#but like..... it was so fucking hard to follow that my brain just shut off after a certain point and it was just pretty lights and colors

[gir-posting]

i wish the barbie movie was good because it had some concepts that kicked me directly in the chest and made me cry my eyes out on the way home. but it is still at its root an overly contrived version of enchanted (2008) that's trying very very hard to be About Feminism and a toy commercial at the same time

[ms-demeanor]

I think the eight alarms thing is usually a maladaptation. You've trained your brain to ignore the eight alarms because you kept avoiding the training of willpower following the first alarm would require. I think some sleep therapy might help?

Hey so first of all fuck you, thanks.

Second: I love it when you read literature on sleep disorders, especially if it's on sleep disorders among folks with ADHD, and you see time and time again "when allowed to sleep on their preferred schedule subjects maintained healthy, normal, restorative sleep cycles" and "effects were not lasting without ongoing intervention; resetting the sleep schedule is a permanent effort."

Like, if I sleep *great* from 6am to 2pm and I wake up feeling rested and alert with no special help but I need to turn off the lights in my house and shut down all electronics at 8pm and beam a spotlight into my face starting at 5am to wake up at seven and feel exhausted all day, I think perhaps it is not actually my sleep cycle that is wrong it is perhaps society that is wrong.

BELIEVE ME, when I find the job that pays well and has decent insurance that lets me exist as a cheerful nighttime ghoul I am jumping on that with both feet. But until then I literally feel better getting six hours of sleep and occasionally sleeping so hard that i can't hear my alarms because of chronic sleep deprivation than I do turning off all the lights in my house and ceasing all activity two and a half hours after I get off of work.

Also: the eight alarms aren't all there to wake me up, it's just that sometimes I *also* sleep through the ones that are supposed to remind me to go sit at my desk and start work. One of the first three usually gets me up, but on a day when I sleep through all three of those I will be sleeping through all eight of them and usually a phone call and someone trying to shake me awake to.

ANYWAY after being treated with melatonin and light therapy and staring listlessly at the ceiling in the dark bored out of my skull with racing thoughts for sleep disorders that I didn't have for like twenty years the single most effective intervention that allowed me to get more sleep as someone with both ADHD and DSPD was to start hanging out and being active in places where it would be easy to fall asleep if the sleep caught me there instead of turning my bedroom into a dark, silent shrine of snoozing. Giving myself permission to fall asleep late instead of laying awake chewing myself up with guilt for not being asleep helped too.

Actually here's some tips for the sleepy bitches in the crowd:

1 - If you're laying down and not falling asleep in half an hour, you're not actually sleepy; read something or get up and do something because you're more likely to get sleepy faster that way than you are staring at the clock going "if I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and forty five minutes of rest when I have to go to work; If I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and twenty minutes of sleep when I have to get up, etc. etc."

2 - Allow yourself to be ambushed by sleep. Fall asleep on your cozy couch. Fall asleep in the comfy chair. Let yourself sleep where you fall asleep instead of dragging yourself to where you're 'supposed' to sleep if doing so will wake you up.

3 - The mythbusters thing. If you just lay down and close your eyes and pretend to rest you will feel more rested when you get up than when you laid down. Laying down to rest is better than nothing, it literally causes cognitive improvements similar to sleep in tests, and knowing that can help take off some of the pressure of not being able to fall asleep and can thus help you fall asleep.

4 - It's okay to "hang out" in the area where you're going to sleep. Read in bed. Play games on your cellphone in bed. If you want to go to sleep put on comfy clothes and bring a chill activity and hang out in your bed to do it so that all you have to do when you start getting sleepy is close your eyes.

5 - It's better to get some sleep than no sleep. Sometimes you look at the clock and it's six AM and whoops, fuck it. Okay, time for bed, don't stress that you're only going to get a few hours, a few hours is better than nothing. Lay down to pretend to rest at least and you'll probably feel okay.

6 - This one sounds silly and might not work for a bunch of people for a bunch of reasons but apparently there's some research suggesting that "well-rested" is a state of mind? I've had a reasonable amount of success with just telling myself "Yeah, I actually feel pretty good," and pushing through the day on a couple of hours of sleep. I don't *recommend* that and you should try to get as much sleep as possible, but yeah the next time you're low on sleep see what happens if you just try to decide to not be tired. It sounded like bullshit to me when I first heard it but I've found some success with it.

7 - This shit is cumulative. If you're doing a couple nights a week on low sleep that's not ideal but you're probably going to be pretty functional and you can work on it. If you overbook and overextend yourself for too long - I'm looking at you college students and new parents - it's going to add up. Try as much as possible to at least keep your sleep deficit nights spread out. (This message brought to you by writing 60k words of fiction in october and completely frying my brain because i wasn't getting enough sleep).

[mv1simp]

Slow Down♥️

Max Verstappen x Driver!Reader (SocialMedia!AU)

I’m so down if you’re ready, I’ll show you if you let me, girl (she said fuck me like I’m famous, I said okay)

You and Max Verstappen are very well known in the media, for having one of the most volatile rivalries in the sporting world. But Ferrari’s Princess and Redbull’s Mad Max send shockwaves through the paddock when your PR teams confirm you’re officially dating. The public have a hard time believing it…until your sex tape gets leaked on Twitter a month later. Social Media!AU

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, trying my hand at a SM! AU for the first time!!, dom! Max and switch! Reader, size kink, sexism, max being a feminist king

Everyone always said there was a thin line between love and hate. Frankly, you find it to be sexist bullshit, rolling your eyes everytime some interviewer or your friends or trainer would make some sly comment about so what’s going on between you and Max, with a suggestive wiggle of their eyebrows. Nothing, just him trying to run me off the track repeatedly and giving me 4 bruised ribs in Singapore when he clipped me illegally, you say with an annoyed tone. You know that if you were a man, and not the first female driver in decades in F1, you wouldn’t be getting randomly shippedwith all the drivers. And for gods sake, Verstappen off all people was the most laughable idea. The man was either being a violent menace on the track or an immature twelve year old off it, you think vehemently. You two had stayed well out of each others way in your Haas seat last year, with you leading the mid pack in the suboptimal car but Max remaining well out of reach at the front of the pack. But this year, you’d earned yourself a Ferrari seat and were ecstatic to finally be able to compete for a WDC.

That was, until you and Max Verstappen suddenly started to keep getting caught in each others crosshairs. What started as polite indifference between two coworkers blew up into a PR frenzy, with you and Max completing for the top step in the podium every race weekend. He thought you a reckless driver, getting lucky in a rocket ship this year and trying to sink her claws into something she can’t handle. You thought him over arrogant, a man who couldn’t handle losing to a girl, his fragile ego unable to handle losing a 4th WDC to a Ferrari driver who was only in her second F1 season.

And then, two months out from the end of the season, everything changed between you and Max. On a night out in Monaco with your friends, celebrating being home from triple headers, you’d had the unfortunate experience of being cornered by some drunk, sexist creep who thought he was entitled to touch you. He’d been stronger than you expected, pinning you in a dark alleyway and you just when you starting to freak out, Max of all people practically threw the guy off you. He’d angrily spat at the drunk to pick on someone his own size or he’d break his jaw next time, before leading you to his car with a gentle hand. Normally, you found Max’s far larger frame to be annoying, another way for him to intimidate you when he glared downwards. But that night you couldn’t help but be grateful for the muscular, tall man and his attentive blue eyes as you willingly follow him with wide, doe eyes.

The ride home had been silent, you nervously clutching the large sleeves of the hoodie Max had given you from his backseat. And when you’d thanked him for his help, saying you appreciate him looking out for you even though he hated you, he looked at you with genuine surprise. I don’t hate you, he’d said. Well, I suppose we have had our differences on the track. You snickered at this, muttering that’s one way of putting it. Max chuckled, making you peer at him curiously as you’d never heard him do that in your presence. He was actually very handsome, you noted, without an angry scowl on his face or that Redbull helmet covering him. Then you tell your tipsy brain to shut up because where the hell had that thought suddenly come from?!

But really, I think you’re a pretty amazing girl off the track, Max continued. It must be hard being the only female driver, but you always have something good to say to the dumb interview questions you get. And I’m not going to stand by and let any woman be felt up by some creep. Even if it’s the Princess of Ferrari, he adds with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at this, stepping out of his car as you reach your apartment. And when you offer him his hoodie back, he tells you to keep it. You can use it to stay warm at the next race - it’s Brazil, very rainy. Did I mention I’m called the rainmaster, incidentally? You burst out laughing at his lack of subtlety, and he smiles at having distracted you, making the scared look in your pretty doe eyes from earlier disappear. Fuck off, Verstappen, you giggle, and for once your words have no real bite.

By the time your second F1 season is over, and you’re receiving your trophy for the world championship at the Prizegiving Gala, the first female to do so, you and Max Verstappen have became good friends. Maybe something more, from all the time you’ve started spending together off the track gaming, playing padel, and going out drinking. You were far too afraid to ever say something to him, knowing the media response to the first female driver dating a fellow driver would be absolutely brutal. Besides, you had no idea if Max remotely felt the same way about you - his type seemed to be pretty models, not aggressive drivers who spent half her time plotting his downfall.

You’re surprised when he finds you at the after party, late into the night, where everyone is too plastered to note that the fallen Redbull champion is taking the winning Ferrari Princess to a private level on the yacht. If you think I’m going to apologise for breaking your winning streak, you can try again, you announce dramatically as you grin at him, 5 drinks in and pink lips loosened, letting him know you were jesting. Wouldn’t have it any other way, Princess, Max hums, coming to stand so close to you that your heart rate quickens when you feel warmth radiating from the taller, muscular driver. Besides, I’ll be taking the cup next year, anyways. Enjoy the high while you can, he says in his Dutch accent, all cocky.

You let out an outraged gasp at this, forgetting how close you two already are as you step towards him, accusing hand pressed against his firm chest. But before you can say anything, Max’s gorgeous blue eyes drop down to where your manicured nails are touching his pecs. And then he looks down further, to where your plush tits have pressed up against his abs, your cute red corset minidress pushing your cleavage up temptingly. There’s no mistaking the dark desire that swirls in his intense gaze as he looks back into your wide doe eyes. And then he’s leaning in, finally, you think, and then your brain wakes up and you remember who’s in front of you. We can’t, Max, you say breathlessly, dazed by how attractive he looks when turned on. Why not, the Dutchman demands, cocky as usual. You don’t want this, Princess? His large hand brushed your jaw, tilting your face upwards when you try to look away. Your breath hitched from the contact, and you’re sure he can feel how fast your carotid pulse is beating. It’s-it’s not that I don’t want to, you say with a blush, making a pleased smirk appear on Max’s lips. But I’m the only female driver on the grid, the public would tear me apart if they found out I hooked up with another driver on the grid-

Fuck what anyone else thinks, Max says passionately, the familiar spark of defiance in his eyes. I know the fallout from something like this would be much harder for you as a woman than me, and I waited till after the championship fight finished. No one can contest you didn’t win the cup with your own sheer skill. But now that it’s finished, I can’t hold back anymore. Your jaw drops from Max’s heated confession, never having guessed the handsome blonde would reciprocate your buried romantic feelings. And I don’t mean some one night stand or summer fling, he continued boldly. I want to be your boyfriend, I want you all to myself properly.

You must have had too many G&Ts, you hear yourself say distantly, cause you’re not even a little bit cute and shy like you normally are off the track, Verstappen. He smiles gently, knowing you were using humour to deflect from the swirling emotions within you. Maybe, he murmurs, bending down to rest his forehead against yours. Or maybe you look so fucking gorgeous in this red dress I knew I couldn’t hide how I feel anymore. When he feels your hand graze his chest, pulling him just a bit closer, he knows what you want. Pressing the gentlest of kisses to your glossed lips, he pulls back to make sure you still wanted more.

But he didn’t need to have any doubts, because you’re staring up at him sultrily, desire having darkened your own wide, doe eyes. This time you’re pulling him back onto your lips, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders so that there’s not even a millimetre of space between you too. He groans against you as the months of tension come to a head, the two of you languidly exploring each others’ mouths with your tongues.

Even if you’d woken up the next morning regretting your decision, there was no way you could turn down Max’s offer of a relationship. Because even if you had still hated him, the sex that night on the yacht has been so incredibly mind blowing, by far the best orgasm you had ever experienced, that you knew you’d never meet anyone who could fuck you so perfectly again. So you hesitantly said yes, let’s try this for real, Max over a late hungover brunch the next morning. The rest had been history - the two of you had spent the last 7 months in a secret relationship, not wanting the chaos of the media to ruin your relationship before it could even start properly. Max has proven time and time again you’d made the right decision saying yes, being the perfect boyfriend, dedicated to all your needs and wants, spoiling you endlessly and making you laugh whenever you had a bad day.

Sometimes things were hard, of course. Like when you two had tensions during a race, your private relationship doing nothing to dampen the competitive spirit you both shared. But you’d both make up after, whether it be with a long debrief and strategy talk on how to avoid an incident next time - or your personal favourite, some angry make up sex. Like you’d suspected, Max was an absolute sex god and you two enjoyed a very healthy sex life, exploring each others kinky preferences. So when you’d have to be away from each other for long periods, busy with planning and meetings at your separate team bases, your boyfriend came up with a solution once the nudes and phone sex didn’t quite hit the same.

Filming yourselves during sex seemed like a certain recipe for disaster, given how famous the two of you are and the consequences of anything got leaked. But the temptation was too great as weeks drag on without the touch of your boyfriend - so you agreed, just this once, to try it out.

Well, that had certainly been the plan. But the video had been so so nice to watch again and again anytime your pussy ached for Max that you can’t resist making more. And then last month when your teams had finally given the okay for an official announcement on your relationship, and the media response had overall been surprisingly positive, you two get too comfortable and Max accidentally sent the video over DM to you, instead of the encrypted chat you normally use.

And that was when shit hit the fan.

