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joeloverture · 9 months ago

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snowbound | dbf!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | updates blog | ao3 mirror pairing: dbf!joel miller x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] joel is the only guy you know with four wheel drive in the rarely-snowy state of texas, so it seems like a no-brainer to have him pick you up from work — until his truck breaks down, leaving you two to the classic 'huddle for warmth' solution. warnings: (18+ mdni) dbf!joel, age gap (assumed 20s/40s), reader borrows joel's coat, but does not wear it and uses it as a blanket, self-indulgent humor & banter, joel has sarah and she's a 15y/o menace which means liberties are taken with the timeline, blink & miss it drug mention, close proximity, unprotected piv sex, vaginal fingering, (mocking) dirty talk & dirty talk alluding to anal but no actual anal, daddy kink, degradation, dom!joel, brat!reader, brat tamer!joel, mild bondage (with a scarf), rearview mirror sex, clit stim, riding, doggy, a few pussy spanks, 2 spanks, truck sex, sort of edging, getting caught after the act [no use of y/n] word count: 12.3k a/n: this fic was a labor of love from a request i received earlier this month. i didn't expect it to be this long but i really enjoyed these two! massive massive massive shoutout to talia, @lovesickonmybed, for putting up with me + advising. this fic was way too much to handle on my own. they're the reason i pulled it off. joel is latino here, but i think game!joel can be interpreted as latino too, so read who you'd like.

“Looking ahead for our chances at wintry precipitation tonight – measurable snow, freezing rain, or sleet. It’s hard to get snow here in central Texas – if only, huh? We’re seeing some strong flurries tonight, turning into snow showers in the early morning. Low chances of any significant build up, but you can expect hazardous driving conditions. Black ice and low visibility will make extensive travel dangerous–”

The radio in Keith’s Hardware is old fashioned, curving around the volume and tuning knobs. It’s one of the ones that still has a dial pointer, which is almost always aimed at 92.7 if Keith’s in the back (country); 96.7 (pop) if it’s just you and the only other girl that works in the carpenter’s wet dream of a store. Right now, though, it’s neither of those stations. The pointer is at 162.4, the weather station.

You’d known you were in for it on the drive into work. Watch the weather and it’s real nasty out there airing from your parents lips on your way out of the house for your eight hour shift. The drive had been a gunmetal sort of gray, clouds streaked through the sky and spitting bullets of sleet at your windshield.

For a little bit, the weather had almost cleared up. You’d sworn you’d seen a splotch of sun when you’d tried to step out for break, just to be driven back in by your too-thin jacket and the cold as balls temperature.

Now, though? It’s fucking freezing, and the flurries that the weatherman mentioned are starting to fall. And as much as you’d told Keith that your shitty two-wheel-drive couldn’t handle it, he’d insisted on scheduling you and Liz for close.

Which is where Mr. Miller comes in.

Joel Miller, your dad’s buddy. Joel Miller, the grumpiest secret-softie you’ve ever met. Joel Miller, a knight in shining armor with his 4x4 Ford F150 instead of a horse. Although, if your fantasies are correct – and you like to think they are – what’s between his thighs certainly makes up for the lack of a horse. But he isn’t bringing you for a ride on his cock. He just so happens to be the only man your dad knows with a four wheel drive vehicle, or at least the only one willing to spare you from spinning out by giving you a ride home. Just thinking about it has a knot pinching in the back of your throat. His hands, big and wide and stretching over the gear shift. One muscled arm dangling over the wheel. Looking over his goddamn shoulder to back out —

Liz hops up on the check-out counter where you’re counting up the last of the cash, a spread of Hamiltons, Grants, and Jacksons. You wouldn’t expect a girl like her to work at a hardware store, especially one in the backstreets of the seedy part of town. Some sort of family emergency had driven her back to Austin from NYU design school, which you’re thankful for. Mainly because you get out of cutting wood panels since she has the better eye for measurements, but also because after years of sulking in Keith’s, you finally have someone to talk shit with.

“Those heart eyes aren’t for fuckin’ Alexander Hamilton,” Liz says, tapping her acrylics on your ledger to get your attention. You cough, flipping her off with your pen still in-hand. Liz hums, pretending to think about it as you put down the last numbers. “Although I wouldn’t be too surprised. You do love a geriatric man.”

“Joel isn’t that old,” you scoff, arranging the bills into slim white envelopes and then licking them shut. “He’s just an… acquired taste.”

“Sure, his jizz probably tastes like prohibition-era booze–”

“What the fuck,” you wheeze, hands going out to brace yourself on the closest display case. Your head dips as your chest shakes with laughter.

Liz stays completely straight-faced as she continues, “You’ll have to have 911 on speed dial because if you clench, his heart’s giving out.”

“It is not,” you say, voice still strained with the laughs that won’t stop punching out of you.

She puts her hands up in defense and crosses her legs at the ankles. “Hey, it’s not my fault you like playing whac-a-mole with Great Depression dick.”

“Liz!” You playfully shove her off of the counter, thrusting the envelopes into her hands. “You’re nasty. Fucking nasty.”

She splays a wounded hand over her heart, fanning herself with the envelopes. “You know you love me.” She slips into the office behind the register. You hear the click of the safe before she calls over her shoulder, “Any particular reason you’re fantasizing on the clock?”

“Not fantasizing,” you refute. Liz pops out of the back with a uncertain look scrawled on her face. “My dad talked him into picking me up today so I don’t drive into a snowbank.”

“Sounds like the beginning of a shitty porno.”

“Don’t give me hope.”

“I’m just saying,” she grins. “You can still come to mine. Only a five minute walk with zero chance of rejection.”

“You have such little faith in me.”

She purses her lips. “Mkay…. Pro-tip: Keith probably has some Viagra sitting around in his desk drawers.”

“Liiiiiiiz,” you say. You’re about to tune her out completely when familiar headlights light up the wet asphalt, beaming through the windows. The engine idles, a soft rumble through the linoleum floors. The truck lights dim, leaving Joel in the buttery shine of the streetlamp. His thick arms stretch across the wheel, and he rakes one large hand through his hair. “Shit, speak of the Devil.” You clip off your nametag, tossing it into your half-open bag. “Can you finish closing tonight? I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“No problem, no favors necessary.” She closes the register. You fumble to get your bag over your shoulder, not wanting to keep Joel waiting. “Use protection!” she calls after you, and you make sure to flip her off one more time as the door clangs shut behind you.

A wall of cold hits you like a blade of lightning. Wind unfurls, mauling telephone lines and frosted treetops, rippling your jacket. Not even the worn scarf around your neck seems to be doing its job. Suddenly, every one of your limbs feels like an icicle. Joints almost freezing up, you half-jog, half-penguin strut your way to Joel’s passenger side. You wipe the ice off of the door handle with your sleeve. A few stray flurries dust you as you tug the door open, exhaling in relief as you haul yourself onto the side steps and into the toasty warmth of the Ford F150.

You cozy up in the seat, too preoccupied by thawing your hands with long, winded breaths to notice the affronted look Joel is throwing your way. “Are you tryin’ to catch your fuckin’ death, girl?”

“No death to catch. It’s not that cold.” The way you’re shivering says otherwise. Joel pins you with the raise of his brow.

Before you know what he’s doing, he’s groaning as he reaches over the center console into the backseat. You see a flash of his trucker jacket before it lands in your lap, flannel-lined and heavy. You use it like a blanket, draping it across your torso and wrestling your hands into the inside pockets. The canvas smells like car exhaust and off-brand Dollar General deodorant, two things that are so inextricably Joel. As much as you hate to admit it, the warmth is already inking its way across your skin – or maybe it’s just being next to Joel that’s heating you up. “Thanks,” you grumble.

When you adjust in your seat, the inside of your foot catches an empty Dr. Pepper can on the floor. It rattles when you accidentally kick it forward. You lean down and pick it up, going to place it down in the cupholder, only to find it overpopulated with random Home Depot and Whataburger receipts.

“Tax deductions,” he shrugs. “Gotta eat on the job.”

“And a…” You pick up the receipt and squint at the faded typography. “$3.29 strawberry milkshake is part of that, I figure?”

Joel grunts, “Tommy’s order.”

You smirk. “Sure it is.”

“Quit shit stirrin’ and put on your fuckin’ seatbelt.”

You reach back, fingers snagging it and tugging it down. Groping for the belt between the seats and the center console, it goes on for at least five seconds too long before Joel grabs the buckle and shoves it into the slot. His fingers brush your thigh as he pulls away from you and settles his foot over the gas pedal. The singular touch shouldn’t make butterflies beat at the walls of your stomach, but it does. Everything about him does.

Now that you’re all settled in, everything about him is also settling in. The fact that he’s only wearing a tight-fitting white t-shirt now that his coat is off. His sleeves are constricting enough that his muscles bulge below the strip of fabric. Ample scruff dapples his jawline, and his hair is disheveled in the way that you’ve learned you like it. You trail your eyes down his body, his tummy, across the undone drawstrings of his dark gray sweatpants, and no, you move on quickly from there, because you refuse to get riled up in the passenger seat.

He’s slowly peeling out of Keith’s parking lot, arm thrown over the back of your seat. You’re starting to fail at your mission of not getting riled up when you see the flex of his bicep, the way his eyes meet yours as he turns to look through the back window. He turns out of the parking lot and onto the relatively barren, icy streets–

“What the hell are those?”

Joel side-eyes you, brows furrowed. He follows the line of your gaze to his feet, which you’re used to seeing in New Balances or steel-toed work boots, but are instead wearing… fur-lined crocs.

“These here? Yeah, got ‘em recently, good for my days off with all this nippy weather. Sarah told me they’re ‘all the rage’ with the youth–”

You can’t help it. You damn near double over with laughter, clutching at your stomach. Joel’s coat nearly slides off of you, but you hang onto it with your pinkie finger, quickly going dizzy from lack of air. “‘All the rage’? Oh my fucking God– Joel, she was pulling your leg. Those are fucking hideous.”

“Hey, now–” He sighs, pinching his nose bridge with the hand that isn’t dangling over the wheel. “Zip it, I don’t needa justify my shoe choices to ya.”

“Does she do anything other than give you shit these days?”

“You’re one to talk about givin’ shit, y’know,” Joel says. Unfailingly, he smiles. The smile that pulls at the edges of his lips. The smile that he only ever gets when talking about Sarah. It doesn’t matter where – loading up his plate with barbecue, your dad asking him while he’s picking up junk mail in the morning, or on the job. If someone asks him about his daughter, Joel fucking beams.

He sucks on his teeth for a second, and then, “She’s picked up soccer. Goalkeeper. Damn good at it, too, all them other kids on her team can’t match her collapse dive.”

“Of course they can’t,” you say. “She’s got better reflexes than a house fly.”

Joel hunches over the wheel, effectively ending the conversation as he concentrates on the road. The only noise is the rumbling engine and the wagging of the windshield wipers as he attempts to navigate the black ice polka-dotted roads. It shouldn’t be as arousing as it is, seeing him in such a state of focus, his thighs tensed as he manipulates the gas and brakes to stop early, start slow. His arms thickening when he makes a right turn. Thumbs drumming drumming drumming on the wheel and maybe they’d do the same between your legs—

“So how’s work?” you blurt out.

Joel mumbles something that you can’t quite make out.

“Huh?”

“Fuckin’ ‘big shot’ gringos up my ass all day. Goddamn shitshow.” He shakes his head, his lips thinned. “I tell ‘em terraforming is gonna make it look like a Flinstone-owned-and-operated putt-putt course. They say do it anyway. I tell ‘em that orderin’ custom windows is gonna put us months behind. They say do it anyway, then come up jibber-jabberin’ all ‘bout how long it’s takin’. And it’s fuckin’... window madness, not one window in that hellhole matches another. Ain’t had so much trouble buildin’ a house since Sarah had me build her one from Hobby Lobby when she was little. Their architect musta been doin’ lines.”

You think you’ve seen Sarah’s dollhouse before when visiting, just in passing when the guest bedroom door was left open a smidge. You remember stalling in the hallway to look at it, with a fleece of dust growing on the tediously placed shingles and the oakwood front door left open like it’d been waiting for someone to come home. But Sarah outgrew it, and although Joel would never admit it, you know he’s too sentimental to leave it on the curb.

“How bad can building a dollhouse from a kit be?”

“With a five year old yellin’ like a drill sergeant in your ear? Worse than you think. She even made me rig the damn thing with electric so she could have her pink chandelier.”

You pout at him, “Wah wah, I’ll bet you loved it.”

“Was a nuisance at the time. But, uh, she was fiddlin’ with some ‘a the dolls I’d gotten her. Don’t think she knew I was watchin’, had gone to put ‘er to bed ‘cause it was a school night. She was readin’ this book I always read to her. Something about… a stuffed bear with a missin’ button and a girl that was tryna to buy him. I don’t fuckin’ know–” “Corduroy?”

“Yeah, that. Anyway, she was reading, usin’ the same tone I always used with her, tucked her dolls in for the night, and switched off the lights. I don’t think I loved it until then.” There’s a glistening in his eyes at the memory.

You smirk, “Sentimental bastard–”

The truck slides. Or maybe it coasts, skimming across the thin film of black ice. Joel eases down on the brakes, hauling to a stop next to a Minivan with its warning lights on. It’s a long stretch, and you can’t even see all the way down the highway with how thick the snow is. No two snowflakes are the same, but you find it difficult to believe when you’re looking at what must be millions of them. They pirouette, landing on window panes, rooftops, and wind-agonized tree branches. Everything is blotted with white. Red warning lights glare on the ice back at you.

“Shiiit,” Joel says as he squints at the road ahead of him. He scratches at his scruff.

“Tell me you’re not going to drive through that shit.”

“I’m not,” he says.

“Then how the fuck are we getting home?”

“Chill it–” “That’s the last thing I need to do,” you huff.

“I’m takin’ the detour.”

With that, he jerks the wheel — a bit too recklessly considering the weather, in your opinion – and pulls off onto a slippery backroad. The snow seems to have clung to the trees more back here, a sort of incandescent saran wrap over the oaks. At a bend in the road, icicles hang from a yellow sign that says CURVE 30 MPH. Joel takes it at ten.

You’re not checking out his hands while he drives, no, of course not. You’re looking at the gazillion lights on his dashboard display. “You usually have that many lights on?”

“Ain’t your truck, ain’t your business.”

“I’m ridin’ in it, ain’t I?” you mock his accent.

Joel sighs heavily. “Drivin’ me up the fuckin’ wall.” His hands clench briefly around the wheel. “Auto repair shop’s been price gouging, I’m tryin’ to get Tommy to hook me up with his buddy in San Anton–”

“Won’t be able to drive to San Antonio if your bumper falls off halfway there.”

Joel’s voice is dry as bone. “Ha ha. You get off on bein’ a smartass?”

It’s three words – that’s all it is. Just a throwaway phrase that he probably doesn’t even realize he said. If it were anything more, you’d know. But Joel, saying those words in that order? Damn him, because it turns your blood effervescent. You stop yourself from rubbing your thighs together underneath his coat. You’re about to make another quip that’ll not only distract you, but also surely drive Joel up the wall, one of your favorite activities.

His truck putters from ten miles per hour to eight.

Eight to six.

Six to four.

“Motherfuckin’.... shit,” Joel says again, this time much more urgent as he wrests the wheel to the side. The truck skims over the frosted roads and onto the shoulder, rolls for two seconds, and then falls to a complete, utter stop. The windshield wipers pause while they’re still up. Heat no longer spits out of the dusty air vents.

It’s the loudest silence you’ve ever been in.

“...So do you get off on letting your truck break down or–”

Joel sighs in the way that dogs do. “Thin ice, missy.” He unbuckles his seatbelt and pulls out his phone. “I’ll give Tommy a call.” He stares at the screen for ten seconds. Taps it. Shakes it.

“No service?” you ask.

“No service.”

“Let me try mine,” you mumble, shifting in the car seat. Sure enough, zero bars. Even though you know it won’t work, you press your dad’s contact. It goes straight to voicemail. “Well, shit.”

“Shit,” Joel echoes.

It’s unspoken, but you both know the harsh reality of this harsh wintry night: no phone service, no operational truck, and… no heater.

“Hang tight,” Joel says, reaching over the center console and hijacking his coat from your lap. He wrestles his arms through the sleeves and zips it up. He shoves the door open against the hoarse wind that keeps the trees at a slant, hops out, then slams it shut hard enough for the vehicle to rock. From how hard the wind was blowing, stray flurries dust the truck’s interior.

You can’t really see what he’s doing – the snow’s too heavy, the hood popped wide open for him to investigate the truck’s viscera. You run your hands up and down your thighs, already feeling cold. Without the heater, it won’t be much longer before you turn to an icicle in the passenger seat. The hood bangs back down.

Joel climbs in from the backseat, slams the door as hard as humanly possible, and then scoots to the middle seat.

You crane your neck to see him as he shakes out his cold-reddened hands before puffing air into his cupped palms. “What’s wrong with it?” You ask.

He lets out a frigid breath. “Don’t fuckin’ know, snowin’ too damn hard to tell.”

“Ten bucks it was one of the lights on your dash,” you say.

Joel glares at you, still huffing into his hands. His fingertips are bright red to match his ruddy cheeks. Snow is sprinkled through his hair like soot, quickly melting to beads of water on his windblown curls.

“Got some… hand warmers up in that glovebox. Grab the whole pack.”

You lean forward, kneeing it open and rifling through all of his shit. Insurance papers, more receipts, Miller Contracting business cards, a folded pocket knife, lens wipes, and –

“When’s the last time these saw daylight?” you huff out a laugh as you hold up a battered box of condoms.

Turns out, snow isn’t the thing that makes Joel Miller redder than a tomato. It’s the fifteen year old, very expired condoms hiding in his glovebox.

He clears his throat and averts his eyes. “Jesus. Forgot those were in there.”

You shake the box around and pluck a condom out of it. Looking for the expiration date, you turn it over and over in your hand. “August 31st, 2004. Really that long since you got some, Miller?”

“Put ‘em back,” he grumbles. “Pain in my ass.”

You snicker, replacing the condom box with the box of hand warmers. They’re unopened, still sealed. You snatch Joel’s keys out of the ignition and swipe them across the tape. “Happy?” you toss them over your shoulder.

“No.” He tears open the pack and rubs his hands together around the warmer, sighing when it begins to heat.

“Dick,” you grumble.

More tearing. “Brat.” Another warmer lands in your lap.

“Oughta get comfortable. We’re gonna be here a while,” Joel says.

“And whose fault is that?” You ask as you weigh the warmer in your palms. The front seat already feels cramped, and you’re quick to unbuckle your seatbelt. Your legs and arms fold like pretzels as you climb into the backseat. The curse that leaves you when you hit your head on the roof has Joel rolling his eyes.

“Pipe down. First thing in the mornin’ I’ll make the walk out to that country club a mile out and use their phone. Just gotta ride out the night. You ain’t ever roughed it before?”

You fall on all fours on the backseat, finally pulling yourself upright next to him. “Never had a reason to. Like, what if I have to piss? What if I get hungry?”

Joel shrugs. “Tough.”

The cold is starting to settle into your bones. Even your tongue feels popsicle numb, and your fingers are stiff where they wrap around the warmer. It’s like you’ve been trapped in a snowglobe and shaken up by a handsy toddler with how the wind rattles the truck and the snow swishes outside. You suppress a shiver, leaning against the door. Condensation is already building on the windows. Absent-mindedly, you begin to trace a portrait of Joel in the moisture. Your fingertip squeaks against the glass. Your masterpiece wouldn’t be complete without his signature scowl, so you’re sure to paint a frown on his face and his forehead wrinkles on thick.

“Didn’t know you were an artist,” Joel comments from the opposite side of the back. “Looks nothin’ like me, by the way.”

You smirk, “But you knew it was you.”

Because there’s nothing better to do than burn time, you spend the next ten minutes filling up the window with whatever nonsense doodles come to mind — hearts, stars, trees, and of course, the only one that Joel seems to be fond of: Sarah, smiling and curly-haired.

Reality only settles in when you’re done with the ephemeral illustrations, their outlines starting to dissolve back to regular droplets that streak down the windows. You’re stuck, for God knows how long, on this shady backroad that the Zodiac Killer would’ve loved during his heyday. With your dad’s best friend that you’ve been harboring a dangerous crush on.

And it’d be impossible to forget that it’s freezing fucking balls.

“Joel?” you say into the dark truck.

“Hm?”

Always one to speak your mind, you say, “It’s freezing fucking balls.”

