#and he was zipped up tight the whole night | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wifeyoozi · 5 months

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Jeon Wonwoo : zip it, strip it

w.c : 2.2 k ┊ synopsis : Wonwoo can't stand his roommate's progressively slutty online shipped clothes anymore┊ content warning : smut , friends to lovers, slight degradation (/slutshaming?) kink, unprotected sex (wrap the willy guys) , Lazada shopping , big dick wonu agenda , reader has slight size kink , oral + fingering (f rec)

a/n : mdni !! not completely beta read and still a little sloppy (the smut part) 😭

Wonwoo knows he is losing his mind. And it was solely and entirely because of you.

You, his roommate, best friend, and for quite a while now, his one-sided love.

Wonwoo wasn't exactly the most extroverted person. So the way you two became friends was only because you had once stumbled whole ten minutes late to the lecture in your first year college days once, and sat beside him for it was the only empty seat. And somehow you had engaged him in a conversation. And then somehow you had started sitting beside him everyday for the next four years. And then somehow you had just embedded yourself in his life (and heart) like that.

The reason you two decided to get one apartment together was because how much money you could save from rent and groceries with that. And it be fun. Of course it was your idea and your words. But Wonwoo was a sucker in love and he'd blindly agreed for it.

It was a little awkward at first. You always tried to keep your stuff to yourself and not make a mess of the whole house and not indulge too much in Wonwoo's personal space, knowing he was the one who loved to keep to himself.

But the initial formalities wore off eventually. It started with forgetting a half empty coffee mug on the coffee table, no coaster. And then leaving your books on the couch, promising to pick up later to never really doing it. And then mixing your clothes with Wonwoo's in the laundry basket.

But Wonwoo didn't mind any of it.

All of it was just so ... Domestic.

It almost felt like he was married to you. And as much as he tried to stop himself from indulging too much in that thought, it always creeped back up in his mind everytime you fell asleep on his shoulder after your routines sunday movie nights.

His ears grew red everytime he thought of it - you as his wife, in your little home.

And that's the whole problem. You kept making him have fantasies about things he knew he could never have. But he just couldn’t stop.

His patience had really only been tested since very recently. You had recently come across Lazada - the wondrous online shopping platform for cheap and the poor people. “Look the prices are so less, wonu-ya! For a dress that cute!” you’d exclaimed that day, bouncing as you showed him the phone with the lazada tab opened,a cute pink floral summer dress on display. “And the first order has free shipping!”

A few dresses had arrived and wonwoo saw you try out the new clothes one after the other, most of them perfectly fitting your figure. He loved seeing you smile like that, happy over getting good quality clothes at a lower price.

The real problem arose now.

The summer was getting only hotter. And Lazada was on your head like a fever. And you kept ordering increasingly more and more revealing clothes now.

Wonwoo told himself he didn't mind. You were not his something. You were not together. He shouldn’t be deciding what you wear.

But he also felt his jaw tighten everytime he saw you in a new and a more revealing dress ordered online. Saw you twirl on your toes as your little summer skirt flared, showing the sight of your safety shorts inside. Saw you wear a tight thigh-length shiny party dress when you went clubbing with your friends. Saw you sit on the couch with all of your friends in short denim shorts, riding up and up as you sat in all inappropriate positions.

He’s been trying to hold his thoughts a lot, he really is. But he has got a little bit of a limit too, and he really just wants nothing more than to put his teeth on your thighs and your neck and mark them up red and blue. You really don’t know how much power you were holding onto him.

But thats not even all of it.

Since it was summer, you had decided to roam around the house in little satin negligees. Fucking negligees.

The first time you wore it, wonwoo had to stop breathing and take hold of every muscle in his body to not get embarrassingly hard in front of you. It was so tiny, it was just like a little piece of cloth clinging on you. You had given him a little twirl show, “isn’t it so cute? I love its pink colour so much!”

Wonwoo itched to tear the pretty pink off you.

He didn’t though. Because he had a little self-restrain left in him.

He wondered if you were really as innocent as you acted or did you know the effect you had on him. He was a man after all. He swears its like you know how big a crush he has on you. You are just playing with him too much.

Thankfully you didnt wear negligees more often after that, at least when he was at home.

Right now, wonwoo is opening the door to your apartment slowly. It's quite late, he doesn't want to wake you up accidentally.

“Wonu-ya!” you call out from inside your room, “Wonu-ya, ah, great you're home! Can you come in for a bit, please? I need some help.”

Wonwoo hums, taking off his bag on the couch and going inside your room to see what you possibly needed help with and-

His breath stopped, eyes dilating, starting to feel his pants tightening a little.

You were wearing a lacy sheer negligee. Again. And it was even more provocating than last time. It was a deep purple colour, contrasting perfectly with your pretty skin tone. Your bare back was completely exposed to him, your hair pulled aside over your shoulders and the dress completely unzipped. You were looking back at him, a hand reaching back in a way that your pose wasn’t helping making it any less provocating. Your legs were slightly spread on the bed, your silky thighs on perfect view for him with your night shorts fitting you like underwear.

“Wonu-ya, can you help me zip? I can’t reach it!” you pout at him, your lips looking glossed up and puckered out and he wanted nothing more than kiss and bite them red.

No way he was misinterpreting this, no way you were not doing this on purpose.

“y/n, do you realise i am a man?” he wasn’t growling, but he was holding the urge of it.

“Hm, i know,” you say, looking at him with big not-so-innocent eyes, “but i trust you!”

So wonwoo gulps down, and sits behind you on the bed, beginning to zip your dress up. The lace hugs you tighter as he does, highlighting your delicate curves and features. You feel so small under his dark gaze, his big hands could hold the entirety of your waist. He can see your colourbones from this angle and he just wants to bite and kiss all over them so bad.

He unknowingly rests his hands on the curve of your back. His heart is beating loudly, he could feel it in his ears. You lean back into his touch like a satisfied cat.

“y/n,” his voice is angry and restrained, “what are you trying to do?”

You sigh, looking back at him, your gaze seductive from under your dark lashes, “are you really asking? Do i have to say it out for you?”

The grip on your hips tightens. “Are you sure about it?”

More and more you act up like this, more and more he feels like a lusty caveman with no coherent thoughts in his mind other than those of desire. He took a heavy breath as you twisted your your waist to look back at him, your hand snaking up to rest on his chest. He glanced down at your hand, and then involuntarily at your cleavage visible from the thing your call a dress.

“Oh, for fucks sake, Wonwoo, I have not been whoring myself out like this for you to not fuck me!”

“Mark your words,” that was the last sane thing Wonwoo would speak that night before crashing his lips with yours.

You moaned immediately, feeling his rough lips fight against your softer ones. You climbed on his lap, feeling his hardness pushing against your thighs immediately. He kisses you intensely and aggressively, his teeth grazing against your lower lip. His mind was fogging up, intoxicated by your taste. Your strawberry lip gloss was on his lips and on his tongue and your arms were tight around his neck, one hand tangled in his hair, playing and pulling it.

The more sounds you made into the kiss, the harder his bulge pressed against you. You pull away momentarily, catching your breath and panting. His glasses were fogged up.

“Shit, Wonwoo, what fucking monster are hiding in those pants,” you mumbled, looking down to his crotch and reaching to touch him, but he holds your wrist before you could.

“You did this to me, baby,” he said, pulling off his glasses, not caring to even see where he threw them, “and I'm gonna make you take care of it.”

You knew how strong Wonwoo was just by looking at his big and built body. But you didn't realise how much that would help making you wetter as he manhandled you and pinned you down on the bed. Both of his knees encaged your hips, as he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off swiftly.

You chest faltered looking at his gorgeous body. It's not the first time you had seen him shirtless - y'all have had enough beach trips in your friendship for that. But this was different, you could thirst over him now, touch him and feel him up. Besides, he'd built up so much more than when you had last seen his naked torso the time y'all went to pool together.

You mumbled a fuck under your breath, your hand reaching to touch his abs. He chuckled. “Like what you see, huh?”,

Wonwoo doesn't give you a chance to answer, holds your wrist down and hold you down as he attacked your lips with his once again. You whined in his mouth, and that just made him kiss you deeper, hotter, wetter. His kisses went south to your jaw, down your neck. He nipped on the sweet skin of the crook of your neck, sucking and biting and bruising it. Marking it. Marking you.

His hands left your wrists to travel across your body, slipping under your dress and touching your warm waist. His hands are cold against your skin. You hear a tssrrt, and you look down to see Wonwoo ripping off your slip dress, and pulling it apart to expose your bare breasts to the cold air.

He tears apart from neck to look at your tits, and you feel your nipples harden under his gaze. He licks his lips vilely, before grabbing your boobs in his hands. He shoved his face in between the valley of your boobs, taking a breath full of your scent there before taking out his tongue and devouring you like a starved animal.

He looked up at you like that.

And his once so innocently handsome face looking so damn sinful right now, his eyes staring at your with deep lust. “I can't even count the number of times I've secretly oggled at these beautiful things, wanting to do all the ungodly stuff with them. Fuck, y/n.”

You moaned as he took your right nipple in his mouth, sucking harshly as his hands reach to play with your left. Your hands snake up his hair, clutching a handful, tugging it.

You gasp when his hand suddenly slipped down your shorts and panties, touching the skin right above your cunt. “shit, wonu!”

“Fucking slut,” Wonwoo mumbled against your skin, “making me desperate for you for so long, just because you're a cockslut.”

“Only for you,” you mutter under your breath, as Wonwoo's fingers inch downwards.

Wonwoo chuckles, “say that again, baby,”

“I am only your cockslut, Wonwoo,” you said, face red with shame and lust.

Wonwoo chuckled more as he dipped his fingers between your folds at those words. You let out a loud and erotic moan, legs clenching reflexively. Wonwoo played around the sensitive skin for a while before he found the throbbing bundle of nerves which got him the reaction from you which he was waiting for.

His fingers continued to rub over your clit in circular motion, lips moving downwards to kiss and lick and nipples at the skin of your belly. He managed to make the entirety of your torso cover in his spit in absolutely no time. “Lift, babe."

He pulled your shorts and your panties off your legs in one swift motion. Your legs shyly closed instinctively, but Wonwoo spread them back apart by you knees, “oh, you're shy now?”

He didn't expect a reply, diving into the heat between your legs. He kisses your inner thighs and your outer folds and gave your clitoris a few kitten licks, making you moan like a bitch in heat. He shoved his tongue in your hole, licking up your juices like a starved child.

“Fuck, you're so damn tasty, my love,” he mumbles as he explores your cunt with his tongue. You yelp at how deep his tongue reaches inside you, tickling against your g-spot.

You pull his face away with all of your strength when you feel the tension in your lower abdomen starting to build, “fuck, wonu stop,”

He stops immediately, looking up at you with concern for second, “shit, baby, I'm sorry, did i overstep-”

“No,” you interrupt, too desperate, “no, wonu. I, uh, i am close, but I don't wanna cum like this,” you say shyly, watching the concern in Wonwoo's eyes turn into the dark lust again, “fuck, I want to cum on your cock, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo smirked. “Scared me there, baby, and all for a cock? You want my cock, yeah? I'll give you some.” Wonwoo unzipped his jeans and wriggled out of them and his boxers, freeing his red angry cock which slapped against his toned stomach.

Your mouth watered at the sight. You just didn't happen to be kidding when you called that thing a fucking monster. You reached out to touch it but he slapped your hand away. Wonwoo pumped his dick a few times, coating it with your slick on his fingers, before lining it with your hole, wasting no time.

He trusted in deep, making you let out a choked sound. You winced at the initial sting as Wonwoo waited a second in you to let you get used to his size. He pulled out slowly, leaving only his top inside, before hammering back in, making you moan again.

He did it a few times before catching a stable pace, and you felt the coil in your stomach form again already. “ahh, wonu, need you to touch me,”

“Shit, nothing is ever enough for you, is it? Always begging and whining for more,” Wonwoo said, marking his sentence with a slap on your thighs before reaching his fingers to play with your clit, flickering and fondling it between his index and middle.

He bent down to kiss you again. You grabbed his broad muscular shoulders, your nails digging in as you reached nearer to your climax. It seemed so did Wonwoo, by the way his breath hitched in your mouth.

“Fuck, princess, where do I come?” Wonwoo muttered in your mouth.

You grabbed onto him tightly, legs squealing his hips as you were just on the book, “inside me? You could do that, I have the morning-after pills.”

You feel Wonwoo hum in your mouth as he increased his pace again, chasing both your orgasms.

You reach your high first, vision whitening and body going limp at the sensation, feeling the happy harmones release in your veins. Wonwoo comes soon after - you involuntarily spasming around his dick giving just the right amount of stimuli for him to cum deep in you, his semen hot inside.

He pulled out, hissing a little, and fell on the bed beside you. You rolled over lazily by his side, dumping your arm around his chest and resting your head on his shoulder. He scoots closer, cuddling you in.

“Shit, that was so…” you didn't even have enough words to describe a sex that good.

Wonwoo chuckled a little. “I tore your new dress, sorry for that.”

“Don't worry about it,” you giggle, “Lazada has a new sale coming. I'll buy many more for you to tear in the future.”

#svt #seventeen #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo smut #wonu #wonu smut

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glow-worms-are-believers · 11 months

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Full Baby Back Guarantee Not Included (dp x dc)

“Look, lady. It was a joke, ok? I don’t actually want your newborn baby,” Danny said as he held up his hands trying to back away from the woman with a bundle of blankets in her arms.

“We made a deal, you can’t back out now,” The woman said as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Your kind can’t break their words.”

“My kind?” Danny exclaimed incredulously, because what the hell was she on. “Lady, you are delusional.”

Then his eyes caught on the awkward way the woman was holding onto the bundle and he frowned.

“Wait a second.” The halfa’s eyes went big. “Is that even your kid?!” his voice turning into a shriek at the end. “Did you kidnap some random child?”

“It’s my sister’s,” the woman cut him off coldly. “She and the father are both dead.” That was pretty awful, Danny thought as he winced. But then she turned to look blankly at him.

“Nobody will look for her.”

Dear skies above, he was supposed to be the ghost here, why was he the one getting chills.

“Holy fuck,” the halfa let out softly.

He had to get that baby away from that psychopath.

“What is it you want again?” Danny asked faintly.

“Make me the new chief operating officer,” the woman answered.

“What?” The halfa choked out.

“They’re giving the position to Shwartz this monday. You need to make sure that doesn’t happen,” she continued evenly as if she wasn’t currently selling a baby in exchange for a fucking promotion.

“Yeah sure, deal,” Danny answered, eager to get away from her as soon as possible.

“Give me your word,” she insisted.

“I give my word, I swear,” the halfa said. “Gimme the kid and you’ll get your job.”

The woman looked at him for a second before seemingly being satisfied.

She extended the bundle of blankets towards him and handed him the swaddle baby. As soon as the kid was in his arms, Danny zipped away, fully intent on never seeing the woman again. He sure as hell was not getting her that promotion. Not that he would’ve been able to, what the hell, lady? At least research better before making a deal for your sister's baby!

Though in retrospect, it was a good thing she hadn't.

As Danny flew over a few buildings, he thanked the ancients the woman hadn’t had any ghost restraining tech, and only the summoning ritual. Which was a thing he had not been aware existed but he he would have to circle back to that because, right now, he had a whole ass baby nestled in his arms.

What the hell was his life.

Danny slowed down the flight once he felt he had put enough distance between them and the psycho and landed on a nice patch of green next to a road. He looked around and took notice that they’d gotten out of whatever that city had been, or at least the more populated part. He gave a quick look for people or cameras around before de-transforming. If he was spotted with a baby in his arms, his human look would help his chance of not getting shot.

The halfa started walking away from the road and towards the green vegetation. Still walking, he took a deep breath before looking down at the baby.

“You ok, kid?” Danny asked softly as their small (so so tiny!) face twitched in their sleep. “Oh you’re sleepy, huh?” he murmured gently. “Sleep tight sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

Then he secured the blankets around the baby again, making sure none of the wind was reaching her. It was probably a her? The blankets were pink but he couldn’t know for sure since the psycho had only called her an it. Danny felt his lips curl. And as the night replayed in his mind, he felt the weight of the situation settle down on him.

Ancients what was he going to do?

He couldn’t pull up in Amity with a baby in his arms and no explanation of how he got her. He’d be arrested for kidnapping, which was technically absolutely what he was doing. But then again he couldn't just give that baby back to her aunt.

“What are you doing here?” came a voice from ahead of him.

Danny startled out of his thoughts to find himself facing an older man in a suit with a severe look on his face. The halfa instinctively brought the baby closer to his chest and the movement drew the older man’s eyes towards it.

Danny could see the realization of what it was he was holding settle and the man's face softened. He sighed deeply as his gaze went back up to meet the halfa’s.

“Despite what the media fancy printing, Wayne manor is not actually an orphanage.”

Danny had no idea what he was talking about so he just stayed silent and did his best not to look like someone who kidnapped babies.

The older man took the silence in stride. “If you need some help, there are programs to help young people in your situation,” he continued delicately.

Danny frowned as he tried to figure out what the guy meant by that before his eyes grew wide. “I’m not her dad!” He cried.

“I see,” the man said evenly as he looked back down at the bundle. Danny held her closer in response. “I see,” the guy repeated with a slight change in his voice.

The two held each other’s gaze for a moment before the older man sighed again.

“Shall we continue this inside? It is getting windy and we wouldn’t want the little one to suffer, would we?” The man offered in a soothing tone.

Danny hesitated but one look at the kid’s face that had grown pink from the cold decided him.

“Ok,” Danny said. “Lead the way.”

And with that the three of them started across the grassy lawn.

