#this scene has such a soothing feeling to it that i can't get enough of | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherrychilli · 2 months ago

Text

18+ Eddie Munson x F! reader, established relationship, oral sex (m receiving), performing sex acts with food Summary: Eddie makes an unusual request when watching you eat your favorite candy gives him an idea WC: 2.7K

A/N: I've got a serious sweet tooth and with it being spooky season and all, I just had to write this. Enjoy!

You'd been doing it for a while now, peering out of your bedroom window to watch the brisk autumn breeze lift withered leaves of orange and brown up high before they fluttered back down and came to rest on your front lawn.

Somehow you were yet to tire of of the sight, feeling both soothed and all cozied up in the blanket you'd plucked from your bed. Draping it around your shoulders, you wrapped the rest around your middle while you stood there, creating a cocoon of warmth as you watched more fallen leaves tumble along the yard before the wind blew them up high again.

You liked this time of year more than others, content with quietly soaking up all the little sights and sounds Autumn had to offer when the sound of your cellphone rattling on your desk takes you out of the peaceful scene.

Crossing the room before you miss it, you see the name displayed on your screen and that alone is enough to make you smile, happily swiping to answer his call.

You'd been set on spending the day at home and all bundled up when only three minutes into the call and he manages to tempt you out of your cocoon. Eddie was always good at convincing you like that, this time inviting you over for a lazy evening at his place. He makes promises of a B horror movie classic shoved into the VCR to entertain you both and more importantly, a bowl full of your favorites to fill your belly.

Swallowing as you salivate, you promise to be there in no more than fifteen minutes, managing a quick change of clothes before you take off for the trailer park with your tummy rumbling all throughout your drive there.

By the time you arrive with five minutes to spare too, the once bright flamingo sky had started to dull into a dark raven, the stars and moon soon to follow as you step out of the car and make your way over.

Treading towards the trailer your eyes settle on something both new and familiar, a big smile breaking out on your face when you get a little closer and recognize the carved pumpkin sitting out on the Munson's doorstep.

Eddie and you had made it together a few days before, the two of you trying your best but ultimately struggling. The task was so much harder to complete than than it looked, leaving the both of you fed up and more than a little sick of the earthy scent of pumpkin that clung to your fingers.

You assumed he'd have thrown it in the trash but seeing it now, with its flame flickering gently, you found the misshapen, jagged edges framing the jack o lanterns grin oddly charming and not the disaster you thought it'd be. What's more, you liked that he cared enough to still display it proudly as a symbol of your joint effort.

Skipping up the stairs, you find the door already unlocked for you as the knob turns and you step inside, nearly bumping into Eddie in the middle of drawing the curtains shut. He takes a quick pause to kiss you hello, his lips tasting of sticky sweet strawberry before he finishes flicking the lights off to view tonight's horror movie.

"Take a seat, babe", he tells you, hurrying into the kitchenette and back with a few sodas.

You step towards the couch though you hang on the way he smiles at you, just as you had with the your gaze trained on the leaves rustling along on your lawn.

You can't help noticing the way Eddie's cheeks have begun to fill out from the frequent snacking he's done this month, not to mention the way his stomach has rounded out a bit underneath his t-shirt, the sleeves fitting more snugly around his biceps too as do his jeans as they show off the thickness of his thighs.

It's a subtle, chubby layer that makes a quiet urge brew inside you, wanting to wrap yourself around him and feel all the places he's turned softer before kissing him hard all over.

All in good time, you think to yourself, taking your place on the couch while Eddie feeds a copy of Basket Case into the VCR.

Propping your elbows on your thighs, your chin resting in your palms, you lean forward to peruse the evening's offerings sitting on the table in front of you, grinning excitedly at all the treats crowding the bowl.

"As promised my dear lady", Eddie gestures to the bowl when he catches you looking, walking back to the couch to sit by you with a playful quirk of his eyebrow.

There's enough candy inside to cause a spill if you're not careful, the top layer alone filled with so many kinds, all different flavors and sizes. You realize you're completely spoilt for choice when your eyes wander all over, roving over cherry sours, peanut butter bars, strawberry bon bons, grape sweetarts and many many more.

"Eds, this is too much", you chuckle, poking a strawberry twizzler resting at the very top of the pile.

Without missing a beat he's quick to flash you one of his best smiles, wide and warm, enough to make the coldest parts of you melt. "Just wanted to treat my favorite girl", he winks back.

That earns him another kiss, one he's more than happy to receive when you pull him closer and press your lips to the full apple of his cheek, his heart somersaulting from the quick little show of affection.

"Thank you", you tell him sincerely, giggling when you notice the sparkle glittering in his eyes.

"Oh come on. It's the least I could have done", he adds sheepishly.

With that settled, your fingers twitch as you turn your attention back to the candy, trying to decide on what you should unwrap first before you settle on a packet of pink starbursts.

The first hour passes without a hitch after that, your thigh warm against Eddie's while the two of you juggle watching the movie, making cracks at it and snacking on everything sweet and sour.

A little pile of empty candy wrappers accumulate beside the bowl during that time, still quite a bit to get through even with Eddie's help. By this point you'd sucked on many a lemon head, chewed every kind of bubble gum and bit into the occasional gooey caramels that had you sucking the stubborn leftovers still clinging to your back teeth. You fed some into Eddie's mouth too, making him happier and happier to know how much you're enjoying his little gift.

So much so that he'd begun to watch you out of the corner of his eye from time to time with quiet fascination, watching you pick a new candy and munch on it before you moved on to another.

It must be the way you're pressed up against him and the way you sweetly kiss his fingers to clear the occasional dusting of powdered sugar or smudge of gummy cherry lingering on him because he's just about lost all interest in the movie playing on TV.

He can't help but note the way your soft, sweet lips fit around each piece of candy as you place them in your mouth, your cheeks growing full and puffing out until you've chewed enough to swallow. He's transfixed on the way your tongue wraps around every lollipop, the way you suck suck suck on every sour candy, every movement of your mouth conjuring the kind of thoughts he ought to keep to himself.

That is until he feels you shift beside him.

Your eyes are coyly set on the TV like you're yet to notice Eddie's gaze on you, or at least he had thought so. He knows what's coming next when his eyes fall to his lap, your hand resting there casually, lightly grazing his dark jeans as you inch it higher and higher towards his crotch when suddenly he croaks out, "Babe? it's not that I don't want it- its just...I have this... idea and I want to run it by you first."

The movie is entirely forgotten at this point, still playing in the background and keeping the trailer lit as you listen attentively, eyes blinking up at Eddie when he finally spits it out.

"You want me to do what?", you ask, half taken aback, half ready to chortle.

"You think it's stupid, don't you?", he asks, his lips drooping into a little frown.

"I didn't say that", you tell him, huffing out a laugh through your nose when he lights up again like fireworks.

"It's just that it's not every day that I get asked to suck your cock with a mouthful of pop rocks, you know?"

Eddie lets out a weak laugh, shaking his head when he realizes how his proposition must sound to you.

"Yeah. You're right. I'm sorry, let's just forget the who-"

"Woah woah, slow down-", you quickly bring your face up to his, pressing your index finger at his lips to silence him, your gaze locked on his bambi brown eyes. You let your other hand scale his thigh just as before, this time making it to his crotch where you rub your palm firmly over the girth of his stiffening bulge. "-and take your pants off for me, Munson."

A weathered couch cushion keeps your knees from feeling sore, your palms pushing gently at Eddie's hairy, bare inner thighs to make room for yourself between his legs.

"Y' ready?" you ask him, peppy with excitement when you retrieve the little packet of cherry pop rocks from the half empty bowl of candy, bringing it up to your mouth to rip it open with your teeth.

You can tell that the sight of you like this is only making him even more eager judging by the way his cock twitches against his soft, pudgy belly, leaving a messy streak of precum along his skin.

"Keep doing stuff like that and I might finish before you even get started", he chuckles lightly.

Exchanging smirks, you take that as your cue to part your lips and tip the little packet of pop rocks into your mouth, the taste of sweet, tangy sugar fresh on your tongue.

The contents crackle and pop there, tickling the inside of your cheeks and the roof of your mouth too. Setting the packet aside, you wrap your fingers around Eddie's girth. With one last look at his blushing mauve cheeks and his wide, unblinking eyes, you open your mouth the point you know that your jaw will be sore later. Not that you cared, gently fitting his cock inside your waiting mouth.

"Oh god- o-oh fuck ngh...baby!"

You can only imagine what it must feel like for Eddie, your eyes fixed on the way his own squeeze shut and his teeth bite into his lower lip. For a second you even worry he might be in pain as you watch him closely, concern taking over you as you try to remove your mouth from him but Eddie moves quicker than you can.

He works a trembling hand into your hair to keep you situated. The feeling undoubtedly intense, he still manages to guide you up and down his candied shaft gently, enough to make you hum with relief as you refocus your efforts on making him feel good.

The confection continues to crackle and pop pleasantly in your mouth, tickling the back of your throat when his tip nudges you there. His entire cock is sweet to the taste as you bob and slurp thoroughly all over him, the fruity scent of cherry blending with Eddie's natural musk permeating from the untrimmed hair at his base. You liked the way it brushes your nose when you take him in deep, making sure to breathe in the scent in deep, slow breaths.

As for Eddie, the gentle motion of you tasting every inch of him makes him squirm on the couch, your saliva turning thick with the addition of the candy, a sugary syrup of sorts that tints your lips and his dick in a matching shade of rosy red.

Among the many expletives running through his mind, Eddie curses himself for not having thought of this sooner but more importantly he thinks of how he'll be returning the favor later, dead set on finding a way to give you the same kind of pleasure you're so eagerly giving him.

Comfortably perched between his legs, you take in every sigh that falls from his lips, every groan and moan that makes you tingle from the base of your spine to the top, every breathy call of your name sounding more sweeter than the last.

"Keep looking at me...yeah, that's it...need to...shi- you look so fucking perfect right now"

As much as it fills your chest with sunny warmth to hear that, you want to tell him that you feel the same way too, that you've never set your eyes on anything as beautiful as how he looks right now.

If your mouth wasn't so full with him you'd tell him how much you adored his flushed cheeks, his swollen lips and the way his sweat makes his skin glisten but something tells you that he already knows, both of you able to convey your understanding through looks alone.

So when you begin to swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock like a lolly you can tell by his pinched expression and increasingly choppy breathing that his climax isn't far off but he makes sure to tell you anyway,

"Not gonna last long, angel...", he lets out a low, pretty whine, "that mouth of yours...fuck...'s damn near dangerous"

You fight off a small laugh as you beam with pride. How could you not after receiving such praise? practically smiling around Eddie's cock as you suckle him softly.

"Wanna watch you swallow it. Wanna see it in your mouth- all full of it. C-can you do that for me? m' almost there"

As much as you'd like to run your tongue along him just a little longer, feeling him twitch and pulse in your mouth you oblige, slowly sucking your way up to his tip and letting it go with an audible pop.

Taking a moment to rub at your tired jaw, you notice all the tiny leftover specs of candy yet to dissolve coating his glossy, throbbing length, your own mouth still containing a few globs of pop rocks.

There's no time to ask if you could lick them clean, reading the urgent expression on Eddie's face with ease and dutifully opening your mouth for him. He takes over by holding his dick and stroking himself quickly, his reddened tip resting on your red stained tongue.

All it takes is a few, quick strokes until his breath stutters and his body shudders, his thick cum spurting so much and so far you feel the creamy ropes splatter some of your teeth and hit the back of your throat where it then begins to slide down, triggering you to swallow.

While you swish and taste the leftover candy cum combination in your mouth, Eddie damn near blacks out from pumping his load into your mouth, his vision turning spotty before he's able to focus on you again. Chest heaving with deep, shaky breaths, he watches in mute amazement at the way you insatiably lap up his tangy spend, raising a curious eyebrow at you when instead of getting up off your knees, you turn to fiddle with the candy bowl instead.

Though it feels impossible, you find a way to breathe more life into his spent body so quickly after making him cum and no one's more surprised about it than Eddie. His stomach flutters and his cock begins to twitch back to stiffness when he sees what you've got a hold of and Eddie realizes with glee that the night is nowhere near over.

Holding up two packets in each hand as you smile up at him from between his legs, you ask him,

"So which do you want me to try next? watermelon or blue razzberry?"

#eddie munson smut #stranger things smut #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader

428 notes · View notes

absurdthirst · 8 months ago

Text

Mother's Day Surprise {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.4k

Warnings: Menstrual blood/cramping, violent attack, near death, surgery, comma, mentions of blood and disturbing scenes, recovery, assistance with basic needs, helping Joel shower, confessions of feelings, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, mentions of family planning, breeding kink, dirty talk, cream pie, infertility, depression, feelings of worthlessness, death, harsh and cruel world, babies

Comments: Helping Joel Miller recover from a horrific attack leads to a life you never knew possible.

**🚨🚨 Contains spoilers for Season 2 of The Last of Us🚨🚨**

A/N: Happy Mother's Day to all those lovely moms out there and anyone wishing to become one in the future. Being a mom doesn't necessarily mean biologically. 💜

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You grunt, squinting as you struggle to see in the dark. It's the middle of the night, the sun not yet peeking through the curtains, and you wonder why you woke up until your stomach twists and you realize you're wet between your thighs. "No. No. No. No." You cry, tears in your eyes as you scramble out of bed and rush into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You shove your shorts down and sob at the blood that's gathered there. You got your period. Again. You sit down on the toilet and gather some paper to clean yourself up while you try to smother your cries but there's a knock at the door and Joel's voice resonates through it, "are you okay, sweetheart?" He asks and you choke out, "the bed." Joel walks over to turn the lamp on, his eyes widening at the blood on the sheets. "Oh sweetheart." He sighs, resting his forehead against the door frame. "I'm sorry, baby. I - I am useless." You sob and he rattles the door handle, "let me in." He demands and you flush the toilet, washing your hands before you open the door. Joel immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. "We will try again." He promises, "I didn't give up when I was recovering and we won't give up now." He assures you while you sob into his chest.

He sighs, not even going to deny his own disappointment, although people who used to know him in the Boston QZ would never believe it. Joel Miller, disappointed that you aren’t pregnant. The very obvious sign of his seed not taking root staining the sheets of the bed you share. He shouldn’t want a child. He’s closer to fucking sixty years old than not, just a few years shy and yet he finds himself wanting to see you round with his child. His second child by blood, his third in his heart. Ellie is staying with Dina tonight, so he doesn’t have to worry about waking her up as your sobs wrack your body. “You aren’t useless.” He soothes, frowning when he remembers your emotional words. Standing in the bathroom, he wishes there was something that he could do, fertility doctors from twenty plus years ago were a thing of the past. Most people do not want to bring children into this fungi infested world, but here in Jackson, he has hope for the future. Hope for a chance to pass on a legacy.

You cling to him, knowing he's disappointed. Lord knows you've been trying enough but you just can't seem to get pregnant. It's like you are cursed and you wonder if Joel's injuries hurt your chances.

****

You gasp when you look up to see a mangled man carried into the hospital. You set your cup of coffee down and stand up, the resident doctor rushing around to try and stop the bleeding. "What the hell?" You ask and a teenage girl is clinging to his hand as the team try to wheel him into the surgery room. "Joel. Joel. Don't leave me." She pleads, tears in her eyes, and you reach for her. "He's in good hands, sweetheart. Come here. Let the doctor work." You manage to drag her away and she wraps her arms around you and sobs, "I didn't know - she nearly - they nearly- it's all my fault." She chokes and you rub her back, frowning at the doors where the man disappeared.

Hours later, the door swings open and the doctor comes back through, his work scrubs stained with blood. Ellie had been impatiently sitting and leaps out of her seat. “Is he alive? Where is he? I want to see him.” She demands, making the doctor lift his hands slightly. “He’s alive.” He reassures her, making her tense shoulders slump with relief and tears prick her eyes. “There was massive trauma to the head, and-“ Ellie interrupts him. “Of course there is, that bitch tried to beat him to death with a fucking golf club.”

Your eyes widen at the news that he was nearly beaten to death. You wrap your arm around Ellie’s shoulder. She had rambled about how Joel saved her, how much she loves him, how he’s the father she never had. Her words made your heart melt and you silently prayed he pulled through. “It’s going to be a long road to recovery. For now, we will monitor him and see if he pulls through the night. It’s touch and go still.” The doctor warns Ellie who nods, “he will pull through. Joel is a stubborn fucker.” You chuckle and rub her upper arm, “let’s get you something to eat and a shower and we can come back when he’s settled in a room.” You suggest and she’s reluctant to leave but the doctor nods, “he’s unconscious. Will be for a few days at least. His body needs rest. Go get some food and he will be waiting for you.” Ellie nods and lets you guide her to your house. Her home needs to be cleaned up and you don’t want her to see the aftermath of the battle that occurred in her home.

Joel had put up a fight. Furniture is broken, the mirror in the hallway - one he had grumbled about every day when it showed him how old he is - is shattered. Shards of glass and spurts of blood splash the walls. Ellie grimaces and stops at the blood stain on the floor right by the open front door. Obviously no one had cared about closing up the house when rushing Joel off to the hospital. “Right.” She sighs, turning when she hears someone running towards her. “Ellie! Fuck, is Joel alright?” Breathless, Tommy stops in front of the teenager and his face almost begs her to tell him that his older brother is okay. “I tracked her, but she got away.” He explains; that being the reason he wasn’t at the hospital earlier. “She went to the river and I couldn’t track her from there.”

