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targaryen-dynasty · 5 months ago

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WHAT IS DESTINED CAN NOT BE AVOIDED. (4/4)

Cregan Stark x pregnant!Targaryen!Reader

WARNINGS: childbirth, swearing

WORDS: 3.5 K

NOTES: thanks to @arcielee for betaing this! <3

One hand is splayed out over the curve of your swollen stomach and the other clings to your maid’s forearm as you take your time climbing the edge of the bathtub to lower yourself in the tepid water, releasing a content sigh with it still being warm enough for some of the pregnancy pains to slowly but surely fade away.

“You may leave now,” you hum, head tipped back against the edge of the bronze tub.

What you don’t notice with your eyes closed is the baffled look the two maids assigned for you exchange, visibly hesitant to leave you alone. One of them, a younger girl whose name you’ve learned is Elia, speaks up first, her voice soft but laced with concern that makes you look at them. “My lady… are you sure you will be alright by yourself? Should we not stay here to assist you?”

You sink down a bit further into the water, chest and shoulders now fully submerged as well. “I am with child, not sick. Rest assured I can take care of myself alone.”

The maid still looks unconvinced, and it doesn’t help that it’s now the older one speaking up. “My lady, ‘tis not meant as any disrespect. We are just concerned about your well-being. You are carrying the Lord Stark’s heir, after all, and–”

The door swings open with a creek that cuts the maid off mid sentence. Your eyes dart over, and you can feel your annoyance subside just slightly at the sight of him. Something about the stay in King’s Landing has changed him a bit. You notice it as you watch how he all but saunters into the room, wearing a loose fitted shirt made of linen with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, similarly loose trousers with a pair of soft leather boots. He has forgone Ice, the large sword resting neatly on the equally large desk standing in the chambers, and opted instead for a simple dagger strapped at his hip, hidden beneath the shirt.

Yet you’d prefer seeing him in his usual leathers and furs rather in the light-eight attire he’s opted for given the warmer climate of the capital.

“And Lord Stark is here to take care of his wife,” he ends the maid’s sentence, throwing his vest over a nearby chair.

Both women turn around to bow their heads politely upon his arrival, giving him a knowing look. “Pardon us, my lord,” the older maid says. “We were merely making sure the Lady Stark was tending to her pregnancy well.”

Nodding in acknowledgment to their words, you spot his gaze drifting back to you. “Thank you for your concern,” he says politely but with a hint of dismissal in his voice. “But I can assure you my wife is in good hands now. You may both go and tend to your other duties now.”

Exchanging a glance once more, the maids curtsey quickly and take their leave under the steel of Cregan’s gaze.

“Thank the gods they’re gone,” you mutter and close your eyes again, sighing softly.

“You make it sound as if they were tormenting you, my love,” Cregan says, undoing the first two buttons of his shirt before he comes closer to the bathtub.

Opening your eyes once more, you all but glare at him. “They were hovering over me like a pair of mother hens,” you snap. “Ever since Munkun gave me that wretched tonic to bring the babe quicker, they have been treating me as if I am about to break, watching my every move as if I’ll faint any second from the smallest exertion.”

Completely unbothered by your grousing, your irritation has him chuckling. He leans forward to rest his hand on your belly, feeling the rather large swell of it. “They’re just concerned about you, my love,” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. “They want to make sure you’re well cared for during your pregnancy. Can you blame them?”

“Do they want to make sure I am well cared for, or is it a command of my brother’s council?” You cock a brow, bringing your hand to rest atop his.

Cregan sighs at your words, knowing that you’re probably right. The council does meddle in far too many things, and neither of you would be surprised if they’d given strict orders to the maids to watch over you.

“Perhaps ‘tis a bit of both,” Cregan says. “Aegon might be concerned for the health of his dear sister, and his trusted council is definitely influencing his worry. But they are not entirely misguided to look out for you, my love. You’re carrying an heir and your health is of utmost importance.”

Not quite satisfied with his reasoning, you roll your eyes. “Yes, I understand the importance of the heir, but I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,“ you huff. “But I do not need a flock of overprotective hens following me around, tittering and fretting over every little thing I do. It would not have been like that had we just stayed in Winterfell.”

“Perhaps not,” he agrees, rubbing your swollen bump. “But we’re not in Winterfell, we’re in King’s Landing, and here your brother is king. His council sees it fit to be overly cautious with you. Complaining won’t change that.”

You can’t help the annoyed sigh falling past your lips as you lean your head back against the edge of the tub, sinking further into the water. “How do you think the wolves are faring without us?”

The change of topic has Cregan laughing softly with the thoughts of your hovering maids quickly shifting to your dire wolves at home in Winterfell. “They are probably fine, my love,” he says, still rubbing your bump despite the rolled up sleeve of his shirt slowly soaking up water. “They are being cared for by our men. They’re tough creatures, those dire wolves. They can take care of themselves.”

“Just like me,” you quip, raising a brow. “And I was not born a wolf – I am a dragon.”

“Oh, that you are,” Cregan agrees. “A fierce and dangerous one at that. But even a dragon might need a little bit of pampering and attention now and then, don’t you think?”

The earlier annoyance and irritation at the maids quickly melts away with your husband’s teasing but comforting manner, making you hum in agreement. Yet you have to admit it’s mostly Cregan’s attention and care showered upon yourself that you enjoy. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Your hand now journeys along the swell of your bump, while you bring the other to rest at the back of his neck, gently massaging it. His attention and care, however, aren’t enough to keep your light demeanor up as a sharp tug makes itself known in your stomach. Your body curls together at that, making you moan out in pain.

Not wasting a moment, Cregan leans forward, trying to figure out what is going on. “Are you alright?” he asks with a concerned voice, his wide, gray eyes locked on your features.

As another pang of pain grips your body, you gasp and clutch the back of his neck instinctively, your eyes widening in realization. “The babe…” you gasp, face twisting in pain as another contraction washes over you. “I think the babe… the babe is coming. Now.”

His eyes widen briefly in surprise, but his instincts kick in immediately. Quickly springing into action, he rises to his feet and reaches for a large cloth. “Let me get you in bed, and then I shall fetch the mae–”

“Just fetch the maester please, this shall be fine.”

Biting back a worried protest, knowing that arguing with a woman in labor would be a futile endeavor, much more with a woman as stubborn as you are, he rushes out the door with a nod of his head and a forced smile on his lips.

As he leaves the room, you’re left alone, body wracked with increasing contractions that force one groan and gasp from your lip after the other. Your fingers dig into the rim of the tub, the realization dawns on you that you might have to give birth right here in the bathtub.

The door pushes open again, and behind your wolf of a man barging into the room is Grand Maester Munkun, his expression not as concerned as your husband’s.

“Maester,” you croak with a strained voice, looking at him as he moves to your side to assess your condition. “Is this normal? The pain, the–the rushed… labor?”

He grimly shakes his head. “‘Tis not uncommon for a tonic to bring on labor earlier than expected when the mother has surpassed her time. And the early onset of labor also does not necessarily mean anything is wrong,” he explains. “The pain you’re experiencing, however, should not be this severe. Let me examine you, my lady.”

You hardly notice your worried maids scurrying into the chambers with towels in their arms when the maester pressed his fingers against your swollen belly, eventually even going lower to feel inside of you. Cregan towers over him from behind, making sure that he does not make one wrong move and ensures your and the babe’s safety.

And only at the maester’s next words seem you and your husband to be able to breathe again. “The babe seems to be positioned properly,” he announces. “And the pains are strong and regular. This is a good sign. For how long have the pains been coming, my lady?”

You grit your teeth through another wave of pain, meeting your husband’s worried gaze. “I’ve felt little… twinges all day,” you manage to say between labored breaths. “But they were so minor, I did not think them worth mentioning.”

“Sometimes the early stages of labor can be mild and easy to overlook, my lady. But now that it is progressing, the pains will become more intense as the babe prepares to make its entrance into the world.”

You suddenly feel a twinge of pain tear through your body like a hot knife, like you are being torn apart, making it impossible for you to hold back a scream. The maids all but hurry to your side at the sight, the older one bringing a soothing hand to your shoulder. “Take deep breaths, my lady,” she encourages, “and then push.”

Two other maids grab your legs and hoist them over the rim of the tub, making it easier for them to gauge the process through the slightly opaque water.

Grand Maester Munkun has been forced away by your husband sinking onto his knees, peeling your hand off the edge of the tub to capture it with his own. Your nails dig harshly into his palm as you eventually bear down and push with all your might, your screams echoing off the walls.

“Cregan…” you pant, completely abandoning any courtesies with other people present. “I… I have changed my mind now… I do not wish–” you’re interrupted by a contraction, forcing you to push once again. “I have no desire to give you an heir,” you pant during a short lived, pain-less moment.

You’re a fierce and proud woman that has endured so many hardships before, yet this seems to be the ultimate test of your strength and endurance – and right now you’re not quite sure you can finish it.

Cregan can’t answer before he’s interrupted by another of your screams, each contraction and push bringing more and more agony, pain shooting through you as your babe readies itself to slowly make its way into the world.

“Keep going, my lady,” the maid says, dabbing a cloth on your forehead.

“I fucking am!” you all but snap, the sharp tone of your voice solely directed at her even causing the anxiety to leave your husband’s face for a moment.

None of their gentle touches and encouraging words ease the pain that ripples through your body – not when the pressure inside of you builds up so quickly.

Beads of sweat drip down your forehead, caught by the maid’s cloth and leaving your skin glistening with the effort of birthing Cregan’s heir.

The pain gets less for a moment, allowing you to breathe as exhaustion creeps up on you despite you not yet being done. Your head tips to the side, and your gaze meets the concerned one of your husband, an anxiety etched on his features that makes it clear his heart aches with your screams.

He leans in and tips his forehead against yours, allowing you to close your eyes for a moment and take in a deep breath. “You’re doing so well, my love,” he whispers, a tremor in his voice that comes close to the one that shakes his large hands. “Hold on, just a little longer.”

The urge to push becomes adamant once again, forcing you to hunch forward from the force that bears down on you. You all but squeeze the life out of Cregan’s hand, the pain so overwhelming you hardly hear the words of the maid kneeling at the end of the tub. “Almost there, my lady. The babe is almost out.”

Every bit of your strength is focused on delivering the child, your energy almost completely spent at this point. The pain seems to consume your entire being, filling your mind with nothing but the agony of birthing your child.

But with another push, all of your suffering suddenly is over.

The pain starts to subside, replaced by an overwhelming sense of both relief and exhaustion. You collapse back against the tub, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

That is the moment for the maids to go into action, their training and experience taking over. One of them reaches down to gently scoop the babe from the water, while another already is at her side to wrap a clean cloth around its tiny body. Where your screams have filled the chambers before, it’s now its cries that echo off the walls, easing all of your anxiety.

“It is a boy, my lady,” the maid still kneeling at your side says, a soft smile on her lips. “A healthy, beautiful boy.” You smile softly as well, releasing a deep sigh of relief.

Grand Maester Munkun leans over the other two maids to assess the newborn, checking for any immediate signs of distress. As much as you want, you can’t keep your eyes open to watch how he peels the cloth aside, and you just smile weakly at his voice. “The boy indeed seems to be in good health,” he declares, clearly talking to Cregan who hasn’t left your side. “A good set of lungs, too, my lord.”

Cregan also sighs in relief, the tension in his body leaving at once at that. Bringing a hand to your cheek, he gently rubs his thumb over your sweaty skin. “Well done, my love,” he praises. “You have done so well. Our son is here and he is healthy.”

“Show him to me,” you demand softly, blinking wearily at him.

With a nod, he rises to his feet to make room for the maids. One kneels down and presents you the small bundle, but as you reach out, a renewed wave of cramps not as harsh as the ones before takes over your body. You grit your teeth and brace yourself for a sharper pain that doesn’t come.

“Almost there, my lady. ‘Tis the afterbirth,” the older maid assures you, rubbing your shoulder. “You’re almost done.”

It’s been quite some time since your septa has told you about the process of birthing a child, yet you still know that delivering the afterbirth is another messy and unpleasant part of it – one that still has to be done anyways.

After it has come out without any issues, one maid quickly takes care of disposing of it while another maid tries to detach it from your son.

With the birth and delivery finished, the attention now shifts to getting you out of the bathtub and into bed to ensure your comfort and rest. The maids have handed your husband your son to gather around you, gently helping you up and out of the water. “Lean on us, my lady,” one of them said softly with her arm around your waist.

Your exhausted body is dried and put into smallclothes and a nightdress until it’s eventually allowed to sink into the soft sheets. The maids fuss around you, making sure you’re comfortable, before your still crying son is finally brought to you.

They tug at the neckline of your nightdress to free your full breasts without a warning, yet you’re quick to swat their hands away despite having your son in your arms. “What are you doing?”

“My lady,” one of them begins, “‘tis important that you begin to feed the babe as soon as possible. The first milk is the best source of nourishment for your son. We just wish to help you with the positioning and latching.”

Their words make you doubt yourself and your mothering abilities, although a part of you knows that it’s not their intention to make you feel that way.

“I know how to feed him,” you snap suddenly, maybe even irritated at your son’s hungry crying, and the maids recoil at your harsh tone. They know that the first hours with a newborn are never easy, and they know that you are exhausted, sore, and overwhelmed by the recent events – hence their quick recovery.

“Of course, my lady,” one says, her voice gentle. “We did not mean to overstep. We only want to ensure that both you and the babe are safe and well cared for.”

Letting out a deep breath, you meet your husband’s gaze and try to keep your irritation at bay. “I understand,” you reply, slightly opening your arms to allow them to continue.

The earlier, chastened demeanor of the maids is replaced by a reassuring one as one maid grabs your hand to bring it to your breast, demonstrating how to help your babe latch on your little bud. “There you go, my lady,” she whispers as you eventually begin to nurse your son, offering quiet, encouraging words.

Cregan, who has been silently observing the scene, finally interjects. “Thank you for your services,” he says, voice kind but firm. “You all have done an excellent job and you may leave now.”

The maids and grand maester glance at you and your son once more before filling out of the room, leaving your small family alone. Your husband contemplates sitting down in a chair close to the bed, but instead opts to occupy his side of the bed, scooting closer to you and bringing a hand up to brush your son’s cheek lightly with a finger. You shift a little to accommodate him right next to you.

Your eyes are fixed on the infant in your arms as you continue to nurse him, watching as he greedily sucks at your breast with soft smacking sounds filling the otherwise quiet room. Despite the exhaustion, a sense of contempt washes over you.

“Can you believe he is really ours?” you ask softly, not tearing your eyes off of your son.

Cregan chuckles softly and shakes his head. “I can scarcely believe it,” he replies. He leans in and presses his lips to your temple, speaking against your skin. “You are incredible, do you know that?” Pulling back, his gaze is filled with love and admiration. “Everything you went through… I have never seen anything more courageous and admirable.”

“What do you think about Eyron?” you whisper, eventually meeting his gaze.

He repeats the name, testing the sound of it and seriously considering it. “I like it. It has a strong, northern feel to it. Suits him well, I think.”

Your smile mirrors his as your eyes drift back down to your son, who is still suckling at your breast, his tiny hand clutching at the neckline of your nightdress as he does so. You gently brush a finger over his head, feeling the softness of the light hair.

Relaxing into your husband’s embrace, your body fitting against his like a missing piece, you close your eyes in contentment. “You do know you will not ride at the front with your men on the way back north, do you not?”

He kisses your temple yet again, chuckling softly. “That is something to discuss once you have recovered and ‘tis time for us to return, my love.”

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hawkinsbnbg · 7 months ago

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Soulmates au where Steve's soulmate is a man of culture.

ao3

Steve got Good boy inscribed on his butt, just on the right cheek.

It would be funny if it was a tattoo Steve had gotten one time when he was too drunk and on a dare.

Except it wasn't a tattoo. At all.

Even though it kind of looked like one.

It was the first words his soulmate would say to him.

When Steve first got it, his friends had given him odd looks in the locker room.

Tommy would use many excuses to touch and even Billy wouldn't shut up about it.

As for Carol, she just cackled her head off when he showed it to her.

Still, whenever Steve was alone, he would look at the words in the mirror and feel kinda giddy about the whole thing.

Who would call someone they had just met "good boy"? What if they were far older than him?

And what would his words be for them? "Yes sir"? "Hello sir"?

Soon, he found his answer when he learned about the BDSM world, which Robin had jokingly mentioned one time.

And Steve sort of fell down the rabbit hole since then.

He met many men and women who would call him "good boy", and occasionally "good girl".

But none of them felt right.

Until he heard about Kas.

Who was known to be an experienced dom and knew how to treat his subs right.

Most of the subs in Steve's circle put the man on a pedestal. They practically worshipped the ground he walked on.

And Steve had become curious enough to seek him out.

A quick text over the phone and Steve already had a date with Kas at a hotel on Friday night.

Once the day arrived, he dolled himself up a little, knowing many doms liked how rosy cheeks and pouty lips he was.

He even wore lipgloss and mascara just for good luck.

His outfit was simple enough to take off, but cute nonetheless.

A yellow and pink graffitied black sweater that was a little baggy on him, a tiny pearl choker, silver bracelets, a pair of jeans shorts, and baby pink sneakers.

He looked like a twink, all things considered.

It wasn't his first time dressing like this and it wouldn't be the last time, either.

Steve just..

Well, he just wanted to make sure if he stumbled on his soulmate who happened to be a dom, he wouldn't disappoint them too badly.

It had been years since his word first appeared. So he had the right to be a little bit desperate.

Steve didn't know why, but by the time he got to the hotel, he was a puddle of nerves.

He figured that maybe it was the "Kas' effect" that many people had told him about.

When the door opened to let Kas into the room, Steve just knew this man was going to rock his world.

Kas was attractive and tall. Easily having a couple of inches on him.

With long curly hair, big brown eyes, and plump lips, the man looked surprisingly intimidating.

He wore a burgundy shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, showing his tattoos and chunky silver rings.

His pants and heavy boots were made of leather, which Steve suddenly wanted to rub himself on.

He seemed to be a lanky type, but Steve knew better than to assume anything.

As Kas languidly made his way to the bed, Steve unconsciously slid down to the floor and got on his knees, waiting for his order.

Yeah, he was a good boy like that.

There was a reason why many doms had asked to keep him despite knowing he only let his soulmate own him.

Kas wasn't any different.

The man smiled at him, dimpled and warm, making Steve woozy a bit at being praised even wordlessly.

Once Kas sat down, he spread his thighs slightly and patted a hand on his lap.

Understanding the silent command immediately, Steve climbed up on it without being told twice.

He blushed and giggled a bit when strong arms wrapped around his waist securely.

"Good boy," said Kas huskily, smelling of cigarettes and something spicy. "What do you want for your reward, sweetheart?"

Steve felt his breath hitched at that. He knew the chance wasn't high but–

"Can I kiss you, sir?" He asked coyly, playing his role to perfection.

This time, it was Kas who took a sharp intake.

Surprise, disbelief, uncertainty, hope, and finally, joy settled on the man's handsome features.

Kas smiled at him again, more genuine and hopeful.

"Baby boy, do you know that I have those words written on my left ribs my entire life?"

"Show me," Steve demanded, unable to keep up the act when he was so close to finding his soulmate.

Without protest, Kas unbuttoned his shirt and there it was, scribbled on the man's pale skin was Can I kiss you, sir? in his handwriting.

Smiling fondly, Steve traced his fingers on those words.

They sounded so sweet. And yet concerning if being put into the wrong context.

What a pair they made.

"Can you show me yours, sweetheart?" Kas asked tentatively, looking unsure despite having been so confident just a few minutes ago.

"Yeah, sure, of course," Steve scrambled up from the man's lap and blushed as he turned around to unzip and pull down his shorts.

Hearing Kas curse quietly behind him was, perhaps, the most flattering moment in his life.

He could see what kind of an image he made with his baggy sweater bunching up around his waist, white thong, and Good boy being inked on his tanned buttcheek.

Some would call it hot, sexy, or erotic.

But Steve knew how obscene he looked with those words on him.

Especially when he was face down and ass up, waiting to be fucked into oblivion.

Not that he had let anyone fuck him, yet. But he wouldn't mind if Kas did it tonight.

Steve shuddered slightly as calloused fingers brushed on his cool skin, and let out a moan when hot lips placed a tender kiss on his cheek.

Then without pausing, strong hands grabbed his hips before sharp teeth sank into his flesh, eliciting a yelp from him.

It wasn't painful. It just made Steve want to ask for more. So he turned around to do exactly that.

"Kas–"

"Call me Eddie," the man tugged him back into his lap.

"Eddie," he breathed out as he straddled the man's thighs.

"Yes, my sunshine?" Eddie smiled adoringly at him.

"Can I kiss you now?" Steve braced his hands on the broad shoulders with a raised eyebrow.

Tightening the arms around his waist, Eddie pecked him on his chin, sweet and loving.

"How about I let you kiss me for the rest of our lives, my pretty angel?"

"And I'll be yours for as long as we live?" Steve murmured against those plump lips.

"Yeah, gonna treat you right, my good boy," Eddie chuckled before drawing him into a fervent kiss.

Steve was so going to thank that Chrissy girl who had sold him her mascara and lipgloss later.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #soulmates steddie #sub steve harrington #dom eddie munson #meet sexy #sionewrites

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moonlitdesertdreams · 7 months ago

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Take the damn shot

A/N: Ohhhhh I've spiraled. Going from Mandalorian fics to writing about a radioactive cowboy with no nose within a couple weeks of each other is totally healthy :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence. Summary: A single quiet day in the saloon is all you wanted. But somehow, your Ghoul partner is pulling his gun and you're covered in another person's blood. Honestly, it's just typical.

Word Count: 1.7k+

(GIF Credit to @djo)

The Ghoul hates to admit it, but he needs you.

In the same sick and twisted, goddamned way he needs the Vials to stay sane, he needs you next to him. When poison air grows thick and the scorching sun sinks beyond a brutalized horizon, you’re always at his side. Day in and day out, you stick around. Full of piss and vinegar, ready to take on the fucked up world you’re all stuck in.

And Cooper’s not one for generosity anymore, but he gives you credit a lot of the time. He knows he can be nasty, and you don’t mind one bit. In spite of his callousness and general disregard for safety, you put on a chipper attitude and tug him (sometimes physically) along to the next town. Outwardly innocent but filled with a mutual hatred for Vault-Tec and what its influence had done to the world and yourself, you’d quickly become his diamond in the rough.

And you shine particularly bright in the shack of a building the Wasteland called a saloon. You’ve made careful friends with a couple of gray-haired biddies- presumably the owners- in the back of the room, and chat happily with them. Cooper sits off to the side behind you, a bottle of the local brew dangling between his fingers. He’s content for the first time in a while; ass in a creaky rocking chair and boots kicked up on an old milk crate. The brim of his hat is pulled down to hide the majority of his face, but eyes wander lazily from you to the front door.

Cooper didn’t think many things were nice any longer, but listening to you prattle on with the women warmed something in his dead heart.

“You’re awfully pretty for this place.” The older of the two women, sporting a single eye and an impressively neat beehive style, compliments you. “Gotta be out of the Vaults with that skin.”

The Ghoul tenses, knowing the mention of your 200-year prison would strike a nerve.

“Yeah. I’m from before the war, actually.” You say it plainly and chase it down with a swig of liquor. “Fuckin’ Vault-Tec.”

The Ghoul’s familiar with your story, from you finding out about the plan to drop homemade bombs on American citizens to your confrontation with the executive group in Vault 31. Little did you know, you’d be sneaking in with no chance for escape. Cooper tightens his fist at the thought of Hank MacLean shoving you carelessly into a cryopod and slamming the button to lock you in. You’d relayed the story to him with watery eyes, and that’s something he absolutely loathed. He had enough personal beef with Hank that your trauma added to his ever-growing list of things to be absolutely pissed-the-fuck-off about.

