#never trust the hot dog man | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moondirti · 6 months

Text

so.. simon and johnny stopping by a seedy 24/7 roadhouse on their way back home post-op

featuring: established ghostsoap. pregnant fem!reader. alluded kidnapping, extremely toxic attitudes. they’re literally delusional. mentioned death. this verges on dark so please beware!

They’ve driven past it about a hundred times, never having given it more than a passing glance. Who would, really? Nothing about it seemed appealing – in all its sun-bleached paint job and flickering neon signage glory – but circumstances lent themselves to its consideration. What was supposed to be a half-day mission ended up taking two, meaning they haven’t had time to sleep let alone eat. On top of that, a delayed exfil made it so they touched down on base at an ungodly hour. By the time Price waived their paperwork and they got into their car, they were famished.

“Could eat the scabby heid aff a dog,” Johnny eventually groans. He’d tried his best to hang in there, mindful not to be a pest during the hours it takes his partner to decompress after a rough operation, but his stomach kills and he knows Simon’s does too. He only receives a grunt for a response, though the man abruptly steers into the leftmost lane, catching the nearest exit towards the place in his periphery. Cleary meant to model an American diner with it’s fading blue exterior and obnoxious banner: The Dahlia

But they’ve been in worse. They hardly take note of the coffee rings staining their table, or the homeless man who’s taken residence in a corner booth (besides the brief once-over in their threat assessment upon entering). No; they just slot themselves by the nearest exit, scan over the menu and decide to order the quickest meal possible.

Only for things to take a sudden turn when their waitress stops by.

Christ alive, Johnny wonders how you manage to glow under the harshest of fluorescents. Dewy skin. Bright eyes, if not a little sunken at the late hour. Still, you smile and do so genuinely as you waddle to their station, clicking a pen before asking: “And what can I do you for, gentlemen?”

Simon doesn’t look at you immediately, not even when you speak up. He’s too fixed on Johnny, replaying the past days’ events in his head. Revisits the hour where their comms malfunctioned, when he lost touch with his boy and had to fight not knowing whether he was holding up okay. He has trust in him, of course, more bleedin’ trust than he has in earth to keep rotating. Still–

You clear your throat.

His pupils shift to pin you under their scrutiny, only he can’t bring it in him to be as severe as he wants to be. Because, while the first thing Johnny notices about you is your beauty, the first thing Simon sees is your bump.

Obscured by your apron, but still there. Round. Full. 6 months along, by the looks of it.

He’s forced to recall Beth, Tommy by extension. An old working knowledge that comes back to haunt him. At 23 weeks, his sister in law’s pregnancy began to weigh on her. Heartburn. Backaches. Hot flashes that resulted in bouts of dizziness. She couldn’t be up for more than 2 hours at a time, and yet here you are.

What the fuck were you doing in a place like this?

“Need more time to decide?” You ask. Patient. Lovely. If Johnny weren’t so sleep-deprived, so in over his head, he would perhaps realise the subtle hints you were dropping. They’ve been staring too long now, unsettling no doubt. Grimy, each with a tell-tale bump on their waistbands that point to their armament. Simon sans hard-shell mask, but still in a balaclava and eyeblack. Both larger than life and practically alone with you in this isolated place.

It’s Simon who speaks up first. “Fish and chips for the both of us. To-go. Cheers.”

You scribble the order down, pausing to consider. “Coffee? Gotta inform you, it’s drip, bottom of the carafe so it might taste burnt too. Hotplate’s all out of sorts.”

“Aye, just the one. Gae head an’ dip yer finger in it too. Might benefit from a little sweetener.” It takes you a second to process Johnny’s flirt. When you do, though, you visibly blanch, ducking your head to hide your face as you pretend to jot what he said down.

“I’ll have that right out for you.”

And then you scurry off, glancing over your shoulder once you think you’re out of sight. Curious. Flustered.

Simon’s attention refocuses on the scotsman once you’re gone, an eyebrow raised under his mask. His partner is able to read the expressed question well enough: what do you think you’re doing? Strict, but not so much angry as it a press for him to think before he speaks, to balance the scales before he asks something of Ghost that he can’t refuse.

“Dinnae look at me like tha’.” Johnny whispers. “Bonnie lass, isn’t she?”

Simon blinks. “Expecting, too.”

“We cannae leave her here.”

Memories occur in rapid succession. Tommy. Beth. The cherubic face they had brought into the world – little Joseph, who was the first he found dead upon returning home.

He considers Johnny, Soap, this force of nature that wormed his way into his life and sunk his teeth into the rot of his heart, fastened before Simon could even think of brushing him off.

“And here’s that coffee! Your meals should be coming out soon, thank you for being patient.”

It’s a bad idea. Horrible. You could have a partner, a cozy home waiting for you. Nursery already painted. Names already chosen.

What good partner would let you work this shitty job?

It’s a bad, horrible idea. No good for anyone. They’re on constant deployment. They risk their lives on every run. You’d be put in harm’s way yourself.

Not if they hide you well enough. Their house is secluded for a reason.

It’s a bad, horrible, no good idea – but Johnny accepts the mug with a gracious smile and you bloom all pretty, hand inadvertently cradling your belly. Little flower, persisting against all odds. Growing from the fissures of broken concrete. Dignified still. Kind. Strong.

So what if they pluck you from your place? They’ve got somewhere much better for you to thrive.

next part

#this was supposed to be a lil thing #oops #simon ‘ghost’ riley #johnny ‘soap’ mactavish #ghostsoap x reader #ghoap x reader #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader x johnny ‘soap’ mactavish #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x read #soap x reader #ghost x soap #x reader #x female reader #ghostsoap #ghoap #cod #call of duty

1K notes · View notes

pinescent-and-gingerbread · 2 months

Text

˖✧ Through my eyes

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Karen explains Mary and Arthur's story to you. Saddened, you're convinced you could never compete with her until the man in question proves you wrong. ✦ Warnings/Tags: Self-depreciation from both sides, kissing, comfort, fluff. Reader has been with the gang for a year. Use of Y/N. ✦ Words: 2,8k ✦ a/n: This is the answer to this ask by the lovely @crystalofmoon19. I really hope you'll like it, dear! And thank you for your support, you've been really sweet to me and my work! As always, I got carried away and wrote way too much. And as always, please reach out to me if you spot any misspellings. Also idk why I made this in Colter, guess I just feel way too hot rn and want some fresh snow + Arthur's coat is perfect for comfort. Credits. Arthur's pic is from my playthrough. Other pics are not mine found them on Pinterest.

“And in the end, she rejected his proposal, then a few months later, sent him a letter telling she was marrying some wealthier gentleman!”

Your mouth hangs open in the air. Karen’s words enter through your ears and create a nice little nest for themselves in your brain. You had no idea. No idea Arthur had been this close to being married. That their relationship had been so strong, that, according to hearsays, he had reached his lowest after their break up, drunk most part of the day, fighting the rest of the time, obnoxious to everyone, even Dutch and Hosea.

“Y/N? You’re okay, there?” Karen asked you, disappointed her big reveal had left you reactionless.

You focused your gaze back on her. Her blonde hair is softly litten up by the setting sun, her breath exhaling a puff of steam as she breathes. Colter is a cold place, and it probably felt even colder because of the morose mood of the gang. You suddenly remember you’re supposed to be shocked. You are, of course, but in a very bad way. Not in an “Oh my God, I can’t believe this Karen, so much gossip!” kind of way.

How could you ever compete with that?

“Yeah, I’m alright. God, I had no idea so much happened between them.”

“Oh, trust me, it was definitely his biggest love story. Never saw him get into someone else after her. Not even Mary-Beth! Could you believe that?”

No, you couldn’t. You weren’t sure why but every word from Karen felt like an enormous stone falling into your belly and dragging you deeper and deeper into the sea. Your silly little crush on Arthur, when you first joined the gang a year ago, had turned into a way stronger attraction. Denying it at first, you had little by little let your emotions win, cherishing every moment with him, thanking Dutch for assigning both of you to the same missions, loving the quiet evenings where he would just sit next to you around the campfire to scribble in his journal while you would do your little hobby on your own. Silent most, but enjoying each other’s company, and so, so peaceful.

More than your emotions, you even had let your imagination take the lead, dreaming about a selfish future with him, seeing it every time he would give you a smile, or laugh at one of your jokes. A happy Arthur, relieved from his obligations, enjoys life's simplest joys. A house, a garden. Maybe a dog, considering he had loved having Copper. A marriage even. And why not a child? If he would feel ready. Something in you was telling you he would be a good father.

But now, you felt like this dream was rotten, condemned. Like a broken match. The fire, the very thing it’s designed for, not being able to be lit. Would never be lit. A wasted potential.

You tried to continue your gossiping chat with Karen, voice light but gaze elusive as you peeled the potatoes you were supposed to prepare while discussing, tedious tasks often ended up less difficult this way when you were working with the other girls. But behind your seemingly normal smile and hollow words, a haunting thought was hanging on to you as strongly as a rock trapped in a thousand-year-old iceberg.

Arthur never fell in love again after Mary Linton.

Night had definitely fallen on the frozen mountains. After your endless vegetables centered-chores, you had helped Mr. Pearson turning them into a decent meal, his incessant blattering about the Navy giving you some sort of distraction. During dinner and after though, once you didn’t have any goal or job left to do for the day, your conversation with Karen came back into your wandering mind, her speech playing again and again like a used gramophone record.

Never fell in love again...

Sitting at one of the corners of the big cabin you had been sleeping in for the past few days along with the girls and some other gang members which mainly served as a common space, you were looking outside by a dilapidated window. A frozen World spread out before your eyes, every inch of surface covered in snow and ice, the landscape ending up looking like it was coated with a thick strange substance —dark blue colors Queen of this gloomy, misty horizon.

Arthur had returned from a very busy hunting day with Charles. Thanks to them, meat had been added to the vegetable paradise of a meal, resulting in a better-than-usual supper. He should have felt cheerful, but his mood wouldn't lighten.

He had spotted you from across the room, noticing the hurtful absence of your smile on these sweet lips of yours. Smile he secretly loved. Lips he secretly fancied.

Hesitating for a long moment, debating with himself, a self-depreciative rambling turning in his head like a well-oiled motor, he had ultimately decided to join you and investigate. Something pretty important must been bothering you, because loosing your usual little grin and eating your plate all by yourself really wasn't in your habits.

Approaching you, his boots and spurs clicking and stomping before you could see him, he plants them in front of you, standing there while his eyes lock on your face.

“Miss Y/L/N? Is everythin’ okay?”

“Oh, Mr Morgan. Yeah, don’t worry. Everything is great.”

He doesn’t believe you and honestly, you wouldn’t have convinced yourself either. And Arthur is a stubborn man. A stubborn, and caring one. He leans against the cabin's old creaky walls, on the other side of the window.

“Come on, don’t lie t’me girl. Everyone noticed you’re not in your right mind.” He honestly doesn’t know about everyone, but he surely did. His words are accompanied by a small, polite smile.

“I don’t think… I don’t think you’re the right person to talk about it.”

Arthur’s entire body froze. The hands he had on his belt as always when he was comfortable, flew to his chest as he crossed his arms, his thick winter coat folding with difficulty. His encouraging smile flattened, his brows pleating in a harsh frown.

“Erm… Alright, I get it. I won’t bother you, I guess.”

Without loosening his arms, he pushed himself from the wall, taking a step to leave you some space. You couldn’t have missed it. This change of behavior, the hurtful expression he had displayed, as if he was truly pained by your words. Disappointed, maybe even shameful to have thought he could help you at all. He was just a sad, ugly bastard, after all.

You felt like you could hear all of it from where you were, and see it in the shadow that had taken his face and the gigantic mass that seemed to have fallen on his shoulders.

No, you didn’t want this. Didn’t want him to feel like that because of you and your stupid feelings, or your own dark thoughts.

“Wait, Arthur!”

He turned around the second you talked again.

“I’m sorry it’s just…” You sigh and look at him with an uncertain expression, knowing your next words were going to be risky. “It’s about you and Mary Linton…”

His eyes turn into two literal plates, his mouth slightly opening in outer astonishment. This was really not what he had in mind. You could have been sad because of a hundred logical reasons, the death of Davey and the loss of Sean and Mac, the complete fiasco of Blackwater, the hundred of dollars lost, the terrible and tough conditions of the Grizzlies plunging everyone into an unbearable cold and a threatening famine. Not mentioning Hosea’s alarming coughing, Dutch’s mysterious decisions, and Micah as a whole.

But you, out of all these things, were worried about Mary.

Once his eyes had grown as round as they could, they got back into an interrogative expression, the wave of surprise over.

“Wha’…?! How d’ya even know ‘bout her?”

“Karen speaks a lot when she’s bored…” You briefly explained, trying to sound detached.

Arthur rolls his eyes to the Heavens. Of course, folks talked, and you had to know about it all at some point. But this wasn’t ideal at all. He would have preferred to tell it to you himself, at a time he would have felt comfortable doing so, with his own words. He didn’t want this to change anything between the two of you.

“And erm… What exactly bothers ya?”

You open your mouth to speak, but your words are jammed. Explaining that you feel jealous of what the both of them had shared would just come down to confessing your feelings for him plain and simple.

You felt completely stuck.

He’s right there before your eyes, the very source of all your worries and your every joy. Looking at you with those confused blue eyes, wondering what is happening in this pretty head of yours. But the words still won’t come out. You feel more and more powerless, and instead of a sound, your eyes take over to get something out of your body, slow and sad tears filling them like a lonely glacier fills a mountain lake on its own.

Arthur’s usual frown furrows, his wrinkles more visible, contrasted by the shadows from the warm lights of the fire. Suddenly, his internal melancholic speech shuts down, as if the view of a single tear streaming down your cheek were absolutely intolerable to him. No worries nor anxious self-restraints crosses his mind —it’s now only instinct. He sees you crying. He has to help you. This is as easy as that.

His right hand reaches to you by itself.

It feels warm but coarse. This big, big hand on the side of your face.

“Oh, Y/N. Don’t waste those pretty tears for a sour-faced idiot like me.” His thumb gently wipes the drops of sadness that had overflowed from your two delicate lakes. “Come on, les’ jus’ talk about this somewhere quiet.”

Arthur gently uses the hand he had on your cheek to wrap it around your shoulders, solid arm gently pushing you up. He then leads you through the door, other members throwing curious gazes at the both of you.

But he doesn’t care. His priority, right now, is your well-being, and some privacy to allow him to finally whisper things in your ears he should have a long time ago. Not in front of everyone. Not with the other men looking at your sparkling eyes, and listening to the change in his voice he knew would crack, his usual intimidating persona crushed into a million pieces with only the sound of your own. Or with the other girls hearing the oh-so-important words he had to say. No. You would be the only one to witness this.

He had brought you to the barn where the horses were kept. The snow was falling lazily, a few flakes passing through the holes in the dilapidated roof. The place is enveloped in a heavy silence, as if it was muffling every sound coming from the outside.

Once Arthur had closed the big wooden doors behind you and before he could do anything else, you finally burst.

“I shouldn't cry, I’m so sorry Arthur, I just… She looked like an incredible woman, so beautiful a-and distinguished, and me well… I'm just… me.” Your eyes fell to your feet. You like everything was coming out of you all at once and you couldn't contain it anymore.

“Stop it.”

“How could I ever mean something to you? You've been with her for so long and even proposed to her and… and never fell in love again after her and…”

“Stop it, Y/N!”

Arthur cut your blabbering panic by pulling you against him. He held you so tightly you were almost crushed by his powerful arms, but it felt so good. Like he was holding together all the little pieces of you that had cracked, melting them with his warmth and molding yourself again with it.

“Now you l’sten to me, sweetheart. I don’t want ya to say things like this ever again.”

The sudden use of the pet name soothed your heart immediately. You buried your face into the furred collar of his big winter coat, the hairs tickling your nose. There, you can feel a little bit of his bare skin, your cheek finding shelter against it.

You stopped talking.

You just wanted him to continue to. His deep voice seemed to come directly from the inside of his chest, and you could feel it vibrating before actually hearing it.

“Ya know I’m no… Am no poet or, or good with words like Dutch…” He started, visibly unsure of what he was going to say. He’s relieved he had initiated the hug, this way, with your face in there, you couldn’t see his. The worried expression it was carrying, like a burden. “But lemme tell ya just how much I care about ya. Oh, my sweet girl.”

This is it. He tries not to but his low tone begins to tremble. It’s so strange. It feels like forever since that happened for the last time.

“Yeah, Mary has been a real’ important part of my life, I won’t lie to ya. But it was so long ago, gorgeous. So long ago.”

He knows he won’t shed a tear. He never cries. But his hands shake. His vocal cords vibrate in a vulnerable, softer, and higher-pitched quaver. His body tenses, heart as fast as if racing with a million wild horses galloping in the Great Plains. Even if his words couldn’t explain just how much you meant to him, you could have guessed by how you were affecting his entire flesh.

“Ya know what? It’s true. Our story ended badly. I never fell in love again after her.”

You sigh, more tears wetting your face and his blue coat, this truth so hard to swallow.

“Until that morning, when I saw you brushing Boadicea’s mane; your hair all covered in hay, the brightest smile I ever had the chance to witness on that sweet face o’ yours. That day, I knew my stupid foolish heart had done it all over again.”

You let out a single chuckle mixed with tears and emotions, so relieved. Even when you felt like you were at your lowest, he succeeded at making you smile.

“Grimshaw had forced me to groom all the gang’s horses to “get used to camp’s work”. Must have looked terrible.” You remembered with a smile, details of your first encounter with Arthur flooding your mind.

“You looked like a goddamn Angel, honey. T’was like the sun was shining jus’ for ya. Jesus, I knew it was too late for me.”

