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valentina-writes · 1 month ago

Text

ovulation

Azriel x reader

kinda a part 2 to this

summary: it's your first time ovulating as a fae and your mate Azriel is more than happy to satiate the need within you

genre: smut!!! | words: 3.7k | masterlist

warnings: 18+, pwp (not even a sliver of plot), smut, piv, oral (f receiving), wingplay, creampie, the breeding kink goes hard in this one, slight exhibitionism, cumplay, ovulation (duh)

Smut! Only proceed if you're 18+. Minors dni

A/N: Here it is, sorry for the confusion earlier! I have no words to excuse this unhinged piece of filth, except that I'm sorry it's not longer ;) Don't ask me how I came up with it. Maybe this is the last time I'm writing smut, cause honestly? I think I've peaked with this.

Sweat was glistening all over Azriel's torso. The sun caught the droplets at just the right angle. It looked almost like he had a faint glimmer to him as he was sparring with Rhys. His toned abs were a sight for sore eyes, the way they flexed as he put his weight into a punch directed at the high lord. But Rhys was fast and dodged the attack. The males circled one another, waiting for a moment of weakness to strike again.

Had Azriel's back always been so muscular? Did it look like this as well when he wasn't tackling his brother, but instead bending you over and fucking you? Azriel looked so wild, so carefree in the heat of the moment. His big wings unfolded halfway as he landed his first punch in Rhys's face. And you couldn't help the shudder that went through your body at the sight of your mate and thought about how he would –

"...and then he – Y/N, are you even listening to me?" Feyre waved a hand in front of your face to win back your attention.

"What? I mean sure I am". You were perched on a bank, observing your mates sparring. Shirtless. You had no idea who was winning. The only thing you noticed was the way your mate's biceps flexed and how the sun hit his perfectly sculpted chest –

"Hey! You're practically mind-fucking him. What's going on with you? This is so unlike you". A blush crept over your face. But the wetness in your panties only intensified when a breeze hit your nostrils that carried the shadowsinger's scent. And a strange heat settled in your abdomen.

You were already half out of your seat before you realized you had stood up in hopes of clawing the pants off Azriel right there. "Oh Gods, of course", Feyre laughed, "I think you're ovulating". Azriel's head whipped around to you so fast he should've broken his neck. He stared at you, wide eyed and whatever he saw in you had his eyes darkening and a blush appearing at his neck. A moment of weakness Rhys used to hit him square in the face.

The hiss you shot at Rhysand was inhumane, animalistic almost and maybe you would've tried to tackle him, if your mate hadn't immediately stood up again and walked towards you with a grin on his bloody lips and looked so sexy you contemplated having a wagon-load of winged babies.

"Did he hurt you?". You brought your hand up to his face, your fingertips lightly grazing the small wound. Your mate shook his head no and, for some reason, Rhys was chuckling somewhere behind you. Your finger stilled at his upper lip. You took him in now, close up. His dishevelled hair, the sweat mixing with dirt and blood made him so masculine, so attractive your knees nearly buckled.

"You looked so hot fighting like this", you breathed. Rhys wheezed before laughing out loudly. But your mate drew you into a hug and whispered into your ear: "I could smell you all across the training ring". Your hands grasped his arms to stabilize yourself. Your heart hammered inside your chest and the burning desire between your thighs got unbearable.

Azriel turned his head towards the others. "Did you tell her what it would be like? Does she know? I don't want to take advantage of her like this". As if on cue, you moved your hand down his front, down the delicious muscles and to his pants that hid his manhood. And then you brushed over his half-hard length firmly, fumbling to open his pants. Azriel's scarred hands clutched your waist tightly and a small gasp left his lips.

"She does", Feyre was nearly crying from laughing, "besides I think it's her who's taking advantage of you, not the other way around".

"Azzie", you begged, unable to open his pants while he held you so close, "I need you. I love you so much. You're so sexy. And it... it hurts".

Concern etched on his face. "My love, where does it hurt?". Deep inside you, straight at your core.

"I can show you". Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were screaming at yourself to get it together, but it was like all your senses were attuned to him. Like every filter had been removed, when you grabbed his hand and tried to shove it down your own pants while simultaneously tracing the whirls of the tattoo on his chest with your tongue.

"Get a room, for Cauldron's sake", Rhys bellowed and your mate grimaced at your antics.

Azriel grabbed you by your arm, the world turned dark around you and all of a sudden you were in your bedroom, hanging onto Az.

"My mate is so strong and powerful", you grinned. "And so hot and so big". He choked on plain air when you palmed him through his pants again. You whimpered. He was fully hard now, straining against his confines. "So big", you repeated and stroked him through his pants. A growl left Azriel's lips and his lips crashed onto yours in a passionate kiss. Your blood was boiling, clothes too tight on your body and his naked skin drove you insane. Every thought left your brain as you touched every inch of his body you could reach and pulled him to the bed, on top of you without breaking the kiss. You were starving and the only remedy were his lips and his tongue that were just as desperate as your own. Only when you were gasping for air, did Azriel move his kisses down to your neck.

"It hurts, Az"

"I know, baby. I'll take care of you. But you've been a bad girl, my love. Very bad". He panted. Dark tendrils of shadows slipped around your waists and ankles, binding them to the bed.

"First, you smell so delicious you make me lose against Rhys". He pressed a hot kiss to your neck, flicking the delicate skin with his tongue. A loud moan escaped you and you thrashed against the shadows holding you in place. "Then you try to get me to fuck you right in front of my brother". He took truth-teller and cut across your shirt and bra before throwing the knife away and latching onto your now freed hard nipple. It took everything within you to not come undone then and there. "And then you touch me and almost make me cum in my pants even though you want it so much, don't you?" He rolled his hips against yours once, against the powerful bundle of nerves.

"I can't help it", you replied breathlessly, "I – fuck – I need you".

His tongue circled your nipple. "Hmm... use your words. Where do you need me? I'll make you feel better" The shadows snaked up your legs now and smoothly pulled off your pants, leaving only your panties that were so wet the fabric clung to you like a second skin. Azriel kissed all over your breasts. "Here?" You shook your head. His kisses wandered further down, stopping near your bellybutton. "Here?". Vehemently, you shook your head again. "Hmm... where else?", he teased. You wanted to grab him and lead him, but the shadows wouldn't let you. Azriel chuckled softly and his mouth moved down again, agonizingly slowly towards where you needed him most. Your body was ablaze, writhing against the shadows that bound you. At the seam of your panties he stopped, breathing you in. "Gods, you smell divine". A hungry expression grazed his eyes. His nose pressed into your clothed crotch and he inhaled deeply, groaning. Azriel pressed a kiss right there, making you keen. "Do you need me here?".

A shadow caressed your cheek lightly. "Yes, right there". A wicked gleam showed in his eyes. He pressed a kiss to your still clothed sex that had you chasing his touch. You could only see his dark hair when he kissed your thighs, higher and higher, until he reached delicate skin next to your panties, soaked with arousal. By now, you were reduced to a whining mess, the only word leaving your mouth his name. You couldn't see what he was doing, your view obscured by his big wings, but the next moment, air hit your cunt and he had a ripped piece of fabric hanging from his grinning lips. Your heart skipped a beat and you moaned out in delight. Azriel had ripped your panties off with his teeth.

Azriel pressed light kisses to your folds, and then licked through them up to your clit in one slow motion.

"So wet for me". And then he ate you like you were his last meal. With deliberate strokes of his tongue, he gathered your moisture and greedily swallowed it all. His tongue dove into your waiting hole, a hand moved up to grasp your breast and with every lick, your mate's nose hit your clit at just the right angle. He was thrusting against the mattress now, you realized wirh a shudder. It was too much.

"Come on my tongue. Let go for me", he panted between licks. He thrust his tongue deeply inside and you came hard, screaming out his name and fell limp to the mattress. He helped you ride out your orgasm, drinking up every drop of moisture. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, but the pain in your womb hadn't receded. If anything the searing ache had only intensified.