Ellie straightens her back, shaking her head, “that fucking bitch.” She growls and you answer Tommy’s question. “Joel had surgery. He’s unconscious right now. Still in the air as to him waking up without brain damage. The doctor did the best he could but it…it was bad.” You admit and Tommy closes his eyes, needing to see his brother. “I need to see him.” He says and you nod, “he’s unconscious still. I’m going to get Ellie changed and get her something to eat.” You tell Tommy who reaches out to squeeze Ellie’s shoulder. “Get something to eat, kid. I’ll let you know if anything changes.” Tommy promises and Ellie doesn’t say anything else, going quiet. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”

You nod, “go clean up. I’ll get started on trying to clean this up.” You tell her and she makes her way upstairs. You sigh, looking over at the pool of blood and you feel sick. You’ve always had a crush on the older Miller brother since he arrived at Jackson, but you’re certain he doesn’t even know you exist.

****

You check Joel’s pulse, his eyes moving beneath his eyelids. He’s still unconscious, has been for a few days, and the hospital isn’t equipped with equipment to test brain function. All you can do is watch and wait to see if he will wake up.

Joel hurts, every inch of his body hurts and it feels like he’s trying to move mountains just to open his eyes. Fingers twitching and he opens his mouth, groaning quietly.

You gasp when you hear him groan, watching his eyes flutter, and you let go of his wrist, calling for the doctor. The doctor comes in and you gesture to Joel, “he is waking up.” The doctor nods, checking Joel over, his bandages wrapped around his head, and they had to shave his head to perform the surgery. You wonder if he will be angry about losing his hair. Ellie is in the waiting room so you head out to see her. “He’s awake.” You tell her and she stands up, “he is. I want to see him.” You shake your head, “the doctor is checking him over. Let’s give them some time.”

It takes a long time to understand what the doctors are telling him, frowning in confusion and wondering why his head feels like it’s been squashed like a grape. Moving is slower and he hisses in pain when he learns that his ribs have been broken and his leg is also fractured. Opening his mouth, it’s hard to get a word out. “E-E-El-Ellie.” He manages, needing to see her.

The doctor nods, “she’s okay.” You escort Ellie into the room, wanting her to see her father is awake, and she rushes over to the bed. “Joel. Joel. I’m sorry.” Ellie chokes, reaching for his hand. He groans as he squeezes her hand, silently assured that she’s okay.” You watch their reunion with tears in your eyes from the doorway.

“D-d-don’t bl-ame y-your-self.” Joel rasps out, still fuzzy on what happened. He doesn’t remember anything much before waking up in the hospital. Although he gets the sense he was angry- desperate. He groans in pain when she lunges forward to hug him, but he doesn’t push her away.

You watch Ellie hug him and you know in that moment you’ll do whatever you can do to make sure Joel gets better. Ellie pulls back after several moments and the doctor checks Joel’s vitals. “He needs some more time here so we can observe him.” Ellie nods at the doctor’s words and you walk over to rub her back.

“I’m going be honest, Mr. Miller,” the doctor tells him as he pulls back. “I am surprised that you even woke up. There was significant bleeding and swelling of the brain. Tests seem positive but there could be damage that hasn’t manifested itself yet.” He tells Joel. “It’s going to be a long road to recovery for you.”

Joel doesn’t say anything. He was nearly murdered. He knows he shouldn’t be alive right now. Ellie sniffs as she steps back and Joel attempts to squeeze her hand. The doctor grabs his clipboard and looks at Joel’s recent vitals. “Waking up was half the struggle. Let’s monitor you and go from there.” The doctor says, “and we will keep running tests.” Joel grunts out an “okay” and you offer him a smile, “you’re a fighter just like Ellie said. She’s lucky to have you.”

You’re familiar to him, he can’t place it, but his thoughts are still fuzzy and jumbled. “How- how long have I been here?” He asks after a moment. “Three days.” Ellie answers and he frowns. “Who- where have you been sleeping?”

Ellie says your name, “I have been staying in her house. She has been cleaning our house because there was too much blood and - and it was a mess.” Ellie reveals and Joel’s eyes are hazy as they meet yours, silently saying goodbye thank you and you nod in response. “Just focus on getting better, Ellie and I are enjoying some girl time.” You tease, winking at Ellie who chuckles.

****

Joel stays in hospital for two weeks and you look after Ellie, preparing his home for his return, and when the doctor declares him fit to leave, he says that he needs someone to look after him. He still can’t shower by himself, he needs help eating and he struggles to walk alone. It’s going to be a long recovery for Joel. “I can help,” Ellie says without hesitation as Joel sits on the edge of the bed.

“You can’t help me do everything.” Joel grunts, knowing that he could never allow the teenage girl to help him shower or get to fucking bathroom. “I- Tommy-“ his brother has been by to visit every day, and he’s talked to him about taking Ellie. He doesn’t know how he will manage, but he also knows he can’t burden Maria and their baby with his convalesce.

“Tommy is out of town on a scouting mission.” Ellie says, knowing Joel’s brother was set on revenge for his brother’s condition. He just had to track Abby down. “I can help.” You volunteer, feeling close to him despite not having a full conversation with him. Spending time with Ellie, hearing her stories about Joel and his bravery had made you fond of him. “I can help him at home.” You offer and the doctor looks to Joel for his answer.

His eyes slide to you, unsure why you would volunteer to help him, but the doctor immediately nods. “That would be a good idea.” He agrees. “You can check his bandages and make sure that he doesn’t get an infection.” He smiles at the three of you like it’s a done deal and Joel frowns slightly, not sure if he likes the idea of you helping him.

You nod, noticing Ellie’s grateful smile, and you look at Joel, “it’s for the best. I can monitor your health and help you. I’m a nurse. It’s a medical decision.” You tell him and he grunts, knowing he doesn’t have a choice. He’s discharged and you wheel him to the doctor’s truck, knowing Joel won’t be able to walk home. You arrive outside of the house and Joel grunts, “I can walk.” He doesn’t want a wheelchair so you let him wrap his arm around you to guide him into the house. “Take your time.” You reassure him, “no need to rush.”

The shuffle is slow and painful, making him huff in irritation that he can’t move like he would want to. Even as he’s gotten older and been slower, he’s been able to move how he wanted to. Now, in a cast and recovering from nearly dying, he needs help. Ellie jumps forward to open the door and he’s glad to see that the scene that had been left from the attack you told him about has been cleaned away. He will have to thank you for that. “Fuck.” He pants, out of breath and in pain just because of the short walk from the truck to the house. “I don’t know how the fuck I’m getting upstairs.”

“We moved a bed downstairs.” You tell him, “you won’t be going upstairs for a while.” You escort him into the living room and help him settle down on the bed. He’s only wearing socks so he groans as he sits down and you help him lay on the bed. “You need to rest as much as possible. Let me get you some water. Are you hungry?” You ask, helping him settle against the pillows.

“Can you cook better than the shit they served at the hospital?” He grumbles, having not enjoyed the food there. He’s relieved to be home and his head hurts a little bit less today than before. He’s got a plate covering the fractured portion of his skull and they actually had to remove a large chunk of the bone.

You chuckle, “I like to think so. I’m glad your appetite is back. What do you feel like? I make a mean mac and cheese.” You adjust his pillow and Ellie comes to sit down next to him. “She’s a really good cook. Like really good. I’ve been helping make cheese and we even made a cake.” She tells Joel with wide eyes, shocked at how this place is like life in books she read.

“Sure.” Joel agrees, the little fissure of pain at the mention of a cake isn’t as rough as it might once have been. The last night she had been alive, Sarah had wanted a cake desperately for Joel’s birthday. “Make something the kid likes.” He suggests. “I eat anything.”

You smile, liking how he caters to Ellie, and you know that Ellie told the truth about the man she considers a father. “What do you want, sweetheart?” You ask her and she nods, “Mac and cheese.” You ask if she wants to help you while Joel gets settled in and Ellie follows you into the kitchen so you can get started on the food and you pour Joel a glass of water. “You want to take this to Joel?” You ask Ellie who takes the glass and takes it to her father figure.

Joel listens to the sound of people talking in the kitchen and it’s so strange. He can’t make out what’s being said, but he can hear voices. It’s almost unsettling that there is someone else in the safe, cozy home that he and Ellie have managed to carve out for themselves. Tommy told him that Abby, the girl who had attacked him, was the daughter of the doctor he had killed to save Ellie. His past sins were coming back to haunt him, but he doesn’t regret not letting the teen sacrifice herself for a lost cause.

Ellie comes back out to hand Joel the glass of water and he takes it, taking a sip. “Thanks, kid.” He says and she sits down at the edge of his bed. “I- I thought I was gonna lose you.” She whispers, her brown eyes meeting his, “I was scared.” She admits and Joel feels his chest tighten, tears stinging in his eyes. “But you didn’t. I survived and I ain’t going anywhere, kid.” He promises, reaching out to squeeze her hand with his free one. “She been looking after you?” He asks her, jerking his chin towards the kitchen. “Yeah. She’s been great. She cleaned this place up. Made sure I ate and showered and slept while worrying like fuck about you. She’s a good one.” Ellie says and Joel trusts her opinion. You hear what Ellie says from around the corner, some homemade chips in a bowl in your hand and you smile, liking that she trusts you. You carry the bowl in and set it down , “hope these are good. We fried them earlier today.” You say, looking between Ellie and Joel.

Joel’s brow raises and he nods. “Thanks.” It hurts to nod so he just sends you his thanks with his eyes. “For taking care of her and me now, I guess.” He sips the water and grunts when the cool liquid slides down his throat to quench his thirst. “I’m sorry for all the cursing I will be doing.” He warns you, knowing he’s never been a good patient.

You chuckle, “curse away. You’re alive. That’s all that matters.” You promise and make your way back into the kitchen to continue making dinner. It’s going to be a long path of recovery but you’re happy to help Joel get back on his feet.

****

“Shit.” Joel hisses as you help him into the downstairs bathroom to shower. “Do you, uh, I can help take off your pants.” You offer, cheeks burning as you try and help him shower for the first time since he left the hospital.

Joel isn’t a shy man, never has been, but the idea that you have to help him bathe like he is a helpless baby makes him burn with embarrassment. There’s not a goddamn thing he can do about it though, his body is still healing and he can’t get his head wet because of the stitches and staples. “Fuck.” He grunt, hoping he doesn’t really embarrass himself. The fact that he’s not gotten an erection since he’s woken up makes him wonder if something is wrong with that function. “Fuck, what the hell else am I going to do? Shower with my fuckin’ clothes on?”

You shake your head, “no. I- I have to help. I’m a nurse. I am a professional.” You tell him even though that doesn’t hold much weight in today’s world. “Let me help you.” You reach in to turn on the water to heat it up and you reach for Joel’s shirt. “Keep still.” You murmur, working the buttons open. He probably prefers t-shirts but the button down is required so he doesn’t jostle his head. He is still weak so he lets you push the shirt off of his shoulders. “Pants next.” You declare and hook your fingers in the sweatpants, dragging them down his legs and he’s naked under them so it's easier for him to use the bathroom. He steps out of them and you try not to appraise his naked form. He’s still healing but he’s gorgeous.

“Sorry.” He huffs, knowing that the last thing you want to do is to help an old man bathe, his still bruised body on display. Luckily, there were still medical supply devices like a chair to sit in the shower to make it easier for him, although he knows you will get wet helping him. His dormant cock twitches slightly and his eyes widen at the sensation.

You focus on looking after him and not on his body, which even though bruised, is still beautiful. You know your clothes will get soaked but that’s okay, you don’t want to strip off and make him uncomfortable so you step into the shower and help him sit down on the chair. “Temperature okay?” You ask and he nods. You grab the soap you made last week and hold it out. “You want to do it or shall I?” You ask, knowing you’ll need to wash his face so he doesn’t get his head wet.

He hates to admit that he’s so damn tired after getting into the shower, he just wants you to do it. Grunting, he shakes his head slightly and winces when he feels a little pain. “Just do it.” He tells you, not wanting this to become some kind of pissing match. “Feel like a damn baby.”

You nod, “I understand but this is the best thing for you, honey. You need to focus on healing. You nearly died so being showered isn’t the worst thing in the world.” You put it in perspective for him. You lather up your hands and work on washing his back. He groans and your stomach twists with forbidden arousal. He’s injured, recovering, you shouldn’t feel attracted to him.

“Does it hurt?” Your soft question is almost arousing, murmuring in his ear but he grunts. “No.” His voice comes out raspy and raw. “Feels good.” He’s still so damn sore and your hands on his skin feels like a massage. “It’s feeling really good.”

You continue working on washing him, mindful of his bruises. “Good.” You murmur, “I’m so sorry this happened to you.” You say as you massage the soap into his black and blue back. “Tommy tried to find them but they were gone.” You reveal, “they are gone.”

“It’s my fault.” Joel murmurs quietly, closing his eyes and trying to forget the moment he had killed that doctor, but it plays behind his lids. “How could you deserve something like this?” You snort, but he sighs softly. “I killed her father.” He reveals. “He was a doctor, for the Fireflies. They believed Ellie was the answer to a cure.” He opens his eyes, frowning. “They were going to remove her brain.”

You gasp, your hands freezing on his back. "They - does she know?" You whisper and Joel shakes his head. "She can't." You declare, having gotten to know Ellie enough to know that she would sacrifice herself. He nods, "I can't - I lied to her. I can't lose her." He confesses and you rub his back, "you won't. Secret's safe with me." You promise, "you didn't deserve this, Joel. No one does. This world...it's cruel but we have our little piece of paradise here. We just gotta protect it."

Even though he knows it would never absolve him of his sins, your words are a balm to his spirit. Soothing him and making him relax even more. “It’s nice here.” He murmurs softly. “Sarah would love it here.”

Ellie had briefly discussed the daughter that Joel lost on Outbreak Day and you rub his shoulders, “we are lucky. Not QZ, not the Wild West. We are safe and our commune is thriving.” You hum, “Ellie is lucky to have you.” You murmur and he hisses when you press a little too hard, “I’m sorry.” You grab the rag and lather it up, “you, uh, want to wash your -” Your cheeks heat up at the thought and he takes the rag without a word.

Joel washes his groin quickly, gritting his teeth when his long neglected cock starts to stir from the simple touch and the smell of your soap. He has noticed it every time he gets your help to use the bathroom and he is now covered in it. “Help me.” He grunts, trying to push to his feet so he can wash his ass.

You wrap your arms under his armpits, helping him stand and he grunts as he washes his ass. When he’s done, you rinse him off and shut off the water, grabbing the towel around his waist. “You good?” You ask and he nods, “yeah. Just feel like a fucking baby.” You chuckle, “at least you don’t need breastfeeding.”

“Fuck.” He huffs and blurts out, “that would be more fun,” before he even realizes how inappropriate it would be. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He grunts, blushing slightly.

You snort and smile, “I think we are beyond apologies now, huh?” You say, knowing you’ve helped him to the bathroom and now helped him shower. “Let’s get you redressed and I’ll heat up the soup I made earlier for you.” You tell him and grab the clean clothes you set aside for him.

His bedroom is what used to be the downstairs office. It’s got some doors for privacy, but more often than not, they are kept open until he needs to change. It makes it easier. “I didn’t ask, how do you like that bed?” His bedroom upstairs had become yours since they had broken down the smaller bed from the third bedroom. Joel wouldn’t let you sleep on the couch, telling you he could piss in a bottle in the middle of the night if he needed to. You deserved to sleep in a real bed for helping him.

“It’s good. Nice and comfy. I have no complaints.” You tell him, knowing your roommate, Sandra, will be enjoying the peace and quiet on her own in your house. “I hope it’s comfortable here.” You help him pull the shirt over his head and you kneel down so he can step into the sweatpants.

“It’s a bed.” He’s going to be uncomfortable regardless of where he is because of how badly he had been beaten. The only reason he’s alive is because she had started swinging on other parts of his body besides the head. “I think I’ll appreciate it more when I can move without wanting to cry.”

“Not too long now. You’ve overcome the worst. You’ll get there in the end.” You promise him, “you’ll get better. Ellie needs you.” You pull the sweatpants up and stand up, patting his chest. “All clean.” You smile and guide him to sit on the bed. You swing his legs onto the bed and stand up, “I’ll go get your soup, Miller.”

He watches you go, his eyes dropping down to your ass, not for the first time either. This time though, there is a punch of lust that his body responds to. Making him grunt and reach down to adjust himself slightly. You are beautiful and now that he has spent time with you, he can see why Tommy called him a lucky bastard.

****

You spend eight weeks looking after Joel. Helping him bathe until he can manage himself, feeding him, making sure he has water. It’s your priority and you are so happy he’s recovering well. He can walk properly now and the bruises have faded. “You want some cake?” You ask Joel as he walks into the kitchen where Ellie is trying to lick the spoon of the jam you made to go in the sponge cake.

“God, yes.” Joel groans, the irony of cake not being lost on him. You have been positively spoiling him and Ellie and he hates to think about when you will leave. He’s getting better and it’s about time you go back to your own life. “Are we doing a shower tonight?” The stitches are out, but he still has staples and needs help in the shower.

You nod, “yes, sir. Gotta make sure you avoid a nasty infection. We don’t have any oral antibiotics left.” You sigh, knowing that even if someone found some, they’d be expired. You and Ellie put the cake together and you cut out a slice for each of you. Setting the plate down in front of Joel, you love the way he smiles at you. It’s been impossible to keep your affection for him at bay. You’ve fallen for him, knowing that you will have to return home at some point but the grumpy yet funny man has gotten into your heart.

