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rafey-baby · 1 month

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sweet treat

This picture is making me have thoughts about sexy construction worker!Rafe who spends his days lifting heavy stuff and building shit, as he words it when shy!reader inquires about his job since he’s always showing up to the small cafe she works at all sweaty and white shirt dirtied...

hope you enjoy xx

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

cw: construction worker!Rafe being flirty and having some improper thoughts about reader, slightly suggestive

wc: 1k

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Every time the golden bell above the door of the coffee shop dings and Rafe's eyes settle on her soft form the edges of his mouth tilt up; offering her a lazy grin as he asks what baked good she’d recommend for him to try that day.

His visits have become something she begins to look forward to, him asking about her day with his raspy voice and big biceps bulging as he leans against the counter; always managing to drag a nervous giggle out of her. She feels like a Pavlov’s dog, her brain tingling and mind buzzing like a bee when the clock ticks away and the time he usually walks through the mustard yellow door approaches.

And he thinks she’s just as sweet as sugar, especially when she smiles at him all bashful, trying to hide the way her eyes round out and her breath gets caught in her throat whenever he leans closer to her, asking what she's doing after this with a slow drawl, lifting his thumb to her cheek and swiping away a smudge of flour dusted over the skin there, lingering for a second too long.

"Messy girl," he'd murmur, purposefully trying to make her blush, being mean.

Slowly but surely, his visits become the best part of her day and she starts to harbor fond, gooey feelings towards the slightly older guy who makes a show of loudly humming in satisfaction when he bites into a raspberry chocolate muffin she’s made, honey dripping from his tongue when he showers her in compliments.

He seems to be pleased when she diverts her jittery eyes from his intense gaze and tries to busy herself with swiping a rag over a spot on the countertop (for the fourth time already), sneaking glances at him indulging in the confectioneries she's practically forcing him to taste test now; whenever she tries a new recipe, she always wants him to be the first to try it. And he's not complaining.

And when he finds out she walks home by herself, even after night shifts, there’s no other option for him but to insist driving her home from then on, because he doesn’t like the idea of such a pretty girl walking alone in the dark, doesn’t like it at all.

She of course denies him immediately, going on about not wanting to bother him and that she’s fine, to which he simply furrows his brows, telling her it actually wouldn’t be a bother at all since he can often work quite late as well, demanding to know what time she gets off that night. And she has no choice but to hesitantly reply, his stern tone almost compelling her to give into his every wish.

It then becomes a routine for them, him waiting for her to finish up cleaning and her mumbling out a soft thank you when he holds the door of his truck open and she crawls onto the passenger side with his palm on the small of her bag guiding her, just resting there, reassuring. He often refers to her as "my passenger princess", making her melt into a puddle on the seat every single time; trying to hide her flustered face from him, but failing miserably.

She often feels rather overwhelmed in the small space of his car, a plum tinge heating up her face whenever she feels his eyes on her, catching her staring at his big hands. She's not sure how he's allowed to have such alluring details; a singular gold ring adorning his index finger, strawberry lips so inviting, it's making her head spin.

Therefore, it’s not really her fault when her mind gets lost in a haze and her brain turns foggy when she notices how his strong arms flex whenever he turns the steering wheel, thumb tapping against the leather. Or when his blunt fingernails scratch at the slight stubble on his face and she wonders how it would feel on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs or-

“You good, Sweetheart?” Rafe asks and she blinks, realizing he’s asked her a question. A question her dazed cerebrum has no recollection of.

“Sorry?” She's embarrassed.

A low chuckle rumbles from his sturdy chest. “What’s on your mind, hm?”

“Oh, um— nothing just tired and…stuff,” she tries to sound convincing, his grin widens.

“Yeah? So you’re telling me you weren’t just checking me out?” His tone turns into something condescending, patronizing.

“What? I— no, no I was just-“

“Relax, I’m just fucking with you,” but there’s a mocking glint in his eyes that indicates she’s not being very subtle. Her face burns.

“Asked you if you were hungry?” He flits his eyes to hers.

“Uh...yeah, sure. I mean, I don’t even remember how long it's been since I ate lunch to be honest,” she starts to ramble, trying to ignore the murky thoughts trying to reach beyond the surface.

“Why don’t you come over to my place then and I could make you something? All I’m saying, is that I’m a great cook, feels unfair to me that you’re always the one filling up my belly with your baking,” he says as his mind starts to concoct a few other ways he could fill up her belly, willing to bet that she’d let him.

He’s not an idiot, he sees the way her moony eyes travel down his features whenever she thinks he’s not paying attention, thinks it's adorable how sheepish she is about it.

However, he’s hesitant about the right way to approach it, not wanting to scare the shy little thing away. But he’s not sure how much longer he can go without having her in the way he wants, in the way he needs.

Therefore, he opts to warm her up with a homemade meal, and afterwards let her have a sweet treat; he'd fuck her dumb, stuff his cock into her tight cunt until tears start to trickle down her cheeks and she's a whimpering mess.

He knows he could make her feel so good, wants to show her just how much she's missing, make her beg for it and wants to be a little mean, but most of all he just wants to make her his.

“Um…okay,” she agrees with a nod of her head. How is she supposed to deny him of anything when he’s looking at her with eyes that resemble dulcet water puddles?

#just thinking thoughts #construction worker!Rafe #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe smut #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #outerbanks rafe #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe concepts

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glossysoap · 5 months

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pushing boundaries

all those hairy chest pics (esp this one) have me thinking of best friend/roommate soap who’s way too comfortable being shirtless naked around you. (soap who's way too comfortable pushing boundaries.)

18+, general boundary pushing, creepy soap, dubcon (forcing reader to touch him, but reader wants it), again - not as dark as a lot of things on here but i’m not very experienced in writing dubcon so 😅

he could be doing anything, and if he felt like showing himself off to you, he would find some excuse to do it.

if he was cooking? "what? the kitchen's too hot, bonnie! sweatin' my arse off in here." the entire time you were helping him cook, you'd be forced to watch his muscles ripple and flex, all shiny with sweat. your eyes would wander involuntarily, studying each scar and bruise that littered his tan freckled skin. from where you stood beside him , you could see where dark hair grew on his chest and stomach. you gulp as you see the tufts of hair that trailed down his stomach and into his sweatpants. you would be so distracted from ogling at him that you didn't see his lips stretch into a smirk.

if you two were watching a movie? "come on, bonnie," he drawls out as he lays back into the couch, eyes burning into your flustered form. with a grunt, he stretches his arm out and around your shoulders. he's so casual about it too - as if his muscular arm wasn't pressed flush against you, as if his body heat wasn't flooding your body, as if his natural musk wasn't flooding your nostrils. as if you couldn't see every ridge and ripple of his abs, every scar that you wanted to lick. as if you couldn't see every strand and curl of hair that littered his chest and abs. as if you couldn't see the patch of dark hair that trailed down past his waistband... no doubt covering the base of his cock that was also rock hard. "am i not allowed to be comfortable in my own home?" he would murmur the words in your ear, his breath fanning your sensitive skin and making you shiver.

the latter is when he's the worst. in addition to shedding his shirt and leaving his chest all exposed, he purposefully takes up a good chunk of the couch so you're forced to cuddle with him. if you've already taken your seat when he comes to sit down, he quickly stretches out and invades your bubble of personal space. not too long after, his heavy body will be stretched out on top of you. his head will usually be buried in your chest, nestled between the valley of your breasts. you try and ignore the way his hands always find a way to grope your tits.

if he's not laying on you, his gaze will be burning into you the whole time. he knows you stare (even if you try not to), he can feel your eyes sneak a glance at his exposed chest before darting away. he can see how your eyes widen and how your pulse thrums against your neck. he can see how flustered turned on you are, and he means to take full advantage of that.

“like what ye see?” he grins, drinking in every detail of your expression, committing to memory how you looked so skittish with your wide eyes and bitten lips. he couldn't suppress the chuckle that rumbled from his chest as you stumbled on your words.

"wha- i don't know what you're talking about!" your mouth gapes as you try to avoid his gaze, suddenly finding the mundane movie in front of you so interesting. much more interesting than the hard wall of muscle pressed up against you, whispering filthy things in your ear.

"no? yer not droolin' over yer best friends body?" he moves impossibly closer, tightening his hold on your shoulders and pulling you even tighter against him. as he spoke, his mouth came even closer to your ear until you could feel his lips grazing it. your breath hitched before you could help it. "yer not too busy starin' at me to watch the movie you picked out?" he nips at your ear.

you try to focus back on the movie, just ignoring him and not rewarding him with a reaction. if anything to just try and shed the embarrassing cloud hanging over you. if you were lucky, maybe he would forget about all of it and let you keep a shred of your dignity. not by a long shot.