"You're so pretty when you cum". Azriel kissed you softly on your lips and this small affection had you arching up against him again.

"Fuck, Az. I need more of you"

Calloused fingers ghosted against your clit and then slipped downwards, circling your entrance.

"My pretty girl can take another one, can't you? For making a fool out of me infront of Rhys". But he didn't look angry at all with his wide smile and blown out pupils as two fingers slipped inside you and curled against your walls.

The stretch and the textured feeling of his scarred fingers was oh so welcome and you greedily leaned into him, but it just wasn't enough. It just wasn't his rock-hard cock that lay against your thigh now, promising pleasure beyond anything you had ever felt.

You stroked lightly against the shadows binding you to the bed. They purred at your touch, turned soft and pliant. Enough so that they allowed you to move. Without wasting precious time, your hand shot out and stroked his wing, found the big vein right next to the main bone. Azriel shuddered above you and dropped his head onto your chest, his hand stilled within you. Slowly, you traced the vein and then the strong tendons next to it. His wing was limp in your hands, dropping half-opened to the bed and Azriel collapsed on top of you. He groaned deeply into your neck, making your toes curl and you nearly came from the sound alone. He humped against your leg, his cock now so hard it was throbbing through his pants, desperate for any friction. Another light touch of your fingertips against the delicate membrane and he bit your neck softly, growling.

Cold air whipped over your arm and ripped it off his wing, bringing it back to its original position. Azriel shot up and knelt over you and you couldn't help the whine that escaped you at the loss of contact.

"You can play later. For as long as you want", his chest was moving rapidly with his strained breaths, "but not yet"

"I can't help it. I need to feel you and touch you. I need your cock inside me and –"

He ripped his pants off, freeing his hard length that slapped against his abdomen. Its head was an angry shade of red, leaking precum all over. His veins stood out prominently against the soft skin and you swore it pulsed harder the more you looked at it. The ache inside you intensified, saliva pooled in your mouth and you were sure if you didn't get him inside you right now you'd die.

"I wanted to prepare you for me". He was shaking, restraining himself from taking you right then and there. His eyes wandered down to your waiting cunt, clenching and dripping around nothing, and the look on his face became predatory. "Do you think you're ready for me?" It was laughable, the way you thrashed against his shadows, your arousal so evident in the wetness pooling between your thighs and the hunger for his cock. You felt painfully empty, an ache deep inside you that you knew only he could cure.

"Please. Fuck me already. I need you, please", you whined. And the last sliver of your sanity went flying out of the window at your begging.

He was above you again so fast you didn't even see his movement. His hot tip slid through your folds, nudging against your clit in a deliciously devastating way that had you seeing stars. Azriel coated himself in your wetness and then stopped, his tip right at your entrance. You bucked your hips forward in annoyance, but he held you in place firmly.

There was little restraint left in his voice when he asked: "How do you want it?". The big wings at his back were trembling.

What a stupid fucking question. "Hard"

You didn't need to tell him twice. With a fast movement, he entered you and pushed all the way inside in one hard thrust. Azriel's eyes rolled back and you cried out in ecstasy. The way he filled you so completely, stretching you with a delicious burn around his hard length made the need for him even worse.

"So wet and ready for me. You take me so well", he whispered and thrust hard once. You tugged at the shadows again, but they wouldn't budge this time. "Such a needy little princess". Another thrust, hitting a spot that made you see stars. "I love the way you feel around me. Always so perfect". His eyes darkened as he looked down upon your naked body. "Hold on tight". He grabbed one of your legs and spread you wider, allowing him to settle even deeper inside you, taking your breath away. And then he fucked you roughly into the mattress. He set a rough and punishing pace, his hands wrapped so tight around your waist they would leave bruises. His cock hit all the right spots inside you and every thought except for him left your mind.

The moans that escaped you were beyond shameless. Again and again, you tried to arch up into him, but the shadows wouldn't let you. Your eyes met his and the love he put into this look was enough to send you ober the edge, crying out his name.

He stopped inside you without pulling out. "Do you feel better?". All you could register was the hard length still buried inside you up to his balls, throbbing and twitching. You shook your head.

"No? What more does my princess need?". Azriel's mouth latched back onto your breast, sucking and kissing the hardened nub and you felt yourself getting impossibly wetter by the second. "I need – fuck – I need – your – cum", you gasped with each flick of his tongue.

A deep groan sounded from him and it was music in your ears.

"Want me to come inside you? Fill you up with my seed?". He pressed a hand to your abdomen, right were he was nestled inside you and you bucked your hips against him.

"Yes. Please – don't pull out"

Azriel dropped down on you again with almost all his weight. It was pure torture having him so close and not being able to touch him.

"Breed me, Az"

Something inside him snapped at your words. He started moving again, thrusting harder and faster than before. Moans escaped his lips, mingling with your own.

The shadows relaxed their pull around you. You flung your legs around his waist, allowing him to go in even deeper. And your hands shot up straight to his bag, fingers clawing at his hard muscles. Azriel growled deeply into your ear.

"Want me to breed you?"

"Yes", you moaned, nodding frantically. He was almost there, his thrusts grew sloppy and impatient. The throbbing of his cock against your cervix the most beautiful thing you had ever felt.

"See how deep I am?" The fingers of his hand pressed to your abdomen flexed right where a bulge formed with every thrust. All you could do was nod weakly, your eyes rolling back. "Feels so good"

"This cock is yours". Your hands threaded into his hair and pulled him down to your lips. Shadows flew down to your clit and started nipping at it. "My seed is yours", he whispered against your lips.

With a strong twitch, he came inside you, hot ropes of his thick cum spurted out of him, right where you needed it the most. There was a lot of it, warmth spreading deep inside you. He kept moving, his cum squelching obscenely and the feeling of him and his seed right against your womb, the shadows working your clit perfectly, had you convulsing around him in a hard climax.

Azriel buried his face in the crook of your neck. The mating bond between you glowed in a familiar light and you felt the love radiating off him.

"Did I hurt you, baby?", he asked breathlessly.

"No. I loved it". You shuddered. There was semen dripping out of you now and you hated every drop that was wasted.

"Do you feel better?"

He tried to withdraw, but you kept him from escaping by pulling him further in with your legs around his hips.

"Not enough", you complained, out of breath, "need more of you". The burning inside your womb had died down by a fraction, but you weren't satisfied yet. Your body needed more of him, even though you could already feel him softening inside you.

"You're insatiable. Like a desperate little slut, begging for my cock to fill you up".

Azriel's lips found your neck, licking, kissing and biting until you were reduced to a whining mess below him again.

"Wait a bit, I'm not ready to go again"

But you couldn't wait. He let you roll him over onto his back with you sitting astride him. Azriel's hands gripped your hips and there was nothing but love in his gaze. Cum ran out of your cunt and dripped into his short pubic hair, onto his thighs and the sheets. Your pussy pulsed at the sight.

You dipped your fingers into his cum and brought it to your mouth to taste him. The slightly salty aroma made you moan on your fingers. And Gods, he was so sexy below you, his chest still glistening with sweat, the illyrian tattoo and his toned abs, the absolutely fucked-out look on his face. You knew exactly what to do.

Both of your hands found his neatly folded wings. You stroked all over the membranes, unfolded the wings to reach the better hidden spots that he loved the most. And he just let you.

He grew harder inside you by the second. Not long, and you were circling your hips, sliding slowly up and down his cock, slick with arousal and cum.

You got off on the sight of him, completely at your mercy. With each deliberate touch of yours, his wings trembled under your fingertips and his cock throbbed inside you.

"You're so hot like this", you gasped as you rode him slowly, "I want to fuck you until your balls are empty and I'm full of you".

You brushed against the main veins of his wings. A full-body shudder went through him, his gaze turned clear, and the next moment, he had you face down, ass up in the air and entered you from behind, making you scream.

"Fuck, that's better", he groaned, "Didn't I say it's time for wings later?". You only mewled, the new angle bringing a foreign stretch and deep penetration.

