#so hes dragging them everywhere and dressing them up and shit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seonghwaddict · 10 months ago

Text

ateez and their top 3 kinks — masterlist

genre. hc, smut...? rating. mature. warnings. sexual content mdni, yn wears a dress in one part, kinks and stuff, marking, rough-ish, mentions of toys, somnophilia, size kinks, praise, degradation, bdsm themes, public/semi-public sex, breath play, it’s like a lot of kinks. wc. 1.1k.

[ lilo’s notes . . . ] uh yeah i wrote this at 2 in the morning i have no fucking idea why i decided to do this but anyways- enjoy :3

hongjoong

marking. he’d mark you and fucking love to have you mark him… he’s literally so possessive and would never pass the opportunity to physically show people you’re his and he’s yours. hickeys literally everywhere and so many of them you’ll have a hard time covering them up—neck, chest, thighs, back, anywhere.

orgasm control. he’s a natural leader, what he says goes. so, of course, he’d want to be the one to control when you finish. which leads me to my next point.

overstimulation. he personally doesn’t like to be overstimulated but god does he love doing it to you. he loves the whines and twitches as he continue pressing a vibrator against your clit because, let’s be fr, he’d definitely be using plenty of toys (as well as himself).

seonghwa

shibari. i’ve said it once and i’ll say it again and again and again. this man loves nothing more than to tie you up in the most intricate and borderline artistic ways for his own (and your) pleasure.

sensory deprivation. he absolutely loves the trust and vulnerability that comes with this. specifically, he likes to blindfold you and run his hands all over you as lightly as he can, barely brushing over all the spots he knows make you feel good, soft plushy lips ghosting over your skin. and no matter how light it is, you’ll always feel everything ten times more intensely, having nothing else to focus on but his voice and his touch. also, ice cubes.

praise. this is something he’ll incorporate into your everyday lives outside of bedroom a activities. he’ll make sure to tell you you’re doing well while your working on something. gentle head pats and approving nods.

yunho

size kink. this is so obvious but like literally look at him, he makes everyone seem so tiny compared to him. he likes to stare as he pushes his huge dick into you, jaw practically dropping as his huge hands pin your hips to the mattress. speaking of hands…

fingers in mouth…(?) i have no idea if this is an actual kink, but i just know this is so yunho. he’s the type of guy to have you suck your own release off him after he fingers you, getting off on the way your lips wrap around his digits. he would definitely have two fingers or his thumb stuffed in your mouth as he fucks you.

breath play. is it obvious i really like his hands? anyways, i will not be elaborating on this for the sake of my sanity.

yeosang

body worship. is this a seonghwaddict post without body worship being involved in some way? that’s right, no. he’s more into giving the body worship, but when he’s receiving it he becomes the ultimate softie (in my head, he’d be leaning towards being a hard dom tho)

edging. oh he would absolutely love your subtle frustrated huffs every time he stops whatever he’s doing, thinking you look so so cute when you’re desperate and practically begging. and then he’d finally let you finish, giving you the best orgasms you’ve ever experienced.

wax play. usually yeosang is a pretty calm guy outside of the bedroom and he likes to maintain that when it comes to foreplay, building up the anticipation. he specifically likes those candles that melt the wax into massage oil.

san

bondage. i think shibari would also be suitable for san, but he would do it with the usual ropes unlikes seonghwa. additionally, san is totally into marking. bondage/shibari would include exactly that—bruises and rope burns.

locations. ok so i didn’t exactly know what to call this, but he would not give a single shit about where and when he fucks you. backstage during an intermission? you’ll be dragged into a dressing room so he can give you some quick head before going back on stage, someone pounding on the door but he ignores them. at a dinner with some friends, you looking as ravishing as ever? he’ll either discreetly slip his hands up the skirt of your dress to finger you, drag you to a bathroom when no one’s looking, or drag you into the backseat of his car and rip that dress of you. this man has no patience and would rather not wait until you’re in the private confines of your home.

manhandling. he has all those muscles for a reason.

mingi

size kink. the twin towers have very obvious size kinks. like, how could they not? they’re fucking huge.

praise. giving and receiving. mingi likes being told how well he’s doing as much as he likes to be the one telling his partner. he needs the reassurance to make sure what he’s doing feels good for you, he’d hate to hurt you.

somnophilia. ok idk if this counts as it, but he thinks it’s so cute when he fucks you to sleep. his touches and his words and the way he fills you up so gentle soothing it’s like you’re being lulled to sleep. like he’s literally such a softie, okay? he knows his dick game’s good.

wooyoung

humiliation/degradation. giving and receiving. come on guys he basically admitted this already. he would be such a menace in bed, he would coo at you and mock you as he fucks you stupid.

biting. is this even a surprise? he loves to sink his teeth into you as a form of affection, listening to your whimpers and feeling you writhe beneath him as he… multitasks.

dry humping. he doesn’t care that it makes him seem like an inexperienced high schooler making out with his partner. he loves the friction he gets when he slowly grinds against you through your layers of clothing (and he knows you love it too). idk and like he would get desperate at some point, almost there but not quite there yet because it’s not quite enough, and yeah i just like the idea of that.

jongho

sir. he would love to be called sir. or daddy, but i think sir is just so jdjsjhcjsnc like i’m literally pacing in my room as i write this. JUST IMAGINE IT FOR A SECOND PLEASEEE- “please” “please what” “please, sir” “good. very good, darling” AHHHHHHHH

location. couldn’t care less about where he fucks you pt 2. kitchen counter, living room couch, dressing room in a clothing store, in the shower, bathroom stall, up against a wall, the list could literally go on forever.

eye contact. whether it’s forced or not, he thinks eye contact is one of the hottest things. he likes missionary for that exact reason—so he can look you in the eyes, look at you in your fucked out state, as he makes you feel things you know no one else can make you feel.

ot8 (aka things i wanted to give to all of them, with no explanation)

thigh riding.

i want them so bad.

　　[ networks ... ] @cromernet @blankjournal

　　[ perm taglist — open ... ] @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb

1K notes · View notes

steddie-as-they-come · 1 year ago

Text

ok listen so i saw this tiktok where this girl was at a concert and the singer gave her his ring to hold for a song and then didn’t take it back and i knew i had to steddie-fy it. enjoy!

Steve didn’t know what he was doing there.

Robin had dragged him along to this bar to chaperone for her date with some metalhead girl, but sometime during the night she had disappeared into the bathroom to go make out with said girl, and Steve had been left alone at the front of the crowd.

Look, he never said he was a good chaperone, alright?

And now the next band was coming out.

Corroded Coffin stepped onto the stage, and Steve felt his mouth go dry.

The guy in front, the lead singer, was the hottest fucking guy he had ever seen.

He had dark, curly hair, was dressed in skinny-as-hell jeans, and his shirt had the sleeves cut off, as well as most of the seams on the side. When he raised his arms, Steve caught a glimpse of ink under the shirt.

The guy wrapped a ringed hand around the neck of his guitar, smiling devilishly at the crowd. “Ready for the most metal concert ever?”

The crowd screamed their approval, and Steve screamed along with them, not knowing what the fuck he was doing. He knew he looked so out of place among them, his soft yellow sweater a spotlight against the sea of black clothing and silver chains.

The singer strummed an experimental note, then frowned down at his hands. “Dammit, wore the wrong ring today.” He slid a ring off his right knuckle, then peered at the crowd. “Here.”

He pointed at Steve, whose heart froze. He tilted his head. “Me?”

“Yeah.” He lobbed the ring at Steve underhanded, who caught it gently. “Hold that for the rest of the show, alright, pretty boy?”

The guy backed up and started the count for his band, but Steve didn’t even hear when they started to play. He was too busy staring at the ring, turning it over and over again in his hand. It was a cool silver, with an amber stone inlaid in it.

He slid the ring onto his pinkie.

“Holy shit, Steve!” came a familiar voice in his ear. It was Robin, hair messed up and makeup smeared. “These guys are good!”

He laughed. “I see you had fun.”

“Steve. Steeeve. She is so fucking hot, dude.” Robin said, splaying over his shoulder. “She went to- where’d you get that?”

She was looking at the ring.

“Uh,” Steve said dumbly. “He gave it to me.” He pointed up at the lead singer, whose hair was flying everywhere as he belted into the mic. His voice was amazing, like a wrecking ball crashing through Steve’s heart.

“No fucking way.” came a voice from Steve’s other side. Robin’s date, Emily or Amelie or something like that, he couldn’t quite remember, said. “Eddie Munson gave you a ring?”

“Yeah?” Steve said. He plucked the cup out of her hands and passed it to Robin, who drained it. “Why?”

“Because he never takes them off. There’s band interviews of them where his band mates are complaining because Eddie won’t share. And he just gave you one?”

