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#but I thought maybe I should post something with clothes this time
busymagpie · 1 year
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It's Hanguang June! And happy pride month!
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sonknuxadow · 3 months
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"having a sibling isn't specific enough" "almost everyone only wears one pair of shoes :/" please you have to understand that the whole joke of the poll is that its about sonic the hedgehog . and that it was written to have the most normal and widely relatable options at the top and get weirder/more specific the further you read
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citrineghost · 7 months
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I think about this a lot...
I just want you all to know, even if you don't see any people in your area with pronoun pins or bright, queer clothing, or with clockable traits, there's a very good chance you're surrounded by queer people who are blending in with the cishets. You're not alone.
Ever since I've started passing, I've had this repeated thought... I'll be in a public place and I'll see someone who's almost definitely queer, and it makes my day, but then I wonder, do they see me? Do they know I'm here? Do they understand that I'm one of them?
To be passing is what a lot of trans people see as the end goal, but, if you're not trying to be stealth but simply not going out of your way to display that you're queer, it can come with a profound sense of sudden exclusion - like you're too passing to count anymore, or like you'll be unrecognizable to your queer siblings
So, for everyone's benefit, I just want to say, remember that there are those of us who don't stand out. Don't assume every person that you don't clock as trans is cis. Don't assume every person that you don't clock as gay is straight. We speak out against cisheteronormativity, but to protect ourselves and remain in the safe bubble of those we expect to be safe for ourselves, we are often times perpetuating it
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Me painting today: “man, I’m doing so well in keeping my workplace clean”
*I reach for the plastic knife I use as a mixer to wipe some of the excess white paint off to make sure i don’t make this mix too pale.*
*I drop the knife onto my desk*
*Some paint splatters, but I look around and don’t see all that much to wipe up*
“Even with that mistake I’m doing so well!”
*thirty seconds later I reach back to adjust my hair and I freeze.*
*I pull my fingers back*
*They are teal*
“This is what the kids in theater call a comedy of errors”
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lovebugism · 4 months
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“you were outside for one minute, how can you be dying of hypothermia?” with Steve and ditsy reader🥹
ty for requesting! — you walk in the freezing cold to ask steve if he would still love you if you were a worm (ditzy!fem!r, established relationship, 1.6k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Your arrival is marked, first, by an ignored knock. 
Steve’s lazing on his couch, heavy with post-work exhaustion, with his resident schmuck slouched at his side. Robin acknowledges the tapping at his door before he does. “You gonna get that?” she mumbles, mostly uncaring and partly distracted by the TV.
Steve shrugs, unblinking. “It’s probably just a package or something.”
“Or maybe it’s your girlfriend,” she retorts, voice dripping with sarcasm as she turns to him with wide ocean eyes. “Remember her?”
Steve scoffs. “She said she wasn’t coming over today… Why do you think you’re here?”
Robin would punch him in the shoulder if she wasn’t so tired. “Asshole,” she mutters under her breath.
Another knock echoes down the foyer. This time, followed by a voice — muffled and achingly familiar. “Can somebody let me in before I die out here?” 
Steve jumps off the couch without thinking, filled suddenly with newfound life and distant horror. He vaguely hears Robin mumble “told ya” as he rushes to the door. 
He wrenches it open with an iron grip around the knob. He’s smacked in the face by the bitter breeze waiting on the other side. Snow falls from heavy clouds, swirling with freezing wind, and you’re standing out in the middle of it all.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” Steve blurts. Not because he’s unhappy to see you, but because it’s basically a tundra outside, and you’ve got on the thinnest jacket he’s ever seen.
Your brows pinch as your face swirls something pitiful. Eyes wide and glassy, you blink snowflakes from your lashes. “Dying of hypothermia,” you murmur into your knit scarf, shrinking into your crossed arms.
Steve manages a small laugh. “Okay, you were outside for one minute. You’re not dying of anything— now get in here before you freeze.” He ushers you in with a warm hand pressed against the small of your back. “And I meant, what are you doing here? You said you were staying home ‘cause of the snow.
“I had a very important question to ask you,” you insist while he helps you peel off your jacket and scarf. Crystalline flakes fall from the fabric and onto the hardwood, melting almost instantly.
He hangs both on the rack for you. “You walked half a mile in the snow to ask me a question? Why didn’t you just call?”
“‘Cause it’s too important— I had to see you first.”
Your pout is childlike and firm. Steve concedes with a nod. “Okay. Well, uh— Robin’s here. Is that okay?”
You’re beaming almost instantly, forgetting about the boy entirely as you duck past him and down the entrance hall. You find Robin slumped on his sofa, still in her Family Video vest because unbuttoning it was too much work. Her bitten lips curl into a smile at the sight of you, the ball of sunshine Steve’s trying to tame.
“Are you guys having a sleepover?” you ask, all giddy at the thought.
She leans her elbows along the back of the couch and shrugs. “Well, we were. But since you’re here, I’m thinking we should just kick Stevie out.”
“Yeah. No. Not happening,” Steve deadpans as he appears behind you. He guides you towards the stairs with a warm arm around your shoulder. “C’mon— Let’s go.”
You pout. “Wait. Where are we going?”
“To get you some fresh clothes. I just got a load outta the dryer— Remember when you said you were freezing?”
“I’m past freezing, Stevie. I’m dying.” You groan and lean much of your body weight into the boy beside you. He laughs and carries it no problem.
“I’ll warm you up. You’ll be okay.”
He gets you into his bedroom and starts taking off your clothes. “At least take me out to dinner first,” you quip in a tiny voice as he pulls your sweater up and over your head. He scoffs and replaces it with a sweatshirt. Hissweatshirt. From the laundry basket full of fresh clothes he hasn’t folded yet. Then he sets you on the edge of his bed and tugs your jeans down your thighs, only to put a warm pair of baggy sweatpants over them again.
There’s something distinctly domestic, you think, about someone taking off your clothes only to put fresh ones on you again.
And then, even though he knows you’re perfectly fine, Steve cuddles with you under the sheets of his bed for a moment. He says it’s to help you warm up faster — “‘cause you were dying, remember?” But really, he’d just missed you. In a very simple, human way. And it feels good to hold you to his chest like this.
“Feel better?” he asks, filling the silence of his bedroom, chin bobbing against your head.
“I feel more alive now. If that’s what you’re asking,” you answer.
“Less than an icicle?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, you’re the cutest damn icicle I’ve ever seen—” He pulls just far enough way to see your face, smiling when he finds you grimacing at his dumb attempt at flirting. He plants a chaste kiss on your pouted mouth. A low smack fills the bedroom. You’re beaming all over again when he’s gone.
“What was your question again?”
Mouth still sparkling with longing, your face swirls with confusion. “Huh?”
“You said you came over to ask me something.”
“Oh, yeah!” you shout, wiggling out of his hold to face him more. You grow suddenly serious — as serious as a person like you can be, anyway. You talk wildly with your hands as you ramble. “Well, I was at the trailer earlier, and I was talking to Eddie, and I’m pretty sure he was high—”
“Figures,” Steve scoffs.
