#joby taylor x reader

[mypoisonedvine]

If you’re not taking multiple requests from people ignore this but you choose: soul comforting levels of Burt fluff, or soul destroying I am Not In A Good Place and I want Joby Taylor to Wreck Me smut. Or stepping on Riddly Boi.

all of these are great options but I'm in the most fucked up mood and I need joby carnally holy shit

warnings: 18+ ONLY!!!, some dubcon elements, hatesex, choking, dumbification, pretty hardcore degradation, semi-public sex, overstimulation/forced orgasm, hair pulling, unwanted creampie, just fucknastiness and toxic as hell dynamics with a touch of angst at the end

"Where'd all that attitude go, huh? What about all that stuff about how you couldn't fucking stand me, how you never wanted to see me again?"

"Shut up," you hissed, "just shut up and fuck me, please--"

He shook his head, you could feel it against the crook of your neck, and curled his fingers a little more inside you; you whimpered, arching your back up off the dirty wall of the dirty backroom of this dirty bar. Everything about this was dirty, but you didn't care: the muffled, mediocre rock music coming in through the cracks in the door; the sticky floor under your boots; the smell of liquor and cigarettes and rain and desperation.

This was what you craved. This was what you deserved. This was what you always came back to.

"Please," you gasped again, rocking your hips against his hand. He pushed his fingers deeper until you felt one of his rings inside you-- he must've known what that would do to you.

"M'not gonna fuck you yet," he decided, "not until you beg for it."

"Fuck you," you groaned, but to punish you for your insolence he stopped moving his fingers.

You didn't realize how desperate you were, how much you were not in the mood to be trifled with, until he did that. But it fucking pissed you off-- and in a moment of rage you shoved him away roughly, enough to knock him off balance and force his hand out of your panties.

"Don't fucking taunt me, Joby!" you warned him. "I'm not in the mood for that shit."

"Don't fucking push me," he returned with a snarl, pinning you to the wall. "Jesus, you're such a bitch."

"Whatever," you decided as you started to writhe out of his grasp, "fuck this, I'm leaving."

"Like fuck you are," he spat grabbing you and pulling you back towards him, ignoring your yelp of pain. "You wanna play rough? Fine."

This time when he shoved you into the wall again, it was face-first; you barely turned your head in time to keep your nose from getting squished, but he didn't care, he was too busy roughly yanking your panties down to your knees.

His body pressed against yours, keeping you trapped as he quickly opened his belt and jeans. Spitting into his hand and smearing it over his cock, he forced his cock into you in one brutal thrust. When you whimpered in pain and surprise, trying to reach back to push his hip and stop him from going any deeper, he growled and grabbed your hands to pin you to the wall completely. "This is what you fucking wanted," he reminded you, snapping his hips and burying himself into you completely. "This is what you asked me for-- you wanted to get fucked, right?"

He was ruthless as soon as he started moving, of course; hard, fast thrusts that kept knocking you into the wall as you whined.

"You know better, baby," he cooed, lips nearly pressed against your ear as he spoke, hot breaths fanning your skin. "You know this is what you get, what did you expect? You didn't think I was going to be nice, did you?"

Obviously you didn't-- you don't drag Joby Taylor back behind the bar because you want to be treated nice. But as your body finally adjusted to him, you sighed a little and your head fell back because it did feel nice, in its own way.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he pressed. "Say it."

"I-- I wanted..." you mumbled, struggling to form a sentence at all. "I, uh-- fuck-- I wanted you..."

You felt his smile against your ear, and then his teeth against your neck. "You can barely talk already," he noticed.

But you don't drag Joby Taylor behind the bar because you want to talk, either.

"This is what you needed, huh?" he realized. "Needed to be fucked right so you don't have to think anymore. You always get so stupid when my cock is in you."

He must have noticed the way you clenched inside, your needy gasp when he insulted you like that.

"You like being my stupid slut?"

You managed to nod, at least-- that was probably the best he was going to get out of you for a while.

"You want me to choke you, don't you?"

You nodded again, but his hand was already around your neck.

Technically, you were the only thing that went silent in that moment-- but the static that filled your brain made it seem like everything was muffled when he did that. He only did it for a few seconds at first, just enough time to really focus on the sound of his hips slapping against your ass; your moan was weak and desperate when he gave you air again.

He knew what you could take. Even more than that, he knew what you needed. The next time he pressed his fingers down, he didn't let up until your vision was almost black and the tips of your fingers started to tingle.

Then, when he let go, you made the most desperate and pathetic. "Oh shit," he hissed encouragingly, "you're close, huh? You love it so much, Jesus. About to cream all over me just cause I choked you-- fuckin' filthy."

He cut off your next moan halfway through-- he pushed you even further that time, until you almost tried to struggle even if you barely had the power to, and when he let go you sobbed out his name. You would've been so ashamed to say his name like that just a few minutes ago, but that was back when you had a shred of dignity.

You didn't even have to say anything when you came, you just let out a wavering moan and felt your legs quiver, and he knew. "There it is," he growled proudly. "You always come so fast when I treat you like shit, don't you? What a dumb fucking whore."

Limp and helpless, you melted into it-- you were ready to go blank, be numb, just let the ecstasy carry you until he was done. Joby had other ideas, though.

His arm wrapped around you and his fingers quickly found your clit; as soon as he pressed them against it, rubbing fast circles, you jolted and tried to reach down for his hand.

"N-no, I can't," you began weakly.

"I need one more," he demanded, but it was too much; you whined loudly, shaking and shuddering and trying to jerk your hips away somehow, but obviously you were trapped. Even if the pressure on your clit wasn't enough to make you struggle like this, he was still fucking into you... it was impossibly overwhelming.

"I can't, I can't," you sobbed-- there were already tears in your eyes just from the sensation. "Joby-- fuck!"

"Shh, shh," he tried to soothe you, "somebody's gonna hear if you scream like that."

"Please," you begged-- for relief, for mercy, for just a second to breathe.

"Somebody's gonna fucking hear you," he warned again, much less sweetly than before. And when you still didn't listen to his implied instruction-- because, of course, you were already being as quiet as you could with him putting you through so much-- he found a way to shut you up.

Choking you again, he rubbed on your clit even harder, even faster-- and you were incapable of screaming, but it's what you would've done. It was brutal and raw and almost painful, but you did come again: a sharp, tugging sort of orgasm that he wrenched out of you so aggressively. And the way he never let go of your neck, keeping your pulse suppressed, only seemed to heighten it even more. Your vision went white and you shook uncontrollably for a few moments as the peak of it really hit you.

"Oh my god, oh my god," he praised through his teeth as he fucked you through it. "Shit, baby, feel how tight you're fuckin' squeezing me? Fuuuck..."

You barely registered his words, of course; you had no brain power for any of that. You were hardly even conscious, actually.

"Gonna fuckin' come inside you," he announced, "gonna fill this little cunt-- fuck, fuck--!"

His hand was still tight on your neck, so you couldn't tell him to stop-- you reached back and weakly tried to physically stop him, as if that was ever possible, but he hardly even noticed. It was too late anyways, he was already moaning lowly and slowing his thrusts down as his cock flexed inside you.

He pushed it to the last second, letting go of your neck only when he was finished, as he relaxed behind you and dropped his head back with a deep groan of satisfaction. You still made the most inhuman sound when you had air again, obviously... you choked on your own gasp for oxygen, you sobbed helplessly, you moaned pathetically-- all at once, somehow.

But you still had enough lucidity to kick him away, forcing him out of you a little sooner than he expected. "What the fuck!" you yelped at him, though it didn't sound especially confident when you were still catching your breath.

"What?" he wondered, still looking pretty out of it.

"You came in me?!" you noticed, reaching down and touching your hole to find not only plenty of cum leaking out of you but more soreness than you expected which made you wince. "Aw, dude..." you whined in annoyance.

"Was I supposed to pull out?" he mumbled.

"Obviously!" you shouted.

"Hey, you didn't say anything!" he noticed defensively.

"I couldn't fucking breathe," you recalled.

"You didn't say anything before," he clarified, "how the fuck am I supposed to know--?"

"'Cause you always pull out!"

"Whatever, I'll buy you a pill," he promised, "it's not a big deal."

"I can buy my own pill," you rolled your eyes, quickly pulling your panties back up and your dress back down before you reached for the door.

"You're seriously just gonna leave?" he frowned.

"Yeah, what the fuck else are we gonna do-- cuddle?" you mocked.

"Fine, Jesus, just go then," he decided with a scoff.