A sound that might be a laugh leaves him. “Here,” Joel says, unzipping his jacket. He tosses it over to you, and you snuggle back up with it, nose burrowing into one of the creases in the fabric. His coat smells like him – like cheap body wash, chewing gum, and gasoline.

You try putting your hands in the pockets, even going as far as to open up a new hand warmer for each one, but they’re full of loose change and, expectedly, more receipts. When you curl up against the corner between the door and the seat, the hard plastic bites into your oversensitive back. Sitting upright or cross-legged doesn’t work, and when you test drive sitting diagonally with your feet propped up on the console, Joel makes a disproving noise and swats gently at your shin. You prop your forehead up against the window, but it’s cold enough to give you a brain freeze.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel snorts. “Get over ‘ere, you wuss.” He hauls you over, big hand splayed over your waist, and drags you across the bench to his side. You yelp in surprise, but only for a second before you’re crushed against Joel’s side. “Can’t have ya gettin�� hypothermia,” he jests.

You don’t know where to put your hands, but eventually, you settle on cupping his neck. Touching Joel, hell, even just being near him, is like being by an open furnace. Or maybe the heat is just your stomach doing somersaults at being this close to Joel after years of frivolous pining. His nape emanates warmth, the kind that flows down your arms and wraps comfortingly around your chest.

Joel exhales, the tendrils of his breath curling from the frigidity. He grabs his coat from the side and flattens it over the both of you, a piss poor replacement for a blanket, but all you’ve got.

Still, cold seeps in through the cracks in the doors, spoiling whatever lukewarm air remains. It doesn’t help that Joel had hopped in and out of the truck to play eye spy under the hood. The truck struggles to hold onto heat properly, especially when it isn’t producing more of it.

Joel sort of… flickers against your back. You think nothing of it until it happens again, this time in short bursts, and then turns into full on shivering.

“Who’s the wuss now, old man?”

Joel tenses up behind you. “Funny,” he says. With your hands cushioned against his neck, you feel the grate of his voice in his throat. “This is the best you’re gonna get unless you wanna be butt ass naked to share heat.”

It should be a joke. But the way he says it… doesn’t sound like a joke.

You go still, lifeless, not even sure if you’re shaking anymore. Because now, the only thought in your head is being pressed against Joel, his soft cock hardening against you, his palms splayed and rubbing over your stomach to keep you warm. And if his cock needed to get somewhere warmer, too…. Your clit twitches at the thought.

You smother the initial shock in your voice with your usual solution: sass. “So what, we’re gonna fuckin’ huddle for warmth?”

As much as you enjoy the idea, you're already dripping — and that’s just from your body being pressed against his, breathing the same air as him, closer now than you’ve ever been before. With no panties in the way, it’s not a stretch to say you’d be dripping down his thighs. You’d hate to have that conversation.

“Would you rather freeze to death?” Joel asks. You look up at him from where you’re curled into his side and find no gleam in his eyes. This isn’t just some knee-slapper for him. Joel Miller is being completely, irreversibly serious.

“I’d rather something less like Naked and Afraid, Joel!”

“It works,” he says, nose flaring. “They do it in those fuckin’... action movies all ‘a the time.”

“I didn’t know Hollywood was writing survival manuals for pervs–”

“God, you’re a piece ‘a work, ya know that?” His eyes flick down to you, and maybe it’s just the fact that this road is damn near pitch black, but his pupils seem larger than before. “Listen, I ain’t tryna perv on ya. I also ain’t tryna send you back to your old man with four fingers missin’ from frostbite.”

There’s no way you’re actually seriously considering this. You’ve heard of cold temperatures impairing thinking, but not like this. Your dad’ll go chasing after Joel with a pitchfork and a shovel if he finds out the man who was supposed to get you home safe and sound was cuddling naked with you. Cuddling naked with you in the backseat, no less. You’re certain Joel won’t try anything – he’s not like that. No matter how flustered you get in his lap, he’d never take advantage of you. What you aren’t certain of is your ability to stop yourself from asking him t0 take advantage of you.

This is practical. It’s only supposed to be practical. He wouldn’t be suggesting something this drastic if you both weren’t shaking like a rattlesnake’s rattler.

“Fine,” you say, already unwinding your scarf from around your neck. Determined to keep some semblance of boundaries up, you add, “No peeping, Miller.”

Joel makes an exasperated sound as you once again scoot out from his coat and across the bench, working yourself out of your shoes, your cotton zip-up, and then the stiff Keith’s uniform – a blue polo and jeans. Joel’s eyes are respectfully trained on the truck’s floor mats, which you’re only just now noticing has a sun-bleached Lisa Frank sticker tacked onto it.

Down to your bra and panties, your heart rate picks up. Your fingers are so fucking cold that it’s hard to get your bra straps out of the way so you can unclasp the damned thing, and then it falls to the floor. Your nipples harden in the face of the cold. The only thing you keep is your scarf, which do you do your best to cover your tits with. Scooping up your discarded clothes and tossing them to the front seat, you let out a shaky breath.

Fuck it.

You shimmy out of your panties and get rid of them just as quickly. When you try telling Joel you’re decent, or rather indecent, nothing comes out. Instead, you have to clear your throat with a strained, “All good.”

“Alright,” Joel says, rustling around. You hear his crocs scrape against the mat, and then his shirt swishing over his head.

He doesn’t tell you to look away, but since it’s implied, you look out of the window. The snowy trees tremble in the wind, and you almost wince when you see a small sliver of his tanned skin reflected in the glass. His crocs clunk on the ground when he kicks them off, and you watch his criminally tight t-shirt go flying over the passenger seat. You casually grip the Jesus handle, hoping that Joel doesn’t notice your fist tightening around it when you hear him untying the drawstrings of his sweatpants. When his sweats and boxers follow the path of his shirt, breathing gets a lot harder than you remember it being.

Just an hour ago, you’d been certain that this would be nothing more than a ten minute drive. Maybe, if you were lucky, he’d call you a casual pet name that would fuel the wriggling of your hand between your thighs that night.

The tension in the air is thicker than molasses. Each breath you take is fragile.

“I’m ready when you are,” Joel says.

Since you’re already half-naked, and since chickening out is out of the question, you inch over to Joel’s side. The air tumbles out of your lungs in one fell swoop when your bicep meets his. With some fidgeting, you bring your legs up at an angle beneath you, wrapping around his side in a way that has you feeling a little bit like a koala. You talk yourself into keeping your eyes forward and then scrub your palms across your freezing arms.

Joel, more indifferent than you think anyone else in this situation could be, abruptly casts his coat back over the both of you.

And, fuck him, he’d been right. The engulfing canvas of his coat keeps warmth trapped where it can be passed easily between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just being confined and skin-to-skin with Joel that has you heating up.

The silence is cruel – it’s much harder to make conversation about work or dollhouses or whatever the hell else when you’re naked. Only the wind’s sibilance keeps you company.

You can get used to this, you think. Drift off into a somewhat sound sleep with your head on Joel’s shoulder and hope that you don’t drool all over him or moan his name in your sleep. More embarrassing things have happened to you.

But then, as if you’re the unluckiest person alive, the temperature drops even more, and suddenly, you’re shaking like a leaf all over again. Your teeth almost clack together as you try to stammer out to Joel, “C–cold, Jesus fucking… Christ that’s cold.”

Joel pouts down at you, but you don’t miss the way his lip quivers. “Should I call the wambulance?”

“Should I call the r–r–r–retirement home to pi…pick up a ru–runaway resident?” It sounded a lot better in your head than bouncing off of your frozen tongue, you have to admit.

“Drama queen,” Joel mutters into your ear. “Can’t do anythin’ more about it. Sorry–”

“Can I sit on your lap?” you blurt out so quickly that you don’t even have time to think about it. You grimace, partially covering your face with your hands. Shit.

Joel’s eyes widen. “Excuse me?”

You’re already half doomed. Why not go all the way? “Listen, it’s just fucking… fucking freezing, Joel. Holy shit.”

“That bad?” he chokes out.

“You’d be warmer than the seats,” you defend. “I’ll be careful, I promise. Best behavior.”

Joel seems to ponder it for a moment, brows stitched together while he looks down at you from where you’re furled up against his side. He gnaws on the inside of his cheek before giving you a slight nod. “Alright.” You nod in return, heart in your throat. “–But you better mean it when you say best behavior. Can’t have any ‘a this shit gettin’ back to your dad.”

Another nod. You hold your breath as you shinny your way onto Joel’s lap, mounting him from the front so his chest hits your back. In your attempt to get comfortable, you bracket your legs around his. His soft cock fits at the small of your back, and even though he’s as flaccid as can be, he’s big. Apparently your imagination isn’t too far off. Joel’s sharp intake of breath forms a pit in your stomach, and you know when you’re warming up for an entirely different reason than close proximity, you also know that you need to calm yourself down. Fast.

Think of something awful. Like that time that you had to dissect cow eyes in sophomore year biology. Think about mold. How many murderers you’ll walk by in your lifetime. Expired leftovers. Anything–

You adjust yourself in an attempt to get away from Joel’s cock. Instead, your hips move just so his cock slips between your thighs and bobs against your slit.

You whine.

Your body immediately locks up once you realize what you’ve done. Crawling out of the truck to die a hypothermia-induced death seems like a much kinder fate than facing Joel, but no matter how much you scream at yourself to reach out and unlock the door, your hands refuse to move. You hadn’t noticed how wet you’d gotten, and you have no idea how. It’s smeared across your thighs, and now pressed up against your back after Joel’s dick had dragged through it all.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit–

Chancing a look over your shoulder, you’re surprised to find the tips of Joel’s ears flushed, cheeks cherry ripe. His Adam’s apple bobs when you meet his eyes. Holy fuck.

You’ve flustered him.

For some reason, the thought makes your chest a lot lighter. You look away nonetheless, but this time, with a newfound gleam in your eye. There’s no such thing as a bad accident, right?

Maybe Liz was right about having to call 911, because when you ‘accidentally’ repeat the movement, Joel stops breathing all together. His cock, almost hard now, you’ve noticed, bumps against your clit. You almost swallow your tongue trying to keep your moan down.

“The fuck you think you’re doin’?” he asks, his gruff voice scratching at your ears.

“I didn’t mean to,” you lie straight through your teeth, a smug little grin spreading on your face. Something about his semi-hard cock between your bodies tells you he’s going to say no to your next suggestion. “Maybe you should put the coat between us, instea–”

“Are you outta your fuckin’ mind, girl?” Joel’s voice comes out raspy. He shakes his head, clears his throat. The vibrations rumble up your spine. “And take away the whole point of stayin’ warm? Now quit it. Ain’t that hard to sit still.”

You try your hand at listening – for all of two seconds.

You hike your hips up, fumbling with his coat as you slot his cock against your slit once more, pushing yourself forward. The coat slides right off of you, falling in a dark lump on the floor. Neither of you care — you’re both too heated for the lack of cover to make a damn difference. Joel hisses, a sound like water hitting an open flame. His hands fly down to your waist, anchoring you to his lap. A surprised noise squeaks out of you.

“What, you got rocks rattlin’ around in your brain?” Joel scowls. “You’re real impolite for a cocktease, sweetheart.”

Butterflies flap around in your stomach from his words. It’s enough to make your head tip against his chest so you can look up at him, lips shaped in a perfect pout. “I’m not,” you say.

“Not a cocktease, huh? Not even when you’re rubbin’ all over my lap?”

You gasp as your hands fly down to cover Joel’s, nails etching into where his fingers meet your bare skin. You tug at his wrist, trying desperately to guide him where you so desperately need him.

“Not happenin’,” Joel grunts, yanking your hands behind you and pinning them to your waist like you’re nothing more than a poseable doll. His large, work-worn hands make yours look damn near miniature as he holds you down. The sudden roughness douses your inner thighs with a new wave of wetness. “Jesus, girl. Poor thing, gettin’ all hot and bothered. Don’t blame ya for tryna get me to help out. Can feel ya dripping down my legs, gushin’ like a sprinkler.”

“S–sorry, fuck, ‘m sorry,” you whisper, words sticky with your arousal. Your clit twitches from his words, embarrassment and need doing all the work to keep you warm.

“Nahhh,” he says. “I don’t think you are, baby.” Maybe it’s the condescension he’s purring in your ear, maybe it’s the pet name; most likely, it’s a combination of both that has you convulsing in his lap. It’s like he’s found all of the right buttons to press to get you riled up, getting you back for all of your snide comments earlier.

His fingers find the fabric of your scarf, luring it off of your neck so he can cord it around your wrists. You squirm when you realize what he’s doing, and a breathless huff of his laughter brushes your cheek. “I’ll be damned if you ain’t gonna be, though.” He draws it tight, tight enough for you to feel your pulses bumping into each other. Joel leaves a fair amount of your unreasonably long scarf loose.

“Joel, what the fuck are you up to?”

“Teachin’ you some sweet southern belle etiquette, darlin’. Such a goddamn troublemaker, grindin’ on me like I’m some kinda… frat boy.” He shakes his head, disbelieving. “Pullin’ that shit with your pops’ friend. Real fuckin’ classy.”

“Like you’re so different. Who’s the one that’s tying me up? Huh, Mil–”

You hear the hit well before you feel it, a firm whack to your cunt that makes your vision blacken and electricity scurrying up your spine. It takes you a second to come back to yourself before a ragged cry pulls its way out of your lips. You jolt in his lap, bound arms bobbing in front of you as your body instinctively lurches for control. You damn near kick your feet, accidentally ricocheting yourself into Joel’s chest. His forearms hold you there.

“Guess I’ll make it crystal clear for ya, baby, since that dumb lil’ head ‘a yours is havin’ some trouble. My truck, my rules. You’re ridin’ in it, ain’t you?” You nod reluctantly as he turns your words from earlier in his favor. “That was a warnin’, you showoff. Think you can bat your slutty ‘fuck me’ eyes an’ get away with murder.” He fucking tsks at you.

He pulls his hand away from your pussy, and you’re both surprised and not surprised at all to see it covered in your arousal, webbed between his calloused fingers.

“Got a whole goddamn slip ‘n slide down here…” murmurs Joel. You whine, bucking your hips against him. “Oughta just…” he starts, nudging his cock towards your hole. The noise you make is pathetic. “Stop ya from ruinin’ my seats. Cork you right up.” You tense up, fully expecting the intrusion, but his dick passes your cunt right up, instead sliding up to meet your clit. It taps against your swollen nub, and if his goal was to stop you from ruining his seats, you’re certain he’s already failed with how quickly you gush all over the upholstery.

“But that’d be real nice, wouldn’t it? Givin’ ya what ya want so early on…” Instead of pulling away like you expect, Joel griiiinds the head of his cock against your clit. You moan helplessly, head falling back across his shoulder.

And then he does it again.

And again.

And agai–

“Joooooel,” you whine, knees jerking each time his tip meets your most sensitive spot. Heat spins in your stomach.

He backs his hips up “What? Thought you loved this with how much you were gettin’ at it earlier.”

You shake your head rapidly in the negative, chest rising and falling at a breakneck pace while he teases you.

“So you can deal, but you can’t play?”

“I think you’re just taking your sweet old time getting it up, old man,” you grit out, knowing damn well he’s stiffer than titanium behind you.

Joel hums. “Ah, she’s got jokes.” His cock slips back, quickly replaced by his hand engulfing your mound. Your clit twitches ever so slightly against his palm lines, and you’re almost convinced you could get off from that alone. His palm cracks against your cunt again, somehow even harder than the first time. You cry out, eyes burning from arousal and the slightest edge of pain.

With his thumbpad, he taps your clit like he’s just scrolling through the cable guide with a remote. Fleeting movements that have you wanting more more more. It heals the sting of his slap even if the echo of the hit still simmers in your stomach. Your cunt throbs so hard that it hurts, jumping up to meet Joel’s scarce ministrations.

When he retracts his hand, your hips chase the movement. “See this?” he taunts, fluttering his wet fingers in front of your face. You make a choked noise when his drenched middle finger breaches your lips. He doesn’t even need to tell you; you latch on and suck yourself off of his calloused skin. You’re mostly salty, but a little sweet, and tasting yourself on your own tongue by his insistence manages to make you even wetter.

Joel takes his spare fingers, just as soaked, and smears them all around your chin and lower cheeks. He presses down on your tongue as he does. You gag from the pressure, and you can’t hear his laugh over the roaring of your blood in your ears, but you feel it rattle his chest where it meets your spine. Your slick cools quickly against your burning skin, syrupy as it clings to your face. “Need a bib, baby?”

He pulls his finger from your mouth with a pop and your scarf-wrapped hands spring to wipe yourself from your lips, hoping to save yourself from the humiliation of having your own pussy juice anointing your face. You only scoop up a little before Joel lowers his forearm over yours, but for once, you’re faster than him. You swipe your wet hand over his mouth, smudging as much as you can along the scruff surrounding his mouth.

He wraps a burly hand in the scarf and yanks your hands back into place. All you can do in response is giggle, but the breath is swiftly knocked out of you when he drives his cock right into your clit. “Think you’re funny, don’t ya?” He asks, and finally grunts as he rolls his hip into you. A break in his resolve, a sign that he wants this, or at least the discipline of this, as badly as you do.

You almost weep from the pressure, that rope of pleasure in your stomach that he keeps knotting tighter and tighter and tighter with each stroke of his cock, his fingers. “Joel!” you cry out as he follows it up with another firm swat to your clit. His cock spreads your folds as he softens the bashing, nuzzling his tip against your spasming cunt.

“Really, oughta give standup a go one ‘a these days. Be a real hotshot.”

“Oh yeah?” you pant, light headed and woozy.

“Mhm. If the whole crowd’s drunk.” His cock nudges your nub with a new vigor.

“Assh–”

Right as you’re about to press down and follow the sensation, Joel senses it. His cock gives way through your cheeks, just in time for him to land a ruthless slap across your pussy. It’s harder than the others – makes your ears ring for a second, gives you a sort of visual snow that has you doubling over and gripping at the closest object for purchase, which just so happens to be the metal rods coming out of the headrest.

“Ain’t what you should be sayin’ if you’re plannin’ on gettin’ what you want, sugar,” Joel tuts. He shakes his head at you. “Don’t wanna hear no lip from ya, girl.”

You open your mouth, argument on the tip of your drool-loaded tongue, but your halfhearted attempt at defiance doesn’t last long. Joel’s hand clamps around your chin, denting your skin into your teeth. He jerks your head to face him, knocking you down a peg with scathing eye contact. “You’re pushin’ it.” He loosens his grip.

“As if, Miller. If those pre-Cold War condoms are anything to go by, you’ve been dying for a chance to get your dick wet. Doesn’t matter how much lip I give you, you aren’t gonna blue ball yourself for much longer.” Satisfied, you raise your brows at him.

Turns out, he is going to blue ball himself for much longer, because he lands six slaps in rapid succession across your sopping cunt. The skin smarts, and you cry out. Your grip tightens around the headrest rod to the point of strangling it. Your eyes water, and you can’t tell if you’re crying. Too consumed by Joel, everything has melted into him – the smell of sawdust perpetually sewn into his skin, his cock sealed against your body.

“How many times are ya gonna poke the bear before you learn your lesson, you cheeky little shit?” Joel’s palm cups the inside of your right thigh, just above the knee. He traces circles with his thumb, and heat trails after him with everywhere he touches. “See, the thing about havin’ ‘pre-Cold War condoms’ is that I’ve had a helluva lot more time to learn self control than you. Can wait as loooooong as it takes for you to get your head on right. Don’t matter if you’re waterfallin’ down my seats or not, pretty girl. I’m giving you exactly what ya deserve.”

You whimper, trying (and failing) to get your magma hot core closer to Joel’s unfairly large hand, still splayed out on your inner thigh. You can’t stop how you squirm in his lap, smearing your arousal everywhere with each movement you make.

At a snail’s pace, his hand begins to inch up your leg. Joel pauses to grope at you as his hand travels upward. Handfuls of your skin, rubbing at your scalding hot thighs. Your patience is wearing thin by the time he gets midway there. You need him to touch you. And that’s just the tip of this impossibly destructive iceberg.

You shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t have let him go down this shitty backroad, shouldn’t have agreed to your dad’s ridiculous idea of Joel picking you up, shouldn’t have asked to be naked on his lap, shouldn’t have gotten naked on his lap, shouldn’t be leaking like a twenty-year-old pipe in a building he’d been hired to renovate. If your dad ever finds out–

“Joel, please, please – plea…” you trail off, dissolving into incoherent whimpers as his hand hovers over your cunt. You’re running hotter than a radiator now, and if you both wanted to be warm, then you’ve got your wish. Although mostly gibberish, Joel has to understand what you want from him. It’s just that the bastard is unwilling to provide.

