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amhrosina · 10 months

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Be My Baby

Summary: Frank takes you on a weekend trip to his cabin after you have a rough week at work. Your first stop? The enormous bathtub with enough room for soooo many activities.

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.8k

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a/n: hello! i'm back! my personal life is still a wreck but i missed writing for frank. this is probably the most self indulgent fic i've ever written lol it is quite literally the most ooey-gooey romantic plot before the softest smut imaginable. what can i say? i'm a hoe for soft frank. enjoy & thank you to the nonnie that requested something similar to this!

warnings: softest smut imaginable, fluff to the max, 'i'm an asshole to everyone except you' trope, a teensy little bit of crybaby reader if you squint, frank would burn the world for reader, reader is sOoOoO in love with frank (who isn't??), they're both a little wrapped up in each other's world and don't give a shit about what's happening outside of them type of vibes, pet names, etc.

From what you had seen, Frank’s cabin was cozy and warm, but since your arrival half an hour ago, you’d only had the luxury of soaking in the tub while Frank took care of unloading the car. He’d insisted on doing it alone, claiming his girl shouldn’t have to lift a finger for anything, and honestly after the week you’d had, you were temporarily glad he was as stubborn as a mule. You were sure that sentiment would fade the next time you were feeling bratty, but for now, you tried your best to relax and forget what an awful week it had been at work.

The heat of the bath water sent a wave of goosebumps down your spine, enticing a low groan from your lips. Sinking further into the water, you realized just how big the tub was. It stretched at least six feet across and was almost deep enough to stand, clearly a custom made feature of the cabin. You supposed Frank probably needs the room, being as large a man as he is. Still, it felt like you were in a luxurious hot tub, rather than a regular bathtub.

“There’s a button to turn on the jets if you want ‘em.”

Frank’s gentle voice carried across the bathroom, startling you from your relaxed state. You hadn’t even heard him come in. You turned, eyeing his powerful figure as he made his way toward you and sat on the edge of the tub. It was easy to get lost in the way he moved, and you tried your best to not stare at the muscles straining against the black longsleeve he was wearing.

“You okay?” He asked, reaching out to softly run his knuckles along the curve of your damp cheek. He was always gentle with you, but the desire to take care of you was even more present in his eyes than usual. It really had been a shitty week.

“This place is amazing.” You said in awe, turning your face away to hide your grin. His hand, already knowing what you were trying to do, softly gripped your jaw and turned it back to face him.

“You barely saw the place.” He chuckled.

“Whose fault is that?” You raised an eyebrow at him and sat up, fully exposing your bare chest to him. His eyes briefly flicked down to your nipples, hardening as the cool air touched them, before returning his gaze upwards. “Get in. There’s plenty of room for both of us.”

He nodded and stood, but began walking in the opposite direction of the bath. You furrowed your brow, watching him tug his shirt off and throw it on the counter. When he saw your expression, he grinned.

“Hang on. I brought something for you.”

“What do you mean?” You called after him, but he was already moving again.

He disappeared through the doorway, generating even more confusion, before returning with an assembly of things tucked under his arms. You watched as he worked his way around the room, placing various objects here and there until finally he flicked off the lights and turned to face you again.

The room was now aglow with flickering candle light, coating Frank’s looming figure in a warm haze. He’d gone for mostly unscented, knowing how strong smells could give you headaches, but had left in a few lavender candles because he knew how much it relaxed you. He also managed to sneak an entire bottle of champagne into the car without you noticing, of which he was pouring into two flutes. You blinked back tears as he handed you your glass, unable to express how warm your chest felt at the effort he was putting in to make you feel better.

“Frank.” You murmured, smiling bashfully, “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“‘s what you deserve.” He shrugged, stepping out of the rest of his clothes.

He sank into the tub next to you, tugging your body against his in a swift motion. He sat with his back against the edge, allowing you to easily settle your knees on either side of his thighs, facing him in the dim room. You sat just a little taller than him at this angle - chest pressed against his warm skin, arms resting on his broad shoulders - and God, he looked divine. The drive had taken a few hours, just long enough for the stubble to return to his cheeks after this morning’s shave, giving him a rugged look that you thought was just so handsome. You were unable to resist the temptation of running your nails over it in a soft scratch, eliciting a groan from deep in Frank’s chest. The rumble reverberated through your chest as you pressed yourself fully against him, seeking more of his affection. He tugged your head down onto his shoulder and began running his fingers along the base of your neck in a soothing pattern.

“You never answered my question earlier.” He murmured, resting his jaw against your head. “You okay, sweet girl?”

You sighed, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment as you mulled over your feelings. You were a sensitive soul to begin with, and your boss had been on edge all morning when he finally snapped at you for something you had no control over, which ultimately had you tearing up for the rest of the day. When you’d walked through the door crying, Frank’s eyes flashed violently between anger at your boss and sympathy for you. The sympathy had won, and now you were in a beautiful cabin in upstate New York, wrapped in his strong arms. Still, you weren’t sure how you were going to deal with your boss’ temper when you returned to work on Monday.

“I don’t know,” you finally replied, shrugging, “Can you ask me again later?”

You felt his cheeks widen into a small grin. He nodded, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Don’t think I won’t.” He teased, calling you on your avoidant tendencies before you could even notice them yourself.

“How long have you had this place?” You wondered, nuzzling into his heated skin.

“I bought it a few months after Maria and the kids.” He said softly, almost whispering when he had to relay his wife’s name aloud. “Thought maybe I was done with the city. Change can be good, ya’ know?”

“But you came back.” You lifted your head from his shoulder so you could look him in the eyes.

“But I came back.” He parroted, nodding. “And then I met you.”

“And you stayed.” You finished for him.

“Of course I stayed. Couldn’t leave you behind, sweet girl. ‘ve been sweet on you since the day I met you.”

This was true. From the moment you’d met, he’d been nothing but gentle and kind toward you. You had no idea, of course, that this type of behavior was incredibly far away from Frank Castle’s usual attitude until you’d met Matt Murdock, who was so shocked at Frank’s subdued personality and general softness around you that Frank had to physically close Matt’s gaping jaw for him.

“But you never sold the place?” You questioned.

“I figured we might need somewhere to run away to every once in a while. Are you mad that I didn’t tell you about it before today? I wanted it to be a surprise.”

For a moment, he looked genuinely worried that he might’ve upset you.

“How could I be mad when I’m sitting in this enormous tub, surrounded by candles and champagne, pressed up against the man of my dreams?”

He smiled then, and you could tell it was a genuine smile because of the way his cheeks dimpled at the corner of his laugh lines. It was an award winning smile, you thought. You gently set the empty champagne glasses on the edge of the tub before cupping his cheeks in your hands.

“My Frankie,” you mumbled, running your thumbs across his cheekbones, “What would I do without you?”

You really hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but every time you looked at him, you felt yourself being pulled closer and closer to him. His compassion and kindness toward you, even after everything he’d been through, was something you couldn’t avoid leaning into. All your life you’d been taking care of others, and finally, here was someone begging to take care of you.

“You don’t have to worry about that, okay? ’m here to stay.” He mumbled, bringing the pads of your fingertips to his lips for individual, soft kisses. “I love you, and ‘m gonna take care of you forever.”

Tears welled in your eyes as an overwhelming rush of emotion passed over you. In your arms was a man that should’ve been bitter and angry at the world around him. He had earned the right to become spiteful and hardened, and no one could fault him for that. And yet - and yet - in your arms was a man that loved you with his entire being. Who understood you at your core, saw the dark parts of you, and loved those parts even more. Who was soft for no one but you. Who you loved, too.

A tear slid down your cheek as you kissed him, long and slow and sensual because you wanted nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and never let go. He smiled into the kiss, cradling your head with his beautiful, calloused hands. It wasn’t enough. You needed his gentle touch everywhere. Pressing yourself against him, you felt yourself sliding along his achingly hard cock, raising the already warm temperature in the room to searing. Heat pulsed between your legs, begging to be touched.

“My pretty girl,” he mumbled against your lips, kissing the corner of your mouth before following the curve of your jawline to your neck, “My pretty, sensitive girl.”

The praise made your head swim. You rocked your hips again, sliding along his length until you were hovering directly over him, waiting for the go ahead to sink down. He grunted, pressing open mouthed kisses up your throat before coaxing your hips lower and lower. You gasped when he finally pushed into you, and Frank took the opportunity to lick the inside of your gaping mouth as he did so. You shuttered against him, wanting everything he had to offer and more.

“P-please, Frankie.” You murmured, arching your back as he bucked his hips upwards.

“Please what, sweetheart?” He breathed, wrapping one of his enormous hands around the back of your head, forcing you to look down at him as you rode him. His other arm was wrapped around your torso, tugging your hips forward and back to stimulate your clit against the base of his cock. It was such an erotic way to be held that you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. He leaned his head against your forehead and kissed the tears that made their way down your flushed skin. “Tell me, sweet girl.”

“I l-love you.” You purred, stuttering as he made his way down your body, kissing everywhere he could reach. When he got to your pebbled nipples, you sucked in a sharp breath. He knew exactly how to get you off, and he was staring right at them.

“I love you too, pretty girl.” He grinned and pressed a chaste kiss to each of your nipples, eliciting a pornographic moan from deep in your chest.

He continued to push and pull your hips in a steady rhythm, grinding your clit against his pelvis as you bounced up and down his length. Slowly, in a teasing manner that had a new wave of fresh, needy tears streaming down your cheeks, he leaned forward and circled his tongue around the sensitive nub. You whined with impatience as he pulled away, only to offer the same kitten lick to your other breast. You knew he would take care of you like he always did, but his teasing was making your entire body tremble with anticipation.

“I know, I know,” he cooed, kissing the valley between your breasts, “‘t’s okay, baby. Be patient. I’ll take care of you.”

You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as you let out a mewl. You felt the hand Frank had been using to hold your head steady loosen its grip, and suddenly, he was softly wiping the tears away from under your eyes with his thumbs.

“You’re doing so good for me, bunny.” He murmured, and you very nearly came at the pet name he loved to praise you with. “‘m gonna make you feel real good, okay?”

“Please,” you begged, digging your fingers into his shoulders, “Need you.”

That was all it took for Frank to finally snap. In one swift motion, he wrapped his lips around your breast and began to run his tongue across your sensitive nipple. His hand traveled from cradling your cheek to rubbing small, sloppy circles around your pulsing clit. You keened, overcome with so much pleasure that you felt your entire body trembling against Frank’s.

The bathroom was big enough for your soft moans to echo, and other than the sloshing of the bath water, that was the sound Frank heard as you came apart on top of him. Your head was spinning as the heat in your gut finally found its release, uncoiling in waves of overwhelming pleasure that sent you reeling.

“That’s it,” he breathed, “Just like that, pretty girl. You’re so good for me, baby.”

His fingers hadn’t stopped circling your clit. You were quickly growing overstimulated and conflicted, wanting nothing more than to keep riding him while also needing to get away from his dexterous and sinful fingers. He watched you for a moment, in awe - the way your lips parted every time a moan slipped out of your mouth, the heaving of your chest as your heart rate tried and failed to return to normal, the intense trembling of your limbs every time he circled your clit. He wasn’t worthy. He knew that. He didn’t care. He’d take care of you for as long as you’d let him, and he’d enjoy every second of it.

“F-Frankie,” you stuttered in between heaving breaths, “I can’t- I’m- It’s sensitive.”

“Shh, sh, sh, sh, I know, baby. I know,” he cooed, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone and up your neck, “Can you give me one more, bunny? Be good and give me one more.”

You shuttered against him, resting your forehead against his and breathing out a sultry whine. He continued his onslaught of kisses along your jawline, following the upward curve of your chin until his lips were on yours again. His agile tongue swept into your mouth mid-moan, sending heat into your already molten core.

“Wanna feel you come around me again, baby.” He groaned and tightened his hold around your torso, sweeping his tongue along your bottom lip before capturing your mouth in his again.

He had brought you to the brink again already. You squeezed around him, earning a rare groan from Frank. The usually stoic and quiet man let out another sinful moan when you arched your back and squeezed again. He was as close as you were to the edge, and God, the tension was palpable.

Finally, in a moment of pure bliss, he nipped at your bottom lip and let out a soft, barely there whimper, which sent you careening off the edge and into oblivion. You could feel yourself clenching around him as you came, but your head had been sent straight to a euphoric haze. Your heart thundered in your chest as Frank wrapped his arms around your torso and held you tight against his chest, coming inside your sensitive, throbbing pussy.