No, Max, go away, I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to see anyone ever again! The blonde Dutchman sighs he leans his head against the closed bathroom door with a worried expression on his face. You’ve locked yourself in his Monaco penthouse’s bathroom for the past 4 hours, not coming out despite how much he’s pleaded. Please, schatje, he tries again. I know it’s bad, but we’ll get through it together. Twitter had already banned any links of the video and both your PR teams are doing damage control and so many of the grid drivers and journalists were calling out the website that had leaked the tape. Please, I just want to see you, you can’t be locked in there forever and reading all the stuff online alone.

When you don’t reply, only sniffling through the door, he sighs again and slides down the door, making himself comfortable. A few minutes later he hears the door unlock and your red, crying face peeking through. Oh, schatje, he croons soothingly as you drop down into his arms and bury your face in his thick neck. He rubs soothing circles along your back as you sniffle that Everyone’s saying such horrible things, Maxie. How am I going to face going on the paddock ever again?

He reassures you firmly that you two would go hand in hand, united on the paddock with your heads held high, because you’ve done nothing wrong. He’d been doing the media game a lot longer than you and knew this scandal, like everything else, would get blown over with time. After your quiet sobs settle with his comforting words and tight hug, you pull back to look at him and apologise for shutting yourself away and not checking in on him. It’s your leaked tape too, you say anxiously. How are you feeling about it, baby?

He eases your concern again, telling you honestly that in the grand scheme of things, although it was a little mortifying he’s had worse in the media. Besides, it’s gonna be satisfying to crush whichever little fucker leaked the vid, he says vehemently. Any anyone who’s saying any bullshit sexist comments about you sleeping your way into F1 or anything is getting hit with a defamation lawsuit from legal, he declares, making your heart swell from his protectiveness. You still aren’t convinced, though. Are you sure, Max? I remember in that particular video, you can’t see much of my body but there’s definitely a lot of shots of your…

Dick? Your boyfriend finishes with a deadpan expression, That’s fine. Besides, I’ve nothing to be embarrassed about. You know the hashtag Verstappen’s third leg is trending on Twitter now? You giggle at his nonchalance, making Max smile at seeing you cheered up. You’ve finally having processed what happened enough to maybe see a bit of humour in it. True, I suppose it could have been worse, you muse. The Las Vegas video could have been the leaked one. Imagine how batshit the fans would have gotten if they saw the handcuffs were for you, not me. Max laughs genuinely, blue eyes looking fondly at your mischievous expression. The familiar Ferrari fire he adored was back in your own pretty doe eyes.

Or worse, the Barcelona one, you tease as you lead him to the kitchen to start making dinner. Scrolling through hundreds of posts and spiralling was calorie consuming work. I think Twitter would have shut down if they found out Max Verstappen likes being called daddy in the bedroom.

Your boyfriend’s face goes adorably pink as he stammers at your unexpected roast. Hey-hey now, schat, that was just one time okay? You’d just accidentally said it and it caught me off guard-

You grin playfully, giving him a kiss on the cheek because he looked too cute to resist. Sure, baby, so off guard you lasted 5 seconds after that. His face goes even pinker, reaching the tips of his ears now as he shyly looks away. For all his fierceness on the track, you loved how sweet the Dutch Lion was off it. Giggling, you put him out of his misery by handing him a knife and tell him to get to work chopping the tomatoes. You knew no matter what came your way, you would be fine with Max by your side.

—————————————————————————

A/N: okkk so what did u guys think at my first attempt at a social media AU ahaha. You know I love to yap I fear I included too many Twitter screenshots, I ALWAYS GET CARRIED AWAY. Anyway this was super fun pulled me right out of my writers block!!! Hope u enjoy xx

[tojirights]

I absolutely love your Alastor smut! Is there anyway you can make one where your Vox’s ex and Alastor decided to somehow show off to Vox how much reader loves his c*ck more?? A special broadcast maybe?? Please keep up the great work!

a/n: i love vox but if there's one thing i love more, its making him feel inferior to alastor 😍 this is soo good. REQUESTS OPEN! 🩷

tags: 18+ smut nsfw!

vox thought alastor couldn't get any worse, there was nothing that shit-for-brains demon could do to enrage him more. that was until valentino told him that alastor had a new pretty little thing hanging on his arm. "he WHAT?!" vox's voice cracks from the sheer force he puts behind those words. valentino snickers, watching vox run to his security room.

and there you were, locked arms with that fucking deer demon, walking down the street. you looked absolutely enthralled with that fucker! "you've gotta be fucking kidding me..." he growls, static filling his vision. as if alastor can sense that they're being watched, he winks at the camera and pulls you down a more secluded path. vox puts his fist straight through the screen before pacing around the room. it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before his ears pick up that voice, that shitty radio voice.

"good evening viewers!" alastor begins, making vox's head spin around. the tvs were blank, just audio playing through them. he's about to smash the rest of them when something catches his attention. he swears he hears a familiar noise, your noises specifically. then he hears you panting, and blood rushes to his groin first and then his face. "thank you for tuning into a very special late night broadcast." alastor's voice sounds... breathier.

"what the fuck is-" vox mutters to himself before his eyes go wide. "o-oh god." you moan, sounding far too sexy. and enjoying yourself far too much. "yes alastor, fuck. that's so good." your whines play out, filling the room and vox is just about to lose it. "is alastor fucking your ex?" valentino leans against the doorframe, a smug look on his face. "you’re so tight, my dear. your cunt was made for my cock just as i was made for radio." he laughs to himself, his hands finding your hips as he fucks you over his desk.

this little plan of his was working just as intended. he asked, of course, if you'd be interested in ruffling your exes feathers a little bit and you agreed. this special broadcast was only being shown directly to vox through his security. not a single other soul would be able to hear you but vox. it sent a certain chill up your spine, knowing that he was definitely listening. every thrust of alastor's cock presses you harder into the desk, bruises sure to form later in the evening.

"that's kinda hot, yknow-" "SHUT UP VAL." vox feels as though he's about to implode, anger coursing through him in a way he's sure he's never felt. "i am going to finish him. both of them. they won't live this down."

valentino covers his mouth to stop from laughing. "it sounds like they're about to finish each other." and he was right. your breathy little moans are a dead giveaway. "please, please your cock feels so good. g-gonna cum." vox paces the room, plotting your downfall but his cock is hard as a fucking rock in his pants.

"such a good girl, you are. you sing so pretty my dear." alastor grunts, pressing the head of his cock up against your cervix before he feels you clamp down around him. with every pulse of youe orgasm, alastor follows. "cum alastor, p-please fill my pussy." you gasp, riding out wave after wave of deep pleasure. vox should turn this off, he should walk away but he can't make his feet move.

and after alastor finishes deep inside of you, filling you to the point of it leaking down his cock, he lets out an almost sinister chuckle. "thank you my loyal viewers for tuning in for this one of a kind show! we hope you thoroughly enjoyed."

the room is silent after the broadcast ends. that is, until velvette clears her throat. "was that alastor fucking your bitch?" she raises a brow, a slow smirk spreading over her lips when she sees vox's face.

"no one talk to me. i have business to attend to." and with that, vox disappears, leaving valentino and velvette to themselves.

"bold move, i gotta hand it to him."

[rosenclaws]

ok, ok “suck on my fingers.” and “don’t make a mess, baby.” prompt with the worse wolverine? btw i love your words!!!

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, squirting, fingering, dirty talk, overstimulation, cum eating (kinda? i think thats whats this called idk he just sticks his fingers in ur mouth after fingering)

600 follower drabble masterlist

a/n: I'm gonna be so real I am coping hard rn. I am devastated and worried for the future but if writing wolverine smut is what helps that is what I shall do. I hope you like it!!

How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? Fuck at this point you'd believe that you've been here for days. Wrapped in his arms. Trapped under his adamantium bone and super human strength. The sheets slip through your fingers as your grip grows weaker. Logan has been teasing you, playing with you like a piece of meat.

Logan is upright against the headboard. He’s got your back against his chest. One of strong arms is keeping you upright. Forcing you to sit there. His other hand is shoved into your panties. He didn’t even bother to take them off.

There’s something playing on the TV in your room but you lost any sense of your surroundings about an hour ago. Logan likes to play with his food. Always has.

Your big hot boyfriend loves to make a mess of things before he eats.

“Oh Fuck Logannnn.” You whine as he slips two of his fingers into your already soaked cunt.

Your panties are soaked from Logan’s touch. He won’t even bother taking them off. He likes the obscene sight of his hands down them. Loves seeing his fingers disappear and watch your cute face scrunch up in pleasure.

You’re trying with all your might to squirm away. Not that you wanted him to stop but the pleasure was overwhelming. Your body was moving without your brain at this point. Pure instinct. Logan growls in your ear. Shoving another finger inside to shut you up.

“Quiet. I’m not done with you yet.” You tilt your neck to the side as Logan’s rough thumb starts to circle your clit harshly.

The sounds of your pleasure are loud and Logan is unashamedly eating them up. His fingers movie faster and faster. Pounding into you with a force that makes you scream. Your dripping down his hands and onto the sheets. Logan tuts and shakes his head mockingly.

“Don’t make a mess baby.” He scolds as he drives his fucking fingers deep inside of you. Fucking liar. He loves when you make a mess. Nothing boosts his ego more.

He feels so good. His fingers are tearing you apart. He’s hell bent on making you come harder than you ever have. He can never get enough. It's like a competition with himself. Making sure you know only he can do this to you over and over. A pressure builds deep in your core and your eyes widen when you feel a certain feeling.

“Logan wait I-“ Your pleas are silenced as another moan rips through your throat.

You chant his name over and over as your legs start to shake. Logan watches in awe as you squirt all over the bed. He doesn't let up as he pulls as much as he can. You're moaning only pushes him further. He's whispering dirty things in your ear but you can barely hear him. Your body is screaming in pure pleasure and its all you can hear.

"Too much." You manage to whimper out as Logan continues to fuck his fingers into you.

He hums and in a moment of mercy decides you've had enough for tonight. Such a good pet. His fingers are coated. He pulls them apart and smirks as he brings them to your lips.

“Come on, suck on my fingers." He coos as you lazily open your mouth. Your perfect pretty lips surrounding his fingers, sucking your own juices from his fingers.

"Taste yourself, see why I can't get enough of this delicious cunt." His eyes grow dark as he watches your lips take his fingers so easily. You look up with glossy eyes. Completely fucked out because of him.

"Cute." He presses a kiss to your forehead and pulls you closer. His fingers slip out of your mouth and he dips back down into your soaked underwear. You whine when he gently brushes over your sensitive clit.

"Shhh sweetheart," His moves are softer this time, gentle.

"Just relax. Let me get my taste too."

[sundrop-writes]

Need

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Daryl comes back from a run acting strangely needy, and you find out that Zach made him jealous. (You may have to thank Zach later.)

Or - Daryl fucks your brains out to prove to himself that you're his.

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. Set during early Season 4/The Prison Era.

Word Count: 3,000

The Walking Dead Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is mainly a smut fic - the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader and Daryl have a sexual relationship that skews slightly romantic; the reader's age is not at all specified; Daryl being very needy (hence the title); Daryl is more dominant the reader is more submissive, but there is no laid out rigid roles; Daryl is jealous and trying to 'claim' the reader after someone else makes sexual comments about her (when she is not around to hear those comments); mentions of Daryl drinking alcohol and smoking (does not take place during the fic, just a background element); some manhandling - from Daryl towards the reader (nothing unrealistic or beyond Daryl's known strength); oral sex - reader receiving (Daryl certified pussy eater); references to hunting/killing animals for food (come on, this is a Daryl fic); Daryl is slightly mean in this (he tells the reader to shut up) - but he's not vengeful or mean on purpose, he's just in a mood; spit kink - Daryl spits on the reader's pussy; pussy spanking (this was such a last minute addition and I am so glad I did); Daryl calls the reader 'woman'; overstimulation - towards reader; mention of the reader crying/having tears in her eyes (due to overstimulation); Daryl being very possessive due to his jealousy; hair-pulling - Daryl receiving; very slight anal play (Daryl tongues the reader's asshole - juust a bit); penis in vagina sex; unprotected sex - they don't use a condom and there are no mentions of other forms of birth control (don't be like them); there is no mention of Daryl cumming inside the reader, though because the fic ends before we get to his orgasm (sorry, Daryl); slight cockwarming; the sex gets rough toward the end; I believe that's it for this fic?

A/N: No, this was not the winner of the poll. But right now I am in a mindset for TWD fics because I have been watching the show and I think it's a good opportunity to get this one out of my drafts - especially because it's shorter and easier to edit. If it's not your thing, feel free to ignore it. Also, I am not doing a taglist for this one because a lot of people on the taglist last time did not follow my taglist rules (basically, they were tagged and they didn't show up to read the fic, so it feels like a 'why bother' type of situation). So I'm gonna clean out the taglist and after such a short time, I am considering quitting taglists altogether. Anyway, if you do read it, I hope you enjoy the fic.

...

Need. 

That was the only word you could use to describe Daryl in those moments as he threw you down onto the cot and ripped your pants off with record speed. The air was absolutely ripe with need, the likes of which you had never felt or seen from Daryl before. Especially not in this magnitude. 

Daryl Dixon was someone who rarely came off as needy. 

Since the two of you had started this relationship (it was strange to call it a ‘relationship’ when there was so little conventional romance to it, and so few words) - Daryl was never someone you would have described as ‘needy’. He was always the definition of calm. He was level-headed, quiet, reserved - even more so in the face of your intense needs. The more you became a puddle of melded need, when you boiled over into pure want, especially in his presence, the more he turned into a stone wall of uncrackable cold hardness that you wanted so desperately to see crack. 

It was a game the two of you had been playing since day one. And he hadn’t lost yet, not once. 

Of course, the sex was amazing - even if he never let that facade down. He made sure that your overwhelming, unhidden need always came first. He made sure that you had cum first - usually more than once - before he even considered sticking his cock inside of you or letting you drop to your knees in order to serve him. He was never selfish - a man that lived to serve, in fact. 

That was why it surprised you when he came back from a run that day and grabbed you by your arm, practically dragging you out to the admin block. It was a place that you and Daryl had set up a little nest for personal privacy in the old warden’s office. Daryl had chosen the location both for its privacy, and for the wonderful irony. 