Joel reaches down to pinch your clit, and your body can’t even discern from pleasure and pain anymore. You react the same to it all, back arching as you try desperately to plant yourself on his cock. “Shhh, shhh, quit runnin’ your filthy mouth. Only gonna get yourself into more trouble.”

You swear you hear angels singing, swear you see the pearly gates when he gives your clit a merciful rub. Melting into him, you exhale shakily.

“See? All nice ‘n quiet when she’s gettin’ what she wants.” You wouldn’t even dream of mouthing off to him now.

“I want – I need…” you gasp out, putty in his hands. Moldable to his liking. Everything you’d pretended not to want.

“Go on,” he coos. “Tell daddy what you need.”

You don’t even hear him say that word. You’re too hooked on begging, begging, begging. “Please – Joel, oh god, please – I need… I need… please please please, fuck, it hurts–”

Joel clicks his tongue. “Nuh uh. Start over. Always such a chatterbox ‘cept for when I need ya to be.”

“Wha…?” you ask, admittedly dazed from the harsh treatment that you’ve come to crave more of.

“Tell daddy what you need,” he repeats, words molasses slow.

You clench, gushing even more all over him. Shit, your next paycheck might have to go to replacing the goddamn seats if you keep up like this.

“D–D… D-” you start stammering out, but you’ve lost autonomy over your body long ago, and apparently that goes for your tongue, too. “Da– Da… pl–”

“Any day now,” he scoffs.

“Daddy!” you spit out all at once. “Please, please, daddy, fuck – fuck me, daddy, please, I want your cock, daddy. Feels so fucking big. Need it daddy, it hurts… please, ngh– daddy!” Tears are burning the corners of your eyes, fueled almost entirely by arousal and partially by frustration. You squirm, cunt crying all over the place.

“M’kay, baby,” he says. Running a hand down your chest and squeezing your nipple on the way down. He slides his hand down your stomach to cup your mound, giving your clit slow, gentle circles. Your hips jump forward, and this time, he doesn’t stop you. “Daddy’s got ya.”

At the first intrusion of his middle finger in your cunt, you jump. It’s a lot compared to what he’s been giving you, but nowhere near enough. A second finger slips inside. He doesn’t have to do much work to stretch you out — you’ve been seeping out of you since you first got on his lap. He’s all too quick thrusting them in and out of you – the messy squelch of your pussy filling the backseat has you burying your chin against your chest, averting your eyes. The heel of his palm bumps persistently at your clit with each shift of his fingers inside of you.

“I know you ain’t a virgin, but you’re soakin’ like one. Too damn cocksure to ain’t have had a cock in ya before. Prancin’ around like a glorified dick trap.” You inhale sharply when his fingers scrape that spongy spot inside of you that you can never reach yourself. A moan rips out of you. The combination of him talking down to you and rubbing your g-spot has you dangerously close to cumming. Your moan is quickly swallowed up by more of Joel’s condescension.

He starts mumbling to himself then, obscenities that make you clench even tighter around his fingers. “Gonna get you all sore baby, make you regret beggin’ for this dick like a horny ‘lil bitch that ain’t ever been laid in her life. Fuck you so hard you’ll be cryin’ for daddy’s cock up your ass instead, turn you into an anal slut, too.” He’s too busy listening to himself talk, too absorbed in his own world to feel you balancing on that razor-thin edge.

The noise you make is inhuman. You pulse around him, doing your best to stave off your impending release. “Daddy–” you warn, but he cuts you off then, too. Joel grinds his cock between your ass cheeks, his precum dripping down your slit to meet your trembling cunt.

“Ever been fucked here before baby?” He swipes his tip along your asshole, and the way you shudder is answer enough for him. “Don’t get all jumpy, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna fuck ya there right now. Be cruisin’ for a bruisin’.” Still, he replaces his tip with his free hand’s thumb, simply rubbing at the ring of muscle. You fidget in his lap without an end-goal. You just want to be close to him, want to take everything he’s willing to give you. His fingers hook just right inside of you. “Would love to be the first to unlock this pretty backdoor. If this tight ‘lil pussy’s anything to go by… Christ. You’d look so pretty squirmin with my cock in your ass, baby–”

“Daddy!” You scream as your orgasm guts you. His fingers and his voice rip your climax right out of you and your cum streams down your inner thighs and Joel’s hand, still smacking against your clit with each thrust. Your cunt spasms around his flexing fingers. He has to fold an arm over your chest to keep you from sliding off his slippery lap entirely.

All the way through the aftershocks that make your limbs quake, Joel holds you upright against his body, still bumping his palm and fingertips against your clit and g-spot. You swear you can feel him smiling against your shoulder.

“Didn’t tell ya you could cum, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, flicking his cum covered finger across your clit. You wince in overstimulation, a whine catching in your throat.

“‘M sorry, daddy,” you pant. His hands go up to

“‘S okay, babygirl. Pretty pussy couldn’t help it when I was talkin’ ‘bout fuckin’ your ass, huh?” His hands rove up your stomach to play with your tits, palming and stroking, getting his hands all over every carnal part of you.

You hum into his bicep, “Mmmm.”

“That’s alright. Don’t mean you’re gettin’ away with a slap on the wrist though. C’mon, up,” he guides with a small slap to your thigh. You adjust, bringing yourself onto your knees so he can enter you from behind. You look down at his sturdy thighs, flexing as he adjusts himself between your legs. He gives you one more teasing thrust through your thighs, poking your oversensitive clit one more time before reaching down to spread your folds.

You moan as he presses against your entrance, and it’s not the best time to have a come to Jesus moment, but – Joel’s size was in no way over exaggerated between your legs. You stiffen in realization, and Joel, attentive as always, notices. He guides your chin to face him and nuzzles his nose up against yours, mouth tracing down to your lips. Your breath mingles, stagnant in the long-forgotten chill. A cushion of softness against all of his spiky edges that showed up tonight. “You’re on top, baby. Take it as slow or as fast as ya want.”

Nodding at the reminder, you find yourself that you don’t want to take it slow. You want to be as sore as he’d promised, want to feel him for days and be reminded of this every time you look at the winter morning’s frost on the shingles outside.

Sinking down over his throbbing length yanks the air out of your lungs as you seat yourself with him bottoming out and going balls deep in your cunt simultaneously. He grunts against you in surprise, softening the blow of your heady moan. “Attagirl,” he huffs into the crease between your neck and shoulder. It’s a stretch, searing up your thighs and to your lower back. You’re brought back to yourself when Joel rolls his hips into you, making the pain liquefy into mind-numbing pleasure. You spend thirty seconds waiting for him to fuck up into you in a way that changes your philosophy around the world, but instead, he’s still and solid inside of you.

“Go on,” Joel coaxes, placing a steady hand just shy of your mound. “Gotta prove you deserve to cum again.” He taps your thigh as if he’s telling you to giddy up, and the shame warms the back of your neck better than any heater ever could.

You whimper. His hands coast up your thighs, squeezing your hips tight before falling to grip the seats below. You’re still weak from your last orgasm, shaky legs struggling to hold yourself up as it is. “Daddy… I can’t…”

“Ain’t no different than fuckin’ y’self on that vibrator or dildo or whatever the fuck’s in your nightstand. Girl like you, gotta have a wimpy ‘lil fucktoy somewhere.” His words make you clench around him, and he groans into your neck. Joel looks up at the front window, now covered in snowflakes. He smirks when he spots the rearview mirror. “Oughta make you watch yourself. Show a pathetic, cockstarved slut what happens when she bites off more than she can chew.” At that, you mewl, grinding yourself down. The chuckle he lets out is lined with cruelty.

Joel pins you to his chest with one burly arm and leans forward with a hash of grunts from effort. He reaches out towards the rearview mirror, lowering it to face the middle seat that you’re both braced on. He sinks back quickly, and it almost gives you whiplash before you make eye contact with yourself. You can see everything. Tremors travel up your legs and into your arms. Your body is getting freezer burn from how cold and hot you are at the same time. Pleasured tears threaten to spill over your waterline. Joel’s smug fucking face as he murmurs endlessly at you.

Your mouth is parted as you take yourself in, truly a pathetic, pretty little picture as you pant. “C’mon,” Joel coaxes, squeezing your ass. “You can do it. Make daddy proud. I’ll even give you a boost.” Joel reaches to your tied hands and quickly undoes the scarf, letting it drop to the floor. You flex your fingers and then reach out for the chairs ahead to get a good grip.

You prop yourself up on your knees, anchoring yourself to the two chairs in front of you. Using a combination of your upper and lower body strength, you rise halfway off of Joel’s cock before your body gives out. His balls slap wetly against your clit. He laughs, still not touching you at all. Your head flops forward as you look down to where the two of you meet, and then at the mirror where his cock is buried deep inside of you. You whine in dismay.

He wasn’t lying when he said he was going to get you sore. You can only moan. It’s pleasure like you’ve never had it before – too much, not enough, painful, so good. “Please, Joel – I can’t… can’t handle it.”

“I’ll decide what you can handle,” he says.

“You’re– you’re so fucking mean,” you rasp.

“Gets you this soaked, baby. Don’t see your pussy complainin’. You love bein’ treated like a piece ‘a meat. Like a little fleshlight for men to fuck.”

You clench, tight. “Ah!” Joel fucking sniggers behind you, but a rush of confidence spills through you at the underlying moan in his throat.

Determined to get what you want, you tighten your grip on the front seats. Haul yourself up, almost so that the tip slips right out, and then collapse back onto Joel’s cock. And, shit, it’s a lot. You doubt you could handle his cock in missionary, but being made to ride him in such a compromising position, sprawled out across his shitty backseat? That’s an entirely different animal, one that you hadn’t expected to have to handle.

You focus on doing just enough to please him and just enough to keep yourself intact. You repeat your movements two or three times, rising and falling. Little moans and whimpers, some pained, some good when he nudges your g-spot just right, slip in and out of you.

“Mmmm, yeah, that’s it. Daddy’s ‘lil wannabe pocket pussy. Doin’ a ‘lil better baby. Keep doin’ that. Jus’ keep doin’ that.”

You’re shaking like a leaf on his cock as you somehow manage to lift yourself another time before fucking back on him. “Daaaddy.” Your lips quiver as you form the word. A single tear runs down your face from overexertion, and he’s quick to wipe it up with his thumb as if it was never there. You look truly whorish and pathetic, just like he’d wanted, bouncing on his cock with the last of the energy you have left in you.

His tip jabs against that goddamn spot again, and you double over on the center console. You take heaving breaths, making eye contact with yourself in the mirror, desperate to please as you attempt to keep humping him with the change in angle. You’re letting out strings of disoriented words, but barely can tell that you’re talking.

“I fuck you dumb already? Slutty little girl. Told ya you were in for it. Ain’t ever had much of a knack for listenin’. Gonna dick you down now, sweet girl.” He drags your legs into the crook of his elbows, holding you upright for him as he shifts to his knees between your legs. Braced on the center console with your pussy settled on his cock, the new angle makes you cry out. You hold yourself up on your elbows, giving shallow rolls of your hips in return as Joel gets settled inside of you.

The first thrust makes your eyes roll back so far that you see black. “Feel good?”

“So… so fu–fucking goo… good daddy,” you whimper into the console, gripping the sides of it just so you have something to hold onto.

“Swallowin’ daddy’s dick whole in this greedy cunt. Goddamn, drippin’ down my fuckin’ balls. Such a masochistic slut, all after a poundin’ from an old man. All up in a tizzy for this cock.”

You moan your agreement, completely submissive to Joel’s wills. You move like a ragdoll for him, letting him yank you back on his cock while he meets you there, thrust for thrust. He pulls out, a small mercy, but when he sheathes himself back inside of you in full, it’s the beginning of a punishing pace.

You don’t even notice yourself drooling all over the console until Joel says something about it. “Droolin’ from two places. Yeah, baby, you needed this. Daddy’s pretty cockslut.” You whine especially loudly when Joel drags you back across the console, damn near fast enough to give your stomach rugburn.

Hands framing your spread legs, Joel hooks them both around his torso, using the leverage to plow into you. You’re boneless beneath him, mouth frozen in silent moans. His hips meet your ass with each shove of his cock in your sloppy cunt, the obscene sound of slap after slap pealing out within the truck. “Damn lucky we’re in the middle of nowhere,” Joel growls on another thrust. “Someone woulda been knockin’ on the window long time ago with how loud you’re bein’.”

“Mmph,” you gasp when Joel tosses one of your legs up and over the passenger seat. You hold yourself there as he digs his fingers into your other thigh, shifting his spare hand to your mound.

“Daddy please please please plea–” you start panting like a broken record, desperate to feel his hand on your clit, which throbs with inattention on the console. You grind frantically on the edge just in case he denies you again.

Joel laughs above you, fully smudging two fingers across your clit in a blur of indescribable pleasure. “Ain’t gonna make ya beg this time. Can’t wait to feel ya creamin’ ‘round me… maybe I’ll make ya lick that up too. Nasty bitch.”

“Joooel, oh fuck, please…” you whine as he continues railing you, this time fiercely tweaking your clit in-time with his movements.

The new position has his thrusts meeting your cervix, and you scream, pleasure corkscrewing through your body. There’s nowhere for all of it to go with how viciously it burns in your stomach – all you can do is take it and whine for him. “Takin’ it real good. See what happens when ya behave? You get this fat cock splittin’ your whore cunt in two, jus’ like you were askin’ for.”

He grips your hip tight, clearly expecting an answer. You slur, “Mhm, daddy!”

Joel rubs faster circles around your clit, spouting filth while he drills your pussy. You can tell he’s chasing his own release, too, hips frantically fucking in and out of you, his cock twitching every single time you clench. You’re burning up as he jackhammers your pussy. Your second orgasm of the night brims low in your stomach, “Come on, baby, know you’re close. Feel this slutty pussy squeezin’ me. You gonna ask permission like a good girl this time, or are ya gonna go back to your defiant little slut self?”

“No, daddy,” you whimper, suspended in thin air over orgasmic bliss. He’s rubbing your clit erratically, doing everything he can to hold you in place. “P-please daddy, can I come?” You practically scream it out.

“Go ahead,” he says. “Come for daddy’s, come allll over daddy’s cock.”

The band snaps. Your back arches, and you feel time stop in the second before you fall slack on the console, spasming from the best orgasm of your fucking life. Your clit feels like there’s fucking pop rocks on it, something that not even your vibrator has ever achieved. “Thank you daddy!” you cry out, repeating it as you lose all feeling in your bones. You hardly have any control over your body anymore – it’s just Joel Joel Joel Joel. Sated and weary, you just lay there, letting Joel fuck into you.

And fuck into you he does – roughly, helping you ride out your orgasm as he pursues his. “That’s my girl,” he says, and you swear that alone could make you cum all over again. “Lettin’ your daddy use this juicy, well-fucked cunt to get his own.” He can’t hold back his moans, that’s how you know he’s close, grunting and gasping as he rocks his hips into yours. His hand lands on your ass in a sharp smack, and your pussy clenches in exactly the way that he expected. He lets out a particularly ragged noise, folding himself over you to nip at your neck and rest his forehead against your shoulder blade. “Daddy’s close, where do ya want me, baby?”

“Tits,” you whine. It’s a miracle you can even get that one word out, but somehow, you manage a few more. “Come on my tits, daddy.”

“Fuck!” Joel shouts, yanking himself over you. You help him roll yourself over and sit up on your elbows, and he jerks himself once, twice, before spraying his load all over your tits with the loudest groan yet. His brows fold together as he cums, eyes drooping and his mouth parted as he takes deep breaths.

You sit there for a handful of heavy minutes, listening to each other’s jagged breathing and the sawtoothed wind outside. You’re both so fucked. Literally, and figuratively. Stuck in the buttfuck middle of nowhere, you with your dad’s proclaimed bestie’s cum drying on your tits, and said bestie staring at you with post-coital puppy dog eyes and your cum all over his balls.

You’re the first to speak up, still winded. “That was… that was good.”

Joel nods mindlessly, tongue swiping out to lick his lips. He beckons you closer, and on trembling legs, you bring yourself to the backseat. You return to your previous position, huddled up and curled next to the door. Joel fumbles around under the back bench for a little until he comes up with a small, sunbleached pack of princess-themed pocket tissues that have to be as old as Sarah is. He dabs at your chest before stuffing them into the closest empty cupholder, and then brings you closer to his chest.

You don’t notice yourself falling asleep when all you can feel is Joel.

There’s better ways to wake up than a furious rapping on the window, but that isn’t the first thing you notice. You blink your eyes open groggily, only to face an egg yolk sun cracking wide open over the treeline and snowmelt bleeding out from every given surface. Joel’s behind you, nose in your neck, snoring softly with his arms wrapped around your middle. You take a moment to admire him – his sun kissed skin and his peaceful expression. It takes you a moment to remember you slept with him. You slept with Joel, and it was the best fuck of your life.

You’re stretching, on the verge of a yawn, when you see the familiar head of black hair over the window. “Shit!” you shout. Joel jerks to life behind you, mumbling something that sounds a lot like ‘what?’.

You scramble to pull the coat over the both of you from where it fell off of you in the middle of the night, covering your naked bodies. “Get dressed!” you hiss to Joel, searching for wherever the fuck your panties ended up last night.

“What the hell’s gotten into ya–” he starts, and you feel the exact moment that he realizes Tommy Miller is outside of the truck. “Motherfucker,” he curses, swaying towards the front seat to snag his clothes. You see him almost put his head through his T-shirt armhole three times before he gets it right. His sweatpants are next, which he tugs up his bare legs without even searching for his boxers.

“Joel?” Tommy shouts outside. “Wake up, sleepin’ beauty!” He knocks on the door again, the windows blurry from melting snow. You have that to thank, at least. It buys you enough time to tug your polo over your head, but not enough time to button it all the way up.

“Fuckin’... dumbass,” Joel huffs as he clips the lock on the door and kicks it open, looking at least somewhat composed. You take deep breaths, looking between the two of them. “How’d you find us?”

Tommy looks Joel up and down, scrutinizing him. “What happened to southern gentleman manners? I came out here to save ya from Mt. Everest, brother! Least you could say is ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you,” you fill in for Joel, even if the last thing you’re feeling is grateful.

“Her daddy threw a hissy fit, y’know? Told him you were fine and we’d go lookin’ for ya in the mornin’. We saw all that backup on the highway, I went this way, he went that way, turns out my gut was right. ‘Course my dumbass brother would take this route… hey, you’re truck’s a fuckin’ mess.” Tommy sinks his hand into the closest cupholder, pulling out a wad of tissues that have been soaked in his cum. You hiss as if you’ve been scalded with boiling hot water.

Joel starts, “Tommy–”

“What the fuck is this shit?” The realization seems to dawn on poor Tommy when he’s peeling apart the tissues, and he drops them like they’re a thousand pounds. You can’t even bring yourself to scold him for littering as the wind carries them away. “Joel. You dirty dog!” He says, eyes flitting between the two of you like it’s the most impossible thing in the world.

Your heart picks up to a speed that can rival most NASCAR drivers and your face burns like hot asphalt. You look pointedly down at the ground.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Joel seethes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Get outta here, you little shit.”

Tommy’s hands go up. “Hey now, I ain’t doin’ anything. That is not a conversation I wanna have with her daddy.” He clears his throat, effectively clearing the air along with it. “So, uh, truck break down?” Joel grunts in affirmation.

“Been tellin’ ya you need to make a stop at the auto shop… C’mon, I’ll get y'all home,” Tommy says, jingling the keys to his own truck. “Call a tow on the way.”

Joel drags his feet all the way to Tommy’s passenger side. You get your wallet and jacket together, winding the latter around your waist. The sun almost blinds you on your way out, and Tommy stops you.

“I hope you didn’t let ‘im stick it to ya with them prehistoric condoms. You’re smarter ‘n that.”

“God, no,” you huff out.

“I dunno what’s stupider, lettin’ my asshole brother hit it raw or gettin’ a UTI–”

“Okay!” you announce, hands going up as you round the back of Tommy’s truck. “Conversation over.” You’re still smiling playfully at Tommy as you clamber into the back of the truck, sighing when the air conditioner hits.

Just like that, back to the same old same old sunny, shithole state of Texas. Joel looks at you in the rearview mirror and winks at you. You guess not everything has to stay the same these days.

