of sexual assault, murder, canon typical violence, renouncing of god, desecration of a church, blood, brief daddy kink

SERIES MASTERLIST

[cross posted to AO3]

The following days are easier than any other you’ve had since leaving Jackson. It takes two days, but Joel hears your laugh again and feels himself release a heavy weight at the sound. Once, when the two of you are switching watch shifts, you sleepily mutter his name. And he goes to you like he always will—and you whisper an almost incoherent confession of your affection. “I love you, too,” you say, and he tries not to think about the way it makes him feel like a boy your age, hearing those words for the first time. 

You move slower, and it’s not because of the extra weight strapped to your horses. Joel doesn’t say it, but he knows it’s because you’re afraid of returning to Jackson. Afraid of things going back to the way they were before this run.

In truth, Joel worries about it too. Worries about finding a new routine, worries about Maria and Tommy and Ellie, worries about what they’ll say. It won’t make him change his mind, he knows. Nothing would ever make him regret this selfish decision to keep you. But sometimes, in a too-long moment of silence, anxiety builds in his chest when he thinks of it. 

But you still have several days before you return, and Joel intends to soak up this sweet, delicate time with you while he still can.

A little over halfway back to Jackson, you stop before the sun sets and make camp in an old, abandoned church. The very same one advertised on the billboard Joel had seen on the way to Casper.

Some of the pews are turned over while others have been broken apart and likely set ablaze in the pile of ashes in the center of the floor. There are no infected, but there’s a stone statue of Mary that looms ominously in the corner, covered in dust and cracked along its painted surface.

Joel feels uncomfortable here. Feels watched, judged. His skin crawls and he thinks about pushing on until you find some other place to rest.

The altar table has been left untouched, decorated with a yellowed, satin ribbon draped along its center. The bible lying on top is flipped open to a passage Joel knows well.

Corinthians 10:13 

No temptation has seized you except what is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that which you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.

It’s bookmarked not with a scrap of paper but with a silver necklace tucked in its spine. A dainty thing with a cross dangling from the end of it. Joel picks it up, watches it sway between his calloused fingers. 

And when he turns to face you, you’re standing in the middle of the center aisle and the setting sunlight casts a shadow across your face, making you look like some angelic being sent to him by God himself. “Did you ever come to one of these before the world ended?”

Joel nods, takes the necklace in his hands and finds his way back to you. “Quite a bit when I was a kid,” he answers. “My mom was pretty religious. We went to every Sunday service and sometimes the ones on Wednesdays, too. Even sent Tommy and I to the church's after-school program for young kids.”

He holds the necklace out to show you, and a shiver runs down his spine when you trace the cross in his palm, your touch electrifying. It’s just the smallest brush of your index finger, but it makes the air get caught in his lungs. “Pretty,” you say wistfully. “Do you believe in God?”

Joel jerks his chin in a silent demand and you obey wordlessly, turning away from him. He unclasps the necklace as you hold your hair out of the way. “I did,” he answers slowly, wrapping the silver chain carefully around your throat. “And then I didn’t.”

“And now?” 

He secures it and runs his knuckles down the nape of your neck. No would be the closest thing to the truth, but it’s not quite it. Joel thinks about lying to save himself the shame but rejects the thought as soon as it comes. “I believe in you,” he says quietly.

Somehow this confession feels heavier than his declaration of love. Perhaps it’s because this is the thing he’s struggled with, this strange worship of Judas. You’ve come to him in pieces, a shell of a girl, a betrayer—and yet it’s your altar he crawls to. It’s you who holds the keys to heaven, who controls both his grace and his damnation.

Joel leans forward and presses his lips to your skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He can feel your breath falter, and so he does it again. This time a kiss to your shoulder, right above the collar of your sweater. 

His hands have a mind of their own as they find your waist. Joel knows this is wrong, knows how sinful it is, and yet he knows the only way to endure the taste of the forbidden fruit is to bite into it, to devour it, to consume it for as long as he’s able. He has spent so much of his life fighting, resisting, repenting—but maybe it’s time God asks for his forgiveness.

Your skin is smooth beneath his calloused palms. He slides them beneath your shirt, over your hips, up your torso. He pulls at the soft garment, and you lift your arms for him to make it easier as he pulls it off and discards it in the nearest pew.

And then his hands are on you again—this time tracing the edge of your jeans, pinky finger dipping slowly beneath the band around your waist, teasing. You’re panting now, chest rising and falling in quick succession. You say his name a little like a prayer and it brings a smile to his face. 

“Shh,” he says. “Patience is a virtue, little girl.” But he wants you, perhaps even more than you want to be touched, so his left hand finds the button of your jeans and undoes it. 

He moves slowly, and you stand completely still as Joel peels the too-tight jeans down your legs. You kick your boots off, and soon you’re standing in the middle of this crumbling church in nothing but a pair of baby pink panties and a white lace bralette, looking every bit the divine goddess he doesn’t deserve. 

When you turn to face him, there’s a playful glint in your eye. “Let me try it,” you say. “One question, though. Is it forgive me, father? Or is it forgive me, Daddy?”

Two things happen inside him at once. 

First, the crudeness of your words baffles him so completely that he laughs. Full-on laughs for the first time in twenty years. The vulgarity of it in a place of worship is somehow both amusing and horrifying. 

Second, all the blood in his head rushes south. Because the word daddy in your mouth is the most erotic thing he’s ever heard, the dirtiest thing he’s ever heard, and Joel knows right away that he will never have the strength to process why such a thing makes him so goddamn hard. Doesn’t even attempt it. 

He simply enjoys it instead. Allows it to drown him, consume him wholly. Accepts what is and what isn’t. Accepts that he is the most deplorable man that’s ever existed and it’s why he’ll never deserve you but it’s also why it’ll never matter. Because now…you belong to the most deplorable man. 

The devil and his pretty, perfect Judas.

And then you lower yourself to your knees in front of him and Joel struggles to keep his weary heart from bursting from his chest. 

His attempts at composure are blown to pieces when you press your hands together and look up at him through your lashes. With all humor bled from the moment, overtaken by a sudden hunger, you say, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” and something evil stirs inside him.

Something more than sinful. Something ungodly. Something blasphemous. 

That cross is draped beautifully between your breasts, cleavage elevated by the angle of your arms.

Joel reaches out with both hands and runs them through your hair affectionately. “You look so pretty on your knees,” he says. “You got somethin’ to confess?”

You nod and a smirk graces your face. “I’ve been having wicked thoughts,” you say, voice taking on an innocent and girlish tone. “And…I’ve been giving into temptation, Father.”

“S’that right?” Joel licks his lips. His cock throbs in his jeans, desperate for your touch in a way it’s never been before.

He watches, transfixed, as you take your bottom lip between your teeth, taking your hands from the position of prayer and instead running them up his strong thighs. You slide them beneath his flannel, soft hands cool against his heated skin. “I’ve been letting a man touch me.” You’re whispering, but he feels each syllable down to his bones. “An older man,” you continue, pulling at his belt. 

Joel finds you mesmerizing. Thinks you’ve ruined him. Completely, utterly decimated the man he used to be. “Touch you how?”

You don’t take your eyes off his as his belt clinks against the button of his jeans. “I’ve let him inside me, Father,” you say, pulling down his zipper at a torturous pace. “I’ve let him in my mouth, in my heart, in between my thighs.” 

He never thought it possible, but his need for you grows teeth, morphs into some vicious, ravenous thing. Joel brushes his fingers through your hair, pulling lightly at the roots. “And what do you think you should do as repentance, sweetheart?”

Joel’s reminded of a siren’s song when you answer, “I think I should show a little extra devotion. Don’t you?” You pull his cock from his jeans, and the simple touch of your hand has him nearly shaking in anticipation. You break character for only long enough to giggle softly, wipe the back of your hand over your glossy lips, and say, “My mouth is watering.”

He smooths your hair back away from your face, admiring the way you look on your knees for him, just as desperate as he is. “Go’head, baby,” he says.

You don’t waste any time. You’re slow in your pursuit; tongue tracing the vein on the underside of his cock. Savoring, worshiping, devoting yourself to him and him only. You swirl your tongue around the head, licking up drops of precum.

When you finally take him into your mouth, you don’t stop until you’ve swallowed him whole, choking on it, nose pressed to the tuft of hair below his navel. It’s the most glorious thing Joel’s ever seen in all his life. And then you moan, and he can feel the vibrations of it down to his toes. 

You pull your head back far enough, and your mouth leaves him completely, connected by nothing but strands of saliva. Your lips are already bruised and swollen, but they pull into the prettiest, proudest smile he’s ever seen, and Joel’s weak in the knees. 

“Filthy little girl,” he says affectionately, hands still running through the silky strands of your hair. “Y’like that? Hm? You like that mouth filled up, don’t you?”

“Mmhm.” There’s so much love, so much worship in your eyes that he feels his chest pull tight. You take his cock in your mouth again, tongue sliding along the underside of it, cheeks hollowed out to take him in deeper.

Joel feels your devotion with each soft lick, each swallow at the back of your throat, each ragged, choked breath. He knows he won’t last long. Your mouth is too hot, too wet, too sweet. And when you pick up the pace, bobbing your head, fingernails leaving indentations in the exposed skin of his thighs, pressure builds at the base of his spine like a fucking noose. “There you go,” he encourages. “Doin’ so fuckin’ good, baby. Shit —just like that.”

Your cheeks are flushed, and Joel’s once gentle hands pull tight in your hair, guiding your mouth down onto him. It only makes those delicious moans around his cock that much sweeter. Your thighs are clamped tightly together, and he barrels towards euphoria as he thinks about just how wet he knows you are, his dirty little girl.

“Fuck, baby—fuck. Hold on, hold on.” He pulls your head back, cock slick and glossy, covered in your spit. He’s going to finish just like this if he’s not careful. “Gonna be over too soon if you keep that up.”

“Please, Joel,” you say. “I want to taste it. It’s all I want. Let me make you feel good.”

Joel thinks Michaelangelo never would’ve sculpted David, had his existence overlapped with yours. Because in all the time of the universe, a sight has never lived as beautiful as the one of you begging on your knees before him.

What kind of man would he be if he refused? Joel wants to give you everything you could ever ask for. Wants to give you the world at whatever cost to his soul.