You were close to orgasm again

"But my girl needs more of my seed, right? You need to milk me dry?". He underlined his words with a deep roll of his hips and then stilled, his hands at your hips to keep you from bucking your hips back at him.

The words tumbled from your lips like a prayer. "Fuck yes. Please, Az"

With one sharp movement, he started pistoning in and out of you again, his balls slapping rhythmically against your clit.

"You're perfect like this, taking me so well".

His pace was relentless, each thrust shoving you deeper into the pillows.

"Come for me again, love". Azriel's fingers found your clit, rubbing slow circles. Your climax ripped through you with a force that had you screaming his name. You clenched around him trembling.

One more thrust, until he was buried deeply inside you, his tip nestled directly against your cervix, and he found his release with a roar that had the bed shaking. Warmth spread inside you once again, straight to were you needed it.

He pressed a kiss to your back and pulled out of you. A small river of his cum trickled down your thighs. Your pussy felt sore, but the ache was gone and so was the fog in your mind.

Azriel pulled you tightly against him, laying down.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Is it better now?".

A blush crept over your cheeks at the thought of how wanton you had been only minutes ago. The things you had said, for Cauldron's sake. You hoped Rhys and Feyre had at least left the house before you started. There was no way you'd be able to look anyone into the eye again if they'd heard that. Not to mention the embarrassment you felt towards your mate. The way you had begged for his cum.

"Yes. Is it over now?"

A grin settled on his face. "If you're lucky, it'll be over in a few days".

You hid your face in your hands. "A few days? Oh Gods, I'm so sorry for how I behaved. For what I said. That was so –" Embarrassing? Humiliating? Shameful?

"That was really hot", he said softly and took your hands off your face, "that was probably the best sex I've ever had and, judging by the sounds you made –" you wanted to die on the spot "– and how you begged for more, I think you liked it too. Nothing to be ashamed of. It's instinct, you can't control it". A peck on your nose had you smiling again.

"I know, but still". He stared at you, disbelieving. "Okay, fine. I loved it. And it doesn't sound too bad to have you fucking me like that for the next couple of days"

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel imagine #azriel smut #azriel x reader smut #azriel x you #azriel x f!reader #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfic

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inseobts · 2 months ago

Note

Idk if u do request but can you do Scary reader x One piece men? Law, Shanks, Sabo, Ace, Croc, The monster trio & whoever else you want! Basically the reader is really scary but {{char}} finds their scariness attractive.

Attractive Scariness

a/n: sorry but at some point I got out of ideas lmao

characters: luffy, zoro, sanji, law, ace, shanks, sabo and crocodile

words count: around 0.4k - 0.9k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Monkey D. Luffy:

You’re used to fear.

The wide eyes, the shaky hands, the people stumbling over themselves to get away, etc. It’s always the same. Ever since you ate your Devil Fruit, people have called you a monster. Even when you’re not fighting, your presence alone makes people nervous.

So when you land on this island and step into a small village, you already expect the usual reaction.

And you get it.

The streets clear as soon as you walk in. The market stalls empty. Even the shopkeepers pretend not to see you.

You sigh.

“Again?” you mutter “I just want some food…”

You’re about to turn around when someone doesn’t run. A boy in a red vest and a straw hat stands right in front of you, grinning like he doesn’t even notice how scary you are.

No. He notices. He just doesn’t care.

“Whoa!” he exclaims, eyes shining “You’re super strong, huh?”

You blink “What?”

“I can tell!” He nods, completely sure of himself “Strong people have this feeling about them. And you feel really strong!”

You stare at him. That’s… new. No “stay away from me” or “please don’t kill me.” Just pure excitement.

Luffy tilts his head “What’s your power?”

You hesitate. Usually, this is the part where people scream. But he’s looking at you like a kid waiting for a magic trick.

You raise your hand. A shadow swirls around your fingers, shifting like smoke. The air around you grows heavy, dark, unnatural.

Luffy gasps.

“That’s so cool!”

“…Huh?”

“You can control shadows? Or darkness? Or... wait, is it nightmares?” He’s practically bouncing “Can you do giant shadow hands? Or make yourself super big? Or—”

You blink at him “You’re… not scared?”

Luffy grins wider “Why would I be? You’re awesome!”

This has never happened before. Ever. You don’t know what to do.

Then Luffy grabs your wrist “Hey, join my crew!”

Your brain short-circuits “What?”

“I’m Luffy! I’m gonna be King of the Pirates, and I need strong people on my crew. And you’re really strong!”

You open your mouth, then close it. You look at him, at his bright, careless smile, at the way he’s just standing there, holding onto your wrist like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Like you’re just a person.

Not a monster.

“…You’re weird” you say.

Luffy laughs “People tell me that a lot.”

You stare at him for a long moment. Then, for the first time in forever, you smile.

“…Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll join you.”

Luffy cheers, throwing his fists in the air “Yes! This is gonna be awesome!”

You have no idea what you’ve just signed up for. But for once, you don’t feel like a nightmare.

You just feel like you.

Years have passed since you met Luffy. Since he grabbed your wrist, called you strong, and changed your life without even trying.

Back then, you weren’t sure what you were getting into. Now, you know.

Being with Luffy means chaos. It means waking up to find him hanging upside down from the ship’s mast, laughing like it’s normal. It means fighting beside him, watching him charge straight at danger without fear—because he trusts you to have his back.

It means love.

A love that is loud and wild, but also simple. Easy. Because Luffy has never been afraid of you. Not then, not now.

Right now, you’re on an island, sitting in the shade while the crew runs around. The villagers are keeping their distance, just like always. Even after all these years, people still fear you.

But it doesn’t matter anymore.

Because across the field, Luffy is waving at you, smiling so wide it makes your chest feel warm. He doesn’t care that people avoid you. He doesn’t care that you’re “scary”, to him, you’re just you.

He runs over, plopping down next to you with a grin “Whatcha doin’?”

You raise an eyebrow “Sitting.”

Luffy gasps dramatically “No way. That’s crazy.”

You snort, shoving his shoulder. He just laughs, leaning against you without a care in the world.

For a while, you sit there together. The sun is warm, the breeze is nice, and Luffy is… Luffy. He hums a little song under his breath, playing with your fingers like he’s fascinated by them.

Then, he says “You know, you’re kinda scary.”

You pause “Oh?”

He nods “Yeah. Like, super scary. When you fight, people freak out. Even Zoro said you’re the last person he’d wanna fight seriously.”

You wait for the usual words to follow. Monster. Freak. Too much.

But instead, Luffy grins and squeezes your hand.

“I love it.”

Your heart stops for a second.

Luffy keeps talking, like he hasn’t just turned your entire world upside down “It’s awesome! You’re so strong, and you do that cool shadowy thing, and when you get serious, even the bad guys look like they’re gonna cry.” He laughs, eyes shining “It’s really cool.”

You don’t answer right away. Because what is there to say?

For so long, your power was a curse. Something that made you different. Something that made you alone.

But here, with Luffy, it’s just another part of you.

“…You’re an idiot” you mumble, looking away.

Luffy laughs “Yeah, but you love me.”

You roll your eyes “Unfortunately.”

He gasps “What?!”

You shove his face away, and he just laughs harder, wrapping his arms around you like an octopus. He clings to you, laughing and warm, and you sigh, pretending to be annoyed.

But the truth is, you wouldn’t trade this for anything.

Because you are strong. And scary. And Luffy loves it.

And that is more than enough.

── .✦ Roronoa Zoro:

Zoro knows strength when he sees it.

He can sense it in the way people move, in the way they breathe. Some fighters hesitate, some carry doubt, but you don’t.

From the moment he meets you, he can tell. You don’t just fight. You hunt. And for some reason, he can’t take his eyes off you.

It starts on an island known for its warriors. The crew stops to rest, but Zoro wants a challenge. A real fight. So when he hears rumors of a swordsfighter so deadly that even bounty hunters avoid them, he doesn’t hesitate.

But when he finds you, it’s not what he expects.

You’re not some old master or a towering brute. You’re just… you. Sitting under a tree, sharpening your blade like you have all the time in the world.