#vetty's words 𓇢𓆸 #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller/reader #joel miller/f! reader

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huhmiya · 6 months ago

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THE WEEKND | matt sturniolo

pairing: bf!matt x f!reader

summary: you gamed while listening to the weeknd while matt was away shooting a youtube video with his brothers, he later drives them back to his place before coming over to your house. it becomes evident that both of you share similar music tastes, sparking a heated connection between you.

warning: smut, sub!matt, swearing, nipple playing, p in v, unprotected sex, edging (matt), blow job, pet names (babe, love, baby, darling), rough sex, ass grabbing, whimpering matt.

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. what’s y’all favourite weeknd song?

WORDS: 2.1k

huhmiya on wattpad

you - pink | matt - blue

You were in your room, alone, listening to music on your phone. Matt was over at your place earlier in the morning after spending the night, but he had to leave to hang out with his brothers and make a YouTube video.

He had texted you a few times, but you only noticed a couple of messages since you were preoccupied scrolling through social media or playing games while listening to The Weeknd.

You had The Weeknd songs on shuffle, as you had quite a few favorites. You didn't pay much attention to the music now and again, as you were focused on gaming and used it as background noise.

Although you were home alone, you didn't hear the front door open. Matt had keys to your place, but you were engrossed in gaming and The Weeknd playing quite loudly in your room.

Matt seemed to notice the music coming from your room, so he locked the door and took off his shoes before heading up to your bedroom. He was familiar with your place, as your home was like a second home to him.

You were quietly singing along to the lyrics, your voice barely audible as you knew the words by heart. Your eyes widened when you saw your bedroom door open, and for a moment, your breath caught in your throat before you realized it was Matt.

"Did I scare you?" he chuckled softly, his voice cutting through the music. "Maybe," you replied with a smile.

He playfully teased you before sitting down next to you, pulling you into a hug. He noticed you were gaming, but he didn't let go because he missed you, especially after being interrupted many times during the YouTube video he was filming with Chris and Nick.

"You never told me you listened to The Weeknd," he whispered, planting a kiss on your neck and resting his head on your shoulder.

"It just never came up in a conversation," you shrugged, setting aside your game and turning it off to hug him back and spend time.

"Hmm, I guess we do have similar music tastes," he whispered, looking at you before turning up the volume a bit.

As the music volume increased, he leaned his head back on your shoulder, gazing off into space. He had something on his mind, but he didn’t do anything yet.

After a moment, he turned to look at you, noticing how relaxed you appeared while listening to The Weeknd. He let out a slight chuckle before gently kissing your lips, catching you off guard with the sudden gesture. You responded by returning the kiss.

The exchange was brief and nothing more, but for Matt, it felt like a tantalizing tease. He found you captivating, like a drug he couldn't resist.

"Can I be honest with you?" he asked, prompting you to hum in response. He brushed his hair away from his face, noting that it needed a trim as it was getting close to his eyes. "I'm really turned on," he confessed.

You were taken aback by his candidness, and he chuckled softly, planting a kiss on your neck before pressing his body closer to yours to make his arousal evident.

You grabbed his hips to pick him up without hesitation, pulling him onto your lap as you shared a passionate kiss. His hands wandered over your hips, matching your intensity as he let out a soft moan.

“Touch me... pleasure me with your mouth, love,” he whispered, breaking away slightly but keeping your lips close. As he gazed into your eyes, he guided your hand to his arousal, eliciting soft whimpers as you stroked him. His hips moved gently against your hand, his lip caught between his teeth.

When you withdrew, he let out a small whine, his blue eyes flickering between yours and your chest before returning to meet your gaze. After exchanging one final kiss, you used a hairband from your wrist to tie your hair back.

His skin was covered in goosebumps, not from fear but from desire. He longed for you, his desire evident as he fantasized about taking control and experiencing your intimate connection further.

He acted without hesitation, releasing his grip on you and swiftly removing his shorts and boxers. His desire for you was palpable, his member yearning to be touched, craving you like oxygen.

Your hands enveloped his erection, gently stroking to heighten the intensity before teasingly licking the tip in circles and giving it kitten-like licks.

He groaned, leaning his head back in response to your skilled techniques before grasping your up-swept hair.

"Do you like that?" you inquired, to which he nodded with a soft whimper, struggling to speak as he was overwhelmed. "I love it... but please, don't tease me," he managed to say, his tone rougher than intended.

Without warning, you took his entire length into your mouth and began moving your head, your tongue tracing the veins as you set a deliberate pace, turning him into a whimpering mess.

"OH FUCK!" he exclaimed, his grip on your hair tightening as he urged you to go faster, though not forcing you beyond your own pace. "Oh, y/n... baby," he whispered with a small whimper.

You accelerated, bringing him closer, as he had been eagerly anticipating your presence all day. Fulfilling his desires felt like heaven to him.

"Your mouth was made for me, babe," he murmurs, releasing your hair and gripping the sheets tightly.

He lets out a few whimpers before moaning louder, his excitement evident as his member twitches in your mouth, signaling his imminent climax. Despite this, he cautions you with his words.

As he nears the peak of pleasure, you withdraw, preventing him from reaching orgasm just yet. He gazes at you, a smirk playing on your lips. "Y/n, are you serious right now? Please don't do this," he pleads softly, a hint of frustration in his tone.

Observing his vulnerability, you meet his gaze as he reaches out for your hand, only to have you gently pull away. He utters your name softly.

"Babe, I mean it, please don't do this—I need you," he pleads, his member glistening with your saliva.

You ignored him, sitting next to him and then lying with your feet dangling at the end of your bed, listening to The Weeknd playing in the background.

Matt looked at you with a huff, clearly upset and wondering why you were acting this way. He glanced at his boxers and shorts, perhaps considering changing, but ultimately didn't care.

"Fuck you, y/n," he said before climbing on top of you, turning your head to the side as he kissed your neck forcefully, leaving behind hickeys. "Someone's feeling feisty," you teased, which only prompted him to bite down to silence you.

He continued to mark you with harsh hickeys while on top of you, his arousal evident, though he tried to push it aside, focusing on the intensity of the moment.

Pulling back, he forced you to meet his gaze. "I want you to take me, and don't you dare tease me again, or I'll make sure you forget your own name," he threatened.

Tightening his grip on your chin, he smirked confidently, his other hand lingering on your shirt.

His eyes subtly conveyed his desire to remove your shirt, even though he already knew the answer. He simply wanted to ensure you were comfortable with it.

You nodded, prompting a smile from him as he carefully took off your shirt, placing it on the floor before removing his own.

"I want you to make love to me... You can't leave me like that and expect me not to be turned on. I need you more than anything," he whispered as he guided you on top of him, gently holding your hips.

His swift actions caught you off guard, and as you met his gaze, you ran your finger down his chest, causing him to shiver slightly.

You paused to kiss his lips tenderly, prompting a more passionate response from him. He was eager for your touch, as if he hadn't been intimate in years.

With his assistance, you removed your shorts, leaving you naked as you had been in pajamas. He gazed at your body before meeting your eyes. "Oh, darling... I am completely yours. I belong to you."

"I know you're mine," you whispered, causing him to smirk. Your naked bodies pressed against each other as he tightly squeezed your ass while you straddled him.

"Y/n, if you keep this up, I'll cum and I haven't had a chance to be inside you yet," he whispered against your lips. You chuckled softly, prompting him to lightly bite your bottom lip.

His hands explored every inch of your body but mostly your ass before guiding you to sit on his cock, ensuring a perfect fit between his length and your warmth. The only sounds filling the room were your synchronized breathing and the music from the weeknd playing in the background.

As you slowly took him in, your walls tightened around him, eliciting a deep groan from him and soft moans from you as he stretched you.

"Oh, love, y/n," he struggled to find the right words, lost in the pleasure. Grasping your hips firmly, he ensured he was completely inside you, his own arousal evident as he felt you shiver slightly.

He continued to move you, taking it slow to help you adjust to him. You were his perfect match, and with every moment, he found himself falling deeper in love with you.

Moaning his name, you caught Matt's attention, though he couldn't resist glancing at your chest. He made an effort to meet your gaze.

As you picked up the pace, Matt averted his eyes and closed them, his body arching in response. He held onto your hips, allowing you to take the lead. Suppressing a loud moan, he bit his cheek deliberately, his hands trembling on your smooth skin before moving to caress your breasts.

His thumbs circled your nipples slowly while he maintained eye contact with your boobs, intensifying his arousal. Fixated on your breasts, he eventually pinched your nipples, eliciting a louder moan from you. “Oh, Matt.”

Continuing his actions, Matt felt his orgasm building as you moved your hips, thoroughly enjoying the experience.

The way your breasts bounced caused his eyes to roll back, and the way you pleased him made him arch his back and moan. He couldn’t help but hold onto your hips.

“I’m close,” he mumbled, and even though music was playing, you heard him. You locked eyes with him, nodded, and increased your pace, which prompted him to grip your hips tightly. He wasn’t careful not to leave nail marks, as his nails were always trimmed short.

“Me too,” you whispered, feeling your orgasm building with each passing second as he twitched inside you, growing more sensitive with his own climax approaching.

For a brief moment, he moaned louder than the music as he released his hot seed into you, the warmth leaking out while you remained on top of him.

He shut his eyes tightly and let out a slight hiss, breathing heavily. His body trembled slightly, especially as your walls tightened and you climaxed around his cock.

You collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily, as one of his hands found its way into your hair, playing with it while he remained inside you. “Damn, girl, I love you,” he mumbled.

After smiling and kissing his head, you got off him, his dick no longer inside you. You lay down next to him, and he frowned, prompting you to look at him in confusion. He then spoke, "No, I love you..?”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes before gently kissing his lips and pulling back. "I love you too, and even more," you said as he smiled like a kid in a candy shop and hugged you tightly.

Returning the hug, you closed your eyes and snuggled next to him, both feeling weakened from the intimacy.

"Shall we listen to one more Weekend song before aftercare?" he asked with a small smile. You nodded in agreement, holding onto him as he did the same.

masterlist! guidelines & information! wattpad! socials!

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stunie · 4 months ago

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SCARY BOYFRIEND EX PRIVILEGES! ❤︎ — Endo Yamato x f!reader ﾉ Sfw ﾉ Cw harassment (not from Endo) ﾉ My response to:

ANON’S ASK — Random thought but what the wind breaker boys protect you in spite of being your ex. Whether it was a mutual, [etc], uncertain, or bittersweet break up is up to you.

Other warnings: one mention of reader typically wearing makeup

As weird as it sounds, you’re not entirely sure if you and Endo have ever officially broken up. Dating through high school was one thing, but keeping the relationship strong after attending different universities was another.

At the very least, you’re 90% sure the relationship died, although you don’t remember exactly when the two of you stopped talking. After you switched your phone number following your first semester at university, you hadn’t even bothered to tell him. You don’t remember why you didn’t bother to either.

Everything is weird now.

Life has been entirely different without him. There’s one less free pocket in your bag now that you’ve started carrying pepper spray with you. You wear your headphones in one ear at a time, and your volume isn’t on full blast anymore.

You actually look where you’re going, and you pay attention to the time— take a mental note that it starts getting dark earlier at this point in the year.

Even with the precautions you’ve learned during your time at university, this type of thing would always be out of your control. How in the world did you get singled out wearing your pajamas and no makeup?

Life wasn’t being fair to you.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here all alone?”

“Midterms.” You narrow your eyes to the best of your ability, balling your hands into little fists to mask how they’ve started to tremble. “I’m meeting up with some friends now.”

You used to be able to just say “I have a boyfriend.”

You also used to be walked home, so this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. You’re sure that if Endo saw the way you are now, he’d be making a comment by now. Something along the lines of “gonna hurt your hands if you throw a punch with your fists like that, sweet thing.”

Nothing is fair. Why is it now that you start missing him for the first time in years? The feeling comes a little too easily for a relationship that faded into nothing, but you’re too scared to kick yourself in the shin right now.

“That so?” The man in front of you laughs when your fight or flight finally starts to kick in. You take a couple of steps backward, and your frame is suddenly a lot smaller compared to his. How easy. “Where are these friends of yours? Can’t believe you’re out here all by yourself..”

“T-they have my location, y’know.”

There’s the stutter that always gives you away.

He laughs at this, and you can feel yourself breaking into a cold sweat. Keep your words steady. Ignore the way your heart rate is spiking. Do absolutely anything to avoid letting him know that you’re scared out of your mind.

It doesn’t work at all. “They won’t know if you don’t have your phone on you, will they?”

All the words you know seem to slip out of your brain, and your face feels painfully hot. “U-um…”

“You’re exactly my type. It’s a compliment… I’m being nice, so just come with me. You won’t regret it— I’ll make it worth your time.”

It doesn’t like sound an offer, and it doesn’t sound like a suggestion either. Your body freezes against your will, and he catches onto this pretty fast. The pepper spray in your bag seems too far away for you to even consider, and you’ve never felt so helpless in your life.

“Yeah? That sound good?” He moves to close the distance between the two of you with a grin, reaching out to grab your wrist. Your eyes slam shut, lips trembling even when you try to say something to protest. “Damn… you’re so docile for such a pretty girl. Usually, they’d be a bitch, but you—”

“How mean.” Your eyes shoot open when you’re suddenly tugged backward, gasping when your back roughly collides with someone’s chest. “I was waiting all alone. What’s my girl doing over here with you?”

The tattooed arms that drape themselves over your shoulders don’t look familiar at first glance, but the muscles and his scent are. Painfully familiar, as a matter of fact. They’re the same arms you used to cling onto- and you always used to wrap your fingers around his bicep and rest your head on his shoulder.

He loved that.

It all registers in your head as soon as he puts his weight on you, head right beside yours and you feel his hair tickle your neck. He gives the man in front of you an unamused look before turning to you.

“M-me?” You want to dig a hole and stay there for eternity after hearing just how shaky your voice comes out. Endo’s so close that you could simply turn your head to the side and you’d be kissing him.

He laughs, and you feel your face heat up again. Only this time, there’s a gentle fluttering of your heart that comes with it instead. “Yeah, you. What? Did you think I was talking to the loser? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The way you move to latch onto his arm in an instant is all he needs to confirm that your feelings haven’t changed. The man in front of you doesn’t speak— he can’t seem to move either. Your boyfriend has made quite the name for himself, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?

To you, he’s your bodyguard— and more, of course, but maybe you’d be honest and tell him about that another time. But to that guy, he’s pure danger. The way Endo looks over his shoulder to give him one last glance is already enough to have his knees buckling.

#wind breaker x reader #wind breaker #wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker fluff #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker #endo yamato #yamato endo #endo x reader #endo yamato x reader #endo yamato x you #yamato endo x reader #endo x you #endo yamato fluff #windbreaker fluff

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battleshipwrites · 4 months ago

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𝕝𝕚𝕡𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤 // ᴅɪᴄᴋ ɢʀᴀʏsᴏɴ

tags: 18+ MDNI, minors do not interact, no explicit sub/dom, fem!reader, needy!dick, overstimulation mention, hair-pulling kink if you squint, lemme know if more tags needed | 700 words

He was under you on the couch, his hands wandering your waist as the two of you kissed. You were supposed to be leaving the house for a gala right about now, but then you’d put on a navy blue dress that’d fit a little too well, and now you were here.

Technically, this wasn’t the worst way to end up, but the two of you had sworn you wouldn’t be late again, and this time around you had on lipstick that was now smudged all over his lips and neck. You'd end up missing the event as a whole if you let this continue.

“Dick, we gotta go,” you say, pulling away from him properly and sitting up so you're straddling him more than anything. His hands were left on your hips, and he was a sight. His tie was loose– near undone– and his neck and jawline was covered in lipstick prints from earlier. Not to mention his lips currently had more lipstick on them than yours.

He was looking up at you, still mildly dazed as you waited for his reply, not quite standing up yet but knowing you should. He frowned as the words seemed to process.

“Just 20 more minutes, then we’ll go.” He sits up, coming to meet your lips again as he speaks, one hand moving to cup your jaw when you allow him to. You indulge him (and yourself) for a moment more before properly standing up, and grabbing his arm. He pouts once more and you hood back a laugh, instead a fond smile appears on your face.

“C’mon, we’ll freshen up but we gotta go,” you sigh, him finally getting up and following you to the bathroom. Shutting the door it was relatively easy to fix up your makeup, and then his lips and neck, and it would’ve been all sorted if as you were cleaning him up his hands didn’t start wandering under your dress.

You were sitting on the counter, so there wasn’t much to do except give him a short look before continuing. It didn’t do much (shocker). Your hand paused for a moment on his neck when his hands slid up higher on your thighs, toying with the lace of your panties with a grin as he watched you take a breath before continuing.

“You alright?” He asks, near mockingly as you glare at him, although it’s cut short when his hand starts to tug your panties down. You actually stop him this time.

“Dick,” you mutter, and he pauses, keeping eye contact as you stare each other down. He wins when one of his hands slips your panties further down your legs and your hand on his neck grips tighter.

Before you know it he’s kneeling, your dress pooled around your waist and legs hooked over his shoulders as he eats you out like a man starved. Your head was thrown back, one hand in his hair as the other grips onto the counter like you’ll die if you let go. He was very obviously grinning, something you didn’t need to be looking at him to tell as his tongue laved through your folds before diving back into your cunt with his tongue and two of his fingers that’d been slowly but surely destroying you for- fuck you don’t even know how long.

You were sure the both of you were going to be getting a talk tomorrow by someone from his family, or your boss, but right now it didn’t seem of high importance as you felt a knot in your stomach tighten, eyes rolling back as his free hand digs into the meat of your thigh.

A moan left your throat as you clutched at his hair when you came, his face still buried between your legs as if he belonged there (he sure felt like he did) as he helped you through your orgasm. The issue arose when he didn’t pull away after, instead speeding up steadily once more despite you tugging at his hair.

He wasn’t listening, your moans gaining volume as time went on, tugs on his head being a mix between ‘get away’ and ‘don’t stop’ that made him groan into you, only spurring you on more.

It was going to be a long night.

#dividers by adornedwithlight #18+ mdni #mdni #dick grayson #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x you #drabble

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lyrefromthesea · 6 months ago

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I love you.

pairing: Giyuu x fem!reader

content warning: nsfw, use of nicknames, oral (receiving), soft dom Giyuu, fingering

"love.." he said, his voice was barely audible. your eyes wandered down, looking at the man, who's head is currently placed on your lap. it was the first thing he did after coming home.

he came home earlier today, a soft smile gracing his face when he found you sitting on the couch. he looked more tired than usual - or perhaps you were just imagining it.

"i've missed you, love. did you miss me..?" he asked you, his eyes traveling over your form. you were wearing a plain shirt and a skirt to accompany it. he didn't need anything fancy, he liked how you looked in those clothes.

"i kissed you before you left for work and you already miss me?" you asked in return, chuckling when he fiddled with the hem of your skirt. he silently nodded, his cheek rubbing against your clothed thigh. a quiet sigh. perhaps he was being too clingy?

"i'm just teasing, i missed you too" you chuckled, placing your hand on his head. you gently brushed your fingers through his hair. a shudder. he knew you weren't doing it on purpose, but he always felt his heart beating faster when you touched him like that.

it didn't help his earlier feelings. he had thought about you while he worked, often spacing out. you treated him well. your body was beautiful. he loved you. did he show that enough? he moved, just a bit, but you looked down at him.

"i love you." his hand wandered up your thigh, gently pushing your skirt up. you laughed, he must've been feeling playful. you didn't object as he stood up, leaving his place on the couch. he kneeled in front of you so readily.

"i love you too." you answered, your breath hitching when his hand led your leg over his shoulder, pressing a tender kiss against your thigh. he closed his eyes, as if he was savoring the feeling of your plush skin. slow kisses were being placed against your skin, making you quiver.

"Giyuu..?" you quietly gasped, watching the man push your skirt further up, not wanting to get it into his face. you felt warmth spread in your core, he was dangerously close to your panties. of course he was, he wanted to show his love to you.

"let me spoil you." he mumbled, slender fingers pushing your panties to the side, too into the act to take them off properly. you gasped, hand covering your mouth in embarassement. he placed kisses on your pussy lips, his eyes already closed again.

"you're so soft down here.." he uttered, using two fingers to spread you apart. he didn't hesitate to add his tongue into the play, licking a long and slow stripe up your cunt. he shuddered lightly, content with your current state.

he didn't do much until now, but your body reacted to him so well. he could already taste your slick on his tongue, showing him how much you desired him too, even if you didn't voice it.