#Alfred think the baby is Danny's sibling and they ran away from an abusive household #I know this is all tropes that have been done before but dammit I'm doing them again #The batam trying to be in denial of the imminent new addition to the family or unsurprised and way too chill about it #Danny thinking he's found an ally into getting himself kicked out with Damian #only for Damian to get attached to the baby and then refuse to let Danny abandon his “sister”#Danny trying to get out of this mess of lies without letting it out that he 1) is not human 2) has totally kidnapped that baby #dc x dp #dp x dc #roxpoxwrote #roxpox

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aclowntiny · 11 months

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Things Stray Kids Do That Make Your Heart Flutter

My true Stray Kids debut! Been wanting to do this for a while 😁

Bang Chan

♡ Walks with an arm around your waist, pulling you a little closer if anything or anybody passes by you

♡ Texts you to make sure you arrive and get home safe every night you go out late

♡ Lets you know he’s proud to he yours, whether it’s with the notes he leaves around for you to find or with his words as he holds you tight

♡ Holds onto the ends of your sleeves for you when you put on your jacket so they don't roll up uncomfortably

♡ Smiles into almost every kiss you share

Lee Know

♡ Takes your coat off slowly and purposefully, eyes never leaving yours

♡ Smirks whenever his arms begin winding around you

♡ Pulls you deeper into kisses with a gentle tug to your bottom lip

♡ Reminds you just how oh so irresistible you are, whether it’s when he caves to your request or as his tongue is swiping to your lips

♡ Presses kisses to the backs of your hands

Changbin

♡ Shamelessly checks you out, then blushes and waves at you when you catch him

♡ Tells you with a proud smirk that he’s bored, let’s kiss

♡ Nips lightly at your earlobes to see how you react

♡ His hands fall onto you whenever he bursts out laughing, as if to draw you into the mirth

♡ Cups your cheeks and tells you sweet nothings in a cutesy voice before pulling your lips into his

Hyunjin

♡ Has a whole page in his sketchbook dedicated to you and adds to it sometimes when he can’t help but capture your beauty

♡ Makes eye contact across the room as he’s running a hand through his hair

♡ Absentmindedly traces patterns on your back as you sit together

♡ Squeezes your hand when your fingers interlace

♡ Tells you he could get lost staring at the stars in your eyes

Han

♡ Puts his guitar pick in his mouth, eyebrows raising in surprise at your gaze upon him

♡ Plays with the rings you wear when you’re holding hands

♡ Nuzzles into your neck when you pull him close

♡ Calls you every variation of gorgeous he can think of, often as a whisper between repeated kisses

♡ Remembers all your favorite things so he can surprise you by pulling them out when you least expect it

Felix

♡ Tugs your hand into his lap like it’s his precious treasure

♡ Surprises you with a batch of brownies he tells you he made just for you

♡ You tell him you like his necklace and as soon as the words are leaving your lips he’s unclasping it, asking if you'd like to try it on

♡ Zips you into his coat to keep you warm, giggling as you walk in unison

♡ Covers your cheeks with kisses before moving down to your lips

Seungmin

♡ Playfully cups your cheeks

♡ Pulls blankets up tightly around your shoulders when you lay down

♡ Reminds you when you’re stressed out that you can tell him anything you know, he wants to be your safe place

♡ Slides a teasing hand up the back of your shirt whenever he’s been out in the cold, chuckling at your reaction

♡ Fixes your hair for you whenever he can, running a hand gently through the strands of it to move it back into place

I.N

♡ Tells you every single time he sees you that you look so pretty

♡ The biggest smile spreads across his face and his arms open wide whenever he sees you unexpectedly

♡ Comes up with creative excuses to get you to wear his clothes, ranging from the temperature to seeing how that color would look on you

♡ Pecks your lips a few times for good measure before leaning into a more passionate kiss

♡ Holds both of your hands in his, gently running his thumbs over the backs of them as he looks at you

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han #felix #seungmin #i.n #stray kids x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #my skz debut! 🥳

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justwinginglife · 1 month

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The Waiting Game

The line between friends and lovers is dangerously thin and Soshiro Hoshina likes to fucking cartwheel down that tightrope like it's his personal plaything.

Any stranger walking by could see he was clearly checking you out, but if asked, he'd simply shrug and say something about how it was his duty as your friend to make sure your fly was zipped or your socks were matching. He never thought to make himself less obvious as he took in the sight of your shirt that dangled just a little too low or your pants that hugged your curves just a little too tight. He didn't have to. If you claimed to notice his wandering gaze, you'd be setting yourself up for a witty rebuttal. He might say, "Oh, look who's paying so much attention to me, if I didn't know better, I'd say you liked me," or even, "Don't go telling me you didn't wear those clothes on purpose, we both know the truth." He had all sorts of banter at the ready, quips locked and loaded. He wanted to corner you, to checkmate you, to coax a confession from your supple lips. Of course he loved you. But it was much more fun to make you admit you loved him too.

And you did. You wore that shirt on purpose, you wore those pants on purpose. You bent over in those pants on purpose. But two could play at this game, and you were awfully good at chess.

If he was a tightrope walker, you were a sword swallower. You could take anything he'd throw at you, gulp it down, lick your lips, and have room for seconds. Maybe throw in a burp for good measure.

So the circus act continued, both of you juggling offense and defense, both of you thinking yourself the lion tamer. It was anyone's guess at this point, who would cave in first.

You pictured the two of you on your deathbeds, your hands wrinkled with age, still trying to wring a confession from each other's throats. It was honestly a terrifying notion, thinking that eighty years from now, your feelings might accompany you to the grave, unvoiced, unreciprocated. But it hadn't been eighty years yet, it had only been one, and your pride was still in prime condition, even despite Soshiro's attempts to wear it down.

When he bragged to you about his hot date, eager for your reaction, you simply pointed him to your favorite flower shop and told him what to buy her. When he ended up not going through with it because some mysterious illness overtook him, an illness that only lasted the length of what would have been the date, you simply smirked and remarked on how convenient it was that his condition was so particular. He had shrugged, saying, "Maybe I was allergic to her, who knows?" You had laughed and he had smiled. Then you both went about your usual day, stealing time from each other whenever you could, sneaking glances, subtly inching closer, the distance both an inch and a galaxy apart.

The gap only widened when Captain Ashiro relayed to the Third Division news of the Winter Ball. It was like prom for soldiers, and when you heard the announcement, you felt like you were right back in high school- everything infamously familiar, right down to the nerves that threatened to swallow you whole.

You could always pull the, "You're single, I'm single, let's go as friends," card. But you weren't sure that either of you would be content with that resolution. Neither one of you wanted to resign yourselves to a night of awkwardly sitting at a side table, using small talk to fill the simmering silence, as you watched other couples slow dance their way into oblivion.

But unfortunately for the both of you, rather than declare a draw, your little game with each other continued, even as the event drew nearer. You'd ask him who he was going with, feigning nonchalance, and he'd dodge the question, feigning ignorance.

At some point, you bought yourself a dress, though you had no idea why. There was only a week to go, and still, no one had asked you for the pleasure of your company on that night, not even him. You weren't sure you should even go. But still, you let your hopes drape from a hanger in your closet, in case maybe he decided to overturn the chessboard, throw the match, ask you out.

Narumi beat him to the punch.

When you asked him why he was asking you so late in the game, he merely shrugged, saying he hadn't realized the ball was happening in the first place, but now he knew and he wanted you.

Soshiro had caught wind of it.

He ignored you until an hour before the dance.

He knew you liked to hide on the roof when you got nervous, and as he climbed the stairs to the top, he begged you to be there. He hoped you were having second thoughts about going with Narumi. He hoped you were pacing in your dress, waiting for him to whisk you away, because he was ready to whisk you away. He had dragged his feet through this whole fucking charade, and now he suddenly found his own pace too exceedingly, disgustingly slow for his liking.

When he got to the roof, all that awaited him was a cold breeze and the night sky. He collapsed on the floor, leaning back to take in all the stars. He didn't care anymore if he got his suit dirty, he only wore it for you anyway. His finger traced patterns of constellations as the white of his breath stained the air. He wished on every single star that he could see you tonight, all dressed up and gorgeous. He didn't have to see you to know you looked stunning. But he had planned to go home after he finished this sulking session. He didn't want to see how happy you looked with Narumi. Of all the people, why did it have to be him? The idea of you with anyone else but him made him ache, but the idea of you with Narumi made him want to tie a noose around his neck.

Another half hour of brooding later, he decided he needed to go home. That, or freeze to death, which would serve him right. But he turned towards the door and suddenly, there you were, his light in the dark, his warmth in the cold. And you were dazzling. He knew you would be. You always were, no matter what you were wearing.

"Y-you're here."

You nodded. "I'm here. And you're here. Why are you here?"

He pulled his jacket tighter around him. "This is your spot."

You raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it is. Were you looking for me?" You tried to keep the hopefulness out of your voice, but it seeped into the frosty air all the same.

He fidgeted with his cufflinks, nodding slowly.

You began walking over to him, and he knew you were going to sit down so he quickly took his jacket off for you to sit on. He didn't want to ruin your dress.

You shook your head at him. "You look freezing, put your jacket back on. How long have you been out here anyway?" You threw his jacket back around his shoulders, plopping down next to him, unbothered by your dress.

He blushed and looked away. "That's not important."

The silence resumed.

"It's your favorite color." You blurted out suddenly, desperate to fill the air with something, with anything.

He immediately knew you meant your dress. He had noticed. "It's nice."

You coughed.

He chuckled. "Alright, it's more than nice. You look breathtaking. Seriously, I'm having trouble breathing with you so close to me." He teased as he nudged you with his shoulder, trying to make light of the awkward situation.

"You don't look so bad yourself. Even for someone who's half frozen to death. So why were you looking for me?"

He bit his lip. "Had a, uh, question... for you."

You settled your head on his shoulder and you felt him tense up. "And what's this question of yours that's so important you almost gave yourself frostbite?"

"Will you.... will you go to the dance with me?" He held his breath as the words left his mouth.

You laughed. "Little late, don't you think? We're about a half hour away from it."

He groaned. "I know, I know. But don't go with Narumi. Please don't. He wouldn't know romance if it shit in his lap. He doesn't know how to treat a woman."

You smirked. "And you do?"

He looked at you properly for the first time that night, his gaze locked on yours with a sudden sense of determination. "Yes, I do. If that woman is you. I know everything about you. I have to. Knowing you is the second greatest pleasure of my life."

"And..." The words caught in your throat, "And what's the first?"

"Loving you."

Your heart soared in your chest. "I love you too."

"So will you be my date to the dance? And the rest of my life?"

You kissed him in response.

Suddenly the cold faded from your bodies, the frigid air rescinding itself from your lungs, as your warmth intermingled in a display of passion.

"So, what should I call this, checkmate?" You teased him as you pulled away from his lips, leaving him wanting more.

He rolled his eyes but nothing could make him less smitten than he was right now. "I call this me throwing the match."

"Well, better late than never, baby."

You kissed him again.

And then the both of you danced the rest of the night into oblivion together.

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #anime #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina #oneshot #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #anime fanfic #fluff

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quackstr · 23 days

Text

late night hours

summary: boss!walter takes you in his office

tags: porn what plot, workplace sex, riding, blowjob/ oral sex (m receiving), female reader, use of “slut”

word count: 2.2k

inspiration: rework of a fic of reader x karl mayer, which was inspired by his relationshop with bree.

it all started with a little of wine in his dimly lit office.

just hours later, you ended up laid on top his desk, your legs spread with him between. there was no time for careful undressing, the detective was simply too impatient for that: there were more buttons ripped apart and zips undone with teeth than clothes being handled appropriately and slowly.

and when he FINALLY pulls that tight little dress off of you, he relishes in the sight of your matching black lingerie, which tells one simple truth: you'd been planning this way before you even walked in.

walter was the type to be absolutely clueless to the effect he had on the ladies: what with his tall, muscular frame that had him towering over anyone. so perfect, yet so humble. which somehow made it worse…

you let him whisper sweet nothings with that deep, smooth voice as he sucks at your exposed neck before pushing him down to his chair with your stiletto. walter gives a low whistle as your heel slowly traces his chest, downwards towards his crotch. the shoe playfully rubs and teases him, repeating this taunting motion until walter is groaning.

"fuck-- baby- you're killing me over here--" he moans out, a smirk growing across his lips.

"am i?" you tease.

once you were satisfied with his begs, you jump off the desk and immediately fall to your knees. walter watches excitedly as you take your place between his thighs, removing his sweater and tossing it to the floor like every article of clothing before it.

you unfasten his belt, making sure to keep eye contact the whole time. eventually, after releasing himself from the prison of his pants, walter blows a deep sigh of relief.

you undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt and leave soft, sloppy kisses down his chest, producing a trail of red lipstick stamps.

then, you lick at his muscular abdomen and lower your point of worship at a leisurely pace, until you reach his cock, aching and throbbing as if it were about to jump out of his boxers at any moment. drooling, you mouth at it through the fabric, walter’s low growls filling the air.

it is a pathetic, yet hauntingly beautiful sight: your panting around the imprint of his dick and sniffing at his intoxicating scent.

"oh, baby, you're drooling everywhere." he teased.

you scowl at him.

biting down on his boxers, you gradually manage to pull it down with just your teeth - walter watches with a smug look on his face, sinking back into his seat.

a groan spills from his lips as you pull down his boxers, unleashing his dick… all 7 inches..

you gulp - his cock is monstrous in length and girth.

veins trace the length and it seems to throb with your teasing touches, begging for more. as if your body moved by itself, his tip slips between your lips.

it feels hot. warmth fills your mouth as his dick sinks down your throat.

"good girl." a low grumble leaves his lips.

his words tremble as his cock disappears between your lips, and for the 3 inches which still evade your lips by the time you start to gag, you wrap your hand around and began to massage.

his girth is so impressive so even your hand struggles to handle him. for the length lodged inside your mouth, you give a gentle sunction.

"do you know how sexy you look with my cock down your throat?"

his hand moves to the back of your head, giving light guidance to your movement. the room fills with your lewd sucking noises. walter’s hand urges you to take more and more.

you allow him to push you down until your lips reach the base. mere seconds pass before you begin to struggle and gag uncontrollably, and a few more seconds pass before walter releases the back of your head.

"look at you, taking me so well--" he chuckles at your panting.

you take a second to catch your breath before you return to working. you can hear him suck in air sharply as you envelope one of his balls. walter groans as he leans back further in his chair.

"if i'd known what a good little cocksucker you were, I would've had you down here ages ago." he laughs.

"shut up." you spit out between gentle sucks, glaring at him as you stroke the length of his cock.

"love it when you talk back." walter says, holding up your hair into a ponytail as you return to sucking his length. he was a secret control freak, and as much as he loved watching you take the lead, he thought you had been doing that for long enough now.

just as he gently pushed down on your head, walter slowly lifts his leg and gently presses his heel into the flesh of your ass, driving you closer to him and goading more of his cock deeper inside your throat.

tears welling in the corners of your eyes, you continue to take as much of walter as he needed. you study his reactions, taking note of what he likes. quite funnily, walter’s eyes always seem to roll back into his head whenever you tease the slit of his tip; equally, you could never swirl your tongue around his dick without hearing a series of praises and grunts.

"fuck, baby, i'm so close---!" he groans out.

with those words, you quicken your pace, your head bobbing up and down with an impressive velocity. his hips begin to roll uncontrollably, shoving more of himself in you. your tongue presses against the underside of his cock, twisting and working with great drive.

walter drinks up the delicious sight, only made hotter by your submission to his hand. if only he could have you here, underneath his desk and working at his cock, during the day.

walter grunts loudly again and you feel his cock twitch violently inside your mouth.

"yea- here it comes, baby." you stifle your gag reflex and sheathe the entirety of his dick down your throat, choking as your feel the warm release pour down your throat.

for a few moments too long, walter holds your head down, rutting into you and releasing the final pieces of himself deep inside.

your head shoots up, having swallowed all his cum, albeit not without any struggle. still, walter continues to pump at his cock and hold your head at the crown of his cock. pushing your tongue out and awaiting the last of his load, the final ropes of cum spurt out.

however, you severely underestimate the power at which his cum shoots out, because whilst some of his load lands on your tongue as planned, it shoots across your whole face, including your lips, nose and eyelids.

with his index and middle fingers, walter wiped his semen off your face, scooping up the entirety and holding it to your lips.

"suck it."

your lips part to his demand and swallow his fingers. he urges his thick fingers inside until the knuckles were at your lips. walter presses his fingers onto your tongue, forcing his flavours around the inside of your mouth. your eyes showed hunger and he was feeding you.

walter taps his thigh, and you straddle his lap, his fingers still entrapped by your lips. then, incredibly slowly, he releases his fingers with a POP.

he draws you in for a kiss, a deep and passionate kiss. walter tastes himself on your tongue, and he loves how fucking filthy it is. your roll your hips into his dick, already growing hard again, and your ass is met by a firm smack on your ass and a loud yelp falling from your lips.

walter’s fingers tease at your pussy through the fabric whilst he laughes at your soft moans and whimpers. unable to support yourself, your arms wrap around his neck, with your head falling into his neck and inhaling his aftershave.

"you're soaked for me, baby," he teases as he continues to play with you like a toy. "been deprived of a good time for a while, haven't you?"

his hand slips inside your panties and presses himself between your lips. you hover over the man's cock, somehow already fully erect again, as you rock your hips into his fingers.

your moans are really loud. fortunately for the two of you, everyone else had already gone home: the two of you could be as noisy as you wanted, which walter almost definitely plans for you to. he mercilessly plays with your pussy, stunned at how your body reacts so beautifully to his touch.

you are too overcome with rapture to notice a strong arm wrap around and undo your bra in one swift movement. he grabs your tit, squeezing it tight.

in the same breath, you slip out of your panties, your entrance pressing against his aching cock. walter hugs you close, squeezing you against his well-built hairy chest. as he leans over to grab a condom, walter accidentally causes you to grind against his cock - the two of you moan out in unison.

walter rolls the condom on and feeds a generous glob of spit to his cock, rubbing it around. you place your hands on his shoulder before you lower yourself, allowing his dick to sink up slowly into your pussy.

whimpers escape your mouth. walter was just so fucking big.

"good girl--" he sigs, his nostrils flaring. "you're taking my cock so well."

you exhale in pleasure as you began to take in more and more of him. struggling to take in his beastly size, you hug him tight, though it results in his face buried in your tits. walter laps up a nipple and gives gentle suctions to your breast.

eventually, walter bottoms out with a deep groan erupting from his lips. his dick seems to press against your deepest insides. the two of you simply keep still for a few seconds, though it feels more like minutes. then, you begin to move again.

at first, it is slow and sensual, with the two of you falling into a passionate kiss, which seems to last forever and taste like paradise. his lips are soft yet hungry. his tongue is rough yet loving. his hands are gentle yet greedy. hips roll against eachother and you allow yours to rock deliciously into his body.

still with slow movements, walter grabs your hips and start to fuck upwards into your pussy. you match his pace and meet his tender thrusts. however, the absolute avarice in his eyes tells you that this gentleness and patience won’t last for too long.

and almost as if you had jinxed it, walter’s expression transitions to a smirk. the second warning is his tightening grasp on your hips, before his pace quickens suddenly.

as his rhythm evolves from leisurely to merciless, your moans fill the room, "oh- my- god-!"

"fuck- baby, you're fucking squeezing me." he almost reprimands, though the smile on his face suggests only amusement.

a harsh slap meets your ass.

fucking up into you at an ungodly speed, walter hugs you close by the hips. with no other choice, you collapse onto him, clutching him by his black curls.

“some good dick can turn any good girl into a naughty girl.” he teases.

“ngh-“ you’re too crazed to make any intelligible response. and walter smiles with self-satisfaction from watching you break yourself on his cock.

you pant out with each deep thrust.

“yes- yes- yes-“

suddenly, he slows and lets you go, leaning back into a relaxed position. a firm smack to your ass prompts you into moving again.

with your hands places on his chest for support, you throw your ass onto his dick. not quite meeting walter’s speed nor his ruthlessness, but it’s close.

walter leans back on his arms behind his head, amused from watching your feeble attempts to take his cock.

you regain your composure as your swirl your hips faster and ground into walter more and more. even for just a split second, you see his smug disguise slip, revealing an expression of pure lust.

you throw your head back as you feel your climax approach.

"what a good fucking slut." walter praises as his hands return to your ass and hips.

