#like what was the reason for the belt grab?

[thecowboyfiles]

.°˖⋆ ℧ 𓃽 .°˖⋆

📂 Current File: ▼ ▶ 1.0_newfriend.mov

ⓘ Rhett x Transmasc Reader

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If you were truthful, you felt extremely out of place in a cowboy bar. The only reason that you were even there was because your friends knew that you had a thing for cowboys, and the only way you’d get one was to go to an actual cowboy bar. No way you were going to get the kind of msn you yearned for at the clubs and raves your friends liked to frequent.

Although you had always gone with your friends to every single kind of party or club that they had the notion to go to, they told you you were on your own for this one. They didn’t understand your affinity for cowboys or anything to do with rodeos and only made jokes every time they saw anything even resembling a cowboy hat, belt buckle or cowboy boots.

That’s how you ended up, alone, at a cowboy bar you’d never been to before, only visiting the town to take in a rodeo. So far, you hadn’t put yourself out there like you promised you would; it was just much more intimidating approaching these men like you thought. Boys raised on country and rodeos seemed to have a view on masculinity that didn’t involve being hit on by other men.

Suddenly, you’re pulled from your thoughts by the entire bar erupting into cheers and whistles. You have to sit up in the booth that you were currently lounging in, so you can see what’s going on. Part of you hopes that maybe a fight had broken out, it would add a little excitement to what was otherwise turning out to be a very uneventful evening. What you saw when you looked up, though, was not flying fists but the most handsome cowboy you’d ever seen in your life.

You’re staring, you know you are, but you can’t help it, especially when his friends start to chant his name, and you recognize it, it’s the name of the rider who was at the top of the leaderboard. You hadn’t gotten a look at him then— at least not his face but now you were, and then the unthinkable happened. He was looking right back at you.

It was just a split second, his eyes caught yours across the bar, and then he looked away, but to your surprise, he did a double-take and looked back, giving you a soft, shy smile. Far too shy for a champion bull rider.

That’s where it ended, that’s where it always ended. You had no reason to think that this time would be any different until most of the people in the bar had finally pulled their attention away from the man of the night. Just as you finished the last of your beer and decided to head home for the night, you saw him walking toward you.

“Figured you could use another beer,” Rhett smiles at you, lifting the bottle in his right hand toward you. “Looks like I’m just in time,” He nods toward the empty beer in your hand and then sets two new ones down on the table and sits without even asking.

“You are,” You can’t help but chuckle, grabbing the bottle. “I was just about to head out, actually.”

“Oh, you were, were you?” Rhett smirks lightly, “Well, I hope I can convince you to stay for this last beer.”

You hum softly, bringing the opening of your bottle to your lips. “Yeah, I think you could, I’m pretty easily convinced.”

“How easily?” Rhett asks, and his eyes sparkle even over the mouth of his own beer bottle that he was bringing to his lips.

“Let’s just say… I’ve got a thing for cowboys.”

***

That’s how both of you ended up in the bar bathroom that was dingy enough to rival a truck stop, your lips practically glued to Rhett’s and huffing air out of your nose whenever you remembered that you had to breathe.

“Wait I gotta um…” You pull back from him, still breathing embarrassingly heavy, soothing down your shirt. Your chest was flat now, but there was still another part of your body that you felt you needed to ‘warn’ him about before this goes any further. Rhett brings a hand up and runs it over his mouth. “What is it? You don’t wanna fuck in this bar bathroom?”

“No, I do, I definitely do,” You chuckle, happy that things still feel light and easy. “It’s just that um… well I’m transgender and I haven’t got bottom surgery yet so… I understand if you wanna stop this here.” It was a sentence that you had stated multiple times, so you fully expected everything to stop right then and there.

Flicking his tongue out over his lips, Rhett’s lips turn up slightly on one side, and his blue eyes track you up and down. “Now why in the world would I wanna stop, hm?”

You hadn’t realized how much you had been hoping to hear those words until you felt your body completely deflate out of relief. Instead of responding, you step forward and press your lips against his again.

He’s quick to slide his big, warm hands under your shirt, rubbing them lightly up and down your ribs, smiling against your lips. He steps back for a moment, hand going up to remove the brown cowboy hat that sits on top of his head.

You bring your own up, grabbing onto his forearm. “Wait, no… leave the hat on.” You can’t help but flush a little, biting at your swollen bottom lip.

Rhett gives a low chuckle, looking you up and down again. “I got a better idea.” He still removes his hat despite your protests, but instead of placing it on the sink behind him, he places it right on top of your head. “Hold on to this for me, will ya, Darlin’?”

The rumble in his voice makes your stomach tighten, and you answer by grinding against his denim-clad thigh with a soft whine.

“Such a needy boy, huh?” Rhett smirks. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of ya, I got exactly what you need.”

It happens quickly, Rhett is reaching in between your bodies and unclips his belt, popping the button and pulling his hard, leaking cock out of its confines. You reach for the button on your own jeans, but he stops you, holding your wrists lightly before he lets go and does it himself. He pushes down your jeans, holds the base of his cock and pushes into you, all in what seems like one swift motion.

"Oh, fuck," You groan out, grasping onto him like a lifeline while the feel of his thick cock stretching your cunt takes your breath away.

Rhett is less vocal than you, but there's something about the way he grunts on each thrust, the way that he clenches his jaw, and his eyelids keep fluttering, you know it feels good even if he doesn't say it.

He pauses for a second, lifting you. You wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to help him, regardless of whether he thinks he needs it. He sets you down on the bathroom counter and maybe you should be concerned about the fact that your bare ass was on this dirty tile, but you barely have time to think about it because Rhett is pumping into you at a bruising pace. All you can do is hang on, arm around his neck and kiss the skin there just to muffle your growing sounds of pleasure.

"Fuck, m'close, pretty boy," Rhett's voice is choked and rough, clearly trying to hold back until he knows weather you're close too.

"Yeah, yeah, me too," You gasp out, clenching around his thick length. "Just... just a little faster."

When Rhett does cum, it's seconds after you, and it's the loudest he's been all night, his moan echoing off the walls, hips stuttering against yours.

The afterglow of orgasm is slightly ruined by someone knocking on the door and you barely have enough time to catch your breath let alone speak, so you never get the chance to ask Rhett if he'd like to do this again. You also don't get to return his hat.

In a pathetic show of hope, you return to the bar the next night, and the next, just hoping to catch a glimpse of the blonde cowboy with the pretty blue eyes. You'd almost given up when the door pushes open and Rhett walks in, dip pushing out his lower lip.

"Hey there, Pretty Boy, I believe you stole something of mine,"

"Stole?" You raise an eyebrow though you do lift up the brown cowboy hat that was on the chair next to you. "I seem to remember you giving this hat up pretty easily."

"Maybe I just realized I would never be able to stop thinking about you and I needed a reason to see you again so I could ask you out on a real date. One that ends in a bed and not a bathroom."

[blushingsastiel]

One more step. Theo can take one more step. Sure, the pain in his arm is making his head buzz, but what's a few more steps? Just a few more towards his truck. He can even see it from where he is.

It's not that far away.

So why does he feel like it's getting further and further away from him?

(Oh, you know, just the delirium.)

His arm hurts, his head hurts, his face hurts. Theo's whole body feels sore and untouchable. If he could, he wouldn't even let his clothes touch his skin right now, but he doesn't think he can shift right now (not in this headspace since he prefers to be more level headed).

"Theo?"

The chimera snaps his head up from where he was staring at the ground, head feeling so heavy that he didn't lift it.

What in the actual hell was Scott doing here?

Scott was standing in front of Theo's truck in clothes that looked like maybe his pajamas. Like maybe he had just woken up and came straight here. The chimera didn't see his bike anywhere, so the alpha must have walked all the way here (more like ran...).

"Woah, Theo, you're bleeding," Scott says, stepping forward and grabbing both of Theo's forearms.

"Mm-hmm," was all Theo could get past his lips in the state he was in.

The warmth of Scott's fingers on his skin and just knowing his alpha was there soothed Theo. To the point that his legs turned to mush and he slumped forward onto Scott.

"Woah, woah, woah," the alpha panicks, quickly wrapping his arms more securely around the chimera.

It's terrifyingly easy for Scott to keep up Theo's weight, no sign of straining just yet in his posture.

Because they're so close to Theo's truck, it doesn't take long for Scott to gently manhandle Theo into the passenger seat.

"Pocket..." Theo rasps.

It kinda hurts to even talk (he was screaming so much in that basement), but Scott seems to get the message that the truck keys are in his pocket. The alpha reaches into his jean pocket and carefully extracts the object.

Once they're in his palm, Scott grabs the seat belt and crosses it over Theo's body before clicking it into place. His hand lingers on the seat belt for a moment too much.

Theo's eyes are almost closed, so he can only see a sliver of his surroundings. He doesn't really see Scott's face, only his hands. But Scott's hands are hovering over his, as if he's unsure if he can touch him or check over him.

Or maybe take his pain.

In the time that Theo has been somewhat part of the McCall pack (a few members deem Theo as part of it, like the puppy pack, while others see him as more of an ally. Theo isn't sure which group Scott resides, but it doesn't stop the chimera from referring to Scott as his alpha — only in his mind, though, never out loud), he rarely lets anyone touch him. Liam tends to touch him the most, but it's because they've grown rather close in the past few years.

They're each other's anchors at the end of the day, and with Theo living at the Dunbar-Geyer's house (even when Liam is at college), it feels more and more that they're like family.

Besides Liam, it's so very rare for anyone to touch him.

A huge reason is because Theo isn't used to someone wanting to touch him without hurting him. But another reason is Theo doesn't believe anyone from the McCall pack owes him anything. They don't owe him a touch to take away his pain. They don't owe him a friendly touch, signaling that they care about him. Not after what he did.

Even though Scott must know that Theo is iffy about touch, he grabs his wrist. He feels the pain leak out of him slowly. His mind looses some of the buzzing.

Theo can't help but sigh in relief.

After Scott took some more pain away, he lets go and hurriedly closes the passenger door before sliding into the driver's side after going around.

"I'm going to take you to my house, okay? I know you live with Liam, but I want to make sure you're okay first," the alpha announced as he started driving Theo's truck.

(This is quite the feat for someone else to drive Theo's car. He honestly hates driving, but it's his truck. It's where he used to live and sleep in and try to feel some sort of comfort in. His truck is something irrevocably his own. Letting Scott drive doesn't raise any alarm bells. If anything, Theo sinks into his seat knowing he can trust the alpha to get them somewhere safe.)

All Theo does is hum before closing his eyes.

Gentle hands guided Theo to the living room couch and pushed him down to sit on the comfortable cushions. A lot of Theo felt tired and ready to lay down, but in the back of his mind, he also felt safe. It's similar to how he feels at Liam's house. Knowing there was someone in close vicinity that would protect him and care for him. Not because they had to, but because they actually wanted to.

Scott's house makes him feel the same way.

Theo opened his eyes to see Scott kneeled down in front of him. His eyes look worried, they're darting around his face and the rest of his body; his gaze hardens when he spots the blood-soaked spots of his shirt and jeans.

But, it takes a few minutes for Scott to see the marks around his neck. The chimera had his head so lowered that his neck wasn't really visible, but when Scott delicately lifts his chin with his fingers, he gasps.

Scott doesn't dare try to touch his neck, but his eyes roam all around.

"How did you get away?"

He has to swallow before he answers his alpha. Theo's voice is shaky as he speaks, "They didn't tie the rope correctly. The more I struggled, the looser it got."

The chimera feels weak beneath his alpha's gaze. It's not frequently where Theo gets hurt this badly by hunters, so his pride is in definite need of soothing. Theo tries to be an ally of the McCall pack where Scott can believe that Theo can handle anything. That he is someone to rely on. It's something Theo tries to project because if he can't have Scott the way he wants, he at least wants to be seen as useful.

It's quiet as Theo watches Scott lower his head and breathe in deeply. Anger and guilt swirl around the room with so much pressure that Theo wants to whine, try to get Scott's attention away from whatever thoughts are clouding his brain and causing such strong feelings (Theo doesn't put two and two together to understand that Scott is angry because someone hurt him).

"How did you find me?"

It's something that's been on his mind this whole time. When he first saw Scott, he couldn't believe it. That Scott was right in front of his eyes when he needed him most.

"Instinct, I think. I just felt that I had to be there," Scott answers cryptically. "I'm glad I was. If I wasn't there—"

The alpha doesn't finish his sentence before he cuts himself off. His jaw is clenched tightly, so tightly Theo can see it.

It makes the chimera want to smooth it all way with his fingertips.

Scott physically shakes himself before he relaxes, letting his soft gaze focus once more on Theo. He takes a few more breaths before speaking. "Can I wipe your face? Before you take a shower?"

The chimera bites his lip and stays quiet for a moment. Having Scott's absolute and complete attention on him while he's cleaning his face makes him nervous. It makes him flustered. Scott isn't even touching him, and Theo feels as if he's sweating (maybe that's not just from Scott... and maybe it has to do with how exhausted Theo is but alright...).

His pulse may be fluttering; he can't quite tell because he's just too bone tired to try to keep it under control. Loosing control is something he hates to do, but he'll let it go just for now. Just until he's slightly better when it doesn't feel as if he could sink to the ground.

He's been quiet for too long.

"Sure," Theo manages to croak out. His neck hurts, hurts, hurts.

"Okay," Scott breathes out before quickly getting a washcloth. It's a pretty fuzzy cloth when Scott presses it against his cheek. The material is also damp with warm water, and Theo cannot help but close his eyes again.

Theo feels as if he can trust Scott enough to close his eyes even when sometimes he doesn't sleep for a few days besides a couple hours of sleep because of how paranoid he is.

But with Scott, the chimera knows, absolutely knows, he can relax in his presence.

The alpha moves from his cheek to his chin and then to the other side of his face (at this point, Theo is leaning forward, almost falling against Scott's chest).

The motions are almost soothing even though there's tiny cuts across his face from when Theo was running through the woods. He didn't want to risk using his eyes to alert any hunters his locations. The yellow glow would give him away instantly in the dark forest. Low tree branches smacked him in the face as he ran.

He remembers it stinging a lot, but Theo didn't have the luxury to stop. All he could do, the only choice he had, was to keep running despite the pain.

"All done," Scott murmurs, voice low. "Let's get you to my bed. I need to make some calls to Argent and Stilinski, but you need to shower and then sleep."

Before he knows it, Theo spouts out a question, "You'll sleep with me in your bed, right?"

It's too late to take it back... but Theo, deep down in the cracks of his heart and chest, wouldn't want to. This is something he's been craving for, longing for: Scott.

"Um, I mean — I was going to sleep on the floor," Scott stutters his way through his reply.

Theo shakes his head. "Don't. Please. I'll feel... better with you close."

"Okay, yeah, I can do that," the alpha breathed.

All Theo does is nod once before slowly heading towards the stairs to go take that relaxing shower he knows will do loads to help him feel better.

Before he can get far, Scott calls out to him, voice a little rough, "You'll be safe here, Theo. I'll keep you safe."

"I know," Theo instantly replies.

Because Theo does know Scott can and will be able to keep him safe. In all honesty, Theo has been the one constant person that has kept himself safe, mostly out of harms way (not all the time, but you get the point). He's had to do everything in his power to make sure he makes it day after day.

But, Theo has been trying to learn that he can't do it all alone. There will be people, like Scott, who want to help and who can help him make it through the day.

With Scott, it's not solely the physical attributes of him being a True Alpha that make Theo feel secure, but also his presence.

Pretty much, everything about Scott.

It feels nice to have him close, within arms reach.

[mid-knight-black]

The “you wanna go for the title” scene is still the gayest thing to have happened in Buck’s kitchen, and he made out with a man in there 🙄

[prosypepper]

lucky you! feat. k. nanami

cw: very very suggestive, not proofread at all, probably bad, inspired by my new tattoo ^3^. 18+ mdni!

kento nanami knew his wife was full of surprises.

he learned this exactly three months into your relationship, before the years of marriage and life together, after you undressed for the first time. well—it was more like, after you guys were done with your first time, cuddled up in bed afterwards.

you’d thrown a leg over him, blank ink against the skin under your ass caught his attention. he tried to crane his neck as much as possible without startling you—trying to make out the detail on your leg he somehow missed.

he glanced in the mirror. though tiny, the cursive black letters curved against the round of your ass, and read out two words:

lucky you!

that was about the hottest thing kento had ever seen in his life. so much so he was almost convinced to wake you up for another round—until you began to snore against his chest.

he asked you about it the morning after.

“oh that? i was drunk and my friends convinced me to get it. i’m glad it’s in a place no one can see it.”

secretly, and almost selfishly, kento was too. he took a liking to the tattoo, for reasons unknown to you and to him too, really. he made a point running his thumb over it, started touching your backside more, even pulling up your dress just to see it. to run his hands over it.

to remind him that, yes, he was in fact lucky to even know of such a thing on your body.

what you didn’t know is that your husband is also full of surprises.

later down the line, after a very long work trip, your husband was finally home. he wasn’t your husband then—but he may as well have been. the tension of not seeing one another for so long snapped in an instant, right in the living room.

hands all over eachother, grabbing and kissing and leaving marks on one another’s skin, you dropping to the floor almost immediately—too quick for kento’s liking.

nonetheless, he let you unbuckle his belt and then undo his slacks, you took in his scent like a drug. he bit his lip in anticipation, lifting his hips for you to discard of his pants, almost drawing blood when your fingers hooked into his boxers. you pulled them down slow, teasing, looking him straight in the eyes.

yet something else caught your attention, two words in an almost identical cursive font on the top of your husband’s right thigh, dangerously close to his v-line:

lucky you!