Finch and Sparrow, as they were so comically named, clutch their pearls in sadness as you tell your story. They fawn over you, and Cooper makes out a few ‘fuck them Vaulties’ and a ‘well as much as it sucks, we’re glad you made it this far’. You sniff just barely and wipe your eyes.

“Thanks, ladies. It means a lot.”

The conversation turns back pleasant for the most part, and you’re enthralled as the women pull you into the town gossip. Cooper begrudgingly gets up to piss, comfy as he was, but stops at your side to hand off his bag first. You take it with a nod, more interested in the rumor mill than his whereabouts for the moment. He swaggers to the back door of the saloon, where wind whips sand against his jeans and patters the leather of his boots with tiny rocks.

Voices drift out the door from inside as Cooper yanks his zipper back up.

“Is it true what they say ‘bout Vaulties?” It’s a man’s voice, gruff and demanding in comparison to the happy lilt of yours. “Heard your story and always been… curious.”

“If you listened, you would know I ain’t no Vaultie.” Your reply is instant, but the edge in your voice has Cooper stepping a little faster down the short hallway. He reemerges to the sight of a suspiciously dressed man leaning against the wood beam beside your table, a little too close for comfort.

“Sure you are, darlin’. I can tell by lookin’ at’chya.” The man’s face is half-covered by a bandanna, and a pair of sand goggles are pushed up on his forehead, “Like they say.. everything’s… softer.”

There’s suddenly a hand landing on your shoulder, and Cooper sees red. His gun is pulled before he knows it, leveling at the man’s forehead.

“Hands off the girl.” He growls.

On closer inspection the man is probably close to the age you appear. Above the bandanna, weatherbeaten skin turns into frizzy ginger hair. He’s wearing a typical duster type coat, and the goggles are leaving red marks in his forehead. Cooper decides he’s taken shits more attractive than him.

Probably smarter, too.

“Fuck off, Ghoul.” Is the reply Cooper receives, sending a flash of white-hot anger through his already irradiated body. “I wasn't talkin’ to you.”

It was all too common, being brushed off. At this point in his life, it actually brings a smirk to his face. Your mouth is even tipping up at the edges, having had many interactions with the can of worms this guy was prying open.

“Listen man, I think you should let it go.” You warn and try to stand from the broken chair you had been carefully perching on. The red-head doesn’t relent, and pushes you back down into the chair. It wobbles dangerously as Cooper stomps closer. The movement prompts your captor to pull his own gun. It’s a crudely made pipe pistol, but able to shoot flying projectiles into your brains nonetheless.

“Get your goddamn hands off her before I decorate that wall with your fuckin’ skull.” Cooper yanks the hammer back on his pistol, hesitating at your close proximity.

The redhead pulls his bandanna down and Cooper watches you lean away as you recognize the scent and characteristics of a Fiend. His teeth are hanging loosely at crooked angles, and the pock marks around his mouth from scratching his skin open drip blood and serous fluid. His gun is trained on Cooper, but he freezes when he sees the Ghoul shift forward.

“Ah ah ah. How’d you like me to put a bullet in her instead?” The Fiend tugs you to your feet and nuzzles at your hair as he presses the barrel of his gun to your ribs. “I’d love a taste myself.”

The suffocating need to keep you safe and at his side fills Cooper’s corroded veins as you scowl at the Fiend whose nose is pressed dangerously close to your cheek with rotten teeth bared. Rage ignites from the anger he’s already feeling.

BANG.

Cooper’s watching when the red spray of blood washes over half the saloon, but still doesn’t quite comprehend what’s happened. His gun didn’t fire, but the scent of ignited powder fills the air. You fall to the floor along with your captor, and the aforementioned rage boils over. He holsters his gun and scrambles to pull you away in the chaos.

Thankfully, a quick once-over shows you to have no injuries, but the same can’t be said for your attacker. A foot away the Fiend lies still, about five pounds lighter from the gaping hole in his chest. Gore from his wound is splattered thick across your face and neck. Your eyes are pinched closed to avoid anything unsightly entering them, and you lash out blindly when Cooper grasps your arms.

“Let me go, you rotten bastard!” The Ghoul catches your right hand before it can hook into his jaw, “I’ll kill you myself.”

“Quit squealin’ sunshine, it’s me.” Cooper growls

While he’s getting a handle on your flailing limbs, a shadow covers the both of you. Cooper glances up at the one-eyed old woman who’s sawed-off shotgun is still smoking in her left hand.

“I know your brain is shrunken and all, but next time take the shot sooner.” She bites. “And feel free to clean up my damn bar.”

Cooper is torn between staring at the older woman- Sparrow, he thinks- and trying to contain your squirming. He’s not too fragile to admit he really doesn’t want to take a punch from you right now, so he wipes the back of his hand across your eyes and tugs you to sit up beside him.

“Cooper?”

He huffs a laugh at your incredulous tone and flicks away the remnants of blood littering your skin “The one and only. Open your eyes.”

They flicker open slowly, and you pout at the blood congealing on your clothes. “I just got these pants.”

Cooper sets a hand on your thigh and squeezes gently. “I’ll buy you a new pair. S’Long as you promise not to get Fiend all over those ones too.”

You thrust an elbow into his ribs at the jab and climb to your feet. Cooper follows with a dramatic groan.

“Old man.” You tease over your shoulder, observing the carnage from Sparrow’s well-aimed shot. A kick to the corpses’ ribs follows, sending a splatter of blood across Cooper’s pants. You shoot him an insincerely apologetic look. “She’s right, you know.”

The Ghoul follows your gaze to Sparrow, who’s hollering at any remaining patrons that dare tread too close to the mess, damning them for tracking blood around the bar.

“‘Bout what?”

You lean into his space, the scent of blood thick in the air. “Take the damn shot sooner.”

Cooper grabs the back of your neck and yanks you forward in a hard kiss. The blood transfers easily onto his lips, and he licks it off while pulling away. “Fucker deserved more than one shot.”

Possessiveness floods his mind and he squeezes the soft flesh beneath his fingers.

“I’da strung him up by his balls if I got my hands on him.” He mutters, tracing another finger through the blood and popping it into his mouth. “After grabbin’ onto you like that.”

You lean into his chest and let a smile curl the corners of your lips up. “All for little ol’ me?”

The Ghoul pinches your bloody cheek. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

-------------------

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

#fallout imagine #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x f!reader #The Ghoul x Reader #the Ghoul x you #cooper howard x oc #fallout tv series #lucy maclean #walton goggins #fallout fiends #possessive!cooper howard #fallout #fallout 4 #fallout new vegas #ghouls deserve love too #the ghoul

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milfsdoll · 1 month ago

Text

Did I tell you how beautiful you are, already?

Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: Your best friends drag you to a club to celebrate finishing college, and when you cross eyes with a stunning older woman it makes you do something you’ve never done before.

Warnings: +18, smut, alcohol, soft dom!Agatha, sub!reader, oral sex, finger sex, strap on, choking kink, praise kink, etc.

Word count: 6.3k

A/N: Just a reminder that English is not my first language, and... I might have got carried away writing this.

Masterlist

“Come on, please, do it for me?”

Your roommate, Yelena, has been begging you to go to a club with her and her girlfriend Kate for a whole week, you weren’t the type to go partying, so many people in such a tiny space overwhelmed you, but you just finished your last day at college and Yelena really wanted to celebrate it with you.

You have been studying and working so hard for the last four years she wanted you to get loose just this once “you deserve a break, come on” she whined following you around the apartment while you went to have a shower.

Maybe you did need a night out…

“Fine” you scoffed turning around to look at her, her face breaking into a excited smile “just for a few hours ok? I don’t want to spend the whole night out”

Yelena squealed and hugged you tightly “it’s gonna be the night of your life!”

You really doubt it, you’d prefer spending the night watching a movie with them and drinking the, really bad, cocktails Kate did, but well, I guess you could make the best out of tonight.

“Yeah, yeah… let me shower in peace now” you chuckled and she ran to her room, hearing a too enthusiastic ‘yes!’ From Kate “these two…” you whispered to yourself before getting into the shower.

You spent the next two hours getting ready, doing your make up and the girls’, this was the only part you really enjoyed about going out, getting ready with music blasting from your tv, you and Yelena laughing watching Kate dance her soul out.

“I hope you’re taking me to a only women club or something, I don’t want to spend the whole night rejecting guys”

“You really think we’d ever go to a club with straight people? Oh no, we’re going to a gay bar, maybe you’ll find a girl to distress yourself a little bit”

“Hey!” You looked at her with a shocked face, making her burst into laugher “whatever” you rolled your eyes, trying to hide your blush as you turned to the two outfit options you had laid out on your bed.

You’ve been on a dry spell for like… a whole year probably, you don’t even remember the last time, since you broke up with your girlfriend you drowned yourself in your career and you job at the university cafe, deciding you didn’t want any distraction from finishing it.

Shaking your head to get out of those thoughts you studied the clothes in front of you, the first outfit was some black plain pants and a lace corset, and the second one a black mini skirt with a deep v neck red top “that one” Kate pointed to the skirt and top “I’m sure you’ll get laid if you wear that top” You groaned at the pair laughing at your flushed face, you shoved them out of your room and got ready, opting to agree with Kate.

Not on the last part tho…

You paired the outfit with your favorite black leather boots before going to the living room where the pair was “ok I’m ready, we can go now” you said making sure you had everything in your purse when you heard Yelena whistling and Kate saying something you didn’t even catch “god you two are insufferable, let’s go”

They knew how shy you got when they hyped you up, and they really loved doing it.

The three of you got an Uber to go to the club, neither of you knowing if you could drive back home later, so you decided for the safer option.

You spent the ride laughing and chatting a bit, finally out of the stress of college, telling what you were going to do now, your plans and dreams for the future. You’d take a year off, deciding to travel around before getting tied down by studying for two more years, you’ve been saving for it these years, and you were gonna live the best time of your life visiting places, you were sure of that.

When you arrived to the club you stared at the entrance, a few people seated outside, smoking and chatting, while Yelena paid the driver, she insisted the whole night was on her, and honestly, you weren’t going to complain a bit “it will be fun, I promise” Kate pushed your shoulder with hers playfully, sensing your anxiety “let’s go” she held your hand and guided you inside.

The loud music reached your ears, it made your whole body shake from the vibrations, the warm lights making you ease your nerves a bit, you looked around, sighing in relief when you only saw women on the dance floor and the bar, you didn’t have anything against men but you really didn’t want any near you, not tonight at least.

“I need a drink” you announced the pair who was already dancing, chuckling slightly at them “do you want any?” You were sure you were gonna end with a hoarse voice tonight, having to yell over the loud music so they could hear you. Yelena nodded at you and gave you her credit card.

She really was going to pay for everything.

You walked to the bar, already feeling a few eyes on you, you sighed and sat on one of the stools “three shots of tequila please” you almost yelled to the waitress, she just winked at you, in a friendly way, and started making your shots.

You looked around while you waited out of boredom, your body slightly swaying to the music, when you looked to your left you saw a woman at the end of the bar, her eyes already on you as she talked to a redhead woman who got her back to you, when you felt her gaze running your figure up and down you immediately turned your head, your cheeks feeling hot.

You couldn’t really see her very clearly but… you could tell she was attractive.

“Your shots” the voice of the waitress pulled you out of your thoughts, you thanked her before paying and made your way to the girls, not without glancing again to the brunette woman, who was still following you with her eyes.

“What’s with the flushed face?” Yelena raised an eyebrow at you while taking her shot, Kate taking her as well.

“Nothing” you just shrugged it off and downed your shot, the hot liquid in your throat making you hiss, the couple glancing at each other shocked, but deciding to let it go.

Kate pulled you to the dance floor, the three of you starting to dance to the music, shouting along the lyrics, but you couldn’t shake that older woman from your head, that wavy wild hair and those blue eyes checking you out.

It felt like she put a spell on you.

Yelena came back with another round of shots, downing them immediately she discarded them on one of the nearest tables. You started to feel the liquor easing your mind, your worries about your life slowly disappearing, only feeling the music and the lights above you.

Closing you eyes dancing to the beat like you were the only one in the club, it’s been so long you didn’t feel this way, not caring about anything or anyone, you made a mental note to thank Yelena for convincing you to come, maybe you would regret it tomorrow morning when the hangover arrived but you didn’t care a bit about that now.

When you opened your eyes you realized you lost the couple, looking around the dance floor you saw them far from you, dancing and practically making out in front of everyone, you giggled at the view and turned around, ready to go to the bar when you saw her, right in front of you still sitting at the stools. You paused for a second, watching as she sipped her drink calmly looking away from you.

Your eyes travelled her form, how the suit hugged her figure in all the right places, the sleeves of her shirt rolled up to her forearms making her look even better, your gaze went to her face again, admiring her side profile, that prominent jaw, watching how she licked her lips after sipping on her drink again, and then her eyes landed on you.

Fuck.

Suddenly everything went quiet around you, you could only hear the music blurry in the back, your heart pace quickening, only focusing how the woman winked at you, in a way of saying she caught you staring, but the smirk she wore told you she didn’t mind a bit.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or just the way her eyes encouraged you to do something, but you felt a wave of boldness in you, making your way towards the woman, her smirk widening at the act “hi” you told her your name, you were sure she could hear your heartbeat, you felt like it was going to pop out at any second.

“Agatha” she simply told you, grabbing your hand assuming she was going to shake it, but your breath hitched when she took it to her lips, kissing the back softly “can I buy you a drink?”

You just nodded, your voice failing you to let any word out and she just chuckled at that, finding your flushed reaction really cute “come sit with me, beautiful” she patted the stool next to her, you didn’t hesitate sitting down, trying to hide your blush with your hair a little “you want something in special?”

“Whatever you’re drinking is fine” you smiled at her, seeing how her lips pursed in a hum, her eyes lingering on your legs for a second, making you more flustered if that’s even possible.

She ordered the drink before turning her attention to you again “might sound like a cliche but, are you here all alone?” God her voice, that deep, slightly raspy voice, it sounded hypnotizing.

“No” you giggled and shook your head “I came with my friends, who almost dragged me here, but now they are somewhere making out” you shook your hand towards the dance floor, making both of you chuckle.

“Well, I’m glad they did, it would have been very bored for me otherwise”

“Oh? How’s that?” You raised an eyebrow at her and sipping the drink the waitress laid in front of you.

Agatha got closer to you, her chin resting against the palm of her hand “you’re the only one who seemed interesting in this place” her other hand carefully sneaked it’s way to your knee, her finger tips dancing through your skin, quietly asking for permission.

You grabbed her hand in yours and put it flat on you upper thigh, making the older woman bite her lip, her thumb caressing your skin “the feeling is mutual then”

Your eyes stared at each other for a minute, you could cut the tension between you with a knife, and when you felt her move towards you, her lips parting a little, you suddenly stood up, you were not gonna fall that easily.

The fun just started.

“Wanna dance?” You held your hand to her, seeing as she chuckled in disbelief.

“Oh no sweetheart, I don’t dance”

“Too bad, I’ll have to dance alone then”

You sighed dramatically and walked backwards to the dance floor, wiping a fake tear from your eye. Agatha shook her head at you, secretly loving the show you were putting on.

When you hit the dance floor you slowly started to sway your hips to the music, you hands traveling up from your sides to your head, tangling them in your hair as you closed your eyes, turning around so she could get a perfect view of your backside.

Her eyes never left your form, watching you dance so deliciously, eyes going from your swaying ass to your fabric less back, noticing your floral tattoo for the first time making her breath hitch, her fingers twitching around her glass, imagining how it would be to feel your soft skin under her touch.

She gulped down the rest of her cocktail and stood up, making her way towards you, carefully sneaking her arms around your hips not to scare you “you are something else, you know that, doll?” Her low voice whispered right into your ear, making goosebumps raise all over your skin, a shiver running down your spine. And when you went to turn around she held you back tightly, pushing your back to her front “nah ah”

You let out a gasp, your hands holding her wrists that rested on your abdomen, her hips started guiding yours, making you both moving in unison, you felt her breath on your neck, moving your head to the side making room for her to plant a light kiss just under your ear, one of her hands guided yours to the back of her neck, your fingers interlocking into her hair.

“For someone who doesn’t dance, you move pretty good” you turned your head so you were looking into her eyes, your teasing smirk making her chuckle darkly.

“You have no idea…” she rubbed her nose against yours, feeling her breath against your lips, your eyes flickering between her mouth and her eyes, she slowly turned you around, her fingers softly caressing your spine.

It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to someone, feeling her soft hair around your fingers as you scratched the back of her head, her eyes never leaving yours, she made you feel shy under her gaze, biting your lip you looked away from her.

But it didn’t last a second, her hand grabbed your chin and made you look back at her, her thumb pulling your lower lip from your teeth, stroking it slowly “if I kiss you now, will you pull away from me again?” She asked with a teasing tone, her eyebrow raising for a second.

You just shook your head, looking up at her with doe eyes “I wouldn’t dare” you whispered, your breath hitching as she closed the gap between your lips, you closed your eyes, your lips parting a little, waiting for the woman to finally kiss you, but after a second of waiting you felt her laugh under her breath as you looked at her again, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion, she was smiling diabolically, ghosting her lips against yours but never properly kissing you.

With a huff your hands grabbed her cheeks before pulling her towards you, your lips finally meeting, causing Agatha to hum in surprise but kissing you back without hesitation, her arms on your lower back pulling you flush against her “eager, are we?” She hummed between kisses.

“Shut up” you bit back letting out a chuckle, but the woman didn’t like that, her teeth biting you qlower lip in a warning before her tongue intruded your mouth, making you moan into her mouth.

She liked control…

Good.

The kiss was soft, but intense, she tasted like sweet alcohol, her hands squeezing your hips, and when she pulled away for air you pouted, already missing her addictive soft lips.

And when she was about to comfort you she saw two girls behind you, looking at the two of you not very subtly, she turned to you clearing her throat “I hope those are your friends”

“What?” You looked at her with a questioning face before she pointed to them with her head, you turned around, her hands never leaving your body, when you saw Yelena with her arms crossed and raised eyebrow playfully and Kate giggling behind her “oh come on” you groaned and hid your face in your hands.

“Oh no, don’t mind us” Yelena said with a smirk “we were just about to leave, are you… coming home with us or…” she looked between you and Agatha.

You turned to Agatha, not really knowing what to do, you didn’t want to leave at all, not now, but you didn’t want to go home alone later “you can come to my place if you want” she whispered in your ear and winked at you, making your face flush red, your breath shaking for a moment.

“Are you sure?”

“More than sure” she squeezed your hip and nodded at you confidently.

You turned back to the girls, perfectly knowing they saw and heard the interaction “I’m staying, don’t worry about me”

Yelena nodded before turning to Agatha “I don’t forget a face, so be careful with her, or be sure I’ll search for you”

“Yelena!” You huffed at her in disbelief, leaving Agatha’s hold to push your friend away before she embarrassed you any further “I will call you if anything happens, I promise”

“I told you the top would work!” Kate squealed behind you, making you blush even harder.

“Yes, yes, now please go” you whined looking at her desperately, she gave you a quick hug and a ‘have fun’ whisper before dragging Yelena out of the club. You sighed in relief before going back to Agatha, who was trying to hold her laugh with her hand over her mouth “God, I’m sorry”

“Hey, they’re just looking out for you, it’s cute” she chuckled and pulled you close to her again by your waist, it was cute really, seeing how protective they were of you, she wished she had someone like that in her youth, it would have saved her from a lot of unwanted situations “now… do you want to go to my place?”

“Right now?”

She hummed nodding her head “only if you want to, of course” the last thing she wanted was making you uncomfortable “we can walk, I only live a few blocks from here”

“I do want to” you reassured her, holding her hand and squeezing it, and you two walked outside, hand in hand Agatha guided you to her house.

You made a little chat, talking about meaningless things mostly “are you cold?” She said seeing you shiver at her side, you just shook your head, telling her you were ok, but she just took off her blazer and placed it on your shoulders “if I let you freeze I’m sure your friend will kill me” you both chuckled at that, it was true, if you came home with a cold Yelena would certainly kill the woman.

Soon you arrived at her place, it was nice, a cute house in a neighborhood, she let you inside before her, allowing you to look around a bit “I wish to have a house like this some day” you smiled at her, following her to the kitchen.

“If you work hard enough you’ll have it in a few years” she winked at you, watching as she grabbed two glasses from a cabinet, she poured you both some wine “and something tells me you’re a smart girl”

That made you blush “well I just finished college, that’s why my friends wanted to go partying” you said while hopping on her island.

“Cheers to that then” she clicked her glass with yours before sipping it “What did you study, if it isn’t much to ask?” Her hand stroked your upper thigh, making you hold your breath for a second.

Her touch was just so… electrifying, so warm, it felt so good, you didn’t know this woman at all, but you knew you wanted to feel her touch everywhere, her voice praising you right in your ear.

“I studied creative writing”

You earned a curious hum from the woman, seeing how she made herself comfortable between your legs “I want to be a writer, but I have to get my master’s degree to get a good job, but my brain is so fried of studying I’m going to take a year break and maybe start writing my first book, who knows? It might blow up and I won’t have to study anymore”

The woman listened to you, paying attention to every word you said, a smile growing on her lips “that’s very interesting, and I’m looking forward to read your book” she squeezed your thigh, making you giggle “it’s true, I’ve always admired the creativity of the writers, or of the artists in general”

“Yeah, it takes a lot of imagination” you hand played with her shirt “what do you do, if I can ask?”

You didn’t know why but you wanted to know everything about the woman, you were sure she has lived a lot of adventures, the decoration of her home agreeing with you, it was full of paintings and sculptures of all around the world. And she did tell you, she told you she was an archeologist, how she has travelled all around the world, studying about all cultures and collecting so many treasures.

Her eyes glowed when she talked to you about her job and her trips, and you loved it, you wanted to be like that someday, being proud of who you were and what you have done.

She was inspiring.

You didn’t know when or how but you ended in her living room, seated on the couch facing each other, wine still in hand, Agatha asked you about where you wanted to travel this year, telling you advises and warnings from the places she had been.

She told you stories, anecdotes, you spent hours talking, it felt so easy with her, you’ve never met anyone this interesting.

You were both laughing at something she said, your hand fell on her thigh softly for support, when she suddenly grabbed your glass and discarded it on the coffee table with hers, when she sat back she pulled you close, pulling your now bare leg over her lap “you are really beautiful, you know that?” She said wiping a hair out of your face, her thumb caressing your cheekbone.

“I could say the same thing about you” you smiled at her, your lips kissing softly the palm of her hand.

“I’m old” she scoffed and bit her lip.

“You’re not that old, and so what if you are? I’ve always found older women gorgeous” you made yourself comfortable on her lap, your hands stroking her collarbone and neck “and you are gorgeous”

Agatha just hummed and pulled you closer, her hands laying comfortably on your bottom “well thank you, sweet girl” she planted a kiss on the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, making her way down your neck, causing you to gasp, your hands going into her hair.

“Agatha…” you breathed out, her teeth biting on you pulse point “please… kiss me” she turned her head to look at you, admiring the love bite she just left on your neck.

“Such a good girl” she hummed, her nose rubbing against yours softly “let me hear you beg for me a little more, hm?”

You pouted at her, yours hands traveling down to her shirt, unbuttoning it slowly “please, I need to feel your lips everywhere, I need you, please Agatha”

“Everywhere, huh?” She asked, making you nod eagerly “I can’t deny such an obedient girl then” she said before her lips were on yours, how she perfectly molded your lips together, her tongue dominating yours into your mouth, it was intoxicating, addictive even.