"Giyuu, you're teasing me again.." you whined against your hand, looking down at the man between your legs. he barely reacted to your words, too focused on putting your other leg over his shoulder as well.

his mouth was occupied lapping on your cunt, teasingly close to your clit. yet you were right, he didn't want to tease you - not on purpose. he listened to your plea, sucking on your clit gently.

his eyes opened, watching you when he felt a hand tangle into his hair. a quiet grunt escaped him, his fingers coming up to help pleasuring you. he made sure to be gentle when he slipped them into you, earning another whine from your lips.

"just like that, baby. i want you to feel good." he mumbled against you, the vibrations making you feel another wave of pleasure. your fingers tugged on his hair, hips lightly rolling against his lips. he was treating you so good, but you wanted - needed - more.

he got the hint, moving his fingers a bit faster, curling them up to hit that special spot inside you. naturally, a smile tugged at his lips when he heard your moans grow in volume.

"t- there, Giyuu. that's the spot..!" you moaned, continuing to move your hips against his tongue and fingers. you could feel the coil in your stomach tighten - just a little push. you just wanted a little push to finally fall over the edge.

"let it out, love. you can let go.." he said, his voice slightly muffled by his lips pressed against your core. he was too eager to see you unravel to pull away now. he sucked on your clit more eagerly, watching in awe as you arched your back.

his fingers slipped out of you, replacing them with his tongue to lap up your arousal. he guided you through your orgasm, slurping noices filling the room. his eyes stayed on your face until you slumped against the couch again.

he pulled away, giving your pussy a last kiss before he stood up and leaned over you. his gaze had softened, meeting your lidded eyes.

"did you feel good, love..?" he asked, his eyes watching you nod slowly. you smiled at him - almost appearing a bit bashful. he didn't mind, in fact, he liked seeing you like this.

"i love you." he whispered once more, pressing a tender kiss to your plush lips.

#kimetsu no yaiba smut #giyuu tomioka x reader #giyuu x reader #kimetsu giyuu #demon slayer giyuu #tomioka smut #giyuu smut

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bloodibambiidoll · 11 months ago

Text

Cinnamon Girls

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Fem!OC)

Summary: Eddie never thought his nightly routine would include sneaking into a catholic collage to see his two girlfriends, but never say never, right? Wk:4.5k

Warnings: Established poly relationship, M/F/F threesome, spanking, choking, Dom!Eddie, Sub!Reader, Switch!OC, Pet names(Eddie has nicknames for both R & OC that I’ll explain in a different part), spint kink, scissoring, gum sharing?, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex. I think that’s it? Lmk if I missed any. 18+MDNI

A/N: Okay this idea came to me the other night and I was like possessed by it. I’m kind of obsessed with these three now and I’ve actually come up with other lore about them. I might expand on this lil AU if anyone’s interested. Thank you to my lovely betas @babygorewhore @bimbobaggins69 & @reidsbtch🧸🤍 Moodboard.

Eddie’s ringed fingers reach for the volume knob on the radio, turning it almost all the way down as he rounds the corner to his destination. He turns off the headlights as he slowly pulls his van close to the curb before cutting the engine. He always makes sure to be as quiet as possible, even if he is parked half a block down the road from the school itself. He pulls down the drivers side mirror, fluffing his unruly hair. He pops a piece of cinnamon gum into his mouth and exits his van, making sure not to slam the door like he tends to have a habit of doing.

He looks both ways, checking for bystanders. He was pretty sure there wouldn’t be anyone out on the street at 2AM, especially with the students strict curfew, but he always liked to be sure. If he got caught, he would be so fucked. He shoves the chain on his jeans in his pocket before hiking his leg up on the fence, vaulting himself as quietly as possible up and over onto the other side. He lands with a quiet thud, again checking his surroundings to make sure he was alone.

He walks around the edges of the campus, making sure to keep to the shadows and not set off any automatic lights. Once he reaches the building he’s come to know well he grabs a few small pebbles from the gravel beneath his feet. He tosses one up at the window he’s found himself crawling into most nights lately, and waits.

It only took a few seconds before he saw two heads popping into view, bright smiles on their faces. His heart rate immediately picks up, his stomach erupts with butterflies, and his cock slightly stirs in his pants at the prospect of what the night was going to bring.

Eddie quickly climbs up the conveniently placed fire exit ladder and the window is already pushed open for him when he reaches it. His long ripped jean clad legs enter the room and his boot covered feet hit the ground with a gentle thud one by one.

“My girls.” He smiles wide, taking the sides of your faces in each of his hands. “I missed you.”

“Eddieee.” You nuzzle your face into his palm, practically purring like a kitten. Looking up at him through your lashes with those big sweet eyes that drive him insane. “I missed you.”

“Hey nerd boy.” Mina chuckles, turning her face to nip at his fingers. “We saw you less than 24 hours ago.”

“So you didn’t miss me, pretty girl?” Eddie mock pouts, his thumb running along your girlfriend’s plump bottom lip.

“I didn’t say that, did I?” She rolls her eyes, taking his digit into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it, pulling a groan from his chest.

“Don’t fall for her tough girl act Eds, you should’ve heard her when I was underneath her skirt between classes earlier… ‘fuck baby, you’re so good, I wish I was watching Eddie fuck you from behind right now’ she totally missed you.”

“Hey!” She pulls off Eddie’s thumb with a pop, a string of spit still connected to her lips. “It’s not fair to use what I say when you’re eating me out like it’s the last chance you’ll ever get against me, brat!”

“That’s okay she pretty much lost me at ‘when I was underneath her skirt between classes earlier’… you two are going to fucking kill me, I swear.” Eddie groans, throwing his head back while he runs his hands down his face. The image of you and your girlfriend sneaking off in your little catholic school uniforms to get each other off driving both him and his cock insane.

“Is that doing it for you, Eddie? Thinking about us fucking when you’re not here? Because we do… All. The. Time. Before class, between class, after… we were just messing around before you got here actually…” The look on your face is innocent while the words leaving your mouth are anything but and Eddie swears every single time he comes here his dick gets harder than he ever thought possible.

“We tried to wait for you, but we just got so worked up thinking about you coming over… we couldn’t help ourselves.” Mina reaches up to run her long pointed black nails down his cheek and he grabs onto her wrist, stopping her movements.

“So you admit it then, you missed me? You can deny it if you want, but I bet the minute I get my hands on that pussy it’ll be dripping for me…” He smirks at her, his ember orbs boring into her mossy ones as his lips trail open mouth kisses down her wrist. “Show me…”

“Huh? Show you what?” Her eyes are wide, her body language much more relaxed than it had been in the last few minutes.

“You already getting all dumb on me, baby? All I did was put my lips on you…” Eddie’s large ringed hand grips her jaw, shaking her head from side to side. “Get on the bed and show me what you were doing with our girl before I got here.”

A whimper leaves her lips and it makes you clench around nothing. You always love watching them together. Mina was the more dominant of the two of you, often taking control in and out of the bedroom. So watching the way she submits so easily to Eddie makes you melt. They were both so fucking hot.

He releases her wrist and steps back, leaning against the desk near the wall. He crosses his feet at the ankles and looks at you both expectantly. His eyes finally take the time to drink you both in. If he hadn’t been so distracted by your dirty words and flirty banter what you were doing before he got here probably would’ve been obvious.

You were in nothing but a little pink cami that had a bunny printed on the front, your little white lace panties were adorned with a pink bow and you even had on fucking ruffle socks. You were the epitome of a little religious girl gone bad. Mina on the other hand was very much your opposite. Her black cut off tank top had a little skull and crossbones printed on it, her red g-string sat high on her hips, her feet were bare and the moonlight reflected off her black polished toes. She was the perfect example of what happens when religious girls rebel. Your lips were kiss swollen and her long dark hair looked like you’d been pulling at it. God, Eddie was the luckiest bastard to ever walk the earth.

He watches with his bottom lip secured between his teeth as she approaches you, one hand resting on your hip while the other grabs onto the hair at the nape of your neck. She uses her grip to pull your face to hers, kissing you with fever. Your hands snake around her to grab handfuls of her ass and she moans into your mouth.

“Wanna give Eddie a show, baby girl?” She mumbles against your lips.

“Fuck ya.” You pull back from her with a glint in your eyes and a smirk on your lips. Those mischievous eyes meet Eddie’s as you pull your girlfriend by the hand towards your bed. She sits against the headboard with her legs spread and you climb on top of her. You position your legs so your hips are tilted to the side, your barely clothed core sat directly on top of hers. You roll your hips causing both of you to moan at the feeling.

Her hands grip onto your ass to help you move against her while her hips grind up to meet your thrusts. You take her face in your hands and connect your lips again, your tongue darting out across her bottom lip, silently requesting access. She grants it to you immediately, intertwining her tongue with your own while she moans into your mouth.

Eddie licks his lips at the sight, the way your girlfriend’s long nails dig into the flesh of your ass, the way your tits are pressed up against each other while you grind together. His cock is so hard it feels like it’s going to pop the button on his jeans, he hastily reaches for his belt, clumsily undoing it. Then he moves onto his button and zipper, fumbling slightly, not wanting to take his eyes off the two of you. His cock finally springs free and hits his stomach, a drop of precum dripping onto his dark faded band tee. He spits in his palm before taking his cock in his hand, stroking it roughly. A moan rips through him at the feeling of finally being touched, even if it’s his own.

“Mmm look at Eddie baby…” Your head is turned towards him now as your eyes drink him in hungrily. Mina’s face leaves the crook of your neck to follow your gaze and the sight combined with just the right roll of your hips makes her whimper.

“Fuck, you like what you see, nerd boy?” She pushes your tank top up over your tits and takes them in her soft hands without breaking eye contact with him. Your hips pick up speed and you’re both so wet now that your combined juices are making the fabric of your panties stick together with each roll of your hips.

“You know I do, pretty girl.” He smirks right back, his hand still stroking his thick cock while his eyes travel over both your bodies. Her tongue licks around your areola before she takes your nipple in her mouth, causing you to gasp.

“I want more.” You whimper. She feels so good against you, but it’s not quite enough. You need to feel her. You lift your hips just enough to use your hands to push both of your panties to the side before lowering yourself back down onto her warm wet cunt. Her clit bumps against yours and you’re both so wet you practically glide against her. “Fuck, yes.”

Eddie approaches the side of the bed, taking both of your jaws in his hands, forcing you both to look up at him. “Goddamn, you guys are so fucking sexy, can you cum like that for me? If you’re good girls and make each other cum I’ll give you my cock.”

His words spur you on, your hands coming to rest on Mina’s shoulders for leverage as you grind your wet pussy against hers. She leans forward to take your nipple into her mouth, her free hand toying with your other one.

“Oh fuuuck, yes. You’re so wet baby, you feel so good. I’m gonna cum.” You press yourself down on her hard, moving your hips in a circular motion that has her clit gliding deliciously through your wet folds. Her teeth sink into the meat of your tit, sending you over the edge. Her hands grab onto your hips, guiding you against her as your high crashes over you.

“Mmm that’s it, good girl, cum for us.” She pulls off of you so she can watch your face as you fall apart on top of her.

“Your turn.” You’re still panting as you come down from your orgasm but you use one hand to shove her shirt up over her tits, your tongue immediately flicking out to lick across her perky peaked nipples. Your other hand slides between your bodies, finding her clit with ease. You grind your palm against her sensitive bud while your tongue and lips continue their assault on her nipples.

“Fuuuuuck.” You hear Eddie groan above you and your eyes snap his direction, immediately meeting his lust filled ones. His tongue darts out across his bottom lip and you can’t see from how you’re angled but the way he’s shaking you can tell he’s jerking himself off again. You can’t wait to get your hands and mouth on every inch of him too.

“Cum for me baby, I wanna hear those pretty sounds.” You insert your middle and pointer finger inside her while your palm continues its ministrations on her clit.

“Oh my fucking god, that’s so good, you’re gonna make me - I’m gonna fucking cum!” Her sharp nails dig into your ass and a pornographic moan rips through her as she cums around your fingers. You fuck her through it, leaving open mouth kisses all across her chest.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen, shit.” Eddie’s voice breaks you from your Mina induced trance and you whip your head towards him. He’s shirtless now, his jeans still hanging low on his hips, his hard leaking cock on full display.

“Mmm does that mean we earned our reward? You look damn right edible, Mr. Munson.” You smirk up at him, practically salivating at the sight of the bead of precum dripping from his slit. Eddie groans, something about you calling him that makes his cock twitch.

“Yeah, I think you earned it, Bunny. Why don’t you get over here and suck it?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You climb off Mina, crawling towards him so you can sit in front of him on your knees. She follows suit, sitting close enough to you that your bare thighs touch. Eddie feels like he’s going to fucking cum just looking at you both on your knees for him, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Take your shirts off and stick out your tongues.” You turn towards your girlfriend, grabbing the hem of her already hiked up tank top and pulling it over her head. She does the same for you and then you both turn back towards him, sticking your tongues out just like he asked. “God fucking damn, have I ever told you I’m the luckiest man to ever live? Look at my beautiful girls, waiting for me to use their little throats.”

He slaps his cock against your tongue, that bead of precum you’d been eyeing dripping into your mouth just like you wanted. He glides his tip along your tongue a few times before turning to do the same to Mina. His large ringed hands come around both your heads, gripping onto the hair at the nape of your necks.

“Keep your tongues out.” He leans over you to spit in your mouth before using the grip he has on your hair to pull your face to his cock. You take the hint, taking as much of him as you can into your mouth. You bob your head up and down while he gives Mina the same treatment above you, pulling her head down next to yours once he's done. You feel her lips traveling up your shoulder to your jaw, she leaves wet kisses across your cheek until she reaches your mouth. Her tongue darts out to lick the part of Eddie’s shaft that isn’t down your throat, curling around it.

“Holy fuuuucking shit.” Eddie groans, he uses the grip on your hair to pull both of your heads back again, looking down at you with lust filled eyes. “Be good girls for me and make out on my cock.”

Mina smirks up at him before leaning forward to lick along the side of his length, you follow her lead, running your tongue up the opposite side. You both lick all around his cock like it’s a lollipop, your tongues occasionally touching and intertwining around it. She takes his tip in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it before taking him fully down her throat with a gag. You lean down so you can kitten lick across his balls, tasting the musky saltiness that is Eddie. You suck one of them into your mouth, your tongue massaging around the soft skin before pulling off and giving the other one the same treatment.

“Shit shit shit!!!” He pulls you both off of him with a gasp. “You gotta stop or I’m gonna fucking blow my load I swear you two are little succubi.”

“Mmm… you just taste so good, we want your human essence.” You giggle up at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “You know Eds… I haven’t even gotten a kiss yet.” You pout.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Bunny, I guess I got carried away, huh? Come here.” He grabs your face in his hands, leaning down to place a kiss that was much more gentle than you were expecting on your lips. He kisses you a few times before turning to Mina and attempting to give her the same treatment. But you watch as she grabs onto his hair and tugs, pulling his face hard against her own. Her tongue licks across his lips and his darts out to meet hers. She sucks his tongue into her mouth, bringing the cinnamon gum he was chewing with her.

“You’re sweet and all, nerd boy. But I’m still really fucking horny and I believe you promised us your cock? I’d like to cash in on that now.” She bites down on his bottom lip before pulling away with a smirk, popping his gum between her teeth.

“Yeah? You want my cock? Hands and knees, both of you. I wanna try something.”

Mina pulls her thong down her legs before flipping over on her hands and knees with her back arched, her ass in the air and on full display. You do the same, wiggling your ass back and forth as you look at Eddie over your shoulder. You watch with hungry eyes as he discards his jeans. His ring adorned hand comes down on your asscheek causing you to jolt forward with a yelp.

“Look at these perfect fucking assess, and they’re all mine…”

He pumps his cock a few times before running it through your slick folds, dipping the tip inside of your entrance before slapping it against your clit.

“Eddieeee…” you whine and wiggle your ass again, pushing back against him.

“Aww is a little Bunny feeling greedy?” You can hear the dumb smirk in his voice but you don’t have time to talk back before he’s shoving himself balls deep inside of you, knocking the air from your lungs. The stretch is so good, every single time. No matter how many times he fucks you it’s like he’s filling you up just right.

He starts fucking into you rough and fast, his grip on your hip is so tight that you hope the ring indents that had started to fade from last time are even darker than before. His free hand comes down hard on Mina’s asscheeks in succession before he’s soothing it with his palm and running his thick fingers through her dripping slit. He inserts two fingers inside her and starts to fuck her with them in tandem with the thrusts of his cock inside you.

“Fuck bunny, you’re so wet, this little pussy is squeezing me so tight.” The hand on your hip finds your clit, applying a delicious amount of pressure while he continues to bury himself deep inside you.

“Baby, gimme a kiss.” Mina’s voice almost sounds like it’s underwater with how close you are to cumming but you turn your face towards her. She grabs your jaw in one of her hands and smashes your lips together in a desperate moan filled kiss. Her tongue slips between your lips, exploring every inch, the gum she had just taken from Eddie’s mouth slips into your own and it still somehow tastes cinnamony sweet.

“I’m gonna c - cum, I’m gonna cum.” Your words are slurred against her lips, Eddie hits that perfect spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“Yeah baby? You gonna cum? Mi, why don’t you be a good girl and cum for me too?” Eddie continues his assault on your g-spot while his skilled fingers curl just right inside your shared girlfriend's cunt. It only takes a few more pumps of his cock to send you over the edge, Mina tumbling over her own right after you.

Eddie fucks you both through your highs before pulling his fingers away, he uses his other hand to grip onto your hair and pull your back flush against his chest.

“Suck.” He brings the slick covered digits to your mouth and you greedily take them in, tasting your girlfriend’s sweet nectar. “Good girl.”

He releases his grip on your hair and you fall forward, catching yourself on your hands at the last minute. You go to turn around but he grips your hips, keeping you in place.

“Stay. I didn’t say you could move, did I?” He smacks your ass before turning to Mina, roughly gripping her hips. “You want my cock now, kitty? I think you’ve earned it.”

“Just fuck me already, Munson.” Normally Eddie would take the time to tease her for her attitude, make her beg a little, but he’s so fucking hard he needs to be inside of her, right now. He grabs onto his cock, lining it up with her puffy lips, he pushes himself all the way inside of her in one thrust, throwing his head back when she clenches around him.

“You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?” He leans over her so his lips brush against the shell of her ear, trailing a few kisses down her throat. He stops at the juncture of her throat, sinking his teeth down onto it while he starts to fuck into her roughly.

“Yeah, but you fucking love it.” Her chuckle turns into a strangled moan when he wraps a hand around her throat, his cock pounding into her so deep she can feel him hitting her cervix.

You look over at them and you can’t help but moan at the sight. Eddie’s head is thrown back, revealing the expanse of his thick throat, a layer of sweat covers his inked chest and he’s growling almost animalistically. Mina’s face is slightly red from the way she’s being choked, a bit of drool is dripping from the corner of her mouth and her tits are bouncing deliciously. You want to lean down and suck them, and lick the drool off her chin but you also want to be a good girl and for Eddie so you decide to stay put.

And damn does it pay off, because one second he’s pounding into your girlfriend like his life depends on it and next thing you know he’s pulling out of her and thrusting deep inside you. He’s fucking you as hard as he was fucking her, picking up the pace he left off on. He thrusts into you a few more times before he’s pulling out and plunging back into Mina. He continues like this for a bit, fucking deeply into one of you before switching off and giving the other the same treatment. The room is filled with the sounds of your moans and slapping skin, and in the back of your mind you’re thankful that the girl next door moved out last week.

“My good fucking girls, letting me use your little holes like this, you’re so fucking good for me. Fuck!” Eddie pumps his into your girlfriend deep and hard, before pulling out and plunging into your wet, waiting heat. “Mi, go get in front of Bunny so I can watch her eat that pretty little pussy from the back while I fill her up with my cum.”

She’s past the point of giving him shit, so fucked out that she will do anything he asks without question. She crawls so she’s positioned on her hands and knees in front of you and your grab onto her asscheeks, spreading them apart.

“Looks so tasty…” You spread her open a few more times, watching her clench around nothing, then you lean forward and plunge your tongue as far as it can go inside of her. You fuck into her with your tongue before licking down to her clit, sucking it into your mouth.

Eddie is about to lose it, your pussy is clenching him so tight and your ass is bouncing deliciously against his hips. The sounds and the sight of you devouring your girlfriend is enhancing his pleasure by tenfold. He reaches his hand around you to rub circles on your clit, angling his hips the way he knows you love it.“Fuck baby, I’m not gonna last much longer… need you to cum for me.”