You’d both worked yourselves into a haze, high off each other’s touch. The comedown was gentle and warm - soft caresses of each other’s skin, chaste kisses pressed to collarbones and fingertips, thundering heartbeats slowing in unison. The bath water was surprisingly still warm, and you couldn’t help but nuzzle into Frank’s chest with languorous, droopy eyes.

“You okay?” He asked, running his fingers up the length of your spine.

You nodded into his chest, sighing. “I’m perfect.”

“‘m glad.” He responded, kissing your forehead lightly. “‘m sorry you had such a rough week.”

“I’m not.” You giggled, glancing around at the luxurious bathtub you were in. “This place is like a dream.”

He held you tighter against him, resting his chin on your head before responding.

“You don’t know the half of it, pretty girl.”

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yanderestarangel · 7 months

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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐌𝐊1 | ☆ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌? ☆

⸺ TW: daddykink,sizekink, sub!reader, blowjob, v!sex, gunkink, bdsm, exhibitionism, voyeurism, afab anatomy, sex without a condom, porn plot, anal sex, use of vibrator, use of plugs, sex toys, no pronouns used other than " you."

ღ ୭·࣭࣪̇˖ Comments and reblogs are welcome <3 Do you want to make me a request? read my pinned post.

⸺ 𝐁𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐍

You two have a channel in PH with a considerable audience, you two are also dating, which means he won't allow you to have any collaborations with other porn channels.

You record POV videos! with you being the main attraction.

— Blowjob videos, with your mouth wrapped around his dick, Bi Han loves recording your face.

Bi Han is a HARD!DOM the few times you make videos with you on top of him, he likes being on top of you more but the few times you ride his dick, Bi Han makes a point of focusing the camera on your impaled pussy without a condom on his dick, even if it's dirty with cum, you'll keep riding it, he won't mind getting the best angle the first few times, for Bi Han you two can fuck several times until you get the perfect video - the perfect excuse for him to fill you up of sperm. -

The POV videos are always with you underneath him, always with Bi Han making you a submissive mess full of cum, smearing your belly, breasts, pussy and face, he wants to capture every moan, sigh and tremor of your body, so does he is bigger than you, which awakens a wilder and more primitive desire in him to make you even more submissive - he easily carries you around - and this also applies to porn videos, with Bi Han using his strength to lift you up and fuck you, showing your little pussy full and tight due to the jets of cum he threw inside you. You may be a shaking mess but he won't stop until he's satisfied. His voice is also successful - even though he has never shown his face, he doesn't worry about covering it either, leaking out sometimes, but he doesn't give a fuck - as it has a deep timbre, the grand master's moans excite anyone who sees it your spicy videos, especially because of the names he calls you and the things he says in the video.

"-Beg for it"

"-Kitty, look at me. Do you know that you're the best boy/girl?"

"-You look so pretty on your knees worshiping me, where you're supposed to be"

"-You like that, don't you? Of course you do."

"-Say my name little hoe."

"-Very good. Lower now, yes suck it little slut."

"-Not so hard now are you little one? Crying already like the dumb little baby you are."

"-God, you're beautiful like this ‐ on you knees covered in drool and dripping wet."

⸺ 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐕𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐃𝐀

It all started with a fetish for the two of you to record the sex you were having, mainly because Tomas was/is very busy as a Lin Kuei ninja. But then you decided to just post it and it went viral in less than 24 hours, which made Tomas almost cry with embarrassment - he turned red as a tomato - but you soon saw the monetary retention, deciding to continue sharing your intimate moment with world.

⸺ Vrbada doesn't take your PH channel very seriously, he likes to fuck you and you make money by having fun together, so he's happy with that.

He won't show up or allow you to show your face, he asks you to edit the video first, blurring any sign of your face - even studying which angle looks best so as not to show anything of you, other than your beautiful body. - Tomas is not selective like Bi Han, he likes to give you pleasure, especially doing oral, his tongue in your pussy, he loves that more than anything in life, if he could he would live between your thighs, that is, you Record his mouth sucking you and ministering to your clitoris, while he moaned and placed chaste kisses on your soft folds, quietly asking if you were okay, it would be slow, beautiful and calm sex.

Vrbada records the two of you mostly fucking in the dim light of the room, you riding on top of his dick, his hands exploring your bodysuit, your breasts bouncing as he pushed lightly, holding the camera with his other hand as he saw how much fun you were having on top of him.

Your audience is also considerable, as you two rarely post, but whenever you do it's a success, especially the riding on Tomas' aching cock that you do.

"-Please more..."

"-But I want to cum hmm... Fuck, I love your p-pussy my sweetheart."

"-Such a tight, eager pussy."

"-Take it all. Take every inch of my cock, please just take it all, like a good little slut."

"-Fucking hell, I'm going to cum I'm going to cum, please cum with me."

"-I'm going to make you cum so hard. I want you to feel every inch of me."

"-I... I can't take it anymore... I'm going to cum."

⸺ 𝐒𝐘𝐙𝐎𝐓𝐇

Syzoth has always had hidden desires, repressed for years and one of them was to fuck you and post it for everyone to see, so the idea came from him, for some reason he loves to have control in that sense, he records you, every inch of your body totally exposed to he is the camera roll - he also has unusual fetishes - It all started one night, he explained to you how he wanted to record you and post it he wanted to show everyone how much he could give you pleasure and how much he loved you, how much he could adore your body.

⸺ So it all started there, soon you opened an onlyfans and a channel on PH with Syzoth fucking your pussy, he liked to tie you up with red ropes or blindfold you in the videos leaving you at his mercy. He would also use toys, vibrators, dildos, nipple squeezers, even body oil on you, - even gun play sometimes - but his favorite was recording a video with you completely at his mercy, with your hands tied behind your back, your ass and pussy totally vulnerable, you were a quivering mess as he recorded you doggy style, overstimulated with your clit pulsing in need of his dick. He will fuck you from every possible angle, even recording small underground vlogs, where you talk a little with the public live and then fuck somewhere -

Speaking of lives, he loves doing them too, he likes to capture your reactions, always being affectionate with you, giving you kisses and massaging your body, he praises you while focusing the camera on his cock filling your pussy, the ripples of each rhythm of your skin as he slammed his hips against yours, he had to hold back from cumming beyond the stimulation of the chat, everyone praised his beautiful S/O for being such a receptive slut, making Syzoth smile and lean in even more, his balls His heavy weight hit your clitoris hard, a wet sound being echoed by the live he recorded, leaving the camera in a strategic point to capture everything, while he enjoyed your pussy and your moans, he wasn't going to untie you until he filled your uterus with cum .

"-You're doing so well.

"-I'm getting close. Let me hear you scream my name.”

"-Be my good boy/girl... Ride my cock and let me fill it up to you."

"-You're mine... My obedient little slut. I'm going to make you beg for my sperm."

"-You're doing well, they love you, you know? You're so beautiful (Y/N)."

⸺ 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄

Johnny has always loved the spotlight, regardless of what it was, so the idea of fucking you and showing everyone was tempting, but obviously, he will talk to you first, he will understand your limits and how far you want and can go.

⸺He opens a small studio in his mansion, just for the two of you, the best camera, the best lighting and most importantly, the best star... You.

Cage will love fucking you in every possible angle, he smiles roguishly at the camera seeing you surrender to his touch, talking about how well your pussy takes his dick and how beautiful you are. He's so desperate for you that he can't even maintain his dominant character, he just wants to fuck you and make you cum like the hungry animal he is - in other words, he'll be the same needy mess he is in private, unrecorded sex yours -

He wants you to appear as much as he does, especially in OF, with you moaning his name like a mantra, while he thrusts into your pussy with all his might or fucking you standing up, showing the camera your bouncy and soft breasts, holding your waist and telling him how good you are doing for him. Johnny will use everything in the videos, from characters he has played on the silver screen, to sex toys - his favorite is vibrators or anal plugs, using the vibrator on your clit while jamming his dick inside and moving the plug around. heart in your ass slowly, increasing the pleasure. He will record as many times as you can handle, but always giving you breaks to drink water or cuddle you, telling you how well you're doing and how beautiful you look - even if you're a shaky mess from the orgasms he caused -

- He also uses his nose... Maybe you feel it... -

He also loves reverse cowgirl, recording you desperate for his cock in the reflection of the large mirror in Cage's room, while he showed you two's faces of pleasure in the video, while he threw his head back, letting you take control of the riding his dick, while he demands to be called "Daddy" or "Daddy Johnny" slapping you hard on the ass.

"-Fuck, boy/girl... You're so provocative riding me like that, desperate for my cock."

"-Such a tight little pussy you have, my dear... Fuck I swear I'm going to destroy you with my dick."

"-You have no idea what you do to me (Y/N), I'm going to cum and fill you up, like the greedy little slut you are."

"-Harder, put that pussy to milk Daddy's cock, yes, just like that, damn it, I love you so much."

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

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nnon0 · 2 months

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prettygiri222 · 9 months

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Handle Me, Who Gon Handle Me?

Summary: you wanted to be fuck nigga free but Ony had different plans...

Ony x Black Fem Reader SMUT

“girl go talk to him.” your girlfriend said as she nudged your shoulder. you don’t even need to turn around to know who she’s talking about. the second you entered the party, a harsh gaze was glued to you, undressing you. it didn’t help that you barely had any clothes on but you were starting to shiver.

“i’m good, i don’t want to deal with any niggas tonight,” you said as you made up your face. no matter how fine the 6’4 darkskin with the taper fade, gold chain that matched his grills, and the pearly white tee and sweatpants combo where his dick pri- no! tonight was a nigga free night.

“let’s get some drinks. i’m tryna get fucked up!” you tried to switch the subject. you had just gotten out of a 4 year relationship after you found out your highschool sweetheart had been cheating on you. so you just wanted to go out and have some fun with ur bestie. something you haven't done in a while.

after a couple of drink you and your gf finally hit the floor. “shake that ass hoe!” she screamed out as you bent over. Sexxy Red was blaring on the speakers so you know you had to act out.

your ex would’ve been throwing a fit if he saw you right now. he always preached about how women should be respectable and how you were one of the only “good ones.” you should’ve noticed the red flags before you caught him dicking down the girl he promised was like a sister to him.

your ass was gonna be all over snap in the morning with the way you were throwing it. girls and guys behind you were tryna catch it before a stubborn grip found it’s way behind you.

“damn ma” a deep voice said behind you. you looked up at your friend and she was giving you the thumbs up, that told you all you need to know before ur hands hit the floor.

“YES BITCH!” the music was loud but ur friend was louder and one thing she was gonna do was hype you up.

“damn, hold on ma” the tight grip on ur hips seized. you took it as your chance to get up and turn around. turns out you’ve been dancing on the fine darkskin from before.

“what? can’t handle this?” you sassed. you wouldn’t have had the nerve to say this sober much less act out like this, but liquor was your liquid courage.

you didn’t miss the chance to check him out, eyeing him up and down before reaching to his eyes. they were red asf, and if that wasn’t your sign, he was high it was the way the smell of weed mixed with his cologne, creating a delicious scent that made you weak in the knees.

he checked you out with no concern in the world, eye fucking you in the middle of the party. “nah, i’m tryna get us out of here.” he spoke in that husky voice of his.

“i'm good” you said with fake nonchalance, his lowered gaze made you feel as if he could see right through you. “you wouldn’t be able to hand me anyways.” you quickly added looking away.

---

“w-wait!” you choked out. you reached backwards hopping it’ll slow him but he just slapped your hand away.

“don’t run away. you said i couldn’t handle you right?” after your sly little comment the man you learned as Onyankopon wasted no time having you spread out in the back of his blacked out hellcat.

“was lying.” it was like he wasn’t even listening to you. the second you got to the car, he had you ass up face down. you didn’t even have time to take off ur skirt he just pushed it up past your ass and pulled your thong to side. your tits falling out of your shirt cause you went braless.

“mhm.” he groans out deeply. he was drilling your shit hard, you don’t even remember how many times you came but he didn’t show signs of slowing.

“m sorry” you were crying at this point. he was wayyy bigger than ur ex, you've never been stretched you out like this. “Ony?” you whimpered as his thrusts begun to slow down before he removed it completely. he flipped you over on your back inserting himself back in one thrust.

“look at me when i’m fucking you ma’ or imma stop foreal.” he grabbed your jaw with one hand forcing you to look at him. your jaw was slacked as breathless moans left your mouth, your eyes were too hazed out to focus on him.

“look at me ma” he said softly as he lightly slapped your cheeks. you felt your orgasm building up more intensely than the last. you looked up at him, and the sight was enough to almost make you come again. Ony was above you shirtless, his chain dangling inches above your face, his sweat made him glisten in the dimlight.