And so even though you were still sore and leaking and your knees were still weak and bruises were forming on your neck, you walked out the door and slammed it behind you, shoving your way through the crowded bar and back outside. Though you weren't really sure why, you wiped another tear off your cheek.

[cannedbeefaroni]

can we get an analysis on how different paul dano characters take nudes? LMAOOO TYTY 🙏

Ok ok I will admit I think louis ives would take good nudes at least. She’d know how to take a good mirror selfie in sexy dresses and lingerie. She’d cover her face with her phone or crop it out.

With Joby Taylor you’d get really awkward selfies with his face in frame looking either high or stupid. He’d be very obsessed with taking shirtless pics and sending them to you randomly.

Edward nashton would take top down pictures of his cock with the lights off and the flash on. You can see his pajama pants pulled down with Cheeto crumbs on them. Also you’d get some belly in the frame (hot)

Calvin weir-fields would send jacking off videos with loud moaning if you demanded hard enough for it because he’s a pushover and a bottom. The video cuts off before he cums tho.

Eli sunday would send you letters with disgusting nasty filthy smut of his deepest desires and crude sex drawings.

Burt fabelman is a man of god. He does not photograph his genitalia like some hooligan.

Pierre Bezukhov gets painted like one of those French girls if you know what I mean (look it was one time and he was drunk or something)

[danoberry]

★ i’m so sick (joby taylor x reader) SMUT 18+

description: joby finds your vibrator and has you put on a show.

content: SMUT 18+!!!, hella overstim, slight masochism, dumbification, squirting, cum play, voyeurism, degradation, just overall filthy

pronouns: you/yours (female reader)

wc: 2.5k

afab genitalia

AN:

woah two posts in like three days? i’m on a roll! wrote this one on a whim because i got a good idea, and stayed up all night working! enjoy!!!

You’re tired— so fucking tired as you lie on Joby’s bed. You’ve had a long day at work, and he knows this. It’s only 5pm, but as the blinds cast a shadow over your body, the lamp outside of the apartment illuminates your body in stripes of shadow and light. Joby stands over the sink, washing his face with hot water, groaning from the warmth of the water while he holds his hands to his face. He found something of yours before you got home. He’s stalling to tell you… it’s for your own good. 

Joby slyly walks out of the bathroom, but you can’t see him yet, with your face buried in a pillow that smells like body odor and cigarettes. He opens his drawer nonchalantly. 

“Baby?” He calls out. 

“Hm?” You groan.

“I found something of yours today.” 

“Oh you did? What was it?” Your voice is muffled. 

“Turn around and I’ll show you.” 

“But baby,” you whine, “I’m tired!” 

Suddenly, you hear a buzz humming from the other side of the room. Surely he isn’t shaving. You turn over and Joby stands there, mockingly in awe of what he has in his hands. He’s looking it up and down. He’s touching the top and watching his fingertip shake. He found your vibrator. 

Your eyes widen and you sit up. 

“Where’d you get that?” 

“Your nightstand.” 

You scoff nervously. “What were you doing in my nightstand?” 

“I was looking for some chapstick… but I found this pretty thing instead! When do you have time to use this?” He continues to run his fingertips against the top of the pink, vibrating toy. 

“Joby I— I use it when you’re away. Turn it off, it’s gonna go dead. Just put it up and forget about it.” 

“Forget about it?” He asks. “You want me to forget about it? You’re so desperate you can’t even wait for me to fuck you? You have to use this cheap shit?”

“Joby seriously it’s not that big of a deal—“ 

He throws the vibrating toy onto the bed next to you and it vibrates against your thigh. You pick it up to turn it off, but Joby doesn’t approve. 

“Uh-uh, babydoll,” he tuts. 

“What?” You scoff, impatience bubbling as he gets cockier. Joby pulls a chair from the table and flips it around, straddling it. He leans his forearms on the top of the back of the chair and runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Well, if you want to be a whore and use a cheap piece of plastic to fuck yourself, you can go ahead and show me.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me—“ 

“Nope. I wanna see how you fuck yourself when I’m not here.” 

You hesitate with your mouth agape, he raises his eyebrows, smirking patronizingly. 

“Show me baby.” 

Your cunt begins to clench around nothing as he speaks to you in such a degrading way. You’re quite angry with him, sure, but fuck is he turning you on. You argue one last time for full effect, “Joby come on, this is so stupid!”

He stares at you like you’re ignorant, not muttering a word. You huff a whine and grab the vibrator, dragging it along your clothed thighs, trailing to your cunt that was already clenching around nothing. 

You leave it at its lowest setting, pressing it gently on your clothed clit. You mewl at the feeling and grab one of your tits from under your shirt, squeezing it. You pull the vibrator away from your clit and use your hands to take off your shirt, and then your bra, your pants, and soon, you’re sat with nothing on but a thong. You fail to see Joby’s reactions. He licks his lips and palms at his growing erection while he’s watching you strip for him across the room.

You grab the vibrator again and hum when you press it back to your clit, grinding yourself onto the toy and whining quietly. 

“Oh- fuck Joby,” you whisper. He watches silently, entertained and aroused by the way your body moves against your toy. The way your back arches when you press just a little too hard, the way you shake your core around the vibrator when it isn’t giving you enough. He’s fascinated. He’s fucked you plenty of times and he’s seen you like this, under him before, but something about watching you from afar— really studying you, it’s making him weak. 

You turn up the setting on the vibrator, whining more and more as slick falls down your weeping hole, getting on the mattress. You press harder on your clit and moan out, gasping. A knot forms in your stomach, and you press harder on your bud, letting your orgasm crash over you, and quickly setting the toy aside to catch your breath. 

Joby watches as you do this and wants to come over and put it right back on your clit himself, to send you into overstimulation by his doing, but he doesn’t give into his fantasy so quickly. Firstly, he stands up and walks over to you and sits next to your tired body that’s panting, staring up at the ceiling. Joby kisses your forehead, but he feels anything but remorse for what he’ll order you to do. 

“Did I tell you you could stop?” He asks you, like you’re a baby. 

“Oh, Joby!” you whine loudly. 

“I didn’t, did I?”

“No…” 

“Correct!” he taunts. “Come here.”

You sit up and crawl in between his legs, laying against his chest. He grabs the vibrator and turns it onto the highest setting, not hesitating to hold it against your clit. The feeling shocks you immediately and you whine out against his shoulder. 

“Ah- I- Oh, Joby! It’s too much! It’s s’much Joby!” 

“If you want to act like a helpless little bitch I’m gonna treat you like one.” 

You moan while you shuffle your feet and move against his stomach, feeling the erection straining at his pants. You’re barely distracted though, because you’re so overwhelmed by the high pressure he’s emitting against your sensitive bud. You breathe against him— engulfed by body odor and cigarette smoke. You feel your second orgasm impending fast.

“Please, I- I’m- Hmngg- Please!” 

You flail against the toy and cry out against his shoulder as your orgasm crashes, to what feels like all over your body. Your legs shake while you yelp, losing feeling in your core for a brief moment. He keeps the vibrator pressed against your cunt, sobbing with cum and clenching hard on nothing.

“Joby it’s too much! Too much! I- ah- hmphh!” You scream against his chest and tears start to form in your eyes, the vibrator constantly hurts your core and stings at your clit. You weep against his body. His dick is rock hard, straining against his pants, and you can feel it while you rub and whine and cry and squirm against him. He simply kisses your head. 

“You can handle it.” 

The pain settles in fast as another knot snaps in your stomach, and all you can feel is hot. He presses down and lets up repetitively, drilling the vibrator onto your bud. You flail around while you shuffle your feet. Drool pools in your mouth as you scream and moan with your mouth agape. You dig your head against his side, and slobber drips out of your mouth, staining on his white tank top. His dick twitches again and you can hear a groan escape his mouth, quiet yet pronounced.

 The pain subsides and turns into pleasure again. You’re melted into an incoherent, babbling mess. 

“Job- ah, uh, ff- hmngg, Jo- ah- by!” You’re screaming against him. You can barely breathe. You love it. 

“Such a pathetic whore,” He growls into your ear, grinding his erection against your back. “You like that, huh? You like being fucked by this cheap shit? Do I need to stop fucking you so you can use your toy more often? ‘Ah- ah, oh Joby!’— you’re hilarious!” 

“‘Need you— you— ah!��� in me,” you whine all over him.

He takes the vibrator off of your cunt abruptly and turns it off. 

“Do you need my cock,” he asks, “or do you need this?” he waves the toy in front of your face, and presses it to your lip. He throws it next to you. You look up at him against his chest as he stares down at you. Your eyes flutter. 