You bring two of your fingers to Mina’s entrance, pushing them inside her and curling them upwards. She pushes back against you, her pussy clenches around your fingers and you can tell she’s close too.

“Shit, I’mgonnafuckingcum.” She whimpers.

“Cum for us kitty, cum on our girl's face. I’m gonna cum too - fuckingshit.” Eddie’s thrusts get sloppy but he’s still fucking you so good, the speed of his fingers picks up on your clit and you feel his cum start to spill inside you. Mina’s pussy is like a vice grip on your fingers and the moans she’s letting out are like music to your ears. It’s all so hot and it has your own orgasm wracking through your body.

You’re all panting as you pull apart from each other, throwing yourselves down on the bed with Eddie in the middle. You both rest your heads on his shoulders, your legs thrown over each of his thighs. You and Mina absentmindedly play with each others fingers that rest on Eddie’s chest.

“I can’t fucking wait until you guys get out of here.” Eddie sighs.

“Soon baby, just one more month and this catholic collage nightmare will be over.” Your girlfriend places a gentle kiss on his peck, resting her chin there so she can look up at him.

“Then our dads will finally get off our asses and release our trust funds to us. And we can buy a nice house, and get you studio time.” You lean up to kiss his jaw, mimicking Mina’s position so you can look at his beautiful face too.

“Yeah? You guys are my certified sugar mama’s I swear.” Eddie chuckles, bringing his hands up so he can cup both of your jaws. He rubs his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks and looks into both of your eyes, placing a gentle kiss on each of your lips. He seriously was the luckiest bastard to ever live.

#eddie munson x reader #Dolly writes #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie Munson one shot #eddie munson x fem!oc #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

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flowerandblood · 1 year ago

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The Fall from the Heavens

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: kissing, angst, arranged engagement, violence, swearing, humiliation, bullying, chauvinism ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He had always felt that he lacked something. Part of him claimed that if a dragon had hatched from his egg, things would have been different, however, years later, he recognised that this was not entirely true.

Aegon had a gift for light-hearted conversation, an ironic humour that he lacked. He kept telling him to smile at last, to get his nose out of his books, that he was boring, perpetually serious and withdrawn. He preferred to spend time with Jace and Luke − they were louder and funnier than him, they understood him, they had what he was missing.

They had dragons.

They didn't spare unpleasant comments even to their own sister, calling her a hamster, most likely referring to her rosy, firm cheeks and big eyes.

He could see that she was running away from them crying, but he wasn't going to comfort her. She was a girl – her world, filled with poetry, embroidery and music seemed to him as distant as Essos.

The only thing they had in common was books.

They bumped into each other occasionally in the library, and although at first they simply pretended not to see one another, one day she dared to sit next to him as he looked through the family tree of their ancestors.

"What is it?" She asked, placing the large volume on the table in front of them with difficulty.

He huffed as the dust that rose with her movement reached his nostrils, out of the corner of his eye he noticed that it was The Great History of Aegon the Conqueror.

He did not reply, turning the page of the book, not knowing why he should explain it to her.

He didn't believe her, didn't trust her, didn't want her.

She was a bastard, though she probably didn't know it herself, wallowing in riches like a princess even though she didn't deserve them.

He didn't want her pity, attention or anything else she could give him.

He didn't want to be her second choice, the place she ran to because her brothers were mean to her; he had his own, in his mind very adult, worries and he didn't want to listen to hers.

"Is this a book dedicated to our family history?" She asked softly, leaning out so that she could see what he was reading.

She stood up, coming closer to him, intrigued. He pressed his lips together when he smelled her pleasant scent, some intense vanilla oil.

He felt a tightening and burbling in his stomach at the thought of the cake that smelled similar, which his mother had ordered to be baked for his Name Day a few months earlier.

"Ah, our family tree. Where are we?" She asked cheerfully, and he sighed heavily, reluctantly flipping forward a few pages, tracing their line with his finger, showing her a place at the very end.

He swallowed loudly as he saw how Laenor Velaryon was written in the space where her father was inscribed, trying not to smile with mockery.

She leaned lower, looking at the area he had pointed at and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, her cheek right next to his.

He was surprised at how different they were, apart from the obvious fact that he was a man and she was a woman.

His eyelashes were almost white and translucent and hers were black, long, surrounding her shining eyes, making them seem even bigger to him. His skin was pale, thin as parchment when hers was flushed and full of life, her lips plump and moist, her nose shapely and straight, the contour of her face gentle as his jaw was outlined sharply.

And finally, his hair, the colour of Targaryen's, the white she lacked, her luscious black curls falling gently down her back was visible proof of who her father was.

Although he liked to mock her in spirit, he couldn't say she was ugly or repulsive.

"Would you marry Helaena if our King so commanded?" She asked curiously, glancing sideways at his seated figure. He lifted his gaze to her and sighed heavily, figuring that nothing would happen if he spoke to her for a while.

She was simply bored, just like him, and he didn't get the impression that she had come to entertain herself at his expense.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Yes. I would do my duty as a Prince and son of the King." He said lowly, solemnly, fiddling between his fingers with the page of the book he had just looked at, crossing his legs.

Even though he was still a child, he was trying to sound and look like a man.

She cocked her head, clearly genuinely intrigued by his statement, a wide smile on her face.

"Are you in love with her?" She asked as if it was obvious, as if she was encouraging him to reveal to her his little secret. He looked at her in disbelief, not knowing what to make of her question.

He swallowed loudly, lowering his gaze, feeling his heart pounding fast.

What did it matter?

"Well…she's my sister. Of course I love her." He replied coolly, feeling strange with the words on his tongue, as if there was something inappropriate about them.

"I love Jace too, but I'm not in love with him. There's a difference." She said with a kind of calmness and wisdom that surprised him, looking at him with a gentle expression on her face that consternated him.

Why were they even having this conversation?

Still, her words made him feel a tightness in his throat, a realisation that he understood what she meant, but didn't want to admit it.

The tenderness of falling in love, the poems and the late-night frolicking were the domain of women's imagination, which unfortunately then had to collide with the cruel reality. He was a man, however, and he had no intention of getting into these deep divagations of the weaker sex.

"Don't be naïve. Marriage is not meant to be a pleasure. It is meant to be a sacrifice for the good of the kingdom, to secure its needs." He said dryly, turning back to the page he had been reading earlier, frustrated for some reason by her remark.

She did not speak again, returning to her seat, sinking into reading the gigantic volume dedicated to Aegon the Conqueror.

Although he could have done it in his chamber, he had been coming to the library to read ever since and always met her in the same place. Although they didn't appoint themselves, they both had their assignments until midday and would turn up there to read immediately afterwards, sitting next to each other, exchanging thoughts in passing.

He was afraid that Aegon would see them one day, but fortunately he never ventured into the abyss of the library, few people went there and he felt reasonably safe.

Usually it was she who asked him questions and he was the one who answered her. He felt some sort of empowerment because of this – at last there was someone who appreciated his knowledge and rhetoric, who listened intently to his opinion.

"I would like to be like Rhaenys in the future." She said softly and he looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

"Rhaenys? What's interesting about her? Visenya could fight with a sword and she rode the largest dragon still alive in this world. If I had a choice, I would marry her." He said without thinking, recognising that it would be wonderful to have by his side a woman who could wield a sword perfectly, with a sharp tongue and temperament, who would be a born warrior like him.

He saw his niece raise an eyebrow in amusement, a sort of childlike joy on her face, her eyes shining.

"Aegon the Conqueror thought otherwise. Out of ten nights, nine he spent with Rhaenys." She said mockingly, as if immensely pleased that she could take the argument out of his hand. He pressed his lips together at her remark and shrugged his shoulders, returning to his reading.

He didn't care what men and women did at night − his mother had told him that he shouldn't bother with it for the time being, and he had decided that there was in fact no need to, until his father called on him one morning.

"− no −" He heard his mother's voice, leaning over the table where the tired King sat, looking at her as if half asleep. "− I do not agree, Viserys, it's not −"

She did not finish, hearing his footsteps and folded her arms in front of her, trying to calm herself, letting out a loud breath. His father nodded at him to come closer, which he did obediently, feeling his heart pounding hard.

His father had never yet called on him on any serious matter.

"I have just been discussing with your mother the importance of our family, of our kingdom remaining united. Although I have agreed that, according to tradition, your sister should marry your brother and not your nephew, I would like you to be the one to bring House Targaryen together anew, and that you should marry the daughter of Rhaenyra and Laenor in the future." He said calmly, with each finished sentence tapping his fingers on the table top, as if to add some finality and certainty to his words that he was convinced this was the right thing to do.

"− this is ridiculous − Aemond should secure our kingdom with a marriage to the daughter of one of the lords who can benefit us −" His mother began impatiently, her husband sighed loudly, exhausted.

"And who should receive this honour? The Starks? The Arryns? The Baratheons? No choice would be good, for someone would always feel disadvantaged. Marriage within the family will not outrage anyone on the outside, and will only strengthen what has been strained." He said with conviction; the Queen swallowed hard, shaking her head, finally looking at him as if she was certain he abhorred the idea as much as she did.

"− Aemond, you don't have to agree −" She said in a trembling voice, and he swallowed hard, looking at the stone floor beneath his feet, feeling his heart pounding hard.

Bastard or not, the dragon's blood flowed in her, as it did in him. She didn't despise or mistreat him. She knew what duty and obligation meant.

He reasoned that although he would have preferred to have a female warrior by his side, in fact the idea of marrying her did not reject him. He preferred her to the daughter of some common lord.

In his own way, he even liked her.

He grunted, feeling proud to rise to the occasion and fulfil his father's desire.

"If it is my King's wish, I will marry her, for the sake of the kingdom and our family." He said lowly, looking him straight in the eyes, standing upright, his hands folded behind his back.

He felt a squeeze in his throat as his father smiled at him sincerely, for the first and last time in his life.

"So it's decided."

He didn't know how the message had been conveyed to his betrothed, however he could see by the look on her face as she ran into the library, all red with emotion, that someone had made her aware of what had happened and he felt a twist in his stomach at the thought.

He was afraid she would make it clear to him that she didn't want him, that she abhorred him, that she had no intention of marrying a man who didn't have a dragon of his own.

As she approached him however her eyes sparkled, she laughed as if she didn't believe it.

"Is it true?" She asked breathing loudly and he swallowed hard, nodding his head, looking at her with wide eyes.

"I'm so happy." She giggled sweetly, warmly, covering her mouth with her hand, as if someone had just given her a wonderful surprise.

He felt some kind of heat in his chest, an affection towards her, a gratitude for her faithfulness, for her devotion, for the fact that she respected him.

He was shocked to think that she would make a good wife.

Aegon laughed at him, not understanding where his lack of objection came from, how he could think that good had happened.

"She doesn't even have an arse or tits." He sneered and he clenched his jaw, wrinkling his brow, looking at him over his shoulder.

"Shut your mouth. Don't speak about her this way." He growled, feeling that her good name was now his as well, and that he had to protect her.

Aegon snorted, shaking his head, patting him on the back piteously.

"My little brother fell in love with Lady Strong?" He asked, forcing himself into a sweet, mocking tone as if he were speaking to a small child, which angered him even more. He slammed his head against his forehead, and he swore in pain, staggering backwards, catching the table, which fell over with him.

"You fucking bastard!" He shouted throwing himself at him, and they began to pound each other with their fists, wrestling with each other on the floor, until, hearing the commotion, a servant girl rushed into his chamber, trying to separate them.

His future wife visited him in his chamber that day, concerned that he had not appeared in the library, raising her eyebrows in simultaneous concern and amusement as she saw him holding an ice cube to his red cheek, a large bruise under his eye.

"What's happened?" She asked as she was accustomed to, without any pleasantries, approaching him sitting in a chair that was, however, too big and his legs did not reach the ground. He just rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders without answering.

He had no intention of revealing what had caused the fight − he wasn't going to appear to her as a prince on a white horse who would worship and adore her, as in all those poems she had surely read.

"Does it hurt a lot?" She asked further, and he shook his head. She sighed heavily, taking a single lemon cake from the pocket of her bottom gown, placing it in front of him.

"I know the Queen only allows you to eat sweets after your weekly visit to the Great Sept, but I stole one for you anyway. As a consolation." She said proudly, and he nodded, lifting his gaze to her, involuntarily feeling grateful.

She cared for him without wanting anything in return.

Since they were betrothed, she hadn't asked him for solitary walks, gifts, confessions of love or anything else a lady of her status might desire from the man she was to marry.

"Thank you." He replied calmly, recognising that he could give her at least that much.

She looked around his chamber and he realised that she was in it for the first time in her life. He stood up, setting the ice sack down in the bowl, walking over to his bookshelf, a gift to him from his mother.

"If you wish, I can lend you some. Just pick which one." He said softly, coming to the conclusion that he wanted to be kind to her, that he wanted her to have no regrets about him becoming her husband, to be proud of it.

She looked at him gratefully and took out a book written by the ancient philosopher, Areon, dissecting human dignity and duty. Something about her choice pleased him, the thought that she wanted to understand him.

She pressed the book to her heart and looked at him, her eyes seemed even bigger to him than usual, her beautiful long eyelashes, hair and plump lips shone in the summer light of the day.

He felt a pleasant tickle in his lower abdomen watching her without saying a word.

"– can I kiss you? –" She asked so quietly that for a moment he thought he had overheard himself. He felt his whole body tense up as his pupils dilate in disbelief, his fingers involuntarily began to rub against each other in a subconscious nervous reflex.

Oh gods.

Should they be doing this?

Was this the right thing to do?

She was supposed to be his wife. From what he understood, husbands and wives did this, as a kind of union and intimacy.

He swallowed loudly, looking at her lips, thinking they looked pleasantly warm and soft; a shiver went through him at the thought that he could feel them in a moment if he wanted to.

He nodded his head.

He watched her vigilantly, involuntarily breathing through his mouth as she stepped closer to him; he was taller than her and leaned in slightly, wanting to make her task easier.

She surprised him when she suddenly lifted up on her tiptoes and her lips pressed against his in a warm, innocent kiss − he felt like his heart had stopped for a moment, the scent of vanilla filled his lungs, her skin delightfully moist and soft.

It felt so pleasant.

She pulled away from him immediately, all red as he was, breathing hard, as if it took a lot of effort and courage from her too, her wide eyes looked at him in excitement, as if she was waiting for his reaction.

"– one more time –"

These words came out of him like a weak whisper, like a plea through which he felt the shame overpowering him.

She smiled before rising on her toes again, this time placing her hand on his shoulders for balance − she pressed her fleshy, moist lips to his for a longer time and sighed softly as he touched her cheek, wonderfully soft and warm.

She pulled away from him with a quiet click and closed her eyes feeling him stroke her skin with his thumb. He pressed his forehead against hers, feeling butterflies in his stomach.

"– will you come to me at night? –"

He had nightmares most of the time at night − usually dreams in which he saw anew the pig that his brother and nephews had introduced to him as his dragon, humiliating him as no one had ever done before.

He found that her presence calmed him and that perhaps if she slept in the same bed, he would finally get some rest.

He didn't think about the fact that it might have been at least inappropriate in the eyes of others when under the cover of night she snuck into his chamber, slipping under the thick furs beside him, snuggling up to him. In his mind she was already his wife, and wives slept with their husbands − unless it was his parents.

They lay that night looking at each other with their foreheads pressed together, stroking each other's cheeks, shy and embarrassed.

Their wordless, innocent confession of affection and need for closeness.

"We are going to have seven children." He stated after some thought, as if he had decided that such a number would satisfy him. He wanted his family to be strong and broad, and also seven were gods, so it had symbolic meaning as well.

She blinked, as if something troubled her in his words, furrowing her brow.

"My mother gets very tired during childbirth and then can't get up for a few days. With the rest, how do we do it?" She asked uncertainly and he shrugged his shoulders.

He had never delved into the ins and outs of the pleasures of the flesh too much − Aegon had said that rapprochements with women were very pleasurable and, as he understood, that was why he couldn't pull away from them, to him, however, what he had was enough.

"We'll find out everything when we're older. Do not fret." He said with certainty, stroking her soft, plump cheek with his thumb. She cheered up, he saw the sparkle in her gaze before her lips stole a soft, warm kiss from him again.

He smiled at the thought that he felt that in her eyes he was a man, the head of their future family.

There had been times when he had forgotten who she was, who her father was, her smile, her laugh, her eyes, the sweet kisses she bestowed on him when they were alone made him think it didn't matter anymore.

Years later, he could not believe how wrong he was.

______

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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springgirlshowers · 3 months ago

Text

Begrijp je me?

Summary: You’ve got a problem with going quiet when you’re upset. Joost has a solution of comforting you.

WC: 1029

When you got annoyed or angry with someone or something, you had a tendency to go quiet.

Whenever a person would piss you off or you couldn’t get something to work the way you needed it to, you would completely shut down.

Whatever it was; multiple rude customers at work, cancelled plans you were actually looking forward to, arguments, being late to something, your computer or phone constantly glitching out, having a stressfully busy day, etc.

You’d end up talking to anyone for hours, usually just sitting alone, going on your phone or reading or watching your favorite show to make you feel somewhat better.

Of course, you would talk about it, going on rants about whatever pissed you off. However, Joost would never push you into talking about whatever bothered you when you didn’t want to. He knew it would only make you angrier.

And he understood. Even when he was the one who pissed you off and you gave him the silent treatment, he understood. He’s gotten like that before too.

So, he’d just leave you alone and try not to ask you too many questions, knowing all you wanted was complete silence.

Today you had a particularly stressful day. You ended up nearly missing an important appointment, your manager was getting all on your ass at work, you accidentally burnt your hand, and got yelled at by a customer.

As soon as you got home, Joost knew you didn’t have a good day with the way you slammed the door shut, kicked your shoes off, threw your bag down, and marched into the bedroom.

You changed out your work clothes and into pajamas even though it was only three o’clock. Sitting for a moment on the bed to try and calm down a bit.

While you changed, Joost noted this should be the time to put in earbuds while he worked on and edited his latest music video. Making sure the volume wasn’t loud enough to the point you could hear it coming out his earbuds.

You came out the room and flopped down on the other side of the couch, Joost and you looked at each other. You only shook your head with a scowl on your face, rubbing your hands down your face.

This was your quiet communication that you were having a shitty day, that you felt like shit. He gave you a sympathetic frown.

You opened your phone and he went back to his laptop. You scrolled through your apps for a while. Joost decided this was his moment to try and attempt to cheer you up just a bit.

He sent you a silly cat meme he saved earlier on Instagram. He secretly waited and watched you open the notification, letting you watch the video.

Some relief washed over him when he saw the way your lips curled up at the meme, seeing you double tap the screen and like it.

He smiled to himself, going back to the laptop sitting on the small table in front of him.

It was a few more minutes before you put your phone down, crawling over to him on the couch and snuggling into his side. He welcomed you, wrapping his arm around you.

He took one earbud out, looking at your face.

“Feeling any better?” He squeezed your arm.

“A bit. Still annoyed somewhat.” You muttered out.

“Bad day at work?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He tried to keep the questions to a minimum.

“Not really. I think I’ll just get mad again. Maybe later.” You shuffled closer to him, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Is this the Antwoord music video?” You lazily pointed to his laptop, trying to turn your attention away from your frustration that was still lingering.

“Yeah, I’ve got a little bit of the editing for it done. I’m trying to finish it before Saturday.” He said happily.

“Can I see?” You asked, preparing for him to say no. You knew he didn’t like to show anything to anyone until he had it exactly the way he wanted.

But he felt bad that you were upset, if it took your mind off your frustrations, then he’d show you the bit he had done.

“It needs some work.” He unplugged his earbuds from the computer, scrolling back to the beginning of the video.

The repeated lyrics felt like punch in the gut.

Begrijp je me? Begrijp je me?

Begrijp je me of begrijp je me niet?

Joost understood you so well. He could read you like a book. Sometimes Joost was a bit of a closed book. But you still knew things that he would share with no one else.

You hoped he knew you understood him as much as he understood you.

By the end of the hook he paused the video, signaling that’s all he had done.

He looked at you nervously, waiting for your rating of it.

“I liked it, I think it’s just fine.” You gave him a smile, his heart fluttered knowing your bad mood was melting away by the second

“Really? Or are you just saying that because you’re my girlfriend?” He mumbled, you rolled your eyes playfully.

“It’s very fast. Fast paced, I like it.” You nodded, head shifting against his shirt. “You looked cute in it too.”

“I always look cute to you.”