“Thanks.” He sends you a grateful look and sets his elbows on the table as he waits for you to sit down. “It smells incredible. You seem to enjoy cooking, or is it just something you do because you know Ellie can’t?” He teases, making the teenager huff and roll her eyes. “It’s not like I’ve had a chance to learn, man.”

You giggle and nudge Ellie, “you’ve been learning. You’ll get there. No, I, uh, I love cooking. Always have.” You admit, “I missed it a lot when I was on the outside. Cooking rabbit on a fire isn’t quite the same as cooking in a warm kitchen.” You sigh, forking up a bite of the cake.

“Yeah, campfires are temperamental, and cooking on them is even worse.” He snorts. Ellie chuckles. “When you would let us have them.” Joel shrugs slightly. “It’s dangerous out there.” He reminds her. “Hell, it’s dangerous in here too, but it’s better than out there.” He glances towards the entryway where he had collapsed when Abby nearly beat him to death.

You notice his glance and you realize once again how close to death he was. “You’re here now. Hopefully you don’t have to go back out there anytime soon.” You reach out to squeeze Joel’s hand and he smiles at you, his fork in his other hand, “you are safe for now.”

You have been incredible, and it’s almost amazing to see how you have slipped past the shell of his heart, something that only Ellie has managed since Tess. It’s hard to believe Tess has been gone as long as she has, but Joel has been slowly trying to heal emotionally as he heals physically. Thoughts of you have crept into his waking hours, causing some embarrassing moments in the showers when he gets hard, or you wake him up from an erotic dream that features you.

****

“So, the doctor gave you the all clear. Just to be careful and not do too much.” You smile at Joel as you enter the living room after the doctor left. He had done a full assessment of Joel and called his surgery a miracle - the fact that he survived is a gift from God. Ellie is out visiting Dina and you sit down next to Joel on the sofa, “I guess I can get out of your hair now. You can have your bed back and I’ll go back to my place.” You finish softly, sad to be leaving him.

Joel wipes his hands on his sweatpants, still wearing them out of habit over the past few months. “You’re probably happy as hell to be getting away.” He snorts as he looks over at you and wonders how you have become even prettier than before. He’s crazy about you, how kind you are, how you have taken Ellie under your wing and how you never rebuke him for when he gets sad and introspective. You have helped so much and he hates that you are leaving. “Maybe I need to get the shit beat out of me again, make you stick around.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. "No need to do that. All you have to do is ask me to stay and I would." You confess and your eyes widen at the way you blurted that out. You close your mouth, turning your head to stare across the room, avoiding those dark brown eyes. "I'm sorry. I-" You begin but he interrupts you. "Stay." You turn your head to look at him again, "what? You - you want me to stay?" You ask, feeling breathless.

He rolls his eyes at your question and huffs. “Do you think that I’m getting hard every time you help me shower because getting clean turns me on?” He asks bluntly. “I’ve been trying to think about anything else but you, but nothing works.”

You stare at him in shock, “I- I can’t believe - I just thought you were horny because you couldn’t jerk off.” You snort and close your eyes for a second. “I think about you. All the time.” You admit, reaching for his hand, “I had a crush on you before I came to help.” You tell him honestly, “always thought you were handsome, but now that I know you? You’re - fuck, I love you.” You confess just as breathless as your prior revelation.

His own breath stops, caught in his chest as you confess your feelings. A year ago, hell - a few months ago, he would have been denying that you felt that way. Ignoring it or being unable to respond in kind because his world was still ground to a halt, but that had changed. You and Ellie, that attack, it had changed things and made him realize that even though he had lost so many, he still had those to live for. He lunges forward and presses his lips to yours. “Love you too.” He murmurs as you gasp.

You can’t believe he’s kissing you but you reach up to cup his cheek, pressing your lips back to his, and your heart is pounding in your chest. You shift closer, cupping his other cheek and you rest your forehead against his when you pull back, caressing his stubbled cheeks. “I love you, Miller.” You smile, unable to fathom that the man you’ve fallen for loves you too.

He's panting and his heart is beating wildly in his chest. Already turned on again and starting to tent his sweats and all you've done is shared one kiss. Reaching up, he caresses your neck and shoulder. "Are you sure? I'm fuckin' old, baby." He jokes. "And a little decrepit."

You shake your head, "you're not decrepit. Or too old. I love you, Joel. No matter what. Hell, if I can look after you like I have and still think you are sexy, you're good to go." You promise with a giggle, sliding your hands down to his chest. "And I haven't stopped thinking about you between my thighs. Inside of me." You confess in a hushed tone.

The kid is off with her friend and Joel groans quietly, having thought of nothing else for the past few days. "I don't know if I can perform worth a shit." He admits with a shake of his head. "Haven't cum since I woke up."

"I don't care. Just want to be close to you." You murmur, "don't care if you cum right away. I can ride you." You want to be close to him, to feel all of him. "I keep thinking about how you'd feel inside of me."

He's still in his downstairs bedroom and he nudges his nose against yours. "Close the doors." He rasps out, nodding towards the French doors that close off his makeshift space. "I don't want to tire myself out trying to get upstairs."

You stand up, hands shaky as you shut the doors and turn to face him. You take in the details of his face, his head shaved from his surgery so his hair is growing back patchy but he’s still so attractive. You reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and you swiftly remove your bra. Hooking your fingers in your leggings, you push them down along with your panties to stand naked in front of him. “I’ve seen yours, figured it’s only fair if you see mine.”

"It gets bigger." He jokes, aware that you have seen and politely ignored the times he's gotten hard from you helping him in the shower. "Fuck, you are beautiful." He praises breathlessly, eyes drinking in your body as he licks his lips. It's been a long goddamn time since he's been with someone, the last person was Tess, but he feels like he's about to bust if he doesn't touch you.

“So are you.” You respond as you walk towards him. “So brave. A fucking fighter.” You murmur, shifting to straddle him as he sits back on the bed. His hands immediately find your ass and you chuckle, knowing he’s watched it enough times. You cup his cheeks and lean in to kiss him, “wanna see if it gets bigger.” You joke, grinding down onto the tent in his sweats.

Joel groans, twitching underneath you and he knows he won’t have any problem performing. The problem might be that he doesn’t please you before he cums. His hand slides around your waist to dip between your thighs. Hissing when he finds you starting to get slick as he starts to slowly rub your clit.

“Oh God.” You pant, rocking down onto his hand. It’s been far too long since anyone touched you and you are whimpering at the way his thick fingers rub your bundle of nerves. You tilt your head back and he leans in to kiss along your neck, your fingers digging into his shoulder as you absorb every touch.

He groans as he learns your body. He and Tess had been comfortable, completely familiar with each other and what the other liked. The whimpers and groans rockets his arousal higher as you grind down against his fingers and he feels like he’s going to bust in his sweats. Turning his wrist, he presses his thumb against your clit and slides his fingers through your slick folds so he can press them inside you.

“I want to touch you.” You whimper and he shakes his head, “not yet. Otherwise this will be over sooner than you thought.” He grunts and you rock onto his thick fingers, stretching you out in the most delicious way. “Fuckkkk.” You exhale as he presses his finger against that spongy spot inside of you. He’s good. He knows what he’s doing.

He loves the way you respond to him, how wet you get. Sliding his hand up and down your back as he kisses along your shoulder and down to your tit. Wrapping his lips around a stiff nipple as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your wet heat.

“Shit.” You hiss, caressing his head as he suckles on your nipple like he’s trying to root. It has you quivering and you’re so close. So many nights of imagining how he’d touch you has led to you getting worked up faster than you have ever known. “Joel. Oh God, Joel. You’re gonna make me - I’m gonna-” You don’t finish your cry as you cut yourself off with a strangler choke and clamp down on his digits, soaking them with your cum.

“That’s it, fuck, good girl.” Joel pants against your breast as he pumps his fingers to help you ride out your orgasm. “You’re so goddamn good to me, ain’t ya? You creamin’ all over my fingers, making me harder than a fucking rock.” He coos praises into your skin, enjoying the way your nails bite into his shoulder through the shirt. Your pretty cunt soaked his fingers and he can only imagine how good you will feel around his cock.

His words make you choke on your breath as he works you through your orgasm. You never imagined he’d be so dirty but you love it. “Fuck, baby. Yes. I need - I need you inside of me but I want to suck your cock.” You whine, reaching down to tug on the hem of his shirt, wanting him naked beneath you.

“You can’t.” Joel moans, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t last a minute. And I want to feel you, fuck, imagined it so many times.” He pants, pulling away from the back of the bed so you can pull his shirt off. “Maybe- later, if I can get it up again.” He chuckles.

You pull his shirt over his head, still mindful of his injuries, and you slide your hands down his chest, admiring his broadness. “You’re so sexy.” You murmur, reaching down to pull his cock out of his sweatpants, wanting to see him in this light. You’ve seen his cock plenty of times but now you know he’s hard for you and it’s intoxicating. You pump him and he groans out a warning so you shift to lift your hips, positioning him at your entrance and you slowly sink down onto him.

“Fuuuuuuuuck.” His hands grip your hips harshly and he clenches his jaw as you take him. You are hot and tight like a glove around his cock, clenching around him as your walls flutter. Your ass presses against his thighs and he rocks his hips up. “Fuck, that’s - fuck, gimme a minute.” He begs, feeling like he’s about to cum. “Let me- calm down.”

You nod, stilling on top of him, and you caress his chest. He exhales shakily and you lean in to kiss him, “take your time, baby. I’m in no rush.” You promise and kiss along his jaw, loving how he stretches you out.

It’s been so long since he’s felt this close to anyone, your breath blows against his skin and he shivers. Closing his eyes as he holds you still. “Fuck, I love you.” He murmurs quietly, aware that this is something that he shouldn’t even have, he should have died. But he’s here and he’s going to live for the moment and bask in the forgiveness of your touch.

You close your eyes at his words, loving how he caresses you, and you tilt your head to look at him. “I love you too. You’re so much more than you think you are.” You murmur, caressing his cheek, and you experimentally rock your hips. His groan makes your stomach clench and you rock again, starting slow as he moves inside of you.

“Shit.” He hisses quietly, opening his eyes to watch as you start to move. “You’re so pretty, so fuckin’ pretty.” He promises as he starts to slide his hands up and down your back. “You feel so good, does it feel good for you?”

His words make your heart pound in your chest and you nod, “feels so good. You feel so damn big inside of me.” You confess breathlessly, “stretching me out. It’s been so long since I had sex. You need to- to pull out so tell me if you’re close.” You remind him, not wanting an accidental pregnancy right now.

Joel grunts, looking into your eyes as he nods. “I will.” He promises. Safe sex isn’t really a thing to be had but hopefully there’s not something to come of this. You are right to remind him. “I’m good baby, ride me.”

You take his word and start to move faster. Your hands gripping his shoulders as you start to move on top of him, moaning at the way he twitches inside of you. "Fuck, you feel so good." You pant, chest heaving as his cock curves just right inside of you.

Joel grunts and leans forward to press his lips to yours, biting your bottom lip after he kisses you. Your breasts brush against his chest and he pulls you closer, craving the feel of your skin against his.

You moan into his mouth, loving how strong her feels, how he’s recovered and he’s stronger for it mentally. You rock down onto his cock, loving the way he twitches inside of you, and you are getting close. Just the feel of having the man you love inside of you is pushing you higher. “Oh shit.” You whimper when you find the right spot and you reach down to rub your clit, pushing yourself closer to the edge.

“That’s it pretty girl, making yourself cum.” Joel groans, watching you touch yourself with dark eyes. It’s so sexy and he can’t get enough of it. “Make yourself cum on my cock. I want to feel it, see it. Show me what you look like.”

You nod, mouth open as you work yourself higher until you finally fall over the edge. A cry escapes your lips as you cum, moaning his name and you clamp down on his cock, soaking him while your orgasm rocks through you.

His eyes roll back in pleasure as he feels you squeezing him and he knows he will be cumming any second. “Sweethea-rt, you gotta-“ he grits his teeth as he jerks your body up off his cock so he can keep his promise to you, panting as he spurts all over his stomach and chest.

You watch him as he cums and you love it. The way he looks is intoxicating and you lean in to kiss him. “Fuck, I love you.” You murmur, leaning in to kiss him as he pants your name.

He kisses you back eagerly, reaching for his shirt to wipe away the mess so you can lean against him. “Fuck, that was- I can’t even-“ he chuckles quietly and kisses you again. “What do you think about moving in permanently?”

You smile as he looks at you, his dark eyes soft, and you cup his cheeks. “Yes. Absolutely.” Your smile turns into a grin, excited to explore this next step with Joel. “I was dreading going home and I would miss you and Ellie like crazy.” You confess, “I want to stay.”

“Good.” He pauses for a moment and then he admits, “it’s felt like a proper home with you here. Ellie, she loves you too.” He tells you softly. “I think she imagines we are a family.”

“I imagine that too. She’s like a daughter to me.” You confess, “I want to make this a home and I want to be yours. Be in your bed every night. Be by your side no matter what.” You promise and Joel smiles, cupping your cheek, “sounds amazing, baby.”

****

“Joel.” You say his name as he takes a sip of whiskey. Ellie is watching a movie with the other kids in the barn and you decided to cook a romantic dinner for Joel, wanting to ask him something. He looks at you and you tilt your head, appraising him. You pick up your glass and take a sip, your throat suddenly dry. “Everything okay, baby?” He asks and you nod, squaring your shoulders. “I want a baby.” You announce, bracing yourself for him to say no.

Joel freezes, waiting for the familiar ache to take over his chest. For this vision to blur and his breathing to turn into short bursts as thoughts of Sarah take over. As the sounds of her rapid, panicked last breaths fill his ears. It never comes.

He doesn’t panic at the thought of having a child that could remind him of Sarah. Ellie does in some ways, but she’s a completely different type of girl. One raised in the world outside the safety of the walls of Jackson. If you had a child here, they would be innocent in some ways Ellie was not, more like Sarah. “A baby, huh?” He murmurs after a moment. “With me?” He asks. “I’m nearly sixty, baby. You want that?”

You sense his hesitation and you feel like backtracking but you think about the nights you’ve spent awake pondering this, weighing the pros and cons of having his baby in this world. You reach for his hand, “I know and I still want it. Spending time with Ellie, helping with your nephew, it’s made me realize that I can do it. It’s hard, always hard being a mother, but I’m ready and I want a baby. I want a baby that will carry our legacy, a baby that will grow up safe and capable. We will make sure of it. Unless you don’t want that, which is - it’s fine. I’ll handle your decision. We both have to want this, Joel. Not just me. Don’t do it for me. I want you to want this too and if you don’t, then that’s case closed.” You promise, not wanting to pressure him.

Joel squeezes your hand gently, reminded of the nights he had woken in a cold sweat, sometimes from the broken memories of him being attacked or the memory of losing Sarah. You have been right beside him, offering him comfort and solace. He’s told you about that night, sharing with you memories that he has kept bottled for over twenty years. You had cried in his arms like you had been Sarah’s mother, assuring him that he had done everything right to try to protect his baby girl. The fact that he’s not immediately said no is very insightful and he bites his lip and watches you with a softness that even a year ago, he was unsure he was capable of. “It’s been a looooong time since 2 AM feedings and my hearing is shot.” He snorts, smiling slightly. “You’ll have to poke me to wake me up if you want me to get up with a baby.”

You smile, loving the way he has agreed to having a baby with you. “You’re forgetting the best part about deciding to have a baby….” You trail off and smirk, “the trying.” He returns your smirk and you giggle, standing up from your seat and you round the table to sit in his lap. “I love you.” You murmur when you’re settled in his lap, reaching up to caress his cheek. “I want you to fuck a baby into me, Joel.”

“Fuck, that’s hotter than I ever imagined.” Joel grunts, twitching underneath you. His sex drive isn’t completely on par with yours, but he keeps up and keeps you satisfied in other ways. You’ve told him you don’t regret being with him at all. Which is another balm on his battered soul. “You want me to cum in that pretty pussy?” He asks, squeezing your ass. “Imagined how you would look dripping me a few times.”

You moan, kissing along his jaw as his words wash over you. “I want you to cum inside of me. Put a baby in me.” You plead, wiggling on his lap. His hair has grown back now, more gray in it, but you love it, and you reach up to run your fingers through his hair.

He groans and captures your lips with his, licking into your mouth immediately as the easy passion blooms between you. His hands move to start stripping you down.

It doesn’t take long for you and Joel to be naked. You stumbled up the stairs to your bedroom, clothes scattered on the trail upstairs and when you lay down on the bed, Joel is immediately hovering over you. Your heart is pounding in your chest and his hand slides along your thigh, cupping your pussy. “I don’t want foreplay. I just want you. Want to feel all of you.” You murmur, caressing his shoulders.

There are times when you want the burn of his cock stretching you out and tonight is one of those nights it seems. That’s good because Joel is impatient to get inside you. He takes his cock in hand and pumps it a few times as he shuffles forward to press against your entrance. “I love you.” He murmurs.

He pushes inside of you, stretching you out, and you gasp out “love you too.” He pushes inside of you until he’s fully seated and you take a deep breath, enjoying the weight of his body on top of yours and the weight of the moment. Deciding to take this step together has your body primed and ready for him. He starts to move inside of you and you wrap your legs around his waist, moaning at the way he rocks into you.

Nearly dying hadn’t had the lasting effects that the doctors had feared when Joel had been brought in. His thrusts are steady, if not a little harder than normal, although he keeps the pace sedate. Not rushing, but he enjoys burying himself as deep as he can go and watching your eyes roll back in pleasure. “Gonna knock you up.” He grunts out.