So, he doesn’t stop you when you wrap your bruised lips around his cock again. You feel like heaven, or as close to it as he’ll ever be allowed.

He comes at the back of your throat with a groan and trembling hands in your hair. Hands that are all too aware that they hold something holy, something divine. “ Goddamn —fuck. Mm, yeah. There you go, baby. There you go.”

His cock throbs in your mouth, and you don’t stop sucking until he’s completely spent. And when you do finally lean back and stick out your tongue, he’s nearly hard again at the obscene way his come drips down your lips, down your chin. 

Then you swallow, and Joel grins and rests his palm gently on your cheek. He uses the rough pad of his thumb to push the last few drops back into your mouth, and you suck it down greedily. “Gotta take it all, little girl. Make me proud, hm?”

And as soon as you’re satisfied, Joel’s pulling you back to your feet and pressing his mouth to yours in a ravenous kiss. He can taste remnants of himself on you, and it’s the most comforting sensation he’s ever experienced. It’s proof of your union, evidence of your devotion. A physical, tangible way to convince him he’s not alone in his sacrilege.

Joel lifts you off your feet, and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist. He carries you to the altar table, lays you down, and pushes your knees apart. Normally, he likes to take his time with you. Likes to savor the way you taste, the way you feel. But he’s so hungry for you and you only that he cannot— cannot wait another fucking second.

But then you say his name and his every intention freezes. “You don’t have to,” you say, and it confuses him. You attempt an explanation. “I don’t want you to feel like you always have to make me finish, too. I just…I didn’t do it expecting anything in return. I want you to know that.”

You sound so sincere, so… benevolent. A far cry from the bratty little girl he first met. He presses a kiss to your temple and says quietly, “I’d never let my little girl go without. Not the kinda man I am, baby.”

He might be too old to go rounds with you, but he knows how to make you feel good. He’s real good at it, in fact.

Joel leans over and presses a chaste kiss to your clit, right over your panties. He delights in the way it makes you shiver, but it’s nothing compared to the sounds you make when he pulls the fabric to the side and slides his tongue through your wet warmth. 

He presses your legs back, opens you further, and laps at your pussy like a man starved for you because he is. You taste like redemption, like home.

Your hands weave into his hair, tugging lightly, and Joel moans when you press his face against your pussy like he just can’t get close enough. He takes your clit in his mouth and sucks hard, tongue rolling over it softly. 

“Fuck, that feels so good, Joel— God —”

A groan escapes him, lips vibrating with the sound of it. His cock begins to harden again, hanging heavy between his legs. He’s insatiable for you; returned to the needy, desperate stage of his masculinity he once thought he’d grown out of.

Joel quickens the movement of his tongue and slips a finger inside of you. Your back arches off the altar table and your hips grind against his face, smearing your slick down his chin, over his lips.

He hooks his finger inside of you and strokes the spot that makes you writhe. You look so beautiful he thinks you must be some divine being. It’s the only thing that makes sense in his head. 

Your legs begin to tremble around his shoulders and that’s when he decides to pull away. Because he wants you to cum for him, wants to be the reason you shiver and shake—but he wants to feel it. 

In one smooth movement, he pulls you to the edge of the altar table and sinks his cock into you deep.

“Oh my God,” you whimper. “Fuck, fuck, Joel, I’m gonna—!”

“Wait,” he says, stilling the instinctual rocking of his hips. You’re so tight, so smooth and wet as your pussy flutters around his cock. He pushes into you to the hilt but doesn’t move, doesn’t give you the satisfaction. He moves his hands to your lower belly, applying just a little bit of pressure. He can feel himself inside you, can feel just how full of him you are. “Want you to cum with me, little girl,” he says. “Can you do that for me? Hm?”

Slowly, experimentally, he shifts his hips the smallest bit, thrusting into you and laughing maliciously at the way you squeeze your eyes shut and whine for more. “I can—can try,” you stammer. “But it feels so —”

“Shh, I know baby,” he says, thrusting into you again, a little harder this time. It feels euphoric, indulging himself in you in a place of worship. He can feel faith in the air like magic, faith in you, in himself, in the love you share.

He moves again, fucking you slow and deep. If it weren’t for the way you make him feel, he thinks he might last a little longer. But the taste of ambrosia lingers on his tongue and he can see the pulsing of your clit and feel the tension in your muscles created from holding yourself back from the edge of pleasure.

Pride swells in his chest. His perfect girl, doing everything he asks, doing anything to please him. It makes him feel holy, like maybe the only godly presence in the room is him.

This is what you’ve done to him. You’ve taken this shell of a man and turned him seraphic, turned him sacred through your worship. Emotion builds in his throat when he thinks of it, when he realizes just how lucky he is to exist in this same universe as you, in the same lifetime. 

He kisses you deep and fucks you even deeper.

“Joel,” you pant, fingernails digging into the side of the altar table. The aged satin cloth has been wrinkled beneath your weight, hanging slightly askew off the edge. “Please, please, I can’t—!”

Warmth pools low in his belly. You sound so pretty when you beg. He presses one hand harder against your abdomen and uses the other to circle your clit. He can feel his cock move beneath his palm with each thrust and the sensation is the filthiest thing he’s ever experienced.

The pressure builds and builds and builds, and then finally —

“Go ‘head, baby. Cum for me,” he says, thrusting a little faster, rhythm faltering as rapture fills him like sunlight. Your legs tremble around his hips and your moans echo in the church as you find faith, too.

“I love you,” you say, and it feels like redemption. Like the opening of heaven’s gates. 

Like forgiveness.

You come down slowly, and Joel’s completely spent with almost no energy left. Yet still he helps you dress, pulls your sweater back on, and buttons up those too-tight jeans.

You eat together, rationing what little food you have left to try and stretch these precious days out a little longer. You admit around a bite of hard bread that you’re exhausted from the day’s ride and he is, too. And so you work together to stack the pews in front of the church’s double doors, sealing yourself inside but more importantly keeping anything outside from getting in.

There’s a window at the back of the church in a room Joel knows was once used for confessional. He leaves it cracked just enough to hear the horses outside if a commotion is caused. And then he holds you in his arms and sleeps. 

It’s the best sleep Joel’s gotten in twenty-five years, the sound of your voice echoing even in his dreams. 

But halfway through the night, the sound of whinnying and rambunctious laughter can be heard, jarring you both awake. 

You’re out of his arms and at the back of the church before Joel’s finished blinking his eyes open. 

He stands to his feet, heart racing behind his ribcage. 

Men’s voices, but far away. Several of them. 

He watches you move quickly through the church to the window at the front, watches you carefully peak through the dirty glass pane. 

Joel saddles up behind you and has never been more thankful that you skipped the warmth of a fire. Because fifteen yards away, there’s a group of men passing through. Some on horses, others walking casually beside them. They’re not subtle about their presence. 

Maybe they don’t think anyone’s around. And on any normal day, they would be right. Except this day, Joel’s here. You’re here.

He picks up his rifle from the makeshift bed the two of you created hours ago. 

You don’t move. You stay focused, transfixed as if you’re trying to see the minute details of their faces from this far away. You wipe the glass with the ivory sleeve of your sweater and it comes away grimy, covered in dust.

Joel knows there’s something you’re not telling him. Can feel the tension, electric and tight in the air, skin crawling with it. Your eyes are narrowed, focused on the sound of rambunctious laughter coming from the small group of men. 

And then your spine straightens and all concern bleeds from your face, replaced in an instant with rage. Red, murderous rage. Joel thinks he’s only seen that sort of frenzy in his own reflection. Now it stares back at him, mirrored and bloodthirsty. “What is it?”

You don’t answer. The scrape of your knife against its sheath at your thigh strikes a terror in him he hasn’t felt in years. His stomach turns uncomfortably because Joel knows, he knows something isn’t right. Something is going to go wrong. He can feel it in his marrow. 

“Stop,” he says. “Talk to me.”

It’s like his words don’t even register. You say nothing as you pull at the pews stacked in front of the doors. They scrape noisily against the hardwood floor, and Joel tries to find something to stop you, to get through to you—but that knife is still clutched in your blanched fist and he knows in your rage you’ll swing at him all the same.

“There are eight of them and two of us,” he tries to reason. “We have no ammunition, no bullets, no arrows. We have to let them—”

“Go?” You turn your frenzied eyes on him. “What’s now eight used to be twenty,” you say. “I won’t let them get away this time.”

“Then we plan for it,” he says, holding out a hand and taking a tentative step toward you. It doesn’t matter to him what your reasoning may be. Joel knows that sort of wrath, knows he’ll never change your mind. And he knows following you down this path of slaughter is bound to bloody his hands further, to taint his soul this time beyond repair. 

But he made a promise to you. Nothing in this world will you ever face alone. 

The problem is that Joel knows neither of you will make it out alive. Not in this. You got lucky back in Casper, and he’s got the knowledge and experience with age to know you won’t get lucky twice.

He can’t let you do this. 

“They won’t get far, okay? Not in an area like this. We go home— tomorrow. We ride to Jackson and we’ll get there in a day if we don't stop. And then we’ll come back for them, alright? We’ll stock up and track them down. I swear to you—”

“You don’t know,” you say, voice shaking. “You don’t know what they did—!”

“So tell me. Tell me everything. Give me the knife.” He reaches for it slowly, carefully. You eye him like he might grow claws and an extra head if you look away for an instant.

You don’t trust him, Joel realizes. Not at this moment, not with this. “Joel,” you say in warning. “Don’t.”

He wonders what’s led you here. Wonders about who’s distrusting hands you once placed your justice in. 

The answer comes to him the moment the question crosses his mind. 

“I’m not like her,” he says. “Look at me, baby girl. Look at me .”

You do. And though that frenzied look lingers in your eyes, something in you softens and he’s grateful for it.

“I’m not Maria. You understand me? When I make you a promise, I mean it. I will kill them. All of them. But we have to be smart about this. We have to do it right. Yeah?” He reaches out again. “Give me the knife.”

You angle it higher, just out of his reach. For a second Joel thinks all progress has been lost because he moved too quickly, too carelessly. But then you say, “Swear it to me. Swear on her life that you won't make me let them go.”

On her life. 

Not her death, but her life. A promise of certainty. An unbreakable oath. Because if he fails, if he shatters this trust, Sarah’s life means nothing.

