#also...reminder that i take requests...if u like...

[matchpointfaist]

can we have more physiotherapist reader x art as a treat

part two.. or the one where they get dinner

eek my sweeties!

@cherrygirlfriend this is also inspired by your reblog on the original thank u <3333

a week later, art sent a car to pick you up at seven, planning an entire evening for the two of you, checking all the boxes. he wanted to impress you, despite you having already seen him at his lowest after each match, he wanted to show you how good he could treat you. the restaurant was nice, but not so nice that you couldn’t truly enjoy yourselves, intimate enough for some privacy but not stuffy enough to make you uncomfortable. it was perfect, really.

he met you outside, flowers in hand, a nervous smile on his face as you stepped out of the suv, looking around curiously. god, if you were beautiful in scrubs, you were downright lethal in a dress, your long legs on display for him, leaving him speechless. “you didn’t have to do all this,” you smiled up at him, admiring the flowers, admiring the way he looked in his suit, “you’re so sweet,”

“pretty flowers for a pretty girl,” he looped your hand around his arm as he lead you inside, nearly shivering at the feeling of your skin, “reservation for donaldson,” the hostess led you to a secluded table, a bottle of wine and two glasses already out, just as he requested. he pulled your chair out for you, reminding himself of all the ways he’d been taught by his grandma to be a gentlemen, smiling as he sat across from you. “this place is gorgeous,” you smiled, glancing around, “you really did not have to do all of this, art,”

“i wanted to,” he shrugged, “you deserve to be taken out somewhere nice, anyway. it’s the least i could do,” “you’re just sayin that because you like how i massage your shoulders,” you teased, sipping your wine, “oh! speaking of, i found my replacement. he’ll be starting next week,” “i didn’t want a replacement,” he rolled his eyes playfully, “but i suppose i trust your judgement,” “well if i was still your therapist, i couldn’t do this,” you took his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, “and i certainly couldn’t go back to your apartment tonight,”

“who said i wanted you to come home with me?” he taunted, but you both knew he was bluffing, could tell from the way his eyes trailed all over you near constantly. “be a shame if you didn’t,” you grinned, “you look really nice, by the way. i didn’t say that before,” “you look beautiful,” he smiled softly, “really. you look absolutely perfect,”

the entire night was perfect, really. your conversation never slowed, and he found himself, not for the first time, in awe of how easy it was with you. with other women, he’d overcompensated, always feeling like he had to prove something to them, or to himself. with you, though? words flowed out of him like it was the simplest thing in the world, never once concerned that you’d think he was weird or not funny or anything other than just himself.

you stayed so late the restaurant had started closing around you, other tables being cleaned off quietly as you two chattered on, oblivious to anyone but each other until the server very kindly informed you they needed to close up. art laughed, apologizing and leaving a $100 on the table, making you even more confident in your opinion that he was the kindest man you’d ever known.

he walked you to his car, opening the door for you and watching idly as you slid into the leather seats, his hand coming to your thigh the second he got in beside you. “do you want me to take you home?” he asked, tracing shapes on your knee absentmindedly. “we could go to yours,” you suggested, goosebumps over your skin, “if you wanted, i mean. i’ve never seen your house,” “you’re not missing much,” he laughed softly, “but i’d love for you to come over,”

the drive was quiet, music playing in the background as you hummed along just loud enough for him to hear, a small smile on his lips the entire way. he led you to his house, giving you a half-effort tour, watching as you looked around, taking in his space. “you’re like, really rich,” you finally said, laughing, “i guess i didn’t realize, but your house is insane,” “i’m not that rich,” he blushed, “i mean, i do well for myself, but it’s not insane,” “art, how much did you even pay for this?” you grinned, smoothing out his blazer, your hands pressed to his chest. “800,” he rolled his eyes, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of your hand, trailing his lips down to your wrist. “600 thousand?” you repeated incredulously, “that’s insane, art,” “mm, maybe,” he didn’t care anymore, abandoning the conversation as he kissed up your forearm, up the crook of your elbow to your shoulder, “does it matter?”

“well, no, it doesn’t matter,” your voice had gone all light and breathless, “i was just wondering,” “do you like it?” he hummed, pulling you flush against him by your waist. “of course,” you nodded, cheeks warm as you looked up at him, took in the way his eyes were half lidded. “then i guess it does matter,” he smiled slightly, brushing your hair from your neck, ghosting his lips over your pulse, “i like it much more now,”

“oh,” a soft, surprised sound left you as he nipped lightly at your neck, “should we- do you wanna go upstairs?” “thought you’d never ask,” he grinned, not hesitating as he looped his arms under your legs, picking you up to carry you through the house. “art!” you squealed, slapping his chest lightly, “put me down!” “and why would i go and do something like that?” he teased, pulling you up closer so he could kiss your forehead before starting up the stairs, ignoring your protests. he dropped you gently on the bed with a huff, smiling down at you as you pouted, taking your jaw in his hand lightly, “pretty girl,” he hummed appreciatively, “don’t pout,”

“maybe i don’t appreciate being thrown around,” you huffed, the smile in your eyes giving you away. “somehow i don’t think i believe that,” he teased, repositioning to you to join you on the bed, eyes and hands everywhere, “i think you’d like it quite a bit if i threw you around,” he grinned as you shivered slightly, leaning into his touch, “don’t be a tease, art,” “who said i’m teasing you? i’m just talkin to you,” he murmured, lips brushing your shoulder, “am i wrong, baby?” “mm, maybe,” you giggled lightly as his breath fanned over a spot on your neck, “you’ll have to find out,”

“now who’s being a tease?” he grinned, a satisfied hum leaving him as you took his arm in your hand, massaging it gently. “can tell i haven’t seen you in a week,” you tsk’d, “you’re so tense. you’ve been working it all week, haven’t you?” “been running drills, yeah,” he nodded, wincing slightly as you worked out a knot in his bicep, “just practicing,” “what did i tell you about pushing yourself?” you scolded softly, “you need a warm shower to loosen all this up,” “did you forget you’re my date and not my physio?” he teased, “but yes ma’am, i promise to take a nice warm shower tomorrow,” “you should do it now,” you mumbled, brows knit in concentration as you massaged up his shoulder, over the old surgery scars, “i can wait here,”

“you can’t possibly expect me to pause our date to shower,” he rolled his eyes, sighing softly as you hit a particularly tender spot, “i can wait,” “i’ll come with you,” you didn’t think twice before you said, the words sparking the space between the two of you. a boyish smile crossed his lips, “yeah? gonna shower with me, doctor?” “art, don’t be gross,” you whined, scrunching up your nose, “i’m not showering with you as your doctor,” “yeah? you showering with me as my pretty little date?” he hummed, still grinning as he kissed your jaw, “come on then,”

his bathroom was just as impressive as the rest of the house, all marble and soft lighting, a small sauna situated in the corner. he started the water, unbuttoning his dress shirt and hanging it over the door, smiling to himself as he watched you slip off your heels, setting them by the vanity. “you’re so beautiful,” he said almost to himself, taking off his slacks and undershirt, now just in his boxers. “can’t get this off,” you huffed, looking at him over your shoulder as you fought with the zipper along the back of your dress, “can you?”

he was all too eager, coming to your side in an instant, one hand settled on your low back as he unzipped the material, looking over every inch of your back as he let the fabric fall to the floor. you stood in front of him in just your underwear, a bra apparently not suitable for that dress, and shivered as he traced his fingertips over your spine, humming quietly. “go on, i’ll be there in a minute,” you said softly, missing his touch the minute he left. “don’t take too long,” he said playfully, stepping out of his boxers before stepping into the water, closing the shower door behind him. you joined him soon after as promised, pupils dilated as you took in the image of him under the falling water, “hi,”

“hi,” he let out a breathless laugh, pulling you under the water with him by your waist, “you get more beautiful with each second, i think,” “i don’t know about that,” you laughed softly, shaking your head, “here, let me-“ you took the shower head from its mount, letting the water run directly over his shoulders and upper back, smiling to yourself at his sigh. “gotta start taking better care of yourself,” you murmured, one hand guiding the shower head and the other massaging his back, “y’hear me? gonna end up havin to get another surgery if you keep on,” “i know what i’m doing,” he argued tiredly, back arching into your touch, “i’m not that old,” “didn’t say you were old,” you grinned, “just worry about you. i know how hard you push yourself,” “you keep touching me like that i’m liable to do anything you say,” he hummed, his head tossed back, “god, baby, you’re so good at that,”

you clicked the shower head back in it’s mount, your free hand going over the taut muscles of his mid back, the other reaching around to rest on his abs, “just like taking care of you,” you said softly, resting your chin on his shoulder as much as you could reach, “can feel those muscles relaxing,” he took the hand rested on his abs, gently guiding it lower, biting his lip as you exhaled a surprised, quick breath as your hand wrapped around his cock. “d’you always get so hard when i work on you?” your voice was low, teasing but sultry. he pulled you around, pressing you against the shower wall easily, “are you teasing again?” he pressed a warm kiss to your jawline, “be nice, baby,” “

“i’m always nice,” you protested, eyes falling closed as he trailed his kisses lower. “mhm,” he hummed into your skin, open mouthed and greedy as he worked his way lower. “i’ll show you,” you lowered to your knees before him, grinning up at him at his surprised expression, “i’ll be so nice, art, promise,” he sucked in a breath as you took him into your mouth, glossy lips parting just for him, all warm and wet and his. he kept a light grip on your hair as you took him deeper, humming around him as he brushed the back of your throat, your eyes watering slightly. “oh, fuck,” his eyes rolled back, thighs tensing, “you’re so good f’me, baby,”

a low, satisfied hum left your throat again, vibrating around him enough to have him gripping your hair harder, his hips bucking forward. your tongue swirled around his tip as you pulled back to catch your breath. your hand pumping the rest of him, watching his reactions intently. “need to fuck you,” he managed to get out between pants and broken moans, “god, you’re doing so good,”

he pulled you up gently, desperate to be inside you, pressing you against the wall until your cheek was flush against it, looking at him over your shoulder as he kissed you hungrily. he placed one hand on your low back to keep you steady as he slid inside you, a sharp hiss of breath leaving him, his brows furrowed, “oh, god,” he leaned over you, warm against your back as he thrusted slowly, snaking his arm around your waist to hold you up, “that feel good, baby?” he buried his head in your shoulder, kissing the taut skin absentmindedly. “so good,” you moaned, clenched tight around him, thighs shaking. he dragged his hand lower, pressing his index finger to your clit as he fucked you faster, “such a good girl,”

you were clawing at nothing, nails scratching over the shower wall as you struggled to stay up, his pace relentless. “i got you, baby,” he hummed, feeling your knees nearly give out, beneath him. he pulled out briefly, nearly grinning at the whine of protest you gave him, before pressing your back against the wall, looping his arms underneath your thighs. “what’re you-“ he picked you up fully, sliding you down on his cock, your legs wrapped around his torso, “oh, art, fuck,” he pounded into you, gripping your thighs tight enough to bruise, catching your lips in a needy kiss. he was obsessed with this new angle, the way he could kiss you and look down to see himself inside you, almost overwhelmed by it. your back arched off the wall, pressing your chest against his, your nails leaving searing scratches down his back, “oh,” he panted between kisses, “you’re grippin’ me so tight, baby, you gonna cum f’me? gonna cum on my cock?” “yes yes yes-“ you were a babbling mess, your legs tightening around him, pulling him impossibly deeper, “art- daddy, fuck!”

that did it for him. he came inside you with a hoarse moan, biting at your shoulder, hips twitching desperately. “oh my god,” he exhaled shakily, kissing your cheek, wiping the stray tear that had spilled as you came, “you’re so good, baby, fuckin perfect,” you made a content little sound, leaning into his palm that cupped your cheek, eyes closed and face flushed. “think i was made for you,” you hummed, warming his chest. he helped you down, making sure to hold you tightly so your legs didn’t give out, helping you clean up gently. he washed your hair for you, kneeling down with a laugh let you reach his, sighing softly at the feel of your fingernails against his scalp. after you were both clean, he wrapped you up in his robe, kissing your forehead and carrying you to bed. you’d given up on all protests, too in love with the feeling of his strong arms around you. he settled beside you in bed, trailing his fingers over your skin, his eyes growing heavy with sleep. “goodnight, art,” you whispered, kissing his cheek. “mm, night, baby,” he smiled sleepily, pulling you closer to his chest, falling asleep with his hands still trailing anywhere they could reach.

[1yr4sp10d3]

Hey! I saw you post for requests and I shall respond. I have no idea if you do Cecil x reader but I’ll leave this here for you to decide. Can I request dabbles or hc’s of Cecil x wife!reader who’s shy as heck and some domestic yet romantic things he does with her, please? Some examples would be slow dancing or some soft affection/intimacy(swf) and anything else you can think of!

grr grrr i need to eat this old man bro u don’t understand 😈

I’ve seen a lot of things saying he’s southern but just lost his accent working for the GDA and I totally agree (he kinda reminds me of phillip graves if that makes sense)

So he’d totally have like southern vibes

Fixing stuff around the house when he’s home, cooking and stuff

Dare I say he barbecues??

I think he’d prefer quiet dates at home since his life is so hectic most of the time

candle light dinner dates where he cooks for you both

Continuing with the southern thing, i feel like he’d make recipes from his childhood, roasts and different chilis and pot pies and LOTS of potatoes (baked, fried, scalloped, mashed, all the kinds of potatoes)

Slow dancing in the candle light after diner 😣🤭🤭

I feel like he’d have a nice house in the countryside to come home to after a long day, coming home to you.

It’d be a very domestic thing, i feel like he’d like the simplicity of it with his work life and all that

I don’t think many people would know about you except maybe donald

and that’s a maybe

he’d want to keep you a secret, not only to keep you safe from all the stuff he deals with at work but also because you’re his

not in a controlling way, but like you’re his, not anyone else’s, and he wants to shield you from the things he deals with on a day to day basis

you wouldn’t work, and it’s not like you’d need to with the money he brings in

not that you mind it. staying at home is nice. It’s simple, and it’s a constant. for both of you

even with all the crazy shit he deals with at work, he knows he’ll always come home to you

He doesn’t want you to deal with all the stuff that has to do with his job, like i already said

He wouldn’t want you to be in danger, and he knows you’d prefer it like that anyway. would prefer to be away from all that chaos and have the only thing you worry about during the day be if you have enough flour to make the sweet bread you wanted

wouldnt want you to be hurt at all. the most pain he’d ever want you to go through is a playful bite on the collarbone that makes you giggle and blush, pushing your face into his shoulder.

he’d be pretty protective, but not in a controlling way, like i said earlier

Sure, he likes it simple like that, but if you didn’t like it like that, he wouldn’t force you to. whatever you want, you get.

a/n: I hope this made sense 😭😭 i was just kinda yapping. ig that’s what hcs usually are, though. if you submitted a request, i promise im working on getting them done, but ive got like 21 just in my asks and like another 15 in my replies, and thats gonna take a while to finish 🙏🙏 but ill try my hardest. not complaining tho, i appreciate the asks bc i literally wouldn’t know what to write without them

[bluebells-and-dragonflies]

Imagine Astarion with ears so sensitive that he's never willingly allowed anyone to touch them except for you. Imagine laying next to him in your bed, facing him, lifting your hand up slowly for that first touch. His eyes on yours, the rapidity of the breath he doesn't need to take, but still does reflexively. Seeing that he's nervous, but that he's trusting you, feeling his shaking hand come to rest on your waist. The audible sound he makes- half a moan, half a gasp- when you finally brush your thumb over the soft skin at the tip of his ear.