“Both— please,” you’re starting to cry from the lack of contact. 

Joby wouldn’t admit this to you, but watching you cry in his lap made him feel a bit remorseful for being such an asshole to you. He doesn’t relent, though, he simply pets your hair and growls again, “Flip over, you dumb bitch.” 

You try to move, mewling as you pick your arms up and attempt to face him. You just can’t. 

“Aww, is my pretty baby too sore to move?” He taunts.

You nod your head and sniffle. Joby sits up and lays you down in front of him, your pussy inches away from his crotch. He swipes his fingers between your drenched folds, bringing his hands to lips, licking off your slick. He unbuckles his belt and throws it to the side, unbuttoning and unzipping his tight jeans. He pulls down his boxers and his cock springs out immediately. Precum leaks from his bright pink tip, begging to be inside you. He swipes his fingers over your slit again and rubs his cock against your thigh, shoving his slick covered fingers in your mouth, gagging you for a moment. You moan, and he takes his fingers out of your mouth.

“Joby please!” You beg, coughing— spitting. 

“God I don’t know how you aren’t embarrassed at yourself. Drooling for my cock. You want my cock?” He mocks your whining, “Huh, yeah?” 

“Please,” you beg in a broken sob. 

Joby scoffs and laughs at you, bringing his cock away from your thigh and rubbing it against your soaked folds. You moan when his cock touches your swollen clit, and yelp when he finally shoves himself in you, giving you no time to adjust. He takes your legs and wraps them around his hips, fucking into you fast. 

He leans over your body, grabbing one of your tits and flipping at your nipple. You’re weak— voice getting sore from screaming and moaning. He fucks in and out of you relentlessly, grunting when your walls spasm around him. 

All that he can give you isn’t enough, as much as you try and convince yourself it is. With all of the prior simulation compared to him fucking you, it’s not enough, even if his cock is hitting all of the right places. You look up at him, and he’s squeezing his eyes at the ceiling, swallowing hard as you see his Adam's apple disappear and appear quickly.

You grab the vibrator from your side and quickly flip it onto the highest setting, applying it to your clit and crying out from the double stimulation. Joby snaps his head down when he feels the vibrator hum around you. 

“Can’t get enough huh? Fucking slut.” 

He leans over you and takes control of the vibrator while he ruts into you at a brutal pace. He uses his thumb against the tip to press down onto you. You’re squirming against him with tears rolling down your face in bliss. Spit is pooling to the side of your face, thrashing back and fourth. 

His cock curls deliciously, kissing your cervix when he fucks into you. You’re whining and moaning his name when you look into his eyes and begin to squirt clear liquid onto the lower part of his shirt. He holds the toy against your clit, and it doesn’t stop streaming. You’re moaning with euphoria, and you cum almost immediately around his cock, squirting all over the front of his shirt. 

He’s fucking into you harder and riding out your high while you clamp down on him, and the tightness is enough to make him cum as well, but he quickly pulls out and lets the white droplets bead all over your stomach, leaning over and kissing your tits. 

Your squirting ends and Joby finally takes the vibrator off of your cunt and turns it off. He’s drenched in your fluid, towering over your body and groaning as he smears his cum all over your stomach with his hand, and grabbing your tits with the stickiness making noises as he takes his hands off of you. 

Joby lays down next to you, and you’re moaning out quiet sobs as you’re still coming down from your high. 

“Are you okay baby?” He asks with sincerity, the juxtaposition of how he’s acting almost enough to alarm you.

Your eyes flutter, you nod your head slowly. “Legs… hurt s’bad,” you mutter. 

“They’re hurting you, princess? Do I need to kiss them better?” 

“Mhmm…”

He sits toward your thighs and licks them, tasting your juices and pecking at them. You’re so tired from the countless orgasms you just endured. Your eyes are closing with tiredness. Joby takes his head from your thighs and massages them when he lays back next to you. 

“You got me soaked, baby.” 

“I know…” You acknowledge quietly. 

“Do you need to sleep?” 

“Mhm…”

“Go ahead and sleep baby, I’ll get you all cleaned up when you wake up.” 

“Thank you Job.”

“Of course, my cockdrunk babydoll.” He chuckles at the name he gives you. You kiss Joby on the cheek and fall asleep with your hand on the back of his neck. 

[pictureinme]

kinktober day xvii. CUM PLAY – joby taylor

word count: ~400 tags: dirty talk, fingering, breeding kink, overstimulation masterlist | ao3

“Fuck… look at the mess you made, baby.”

Joby unashamedly sticks his fingers into your already-used hole to collect his release as it slowly drips out of you. A cry escapes your throat as the oversensitivity he himself caused shoots jolts of electricity all through your body.

“God, Joby!”

He chuckles as he continues to finger you, the wet noises filling the already stuffy room.

“Look so gorgeous like this, all filled with my cum,” Joby bites his lip, and you swear you see his half-hard dick twitch. “You think this’ll get you pregnant?”

You moan as you nod quickly, the idea of it arousing you even further. He grins as he scissors his fingers inside you, your walls can only do so much as they tighten around him. You look up at him through bleary eyes, and you whimper at his expression. Joby looked as if he was just as wrecked as you, mouth slightly agape as the noises of your wetness only increased.

“Please, I need more,” your head tilts back with a sigh, “Joby, please…”

He hums, pouting, “Two fingers aren’t enough, you need another? Just beg for my dick again at this point, come on.”

Your back arches into his touch and his words as he fills you up with another finger, and you are that much closer to release again. Your hips rock against his digits, curled just right against your most sensitive spot inside. 

“Please, please, fuck…”

“You gonna come again, baby?” Joby’s voice was just as desperate as your own as you watched him quickly fist his hardness.

Nodding, you continue to grind yourself back on his fingers as he curls them even more, “Oh, Joby, fuck, I’m gonna– oh!”

Before you even realized it, your release crashed over you like a tidal wave. He kept his fingers inside, letting you clench down on them as he chased his own orgasm.

“So fucking pretty like this, God,” Joby moans hoarsely as his eyes shut tightly, “Wanna fill you up over and over–!”

Ropes of his arousal land on your outspread thighs and lower stomach as he finishes with a cry. Still clenched tight on his digits, you wince when he slowly pulls them out, only to push them back in with the new release now collected.

“This’ll definitely get you knocked up, right?”

[danosrosegarden]

spellbound - joby taylor x gn!reader headcanons (NSFW) ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

{kinktober: day seven. prompt: quirofilia. 🎃}

{contains: descriptions of fingering (genitals/gender not specified).}

☽ "See something you like?"

☽ It was hysterical, really. Joby hated his own guts one minute, eyes rimmed red with tears as he moaned into your arms about how he was so close to making it big, he could practically taste the stardust granules of success on his tongue. He would curl into a ball in bed and sob about his failure as a father, too. You don't think I'm a bad person, babe, right? Shit, I made mistakes, but I'm not bad, right? Yeah?

☽ Yet the very next minute, his blood flowed with astounding egotistical grandeur. Those were the nights he grabbed hold of you roughly and staked his claim. You might pretend you were disgusted by his crass advances and those filthy words he'd whisper into your ear, but the slicked hair, the chipping black polish, the thick curves and bends of his tattoos, the smooth smirks...everything about that weasel of a man had you whipped.

☽ And in fact, you had seen something you liked. There was something about the way those long fingers plucked at his old guitar strings. The way they combed through the grease of his long hair. The way they'd end most nights pumping steadily in and out of you...there lived a certain fixation inside of your brain focused on his big, smooth hands.

☽ Joby was reluctantly romantic. He liked holding hands, but they usually ended up somewhere else instead of staying laced with yours.

☽ "You look good with a guitar in your lap," you stated. Joby offered you a small grin, moving to set it down. "You look good watching me over there." You tossed back an eye roll. "Cornball."

☽ Perhaps that was was you appreciated most about Joby...deep down, there was a true and passionate desire to make you smile and feel special. And despite that rather lackadaisical attitude he took towards sex, he still seemed to understand the intimacy that came with the act, the trust needed to be present in order for anything to work.

☽ You had grown past the point of butterflies twirling around your gut when stripping for him or your cheeks burning when those long, bony fingers were curling and dragging inside of you. Joby still was and would probably always be lots of fun to fuck. There was always something new to try, some new position to feel exposed in or some cheap, laughable toy he would pick up for you. But it always circled back to those pale, veiny hands. They were divine wherever he decided to put them. Two inside your mouth, getting your slick saliva on the skin so they can slip inside you easier! Trailing down your shivering, sensitive sides! The possibilities are endless!!