He found it downright hilarious that he was someone who had been reprimanded by cops before the total collapse of society and had been nearly arrested half a dozen times (he liked to put the emphasis on nearly, because he was a fast runner and often disappeared into the woods where they didn’t care to chase him, in contrast to someone like Merle, who was a known drug dealer was of far more interest to them - and much slower). Daryl was someone who could have easily ended up in prison, and now he could sit behind a warden’s desk and smoke a stash of fancy cigars that he had found hidden, and he had polished off the fancy whiskey in between fucking you. 

And he took an even greater enjoyment in fucking you pinned against the warden’s desk - but for practical purposes, he had lugged a cot into the office and set up a more comfortable space for the two of you there. The two of you even slept there sometimes because he still refused to sleep ‘in a cage’ - as he put it. Everyone else in the prison liked to fake that they didn’t know where the two of you went, but really - they were just glad that your love nest was far enough away from everyone else that they didn’t have to be subjected to the sounds you and Daryl made. 

And you were glad that you didn’t have to pretend to go hunting in order to escape to the woods for some privacy. Especially because, even as capable as Daryl was, the threat of Walkers looming over your head while he fucked you did make it a bit difficult to get fully lost in the sensations. 

But all of that was far at the back of your mind while he shucked off his crossbow and tossed it aside carelessly (usually he was someone who was careful to put away his weapon, not wanting to damage it so that he wouldn’t have to waste precious time on repairs) - but today, there was something simply rabid about him. Something itching and impatient. 

You couldn’t deny that it turned you on, but you had to question what had caused the shift in him. Especially when all of your little games - your teasing, your flirting, your dirty words - hadn’t been able to crack him for months. 

“Daryl, what’s gotten into-?” 

You couldn’t even finish posing the question before he began ripping on the waistband of your pants once again. That tense irritability became potent in the air once again when the fabric got caught up in your boots, Daryl letting out a deep grunt and glaring at the obstacle. 

You reached for the laces in order to get everything off, thinking this was what he wanted, but he simply put two large, commanding, calloused hands on the backs of your thighs and shoved down - hard. He pinned you down to the cot with a tough force, something that made the metal of the supposedly temporary furniture squeal with a worrying sound. You almost didn’t hear it over the pitiful, whorish gasp that escaped your lips. 

He was never like this. He was never so desperate. 

You loved it. Your body was flooded by heat, equally as desperate within seconds. 

“Daryl!” You cried out, half confused, half hot red and turned on. 

Your cunt ached fiercely and clenched around nothing and Daryl locked eyes with that pulsing gash, letting out a pleased hum. There was barely a blink before he dove between his own hands, digging in his fingers in tightly where they held onto your quivering muscles and immediately he licked a long, hard stripe up the center of your pussy. 

Hungry. 

That was a word you would have used to describe Daryl many times before.

He was messy and shameless when he ate meals. You had seen him dig into game bloody and raw when he had taken you out hunting, when he was starving and impatient and truly treasured a fresh kill. 

Currently, that’s exactly what you felt like - a fresh kill, recently captured by him, a true prey animal under his grasp being absolutely devoured while you could do nothing more but lay there and take it. 

It felt utterly amazing. 

It felt like where you belonged. 

The room soon became filled with sounds - loud, adamant slurping as his tongue furiously worked over your cunt, creating the same kind of shameless slobber that he did when he was thoroughly enjoying a meal. Your gasps and moans shuddering through your lungs as the sensations rocked your body, the pitiful squeaking protests of the cot as Daryl leaned against you more, putting more weight on those rusting springs. 

He began moaning against your heated flesh while he continued to hold you down by your trembling thighs, and while your ears rang with blood and your face bloomed with heat, you soon realized that the distant, repeated keening sound you could hear - almost like a dying cat - was you. 

You were having difficulty catching your breath and you quickly became dizzy from the hot, heavy pleasure vibrating up your body from his tongue. Made even better by the feeling of his coarse beard rubbing against your sensitive pussy lips, and the deep vibrations of his moans against you. 

All you could do was tightly clutch onto the blanket you had used to make up the cot and buck your face against him, hoping for him to shove his tongue deep inside of you or put some more persistent attention on your needy, throbbing clit, rather than simply grazing against the sensitive organ with each pass, making you more and more needy - 

Daryl groaned into your cunt and then, much to your frustration, he pulled away completely. 

“Stop squirmin’.” He grunted at you, his voice a whole new shade of dark and lustful thick that you had never heard from him - one that made your whole body quiver. 

You let out a pathetic moan, more wetness gushing out of you. 

“Daryl, please-” 

“Shut up.” 

Somehow, him barking this rudely at you made you even wetter. 

You squeaked out another pathetic little sound, expecting that he would get back to devouring you like you were his last meal, seemingly for his own pleasure - but then, he managed to surprise you yet again. 

He used his hold on your thighs to spread your legs (as much as he could with your pants still tangling your ankles together). And then he pursed his lips and heaved a thick, heavy glob of spit onto you - aiming perfectly and causing it to land right on your sensitive, swollen clit. 

Just like his perfect mouth, it was hot and slick, and simply seeing the shiny bead come from his lips to land on you caused you to scream and buck against him like a cow being branded. Which is exactly what he had intended - for you to be branded by him, marked as his, fully owned by him. 

Hot tears of pleasure escaped your eyes and he locked right onto your gaze - even through the choppy dark curtain of his too-long bangs, his steel blue eyes pierced into your soul and the burning lust you saw there punched you in the gut. When he took one of his hands off your thigh, you didn’t have a moment to think about what he was going to do before he brought the heavy pads of his tough, well-worked fingers down onto your already sore clit and spanked you. 

Once, twice, three times - something he had done to you before, knowing exactly how hard to hit you without making it painful, just enough to jolt shocking pleasure through your body and make you sob. 

“Listen, woman.” 

He ground his voice again, lowly, making you shiver when he leaned in and gripped your face with that now wet hand, forcing you to face forward and pay attention to him. You stared at him through tear-misty eyes, absolutely enraptured and lustful, wanting nothing more than him. 

“This is mine.” He growled these words with quiet power, driving his point home with another smack to your cunt that had you crying out and seizing against the touch. 

“Yours.” You chirped back, eager to affirm it, your brain filled with nothing but him. “Yours, all yours. Daryl-” 

Before you could babble out any more affirmations, he took an even tighter, possessive, bruising death grip on you once again. One hand on your hip and the other on your thigh - trying to keep you right where he wanted you as he dove back in, just as hungry. This time he gave into exactly what you wanted, seemingly because your words had been what he wanted. He knew you all too well even without words, and he latched his mouth around your mound with intent, laving his tongue furiously across your clit without relenting. 

You weren’t sure which was worse - the teasing, or him tongue-fucking your clit like he was trying to drive you insane. 

Your hand flew to his hair with the intention of shoving him off as white hot sparks of overstimulated pleasure-pain flew up through your gut, but your muscles curled instinctively and you wove a tight grip into his locks without thinking. Unintentionally drawing him closer and locking him in place as you gurgled out cries of wounded pleasure and he continued to moan against you, almost making your poor clit numb. 

But of course, being as perfect at this as he was with everything else, he drew an orgasm out of you just as he wanted to. 

“Daryl! Fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m - ah!” 

He moaned against you in pure pleasure as it happened, and then he retreated down your pulsing hole to lick up every single bit of your wetness as it freshly flowed out of you. He continued to moan, slurping and flexing his tongue so he wouldn’t miss a drop, eating you like the finest delicacy he had ever experienced. His tongue even strayed down your perineum, dipping into your other hole a bit, clearly unafraid and never shy, not wanting to miss a single bit of your taste. 

You were left panting, desperate to catch your breath, and with your brain still completely out of commission, he stood up, his mind already on an entirely new track. You couldn’t contain your whine of disappointment when all of his warmth was suddenly gone, even his hands losing contact with your thrumming skin. 

“Daryl-?” 

You didn’t have long to question it before you heard the sound of a zipper. 

Not even knowing when you had closed your eyes, you whipped them open to see him shoving his pants down to mid-thigh and pumping his cock in hand a few stray times before he stepped toward you. You weren’t the biggest fan of the ‘bent in half like a pretzel’ position, as your back was starting to ache slightly, but he took the look of pure hunger in your eyes was all the consent he needed (especially with the way your gaze was focused on his cock, the slight glisten of precum beading at the tip). 

He was secure in knowing that you would stop him or tell him no if you needed to. 

And there were absolutely no thoughts of stopping on your mind when he put a hand back on your hip and used the other hand to guide his cock into you, sinking deep inside of your slicked, hot cunt in one smooth movement. 

Fuck - he always filled you up so fucking good. 

“Dar-” 

“All fuckin’ day.” Daryl growled out, tight through his teeth, taking only a single moment before he began to pump his hips forward, fucking into you. 

He wasn’t quite as furious as before, his pace slower now. Seemingly, he had gotten some of that pure need out of his system by eating your pussy. He began to thrust in and out of you at a leisurely pace, making you feel comfortably, pleasantly full. 

“All fuckin’ day, I had to listen to Zach’s goddamn yappin’.” 

Your brain was slowly coming back into function. 

He had gone on the run with Zach and Sasha. 

You thought Daryl liked Zach? 

Surprisingly, Daryl then reached for your shoes and began undoing the laces - perhaps now finally interested in getting your pants and shoes out of the way. You just laid back and let him do whatever he pleased, your cunt flashing with a warm, pleasant feeling - simply enjoying that it was Daryl fucking you. 

“Had to listen to that little smart-mouthed fuckin’ asshole-” 

Daryl let out another grunt, smacking his hips into yours particularly hard, causing you to let out a gasp. He took off one of your shoes and dropped it to the ground. 

“Had to listen to him go on and on about you.” 

What? 

Then went the other shoe. 

Your jeans followed soon after, easily untangled from your legs by Daryl’s deft fingers, making your legs free up to spread widely, inviting him in further - he laid himself down against your body, and you found your muscles much less stiff with your knees bracketing around his waist. There was another moment of comfortable fullness - stillness, as he laid there, nosing at your neck, seemingly enjoying your scent with deep breaths. 

You ran your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp in a way you knew he liked, boiling over with curiosity until the question leapt out of you. 

“What happened with Zach?” You had to ask, still slightly fuck-dumb and confused. 

You didn’t know it, but hearing the name come off your lips was enough to trigger another intense wave of that feeling in Daryl. The jealousy, the neediness, the urge to claim you. 

Daryl let out another harsh growl - a sound coming from him that made your pussy leak around him and clench down hard on his cock. He grabbed both your hands and entwined your fingers with his - a fierce, demanding grip rather than a romantic one. He kept you pinned in place, right where he wanted you, and he began fucking his hips into you at a fast, hard pace that was enough to push a scream right from your lungs. 

“He - would-n’t - shut - the - fuck - up.” Daryl grunted in your ear, emphasizing each sharp syllable with a deep, harsh pounding of his hips into your pussy. “About you.” He whispered those words lowly, dangerously into your ear. 

“Daryl-” You gasped, your whole body dizzy and vibrating with that electricity once again. 

“About your ass-” 

He reached down and grabbed your ass - harsh, digging his fingers into the flesh with a possessive touch that made you cry out. He hammered his hips forward and used that touch to drag you toward his cock, fucking you onto him like a fleshlight for a few moments before he continued speaking. 

“About your tits-” 

He reached up and groped your breasts aggressively through your shirt, popping one of the tiny decorative buttons. A wreckage that would only serve to show off more cleavage in the end. Your nipples instantly became stiff under his touch and you arched into his hands - only for the rough, wonderful feeling to be gone too soon. 

“Daryl,” 

“He wouldn’t stop talkin’ bout what you might look like when you cum.” He growled out. “When he ain’t never gonna get to know.” 

It was thrilling, him being so possessive of you now. But you knew that it was so Daryl. Him being angry at Zach for speaking about you in a vulgar way, but holding his tongue - not speaking up then because he wanted to keep your relationship private, didn’t want to claim you in front of someone publicly. 

Or he simply kept his mouth shut because he didn’t want to lose his temper when they had a job to do. 

“He wouldn’t stop-” 

“Please, I’m yours.” You moaned out, grinding your hips into him desperately, needy for his full and focused attention. 

As much as you enjoyed the jealousy streak that had started this heated encountered, you needed Daryl to focus on you now - not on the words of some petty boy who had either been trying to rile Daryl up or didn’t even know the two of you were together because of the lack of PDA in your relationship. 

“Daryl, please. I’m yours.” 

“Tha’s right,” Daryl growled out, his voice dangerously low. “You’re mine.” 

He leaned tightly over you once again, and when his hips picked up speed - you were done for.

...

A/N: Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot, and there will not be a continuation or a 'Part 2'. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has already been written. If you like this and you want to see more of my fics in my style, you can check out my most recent fic Heaven's Gate, which is also a Daryl Dixon x Reader fic, or you can check out my other TWD works on AO3.

[pedrospatch]

flutter

Jackson! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader

snapshots masterlist

summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.

“Shit.”

You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?

Over the last few months, there’d been changes.

Some subtle and some not so subtle.

“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”

She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.

“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”

During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.

“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”

You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.

One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.

Not until now.

“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”

“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”

“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”

Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.

It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.

“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.

Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.

After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.

He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.

You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.

Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”

“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”

One stern glare from her had shut you right up.

“Fine.”

Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.

You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.

With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.

“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”

“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”

“You’re bigger!”

With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”

She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.

“You look different. I mean, you look great—”

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up and eat.”

“Deal.”

She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner. 

“You get your fractions homework done?”

“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”

Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”

“Sure.”

As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.

“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.

“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”

“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.

Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.

She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”

Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”

“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”

“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”

“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”

Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.

Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.

And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.

In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.

You bite back a small sigh.

By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.

“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”

“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”

You hear a chair scrape against the tile.

“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”

“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.

Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.

He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair. 

The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.

Uncomfortable.

Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.

“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”

“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?” 

He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”

You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”

Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.

“Mhm,” is all he says.

Your smile falters.

It’s the middle of August.