You trace the long shell of his ear and watch his pretty eyes, deep red like velvet in the moonlight, flutter shut. He says your name softly, as close as you've ever heard him to prayer. You pinch his earlobe gently, and his hips roll forward involuntarily, the jut of his hipbone pressing against your thigh as he makes himself still. Heat flares low in your belly, but you tamp it down as quickly as possible- likewise, Astarion makes himself still against you. This isn't sex and won't become sex, you'd promised each other (though that's not to say that you won't explore this thoroughly during one of your hours-long lovemaking sessions. He is all about experimentation these days, after all).

You lay there, touching him in his most vulnerable place, with reverence and grace and occasionally disbelief that you could be here at all with this beautiful, horrible, ridiculous and wonderful man, that you could be trusted so completely. You take in his every shuddering breath, the flexing of his fingers in your shirt, the softness of his mouth when he presses his lips to yours and tells you he loves you. If you have your way, if he has his, if somehow your utterly insane lives hold together for a year or a decade or ten, it will always be like this.

[yayll]

omg PLSPLSPLS GIVE US GIRLDAD!DAZAI!!! Im literally so obsessed w ur work and luv luv luv reading it <3

just wanna say thank u so much anon for sending in the CUTEST request ever i have never thought abt it this way and when i finally did it was over for me. it wrote itself. THANK U FOR LIKING MY WORK THATS SO SWEET AHHH :') i keep getting ill so srry it's a lil late but i am so thankful for you trusting me w ur concept. mwahhhh.

~ a little something about girldad!Dazai simply trying his best, and loving it ~

Dazai never thought the day would come when his life finally felt complete. First, you happened to him and that was something he couldn't even fathom in a million lifetimes. It wasn't meant for him, and letting love into his heart felt like going against the nature of things. He struggled with it for a long time, pushing you away and making sure you realized this wasn't something worth pursuing... but you never relented, and he stopped fighting the longing for something more. You made him feel it was okay to want, to yearn, to need. And so came along every single repressed desire he had ever had. The love between you bloomed, and he thought this was the height of it all; The bandages he wore over his body were no longer grim reminders of his lack of humanity and the masks he wore on the daily. Those frayed wraps of fabric were symbols of love returning, of patience, of a lived in soul, and he no longer had to maintain them alone. He had you.

And then one day, he suddenly had a little girl in his life.

Another life to nurture and to start anew with, and his fear was that he yet again could not redeem himself from his past, but he was determined for her, for you and for himself to not let that be the case. When you gave him the most precious thing he didn't think he ever wanted nor could ever have, that was the day he vowed to be the epitome of a true figure worth looking up to. Osamu Dazai, the family man! Dad of the year!

... Except today, when he woke up late to take the apple of his eye to preschool. You were out of town, and though you eventually claimed to have faith in his solo parenting skills, it was a complete leap of faith. He comforted you for hours, how hard could it be? He can be both parents at once! How cruel of you to even doubt him. He remembers the look on your face when he slammed the door on you while holding your precious angel in his arms, both of them giggling while they waved you off as if they rehearsed it.

Aaaand now he realized why you were so worried. He looks at the time and he springs out of bed, running off to her bedroom. She even sleeps like a little lamb, he thinks to himself. He rushes at her side and softly turns her over.

"Little love, wake uuupppp..."

She pouts, shaking her head as she shifts in her sleep. He sighs and tries again a little more desperately.

"If you wake up, that will be really good for daddy, otherwise mommy will kill me! Up we go!"

He picks her up, and she rubs her eyes as Dazai does the most rushed morning routine ever.

He gets her dressed, though the socks don't match, and when he does her pigtails, they're lopsided. How do you do it?! And now he has to FEED her?! He stuffs a few handfuls of cereal into his mouth while giving her a proper bowl, but they're so late he thinks they should just start walking now.

"Take the bowl with you, we can do this thing called eat and walk! Yes?"

"'Kay, daddy!"

She simply giggles, not understanding how dire it is for her to make it today. She holds onto her cereal bowl as he grabs her backpack, both of them walking out into the street. Dazai's fast walking and her bowl sloshes a bit as she tries to match his pace and eat at the same time.

She's waddling adorably, and he gets lost in watching her carefully while also literally getting lost finding the school. He stops at the crosswalk, and thinks to himself. She looks up at him with a milk mustache, and her soft melodic voice rings once more like a voice of reason. She points to the right.

"That way! hehe."

Dazai has no time to fact check this, and at this point she's parenting him. You'd pass out of laughter if you could see him right now. They rush towards the school, and when he drops her off at the gate, he gives her a big kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, okay? Now give daddy the cereal bowl. How yum was that?"

She cheers, smiling wide.

"Yum!!!!"

He smirks, and takes the bowl. At least he got that right, that smile alone is worth every late start to his mornings. He waves at her as she enters the school, and forgets he's holding the bowl still, her teacher looking at him like he's deranged. You were so proud to hear that his first time parenting alone went so smooth! What you didn't know was that your little girl did most of the work keeping him on track. Still counts, right?

Another time he was exemplary was when he had just given her a bath and you were supervising to make sure he got her routine down.

"Osamu, that's the conditioner. The shampoo is over there."

You laugh while pointing at the clearly marked bottle. He rolls his eyes, smirking as he continues to rub it in her little swirl of dark hair.

"Oh please, I knew that. This makes it soft! And all detangled... It's a better routine, trust me. This is so much better."

He was totally bullshitting, he had no idea there was more than one hair product ever. This is the same man who used to find showers foreign and eat canned crab for every meal. You simply nodded, seeing right through his facade. But it was all so endearing watching your daughter splash the water on his face and play with rubber duckies, it was a dream come true. It was a dream you knew was more precious to him than anything, so you let him have his fun.

Once bath time is over, he places her on the bed in her diaper and walks out to grab her a change of clothes. Uh oh, he forgot today was laundry day! He walks back into the room a few moments later, thinking of how to pivot without having to bother you when he sees his little angel wrapped head to toe in a full roll of his bandages. His eyes go wide at the sight of the wrapped up toddler, and he laughs nervously as he rushes over while she has the time of her life squealing and rolling around the bed. He pretends to be mad.

"Little love! That's not clothes, silly! That's for daddy only, you have your own."

She simply disregards this, her mind focusing on how hilarious it would be if she just started making bubbles with her saliva instead. Dazai chuckles again, and puts his hands on his hips.

"Oh, such attitude! You know, l'm gonna have to do it... Remember when I told you about daddy's old job? I'm gonna have to get mean againnn..~"

He immediately launches himself onto the bed, tickling her through the thick fabric, and when you rush over you find them both just collapsed on the bed, Dazai counting her fingers and toes in order to distract her enough to unwrap her. Luckily, you had a spare onesie for her to save the day... even if it took the both of you to get her out of her improvised outfit. What a strong willed little one! You hoped this wasn't a special abillity developing...

It's no surprise she's a daddy's girl either, a mini Dazai at her core with your balancing characteristics on the surface. She was a little menace, sticking her tongue out at dogs every time she saw them because Dazai would do the same. He would even go as far as to help her dress like her hero! Of course you both had a stroke when you saw how tightly she wore that bolo tie, but the laugh after was worth the worry... After you scolded both of them... but it proved useless against two of the most experienced charmers you've ever met. You just couldn't win.

You especially could never get used to the sight after a long day of existing in the real world, simply watching her climb up to the couch and playing with Dazai's hair as she nuzzles herself into his shoulder, right in the crook of his neck. It was just as intense for his poor little heart as well. The way she'd yank on a strand while he pretended to be asleep was priceless, or when she'd stick her finger in his nose, causing him to have a sneezing fit soon after. It was almost karmic the way she both adored him and put him in his place, just like you.

"Daddy has brown hair because he drinks chocolate milk."

"Daddy stinks today. Throw him away!"

"Daddy looks like a mummy. Do you like mummies?"

"Who's Kunikida? He yelled at daddy today, it was funny!"

She'd babble on about all kinds of curious nonsense. You'd simply nod and agree. She was never wrong!

But what really got to you was watching her pass out on his head after hours of playtime, and the way Dazai would finally open his eyes with that smug smile of his, scooping her up and carefully taking her to bed. He tucks her in, whispering about all the adventures they'll have tomorrow and the days after. About all the rules they'll break together, and mysteries they'll solve when he takes her to work with him. He doesn't tell bedtime stories per se, but he spends all his time having actual conversations with her until she dozes off because he cannot believe this is a little extension of him and he's just as fascinated with knowing her the way she is with him. With life.

She's full of it, something he wasn't for a long time, and it brings him to tears when he sometimes thinks about it too long in private.

You're both his life and he didn't realize he could still feel regret like he does when he thinks of all the times he spent trying to end his own existence. It's a whole different world, and sure, he also loves to use her as an excuse to continue to slack off at work, and maaaybe he likes to sometimes force Atsushi to turn so she can pet him like the giant cat he is out of both their own entertainment, but dying is no longer the priority. It hasn't been for a long time, and he thinks he's doing an okay job... At being a dad, at being a human, at belonging in this world.

When he finally gets in bed with you, he feels whole. He also feels impish when he turns over and whispers.

"Maybe it's time for another, hm?~"

Oops!

[nexility-sims]

leonor is such a clown !!!!!! who knew !!!!!!

𝟭𝟵𝟵𝟰 🅐🅤 ‣ start \ prev \ next

[dilf-docs]

I Can Fix Her (No Really I Can)

jackson!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: jackson's loud mouthed spoiled princess has suddenly gone quiet. what or who could be behind such miracle?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (20s/50s), pwp, p. in v., oral (m. and f. receiving), brat taming, dacryphilia, pussy spanking, fingering, humiliation kink, dom!joel, sub!joel if u squint, soft!joel (look at that switch sandwhich fr), brat!reader (she's annoying and v mean, you've been warned), denial is a river so take this before the world mourns joel miller again

word count: 5,391 words

side note: new layout my citizens! will eventually update all of the blog but as for now, enjoy this one and the masterlist. quick thing, i just wanted to say that i had a very shitty week and for the life of me, can't find a way to make ttdik pt. 4 not oversaturated with angst bc i wish all men a very pleasant die or how to connect what i've written so far. note that this was kinda rushed; i feel confident of some parts and not the whole thing. just hoping it works for y'all! (based on this request)

Joel Miller isn't who he used to be before.

Life in Jackson has made him... soft. This version of him, tired of a life of killing and running, tainted with blood and regret. But he's now an uncle and a father. Well, used to be. Ever since Ellie had found out the truth and wanted nothing to do with him, he had somewhat become downright pathetic. Joel could be both Jackson's most useful man, even at his age, while also being their biggest wretch. Ah, yes: Joel Miller, the man who lived in the house down the street, alone and certainly worth the townsfolk's pity.

Maybe that's why you couldn't bother to be nice to him. In your eyes, a man like Joel just didn't deserve your time or respect.

But it wasn't personal, really. He happened to, unfortunately, be in charge of your patrol. That, in your eyes, made him your enemy: a person to be defied and picked apart. And the worst part is, in his current position, Joel just didn't have the energy to fight you back.

"You want me to cross that wearing this?" your protest comes in the form of a whiny pitch. "Ew, no. I'd rather be dead"

At least dead, you wouldn't be a bother. He rolls his eyes, rubbing his face tiredly. The rest of the group watches the interaction in silence, expressions pretty much the same.

"I promise 'cha, princess. Ya' wouldn't want that"

The nickname should irk you, but you let it pass. It is no news to anyone that you are indeed a princess: Jackson's resident little spoiled brat.

Sheltered from early starts of civilization's downfall, maybe your parents had done more bad than good trying to protect you and settling early on in Jackson. You had grown to be a pampered bitch who made Joel's patience wear thin. Of course, to keep him busy and distracted, Tommy had assigned you to Joel. And while he'd rather not spend his days on a house too big for a person, he too wasn't exactly excited about having to deal with you on your patrol shifts.

(If you could call them that. You did anything but patroling)

You cross your arms, petty. "I'm not moving unless you carry me"

Maybe your need to defy him also came, partly, because of this: the way he's looking at you right now, a quiet rage simmering in those big round brown eyes that remind you of a kicked puppy, but when they burn, they seem like a forest fire, old remnants of the hunter that had been tamed by domestic life and a broken relationship resurfacing.

It excites you.

All your life, people seemed to bend to your will-- a force of nature: to your cruel harsh icy wind. You kept Jackson down at their knees, but it wasn't kindness, rather your shoe up their throats what put them to your feet.

Yet, Joel... he could be a loser to you, but he was probably the only one you'd met to be insane enough to defy you. The only man who didn't succumb to your fluttering eyelashes, pink lips and princess manners. No, he ignored the way you looked at him and your constant begging for attention, leaving the job to those men who seemed to follow your every step, ready to be themselves a carpet for you to step in. He'd roll his eyes and walk past you like you were the most bland, boring and uninteresting thing in the world: not worth a second of his attention. Joel simply wouldn't entertain your spoiled attitude past replying to a few snarky comments.

And that revolted and aroused you in equal parts.

It's not like you could escape your obligation, but perhaps, the bigger reason you chose to not skip patrol like you used to before his arrival, is to see Joel Miller's sinking ships for eyes try to wash over your rebel flame.

"Be free to stay then" he replies, but you don't miss the way his grip on his rifle turns white. "I ain't carryin' no one"

"I can carry you" one of the guys from your group offers.

(You can't remember his name)

"Sure" you chuckle, victory smile dancing on your lips at the sight of him looking above his shoulder in a barely stolen glance, thinking you won't notice.

But you do.

Joel Miller fucking hates you.

After five decades alive, he simply can't stand the idea of breathing the same air as a spoiled little brat like you.

Joel's seen destruction, loss, hopelessness and blood up close, and the thought of you walking around like the world owes you a favor fills him with vitriol.

He's been alive for fifty-six years so he's simply just tired. Too tired to give a damn about your attitude, despite how you manage to press all his buttons every time you open your mouth.

He still remembers the first time he met you, how you laughed like people did before all civilization was destroyed. You walked with a confident strut, boots clicking against Jackson's streets, every step made with determination. Like you knew just where you were going.

He envied you, in a way. After Salt Lake City, he seemed to have lost his path, all in the name of love. Then, that warm feeling had turned cold and cruel like all things in this world ravaged by pain, and he felt even at more loss than the first time he experienced grief.

But you? You lived everyday with a dismissal so cold it seemed like nothing could hurt you.

He missed that part of him who just survived: hardened by the world around him.

But Jackson tamed him. Ellie made him soft.