☽ It was almost as if your own fingers weren't enough anymore when you touched yourself on your own. He had put a spell on you, always leaving you craving more.

[r1ddlessy]

groupie love

warnings: creampie, rough sex, groupie behaviour

a/n: i had this concept of him signing her tits as well but idk 😔

"Would you mind signing this?"

Joby looked up from his guitar to meet your nervous yet hopeful gaze. His eyes drifted down, observing the gentle heave of your chest as you awaited his answer.

"Of course, sweetheart." He flashed you a classic grin as he took the pen and scrawled his signature on to the printed photograph of him.

"Thank you so much." You hurriedly said, cheeks burning at the pet name. As he returned the photograph, his fingers brushed against your waiting ones. You turned to leave after flashing him another grateful smile, but his palm laid flat against the door, caging you in his hold.

"Why don't you keep me some company before the show, sweetheart?" He murmured.

"I'd love to." You replied softly, eyes glancing up at his. He nodded in approval then sat back down on the sofa. Your eyes trailed down to his spread legs, and the confidence he seemed to exude. Joby caught your wandering eyes and raised an eyebrow.

"My eyes are up here, sweetheart." He teased.

"Sorry..." Your cheeks warmed at the comment and he clicked his tongue, shaking head lightly.

"Don't apologize. I can see you want more than an autograph." A knowing smirk graced his face. "You're more interested in a physical badge of honour, right?" He raised an eyebrow and you nodded, embarrassed at your overt wanting. He chuckled. "Don't be embarrassed, sweetheart. C'mere." He gestured for you to come closer with his fingers and you walked over to stand in front of him. Joby stood up, pressing his front against yours.

His hand gently gripped your jaw, tilting it up as he pressed his lips against yours. His mouth melded with yours as he deepened the kiss, his hands reaching out hungrily to squeeze at your hips. He pulled away from the kiss momentarily as his fingers tugged impatiently at the waistband of your jeans.

"Can I?" He asked breathlessly.

"Please." You replied quickly, before his fingers deftly tugged the material down your legs until your jeans pooled on the floor. Your own hands quickly pulled your top off, allowing Joby to do the same.

"Bend over, darlin'." Joby's ringed hand tapped the wooden surface of the vanity. You obliged him, and his warm hands tugged your underwear down to the floor before settling on your hips. "Hold tight." His command is followed by a warning of the weeping tip of his cock teasing your entrance.

"I can take it." The determination in your tone and your grip on the wood assured Joby, and he pushed himself inside you. You gasped softly at the stretch in your walls, as his fingers dug into your skin. He began to push himself in and out steadily, gradually building up to a pace that left you digging your nails into the wood to stabilize yourself. Suddenly his hand gently tilted your chin up, holding it there as you made eye contact in the mirror.

"I want you to look at who's making you feel so good, pretty girl." He drawled. You panted as you took in the spectacle of your smudged lip gloss and tussled hair in the mirror.

"Fuck." You hissed. He smirked smugly.

"That's not my name, baby." He murmured as he lightly tugged your hair.

"Joby..." You panted.

"That's it sweetheart." His palm pressed to the lower part of your stomach. "I want you to come on my cock." His hot breath fanned against your neck as he whispered. His hand slipped lower as his deft fingers circled around your clit. Your eyes squeezed shut at the sensation. "Can you do that for me, pretty girl?" You whimpered and nodded, which made him tut softly and shakenhis head. "Use your words, sweetheart. I know you can."

"I'll come on your cock, please Joby!" Your whine melted into a moan as his movements increased in speed and force, until the wood of the vanity bit into your upper thighs.

"Do it pretty girl, scream my name."

"Joby!" You groaned as you finally coated his cock, clenching your walls around him. You slightly collapsed on to the vanity before Joby's final, sloppy thrusts filled you with his warm seed.

"Fuck." He muttered as he pulled out. You turned to face him slowly, with a slightly disoriented smile and streaked mascara.

"See you after the show?" You said slightly breathless. Joby grinned in response.

"Of course, darlin'."

[always-andromeda]

cherry jubilee for my man joby 🥰🥰🥰 i need him to degrade me real bad 😵

– 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝

𝐉𝐨𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: OKAY, so, I don't think I've ever written literally anything like this sO I hope the level of degradation is enough here? because oh goodness I may or may not have been absolutely losing my shit while visualizing this whole thing.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut (MDNI), clit rubbing, teasing and degradation (usage of slut exactly one time lol), pet names (multiple uses of princess), slight overstimulation, slight aftercare from Joby, nothing else I can think of!

Nearly three in the morning. And your boyfriend sleeps somewhat peacefully beside you, almost completely unaware of the turmoil brewing in your brain. Joby snores gently, passed out in the crooked position he’d collapsed onto the bed in when he came home from his band’s show. He was sweaty and exhausted, muttering a small, “hey, baby,” before his eyelids fluttered closed.

You had chuckled softly as he almost immediately drifted off before you fell back asleep yourself. But hours later, now wide awake, all you can think about are his eyes. How through the mist of your dream, you’d heard the screams of fans throwing themselves in his direction. They part like the Red Sea, his eyes set only on you. Somehow, just the thought of his eyes were enough to have you breathing deeply.

Then your imagination jumped to his hands. The way they picked away at his guitar with a practiced ease. And in your mind, they’d been playing you perfectly too. With a mounting ache between your legs, you can’t take the waiting anymore.

You turn, stare through the dark at the back of Joby’s head, and carefully reach forward to rub his shoulder. You whisper his name, “Joby.”

Nothing.

“Joby,” you repeat louder.

Already disgruntled and grumbling, he finally startles awake. He turns to face you with lumbering movements. Eyes bleary, Joby groans, “Whaaat?”

He blinks heavily, thankfully not able to see just how antsy you are as you squirm. You start to explain, “I…I had a dream,”

“Okay?”

“…and I was wondering if you could maybe help me out?” You finish through gritted teeth.

You can barely make out the way his mouth curls into a sleepy, sleazy smile as he gets the idea of the type of dream you may have had. He chuckles, “You want my help, princess?”

“Yes,” you affirm, rolling your eyes.

“Tell me where you want me,” he says breathlessly.

You think for a second before commanding, “Just…just give me your hand.”

Joby presents you with one of his large hands and laughs once more, “Mmmm, bossy.”

Without much hesitation, you take it and shove it down the front of your panties. The calloused pads of his fingertips brush over your mound as you guide him further and further downwards. You try your best to focus on the way his touch makes your skin shiver but instead find yourself listening to Joby’s raspy voice.

He groans from somewhere deep in his throat as his fingers drag between your lips. He’s almost surprised to find a pool of slick already forming and he gathers it with  two digits. “Mmmm, you’re so warm and so wet. Bet you’ve been lying here just waiting for me to do something about this, huh?”

With your head sinking into your pillow, you nod. Using your own hand over his, you model the movements you need him to make over your clit. You quietly show him, though he knows full well just what you need. His fingers fall into the familiar, tight, circular pattern quickly. Right away the action makes a chord in your abdomen begin to tighten and you barely hold back a soft moan.

Joby’s tired voice plays in your ear as he moves in closer, “Let me hear you, princess. Wanna hear your desperate little sounds.”

It’s so late and your mind is already so muddy that you follow his direction without hesitation and let out the breathy sighs that only grow in volume as the pressure of the pleasure builds. You want to be surprised at how little effort it takes on his part to turn you into an absolute mess, bucking your hips against his hand.

The action doesn’t escape Joby’s notice. “God, you’re so fucking needy. Such a greedy girl, waking me up in the middle of the night to use my hand. And after a show, especially,” he chastises you. “You’re lucky my wrist isn’t sore. Then I might’ve told you no. I might’ve let you fuck yourself with one of those stupid toys of yours.”

“You— you wouldn’t—”

“Oh, I would,” Joby chuckles. “It would’ve been so much fun listening to you try to get yourself off without me. Because it’s better when I do it, huh?”

You nod again.

Joby stops rubbing, reminding you that even though your hand lies over his, he’s still very much in control. The pleasure already starting to fade, you whine.

“C’mon, princess. Tell me who’s the best at making you come and I’ll keep going.”

“You,”

“And what’s my name, princess?”

You grit your teeth and try to ignore his teasing tone as you force yourself to say what he wants to hear, “Joby fuckingTaylor.”

Pleased with your submission, Joby wastes no time in continuing. This time, the circles are faster, relentless, and barely give you a chance to catch your breath before the burn builds all over again, this time stronger and more intense than before.