"hey, hey, none of that." he chides harshly, using his free hand to grab your jaw and force you to look at him. your heart pounded in your ears as you were forced to stare up into your best friends eyes, and therefore being forced to see his hairy chest in your periphery. he feels your pulse race under his grip. he feels you gulp nervously. he laughs, all husky and hearty from deep in his chest.

he gives your jaw a good squeeze, almost daring you to look away.

when he's sure, and only when he's sure, that you won't move, he lets go of your jaw.

you almost sigh in relief when he lets your jaw go, but that's quickly cut short when he grabs your hand and makes you touch him. anywhere and everywhere.

you gasp as he holds your hand against his chest, feeling him so warm and sturdy underneath your palm. you try and pull your hand away but he just clicks his tongue in disapproval, and that's all it takes for you to get back in line.

as he forces you to touch his chest, you feel every detail you had spent so long staring at. you feel every scar and bruise that littered his skin, every tuft of hair that covered his chest. you could even feel his heartbeat race under your palm.

not long after he had initially yanked your hand to touch him was he now moving your hand down the span of his abs. you could feel every ridge and bump of his abs under your hand, as well as his hair growing thicker the further he moved your hand.

"yeah? ye like that?" he damn near purred in your ear as he watched your expression. he knew you would love him, love his body. he could tell you were enjoying being able to feel him up, no matter how nervous you acted.

speaking of nerves, he made sure to act fast before you yanked your hand away. he might not let you, but still.

"what about.. this?" he whispered in your ear as he finally slipped your hand into his sweatpants and planted your soft hand on his thick, throbbing cock. he heard your breath hitch in shock, but you didn't try to pull your hand away. "mmm, yeah. i knew you'd like my cock."

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

#mw2 x reader #modern warefare 2 x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #soap call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty smut #soap smut #soap x reader #soap x you #soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader

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splataii · 5 months

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toji x male reader

cw: dom male character, sub male reader,

wc 1.5k

freeloader toji who likes to pop in at your place n take a load off whenever he’s in the mood.

no text, no call, no nothing. just him showing up to sleep on your bed, watching his shitty tv shows on your couch after draining your fridge for everything it's worth.

you don't get no chance to say no cause he's way too busy telling you just what an absolute angel you are as he slips through your door. you won't even know he's there, promise. but it’s hard for him to keep such a promise when he’s such a terrible roommate.

he walks around half naked like he owns the place, sweatpants falling so low around his waist that his dick threatens to fall out with every step he takes..

when he feels like being more annoying than usual, he hangs around you, leaning against doorways and faking a yawn or two to stretch so you can catch the outline of his dick, and the way his body flexes.

it makes it hard to look him in the eyes when you're telling him to pull his own weight for the millionth time that week, and he knows it.

“you got a staring problem or what?” he teases, following the way your eyes trace down to the dick print in his loose grey track pants. guys like you are just way too fuckin easy. too flustered to finish, you let him off with a simple warning before leaving him be. but what he really wants is to force ya to quit talking his ear off by getting you on your knees and shoving his cock down your throat. maybe then he could finally put that mouth a yours to good use.

toji also gets so heated about the smallest things, moving you out the way so he can be the one to answer the door to all your one night stands and potential future boyfriends. taking way too much pleasure in how they shrink in on themselves when he sizes them up from the doorway, being terribly sweeter than normal to you with all his pet names and touchiness. it seems like his hand stays glued to your waist no matter how much you pry him off a you.

everytime another guy runs with his tail between his legs, you're pointing the finger at toji, but that man couldn't care less. it’s not his fault they're too pussy. he knows exactly the type a man a doll like you needs and he can give that to you better than any of those little boys ever could.

what's more is he has no sense of personal space. it’s always, “i was just looking for something,”

when he hovers so close you can feel his smile on your neck while you all bent over in the fridge, caged between his arms as his bulge rubs against the small of your back.

or “an accident” when he’s spreading out on your already too small couch and practically forcing you onto his thigh, subtly grinding you against it everytime he moves as his hand slips around your waist and under your shirt. he’s just tryna consolidate space, honest. it ain't his fault he's as big as he is. and it's definitely not his fault you’ve got such a dirty little mind.

and he's such a mess.. clothes, dishes, everything. you find them scattered just about all over the place. the worst offense, however, was a discarded package laying on your living room table. a fleshlight, you realized seconds too late, toji making his grand entrance the moment you're shutting the box closed.

you can tell by the shit eating grin on his face that playing it cool won't cut it, but you try anyway, pretending to get back to tidying up the table as he inches up close behind you.

“i don’t mind sharing,” he breathes, hand hovering on your waist a second too long as he reaches around you for his box, “if you let me watch,”

you stay still, waiting for him to laugh it off and turn back around, but he stays leaning over you.

“youre such a…”

“i’m such a what?” he tilts his head, hand subtly sliding down to the waistband of your pants, massaging where it meets your warm skin. he's rubbing in circles, fingers gently raking up and down your side till they're slipping under your pants.

your eyes trace the veins on his hand as you feel him squeeze at your bare thigh, your underwear hitching farther up as his thumb presses close against your clothed dick. your mind spins every time you feel him inching closer to your soft cock, taking in the thought of him pulling you back into his lap and sliding your pants to your knees so he could take care of you like you deserved. mind falling away, you let yourself lean back into his chest, your hand firmly placed on his arm to ground yourself.

“..or i can always give you the real deal,” he hums your breathe hitching as he gropes at your growing bulge, his words hot on the skin of your neck as you feel his hardening dick grinding against the curve of your ass, “if, that's what his highness prefers,”

you can feel the smirk on his lips as he presses a kiss against the side of your neck, and you blink away whatever trance he had you in.

“dickhead,” you mutter, slipping out of his arms and away from him, pretending not to notice his eyes trained on you as you break away. not once does that stupid smile leave his face as he watches you leave him and his half hard cock alone in the living room.

and that's he worst part of it all.. the worst part a him.. how smug he fucking gets. no matter how much you tell him off, no matter how much he teases you, he knows you can’t never stay mad at him for long. just a few touches in all the right places, a couple spoken promises, and you're like putty in his arms.

it don't matter how much tension you got pent up from his antics; at the end of the day, you're his. and he's always gonna be there to relieve that stress for you the best way he knows how; by bending you over whatever surface is nearest and railing you till you can't think of anything but the shape of his dick stuffed down your ass.

“i was so lonely last night, yknow that?” tojis cock drills into you as you do your best to keep upright against the couch, “left me hard in the living room. had to take care of it all by myself,”

but you been knew that. he made no effort to hide it seeing how loud he was yesterday. you could hear him groaning your name and all the ways he wanted to have you from the comforts of your own bedroom, body hot as you kept your thighs pressed together, waiting for him to finish.

the moment you were back from your shift he was on you, pressing open mouth kisses as he made quick work of stripping you down. he had been waiting for what felt like ages to have all of you underneath him like this, so sweet and pliant in his arms, leaning into his heavy hands. coming undone at his every touch.

“what, nothing to say?” he grunts, grip on your waist tightening as you clench around him, sucking him back in with every thrust, his hands pulling your hips to fuck back into his, “or are you gonna let this ass do all the talking?”

you shake your head, helplessly grinding against the back of the couch as he splits you open on his dick.

“‘s too much,” you cry in between broken moans, burying your face in the nearest pillow in an attempt to hide how good he feels inside you. but he comes to a slow harsh grind of his cock, hands running all up your sides until they're resting on your shoulder.

he pulls you out of your pillow, forcing you to hear the lewd sound of his cock pulling out and leaving you empty. toji grunts, your tight hole not wanting to let go before its clenching around nothing, his pre dripping down the curve of your ass and off your thighs.

you do your best to stay steady on shaky arms, desperate whines muffled by your own hands as you feel him lining up again.

“you can take it sweetheart,” he rasps before ramming back into you, your ass spasming at the harsh thrust of his cock as he stuffs you full. your hand falls away from your lips, unable to hide the moans he rips from you as he pulls out and forces his cock into your ass again and again, making sure that the only thing your body will be able to remember is the shape of him inside you.

“that's it, doll,” he smiles, leaning down to kiss at the tears threatening to fall from your eyes as his strong arms keep you upright, “now let me hear you,”

#splataii writes #ummm so ig it wouldnt be too bad if he stuck around #bottom male reader #male reader insert #male reader smut #x male reader #sub male reader #dom male character #top male character #male reader #toji fushiguro #toji x male reader

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neocrias · 8 days

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Hiii, how are you going?? (I hope fine).

I was thinking about this a few days ago and didn't hear back, but how do you think SVT members would try to flirt? Like, in a more sensual way, you know??