A particularly loud stomp broke them out of their trances and made Robin fall off Steve’s shoulder. Eddie must have seen they weren’t paying attention, and decided to make them pay attention, by jumping and landing right by Steve’s head.

Steve jolted back up, staring directly into Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie winked.

Steve felt his face grow hot, and even though he tried to tell himself it was only the stage lights reflecting onto his face, he knew that wasn’t it.

Corroded Coffin may not have been Steve’s taste in music, but he couldn’t deny they were good. Eddie, of course, stole the show, his undeniable stage presence drawing everyone in.

Including Steve, of course.

By the time the set was over, Corroded Coffin packed up their shit and left the stage. Steve was preoccupied with getting home.

As the two of them exited the bar in a stream of other patrons, he looked down at his hand.

The ring Eddie had given him was sitting innocently on his pinkie, twinkling up at him.

“Shit.” he whispered.

“What?” Robin asked. “Steve, what is it?”

“His ring. I think I was supposed to give it back at the end of the show.”

“Aw, really?” Robin said. “And here I was thinking he proposed.”

Steve shoved her, then dragged her out of the way of the doors. “Shut up, I gotta return this before he reports it as stolen.”

“I think the only thing that’s stolen is my heart.” someone said from behind him.

Steve whipped around.

Eddie.

“That was…really, really corny.” Steve said, trying to regain his footing. His entire brain was screaming “HOT BOY” at him, so it wasn’t really working. He thought he made a valiant effort, though. Robin had slunk off to hide somewhere and watch from afar, the traitor.

Eddie shrugged. “Eh, opportunity came up, had to take it.” He held out his hand to shake. “Eddie Munson.”

Steve took it. “Steve Harrington.”

He slid the ring off his finger and made to drop it into Eddie’s hand, but Eddie held up a hand. “Listen, I’ve decided you can keep it, but only if I get your number in return.”

“Really?” Steve crossed his arms, balling the ring into his fist. The cold metal pressed against his palm. “I’ve heard from one of your fans that you don’t even share your rings with your band mates. Why do I get one?”

“Let’s just say I’m curious about why a guy dressed like he just got out of a PTA conference is in my metal audience.” Eddie said.

Steve looked down at his sweater. “Okay, listen, it wasn’t a PTA meeting.” he said. “It was a bake sale.”

Eddie laughed. “Even better, Jesus. You’ve got to tell me more.”

“I’m free for lunch around one?” Steve offered.

“Perfect.” Eddie tapped his phone and offered it to Steve to put in his contact. “Text you soon, pretty boy.”

Steve was so preoccupied with watching him walk away, he didn’t realize he still had the ring.

#eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington

1K notes · View notes

wynnyfryd · 1 year ago

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 30

part 1 | part 29 | ao3

cw: Steve Harrington committing unforgivable thought crimes (besmirching LotR)

"Uh," Steve stammers as Eddie tugs him off the couch, because he just propositioned the guy while covered in snot and tears and wearing a blanket as a cape, and now that guy is holding his hand.

Eddie doesn't let go after he gets him to his feet. Their fingers lace together, and his palm is soft and warm, his fingers slightly callused. Steve can feel his own pulse pounding in his wrist.

"Simmer down," Eddie teases, "I'm not having sex with you. Yet," he adds with a lewd waggle of his brows when Steve puppy-dog pouts at him. "This is better than sex, anyway."

"If you're having shit sex, maybe.” Steve rolls his eyes and lets himself be dragged past a messy counter, where Eddie stops to grab a black lunch box and a cassette tape, a tissue for Steve’s face, then down the hall to Eddie's bedroom.

"My kingdom," he grins as he shoves the door open and waves Steve through with a bow.

His room is amazing. Awesome and terrible all at once: awesome, because it looks like someone put Eddie’s essence in a blender and ran the blades without a lid, and terrible, because the place is a fucking pigsty. There’s a bag of bread on the floor.

Eddie tells him to make himself at home, so Steve plops down on the edge of his bed, takes in the explosion of artwork tacked to the walls while Eddie buzzes around the room — swoops and swoons like a drunken bee, kicking shit into messy piles, sticking a cig in his mouth and forgetting to find the lighter, turning on the stereo. He pops in the cassette, and Steve lets out a surprised laugh when he hears the upbeat strumming.

"Rumours? Really? That's your 'better than sex' cure?"

Eddie cranks the volume. "It's workin’, ain't it?" he mumbles around the unlit cig.

Steve tries to frown and fails. "…Shut up."

Eddie snickers at him; gives him the cutest smile he's ever seen, nose scrunched up, eyes crinkled at the corners, then he tucks the cigarette behind his ear and shakes his hair out with a grimace. “Christ, it’s hot in here." His hands move to the hem of his shirt. "Look away or don’t, baby, I’m changin’!”

Steve smiles and averts his gaze, falling back on Eddie’s bed and looking at the ceiling with his legs dangled over the edge. In his periphery he can see Eddie hopping gracelessly around the dresser, trying to tug his foot out of the end of his skinny jeans, cursing under his breath; dropping all the ‘g’s off the ends of his words.

"I like your Southern accent."

"Do ya now?" Eddie throws it on thick, really hamming it up, "Well then, I reckon it's plum near the most attractive dad-gum thing y’ever did hear 'round these here pawrts."

Steve honks a mortifyingly stupid laugh, which makes Eddie laugh like a chime in a windstorm, which just makes Steve laugh even more, and maybe Eddie was right.

Maybe this is better than sex.

He wipes at his eyes, misty for a good reason for the first time all night, and when he looks up again Eddie’s dressed in his pajamas. Dark gray gym shorts, a black cut-off tank, the arm holes deep and loose to expose his armpit hair, his ribs.

Steve’s mouth goes dry.

Eddie’s wiry and pale, firm muscle wrapped around his string-bean frame, and he's covered in tattoos — black line art and gray shading, fantastical beasts and staffs and swords, a crazily-detailed set of serpent scales snaking up his side. But it's his legs that catch Steve's eye.

His legs are covered in words. Words and doodles everywhere, from his calves to his thighs, the lines wobbly and thick like Eddie put them there himself. There are quotes in sloppy cursive, longer ones in blocky print; a few stylized to look like comic book dialog, the words POW! and DANGER outlined in spiky bubbles above his knee. Steve wants to trace the lines; rehearse him like a poem, learn each ink stroke with his fingers until he can recite them all by heart.

Eddie catches him staring and gives a small, pleased grin. “Like what you see?”

Steve’s tongue feels too big for his mouth. “Yeah. I really do.”

The smile widens. Eddie clambers onto the bed, stepping over Steve’s head and plopping down beside him with his back against the wall, one leg drawn up, the other stretched out long and loose.

Steve shifts to lay the same direction, and his shoulder brushes Eddie’s leg, his wrist ghosting against his ankle bone. He doesn’t pull away; likes the look of their skin tones side by side — the smooth desert landscape of his inner arm, accented only by a few veins and moles; the riot of ink and art all along Eddie’s shin. Eddie’s feet are bare, and they’re wide, a little hairy (reminds Steve of Dustin’s nerdy ring book, and he almost says as much, but he knows Eddie’s even more obsessed with that shit than the kids are. He really doesn’t want the dude to pop a brain boner and spend the next four hours lecturing Steve about jewelry lore.)

“What are you giggling at down there?” Eddie nudges at his elbow.

“Nothing,” Steve says, and Eddie responds “All right then, keep your secrets” in a silly character voice. He stretches to the side and grabs a joint off the bedside table.

“Now,” he says, voice slipping into that deep, slow sing-song thing he does — his sales pitch tone, Steve realizes. “This part is, of course, completely optional, but. In my humble, expert opinion—”

“So humble,” Steve teases under his breath.

“—It really enhances the whole experience.”

“The Stevie Nicks Therapeu- thera-” Oh, screw it. “Un-saddening Experience?”

“That is correct.” He holds it out over Steve’s face, wiggling it in offering, and Steve thinks about his conversation with Robin over brunch:

"I can't believe you did coke.” "I can't believe you smoked weed." "I know." "Was it okay?" He hasn't tried weed since... "Yeah," she answers seriously. "Yeah, it was okay. It was nice, actually."

“Okay,” he decides. I trust you. “Let’s do it.”

Eddie puts the joint between his lips and lights it up.

—

part 31

listen i know it’s a quote from a movie that will not exist for another 16 years just let me have this. tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #my fic #my writing

718 notes · View notes

theemporium · 1 year ago

Text

Steve wasn’t exactly sure how he ended up here, but he wasn’t mad about it.

It wasn’t that he didn’t get along with his colleagues, it was just the simple fact that most of them were his father’s age or older, and there was only so much they had in common before the conversation hit a wall. But the job at the firm was flashy and prestigious and exactly the thing Mr Harrington expected of his son, and it was where Steve found himself straight after college.