You pulled back from him just a little, enough for you to look at him in the eyes, but not for him to let go of you. Now that they had found you, his hands, still slightly quivering, refused to let go, their place on your back and behind your head feeling so natural and right. Your eyes behave the same way as them but with his face. He looks so moved that you have to pinch yourself internally to make sure you’re not dreaming this whole thing; never in your life you had seen him like this.

“I love you too, Arthur.” You confessed back to him, fingers cupping his cheeks in a delicate touch.

You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach his face, but his arm helped you, your lips gently discovering themselves, brushing against each other in a soft and shy caress. Even if both your mouths were chapped by the biting cold, it was the most gentle kiss you had shared in your life, a satiny embrace that left you completely dreamy and light-headed.

The snowflakes silently swirl around the both of you, Nature the only witness of your souls melting into each other.

Opening your eyes again after this moment out of time, you're met with the happiest smile Arthur ever had on his face. He looked like and idiot in love, and you were sure you looked exactly the same.

“Please darlin’, don’t ever compare yourself to her ever again. What’s in the past stays there. And I wanna have a future with you.”

Your dreams sprang back straight from your heart to your mind. The visions you had about the both of you were more alive than ever, reinforced by his own needs shared with yours.

“You’re sweet, you’re funny, you’re so smart and stunningly gorgeous. And, you wan’ a proof?” He playfully asks you, taking his hat off his head, a thin layer of snow falling from it.

Turning it over, he carefully pull a piece of paper out, hidden between two leathered segments in the inner part of his hat. His cut and reddened fingers unfold it and he gives it to you, his big smile turning into an embarrassed and sheepish one.

It’s a sketch of you.

You’re mesmerized by the details of it, the blades of hay messily tangled in your hair, the sparkling in your eyes, the exact clothes you were wearing that day. This smile, you’re more than certain he drew it way more beautiful than it really is. Arthur even had added some lines traced from your head to the end of the paper, as if you were the Sun itself and were emitting your own light.

This was impossible this was the same person as you, her beauty was too radiant and fascinating.

But no matter what you thought about yourself, seeing his work curled your lips in the exact same way as yourself on the drawing. With snowflakes replacing the twigs, you had turned into the living recreation of it. Arthur laughed when he noticed, and realized just how much he had loved you and continued to since that morning from a year ago. He bent towards you to put a small kiss on your forehead.

“Arthur it’s… It’s beautiful.” You find it difficult to find another word, speechless once again.

You also had no idea of how talented at drawing nor attracted to you he was. This day definitely was full of surprises. You chuckled fondly before taking a last look at your portrait and giving it back to your lover. But Arthur’s large palm wrapped around your hand.

“No, please, keep it. This way, you’ll always remember how you look through my eyes.”

More tears threaten to escape your own, even though those were a direct extract from the immeasurable happiness you were experiencing.

“And... Now that I don’t have to hide myself while sketching ya, I’m going to draw lots of new ones.”

tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries Thank you for reading all of this! Also, I didn't know this was a thing but if ever you want to be tagged in my works too, let me know! It would be my pleasure.

#Okaaaay this is super cheesy but I like it!#please comforting Arthur heal our hearts #Also this is the second time I write a love confession in here and def not the last time #Hope I won't repeat myself too much.#rdr2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan comfort #pinefic

551 notes · View notes

mimasroom2 · 2 months

Text

My tennis star! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

Secretly dating jock!ellie

C/w: smut but for like 2 seconds. Mention of weed lol. Uhh that’s it this is pretty laid back. This is my first time using those fake texting things I think I like it? Idk

W/c: ≈ 800

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

- She plays tennis bc I said so 🎾

- She’d win a match and she’d post on her instagram story something REAL cheesy like “only reason why we won is because someone special was in the crowd💖” and everyone thinks she’s talking ab a guy but it’s really you >•<

- She’d pull you aside into an empty hallway and lean over you with her arm up (yknow. The classic masc move.) and whisper “You comin’ to the game tonight, baby?”

- It’s so fucking cheesy but you swear she makes your knees weak every time she talks with her sexy ass voice.

- “Too bad I can’t have a massive ass sign that says your name on it all big or something.” You grin widely and she laughs, leaning in to give you a soft kiss.

- You guys go on dates to the mall so she can buy new workout clothes & equipment. Every time you guys see someone you know in a store you split up and pretend to be looking at different things on other ends of the store. Eventually when they leave you two come back together and giggle.

- “Heya stranger.” She grins, showing you some knee high socks she found while she was pretending to look around.

- Only your two best friends know ab you and Ellie, so you’re always having to make up excuses as to why you’re going to the tennis games.

- “They needed help with grilling hot dogs and hamburgers for the game, and you know I always need more service hours!”

- “Man I’m sorry I can’t go to the movies tonight. I already told the tennis coach I’d do face painting for the little kids that come😕”

- You’re studying at your desk when the first message from Ellie absolutely jumpscares you. The girl really needs to learn about context 🙄

- Absolutely all the girls in the crowd and on the opposing team would swoon over her. She lovesssss the attention and always waves at the crowd and blows kisses to them. Sometimes she winks at the girls on the other team to purposefully distract them as they’re serving. You don’t feel jealous though because you know as soon as the game’s over you’re going back to her place to celebrate ;)

- You feel so fucking lucky you’re dating a jock as her toned muscular arm is pumping in and out of you.

- “Fuck,, guess all that racket swinging comes in handy when I’m fucking you, hm?” She smirks, and she was actually right. She could practically finger you forever and never get tired.

- She’s a perfectionist with her playing and in bed. She’d have to make you cum at least twice before she’s satisfied.

- The next morning Ellie has to leave early for practice so she lets you stay in her room to sleep in. She texts you a WHOLE BUNCH, effectively spamming your phone and waking you up:

- She comes up to you one day out of the blue and says “Hey y/n, I’m like so serious can you hide all my stoner shit until this season is over…?” You knew she smoked but she told you she only does it when she’s off in tennis, so you’re surprised when she hands you a shoebox full of all her stuff.

- “Yeah ‘m fine. Coach has been gettin’ on to me. Jus’ more stressed out is all.” Is all she has to say when you ask about it. She runs her hands through her hair, thinking you’re frustrated with her. You’re just glad she trusts you enough to make her keep her promises to herself.

- She’d ask you what your favorite color is and get a special racket in that color for whenever you see her play. She’d say it’s her lucky racket :,)

- You were never super into sports but you loveeeee spending time with Ellie, so she decides to give you some one on one lessons.

- “Yeah, thas’ it, baby.” She’d mutter in your ear from behind you. She’s holding the racket with you and helping you swing your arms the right way.

- You guys didn’t expect to see anyone on the tennis court this early, so when other people come and Ellie recognizes them, she quickly guides you guys behind a tree.

- Your stomach is filled with butterflies as she tucks your loose hair behind your ear and kisses you !!

- You feel like a little kid playing in the woods again because now you and Ellie are sneaking around the park/tennis court trying not to be seen by the other people

- She gets really cocky sometimes and posts soft launches of you on her insta stories

- It would be a picture of you in her lap WAHH! Her tattooed hand is on your thigh with the caption “keeping me occupied”

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

#ellie williams #tlou2 #wlw #ellie the last of us #ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #lesbian #ellie smut #ellie tlou #ellie williams fluff #ellie x you #jock!ellie #secret dating

506 notes · View notes

retiredteabag · 11 days

Text

soft Toji dog-sitting for a generous!reader

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4 - pt. 5

synopsis: Toji was quite accustomed to objectifying himself for a check. And to be frank, far worse actions as well. Now he’s not sure what to do with himself after meeting the kind and generous owner of the dog he pet-sits for.

read along as Toji grows more comfortable around you despite his past.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Toji had stayed the night at many women's houses. At some point down the line, he started requesting they order him an Uber or something, but in the beginning, he was hardly at his own place. And for a brief period, when he was in a real desperate situation, he stayed with the women because he didn't have a place of his own.

That's why it's so strange to Toji, to feel apprehensive at staying the night in your home.

You won't even be there, what's it matter? He thought.

But then again, that might be why he's a bit uneasy about the whole thing. You were to be gone three days for a work event. And you had entrusted him with your entire place. He had showered and napped in your house, eaten your food and brought in the mail. He was comfortable to the point it felt like a second (much nicer) home. What he had never done, was stay the night. He certainly hadn't slept in your bed...

You had seemed overwhelmed and uneasy about the situation while walking him through everything. You had been on the opposite side of the kitchen island when you had said,

"I know this is so short notice, I'm terribly sorry, I wasn't even supposed to be on this trip, I asked not to go, but the other official called out sick." Your hands made grand and elaborate gestures and your dogs head wobbled as he followed your theatrical hands. "So now, I'm stuck, I have to go." You sounded upset.

"'S not a problem. So, what day does the trash go out, again?" He held back a grin as your shoulders drooped.

"Toji, you're my hero. Thank you. And Wednesday, don't worry if you forget to take it out though."

You had informed him that the dog would probably like it best if he stayed downstairs with him while you were away. Meaning-sleeping in the master bedroom. In your bedroom. On your bed.

Oh...kay...

He shrugged it off as you muttered some, "of course, I'll clean the sheets so don't worry about that..." And explained about the difficult relationship between the dog and the mailman. But he was too caught up in the fact that you were so trusting of him.

There didn't seem to be any uncomfortable air around you, other than your work-related stress around the trip, but you didn't seem to have a problem with this big-ass man spending a few days in at your place.

Toji had lots of appeal, and he had grown to know, the majority of it was sex appeal. And the fact that you clearly had no interest in that aspect of his abilities... made him feel odd. Any time he would throw a compliment at you, you would smile politely, and say something nice about him. Except it was always,

"You're so good at you're job!"

"I'm so glad I can trust you to look after my puppy!"

"I appreciate how efficient you are!"

it made his ears feel hot.

So did the smell of your bedsheets. In fact, your pillowcases had such an effect on him, on that first night you were gone, he found himself rummaging through your things to distract himself.

He meandered through your room, pulling books and sticky notes off dressers and walking through your closet nook. He intentionally did not open any drawers but when he stumbled upon a pair of pajamas lying on a bookcase ladder, he quickly turned around and went to examine the fascinating blanket collection at the foot of your bed.

Staying at your place meant he could sleep in if he wanted to, but that morning he got out of bed earlier than usual. He wasn't going to let his mind wander while lying in the same spot you lay.

He found himself pretending he actually lived in the space. Getting dressed. Feeding the dog. Making breakfast. All in the luxurious home he did not belong in. After some time he realized all of these fantasies included you. He imagined making coffee as you sat across the island, he imagined talking with you, as a normal person, over pancakes, or whatever the hell rich people ate.

Eventually, he had to shake the thoughts from his head as they began to seem too domestic.

One thing that carried throughout the days of your leave, was the photos. You had repeatedly told him to never hesitate to contact you, "And please feel free to send pictures!" So send pictures- he did.

On walks, in the back yard, while booping the dog's nose, after giving the beast a treat. He sent most to you but kept some for himself. You acted as if he was spoiling you with these images of your own canine, the hearted messages and polite, "This really made my day!" stuck with him, when in reality, you were the one spoiling him with how much you had given him for his stay.

Once upon a time, the money he had in his wallet would have already been gone. A real likelihood being that he took the cash and left the dog to fend for itself. Only naive people paid before the service was completed. But he was a different man now. Or so he told himself as he pondered how you must think of him.

You must think highly. To pay so much upfront. You must trust him.

That evening, after walking the dog one last time, he flipped his phone around in his hand while lying down, legs hanging off your mattress. It was late, he was wondering what you were doing and what he should spend his money on when he felt the vibrations of his phone.

He saw your contact pop up and was quick to open the messaging app. What he saw, however, confused him a great deal.

"I would like for you to not involve the police with this. If possible, do keep this event and its handlings between us, I would be unhappy if my colleagues heard about this."

He sprang up in the bed, his feet planted on the floor as he read and reread your message over and over. Confusion filled him, was this message intended for him? If so, had you discovered something about Toji's past? Or had you mistakenly sent the message to him?

What was this about?

He began to write back, only to stop. He wanted to see if you would alter your text, or confirm your mistake. When you didn't and he could not take it any longer. He responded.

"What event are we discussing?"

Immediately he saw that you had read his reply, and quickly he saw an ellipses appear. It faded quickly. He waited for what seemed like forever, unsure of what to say. "I would be unhappy if my colleagues heard about this" he knew you had discussed his working for you before with your co-workers before he distinctly told you he wasn't looking for more work.

Sick of all the waiting, he decided to call you. And as soon as the phone rang, it immediately went to voice mail.

Clearly, you had been in a hurry to avoid his call. Unsure of how to proceed, he texted again.

"???"

He had a sick feeling in his stomach as he rose to pace the bedroom. Finally a message arrived.

"Terribly sorry, that message was intded for my boss. I texted your ontact by mistake."

Toji tried to digest exactly what this meant. He saw the typos in your message and quickly wondered if you had ever been so careless before. He scrolled up to scan previous conversations but decided it was unimportant.

"I see" he began, he wanted to ask what was happening but he knew he wouldn't want anyone prying into him, especially if it involved anything incriminating. He tried to relax himself. Perhaps the comment had nothing to do with him, even so, he decided to call you again to clarify what had just happened.

In a harsh contrast to before, the phone barely had a chance to ring before you picked up. Toji knew he hadn't been thinking straight. But when he saw the call start he realized then that he hadn't planned what he was going to say. It wasn't but a moment later that he discovered that all of his unanswered questions were irrelevant.

He held the phone up to his ear and heard quick breaths from the other end of the call. What he assumed was a frantic exhale, came out more like a sob as he heard pained whimpers.

"Didn't mean to...sorry about tonight. It was my mistake." You were speaking very slowly, in a calculated sort of way. Still, your voice shook.

Toji was impossibly still as he listened to your voice. "What's going on, y/n?"

That night he would lay in bed, trying to sleep, and realize that this particular moment might have been the first time he used your name intentionally. In the moment, however, he was all too occupied to care. He wanted to come off as gentle and friendly, something he was completely unaccustomed to.

The line went quiet. There was a long pause before a throaty squeak came and a warbled, "...sorry" was heard. Just before the call ended.

Toji began to pace again, he called you once more before he decided that it might be best to not pressure you. He ran a hand down his face as he tried to write a text. But he had nothing to say, he was experiencing confusion and confusion alone.

Turns out, he didn't need to start the conversation again, in your never-ending kindness, you sent, "I'm sorry for all of this, this is a small matter with work at the moment and I did not mean to startle you. I see how it might have come off as concerning. I promise this will not effect you. I'm sorry. Please forget this occurred."

Relief flooded Toji faster than he could question it. So this didn't involve him. But what exactly was happening? He gave your message a thumbs up... but something was still stuck eating at his brain.

"Were you crying just now?" He sent.

He expected a long wait before you responded but, to his surprise you reply was prompt.

"Sorry about that."

And a moment later, "I didn't mean to involve you."

That feeling in his stomach sunk further as he stared at his phone. Unsure of what to say, your dog whimpered at his feet and Toji took a deep breath.

"I wasn't asking for you to apologize" he typed, trying to put his intentions into words. "Are you okay?"

He couldn't remember the last time he had asked someone about their wellbeing. So when you responded,

"Yes. I think so." He found himself slowly walking back to your bed. Staring at the floor as he sat on your comforter. He decided he wouldn't press.

He liked your message.

He laid in your bed.

And he tried to get the sound of your shaky breaths out of his mind.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

tags: @sweetpo1son @scorpiosugar @starmapz @toruswrld @your-mum3000 @meow-satoru @animeblr @utarts @roxyyyyy1xx @lilming36 @scandibabeuh @atanasiaaaa @chouzuko @voronii @transsfish @h3llf4iry @lucrea @straewberrysoda @s4m4nth4wrld @storiesbyparadise @pokiona @neiostrike @breenatalle @uwolivia @gothic-fluffycow @luvvmae @justbelljust @voidshoutsback @chaotic-ish @jamzywiththejam28 @definitely-not-leena @kirawyd @kuro-chi69 @smoments @lukabwrry @esmedelacroix @professionalreblogger @yoongluverz @stainednailpolishremover @nappingmoon @lauretsy @noelssprings @bytgefirewbook @koji-ibitsu @wafflefries786 @bearchermer @p1nkfl0wers @sugojosgf @deafeningherofishcash @yeehawbrothers @wil10wthetree @youcantseem3 @poopooindamouf @miakxn @esggs @makosworld @neeshsoodrippedout @momoewn @mooncleaver @avocadomochi @getoisinnocent @femmefatal

If you ever want to be added or taken off of the tag list, just let me know :] (if your name is here but you didn’t get tagged. I think it’s either bc your blog is new/blank/empty or you need to check your privacy settings)

386 notes · View notes

cvnt4him · 3 months

Note

CAN YOU WRITE A LOVESICK IZUKU??

i’m talking practical hearts in his eyes and like a complete puppy dog🙏, this gorgeous and strong boy on his knees and at your side at every beck and call, would do anything for attention and praise. god i love him

- 😼♡

I LOVE HIM TOOO BROOO YES YES YES HE WOULD SO BE LIKE A PUPPY DOG I LOVE HIM AJDBHDHEB TY FOR THIS.

writers block be gone 😞🙏🏽

Izuku midoriya. Your puppy like, babyfaced, adorable, loving, compassionate boyfriend who'd do anything for you. That's the kind of man you wanted, and once you finally got him you were in shock. There was no way this perfect Demi god of a man was yours?!

You constantly tell him how surprised you are at how you bagged him, but truth be told he's even more surprised that he managed to bag you!!