Zoro stops a few feet away, arms crossed “You’re the one they’re all scared of?”

You glance up. Your eyes are sharp, your aura heavy, and for a second, it’s like the temperature drops.

Zoro grins. Oh, yeah. This is gonna be good.

You sigh, standing up “You here to fight me too?”

He smirks “Yeah. Unless you’re scared.”

Something flickers in your gaze, something dark and dangerous. Then you smile, slow and sharp “You’ll regret that.”

And then you move.

It happens fast. One second, you’re standing still. The next, your own blade is inches from his neck. Zoro barely blocks in time, his instincts the only thing keeping his head attached.

His blood rushes.

You don’t fight like normal swordsfighters. Your movements are smooth, calculated, but there’s something more. Something predatory.

Zoro grins “Not bad.”

You tilt your head “Not bad?”

And then you attack for real.

The clash of steel echoes through the trees. Zoro meets each strike, but he can feel the difference in the way you fight. You don’t waste movement. You don’t test him. You go straight for the kill.

Most people would find that terrifying.

Zoro finds it hot as hell.

His smirk widens “You don’t hold back, huh?”

You don’t answer, but there’s something in your eyes... curiosity, maybe. Like you’re testing him.

Good. He likes a challenge.

The fight goes on, fast and brutal, but in the end, neither of you go all out. It’s just a taste, a promise of something more. When you finally lower your blade, Zoro does the same.

You study him for a moment, then nod “You’re not bad either.”

Zoro huffs a laugh “High praise.”

You sheath your sword and turn away “I’m going back to town. You coming or what?”

He watches you go, smirking to himself.

Yeah. He’s definitely interested.

Years Later – Zoro should probably be concerned that his partner is one of the most terrifying people he’s ever met.

But he’s not.

In fact, it just makes him like you more.

Right now, you’re standing on the deck of the Sunny, staring down a group of bounty hunters dumb enough to challenge you. You haven’t even drawn your sword yet, but the way you look at them, sharp, unreadable, deadly, makes them hesitate.

Zoro leans against the railing, watching with amusement. He already knows how this will go.

One of the bounty hunters shifts nervously “Y-you gonna fight or what?”

You tilt your head, smiling faintly “You first.”

There’s a moment of hesitation. Then they charge. Big mistake.

Zoro watches as you dodge effortlessly, your blade a blur. The fight lasts seconds. By the time you sheath your sword, your opponents are on the ground, groaning in pain.

Silence. Then, Luffy cheers from the mast “That was awesome!”

Zoro smirks. Damn right it was.

You turn to him, raising an eyebrow “You just gonna watch?”

He shrugs with a smirk “I was enjoying watching... and didn’t wanna get in your way.”

You walk over, stopping in front of him “You’re getting lazy.”

He scoffs “Oh yeah?”

You lean in, voice low “Yeah. Maybe I should fight you next.”

Zoro feels a familiar rush of excitement. His hand twitches toward his swords “You sure you can keep up?”

You smirk “Try me.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

Lost in you, in the fight, in the thrill of having someone who meets him blow for blow.

You’re terrifying. And beautiful. And stronger than hell.

And he wouldn’t have you any other way.

── .✦ Vinsmoke Sanji:

Sanji has seen all kinds of people. Beautiful women, powerful warriors, even actual monsters. But he’s never met anyone like you.

You meet in a quiet, dimly lit tavern. The crew stops for a meal, and Sanji, always on the lookout for interesting faces, notices you immediately.

You sit in the darkest corner, barely touching your drink. Your posture is relaxed, but there’s something wrong about it, like you could strike at any moment. The air around you feels heavy.

People glance at you and quickly look away. A group of bounty hunters at a nearby table seem tense, whispering among themselves.

Sanji watches as one of them inches toward the door. His hands are shaking.

That’s when he realizes, they’re afraid of you. A lot.

Sanji takes a slow drag of his cigarette. Interesting.

“Hey cook, what are you doing there, standing like an idiot.” Zoro says while they all sit at a table.

He’s about to turn back to his crew and reply to that marimo when the bartender makes a mistake and accidentally spills a drink on your sleeve.

The entire tavern stops breathing.

The bartender goes pale “I—I’m so sorry—”

You say nothing. You don’t even look at him. Just slowly, carefully, you pick up a napkin and wipe your sleeve.

The silence stretches.

Sanji almost laughs at how scared everyone looks. What, do they think you’re gonna kill him for a drink spill?

The bartender swallows “Please, let me—”

“It’s fine” you say.

Your voice is quiet. Smooth. Too calm.

The bartender flinches anyway.

Sanji watches as you set the napkin down, push your drink away, and stand. You turn toward the door, and the crowd parts around you, everyone desperate to get out of your way.

Sanji, curious as hell, does the exact opposite.

He steps into your path, smiling “Leaving so soon?”

You stop and lift your gaze, as everyone there gasps.

Most people can’t meet Sanji’s eyes for long. His confidence, his sharpness, it makes them squirm. But you?

You stare right through him.

For the first time in a long time, Sanji feels his heart skip.

“…Who are you?” he asks.

You tilt your head slightly “Does it matter?”

That voice. Calm. Slow. Like a knife dragging against silk.

Sanji exhales smoke, smirking “I’d like to think so.”

You study him. And for some reason, he feels like he’s the one being hunted.

Then you smile, small, unreadable “See you around… cook.”

And just like that, you’re gone.

Sanji stands there, heart pounding as he thinks, oh, I’m in trouble.

Years Later – Sanji likes to think he doesn’t scare easy. He’s faced warlords, monsters, and the wrath of Nami’s fist.

But nothing terrifies him more than the way you just appear.

“Sanji.”

“GAH—!”

He jumps, nearly dropping the plate he’s holding. You’re suddenly right next to him, quiet as a shadow.

He clutches his chest “How do you do that?!”

You blink “Do what?”

“That!” He gestures at you wildly “I didn’t hear you at all! You just—just materialized!”

You tilt your head, amused “I walked in.”

“No, you haunted in.”

You hum in thought “Maybe you should pay more attention.”

Sanji groans, running a hand through his hair “You’re gonna kill me one day, I swear.”

“Wouldn’t be much fun,” you say, smirking slightly “I’d miss this.”

Sanji pauses. Then, with a slow, dramatic sigh, he pulls you into a hug.

You stiffen at first, but he’s patient. He knows you’re not used to softness.

When you relax, he kisses the top of your head “You’re cruel, y’know that?”

“Am I?”

“You make my heart stop every damn day.”

You smile against his chest “Good.”

── .✦ Trafalgar D. Law:

Law prides himself on being composed. No matter the situation, he never loses control.

But then he meets you, and for the first time in a long time, he feels something close to unease.

It happens on a stormy night. The Heart Pirates dock at a quiet island, and Law sets off alone, drawn by rumors of a dangerous individual hiding in town. Some say you’re a ghost, others call you a demon.

He doesn’t believe in superstition. But he believes in threats.

So when he finds you in the ruins outside of town, standing perfectly still, eyes dark and unreadable, he watches you carefully.

“You’ve been causing trouble” he says, testing your reaction.

You don’t move. Don’t speak. The wind howls through the ruins, but you remain as still as a statue.

Most people shift under his gaze. But you? You don’t even blink.

Law narrows his eyes “Who are you?”

Finally, you tilt your head “You already know, don’t you?”

Your voice is calm. Steady. Wrong.

It reminds him of the quiet before a scalpel slices skin.

Law tightens his grip on Kikoku “What’s your ability?”

You step forward, and the ground cracks beneath your foot. A shadow flickers at the edge of his vision, stretching unnaturally.

“Does it matter?” you ask.

Law doesn’t flinch. But something deep in his chest tightens.

Because he knows that feeling. The quiet hum of danger.

And yet, instead of fear, he feels something else. Intrigue. He's actually really attracted and he can't deny it.

It takes Law a while to notice. To really notice.

Because you’re fearless in battle. You fight like a force of nature, silent and merciless, the kind of presence that makes enemies pray they don’t cross your path. You don’t just win fights, you end them.