His words make you clench around him, your hands sliding down his back to squeeze his ass. His recovery has been a miracle from the man who was on death's door to the man currently making love to you trying to get you pregnant. You whimper when his lips find your neck and you rock your hips up to try and meet his.

Every time the two of you come together, Joel remembers how lucky he is. His kisses trail along your throat as he groans into your skin. Both of you give and take from each other. “Fuck, baby.” Joel moans, his body tensing when you clench down around him again. “You gonna cum before I fill you up? Love it when you soak my cock.”

You nod, "yes baby. I - shit - you always feel so good." You slide one hand down between you so you can rub your clit. He immediately bats your hand away after shifting his weight onto one elbow. You moan when he rubs your clit just right, his hips pushing into your ass as you take him deep inside of you. "Shit. Joel. You - I'm - God." You cry out as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him.

“That’s it, good girl, goooooood girl.” Joel moans, clenching his teeth as you come apart around him. He feels his own body is ready to cum, excited by the situation and it only takes a few more thrusts. Instead of pulling his hips back, he plunges them forward, embedding himself deep as he paints your womb with his seed. “Fuck, fuck.” He pants, closing his eyes as he rides out his orgasm, amazed at how good it feels. “You’ll be pregnant in no time.”

You smile against his lips when he leans in to kiss you and you’re so hopeful for the future with Joel. A baby that looks like the two of you combined. You are excited and when he pulls out, you keep his cum inside of you, trying to make sure that it takes. You’ll be pregnant in no time.

****

“Sweetheart….I’m supposed to go ride the southern border and check the area.” You’ve quieted down over the past few hours, but he can still see the sadness lurking in your eyes. You’ve stopped blaming yourself but he knows those thoughts are bouncing around and he’s reluctant to leave you. “Do you want me to have Tommy go? Stay here with you?”

You shake your head, eyes sore from crying, “no baby. Just go. I’ll be fine. Ellie will be back soon.” You murmur, keeping your back turned towards him. You feel useless, you feel broken, and you feel exhausted. You’ve tried so hard to get pregnant. You even researched old wives tales about how to get pregnant. You’ve taken herbs, teas, anything you can to get pregnant and after trying for so long, you’re exhausted.

He worries about you, leaning over and pressing his lips to your forehead. “I’ll be back as quickly as possible and I’ll make dinner tonight.” He offers. It’s the historical Mother’s Day today, and he knows you will be extra glum since you are once again not pregnant. Sometimes he wonders if he should just tell you that he’s changed his mind, taking the guilt and worry about it off your shoulders. You can blame him for not having a child. “Okay?”

“Sure.” You murmur, closing your eyes as a cramp contracts in your stomach, making you curl into a ball. You really thought this was it. Your period was two weeks late and you didn’t tell Joel because you wanted to surprise him and then you got your period. You sniff and Joel sighs, shuffling out of the bed to get ready for his shift. You can’t blame him. He’s had a kid. It’s got to be you that’s the issue.

He’ll look for some wildflowers for you while he’s out. They always make you smile and tonight, he will do his best to make sure that you know that no matter what, he loves you. He thinks about all this while he puts his clothes on and brushes his teeth, coming out of the bathroom to find you still curled up. “Go soak in a hot bath, baby.” He suggests, walking over to the bed and kissing your cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

You listen to him go and you know it's technically Mother's Day today. Salt in the wound. You swallow harshly and wait until the front door closes before you allow yourself to sob again. You can't believe you aren't pregnant. You've tried so hard. Maybe you aren't meant to be a mother.

Saddling the horse and getting let out of the gates of Jackson has Joel on autopilot. Most often the scouting parties are in groups, but today had been just singles, most men in the community wanting to spend time with their wives and celebrate them. The grass is green and lush; there's a certain beauty to the mild spring transitioning into warmer weather. Urging the horse forward, he is eager to finish the patrol so he can get back to you.

You have your bath, eyes sore from sobbing, and you try to come to terms that you’re never going to be a mother. It’s just not in the cards. You love Ellie and you think of her as your daughter but you wanted a baby, a combination of you and Joel to love and care for in this new world. That isn’t going to happen and you curl around yourself in bed after you’re dry, trying to cope with that fact.

Pulling the reins, Joel listens carefully, certain that he has just heard a cry. His hand goes to his rifle to pull it off his shoulder. Wary of traps or ruses to draw unsuspecting people in, he scans the area. Silence lingers long enough until he’s almost convinced he was hearing things when there’s another, louder cry. A baby. His eyes widen and he nudges the horse forward again. “Hello?” He cups his hand and calls out, wondering if there is a group traveling nearby. There must be, if there is a baby. Mountain lions and things that can sound like a baby crying are farther up in the mountains. Instead of the sound quieting, the crying turns into screaming, giving him a direction to head towards. Joel keeps his rifle up and guides the horse with his knees when he almost stumbles upon the scene.

“Shit!” There’s a woman lying on the ground, face down with a carrier on her back, a small baby - no more than three or four months old - screaming from the restraints. He scans the areas again, looking for a trap, but there’s nothing moving. The baby's howls prompts him to dismount and move towards the woman, his rifle pointed at her until he reaches them and nudges her with his boot. Wondering if she’s been changed and cannot get to the baby, although he’s never seen one go dormant with a human around and making noise. “Hey…” prodding her doesn’t make her move and Joel scans the area again, the open range not a good spot to plan an ambush, but someone could be hiding in the tall grass. Carefully kneeling down, he grabs a bony thin shoulder and turns the woman enough to see that her gaunt face and shrunken eyes are lifeless. “Shit.” He hisses, looking back at the baby who is almost as bad as the mother. From what it looks like, this poor woman had been traveling to find shelter, food, anything for her and her baby and she collapsed less than two miles from salvation.

Joel sighs as he sets the rifle down and rolls the body on its side. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs quietly, his heart clenching at the reality of the situation, reaching out to close the woman’s eyes before unbuckling the strap for the carrier that is across her chest.

Ellie returns before Joel does and you offer her a smile as she says hello. “I, uh, I made you something.” She says, handing you a piece of paper. It’s a card. “Happy Mother’s Day” it says and your heart clenches. A genuine smile on your face as you realize she made this for you. You open it and tears sting in your eyes as you read her scrawled handwriting. “Thank you for being the mom I never had.” She wrote and you choke, reaching for her. “I love you so much sweetheart.” You pull her close, reminded that you have a beautiful daughter who loves you. “I love you too.” She murmurs, holding you just as tight. The front door opens and you pull back as you hear a baby crying. “Joel?” You gasp when your partner walks into the kitchen.

“Ellie….go to Tommy’s and get a bottle.” He orders the teenager as he starts to pull the baby carrier off his own chest to take the baby out. He had brought the body back, but this baby needed milk as soon as he could get it for her. “I found her,” he explains. “A woman collapsed two miles away from Jackson, she starved to death.” He motions you over. “At least, I think it’s a girl.”

Your eyes widen as he cradles the baby and you reach out to take them into your arms. The baby’s diaper is dirty and you shush them as you walk over to grab an old dish towel from the drawer as a makeshift diaper. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” You coo, unwrapping the baby on the kitchen table and you tell Joel to get a wet cloth. You work on cleaning up the baby, “it’s a girl.” You announce and wrap her in the dishtowel, using the pin from her old diaper. “It’s okay sweetheart. You’re okay, sweet girl. You’re safe and we are going to get you milk.” You promise, cradling her as you turn back towards Joel. “Her poor mother. So close to salvation.” You sigh, shaking your head at the tragedy.

“I brought her back.” Joel tells you quietly, watching as you bounce the baby girl in your arms and coo at her to calm her down. “Hoping something in her bag would tell us where she’s from, what the baby’s name is.” He sighs softly. “I couldn’t leave her out there.”

“Her mother deserves a service, a burial. We must give this little one a place to visit her mother.” You murmur, stroking her cheek. She’s gorgeous, her eyes watching you, and you try to not get too attached to her, knowing that Maria and Tommy will be handling the situation.

Ellie comes bursting into the house. “Got a bottle!” She yells, thundering down the hall to rush into the kitchen. “Tommy and Maria are coming too.” She pants, quickly handing the full bottle of milk to you. The baby is obviously hungry because the second that you brush the nipple against her mouth, she shakes her little head furiously as she tries to get it in her mouth, crying out before the nipple is in and immediately starting to suckle hungrily with great, greedy gulps.

“We will need more. Tommy and Maria have everything for a baby. We - they should take her.” You murmur, knowing it will be hard to hand the baby over but she isn’t yours and the leader needs to make a decision on her placement.

Joel takes one look at the way you hold this baby while she’s eating and knows that’s not what needs to happen. This baby is your chance to be a mother, to feel like a mother. It’s like it was fate for him to be out there and find her today, to bring her to you. “I think we should keep her.” Joel tells you, coming up and laying his hand on your shoulder. “Tommy and Maria have a lot on their plate with one baby already.”

Your eyes widen as you look at him then back at the baby. “We - us - are you - Joel.” You whisper, a soft smile on your face as you dare to hope that you can keep the little girl. It feels wrong. Her mother just died, but she can’t be left alone. She needs someone to look after her.

The front door opens. “Joel?” Tommy’s voice floats through the house and Joel keeps looking at you with the baby. “In the kitchen.” He calls out. The guards at the gates had kept his horse with the poor woman’s body and he had known Tommy and Maria would come to find out what the hell happened, but he wanted to get the baby here first. Footsteps quickly sound out, two sets of them like he expected and the baby is still greedily sucking away at the milk when his brother and sister in law come into the kitchen.

You look up as Maria walks in, her baby strapped to her chest, and she immediately comes over to see the baby in your arms. “Oh, she’s a sweet little thing. She needs fattening up. Poor girl, her mom was so close to our gates. She needs a mother. You should be her mother.” She says and you stare at her, “are you sure?” Maria smiles, stroking the head of her son. “She needs a mother and you are a more than capable applicant.” She gestures to the way you’re holding the baby. “I- I know this sounds insane but I feel like this is my purpose.” You murmur, looking down at her as she suckles.

Tommy smirks at Joel, who is obviously relieved by the decision. He’s talked to Tommy about the issues you’ve had trying to conceive and wished that there was some way for you to figure out what was wrong, but there just aren’t the medical resources here in Jackson. Joel had even been thinking about trying one of the universities, but couldn’t risk it again. “We both feel that way.”

You smile, cooing at the baby. “Did we find out what her name is?” You ask and Tommy nods, holding up a note that was in the mother’s satchel. “Her name is Hope.” Tommy reveals and you smile, “Hope.” You murmur, pulling the bottle away when she’s done. You shift her to your shoulder to burp her and you cradle her once she’s burped. “She’s our hope.” You declare as you look at Joel and he comes over to wrap his arm around you, looking down at the baby. “Our new daughter.” Joel murmurs, kissing your hair and he beckons Ellie over. “She’s kinda cute.” Ellie says and leans in to stare at the baby. “Hi Hope. I’m Ellie. Your big sister. I’ll teach you everything you need to know. Especially about our grumpy dad.” She jokes and Joel chuckles and rolls his eyes. “We will gather everything you’ll need and we will make sure her mother has a proper burial. For now, you guys settle in as a family.” Maria says, stepping back towards Tommy. “Oh and Happy Mother’s Day.” Maria says to you and you smile, “you too.” You may not be able to have a biological baby but you have Ellie and you have Hope. The two girls who have made you a mother.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #hbo the last of us #tlou #Happy Mother's Day

732 notes · View notes

lou-struck · 2 years ago

Text

They Said No... Part 1

Obey Me! x MC!

Featuring: Lucifer, Mammon, and Leviathan

Part 2 HERE

Part 3 HERE

~Regular projects are being put on pause because I am a bit stressed. And I feel like this will help me out.

~We all get asked to do things sometimes that we do not want to do. And it's okay to say no, but sometimes you need a little extra help to get the point across.

Warnings: Pushy Demons, talk of pact control,

Lucifer

The eldest Avatar of Pride tries to hide the spring in his step as he approaches your meeting place. He had managed to work through all of the day's paperwork, and to celebrate, he was planning on taking you out to a nice meal on the town.

But as he gets closer, he sees a few familiar noble demons practically standing over you. The polite smile that rests on your lips is betrayed by your overly tense body language and the grip you have on your DDD. Clearly, you would like to be anywhere else.

His brow furrows in concern as he focuses his attention on your conversion to see what exactly it is they want with you. Knowing that he can't just step in on your conversation without a good reason. Especially in High society.

"I will not do that; it is not right." your voice says, sounding quite annoyed at the situation you are in. It makes Lucifer chuckle to himself; you are just as headstrong as ever. But he does wonder what deed these men are asking you to do that frustrates you so.

The Demon clears his throat haughtily and steps closer to you, his companion mirroring the action, not giving you a chance to walk away. "It's for the good of the Devildom MC if you were to just use that silly little pact mark of yours and order Lucifer to drag his feet on signing off on that royal proclamation the Demon Lord has put out. We will happily be on our way and out of your hair."

Lucifer's jaw clenches furiously at the Demon's words. Ever since word of your pact with the eldest avatar of sin has spread through the Devildom, he has been waiting for insignificant worms to try and abuse the pacts. The Larger of the two demons is a known instigator of political conflict, thriving on the chaos of delayed legislation and discord. His beady eyes stare down at you condescendingly as he flares his dragonfly-shaped wings in the hope of intimidating you into doing his bidding.

"I don't use my pacts," you spit, a nervous tremor to your voice. Your strength may be great, but you haven't the energy to deal with these Demons right now. "Please leave me alone."

"You will do what I want," the Winged Demon snarls, reaching out toward your arm.

"That's enough," Lucifer cuts in, stepping down the corner as if he has only just stumbled upon this little scene. The three of you turn towards him instantly, and the two demons take a large step away from you cowardly. "Now, my human has clearly said no to whatever it was you were trying to get them to do, so be on your way."

Too afraid to say anything else, the two demons rush away, leaving you alone with the Avatar of Pride. You throw yourself into his chest, your body shaking a bit as you relax.

"I did say no, Lucifer," you say into his collar. "Did you hear me? I would never want to do that to you, I promise."

"I heard everything; you did nothing wrong." he soothes; dealing with those demons can wait for later, but for now, he needs to take care of you.

Mammon

Mammon loves to spoil you more than anything in the three realms. The days after he plays well at the casino are spent in luxury; he takes you to the best shops and restaurants in the Devildom, more than ready to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.

The café you were at is no exception with its luxuriously decadent sweets and, as Mammon had just found out, the fully stocked bathroom of complimentary samples. After sticking a handful of the mini cologne samples into his pocket, he comes back to the table to where you are sitting. But as he approaches your sweet little table in the corner, he notices you are no longer alone. The previously unoccupied seats at your table are now in use by some demons he knows.

Mammon may not be the best judge of character, but even he knows these guys are bad news. In the past, they have tried to start numerous sham businesses and fraudulent get-rich-quick schemes.

Why in Diavolo would they be talking to his human? This is supposed to be his time with you?.

He feels his protective greed towards you start to flare up as he approaches a table, his superior hearing picking up a bit of their conversation.

"Come on, doll face," the blond one coo's leaning back on the seat next to yours, "We got a great opportunity for Mammon; he just needs a bit of convincing to agree."

You shake your head now and, with a politeness that would put even Barbados to shame, and say that Mammon is perfectly capable of making these decisions for himself.

The trust that you have for your first Demon causes a heavy flush to appear on his cheeks.

"Don't be like that, Mc," the other one pushes, swinging a lazy arm over your shoulder. Not seem to care that you tense up under the weight of his unwelcome touch. "if you do this for us, two pretty influential demons will owe you a favor."

The touch is the straw that broke the camel's back. No one gets to act so freely with his human. "Oi, get yer own human," he shouts, rushing forward and pulling you from the Demon's grip. "Come on, Mc, they don't got anythin worth lookin' at."

Not caring about the uneaten treats that have just arrived at the table, he leads you away from those creeps and out of the cafe.

Once alone and safe, he shoots you a wink. "Next time, just don't say anything to those losers. The Great Mammon will keep em away."

Leviathan

Levi's merch collection is one of the most coveted of the entire Devildom. His Figurines, Manga, DVDs, and memorabilia are worth a small fortune thanks to his fascination and skill as a top Otaku.

He has a sixth sense for picking out the most sought-after merch.

His fans on his online servers love his collection almost as much as he does. Blowing up his chat whenever he unboxes a new figurine.

He loves it, but he prefers to keep his online life online. Especially when he has to leave the house to go to RAD.

Today is one of those days; although most of his classes are online, he still has to show up to campus to take exams. With his exam done, he leaves the testing center and goes to find the classroom where you are studying.

As he approaches the open door, he sees you having a conversation with a demon he thinks he recognizes.

Not one for unwanted social interaction; he waits outside only to hear the conversation that the two of you are having.

"Please, Mc, you gotta give me that figurine. Levi-chan will never love Zaramela as I do. It will be the perfect addition to my collection." they plead, sinking to their knees and staring up at you with watery avian esque eyes. Zaramela is one of Levi's favorite Idols; he won a contest the other day for one of her limited-edition singing figurines.

Levi has already turned down many people's requests to buy it, wanting to keep it for himself. But now they're going through you to try and get him to hand it over. It's so gross it makes him want to shut himself away in his room and never come out. Curiously he waits for you to respond to the crying Demon.

"He already told you that he wasn't going to give it away. "You stay calm, taking a step back to create some distance between you and the Demon. "You're just gonna have to find something else for your collection."