“Cause you are!” You exclaimed. Joost felt flooded with relief, seeing that your annoyed mood was taken over by contentment.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m gonna keep working on it, are you okay if I don’t keep the earbuds in?” You nodded against his chest.

You watched as he edited clips, playing them over and over, rearranging them, and adding effects.

Your eyelids became to feel heavy, you kept yawing.

“I’m gonna take a nap.” You mumbled. You shifted down a bit, laying your head down on his lap. He moved the small table his computer was to the side, giving you space for your head.

He brushed a hand through your hair, stopping a little bit after he noticed you passed out, lips slightly parting and chest going up and down smoothly. He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head and letting you sleep.

#joost klein x reader #joost klein fanfic #joost klein fic #joost x reader #joost klein x fem!reader

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redroomreflections · 3 months ago

Text

Coming Home

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Gentle Hands Universe

Summary: Natasha comes home

W/c: 2k

The door creaked open softly, almost too quietly to be noticed, but you heard it—Natasha’s unmistakable presence filling the air like a wave of relief washing over you. You had waited for this moment for weeks, counting down the days until she would return, and now she was finally home. Though the tiredness seeping in your bones kept you from moving from your cozy spot on the couch. You drifted in and out of sleep, hoping to awaken whenever she came in.

Unlike before, when the sound of a door opening would fill you with dread, Natasha’s return was different. She always came home quietly, mindful of the girls—of you. She understood that late at night, Kaia’s sleep was fragile, that loud footsteps or slamming doors could wake her and unravel the calm of your evening. But it wasn’t just the silence Natasha brought; it was the care.

Keith had never been like that. You remembered how he’d come home loud and careless, throwing the door open with no regard for the sleeping child down the hall or for you, who would often be scrambling to pick up the pieces of a long day. Some nights, he wouldn’t even acknowledge you. No "hello," no "I missed you"—just his presence, heavy and indifferent, filling the space without offering comfort.

It wasn’t always the volume of his arrival that bothered you; it was the disregard. The way he could walk into the room and pass you by as if you were invisible, as if your exhaustion and efforts went unseen. There were nights when he’d come home, flop onto the couch, and leave you to finish the endless tasks of caring for Kaia without even a glance in your direction. The silence between you wasn’t peaceful—it was suffocating.

But Natasha… Natasha knew. She recognized your triggers, your unease, the way you tensed when the door opened, half-expecting that same disregard to greet you. And she made the effort. When she came home, she was thoughtful. Careful. Considerate.

Tonight was no different.

The door inched open slowly, the wood creaking gently, and through the crack, a figure crept. She stood in the doorway, her silhouette softened by the dim light of the table lamp, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. You were curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your lap, Kaia’s favorite stuffed animal clutched loosely in your hand, with Kaia's head in your lap. Brynn had finally gone down for the night, and Kaia had fallen asleep in your arms an hour ago after insisting that she "stay up until Mommy comes home." You hadn't anticipated falling asleep too.

She closed the distance between you, kneeling to see the Lilo and Stitch band-aids adorning Kaia's arms and forehead.

"Hey," Natasha said quietly, stroking your hand to wake you.

You stirred, your eyes opening to the sight of her face, the red hair hanging loose around her shoulders. A soft smile spread across your lips, and you whispered, "You're home." You looked around, trying to find your bearings and then remembering.

Natasha smiled. "I’m home," she replied softly, her voice a balm to your heart. She brought your hand to her lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as her thumb gently brushed over your skin. "I’ve missed you so much."

She glanced at Kaia and asked, "Is she okay?"

You nodded. "She fell off her bike earlier. Nothing too serious. A couple of scrapes and bumps that she will be excited to tell you about. I told Sam she was too little for that thing."

"Poor baby," Natasha said sympathetically, leaning down to press a kiss to Kaia's temple. Then she sat back on her heels, meeting your gaze. "I'm glad you're both okay."

"Do you need a moment?" You questioned.

"No, I showered at the compound," She shook her head. "Just need to get out of these clothes."

She rose, and you followed, laying Kaia's head on the cushion. Natasha helped you slip out from under her, tucking the blanket in around her and leaving a kiss on her cheek before leading you into the bedroom. She stripped out of her outfit, her movements slow and precise, and then pulled on one of her own shirts.

"Sorry I fell asleep," you told her, "I was going to wait up."

"You had a long day. Don't worry about it," she reassured, "It's nice to see the two of you curled up on the couch."

You smiled, the image bringing joy to your mind.

"How were the girls?" She asked as turned to you.

"They were good," You said softly, stroking a stray hair from Natasha’s forehead. "Kaia had a bit of a meltdown when you left, but Wanda and Pepper were lifesavers. Brynn has been saying 'Mommy' every time she hears the door. They’ve missed you."

Natasha frowned, her shoulders sagging. "I'm sorry."

You cupped her cheeks, your touch drawing her attention.

"No, it's fine," You reassured, "We just missed you. That's all."

Natasha nodded and kissed your forehead. She wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you close.

"Mmm," She hummed, delighting in your scent. She nuzzled your neck before kissing it. "I love you."

"I love you too," You told her, your hands running down her back. You kissed her jaw, then her cheek, and then her nose, before capturing her lips.

Natasha kissed you slowly, and gently, savoring your taste. Her hands slid down your sides, her fingers hooking in your waistband, and her thumbs traced the skin of your back.

"Mama!" Kaia called from the living room.

Natasha sighed, her lips curving into a pout, and pressed her forehead to yours.

"Mommy's home," You cooed, pecking her lips before walking toward the living room, where Kaia was now sitting up, rubbing her eyes.

"I am still tired," Kaia whined.

You knelt on the floor beside her, pulling her into your arms, and whispered, "I'm sorry if I woke you."

"You didn't wake me, Mama," Kaia said sleepily, hugging you.

"Are you sure?" You asked.

"Uh-huh."

"Good, because I think Mommy is waiting to hear all about the bike ride and your band-aids," You reminded, and Kaia looked up excitedly, her sleepy demeanor forgotten. "She's here."

"Where is she?" Kaia questioned.

You smiled and looked up to see Natasha in the doorway.

"Right here," Natasha said, and Kaia's face lit up.

"Mommy!" She exclaimed, squirming out of your arms. She jumped off the couch and ran to her, and Natasha picked her up, spinning her around. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, my sweet girl," Natasha replied, kissing her cheek.

"Mommy, I do have so many bandaids," Kaia pointed to the one on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow. "One, two, three, four, five! I fell off my bike. I didn’t even cry though. "

"That's a lot of bandaids," Natasha remarked.

"And Mama said that I was really brave," Kaia continued.

"Of course, you were," Natasha agreed, and Kaia smiled.

"You gonna stay here now?"

"Yes," Natasha nodded, "I'm here. No more missions."

"Okay," Kaia hugged her tightly. "I'm glad."

Natasha's heart swelled with affection, and she kissed her again. "Let's get you to bed."

Kaia nodded, her arms wrapped around Natasha's neck. She looked at you and asked, "Can I sleep with you and Mommy tonight?"

"Of course," You nodded, rising to your feet. You followed them into the bedroom and climbed into the bed, and Kaia scrambled over Natasha to take the spot between you. She curled up against you, and you kissed her head.

"I love you," You whispered. Before either of you could think about closing your eyes, a soft whimper was heard over the baby monitor.

"She's awake," Kaia observed.

"It's okay, Kaia. We can take care of her," Natasha said, rising from the bed. "I'll go get her."

"I'm coming," Kaia decided, slipping out from under the covers and running into the nursery.

You watched her go, your heart feeling full, and then looked up at Natasha. "Thank you."

"For what?" She asked, sitting down on the bed beside you.

"For being here," You told her, kissing her gently.

She smiled. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." She said before she disappeared into the nursery. A few moments later, she came back with Brynn in her arms and Kaia hot on her tail. Brynn immediately reached for you, tapping at your shirt in question, before squeezing her hands open and closed.

"Okay, okay," You chuckled, taking her from Natasha. You pulled up your shirt and lifted her to your breast, and she latched on eagerly, sucking hungrily. You stroked her dark hair and then looked up at Natasha.

"Mama's so pretty right?" Natasha murmured as Kaia placed herself on her lap. It felt so right seeing the two of them watching you curiously. "And she's feeding our baby," Natasha said proudly, "What could be more beautiful than that?"

"You flatter me,"

"Well, it's true," She said.

"Mommy?" Kaia asked. "Did you catch all the bad guys?"

"I did," Natasha told her.

"Did they give you any booboos?" Kaia questioned.

"No, but it did take a lot of work."

"Like what?"

"Well, I'll tell you when you're older," Natasha reasoned.

"I'm older," Kaia argued, "I'm almost three years old!"

"When you're four."

"That's a long time from now."

"It'll fly by," You promised, and Kaia groaned.

"I don't wanna wait."

"You can wait," You said.

"Why?"

"Because sometimes things are hard to hear, and sometimes it's better to wait," You explained.

"Oh," Kaia looked up at Natasha. "Do you have hard things?"

"Everybody has hard things," Natasha answered.

"So do I," Kaia decided, "I have hard things."

"Like what?" You echoed her question form earlier.

"I don't know," Kaia said.

You smiled.

"That's okay, my sweet girl. Maybe you'll think of one," You said, "But for now, let's all get some sleep."

"Okay, Mama," Kaia nodded, and you handed Brynn to Natasha.

"Will you burp her for me, please?"

"Of course," Natasha took her.

You and Kaia settled down beneath the covers, and once Natasha was finished, she joined you.

"Do you think she'll be asleep soon?" Kaia whispered, looking up at her.

"I don't know, honey. But if she doesn't fall asleep, we can take care of her."

"Okay," Kaia said, "Because I think I'm tired."

"Go ahead and close your eyes," Natasha encouraged, and Kaia obeyed. She rolled over, curling up against you, and you held her close. Brynn rested her cheek on Natasha's chest, her lashes fluttering, as she looked over at you. She was moments away from falling asleep too.

You were surrounded by the ones you loved most. The girls had grown so much in the past year, and so had your relationship with Natasha. She was always there, a constant presence, and even when she was away, her love never failed.

She was different than Keith—she cared, she listened, and she loved. And even after all the pain he caused, all the damage, you wouldn't trade a single moment for a world where you didn't have the girls or her.

#natasha romanoff #black reader #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you #gentlehandsau

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pedge-page · 6 months ago

Note

Baby Sarah and Joel playing tug of war over the tv remote has to be the funniest thing ever , Joel watching tv one night and the remote is resting on the coffee table and the channel randomly changes and he turns to see Sarah just pressing buttons then joel immediately takes it to change the channel back and the brat fusses and tries slapping Joel’s hands and biting even having to get reader involved in the mix

Joel Dealing with Sarah: Theatrics

warnings: none :)

- - - -

Joel is fucking exhausted. Yeah he says that a lot, but damnit, that’s what happens when you have a pregnant monster for 9 months and then a whole ass baby monster for the next year!

You had gone to bed right after dinner with little Sarah. There may have been a debacle about Joel buying the wrong flavor of chocolate chip cookies despite you specifically saying regular chocolate chip earlier. He grabbed the raisins by mistake, and now he’s condemned to the couch (for the next hour or so till you’re out cold and won’t remember whether he was in bed with you or not).

It works out, though. He sighs heavily, propping one foot then the other over the coffee table with his cup of decaffeinated tea. The house is quiet for once. He gets alone time for once.

Scrolling through the saved tapes on the DVR, he finally finds the last home renovation episodes he’s missed these past few weeks. He chucks the remote somewhere, sits back, and turns his brain off for some quality Joel time.

The poorly acting woman goes on about the gorgeously boring white paint they’re gonna splash over the entire kitchen when suddenly the Jigsaw puppet creepy thing jumps on the screen and nearly sends Joel over the couch with a heart attack.

He looks around for the damn remote he must have nudged with his thigh when he spots his diapered one year old sitting upright next to him, the remote the size of her entire arm sitting in her lap with both hands on the bottoms.

“Jesus—fuck kid. Where did you come from???” He whispers, looking around wondering if you put her here mysteriously without being noticed.

Sarah smiles with her gummy mouth like she’s not at all disturbed by the contents of the TV.

“Aight kid, gimme the remote, it’s not a toy—“ as he reaches for the devices, she yanks it back furthest away from him.

“Hey! Listen to me right now—“ he leans further, his arm outstretched in front—when she clamps down with her little gums.

“AY! SARAH! NO bitting!” He grits his teeth and reaches again but Sarah whines and slaps his bitten hand repeatedly with the remote. He manages to push a button, but she snatches it right back and hits another. The TV flashes between channels, volumes and mute, and different inputs like its having seizure as Joel and Sarah loudly grunt and whine at each other, tugging it back and forth.

Joel’s partially amazed at the incredible gripper strength she has on the remote, refusing the let it part from her tiny fingers that are latched on law claws. That, and the fact that she’s pulling enough strength that he isn’t sending her flying over his shoulder is making him wonder what kind of muscle milk you must be feeding her.

“Let GO!” He shouts, his arm straining with one hand on the remote, but she puts that big back in it and is yanking back towards her way with both of her baby paws tightly secured around its middle.

The TV is at full volume now, as are their angry growling at one another. So much that neither of them realize you had gotten up and were standing right behind the couch, rubbing your eyes viciously at the scene.

“WHAT—“

Joel and Sarah stop and turn, frightened by mom-zilla, who’s at her worst when she’s prematurely awaken.

“IS. GOING. ON.”

Joel opens his mouth, ready to get the little brat in trouble and have a shout when sneaky little Sarah immediately lets go of the remote and launches herself back, crying loudly. She makes heavy eye contact with you through tears and her pained wailing while rubbing her chunky arm, squeezing her little lids shut so that the tears fall fat across her puffy cheeks. All while Joel’s got the remote tightly gripped in his hand.

“Joel!” You rush to pick up your baby and cradle her to your chest, which she totally nuzzles into.

“I didn’t do anything!” He shouts incredulously, and perhaps a little too off tone because there’s no way you didn’t see her just fake her injury by pretending he hit her. “She’s faking it! You saw!”

On cue, Sarah screams harder into your shoulder, huffing up and down like she can’t catch her breath.

You wave your hand over to shush him. then you point to the couch. “Rest of the week. You. here.”

He bites his tongue hard as the two of you walk back to your bedroom. He catches the minx give a little glance back over your shoulder with a toothless grin.

If he could wring that child, he would. But he knows he’s gotta wait before he can start cooking her for real.

The theatrics of Sarah Miller are strong enough to rival your own.

- - - -

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#joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fluff #the last of us fluff #last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #last of us fic #joel and sarah #sarah miller #joel dealing with preggo wife

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theauthorunicorn · 1 year ago

Text

1 A.M. | Gojo Satoru

an unmistakable angst festering within me that I need to let out.

note: if i was to be asked what type of drabbles, fanfic that i could and would read in my lifetime, I'll choose angst, that undescribed feeling that you wanted to punch the wall and angrily shout at someone. anyway, enjoy! reblogs, comments and like is really appreciated :)

not proof read

word count: 1128 word (wow)

Gojo Satoru x Reader

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆

Satoru can't be explained in few words, if you can describe him, you'll be lost in your own words. Before, there were days that you only look at him, afar, adoring and silently loving him. But, for the past few years he is, was yours and you were his.

It didn't take long for him to fall in love with you, with his best friend out of the picture you gladly fill out the empty vastness within him. Shoko was there as well but you gave him the kind of attention that he needed that time.

For the past few months, you've been noticing the distance between the two of you. You assured yourself that you may be feeling this way since you've never seen each other and spent time together. Satoru also promises that the missions had been taking him to places and made him tired, so he'll just stay on his apartment to rest and will see you soon - this promise were also accompanied by mumbled I miss you and whispers of I love you's.

Late Saturday evening you're both watching the TV. You leaned comfortably in the sofa scanning the channels to land on a perfect show while Satoru was laying on your lap maybe asleep.

A long sigh broke the silence, "I'm sorry," you lowered down the volume, "I just can't find a good show."

He hummed in agreement, "Nah, your good." He said as he traced line over your skin.

"Do you think I changed?" Satoru asked without looking at you.

"What do you mean? Physically or what?" You played together with his antics.

"I mean, you spent a lot of time waiting for me and then I'll just call or text you that I will not be coming or even ditching our dates just because I was busy."

He noticed it too, "Uhm, I guess I understand your tired and missions had been longer and tiring, you know, so, I also try to understand it." You answered him.

"I just want you to know Y/N that I still feel the same way as when I first met you." He muttered. You can see that his trying to give you the assurance through his words that he can't physically show you.

But how long can you stay.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆

You're both standing face to face as you bit your lips as you hold on to your tears, "You know what Y/N sometimes, no, honestly you suffocate me!" Satoru shouted, "How many times did I told you that we were just out drinking and you're here at my house demanding why I did not spend time with you instead? I do get a chance to choose how I spend my time right? I did not sign up for being with you all the time. Fuck, you're so annoying and clingy."

Long arguments with Satoru had been frequent. You're hurt, his word hurt, his gaze towards you hurts everything right now with Satoru hurts. You look at him trying to compose yourself if you should yell at him too, slap him, punch his pretty face, or just say -

"I'm sorry Satoru," you sighed, "I should not come here and demand your attention," you said slowly, "Yeah, missions and stuff is always the priority, right? We need to do that. I understand and I'm really sorry about -"

He looked at you without any emotions, maybe even regret about earlier instead of stopping he continues, "I hate that sometimes I get sick of you, Y/N. Fuck." He curses. The last words he said was so cruel and potent.

"I'm sorry again, Gojo." You look at him one last time trying to hold your tears. "I better get going, you need to rest." You walked away from him with a deep sigh and tears falling on your cheeks. It's one a.m. he should be asking you to stay and fix this mess, but he didn't. You walked away from the man that you loved the most that you let him break your heart a thousand pieces.

Thirty minutes passed you arrive in your apartment you phone pings, "Text me if your home, Y/N." You read it as tears falling in your screen. You left Gojo on read.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆

You avoided Gojo after that night like a plague. Shoko asked you if everything was fine since Gojo had been asking about you through her. You simply smiled at her with hollow eyes and said that you just had a small argument with him, and everything is fine.

You lied to Shoko, and she knows that too.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆

A week after that night you are avoiding Gojo had come to an end. A meeting was arranged to all staff to discuss an important matter. You tried to prolong your current mission to miss the meeting but -

"The meeting won't start without you in it." Shoko said softly over the phone.

"Why?" You chuckled, "It's not that I'm that important. You can just take note the minutes and pass it along."

"Yeah, I tried to stall them, but everyone is here waiting for you. Nanami is annoyed why your ass is still not here, Y/N."

"Fuck." You curse, "I don't want to be there, -"

"Are you coming or not?" Satoru asked you as he snatched Shoko's phone, that's only the reason why you're hearing his voice after a week.

You sighed, "I am. I'm just finishing this. Tell them to give me 15 minutes and I'll be there." You answered plainly.

"Where are you? I could come and get you instead."

"No, no need. I'm done." You end the call.

You were panting as you run across the Jujutsu Tech. You know you're a mess, hair in a messy bun, a cut on your cheeks, a bruise in your arm and thighs.

You opened the door and all eyes on you, "This meeting better be so important that you all required me to sit in after a fucking mission." You rolled your eyes and grab the nearest chair to sit between Nanami and Shoko.

Gojo stood up and walked towards you, "Are you even okay, Y/N. We could let Shoko check you first -"

"No, I'm not okay Gojo," you hissed at him, "just fucking start this meeting so I could rest." You tried to smile sweetly at everyone.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆

"You are calling Satoru, Gojo is not heard for years, babe. What happened?" Shoko asked as you let her tend your injuries at her clinic.

"I'm just tired and that meeting could have been an email, you know, Kento even agrees." You motion to Nanami sitting across.

"And humor me, why Satoru is off limits here? He's like a stray cat outside waiting for you."

"Let him be."

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆

You walked out and thanked Shoko for her assistance. True to her words Gojo was there sitting like a stray cat waiting for you. You did not acknowledge his presence and walk on the opposite way to which he was sitting. He noticed you while closing the door but the lack of attention to him proves that you're not really talking to him.

Instead, he followed you through the halls of Jujutsu Tech and stopping as well when your students stopped and said hi to you.

"Y/N-sensei, how are you?" Nobara asked, "I heard that you were hurt, and they still let you attend a meeting." She pouted.

"I'm fine." You assured her, "and were still watching that movie tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay sensei, and why is Gojo-sensei following you like a lost cat." She whispers. You shrugged and smile and continue walking.