“Onyyy s-slow down” you were pushing his stomach trying to squirm away from the onslaught of thrusts. he gripped your wrists and held them above your head with one hand and the other forced ur leg up beside your head.

“fuck that running shit ma’, you’re going to take. this. dick.” Ony was hammering into you at this point, you couldn’t even breath. your vision was going black as your orgasm approached.

“Ony!”

“I know ma’ give me a sec” Ony was chasing his release and felt himself come undone as you squeezed him, hard. “f-fuck ma’ come with me, please.” he begged.

he didn’t have to tell you twice, you both came together, bodies shaking as you reached climaxed. he rested his forehead on yours as you both came down from your high.

“think I did more than handle you ma” he said as he looked down, noticing the soaking mess you made on his red seats. “think you gon have to pay for it.” he said, smirking down at you.

#onyankopon smut #aot #aot x reader #aot smut #aot x black reader #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon snk #black reader #x black reader #anime smut #anime x black!reader

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morgluvsconnie · 4 months

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eren yeager is actually a hopeless romantic and he doesn’t know it.

no matter how hard he may act or seem, he loves you way harder than that. he buys you anything you want, as an apology, when he’s bored, when you’re sad, almost every week you have to tell him constantly not to buy you something, but he really doesn’t listen, and he doesn’t care.

the amount of necklaces, earrings, bracelets, shoes, clothes, and snacks that you’ve gotten from this boy (and more than that if it’s a special event.) is insane. everything you’ve ever touched in the store, looked at online, or even just called cute, he’s gotten it for you.

and he just loves the thought of you. he can talk about you from the time he wakes up to the time he’s getting ready for bed. he loves everything about you. your hair, your eyes, your body, skin, lips, the way your nails are always done with a color you let him pick, the way you’re just completely comfortable around him, everything.

if he hears your name, he’s quick to brag about how much of a good girlfriend you are instead of how much he gives you.

“yeah, she just…” then he’d click his tongue. “ion know. it’s just sum bout her that make her different from everybody else. like, the way she act… and how she be smilin’ and shit.”

he’s so adorable when it comes to you.

you’ll catch him admiring you all the time and when you did, he’d try to play it off like there was something on your face.

before you, he was all “what i need one hoe if three want me?”

now a girl can’t even look at him. if a girl approaches him, he wouldn’t even think about anything beyond getting her the fuck out his face.

and he don’t care bout nunna that ‘go through phones’ shit, cus he really has nothing to hide. the worst that would happen is you finding an embarrassing middle school picture of him.

but other than that, it’s really nothing.

and no, he isn’t clingy. but he can’t be from around you for a long time. say you were too tired to go out, and he just wanted to go smoke wit his friends. he’d text you from time to time to make sure you’re okay, then go about his business.

give it like three hours, then that’s when he starts checking the time over and over again because he wants to make sure he has enough time with you when he gets home before you both go to sleep.

but he was just ready to get home so that you could scratch his head for him, do face masks (which he didn’t even like, he just liked how you’d rub his soft face every time you peeled it off, minus his forehead hairs ripping out), and then match pajamas for a random movie night.

every day, and every night was something different with you. that’s what he liked.

he also liked the fact that you and him were each others longest relationship (since tenth grade).

so even through all the arguments and ups and downs in your relationship, the only thing he knew, was that he would love you no matter how many times you said you didn’t need a gift, no matter how many times you’d tell him he’d already kissed you three seconds ago, and no matter how long he hugged you when he was only going to the kitchen.

you were really his best friend, and he wouldn’t change that for the world.

#eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren x black yn #eren yaeger x reader #eren yeager headcanons #eren headcanons #aot eren

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mochimooon · 6 months

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DTF Only - aot x reader 18+ masterpost and prologue - complete!

Summary: Barely twenty-four hours after getting dumped by your now ex-boyfriend, Colt, your best friends are quick to conspire your next course of action: slutting yourself out on Tinder. Prologue word count: 1k+ Notes: Welcome to the world of online dating, featuring the men of AoT !! This was a project I started back in September, loosely based on my own (and my best friend's) weird encounters with online dating. Lighthearted, smutty, not to be taken seriously, this fic is pure crack. Although it does have a plot, it's not necessary to read every chapter if you just want to skip to your favorite AoT guy (each chapter is linked). Also, all characters (except two) are written to be in their early 30s. Lastly, the headers used don't directly depict what actually happens in the fics. Afab! reader using she/her pronouns Warnings: smut in every chapter (except prologue), explicit content, explicit language, lots of casual sex (more warnings included per chapter), mild Colt-bashing available to read on ao3

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ !!

Happy Hour — Porco Galliard Out of Towner — Reiner Braun Let's Experiment — Connie Springer Girl Dinner — Jean Kirstein DTF — Zeke Jaeger Tinder Whore — Eren Jaeger Super Like — Levi Ackerman taglist: @moonmalice @daisynik7 @theragethatisdesire @squidalapobre @arlerts-angel @shepnicolo @porples-blog @jeanboyjean @fictional-d-supremacy

“Time to enter the hoe phase.”

Pieck’s eyes light up in Ymir’s direction, and together they turn to you with mischievous grins.

Barely twenty-four hours after getting dumped by your now ex-boyfriend, Colt, your best friends are quick to conspire your next course of action: slutting yourself out on Tinder.

It feels like a movie. Meeting up with your girlfriends on a Saturday night for overpriced margaritas (on them thankfully) to catch up and console you as you process the breakup.

The only difference between you and those heartbroken women on screen is that you don’t know how to feel. You’re not sad, you’re not happy, you’re indifferent.

Three years together you and Colt had settled into a routine. He lived an hour away, but you both put in the effort to see each other. You don’t know when things turned stagnant, only that the spark had fizzled a long time ago. The phone calls and visits became forced, and the sex…

“You’re single now,” Ymir explains, crunching on a tortilla chip. “Got to make up for lost time. Didn’t you say Colt was too stiff in bed?”

Heat blazes beneath your skin. “I never said that.”

Colt was not stiff in bed. He was selfless, ready to please, prioritizing your needs first before he got in his kicks. You liked having sex with him, didn’t need the grandeur to enjoy it—

Ymir and Pieck deadpan in your direction. Without further rebuttal, you fall speechless, and to your friends that’s as good as a confession.

You hate them (you don’t). You hate that they’re right.

Although the sex did the job, it lacked the passion that was once there when you two first started dating a lifetime ago. Eventually you grew a little bored. It became repetitive, lackluster even, that you were only half-satisfied by the end of each session. To feed your sexual appetite, you resorted to your vibrator more and more, a toy that you had initially purchased for you and Colt to use together.

“Anyways…” Ymir drawls. “He’s history and so is the vanilla sex. Now, you can let your inner sex fiend out.”

You roll your eyes “You mistake me for someone else.”

Ymir snorts, leveling you with a knowing look. “Yeah right. You weren’t a Puritan before you met Colt. If online dating was more of a thing back in our twenties, you would have been kicking and slipping every night of the week, more than you already were.”

Your skin heats up again, burning the tips of your ears. Sure, in your twenties, you were what some would call ‘floozy’ in nature back then. In your defense, you were a university student, out on your own, and you were definitely not the only person partaking in hookup culture. Now, at thirty, with how normalized it is, you know you’re not the last one either. If anything, being in a relationship these days is more of an anomaly.

“Not judging you for your relationship by the way,” Pieck says as a buffer. “Colt’s a nice guy, but he did water you down, you stopped coming out—”

You turn to her. “It’s because—”

“He’s a lightweight, yeah, yeah,” Ymir supplies, bored. “You were too much for him. You’re fun, and Colt?” Ymir’s dark eyes go into orbit. “—snooze.”

As much as you’d like to defend your ex-boyfriend’s honor, your mind draws a blank.

“His loss.” Pieck licks the rim of her margarita glass.

Ymir crunches on another chip, smiling wryly. “Back to my genius idea: Tinder. You’ll have so many options now. You don’t need to find your next boyfriend on it, just meet new people and be down to fuck only."

She says it so simply, but you can’t help feeling like there’s a catch.

“There’s no better place to explore sexual freedom than on Tinder,” Pieck says. “Scope out the market, see what you’ve been missing out on.”

You take a hearty sip of the margarita, lip curling. “I don’t even know how to date anymore.”

Pieck tuts. “No one does. There’s no formula either. Tinder requires an open mind, if you overthink it, then you’re not doing it right.”

“It’s about getting to know yourself better while also getting laid. It’s a win-win,” Ymir says. “There’s nothing for you to lose, only gain.”

You raise a brow. “Doesn’t that seem…wrong? We just broke up.”

Pieck blinks, lowering her margarita. “Do you think Colt’s just sulking around?”

You shake your head. “No, that’s not what I mean. He can go on dates, I guess. It’s just that it feels so new and so soon.”

As you hear yourself, you realize how unsure you sound. Since Colt dumped you, it’s pointless to expect that he’d waste any time before diving back into the dating pool. If that’s what he’s doing, you’re not bothered by it. And the guilt you expect to feel for considering an idea like online dating is nowhere to be seen either.

Perhaps it’s your way of making sense of why you feel so…nonchalant about the whole thing. Is there a politically or morally correct way to behave after a break-up?

“Of course not!” Ymir says with a lighthearted scoff. “The second you become a free agent, you can do whatever and whoever you want. Emphasis on the ‘free’ part.”

She’s right, you suppose.

Ymir takes your brief silence to further argue her idea. “The whole point is to have fun, no strings. If you’re not going to wallow, then get out there and be a hoodrat."

Pieck laughs, and you feel the mood lighten.

It’s not a bad idea. You’re still not sure how to process the break-up. You’re not hurt, but you are in this limbo of where to go from here. Carry on like normal? Cry? Neither align with your state of mind.

You’re not hard to convince, reaching for your phone and downloading the app. “Let’s see what’s up.”

A look passes between your friends that could only be described as impish. You bite back the urge to roll your eyes and set up your profile.

After Pieck and Ymir guide you on what to add to your bio, what you’re looking for, help you pick out the best selfies etc., the true fun begins.

In the beginning it’s awkward, reading and checking a person’s pictures and deem whether he you want to talk to them. But it doesn’t take long for you to ease into it.

The coaxing and the margarita might have played roles, but after a few profiles, it becomes an addiction.

Swiping one after another, skimming through varying profiles (a lot of them have their height included), questionable choices of selfies (many shirtless at the gym), it’s all a rush that the three of you had far too much fun crowding over your phone that night.

“Why does he have a screenshot of his credit score?” Pieck balks.

“No fucking way, that guy’s in a diaper?” Ymir’s eyes go wide. “This one says he and his wife want to be a throuple.” You swipe left.

At some point, you do swipe right on a couple of profiles, purely based on their looks, hardly giving their bios a proper onceover.

At the end of the night, you’re past the point of tipsy, tired, but pleased to have had a fun night with your best friends. As you doze off in bed that night, your phone lights up with several new notifications on your nightstand.

#aot x reader #aot fanfiction #levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan #porco galliard x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #reiner braun x reader #connie springer x reader #jean kirstein x reader #eren jaeger x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #eren yeager x reader #zeke yeager x reader #aot smut #mochi-writings #dtf only series

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valleyof-goldenlilies · 5 months

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The Winter Formal - Modern! Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Forced to be your annoying, arrogant academic rival’s date for your university’s Christmas Formal was already a nightmare in itself. Getting drunk? Now that was just a recipe for disaster.

Pairing: Modern! Aemond Targaryen x AFAB! Reader

Warnings: profanity, angst, some talks of drunk violence, academic dumb idiot rivals to lovers, lovesick Aemond, p in v sex, degradation, face sitting (f!receiving), tiddy play, use of 'atta girl' (pls let me know if i missed anything)

Word Count: 6.92k words

A/N: hoe hoe hoe! a very merry late Christmas and Happy New Year in advance from me to you :) MAY THE AEMOND NATION PLS ARISE, bcuz this is for you guys ;)

lovely dividers credited to @firefly-graphics !

For as long as you could remember, you had always hated Aemond Targaryen’s guts.

Maybe it was a hatred programmed in you since birth, but it made little sense, since your mother and Aemond’s mother, Alicent Targaryen, had been inseparable companions since high school. It was your mother who supported Alicent throughout her marriage, acting as a close, trusted confidant during her clashes with their old friend and Alicent’s new stepdaughter, Rhaenyra, and throughout her miserable marriage. They had even gotten pregnant at around the same time, your mother with you, and Alicent with Aemond, and they were sure that their children would share the same strong bond as they had.