"yes-! yes--!" you exclaim through an exceptionally deep thrust. “hnghh!!"

his rhythm returns to his previous velocity - except that it is way sloppier.

"say it." walter says between grunts. "say that- you're just a dirty- little- slut— for me to fuck."

"i'm just dirty little slut!" you reply.

another smack.

"a dirty little slut for who?" walter chuckles darkly.

"just for you to fuck and nothing else!”

"good girl." he whispers as he holds you close.

he’s close too, you feel it. his noises are louder. his thrusts are reckless and his speed is slowing. and when you push down hard on his cock, walter just has to still.

"i'm close." he mutters weakly.

"already?"

fucker. you KNEW what you had done to him. your work to tease his cock so expertly was to be at blame.

“walter—“

“come for me.”

his sloppy thrusts grow faster as the two of you cry out in desperation and hunger. you embrace each other tightly as you finally let go of yourselves

the pleasure overwhelms you as you succumb to your orgasm. you slump over walter, who, too, chases his own high, eventually riding it out by swirling your hips around his cock, almost as if to tease out the last of his seed.

although breathless, your lips meet for a tired, messy kiss. walter’s tongue delves into your mouth and presses against your own as if it’s the last droplet of water in a desert.

#henry cavill #smut #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #female reader #walter marshall #drabble #shortquack #night hunter

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leviathanleva · 5 months

Text

Daisy

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader [DARK FIC]

Description: Cooper Howard was not a kind man, he cared for nobody, but himself. Then he found you, a lost little dove, barefoot and crying, torn dress and big innocent eyes staring at him like he was a hero. He knew you’d be a burden, he knew you couldn’t survive in the wasteland, he was doing you a favor.

But he couldn’t pull the fucking trigger...

........................

[5.3k words]

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Chapter 5 "The Coat"

“Get away. Get away! Get away!”

As if the radroach could fucking understand you…

You were perched up several feet above the floor, clinging to a boarded-up window so desperately the old wood was about ready to give under your nails.

After roughly two weeks of sleeping on the ground with your overstuffed backpack as a pillow or curling up uncomfortably in the back seat of a rusted dingy car while the ghoul slept in the front, you’d found shelter. An abandoned, crumbling building that used to be a school if you had to judge by what was left of the paint on the walls, the toppled-over and ransacked lockers, and the sloppy drawings. It was perfect for a night of rest; you’d stumbled upon a mostly empty classroom on the second floor in a good enough condition to make camp. You’d even managed to find a stained old mattress stuffed under a desk while scavenging.

Unfortunately, your exploration had caused enough disturbance and soon you learned that the place wasn’t abandoned, it was infested.

The ghoul had reacted as soon as he’d heard the scuttling of the roaches, flinging both you and the mattress inside the room before slamming the door shut before an orchestral of shots ensued. You would have cried in both love and appreciation if one of the damn things hadn’t crawled out from a crack in the ceiling, now you were just crying.

A nasty shiver wracks you to the core when the oversized bug stops vigorously bumping against the corner of the room and dashes towards you. The skin on your knuckles is scraped off as you rip your hand out of the tight crevice between the boards. Your fingers are soaked, wreaking of lavender as you spray another good chunk of your perfume bottle at the roach before it gets any closer.

It hisses and makes a sharp turn, away from the floral scent and back to trying to climb up the wall. Now you were both suffering, you because this was the only bottle of perfume you’d packed, and the radroach because it was choking on it.

Vile little thing…

You shriek when it skitters over to your backpack, lured in by the tasty goods inside, tapping on it with twitchy antennae. The rations, water, everything you owned were in there and your stomach twists with anxiety as your pulse skyrockets. The fact that the roach was trying to discern if it was worth ripping apart the zipper or not made the whole situation even worse.

It was big, ugly and maybe had an ounce of intelligence. Great…

Spurred on by hopelessness, you contemplate just chugging the perfume bottle at it to deter it.

“Get the frick away from there you nasty – ” with arm bent back and ready to fire you screech one last time because maybe it’ll listen this time.

“– The hell you screechin’ like a banshee for?!”

The gunshots cease shortly before your savior-to-be barges in, practically kicking the door open. When searching eyes find you hanging off the boards nailed to the window his scolding expression shifts, eyebrows knit together and his head tilts to the side. The intense lavender smell clashes into him and he waves a hand over his face with a throaty cough.

“What in God’s – ”

“ – Kill it. Kill it. Kill it! Please!” you stammer on, about ready to crawl up the ceiling if it gets any closer again.

At the sound of the door opening, the roach stops vigorously munching on the strap of your backpack and lifts its antennae high. It zips towards the exit, all scuttling legs and fluttering wings, and dodges the ghoul’s heel when he tries to stomp it dead. He aims the pistol as it dashes down the corridor, the barrel still heavy with smoke, then with a dissatisfied flick of his tongue decides otherwise.

Not worth it.

Then his attention is back to you and he rests his hands on his hips, rancorous that a radroach had managed to teach you how to climb while he’d failed.

“Get the fuck down.” he grumbles and stuffs his weapon back in its holster before shutting the door. The adrenaline subsides and you see his feet dragging as he approaches the laid-out mattress. It’s barely noticeable but after spending a decent amount of time constantly in his presence you’ve learned to distinguish the little changes in the way he carries himself.

He kicks the mattress to the wall and plops down with a gruff moan, leaning back and letting the tension sag off his shoulders.

You manage to pry yourself off the window, gently lowering yourself until your feet reach the floor. Wobbly legs guide you to the ruffled-up backpack for a quick inspection; one of the straps is nearly chewed off, hanging onto a few sturdy threads. You pinch the ruined fabric between your fingers, folding it from side to side with a concerned frown.

There was no way to fix this, not without a sewing kit, and despite practically stuffing the entirety of the vault inside the spacious bag, that was one of the few things you’d not thought of bringing along. There was a chance of finding something of the sort once you reached Tillburry, but for now, you’d have to carry it on one shoulder and pray that the one good strap wouldn’t snap under the weight.

“Mind tellin’ me why this place suddenly smells like a brothel?”

You turn to look back at the ghoul’s disgruntled face as he fishes his canteen out of his bandolier. The black expression already has him bracing for the utter bullshit about to spill from your mouth.

“Well,…the bug came out of nowhere and – ” your eyes roll to the side as you try to string together an explanation that didn’t sound bogus. “ – And you were busy with the rest and I didn’t know what to do.” you’re facing away as you struggle to drag the backpack to the mattress, then let out a small, strangled grunt. You sit on the edge, gracing him with enough room to sprawl out if he wants to. The zipper is forced open before your good hand sinks inside, rummaging for a box of band-aids you knew you’d have a reason to bring along. “And I couldn’t just run out cuz the door was closed…So I sprayed it. With perfume.”

You steal a glimpse of him over your shoulder, bottom lip sucked in between your teeth.

The bastard fucking cackles.

“Jesus Christ, woman…” he wipes a few stray droplets from his chin and you wish he’d do the same with that toothy smirk.

“Quick thinking?” you’re defensive and it makes him crack up even more. You scowl and avert your attention back to your provisions, peeking inside the pack with one eye squinted shut. “I had to do something.”

“That’s the best you came up with?”

The teasing makes your throat clench, but you keep your glare pointed down and away from him. He had the right to say whatever he wanted, he’d kept you relatively safe during your journey even if he made sure to be a prominent pain in the ass while doing so. You were a well-mannered lady, stuck to your moral code, and behaved in the polite way you had been taught. But sometimes the ghoul came dangerously close to having you cuss him out.

“Well, I don’t have a weapon, do I?” you snip and once your fingers finally brush against the familiar band-aid box, you clutch it with frustrated strength and pull it out. “I’m not exactly able to defend myself.”

The wasteland might have started getting on your nerves a little, either that or your friendly neighborhood bounty hunter was rubbing off on you. It was most likely a combination of the two. The lack of proper sleep, limited water, the constant blazing sun, you should have brought a hat, the fact that everything and everyone was suddenly out to have your head on a pike, plus his inability to offer a single sentence that didn’t contain at least one demeaning remark in it. Your patience was being tested, you were cranky, but you’d persevere, you were determined to do so.

“Ain’t gonna happen, Darlin’.” he shuts down your vague proposition, his tone dropping a few octaves as he rests his head against the wall. He lets one of his legs relax flat against the softness of the mattress, the canteen being tapped against his other, into the side of his bent knee and in a lazy fashion, an old habit. “Would sooner give my pistol to the radroach.”

“How nice.” you give him a sleazy smile before letting out your pent-up irritation on the squished box in your hand, ripping off the lid and tossing it away.

Your tantrum has him suppressing more than a few nasty statements. He grits his teeth, swirling his tongue around the sip of water locked in his mouth, a niche way of keeping his lips sealed long enough for his dissatisfaction with your passive-aggression. He swallows before smacking his lips once and swishing around the canteen to check how much more he has left, then finally speaks.

“Lose the attitude.” the typical rasp in his voice is smoothed out after he’s finally wet his gullet. He spares you a lingering glance without the usual dominating intensity present – a good way to ask you to quit it because it’s been a rough day, he’s tired and just wants to brood before shut-eye. “Ain’t gonna get you far.”

You comply with a nasal huff and scoot back against the wall before bringing your knees to your chest with a handful of band-aids tucked between your fingers. Your bleeding hand shakes a tad too much and you lay it over one of your knees to keep it steady. The dying sun rays seep past the boarded-up windows and bounce off your torn-up skin, the thin sheet of blood sparkles and it would have been disturbingly pretty if it didn’t sting like a bitch. You pinch the band-aid wrapper between your teeth and tear it open before covering up your first bruised knuckle.

Sometimes you wondered what was going on in that boiled egg head of his. On some nights he was willing to hold a conversation or re-tell a story from his younger days of surviving in the wasteland and they were gruesome but interesting. Then there were late evenings such as this one, where he’d just sit in silence, eyes distant and recalling scenarios that tugged at the corners of his lips when he thought you weren’t looking. You tried not to engage him when he was entranced, instead just scarfing down a granola bar or a few deviled eggs before curling up and forcing your eyes shut. You hoped he’d tell you one day, maybe when he trusted you enough to open up to deeper topics.

Still…

Talkative or not, he was pleasant company, even though he’d tied you to a tree once because he’d mistaken you trying to hide to relieve yourself as an attempt at running away and cheating him out of his caps.

Your lips purse at the memory.

That particular night had been a rather bumpy ride.

Once your scrapes are thoroughly covered you flex your hand, temporarily satisfied with your handiwork. The ghoul takes off his gloves and secures a beaten-up can of peaches from his bandolier, the distinct number of your vault plastered on the front. He hooks a finger around the clasp and pops it open, then his mouth pinches in a snarl. He pulls his thumb away, a shallow gash painted across and hastily filling with scarlet red.

“Shit.”

It was probably your constant presence over the past weeks and your welcoming and quiet nature synergizing with his spiteful and venomous one, but he didn’t spot you leaning closer until your fingers were wrapping your last band-aid over his cut. Your thumbs rub over his, making sure the thing sticks well.

It’s a stab to the heart because he’s aware there is no underlying intent behind your gentle display, it’s who you are – stupid and soft and too much for the world.

“Stupid t’ waste your last one considering is gonna heal in a few.” he means at as a scold, another lesson he never knew he’d need to teach, but it comes out too hushed, his words are faltering. His jaw locks and his lungs give out when you smile so tenderly and sometimes…

…Sometimes he lies to himself that you’ve only ever smiled like that for him.

After that, he sinks into an ocean of hatred, he gives you a cold shoulder, spits venom, and pushes you back at an arm’s length. Because what was a man to do when he kept beating down a stray dog and it kept nuzzling its snout in his palm? You were supposed to break a week ago, hell, even two weeks ago, start a fit and give him enough reason to leave you behind. The only thing he got was a grumpy hiss every so often when you were beyond sleep-deprived and missing a good cup of coffee.

“It’s okay.” you nod in reassurance and settle back. The sweet scent of his dinner softens the stench of lavender and it reminds you that you’ve been starving since early afternoon. “I have enough gauze to last me a while.” you dig through your provisions before scoring a package of saltines.

You don’t ask him if he wants any because he gives you a lecture every time about rationing your food. Instead, you take three intact crackers and dip them in his can. He stops digging his fingers through the mushy peaches and gives you a look, then speaks.

“Already said I’d take ya t’ Tillburry, Sweetheart.” his actions defy his condescension; he gathers a good amount of syrup on one cracker and presses it into his tongue, making sure not a drop is wasted. “Can stop tryin’a butter me up.”

“Hm?” you blink at him, then rush to fetch out a bottle of water when the crumbs tickle your throat. “I’m not, Mister…” you respond after washing down the tasteless saltines and gasping for air. “We’re a unit now, right? And you do most of the work…so it’s only fair.” it’s sincere and he might not see your face fully as you wipe your mouth and then keep it covered as you speak while chewing, but he’s learned enough to know that if you were hiding something you’d rather keep your tongue tied over lying.

Your reasoning sinks into him like the fangs of a deathclaw and he’s a little annoyed because he’s supposed to be the one telling you that:

“You need more food than me.”

Indeed, he does, but he’s a stingy man who’d rather starve a little and keep moving over stopping somewhere and restocking. He’d barely even taken any food from your vault, most of the tato sack was stuffed with Pip-boys and stimpaks intended for selling, along with a few spring water bottles.

The ghoul reaches over, plucking the larger half of your crackers and you have no plan of complaining, staying true to your word. But then he wiggles the lid completely off the can and sets it between you two and you’re suddenly so overwhelmed, but make no noise, afraid that whatever had possessed him would startle and leave. You scoot a bit closer and are the first to initiate your shared meal, dragging a syrup-dosed slice of peach and cupping a hand under your coated saltine to keep from making a mess of the mattress.

He waits until you’re done, avoiding your skin like the plague, but you only see it as a gentlemanly gesture, blind to the hidden war he’s forced to wage every time you come in contact.

The wasteland is merciless both day and night, the fluctuation of temperature’s had you feeling unwell rather often – going to sleep shivering and then waking up drenched in sweat. The sun had been slow in hiding behind the desolate horizon, but once it had and everything was dim, you noticed it.

There’s a nip in the air, it makes your fingers falter around your treat and the syrup pours down your chin before you’re able to properly stuff it in your mouth. You make a squeamish sound and brace to catch the sticky drops threatening to stain your dress, hunching forward to at least have them fall on the floorboards if you miss.

He clicks his tongue and wipes the back of his palm under your chin, gathering up the viscous sweetness.

“Sloppy girl.” he rumbles, self-taught to be unaffected by the cheery thumbs-up you give him because your mouth is too full for a proper thanks. Then he’s stuck as his first instinct is to lick the syrup off, he muses, and his tongue retreats from pressing against the back of his teeth; he wipes it in his coat instead.

The food might have not been enough to sate you, but a shared meal filled the heart more than the stomach, and you were satisfied with just a light snack spread between you both. The wrapper is crinkled up, but instead of throwing it to the side, you decide to keep it and stuff it in your backpack – a warm memory to keep you going when harder times come.

As you dust off the crumbs from your chest and lap he picks up the can and slurps out the remaining contents at the bottom. He milds out the sugar numbing his tongue with the last two sips of his canteen then lets his head roll to the side, whiskey-colored eyes trained on your sprawled-out legs.

“Y’know this gonna rip in another week or so.” he’s tugging at the stretchy fabric of your tights.

“Mm, probably.” you agree with lips curling back into your mouth, then your brows rise as you consider the unavoidable possibility. “But I’ll just fit in better with the folk here, right? So it’s not all bad. Plus, this won’t be my outfit forever.”

“Always the Positive Patty.” he scoffs with a twisted grin and takes off his hat, leaving it on top of his bandolier.

“Someone has to be.” you’re biting back a cheeky smile as you pull out a thin, creamy yellow blazer from the bottom of your pack and fling it over your shoulders. “You’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, Mister…No offense.”

“ ‘M too old t’ wag my tail anymore, Sweetheart.”

The temperature drop adds a tremble to your voice, the knitted top isn’t enough to fend off the nip at your skin, and regarding the fact that it’s still not pitch black outside, you’re starting to anticipate how much colder it will get. There’s no way for the ghoul to light a fire indoors either, there’s no ventilation for the smoke. Plus, despite the room stinking like lavender, there’s no telling how many radroaches you’ll be welcoming by tempting them with a constant light source. You’ll have to make do with what you’ve got.

“How old?” you cheep while untying your boots, then slide them off with a relieved breath.

Regarding all the difficulties and dangers of the wasteland, walking was your biggest enemy. Your boots were comfortable enough to prevent a majority of blisters, but you still suffered from a few. Your feet were pulsing from overexertion and some nights the discomfort was so intense that you had to knead it out of them.

You stretch your toes with a groan and roll your ankles, earning a few satisfying pops.

“Old.” he answers and you have a feeling that’s all he’s willing to give away.

Your shoulders ache as you flex them, skin raw and red beneath the blazer from the coarse straps of your backpack digging into them daily. You’re sore all over and it’s disheartening sometimes because you often compare your struggles to the ghoul who is unphased by everything. Then you’re reminded you’re still new to this and adjusting and he’s a strict teacher who would have no problem berating you if you weren’t living up to his standards. You’re not doing all that bad, you think, keeping things on a positive note because he sure as hell wouldn’t.

You’re about to reach forward and give your poor feet the love they deserve, but freeze for a moment and then turn to the side and stuff your good hand in the pocket of your pack.

“Now where did I put this thing…”

The sun wasn’t just cruel, it was dehydrating, and you were taught to drink water only when on the brink of passing out. You could manage that, but your lips took the most noticeable damage and you wound up having to coat them with Vaseline to prevent them from cracking.

“Ah, there it is!” you pop the cap off and dab a finger inside before lathering your lips and rubbing them together to spread out the greasy substance evenly.

The ghoul rests beside you, eyes sown shut and head dipped low, already succumbing to exhaustion.

You’re a perceptive little thing and sometimes you like to stick your nose where you shouldn’t so when you take him in while silently smacking your glossy mouth you notice that he is in a worse condition than yours. Thoughtless actions are a part of human nature and it’s been a while since you grew accustomed to the lack of personal space since starting your journey with him. You didn’t consider the potential consequences when you tilted closer to him with a Vaseline-covered forefinger extended, determined to give his chapped mouth a hint of relief.

But he’s also a perceptive man and he too acts on instinct.

A startled cry escapes you when you’re flattened on your back, pinned beneath him, and with a knife to your throat.

“The fuck you think you’re doin’?” he hisses and it’s dangerously prickly.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry.” you squeal and crane your neck to the side to ease the press of the blade. “I just thought your lips were chapped and – ” your eyes crack open to find him puffing ragged breaths only an inch or two from you, your arms are squished between your bodies. He catches your wrist when it bends closer to his snarling maw. “ – It’s just Vaseline. For skin conditions. It’ll help. Promise.”

“D’ I fuckin’ loo – ” he tenses when your finger dashes over the ridges of his mouth.

His entire body goes rigid as the wet sensation is registered in his brain and so does your audacity. The fact that you were this brave has him boiling. Who the fuck did you think you were?