[trusweethrt]

— ୨ৎ panties to the side

summary: teasing rafe with the lingerie he gifted you so much during your valentines date, he snaps and bends you over the counter in a restaurant bathroom.

content warnings: not proofread. contains smut, mdni. rafe's (very canon) obsession with lace. unprotected p in v. dirty talk. public sex. implications of almost being caught at the end. lmk if i missed anyway <3

authors note: very excited about valentines day if you couldn't tell. a little pissed cause why is it so hard to find cute valentines pics?! ( •᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ ) anywaysss, enjoy!!

it was all his fault—or at least that's how you viewed it. he had left you all alone for several weeks to go on some stupid trip to Morocco that he wouldn't give up the smallest detail about. and it's not like you could easily satisfy yourself either; rafe meant it when he said nothing and no one could compare to him. not to mention all of your toys that mysteriously went missing the day he left. so of course you'd be a little extra needy the day he came back.

rafe was trying to be patient with you—he really was. but you kept leaning over in that tight sexy low cut red dress, purposely putting your perfect tits on full display for him; and they way he'd catch you eye fucking him whenever you thought he wasn't looking made him want to rip that dress off of you in front of everyone.

the worst part is how infuriatingly coy you've been acting all night whenever he'd try to confront you; casually brushing it off as him being dirty minded.

“rafe.” you drawl, looking up from the menu and finding rafe starring at your exposed cleavage for what seemed like the thousandth time tonight. his tongue instinctively sticks out to lick his lips, eyes darting up to meet yours before he clears his throat, leaning back in his seat. he was already unashamedly hard under the table, not at all bothering to hide it. “yeah, sweetheart?”

“i need to go to the bathroom n touch up my makeup. tell the waiter i want the chicken marsala when they come over, ‘kay?” you murmured, already standing from your seat and grabbing your purse. “alright,” rafe hummed, calling after you “hurry back, yeah?”

“uh huh.” you nod curtly, trying to fight smirk on your face as you purposely let your tube of lip gloss slip from your bag. all so you could bend over and pick it up on your way to the bathroom, causing your tiny dress to ride up, exposing the swell of your ass to him, clad in the red lacy panties he had surprised you with this morning—the ones he specifically told you to save for tonight.

that's all it took for rafe to snap and confirm you knew exactly what you've been doing all night.

he shot up from his seat, the metal legs of the chair scraping against the marble floors as he hasted to the women's bathroom, swinging the door open, eliciting gasps from both you and the other two women at the sinks.

“you two get the hell out.” rafe grunted, already moving behind you to press his hand to the small of your back, bending you over the counter as the women hurriedly grab their things and leave the bathroom.

“can't fuckin take you anywhere, hm?” his hands travel down, lifting the bottom of your dress, bunching it around your waist. “mmh, just couldn't wait til later.” you respond softly, hooking your fingers into the waistband of your panties to pull them down, only to have rafe grip your wrists and place your hands onto the counter in front of you. “nah, keep em on. bought them for a reason, yeah?”

the rattle of his belt being undone fills the bathroom, the sound of his zipper unfastening following soon after. he slides his pants along with his boxers down in one swift movement, letting them fall to his ankles, revealing his hard and throbbing cock; the tip flushed with beads of precum dripping down the shaft.

he pulls his tongue between his teeth as he uses one hand to hook his fingers in the gusset of your panties to push them aside, the material of the lace rubbing against your sensitive bud, making a soft whimper leave your mouth. “ah, yeah—fuck—look at that. all fuckin wet just by me sitting there. tsk tsk, you've gotten nastier since i've been gone, yeah?” he groans, eyes fixed on the way your juices are saturating your panties. “damn, baby...i love these panties on you..so pretty. gonna order you ten more when we get home, alright?” you could tell how true that statement was by the way his fingers ran over the lace, admiring the delicate pattern against your skin with an intense stare.

rafe ran his tongue over his bottom lip, rubbing his flushed tip through your puffy drenched folds before easily sliding into your drooling cunt. “o-oh my gosh” you mewl, hands gripping the counter as his cock slides in and out of you in quick, deep strokes; your gummy walls clenching around him every time he brushes against your cervix. “fuuck.” rafe groaned, jaw going slack as he grabbed onto the fabric of your panties, pulling you back into him to meet his thrust “grippin me so fuckin good.”

“bet this is all you were think’n about, huh? you knew what you were doing all night, baby. you just needed this cock, hm?” rafe murmured, watching you through the mirror—the way your glossed lips parted, brows furrowed in pleasure, eyes fluttering whenever his angle would change ever so slightly.

“mmhm.” you reply in a whine, your grip on the counter tightening as you bite down on your already swollen lips, trying to keep your moans and whimpers from being heard by anyone behind the door. “shit, that all you can say? got’cha all speechless already.” a strangled moan leaves you in response, your mind becoming cloudy and overwhelmed as his thumb presses to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles on the throbbing bud.

“r-rafe...” you whimper as your legs start trembling and your eyes squeeze shut. rafe groans softly, feeling you start to clench around him. “mmh i know, i know,” he murmured, the speed of both his hips and thumb increasing. “you gonna cum, yeah? go on, baby...lemme have it.”

your eyes roll back as the coil in your stomach finally snaps and you have to bite onto your lip harshly to keep yourself from screaming as your orgasm washes over you. rafe continues his thrusts as your cunt flutters around him, your body slumping over the counter as he helps you ride out your climax.

the way you squeezed around him pushed rafe over the edge, jaw going slack as his cock twitches inside of you, thick, hot ropes of cum painting your walls. “fuuck.” he moans as his eyes flutter shut briefly before they open again, watching you through the mirror. leisurely, his movements fade until he eventually comes to a halt, his breathing ragged.

leaning forward, rafe plants a few kisses on your trembling body, opening his mouth to speak before he's interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.

shit.

taglist 🪽: : @bunbun-3 @drewscoquette @untitled10351 @rafesweetie @meetmebehindthemallrafe @supercutelovergirl @plaidcowboy @missquantic @rafesdiorperfume @minitarayummy @this-one-weeb @akobx @mystianqel @lacebambidoll @dolletebun @milamilkie @ch6rm

[strangerexee]

(2) ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ ɢɪᴀɴᴛꜱ | ᴇʟɪᴊᴀʜ "ꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ" ᴍᴏᴏʀᴇ

𝙼𝙾𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙽!𝙶𝙰𝙽𝙶!𝙰𝚄

pairings: Elijah "smoke" Moore x black!fem!reader

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 | 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 | 𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚐/𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜 | 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎/𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 | 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚜 | 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 (𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜), 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 | 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝-𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚢 | 𝚃𝚆𝙸𝙽 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙵𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽 | 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗.

It had been a couple weeks.

Two and a half, to be exact.

Not like you were counting.

Okay. You were.

He said he’d call.

He didn’t.

Didn’t hit your line. Didn’t pop up. Didn’t say not one damn word.

Which was fine. Totally fine. You weren’t pressed.

Not really.

You had a life. A job. Rent. A soft little routine. Did your Target runs. Lit your candles. Even hooked your iPad up to the TV like a suburban housewife and watched your little shows.

But still.

Every time your phone buzzed? Your eyes flicked to the screen too fast.

You tried not to, but your body did it anyway.

It was dumb. You knew that.

A man like that don’t linger. Don’t play house. Don’t kiss you soft and sit on your couch like he belonged there unless he’s got a reason. And if you weren’t the reason — well. You wasn’t gonna beg for it.

So you did what hot, sad bitches do when they need a reset.

You got dressed.

And hit the club.

Your friends were already inside when you walked up. Music spilling out the door. Bass so heavy it shook the sidewalk.

You were cute, too. Thighs out. Gloss poppin’. That short dress that hugged you like a problem.

One of your girls whistled when she saw you.

“Ouuu, not you comin’ out like you got revenge on your mind — who got you feelin’ sexy like that, girl?” “Nobody,” you lied. “I just needed some air.” “Uh huh.”

Whatever.

You grabbed a drink and danced anyway.

Tried to lose yourself in the crowd, in the bass, in the strobe lights and the slippery neon fog.

Tried not to think about him.

But God ain’t like you. He don’t let you lie for long.

Because when you turned around —

There he was.

Smoke.

Not in a hoodie this time.

Nope.

Tonight, he was in a black tee that hugged his arms and hung loose off his belt, jeans low on his hips like a sin, gold chain catching every light in the room.

He looked so good, you damn near moaned on sight.

Lord.

It's been too weeks too long and you forgot how tall he was. How that walk looked — slow, heavy, like he was carrying something dangerous in his back pocket.

His eyes found you like they’d been searching all night.

And when they landed?

Whew.

That stare had you wanting to throw your phone across the damn club.

You didn’t move.

Didn’t smile.

Didn’t give him shit.

You just kept sipping your drink, real slow, like your knees weren’t already warm and turned away, as if that would make everything better.

He came up behind you, didn’t say nothing. Just leaned in a little — voice deep, low, close enough to brush your ear.

“I was gon’ call.”

You turned your head a little, gave him a look.

“Uh huh.” “I had to handle some shit.” “Of course you did.”

His eyes dragged down your body like he was trying to catch up for lost time.

“Missed me?”

You scoffed, rolled your eyes.

“You missed me,” he said, already sure.

You started to say something slick, but he was already reaching — hand sliding around your waist like it was made to be there.

“You look good, baby,” he said. And lord…the way he said baby.

Like a prayer. Like a promise. Like a problem you couldn’t wait to get tangled up in again.

“You ain’t supposed to be out here alone,” he muttered against your ear, voice wrapped in molasses. “I’m not alone.” “You ain’t with me.” “You not my man.” “Yet.”

Girl.

You had to finish your drink just to keep from screaming.

Your friends were watching.

One of them caught your eye and made the oooh he fineee face. You ignored her. Barely.

“Why you here?” you asked. “Don't you got corners to haunt or empires to run?”

“Empire still standing. I wanted to see you.”

“And you just knew I’d be here?”

He smirked.

��Like I said. People talk. Eyes on you.” “That’s not creepy at all.” “I ain’t tryin’ to be cute. I’m tryin’ to keep you safe.”

Safe.

You hated that the word made something in your chest flutter.

“You don’t even know me,” you said. He leaned down just a little, nose brushing your cheek.

“I know enough.”

He didn’t try to dance. Didn’t drag you off. Just stood there. Close. Warm.

Watching you.

Protecting you...?

Claiming you without saying the words.

And you let him.

Because what else were you gonna do?

Act like your thighs weren’t shaking? Pretend that kiss from two weeks ago didn’t haunt your dreams? Lie and say you didn’t want his hands on your skin?

You finally turned to face him.

Head tilted. Arms folded. Slick as always.

“You done handling whatever that shit was?”

His smile was slow this time. Crooked.

“Not even close,” he said. “But I’ll make time for you.”

You were maybe halfway through your sixth drink when the tipsy started to hit.

Not the sloppy kind.

The cute kind. The I’m smiling a little too hard, my hips feel loose, and I want to make bad decisions with a good-smelling man kind.

And lordddd—he was right there.

Still standing behind you, still close. One big hand ghosting the curve of your waist like he knew you were starting to melt.

“I shouldn’t let you drink like that,” he murmured, deep and gravelly, against the shell of your ear.

“Why?”

“‘Cause then you gon’ start actin’ up.” You leaned back a little, smiling like a brat. “And what if I wanna act up?”

He exhaled — low and slow, like you were getting to him.

You were.

You felt it.

His hand slid lower, not too low, but just enough to let you know he wasn’t playing fair.

“You tryin’ to get in trouble?” “Already in it,” you muttered.

And that was it.

That was all it took.

Next thing you knew, you were in the back of a sleek black car, windows tinted too dark to be legal, the city sliding past like it was watching you make a mistake.

You weren’t even nervous.

You should’ve been.

But you weren’t.

“Where we going?” you asked, a little breathy, a little buzzed, legs crossed and hand pressed to your thigh like you needed to keep your heart from leaping out.

“My place,” he said. “Is it nice?”

He didn’t answer. Just looked at you out the corner of his eye, smirk curling his lip like ‘you’ll see.’

And baby. You saw.

His house?

Was not a regular ass house.

This was not no “man cave, LED lights, half-eaten wings on the counter” type of bachelor spot. No.

This was grown. This was dangerous man with money and secrets levels of fine.

Soft lights. Dark wood. Cold stone countertops. Art on the walls that looked like it cost more than your whole rent for a good couple months. A massive floor-to-ceiling window facing the city skyline.

And it was quiet.

No TVs blaring. No music. Just the low hum of the fridge and the sound of your heels hitting the floor as you walked in like you hadn’t just made the worst best decision of your week.

“Smoke,” you breathed, doing a slow turn. “What the hell do you do?”

He took your jacket, didn’t answer. Just hung it on a hook and walked past you like he owned everything in the world.

“You want some water?” “Nah, I want you.”

You hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

But you were tipsy. And a little freaky. And he looked so good, standing there all quiet and fine with his jaw clenched and his eyes low like he could already smell what you wanted.

You took a few steps toward him.

And he didn’t move.

Just let you come close, slow, like you were testing something.

Your hands slid up his chest — slow — and lord that man was solid.

He looked down at you like you were a riddle he wanted to solve with his mouth.

You tilted your head, smiled. “Still tryna keep me safe?” He dipped his head a little, whispering — “I’m tryna keep you mine.”

Whewwwww.

He kissed you before you could even react.

Hard.

Like he’d been starving. Like he was mad you were out there in the world and not already pressed against him like this.

And you… Baby. You melted.

Gripped his shirt. Lifted on your toes. Moaned into his mouth like a little problem.

He picked you up so fast your brain lagged a second. Next thing you knew, your legs were around his waist, your back was on some soft-ass couch, and his mouth was on your neck like he was trying to figure out where to bite first.

“Goddamn,” you gasped, grabbing at him. “Why you this fine?” He just chuckled low, a little mean.

“You still drunk?” You nodded. “A little.” “You always act like this when you drink?” “…maybe.”

He pulled back, eyes dark and glinting.

“You gon’ let me find out?”

Let?

LET??

Sir.

You were already undone.

Already laying there squirming with your dress riding up and your pulse thumping like a bassline.

So you sat up. Slid your hands under his shirt. Let your mouth trail down his throat just enough to make him grunt.

“Why don’t you show me what you been handling these last two weeks?”

That was all it took.

He picked you up again like you weighed nothing, carried you through that fancy ass house like a fever dream, and the next thing you knew —

You were in his bedroom.

And girl.

It was worse.

Soft gray sheets. Pillars of shadow and light. More floor-to-ceiling windows with the moon shining right in.

Like something out of a movie.

Or a memory you’d been waiting to fall into.

He laid you down so gentle it made your heart ache. Palmed your thigh. Watched your face. Like he needed permission. Like he needed you to say yes even though your body already had.

You pulled him down by the chain around his neck. “You gone keep playing with me or what?”

And then — he stopped.

Just for a second.

Looked at you.

Really looked.

And he said—

“You sure?”

And girl. That’s when you knew.

You were cooked.

Because even though his voice was deep and mean and velvet-rich, there was care in it.

And that made you want him more than anything.

So you pulled him in and whispered, “Don’t make me ask twice.”

And he didn’t.

One second you were teasing him by that chain, and the next — you were on your stomach, hips lifted, cheek pressed to the plush of that expensive-ass comforter, looking back with your brows furrowed.

He’d pulled your dress up and your panties down like they offended him.

Didn’t even rush. Didn’t talk much. Just stood there behind you for a second, one big hand gripping the meat of your thigh like he was lining up a shot he was not gonna miss.

And then —

Lord.

That first stroke?

Deep. Slow. Painfully good.

You gasped into the sheets, fingers grabbing for anything, back arching nasty off instinct.

“Smoke —”

He exhaled real low. Did it again. Slid back in like he was tryna carve himself into your soul.

And you felt all of him.

Thick. Heavy. Dragging against every soft spot you had with a pace that was filthy in its control.

He fucked you like he had all night. Like he didn’t need to chase it. Like he was making you lose your mind first.

And babyyy — you were.

You were gasping into the sheets, body rocking forward with every stroke, thighs trembling, toes curling hard in the blanket.

“Shitttt — smoke—” He groaned behind you. “You takin’ it so good.”

That voice???

That deep, almost lazy voice like he was in a trance from the way you squeezed around him every time he slid back in??

It had you GONE.

You tried to push back. Tried to meet him stroke for stroke. But he caught your hips—held them down with both hands like 'nah, let me work.'

And he did.

Deep, slow strokes that ached. That made you whimper and slap the mattress with a shaking hand like—'goddamn.'

You were losing it.