The woman stood up from the couch, wrapping your legs around her middle as she walked up the stairs, holding you tightly so you wouldn’t fall, her lips only parting from yours for air, immediately yours landed on her neck kissing and nipping softly, hearing how her breath hitched with your act.

When she arrived to her bedroom she laid you on her bed softly, seeing her stand on the end, her hair a mess from your hands, her lips puffed from the kiss, her shirt half unbuttoned, showing the purple lace bra underneath it made you shiver, your thighs closing on their own, feeling how wet you were already, it was embarrassing.

“None of that, open your legs for me”

Her eyes darkened suddenly, her voice lowed an octave while she finished taking off her shirt, throwing it somewhere in the dark room. You obeyed of course, your legs opening for her causing your skirt to ride up, your eyes never leaving hers, watching as she crawled the bed on top of you, her lips kissing the naked skin between your breasts.

“You’re too dressed for my liking”

You felt her hands pulling your top upwards, and you raised your arms so she could take it off completely “fuck” she whispered when she saw your bare chest, her fingers softly dancing around them “did I tell you how beautiful you are already?”

“Yes” you said gasping out, you felt her lips wrap around your left nipple, making your back arch from the mattress, your hands holding her hair, she just hummed and turned to your neglected nipple, tugging it carefully, earning a moan from you.

She was already addicted to your sounds, loving how you hips rolled into her with every touch, she wanted to hear you scream her name, to have you ruined beneath her, only the thought of that made her core clench into nothing.

On your end you were trying to ease your breath, it’s been so long without any kind of intimate touch you were so fucking embarrassingly soaked already, but you were sure if it was with anyone else you wouldn’t feel like this, her touch was like magic, it made you feel so freaking good.

Agatha kissed her way down your stomach, leaving marks here and there, loving how they looked on your pale skin, when she reached your skirt she signaled you to lift your hips, her hands pulling the fabric down before discarding it on the floor “oh my sweet girl…” she almost moaned at the sight of your ruined panties “I didn’t even start yet”

Her fingers ran down the wet spot, making you whine and hide you face in your hands “I’m sorry” you whispered out.

“Don’t be… it’s fucking hot” she pulled your hands out of your face, the smirk on her face reassuring you she was being truthful, you nodded, watching her slowly pull your panties down your legs, your breath hitching in anticipation.

You only saw how her face changed, seeing you completely naked, spread out on her bed with her marks all over you, waiting for her next movement impatiently, your hips slightly moving on their own, you looked perfect, she wished she could take a picture of this moment.

With luck tonight would only be the first of many.

She started kissing your knee, painfully slowly making her way up your thigh, feeling her breath over your mound as she continued her tease on your other thigh “Agatha please” you huffed desperately, your fingers wrapping her sheets tightly “just fuck me please”

Agatha chuckled, deciding to put mercy on you before her tongue ran through your folds, making both of you moan, you tasted like heaven, and she made you feel like you were in heaven.

She wrapped her lips around your puffy clit, her hands pining your hips down into the mattress with force, never taking her eyes from your face, seeing how it squirmed in pleasure, your head arching back into her pillow, your moans increasing with each movement of her tongue, she played with your entrance with her fingers, rubbing your wetness all over you hole.

Your hands flied to her hair when you felt her finger slowly pushing inside of you, she groaned at how easily you let her, yet how tight you felt, her mouth never ending the abuse on your clit, nipping and sucking on it, hearing how your voice failed you to let any sound, only gasps and broken moans.

“You feel so good” she moaned biting you thigh “being such a good girl for me” she felt you clench around her finger, slowly pushing another one in, keeping her pace slow but deep.

Your mind was blurred, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t talk, just feel her long fingers inside of you, curling and spreading, your climax growing quickly in your lower stomach, hearing her praises, how good you were taking her, how good you felt around her fingers, it was maddening you.

She could tell you were close, so close, your cunt tightening her fingers, your moans getting louder, you legs slightly shaking already, she had to be face to face with you, needing to see your expression when you came for her, her thumb continued stimulating your clit, her lips kissing your neck, going up your jaw.

“Cum for me”

Her deep voice in your ear made your insides snap, crying out her name you reached your orgasm with force, your back arching into her, seeing stars through your closed eyes. Agatha helped you ride your high, her fingers slowing their pace, staring at your blissed out face, how a smile broke into your lips.

She carefully pulled her fingers away, watching you open your eyes and looking into her eyes, your breath slowing easing, she brought her fingers to your lips “suck” she said, your mouth immediately opening for her, wrapping your lips around her digits, cheeks hollowing as you suck on them, your tongue cleaning them whole.

“Such a good pet you are”

Fuck yes, that pet name, if anyone else said that to you, you would have laughed, but coming from her… it made you immediately wet again, a shiver running down your spine.

Pulling her fingers out of your mouth she attached her lips against yours, biting your lower lip before her tongue intruded your mouth, you both could taste yourself on your mouths “can you go again for me, pet?”

How could you deny her?

“Yes” you said breathlessly, pulling her into another kiss before she stood up from the bed “wait, where are you going?” You whined after her, hearing her chuckle and disappear into her large walk in closet.

A few minutes later she walked out, fully naked and with a harness around her hips, a big, purple, strap on standing proud and tall “fuck” you let out in a breath, admiring her beautiful body, her long wild hair now in a messy bun.

“Like what you see, doll?”

The cocky smirk she wore on her face told you she already knew the answer, watching her walk to the bed, like a hunter walking to it’s prey, her hands landing on your waist as she got on her knees on the mattress, waiting for her to do whatever the fuck she wanted with you.

You were willing to take whatever she wanted to give you.

Suddenly she turned your figure around, manhandling you however she pleased, bending your knees, making you stand on your elbows, her hand wiping away the hair from your back, her fingers following down the pattern of your back tattoo.

It made you giggle, just for this moment it was worth the six hours you laid still getting the tattoo a few months ago.

“You like it?” You said in a teasing voice, turning your head to the side so you could look at her.

“You have no idea”

She hummed her hand making it’s way up your back again, stopping at the back of your neck, slowly she wrapped her hand around your throat, squeezing just the right amount to make your core clench around nothing, you mind suddenly fogging in submission “is this ok?” She whispered against you ear.

You just nodded, afraid your words would fail you.

“I need words, pet”

“Yes, fuck yes” you whined out, feeling her length slightly rub against your wetness.

Agatha chuckled at your state, you were so pathetically desperate, it was adorable. She planted a kiss on your shoulder, her free hand guiding the strap to your entrance, seeing how you rolled your hips into it impatiently, your fingers holding the sheets so tight you knuckles became white “one rule, you won’t cum until I say so, got it?”

She didn’t let you answer, feeling the large toy slide into you, making you hide your face into the pillow, trying to muffle your loud moans, but the woman wasn’t having that, her hand on your throat sliding into your hair, pulling your head out of the pillow “I want to hear you, pet” she moaned into your ear, the heavenly sound causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin.

“I-Is it-?”

“Double sided? Fuck- yes” she hissed between thrusts, it wasn’t fair, at all, hearing her moans and grunts into your ear as she thrusted into you, her pace hard and deep, feeling her right in your g-spot.

She had you cursing between moans, your legs already shaking after your first orgasm, the sound of her skin slapping against yours only making you closer to the edge.

You looked yo pretty underneath her, so ruined, it made her clench around the toy, the base stimulated her clit just perfectly, moaning as she bit your shoulder, trying to get a hold of herself, feeling how her nipples rub against your back.

Her hand made it’s way around your throat again, loving the feel of the vibrations from your sounds on her hand, she pulled your middle up from the bed with her, her free hand sneaking to your clit.

“fuck-! I’m close, please-“ you let out a broken moan, your hand scratching the back of her neck, making the older woman shiver.

“Hold it” she moaned into your ear “be a good girl and wait for me” she was close too, feeling her lower stomach burst with fire, but she wanted to make you suffer a little longer.

You whined out at her words, your nails digging into her wrist on your throat, tears threatening to spill out from the overstimulation, you were not gonna be able to hold it much longer, the feeling of her fingers on your clit making your cunt clench around her.

It only took her a few more thrusts, feeling on the edge with you “cum with me, pet” her voice weak while she bit on your shoulder, you didn’t hesitate a second, letting yourself go, the orgasm waving through your body, feeling the older woman tense behind you, her hold on your throat tightening for a second, cutting the air from your lungs as another wave crashed over you.

She let go of you immediately when she realized, making you fall on the mattress, seeing you shiver for a moment when she caressed your back, both of you trying to catch your breaths for a minute.

You didn’t realize her walking away, your mind to focused on the aftermaths of your high, it wasn’t until you felt her turn you around carefully, a damp towel cleaning between your legs making you hiss a little.

When she finished cleaning you up she threw the towel somewhere, laying down besides you, her hand wiping away the hair from your face making you hum “was it too much?”

You opened your eyes at her worried voice, shaking your head immediately “it was perfect, thank you” you whispered, kissing her lips softly as you wrapped your, still shaky leg, around her middle, your hand stroking her cheek softly.

“Good” she chuckled pulling you closer to her.

You stayed like that for a while, looking into each other’s eyes, still calming down after your highs, before you broke the silence “you know… I don’t do this often, never done it actually” you chuckled as you felt you shyness creep into your cheeks “and I really like you, so maybe… we could do this another time”

Your heart was about to pop from your ribcage.

“Of course, I’d love to, doll” she kissed your forehead smiling, sensing your nervousness.

“Ok, good” you giggled, hiding you face into her neck.

Agatha chuckled with you, stroking your hair as she felt you arm wrap around her comfortably “just to clarify, I don’t to this often either” she felt your shoulders shake with laugher.

After a few minutes you pulled your head from her neck, your elbow resting on the pillow, seeing how the rays of the early morning sun coming from her window light her beautiful face.

“Agatha… did someone tell you, your name sounds witchy?” You hummed in thought, the older woman looking at you in disbelief for a moment.

“That’s because I am a witch, doll” she scoffed playfully, pinching your side and making you laugh, falling back on the bed as she caged you between her arms.

“Where are you powers then? I mean, every witch has powers, right?” You raised your eyebrow at her, your fingers pulling her hair from the bun she still had on.

Agatha stared at you for a moment, her long hair caging your face around it, it almost felt poetical “did’t I just show you? Maybe your little brain needs a reminder” her bit back, her lips lowering on your neck.

“Touché” you just giggled, feeling her fingers tickle your sides.

And suddenly the sound of your stomach roaring made the woman look at you “oh my god” you hid your face in your hands, both of you laughing into the air.

“Come on” she stood up and handed you she shirt “let’s get you something to eat”

“Only if I’m able to walk” you chuckled, your legs still numb from the two powerful orgasms the woman pulled from you.

Agatha laughed, helping you up from the bed and down the stairs.

When you watched her cook breakfast for both of you, your only thought was you could get used to this.

And you thanked the heavens for Yelena to drag you out tonight.

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha all along #x reader #agatha harkness x you #x you #smut #fanfic #marvel

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pedrospatch · 1 year ago

Text

fall into temptation | one

Jackson! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter Reader

series masterlist

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56, i know, i know but this is self indulgent because my birthday is next month idk just let me have this one) canon language, canon violence, several mentions of religion, terms pastor and preacher are used interchangeably here and there, mentions of the bible and religious symbols (cross), innocent/virgin reader, very brief scene of attempted sexual assault, no explicit smut (yet). asshole Joel, protective Joel, hints of softish dom Joel (if you squint). reader has two sisters, the only physical description for them is their hair, which they can also braid as well as their style of clothing.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 8.4k

Jackson, Wyoming

Fall 2024

Joel had seen him around the community before.

He’s an older man in his late sixties or possibly his early seventies with thinning, snow white hair and silver, wire rimmed glasses that always seemed to be perched on the tip of his pointed nose. He was a good, kind man from what Joel could gather—offering up warm smiles and friendly waves to anyone who happened to cross his path, stopping to greet and say hello to familiar faces. The hem of his starched white shirt is tucked into pressed black slacks and even from where he stood across the road near the horse stables, Joel noticed the book clutched in his right hand, old and bound in supple, worn black leather with the words Holy Bible etched into the cover in flaked gold lettering.

Jacob, he thinks his name is. Or was it Josiah?

Something biblical—a name fit for a man who was so fucking clearly devoted to the big man upstairs.

Joel knew his own name was a biblical one, but he was the furthest thing from a man of God. After all that he’d done in the past twenty years, there was only one place he was going and that place wasn’t exactly known for its pearly gates or sweet cherub angels playing harps.

Joseph? Was that it?

He couldn’t be certain.

Not that Joel really even cared to know his name.

It’d been a couple months since Joel arrived back in Jackson with Ellie after Salt Lake City and the truth of the matter was that he preferred to keep to himself whenever it was possible. Joel had zero interest in getting to know the people of this settlement, not unless he had to for the sake of patrol duties—and that’s only if he hadn’t been able to weasel his way out of getting assigned with a partner who wasn’t Tommy or Maria, the only two people in the whole fucking community Joel could stand being around. Minus his kid of course, but even he and Ellie could really only take each other in small doses lately. Perhaps it was their tense, strained relationship that was to blame for the fact that Joel Miller walked around this place with a standoffish attitude and a permanent scowl plastered on his face.

Most people were smart enough to scamper off in the opposite direction when they saw him coming. He was never offended by it. It’s what he wanted. He wasn’t here to make friends.

In fact, the closest thing he had come to a friend outside of his brother’s wife was Esther, the woman Maria and Tommy had tried setting him up with when he first got back to Jackson. He wouldn’t go as far as calling her a friend, either. That’s a little too generous. Friend? No, more like a good fuck when he couldn’t drown his bitterness with Seth’s barrel aged bourbon and he was in need of a different kind of distraction.

But there was a reason this particular man piqued his curiosity. Actually, there were three reasons he managed to garner Joel’s attention and all three of those reasons were trailing behind him in an orderly, single file line, each one more fucking gorgeous than the last. He was positive he’d never seen them around before—because how could he possibly forget the faces of the most beautiful women in this town?

They’ve gotta be sisters, Joel thought to himself, his hand resting on the neck of the horse that he’d ridden out to patrol that morning, a dark, chestnut mare named Willow. Although he was supposed to be walking her inside the stables and back into her stall, he found himself far too distracted. While the three women weren’t identical to one another, the similarity in their traits such as hair color and their skin tone confirmed his suspicions that they were related. They all styled their hair in neat halo braids and wore slightly different color variations of the same getup—pressed, long sleeved blouses tucked into knee length floral printed skirts and worn, leather oxford shoes.

Clutching the brown leather strap of his rifle in his opposite hand, Joel leaned himself against Willow and squinted against the bright afternoon sunlight in an effort to get a better look at them.

The first two were slightly on the older side. If Joel had to take a shot at their age, he would guess the women were in their thirties—a man of fifty six, he still had about two decades on them, easy. Joel let his gaze shift, his dark brown eyes flickering to the last one. His breath audibly hitched in his throat and part of him wondered just how fucking dumb he had to be to be drawn to the youngest one of the three. It couldn’t be fucking possible—you couldn’t be that much older than your mid twenties, if that.

Joel’s grip on the strap of his rifle tightened.

All three of you were beautiful beyond words—why the fuck did it have to be you who held over his interest?

“Take a picture,” Maria remarked with a tiny laugh. She dismounted her horse and peered at Joel over the black stallion’s back. “It’ll last longer.”

She’d led that morning’s patrol, her first time back on duty since she had given birth to her son in the spring. Joel had returned to Jackson right on time to meet his one month old nephew, Noah.

He cleared his throat and shrugged. “Just tryin’ to figure out what their deal is, that’s all.” He paused, then remarked, “Didn’t know polygamy was a thing around here.”

His comment must have struck a nerve in his dear sister in law—fiercely protective of the people who were under her leadership, Maria hadn’t found the sister wives implication the slightest bit amusing.

“Watch it, Joel,” she admonished, shooting him a warning glare. “He’s the town’s pastor and those girls happen to be his daughters. So let’s keep our wise ass cracks to ourselves, shall we?”

His daughters? He almost couldn’t believe it. Surely the girls must have taken after their mother because they sure as hell didn’t get their good looks from their old man. They hardly looked anything like him.

“Pastor,” Joel repeated with a small hum. He then remembered her pointing out an old church house back during the winter when she’d given him and Ellie the grand tour of the community. “So he ain’t got a real job like the rest of us?”

Maria rolled her eyes. “His job is a real job, Joel. It might be hard for you to believe, but there are still a lot of people of faith around here,” she explained to him. “He provides them with comfort and with hope—”

He snorted sharply through his nose. “Hope?”

“Yes, hope,” she snapped at him.

“Hope for what, Maria? That things will go back to fuckin’ normal? That the end of the world is temporary?”

Maria crossed her arms over her chest, jutting her chin. “Some people never lose hope, Joel. There’s a lot of people who need this man and he serves a much bigger purpose than what you’re giving him credit for.”

“And what about the girls? They have it easy too? Do they just stand there lookin’ pretty on Sundays while their old man reads verses out loud from the most useless fuckin’ book known to man?”

“If you must know, they work in the schoolhouse,” she answered, tossing him another glare. “They’re teachers. The oldest one, she teaches Ellie’s class. The middle one, she teaches the primary school aged children and the youngest? She takes care of all of our little ones. She prepares our preschool kids for her sister’s class by teaching them numbers and basic literacy. Shows them how to start counting, reading and writing, things like that. She also helps run the commune’s daycare.”

“At least they have real jobs,” Joel mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?”

He feigned innocence. “Nothin’. Nothin’ at all.”

“That’s exactly what I thought.” Maria pointed her finger at him. “Come on, let’s get these guys back into their stalls. It was a long ride this morning, I’m sure they could use some rest.” Taking her stallion by the reins, she started leading him over toward Logan, one of the stable hands who helped take in the horses coming back from patrol.

Joel took Willow’s reins in his hands—but before he could even think of moving another muscle, he glanced up and saw the preacher leading his three daughters past the stables and right past Joel. His self control faltered. All that he could do was stare at you, his eyes fixed on you so blatantly that one of your sisters had taken notice. Grinning, she turned back towards you and lifted a hand to her mouth. She used her palm to shield her lips from Joel’s view and whispered something to you over her shoulder.

Shit.

He’d been caught gawking.

He thought about making a beeline for the stables but it was too late.

Perplexed by whatever it was that your older sister had just said to you, you gave her an odd look, but then followed the subtle nod of her head.

Glimpsing over in his direction, your lips parted in complete surprise and you came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the dirt road when you found your gaze meeting that of the much older, rugged man standing there with a gun slung over his shoulder.

Unsure of what else to do, Joel simply offered you a polite nod of his head. The gesture was innocent enough but it startled you. He could tell by the way you let out a small gasp and turned away from him, your eyes falling to the ground as you scurried to catch up to your father and sisters like a spooked little mouse.

Joel couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh.

“Is the preacher aware that his precious little daughters pay frequent visits to The Tipsy Bison at such late and ungodly hours?” Joel quipped. He gestured to a booth nestled over in a corner of the dimly lit bar with a subtle jerk of his chin. “S’gotta be the third or fourth time I’ve seen them here in the last couple of weeks.”

Tommy’s eyes followed his brother’s gesture. “Oh man, not again,” he said with an exasperated sigh. He shook his head. “Those girls, they ain’t got no fuckin’ business hangin’ around this place and much less at this fuckin’ hour. But the middle one, she’s a whole lot of trouble.” He paused, just long enough to nod at one of the three sisters, the one who was wearing her hair loose around her shoulders, twirling a lock of it around her finger as she made flirtatious fuck me eyes at the group of drunk patrolmen sitting a few tables away. “She’s somethin’ of a rebel, that one. Likes to drink a lot, get herself involved with things that she ain’t really supposed to be messin’ with. She’s the one who convinces the other two into sneakin’ out and comin’ to the bar when their old man goes to sleep.”

Joel chuckled in disbelief. “You fuckin’ serious?”

“As a heart attack. And then there’s the older one. I know she likes to drink too, but she’s a lot calmer than the other one. Ain’t gotta worry about her all too much, y’know? She tries to be the chaperone—it don’t always work out that way, though. Her halo ain’t exactly perfect either.”

“What ‘bout the youngest one?” Joel asked in the most nonchalant tone he could possibly muster. “Where does she fall on the scale between angel and devil?”

You’re carefully perched on the edge of the booth, your pretty features twisting in disgust with every sip of the rich, amber colored liquid in your glass. Unable to stomach the burning alcohol, you set it off to the side, abandoning it in favor of a glass of water instead.

“Her?” Tommy grinned, leaning back into his chair as stated, “Oh, she’s an absolute angel. She’s just ‘bout the sweetest fuckin’ thing you’ll ever see in your whole damn life, big brother. She’s gotta be the kinda girl who all the little birds and woodland critters sing to when there ain’t no one around,” he laughed. “She’s real good. Too good. Wouldn’t surprise me if the lord sent her down from heaven himself.”

Joel tossed him a skeptical look across the table.

“She really as innocent as she seems?”

“I don’t think she even knows what it’s like to hold another man’s hand,” his younger brother laughed again and reached for his beer, taking a generous swig.

Joel hummed softly and lifted his glass of whiskey to his lips. The mere thought of you being so pure and so innocent—untouched by anyone else—caused something to stir deep in his lower belly.

“She’s the old man’s pride and joy,” Tommy continued, breaking into his train of thought. “Kind. Polite. Behaves. Doesn’t get herself into any kinda trouble—I mean look at her, she can’t even choke down a glass of whiskey. She’s just too good of a girl.”

Joel proceeded cautiously with his next question. “Any of them taken?”

Surprised, Tommy raised his eyebrows. “Joel, don’t fuckin’ tell me—”

“No, I ain’t interested,” he interjected, rolling his eyes. “Just a curious motherfucker, that’s all.”

He didn’t seem too convinced by Joel’s answer. “They’re all single from what I know. To be honest, there ain’t a whole lot of men around here their old man would approve of,” he remarked. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice man and all, but when it comes to his daughters, he’s real strict. Not that controllin’ has done him much good, though.” He lowered his voice as a fellow patrolman walked past their table. “The middle one’s fucked her way through this entire town and then back again. She even made a pass at me while Maria was pregnant with Noah, if you can fuckin’ believe that.”

Amused, Joel snorted into his drink. Ballsy. “How goddamn drunk was she?”

Tommy ran a hand through his jet black curls. “Wasted. Oldest one ain’t exactly the Virgin Mary, either.”

“And the old man doesn’t know?”

“Nope. Ain’t nobody gonna snitch on grown women in their thirties.” Noticing the amused expression on Joel’s face, he adds, “By the way, just in case you haven’t figured it out, this stays between us, Joel.”

He smirked. “Which part?”

“All of it. And take it from me, those girls? S’best you keep your distance from them,” he warned as he stood up from the table. He picked up the blue denim jacket draped over his chair, shrugging into it. “Don’t go gettin’ any dumbass ideas, alright?”

“Look, if the wild one makes a pass at me, I ain’t gonna turn her down. S’not like I’ve got a pregnant wife at home.”

“Joel, I fuckin’ swear. If you even think ‘bout it—”

He held up his hands to stop him. “Relax. Was just a joke.”

“Right. M’sure it was.” Tommy snorted. “Listen, I gotta get back home. Don’t wanna leave Maria on her own with the baby for too long.”

“How’s she been holdin’ up?”