And then you brought up that old dark part of him: the putrid black liquid that spewed through the cracks of his new character that made him loved by Jackson. The same one that made people fear one of Boston QZ's most brutal smugglers. It was that vicious anger, red on his vision like the ichor that would splatter on his clothes or cover his bruised knuckles.

He hated you for it.

But that was in the past, and Joel Miller simply didn't care.

Yet, you made him care. Outright forced him to.

In a way, it seemed like you enjoyed this: the banter of contained rage and practiced patience, dripping as a leak until it overflew. You'd shot your bratty remarks and petty complains until he'd turn around and see you. Then, you'd smile, like that's all you needed to feel better. Far superior. And he hated it. Knew your little game, and fed into it, even as he told himself he wouldn't. Like a drug: a destroying addiction.

Joel didn't understand why you took the time to enrage him, having even heard once when he was late for patrol (he overslept), how you talked bad about the, in your words, Lonely Pathetic Man From The House On The End Of The Road.

Joel Miller has been patient. God knows he has. But he isn't religious, and was never the type to let things pass by.

No. Joel Miller was born with impel, and no matter how many love he had to give, the world around him constantly reminded him of the power hidden behind the exertion over others, how alive he'd felt with the gift he'd been given by heaven.

He isn't patient. He isn't a fool. He isn't pathetic: and Joel Miller will take matters between his rugged hands.

Tommy had arched an eyebrow first, looking at just his and your name on the patrol schedule.

"What's going on?" he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his brother.

"Found a cabin deep on the forest" curt, "I'ont need lot'a people to scavenge the place"

In the end, he agreed. Who didn't? You, obviously, the reason so many before him had gotten rid of their obligation of you. To flirt with you at the Tipsy Bison? Hell yeah. To have you in their patrol team? God, no.

"Where is everyone else?" you cross your arms above your chest, bracing yourself because of the weather. "Also, isn't this climate not patrol appropiate?"

Joel's not dumb, of course he knows that-- he can feel his aching joints shiver and bones creak because of the temperature. But he also knows he's sick of your shit.

"Ain't you little Ms. Know it all" he mocks, brushing past you, shoulders clashing with the same harsh force the icy breeze does to your face.

"And you're an asshole" you're quick to counter, "bringing us out here in the cold. If you wanted to kill me, you could've made it easier for both of us and done it way back in Jackson"

He rolls his eyes at your incessant bickering.

"Watch y'er mouth" is all he says, the brat hanging dangerously close to the tip of his tongue.

"I'd rather watch my step, thank you very much" you purse your plush pink lips, annoyed. "Have you seen the size of this roots? I will trip and break myself"

He chuckles at your hyperboles and the way you jump in a rather exaggerated manner, more in amusement than irritation.

"Don't think ya' can handle all'at?" Joel taunts. "Gon' break like a doll?"

Doll. It hangs in the air, like the snowflakes that fall into your hair and his eyebrows, the white fusing with his own.

"I'm strong" but it comes out weak.

"Don't seem like it" he's laughing at you again, a sharp annoyed edge to it. "With all that complainin' ya' do"

You huff, your incredulity condescing in the air.

"What's wrong with that?"

"With bein' annoyin'?" Joel quips.

"With voicing out my concerns"

He's walking ahead of you, yet you see his shoulders slump, like he does when he disagrees.

"Those ain't concerns, jus' moanin' and bitchin'"

It's still inside the fun banter you're carrying, harmless, but for some reason, it strikes you in the face.

"If you can't stand me so much, why don't you quit on me, like the others?"

You may seem cold, but there's that cut that always bleeds. Or it may be the need for something that blurs the line between you and those survivors out there who've outlived the worst a man can endure.

Like Joel.

You just can't help wanting it all.

Joel stops on his tracks at your words, response barely above a whisper:

"'Cause I ain't a quitter"

As if that could bring any sense into what had started the moment he layed eyes on you.

You finally reach your destiny in silence, the old cabin hanging by a thread.

"This looks like shit" you comment out loud.

Joel lets out a laugh, a deep rumbling sound coming out of his chest. For a reason, red dust makes it's way into your warm cheeks.

"No, doll. In this world, this ain't shit. It's decent"

You don't miss the way your breath hitches and heart skips a beat at the petname. He doesn't miss the way his tongue burns and his jeans squeeze at the sight of you: powerless.

God, Joel could go to hell for this. (But he'd probably be fine)

"Decent? You're one to talk" it spills out, your fear attacking the only way you know how when you're nervous.

Bite.

You hate feeling weak. You hate how your own game has turned on you.

It seems, Joel Miller isn't just a pathetic man but one who knows how to play.

(You knew this. But now, it's real, not the image you touch yourself to during nighttime, and it's equally both exciting and scary)

The red desire for hunger is there on his eyes. "What's that s'pposed to mean?"

You tilt your head, tone feigning innocence. "I think you know what I mean"

He paces around the room, like your floral scent is too suffocating and the cold isn't enough to shake the fire that burns inside him.

"Spit it" he dares, stopping midtrack. You remain silent, so he walks over to you, face so close, some spit lands in your face. "I said, spit it"

"I think you're pathetic, Joel Miller" yet, for some reason, your heart wavers. What were you even doing? Never had you doubted yourself once, sometimes even finding pleasure in the wicked cutthroat words you'd spew, but today, as his face stands dangerously close to you, his breath ghosting over your lips as his eyes roam over them and you count his wrinkles, it feels wrong.

"'S that what 'cha think, doll?" he chuckles, leaning forward. His lips barely brush against yours by mistake, yet it's enough to send shivers all over your body. "Wanna know what I think? I think you're da' real pathetic burden here. Fucken annoyin' and unuseful. All you know how ta' do is complain' and be a bitch"

"A bitch?" your voice is loud as your roar back, probably because it's coming into your face with the force of a train. But that's how truth feels, and it hurts like hell. "Did you just call me a bitch?"

He laughs, bitterly so, equally irritated as fascinated by how easy it's to see you crumble.

Joel made you out to be this unbreakable force, but at the end of the day, you're human, just like him.

"And y'called me pathetic, s' I guess we're even"

You look crazy: hair disheveled by the wind, chest going up and down and that same craze look on your eyes.

"Fuck you, Joel Miller" you seethe.

It's a simple comeback. No witty retort, no elaborated plot. Just four words, yet it's the way you said it, venomous, with such hostility, like his presence alone made you sick. Your skin crawl. Like the thought alone of being equals couldn't pass through your thick skull, and you had to get rid of just the concept; an ofense.

You pull back, realizing how truly close you were. You then march to the bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

With Joel, there's always a first when it comes to you.

(The first man to catch your attention. The first man to show lack of interest or amusement to your well-known tactics that worked every time. The first man to make your skin crawl like seeing yourself in the mirror. Like you would stare until your image would imprint on your brain, and you'd pick apart every small detail you don't like about you. That was Joel fucking Miller, rolling like thunder, ready to strike over your walls, like he knows where to hit to make you crumble, as if the façade you've built is as much in vain as the hate you carry even with the easy life that's been given to you)

He may be the first man to make you cry.

"Come here!" he shouts, roaring voice reverberating against the walls of the cabin. He swings the door of the bedroom open, finding your satisfied expression as you sit over the old worn out mattress, wiping your tears quickly with a harsh tug of your sweater, coat lying on the dirty floor.

"What?" you ask, as if you hadn't started the fight five seconds ago.

"Ya' think y' can shout and then leave like that?" he spits, "you fucken brat!"

A weird wild spark settles in the pit of your stomach.

"I can do whatever I want"

(The fire. It burns)

He scoffs at your childish response. "Not when y'er under my watch. Like it or not, y'r ma' damn responsability, kid"

Now it's your turn to sneer. "Don't call me that. I'm not a kid"

Of course you fucking weren't: he's got eyes. But goddamn, didn't you act like one all the time?

"Good" his voice adquires a weird tone to it, dropping. "Then strip"

It's like the air's been knocked out of your lungs.

You scoff. "Excuse me?"

"I know you ain't deaf" tone stern, "nor stupid. Are you?"

"Did you just call me stupid?" you raise your voice. Was he going to pull out every single insult from the book? Fair, you think, after you had told him to fuck off in the way you did.

(You were aware your words shoot to kill when you were mad. You had a lot of regrets about that)

"I asked 'cha if ya' were. If there's no answer, I s'ppose that's it"

"I'm not stupid" you counter.

"What?" he's asking you to say it again, like he hasn't heard you.

"You aren't deaf" you repeat his earlier words, eliciting a chuckle out of him.

The windows of the cabin rattle, the cold winter slipping inside the cracks. You shiver yet stand still, not wanting him to misinterpret your body language.

As if you'd ever surrender to him. As if.

"I'm sick of your bullshit" he seethes, "thinkin' ya' can make a clown outta me infront of everyone else, and then look at me like I'm sum piece of meat. Now it's your turn"

"My turn to what?" but this time, your voice wavers. You walk closer, eyelids fluttering.

His uneven breath condensces in the air with a shaky gelid exhale.

"Y'e don't know what you're gettin' into" he warns.

You smile at his barely contained temper. "I think I do"

Joel's body is completely surrounding yours in the bedroom. Before you register, he pulls you by your jaw with his hand.

"Still thinkin' that?" he mocks, thumb pulling your bottom lip down, forcing your mouth open. "Answer me"

But he's pressing his finger on your tongue. You feel yourself starting to drool.

"Ya' really want 'tis, don't 'cha?" his eyes darken, "droolin' like a fucken cockstarved slut. Now strip" his grip tightens, "I won't ask again"

Your body shivers, but no longer because of the temperature drop. A treacherous jolt runs in between your legs at the very first instance of someone putting you in your place. It feels too good to backtrack, but the last remaining drops of sanity plead you to quit.

"Joel" you say his name like a prayer, and he thinks he'd like to see you beg. "I was fucking around-"

"Don't make me repeat myself"

You sit on the edge of the bed, getting rid of your clothes. It's like your mind has stopped working and your body belongs to someone else.

But you want this. Fuck, you had begged for this: sharpening your knife to make your words cut deeper with him until the bleeding was too big to ignore.

You wanted this. Craved it. Needed to satisfy whatever foreign feeling you'd now attribute to your rebellious and spoiled nature.

(You had never been denied anything, and even now, Joel knows this, but can't help and too give in)

"Not so loud now, are we?" he jests, "but 's worth the view, lettin' 'cha run your spoiled tongue off"

He hums with approval at the sight of your body, your pliant energy making his hard cock twitch in his pants.

"You like what you see, Joel?" you ask softly, despite your resistence.

He groans at that, calloused digits grazing the soft skin of your virgin collarbones.

"I do, princess" he answers, lifiting your chin up. "I'll show ya'"

He takes your hand into his bigger one, moving it right onto the spot between his legs.

"You've been bad, little spoiled brat" Joel's voice rasps as your thighs rub together. Y'er lucky I like that"

He pats your cheek. "Wanna make it up to me?" you eagerly nod, desperate for Joel's approval. You hate not having the upper hand, and a part of you thinks you'd get it back if you behave well. "Good girl. Now sit"

He sits next to you, patting his thick thighs. You salivate just at the thought, moving your body over his denim clad lap. "Right'ere"

"Look at 'cha" he parts your legs, a hoarse tks falling from his lips. Joel chuckles at the wet mess that's created. "So fucken wet and I ain't even touched yet"

You feel his rough digits ghost over your dripping cunt, just as his lips had done minutes ago. The teasing sets you on edge, thrill coarsing through your veins. Without warning, his big palm slaps against your cunt, and you feel yourself soaking your folds like you had never ever before.

"Fucken dirty whore. You ain't no princess, gettin' wet to 'tis" he mocks, "what would daddy say"

"Shut up" you sneer, but your body is full of hormones and treason.

"Not when I'm above 'cha, darlin'. Wouldn't wanna piss me off when I'm the one who decides if 'tis pretty pussy comes or not"

"What makes you think I'll take shit from you?" but it comes out as a whimper. Smack. A jolt runs straight from your pussy, stinging from the contact. "Didn't take it when we where in patrol, why should I do now?"

He laughs, darkly. It's haunting.

"'Cause you want 'tis. And I know you'll be a good girl for me to get it"

You feel yourself dizzy, head spinning as you land on the floor.

"Let's see if I get 'cha to shut up if that dirty bratty mouth of y'rs is stuffed full of ma' cock"

He pulls down his worn-out jeans, getting rid of his belt on a harsh pull. The clinking sound makes you rub your thighs together in a new found anticipation, instead of taking the time to run away from this, whatever the hell this is.

No. He's right.

You want this as much as he does.

(Isn't that the scariest part?)

"Ya' like what 'cha see, y/n?" he's smart to use your same words back, but it's the way he's said your name, like he was always meant to say it, or the angry throbb of his cock, what makes you drool at the red furious tip, dripping with rage and need.

"I think it's your dick who's more excited than me" you taunt, tracing the inner soft skin of his thick thighs. "Practically begging for me to lick it"

His adam's apple bobs.

"Tell me, Joel, when was the last time someone made this pretty big cock feel good?"

"Enough" his fingers grab your hair, pulling you harshly until he drags your mouth onto his cock. "I'm tired of y'er bullshit"

You aren't a stranger, he thinks, with the way you kiss his tip, tongue making a wet circle through the head of his cock. You take him into your mouth, pulling out in a second.

"W-what you do that for?" he asks, breathing rapidly. Strained voice.

You smirk.

"To watch you"

To watch how his eyes had closed as soon as your breath ghosted over his leaking cock, how he threw his head back and gripped the sheets viciously at just your shameless lazy circling. Joel Miller could be in charge, but God, wasn't he touch-starved?

(And for a reason, that was so fucking hot. And, in a way, adorable)

"J-just 'cause I'm-" he cuts himself off, probably out of need or out of embarrassment. "You're not in charge, so don't fuck around with your chances, slut. Imma show you y'r place real quick"

His grip tightens in your hair, forcing himself back into your mouth. Joel was punishing, with the way he's pushing your head down until it was at the base of his cock. You gagged for a moment, eyes closing at the weight of his thick girth on your tongue. 

"Takin' it like a champ, princess. Usin' that mouth of y'rs for good" and then, with a softer tone he adds, "like ya're made for me"

You moan around him as he starts fucking into your mouth, pulling you off quickly, saliva slipping out of your mouth as you gasp for air. 

"Joel" you whine his name, legs pressing together in order to get any friction. 

"Now you beggin'? 'S gonna take more than jus' that, doll" he taunts, but there's a certain wicked softness to the way he traces your cheek as you scramble an attempt. "Try harder, princess"

"I'm sorry, Joel-"

He moves his head, clearly dissatisfied.

"Not Joel. Ya' call me sir when I fuck you"

A mewl escapes your lips.

"Sir" comes out like a faithless prayer, begging to be heard. "I'll do anything, sir, please, touch me"

"Al'ight, but still, it ain't 'nough"

Oh.

The hot tears in the corner of your eyes shouldn't arouse him this much, but the watery promise makes his cock twitch.

"I-I'll do anything, I swear" you beg, the salty tears stream down your cheeks in cascades. "It hurts, Jo-" you whine, "sir, please. Just fuck me goddamit!"