So, it had been quite unfortunate, and ironic, when you and Aemond ended up being each other’s number 1 enemies.

You disliked plenty of things about him: how he always thought he was the best in the room, and actually had something to show for it - always coming in at the top of the classes you shared. History, geography, mathematics, english…bloody hell. It hurt worse when he always flaunted the results in your face.

Got a 98 for English? Aemond would get a 99, shoot you a taunting sympathetic grin and said: “Better luck next time.” He knew you were always actively seeking a chance to beat him, and he found a certain sort of thrill in it, in taunting you.

That little fuckhead.

It was a nigging thorn in your side, since you always strove to be the best that you could at everything. And you were always so, so, close.

Yet not close enough. As you were made to watch Aemond on stage every year at your school’s academic awards ceremony, a smirk on his face, looking like an overly self-righteous pufferfish as he lifted his first place trophy in the air. Like he had just won some fucking world championship. Meanwhile, you had to stand backstage, gritting your teeth and fisting the fabric of your uniform in your hands as you waited to be called on stage to receive your award as second place in your whole cohort. Not close enough as you were forced to be designated as salutatorian at the end of your senior year in high school, while Aemond shot you the most self-satisfied grin ever as he deliberately brushed past you to give his valedictorian speech.

You swore, if your diploma was not at stake that day, you would’ve pummelled him right in his smug, grinning face.

That year before you were due to start at King’s Landing University, however, Aemond had suffered a horrible accident in a brawl at a bar during Christmas along with his younger nephews, Jacaerys Velaryon and Lucerys Velaryon. He had come out of it with one eye permanently scarred from the glass shard of a broken beer bottle, and a colder, more sullen attitude. Despite the offer of a prosthetic eye by his step sister, Rhaenyra, Aemond had refused, instead putting on an eyepatch to hide his scarred right eye.

When your mother had recounted to you the incident with much solemnity, you had felt a strange sense of turmoil in you. You didn’t want to feel sorry for Aemond Targaryen, of all people, but it was a tragic incident that no one deserves to have befallen on them. So you could only shift uncomfortably in your seat, as your mother made meaningful eyes at you, trying to elicit some sympathy and concern from you.

Because of that incident, Aemond’s admission to university had to be put on hold, as the professors at the university were unsure if Aemond’s plans to double major in law and history would be impeded by the loss of his eye, and he had to take additional exams to prove that his studies would not be affected in any way.

So you were surprised when on the first day of classes, during your first class of the day - Constitutional Law - you caught sight of a familiar figure seated at the front of the class. Dressed in an expensive black cashmere sweater and tailored trousers, his long white hair neatly bunched up at the top of his head in a bun, eyepatch slung over his right eye, Aemond Targaryen sat there with an impassive look on his face, browsing through his lecture notes. Like some dark shadow the Seven sought to inflict upon you. You wanted to groan in frustration when the only seats left at the front were both next to him - clearly no one had summed up enough courage to sit next to the imposing Targaryen. Gripping the strap of your backpack a little tighter, you stalked up to the front, taking a seat at the right of him.

He barely looked up as you slid into your seat - a surprising change. Usually back when you were in high school, he would always greet you with that infuriating smirk on his face, one that screamed superiority at every turn. Gods, how much you had hated that. Yet, you felt a strange sense of emptiness at not being greeted.

Ignoring that, you pulled out your own textbooks and self-made notes, tying your hair up into a neat ponytail as you began reviewing your notes. From the front, you could hear very clearly what the rest of the class were gossiping about, and the whisperings about Aemond were unpleasant. You paused as you listened to them, gripping your highlighter a little tighter as you shot side glances at Aemond - still studying, not letting anything give. Was he truly not bothered by them? When he was younger, he always had something to prove whenever someone gossiped about him, having been bullied in the past. Why was he so silent? Who was this phantom?

“Are you going to keep staring?” Aemond’s cool voice broke through your thoughts, and you felt your cheeks heat up as you realise you’ve been caught. You sniffed haughtily, turning away. “Who said I was staring?” Aemond scoffed, not turning to look at you still, for whatever reason. “You were. Don’t try to deny it.” He paused for a while, eye fixed on a passage.

“I don’t want your pity, you know.” You bristled, startled. “As if I ever would.” You waited for Aemond to retort with a snarky remark, but you were surprised when he kept silent, and responded coldly. “Good. keep it that way.”

You shot him a discerning look, but before you could say anything else, the professor arrived, and all thoughts of Aemond Targaryen’s new unapproachability had vanished into thin air.

You soon came to learn that while Aemond had ceased the taunting of your youthhood, it was like losing an eye had made him even more driven somehow. You found you and him falling into old patterns, restarting your fierce rivalry. Only this time, you managed to succeed in getting the best of him in certain modules, such as for Civil Law modules, much to your delight. It only served to make Aemond more steely, however, and the both of you often found yourself partaking in the same student committees, always competing for the top spots in planning school events.

Like now, in the meeting called to discuss the planning of the school’s Winter Formal.

“I think that that’s a shit idea,” Aemond’s blunt words took everyone aback, but few dared to oppose him, too intimidated by the tall man.

And the few who dared were mostly you, anyway.

You raised your eyebrow, tapping your pen on the planning document in front of you. “It’s a winter formal, Targaryen. And white and gold is the traditional theme used for most formals. Isn’t it nice to spruce things up a bit?”

“You’re proposing to reinvent a winter formal that has been steeped in centuries of tradition,” Aemond remarked sarcastically, glaring at you. “Do you know how many distinguished alumni and guests are on the guest list? I doubt they would find your ‘Christmas Wonderland’ theme proposal charming in any way. Most likely, they’ll think it gaudy and it’ll reflect badly on the school.”

You snorted, wanting to toss the pen in his fucking infuriating face. Him and his know-it-all voice. “Yes, but you forget, Targaryen, that I am the head of this project. Not you.” You turned to the other members of the planning committee, who all look like they would rather be anywhere other than here, in the midst of you and Aemond’s bickering. “All of those in favour of revamping the winter formal theme, please raise your hands.”

Your reputation as a tenacious leader clearly had an effect, as most of the members tentatively raised their hands. Shooting a triumphant grin at Aemond, you smugly noted it down and began drafting up the students in charge of decorations.

One for you, and zero for Aemond. At long last.

Aemond had reluctantly gone along with the Christmas Wonderland theme, and even he had to admit, a little bit of colour certainly didn’t hurt. White and gold were such dreadfully boring colours, and many of the school’s faculty had expressed their praise for the changed theme this year, much to your delight.

However, so busy were you with the planning of the winter formal, that you had neglected to do a few important things for yourself.

Buying a dress and getting a date.

You paced back and forth in your dorm in panic, two days before the night of the Winter Formal, as your roommate, Rosina, looked at you with increasing frustration. “How could I be so stupid to have forgotten about those things?” You groaned, slumping down on an armchair and putting your head in your hands.

“The dress problem can be easily solved,” Rosina said bluntly, leaning back against her pillows. “I’ll just lend you one of mine. And who gives a flying fuck about not having a date? A lot of people don’t.”

“Yes, but I’m the head of the planning committee for this event!” you griped, as Rosina rolled her eyes. “I still don’t see the problem, apart from your stupid fucking dignity getting in the way as usual.” Usually, you loved Rosina’s deadpan, take-no-bullshit nature, but it wasn’t really helpful now.

“Anyway, from what I've heard, Targaryen doesn’t have a date either, so you don’t need to stress. He’s second-in-charge after you, anyway, so if he doesn’t have a date, you should be fine. It won't be that humiliating.” You slowly lifted your face up, looking at Rosina urgently. “Targaryen doesn’t have a date?”

“Yeah,” Rosina wrinkled her nose. “He’s hot, sure. But literally everyone who had the courage to ask got rejec- where the fuck are you going?” You were putting on your bra, and brushing through the tangles of your hair. “This is so fucking stupid, but I’m going to ask him.”

“Are you crazy?” Rosina came to stand next to you, hands on her hips as you roughly used a hairbrush to comb out a tangle. “You know you both hate each other right?”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” you bit out. “Wish me luck!” You blew a kiss to Rosina as you left the dorm. “Good luck, you crazy bitch!” You could hear Rosina holler as the dorm room closed behind you.

You took a deep breath, eyes resting on the dorm door before you. Right. You didn’t know what exactly had possessed you to come here. Maybe it was sheer panic, or stupidity, or both. You knocked lightly, but it seemed no one was in, which made you come to your senses a little bit. “This was a stupid idea,” you muttered, retracting your hand, wanting to just scurry back to your dorm.

Turning around, however, you knocked into a hard chest. “Oof! I’m so sorry!” You gasped out, before your eyes met a familiar lilac one, an indifferent expression etched on his face. Fucking hell.

“And what are you doing at my dorm this late, little bookworm?” His voice was raspy, and you couldn’t help but shift your weight from one leg to the other. Was it too late to run?

You were never a quitter though. And like you said, desperate times called for desperate measures.

“The winter formal,” you reluctantly gritted out. “I wanted…to ask you to be my date.” Aemond raised an eyebrow, and for a split second, you could see that self-satisfied boy from your youthood again. “You know, you’re supposed to say please, little bookworm.”

You bit your tongue, wanting to snark him and be done with it. ‘Calm down, calm down, you really do need him. Play nice, Y/N.’ you told yourself sternly, sighing. “Please, will you go to the winter formal with me as my date?” Aemond smirked, looking down at you. Your head was bowed, and he could hear you grinding your teeth a little. You were just too cute sometimes.

“You should look up at someone when making a request of them, you know,” Aemond said blandly, putting his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. Your mouth dropped open, was he serious right now? This dickhead-

“You know what, fuck it,” you sniffed, beginning to walk away. “If you’re going to be a dick about it as usual, then there’s no point in continuing this conversation. Good fucking night, Targaryen.”

Aemond watched you walk away, the smirk never leaving his face. You went back to your dorm, immediately burying your face in the pillow, ignoring Rosina’s exasperated sighs of ‘I told you so’. All night, you tossed and turned in frustration, but when morning broke, Rosina shook you awake, ignoring your grumbles.

You got out of bed grumpily to see what the fuss was about, only to find a note sitting on the table, in a familiar scrawl.

“Go to the address written below and pick out a dress for tomorrow. Knowing you, you definitely didn’t have time to find one. I’ve already made payment arrangements, so just find one that you like. See you tomorrow.

Your date,

Aemond Targaryen.”

Rosina snorted, bumping your shoulder as you scanned the note for the third time, trying to make sure he wasn’t pulling your leg. “He so likes you.” You looked askance at her. “That’s bullshit.” Rosina chuckled, “Yeah. it’s not, and you know it too.” The conversation abruptly ended when you snatched up a stray cushion and began hitting her with it, ignoring her squeals as she tried to escape. It was impossible.

And yet?

A warm feeling burrowed into your stomach, and stayed there for the rest of the day.

On the night of the Winter Formal, you were frantically scrabbling around your dorm, affixing the final pins to your hair, putting on your final touches of makeup. Rosina was still in classes, but as the winter formal started at 7:30, you, being your endlessly worrying, perfectionist self, had to go at 6 to make sure everything was in order before the guests poured in.

A knock at the door sounded, and you yelled in response, putting on your lipstick. “Give me a second!” As you swung open the door, your breath momentarily stuttered in your throat.

Oh dear.

Aemond stood outside the door, looking like he had just stepped out of the fucking Met Gala or something. He was dressed in a three-piece suit, black with red lapels, with a few shimmers of silver scattered here and there, like he was coated in a layer of stardust. His suit jacket wasn’t really a normal jacket, but a sharply cut cape coat, which made him look a little imposing, but handsome all the same. It was embroidered with small dragon insignias, and you remembered Aemond’s family’s crest was a dragon or something. Of course he would find a way to incorporate that into his outfit. His family were one of the biggest donors of the university, after all.

You gave him an appraising look, one hand on your hip as you surveyed him. “You…look nice.” Aemond smirked, tossing some of his white-blonde locks over his shoulder haughtily. “I can dress myself, you know. Don’t need to act surprised now.” You rolled your eyes, and Aemond took the chance to scan you from head to toe as well. Dressed in a gorgeous strapless gown of midnight blue, your bodice was streaked with silver as well, shining like starlight among the deep blue of your dress. The skirt flared into elaborate ruffles of tulle and black lace that were almost invisible against the backdrop of the dress, and small silver sparkles twinkled among the ruffles of your gown.

You narrowed your eyes as you realised the both of you were matching, did he do this on purpose? From the way Aemond’s eye was shining in mischief, you were most certain that he did.