“—‘Cause outta nowhere he was like, ‘Would you still love me if I was a worm?’ And I was like, ‘Yeah. Obviously. I mean, I’d be sad about it and everything, but I’d still take you everywhere with me.’”
“He might be easier to tolerate that way,” he jokes, pink lips curled into a small smile.
You don’t seem to hear it.
“And then I thought— ‘Oh my god, what about Steve? Like, would he still wanna be my boyfriend if some evil witch turned me into a worm?’ And it really freaked me out, and Eddie was zero help, and then I got so sick about it that I had to come over here and ask you.”
You don’t take a single breath until you’ve vomited all the words out.
Steve — equal parts impressed and worried by you — nods slowly and with wide honey eyes. He calculates carefully what to say, lest the wrong thing spill from his mouth and send you spiraling all over again. “Okay… Well… For starts, yes, I would still love you.”
He swears you breathe a sigh of relief then.
“But like… Can I ask why you got turned into a worm?” he wonders with pinched brows.
“The optics don’t matter,” you insist girlishly.
“Right. Well. Can the evil witch-woman turn me into a worm, too? Or is that against the rules?”
Your doe eyes begin to sparkle, wide and full of hope. “You’d wanna be a worm with me?” you wonder in a tiny voice, distant with disbelief.
Steve scoffs. “Of course, I would. I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere without you.”
You knock the breath from his lungs when you lurch suddenly forward. Chest against chest, your arms wrench tight around his neck. He’s stunned for one moment, then hugging you back the very next. His wide palms rest warm along your spine. He manages a laugh despite being halfway strangled.
“I mean, think about it. I could spend the rest of my life hugging you like this if we were a couple of worms.”
“Well, you’re gonna do that anyway,” you quip, muffled into his neck.
Steve hums. “Touché.”
You pull away from him after a moment or more, serious all over again. There’s a firm furrow to the center of your brow and an unsmiling glint in your eye. “We have to set ground rules, though. Just in case.”
“Of course,” the boy concurs, fighting back a smile.
“If I get turned into a worm, and you couldn’t be one with me, what would you do?”
“Like… If I wake up and there’s just… A worm on your pillow?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs, face pinching ‘cause he’s really thinking hard. “I’d be really sad.”
“But what would you do with me?”
“I’d get you a tank or something. Or, like, a little necklace to put you in— so I can carry you around everywhere.” He figures that’s the most perfect solution to this wildly unlikely situation, given the risk he couldn’t be there with you. Then your pout deepens, and he second guesses. “Is that okay?”
He can’t believe he’s entertaining this at all, really, but you’re worrying’s got him stressed about it, too.
“I want you to hold me in your hand,” you tell him, quiet and sincere.
Steve nods. “Deal.”
“…And hold me at eye level at all times.”
He laughs before he can stop it. “Sure.”
You start to smile, but don’t let yourself. “But how would you find me?”
“If you got turned into a worm?”
You nod, slow like a sheepish child. “How would you know which worm was me?”
“I’d find you,” he insists.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Steve scoffs with a shrug, mostly uncaring because the idea of finding you has never worried him before. There isn’t a world where the two of you aren’t together. Even in the infiniteness of time and all its parallel existences, Steve thinks you’ve found each other in every single one. 
“I’d always find you. In every universe,” he assures, wearing a crooked smile on his lips when he boops the tip of your nose with his finger. “And out of every worm.”
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morosis-haze · 11 months
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Bakugou slowly moving you into his apartment
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!black reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: a curse word I believe that’s it
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❒ Bakugou who doesn’t really want to admit it, but he’s been getting used to your presence on those days you come over to the point he wants you to stay the night
❒ Bakugou who was asking or coming up with excuses on why you shouldn’t leave “There’s a few more episodes til we finish the season” You might as well stay on the couch cuddled up with him only a few more episodes until you could leave, right?
❒ It was all a plan leading to the “It’s late you should stay over tonight” He says it like he didn’t have you stay at his place until it was pitch black. How could you argue it was normal to not want your girlfriend out late there were a bunch of dangerous things that lurked the night, even if you’re also a pro hero who could defend yourself fine until you get home
❒ Bakugou who heard you talk about how multiple mornings and nights he is ruining your routine so he gets stuff you need
❒ It started small with him buying another toothbrush paired with a cover on it, it stood next to his in the cup. If you ask about it he’ll only say “So? You’re over here so damn much complaining about not having a toothbrush.” He acts as if you’re the one inviting yourself over
❒ “Maybe I’ll come over less.. y’know actually sleep in my apartment” You see his gaze flicker for a second before he grunts out “Well that’s not needed anymore” he moves onto a different topic ignoring the teasing smile on your face
❒ Bakugou kept slowly trying to move you in never mentioning it to you. He’d rather not deal with you being smug. That wasn’t gonna help though.
❒ Next time you come over to Bakugou's apartment you smell the scent of your favorite candle that said man had previously complained about when he was at your place “I thought you hated this scent” he looks at you as if he doesn’t know what you’re talking about “What scent?” You point to the recently burned-out candle “It grew on me” he rolls his eyes seeing you smile about it, but you can see the slight pull of one on his face
❒ You were both coming from a party a class 1a reunion if you will though there seems to be plenty of those as the students all got close over the years. Bakugou was the one who picked you up and was gonna drop you off home though he had different plans.
❒ You were busy about to post pictures of Mina and you along with the rest of the girls when you finally look up onto the road “Isn’t this the way to your apartment?” You glance at him as he continues “ ’m too tired to notice… you wanna just sleepover?”
❒ Maybe he really was tired and used to all the times of you staying over it was becoming an instinct. You were able to see the weary expression on his face and you didn’t wanna make him turn back around to drop you home so you’ll stay over…again
❒ Used to all the nights over here you go into one of his drawers planning on wearing something of his own but you notice everything in it is different it’s not a lot, but there were now a few clothes in your size and there were three bonnets in different colors and patterns
❒ “Katsuki are you changing your style?” He goes into his room raising an eyebrow at your question “You know I didn’t really take you for the bonnet kinda guy, especially one of this color but you do.” You picked up a patterned one a smug look on your face
❒ He huffs electing to ignore your comment too tired to be bothered he mutters “It’s for you” before he goes back into the bathroom letting you change in his room
❒ You get done changing and head to the bathroom knocking on the door before being allowed in you brush your teeth alongside him as you both finish up he nods to something on the counter you didn’t notice it was your favorite cleanser
❒ You both continue with your routines before heading to bed he seems to have a small smile on his face maybe because you aren’t complaining or seeing you look even slightly happier from his actions improved his mood
❒ The weeks continue you stay a little longer in the morning and you’re not as reluctant on staying the night. Bakugou gets more things for you, anything to make you more comfortable so maybe you could stay longer than last time
❒ Your favorite snacks were in his pantry, a duplicate of your lotion next to his so you no longer use up your travel-sized bottle from your purse, but what you weren’t expecting is the new silk pillowcases
❒ Bakugou may have overheard Mina talking about her new pillowcases and how they’re so amazing, as he listened it sounded like it could benefit you so he looked into it
❒ Sure he could’ve just given them to you for your own bedroom, but he used them in his even though the purpose of them being here is for you
❒ “I can’t tell if you’re getting bougie or if you genuinely wanted silk pillowcases..” you joked looking at the man as he climbed into his bed with you “They’re good for your hair and shit” “Good for my hair… you got silk pillowcases because of me?” He doesn’t look at you as he answers “There are other benefits it’s not just cause of you...”