He always dreamed of holding you and kissing your face, he spent so much time fantasizing about you his grades started slipping. He began drawing you and even thinking about you before bed. He wouldn't admit it to you now that you two are dating but he has sexy drawings of you, he also used to think about you and stalk your social media while stroking his cock.

It was embarrassing to think about so he viewed to never being it up to you. EVER.

Izuku wasn't the jealous type, he had no reason to be. He knew you were loyal and he was more than loyal. He stayed by your side all the time and assured you knew where he was when he wasn't. He hated being away from you, leaving your side made him feel lonely, cold.

Cuddling you was his favorite thing in the world!!!! Holding you close and wrapping his large muscles around your figure, he was so much stronger than you and he knew that. He loved when you called him your "big strong man" it made him so hard and flustered. He knew that if he wanted he could snap your neck like a twig, he loved that. The fact that you still got an attitude with him on some occasions and even ignored him when he accidentally angered you despite knowing what he's capable of made his cock twitch.

He loved how you couldn't give a flying fuck that he could destroy the whole world within the blink of an eye. Yet that wouldn't stop you from rolling your eyes at him and making him sit at the eye of your bed while you plunged your fingers inside of you.

Izuku loves going shopping with you, you'll never have to worry about getting lost or losing hm because he won't dare to leave your side. He wouldn't even think of it. He likes watching you giggle and get all excited about spending money and buying new jewelry or clothes. The way you jumped up and down and how your boobs bounced with every jump. How you let him watch you change in the changing room.

See, it wasn't even the fact that you let him watch, the fact that he seen your boobs spill from your bra. It was the fact that you trusted him enough to watch you in such a vulnerable state, he could've taken a picture and sent it to all his friends or made jokes about your body but he didn't and that's why you trusted him. Your trust in him made him so excited, if he were a dog his tail would be wagging like there's no tomorrow.

You and izuku had gotten in trouble for sleeping in one another dorm. It wasn't allowed, but izuku just couldn't stand being away from you!! His heart aches just thinking about how cold his side of your bed must've been next to you! How you must crave his warmth next to you. How he yearned for you to snuggle your face into his neck, the hot breath that you fanned his freckles neck making him hold back a moan.

He snuck out of his dorm quietly and crept his way to yours, sneaking inside of it without you even noticing. You seemed to be asleep, no matter, he knew you wanted him there whether you could say it or not! Nothing would stop him from getting to you!!! Izuku grabbed your body and yanked you into his larger figure, broad shoulders curling themselves around you. Your eyes shoot open as your slowly turn your head back to see izuku with his eyes closed and a dumb smile on his beautiful chubby face. For fucks sake.

Izuku loved when you needed him, when you'd call him for help because you can't get something or can't find something or just want him to buy you some food, hell do it no questions asked. He apologizes to you for you feeling like you even had to ask!!

Izuku was nothing more than like a dog, it was like he was part dog or something, like some sort of hybrid. He shook his head sometimes, his shaggy curly hair moving all around his face. The way he'd turn his head when he was confused, and that dumb smile he'd give you when he was happy. Eyebrows furrowing and his eyes blown wide, hearts forming shape in his pupil.

His eyes were glossy as he was in his knees, watching you touch yourself in front of his face, he waited for you to say he could taste you, please you. He was a good boy! And he'd continue to be your good boy until the end of time!!

His mouth opens as he inhales at the same time as you, his breaths matching yours while you tease your throbbing cunt. He moans and bites his lip his eyes staring directly at your wet squelching hole. He wanted to lick you clean, he wanted to devour you whole.

"please please please... Oh..!"

He inhales at the end of his sentence, a moan leaving his mouth at the same time as you. You moan and throw your head back, the way he looked at you like you were the last meal on earth was so sexy.

You stop your movements, simply to see how he would react and to your surprise he whimpers and whines and shoots his wide glossy eyes up to yours, a pouty frown forming on his pink lips. He turned his head to the side and let another desperate whine out for you. God this was quite the sight, you knew he liked to please you but there was no way he actually liked watching you get yourself off? Did it make him horny as well?

Yes it did but that wasn't why he wanted you to continue. He wanted you to cum hecsuse he wnyd you to feel good. He didn't care about his pleasure or if he even got to cum at all tonight, he wanted to make sure you came at least 5 times before the end of the night, whether it be his doing or your own. He wouldn't put up a fight. He liked watching.

You giggle before closing your legs and crossing them, another whine leaving his lips this time much louder and bitchy than before. You smile and motion for him to come closer. Without hesitation he crawls towards you slowly, you lay your crossed thigh and he lays his chin on it. He turns his head and drives his cheek up against the fat of your thigh, whimpering under this breath.

You raked your fingers through his messy curls, fingers slightly getting caught in the naps and kinks in his hair. He lets a moan escape his lips as he bites his lower one, a smile forming on his mouth as he looks up at you with lust filled eyes.

"want a taste, zu?"

He couldn't speak, he was sure to embarrass himself if he even tried due to his dry throat from the lack of speaking. He nodded aggressively with low whines leaving his throat. He nudges your legs open with his head before burying his face in between your thighs, the warmth that was held in between fanning all over his face.

He takes a big sniff of the aroma that leaves your cunt, he was such a disgusting perv. Getting off to smell alone was the dirtiest thing he could possibly do. He groaned before licking a long slow strike up your cunny. You throw your head back before lifting one of your legs over his shoulder which he happily held onto, he knew he'd need to, things always get pretty intense when he eats you out. Mostly on his party bc he js loves the taste of you, he always gets so pussy drunk.

He shakes his head whilst being in between your legs, slurping and licking up everything that you leak out. Izuku takes it as high praise when you moan for him and tell him what you want, how could he even attempt to be cruel and deny you of what you want?

You moan as your hand find themselves in his hair pushing his head deeper into your pussy, he obviously obliges and tries his hardest to bury himself deeper and deeper into you, his nose rubbing and brushing against your sensitive clit. When he shakes his head his nose rubs your clit in the best way that had your pussy squeezing around his pink muscle delving in and out of you at a fast pace, he then decided to add two of his thick fingers and plunged them in and out of you in repeated motions.

God being stuffed with his scarred thick digits was so good, you could only imagine how much he was enjoying himself. Sure be was a pervert but at the end of the day he was yours and you wouldn't trade him for the world.

"mmph~, c'mon zuzu, make me cum baby boy, c'mon be a good boy f'me~"

You choke out a groan, the pleasure beginning to be far too much for you to handle, you feel that impending coil inside of you threatening to break every time he moans into your cunt, sending vibrations all the way up your body. He hadn't moved back to take a single breath yet, you were surprised but honestly you knew even if he couldn't breathe he probably wouldn't even think about stopping the pleasure he was giving you. He'd rather die than deny you of pleasure, especially if you were letting him make you feel good. That was like the highest honor besties upon him. Making you feel good.

He moves his mouth to focus on your clit, sucking it in between his lips. He lets his tongue prod and poke and kitten lick it lightly while he shoves his fingers inside of you, never letting up the intense speed he had. You feel your arms begin to weaken inside of his hair, your whole body shaking and shivers above him , eyes rolling back from the way he moaned around your clit.

Izuku lolled his tongue out and gently licked stripes up and down your clit, hot breath making the sensitive bundle of nerves feel even better, the sounds that left him were so hot and dirty. The way izukus moaned as if he were the one being pleasured in such immense ways. He loved getting head from you, sure, but there was nothing better than giving you head. Hell he'd dare even say that not even sex itself was better than getting to eat you out.

He gives your clit one last long suck before you choke out a loud breathy moan and fall back onto the bed, body spasming and shaking underneath him while he worked his magic from on his knees. Izuku moans inside of your cunt and licks and sucks up everything you give him, his fingers slow down as he fucks you through you orgasm, letting tiny mewls and gentle words out.

"mm- thank you-- s'much, so good..~"

He was trying his hardest not to overstimulate you but he couldn't help it, he just couldn't pull his mouth away from you. You tasted so sweet and so good he just couldn't even try to.

You kick izukus head away shaking and twitching from the overstimulation before falling back onto the bed. He catches his breath and just stares up at you, the way your chest raised and lowered in a rhythmic pattern

Izuku is, was, and will always be enamored with you. He just loves you so so much!

AN: I wanna post more OC art chat but I'm scared, like my art style has been going through... Some changes.. and I'm js afraid that no one will like it😞

Also if you don't already know this shit is not proofread there will be no warnings and yeah!!!!! Like all of my fics 💀

520 notes · View notes

cranberrv · 4 months

Text

sweet

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ in which dallas winston sneaks into your bedroom

( a/n : this request was so cute! i want dal so badly HOLYY but anyway i hope u cuties enjoy )

the smoke of a candle danced through your room, coating it in a subtle smell of vanilla. the beatles was playing on vinyl, the record spinning endlessly. your vanity was covered in expensive makeup and one of the lightbulbs on the fairylights strung to your wall was flickering, slowly burning out. the new pink pyjamas that your mother bought you sat comfortably on your skin, and the pages of a book were flipping every few minutes.

you feel a sense of calm as you relax. it’s storming heavily out but you’re safe inside, your parents are asleep, and it’s just you and your little dog hanging out on your bed. you’re almost ready to blow out your candle and head to bed.

until you hear a knock on the window. you jump at the sudden sound disrupting your quiet time, but ignore it, thinking it’s just the wind. but then it happens again multiple times. your head is going to worst-case scenario. serial killer? kidnapper? you don’t know, but they’re impatient. so you hesitate, but peak through your lacy curtains. your lover, dallas winston, is staring at you.

you relax your shoulders and sigh, opening your window. “you scared me,” you whisper-yell so you don’t wake your parents. “how do you know where i live?”

“two-bit told me,” he tells you, talking in a normal voice. you elbow him, and he whispers as he continues. “i should be asking you why another man knows your address.”

“i babysit his sister, he drops her off all the time,” you whisper. you’re annoyed at him for showing up at midnight, and you’re about to force him out, until you notice how drenched with rain he is. “you’re all wet, dal,” you sigh. “are you cold?”

he shakes his head and shrugs, sitting on the edge of your bed. “nah, i’m alright, sugar,”

you sit beside him and gently rest your hand on his cheek for a second, checking his temperature to see if he’s lying. “you’re freezing,” you have a worried look in your eye. he knows it all too well, you get nervous for him easily. “i’ll go get you a towel. do you want hot chocolate?”

“baby, i ain’t gonna die of hypothermia,” he assures. “i don’t need hot chocolate.”

“okay,” you give him a kiss on the cheek, then stand up and walk out of the room to grab a towel.

as you walk out of the room and into the hallway, careful not to step on creaky floorboards and wake your loved ones up, dallas sits up from the bed, and starts looking around your room. he’s never been in a rich kids house before. he picks up your expensive lipstick from your vanity, the one you wear everyday, the one that stains his face when you kiss him. he picks up your perfume — he loves your perfume. he loves how you smell, rosey and feminine. the smell of you makes him feel serene, relaxation washing over him. you have this way about you that makes him feel so safe.

after he’s done looking at your vanity and your shelves of books and crystals, he catches a glimpse of himself in the vanity. he doesn’t fit in with you or your room. his hair is wet, his jacket is dirty, his shoes aren’t shiny and he looks roughed up. but what’s funny is that you don’t even care. most socs care about their reputation, they would never want to be seen around a greaser, but you don’t care. he’s never experienced unconditonal love like yours before.

you walk back in with a pink towel and see him looking at himself. “doing your makeup, dal?” you tease, and he playfully rolls his eyes in response.

“very funny, sweetie,” he sits back down on your bed and takes off his jacket.

you sit down beside him and start drying him off, because frankly, you don’t trust him to do it himself. you brush his bare shoulders and you pat his hair with the towel. he’s watching you do it all, admiring your focus and your need to take care of him. he takes your free hand in his own calloused hand, gently rubbing it with his thumb. he has so much love and thankfulness towards you, he just doesn’t know how to express it. him taking your hand causes you to lose your focus and look up at him. his gaze doesn’t drift, a soft smile on his face as your cheeks blush.

“i think i’m dry enough,” he whispers.

you nod, and set the towel down. “okay,”

he takes a breath before speaking again. “can i stay over here tonight?”

you hesitate. you would love for him to stay over, you would love to talk to him all night and spend time with him, but it’s a school night. “my dad wakes me up during school days, dallas, he’ll see you,” you whisper. “and i don’t really want him to know that a boy snuck in my room.”

“what? why? you’ll get grounded or somethin’? c’mon, doll, nothing is gonna happen,” you shrug, and he continues. “i just want to spend some time with my girl, is that a crime?”

“he’ll be mad—“ you start, but he interrupts you with a compromise.

“i’ll be out at 6:00, your old man won’t see me. i gotta help buck clean up the bar, anyway,” he insists.

“..fine.” you agree, a little smile growing on your face at the excitement of dallas sleeping over.

he gives you a peck on the lips. you guys continue talking for a little bit longer, about how he didn’t know you babysat two-bit’s sister, and about how your teacher got you in trouble for chewing gum. and when your beatles record stops and you change it, he tells you he’s never listened to them before because they’re a “soc band.”

after a while, you two are lying down, still talking in hushed whispers. it’s mostly you talking, but he loves your voice, so he doesn’t mind. his arm is around you, pulling you into his side. you let out a small yawn as you start to get tired, and he gives you a gentle pat on your back.

“go to sleep, sugar,” he tells you.

you disagree with him. “i like talking to you,”

“yeah, well, you can do that all you want tomorrow, doll,” he takes a breath. “you wanna swing by buck’s tomorrow?”

“yeah,” you nod. “i’ll come after school.”

he rubs your back gently, and adjusts himself to get more comfortable.

“can you blow out the candle?” you ask him before he gets too tired.

he nods, and leans over to your bedside table to blow it out, then he turns off the lamp. his st. christopher necklace and the smoke are the only things you can see in the darkness hugging you two. the beatles continues to play in the background, and you two stay close together, a feeling of serenity in the air. dallas chooses to stay awake for a bit longer, watching you fall into a peaceful state as you sleep.

dallas isn’t the same person with you as he is when he’s in public. when he’s with his friends, or even walking around town, he has this intimidating aura that can scare anyone who has the mispleasure of walking past him. he has a dangerous reputation around tulsa, and he’s seen as a teenage dirtbag who’s been to jail more times than you can count.

but when he’s around you, he’s completely different. his walls are torn down the minute he smells your perfume. he lets you take care of him, he doesn’t wipe off the lipstick stains on your face, and he’s oh so sweet.

so as he watches the candle smoke dance through the room, he can come to one conclusion. he will never leave the safe place that he calls you.

#the outsiders #dallas winston #dally winston #dallas #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston headcanons #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston fluff #dally winston fluff #dallas winston x y/n #dallas winston x you #dating dallas winston #dallas x reader #dallas winston fanfic #dally imagine #the outsiders dally #matt dillon #girly!reader

496 notes · View notes

kimberly-spirits13 · 1 year

Text

Dating Jason Todd General Headcannons

warnings: nothing graphic but there are a few bed preferences in there without being descriptive

He's a very veryyyy touchy person

There is not a time in your entire relationship where he doesn't have his hands on you somehow

he wants you to sit in his lap and be cuddled up against his chest, wants his hand on your thigh, pinkies linked, holding your hand, touching shoulders while standing close together, literally anything

He's a total big spoon almost always

He likes to engulf you and it makes him feel like you're safe

Also likes it when you use his chest or stomach as a pillow

"Don't you have a pillow to sleep on Y/N/N?" "yea, I'm using it doofus."

He likes to sleep on top of you and have you scratch his scalp or run your fingers through his hair

has him out like a light

Jason is a heavy sleeper so if you move around a lot, it won't bother him

That being said, it's hard to wake him up from a nightmare

sometimes you can't wake him up and have to let him ride it out and wake up on his own

He HATES waking up alone and will tightly wrap his arms and legs around you when he sleeps

He likes being able to do things separately but in the same room

maybe you're working on a case and he's reading Jane Austin or something

He really prefers a vigilante S/O because he knows they can take care of themselves

it's one less thing for him to worry about if you can roundhouse someone three times your size

He really thinks that it's hot when you get aggressive on patrol or missions

gets hot and bothered very easily

he's not one to say anything degrading while you two are in the sheets

he's more like a really sweet and attentive type that can also get aggressive but never mean

he's not into choking, sorry but no- you two have been choked to near death enough and he doesn't find anything attractive about it

He also isn't the type to immediately want to get it on the moment you're in shorts or have your shirt off or something

Like he'll tell you that you're fine as hell but he's not immediately a dog towards you unless you want to do anything

He's the kind of person that you can be very very comfortable around

Likes to ride his motorcycle with you since it's another chance for you two to be close

is a hype man and is the kind of person that you take shopping with you

He'll always be bias towards red though

I don't know that I'd say that Jason is the type of person that is sleeping around with everyone

I think that he's had a few relationships before (maybe like 2 or 3, 4 at most) but he's not going around the neighborhood

Is extremely protective and loyal

Like would not even think about doing ANYTHING that could hinder your trust towards him

He is the type to open your car doors and open the door into a building and order for you if you want and walk closest to the road

if scary dog privileges were a human

Jason is the sweetest little thing but he looks like he can snap anyone like a twig with his pinky

He likes being held

Please wrap this man in your arms for a few hours

that's ultimately all he wants

He doesn't have a boobs or butt preference and generally just loves everything about you

There's no being insecure in this house y'all

"What'd you say about yourself?" "Jason it's really not a big deal, I just don't like this scar from that sword fight a few years back." "You know what Y/N, no, uh uh, sit down and let me tell you something you literal angel"

goes on and on and on and on about how perfect you are

Sticks his head under your shirt

It's a common occurrence

ultimately, Jason just wants love

that's it, that's all the puppy wants

He really likes to cook for you since it's very domestic

He likes anything domestic, even cleaning the house or doing something mundane like the dishes

it makes him feel at home with you

he's the one that buys the candles in the house since I think he would secretly have really good taste in things like that

takes care of himself really well after he was resurrected in the Lazarus Pit

uses nice shampoo, conditioner, washes his face and moisturizes, shaves often, he's down to do face and hair masks with you at any point

#dc x reader #dc comics #dc characters #batfam x reader #batboys x reader #batfam #jason todd x reader #jason todd x #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #Jason todd x reader fluff #red hood x gender neutral reader #red hood x y/n #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood fluff

2K notes · View notes

nana-au · 5 months

Text

Best Friend Activities

Eren + Armin + You - MDNI

₊˚ପ⊹ Summary: Armin is a virgin and Eren enlists you to help out his best friend. Why is he watching? To make sure he’s doing a good job, of course.