The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.

“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”

He’s met with silence.

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”

Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”

“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”

Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.

“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”

Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”

“Huh?”

“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”

Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”

“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”

“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten. 

“What are you afraid of?”

Joel almost laughs.

He doesn’t know where to start.

He’s afraid of everything.

“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”

“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”

“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”

“Joel—”

“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”

Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”

“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.

“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”

He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”

“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home. 

“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.

“What does it fucking look like, man?”

“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”

Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.

“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”

Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.

He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.

He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.

He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.

Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.

Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.

He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.

The man you both needed.

Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?

He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.

“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”

“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.

Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Until the minutes turn into hours.

Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains. 

Until he finally feels that little flutter again.

He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.

He’d just felt the baby’s movement.

There’s a sudden shift.

Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.

His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.

Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.

With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.

Maybe his brother’s right.

Maybe he will be just fine.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

[bananayuyu]

Making a Mess

Pairing: Mingi x f reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: Being on stage makes Mingi really, really horny. Luckily you're backstage to help him out.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, public sex, unprotected sex, bodily fluids making a mess on the floor...

A/n: Heard an audio on here today and well... my brain started working overtime. I need him to destroy me. My bestie challenged me to write something short finally 😭 hope you enjoy! <3

I wrote a part 2/expansion of this story called Cleaning Up which you can read here!

<^><^><^><^><^><^>

Being on stage always had an affect on Mingi, one visceral and tangible, obvious even to fans with a keen eye. The lights, the production, the sea of screaming people chanting his name, it all riled him up more than anything. Staring out at the massive arena, the music deafening loud as he rapped through ragged breaths, his nerves were on fire. Exiting the stage he ripped off his jacket, lumbering quickly towards the changing rooms on his way to find you.

You, his companion on tours. His close... friend? Not really. No one asked questions, least of all you two. But you knew why you were here, why he needed you patiently waiting with the rest of the staff, ready to help him at a moment's notice.

"Y/n," Mingi huffs as he busts through the door, his lungs heaving from the heat he's feeling, his makeup making his eyes look dark and demanding. A small smile sneaks onto your lips as you rise, following him out into the hall, a sprinkling of random people wandering past you at varying speeds. You've both been in this arena a few times before, and you know exactly where he's taking you. He's got about seven minutes before he needs to be back onstage again, so it can't be too far. Not that either of you are thinking about that right now. You duck down another small hallway and then his hands are on you, pushing you against the wall by your hips, his open mouth colliding with yours as you both sigh in anticipation, tongues roaming each other's mouths. You can hear a pair of shoes squeaking down the perpendicular hallway, a small golf cart running by somewhere in the distance. You're not really covered here but it doesn't matter. It only adds to everything.

Mingi pulls back with a nip to your lower lip, burying his face in your neck as he snakes his hands underneath your shirt, squeezing over your entire body while biting down, marking you just like he did a few days prior, where a small yellow bruise is still healing. A small yelp escapes your lips at the pain, your entire body buzzing with pleasure as he so aggressively plays with you, making your knees weak. Not wanting you to fall he moves to grab your waist, lifting you up the wall as you wrap your legs around his hips to anchor yourself. At this angle you can feel how hard he is, just like everyone saw moments ago on the big screen.

"Was it a good set?" you ask breathlessly, your faces only inches apart.

"Fuck yeah," he responds before kissing you again, a hand coming to rest behind your head as he pushes into your mouth even further, reveling in the feeling of your warm tongue on his. "Fuck I needed this," he groans, his other hand gripping your hip to help support you, his hips grinding into yours as he tastes your sweet lipgloss, your perfect eyes shut in pleasure as he digs his hand into your soft flesh. Soon he's unbuttoning his pants, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders as he holds you up with just his hips. He's unzipping hastily, desperately grabbing at his cock to free it, squeezing his shaft as he lines himself up with you. Your exercise shorts are just loose enough, with no underwear underneath of course, for him to push them to the side and reveal your soaking cunt, your body getting worked up long before he came and got you. Shakily he lines himself up with your entrance, his blood pumping through him so fast as he slowly pushes in, the stretch immaculate.

"Fuck, Mingi," you whisper, shocked every time by how big he is, how good it feels. Slowly he starts rocking his hips into yours, your wet pussy making lewd noises echo down the hallway. Moving his hands back to your hips Mingi lifts you just a bit higher, giving him the perfect angle to start fucking you hard, the wet noises replaced by the slapping of skin, over and over and over.

"How are you always so wet?" he groans in your ear, his mouth nipping at your lobe and making you whimper. Pulling back he watches your face from just inches away, loving the way your brows are scrunched up and your mouth hangs open as you try not to moan too loud. Your body bounces with the force of his thrusts, your hands still anchoring on his shoulders as he pounds into you even harder, his grip on your hips so strong it will surely leave bruises. Your pussy clenches down on him as he hits your cervix repeatedly, ripping little orgasms out of you over and over, your legs shaky as you hold onto his hips for dear life.

"God, you drive me fucking- fuck- crazy," he whispers in your ear, his cock throbbing from the feeling of your wet walls squeezing down on him. "You cum so fast on my cock," he groans, his head spinning as his climax quickly approaches. You've already fallen over the edge multiple times, your body shaking hard now as you just try to hang on, unable to respond to him as you keep yourself from screaming into the open hall. He's absolutely ravishing you, his movements sloppy as he chases his pleasure, your wetness dripping down onto his pants, the floor. Suddenly his orgasm washes over him, his hips stuttering before coming flush with yours, as he shoots deep inside you, his cum filling you with warmth. It's a lot, too much for your pussy to contain, and small amounts start dribbling out of you already, even with his cock still buried inside you.

"Fuck, what would I do without you," he sighs into your hair, kissing your forehead before moving to your lips. He moves his hands around your back, pulling you up towards him in an embrace as you breathe hard. Your arms rag doll down to your sides as you sigh, your head resting heavy on Mingi's shoulder, and he chuckles. "You good?" he whispers, and you nod your head in response. You nuzzle your face into his neck more, making him pause for just a moment, letting a bit of time pass with you both still entangled.

And then it's finally time for him to slowly pull you off of him, both of you watching as the rest of his cum drips out, down your legs and onto the floor, leaving a small puddle. There's a smirk on his face but your cheeks are bright red with embarrassment, even if this wasn't the first time that's happened. For a brief moment his chest tightens, knowing that you find it a bit mortifying letting him have you so publicly. It's all so hot and so shameful all at once, making you quiet and shy, and with your eyes on the ground your hand on his arm is the only sign that you're still wanting him next to you.

"Come on," he says, helping you start to move the rest of the way down this small hall that had a bathroom at the end of it. This really was the perfect arena for this, given the out-of-the-way private bathroom. You wish all of the arenas they toured had this set up. Your legs wobble as you make your way down, Mingi's hold the only thing from preventing you from falling. And then you're finally there by the door, about to swing it shut when he gently grabs your shoulder turning you around. His eyes are swimming with satisfaction as your face meets his, and he leans down to pull you into a kiss again, this time sweet and gentle.

"Mingi, get your ass back here!" you hear a voice scream from down the hall, the sound sharp from ricocheting off the brick walls. And just like that he's gone down the hallway, running on somewhat shaky legs of his own. But not before planting one final kiss on your nose, making your stomach light with butterflies, your core clenching from the sweetness.

[2knightt]

Do you think u could write abt the gang being (separately) absolutely obsessed with the reader. Like they adore everything she does, they can’t get enough of her. To the point where the rest of the gang starts releasing them abt it, meanwhile reader is like completely oblivious lol

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ heaven and hell were words to me.⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH! the greasers are totally obsessed!

tags/warnings: no confessions—just the gang having a crush, gang being literally whipped, them being a little odd, kinda toxic!johnny LFMAO, nothing else to my knowledge

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ i’m just working…working hard so i can please you.(shout out to ema/corvyes/loml for that ref.) but if i get a req asking me for like the gng confessing to you—i will do it. trust.

Dallas Winston

WHEN HE’S DRUNK, YOU’RE ALLLL HE TALKS ABOUT LMFAOOOO

“i’m tellin’ you—there ain’t a girl like her.”

dallas would repeat after what felt like this 5th drink of the night. buck is sick of him, two-bit regrets dragging him along, and dallas just wants to tell them how good you looked today.

when he sees you walking home, to school, or to work he WILL tag along. HE DOESN’T GAF IF YOU TELL HIM TO TAKE A HIKE!

actually, he kinda does. you’re like the only person he listens to.

LMFAOOO THE GANG THREATENS TO CALL YOU OVER WHENEVER DALLAS IS DOING SMTH STUPID

like whenever you threaten a kid ur gna tell santa.

“dallas, i’m gonna tell y/n what you did last week.”

“??if you do, i’ll beat your head in, soda.”

“YIKES..i’m gonna have to tell her that too…”

“…don’t, she’d be so mad at me😔😒.”

THE GANG TEASES DALLAS THE WORST(besides ponyboy) ABOUT YOU LFNAOAOAOAO

like they’re shoving him toward you, nudging him at even the slightest mention of you, giggling as they tell him they seen you today.

“look, it’s your girlfriend.”

“steve, shut up! she ain’t deaf!”

—

“GO SEE HER!”

“OW—i mean—hi, y/n.”

“did you…trip? or did you mean to bump into me?”

“yeah, sorry or whatever. some IDIOT back there pushed me.”

—

“guess who i saw..🥰🥰”

“who?”

“your wife…”

“can you NOT.”

despite all that, you somehow, still don’t know how he feels about you. how? we’ll never know. it’s beyond the human mind.

his friends try and hint at you that the big, bad greaser has a school girl crush on you. do you get what they’re trying to say? no. but that’s okay, you’re just a girl.

lowkey pisses dallas off but that’s okay cuz he prefers admiring from afar. DOES HOWEVER ASK YOU TO HANG OUT AND CONSIDERS THEM A DATE IN HIS HEAD TO KEEP HIM SANE LFMAO

“you wanna go see this drag race tomorrow?”

“sure! i don’t have work then. uhm, pick me up at my place!”

“alright, cool.”

‘yeah..,it’s date🥱😍’ — dallas’ brain.

Johnny Cade

‘johnny, if you even fucking stutter when you talk to her today—you’re gonna have to drink pickle juice.’

“oh, hi. i didn’t see you there, johnny. ‘m sorry.”

“o-oh—it’s alright.”

‘well, shit.”

he thinks he looks like such a fucking loser when he talks to you omfg😭😭

the gang tries to tell him he might have a shot but he thinks they’re just telling him that because he’s their friend. :(

HEAVILY admires from afar. like seriously he’s a fucking stalker

WAIT LMFOAOO HE’D BE THE TYPE OF GUY TO ACCIDENTALLY STALK YOU LIKE HE’D FOLLOW YOU PLACES FROM AFAR LMFAOAOAOOAOA

what a little freak

anyways

he accidentally lets things slip to let you know he’s better than any other guy trying to go after you. like if you had a shitty ex—he’s preaching that he’d ‘never treat you like that, he can’t imagine that a guy with a brain ever would.’

johnny does everything to keep your attention on HIM and nobody else when your friends try and talk to you when you two are out together. like you could be having a conversation with him and he’d be just pouting in the background with his arms crossed.

“y/n, look. they got that shirt you was talkin’ ‘bout. let’s go check it out. c’mon.” “oh—alright! bye, viv!😊” “yeah, bye viv.😒”

side eyes the gang whenever they bring you up in conversation

“johnny and y/n sittin’ in a tree—“

“😒🤨”

“alright.”

he tries to subtly hint that he really likes you and that you’re his type but it’s not subtle at ALL.

“y’know, if i were to have a girlfriend, i’d wish she was like you.”

—

“my type? uhm, it’d probably be someone-“ and he goes on to describe you.

Ponyboy Curtis

‘holy fuck that’s literally y/n walking towards me??!! does she know i’m here—does she even know me-wow she looks good in red. i mean—SHE’S WAVING OH MY GOD.’

HE IS SUCH A WRECK I CANTTT

ponyboy is the type to stare off into space in your direction and dream about how well he’d treat you if he was your man!!

yk how bitches be like ‘my man, my man!’ whenever they talk about their crush?? he’s all ‘my girl, my girl!’ WUAGRMRNEE

the gang was so confused on why he was so eager to go to school all of a sudden?? and why he cares about his appearance just slightly more than usual?? …is that soda’s shirt he’s wearing?-

two-bit was the first one to realize what was happening when he seen ponyboy and you talk in the halls. that wasn’t the giveaway, though.

it was the way he stared at you like you were the only girl alive and everyone else was just gone. two-bit was almost moved to tears to see ponyboy all grown😞😞!!!

“is tha’ your girlfriend? that why you couldn’t wait ‘til monday?”

“shut up!”

“ouuu, wait until the gang hears ‘bout this!”

“YOU AIN’T TELLIN’ ‘EM NOTHIN’!”

ever since — it has been hell on earth for ponyboy. dallas brings you up every time ponyboy gets smart, johnny giggles at every kissing scene at a movie nudges him, soda and darry had to give him ‘the talk,’ (soda just made it worse by making snide remarks.) and steve never stopped poking fun at him.

two-bit tried to get you to spill the beans on how you felt about him, but all you’d do was huff and ignore him. FINE THEN😒!—is what he always thought.

soda, johnny and two-bit all let ponyboy rant about you.

“LIKE, BRO. my girl, my girl! she’s so cute and smart. LIKE SHE’S TOTALLY MY DREAM.”

—

“that’s so cute ☹️” - soda

“SHE WANTS YOU SOO BAD” - two-bit

“just go tell her, man.” - johnny

does everything to impress you stoppp 😭😭!! pony is trying harder in school, using less hair grease, wearing darry’s cheap cologne when he’s not looking, etc.

HE’S SO SILLY I LOVE HIM!!!

Sodapop Curtis

delusional king!!! yes soda, let the voices in your head tell you that she wants you so bad!!���🫶

swear to goddd he thinks y’all are meant to be. you tipped him when he was working at the cash register and he was sooo in love

sorry in my head he’s a hopeless romantic

cause a) you were gorgeous, b) kind enough to tip him, and c) most likely rich💯💯

when he seen you at random places with your friends—soda would get so excited LMFAOOO

STOP HE’D HOUND PONY FOR YOUR NAME

“bro they probably go to your school—just lemme look at your yearbook!”