Joel’s lungs ache. Everything hurts and his skin feels like it’s on fire because no one has ever seen him like this. No one has known exactly what to say, exactly which bruises to press. 

He nods slowly. “Okay,” he relents. “I swear on her life that we will find them.”

Carefully, you hand him the blade, and as if giving it away had flipped a switch, you deflate.

Joel slides your knife into the side of his boot when you turn away from him and go back to the window. 

He stands beside you, a looming presence at your back. Even though he wants answers, he doesn’t want to pry them out of you. And your silence allows him the space for his mind to wander into unspeakable places. Joel has seen firsthand the depraved, vile things that mankind spirals into beneath the weight of survival. 

For a time, even he had sunk so incredibly low. 

And because he’s seen so much, his brain is filled with gut-wrenching images, theoretical scenes of torture, corruption, and perversion. Each one is more brutal than the last. And in them all, you’re the center of it. 

You watch the group of men through the window until the blue illumination of their flashlights disappears from view. And the moment they do, you’re slipping through the window in the back of the church. 

Joel follows you, a million questions on the tip of his tongue. But he stays silent and does nothing but help you gather debris fallen from the trees in the wooded area behind the church. 

Once, he picks up a curved stick, and as if you’d seen it from the back of your head, you say, “No. Not that one. If they’re too curved, the arrows won’t shoot straight.”

 The two of you gather timber for over an hour. And when his hands are just as full as yours, you return to the church. Joel returns your knife and you attempt to teach him how to shave the stick correctly and to whittle the point of it into a weapon. 

He’s not even half as fast as you are. For every arrow he creates, you produce three. It’s a slow, tedious process, but eventually, you begin to speak. 

“It happened on the last run I did for Maria,” you say, eyes focused on the knife and wood in your hands. “I fell asleep one night. It’d been days since I’d given myself a chance to rest and it had finally caught up to me. I’d barricaded myself in a house and might as well have been dead to the world. Two of them found me. Didn’t wake me, didn’t try to kill me or anything. They just took my bow and my pack. My pack that was mostly empty, had nothing in it but a twelve gauge with two bullets, some cans of food, water, and those stale fucking barbecue chips.”

You shake your head dismally. 

“Should’ve fuckin left it. But I…I was afraid. If I came back to Jackson without the one thing she asked for, what use was I? What kept me there?”

It pains him to hear you say it. He wants to tell you you’re wrong, that despite what Maria has made you believe, your worth is not tied to what you can do for her. But he doesn’t. Joel just lets you talk. 

“I tracked them to a warehouse a few miles outside of Boise. Watched them for a while, memorized all the entrances, the windows. Even memorized their faces. They had two people on watch in rotating shifts. I didn’t want to kill them, considering they didn’t try to kill me. But I wanted my pack, and so I waited until four of them were talking during a shift change and slipped inside through the back.”

Your eyes darken, and Joel fears what you may say next.

“Didn’t go as planned. One of them saw me. Outed me immediately, of course. And I thought they’d kill me. Shoot me or something. But that didn’t go as planned, either. The leader was called Gabriel.”

Your hands around the arrow still and your eyes grow misty. You’re reliving it, as clearly as if it were happening now.

“He, uhm…held me down. Suggested the rest of them take turns with me.” 

Joel feels something inside him shift. Feels a decision being made, feels murder begin to drip down his fingertips like water.

“They’d already had my shotgun and took the pistol I had tucked in the back of my jeans the second they ripped them off. I thought…I thought it was the end for me. Because even if I survived it, even if I made it through all twenty of them…I might as well have been dead anyway.”

He understands now, Joel realizes. Understands why you were so infuriated about a run for a pregnancy craving when the price was this. His mouth runs dry.

Your words echo in the dark church. “Had my knife tucked up the sleeve of my jacket, though.” A small smile graces your face as you turn the blade over in your fingers admiringly. “Was able to stop Gabriel before he got any further. They were…stupid. Arrogant. Came at me one by one because why would you need more than that to fight a little girl with nothing but a knife ?”

Now there are only eight of them. The main perpetrator perished, his blood stained so deeply into your jacket that when you’d returned to Jackson they’d had to burn it. No salvaging anything from your destruction. 

Nothing but this vengeance, this promise to yourself to right those who wronged you.  He forced you to break it for your own safety. And though a surge of regret and sorrow trickles into his psyche, he knows there’s still an unbroken vow remaining. 

The promise Joel made to you. 

“Some of them ran. I tried to track them but after a few days, I just…I needed sleep. I wanted to go home.” You go black to fletching your arrow, whittling the end into a sharp point. “I’ll find them one day. Then it’ll be me taking turns with them .”

You don’t say much else for the next two hours. And he doesn’t, either. He helps you sharpen the timber into arrows and when you yawn three times in less than five minutes, he gives you his flannel and lets you lay your head in his lap. 

Joel smooths the tangles in your hair as you sleep. And when you begin to softly snore, he carefully shifts your head onto your sleeping bag and tucks the strap of his rifle beneath your arm.

When he slips out of the window in the back of the church, he latches it shut.  He decides against taking a horse, worried it’d create too much commotion. 

But he does take your serrated sawback knife, telling himself it’s poetic justice. 

They’re only two miles away, stashed in a rundown grocery store that’s been picked over one too many times. Two men sit outside the door. Old habits die hard, Joel thinks. 

One has his head tilted back against the stone wall, sleeping with an ease he doesn’t deserve.

Joel takes out the other one first. And he does it quicker than he’d like. He creeps up behind him silently, wraps one hand around his throat, and uses the other to cover his mouth. The snap of his spine reverberates through Joel’s hands, tingling from his palms down to his elbows. 

The other wakes with the commotion but doesn’t even have the chance to scream before your knife is lodged in his neck so deep the sharp point sticks out of the other end. 

Inside, the other six all rest as well. Joel wonders how they can do so peacefully, knowing they’ve given an innocent little girl fuel for her nightmares. A girl who’s lost enough, who’s sacrificed enough, more than anyone should—only to lose a piece of herself at their greedy hands.

He makes quick work of them. Even delights in the way life leaves their eyes. One by one, Joel uses your knife to slit each and every one of their throats. 

By the time he’s finished, his hands are caked in blood, splatters staining the sleeves of his heavy, canvas coat, and all that’s left of the men who hurt you are eight corpses.

You’re still sleeping when he slips back through the window of the church. It’s a little ironic, he thinks, to return here to this holy place with an angel inside, all while covered in the stink of death.

Joel sits beside you, back pressed against a pew. His hands rest on his knees, blood still drying beneath his fingernails. He watches you sleep and thinks his damnation is worth it if this brings you a sense of safety. 

Though he tries not to, Joel thinks an awful lot about Sarah. Thinks about how he failed her, how just a little more brutality could have saved her.

He’s spent years regretting that night, regretting holding on to the shred of humanity he had left when he should have been holding onto her. He makes a promise not to repeat the same bad habits. Makes a promise he’ll never let his naive desire for respite get in the way of his need to protect you, to keep you safe. He’s breaking the habit, the same as he did with Ellie, because Joel doesn’t think he'll ever survive a loss of such magnitude again.

It doesn’t matter what he has to become to keep you safe. Doesn’t matter the cost to his soul.

Your face looks peaceful but your fists are coiled tight beneath your head. As if even in your sleep you’re fighting something, always on the defense. He wonders if it’s a trait you inherited before or after those men, before or after your sister's death, before or after the accusatory way the inhabitants of Jackson look at you.

Joel feels something heavy rise up in him. Something akin to sorrow or grief. This deep, pensive heartache because it’s just not fair. You’re so young, so innocent, dealing with the same demons he still fights and sometimes loses to at age fifty-two. 

He doesn’t want this for you. Doesn’t want you to become volatile, murderous, monstrous in the ways he has. Joel spent so much time pushing you away and he thinks maybe it’s because there’s so much of his anger mirrored in you. That staring it in the face felt too harrowing, too raw. 

The longer he thinks about it the more pieces slot together in his brain. Your cruel words hurled at anyone who sets you on edge. Your inability to follow any direction that isn’t forced. The self-isolation, the distrust in even those you love most. That animalistic fight in you, flight and freeze be damned. The need to protect others before yourself—Joel, Ellie, Miley, even Maria.

You don’t deserve to live like this. Don't deserve eternal damnation or to experience the wrath of God for the monstrous things you result to when you feel all else is lost. Violence is the only thing that has never turned its back on you.

Joel’s melancholy manifests, a single tear sliding down his cheek. You’re just a little girl and it's not fucking fair. 

He doesn’t want this for you. He wants you to live a full, happy, peaceful life. Not one spent out here chasing ghosts, trying to find your worth in providing for others. He wants you to be protected, to know you’re loved even when you lash out, wants you to know that he understands. Joel wants to be that for you. Wants to be the unwavering support you deserve, wants to be the thing that pulls you back from that ledge you’re dancing upon. Joel wants to be for you what he needed in the darkest part of his rage.

But to do that, you’re going to have to relinquish a little more of that control you hold so tightly.

When you wake, it’s gradual. You don’t startle or flinch at the blood on his hands. But your eyes linger there on the red stain for some time before you ask, “All of them?”

Joel nods once. “All of them.” 

And then you’re crawling into his lap, straddling him, pressing your mouth to his, thanking him in the only way you know how. Your tongue tastes like sleep and ambrosia and sunlight, but when Joel cradles your face in his hands he leaves blood in the wake of his fingertips. The bright red is a stark contrast against the smoothness of your skin, the violence an antithesis to your innocence.

He slides his bloody hands into your hair when your hips begin to move. His cock hardens quickly as his body catches up with your intent, always needy and eager, always just waiting to join you in more than just soul.

While he unbuttons his jeans and slides his zipper down to pull his erection out, your mouth never leaves his. Even when you shove those too-tight jeans down your thighs just enough to make room for him. When you lift up on your knees and sink down onto his cock in one familiarized movement he can feel the vibration of your moan against his tongue, can feel the breath of air from your gasp as he settles in deep.

The stretch is blissfully painful, stinging in all the right ways. You rock your hips slowly at first, adjusting to the sheer size of him, adjusting to his all-encompassing warmth. Your fingers dig into his thick shoulders, desperate to keep your balance.

And then you lift just enough to come slamming back down, the friction setting his skin ablaze. Again, again, again —it’s hurried and needy and depraved. Your hips move fervently over his, seeking out what you know only he can provide.