"No," they shout, springing to their feet, "I need her; I need her. Why don't you do this one thing for me?"

Levi knows his Henry can handle this guy, but the pushiness the Demon is showing towards you is something that makes his blood boil.

"Like MC would ever listen to a normie like you, you are a disgrace to the fandom." Levi spits with a confidence he didn't know he possessed as he takes your hand and walks you back to the house of lamination.

4K notes · View notes

caesium-55 · 10 months ago

Text

—seven days. [ iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: hi hello welcome to part three. i flunked the quiz. lemme know what you think. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED. this chapter kinda sux. can't believe i went through a breakup just last week and i still cant write decent post-breakup scenes.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab hope i didn't forget anyone.

masterlist.

you: *sent a link*

him: ?

him: what's this

you: benefits of crying

you: read it it's enlightening

him: some people do not cry over a breakup you know and that is totally okay

you: why crying helps.

you: 1. tears release toxins, stress hormones to be specific. it is good to let all the bad energy out.

you: 2. it aids sleep. no need for further explanation.

you: 3. crying releases oxytocin and endorphins. i know you don't know what an oxytocin or an endorphin is but they're happy chemicals.

you: 4. crying helps you receive the support you need from the people around you. EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY is okay, max. stop treating it like an STD.

him: it feels like an std

you: pussy

you: emotional vulnerability is a thing and it's normal so stop trying to be a big strong man when you're barely holding it together.

you: you may look fine now but i know you

him: please stop

you: no

you: 5. crying has a self soothing effect. very nice actually. it activates the rest and digest system.

him: what even is that

you: the parasympathetic nervous system

him: ??

you: this is why you shouldn't have dropped out of high school

you: education is important yknow

you: youre already lacking in three forms of intelligence, academic, emotional n social intelligence

him: fuck you im smart

you: fuck you 2 and yeah you're smart but only in geography

you: you probably can't do your taxes

him: im dutch so the company's account department do it for me by default

him: the american system is just weird

you: cant argue w/ u there

you: also, 6. crying helps restore emotional balance

you: see? you need that

you: yknow now that i think abt it you should consider seeking therapy

him: what makes you think i’m not in therapy right now

you: well have you considered getting MORE therapy?

You stand in front of the body mirror, holding the Red Bull polo shirt against your body to see how it looks on you for one last time. On your right sleeve, the word MANAGER is written in bold, white text. Because that was what you were. Just a manager.

In another universe this is not the shirt that you’d be wearing. The MANAGER would have been ENGINEER. In another another universe where your family has been well-off enough to continuously send you to karting school and you would have been the one driving the fucking car by now.

You know, if Max has even tried talking to Horner and suggested that you should be moved into the engineering team, then you wouldn't be stuck wearing this god-awful polo that burned your skin every time you wore it for work. Everybody reduced you as Max’s American manager and because you are American, most of them kind of just assumed that you're dumb, you know?

Does the world even know how smart you are? That you graduated top of your class, got the best thesis award, and that you had finished your masters just this year? Did they even know that a Japanese car company wanted you on their research team? That a NASCAR team wanted you on board as one of their engineers? Does Max even know?

Fuck no. He only knows that you're the best at ironing clothes and organizing his Google calendar and memorizing his entire coffee order by heart. He knew you're good at extinguishing kitchen fires and kicking ass in YSL Opyum heels. You doubt he knows that you can do Calculus in your sleep.

You can take it if the world puts you down for your appearance. But if the world puts you down because of your intellect? That's a different story. You'll take any insult to the face but not to your intelligence.

You have four days left in Monaco so you have begun packing already. You're right, everything did fit into three suitcases. Also, you haven't told Max yet. For some reason, you’re too anxious. Which is shocking to say the least because you never ever gets anxious when it came to Max Verstappen. You wouldn't have lasted this long working alongside Max if you were a pussy.

Max Max Max Super Max Max—

“[Name] here. Need anythin’, champ?”

Hearing a sob on the other end of the line immediately activates your fight or flight response. Your eyes widen and you toss the Red Bull shirt aside. Your legs leads you to the nearly empty shoe rack stationed beside the front door, grabbing the pair of shoes at the very top of the tiny shelf and throwing them on.

“I’m comin’ there. Hang on, Max. You wait for me, okay?”

He doesn't answer, just continuing to sob and the sound absolutely breaks your heart.

You run to his penthouse at a speed that will even put the RB19 to shame. Not even bothering to knock, you barge in and yell his name in the empty halls of his penthouse. You search in the kitchen. He's not there. The living room. Not there either. The room where his simulations are. Not there. You run to his bedroom upstairs.

The door is locked. Dammit. Panic overflooded your system.

“Max, sweetheart, you there?”

No answer, but you can hear a faint sound behind the door if you press your ear against the wood. Firefighter training covered how to open a fucking door when it was locked so this once again becomes a situation where you're grateful that you did that tiring and borderline suicidal volunteer work.

Max keeps a fire extinguisher inside his penthouse as per your advice. There is one stationed in almost every room inside his house. You knew there is one inside his room and another one just at the end of the hallway. You make a quick run for it and once you have the extinguisher in your hands, you run back to his door.

“Step away from the door!” you instructed while your mind mentally calculates your payment plan as you hit the door knob with so much force, the walls tremble at your strength. You're functioning on pure adrenaline. Your instincts only yell one thing and that is: go to Max. No one and nothing in this world will keep you from him. It isn't long until his bedroom door broke down. With one last final kick, it crumbles down from its hinges and you forcefully pry it open and sprint inside.

Max tucks himself in the tiny space in the corner of his huge bedroom, his knees shoved up to his chest. A 181-cm tall man trying to make himself as small as possible.

This is it. This is the bottled-up emotions he's been storing since Abu Dhabi. You cannot say you have not anticipated this. Max is bound to explode sooner or later.

Panic attacks have made a home in Max’s body since he was a child. That's what one gets when they’re parented by someone like Jos Verstappen. He killed Max’s soul and made the boy a machine and for what? To shape a child into a man, a racer that he wanted to be but failed to become at the cost of Max's mental health and childhood.

When Max looks up with that heartbreaking look on his face, you almost crumble. Almost, because you cannot crumble. Not when Max needs you.

Sometimes, you forget what it took for Max to become the champion that he is today. A childhood sacrificed for his dominance on the tracks. A whole lot of hatred from the people to become a WDC. And now, a love lost for his third consecutive championship.

“You came,” his voice cracks towards the end.

Your eyes soften, “You called, Max. Course I’ll come.”

You barely brace yourself for the impact that is Max’s body wrapping around yours in a tight hug. The man have literally launch himself from the floor to you at sixth gear speed. You stumble backwards slightly, holding his bed for support so the both of you won't fall down.

“Max—”

“No,” he whispers and his grip on your tightens as if he's afraid that you’ll slip away if he even tried to give your lungs space to breathe. “Don't speak. Stay.”

What Max wanted, what Max would get. So you shut your mouth, shuffle slightly so he'll be in a more comfortable position and allow him take whatever he wants from you. This will be the last chance he’ll ever do it anyway because in four days time, you’re flying to Texas.

You stay for what is probably hours in that position. Crumbled together on the floor, leaning against the side of Max’s king-sized bed. Your shirt is completely damp from his tears but you cannot even bring yourself to care about it.

“Your shoes…” It's the first time Max has spoken since the start of his meltdown.

“Hm?” you turn your head and your nose nuzzles against his hair, making you scrunch it up a little. His hair is tickling your nostrils. If you lean a little forward, your lips will meet the skin of his temple.

“They’re mismatched.”

Brows furrowed, your eyes move to your feet and see that Max is right. Your shoes are indeed mismatched. On your left is one of your Adidas slides and the other is your slip-on Skechers. You ran from one building to another in mismatched shoes. Fucking embarassing.

“Ignore them.”

Silence.

“You good now?”

“No.”

“Okay,” you say. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

You hear Max let out a shaky breath, “Just stay for a while. Don't leave me alone.”

“Okay.”

Eventually, you manage to talk Max out of the hug. You're beginning to feel claustrophobic but you do not want to say it out right so you try to negotiate instead. That's how you and Max found yourselves inside his kitchen again. You're trying to replicate your Abuela's cheesecake, which she was known for back in Austin, and Max is…well, he's Max and he’s trying to be helpful in any way he can. If it's some other day, you'd have shoved him out of the way because you prefer working alone in the kitchen. Having eyes on you gives you anxiety. But given today’s circumstances, you do not have the heart to make Max leave so you task him with doing the little stuff like mixing things and throwing shit to the trash can nearby. And he does so splendidly.

“Thank you, by the way.”

“For what, baby?” You internally wince at your own slip of the tongue. Damn that habit of yours of calling people with affectionate call signs. Thankfully, Max seems to have not noticed it.

“For coming here.”

You shrug.

“I only did what you did for me in 2021.”

Again, your breakup with Leo was bad bad. You spent a month crying for a love lost and Max was there for you. For the most part, at least. You want him to focus on winning and winning alone that you pushed him away a lot of times but you appreciated how he was more obedient to your commands, that he held his tongue so he wouldn't piss you off even though he was not liking your words, and that he was considerate of you.

“I hope you won't go into fights though,” you chuckle. “Like I did after my breakup.”

He smiles, shaking his head lightly and you know he's recalling the memory. 2021 is a hilarious year for you, the Red Bull manager. You went viral after getting into a cat fight with a girl and a whole fist fight with her boyfriend.

You and Leo called it quits a week before Monaco and even though it had been four races since then, your heart was still in a quite fragile state at that specific race weekend. One minor inconvenience was enough to ignite a wild blaze of fire within you and nobody could extinguish the flames.

After Silverstone FP1, you were leading Max to the cool down room to brief him with Horner’s relayed instructions and someone had thrown a glass bottle towards the both of you while walking. Originally, Max was the main target of the bottle but you happened to have moved towards the line of trajectory and the bottle landed on your temple, hard enough that you stumbled upon impact.

You barely heard Max’s shocked gasp and shout of panic over the sound of glass shattering on your foot because the only thing you could register was the terrifying feeling of a thick liquid trickling down the side of your face and you didn't even need to see it to know it was blood.

The only thing you saw was red and it was on fucking sight.

Fucking Hamilton fan. Fucking Hamilton. He’s in Max’s way. He’s in your way. He’s the wall that was dividing you from your dream position in the engineering team.

You shoved the iPad you were holding to Max’s hands and marched down to the woman wearing the Merc #44 merch, swiftly jumping over the barricade and grabbing her by the collar of her pristine white Versace top.

The events that followed were too fast. You grabbed her collar. She pulled your hair. You also pulled her hair. Someone pulled her away from you. You tried to grab her, clawing her bare arms with your manicured nails. She screamed. You screamed back. You pulled out some curse words in Spanish as well because cursing her in one language alone is not enough. Her boyfriend appeared. A quick punch to your cheek. You fell to the ground.

The world stood still. There was a sting on your palm because your skin got torn from the hard surface of the concrete ground. You let a bloodcurdling war cry and your Dad would definitely be disappointed at you for using the boxing techniques he taught you for self defense purposes only to fight a guy two times your size.

Everything was a bigger blur from there. But you did remember the sensation of Max’s strong arms around you, stopping you from lunging forward again. He was saying sweet words to your ear to calm you down but your brain failed to intercept them so you could hear the words, could hear his voice, but not understand any of it. You remember Christian Horner's disappointed face that haunted you even two years later. You remembered feeling so terrified as you sat outside Christian Horner’s office waiting for the final verdict while he and Max and a few of the Red Bull higher-ups argued about your future with the team. You remembered hearing Max’s loud snarl on the other side of the mahogany door: “Did you see her face?! There was blood everywhere! On her nose, on her mouth, on the fucking side of her head!” You remembered the girl taking the case to court. You remembered fearing that you’d be sent to jail. You remembered that she lost the case because it was ruled as self defense and your injuries were grave. You remembered discovering that it was Max who used all his power and got the best lawyer to fight your case. You remembered the atmosphere in the Red Bull garage shifting when you entered it a few weeks later and everyone stared the bandages and bruises. Everyone thought one thing: of course, it would also take a monster to manage a monster like Max Verstappen. You remembered Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, apologizing personally for the fight caused by his own fan. He didn't need to but he was so sincere with it that you cried when he handed you the apology flowers. God, how could you even hate this man? Your anger towards him was misplaced.

You’d been living with the guilt ever since, that you were horrifyingly violent for a day, that you were capable of killing for a day. And it could happen again. One day. God, you hoped you wouldn't have to see that day. You knew all your coworkers have been careful with angering you ever since. They're terrified of you even. Max should be, too. But then again, why would he when he already saw the horrors done by his father’s hands ever since he was a child? He was used to it.

“I won't,” he says, smiling at you. “I wouldn't want to add anymore problems for you to clean up.”

But you will not be the one cleaning it up because you resigned. You didn’t tell that to him though. Not right now. He just had a meltdown over Kelly leaving him and the news of his manager leaving him too will destroy him.

The cheesecake is a little burnt when you take it out of the oven but it actually adds more flavor to it so yeah, that's a win.

“We should drink,” you suggest.

“It’s mid-afternoon.”

“We drank at mid-afternoon yesterday,” you give him a blank stare. “With Alex and Charles, remember?”

He doesn't say anything as you make your way to his fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. Max has champagne stored somewhere but you have enough of those expensive champagnes. You need beer. Beer is good. Beer is nice. You're a beer type of person and it is time Max becomes one, too.

“I’m no scientist,” you begin, biting off the beer’s bottle cap. “But according to chemistry, alcohol is solution.”

Well, technically, edible alcohol or ethanol is not a mixture. Rather, it's a pure substance that happens to be a liquid at room temperature and typical atmospheric pressure. Pure ethanol is not a solution. Hard spirits though? That's a solution.

Beer is not a hard spirit. It's more of a fermented drink. But Max doesn't know that, though, so you don't bother explaining the science behind it.

Somewhere down the road, the two of you move to his living room. You use the Youtube app in his TV to search karaoke video and have the bestest time of your lives. You're screaming along some Daddy Yankee and El Alfa songs and Max doesn't know how to speak Spanish so he’s just vibing to it.

At 5 PM, you pull out Max’s expensive vodka bottle. Now this is the real shit. The ten bottles of beer? Those are just pregame. Max is already drunk with just those because he’s a pussy but you’re no pussy, so the only right answer is vodka! Viva la vodka or whatever.

Your throat gets tired of singing and Max gets tired from dancing, too, so you both decide to just go entertain yourselves in other ways. First, you introduced Max to beer-pong. He loses, of course. He sucks at everything not racing. Then, the two of you move onto chess. Max gives up mid-game. He cannot understand the rules. Then, lastly, you move to the billiard table Max owned. He only used it when the other guys are over and you do not even know why he bought it when he sucked at playing billiards.

“You know what Kelly said the morning before the race?” Max suddenly says and you look up at him, brow raising slightly. He’s drunk; his skin is flushed and he is all giggly and smile-y as he sits on the billiard table’s side rail and using the billiard stick as some sort of support stand to keep him from falling. You hope he won't accidentally poke himself. You're no better, too. Ten beer bottles and a few glasses of vodka. But you’re not as drunk as Max, and you still have a straight vision and you can still sink the colored balls into the pockets of the billiard table.

“Hm?”

“That it was unfair for her.”

You raise a questioning brow, “Why?”

“I bought shoes and they don't fit her.”

You blink. He laughs at himself as if he has uttered the funniest joke in the world.

“Three years of relationship gone because of a single pair of shoes,” he continues. “She wanted those shoes, too.”

Kelly….what the fuck?

“But that's okay. She….She made me open my eyes, you know? She made me realize what I truly love.”

“Racing.” It's not even a question. It's the truth.

Max stares at you, long and hard, and you look away first because you fear that if you allow yourself to stare too long, you’ll drown in those beautiful blues. This is enough heartache for the day. No need to add more.

“Hey [Name],” he begins. “If I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?”

#manager!reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #formula one #fanfic #angst #mv1 #mv33 x reader #mv33

575 notes · View notes

delphi-shield · 1 year ago

Text

push and pull // leon s. kennedy & jill valentine

Leon x Reader x Jill Smut wc: 2,860 mdni - 18+ read on ao3

the plumber at my house reading this over my shoulder: 😲 this has been in my drafts for like two months, i finally ripped the bandaid off and touched it up. i cant believe people want the jill/leon ship name to be jilleon when 'breakfast sandwich' is right there. ohh nooo i had to cut the scene where they high-five after you cum...... guess i'll have to write more jill and leon......what a tragedy.....

summary: Jill said she'd be home two hours ago. She's stood you up for dinner again. You're so upset, Leon's got to fuck you about it to make you feel better.

content: fem!reader, all porn no plot, piv (reader receiving), some praise from leon & some degradation from jill, spit, crying, hair-pulling, masturbation, blowjob, dom!jill, use of strap-on, established poly relationship, sorry yeah there's more religious imagery, stealing the jill & leon dynamic from this post, fucking your relationship problems away does not work and you should not attempt. very loosely proofread.

Jill's late.

She promised. You cooked, you cleaned, and she promised she would be here. Bought a special candle and everything, three wick, fresh linen scent. Not your kind of thing, but you know she likes those clean, bright smells.

The first half hour, you’d clung to the idea that her physical therapy appointment was just running late. Forty-five minutes in, three unanswered texts, your hope diminishes. An hour, and Leon’s helping you put the food up and clean the dishes.