Legs starting to give out. Back arched up so sweet your lower spine was humming. Face buried in the blanket, eyes rolling every time he bottomed out with a thick, quiet grunt.

“Fuck, baby, you feel — mm — you feel too good,” he muttered, a little strained now. Like your shit was really getting to him.

And it was.

You felt him twitch. Felt his grip tighten. Felt his rhythm falter just a little as he locked his hips deeper and held it.

Just pressed into your ass, thick and full and pulsing, like he wanted to live there.

But he didn’t come.

That man just pulled out slow, grunted under his breath — “mm-mm. Not yet.” And flipped you over.

Round two came fast.

Didn’t even give you time to breathe.

Your legs were still shaking. Your pussy still clenching at air like it missed him.

But he was back.

Kissing you messy now. Dragging the tip across your folds just to tease before sinking back in.

Faster.

Not too fast. But more urgent. More filthy. More 'I should’ve had you weeks ago and I’m making up for it now.'

You moaned loud, head thrown back, nails dragging down his back like — 'yes please thank you more.'

He buried his face in your neck, groaning now. Little, breathless sounds against your skin. Hands planted firm on either side of your head, his body caging you in.

He fucked you like he wanted to own every damn part of you.

Your moans. Your breath. Your arch. Your fucking soul.

And when he hit that spot?

When that thick dick curved just right and dragged over it a few times like he was taking notes??

You folded.

Tried to close your legs. Tried to twist away.

He didn’t let you.

Just grabbed your thighs and pushed deeper. Mouth at your ear now — “Where you goin’, huh?” “You was talkin’ all that shit — now you running?” “Take it. Take all this dick.”

You screamed.

Not loud. Not theatrical. Just real.

A raw, gutted moan from deep in your chest that came right with that sharp, perfect burst of pleasure that had you seeing stars.

Your orgasm hit hard.

Made your whole body clench around him like a fist. Back arched, hands clutching the sheets like you were scared you might float away.

And still — he didn’t come.

He kept going. Harder. Meaner. Like he was chasing it now, low growls spilling from his chest like thunder.

He buried his face in your neck again. Grunted once.

And finally — finally — he twitched inside you, hips stuttering as he filled you up with a hot, heavy pulse that made you moan again.

Just one long, breathless “fuckkkk.”

The room was quiet after that.

Except your breathing. And his.

Both of you laying there, sticky and tangled up in the mess y’all made, heartbeats racing like you just ran through the apocalypse hand-in-hand.

He kissed your shoulder. Real soft. Almost shy.

You laughed a little — voice hoarse. “You gon ghost me again?”

He looked up from your neck.

And that man smirked.

“After this?” he said, slow, cocky, voice low as hell. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

You ain't even realize he pulled out until the bed creaked, real soft-like, and the heat of his body left you.

You blinked. Felt all loose and jelly-limbed, like your bones had melted under that big ass man. Face still buried in his pillow. You were still tryna process what the hell just happened.

Your legs twitched. Still trembling. Your whole pussy was throbbing, empty and wet and so overstimmed you could barely think.

And then —

You felt him.

That soft wipe of a warm towel between your thighs. A gentle little 'shh' when you flinched. Big hands bracing your thighs open like he was apologizing for fucking you so deep.

“Still sore?” he asked, real low. Like he was asking if you needed a minute, or a whole second round.

You hummed something that didn’t sound like English.

“Damn,” he chuckled under his breath. And you could hear the smug in it. But also — something softer.

The towel moved slow. Careful. Wiping you clean like you were something delicate. Like he gave a fuck if he hurt you.

And it hit you.

You never had this before.

Never had a man fuck you dumb and still hold you like he ain’t wanna let go. Never had someone take their time cleaning you up when the high wore off. Never had anybody kiss on your shoulder like you meant something right after they blew your back out.

It felt...nice. Too nice.

You sniffed. Stretched out lazy and boneless when he tossed the towel to the floor and leaned back over you.

“Don’t move,” he said, low. “You good?”

You nodded, still kinda floatin’. “Yeah…m’good…”

He kissed the top of your spine. Then your shoulder. Then your cheek.

One long kiss right between your brows.

You blinked up at him — soft, dazed. He looked…different now.

Still fine as hell. Still tatted and thick and built like a damn linebacker. But — softer.

His eyes weren’t hard like when you first met. His touch wasn’t cold. He looked at you like he saw something in you he wasn’t expecting.

Then he stood up — Still naked, dick still heavy and swinging, and lorddd you were tempted to climb back on that man —

But he just ran a hand over his face, muttered, “Be right back,” and went to grab something.

Came back in a pair of gray sweatshorts — that damn print was PRINTING — and tossed you the same kind but shorts...

“I ain’t got nothing cute, but you can wear these,” he said, dropping a folded-up black tee on the bed next to you. “I’ll get you some socks too if you want.”

And — like — You didn’t know whether to scream or suck his dick.

Cuz why the fuck did that feel so intimate? Why he look so good in the warm light? Why he still got lip gloss on his neck from earlier??

You put on the shorts. They were big, of course. Sat low on your hips. The shirt too. Soft and clean and smelled like laundry and cologne.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Hair a mess. Lips swollen. Whole thighs out. And his shirt hangin’ off your shoulder like a confession.

Yeah. You looked fucked. And claimed.

You padded downstairs barefoot, the floor warm under your toes. His place was quiet. Clean. Minimalist but cozy.

Not the kind of space you expected from a man like him.

And he was already in the kitchen.

You leaned on the doorway, watching. Quiet. Just soaking it in.

He moved like he knew what he was doing—pulling shit from the fridge, turning the stove on, opening cabinets like he’d done this before.

“Not breakfast?” you teased, voice still a little hoarse.

He turned, a lazy smirk on his face. “Nah. You gon’ need real food after that.”

WHYYY he say it like thattttt. You bit your lip. Felt another throb.

He pulled out a container of pasta, some veggies, chopped chicken—like he was ready. He even poured you a glass of water. Sat it next to the barstool and gave you that look.

“Drink this before I bend you over that counter.”

Your legs damn near gave out again. “Yessir.”

He laughed. Walked up behind you while the pan heated. Kissed your temple. Then your jaw.

Then your neck, where he knew he left a mark.

You leaned back into him with a soft little sigh, the weight of his body behind yours like a safehouse.

He liked kissing, you could tell. The kind that didn’t rush. That meant something. Even if y’all hadn’t put a name to this thing yet.

You didn’t know his real name. Didn’t even know what he did for work. Didn’t know what any of this meant.

But right now, you were standing in a warm kitchen, wrapped in his shirt, belly rumbling, lips tingling, neck still sore from the way he kissed you while he stroked through you like he studied your body.

And he was cooking for you. Not because he had to. But because he wanted to.

This man — this quiet, deep-voiced demon of a man — was smiling a little while he stirred sauce in the pan like you didn’t just have your soul knocked into another timeline.

“Damn,” you mumbled. “What?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

You looked him up and down. The shorts. The arms. The softness. The fact that he touched you like you were fragile after doing unspeakable things to your guts.

You sighed. “Nothing. You just…fine as fuck. That’s all.” you breathed out.

He chuckled. Walked over. Took your chin in his hand and kissed you slow, deep, with a hum that had your toes curling again.

Then he said — “Wait ‘til you taste how I cook.” Smirked. Turned back to the stove.

You sat down with your knees pressed together, whole body humming, thighs clenched.

You ain’t expect to get emotional behind some damn food, but here you were.

Sittin’ in this man’s dimly lit kitchen, in his oversized shirt, drinkin’ cold water while your insides still shivered from how he handled you in the bedroom — And the smell hittin’ your nose like somebody’s Southern auntie been hoverin’ over that stove for hours.

Garlic. Butter. Onion. A lil heat in the back of your throat. He threw something in that pan that was doing spiritual things to your spirit. Like it was hugging the parts of you that ain’t been held in a while.

You blinked. Fidgeted. Chewed on your thumbnail like you ain’t want your lip to quiver.

“You good?” he asked, lookin’ at you sideways while he stirred up some pasta in a cast iron skillet.

You nodded. Too quick. Voice a lil too light.

“Mhm…I’m fine…”

Lie. You was not fine.

You was bout two seconds away from cryin’ over sautéed chicken and perfectly seasoned noodles. What the fuck.

“I put a lil cayenne in there,” he said casually. “Not too much though. Just a kick.”

You swallowed hard.

“Yeah, okay, Chef Boyar-dick,” you whispered under your breath.

He heard you. Grinned. Didn’t say nothin’ — just looked at you with that smug ass I know what I did to you smirk.

Then he plated your food.

Real neat. Pasta twisted all pretty. Chicken stacked just right. Grated cheese on top. Sprinkled parsley like it was chopped with intention. He even wiped the side of the plate off with a damn paper towel like he was competing on MasterChef.

OH YOU WANTED TO SOB.

He slid it over to you with a fork and another glass of water. Didn’t even fix his own plate first.

“Eat, baby.”

Lorddd.

Your stomach fluttered. Your coochie fluttered. Your heart fluttered.

You scooped up a bite, let the noodles wrap around the fork, and took it to your mouth.

BAYBEEE.

Flavor exploded like a damn prayer on your tongue. Savory. Warm. Just the right amount of heat. Like the food was made by hands that knew what the fuck pain felt like.

You stared at the plate. Stared at the man.

He watched you. Quiet. Patient. Like he wanted to see your reaction.

You chewed slow, then swallowed. Put your fork down.

And then…

“Why you doin’ this?” you whispered. Voice low.

Barely above the hum of the stove fan.

His brow furrowed. “Huh?”

You licked your lips. Blinkin’ fast. Eyes glossed over.

“Why you bein’ all…sweet like this? Like — you dicked me down, cleaned me up, made me a plate — now you feedin’ me like I’m some kinda…favorite.”

He didn’t answer right away. Didn’t try to joke it off.

He walked back over, real slow. Took your chin in his hand again — soft. Held your eyes in his.

“Because I wanted to.”

Simple. Honest. Soft.

You stared at him.

“You makin’ it real hard not to fall for you tonight,” you whispered.

His thumb brushed your cheek. Then your lip. His eyes dropped to your mouth like he was ready to kiss you all over again.

He didn’t say nothin’. Just leaned in, real gentle, and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Then your nose. Then your lips.

And when he pulled back, he smirked.

“Who said not to?”

SCREEEEEEEEEAMMMMMMMM.

taglist - @sertonins - @crimsonxm00n - @klssngss - @juicypinksblog @mingisg00dgirl - @stilestotherescue - @imperfectlyperfect78 @hoouno06 - @kirayuki22 - @christinabae - (lemme know if I forgot any of you)

[matchingbatbites]

Explicit | 2k words | First time blowjob + Getting together

Found this in my drafts and finished it off. I know this is inspired by a post but I cannot find it.

"Can I blow you?"

Eddie freezes where he's unpacking his bag at the Harrington dining table, the first to arrive for tonight's D&D session. He blinks before turning to look at Steve, who is leaning casually in the doorway like he hadn't just offered Eddie the chance to live out one of his frequent fantasies.

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that? I think my ears stopped working for a second there."

Steve rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, his hip popping out in that bitchy way that makes Eddie want to bite him. "Can I blow you?" he asks again, this time with more emphasis, and yeah, Eddie heard him right the first time.

Eddie says "What's with the sudden interest, Stevie?" which he thinks is a valid question, considering the fact that Steve has never shown any inclination towards any dick, let alone Eddie's. He'd gotten confirmation of such when he came out to Steve a couple months ago and received a prompt "Oh cool. You can talk to me about boys if you want, but I don't know how much help I'll be."

The Steve in front of him exhales sharply, clearly holding back a bitchier response as he replies "Do you want a blowjob or not, man?"

It only takes Eddie half a second to answer yes, because even if this is some fever dream, there's no way he's going to turn down the man he's been crushing on. All the more reason to agree, honestly.

"Here?" Eddie asks, and Steve shakes his head.

"Upstairs, in case one of the kids shows up early."

Right, of course.

Eddie follows Steve up to his room, where the other boy shuts and locks the door behind them before he's pushing Eddie up against the solid surface.

There's no build up, no easing into it; no needy kisses or teasing touches like Eddie would expect from Steve Harrington. Steve just drops to his knees and starts on Eddie's belt, and all Eddie can do is watch as the hottest guy he knows pulls down his pants and boxers just enough to expose him.

Steve's eyebrows shoot up and his face flushes pink as he takes in Eddie's dick for the first time. Eddie's too distracted by how pretty Steve is to ask if he likes what he sees, and Steve doesn't say anything as he wraps his hand around the shaft, seeming to get a feel for it. Eddie is only about half-chubbed, but begins to rapidly approach rock hard as Steve swipes his thumb over the piercing that sits below the head.

"Did that hurt?" Steve asks, voice thick with something, and Eddie shrugs.

"Yeah. Made jacking off pretty tough for a while."

Steve hums in response and finally gives it a proper stroke, and Eddie groans low, even though it's a bit drier than he'd like. The other boy must realize the same thing, because he pulls his hand back and - fuck - spits in it before he's grabbing Eddie's dick and trying again.

It's much better, and Eddie hums encouragingly as Steve jerks him off, his eyes focused on the head that's getting redder and redder as Eddie's dick hardens. Eddie bites his lip as he watches Steve focus on his task, as he speeds up and slows down, trying a few things out.

Eventually Steve leans in and licks over the tip, pulling another groan from Eddie, and it's like Steve suddenly remembers that the dick in his hand is actually attached to a person. He looks up at Eddie, his gaze swirling with wonder and desire as he takes the head into his mouth and sucks.

"Fuuuuck, Stevie," Eddie groans, unable to keep his mouth shut at the sight before him. "Look like a fuckin' dream on your knees for me, baby."

Steve shudders at the praise and pulls back to mouth at the piercing, and Eddie desperately needs to know if Steve has done this before, because if not then he's a fucking natural. He clocks every one of Eddie's reactions and abuses the knowledge, tongue flicking the piercing or lips suckling on the tip. It's not long before he takes more into his mouth, sinking down onto Eddie's cock as far as he can before pulling back with a wet noise.

He quickly finds his rhythm, bobbing on Eddie's dick like he's done it a hundred times, and Eddie gives up on trying to be cool about this whole thing. He pushes his hands into Steve's hair and pulls him closer, forcing more of his dick into Steve's mouth.

"Tap my leg if you need to stop," Eddie says as he gives a shallow thrust into that wet heat. Steve just moans, eyes fluttering as he lets Eddie guide him, his hands grabbing Eddie's jeans and holding on as Eddie fucks into his mouth.

Eddie tries to be careful; he doesn't want to hurt Steve, but the boy is just so beautiful with tears welling up in his eyes and a pink blush staining his skin. He snaps his hips, pushing the head of his dick into Steve's throat just enough to hear him choke, and Steve winces at the intrusion but doesn't tap out.

Eddie croons a soft "That's it, baby. Such a good boy, taking my dick so well," and Steve's reaction is even stronger than before, the way he melts into the encouragement even more obvious. It makes Eddie want to shower Steve in praise, to smother him with it, so he never doubts how perfect he is.

"Look at me, Stevie," he commands, and when Steve's eyes lift to meet Eddie's - glossy with unshed tears and a bit unfocused - it's enough to push Eddie right to the edge.

"Fuck, I'm-"

Eddie yanks Steve off and strips his dick in quick strokes until he's coming, shooting his spend over Steve's beautiful, dazed face. He takes just a second to catch his breath before he drops to the floor and kisses Steve hard, smearing his cum between their lips. Steve whines into it as he kisses back, and Eddie blindly reaches down, searching for the hard line of Steve's dick in his pants.

Instead, his hand meets a damp spot, and Eddie breaks the kiss so he can look down to confirm his suspicion.

"Holy shit, Steve. Did you come in your pants just from sucking me off?"

"I'm, uh- just as surprised as you are," Steve says, his voice a little scratchier than it was before. "I wasn't expecting to enjoy that as much as I did."

Fuck. Eddie forgot about this part. The part where Steve admits that he just wanted to see what it was like and figured Eddie was the perfect candidate for his little experiment. Eddie doesn't mind, really, not when this whole scenario has been kind of a dream come true, but that doesn't mean it's going to hurt any less.

They're interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching, followed by a rapid knocking on the door. "Steve! You in here? Eddie's stuff is here but we can't find him!"

Fucking Dustin.

"Yeah, me and Steve are here!" Eddie replies. "We're talking about something, I'll be down in a sec!"

Dustin gives a "Hurry up, man!" through the door, and Eddie shakes his head as he listens to him walk away. He stands and helps Steve move from the floor to the nearby desk chair.

"I'll, uh. Go grab you a towel," he says, and Steve nods.

Eddie quickly fixes his pants before heading to the bathroom across the hall. He splashes some water on his face to help get rid of the flush, then wets a washcloth while keeping an ear out for any wandering children. The coast seems to keep clear as he goes back, and a shiver runs down his spine at the sight of Steve, who had slipped off his bottoms while Eddie was gone.

Fuck, Eddie would love to get his mouth on that cock.

He passes Steve the cloth and just stands there as he wipes off his face, then his dick, unable to look away.