“She’s been so tired. Jugglin’ motherhood, runnin’ this place, and bein’ back on patrol duty. I keep on tryin’ to tell her to slow it down, but she just won’t listen to me.” He let out a small sigh and waved a dismissive hand. “But anyway. If you’re all good to head out, I can walk you back to your place since it’s on the way to mine?”

Joel looked down at his glass, still half full. “I think I’m gonna hang back for a while longer. I’m on the roster for evenin’ patrol tomorrow, s’not like I’ve gotta be up at the ass crack of dawn.”

“Suit yourself.” Clapping him on the back, Tommy bid him goodnight and started towards the door.

As soon as he was gone, Joel looked over towards your booth. He watched as you whispered into the ear of your eldest sister who nodded her head in understanding. You stood up and said something else to her, then spun around on your heel, long skirt flowing along with the movement. Head down, you hastily made your way across the bar, being careful so as not to bump into anyone along the way.

You were leaving. Alone.

In the middle of the fucking night? While drunk morons poured in and out of the bar?

She’ll be just fine, he tried to convince himself.

Joel frowned to himself, gripping his drink tightly in his hand as he scanned the room.

Sitting at a nearby table was Kent, some idiot he’d been stuck with a time or two for patrol. He clocks the smirk that crossed the younger man’s face, his eyes following you all the way to the door. Leaning forward over the table, he whispered something to his buddies, his smirk widening. His comrades, all who looked and behaved more like teenagers rather than grown men, lifted their beers to him, nodding in encouragement. Drunk off his ass, Kent drained the rest of his own beer, slamming the glass bottle down onto the table before clumsily stumbling to his feet.

Joel momentarily froze as soon as he realized what was happening.

Kent was going after you.

Joel’s lips pressed together into a tight, thin line.

Setting his drink down, he stood up from his table and slipped on his jacket before following suit.

Joel stepped out of the bar and into the night, the chilly evening air nipping at his face. He took a look around.

You were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Kent.

That couldn’t fucking be good.

“Where the fuck did you two go,” he muttered to himself under his breath.

That’s when he heard it.

The sound of muffled screaming coming from the side of the building. Joel didn’t hesitate. Following your smothered cries for help, he whipped around into the dimly lit alley nestled in between the bar and the commune’s mess hall. You’re pinned underneath Kent with your skirt bunched up around your waist. One of his hands was covering your mouth while his other hand clawed its way up your bare thigh.

“Aw, c’mon now, sugar,” Kent slurred his words together. “It’d be a fucking shame to let someone as cute as you stay a fucking virgin. Don’t be coy—I know you’re just like your stupid slut of a sister. She’s got no trouble spreading her fucking legs for me, y’know.”

Red.

It was the color that flashed in Joel’s mind. It was all he could see as he went up behind Kent, letting his hands reach for fistfuls of his leather jacket. He lifted him off of you with ease, slamming him hard against the brick wall of the mess hall. Pulling him forward, Joel slammed his body into the wall once more, knocking all the wind out of his lungs.

“Miller, what the fuck are you doing!” Kent gasped out, frantically pawing at the older man’s hands in an effort to break free. “Get the fuck off me!”

“Takin’ advantage of an innocent girl?” Joel hissed at him, tightening his grasp on the collar of Kent’s jacket. “Think that makes you a fuckin’ man?”

Though he was still intoxicated, the sheer terror of being caught in Joel Miller’s hands sobered him just enough that he started sputtering an explanation. “I wasn’t fucking taking advantage of her! Her and her whore sisters were making eyes at me and the guys all fucking night! She fucking wanted it! She asked me for it, couldn’t even wait long enough to get back to my place—”

The lie came straight through his chattering teeth. The same teeth he would be picking up off the ground in the next minute or two.

Joel knew he didn’t need to ask. Still, he turned to you, his rage only intensifying when he took in the sight of you lying there on the ground, the hem of your light blue floral skirt hiked around your waist.

“That true?” He questioned you. “You wanted it?”

You stared at him with wide and fearful eyes.

A single tear slipped down the side of your face.

“Answer me, darlin’,” he prompted. “You wanted this?”

“No. I didn’t.” Your voice was small, barely audible.

But he’d heard it loud and clear.

“She’s lying!” Kent tried to tell him. “She’s—”

Joel delivered the first punch, a blow so hard he’d felt the younger man’s nose crack underneath his curled fist. He struck him again and again, the blows coming in harder and harder, turning Kent’s face into a bloodied pulp.

If Joel didn’t get a grip, he would kill him. Part of him wanted to fucking kill Kent for putting his hands you—and more so for accusing of you wanting it. Pathetic fucking bastard.

Holding Kent up by the throat with one hand, Joel pulled his switchblade from the back pocket of his jeans with the other. Fingers curled tightly around the hilt, Joel held up the knife into Kent’s view. He had left his eyes purple and swollen, but judging by the pitiful little pleas for mercy, it was clear that he could still somehow see the sharp blade being held an inch or so away from his face.

“If I ever catch you anywhere near her again, I ain’t gonna be so fuckin’ generous,” Joel growled warningly. “I ain’t gonna let you walk away next time, boy. That understood?”

He nodded. “Un—Understood.”

“Good.” Joel released him, stepping backwards as he fell to the ground. “Get the fuck outta my face. Now.”

Kent managed to scramble to his feet and staggered off, disappearing from the alley.

Chest heaving, Joel inhaled a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled it through his mouth before turning to you once more.

Petrified, you still hadn’t moved a single muscle.

You looked fucking terrified. Whether it was from Kent’s assault or the way Joel had nearly beaten him to death right in front of you, it was hard to tell.

Crouching down beside you, Joel caught your subtle flinch. He proceeded to move slowly as he reached for the hem of your skirt. Delicately, he gripped the soft, flowing fabric and pulled it down into place. Joel then held his hand out to you.

You hesitated for a split second, but accepted his hand and allowed him to help you up to your feet.

“You alright, little dove?” The nickname had fallen from his lips before he could even think to stop it.

“I think so,” you replied, nodding your head. You’d started to tremble and even though it had nothing to do with being cold, Joel took notice of it and he shrugged out of his camel colored jacket. He gave it to you, draping it over your shoulders. The scent of him instantly enveloped you—a mouth watering masculine mixture of clean soap, woodiness, and musk. It was far more intoxicating than the scotch you had tried back inside the bar. He didn’t utter a word to you as he wrapped his jacket around your body, both of his hands pulling gently at the lapels to bring them together in front of your chest. That was when you glanced down and saw he’d injured his hand. You gasped lightly. “Are you okay?”

Maybe it was the adrenaline, but Joel hadn’t even noticed that he’d split his knuckles wide open. Giving it a light shake, he assured you gruffly, “M’fine.”

Without thinking it through, you gingerly grabbed Joel’s hand, holding it in both of yours. “It doesn’t look like nothing,” you countered. You inspected it as best as you could in such poor lighting. “You’re bleeding.”

“Trust me, I’ve had a whole lot worse,” he deadpanned.

Ignoring his remark, you asked, “Can you move all your fingers for me? Just to make sure that it isn’t broken?”

Joel felt a strange warmth radiate in his chest.

Fucking hell, Tommy had been right about you.

You really were too good.

“Darlin’ I already told you m’fine—”

“Please?”

That word, and the way you’d said it, sent a shiver up the length of his spine.

Joel started wiggling his fingers in your palms. He winced slightly at the soreness. More than that, he knew his cuts and bruises would be all the fucking proof Tommy and Maria would need to know that he had been the one who rearranged Kent’s face.

“See?” He spoke after a minute as he continued to move his fingers up and down. “Ain’t broken.”

“Let me clean you up,” you offered. Looking up at him, you cradled his hand as if it were a fragile baby bird you wanted to take home and nurse back to health.

“That really ain’t necessary.”

“You just saved me from—it’s the least I can do for you,” you insisted. Seeing him open his mouth just to protest again, you cut him off. “Please?”

There it was again.

Christ. That word sounded too good coming from those plush, pretty lips of yours.

Joel sighed out in defeat. “Alright then,” he relented. “I s’ppose there ain’t no harm in lettin’ you clean me up a bit, little dove.”

Pleased that he had finally accepted, you carefully let go of his hand and took a step back, beckoning for him to follow you. “Come with me,” you said to him. “I know somewhere private we can go.”

When you came to a stop at the old church house, Joel shook his head and took a step backwards.

Puzzled, your brows knitted together. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

He backed away further. “I ain’t goin’ in there.”

You tossed him an amused glance. “It’s a church.”

“Yeah, I know that. I ain’t exactly a man of God.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “So? What does that have to do with me taking you inside to clean your hand up for you?”

Shuffling his weight from boot to boot, Joel shrugged. “Just don’t think I belong in there, that’s all.”

“Do you think you’re going to melt if you step foot inside?” you teased him. After a minute, it became apparent that he was being serious about it. Joel’s discomfort about going inside the church wasn’t some kind of joke on his part, it was real. “Don’t be silly. It doesn’t matter that you’re not a man of God. That doesn’t mean that you’re going to explode or burn into a pile of ashes for going inside, you know.”

“After all the terrible shit I’ve done?” He looked up at the building, shaking his head again. “I just might burn, little dove.”

You bit back a small smile. You’d already grown to be quite fond of his sweet nickname for you.

“There’s a first aid kit inside I can use to patch you up,” you told him. “It won’t take long, I promise.”

His lower lip rolled in between teeth as he thought it over. “I ain’t too sure about this—”

“It’s only going to take me five minutes to get your hand cleaned up and then you can leave. Okay?”

You were as stubborn as you were sweet. How the fuck was he supposed to say no to you?

Reluctantly, Joel finally agreed to it. “Okay.” He followed you up the creaking, wooden porch steps towards the double doors. He’d just started to wonder how the two of you were even supposed to get into the building after hours when you leaned down, lifting the old mat on the floor to reveal a set of keys. Unable to help himself, he scoffed, “Serious?”

“Doesn’t everyone keep a key under their mat?”

“Yeah at their fuckin’ house. Not their church.”

“Well to be fair, this is kind of like a second home. I spend quite a bit of time here,” you confessed.

Joel raised an eyebrow at you. “So much time that you’ve decided to keep a set of keys under the mat?”

Sheepishly, you nodded. “Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night, I’ll come here alone and sit with my thoughts for a while.” You shrugged. “Maria let me have the spare set of keys. She knows I come here and so does the rest of the council. I trespass with their full permission,” you kidded with a small grin.

Unlocking one of the two doors, you stepped over the threshold and waited expectantly for Joel. But he stood there, making no move to join you on the other side.

“This place gives me the fuckin’ creeps,” he admitted.

You laughed. “It’s only the outside that’s creepy, I promise.”

Grimacing, Joel finally walked inside, his back and shoulders stiff with tension as he stepped into the place of worship.

You closed the door and flipped on the lights, then opened a second set of double doors with another key from the ring.

“Whoa.” He was pleasantly surprised. For as old as this place was, the interior of the church was quite nice. He could tell that it had been well cared for in its lifetime—the former contractor in him had little choice but to appreciate the high ceiling, the large windows, and the satin finish of the white paint on the rustic, wooden panel walls.

There were a total of twelve pews, six on each side of the church. There was an older, antique piano in pristine condition nestled over in one corner of the room and in another, there was a large chalkboard propped up on a wooden easel, biblical verses that had been the focus of the congregation’s previous gathering still scribbled across it in white chalk.

“See?” You nudged his arm with your elbow. “This isn’t so awful, right?”

“S’ppose it ain’t all that bad,” he muttered.

Your eyes twinkled with pure amusement, adding, “And you didn’t burn into a pile of ashes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel grumbled out in response. “Can we just get this over with so I can get outta here?”

You tossed him a playful little eye roll then nodded towards the pews. “Go ahead and just have a seat anywhere,” you instructed him. “I’ll be right back.”

You disappeared down a short, dimly lit corridor.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel slowly made his way down the aisle holding his injured hand against his chest. Now that the adrenaline had started wearing off, it’d started throbbing with pain.

There was an altar at the front of the church—if he could even call it an altar.

It was a plain oakwood table with a white fair linen cloth draped over it and nothing else.

Above it, bolted onto the wall, was a wooden cross.

He averted his eyes, turning away from it.

Of all the shit to be intimidated by in this world.

A fucking slab of carved wood.

Joel’s attention shifted over to the chalkboard. He squinted at it, silently reading the verse to himself.

God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability. 1 Corinthians 10:13

“But with the temptation, he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it,” you recited the rest of the verse from behind him.

“No offense darlin’, but it sounds like nothin’ but a whole lotta gibberish to me,” he remarked to you over his shoulder.

“No offense taken, Joel.”

Whirling around on the heel of his worn boot, Joel blurted, “How did you know my name?”

“You’re Tommy Miller’s brother. Everybody in this town knows your name.” You held up the white tin box in your hands. A big, red cross had been spray painted onto the lid. You sat down in the first pew and patted the seat right beside you. “Come sit.”

He sauntered over and dropped down next to you, watching as you opened up the box and started digging through its contents. “You know my name,” he stated after a few seconds of silence. “Sure would be nice for me to know yours.”

Smiling politely, you told him your name.

Joel repeated it. It rolled almost too sweetly off his tongue.

“S’real pretty, little dove. Just like you.”

His compliment nearly knocked all of the air out of your lungs and for a split second, you have to remind yourself to breathe.

Cheeks burning, you murmured a small thank you and plucked a bottle of saline solution from the kit along with a piece of clean cotton. You tried not to think about the way his eyes were fixed intently on you as you unscrewed the cap and poured a bit of the liquid onto the cotton. “It shouldn’t sting,” you reassured him, reaching for Joel’s injured hand. It was rough and calloused, a stark contrast against your own soft and smooth. You set his hand down on your knee, a strange sensation fluttering in the depths of your lower belly when the warmth of his skin seeped right through the fabric of your skirt.

Comfortable silence fell over the both of you like a curtain as you started cleaning the blood off of his knuckles and his long, thick fingers.

“You really believe in all this stuff?” Joel spoke, his question echoing off the bare walls of the church.

You continued dabbing at his cuts, thinking it over in your head for a moment.

“I honestly don’t know,” you admitted.

Your answer took him by complete surprise.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I have always been taught to believe in God, Joel. It’s all that I’ve ever known. I grew up in a religious community,” you explained to him, making sure to keep your eyes focused on his hand. Tossing aside the bloodied wad of cotton, you picked up another piece adding more saline to it. “After the outbreak, things changed, of course. I couldn’t imagine how He could let something like this happen. When we lost our mother to infection about five years ago, I stopped praying. I finally stopped holding onto the ounce of hope I had that He would make the world right again. I refused to believe in God. Sometimes I still do,” you confessed quietly.

“You said you spend a lot of time here. Why come to church if you’re not even sure you believe in any of this shit anymore?”

“I’m always here because there’s still a part of me that thinks there’s a chance for me to believe again. When I told you I come here when I can’t sleep at night, it’s true. It’s my time to be here completely alone, the time that I use to mend my broken relationship with God. Or at least, I’ve been trying to mend it.” Taking a little glass pot of homemade antibiotic ointment one of the women in the town made and traded, you took off the lid and scooped out some of the salve with the tip of your finger. You applied it carefully to his cuts and continued, “But lately, the more that I try to pray and talk to Him, the more foolish I feel. It’s just not working. It hasn’t been working for a long, long time.”

“Then why keep tryin’ if it ain’t workin’ anymore?”

“Because I don’t really have much of a choice.”

“Your old man?” Joel guessed, wincing slightly as you went over a particularly sore spot on his hand, right over the torn up knuckle of his index finger.

“Mhm.” You nodded. “My father never lost faith in Him. He knows how I feel, but he refuses to let me give up on God. He won’t ever let me miss church or go to bed without reciting my nightly prayer. He won’t let me abandon our faith. Not until the day he is cold and buried in his grave.”

“So what I’m gettin’ is that he forces you?”

You finished applying the ointment and wiped the remnants lingering on your finger off on your skirt.

“Force is such a harsh word. I wouldn’t say that—”

“He’s forcin’ you,” Joel said, flatly.

“Joel—”

“You can twist it however the hell you want, sweet girl,” he cut you off. “But if you’re tryin’ this fuckin’ hard to make yourself believe in somethin’ just for the sake of appeasin’ your dad because he can’t or won’t accept how you really feel ‘bout all this, well I hate to break it to you, but you’re bein’ forced.”

Your eyes widened ever so slightly at his words.

You had never thought about it like that before.

Placing the lid back onto the pot of ointment, you put it back into the first aid kit and then set the tin box down onto the floor. You sat back and clasped your hands together in your lap, not knowing what else to say to him.

He was right, after all.

Joel’s fingers lightly squeezed your knee. “Hey.”

You brought your gaze over to meet his. “Hm?”

“Can I ask you somethin’ ‘bout your dad?”

“What is it?”

Joel chose his words carefully. “Has he ever—he ain’t ever done anythin’ to hurt you, has he?” he asked you, earning himself a perplexed stare. He continued to elaborate. “What I mean is, he ever put his hands on you or anythin’ like that?”

Oh. That’s what he meant.

“Never,” you assured him quickly. “He would never lay a single finger on me or my two sisters.”

He gave your knee another squeeze. “Just needed to make sure of it, sweetheart. Back in the day, I used to hear and see awful things on the news ‘bout—”

You were quick to cut him off. “Look, my father isn’t perfect, but he’s not like that. He’s a good man who only wants what is best for us. He’s strict and he can be tough, but it’s only because he cares. He just doesn’t want us running down the wrong path.”

“The wrong path?”

You shrugged. “Life here in Jackson is decent, but there’s a lot of temptations he doesn’t want any of us falling into. He wants to protect us.”

“By controllin’ you.”

It had been a statement, not a question.

Giving him a wry smile, you assured him, “Joel, it’s really not as bad as you’re making it sound. I could be a whole lot worse off than this, you know.”

There was another short bout of silence.

Joel’s dark eyes fell to your blouse, noticing how a couple of the top buttons had come undone.

He caught the slightest glimpse of the soft curves of your breasts—all it had taken was just a peek at them for his cock to twitch against the zipper of his jeans.

Don’t you get hard in a fuckin’ church, Miller.

His gaze wandered down a little further and that’s when he caught sight of the cross hanging from a delicate gold chain clasped around your neck.

Joel expected the sight of it to calm the straining in his jeans. Somehow, it only made it worse.

“Earlier, when we were standing outside,” you had started to say, “You said you might burn if you came inside the church because of all the terrible shi—things that you’ve done.”

“S’right.”

You peered at him with curiosity. “So what exactly have you done, Joel?”

Joel leaned back into the pew, shaking his head at you as he finally pulled his hand from your knee.

“You really don’t wanna know, little dove.”

“Why not?”

His answer was honest. “Don’t want you to be scared of me.”

Angling your body towards him, you placed one of your hands on his thigh. Your fingers burned right through the dark blue denim of his jeans.

Joel’s lips parted slightly, taken aback by the bold move and the sudden shift in your demeanor.

Were you the same girl who’d nearly had a fucking heart attack a couple of weeks ago when Joel had nodded at you back at the stables?

“I’m not scared of you,” you murmured, softly. You gave his leg a squeeze, pulling your plump bottom lip between your teeth. Between that and the wide innocent doe eyes that you were giving him, it was taking every last ounce of strength Joel had inside him to keep a straight face, to pretend you weren’t driving him absolutely wild with desire.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt such an incredible need to have someone.

Want, sure.

He had wanted Tess. He had wanted Esther.

But Joel didn’t just want you.

He fucking needed you.

And he didn’t know why.

“I’m not scared of you,” you repeated, trailing your hand further up his thigh, setting a fire neither one of you would soon be able to contain.

Joel leaned forward, bringing his face dangerously close towards yours. His warm breath fanned over your lips. It was still laced with bourbon. “You sure ‘bout that, darlin’ girl?”

You tried to answer him in the steadiest voice that you could muster, but it was impossible for you to hide the effect this man had on you.

You breathed out a shaky, “I’m sure.”

Lifting his uninjured hand, he reached up to tuck a loose lock of hair that had fallen out of your braids behind your ear. As his hand fell away, the palm of it grazed against the silkiness of your cheek.

Though brief, the contact sent an electric current through each and every last single nerve ending in your entire body.

Exhaling sharply, your eyelids fluttered closed. You nearly whimpered out his name. “Joel?”

“What is it, babygirl? What do you want?”

“I—I want you to kiss me.”

Joel leaned in even closer, stopping only when his mouth was less than an inch away from yours.

You heard him chuckle softly.

“Y’know, I’d expect better manners from a good girl like you,” he tsked lightly, his nose skimming near the corner of your mouth. Closer. “What’s the magic word, little dove?”

“Please.”

“S’much better.”

Your heart pounded with anticipation.

It was almost too much for you to handle.

Joel closed the remaining gap of space, capturing your lips with his own. He remembered his brother talking about you at the bar—how he had told Joel that you had never even held a man’s hand before.

It occurred to him that he was giving you your first kiss. Him. Joel Miller. The town’s resident asshole and a man who was well over twice your own age. He was the one giving you your very first kiss.

The guilt suddenly started to creep in, sinking into his bones.

What the fuck had he been thinking?

And what about you?

Where the fuck had your common sense gone?

Probably ran off together with Joel’s.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling away slightly in an attempt to stop it from going any further. He tried again, mumbling against your lips, “We gotta stop. This ain’t right—”

You were having none of it.

None.

Clutching fistfuls of Joel’s denim shirt, you swung your leg over his thighs and straddled his lap. Your knees rested on either side of him on the bench.

“Please,” you nearly pleaded. “Just kiss me. I want it—I want this. I promise you that I do.” You placed both of your hands on his broad shoulders, sliding them around him as you slowly sank down further onto his lap. “I want this, Joel.”

Suddenly, he realized that you were asking him for more than just his kiss.

Now he knew for sure that all common sense had left that pretty little head of yours.

“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”

Desperate, you uttered one final, “Please.”

Joel bit back a groan. How could he deny you?

He couldn’t. Simple as that.

“You sure ‘bout this?”

Your fingers toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Yes. I’m sure.”

“C’mere then, darlin’ girl.”

Joel cupped the side of your face in his large palm and tilted his head up towards yours. Your mouths fused together and although he tried to be gentle, it was proving to be much too difficult—how could he be gentle when you were practically clinging to him? Holding onto him with fervor as if you’d been holding onto dear fucking life itself?

Temperatures rising, you quickly shrugged out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind you with a soft thud before wrapping your arms around him once again. You melted against him as your mouth molded to his in a perfect fit.

His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore the cavern even further.

Eagerly, your lips parted, granting him access. His tongue slipped past them, meeting yours in a slow and sensual heated dance.

You breathed him deeply into your lungs, a little moan vibrating at the back of your throat.

Joel’s hands went to your waist and he yanked the hem of your blouse free from your skirt.

“Can I feel you, baby?” he asked, breathlessly. His mouth abandoned yours and he began to trail hot, open mouthed kisses underneath your jawline.

Dazed, all you could do was nod in reply and utter, “Mhm.”

Joel’s hands slipped under your blouse and he slid them up the length of your sides. “Fuck, you gotta be the softest fuckin’ thing,” he cursed against the delicate, tender flesh of your neck. His lips latched onto your pulse point, suckling at the skin there as his fingertips dug into your hips. He needed to feel more, but he forced himself to wait. The last thing he wanted to do was make a wrong move or move too fast and scare you off.

“Joel,” you mewled his name. “Joel, I need—”

You trailed off, moaning when his mouth released your skin with a loud, wet popping noise.

“Tell me, sweet girl. Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you,” he promised. “Anythin’ you need or want, I’ll give it to you. Just say the fuckin’ word.”

“You, Joel. I need you.”

His hips involuntarily bucked upwards and you let out a startled gasp the moment you felt his bulge, hard as a rock, brush against your clothed cunt.