Hey, sorry for the delay, busy schedule and stuff... We weren't sure if this was what you wanted, so we did it like this. You can send another message if it's different from this.

How does svt flirt

warnings: descriptions; headcanons; gn (mostly) reader self insert;

pairings: svt x gn reader

gender/aus: fluff; slightly suggestive

Scoups

He's a total show-off. During the meeting, gathering, party, or whatever you're at, he just won't let you look at anyone else, because he'll make sure he's saying something, looking or being more attractive. Cheol will flex his muscles if it makes you pay attention only to him, and when (not “if”, when!) he catches you looking at him with those hooded eyes, he's gonna raise his thick eyebrows in pure arrogance. Seungcheol can't help it, he knows how he looks like, and he'll always use that in his favor.

Jeonghan

Probably, if Jeonghan is really invested into taking you tonight, he'll start making sly comments. "Oh, poor you, not really enjoying the party, hm?" "Bet you'll enjoy something else more..." or maybe just "I could give you some fun". I mean, being a bit mischieveous is one of the things he does best, so he's absolutely playing that game when it comes to flirting too. Probably plays a lot with his own hair in front of you. Probably is going to play a lot with your hair, too.

Joshua

Slight eyebrow movements, inumerous hand gestures, a lot of leaning towards you. Joshua is just a master of body language and he will certainly make good use of that when he wants you. Of course you'll notice when he's suddenly very close, almost towering over you, but it'll be so subtle that you won't be able to point out when exactly that happened. That, combined with his swift hand gestures as he speaks, as well as the soft tone he's using with you will do it. At this point, it's just natural for him to flirt like that.

Jun

Will absolutely use his good boy persona to get it. I'm talking gentleman acts but full of an unusual confidence that makes anyone's heart flutter. He will do all those manly acts such as opening your bottle and the door of the car, and he will certainly say some romantic things, pointing out how incredibly beautiful you are. Jun might as well just pull up a Romeo card out of his sleeve and say that your eyes are sparkling and all that stuff. Next thing you know, you're in his bed. Guess all that smooth talk worked on you, ha.

Hoshi

Do you like stereotypes? Well… I love it and will follow Hoshi’s biggest stereotype. he will take you dancing and will make sure your bodies are as close as possible. You will be able to feel his breath hitting your neck and Hoshi will make sure to brush his lips against your cheek to make you shiver – I won’t even mention how tightly he presses his hands against your hips…

Wonwoo

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Wonwoo is a romantic guy. BUT he’s also a low-key guy. I don’t see Wonwoo being the biggest fan of pda, so maybe he’ll slip his hand into your back pocket, pulling you closer to him, your shoulders bumping against his as he subtly nuzzles into you and leaves a peck or two on your cheek and shoulder. You’ll know he’s needy the moment you feel his arms snake around your back.

Woozi - (edited)

Don't ever mistake Jihoon's quietness with lack of attitude. He's the type to be certain about what he wants - and who he wants. So, when trying to flirt, Woozi will probably be very direct and straightfoward. He'll also stay close to you, making you feel his whole presence - and is likely to give you compliments throughout the night, from the most subtle to the most heartstopping ones.

Dokyeom

He'll wrap his arms around your shoulders, pulling you against him, and he'll leave lots (LOTS) of kisses on your face. At first, they'll be spaced out pecks on your cheek, but little by little they'll become more frequent and will move down to your neck and shoulder. Dokie seems innocent, but he knows exactly what to do and where to kiss to get what he wants, and he'll smile brightly when he sees your eyes flutter.

Mingyu

He's into the physical type of flirting, so if Mingyu wants you, he's gonna make you know it. His hands will grip your tights pulling you closer to him. His fingers will run along the thin skin of your thigh, scraping his nails to make your skin crawl and give you goosebumps. He'll do this until you show him that you're just as needy as he is, so it won't be hard for you to agree to go home early.

Minghao

I think Minghao might pull an intelligent and collected act in front of you. Of course he wants to impress, and he knows it'll do. He'll start saying some incredibly smart things, and he'll love to see your slightly admired face as he explains something - because it'll mean it's working. Or, if you're able to keep up with his sharp and precise comments, he might as well just fall in love at the spot. Either way, he's getting it.

Seungkwan

You'll know Seungkwan wants something when he starts teasing you more. He'll pinch your waist, push his knee against yours, and stare... He'll try really hard to irritate you because (according to him) you look beautiful when you're angry and when you get tired and finally make a move, the make out sessions always get... better.

Vernon

I'm a strong defender of the Vernon whispering type of flirt. He just knows how to scan the room and he'll know when is the right time to take you quietly and subtly to the side, soft touches and an attentive glare as he licks his lips. When you're both out of others' sights, he'll lean in and whisper softly in your ear. Maybe some "you look so beautiful tonight" or maybe a more direct "should we go somewhere else?". It's effective, it's discreet, and it's hella sexy. Just like him.

Dino

I think Chan might be the type to directly flirt, like, be really honest towards the fact that he wants you. However, he won't do the chasing. As soon as he makes himself clear, he'll give you space and wait for you to reciprocate. He just loves to have you going for him, and to know that he made such an impact that he just left you there, overthinking and wanting him so much that you ended up taking some initiative yourself.

#'svt x reader #svt scenarios #svt fluff #svt smut #seventeen #svt imagines #svt headcanons #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt x you #svt reactions #seventeen reactions #svt angst #slightly suggestive #svt reader #svt x reader

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artinvain · 2 months

Note

big mean lawyer abby tying her belt around readers thighs to secure a vibrator.. maybe some overstim action… idk i trust you’ll make this good :P

your honour my clients need abby anderson smut or they will die!

cw: daddy usage, sub space, overstim, rope play, fingering, mean!abby, aftercare

men, minors, ageless blogs dni or follow

abby looks so pretty with her glasses balancing on the tip of her nose, eyes straining as she studies her case, looking over her defendants files and you know you should take this seriously and give her space. but the way her arm flexes so subtly as she moves her arm

“I can hear you sweetheart,” abby sighs, “you’re rubbing your thighs together on the squeaky floorboard — are you doing that on purpose?” abby turns to you, pushing the glasses up her nose and biting at lip at the sight of you.

“you look pretty,” she smirks at your tiny shorts and her button up falling off your shoulder, “abby,” you whine and she rolls her eyes. “nuh- uh, baby you know I have to work.”

you pad over in socked feet and take Abby’s hands as she sighs, placing them at the top of your ass so she can feel your lace panties. “maybe you need a break,” you whisper into her ear and go to kiss her neck but abby inhales through her teeth and pulls your head back from her neck by your hair.

“you need to stop, I’m busy,” abby kisses your forehead and gets back to work even as you pout at her. you cook, come around to give her food and pushing your breasts in her face. you try to watch a movie but you get to finicky half way through and moan out loud to no reaction. all you can think about is abby’s hands all over your body, kissing down your chest - your nipples in her mouth. you can’t help but groan low at the thought.

“abby-“

you sigh, walking towards her as she turns in her chair to face you. “god you’re fucking pathetic,” abby stands and pulls you in - kissing you and cradling your head so she can lick and suck your tongue the way she wants. her other hand roams to your ass to smack you.

“baby go fucking play with yourself,” she groans and you clench your jaw as she leaves you standing to sit back down. play with yourself. you turn to your bedroom.

abby hears you rifling around and then nothing. she settles into working again until she hears a low hum and the vibrator slicking through your folds.

abby groans, a stomping into the room “you stupid slut,” she spits and clambers onto the bed grabbing the hitachi wand from you and slapping your wet cunt open and on display for her “you told me to-“

“I told you to? I told you to fucking break my rules?” your giggle turns into a moan as abby presses the vibrator to your clit and chuckles “yeah, play with myself” you mumble and she mutters and pulls her belt off.

abby closes your thighs around the vibrator and handles it so it’s buzzing on your clit. “here, play all you fucking want,” she moans as your back arches while she ties her belt around your thighs, the leather pressing hard into your skin. “desperate fucking bitch,” she moans kissing your forehead, “just so needy for me yeah?” abby squeezes your cheeks, puckering your lips and spiting on them.

“swallow- you move, you don’t cum for a week,” abby says and you’re moaning hands clutching the sheets as you tightenyour thighs around the vibrator. abby comes back with rope, soft and pink as she ties your legs together and then your wrists. and then she’s playing with your pretty nipples - stiffening them and you moan out as you feel a cool clamp on both of your nipples.

“look so pretty like this - can’t want to come back and see you all fucked out,” she mumbles into your neck, placing a kiss there and twisting and pinching your nipples as you whine.