There’s unease coiling in your belly as he stares down at you but doesn’t grasp that you’re there. You can almost see the cogs in his head turning and you make a vain attempt at escaping from his hold before he snaps back to reality.

You might have overstepped a tiny bit. Should have complied when he was about to shut down your act of care instead of forcing it on him before he could even finish speaking. Sometimes you forget the power imbalance because it’s not coded in your system that anyone would be unnecessarily violent with a woman. He’s proven you wrong plenty and it still fails to click and you can’t commit it to memory.

He presses his weight on your perked-up knees, uncaring how your feet dig into his stomach, practically forcing you to fold in half. His teeth grit so hard they threaten to crack.

When the veins on his forehead bulge, you know you’re in for a rough time.

“You fucking little – ”

He manhandles you on your stomach, knocking the air out of your lungs, and wrestles your hands behind your back.

“Ow, ow, ow. Ow!” you whine under him, wincing when he grips your wrists in place and the weight from your upper body disappears. Then you’re painfully aware of how cold it had become and a chill runs up your spine. You hear the ruffling of leather, then feel the coarse rope graze your sensitive skin. “Wait! No, no, no, no – ” you thrash between his solid thighs and he shifts his position to lock your wiggling legs between his knees. You try to look back but only manage to make yourself choke when your Adam’s apple bops against the mattress. “I just wanted to – ”

“ – Been too good t’ you.” he barks down your protests and once the rope is secured around your hands, he pulls hard enough to make you cry out. “Forgot ya place, Missy?” his tone was biting and you let loose a pleading mewl, but his gestures didn’t soften one bit. He turns you on your side, glaring daggers down at you. “Lemme remind you.” he leans so close you can feel his breath on your ear, hot and cold. “I ain’t your fuckin’ friend. I ain’t your fuckin’ daddy and I ain’t your Prince Charmin’.”

You’re curling in on yourself as he stuffs animosity down your throat. The scarce moonlight makes him look like a fiend. You hide beneath the collar of your blazer, shielding yourself from his scalding eyes and it brings some comfort to your battered mood.

Your doing…your mistake.

Jesus, you’d tipped him over real bad this time.

Over freaking Vaseline of all things…

You’d seen him like this before. It was his go-to façade when dealing with hostiles of any kind, it was him stepping back into the shoes of a merciless, vile creature devoid of humanity. You’d seen it plenty but never targeted at you.

And it was fucking terrifying.

“Only reason you’re alive is cuz you owe me caps.” he shoves you into the wall and your knees collide into it with a deaf thump. “Now keep ya mouth shut n’ go the fuck to sleep.”

Your bottom lip quivers as the dull pain in your knees spreads. Your feet ache, your wrists pulse and your shoulder screams from having to endure your whole weight. You swallow a mixture of ropy saliva and salty tears and breathe extra carefully just so you don’t let him hear you sniffling.

“Had enough o’ you.” he lumbers down next to you, back to back but no contact, and you’re just left shaken up and with a wide-eyed expression.

Once the air settles the chill of the night creeps up your legs, seeping through your tights and licking at your skin until you shudder.

You couldn’t blame his brutish punishment or his harrowing words even if they carved wretchedness into your heart. He’d given you the truth, no sugarcoating, straight and simple. Your safe transportation was business; you weren’t out on a magical adventure. He wasn’t even being cruel, he was being honest and pointedly agitated because you were getting too comfortable. You were the one trying to dazzle him with your charades and big dreams of making it into the wasteland like some fucked-up alternative to Hollywood.

He mumbles something pissy when you shiver for the second time, readjusts, and curls an arm under his head.

The deal was to get you to Tillburry and leave you there for a few weeks, let you adjust and gather up the caps you owe, then come back to collect his pay. You were wrong to think of him as a friend, he’d discarded the title each time you had flung it at him. But it was confusing when his actions refuted his tongue.

“Quit it.” the ghoul warns when you fail to suppress another shiver so prominent it makes your teeth chatter.

“Sorry, Mister.” you manage to say, forehead pressing against the cool wall as you try to steady your breathing and fight off the incessant jitters. “Is just cold…”

He was gentle when he’d eased the stimpak into your calf to save your infected ankle. He used you to lure out hostiles, but he always stuffed you in the safest corner he could find when you were settling down to sleep. He always rolled his eyes when your feet gave out in the middle of the road, but never left you behind. And sure, he was a ghoul, his regeneration and dulled pain receptors were commendable, but he still took bullets for you. You couldn’t be convinced that it was just his job because you didn’t want to be. You wanted him to care.

When another shiver takes hold of you he sighs. You feel the mattress dip next to your legs followed by the rustling of heavy fabric. Another apology is ready to shoot past your frowning lips, a thread of pleads to not kick you out of the room and into the roach-infested corridor on standby. Anticipation has your toes curling and your heart hammers because he’s doing something behind you and you can’t turn around to see. You almost want to cry because you can’t even let the man rest without being a menace.

He’d given you beyond what you deserved, but you were greedy and still coveted for more.

“Gonna be the death o’ me…”

You twitch when you’re abruptly shrouded in unfamiliar heat, a tattered blanket draped over you, covering your curled-up form completely; his coat. A shattered hum is all you can spare.

The faint scent of detergent still lingers, but there’s also something else, a musk, a rich odor that you can’t compare to anything you’ve smelt before. The smell of him. It clings to your skin like a needy lover, merges with yours and marks you up as part of his turf.

He settles back down without another word, away from you, of course.

You inhale deep and slow, let the aroma overwhelm your senses, and shut your eyes at the buzz it causes in your stomach. Your wrists tug at the restraints with the need to pull the coat tighter around you, then you’re reminded you’re tied up, but you can’t be bothered to care anymore.

Hot then cold, sweet then sour. He never sticks to one, always bounces between the two and it’s peevishly perplexing, but it makes his tenderness so much more addicting after a rough tussle.

When you’re drunk and sated, you emerge from the warm darkness, enough for your lips to feel the cold again instead of ghosting against the leathery fabric. Glazed over, heavy-lidded eyes, blown-out pupils directed at the wall, but all your consciousness comes up with is him.

“Don’t want you to be cold, Mister.”

You tuck your feet under the warmth and the blood returns to your numb toes. Your stomach bursts with an alien flutter that punches through you until it reaches your thrumming heart and nurtures a sparkling new emotion.

“Go t’ sleep, Sweet pea.”

Coherence has been slain by a vague opponent, leaving you bare to the current pumping through your veins. Self-indulgent and needy, your knees are used as leverage, sunken into the wall and pushing you away until you find solace in the curve of his spine. The heat emitting from him is even greater than that of his coat and it dusts a hue on your cheeks, slightly darker than your natural tone. The chill stings against your heated flesh.

Your eyelids fall and your nose burrowed back into the comfort of your blanket as you suffocate on his scent once again. It cradles you gently, until your head is spinning and you feel like body and soul are nearly split apart. You’re levitating, floating in a pitch-black sea that’s guiding you into the embrace of slumber.

A steady breath comes from him, he doesn’t move nor protest.

He’s a kind man. He indulges you, lets you wander through a foggy forest because soon you’ll be separated and he won’t have to deal with you anymore. That’s all you need from him and you’re so grateful.

It’s not him murdering threats that has kept you alive thus far, it’s just him being present. Because you’re not just alive, you’re living for the first time and he was there from the beginning.

“G’night, Mister.”

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Chapter 6 >>>

🌼 Daisy Masterlist 🌼

Masterlist

Tag list: @bountydroid @windierhades @ultimatereality @gruffle1 @v3lv3tf0x @fallout-girl219 @ one-of-thewalkingdead @robin-the-enby @savanahc @whatthefuckkrichard @rockst4rkitty @lisnamavka @lomlbillieeilish

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout tv series #the ghoul fanfic #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #x reader #the ghoul fallout #fallout fanfic

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sun-kissy · 2 months

Note

HELLO SAN i loved meant to be in fact i created this acc just to read ur stuff so can we please please have poly wolfstar headcanons with lots of fluff 🥰🥰🥰🥰

i love you ♡ and yes of course you can! also i got so carried away, this was very self-indulgent and fun to write <3

headcanons of poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

tw: tooth-rotting fluff, one mention of sex but if you blink it's gone

personalised nicknames! all of you have different terms of endearment for each other so you don’t get mixed up (remus calls you dove/sweetheart, and sirius calls you love/pretty girl <3)

sirius is always in the middle when the three of you are walking together, holding both yours and remus’ hands

sirius loves laying his head in your lap, letting you comb your fingers through his hair and make small braids in it

he goes crazy when you braid flowers into his hair, peppering kisses all over your face and relishing in the victory of you blushing

he bombards yours and remus’ faces with kisses all the time anyway, he doesn’t need an excuse for it

whenever there’s parties, sirius does both of your makeup for you. you can’t stop giggling as he does your eyeliner, he’ll tsk irritatedly and kiss you to shut you up. and remus keeps grumbling about how tedious the process is but sirius will tell him how pretty he looks and he’ll immediately zip his mouth

sirius loves to be pampered, especially after quidditch matches. he’ll lay on the bed while you rub curling cream into his hair and remus massages between his shoulder blades. the moans that escape his mouth from remus’ massaging are borderline sinful, and he claims that he would “trade sex for this any day”

speaking of quidditch matches. when gryffindor wins, everyone’s crowding around sirius and congratulating him, but he doesn’t care. he runs straight up to the stands and into yours’ and remus’ arms

both you and sirius lean against remus when cuddling, who has long arms to wrap around your waists, the tall wanker

remus chides the both of you for not doing assignments (he still does it for you anyway, pretending to hate doing it. but he loves how grateful you both are after he does)

he is a stupid stupid flirt who bends down to look into yours and sirius’ eyes when he talks to you. it makes your heart beat like crazy

sirius and you are always stealing remus’ grandpa sweaters because they’re just so comfy. he’d be like “where’s my-“ and then he’d see one of you wearing it and roll his eyes affectionately

remus is all for pressing kisses into yours and sirius’ hair

and you like to give them each a kiss on their nose, which makes remus turn red and sirius gush over how freaking adorable you are

after full moons, you clean remus up and press gentle kisses to his scars while sirius kisses his tears away. it’s a painful yet heavenly experience, it hurts and it heals

when you have period cramps, sirius massages your stomach and presses kisses to your hairline, while remus makes you hot chocolate and envelopes you in his warmth

sirius cries all day when he gets a letter from home. and the two of you are right by him the whole time, squeezing his hands, whispering reassurances into his ear, and wrapping him up in blankets and warm hugs

remus reads to the two of you every night till you fall asleep, hands interlaced and legs entangled. he’ll smile and press a kiss to each of your foreheads before falling asleep himself

cuddles every morning, smothering one other in tight hugs and kisses filled with bad breath and love. it’s especially nice when it rains; it storms outside, but you’re all cosy in your safe haven

you’re in their dorm room so much it might as well be yours. and it’s always lively with music from sirius’ record player

the three of you hold hands and jam out to the music, all awkward movements and tripping up, but it’s so much fun

all of you go for picnics together, or just sit under a tree near the black lake. remus will read his book, you’ll lay in his lap and make flower crowns, and sirius rests his head on your stomach while he paints his nails. remus will occasionally bend down to press a kiss to sirius’ knuckles or between your eyebrows

hugs hugs hugs so many group hugs and being squeezed until you feel all the sadness seep out, and you wish you could stay there forever with sirius’ arms holding you close and remus’ chin on the top of your head. it feels like home

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igotanidea · 5 months

Text

We'll make it: Jason Todd x reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI!

So, she got accepted to that one Univerity faculty she wanted to attend since being a teen.

It was a dream come true, except for one tiny detail.

She was leaving.

For 3 years.

A thousand miles away from her boyfiend Jason.

And he never explicitly said it, but his eyes, his face, his entire posture that shifted from relaxed in her presence to terrified at the thought of loosing her, were speaking volumes.

And no matter how much she tried to assure him the two of them will survive it, regardless of the strength she put on for both of their sakes - nothing could ease his worries.

How would he survive without her by his side?

Who would he come back to after patrol to hold and love and snuggle with?

Whose laugh and tears and words and touch and humor and moodiness would fill his days?

But he knew he had to let her go.

It was her dream after all, and who he was to ever stop her from fullfilling it...

Nothing.

Just an outcast, outlaw, vigilante casted away and abandoned even by his own family.

He never deserved her in the first place and it was time to deal with it.

She were too good for him.

But that was never what she thought.

So the last night before the departure, when she was finishing packing her bags and he was keeping his distance, leaning on the doorframe trying to act casual and happy for her?

She couldn't stand it.

She hated the fact that he seemed to just ... give up. Let go of the fight. Surrender.

Red Hood would never surrender.

And Y/N Y/L/N wouldn't either.

"So, are you excited for tomorrow?" he asked with a fake smile

"I'm actually feeling a lot of things at the same time" she sighed heavily zipping her suitcase.

"I think it's pretty normal." Jason shrugged taking a step forward putting her luggage up to make it ready for the morning and that little, somewhat helpful after all, gesture made her mad.

Mad like he has never seen her before.

"What is wrong with you?!" she yelled but all she got in response was a surprised, indifferent look on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"what do I--?" she stuttered, her eyes widening in shock. Was he for real? He didn'd care at all? "WHAT DO I MEAN?!!"

"Stop yelling princess, you're acting crazy."

"CRAZY!? I'm acting crazy to you?!"

"Ok, seriously, what the hell do you want from me!?" he spat back, getting annoyed by her behaviour.

"WHY WON'T YOU FIGHT FOR ME?!"

"Fight for you?" his eyes glistened with rage, but also something more, something she couldn;t quite decipher "you want me to fight for you, huh? Well be careful what you wish for cause if I start doing it--" he gritted his teeth stopping the sentence in the middle.

Y/N took a single look at his face. Narrowed eyes. Pursed lips. And then other telltales. Hard breathing. Rapid chest movements. Clenched fists.

"Jason..."

"FUCK!" he yelled, grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to the kiss that was as intense as if he was trying to swallow her whole. His lips moving against her with the power and stoutess that resebled the fire consuming everything that happened to be on his path. Nothing else mattered in this moment, except for her.

His girlfriend, his lover, his babygirl.

Who just finished collecting her things before flight.

Jason groaned grabbing her waist, squeezing her body in an iron tight grip, her whimpers only spurring him on, making him want more, making him want to tear her clothes off, pin her to bed, take her like an animal, make her stay.

Make her fucking stay.

But he couldn't.

And it made him stop and pull back in shame.

"Jason..." she gasped, feeling the emptiness when he moved away. Her hair were messy, eyes glassy, lips already swollen.

"I'm sorry princess..."

"Oh fuck you todd" she groaned rushing to his arms again, wrapping herself around him like a glove, needing his touch, his love, his lips, hands, everything.

She started the fire in him.

The fire he was trying so hard to contain while withdrawing and keeping his cool.

He wasn't anymore.

She was going away. There was no denying the reality. So if anything he could give her something to remember him by.

To rememeber them by.

"I got a little surprise for you..." she whispered pulling back to the point where he let her. Her hands locked with his, guiding them to the hem of her shirt signalling to pull it up.

And when he did?

The view that came to his eyes counldn't be compared with anything else. The sexiest, the most turning on, cock hardening red lacy lingerie made her look like a goddess.

"Fuck, Y/N." he tore the shirt off completely, tracing over her soft, warm skin, caressing her breasts through the thin lacy material.

"Say it..." she gasped feeling his kisses on her neck, his hands on her ass, pulling her closer.

"I don't want you to go."

"Show me."

"Oh I;m gonna show you."

Her pants were gone in a second, his fingers dipping under the material of her panties, feeling her wetness, going lower, depeer, harder...

"But not like this." Jason grabbed her waist and carried her to the bedroom.

Layed her down.

Kissed her enitre body.

Slowly unclasped all those tiny buckles, untangled all the strings, making sure that she felt each caress, each kiss, each sweet word whispered in her ear.

Moved slowly and tenderly.

Made love to her with so much care and intensity without going rough.

Looking straight into her eyes with each thrust.

We'll make it.

That was the message his gaze was conveing. One simple sentence that never had a chance to leave his mouth.

We'll make it.

"Yes..." she gasped tightening the grip of her legs on his waist, running hands down his back, pulling him closer, and they both knew that she didn't just refer to sex.

We'll make it.

And when the first rays of sun shone on the horizon....

When her lips brushed his forehead till the next time they were going to see each other....

When the doors closed quietly to not stir him awake...

Two hearts were still beating in the same rythm,

We'll make it.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd smut #red hood smut

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loveshotzz · 11 months

Text

My name’s Elvira, but you can call me tonight

steve harrington x eddie’sbestfriend!reader

Tongue Tied

summary: A Halloween party, Brenda, and teaching Steve that shotgunning isn’t just a trick guys use to kiss girls.

wc: 2.9k

warnings: My blog is 18+ fem!reader, slight jealousy, and a little insecurity if you squint, fluff, weed smoking and mentions of drinking.

<- 🎃 chapter one | mini series masterlist

Tina’s ‘witches brew’ was maybe just as bad as the music she picked, but Steve Harrington was staring at you from across the crowded room.

You’d only ever seen Top Gun once, and in all honesty you didn’t even need to watch it to know that he looked better than Tom Cruise. The brown leather of his bomber jacket fits snug across his broad shoulders, and tappers tight around his waist. It’s half way zipped up, revealing the white shirt underneath and the aviators that he’d walked in wearing dangling from the collar. The weight of them pulls the fabric down enough to catch a glimpse of the dark hair that covers his chest, and your throat dries up at the thought of him shirtless. His Levi’s are light washed and well worn, a soft outline of where he usually keeps his wallet dangerously close to where your gaze wants to linger. The black combat boots he wears somehow make his feet look even bigger, your thighs press together under your dress.

His eyes roam the length of your body the way you hoped they would when you decided to dress up as The Mistress of the Dark herself. Your plunging neckline begs for his hungry gaze, and you push up your chest to encourage it. A thick black belt hugs tight around your waist, accentuating your curves in a way that has you feeling more confident than normal. Especially when you catch the way he bites his bottom lip in a smirk, darkened eyes lingering on the fake dagger resting against the softness of your tummy. Wiggling your long black nails at him, you can’t help but relish in the fact that a simple wave makes the former king of Hawkins cheeks flush the same shade of red as your lips.

It had been four days since that night with Steve. A whole 96 hours and the boy across the room from you has occupied your thoughts for every minute of every single one. It was becoming a real problem, but yet here you were at a Halloween party you’d already said no to because you knew he would be here.

Robin’s very obviously telling a story next to him, her hands moving wildly as she gets more worked up with whatever is happening in it. She’s too focused on the way Nancy’s giggling in front of her to notice that her best friend isn’t listening, the full weight of his attention making your insides warm.

Is this what it’s like to be one of those girls?

Steve chugs the rest of his beer, throat bobbing with every large gulp before wiping his lips with the back of his hand. He holds your gaze even when you see him say something to Robin who waves him off, lost in the oldest Wheeler’s big blue eyes, and the first few steps in your direction is enough to send your heart into overdrive.