And yet, when you’re with the crew, you’re… different.

Law catches it in small moments.

The way you ruffle Bepo’s fur when you think no one’s looking. The way you always make sure Penguin and Shachi get extra food after a long day. The way you quietly fix things around the ship before anyone else notices they’re broken.

And he feels it most with him. Like when you sit beside him in the submarine’s dimly lit halls, comfortable in silence, just existing next to him without expectation. Or when you lean against him after a rough mission, exhaustion making you a little softer, a little less guarded.

Or, most obviously, when you think he’s asleep.

He catches you once, fingers brushing against his hair, barely there, like you’re memorizing the shape of him.

He should say something. Call you out. But he doesn’t.

Because for some reason, the realization that the person who terrifies even seasoned killers, is so unbelievably gentle with him?

It does something to him.

Something dangerous.

Years Later – Being in a relationship with you comes with some complications.

Like right now.

“Sit still, damn it” Law mutters, pressing bandages against your side.

You sigh “It’s just a scratch.”

Law glares at you “It’s a stab wound.”

You shrug “Same thing.”

He clenches his jaw, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him “I swear, you are the worst patient I’ve ever had.”

You smirk “And yet, I’m still your favorite.”

Law groans, but he doesn’t deny it.

Because despite everything, your terrifying strength, your eerie presence, your complete disregard for injuries, he can’t help but be drawn to you.

You are the only person who unsettles him. And somehow, you’ve also become the one person he trusts the most.

He huffs, finishing the bandages “Try not to die.”

You grin, leaning in “Worried about me, doctor?”

“Tch” He flicks your forehead “Shut up.”

And despite himself, he smiles.

The next time you get hurt, Law doesn’t even bother hiding his frustration.

“You’re reckless,” he mutters, tightening the bandage around your arm “One of these days, you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

You watch him, amused “Would you miss me?”

He scowls “Shut up”

You smirk “You would.”

Law clicks his tongue, looking away. He hates how smug you sound. Hates it even more because you’re right.

Instead of answering, he sighs, finishing the bandage. Then, before he can talk himself out of it, he presses a hand against your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek.

“You’re lucky I like you” he mutters.

For the first time, you freeze.

Then, slowly, you smile. And Law knows he’s in so much trouble.

── .✦ Portgas D. Ace:

On a nameless island, a pit stop for pirates and criminals alike, Ace hears the rumors first, stories about a lone warrior, someone so deadly that even bounty hunters won’t go near them.

He thinks it sounds like fun.

So when he walks into a bar and sees everyone stiffening at the mere sight of someone sitting in the corner, he knows he’s found you.

You sit alone, idly spinning a knife between your fingers. Your expression is calm, unreadable, but the tension in the room is thick.

Ace grins, making his way over “Mind if I sit?”

You don’t look up “Do what you want.”

He plops down across from you, resting his chin in his hand “Y’know, people are real scared of you.”

Silence.

Ace watches you carefully. You don’t move like a normal fighter. There’s something off about the way you breathe, the way your presence lingers like a shadow stretching too far.

It should probably freak him out.

Instead, it makes his blood rush.

“So,” he continues, smirking “What’s your deal? You a bounty hunter? Are you here to fight?”

You finally meet his eyes. Your gaze is sharp, calculating, like you’re dissecting him without lifting a finger.

"I was just curious who everyone was talking about, turns out it was you."

“…You’re not scared of me?”

Ace grins wider “Should I be?”

The knife in your hand stops spinning and or a split second, the air feels heavy.

Then, slowly, you smirk “Maybe? You tell me. That's what you came here for, isn't it?”

Ace laughs. Loud, bright, genuine.

And just like that, he decides that he actually finds you very attractive, and isn't letting you go so easily.

Years Later – Ace still remembers the first time he saw you fight.

He has always been the kind of guy who laughs in the face of danger.

He doesn’t hesitate to charge into battle, doesn’t flinch at the thought of death. He’s faced warlords, marines, even entire armies.

But when he saw you fighting? For the first time in his life, he felt like prey, even if you weren't fighting him.

How you moved like a phantom, striking fast, silent, merciless. How your enemies barely had time to scream before they hit the ground.

Everyone calls you terrifying. A monster. A nightmare in a human form.

And yet, right now, curled up against him, grumbling sleepily as he wraps his arms around you Ace can’t help but laugh.

You groan “What? You going crazy now?”

“You,” he teases, resting his chin on top of your head “You’re supposed to be the scariest person alive, but look at you.”

You swat at his chest “Shut up.”

Ace just grins, pulling you closer “Nah. I like reminding you.”

"You're always so annoying..." you say turning to not let him see you blush.

Because despite the way you fight, despite the way you terrify your enemies, Ace has seen what no one else has.

How you tuck into his blankets when you're alone. How you always make sure the crew eats before you do. How you fuss over him when he pretends his injuries don’t hurt.

You act all tough, all sharp edges and killing intent.

But Ace knows the truth.

You’re soft. At least, with him.

And that makes him fall for you even more.

He turn your head so that he can see you and with a smirk he says "Don't worry you're hot both ways, I don't mind your soft side at all"

Then he kiss your forehead and you try to hide again, making him laugh softly.

── .✦ Shanks:

Shanks has seen a lot in his life.

He’s fought warlords, crossed paths with the most dangerous men on the seas, and stared death in the face with a grin.

But when he meets you, he realizes he’s never met someone who could scare him and turn him on at the same time.

It happens in a crowded port town, where pirates and mercenaries walk side by side, tension thick in the air. Shanks and his crew are enjoying a round of drinks when Benn nudges him, nodding toward a shadowed corner of the bar.

“Oi, I found out that one’s got quite the reputation.”

Shanks follows his gaze and sees you.

You sit alone, posture relaxed but too still. There’s something about you... something in the way the people around you refuse to meet your eyes, in the way the bartender serves you with hands that tremble, scared to even do his own job.

The crew isn’t easily shaken, but even they seem wary.

Shanks just grins. Because if there’s one thing he can’t resist, it’s a challenge.

“Think I’ll go say hi.”

Benn sighs “Of course you will. Never doubted it.”

Shanks strolls over, drink in hand, and slides into the seat across from you without asking.

You don’t react. Just lift your gaze and meet his like you’re peering into his soul.

He whistles “You’ve got quite the stare.”

“You’ve got quite the nerve...” you reply smoothly.

Shanks chuckles “I get that a lot, actually.”

Silence stretches between you. He expects you to get annoyed, to tell him to leave, but surprisingly you don’t.

You just watch him. Measuring. Calculating. And damn if it doesn’t send a thrill up his spine.

Finally, you speak “You’re not scared of me.”

Shanks smirks, tipping his drink toward you “Should I be?”

Your eyes glint with something sharp. Dangerous. Interested.

“Maybe not, but who knows.”

Shanks leans forward, grinning “I like my odds.”

"I can see it..."

Years Later - “You’re doing it again” Benn mutters.

Shanks blinks “Doing what?”

Benn nods toward you. You’re across the deck, casually sharpening a blade, the crew giving you a very wide berth.

“You’re staring like a love-struck idiot” Benn sighs.

Shanks laughs “Can you blame me?”

Because despite years of being with you, despite knowing exactly how terrifying you can be, Shanks still finds himself completely captivated whenever you're fighting or not.

He’s seen you end fights with a single strike, watched entire battlefields fall silent at your presence. You are ruthless when necessary, the kind of person who doesn’t waste time with threats, just action.

And yet when you think no one’s watching, he sees the little things.

How you make sure the younger crew members eat first. How you adjust someone’s coat when they’re not paying attention. How, late at night, when exhaustion weighs heavy, you let yourself lean into him.

And Shanks?

He eats it up.

Because out of everyone in the world, you choose to be soft only with him.

Later that night, as you both sit on the deck watching the waves, Shanks stretches, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

You roll your eyes but don’t push him away.

He grins “Y’know, for someone so scary, you’re kinda sweet.”