“abby no no please don’t leave -“ you cry out as she chuckles and gets back to her desk. she’s swallowing hard and rubbing at her cunt hearing you squeak and moan just down the hall. all she can hear is you moaning and wiggling on the bed, “abby please, feels so good - wanna touch you,” you babble.

so touch starved even the sheets feel good. rubbing against you, your nipples perked and sensitive - “abby m’gonna cum fuck- please please,” you gasp out, trying and failing to hold back as you cum, the wand pressing against your cunt as you turn over and bite your pillows.

“s’okay angel you can cum for me,” she moans forcing herself to focus on her work before she cums in her pants. “abby, want you to touch me - need your hands on me,” you whine out, thinking about her hands rubbing all over your body setting your skin on fire.

your brain high on your orgasm and you can’t stop whining out because the vibrator is fucking you through your orgasm and the more you move to more it rubs into every part of your sensitive pussy.

“want your fingers, and your c-cock, wanna suck you off abs-“ your back arches and your head pushes hard into the pillows below you. your head spinning and getting cloudy as you’re pulled closer to your edge again.

abby curses herself - not being able to touch you is more torturous for her than she can bare - but then she listens, really listens and you’re fucking crying. abby’s palm rubbing on her clit as she groans, brows furrowed as she listens to you beg for her.

“daddy,” you groan out loudly followed by babbles of praise and blasphemy “yeah, daddy feels good god - please I’ll be so good, such a good girl,” you cry out as you cum again and so does abby shaking and making a fucking wet spot in her boxers. abby stands and stomps toward your bedroom, your pretty face reddened and wet with tears that stain the pillows below you along with your drool.

“can’t daddy - I can’t”

“yes you can sweet girl,” abby moans as she holds your close and kisses your face, so drunk she can tell you’re head is far up in the clouds, “daddy,” you moan,

“m’here, just feel good for me - my stupid fucking needy girl,” she moans turning the vibrator up as you grip her shirt and yell,

“I know baby, fuck that must feel good huh? why don’t you cum for me?”

you cum burying your face in her neck and biting down on her shoulder as you cum again. she unties you quicker than you can register in this state and “fuck oh my god you’re all swollen for me,” abby moans, sinking two fingers in and kissing your overstimulated clit. licking and sucking the puffy bundle of nerves into her mouth and curling her fingers into you as your eyes roll back and you grab for her shoulders.

“feels so good - fuck fuck,” you cry into her shoulder kissing and biting at her neck, abby tugs at the chains on your nipples and you cum, pressing her face into your neck.

“good girl, aw you did you so well sweet pea,” abby kisses your face and mouth and eyes and cheeks as she eases her fingers out of you and sucks on them groaning as you fall limp in her arms.

“god you’re an angel - you look so pretty all fucking drunk for me,” she moans, pulling you onto her chest as you babble and moan. her hands rubbing soothingly over your body. “daddy,” you whine and abby kisses your face squeezing you tight.

“m’right here honey, it’s okay, you did so good — you’re such a good girl.” she sighs laying back on the bed stroking your hair.

“you sounded so pretty darling, my good girl,” she mutters into your temple.

😗🏷️ @lesbian-useless @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @lavendersgirl @bimboprincezz @emiliabby

#lesbian #18+ mdni #lesbian smut #abby tlou smut #men dni #abby anderson smut #nsft lesbian #mdni #abby tlou

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hierarchyproblem · 9 months

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I used to volunteer at a charity that gave out food to homeless people on the evenings. They got a lot of donations - excess stock from the amazon warehouse, that kind of thing - so they also distributed supplies to homeless shelters and womens' shelters and stuff. My job was loading and unloading the vans, sorting donations, and cleaning the big warehouse that they rented. I got on especially well with one of the other guys there; he was an old-school anarchist and a wilderness outdoors type who spent half his time living out of a tent in the middle of nowhere in Scotland, so he had stories and shit. I think he was in a kind of long-term homeless-by-choice situation; when he wasn't up in his mountains sometimes he'd squat in the warehouse and store his stuff there while he was between other accomodation. The charity was cool with that, he'd been with them for a long time and they knew the deal and they had the space.

Except one day one of the directors or whatever came down and threw his shit out onto the street and told him to be gone by the end of the day or he'd call the police. No idea what precipitated that and I never saw this guy again. Writing this out it seems insane: surely he must've done something to precipitate that? Nobody so much as suggested that at the time. I heard what had happened from one of the drivers, and he said the fucked up thing about it was that this chair of trustees (or whatever his role was) was prestigious and well-off enough he could've got any hotel in the city to put this bloke up indefinitely just by asking! But he chose to fuck up this guy's living situation as far as I could tell just to flex his property rights.

I always knew, obviously, that charity is at best a superfical treatment only of the symptoms of capitalist society, and totally orthogonal to the revolutionary change that'd be needed to actually fix the social and economic problems of this shitty society. Of course. But this is what opened my eyes to how much abuse and exploitation goes within the charity sector itself. This is the worst I've heard of, but the same principles are rife: poor conditions, long hours, ducking your workplace rights if you're "just helping out occasionally," poor pay for paid staff and volunteers treated like they're disposable. It shows too how easily a charity for homeless people can end up writing off the people they're set up to help, especially if they refuse to passively accept the little that's on offer. Not every charity has all of these problems, but a lot have at least some. And the guys at the top end up running it like a business 'cause that's how everything's expected to be run; if you've got upper-management experience that's how you see the world.

I don't volunteer there anymore and I'd think very carefully before giving any of these organisations your time or your money. There's homeless people in your area I bet - give them your cash directly and spend the time chatting with them if they like.

#draft purge

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stratuspropertygroup · 5 months

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Atlanta Flex Spaces

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smartworksoffice · 8 months

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Before we discuss its advantages, it’s essential to understand Managed Office Space. Usually, it provides business entities with a complete package of furnished goods, amenities, and other utilities. One can find a direct correlation between the rise of startups in India and the increased adoption of flex spaces.

#flex space #smartworks #commercial office space #business #fully furnished

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eupheme · 4 months

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— mine, all mine

cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 4.2k

tags: jealous!cooper, sort-of alternate timeline (includes a fo4 character for fun), partners-with-benefits, mutual yearning, light angst, fingering, oral sex, one pussy slap, come marking

prompt: something where he's possessive and jealous. anything that would cause a man like The Ghoul to get jealous. He needs to remind everyone (including her) who she belongs to.

Cooper doesn’t take kindly to the man you picked up, even if he himself had made the deal to escort him to New Vegas. Not liking their old-world charm, that easy smile. Can’t be up to any good, and he hates that you might be falling for it.

It has him thinking that he just might have to remind you of a few things. Set you straight. Make sure you don’t forget who you belong to.

You can’t help the little laugh that bubbles in your throat, as you follow through the door at Cooper’s heels.

Seeking shelter for the night, after a long day on the road. Something different than the usual bounty. Escorting a man through the Mojave Wasteland, to New Vegas. Following another lead, they had said.

He had seemed capable enough, but didn’t know the area. His home was far to the east, not used to the harsh desert sun, the creatures that lurked here. A heavy bag of caps offered that neither one of you could say no to. Enough to buy a couple months worth of vials, and that meant more to you than anything.

“No shit. It really worked?” You glance back at the man from over your shoulder. The handle of your gun a familiar weight in your hand, as you check the hallways after your partner, “You really were him, costume and everything?”

“The Silver Shroud, in the flesh.” Nate flashes you a straight, white-toothed smile, “Calling cards and everything.”

Your head shakes in amazement. He was interesting - full of stories that didn’t seem possible to be true. Leader of the Minutemen. A retired veteran from before - or so he tells you.

Hard to believe such a thing could be true. It has you distracted - your boot catching on an overturned side table, a set of chairs.

A little yelp as you tilt off-balance. The Ghoul turning, a gloved hand stretching out out - but there’s already another at the small of your back, another at your elbow.

“Careful now, sugarbomb.” Nate huffs in your ear, steadying you until you catch your balance.

It has heat flaring in your cheeks - at his words and how you embarrassed yourself in front of both of them. Ignoring the hand, and winding yourself free, giving the mess of furniture a wide berth instead of stepping over as they did.

“Did you hear about him on the radio?” You ask Cooper instead, trying to change the subject.

Instead of an answer, the Ghoul gives you a rough grunt. Turning away from you, fingers tracing over the thick bullets lined up in his bandolier.

“Gonna sweep the second floor.” He rasps, “Stay put, alright?”

He must not have heard you, too busy concentrating on clearing the space.

You nod, a little flutter in your belly at his words as he leaves you. A hint of protection in them, layered deep. He hadn’t spoken much since he picked up this job. Eyes always watchful, fingers curled around the handle of his gun.