Leon’s not exactly happy with Jill. This isn’t the first time she’s done this to you. He hates to see you pout. Even more than that, he hates to see the way you’re trying not to cry in front of him. He does everything he can think of to make you feel better. Watch one of your godawful shows with you, play with your hair for you, give you a nice bath if you wanted - none of his offers made much of a difference. He knows better than to take it personally. He’s not Jill. He can’t fix what she broke.

He can fuck you about it, though. That always seems to take your mind off things, at least for a little while.

He let you use him however you like, dealer’s choice. You wanted him in the dining room chair, wanted to ride him slow, grind down on that fat cock till you unwound and your pretty tears weren’t because your girlfriend stood you up, and that’s what you’d get. Not his first choice, but he’s not the one who looks so pretty with those big, wet eyes.

The only downside is that you can't hear Jill's key turning in the door when Leon's got his cock stuffed so deep in your pussy you can feel him in your ribs, when you’re too busy rocking yourself to a gradual, slow-built end. You'd missed your ringtone too - and Leon's for that matter. You weren't intentionally being petty, but intentions never did soothe Jill's moods.

"Nice," she drawls, dropping her bag with a thud. "Real nice."

Your head falls back just enough to get a look at her, pouting in the doorway. Maybe it's supposed to be intimidating. Really, she just looks like a dejected cat, all puffed up for attention. The hand splayed on Leon’s chest flops back uselessly, reaching for her.

“Jill -”

Leon’s hips jut up, reminding you he's here, reminding you who's inside you. Whatever you were going to say melts away into a whine so pathetic even you want to roll your eyes.

"Got started without you," Leon says, callous on your behalf. His hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you back to him. It doesn’t take much prompting for you to curl back into his chest, walls fluttering around his cock, gripping him like your life depends on it. "Saved you some dinner. It’s in the fridge."

How can he be so casual? Feels like you’ve got lava running through your blood. His hands settle on your hips again, push-pulling you back and forth to get you to grind again. You oblige, faster than before, mouthing open kisses against his neck. They ought to canonize him for his patience, crown him Patron Saint of Not Plowing You Into The Carpet.

Jill doesn't say a word. She marches off to the bedroom, leaving her boots behind as she goes. Her cardigan gets flung over the couch - poor thing. It didn't do anything wrong.

She’ll come out when she’s ready, you tell yourself. Ignoring the ingrained need to manage Jill’s emotions for her is hard, but not quite as hard as Leon’s dick. Makes it a little easier to forget. You press your moans into Leon’s skin, let him have them for safekeeping.

Her footsteps pound back into the room. You don't know what she's done that's so funny, but Leon shakes with a laugh. You move to look, and his palm pressing against your cheek stops you. Something clatters onto the dining room table, a heavy thunk and buckles. He presses a light kiss to the crown of your head, strokes your hair.

"Go ahead and finish up, baby. Doin' so good. All yours."

It's all the permission you really need. It doesn’t take long - you’re good for him, after all. So good, you don't even need his help. You just need him to hold you up when that slow heat finally expands, spreads like fire through your limbs and leaves you making a mess of his lap, baptizing his cock with your release and moaning hymns for him.

You slump against him, eyes heavy and limbs loose. Your head nestles against his chest, his heart hammering like crazy. Poor guy. So patient. So sweet. You want to offer to take care of that for him - he's still inside you, sitting so still and so good, the stretch all you need. It feels like a bomb went off in your skull, though, scattered all your thoughts around the apartment. You need a moment before you can be considerate, before you can formulate any kind of offer. You reach up, pat his cheek gently to tell him how good he made you feel, lazily kiss at the hollow of his throat.

Jill's got plenty of words, though. She's not the one who just fell apart.

"You so needy you can't wait forty-five minutes?"

"Closer to an hour," Leon counters, and for the first time you hear the strain in his voice. "More like two, actually."

Jill’s irritation boils over. "Shut up. Why don't you go jerk off in the corner?"

After all, he's supposed to be on her side. He's the one who knows what this life is like, the one who knows what their work entails and the stress of it all.

He's also the one who texts when he's running late. He's the one still on active deployment, the one who hadn't been dodging home like the plague. He got over himself a year ago, figured ways to deal with his emotions that didn’t include running as fast as he could, drinking until they drowned, or working himself to the bone.

Jill’s still working on that part. Again - saint-like patience.

“Maybe I will,” he says, casual as he can. He jostles you in his arms. He’d say it’s to keep you awake, but it’s mostly to keep his dick hard. You pulse around him, groan into his t-shirt and drool a little dark patch onto his shirt.

You’re all soft and pliable when her hands slide up your sides, fingers curling in the spaces between your ribs. You lean back to her, longing for the softness of her tits under your head, and you glide back through the air unsupported, like you’ve faded through the ghost of her. Your head lolls back, pretty, pathetic pout on your swollen lips.

“Gonna be good?” She asks, staring down her nose at you, eyes half lidded. You nod your head. Her eyes narrow. “Words.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Shifting you off of Leon's lap is a group effort, one that Leon doesn't particularly care to be too enthusiastic about. His poor dick is lonely, and fucking his fist is a poor substitute for the sticky warmth of your cunt. Jill cradles you in here arms - the first hint of tenderness you've had from her all night - and settles you on the floor in front of the couch. She kicks your legs into position, sways back to appraise your form, and gives you a long-suffering sigh that's a far cry from approval.

"Whatever," she mutters under her breath. "It'll do. Don't move."

She shuffles off to the side. You hear the rustle of fabric. You turn your head to look, and -

"I said don't fuckin' move."

Your head snaps to the front again, hands fisted against the tops of your thighs. No arguing with that tone. Your back is ramrod straight. There's movement to your right, and Leon finally comes into view, settling against the far side of the couch. He's at least kind enough to give you a show, stroking his cock for you in long, slow strokes, massaging his palm over that shiny red tip and sliding his own fluid down to squeeze at the base. Makes your mouth water just looking at him.

Not that you have to wait long for a treat. Jill finishes her prep work, drags herself back over to the couch and drops down in front of you, strap-on making you go crosseyed.

“Go on,” she sighs, waving her hand lazily. Like she’s doing you a favor.

And she is. It’s a privilege to suck her strap.

You rock onto your knees and take too much of her at once, gag yourself right off the bat in your eagerness. They both groan, Jill in exasperation, Leon because holy fuck, if he hears you make that noise again he's going to blow his load immediately. His hand shucks his t-shirt up. He's not trying to stain this shirt with cum. Not his cum, anyway.

"Your mouth is so perfect for this," Jill says, leaning forward and fisting a hand in your hair, "and you're still so bad at it. Do I have to show you how to do everything?"

You nod uselessly, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Jill rolls her eyes, smothers the hint of a smile that threatens to twist her lips up. She guides your head back to the head of her silicone cock and sets an easy pace for you. Lets you take it nice and slow, get accustomed to the weight of her cock on your tongue as if you haven't done this a hundred times - as if she knows you went too hard right off the bat just to get her to guide you like this.

"There you go," she drones, the praise feeling like anything but. You bob your head freely, her hand in your hair just a suggestion now. "Finally figured it out. Not as dumb you look."

You push further, tucking your thumb tight in your fist and gagging only a little when the head of her cock prods at the back of your throat. Leon's hips buck into his fist, quick and rhythmless, swearing under his breath. His leg kicks out, nudges Jill's calf and you swear she's going to snap at him.

Your eyes cut from Jill to Leon, a tear rolling down your cheek, and that’s the final push that has him cumming all over his stomach, head tipped back into the arm of the couch, pretty moans so loud, so perfect that it makes you feel your heartbeat in your pussy.

You don’t have time to savor the way that he looks, paint him in your mind and hang it up on the walls around your skull like a pin-up. Jill lifts you off her cock, stuffing her hands under your armpits like you’re a stray kitten. You would be, for her, if she asked. Let her slip a pretty collar around your neck, hope you’re lucky enough that it’s got a bell.

She doesn’t wait for Leon to recover, just manhandles the pair of you so your back is pressed to his chest, his cum smearing against your skin. Leon’s got that loose limbed laziness that comes with a release that built-up.

“Hold her,” Jill growls. “Stop fucking around.”

Leon's hands curled around the back of your thighs, spreading you wide for Jill. A warm chuckle rumbles through his chest and pours into you. His head ducks down, mouth by your ear.

“She's mad ‘cause I had you first.”

You turn your head, stifle your giggles in his shoulder. The silicone head of Jill's cock slides through your sopping folds, nudging at your clit. Her hips rock agonizingly slow. It’s tough to tell whether she’s teasing you or herself at this point, but your sensitive body twitches and jerks with every pass of her spit-slick cock.

“Gonna make a mess?” Her hand grips your jaw tight, pulling your face from Leon's shoulder. It’s less a question and more a demand. You nod as best you can in her grip, remember too late to try and bumble out words. She taps your cheek twice, hard enough to sting, hard enough to make those pretty eyes water again.

Jill doesn’t wait for you to say it. She enters you in a quick, jerky thrust, no hint of warning, your breath stuttering and back tensing. She rabbits her dick into you, your moans falling as staccato as her pace. Her head bows to spit a fat glob of spit onto your clit. Her fingers rub you frantically, a pace so at odds with the slow push and grind of her hips that it makes you burn. You try to squirm back, the way your blood starts to singe a little too quick for your liking, but there's nowhere to go when you're pressed so tight against Leon's broad chest.

His hand slithers up and over the point of your hip, pressing down firmly just below your navel. Betrayal. You thought he was on your side. Your whining sharpens into a moan that has to have rattled the windows. Jill huffs a laugh, low and cruel. She pulls back just far enough to leave you wanting - and when you claw at her shoulders to drag her back home she's already moving, hard and slow, the light dancing in front of your eyes, her hips driving the breath out of your lungs, your chest caving in. It feels like you've imploded, blood on fire, singeing your bones and leaving the ash to remember it by.

She’s not done. You promised her a mess. Your voice is splintered, her hips still driving into you. You don’t feel yourself gushing around her until it’s already happening. You sniffle, your moans choppy and your tears falling quick, humiliation warming the embers in your stomach. Her pace slows and finally stills, finally lets you find yourself in the pile of ashes.

"Already?" Jill mocks, hands rubbing your quivering thighs soft and sweet despite the way she sneers.

You want to scoff, but you haven’t got the breath. Already, she says, like she hadn’t just ripped that orgasm out of you fast enough that you’ve got cartoon tweety-birds spinning around your head.

“My turn,” Leon pipes up.

“Fuck off. You’re not even hard. I'm just getting started.”

“Shoulda thought about that before you made her cum.”

God, they’re like lions fighting over a piece of meat. You push yourself up on shaky arms, give Jill your best gazelle-trying-not-to-get-eaten pout.

“M’tired,” you slur, your brains thoroughly fucked out. You form a T with your hands, calling for a time-out. “Need a break.”

Jill looks like she wants to bite anyway. But you were good, used your good girl hand signal and everything. She sighs, her shoulders slumping, and loosens the straps around her hips.

“C’mere, pumpkin.” Leon gathers you into his arms easily. “Gonna get you all cleaned up. Tuck your ass in.”

You ache when he moves you, in places you weren’t quite sure could ache. It’ll be worse later. Always is. They always have to fuck you at some weird angle. Can’t ever let your muscles get used to it, like you’re some kind of glorified exercise equipment. At least they wipe you down after they use you. Very polite of them.

Leon hands you your water bottle and settles in behind you, slotting up against your back. He’s got the both of you cleaned off even though he seems just as tired as you, bless him. Say a prayer to the patron saint of the bedroom.

Jill found dinner, apparently. You hear the microwave beeping distantly and share an amused look with Leon. Sure enough, she’s got a bowl of food in her hand when she settles at the end of the bed, legs crossed.

The silence lays somewhere in-between battlefields, landmines hidden all around your bedroom. Everything you want to ask is too loaded, too heavy. You’re not even sure you have the energy to stay up for a serious conversation, much less an argument. Jill looks so soft right now, the bags under her eyes seeming lighter in the warm lamplight of your bedroom. You don’t want to see her eyes sharpen. You don’t want to hear her teeth click together when she bites back her words. You search for some other topic, something that will make the tension evident in her shoulders melt away.

"We should do one of those clone-a-willy kits," you murmur, eyes shut, head tipped into the pillow. You open your eyes just enough to gauge her reaction. Warmth blooms in your chest when you see her eyes crinkle and her smile lines deepen.

"Why?" Jill laughs.

"You don't wanna fuck me with Leon’s dick?"

It’s the first time you’ve heard Jill laugh like that in a while. Pride spreads in your tired little grin. Leon's cock gives a tired twitch against your thigh. He groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder blade.

“You two are gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

#leon kennedy x reader #jill valentine x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil imagine #leon kennedy smut #jill valentine smut #resident evil x reader #x reader #resident evil #jill valentine #leon kennedy

681 notes · View notes

justblades · 2 years ago

Text

⌕ SEIZED, 18+

⟢ CHARACTER : luocha x afab! reader WC : 1.8k

⟢ WARNINGS : (EX)PLICIT, MDNI. lactation, breeding, netorare, d!ck deprived & d!ck drunk! reader

⟢ SUMMARY : an appointed family doctor visits a widowed mother to check up on her health, but it appears fate had other plans instead.

the incessant pelting rain continuously clatter against your home's rooftop, pitter pattering sounds ironically accompany the loneliness murking your heart. it has been a long week of just trying to get by with no hints where to continue next. without your husband, it's as if your pillar of support crumbled into smithereens, nothing but dusts of what were once a life being.

naturally, your peers and family come into the scene to help soothe your grieving soul, but as much as you hate to admit it, no words of theirs relieved the lingering sadness. feigning healing has been a routine so you don't worry your relatives too much— but then a surprising knock on the door veer your train of thoughts off course.

you check from the cameras to see who's the visitor and as you saw those familiar blond strands tied in a neat low ponytail and the foreign designed clothing, you swing the door open and give a greeting. "good evening, doctor. come in." he bows lightly, "pardon the intrusion."

with enough small talk while you lead the doctor to the vast living room of your own home, you bid your farewell for a moment to fetch some drinks, a kind gesture of welcoming your guest. "might i ask how's your girl? is she well?" the doctor queries kindly, viridescent hues flutter in curiosity. "yes, she's asleep actually. it's a little . . saddening to realize my husband never got to see our girl past 6 months." you reply, setting the tray on the long glossed table.

"my sincerest condolences. if ever you would like to seek help from a professional, i can name a few and refer you to them." his honeyed words felt rather wholesome. for some reason, being with someone you're not that particularly well acquainted with is refreshing. you've met with luocha several times from your husband's health check ups whenever you accompany him, so it's safe to assume luocha took up the role to be your family's doctor; after all, your husband is the type to entrust a reliable individual to support his wife.

luocha takes out his equipments so he can administer his check up regarding your physical health, bringing out his stethoscope and the familiar golden necklace laced around his gloved fingers. he proceeds with the usual basics, a question sparking one after another as a way to not bore his patient. "how are you faring nowadays?"

"honestly speaking, things are really bad." he nods, gesturing for you to continue. "i can't help but yearn for crumbs of intimacy sometimes." you chuckle at the end, coverig a light hand on your mouth. "from your husband exactly? or—" your gaze shifts to luocha's face, addled at the far fetched inquiry of his.

"—my apologies. that was below the belt." the blond male cuts himself off and an apologetic smile sits on his lips. however you dismiss it, "no no, don't worry about it. if anything, it feels nice to be accompanied once in a while. i can't open up my feelings to others given that i might cause them trouble," you pause, heaving a blue sigh and continue, "i doubt this will weigh you down, doctor. especially when you're in the medical field."

the vicinity then falls silent for a short while and your eyes gaze elsewhere, reminiscing the olden moments you were being showered with affection from a loved one. a gut feeling suddenly persuades you to look back at luocha; when you do so, the smile sculpted on his lips persists. his usual expressions were never eerie, but this time, for some reason . . it feels different from the usual. "it's a shame you're widowed at such a young age miss."

your eyes widen, heart beat racing against the hundreds of thoughts flaring up in your mind. "i don't know what you're hinting at, doctor." he closes in the remaining distances between the both of your bodies. you remain there sat on the wooden chair while the blond stands up and lowers himself just enough for your piercing, heating gazes to meet. "there is no need to bluff. it's okay." his voice deepens, jade hues reflecting a crystalline clear view of your curious expression.

as if the strings of your life become woven in a fruitful future once again, your sultry lips press against luocha's. getting a feel of his soft margins sends shockwaves of pleasure and longing in your system; you couldn't restrain yourself, restraint is not your forte. the kiss eventually transitions into a deeper one, tongues coming into the scene, tangling with each other's in sync.

luocha's eyes are shut, his breathing becomes sharp and ragged. it was clear cut that he's savoring your liquids, gloved hands now exploring your body. "miss, it was . . . supposed to be a lighthearted joke." he says in between the sloppy kisses, struggling to keep up with your fast rhythm. "drop the formalities, luocha." you retort, your stomach fluttering for more action.

it was his first time being referred to by his nickname from a favorite patient— fueling his carnal desire even more that it's impossible to extinguish its fervor flames at this point. luocha's hands quickly cup your clothed chest - his long fingers lightly dig on the plush of your tits, your breath hitches and the kiss finally ends, connecting your lips to luocha's with a naughty singular trail.

he skillfully rips the fabric apart, conferring him a full open view of your voluptuous tits— given that you're still breastfeeding. luocha's bulge underneath twitches, he bites his lips in impatience, a foreign feeling he has a hard time encountering. you let out a chuckle and take the initiative by pushing him back to his seat and straddle his lap, facing the doctor.

naturally, he's surprised, but you did not waste any more time by combing his lush flaxen hair with your hand and drag him to your boobs, perfectly aligning his mouth to your soft buds. a soft moan slips out once you got a feel of his tongue suckling on your nipple, "mhm, i never would've guessed you'd be into this as well."

the doctor doesn't reply but proceeds to toy with the other one, squeezing your flesh in an attempt to milk you dry - evident from how hard he's lapping your boobs up. your folds start to seep out of arousal from the lewd movements and you get a feel of luocha's erect crotch; you buck your hips to accumulate friction from the heating body part all the while urging luocha to drink more of your juices. in contrary to his gentlemanly, chivalrous nature, he's surprisingly greedy and rough as to how he nibbles on your hardened bud.