❒ There goes a smug expression returning back to your face “Careful I might just stay here forever, Katsuki” You give him his goodnight kiss before laying down as he turns off the lights you hear him say “Maybe that’s what I want”
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𝐀/𝐍: Back from the hiatus I’ll be redoing my taglist so if you want to join it fill out this form
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deepmochi · 4 months
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SYNASTRY: Venus in the houses (7th-12th) part 2
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
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Note: Honestly, I had a draft for the 2nd part, but probably I deleted by mistake, or tumblr did it (idk). Maybe, That's why I thought I already posted the 2nd part, but I was wrong.
Part 1 🩷
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♡ Venus in the 7th house ♡
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These couple usually views commitment as all or nothing, are you in or not? They have strong values about true love, and they will follow them. Love is viewed as a contract by their souls or hearts. If they break any aspect proposed, they know it's the end. They can be reflections of themselves either the good or the bad. When the contract is done, it's over. The Venusian sees the house person as a very stable being. They feel safe and prepared for them. These two may live together before the year of knowing each other romantically. The pair just feel ready when it's about commitment. The house natives perceive the Venusian as very "wife/husband" material for them. With this overlay, their personalities blend well and work together. It feels natural for both of you to be close and intimate together. For others is moving too fast, and for them is easy to become intimate with each other. The seventh house person fits well for the planet native. These two feel like it's a soulmate connection, very easy. You’re both drawn to please each other. It's a very strong connection for long-term relationships. It takes time for them to move on if they ever break up. If Venus has bad aspects, it can be a toxic relationship. The reason for this, it's that they prefer to stay together instead of being alone or start something new. Intimate gesture like hugs and someone hand guiding the other. Cooking dates and going out at night the most. "Here, I bought this?";morning texts: " how are you today? My day...." "Can I call you, I miss your voice"; " My mom ask if we can go to her party?" ; "we should go to that restaurant"; Formal clothes; "hey, look me, they don't know how worthy you are". They like to spend time with people they love. Balance. If Venus cooks today, the house will do it tomorrow. Wearing nice clothes and a good perfume to impress the other. Compliments and physical touches, especially kisses in the cheek. Cheesy things like love letters. Having "the song" or the place.
♡ Venus in the 8th house ♡
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These two have a different kind of love. The Venusian feels like the house person bring something in them that they can explain. Sometimes, these people have taboos to share. Death has impact their lives. The house person may become obssess with the planet person. Sex isn't a way emerger together. Usually, they possess the same interest in taboo topics. In the beginning, Venus feels attracted to the house, but it's also scared of them. Their sexual energy is intense. The 8th house person wants to know the Venusian's secrets and fears. Both are possessive, but the house win the round. They detest when their partner don't respect them. Their relationship status will remain a secret for the public eye (in the beginning). They would share many things even traumas (if hardly aspected). The house native will protect the Planet from the world. Sex can be very intimate or aggressive (bsdm stuff). These people will not be the same they were when they met. For them, love is intense and transformational. The house feels that the Venus native is trustworthy, but they need to see their actions. Holding hands during intimate times. During sex they will talk and have intense stares. "I don't like that person, be aware of them", "Here, use this for yourself"; "if you need money, just let me know"; "don't lie to me, I know you are sad"; his/her hand on your thing while eyes are on the road; taking notes of your gestures. They have weird hobbies together and enjoy dark humor too. Moonlight sex and long sessions.
♡ Venus in the 9th house♡
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These individuals perceive love as a new adventure and try to go with the flow. If they're mature, they prefer to maintain a very healthy relationship. Both prefer to travel and know about new places and cultures. Love is not as other say. They may prefer to do things their way. Venusian isn't instantly involve, but they see the house as interesting. For the house native, the planet is nice an attractive, but they will not force things. The house native could be older than the Venusian. The house person likes the planet manners and life vision the most. They see the commitment as an experience. Sometimes, marriage isn't obligatory requirement. They may enjoy walks, museum, and play board games. One could be from another country or have a different culture. Their relationship presents a new chapter in their lives and their families. Besides, they like to engage in intellectual debates, maybe they are into philosophy. If they broke up, they will try to be professional or move on. They can meet later in life after maturing. It's likely that you will work together or in the same environment. Having a child or more is possible, so use protection. "Look at here, we can travel here"; "aww, baby, you were right they declare that"; ["I really want to buy that book" / "baby, you have that book already"]; Saving for vacations; buying esch other souvenirs or antique objects as gifts; reading books and doing a small debates about it; *knowing each other during trips, universities, conferences, cultural events, and religious activities" Buying new editions of books. Love to try new foods or learn about new places together. They could meet while traveling or in college.
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♡ Venus in the 10th house♡
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Coworkers to lover vibes. They are comfy with being mature. Similarly to the previous combo, the house partner is the older one or has more experience. This partner also has more dominant energy. They could meet in different levels. The negative aspect is that they could be very nitpicking and too logical when it comes to love. The planet individual sees the house person as straightforward and mature. Partnership is very important is like a contract. If one of the part broke a part of the deal, it's done. They can work together or met during their carrer path (college, conference). They are straightforward and mature when approaching the other. If badly aspect, it could have a power imbalance (not good). Big egos over emotions, this is the start of arguments. They plan their dates. The planet person accepts that the house individual cares for their image and professional life. The Venusian isn't afraid of being a home stayed wife. Here the Venusian knows and appreciates the house efforts to balance their stability. Nonetheless, the house person must value the venusian support. Doing plans after they leave the work; caring for the other in profesional settings; making food or leaving notes in the stuff *you can do it* in their computer. Making each other feel valuable "Here, i make you favorite food"; let's celebrate your new position"; *making time to luch together*; naming the other whenever they can "I'm grateful for my wife meals and support"; giving gifts and showing their s/o in public. Even thought people think they aren't super romantic, they will try to match things. It could be rings, watches or wearing the same brand. Looking good.