Tearing away from him, it suddenly hit you. You’re in a church, straddling a much, much older man in a pew—and if that wasn’t sinful enough, the warm and slick arousal pooling between your thighs only proved that you were ready to fall into temptation, give into the lust and give your body to Joel. But it was none of those things that worried you. It was something else.

You pulled yourself out of his arms and jumped up off his lap, nearly tripping over your own two feet.

“Darlin’ are you—?”

You didn’t even hear the rest of his question.

Knees trembling, you somehow managed to make your way up to the altar. Heart pounding and head spinning, you planted both of your hands firmly on the table and steadied yourself. Part of you hoped that Joel would just get up and leave. But a bigger part of you hoped he wouldn’t.

Joel rose to his feet. “Listen, ain’t nothin’ wrong if you changed your mind, alright?”

“I didn’t,” you choked out. “That’s—that’s not it at all.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

Embarrassed, you tried to explain yourself. “I have never done anything like this before. I’m a—”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to say the word out loud.

“You’re a what?”

Blazing heat flooded your face. “Joel, please don’t make me say it,” you groaned. “For the sake of my sanity, don’t make me say it.” You heard the sound of his brown leather boots as he walked up behind you, one heavy footstep after the other.

“Turn around, sweet girl.”

Joel’s command was firm but still gentle.

Swallowing dryly, you obeyed and did as you were told. He stood close and you found yourself at eye level with his chest.

“Look at me.”

You tried, but couldn’t.

“I said, look at me.” Joel gingerly took your chin in between his thumb and index finger. He lifted your face, forcing your gaze to meet his own, timid and submissive meeting bold and dominant in a sweet and tender exchange. “Never known the lovin’ of a man, have you little dove?”

He backed you up against the table, pinning you in between it and himself. Planting both of his hands on either side of you, he caged you in and brought his chest flush against yours, pressing your bodies together.

Close, but somehow not close enough.

Joel lifted his hand to your cheek, cradling it in his palm. His thumb swept over your quivering bottom lip.

You reached behind you, clutching at the fair linen as you tried with every fiber of your entire being to remind yourself that you were standing at the altar where your father preached and delivered all of his sermons to the faithful people of Jackson.

The very same altar where your father encouraged you to kneel and pray in effort to mend the broken relationship you had with God.

You couldn’t help but to think if you were to get on your knees tonight, it wouldn’t be for prayer.

“I asked you a question, darlin’.” Joel’s voice broke into your train of thought. “Need you to be a good girl and give me an answer, alright?”

“My father loves me,” you stammered out in reply. “He loves me and my sisters—”

“C’mon, babygirl.” He chuckled and shook his head at you, lightly pinching your cheek. “That ain’t what I mean and you damn well know it.”

Sighing softly, you finally answered, “No, Joel.”

“No, what?”

“No, I’ve never known the loving of a man.”

Joel slipped the tip of his thumb between your lips and leaned into you, his hardness pressing against your upper thigh. Even through all the clothes, you could feel every inch of him. “Do you wanna know how it feels, baby? What it feels like when a man makes you his own?”

You nearly moaned around his finger. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” he prompted, pulling his hand away.

“Yes, please.”

“I can show you.” Joel paused. “But not tonight.”

You stared at him in disbelief. Both of you were so clearly riled up and he was going to take a pass?

He almost laughed at your expression.

“C’mon, don’t give me that face.”

“But Joel—”

“Just don’t wanna rush it, not with you,” Joel said in a tone so soft it nearly threw you for a loop. “M’gonna need you to be real patient for me, just for a little while, alright? You think you can do that, little dove? Think you can be patient for me?”

Your answer came without an ounce of hesitation.

“Of course,” you breathed.

You would wait an eternity for Joel Miller.

#joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller series #joel miller story #joel miller self insert #the last of us fic #pedro pascal characters #fic: fall into temptation

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freakyformula · 2 months ago

Text

Stockholm Syndrome

Summary: Mafia Max kidnaps the reader and tries to win her over.

A/N: Might make a part two... Maybe.

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, swear words, mentions of injuries, oral (both receiving), creampie, light spanking....

Word count: 7,7k

The sound of music and glasses clunking filled your ears as you sat with your friend on the balcony of the most extravagant nightclub the city could offer. The menu was filled with ridiculously expensive drinks and appetizers.

You didn't live here, but your best friend Emma did. You two had known each other since you were in kindergarten and spent every day together in school. When you got a little older though, life got in the way and you got separated by university and work. This didn't stop you two, you still spoke almost every day on the phone.

Emma had recently gotten promoted and decided to invite you over to her city to celebrate. Neither you nor Emma had any other friends, it was just you and her, always together.

You didn't really know why she'd decided on this club, but you had to admit, it was impressive with the expensive-looking ornaments and the huge crystal chandelier hanging in the middle of the industrial building.

As you looked around, all you could see was well-dressed men and women. You felt misplaced.

"I need a fag so bad." Emma declares and struts off, leaving you alone inside.

Sitting alone made you feel even more awkward and you could see the others looking down at you with what looked like pity in their eyes.

You sipped on your Spritz and looked down, embarrassed. You dressed modestly, wearing an off-shoulder midi dress in white, fitting you perfectly. Emma and you had been shopping for dresses for the occasion earlier that day. When you got ready a couple of hours earlier, you thought you looked okay, but right now, you couldn't feel more unattractive.

A bunch of men barges out from a room in the back, making the other guests quickly move out of their way. The men were dressed in all black and walk up to the bar, a couple of meters from you. You quickly turn around in the fancy leather sofa, not wanting to draw their attention. When you turn around, you notice a man exiting the same door from which the other males exited only a few seconds before. This man was unlike the others; he strolled in with gentle steps, whereas the others made their arrival sound like a swarm of hippos was approaching. And he looked so put together. That suit of his must be really expensive.

You catch yourself staring and quickly look away.

"Wanna dance?" You hear Emma yell from behind. You really weren't in the mood but you obey her wish. You follow her to the dance floor. You threw your hair and sang along to the song, making the other guests look at you in annoyance, but you couldn't care less in that moment. All you were here for was to celebrate your friend and her accomplishments.

As you walked up to your table again, you went by the bar and inspected the menu closely. You decide on a cocktail and place the order.

"This one is on me." You hear, the raspy sound coming from behind.

The bartender quickly starts working on your order as the man looks at him. You turn around and lock eyes with the man you saw before. He gazed down at you and gave you a sweet smile.

"Sorry, Max." He introduces himself and offers a handshake.

"Hi, I-I'm Y/N." You reply and shake his hand. His handshake was powerful, just like you thought it would be.

"Y/N. Beautiful name. Now tell me, Y/N, what lured a beauty like you to my club?"

You're shocked by his statement, which makes him chuckle, but still keep eye contact.

Is this man the owner? But he looks so young, surely he's lying, right?

"I… I'm here with my friend." You say and point to your friend who is half asleep on the leather sofa, clearly completely off her face.

"I see." Max turns to look at you again. His gaze is so intense, that it almost makes you uncomfortable.

You turn to look at the bartender, who is taking longer than usual to finish your drink. Max lingers by your side, making small talk with you and what you assumed were his friends until you got your drink. "It was nice meeting you, Y/N. Enjoy the rest of your night." Max smiles at you and you sip on your drink and give him a smile back. He was pleasant to be around and you felt a little lonely when he and the black-suited men followed him. You went back to your table only to realize that Emma has dozed off.

"Emma, wake up!" You yell at her. You try shaking her without luck. She was out and there was no way of waking her.

"Fuck, always drinking too much…" You mutter to yourself. Now what were you supposed to do? Before you could think further you started to feel drowsy. "The hell?" You ask yourself as you too drift off into a comfortable slumber.

The sound of men talking fills your ears as you're lulled out of your sleep. The bright light makes it hard to see and it takes a while for your eyes to adjust.

"Where am I?" You ask.

No answer. The satin pillows under your head aren't yours. And you didn't recognize the room either. You were too groggy to register anything about the room you were in, except that it was light. Wait, why were you in a hospital? You try to move your hands to rub your eyes but your hands are stopped. You look up at your hands, they're bruised by the handcuffs around your wrists.

"What the… actual.." You whisper to yourself. Now, panic starts to take over all of your senses and you spring up from the mattress to your knees.

"Help!" You yell.

The room felt sterile, and even if your sight was blurred you noticed the white tile walls and what looked like medical equipment in a couple of cabinets on the other side of the room.

Panic fully encompasses you and you place your legs against the wall to try to pull the metal off your hands. You've quickly used all of the remaining energy. Your eyes water up and you look around for something to help you escape. Everything you see to make you company in the room is the mattress, a couple of pillows and the cabinets.

You cry out and try to remember what exactly happened last night. Emma. Where was Emma? You think to yourself. You had to get out of here. As you're about to start struggling with the chain again you freeze, hearing footsteps and voices from outside of the door.

"Open the door." A familiar voice says, followed by the sound of keys clinging.

You have no idea what to do, so you just collapse on the mattress, pretending to be asleep.

As the door opens, you hear multiple footsteps approaching you.

"Good morning, beautiful." The voice whispers. "Get out before I kill you all." He says, barely audible, assumably to the others in the room. Before you can even register it, the room is empty, except for you and the man.

You feel someone rubbing your arm lightly.

"Ik weet dat je wakker bent." I know you're awake

You have no idea what the familiar voice just said, and just keep your eyes shut. The voice sighs and walks off. You hear a thump and you can only assume that the man has sat down on the floor.

You lie there, quiet, not daring to move an inch.

"You know, Y/N… As long as you treat me nicely, I will do the same to you." The voice speaks.

How does the voice know your name?

Slowly but surely, the happenings of last night come to mind.

The man you met at the nightclub. Max. Was he behind all of this?

You don't dare to look up to check if it's him you're sharing the room with, but the voice is similar.

You hear him moving on the floor, shuffling his way over to your mattress. When you feel his fingers on your hand you instinctively kick in his direction. The man is quick though, and dodges the kicks from you. As if by routine, he grabs your swinging legs. You let out a cry, and you two settle with him looking down at you lying on your back with your legs in his embrace.

"Max…. Where the fuck am I and where is Emma?" You look up at him with tears flowing on your cheeks as you tremble in fear.

"Shhhh, sweetheart, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then why the fuck am I here?!" You yell.

"You're simply here because I want you, and I couldn't risk you getting away last night."

You stare into his mellow eyes and try to process what he just said.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm Max Verstappen and I'm the head of the mafia around here." Your body tenses up when you hear him. Mafia? Max looked way too innocent to be a part of the mafia. This had to be some sort of sick joke.

"You're mad, you know that? Now, let me loose and we'll forget about all of this." You try to bargain.

"Oh no, that's not how this works, Y/N. You see, I can't just let you go, you belong to me now."

"Where is Emma?" You ask again.

"Your friend? She's safe."

He lets your legs go and starts pacing the room.

"Why me?" You ask in confusion.

"Because you tick all of my boxes. You're beautiful, you've got class, you're funny…"

"You don't know anything about me, creep." You mutter.

"Oh trust me Y/N, I know more about you than you probably realise."

You crawl into a ball, sobbing your heart out as Max looks at you.

"Let me help you, Y/N. I don't want to hurt you, but I also can't let you go.

His words enlighten a rage in you, a rage that you thought you weren't even capable of.

"I literally met you last night, motherfucker! Don't barge in here thinking you know me when you clearly know nothing." You yell at his face.

He looks completely deflated as he looks at you. He stares down at his shoes and seems to think about what to say next. "Clearly, this will take time." He finishes and walks out.

A couple of weeks pass, and you're moved to a new room, equipped with your own toilet, proper bed, kitchen table, and two armchairs. Max would visit you multiple times a day to get to know you, sometimes spending hours upon hours sitting in that stupid armchair of his, either trying to strike up a conversation with you or just sitting there in silence, keeping an eye on you. Either way, he seemed to enjoy himself.

You, on the other hand, either ignored him or argued back to anything he said. You weren't going to make this easy for him, that was for sure. How he kept his cool, was beyond you.

"Liefje, stop that." He sternly says as you hit the door, desperate to get out.

"You know there are at least 12 heavily armed men on the other side with strict orders not to let you out, right?"

You couldn't give less of a fuck, they might as well kill you.

When you're about to hit the door once more, you feel Max's hands on yours, hitting against the door one last time. He presses you against the metal door and keeps his hands on yours.

"You will do exactly as I say, will you not, hm?" Max asks.

"Kill me then! You might as well kill me if I'm going to be held here like a prisoner for the rest of my life!" You yell in his face.

Day after day, he'd come. Sometimes he'd bring you a bouquet of flowers, which you tossed in the trash immediately, sometimes he brought you something you'd requested, like a McDonald's cheeseburger or Lindt chocolate. You were grateful he actually cared enough to bring you those things. Some kidnappers surely wouldn't treat you with this much dignity, you resonated.

A couple of more weeks pass and Max starts to bring you gifts. Clothes he thought you'd look good in, jewellery he'd put his eyes on and needed to buy for you to wear, shoes he'd take off your feet at some point.

He convinced you to eat dinner at the same time as him. Usually you'd wait for him to finish his meal in order to avoid having to face him. To you, it would equal defeat and you were adamant on making his life a living hell.

"So, could this be concidered a first date?" He smiles at you.

"In your dreams, Verstappen."

His whole body shuddered as he heard you use his last name.

You sitting at the same table as him was progress. In the beginning, you wouldn't even look his way.

"So, when are you letting me free?" You ask with a stern tone.

"When I know you won't run away."

"So in theory, never?"

"If that's what you want." He shrugs as his eyes darken. "I will always find you if you run away. Always."

A couple of days pass and Max once again walks into the room. He'd visited you in the morning, accidentally waking you up. Now though, he was ready for dinner.

"My cook made us dinner." He says as he takes off his coat and approaches you sitting at the table, completing a puzzle he'd bought for you; you were pleasantly pleased when he stepped in with it, you'd mentioned that you enjoy crocheting, reading and solving puzzles at some point, and he'd picked up on that.

"Hmmmm… I'm not hungry." You say.

"I know you're hungry Y/N. My men told me that you didn't eat breakfast."

And he was right, you were starving.

"Ugh… Hate you." You mutter to yourself.

"You don't mean that." Max whispers, reassuring himself.

You move over so you sit opposite the handsome man. You gladly eat the food the cook made, you have to admit that the food they made was delicious.

Max looks at you fondly while you eat until you look up at him.

"What?!" You ask, irritation evident in your voice.

"Just admiring my girl."

"You slam down your fork into the table, leaving four small dents in the wood.

"Your girl? I'm not your girl Max. You kidnapped me! I'm not here of my own free will."

He smirks at you. "Just give me some time and I'll change that."

"Do you promise to be a good girl?" He asks of you as he ties the blindfold around your head.

"Yes, Max." You sigh.

Finally, he was moving you from the lonely room to his very own house.

He leads you into the car, making sure you're comfortable.

On the way, the guards, the same men you met that night, kept communicating with each other. You wondered how many men Max needed to feel safe.

"Don't worry about them, it's only a precaution to keep us safe. I've got important cargo on board." He chuckles as he grabs your hand and squeezes it reassuringly.

You huff, "Last time you call me cargo, imbecile."

When Max opens the door for you and removes the blindfold, you finally realise the extent of his wealth.

What he had defined as a house was a mansion in reality. And the garden… Surely, this is where he got those bouquets from. You also catched a glimpse of the padel course and the swimming pool close by.

All of the guards welcomed you respectfully. It was weird seeing all of them like this, months after your first encounter at the club.

"Y/N, these are your personal guards, Daniel, Lando, and Charles. They will keep you safe at all times." Max states.

The men don't dare to look at you, afraid of Max's reaction. They simply just nod.

Living with a mafia boss had it's perks and drawbacks. He'd bring you flowers from his garden daily, and gifted you something ridiculously expensive weekly meaning your new wardrobe started to fill up with new expensive clothes and jewellery. Max didn't trust you enough to be alone outside the house, so you were still followed by at least one of the guards.

You tried your hardest to be nice to them, it wasn't their fault that you were in this unfortunate situation. They were clearly uncomfortable being your guards, not wanting to look your way, touch you or talk to you, afraid of their fate if they angered their boss. You were thankful though, they helped you with things you needed help with and stayed out of your way when you needed them to.

You had to admit, you lived a comfortable life. You'd spend your day either by the pool or comfortably inside the large, luxurious house. You wouldn't have to lift a finger again with Max as your man. The problem was, you were itching to get out into the world again. You had no contact with the outside world. You missed your parents and siblings at home. You missed Emma. Hell, you even missed work.

One day, after dinner, Max walks up to you with a box.

"Open it." Max encourages you.

"Not another gift, Max. I've told you, I don't want any!" You complain.

"I promise, you will like this one."

You sigh and study the neat black box with a black ribbon on top.

And Max is right, you love the gift. He had gifted you a phone, how generous of him. Finally, you had a way to keep in contact with the world. You had one contact. Emma. You immediately dial her and wait for her to pick up.

"Hello, who is this?" You hear your dear friend ask.

You instantly burst out crying when you hear her voice.

"It's Y/N! I'm so glad to hear your voice!"

"Y/N?! What the fuck, where are you, are you okay? I reported you missing months ago! Honestly, the police, your parents, and I started to lose hope of finding you." You hear her sobbing too.

"I'm okay, I've been forbidden to tell you where I am but I'm fine. Please send my parents my regards."

You continue talking for the rest of the evening. Max leaves you to it, trusting you enough not to tell your friend about your whereabouts. Max permitted you to call Emma once per week, and your calls was all you looked forward to. Hearing Emmas voice was soothing and felt like home.

"Y/N, I'm going mad, where are you? I want to meet up." Emma asks after a couple of weeks.

You look up at Max and Lando, both of them standing in front of you, hearing her question as she's on speaker.

"Uhhh, I'm afraid I can't tell you, Emma, but I hope we can meet up soon." You nod at the men and they nod approvingly back. Not being able to tell your best friend hurt more than it should have. That night you spend sobbing your heart out into one of your goose down pillows in your bed, cursing Max out as he pats your head.

"Fuck you, Max!" You curse.

"Shhhh…. It will get easier. And if you behave and act like a good girl for me, I'll let you meet Emma." Max tries to soothe you.

The day after, you tried calling your parents when Max didn't see or hear, but the call didn't come through. Surely, Max had a function on it, meaning the only person you could call was Emma. Max found out that you'd disobeyed him by calling your parents and took your phone away, enraging you even more. You soon realised that the only way you'd get out of this was by obeying Max's rules.

You were peacefully eating breakfast when Max and a couple of his men followed him into the kitchen.

He sneakily appears behind you and steals a piece of your toast as you're about to have a bite.

"Heyy!! Thief!" You yell.

Max and his men let out a giggle at your annoyed expression.

"I'll be home at 7 pm, okay?" Max asks.

"Yeah." You shrug at him. He gives you a small smile and turns around.

You spend the day at the pool, reading a book Max gifted you. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov. Why he chose that book, you didn't know. Daniel and Charles spend their day near you, standing guard. Luckily they don't have to be by themselves and you can hear them laughing now and again.

You craved a friend like that too. In a way Max was unfair, he let his men talk to each other and have friendships but letting you meet Emma was out of the question.

You figured you'd freshen up before Max got home, and walked inside. The men didn't follow for once, seemingly deep in a conversation.

That meant that you could discover the mansion by yourself. The men had stopped you from exploring the whole building for some reason. Mindlessly, you strolled around the house, checking the doors. Weirdly, all of them were locked. Bored, you walk back to your room. On the way, you walk past Max's room. Curiosity overwhelms you and you check the door, and it's open. You hear the floor creak as you walk on it. You try to walk even lighter as you find your way further into the room. The floor was painted in a dark wooden accent and the ceiling was filled with paintings of angels, lambs and plump clouds. You turn to the fireplace with a huge painting of a man above it. The man looked like an older version of Max, surely it had to be either his father or grandfather.

All of a sudden, the lights come on, and you see Max standing in the doorway.

"Sneaking around, are we?"

"No, no, it wasn't like that!" You try to explain, as Max walks closer to you.

"Shhhh…" He shushes, "This is the perfect opportunity to show you our bedroom. This is where you'll be sleeping for the rest of your life when you decide to move in."

"I like it?" You say, insure about the dark red tones and tassels spread around the room.

Max takes notice of your facial expression. "I'll have it renovated for you, maybe that will encourage you to move in quicker?" Max asks. "I'm making no promises." You shake your head and give him a teasing smile.

Max creeps closer to you, not breaking eye contact. You've gotten used to the man and you don't back off when he walks closer to you. He grabs your arms, pulling you even closer. You feel the heat he radiates as your bodies touch. And that signature cologne he wears every day smells different at this proximity. Before things get too heated for your liking you pull away, which results in Max pulling you in again, making you yelp. He bends down and places a delicate kiss on your forehead. Then, finally, he lets you go.

You're so shocked, you don't even register that his hands aren't holding you in place, and you stand there for what feels like an eternity, staring into his ocean-blue eyes. Your breath is heavy, and so is his. Max returns his hands to you, but this time he doesn't hold you in place but rather supports you. His hands wander from your sides down to your hips.

Max lets out a small moan. "Feel so good. You're driving me crazy." His words are messing with your head. You know what he's trying to do and you refuse to fall for his gaslighting. But goddamn, his hands felt so good on you. His hands grow bolder and fall to your ass, giving it a little squeeze.

You break from his soft hold and glare at him.

"Too soon? Sorry, liefje."

A couple of weeks pass, and you're growing accustomed to Max and his life.

You and Emma talk almost daily at this point and you're starting to enjoy your surroundings, despite the lack of freedom. Well, lack of privacy to be exact, as Max has let you off his premises a couple of times to do some shopping. The guards were still following you wherever you went though.

Max would try to get closer to you, stealing light kisses on your forehead and cheeks.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Max smiles when he sees you walk into the kitchen. You grab the kettle, "Good morning… You sound like you're in a good mood."

"I am, I actually have some very exciting plans for us later." He says as he walks around the kitchen island and walks up behind you, turning you around.

"Here." He lends you his black card, "Take this and get yourself something nice for later."

"Max… What do you mean by "nice"? You ask.

"Something that will make people drop their jaws, I give you free hands."

And with that, he leaves for work. Lando, Daniel, and Charles are ordered to take care of you. They quickly nod and wait for you to get ready. Just to mess with them a little, you take your time eating breakfast, choosing your outfit, and applying makeup.

"Finally!" Lando exclaims, followed by a slight push by Charles. They lead you outside, walking close by in case you decide to run away. What they don't seem to realise is, you're in heels and you're not running anywhere with them on.

You walk around the mall all day in order to find something nice to wear for the evening. It was harder than you thought, especially since you had no idea of what Max's plans were.

You finally decide on a black maxi dress with a slightly exposed back. You walk out from the changing room and ask the men for opinions.

"Errrm, it's fine, I guess?" Charles answers, unsure of what to say.

"It looks awesome on you." Daniel corrects his co-worker, followed by an approving nod by Lando.

"What exactly are I and Max doing later?" You ask the trio of guards as you walk out of the shop with a couple of shopping bags in their hands.

"He told us not to tell." They simply state.

"Ugh." You roll your eyes at them, annoyed by their loyalty to their boss.

Your eyes land on a jewelry shop, and the most beautiful necklace you'd ever laid your eyes on. You turn your heel, making the men almost crash into you. They apologize profusely but you don't listen. "Good day, miss." The store clerk greets. "Searching for something in particular?"

You walk over to the grand necklace. "How much is this?"

"100." The salesperson states.

You look at them, confused. 100? Surely the necklace was worth more than that.