Your eyes are squeezed shut when you pull your sweet mouth away from his. Joel watches you lean back and place your hands on his thighs for support, back arching, and somehow he finds himself even deeper inside you. You’re moaning and his breath is coming fast and he thinks you look more than just angelic from this angle. He watches you ride his cock and wonders if you were fucking made to do this. 

Cheeks flushed, lips parted, his name on your lips. Is this what Eve saw in the waxy reflection of the forbidden fruit? Is this what she saw when she knowingly abandoned paradise? 

Joel thinks it can’t get much better than this. Thinks the only thing that’s ever come close is the feeling of blood on his hands in the name of those he loves, in the name of you.

He wraps his hand around your throat, staining you even further red, and says, “I’d do anything for you. Anything .” 

He thinks about the Ten Commandments, about how he can cross off every single one of them with just this act alone. 

You shall have no other Gods before me. 

No divine being has made him feel like this. No divinity has ever reached up through his ribs and squeezed a fist around his heart. Not like you have. 

You shall make no idols. 

He thinks about the way you look in his canvas coat. Joel has found his own form of peace through you, has found forgiveness beneath your tongue. 

You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain. 

Your pace quickens. The obscene, wet sounds coming from the place you’re joined echo in the walls of the church. “Oh my God, Joel, I’m—I’m close.”

He knows you are. Can feel it in the way your pussy squeezes him like a vise, in the way your rhythm becomes sloppy and desperate.

Keep the Sabbath day holy. 

Joel doesn’t know what day it is. But he knows he wishes he could stay here in this home you’ve made together within the bones of an old religion, wishes he could stay inside you. He doesn’t know if there’s anything more unholy than this insatiable desire.

Honor your father and mother.

He thinks about that day in the dining hall when embarrassment climbed Maria’s cheeks as you screamed in her face. Joel thinks she deserved it more than he realized that day. He thinks about the way you spoke to him in that watchtower, thinks about the way he’d had to drag you there by your hair, all while listening to every disrespectful thing that came out of your mouth and how a few short weeks later you got down on your knees and called him daddy. 

You shall not murder. 

He takes the hand wrapped around your throat and flattens it against your sternum. The blood is drying but still marks your skin in the shape of his fingerprints.

You shall not commit adultery.

Joel knows he’s supposed to be with a lovely, soft-spoken, age-appropriate woman but knows, too, that death would be kinder than the loss of you. 

You shall not steal. 

He was angry at first, about the strawberry scone. Mike’s wife is a kind woman who spends her time baking for the community. But Ellie likely never would’ve had the opportunity to try it had you not nicked the pastry. If it was always going to lead the two of you here, together, Joel would have stolen every last scone on God’s green earth. 

You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor. 

Lying seems a small price to pay for you, for your safety. He remembers telling Greg and Bonnie that you were running late the night you left him in the watchtower alone. He wanted to keep you safe then even without noticing that’s what he was doing. Safe from ridicule, from judgment. 

You shall not covet. 

He recalls seeing Abel’s hands on you, seeing his lips against your hair in a chaste kiss. Joel had wanted to kill him then, for touching what was his. He knows by taking you for his own, he’s taking you away from someone like Abel. Someone with a little more moral in their heart, a little less blood on their hands. But he doesn’t care because you’re his now and always. 

Joel lifts his hips in tandem with yours, meeting each stroke, thrusting his cock even deeper inside you. Your legs begin to shake around his and Joel thinks damnation isn’t so bad. “Anything,” he repeats. “Lie, cheat, steal.” His hand on your chest slides up again, wrapping tight around your throat. “I’d kill for you, little girl.”

Your pussy flutters around him and your spine bends in the most beautiful arch he’s ever seen. It solidifies his belief in one very important thing, the last nail in the coffin that cements the two of you together eternally.

This filthy, sinful devotion is cosmic. Celestial. Unearthly. So much more than a bible and cross. 

It’s worth it. It’s worth everything. 

“You like that? Hm?” Your rhythm falters but his remains steady. “Like that I’d spill blood for you, s’that it? That’s what got you all wet, sweetheart?” Your moans turn saccharine— sacrilegious. “Pretty pussy’s so fuckin’ tight, baby. Such a messy thing. I’d kill anyone for my little girl. Anyone .”

“Joel, I—!” 

He knows, he knows. Because he is, too. “Yeah, thaaaat’s it,” he says, drawing out each syllable. Your hands squeeze hard around his thighs and your muscles draw tight. “There you go, baby. Cum for me. That’s it. Sweet fuckin’ girl. Gonna fill you up. That what you want?”

You rasp out his name and the words yes, please, please, and it sounds like a fucking prayer. It’s a hypnotic litany. It makes him feel cherished, adored. And the sound of it spoken in worship in the house of God sends him over the edge. 

Even though your legs tremble around his, you ride his cock relentlessly. Joel’s vision goes white and his hand on your hip squeezes tight enough to bruise. You feel so good, so warm and wet. You lift your hips and slam them back down until the oversensitivity becomes more than he can bear. His hand abandons the home it’s made around your throat and finds the small of your back instead, stilling you completely.

You lean forward, collapsing with your hands pressed against his chest. Joel wraps his arms around your middle and cradles you in his lap, all too aware of the divinity he holds in his hands. He presses a kiss to your temple and listens to your heavy breaths.

Some time passes. He’s not sure how long the two of you sit there with Joel still wedged deep inside you, basking in the afterglow. The sun rises outside and the songbirds of the morning begin to sing. 

Eventually, you lift your head and whisper, “Thank you.”

“For what?” Joel doesn’t understand. He’s stolen something he was undeserving of, only to be loved back. If anyone should be thankful, it should be him. 

It feels like a punch to the gut when you say, “For seeing me.”

Because he now knows no one else ever has. No one has ever seen your defiance as anything but a nuisance, has never seen you as more than a troublemaker, as a bad omen.  

But Joel does see you. He sees right through all that savage fight to the little girl beneath, that soft, childish innocence you keep under heavy guard. He thinks he’s been able to see through it since the first moment he laid eyes on you.

It’s her he wants to protect.

Joel takes your chin in his hand and makes you a commandment of his own. “I will always see you.”

[part seven] [part nine]

taglist; @heartbrokenlilbitch-nef @elliesr1fle @pascaltesfaye

let me know if you want to be added! thank you to everyone for all the insane support on this <3

[masterist]

[mymindcreatedthis]

Need Help? 18+

Reader x Daphne Van Donselaar

Warning: Smut, Daddy kink, Dirty talk, unprotected sex, multiple Creampies, blowjob, throat pie, squirting, clit teasing, spanking, hair pulling, Positions: Table Top, Stand and Deliver, Doggy, The Spider, Cowgirl

Word count: 3.3k

*Y/n’s Pov*

It was the second week of camp. We had a long day of weight lifting and training, Daphne and I are roommates at this camp. We had just gotten back to the room.

“I’m gonna shower.” Daphne says.

I nod, I take off my shoes and plop on my bed and scroll through my phone as Daphne takes a shower and gets cleaned up. 10 minutes later Daphne finishes up in the shower and comes back into the room.

I grab new clothes and go into the bathroom. I start the shower, I set my things off to the side. I shower and get cleaned up.

I get dressed up, my phone pings, I grab my phone and check it. It was a text message from Danielle Van De Donk.

Dan: Are you able to hangout? I’m hungry, we can get food.

Me: Yeah I just got out of the shower. I'll be over in 2 minutes.

Dan: Okay see you in a bit.

I turn off my phone. I put my shoes in and grab my things. “I’ll be back, I’m gonna get food with Dan. Did you want anything?” I say.

Daphne smiles. “No, I'm okay. Thank you.”

I smile and nod and leave the room and go meet Dan.

*Daphne’s Pov*

I bite my lip and check out Y/n’s ass as she leaves the room. God she’s so hot, I can’t take my eyes off her.

I had a wet dream about Y/n last night so she’s been on my mind all morning. I was soaking wet this morning, I bit my lip and squeezed my thighs together as I felt myself getting wet again thinking about it.

I had time, she won’t be back for a while. I take off my shorts and panties and set them off to the side. I grab my dildo and grab my phone and lay on the bed.

I moan and look at a picture of Y/n and rub my folds. I moan, I slip in a finger and slowly finger myself as I continue to look at her picture.

Fuck I could look at this picture all day. Y/n was wearing just her sports bra and boxers. Her bulge was visible, she looked huge and she was definitely packing.

I moan and look at her tatted toned ripped abs. Fuck I would give anything to ride those abs and get off on them. I grab the dildo, I spit on it and take it in my mouth and start sucking my dildo as I finger myself a bit faster and continue to look at Y/n’s picture.

I moan against the dildo and cum. I moan and continue to masterbait to Y/n’s picture as I keep on sucking my dildo. I blush darkly in embarrassment and freeze when I see Y/n standing there smirking at me.

I didn’t even hear her come in. Y/n smirks as she watches me. She giggles. “Need help?”

I blush as I see her slight bulge, she was turned on from watching me do this. I set my phone and dildo to the side, and quickly get up off the bed. I grab Y/n’s hand and make her sit down at the end of the bed.

I get on my knees and kneel between her legs. Y/n bites her lip and moans as I kiss her bulge over her shorts. I grab the waistband of her shorts and boxers and look up at Y/n.

Y/n bites her lip and nods. “Take them off.”

I slide her shirts and boxers off and toss them off to the side. Y/n slips off her shirt and sports bra and tosses them off to the side. I take off my shirt and bra and toss them off to the side as well.

I bite my lip and check out her cock. “Fuck baby, you’re huge.”

Y/n blushes a bit. “T-Thanks.”

*Y/n’s Pov*

I bite my lip as Daphne slowly jerks me off and spits on my tip, her spit travels down my cock. I quietly moan as she continues to add more spit to my cock and jerk me off.

Once I’m hard Daphne takes my cock in her mouth. I moan as she slowly bobs her head, her mouth wet and warm. I moan and grip her pony tail.

Daphne hums against my cock and slowly bobs her head. I moan and rub my fingers through her hair, Daphne massages my balls as she continues to give me head.

I moan loudly in pleasure as she bobs her head faster allowing my cock to go all the way down her throat. Daphne chokes and gags at the sudden feeling.