"So, uh. Where did that come from?" Eddie can't help but ask, his curiosity winning out over his self-preservation. Steve looks up at him and blushes, even the tips of his ears going pink.

"Um. Dustin was ranting to me last week, talking about how you're always so strict with everyone during your games, and he thought— Well, he thought if you got laid you might go easier on them."

Eddie blinks, absorbing the information for a moment. "Did he… ask you? To do this?"

Steve shakes his head and moves to the dresser to grab a clean pair of sweatpants.

"No, that was— that was all me. It just popped into my head, like Hey, I could do that, and it just wouldn't go away. I thought I could at least ask, and if you said no, then it wouldn't be a big deal."

So, it's exactly what Eddie thought. "Right. Yeah. You were just— trying it out with someone you know, got it." Eddie turns and pushes his hands into his hair, tugging on it a bit. Stupid pretty boys and their stupid eyes, making Eddie feel things when all he is is a placeholder, an experiment.

Steve makes a soft noise and grabs Eddie by the arm. Eddie relents as Steve turns him back around so he can look at him. "Eddie, that wasn't— Yeah, okay. I didn't really like, think about it before Dustin brought it up. But I know I like being around you, and I know I liked that, so maybe— If you like me, maybe you'd be willing to give me a shot?"

He looks so earnest, so hopeful, those hazel eyes wide and wanting. There's no world in which Eddie would even want to turn him down. Instead he takes Steve's hand and rubs his thumb over Steve's knuckles. "If I liked that, he says. Like it wasn't a fucking dream come true."

Steve breaks into a beaming smile and steps closer. "Oh yeah? Dream about that often?" he asks, and Eddie rolls his eyes a little even as he sways into Steve's space.

Cocky motherfucker.

"Do I dream about the hottest guy I've ever seen giving me a blowjob like he was made for it? Yeah, might have happened once or twice, baby."

Steve huffs and closes the gap between them, pressing their lips together in a chaste, achingly sweet kiss. Eddie hums into it and moves his free hand to Steve's hip, his fingers just slipping under the hem of his shirt. S

Before they can do anything more, a banging comes from the door behind them, along with an annoyed "Can you two hurry up?! We need to get started if we want to finish on time!"

Eddie makes a mental note to kill Dustin's character tonight as he turns, still holding on to Steve. "Have some fucking patience, Henderson! Go back downstairs before I make you roll with disadvantage all night!"

Dustin squawks a "What?! That's not fair!" and Eddie just rolls his eyes while Steve presses his face to Eddie's shoulder, muffling his laughter.

"Now, Dustin!"

Dustin grumbles but stomps off, and Eddie wraps his arms around Steve's waist. "Something funny, Stevie?"

Steve shakes his head. "I just think it's funny that this whole thing happened because Dustin thought you were being too hard on them, but it's looking like you'll be even worse now."

"Oh yeah," Eddie says with a grin. He gives Steve another quick kiss and says "I'm gonna be a monster now, because instead of being up here kissing you, I have to go listen to them argue for hours."

"You love them," Steve counters, and yeah, Eddie does. "You better go before they decide to break the door down."

Eddie nods and reluctantly pulls away. "We, uh. We can talk more about this later, but for now— Boyfriends? Maybe?"

Steve beams and nods. "Yeah. Boyfriends. Now go have fun."

Edit: Inspiration post found!

[incvbvsribbons]

Making plans to go out to the mall with you, letting you know that I’ll be at your place in ten minutes to pick you up. When I get there and knock on the door, however, you greet me in a crop top with your tits peeking out from underneath and a short skirt. You dismiss my surprise, telling me that it’s summer time and it’s just soooo hot outside, you don’t have anything better to wear to beat the heat. As you walk past me to my car though, you do catch a glimpse of the bulge in my pants, knowing my thoughts were immediately of dragging you into your house and tearing those slutty clothes off of you.

The drive to the mall was eventful as well, as I nearly rear ended a car multiple times because I kept glancing over at you bouncing in the passenger seat, singing along to the radio and squeezing your tits together with your elbows, acting completely innocent in your teasing of me.

When we get into the mall you basically spend the whole time draped over my arm, wrapping your arms around mine and pressing my hand in your cleavage, pretending like everything is completely normal as I start to lose my mind. We pass by a Victoria’s Secret and you grab my arm, dragging me over to the displays, talking about how you “have something like this, but wayy more revealing” before looking back up at me and watching my face turning red from imagining it.

We walk down a hallway of the mall, empty rooms dotting either wall, shops that moved out or have yet to even open up, so it’s all eerily quiet. Suddenly, you feel my hand slide across your back, gripping you tightly as I pull you into the bathroom at the end of the hall, shoving you into the stall and locking the door behind me. Before you have a chance to ask what the fuck I’m doing, my hand slips under your skirt and slides across your cunt. “You weren’t going to tell me that you didn’t wear panties, slut?” I ask, staring you straight into the eyes. You stare up at me, your face becoming flush as you sit back onto the toilet lid, your thighs pressing together, already slick from me sliding my fingers across your hole. “I-I must’ve forgotten them, you rush me-“ you begin to say, excusing yourself of blame, when I grab your top and pull it up, letting your tits fall out. “And no bra either, you must’ve been looking for a reason for this to happen to you, right?” I ask, grabbing the buckle of my belt and undoing it, letting it slide out of my belt loops. I grab your wrists and tighten it around them, leaving you unable to use your hands as I grab my pants, my hard cock throbbing in front of your face. “You’ve been teasing me all damn day, you little brat… now you need to face the consequences of doing that.” I say, grabbing a fistful of your hair and shoving your mouth onto my cock. You choke and drool over it, feeling it hit the back of your throat as I move your head back and forth, fucking that dolled up little face of yours for teasing me for so long. You move your hands to your needy cunt, fingering yourself as I use your mouth, sending reverberations down my shaft with every moan as your drool drips down onto your tits. You play with your nipples, trying hard to not pass out from how rough I’m being, looking up at me with tears in your eyes, stinging from your makeup smearing down your face. “You’ve got such a perfect little throat to fuck, baby, I should’ve just done this sooner, it would’ve saved us a lot of trouble, and I could’ve actually gotten some shopping done.” I moan, lamenting the clothes I passed up because you were too busy doing all but grinding on my leg like the needy whore you are.

I pull my cock out of your throat and smack it against your face, watching you pant, spit bubbles slipping down the corners of your lips as your fingers make a mess out of your pussy. I pick you up and turn you around, flipping the skirt up and seeing the buttplug you put in for me, before sliding my cock along the folds of your pussy, then shoving it all the way in as I rail you mercilessly, gripping your hips hard enough to hurt so so good. You bite your lip, stifling moans and screams as I rail you, realizing that this was all your fault, that I’m going to fill your empty little cunt with as many loads of cum as I can, before making you finish shopping with me as my love drips down your thighs.

If you make a mess on my car seats on the way home, you know you’re going to get punished again.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

don't tell him. l Joel Miller

Summary: you tried to hide an unpleasant situation from Joel

Warnings: angst, attempted sexual assault, aggressive behavior, Reader feels guilty, violence, swearing; Ellie, Tommy, Ann, and Elliot appear

A/N: .

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

Your footsteps echoed quietly in the hallway of the building that served Jackson as a sort of town hall. You knew you would find Tommy there and you were right. When you pushed open the door, he looked up from the map and was surprised. He wasn't expecting a guest and your appearance gave him the impression that something was wrong.

"What’s up?" he asked, "Patrol went wrong?"

You adjusted the strap of your rifle that was still hanging over your shoulder and bit your lip, feeling your heart still pounding. Eventually, though, you nodded. “I don’t want to go on patrol with Elliot anymore. I’m sorry, Tommy, but I refuse.”

He frowned and looked at you carefully, getting up from his chair. "What happened? This was your third patrol together. Did he do something irresponsible?"

He noticed you looking away, but after a moment your eyes landed on him again. “Yes, he did.”

The third patrol with Elliot was no different. All patrolling personnel had to be able to cooperate with each other, so partners were swapped from time to time. Shane took on another partner for a while, and you agreed to take Elliot. It was fine. Until that day.

You should have set the boundary from the start, but this time your faith in people failed you. Comments that seemed strange to you and made you feel uncomfortable kept falling from Elliot's lips.

"They're just compliments, honey." he said when you gave him a warning look. "Anger hurts beauty."

Neither Joel nor Shane had ever spoken to you that way. But patrol was the most important thing and that was what you decided to focus on, so you ignored the red flags that were popping up in the back of your head. And he probably didn't like it.

“Listen,” he began as you put the thermos away after your meal and slowly prepared to return to Jackson. “I know you know I like you. I saw the way you looked my way.”

"What?" you looked at him surprised. "I didn't..."

"You did. At the bar or when we saw each other in town." he stepped closer.

"Listen, I think you misunderstood me." you replied trying to turn it all into a joke. "You know perfectly well that me and Joel..."

"Joel." Elliot snorted. "Please, will he protect you? Will he keep you safe?"

The words died in your throat as you noticed the change in the man's eyes. The gentle gaze darkened. Instinct told you that you should back off, not provoke him, because that was apparently how he perceived every reaction you made to his words.

"Let's go back to Jackson." you said trying to ignore Elliot's strange behavior. You threw your backpack over your shoulder when you felt him grab your arm tightly.

"I'm serious, honey." he hissed. He was standing close enough to make you feel threatened. "You're pretty and smart, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Here-" he looked around the forest surrounding you "Here everything will stay between us and..."

"Let me go." you interrupted him sharply. "You have no right to talk to me like that! I don't know what you've got in your head, but it's fucking sick!"

"You keep tempting and provoking me, don't tell me that..."

You yanked your arm away and stepped back abruptly. Elliot had barely taken a step when you pulled a gun from your belt and aimed it at him. "Give me a reason." you said.

You were terrified, but you didn't want him to see it. Eventually, he just shrugged, muttered, "Bitch!", and picked up his backpack, then started walking without even looking back. It was only then that you realized you were holding your breath.

Tommy looked at you with a mixture of disbelief and anger, but he didn’t doubt any of your words. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered when you told him everything. “I wanted Shane to go with him, but Elliot asked you to. He said you liked each other and he’s already talked to you about it.”

"He said that? Jesus."

Tommy walked around the desk and approached you. Concern was written all over his face. "I'm sorry, he'll never go on patrol with you again. I'll talk to him. Fuck! When Joel finds out..."

Your eyes widened in an instant. That was why you came straight to Tommy.

"You can't say anything to Joel." you said, and seeing Tommy's surprised look, you added "You know what he can do. Joel... That guy you caught when Sam and Anthony died... I don't want him to do something like that again because of me." 

You didn't know what Joel did back then, but you weren't stupid and you weren't fooling yourself. That man disappeared without a trace. You didn't feel any regret about it. Were you a bad person? Probably, but you didn't want Joel to get furious and do something stupid.

Tommy leaned in slightly toward you. "He's my brother. I should keep you safe."

"Nothing happened. Just make sure I don't have to see Elliot on patrol anymore."

Tommy shook his head, but eventually sighed in resignation. "Fine. I won't tell him. What about you? How are you feeling?"

"Better now."

You had your reasons for keeping Joel out of what happened. It was between you, Elliot, and Tommy, and you just tried to forget about it. Things were really good between you and Joel, and you didn't want something unpleasant to happen to change that, and Elliot definitely could.

For a few days you wondered if maybe you had actually done or said something that would make him feel like you were interested in him, but you had found nothing. Nothing beyond the normal greetings or exchanges of words that you had with other residents of Jackson. But the guilt quietly churned in the back of your mind.

Tommy, as he promised, moved Elliot to other duties and soon you went back to patrolling with Shane, which you welcomed with great relief. You were ready to forget about everything.

For the past few weeks, Joel had seemed worried about something, but every time you asked him about it, he would say, “It’s nothing, honey. Just… thinking.” And then he would kiss your forehead or temple and pretend nothing was wrong. You asked Ellie and Tommy about it too, but they would just shrug—for them, everything was normal.

"Maybe he's getting more grumpy with age?" Ellie once said, so you dropped the subject before she could say anything more. Things were good between you, so you didn't want to look for problems.

However, when Ann showed up at your door that evening, you knew something was wrong. She had a flushed face and seemed very concerned about something.

"Something with Elijah or Shane?" you asked, getting up from the couch and putting the book aside.

"Why didn't you tell me?" her voice was shaking. "We're friends after all."

"Ann, I don't understand." you replied, walking up to her "What happened? Where's the baby?"

"With Shane." she threw out casually, but her hand quickly grabbed your arm. "Shane told me. About Elliot and what happened. Why didn't you tell me?"

Shit. In an instant, you felt like the ground had dropped from under your feet. Tommy had promised you. Did he really...

But Ann must have noticed your surprise and calmed down a bit, or at least enough to speak a little quieter. “Shane was at the Tipsy Bison today. Elliot and a few other guys were there too. He…” she took a deep breath. “He said some really nasty things about you. Shane wanted to react, just tell him to shut up, but then he heard him talking about your last patrol…”

"What did he say?" the words just poured out of your mouth.

“Nothing specific.” Ann frowned, trying to remember her husband’s exact words. “Something about how you’d been seducing him for so long that he’d suggested a quickie but you got scared. That you and Joel were bullshit and you’d come to him soon.”

"Asshole!" you groaned, feeling tears welling up in your eyes, and the lump in your throat hurt more and more.

“I know!” Ann groaned, folding her arms across her chest. “Shane didn’t believe it either, he thought Elliot was just talking nonsense. But then… He remembered Tommy telling him that you asked him to so you wouldn’t have to go on patrol with Elliot, and he got a little scared. Honey, what happened?”

How were you supposed to tell her? You didn't want to go back to it, you wanted to forget, but at that moment you felt like you were really to blame for everything. Ann was looking at you, waiting for some kind of answer, so you gave it to her.

But as the words left your mouth, and her face grew even more terrified, you told her the same thing you had told Tommy. "I beg you, don't say anything Joel. He can't..."

Ann's eyes widened and her face tensed as she looked over your shoulder. You had no chance of hearing Joel's footsteps. You were so focused on your friend that you didn't hear him come in through the back door. He must have heard it all because when you looked at him, you were terrified. Eyes darkened, his jaw tensed. He looked at you in a way that made you feel like your legs were about to give out.

“Joel…” he moved, but it looked more like a wild animal preparing to attack. This wasn’t your Joel. “Joel…” you repeated, trying to touch him, but your fingers only grazed his shirt as he quickly walked past you, running out of the house and slamming the door.

Tipsy Bison was filled with people. Conversation and music filled the air, and almost no one noticed when Joel entered. He wasn't thinking. Emotions had completely taken over his body and he wasn't going to fight it.

When he got home he wanted to speak, but he heard Ann's worried voice so he just went to the door. What he heard completely shocked him.

Elliot. The same guy he had talked to a few times, the one he had seen in Jackson. The same one who seemed to be just polite to you. Joel didn't see him as a threat. Were his instincts starting to fail?

Joel's brain was producing visions of what could have happened, and it only made him more furious.

He swept his gaze around the inside of Tipsy Bison and soon spotted his target. Elliot was sitting at one of the tables with a few other men. The man didn't notice him, and when Joel reached him, he had no chance.

A strong hand gripped his shirt and pulled Elliot, forcing him to stand up. "What the hell?" escaped him, but he didn't even hear the answer as something hit him hard in the face.

The force of the blow was so strong that he tripped over a chair and fell to the floor with it. His companions stood up, surprised by what had happened, but Joel was already leaning over him. More blows fell, splitting Elliot's eyebrow and breaking his nose. Blood began to pour from his mouth. He had no chance to defend himself when Joel attacked with such force and fury.

"Enough! Enough!" a scream rang out.

Three pairs of male hands grabbed Joel, with difficulty tearing him away from the man lying and whimpering on the floor. Tommy looked at the bloodied Elliot in horror, and then at his brother. "We're leaving. Now!"

Joel didn't even protest. Adrenaline was pumping in his ears, his heart was pounding in his chest. He knew that if it weren't for Tommy and the others, he probably would have beaten that guy to death. He could do it. He wanted to do it.

The cold air swept over his face as they exited the building. "What was that?!" Tommy growled. "What are you-"

"I know what he did to her." Joel interrupted, noticing his brother's hesitation. "You know what I'm talking about, right?"

Not without hesitation, Tommy nodded. "I know. She told me. That same day."

Joel's blood began to flow faster again. "Why didn't she tell me? She should have!" he growled.

"That's exactly why!" his brother gestured to the Tipsy Bison door, where people were probably trying to help Elliot. "She wanted to avoid this! She was thinking about you!"

Tommy knew that Joel's head must be a real mess right now. He didn't hide the fact that he supported what he had done, Elliot should be happy that they managed to get Joel off of him so quickly. But Tommy felt sorry for him too, and for you. He loved you both, and his heart broke when he saw how this world treated you.

"How did you find out?" he asked, a little calmer now.

Joel sighed. "By accident. I heard her talking to Ann."

"You talked to her?" Joel shook his head. "Then do it. Damn it, she loves you and I know you love her too. She was the victim, don't forget that. She didn't tell you about Elliot to protect you. Even then, she only thought about you."