The clerk must've noticed your confusion because they cleared their throat and looked at the men behind you with a questioning look.

"100 000, miss."

The words came off their tongue like it was nothing. On the other hand, you could not believe what you'd just heard.

"….100 000?" You question. "Consider it sold." You say, smiling. The clerk turns and stares at you with big eyes. The trio behind you stare at you with even bigger eyes. Theoretically, you could get a house for the same price. You finish up the deal and walk away as a proud one hundred thousand necklace owner with the guards taking care not to walk into you again.

When you get home, it's already late and you need to start getting ready.

"When is Max coming home?" You ask Lando.

"Soon." He answers, leaving you alone in your room.

You take a quick shower to freshen up. You wrap a towel around your naked body and when you get out of the bathroom you're startled by Max, as he's lying on your bed scrolling on his phone languidly.

"What the fuck, Max? That's my bed!"

"Hello schatje, miss me? And actually, you're in my house, I can do whatever I want in here."

You groan, "Some privacy please?!"

Max gets up and gives you a quick kiss on your cheek, something you don't fight against.

"Wanted to see you, that was all." And with that, he exits your bedroom and closes the door.

You get ready for him in record time. When you come down the stairs, he's already waiting for you. The dress you wear fits you like a glove and you feel sexy. What finished your look off though, was the necklace, that you'd paired with some other jewelry to match.

Max meets up with you halfway and takes your hand, kissing it.

"When I said 'free hands', this is exactly what I had in mind, Y/N."

"Do you like it?" You ask, giving him a spin.

"I love it, I love you." He admits as he pulls you close and kisses you. This was unexpected and you should've refused but you just… couldn't. When he pulls away he studies you once again and huffs,

"So beautiful, mijn liefde."

"Ready?" He asks as he guides you out to his car.

"When are you going to tell me what we're doing?"

"I'm taking you to see my mother."

"You're taking me to meet your mother?! I thought you were taking me for dinner!"

"Well, technically I am, she's an excellent cook and she's making dinner for us."

You shake your head aggressively, not happy with the situation. Max keeps talking as if nothing happened on the remainder of the car ride. "Here we are." Max says happily as he turns onto the road leading to his childhood home. You see a lady waving on the stairs leading up to the large manor.

"Max, Y/N." She yells. "I'm so happy to finally meet you!"

"Mama!" Max runs to hug her.

He walks back to you to lead you up to his mother.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you." You try to be nice to the woman and give off a positive impression.

"Hello, I'm Sophie, Max's mother. He has told me so much about you."

You give him a questioning look as you walk in. They give you a tour of the large house, and you can't help wondering what both Max and his mother are doing with such large houses when they live alone, excluding the guards of course.

"I hope you're hungry, I've made dinner!" Sophie tells you with a wide smile.

Sophie is one of the best cooks indeed, and you eat with a good appetite, much to her delight.

Sophie spends the rest of the dinner sharing awkward stories about Max. He buries his face in his hands in order to escape his mother's story about how he shot himself in the foot when he was 11. "And then, he stole his father's gun and ran away… Not knowing it was loaded." She explains.

You enjoy their company, and you can tell that Max has inherited his nice manners from his mother.

"Will you excuse me and Y/N for a moment, I'd like to show her the rose garden?" Max asks his mother.

Sophie nods and you take off outside, it's getting late and chilly, so Max offers his suit jacket to you. As you slowly walk towards the garden, Max creeps closer, wrapping his arm around your back and landing his hand on your hip.

"Your mother is lovely, Max." You look up at him.

"I know, and she seems to love you too."

When you reach the garden, he stops you. "I brought you here because I wanted to ask you to be my one and only for the rest of my life." He asks as he leans in, stopping only a few centimeters from you.

"W-what are you implying, Max?" You ask nervously, looking him straight in the eyes.

"I'm asking you to be my beloved. I want to make you my wife, the mother of my children. I want to grow old with you, and die by your side."

His words makes your stomach flutter. You can't help yourself anymore, you crash into his mouth and he very eagerly kisses you back.

"Max…" You moan, out of breath. "I think I like you."

He sighs. "I love you, Y/N, and I intend to make you love me too, but I understand if it takes time."

As you walk back up to the manor, Sophie is already standing at the stairs.

"We better leave, it's getting late." Max looks at his armwatch.

After saying your goodbyes and getting into the car, Max drives homeward.

His hand is glued to your thigh the whole way, squeezing it.

You feel yourself getting wetter by the second, and you press your legs together. Max must have noticed this, because he pries your legs open with his hand. He quickly slides his hand up to your heat before you have the chance to close your legs again.

"Mijn god, you're so wet already. And I haven't even done anything yet." Max gasps as he moves your thong to the side and slides his finger along your slit.

"Max, please."

"So pretty, begging for me like this. Are you mine, huh? Are you?" He asks.

"Please, please. I'm yours."

Max groans and stops the car at the first bus stop he can find.

"Get in the back." He commands. Luckily he brought the SUV, because there was plenty of space for you and him in the backseat.

"Come here, beautiful." He pulls your dress up to your hips as you slowly straddle him, taking care to not rip your dress.

"Just like that…" He whispers. "Don't be scared, I'm not going to hurt you." You can hear your own heart beating, and Max probably noticed too.

"Can I touch you… Like this?" He asks as he kneads your buttocks. All of a sudden, he gives your left asscheek a slap, making you yelp.

"Ouch! What was that for?" You raise your eyebrow.

"For making me wait so long." He whispers, feeling his breath on your face.

You enjoy him massaging your ass but you have another place that desperately needs some attention. You try to grind down on him to get some friction but when you do, he grabs your hips to hold you still. You groan, looking at him disapprovingly.

"What do you need, schat?"

"Need… Need you."

"Need… This?" He asks as his hand wanders to the sides, pulling your thong halfway down your legs and touching you where you need him most. His finger starts flicking your clit while he slowly and gently inserts a finger into your cunt, making you moan out. You feel your walls tightening around his finger deliciously, making him moan. You grind down on him while he adds another finger into your aching pussy. By curling his fingers, he quickly makes you scream out your orgasm. It was drawn out, warm, sweaty and stopping your breath. You collapse on him, making him chuckle.

"We need to continue the drive…" Max whispers in your ear when you've come down and your breath has steadied.

The rest of the car ride home, you spend looking at him, you study his features… His dark blonde ruffled hair, big puffy lips, delicious thighs, blue eyes, and his beautiful soul. Deep down, you knew he was good, he was just brought into the wrong family and upbringing.

Were you falling for him? Absolutely. Helplessly, shamelessly.

When he parks in front of the house, he walks over to your side and pulls you into his arms, carrying you inside.

"I was hoping you'd sleep with me tonight…" He looks down on you.

"If you promise not to snore." You smile up at him. He bursts out laughing at your shenanigans.

"You're allowed to kick me off the bed if I do…" He softly replies as he walks up the stairs.

The guards are smart enough to stop in their tracks at the stairs, leaving you completely alone with Max.

"Why does this feel like some sort of wedding night?" You whisper.

"Does it? Are you nervous?" He looks at you with worry in his eyes.

"Yes… I mean no. I mean… Uh, maybe a little?"

"Don't worry, liefje. You're okay." He whispers back in your ear.

By the time you reach the bedroom, his lips are on yours in a delicious and heated kiss. He lets you down from his arms but as soon as your legs reach the floor his hands are on your hips, swaying you from side to side.

"Would you like to dance?" He asks.

"I can't dance…." You look down in embarrassment.

"Everyone can dance." He huffs and walks up to a stereo hidden in his wardrobe. The songs on the old CD give off the exact atmosphere Max wanted. He walks up to you and grabs your hands, leading you to the middle of the room. He lifts your right hand up slightly and places his other hand on your hip, swinging you from side to side to the music. He leans down and rests his head on your shoulder, letting out a deep sigh.

"You won't believe the effect you have on me, Y/N." He mumbles.

You hum and keep slow dancing. When Max lifts his head, he puts his hands on either side of your face and leans in to kiss you. The kiss was heated and turned into a makeout session. You feel your knees becoming weak and Max grabs you to hold you upright. He gives you a tiny nudge to take a couple of steps back and when you feel the edge of the bed behind your legs you collapse on top of it.

Max takes a moment to admire you as you lift yourself on your elbows and pout your lips. He hovers over you, picking your legs up on the way.

"Is this fine? I don't want to hurt you." And you nod as an answer. How in the fuck is this man a mafia boss. You'd never been with a man this caring.

He unzips your zipper and slides the dress down your body, with your help. The sight he's met with was like something from a wet dream. You, with a naked chest, in front of him lying in his bed. He slips your dress off, pulling your thong off along with it.

"So fijn…" He coos as his hands wander on your body. When his hands land on your bare chest you look up at his wide eyes. Your hands reach for his, grabbing them and holding your breasts with him. You gasp at the feeling of his rugged hands on you sliding along your sides, finding their way lower down. He leans into your heat, giving your clit a light kiss, looking at you for permission to dive in. As soon as you nod, he sticks his tongue out and tastes you. The taste makes him moan out loud. He's sure the guards downstairs can hear his sounds but he doesn't care at the moment.

"Taste so good, princess." He says as he laps his tongue around your clit and down to your pulsating hole, teasing it with his tongue. He continues eating you out as his finger works wonders on your clit. You try to cum quietly but you're unable to when Max sucks your clit into his mouth while adding two fingers into your sopping cunt.

You announce your orgasm, "I'm cumming!" and grab a hold of Max's hair to bring him impossibly closer as you cum all over his face.

"My turn." Max growls and pulls you up on your knees, as he quickly pulls his pants down to his knees. You see the outline of his dick in his underwear. You get the hint and pull his briefs down, and his dick springs out, making your mouth water. It was above average but not too big. He had more girth than length, and the head was pink and… puffy? For lack of a better word.

You instinctively open your mouth and stick your tongue out, giving max full access to your mouth. He doesn't waste a second and sticks his cock into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat instantly. You gag, but he doesn't stop. He wasn't rough per se, he was still attentive and stopped when you started struggling.

"Taking me so well…" He breathes out as he pushes himself into your gape again.

"Do you think you're ready to take my cock?" He asks.

You let his length go with a pop and nod.

He positions you under him, with your legs placed on his shoulders. "Do we need to use protection?" He asks.

"I'm clean and I've got an IUD."

"Good, let me know if I'm too rough."

And with that, he slides his cock through your lips and teases your entrance. Finally, his tip finds its way home, and you yelp out at the feeling of the intrusion. He slowly pushes his whole length into you while you try to breath through the feeling of him stretching you out. He gives you a break for you to adjust to his size.

"You okay?" He checks in.

"Yeah… Please move."

Max slides his length out, leaving only the tip inside of you, and pistons his way inside of you again.

"Oh god… So big." You moan.

He chuckles and increases the pace. You can't help yourself, and moan out in pure enjoyment.

"Shhhh…" He shushes you, putting his hand over your mouth.

He increases the pace even further and you squeeze your eyes shut in another toe-curling orgasm. Max doesn't stop though, and continues destroying your dripping pussy.

"Come here…" He pulls you up and you watch him lie down, and get on top. You grab his dick and guide it to your entrance. At this point, you're so wet that it slides in without any resistance.

You start riding his cock at a slow pace, making Max grunt in desperation. He grabs your hips, trying to set a quicker pace but you're having none of it. You slap his hands away and continue at your own pace.

Your pace quickens when you feel Max twitching in you, spilling his seed inside your pussy. He groans out every last drop that he has to give and pulls you down to his chest, peppering your face with kisses as you giggle at his antics.

"I love you." He admits as he stares into your eyes with a warmness in his eyes, something that you hadn't seen before.

When you part, he studies your pussy as his cum drips out, playing with it and stuffing it inside of you again.

You're exhausted after the nights activities and you collapse on the bed, falling asleep within a minute.

You're awakened by birds chirping and chattering. Your vision is blurry but you see the outline of Max on the other side of the bed. You stretch your body and hum happily, having last night's happenings fresh in your mind.

"Come here, Max… It's too early to be up."

It wasn't, but you'd gotten used to sleeping in over the last couple of months.

"Good morning, mijn schat." He coos as he walks over to you, kneeling on the bed. He gives you a quick peck before he pulls on your arm carefully, encouraging you to get up while you grunt, still plagued by exhaustion. "I guarantee pancakes if you get up." You look up at him and spring up from bed, suddenly not feeling tired at all anymore.

When you're done with your morning routine, you walk out of the bathroom and see Max getting dressed, with his back to you. You're shocked to see 5 small dents on his back, making you walk closer to inspect. As you trace your hand along his strong back muscles, he tense up.

"Stop that, Y/N." Max asks sternly.

"Why?" You tease.

"I said stop it!" He turns around and grabs your hands, holding them in his strong hold.

You yelp. "You're hurting me!"

As soon as he hears that, he immediately lets you go. His change in mood makes you take a few steps back in fear.

"I'm so sorry, liefje… I just c-"

"Don't touch me." You warn him holding your pointer finger up.

"Please, let me explain. I'm sure you can guess what those marks are. You see, Y/N, I'm not proud of what I am. Those marks remind me of what a monster I really am."

Your heart melts when you hear the man in front of you talk that way about himself. The usually so hard and masculine man is suddenly small and showing emotion. You see his eyes watering, looking fondly at you.

"Oh, Max…" You walk up and hug him, while he hugs you back with a tight grip.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." He sobs into your shoulder.

"I know, I know." You comfort him. You lead him to the bed, making him lie down while you lie down on top of him, grounding the man.

After lying like that for what feels like a minute but surely was more like 10 minutes, Max lifts you up, smiling.

"Thank you, mijn schat. You're so kind to me, despite my flaws. Now, didn't I just promise you pancakes?"

You get up and strut down to the kitchen, smiling and laughing, happy with the fact that Max was making you one of your favourite breakfast dishes. In the end, you had to give him some assistance, men are bad at multitasking, but you didn't mind at all. The teamwork made them taste even better.

The guards are no where to be seen so you and Max get to enjoy your breakfast in piece on the porch, enjoying the view over his garden.

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rebelspykatie · 1 year ago

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Robin convinces Steve that Eddie is interested in him, just based on how frequently he flirts with Steve. Uses the same logic that Steve deployed to convince her to give Vickie a shot. Except, there’s no doubt about who Eddie could be attracted to. He’s gay and doesn’t really flirt much with women, keeps it more surface level.

But with Steve, he’s all over him, getting in his personal space, tapping his chin, batting his eyelashes and draping himself over his lap during movie nights. Steve’s confident in his newly discovered attraction to men, and subtly tries to turn up the charm on his end. Flirting back, giving as good as he gets, but it never seems to affect Eddie.

Steve’s gotten used to striking out. Never really catching anyone’s attention these days, what with the lackluster attempts at being interested in the mundane things some of the girls drone on about, to being afraid to sleep over for fear of a nightmare tearing him from sleep, to the way no one makes his skin buzz. He’s given up the pursuit of anyone else, setting his sights on Eddie, pushing gently at the boundaries that barely exist between them.

Until the first time Steve and Robin are invited to see Corroded Coffin perform at the Hideout. He watches from afar as Eddie bounces across the room before the show. He hasn’t spotted them yet as he makes his way over to the bar. There’s a cute, older guy bartending, probably in his late twenties, buzz cut hair, ripped leather vest accentuating his arms.

Steve watches in what feels like slow motion as Eddie leans over the counter to get as close as possible to this guy. That mischievous smirk that Steve’s used to seeing pointed at him is out in full force. Eddie is saying something, looking up at this guy, reaching out to squeeze a bicep and getting playfully batted away. Eddie lets the guy tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, almost a caress along the side of Eddie’s face.

And there’s a moment where Steve feels like he’s floating on air, suspended in a moment in time before a catastrophic shift changes his trajectory. He’s careening to the ground at break neck speed and crash landing all in a matter of seconds. A vice-like grip squeezes his heart, reminding him that he’s not special. He’s dissecting every memory of Eddie flirting, finding nothing consequential there in the wake of this discovery.

How stupid could he have been to think that it meant anything? That must be why Eddie never reacted to his advances, they were just a blip on his radar. He’s got this guy wrapped around his finger, just like he’s had Steve. Except Eddie’s never blushed like that around him, or let Steve tuck his hair away.

As much as he wants to turn around and get the hell out of here, he promised he’d come to Eddie’s show, even if looking at Eddie right now feels like a shot straight through his heart. That inexplicable draw to Eddie doesn’t just disappear. He wants to cross the room and drag him away from this guy, but what right does he have to do that?

He feels Robin’s hand slip into his, turns to look at her, sees a mirror image of how she looked on the grimy bathroom floor of Starcourt, letting Steve down gently. Their friendship past the point of needing to verbally communicate anything. Robin gently tugs on his arm to convince him to sit at a table, clasping his hand underneath it tightly when Eddie finally spots them and Steve has to pretend like he’s fine. And he is fine.

But he’s also not. His heart is cracking open with each note Eddie sings, the fault line growing until it feels like he’s split in two, bleeding out on the floor of this disgusting bar. When is he going to get it right? When is it his turn to feel wanted? Nancy and Robin hurt, but he feels blindsided by this one. He was so confident he was right, that this time it was reciprocated.

But maybe he’ll always be the fool.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #katie writes #as always #cross posted on twitter #also i'm so sorry in advance #not a happy ending #i live for angst

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coco-loco-nut · 7 months ago

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Clumsy

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader, Lando Norris x Twin Sister

Summary: You can’t help it if you’re a little accident prone

a/n: thanks for the request!

requests open masterlist

_________________

"Y/n, watch out," Lando grabs your arm, pulling you back. You give your twin a bewildered look before noticing the puddle on the ground.

"Thanks, Lan," you exhale. You and Lando were yin and yang. He was an asshole (at least to you), you were sweet and kind, he has done more than he will ever tell you, you are innocent compared to him, and Lando drives fast cars in circles following precise lines, you are always falling over the air.

"I don't think you should come out to the bars with us tonight," Lando says, a little too worried about you. He's your protective, slightly older brother.

"Lan, you never let me come out with you. Plus, you didn't invite me, Charlie did," you smile, referring to your boyfriend. Lando just shakes his head. You both somehow make it back to the hotel without incident.

"Charlie?" you call out to the shared room with your boyfriend. You hear the shower turn off so you just go to sit in the armchair to wait for him. You don't notice the bag on the floor and you trip, falling into the chair.

"Y/N!" Charles yelps, rushing out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist.

"Your fine- I mean, I'm fine," you stutter, blushing deeply. Charles let out an exhale, mixed with a bit of a laugh.

"What did you do, mon petit chou?" He asks, sitting on the bed.

"Tripped on the bag, in my defense it wasn't there earlier," you admit, laughing with Charles.

"Anything hurt?” Charles gives you a once over.

“My pride. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” you lower your head in embarrassment.

“That’s ok. I’m going to finish getting ready for the bar,” Charles kisses you before heading back to the bathroom. You put on leather pants and a cute top you used to wear to parties while in Uni.

“You look beautiful, chérie,” Charles steps out, his damp hair pushed back and the top few buttons of his shirt undone. He has his glasses on, only making him more attractive.

“I’m going to be fighting girls off all night,” you smile as Charles pulls you against him, his hands resting on your lower back.

“Then it’s good that I only have eyes for you,” his nose brushes yours.You lean in, capturing his lips. You are interrupted by a knock on the door. “I’ll get it,” Charles groans, pulling himself away from you.

“Are you guys ready?” You hear Lando’s voice. You grab your purse, despite knowing Lando and Charles will pay for everything. Charles wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you close in case you run into something you might trip over.

Surprisingly, alcohol in your system makes you less clumsy, something that Lando and Charles were surprised to see. You were having a great time dancing with Charles, his hands on your waist holding you close. Lando gags watching you, but is distracted by other drivers. You and Charles go back to the bar to get another drink after the song ends.

“I bet you are gonna sleep well tonight, Charles,” one of the drivers winks at your boyfriend. You look confused, not picking up the innuendo, but you brush it off and order two more drinks. You were drunker than normal, more than you have been in a while, and your clumsiness is returning.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you say in Charles’ ear.

“I’ll walk with you,” he says after noticing your stumbling. Oddly enough, there is no line in the women’s restroom so he walks in behind you, making sure you make it into a stall safely. You ram into the one wall, based on the thud he hears, and when you emerge there is a bruise on your arm.

“Amour,” Charles says, worried about you. “Want to go home? We can get you food to sober up,” he fusses, the both of you smell like alcohol.

“I’m okay,” you slur, Charles holds you steady while you wash your hands, seeing as how you stumbled to the sink. His grip doesn’t leave you as you go back to the bar to close the tab.

“Lando, we are going to food then heading back to the hotel,” Charles says, knowing you shouldn’t drink any more.

“I’ll go with you,” Lando excuses himself, wrapping his arm around you to help Charles. When you get to the fast food restaurant, Lando notices the bruise.

“What the hell happened?” Lando panics a little. Charles rakes his hand through his hair.

“Nothing, just an inchident,” Charles says. Distracted by Lando’s laugh at the phrase, neither of them notice that you slipped away to order food.

“Where’s Y/n?” Charles says, having a heart attack. You are clumsy, you could be on the road after being hit by a car, or bleeding out after accidentally cutting yourself with something sharp.

“Fuck!” Lando panics more, it takes them a minute to realize you are at the register fumbling with your purse. Charles inserts his credit card into the reader, paying for your meal.

“Charlie,” you pout.

“Stay by my side,” He kisses your pout. You make it home safe, likely due to the mother hens flanking you.

When you wake up, you feel Charles’ warm breath on your neck and his arms wrapped around you. You wiggle out, needing relief for your splitting headache. Unfortunately for you, this means you fell out of bed.

“Y/n?” Charles murmurs after hearing the thud. When he can’t feel your weight in his arms, he peers over your side of the bed to see you groaning on the floor. “You ok?” He asks, his morning voice deep and raspy.

“Hangover,” you groan, getting up to go to the bathroom. “Go back to sleep,” Charles doesn’t think much of it and waits for you to return to bed. He pulls you close when you lay back in bed, the best way to keep you safe are cuddles.

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 grid x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc

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scribendis · 10 months ago

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𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝

Aemond Targaryen x female reader (third person perspective) ❖ husband & wife

Warnings: smut, dry humping, p in v sex, semi-public sex, newlyweds being horny, little bit of profanity, breeding kink if you squint really, really hard Rating: 18+ MDNI Word count: ~3,500

Summary: Upon returning to camp from a hunt in the Kingswood, Aemond looks for a way to keep his wife warm on a bitterly cold night.

A/N: Serendipitously conceptualized ages ago but written (very late!) for the first week of the @hotd-bigbang winter word prompts challenge - Fire | Furs | Forest

Dividers by @saradika | AO3 link

The setting sun cast long shadows across the small city of tents that made up the hunting camp in the Kingswood. While the men had spent the day combing the forest for boars, stags, and other game, the women had occupied the main tent. They gorged themselves on cakes and other sweets, all the while indulging in gossip that ranged from the salacious to the downright treasonous.

And, much to the chagrin of the new wife of Prince Aemond Targaryen, they pestered her endlessly about the burgeoning love life of her and her husband. She quickly learned that, to be a woman in the king’s court meant sharing every last, excruciating detail of one’s “wifely duties” so that the others could compare them with their own. So that they could all know whose husbands fucked them the best and complain about their own lackluster experiences.

They questioned her until she was beet-red in the face and one of the older women finally called for an end to her torment. Still, it would taste a lie for her to say that all their titillating conversation about lovemaking had not made her ache desperately for her husband.