You can still hear his steps following you. You completely ignored him. You wanted to do this to let him taste his own medicine. You stopped your tracks and grabbed your phone to call a cab.

Gojo snatched your phone, "I already called one. Let's just wait for our ride here."

"What do you mean our ride? I'm going home to rest, I'm tired." You demand him to hand your phone back.

"Yeah, were going home -"

"What the fuck, Gojo." You snarled at him.

"It's Satoru, Toru, babe or baby for you, love." He corrected his own name.

"You're so self-centered, you know that don't act like you fucking love me when you fucking told me about many nights before that you're re sick of me, that I'm so annoying and you're tired. I'm tired right now so can you please leave me."

"I know I was self-centered that night and I got so mad and lost my cool but it's because I'm just tired. I wanted to talk to you, but you avoided me like a plague, I don't even know what you were up to. I had to check with Shoko or Nanami to check what are you doing. I hate myself for saying such cruel things to you, you know it's not true right? You know that I feel the same way for you every day, even if I failed to show it to you, it's still the same. My heart aches when I think about you. The things that I have said - I'm really sorry, love."

"How much longer do you want me to be in pain, Gojo?" You asked him.

"It's Satoru even if you're mad at me," he shakes his head, "what? I don't want you to be in pain."

Gojo saw your pretty eyes saying that everything is over, you and he are done but he denies it. Your indifferent now, cold and as if you're digging a grave to bury all the memories that you had with him. Gojo still denies it.

"We're done. I'm breaking up with you and you don't get a chance to say anything after what I've been through. I think about this for a past couple of days, Gojo. I'm done with you, I'm not sorry for this."

Gojo Satoru remained on his foot as he watched you walking away. Although all of him is breaking down because of you he doesn't have anything as of now to let you stay. But he knows deep down in this life, journey and world in which nothing last forever -

It's only you for him.

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dawnoftime22 · 28 days ago

Note

w the story u just wrote (just be here) maybe a part 2? where the reader is pushing away/snappy at tay orrr just another part in general :3

totally ok if not! i love your writing 💋💋🐈

look after you.

| T.S

Warnings: overstimulation (loud music w/ headphones, hot temperature), a bit of R breaking down, anxiety, taylor getting anxious of your relationship

Summary: After a week of numbness, you start distancing yourself from Taylor and saying some things you don't entirely mean. Taylor was just worried for you, but tries her best to find a way to you.

Word Count: 4.1k

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

A/N: you see what happens with me when I proofread is...it was 3.5k words. then it jumped up to 4k and I had to proofread again 😭 have fun everyone

Request A/N: you're lucky I had an extra photo I couldn't decide from the last one :P I thought tay looked too sad...but here<3

| Started on 14/11/2024, 11:26 PM |

| Finished on 21/11/2024, 5:30 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

Request Guidelines | Part One, 'just be here.'

"When I'm losing my control, the city spins around. You're the only one who knows to slow it down."

| ————————��—— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

You were staring out the window of the car, watching the buildings go by in a blur of time. Supposedly, you were going to stay at the park earlier today, but because it was so hot and humid outside, you had to cancel any plans of a sweet picnic date.

As the drive goes on, the car reflects through windows of botique shops and restaurants, showing it from the view of anyone outside.

In your mind, unprecedented feelings were swirling without a care. It was different from anything normal, but still as blank as your whole week has felt. It confused you. Your music was playing in your headphones as you try to distract yourself from the poking thorns going through your body, frustration threatening to break the walls of resistance.

The sun was striking through the clouds, blinding anyone who'd dare to look up. You were sure fate was laughing in your face by making the overwhelming feeling worse.

All you wanted to do was go back home. That was it. To be back in your bedroom, curled up, stowed away, casted away. Anything.

The more that time went by, Taylor was starting to notice the quietness that overlayed the drive. There was music playing on low volume by the speakers, and you were usually a quiet person, but the way you had your headphones on made her concerns grow.

She could see how glued your eyes were to the window. You didn't even move or sing to one of her songs that had come up in the car, which was all the more worrying. You were her biggest fan, but you most probably had the entire world blocked out by now.

"Baby? You okay there?" she calls softly over the music, turning it down until it was barely audible. You heard her, but you didn't respond or turn to look.

Her eyes flicker over to you for a moment, but she needed to focus on her driving. You kept your eyes on the window, starting to wish she won't even try to speak to you again just so you didn't have to try to explain.

But eventually, the car comes to a gentle stop at a red light, and she turns her head to look at you. She tries again, even softer this time. "...Sweetheart?"

Her teeth sank into her lip. She thought, maybe you had your music on too loud; because you had a tendecy to do that whenever you had trouble with your mind.

She runs through it in her mind for a moment, hesitating to intrude, but soon she reaches out, going to give two gentle taps on your shoulder. You felt it, but you leaned away, tensing as you keep your eyes on the window.

Without missing a second, her eyebrows furrow, now confirming that you heard her, but you were ignoring her. The situation was growing entirely alarming.

Her mind reels, but she leans back into her original position, her eyes focusing on the roads. Here and there, she'll check on you, trying to make sure you were alright— at least physically.

By the time she was driving along the familiar roads of your neighbourhood, where you lived together in one house, she thought to decide at least one more time.

She took in a breath to only sigh it out quickly. "We're almost home, baby..." she murmurs softly, trying to find chance for the smallest movement.

Your shoulders lowered...just a little, but it was more you slumping into the seat than relaxing. Right after, a grumble mixed in with a whine came as a response. Her eyes flickered to you, just for a moment.

"You look lost today, sweetheart..." she says in a mere whisper. The little shift in your leg had spoken thousands of words more than the quietness thats been passing.

Her teeth bit her lip, deeper this time. "Is there anything you want me to do? Like...a hug? A kiss? Or...we can stop by your favorite bakery..." she murmurs softly. Her eyes travel the area, recognizing the little delicious bakery right around the corner.

You bit your lip, your shoulders tensing as you kept your eyes firmly on the window. There was an odd feeling to let her sentence pass again, but the silence hung too uncomfortably in the air. The fact that you even thought to ignore her was tormenting.

What even was the word to it?...Tired. You were just tired. But it wasn't that kind of tiredness, or even the physical— it was just because your emotions felt like they were on the brink of cracking out and your heart and mind was dazed trying to fight it.

"I don't...need anything...just send me home." you mumbled with a slight edge, feeling the spite in your chest rise all the more. You were growing to only hate yourself if anything, instead of her.

The arrangement of words still bit her in her heart. 'Send you home,' as if she was only dropping you off somewhere instead of going home with you.

"Is there something you're mad at, baby?" she questions softly, but the words she spilled weren't meant to come out so...direct. She nearly wronged herself of her own suddenness.

Your mind stuck on her sentence. You could tell she was anxious just by the way her finger was tapping on the steering wheel. Of course you weren't mad. Well, you were, but not at her.

"No, stop, its nothing...I'm fine." You try to sound assuring, but you were sure your tone sounded too ignorant. Ironically, the both of you were worrying over your tones.

Taylor stays quiet for a moment. "...Are you sure?" She sounded softer. All you could do was shrink into your seat. You wanted to curl your legs up only to remember you were wearing your shoes.

"Yeah, just..." you slowly sighed in a near huff, crossing your arms, looking further back away to the view outside.

You knew it was what some considered to be 'wrong,' acting this way. But you felt overwhelmed. Too much going on to explain, even if it looks like nothing on the outside.

The sun was lowering further on the horizon, and she was soon nearing your shared home. After a moment, she slowly turns the car into the driveway, parking gently.

When you felt the car fully stop, you shifted your position up a little more. She gathered her things, glancing to you, but only to see you unbuckle your seatbelt and grab your phone, opening the car door.

Taylor swallowed down her fears. For a moment, all she had was the silence. All she's ever had was exactly that throughout the drive, but now it was even worse.

Soon, she follows after you, turning off the engine to get out. And of course, she held the keys to the house, so you were waiting at the porch for her, looking down and nibbling at your lip.

As she walks, she fishes the keys out from her pocket, finding the one for the front door.

She didn't want to start anything outside, so she steps on the porch beside you and unlocked the door first, twisting the key to then gently push it open.

Before she could even fully open it, you weaved yourself in from the gap between her and the door. She felt your shoulders brush, but she takes in a breath to calm herself, and slid the key out so she could step in. The door closes behind her.

Her eyes flicker to you in concern. "Baby," she started, watching you get your shoes off. But right after you took your socks off, you went to turn around. She hadn't seen you look at her even once in the past few minutes.

"Hey." She reaches her hand out, gently going to stop you from taking any more steps with her fingers embracing your wrist. You paused, freezing at the warmth.

"We need to talk." Her voice was soft. Softer than the music that was playing in your ears, and oddly she didn't sound mad at all.

A lump was in your throat. "I told you, I'm fine, Taylor." You nearly turned to look over your shoulder. But you looked down instead. Taylor took one step forward, wanting to be closer to you, but not pushing your space.

"It doesn't seem like it ever since we got in the car," she whispers, her hand on your wrist slipping down to your fingers, intertwining them.

She looks into your expression, tilting her head to try and see your face fully. She could see a glistening look in your eyes, and the slightest hint of red in your nose.

"Please." she breathed out. The silence was deafening, and cut the both of you to the core. Your mind was too scattered to speak, and you were trying your hardest to not break right then and there.

But you gently slip your hand out from hers, and she watches as you walked away, your path making its way to the bedroom.

There was a will for her to say something, to call you back, but there was a sign that you needed some kind of space alone after all that, and especially after you spent the time in the car, a place you disliked sitting in.

Even if she wanted to desperately know what the matter was, she didn't want to force you, or overwhelm you up to a certain tipping point.

Deciding to let it go, she sighs softly and goes to the couch. She hadn't even taken her shoes off until now, leaning down to slip them off her feet. It gave her relief as it felt suffocating earlier, but her heart wasn't spared any relief.

When she sat down, she felt a brush of fur against her skin. She nearly jumped, her head instantly looking to what met her arm. It was Meredith, looking at her curiously. She hadn't even noticed her there. Thankfully, she hadn't sat on her cat.

She breathes out the exhaustion in her lungs and leans back against the couch. Her hands cover her face, trying to make sense of it all. Then, those hands run over her cheeks and eyes, right before she let them fall carelessly onto the couch.

After a second, she looks to Meredith. She was laying there with her green eyes and cute scottish fold ears. Taylor's lips pursed, and she reaches out, giving Meredith a gentle scratch atop her head. Her fur was so soft.

She decides to distract herself, leaning back and resting her eyes closed. But it was too quiet, even as her cat purred beside her. Of course she was kept company, but the company wasn't you.

A sigh escapes her mouth and she opens her eyes again, blinking away the fuzziness. Somehow, the blonde manages to grab out her phone. It unlocked as soon as it saw her face, and she looked through her photos of today, seeing one of you in the car earlier today, but you were laughing, looking at a bracelet she had made. At least, until the disappointment of your cancelled picnic.

Was that it? Did she disappoint you too much? Was she having a relationship fallout? Of course not. You loved her with all your soul, and when you needed to, you took your time comforting every inch of her heart as she did for you. Every smile shared was of pure sweetness. It wouldn't make sense for you to simply part from her, even if the fear was deep in her veins.

But then it clicked to her.

The line of connection rose up from when you were numb and dozing off all you could few days ago. You did seem like you were getting better, and she gave comfort every time a bad thought came to you, but it wasn't until now your emotions were coming in again. She worried, even if it should be good, the concerning part is you were snappy and pushing yourself away from her.

But then— this morning too, you had forgotten to bring your bag that usually goes over your chest, which always gave you feeling a sense of ease and safety with the weight of it. Knowing how much your body could feel too light without it, she offered you hers, but you waved her off, thinking it was silly.

When you walked in the park together, your hands were in your pockets, fiddling slightly. She hated the amount of heat the sun had, but you hated it even further. You were talking to each other fine, at least until you were walking back to the car. You got quieter, mindlessly looking down the path, seeming almost bored at everything, or trying to distract yourself from the hot temperature.

Whats even more worse was you woke up earlier than she had. It was understandable that you could have possibly felt overwhelmed— because as much as you loved cuddling, you hated how longer your day would feel, and sleep certainly wasnt an option because you had fully woken up by then.

She lets out a gentle breath, knowing she needed to get to you. There was no telling what could rise up, but all she wanted was to keep you safe. Keep you in comfort.

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The room was quiet. It was raining, and it's been raining a lot as of lately.

The ceiling fan was humming overhead like usual. The air was so cold, your leg had to seek warmth under the folded covers.

But most of all, the room was dark. You couldn't get yourself to turn on the fairy lights hanging over the walls, even as the skies were gray, and the sun was starting to set, which only dimmed the daylight that spread in the room more. All you wanted was to sulk.

You hated it. Hated how much your mind was stirring up every bad thought you could ever have. Like you were blaming yourself for everything that ever happened, but you were also so extremely angry at everything else. It was a duel of two.

What exactly was that 'everything else' was? Well, really, the only thing you could focus on was the crazy temperature change that bugged your mind, going from the sunny, sweaty weather, then straight to what should be a perfect, cozy rain, but the cold was just too cold. There was no in between. You were sure the world might be ending at this point.

The interactions with Taylor kept reeling in your mind. It was like pages of a book flipping over and over, but it had the same memory showing. It was tiring, it was consuming you enough to send you into a spiral.

A sigh left your lips, and you buried your face into your hands. You wished the warmth you felt was the crook of Taylor's neck.

Oh, god, she was probably so mad at you. Blaming you back just as your mind was. What were you to do? The way you ignored her was outright cruel. You shouldn't have even done such a thing. Why hadn't you spoken about it? Well, there was no way she could have understood in the moment.

Right as your thoughts were going back and forth, a gentle creak came from the door behind you.

Taylor stood there, gently opening it to see you. There you were. She lets out a breath in relief, just a little, but there was no doubt that worry coursed through her mind when she saw how dark the room was. You clearly soaked all the gloomy atmosphere that you could.

But she wasn't focused on that. She was more concerned about the sight of you. You were just about curled up into a ball, like a cat frightened, but in the centre of the bed. Your arms hugged your legs and your head rested on your knees, staring out into the sheets of the bed.

"Baby?" she whispers out softly. That sweet nickname she always uses for you uttered out her lips without difficulty. You turned your head ever so slightly, your hand tightening in on itself as your fingers furled into your jeans.

When Taylor notices the movement and sees just the smallest glimpse of your face, she takes a step forward to be closer. You tensed a little, slowly slumping forward to your knees.

A gentle sigh escapes her lips, and she carefully went to sit down beside you, the bed dipping with her.

"Baby...whatever it is, I'm sorry, okay? I just...want you beside me again." Taylor says softly. Her voice was a near whisper, to softly get you back to her, as if any longer, you'd disappear in the blink of an eye. Your eyes squeezed in guilt at her words.

"Its none of your fault, Tay, I promise..." you whisper, the words stumbling over each other in the pace it came out. Taylor bit her lip gently.

She was hesitant, but she wanted to help soften the situation. "Okay, but is it...because we couldn't have a picnic earlier, sweetheart?" she asks. You divert your gaze off to the bed, frowning a little in hesitance as you thought about it. It was part of the reason, but not entirely. Even you couldn't tell what was wrong. All you knew is that you hated it.

You then reply by giving her a shake of your head. She could see the gesture clearly, and doesn't press any more on the matter, but moves closer to you on the bed. Her arm brushed against yours.

A breathless exhale escapes your lips. You leaned into her. She didn't hesitate to wrap wrap her arms around you, keeping you warm. Relief ran through her when you let her hold you, and the same was going through yours, having missed her embrace. Of course she would be there for you just to love you as much as you deserved.

Your arms tighten around her, and your face buries into her chest. She closes her eyes, giving you a squeeze and nuzzling the top of your head.

After a bit, she could feel the headphones underneath her chin, and she leans back, looking to your eyes. "...Is this okay?" she whispers, lightly grasping your headphones. You gave her a nod, letting her take them off.

Once she set them aside, her hands return to you, but cupping your cheeks gently. She lets her mind wander, wanting to understand you. You look into her eyes, your lips downturned into a frown mixed with a pout. She then takes a gentle breath in.

"You're exhausted," her voice breathed out. Even if you had been numb, unable to feel your feelings, it wouldn't be surprising for anyone to feel overwhelmed and tired after it. Her thumbs gently caressed your cheeks. Your lips were a pout as you nod, insistently almost. You were extremely exhausted, too fed up of everything.

Your mouth opened, but you couldn't get your words out, and you exhaled sharply, leaning more into her. She held you closer, assuring you to take your time in her quietness.

"Its too much. I'm..." Your hand clenches into her shirt and you sighed. Noticing the struggle in you to speak, she gently rubs your back.

"Frustrated?" She suggests, trying to gently help finish your sentence as she tilts her head. She wishes she could have pieced the signs together sooner.

Another breath left you, and you turn your face out, just a little bit, going to grab her hand and holding it for a while. But it didn't take long for you to eventually fiddle with her fingers.

She can see the anxiety stirring up in your actions, and her eyes soften. "I know, baby...I get it," she whispers softly, her other hand returning to your back.

You relax into her hold, nuzzling closer into her as you felt the soothing movement like a warm blanket, covering you.

"Shh...I love you. You're safe with me," she murmurs, moving both you and her in the smallest rocking motion.

"I'm not mad at you, or anything. I promise, sweetheart, I was just worried, and I miss you," she reassures, her voice a whisper right next to your ear. You sniffle gently, feeling the swelling in your throat.

"I'm not going anywhere..." she could feel the skin of her neck getting stained by your built up emotions, all that was kept inside starting to overflow into her embrace.

You buried your face further, a couple tears leaving your eyes by their free will. "Just..." she starts quietly, in thought of her next words.

"Cuddle with me for a bit, hm?" she tilts her head, brushing your hair back from your face, and giving you a smile, even after everything thats happened that day.

You looked at her with gleaming eyes and a red tinted nose, nodding, having been wishing desperately for just a cuddle, but your thoughts were too tightly woven up together to have said anything any sooner.

She gently pulls you closer. You felt safe in her arms. You always did. As if they protected you from the rest of the world, and all its matters.

"I'm sorry I can't give you peace. I...first this numbness, and now this, I...don't even know, Tay," you whisper breathlessly, shakily, your shoulders were tense as the tears dampened her shirt.

Taylor held her lip, quiet for a moment before she rests her cheek against the top of your head. "You give me peace more than anyone could...even at your lowest."

Her hands gently ran through your hair, feeling every strand. "You're the sweetest person I know," she whispers.

You nibbled on your lip, slumping slightly into her in your defeat. "Not today I'm not..." you whispered back.

Taylor's hands pauses, and she takes a deep breath in, leaning back to look at you with a gentle but stern face. "Today, you were overwhelmed," she says, her eyes looking into yours.

Then, her expressions soften, and her shoulders relax. "That's understandable," she reassures, one hand going to your cheek, her thumb wiping away your tears. You watch her with emotion on your face, unable to say anything else.

She continues. "But it doesn't mean you're not sweet...or loving. Or caring." Every point she reasoned stood to their very own without a way to be fought, making themselves known in your mind.

"You were frustrated with your senses and feelings, sweetheart, please don't be too hard on yourself." She gazes at you, the back of her index finger wiping the remnants in the corner of your eye.

"It happens...okay?" she whispers, planting a sweet kiss to your forehead. "Sometimes, you just have to let it go..."

"I promise you," she murmurs, cradling the back of your head. "Just listen to the room." the fan hums. The wind passed by your ears in sweet quiet greetings. Sometimes the bed creaked at certain movements.

"Our breaths..." She gently took a deep breath in, holding it before releasing, guiding you slowly. You followed, seeing her eyes, looking into them to see the calmness inside. She nods in gentle approval.

"Thats it, feel your heart..." Her hand goes down to your chest, her other one grasping your hand gently to rest on the beat of your heart, every thump, going even through your clothes.

She then brings your other hand to her own chest. "And mine."

Anything left of your tears had dried down on your skin, and soaked into her shirt until the next wash it gets. You relaxed a little more, let yourself breathe and focus on just her.

"Thats all you need," she whispers, a small smile raising on the corner of her lips.

"I love you. So much," she says, still holding your hands. You smiled tearily, leaning in closer, and she let you rest your forehead against hers.

"I love you, too..." you whisper, your voice breaking a little. It was quiet. It was sewn rest.

She stays there, soothing, keeping you with her presence, giving you reassuring touches and kisses.

You needed a moment to settle down, to breathe, someone to lean on and give you warmth.

"Everything will be okay."

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