"Fuck Daphne, do that again please." I begged, feeling my eyes roll to the back of my head from the sensation. Sweat dripped down my forehead.

Daphne did as I pleaded, repeating what she did allowing my dick to once again slide all the way down her throat causing her to gag again. Her spit spluttered everywhere covering my length moving her hand to play with my balls. The way she was playing with my balls began to make them tighten up. Combined with the speed she was bobbing her head, she was pushing me closer and closer to exploding in her mouth.

"Fuck Daphne, if you keep doing that I'm gonna cum buckets." I moaned as I repositioned my grip on her ponytail guiding her head up and down on my length. I could feel precum leaking out of my dick and into her mouth telling her that I was getting closer to my release.

She hummed against my dick in response as well as the new taste she was experiencing as she gripped onto my thighs to further up her speed.

"Uuuhh F-Fuck Daphne S-Slo...."

Throat pie:

I couldn't take it anymore. Her mouth was too good, without any warning cum came oozing into her mouth causing her to choke and gag. Daphne swallows my load and sucks me dry getting every last drop of cum.

My dick falls from her mouth and falls limp. Daphne smiles and shows me a mouth full of cum. Some of my cum drips down her chin.

I smile and rub her chin. “Swallow my load babe.”

Daphne smiles and swallows my cum. “Mmm you taste good daddy.”

I smile and blush at her nickname for me. I didn’t know Daphne had a daddy kink. Daphne smirks and stands up. I picked her up and set her on the desk.

Daphne giggles and lays back on the desk. We both moan as I rub my tip through her folds.

“Mm F-Fuck Y/n just put it in.” Daphne moans.

I moan and slide my cock inside her. We both moan as she takes my length deep inside her, Daphne moans and rests her legs against my shoulders and grips the edge of the table.

“M-Move.” Daphne moans.

I moan and place my hands on her hips. We both moan as I slowly thrust in and out of her. God she was perfect her pussy was wet and warm and felt like heaven.

I moan and kiss her leg, I moan and thrust into her a bit faster. My balls slap against her skin as our moans fill the room. I moan and thrust into her faster than before. Daphne’s tits bounce around as I continue to fuck her.

"Mmm fuck, feels so good." Daphne cries out in pleasure.

I moan and rub her clit with my thumb and hold onto her thigh as I thrust in and out of her faster and faster. Daphne moans loudly in pleasure as I rub her clit at a fast pace with my thumb.

“Mmm f-fuck, feels so good.” I moan.

“Fuck…fuck….fuck.” Daphne squeaks out with each pleasure.

I moan and plant kisses up and down her thigh as I continue to fuck her on the desk. My balls slap against her skin.

“Mmm fuck! Fuck I’m gonna cum.” Daphne moans.

Daphne moans and squirts. I smirk as I feel her juices on my abs and dick. I continue to run her clit as I fuck her, her walls clench around me letting me know she was close to cumming.

“Fuck I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” Daphne moans.

Daphne moans loudly in pleasure and cums all over my dick. Daphne cumming sends me over the edge.

Creampie:

I can’t take it anymore. Cum shoots out of my cock and fills up Daphne's entrance filling her up to the brim. I let go of her hip and massage my tits as I slowly thrust in and out of her.

Cum drips down her folds and drips onto the desk and floor. I moan and slowly thrust in and out of her as the last of my seed fills her up. Cum continues to ooze out of her as I fill her up.

We both come down from our highs. We both moan as I slowly pull out of her, cum immediately oozes out of her and drips onto the desk and onto the floor.

I giggle and rub her clit. “Fuck baby your stuffed to the brim.”

Daphne giggles and moans. “Mm fuck, I feel so full.” Daphne looks at me and smirks. “That’s only one load daddy. We’re not done.”

I blush as she says this. Daphne gets off the desk and walks over to me. “Let’s try something new baby.”

Daphne bends over, I bite my lip and grab her wrists and pin her wrists to her sides as I slam my cock back inside her.

We both moan as I slowly thrust in and out of her. I moan as I feel her walls clench around me, her walls are tighter in this position. I moan and thrust into her faster, my balls slap against her skin as our moans fill the room.

Daphne moans and bounces forward and backwards onto my cock after each thrust I moan loudly in pleasure her pussy was really tight in this position. I don't think I can last much longer. Her pussy has an amazing grip.

“Fuck…. Oh f-fuck!” Daphne screams in pleasure.

I bite my lip and get more turned on as her ass ripples from each thrust and claps against my abs. I moan and spank her ass, Daphne moans loudly in pleasure as I spank her ass.

“Fuck I’m squirting! I’m squirting!” Daphne screams in pleasure.

I smirk and bite my lip as I feel her let go. She squirts on my dick and on her thighs and onto the floor. I moaned and kept going, I was locked onto her ass. I couldn't stop watching as her ass rippled and jiggled with each thrust.

I moan loudly in pleasure as the urge to cum gets stronger. I moan as her walls continue to clench around me, it’s only been 10 minutes and I’m already about to tap out and finish inside her.

Daphne moans loudly in pleasure. “Ahh fuck I’m gonna cum.”

“Mm me too.” I moan in pleasure.

After a couple more thrusts I moan as my balls tighten. Daphne moans and cums all over my dick.

Creampie:

We both moan as I slam my cock inside her and cum. Cum shoots out of my cock and fills up Daphne's entrance filling her up to the brim. Daphne moans as I unload my seed inside her and paint her walls white.

We both moan as I slowly thrust in and out of her. Daphne collecting the last of my cum inside her pussy. Cum oozes out of her pussy and drips down her thighs as I continue to thrust into her and fill her up with my load.

I moan and help her ride out her high. I spank her ass one last time, I slowly pull out of her. Cum immediately oozes out of her, cum covers her folds and drips onto the floor and drips down their legs.

“Please keep going, Y/n I need more.” Daphne cutely begs.

I giggle at her comment. “Get on all fours babe.” I ordered.

Daphne does as I say, she gets off her knees. She moves onto the bed and gets on all fours. "Such a good girl." I say and spank her ass as she wiggles it around.

I get situated behind her, I line my dick up with her pussy, a thought comes to mind as I reach around Daphne’s body taking grip of both her wrists and place them behind her back so her face is against the mattress.

"Ready baby? Ready to get destroyed?" I whispered as I gripped her wrists tighter and slammed my cock deep inside her pussy.

She let out a mighty scream filled with pleasure as I bottomed out inside of her pussy, not slowing down.

I moaned as I carried on destroying her entrance. Daphne tries to reply to which I press her face into the pillows muffling whatever she tries to say.

The sight of her ass rippling against me after every thrust was a sight I loved to see. Daphne trying to move her hands but couldn't from the grip I had on them seemed to send her into overdrive. Her moans became louder, sweat dripping down her back as she began to get closer to her orgasm.

Daphne moans loudly in pleasure and slides back and forth on my cock. I moan as she does this, I giggle and squeeze her ass. She was desperate for my load.

Daphne moans and throws her ass back against me sliding back and forth on my cock faster and faster. I moan and spank her ass.

Daphne moans and cums.

Creampie:

"Fuck." I yelled as I began to cum at the same time as Daphne . I could feel my cum oozing inside of her, not being able to warn her in time. Us both moaning together as we reached our highs, filling her pussy to the brim.

One final spank to her right cheek, I let go of her hands to which she fell onto the bed exhausted. I planted a kiss on her ass before moving the kisses up and down her back receiving little giggles from Daphne . Suddenly flipping her over onto her back.

“Sit back on the bed babe.” Daphne says.

I do as she says and sit back on the bed. Daphne lays on the bed and lays on her back, her hips between my legs. I bend my legs a bit and move my foot outside of her hips.

“Put it back in daddy.” Daphne cutely moans.

I bite my lip, we both moan as I slide my cock back inside her. I moan as her walls immediately clench around me. I moan and slightly grip the sheets as Daphne moans and slowly rocks back and forth on my cock.

I moan and lock eyes with her, Daphne moans and looks at me, her eyes full of lust not wanting to stop. Daphne moans and rocks back and forth on my cock a bit faster.

I moan as her skin slaps against mine as our moans fill the room. “Mm F-Fuck.” I moan in pleasure.

Daphne moans, she throws her head back and goes even faster and harder. I moan and run her clit, Daphne gasps and moans as I do this.

“Mmm fuck…fuck.” Daphne moans as she continues to rock back and forth on my cock.

“Mmm fuck baby your gonna need a pill after this. You have so much cum.” I giggle and moan.

“I don’t care babe. I just need you and your cum.” Daphne moans.

I moan as the urge to cum gets stronger. It’s only been 9 minutes and I’m already about to tap out and bust inside her. Daphne moans, her breathing gets heavier letting me know that she was close to cumming.

“Mm. S-Someone close?” Daphne moans.

I moan and nod. “Yes, I’m gonna fill you up.”

Daphne moans and cutely giggles. “Let go daddy, let go and fill up my pussy.”

I moan as she goes even faster and harder. I giggle and bite my lip as she screams in pleasure and squirts again. She squirts all over our legs, my abs, and cock.

I moan as I feel my balls tighten. “F-Fuck Daphne bab-“ I’m unable to warn her in time.

Creampie:

I moan loudly in pleasure, I can’t take it anymore and let go. Cum shoots out of my cock and fills up Daphne’s entrance filling her up to the brim.

“Mm f-fuck.” Daphne moans.

Daphne slowly rocks back and forth helping us ride out our highs collecting the last of my cum in her pussy. We both moan as my cum leaks out of her and oozes onto the sheets as she continues to rock back and forth on my cock slowly.

I moan and slowly pull out, cum immediately oozes out and oozes onto the sheets. I giggle and rub her pussy as I admire the sticky mess I left behind in her pussy.

“Mm fuck babe.” I moan.

Daphne giggles and kisses me. She breaks the kiss and looks at me. “One more?” She questions.

“One more.” I say.

Daphne straddles me; she lines my dick up with her pussy. Daphne puts my tip in her and slowly sinks down. My dick taking my length deep inside her.

We both moan as I'm deep inside her pussy. Daphne grabs my boobs and takes a moment to adjust to my size.

"Fuck I thought you were big in my mouth. I feel so full with you deep inside me." Daphne moans.