“no??? you weirdo???”

“please??!! i’ll do the dishes or something!”

“….get me a pack of cigarettes and i’ll tell you.”

“OKAY🥰🥰”

stole them but pony never said how to get them so who gaf!!!

SODA WOULD TOTALLY WRITE YOUR FIRST INITAL + HIS LMFAOOAOAOAOAA

or he’d see who’s last name went best with curtis or your last name!!!1!1!1

he’s crazy insane over you did i say that already

whenever you come by the dx—he’d give you shit for free while you insist to pay.

“jus’ take it.”

“i can’t—i’d feel terrible.”

“it’s alright, no one has to know. right?”

he’d flash his million dollar smile, pushing your coke and chips close to you, inciting you to just take the food.

WAJENEDKD he wants u so bad it’s. so terrible.

steve hates his rambles

“YOU SHOULDA SEEN THE WAY ME AND HER WAS TALKING—SHE’S SO INTO MEEEE”

“yeah, she wants you!!! shut up now!!”

Darry Curtis

nobody knows. it’s like a top secret only darry knows. the gang has their suspicions but they can never really know why darry is suddenly so adamant on going to go get him, soda, and pony’s hair done at the salon.

they alllll can see that he only really talks to you—but at the same time he does that weird ass dad stance where they stand with their arms crossed and legs far apart LMFAOOOOO

darry thinks you’re like…model fine btw.!!!!!

BROOO WHEN YOU LIKE UNCONSCIOUSLY MASSAGE HIS HEAD WHEN YOURE CUTTING IT—HE’S SOO READY TO JUST ASK YOU OUT

darry doesn’t know what it is but goddamn!! you have him in a spell!!

“c’mon—we gotta go to the salon again.”

“….we just went?”

“TWO WEEKS AGO. it’s about time we go AGAIN.”

does in fact work a little extra just so he can see you. he’s that much of a loverboy i fear.

HE DOES ACTUALLY NOT WAIT TO ASK YOU OUT

like, among all the gang, he’s the only one mature enough to actually flirt with you properly & to ask if you’re single.

darry’s fucking down like that.

AWWHHH HE TOTALLY BUYS YOU FLOWERS AS A ‘THANK YOU’ GIFT LOL

flexs his strength around you to prove he’s worthy !!! DARRY LOVEEESSS SHOWING OFF WHEN YOU’RE LOOKING

megara + hercules methink…..

you two probably started hanging out as ‘friends.’ …yeah right!!!!

he’s driving you around as you be his pretty little passenger princess, he’s offering to buy you things when you two are out, etc, etc.

darry might not know how to show that he likes you, but trust me, the second that you look a little too far into his actions—it gets obvious.

like maybe too obvious idk.

Steve Randle

HELLLOOOO??? HE IS TOTALLY SHOWING OFF HIS GYMNASTICS MOVES AROUND YOU

“bro, bro! (yes he’d call you bro. idgaf.) watch what i can do!!😊😊” “wowwww, steve that’s so cool.”

geeks out near you. when you aren’t around the average person would see him and go ‘jesus christ, he literally might beat my ass.’ but when you’re around, they might think, ‘why is that scary looking guy talking about cars and comic books rn??’

you bring out the nerd in him in the best way possible🫶😊 BECAUSE THAT MEANS HE LIKE LIKES YOUUUUUUU

and it’s so obvious to the gang bc wdym steve told you all about DC comics while all they got was a ‘yeah, it’s alright.’ …hm…..

soda NEVER shuts the fuck up and him and his little girlfriend. NEVERRREE

“why’re you so pouty today? y/n ain’t say hi?”

“bro, shut up!”

steals for you and gives them to you all proud like he paid for it LMFAO

tries to be sooo cool around you but the second you bring up the latest batman comic he’s all “OMGOMGOMGOMG IT WAS SOO GOOD!! DID YOU SEE THE-“ he’s a loser what can i say.

dallas totally flirts with you in front of steve just to piss him off LOLLL like when he sees dallas twirling your hair around his finger steve is just all “???🤨🤨😡😡”

and then becomes your knight in shining armour and swoops you away as he glares daggers at dally!!!!<3

Two-bit Mathews

he becomes the funniest man on the planet i’m not joking

he says jokes that anybody and everybody will laugh at. just because he wants to see you laugh at what he says for his delusions

two-bit thinks like ‘she laugh=she likes me’

he’s not the brightest but it’s okay

HE MAKES IT SOOO KNOWN THAT HE LIKES YOU LFMAOOOOOO

“you’re lookin’ pretty? who’s the fella?” / “gee, i didn’t believe when they said they seen an angel walkin’ around until now.” / “well, now you owe me dinner.”

shit like that

two thinks he’s soooo smooth…smh.

DALLAS AND PONYBOY SO BADLY WANTS HIM SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY ABOUT YOU LMFAOOO

they keep on telling him just to confess already but then two gets all giggly and shy and goes “omg guys noooo🤭🤭🤭🫣🫣”

just coincidentally runs into you everywhere you go!!! (literally has eyes everywhere. he’s weird. he’s odd.)

follows you around like a lost puppy and lowkey kinda gossips. idk.

[bunnyrafe]

i need to smoke with stoner!rafe oh my god 😭😭😭 both of us high and horny that’s the dream

here’s the deal— i genuinely blacked out while writing this so apologies if it's all over the place. anyway, stoner!rafe is a bit of a fuckboy and also so mean sometimes… so basically just regular rafe but make him a burnout !!! toodles xoxo

content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. stoner!rafe AU. f!reader, a touch of crybaby!reader, drug use, male masturbation, mentions of f. receiving oral / fingering, cum eating.

it always starts the same— rafe calls and practically begs you to come over no matter what you may be up to, and then he's rolling up a blunt within twenty minutes of you being at his place.

you'd be stupid to turn down a free smoke session, but you know what he's doing. you know his game, and you've been playing along with him for quite some time now. you wonder how many girls are on his roster. how many of them probably stay the night and go to sleep tucked in his arms and adorned in one of his hoodies just like you do...

"you're doin' that thing again," rafe grumbles before pulling a hit from the blunt, inhaling with a sharp sound and watching you pluck it from between his deft fingers.

your feet are resting in his lap while his large hand rubs up and down your legs, clearly savoring the feeling of your smooth skin against his palm. with each leisurely pass, his hand gets higher and higher up your plush thighs. his fingers could creep right into your shorts, and you wish he would just go for it because your cunt has been throbbing in your panties from the moment you saw him close the seam of the blunt with his tongue.

"doing what?" you ask rather dumbly as you come to your senses.

you barely recognize your own voice and you can’t help but wonder where the fuck rafe even managed to get weed this good.

"getting lost in your head—" he snorts, "is it the weed? can't keep up with me anymore?"

you roll your eyes, exhaling your last hit. seconds before your lips part to speak once again, “shut the fuck up.”

rafe grabs your face. the tips of his fingers dig into the pudge of your cheeks, almost making you whimper in pain but it's quickly numbed out thanks to the drugs in your system. his eyes flicker to your jutted lips, shaking your face that's in his grip— “you should watch that pretty mouth of yours…”

"or what?" you blubber out.

your famous last words.

you can barely remember how rafe managed to get you on your knees. your whole body is buzzing. from your lips to the soles of your feet, all while your knees ache as they press into the floor. you blink slow, watching rafe get his heavy cock out.

he squeezes his fist around his length and the tip nearly drools pre-cum all over his hoodie before he strokes himself slowly. the way your eyes follow the movement is nothing short of pathetic. along with the saliva that pools in your mouth— so eager to get another taste of him after so long.

“‘m not even sure if you deserve to have your throat fucked,” rafe huffs out. his voice has a rasp to it, the kind that sets off a fever in your already melting brain, “seems like more of a reward for nasty girls like you, hm?”

at that, you smush your face against his thigh, putting on your best pout. you don’t have to try very hard— “please, rafey…”

“nah— you’re gonna watch me get m’self off, and maybe if you’re good you’ll get somethin’ from me.”

you’re crushed. your eyes well up with tears, your tiny voice gets caught up in your throat, and you sniffle so loudly that rafe laughs down at you— he continues on, jerking himself off in the process. a groan crawls up his throat between his words, making your heart beat faster in both your chest and your cunt as he drawls on between puffy breaths. his heavy-lidded eyes trail down your trembling form, watching your thighs squeeze together, “bet that lil’ pussy’s so needy, too… coulda ate you out for hours if you jus’ watched your mouth.”

in the back of your mind you know he’ll take care of you later.

he’ll probably put on one of your favorite movies and finger you until you’re squealing and creaming in his lap as an apology for being so mean, but you can’t say that you’re hating it.

especially when he’s panting and whining about how he’s gonna cum a few moments later, right over your heated face. he’s so wound up just from watching you be needy for him, watching you cry and whine over not having his cock brutalizing your throat. and when he commands you to open your mouth so he can shoot his load on the soft, pink pad of your tongue you don’t hesitate for a single second, proving that you can be good for him…

“that’s a good fuckin’ girl,” he practically snarls the words out, milking every last drop out of his cock with a firm grip and sloppy strokes.

you mewl happily, reveling in both the praise and the taste of him.

yeah— you can’t be too upset.

[rafesangelita]

hi angel! i love your work so much and fell in love with bambi!reader, so i was hoping you could write something for me ^_^

can you pls pls pls write bambi!reader comforting rafe after he gets into it with ward? i feel like she’d know exactly how to comfort himmm (pure fluff pls, i read too much smut lmaooo)

warnings: ward cameron, arguing, shouting, a little bit of physical violence, poor rafe who deserves so much better, mention of murder (i’m not referencing peterkin), fluff, soft petting, words of affirmation

a/n: aww bambi!reader has been getting so much love, it makes my heart happy to know that you enjoy the works that she’s in <3

“you had one job, rafe.. one!” ward had been shouting at rafe for nearly an hour already, his face flush with anger. “you really have a way of fucking things up, huh? i should put a caution sign on your forehead.” rafe’s fist clenched as he listened to his father, trying his best to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest with every word that ward spat.

“i already told you that i couldn’t close out the business accounts and wire the money to a different one. apparently i’m not next in line to own cameron development anymore. ‘you know something about that?” rafe was in disbelief when he had to find out from a service representative that his own father took him off of the family business, something that he worked hard all these years for in order to prove he was worthy of running.

ward froze. he had forgotten about that. “were you ever gonna tell me, or were you just gonna be a coward about it?” rafe stood up, towering over his father with that crazy look in his eyes. “what you forgot to do before you faked your own death instead of facing your problems like a man, was take my name off of the inheritance of tanneyhill.” he laughed, “i own this shit now.” rafe stepped closer, backing ward into the wall. “get out of my house.” ward was seething, his hand coming up to fist rafe’s shirt.

“your house? i’m the one who worked like a dog to get us here.” ward said through gritted teeth, shoving rafe in his chest. rafe stumbled, scoffing out a laugh as he then pushed his father. “worked like a dog to get us here but you were more than willing to leave me here while you start a new life in fuckin’ guadeloupe.” rafe fought to keep his emotions at bay.

“leave. and don’t ever come back.” ward’s chest was rising and falling, both him and rafe glaring at one another. “you’re cut off. good luck keeping up with this place on your own.” ward smiled bitterly. “cut off?” rafe narrowed his eyes, “i’ve been cut off, dad. i haven’t used a cent of yours since i was nineteen. all this time i’ve been making money my own way, and a lot of it too. ‘seems like your old man brain forgot about that.” rafe nudged ward as he walked past, his father following him out of the master bedroom.

“i’m leaving. when i come back i want you out of here,” rafe grabbed his truck keys, his skin on fire as he looked up the staircase, “and by the way, asshole, i’m not by myself. i got the prettiest girl on the island on my arm everywhere i go.” ward watched as his son walked out the front door. rafe was seeing red the whole time he drove to your house, cursing under his breath as he recalled his father’s words.

“the fucking nerve that guy has.” he punched the steering wheel, nostrils flaring as tears pricked at his eyes. he was the only one who was there to take care of things when ward was ‘gone’. even going as far as committing crimes so his father wouldn’t face any kind of scrutiny. yet, there he was telling him that he was a fuck up.

rafe spent the next five minutes mumbling to himself, his hands shaking as he parked outside your driveway. you were curled up on the porch swing, an open book in your lap when he walked up the stone path. all it took was one look at your boyfriend to have you scrambling up from your seat, eager to soothe him in any way you can. “oh, ray, what’s wrong?” you guided him inside, locking the door shut before both of you made your way up to your room.

“it’s ward. he came back just to tell me shit about not closing the bank accounts under cameron development.” you knew all about rafe’s conflict with his father. from the way he favored everyone else over his eldest, to the constant nagging and insults. sitting rafe down on the edge of your bed, you couldn’t help the way your heart sunk at the sight of defeat in his shoulders, his eyes void of any emotion.

slipping his shoes off, you took your usual seat in his lap, stroking the outline of his jaw as he vented. “i’ll never be good enough for him. i killed for him goddamit, and what do i get in return? ‘i should put a caution sign on your forehead.’ rafe imitated ward’s voice from earlier. you blinked, pecking his cheek. “you’re an amazing son, rafe. shame on him for not recognizing that.” rafe stared up at you, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

you were the only one that looked at him with pure adoration, the only one who made him feel like he had a purpose. “i think you’re amazing, rafe. you don’t sit around, waiting to get things done, you’re so helpful, and so, so kind— to me.” he chuckled at the clarification, rubbing a large hand over your knee. “you think so?” he leaned his head against your chest, your arms coming up to hold him. “i know so.” you sighed, breathing in his scent.

“wanna be little spoon tonight?” your voice alone made him relax, his eyes fluttering shut.

“..yeah.”