“You look…breathtaking,” his next words took you aback, and you regarded him with a look of unease, unsure of how to respond. Was this truly the Aemond Targaryen you knew? The one whose only language was taunting or disagreeing with you? You somehow managed to recover some semblance of sanity, nodding stiffly. “Thanks…I guess.”

A self-satisfied smirk appeared on his lips again, as he offered you his arm. “Shall we get going, then? I’m sure you will want to inspect the venue and get your nose into every single little crook and cranny to make sure that it’s perfect.”

You rolled your eyes, your arm, which were clad in silver silk gloves, slipping into his gingerly. “Spoken like someone who wouldn’t do the same.”

The formal had been progressing smoothly so far, apart from the few drunken incidents here and there, which you discreetly handled and made a note to provide less alcohol at these events. Much to your delight, your professors had introduced you to some attorneys whom you deeply admired, commending you as one of their finest students in the year. You had taken the chance to network and mingle with them, eagerly seeking out internship and shadowing opportunities for your upcoming holidays, particularly in the field of civil litigation, and many of them had given you their contact details for you to contact them should you wish to work with them.

Aemond stood by you like a silent shadow, watching but not saying much, but your professors also praised him, introducing him to many esteemed alumnus. And once they had learnt that Aemond was from the prestigious Targaryen family, many of them immediately took to flocking Aemond, asking him many questions about his family, his plans for studies, and so on. A slight burning sensation of envy rose in your heart as you watched Aemond disinterestedly converse with them. Why wasn’t he taking it seriously? Had it been you, you would be seizing the opportunity to network with them.

‘He's a Targaryen,’ you sighed internally. ‘Of course he wouldn’t. It’s been pretty much handed to him on a silver platter his own life anyway.’

Sullenly, you slipped away, making rounds around the party to ensure that everything was progressing smoothly. Still, it couldn’t curb the irritableness you were feeling, so you snatched up a bottle of whiskey from the drinks table, pouring yourself a glass. Then two. Then three. Then four turned to seven and seven turned to thirteen glasses. Your surroundings blurred as time seemed to slow, and you sighed, feeling a heady pounding in your head.

“Are you serious?” A gruff voice interrupted you in your fifteenth? Twentieth? Glass of whiskey, and you looked up from where you had sunk into a plush armchair, a glazed over, slightly cantankerous expression on your face.

“Well, well,” you hiccuped, lifting the glass to your lips. “If it isn’t Mr Bigshot Targaryen.” Aemond sighed in annoyance, knowing you were picking a fight again. He made a quick assessment of your surroundings, noting two empty whiskey bottles and a third one that was almost drained. Seven fucking Hells, you were drunk.

You let out an indignant yelp as a hand plucked away your whiskey tumbler, setting it down with a definitive clink. “Hey, I was drinking that!”

“You’re fucking drunk out of your mind, little bookworm,” he said quietly, crossing his arms. “I’m taking you back to your dorm.” You hiccuped again. “You’re not my dad, Targaryen. So why don’t you just run along and socialise with those schmoozy lawyer friends of yours, hmm? They were all eager to have a piece of you. Or have you grown tired already?”

Aemond wanted to smack you in the forehead. Oh, this godsforsaken woman. “I may not be your dad, yes,” he rumbled, snatching away the whiskey bottle that you were reaching for and making you curse at him. “But I would be damned if I let you get drunk on your first Christmas Eve spent away from your family.”

You gave him a confused look. “Is it Christmas Eve?” Aemond frowned. He put a hand on your forehead, to check for a fever, which you promptly batted away. “Have you lost all your senses? The winter formal was scheduled on Christmas Eve, remember?”

“Oh.” was all you could say, lamely. “I…I was so busy. I didn’t remember.”

Aemond sighed, taking a seat in the armchair next to you. It was good that it was late and most of the guests had already left, so the both of you had some privacy. The vast hall was empty now, save for a few cleaners. “You know, you have got to take more time for yourself. You take on too many commitments.”

You hiccuped, snorting softly. Perhaps it was the liquid courage, but you felt a strong inclination to vent out all your previous frustrations on Aemond right now. Who the hell did he think he was, criticising you for your decisions?

“Yeah, and it’s all your fucking fault.” Aemond’s eye widened incredulously, his mouth dropping open. “My fault? Pray tell, did I ever tell you to overwork yourself that you forget to keep track of when Christmas was?”

“It’s because of you that I have to overwork myself!” you blustered out, a tidal wave of emotions overtaking you. “Because you’re always so fucking perfect, and smart, and good at every single goddamn thing under the sun. Meanwhile, compared to you, I’ve always had to work twice as hard. And yet, I never come close to beating you. Despite how many fucking extracurriculars I have, how many A’s I get, how much praise I get for being ‘one of the best students in the grade’, it’s never fucking enough! Because you’re always the best! And I’m so sick of it!”

After your tirade, you deflated like a balloon sucked clean of its air, collapsing back against the armchair. You felt hot wet streaks cascading down your face, but you didn’t care anymore. You were just so tired…it wasn’t fair. Why did he have to be so perfect?

The touch of a hand on your shoulder startled you, and the next thing you knew, Aemond Targaryen embraced you, gently stroking your hair as if you were a lost child, and he was consoling you. Despite your mind screaming at him to let go, it didn’t translate to your physical actions. You just…stayed there, sobbing in his arms. “I hate you so much, you know. You’ve always had everything handed to you on a silver platter, and it’s like you don’t even care. You always treat things for granted,” you continued rambling on, the dizzy sensation in your head gradually increasing.

Aemond was silent for a long time. He never anticipated you to feel this way, and the shock from your revelations sent his head reeling. He sighed, how could he ever tell you that he had a stupid crush on you since you were little kids? That his attempts at teasing you, riling you up, were all so you could just look at him for a second longer, even if it was with a scowl? How could he tell you that none of his A’s or first place trophies could make him feel the same fuzzy way he felt whenever you looked at him? He opened his mouth to speak, debating on whether to comfort you, or tell you all his feelings. “Y/N-”

With a start, he realised you were asleep in his arms as you let out a snore, body slack in his arms. He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. Wonderful. This was just the Christmas Eve he wanted.

The sound of an alarm jolted you from a deep slumber. You flung off the blankets covering you, sitting up in bed and rubbing your eyes. “Ugh…” the pounding in your head was overwhelming, it was like there were a party of elephants having a fiesta in your brain right now. “What time is it…” you reached for the alarm clock to turn it off, only to freeze when a hand reached for it before you did.

You and Aemond Targaryen stared at each other, wide-eyed, in the dim light of the dorm, while the red digits on the clock read, “6a.m.”

You were the first to react, frantically struggling as you scooted to the far end of the bed. “Aaaahhhh!” you screamed, clutching the duvet closer to you for protection. “What the fuck are you doing in my dorm?”

“Wait, we didn’t-” you looked down at yourself, noting with palpable relief that you were still in your winter formal attire, though you stank of alcohol. Thank the Seven.

Aemond rolled his eyes, grumbling as he switched off his alarm clock. “No, we didn’t sleep together. And this isn’t your dorm. It’s mine.”

“Then what in the name of the Seven and all that is holy am I doing here?” You hollered at him, the confusion coupled with the pounding in your head making your surroundings spin. “Ow…my head.”

“Yeah, it’s called a hangover,” Aemond snided, taking a seat on the bedspread. “You know, for drinking nearly three bottles of whiskey last night.”

Your eyes went wide in horror. “Last night…” You weren’t the type to forget what you did while drunk, so your memory quickly raced through last night’s events, where you got drunk, and…fucking shit.

You squeezed your eyes shut, muttering curses under your breath as you remembered what had happened last night. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. An awkward silence had lapsed in the room, as you struggled to find words to acquit you of this predicament. ‘Me and my big mouth while I’m drunk.’

“I’m sorry,” you both blurted out at the same time, before breaking off, staring at each other awkwardly. “Wait, why are you sorry?” you questioned him, looking dumbfounded. Aemond sighed, smiling wistfully. “Isn’t it obvious? For making you feel that way. I…I had no idea you did.”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off brusquely, awkwardly fiddling with your fingers as the duvet slowly slid back down. “It’s all just fucking stupid, anyway. Let’s just let it go-”

Suddenly Aemond seized your hands, holding onto them with some sort of restrained anger. Startled, you stared up at him, as his one eye glazed over with pain and sorrow. “Of course it’s not fine. Don’t brush aside your feelings like that.” you stared at him, stupefied. What had gotten into him?

Aemond inhaled deeply, looking down at your hands. “You know…how I lost my eye over the break last year right?” You nodded warily, not sure where this was headed. Aemond’s voice shook a little as he recounted that incident. “It was because Luke was drunk, really. He wanted to pick a fight with this guy because he had stolen his girlfriend. And then next thing we knew, his goons surrounded us. Then, I think maybe it was the heat of the moment, or adrenaline…but Luke had a glass shard in his hand, and he accidentally attacked me.” You felt your heart plummet to your stomach. “What?”

Aemond smiled, a contortion of pain and feigned impassivity. “He was drunk out of his mind, he probably thought I was one of the goons by accident. By the time Jace pulled him off, it was a little too late.” He sighed. “You know, the drunk part I can forgive, but the worst part was that my father didn’t even care to hear my side of the story. He just said that we should’ve been more careful.” His voice hardened, “I was angry, because he just chose to brush this under the rug, pretend like we were still one big happy family, like Luke didn’t slash out my eye in a drunken rage. He didn’t try to comfort me, or understand my situation. And I just…” he shrugged helplessly.

You bit your bottom lip, looking at his scarred eye. “I’m sorry…that must have hurt. A lot. Your dad is a dick.”

The ghost of a smirk lingered on Aemond’s lips. “Yeah…he is. I’ve made my peace with it though, and Luke has never stopped apologising since that day. So it is what it is.” He hesitated, before reaching up tentatively, taking off his eyepatch. A gasp sounded from you as you took in the sapphire crammed into where his right eye should’ve been. “...does it look scary?” Aemond asked you, his voice small. You shook your head, unable to tear your gaze away. “It’s not. It’s…quite beautiful, actually. Even though it’s a bit macabre.”

Aemond chuckled, gently brushing aside a strand of your messed up hair. “My point is, don’t try to just brush things under the rug, okay? It never did anyone any good, and it won’t for you as well.” You shifted, a faint sense of discomfort prickling your skin. “But why…are you telling me all this?” ‘Why are you being so nice? I hated you.’

Aemond barked out a rough laugh. “Isn’t it obvious? I have a crush on you, little bookworm.”

You blinked. Once. twice. Thrice. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I have a crush on you. Since we were kids." Aemond repeated himself, his voice light with amusement, but tender. “Did you know why I always teased you? Why I always wanted to make you frustrated? It was because I wanted your attention. I didn’t care if it was negative or positive, which in hindsight, didn’t seem like a good choice.”

You stared at him, mouth agape. He-he can’t be serious, can he?

“You don’t have to say anything,” Aemond said quickly, releasing your hands. “I just wanted you to know how I felt. No brushing things under the rug, you know.” Still, Aemond could feel his heart breaking a little at your silence. He had shot his shot, even though you made it clear that you disliked him. He shouldn’t expect much. “Little bookworm?” he asked carefully, observing your expression.

“For someone so smart., you’re a real idiot, you know that?” Aemond opened his mouth to answer, but before he knew it, your lips were on his, as you launched yourself at him. Aemond’s eye widened, but then you mumbled, “You’re supposed to kiss me back, you know.”

Then, with a choked laugh, Aemond did, reaching up to cup your cheeks and stroke them with his thumb as he returned the kiss from the girl of his dreams. Your lips moved in perfect tandem to one another, filled with tender, sweet desperation. “I’ll be an idiot, an annoying pest, anything you want.” Aemond murmured, his lips breaking away for a moment. “As long as you keep tormenting me, as long as you’re still here. I would be your anything.”

You laughed, feeling slight tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. “You’re such a doofus, you know that?” Aemond flipped you over, making you land on your back with a yelp, as he hovered over you, smirking. “I know. But I’m your doofus.”

Aemond continued kissing you, his hands roaming across your body sweetly, carefully. “This is probably the best Christmas of my life,” Aemond muttered softly against your lips. Your eyes widened, “Shoot, I completely forgot again.” Aemond laughed, sitting up and looking down at you with a naughty grin on his face. “Well, I actually have a present for you, you know.”

You raised your eyebrows, looking up at him. Even in nothing but an old, faded sweatshirt and some sweatpants, he looked like a vision sculpted by the Seven. “Oh? And what might that be?”