The days blurred into one as time passed. He would wake up, get dressed in the three piece suit that was laid out for him, grab his briefcase, drive to work, spend the day staring at documents until his eyes were dry, and then he would come home for dinner. It was like he was stuck on a loop, living the same day, one after the other until Steve could have sworn he was running on muscle memory alone.

He knew what the other men at the firm thought of him. A young, hot-shot who was just there on daddy’s merit and nothing else. Maybe that’s why Steve never really expected to have a relationship with any of his colleagues. Maybe that’s why he was surprised that after a year of working with them, they were inviting him on one of their fancy work nights out.

It was everything he expected. From the three hundred dollar steaks to the whiskey from a date long before he was born, from the talks of business deals to details about their personal lives he very much wished he didn’t know.

But what Steve wasn’t expecting was for the night to end at a fucking strip club.

“Enjoy it, kid,” one of the older men in the group said as he clapped him on the back, jostling him from his spot by the entrance. “Nobody is gonna say shit in here. We tip well.”

Steve could only nod in response.

He was tense and awkward but it was hard not to be. The men at the firm were pigs, cheering and hollering as they threw one dollar bills at the dancers like they were objects for their entertainment.

Steve guessed in an odd way they were.

But they were also people.

He had planted himself firmly by the bar, sipping on the same drink he had bought when they first entered the club over an hour ago. He tried to keep his eyes everywhere but the dancers on the stage, or even the workers in little-to-no clothing walking around the establishment.

He tried to remain respectful.

Then, you walked out onto the stage.

Steve didn’t even realise he was staring until your eyes caught his in the crowd. He had been enraptured by you, by the way you moved and the way you held yourself on stage. There were at least forty odd men loitered around the establishment, and yet, you were the one in control.

Your lips twitched when you noticed him staring. It wasn’t like the other patrons. He wasn’t ogling or leering at you like you were a piece of meat. He was looking at you like you were art.

His eyes stayed on you for your whole set. You watched some of your colleagues approach him as they weaved their way through the crowd for extra tips, but his eyes stayed firmly on you. You tried not to think about the way your stomach dipped in response.

Steve almost felt gutted when you walked off the stage. He felt a pang in his chest, his eyes eagerly trying to find where you went but you were gone. His eyes fell back to his half-drunken whiskey, thinking if he should just throw in the towel and call it a night, and head back home before the firm dragged him to another club.

Until the hair of the back of his neck rose when he felt a warm hand on his arm, his head turning to find you saddled up beside him.

Smiling at him.

“Hey, stranger,” you greeted, but all he could think was that you were there and you were even prettier up close, and fuck, you smelt so good.

“Hey, hi,” Steve cleared his throat, his cheeks tinted pink.

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, watching the way Steve’s eyes fixated on the movement. He was sweet and he wasn’t like the other men here. He almost seemed innocent.

And you wanted to be the one who corrupted him.

“Would you like to go somewhere more private?”

The question lingered between you for a whole three seconds before he was quickly nodding his head, happily taking your hand as you began to guide him towards the rooms in the back. You never went there with any patrons from the club, but Steve was different.

The first thing Steve noted was how dark the room was. There were a few coloured lights dotted around, the red hue shining and engulfing every inch of your skin. It shouldn’t have made his cock stir in his pants the way it did, it shouldn’t have made his mouth dry.

“Champagne?”

The words had left his brain, leaving Steve to only nod in response.

You passed him the flute of champagne, the bubbles tinted red and the drink a little pink. It almost matched the colour of your lips. He let you take his other hand and guide him to the leather couch that took up the whole back wall of the room. He let you push his chest until he fell back, the liquid in his glass sloshing but neither of you caring.

“What do you do back here?” He asked, his voice low and rough. He almost felt like he should be whispering.

“Whatever you want,” you replied, a dark promise on your lips, and Steve realised he wanted all of them.

“Anything,” he breathed out.

His eyes were glued to you as you leaned over him, straddling his lap until you were pressed up against him and your faces were mere inches apart. The glass in his hand was long gone, clanking as it rolled off the couch and landed on the floor—but neither of you cared. His hands moved to your waist, large and warm and holding onto you like a fucking lifeline.

“Is this your first time here, baby?” You asked, your nose gently nudging his as you bit back your grin when you saw his eyes fluttering shut.

Steve nodded slightly.

Your smile became a little more dangerous. “You want me to make it memorable?”

“Please,” he rasped.

“Just relax,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his and a pained noise left his lips as you ground your hips against his. “Be a good boy f’me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he whined before you finally pressed your lips against his, muffling the noises that he made.

The rooms were sound-proof and the music out on the main stage was loud enough to drown everything out, but a selfish part of you wanted to keep his noises all to yourself. You didn’t even know his name, you didn’t know anything about him.

But maybe that just made you want him more.

You tore your lips away from his, tracing a line of kisses along his cheek and down his jaw. You dipped your head to the junction of his neck, teeth scraping against his sensitive skin as his hips rutted up into you. The noises he was making were pathetic and needy and made the coil in the pit of your stomach tighten.

“Fuck, I—” Steve’s head rolled back, resting against the back of the couch as he squeezed your hips. “I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah?” You hummed in his ear, nipping his lobe as you rocked back and forth on his lap. You could feel his cock straining beneath the fabric of his slacks, could feel the way he was pulsing and desperate to come. “You gonna come for me? Gonna make a mess for me, baby boy?”

“Shit,” he hissed as his eyes fell shut, his mouth slack.

“That’s it, baby, that’s my boy,” you murmured, placing soft kisses along his cheek as he let out a pitiful whine when your grinding became too much.

You took pity on the boy, your fingers gripping his chin as you pulled him into one last kiss, your tongue lazily stroking against his before you pulled yourself off his lap. “You did good, baby.”

Steve blinked, a slight dazed look in his eyes as he stared up at you. “Wait, you didn’t—”

“You can make it up to me,” you said with a knowing smile on your face. “I’ll see you around, baby boy.”

And Steve could only watch as you walked out the room, jaw slack and hands itching to touch you once again. He wanted to know what you looked like, what you sounded like, what you tasted like when you came. Fuck, he wanted to know everything about you.

Even if he didn’t know your name.

#cece's smutober #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things smut

690 notes · View notes

lottins-only · 2 months ago

Text

I bet we’d have really good bed chem | aurélien tchouaméni

A/N: i wrote this on a whim lmao but lmk what yall think. inspired by the sabrina carpenter song obvi.

warning: nsfw ig. not full on smut but suggestive stuff

you see him before he does. he’s hard to miss, moving around the party surrounded by a herd of people, as if to not interact with the normies. it makes you roll your eyes. why do famous people have to make such a fuss everywhere they go?

it’s a packed house party that night in Madrid, hosted by some influencer who hangs around the rich and famous. no wonder a couple real madrid players are here. they roll red carpets for them wherever they go in these parts. you, on the other hand, have no business being at the party, but you’d slipped in as a plus one of a plus one.

now, you’re indulging in all the free drinks, moving your body to whatever beat is playing. you and your friend are dancing together, moving among the mass of hot sweaty bodies. you’re having a time.

that is, until some asshole steps on your foot, crushing your toes through your open toe heels.

“Ow!” you yelp, hands flying to your feet. “What the fuck?”

“Oh mon dieu, I’m sorry” a deep, accented voice says while a firm hand on your arm steadies you. you look up to find its owner, and lo and behold it’s mr. aurelien tchouameni himself, madrid’s resident pretty boy.

he has the audacity to smirk at you while you’re still wincing in pain, dragging his eyes up your sheer black dress languidly. eyes pause at your cleavage before moving up to your face again. you yourself take stock of what’s in front of you; it’s not everyday you see someone so famous, and you gotta admit, so handsome up close. he’s dressed in a white bomber jacket and a pair of dark skinny jeans. that second part alone should’ve given you the ick but his beautiful face makes up for his disastrous fashion sense: plump, full lips. high cheekbones. jawline that could cut glass. deep brown eyes. he smiles a knowing smile, licking his lips. he knows you think he’s hot, of course he does.

“what’s your name?” he asks, hand still on your arm.

“y/n”

“I’m aurelien”

no shit, you think.

you shake hands, eyes locked.

“pretty name” you say

“pretty face” He says without skipping a beat. you smile involuntarily.

someone shoves past you in that moment, pushing you forward. you try to steady yourself, one hand instinctively landing on his chest. you almost gasp; he might as well have been made with stone the way his muscled chest is hard. you fight every desire you have to move your hand around the ridges of his abs, feel him up a bit.

he smirks again, leaning down close to your ear.