Your once poised voice, now reduced to a whimpering begging mess. Your red rimmed eyes, beginning to puff. It's the way a gloss seems to coat over them, making you look like a doe-eyed deer and not the brat who challenged his every decision and word.

Fuck, isn't he aroused.

"Lookin' so pretty when you cry" he smiles, but instead of wiping the tears, it's his tongue that licks them off your face. "You beggin' that bad to take my cock"

You nod, eagerly so.

"Please, Jo- Just, please. D-don't make me beg" your face feels hot and wet again, "I-I can't take it anymore. Just fucking give it to me!"

"Easy, baby. Can't understand a thing you sayin'" Joel teases. "Where your manners at, besides?"

"Please, sir" he gently pulls you up, humming in satisfaction.

"Goin' crazy over my cock, baby? Y'sure have a nerve to call one pathetic if you gon' act like this, you little brat"

But he is the one moaning when his lips cature your mouth with a fierce impulse, like he wants to devour you whole and swallow your vocals, as to never speak up again.

(But then, he wouldn't hear his name on your sweet albeit snotty voice, and that's a privilege he can't forbid himself from, no matter how annoying you can get sometimes)

"Please" you whisper one last time. He wipes a stray tear with his rough thumb. "I'm yours"

"See, baby? It ain't that hard to shut that mouth of y'rs"

He guides you to the old bed while renewing the kiss, tongues now engaged on a battle for dominance, like even without using your words you'd still need to assert your power over the other. You moan into his mouth when your body slams against the mattress and Joel lands on top, his weight sinking you in the old bed, that creaks.

"I just want to be a good girl for you" you whimper.

"You sure of that? Not gon' be a brat?" and despite his harsh tone that seems to humiliate you, his wandering fingers are gentle with each touch, like if he were to put any more force, you'd break. Joel thinks it's not necessary with you: just with you begging for his cock, he's broken you.

"No, sir" and then you whimper as his mouth dives to the collarbones you had taunted him with before. Joel takes his time, inhaling the musk and savoring the sweet of your skin. Needy whines leave your lips, and he's having the time of his life seeing you surrender so easily, like you had no idea what limits to push, where they'd take you and how you'd pay for that.

"C-Can I touch you?" you whisper, hands itching to tangle on his grey parted hair. He chuckles at the eagerness and tenderness you don't seem aware of.

"S' you can be sweet if ya' want to, huh?" he leaves a fluttering kiss to your chin. "Needy and desperate too. Do ya' want to touch, princess? Remember to use y'r words"

"Yes, sir. I-I want to touch you"

"Thought I disgusted you, hmm? I take you've learnt y'r lesson now?"

"Yes, I've learned. Please, sir, won't do it again" you plead.

"I'll allow ya' to touch, doll" he gives you a smirk, "but 'ts all you get for now"

He lets your hands cling to his coat, taking it off. Then, you proceed to his buttoned shirt, fingers flidding with buttons until you grown annoyed and desperate, pulling the fabric over his head with need.

"Look at 'cha" but there's only adoration, proven so when he starts to kiss the trail of soft skin that goes from your neck to your stomach, making you squirm. "Easy, baby. 'M gettin' down there"

He finally reaches your core, kissing the inner side of your thighs with wet and sloppy lips. His hot breath tingles over your clit, and a beat later, his mouth presses into your cunt, your back arching at the cold contact of his chapped lips against the humid hot of your folds.

You muffle a moan, embarrassed at the whole situation.

"Ain't need to worry 'bout nothin', doll. Nobody can hear us" he grins, tongue flicking your clit. "Wanna listen to your pretty whimpers as I make 'cha feel good"

You cry out of pleasure, the sound escaping past your lips. Joel has a laugh.

"Good girl"

Joel rewards you with another series of minstrations on your bud, licks made with determination only the expert man knows of. He then slides one finger into you, slowly moving it in and out of your soaked trembling heat. 

"M-more" you beg, eager to get more fingers inside you. "Please, more, sir"

You buck your hips to try to get closer to him, meeting his thrusts.

Joel tuts, "What're you doin', spoiled brat? Did I tell ya' to move? You were doing such'a great job... guess I gotta punish you-"

"No!" you shout. "Do anything you want, but touch me, please- touch me!"

He introduces a second finger, raising his brow at the immediate way you clench around him. Joel curls them, robbing another moan out of you.

"Feels good?" you can't answer, as a hard thrust robs another moan from you. "But I'ont want 'cha to think we done, princess. Think I'd let you come, jus' like that? After all's happened?"

"Need you" you tug him closer with your arms holding onto his. "Joel, sir- please"

"Oh, princess" he smirks, "I think you don't know what you askin' for"

Joel grabs his hand around his length, coating the tip in your slicky juices, and then, he presses his length into you in one thrust.

"You're big-" you pant as he gives you time to adjust to his size. Joel then picks up an unrelenting pace that makes moans spill out of you like a fountain, the pace of his thrusts sending you closer and closer to the edge. 

"N-need to-"

"Don't" he seethes. "Ya' won't 'till I tell ya' can"

All you could do is moan, helplessly pinned between his body and the bed. Your whole body shakes in an effort to contain as his hips loose their rhythm, his groans louder as he gets closer and closer to the edge. 

"Al'ight. 'Cause you've been good" his cock drives through your walls with rhythmic melodies. "Cum, princess, but when ya' do, look at me"

You're seeing stars the moment your toes curl and his head falls to clash against your forehead.

(The beads of sweat roll down out of him like trails to follow, and his scarred rugged skin doesn't compare to your soft one, painted with the maroon of his bites and kissing at the skin of your collarbone. The dried up trails of tears. Your begging and desperate voice. His name on your lips)

It only takes a few more thrusts before he spills in you, cock twitching until every last drop of thick hot white cum is pumped into you.

Joel then pulls out gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead before flopping onto you, the mattress dipping even further. With his hand, he removes a stray strand of damp hair, putting it behind you ear with such tender kindness, your heart strings pull.

"In fact, I want ya' to look at me next time y'even think 'bout defying me. See if that mouth of y'ers can talk after 'tis"

A week later, you're back at patrolling.

"Anyone got anythin' to say?"

The group looks at you. You're about to open your mouth, but Joel cocks an eyebrow.

Just like that, and you're gone. Great job, y/n.

"Whatever" you sound meek as you push past him, yet he catches a glimpse of your warm cheeks. "Let's go"

The rest are too stunned to speak, the silence only cut off by Miller's laugh.

"Would 'cha look at that?" he whistles. "Ain't nobody tell ya' miracles don't happen anymore on this goddamn world!"

credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @chappellsroans

[simplygojo]

Pussydrunk ⸺ Choso Kamo

author's note ⸺ Saw some crazy Choso art this morning and I know that the world can always use more Choso smut...so enjoy. Also yes-he does thank you for your pussy... pairing ⸺ Choso Kamo x reader teaser ⸺ '"You let out a breathy laugh and tilted your head slightly at him, “You’re thanking me? For letting you eat me out?” Choso gave you a goofy little grin, his face still buried in your legs as he responds with exaggerated sincerity. “Of course..."' content ⸺ 18+ SMUT, MDNI, pussydrunk choso, he is OBSESSED, cunnilingus, shy emo boy turned feral, oral sex (reader recv.), choso is such a nice boy he thanks u for ur pussy, he lovesss to eat you out but let a guy have hobbies!! overstimulation, reader has a vagina, reader uses female pronouns

materlist || request guidelines || commissions || fic image artist ||

Choso is perfect. Too perfect—really. 

Your sweet, soft-spoken, emo boyfriend who always knows exactly what you need. The one who texts you to remind you to drink water, gets you your favourite snacks even when you don’t ask, and holds your hand like it’s the most sacred thing in the world. 

He’s calm, attentive, and gentle—everything anyone could want in a partner.

But there’s something about him—a hidden streak that surfaces only when you’re alone.

And only when he’s between your legs.

It’s almost comical how the man who blushes when you tease him in public—who can’t take compliments without fumbling for words, turns into someone so utterly unrestrained when he’s got his face buried in your cunt. 

Your shy, sweet Choso becomes something else entirely. Feral. Hungry. Completely pussydrunk.

It’s not just a casual thing for him—it’s a fixation, a need. 

The way his pupils blow wide whenever you start to undress or the way his hands unconsciously flex when you shift your legs apart? He’s thinking about it. How soft you’d feel, how warm and wet and impossibly sweet? Yep, he’s thinking about it…and he never tries to hide it.

It starts so innocently every time, just like it had tonight, his long fingers brushing your thighs as he kisses your inner knees. 

He whispers something tender, something like, “You’re so beautiful,” as his lips trace paths closer to where you’re desperate for him.

His words always make your cheeks flush, but before you can respond, he’s dipping his head lower, brushing his nose along the seam of your panties. 

You let out a quiet gasp, hips twitching when his tongue flicks out to trace the damp fabric.

“Already wet for me,” he says, and there’s something darker in his tone now—a hint of what’s to come. 

He hooks his fingers into the waistband, sliding your underwear down your legs with deliberate slowness, and his breath catches when you’re finally bare before him.

Then the first taste hits his tongue, and that’s it—Choso’s gone.

Your thighs barely get the chance to press around his head before his hands grip your hips, pulling you closer, deeper, so he can bury his face in your pretty cunt.

The first press of his tongue against your folds makes your back arch off the bed. 

Choso groaned like he’s the one being pleasured, and the sound vibrated against you, drawing a soft cry from your lips. His hands tighten on your hips, pulling you closer, and he buries his face in you like a man starved.

He alternates between teasing your clit with quick flicks of his tongue and plunging it back inside you, each movement pulling a new, breathless whimper from your lips.

The soft squelch of his mouth working on you made your thighs twitch, but Choso didn’t stop. 

If anything, he groans louder, the sound reverberating through your core as his tongue dips back down to your entrance. He licks into you slowly, savouring the way you tighten around the soft, wet muscle.

You try to push him back once you’re trembling, overstimulated from his relentless attention, but Choso isn’t having it.

“Just once more,” he breathed against your skin, dark eyes flicking up to meet yours. They’re glassy, unfocused—completely drunk on you. “Please, baby. Can’t stop. You taste so good.”

And how could you say no to that? To the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters? He is just so damn pretty. I–

His hands roam your thighs, holding them open as he devours you, sucking your clit between his lips and humming with satisfaction every time you cry out. 

When your fingers thread into his hair, pulling hard enough to make him hiss, he only doubles down, tongue thrusting into your heat like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you.

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling back just enough to catch his breath. His lips and chin are coated in your arousal as he looks up at you with his dark hooded eyes—absolutely pussydrunk.

He looked wrecked—flushed cheeks, mussed hair, chest heaving like he’s the one who just came—and yet, he’s still leaning forward, nuzzled against your thigh, leaving lazy kisses like he can’t help himself.

“You okay?” You’d ask, voice shaky, and his lips curl into a sheepish smile as he rests his cheek on your leg.

“More than okay,” he murmured, pressing a kiss just above your knee. “You’re perfect. Thank you for letting me do this baby..”

You let out a breathy laugh and tilted your head slightly at him, “You’re thanking me? For letting you eat me out?” 

Choso gave you a goofy little grin, his face still buried in your legs as he responded with exaggerated sincerity. “Of course. You’re like... a goddess, and I’m just the humble servant here, living the dream.”

You snort at his attempt to be dramatic, your hands running through his messy, dark hair. “Well, I’m glad to know you’re really living right now.”

He peeks up at you, giving you a wink that’s way too cocky for his usual shy self. 

“Absolutely. You have no idea how much this means to me,” he says, and you can’t help but giggle at its ridiculousness.

“Choso, you’re so extra sometimes.” You roll your eyes, but it’s obvious you’re enjoying it.

His lips curl into a grin again as he presses another kiss against your inner thigh. “What can I say? I don’t hold back. I’m committed, you know?”

You gave him a raised eyebrow. “Committed, huh? To eating me out?”

Choso nods earnestly. “Yes, baby. To you. This is my true calling.” He lets out a dramatic sigh and presses his face against your leg again like he’s contemplating his life choices.

You laugh out loud at his melodramatic antics, but before you can make another joke, he dives back in, his tongue moving expertly against your clit with a series of teasing strokes. 

And that is how you and your cutie-emo-pussydrunk man spent the next few hours…

[bigfatbimbo]

I crave Stanley pines carnally and ur writing is so incredibly good so if u wrote literally anything about him I would start jumping for joy and skipping around giddily btw

a/n — I LOVE YOU STANLEY PINES, I need more requests of him so bad.

summary — [FLUFF] Stanley Pines x Reader headcanons

۫ ꣑ৎ I feel like a relationship with this man would be relatively low maintenance, like as long as he’s with you, he can’t complain.

۫ ꣑ৎ He would absolutely love to buy you things, gift giving would be his main love language. Even, especially, gifts he doesn’t have the money for.

ex. Stan holds out a beautiful pearl necklace, dangling it in front of you, chest puffed.

“Stan, you shouldn’t have!” You examine the necklace further, “You really shouldn’t have.. wait, where’d you get this?”

He looked to the side, “Borrowed it. From a friend of a friend… ‘s house— What am I, made of answers? I dunno, it fell from the sky or something.”

۫ ꣑ৎ I also don’t think he’d necessarily be the mushiest or partners. He makes it clear he loves you in other ways.

۫ ꣑ৎ That being said, he likes pet names, but only in private and is severely embarrassed about it.

۫ ꣑ৎ It would never be boring with him. I mean the entire pines family but especially him.

۫ ꣑ৎ Watch a fancy dinner escalate into smuggling pugs across the boarder while being chased by old prison ‘buddies.’

۫ ꣑ৎ Other nights being cuddled up watching terrible soap operas by the tv, trying to match Stan’s intensely involved energy.

۫ ꣑ৎ All that aside, he’d treat you so nice, and then act like it’s nothing.

ex. “Aw, are those flowers for me?”

“Oh yeah, the color reminded me of your eyes, kinda. It’s not much, take ‘em before I change my mind.”

۫ ꣑ৎ He’s actually pretty good at flirting but he thinks he’s so absolutely slick that it ends up being more cute then hot.

۫ ꣑ৎ Honestly, will literally never let anything happen to you, and is probably pretty protective.

۫ ꣑ৎ Reacts in weirdly emotional ways to genuine affection, might even tear up.

[chxrrywines]

₊˚⊹♡ mean | sam winchester x reader

requested - heyy could u make a sam x reader thing where he fucks rlly roughly but he’s really sweet during aftercare bc the idea that sam is rough during but sweet after makes me weak in the knees🫠🙏 (anon)

a/n - this is. probably the most filthy thing i’ve written. it’s just filthy smut. with a hint of sweetheart sam at the end. i need him so bad it’s not funny. still working on my longer plot fics but i wanted to get this out today to get back into writing!! hopefully you enjoy :) would very much appreciate feedback! <3

cws - fem!reader, 2.4k, nsfw 18+, meandom!sam turned soft!sam, oral f!recieving, praise, very mild choking, condescending words, p in v, mild overstimulation, tears, aftercare, fluff

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

She was convinced that Sam’s mouth was a whole new kind of heaven.