(Dom!Eren, Virgin!Armin, Sub!Reader)

₊˚ପ⊹ an: Eren brings out something feral within me. I'm so sorry. Not proofread!!!

₊˚ପ⊹ wc: 3.2k

₊˚ପ⊹ Warnings: mmf pairing, threesome, slight manipulation, breeding/pregnancy kink, mentions of public sex, f receiving! oral, p in v (no protection <3)

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

Eren Jaeger was so skilled when it came to getting you all wrapped up in his dangerous plans. There was one time he convinced you to skip class to see a movie. Or another time when you two snuck into a bar before your 21st birthday. It made you blush, but you often thought about the time he fingered you in your college’s library a week before finals. His mouth open and hot against yours as you tried to breathe through the pleasure. His fingers sliding in and out, creating the lewdest noise as he shamed your wet pussy for being so loud - Every day with him was eventful to say the least. It shouldn’t have shocked you when Eren tracked you down on your way to class one day with the news of his next venture. He was a good boyfriend, allowing you time to think about it during your geology lecture.

Armin Arlert - Eren’s childhood best friend. Your face felt hot as the professor droned about naturally occurring crystal formations, you weren’t entirely convinced it was English he was speaking - you were that out of it. Armin. Armin. Armin. Your brain chanted. You were used to Eren’s ideas of a good time but this? This was new.

“I can’t let my best friend graduate college as a virgin! You understand right?” He had that smooth yet exasperated tone while explaining the dilemma. “You’re like nothing I’ve ever had,” he gave you his puppy dog eyes, “You’re the only one I trust to help my best friend with this,” He made it sound so nonchalant, like everyone fucks their boyfriend’s best friend. He noticed your hesitance as you breached the doors of your school’s science department, stopping you before your classroom door. “I’ve never led you down the wrong path, have I?”

You bit your lip, his final words echoing in your mind. He was always so selfless, putting himself before others. He was offering up his girlfriend to make sure his friend’s first time was a positive experience. How could you be the one to cut his streak of charitability short?

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

Throughout the day you felt more and more positive about what was going to happen - that was until you were in Eren’s bedroom with Armin at the edge of his bed. The blonde was fidgeting with his hands, you could tell he was just as unsure as you were.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this, Eren?” He asked him, giving him the option to back out. He would be lying if he wasn’t interested in you - hell, the whole school was. It seemed to be a weekly occurrence where Eren had to protect you from another man’s attention - it was nerve-wracking how Eren was so nonchalant about sharing you with him now.

“I’m Positive, ‘Min,” his smile was soft and sincere. Armin couldn’t hide the shiver that wracked across his spine. “You don’t mind, right Armin?” he shook his head fervently to Eren, biting down on his bottom lip as he searched for the right words. “I just recalled our talk way back when,” Eren was leaning back against his dresser, arms crossed and demeanor overtaken by cockiness as he continued, “When we first met her?” he spoke like you weren’t there. You were still by the door, rubbing your arms to soothe yourself from your nerves. Your eyebrows quirked at his mention of you, looking at Armin whose face grew even redder. “Do you remember, ‘Min?”

“Y-Yeah,” his voice quivers and his eyes won't move from a spot on the ground.

“What talk?” you speak up. Eren finally turns to you, his teeth peaking out of his smirk.

“Armin, do you want to tell her?” The blonde is speechless, you can see a light sheen of sweat on his features as he looks up to Eren. He shakes his head again, you can almost feel the anxiety that radiates off of him. “It’s okay, she’s here isn’t she? She won’t laugh. Right? You won’t laugh?” he addresses you and you’re forced to agree to soothe Armin. “Go on ‘Min,” he assures him. You move towards him, feeling on edge seeing someone you knew so well be so nervous. He won’t meet your eyes so you chose to sit next to him, putting your hand on his back.

“It’s okay,” you promise him. Silence follows your words and after a couple of minutes Eren decides to put an end to his misery.

“’s really no big deal, he just wanted to fuck you,” you can feel Armin’s body jump from the vulgar choice of words. He wouldn’t have put it so harshly. Before you and Eren were official, Armin had said he wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. He may have also mentioned you were the first girl he ever really felt sexual feelings for. But, again, that was before you and Eren. In this moment, with Eren teasing him and you trying to comfort him, jumping out of the window didn’t sound like a terrible idea.

“I-I mentioned that you were really pretty,” he was trying so desperately to recover but the taller boy would never allow it.

“It’s okay Armin- she doesn’t mind. Seriously,” You nodded along to Eren’s words, starting to feel a little flushed yourself. “You want to fuck him now, right?” you now were on the hot seat, enduring his questioning.

“I agreed to help with his p-problem,” you were even beginning to stutter too. God what was Eren going to do with the two of you? He hovered over your figures on the edge of his bed, watching his best friend and girlfriend squirm at his words.

“Then don’t let me stop you,” You couldn’t move at first, unsure as to what you should even do. He chuckled and reached his hand up your skirt. “Do you need some help getting ready?” his finger looped into your panties and pulled them down to your thighs. You could feel his slender digit nudge your entrance. You hissed at what he found. “Armin, she’s already wet for you,” he laughs incredulously. The blonde finally finds it in himself to move, shifting his body to get a better look. Eren grabs the top of your skirt, pulling it up to your stomach so you were on full display to his friend. He looked shocked. Maybe excited? You were too busy trying not to close your legs at the intrusion to get a good read. “Go ahead, feel,” Eren invites him. He’s hesitant at first, meeting your eyes to make sure it was ok with you. You meekly nod before feeling his cold finger against you. He looks surprised, feeling your slickness on his finger. He nudges the tip of his index against your entrance, probing the velvety skin. “Put it inside,” Eren encourages and you don’t even wait for Armin to check if it’s ok before you are nodding enthusiastically. His soft digit glides into your pussy and he watches, mesmerized by the image in front of him. He can feel the ridges of your walls against his finger and he definitely feels you squeeze around him.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. He pulls it all the way out, watching the way your arousal trails to his finger. Your eyes are wide as you watch him fall in love with your pussy, and Eren pets your head muttering to himself. You’re such a good girl, letting him explore you. He knew you would be perfect for the job.

“Do you see her clit?” he asks his friend. “Girls really like it when you play with that,” he advises him. Armin moves his finger up to your clit and your body jolts at sudden harsh feeling. “Rub it gently. In circles.” and Armin obeys. You feel your pussy clench around nothing, incredibly aroused by Armin’s intense interest in your intimate areas. His face was not unsimilar to how it looks when he studies; His brows furrowed in concentration and his jaw was slightly clenched. He wasn’t meeting your gaze, too transfixed on what was happening below. You let out a small mewl, his finger barely ghosting on your clit making it hard to think.

“What should I do next?” Armin asks Eren.

“What do you want to do next?”

“I want to eat her pussy,”

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

You were now at the top of the bed with your head underneath a pillow and your pussy enduring Eren’s lesson. He taught him how to swirl his tongue on your clit, how to delve the muscle into your entrance, and that you loved being teased with kitten licks. It felt almost professional the way they talked about your pussy - like you weren’t there. Like it wasn’t attached to you and you weren’t actively moaning at each flick of Armin’s tongue. Eren held down your thighs to keep you from squishing Armin’s head between them, still guiding him on what to do. “Use your finger on her clit again,” he instructed and your legs shivered. His tongue was keeping a steady rhythm in and out of you while his thumb reached up to rub delicious circles on your bundle of nerves. Eren looked proud watching him make you fall apart. “Keep going Armin, she’s gonna cum.” He picked the pace up, and consequently your hips started to rise off the bed. Armin’s face had your pleasure smeared across it as you bucked and pushed your pussy further against his mouth. You were losing control, begging Armin to go faster. “You want Armin to make you cum?” Eren asks you and you cry out a yes. “Armin is making you feel good baby?” and again you are saying yes.

“Yes, yesss. Mmm. I’m gon’ cum,'' you announce and Eren watches as you fall apart with his friend’s face attached to your pussy. When you come down and after a few more gentle licks, Armin’s head pops out from between your legs and he looks dazed. His lower face glistens with your fluid and his mouth heaves trying to take in much needed breaths. He barely gives himself time to process before he’s already wanting to be inside of you.

“Is that ok, Eren?” he asks, even though he’s not sure what he would do if the answer was no. Eren nods, but adjusts your position to be on top of him. He has you propped against his chest as he sits up against the headboard. The dizziness of making you cum fades once he realizes what he’s about to do, growing unsure of himself.

“What’s wrong?” Eren inquires and Armin can’t hold back a blush. Scratching the back of his head, he stares down at the two of you. “Look at her Armin, she wants you too,” and he’s right. You are squirming on top of Eren, your body anticipating what was about to come. Eren makes a show of grabbing your tits still under your shirt. He tweaks at the nipple, keeping his gaze on his friend.

“You won’t be mad?” It was a silly question to ask after he ate you out like a starving man, but he couldn’t help it. Eren didn’t want to admit his reasons were entirely selfish. He loved spilling his seed inside of you, promising one day to give you his kids. He loved watching you squirm as he edged you for hours, reducing you to tears and snot as you begged for release. He especially loved seeing you reach your peak in public, the idea of being caught incredibly arousing to him. He loved how you would do anything he asked of you; He was absolutely going to love you taking his best friend so good for him. All he could do was shake his head ‘No’ for now.

Armin undoes his belt, hands shaking as he pulls his pants down - his briefs joining after a moment of silent contemplation. His cock slaps against his stomach, the tip angry with fat drops of precum spilling out of it. It’s fairly long, but not as thick as Eren’s. He crawls on the bed to join you two. His breath is shaky, looking down at you, and he can't help but squeeze the base of his length before gliding his hand up and down. Eren’s own hand reaches down to your pussy, playing with your entrance again.

“I’ll warm her up for it,” he tells Armin, sliding his middle and ring finger inside of you. You whine at the intrusion and he curls them inside you. He wastes no time hitting the spot that makes you throw your head back. “Kiss her, ‘Min,” he orders him. Your pink lips are wet with your spit and your eyes are half-open, lost in the feeling of Eren’s fingers. You ask Armin to kiss you when he doesn’t move at first. When his lips hit yours, Eren picks up the speed. You’re moaning - struggling to keep your lips pursed. The kiss is wet and sloppy and Armin is stroking himself a little faster listening to the squelch of your pussy. “I think she’s ready,” and Armin doesn’t allow himself another moment to reconsider.

He pulls away from the kiss, lining himself up to you, and pushing himself in. He doesn’t acknowledge that you might need a moment to adjust, he just buries himself all the way in, his voice straining, “Oh shit”. You let out a sharp moan, feeling him bully his way into your tight cunt. Once he’s in he can’t help himself from moving. You can also feel Eren rocking against your backside, matching the rhythm of his best friend’s cock going in and out of your sopping pussy. His pupils are blown out, enamored by the scene in front of him. He pulls your legs back to try and get a better look, causing Armin to go deeper than before. The both of you moan simultaneously at the new angle, your gummy walls massaging his dick perfectly, the head reaching the spot that makes you see stars. You’re completely out of it, drool seeping onto Eren’s shirt as your head rested against his chest. Eren doesn’t even notice - too entranced. Armin’s perfect cock pulls out of you, glistening with your slick, before pounding itself right back in. “It feels t-too good. I can’t last much l-longer..” his moans are high pitched - he completely lost himself in the feeling of your pussy taking him so perfectly. “F-fuck. You’re too perfect,” he hisses, choking out sobs. He’s so overstimulated by how tight you’re squeezing him, how everytime he pulls out your pussy desperately clings to his cock. And the noise - he will never forget the noise. You are so wet - your arousal now leaking down your thighs and smearing itself all over his balls.

“Cum in her, I don’t mind,” Eren promises. Armin picks up speed and he’s completely lost now. His moans are more like pathetic whines. He’s praising your pussy, thanking his best friend for allowing him to cum inside of you. Allowing you to milk his cock so perfectly. He rocks into you a few more times before he reaches impossibly deep, spilling his load. Eren wonders if it's dangerous for his cock to be this hard. You’re clawing at Eren’s thighs and Armin is crying out. He continues to cum, his dick twitching as his semen sprays your walls. He was babbling out a prayer as he came, thanking every deity he could think of that could have possibly made your pussy so perfect. Once Armin finally pulls off of you, his chest heaves, watching some of his fluid spill out of your perfect center. Eren’s fingers reach down to plug you up and Armin could have passed out at the filthiness of it all. “I gotta make sure it all stays in,” he tells Armin. He’s pulling down his sweatpants with his other hand, careful not to move the one keeping Armin’s cum buried in your hole. He shifts underneath you, making it so you’re laying now. “I think my dick would work better keeping it in,” he comments, mainly to himself. You’re squirming on top of him, excited for his thick cock to replace his fingers. He barges in as roughly as Armin - desperate to feel you squeeze his whole length. He makes quick work - fucking Armin’s children back up inside of you. “You think she can hold both of our loads, ‘Min?” Armin’s mouth is almost on the floor listening to his best friend’s dirty talk. “Fuck-” Eren can’t help but curse out. From his friend’s perspective he could see a mixture of fluids build at the base of Eren’s cock, creating a ring around it. The squelching sounds were overwhelming - along with your constant breathy moans. You were completely drunk off of their cocks. They were in awe with how well you took them - how good the attention of your pussy felt. Armin felt himself growing semi-hard, almost jealous Eren was feeling the heaven he just felt. You were truly an angel. “C’mere and rub her clit,” Eren spat out another order that Armin would be too stupid not to follow. He sat at the side of you two, his fingers reaching your nub.

You choked out a sob, “‘Min, you’re s-so good at that,” and he truly was. His fingers were soft and fast and he knew just the right speed to get your pussy clenching on Eren’s cock.

“G-god beautiful. You like him playing with your pretty pussy? Fuck! Squeezing me so tight. ‘M gonna cum inside you. Give you a baby, would ‘ya like that? Gonna breed you so good. All with Armin’s help, huh?” You're lost in his words, his cock - Armin’s delicate fingers. You come loud - you begin crying and reaching for Armin’s hand. He smacks it away, continuing his assault on your clit as Eren pounds into you. One arm is holding you down against him, the other spreading your left thigh open to make you take him well. He’s praising you, “Fuck- this tight pussy baby… ‘feels so good. Want me to come? Want me to mix our loads? Won’t know whose baby it is” His hair is flat against his forehead, almost completely covering his eyes. He can still see though, he’s watching his best friend relentlessly rub your clit and holding your hands so you can’t stop him. He’s overstimulated by the sight and his dick is twitching while rope after rope of cum shoots out of him and into your perfect pussy.

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

The two boys take their time cleaning you up - not before they spend even longer watching their mixture spill out of you. They both take their turns shoving it back inside of you before watching it dribble out of you again. Armin can’t help himself from teasing your clit a few more times while Eren’s finger plays with the juices falling out of you. He teaches Armin a thing or two about the importance of aftercare, and the two of them clean you up in the bath.

Whilst watching Armin soap up your body Eren heavily considers making this a weekly occurrence.

655 notes · View notes

sillysillygoofygoose · 6 months

Text

Miguel's Personal Hairdresser

*wavy/curly haired, dilf, dad bod! Miguel propaganda!! Miguel is literally 40, i do not even care*

"I look like a neglected dog, baby." Miguel stares into the mirror, ruffling the grown out undercut that cascaded down his neck before huffing in annoyance.

"Noooo, I love your hair, Miggy! You look so handsome, you CAN'T cut it... those men at the barbershop always mess it up, they don't know how to do it." You whine, rushing into the bathroom where your older boyfriend is grabbing at the slightly frizzed waves framing his masculine face.

"¿En serio? They don't know how to do their jobs, baby?" Miguel smirks, glancing down at your tempered form as you begin opening and closing drawers frantically, pulling out a plethora of products.

"I think I've been going to Mateo since before you were even born..."

"Okay, you are NOT that old."

...

Miguel never paid too much mind to his hair... he just didn't care. Not until he met you, at least.

You couldn't care more, always resorting to brushing back stray whisps when cuddling with him, wrapping a tighter wave around your finger, watching it unravel.

Miguel didn't truly understand how much you loved his hair until you almost fell to your knees one particularly hot summer, after he swore he was gonna shave it all off.

...

"You're taking such good care of me sweetheart." Miguel hums as you massage at his damp hair, gently untangling his thick hair.

"Only the best for my man." You smile as he slightly readjusts his broad body in the stiff kitchen chair you dragged into the bathroom, pudgy arms crossed across his chest. His sharp but smiley eyes follow your movements as you section his hair off, the hair clip barely latching onto the small amount of hair you separate. You feel him tense under you as you reach towards the hair scissors resting on the counter.

"You have to trust me, Miggy. Do you trust me?"

"Mm course I do, baby."

...