You almost lose sight of him when he starts to cross the makeshift dance floor in the living room, his wild auburn hair the only thing staying in your line of vision. It’s a mess of dancing bodies, and orange and black balloons already starting to lose their luster falling from the ceiling.

His eyes meet yours in the crowd and you feel the heels you can hardly walk in start to carry you closer, stepping over the empty cups and streamers that litter the floor. His smile widens, and you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed when you feel your cheeks push up doing the same.

It’s when Steve finally makes it to the edge of the crowd, stopping just a few more steps away from you when it happens. When she happens.

Brenda.

She’s dressed as Madonna, her perfect blond hair teased just right, giving it more volume than Steve’s even on his best day. Black fishnets cover her toned legs, with a matching tutu that leaves little to the imagination stopping just above the curve of her ass.

The corset she wears gives her breasts the kind of push that you know is the reason for Steve’s blush when she steps in front of him. Perfectly manicured pink nails dragging up his chest before her palm flattens just underneath where his sunglasses hang.

His eyes flicker between the two of you, a nervous laugh leaving his mouth at whatever she’s saying. He scratches the back of his neck when he responds, and it makes her throw her head back in flirty giggles before her fingers start playing with his jacket zipper.

The sting of rejection is harsher than you thought it’d be, and you hope he can’t see the way it wipes the smile clean off your face. Girls like Brenda always seemed to be the boy’s kryptonite. The urge to find your best friend is what keeps your feet moving, almost like that was your plan all along. The joint you stashed away earlier in his jacket pocket calls your name, and you don’t look at Steve as you walk past the two of them, even when you see his hand reach out for your wrist.

It’s just Steve anyway.

You keep telling yourself that, hoping that it will ease the slight lump in your throat. An anger bubbling just under the surface turning the heat in your stomach into something more like lava, a volcano bubbling, just ready to explode as you try to convince yourself that you don’t have a crush.

When you find Eddie in the next room, his tongue deep in his girlfriend Cece’s mouth on the couch, and you can’t hide the bitterness that drips from your tone.

“Make sure to get some oxygen so you don’t pass out, Jesus Christ.”

Your rude interruption makes them both pull apart with a loud smack, the fake blood he’d sloppily smeared down the corners of his mouth almost gone leaving a pink stain on his pale skin instead.

“What’s your deal? Can’t you see I’m a little busy.” Eddie’s gaze narrows into an annoyed glare, “Aren’t you supposed to be doing the same thing to Harrington.”

“That’s not why I came,” you snort, crossing your arms and it makes him raise his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Bullshit.”

The two of you stare each other down, unwavering, it’s only when his eyes flick towards the dance floor that he sees the cause of your sour mood. The hard lines on his forehead soften before he rubs a ringed hand over his face with an exasperated groan. Cece wraps her arms around his waist tighter, hearts taking over her pupils when she gets a front row seat of her boyfriend being your best friend.

“Here,” he sighs under his breath, pulling open his jacket to pluck out the perfectly rolled joint inside his hidden pocket. He holds it out to you in a peace offering.

“Thanks,” you mumble as you take it, giving him a weak smile before tucking the cone in your belt next to your lighter, “Go back to sucking each other's faces off, sorry to interrupt.”

Your joke makes her giggle, and Eddie grin in the kind of way that's contagious.

“He’s an idiot,” the metal head tries to comfort, “Honestly, he’ll tell you himself.”

“I’m fine.” You keep your expression as unreadable as possible, but you know it's futile to try and hide from him, “It’s just Steve.”

It’s colder outside than when you first got here, and you don’t have nearly enough alcohol in your system to keep you warm. Goosebumps rise on the inappropriate amount of skin you have showing for the season, making you wish you’d grabbed your jacket. The breeze rustles the leaves that refuse to let go or their brittle branches, mixing with the muffled bass of the music inside, while your heels make a hollow thump against the wood of Tina’s back porch.

Pulling out the joint and your lighter from your belt, you take a seat on the top of the stairs that lead to her backyard. There’s a shiver that runs down your spine as your thumb flicks the wheel that brings the flame to life, a temporary heat warming your face as you spin the fat end over the fire to burn it evenly. The earthy smell hits your nose, shoulders already relaxing before you take the first toke. Bringing it to your lips, you tuck your lighter back inside your belt, leaning back on your palm to look at the clear night sky above you as you inhale your first drag into your lungs.

It’s just Steve.

When you exhale, your eyes stay trained on the white wisps of smoke that shades the twinkling of the stars behind it and you try not to think of Brenda’s pink nails running through his hair. Your next hit is much bigger. The music from inside gets louder, making you jump when you hear the sliding glass door open. Straightening up, you turn around with a glare ready for whoever the intruder is, only to be face to face with the boy you’re trying to convince yourself you don’t like.

“Hey, there you are.” His smile is easy, and you hate that it warms you like the sun just from looking at it.

You raise your eyebrows in acknowledgment, hollowing out your cheeks taking another drag before bringing your gaze back to the sky. His boots sound heavier than your heels against the wood, some steps making the deck creak under his weight. The silence is thick with words on the tips of both your tongues, but neither one of you is willing to break it first. He sighs awkwardly out of his nose, rubbing his palms against his thighs before taking the seat next to you. Your knees knock together, and the heat of him so close sends another shiver down to your bones.

“Jesus, you have to be cold. It’s like 40 degrees outside.” Steve doesn’t hesitate to start shrugging off his jacket, and you clock the movements from the corner of your eye.

“Steve, no, really I’m fine,” you try to protest but he doesn’t listen, thick tan arms coming into view.

“Please, I can hear your teeth from here,” he chuckles, standing up to drape the leather over your shoulders, and you try not to stare at the way the hem of his shirt rises up revealing a dark happy trail.

It feels like he’s everywhere when your shoulders slot into the warm pockets where he just was, wrapped up in him just like on your couch. The spice of his cologne clings to the fabric on the inside, and you have to fight back the urge to bury your nose into the collar and inhale.

“Well aren’t you gonna be cold now?” You ask, finally daring to meet his eyes, taking another hit.

“Nah, I’ll be alright.” He winks with the kind of confidence that makes your face hot, clasping his hands together over his spread knees making your shoulders bump.

“So, Top Gun huh?” Giggling, you finally earn a Steve Harrington eyeroll.

“Look, I didn’t have to buy anything okay. I wasn’t even going to come tonight, until I heard,” he stops himself, pink dusting his cheeks and you don’t think it's from the frost in the air, “I’m surprised you’ve even seen it, doesn’t seem like your type of movie.”

“What’s my type of movie, Steve?” You grin with a cocked brow, letting the end of the joint rest against your bottom lip, the heat from before blooming deep in your gut when he tracks the movement licking his.

“I don’t know,” his heavy gaze makes your throat bob, “You tell me.”

You don’t think you’re talking about movies anymore.

“Isn’t Brenda going to be looking for you?” You tear your eyes away from him, taking another hit to seem nonchalant. The loud snort you get in response makes you jump.

“Brenda? No, I’ve been dodging that girl for months.” Running a hand through his hair, he dares to snatch the joint from between your fingers like he was some kind of professional or something. “Is that why you ran off on me in there?”

“I did not run off!” You huff, ducking your head inside his jacket to glare at him from over the top of it, “Why would I do that?”

Vulnerability softens Steve’s features when he looks at you tucked into his coat like it’s always meant to keep you warm.

“I don’t know,” he repeats quietly, “You tell me.”

Too scared of rejection, it’s his turn to look away bringing the joint to his mouth in an attempt to take a hit. You watch him hollow his cheeks, impressed for a second until he opens it to exhale and blows nothing out. A giggle slips past your lips that breaks the tension, making him groan loudly trying to fight his own smile.

“Look, I’m still new at this okay.” He sighs, a breathy laugh escaping him with a shake of his head handing it back to you. He’s only a little embarrassed, too enamored by how cute you look giggling at him.

“Hey, the confidence was there, you just gotta work on the technique.” You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, something sweet dancing behind your eyes when you scoot a little closer. “Do you want me to shotgun it for you?”

It’s Steve’s throat that bobs now.

“Aren’t guys supposed to do that to girls? I mean, I’ve seen Eddie do it at a few parties…” he starts, eyes going wide when you scoff at him.

“Wow, your feminism is showing.”

“No, that’s not what I meant, it’s just like in movies - I’m not saying girls can’t - wow this is not coming out the way I want it too, I’m just going to shut up now.” Steve stammers, running another nervous hand through his hair, blowing out an exasperated breath before meeting you

with sheepish eyes.

“Are you driving tonight?” You ask, looking up at him from under your lashes, bringing the joint to your mouth.

“No, for once.” He gives you a lopsided grin that makes your head spin.

“Good.” Turning your body towards him, the confidence you’re trying to hang onto wavers being this close again.

It’s just Steve.

He looks nervous as you feel, but tries to hide behind a quiet laugh, the amber of the beer he drank inside lingering on his breath. The warmth of his palm finds a home on your fishnet covered thigh that’s revealed to him by the side slit of your dress, fingertips pressing into soft skin. The heat behind his stare makes your body buzz as you inhale the last little bit of the joint into your lungs, beckoning him closer with a hum, and a curl of your long nails you snuff the rest out on the stairs. Surely Tina won’t mind.

“Really?!” Steve half whispers, half yells but the whites of his teeth show giving him away.

The corners of your mouth twitch as you lean forward catching the way his gaze flicks down, and how the view makes the gold specs inside his eyes darken. Resting your hand on his cheek, the stubble tickles your palm when your fingers spread out, your thumb coaxing his chin down to open up more for you. His long lashes flutter when his nose bumps with yours, heads turning just enough for lips to brush for a second and you feel the blunt ends of his nails dig into the holes of your fishnets.

You release your hit, feeling him steal the air from your lungs, his hand daring to move up your thigh to your waist where he tugs you even closer. He holds it in for a second, both of your eyes meeting down the bridge of your nose but neither of you pulling away.

Do it.

When he exhales there’s hardly anything left, but you take it anyway, your fingers finding their way to the hair at the nape of his neck. He squeezes at the dough of your hips, in a silent plea to put him out of his misery and just when you think you’re about to show him mercy the sound of the music getting louder and the sliding glass door opening makes you both jump away.

“Hey! - Oh shit! Sorry Harrington, I didn’t know you were out here.” Eddie tries to apologize profusely with his eyes when he sees the glare you’re shooting him. “I just sold the last of my stuff and Cece’s ready to go, so if you still need a ride?”

Your best friend looks at Steve begging him to take the opening to hopefully spare his life.

“I didn’t drive tonight if you can actually believe,” Steve laughs nervously scratching the back of his neck, “or obviously I’d love nothing more for you to stay.”

He says the last part softly, just for you more than pleased when he sees you try and fight the smile from taking over your face.

“Maybe next time,” you look at him from under your lashes hoping that he picks up the fact that you want a ‘next time.’

The blush that turns the tips of his ears pink tells you he does. He watches you get up and start to shrug his jacket off, shaking his head as he stands up to stop you.

“Keep it tonight, honey. It looks better on you anyway.”

-> chapter three

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington thoughts #steve harrington series

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veras1ne · 11 months

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✮“Delicate.”

I had SO much fun writing this fic!! I’m so sorry it was delayed a little, there were some time constrictions and I’d much rather give you guys a late fic than a rushed and poorly written one. Anyways, Enjoy!! I can’t wait to see yall on the 31st 🦢 🫧

✰Pairing´ˎ˗📀: Anakin Skywalker x AFAB!Bimbo!Reader

✰ ‧₊˚ Summary 🦢: Anakin was out on a mission, leaving you home alone and an opportunity to hit the town. Nightclubs and dancing sounded perfect until he finds his way back home early.

✰ ;➛ WARNINGS🫧: THIS IS AN 18+ SMUT FANFIC. I am NOT responsible for the media you read and consume! Your warnings are the following: Smut, PIV, Fingering, Cum-Stuffing, Anakin being a master manipulator, Slutshaming, Degrading, Use of She/Her, Mentions of Breeding/Pregnancy, squirting, but no explicit mention of it! Try not to blink.

The sound of your dress zipping up and the spritzing of your favorite perfume filled your ears with excitement. Anakin was planned to be away on a trip for several nights, allowing you to sneak away with your closest friends for a night on the town, going to some of the sweetest clubs in your finest clothing. This would be the perfect chance for you to let loose without being kept on a tight leash by him. You could drink, dance, and enjoy yourself to your heart's content.

Tonight, you were finally free to do all that you wanted. You wanted to be selfish and get dirty and nasty with your friends. Of course you were allowed to go out, but statistics forbid you to be able to wear your tightest skirts and tops that were downright inappropriate for you to wear anywhere else. Personally, you had seen nothing wrong with your choice of clothing, especially when you got dressed just right, knowing that the explicit clothing wouldn’t matter in the first place as your lover would be right there in the event of anything happening.

The tightness made your waist look amazing, and the thin fabric hugged your curves perfectly. In Anakin’s mind, your clothes left little to the imagination—so little, in fact, that he believed he should be the only one to see you wearing the fabric you loved so much. He believed that he should be the only one to take advantage of you and ravage your mind, body, and soul.

He believed he should be the only one to see every nook and cranny of your body—the one that was specially made for his hands. To him, you were a toy, something he could take whenever he wanted, wherever he wanted. No matter where he went, whether it was his bed or yours or the bar across town, you would always be available to him.

You were his property that he owned, and you loved it. He loved that he was the only thing you thought about, that every being in your soul belonged to him, and that your whole life was centered around being him. It pleased him endlessly when his presence seemed to be the only thing to bring happiness and contentment into your everyday existence.

You relished in the knowledge that he knew every inch of your body; everything you did was because of him. His touch was what caused you to cry out of pleasure. He held you, kissed you, touched you, pleasured you, and told you how much he loved you. His missions were an opportunity for you to get wild without his knowledge, to let out a primal energy that wasn't regularly seen in you while under his every beck and call.

You had loved to be under Ani’s watchful eyes, but to live somewhat of a secret second life was something that made you feel sexy and powerful. Sure, others saw you as naive and just a pretty face, but you simply loved it. You loved dressing pretty in pink and always sipping on smooth champagne. In Anakin’s words, you were “ditzy.” And he liked it. It felt good to have you wrapped tightly around his finger.

You were just too good for him. He loved having you completely at his mercy, giving him whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it. You were a gift that no man or god could give him. The way you met was almost immediately revealing to your character: him being assigned to nearly babysit you while you traveled with your father throughout the galaxy, accompanying your father as the face of his campaign for his politics.

He became enamored by your innocent beauty and decided he wanted you to be his. You didn’t realize it, but he began to court you, solidifying his belief that you were rather bubble-headed, not that he minded in the slightest way.

He watched you giggle uncontrollably during a joke, hearing him chuckle when you cried out in disgust when you accidentally stepped in a liquid that had taken form on the floor. He had found you absolutely delicious, and his obsession had gotten the best of him. His lust had grown more intense, taking over any sense of logic and reasoning. He would come home after long missions and find you waiting for him, begging for him to touch you, kiss you, and fuck you. Your soft body begged to be touched, but Anakin couldn’t bring himself to give in.

As much as he desired you in the moment, his job had taken priority, and he had to be away from you until now. He hadn’t told you of his return, wishing to surprise you and see your pretty face filled with delight as his boots echoed down the hallway to your door, clacking upon arrival. Although it had only been a few days, to him, it felt like weeks away from your beautiful body, which fit right with his. He had missed you, and he wanted to prove you right.

As you smoothed out your top in the mirror, the jiggling of your front door’s knob caught your attention. Anakin’s voice calling out your name brought a smile to your face, making you rush out into the living room, heels clicking as you ran. The sight that greeted you, however, made your heart leap in your chest.

The man that stood before you was handsome in his Jedi robes. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he smiled down at you, a slight smirk on his lips. Anakin was clearly excited to see you, his arms open, expecting a hug. “Hi Baby! You’re home!” you almost screamed, joyously, running into his muscular arms.

You wrapped your own around his broad back and pulled him closer to you, pressing your nose into his neck and inhaling his smell of fresh soap and pine trees. “I didn’t know you were coming. I missed you so much, baby!” You exclaimed happily, kissing the side of his jawline before pulling away and admiring his strong build.

His face contorted in confusion as he looked at you, seeing you in your pink outfit fixed with your primmed and perfect hair and your finest heels. “What are you wearing, honey? I didn’t think you knew I was coming home.” You smiled at him blankly, not understanding his words. “I was about to go out with some girls from the club downtown; that’s okay, right?" He nodded slowly, trying to comprehend where you got the idea that you could go outside looking like that. “Of course that’s alright,” his voice trailed off as he entered your kitchen. “But I know you aren’t going out dressed like that." You tilted your head, confused. “Like that? What’s wrong with this?” “I should be the only one seeing you dressed like that. Your tits are halfway spilling out of your top; I wouldn’t even be surprised if other men tried to look at you the way only I do," he snapped at you, frustrated that you were trying to question his authority.

You rolled your eyes at his reaction, turning around and beginning to walk to your bedroom. “Oh really? Well, I guess maybe you should change the way you look at me if you hate it so much.” You scoffed as you walked past him, heading to your closet. “Besides, if you hate what I’m wearing so badly, why don’t you come and take it off?" You turned around with a devilish smirk on your face, wanting to see his reaction.

You never expected such a fierce and passionate response. A growl escaped his throat as he stomped towards you, slamming you up against the wall and pinning you there with ease. He pushed you against the wall roughly, ravanging your neck and placing wet, open kisses on your exposed skin. He nibbled on your collarbone, sucking lightly, causing you to moan and shiver. “I could rip your clothes right off," his low voice whispered into your ear, his lips close enough to yours for you to feel his hot breath. “Of course you’d love that, wouldn’t you?" He chuckled darkly as he released his grip on your shoulders and placed his forehead on yours.

The sight of Anakin’s eyes staring straight into yours made you forget all about the situation, instead focusing on the sensation of his hot breath fanning across your skin, his hand coming up to your face, and forcing eye contact between the two of you. “I've waited too long for you, Ani. My fingers couldn’t fuck me like you can. I need you so bad.” Your breathing was labored and unstable, with his hands harshly grabbing your wrists as he pinned you to your shared bed, which had grown so cold on his side.

He leaned down and kissed you passionately, his tongue brushing against your lip before slipping inside, exploring the depths of your mouth. His hands made short work of your miniskirt, and completely demolishing your beautiful designer top.

You were completely lost in him as he devoured you, his fingers tugging your hair slightly as he continued to press you against the bed, your hips bucking and rubbing against the fabric of his pants, the thin cotton of your pants creating friction on your clit that you so elegantly craved.

You moaned loudly into his mouth, his hands still holding your wrists above your head as his mouth roamed over your body, leaving a trail of hickeys all over your neck, chest, and stomach.

His right hand came down to your pussy, pushing your pants to the side as he reveled in your wet genitalia, your pre-cum acting as a lube for his thick and dry fingers, pushing their way into your hole, scissoring them against your walls, and loosening your tight muscles that pulsed against his flesh. You groaned louder than ever as his skilled fingers moved in and out of your slick and swollen entrance, his mouth moving to your breast, nibbling and licking.