He’d already made her cum once with his mouth alone, large hands pressed into the plush of her thighs to keep them spread, her hips stilled, which were twitching with every sweep of his tongue. He was skilled, drawing the pleasure out of her like it was nothing. Sam had easily spent fifteen minutes down there, eating her out like a starved man, like it was all he wanted.

And she didn’t know how she was still breathing. There was a relief that ran through her that Dean and Castiel weren’t in the bunker that night, because even though they were shut away in the privacy of their room, she was sure that she would’ve been heard. Sam had been pulling noises out of her all night, obscene lewd sounds that she would’ve been embarrassed about being heard if it wasn’t Sam with her.

He always made sure that as much as he made her feel, none of it was embarrassment.

His tongue flattened against her, licking a stripe up between her folds until he pressed against her clit and she shuddered, a horribly whiny sound pushed from her lungs when he closed his lips around the bead and sucked, like he was trying to pull the life out of her. Her hips jolted, unable to go anywhere as he had her pinned down, and she was practically seeing stars as Sam worked down there. She wondered if he was even breathing.

“Sam- oh my god—” She whimpered, hissed in a breath when he licked back down to her entrance and his nose nudged against her clit, stomach clenching as she reached her hands down to grasp onto his hair, fingers curled into the soft strands.

And then he pulled away.

His hands left her thighs as his mouth left her, but she didn’t have time to whine her complaints at the loss of sensation as his long fingers curled around her wrists, yanked her hands out of his hair. “What did I say, huh?” The tone of voice made her pussy clench around nothing. “Hands to yourself. You’re pretty bad at listening, baby.”

Sam shifted over her, his face over hers as he pushed her wrists down onto the pillows above her head, and she almost squirmed when she saw the look in his eyes, the way his lips were wet with her.

“Are you listening?” He squeezed her wrists as a reminder, and her eyes quickly flickered back up to his eyes. “Do I need to tie you up, or will you keep these here for me?” She knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do it. Sam could be such a soft lover — he’d kiss every inch of her skin, whisper praises and compliments, tell her he loved her a thousand times as he made love to her. But he could also be like this, mean and demanding as he fucked her silly over and over. She wasn’t sure which she liked more.

“I’ll keep them there.” She breathed out, her voice still a little too whiny. He’d gotten her so close to cumming again, the lack of stimulation was driving her crazy, her cunt throbbed as she stared up at him.

“Oh yeah?” Sam narrowed his eyes like he didn’t believe her, and let go of one of her wrists to take both into one of his large hands. Her eyes left his face to follow his second as it dipped down between them, fingering at the waistband of his boxers, until she heard a sharp, “eyes on me.”

Her gaze quickly flickered back up to his face. “See? You can be good sometimes, can’t you?” Sam cooed, boardering on condescending, as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her mouth, allowing her to taste herself. “You just need some reminding, don’t you, sweetheart? Get so lost in that pretty little head of yours when I’m making you feel so good.”

She’d been so distracted by watching his face, head spinning with his words, that she didn’t realise that he’d freed himself from his boxers until she felt the head of his cock nudging between her folds, gliding easily against her with the slick and spit collected there, and she mewled at the feeling, eyes squeezed shut as he nudged at her clit.

“Eyes open,” his hands left her wrists — which she knew now to keep still — and his fingers splayed across her jaw, squeezing unkindly until she looked up again. “Don’t make me tell you again. You wanna be good for me, don’t you?”

She nodded dumbly, sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth as he rubbed her clit with his cock. Teasing her. “Mhm, I will.”

“You will?” Sam gave her jaw one more squeeze, just for good measure, before he wrapped his fingers around the bare skin of her throat. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t put any pressure, just held her, but the threat was there. The head of his cock rested up against her slickened entrance as his head dipped down, lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “what’s your colour?”

They had a pretty rigid safe word system set out — it was something he went over with her every time they had sex, especially like this, when he was mean and grabby and knew that she wouldn’t like it every time. If she so much whispered the word red he’d be up and off of her before she could blink.

But all that left her words was a whiny, “Green, please Sammy.”

She felt his lips curve up against her ear as he smirked. “Good girl.”

Without warning he pushed into her and she sucked in a sharp breath, her own fingers grabbed at each other in an attempt to keep her hands still, and she shoved a breath out of her throat. He’d worked her open with his fingers when he’d been settled down between her legs, but she still felt the stretch, the burn as he settled his cock deep inside of her, and for a moment she had to remember to breathe back in.

“Fuck honey,” he grunted in her ear, fingers gripped her throat just slightly tighter, still only enough for her to feel pressure. “So tight for me, baby. Can barely take it, huh?”

He pulled back before he rutted back inside and she whimpered, squeezing her own fingers together so tightly so she didn’t break his rule. Needing to hold onto him somehow, though, her thighs clamped harshly around his hips, already trembly from the first orgasm he’d pulled from her.

He thrust in again, and again, and again, and soon she saw stars, gasping and whimpering with every drag of his cock against her gummy walls, pleasure rippling through her in waves that made her stomach clench, her cunt clamped down so tightly around him it was a wonder he could move at all.

“So noisy baby,” he crooned on a particular harsh thrust that made her whine, fingers a little tighter around her throat. “Can’t help yourself, can you?” He huffed with another thrust. “Need me to do all the work, hm? Greedy—” he grunted, “greedy girl.”

It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close again. Sam was fucking her with determination, grunted every time he pushed himself back in, the head of his cock nudged the soft spongey spot inside of her that made her shudder again and again and again until she was a mess beneath him, lewd wet sounds accompanying her whimpers with each shift of his hips, her pussy fluttering around the stretch of his girth.

He didn’t slow down, didn’t ease up, didn’t give her a breather. She was close to tears by the time she was almost there, already sensitive from her first orgasm.

She clenched around him and his fingers, in turn, tightened on the sides of her throat. She trusted him, she knew he wouldn’t push it too far. Just enough for her to feel a little dizzy, for the bliss to wash over her like a high.

“Sam- mm- Sammy—” She was practically blabbering as her eyes filled with tears, gasping with each thrust, each smack of his hips against hers.

“Oh honey,” he cooed, condescending, mean. “Too much, hm? Need something?”

His hand loosened on her throat and she inhaled a little shakily.

“Please—” she whined, blinking through tears up at him. She didn’t miss the flicker in his eyes as the tears dribbled down her cheeks, but she knew that he knew she’d tell him if it was too much. It had happened before, neither of them messed around when it came to their safe words.

“Please what, huh?” He thrust in harshly and she groaned, cunt fluttering, so close— “Ah-ah, not yet. Don’t you need to ask me something, dolly?” He squeezed her throat once. “You remember what happens if you cum without asking, don’t you?”

Of course she did. The week prior she’d cum too soon, and he spent the next what felt like hours edging her, too skilled with his fingers, words too filthy that they made her head spin. He’d made such a mess of her that she hadn’t been able to even get up off of the bed for a little while after he finally let her cum.

“Mhm, mm, yeah—” she inhaled shakily, whining, thighs clamped tighter around his hips. “Please- please can I- please let me—” she groaned.

“Let you what?” He was dragging it out, the fucker, grunting into her ear as he leaned down over her, pushed his cock so deep her vision almost whitened out. “Tell me, honey. Use those words for me, c’mon.”

The tears were bubbling over faster, rolling down her flushed cheeks. “Let me cum, baby, please.”

“Asking so nicely,” he grunted, pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “How can I say no to something so pretty, hm? ‘Course you can, baby, go ahead.”

It wasn’t his words that did it for her, but the hand that snuck between them and pressed down on her stomach, the press of his cock suddenly so much more delicious that she almost fucking fainted.

She came with a breathless whine, hips jerked as she finally gasped a breath and whined again, her cunt throbbed around his cock as he kept pumping, rode her through it entirely. Her head tipped back, his mouth on her neck as her eyes squeezed shut, colours danced on the inside of her eyelids, her own little fireworks display.

Sam came shortly after, groaned into her ear in a way that almost made her cum again, and he rutted into her a few more times before he stopped, warmth spreading through her as he panted against her shoulder.

“Fuck,” he huffed, his own chest heaved, brushing against her bare skin. “Oh sweetheart.” The shift in his demeanour was palpable, soft kisses immediately littered across her shoulder and collarbone, palms flattened to smooth over her sweat-dampened skin. He could be so mean in the moment, so dominating and controlling that he left her a fucking mess underneath him, but afterwards? He’d probably feed her grapes and fan her if she asked him to.

She was still gasping for breath, head spinning, and when she knew she wouldn’t be told off for it her hands lifted, immediately clung to his warm shoulders. She loved the way his shoulders felt underneath her touch, muscles rippling with every movement.

Sam kissed up her throat and jaw before he landed on her mouth, and he kissed her slowly, huffed breaths into each other's mouths as he licked between her lips, sweeped behind her top teeth, their lips both wet with spit.

By the time he had pulled away, he’d so thoroughly kissed her that she almost had her breath back.

“You okay?” His voice was so soft it was like there was an entirely different person on top of her compared to five minutes prior. His hand left her throat, smoothed upwards and cupped her jaw. She felt him thumb away tears that had fallen, some clung to her eyelashes, somewhat cool against her hot and flushed skin.

She nodded as she stroked her fingertips along his shoulders with her fingertips, like she’d committed him to memory. She had.

“Hey,” he lightly tapped her cheekbone with his thumb. “Need words, honey.”

She couldn’t help her smile. He was so caring she sometimes wanted to cry. “M’okay,” she whispered, voice soft like she’d shared a secret. “Really good. You’re so good, Sammy.” She praised, tilted her head to kiss his wrist, and he smiled and blushed like he hadn’t just been the one to fuck the life out of her.

“Says you,” Sam leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re perfect. Love you,” another kiss. “Love you so much.”

She smiled so much her cheeks hurt. “Love you too.”

Sam smiled too, that soft smile that made his dimples peek out, eyes crinkled at the corners, and he stroked her cheekbone again. “M’gonna pull out, okay?”

Only when she nodded did he shift, slowly pulled his hips back until she was empty, until all she could feel was the wetness coated between her thighs.

“Christ, made a mess of you,” he murmured, not in the condescending tone from before, instead something closer to admiration. “You’re so pretty when you cum, y’know that?”

She blushed, hard, and shrugged as her cheek dipped to meet her shoulder.

Sam laughed, rolled his eyes as he leaned in and kissed her again. “Don’t get all shy on me now.”

She was still blushing when he helped her sit up, fingers delicately curled around her elbows to pull her upright, her back also damp with sweat. They’d need to change the sheets.

“Two options,” Sam murmured as he gently stroked hair away that was stuck to her forehead, baby hairs that clung to her temples. “We take a shower and let me wash your hair and then go get food, or you let me run you a bath and you wait there looking all pretty for me while I get you something we can eat in there so I can dote on you.”

“You just wanna wash my hair huh?”

Sam smiled. “Guilty.”

Her fingers found his, intertwined with a squeeze. “Bath sounds nice,” she eventually settled on. “As long as you don’t take too long in the kitchen. I’ll miss you.”

He was laughing when he pressed another kiss to her mouth. “Of course. Promise to not take too long, okay?”

She giggled and nodded, smiled against his mouth when he kissed her again. “Okay.”

[brattyspence]

memory serves | s.reid

summary: in which spencer is keenly aware of all the little details. based on request from anon.

word count: > 600

tags: fluffy as fuck, smut adjacent, giggly reader, minor teasing, reader has freckles/birthmarks, spencer is a little shit

a/n: this one is a little self indulgent sorry not sorry. anon sorry this took 87 years i hope u like it <3

masterlist

Spencer has always been patient. 

Maybe too much so. He’s damn near obsessive sometimes. It never ceases to please you, even when it frustrates you. 

From your position, it’s like you can see him tick. His eyes are busy scanning every inch of exposed skin like it’s all new to him, although that’s far from the truth. You don’t understand his need to take his time and be patient. With your back against the sheets, legs carefully draped around his body as he stands over the edge of the bed, you’re not sure you could show him that you’re any more eager if you tried. 

His hands are somewhere under the hem of your shirt, trailing soft fingertips along your skin in a way that toes the line between welcome and teasing. Goosebumps rise in their wake, leaving you simultaneously shivering while burning up in need of something else. When you decide you’ve had enough, you grab onto his hand, tugging him down over you in hopes to move him along. 

“Eager,” he smiles. 

“Not eager,” you protest. “You just like to take your time. Maybe too much.”

“Lots to take in. Can’t miss any details.”

A slight giggle is stifled by another kiss to the corner of your mouth, which turns into two and then three trailing their way along your jaw. 

“Okay, eidetic memory. We get it,” you hum. “You can just take my shirt off.”

He laughs softly, more of a slight huff of air than anything. The feeling tickles your skin and makes you shift under his touch. 

“If my memory stands correctly, which it does, that means you have new freckles.” 

“You don’t memorize my freckles.”

When he pulls away this time, his face hovering mere centimeters above yours, it’s almost like he’s offended. 

“Of course I do.”

“Spencer,” you giggle. 

“I do,” he nods. The hand previously cupping your head slides up to your cheek instead. “These are permanent. But it’s summer, which means sun, and so these are all new.”

You scrunch your nose for a moment as you feel his thumb run across your cheek, first on one spot and then over another. Suddenly, it’s much harder to tease him when he’s being so sickeningly sweet.

“If you say so.”

“Ah,” he shakes his head. “I wasn’t done. You also have freckles here–” another kiss to your jawline, “two here, actually–” a kiss to your shoulder, “and one here,” he places one final kiss over your stomach. 

“You missed a few.” 

“I was getting there. We could go into detail, but since you’re so impatient…” One hand tucks itself under your knee, drawing your leg upwards. “I’ll just remind you of my favorite.” 

Before you can respond, he places another kiss against the fabric of your jeans, right along your inner thigh, exactly over the birthmark that hides there. You can’t hide the way your cheeks flush from the attention.

“You’re so weird,” you smile. Your hands find their home back in his hair, guiding his return back to you.

“If that’s what you want to call it,” he replies. “I have freckles memorized that you don’t even know about.”

“Oh really?”

“Mhm,” he nods. His hand makes its way back to your waist, softly guiding the fabric of your shirt up and out of his way. “I can finish pointing them all out to you, if that would make you happy.”

He waits for the witty remark, or the teasing comment. This time, though, you only pause for a moment and nod before tugging off your shirt the rest of the way, tossing it aside on the bed.

dividers by @esote-rika

[bombuni]

yeah that kitty hybrid san fic drove me insane. so, i’m here to ask for a little request…

sub!hybrid!wooyoung and sub!hybrid!reader being left at home together and needy so they’re trying to please each other clumsily but then owner!ateez come back to find them like that. you can decide what kinda hybrids they are, and what goes down when they come back :3

little accidents

summary: Hongjoong and Seonghwa make a mistake in trusting their two kitties to be left alone. genre/pairing: owner!matz x kitty!fem!reader x kitty!wooyoung, smut wc: 1.8k warnings: SMUT MDNI, degradation, meandom!seonghwa, hongjoong less so, mommy kink, leash kink, humiliation kink, creampies, breeding kink, reader is in heat, background seonghwa x hongjoong bom note: anon i love u for this request and i’m so sorry i made u wait for so long. also hope u don’t mind that i made this matz instead of ot8! pls enjoy<3

It’s hard to push Wooyoung off of you, his stubborn lips persistently pulling quiet moans out of you. He’s trying to tug your shorts off, but Seonghwa’s voice is in the back of your head at every harsh tug Wooyoung gives. You know that once you start you won’t be able to stop. You’d rather remain in the good graces of your mommy today, his furrowed brows and tiny frown apparent on his elegant face before he left.