“need a hand or do you just like what you see?” His breath is hot against your neck, making you shiver.

you quickly snatch your hand away, flushing hotly. he caught you red handed, like he read your mind. when he leans back up his eyes are twinkling with mischief. bitch, you think.

“y/n, do you want to –”

he’s interrupted by one of his people whispering in his ear. He turns to you, apologetic again.

“give me your phone” He says. when you just give him a confused look, he takes the device out of your hand and deftly puts in his contact details, sliding the phone back into your palm in seconds. your breath hitches at the feeling of your fingers touching.

“i have to go” he says, then looks down at your feet. “sorry again”

he winks, flashing you a smile. then he’s gone. you shift to the side as his entourage moves, trying to avoid getting trampled on again.

you stay up a little later that night, staring at his contact on your phone, wishing you’d been the one to give him your number so he could reach out first. no one left you tongue tied like that, but the thing is, he’s so hot. So, here you are.

a couple days go by and your friend lets you know that the person who invited her to party reached out asking for your instagram. apparently, a friend of that person's friend met you at the party and wanted to connect. your friend asks if its ok to pass along your handle, and you hesitantly say yes, hoping, wishing, it's him and not some rando you don't remember meeting.

you get the notification on instagram that night: aurelientchm has requested to follow you!

you wait an hour to accept his request, and his message is instant: what does a guy have to do to get a text from you?

you type back: not step on my feet for starters

touché, he responds within seconds. you keep texting, flirting. you find you have a lot of the same tastes in music, movies, and also the same humor, so it’s pretty easy to make conversation. another week goes by and you start texting daily and even sending each other voice notes . you try to meet up, but it never works out: you’re either swamped with work, or he’s busy with training or off at an away match.

not in your timezone, but I wish I was :( he texted once when you proposed meeting but he was abroad for a champions league game.

the trouble starts when you open his instagram live one night. there he is in his home gym, your breath hitching at the sight of him. shirtless and glistening with sweat, he moves along to the beat of the music, mouthing the words to the french rap playing. his chest is sculpted and chiseled, pecs and abs defined. his shoulders, broad and powerful, lead down to a narrow waist. you watch as he goes through his routine, mouth slightly agape and heart racing as your eyes track his every movement, his every flex of muscle. then it’s over. the notification saying the live ended interrupts your almost drooling.

you toss and turn in your sleep during the night. the way he moved, his beautiful body, it was all stuck in your head. you can’t help it, you think about him touching you. those deep brown eyes giving you bedroom eyes. how he’d pick you up, pull down your panties, flip you around. You can hear his deep accented voice murmuring sweet nothings while his head is buried in between your legs. you imagine how he’d look hovering above you, that damn silver chain dangling down between you two. would he have the same concentrated look he had at the gym when he’s inside you? eyebrows furrowed, biting his lip, forehead glistening with sweat? you’d move together in a steady rhythm, your hands clinging to his back. he’d maintain eye contact throughout. and then, after basking in each other’s pleasure, you’d both arrive at the same time. you can see it all in your head.

needless to say, you go to sleep that night with an unsatisfied ache between your legs.

the instagram live is just the beginning though. aurelien starts sending you gym videos that leave you hot and bothered pretty regularly, and now it’s pretty clear to you that he’s thirst trapping you. slow zoom-ins of his chest interspersed with some cute content of his dog fill your screen whenever you open his snaps; the man is truly a menace. the worst part is that it works: you spend an alarming amount of time thinking about him, or thinking about you and him together, doing nasty things. if his end goal is leaving you in a perpetual state of horniness, then he’s achieved it. it’s unfair really.

are you free next week?

when you receive his text in the middle of work, you don’t hesitate for a second before replying with an enthusiastic yes. you quickly arrange to meet him at your place after his afternoon match. he even sends you tickets for you and a friend to attend the game, which you both enjoy. but as much as you try to focus on the game, your thoughts are already preoccupied. you make a joke with your friend about manifesting that he's oversized. because that’s all you can think about during those 90 minutes. you have high expectations, but you bet it’s better than in your head.

before you know it, you’re back in your apartment, waiting for him to pull up. you jump when you hear a knock, and you quickly open the door. he’s standing there looking handsome and freshly showered in his real madrid tracksuit and smiling that pretty smile at you. you lock eyes, and they say things you don’t verbalize.

“hi” he says.

“hi” you say back, flushing.

he drops his bag to the floor, and he quickly sweeps you off the ground, his lips crashing onto yours.

it is indeed better than in your head, you later find out.

#aurelien tchouameni x reader #aurelien tchouameni imagine #football imagine #aurelien tchouameni x you

136 notes · View notes

darklydeliciousdesires · 11 months ago

Text

Buffed Brass and Baritones - An Arthur Shelby/Reader One Shot Story.

A bit of Arthur smut, besties? Yes. Why not. Inspired by a statement shared by my lovely @call-sign-shark earlier today. This is for you, babe!

(GIF credit - @edmundhoar)

Words - 1,114

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

You’d never considered the Birmingham accent to be particularly sexy before, you had to admit. That was until Arthur fucking Shelby opened his mouth and let that rumbling baritone out, of course. Now, well... the man could recite something as simple as a grocery list to you and you’d probably come on the spot, such is your weakness for those deep, gritty tones.

“Are ya all finished, bab?” he asks as you meander outside of the back room door within The Garrison. “Everywhere nice and clean, is it?”

Instantly, your knees tremble. “Yes, Mr Shelby. Absolutely spotless.”

“Good.” His eyes rake over you, lips curling into a wide grin. “Then how’d ya fancy getting a bit dirty, eh?”

Did... did he really just proposition you?

“Well?” he barks, making you jump a little. “No good you standing there floundering like a bloody fish! Do you want me to fuck ya, or not?”

“I mean, yes, but...”

“Well then!” He rises from his seat, pointing in the direction of the bar. “Get your clobber off, go on!”

You know he’s loud and uncouth, but still, you’re taken by surprise, rooted to the spot, Arthur letting out a sigh as he reaches for you. “Fine, fucking fine! I’ll get your bloody clobber off!” Throwing you over his shoulder like a little rag doll, his big hand smacks hard against your bum, your squealing giggle filling the empty pub.

He seats you right at the very end of the bar, yanking you close, kissing you with all the passion and torrent of a storm, lithe body pressing to yours as his hands force your knees apart. Your shoes drop from your feet onto the floor, Arthur wasting no time in pulling your dress up.

Your eyes suddenly widen. “Shit! I’m not wearing my good knickers.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, raising an eyebrow at you as he yanks them off. “And now you’re wearing no knickers at all, bab.” Pushing your thighs apart, a rumble of desire sounds his throat as he sees your cunt splayed before him. “Blimey, ain’t you pretty.”

He dives straight in with no hesitation at burying his mouth against your folds, hungry tongue roving over you before settling to beat back and forth over your clit. Your hips rise, your mouth dropping open, staggered by the fast pace of it all. Arthur isn’t a man who entertains wasting time, though. Sex with him surely would never be any different.

He’s completely unrelenting with you, sucking on your bud greedily as he groans deep, the sound settling over your bones as the pleasure lights you up like a firework. His fingers sink into the soft of your thighs, eyes twinkling at you as he watches you enjoy it, smiling at you with a wink. “Like that, don’t ya?”

“Oh my bloody god!” you cry, you voice pinched tight. “How can anyone be so good with their tongue?”

He rumbles a chuckle. “Lots of practice, bab.” You don’t doubt that for a second. God, if he was yours, you’d never let him come up for air. He then slows, making you glimmer with long, flat licks, slowing until you begin to whine and shake.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, the tip of his tongue beating rapidly over your clit. “You’re drowning me.”

“Sorry,” you pant, feeling a little self-conscious.

He eyes you curiously, snorting a soft laugh. “Ain’t a a bad thing, love. Ain’t a bad thing at all.” He gives you a few more glimmer-evoking licks before straightening, hands moving to unhook his braces and undo his trousers. “I think you’re ready to get fucked now, beautiful.”

Pulling his cock out, he pushes straight into you… and in… and in… and…

“Jesus, Arthur!” you gasp, mouth falling open. “How bloody long is it?”

His grin is so snugly self-assured as he finally bottoms out, dragging back once more. “Long enough to make a donkey cry if I stood next to him naked.”

You laugh, and it turns into a shrill cry as he doesn’t hesitate in beginning to drive into you like a piston.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fucking fuck!” you grit, Arthur tossing your legs over his shoulders, smiling at how much you immediately love being on the receiving end of his long, hungry cock.