[kissoulie]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒

𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧

— NSFW. tags under the cut!

a/n: kissoulie debut day!! (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠) i wrote all of these for myself mainly but finally decided to post themmmm i wanted to post a full fic for my debut but work is busy :( i don't have enough free time </3 please do read the cws!!! they are very relevant haha my brain went a little wild with jiung so soulseob's are short ☹️ i will feed u soon sho stans u have my word 🙏 i normally don't write for jiung or keeho but the ideas were too inticing 😭

cws: fem reader, petnames (baby, princess, pretty girl), degrading (just once, "whore"), overstim, edging, breeding, daddy kink (kyo), brat taming (kyo), choking (kyo), exaggerated size kink (intak), pregnancy mention lol meandom!theo, dub-con (jiung), slight somno (jiung), squirting (soul), slight degrading, voice kink (seob), please lmk if i missed anything!!!

brat tamer!keeho who loves your cries of “daddy daddy daddy- slow down, daddy-!” followed by broken moans and whimpers from your swollen lips. he loves how you claw at him, eyes faded from how hard he's choking you, but still sobbing and slicking up more for him to fuck you stupid. he loves how you beg him to let you cum, “please please please daddy, please- can't hold it, please just let me ‘m so close daddy please just let me-” he knows you can't hold it. that's why he smacks your clit to send you over the edge. he loves how your hands try to pull his hips back, but he's determined to ruin the orgasm you don't deserve. it just makes you that much sweeter when he finally lets you cum on his cock.

meandom!theo who won't stick his dick in you until you're a crying overstimulated mess. he’ll use toys on you, stuff his pretty fingers inside you, eat you out until you're pulling on his hair so hard it hurts, but he won't fuck you until you're crying. he loves how your tears soak the pillowcase, how you cling to him like he's the only person left in the entire world. he loves feeling so special to you, to the point where he loses himself in your body when he finally does fuck you. his hips stutter, and he's cumming with a soft “fuck..” before he can stop himself.

best friend!jiung who humps you in your sleep. it’s not his fault you sleep on your stomach, your ass so.. soft and enticing. at first he did it with both your clothes on, but he realized that regardless, if he woke you up you would know what he’s doing to you. so he slowly pulls down your sleep shorts, pushing his dick between your panties and your skin. he snakes a hand under your lower stomach, pressing you to him. at first he doesn’t notice how you slick up for him, but then your hips jolt back to press against him and he’s almost clamoring off of you when he hears your whiny voice, “ji, don’t stop” who is he to deny such a needy, pretty girl? he practically rips your panties off, rubbing himself between your folds, pressing just the tip in as you moan, “‘s so big, ji, ‘s big..” “fuck, princess, that was just the tip,” you’re squeezing around him, pulling him deeper into your tight cunt. he groans, bottoming out in one sharp thrust as he loses control. you yelp, but your eyes roll back and he can feel you squirting around him, “cumming, ji, fuck” he knows you are. his eyes are shut tight as he struggles to hold back, fucking into you deeply and then speeding up. you push back against him, helping him along as he presses his hand against your stomach, feeling how his dick knocks up against it. you keep moaning and creaming all over him, and he loses control, pressed against your cervix as he paints your insides white.

size kink!intak who's so desperate for you. he wants to make love to you so bad, but you're just too small to take him properly. there's always that last couple of inches where he hits a wall, and you're sniffling out his name and holding his hands so sweetly. he can't bear to see you cry. the more he makes love to you the more he wants to breed you. and before he knows it, those last two inches are slipping past your sensitive walls while you cum all over him. you yelp in surprise but he's too far gone, fucking into you while pressing against your tummy, “gonna let me get you pregnant, baby? please- oh fuck, please”

munch!soul who’s obsessed with making you squirt. he spends precious hours between your thighs, flicking his tongue over your sensitive little clit, fingers buried inside your sopping wet cunt. he praises you, too. telling you how pretty you are for him, how good you taste, how much he needs to get his dick inside you when he's done using his mouth. he loves it when you squirt all over his cock, it makes his head empty.

voice kink!jongseob who whispers in your ear to get you off. he won't touch you until he knows you're close from just his voice, whispering filth into your ear. he wants to breed you. he wants to fuck you until you cry for him, until you squirt all over him, until you tell him you love him. that's what he's working you up for. he kisses your sensitive clit, eyes peering up at you innocently while your hiccuped cries turn to sobs. “all this from just my voice, baby? cmon, you know what you have to say so i’ll let you cum.”

[notjustjavierpena]

Panties

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Well look who are back. I didn’t think dbf!joel still existed in my brain but it seems that he is actually thriving. A little treat for you all while I polish some hubby stuff. This one absolutely goes out to @sugadolly 💖💅🫶

Summary: You show off your cute little underwear. Joel wants to fuck you but you want to try something else.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, dbf!joel, age gap, daddy kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, reader is a good little girl, outside sex (idk what is to call it), clit stim, overstim, reader is cockdrunk af, they’re actually very much in love for real, cum!!!!

Word count: 2.2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52857010

Panties

“Lemme see them,” Joel says with a gentle tone as he admires you only in your jeans. He is hovering above you, kisses your lips a few times, and cups your tits as he slips his tongue into your mouth for a brief moment. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, feeling his chest against your breasts as you embrace each other. You giggle softly, “They’re silly, Daddy.”

“Never thought in a million years that my baby would be silly,” he says with obvious sarcasm, nudging your nose with his own, “Show Daddy your pretty little panties. I’m gonna see ‘em eventually.”

You remove yourself from him to step back. You roll your eyes, and he raises a brow but then you follow through. 

“Fine,” you tut as you lie down on his bed. His eyes lock on your buttoned jeans, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes deeply with anticipation hanging in the air. 

You undo your jeans and pull down the zipper, wiggling your hips as you pull the denim down over them, and into view comes your pink cotton briefs. They’re cute, not silly, but you already know this, sporting a little bow on the front and a pattern of chibi-style cats.

“Well?” You kick off your jeans, throwing them onto the floor.

Joel kneels on the bed, admiring them thoroughly, “Pussy panties?”

You snort, covering your mouth and nose as you do, “Shut up.”

“Am I wrong, baby?” He crawls closer to you, lifts your legs up to bend them, and spreads them until his thighs hit the back of yours. He reaches up to peel his shirt off and throws it into your arms so you can hug it close and get drunk on his scent. 

“No,” you say as you contemplate crawling into the piece of clothing that he has given you. God, you want him everywhere on you. That masculine smell has you wet in moments.

“Makes ya look real pretty, lovebug,” he compliments, just about to peel the underwear off of you. He stops himself as you scrunch your nose up at the new pet name.

Joel laughs heartily, “Don’t like it?”

“Say it again,” you grin up at him.

“Love. Bug,” he repeats, yanks one of your legs at a time over his hips. 

“Hmm,” you tap your chin, “Maybe you should call me it as I come, just to make me associate it with something nice.”

“Cheeky,” he says as he pulls down his own underwear. They are in no way as thrilling as yours; black briefs that can barely contain his hard cock and with a little logo on the waistband. He settles them around his thighs, and whilst he does, you reach down to pull your colorful panties to the side.

“Joel?” You say his name. He makes a movement as if his ears have perked up at hearing his actual name.

“What is it?” He asks, rubbing your legs soothingly. His eyes are locked on your cunt.

“When— when you’re,” you trail off, suddenly shy, “Uh, when you…”

“Yes?” He drags the word out, looks up. 

“I want you to come on them,” your heart beats in your chest and ears but out of the corner of your eyes, you spot Joel’s cock twitching in the air upon hearing those words.

“Was that so hard to ask for?” He digs his thumbs into your thighs, causing you to squirm underneath him, “You just lie back and let Daddy treat ya right.”

You wait in anticipation. And then, oh.

Ohh.

“Ah,” you mewl, looking down between you to see what he is doing. The thick head of his cock lays heavily against your clit, and when you tell him how good it feels, he holds the base of his shaft and slaps the tip against the small nub a few times. 

You shudder, clenching around nothing and flexing your thighs as you shift a little. Joel’s cock hangs between his legs again, and his hands slide down to rest on your hips, thumbs reaching inwards to spread you open and watch your pulsing cunt. 

“You want me to make you feel good, baby? Make you come so hard that your little clit won’t stop twitchin’ until you get all teary-eyed?” He reaches for your clit to circle it with the pad of his thumb, and you can feel slick drip down between your ass cheeks. You moan helplessly and nod repeatedly, already heaving for breath, and Joel beams with pride, “Already cockdrunk? My my. I haven’t even fucked ya yet.”

“I don’t want you to f— I don’t want that,” you say suddenly, surprising even yourself. You reach down for Joel’s cock, pulling it against your cunt but not dipping the head into you. Instead, you rub him against your clit, “This, Daddy, I want to come like this.”

“I can make that happen,” he reassures, batting your hand away to replace it and grabbing at the base of his cock himself. He resumes what you were doing, dipping the head down to catch some of your wetness before adding pressure to your clit. He slides back and forth a few times, “Like that?”

“Mhm,” you hum softly, furrowing your brow in concentration. You hold still to let him rub his whole length through your folds until he is sticky with your arousal. His left hand is still grabbing your hip, and he uses it for leverage as he leans a little weight into you. 

When he grows impatient after a few minutes of you crying quietly for him, he tries to enter you. You catch his wrist and shake your head, “No! No… you promised.”

“I did no such thing,” he clicks his tongue at you. 

You pout up at him, “But…”

“Oh, don’t make that face,” he groans,  “You know I can’t do anythin’ when you make that face.”

“Please,” you beg, “I’ll come so hard for you.”

“Yeah?” He smiles down at you.

“Yeah,” you blink your eyes prettily, “This feels so good. I’ll cream all over your cock, Daddy.”

“Now how can I say no to that?” He moves a little before guiding his cockhead back to where you want it. He rubs the blunt head in circles over your clit for a moment, slaps it against the sensitive spot too, until you can hear the squelching sound of your wetness coating you. It makes him glide over your cunt easier. 

You curl your toes and bite your lip as you look down at what he is doing, “Ahh… Keep going.”

He does, building up a rhythm that has you whining pathetically. This shouldn’t be that intense but it is, making your pussy flutter and seek out more. 

“Let me try something,” you say, and he stops as you reach down, “One second.”

With both hands, you take hold of the seam of the leg of your underwear, holding tightly at the very top of it and the very bottom. You yank it down to sit tightly over the girth of Joel’s cock, essentially trapping it underneath your panties so it drags along the shaft with each of his thrusts. He sits so tightly against you now. 

“Try now,” you don’t even have to say please for Joel to know you are begging. 

“Jesus Christ,” he growls at the new sensation, spurred on to make himself feel it even more. He fucks himself against you with a sudden quickened breath. 

The bed starts shaking. You start trembling. 

You’re not able to take your eyes off of your sinful act, chewing on your bottom lip as he works his cock back and forth over and over again underneath the seam of your panties. 

“Please,” your sound is weak, “Fuck!”

“Careful with that,” he scolds, “Eyes on me.”

You quickly look up at his face, barely able to focus with how much he shakes your whole frame with every push of his lower body. 

“Say sorry,” he commands, referring to your use of a swear word. He doesn’t relent one bit, rolling his hips again and again. 

“S-sorry,” you apologize, too focused on how your orgasm is already approaching, “Please.”

“Hold on,” he slows down, and you nearly sob with how close you are, but he only does it to remove his shirt and uncover your chest again. Then he goes back to his frantic thrusts, eyes fixated on the way that your tits bounce with every push of his hips. 

“‘M close, Daddy,” you hiccup, feeling your heartbeat in all parts of your body. You throw your head back and groan loudly at the head of the bed, “I’m so close.”

If you weren’t holding onto your underwear, you would be clutching the bed frame so hard that your knuckles were white. Instead, the fabric is pulled so taut by your fingers that it hurts when it digs into your skin. You probably don’t have to do it so roughly but the pleasure racking up your spine makes you need it.

“Don’t hold back, baby,” he encourages with ragged breathing. Confident that you won’t let go as you orgasm, he lets go of himself and grabs both of your hips. He hoists you up a little, leans forward a little further, and then drives his hips back and forth, cockhead sliding over your clit repeatedly. 

“I’m gonna— Oh my God, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come,” you say it like you’re almost in a panic, almost too overwhelmed to embrace the intensity you’re about to experience. You want to push him away and pull him in at the same time but he holds you so roughly in place that you just have to take it. Your eyes find his as you let it happen, “I’m coming! Daddy, oh f— I’m coming!”

“Yeah? My love bug’s coming?” He nods as encouragement, “Come for me, darlin’ baby.”

And my God, you do. You can feel your whole pelvic floor erupt into beautiful spasms of pleasure, your clit pulsing so fast and strongly that you are sure that Joel can feel it against his dick. You thank God that he is holding onto you because you are twitching and moving involuntarily as he continues his sweet torment, and tears stream down your face. 

“That’s it, baby doll, you just cry all ya want,” Joel manages to coo between his own moans. You sob as your orgasm peaks, even more when you slip into a state of oversensitivity. Joel doesn’t relent, “Oh, baby. I know, baby, I know.”

It isn’t until your panties start to tear that he draws back, precome beading at the slit of his cock from how turned on he is. He is smeared with your arousal too, pearly white, and he seems to have put all the strength he has into holding back so you don’t pass out. 

You shiver, trying to make sense of why your body chose to make you come so hard from a simple clit orgasm. The sweat on your body suddenly feels cold, and you reach for him until he leans down and kisses your lips. You whimper into his mouth. He wipes away a few tears.

“You okay?” He asks softly, pulling back slightly to look you in the eyes as you reply.

“Yes, sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize,” he tuts, “You were gorgeous. God, I am so crazy about you.”

“Now you,” you insist, looking down between the two of you to see the red tip of his weeping cock, “You promised.”

“That I did,” he draws back until he is on his knees again. He grabs the base of his dick, strokes it a few times, and then lays it against the crotch of your underwear. 

Joel rubs the head fast against the soft fabric. He holds onto your thighs, neck muscles straining as he seeks out his own pleasure. You watch him whilst delirious with post-orgasmic bliss, occasionally whimpering when he unintentionally slides over your swollen clit. 