♡ Venus in the 11th house♡
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Love depicts a friend to lover storyline where both care for dreams and humanity. It's very possible that they met when they were helping other people. The Venusian fits the house' s ideal type. They seem more friendlier than other couples. You wouldn't think they were dating. They prefer to joke around, but they love each other. The Venusian share the dreams the house native have for life. It's also likely that they like each other in the future, even if they met since birth. They prefer to have experience with love before settling down. Its common to see them as "I thought they were friends". The Venusian see the house person as humanitarian and very interesting. Stay protected because big family can be a thing. The must clarify about what is a family for both. The house perceives the planet native as beautiful and too much to some people. Together, they will form a very unique pair and family. Regardless Venusian feel the planet as hopeful person. The eleventh house person sees a future with the venusian because they feel understood. Love for the house is independent, and the venusian can see this as as a relief. Making fun of the other in a non hurtful way. "I can't deal with you right now *kiss them*"; "Alexa play Celine one" *grabs the venusian; *hugs their s/o when they're cooking*; being romantic when they're alone; sending spicy texts "come home, I'm ready"; talking about the future; matching devices or wallpapers; a lot of trust, they share passwords. Having the same or similar friends. They like to help. Donating for other people as a hobby or helping to people who need. Dates in the nature. Cleaning beaches, rivers or places.
♡ Venus in the 12th house♡
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Love is simple but blurry. They can't get confused in how they love. The house sees the Venusian see them as the real deal. The planet perceive the house native as too good for them. There are some blurry aspects that they don't understand. When this synastry happens, it can feel too blurry for outsiders. Sometimes, they feel as friends and others as partners. At times, they hide their feelings without realizing or because they don't want to hurt the other. The house may hide their crush for the planet (too well). The Venus feel like the house person hides things for them. The house native don't want to bother the venusian. The house wants to give all they have to the venusian without having a concrete reason (maybe they are friends, but they are their #1 friend). This connection feel very special even divinely guided. The house is very observant with the Venusian Different backgrounds, it's possible that the house person has faith or not. One (usually the venusian) is more intuitive. Venus comes to open the house's eyes to other knowledge. The house will do all they can, so the venusian is happy. They can be soulmates (even non platonic). On the negative side, they don't have good communication because they avoid confronting each other. Both have experience paranormal activity, but only one believes more. The Venus person will try to invite the house to their home (pure opening of their soul). The Venusian can be quite delulu, but the house see it as funny. They met when something is ending for the Venusian. Romantic times, home dates, asking the other about thing carefully, a special vibe around them. *Big smiles and shiny eyes*, "I buy you this; you tell me two months ago around 9pm" "aww thank you", "are you sleeping well?" - "yes" , *astrology or tarot talks* "can you give your birth time?" - "12:34 am" " it was bad?" "No, we match". Talk about paranormal activities like any other topic, special dates, random celebrations, secret spots, discreet dates, spirtual conection, they may understand the other, but can't explain it.
Take what resonates only. 💚
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mrsbarnesblog · 5 months
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Mattheo Riddle headcanons
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Summary: what is it like dating Mattheo
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: fluff, no mention of y/n, you can be in any house, spicy content under the warning
Author’s note: For all my Bucky fanfic readers, I'm sorry that I haven’t posted in almost a month. This December is just too overwhelming, and every time I tried to finish my fic, it felt like I was wasting my time. I literally just miss the ending, and I hope to finish it as soon as possible.
For my possible new followers and/or HP stans, Mattheo is my current obsession, and I’m literally head over heels for him. And you know what they say: if you can’t find a fanfic that you like, write it yourself. So yeah, I'm trying something new, and I have a few ideas that are poisoning my head every single minute lmao.
sorry if there are any mistakes. hope you’ll like it💘🎀
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Mattheo was never that much of a playboy because he didn’t like to share his space and, well, communicate with people in general
Due to his family, he was really reserved and refused to be weak
You weren’t that popular in school, so he had never really noticed you but one day, you suddenly started hanging out with Pansy and he could not get you out of his head anymore
He hated it
He hated that you occupied all of his thoughts for at least a few weeks 
Tried to ignore his feelings for you as long as possible, but from the moment you two had to work together on the project, everything went downhill 
He was scared to ask you out, not ready to be rejected by the only person he genuinely liked and thinking that maybe you secretly hated him like everyone else
At the beginning of the relationship, Mattheo told you that sometimes he might get cold and distant, but it wasn’t your fault and that you should just give him some time 
Mattheo is romantic and for his favorite girl, he always arranged the best dates
He was nervous to kiss you after the first date when he walked you to your dorm
Little did he know, but that sexy smirk and the way he looked at you all night drove you insane
So you just pulled him by the tie, connecting your lips
Since then, Mattheo has been addicted to you
Hands are always on you, holding your hand, your waist or your thighs
Looks at you as if you hung the moon and the stars
He kisses you in front of everyone to make sure that they know that you are his, and he is yours
Likes to pull into into his lap while he’s talking with his friends in the common room
Holding you close, slowly strokes your arms or your back, unable to keep his hands away from you
Whispers sweet nothings
Loves your smell and always buries his nose into your hair
He wears rings and allows you to steal them
His hoodies and t-shirts too
Secretly likes to be little spoon or lay on your chest while your hands are playing with his curls
Buys you everything you might possibly like, even though you always tell him to stop spending his money on you
Likes to study with you because you can actually get ready for the lessons while he has another opportunity to stare at you 
So overprotective and always snaps back at people who, even in the slightest way, disrespect you
He never lets you go to the parties alone in case some creepy guys decide to hit on you
Possesive
When you’re wearing revealing clothes, one part of him is proud and wants to brag that his girlfriend is the sexiest woman on the planet, but the other part wants to cover you with big blanket and keep you to himself
Always sarcastic and sassy
Fights a lot 
He had never gone to the medical wing because he wasn’t used to asking for help, but since you started dating, he let you heal his wound 
Loves when you scold him for those fights, just because you look so cute when you’re angry and he has an excuse to kiss and spoil you 
He has anger issues, but he has never raised his voice at you
Actually, you are like a sedative to him because only you can calm him down in a matter of seconds 
Will never make you feel uncomfortable or insecure
You don’t like something or someone? Mattheo will make sure to get you out of the room and won’t let that person come near you ever again
The way you call him “Matty” turns him into a literal puddle
Can’t sleep without you in his arms
spicy
During your first time, he was super attentive and always checked whether you were okay or not
Praises. A lot of fucking praises
“You’re taking me so good, my love”, “you look so pretty when you cum around me.” 
He likes every position, but prefers when he can see your face
There is literally not a single place in his dorm where you two haven’t had sex
Gets turned on literally by everything you do
He’s risky. As soon as he finds out that you actually liked it, he always teases you under the table, pulls you into the storage rooms, and talks dirty while there are a lot of people around
Got you two in detention a few times for getting caught kissing at night by Snape (you were lucky that he caught you before Mattheo’s hands slipped under your skirt)
His personal favorite is sex in the astronomy tower. The way you’re trying to hold back your moans drives him crazy
Also bathtub in the prefects’ bathroom, where you love to sit with him deep inside of you  
He usually dominates, but sometimes likes to let you be in charge and see how you ride him
He has a big appetite, and what is the best way to deal with it? Right, you.