“That’s right. Fucking Joby Taylor is the only one who can make you fucking whine and scream like the desperate little slut you are.”

The combination of his fingers and the bite in his tone on that one word sends you straight over the edge within seconds. You want to feel ashamed at how you whimper and how your legs shake through the aftershocks that ripple through your body. Joby’s fingers press against your clit just long enough following your orgasm that you squirm and manage to get out a weak cry.

Right before the searing sting can fully set it, Joby pulls his hand away, only to pull you closer into his chest. As if he wasn’t already sweaty on his own, you practically stick to him with the thin layer of perspiration covering your skin.

Joby kisses your hair and places his chin on the top of your head before holding you tightly. Softly, you hear him go, “Shhhhh, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. You did so fucking good for me, princess. So fucking good.”

Focusing on the sound of Joby’s heartbeat as it slowly subsides, you match your breathing to the soft hum in your core.

As your eyelids start to feel heavy, you hear Joby ask, “Are you all tired out now?”

You nod and this time Joby doesn’t push you to grace him with a verbal reply. Instead, he sniffs lightly, taking pride in his victory.

“Alright, let’s go back to sleep,” he says. “Goodnight, princess.”

With your head against his chest and the hunger inside you satiated. It's five minutes after three when you finally allow yourself to fall asleep, mind only on the gentle rhythm of Joby's hand as he rubs your arm.

[lost-in-sokovia]

i just feel you.

this came to me the other night when i was trying to fall asleep and i truly just fell in love with the idea🥺 it’s so fluffy and lovely💕

warnings: fluff with no plot, postpartum depression, written on a whim

you had heard it would be difficult, but you never imagined it would take a toll to this extent on you.

since having your beautiful daughter, annie, you had been struggling with postpartum depression. you knew this was a thing that many mothers struggled with, so you knew you weren’t alone in your experience. it tended to hit especially hard when you would nurse annie; you knew you had joby, and you knew you had your daughter, but you still somehow felt completely alone in the world and as if you were left to fight alone.

joby wanted to help you, he truly did. he would hold you once annie was down and would let you cry in his arms and on his chest all you wanted. joby was not the best with emotions, you both knew that, but the fact he pushed past his awkwardness to do the best he could for you meant something.

you wanted to feel anything, you wanted to feel him.

you let out a deep sigh when you heard your two month old begin to fuss in her pack ‘n play in the middle of the living room. you were snuggled against joby and mindlessly watching tv with him as he ran his long fingers through your hair. the pit began to form in your stomach knowing that your mood was about to decrease significantly more than it already was. you barely had the energy to do anything lately, even things to take care of yourself, and though you adored and loved your daughter with your whole heart, you dreaded nursing.

you sat up and broke out of joby’s grip, swallowing as your eyes brimmed with tears. the selfish part of you wanted to let her cry, wanted to wean her from breastfeeding and instead give her formula. you heard her unhappy little cries and your heart wrenched as you fought your thoughts.

joby noticed your stoic state, not moving to grab your daughter. he blinked, a bit startled by your lack of energy.

“baby?” he asked hesitantly. your head barely shook, the nerve endings in your body beginning to prick as you tried not to cry.

“i don’t want to do it, joby,” you whispered brokenly. joby exhaled quietly but shakily, he didn’t need to ask you any more to know what you didn’t want to do. it hurt, seeing his beautiful girlfriend and mother of his daughter struggle so much to feed her baby. every day he grew more and more worried about your depression and he wished there was a way he could do better to help you.

“what can i do?” he asked quietly.

you wanted to feel him. you wanted to feel him.

you took a deep breath and turned over your shoulder to meet joby’s green eyes, filled with concern and worry. you opened your mouth but hesitated, worried how he would take what you were about to say.

“will you take off your shirt?” you asked meekly. joby blinked, a bit surprised at your request. he began to respond but you quickly cut him off. “please don’t make this a sexual thing, that’s not what i want,” you begged weakly. that sentence struck joby’s heart. the quiet beg for him not to make something sexual was like a dagger to the softer side of him. it wasn’t your fault, he did have a reputation to turn anything he could into some sort of sexual situation. joby swallowed and shook his head at you, eyes like a puppy; he wanted to do better than that, he didn’t want you to have to ask him things like that anymore.

“i won’t, i promise,” he replied gently. you nodded and slowly began to take off your tank top, joby following with his dark gray t-shirt. you stood up and began to slip off your sweatpants and joby watched.

“should i take mine off too?” he asked. you nodded and he rolled his sweatpants off as well. you were both left in your underwear, you looking nervously at joby and him looking back at you so softly. annie’s cries had increased and you hesitantly took her out of the small pen. she was in a white little onesie and her dark hair was all a mess, her soft little face pink as she cried and whined.

“my baby…” you cooed quietly, bouncing her lightly. you sat back down and joby opened his legs, you scooting back between them and pressing your back to his chest.

“let’s take hers off, too, hm?” joby suggested gently. you nodded and joby reached around you, humming as he helped you take the soft onesie off your daughter’s writhing little body. she was left in her diaper and you took another deep breath to calm your nerves, telling yourself you were going to be fine. you nuzzled as closely to joby as you possibly could and he placed his chin on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around your stomach as annie latched onto you, her cries completely stopping as she began to nurse.

“good job, peanut,” joby whispered to his daughter. you leaned your head back onto his shoulder, the feeling of joby’s body around yours and annie’s little body in your arms making you feel at home. you were so connected to the two people you loved the most, and you didn’t feel that luring sense of loneliness and isolation as you fed your baby. love and comfort overtook your senses and for once, you weren’t crying out of sadness.

“how do you feel, baby?” joby asked softly, nuzzling his nose against your ear. you sniffled and your chest shook as you took a shaky breath, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“loved,” you whimpered back. you felt joby smile and kiss your earlobe, his arms giving you a loving squeeze as annie made little squeaking noises as she nursed calmly.

“good job, mama. good job,” joby cooed quietly to you. you were completely relaxed in his arms and you allowed the tears to flow silently down your cheeks as joby kissed everywhere he could and cooed gentle praises to you.

“i love you,” he added. you held annie a bit closer to you, feeling the wonder that comes with being a mother and being able to nourish your child from your own body. this is what you deserved.

“i love you, i love you too,” you choked back.

never in your life had you felt more connected to both joby and annie at the same time, and it was a feeling you hoped to have more often.

[smellydano]

Hey so I was just wondering if you could do some kind of Joby Taylor fluff, like just reader and joby cuddling listening to blue oyster cult idk. I just need more joby taylor fluff in my life tbh, so I'm not really picky. Thank you 🙏🙏

a lil blurb for rn since my brain is mush

your sheets felt soft against your skin as you laid with joby, blue oyster cult’s album spinning on repeat in your cd player placed on your dresser. joby’s arms wrapped around your frame, he placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. you flashed a small smile as you cuddled further into his chest.

~romeo and juliet, are together in eternity.~

“kinda like us.” he mumbled against your forehead, spreading more kisses across your face. you giggled, unsure about his words. “what did you say, baby?”

“y’know, it’s kinda like us. together for eternity.”

“together in eternity.” you smiled up at him, placing your hand on his soft cheek.

“whatever, you know what i mean.” he laughed, his hands wandering down to your waist. he pulled you on top of him, gripping your hips. your legs were around his, straddling him. it didn’t feel sexual, and that wasn’t his intention, for once.

you slowly crawl down to wrap your arms around his neck. his hands moved over your bum, rubbing gently. you started placing little kisses on his collarbone, trailing up to his neck. he groans, pulling you closer, if it was even possible.

“you’re the love of my life.” joby blurted out, unsure of how to say it without fucking up. you giggled at his random outburst, lifting yourself up to look at him, “well you’re the love of my life!” you exclaimed quietly, resting your arms next to his beautiful face.

you loved him no matter what.

shitty lil blurb SORRY! but i’m leaning more towards these because i can’t write long fics anymore (still trying tho LOL)

ty for reading, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated <3

[that-one-emo-potterhead]

check out my silly fanfic i posted in october >:)

[SMUT WARNING]

[kaitcreatesart]

I headcanon that Joby Taylor wrote this song 🎵 🖤

[cannedbeefaroni]

I should proooooooobably make a fic masterlist haha

Edward Nashton:

The Hand That Feeds

The Bad Touch (SMUT)

Love Note

Bloodbath & Beyond (SMUT)

Drunk Walk Home

Pink in the Night (SMUT)

Why Didn't You Stop Me?