“Mmm, a pretty girl with a foul mouth,” he pants, turning his head to kiss your ankle. “My favourite kind.” Giving you the kind of pounding that has your screams filling the room, your body is shunted against the bar forcefully, your mouth hanging open in exclamation. He then slows, enjoying the hot, tight clutch of your cunt, his eyes falling to watch how his cock sparkles in the dim light, glazed in the velvet wet of you.

You can barely belive you’re doing it. You’re actually having sex with your boss, the man you’ve dreamed of for months. He is the sexual splendour you’ve always fantasised about, stroking your walls so deftly, so deeply, the power behind him barely contained. He leans to you, tugging your dress and bra down, his mouth raining kisses across your flushed chest, tongue seeking your nipples, circling slowly, slowly.

Adding a little more speed to each teasing thrust, he begins to stoke the bonfire of your pleasure, your flames crackling, feeling unmoored entirely. Your slippery walls flex around him in appreciation of his assailing, igniting you with the delicious depth of each thrust as you sheathe him, crying out, his hands bracketing your waist.

Something within him breaks at hearing your shrill wails, and once again he begins to pound into you with unmatched ferocity, giving you all that you craved, his self-control abandoned, his graveled groans intoxicating to your ears.

“Look how good you take it. Mmmm, yeah. What a fucking good girl.”

Everything is wild, fervid, uncontained and magmatic, both of you spiralling headlong into the kind of release that has your moans and groans filling the air along with the sound of your skin smacking together. It capsizes you, an undoing of all-consuming magnitude charging through you, the god-given talent of his fuck rendering you a shaking, panting mess beneath him.

“Bloody hell,” he pants, forehead rested between your breasts, placing a kiss on your sternum. “Dunno what else to say other than bloody hell!”

“You could say anything, Arthur, and it would leave me knock-kneed,” you gasp, reaching to stroke his hair.

“What,” he begins, turning his head to kiss your inner wrist, “even more knock-kneed than fucking you so hard atop the bar, your arse has probably buffed the brass?”

You pull a thoughtful face as he begins to laugh. “Maybe not that much.”

#arthur shelby fanfiction #arthur shelby smut #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby x you #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #arthur shelby fanfic #arthur shelby fic #peaky fucking blinders

262 notes · View notes

squippy360 · 1 year ago

Note

Would be interesting to see SubTop!Clark Kent x DomBottom!Male reader

Clark Kent x Male Reader

(CW: overstimulation, cursing, degrading, lingerie play)

I stumbled through the front door of me and Clark's house, dragging Clark in by his tie. I slammed the door closed and shoved him against the wall, pinning one of his arms to his side.

"I can't fucking take you anywhere. All those damn people flirting with you like they're a bunch of bitches in heat." You growled at him, running your hands over his firm body. Clark's eyes were filled with shame, lust, and need.

"I-I'm sorry, my love! T-They just seemed so nice a-and I didn't think that it would make you upset…" Clark's eyes softened and glossed over, flashing me his puppy eyes.

"After they groped your arms you came running over to me and practically humped me. You got turned on by those fuckers fondling your muscles, you naughty bitch." You growled and gripped his face and smashed your lips onto his. He whined loudly but was cut off by a firm squeeze on his carotid artery. His eyes rolled back a bit and his legs shook as he tried to stay up.

I smirked and pulled away, watching as his bright pink lips twitched and small whimpers escaped his mouth. "Please…" He whined. I could see that his pants were tight as his cock strained against the restricting fabric. I grabbed him by the tie and yanked him upstairs. He stumbled along and yelled as I pushed him into the bed.

I crawled on his lap and tore off his dress shirt. I sighed at his black lingerie that supported his big pecs. I smashed my face in his chest and sucked and bit his nipples. "Good boy~," I said and ground against Clark's waist.

"Oh please! I'm gonna lose it, darling!" Clark whimpered and bucked his hips up into me. I wiggled down and began to take our clothes off. His big and pretty pink cock was dripping with precum all over his underwear. I threw them away and flopped on the bed, pulling Clark on top of me.

"Prove that you can be a good boy. That you can control yourself in public without the need to cum in your pants every time you're near me." I said and grabbed a condom and lube. I tore the condom open and rolled it onto Clark's cock while spreading lube around my hole.

"Should I prep you? I don't want it to hurt-" Clark began. "Be a good boy and fuck me already." I said and spread my legs far enough for his waist to fit perfectly. He lifted my hips easily and slipped his cock into my tight hole. He moaned softly and pumped his cock in and out of me mindlessly.

I gasped and arched my back, moaning loudly. "F-Fuck- OH!" I saw stars when he buried his face in my neck and humped me faster. I clawed at his back and whined into his shoulder loudly. His hands felt around me everywhere before grabbing my cock and jerking it in his hand.

My eyes rolled back and my thighs twitched as I came all over my tummy. "Fuck! Clark!" I moaned. He was whimpering louder, getting close to his release.

"Stop." I growled.

"No! Please!" He sobbed loudly as his hips came to a sudden jerk. I smirked and wiggled my hips to tease him. I waited a bit before letting him thrust into me again.

"Keep going but don't cum unless I tell you." He was faster this time. His moans were high-pitched and whiny. His thrusts became sloppy and needy.

"Shit…shit shit! Yes!" My eyes rolled back and my hips twitched. "Such a good boy~ Oooooh~" I whined as his cock bottomed out inside of me and his cum filled my hole. I shuddered and looked down with a lustful face. He sighed happily and trusted a few times, burying his semen deeper inside me.

He slowly pulled out and watched with glazed eyes as the cum poured out. I wiggled into the bed more and let Clark clean us. He shyly dressed us before hopping into bed and cuddling into my arms.

"Was it good?" Clark whispered gently.

"You were wonderful, love." I whispered back. He kissed me and we both spent the night giggling about our day.

Next: uhhhhhhhhh-

#x male reader #male reader #dc x male reader #clark kent x male reader #superman x male reader

741 notes · View notes

atlafan · 9 months ago

Text

Layna's never been so ravenous for her boyfriend. Which is shocking because there have been many times where she's felt more than desperate to have his body on hers, but this is something different entirely.

Normally, she doesn't like winter by the time February hits. The holidays are long since over, and the snow is less magical. There's black ice everywhere, and the air hurts her face. All that being said, she just found a new reason to like winter.

Sweater vests.

She had no idea Harry even owned them until she saw him wearing one at the latest showing at her gallery. He looked so handsome. All dressed up in a pair of slacks, loafers, sweater vest, and a long jacket. He hasn't exactly been dressing appropriately for winter, so when she sees him walk into the gallery, she feels like the wind has been knocked out of her. Layna is a professional, but she only has so much willpower when it comes to Harry. She's let him fuck her in the backseat of her car in the gym parking lot for fuck's sake.

They lock eyes from across the room. Layna takes out her phone and sends him a text. He raises an eyebrow when he sees her name lit up on his phone.

You're mean

how am I mean?

You look too good

not sry

Bet you're wearing that nice cologne I like so much too

u bet ur🍑

need you

ur werking

come to my office, no one will notice if I slip away for a few minutes

bet

Harry shoves his phone into his jacket pocket and makes his way to Layna's office. It's in such a private area, she's not worried about being caught. Besides, the gallery sold out. Her work is essentially done for the night.

So, that's how Layna ended up clutching at Harry's chest with her leg up over his hip, pressed up against the door of her office on a work night. His lips are on her neck, sucking on her like a leech as her fucks her with his fingers. Her fingers twirl in the material of the vest and she's doing her best not to make too much noise. Her lips are going to be incredibly swollen by the time they're done. She's panting and near convulsing in his arms. Her fingers move up to his hair to rug on. It's finally grown out to a length where she can actually tug on it again. He moans into her neck and pushes her harder up against the door. One of his hands presses flat against it by her head, and she can't help but whimper as she looks at his pulsing veins and rings.

"Shit, I'm gonna make a mess." She gasps when she feels Harry's fingers fucking shallowly into her while his thumb rubs her clit. "I don't want to ruin your pants."

Harry pulls away and looks at her before sinking to his knees and wrapping his lips around her clit as he continues to fuck her with his fingers. Her hands fly right back to his hair. She nearly loses her balance, but Harry keeps her stead, placing one of her legs over his shoulder. He looks up at her and smirks, and that's when she loses it. She lets out a loud cry of his name as he laps away at her juices. He drags her panties back up when he's done and stands up slowly as he runs his hands up her body. He cups her jaw and licks into her mouth. She melts into him.

"I knew you'd like this outfit." He smirks. "Daddy cleans up real good when he wants to, hm?"

"You mean you did this to me on purpose?" She pouts.

"Payback for all your relentless teasing the last few weeks."

"You can't tell me that wearing shorts in the freezing cold doesn't look funny." She scoffs. "Besides, thought we made up from all of that."

"We did." He nods, squeezing her hips. "But I couldn't resist making you sweat."