Mattheo would’ve spent hours in between your legs if you allowed him
He never asks for anything in return, but still seeing you on your knees for him is a fucking miracle
Your hair are around his hand, while you’re taking as much of him in your mouth as you can
Eye contact
He’s willing to try in bed anything that you want, except things that might get you hurt
He likes to keep his hand on your neck while he’s thrusting into you but never actually squeezes
Can be rough and fast or really gentle and slow, depending on the mood
After someone pisses him off or if you had a small fight, he always fucks you into the bed with your hands pinned above you until you’re literally crying from pleasure
By the way, when you don’t have time to put a spell on the room, it gives him satisfaction to know that everyone hears the way you moan for him
He always makes sure that you came, and if you didn’t, he’s more than happy to go down on you
Love confessions 
Aftercare is a must
Hugs, kisses, food, baths—anything you might want
He always keeps you close until you fall asleep and then just stares at you, wondering how he could be so happy to have you  
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g0niki · 4 months
Text
taste tester── y.jw p.js
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pairing: bf!jungwon x reader x jay
word count: 1.9k
contents: no protection (wrap it up 😓), oral (m&f receiving), light pussy slapping, finger sucking, slight exhibitionism, light size kink, jw is a little mean🫶
a/n: I haven't written in a long time and quite literally wrote this at 3am, feedback and comments would be appreciated! i am very nervous to post this.
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jungwon had jokingly mentioned having a threesome with jay on multiple occasions before, and every time without fail you had said no… but at this moment you were reconsidering.
jay's in the kitchen cooking up something for you and won since you're the only ones home at the moment, won showering and leaving you to watch jay with a focused pout resting on his face as he cuts up the meat and throws it to a bowl on the side. 
you never really understood what your boyfriend saw in jay, sure they were close but he wasn’t all that... 
ok, jay was all that, he is all that. the way his hands moved as he worked on the meal was making you feel some kind of way, your thighs slightly rubbing under the table imagining him holding you down so firmly and having you squirming... so maybe you wanted jay to join... just once though!
you wouldn't even have to tell won, coming out of the bathroom hair wet and clothes hanging off his body loosely, jungwon isn't an idiot,
jungwon can immediately tell just what you're thinking by observing you from afar, knowing that you're having conflicting thoughts at the moment, he'd come up from behind you and wrap his arms around you, kissing your neck and speaking into it 
"feeling hungry pretty?"
the pet name alone was enough to let you know exactly where his mind is, gulping down at his tone. he'd place one last kiss on your throat, sitting down next to you and lightly patting his lap, definitely up to no good. 
"cmere I’m cold" he'd use a pouty voice,, to anyone else it would seem like he's being his usual clingy self but this alone was enough to make your mouth dry. you could never say no to sitting on your boyfriend’s lap though, immediately scooting over and sitting on top of him, he'd wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder, pulling you back against him.
"look pretty, isn't jay hyung so nice to us" oh you were fucked "should we watch him cook?"
won pushing your hair behind your ear and lightly biting on it causing you to push your hips back on him.
"be quiet, wouldn’t wanna break his focus" You can hear the fake pout in his voice, feeling his hands massage your thighs as he now kisses your shoulder, letting his tongue trace against the bare skin and lightly sucking now and then.
"look at him, trying to do us a favor yet all you can do is squeeze your pretty little thighs shut and stare. it's rude to not help."
you wanted to bang your head on the table in front of you,, won being so close to touching you over your shorts yet continuously teasing you right behind jay's back. 
"jay's missing out on the best entrée right here." finally, won's hand is lightly tracing your clit. your thighs squeezing around his hand desperately and a small sound leaving your throat, his glancing over his shoulder to check on you.
"sorry.. hit my knee"
"be careful,, dinners almost done"
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
needless to say, that was the quietest dinner you had ever experienced, thighs sticking together as you picked at your plate. jay watching you with an eyebrow arched up, he knew you were picky but you usually loved it whenever he cooked.
"something wrong?" 
his voice slightly makes you jump, unable to even look at him in the moment.
"yeah, what's wrong pretty?"
and of course, jungwon had to play dumb, you could see the smile he was biting back and as much as you wanted to be upset with him he was so badly turning you on.
"nothing just-" and before you could finish your sentence won's hand is back against your thigh, tracing shapes against it "nothing." 
jay leaves it at that.. picking up his plate and walking over to the sink still just as confused as a moment ago but not willing to press any further.
"actually, y/n had a question for you hyung!"
you had never wanted to strangle your boyfriend more than right now.
watching as jay turned around and fondly stared at the two of you.
"yeah, what's up?"
you were out of words, staring with your mouth open not able to play off the situation.
"tell him, baby, you know what we talked about, ask him."
jungwon pushed you closer to the topic, a smile on his face as his hand continued to brush against your thigh, usually, this would be comforting but in this moment your heart was sinking, and you were throbbing.
“y/n, you can ask me anything you know"
and hearing jay be so ready to cater to you was almost enough to get a sob to leave the back of your throat.
"ask him pretty, or i will." the small smile on won's face was enough to send shivers down your spine, goosebumps coming up all over.
"jay... would you want to help us out.." and gosh you felt like you could hear your voice quivering as you asked, you had never been more nervous than right now. 
"... with?"
"don't play dumb hyung. I can see you holding back right now."
your stomach sank. won definitely knew a lot more than he let on, you had never heard him be so harsh towards jay before and it was leaving you soaking. 
"just look at her hyung, look at how she needs you, how badly she wants us."
hearing won talk about you like you weren't even there was honestly a bit overwhelming, you could feel your face and ears getting how wanting to do nothing but hide behind your hands and forget this was even happening. 
"let her say it won, talk to me y/n."
you were going to have to swallow your pride for this one…
"could you fuck me.."
"look at me when you're talking. ask again."
"could you fuck me." and that was all the two of them needed to hear. 
within minutes they had you back in the room, clothes nowhere to be found as you were pressed up between the two of them.
"isn't she so pretty hyung,"
won was behind you holding your legs open and letting jay enjoy the view, jay twisting your nipples and watching how the light touch caused the puddle between your legs to grow even more.
"you weren't kidding when you said she was sensitive."  
hearing the brief mention that jungwon had discussed you with jay before sending your mind into a spiral. laying back as won moved from behind you and onto the chair next to the bed. 
"why don't you put it in hyung, i wanna watch."
you'd never seen won like this before, he looked almost ravenous, his mouth almost watering as he watched. you couldn't take your eyes off of him, taken aback by his current state.
"you too pretty, watch while he puts it in." 
won's hand coming behind your head and forcing you to look down on yourself. jay lining up with your folds and cursing out above you.
"she looks so small, you sure she can take it?"
"even if she can't she will."
and that was enough for jay to push into you, the slight stretch making you bite down on your lip, he wasn't very different from won in size but he was thicker. won's hand holding your own as you both watched jay sink inside you.
"look at that pretty," and god did jay feel good inside you. his hands gripping your hips tightly and pushing them down into the mattress as he took a deep breath.
Won” fuck i'm gonna break her won." 
"do it, she likes it" 
won gently pushing your hair out of your face, moving around so that he was now above your head. 
"don't you pretty?"
you had your eyes pressed together tightly, entirely overwhelmed by everything, and won's dick standing above your head was not helping in any sort of way. 