Headcanons (SMUT)

Headcanons 2 (SMUT)

Cock on cock fic (SMUT)

Eddie, Burt, and Calvin headcanons (SMUT)

Soft Fuzzy Man (implied smut)

Touch Me

You're So Creepy (SMUT)

Under the Table (SMUT)

Calvin Weir-Fields

Bitchboy (SMUT)

Headcanons (SMUT)

Manipulate, Mansplain, Malewife (SMUT)

Fuck Buddies (SMUT)

Burt Fabelman

Real Men

Kissing in Cars (SMUT)

HOT DILFS IN YOUR AREA

Does Your Mother Know

Gimmie! Gimmie! Gimmie! (SMUT)

Joby Taylor

Get This (SMUT)

Timothy Klitz

The Birds and the Bees (SMUT but only in part 2)

NSFW Alphebet (SMUT)

Brat (SMUT)

Louis Ives

Pretty

Eli Sunday

Confessional (SMUT)

NSFW Alphabet (SMUT)

[danosrosegarden]

zombie - joby taylor x gn!reader headcanons (NSFW) ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

{kinktober: day two. prompt: choking. 🎃}

{contains: joby sucking at communication and aftercare, a fairly toxic relationship, descriptions of fingering (genitals/gender not specified), and mild descriptions of breathplay, of course.}

☽ Being Joby Taylor's lover was complicated business. He would fill your nights with a windstorm of blazing, bedazzled color; so blindingly bright he was, flying into your life and colliding with your tender heart at a million miles per hour, coloring your blood with sparkling supernova dust. But then he was gone in the morning, leaving you to mourn the empty, wrinkled sheets of the bed on your sunray-speckled lonesome. You'd close the blinds and block the shimmering sunshine to brood in the darkness of your bedroom. What were you doing wrong? Why did he always leave without a text, without a call, without a kiss, without a single trace left behind? And for Christ's sake, why did you keep crawling back?

☽ Maybe it was because he was a fucking disease, blackening your lungs and gnawing away at the meat. He was a festering zombie bite; you could feel the skin rotting away at the teeth marks, could smell the stench of decay in the air, could practically taste the mold growing in your body. He was pervasive, grabbing tight hold of every one of your thoughts and spinning it into desire for more of him. You'd normally turn your nose up at guys like him. You were too busy and accomplished to play into their schemes.

☽ Yes, he'd fuck you rough all night until your whole body trembled and your throat was stripped raw and hoarse, then he'd leave when the rising sun wavered low in the sky and you were fast asleep, and yes, that made you so angry, you could spit. But there was something darkly addictive about the cycle. And maybe he didn't even mean to be cruel...maybe there was something inside of him that was aching. Maybe he'd watch your sleeping body rise and fall, maybe he'd trace the dip of your waist, and it would all reek too heavily of what he'd done before. Maybe he was just scared.

☽ Any which way, there was no room to complain in the midst of the process...he was far too busy with making you twitch and plead for more to listen to your accusations. And fuck, was he good at what he did. Nothing filled you up like those long, bony, black polished fingers. He knew just the spots to brush against that made you cry out and beg for more, please, give me more.

☽ Joby brought out all that was hungry and wild from deep inside of you. Were you even into half of the shit you were into now before you two had met?

☽ You suppose it was about the trust. What's sexier than placing your life into the hands of your partner? And you trusted him enough that when those icy, slender hands wrapped themselves around your throat and pushed, you could feel the sparks shooting between your legs.

☽ He'd let you breathe in short bursts, only allowing for a couple gulps of air before pressing down again. It was thrilling; he was normally so lax about everything. The bedroom was the one place he could really just let go and be wild.

☽ Was it even fair to expect you to leave when he was such an expert at clogging your veins with those filthy thoughts of his hands around your throat? It was as if you were under a spell, bound forever to mindlessly stumble for his scent and follow his trail. Did you ever have a chance of breaking the cycle when it was him?

[candied-heartss]

Okay so I've been thinking about this for a while and I just can't seem to write it myself so I was wondering if you could write a fic where Klitz and the Reader have been dating for a while like she went to Yale with him and stuff. And they have like super passionate sex like all the time, so at a party that you guys to he introduces you too a couple of his friends and they all start hitting on you and he gets like super pissed so he pulls you to the side like into a bathroom or something and he makes sure that everyone knows your his by giving you a bunch of hickies and marks and stuff. And then you accidentally call him daddy (yk cuz hes being so protective or something) it startles him but also turns him on more. 💀💀 sorry it's a lot but I really like this idea.

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄

(ʲᵉᵃˡᵒᵘˢ!ᵏˡⁱᵗᶻ ˣ ᵍⁿ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ)

𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇: 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗄𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗓 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗒.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ (𝗠𝗗𝗡𝗜), 𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝗽𝘂𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗽𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 (𝘄𝗿𝗮𝗽 𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗮𝗽 𝗶𝘁, 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲!), 𝗱𝗮𝗰𝗿𝘆𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗮, 𝗱𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸, 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗵𝗼𝗹, 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀𝘆, 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗱𝗱𝘆 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗸𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘇 𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗸𝗲𝘆 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝘀 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗻𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿???

You didn't even know how you ended up in a situation such as this. Never in a million years did you think that you'd currently be getting your brains fucked out by your boyfriend in front of a mirror while in the cramped bathroom of someone's house at a party, but yet, here you were.

"Open wide, baby." you heard the nearly sinful words being whispered into your ear. Klitz's long fingers pressed themselves against your lips, parting them so that he could easily slip inside the warm, wetness of your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and nearly making you gag from the pressure, the rhythm, and the speed of his thrusts never changing.

You whimpered, but to little effect, on account that your mouth was full of his fingers, the tips nearly hitting the back of your throat while his cock hit nearly every right spot inside of you, due to the angle he had bent you at. You looked up at the mirror again and knew for certain that your makeup was ruined.

"Fuck... Your pussy feels like it was made for me..." he groaned, pushing his fingers into your mouth a tiny bit deeper than before, making you choke at the feeling, your eyes nearly rolling back into their sockets and your head hanging slightly lower.

Klitz noticed this and snickered softly to himself before reaching up and threading the hand the other hand that was placed possessively at your hip into your hair, tugging at it and pulling your head back up so you could face the mirror and look at both yours and his reflections at the same time, the sight sending a spark of arousal through your veins.

"Aw, baby," he teased, "look at you, so pretty, so messy... God, I love looking at you." you moaned at his words, finding the way that he was talking to you both patronizing and also incredibly arousing.

You wanted to speak, to say something back in return, but your mind was so muddled from it all, the only coherent thought that came to your brain was of how deep his cock felt inside of you, that you let out mindless babbles and gibberish.

"Oh sweetie, I haven't even been going that hard and your brain's getting all dumb on me," he shook his head and chuckled, "and here I was, thinking my girlfriend was a smart girl, but all it takes is a bit of my cock, and you're already turning into a mindless cumdump. Is that what you want to be known as? Just a stupid little slut who goes around drinking too much and flirting with other guys?"

"I... Uh, I- fuck... Please..." you whimpered, trying to get ahold of your words, but they just wouldn't come out the way that you wanted to. Klitz sighed and chuckled again as he picked up the pace again, nearly making you cry.

"You... You... You what, baby? C'mon, spit it out. I know you can, yeah?" he taunted you again, reaching down and rubbing at your puffy, little clit with his thick fingers, the feeling enough to send shivers down your spine.

"Y-you're right... 'm so dumb, Klitzy... Being so stupid..." you told him, the words already replaying on a loop through your mind like a broken record.

"And, what else are you, huh? C'mon..." Klitz encouraged you, massaging your sensitive bundle of nerves with a bit more pressure applied to it, now.

"I'm a mindless cumdump... All for you..." you still could barely think, on account of being so inebriated by his cock. He smiled, kissing the top of your head, "That's right, baby. You're such a good girl, baby. I'm proud of you for admitting it..."

Something about the mix of his words, the marks he left on your neck, and his fingers on your clit made the knot in your stomach get tighter as your walls clenched harder around his cock, making him groan.

"Fuck... You're so close, I can feel it. You wanna come for me, baby?" he whispered, kissing your cheek as you like at the both of you in the mirror. You nodded, tears now practically streaming down your cheeks, "Please..."

"Hmm... I dunno, how about you beg for it, pretty girl?" he requested, now having stopped both his thrusts and his movements on your clit altogether, making you sob.

"Please, please... I need it, I need you so bad... Please, Daddy, please..." you cried, your hips bucking desperately into his hand. You hadn't even realized what you said, having said all of this in the heat of the moment, but Klitz realized, and he also realized that he really, really liked hearing those words come out of your mouth.