"Well, you succeeded, and then some. Let me-"

"Nope." He steps back from her. "You can wait until we get home. I'm gonna shove my dick so far down your throat you'll be gagging all over it, and it'll ruin your pretty makeup. You're working, Layna. Compose yourself and be professional." He moves her, she's too stunned to speak. He wacks her ass before leaving the office.

A shiver runs up her spine. How much longer does she have to stay at work for?

NO COMPLAINTS BLURB

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles x oc #no complaints

163 notes · View notes

hopefully-helpful-daemon · 12 days ago

Text

I want Starling to be the insane place that Gotham thinks it is. the only difference is that it's so normal that the people don't even blink when something happens.

A video comes out of Roy Harper and Connor Hawke beating the shit out of a man in the middle of the street? with Mia Dearden cheering them on from the sidewalk? doesn't even make breaking new until it comes out that the man had called Mia something less then flattering, and then the man's face is everywhere.

the nearest big body of water has to be dragged every quarter to make sure that no new bodies have been dumped. there's always at least one pulled up, usually two.

you want to take your kid to the park? sorry, that ones been closed off because they found a body on it this morning! what about the other park on the opposite side on town? it just recently reopened with a big sign saying 'we tried to get all of brain and guts out of the wood chips but we might have missed some, watch your kids!'

the police have recommended a curfew of before sundown? that's because the Dollmaker got out of Ironhights again and he grabs people in the dark. But don't worry! they're hoping to get him before he gets more then 3 people.

the people of Gotham don't think that Bruce is Batman because how the hell could Brucie Wayne be The Batman? the people of Starling don't think that Oliver is the Green Arrow because GA doesn't kill enough people.

there's a compilation that grows by 2 minutes every year named 'Oliver Queen contemplating murder for -minutes'. most of the clips are from parties, when Oliver is taking to someone and the second they turn their back he just glares at them.

Gotham has the crazy people that dress up in organized uniforms and have the big thought out schemes. Starling has the serial killers.

#arrow will always be my first dc hero #and Starling is always be the town that i grew up with #love the batfam and gotham but sometimes they think they're all that and they just aren't #arrowverse #green arrow #dc arrow #arrow #oliver queen #dc roy harper #roy harper #connor hawke #dc conner hawke #starling city #is most of this based on the town i used to live in?#why yes it is!#one of the worst crime rates in the us and with only 40k people #gotham #mia dearden #dc speedy

47 notes · View notes

kiss-me-muchoo · 1 month ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: i think i’m finally clean || part two: HERE

summary_ after a failed desperate attempt from Joel to get you back, you go missing while doing patrol, which leads to the Millers having to go and find you.

warnings_ age gap! (not specified tho), angst, fluff, ANGST, emotionally constipated Joel!, lots of apologies, mostly Joel’s POV

notes_this was supposed to be 1989 related like part one but I love Suki’s new album so much and it’s so Joel Miller coded, Legendary is all I played while creating this.

✰ 𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙓 (𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚)

♪ ♫ 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙋𝙚𝙙𝙧𝙤 𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀

…

How could there be a disco ball in the room? Who found it? And where?

You weren’t expecting much from the Halloween party in Jackson to be honest. But turned out to be full of people with mid-costumes made by the first thing they could come up with. At a long table, you could spot a jar of fruit punch, some simple pastries, and snacks.

Some music was playing as many couples danced on the improvised dance floor. You only stared as you drank some alcohol your friend Lia sneaked in.

“Hey, love your outfit,” Sally says, a friend of yours who also worked in the gardening business of Jackson with you.

“Thanks, Sally. I also love yours” She has a crimson dress with her old usual boots and some fake blood everywhere, made with berries and pomegranate juice. You know because you helped her out with that.

“It’s been ages since I saw so many people gathered. Not even on Christmas” You nod, although you hadn’t lived in Jackson long enough like her.

“I guess Halloween really is that time of the year” she laughs and offers you a gentle smile.

“Hey… I’ve heard Joel has been trying to talk to you”

“I’m not in the mood to handle him or his bratty little girl right now…” Sally laughs even harder at your words. But you’re being serious. For a whole night, you don’t want to think about Joel and Ellie. They are around, you saw once the man talking with Tommy, helping him to drag some trash cans. The girl on the other hand was barely talking with a girl who looked around her age.

“Perhaps… but it’s so hot of him to keep trying with you,” she says and you scoff shrugging.

“You made it sound like he wants to seduce me”

“He may be…”

“No. Oh my God, no, Sally.” You say crossing your arms. Completely missing the pair of eyes that were fixated on you.

“You spent months with him and Ellie in the wild. I swore you were a family when you arrived here the first time”

“I used to think we were a family too. But that’s long forgotten. I’m good right now. Without them…”

Sally doesn’t push it anymore. But she thinks you’re trying to ignore your emotions. And she can’t judge you, she saw how Joel treated you the day of the vegetables.

“Let’s just forget about it, I’m in the mood to dance.” You add, dragging her and improvising some lame dancing along the 90s music playing.

…

Your vision is spinning. The lights that made the party feel like a real disco now seem to be violent faded dots. But you don’t feel sick, you feel light.

It’s nearly past midnight. And there’s still a lot of people in the party. All of the kids of Jackson have been long ago finished with the trick or treating. Sally found a guy to spend the night with and you told her to enjoy but also be careful.

And so you’re also ready to call it a day. You got dressed for Halloween ever since the outbreak. You witnessed a big party, you kissed two guys for fun and you were drunk as hell.

You couldn’t recall another day as happy as that Halloween.

When you almost trip when going down the stairs of the dining hall, you have to sit on them, laughing.

For some seconds, you can see the blurred image of the bright yellow moon. It’s a cold night, but nothing near freezing.

“…y/n?” You hear a male voice calling you.

It was Joel.

“Not tonight, Joel.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I don’t give a shit, I can stand and make it home,” you say calmly. Although you’re drunk, you still feel very conscious.

“I’m takin’ you home” Joel barely grabs your arms when you squirm away from him, standing up immediately.

“For fucks sake, Joel. I want you away from me. A-W-A-Y… GET AWAY FROM ME!” He was taken aback. And there was nowhere to hide his feelings. Joel had been painfully hurt by your words. Even when he had heard the same hours ago, this time hurt even more.

“All of your friends say you keep avoiding the way you feel. Why can’t you just let me speak then you can ignore me the rest of your life?” He shouldn’t be arguing back when you’re drunk. He really shouldn’t.

“Because I’m not interested in whatever shit you will say. You never gave me the chance to speak back then… Remember?…” you say dragging every word with a vague look that only confirms how drunk you are.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying I’m sorry. To Ellie, to me… you are family.”

Your eyes prickle with tears.

Suddenly you’re sober. Your brain works perfectly fine. So you cry.

Joel sees the first tears rolling down and he sighs. He couldn’t comprehend your side of the story because you were excluding him and Ellie. But he wanted to be in your life again. He was a man who had changed so much after Salt Lake.

Joel was open to being vulnerable, just for you.

His body moves closely, attempting to embrace you in a hug. Or at least touch you.

But you move away.

“I need time…” you say before walking away with weak steps but a confident pace.

You don’t dare to look back. The way home is more quiet than silence itself. You block every thought regarding Joel while you wash your hair in the shower. And you are even scared to think about it as you light the candle on your nightstand.

…

Two weeks without any contact with the little Miller family pass by. Ellie sees you in the garden and picking vegetables to send to the kitchen and the rest for livestock or as fertilizer. She also saw you once in the dining hall with your friends laughing and gossiping. And the young girl couldn’t help but think she hadn’t seen you laugh like that. Not ever since you and Joel used to mess with Ellie about the dirty tee shirt she always wore.

Joel goes to your house one night and spots you outside, taking care of your plants, humming some songs, and wearing pajamas. He stood there in the shadows like a creep for more minutes. He looked carefully at how you sat on a patio couch you had near your door and got into the book you pulled out.

Joel reminisced the night Ellie and he had a hateful dinner. They recalled the moment they met you some miles away from Boston. And by the end of the memory, when you told them you were staying in Jackson instead of going with them to the Fireflies in Salt Lake, Ellie snapped. The girl and Joel briefly argued, blaming each other for treating you so bad. But soon Ellie made Joel say three precious words.

He loved you.

And seeing you alone, in your home, almost a year after taking separate ways, only made Joel desperate to feel worthy of your affection.

…

The Miller brothers carried heavy piles of carved wood for a new library the men had built during the summer. Joel and Tommy never lost their contractor’s touch. They beautifully worked so well that ended up giving advice to the younger ones. It was a normal day. That morning a group left to patrol as usual. Others prepared the food of the day. Others refurbished the town. The kids went to school. Everything was normal. Joel was pulling splinters out of his left hand, ready to go home. Ellie discovered the new guitar Joel got, so she seemed curious about the instrument.