But by the time that night finally claimed the sprawling camp, the men had still not returned from the hunt. It signaled to the waiting wives that their husbands would come back without their prize, frustrated and exhausted - and that they would later fall into their beds reeking of wine.

The call of horns and the distant sound of barking hounds was their cue to don their furs and exit the tent to greet the arriving men. The prince’s wife was glad for the fur-lined cloak that her husband had procured for her for just such an occasion as this. She was even more grateful for the garment as she exited the tent only to be met with the sting of the cold night air on her cheek. The women elected to wait for their husbands by the bonfire that raged in the middle of the camp, its light their only source of warmth as frost began to settle on the Kingswood.

It was easy for her to spot her husband among the group of riders, his long silver hair unmistakable in the light of the rising moon. Whatever otherworldly quality his Valyrian features gave him seemed amplified tonight - and it made the sight of him astride a horse even more odd to her. Were her husband any other lord of the realm, his approach on horseback would not have seemed out of place. But Targaryens were no horse riders. Still, Aemond effortlessly commanded the steed beneath him, his mastery reminiscent of the way he would handle a dragon.

As the crowd of riders began to disperse, her eyes remained fixed on her husband. Amid the thundering of horses’ hooves and the raucous laughter of the noble lords, Aemond's attention, too, was solely focused on her. The intensity of his gaze only intensified her excitement, eliciting a gentle flutter in her belly.

With grace and ease, Aemond slipped off of the horse’s back. A waiting servant took his leather riding gloves from him, but Aemond could very well have let them fall to the dirt for as little attention as he paid to anyone but her.

Aemond was always loath to indulge in any public affection, aside from the occasional hand at the small of his wife’s back or a brief touch upon her cheek. Even now that he was reunited with her after such a long day apart, his restraint came in the form of a soft kiss brushed against her temple and nothing more. But the way that his arm wrapped around her and his hand dared to wander much lower than her waist - and the way his eye held hers so intently - told her just how much he had missed her. How much he needed her.

Given Aemond’s usually stoic demeanor, she had never thought that he would be needy, but he had proven to be just that in the few weeks since they had been wed. They had already made love in the depths of the palace library more times than she could count, and discovered countless other hidden places throughout the Keep where his hands had found their way up her skirts and his lips had left marks on her neck. Some mornings, he would forego training altogether to stay in bed with her with his face between her legs or his cock buried inside her.

And he had not heard a single complaint from her yet.

“Ābrazȳrys, your skin is cold to the touch,” Aemond commented, a hint of concern lacing his soft voice. His lips lingered at her temple for a moment longer before he withdrew, taking one of her hands in his. “As are your fingers.” (wife)

She smiled. His own hand was as warm as ever. “I am no dragon like you, dear husband. The cold night air chills me to the bone.”

“And the furs I gave you do not suffice?” he asked, quirking a brow.

She shook her head. “Nor the bonfire.”

Aemond hummed, his displeasure at such an assurance quite clear. He brought her fingers to his lips, blowing warm air on them before kissing them. “Come, jorrāeliarza. I have another idea for how we might offer you some warmth on such a cold night.” (beloved)

Still with an arm drawn around her, he swiftly guided her around the bonfire and, to her surprise, past the royal tent where food, wine, and music awaited them. She glanced over her shoulder questioningly at the entrance to the tent, from which poured an inviting golden light, but Aemond seemed determined on his path.

“Aemond, are we… not going inside?”

A smirk tugged at his lips, and she noticed a mischievous twinkle in his eye as they passed a flickering torch. “I thought I would spare you any further conversation with the ladies of the court.”

“And I thank you for that, dear husband,” she said with a laugh, her words falling from her lips in fleeting clouds of mist that looked like she was breathing smoke. “But I do not think–”

Aemond stopped them in their tracks and turned to her, staying any further words by sweeping in to press his lips firmly against hers. “Lykirī.” (Be calm.)

Once freed from his bruising kiss, she stood, dazed, for a moment before any further thoughts could come to her - something that her husband had certainly noticed given the grin that spread across his lips. She pushed him away playfully with a little scoff and an over-exaggerated look of annoyance that drew a rare chuckle from him.

“I am not one of your Targaryen dragons,” she protested, drawing her furs tighter around herself. “Those… dragon commands won’t work on me.”

Aemond leaned in to meet her at eye level, offering an arm to her that she took. “But it did work, did it not?”

She was still none the wiser about their destination as her husband quickly guided them beyond the boundaries of the camp and toward the treeline. The leaves had taken on stunning hues of red, orange, and yellow, a sight that she had marveled at from within the wheelhouse on their way into the Kingswood that morning. But in the cover of night, that beauty was lost to the pitch-black darkness. Not even the light of the moon could permeate the thick canopy of trees, leaving the forest an endless void.

She did not fear the darkness, only the occasional sound of a twig snapping or the call of some unknown creature. As husband and wife disappeared from the sight of the camp, she found herself clutching onto him more tightly.

“Aemond, where are we going?” she whispered as though speaking at full volume would topple one of the mighty trees.

“Patience, jorrāeliarza.”

“What if there are wolves out here, Aemond–”

“There are no predators in the Kingswood. And, if there were,” Aemond turned to her and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, brushing the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip, “do you think that I would let them harm even a single hair on your head?” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before releasing her. “Do not worry. We can stop here.”

She glanced around, seeing the pleasant glow of the camp in the near distance and nothing but darkness everywhere else. “Here?”

“I thought, perhaps, you would want to be a bit further from camp…” he purred. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to see him lean in. One of his hands reached up to pull her furs aside and his lips found her neck, warm and soft as they began to kiss her skin. She felt his hum vibrate against her pulse point, where her heartbeat fluttered wildly. “Given how loud you can be, dōna ābrazȳrys.”

A gasp left her and her head tilted away from his lips, begging silently for more. Tomorrow would call for yet another dress with a high neckline, she thought.

“I’ve… I’ve not heard that one before…” He regularly called her all manner of names in High Valyrian. She often found him muttering to himself in his ancestral tongue. One night, he had even spoken it in his sleep. She knew a small handful of words, but only those few. “What does that mean?”

“Sweet wife,” Aemond breathed against her neck, leaving a bit of warmth behind before his lips captured hers once again. “You taste sweet tonight, too.”

“It must be the… the wine, I think,” she gasped. “Or the lemon cakes…”

But the growing hunger inside him was not for the sweetness of cakes or Arbor gold.

He kissed her more deeply this time, lips coaxing hers apart to taste her tongue for himself. His hands fell to her hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh to draw her body against his. And, in doing so, he finally offered her the warmth he had previously promised her - one that not even the hottest bonfire could provide.

As his fingers began to deftly ruck up her skirts, she felt her skin prickle. At the same time, an entirely different kind of heat began to spread through her until it found its familiar place between her legs. Moaning softly into their continued kiss, she dropped her hands to the closure of his trousers, where his obvious arousal strained against the dark fabric.

“Gods, Aemond, you're so hard and I've barely touched you," she breathed against his lips. “Did you miss me?” But she knew the answer, and how pleasing it was to know just how badly she had been missed that day.

His only reply was a grunt that rose in his throat as his hands slipped beneath her smallclothes and all but tore them from her. Despite the rough, calloused spots on his palms and fingers, his warm touch was a balm against the cold night air. In a swift, almost aggressive motion, he lifted her by her arse so that she had no choice but to envelop his hips with her legs. It taunted her, the feeling of his hard cock pressing against her wet entrance. His trousers were a tedious, unwanted barrier between them.

Their passionate embrace only became more heated as Aemond pinned her to the trunk of one of the trees and his body pressed firmly against hers. She squirmed, inadvertently causing friction between her clit and his still-clothed hardness that was too delicious to keep a moan from stuttering past her lips.

“It would seem that you missed me as well, jorrāeliarza,” he rasped with a playful smirk. Teasingly, he rolled his hips against hers to coax another one of those sweet sounds from her. “Come on. Take what you need.”

She needed no further convincing, as great as the ache between her legs had grown. Her grip on the collar of his longcoat tightened and she took over, rocking her hips against his at a slow, but steady, pace. Each gasp and moan that left her lips billowed from them in a smoke-like mist, until she tucked her head into the crook of her husband’s neck and the sounds became muffled against his throat. He smelled of horse and sweat and, if she searched for it, the soap he had used the night before. But he tasted divine as her lips began to pepper open-mouthed kisses against his skin.

Judging by the trembling breaths that she felt against her hair, this teasing was just as pleasurable for her husband as it was for her. His own grip on her arse tightened, as though he was fighting to hold on. Knowing him, he wanted only the satisfaction of spilling himself inside her.

But his own torture would not go on for much longer, as her rutting against him was quickly bringing her to the brink of release. Her pace quickened, desperate as she was to reach it. Finally, the pleasure inside her began to unfurl and its warmth spread through her. From head to toe, it enveloped her completely as though she had been submerged into a hot bath.

It was exactly as Aemond had promised. In the grips of her climax, the frigid air mattered little, if at all.

Gasping for breath as she came down again, she pressed her lips to his and he received her kiss greedily. No doubt he was desperate for his own release after watching her come apart - and how could she refuse him?

“You know,” she began as her hands fell to his trousers once again. Only, this time, her fingers made quick work of the closures. “Earlier, all the women wanted to know how good you are in bed.”

Their gazes locked and, even in the darkness of the forest, she could see the almost animalistic desire in his one good eye. But as desperate as he was to be inside her, he seemed almost equally as intrigued by her words. She freed his cock from the confines of his trousers and took it into her hand. Her simple act of stroking him once was enough to draw a low groan out of him.

“Fucking gossips,” Aemond replied huskily. His lips drew close to hers but did not quite meet them. “Do I wish to know what you told them?”

She grinned. Her fingers guided his cock to her slick entrance but stopped there momentarily. “I told them–” Her words were cut off by a moan as he buried himself inside her quickly and without warning. “Oh, fuck…”

“Oh, fuck?” Aemond repeated teasingly, raising a brow. “Am I so bad at it, jorrāeliarza?” The smug look of satisfaction on his face belied any attempts at fooling her into thinking that he believed that to be her true confession earlier that day.

Too impatient, he began to move his hips against hers - and she met each of his slow, steady thrusts with movements of her own. Misty air surrounded them amid their shared panting, both of them relishing in the sensation of becoming one again after such a long day apart.

She allowed her head to fall back against the tree, where strands of her hair began to tangle in its rough bark. But she hardly noticed or cared at all, especially as her husband’s lips reclaimed her neck and his hot breaths swept along the contours of her jaw.

“Ābrazȳrys.”

She became so lost in the carnal pleasure of his cock sliding in and out of her that Aemond’s voice barely reached her. It did not help at all that his pace began to quicken as the heat between them grew to a simmer. The cry of pleasure that left her mingled with the sounds of the forest, joining the nighttime symphony of hooting owls and the rustling of the crisp underbrush.

“What did you tell them?” Aemond pressed. His own composure was starting to fail him and his words came out strained.

A breathy laugh left her. He always purported to care little about what the members of his father’s court thought of him. But, evidently, that sentiment did not extend to his wife and her opinions.

She placed a hand on his cheek to pull his lips to hers, kissing him deeply as pleasure began to coil inside her anew. “I told them,” she panted, her eyes opening to meet his, “that my husband is not the one riding the largest dragon in the world.”

Whatever Aemond had expected her to say, it clearly was not that. For a moment, his hips stilled and he looked as stunned as the ladies had been when she had uttered those same words that morning. One of them had even spilled a full cup of wine down her pale blue dress as she stared at her like some startled animal.

“My, my…” he purred.

But his look of shock fell away just as quickly. Replacing it was a ferocity that she had never seen from him before. A hunger that her words had awakened inside him which only she could satiate. There were no more soft words of love, or the usual names he called her while making love to her. His fingers dug almost painfully into her hips and he resumed his movements against her.

Aemond quickly built up a brutal pace, the head of his cock hitting that spot inside her that made her toes curl inside her shoes. Any thoughts or complaints about how bitterly cold it was outside had been long forgotten, drunk as she was on the intensity of the pleasure he was fucking into her her. Even her moans began to leave her in choked gasps and broken mewls that, if anyone in the hunting camp heard her, would have sounded no different than the calls of some creature of the forest.

She could feel it, the straining of her muscles and the tightening of her insides. The tremble that overtook her as she hurtled toward the edge along with him. She felt like a handkerchief being squeezed of water, and he would not stop his tightening of her until he had wrung her of every last drop.

Her eyes fluttering, she leaned in to capture Aemond’s lips in a kiss that he did not reciprocate in his own carnal pursuit of release. “Aemond…” “Mm-mm,” he chided, his tone gruffer and far lower than she had ever heard it. “I want to see you.”

One of his hands released its grip on her arse and moved to the nape of her neck to hold her firmly and ensure she could not look away. As he watched her, he groaned deeply in his own fight to hold on until he could get precisely what he wanted.

And it only took three simple words from him to finish her at last.

“Cum for me.”

Like a dam breaking, all the building pleasure that had been twisting inside her released. Coaxed by the continued pounding of his hips against hers, it spread into every extremity as her body shuddered and her cries of ecstasy filled the dense, frosty air. The fluttering of her walls around him soon spelled the end for him, too. With a few more ragged thrusts, he found his release inside her.

His eye squeezed shut. His lips, kiss-swollen, parted. And then, a certain look of peace overtook him.

Although still lost in her own haze of pleasure, she watched him closely - and she decided that he had never looked more beautiful.

They remained in their loving embrace, neither one wanting to pull away from the other just yet. Her, with her legs still encircling his hips, and him, with one hand holding her up and the other at her neck. Aemond pressed his forehead to hers and his thumb began to caress her cheek tenderly.

She hadn’t spoken of these moments to the women of the court that day. About how her husband could fuck her within an inch of her life and, immediately thereafter, treat her with such affection and softness. With such devotion in each caress of his fingers and every soft word he uttered.

Their breathing soon began to slow once again and the world around them finally came back into view. Smiling, she brushed the tip of her nose against his before kissing him so deeply that he hummed in surprise. But he reciprocated earnestly, slowly setting her back down on the ground but never quite letting her go.

“We should return to the camp,” Aemond said as he re-adjusted her furs on her shoulders. “I would not have you catch your death out here in the cold, jorrāeliarza.”

A sweet grin spread across her lips, but something wicked glistened in her eyes. “Oh, but my husband has already given me all the warmth I require.”

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suburbanswirl · 27 days ago

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Takara Shine croc leggings by Carbon 38, faux leather mock neck top by SolyHux, fingerless leather opera gloves by RZ Bohemia, and leather over the knee boots by Frye.

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itgetsdark-x · 9 months ago

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Something In Your Mouth

Summary: what’s a little night out if not for a bit of teasing fun with your dad’s best-friend?

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, mentions of alcohol, age gap (Joel’s age unspecified), oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v (do better!!), edging, orgasm denial, forced orgasm (kinda), use of good girl etc, mild humiliation / degrading. idk i feel a lil unhinged with this one besties.

Characters: dbf!joel miller x (f) reader

Word Count: 5.3k

You pressed your glossy lips together to ensure that the hot pink covered every area of your pout and you smiled at your friend in the reflection of your bedroom mirror.

“Girl, I’m telling you… Tonight is the night that I finally fuck Joel Miller.” You smirked, taking the bottle from your friend, Sasha’s hands and taking a long swig of the warming liquor.

“Ha! Yeah right… Are we on about the same Joel Miller here? Your dad’s friend, the single father himself and what’s that? Oh yeah, he’s ancient, old enough to be your own dad! He won’t touch you, jailbait, give up.” She laughed again as your flipped her off.

“Sash, I am in my mid-twenties, closer to thirty than I am twenty. Not to mention, I’m hot okay?! There are worse women Joel could sleep with. I’m just saying… I think it’s a good idea. I just get big dick energy from him y’know? I mean, have you seen his hands?! His fingers. I actually feel like if I don’t have him soon, I’m gonna go legally insane.” You huffed.

Sasha shook her head as you stood from your bed to get changed. You flung your comfy t-shirt and shorts into your friend’s direction and grabbed the outfit you had hung on your door. Tonight’s attire was an ensemble of a black leather skirt, hot pink tank top and your trusty platform Doc Marten boots.

“Be fucking real right now, that is not your underwear of choice for the evening!” Sasha all but screeched as she caught a glimpse of your undergarments as you began changing your outfit.

“What?!” You asked with feign innocence.

“You’re wearing a hot pink thong with matching bra. Please tell me this is not for Miller.” She sighed with exasperation, pinching at the bridge of her nose.

“Maybe it is… but hey, if Joel doesn’t want some tonight I’m sure some other lucky guy will appreciate the efforts I have gone to.” You shrugged, winking at your friend. “Now, how ‘bout you quit your judging and get changed so we can get to the bar! The girls are meeting us there.”

Sasha groaned with effort as she stood and joined you in getting changed.

———

The bar was busy, you were meeting your friends there to celebrate your upcoming birthday which meant your father was going to be there and in turn, so was Joel. You weren’t a complete idiot, you knew that trying to get with Joel was a huge risk for you both; if your father ever found out, you would most likely be forbidden to ever leave your apartment ever again and well, you couldn’t even imagine what your dad would do to Joel.

Which also meant you had to be calculated with how you went about it; no blatant flirting or teasing in front of your dad, you had to play your cards right, keep them close to your chest.

As soon as you and Sasha arrived into the dimly lit bar, your friends herded over to you and enveloped you in a big hug. You squealed with delight and greeted them all individually before your dad walked over, with the older Miller in tow close behind.

“There’s my princess, happy early birthday, sweetheart.” Your dad beamed, hugging you and kissing your temple.

“Thanks dad, and thanks for actually showing up! I know hanging out with us girls isn’t at the top of your Friday night agenda. Same for you Joel, thanks for coming.” You smiled bashfully at him before he closed the space between you both and gave you a quick squeeze.

Your head span and you could feel your heart threatening to beat right out of your chest, his heady cologne drowning your senses and driving you mad. It was an immediate effect and you couldn’t stop the way your core throbbed at the contact.

“Gotcha a drink darlin’. Happy early birthday.” He flashed a smile in your direction and gave you a glass filled with amber-coloured liquid. “Yes, it’s our favourite. Southern Comfort and lemonade.”

You grinned at him and took a swig of the drink gratefully, just as you turned to talk to your father again, you were almost certain you could feel Joel’s eyes raking over your body with hunger.

———

As the night wore on, the drinks flowed and the laughter grew rowdier and louder as the music in the bar was turned up. You were dancing with a couple of your friends, every now and then your eyes would catch Joel’s; he sat at the bar talking to your dad and nursing his whiskey.

“Sash, did you see the way he keeps looking at me? And earlier? Please tell me you saw that!” You whined.

“Ugh. God. I hate to feed your delusions but I did see it and I see it now. Even with your back turned, he’s watching you. Fuckin’ weird and intense, it’s like a predator with his prey. Waiting to strike.” She huffed, voice just loud enough for you to catch over the pop music playing.

“Okay… But why is that hot as fuck?” You laughed, throwing your head back as your danced. “I just need my dad to clear off, I love him but I can’t hit on his friend when he right there. That would be weird.”

You carried on dancing, with your friends and even with a couple of men when they tried it; you couldn’t help but notice the way Joel’s stare seemed to intensify when any man came near you, it made you smile to know that he was watching you.

One particular man caught your attention, he was similar to you in age, as far as you assumed and he was handsome, definitely easy on the eyes but nowhere near anywhere as good as Joel. He smirked at you from the bar and closed the distance between you until his hand was on your hip and he was dancing with you. You smiled sweetly at him, peering up at him through your lashes as you brought your thumb up to your glossy lips to suck on it seductively. You flashed a glance over to Joel who looked like he was ready to kill.

Bingo. You thought to yourself and danced with the handsome male in front of you, the music boomed and you swayed your hips against him, you span yourself around so you could press your ass to his crotch and you smirked over at Joel once again who was now alone at the bar. Your fingers clutched your glass as you wrapped your lips around the thin, red straw and sucked up the cool drink.

Joel quirked a brow at you, with a look that you couldn’t quite place, it seemed to settle somewhere between lust and utter disdain for you. You gave him a little wave and turned back to face the man you were dancing with, you looped your arms loosely around his neck and continued to dance along to the loud music.

The nameless man leant down and whispered into your ear, the music distorted his voice but he said something about leaving with him which caused you to giggle. You got up onto your tiptoes to whisper back into his ear but felt a foreign hand pressed against the small of your back. The guy you were just dancing with backed away with his hands held up in innocence.

“Hey!” You turned around with a deep frown. “Oh… hey, Joel.” You smiled.

“Your daddy left a little while ago, he saw you dancing and didn’t want to… disturb since you seemed busy…” He scoffed.

“Well I was a lil busy, and now he’s gone. Whatcha want?” You huffed.

“Don’t fuck around, little girl. We both know what you’re playin’ at.”

“What?!” You asked with feigned innocence.

“Darlin’” he warned lowly in your ear, his voice sending shivers through you. “You’re out here, shakin’ your ass for everyone.”

“And? Last time I checked, I’m single, of age and having a bit of fun. Is that not allowed, Mr Miller? Not even on my birthday?” You asked sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him.

Joel scoffed and rolled his eyes at you, this fake-innocence crap wasn’t getting anywhere with him and he knew you were doing it to get a reaction from him.

“You’re being a little tease, darlin’ and I think you know it.” He growled, his voice low in your ear.

You swallowed roughly, even with the drinks you had, your mouth suddenly felt impossibly dry with nerves. You shook your head to Joel and he just chuckled.

“No, no… You know what you’re doing, I know you’ve been trying to get my attention all night and well, congrats. You’ve got my attention. So what now? What do you want, hm?” He asked, leaning back to gauge your reaction.

“I — I, I want -“ You stumbled over your words dumbly, without a coherent sentence forming.

“Hm?” He hummed, he took your hand and trailed it down his hard chest, down his stomach and let it graze across his crotch.

Even with barely touching him, you could feel the hard length of his cock through the rough material of his worn jeans. You pushed your legs together in the vain hope of staving off the throbbing between them, you could feel your panties get slick as you imagined sinking to your knees and sucking Joel.

“Funny, you seemed to be playing the big girl earlier, princess. Dancing with anyone, swinging your ass and hips for them. What’s the matter? Cat gotcha tongue now?” He smirked, his voice a soft coo in your ear.

“I want you to fuck me.” You blurted out, unceremoniously and immediately, your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I mean, I uh — ignore me. I’m gonna go find my friends.” You muttered.

Joel shook his head and held onto your elbow roughly. “Come home with me then, darlin’. My truck is parked out back.”

“You’ve been drinking, I’ve had some drinks. One, I don’t wanna die in your rust-bucket truck and two, this is stupid. I’m being stupid.” You spoke quickly.

“Firstly, I’m gonna ignore you just called my truck a rust-bucket, that’s a whole other conversation and two, I’ve had two drinks, perfectly fine to drive. And as long as you’re sober enough to consent, and you do wanna do this. I think it’s a wonderful idea. Maybe just don’t tell your daddy.” He laughed.

You nodded dumbly, words failing you once again and let yourself be led out of the bar by Joel; you briefly shot a look behind you and for a second, you caught eyes with Sasha who just smirked at you as you left.

—

Joel opened the truck door for you to climb in, you grabbed the handle on the side and hauled yourself in; knowing your skirt would rise and give Joel a quick glimpse of your skimpy fabric.

Joel had to all but bite back a groan as he saw the flash hot pink, the curve of your ass just enveloping the lace as you sat down.

“Fucking hell.” He cursed as he closed the door to his truck and went to the drivers side. “You really are a naughty little tease, aren’t you?” He laughed.