Seonghwa knows you’re in heat. Hongjoong, ever the sweetheart he is, is uneducated in the fact that you two should be separated at this time. However, they both have responsibilities and jobs to attend to. He thinks you’re well-behaved enough to resist your primal urges, at least until he can get home to take care of you. Seonghwa never realized moving in with his boyfriend would be so stressful.

A soft whine builds in the back of your throat as Wooyoung licks the skin along your neck, the coldness of his drool greeting you when he moves to kiss along your jawline. He sees every tic your body gives, remembering every little thing so he has you weakening faster. His tail wraps around your calf as you let yourself be pushed back onto the bed-your mommy’s bed-the furry, black thing sending waves of tingles throughout your body.

Wooyoung won’t let you catch your breath, “Come on. I know you’re in heat. You just-you gotta let me help,” Wooyoung has never been around another hybrid in heat before. He’s surprised to find it written on you so clearly, desperation etched into your features. He can’t help it when his hands move on their own as he watches you hold your insides as if you’re in some sort of pain, holding back all of his urge to claim you.

You try to crawl away, the control he has over you with just his body and voice too overwhelming. The patterned blanket under you reminds you of your mommy, and you flip your body over to try to crawl upwards. You don’t get very far as Wooyoung drops all of his body weight on top of your back, his hard ready cock pressing against your pussy. The feeling of it makes you whine, Wooyoung taking advantage of the position and dragging himself over you repeatedly.

He holds your neck like he’s preparing to bite you, but he takes a whiff and closes his eyes, “You smell so ready for dick, kitty.”

His voice is shaky, like he’s barely holding back. His grip on you is bruising, the hand on your hip holding you in place under him. His veiny hand holds your jaw up, forcing you to look him in the eyes every time his leaking cockhead makes your shorts wetter with every deliberate drag. You’re entranced by his twitching ears and swishing tail.

“But mommy said-“

He shushes you with an open-mouthed, wet kiss, “They don’t have to know. I’m just helping you,”

You’re losing to the desire in you, the primal need to just be bred, “Woo, I need it so bad.”

Whatever desperation was in Wooyoung unleashes with your admission. He practically envelops you with himself as his hands come down to your tits, quickly finding their way under your tank top and over your sensitive nipples. He plays with them, flicking you over and over until you keen and part from his lips. There’s really no escape from Wooyoung because even if you stop kissing him to catch your breath, he latches onto whatever part of your warm skin he can find.

One of his hands slides between you and the bed, into your panties. He groans at how drenched you are, pussy begging to just be filled and bred. He plays with your folds, teasing and spreading your slick over yourself. Wooyoung gathers it all on his fingers, bringing his hand up to his lips and sucking every digit clean. He closes his eyes in bliss at the taste, truly enjoying how your pussy is leaking, creaming, and begging for him.

He leans back into your ear, now hurriedly trying to pull your shorts off, “I’m gonna fill you up, kitty. Can I?”

“Y-yes, please, just fill me up, Woo-“

He shudders at your words, finally getting your shorts off. There’s no time to waste as he messily pulls his cock out of his sweatpants, not bothering to slip out of them fully. He just needs to feel you wrapped around his cock. He plunges into you, quickly and deeply. Wooyoung fully melts into you, possibly forever consumed by the feeling of your tight hole now. He doesn’t give you a chance to adjust before he hungrily starts thrusting his hips, growling into your ears everytime he feels you clench.

The way he fucks you is desperate and raw, one goal set in his mind. To fill you with so much cum you’re spilling and only babbling about all of the kittens he’s going to give you. Just the vision of his cum trickling out of your sweet hole has him stopping, shuddering in place to try to make this last at least a little longer.

You feel him pausing but you’re way too overheated and desperate to be filled to give him a break now, “P-please, Woo, can you cum inside me? I can take all of it, please-“

That’s all it takes for him to plunge deep inside of you, his canines piercing your shoulder as his body shakes and jolts with every sputter of cum entering you.

A tiny part of you is soothed now, but there’s still a burning sensation that lingers everywhere in your body. The uncomfortable feeling starts in your gut and unravels all over you. You turn to pant and whine to Wooyoung for more, but you find he’s gone from atop you. Hongjoong and Seonghwa stand next to the bedside, Hongjoong holding Wooyoung back by the scruff as he hisses and scratches at him. By the looks on their faces, you’re certainly in trouble.

-

Hongjoong fucks you relentlessly. He groans into your ear, dick smearing Wooyoung’s cum and your slick all over. His breath is hot against your cheek as he leans over your back and invades your space. He smirks at Wooyoung when you let out a sweet, needy whine as he grinds his hips into yours as deep as he can.

Wooyoung’s shaking with need. He can’t do anything but watch as his cum is fucked out of your pussy by Hongjoong. He’d claim you again if it weren’t Seonghwa-who holds him back by his collar. His fist wraps around the leather tightly, tugging him back every time Wooyoung tries to make a move towards you.

Seonghwa’s usual sweet demeanor is gone and replaced by a demanding one, “The both of you are so fucking naughty,”

You turn to Seonghwa, teary-eyed as Hongjoong keeps drilling you into the bed, “S-sorry, mommy,”

Your voice shakes against Hongjoong’s thrusts. He picks your head up by the back of your head and Wooyoung watches as your back arches against Hongjoong’s cock. He fucks you savagely, reaching deep inside you with his member until you can feel it in your throat. The position has you yowling and clenching down onto Hongjoong, who hisses as his hips stutter in their thrusts.

You look so broken and pitiful and Seonghwa fucking loves it. There’s slick and cum running down your legs, tears streaming down your eyes, and your tiny hands hold the bedsheets tight under your palms. His breathing turns ragged, his fist tightening impossibly more against Wooyoung’s collar.

Hongjoong brings a hand down to your clit, pulling you in until your back hits his chest, “I see why Youngie can’t stay away from this pussy,”

You let out a shaky breath as you turn into putty under his hands. He rubs circles onto you, playing with your wetness as he keeps grinding you onto his cock. His other hand fondles your tit, tweaking the sensitive bud. It’s all too much, too good, too fast.

Seonghwa lets out a sharp, mocking laugh as he watches you break, “This is what happens to bad girls who don’t listen to their mommy, sweetheart,”

There’s another rush of wetness that comes from your hole and Hongjoong chuckles, “Think she liked that,”

Hongjoong lifts you by your hips now, moving you so that you face Wooyoung as he sets you atop him. You blush with all the attention, but Hongjoong’s cock doesn’t let you think. He holds you by your sides, tight and hard enough to leave welts, as he bounces you on his cock. You feel it everywhere, your entire body warm and on the brink of explosion as he perfectly fills your gummy walls.

Hongjoong feels you on that brink, “Cum on my dick, baby, then I’ll give you all the kittens you want,”

The thought of his cum swirling inside you, marking you and filling you finally sends that tingle of electricity all through you. You shake on top of Hongjoong, who follows suit and pulls you to his pelvis. He groans and stutters as your pussy tightens and sucks the cum out of him.

Wooyoung is whining and rock hard, to the point that it hurts. You’re so sweaty and cute on top of Hongjoong, freshly fucked out but Wooyoung still wants to fuck you fill of his kittens. Seonghwa isn’t any better off, but he tsk’s and pulls on Wooyoung’s collar when he feels him start to get antsy.

Hongjoong sends a sick, cocky smirk towards Wooyoung. He smells trouble, but he doesn’t expect Hongjoong to spread your pussy lips for him. The pearlescent liquid shines between your folds as Hongjoong pulls out of you and Wooyoung all but collapses. Your hole is utterly and completely stuffed, claimed by Hongjoong and he feels his entire body on fire.

Seonghwa moves him until he’s right in front of your leaking pussy, forcing him to his knees. He sends a mean, intimidating look to Wooyoung. It’s demeaning and embarrassing the way he follows his commands so easily, but he just can’t help it.

He raises an eyebrow at Wooyoung, “Well? Clean up the mess you made, you pervert.”

He doesn’t think twice. You’re still recovering from the earth-shattering orgasm you just had, but Wooyoung’s wet tongue against you wakes you up again. Your hips grind against his lips as he licks a stripe along your folds, cleaning off the essence of Hongjoong. Seonghwa’s cold hands against his neck spur him on.

Wooyoung sucks on your clit, lips wrapping around the sensitive bud and causing an intense warmth to gather in your gut. You can’t stop moving against his face as he slurps you up, the vibrations of his moans against you just amplifying the sensation. He lets you go with a pop before moving down to your entrance, hands forcing your legs open as he works you open. He doesn’t mind the taste of Hongjoong’s dick or your slick, just as long as he gets to taste you.

Seonghwa’s cocky smirk shines down on you, commanding your attention, “My perfect kitty.”

[goingdownondaisuke]

Can you write the tuplar crew with a s/o who can't control their volume in bed (🔞 nsfw)

ofc ofc!! thank u for ur request lovely anon!

(afab reader, she/her pronouns, nsfw under the cut!!)

anya ۶ৎ

gets very flustered when you won't shut the hell up

esp on the tulpar, will try to gently remind you to stay quiet while she's beneath you

and if that doesn't work, she'll slap her hand over your mouth and finger you a bit more roughly

its a bit different when you're riding her face, however

like before, she'll give you a small warning by squeezing your waist

and if you're still loud, she'll dig her long nails into your hips and thrust her tongue into you

...which is kinda counterintuitive but oh well

now, if you two are on earth and in the comfort of your shared home, make all the noise you want!!

she totally gets off to it

'no way im making someone as beautiful as her feel this good...'

"hey, shhh, keep it down a bit, yeah?"

curly ۶ৎ

regardless of whether or not you're typically loud during sex, you're going to be loud w curly, because man is he BIG

he knows you're gonna be loud so he usually fucks you in the cockpit or utility room, where it's a bit more soundproof

but of course he's gonna ask you to quiet down regardless bc who knows who could be lurking??!

he'll either tell you to bite your hand, cover your mouth, or he'll rip off your panties and shove them into your mouth

none of them work

for the rare times he'll take you in his room, he always has you face down and screaming into the pillows

he wants to see ur pretty little face scrunched up in the most blissful expressions, but goddamn he just dicks you down too well

a small (huge) part of him really just wants to fuck you anywhere and let everyone hear you scream his name

"fuck, princess, that feel real good, yeah?"

"god, so loud y/n."

daisuke ۶ৎ

it just swells his ego, tbh

he's just like, "wow, i'm making her make these sounds?!"

so cute

of course, he still wants you to hush, but isn't sure how to get you to without being mean

he'll try to be as sweet as possible, he'll run his hand up and down your waist or press his thumb to your lips while whispering little praises in you ear

"you feel so good, but please keep it down before we get caught!"

starts to get a little scared when you keep moaning and squealing at an excessive volume, genuinely has no idea what to do 😭

like curly, will also try to take you to more closed off places, mainly the utility room because it's not odd for him to be in there anyway

it's hilarious how panicked he gets when you two are fucking, one time he took off his hawaiian shirt and shoved it into your mouth

and surprisingly it did the job!!!!

"am i doing good? i must be..."

jimmy ۶ৎ

he totally gets off to it

so much so that he won't even do anything, he'll just let you scream

it happens so often that curly has to talk to the two of you about your volume

he even separated you two for a day, not like that was gonna do anything beneficial

like daisuke, but on a way worse level, it inflates his ego to no end

you'll be moaning loud as fuck and he's just there grinning in your face

he's not very used to women actually enjoying his dick as much as you do, they're typically just cheap whores or girls he's taken advantage of

but you?? coming and clamping around his cock as you moan into the air?? without being forced??

it makes him come like a thousand times quicker

"ooh, you like that dick? i know you do."

"yeah, let everyone else know who's pussy this is."

swansea ۶ৎ

he knows how to deal with youngins like you, after all, he has tons of experience from his wife

he gives your ass harsh smacks when you don't hush, and if that doesn't work he'll pull his thick cock out of you and chastise you while smacking it on your cunt

he's definitely a pussy slapper/clit pincher

orgasm denial orgasm denial orgasm denial

will also just straight up slap the fuck outta you if you keep on

he's so mean i kinda need him

he literally doesn't understand you, its so easy to shut up to him

prefers to have you ass up face down so you can make all that noise onto whatever surface he's fucking you on

dw he's super sweet afterwards, will gives you kisses all over and whisper praise and hdjidissk

"damn woman, can't be that good..."

"make a noise like that again and i'll leave you high and dry young lady."

[osachiyo]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 by anonymous user ꒱. . . hello ! I really like your works, could I please request an insecure!reader with chuuya? and him fucking some sense into her? don't feel pressured to do this btw and feel free to ignore :D

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 note ꒱. . . here u go, nonnie ! I really liked this idea and sorry for taking so long on this request 😭 anyway, hope you enjoy ~~

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 c/w ꒱. . . (18+) n/sfw content, mentions of insecurities, body worshipper chuuya, praise, lowercase intended, hints of dumbfication, overstimulation, fingering, mirror sex, cunnilingus, chuuya eats it from the back !! 🗣️🗣️& more + not proofread

summary. . . you've been feeling insecure about your body and started to wonder if you were really good enough for someone like chuuya? but no worries, your lover doesn't mind reminding you how much he loves your body and more importantly, you.

you sighed, staring at your reflection in the fancy full-body mirror in front of you; god, you looked horrendous. you didn't know how chuuya, one of, if not the most beautiful man you've ever met, love someone like.. you.

what you also didn't know, though, was that your beloved chuuya had been standing in the doorway the entire time, slender figure leaning against the doorframe as a dull pain throbbed in his heart while he watched, heard you pick apart your body like it was the ugliest thing you had ever seen. he watched as you ran your fingers up and down the parts you hated the most, a frown tugging at your lips as you muttered something about "not being pretty enough". he didn't understand why you'd say such things about your body− all of those beautiful parts of yours that he cherished wholeheartedly.

you whipped your head around hearing the sound of the once slightly ajar bedroom door shut, your boyfriend entering the room. "hey doll, what're you up to?" chuuya's voice was heavy, laced with something you couldn't exactly put a finger on.

"hey, chuu," you smiled, though the action didn't meet your eyes. and chuuya could tell.

his eyes narrowed, gloved hands found their way around your waist, tugging you closer to him− your back flush against his chest. when did he walk all the way across the room?