His home smelled like cedar and burnt wood. Joel rolled his eyes, watching how Ellie forgot to wash the dishes again. But he was tired, he went straight to take a shower and soon landed on his couch. His muscles relaxed and he closed his eyes for a minute.

Which turned into two hours.

“JOEL!” Ellie yells on his face, waking him up.

“What the fuck, kid?”

“Tommy is here, y/n didn’t come back with her patrol group.” His eyes opened wide as soon as he heard the girl.

“What?”

“She’s missing…” Ellie sounded scared, even anxious. Joel immediately got the chills. He sighed and quickly stood up, ignoring the way his back cracked.

In the kitchen, Tommy sat, looking stressed out.

“What happened?” Joel crosses his arms, already losing his patience.

“Patrol was coming back when some raiders attacked them. It was y/n who gained time for the group, and said she would follow soon, but she didn’t” Joel sighed once again.

“How long ago?” Ellie asked timidly.

“Almost three hours ago…” Joel huffs. Angered at his brother, he gave the table a slight slap.

“Why you didn’t tell me sooner?” Tommy tried to calm him down. The whole reason why he avoided his older brother was because he would get stressed. He had hoped that the other groups that went out to find you would come back with great news.

“The group is almost back but now news so far…”

“I’ll go to find her…”

“I said we’ve already sent people around the area…” Tommy says, but Joel rolls his eyes, putting on his boots. Unbeknownst to Tommy, his last resource was Joel. And deep down, he disapproved of the age gap between you two, but he wanted nothing but your happiness and Joel’s.

“Tommy. I’ll go find her.”

“I’m coming too” Ellie quickly says.

“No. You stay here.”

“Joel. I won’t be able to sleep knowing you could be out there alone. Even worse if she’s hurt or…”

“Don’t say it…” Tommy pleads with the girl, so she nods.

Joel’s heart pounds in his ribcage. He is scared, to be honest. And he wants nothing but to grow wings so he can quickly find you.

“Is there any place you haven’t checked?” Joel asks, putting on his jacket. Ellie opens the closet near the entrance and grabs her and Joel’s emergency backpacks.

“There’s a cabin only Maria, the meds, and council know about…” Tommy reveals.

“And y/n too…”

“Yes, Ellie. It’s only for emergencies, hidden near a cliff, where the bushes grow wilder and perfect to disguise raiders and infected.”

“Where is the cabin exactly?” loading his rifle and grabbing more bullets, Joel asks to his brother.

“About an hour away from here. If you go now, you’ll make it before the night falls. I’ll check it in a map…” the man grabs the paper from his pocket, marking a red circle around the green area.

“There’s a lot of apple trees near the area. We collect from there every fall, once you start seeing rotten apples in the way, you’ll know you’re very close” Tommy says.

“Remember. We have a periwinkle ribbon hidden in the bushes. That’s the entrance. Be careful, Joel. And good luck, to the three of you…”

At that moment, Joel realized he would find you in a bad position or a terrible one he didn’t even want to imagine it.

But he was full of fate.

“She’s alive. Right, Joel?” Ellie asks once the gates of Jackson opened and the pair left in two horses.

“Of course she’s alive…” he confidently replies. But the pounding of his heart made him conscious of the anxiety he was feeling.

…

The woods howl with every sound of the wind pushing dry leaves around. So far Joel hadn’t used a single bullet. The way was clear. Only the fainted sounds of the waterfalls and the eco of the cliffs.

There were indeed a lot of apple trees. With the sun almost gone, the burgundy spheres hanging from the trees looked even more majestic.

“I guess we’re here…” Joel announced, putting his feet on the ground.

“Look for the periwinkle ribbon, Joel” the man nodded.

Sneaking his hands through the bushes, he could feel some thorns. At first glance, those bushes looked very intimidating. As if poison would suddenly leak from their tiny white flowers.

“Found it!” Joel didn’t get it, but when he tried to pull the ribbon, he lifted a whole branch attached to it.

“Holy shit!” Ellie gasped surprised to see that the bushes were actually very light.

“The horses can make it inside too. You go first…” Ellie nods, taking the lead.

Then followed Joel, leading his horse inside the property and then making sure the ribbon was completely hidden.

The Cabin was small, rustic, and surrounded by the same bushes and big rocks. It was strategically positioned where the pines and apple trees could disguise it.

“She’s here. Look…” Ellie says, pointing at your backpack and a rifle thrown on the stairs of the cabin.

“Stay back…” he indicated, firmly holding his rifle in case of anything.

Both went up the stairs and were notified the door was barely closed as if they had been in a rush. Joel opened the door slowly and when the view was granted, he saw you on the floor pointing at him with a small pistol.

“It’s okay, it’s just me and Ellie,” he said dropping and rifle and literally running towards you.

“Joel?” You ask looking at his barely distinguishable silhouette.

“I told you once. Don’t go where I can’t follow, darlin’…” he says, but you can’t hear him.

Ellie finally saw you and noticed you were sweating so much, panting for air. The skin of your neck looked between pink and lilac. For some seconds, she thought you had been bitten.

“You can’t breathe,” Joel noticed when you literally dropped your head against the wooden floor.

“J-Joel… My- ribs. It hurts…” you barely spoke and tears streamed down your cheeks. Your hand grasped his and didn’t want to let go.

“Shh… we’re here. I’m gonna take care of you”

Respectfully, Joel tore your long-sleeved top. You had a silk bra that looked very vintage but that wasn’t capturing all of Joel’s attention.

You had indeed swollen ribs. Your right side looked awful in comparison to the left one. There was also a small cut in your shoulder, but your ribs were painted in shades of red, purple, and blue.

The man turned to see the girl standing at the door. Ellie couldn’t hide it, she seemed scared, her eyes slightly teary.

“No tears, she’s gonna be okay. Now help me with the remedies and medicine we have” she nodded.

By the time Joel had finished putting ointments and giving a local spraying of anesthesia, you had completely fallen asleep. Ellie helped him to put a bandage around your ribs and the man carried you to a room that had a bed.

Joel took a brief glance at you and sighed in relief. You were alive, and your chances of survival were big. He just had to take care of you. Like he should have since the first time.

…

You wake up violently, quickly trying to sit down because you can’t remember anything. Your last memory was the raiders shooting and hitting you with his rifle, throwing you off of your horse.

“Hey, easy there!” you immediately stop, encountering Ellie beside you.

One thing was for sure; you felt amazing compared to the day before.

“What are you doing here?” She sighed.

“Patrol came back and you were missing. Since nobody could find you, Tommy suspected you were here. So Joel and I came…” your eyes closed in embarrassment. Blurred memories of them stepping inside the cabin, you pointing at them, telling Joel how bad you were in pain, and Ellie helping him to bandage you.

“Thank you.” She nods, but her lips get sealed, like she wants to say more but she’s unsure.

“I’m sorry.”

“You were the closest thing I had like family and Joel and I fucked up everything,” Ellie says looking away.

“When we’re grieving the past, we get so scared to mess up our present. Which makes us mad and terrified.” You tell her with a little smile.

And you also talk to yourself, because you were so hurt by how they treated you that it made you feel scared of getting hurt again by them.

“Joel said you needed time. But do you think you already have an answer about us being friends ever again?”

You can’t make a teenager beg for your forgiveness. Every single person you know has suffered. All have sacrificed something. And you didn’t want to grow old alone.

“Come here…” you tell her and in less than a second you have Ellie hugging you tightly.

“Wait… my ribs” she breaks off the contact, looking scared.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I-“

“Ellie, it’s okay…” you smile at her and she reciprocates it.

“Where’s Joel?”

“Patrolling around. She already signaled to Tommy we were fine. He also went to get something to eat. There’s nothing of food besides the bread and water we brought.”

“Oh…”

“Joel can be an asshole. After all, we both know him so well. But… give him a chance, please” Your smile grows. It makes you blush because Ellie sounds like she’s implying Joel had feelings for you.

Ever since you met him, you developed a crush on him. But he was a grumpy old man, he never showed any sign of romantic attraction towards you.

“I could give him a chance, but I think everyone has misinterpreted the way he feels for me,” you say, remembering how Sally implied the same time during the Halloween party.

“You know how Tommy looks at Maria?” You nod at her.

“That’s the same way Joel looks at you. And I’ve never experienced it, but I know that must be love”

Was the girl in the correct?

…

It’s already late when the need to get out of bed gets stronger. You took a very careful shower, and with every droplet of cold water that washed you, you also repeated every word Ellie said. You could easily admit you loved Joel. Even after everything. Because was there in the harder days out in the wild. You were a stranger he also carried wherever he was going. And always reminded you how strong you were.