A moment later, after one of your particularly high whines, he comes with a short breath of relief. He stains the fabric, lays his cock heavy against the front of the underwear, and pulses until he has no more to give. It’s intense to see him like this, and you find yourself grabbing his wrist to keep him in the moment with you. 

“Christ, sweetheart,” he pants. He slumps a little.

“I thought it was love bug,” you say with irresistible charm. 

“Don’t make me tell you to lick ‘em clean, young lady,” he smirks, already crawling forward to lay down on top of you. He crushes you so heavenly with his weight, pretending-biting your cheek and causing you to snicker, “Are we clear?”

You hold him close, relishing in everything that he is, “We’re clear. I’ll behave. Somewhat.”

“Somewhat?” He nuzzles into your neck and presses a kiss. 

“Well, I don’t think I’m quite satisfied,” you say dramatically. 

Joel pulls back to glare at you, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I need you inside me too,” you pout even more dramatically, “Pussy feels so lonely, Daddy. Needs something.”

“Well, we can’t starve this insatiable pussy, can we?” Joel catches on quickly, and soon, he has you screaming on three of his fingers. 

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[soullumii]

sleepyhead | gale dekarios x afab!reader

(18+!!!) afab!reader. second person pov. literally just smut: oral (f receiving), piv, dirty talk, consensual somnophilia. gale lives to please as always

my first gale fic... this man has taken over my entire life.

2k words

Gale’s lips press against yours in the dark, gentle and coaxing. A push and pull. You blink blearily awake from slumber as his hand finds your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your sleep shift. His brown hair falls over the two of you like a curtain, shielding you from the terrors of the darkness.  

“Mm hello,” you purr against his lips. “What time is it?” You ask when he pulls back. He looks a bit wild, pupils blown wide, his eyes practically look black even in the dim candlelight. He’s breathing heavily, his gaze traveling over you, heated, like the air surrounding fire. He doesn’t answer. 

“Gale?” you repeat, warmth pooling in your belly at the pure desperation on his face. At the want curling in his eyes like a flame.

“It’s late,” he murmurs, voice rough, as though he’s parched. “Though I cannot stop thinking about you. I must…” he trails off, mind moving faster than his mouth can.

One thing you love about Gale is his ability to talk for seemingly hours on end with such eloquence and poetry. But when he’s like this…already hard against your thigh, slowly rutting his hips in circles, captured within pleasure, the words seem to leave him. You love it just as much, if not more. 

He leans in and runs his nose along your throat, breath ghosting over your skin. His teeth graze you, and his tongue follows, licking a stripe up your throat. You moan shakily, cunt clenching around nothing. 

“What’s gotten into you?” You ask, though it’s more breath than substance. Your brain is already beginning to short circuit, especially when the hand on your waist travels down to your thigh, fingertips pressing into the muscle there. 

“You just looked so beautiful on the battlefield today… I tried to contain myself because we had so much to do, but… fuck,” he breathes this against your neck, desperate. He hardly ever uses such vulgar language. “I need you, love.” 

“So you really weren’t lying when you told me you were turned on by my fighting,” you say, surprised.

“I am a lot of things, darling, but a liar is not one of them.”

The sound of his inhale as he leans down to kiss you again sends more molten pleasure swirling through you. 

His hips press against yours, grinding against your clothed cunt in a steady rhythm. You moan into his mouth, your hands reaching up to clench at his sleep shirt stretched over his broad back. 

You’re still sleepy as his hand drifts to the hem of your shift. He slowly pulls it up your thighs, up over your breasts, revealing your undergarments. He paws at your waistband like a cat begging for food. You lift your hips so he can pull them down over your ass. He undoes the ties to your bralette and slides it off your shoulders. 

Gale kisses his way down your body, stopping to close his warm mouth over a nipple while his dexterous hand squeezes and tugs at the other. You moan lightly, pleasure easing through you. He hums appreciatively against your skin, and the vibrations travel pleasantly through you.

“Gale…” you half murmur half moan as he moves his mouth to your other nipple. “I can hardly stay awake…” You feel yourself slipping in and out of consciousness. The gentle chirping of the crickets outside your tent doesn’t help.

“Of course,” he says, leaning back. “We can stop.”

“No—no wait,” you stop him with a hand curled around his wrist. “You can keep going while I’m sleeping, I don’t mind.” 

His eyes darken, his tongue dipping out to wet his lips. “Really? Are you quite sure?”

You nod with a sleepy smile and settle back comfortably. “Mhm.” 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, pressing another kiss to your lips. 

Your eyes flutter shut, your breathing slowing as you succumb to your exhaustion. Your limbs feel heavy, even as Gale continues his way down your body. 

“You’re so gorgeous, so perfect,” he whispers into your skin. His fingers curl into your thighs before he slowly pulls them apart, baring yourself to him.

He runs his hands appreciatively up and down your thighs, squeezing and kneading before hooking them over his shoulders.

Gale presses a kiss to the inside of your right thigh before retreating. You feel his lips again a second later, just between your thigh and cunt, mere centimeters from where you’re wet and aching for him.

And then you feel his warm breath puffing against your core, and your body squirms impatiently. You peek an eye open to watch him.

He looks so handsome as he glances up at you, eyes soft, mouth twitched into a smirk. “I thought you were going to sleep.”

“I am,” you reply, closing your eyes again. “Just wanted to admire the view one last time.” 

He chuckles lowly, “Sweet dreams, darling.”

He doesn’t move for a while, and you find yourself drifting off in the stillness. Your breathing slows, your mind growing quiet as sleep takes over you.

---

The moment your breaths even out as your hands fall slack against your sides, Gale presses his face between your thighs. He uses the flat of his tongue to lick a long, hot stripe through your folds. You taste delicious on his tongue, and gods you’re so wet. You’re soaking his beard, and he’s hardly been between your thighs for longer than ten seconds.

He doesn’t care. You keep releasing cute little moans in your sleep as he takes you apart brick by brick. Or rather… lick by lick.

His hands grip your waist, keeping you close. Your hips buck involuntarily to meet his mouth, grinding against his face. Even in your sleep you’re seeking out pleasure from him. 

God forbid he won’t deliver.

He pulls back one of his hands to slide a finger into you. It goes easily. He adds another without any resistance. You’re so incredibly wet. He wants to remain between your thighs forever. Your sweet, slick arousal runs down his hand to his wrist, and he bends his head to lick it off. 

His hips rut against the floor of his tent, the act of eating you out so arousing to him he has to seek his own pleasure to mitigate the pain. He doesn’t mind. He’d rather see you cum over and over again before he ever does.

He slowly thrusts his fingers into you while mouthing at your clit, delighting in your shaky breaths and wanton moans. You look gorgeous, brows screwed together, sweat beading on your temple. You’re going to wake up soon, and damnit he’ll make sure it’s while you’re cumming.

---

Warmth kindles between your thighs, pleasure and arousal pooling deep in your belly, tingling in your toes and rising through you.

Sleep drifts away from you, hanging onto the recesses of your mind, but ultimately not strong enough against the building pleasure you feel. 

You chase the feeling, the promise of sweet release. Your surroundings slowly begin to materialize around you. The feeling of your bedroll clenched between your fingers, the undeniable feeling of a mouth between your legs, the sound of low, rumbling, appreciative moans that vibrate through you.

Even the sound of your own cries are registering in your mind. 

The melting pleasure collapses into one pinpoint. A supernova explodes within you as your clit is sucked diligently while the two, long fingers buried inside you hook to press against your g-spot. 

Your back bows, eyes flying open as you cum against Gale’s warm and inviting mouth with a cry of his name. He guides you through it with gentle laps of his tongue through your folds. He mumbles words of encouragement, but they’re lost against your skin. 

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Gale.”

“Mm.” You can practically feel his pride radiating off of him from making you come. 

He continues to lick you through it until you’re coming again, hands fisted in his hair as his lips suck once more on your clit, his fingers fucking into you. Your legs quiver atop his shoulders, your mind utterly fucked into emptiness.

When it’s all too much you push him away, breathing heavily, contented tears in your eyes.

“Holy shit,” you huff, trying to catch your breath. “Maybe you should wake me up like that more often.”

His eyes sparkle excitedly. “If that is what you wish, I’d be glad to.” 

“You are such a giver. You really should let me take care of you sometimes.”

He shrugs. “I like giving. It brings me great pleasure to reside between your thighs for as long as you can stand.”

You sigh at his fanciful words, but you appreciate his adoration all the same. He crawls forward as you lean up to kiss him, the taste of yourself on his tongue rekindling the fire in your gut. His hand winds its way into your hair, the other squeezes your hip. 

“I need you inside me,” you whisper against his lips. “Now.” 

He groans, fingers flexing in your hair. Your body jolts with arousal at the sweet tug. 

“Say no more,” Gale says. “Your wish is my command.”

He takes off his trousers then rolls you onto your stomach. His hands grip your hips, pulling your ass up and backwards, and his knee comes between your thighs to press them apart. 

He guides the head of his cock through your slick folds and your hips squirm in anticipation.

He leans across your back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade. “I wish you could see yourself on the battlefield. The way you look with someone else’s blood on your armor… The flush on your cheeks… The way you breathe… You’re so capable, so strong. I cannot help but stare.”

He eases his cock inside you and the two of you moan in tandem at the delightful feeling. Him, at your warmth. You, at the undeniable feeling of being filled. 

He bites lightly at your shoulder before whispering in your ear. “Sometimes I wish I could take you right there. In front of all of our friends and dead foes.”

You clench around him at his words, and he groans, hips snapping forward. You jolt against the bedroll, elbows digging into the feather down material. 

“Gale,” you whimper. 

He hums, “Yes. You’d be saying my name just. Like. That.” He delivers those three last words with hard thrusts, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing in the tent. 

He builds up the pace, fucking into you steadily. Your cheek squishes against your pillow as he fills you, your mind still sleepy but undeniably consumed by lust and love.

“What do you think? Would you like that, love? Would you like to be fucked in front of all our companions?” 

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, please, Gale. Need you—“

“Mm, that’s it,” he murmurs. His hand skates across your stomach as his warm fingers settle over your clit. “As much as I’d love to indulge the fantasy, I’m not sure I’d want them to watch.” 

He begins to circle your clit with reverence, in time with his thrusts as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

“I want you all to myself,” he grits. 

You cry out, melting against him, knees buckling as you reach your release. It rips through you, hard and fast. Unrelenting. A wildfire raging through your nerves. 

Gale chases after his own climax, thrusts growing sloppy and deeper, moans and praises spilling from his lips before he finally cums inside you, hips twitching. 

Your body trembles as the aftershocks roll through you. 

You collapse onto the bedroll, breathing heavily, and Gale pulls you into him. You both lie on your sides, him softening inside you. He buries kisses into your neck, his arms wrapped around your waist. 

“Are you all right?” he asks you, his thumb brushing comfortingly along your rib cage. 

“So good,” you respond, brain blissfully empty, as if the tadpole never existed. You already feel sleep crawling across your mind again, pulling you under. You yawn and grin happily, like a cat that’s gotten its warm milk. 

“Going back to bed already?” he teases, leaning up to press a kiss to your cheek. “I wear you out that much?” 

“Mhmm…”

“All right. Go to sleep darling. I’ll clean you up.”

You’re already halfway asleep when you feel his tongue dip into you once more, licking his cum out from inside you—

Oh well. You can catch up on sleep tomorrow.

[websterss]

UNFILTERED — ETHAN LANDRY

REQUEST: Secretly dating Ethan for months but you get caught bc you walked with Ethan back to his dorm. He kisses you goodbye before realizing Chad is there.😭

WARNING(S): SPOILERS, um cussing again lmfao. Implications but its pretty okay i guess...

WORD COUNT: 1,162

PAIRING: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

“You sure you don’t want to stay tonight? I can be the little spoon this time.” Ethan offered. His back pressed against the open door of his room.

“The last time we tried that you fell off the edge. You’re a giant Ethan. You hardly fit on your twin sized bed.” You pressed a fist to his bicep. The doorway was filled with echoes of your laugh combined with Ethan‘s grimace then followed chuckles.

“That hurt by the way. I swear I thought we could fit.” His eyes crinkled with an apologetic smile.

“Well, your calculations were wrong. I fit just fine. It was your dumbass who’s legs hung off the foot of the be-“ You were cut off by Ethan’s assaults of tickles. You squirmed in his grasp trying to push him away.

“Stop, stop, stop. Pleassse no more…no more no more no mor-'' You break out into another fit of giggles.

“S-Say you're sorry.” Ethan couldn’t contain his own fits.

“No-“ Your head falls on his chest in defeat. “Okay, okay. Fine, I’ll stop. I’m sorry...” You thank him out of breath. Patting his bicep graciously. “God, you’re mean.”

“I’m not mean.” He chuckles. “Just right.”

“Yes, mean. And you are wrong. Like half the time despite having a gorgeous brain.” You look up and push back his curls.

“My brain’s gorgeous now?” He nodded, a teasing raise of his eyebrows.

“Only when you're not being a dumbass.” You wrap your arms around his neck. You leaned in and pressed your head against his. Sighing as he pulls you closer up against him.

“Stay…” He mutters softly. “Or at least let me walk you.” He suggests.

“I’m literally the building next over.” You scoff out a laugh. Pointing into the hallway for the dorms.

“A lot can happen within that walk.” He shrugs.

“Like what, getting stabbed by ghost face?” You mock with a laugh. Though seeing his shoulders slump let you know otherwise. He didn’t find it in the least bit amusing.

“That’s not funny.” He dipped his head.

“Oh, would you stop worrying. I’ll be fine. I’ll even text you when I’m safe and sound in my dorm…not bleeding out from a stab wound.” You smirk and press a sweet kiss to his cheek. He leans into your lips. Then gives up trying to convince you to stay. He leans against the door again.

“You’ll call me right when you get there?” He starts letting the idea of you walking to your dorm process.