A few minutes later, your eyes were closed, and tears streamed down your cheeks as pleasure rocked through you relentlessly.

A low grunt fell from your lips as Anakin removed his fingers from your pussy, placing a kiss on your clit as he replaced his fingers with his erect cock that prodded your tight hole. “I need you inside me, Ani. My pussy has been so empty; missed you so much.” Your encouragement was the final push for him, with his head pushing into your tiny slit.

He was careful at first, making sure to enter slowly and deeply, feeling how good it felt to finally be inside you, a scream ripping itself from your throat, your nails scratching at the sheets beneath your body as you writhed and trembled underneath him. “You’re so tight, my dove. I can’t get enough of you. So beautiful.” He spoke softly, his voice strained with effort, and his eyes focused solely on your swollen opening as he thrust in and out of your body, your back arching against the mattress as he took your sweet pussy apart, splitting you on his dick.

His cock rubbed against your sensitive walls, hitting every part of your insides as he fucked you hard and fast. “I should’ve known you were so desperate for me the moment I came through the door. I could practically smell your desperation like a dog; guess I’m fucking you like a bitch though, aren’t I?” You whined as you gripped tightly to the sheets beneath you. His movements became faster and harder, hitting your most sensitive spot, his hands leaving your body and taking refuge tangled in your hair, pulling it as you let out a pleasured screech.

Your entire body shook violently with each stroke of his cock, gripping the sheet beneath you. His voice deepened as he increased the tempo of his thrusts. “Such a slut, you know that? Your pussy is so deep, she’s swallowing me whole. I missed her so bad and the way she clenched around my fat cock," he roared out, his orgasm rising as you came undone, your juices spurting as you gushed around him, clawing at his back and seemingly drawing blood. "Anakin," you sobbed as he pumped his cock faster, his hips stuttering as he came hard, his seed flooding deep inside you.

With an animalistic growl, he collapsed on top of you. His heavy breathing and harsh heartbeat filled your ears, his large body covering your smaller frame. “Once a slut, always a slut, but at least you’re mine," he muttered hoarsely, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, breathing deeply in your scent, a smile stretching across his face as he placed a wet kiss on your jawline, thrusting into you one last time, pushing his cum deep inside of you.

“Maybe I should get you pregnant, breed you like a little bitch, and let everybody know that this pussy belongs to me."

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joelscruff · 2 years

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one thing i'm missing (joel miller/reader) PART TWO

thank you so much for the love on the first part!! ♥ PART ONE | ao3 summary: you and joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming. rating: 18+ explicit (this part is not explicit but this fic will be) warnings: (for future parts) smut, age difference (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 50s), praise kink - will add more as fic progresses word count: about 3.9k

That whole day you'd kept waiting for Joel to mention it, say absolutely anything in allusion to what the two of you had shared that morning, but he didn't. And in turn, neither did you. It was like it had never happened; he didn't look at you differently or talk to you differently, which you guess in most ways you were grateful for. The last thing you wanted was for him to suddenly start acting like there was something weird going on, but there was something going on. The way he'd looked at you, the way his fingers had stroked the skin of your back, you knew it wasn't just nothing.

The only thing that had changed was Joel's stamina; after such a good sleep, he'd recovered greatly in just one night and now seemed to be able to travel further without as many stops. In just one day you'd all managed to double your travel time, which even managed to put a smile on Ellie's face.

“I'm glad you're feeling better,” she'd said to Joel that afternoon, beaming proudly at the miracle she'd helped him achieve, “It was weird not having you around for so long.”

He'd smiled back at her and your heart had stuttered at the familiarity of it, recalling the look he'd given you that morning, “I knew I'd be back,”he'd said it stiltedly, like he was talking in a foreign accent. You'd both stared at him in confusion and he'd sighed exasperatedly, “Terminator. Movie from the 80s.”

“Ohhh,” you and Ellie had both chorused, and he'd rolled his eyes.

You'd set up camp again that night and had hoped that Ellie's change in demeanour might warrant her sleeping closer to the fire, closer to you and Joel, but it didn't. In fact, she'd ended up setting down her sleeping bag even further away than the night before. You and Joel both acknowledged it but didn't say anything to her, not wanting to push her boundaries.

“I'm worried about her,” you'd said quietly when it was just the two of you.

“I know, me too,” he'd sighed, “Kept thinkin' that maybe tonight would be different – she was so normal today, wasn't she?”

“She was,” you agreed, “I thought the same thing.”

“Guess it's gonna take time,” he muttered, poking at the fire absentmindedly, “luckily we got no shortage of that, huh?” his eyes met yours and you felt that familiar flutter in the base of your stomach before he turned his attention back to the fire.

Joel took first watch. Neither of you had acknowledged the period of time in which you both slept last night, so by proxy Joel hadn't given you any shit for not waking him up for his turn. You set your sleeping bag up a few feet from the fire where he sat, painfully aware of the fact that he could see every move you made. You realized quickly that in your nervousness, or maybe because all you could think of was last night, you'd laid it wide and flat against the ground like it was a duvet. Like it wasn't just you sleeping under it tonight.

“You'll freeze like that,” he'd said quietly behind you, and you'd tried not to show the disappointment you felt was written all over your body language.

“Right,” you'd muttered, and zipped the bag back up, slipping inside of it and shutting your eyes tight once you were situated.

Of course he's not gonna get in with you, you idiot. It was a one-time thing. He's probably already forgotten it even happened.

You tried to sleep but failed miserably. Your thoughts wouldn't shut up, reminding you over and over again that Joel was right there, only a few feet away, and yet you couldn't have felt further away from him. You longed for the feeling of his arms around you again, that warmth you'd shared together, the feeling of his hot skin against the palm of your hand. You couldn't stop replaying that moment over and over, when he'd looked down at you and smiled so softly and tenderly, looked at you like you were the only person that existed to him.

You felt a gentle nudge to your shoulder and you opened your eyes to see Joel kneeling over you, extending the rifle toward your still form, “Sorry,” he'd said quietly, “it's your turn.”

“It's okay, I wasn't asleep,” you whispered, taking the rifle from him and sitting up.

His brow furrowed at your words but he didn't say anything else, just got up from his crouch and walked over to where he'd set up his blanket. You felt the urge to tell him he'd freeze, use his own words against him, but you knew it wouldn't achieve anything.

Your watch was uneventful, spent mostly throwing grass into the fire and watching the embers dance in the darkness. You couldn't get your mind to focus on anything else but Joel, who you periodically peered over at to make sure wasn't freezing to death. He was still, but the expression on his face was anything but peaceful and you very much doubted he was even asleep.

Around the time you knew you were supposed to alert him for his watch, you hesitated. A new thought had crossed your mind and you began to twist it around in your head, weighing the pros and cons. After a few moments of deep thought, you got up and walked over to Joel. He was shivering a little bit now, not much but it was obvious he wasn't comfortable.

Fuck it, you'd thought to yourself, then grabbed your sleeping bag and started to unzip it. Hearing the noise, Joel – who (you were right) was wide awake – opened his eyes and saw you standing there. You met his gaze but neither of you said anything. He'd watched as you carefully laid down beside him, not close enough that you were touching because you still weren't sure how he'd react, but so both of you were underneath the new layer of warmth together. You waited for him to tell you to move or for him to scramble out from under the material and start his watch, but he didn't. He just kept looking at you, expression unreadable. It was like an unspoken challenge, who would speak first, and you were both winning.

With one last look at him, you'd closed your eyes, willing yourself to believe that he would stay.

The sound of Joel snoring woke you up in the early hours of the morning, not because it was obnoxious but because it was directly in your ear. Your eyes snapped open and you realized you were now lying on your side facing the trees. You could feel him at your back, pressed into you solidly with his arms wrapped around your middle; he was spooning you.

Swallowing out of nervousness you looked down at his hands, curled around your midsection, and felt a hot pang of recognition as reality began to sink in; he hadn't gotten up for his watch, he'd stayed with you and fallen asleep. He'd wanted you there. You closed your eyes and found yourself choking back the sudden emotions you felt bubbling to the surface. Joel wanted you. He wanted you.

He snored again and you couldn't help but smile, feeling his warm breath at the nape of your neck, the tip of his nose bumping gently against the skin there. You could feel his beard against the top of your shoulder blade and you shivered unconsciously, leaning further back into his touch, feeling the hint of his lips brush against your skin. You closed your eyes and sighed contentedly, and seconds later you'd fallen back to sleep.

When you woke again, he was gone. You rolled over with a frown, searching for him, only to see both he and Ellie sitting at the fire eating breakfast. You looked down and realized that Joel had put his blanket back in his pack and wrapped your sleeping bag around you, making it seem like you'd slept by yourself all night. If he'd been alone at the fire you would have been confused, hurt, but seeing Ellie sitting there made it make sense; he didn't want her to know, and honestly neither did you.

You'd sat up and stretched, then extricated yourself from the sleeping bag and shuffled over to the two of them. Ellie hadn't said anything, bleary eyed and clearly still half asleep as she munched on whatever canned perishable they'd cooked up, but Joel had looked at you and graced you with a gorgeous half smile, eyes meeting yours.

“Mornin',” he'd said softly, “Sleep good?”

You'd smiled back and sat beside Ellie, reaching for a fork, “Really good, you?”

His eyes, dark and deep but shining in the morning sun, held your gaze as he replied, “Can't complain.”

After that, neither of you slept alone.

The following night, Joel had spread his blanket out on the ground and you'd wordlessly placed your sleeping bag on top of it; he didn't object. You both abandoned the idea of a second watch, confident that you were far enough away from any civilization that no one was going to sneak up on you in the night. After checking the perimeter and making sure Ellie was fast asleep, you'd crawled under the sleeping bag where Joel lay still and inched in beside him. You didn't make eye contact, nerves twisting inside your belly as you shuffled even closer to him and wound your arm around his torso, placing your head on his chest. In response, he'd tilted his head toward yours, nosing the crown of it and sighing contentedly, his hands coming up to trail gently along your back.

“Night,” you'd breathed, nuzzling into the warmth of his coat, focusing on the feeling of being held by him.

“G'night,” he'd murmured in response, and you'd both fallen asleep within minutes.

Every morning was the same in some ways but different in others. Sometimes he'd be spooning you from behind again, and you could always tell when he was awake versus when he was asleep by the way he nuzzled against you. When he was asleep he was uninhibited, mouth open against your skin and arms a dead weight around your body, solid and comfortable. When he was awake he was more reserved, keeping his face shrouded in your jacket instead of your neck, fingers consciously fluttering around your middle like he wasn't sure exactly what to do with them.

Admittedly you'd pretend to be asleep for longer periods so you could bask in the feeling of him holding you so close; whenever he realized you were awake he would always pull away, not out of embarrassment or regret but because he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable. This much was clear by the way he touched you when he thought you were asleep, so careful and gentle, soft and sweet. Like you were some precious thing he had to be extremely careful with or you'd break apart. He was never trying to get away from you, only trying to get you closer.

But neither of you said anything, never spoke a word about it to each other. It simply became a part of the routine. You weren't sure if there was some unspoken rule that talking about it would make it weird or make it go away, but you weren't going to risk it and neither was Joel. What happened at night and in the early mornings was just between the two of you, quiet and secret. Ellie was none the wiser; she was still keeping her distance at night and though you were still concerned about it, you had to admit that you were slightly thankful for her sudden desire for independence. Without it, you doubted you'd be waking up in Joel's embrace every morning.

Your favorite part of those mornings, of those moments, was when Joel would look at you. Somehow, though neither of you had spoken a word about what was going on, that one look he'd give you in the early hours when the sun was just barely cresting the trees was everything. His eyes would meet yours in a silent whisper, a cosmic spark that you could feel in your bones. They were so brown and so soft – you could remember first meeting him and being frightened by the coldness of his stare, laughable now. The man who looked at you now was kind and gentle, the aged lines that painted his face no longer seeming intimidating or such a big deal – he was a lot older than you, but so what? He'd blink slowly, no longer because he was tired but because he was so relaxed, and oftentimes his eyes would involuntarily close again and he'd fall back into a quiet and easy sleep.

You'd live in that brief moment for the rest of the day, holding the image at the front of your mind until you were back in his arms again. Rinse. Repeat. You still weren't sure what any of it meant to him, but you'd begun to realize what it meant to you; the mere thought of not having those moments anymore or losing whatever it was the two of you shared frightened you. You'd begun to need him so much more than you had before and you couldn't help but wonder if he was starting to feel that same need.

It had been about two weeks since the events with David. Joel was doing much better but still hadn't returned to his regular travel pace, leaving you all still hiking through the Colorado wilderness. You'd both had to make a pretty tough decision in regard to whether you'd travel by roads and through small abandoned communities or stick to the secluded safety of the forest. Arguably you'd get to your destination faster by road, but safety had become a much higher priority ever since Joel's close call, not to mention Ellie had obviously become extremely wary of other people. The last thing you needed was to run into another group – or worse, a cult like David's. Besides, sleeping deep in the forest meant less need for frequent watches, which meant more good sleeps for both you and Joel that kept you well rested and alert... among other things.

The sun had started setting when Ellie first saw the sign, running ahead with a wide eyed expression and extending her arm out to point to the faded wooden letters.

“'Evergreen Haven Hideaway'”, she read aloud “Come for a relaxing soak in our hot springs'” she turned around to look at you and Joel, a confused expression on her face, “What are hot springs?”

“Holy shit,” you'd muttered breathlessly, jogging forward a bit to catch up to Ellie and peer at the sign, “They're like natural outdoor baths, the water stays really warm even when it's cold outside.”

“Baths?” she'd looked at you incredulously, “Like we could actually get clean here?”

“Well, without soap we can't do much, but being submerged in water that's not gonna make us freeze to death sounds good to me.”

“Hold on,” Joel had caught up to you, expression serious, “Look at the other sign.”

Your eyes scanned ahead of you and you noticed another wooden sign that had fallen down into the dirt, half covered by plant growth: Cabins and Campground for All Ages.

“This ain't just a hot spring, it's a resort.”

Your face visibly fell and Ellie raised an eyebrow, “So?”

“So,” Joel sighed, looking around suspiciously as if he half expected to see someone emerge from the treeline, “That last place where everything went down, that was a resort too. Albeit much larger and not secluded, but still a resort.”

At the mention of David's compound, Ellie's expression changed, her eyes suddenly cold and hard. You watched as she clenched her left hand into a fist, then swiftly turned around to face away from you and Joel so you couldn't see her face.

“Nothing could be worse than that place,” she said stoically, evenly.

You and Joel looked at each other, sharing a glance that echoed the exact same sentiment: she wasn't going to take no for an answer, not anymore.

Sighing, Joel shook the rifle off his shoulder and checked the rounds. You pulled out your handgun and did the same thing, biting your lip. You were both running out of bullets, not to mention food, and you both knew that an opportunity like this to find some supplies wasn't going to come along again any time soon. Hearing the rattle of artillery, Ellie spun back around. Her cold expression was suddenly replaced with a wide smile when she saw what you were doing.

“Fuck yeah!” she said excitedly, slipping her backpack off and digging through it to find her gun, “Hot springs!”

“Hot springs,” you repeated with a smile, eyeing Joel.

He nodded but his expression was still serious, “Hot springs.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #tlou fic #joel miller #*#fic: one thing i'm missing

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anto-pops · 1 year

Text

Inherent Desires - Sebastian Sallow x Female! Reader

Summary: After a draining week away from home with his fellow Aurors, the last thing Sebastian wants to do is sit through a damn dinner party with all of them in London. Lucky for him, your presence at the event gives him the perfect opportunity to do more entertaining things, like work you into a frenzy at the table.

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian wanting to go home and roll around in the sheets with you, but since he can't he settles for fucking you downstairs in his boss's house

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, mild voyeurism

I wrote this under the influence of Covid so don't look at it too closely. Full fic can be found here on Ao3!

Sebastian wanted to go the fuck home.

He hadn’t even wanted to attend his boss’s stupid dinner party. Hauling ass all the way to London didn’t sound remotely appealing to him, especially when he’d only just arrived home from Poland the night before. It was well after midnight when he’d apparated into the living room of your shared home, exhausted and craving your familiar embrace like a man denied water. You’d been asleep though, and before he had the chance to reacquaint himself with your body earlier that morning, he’d received the summons for a celebratory feast in his squad’s honor.

Why they needed to further celebrate taking down a dragon fighting ring, he didn’t know. His work was cut out for him despite the completed assignment; it just meant more paperwork, more meetings, and evidently more formalities that he didn’t care to entertain. You had convinced him to attend– if only because the whole soiree was in his honor. Sebastian’s absence would have been apparent and awkward to address later down the line.

You’d told him he could grouse all he wanted, and Merlin— was he succeeding. His arms were crossed loosely across his chest while he sat back in his seat, eagerly awaiting the end of the night with his lips pursed and his brows furrowed. Sebastian’s expression might have come across as focused and domineering to everyone else, but to you it just looked downright irate. His boss had to be getting to him after weeks of working together so closely.

How did the saying go again? Familiarity breeds contempt, or something like that. It seemed to fit the situation to a ‘T’.

No rational thinking could change the fact that Sebastian didn’t want to be here. Especially with you seated beside him looking ten different kinds of seductive.

You were positively ravishing. Donned in the silky, forest green dress that Sebastian had gifted you this morning, the material clung to your feminine frame like a glove and left little to the imagination. He wanted nothing more than to run his hands all over you– to finally satiate the undeniable urge to sheathe himself in your tight core once again. The most he’d been able to do was help you get dressed earlier, and the seductive drag of his fingers up your spine as he zipped you up had been enough to make his intentions clear to you.

There was a time and a place, however, and you’d told him as much with a sultry look before heading outside to the carriage. Since then, he was having a hard time focusing on anything else.

From his seat next to you, he could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and the low hum of your ancient magic charged the air and made his hair stand on end. Sebastian had to dig his nails into the upholstery of his seat to refrain from touching you openly. The smell of your perfume was like an aphrodisiac after seven long, grating days spent away from it. Nevermind the flush on your cheeks from all the wine you’d consumed; it made you look all the more alluring, and the half-chub he’d been sporting was quickly becoming something bigger and more bothersome.

Sebastian considered his next move carefully, glancing around the comically large dinner table fit for a villain before he turned his attention back to you. Your arm was outstretched to accept another generous serving of red wine, your lips curling into a practiced smile as you murmured a low, “Thank you.”

Marlowe Selwyn, the host of the evening, chose that moment to charm away everyone’s dirty plates and replace the picked apart main course with an extravagant looking cake in the center of the table. Your eyes were wider than saucers as you took in the impressive sight, and Sebastian smiled despite his sour mood. Sometimes suffering through these things was worth it to see you so easily pleased. He knew you had a wicked sweet tooth.

He did too, if he was being honest, but the sudden realization that he would rather have you for dessert hit him like a steaming train, and his cock twitched in his trousers enthusiastically.