Me and Daphne both moan as she slowly slides up and down on my dick. "Mmm fuck, so wet and tight." I moan in pleasure.

Daphne slides up and down on my dick faster and faster. "Mmm fuck daddy you're really deep in there." Daphne moans.

Her skin slaps against mine as our moans fill the room. I moan and spank her ass. Daphne moans and goes faster and harder.

"F-Fuck." I moan in pleasure.

Daphne moans and massages my boobs as she keeps riding my dick going harder. "Gah fuck, it feels so good." Daphne moans.

"Mmm you Like that baby? Daddy's dick deep inside you stretching you out?" I ask.

Daphne moans and grips the top of the head board. As she goes faster and faster. "Fuck daddy, I love it. I love you stretching me out." Daphne moans.

I moan loudly as I feel myself getting close to cumming. "Gah Daphne, slow down a bit. I'm gonna cum." I moan in pleasure.

Daphne cutely giggles and moans. "That's the point baby. I'm gonna drain your balls and collect every drop of your cum." Daphne says.

Fuck that may have been the hottest thing I've heard. I moan and watch Daphne as she continues to ride me.

"You close baby? You gonna bust your load deep inside my pussy?" Daphne asks seductively.

"Mmm I'm gonna pump you full of cum." I moan in Pleasure.

Daphne grips the head board tightly and rides my dick faster and harder. I moan loudly in pleasure as I feel myself getting close to cumming.

"Daphne baby, I'm gonna cum." Loudly in pleasure.

Creampie

I moan in pleasure. I can't take it anymore, I bust my load deep inside her. Daphne moans and cums all over my dick, we both moan as I continue to shoot ropes of cum inside her and paint her walls white. We both moan as I continue to pump her full of cum.

Daphne gasps and moans as I continue to cum inside her. "Mmm fuck there's so much." Daphne moans.

I help Daphne ride out her high, once we both come down from our highs Daphne closely climbs off my dick. Thick cum ooze sour of her and drips down her thighs and drips onto my lap, my dick and onto the bed and sheets.

"Mmm fuck." Daphne moans as my cum continues to ooze out of her.

Daphne smiles and plants a thank you kiss on my lips. “Thank you for your help babe. Mmm I really needed that.”

[kenny-the-ken]

Mine, and Mine Alone!

This was requested by a lovely anon, so thank you so so much for the idea!! I had so much fun writing this!! Send me lots of requests guys!! I love hearing from you all!! AGED UP CHARACTERS

Clyde fucking Donovan. He had been a thorn in Kyle's side for years now, ever since Kyle started dating y/n, and that was almost three years ago.

He knew Clyde was in love with you, but wasn't it obvious that you weren't interested? You were a kind girl, and he played on that fact. He knew you'd never want to hurt anyone's feelings, and he loved that about you, but he hated how Clyde used it for is own advantage over you.

All of this made Kyle extremely over protective, even getting to the point where his friends group were protecting you too, just to stop Kyle's brain from literally exploding every time a guys eyes lingered on you for just a bit too long.

And that was just in a day to day situation. Tonight was worse, oh one hundred million times worse, you were all going to a party at Wendy's house, Wendy had personally invited both of you and when Kyle seen how excited you were about attending, he knew he had no other choice but to come.

There you stood, your hand in Kyle's, sipping your drink and chatting to Wendy about god knows what when Kyle's interest peaked. The door had opened, and there was Clyde, sounding already under the influence.

"Douche bag at 10 o'clock." Stan spoke, ripping Kyle from his thoughts, simply nodding in response.

"Be better not try anything." Kyle whispered to Stan, you completely oblivious to what they were chatting about.

You all had been here for a while now, and much to Kyle's surprise he was actually enjoying himself more than he thought he would. He and the guys were all tipsy, laughing together like they did when they were kids, and you were taking shots in the kitchen with Bebe and Wendy.

"Hey, y/n, long time no see." You turned to see Clyde, leaning against the kitchen worktop.

"Hey Clyde, how're you?" You asked, your words a little more slurred that normal, causing you to giggle at yourself.

You were also too oblivious to realise that Wendy and Bebe had moved back to the living room where the rest of the party was, leaving you alone in the kitchen with Clyde.

This was his chance, and he wasn't going to waste it.

"I'll be so much better when I get to call you mine." Clyde replied, inching closer to you, and you slowly began to panic, your eyes widening slightly.

"Clyde, that's not going to happen, I'm with Kyle, I love him!" Your voice was raised louder than before, and your back hit off the edge of the worktop behind you, Clyde still approaching closer to you and you had no where left to go.

"You seriously think that a girl like you should be with a guy like that?" He questioned, one of his hands reaching to where your back rested against the countertop, locking you in.

"Clyde, move away from me!" You warned, your tone raised louder once more as you pushed him, which only made things worse.

"I've been in love with you forever, y/n, just one kiss, and then if you don't feel anything then I'll leave you alon-"

He was cut off from finishing his sentence as Kyle threw a punch at his from the side, Clyde's nose already staring to bleed as he clutched his face.

"Don't you DARE speak to my girlfriend that way, Clyde! And even better yet, don't fucking touch what's mine!" Kyle shouted, throwing another punch at him, knocking him to the ground.

"Kyle, I wasn't-" Clyde began, before Kyle cut him off once more, no way would he entertain this bullshit.

"Wasn't what? Pressuring my girlfriend to kiss you?! You've always been a pain in my fuckin' ass Clyde! Take the hint! She's with me, I won, you lost!" Kyle shouted once more, his arms engulfing you close to his chest, pressing kissed on the top of your head.

"Come on, y/n, let's go home." Kyle spoke, as you nodded in agreement, taking his hand in your own as he led you out of the house, sighing when you were a few streets away.

"He's so lucky I didn't kill him." Kyle spoke through gritted teeth, his free hand clenched in a tight fist.

"I'm just so glad you came when you did, god knows what he's have tried." You spoke, yours hands still shaking from the incident moments ago.

"You're staying in my house tonight, no ifs or buts about it, I'm gonna cuddle you to sleep." Kyle spoke, his hand detaching from yours to wrap an arm around your waist.

"As long as you don't mind?" You asked, a small smile on your face as your boyfriend shook his head.

"Of course I don't mind, my bed feels lonely without you in it." Kyle spoke, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead as you neared his home.

He quietly unlocked the door, not wanting to wake his little brother, and you both entered, heading upstairs to get ready for bed.

"My mom washed and dried your pyjamas you left here by the way." Kyle spoke, opening one of his beside cabinets and lifting your pyjamas out, placing them on the bed for you.

"I'll thank her in the morning." You said, taking your coat off and pulling your jeans down, then taking your top off. You could feel eyes burning through your flesh, and you knew that Kyle couldn't keep his eyes to himself, or his hands for that matter.

His hands found your hips as he pulled you to his chest, a small smirk on his face as he pressed kisses down your neck.

"I think it's time I remind you who this pussy belongs to, hmm?" He spoke, his voice low and raspy. His strong hands pushed you backwards onto his bed, a small gasp escaping you as he stood above you, pulling his shirt from his body and next unbuckling his belt, trailing his jeans from his legs, a smirk stuck to his face.

"I'm gonna ruin you, baby." He spoke, quickly removing your panties from your small form. He got down on his knees at the edge of the bed, pressing soft kisses up your thighs, before dipping his tongue between your wet folds, wanting to taste you.

"Fuck, Kyle!" You gasped, your hands moving to tangle in your boyfriends thick, tightly curled red hair, tugging gently.

His tongue was circling your clit, as he sucked gently on it, earning a long string of moans from you. And they were about to get louder, you felt his long digit circle round your entrance, before he pushed it inside you, curling his finger against your g-spot, his tongue still stimulating your clit.

"K-Kyle, oh my god." This only increased his speed, as he entered another finger inside you, pumping them quickly while curling them against your spot, and your back arched against the soft mattress beneath you, your moans growing louder and more frequent as you neared your release.

"I-I'm getting close, Kyle." You managed, his free hand moving up to tease with one of your nipples, his tongue licking stripes along your clit as you felt your orgasm wash over you, your back arching, and Kyle's name falling from your lips effortlessly in the form of moans. It was electric, your hands tugging on Kyle's hair, as he lapped up your juices, pulling his finger from you and sucking them into his mouth before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"That was incredible." You panted, Kyle's smirk still firmly placed on his lips.

"Oh baby, who said we were finished?" He winked, and you knew you were going to be in for one hell of a night.

[sturniolo04]

Protective C.S.

Protective!Dad!Husband!Chris x Wife!Mom!Fem!Reader

TW: Sexual Assault/ Rape mentioned

Dividers: @bernardsbendystraws

Chris for as long as you can remember has always been extremely protective over your guys' children, especially your guys' teenage daughter. Sometimes you worry about the day when someone or anyone crosses or messes with your daughter because chirs has stated that he would go to jail if someone did his daughter wrong.

"dad its only a halloween party i'll be fine"

your 18 year old daughter explains to chris as she is putting her final touches of makeup seeing she is sitting in you and chris' shared master bedroom.

"taylor their will be boys there and everything and you know boys only have one thing on their mind and that is s-"

chris huffs out to your daughter standing in the doorway of your shared room.

"okay dad i will be fine mom tell him"

you daughter exclaims turning to face you sitting on the bed as you shrug your shoulder non verbally saying there is nothing she can do about it because it is how chris is.

" yeah dad taylor will be fine you know until she sneaks off into one the guest rooms with brody and starts getting it on"

your brother states annoying your daughter

"mason no we will not jesus god get out"

you daughter screams out at her 10 year old brother throwing a pillow at him.

"dad me and brody dont even really make out"

your daughter says rolling her eyes as she puts her shoes on hugging you.

" just make sure you call me if anything goes wrong I mean anything I mean it taylor"

chris exclaims as she leave a kiss on his cheek before grabbing her keys to head to the party.

"dadd i promise"

"hey taylor"

her best friend greets her hugging her.

"hey you look amazing"

she exclaims admiring her costume pulling away from the hug as her boyfriend, brody hugs her from behind startling her.

"ahhh brody"

taylor screams placing her hands on top of his forearms that are gripped around her waist as he spins her around.

" BOO"

he chuckles placing a sweet kiss to her temple after placing her back on her feet.

"you scared me you idiot"

Taylor exclaims turning around to face him smacking his shoulder playfully as he chuckles leaning his forehead on yours.