“Me, of course,” he said smugly, leaning down to kiss you again. You let out a few whimpers as you felt his hands slowly sliding up your dress, creeping up your thighs…into your panties.

“Oh!’ you gasped out, as Aemond found the spot between your wet folds. He grinned devilishly, “Already wet for me, hmm?” You rolled your eyes at him, groaning as he teased your wet slit with the pad of his finger. “Just shut up already.’

Aemond wiggled his eyebrows mischievously, “Why don’t you make me?’ You blinked, not quite comprehending his point. “I want you to sit on my face while I eat your wet little cunt,” he delineated bluntly, looking at you hungrily. “It’s a victory for you, no? You get your pussy eaten out, and shut me up at the same time. Hell, if I wasn’t so eager for a taste of your pussy, I would’ve grumbled at the unfairness of it.”

You stared at him incredulously, but you felt the slow rise of arousal in your abdomen as he continued looking at you challengingly whilst teasing your folds, and you decided, why the hell not? “Game on, Targaryen.”

He grinned, putting his finger in his mouth and groaning as he tasted your essence. You clamped your legs a little tighter at the sight. “You taste so fucking good already. I can’t wait to feel your cunt on my mouth.” Deft fingers helped you out of your gown, and you tossed it away carelessly, moving to take off your underwear. Aemond’s eye trailed over your naked form shamelessly, and he planted a soft kiss on your neck. “Beautiful.” he murmured. You felt your cheeks heat up, but decided to sass him a little. “Well, are we going to wait here all day, or?” Aemond grinned, a handsome, wicked expression that made your stomach do flips. “Definitely not. I need to taste you now.”

He laid back on his pillows, gesturing at you. “Come here. Now.” You swallowed, crawling towards him, angling your cunt to his face. “Don’t suffocate or anything, okay?” You quipped as a joke, but Aemond only smirked. “No promises, sweetheart.”

He pulled your hips down towards him, and you let out a pleasured gasp as his tongue flicked across your clit. Moaning, you dug your nails into the wooden headboard of his bed, writhing and shaking slightly as Aemond devoured your pussy. When he pressed the tip of his nose up your slit, you let out a mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You rode Aemond’s face eagerly, as he pleasured you without much regard for his own safety. A few times, you were so concerned that Aemond had not come up for air in so long that you tried to move your hips off his face, only for him to firmly grip you by the hips and pull you back down again. With Aemond’s insistent licking and sucking, you felt a coil beginning to form in your stomach. “Oh, god, I’m cumming, Aemond-” you moaned, but your moan was cut off when Aemond lifted you off his face, smirking at you smugly with his face coated in your juices. “Why’d you stop?” you whined, pouting.

Aemond chuckled. Oh, you were just so adorable sometimes. “Because I want your first time cumming with me to be on my cock,” Aemond explained, looking eerily calm, like he hadn’t just nearly drove you to climax with his tongue. “On your hands and knees.”

You gave him a scolding look, but Aemond only repeated himself, sterner this time. “Now, princess.” The nickname earned a shiver from you, and you found yourself obeying, shifting on your hands and knees. You heard Aemond dispose of his own clothing, and your legs quivered in anticipation as he came up behind you.

He chuckled darkly, landing a few gentle spanks on your ass. “Gods, this ass is magnificent. I’m going to have to spank it someday.” You had to bite back a moan as he leaned over you, whispering sweetly into your ear. His other hand wandered to your chest, pinching and then rubbing your sensitive, hardened buds, releasing a shaky, shuddering moan from you. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? Having my hands all over this perfect ass of yours? Leaving red handprints over it? Hmm?”

You nearly choked on your saliva as you fought to answer, “Yes, daddy.” He groaned, smacking your ass lightly for a few more times. “Good fucking girl,” he punctuated each word with such raw intensity it made your cunt ache for him. Oh, how you craved him.

As if he could read your mind, Aemond began to enter you, groaning as he did. Inch by inch, he sunk in, watching his cock disappear inside your warm, wet folds. “Gods, you are so fucking tight,” he swore, his hands gently going around to pinch your nipples. You yipped, which brought a smile to his face. How could someone be so perfect?

Your legs were quivering at this point, and you were barely hanging on by a thread as Aemond sunk into you slowly, reaching places so deep and so pleasurable. You moaned, just how big was he?

“All in, princess,” he whispered affectionately, stroking your hair gently. “You okay?” “Yeah…” your voice was slightly raspy from the pleasure. “Good.” Aemond kissed down your spine gently, making goosebumps rise up on your skin. “Do you want it hard and fast, or slow and gentle?”

Biting your lip, you managed to stutter out, “Slow, please. Need to get used to you.” Aemond smiled, hands trailing down your abdomen. “Anything you want, princess.”

Then, Aemond began to move, and the world dissolved into a fuzzy nothingness as he did. He was so careful, taking his time with you, thrusting so deep inside you it elicited the most delicious, deep sighs and moans from you. “Oh…that’s the spot,” you murmured as Aemond’s cock hit your g-spot, making you see stars. Aemond chuckled darkly, one hand moving to play with your hardened nipples, watching as you arched your back into him. “I’m going to go faster now, alright, princess?” he murmured, the other hand soothingly trailing down your spine. You barely managed to gasp out the words “yes” before Aemond began to thrust harder and faster in you, hips ramming into yours as his cock stroked the most sensitive spots inside of you.

You moaned, panting needily as he did, feeling your ruined orgasm beginning to creep up again. “Aemond, am gonna come-” A guttural moan torn from Aemond’s throat as he heard that, his hands moving to flip you over as his movements slowed. “No.” He nearly snarled, turning you around to face him. “You come looking at my face, princess. Understood?”

You nodded, too desperate for your orgasm to object, as Aemond wrung moan after moan out of your pliant body, mouth kissing and biting everywhere on your neck and shoulders, leaving his marks all over you. He groaned as he began laving his attention on your perky tits again, mouth sucking at them harshly, teeth grazing over the nub. You shut your eyes, too lost in the pleasure as Aemond continued pounding into you, gripping your hips tightly.

“Eyes open, darling, or I won’t let you come,” Aemond’s rough sounding command made your eyes snap open, and he grinned roguishly as he saw your eyes fixed on his face. “Atta girl. Are you close?”

You nodded, pleading, “Please let me come, Aemond. Can’t last much longer…”

“I know, darling. I know,” Aemond groaned, leaning in to kiss you again. “You’re just a needy little slut for me, aren’t you?” You nodded frantically, anything to make him let you cum. He chuckled, “Thought so. It’s alright though, daddy likes needy little sluts like you, so long as they’re obedient. You’re a good girl, aren’t you, princess?”

“Yes, yes, I am,” you cried out, hands moving to grip at the sheets tightly. “Oh god, I’m going to come, I’m coming-”

Aemond’s fingers moved downwards, and his thumb rubbed over your clit, coaxing you towards your orgasm. With a loud cry, you came all over Aemond, eyes squeezing shut in unadulterated pleasure. Aemond’s thrusts didn’t slow a bit, as he chased his own high, groaning. “Do you want me to come inside, or…”

“I’m on the pill, don’t worry,” you reassured him, looking up at him, smoothing his white-blonde locks back from his forehead. He looked like an angel, all sweaty, his expression filled with pleasure and hunger and affection as he looked down at you. An angel of lust.

Aemond moaned at that, feeling his dick twitch before he spilled inside of you, hands going to grip at the headboard tightly, as he rode out his orgasm.

Aemond collapsed onto the bed next to you, taking you into his arms. “I should probably get you cleaned up,” he murmured softly, “But I just want to be selfish for a while, and cuddle with you a bit. That okay?” You nodded, leaning your head onto his chest. A content sigh burst from your lips. “More than okay. We can just shower together later, anyway.”

Aemond hummed in approval at your proposal, kissing your forehead gently. The both of you stayed in each other’s arms for a while, basking in the afterglow of sex and in each other’s company.

“Hey, princess?”

“Hmm?”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Aemond.”

Aemond General Taglist: @aiyaiy @sylas-the-grim @darylandbethfanforever9 @hc-geralt-23 @hb8301 @omgsuperstarg @justrybca

those usernames who are bolded means you could not be tagged! let me know if you wish to be added to the general taglist for Aemond related works or just my works in general in the comments below or through this form! :)

thank you for reading! if you liked it, likes, comments and reblogs are always highly appreciated! merry late xmas guys 😘🎄

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pilotispunk · 1 year

Text

jealousy, jealousy (joel miller x f! reader)

Masterlist | Kofi

Summary: Joel is jealous that you're on patrol duty with your ex, even if he claims he isn't. You find a way to show him that you're his and only his in the bedroom.

Rating: 18+ explicit

Content: this is some straight up filth guys. implied age gap, jealous! joel, jackson, explicit smut, explicit dirty talk, unprotected sex (p in v), mentions of anal, liiiight anal play, creampie, oral sex, fingering, riding

Word Count: 3.1K

I'm back, y'all. I know it's been a minute but I've been busy with work and getting back into school. I have loads of ideas and WIPs I'm working on and though it's not ofc required, I would appreciate if you could show some love for me through buying me a Kofi so I can continue to write while I've also got school and work going on. Love you guys!!! Happy hoeing!!

“You’re sure it doesn’t bother you?”

You can’t remember how many times you’d asked him at this point. You knew Joel was a man of few words but sometimes many expressions.

When you were paired with your arrogant ex boyfriend to patrol the perimeter on Saturday morning for the first time, you could’ve sworn you heard a puff of annoyance come out of his mouth but when you questioned him about it all he could say was “Nothin’.”

And at first it didn’t bother him.

He knew with you being younger and having more time in Jackson, your experiences shifted between the two of you. While he had more memories of the world before this one, you had more experience.

Before you was Tess, and before that he was so focused on being a father that he can’t remember the last time he was with a woman before then. But it didn’t matter. When the two of you got together, sparks flew.

Things settled into a calm Joel didn’t think he deserved. Nights with you, Ellie, Tommy and Maria, a family he didn’t picture ever having again but now a family he couldn’t live without.

He also loved what happened when everybody left at night and it was just the two of you. His thick fingers rubbed against your swollen clit. His broad shoulders kissed at your ankles when he positioned himself on top of you, ready to enter you in a teasing, tantalizing way. The way you bit into his shoulder when you wanted to scream but didn’t want to wake the neighbors.

He knew the two of you had a great thing going. You were in love. So why was he so damn intimidated by some arrogant little shit? You and Max apparently didn’t date for long, telling Joel his “personality got in the way of anything serious.” That didn’t stop the asshole from trying to show off whenever you passed his way.

So the idea of the two of you alone and secluded with nothing but time didn’t exactly appease him. And here the two of you were, at dinner the night before the shift and you could see the clicks in Joel’s jaw that weren’t just from trying to chew his chili.

“Joel.” You insisted. He looked up from his food, finally. Trying to appear stoic, but you knew he was faltering.

“You’re not mad?” You tested. He rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Why would I be?” There he goes, back into the damn chili.

“Joel.”

“Okay, okay. If I had any problems, it’s just that Max seems a little…peppery.” Joel said to you.

“Peppery? Joel, our chili is peppery. You can just say Max is an asshole.”

“Alright, alright.” He holds his hands up in defeat. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. Just the idea of the two of you out there by yourselves isn’t the most appealing.”

“Well, well, well.” You tease. “Joel Miller finally admits he’s jealous.”

“But I trust you. Just be safe out there tomorrow night. Get some rest.”

“I can’t get some rest at your place?” You bat your eyes at him. Normally, if one of you is patrolling early in the morning you have a rule of not spending the night. You figured tonight could be an exception.

“Come on over, then.” Joel smirked at you, breaking his tough exterior. There he is.

“I’ll go home and pack a bag.” You got up after finishing your chili, pecking your lips on his cheek and headed home to pack an overnight bag.

—----------------------

Joel finished the rest of his dinner by himself, Ellie and Tommy stopping by his table before going on their way. They could both tell something was bothering Joel and it hated that it was bothering him.

He still didn’t entirely understand what you saw in him. When you’d first gotten together he was almost too truthful of his past, what he did to survive, his journey with Ellie, the lies that drifted them apart until they were brought back together. But all you could do when he told you his story was wrap your gentle arms around him and thank God he survived.

Now was the part where he got to actually live instead of just surviving. He forgot about petty things and petty feelings like jealousy and how they can arise.

“You two having fun?”

Joel zoned out from his trance of thinking about you. Max slid into the seat you previously were, his bowl of chili still full, his eyebrows raised playfully at Joel. “Saw the patrol sheet, got your girl with me.”