“Ellie!” The girl appeared with her hair also wet.

“Can you help me go downstairs?. I want to help you with dinner” you said.

Ellie carefully grabbed your hands to help you stand from the bed. As soon as she opened the door, the smell of apples and cinnamon hit you.

“What are you cooking?” You asked her.

“Just apples with honey and cinnamon…”

“Smells really good, Ellie” she thanks you, paying extra attention as you walk down the stairs.

Just when you make it safely. The front door opened. Joel came in with a dead rabbit in his hands.

“You’re awake…” he said surprised.

“I am…” you reply feeling your face burn in red.

“How are you feeling?” He asks scratching the back of his head.

“Better. Thanks to both of you”

“It’s nothing”

Ellie can’t stop looking between you and the man. She has a little dorky smile and her heart beats in hopes you two can solve your problems.

“Can I skin that rabbit?” You ask him shyly. He looks down at the rabbit and then back at you.

“Let me do that. But if you feel okay, you can cook it” You nod, offering him a brief smile that takes him aback.

“Okay. I’ll wait for Ellie in the kitchen.”

Joel is shocked. Ellie has to go and pinch his ribs to take him down to earth again.

“Don’t mess it up.” She says.

“What?”

“I think we’re okay now. Talk to her tonight, please” he sighs but nods.

“Joel?” The girl asks.

“Hmm?”

“I think y/n feels the same way about you. But she doesn’t think you do.”

His heart beats softly but hurriedly. Joel has to hide his smile as Ellie walks away into the kitchen.

…

Dinner was quiet. Some words were exchanged. Mainly about your accident. You explained how the raiders ambushed you and your group. After gaining time for your partners to leave, there was nobody left to save you. A man hit your head with his rifle, then your ribs. You fell from your horse and barely noticed when the raiders left. Your body dragged itself towards the cabin, where all of your energy disappeared and your Brian processed the pain.

Thankfully, you had two saviors. Joel and Ellie appeared and saved your life.

The plan was to go back to Jackson the following morning. You agreed as long as your health lets you. Ellie helped you go upstairs again as Joel cleaned the dishes. You said good night to the girl and went to brush your teeth. By fortune, you always carried first necessity items in your backpack.

There is no electricity in the upper rooms. But there are tons of bottles of wine, soda, and old glasses with half-melted candles. It made it a little harder while showering. But after feeling clean, relaxed, and lonely, it brings a sense of peacefulness.

In the mirror, you encounter a woman whose body is tired but her mind is starting to feel at peace. You have decided that if Joel came knocking at the door, you would let the past go and you would focus on the present.

But your hopes die a little when an hour passes and you are still alone in the room.

And just when you’re about to give up, you hear it.

A knock on your door.

You encounter Joel with the same clothes he arrived with. However, his hair is slicked back and wet from the shower he took. You remain silent as he stares closely at you.

“Can we talk?” The man asks.

“Okay…”

You let him step inside. Joel sits on the little couch that faces the bed, and both of you stare in silence. There’s a distant howling from coyotes or jackals near the area. But then, you only pay attention to Joel. He continuously moved his hands and tried to speak up but couldn’t.

“Ellie said you and her are okay,” he says and you nod, avoiding his gaze. You hear him sigh.

“If I had accepted sooner how important you are to me, I would’ve given you the whole night to tell me why you couldn’t come with Ellie and me to Salt Lake” he starts, bringing you back to the night where the doctor of Jackson told you your body was full of anemia. That if you went out to the wild again, you’d likely suffer a breakdown.

“I would’ve understood, I would’ve told you I’d be back. But I didn’t because… I guess I got scared, I was convinced you were abandoning Ellie. But mostly me… I got used to having you in my life. And thought you wanted to take separate ways as soon as you discovered you could have a better life in Jackson”

“I started to feel dizzy that day. If I hadn’t felt anything, I wouldn’t visited the doctor and I would have gone with you and Ellie” you admit looking at the melting candles.

Joel feels a little worse. But it only makes him even more eager to stand up and walk towards you.

You witness how he goes down to his knees with difficulty, knowing his bones are tired. It takes you aback when he grabs your hands and gives you the softest look.

“I’m sorry. For everything. When I saw you were back, so full of life and willing to keep explaining to us what happened, I kept acting like an asshole. That’s not what a man does to the woman he’s in love with…”

You quickly look at his eyes again, trying to see if what he said was true or not. He briefly smiled, tender to see the way you reacted.

“I probably won’t stop saying I’m sorry until I have you by my side every morning and every night. ‘Cause if want thing has thought me, Ellie, is that I have to express my feelings. So I’ll do it, I’m in love with you and I’m sorry”

You are near tears when he says that, Joel only squeezes your hands softly, but you break the contact only to pull him towards you in a big hug.

“The moment I saw you came with Ellie through the door of this cabin, I knew I didn’t want to lose my little family. I’ve been trying to be strong but the truth is that I need you, Joel” his cheek touches yours and you feel the warmth of his skin. Any trace of uncertainty is gone. Only he could have taken and brought back your happiness.

“I need you too, darlin’”

He kisses you, so soft, so simple. You barely pay attention to the rain that suddenly started pouring. Joel slowly stands up and you lean back on the bed. His kisses were addicting even when you just met them seconds ago. But you take the lead by moving your lips down south, marking traces on his chin, towards his jaw. It is there when Joel lets out the first moan. But he suddenly stops

“Wait, y/n, I don’t want to hurt you. Your ribs aren’t completely healed. And-“

“Joel… If I kept going, it’s because I can. And because I want to…” you say before capturing his lips in another kiss.

“Is Ellie asleep?” You add. Joel chuckles.

“You know she snores loudly. Listen…” Both of you remain quiet and the distant snores of the girl can be heard, which makes you giggle.

First, he undresses you and makes sure to heavenly explore your most intimate areas with his tongue. Then he takes off his clothes and worships your body in the most perfect way he could possibly do it.

“I love you, Joel” it spills out of your lips with honesty. Between thrusts and gasps for air, he makes time to answer you.

“I love you too.”

For the rest of the night, his hands are in your body. And until the morning, remain there…

….

The rays of the sun wake you up by directly targeting your eyes. But when you open them, they’re gone. Is a cloudy morning, and there’s a big pair of warm hands securely around your stomach.

The need to stretch is suddenly gone when you remember what happened last night. How good Joel made it clear you were the woman he wanted, his caresses, kisses, and everything. You can’t help but smile and snuggle closer to him.

“Mornin’…” Joel says with a raspy voice, without you noticing he had woken up.

“Hey…” you reply deciding to face him.

It feels odd to see an unworried Joel after months of being witness to his sleep deprivation, his inability to eat because he preferred to make sure you and Ellie did first, etc.

“Is there anything on my face? Or what’s with the starin’, sweetheart?” Your face goes hot, but there is no point in hiding your thoughts.

“I just… I never thought we would end up in this position. We were practically strangers once…”

“You said it, y/n. Once…” he replies, pulling you closer.

“I guess I’m just not used to this side of you…” Joel smirks, then chuckles. To be fair, he isn’t used to seeing you in such an intimate way. He knows there are many things left to learn from each other, but he knows nothing will change the way he feels.

“Look, after saying out loud how I feel about you… there’s nothin’ else to run away from, baby. I’m an old man who’s tired but feels like a teenager when it comes to you” Your heart melts from tenderness. You can’t help but kiss his chin.

“I’ll make sure to take care of you. There’s literally a whole life waiting for you, Joel. You’re not that old, dear” he smiles, nodding before resting one arm behind his head and the other snaking around you.

“Are we gonna tell Ellie?” You add, stretching on the bed.

“Let’s be real, she already knew before us.” Both of you laugh, smiling at each other like two idiots. The girl had constantly shared silly comments about you two being too close while dinner in the middle of nowhere, or how needy Joel looked about asking you to share a sleeping bag with him.

“She seemed excited about us talking…” Joel nods, sitting on the bed, stretching and making his bones crack a little.

“Glad we did more than talk” you gently push the man, making him chuckle a little.

“We should start heading towards Jackson by now…” you say looking that the sun was coming out again.

“Right. But… let’s say it one more time, please. So it’s… officially real” There was the insecure man you knew.

A little smile perks in your mouth as you crawl back towards him.

“We’re together now, wherever the tides take us…” he kisses you abruptly.

It was real. Coming back to Jackson meant closing a chapter, and starting a new one. And both of you knew it was going to be happier. And possibly… forever.

_______________________________________

Thank u to all the humans that waited almost A YEAR for this second part :)

Taglist:

@o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi

@orcasoul

@liciafonseca

@wanniiieeee

@joelmillersblog

#pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel x reader #the last of us x reader

57 notes · View notes