Joel didn't answer. Something tightened painfully in his throat, and his right hand was starting to hurt. Tommy didn't stop him as his brother started walking towards the house.

When the door opened again, you instinctively stood up. You didn't know what to expect. Joel left in such a state that you were afraid of every possibility. Ann wanted to stay, but you convinced her that it was pointless, she couldn't help you, she couldn't do anything.

"Come here." he said quietly, and when you came closer he just spread his arms.

You snuggled into his chest, hugging him tightly. Tears were pressing to your eyes, but when Joel hugged you, you felt safe. The steady beating of his heart was soothing, his warmth enveloping you. "You should have told me, baby." Joel didn't sound angry, rather sad and worried. "I should have known."

"I didn't want to worry you. I thought if I solved it myself, I'd forget about it..."

“And that didn’t happen?” He held you tighter. You sank deeper into him. You’d never needed anyone as much as you needed Joel. The silence was enough. His chest heaved with a deep breath. “It wasn’t your fault, baby. That asshole got lucky anyway, because if it wasn’t for Tommy…” he sighed. “Elliot will never look at you again. I promise you.”

And you knew that Joel Miller always kept his word.

She quietly closed the door and took off her shoes so as not to make any noise. But after a few steps that Ellie considered unusually quiet, she heard a familiar voice coming from the kitchen. “Good thing you know where you live, huh?”

The girl sighed and followed Joel's voice. The kitchen was barely lit, and he was finishing a glass of water he'd come down from his bedroom to get. It was almost midnight. Joel had never told her to be back at a specific time, only to make it a reasonable hour.

Ellie leaned against the doorframe and shoved her hands into her pants pockets.

"What?" he mumbled, looking at her sly smile.

"Nothing." She shrugged. "I heard what you did. Good job, dude."

Joel rolled his eyes. Ellie snorted.

"He deserved it. And it was your duty, after all." Joel frowned. "You're her man, right? You're supposed to defend her honor or something."

He nodded. "Sometimes I wonder how to protect you both, you know. This world is so fucking messed up."

“What if things were like they used to be?” Joel looked at Ellie in surprise, but she just smiled. “If things were like they used to be. Without the infected and the Riders and all that crap? Do you think you and her would meet? Or the two of us? I don’t think so.” Ellie yawned and stretched. “I’m going to bed. Good night!”

"Good night, kid." Joel mumbled.

He stood in the kitchen for a moment longer, listening to her slow footsteps as she climbed the stairs, then the slam of the door. In the room across from Ellie’s, you were sleeping peacefully in your shared bed.

For a moment, he felt like he was truly home. And even though deep in his heart he still mourned the life he had, this new life was with him and he wanted to be a part of it. Joel felt better as he lay down next to you, put his arm around you, and snuggled against your back, kissing your shoulder.

"Ellie's back?" your voice was quiet and sleepy.

"Safe and sound, baby." Just like you.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again @callmebyyournick-name @hiroikegawa @

[owenstar]

𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 - 𝐦.𝐬 ☆

𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴: 𝘚𝘔𝘜𝘛 ( 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘬 ) 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵, 𝘴𝘶𝘣!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴

𝘱𝘳é𝘤𝘪𝘴: 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬, 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦.

𝘢/𝘯: 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘴 😵‍💫😵‍💫

“sleep tight, baby, mommy loves you,” you whisper in both of your son's ears as they drift off. quietly exiting their bedroom and walking downstairs into your lightly dimmed kitchen.

candles scattered around illuminating the dark corners of the house. quietly tinkling from the utensils tapping the metal pans as you make dinner. you hummed softly as your hips moved while you tossed salad in a bowl.

“im home, honey!” your husband matt opens the front door. his dirty boots are kicked off at the door as he hands his coat on the rack.

“shhhh,” you whisper. greeting your husband with a sweet kiss and a hug. “the twins are asleep.”

matt’s calloused hands at your sides, feeling the soft silk of your short dress that sat right under your bottom. “mm, sorry, missed you so much.” matt’s hand gripped your side.

“you smell so good.” his nose deep in your neck. “you smell like vanilla.” he deeply inhaled as his fingers rubbed your sides.

“it’s my lotion, honey.” you smile, giggling at your husband's sweet words. “not just you, baby, the house smells so nice.”

‘mhm. “i deep cleaned today.” you kiss his forehead as you take his hand and bring him towards the kitchen.

“come eat dinner, honey. you’ve had a long day." you stir the soup on the stove that was kept warm for matt.

“mhm, im so lucky. beautiful wife. house is clean and smells so good. dinner’s ready and kids are asleep.” “what did i do to deserve you?” matt hums in a low voice, his hands back on your hips, his crotch against your ass.

“honey, im cooking.” you smile at the feeling of his large hands on your body again.

“i’ve had such a long day. i need my girl.” “such a tease, too. in this dress.”

“matt, behave.” you giggle, turning off the stove. facing to turn towards him. immediately his hands running down to your ass.

“i can’t. i need my beautiful girl.” “you take care of us so well.” “you deserve a reward, huh?”

“yeah? could you?” your tone alluring. your hands up his neck, watching how his blue eyes filled with arousal.

“tell me what you want, beautiful.” matt lifted your chin with his hand. your eyes meet his.

“you had a hard day yeah? release all that stress out on me.” you lick your lips, matt’s grip tighter.

“fuck.” matt breathed, immediately his hands under your dress. gripping onto your bare flesh. “no panties under this dress baby? so naughty.”

you groan at his hard hands on your soft flesh, “easier for you.”

“you got that right.” matt grabbing you by your ass, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.

giggles from your lips fall as your hungry husband stares at your nipples through the silk. “needed this so bad, honey.” his hands pulled off the silk, your lovely body on full display. your pussy dripped.

“you want me from behind, baby?” you whisper, undoing his belt. the leather falling to the ground. matt pulling off his shirt, his jeans and boxers as with it.

“no, mama, lie down. i want you just like this.” “i wanna watch your mouth open when i slip my cock inside you.”

subconsciously, your hand fell to your dripping heat. feeling how swollen your clit feels. you needed matt’s attention. one of the reasons why you wore this dress. you knew how it trigger him the right way.

“nuh uh, lay down. i got you, princess.” matt’s body hovered over you. his hand supported him up while the other pulled your bottom hip down. his chapped lips kissed your soft ones. whines from your mouth as your hand slipped down to your cunt again. your pussy leaked your own saliva.

matt’s lips trailed down to your neck, his hands moving your jaw to the side. dark marks and saliva.

“god matt.” you moan, your body heat and his wet lips overstimulated you. your nipples were hard as your fingers continued to rub yourself.

“you ready for me pretty girl?” matt’s lips near your ear. “fuck please!” “attagirl.”

matt’s lip gave you a kiss one more time. his hands aligning himself with your pussy. slowly pushing himself inside.

the delicious stretch opened your mouth, your back arching as your head leaned back. matt pushed himself in completely. his hands on your hips, his mouth practically watering.

“fuck matt!” “god! s-so big!”

“w-wanna breed you baby girl.” matt’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, lazily thrusting into you. “wanna knock you up.”

your long acrylic nails scratching matt’s back. the overwhelming feeling of his large cock inside your body drove you over your edge. you missed his cock so bad.

over the stress of his busy job and you running around town for the twins' school and soccer practice, you never have any alone time with matt. casual reading on opposite sides of the sofa maybe but never some real alone time where your toes curl of the immense sensation of his cock hitting that sweet spot buried inside you.

“matt baby fuck!” your throat expelled lewd moans. skin slapping as your pussy squelched.

“k-knock me up matt!” “get me fucking pregnant!” you cry, your tits bounced as matt shoved himself at a quick pace.

“g-gonna cum inside you. no drop missing. gonna make you a mama again.” “make your tits spill milk.” matt groaned, the thought of matt fucking a baby inside you could make him cum on the spot. you carrying his babies. matt claiming you with his sperm. drives him fucking crazy.

lusty sounds surrounded the room. luckily, your twins were young and their bedroom was upstairs. your moans would be heard throughout the first floor. you couldn’t help it. matt’s thrusting soothed your back ache a bit while your spot was being obliterated. “you’re such a good mama baby.”

“so loud, let our neighbors hear how loud you are for me. making my girl a mama again.”

“matt f-fuck!” your stomach churned, your hand found your clit again, matt’s cock bottoming out. you felt your orgasm coming quickly. “g-gonna cum princess, c-can i cum inside you?” matt choked, his thrusts sloppy.

“m-mhm.” your breath hitched, your orgasm poured over you as matt’s load painted your gummy walls. ropes of white cum spewing inside you. matt loves breeding his beautiful wife. loves his mama.

your pussy clenched around him, your legs locking him in a hold. not letting him pull out, you wanted his baby inside you.

“baby fuck.” he groaned after his orgasm wafted away. his body dropping onto yours.

“you’re definitely pregnant again honey.” matt smiled happily.

"i couldn't be happier."

@chrepsi @chrispycremedonut @dykes4chris @mattsplaything @sturniolosluttt @livvyswrld @matts-girlfriend @courta13 @madisonswife @urfavvbilliemunch @mattybsgroupie @chris-hallelujah @sturns-mermaid @chrisbratt333 @ikeuppang

[sunflowerwinds]

wine & dine | s.a

summary: sevika has been working at your father’s auto-body shop for the past two years and has never given you the time of day. valentine’s rolls around and she finally lets out what she’s been holding in from the moment you two met.

pairing: sevika arcane x fem!reader

contains: modern!au, dad’s bestfriend! sevika (not really, more like coworker), age gap (reader is 22 and sevika is 39), alcohol consumption (they’re both slightly tipsy but both conscious enough for consent), sevika has no prosthetic, sevika is kind of a loser but we love it, smut: whiny!sevika, fingering (r!recieving), oral (r! receiving), r!squirting for the first time, aftercare!! (it’s important). (18+ —MINORS & MEN DO NOT TRY IT.), reader grows more confident with sevika!

word count: 6.3K

a/n: ENJOYYYY<3 a treat for you guys! happy (very late) valentine’s to my single angels bc yall deserve love too! art creds: @anodeorain!!! (SPECIAL THANKS TO @atomicami FOR READING THIS OVER TO MAKE SURE IT WAS GOOD ENOUGH TO POST. ily cami girl <3)

You were twenty when you were first introduced to Sevika.

Your father owned an auto body shop and she was a new hire. Most days, you would sit in his office when you were off your shift at your place of work – a local Tea House – and do your online classwork. None of the men ever dared to bother you considering how protective he was over you so you had headphones in your ears to block out any mechanical sounds and to give yourself some peace as you worked hard to get your assignments done, taking sips of your boba tea that you had taken with you.

The door opened as you were in the middle of sipping your drink as you were met with her. Your eyes bulged out of your head at the sight of a 6'1, olive skinned, deliciously ripped and slightly glistening woman stepping into the carpeted office. Her upper body was clung with an oil and sweat stained white wife pleaser and low-rise work jeans with a chunky black belt holding them up.

You suck in a quick breath to try and act like you were unfazed by it but had forgotten you had the thick straw from your tea in your mom. A few tapioca balls shot into the back of your throat causing you to choke and cough loudly. The woman’s grey eyes widened at the sound of your gargled noises as she rushed around the table to pat your upper back.

You tried to ignore how large her palm was on your body and attempted to take another sip of your drink, lifting the straw up a bit so that you wouldn’t get any more tapioca.

“You okay?” She asks you softly, the rumble in your deeper voice sending a chill down your spine.

Fuck, you had thought to yourself. Her voice just matches how fucking hot she is.

“Fine,” you were able to cough out, trying to suppress them. “Choked on my, uh, drink.”

The woman chuckled lowly at you, shaking her head before standing upright once again.

“I’ve never seen you before,” she stated as she folds her large toned forearms across her oil stained wife pleaser. “What’s your name?”

You uttered your name to her as you stared up at her, loving the angle you were getting from where you were sitting. The second your name left your lips, her eyes widened in a way that gave away she had heard about you from your father or the other employees. You quickly asked for hers out of courtesy to try and distract her from it but it was useless.

“Sevika. You mean you’re–”

“Yeah, big boss’s daughter,” you tilted your head up at her with a playful smile. “Did you need something?”

Sevika had blinked down at you before nodding hesitantly as she had forgotten the whole reason she had come into the office.

“I just needed to grab my water from the fridge,” she said with certainty as she made her way over to the large black coated refrigerator and tugged the door open.

When she had turned her back to you to bend over to search for her reusable steel water bottle, you silently thanked your dad for finally hiring probably one of the sexiest women you’ve ever laid your eyes on. You pretended to tend to your school work on your laptop as she stood back up, twisting open the lid and tilting it up to allow the water to flow down her throat.

You mindlessly typed as you watched and savored the sight of a few droplets leaving the sides of her mouth as she chugged the ice-cold water. Her shirt lifted ever so slightly to tease you with her v-line and faint happy trail. You felt like a man seeing ankles for the first time in the early 1900s.

After that day, you started showing up alot more to the shop. Your father questioned the schedule change but simply told him that you were able to ‘focus’ in his office.

This went on for two years. Two damn years of you coming to the shop to study and Sevika had only given you a few glances and gentle check ups on you when she went in the office. Normal and professional conversation and you were tired of it.

Tired of pretending like you weren’t desperate for her attention, for her. You tried to distract yourself from the yearning and had a few flings. They were… nice as that but in the back of your mind, she lingered. Maybe she wasn’t into younger women. You knew she had to be at least ten years older than you so that could be a factor in her not even giving you a second thought.

Or so you’d thought.

Valentine’s Day had rolled around and you had zero plans. Your best friend was out of town with their girlfriend so your plans were pretty much shot. You decided that you might as well get some work done at the shop like usual. At first you had lied about you focusing better on your father but now you actually can’t seem to mentally lock in on your school work anywhere else.

It was pretty empty as you passed through the garage. You could hear some gears turning and clanking so you peaked around to see who was there. Just your luck, it was Sevika.

Great. She made you feel more single than ever on this day.

You tried to speed past her in hopes she wouldn’t notice you but to your surprise, she called out your name. You stop in your tracks at her voice, sighing to yourself as you turn your head so that you are facing her.

Her brows were set in a furrow as she wiped off her rust ridden palms, looking you up and down with confusion.

“Just came to do school work, Sevika. Don’t mind me,” you raise your palm to wave her off. “You can go back to… whatever you’re doing.”

You guess your tone gave away your bad attitude as she sighs, throwing the towel over her bare shoulder and making her around the truck. You tense up as you adjust the strap to your book bag, now aware she could see all of you.

“What’s up, angel? Hmm?” Sevika leans back on the maroon, rusted door.

“Nothing.”

You ignore the heat that’s itching at your cheeks at her nickname for you. It was rare when she pulled that one out considering how little conversation the two of you shared.

“Nothing. Today is– it’s not my day,” you explain.

Her expression softens as she looks behind her at the calendar that was hanging amongst the tools on that wall. It’s Valentine’s Day, Sevika thought to herself.

“Why isn’t your day?” She wonders aloud.

You sigh as you shake your head, wanting to crawl into yourself to avoid this conversation.

“I don’t know. Just even more of a reminder I don’t have… what other people have.”

And that I could be spending this day with you but the universe decided to birth me out fifteen years too late, you think to yourself.

Sevika is silent after those words leave your mouth, shame flooding your veins. You scoff as you adjust the strap of your bag to start making your way into the office but Sevika’s voice calls out to you once again.

“Do you want to come over to mine tonight?”

You froze.

What?

As you turn around on your heels and inch closer to her, eager for an answer: “To do…?”

Sevika chuckles as she leans into you with a smile, her lips two inches from your own. “Valentine’s dinner. I’m a great cook, angel.”

You really were confused now. Why was she offering you this? Was this a pity dinner?

“Why?”

She sighs at your tone and lifts a hand to cup your face, a rough thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek. With any one else you would’ve flinched away and refused but even with how much you hated her for never giving you the time of day before, your body aches for this. For her touch.

“I don’t like knowing you, of all people, are going to be alone on this day. Let me do this for you, okay?”

You of all people. You despised how much that made you want to shove her against the car and kiss her until she was breathless. You stupidly blush at her words, failing to hide how flustered she made you.

“Okay, fine. What’s the dress code?”

Sevika can’t help but have her lips twitch up into an amused grin, releasing your face in the process.

“No dress code. Come in whatever you feel comfortable in, angel.” She reassures you, nodding as she throws her rag over her shoulder. “Give me your number and I’ll text it to you.”

You blink at her as you realized how in all these two years of knowing her you hadn’t had a good enough reason to have her phone number. You reach into your bag to rip a piece of paper from one of your notebooks and grab a loose pen that was sitting at the bottom to scribble down your number and hand it to her.

“What time should I be there?” You wonder, fiddling with your backpack.

Sevika hums as she checks her watch on her wrist. “It’s 3 right now. I’m almost done here with my truck. 8:30 okay with you?”

You nod, unable to comprehend how this was your reality right now.

“Y-Yeah. That’s good. I’ll leave you to your… handy work,” you try and joke but your awkwardness deceives you.

Sevika thankfully grins at your attempt and shakes her head fondly, motioning to the office.