"you think you could multi-task.”
you couldn’t even answer at this point, jay roughly thrusting into you and using you like a toy, rambling on about how good you feel and he could've never imagined being able to be inside you.
won now holding both your wrists and watching as jay pounded into you, your release dripping all around him and your back fighting to arch against jay's push on your hips.
"pretty open for me before i make him stop."
the idea of jay stopping now was enough to make you sob, jaw immediately falling slack for won. 
"there we go,"
won immediately filling your throat and admiring the slight bulge he made in your throat.
"look hyung, everything about her is just sooo small" jay reached up to trace the bump in your throat causing you to clench around him.
"fuck don't do that i'll cum" jay moved his hand from your neck to slap down on your clit and making your body jolt. won hadn't done that before but you'd be asking him to do it again.
won wrapping his hands around your throat and fucking into you is all too much, you rapidly clenched around jay cumming for who knows what time and causing jay to fill you up with no warning.
"shit, my bad-"
jay pulled out watching his fluid seep out, using his fingers to scoop some up and bring it to his lips.
"fuck won you've gotta taste this."
won pulled out leaving you to whine,  but you quickly shut up after seeing him take jay's two fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling back at the taste of the two of you.
"fuck, it’s missing something.” 
won immediately moving to take jay's previous spot between your legs and quickly shoving himself into you, not taking your sensitivity into mind, his only objective being to fill you up even more. 
jay moved down to your stomach and worked his way up, finding his nipple in your mouth and sucking around it while his right hand fondled the other.
you could’ve sworn won was using all his strength on you, your body bouncing up and down as you tried to take even just a second to breathe, fighting to not scream. your hand coming up to jay's head and pulling onto his hair causing him to bite down on your tit.
"be nice,” he growled between his teeth.
jay pulls back to admire his work and watches jungwon finish the two of you off, taking himself into his hand in hopes of finishing himself off another time. 
"jay you better hurry up because i'm almost done."
won bringing his hand down to play with your clit in hopes of finishing you off alongside him, his thrust getting shallow and sporadic yet doing just enough to have you spilling around him, the noises leaving your throat being enough for jay to finish all over your abdomen and won filling you up nicely.
won pulling out slowly trying not to overstimulate you even more than you already are, lowering his face down to your cunt and licking up as much as he can.
he pulls you into a kiss, swapping the fluid between your mouths as jay watches with his jaw agape. 
pulling apart breathless 
"mm, tastes much better."
ᯓ★
@g0niki all rights reserved. do not translate or post my work anywhere without permission.
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forgeofthenine · 6 months
Note
Omg in the last few posts you were talking about heat as in temperature but my brain registered it as something COMPLETELY different and it got me thinking…
What if tieflings had some kind of a heat cycle and they get extra sensitive and desperate because of it?? I can imagine Zevlor and Rolan being super embarrassed or nervous to bring it up, maybe Dammon’s more chill about it but still extra needy
So, this has absolutely been a passing thought in my mind and as soon as this request came in I knew I just had to push it to the front of my request queue, purely for my own mental health lol
Gotta admit, I'm a fan of omegaverse dynamics and I actually looked a little into irl animal biology and mating behaviour to get a better feel for what I think tieflings would be the most like. So this has both general headcanons and some NSFW headcanons for the individual bachelors
You probably didn't expect quite this much (over a thousand words of tief content) when requesting but this had me in a chokehold, I hope everyone enjoys <3
TW: NSFW under the cut, very heavy breeding kink, overstimulation, alpha/omega adjacent dynamics
Tiefling NSFW heat and rut headcanons
General
So, I feel like once all tiefs reach sexual maturity they'll start to either have heats or ruts, depending on their biology
Anyone with female biology will have a heat, and I feel like they'd have heats similar to cats but with a slightly longer time between heats
So generally they'd have a heat every two to three months or so unless they're pregnant or have other health issues
For the ones with male biology they'd definitely have a rut
They'd follow similar patterns to the women, but it's not unusual for some tieflings to have longer stretches between their ruts if they don't have a partner
A single tiefling that isn't particularly sexually active might only go into rut once or twice a year
I do think a male tiefling could prematurely go into rut if exposed to a females heat, and couples that have been together for a while will sync up
They have pretty typical heat and rut behaviours with nesting, possessiveness, and a pretty undeniable breeding kink
Nesting, possessiveness, and general mood shifts tend to start setting in during pre-heats and pre-ruts
Pre-heats and pre-ruts can last two to five days, and a full heat and rut can last anywhere from two days to a full week depending on the individual
In saying that, having a partner can definitely shorten both heats and ruts, so single tieflings working through things by themselves will have longer heats or ruts
Heats and ruts can also become more painful the longer they go on without the relief of a sexual partner
Tieflings can tell when others are in heat and rut mostly through pheromones, but a female tieflings tail will also involuntarily lift when she's in pre-heat/heat and around a male
I wonder if I should go so far as to headcanon that they have knots, I did already give them all ridged dicks
Dammon
If you and Dammon aren't dating then he'll be much more shy about his ruts
He basically disappears from his forge and the public for a few days and then comes back as if nothing happened
Once you start dating him is when you find out why he pulls the disappearing act
Dammon is actually very open about it now you're both together and have already been intimate
Blushes slightly while trying to explain some of the more physical, primal aspects
Would flush even more if you tell him you find the whole thing incredibly attractive
The next time he has his rut, you're the only person allowed to see him, and he really is a sight
Naked and tangled in his sheets, all flushed and tense, undeniably hard as he palms himself while looking over at you
Even the way he strips you of your clothing is different, he just about rips it off you as he kisses and nips down your neck and chest
While Dammon is usually one to take his time with making you feel good when he's in rut the only thing on his mind is getting to cum
Though even in his hazy mind frame he still makes sure you're comfortable the whole time
Even a near sex crazed and highly hormonal Dammon is still a very caring partner
You know he's going to bend you in half as he fucks you, he just loves how good you look underneath him like that
Breeding kink go brrrr
This man always fucks like he's trying to breed you but it's off the charts when he's in rut
I hope you're ready to be fucked within an inch of your life because his refractory period ceases to exist
Absolutely watches as he pulls out of you and some of him cum leaks out because he's stuffed you so full
Dammon praises you so well too, you can not shut up this man and his dirty talk
"That's it gorgeous, you take my cock so well."
"You gonna make me a daddy, darling? 'm gonna knock you up, full you up with my cum."
Once his rut dies down enough, he'll scoop you up for a bath
There is no way you could stand after the way this man just wrecked you-
Dammon takes very good care of you, and then you do it all again the next day
Zevlor
Whether you're dating Zevlor or not, he's your personal wealth of knowledge on everything tiefling
So what do you do when a book you read mentions 'the times of year and conditions unique to tieflings' and doesn't explain it?