Max always called men by their name and women as the “girl” of the person they were with. Joel quickly corrected him by saying your name.

“Whatever. She’s an interesting one, isn’t she? No hard feelings, man.”

This little shit can’t be serious. Joel thought to himself.

“Meaning?” Joel gruffed.

Max scooped into his bowl of chili, a heaping of meat on the spoon, he bit onto the metal and let out a theatrical moan. Not grandiose enough for people to look around and question, but the insinuation was enough to make Joel’s blood run hot.

“Quite the performance, huh?” He winks at Joel. Joel gets up with his food, his feigned laughter keeping Max confident enough to keep laughing and nudging at Joel. Joel grabs at his shoulder, tight enough for his nails to dig in.

“You make any kind of jokes like that tomorrow or ever again and you won’t have any legs to mount yourself on that god damn horse. Understood?”

Max meekly shook his head, causing Joel to dig his palm deeper into his shoulder blade.

“Yes?” He asked.

“Yes.” Max peeped out.

“Good. Now keep her and keep this town safe tomorrow.” Joel roughly released his shoulder, walking back to his home without a look back.

—---------------------------

The walk to Joel’s was always a peaceful one in the quiet calm of Jackson but tonight you couldn’t help but think about your conversation during dinner. Joel had nothing to worry about when it came to anyone else but if he had an ex that was even here you supposed you didn’t love the idea of them being alone and secluded together for a few hours.

“Hi!” You cheerily entered Joel’s house. You looked around to see if there was any sign of him, a knife on the counter and whittled wood; a guitar strewn around. But nothing.

You tip toed upstairs and heard water running. Joel always made the sweet gesture to draw you a bath whenever you came over, sometimes he’d strum the guitar above you or come in for his own fun. You saw him bent over the tub, sprinkling picked flowers into the water and felt yourself in awe of this man you loved.

“Am I interrupting something?” You quipped. Joel worked his way up from his knees and walked over to greet you with a deep kiss, lips warm and rough from a long day.

“Just wantin’ to make sure you’re nice and comfortable.” He grins, his lips down your neck as you tilt to invite him in further. He kisses near the spot of your clavicle that drives you crazy, peeling off your clothes piece by piece. Taking his time.

You didn’t realize Joel had moved you to the bed until you felt your back hit his sheets. His dakr eyes were focused on you as he moved down your stomach, planting soft kisses down your body until he stopped at your open legs.

You watch intently as he places his middle finger along your wet core. His pointer finger added to spread your folds to have you completely vulnerable in front of him. You looked down to see his soft brown eyes, meeting yours to gesture questioning. To make sure this is what you really wanted and you wouldn’t turn around and leave him.

You moved your hips to encourage him and he slips his middle finger fully inside of you, just one finger thick enough to still make you clench.

“Oh fuck.” Your breath hitches. “Keep going, Joel. Please.”

“Yes ma’am.” He adds his thumb to circle your clit, going in small circles, already panting out for release. Joel continued thrusting his fingers inside of you, positioning himself above you. That sweet vulnerability was gone and his eyes were darkened with lust.

His fingers shallowly thrusted inside of you while he planted kisses across your jaw, watching you as you panted and clenched from under him. The pressure was getting to be too much and you knew you couldn’t handle much more.

Joel positioned his finger deeper, bottoming out as he added two more fingers and thrusted fast. The sound of your wetness filled the room and he laid on top of you as he continued to work. You couldn’t take anymore, your lip biting at his shoulder.

Joel stopped so abruptly you were concerned something was wrong. You heard him pant in your ear so softly that you almost thought he fell asleep.

“Is everything okay?” You whispered. He sat himself up at the edge of the bed, avoiding your eyes.

“I’m sorry honey I just…I thought it was something else.”

“You thought my teeth were something else?” You repeated his words slowly, wanting to give him the grace to make up a better lie. He sat in silence for a moment..

“That idiot kid Max said somethin’ and I can’t get it out of my head. You’ve always done that with different guys?” Joel asked.

“Sometimes.” You shrugged, positioning yourself up to face him. You saw the cogs in his brain work, his eyes dejected.

“Joel, you seriously think you’re the same as Max?” You asked. “What the hell did he say to you? Do you want me to ask Tommy and Maria to get someone else to patrol with him tomorrow?”

“No, no, shit no.” The only thing Joel could think of that would be more embarrassing than what just happened would be telling his brother and sister-in-law that he didn’t want his girlfriend patrolling with his ex like a couple of high schoolers.

“Christ, I can’t believe I’m sayin’ this shit.” He turns to face you. “I just want what we have to be different.”

“It is.” You’re even more confused than before, how could he not realize that what you had was different? “I don’t want this to be some sort of stupid ego thing just because I do something in bed.”

“The prick just decided to let me know in a very vocal way.” Joel decided to tell you about what hat happened over dinner. You felt your face redden with embarrassment and your knuckles whiten from gripping the sheets in anger. This situation is exactly why you knew you deserved more than someone like Max.

“I’m so sorry he said that. God, that is so mortifying.” Now you couldn’t look at him. You felt his fingers tip your chin up as he gave you a gentle kiss.

“Baby, it’s not mortyfing that you do that. God knows I enjoy it I just…”

“Listen, I know you don’t like to go into full detail with your past. About Tess. About any women before. I know it had been a while for you and that it’s not easy living near the men I’ve been with. But I can tell you with full honesty that nobody can make me feel the way that you do.”

Joel rests his hand on your knee and looks at you through eyes crinkled with joy. “I know.”

“As far as the biting, I guess it’s just a habit.” You lower your voice. “But I can tell you right now that nobody has ever touched me the way that you have.”

“Is that so?” Joel huffs back. You move to position yourself on top of him, wrapping your hands in his peppered hair.

“You don’t want your bathwater to get cold.” Joel retorts, his hands moving down your back and onto the globes of your ass.

“We’ll draw a new one.” You grin. “Don’t you want me to show you how different you make me feel from anyone that’s ever gotten to touch me?”

He palms your ass as you grind into him, frustrated that he’s still clothed.

“Christ, woman.” Joel groans. You nip gently at his jaw, grinding your hips in slow circles already able to feel him from his jeans.

“Take this off.” You order, looking down at his shirt. You help him undo his buttons and throw it on the floor next to the bed. He grips your back and flips you over, laying you back on the bed and getting up to remove his pants and boxers. He was already hard for you as he made his way back to between your legs.

“I can’t just leave you like that, can I?” Joel’s eyes were blown with lust as he rubbed his thumb back onto your clit. “You’re so fuckin’ wet.”

“All for you, Joel.” You feel him tease his finger on your folds, not quite entering you just yet. “Please let me fuck your fingers.”

He enters several fingers into you, hooking them in that familiar spot that makes you gasp and arch. You’re already so close again and you can’t help but find a rhythm on his fingers.

“That’s right.” He growls. “Fuck my fingers, let me feel that pretty little pussy.”

It doesn’t take but a few moments for you to cum around his fingers, writing on the bed while he groaned under you. He tries to take the moment to grab you but you move from under him, motioning him to sit on the bed.

You take your time putting his heavy cock in your mouth, teasing it across your lips, your jaw and your breasts. You taste his salty precum as you suck on his tip and look up at Joel who’s staring down at you in awe.

“Do you think I could make you cum like this?” You ask him mischievously, knowing the anticipation is building and all you both wanted was to feel him inside of you. You lick up his shaft, his eyes never leaving you and he makes noises in complete bliss. You suck again at his tip, hard while you look up at him innocently.

When you take him in your mouth in full he lets out a long sigh. You can’t fit him entirely in your mouth, his tip already meeting the back of your throat. You try to work him down but what you can’t handle from your gag reflex you give shallow strokes.

You release his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, strings of spit still bonding you. “Has anyone ever made you cum like this? Can I make you cum with your cock all the way down my throat?”

You put him in your mouth again for a few more minutes, moving fast and entering him deeper down your throat. You feel Joel’s hand shaking as it cradles the back of your head.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Wait.” Joel pants. You stop, feigning innocence as you lick your fingers with your eyes still on him.

“Get back on top, pretty girl.” Joel whispers, his hand caressing your cheek. A welcomed tender moment in the middle of your desperate filth.

“Why don’t you show me how different I make you feel.” His eyes darken. You position yourself back on top of him, straddling him with your legs wide as you sink onto his cock. You bounced on your toes a few times, each time taking him deeper until he was fully inside of you.

The two of you take a moment, arms wrapped around each other as you breathed heavily, trying not to cum instantly with the way he was filling you up. You broke away from the embrace, looking down at Joel and his dark brown eyes. You saw that vulnerability again. Somehow you knew that even though he’d done this before with other women had he ever opened up like this? Even just with a look?

You placed your hand on his broad chest and started to move, finding your pace as you felt his cock hit spots you couldn’t reach. His hands cupped your ass helping guide you.

“Do you feel how different you are now?” You whispered to him, riding him so he could enter you deep at each thrust. “Do you feel how fucking good you make me feel? How this is your pussy and nobody else’s?”

Joel fucks you harder, digging his fingers harder into your ass, spreading you out so he could thrust upwards. His fingers get closer to your ass, finding him starting to finger around the tight ring of your asshole.

“Has anyone ever fucked here, pretty girl?” He grunted. You shook your head, unable to talk just wanting to focus on how full his cock made you.

“Nobody.” You said through gritted teeth. “It’s all yours. I want you to.”

“Not tonight but soon.” Joel pants, not sure how much he could take now that he knew he had the privilege of fucking your ass. “Gonna fuck every part of you and make it mine.”

“Fuck, Joel. Don’t stop.” You whined, your fingers digging into his skin.

“Gonna cum for me, sweet girl? Cum all over my cock.” Joel said. You rode him to a fast pace and when he took one of his thumbs to rub your clit as you rode him you came hard. Your pussy clenched his cock with a hard grip.

“Fuck.” Joel rests his head on your forehead as he spills inside of you, releasing his warmth and bucking up until he has nothing left.

He leans back onto the bed, bringing you with him as you position yourself to laying your head on his chest. The two of you laid in silence, your heavy breathing filling the air and his arms surrounding you.

“I think that wore me out for the night. I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to wake up early tomorrow morning.” You pant.

“I did good?” Joel kissed your forehead.

“That’s an understatement.” You looked up at him, planting a soft kiss on his lips. You looked long and hard at the man you loved. Sure, he’s got a dark past, he could be stubborn and he could attempt to put a wall up, but you knew he was the best man you’ve ever known despite it all. There was nobody else you would rather be with and nowhere else you’d rather be.

“So what you’re saying is it’s not too late to cancel patrol with that prick?” Joel muttered.

You playfully elbowed his ribs. Joel pulled you in tighter as you embraced him.

“Oh hush.” You giggled. “Now come and take a bath with me.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice.

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syeren · 5 months

Text

“How they would comfort you” — JJK MEN HEADCANNONS.

GENRE: Fluff, mix of comedic comfort, overall comforting auras <3

________

GOJO

gojo is so unserious please

if we’re talking about teenage!gojo, good luck.

atp you gotta help yourself with your own comfort because HE would do anything and everything to make you one of two things:

angry or trying to be angry at him but end up laughing

“Please?”

“No.”

“C’mooon—“

“I said no.”

Gojo lets out a huff in annoyance, mimicking the same movement as a child as he juts out his lower lip. “You’re no fun.”

You gave him a look, a look of pure disbelief and awe as your own boyfriend was throwing a tantrum. During your shift at work, it was obviously not the best. With customers blazing in with drink orders that stacked to the bottom of the sticker, spill-mishaps, and that bitchy manager of yours… You opted to vent to Gojo in hopes to ease your mind. Well… You had hope, atleast.

“I’m literally having the shittiest day and you—“

He cut you off, widening his eyes largely while staring into the depths of your soul. You had stopped talking as you also stared him down, not wanting to back off from the silent fight of eye contact. Copying him, you too enlarged your eyes with tears threatening to prick themselves close.

“What are you doing?” You asked him, still holding the eye contact. Without blinking, Gojo responded back in a monotonous manner.

“Looking.”

“For what?”

“I dunno.”

“You’re hopeless.”

The fight continued on, seconds passing as both of your eyes reddened from the lack of moisture. The air felt chillier, and any gust of air that passed both of your pupils would be deadly to this competition. You swore silently you wouldn’t lose this battle, and intensified your gaze with your eyebrows furrowed. Upon doing that, however, the sight of Gojo’s unblinking eyes and silent tears rolling down his cheeks was definitely a sight to see. You stifled a laugh, not wanting to ruin your opportunity to win until you let it out. Your shoulders shook as you giggled loudly within the bedroom, wiping the tears away as Gojo returned the same enthusiasm.