"y'know, I heard everything right?" he muttered into your neck, strong arms tightening around your figure as you gulped nervously. "chuuya I−" "you're fuckin' beautiful. so don't say hurtful shit about yourself 'cause it for sure ain't true," he cut you off, now pressing soft kisses on the back of your neck to your shoulders, gloved hands reaching up your shirt to knead and gently caress your soft skin.

a whimper caught in your throat as chuuya's hands found your breasts− pushing your bra up to grope them under your shirt. "i love all parts of your body. fuck, you're so pretty. i'll fuckin' prove it to you if i have to."

"you see that, baby? see the way this pussy sucks my fingers in?" chuuya mused, now bare fingers plunging in and out of your sopping cunt as he had you spread in front of the giant mirror. "mm-! fuck, chuu−!" you were cut off by your own moans, beads of sweat forming on your forehead, making the little strands of your baby hair stick to your skin. "shh, baby. just focus on the way i finger fuck this pretty cunt, yeah?" your lover's voice was muffled by the soft kisses he was busy pressing all over your nape and shoulders, moving your hair out of the way to make it easier.

you could see everything in the mirror, from the way chuuya's slim fingers disappeared inside of your pussy to how much of a mess you've already become− glossy lips parted as loud moans and whines escape from your throat, the way your tits bounce and jiggle with each thrust of his digits. and hell, was it embarrassing. you jolted up when the tips of his appendages rubbed against that one spongey spot inside of your gooey walls− your jaw slacking as your eyes shut. only to receive a gentle but firm slap on your face from chuuya, "nuh-uh, baby. you're gonna watch how I please this beautiful body of yours," he growled lowly in your ear, fingers speeding up their pace as you twitch and whine in response. your vision was blurry− but you could still make out the way your face contorts to one of pure bliss in your reflection.

"yeaah− cum on these fingers, sweetheart," the ginger groaned as you soaked his fingers− your slick running down his wrist and staining the bed sheets underneath, soft curses and his name spewing out of your mouth as his fingers slowed down, aiding you to ride out your orgasm.

you gasped when he abruptly pulled them out of your still sensitive cunt− only to pop them in his mouth as he moaned from the taste of your juices melting on his tongue. "fuck, doll− I gotta taste you, need'a make you cum on my tongue−" he pushed you on your hands and knees before even finishing his sentence− a large hand pressing your back to a perfect arch, face down ass up.

"such a nice fuckin' ass," he groaned, fingers digging into the soft fat and spreading them as you whimper, pitifully clawing at the bed sheets. he playfully bit one of your globes, earning a whine in return which made him chuckle. chuuya's greedy hands ran down from your ass to your thighs, only to go back up to knead at your ass, "and these soft thighs− god, I could kiss 'em for hours."

and as if to prove himself, he started littering kisses all over your inner thighs, hands still kneading your ass before giving it a firm spank, making you jump. "hah, and of course−" he smirked before making his way to your pussy, "this pretty fuckin' pussy− prettiest one I've ever seen," he growled before diving in between your legs− hungry lips wrapping around your clit as you gasp out from the feeling.

"fu−ck! chuuya−!" you babbled, pussy still sensitive from your orgasm from earlier, his nose bumping against your slit as he runs his tongue in a zigzag motion across your clit. his fingers were spreading your ass apart for him, to get easy access to your sweet pussy that he wanted to devour so bad.

shamelessly nasty slurping noises came from between your parted thighs. your slick was already dripping down chuuya's chin as you tried your best to keep your gaze on the mirror, watching yourself getting eaten out from the back. fuck, your hair was a mess− your bare figure covered in bites and bruises that your boyfriend gave you, claiming it was his way of showing you were his. your makeup had been completely ruined; mascara running down your cheek in inky streaks, lipstick smudged− you looked utterly debauched, chuuya's favorite look on you.

a gurgled moan came out of your mouth when two fingers pushed inside of your sloppy pussy, the mafia executive's tongue now writing his name on your clit. a deep groan rumbled in his chest when you tried to run away from the feeling of his tongue and fingers on you− pulling you back before harshly cracking a palm down on your left globe, before curling his fingers further into you. tears were falling freely from your eyes at this point, mouth dropped to an 'o' as you chanted his name like a prayer− "chuu− please, fuck! s'too much−!" you cried out, if it weren't for chuuya's death grip on you, you'd already have fallen face first into the matress.

"you can− fuuck− take it, sweet girl," chuuya moaned into your pussy, the vibrations of the sound making your toes curl and apparently that was the last straw for you− "fuckfuck! 'm cummin'− cummingg−!!" your eyes rolled back into your skull as you squirted all over chuuya's face, his own hips rutting into the mattress as his eyes widen− he wasn't expecting you to do that.

chuuya gave your messy cunt a few more licks before kissing your clit, then pulling away. you looked back to see his face completely drenched− him licking his lips as he gave you a lopsided grin. "holy shit, baby. that was..." he muttered, still dazed as he ran his clean hand through his sweaty orange locks. you were still panting, chest heaving as you tried came down from the euphoric high before looking away in embarrassment, fingers fiddling with the sheets− then suddenly, you got slammed back against the bed. face down, ass up, again.

you heard a metal clink− likely his belt. the sound of expensive leather hitting the floor snapped you back into reality, he must've tossed the belt somewhere. it wasn't long before your thoughts got quickly cut off, chuuya's heavy tip slapping against your clit a few times as you whined, begging him to give you a rest but no− he wasn't gonna stop until he was sure he fucked all those negative thoughts out of your mind− wasn't gonna stop 'till all thoughts but his left that pretty little head of yours. you just had to sit still and take it, like the good girl you were.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

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[gigiszn]

gwi-nam smut....😈

JUST A DREAM — gwinam x fem!reader

 ۫ ꣑ৎ ｡𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄! LADIES one at a time.. im only one sexy woman.. but since y'all asked so politely (and 10 times in my inbox) here is your GWINAM SMUT.. also i'm so sorry if i haven't gotten back to you but rn based on requests i'm also writing a gwi-nam fluff and a thg story! plus updating cheong-san fic tmrw prob idk whenever i feel like it okay?!?!?!

y'all know the smut gonna be good when you never even HEARD of the warnings (i didn't know the names of the kinks until i googled them)

tw: somnophilia, dom!gwinam, sub!reader, humiliation, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, begging, p in v, oral (f receiving), begging, hybristophilia, hair pulling, slapping, creampie, no use of y/n (though no name or features are described).

as always, you're responsible for the media you consume. read if u want, don't if you don't.

wc: 2.3k

 ۫ ꣑ৎ ｡𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ

The hours had dragged on, each second thick with tension. One moment, you and On-Jo had been sitting close, sharing a quiet laugh as she nervously gushed about Bare-Su. Her voice had been light, teasing, but there was something raw in the way she spoke—something unspoken between you, an energy you couldn't quite place. Then, without warning, the world had shattered around you. The laughter faded into the harsh reality of your classmates turned monsters—feral, mindless creatures, chasing you down with a hunger you could feel deep in your bones.

The panic had set in quickly. The hallways had become a maze, the sound of shuffling footsteps and eerie growls echoing around you. You’d lost On-Jo, lost track of everything. Alone, terrified, you had found a classroom to hide in, slamming the door behind you, and for a brief moment, it had seemed like you were safe. But that security was short-lived.

The zombies had found the door, clawing at the wood, their nails scraping as they drew nearer. You knew you couldn’t stay here forever. The fear gripped you, cold and suffocating. You refused to let it end like this—not after you’d had to kill one of your own. You had to survive.

Taking a deep breath, you checked the door one last time. The sounds of the undead grew louder, and you knew it was only a matter of time before they broke through. Without thinking, you darted out of the classroom, running as fast as you could, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Each step was desperate, each breath labored. Your heart pounded, not from exhaustion, but from the raw terror that fueled you forward.

You spotted the music room just ahead, a glimpse of hope in the chaos. You pushed open the door, slamming it behind you, your back pressed against it for a moment, trying to catch your breath. The quiet that enveloped you felt surreal after the chaos outside. The room was still, untouched, as if time had stopped. The air smelled of dust and old wood, but there was a certain calm to it, a strange peace you didn’t think you’d ever feel again.

You quickly scanned the room. It was empty, save for a broken piano and scattered instruments. In the corner, there was a closet—small, tucked away from view. You moved toward it with quick steps, but then froze. A body lay crushed under the piano, clawing at the air above you in a desperate attempt to eat your brain, a grotesque reminder of the horrors outside.

Shaking your head, you pushed the thought aside. You needed to focus. The last thing you wanted was to think about the things you’d just barely escaped. You moved to the farthest corner of the room, a chair in the corner catching your eye. With a tired sigh, you sank into it, your body aching, your mind still racing.

The room was silent again, and for a brief, fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to relax. Your muscles, tense from the fight and the fear, finally started to release. Your breathing slowed, but it was difficult to let go completely. You hadn’t let yourself rest in what felt like forever. The memories of the chaos—of your friends, of the ones you had lost—were fresh and raw in your mind.

You closed your eyes for just a moment, exhaustion overtaking you. The outside world felt far away, the sounds of the zombies muffled. Here, in this room, you were safe—for now.

And that was all that mattered.

 ۫ ꣑ৎ ｡𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ

A growing sense of pleasure blooming in your cunt snapped you out of your slumber, each sense reawakening. Your eyes shot downwards, the sight of an all too familiar boy filling your vision as he looked up from his seeming frenzy against your now throbbing clit.

Every part of you screamed to run, to get the hell back in that supply closet. It wasn't normal to be awoken by a tongue fucking into your hole, yet something about the far-from-vanilla scene had you gripping the sides of the chair.

"G-Gwinam.. What the fuck are you do..doing?" You stammered out, chest heaving. Your question was left hung in the air, filling the silence surrounding you. The only sounds able to be heard were the sound of his tongue lapping against your clit. The sight was erotic, your hands scrambling to catch a grip on anything, finally settling for his hair. You tugged instinctively, Gwinam's mouth opening in a groan that reverberated against your pussy.

Your legs twitched, nose and brows scrunching as you felt your climax arriving. The coil in your stomach was tightening, like the feeling at the brink of a rollercoaster. "I-I'm gonna.." You muttered out, lips curling into a pleasure-filled frown.

"You better fucking hold it, you slut," He warned, stopping his abuse against your clit. You grimaced, staring down at him as your hips jutted upwards.

His tongue swirled and delved deeper into your hole, two fingers joining his mouth. Your legs shook, hands pulling tighter on his hair.

Gwinam could feel his hard-on rub against his pants, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried not to focus on the overwhelming pressure he felt as you tugged on the strands of his black hair.

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore.

"I-I can't.." You whined out as the coil inside you unleashed and broke. The rollercoaster had fallen, and your cum was now spilling out onto your thighs and his face.

He licked and slurped at your clit as you rode out your high, a post-nut clarity washing over you as your eyes widened. You were far too loud, and the zombies would surely come. Without thinking, you pushed him down, stumbling as your legs shook while you tried to make your way to the supply closet.

Suddenly, Gwinam's strong forced pushed you against the wall, forearm against your neck. You attempted to claw at him, but he simply used his free hand to pin them upward. "Where y'gonna run now, huh?" He teased, biting down on your neck, "You don't wanna listen? I'll show you how to fucking listen, whore."

A loud slap emitted, a pink stain echoing against your cheek.

Tears brimmed your eyes, slowly falling down your face as a choked sob escaped your throat. You struggled against him, watching the sadistic smirk plaster on his face, eyes widened as the pupils traced the line of your salty cries.

"Please, Gwinam. W-We'll die." You stammered out, eyes widened as you tried to search for any trace of humanity in his eyes.

You didn't find it.

"You're so fucking hot when you cry." He groaned, pushing his mouth against yours roughly. It seemed he didn't have a care whether you kissed back, shoving his tongue down your mouth.

You wanted to resist, really, you did.

But the way he rutted his hips against you knew that you didn't want anything more than for him to fuck your brains out.

A moan fell from your mouth and into his, Gwinam's grip on your neck finally releasing as he used that hand to pull up one of your thighs. In a synchronized daze of horniness, you both grinded against each other in a desperate attempt to chase your high once more.

He grabbed your arms, dragging you to the window. Your face was pressed against it, breasts smushing against the glass as his hands carelessly fondled your ass.

Gwinam stuck in two fingers, stretching your tight pussy for what was to come. "If you cum before I let you, I'll kill you."

You knew he was serious. You just didn't have it in you to care.

One hand snakes up your back, wrapping around your neck as if he was the serpent and you were the forbidden fruit.

Squeezing, you let out a broken sob, purple bruises forming in the shape of his fingertips. He pressed his hips against yours at your cries, eyes rolling to the back of his head. There was nothing more erotic to him than fucking you while there were zombies mere metres away from you.

Agonizingly slow, he pulled your skirt down. With a huff, you impatiently forced the fabric down, pooling at your ankles. With a raspy chuckle, he leaned in close and pulled your ear lobe, "You just really can't wait to have me cum in you, isn't that right?"

He had you at a loss of words, biting your lip until it bled. Gwinam pulled you back by your neck, back pressed against his hard chest, "Answer me when I talk to you, slut," He warned, squeezing tighter.

With all the might you had left in you, you breathed out, "Y-Yes.. I can't wait.." Hearing your tears behind your words had precum dripping and his cock practically begging to burst.

Knowing he wouldn't last much longer if you both kept up with the constant teasing, his hands finally let their grip off you and to his pants. Your hands now pressed against the glass, your head dropped to avoid the painstaking scene of dead and dying classmates on the field outside.

As Gwinam finally dropped his pants and boxers, he let out a freakish grin seeing your distaste toward the chaos outside. Grabbing your jaw, he forced you to stare ahead as his pink tip circled your soaked hole.

It was all too much. You felt your pussy throbbing as you tried to find any way to make the dominance Gwinam was exhibiting less arousing.

"Watch them as I fuck you, Mouse," He purred into your ear, pushing his hard cock in slowly. You felt him stretch your fleshy walls, a soft groan sounding from both your throats simultaneously, "You wanna be good for me, don't you?"

You nodded with a whine, turning back to look at him with round eyes. He ran a finger across your lips before turning your head back to the window, angling his dick at your entrance.

As per his usual style, he gave no time in letting you adjust, immediately setting his rough pace. Each thrust let out a loud slap that echoed, angering the zombie under the piano further.

Your senses were slowly diminishing until you were just as brain-dead as the zombies—minus the dead part. Your hair pulled back by his hand, the one on your jaw now letting go and squeezing your ass. Though he had now let go of your face, you still remained looking out the window.

You wanted to be good for Gwinam. You were good for Gwinam.

Your emotions built up in your chest. Every erotic and devastated emotion. You wept as you watched the few survivors that made a break for the schools gates get eaten alive, slowly cracking and turning.

"Fuck—I love it when you cry, baby," He moaned, throwing his head back as his pace quickened.

Your eyes squeezed shut, feeling the slight overstimulation only enhance the pleasure you were feeling. Gwinam reached down, thumb instantly finding your clit and rubbing fast circles, matching his perfect pace against your throbbing cunt.

Your hole squeezed against his dick, and he 'tsked', "Don't you think about cumming." You nodded, placing a hand on your stomach. You could feel his dick sliding in and out of you, each time stretching your hole so that it would only ever be the right size for him.