"h-how do i taste?" you skittishly ask and luocha pauses. "compelling." a mere singular word throws your mind in a daze, body tingling everytime luocha's feathery touches brush on your skin. "a flavor that's addictive, making me want to procreate with you so your supply wouldn't run out."

heat and blood rush all the way up to your cheeks, sexual passion brews in the depths of your lower abdomen. "i'll stand up as the father— we can be together . . ." he whispers to your ear, his hot breathe caressing your bare skin. your next move was more predictable: luocha watches with his predatory-like eyes while you strip yourself in front of him, legs farthest apart, muddy white beads trickling away from your lower lips.

your fingers spread your folds open, an immensely erotic view that will inevitably be etched in the male's mind for the longest time. "this is all yours." the corners of luocha's lips tug upwards as he removes his onyx glove with his teeth, proceeding to set it on the tabletop beside your vulnerable state. he resumes and brings his cock into full view for your eyes as well, stroking his girth until it stands tall and glorious. "you're surprisingly . . packing."

you were taken aback as he lifts your body up along with your left leg, draping it on his forearm while he teases his tip adjacent to your entrance. it happened too fast as if it occured in 20 machs speed, now rocking your hips, begging for him. "did you ever imagine this whenever you accompany your husband with his check ups?"

now that he mentioned it, you were left wondering. since when did you ever fantasize about your husband's doctor, much so that your façade as a goody two shoes wife immediately breaks down with the littlest, puny attempts?

just as when you were about to respond, he thrusts into your wet cunt, his girth filling all the remaining space inside your velvet walls. luocha's guttural moan erupts from his throat, gratification pooling inside him the more you clenched around his throbbing dick. you were tight, very tight that the doctor feels himself cum on the spot.

if it weren't for him pulling out from your slit, he'll have to instantly bury his seed of climax deep. "ah— luocha . . !" you yelp once he pistons in again, this time, his cock's tip kisses the surface of your cervix. ". . honestly. . y . . yes." you admit, embarrassment gnawing at your bones, words cut off everytime luocha pounces into your lewd hole.

his breathing becomes even more jagged, beads of sweat rivulet from his forehead, "i'm very close . ." your knees were about to give in as well, all the left strength in your body vanishing. "m-me too!" with another shared sloppy kiss in between the intercourse unraveling from both of your heated, lust brewed bodies, luocha pounds into your pussy swiftly, emitting squelching sounds both from his cock and the constant sucking and licking of your lips.

"hah . . please . . make sure you'll knock me up!" desperation heavily hints your words, enough to cater to luocha's preferences that were obvious the more time you got to spend with him. you figured it all out, how he likes your lactating tits, how he goes berserk just to procreate with you. although it all seemed a little too quick— perhaps this is how the higher entities planned it.

with one last balls deep thrust, all of his cum pool inside you, filling you to the brim. your melting moans of pleasure mesh along with luocha's, both satisfied from everything that transpired. luocha supports your trembling body with his figure and grabs ahold of your hand, bringing it closer to his saliva glossed lips. he places a chaste kiss on the back, leaving yet another ephemeral chill, running along your spine up and down.

"i'll take good care of you . . . your girl . . . and our soon to be baby. our newly built family."

my masterlist !

#luocha #luocha smut #luocha x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr x reader #hsr x reader smut #honkai star rail x reader smut #honkai star rail luocha

1K notes · View notes

hunnie--bunnie · 2 years ago

Text

𝗺𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗿 ❥ 𝗹𝗲𝗼𝗻

𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀 ❥ brat!f!reader, friends with benefits, cock-warming, teasing, light begging, belly bulge, size kink, daddy/sweetheart, mirror sex

𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗮𝗿’𝘀 𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗯𝗹𝗲𝘀 ❥ I have to ease a bit of the brain rot I have for this man, that scene with him swinging his leg to yank on the chain has ignited a type of thirst that I only feel like writing about this man right now, don't look at me, leave me to rot and burn

Digging his fingers into the soft crease of your hips. Leon croons, "What's wrong? You're squirming around like you can't get comfortable." You can merely grind your hips, unable to slip even a full inch of Leon's cock out.

The gentle rubbing of his hard cock inside your soft squishy pussy isn't enough. Whining, "I want your cock, please Daddy." Slipping a hand between your parted legs. Ghosting the rough pad of his finger over your puffy clit.

The rasp to his voice as he taunts you with, "You already have my cock stretching your tight, little, drooling pussy. I'm so deep in your guts. What more could my sweetheart need?" while he presses down just beneath your belly button with his free hand. As he applies more pressure to your clit.

Leon ever so attentive noted everything that made you whine, whimper, writhe, and tremble. After a few nights spent with him after a stressful mission and a few drinks. It's always easier to sleep after exhausting yourself in a tipsy, post-nut haze.

That and Leon had formed the habit of checking you over. It doesn't matter if you insist you're fine. His large, calloused hands peel your clothes off and caress your body. Avoiding any sore spots while he maps out any bruising and cuts.

Tonight there were a couple scraps and small bruises. But it's nothing that some whiskey and Leon couldn't soothe. One shower later, Leon has his cock nestled inside you.

Wiggling, biting into your bottom lip, and whining. The mounting frustration and desperation make it hard for you to keep behaving. Snapping at Leon,

"You little shit, for fuck’s sake you know what I want! This isn't enough, fuck me, bounce me on your cock, and fill me full of your cum." Leon slides his hands down to your thighs. Gripping them tightly, folding your legs at your sides while he stands up.

Holding in a suspended mating press, he walks into the nearby bathroom. Your heart pounds in his silence.

Moaning at the sight of Leon in the mirror. He's so achingly beautiful, lean, muscular, and tall, with sandy blonde hair falling into warm, brown eyes. Devouring the sight of your puffy lips wrapped around the base of him. While his low hanging, balls wet with your slit, a glint in the bathroom's light.

Leon's arms flex from holding you, the prominent veins making your pussy flutter. While you look so small folded up against Leon's broad, built chest. With his fat cock making a bulge in your stomach. As your pussy visibly clenches his cock.

Leon had become ruthless after catching you staring at his arms. It was what got you bent over his lap with his heavy hand coming down on your cheeks. Since you had allowed yourself to get distracted by ogling him.

Whimpering, "Please Daddy, use my pussy to help yourself cum." A wide cocky smirk spreads across Leon's kissable lips while he muses,

"Oh I'm a daddy now I thought I was a little shit?"

❥ m.list

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon x y/n #leon x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil #resident evil x you #resident evil leon #resident #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4

2K notes · View notes

padfootagain · 8 months ago

Text

Only an Almost (VIII)

Chapter 8: Hopes and Disappointments

Hello!! Here is another chapter! I apologize for this (that's not true, I love breaking my own heart). Also special warning for this chapter, there is a sex scene (first few paragraphs). Not written as smut, but still pretty explicit so, no minors!

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2550

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It was in the way you held onto him. The way the two of you moved in perfect sync. The way you peppered his neck with kisses, the way you knew he adored. The way you tightened your hold on his hand, the one he held by the side of your head, against the sheets, as pleasure grew almost unbearable. It was in the way you whispered his name, warm breath burning against his ear and cheek while he pressed his lips to your skin. It sounded like a prayer, like a wish, like a loving chant. A whisper loud enough to cover the banging of his own heart against his eardrums, his staggering and heavy breathing, the creaking of the bed under your united bodies.

No one had ever said his name like that. It sounded different when you said it. Tasted different when he kissed your lips as they formed his vowels and consonants again. And he murmured your name as well, right there against your mouth, in a sigh, like it was the most sacred word he could ever speak, the most beautiful sound in the world, and it was… it was…

I love you…

He almost said it, but pleasure was overwhelming, and he moaned instead; the two sounds meant the same thing.

It was in the way you were so close to him, the way he felt like he could touch your soul like this. The way you worshipped each other’s bodies instead of simply touching. The way you stared right into his eyes, on the verge of the highest form of pleasure, and gently touched his cheek, like… like there was adoration in your eyes, the same he felt for you. And he watched as you became undone, as you broke into fragments of pleasure, his name on your lips shouted instead of whispered this time. He pressed his forehead to yours as he finally let himself follow you in ecstasy, and it felt like you cushioned his fall, how you held him even closer, clinging to him as he stuttered around the sound of your name…

It was in the way sex was simply better with you. Perhaps it was because he loved you. Feelings made the intimacy of sex so much more intense. But the way you rubbed his back now, soothing and gentle and loving…

Because of all these reasons and a thousand more, Andrew couldn’t convince himself that you didn’t care, that this was just about fucking, about getting a moment of pleasure with no sentimental strings attached to it. He finally opened his eyes again when you cradled his cheek, thumb gentle as it brushed through his beard.

If it were just about pleasure, why would you keep him close now? Why would you reach up to kiss his cheekbone, and then his eyelids, the gesture infinitely tender?

He kept on holding onto your hand, even if not as tightly. He knew you craved for that contact, for that anchor. His other hand slipped under your back to hold you closer, to hold you lovingly against him, and the gesture made you smile against his eyelashes.

I love you…

“God… that was so good, Andy,” you whispered with some awe on your face and in your content smile, like you couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. But to be fair, neither could he.

“Divine, I would say,” he corrected, making you giggle as you kissed his lips again.

“Can’t disagree with that,” you nodded, brushing your nose against his in the process, making him grin.

You touched and kissed and caressed for a while longer, before you would both take some time to clean up and get ready for a proper cuddle. The first few weeks, you didn’t linger for so long with him in bed after sex, but now you seemed to indulge in the comfort that came with being held like this, wearing little to no clothes, holding onto each other and saying sweet nothings into the other’s ear, and kissing… and sometimes going further than just kissing again…

Not tonight though. When Andrew walked out of the bathroom and back in the bedroom, your eyes were closed. You had stolen one of his old t-shirts, buried under his blanket, your expression peaceful as your breathing was audibly deeper than usual.

Andrew slipped quietly back in bed, trying not to wake you. Still, you blinked your eyes open as he was lying down.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, trying to sit up, but Andrew held you back.

“Hey, don’t be silly. You’re exhausted, get some sleep.”

“We said that we wouldn’t sleep together. I mean… actually sleep… you know what I mean.”

“Y/N, you’re knackered. Lay down and get some sleep. I don’t bite… unless that’s your thing?”

“I hate you.”

“I’ll take that for a no. Dully noted,” he joked, pushing his hair out of the way as he rested his head on his own pillow.

“I should go home.”

“You can’t drive, you’re too tired. And I’m too tired to drive you home, so just… stay. It’s alright. Nothing is going to happen if you stay the night. Most people do, even if it’s just a one-night stand.”

You remained quiet, and he knew your brain was working at full speed. He hated himself for his next question, but if it meant that you would stay, just this once…

“You want me to sleep on top of the covers?”

You rolled your eyes, but visibly relaxed.

“We’ve just had sex, I don’t fear for my modesty.”

“Then, stay. I’ll make you pancakes in the morning.”

“Tempting.”

“I know, I’m a grand cook.”

“Decent cook.”

“I’ll take it.”

His hold on your arm loosened, he tenderly caressed the soft skin right above your elbow, on the inside of your arm. You didn’t move away.

“I am very tired,” you whispered, as if trying to argue with yourself.

Andrew sat up as well, leaning in to kiss your shoulder through his own shirt.

“Stay, Y/N. Stay for the night. Please, stay… stay…”

I love you.

He almost said it.

“Okay,” you nodded, reaching out for him and pulling him down with you as you lied down once more.

He tucked you in, not daring to hold you, worried to make you uncomfortable and for you to run away again. Instead, you both laid on your sides, staring at each other in the silvery light that came in from the window. He caught your eyes falling to look at his chest, the skin made even paler under the moonlight, and he didn’t mind. Your gaze was gentle, safe. For once, he didn’t hide, let the covers rest on his hips instead of covering him fully. Meanwhile, he was admiring the silver droplets that were being caught on your eyelashes…

It was silent, still, a moment suspended in comfort and hesitation.

But then your expression grew a little more fragile, more hesitant, as you looked into his eyes again. Slowly, you moved closer, as a test, perhaps. Andrew didn’t hesitate a second, and he wrapped his long arms around you, holding you close to his chest. He felt your muscles relax under his touch, and you placed a peck against his heart as a reward.

“Please, keep holding me,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “Don’t let me go.”

“I won’t. I won’t,” he repeated as a promise.

You both fell asleep like this, holding each other close, your lips to his heart and his to your hair.

When he woke up the next morning, you were gone.

“The wedding is in less than four months…”

“Daphne, please, breathe. Sam has enough anxiety for all of us, I can’t have you as worried as him.”

You plopped down on your seat next to Andrew, a brand-new cup of tea in your hands. Opposite you, Daphne and Sam were freaking out about their wedding.

“Guys, it’s in four months, we have plenty of time… There is no reason to panic.”

“We still haven’t decided what flavour we should have for the cake…”

“Stop, just stop, both of you.”

You grabbed the notebook that was set on the table and a pen, scribbling something.

“You are perfectly on time for everything. Do not worry. Oh, and I’ve booked your appointments for the wedding dress and the suit, as planned. Everything is fine.”

“Oh my God, I can’t wait!” Daphne squealed, suddenly more excited than nervous. “I’m going to buy a wedding dress…”

“What about the bachelor’s party, Andy?”

Daphne threw her fiancé a disapproving look.

“What? It’s a perfectly sound question!” Sam defended himself. “It’s tradition!”

“You’d better not do something too crazy.”

“What about you? You might do some crazy things for your last night as an unmarried woman!”

“I’ll get properly wasted with my friends and eat too much chips.”

“Sounds wonderful, honey,” Sam grinned at his excited fiancée.

“Also, I want a striptease.”

“Absolutely not,” you shook your head as Sam was choking on his tea and Andrew was exploding with laughter.

“I agree with Y/N!” Sam interjected after he could breathe again. “You aren’t getting a striptease!”

“Why not?”

“Because… that’s… objectifying bodies!”

Daphne grinned, humour and mischief shining in her eyes.

“You’re jealous!” she teased, making her fiancé scoff.

“I’m not!”

“Are too!”

“Have you seen me? Why would I worry about my fiancée seeing a six-pack-guy dancing some sexy dance when I can give you love-handles and walk on your feet?”

“I have no clue. The choice is easy to make,” Daphne answered with a grin that grew more tender right before she kissed him. “I was teasing you, you idiot. I’ll settle for getting very drunk.”

“My plan, exactly!”

“Okay, so… before you two start snogging and being disgustingly sweet…” you interrupted them, guiding the conversation back on track. “Andy takes care of the cake appointments. I call for the lodgings and the venue. You guys find out when your relatives arrive precisely, and you choose the caterer.”

“And I’ll call for the rings too, to book an appointment,” Andrew added, sipping on his tea.

You scribbled a few more words on your paper. Sam heaved a relieved sigh, letting himself fall back into his chair.

“Alright, if this is done… then Andy and I will go get food for lunch, while you ladies set up the table.”

“I’ve got to go…” you tried to protest, but your friends had other plans.

“No, you don’t. It’s Saturday, you are not working, and you’re staying for lunch. I’ve already called this Chinese place you like,” Daphne argued, and you had to yield, eventually.

Before Andrew stepped out of the house, he threw you one last glance; and you were looking at him too so he caught your gaze with his. You exchanged a fond smile, a silent sign of tenderness, before he would follow Sam as he walked out of the house towards his car while babbling away about this monster he had managed to beat in Zelda.

They had barely climbed in the car, Sam quickly turning on the engines, when he blurted out his question.

“So… now that we’re alone… tell me what’s going on with Y/N!”

Andrew couldn’t help but laugh.

“Is that the only reason why you asked me to come with you?”

“Obviously, did you really think I’d want to see your ugly face if it weren’t for the drama?”

“Keeping the artist around for the entertainment… makes sense!”

“Precisely! Now, spit it out!”

Andrew heaved a sigh, looked out the window to the moving houses and the blur of trees over a grey sky.

“Not much to say about it, I’m… lost.”

“So… you’re still doing this?”

“For now, yeah…”

“So, you didn’t follow my advice.”

“No, I haven’t yet.”

“And so, you’re going to get your heart broken…”

Andrew remained silent for a moment, his throat tightening to the point that he needed a moment to find his voice back. When the words tumbled out, his voice was deep and low, shaking.

“I reckon that’s already too late for that.”

He passed a hand across his face, rubbing at his eyes.

“I don’t need you to tell me that I shouldn’t have agreed in the first place, because I already know that. It’s just, I… I couldn’t help it. And I can’t let her go now. It’s just… it hurts too much…”

Sam remained silent for the rest of the ten-minutes drive. He didn’t unlock the doors after he parked the car though. Andrew stared at a couple walking hand-in-hand across the street, watched the grey sky and wondered if it would rain before he and Sam got back…

“Do you think she feels the same as you do?” Sam finally asked.