"babe i dont know something just doesnt feel right"

chris mutters out as you and him are laying on the couch with his head in your lap in the living room watching whatever movie you guys chose.

"chris baby she's fine okay she's probably with her friends"

you reassure your husband combing your fingers through his hair.

"i know baby i know but something about brody doesn't set right with me I don't know what it is but he's seems off"

chris mutters out some more.

"Chris seriously taylor has been dating brody for months now and you think he's not good for you daughter"

you chuckle out looking down at him.

"baby i know but i dont think anyone will be good for my daughter she is my daughter"

chris huffs out putting his hands on his face in frustration.

"baby shes fine i will text her righ-"

you trail off in your reply as taylor comes bursting through the front door with tears streaming down her cheeks and what appeared to be bruises on her legs and subtly on her wrists.

"taylor"

chris questions sitting up from your lap as he comes over to his daughter bringing her over to the couch.

"does that hurt"

chris asks his daughter sitting her down on the couch confused because he didn't quite see the bruises littered under the t-shirt she was wearing which wasn't one she left in.

"mom"

taylor sobs out as you wrap her arms aroundher bring her head into your chest cradling it as chris kneels in front of her.

"what happend tay"

you ask your daughter as she continues to sob into your chest.

"babygirl did someone do something"

chris asks her clenching his jaw as taylor slowly sits up wincing a from the bruises on her thighs.

"bro brody"

she stutters out as chris shifts his sharp aggressive eye contact with you, you taking note of the rage and anger brewing on his face.

"what did he do taylor"

chris' asks her again.

"he took advantage of me"

she trails off looking up into chris' eyes letting out a shaky breath. As Chris' face morphs into a confused look.

"he raped me daddy-"

she sobs out

"he did what"

chris says through gritted teeth

"in-in the guest room an- i told him to stop he didnt'

taylor sobs out as chris stands up and starts pacing.

"chris"

you breathe out knowing he might pop off at any given time.

The doorbell rings. uh oh

"i suggest you go home before I do something I will regret"

chris seethes after opening the front door to be confronted with brody.

"her friend told me to bring this to her she found it under the guest room bed"

he responds bluntly with a smirk on his face a he hands over taylor's costume. Chris grabs him by his collar pushing him against the wall.

"CHRIS"

you shout as you and taylor stand up front the couch as mason runs in the living room hearing the commotion.

"DAD"

"mason come here"

you exclaim reaching your hand out pulling him into your arms along with taylor.

"you listen here you little sick bastard, you crossed the fucking line"

chris growls out going into full protective mode.

"she wanted it isnt that right taylor"

he smirks out.

"shut the fuck up dont you speak to her don't even fucking look at her"

chris shouts out moving his hands to his neck slowly tightening his grip closing off his airways.

"DAD stop"

taylor shouts genuinely scared as she runs over and places her hand on one of her dad's wrists.

"stop stop please"

taylor sobs out as chris slowly releases his grip from brody's neck as he lets out a rough exhale as he slowly steps away from him.

taylor stifles out a sob looking into brodys eyes as her body floods with anger and hurt landing a slap across his face

" I never want to see you again"

she seethes out as he holds his cheek from the blow.

"thats my girl"

chris mutters out.

"whatever"

brody cockily states walking out the front door as she shuts it behind her. As Taylor lets out a shaky breath and begins sobbing again.

"its okay i got you"

chris mumbles into his daughter's hair cradling her head in his chest.

About couple months later everything returned back to normal and that at least settled your nerves and at least you know now chris will and would do anything for his daughter.

Taglist

@mintsturniolo @dirtylittleheart333 @stayingstromboli @wh0resstuff @spicymuffins03

[1-800-kami]

agnes, just stop and think a minute

gojo satoru x reader (1.2k)

" you're gone but you're on my mind, i'm lost but i don't know why. ,,

warnings: CHAPTER 236 SPOILERS, reader and shoko r going THRU it, i wrote this during a mental breakdown, denial, semi-comfort at the end

a/n: when i found out about what happened i just spent 2 hours on social media just. watching everything gojo related and i kind of wanted to reflect my reaction through this word vomit of a drabble. i haven't cried at all but i just feel so devastated and oh my god it's been terrible. rest in peace to my bb </3

based off of one of my favorite glass animals songs (agnes) that i've always associated with gojo.

you like to think that grief in your life always comes and goes.

it’s a part of being a jujutsu sorcerer. each day, new people are trained to become one, and others die the same day. there are new beginnings, and people who meet their ends. you know sorcerers out there who have completely closed themselves off just so they don’t have to experience the soul crushing feeling of grief. 

it’s like a bud, they say. a bud that forcefully plants itself in your heart, and you can do nothing but watch it grow as it takes hold of every part of your being. people describe the feeling in many ways: a weight on top of your chest that won’t cease, or a part of your heart that’s been ripped away, and nothing in your life seems to fill the remnants of it. 

you’ve experienced grief in your life many times. loss is so normalized as a sorcerer that you’ve almost lost count at this point, but the ones that have hit you the hardest are the deaths of your closest friends: kento nanami, yu haibara, and geto suguru. they haunt your thoughts every day, up until the point where everything feels asphyxiating and you sometimes want to join your friends too.

you think that geto’s death hit you the hardest. 

you remember geto’s disappearance and the night parade of a hundred demons like it was yesterday. the hardest pill to swallow about his death was the fact that it could’ve been prevented. geto’s lifeless eyes made you see parallels from the weeks leading up to his disappearance. he just needed a push in the right direction, but then you couldn’t even do that and you didn’t see all the signs of his deteriorating mental health. you just felt so guilty, even though your friends assured you that it wasn’t your fault.

seeing geto’s body for the first time after 10 years made you wail uncontrollably–and you had to be forcefully pried off of him despite your screams of protest. the most prominent thing about his body were his lifeless eyes–and guilt coursed through your veins as you knew that they were probably devoid of life even before his death.

that guilt stuck with you for a long time, and you felt it until you thought that it would consume you whole.

that’s why shoko was hesitant to show you gojo’s body.

she knows that you would have an emotional outburst again, like last time. actually, she knew this one would be worse, because geto was a best friend to you, but satoru was the light of your life. he was your lover. your soulmate, even. the reason why you were excited to come home everyday. he grieved about geto with you, and you held each other when you both cried… usually when december 24th was nearing again. you think that, without satoru, you don’t know what you would do. you kept each other sane and grounded.

so you don’t understand.

why is his body in front of you right now? why are all your students crying around you and mourning gojo’s loss? it’s all the sorcerers are talking about right now, and you just don’t get it.

he’s the strongest, so why did he fucking leave you behind like this? no, no. he wasn’t supposed to lose that fight. he said it himself. he said he’d win, right? he’d win, and he’d come home, albeit injured, but home nonetheless. he’d celebrate his victory with you, and life would go on. so why did he lie?

that’s the only word coursing through your head. why?

you tried not to think about anything right now… like how there was probably so much crimson red on that battlefield. if you saw it, you’d think that the red would leave an everlasting stain in your mind, to the point where you’ll never forget about it. no matter how many times you’d wash your hands, all that red would still be there, and you hate to think about it.

you like to think that grief in your life always comes and goes.

people describe the feeling in many ways, but if you had to describe how you felt right now, the only word you’d use is empty.

you feel so utterly empty and hollow, that you can’t even bring yourself to cry or scream.

shoko’s surprised at your reaction. when she told you what happened, you became eerily silent. your eyes and gojo’s were practically identical. both so devoid of life, that all she can bring herself to say is, “im sorry.”

what do you even say at a time like this? what do you say to someone who’s had their heart ripped apart again and again as they watch each of their friends die? for you and shoko, it’s happened four times now. four is too much. you can’t bring yourself to believe it anymore.

no. this isn’t real.

this isn’t happening right now.

you move for the first time in what seems like ages, and you place your hand in gojo’s open casket, tucking a stray pearl white strand behind his ear. you observe him for a minute. he looks so peaceful, now that he doesn’t have to worry about his infinity or constantly being on his guard anymore.

“shoko, i think he’s hungry.” you say, feeling the ice cold veins in your chest stilling.

your words catch shoko off guard. “huh?”

“he’s hungry,” you repeat simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. you look away from his body and turn to leave. “i’m going to go buy kikufuku for him.” 

you suddenly remember all of the dates you’ve had with satoru, where you buy many sweets like kikufuku, but he always made sure to save you some. he’s known for his notorious sweet tooth—putting one too many sugar cubes in his drinks, but he’ll always share his sweets if it’s with you. even if it was kikufuku.

“it’s his favorite after all.”

you walk out of the funeral, leaving behind the confused and sympathetic looks of everyone there. shoko sighs at your reaction—she’ll let you go for now. everyone’s processing this in different ways, so she can’t blame you for how you’re dealing with satoru’s death. she’ll just hope you’ll learn to accept it soon.

on the way to get kikufuku, you spot a pet shop nearby. there’s a fish tank on display, and you notice that one of the tanks has a white betta fish inside. it’s the same shade as satoru’s hair, and you feel your feet moving on its own as you walk to the glass. you exhale with a shaky sob, placing a hand on it. i love you, satoru. i won’t say goodbye, though, cause i’ll be there eventually.

you make sure not to say “soon” because you knew that if you took your life with your own hands instead of letting fate choose your death, satoru would never let you hear the end of it. so you’ll keep living. you’ll keep living for yourself and satoru, even though you want to join them. every single day hurts and it also hurts to even breathe sometimes. though you know, somewhere out there, satoru and your friends are cheering you on with every step you take.

wait for me… okay?

the betta fish suddenly notices your presence, and swims up against the glass. so close, yet so far. you take that as satoru’s answer. it was like you could hear his voice directly speaking to you.

i’ll always wait for you, no matter how long it takes.

you smile for the first time today, even if it was barely a smile. you felt a familiar presence with you on the other side of that glass, even if it was just for a short moment, and it gave you what strength you had left to keep moving.

[not-xpr-art]

Len and Tommy's life told through nine photos ~

A fanart based on the Inside no 9 episode 'Bernie Clifton's Dressing Room' because I loved it so much!