He was marking you as his, and you didn't want it any other way.

Gwinam's hips stuttered, pace growing sloppy and uneven, "I'm gonna cum in you, okay baby?" He growled in your ear, licking a stripe down your jaw and to your collarbone, "I'm gonna make you mine, and you're gonna take my cum."

You felt yourself reaching the edge at his words, soft cries releasing from your throat as all you wanted to do was squirt all over his veiny length.

"Please.. Please let me cum, Gwinam, I'll be good," You whined, rutting your hips backwards against his, meeting them in the middle and bringing you both so much closer to your edge.

He shook his head, pulling your hair and causing a shriek to emit from your throat. He wanted nothing more than to have you creaming all over him, but he knew the pleasure he felt from commanding you was even better.

Gwinam bent forward against you, and he groaned as you reached back and pulled his hair. He grabbed your neck as he felt his high approach, knowing he wouldn't be able to take it much longer.

Finally giving you permission, Gwinam bit his lip, nodding his head, "Yeah, baby. Cum with me. I want you to cum." He muttered almost incoherently, and his approval was enough to snap the coil once more.

Following after you seconds after, you both continued your desperate movements against each other until the ropes of his semen remained inside your vagina.

The floor underneath you was dampened by your shots of cum, legs faltering. You fell against the window, Gwinam grabbing you by your waist and carrying your half-naked body into the supply room.

You were practically asleep as your body fucked-dumb was weak. He lay you on a sofa in the closet, not bothering to cover you up.

He knelt down, licking a stripe in your pussy filled with his cum. He could taste himself, salty and warm, the overstimulation causing your hips to jut upwards as your half-asleep self muttered under your breath.

Gwinam stood up, staring at you for a moment, before turning and heading toward the broadcasting room.

Maybe when you woke up, you'd think it was all just a dream, and would go back to fearing for your life—But the cum spilling out of you made you know that whatever had happened was real—and you knew you would want more.

[kissbyoon]

⠀𖼥ৎ⠀“what we wanted” ₍ c.sc ₎

───── ABOUT an unexpected kiss helps you and seungcheol become more than friends, just what both of you wished for.

⋆ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff, f2l, humour ⋆ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: seungcheol x gn!reader ⋆ 𝒄𝒘: skinship, kissing, food (orange), triggering word (d!e), ⋆ 𝒘𝒄: 1.2k (I always get carried away)

A/N: anon! tyy for requesting! hope u enjoy reading this, and hopefully it's what you wanted !! ⁠(✿◠ᴗ◠)

“Yah, it's supposed to be mine!” Seungkwan whined, swinging Seungcheol's arm back and forth as he watched him give the other half of an orange to you.

“You won't die,” Seungcheol counters, flashing a smile to Seungkwan—to which he rolled his eyes.

“That's so unfair—”

“Here, it's yours.” Taking the half of the orange Seungcheol was giving you, you hand it to Seungkwan with a grin. “Enjoy~” you coo as Seungcheol stares at you in disbelief. Eyes wide, lips apart and the way his hands froze mid-air emphasized the genuine betrayal he felt.

You watch as Seungkwan runs off with the orange, taunting Seungcheol for being a ‘loser’ for you. Which was a normal thing you hear from his friends, and you had also grown used to it, thinking it's just a way they tease him.

But it is true that, for a friend, he was too perfect. And to some point, he does make you feel like you're more than friends.

Suddenly, you are reminded of the fact that Seungcheol was standing just in front of you, facing the direction of the river as he side eyed you with a pout.

You shift your gaze on him, bursting into laughter. You reach out to place a hand on his shoulder, but he shurgs it away grumpily.

“You look like a grumpy grandpa right now,” you teased with an amused smile, tilting your head to get a better look at him. He scoffs, folding his arms.

“So now you're ungrateful and inconsiderate.” He huffed, trying his best to not break into a smile.

“C’mon, he really wanted to have them. Plus, he looked so cute that I couldn't resist.” You bump his shoulder with yours, watching as his lips parted slightly.

“Cute!?” He turns around, unfolding his arms, his face painted with ‘disbelief’ as if you had just tore his heart apart.

Your smile immediately widens, and you nod. “He really is. You can't argue.”

His lips jut out in a pout—dramatic, exaggerated and adorable. He really couldn't argue with that.

“I remember when you used to call me the cutest,” he mumbles, turning around again. “I guess it's Seungkwan now.”

“I never said that, cheol,” You chuckle, stepping forward to look at him properly.

“You're still the cutest, trust me.” You say, wrapping your hands around his arm. 

And he swears his heart skipped a beat.

“I don't believe you.” He said, but his voice was soft and sounded less sulky. You bite your bottom lip, trying to think of something that would lighten up his mood.

Suddenly, you pull on his arm a little, causing him to lean to your side and you originally planned to peck his cheek, but he turns his head at that very moment.

As if everything went in the complete opposite direction of what was supposed to happen, both of you freeze on the spot—your lips pressed against his. Your stomach did a weird twirl, your cheeks burning up.

His eyes widened, yours did too, but neither of you pulled away. Because neither of you were able to process what just happened.

You just stared at each other for what felt like hours rather than seconds, and you were the first one to pull away. That too just by an inch.

You notice Seungcheol's eyes—glinting with something that you couldn't pinpoint. Finally, you return back to your senses and push yourself away from him, looking at everything but him.

Meanwhile, Seungcheol blinked and gradually straightened himself. He had already processed everything, but his body refused to react in any way.

“I— I’m sorry…” your voice almost below a whisper, you mutter. But he caught it, a chuckle escaping from his lips.

You paused.

He was laughing.

While you were trying your best not to freak out and prayed that you didn't look so obvious with your face painted in a bright shade of red, he was laughing.

You turned around hesitantly, watching as he hung his head low and laughed softly.

“...why are you—”

“Isn't this what we wanted?” His voice carried softness, and so did his eyes. The kind of softness you've heard only when he's feeling a bit vulnerable.

Before you could manage to form your next words, Seungcheol turned to face you with a gentle but knowing smile.

“What do you mean…?” You look at him as he takes a step closer to you. But you didn't even flinch or move away. As if you wanted him to do that.

He slowly reaches out to cup your cheeks in his hands, his thumb grazing your skin gently. “Your cheeks are warm,” he points out, causing you to look away.

A comfortable silence between you two lingers before Seungcheol speaks, his voice much lower now.

“Can we do that again?” He asks, and you immediately look at him, eyes widening. He studies your expression before he continues with a smile. A smile that makes you want to forget everything and just kiss him.

“Properly this time.” He adds, staring at you with eyes of hope but a hint of nervousness hidden behind them.

‘What if you say no?’ Even though he is sure of the fact that you like him just as much as he likes you, a part of him is reluctant if he said that too early.

All of his thoughts come to an end as the corners of your lips curve into a smile. You swear you see his eyes flicker to your lips, and you also swear that your heart skipped a beat.

“How can I say no to such a tempting offer?”

That was it. Without a second thought, Seungcheol didn't slow this down for the sake of you two and pressed his lips against yours. Soft and steady, he gave you time to react as your hands reached up to rest on his shoulders.

Finally, his hands moved away from your cheeks and trailed down to rest on your hips. In a slow motion, his lips moved against yours as if he wanted to get used to the sudden rush of emotions.

But before you could realise, it pulled both of you in so much that it lasted for almost a minute. He pulled away, slightly breathless even though it was basically just your lips hovering above each other's.

“Am I a good kisser?”

“Might need some time to find that out.” You respond, your smile reaching up till your eyes, mirroring his.

Maybe it was not that perfect of a kiss, but it was much better for a first kiss. And you felt a sense of relief knowing the fact that you have time until your perfect kiss now.

Now that you're his and he is yours.

KISSBYOON 2025. all rights reserved. @maestro-net @kstrucknet

[hvnlygrl]

can u pls pls pls write this, nobody is taking my rqs.

so basically jj/rafe comforting reader bc shes crying after he overstimulated her as a punishment for spending time w pogues/kooks and her touchy bsf jj/rafe

hold me now.

pairing — rafe cameron x pogue!fem!reader

word count — 1.4k

warnings — overstimulation, rafe gets in his feelings, reader cries, mention of throwing up, hurt/comfort, brief smut (minors dni), p in v.

synopsis — you’ve been spending too much time around the pogues, and more specifically around your touchy best friend jj and rafe funnels his jealousy into your sex life. he goes too far and he hates himself for it.

notes — i love this request idk why nobody else wants to write it 😭 hope you’re okay with me picking rafe for the pairing ive been wanting a rafe request 💌

you’d known jj since you were four years old, his dad living right next door to your mom. you grew up together, learned how to ride bikes on the same day, were there for each other’s first heart breaks in elementary school and fought off the other’s bullies without a second thought. to you, he was the brother you never had, and to him, you were his entire world. he’d never admit it to anyone but he was positively in love with you.

jj had no idea when his love for you turned into more than it was in the beginning, but he couldn’t deny to himself the feelings he held for you. and to your boyfriend, rafe, it was obvious. 

rafe felt the rage building in his chest as he watched jj wrap his arms around you, a grin across his lips as you laughed and laughed. he couldn’t hear what jj said that was so funny, but judging by your laugh, it was probably some inside joke about some niche topic that he wouldn’t be able to begin to understand. 

rafe tried not to be the overbearing type with you, knowing that it brought you great stress as it reminded you of the relationship you witnessed between your parents growing up, but he just couldn’t help but feel like a third wheel to you and jj. he knew it was trivial, and that you would never in a million years be the type of person to cheat on him, but he also feared that if it came down to it, you would choose jj over him. 

rafe knew he couldn’t yell at you or cuss you out over it, because ultimately it wasn’t your fault. but he had to do something to stop himself from bursting at the seams with everything he was holding in. it drove him insane that he couldn’t do anything about the close relationship you held with the pogue, but he had to find another alternative. 

so he funneled his frustrations into your sex life. 

you lied there, looking up at him with big doe eyes as he drilled into you harshly, one hand gripping the bed frame above you as the other held onto your hip tightly. 

you cried out, eyes rolling back as he continued his momentum, growing closer and closer to yet another orgasm as he fucked you. you wouldn’t say that it hurt, because it didn’t hurt per se, but you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the way he was fucking you tonight. 

“r-rafe-” you whined desperately, hand reaching up to dig into his bare chest. 

“yea?” he breathes out through a groan, head turned up toward the ceiling as he brings himself closer to his own orgasm. 

you whimper as another climax rushes over you without warning. rafe doesn’t realize how overstimulated you are until tears begin flowing from your eyes. he sees the look on your face and wants to punch himself. you look so fragile, face turned away from him as he quickly pulls out, backing away from you as he catches his breath. 

“baby,” he reaches out toward you, heart aching when you turn further away from him, curling into yourself. “babe?”

you groan in response, naked body folded as tightly into itself as humanly possible. 

he hangs his head as he makes his way to the bathroom. rafe nearly throws up when he hears your delicate sobs emanating from the bedroom. “fuck,” he whispers as he looks in the mirror at himself. his chest and back are covered in scratches, his cheeks red and blotchy, and his hair completely askew. 

he has no idea when he got so carried away with everything, or when it became too much for you and he wants to throw his head through the wall at the fact that he didn’t notice. he should’ve noticed that he was taking it too far with you. 

rafe quickly finishes himself off in the bathroom, heart in his throat as he returns from the bathroom with a damp washcloth. he watches you breathe in and out slowly and deeply, trying to stop yourself from crying further.

you genuinely had no idea why you were crying, but you couldn’t get yourself to stop. you weren’t even upset in the slightest, you just were so overwhelmed that your body was having a visceral reaction to anything and everything at this point. 

rafe threw a pair of boxers and sweatpants on and grabbed you your favorite comfy shorts and one of his shirts and a pair of loose cotton panties. he carries the clothes over to the edge of the bed and kneels beside you. 

“baby?” he reaches out to you again, letting out a soft sigh of relief when you don’t shy away from him. “can i clean you up?” 

you nod pitifully, body still tensed as he gently opens your legs again to wipe at your sensitive area. you whimper, unable to prevent the tears from flowing yet again when the cloth touches your clit. “s’too much.” 

“i know,” he whispers, “i’m so sorry, my love, i went too far, i should’ve paid attention to you and how you were feeling.” 

you want to comfort him, but part of you knows that nothing you can say will even begin to ease the thoughts in his mind. rafe had done countless hours of therapy to try and be better for you, and you knew that to him, this was a major setback. 

“i love you,” you whisper back, “it’s not your fault.” 

he leans forward, placing a delicate kiss on your forehead, “i love you. thank you.” 

you hum in response, body feeling like jello as he pulls the clothes he picked out for you over your body. he adjusts you so that you’re comfortably sat under the comforters, back resting against the pillow on the headboard. he slides in next to you after turning off the big light and adjusting the a/c to your preferred settings. he sits near you, without touching you, unable to bring himself closer to you due to the thoughts racing through his mind. he feels awful, he never meant to take it that far. 

you both sit in silence for a beat, just listening to the sound of the a/c kicking on and the dog’s claws clacking against the hardwood floors. after a moment or two, you roll over, inching yourself closer to him slowly. your muscles are sore and your body aches from overuse as you put your head on his stomach. 

he drags his fingers through your hair mindlessly, listening to your soft hums of approval. 

“it’s not your fault, rafe,” your voice is soft and raspy, “i don’t blame you.” 

rafe wants to believe you, and he knows that you mean what you say, but he just can’t see it the same way as you. you were always the optimist in the relationship. “i just get so worked up over jj, i know i shouldn't, i know he’s not going anywhere, but i can’t help it.” 

you’re silent for a second. “i know.” you turn your head so that you can see his face, and he can see yours. “but look at me, baby, i’m not going anywhere. and i love jj, yes, but he’s my brother. i will never be able to look at him the way i look at you, we’ve been through too much together.” 

“i know, that’s what scares me,” rafe’s brows furrow deeply, “i’m scared that because he’s been there for forever and he knows everything, that i’m always gonna be left out. that it’s always gonna be the jj and y/n show and i’ll always be a background character.” 

“you won’t, you aren’t,” you frown at him, “it's our show, baby, and i’m not going anywhere. and i'm sure as hell not gonna let jj be the thing that gets in between us.” 

he nods, but you can tell that he’s still struggling to believe it. 

“i love you, rafe cameron. you’re my soulmate, you’re my entire world. i would die if anything happened to you, do you understand that?” 

“i know,” he nods again, this time more sure of himself. “i would kill if anything happened to you. i can’t even imagine that.” 

“good. don’t imagine it, because nothing’s gonna happen to me, and nothing’s gonna happen to us. i love you so much, baby.” 

“i love you so much, y/n.” 

“forever and a day?”

“forever and a day.” he kisses the top of your head, letting his lips linger for longer than normal before pulling you closer into his arms. he squeezes you tightly. “i promise i won’t hurt you like that again. i’m so sorry.” 

“apology accepted, rafey,” you wrap your arms around his, kissing his hands gently. “now make me a sandwich please?”

“anything you want, my love.” 

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taglist — @lanasb0ngwater