“Once again, a grand toast to Sallow’s squad for a job well done in Poland,” Marlowe announced, his bald head glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. The wine had to be warming him up thoroughly. “I’ve always had high expectations for you all and you never fail to impress. Here’s to many more successes in the near future, cheers.”

You lifted your glass in solidarity, watching as all the Auror’s around the table did the same as they hooted and hollered their agreements, when you suddenly felt a broad hand plant itself on your thigh.

When you glanced up, Sebastian was staring at you with a blank expression, but there was no way you missed the mischievous glint in his eyes. You shot him a sideways look of your own, biting your tongue to stifle a quip, but the brunet only huffed out an airy laugh under his breath. You brought your wine glass back to your lips to take a generous sip and school the building tension in your shoulders. It was pointless, however, seeing as Sebastian started to drag his fingers up your leg to gather the material of your dress into a balled heap.

You knew exactly what he was trying to do, and the thought made you flush deeper and shudder nervously. While your lower half was concealed by the table, there would be no hiding your reactions to Sebastian’s touch if he continued. Once he’d haphazardly pushed the majority of your dress up your legs to expose his target, you visibly tensed and dropped one of your own hands to grip his, anxiously looking around the room at the slew of tipsy Ministry officials who were none the wiser to Sebastian’s horny antics at the far end of the table.

Sebastian licked his lips in a bid to hide his cheshire-like smile while he watched you, noting your sharp intake of breath when he cautiously ventured closer to your nether region. Your back seemed to go rigid at the sudden attention, and he felt your nails dig into the skin at his wrist when he finally pressed his middle finger against your thin undergarments, sparing a quick glance down the row of seats to ensure he hadn’t been discovered. Marlowe was still talking, and his co-workers were preoccupied with watching him cut the massive cake, which meant he was in the clear for the time being.

Your wine glass shook in your hand when Sebastian trailed his finger down to seek out the tiny bundle of nerves at your center, causing you to whip your head to the side to stare at him unblinkingly. Your voice was low when you hissed out, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He shot back easily with a knowing smirk.

“It looks like you’re being incredibly careless. Knock it off, this isn’t the time–” you were cut off by your own gasp when he finally planted the tip of his finger against your aching core, rubbing firm, teasing circles around your clit through the cotton of your panties. You felt your face heat up as you shifted your hips back in an attempt to pull away from the abrupt pleasure, but Sebastian followed you easily. There was virtually nowhere for you to go to escape his brazen ministrations.

“What about you, Mrs. Sallow?” You heard Marlowe ask from the other side of the table, and you jumped slightly in your seat from having been quickly roped back into the moment at hand. “Have you given any further thought to my offer?”

Sebastian stilled his movements– just barely– so that he could glare fixedly at his boss. You had no idea what the man was even referring to, but clearly your husband did. Swallowing thickly, you released Sebastian’s wrist to gingerly set your wine glass down on the table, then tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Sorry… what offer?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten! I’m referring to the Auror position– for you to join our ranks in the Ministry. Your abilities are squandered, my dear. Think of all the good work we could accomplish with the help of your ancient magic.”

Oh, right. That offer.

It wasn’t the first time Marlowe had pitched the Auror title to you, and something told you it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Your answer had never changed though; becoming an Auror was something you had decided against a long time ago, preferring to maintain your freedom to travel where you wanted, when you wanted. Besides, your exploration of ancient magic sites was far from complete, and with so much left to discover and unearth, you found yourself shaking your head through the lustful fog that clouded your mind.

It was far too difficult to keep your voice steady when Sebastian started pressing down on your clit again. Your voice was tight as you squeezed your knees together under the table, but he didn’t let that stop him. “I apologize, Mr. Selwyn, but I’m afraid my answer is still the same.”

Marlowe’s beady eyes narrowed scrupulously, and his lips pursed with obvious disappointment, but he gave you a firm nod all the same. “I see. Well… should you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

You were certain he didn’t mean for the statement to come out so suggestive, but you simply gave him a curt nod before turning your attention to your lap. The veins in Sebastian’s hands were swollen and apparent, his irritation with his boss palpable, but he rewarded your indifferent reply with a quick swipe up your dampening folds, and you had to bite your lip to refrain from moaning in earnest. This was a game you were quickly losing, and the growing fire in your gut was as intoxicating as it was sobering.

You were petrified of being discovered.

“Are you alright, dear? You look rather ill,” another one of Sebastian’s squad members asked you from across the table. You were positive you’d met the man before, but his name escaped your memory completely. In fact, your mind was utterly blank of any prudent information– save for the acute placement of Sebastian’s long, cunning fingers.

Dozens of heads swiveled in your direction to scrutinize your seemingly ‘ill’ appearance, and you hastily shoved Sebastian’s hand away from between your legs and tugged your dress down. “Yes, I’m fine. I suppose the wine is starting to get to me– please excuse me for a moment.”

You didn’t wait to gauge your husband’s reaction. Instead you swiftly stood from your seat, offering a polite smile to Marlowe and the rest of the attendees before you strode out of the dining room to head for the downstairs restroom. The sound of your heels clicking against the marble stairs filled the foyer– betraying your hurried pace and giving away just how desperate you were for a modicum of privacy. You shouldered the door open and closed it quickly, latching the lock into place before you turned to stare at your reflection.

Shit.

As if wine could make you look so frazzled. You were scarlett from head to toe, and your dress was mildly wrinkled in the areas Sebastian had bunched up and shoved out of the way to play with you. A nagging voice in the back of your mind threatened to brutalize him for nearly humiliating you in front of all his co-workers, but a louder, much needier voice was suddenly demanding that you leave with him to go home and make him finish what he’d started.

Up until now, you’d been fairly surprised with Sebastian’s restraint. You knew he was as eager as you were to fool around after such an abrupt and grating business trip, but he’d seemingly been on his best behavior all evening. You should have known his patience would run out before you even left London. He was way too predictable.

The distinct sound of a lock being charmed open reached your ears, and you stepped further into the dimly lit bathroom to prematurely glare at who you already knew had come searching for you. Sebastian poked his head through the entryway first, grinning diabolically when he caught sight of your unkempt appearance before stepping through the threshold and shutting the door– all without taking his dark eyes off of you.

“You have some gall, you know that?” You immediately started in on him, jabbing an accusatory finger in his direction while you raked your other hand through your hair. “Have you gone completely mad? Are you trying to embarrass us both?”

Sebastian adjusted the flared collar of his Auror coat with a smug expression on his face, shrugging nonchalantly as he leaned against the closed door. “I don’t think you realize how good you look tonight.”

“That’s hardly an excuse–”

“Yes it is. You’re distracting me. As soon as I got home last night, all I wanted was to be inside of you– frankly it’s unacceptable that I haven’t been yet. Then you go and wear something like this and expect me to eat Selwyn’s shitty dessert? I’d much rather have you.”

“I– but– you gave me this dress,” you stammered out indignantly, which only served to make Sebastian chuckle.

“I did, and you look radiant, make no mistake. I suppose it’s my own fault for insisting you wear it tonight.” He stepped away from the door, the predatory glint in his eyes deepening as he moved to plant himself directly behind you facing the mirror. “I thought I’d be able to hold off until later, but I don’t see that happening anymore.”

You watched through the reflection as Sebastion wound his strong arms around your midsection, tugging you flush against his chest so he could run his hands up your front. The closer he got to your breasts, the shallower your breathing became, and you reached behind yourself to place your palms against the brunet’s toned legs in an attempt to ground yourself. “S-Sebastian, not here. Merlin– what if Marlowe comes looking and walks in?”

He lowered his head to nuzzle his lips against your thunderous pulse, pressing wet, chaste kisses along the slender column of your neck. Once he found one of your pert nipples through the silky material draped over you and pinched lightly, your restraint started to slip away.

Then again, had it really been there in the first place? Your resolve where Sebastian was concerned was always about as strong as wet tissue paper. He knew exactly what buttons to press to get what he wanted from you, and you rarely had any complaints to voice after the fact– save for when he was acting like a complete prat in the process.

“If he does, then he’ll be the luckiest bastard alive for all of two seconds before I kill him.”

“Sebastian!”

“I’m joking, darling. I do hate the way Selwyn speaks to you, though. He’s too familiar with you for my liking.” He looked up at your flustered self staring wide-eyed at him in the mirror, dropping one of his hands to the space between your legs while the other trailed higher to curl around your throat, and your stomach flipped over on itself from the possessive hold he had on you. Sebastian’s hand tightened a fraction to press your head against his shoulder, leaving you arched deliciously across the front of his torso– and he swore up and down he wouldn’t be able to hold back, even if he wanted to. “Let me fuck you here. I’ll be so good to you, I promise. To hell with the party, we can leave right after.”

Your pulse fluttered beneath Sebastian’s broad hand as you sucked in a shaky breath, watching with rapt interest as his wandering fingers began tugging up the green fabric of your dress once again. The urge to stop him was nowhere to be found despite the circumstances, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you willed your brain to function rationally. “By that logic we could just leave now and spare ourselves the embarrassment of being caught. The carriage is literally waiting outside.”

Sebastian tugged your head back a smidge further to give himself easier access to lave his hot tongue along the shell of your ear, drawing a shiver from you that he felt reverberate through your prone form. “That line of thinking is flawed– I would still have to wait in that case, and if I have to wait any longer I’ll lose my fucking mind.”

Shifting your feet to better support yourself, the tiny movement allowed your backside to rub perfectly against Sebastian’s painfully hard cock. You hadn’t doubted him in the slightest when he said he was impatient, but feeling his arousal pressed against your ass made his predicament all the more apparent, and you couldn’t help the slight smile that broke out across your face when his strained breathing fanned across your temple.

“Gods, do you want me to beg? Because I will, I’ll get on my knees for you here and now. Please darling– please let me– I need you so badly, you have no clue.”

The entire time he was talking, his hips were rocking against you– shamelessly deriving his own pleasure from the friction the movement provided. The entire display really had no business being so attractive, especially considering you were literally locked in Marlowe Selwyn’s downstairs bathroom. Much as you’d expected, however, Sebastian was working you into a tizzy with sorely little effort, and you were as keen to feel him as he was to feel you.

Sebastian hoisted your dress up your legs slowly, taking his time and observing your every reaction in the mirror with an intensity that made your head spin. “You’re certifiably insane, but fine,” you relented, dragging one of your hands in front of you to gingerly grasp Sebastian’s forearm. “We have to be quick though, I really don’t want anyone to come looking.”

With your dress hiked up mostly out of the way, Sebastian had enough leeway to run his palms up your bare stomach, gently scratching his nails along the soft, smooth skin as he went. “The absolute last thing I want to do is rush through this… you know I like to take my time.”

“Then save the rest of your horny fantasies for after we get home. Unless you secretly want someone to walk in on us. Are you that eager for your boss to see your cock?”

You felt Sebastian’s deft hand scale down towards your aching center once more– only this time he slipped the appendage under the thin cotton of your underwear, and his fingers were instantly met with your pooling slick. He practically guffawed at your taunt and flashed you a cunning smirk through the mirror, “Now who’s certifiably insane?”

“Still you. This was your idea, remember?”

He chuckled darkly against your ear as he finally slid one of his slender digits through your sopping wet folds, and the shaky breath you let out was like music to his ears. Your lips parted around a moan as he began working you open on his finger, your grip on his arm tightening just barely to keep yourself upright as you practically melted against his chest. Sebastian set an even rhythm, focusing intently on getting as deep within you as he could given the precarious angle, but he was utterly adoring watching you fall apart in the reflection of the mirror. There was no chance he would risk moving you around and lose his opportunity to witness your pleasure so closely.

Trailing hot kisses down your neck and across your exposed shoulder, Sebastian curled his finger inside your pulsing heat, pressing and twisting expertly inside of your familiar core to prepare you for what you both desperately wanted. Your airy whimpers bounced off the marble walls of the bathroom, imbuing Sebastian with a vigor that had his cock twitching avidly against your ass.

“I’ll make you feel so good, darling,” Sebastian murmured directly in your ear, subtly withdrawing his finger before plunging back in with a second. A keening whine slipped from your throat as you wriggled your hips back onto his fingers, the wet sounds reaching your ears and making you flush impossibly further. “I’ve wanted this since I left last week– you’re so fucking perfect, Merlin, the things you do to me…”

Sebastian’s praises had you sighing loudly, your resolve a thing of the past as you took in the sinful scene playing out in the mirror. His strong arm draped across your front to hold your throat effectively caged you to him, and his imposing stature behind you dwarfed you in comparison. At this point in your adult lives, he towered over you, and some inherent, primal part of you loved that fact.

Everything transpiring was almost enough to lull the two of you into a slower, more sensual pace, until the distinct sound of heavy footsteps from down the hall had you both tensing in place. You let go of Sebastian’s arm to cover your mouth, not trusting yourself to remain quiet without some help– especially because your husband didn’t stop finger fucking you. The conniving bastard flashed you a grin that said it all; he didn’t give a single shit if anyone heard you.

Maybe he really was an exhibitionist.

The footsteps got closer, closer, until they bypassed the bathroom entirely and continued further down the hall to enter a different room. You exhaled a breath that you didn’t know you’d been holding and let your hand slide away from your mouth, fixing Sebastian with a sharp look despite your disheveled appearance.

“Please Sebastian, hurry up,” you managed to squeak out through your tight throat. The pressure building in your gut was borderline torturous, and a wanton moan tumbled from your wine stained lips when he scissored his fingers right before he curled them again, fuck–

“Are you that worried about being caught?” He mused, his mouth watering hungrily when you turned your head to bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“Yes,” you whispered against his heated skin. “J-Just– come on–”

Sebastian raised his shoulder to jostle you out of your hiding spot, swiftly capturing your lips in a desperate kiss that made your knees tremble and left your mind blank. His tongue delved deep in your mouth, tangling with your own as he swallowed every tiny mewl his fingers pulled from you. As much as he loved the prospect of teasing you, he was impatient too. Not as a result of being discovered— but because it had already been an entire week since he’d been inside of you— and the phantom feeling had haunted his every waking moment in Poland.

Licking his lips, his dark eyes hot with pure lust, Sebastian pulled his fingers from your throbbing cunt and carefully walked you forward so your hip bones were pressed against the bathroom counter. You felt his hands trail up your waist to tug down your undergarments, letting them fall around your ankles haphazardly. It seemed to pain him to step away, but he did it anyway to undo his belt and release his cock from the confines of his trousers and briefs altogether. It sprung free and he moved directly behind you once more, the lush feeling of his girthy member settling between your cheeks enough to make you twitch your hips back in a silent invitation.

Sebastian’s broad hands found your hips again, hastily moving your dress out of the way so he could grip you with a strength that had your mouth drying out instantly. “Do you think you can keep quiet or should I cast a silencing charm just in case?”

“Just shut up and fuck me already,” you growled over your shoulder at him. His throaty laugh was his only reply before you felt his weight settle over your back, his lips pressing soothingly against your shoulder as he slowly and carefully spread you open with his thick cock.

“F-Fuck, darling– you’re so warm–” he grit through his clenched teeth, barely restraining himself as he bottomed out and slid his sweaty palms up your body to feel along the sensual curve of your waist. Having the good grace to give you a second to adjust, Sebastian’s labored breathing filled the room, and your head fell forward between your shoulders at the overwhelming fullness you felt. “Is it okay?”

“Gods, yes–” you gasped out as he ground into you slightly. “Were you always this big?”

That was all he needed to hear for his patience to evaporate into thin air.

Sebastian’s hold on you tightened as he abruptly set to filling you in short, quick thrusts, using your hips as leverage to pull you back onto his cock. His eyes damn near crossed at the feeling— instilling you with the willpower to meet him halfway— and you started rocking back into him with stuttering, panting breaths as your eyes fluttered shut. For a few heated moments, all that could be heard were both of your throaty moans echoing off the bathroom walls, coupled with your needy pleas for “More, Sebastian, more,” which in turn had your lover growling as he started fucking you harder and deeper.

The sound of skin slapping against skin was fucking intoxicating. You threw your head back with your eyes clenched shut, biting your lip to stifle a groan, and Sebastian took full advantage of your closer proximity to grab a fistful of your hair and yank you back towards him. His other hand stayed planted firmly on your hip, holding you steady as he railed into you in search of that magic spot that he knew would reduce you to a boneless heap. All you could do was grip the rim of the sink and pray to whatever higher power existed that you would make it through the night without being branded a harlot by your husband’s co-workers.

Leaning down to bite at the side of your neck, you heard and felt Sebastian’s raspy command against your sweat-slick skin, “Open your eyes and watch me fuck you– watch how good you look taking my cock– come on sweetheart, open those pretty eyes for me, please?”

How the hell were you supposed to say no to that?

You cracked open your bleary eyes to find Sebastian’s carnal expression fixed solely on you over your shoulder. The red flush that covered you from head to toe was offset by the dark green coloring of your dress, and your hair was beyond messy gathered in Sebastian’s unrelenting vice grip. In turn, he looked positively animalistic; still decked out in his Auror uniform, his appearance was incredibly striking, and the fire that burned behind his eyes was as commanding as it was reverent. He broke eye contact briefly to look down between you both– enamored with the way you seemed to suck his cock in deeper with every hurried thrust– and when he glanced back at your half-hooded eyes taking in the sight of him, he felt a pang of arousal shoot straight to his core.

“Merlin, you’re gorgeous. You look so pretty with my cock in you, darling,” Sebastian all but purred at your reflection, and the broken moan his comment elicited from you left him grinning like a madman. Your thighs shook with the intensity of your mounting pleasure, and he made a show of releasing your hip to drag his hand sensually down the front of your dress again. “You love it, don’t you? Being filled up by me with dozens of people around? You’re doing so good, I missed this– I missed you.”

The pointed thrust Sebastian bestowed on you did you both a slew of favors. Your eyes went wide and rolled closed as the head of his cock brushed past that hypersensitive spot deep within you, and your mouth fell open as a loud, unconcealed cry snaked its way up your throat. Slapping your hand over your mouth, you heard as Sebastian moaned at the way you squeezed around him, ramming his hips against you faster in a bid to fuck your orgasm out of you in rough, claiming thrusts.

Sebastian’s name fell from your lips again, muffled by your hand, and your legs quaked under you as you were rendered limp against the countertop. Your nails dug into the sides of your cheeks as you frantically looked towards the door– the knowledge that any one of the people here could walk in and find you setting your teeth on edge in ways you’d never anticipated. A deep rooted groan slipped through your fingers as you chanced a look over your shoulder at your husband with desperate eyes.

At this point, Sebastian knew your tells almost better than he knew his own. He released your hair from his fist to plaster himself to you, pounding his cock into your wet heat as he whispered, “Are you close, darling? Want to come?”

Nodding brainlessly, you gasped into your hand before you ripped it away from your face and slapped it against the counter, your nails scrambling to find purchase atop the smooth surface. You were getting close– so close– but you didn’t trust yourself not to wail out for more, so you just trembled beneath Sebastian and hoped that he could feel your looming finish.

His strong fingers flexed and dug into your hip as his other hand crept lower under your bent torso, seeking out your soaked clit expertly, and as soon as he found it, there was little time for you to brace yourself for the tight circles he brutally bestowed upon you.