But you didn’t think there was anything too dangerous about Nate. He seemed nice - filling the space that you leave for him with his stories. The days traveling has been spent quickly, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry when you hear how he’d lost everything.

His wife, and his son. Waking up after it was all over - alone.

You wonder how he could press on, be so cheerful now. But you suppose someone could learn to shoulder a lot, after so many years had passed.

It has you shivering, in the old apartment. Thick brick walls - the radiators are long dead, the cold seeping through the cracks in the window panes.

“Hey.” You hear behind you. Nate’s shoulders flexing as he peels his leather bomber jacket off, fingers hooking under the collar as he holds it out to you.

The worn vault suit underneath clings tight to his chest. Silver threading through his dark hair, peppering his beard at the curve of his chin. Handsome, in an old-world way - something you haven’t been able to help noticing.

Not that you’re interested.

It’s only because he makes you think of him, a little. The same strange way of saying things. Phrases you don’t know from your time growing up in the wasteland.

And you can’t pretend you haven’t wondered, just a tiny bit. What Cooper might have been like, before.

Part of you had thought that would make them a little more friendly - that point of connection between them - but the Ghoul has been wrapped up in thorns for days now.

Distant even, but you think you get it. Suppose he thinks it’s safer, this way.

“Oh,” It takes you a second to accept his offering. Not used to generosity without a price. A soft sigh when you shrug it on - the fabric warmed by his body heat, “Thank you. Are you sure? It’s just, these old buildings-”

“This is almost warm compared to where I come from,” He smiles, shooting you a wink, “Least I can do, with what you’re doing for me.”

There’s a sweep of his eyes, as your hands slip through the sleeves - a considering tilt of his head, “Looks better on you, anyways.”

The compliment sends an uneasy ripple across your skin, a warm heat in your cheeks. His easy charm sets you on edge - not used to words and tones like his. Not knowing what to do with it - your eyes flicking towards the staircase.

There’s a pause, before he’s inhaling a breath.

“Listen. About your… associate,” Nate takes a step towards you, his voice lowering, “I don’t know if you owe him caps or something, but if you need to split, you’re welcome to come with me.”

It stuns you for a second. How he thinks you might need help, that you’re indebted.

“Oh!” You manage - that eye contact breaking, as you search for words, “I’m not. We’re actually, uh-”

But you don’t have a straight answer. Involved, perhaps. You wouldn’t say together, as much as you wished it would be. Companions is too soft a word for the path you travel together.

His word - associate - too formal.

“Really?” Nate’s voice tips up - just before his eyes dip down you and back up, in a quick circuit, “Huh. Good for him, then.”

The silence that lingers is stilted. His hands raise, with the lift of your brow.

“Didn’t mean any harm,” He adds, easily, “Just, if you change your mind… it’d be good to have you on the road with me.”

Leaving you then - letting the offer hang as he pokes around in the side rooms.

Another thing that you had found fascinating - the junk that he carries with him. Not just old tape but bottles of adhesive, cans of oil. Broken hot plates, all tucked into his bag.

Your head shakes, as you move deeper.

Winding your way into the kitchen, picking through broken cabinets - snatching up cans of cram. Ending up in a study, through another door.

Books spill from the shelves. There’s an old, deep desk bumped up near a wall, the upholstered chair toppled over next to it.

A few of the novels catch your eye - nose dipping to inhale the familiar, musty smell of the pages as you crouch. Thumbing through them, trying to pick one or two to keep.

Engrossed enough that you don’t hear the creak of boots on wood. The low jangle of spurs, until the door is closing shut behind you.

There’s a slow, upward pull of your eyes, until you see the way he looms over you - eyes narrowing. A hard set to his jaw, a hand that curls around your bicep as he tugs you up and onto your feet.

“Something wrong?” You ask, as you catch the pull of his brow bone, “With the house, is it safe?”

“House’s fine,” He grits. A hand tracing up the zipper of the jacket, curling around the collar.

The frown deepens, as his eyes drag over you, “You take this off the Vaultie?”

Your eyebrows raise, “I didn’t take it off him. He gave it to me because I was cold.”

He clicks his tongue at that, one side of his lip curling. Stepping into your space, until you’re bumping up against that desk.

“Can’t leave you alone for a goddamn minute, can I?” Cooper growls.

Fingers tracing up your sides until they’re fitting beneath the fabric at your shoulders, pushing the worn leather from them.

“What do you mean?” You frown - letting him. The evening chill isn’t so bad in here, the room tucked deeper into the house. No windows to let the evening air in.

“You know exactly what I mean, sugarbomb.” He drawls, acid in his tone, “Smoothie can’t keep his hands off you.”

The jacket pools on the desk, a flick of his wrist sending it to the floor. You don’t know why the Ghoul is so angry - not when he’s made it clear this something between you is just a diversion.

Nothing more than business mixing with pleasure.

“It’s not like that.” You protest, though your mind flickers back to before. Cheeks burning as you shift back, but follows - crowding you, “He’s looking for his son.”

It has your hip pressing against a desk, his own fitting against yours. Hands flattening against the top of the desk, as he leans over you.

“Lookin’ to get his dick wet, more like.” His words are a low growl, “‘Sides, is that all it takes you get you starry-eyed? Fella lookin’ for his kid?”

There’s something in the way he says it. A tick in his jaw, the way his tone pushes at you. Needling deep, as if there’s something more to what he’s saying.

Your arms prop on your hips, “I’m not starry-eyed-”

“Aren’t you?” His head cocks, “You gonna be keepin’ his bedroll warm tonight, sweetheart?”

There’s mockery in his tone. A curl of his lip and bared teeth, all while his eyes catalog each and every expression.

Your hands press against his chest then, scoffing. Yes, Nate had flirted with you. Said you could come with him, but surely that wasn’t the reason why.

Was it?

“That’s ridiculous,” It comes out flustered, unconvincing, “He was married, he’s not-”

The Ghoul shifts, his hands fitting against your hips. Pushing, until you’re sitting on top of the desk, thighs spread so he can fit between them. Distracting you, though his look is no less fierce.

“That don’t mean much, sweetie,” He growls, “Key word here is was. Not gonna keep him from tryin’, I’ll tell you that much.”

And you think you get it now. His raised hackles from the very beginning, when Nate’s hand curled around yours.

Maybe he’d burn right up, if he had heard your conversation. You wonder if he caught any - drifting up through the floorboards. Sending him right down to you, to stake his claim.

It has you softening. Fingers hooking around the thick leather of his belt, tugging him flush.

“He can try all he wants, cowboy,” You shrug, looking at him from beneath your lashes, “It’s not gonna sway me. Was just being nice because he was.”

“Nice.” He echos, as his hands slip up to your waist. Fingers curling in the folds of your shirt, rocking you against him, “That what you think you want, sweetheart?”

There’s the dip of his head, and your eyes are closing. But he just hovers, close enough that you can feel the exhale of his breath. A jerk of his head when your chin tips up, seeking him.

“You think nice is gonna take care of you the way I do?” His hand drifts up - fitting at the curve of your ribs. Thumb brushing at your breast, as you suck in a breath.

“What are you doing?” You breathe, as your eyes open. A shiver at how close he is, how his crotch presses right against the seam of your pants.

His answer is a low rasp.

“Remindin’ you of a couple o’ things.”

There’s a familiarity in the way his other hand dips down. Those hazel eyes are still on yours, as he gives the button on your pants a sharp tug. A soft slide of the zipper.

Your fingers curl, holding on tightly. Anticipation sings in you, melding with the sharp flutter of nerves.

“W-We can’t,” It comes out as a stammer - your concentration torn. “He’s still-”

The Ghoul’s hand leaves you, but it’s only so his teeth can sink into the tip of a leather glove - the jerk of his head to pull his hand free. Already coming back to you, giving the fabric of your pants a sharp tug downwards.

“‘s cute you think I give a shit.” He husks - his eyes dark, as he jerks his chin towards your hips.

They seem to move on their own. A hum of approval as they lift - so he can tug both layers down to your ankles, leaving them to tangle with your boots.

His hands are warm as they trace back up your bare thighs. Soothing the chill - forever warmed by the radiation that lingers in him. Your thighs spread wider without thought, though his fingers linger.

Tracing the soft skin, just where your thigh meets hip. Close enough that surely he can feel the heat that lingers there - the scrape of his nails against sensitive skin sending up goosebumps, as his tongue pinches between teeth.

Eyes caught on how easily you open for him. The way you clench in anticipation, shifting into his touch.

Another protesting whimper falls from your lips, the ghost of a smile as his eyes flip up to yours.