Miguel laughs in response to you telling him to stand up, readjusting the skeletal-like chair (that was making his plump ass way too sore) away from the mirror as to not "ruin the surprise". As you re-situate, Miguel quickly glances down at the tiled floor, secretly breathing a sigh of relief when he doesn't see his entire head of hair resting at his feet.

Grabbing his soft stomach, you walk him back to the chair, patting his hip to have him sit down before you pump a dime of curl cream into your hands, smoothing it through his hair and finger coiling some especially droopy waves. Miguel rests his eyes as he feels your fingers dancing all around his head, completely releasing the weight of his head into your hands when you scrunch his strands up to the crown of his head, face heating up when you kiss his forehead.

"Sooo handsome... you're so pretty, Miggy. " You hum and Miguel swears he's seeing stars. Hearts pounding in sync, Miguel pulls you closer by the waist, thick hands skimming up and down your sides before he slightly lifts up your top, cranning his neck to press his lips to the exposed skin. He feels so sleepy, so intoxicated, and you can tell. His eyes slump in on themselves, half shut as he dreamily stares up at you. Your touch was putting him to sleep, like a big, strong baby.

"I'm almost done... and you look very dapper." You giggle, releasing his curls as you move to grab your diffuser.

...

"Ahhh, okay, okay!! Baby, you look soooo good! Tell Mateo to move over, I'm taking his chair."

Miguel chuckles as your excited hands block his vision, feeling you shake and jump out of pure pride.

"Okay! Three, two, one, tada!!!!!" You gasp, almost in surprise of your own skill as Miguel grabs his glasses off of the counter and pushes them onto his face.

"Maybe you're right baby, poor Mateo... you're gonna put him outta buisness." Miguel leans towards the mirror, smiling in astonishment at how curly his hair can really be when nourished.

"You like it?" You hug his chubby side as he continues studying himself.

"I do, baby. I love it. You really worked your magic on me, huh? Thank you bebe."

...

"Do you think you could dye this?" Miguel's question catches you slightly off-guard, making you turn to look at him as he sits on the couch. There he is, your big, beautiful man absent-mindedly twirling a unique wave around his finger as he read a comically large novel. The strand lacked the color of the rest of his dark-chesnut hair, marking his many years of being, simply put, human. It layed against his tan forehead, isolated and bold.

"Why would I do that?" Your shocked tone tears his attention away from his book, furrowed brows forcing a small laugh from his throat.

"Well... don't you think it makes me look... old?"

Unsure of himself, feeling silly, he mumbles almost to himself as he returns to his book.

"Aye, put the book down. You know how beautiful you are?" You sit yourself on his lap, holding onto his cheeks as he places his book mark into the inner spine of his book. You feel him softly chuckle against you.

"I'm serious." You reiterate, face stoic.

"I'm very lucky to have you. So good to me... I just hope you know I can keep up with you." Miguel smirks, covering up his slight slip of insecurity, both of his hands encasing your hips.

"Mhmm... why don't you remind me?"

Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo

Gotta get back into it, feeling so rusty 😫

#fem reader #size difference #age difference #miguel o'hara #miguel headcanons #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #dadbod!miguel

717 notes · View notes

sapphic-gardn · 1 year

Text

Dancing With The Devil

dbf!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: Your dad’s best friend, Joel Miller runs into you at a bar on the night of Halloween. He’s a gentleman and takes you home.

Warnings (18+ mdni): age gap (not specified), drinking/alcohol, intoxication, swearing, pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, angel, baby, babygirl, etc.), f!masturbation, oral f!receiving, fingering, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v (pls dont do this irl), creampie, dirty talk, joel calls reader a slut literally just once, if im forgetting anything pls let me know!!

Word count: 4.9k

a/n: Hi!!! I’ve been working on this one shot for awhile—I really hope it is everything and more for you guys! I am posting this in place of Willow pt. 3 due to a bit of writer’s block but trust it will be posted soon!! As always, please let me know what you think. I love you so much.

Also thank you to @gracieheartspedro for helping and encouraging me on this one. I can’t even begin to thank you enough, my love.

—

Halloween is your favorite holiday. For one night out of the year, you get to be anything you want, unashamedly. It’s an escape from reality, a dip into another life. And confidence comes easily when you’re pretending. You scan over your costume in the reflection of the floor length mirror in front of you—a too-tight red dress adorns your curves, black fishnets hug your thighs, and bright red stilettos accentuate your figure.

“C’mon! We gotta get to the club before the line gets too long,” your best friend appears behind you and places the headband with devil horns in your hair, “There. Perfectly slutty.” She rests her head on your shoulder and admires your costume in the mirror. She is dressed as your opposite, an angel.

“Stop panicking! The uber is still five minutes away, Pheebs.” Phoebe’s a worrier, and is never ever late anywhere, so the fact that you two are leaving fifteen minutes later than you originally planned, has her buzzing with anticipation.

While Phoebe paces back and forth at the foot of your bed, you dig through your makeup bag for your favorite red lipstick. You slightly over line your cupids bow and blend the color with your finger. You lean back and study yourself for a minute, you look hot. Phoebe interrupts your thoughts when she starts yelling about the Uber driver’s arrival. With a tug of your arm, both of you are trampling out of your apartment door in your six-inch heels on wobbly legs.

The club is suffocating. In your drunken state, the strobing lights and the bodies grinding up against you make it so much worse. Phoebe is dancing with some guy dressed as a vampire, she looks extremely unimpressed so you decide to take it as your chance to leave. You pull Phoebe away from the handsy man and shoot him an apologetic smile—you’re not sorry at all.

You feel like you’ve been resuscitated when you step out into the cool autumn air outside.

“Thank god you rescued me from Dracula. Guy was about to get his fake blood all over my white dress.” You and Phoebe share a laugh and lean against the brick wall behind you. The alcohol seems to hit you harder once removed from the chaos inside of the club. You scan the buildings lining the street in front of you and a bar name captures your attention. It’s the bar where your dad frequents with his buddies after work, one of his buddies being a painfully gorgeous dilf, Joel Miller. You know for a fact your dad won’t be there because your mom dragged him to some Halloween work party she wouldn’t stop talking about over the phone yesterday.

An idea pops into your brain and you can’t shake it, so you point to the bar across the street and tug at Phoebe’s hand, “Let’s go there! It’s probably less crowded and I’m not ready to call it a night,” you give your friend your best puppy dog eyes, and she begrudgingly gives in with a roll of her eyes and an okay, fine.

The dive bar smells of stale smoke and spilled beer. Random sports games are televised on multiple screens against the far wall and a jukebox sits in the corner playing a classic rock song from the 80s. It has character, you think to yourself. It’s a breath of fresh air compared to the marble top bars and sparkling chandeliers that decorated the club you just left. You and Phoebe definitely stand out from the crowd of middle-aged men loitering around the place. It feels a bit intimidating getting checked out by pervy old men as you strut to the bar, but it’s too late to turn back now. Plus, you are looking for a certain someone.

You scan the hefty crowd and search for the man with familiar brown curls and a scruffy beard. You double check every table and bar top with no luck, he is definitely not here. With a disappointed sigh, you chug your vodka cran and tell Phoebe you’re ready to head out.

Just before you get up to leave, you hear your name being called by a husky voice behind you. You would know that voice anywhere. You turn around, and there he is in all his glory. A tight, navy blue t-shirt hugs his chest and his biceps are about to tear the seams. He greets you with a half smile.

“Mr. Miller! What’re you doing here?” You act surprised, at least you try your best to act surprised with the alcohol running through your veins.

“Sarah’s out trick or treatin’ with some friends, got tired ‘a givin out candy, decided on gettin’ a beer to pass the time.” He scratches the back of his neck and looks at you sheepishly, “uh, I think I should be askin’ you what you’re doin’ here. You tend to hang at a bar with a buncha old farts?”

You giggle, “Not necessarily, no. Pheebs and I were just having a nightcap after clubbing. Oh! How rude of me. Phoebe, this is Joel. Joel, this is Phoebe, my best friend.” You gesture between the two of them and give Phoebe’s shoulder a light squeeze while her and Joel share a quick handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Phoebe. Well, I should let you girls go on your way. I’ll see ya around, then.” As you bid your farewells to Joel and start to walk forward, you nearly fall flat on your face. Maybe you were more drunk than you thought. “Woah there, easy, darlin’.” Joel grabs you by the hips to steady you before you trip over your own two feet.

“‘M sorry, Mr. Miller. I think I drank a little too much. I’ll be okay, we’re gonna order an Uber anyway.” Your hand lays flat against his chest and you bashfully look at him through your eyelashes. You’re so close to him, you can smell his cologne. Pine? Maybe a hint of sandalwood. You can see the specks of gray hidden in his beard and the crease between his eyebrows. He is so beautiful, you just keep repeating that to yourself over and over as you study his face. He is also too old for you and your dad’s best friend, you remind yourself.

“Nonsense. I’ll give you girls a ride home, your old man would kill me if I let ya walk outta here barely able to stand up on your own.” Joel keeps a hand firmly planted on your upper back as Phoebe leads the way to the exit.

Joel’s truck is an old Chevy with a single bench. You’re sandwiched between Joel and Phoebe. Phoebe’s head is resting against the window as she drifts in and out of sleep, but you are wide awake and laser focused on your thigh brushing Joel’s. Electricity shoots through you with each bump in the road, pushing you and Joel closer together. The music on the radio plays at a low volume, so low you can hear the way Joel breathes. The way his breath hitches in the slightest every time you two touch unintentionally.

You’re giving Joel the directions to Phoebe’s place, which is difficult considering you’re drunk and everything is mush in your brain. But by some miracle, Joel finds Phoebe’s apartment building, and you walk her to the front door, hugging her goodbye.

When you get back in the truck, you return to the spot on the bench right next to Joel.

“Y’could move over now, if that’s more comfortable for ya, darlin’,” you hum in acknowledgment at Joel’s suggestion.

“Mmm. Don’ wanna. ‘S comfy, you’re so warm,” you’re definitely playing up your drunkenness but it doesn’t hurt if it means you get to be a little closer to Joel. You nuzzle your head against his muscular shoulder and sigh in contentment as you feel yourself getting sleepy.

Joel chuckles, a deep laugh that vibrates through his chest straight to your temple, “Alright, sweetheart, whatever makes ya happy,” he then lifts him arm and stretches it across the back of the seat, letting you cradle into his side. You soak in the moment, relishing in the way the lights whir past you along with the houses lining either side of you. The way Joel’s breathing is steady but his heart rate is just as fast as yours. You can smell his detergent on his shirt and you can feel the way his muscles tense and relax with each turn he makes with the wheel. You could probably do this for hours, just driving down random streets, the radio quietly playing being the only sound in the confines of the car. But, all good things must come to an end, such as pulling into your apartment complex’s parking lot and untangling yourself from Joel’s warm body.

No words are exchanged on the way to the lobby, or the elevator, or even walking down your hallway, just a silent reassurance by Joel’s hand on the small of your back—a message—I want to make sure you’re okay. When you get to your door, you purposely fumble with the keys and wobble on your heels. Your plan works out perfectly.

“Here, lemme get the door. I’ll walk ya to bed and get you a cup of water once we’re inside.” Bingo.

Joel swings the door open and you stumble past the threshold, immediately kicking off your stilettos. His hand finds its way to the small of your back again, gently leading you to your kitchen. You plop down on a chair and watch Joel search the cabinets for a glass. You are more than capable of telling him where they are, but you like watching the way his biceps stretch the fabric of his shirt every time he reaches to pull open a cabinet door. Once he finds a glass, he fills it with the tap and saunters over to you.

“Here ya go, angel. Gotta get you hydrated.” Joel holds the glass out to you, and you guzzle it in a few gulps, “Thirsty girl, ain’t ya? Feelin’ any better?”

“Mhm. Much better. You make it better,” a close lipped, content smile paints your features as you set the glass down on the table and get up from your seat. Now chest to chest with Joel, you place a hand on his chest and look up at him. With the heels now discarded, he towers over you. You note how his pupils dilate a bit when your eyes meet.

“Let’s get you to bed, sweetheart,” Joel feels his chest tightening with each second your hand lingers on his sternum. He wants nothing more than to close the distance between you two and lose himself in the feeling of your lips intermingling. But he knows you’re off limits, you’re his best friend’s daughter and too many years his junior. So he locks those thoughts somewhere in the depths of his brain and grabs your hand to lead you to your bedroom—just so he can make sure you’re okay, at least that’s what he tells himself.

Joel enters your bedroom first, absorbing the intimate space you call your own. Old vinyl records line your shelves and plants sit on your windowsill, overgrown and cascading to the oak flooring, a book sits on your nightstand with a pair of glasses sitting atop the cover. He scans your walls and notes the art you’ve chosen to decorate with, modern paintings of silhouetted bodies intertwined. Your desk is littered with pencils and journals, one is open to a sketch of a tree. It smells like you, vanilla and jasmine, he feels himself getting intoxicated each time he inhales. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you moving around, you’re fumbling with your dresser, digging through the drawer trying to find something.

“Jus’ sit down, darlin’, what’re you lookin’ for?” Joel gently moves you aside and guides you to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I’m just looking for one of my big sleep shirts. It’s an old Texas Longhorns shirt. You can’t miss it, it’s probably at the bottom of the drawer somewhere.”

“Alright, angel. I’ll find it for ya.” Joel has his back turned to you as he rummages through the balled up shirts in your drawer. You take this moment as your cue to make a move. You slowly start sliding your thin straps down your shoulders, careful to not expose your chest just yet. “Found it!” Joel seems elated that he found the shirt you so desperately wanted, it’s endearing. When he returns his attention to you, the piece of clothing falls from his hands to the floor beneath him. You are leisurely pulling your dress down over the curve of your breasts, maintaining eye contact as you do so.

“Can you help me get this dress off, Joel? Please?” You feign innocence and gaze at him with doe eyes. Joel is looking anywhere but you, clearly fighting his inner voice telling him what’s happening is wrong.

“I think you can do that yourself, honey. I don’ want your daddy t’kill me,” Joel stares at the ceiling, cursing whatever higher power there is for putting him in this situation. He feels you step closer to him, the tension palpable in the air shared between the two of you.

With your dress pulled just below your breasts, you take both hands and gently pull Joel’s head down to look at you, “Joel, I know you want this just as bad as I do. We’re both adults. I won’t kiss and tell, c’mon.” Your hands trail from his jaw to his neck, to his collarbones. Joel sighs, his face contorted into a look of contemplation.

“I-I can’t, darlin’. I want to, trust me, I really want to,” Joel engulfs both of your hands in his own and presses them to his heart. He is searching your eyes, for some sign of reluctance, but all he can find is pure lust.

Your hands travel south, skimming his clothed abdomen, over his soft belly, until your fingers hitch on his waistband, his words contradicting the growing bulge in his jeans. You run your nails side to side under the band of his boxers, making him visibly shudder. Then you lean in while standing on your tiptoes, and you gently place an open-mouthed kiss on his neck.

Joel grunts at that. All reason leaving him the moment your plush lips touch his bare skin, “Fuck it,” Joel grabs you by the jaw and kisses you hard. It’s electric, the kiss knocking you into stone-cold sobriety. With his other hand, he grabs you by the waist and starts leading you backwards to the edge of the bed.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, you pull Joel down with you onto the white duvet. Joel breaks the kiss to admire your exposed chest, “Fuuuuck, baby, you’re so beautiful.” Joel takes one of your tits in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub, while his hand pinches and plays with your other nipple. He removes his mouth from your tit with a loud pop, moving to the other one with the same treatment.

“F-fuck, Joel, need more, please,” you’re whining and writhing beneath him. It feels so good but you need his hands in your lower region now or you might explode. Joel peels off the rest of your dress, leaving you in small spandex shorts over your fishnet stockings. With one swift motion, Joel discards the tight shorts onto the floor.

Joel can barely form a thought as he looks at the sight before him, “No panties, baby?” Your pussy is bare beneath your stockings, making Joel salivate at the obscene vision.

“Please, Joel, please. Need you so bad. Wanted this for s-so long, I touch myself thinking about you,” you are on the verge of tears, aching to be touched where you need it most, but Joel is just gawking, taking pride in how he makes you squirm. Joel stands from the bed, leaving you confused and visibly more upset, “W-what are you doing?”

“Show me, baby.” Joel has a smug smirk on his face as he watches you grasp what he’s implying.

“Wha-what?” You are baffled, you are mostly naked, sprawled out on your bed for Joel to take you however he pleases and he’s asking to watch you touch yourself?

“Show me how I make you feel good, angel. Wanna see your pretty little fingers fuck that tight pussy.” The brashness of Joel’s words make you audibly moan. Instead of taking the black fishnets off, you start to rub yourself through the holes over your clit. You never break eye contact with Joel, gathering the slick between your folds and pushing a single finger in, using the heel of your hand to stimulate your clit.

Your eyes rake over Joel’s chest, his shirt taut against his burly stature. With just a few thrusts of your fingers, you’re close, it’s the fastest you’ve ever approached an orgasm, but Joel palming himself through his jeans while he watches you get off is unbelievably hot.

The coil in your lower belly snaps and your eyes roll back, you’re chanting Joel’s name like a prayer as you fuck yourself through your climax.

Joel groans and quickly approaches you on the bed, capturing you in a deep, passionate kiss before pulling back, “That was so hot, baby, nearly had me cummin’ in my damn jeans. I gotta taste you.” Joel trails kisses down your sternum, to your abdomen, to your mound, and stops just before your most sensitive area. He looks at you for approval, you furiously nod your head, eager for whatever he has in store for you. Next thing you know, he is ripping the fabric of your stockings that covers your pussy with no effort at all.

“Look at that pretty pussy, all for me. It’s mine,” the hunger in Joel’s eyes is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, all-consuming and animalistic.