You turn, raising a brow “Wanna say that again?”

Shanks chuckles “Not if I value my life, and I do.”

You smirk, leaning against him just a little.

And that small, rare gesture is worth more to him than any treasure. He's totally in your hands, can you believe it? Because even he something looks at himself and shake his own head at the thought, but at the end who cares? He's with the most attractive person out there.

── .✦ Sabo:

Sabo isn’t the type to scare easily.

He has fought world nobles, infiltrated enemy territory, and stared death in the face more times than he can count. Fear isn’t something he entertains, it’s something he’s learned to push aside, to control.

But when he meets you?

For the first time in a long while, he actually hesitates.

It happens in a revolution-friendly town, the kind of place where people whisper about rebellion but fear retaliation too much to act. Sabo’s here on business, but what he doesn’t expect is to hear a name spoken in hushed, almost fearful tones.

A name that isn’t a government official or a bounty hunter, but yours.

“Who are they?” he asks a local, intrigued.

The man pales “Someone you don’t want to cross.”

Sabo just smirks “Is that so?”

He should probably be cautious. Should probably listen to the fear in the man’s voice.

But instead, he just wants to meet you more.

You’re exactly as the rumors say. You're cold, calculating and dangerous.

When Sabo finds you, you don’t attack him. You just watch him. Still. Silent. Your presence alone feels heavy, like the weight of an unseen blade resting against his throat, daring him to make a wrong move.

Most people would crack under it.

Sabo just grins “Heard a lot about you.”

You don’t react “Likewise.”

He hums, studying you. Most would be unnerved by your unwavering stare, the cold calculation in your eyes. But Sabo finds it fascinating. Finds you fascinating.

He hums, studying you “And? What’s your verdict?”

Your eyes narrow slightly, assessing him like he’s prey “Too early to tell. I don't judge based on rumors.”

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, a quiet tension settling between you. Sabo knows he should be cautious, he knows he’s facing someone whose strength is being feared even among revolutionaries.

But all he can think is — Damn. They’re kinda hot.

Years Later – It’s funny.

Everyone fears you. The Revolutionary Army sees you as a force of nature, one of their strongest, deadliest members. You’re efficient in battle, merciless when necessary. People whisper about you in the same breath as high-ranking officers, speaking of you like a phantom, something to be respected, but never approached.

But Sabo sees more than just the deadly aura that makes people tread lightly.

He sees the way your eyes gleam with amusement when a mission goes exactly as planned. He sees the way you tilt your head in interest, studying your enemies as if they’re puzzles to be solved before being discarded. He sees the way you move, every motion precise, effortless, a dance with death that you never lose.

And he loves it.

Loves the sharp edges, the lethal grace, the way you make his heart race, not with fear, but with something far more intoxicating.

And yet, he also sees the moments no one else does.

You, sitting beside him late at night, absentmindedly tracing circles against his palm.

You, making sure Koala doesn’t overwork herself, leaving her favorite snacks on her desk without a word.

You, rolling your eyes but still letting Sabo pull you into a hug after a long mission, even though your reputation could probably shatter just from being seen indulging him.

“You know,” he teases one night, tilting his head, “for someone so scary, you’re kind of a softie.”

You give him a flat look “Take that back.”

Sabo laughs, eyes gleaming with challenge “Nope. Never gonna happen.”

You grumble something under your breath but don’t pull away, and he counts that as a win.

Because out of everyone in the world, he knows you’re only ever like this with him.

And as much as he adores every part of you, it’s that razor-sharp danger in your eyes, that power in your every movement, that makes his blood sing.

It’s terrifying. It’s exhilarating.

And damn, does he love you for it.

── .✦ Crocodile:

Crocodile has met aaaall kinds of people.

Cowards who grovel at his feet. Fools who think they can challenge him. Liars who smile while plotting his downfall.

But you? You don’t fit into any category.

Because when he first meets you, standing over the broken bodies of bounty hunters, face calm, eyes cold, he doesn’t see fear. He doesn’t see arrogance.

He sees power.

And for the first time in a long while, he’s interested.

When in Rainbase, long after the fall of Baroque Works, Crocodile has been rebuilding, regaining influence, cutting down anyone foolish enough to think he’s lost his edge.

And then you show up.

A ghost in the desert, they call you. A storm without warning. The kind of person who doesn’t make threats, just leaves bodies in their wake.

Crocodile hears the whispers. He almost ignores them.

Until one of his men ends up dead.

Then it's when he decides it’s time to meet you himself.

He finds you in a back alley, wiping blood from your blade.

You don’t look surprised to see him.

“You’ve been causing many problems” he says, exhaling smoke.

You tilt your head, unconcerned “That depends on who you ask.”

Crocodile’s lips curl into something amused. He’s used to people trembling in his presence. But you? You just stand there, watching him with the same detached intensity one might give a corpse.

It should irritate him.

Instead, it makes his blood thrill.

“I don’t like loose ends,” he says “So tell me, why shouldn’t I kill you?”

For the first time, you smile.

Not kind. Not warm.

Just sharp. Cold. Dangerous.

“You could try, I'm happy if you try.”

The air shifts.

Crocodile’s grip on his cigar tightens. His instincts, honed from years of surviving the worst of the worst, tell him that fighting you would not be easy.

And he likes that.

Years Later – Most people don’t look him in the eye.

Most people don’t speak without permission, don’t challenge his decisions, don’t dare to stand too close.

You do all of that.

And Crocodile lets you.

Because unlike the weaklings who grovel before him, you don’t need protection. You don’t need his power to survive.

You’re strong. Cold. Unshaken by blood or war.

And that makes you the only person truly worth his time.

One night, you’re both on the balcony of his hideout, looking down at the city below.

Crocodile exhales smoke, glancing at you “Most people would rather die than be in my company.”

You don’t even blink “Most people are weak.”

He chuckles, low and dark “That so?”

You finally meet his gaze, and in your eyes, he sees something sharp. Something dangerous.

Something that matches him.

He smirks.

Because finally, after years of dealing with fools, liars, and cowards, he’s found someone who is exactly his kind of monster.

2K notes · View notes

ariestrxsh · 5 months ago

Text

❆ content warning: smut, use of toys, oral (f! & m!receiving), masturbation, cheating (kinda), getting caught, praise/degradation, voyeurism/exhibitionism, cuckold behavior, unprotected sex, threesome (ish), bf!chris, pervy!matt, gf!reader

❆ summary: chris buys you a dildo for christmas, and his brother matt, who has always had a thing for you stumbles upon you using it

Merry Chrattmas! 🤍 Sorry it's a little late. Inspired/requested by this ask.

Voyeur

"Alright, which one of you bought a sex toy?" Matt laughed after tearing open the package that had been left on the doorstep that morning without even bothering to look at the name of the recipient. He was holding up a glass dildo for the whole house to see. Nick's eyebrows flew up and his jaw dropped as his gaze meandered over to Chris from across the room.

"Give me that, asshole! What are you doing opening mail that isn't yours? What if it had been a gift for you?" Chris snarked, ripping the box and the toy out of Matt's hand. "Then I would have kindly asked you to return it," Matt chuckled, poking Chris in the side. Chris rolled his eyes.

"It's for my girlfriend, okay? Don't let her know that you've seen it, because she'd be really embarrassed," Chris responded, blushing. "I bet she'll look so good using it," Matt smirked, his imagination running wild.

It was no secret that Matt had always found you attractive. Everyone knew it. Chris knew it, Nick knew it, and even you knew it, but you'd oftentimes joke around, even to Matt's face, that you were a loyal Chris girl and that nothing could ever sway you.

Of course, Matt took this as a challenge and caused him to pine after you even more. You'd never admit to it, but you did secretly like the attention your boyfriend's brother gave you.

"Too bad you'll never know," Chris rolled his eyes at his brother's out-of-pocket comment and rushed off to his room to wrap the gift in private along with the pink Fresh Love hoodie he'd designed for you. He included a card in the gift that read:

"I hope you wear this hoodie and think of me the next time you get off without me. Merry Christmas, baby. I love you. Xoxo, Chris."