“You’re gonna tell me you don’t want this,” His thumb twitches against you, ghosting along your slit, “When I can see you practically droolin’ for me?”

He lifts his hand for emphasis, casually examining the sheen that coats the pad of his thumb. Head cocked as he waits - dragging it slowly along the flat of his tongue.

“I do want it,” It’s hushed, though no less needy.

His tongue peeks out again. Pinched between teeth, before ghosting across a lower lip - the taste of you lingering. You expect him to bend you over the table, or lay you back against it.

Instead, his fingers pluck the hat from his head. Dropping it onto yours, the brim distorting your view as he bends. Crouching - his left knee pressing into the floorboards, as he situates himself between your thighs.

It has your breath hitching. Another exploration of his fingers, thumb pressing against your folds. Tugging you open, examining you, just like he’d do for a piece of found scrap.

Heat floods through you. There’s no mistaking that he’s still calling every shot, even when he’s on his knees.

“Then answer my question.” His voice takes on a sharp edge, those eyes back on yours, “You think he could give you what you need?”

From here, you can see the pretty fan of his eyelashes. The flecks of gold and green in his brown eyes, each little pitted scar and shiny stretch of skin.

Your head shakes.

“No.” Your thighs inch wider - hips bucking into his touch, “Only you, Cooper.”

He growls at the sound of his name, his hand coming to cup against your cunt. Fingers insistent, where they nudge at your opening. The tips of two sinking into your heat, ripping a muffled gasp from you.

A low hum, when he feels how wet you are. How you wrap so warm and tightly around him - an obscene sound as he presses them deep.

Unable to hide how he affects you, not when the pace picks up, until the heel of his hand is grinding against your clit. Until you’re dripping against his palm.

Your moan is bitten back. Fingers curling around the edge of the desk, needing something to hold onto.

His pace is steady, but he’s just teasing. Fingers merely filling you, stretching you out. No careful curl - just bringing you to hover on a plateau, leaving you to clench around him with desperation.

“Please,” You whine.

Relief then, as his fingers hook. Dragging against your spongy inner wall, as you whimper in approval.

“Yeah?” He hums - watching how your brows pinch, when his fingers flex again, “Change your mind about gettin’ fucked, honey?”

Teeth clicking together with your bitten-back whine, needing to feel more than just the unhurried crook of his fingers.

“Yes. I need more,” Your hips lift with your answer - bucking into his touch, “Need your cock, Cooper. I’ve missed it-”

A dirty trick, to use his name again.

To beg, like this.

He knows it, a heartbeat lingering before his fingers begin to move with purpose. The tilt of his head, and then - his tongue is flattening against your slit. Giving you something else, instead.

You cry out before you remember where you are - your hand quick to press against your mouth to muffle the sound.

He groans at the taste of you, as it floods his tongue. A dark glitter in his eyes, you think he did this on purpose. Trying to pull those sounds from you.

This thought solidified as he begins to devour you. Licking you from clit to hole, dipping between his knuckles. Working the muscle in until he can feel you clench around it too, his own groan caught in his throat. Coming back up - lips wrapping around the tight bud as you gasp, nails biting into wood as you moan.

Ones you still try to hide. Your breath sharp through your nose, palm pressed flat against your mouth. But it doesn’t stop the squeak of the desk as your hips move. The sticky plunge of his fingers, the wet lap of his tongue.

Something molten pooling inside you, red-hot. He knows how much you can take, how the stretch of his fingers slips into something honey-sweet.

His head rears back, as his eyes open. A sharp click of his tongue, before his left hand curls like a vice around your wrist. Capturing the other - fingers spreading wide as he pins them against your belly.

A smirk that grows wider - more sinister - when you realize you won’t be able to hide your sounds any longer. When all you can do is accept what he gives you.

“Oh, don’t hold back, sweetheart.” He coos - a rough breath, as he sees your jaw grit, eyes screwing shut, “Want him to hear just what I’m doin to you.”

A tilt of his head - slow in the way he returns to you. A pointed thrust of his fingers, another one slipping into you. Tongue flicking lazily, before spit is pooling on his tongue.

Pressing his fingers deep, as it falls from his lips. Dripping down your slit, before he’s sucking on your clit again.

The keen that pulls from you is loud. Drawn-out, your breath hissed through your teeth.

He grins into your cunt, the words murmured against your skin, “That’s more like it. Atta girl.”

Taking, as he gives.

Guilt lingers in you - thinking about Nate, wandering in the house. Hearing the muted moans and cries as you’re devoured against the desk. It has your lips pressing harder together, though it does nothing to mute the pleasure that winds higher and higher.

But he notices. Of course he does - fingers slipping free, curling against your clit before he’s pinching it between his fingertips. Teeth nipping at your inner thighs, marks blooming against your skin.

Another cry loosens, as your hips jerk.

“Now I know you want my cock, sweetheart. Asked for it so nicely, after all,” He husks, as his head tips up, “But you’re not gettin’ it till later.”

A threat and a promise, layered in the heavy pant of his breath.

“Plan on takin’ you by the fire. From three feet away, if I have to,” His smile is near-feral, “Let him hear how pretty your pussy sounds taking me. Knowin’ he can’t touch.”

You moan at his words. At the pet of his fingers - each breath short, growing louder as he brings you close to the edge. Keyed up enough over the past few days - leaving you desperate.

And you think that maybe - he just might be as well. It’s there in the way his shoulders curl in. The spread and rock of his own thighs, where you can see the tent of his hard cock.

That desire to make you come tipping into something that feels like need.

“You know why he can’t?” He coaxes, his words a slow drawl.

His fingers flattening when you’re slow to answer - pleasure-drunk, landing a harsh tap against your cunt that has you gasping in shock.

“Because…” You search for the words, grasping at their hazy shapes, “Because I’m yours.”

It comes so easily, the things you’ve thought but never said.

His knees shift, hips tilting on their own. A rough sound in his throat, as he watches how your lips form the words.

“That’s right,” Cooper coos, “Good fuckin’ girl. Knowing who she belongs to.”

It does something to you. That desire blooming into something tangible, racing from your thoughts to the needy throb of your clit.

He can hear the change in your breath. How it pitches high, drawn out. No longer holding it back - unable to, as your vision starts to go hazy.

“You liked that, sweetheart? Knowin’ that you’re owned?” He rasps, “Fuckin’ close, aren’t you. Gonna come?”

“Yes,” You chant, “Make me come. Cooper, please-”

His hand leaves your wrists - your palms curling into his jacket as he loosens his own belt. Fist wrapping around his cock as his tongue replaces the swirl of his fingers.

A whine - loud, in the quiet room - when those three fingers sink deep again, filling you. Only a few deep plunges of of his fingers before your breath is catching, eyes going wide.

The cry catches in your throat, coming out ragged. Unmistakable for anything else, as your pussy tightens around him - that thudding beat that starts low, rippling through you.

Pulsing against his tongue. Stealing your strength, leaving you boneless as your fingers anchor themselves against his shoulders.

He groans into your cunt, as he feels you gush against his palm. The way he can taste your release as it leaks against his knuckles, his tongue dipping down to taste.

Greedy again, with his gaze. Fixed on how wrecked you are - rumpled clothes, how you’re still speared on his fingers, thighs slick with need.

No one else can ruin you so thoroughly. You both know it - it’s enough that he lets go, chasing his own end. An unsteady push to his feet, as his fingers slip free.

His other hand flattening against your abdomen, pushing you back against the desk. A messy twist of his fist, seeing the gape his fingers left behind - that tension twisting, about to snap in his own belly.

His cock is coated in your release, when he comes. A feral snarl as his fist jerks - harkening back to your first few nights together. Back when he held back from spilling inside you, the vials too precious to spend on a stranger.

Fingers twitching against your belly, keeping you pinned as his own moan slips through his teeth. A needy buck of his hips into the tight curl of his hand, a cruel mockery of where he imagines it buried. But it’s enough - another rough sound before ropes of his spend arc across your mound.

Warm against your skin, as he covers you. Dripping down against your slit when he angles himself, making a mess of your slick pussy.

It already has anticipation simmering, deep inside. Unsure if he was being serious about later - but the thought of him taking you nice and slow, drawing it out - you might not be able to ever look Nate in the eye, but christ, it could be worth it.

Though something hangs heavy, as he comes back down. His head lowers from where it tipped back in pleasure. The slow drag of the tip of a finger through his release, glossy against your skin, before he finds the hem of your underwear. Tugging it back into place as you whine in protest.

“Hush, now.” He coos - stroking you over the thin fabric. Seeing how his come seeps in. A teasing circle against your clit, before his palm presses flush. Smearing himself against your cunt.

Staking a claim, you think. He’s always let you clean up before. And this isn’t a punishment, though the wait will be torture.