“All yours, Joel. Fuck! All y-yours,” you tug at his hair, grounding yourself with the soft feel of his brown curls just to confirm that you aren’t dreaming.

He starts with a long stripe along your folds, gently prodding his tongue into your entrance. You’re still so sensitive, your thighs are shaking as he holds them down over his broad shoulders. He’s sucking and slurping you, twirling his tongue over your sensitive nub every so often. He’s taking his time, learning what pleasures you most, experimenting with different techniques. He is memorizing the way your pussy feels throbbing against his tongue, how you subtly grind your hips onto his nose to chase your high. You taste so sweet, like nectar dripping from a ripe peach, he could lick and suck and fuck you with his tongue all night.

Joel is relentless, eating you in earnest, he removes his hand from the grasp on your thigh and brings two thick fingers to your mouth. You obey his command, taking both fingers in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and using your tongue to lubricate them, the taste of Joel blanketing your taste buds. Joel removes his fingers from your mouth and places them at your entrance, sliding in one digit with ease and fucking you slowly before adding a second. He is knuckles deep in your pussy and his fingers are much bigger than yours, stretching you with a delicious burn.

“Baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight, fuuuck,” Joel comes up for air, never letting up the pace of his fingers entering and leaving you.

The rough callouses on his fingers provide a whole new sensation. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible. Every ridge a foreign sensation that has you reeling. He suddenly crooks his fingers to hit the spongey spot in your pussy, sending you to cloud nine. He knows just the right places to focus his fingers that have you bucking your hips up. When he returns to sucking your clit, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of your second orgasm.

“You’re so close, baby, I can feel it. Let go f’me,” your body obeys Joel’s words and you unravel before him, letting your whimpers and moans roar through the four-walls surrounding you. Joel slurps up every drop of your nectar like a man starving. You push his head away at the full-body feeling of overstimulation.

“Oh my god, Joel. Holy fuck. I need to suck your cock, please,” Joel gets up from the bed and you sit at the edge, immediately reaching out to undo his belt. He helps you undress him, tossing his shirt, jeans and boxers aside with the pile of your clothes laying on the floor. His cock springs to attention, his tip weeping and red. He’s big, much bigger than anyone you’ve been with before.

The shock must be present on your face when Joel takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilts your head up to meet his eyes, “Don’ worry baby, we’ll make it fit,” he glides his thumb over your plump lower lip then leans in for a gentle kiss, a silent gesture of reassurance.

Your nimble fingers find his shaft, the skin feels silky beneath your touch, your fingers barely touching as they wrap around the girth of him. You gather the precum leaking from his tip and spread it along the length of him. You pool your saliva and hold eye contact with Joel as you let a thick string of spit dribble from your lips to the tip of his cock. You spread it slowly up and down the length of his dick.

He throws his head back and hisses, “Shiiiit, that’s it, good girl. Get my cock nice and wet for that pretty little mouth of yours. Open up,” at Joel’s request, you part your lips and flick your tongue over his slit before wrapping your lips around the fat tip.

Joel grabs a fistful of your hair at the nape of your neck and gently guides his dick further into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. You release your hand from the rest of his shaft and brace yourself on his muscular thighs as he slowly starts to fuck your throat. You are breathing through your nose, trying to swallow him further with each thrust.

You peer up at Joel through wet eyelashes, admiring the look of sheer bliss on his face. His other hand is lightly pressing the base of your throat, feeling his cock go in and out.

With one swift thrust of his hips, he holds his cock in place down your throat. You are gagging, tears streaming down your face from the pressure and your red lipstick is smeared everywhere but your lips. You can’t help but touch yourself listening to Joel’s grunts and heavy breathing.

“This turn you on, babygirl? You like your throat getting stuffed with this big cock? Hm?” Joel releases you from his grip to let you answer. A string of spit and precum connect your lips to the tip of Joel’s cock. You are gasping for air, holding yourself upright with one hand on Joel’s thigh, and still rubbing your clit with the other.

You can barely form a coherent sentence, “Y-yes, I l-love it, J-Joel, s-so h-hot,” Joel chuckles, pulling you up by the armpits and meeting you halfway in a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He guides you to lay back on the bed, hovering over you, holding himself up on his forearms.

“Baby, you got a condom somewhere ‘round here?” Joel starts to reach for your bedside table, you grab his wrist to stop him.

“No, Joel, wanna feel you,” you guide his hand to your breast and place a kiss on his jawline.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, darlin’.”

Joel fists his cock and brings it to your clit, lightly tapping the bundle of nerves, making you moan. He drags the tip through your folds, gathering your slick before slowly inserting the head of his cock into your entrance. Your face contorts with pleasure and pain, he’s barely in and you feel the stretch.

“You okay, baby?” Joel cradles your face with his large calloused hand and searches your eyes, a look of concern washed over his features.

“Yes, yes. Keep going, please,” you plead with Joel. Joel nods his head and places a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. He goes slow, you can feel every ridge and vein of his dick as he sinks into you further. The massive stretch of his girth burns so good.

When he bottoms out, you can feel him in your guts. You’re so full of him, so consumed by him in every way. He stills, letting you adjust to the size of him. The burning you feel quickly fades and you’re left craving more.

“Move, baby. Please, Joel…move,” Joel starts with shallow thrusts, examining your expression with each movement. He loves the way you catch your bottom lip between your teeth to contain your moans. He basks in the way your sweat mingles with his, a way of marking you as his own. His primal instinct takes over and he pulls out completely before plunging into you hard. Your pussy is squeezing his cock with each deep thrust.

The mixture of sex and Joel’s musk fills the air, you’re so close to him, you can see a drop of sweat forming at his hairline. His curls stick to his forehead and his lips are red and puffy. His mouth hangs open as he watches where your bodies meet, his shoulder muscles are flexing each time he fucks into you. Just the picture of him before you can send you into oblivion.

Joel brings his thumb to your clit and starts rubbing it in small circles. Your eyes roll back, you feel the white hot fire burning in your lower belly.

“Nuh uh, babygirl. Look at me when you cum. Wanna see those pretty eyes,” Joel’s words shoot straight to your core, and when you meet his gaze, you completely lose it. Your climax hits you like a truck, it completely consumes you, sending you to another dimension.

You can’t contain the noises that emerge from you, it’s a string of incoherent curses and Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel. As you come down from your high, everything is blurry, except for Joel. He looks so fucked out, watching you expose yourself to him in the most vulnerable of ways.

Joel suddenly pulls out, scoops you up and tosses you down onto your belly, “Get on your hands and knees f’me, baby,” you scramble onto all fours and arch your back, looking over your shoulder at Joel. “Jus’ like that, fuuuck, fuckin’ perfect little slut for me, ain’t ya?” Joel calling you a slut makes your pussy clench around nothing. With no energy left to spare, you just moan in response.

He thrusts into you with no warning, making you yelp. At this angle, he feels impossibly deeper, the tip kissing your cervix each time he shoves you full of his cock. Joel’s grip is bruising on your hips, sure to leave marks that will fade to purple by the morning. His pace is frantic, sending your body into overdrive. Every one of your nerve endings feels like they’ve been lit on fire, the overstimulation sending you into a fucked out daze.

Joel grabs you by the hair and yanks you up into a vertical position, his hand snakes around your throat while his other arm is secured at your waist. You can feel his coarse stubble on the shell of your ear, his lips whispering filthy words that make your pussy pulse around him. The room is spinning, your only hold on reality is the feeling of Joel surrounding you in his strong embrace.

Joel’s fingers find your overstimulated clit, he’s pinching and rubbing, making you wriggle in his tight grip.

“One more for me, you can do it, baby. Can you be my good girl?”

“I-I c-can’t,” your pleas fall on deaf ears, Joel doesn’t let up in the slightest.

“Yes, you can, baby. You’re alright, I gotcha. One more, that’s all I need,” you just nod in response, letting yourself feel every sensation lighting you on fire.

Joel’s lips find your pulse point, he begins sucking and biting, then licking and soothing each mark. You feel him everywhere and it’s too much. Your whole body tenses as your fourth orgasm of the night takes over your body. Joel has to hold you upright as your body convulses and your vision goes white.

As you feel your climax nearing an end, Joel’s thrusts become sloppier and start to falter.

“I’m gonna cum, baby. Where d’ya want me?”

“Inside, please, Joel. ‘M on the pill. Want you to fill me up,” at the sound of those words falling from your lips like sweet honey, Joel stills inside of you, whimpering and moaning in your ear. You feel the thick ropes of cum coat your walls and drip down the inside of your thigh.

Joel pulls out with a hiss, the action leaving you feeling incredibly empty. He falls onto his side on the bed, taking you with him. You turn in his arms to face him, admiring how peaceful he looks.

You relish in this moment, noting the way your bodies are intertwined. The sound of Joel’s heartbeat rings in your ears and settles in your memory. You mindlessly draw hearts on Joel’s chest with your pointer finger. He stares at you through hooded eyes, on the verge of sleep.

“What are you thinkin’ about, beautiful girl?” Joel kisses your forehead, you feel him smile against your skin.

You giggle, giddiness consumes you, “Jus’ thinkin’ about how you just ruined every other guy for me,” it’s a true statement, but you aren’t disappointed in the slightest. This is all you want, now and forever.

“I ain’t lettin’ any other guy come near you again. You’re mine now, sweet girl.” Joel pulls you closer against his chest and kisses the top of your head, inhaling your scent, basking in it.

A toothy smile creeps onto your face, “I’m yours, Joel.”

—

a/n: if you made it this far—hi! thank you!!! this is my first time ever writing smut so please be kind :,) sending you so many hugs and kisses <3

taglist (i just used my taglist for willow im sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged):

@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @alejaa-a @cool-iguana @littleshadow17 @planet-marz1 @alyhull @joeldjarin @lizzyervs @joeldjarin @casa-boiardi @loveisacowboyyy @thegrlwholivedd @ashleymsnodgrass @ilovepedro @dilfspitdrinker @bastardmandennis @breakfastatjoels @gracieheartspedro @chaotic-mystery

#dbf!joel #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #dbf!joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel x reader #joel miller apologist #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel tlou #dbf!joel miller

1K notes · View notes

rainba · 5 months

Text

Here it is... The fic where Luka kidnaps both his darling and Kairos.

TWs/tags: human furniture, dubcon, kidnapping, slight depiction of violence, pet play, NSFW, mind break, cucking (?), dark content, use of shock collars

Reader is GN, however, there is one paragraph where the reader is gendered. The asterisk* will mark the paragraph with afab reader, and the one in parenthesis is amab. :3c)

MDNI! 18+

In one previous post, I mentioned that Kairos and Luka do live in the same universe and city– and in a few other posts, I mentioned that they’d never share their darling. If one of them tries to kidnap darling, they’ll just report the other to the police.

Then another idea came up, a way that Luka could circumvent that predicament: Luka figures that Kairos would instantly report him if he kidnapped his darling. So… In order to stop that from happening…

Luka would kidnap both you and Kairos.

Luka’s house is definitely big enough to keep both of you. In the beginning stages, he’ll keep Kairos locked up in the attic while he keeps you in the basement. The basement is much cozier– meanwhile the attic is all dusty, hot, and muggy.

Between you and Kairos, Luka will be much, much nicer to you. He’s (quite literally) obsessed with you, so of course you get the better treatment. He cooks your favorite meals and feeds them to you by hand. He gives you plenty of water and always showers you in attention– sometimes he’ll even place a TV down in the basement and let you watch random stuff. You know, just so you don’t get too bored. He wants you to feel at home–! When you learn to accept your new life, he’ll spoil you rotten.

But for Kairos..? Luka is absolutely brutal.

Luka will rub in the fact that he beat Kairos in “winning you.” He’s simply just the superior man– the superior partner. Luka loves you too much to ever let you go. After all, you're the only person that has ever made him feel anything at all. And he really drives in the fact that you belong to him, and that Kairos will never have the chance to even touch you.

Luka will walk circles around Kairos as he mocks him relentlessly.

“Nobody is looking for you.”

“You’re pathetic. Disgusting freak.”

“They’re all mine, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Kairos will scream, squirm, and cry as much as he possibly can– but nobody can hear him. Luka is right: nobody is looking for him. Kairos doesn’t have any family. He doesn’t have any friends. He’s stuck in this hell forever.

To keep Kairos alive, Luka gives him his leftovers. He dumps it onto the dirty ground and drags Kairos next to it, commanding him to “eat up.” Kairos is forced to pathetically writhe on the floor and eat without his hands– all because Luka refuses to untie him. As for water, Luka forces Kairos to drink out of a dog bowl.

Most of the time, Kairos can’t hear anything. Luka’s house is eerily quiet at night. And during the day, Kairos can sometimes hear the sounds of children laughing and playing outside, or he’ll just hear Luka casually going about his day as if there aren't two people locked up in his house.

It’s torturous.

Over time, Luka will get you to warm up to him– call it stockholm syndrome kicking in, if you will. Or maybe you already loved him and he just needed to build trust with you. Either way– you eventually upgrade from the basement to his bedroom. And that’s when things get infinitely worse for Kairos.

He’s not just listening to Luka going about his daily routine now– no, now he has to also listen to the two of you fucking multiple times a day. The way you’re moaning out another man's name… The sound of the bed creaking and banging against the wall… Kairos finds himself choking and sobbing as he’s stuck tied to the chair. Sometimes he starts to dissociate and pretends that he’s somewhere else.

Most of the time he pretends that the two of you just got married, and he’s playing out different scenarios of honeymoons in his head.

After a few more weeks or months go by, Luka will grow bored of keeping Kairos tied up in the attic. If he’s gonna keep a hostage, he might as well put them to good use. So what does he do with Kairos?

He uses him as human furniture. Forces him to also be a pet.

You’re horrified as you watch Kairos crawling around the house with a gag in his mouth and a leash attached to his throat. If Luka feels bold enough, he might even have the words “Luka’s Bitch” decorated on the collar. Oh– and it’s not just a regular collar, either. It’s a shock collar.

Any time Kairos acts out and disobeys Luka, he earns himself a shock so powerful that it causes him to seize and collapse onto the floor.

…This entire time, you thought it was just you in the house. You didn’t know there was another person. You’re not alone.

It makes your stomach churn.

And Luka encourages you to use Kairos as furniture as well. Use him as a footrest, use him as a table or a chair– do whatever.

Over time, deep down, incomprehensible and guilty thoughts begin to appear in Kairos’ mind. Things that made him once want to throw up now make him feel… Funny. He’s so happy that he gets to see your face again–!! He’s finally reunited with the love of his life, it’s just a shame it’s under such horrible circumstances.

Kairos doesn’t mind if you use him like furniture. It’s okay if you do it. But he loathes it when it’s Luka who’s using him.

The difference between you and Luka is like night and day. While Luka berates and degrades him, sometimes even depriving him of basic necessities, you always sneak around and give Kairos lots of love and extra food.

Kairos always breaks down and cries in your arms when you show him kindness– he’s so very thankful for it. But be sure that Luka doesn’t catch you. If he sees you being sweet towards Kairos, he’ll harshly punish Kairos and then fuck you right in front of him. Every time.

Kairos always feels so pathetic as he's forced to watch you getting ravaged by Luka. The way you're moaning under his touch... The hot, sticky sound of Luka's cock sliding in and out of you... All of this happening while Kairos is tied down and unable to do a thing. He's so fucking hard, and there's nothing there to relieve him. Luka punishes Kairos if he dares to look away.

In order to gain more privileges, both you and Kairos need to work to gain Luka’s favor. If the both of you prove that you’re capable of being trusted, he might give you more freedom. He’ll let you look out the windows every now and then– might even let you use the kitchen. He's much more open to giving you privileges than he is to giving Kairos any.

Except, of course, he always hides all of the sharp objects in the house. He doesn’t want you two to have access to weapons. And if you try to poison him even once, he’ll immediately make the kitchen permanently off limits when he's not around to watch you.

Also, over time, another funny thing happens. Luka doesn’t really like punishing you outside of sex- he'd much rather shower you in rewards. He’d rather save the roughness and punishments for more intimate settings. After all, he’s trying to earn your love– not make you hate him. So, what does he do instead?

Every time you act up, he’ll drag Kairos by his leash and punish him in your stead. After all, he knows that you care about Kairos and his wellbeing, so he uses that against you.

Oh, you just tried to break out of the house? You tried to poison Luka? Well, that deserves a proper punishment. Luka will tie you to a chair and force you to watch as he brutalizes Kairos. Whips him with a belt, kicks him in the stomach, takes away his food privileges for the next 48 hours... It’s horrible.

And in a way… This would cause Kairos to start policing you, too. Which is exactly what Luka wants. Kairos really, really doesn’t want to get punished. I mean, deep down, he’s absolutely happy that he gets to take the beating instead of you– it’s like he’s your hero!! …In some weird and twisted sense. But also, he really doesn’t want to get punished, so… Please don’t act out.

However, when the months keep rolling in, Luka will slowly warm up to Kairos. All of the punishments will grow less severe– and sometimes, Luka just lets you all off with a warning. It’s obvious that a big change has happened when instead of Luka just fucking you in front of Kairos, he lets him join in on the fun.

Except Luka doesn’t really want to touch him– so, he’ll let you touch Kairos instead. It’s what Kairos always wanted– Right?

Kairos should thank him.

Luka will tie his arms behind his back and keep him firmly locked to a chair, completely naked. Kairos feels so ashamed that he’s hard– but god, he can’t help it. He’s so excited to finally be able to touch you, his darling, the person that should’ve always been his–!

And Luka will make sure it’s enjoyable for everyone. Luka will strip you of your clothes, but he might put you in a cute pair of thigh highs, just for the fun of it. Luka will grab you by your hair and push your face into Kairos’ lap as he utters one phrase, “suck it.”