He scribbled in a poorly drawn heart at the bottom of the card. He swathed the box in gift wrap, tying a sparkly, pink bow around it and placing it under the tree.

It was only a few days later that you went over to your boyfriend's house to spend the night, and luckily, Nick was out for the evening, and Matt was on his way out, so the two of you were going to have the house to yourselves. It was the perfect opportunity for Chris to give you your present.

"You're going to love the gift my brother got you. It's gonna make you scream," Matt whispered into your ear and winked as he was getting ready to walk out the door. You rolled your eyes and scoffed at him, but your curiosity was sparked.

After he left, you and Chris sat in front of the fireplace in the glow of the burning wood and twinkling Christmas lights that were strewn around the tree. The scent of the sugar cookie candle that was burning down to the wick wafted through the air. Chris delicately placed the neatly-wrapped gift in your hand.

"I know it's not Christmas yet," Chris said with a warm smile, knowing you were the type of person who liked to wait until Christmas morning to open your gifts. You smiled back at him, fiddling with the pretty ribbon wrapped around it. "But?" You asked, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

"It's the kind of gift I want you to open alone," Chris responded, nervously biting his lip. You wrinkled your nose at him. Open alone? Too bad Matt knew what it was for whatever reason, you thought to yourself. You weren't sure where he was going with this, but that made it even harder to resist tearing open the gift.

"I'll make an exception. Just for you," you rolled your eyes in an endearing manner and began to tear off the wrap, revealing an unmarked box beneath the paper. You slowly removed the lid, and you gasped at the Fresh Love hoodie that was neatly folded on top.

It was your favorite color, and you clutched it close to your chest and gave your boyfriend an exhilarated smile. "Chris, I love it!" You glanced back down into the box where a card lay on top of some sparkly tissue paper. He'd made it himself, which made it that much more special. Blood rushed to your cheeks as you read the card aloud.

"Chris, what else is in here?" You wondered as you started rifling through the box. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped as you examined the glass toy, and you picked it up by the pink heart-shaped handle. "Chris.. it's so pretty," you whispered.

"Not as pretty as you using it, though, I'm sure," he gave you a cheeky grin and nudged you. "I don't know how. You should show me," you gave him a fake pout and batted your eyelashes at him. You did know how to use it, but you wanted Chris to be the first one to use it on you.

"Take off your clothes," he lustfully whispered as you handed off the dildo to him, a smirk playing in the corner of your lip. You pulled off your sweater, revealing that you had nothing on underneath, and you took down the waistband of your pajama pants and your underwear.

"Fuck, you're already wet," Chris noticed aloud as you slowly spread open your legs, his fingertips lightly grazing your skin. He leaned down and started trailing kisses up your inner thighs while you gently combed through his hair with your fingers as he neared your heat.

He licked a long stripe up your slit, subtly flicking his tongue across your clit once he got to it. He placed your toy at your entrance and slowly pushed it in. You squealed and clamped your legs down around Chris' head as you stretched around the glass dildo.

He began to gently fuck you with it, listening to the pretty sounds that fell from your lips as you threw your head back. You gripped his hair, tugging on it as he picked up the pace of his tongue, quickly flitting it over your bundle of nerves. He closed his lips down around it, humming against your clit, your legs shaking at the sensation.

The dildo didn't feel quite as good as having sex with Chris, but it was good enough that you knew it would satisfy you the next time you were turned on and missing him. He worked the toy in and out of you at a gradually quickening pace, and your hips started to move in unison with it.

"Chris, you're amazing," you breathlessly purred, and he chuckled with your pussy in his mouth. He could tell you were getting close. He didn't fluctuate, his motions remaining constant while his pretty blue eyes flicked up to meet yours. You rested your hand on the back of his head, encouraging him to keep eating you as your whole body started to tremble.

"Yes.. please.. just like that.. mmm.. gonna cum," you said in a series of broken moans. You felt yourself squeezing around the toy the same way your thighs were squeezing around Chris' ears, and before you knew it, you were coming undone at the seams.

The pressure that had spent so much time building in your core finally reached its breaking point. You bucked your hips, riding the toy and grinding against Chris' face as you finished. Your broken moans turned to fervent whimpers, and your whimpers turned to desperate screams, just like Matt had predicted. Your eyes wandered towards the back of your head.

Chris didn't take his gaze off you. He loved making you feel good, and he relished in the way your body reacted to orgasm. He thrust the toy in and out of you and licked your sensitive button until you were completely finished and pushing his head away.

"Oh my god," you said, trying to catch your breath and recover from the intensity of your climax. Chris came up for air, his lips and chin glistening in your fluids. "That was so hot," he said in a low, sexy voice. You took the toy from him and leaned in to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue as the two of you passionately made out.

"You're so good at giving," you told him. "Gifts, I mean." The two of you laughed at your play on words. You both spent the rest of the night watching Christmas movies cuddled up on the couch with mugs of hot cocoa while the fire burned through the rest of the wood.

You and Chris eventually found your way to his bedroom where the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms tangled in the sheets. The warmth of his body wrapped around you and the comforting feeling of his hot breath on your neck was the last thing you remembered before you drifted off...

You awoke the next morning to Chris shifting around on the bed, and after you rubbed your eyes, you realized he was getting dressed to go somewhere. "Where are you going?" You asked in your sleepy voice.

"I'm going to go pick us up coffee and bagels. Just keep sleeping like a little angel, and I'll be back soon. I love you," Chris whispered, leaning down to kiss you and ruffle your hair.

You were hoping to sneak in a little early morning sex with him, but he was already putting his shoes on, and you figured you could just use the new toy he bought you while he was gone. "I love you, too," you responded in a sweet voice.

You watched him from your foggy window, flakes of snow starting to slowly fall from the sky. Your face lit up, excited that you were going to get your White Christmas after all. Chris blew you a kiss before he got into his car and sped off.

You sauntered over to the pretty box that held your gifts. You changed into the pink Fresh Love hoodie Chris had designed for you, and you twirled around in front of his big mirror, admiring how perfectly it fit you.

You reached for the phallic-shaped glass and held it in your hands, contemplating whether to wait until Chris got back or to use it. You decided on the latter, unable to contain yourself any longer.

While Chris was still out getting the two of you breakfast, Matt wandered in through the front door. He set his keys down, let out a sigh, and started off down the hall, completely unaware of what he was about to stumble upon.

He walked past Chris' room, but some movement out of the corner of his eyes caused him to stop dead in his tracks and take a couple steps back. He was surprised to find you there, considering he didn't think anyone was home.

What surprised him even more was what you were doing. You were laying on your back on Chris' bed in nothing but your pink hoodie, legs spread, and your pussy wrapped around the toy he'd accidentally opened in the mail a couple days earlier.

You were so enthralled with what you were doing that you didn't even hear him come in or see him as he leaned up against your door frame with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. He raised an eyebrow as he studied the view, wetting his lips. It was everything he hoped it would be.

Your facial expressions were steeped in desire, ethereal moans rolling off your tongue, and your cunt stretching around the toy as you worked it back and forth. He immediately grew hard, watching you and imagining it was his cock pumping in and out of you.

Your eyes flickered up, realizing he was in the room with you. You gasped and shut your legs, holding the toy still inside of you as you clenched around it. "Please. Don't stop," Matt begged, reaching for the bulge in his pants and gently running his hand over it. "Keep going. Please. I just wanna watch," he softly begged.

It was so hard to see him stroke himself through his sweatpants and not do the same. You knew it was wrong to be feeling this way about your boyfriend's brother, but you felt your stomach drop as your eyes landed on the outline of his hard cock and before you knew it, you were spreading your legs back open and continuing to fuck yourself with your dildo.

"Does that feel good?" He asked you, and you timidly nodded at him with your bottom lip caught between your teeth. He walked forward a few feet, coming around to the side of the bed to watch you more closely. He reached out and lightly brushed your cheek with the back of his hand.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you quietly told him, but you couldn't help the way you relaxed into his touch as he caressed your face. "It's not like I'm fucking you," Matt smirked, and as he said it, your mind was immediately filled with ideas about what it would be like to get fucked by him.