Fingers smooth the faded fabric when he’s content, his radiation-reddened fingers fitting against the soft curves of your hips.

And, maybe now you understand.

“I’m not going to leave you, you know.”

It’s quiet, breathed out as you gaze up at him.

He almost flinches. A different kind of shudder that runs through him, fingers pinching hard where they dent your flesh.

“You should,” His jaw grits. Voice low, the words coming out hoarse, “If you had any sense.”

But you both know you have none. Not when it comes to him.

Your hands fit in his, as he tugs you off the table. The snug fit of your pants as you tug them back into place, already feeling how he sticks against your skin.

Thoroughly marked. Unable to help the clench as you think about later - missing the fullness of his fingers already. A wobble to your legs - a hazy remnant from your orgasm - as you right yourself, fitting everything back into its place. Before stooping, to grab the jacket off the floor.

Cooper’s hand reaches out - fingers beckoning. His own duster already shrugging off his shoulders. Bundled up, as he holds it aloft.

“You get cold again, you tell me.”

It’s gruff. An offering, with the extension of his hand. Swapping the bomber jacket for his. The worn fabric enveloping you as you tug it on, that greedy look seeping back as he takes in how you look in his things.

A little nod, before he’s turning - making for the door.

Leaving you to follow behind, hiding your smile.

this started a couple different ways (flirting with a bounty or with a bartender) but I thought it would be interesting to have Cooper in a situation with a genuinely good guy (Nate is the MMC in FO4 if you choose his route!) because that would surely and truly drive him nuts (rip what a couple to join up with) 💖 thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed!

edit: the companion fic is here - this scenario with them picking up Nora and Reader being the jealous one!

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you

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jobean12-blog · 3 months

Text

The Last Time We Say Goodbye

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 1,604

Summary: It's only recently that you and Joel have been more that just friends so when he has to go out on a search with Tommy it leaves you with nothing but time to think...

Author's Note: I missed him and wanted something desperate but soft! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy!

Warnings: some light angst at Joel being away, tension, soft sweetness, soft smut, oral (f rec), p in v, a curse or two

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The time away had only made things more complicated.

You felt frustrated. You were spending far too much time thinking of him. Missing him. Worrying about him.

Your time together was always on your mind, and you had dreams of him almost nightly, none of them satisfying enough.

There was no way he could ever give you a precise time for his return. You couldn’t even be sure that he would return. But somehow, on that cool summer evening, while you’re sitting on the porch, mindlessly swaying back and forth on the rocking chair he built, you hear a commotion by the gates and you know the group is back.

You can only hope he’s with them.

Standing, you take a deep breath and try to calm the butterflies in your stomach. The sound of pounding hooves has your fingers twisting and you stand on your tippy toes to get a better look at the riders.

You don’t see him and you’re breathing quickens. Starting to pace back and forth you will your mind to stop racing and your heartbeat to calm. Without thinking, you stop mid step and turn toward the oncoming group, searching through the familiar faces for the one you want.

Your breath catches in your throat when a head of familiar, gray-streaked brown hair appears. There he is, looking better than you’d ever seen him. How…after two weeks on the road does someone come back looing better?

His hair is a tousled mess of curls as usual, no doubt from his large hands running through it regularly. His long legs hang over either side of the horse, muscles flexed and straining against his tight jeans. In the warmer weather, his shirt is unbuttoned at the neck and his sleeves rolled up over his forearms.

He looks tired and his beard is more unkempt than usual, but that’s not what has your body thrumming. His eyes have been searching the area, but the moment they meet yours, his lips lift into a smile and before you can stop it, you feel your own grow, wide and relieved.

With ease, he slides from the horse and takes a few long strides to meet you out in the middle of the road. His features grow tense while you both wait for the other to speak.

“Hi,” you say quietly, trying to ease some of the apprehension between you.

“Hiya darlin’,” he answers.

“Are you ok?” you ask, letting your eyes roam down his body in search of injuries.

He pauses for a moment before answering.

“I am now.”

There are people bustling around you, loved ones searching for each other and cries of greeting ringing out, but the only thing you can focus on is the growing tension and every inch of space that separates you.

Someone rushes by and bumps into you, pushing you toward him. His hand instinctively lands on your waist to steady you and you look up to find him staring.

Your skin heats at the familiar look of hunger in his eyes. You mutter “thank you,” and look away.

“You must be thirsty? Hungry?”

He nods and makes a gesture toward his horse. You watch as he walks over and starts to lift his belongings from the saddle, distracted as the muscles of his back tighten his shirt.

Tommy yells something and he answers, breaking you out of your daze.

“How ‘bout that drink?” he asks when he’s standing close once again.

You move around your small kitchen in silence, trying to busy yourself with making him a small meal. All you want to do is reach over and touch him, to tell him that you need him to touch you.

All your thoughts make it impossible for you to concentrate on the task, your time apart having done nothing to lessen his hold over you. If anything, it’s stronger.

With a sigh you reach for a plate, too distracted to react as it slips free from your hand and crashes to the ground.

He rushes up behind you, taking your hand in his and checking it for any cuts. His calloused fingertips search your skin, and you feel every sensation. His scent fills the space you occupy, and he surrounds you completely.

“Are you okay, darlin’?”

You turn to face him, your lips parting at the intensity in his gaze.

“It’s just been a long day,” you say, searching for any excuse.

“Hmm,” he muses, continuing to study you.

His gaze flickers to your mouth and you need him to kiss you. As if drawn in, you lean closer as he leans in to meet you.

Suddenly, a knock sounds at the door and Tommy comes in, his smile fading when he realizes his obvious interruption.

“Sorry big brother,” he mutters. “But you forgot this.”

He holds out Joel’s knife before looking at you with an apologetic smile. Joel takes it and then carefully slides it into the back pocket of his jeans.

Tommy disappears out the door as quickly as he had come in.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly and when you look back at Joel you have no time to react as he grips your face between his hands and pulls you into his chest.

When your lips meet, you make a strangled sound of surrender, immediately combing your fingers through his hair.

He holds you steady, pulling away to press a kiss to one corner of your mouth, then the other before he lingers in the middle.

You press your curves into him and he bumps into the counter, then the kitchen table as you shift and finally meet the wall as he pins you against something solid.

You can smell, taste and feel him but none of it is enough.

He grabs your ass, your thighs, slides his hands along your waist and up over your breasts, seeming to need to touch every part of you simultaneously. Your hands roam his body frantically, yanking on his shirt until the buttons pop off and it falls from his shoulder to the floor.

His fingers trace the hem of your dress, and you moan, bringing your hand to rest on his, guiding his movements.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs in a voice rough with need. “Tell me the things you want me to do to you.”

“Everything,” you whisper against his mouth.

He groans your name and slips his hands under your dress.

“I need to see all of you,” he says, teasing your mouth.

In one swift movement he has the dress up and over your head and stops dead at the sight of what’s been hiding beneath.

He takes a step back, leaving you pressed against the wall.

Your matching satin and lace set has him licking his lips and he pushes a restraining hand through his hair.

“Fuck, you’re stunning,” he says, moving closer again and running his fingertips along the swell of your breasts.

A visible shiver runs across your skin and his hand travels upward, tracing the outline of your collarbone, along your neck and finally to your jaw.

He drags your mouth to his and you fumble clumsily with his pants. His hands wander down the curve of your spine, back up again along your sides to your breasts, and feel every inch of your skin.

The kiss never breaks as you stumble back toward the couch and pull at his remaining clothes.

He stops just when your calves hit the cushions, slowly tracing your ribs with his knuckles before sliding to the clasp of your bra to release it.

Pulling you closer, he groans into your mouth as your soft breasts graze his chest and your fingers slide lower, circling his cock and lightly squeezing.

He spins and sits down, resting his hands on your waist and holding you still in front of him. Reaching down he slips his thumbs under the fabric at your hips and delicately drags it down your legs.

With soft kisses to your stomach, he moves downward, continuing to taste until you coat his tongue and erase everything else.

“I’m fuckin’ losin’ my mind darlin’,” he whispers against your ear as he drags you into his lap. “I need to be inside you.”

Your hips rock over him, his cock sliding against your wetness as your sighs and moans fill the room.

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” you whimper. “Please Joel. I can’t wait any longer.”

He brings his eyes to yours, his lips hovering just an inch away as he holds your gaze and guides himself deep inside you.

“Oh my god,” you moan.

“Say it again,” he demands, breathless.

“Please Joel.”

He starts to thrust into you more steadily and you brace your hands on his shoulders, easily meeting each movement.

“I can’t get enough of this,” he whispers against your lips. “I want you like this every day.”