You go and find your favourite paladin
Zevlor is so embarrassed, dating or not, explaining to you how tiefling heats and ruts work
Can't even keep his eyes on you
When you two are dating and you realise you didn't see him at all yesterday, it's time to go hunting for the man
You have an idea of what might be going on but nothing prepares you for what you find
Much like Dammon, you find him tangled in his bed sheets desperately trying to get himself off
He lets out the sexiest groan when he sees you standing there
He's the gentlest of the three while working through his rut
Even then, Zevlor is noticeably rougher with you than usual
Has you in a missionary position, his whole body pressed to yours as he pants in your ear and thrusts into you
Zevlor can't keep his hands off you when he's in rut, they're all over your hips and chest and giving light tugs to your hair
He gives into the primal need to mark you too, it's the only time he'll give you hickeys
Breeding kink: the sequel
Absolutely tells you he's going to breed you, and fucks you like he means it
Doesn't even think as he uses his hands and tail to spread your legs so he can fuck you deeper
Zevlor loves to look at the way you tremble every time he fills you with cum, using his fingers to help you get off at the same time
Even while he's trying to find his own relief, he makes sure to make you cum so many times you end up overstimulated and about to cry from the pleasure
Definitely has you cockwarm him as the two of rest, the thought of you keeping his seed so deep in you until it takes just gets him going again
You'll know he's ready for another round when Zevlor starts grinding himself into you again
When the worst of his rut is over he gives you the best massages
Apologises so profusely too the first few times you help him through his rut, even if you tell him how much you like it
Rolan
There is no way Rolan is ever telling you anything about heats and ruts
Absolutely forbidd his siblings from mentioning it too, he's just way too embarrassed for you to know
Even when you guys are dating he just locks himself away in his tower for a week while he works through it and recovers
This man will not tell you anything
And then he forgets to lock the door
As soon as you open it you're met with the sight of a whiney, teary eyed Rolan trying to get off by grinding against a pillow in desperation
Unlike with the other two, there's no clear 'top' when you're with Rolan during his rut
He loves having you ride him until he sees stars just as much as he wants to bend you over his desk until everyone else in Ramaziths tower can hear you scream
Rolan loves hearing you when he's in rut
Yell his name, tell him that you belong to him, tell him how good he fucks you, say he looks so pretty when you ride him-
He loves all of it so much
He's also the one that bites you the hardest, expect him to draw at least a little bit of blood by accident
Breeding kink: the trilogy
Rolan isn't letting you leave the room unless he's knocked you up
Absolutely puts a fertility spell on you by brushing his hand over your lower belly and murmuring the words
He also refuses to pull out unless it's to change positions, and if any cum leaks out of you he'll push it back in with his fingers
Overstimulation is the name of the game with Rolan, he wants you both overstimulated and crying and completely fucked out
This man believes in equality and we love him for it
The youngest of the tiefling bachelors and definitely the most pent up, it'll take all day before he calms down enough for the two of you to rest
When things do calm down, after he makes sure you're both clean and fed, Rolan wraps you up with him in his bed and will read to you
It's his own personal flavour of aftercare, cuddling and reading your favourite book as he makes sure you're comfortable and happy
And it all starts over when you wake up the next morning with him hard as a rock against your ass
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pomefioredove · 18 days
Note
Hiya! Do you think you could write something romantic and fluffy with Vil? I love him!
hi anon of course! I am so unwell about this man
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summary: being friends with vil schoenheit has its perks type of post: fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, FLUFFY, mentions of food, friends to lovers huhuhu, maybe a tiny bit suggestive but also not really? lap-sitting and kissing
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Someone should write a guide on how to be friends with Vil Schoenheit.
It did not come as naturally to you as you would have hoped. There were times when he felt like a star in your presence, not the actor kind, but the heavenly body.
Bright, and burning, and millions of miles away. Even as he sat directly across from you.
"You're not eating," he remarks. The comment is not degrading, though it is tinged with curiosity. "Is it bad?"
You haven't even sampled the meal yet- something fancy and expensive that you likely couldn't pronounce. He'd ordered it for you.
"It's okay," you lie.
He either buys your excuse, or ignores it. Either way, he reaches across the gossamer table cloth and switches your plates without asking.
Vil Schoenheit Friendship Survival Manual, rule number one: always assume his judgment is correct, until proven otherwise.
You look down at the plate- some kind of vegetable dish. He urges you on with a nod, lilac eyes fixed firmly on your pleasantly surprised reaction when you take a bite.
Rule number two: his judgment is always correct.
"Better?" he asks, not bothering to finish your food. He'll likely get something else later. "You really shouldn't skip meals. If you were feeling unwell, you should have said so. I would've ordered something lighter for you."
"Sorry. Didn't think of it," you say, taking another bite of his meal, if only to appease him.
You're hesitant to mention that the heavy feeling in your chest wasn't from illness, and so you say nothing more.
"No need to apologize. Here,"
Vil delicately reaches across the table and dabs at the corner of your mouth with his napkin. You hate how light-headed such a simple action makes you feel.
"Better. And don't worry about smudging anything, I have a few new products I'd like to try out on you later,"
Rule number three: always accept his gifts.
"Thanks," you murmur.
You were starting to feel as if you really were ill, the way your entire body warmed in his presence. Vil brought out a feverish sort of stupidity in you that made outings like this a minefield to navigate.
How painfully cliché, you thought. Hopelessly in love with someone far out of your league, with infinite options, none of which you could even hope to catch up to...
It made these evenings together pure torture.
You felt guilty for wishing he wasn't such an amazing friend. Must he insist on showering you in gifts and holding your hand every time you cross the street?
But being in his bedroom is another, dirtier realm of guilt. Vil saw you as a friend. Platonic. Someone he confided in, who he took under his wing. You were allowed to see parts of him no one else had, and yet, you can hardly pay attention to what he's saying because you can't stop thinking about the way his lips look when he speaks.
"Did you understand any of that?" he asks, bending down to your level as you sit on his bed. On his bed. And you had the mind to be thinking about doing romantic things...
Rule number four: speak when spoken to.
"No, sorry, I've just had a lot on my mind lately,"
Vil clicks his tongue and holds a hand to your forehead, feeling for temperature. "And you're sure you're not ill?"
"I'm fine! Just distracted,"
He chuckles, walking across the room to peruse his vanity. "Hm... and what sort of thoughts have got you scatterbrained today?"
You can feel your skin burning again. He could tell, couldn't he? All these weeks of coming undone every time he so much as looks your way couldn't have gone over his head... could they?
Or perhaps he was just used to people staring at him, stumbling over their words every time he spoke. Perhaps you were just another foolish fan who'd gotten to know him before falling in love.
You couldn't help but wish that there was someone or something that would just tell you what to do.
Rule number five: do not fall in love with him.
Vil sits beside you, a small, wooden box in hand.
"I'm supposed to promote these next weekend, but I'm not sure about them, yet," he says, opening the lid to reveal a plethora of lipsticks that likely cost more than your existence. "I'll need your opinion, of course."
"Right," you murmur.
"And I'd like to try them on you, as well,"
"Of course,"
"And you're alright with that?"
You nod. Ever the gentleman, always asking for permission. He's been quite generous with his products lately, giving them away to you like candy. You're almost certain he has a full list of your allergens somewhere.