Matt brushed his thumb against your bottom lip and gently pushed it into your mouth. You accepted it and started lightly sucking on it while Matt reached into his sweats and pulled out his pretty cock. You were shocked at how similar it looked to Chris', and it made it even easier for you to justify to yourself that you weren't technically doing anything wrong.

You sped up the toy thrusting into you as Matt continued to poke and prod your mouth with his fingers while he fervently jerked off at eye-level with you. "Good girl," Matt whispered as he ran his other thumb over his tip, coaxing a shiny fluid to leak from it. You sped up the pace as you watched him.

You knew the two of you were crossing a line, but you couldn't help yourself. Matt was too busy watching your toy glide in and out of your hole, and you were too busy watching Matt fist his cock that neither one of you saw Chris standing in the doorway with bagels and coffee as he stumbled upon the two of you and the way you were each hungrily looking at one another.

"Oh yeah? So I'm out getting you breakfast and you're using the toy I got you in front of my brother?" He scoffed, breaking the two of you out of your trance and making each of you jump.

He expected this from Matt, but he was shocked to see this kind of behavior from you. Matt pulled his thumb out from between your lips, and you each brought your movements to a standstill.

The longer Chris fixed his eyes on the scene in front of him, the more he found himself getting turned on by you playing with yourself in front of his brother. "Don't let me stop you. At least let me enjoy the show," Chris said, setting down the bagels and coffee on his dresser as he made his way to the foot of the bed and sat down.

You and Matt were dumbfounded, wondering if this was some kind of test. You halfway expected Chris to get angry, break up with you, or even physically fight his own brother. Yet, he was calm, and he seemed like he might have even liked it.

"Come on. Keep going," Chris demanded, and after a moment of hesitation, you continued to pump your toy into your drooling hole. Matt stuck his pointer finger into your mouth, and you started lightly sucking on it. A soft sigh left Matt's lips as he imagined you sucking on a different appendage, and he went back to stroking his pretty cock.

As if Chris could read Matt's thoughts, he flicked his gaze over at you, "Why don't you help him out?" He asked, a smirk playing in the corner of his mouth. You nodded and then looked back over at Matt who was putting his dick in your face that was silently begging to be sucked on.

You accepted him, wrapping your lips around his thickness as he started rocking his hips back and forth. He emitted a moan and his hand flew up to tangle itself in your hair. "Good girl," he softly purred, grabbing onto a fistful of your locks and pushing it further into your mouth.

He wasn't sure how far Chris would let him go with it, but he figured he'd test the boundaries until either one of you told him he was taking it too far. His other hand wandered between your legs. He started rubbing your clit, eliciting a moan from you that reverberated against his cock, leaving him with a lovely sensation.

"You're such a shameless little slut, aren't you? Letting my brother touch you in front of me as if I'm not your boyfriend?" Chris snarked at you, but you could tell by the luscious tone of his voice and the way he was stroking himself through his pants that he was getting off on what he saw.

"Come on, Matt. Fuck her pretty little face. She can take it. I promise," Chris encouraged him. He tightened his grip on your hair and did as Chris told him, jerking his hips forward triggering your gag reflex.

Matt continued drawing circles on your clit with the pad of his fingers as he stared into your watering eyes. His cock twitched against the back of your throat as he listened to the sound of you choking on him.

"Good girl. You take it so well. I wish I could fuck you," Matt purred. You moaned against Matt's length at the idea of him plowing you while your boyfriend watched. Chris was still gently rubbing his tip through the fabric of his pants as he watched the way you and Matt interacted with another.

"Merry Christmas, Matt. You can do whatever you want to her," Chris told him, getting harder and harder as his eyes flickered back and forth between the two of you. Matt's eyes twinkled as those words left Chris' lips.

"Oh, don't tell me that. I won't be able to control myself," Matt smirked, pulling his dick out from behind your lips with a pop. Matt grabbed the handle of your toy and slowly removed it from you and placed it on your nightstand.

"Go crazy. Can't you see how bad the little slut wants it?" Chris asked, staring down at the fucked out expression on your face and your pussy that was clenching around nothing.

Matt positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his cock teasing your hole. "You want it, don't you? You like the idea of getting fucked in front of your boyfriend?" Matt chuckled, breaching your entrance and beginning to gently rock his hips back and forth with only the first few inches of him inside you.

You slowly nodded, screwing your eyes shut as your jaw dropped at the change in sensation of Matt replacing your toy with his throbbing phallus. With every thrust, he pushed it in a little deeper until he was completely bottomed out inside of you, hitting the perfect spot.

The sounds of each of your moans dragging out and becoming louder as Matt pumped away. He placed your legs on his shoulders, fucking you harder and faster as you felt the pressure in your core building and building.

He pushed up your pink hoodie, revealing your perfect tits to him, and he gently squeezed one as he admired them. "Fuck, look at these," Matt whispered, pinching your nipple between the pads of his fingers, eliciting a soft mewl from you.

You could see Chris out of the corner of your eye moving towards you and coming around to the side of the bed. He took your hand in his and started caressing the back of it with his thumb. "Is he making you feel good?" He whispered into your ear before kissing your forehead. "Mhmm," you hummed delightfully.

It was always a fantasy of his to watch you get fucked by someone else, and although this wasn't exactly how he pictured it, he figured he couldn't let the opportunity go to waste.

"You take it like a little slut, you know that?" Chris cooed in your ear before latching onto your neck. You nodded, relishing in the way he spoke to you and the way his lips felt as he sucked on your sensitive flesh.

Matt loved the way it felt to be inside of you. He'd been fantasizing about it forever. He'd never admit it, but he'd stayed awake many nights, ear pressed up against Chris' door with his hand in his pants, listening to the sound of you getting fucked. He'd memorized the way your sweet little moans would slowly morph into seductive screams every time Chris would bring you to orgasm.

Now he was the reason pleasured noises were cascading from your lips, and he couldn't get enough. He knew you were getting close. "Oh, that's it," Matt grunted as he threw his head back, feeling you squeeze around his cock.

"Are you gonna cum for my brother?" Chris purred in your ear, recognizing the way your body was reacting and knowing you were about to finish. You looked into Chris' eyes and slowly nodded as the knot in your stomach came unraveled, your pussy rhythmically clenching around him.

"Good girl," Matt breathlessly whispered, pounding into you as hard as he could. Your pleasure reached a crescendo, and you heard a ringing in your ears and a strong buzzing throughout your body as you came undone on Matt's cock.

You couldn't see or think straight. All you could feel was an intense surge of pleasure followed by a wave of calmness washing over you as Matt's dick started to throb inside of you. He pulled out at the last second, painting your stomach in his load and pumping his cock back and forth with his fist until he had milked himself dry.

His eyes rolled back in his head, and his moans filled the room as he finished all over you. "Oh my god," he breathlessly whimpered, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead. Chris' eyes followed the mess he made, his cock jerking at the sight.

"Hey, Matt. Just letting you know, this was a one-time thing, and if you're not out of here by the time I come to my senses, I might fucking kill you," Chris said sternly. Matt nodded, quickly pulling himself to his feet and tucking himself back into his pants before darting out of the room.

"Loyal Chris girl, huh?" Chris snarked at you, using your own words against you. "Chris.." you started to say, expecting him to get angry with you next. "It's okay. I'm not mad at you. I'm not mad at Matt either. I just wanted to see him run away like a little bitch," he told you, his lips curling into a devious smile.

"I actually really liked watching you two together," he admitted, biting his lip. Your eyebrows flew up in a look of surprise. You could tell he liked it, but you didn't think he'd confess to it. "Come on. Your coffee's probably cold by now."

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dilf-docs · 5 months ago

Text

It Always Leads To You

dbf!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

cr: divider by @kodaswrld / gif @tomshiddles

#dilfistwrites #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #tlou #tlou fanfiction

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