His name leaves your lips like a prayer and his grip tightens.

“Come on darlin’. Let me see you come all over me. It’s all I’ve thought about.”

Your thighs tighten around his waist, and you squeeze his cock, your breath hitching before you muffle your cries against his neck. He follows right behind, hips stuttering and breathing ragged.

He slumps back against the couch and cradles you to his chest, his arms secured around you.

He moves his face close to yours, noses brushing and lips delicate.

“Stay with me,” you whisper.

His lips trace your jaw and stop just below your ear. He places a soft kiss to the spot before whispering, “I’m not goin' anywhere.”

@lizette50 @hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x reader #tlou #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut

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heartfullofleeches · 2 months

Text

Yan Zombie + Restoration Hobbyist Reader Blurb

"Blink once if you can hear me."

It calls to them from the darkness - a voice melancholic yet strangely robotic in its application. It's familiar - like something they've heard in a dream. They can't move. Their arms feel as though they're pinned beneath boulders. Their legs feel weightless. The place in their mouth were their tongue sat felt dry and... exposed. Left with no other choice, their eyelids flicker upwards. The flesh over their right eye feels to be constructed of foreign tissue - metal scrapping over the weight in the socket where their eye once was. The image of the figure standing over them is fleeting, lips pulled thin in an expression of approval.

"Blink twice."

Their eyes flutter open for a second time - remaining there as two finger pry apart the lids of their still functioning eye.

"Good. It's fortunate that you are still able to hear. At the moment, my fixes are merely cosmetic so I'm afraid you won't be able to see out of that eye of yours for some time. If you are like other patients I've had the issue will work out on its own."

Their eye rolls idly in their head - struggling to make out any features of the person through the blazing lights overhead.

"You must have questions. Forgive me- I wasn't expecting you to wake up before I had time to work on your jaw. Please use this to communicate if you wish, you can ask me anything."

Function to their left hand returns - their wrist raw and lacking the binding weight shacking it in place. Restraints? Smooth plastic rolls beneath their fingertip as they flex the stiff joints of their digits. Their fingers trace out the rectangular shape of the keyboard's space bar. Gliding gracelessly over the keys, a hand helps stabilize their moments as they begin to type. A computer monitor awakens from its sleep as words pop up on its screen.

"Where am I?"

A common question. "You are in my workplace. I repair things from time to time to keep myself busy. I found you in a creek nearby during a stroll the other night. Thankfully, you hadn't been in there long or I would've had to replace more than the skin of your eye."

Their hand draws up to their eye, feeling the odd texture over their eye. It's felt.

"I hate to bring up any bad memories from the past, but I need to ask in order to provide you with the care you require. Do you remember anything from the day you died?"

Died?... That's... honestly not the most surprising thing about this ordeal. A stabbing pain blisters at the back of their mind as they try to remember. A boat. A shotgun. Laughter. Tears. Please, no. It's not funny just put it down. Please. please-

"Boating trip. They said if I tagged along I could finally be apart of their group. I thought I could trust them. They said they were my friends. They said"

Their body lurches forward - fighting against the bite of their bonds. It hurts. It hurts so much. Why are they still here? Garbble wails ricochet off the bedroom walls. In their time of misery, another memory rushes to the forefront of their mind. Their body convulsing on an operating table. The gentle hushes of another as they pet back their hair - drying blackened tears from the corners of their eyes. A compassionate hand from the world that had abandoned them when they needed someone most.

"Hold me."

"What?"

"I remember.. Arms around me. A voice calling out to me. Promising me everything would be okay. That was you - right? Hold me. I don't want to be alone. Please, don't let me be alone anymore."

The hobbyist removes the glove from their dominant hand, wiping the leathery flesh were thick, congealing tears pool. You pull your newest patient closer - mindful of their stitches as you rub small circles along their spine.

"You can stay here as long as you like. While I'm not the most social person, I can't turn away someone who needs my assistance."

Their sobs are reduced to small whimpers as they cling into you - dying your apron in various fluids as their arm locks around your midsection in a vice grip. You grab onto their other wrist, preventing them from wrestling it out of their chains leaving you with more work in the future if their skin were to tear.

"I know this is a lot for you, but please try not to damage yourself further."

Their arm drops from your waist - fingers flying over the keyboard on a flurry.

"What's your name?"

"My name?... You can just call me Y/n."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere drabble #yandere zombie #tw yandere

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wing-ed-thing · 11 months

Text

Being Dumb and 12-Years-Old with Team 7 Headcanons

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Being 12, Mixed AU

𓆃 Genin are a different breed of insufferable. Because they do such heavy, "adult" work, the times genin get to be kids, they almost double down and have to get a certain amount of thoughtlessness out of their system.

Naruto

𓆃 Naruto is just spending money on useless things. He has no idea how to handle money at all and will pay for things in the lowest coin denomination possible.

𓆃 He's a sucker for "limited-time" snacks, no matter what the flavor, and he's paying for everything with the lowest denomination possible.

𓆃 So you're standing at the cash register with your two "spicy pickle and cream" flavored onigiri while the poor cashier has to count 200 1ryō coins.

𓆃 And even after all of that, Naruto will be short.

𓆃 Naruto will be too loud and laugh too much in public spaces. He can't keep his hands off anything and will get you kicked out of at least one (1) business every few weeks.

𓆃 Will go into a business without buying anything and just sit down and hang out. Has absolutely no social anxiety and will stay completely oblivious to the clear mounting frustration on the employee's face until he's asked to leave.

𓆃 Be prepared to apologize for him a million times or instead you can validate to him that he totally didn't do anything wrong— what was that guy's problem?

𓆃 Then you're going back to his apartment, trying to eat spicy noodles— that were actually far too spicy for either of you but neither of you are admitting that— and getting into scream debates over TV shows until the neighbors are banging on the wall because you're being too loud.

𓆃 He's also showing you the grossest things the internet has to offer and traumatizing you for life.

Sakura

𓆃 You and Sakura think you're such mature little adults, meanwhile, you're getting all anxious about the passive aggressive fights you're getting into with your peers.

𓆃 And in true 12-year-old fashion, no one is beefing with each other to their faces, but you sure as hell are sending each other to talk to other people and then report back to you.

𓆃 You once texted Ino's "ex-boyfriend" just asking, "Is this ___?” He threatened to call the authorities and Sakura and Ino had to calm you down for the rest of the night.

𓆃 You think you're being sneaky using the samples from the beauty store to put make up on, and looking back you're baffled you didn't get an infection.

𓆃 Any underwear outside of standard cotton panties is scandalous and terrifying, and there was definitely a time you all bought a lacy undergarment together and worried for a solid hour how to get them home without your parents knowing.

𓆃 You never wore them. Your parents never found out.

𓆃 Sakura and Ino gave you a make over during a sleepover once, even though their version of make up was just very caked on foundation and boxy eyebrows.

𓆃 Every so often, the three of you will pair off and have fights with each other. You and Sakura will have a fight that Ino "mediates." You'll "mediate" a fight between Sakura and Ino... and totally take sides. You'll tell Sakura that Ino's wrong, and Ino that Sakura is wrong.

𓆃 The fights don't last long and usually result in some tears shed and ice cream bought.

Sasuke

𓆃 Sasuke touts himself as a sort of wiz on the piano or perhaps on the guitar, when in reality, he just learned to play three songs really well.

𓆃 He won't outwardly flex, but you can tell he likes to be recognized for it. He'd whip the skill out on days he's feeling particularly down.

𓆃 He'll tell you that you're going to "start a band," but you "won't be like other music groups that just want to get famous". But in reality, when you go over to his place, you'll just end up eating junk food, playing games, and won't ever actually touch an instrument.

𓆃 The closest you'll get is karaoke, but if you ever mention it ever again Sasuke won't talk to you for a week.

𓆃 And he's not immune to sending someone back and forth with messages to you because he's not talking to you. But "not in the way girls do," whatever that means.

𓆃 He’ll also accidentally download something shady from a shady website one night after going down some obscure internet rabbit hole, and Sasuke will say he's not worried about it, but he'll call you when you get home hyperventilating about how worried he is about it.

𓆃 You'll try to learn how to ride the latest form of transportation on wheels together, but the moment Sasuke discovers he's not instantly good at it he'll get mad at you for being better than he is even though it's only been 10 minutes and are you really that better than he is?

𓆃 Only posing for pictures with a scowl and hands clasped in front of you. Bonus points if your head is tilted back. These are photos you and Sasuke hide when you're older.

𓆃 Coming up with nicknames for yourselves and subtly trying to encourage other people to start calling you those nicknames.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: No offense to any 12 year olds in the audience. Being your age is universally a cringe time it's okay it's a right of passage.

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