“Be good and do your work, yeah?”

Your face lit aflame once again, nodding before walking away without another word.

How the hell were you going to survive dinner?

You left the shop only an hour later after you had heard the large garage doors shut. Once you had gotten home, you passed by your dad in the kitchen eating some lunch. He told you that he and your mother were going to dinner and would be late so that you could order in or if you had wanted anything from wherever they were going to eat.

You almost told him you had dinner plans as well but you didn’t want to risk more prying questions so you merely wished them a good night and dinner before scurrying up to your room. You dug through your closet to find something; anything that would be dinner worthy at Sevika’s place.

For the next three hours, you carefully picked out the right dress, the right makeup, shoes, jewelry, purse, panties for fucks sake. Your parents had thankfully left already so they wouldn’t press you as to why you were all ‘done up’.

The whole drive to Sevika’s house was a mental rollercoaster. Talking yourself into not causing five accidents by swerving into a u-turn back home or cancelling out of fear that you’ll be unbearably awkward. Every worst possible outcome you could have imagined flashed into your mind but you scolded yourself into taking a deep breath.

She asked you to dinner, you told yourself. On the most ‘romantic’ day of the year.

It had to mean something.

When you approached the house, you could see if you squinted, Sevika’s figure moving through the orange light through the curtains of the home. It was a small, cozy home. Nothing too crazy or expensive but homey.

Your fiddle with your necklace as you ring the doorbell, sucking in a deep breath as you listen to the heavy footsteps approaching the door. The clicks of the locks send an anxious chill down your spine as the hinges creak open.

Sevika looked perfect. She had on a black button up tucked into a pair of the same shade of slacks, a thick belt holding them up. The sleeves were rolled to her elbows and the top two buttons were left undone to show just the smallest bit of skin. Her hair was tied up in it’s usual half-up, half-down that you’ve seen but she just made it work.

“Hi,” she says softly, a gentle smile on her face. “Come in.”

You couldn’t tell if you were a puddle on the floor or if it was just your insides that had turned to mush. Your fingers tighten on your small velvet purse as you finally open your mouth.

“Hi.”

You take a step into the home and are immediately hit with the smell of marinara sauce and garlic. Your eyes dart from the worn in living room couch to the little bit of decor on the shelves before they land on Sevika who was lingering near the now-shut front door. Her gray eyes meet yours as she motions towards your dress with her large palm.

“You are beautiful, angel.”

You look down at your dress, too, admiring the black lace pattern over the garnet red silk. Your eyes meet hers once again as you take a step forward, daring for her to reach for you.

“Thank you. You are beautiful, Sevika.”

Her eyes seem to soften at your words, shining in a way that you’ve never seen before. Was she… flustered? After she muttered a shy ‘thank you’, her gaze darted to behind you as she motioned a hand to the rather cute set up of a dinner.

A small unscented candle was lit in the middle between two plates of a slice of lasagna and a smaller round plate with a garlic knot resting on it. It looked like restaurant grade food. You could even hear a soft tune of jazz lowly playing throughout the home.

“Sevika, this is so sweet,” you express as you approach the table.

“It’s nothing, really.”

Sevika’s heavy footsteps follow after you, reaching for the chair across from hers. She tugs the seat out and motions for you to sit.

“Such a gentleman,” you tease as you slide into the space and sit yourself down in the old wooden chair with a vintage flower cushion tied to the bottom.

The obvious tension in the air was killing you. It was clear neither of you knew how to start up a conversation so you took the reins as you picked up your fork and shoved it into the layered pasta.

“What was wrong with your truck?” You wince afterwards at the blandness of the question.

Sevika rounded the table after she scooted your chair in. She sits herself down across from you, picking up her own utensils.

“Oh, nothing too terrible. The brake pads needed to be replaced,” she shook her head to wave off your concern. “Did you finish your school wor—“

“Why did you ask me to dinner, Sevika?”

You didn’t mean to cut her off but this has been itching at you since it happened. Sure, she gave you a vague answer at the shop but you didn’t want vague bullshit. You’ve only been eating for a few minutes and the unknown was killing you.

“Honestly?” Sevika questions as she takes a bite of her lasagna, seeming all too calm for your liking.

You suck in a deep breath as you huff out a soft: “Please.”

“I’ve wanted to do this,” she motioned to the air between the two of you with her fork as she explained herself, “since we first met. Your dad and I have a good bond and I didn’t think he would approve of me of all people to take out his daughter, especially seeing how he acts when the other fuckin’ pricks at the shop even try to mention you in front of him.”

That made sense. You take another bite of the food, heat spreading from the base of your neck to the tips of your ears.

“Since we first met?” You question with a giddy grin.

Sevika playfully rolls her beautiful gray eyes at the fact that out of everything, that was the detail you were focused on.

“You’re ridiculous. Yes.”

“So what made you want to ask me now?” Your tone was more light and playful, feeling a lot more assured with this.

Sevika’s dark lips twitch into a small grin, shrugging her broad shoulders.

“I thought when you walked into the shop today that I would finally fuckin’ get over myself and just saying something to let you know I feel but I kind of got lucky it being Valentine’s and you not having plans so I took a chance. Thankfully, you said ‘yes’.”

Thankfully indeed, you thought to yourself.

“This is amazing, by the way. I can’t cook for the life of me.” You point to the warm lasagna, the flavors lingering on your tongue.

Sevika shakes her head with a low whistle at your confession. “22 and you can’t cook, angel?”

Your face heats up at her teasing, opening your mouth as you let out a soft gasp.

“I’m… working on it, okay? Plus, if all things go well tonight, I won’t have to anymore,” you hum as you tilt your head at her, testing the waters.

You watch her every movement as Sevika grabs her glass of wine to take a sip. The way her throat bobbed as she allowed the liquid to trickle down.

“Is that so?” She hums into her glass before setting it back down with a soft clink.

“If that’s okay with you,” you grin innocently.

Sevika’s eyes flicker down to your lips as you take your turn to try the wine. It was a sweeter white wine, the burn of the alcohol washing down your throat.

“More than okay,” she quietly admits as she continues to dig into the lasagna.

A large glass of sweet white wine and the hefty carb-filled meal later, you two talking quietly amongst one another on the couch. Well, okay, Sevika was talking while you were tilting your head as you eye-fucked her at the distance you’ve been craving for the past two years. Watching her dark lips move as she tells you something you were supposed to be listening to but god, you couldn’t focus on anything else but her lips.

The jagged, light scar that on the left side of her lip drove you wild. Maybe it was the wine or the few years of yearning but you were growing needier by the second. The soft hum and rasp of her voice was merely adding to the fire.

“Angel?”

She calls to you, confusion laced in her tone. You blink to focus and sit up from your slouched position, cursing internally at how you let your mind wander.

“Hmm? Yeah?” You hum, a smitten smile growing on your lips.

Her large palm reaches over to rest on her exposed thigh from the slit of your dress folding over, her thumb rubbing over the skin to try and ease you. Your eyes flicker down from her pinky to her thumb, breath hitching at how much of your thigh she was covering.

“Are you tired? You can sleep here. I don’t want you driving after you’ve had something to drink.”

You hold back your scoff as you shake your head as you look back up at her, sucking in a deep breath as you carefully scoot in closer to her. It wasn’t something you did often but it seemed like subtlety wasn’t working with her.

“I’m not tired, Vika,” you whisper, eyes darting down to her lips as you raise one hand to rest on her upper abdomen.

Sevika’s grip tightens on your skin, her breathing quickening at your hand placement. You could feel her stomach flex causing an excitement that you haven’t felt in a long time to rush to your head.

The air around you two was heavy, the both of you hesitant to take what you want. You internally frown when you feel Sevika’s heavy hand remove itself from your thigh. She twiddles with the fabric of the skirt of your dress, avoiding your gaze as she blatantly stares at your lips as her chest rises and falls at a faster speed now.

Fuck it.

You begin to lean into her, moving your hand slowly up her torso to rest on the open area at the top of her chest. Your hand rests at her collarbone as you tilt your head to the side as you press your lips onto hers. Sevika, as anxious as she was appearing, followed your movements in an instant. Her hand that had been tugging at your dress was now cupping the side of your neck, thumbing at your jaw.

You force back your giddy grin as you pull away to ghost your lips over hers, letting out a shaky breath as you make her chase you. Sevika’s hand moves back down to your crossed legs, gripping your thigh with need as she whines.

She fucking whimpers against your lips as she mutters your name. Not ‘angel’ but your name.

You hum at the sound, moving your hands to her shoulders as you throw legs over her lap to straddle her. Sevika hands fly to your waist as you attach your lips once again, running her hands up your body. Her tongue brushes over your bottom lip as your hips grind down on her.

She pants against you, pulling away from your wet lips to look down at her lap at your plush thighs to curse underneath her breath. The sight alone could have her cumming untouched.

“Vika, can we move to your bed? Please?”

Your neediness was obvious as your hands ran down her body, feeling the ridges of her sculpted body that you wanted to so desperately see. Your fingers reach up to her button-up, unhooking a single button as you lean down to kiss at her neck to inhale the perfume and light cigar scent clinging to her skin. “Need you.”

Sevika’s hands grip at your body and press you into her, a shiver running down her back as you nibble on her skin.

She breathes out as her eyes shut at your teeth grazing over the mark you sucked onto her sickness. “Yeah, baby. Come on.”

As she stands up, she hooks her strong forearms underneath your thighs so that your legs could wrap around her hips as she carries you to her bedroom. You couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that you were here at her house, going to her room so that you could fuck her.

“You smell good,” you hum as you snuggle your face into the crook of her neck, wrapping your arms around her neck.

Sevika chuckles underneath her breath at your dazed words as she places a kiss to your scalp as she kicks her door open with her foot, the golden knob tapping the wall with a soft thump. She carefully sets you down on the comforter with a soft grunt.

You look up at her from the bed, eyes blown with lust as you wait for her next move.

“If you want to stop at any moment,” Sevika cups the side of your face, a feeling you’ve grown quite fond of. “You tell me immediately, okay?”

“Sevika, I trust you,” you reassure her softly, sucking in a deep breath. “But I will. I promise.”

Sevika seems to relax a bit more now after you have assured her.

“Good. Now, lay back for me, baby.”

You do as you told and scoot back a bit more up the mattress, your dress bunching up at your hips. Sevika seems to notice how it was bothering you, taking the fabric into her hands gently. You make eye contact with her and nod to signal it was okay for her to take it off of you.

Sevika tugs it up to reveal your deep red panties, a wet maroon patch in the front. You would’ve been a lot more embarrassed but hearing Sevika muttering curses once the dress is off of you and hitting the hardwood floor of her bedroom, your confidence shot through the roof.

Your tits were exposed as you didn’t enjoy wearing bras with dresses like this so here you were, borderline naked on Sevika’s bed. God, you would have laughed in someone’s face if anyone told you you’d be here within two years of meeting Sevika.

“You are perfect, angel.”

Sevika kneels down on her bed, her eyes following over every inch of your skin as if you were a painting. To be admired, not touched. You mutter a soft ‘thank you’ at the compliment, feeling a heat prickle at your underarms.

“You can touch me, you know,” you tease.

This seems to bring Sevika back to the task at hand, nodding with a gentle ‘sorry’ leaving her lips. You shake your head as you were more than flattered that she thought you were beautiful enough to stare at. She leans down to kiss you slowly, pushing you back down onto the bed.

Her knee was pressing into your clothed cunt, the pressure directly being placed onto your aching clit. You let out a shaky breath at the feeling, your hands gripping onto her strong shoulders. Your hips roll a bit to chase the pleasure.

“Needy girl,” she hums against your lips.

She pulls away to trail her lips down your body. Each kiss that was left had you leaning into the touch, eyes fluttering as she moved to your nipples. Your bottom lip catches in between your teeth as she cups your left and runs her tongue over your right. She sucks on the sensitive bud, running her hot tongue over the pebbled skin.

You watch her with no shame, not even daring wanting to look away at the fucking wet dream that was happening in front of you. You could see a spit string glistening on your nipple to her panting lips due to the dim lighting of the room. She adjusts herself so that she can move to the other nipple, pressing her knee onto your cunt once again.

“Vika,” you whine out, begging for her to move further down your body to where you needed her most.

Sevika looks up from your chest, pupils blown to the point where the gray of her eyes was a small ring.

“Tell me.”

You grind into her knee as a response, hoping she would get the hint that you wanted more than just her mouth on your tits. Sevika looks down at your desperate grinding on her knee as your hands run down her back, tugging on the fabric of her black button up.

Sevika pulls away, licking up whatever leftover saliva was on your tits before unbuttoning her shirt. You help her as you start from the bottom, meeting her in the middle as her sculpted body reveals itself to you. You had been teased with the idea from the bottom of Sevika’s shirts lifting when she would stretch or reach for a tool on a higher shelf at your fathers shop but this? Seeing every defined ab and little light scars on her stomach. Your imagination couldn’t compare to the real thing.

You throw her shirt in the direction of your dress, eyeing every ridge of her stomach. She had on a simple black sports bra hugging her tits to her body. As you were checking her out, Sevika was running her hands down yours as she landed right at the waistband of your panties.

She looks up at you as her fingers hook underneath the lace, waiting for your approval. You nod eagerly, lifting your hips up in assistance. Sevika tugs them down, letting out a soft groan at the sight of your slick that collected on the front of your underwear.

Your cunt was wet and fluttering, awaiting for any kind relief. Sevika moves down the bed to lay down on her stomach as she hooks her arms around your thighs to tug you closer to her. You yelp quietly as her slight manhandling of you but is quickly replaced by a moan. Without warning, she sticks her tongue out to drag across your entrance once to get your attention.

Being the absolute tease she was, Sevika kisses right over your clit before trailing her lips to your inner thighs. Irritated, you clamp your thighs on either side of her face, raising your brows down at her. She sighs and tsks, easily gripping your legs to force them back open.

You really were underestimating how strong she was.

“Be patient, angel. I want your thighs on my head when I’m eating this pretty pussy, yeah? Can you do that for me?” She places one more soft kiss on your inner thigh.

All you could muster was a whiny ‘yeah’ in response to her question. She hums, satisfied enough with your answer before delving back into where you needed her most.

Sevika laps her greedy tongue over the dripping entrance of your pussy, hooded eyes watching your body convulse. You moan out as she uses her fingers to spread your lips open to watch your cunt clench hungrily.

“You taste so fucking perfect. Can’t believe I had to wait so long to taste you, angel,” she nearly whines before sucking on your pussy lips.

Her eager licks to your cunt drew you close to your first orgasm, legs clamping on either side of her head. Your hands slip into her hair, entangling in her black strands. Sevika is relentless with her tongue, not letting up until she can taste you cumming.

Your stomach tightens as you ride her arched nose as it hits your clit just right. Your moans change higher in pitch as you could feel your orgasm about to rip through you. You came embarrassingly fast, shivering and gripping onto her hair as her tongue laps up your cum leaking from your cunt.

“Fuck, oh my god,” you whimper as she wraps her arms around your thighs to tug you closer to help you ride out your orgasm.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you try to catch your breath, shuddering when you feel Sevika places a lingering kiss to your clit. She releases your legs to pull her head from your pussy, the top of her head frizzy from your hands and her flyaways clinging to her forehead from the sweat.

“What the fuck?” You pant, a hand resting over your eyes.

Sevika softly chuckles at your words, gently massaging one of your thighs with her free hand. You shiver as you feel one other thick and long fingers tease at your entrance. You buck your hips to urge her to put it inside of you. Sevika hums from above you as she steadily inserts her middle finger.

“You gonna give one more, baby?” She questions as she licks her lips to collect what was left of your slick on her mouth.

You sit up slightly to reach for her neck to pull her down to be face to face with you. Sevika’s lips lock with yours, humming softly as her hand that wasn’t fucking you cups the side of your head. You could taste the lingering cum on her lips as you kiss her softly.

“One more,” you whisper against her lips, pulling away to rest your forehead on hers.

“Just one more, angel,” she whispers back, attentively watching your face to make sure you weren’t hesitating and not telling her.

But all she could see was how blown out your eyes were as you grind your hips weakly on her fingers.

The lewd sound of the squelch of you taking her finger made her smile against your temple. You hum as you feel her leisurely slide her ring finger next to the pointer, soft pants leaving your mouth. Your body was hot all over, sweat gathering above your top lip, the back of your neck and the crook of your hips.

Sevika began to pump her fingers in and out of you, watching the way your pussy lips began to puff up and lather in a mixture of her spit and your slick. She couldn’t get enough of you, wanting to make you see stars from her fingers alone.

You were already out of it; in a daze that boosted her ego.

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this, angel,” she praises as she leans down to kiss your cheek.

“Feel pretty,” you hum, gasping when Sevika’s fingers curl inside of you.

Sevika captures your lips once again as she picks up the pace of her fingers, moaning into your mouth when she feels your gummy walls clenching down on her. You throw your head back at the relentless thrusts, exposing your neck for Sevika to mark up. She wasn’t a big hickey person but watching you let out the prettiest and whiniest moans, all she wanted to do was make sure everyone who would see you the next day that you were hers.

Her lips latch onto the length of your neck, sucking and licking on the skin.