“I’ll even FaceTime, which you know I hate doing it. I’ll even do the BeReal shit, or whatever it’s called just for the kick of it.” You now hold him at arm's length. “I’m gonna be fine. Just like I’ve been fine for the past few months. I’m invincible.” You raise your biceps, trying to show your very visible lack of muscles. Ethan’s eye roll only makes you laugh further. “Now, shut up and kiss me stupid, so I can be on my merry way, and begin my daydreaming about you, and those muscles, and that hair I like to pu-“ You moaned in delight as he cut you off with his lips. He turned you guys around and pressed you up against the door this time. Your arms now pinned over your head. He kissed you hard and rough, and god it was fucking hot. You thanked all the women that rejected him prior to meeting you. The universe had really been looking out for you, blessing you with a six foot tall, hot brunette, gorgeous brown eyed loser of a boyfriend. But goddamn was he no loser in bed. You were truly blessed.

You pulled back with a gasp. Head tilted as he left trails of kisses up and down your neck. “Fuck…” You let out shaken and rocked to your core.

“Still wanna leave?” He breathed out with shit-eating grin.

“Please leave.”

The yelp you let out was quite embarrassing. You had jumped one inch off the floor, and you had never seen Ethan pull away from you so fast. Yours and Ethan’s head snapped to the source. You both walked further into the room. Your eyes widening as they fall upon Chad, curled over a text book. He wasn’t looking directly at you but he was highly aware that the doorway was being corrupted.

“H-How long have you been sitting there?” Ethan closed his eyes, as mortified as you were in that moment.

“Enough to know you two are into some kinky ass shit. By the way, what the fuck?” He scooted his chair back and looked at you two incredulously. “When the fuck did this happen? And please tell me it hasn’t happened in the sacredness of our room…”

You and Ethan exchange a look at each other then grimace and wince at Chad who looks at Ethan’s bed grossed out.

“I think imma throw up, but also, why didn’t you just tell us. What’s with the sneaky around?”

“Cause you and Mindy are fucking nosy as hell! Plus I didn’t- We didn’t want the group to meddle into our lives. I don’t need Mindy schooling us on the basis of scary movies 101 every second we want some time alone. Okay? We just wanted to enjoy the peace while it still lasted. That’s if you can keep your fucking mouth shut though.”

“I’m offended.” He touched his heart.

“You’re a goddamn blabbermouth.” You smack him upside the head. Ethan chuckles amused by this whole ordeal. Chad shakes his head. Then looks between you.

“You trust him?”

“I let him deflower me for three months. I wouldn’t let someone go that easily….but yeah I trust him.” You nodded surely. Arms crossed over your chest.

“Don’t ever say deflower again please. For the sake of our peers and my ears.”

“You want me to say he fucked me then?” You let out a small chuckle. “Defiled, corrupted my insides? I’m an English major dude, I’m loaded with synonyms.” You gesture to yourself.

“No!” Chad exclaims, mortified. “Don’t fucking say shit period! Get the fuck out already!” He points to the door but laughs nonetheless.

“Alright, I’m going!” You lean over and press a kiss to Ethan’s cheek. “I’ll call you later, okay.” Your hands separated as you walked to the door.

“You’re fucking unbelievable…You put up with her willingly?” He laughs up at Ethan.

“Everyday...” He nods. “You just have to catch her on a good day though.”

“See even Ethan’s done with your shit!” Chad leans over to see you halt at the door.

“Not when I’m offering up my pu-” You shimmy, but dodge out the way as he throws a football at you. Your booming laughter echoing in the hallways.

“Fuck you!” Chad yells after you.

“You wish!” Your voice could be faintly heard.

“That’s your girlfriend, Landry.” Chad points to the open door. “You’re unfiltered, crazy ass girlfriend.”

“That’s my girlfriend...” He laughs out loud.

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐔𝐩 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 | 𝐂.𝐒 ♡

【Synopsis】 : You had one job and three rules. And you broke every single one.

『Word count』 : 2.18k

-> Genre: Smut. Mafia Au.

Pairing: MobBoss!San x PrivateDriver!Reader 

[Warnings] : Swearing. Gun violence. Some angst. Mention of death. San's a bit bloody. Blood (obviously). Unprotected sex. Car sex. Squirting. Light-hearted banter. Hinting of sex work and abuse (doesn't go into detail). Speeding. Car chase. Fingering. Fucking while driving (don't do this). Pet names

Note: This is based on this drabble. Everyone liked it so much that i just had to make a full fic, hehe.

Networks : @newworldnet ♡

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“Oh no, I want to hear it, darling. What else would you find enjoyable to ride?” He shot the last of his drink, his hand evidently palming his clothed hard-on.

“I think you already know the answer, sir.”

“Hmm.” was all he responded with.

-

That night you’d fuck yourself on your dildo with the idea of San palming himself while you drove. The way his pants were stuck in your brain, playing on repeat as he continued to pleasure himself while you drove him home. You couldn’t have dropped him off sooner, cause you swore he was going to cum in his pants if he kept going.

‘Until next time, bunny.’

His voice was so smooth. Deep. You know you were playing a dangerous game by becoming involved with a client much less a feared mob boss that would kill someone that looked at him the wrong way. But the way he looked at you through the mirror every time you drove him. He was always so happy to see you, chatting about anything to keep his mind off his work. You were an escape for him. Something that was a reminder he was supposed to be this angry man twenty-four-seven. No, he could, laugh, tease, flirt, with you and you’d either shut him down or egg him on. Both of which rial him up even more.

The idea of touching you, having you. Even if it was for one night, it was becoming increasingly more tempting. But alas, he knew you. You are professional, and you wouldn’t disobey your company’s rules.

Do not sleep with the clients.

But something deep in your soul was screaming at you that all of your morality was about to go out the window. You were sent to pick up a client on a south port right after they had finished some trade. Well, that was the plan, at least, but here you were sitting an hour later after the supposed pick-up. This is getting ridiculous. You thought, shifting in your seat, trying to keep your muscles awake. What is taking him so long?

You knew of the client. Some lowlife trying to make it big in the mafia world. How he managed to hire you was a mystery. Maybe a debt is being paid? Or some sweet talking. But then again, from what you heard, he had neither up his sleeve. You closed your eyes for a moment, just a moment, trying to rest the tired feeling you were experiencing behind your temple. Everything was quiet, peaceful almost… Well, that was until you heard a gunshot, then two more following it.

You sat up and looked around frantically, spotting a few men rushing out of the large barn that sat by the waterfront. They were chasing a man, a young feline looking—it’s San.

The side door opened to a bloody-looking man with a feverious smile. His adrenaline was pumping to the point that you could see the veins in his neck bulging. His gun was still tight in his grip, wiping his brow with the back of the same hand. “I need you to get us out of here, princess.”

“I..B-but. Wait. My client…” You were so confused, not even registering you started the car. The men that had been chasing San were hot on your tail, so you began to floor it through the back roads of the port.

“Uh, yeah, well. He’s dead. He didn’t like the deal I offered and the bitch thought he could beat it out of me. ME! The king of fucking Seoul. Fucking arrogant pig.” San rambled but you barely heard what he had to say about the client. No, all you could think about was getting the fuck out of dogged and away from any of the crooks San managed to piss off. But then again pissing people off seemed like San's specialty.

“Where do I even go from here those bastards are probably tracking my fucking car.” You’ve never spoken so out of line before in front of a client but here you were. San just raked his fingers through his dirty hair, licking his busted lip.

“Why would they be tracking us.” San started searching through the glove departments for any signs of a tracker, but you just huffed, clutching the wheel tighter before almost screaming at him.

“They would be tracking us ‘cause they are the ones that own this fucking car and I was supposed to drive their fucking boss to a fucking safe house you idiot.” You didn’t mean to blow up but the tension became so thick in the vehicle you felt like you had no choice. San sat still for a moment, never hearing someone call him out of his stupidity before other than his right hand, Wooyoung. The silence was making your skin crawl, making you suddenly aware you just yelled at a mob boss. A mob boss that was definitely packing some kind of weapon…The fucking king of Seoul as he put it. You suddenly felt a hand touch your thigh making your whole body jump and the car almost swerved off the road.

“Well go on. Get us out of here, darling.” His voice was smooth and collected. It made your head spin. “B-but the track—If we get far enough, the tracker won’t reach, and then we can dump the car and run." San chuckled, turning back to stare at the road. You, on the other hand, were struggling to keep focus on the tar in front of you. He hasn't moved his fucking hand…

You started to speed up, swerving through the small amounts of traffic. You kept eyeing the rear-view mirror checking your back, and you noticed several cars tailing you.

Bastards.

You took a sharp left, causing San to shift in his seat and his hand that was perched on your thigh to slide up higher. You visibly shivered, making San aware of where his hand went. He just smirked, "Such a good girl. Getting me out of here. Remind me, why you don't drive for me permanently again?"

"Cause you flirt too much and I'm…" you felt his finger brush against your inner thigh… "I-I'm in a contract with the company I work for."

"Hmmm, well, you know I'm pretty good at making contracts disappear." He dared to reach further, and you were delusional enough to open your legs a little for him.

"H-he'd kill me. I can't leave." There was so much more in your contract that San didn't know of, but he could think of a few things the scum bag made you do. You have a passion for driving and driving fast. And he used that to get you to do other shit for him. Bastard.

"You won't have to ever do anything for him ever again. Come home with me. I'll look after you. Let you ride any of my cars… and anything else you might want…" he leaned towards your tense frame, seeing your knuckles turn white from how hard you held the wheel. "I'd give you the moon if you asked, darling. Anyone for my best girl."

My best girl…. oh, now your head is definitely spinning. Your foot hit the gas harder, reaching a long stretch of dirt road. Sitting at 90, you jumped to 120. "S-san…"

He popped the button of your dress pants, slipping his fingers delectably down until they grazed your bare core.

125km/h

"You like to be called my best girl, huh? Just need some praise, princess?" His breath tickled as he licked a strip along your neck up to your ear, biting your ear lob. All the while, his hand dipped further, running his long finger along your slit. "Fuck your soaked baby. Wet for me baby?" He chuckled, deeply.

You bit your lip, trying so hard not to close your eyes. "San p-please." You didn't know why you said that, but it was all you could think of. He pushed the pad of his finger against your clit, rubbing in slow little circles.

130km/h

"God you know how much I've thought about this pussy. How much I've dreamt about fucking her, tasting her. I bet you taste like fucking honey darling." His finger slid into your aching hole, making you gasp.

135km/p

Your watery eyes looked through the rear-view mirror, seeing no one behind you anymore, just a thick dust cloud created in your wake. You felt his finger slip in and out of you, making you open your legs wider for him. He chuckled, kissing your neck more until.

You slammed on the brakes, drifting the car through the dirt until it spun around and stopped in a sharp huff. Everything happened so quickly, but it was like you and San were in sync. Undoing your belts, he pulled his chair's brake, pulling the seat backwards so he had more leg room and was angled so you could climb on top of him.

Your lips captured his in a hot and messy kiss while his hand worked his belt and pants, slipping them down just enough so his naked ass could rest on the leather and his cock slapped against his clothed abdomen. You pulled your pants off while still in your seat. Ditching your slip-on sneakers before climbing onto his lap.

He gripped your blouse, ripping it off so the button flew everywhere. Neither of you cared though. Not as his lips latched on the top of your breasts, tugging your bra down so your tits could spill over the top. "Fuck,"

He groans as he catches a glimpse of your body. You are perfect, better than he imagined. "This was not how I wanted to ravish you."

"Yes, it was, don't fucking lie." You cut him off with another kiss. In truth, you were right. He had many dreams of fucking you senselessly in one or all of his vehicles. Maybe even on his bike, too.

"It's the thought that counts." He laughed against your lips.

"Shut up." You pulled your panties aside, sinking your fingers inside yourself. San watch in awe as you stretched yourself out on top of his twitching cock. And as if you could get more perfect, you moaned his name while doing it.

"Fuck your gorgeous." He slammed his head back against the chair and groaned as he bucked his hips up to try and get some kind of friction. But what he didn't expect was to feel your hand wrap tightly around his aching shaft. "Jesus fuck.."

It was your turn to giggle now, shifting your weight you lined your soaking entrance to his red angry cock tip, letting him breach your walls with a pop. You slowly sank down on his inch by inch. His hands flew for your hips, helping you bottom him out. "Saaniie y-you're huge. Fuck."

"Don't say shit like that. I-Fuck.. I won't last." His eyes hazily gazed to where you were connected feeling you pull up, then slam back down onto his cock. You circled your hips, drawing loud moans from both of you. Your hands fly to his shoulders, bringing his body closer to yours. Chest to chest. San nuzzled his face into your neck, taking a large inhale through his nose. He could smell your sweet perfume mixing with the lude scent of sex.

"So perfect." He mumbled, bracing his feet to the floor before jackhammering into your soaked cunt. Your screams were muffled against his neck as his pace became ruthless and harsh. Your hips moved out of sync with his thrusts, perfectly letting you grind your clit against his pelvis, sending electricity up your spine.

"S-sann, I'm gonna cum. Please let me cum." You whimpered, biting down on his shoulder fearing to draw blood.

"Yes, cum baby. I want to feel you cum around my cock. Be a good girl." He groaned, holding you tighter, feeling his own high creeping closer. Your tummy tugged tight and snapped. Your hips stilling, taking San's abusive thrusts as you squirted all over his lap.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck." San slammed deep inside you, splurting his seed inside you, painting your walls with his cream. He kisses your shoulder, legs slightly shaking as he empties his load. You just laid there, taking every drop. Your pussy clenched around him, hissing at the sensitivity. Your fingers were laced in his hair, and his making shapes on your sweat-still clothed back.

"I broke the rules…" You whispered. San felt a little guilty that he made you break the rules of your company. He tainted you, and he was sorry for it. You'd never get another job as a driver if people found out you slept with a client. "You made me go over 140. You're lucky there weren't cops out here."

Oh, you were complaining about sleeping with him.

"That's what you're worried about." San had to laugh, hugging your figure tighter as he chuckled against your neck.

"Yes, I could have crashed and fucked the car."

"Yeah, instead, you just fucked me." You sat up and slapped his chest for that comment.

—

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