"Say it, again."

"Daddy, please... I wanna come so badly..." you begged again, making him more satisfied and letting his thrusts resume. You nearly screamed until you went hoarse at the feeling, your legs shaking so much, you thought that you'd fall over.

Suddenly, like a tidal wave or like a car collision, your orgasm crashed through you all at once, making your eyes roll back as you trembled in his grasp and moaned loud enough for the whole party downstairs to potentially hear the two of you. Klitz then almost immediately followed after you, groaning loudly as he came, too, his cum now dripping down your thighs as he released inside of you.

After a moment of the two of you just standing there, panting as you both came down from your respective highs, he pulled out of you, putting himself back into his jeans before pulling your panties back up, so that the stickiness of his cum stayed against your cunt.

"My pretty baby..." he whispered in your ear as he kissed you all over your face.

[always-andromeda]

Hi Meda! 🥰

I wanted to write a little Christmas blurb for Joby, but I thought sharing it with you was a great idea since I love how you write and I particularly love your Joby fics 🖤

I wrote on my notes "Christmas Joby fic where he's all grumpy but discover the Christmas spirit thanks to the reader"

Just a fluffy Christmas fic idea hihi

I would love to read your version of this!

Have the nicest day 💕

– 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐀 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞

𝐉𝐨𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭・2,410

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲・you're a mean one, Joby Taylor...

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞・this is just a little thing that I wanted to put out since the holidays haven't been super fun this year and writing Joby always makes things better lol. I haven't done a bunch of writing since getting covid so we're trying to get back into the swing of things. thank you dearly for this request, odd! and I hope you had a lovely holiday! (and lmao not me mentioning my own personal inserts for Joby's bandmates and sprinkling in my headcanons for his childhood; just indulge in my holiday fluff and move on y'all lol)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・Joby doesn't understand the Christmas spirit, bits of angst, but mostly just pure comfort and fluff, nothing else I can think of!

Joby takes a long drag from his cigarette. Then let the burn of smoke replace the odd emptiness in his lungs. He's still cold; still freezing inside the too thin material of his leather jacket. The lining manages to hold the stench of tobacco better than any sort of heat. Steps away from his own apartment, he can easily seek the solace of an insulated room.

Yet, he keeps himself at a distance, whittling down his cigarette. These days never seem to end. Since the shift of fall to winter, you've been in a bright, ineffable mood. Every time you had to do anything, holiday music became your soundtrack. The Christmas tree that you'd wanted now lit up a corner of his apartment. A corner that was usually delegated for dirty clothes that he needed to bring to the laundry room. The stench of stale take-out is now replaced by the scent of sugar cookies. Or snow clinging to the limb of a pine tree. Whatever bullshit candle you'd picked up from the store while grocery shopping.

Each of these things were foreign to him. Sure, he knew about the hallmarks of the holidays. But he knew it like a song that he couldn't quite grasp the lyrics of. Though he could hum the tune, the words themselves escaped him. He can't think of a time where he'd known this kind of warmth. Joby spent most of his holidays on the road. He'd found family in the shitty bars his band played cheap Christmas Eve shows for. There were plenty of other sad saps like him who had nothing better to do than spend the holidays wallowing in their own misery with drinking buddies.

As soon as you asked him what he wanted for Christmas, it hit him that no one had asked him that since he was little. And even then, it's not like he'd ever grown up with the means to receive the things on his wish list. Something about the question makes him recoil. It's a bit too close for comfort; he doesn't let himself get this deep into a relationship. But when it's you, it's disarmingly simple.

He thought he'd be immune when you both decorated the tree. He couldn't even bring himself to grumble when you asked him to put the star on the top. It only got worse when your kisses started tasting of peppermint, marshmallow, and mocha. That had him leaning a bit more into you every time, searching for that warmth he didn't know he'd even wanted. That craving scares the hell out of him.

It's why he takes this breather on Christmas morning. It's why part of him hopes that he freezes to death on the porch before he has to go back inside. Because part of him is terrified of those frigid defenses melting away. But his cigarette has nearly burned down to the filter.

Joby breathes out the last puff of smoke with a small cough and flicks the butt off into the snow. It disappears along with his excuse to avoid the inevitable. Because, in truth, the prospect of exchanging gifts with you makes him feel nearly as lightheaded and overwhelmed as a night out after a long show.

Turning to open the door, he's immediately greeted with the scent of sugar and spice from cinnamon rolls you'd put in the oven. Then there's the slow melody of Christmas music playing in the kitchen. It's all sleigh bells and the sound of a choir, a genre that he isn't particularly fond of, but he'll tolerate it today.

"Are you finally ready to open presents?" you ask eagerly, lips curling into a hopeful smile. You're over in the corner of the living room, sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, practically rocking back and forth with excitement like a little kid.

"Yeah, let's get it over with," Joby grumbles, grabbing the Santa hat he'd set down on the coffee table before stepping outside. He pulls it snug over the top of his head and sits beside you.

"Jesus, Mr. Grinch, you smell like a goddamn smokestack this morning."

Joby leans over and gives an exaggerated grin, "Grinch? Does that mean I've got garlic in my teeth too?"

"Oh my god," you chuckle. "That is not the lyric."

"Then what's the lyric?"

"You've got termites in your smile. The garlic's in your soul, baby," you tap his nose and he scrunches it, shooting you a mocking look.

"Hey, you're lucky I even stayed awake during that shit. Cut me a little slack."

With mock offense, you gasp. "Never. How the Grinch Stole Christmas is a classic cartoon and it's not my fault you were raised in the wild without it." Though your tone is teasing, the jab doesn't hit him that way. That's another part of Christmas that is lost on him. He had no clue that there were traditions. Holiday movies that you watched regularly. Little activities that you did with loved ones. Christmas carols that you were supposed to know like the back of your hand. All things that weren't priorities when you were raised by a single mother that usually worked over the holidays.

You notice how quiet he gets over the joke and quickly correct yourself, "That was mean, I'm sorry. Let's get to presents, yeah?"

Joby sniffs, feigning no resentment at the remark. "If you can't wait any longer, then tear it up, princess." He shrugs with a bit of a smirk.

"Okay!" you exclaim, bending over to pull the two wrapped presents from under the tree. You both promised to keep it simple, fully aware that the band's merchandise sales wouldn't have supported an overly indulgent holiday. But you assured him up and down that that would be okay. The cost and quantity of presents didn't matter as long as you got to share the day with him. You'd managed to reiterate that philosophy throughout all of your time with him. You didn't care it he was broke or if he managed to win the lottery on one of the dozens of scratch tickets he bought over the course of a month. As long as he stayed your Joby, you didn't care.

You hand the present you'd wrapped in green patterned paper and topped with a shimmery gold bow to your boyfriend, watching his expression shift from his usual nonchalance to a new nervousness. It only deepens when he glances at you as you inspect his wrapping job on your own present.

Truly, you weren't planning on saying anything more about his wrapping abilities. The more you talked about what you wanted to do with him for the holidays, the more you learned that he didn't really get to experience any of that. So, there was a good chance that nobody ever taught him how to wrap a gift, period. But you couldn't hold back a snicker when you noticed that he'd taped up practically every messily folded edge of the wrapping paper. The pattern was striped red and white like a candy cane. And guessing by the crushed green bow on top and the bashed in corners of the box, you assumed that he'd had it bouncing around the back of his car for a few days before it made it underneath the tree.

Joby blinked quickly and cleared his throat before saying slowly, "Sorry about the wrap job. It's not nearly as good as yours is."

You snort, not being able to find any sort of disappointment inside you to show anything but endearment towards his effort. "No, It's super cute. I like how you chose the biggest bow you possibly could. Very...imposing," you joke. "Maybe next year I'll teach you how to use a little less tape though." You begin your struggle to tear the paper off of the box.

The promise of next year makes Joby's stomach twist and turn. It takes a few more seconds for him to redirect his attention to the gift in his lap. The rectangular package was smaller than yours and he couldn't help but feel partially relieved at that. And even though he was deliberately moving at a snail's pace, the immense amount of tape you were working with ensured that he opened the present in his lap before you opened yours.

That's when he realizes that the package isn't a box, but a book. A book with your handwriting scrawled across the front in black marker saying: Our Memories. With a trembling hand, Joby opens the book and skims over the inscription on the inner cover.