“F-Fuck, fuck,” you cried out, eternally grateful to be half-laying on the countertop, because there was no fucking way your legs could support you through the blissful haze that clouded your mind. “Sebastian, please–”

It was too much. Your breath caught in your throat as you shivered, whining against the cool marble finish beneath you as Sebastian rammed into you, timing his thrusts with his fingers at your throbbing center. The filthy, wet sounds emanating from between the two of you made his head go completely empty, and he sank his teeth into your shoulder to stifle his own lustful groans as his hand between your legs picked up its pace.

“Come for me, love– come on my cock, please, I need you to,” Sebastian fucking whimpered against the spit-slick imprint of his teeth, and the tenor to his voice told you he was right there on the cusp with you.

The pressure from his fingers and his rough pace was more than enough to send you spiraling, and when you finally came, it took everything in you not to scream Sebastian’s name at the top of your lungs. You rode out the pulses of ecstasy with your tongue clamped between your teeth to fight the noises that threatened to give you both away, but the brunet had no such qualms and pumped into your tightening walls once, twice, then came with a guttural moan that echoed off the walls of the bathroom.

Sebastian muttered your name softly as he sucked in shaky breaths after a moment, rocking his hips into you until he’d emptied himself completely and you were nothing more than a frail, twitching heap under him. Your overstimulated walls seemingly clamped around him even more when he leaned forward to pepper featherlight kisses against your temple, wringing mind-bending waves of pure rapture from him until it started to hurt from how sensitive he was.

Sliding out of you with a contented sigh, Sebastian dotingly ran his hands down your sides to stir you from your post-coital stupor. You lifted your head to blearily stare at him through the mirror, doing your best to commit his fucked-out appearance to memory– and ironically, he seemed to be doing the same.

“What do you think?” He asked you after a few heated seconds. “Do you think anyone heard?”

He may as well have doused you with a bucket of ice water. You didn’t even want to consider the possibility.

Miraculously, you found the strength to push yourself off the counter with quivering arms, grateful that Sebastian was there to steady you on your near boneless legs. “I’d rather not stay and find out, to be honest,” you murmured under your breath, and he chuckled as he brought his hands up to rake through his curly, mused hair.

“Fine by me,” he acquiesced quickly. “What do you say we bail and continue this at home? Preferably horizontally.”

This man and his one-track mind… you had to fight your smile with everything in you. “Don’t you think you should say something to Marlowe first?”

Sebastian scoffed as he stuffed his softening cock back in his trousers, then bent down to gently tug your underwear up your shaky legs. “Say what? ‘Thanks for holding us hostage for another day after practically living together for a week’ or ‘Sorry for fucking my wife in your downstairs bathroom, have a great night’? Doesn’t sound very appealing to me.”

“Fair enough… Irish goodbye then?”

Sebastian’s grin split his face as he cocked his head to the side, affectionately working to fix up your hair. He let his fingers trail smoothly along your jaw until they were under your chin, tilting your head up towards him so he could kiss you with zeal that left you excited to return home. The way his lips molded to yours was tantamount to perfection, and you knew then and there that you would agree to anything he asked of you. You’d missed him far too much to deny him a damn thing.

“Irish goodbye,” he agreed coyly.

You let Sebastian clean you up a bit more before he led you out of the bathroom and through the foyer, ignoring the direction of the dining room entirely in favor of the front door. Quieter than mice, the two of you escaped into the chilly night, laughing at the sheer absurdity of your antics the entire ride home. Sebastian’s wandering hands distracted you brilliantly for the bulk of the journey, and by the time you made it home, your earlier concerns had dissipated fully from your mind.

You never did find out if Mr. Selwyn or his party-goers were privy to your escapades after that, and quite truthfully, you didn’t think you ever wanted to find out.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x female! reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow oneshot #my writing #you're married to Sebastian in this cause fuck it we ball #if you see any inconsistencies in this no you don't okay I had the brain power of a walnut while writing this

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blingblong55 · 6 months

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Landslide -Simon "Ghost" Riley

Based on a request: I was talking about military father-daughter balls with a coworker and as a fluff request to also cleanse your asks: How about Simon walking into his daughters room wearing his suit, going to ask his wife to do his bow tie because he's never been one for formal occasions and sees R/N is getting their daughter ready into her dress and doing her hair.

---- F!Reader, fluff, dad!Ghost, father-daughter moment ----

It's an old tradition that dads did with their daughters, something he never expected to attend and here he is, getting in his dress uniform. His ribbons, medals and the tight berret all decored him. As he was about to put his last medal on, he remembered the stupid tie. He was good at tying ropes but stupid ties that made him forget everything he learned were just…ugh where is his darling wife when he needs him?

"Bloody thing-" he gets cut off by a giggle from his daughter. Oh, that sweet sound that made him retire years ago. As his daughter giggles, he finds himself smiling and forgetting about the tie and the one woman who knows how to tie one is his sweet wife. Slowly, he finds himself walking to the bedroom, looking down as he tries to figure out how to tie this without looking and feeling dumb.

"And then daddy will dance with me?" your sweet daughter says and you nod. "He will and you best be on your best behaviour, okay?" You say as you fix zip her dress up and smile. Simon leans on the doorway and smiles. This is the life any soldier like him ever dreamed of.

He doesn't want to interrupt, this is a special moment after all and he hopes that this becomes a tradition. One that he can continue even with the little one in your soft belly.

Your daughter with a small pout asks if she will always be as pretty as she is tonight and before you can answer, Simon does it for you. "Your daddy's little princess, of course, you'll always be as pretty– no, you'll always be as beautiful and elegant as tonight, just like your mum," he smiles and winks your way.

He always has a way with words and always knows when to compliment you and your princess.

"Now sit still, I have to finish this braid," you softly say and smile. Your little girl is as eager as ever to go out with her dad tonight. And as you do her hair, Simons sits on the edge of the bed, watching you both.

He went from guns, infiltrations and bombs to having pink stickers, toys, dolls and bows all over his home and he will never complain about it. It's beautiful really. He knows that the change is so different but it's so good, he likes the car rides to and from school where he has to play two certain songs over and over. And Soap may laugh at him anytime he gets in the car after a night out and the radio station is on a kid's station but he is a dad and fuck does he love being a dad.

Once you place the last bow and apply the glitter to her hair, Simon is next. Here he was, standing like a little kid to have his mother help him with something. "I just don't get it, love," he says as he lets you tie the tie. You smile, tightening and adjusting his shirt, "Just takes time, Si," you kiss his cheek and chuckle a little as you have to clean his cheek from the lipstick stain. He smiles like a lovesick fool.

A cheeky smile appears on him as your daughter takes his hand, "We'll be late daddy." she reminds him and he smiles. He taught her well, that time management was always important and if he had to arrive at an event at a certain time, he was always there 10 minutes earlier and now so will his daughter.

"Alright, c'mon," he picks her up and kisses your cheek. "We'll be home at 10:30, alright love?" he brushes your cheek and kisses your forehead. "You and the little lad stay warm," he says as he closes the front door.

The whole night was amazing for them both. She received flowers when she got to the car because gentlemen should always give flowers on special nights and she always danced with him all night.

It is a night for the years to come, a new tradition that will heal the old wounds of an old soldier.

Tags: @liyanahelena @uniquecroissant @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @frazie99 @night-mare-owl-79 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @defnotlpuluvyou @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @@konigssultwithghost @pinkblossomsworld @kaoyamamegami @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @@foxface013 @anonxasian @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @@sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95

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moonlightisdancing · 1 year

Text

Love Me Tender/ j.m.k

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Female Reader

Word Count: 2589

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI romantic josh, marking, oral sex (m & f receiving), whole lotta kissing, fingering, light biting, super light foot stuff (bare with me), very intimate & unprotected sex (wrap before you tap pls), breeding (do we expect anything else from me…), smoking

•

“C’mon, mama. We’re gonna be late.” Josh’s voice echoes from your shared bedroom into the bathroom.

The statement is quite ironic, Josh is almost always the reason you guys are “fashionably late” as he calls it. He didn’t disclose what he had planned for tonight, but he bought you a gorgeous black dress paired with silver heels. You assume something special as he’s finally home from tour, perhaps a small celebration of being back. He’s adamant you wear this specific outfit for tonight, but there’s one issue.

“I’m trying, baby! Can you come help me zip it?” The zipper starts at the middle of your back, making it almost impossible for you to zip on your own. You hear his footsteps through the bedroom.

He knocks his knuckles on the door frame. “Can I come in?”

“Of course, my love.”

He creaks the door open, walking up behind you in the mirror. Josh places his hands on your waist and his chin on your shoulder. He plants a kiss on your exposed shoulder before looking at your reflection in the mirror.

“Mm, fits you just how I like it. How’d I do? Does it feel okay?” He can’t take his eyes off of the plunging neckline in the reflection.

“It’s so pretty, the zipper’s in a weird spot, though. I can’t reach it.”

“Here, let me get it, angel.” He pulls away from you, leaving your back exposed to the cool air. He glides his hands down your hips and across your ass. You watch his reflection as his eyes lock onto the back of your lacy red bra he bought you for Valentine's Day.

“Y’know, I always liked this little number.” He runs his fingers under the elastic of the bra, tracing down your spine until he reaches the zipper.

“It always ends up on the floor before you get to see it!” You tease him.

“To be fair, I do like it better on the floor.” Josh is trying to get the zipper, but his fingers can’t grasp it.

Destined to get the dress zipped, Josh gets on his knees behind you. He places his hands on your hips for support as you feel his nose brush against your back. He’s attempting to pull the zipper up with his teeth. The feeling of him behind you like this drives you crazy, but you try to contain yourself knowing he has something planned for tonight. Your wandering mind is suddenly brought back to reality.

“Fuck!” Josh’s grip on your hips gets tight in anger.

“What happened, baby?” You were so busy daydreaming you hadn’t been paying attention.

“The fucking zipper broke.” He seems really upset about the faulty zipper.

“My love, I think I have a little black dress in the closet.” Before Josh can stop you, you make your way to the bedroom, and see it’s decorated with rose petals on the bed and unlit candles across the dresser.

“Josh, what’s all this for?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise for when we got home…” He stands in the doorway, looking defeated as all hell.

You feel bad for ruining his surprise, but in the same breath it turns you on knowing what his plans were for the night. You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his neck, he places his hands on your waist in response.

“Joshy, this is so cute, I love you.” You pout your lip at him.

“Yeah? I love you, too, baby.” He pulls you into his chest and kisses your neck.

The kisses begin to grow deeper as he starts to leave hot marks across your skin, you let out a small moan in response to his touch.

“You know we could just stay here if you want.” Josh says between the heated kisses on your neck.

“I’m good with that, yeah.” Your hands run down the warm, soft skin of his neck before finding themselves resting on his pecs.

You slide your hands down, fidgeting with the end of his shirt before working your hands underneath the thin fabric. The dragging of your nails against his stomach causes Josh to let out a breathy sigh. He runs his fingers through your hair, gently tugging at the base of his grip. You slowly fall to your knees, running your hands down his torso and thighs, locking your fingers into the waistband of his pants. You maneuver your head under his shirt, your lips finding their way to the soft flesh of his navel. You begin peppering kisses across his tummy as your hands trace small circles on his barely exposed hip bones. His cock is growing hard against your throat, begging for attention under the rough denim. You inch his pants down his firm thighs, hands finding their way around his ass. You place soft kisses on his clothed cock as it twitches under your sweet touch. Running your wet lips over him through his boxes leaves a smudged stain of red lipstick around his length. You dip your fingers into the waistband, knuckles dragging over his prominent hip bones. You unveil him to yourself, taking in the great detail, each one telling a different story. With your hands on his hips, you run your tongue from the base of his cock up his shaft, lips finding their way around his leaking tip. The swirling of your tongue makes Josh moan as he places his hands on top of yours.

“Baby?” He gently whispers.

“Yes, my love?” His eyebrows furrow in almost sadness as you pull away from him to respond.

“Let me do my thing first.” Josh wasn’t asking, he was telling you.

His hands find their way cupped around your face as Josh pulls you to your feet. He lowers himself onto his knees, swapping the roles of which you each occupied moments before, bringing the dress down with him. The heavy, black fabric rests at your feet as Josh kneels eye level with your core. He hungrily kisses you through your bright red panties, eyes glistening with pure lust. He brushes two fingers against your middle and pushes the lacy number to the side, letting the cool air excite your pussy more. Josh begins placing heated kisses up your thigh before reaching your core, burying his face into your warmth. His nose is brushing against the light patch of hair you keep, per his request, as his lips position themselves around your aching clit. He begins eating you out like he’s been deprived of your taste, or perhaps had never been fed. Through breathy moans on both ends, Josh makes a point to periodically look up and check he’s pleasing you the way you deserve. Suddenly you feel two fingers rubbing through your folds before they press through your entrance. You let out a sharp moan, one that Josh knows to be a good sign. He starts curling his fingers inside of you slowly as he continues making love to your clit. Inching closer to the edge, you reach your hands down and rake your fingers through Josh’s hair, grabbing handfuls at the scalp. You writhe under his touch, rocking against his motions to gain more friction from his tongue.

“Feels good, hm?” He hums into your aroused flesh, you’re growing tighter around his fingers as you near your climax.

“Cum for me, mama.” Josh’s fingers start to pick up a faster pace as you reach your high.

He works you through your orgasm as he replaces his tongue with the pad of his thumb, moving his body in line with yours. The room spins around you as Josh slowly takes his fingers out from your throbbing cunt. Taking the hint from you toying with the bottom hem, Josh removes his shirt exposing the soft, blushed skin of his torso. You run a hand down his heated body moving down to stroke his length, placing kisses across the skin of his neck and chest. He burries his face in your neck and begins tracing the dip in your back with his fingertips, running his fingers up and down your sweat coated skin.

“Josh?” You sound needy, almost begging for the attention you already had.

“Yes?” He lifts his head from your shoulder and moves a hand to push back fallen strands of hair blocking the view of your face. His palm lingers beside your face, his thumb rubbing over the highest point of your cheek.

“Can we fuck?” You always felt silly asking, but you liked to make sure you were on the same page. There had been plenty times in the past where Josh wanted nothing more than to pleasure you, not worrying about his own release.

“Yeah, of course, mama.” The lust-filled look never left his eyes, but was now seemingly brighter at your request for more.

The two of you find your way over to the bed. Josh gently pushes you back into the pillows, sending the white rose petals flying around you. Josh slides the dress off of your ankles and tosses it onto the floor. He slowly takes your strappy, silver heels off of your feet, placing soft kisses along the bottom of each one followed by the circular motion of his thumbs. He positions himself between your legs and hovers over you, an arm on either side of your head as you trace the defined muscle of his biceps with your fingers. He leans his head down to touch his forehead to yours, making his cold pendant press against the heated skin of your sternum, cooling the triangular shape it rests upon your skin in. Foreheads touching, alongside the tips of your noses, Josh takes in all of you.

“Look at me, angel.” You open your eyes and see his brown doe eyes staring back at you.

His stare wasn’t anything fierce or scary. Usually prolonged eye contact made you uncomfortable, but his never did. From the moment you’d met Josh, you’d yearned for his eyes to be fixed on you any chance they got. Josh always loves to mention how the eyes are the windows to the soul, and each time he performs this act on you, you easily welcome him into your unlocked home. It’s always felt like he belonged there, inside of your soul. He has been the only one to see you so deeply and show you how it feels to love and be loved. He’s taken the time to make every sexual interaction with you feel connected no matter how heated the moment got. The soul bonding goes on for what feels like an eternity, but in reality only a few minutes have passed. During the time of getting lost in eachother’s minds, bodies and spirits, your legs found their way wrapped around his waist. Josh breaks the eye contact with a series of loving kisses to your plush lips. The sweet flavor of mint toothpaste, cigarettes and weed lingers on his tongue, a combination you longed for while he was gone.

“I missed you, and this…” You whisper between his taste.

“I missed you, too, mama. And I missed her.” He says as he dips his hips down pressing his solid length against your needy core.

You reach a hand down to grab onto his cock, rubbing him between your velvety folds before resting him at your entrance. You open your eyes to see if he’s watching, but his are screwed shut paired with furrowed brows and open lips. Placing your hands on either side of his face, you lift your hips into his, feeling every muscle in his body tighten and fall into the feeling of you.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He opens his eyes and presses his forehead to yours again, returning to the art of staring, this time more intimate than the last.

He moves his hands from beside your head to underneath your back, pulling you into his chest in a strong hug. Josh slowly moves his hips back and forth, making sure to dip down at the end of each stroke to rub against your clit. You run your fingertips over his bare back as his grip deepens into yours. Josh can make you cum almost instantly when he wants to, but he was taking his time, wanting to feel you for as long as he can. Sweat begins to form on each of your bodies, his wet curls resting against your forehead.

“I’m so close, baby.” He loosens his grip on your back and snakes his arms out from underneath you.

He places them against the headboard, pushing himself up from you but never leaving your shelter. Josh reaches back for your legs and throws them over his shoulders, lifting your lower back off of the bed by a few inches. His strokes become longer with more desire behind each one as he places a mix of kisses and soft bites on the inside of your calf. One of his hands finds its way resting on your lower stomach, his thumb hovering above your clit, applying heavy pressure as his hips crash into yours. You start wiggling and whining under his touch as you near your second orgasm, you can tell he’s getting closer to the edge too by the faltering in his movements.

“Keep fucking me right there. Just like that.” You let out a crying moan. “Fuuuck! Oh my- Josh! That feels so fucking- oh my god I’m-” Before you can finish your thought, Josh brings you to another climax as he follows shortly behind.

“Oh, mama. Fuck, you’re so tight. Want me to cum in my tight little pussy?” You’ve always been entirely his, but hearing Josh claim ownership makes you melt into his touch.

You nod yes and he wastes no time following instructions. His hips stutter and you feel his twitching cock fill you to the brim, his warm release coating the inside of your orgasm swollen pussy. The prolonged eye contact is broken as Josh’s head falls back, his lips parted and neck on full display. You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he attempts to catch his faltering breath. He brings his head back where it belongs. Looking entirely fucked out of this world, he slowly lowers himself ontop of you peppering kisses along your jawline. You wrap your hands around the back of his head, running your fingers through the sweat-soaked curls at the nape of his neck. Once Josh catches his breath he rolls off of you, laying on his back. He lazily reaches over into the top drawer of the dark oak side table that resides next to your shared bed. You turn to your side and lean up on your arm to watch the movement of his bare body. Josh returns with a pack of yellow American Spirits and a black lighter. He flips the top open and presses his lips to the pack, pulling one cigarette out in the sexiest way anyone could. He closes the top and lets the pack fall into the dip of his chest, bringing the lighter to the cigarette.

“You want one?” He puffs the cigarette and blows the smoke away from you.

“Can I?” You reach for the pack but Josh waves your hand away.

“Let me get it, mama.” He returns the pack to his hand, this time grabbing one out with his index and thumb.

He presses the cigarette between your swollen lips and lights it with the cherry of his own.

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