You’ll do as you’re told– you don’t have much of a choice. Kairos’ eyes instantly light up as you wrap your lips around his sensitive cock.

Finally– his dreams are coming true…!

Sort of.

As you suck him off, Luka will lift your ass into the air and he’ll fuck your tight hole. He’ll keep his right hand on your hip while his left hand grabs the back of your head, lacing his fingers into your hair. He doesn’t care if you can barely breathe– he’ll shove your head all the way down on Kairos’ dick as he bottoms out inside of you. Occasionally, he’ll lift your head up and lean in to kiss you on the lips.

It’s all so hot– but ultimately, it’s all for you and himself. Luka will always make sure you cum, that’s his top priority. His second priority is to make sure he gets to fill you up. As for Kairos? Well… Luka doesn’t care all that much.

If Kairos doesn’t cum? That’s too bad. It’s Kairos’ own fault that he didn’t come undone. But if he does cum? That’s alright too.

However, don’t expect Luka to make you stop sucking. Kairos will be squirming in his chair whining like crazy as you overstimulate him, his body trembling from the sensation, but you can’t stop until Luka says you can stop.

The second scenario is much more likely to happen than the first. The moment Kairos looks down and sees your fucked-out face choking on his length… He’ll cum right on the spot– every single time, without fail.

After the first instance of Luka letting Kairos join in the sex, he earns a lot more privileges. He can finally sleep in the same room as you two–!! But he’s not really allowed to rest on the bed. He’ll be forced to curl up and sleep on the floor– but hey, it beats the attic any day, right?

Luka also takes off Kairos' shock collar. Since Kairos has proved himself to be a good boy, he's now allowed to roam around freely. Hell, sometimes Luka will pet Kairos and give him some praise. It... Makes Kairos feel strange, but in a good way.

Kairos is also now allowed to cuddle you sometimes. When you’re simply sitting on the couch and trying to relax, Kairos will immediately hurry over to your side and rest his head in your lap– desperate to feel even an ounce of affection from you. He might ask you to stroke his hair and kiss the bruises Luka left on his skin.

* If Luka is at work and Kairos knows there’s no cameras around, he might beg to suck on your tits– you know, for comfort reasons! It would really make him happy to have them in his mouth– it would be therapeutic, even.

((And if you’re a guy, Kairos will instead beg to frot you. While it’s a lot more dangerous and the punishment for getting caught is heavy, Kairos is willing to risk it all. Don’t worry–! You can just sit there and relax; Kairos will be the one doing all the work with his hand.))

You know how stressful and traumatizing this whole situation has been for him… He needs to be comforted so badly… So.. Pretty please?

In some sick and twisted way, over time, Kairos grows to like the way things are– perhaps his mind does this as a way to cope. He tries his hardest to find all the positives in living this kind of life:

> He gets to spend every minute of every day with you!

> He doesn’t have to worry about talking to strangers.

> He doesn’t have to work and maintain a job.

> He doesn’t have to cook and clean for himself.

The list goes on. Kairos gains all of these benefits, and all he has to do is give up most of his basic human rights and submit to another man…!

Okay, Kairos still admits that is pretty bad. But… At least he has you…! That’s all Kairos really cares about in the end!

For Luka? He’s satisfied with the way things are. Not only does he not have to worry about Kairos ratting him out to the police, but now he has both the love of his life right by his side and a fun little pet to take his stress out on.

So… Everyone… Wins? In the end? ❤️

#yandere oc #yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #yancore #yandere fic #luka being a little silly #yandere x darling #yandere x you #inconsistent art style strikes again lmao #wait lol this is my 100th post yippe #luka art

338 notes · View notes

bandgie · 10 months

Note

Hi! I ABSOLUTELY LOVED your Beast of a Man tarzan!smut. Seriously it was so engaging and you wrote him so well (HES SO HOT AGHH). He's such a hot character idk why others don't write about him, I'm starved for Tarzan fics...

Could you please make a part 2 to the smut? You have such a great/smutty idea going I would love to see you continue it!!

It would mean everything to me!

( ^◡^)

a/n: hi yes thank you so much and ofc! it's been so long since I've written smut on Tarzan so please bear with me! (fic anon is referring to here)

synopsis: You have successfully brought back the ape-man for research. Despite behaving like an animal, he's a lot more human in more ways than you originally thought.

warnings: MDNI 18+, recording during sex, oral (m!), 69ing, semi-public oral sex, cumming in mouth (m!&f!), rough throat fucking (f!rec), cum eating (m!&f!)

2.8k words

"Who the fuck is this?!"

Your colleagues screamed and ran upon seeing who, more like what, you brought back to camp. They hopped up on tables and held up papers as weapons. They eyed you both wearily, on the verge of tears as you stood just a few feet away.

"I think that's a bit extreme," you sigh.

The ape-man was beside you, clinging onto your leg like a child would do with a mother. He, too, was very wary around these strangers. You could hear him grunting and pulling at you as if keeping you from getting too close.

Cute yes, but this would mean it would take a lot of work to build trust in the entire group.

Slowly, the fellow researchers began to try and communicate with the man. Talking slowly and softly, just like you showed them to. All of you agreed that this being could be the missing link, the answer to the question anthropologists have tried to find for decades.

It took over a month for everyone to be comfortable around one another, but of course, another issue was raised.

"So does he just not have a name?" Professor Porter asked.

As of now, you all were just calling him 'the ape-man' or 'hey you' to get his attention. It never crossed your mind to give him an actual name.

"We're not gonna name that beast," Clayton butted his way into the conversation. Clayton, as big and strong as he was, seems the most afraid of your new friend. He's hostile, rude, and arrogant. Even if the ape-man cannot understand the words thrown at him, he can feel them.

The best thing to do in these situations was to ignore Clayton, he just loves the sound of his own voice.

"No," you turn your attention back to the professor. "Not that I know of at least. Should we come up with one?"

"Oh great," there's heavy sarcasm laced in Clayton's voice. "Here you are naming a dog you're not even gonna keep."

"With no due respect Clayton, please shut the fuck up," Terk, the youngest of you, speaks. Terk is small for his age, but he has built. A hairy man who's lively, talkative, and one of the natives that live here. He and the ape-man get along well, a little too well sometimes.

Clayton flips Terk the bird.

"A name for him would be nice, yes." The professor looks as though he's sweating from the tense atmosphere. "Do come up with one dear, I think the missing link would rather you do it."

It's no secret that the ape-man prefers you over the other researchers. He's constantly at your hip, following you like you have an invisible leash on him. Your colleagues, however, don't know how close you two actually are.

The conversation stays in your head for the rest of the day. A name. A name. Something everyone has yet is unbelievably difficult to come up with. Hundreds of possibilities run through your mind as you carry out your daily tasks. Even the ape-man, who's used to you ruffling his hair, grows confused about your behavior.

Nightfall comes with everyone in their tents and you still haven't come up with a name.

With a groan, you turn on your side to see the very person who's making you struggle already looking at you. His eyes are dark, but the candle in your tent lights up his features just enough. You reach out and brush a lock of hair out of his face, watching how he moves to try and get you to touch his skin.

You settle with resting the palm of your hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb over it.

"A name," you tsk. You narrow your eyes and let your gaze travel over his body. He needs to look like his name, that's a must. "Hey, do you know what a name is?"

He doesn't answer.

"Something to call you. That's a name. Do you have one?"

He stares at you.

Well, this is going to be harder than you thought.

Pursing your lips, you say the first name that comes to mind, "Edward?"

He reacts to that. His calm expression turns into a scowl, bushy eyebrows coming together. You quietly laugh and shake your head, "Not that one okay."

"Tony?"

He frowns.

"Taren?"

He pouts.

"Okay, okay. I think I got it...Garrett."

The ape-man groans, mimicking the behavior he's seen you do hundreds of times. It shocks you to see him act so human, so you. It's equally adorable as it is terrifying.

He's gotten closer to you, a breath away. The proximity used to freak you out, but you've learned it’s how he shows his affection. His trust.

The ape-man is waiting for you to say a word he likes, a sound that comes off your tongue magically. Judging from your facial expression and earlier absent behavior, this is an important task for you.

You want the name to be strong, versatile, and not easily replaceable. The being you've found is one-of-a-kind, it's only fair his name is as well. You play with a few letters in your head, bouncing them in your mind until you think of one that suits him.

"What about Tarzan then? Do you like that one?"

His pupils dilate, watching your beautiful lips pronounce the word. His word.

"Yes."

You gasp, sitting up abruptly. Your sudden movements make him panic as he sits up with you. He scans the tent to find an intruder while you sit there stunned.

He spoke. The ape-man no! Tarzan just spoke to you. He understood language and used it, even if it was just a mere word. A one-syllable answer that has shaken you to your core.

"Oh my god. You just, Tarzan you just spoke. Holy shit, say it again. I need to capture this on video." You ruffle through your bag looking for your camera.

Tarzan stops searching the tent and looks back at you looking as confused as ever. Like he didn't just display human speech in a mere month.

Quickly, you pull out the camera and hit record, aiming the lens at Tarzan's hard, yet beautiful features.

"Repeat what you just said," you look at him through the monitor. Instead of complying, Tarzan stares blankly into the lens. "Do you like the name Tarzan?" You press.

No answer, his eyes flick from the red light to your eyes.

"Come on! Just tell me whether or not you like the name." You're starting to grow impatient. At this point, you're convinced he's just being an ass.

Finally, he adjusts his seating position. Tarzan glances down at his crotch then back up to you, then back to his crotch. You follow his gaze, trying to understand what he's trying to say. Then it clicks.

Compensation. If you want him to do you a favor, you have to do him one as well.

"Are you being serious?" You sigh at him. Tarzan gives a faint nod to you. Even if he can't do so, you swear you see him smirk. Asshole. Setting the camera down, you angle it towards the two of you. Might as well have fun with it.

You crawl your way towards him, parting his thighs slightly before giving him a playful glare, "You're such a man sometimes."

Unlike before, Tarzan wears cargo shorts rather than a mere piece of clothes from last time. Professor Porter made it clear that if he was to hang amongst you all, clothes were necessary.

They suited him nicely, even now. The way the material hugs his toned thighs, how his cock bulges through the shorts even when he isn’t hard. You couldn't help but run your hands along his muscular legs, finding his crotch.

He groaned as you palmed him, straining to not thrust his hips up. Tarzan learned to be patient with you, especially in the presence of others. Most animals didn't care whether they mated alone or in their pack. Even if Tarzan was raised by those animals, the thought of others hearing the sounds you make for him is repulsive.

Instead, he has to settle for brushing your hair from your face as you undo his buttons. Delicate fingers unzipping the seam until his half-hard cock sprouts in your face.

It doesn't matter how many times you've seen his dick, it makes your pussy quiver every time. All you can think about is how perfectly it stretches you, how the tip slides against your cunt deliciously. Your mouth salivates at the memory, and you let your spit drool off your tongue to land on his cock.

Tarzan loves the sigh. A pink tongue just hovering over his length. He also remembers the feeling of your hot mouth on him. The way your lips slowly come closer to the crown of his head, how your breath wafts over him. It feels euphoric when you finally make contact with him, mouth enclosing his flushed head.

It's so warm in your mouth, smooth as you lightly suck on him. The hand on your head slightly grips your hair, a sign that he likes the slow pace you've set. You hum around his cock, taking him a little deeper as you widen your jaw.

One of your hands makes way to grip the base, pulling the skin upwards in a stroking motion.

This makes his hips jerk, gagging you for just a split second. Your wide eyes look up at him, small tears peeking at the corners. Tarzan gives an apologetic look, but the sight of your teary eyes and pretty lips around his cock makes him fuck up toward you again.

You pull away from him, earning a whine as Tarzan throws his head back dramatically.

Maybe he thinks you're going to stop as punishment, but it's quite the opposite. Your cunt is sopping from tasting him, even if it was for a brief moment. Even if you have a task at hand, and your camera is still recording for 'research,' you have your own needs to take care of.

Tarzan is none the wiser as you put a hand on his bare chest and lay him down. He eyes you curiously but lets you push him all the way down before hopping on top. His eyes widen as he's faced with your clothed cunt. Underwear the same color as your tongue that holds the strongest smell of you.

He doesn't need any directions as he dives his nose into you. Tarzan is obsessed with your natural smell. His nose immediately grows damp from your wetness, his tongue poking out to lick the juices that leak out.

Softly moaning, you take a hold of his cock once more. You pump it a few times before taking it into your mouth. It's surprising to see that he's not humping in your mouth like normal, but he's so distracted with your pussy that he can't seem to bother noticing his own pleasure.

It's hard to focus on his hard length as his teeth tear off your panties. You gasp when you hear the fabric split, but it turns into a whine when his tongue finally makes contact with your bare cunt.

Tarzan has to grip your hips to keep you still. As much as he would love for you to grind on his face, he needs to have his meal first. His tongue runs over your folds, finding that little bud you love so much to be touched.

He sucks on it and pulls, stretching your clit. Your legs shake and you have to pull away from his cock to catch your breath. Lazy hands stroke his hard-on as you look back. You clench at the sight of his unruly hair peeking above your ass, the sounds his mouth makes as he laps at you.

Turning back to your literal task at hand, you find the energy to take his cock once more. You unhinge your jaw and exhale, taking Tarzan deeper and deeper until your eyes roll back. You hollow your cheeks and suck, moving your head back up until just the tip remains in your mouth, and go all the way back down.

Now Tarzan can feel the bliss of your mouth on him. He moans into your pussy and slightly jerks his hips up, making you gag around him once more.

Feeling you work so hard makes him want to reciprocate. He shakes his head left and right to try and bury himself deeper. He uses his grip to force you further onto his face. Tarzan's tongue finds the squeezing entrance that he's breached so many times. He digs his tongue into you, finally getting a taste of you from the source.

He's guiding your hips so you could drag your pussy against him how you like. Tarzan can feel your hips trying to pull away from him as the feeling of his tongue has gotten too much. And it has.

You're trying to distract yourself by deepthroating him, but it's no use. All you can feel is his experienced mouth, how he remembers every detail he knows you like. You can feel your orgasm approaching, and how it builds in your stomach rapidly.

Tarzan feels your legs shake. Your thighs trembling and giving out, full lower body weight on his face. He can taste how the wetness has changed, thicker and tart. Tarzan knows this taste like the back of his hand. You're going to cum, give him that white cream he loves licking out of you.

You've completely stopped paying attention to his dick. A part of you should feel bad for neglecting him, but you can't seem to care as Tarzan's tongue fucks you. Instead, you find yourself humping his face, his mouth following as you approach your high.

You squeal as you come, clamping a hand over your mouth as you finish. Warm gushes out of you, body quivering as the eager man under you happily drinks it all. Tarzan gulps and slurps until he's beginning dripping from the corners of his mouth.

He takes and takes until you're the one having to tell him no more, that you can't handle another orgasm.

Tarzan hears the desperation in your voice, the way you plead. It takes strength for him to pull away from your pussy, a soft growl emitting from his chest.

Then his thighs wrap around your head, securing you in front of his cock. You have no time to question him as you involuntarily take his cock into your mouth.

There's so much pre-cum dripping from the slit that all you can taste is its saltiness. He's throbbing, fucking his hips into your mouth as he holds you still with his legs.

All you can do is take it. Lips wrapping around his girth as he desperately slides his dick in and out. You gag and silently plead for Tarzan to be gentler, but he's having none of it. Your hands warp around his thighs to steady yourself, your head bobbing uncontrollably to match his movements.

Tarzan twitches in your mouth once, stilling his hips deep into your throat. Tears immediately prick your eyes and fall down your face, and you swear your vision goes black for a fraction of a second before he pulls out. You get the chance to gasp for air as he lines up his cock to your lips again and shoves it back in.

You think you might pass out. You're at the mercy of Tarzan, and he's still unable to see how much stronger he is than the average man. Your mouth is nothing but a fleshlight to him as he makes you choke around him. It makes you feel like a toy, a warm hole for him to fuck his seed into.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

The familiar twitch in his cock occurs again. Once, twice, then three times before he unloads in your mouth. Hot spurts of his cum find themselves in your throat, forcing you to gulp it down.

Tarzan's hips slow, letting his cock drag against your lips before he finally pulls out. You cough and pant as his orgasm drips from your tongue.

His thighs release you and you promptly plop down on them. You feel his hands rub soothingly over the curve of your ass, up and down your thighs. And an extra apology, Tarzan presses a kiss to your throbbing pussy. You chuckle and kiss his thigh back before sitting up, hoping off his face.

You have to crawl to grab your camera, breathing a sigh of relief to see the red light still shining. You aim the lens at his face as he too sits up. You can see the arousal on his face from eating you out, his swollen lips, and messy hair.

"So," you start. "Tell me, Tarzan, did you like that?"

Tarzan's lips quirk into what you think is a smile before he looks at you directly through the camera.

"Yes."

a/n: holy fuck I dont think y'all know how hard this was. I kinda went all out for the first one so the second one was hard as hell to match lmaooo. I physically and mentally can't do a third installment. this is the final one sowwy also I added some characters from the film! hopefully you caught that, I made Terk human, Tarzan needed a friend even if it's a fanfic

#smut #tarzan x reader #tarzan smut #tarzan 1999 #tarzan and his mate #tarzan #beast #jungle smut #tarzan of the apes #tarzan au #tarzan fanfic #holy fuck what do I tag??#professor porter

677 notes · View notes

imsilay · 7 months

Text

HAMARTIA

MNDI +18, cw: oral (f!receiving), fem!reader ( i don’t think there’s much to warn :/ )

cw: 2.3k

bigger font as promised lol and not proofread sorry :/ my stomach hurts :(

(i need my mouth on his abs. and hands it’s a need trust me. idk the cr please tell me.) it’s royaidni on X guys :> -i might buy patreon for him-

You swore this was the day that you’d kill this man as you tightened your hands around his thick neck. He smirked under his mask, you were strong. You were strong enough to take your anger out of him and knock him to ground when he asked for a fight with you. His words were taunting, irritating even as he did so which was something you happened to not like. You didn’t really knew if he was doing it on purpose. You suspected that he was trying to get the best of you.