“Right there, baby. O-Oh fuck,” you whine out, not realising the pet name had left your lips.

This encouraged Sevika’s movements. Someone would have to fucking kill her to stop making you come undone like this.

“Yeah?” She places a sloppy kiss to your jaw with a hum.

You shudder as she curls her fingers to hit your g-spot, abusing it with a hungry persistence.

“Y-Yeah.”

Your whole body had basically become jelly in her palms, overwhelmed by the way she was handling you. Borderline pornagraphic moans left your lips as she wouldn’t let up. You think you would start crying if she did, the pleasure already becoming an addictive feeling. You knew at that moment she had ruined you for anyone else; that nothing would be as good as her.

Again, that familiar feeling settled in your lower abdomen. You were going to cum again but it felt… different; more intense than the one before. Your hand flew to her wrist that was fucking into you, not trying to stop her but confused about how the fuck was she doing that.

“Sevika, I-I’m gonna–” Pee?

“I can feel it, angel. Just let go for me. Relax.”

You release her wrist as you let yourself fall back onto the mattress, leaning back onto your forearms. Sevika continues to fuck into you, watching as your puffy cunt began to squirt your cum all over her forearm, even some splashing on her lower stomach. The orgasm shocked up your spine as broken moans leave your mouth, unable to speak to voice your confusion. Your hips buck to chase the most overwhelming orgasm you’ve ever had.

The obscene sight in front of Sevika made her smile to herself, looking down at her squirt-glistening stomach and arm.

“I never…” You trail off as you suck in a deep breath, trying to sit up but the weight of your exhaustion pulls you right back down.

Sevika’s eyes flicker to your shaking inner thighs and the embarrassment in your eyes and it hits her.

“Angel, you’ve never squirted before?” She questions gently.

You shake your head as you blink slowly, your eyelids becoming heavier by the second.

Sevika carefully removes her fingers from your cunt, shushing you with a ‘I know, baby’. You reach for her with weak arms, sighing in relief when she holds you close to her and maneuvers the two of you to avoid the wet spot on the bed.

“I think you killed me,” you mutter into her chest.

“Well, stay alive for a little bit longer. I’m gonna run a bath for you.”

You didn’t realize how sticky you felt until she mentioned the bath. The mix of fluids on your body made you frown until you remember what had just happened. You fucked Sevika.

Well, she fucked you. Better than you’ve ever experienced from the weak and careless attempts you’ve had before her.

“I’m sorry about your sheets,” you wince at the sight of the damp area that you can see out of the corner of your eye.

Sevika shakes her head as she rubs a hand over your naked back to help steady your breathing.

“Don’t be. It felt good, right?” Sevika looks down at you with a teasing grin.

You scoff at her words. “I just said ‘I think you killed me’. What do you think?”

Sevika leans down to peck your lips a few times, mumbling ‘just making sure’ onto your lips. The two of you lay there on her bed for you couldn’t even remember for how long as the rest of the night was a blissful blur. She carried you to the bathroom to sit on the toilet to make sure you pee so that you don’t get an infection and ran you a bath.

The bath helped your sticky feeling. Sevika joined you not too long after you did because well, you had asked her nicely. Lavender-scented bubbles engulfed the two of you, the warm water easing your aching bodies. With your back against her naked chest, you push out a question.

“Are we… dating?”

Sevika was tracing your arm that was resting on the white ceramic of the tub, resting her cheek on the top of your head. There was a mean voice in the back of her head calling her ridiculous to think you would want to be with her; but she ignores it for now.

“We can be. I wouldn’t mind this with you,” she hums as she picks up your hand to hold carefully.

Sevika didn’t specify what ‘this’ was but you hoped it meant more bubble baths and sweet dates. Oh and the endless amount of orgasms.

“Yeah, I want this too,” you grin down at your intertwined fingers. A haunting thought took over your brain, knowing you’d have to mention it at some point. “What about my dad?”

Sevika’s body tenses for a moment but she relaxes the moment you snuggle more into her.

“Well, we can keep it between us for now. Tell him when we feel ready.” Sevika assures you as she runs her thumb over the back of your soap-coated hand.

Between us, your mind echoed. You were okay with that.

TAG-LIST: @strawberrykidneystone @vii-v @savedforlaterr @jiungmcvv @theuclid @luvrmunson @dumcurlyhead @sevikasrightboob @sapphiellar @auraclus @her-gayness @starmaniii @vinxernica @seriouschaosshrimp @amenazaaaa @femininefables @genderfluidlesbain999 @val3ntinswrrld @elliessgfsstuff @iluvwomensm @chaosisclassy @razziematazz @555aturn @graciedollie @vintage-karma @skhv67 @eyelinerfemme @sevikasllver @girlbossuser @acclaaa @lambilegs @pavelyasz @lulumania @applekittypie @darylswifeeyy @belldonic @vangoes @hell0-ki55y @shookkatofthat @mqrzie @sexysapphicshopowner @cstbdf @iristhemuse @sevikasshimmerstrap @tojibestslut @abbysunderwear @sevi-kas01 @paigesbabymama @themostlesbianever @wh1smyk1tten @danimp3 @somos-things @slut4sevika @berntderse @skaireso @aliluvszs @55vies (TAGS CONT IN COMMENTS!)

[millers-angel]

patrol!joel x female reader

summary: joel scolds you because you messed up a patrol, until he makes you cry and realizes he crossed the line. warnings: scolding, mean joel, thumb sucking, smut ig, they get caught by tommy.

“are you stupid? you wanna die?” he grunted, clearly upset with you.

ha had been upset for a while, lecturing you on how you have to be more careful, but as he did, you both kept walking till you got inside the safe place—an abandoned house in the middle of the woods.

“i always have to repeat myself every goddamn time. stay quiet, do what i say, and most importantly, don't do anything stupid," he said, dropping his gear onto a table. "and that's exactly what you do."

you stayed quiet, holding back tears. you liked coming on patrols with him, except this time tommy came with you, but you fucked up. you didn’t listen, you put yourself in danger, and joel had to come find you—again.

he scoffed, shaking his head. “should’ve just left you out there. maybe then you’d finally learn.”

his words hit hard, and you felt your throat tighten, your vision blurring.

“you don’t listen, you never fucking listen,” he went on, voice rough with frustration. “i tell you to stay close, i tell you to stay quiet, and what do you do? the exact opposite. every goddamn time.”

he ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. “you think this is a game? you think i like risking my ass for you every time you decide to be reckless?”

you bit your lip, trying to keep it together, but the lump in your throat only grew. he was mad—really mad. you were looking at your boots wipping your tears away, you didn't want him to see you like this.

he exhaled hard through his nose, his breath heavy with frustration. his hands were on his hips, fingers digging into his belt as he tried to calm down. but when he looked down, he saw you sitting there on a worn couch, head bowed, your pants dotted with tiny dark spots.

tears.

his jaw clenched. maybe he’d been too harsh. maybe he’d gone too far.

“you good?” his voice was still rough, but quieter now.

you nodded quickly, wiping at your face.

“use your words,” he muttered. “now you're quiet, huh?”

you swallowed thickly, voice barely above a whisper. “i’m fine.”

he huffed, unconvinced. “look at me.”

you shook your head.

joel sighed, deep and slow, forcing himself to be patient. then, with a gentleness that didn’t match his earlier anger, he reached out, fingers curling under your chin, tilting your face up.

watercolor eyes. tear-streaked cheeks. swollen lips.

his grip tightened just slightly, his own frustration shifting into something else.

you sniffled, wiping at your nose with your sleeve, but it didn’t do much to stop the way your shoulders shook. joel exhaled, rubbing a hand over his beard. without a word, he grabbed you and pulled you onto his lap, his arms firm around you as he sat.

you didn’t resist. you never did.

“i’m sorry,” you murmured, voice unsteady. “i didn’t mean to put you at risk. or tommy. i won’t do it again.” you swallowed, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket. “i get it if you don’t want me on patrols with you anymore. or if you just want to give me the easy routes.”

joel sighed, his chest rising and falling against your back.

“i tell you this shit for a reason,” he said, voice quieter now. “it’s dangerous out here. you keep acting like this, and it’s gonna catch up to you. and i don’t want that. i don’t want anything happening to you.”

you hesitated, then whispered, “really?”

“yeah, really.” his grip on you tightened just slightly. “i get so goddamn mad ‘cause you’re stubborn. you don’t listen. you scare the hell outta me.”

you were still new to patrols, still learning the way things worked out here. and you liked going with joel for two reasons—because you wanted to learn from him, to be as capable as he was, and because no matter how bad things got, no matter how much he yelled, it always ended the same way. with him pulling you close, keeping you safe... and his cock deep down inside you.

you loved being with joel on patrol, the way he moved with such ease, like he was made for this. every step was calculated, every decision precise. the way he handled the knife, the rifle—how it all seemed so natural to him, like he was in complete control. when danger came, he didn’t hesitate. he knew exactly what to do, and you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he commanded the situation.

and when things got tough, when he needed to push you out of harm’s way or pull you into cover, there was something about the way he manhandled you that drove you crazy. it was rough, but it was him taking control, keeping you safe. and in those moments, with his hands on you, you felt safe. you felt protected—like now.

you hiccupped, the sound shaky from how much you’d cried. joel’s thumb brushed your cheek, his hands gentle as he lifted your face to meet his eyes.

“i’m not gonna put you with anyone else,” he said softly. “we’re gonna keep going together, on patrols.”

you looked up at him, surprised. “really?”

“yeah, really,” he muttered, his voice a little rough. “i wouldn’t leave you with anyone else, not when you’re putting yourself at risk every damn minute. no one else is gonna risk their ass for you like i do.” he paused, a flash of frustration in his eyes before he noticed your lip trembling.

he softened, his thumb tracing your bottom lip, trying to calm you. “you’re damn stubborn, you know that?”

he pressed his thumb on your lips, parting them, so you sucked him. "that it," he said softly—too softly. "that's gonna calm you down."

you closed your eyes, holding his hand close to you, sucking his thumb as if your life depends on it, you pressed your tongue on it, lips tight around him. he loved the sensation, he loved when you sucked on his fingers just as you suck on his cock.

you opened your eyes when you felt a growing bulge beneath your thighs, meeting his gaze, all dark. nothing but desire behind them. he could yell at you all he wants—make you cry even, but you'll always end up like this.

his other hand made its way under your shirt, the feeling made you squirm. he played with the tip, squeezing it between his fingers, pulling it gently, getting muffled moans on his thumb in response.

and that was enough for him, he needed to fuck you now. he took his thumb out your mouth to tug your shirt over your head, your skin prickled when the breeze hit your bare breasts. he loved seeing thoes perky tips all hard for him. he got rid of your jeans too, throwing them somewhere in the dusty cabin.

"joel... we should go looking for tommy," you mumbled between gasps.

"he can take care of himself, i'm taking care of you."

he loved having you like this, all naked and vulnerable. he had fucked you behind a tree, over a rock, on the grass, in old cabins like this one, even in the back of an abandoned jeep, its wheels long deflated and covered in dust. he knows he's the only one who got to see you like this, back in jackson you're all shy with everyone, they don't know you're his personal little sex toy.

he made you stand up for him to unzip his jeans and then, he made you lean over the coach, while you positioned yourself on your hands and knees, you knew the drill, you knew what he liked. what he liked to see.

by god he loved the view.

all you felt then, was his dick trailing your slit, you were wet, and he can tell you got a while like that. you love being scolded, the tone of his voice, the way his eyes gets dark, the way you know it's because he wants to protect you. yeah, it got you wet.

he slammed his cock in you, you let out a gasp and gripped to the backrest of the couch. he dug his fingers on your hips when he thrusted. you were warm, too warm and soft inside, always making him feel like he's about to come as soon as he gets in, like a goddamn teenager.

"you take this cock so good," he muttered.

you were biting your lip to not moan, cause you had to be careful, right? he said it. you must be careful from now on.

"lemme hear you, baby," he grunted, fingers going white from his grip on you.

your grip on the couch loosened. "b-but you said we must be quiet and careful—"

he almost chuckled, you're adorable. "i don't want you quiet when i'm fucking you"

and his approval was all you need to let those breathy little moans bubble up from your mouth. he went harder, couldn’t stop once he saw how your skin jiggled with every thrust. he loved that.

he was leaving his fingerprints on your skin. one of his hands slipped between your thighs, making its way to your clit. you held your breath. he could feel it, swollen, probably aching and needy. he drew circles around it.

“poor baby,” he cooed, your legs trembled cause it was too much, he was too thick, and his fingers stroking your most sensitive spot, you went weak. “you like causing trouble?”

he pressed his fingers on your clit, feeling how it throbs. “no—“

he slapped it. “be fucking honest.”

you squirmed, it felt too good. “i do.” you admitted in a moan. “i like causing trouble.”

he rubbed the little button harder. “i know," of course he does, weird thing you always do the same to end up with his cock buried deep inside you. you love being trouble so he can fuck you right after. "stubborn as hell."

you curl your toes, his fingers worked so good, he sent you to a bliss, your walls choking him. he wasn't being gentle. he loved seeing you falling apart, seeing your legs get weak.

"joel, please—" you cried out.

"this mine, yeah?" you. you're his. "you ain't goin' on patrols with anyone but me, understood?"

you whimpered. "ah—yes."

he let out a chuckle, delighted to see you like this. he knows you're his, but he likes to remind you.

"i'm gonna get you all round so everyone in town knows you're mine too." his hand drifted to your belly. "right here."

he moved his hand a little lower just enough to feel himself, stretching you out. "attagirl," he cooed. "come f'me."

you fell apart beneath him, your body squirming, trembling legs, spasming walls that milked him out, but he didn't stop thrusting, not until he was sure you were filled up.

the cabin was a bunch of whimpering from both of you.

until…

the door swung open. you’ve been caught.

by tommy.

he had been looking for you since you didn’t show up to the meeting point they have in case something happened—so he came looking for you, thinking the worst, it’s been a while and he’s exhausted, sweating. he should be upset because you made him worry and waste his time when all you were doing was fucking.

but more than upset he was… aroused. the quiet girl he knew back in town wasn’t being that quiet and shy right now. the quiet girl loved having a cock buried inside her.

he had to adjust his jeans before coming further. “what the fuck is this?” he asked.

your face went pale and you tried to cover yourself but it was pointless—joel didn’t let you. he knew his brother well enough.

“‘s this what you’ve been doing? you have an idea how many time i’ve been looking for you? you—“

“cut the shit tommy,” joel growled.

“so this is the quiet girl from jackson, huh?” he leaned, fingers on your jaw, making you look at him. your lip was trembling.

joel pulled out with a loud pop sound, his cum dripping from your cunt, your thighs all sticky with the mess you made.

"you're gonna explain?" tommy asked to his brother, but not letting go his grip on your jaw, you were curling your toes, being in the middle of the miller brothers always got you nervous. "is she your

"she's mine," joel said firmly. "but i'm sure she wants you to fill her up, don't you sweetheart?"

you nodded, holding eye contact with tommy, then your eyes drifted to the bulge on his pants.

"she can be our secret."

[everlastingserenitys]

virgin nerd!zayne and virgin nerd!Caleb

featuring (seperate): zayne & Caleb

cw. p in v, making out, raw, reassurance, submissive!!!, cùmming inside, creampie, semi public (Caleb), masturbation

a/n. just a little thirst lol

virgin nerd!zayne who didnt know how he got in this situation. but here he was. his large figure loomed over you, he was breathing heavily as he looked into your beautiful eyes.

all he did was invite you over for a project you two we're assigned to do, but one part of the project contained for you both to touch each other, and while zayne never felt the touch of another woman he didn't think he'd overreact this bad.

virgin nerd!zayne who hesitantly leaned in, his lips inches away from yours.

his hot breath coaxed your soft lips before he silently begged for him to take you. to your surprise, you didn't expect this type of question coming out of his mouth.

and so, you agree.

virgin nerd!zayne who let out a shaky sigh before he captured your lips into an intense kiss, his tongue sliding right through your lips, as he tasted every inch of it.

he knew he shouldn't be doing this but the constant times he caught you staring at him, made him feel something in him. he fantasized about you so many times, and now that you were with him, he took the opportunity to fulfil his dreams.

with the knowledge of what he's been learning the past few years from his medical class, he assumed he knew what he was doing, so he hoped he was making you feel somewhat good.

a few seconds pass and virgin nerd!zayne pulls away from the kiss, panting like he just ran a marathon. he pulled himself away from you and rested his frail fingers on the belt of his pants.

a soft whine escaped his lips before he unbuckled the belt in a quick movement and letting it fall to the ground, letting a clack echo through the room.

he swiftly removed his boxers and his searing, dripping cock sprung out of him. zayne lifted your hips to align himself with you and in a quick movement he pressed his tip against your soaking entrance.

"I think...I–ngh?!" zayne had already got the tip inside you and he already felt like he was going to cum, his hips slowly rocked back and forth as pleasure was rushing through his body.

"zay--go faster!" you whine, rocking yourself against him in a quicker movement and he tried to tell you to slow down but his vocal chords suddenly stopped working.

a loud moan escaped his lips, and thats when you felt it...

he came, right. inside. you.