I know this isn't much. But I love being with you and I hope this shows you that. Because you're kind of cool or whatever sometimes. I'm just being stupid. I love you. Merry Christmas, Joby. ♡

As he flips through the book, he takes in page after page filled with pictures from his shows. There's one of Joby and his bandmates backstage, laughing over some joke he doesn't remember. There's one of him holding his arms out for you after a show. There's one of you during a band practice awkwardly holding Joby's guitar while he watches you with an adoring eye. Amongst the pictures are little tokens from dates long since passed. Old receipts from fast food dinners in his car. You'd written lyrics from songs you'd listened to with him during late night drives. There are tickets from his shows that you insisted on buying even though he assured you that you could just go backstage with him for free. He momentarily wonders if that bit of your stubbornness was planned just for this. Joby wouldn't put it past you to be this thoughtful and sentimental.

"How did you...where did you get all of this stuff?" Joby laughs incredulously.

You smile hesitantly, "Oh, you know James takes insane amounts of pictures at like all of the gigs. So I just asked him to print a few. The rest I kind of just...already had saved?"

"You kept all of this?" Joby asks. It's not accusatory; it's more of him genuinely wondering. Wondering what makes him so special that someone would just decide that his dumb doodles on restaurant napkins would be so important that you'd keep them. Why you'd want to remember him at all is a bewildering thought.

"Of course," you scoff. "I like having little things that remind me of you." Like cherishing him is the most natural thing for you to do. But the excitement for the gift in front of you overpowers your urge to completely gush over him. Joby isn't much of a gift giver. His idea of a surprise is grabbing you snacks from the convenience store on his way home from getting gas. So the prospect of having some small thing directly from him already makes you want to scream.

You tug on the flaps to open the box and are face to face with a teddy bear, packed so tightly in the box that you're surprised the package hadn't popped open on its own. Pulling on the limbs, you set the large bear free from its cardboard confines.

Suddenly, Joby feels as though he's walked into a Michelin star restaurant in leather and denim; the gift giving version of underdressed. Underprepared, unqualified, and unworthy of the love you have just given him.

When you look up at Joby again, he begins to explain, "Oh, uh," he fiddles with the torn flaps of paper on his own present. "Remember the last time the band went out of town without you, you said you missed having someone to sleep with? So I thought that uh...next time I'm on the road, he can hold the fort down, ya know..."  Joby shakes his head, not able to fight the rising embarrassment in his expression. "I'm sorry, that sounds so stupid. I should've-"

Joby can hardly get the self deprecating comment out before you cast the plush bear aside and lunge into his arms, wrapping your own arms around his neck. "Are you kidding me?" your voice is muffled against the leather jacket covering his shoulder. "It's perfect. I love it."

Gently placing a hand on your back and attempting to return the tight embrace, he says, "Are you sure? It's not...it's not too cheap, right?"

"Joby, I literally picked up that blank scrapbook for less than a dollar at the Goodwill. Besides, we promised not to stress about spending a bunch of money. I promise you, I love him. But I love you even more."

Joby holds onto you a little tighter and clenches his eyes closed, keeping back the tears that gather at his bottom lash line.

You pull away for a little bit and cup his cheeks. Your lips are so soft and so close to his own chapped ones as you start to whisper, "I'm just gonna need your help naming him."

Joby stares at your soft lips and replies absentmindedly, "Yeah, what are you thinking?"

"I'm really liking Malcolm," you tease. Joby winces at the dumb joke.

He reaches past you to grab the stuffed bear. "Okay, good thing I kept the receipt. Because I think someone's Christmas present is getting returned."

"No, no, no, you can't take him after I've just adopted him! That's cruel!" you giggle with a whine.

Joby clicks his tongue and corrects you, "Ah, cruel is thinking about naming your new cuddle buddy after my idiot bassist." Malcolm is just the right amount of clueless that he would get a big head over the joke. And Joby is just the right amount of cocky to get offended by it. "Think of something else, princess."

Your eyes get big like a lightbulb went off in your head, "I think his working name should be the Grinch."

"The Grinch? I thought I was your Grinch?"

You press your hand over his chest and Joby swears that he stops breathing for a moment when you pause, seeming to listen intently. Finally, you conclude with a gentle peck to his lips, "Nope, not anymore. I'm afraid your heart has grown three sizes this day, Joby Taylor."

Grabbing onto your chin, Joby pulls you back to his mouth to give you a deeper kiss. As you turn your head and sigh into the kiss, Joby smiles to himself. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, does mean a little bit more.

[lost-in-sokovia]

christmas with Annie. im sobbing at the IDEA of it

taylor christmas

warnings: fluff with no plot :)

joby held you close in his arms, his nose nuzzled against your temple. it was cold outside but warm under the covers and in the arms of your love. the white light of the sun through the clouds reflecting on the snow peeled through the blackout curtains and barely lit your room.

it was quiet. it was perfect.

your three year old had woken slowly in her bedroom down the hall. tiny, chubby fists rubbed at her groggy eyes as she took a deep breath. the same bright light from outside lit up her small room as she let out a few coughs. that’s when her mind kicked into gear and she remembered what day it was. she quickly climbed out of her big-girl bed and pattered down the hall to your room, her feet chilly on the wooden floor. she quietly opened the door to your dark bedroom and climbed onto your bed, trying to fit herself between you and joby.

“mommy, mommy…” your daughter whispered. you hummed and joby scrunched his nose for a moment at the disruption.

“hi, pretty girl,” you mumbled groggily as you wrapped annie in your arms. joby cuddled around the other side of her do she was sandwiched between the two of you.

“mommy.”

“hm?”

“santa came to our house,” annie whispered, trying to keep her calm. you kissed her dark bedhead and smiled.

“did he?” you happily asked back. the three year old nodded vigorously and joby chuckled gravelly from behind his daughter.

“did he bring you coal, annie hendrix?” he asked jokingly. annie whipped around and flung herself onto your boyfriend who groaned exaggeratedly at the impact of her little body.

“no, but i bet you got coal, daddy,” annie replied smugly. joby opened his green eyes and tickled her, you laughing as she kicked and squealed. “mommy, can we go open the presents?” she asked as joby nuzzled back against her tiredly. you nodded, sheets rustling as your daughter excitedly tried to break from her father’s grip.

“slow down, hendrix,” joby yawned. annie’s little feet hit the floor and she jumped about at the foot of the bed, her three year old hyperactive energy kicking in.

“come on, come on, come on!”

you stretched your limbs before sitting up, joby slipping on a black robe before wrapping his arms around you. annie rushed out of your room as you melted into joby’s touch. you were both tired, annie had stayed up past her bedtime the previous night therefore you and your boyfriend had to wait until later into the night to play santa claus before you two pursued your own activities.

“i love you,” you hummed. joby squeezed you to him and kissed your hair from behind.

“i love you too, but i do not love staying up late to play santa,” your boyfriend whined. you chuckled and took his hand, leading him out the door.

just as you and joby had left it, presents were scattered in organized chaos beneath the brightly lit christmas tree. annie squealed and you and joby couldn’t help but smile at your daughter’s pure joy. you felt joby tap your shoulder once you two had positioned yourselves on the couch and looked to find him dangling a branch of mistletoe above your heads.

“well, would you look at that,” joby commented. you scoffed and smiled.

“woah, that came out of nowhere!” you joked.

“crazy, right?”

“well i guess there’s only one thing to do,” you sighed theatrically. you leaned over and pressed a kiss to joby’s lips, him placing a hand on your cheek as he kissed you back.

“hey!” annie yelled. you and joby broke apart to see your daughter holding a gift box. “can i go now?” she asked eagerly.

“go for it, peanut,” joby nodded with a small smile. the two of you watched as annie ripped into the wrapping paper and pulled out a pink snake trouble t-shirt. she squealed loudly and launched herself into you and joby’s arms.

“THAT’S DADDY’S BAND!!” your daughter exclaimed.

“do you like it?” joby asked excitedly. annie nodded.

“does santa listen to your band?” annie’s green eyes met her father’s.

“hell yeah he does! daddy has the coolest band ever,” joby replied smugly. you nodded in agreement, smoothing your daughter’s messy hair.

“go find one for daddy,” you told her gently. annie hopped off and quickly searched the pile for green santa wrapping paper, the paper all of joby’s gifts were wrapped in.

“is it bad we’re making our three year old pass out gifts?” you mumbled with a small laugh as your tiny daughter continued to search.

“nah, look how excited she is.” joby smiled. you hummed. “plus, it’s our turn to relax.” he squeezed you to him with a sigh.

“i love you, joby taylor.”

“i love you too, princess.”

annie plopped a box on joby’s lap with a giant grin on her face.