And you were undoubtedly right.

He absolutely loved the way you clenched your fists when someone challenged you. He observed you long enough to know you wouldn’t say no to any competition. What a brave girl you are. “You… are weak.” he managed to choke out as you breathed rapidly. Oh how beautiful you were… From the blood dripping down from the edge of your lips to your heaving chest. You were a mess, he wasn’t easy on you, he knew what you were capable of, he knew if he let his guard down you could easily knock him down which was predictable and happened as soon as he froze for a moment. He froze because he couldn’t believe he really punched your precious face, because he couldn’t believe how pretty you were when you spit the blood pooled on your mouth and jumped on him like a lioness. He felt his whole body shivering underneath you, not daring to move away, not daring to do anything to ruin the positions of your bodies because Gott- your form rose heavenly on his stomach.

The angle was just right, he could see- nein, he could feel the way you looked down at him, was it another way of saying him he’s nothing different than a bug without words? Did you hated him enough to not even utter a word? That couldn’t be the case because he saw the burning lust in that gaze, felt it in his bones. It flowed into his skin from your palms around his neck.

“Said the man who’s about to die from my hands.” you snickered, breath coming out short and rapid. You felt a hot sweat rolling down on your spine as he chocked out a dry laugh. It was chocked because you had no intention of loosening your grip. “It would be a honorable way to die.” he finally got a hold of your wrists and pried your hands from his neck.

“But not today, Maus.” he lead your body down from his stomach to his crotch. Oh he loved the dumbfounded expression of your face, eyes going wide and lips forming a small ‘o’ shape. Because what was the thing poked your ass, you hoped it wasn’t his gun- or maybe you hoped it was. You were frozen and only remembered to get up when he tilted your chin up with his nose. You pressed your knees firmly against the floor to have the leverage to push yourself off of him. “Sit down.” he barked, both of you knew you could try more and eventually break free from his grip but you were a little curious thing. You wondered if he was really getting off from fighting with you. You were also curious when you accepted his challenge, wondering that König, the colonel who never talked with anyone unnecessarily but a few people, came to you on his own.

Did you loved to be on top? Or did you prefer to let your partner have the control? Would you like if he had you in a mating press and emptied his balls deep inside you until you break and cried for him to sop? Or would you prefer to ride him until he was overstimulated and panting like a dog?

These were the overwhelming thoughts he had every single night since he saw you kill a enemy which he claimed as his target. Along with 10 others. Your skin was hard, not squishy and soft like he was used woman to be. Your skin was scared from the bullets and sharp knifes. Your skin was tortured, beaten, overworked even. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to cause you any pain. The punch he landed on you made him want to cut his wrist off and feed it to dogs. You weren’t fragile but he loved how sensitive you were. Just like him, you weren’t so used to have someone so close and intimate. He could feel your heartbeat pick up as he pressed his clad lips on your pulse.

You were being oddly obedient and he loved it.

You we sitting on his lap like you weren’t choking him to death just a minute ago. You could be a witch or siren, whatever you name it, because there was no other explanation for your enchanting presence. He felt weak, for the first time in a decade he felt like he could drop to his knees and worship you like a temple.

You weren’t patient as you were strong. You wanted to feel him grow harder, you wanted to feel him as impatient as you so you could have him. So you started to grind your hips against his throbbing length, successfully drawing a growl from him. But not without a smack to your hips.

“Behave. I didn’t knew you were much of a slut. I thought you were just an arrogant brat.” he mumbled, not bothering to leave the confines of your neck. So you grabbed his hair with his mask and yanked his head back. “Are you going to fuck me or do i have to continue where i left of?” you hissed, wrapping your now free hand around his nack and getting irritated with his calmness. “Don’t wanna hurt you Maus, but you give me no other choice.” he purred yet there was irritation matching with yours, maybe even more. “Sometimes you forget who you’re talking to, and i’d be more than happy to fix that.” he pushed you back onto your back and you landed on the ground with a thud. You didn’t expected him to push you off after nuzzling you like a stray cat. You thought you had him in your palm, but he wasn’t like others. You were so shocked that you couldn’t do anything to stop him when he pressed on your torso and tugged down your pants. You wanted to kick him which you could with your current position but something primal in you prevented you from it. You wanted to let him put you in your place, you wanted to see if he could.

Now he was the one breathing heavily as he looked down at your exposed panties. The black ones, his favorite. He saw you in them one time, by accident if you believe. And since then he couldn’t get any sleep. He gritted his teeth, this was his lucky day. “Don’t move.” he retreated his hand from your torso so he could pull your panties with both of his hands. As he pulled down the fabric his hungry eyes drank every bit of skin that was being exposed to him. You thought he was doing it slowly on purpose, you thought he was teasing you for being touch starved but you just couldn’t notice how his hands were trembling and he was thankful that you didn’t noticed. “This wet from a little fighting and grinding? You’re pathetic. And i’m your colonel. Aren’t you ashamed? The strong soldiers everyone’s afraid of is getting wet for her colonel, i bet they would kill to see you.” his words hit just the right spot, it traveled through your veins and rushed your blood pressure. And of course that cocky bastard noticed that. How couldn’t he? His eyes were never leaving you!

But you wanted him to do more than looking, you wanted to feel his hands, mouth, tongue- god you wanted him all over you. “Oh look at that…” He parted your folds with his thumb and catched that glob of arousal dripped from you. “Do you need something in your pretty pussy? I got something you’d like.” he snickered, how needy you were… He’d never thought you would be so cute under him. You’d be hot of course but not that cute. He imagined every possibility but the way you covered your face with your forearm and the way you lifted your hips to chase his thumb never crossed his mind. “Give it to me.” your voice came out muffled by your forearm but he could understand you very loud and clear. “Nein Maus. You forgot to ask properly.” he dab his thumb on your clit, slowly and lightly. “What do you want?” he asked again and you knew it was your last chance. He never liked to repeat himself. You threw your head back when he licked your slit before you could answer. He swallowed thickly and pressed his fingers into your thighs. You had to answer before he lost his control and did something he would regret. “I…” you hesitated, he was your colonel but he was the one who offered all of this. You looked for your morals but they were no where to be seen when König was between your legs, looking into your eyes with his halfway lifted mask and your slick on his chin. “I want your cock. I want to feel you, i want you to fill me up until i am full of you.” oh your sweet voice, your sweet sweet words. “Braves Mädchen. That was what i wanted to hear.” he practically growled when he buried his fingers and face into your cunt. You gasped by intensity of both at the same time. His long and thick fingers dragged along your walls and curled just right as his lips wrapped around your sensitive bundle of nerves and sucked and lapped until your hips rose from the ground by his merciless attack. “Slow down!” you grabbed his hair to pull him away but you couldn’t use your strength due to his teeth gently grazing your clit. Your hips twitched and you could feel the overwhelming pleasure pooling within you, ready to explode with a poke. And the poke was his fingers hitting your g-spot. You pushed his head away- at least you tried but he didn’t left his place. His tongue lapped every drop you offered as you squirted all over him and the floor. “Mein, mein, mein.” he purred as he pulled his fingers out of your quivering hole and kissed your pretty pussy all over. Along with your strong thighs and throbbing clit. He sucked and licked your folds like he’s making out with your pussy. You were still twitching and trying to calm down after your intense orgasm. “König, enough.” you whined, your whiny voice strange to even yourself. Oh but did he love it. He’d kill to hear you whine and beg him again.

“I can’t understand what you’re saying, Maus.” he mumbled against your slick pussy and continued to lick until there was nothing left from your orgasm. He wanted it back. Not just your sweet slick, he wanted your sweet cum on his tongue. But he had to leave your pussy as his cock throbbed painfully in the confines of his pants. He straightened his back and that was when he could get a glimpse of your glossy eyes. His heart kicked his chest like it was trying to rip his skin and present itself to you. ‘Beautiful, pretty, cute, but mine, mine, mine.’ His twisted mind screamed as he hungry gaze drank the sight of you. You were just laying there obediently, for what? For your colonel to sink his cock into you and fuck the breath out of your lungs. He felt the globs of precum dripping from his slit to wetting his boxer. “Open your pretty legs f’me Maus.” he taunted, looking for a defiance or a little light of irritation in your eyes at his order but surprisingly you brought your hands under your knees and pulled your legs open for him. His whole body shuddered and he felt like he had been blessed by the god himself. His hands were erratic as he unbuckled his belt and fished his cock out. He hissed when his painful erection was finally free. He grabbed the base of his cock as he opened your folds with his long pointer and middle fingers. “You’re so ready f’me.” he breathed, you’d think he was talking to himself. He dragged his cock up and down on your slit until it was covered with your slick. You twitched and moaned everytime his tip kissed your clit. As he pushed the tip in he caressed underneath of your thighs and stopped under your knees where your hands hold your legs up and open for him. “Leave it to me Maus.” he softly pushed your hands and replaced it with his. You tried to breathe and loosen up for him but he was just so thick and it felt like he was splitting you open. Finally when he was fully inside you and filled you up like you wanted, you felt him pressing your thighs further into your chest. Your breath left your lungs when he snapped his cock out and inside you to the brim. He thought you couldn’t feel any better than engulfing him like a glove but when he left you breathless your walls clenched around him like you wanted to milk his balls empty.

After a few thrust your moans got louder and louder along with the clenching of your walls. "Scheiße Maus. If you continue to squeeze me like that-“ he grunted and picked up the pace. He felt like he couldn’t hold back anymore but he wanted you to cum with him. So he brought a hand between your impossibly flushed bodies and drew firm circles on your clit until you cum with a screaming of his name and he painted your walls with his relase.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :* and i love to reply all of them :>

#silay #könig #konig cod #konig x you #konig x reader #könig smut #könig x reader #konig x y/n #könig fanfiction #konig smut #konig imagine #könig modern warfare #konig modern warfare #konig headcanons #konig x female reader

582 notes · View notes

munsster · 2 months

Text

through and through

A/N: i am simply a sucker for a gorgeous, dumb blond (gif creds: @captainsamerica)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: The most stubborn man in the world has no one to blame for that gunshot but himself. And all over again, you'll clean him up. 1.5k words

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, angry but soft reader, dumb stevie, slight wound description, its okay: everybody lives, cursing, pet names (honey, baby, darlin), friends to lovers

"God, Steve, do you know how frustrating it is when you do this?" You're ruffled: wide-eyed and feverish. Upset might better describe your situation. Peeved, maybe. Because you're used to his recklessness. Always have been. Even when it was only news articles and rumored hospitalization.

Arm hooked around his waist, he slumps his weight against you while you struggle up the ramp of the jet. Labored breathing fans the nape of your neck, and you can feel his tension loosening with the grip of his consciousness. As he plops down into a hard metal seat, he deflates. Especially with you beside him, he's happy the scolding of his life is at hand.

And all he can do is laugh. Of course he's gonna be okay; he's pumped full of the purest steroids long-dead alchemists could come up with. Which is why he's not worried. So far from worried, in fact, that he's grinning. You're fingering antiseptic against the fresh gunshot wound in his abdomen, and he's sitting pleased.

"You couldn't have been a little more careful?” You grumble something about how stupid he is. That he's doing it on purpose to mess with you. Leave it to Steve to get shot just to piss you off. "Try to risk your life a little less, 'kay? God, it's so frustrating.”

He chuckles, hissing at the brief pain and slumping down in his seat. "You said that already."

"I'm not afraid to hit a dying man—"

"Hush, I'm not dying." He coughs up a wet gargle, and the panic sets in. You press a square of gauze against the shallow divot with the heel of your palm. Lazily, his head lulls to the side, and he can't stop himself from smiling at the crease between your brows.

"That's exactly what you'd say if—"

"—If I was dying, yadda yadda. Have I ever lied to you, darlin'?"

His palm cups yours on his hot skin. Each breath presses taut muscle into the gentle curve of your fingers. Your face screws inward, but he puts a little pressure on your knuckles, trapping them in place on his stomach.

"How'm I supposed to know?"

His tongue clicks behind a smirk, and he blinks his eyes shut. It's because he's exhausted, you know that. You should let him rest, but after losing all that blood, you also figure it's better if he stays conscious until you're sure he'll make it. There's no reason for this time to be different. But then again, there never really is.

"Hey, hey, hey, don't do that. Keep 'em open, please."

"Aw, come on, honey—fine"—his vibrant blue eyes startle you as he goes back to staring—"As I was saying—I'm not planning on dying anytime soon. If I was, I'd tell you so you could smack the deathwish outta me."

"Oh, and I'm just supposed to trust you, huh?"

"Yes, please." He's horrible. The blood he's got left all goes to his head to fuel a stupid grin and the biggest, dumbest puppy dog eyes. No thoughts behind them, just pure nonsense and foggy desire.

"You're the worst," you huff. It kinda stings when you don't chase it with a laugh or a smile. He hates that he's forcing you to be professional. Because unprofessional, unapologetic you is his favorite. A real sweetheart, and he's the one responsible for driving that away.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. More sincere than he's been in his life. Well, this life. It's not often that he gets to open up. He's been Captain for years now. And finally someone calls him Stevie again, and he's screwing it up with his stubbornness. He wishes he could be candid. Taken with life. Unabashed life, all at the tips of his fingers. Yet grabbing on never felt so far away.

He flutters when you scowl up at him, relieved that he gets to be acknowledged by you once more. Excited, suddenly, by the hand on his new scar. Wonderfully exposed by the top of his suit folded at the waist in his lap. And you have to admit, he's handsome. Golden hair flopped into his face, bloodied up by his or someone else's, but still so charming between rattling exhales.

You sigh. "I hate it when you're headstrong."

He perks up from behind the guise of creeping pain. You pay no mind, zipping the first-aid kit up and shoving it back into your duffel.

"Can't you let someone else take the high road? You know it's okay to be the bench guy for one game. Maybe save your life." You shrug, and the guilt washes away from the surface of his skull. He's thrilled again to be here for your bloom as the jet lifts and your ears pop.

"But that's what I have you for."

He hates it because it implies that's all. But that's far from all. You are all. He doesn't know it gives you butterflies because it implies that he has you. And he does. He will.

"As much as I love being your personal nurse, don't you think I deserve a break?" You pout and settle in beside him. He thinks the closeness could make his slow heart start up again. Even with near half his blood left, he'd circulate triple as long as you stay this close.

"C'mon, honey, you know I like when you work for it."

You don't have a second to process before he shifts closer and leans his head back against the tough wall. Your neck goes all hot because he drops his hand in the small space between his thigh and yours. The length of his thumb curiously swipes the skin of your catsuit, and you stiffen.

His breath catches in the dark. Your fingers fit slowly in the spaces of his own, a subconscious squeeze soothing the warm strain built up in all the little slips and slides. And it's okay now. Close like this is good for his ache. He doesn't have to be straight-posture, strict leader in your arms, even if he hasn't been there for very long. He would still like to fold into your warmth like perfect cake batter. Vanilla and streaks of funfetti if you'll keep him in place for a while longer.

"I told you to keep your eyes open, Stevie."

So they snap open. To find you're watching him. It wrecks him wholly to know you've noticed him before. It's so stupid, but he obsesses over the times you're not subtle about it. Like now: wetting the corner of your mouth with the tip of your tongue, pressing the pad of your thumb to his forefinger's knuckle.

"And I told you I'd be okay, darlin'." He feels himself softening. Hot peaches laid delicately into the shell of a tart to bake until golden brown. You could slice through him and take a bite. It would all reassure him knowing you enjoyed the bittersweetness and buttery smooth sinking of your teeth into his flesh.

"Stevie," you coo, lips parted. The gravity of you makes him want to slink closer like a stray cat to warm milk. To dip his tongue in and savor the newness. Cool and better than ever. You could—you do fuel his strength. Every centimeter poured from your cupped palms into—finally—Man. At last. Gold and glimmering. Exposed to weathering but picturesque evermore.

But he looks dazed. Glossed over. On the verge of emotion. And distress bubbles in your lungs.

"D'you need to rest—"

He shakes his head. "Stop thinking about me for five seconds, honey. I think kissing my girl is rest enough," he huffs, "Don't you agree?"

You squint. Smartass. "Actually, old man, it might be better if—"

In a breath, he holds the pretty swell of your chin in his shaking fingers. Mouth close enough to feel the dryness and the softness beneath it all. You gasp, going all pliant at his will. Like angels, too nervous to be impure, he's holding you in place like a statue. Keeping you on edge.

Until you grab his face and kiss him nice and slow. Enough to heal his plight. A new gunshot wound in the form of a pretty lady tearing through his well-grooved chest. Leave all the shrapnel if you'd like. With your mouth in the small of his own, he feels like a dizzy hangover in the middle of a house party. His hands grasp greedily at your waist, turning you and shifting you and pulling. Bringing. Begging.

And, like a minx, like always, like you, you push away with a laugh and wipe his spit from your mouth.

"Been waiting on that for... ever. Feelin' sealed up already, baby," he grumbles.

"Sweet on me now, Stevie?"

He shakes his head with a chuckle.

"Always have been."

marvel masterlist

#my baby my baby 😭#sobs quietly #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfic #hurt/comfort #fluff #x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic #captain america #captain america x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #x fem!reader #friends to lovers

225 notes · View notes