"s-sorry! I couldn't hold back..." he apologized quickly, and tried to pull away, but for some reason he wanted more. so instead of fully pulling out, he sucked in a deep breath and thrusted himself in you, this time deeper than before.

you felt as if your pussy was going to rip off from his large length suffocating and stretching you out further, and further. you instinctively grab onto his arms and dug your nails in his biceps, trying to keep up with his rhythm.

"zayne! 'm gonna c-cu--mmgh" you tilt your head back and release your hands from his arms, resting them to your sides. zaynes eyes watched as his and your cum pooled out of your cunt and he pressed his finger against your clit, stretching it out watching the whole mess you two made.

a soft smile was plastered on zayne's face before he leaned in, planting small kisses on your face.

virgin nerd!caleb who was apart of the photography club. he would go to that club after school, every. single. day. and only take pictures of his muse, his only girl.

but one school day you weren't here and caleb was a little concerned. now, usually, he would never want to visit your place without letting you know. but he needed to do his daily ritual for taking pictures of you.

so he snuck into the deans office and looked through the files of the students at the college, his fingers slid through every file until he finally found yours, bingo!

he opened it up and pulled up the address on his phone, the walking distance was only a few minutes away. so, Caleb put the file away and walked over to your place.

but he was met with disappointment when he saw that your whole house was pitch black, his lips dropped to a frown and he headed back to the school, going to the printer room to pick up his previous photos of you.

when virgin nerd!caleb opened the door, he was met with a surprise he did not want to see.

you, leaning against the printer as you flipped through the dozens of prints, and Caleb prayed it was not the pictures of you.

you lift your gaze from the papers and look at Caleb, an eyebrow raised when your eyes tilted down to the camera Caleb was holding, and thats when Caleb knew he was fucked.

"I- listen, um.." Caleb stammered, but he couldn't bring himself to make an excuse, there was no point anyway. you pushed yourself off the table and strut towards Caleb, who was still shaking in fear (and pleasure)

"what do you do with these photos, hm?" you ask, pressing the multiple photos on his chest. but when your fingers barely made contact with his chest Caleb let out a quiet whine and shoved the photos in his pocket.

"I don't...do anything I swear!"

"you sure? then you're telling me you just take these photos without fantasizing about me? or pleasuring yourself to these?" you tease, poking at his chest again. but Caleb couldn't deny it, he did sometimes jerk himself as he looked at the photos he taken of you. he didnt know what captivated him to take pictures of you.

"sorry" Caleb frowned, lifting his glasses on the bridge of his nose as he continued to avoid your gaze.

"so what do you think about while you look at them, huh?" you ask, a hint of curiosity laced your voice. Calebs face flushed and he continued to look down as he fidgeted his camera between his fingers.

"uh...I don't know if I should say it here..."

"if you can't say it, then why don't you show me?"

Calebs eye's widened and he looked up at you, his eyes filled with surprise and he asked if you're being for real. and when a single nod left you, caleb placed his camera on the table and brought you into a desperate kiss.

his fingers slide through your hair and god, he didn't even know how to kiss but the feeling of you against him made him feel soo horny. he rubbed himself against your lower abdomen and a groan escaped both of your lips.

"Caleb!"

the sound of his name escaping your lips made Caleb's heart beat quicker. he pulled away and glanced around the illuminated room before pulling his pants down, pulling his cock out as he stared at you.

he wrapped his fingers around the creamy head of his cock and he stroked himself in a slow, deliberate movement, as his eyes were locked on you. your eyes dart from his slow movements on his cock to his desperate eyes, which looked like they were seeking for something more.

"please.." Caleb whispered, he pulled his fingers away and stepped towards you, grabbing onto your hips as he pushed you against the desk. you moan and slip your fingers under the waistband of your pants, pulling them down for him.

Calebs eyes filled with lust as he noticed your laced panties on display for him. when your pants dropped down to your feet, Caleb slid his fingers under the laced fabric and he pulled them down, watching the wet mess pool down you.

he shuddered before pressing his tip against your soaking pussy and in a quick movement he thrusted himself into you. his cock was stretching your tight pussy and you grabbed onto the desk as Caleb continued to push himself into you.

"Caleb- rock your hips! d-don't just keep pushing yourself in!" you warned, rocking your hips against his. Caleb obediently listens and he rocked his hips back and forth.

his cock fit perfectly in your pussy, and moans filled the room as Caleb quickened his pace in you. "am- am I doing it right? ngh." his voice stammered.

"p-perfect!" you arch your back in pleasure and Caleb was already trying to hold his release but the second your fingers slide through his hair, Caleb let a groan of pleasure escape out of him and a spur of white mixture sprawled out of him.

"thank you.." he muttered, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulled you into a tight hug.

this is just a practice and for some reason I rlly like the photography idea... kinda wanna make a whole fic about it lol

[hollandsangel]

voice | m. sturniolo

i had this idea a million years ago, please enjoy!!

summary: chris wonders if you can tell his and matt’s voice apart

warnings: super fluffy!! a bit suggestive at the very end, i’m questioning if it’s good or not

wc: 1.6k

gif by @mattsturnioloarchive !

“i call shower first!” you exclaim the second the garage door is open, sprinting past matt up the stairs to his bathroom.

“there’s three showers,” chris says matter-of-factly as you blow past him on the steps, holding a hand out in confusion.

matt sighs and follows behind you, passing chris as well, “yeah, but you don’t have to share,” 

you’re already on the mainfloor, running into matt’s bedroom to grab the change of clothes you’d left earlier.

“i’m so glad i don’t have a girlfriend,” chris mutters, earning a smack upside the head from nick, “jesus, fuck, what,”

“you’re just annoying,” nick says, deciding it’s a good enough explanation and getting a laugh out of matt.

“agreed,” matt’s still chuckling when they reach the kitchen table, setting down the take out the four of you had gotten on your way back to the house. he hears the water turn on in his bathroom, accompanied by the soft sound of your voice as you sing along to your music.

“oh she’s a nicki fan,” nick says to no one in particular, referencing the tik tok sound when he notices you’re listening to a nicki minaj song. 

matt looks up from the bag of food and laughs.

chris sinks into the couch but looks over at matt, arm slung over the cushions, “i wonder if she could tell our voices apart,” he says after a second. 

“what?” matt asks, thinking the question is mildy rediculous. 

“like do you think she could recognize your voice?” chris explains, wandering into the kitchen now. opening a pepsi and leaning up against the counter. 

nick chimes in now, having been fiddling with the vlog camera and battery, “like compared to you and me?” he asks chris, glancing back at matt as if to say ‘is this guy for real?’

“yeah,” chris nods.

“yeah, obviously she’d be able to tell my voice apart from yours,” matt is looking back at the food again, tone matter-of-fact, as if what he’d said was absolute common sense. 

chris is quiet for about half a second and matt thinks that’s the end of that absurd conversation. it isn’t, of course. 

“should we test it out?” chris asks through a sip of soda.

matt officially gives up on trying to set the food up, throwing his hands up in mock surrender before turning to chris, “and how are we gonna do that?”

chris shrugs, but nick has an idea, “chris, you could like, just go ask her for something, if you left something in the bathroom—“

“absolutely not,” matt shuts it down immediately with a shake of his head, “you're not going in the bathroom when my girlfriend is showering,”

“i won’t even go all the way in!! i’ll cover my eyes,” chris promises, but matt is still skeptical. “i’ll just like poke my head in the door and ask if i left like..a belt or some shit in there,” is chris’ next offer. 

matt sighs and thinks about it, weighing the pros and cons. of course you can tell his voice apart from his brothers…right? he’s making himself nervous, pysching himself out and worrying they all sound the same to you. it upsets him for some reason, he can’t quite decide why.

“fine,” he agrees after a beat of silence, convincing himself you know whis voice well enough to separate it from chris’, and if you can’t, he thinks he might actually feel a sick twinge of unjustified jealousy.

“yes,” chris mutters under his breath, always excited to pull a prank on anyone.

“this is definitely going in the vlog,” nick says, still messing with the camera and coming to sit at the kitchen table where matt is now.

“i can’t believe i agreed to this,” matt mumbles, rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath. he stands from his seat and walks over to the wall where he can see the bathroom door, feeling some what protective, like he needs to supervise chris to make sure he doesn’t wander too far into the bathroom.

“what should i say?” chris turns back arms pulled in close to his body as if he’s nervous. he’s already grinning and trying to keep from laughing.

“ooh, call her sweetheart, matt always does that,” nick suggests, wiggling his brows in matt’s direction to tease him.

“oh my god,” matt groans softly, rubbing at his eyes, “i fucking hate you guys,”

“okay, i’m going in,” matt drops his hands at that, eyes on his brother immediately. chris puts a hand over his eyes, just as he said he said he would before knocking on the door. nick has the camera out to record and is trying to stifle his laugh in the collar of his hoodie.

at the sound of the knock matt hears your voice, calling out for him, no doubt thinking it’s him at the door. he has to cover his mouth, partly out of nerves but also to keep himself from saying anything.

“yeah,” chris starts, needing to take a second before continuing because he’s already making himself laugh. “yeah, sweetheart, did i leave my belt in here?” he asks, barely stood in the doorway of the bathroom.

“uhh, i think it’s in your bedroom?” you say after a slight pause, about to poke your head out from behind the shower curtain, but chris has already mumbled a ‘thanks’ and essentially sprinted out of the bathroom, closing the door and crumbling to the floor in giggles.

“you’re not fucking real,” matt shakes his head, laughing softly himself and pushing off the wall to go back to the kitchen table. he’s a bit bummed that you didn’t realize it wasn’t his voice, but he keeps that to himself.

nick pans the camera over to matt’s face, which seems expressionless, even with both his brothers cackling outside of the frame.

you come out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, heading into matt’s bedroom to drop the clothes you’d changed out of. matt is instantly sitting back up, the legs of his chair scraping along the hardwood floors.

“ooh, someone’s pissed,” nick turns the camera to himself, eyeing the now closed door.

“that was too fucking good,” chris says after a deep breath, still recovering from laughing so hard. he pulls a chair out next to nick and the two start to explain what had happened to the camera, eyes flicking up to matt’s door every few seconds.

in the bedroom you’re putting your dirty clothes back into your bag when matt comes in, looking a little bit pouty, “hey baby,” you turn towards him, laughing at the slightly pathetic look he gives you, “what’s up?” you wonder.

“m’ tired,” he tells you, slumping up against you for a hug. you wrap your arms around him and rub his back, letting him lay his weight into you.

“we’ll eat and go to bed, yeah?” you give his back another little pat when he nods against you, “mkay, let’s go,” you kiss his cheek quickly, only to have him turn his head in search of a real kiss. you oblige of course.

nick and chris have already started eating and updating the vlog on their day when you and matt come out of the bedroom. matt joins them at the table but you head for the fridge to grab a drink. “oh, did you find your belt?” you ask matt, still digging around.

“what?— oh yeah” he mumbles, gaze turned down to his fries.

“okay good. by the way you sounded so much like chris when you came in— it freaked me the fuck out” you say with your head in the fridge, still searching for the diet coke you know you left inside the door, “did one of you drink my coke–”

“wait what?” matt’s head snaps up, food forgotten.

“hmm?” you turn around to find all three boys looking at you. nick’s mouth open in a half smile and chris clearly trying not to burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. matt’s just staring at you with eyes a little bit too wide before he speaks up.

“what do you mean i sounded weird?” he asks, leaning forward. you notice nick’s shut up about whatever he was saying to the camera earlier, pointing the lens at you now.

“i dunno, when you said sweetheart it just sounded super fucking weird— why are you guys looking at me like that–” you have to ask, feeling slightly weirded out by the intensity of their gazes

“i knew it!!” matt cheers, punching the air and doing a silly little dance as nick doubles over and starts hitting the table.

chris’ jaw drops and he presses his fingers into his eyes as he laughs next to his brother, leaning on him.

matt bounds over to you with a grin, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the ground slightly.

“whaaaat,” you giggle, clearly confused by their reaction. 

“it was me,” chris manages to say between bouts of laughter, “we– we were trying to see if you could tell our voices apart.”

“of course i can tell your voices apart, especially your voice,” you turn towards matt, saying it like it should be obvious, like it’s silly they doubted you for even a second. 

matt’s just grinning at you, feeling a strange sense of pride swelling in his chest, “i knew you could,” 

“bullshit!” chris exclaims, both him and nick still leaning against each other as they laugh.

“he’s right, you were freaked the fuck out,” nick manages to say between giggles, “you watched chris like a fucking hawk when he opened the bathroom door,” he looks over at you, his smile contagious, “he was definitely freaked the fuck out,”

matt groans and drops his head against your shoulder. you brush your fingers through his hair and chuckle to yourself, “awe matt,” you coo, “i definitely know your voice, i’ll probably be hearing lots of it later anyways.”

tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose

[dilf-docs]

It Always Leads To You

dbf!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

cr: divider by @kodaswrld / gif @tomshiddles

[svnriseblvdd]

neighbour! clark kent x new girl! reader

the highly requested expansion on this post, in which your neighbour clark kent is so helpful, and so adorably awkward that you can't help but tease him.

mildly suggestive, mdni

part one! part two!

Your parents decided to move out of the city to this small, unknown farming town for whatever reason. You're in a new place, no friends, nothing to do. Then your mother sends you to pick up a food order from a nearby farm. Thinking about Mrs Kent calling for her son Clark to come help you with all these heavy boxes and bags and this gorgeous 6-foot-something boy comes out all tall and muscular with the sweetest smile. He's in that tight white t-shirt and jeans with a belt combo, tied together with that boyish charm that has you nearly swooning as he comes over. 

“Hey, mom.” 

“Can you help carry all of this? I don't want her struggling all the way home.” 

You think that a long walk like that with someone as pretty as Clark Kent might kill you. “Oh  really, Mrs Kent-” Mrs Kent gives you a look “- Martha, it's not a problem. I don't live that far, I think I can do it.” 

“No, no, I insist. Clark will help you.” 

You look to Clark and offer a smile which he returns. Oh, he's far too cute. You're pretty sure your heart is close to bursting out of your chest. Damn the Kents and their hot-as-hell farmboy son. Damn Smallville for thrusting this man upon you. Damn the powers that be for dangling him in front of you, teasing you with his existence. 

“Thank you, Martha,��� you say, and she nods with a smile before heading back inside with a goodbye and a well-wish. 

Clark bends down to grab the crates, which he stacks on top of each other, ladening his arms with bags as well, leaving a very small percentage of the order to be carried by you. “Uh, I can take some of that if you-” 

“No, totally fine. It’s not that heavy.” 

Your eyebrows raise, eyes briefly flitting down to look at his biceps, now flexed and really pressing against the confines of his sleeves. Then you blink back to reality and bend down to pick up the other bags, beginning the walk with Clark at your side. 

“I’m Clark, by the way,” he introduces himself, and you give him your name. “Right, you guys just moved here from Central City?” 

“Yeah, how did you-” 

“Not much really passes for gossip around here. So, how are you liking Smallville?” 

“Oh, it’s great. Real party town. Cream corn capital of the world, I hear,” you remark sarcastically, and Clark chuckles, shaking his head. “No, it’s definitely a change of pace. Not exactly a totally welcome one, but I don’t think it can get much worse.” 

“Are you not settling in?” 

“Oh, I’m settled. Totally. Just that it’s not really easy being in a new place and knowing nobody.” 

“Well, now you’ve got me.” 

“Oh, do I now?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I could be a horrible person, Clark. You can’t just go around letting total strangers into your life like this.” 

He shrugs. “You know, I think it’d be a little more obvious if you were evil.” 

You hold up a finger. “I didn’t say evil, just horrible.” 

“Well, I don’t think you’re horrible either. I’d like to think I have a pretty good sense for these things.” 

“Yeah, well. You can never be too careful around complete strangers.” 

“I’m pretty sure I could handle myself if you turned out to be a serial killer or a bandit or something,” Clark says. 

You eye his physique again. “Yeah, probably. I mean, what do you bench, a tractor?” Clark laughs a little awkwardly, and you feel yourself turning hot with embarrassment. “Sorry. I wasn’t - I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and I wasn’t checking you out or anything. It’s just that you’re very noticeably strong.” 

He gives another one of those charming smiles. “Don’t worry, you’re okay.” 

Somehow, it seems Clark is more embarrassed by the situation than you are. 

And when you finally reach your house, and Clark helps carry everything inside, you decide to test something. 

You’re putting away something in a low cupboard, bending at the waist, ass right in front of him, and when you stand straight and turn around, Clark has turned a bright shade of red and avoids eye contact as best as possible. 

And before he leaves, you voice your gratitude, going above and beyond to tell him that you’re so grateful for him being there to help. “Thank you so much, Clark. You were so helpful. Just let me know how I can return the favour, I’ll help any way I can.” 

And then you’re giving him a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and a happy goodbye, watching him leave with empty crates and a blush on his cheeks. He’s far too cute. 

You like Clark Kent. Not just because of his smile or his biceps or eyes or hair. Because he’s kind, funny, and oh so helpful. It doesn’t hurt that you also like how he turns red.