You shrugged at him with a sheepish smile; in truth you weren’t always this bad but tonight it got you exactly what you wanted and you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Joel started his truck and within seconds of driving down the road, you reached your hand across the bench to palm at his cock; your delicate fingers wrapped around his half hard length through his jeans and you couldn’t help but shiver in anticipation.

He felt thick, even when only half hard and your mouth watered at the thought of his thick cock hitting the back of your throat.

“Impatient much?” Joel laughed, flashing a quick smirk in your direction.

“I need to taste you, like, immediately.” You hummed, you knew it sounded cringey and cliche but you needed it more than you could comprehend.

“Maybe let’s wait until we are back at mine — fuck —.” Joel cursed as your fingers quickly undid his jeans and dipped into the waistband of his boxers, albeit a little awkwardly.

“I’m sat here, and I’m wet. I’m talking, on the verge of dripping onto my thighs. I want you. In a way I’ve never wanted a man before so… how about you let me get you warmed up so when we get back to yours, you can have your way with me.” You reasoned, your voice blunt.

Joel couldn’t argue with that reasoning so he gently lifted his ass off the seat to allow you easier access to pull his thick cock out from his boxers. Your fingers expertly wrapped around his length and you marvelled at the fact your finger tips barely met. You stroked his shaft a few times as you felt him fully harden under your touch.

You couldn’t help but giggle; it was immature and girlish but in this moment, you felt giddy. You awkwardly repositioned yourself so you could duck your head down and suck the tip of his cock into your wet mouth.

Joel’s fingers tensed on his steering wheel, you could hear the squeak of the leather protest under his grasp as you wrapped your mouth around the male fully and sank your head down, enveloping him further.

You kept a hand wrapped around the base of his cock and bobbed your head slowly, a soft moan being muffled by the fullness in your mouth.

Above you, Joel groaned deeply as your tongue swirled around the tip and you grazed your teeth gently against his frenulum.

“Oh fuck!” Joel cursed out, one hand coming down to grip into your hair tightly; he couldn’t help the way his hand pushed your head down further. “You look so good with my cock in your mouth. Fuck.” He praised, brushing some hair away so he could catch a better glimpse of the sight below him.

You hummed in appreciation as you bobbed your head, your hand moving in perfect synchronicity with your skilled mouth. You removed Joel’s cock with a loud pop and you smirked at the male. You moved to kiss at his neck and your teeth grazed over his ear.

“Tastes better than any sucker I’ve ever had.” You purred, your voice low and sultry.

“You’re trouble.” Joel stated with a soft groan as your lips continued to kiss down his neck and your head travelled down south once more. “But you look so much cuter with something in your mouth, that’s its princess.” He cooed as your mouth sank around his cock once more.

The drive back to Joel’s was a short one, even if he did contemplate driving around the block a couple more times just so he could feel your mouth around him for longer.

Joel pulled into his drive, by this point you were sat up right and running a thumb along your bottom lip to tidy up your lip gloss. Joel tucked himself back into his jeans haphazardly before turning off the ignition to his truck.

“Inside, quickly. I don’t need the neighbours seeing me bringing you home. You know how rumours spread ‘round here.” He mumbled and it was true, most people knew Joel and they in turn, knew your father. You could almost heard the whispers that would spread around this part of town if they caught wind of what you were doing with Joel.

You hopped out his truck and walked to his front door ahead of him, making sure to keep a clear distance from the older male; no matter how hard your fingers were itching to explore his body.

Joel held onto the small of your back as he quickly unlocked his front door and ushered you into the familiar space.

“Upstairs. You know where my room is.” He stated bluntly as he removed his boots.

You nodded without another word and silently went up the stairs; you may have been playing the confident card in the truck but now that you were here, now that you were in his house, your hands were shaking with nerves and anticipation.

Joel entered the room a mere few seconds later and he smiled at you.

“So you’re not that much of a little brat that you can follow basic instructions.” He cooed.

You nodded, biting on your lip as you watched Joel effortlessly remove his t-shirt. Just as you pictured it; his chest was tanned and peppered with soft white hair. Further down his stomach as a groomed line of dark hair that disappeared under his waistband.

“What’s the matter, little girl? Not so brave now?” He smirked, closing the distance between you to hold your chin roughly between his finger and thumb.

He ducked his head down and kissed you roughly; it was an unceremonious clash of tongues as you kissed him back with intense fervour.

“That’s what I thought.” He whispered against your lips and let go of your face. “Take off your clothes. Leave on your underwear, I wanna be the one to remove that from you.” He commanded, kicking off his own jeans and sitting on the edge of his bed.

You suddenly felt self conscious, you could feel the burn of his gaze as you stood in front of him. You turned your back to him as you slowly undid the zip on your skirt and bent down to remove it.

Behind you, Joel had pulled his cock from his boxers and was stroking himself as you removed your clothes. Once your shirt was removed, you span back round to face the male and gently crossed your legs as you watched him.

“Fucking look at you.” He groaned, as his cock gently fucked into his fist. “Thought about your body so many times, knew I shouldn’t. Knew it was wrong but look at you, c’mhere.” He mumbled.

You felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment at his confession; it soothed your nerves as you realised the attraction was mutual between you both. Joel sat back a little and tapped his lap; you got the idea quickly and straddled him.

You cock feel his swollen cock rub against your clothes heat and you whined weakly at the contact.

“Please don’t tease me.” You whispered, looping your arms around his neck as Joel’s hands settled onto your soft hips.

“‘M not gonna tease you…” he smirked, his eyes lit with mischievous intent. “But I bet you could cum just from rubbing yourself on my cock. Since you seemed to want it so bad at the bar, trying to get my attention. Well guess what, little girl, you got it. Now keep it.” He hummed.

“Joel —“ you protested, to which he raised a brow at you in question.

You pushed your hips forward so the tip of Joel’s cock nudged your damp panties, it nudged your clit and you gasp as you began to rut your hips back and forth.

“Such a needy little girl, aren’t you? So needy for your daddy’s best friend that you’ll rub against his cock like a good little bitch.” He cooed, holding your cheek tenderly as his condescending words fuelled your hips to move faster.

“Not enough.” You whimpered, your hands scratching at Joel’s back for more leverage. “Need you in me, please. I need to feel your fingers inside of me.”

Joel smirked and pressed two digits into your mouth without warning; you quickly sucked them in, your tongue swirled around them until they were coated with your saliva.

“Is that what you mean, princess? My fingers are inside of you.”

You shook your head no as your hips moved desperately, the hot pink fabric of your lace thong was ruined; it was dark in colour as your arousal soaked the fabric.

“Then what is it you mean? Tell me what you want.” Joel said quietly, removing his fingers from your mouth. A long ling of spittle keeping you connected to the older male.

“Need your fingers in my pussy; need to feel them inside of me as I cum. P-please.” You whined, your voice sounded wrecked already as your hips stuttered against Joel’s cock.

Joel dipped his fingers into the front of your lace panties, they were slick from your spit and they glided through your wetness with ease.

He let out a moan as he felt your wetness soak his fingers further; his fingers circled around your clit with skill and your mouth fell agape with intense pleasure.

You screwed your eyes shut as his fingers sped up to rub over your clit.

“Oh that’s it, good girl. So wet for me, aren’t you? This all for me?” He hummed.

You nodded, as your back arched away from the man so he could gain better access to your front. Joel continued to speed his fingers up; he watched your every movement; every heave of your chest, every gasp or twitch of your arm and he knew you were getting close.

“Tell me when you’re going to cum.” Joel whispered, dropping his head down to kiss at your bra-clad chest.

“I’m close, Joel. So fucking close.” You whimpered, you were barely making a noise.

“That’s it, atta a girl.” Joel praised.

“I — I’m gonna, I’m gonna, fuck!” You screeched, the raw noise ripping from your throat as Joel removed his fingers from your panties at precisely the wrong moment.

He smirked at you, his mannerism teasing and cruel.

“What the fuck?” You squeaked, your eyes wide and your chest still heaving.

“Well I didn’t say you were going to cum, did I?” Joel stated.

“Please.” You pleaded, your eyes searching for mercy in him.

“Lay down on the bed for me.” Joel whispered, tapping your ass gently.

You felt dumb, your body was tingling all over from the overstimulation and lack of orgasm and you moved without knowing how you were doing it. You laid down onto Joel’s bed, your back resting up against his pillows.

It took everything in you to not turn your head into the soft pillows, breathe in his scent and fuck yourself right there. You felt like a horny teenager who couldn’t ever satisfy themself.

Joel fully kicked off his boxers and knelt beside you, he motioned his finger in an upwards movement and you sat up for him. Quickly, he removed your bra and your chest gently fell from the hot pink fabric. He gently pushed you back onto the bed and then worked to remove your panties, they too were discarded with the rest of your clothes on the floor.

“Now, where were we?” Joel smirked before he trailed his fingers back between your legs.

Instinctively, you spread them for him as he worked over your clit again; within seconds, the pressure was there once again and you tightly gripped at the sheets below you.

“Joel —“ you whined. “Please. Please, I am begging you, please let me cum.”

“Now where’s the fun in that, little girl?” He murmured menacingly.

You closed your eyes and willed yourself to not burst into tears there and then; the pleasure you were feeling was intense, Joel’s fingers moved expertly to bring you close to your orgasm and then there was the humiliation of him denying you the thing you wanted most.

Joel was watching you intensely, he was picking up on every little micro movement your body made or didn’t make, he was calculating when to stop his movements or when to speed them up. Bringing you right up to the edge, almost letting you peer over it but then pulling you right back again; never quite letting you topple into ecstasy.

He had done this three or four times now and the noises that left your body no longer sounded like your own; they were wrecked sobs of desperation as your arousal coated your thighs and left a wet spot behind in your wake. You could barely remember your own name or where you were anymore; Joel had messed with your mind.

“Please.” You pleaded to Joel, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Please let me cum, I can’t — I can’t take anymore.” Your eyes were glassy with tears at the intensity of Joel’s actions and your own frustration as you experienced another ruined orgasm.

You knew if you really wanted this to stop, you could stand up, get dressed and walk away but you didn’t want that. Joel Miller had rotted your brain and you were fixated under him, completely at his will.

Joel smirked at you again, that same look he kept giving you; it was smug, it was infuriating and it turned you on even more.

“Look at you, princess. You’re a mess.” He whispered, his spare hand brushing a strand of hair away from your features. “So wet and messy for me, hm? Are you sure you can even cum now? Do you know what to do?”

You nodded eagerly at the older male, your eyes pleading silently as your mouth was hung open in constant pleasure.

Joel didn’t say a word, instead he sunk two fingers into your hole without warning; his thumb circled your clit with intense pressure. It was like a million sparks erupted throughout your body; your back arched off the bed, your thighs fell open even further and your walls clenched around Joel tightly.

You could feel yourself flutter and pulsate around the man’s digits as you came. Your eyes were screwed shut and your mouth was open, not a single sound fell from your parted lips apart from the start of a strangled moan. The pleasure, the pure ecstasy, was too intense for you to make a single sound.

Joel pumped his fingers quickly, watching as you came on them.

“That’s it, fuck. So good. Give me another one.” He growled, his arm shaking as he pumped his fingers even faster inside of you; his thumb pass over your clit with each thrust of his digits.

You honestly didn’t know if you could give him another; your body was shaking as you laid there and took what Joel was giving to you. It was intense and never before had you had such a strong orgasm; there were still white flecks dancing around in your vision as your body built up to another orgasm.

Your fingers were clawing at Joel’s arm and you were sure that you had broken his skin as you came on his fingers; there was no telling what would happen when he ripped another orgasm from you.

“Be a good girl and then I’ll give you my cock, come on, princess. I know you can give me another one. I know you’re good enough for that.” He whispered. “Look at what you’re doing to me, baby girl. Look at my cock, it’s leaking for you. So good.”

You peered between your bodies and saw the head of Joel’s cock, it was flushed and there was a dribble of precum falling from the tip and collecting onto the sheets below.

“Ki-kiss me.” You managed to squeak out, your voice shaking as you looked at the older male.

He smiled and happily obliged, your lips met in a sloppy kiss as you felt your body shake more intensely. The tight coil in the pit of your stomach snapped once more and another intense orgasm rippled through you like a shockwave.

“Good. Good girl.” Joel praised against your lips as he worked you through your orgasm.

He pulled his fingers from your hole and rubbed them speedily across your clit, you let out a yelp at the overstimulation and gripped Joel’s arm tightly for leverage.

“I’m gonna —“ you managed to call out before he felt yourself gush onto the sheets below you.

“Oh fuck.” Joel moaned, his cock jumping with arousal as you squirted onto his hand.

“I’m so, fuck —“ you breathed shakily and held yourself up onto your elbows, tears staining your cheeks from the intense pleasure. “Joel, I’m so sorry. Fuck, let me clean up. Fuck.” You cursed, your body shaking as you went to sit up.

Joel chuckled and gently pushed your shoulder back onto the bed with a shake of his head.

“So sexy. Have you ever squirted before?” He asked, finally removing his hand from your throbbing pussy.

You shook your head and he just grinned at you boyishly.

“That’s even hotter, how did it feel, princess? Did you like it?” He asked softly, his fingers tracing soft patterns across your tummy.

You blushed at his words and gently cleared your throat. “I did like it, I didn’t… well I didn’t know I could actually cum that hard. It was intense but amazing.” You said softly, looking up at Joel through your lashes.

“I’m glad.” He smiled. “Look, we don’t have to — well, y’know, we don’t have to have sex. If you’re too stimulated or whatever. I can sort myself out.”

You quickly shook your head and pulled him closer to your naked body.

“No!” You said quickly. “I mean, I am a little over stimulated right now but please, I need to feel your cock in me.”

Joel didn’t need to be told twice and he roughly flipped your body over so your face was against the bed. You gasped under the male, surprised by his strength. Behind yourself, you could feel Joel moving, positioning himself so his cock was nudging against your entrance.

He thrust forward, filling you once again; you were all-consumed with just Joel. The heady scent of him lingered on the bellows below your face, you cunt ached with lingering pleasure of your orgasms and now, you could feel his large hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucked into you with fervour.

“That’s it, sweet girl, taking me so well. So good.” Joel mewled, the praise sending heat through your body once more.

Your fingers clung to the soft fabric of the sheets below you, and you couldn’t help the soft moans that escaped your lips as Joel fucked you.

“So good. F-faster.” You whimpered.

Joel obliged, he sped his hips up and dug his fingers into your hips so hard you felt as if you were going to have bruises there for days.

Joel’s hips began to stutter, his groans grew deeper and you clenched around him, trying to bring him closer to filling you.

“Such. A. Good. Little. Girl.” Joel groaned, each word accentuated by a deep thrust. “This is my cunt now, got it? Hm. All mine. Fuck, you’re so good for me.”

You nodded under him with a soft moan as he bottomed himself out in you, his cock impossibly deep as you felt it twitch before he coated your insides with his hot cum. You whined at the sensation and felt yourself flutter around his pulsing cock instinctively.

“Shit.” He groaned, giving one final sloppy thrust before we collapsed down onto the bed beside you with his chest heaving deeply.

You followed suit, your body finally giving out from under yourself; you grimaced as your body touched the soaked patch on the bed and you began to feel Joel leak from inside of you.

“‘M a mess but so tired.” You yawned, scrunching your face in disgust.

“Let me clean you up.” Joel whispered, stroking your cheek.

He let out a grunt as he climbed off the bed, his limbs aching from the effort. He scooped your body from the mattress and carried you to the bathroom where he sat you in the bath. He turned the shower on and you hummed as the warm water hit your body, not caring your hair and makeup would be a mess.

Joel climbed behind you and gently rubbed your shoulders as the warm water washed away the messes you both made.

A/N: my requests are open again, I can’t promise I’ll always write them really quickly but please send me any ideas of stuff u wanna read <3 love u all <3

#dbf!joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #dbf!joel #joel x reader #joel miller

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nxuvillette · 1 year ago

Text

“LET’S KEEP THIS HUSH, HUSH.”

CEO SECRET RELATIONSHIP W/ TR MEN

synopsis: messing with the ceo of your rivaling company didn’t seem that hard to let go of.. or did it?

❥- including : ran haitani, sanzu haruchiyo, rindou haitani

❥- note : trying this again! praying it actually works 😭 reblogs are appreciated!!

content warnings: nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, ceo!reader, bonten timeline, all men are ceo’s, mentions of harassment (sanzu), praising, use of pet names (baby , angel , princess), slight breeding kink (ran + rindou), creampie (all), some possessive behavior, mentions of pregnancy (rindou).

♡ RAN HAITANI

you never expected to fall for someone like ran haitani.

he was cunning, attractive, and quite a clever man. he also ran one of the best businesses in all of Roppongi. he attracted all kinds of women by just doing simply nothing, so when he saw you at a club, you didn’t think it would be anything more than a quickie in the bathroom.

that quickie turned into dates, hookups at his apartment, and him taking you out more than you had anticipated.

however, all of that changed when you discovered that ran just wasn’t a ceo for some random company, but it was the same company that rivaled yours. your father had some previous ties to the business and he seemed to have forgotten to mention it to you when you took hold of the reins. you were now worried. as a ceo of your own company, you placed yourself at risk for possibly sabotaging things that your father had worked so hard to create.

but, you just couldn’t help yourself.

your face was smooshed into the leather of ran’s expensive couch. his fingertips danced along your spine while his cock lazily dragged inside of your walls. you had told yourself you weren’t going to see him tonight. you wanted to ignore his text messages, but there was something about his presence that drew you in. he was addictive.

“you’re taking me so well, angel..” he squeezed the plush of your ass, savoring how soft your skin was.

your eyes rolled back from how well ran was fucking you. there was just something about how he did it that made you light on fire. it’s what made you come crawling back to him every single time. “a-ah! ran! yes, right there!” you mewled when the tip kissed that spongy spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure over you.

the older haitani loved how pretty you sounded right now. he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. you were too damn perfect to ever pass up. he didn’t give a single shit if you two were meant to be “rivals.” how was someone like him supposed to never see someone like you? you were one of the only women he genuinely saw himself being comfortable with. he didn’t want to be a secret, but for you, he’d do absolutely anything.

his grip on your hips tightened and his pace suddenly became quicker than it had originally begun. “ran! fuck, fuck, cum inside me!” you cried, turning your head just a little so you could see his handsome face.

he couldn’t stop the smirk he wore from writing itself on his face. god, he had been wanting to do that for so damn long. “ah..? okay, baby, i’ll make sure you’re nice and full when i’m done..” he cooed, pushing you further into the couch.

skin slapped against each other as ran’s pace was practically animalistic. he groaned deeply when he finally met his release. spurts of his cum made its way into your cunt, making you shiver from how it felt. that had been the first time he had ever came inside you, and you honestly craved it a lot. it was so amazing.

he pulled out of you, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “i’ll gladly be your secret, baby, but nobody better touch you other than me..”

♡ SANZU HARUCHIYO

you met sanzu in an odd way one evening. you were on the way home from your long and tiring work day when some random guy kept egging you on. he kept making comments towards you and practically begging for you to give him any ounce of attention.

well, the guy didn’t end up leaving you alone, and he ended up trailing after you in a pretty shitty part of town. you couldn’t lie that you weren’t scared. the sun had already set and that guy was hot on your tail. you could try calling the police but you knew full well that they wouldn’t get there in time to help you, so you tried your best to rush out of there and lose the guy.

unfortunately, he caught up to you and ended up yanking on your arm. you let out a scream and shoved him away from you, but he was quite strong. you thought you were about to be robbed or even worse, but that all immediately fizzled out when someone had intervened. a man with bubblegum pink hair had the guy shoved on the ground. he kicked and beat the shit out of the guy, leaving him completely scared and helpless on the dirty floor.

sanzu had tended to you the moment he saw your frightened expression. he brought you to the police station and you reported the man who had been following you. you thought that would be the last time you’d ever see him, but that wasn’t the case.

you saw him more often than you should have. you two started a connection with each other and began to go out to bars or even little dates. you tried to tell yourself it was just platonic, but you disliked how your heart would often skip a beat whenever you saw his name light up on your phone. the only issue was that sanzu was the head of a huge company in Tokyo. he rivaled you, and seeing him could cause issues within your business. however, you just couldn’t stay away.

that’s how you ended up in your own office with sanzu hovering above you. his cock bullied your walls, making it difficult for you to keep quiet. “mmm.. sanzu! oh, god..” you moaned, looking at him through your eyelashes.

a smile stretched across his scarred lips. he knew from the beginning that you were his rival. he had seen you before, but he could care less. you were a beautiful woman and he couldn’t lie that you made him happy. “keep sayin’ it, baby, scream out my fuckin’ name so everyone in this building knows who’s making you feel good..” he then began to play with your swollen clit, increasing the pleasure.

you practically screamed his name when you finally came all over his cock. he thought it was so cute seeing you becoming such a mess for him. “s-sanzu! sanzu!” you whined, trembling within his hands from your orgasm.

your desk began to creak from the movements and the weight you both were putting on it. sanzu’s pace was rough and fast. you could hardly keep up with him. his cock was twitching and within seconds he felt himself let go inside of you. he loved how warm your pussy felt around him. he just couldn’t help himself.

he kissed you sloppily, biting on your lower lip. “don’t think we’re much of a secret now, are we..?”

♡ RINDOU HAITANI

rindou haitani was quite the charmer. he didn’t have the best luck with women, but when he did, he treated them like angels. that was no different when he met you at one of the clubs he DJ at.

he drew you in almost instantly. his expensive cologne, lavender hair, a smile that could make any girl drop her panties. you knew hooking up with him that night would be good, and you thought it would be just a simple one night stand. most men your age never really stuck around after one sex filled evening, so you placed your expectations below what they usually were.

though, it shocked you when rindou continued to message you, even after your hookup.

although you were a little unsure of his intentions, you decided to keep seeing him. he took you out on nice dates, and he had even went as far as buying you a few nice gifts from expensive stores. it wasn’t until your assistant pointed out who rindou actually was that you realized how wrong it looked to be seeing someone like him. rindou ran a company that rivaled yours. it shocked you that you hadn’t noticed far sooner, but you just couldn’t stay away from him.

you repeated to yourself over and over that you wouldn’t fuck him again. you shouldn’t be doing it at all.

but, your body had betrayed you and that desire for him lit like a candle in the dark.

rindou had your legs around his waist. his thrusts were deep and fast, making you cry out in pleasure every single time he reached those great spots inside you. he had you just where he wanted you. “rindou..! fuck, it feels so good..!” you threw your head back onto the pillow behind you.

“heh, you enjoying yourself? you’re so fucking beautiful..” he groaned, leaning down to nibble at your neck.

you gasped when rindou bit down on that sweet spot on your neck. he sucked on it hard enough that there would for sure be a mark afterwards. it’s like he was begging for you two to be caught by others. that thought alone didn’t seem to bother rindou. if anything, he wanted people to know what you two were doing with each other.

you clawed at his back when you felt your orgasm hit you harder than a truck. rindou couldn’t help but grunt when your pussy clamped around his cock so perfectly. fuck, it’s like you were made for him. “so good for me, baby, so fuckin’ good..” he quickened his thrusts, inching him closer to his high. “want me to cum in you..? make this pretty pussy all mine?”

“y-yes! yes, please, rindou!” you cried, nodding your head.

he held your thighs tightly, fucking the absolute shit out of your cunt. you were so fucking great. he never found someone like you. he didn’t care what your statuses might be. all he wanted was you.

rindou groaned one last time then he reached his climax. he had completely let go inside of you. thick cum filled your womb, leaving a huge mess inside. you took it all so well. he didn’t want to leave your snug walls. “wanna go again..? maybe i can give you a baby while i’m at it..” he smirked.

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