“W-Why the… Just why?” You asked, still heavily confused about the whole eye contact competition, but finding it ultimately amusing. You calmed yourself down, letting out the occasional breathless chuckle.

“I would rather you let out happy tears than sad ones. So, turns out I won anyway.”

“Fuck you.”

________

NANAMI

the BEST comforter, hands down

tbh i’ll say this honestly rn,,, i wasn’t a big nanami fan previously but even i would tell this man would be sooooo great at making you feel better

puts YOU firsthand, no objections

if you end up objecting tho, then he will take matters into his own hands

“I can take care of myself, y’know?” you stated firmly, trying to push off Nanami’s strong grasp around your arms. The man in question simply heard you cough once, and deemed it as a sign of you getting sick.

He let out a gruff sigh, not responding to you with words but through his actions, hoisting you up easily by your thighs and carrying you to his king-sized bed.

“One cough and you think this is the end of the world!”

“That one cough can end up making you think that the world is ending for you,” he retorted back, placing his hands on his hips as he finally situated you onto his bed; the plush duvet covers instantly swallowing you whole.

“You always think you can handle yourself,” he continued, pulling the duvet covers up and gently lifting your head from the pillow, fluffing it up a bit before placing you back down. “If you really want to try and take care of yourself, I will not dismiss that… However…”

He crouched down beside the bed, balancing on his haunches as he smiled softly at your tired expression.

“… At least let me aid you a tiny bit, love.”

________

MEGUMI

this hoe istg

hoe in a loving way by the way, pls don’t track me down

BUT! since this boy is SO nonchalant and passive, however he has that certain side to him that makes him so welcoming and warm. it’s charming, to say the least.

it’s like he knows you and your quirks so well that you didn’t even notice them at first

You and Megumi were walking hand in hand down the busy street of Tokyo, Harajuku, in hopes of finding the cute café you were eyeing a couple weeks back. You were astounded, of course, but Megumi was getting a little antsy of not being able to locate the café you had your sights upon.

“We’ve been walking for ages,” he sighed, matching his pace beside you through the busy streets. You gave him a look before flipping your attention back to the map on your phone, staring hard at the complicated details provided.

“No wait— Ahh! Maybe we take a left over here?” you said, turning abruptly which caused Megumi to be swallowed by the crowd. You whiplashed your head to the side to locate him, but to no avail, he was gone from your side.

A slight rise of anxiety started to bubble up in your chest until warm, slender fingers laced around your own. Peering up, you saw your boyfriend instantly by your side once more, leading you through the crowd wordlessly. Never once did he loosen his grip, it was firm and gentle. A tiny squeeze of his hand alerted you to look at him again, to which a little smile was plastered on his face.

“Hurry up. I found the café you were trying to find.”

You didn’t notice the same café’s address was in his phone’s search bar, though.

________

YUJI

LORDDDDDDD

golden retriever boyfriend right here

so undeniably understanding and prioritizing to your needs, no wonder he looks up to nanami a lot

i feel like he’d be the type of boyfriend who would go through a spontaneous, yet step-by-step routine to pamper you

You were over at Yuji’s house, unwinding and relaxing while playing on his PC. Well, trying to unwind and relax, but the stupid game you wanted to try out wasn’t going so well.

“Fuck!” you screamed out, running your fingers through your hair and tugging at your scalp. “I got the same character pull again!”

Yuji peeked over at the screen, apparently this game had a gacha system implemented in it. Certain number of pulls have a higher chance of a guaranteed character, but you weren’t so lucky.

“There’s no hope…” You groaned out, slumping back in your chair as Yuji inches closer to the screen. He eyes the character displayed on it, annoyingly mocking your very state.

“Can I try?” he asks with a wide, toothy smile.

You huffed out a sigh, glancing over back to the screen briefly before back at him. “I only have like… One pull left, but knock yourself out.”

He excitedly moves his body closer, instantly clicking on the character banner you were trying to get and watched the pretty hues of blues and yellows swirl around. Tiny sparkles littered the blackened screen, before—

“Is this a good character?”

Huh? You adjusted your torso once more and sat up to look at the screen to see the desired game character you’ve been wanting to get. This entire time, now gotten from the lucky hands of Yuji.

“Huh?!” you exclaimed loudly, eyes wide at the sight before you. There was no way that he pulled the character you were ogling over— One you spent your hard earned in-game currency on as well as losing every single time.

“I’m guessing he’s good! Judging that reaction of yours—“

“Fuck off,” you said with a distasteful tone, but a wide smile playing on your lips.

________

an; so basic but so cute 🫶

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader

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thegnomelord · 6 months

Note

Soap and #12 with cismale reader. I was thinking they have mutual feelings for each other but not in a relationship yet, and some obliviousness mixed in for drama lol

Sure mate, though it ended up more drama than oblivious idiots in love lol. Play the game HERE.

Prompt: "What, did you think all those times I kissed you were for shits and giggles?" "Let's be real, you had a lot of fun shoving your tongue down my throat in public."

CW:NSFW, Sub Soap, Top male reader, back alley sex, semi-public sex, mild fighting, miscommunication, Soap being a jealous hoe(again)

You and Soap have a . . . thing. You're not quite sure what to call it; You're just comrades, friends, who go out for drinks after every mission and end up messily making out in the back of a bar only to get kicked out when you two inevitably get frisky and near an indecent exposure charge. But it's fine, because it gives you the excuse to go to base and fuck on the bed, or the floor, or the table, or against the wall, or any other semi-flat surface.

But you're just friends. . . or, that's what tell yourself every time your heart pitifully clenches in your chest when Soap smiles, when he laughs and pats your shoulder, when he moans your name so sweetly as you pound into him, when he looks at you as if his world starts and ends with you; because what would a bloke like Soap want with you other than sex? So you try to drown the ache for him by going out with other people, but it's never the same— not in the way they sound, in the way they move, in the way you feel.

Johnny, on the other hand, thinks you're his and his alone.

"I'm telling yea lads," Johnny says as he knocks back a beer, a lovey dovey look in his eyes like he's a lovesick puppy. "Ah've locked him down this time." He grins, and Ghost swears if he has to listen one more time about how big your cock is or how Johnny can still feel you from last time— he'll shoot you both.

"Uhuh," Gaz rolls his eyes, amused at his antics but also happy that he's finally found someone. "Yeah, su-" Something catches Gaz's eyes and he turns his head, the color draining from his face. "-ummmm."

Ghost's eyes quickly flicker over to where he's looking, "Look at that," Ghost gives a rough snort, "Locked your man down so good he's swappin' spit without you."

Soap's immediately sober as a nun, his neck audibly cracking when he swings around to look at you. The sight of you making out with a random girl across the bar has Soap's thoughts turning in his head like rusted cogs, the world almost slowing down to force him to feel all the emotions his brain spits out; Surprise comes first, like being drenched in ice cold water, disgust making his blood feel like tar at the thought of you touching someone else the same way you touch him, hot anger barreling straight through it to make fingers twitch for the trigger of a gun.

But it's the meek hurt that forces his legs to move, striding across the bar like he's on a war path. A rough hand on your shoulder makes you break off the kiss, your world spinning like a kaleidoscope from the booze and sudden force turning you around. Your eyes finally settle on familiar blue ones, but they're cold like the deepest part of the arctic. "Johnny?" You ask.

His name on your lips only makes his scowl deeper, a bruising grip on your arm as he tugs you, "We need tae talk," He spits, glaring at the poor girl you'd been making out with like she's riddled with plague.

You're not given even a second to argue before he's yanking you out the back exit into the alley between the bar and another building. A second later he's roughly slamming you into the brick wall, knocking the breath out of your lungs with a forearm against your throat and ignoring as you choke softly. "Thae fock's wrong wit' yea!" He snarls into your face, more animal than man.

Rapidly depleting oxygen forces your brain to flood your veins with adrenaline and suddenly you're moving, harshly elbowing him in the stomach and ramming him into the stone wall behind him you swear the rock cracks. "Me? What's wrong with you?"

He tries to push against you, your arms scrambling for a solid hold until you end up in a stand still, "What's wrong-" He shoves his face into yours, nearly breaking your nose while hissing like a feral cat, "-is thaet ye're shacking up with some tramp."

"So what!" You demand, a low grunt leaving your lips as you attempt to keep him pinned when he squirms like an eel, "We're just casual-" You force out those words, trying to ignore the stab to the chest your heart gives.

"Casual?" He scoffs and with a swift jerk of his head smashes his skull into yours. You stumble away, black spots dancing in your vision and that's all he needs to grab and switch your positions, pinning you to the wall. "What? D'yea think all those times I kissed you were for shits and giggles?" He demands, a bit of a traitorous hurt making his his voice crack, face pinched in pain.

"Let's be real-" Copper and iron invade your tastebuds, drawing attention to the slow stream of blood trickling from your nose, "-you had a lot of fun shoving your tongue down my throat in public."

You feel his body tense, but keep your eyes open as you expect him to punch you, to kick you, to do something to prove what you have is just temporary; pointless bliss.

"Then how'bout ah give yea a clearer message-" He leans in to lick trail of blood on your face before capturing your lips in a kiss that's more teeth than anything else. You wretch your hand free to tangle your fingers in his short hair, bodies fitting together like jigsaw pieces, reciprocating with just as much intensity as you bite his bottom lip until his blood floods your mouths. "Got it through yer thick skull now?" He asks, pulling back just a bit to stare into your eyes.

You don't know what 'it' is, but the kiss and the roughness makes heat burn through your veins, one quick flicker of your eyes confirming he's sporting the same problem in his pants as you are. "Think I'll need more convincing."

Soap yelps when you turn him around, pinning his chest to the cold wall as your hands slide down to his belt. You stall for a second to give him a way out, but he just growls, "Get on with it," So you quickly undo his pants, shoving his jeans and boxers just down beneath the swell of his arse.

"Slut," You chuckle when you catch sight of the black plug nestled between his cheeks, the skin near it still glistening with lube from how messily he'd prepped himself, "Needed me so bad did you?" You ask as you pull the plug out, putting it into your pocket as you push the head of your cock against his fluttering opening.

"'s cause ah love yea, fockin' git." He growls, his words making your brain crash.

"Repeat that," You say, softer, kinder than you usually operate, pressing against him until you're covering his back completely. "Say that again."

He notices your change, the ice in his eyes melting away enough to let him tug your head closer to kiss you, "I love you." The way he says it, like a prayer, like a sweet caress, has your heart melting into a puddle. A dingy back alley shouldn't be the place where you confess your love, but right now it feels like Paris.

"Love you too," You kiss him back and slide into him in one slow stroke, greedily swallowing down his sounds. You let him adjust before setting a hard pace like you know he loves, cock head scraping against his prostate with every thrust. "Really, really love you." You breathe out, watching his eyes lose focus as he lets out little 'ah, ah, ah's every time your hips meet.

"Bonnie, bonnie lad please-" He whines, resting his face against the dirty wall as he moans without shame, forgetting that anyone could walk in on you two and more than likely hear you across the single layer brick wall. "Fock, c'mon, give it to me."

"Yeah, gonna take care of you-" Your hand slides down to rub his cock, squeezing his base every time you bottom out and playing with his head when you draw your hips back so you can plunge back inside him, lust and love lighting up every synapse in your body. "Just say you love me again."

Johnny's eyes close as he falls into a barely comprehensible rambling of 'love you, love you, love you', his body shaking with a building heat in his stomach, precum rapidly lubing the glide of your hand as you fuck him in a harsh pace until with a sharp yell against his shoulder you cum inside him, Johnny following suit as he paints the dirty wall white with his cum.

You feel him collapse against you and have just enough strength left to support you both, though the wall does the brunt of the work. You breathe the same air as you try to get your bearings, both hearts beating in the same speed and rhythm, and Johnny whines when you attempt to shift, hole clenching greedily around you like his body doesn't want you to seperate.

"You know," You say when you've managed to catch your breath, nuzzling into the back of his neck, "There are easier ways to say you love me without biting my head off." You chuckle, as if your heart isn't beating a thousand miles per hour at the knowledge Soap loves you.

He swats at your head, "Oh awa' an bile yer heid." He growls such harsh words before kissing you softly, sharing a silent promise with you.

#cod mw2 #Gnome's prompt game #x reader #gnome correspondence #trinkets from the hoard #male reader #top male reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #sub john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x male reader #I am slowly dying with how many of ya'll are playing this game O_O #But seriously ya'll are wonderful #and I love and cherish every member of the gnome army

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