(09/2024)

See below for close ups and unnecessarily detailed explanations of each individual artwork lol

First wanna say that I spent wayy too long on these (like 25+ hours), especially trying to make them look like actual old photos lol... also trying to get their likeness right for the various ages was really bloody hard lol, but hopefully each photo has the essence of each character even if it might not look 100% right pfft...

Second thing is that the dates & locations are very much my own subjective thoughts on their life and not particularly rooted in the canon of the show lol

Also I did go really heavy with the colour symbolism lol...

Ravenhill School, 1965.

The year they met, both are around the age of 10 (give or take). Len is 3 from the left in the top row, Tommy 2 in from the left on the bottom row (also I tried to include references to the other 2 League Of Gentlemen guys... Though I think the only vaguely recognisable one is Jeremy pfft)

Also shout out to @lapis-lazuliie for the idea that they met at school!

(side note, this is the least detailed of all the paintings not just because I was too lazy to render all those children's faces pfft but ALSO because of the significance of them being less recognisable or prominent in each other's lives in this point...)

I was planning on making another childhood/early teen photo but couldn't really think of any good subject matter that could also fit thematically with the episode (also the fact both are coming from poor families who would have had limited access to cameras in this era means we can just pretend that there are just no photos that really exist of them at these ages pfft...)

Photo booth in Leeds, 1974.

Both in their late teens, they'd (well, mainly Tommy) gone to a photo booth in Leeds with the intention of getting some professional looking photos only for Len to immediately make Tommy laugh once they got in there lol

The middle photo is covered in lines as Tommy had planned on throwing it away, only to find he couldn't bring himself to do it in the end... Is it platonic? Romantic? Both? Who knows, you decide lol! I mainly wanted it to be a candid moment between two people that love each other lol

(final one is them play fighting because that's kinda just what 19 year olds are like pfft... also I think photo booths technically gave you 4 photos? so let's pretend there was another photo that they did throw away for whatever reason lol...)

Rehearsals, 1979.

Deep in the midst of practising their routine for some of their first performances!

I'll admit this photo was mainly me wanting to include something more episode specific lol and also to get in some much needed heavy handed symbolism (the crease in the photo separating them, the bottle in front of Len's face, etc)

Polaroids taken at Tommy's flat, 1985.

In-between shows the two often spent a lot of time at Tommy's place (featuring that god awful sofa the previous home owner had left). I did originally plan to have them in the sofa shot together, but was finding it hard to figure out who would have been taking that kind of photo so figured it made more sense to make it shots they took of each other.

Also marks the beginnings of Tommy's weariness (& Len's over drinking...)

Outside the Glasgow Pavilion, 1988.

The morning of that fateful performance...

Ok not much else I wanna say about this other than the reference I used for the pose had Reece sorta awkwardly clasping his hands in front of him which I really liked but unfortunately in my art it just looked like he was trying to cover his crotch so I had to change it pfft...

Tommy standing at Len's grave, 2024.

The sixth anniversary of Len's death, and the sixth time Tommy has travelled across from France to lay flowers at his grave. Photo taken by Leanne from the inside of a taxi (I'd like to have had more references to her in these photos but was unsure of dates/ages where it would have fitted...)

She couldn't get her phone to not focus on the raindrops on the window as she tried to take a picture of Tommy at her father's grave but then realised that she actually liked the pathetic fallacy and had it made into a print anyway lol (look I'll be the first to admit that this is the least 'realistic' in terms of a photo that people would take, but I couldn't resist the symbolism of it lol...)

There were a lot more ideas for photos I wanted to do but for obvious reasons had to keep it to just 9 lol

Also will be posting these on my ao3 with snippets of stories to go with each photo so keep an eye out for when I share that link!

[claymoresword]

The Realm's Delight

Rhaenyra Targaryen x Velaryon Fem!Reader

Summary: The entire realm of suitors tripping over themselves to take Rhaenyra to wife and yet the only person she has eyes for is you.

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader

Wordcount: 1k

Warnings: smut, nsfw, top!rhaenyra

Note: first and foremost reader and rhaenyra are cousins clearly so if that bothers u maybe skip this one :/

been putting off writing rhaenyra for so long bc her characterisation is a little intimidating to me but i got over that fear finally (i think)

anyway i hope u enjoy this silly little thing and let me know what u think!

(sorry for the inaccurate high valyrian i dont speak the language)

You let out a yawn, the sheer banality of this morning's affair was shocking to you.

At Rhaenyra's request you were sat by her side as she listened to petitions from various Lords from all over the realm offering her their hand in marriage.

You scowl at the man before you, he had been going on about the state of his castle. Nothing of interest to you and certainly not to the Princess. If this was his idea of wooing a lady only the gods knew how he would be like as a husband.

"Bisa vala iksis uēpkta than aōha kepa."

(This man is older than your father.)

Rhaenyra's face contorts in amusement at your remark before looking down at her hands, fiddling with her rings out of disinterest.

"Tell me, lord Dondarrion did you think my great grandmother was as beautiful as they say?"

The Princess interupts the man mid sentence and you shake your head in disapproval.

Rhaenyra..

"This was half a century ago Princess" Lord Dondarrion responds, perplexed.

"Yes it was."

The entire court erupts with laughter, you stiffle a grin yourself.

The older man sulks before walking away, being last to catch on the Princess making a mockery of him.

"Bona iksin unseemly, dārilaros."

(That was unseemly, princess.)

Rhaenyra glances at you with a sly smirk before rolling her eyes.

"Issa unseemly syt zirȳla naejot jiōragon nyke zȳhon ondos."

(It is unseemly for him to offer me his hand.)

Boremund glares at the two of you. You throw him an innocent smile, very well knowing he has no notion of what is being said between you.

"Next!" He exclaims.

You were itching for these proceedings to conclude.

A young boy, he must have been no older than 10 and 2. You recognised his sigil, house Blackwood.

You fail to suppress your amusement paired with disbelief, an involuntarily laugh escapes your lips.

Rhaenyra mirrors your baffled expression.

"And now a boy." The Princess says with an exasperated tone.

"The Blackwoods are an ancient house with a formidable army. In the riverlands they once ruled as Kings." Lord Boremund states.

Rhaenyra nods, she decides to give the poor boy a chance.

He goes on and recites a rather well rehearsed speech. Voice trembling but otherwise full of conviction.

A rictus, albeit kind smile painted on Rhaenyra's face.

She is not convinced.

"If chosen as your match Princess, your days shall be easy and night's safe under my protection."

The boy says and you purse your lips, trying not to laugh aloud once again.

"Protection? The Princess has a dragon you dumb cunt."

One of Rhaenyra's many suitors exclaims from the crowd and the boy unsheathes his sword, summoning a challenge.

You roll your eyes. Whether it be a man grown or a little boy, they are all the same.

"We're leaving." Rhaenyra stands, swiftly grabbing your hand. Taking your leave by her side and matching her strut.

"Ser Criston, send word to the harbor and have Captain Oswin ready the ship for you."

"Lady y/n and I will leave on Dragonback. We will see you back at King's Landing."

Criston glances at you in confusion and you only give him a shrug.

"Princess, we're due in Bitterbridge in 3 days time."

Rhaenyra stops in her tracks, You, Criston and his men followed suit. The Princess glares at the Knight and he opposes for a moment before relenting.

"Very well, Princess."

--

Rhaenyra grabs your arm again forcing you to pick up the pace. You eventually find yourselves alone in a dimly lit hallway far from the commotion in the other room.

"Nyra–" You yelp, as she expertly pushes you up against a wall her hand resting against it.

She leans in capturing your lips into a searing kiss. You melt at the feeling of her mouth against yours, simply aching for her.

Rhaenyra's hands find your waist as she disconnects your lips. You nearly shiver under her intense stare. She watches your chest heave as you attempted to catch your breath. You notice her breathing just as heavily.

"I have been dying to do that all morning."

She kisses you again, this time your hand finds the back of her neck pulling her impossibly closer.

"Istin emagon ao sir."

(I must have you now)

Rhaenyra shifts her attention to your neck, placing wet kisses against it. You don't suppress the shiver this time and immediately feel her grin form against your neck.

"Ēdā nyke mōrī bantis."

(You had me last night.)

You tease, hand moving to rest on her shoulder.

"One night is not enough" She whispers before taking your bottom lip in between her teeth tugging at it. She kisses you again.

"With you it is never enough."

Your mouth opens wider and her tongue comes into contact with yours. A moan spills out of you directly into her mouth and Rhaenyra hums against your lips.

A rush of arousal shoots directly to your core. Rhaenyra would have her way with you infront of the entire court if she could.

Gods, you wish she would.

Rhaenyra lifts up your thigh and runs her hand under your dress resting it on your ass. You wrap your leg around her waist reflexively giving her easier access. A glimmer in her eyes as she takes the opportunity to slip her hand underneath your smallclothes, she could feel how wet you were as she swipes a finger through your folds.

"Rhaenyra, what if someone sees us?" You whimper as you fight the urge to grind your wanting core against her hand.

She leans forward, placing another kiss on your neck before sinking her teeth into it earning a desperate moan from you.

"I really don't care." She whispers and you feel your legs grow weaker.

Rhaenyra presses her palm against your center and you feel yourself move against her hand wantonly. She dips a finger into your entrance and you let out another moan.

"Ah– Rhaenyra, wait please."

You wanted to kick yourself for stopping her but you couldn't risk getting caught, not here.

Rhaenyra sighs before removing her hand from underneath your dress completely and you stand up on both feet. Your hands don't leave her shoulders however, needing the support.

"Issa daor litse."

(It is not fair)

You breathe out, after a moment's silence.

"Hm?"

"Lo nyke sia vala nyke could gūrogon ao naejot Zaldrīzesdōron se mazverdagon ao ñuha ābrazȳrys."

(If I were a man I could take you to Dragonstone and make you my wife.)

"Nobody would question it."

You suddenly feel tears well up in your eyes. Rhaenyra notices and places a tender kiss on your forehead. You quickly wrap your arms around her.

The both of you stay like that for a beat.

"Then take me to Dragonstone." Rhaenyra simply states.

You scoff.

"Do not mock me, Princess."

Rhaenyra lets out a chuckle before stepping away from you, intertwining your fingers.

"No, it isn't fair."

She lifts your intertwined hands to her lips and plants a kiss on the back of your palm.

She guides you down the hallway and the two of you resume your walk.

"Ivestragī's jikagon lenton."

(Let's go home)