Andrew merely shrugged.

“I’m not sure. On one hand she doesn’t let me kiss her outside of a bedroom; on the other hand, the way she acts with me, I… I don’t know. I don’t know if she’s pushing me away because she’s scared, or because she doesn’t feel anything but physical attraction for me.”

“I see…”

“She’s just… just the way she is with me… she acts like she cares, like I’m not just some random guy she’s sleeping with. But then she has these rules that are making sure that we’re not having something… too intimate. You know what I mean? Like… pet names and stuff…”

“I see…”

The two men remained silent for a moment, before Sam asked quietly another question.

“Are you… are you two exclusive?”

“We’re not together,” Andrew shook his head.

“But have you slept with other women since this has begun?”

“No, of course not.”

“Are you planning on doing that?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Has she? Slept with other people?”

“God, I hope not… don’t make me think about that…”

“Sorry, sorry…”

Another silence, before Sam started to smile.

“Alright, I’ve got a plan!”

“Here comes trouble…”

“You need to finally know if she has feelings or if she’s… dragging you along.”

“What a revolutionary idea, I hadn’t thought of that one!”

Sam merely ignored Andrew’s sarcasm.

“My plan is simple: make her jealous.”

“What?”

“Make her jealous! You feign to be interested in another woman, and you’ll see how Y/N reacts! If she’s jealous, it means that she cares for you… beyond just having you around for sex. If she doesn’t give two shits about you banging someone else, then…”

Andrew took a moment to ponder this idea, and he slowly nodded.

“That’s… actually a rather good idea…”

“There’s a party next week with the whole gang, at the usual pub. Perfect moment to try it!”

“I…”

“All you have to do is flirt with a woman. Even you can manage that, Andy! Trust me, it’ll work.”

Slowly, Andrew nodded.

“Yeah… yeah, perhaps it could work.”

“And if she’s not jealous at all, if she really doesn’t feel the same… you have to bail out, now, mate. Cause she’s going to have you in pieces if you don’t take care of yourself first.”

Andrew nodded, and when Sam climbed out of the car, he followed him in silence, thinking about next week and contemplating how, for the first time in his life, he hoped he could bring you pain.

#andrew hozier byrne #hozier #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier fanfiction #hozier series #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #series

190 notes · View notes

melodic-haze · 7 months ago

Note

MORE SAD SUB ARLECCHINO. PLEASE. I NEED TO EAT. like shes in absolute TEARS SHES SO ME I LOVE HER PLEASE FEED ME MORE.

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: A lil petplay (it's like one paragraph)

☆ — NOTES: I lied about not writing for this week lol I needed a distraction. Anyway combined these two bc they worked very sillily together hope yall don't mind 🫶 also YES I DO REMEMBER YOU 🎀 anon w my first ask about Arle :333

Oh man oh man oh MANNN I wanna do soooo many things to her auhfhthgh

Much as I ADORE absolutely ruining this absolute UNIT of a woman, I also want to take care of her and dote on her so much to the point where she fucking cries from being treated so well UGHHHHH

I feel like there are times at night when she remembers what she had lost in order to get to where she is right now (the chance to have a life that went in a more conventional direction, along w ESPECIALLY Clervie) and while she has learned to deal with the feeling itself in solitary, whenever you see her look out the window she is no longer The Knave—this was Peruere, a lonely girl yearning for something from so long ago

Even when she seems like such a self-assured person, all that composure threatens to fall into pieces the moment you, the one she now holds so achingly dearly in her heart, go to hug her and tell her that she's no longer alone :( no matter how many times you tell her or no matter how many times this scene repeats, it will never stop affecting her so deeply :(((((

I do think that she actually does love to sit on your lap. Sure, maybe it's kinda unnecessary and even more than a little embarrassing, but it makes her feel cared for instead of the way around that she's used to 🫶

"Who would've known that the real reason why you like being on my lap was for this, though..?"

You curled your fingers up in order to emphasise your point, hitting that specific spot within her that forces out a strangled gasp as her thighs make a feeble attempt to close themselves off.. despite the fact that you were comfortably sat right in-between.

Arlecchino makes no effort to answer you properly right away with one of her ever-so-composed words of wisdom or whatever they may be—she opts to tuck her head into the crook of your neck as fat tears roll down her cheeks, your skin almost as wet as her drooling cunt that you just can't get enough of.

(Her makeup is smudged too, though by this point it doesn't really seem like she cares.)

Though with the way your other hand was wrapped around her, softly stroking her back as if soothing your crying mess, and the way her own arms were clinging onto you, you both knew there was so much more to this position beyond your carnal actions.

Something much more emotionally charged, something much more than she usually let herself handle.

And perhaps it might also be because you had been at this for a while; your little lapdog was desperate for a release every time.. only for you to take the chance away from her, as if faking your pet out of her sweet treat. You couldn't help but play with her a little, not when her reactions are often the sweetest—uncharacteristic whines making its way out of her lips as she pleads you to fuck her silly, to--

"--make me forget for a brief moment, please-- ah..!"

And as her loving partner, of course you'd want to comfort her in whatever way you can.

"I'll make you forget your very title, Peruere."

"Please--"

Especially if it means fucking her until all that longing is long gone.

Need her to go from crying about who she had to kill to crying about who she ended up gaining in the end (and crying about how you make her feel too :3)

Just softly tell her that you love her, sing her praises, take care of her, kiss the tears rolling down her face, give her everything that she hadn't been meant to have or hadn't even realised she could ever have as the 'monster' her past has created

I just really really wanna spoil her and make her cry by overwhelming her with so much affection she doesn't know what to do with as someone who doesn't often let such things dictate her actions dude idk 🤷‍♀️

271 notes · View notes

hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 2 years ago

Text

What're friends for?

AN: As a fellow weeb, bringing up Soobin and hentai was only a matter of time. This is just crack tbh. Also, this is just me once again pushing the Boobs enthusiast! Soobin and Sub! Soobin agendas. (Also also, I was tipsy while editing this so, hopefully it's some level of coherent 💀)

Synopsis: A night that was supposed to be spent watching anime with your best friend takes a sharp turn when he accidentally forgets to close his hentai tab.

Heads up: Choi Soobin x Fem! Reader, mostly pwp, friends to friends who fuck, crack, mentions of hentai, Dom! Reader, Sub! Soobin, dirty talk, Reader thinks Soobin is cute and calls him cute a lot, handjob, oral sex (m. receiving), Reader has boobs big enough to give Soobin a titjob, titjob and Soobin cums on Reader's face and tiddies.

Word count: 2353

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

"Hurry up!" you yell, making yourself comfortable on Soobin's bed as you wait for him to return from the kitchen with drinks.

"I'm coming, I'm coming. It's not like My Hero is going to go anywhere," he retorts when he finally returns with two glasses and a bottle of soda, shutting the door behind him.

"Yeah but, we barely get to spend time together in person and I don't want to waste it," you respond, moving over a little so he can comfortably settle beside you.

"True but, you don't need to yell," he says, rolling his eyes at you and grabbing his remote to switch on his TV.

Any response you have dies on your tongue when loud moans assault your ears. You're startled when you turn to see hentai playing on Soobin's screen. A pretty graphic scene of the male protagonist getting a titfuck from a woman with a...generous bust plays out on the screen, obscene sounds emitting from both of them.

Soobin fumbles with the remote, rushing to turn the TV off as quickly as he can. Silence rings out throughout his bedroom.

"Don't," is all he manages to choke out, his face speedrunning its way into scarlet territory.

"Hey, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. A lot of people watch porn," you say sincerely.

Soobin makes a noise that's a combination of embarrassment, frustration and distress. He refuses to look in your direction, choosing instead to stare holes into his bedroom door. Looking for all the world that he hopes the earth underneath him would open and swallow him whole.

"Seems like I was right about you being a boob guy atleast," you say jokingly, trying to ease the tension in the air.

He turns to face you so fast you're half surprised he doesn't snap his neck. "Who- how- why are you talking about what I prefer?" He asks, and his voice cracks halfway through.

"Soobin, relax, none of this is that big of a deal," you shrug, "You're not exactly... subtle when you take peaks at my boobs. Also, I just think you have boob guy energy. Can't really explain it beyond that."

You've never seen Soobin look like he's wished for death more than right now.

"I'm sorry for staring at your- um- it's inappropriate and really disrespectful-"

"Don't worry about it. I'm not offended. I'm pretty flattered, actually," you respond with a wave of your hand.

He looks stunned then, "Wha-what? You're not offended? Wait, you're flattered? Why?"

"Who doesn't feel flattered when someone thinks they're attractive?" You ask with a laugh, "Really, this doesn't have to be a big deal, Soobin."

"You're not the one whose porn habit was just exposed," he fires back but, it's difficult to take him seriously with that cute flush still colouring his cheeks.

"I don't mind sharing if you're really that curious,"

"You're really annoying, you know that?"

"Yet you think I'm attractive so, what does that say about you?"

Soobin looks like he's 5 seconds away from yelling.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," you soothe with minimal laughter this time around. Giving his arm a comforting squeeze. He says nothing after that, and the two of settle into a tense silence. However, you've always been too curious and talkative for your own good.

"Have you ever tried it?"

"Tried what?" He asks with his face scrunched up cutely in confusion.

"What they were doing in the hentai. Have you ever gotten a titjob?" You ask, genuinely curious.

The strangled noise he let's out starts to make you consider that maybe you are taking this a little too far.

"No," he mumbles out, dragging his hand across his face and pointedly looking at anything in his room that isn't you.

"Would you like to?"

"What?" Soobin's wide, startled eyes meeting yours. As though he's not entirely sure he heard you correctly.

"Would you like one? I wouldn't mind," you say sincerely. You've always thought your best friend was attractive and, clearly, he thinks you're attractive too. The circumstances couldn't be more perfect if you tried.

Soobin just stares at you for a long minute. His lips parted, and eyes wide.

"Are you... serious?"

"Yeah. I know I tease and joke a lot but, I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't serious,"

"You don't have to do this out of some misplaced sense of pity or whatever. I'll survive being embarrassed,"

"I'm not. I really want to. You can obviously say no. I'd never hold it against you, but I'm not offering out of pity. Not in the slightest,"

Soobin seems to still not believe this is all real, but he doesn't look quite as skeptical, and he's looking at you now, so that's a start.

"Okay," he says so softly that you almost miss it. Anticipation courses through you when his words do finally register. You shuffle closer to him then. Feeling a bit of pride when his blush darkens and his hands nervously toy with his sheets.

"Is it okay if I kiss you?"

"Yes," the already breathy quality of his voice makes your insides squirm. It's cute how he jumps slightly when your hand rests dangerously high on his thigh. You don't give him much time to think about it, though, because soon your lips are against his.

The moan he let's out goes straight to pussy. A dull ache already settling in as you try your best not to push him down and straddle his lap. You can't help the uptick of your lips when you feel him shudder as your tongue teases his mouth. He's just so fucking cute.

"You can touch me, you know," you tell him when you trail kisses along his jaw. Your hand moving further up his thigh as you shift closer to him.

"I did-didn't want to ma-make you uncomfortable," he stutters out, hands hovering nervously over you. "Soobin, you're going to be fucking my tits. It's completely fine to touch me," and to prove your point, you grab one of his gigantic hands and press it to one of your breasts.

Choosing not to wear a bra today definitely worked out for you. He seems to take initiative from there. Tentatively squeezing and letting a breathless 'fuck' as he takes in how soft you are.

Before you can utter more teasing remarks, his other hands weaves its way into your hair, and he meets your lips in a frenzied kiss. You moan against his pillowy lips when his thumb brushes over your nipple through your shirt. That just seems to egg him on more. Groaning into you when he gives you a particularly harsh squeeze.

For your part, your hands toy with the waistband of his sweats. Smiling when you feel his abdomen tense and jump with ever brush of your fingertips.

"Y/n," he whines, hips jerking towards you. "Yes?" You pull back and ask coyly, the ache between your thighs worsening as you take in how dishevelled he already looks.

"You're playing with me," he says with a pout and god, you want to ruin him. However, you push down the thought. You don't want to scare him off so soon.

"Playing with you? How?" You ask, titling your head in faux confusion.

"You're teas-teasing me. I want you t-to touch me," he rushes out so quickly you nearly miss his words. When you register what he says, your walls clench hard. You're a little surprised he said it so directly. Maybe he's becoming desperate. Cute.

"I am touching you, Soobin," you don't fail to notice the way he shudders when you say his name.

"You know what I mean,"

"I don't. You have to be specific,"

For a brief moment, you think he isn't going to respond. Maybe too embarrassed to tell you what he wants exactly.

"I want you to touch my cock," he whispers and, you pounce.

You don't give him a moment to comprehend what's happening. Kissing him fiercely as your hand snakes its way down his sweats and boxers. You both moan into each other at the contact. Fuck, he's much bigger than you fantasised about. Hot and incredibly hard in your palm.

"You're already so hard," you tease as you dot kisses along his jaw and, barely stroke him. The copious amounts of the pre-cum he's leaked out making for an easy glide nonetheless. Briefly, you wonder if he'd let you sit on it and ride him to your heart's content. Another time maybe.

"Yeah, for you," he moans, eyes fluttering shut and hips jolting against your hand to get as much friction as he can. It's not fair in the slightest how good he looks like this. His words certainly don't help either.

Impatiently, you tug his boxers and sweats down, and the sight of him flushed an appealing red makes you clench hard.

"Is it okay if I suck you off? Going in dry wouldn't be...pleasant," you ask, watching him for any signs of hesitance. However, you're met with the opposite. A throaty groan falling from his plush lips and his cock twitching against his stomach. This man really might just be the death of you.

"Yeah, it's okay," he mumbles, avoiding your gaze as the blush in his cheeks darken.

"You're so fucking cute," you breathe, kissing his neck and stroking him less leisurely this time around. His moans and the jerky, shallow thrusts of his hips into your hand make you grin against his skin and, your insides squirm.

"Shut up," he retorts but, it's severely undercut by how fucked out he already sounds. His hands gripping the sheets harshly.

"Oh?" You ask with faux innocence, stilling your hand around the base of his cock. Biting back a giggle when he whines and tries to fuck your hand for any sort of friction.

"Fu-fuck, fine. I'm so-sorry. I'm sorry, okay?" He grits out.

"Good boy," you say with a grin that's likely a tad too smug. Giving his jaw one more kiss, you ease yourself onto his floor. Honestly, you're impressed you're being so composed about all of this. Your breath stuttering in your lungs when you're eye level with his ridiculously appealing cock.

Soobin feels himself throb when your soft breaths hit him. It's made worse when he sees your tongue lick your lips and the look in your eyes. You look like you want to devour him.

The sharp gasp he let's out when you take your first lick of him goes straight to your clit. Ruined panties sticking to you uncomfortably as you familiarise yourself with the slightly salty taste that is all Soobin. His hips instinctively buck into you when you finally decide to stop toying with the poor man and, see how far you can take him.

"Fuc-fuck, sorry," he groans, eyes shut tightly as he tries his best to reign in his reactions. Such a cutie. You'd tell him so if your mouth wasn't filled with his dick. A mixture of your saliva and his pre-cum slipping past your lips and down your chin. Your hand stroking what you can't fit in your mouth and making sure he's thoroughly coated.

However, as much as you'd happily make him cum down your throat and keep sucking him off until he cries, tonight isn't about that.

His eyes are frantic and glassy when they meet yours. He looks so genuinely offended that you stop sucking him off that it almost makes you laugh. "Why?" Is all his foggy brain can seem to supply and you really want to kiss him.

Instead of answering him with words, you tug off your shirt and Soobin doesn't seem so upset anymore. Fiery eyes take in your breasts and committing them to memory. You don't fail to notice his cock twitching against his stomach, a fresh drop of pre-cum leaking out of him. God, he's just so easy.

"Still complaining?" You can't help but, tease. However, any response he would've given you dies on his tongue when you cup your breasts and envelope his slick cock in them.

The moan that flies from his lips is so wanton and broken that you can practically feel yourself soaking through your shorts. His eyes are shut as he tries his best not to fuck up into your ridiculously soft tits. Such a good boy.

You notice his large hands grip his sheets even more fiercely than before when you start to move. Allowing him to get accustomed to the glide of his cock between the valley of your breasts.

"Fe-Feels so good," he stutters out, weakly bucking into your touch. You've never felt more aroused in your entire life. He's so sensitive and responsive. You're sure you could have him cumming within minutes.

You bite back a grin when he gasps as you lick and suck at the head of his cock that pokes out. Looking up at him through fluttering lashes with his tip in your mouth and the rest of him nestled comfortably between your unfairly soft tits. His pre-cum and your saliva smearing your breasts.

You knew it wouldn't take much but, it still startles you when Soobin cums. He babbles out apologies as his hips jolt against you. His warm, thick cum landing on your tongue, face and breasts before you can even fully comprehend what just happened.

His cum isn't unpleasant. A little salty and you swallow it as he cock begins to soften between your breasts. You give him an apologetic look when he shudders as you slowly remove him from between your breasts. Looking around for anything to clean yourself up with.

"Fuck, again I'm so sorry," he apologises reaching into his bedside table for a few tissues, "here you go. I didn't mean to...make a mess."

Those words really shouldn't affect you as much as they do. At this point, you're sure even your shorts are ruined.

"It's okay. Honestly, it was really hot seeing you fall apart like that,"

The embarrassed, strained groan he gives you makes you smile harder than perhaps strictly necessary. He really is just so easy.

#choi soobin smut #soobin smut #txt smut

2K notes · View notes