Vil returns to the vanity, delicately prepping, and then applying the first shade. It's a marvelous, metallic pink, with dark red undertones that make it a regal color. It suits him, and you say as much.
"Oh, you think so? I suppose it does compliment my eyes, although I'd definitely need to pair it with something darker, else it become too overpowering..."
He clicks his tongue, and then turns to look over his shoulder at you.
"Your turn. Come sit,"
There isn't another chair at the vanity, and you take that as your cue to awkwardly stand in front of him until he tells you what to do. He chuckles, amused by some thought of his that he doesn't share aloud.
"What are you standing there for? Sit,"
You awkwardly look around the space, eyes searching for a mysteriously hidden stool, something that should have been obvious...
He smiles. "Oh, don't be shy. We've known each other long enough by now, haven't we?"
You can't think of the right thing to ask, although your thoughts are quickly cut off by the sight of him gently patting his lap.
Sevens. If there were any time to wake up, this was it.
Rule number five: do not fall in love with him.
He's not joking, of course. Vil hardly jokes. And so, you awkwardly straddle his lap, facing towards him, and allow him to get a good look at your visage.
He holds your chin firmly, studying your features as if he hasn't already seen them a thousand times before.
"Stay still,"
He's going to give you a heart attack, and there's a little quirk in his smile that tells you he knows it, too.
You wonder what your tag at the morgue will say. Death by Vil Schoenheit?
He starts with your skin, commenting on how soft it's gotten since he met you, then your eyes...
...Once he's satisfied, as he always is with his work, he turns your head so you can admire the makeup look in the mirror behind you.
"Stunning," he comments. "But you're missing something."
You look back, eyes wide. Surely, he hadn't forgotten something...? That's simply not in his nature.
He smiles at your confusion. "Remember? You promised to test these for me?"
Right. The lipstick. You nod. "Yes, but, I thought you'd already..."
"Oh, I do like the color. I'm just worried about this brand," Vil says. He looks away for a moment, almost as if to summon his courage... what a strange expression on him.
"What's wrong with the brand?"
He turns back with a small smirk. "They have a nasty reputation for smudging easily. I wouldn't want to make a fool of myself next weekend, hm?"
His cups your chin again, bringing you closer.
Rule number five: do not fall in love with him!
He tilts his head to the side. "You don't mind, do you?"
You couldn't have shaken your head any faster, even with his grip on your chin.
"Good. Now, stay still. I think this will be a good color on you, anyway,"
He pulls you in with ease, letting his lips rest on yours for a second or two, before pulling back. Short but sweet, enough to make you feel like your entire body has gone numb.
He inspects your face, humming to himself...
"Good so far," he says, bringing you closer again. "But that was too safe. I won't hold back next time. Are you ready?"
You nod. Barely anything had happened, and you're already breathless. "Ready,"
Another smile crosses his perfect face, though he doesn't give you any time to admire it before he's kissing you again, one hand still cupping your face, the other holding the back of your neck and pressing you closer.
Definitely not a very platonic kiss.
It takes him longer to pull away this time, though when he does, it gives you a perfect view of his still-pristine makeup.
"Hmm... still nothing. I'm quite impressed with this line," he says, reaching behind you and returning with the wooden box. "How do you feel?"
Dizzy. Light-headed. Warm.
"Good," you say.
Rule number five: do not fall in love with him.
Or do.
"Not too much, I hope?"
A delightful realization was beginning to come over you, one that made all you had thought about him null and void:
No one else could possibly give you a guide on Vil Schoenheit, because he writes the rules himself.
"No. That was perfect,"
"Excellent," he smiles, and flips the box open again. "Because we still have six more colors to test."
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endlessthxxghts · 2 months
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Dr. Miller - Pt 2
Orthopedic!Joel Miller x afab!Reader | W/C: 4.8k
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Summary: It’s time for your second appointment with Dr. Miller.
Warnings: canon-divergent - no outbreak, medical professional au. Reader (she/her) has female anatomy and is able-bodied. No physical description of race. Reference to reader’s clothing, but no sizes mentioned (everything is neutral). Pet names (darlin’, angel, girl, etc). Most definitely doctor malpractice LMFAO. 18+ MDNI. Inherent power imbalance (doctor-patient relations). Dirty talk. Hickeys/biting/marking. Fingering. Slight begging. Praise kink. Multiple orgasms. Spit kink. P in V unprotected (wrap it before you tap it, guys). Cum play/cum swallowing…snowball kisses🥴. Daddy kink… and last but not least, the ending.. I’m not gonna say what, you’ll just have to read, but I’m sorry😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 although I’m foregoing a warning or two for plot purposes, please let me know if they should be up here! I’ll fix it accordingly!🫶
A/N: Here goes round 2! As far as the series goes and as far as posting it goes LMAO!! This hellsite deleted my first attempt in posting, so hopefully it stays up this time around. And I’m giving a big thank you to @honeyedmiller for proofreading and catching my horrendous grammar mistakes lololol I love you🩶 Anywho, I hope you guys enjoy!!! I’d love to hear what you think :) luv u guys xx
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Friday. 4pm. Your next appointment with Dr. Miller was tomorrow. 
This was the first ever doctor appointment you’ve ever been excited for. The automated text their system sends out didn’t tell you to arrive early, and you’ll admit, you were bummed. 
You’ll show up early regardless. Maybe he’d be able to see you sooner if his schedule allows. At least, you can hope, anyway. 
After your appointment with him last week, you were left hurt and wanting. You knew the hurt was a natural reaction to the sudden dopamine drop, and something tells you Dr. Miller is a guy who’s adamant on aftercare. So, you swept those emotions under the rug easily. 
Not so easily, however, was your needy cunt and the way it drooled and throbbed for nearly an entire week straight, craving the one thing she almost had. She barely had a taste, but she was already hooked, addicted even. 
Your fingers, your vibrator, your purple dildo that’s helped you come plenty of times – nothing could get you off. Not anymore. 
Unbeknownst to you, Dr. Miller had the exact same problem. Well, okay – he could ejaculate just fine, but the want never seemed to leave his system. Ever since he’s had his taste of you, he could never reach the feeling of satisfaction. And it has taken an absolute toll on him. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dee snarked. Only she could ever talk to him like that. She keeps him on his toes. 
“The hell is wrong with me?” he huffed. 
“You’re being a grump, doc,” she replies. 
He rolls his eyes. “Ain’t I always?” 
“Yeah,” she says thoughtfully. “But you seem more… miserable.”
“Gee, Dee, well thank you for that,” he replies monotonously. 
“You’re welcome,” she snickers. She comes closer, voice hushed. “Seriously, though. Do you need to get laid or something?”
He chokes on the coffee he now regrets bringing up to his lips. “Jesus,” he coughs. “Time and place, Dee,” he says, trying to collect himself. 
She raises her hands up defensively. “I’m just lookin’ out for ya, doc,” she smirks, howling out a laugh as she puts Dr. Miller out of his misery by returning to her desk. 
He just shakes his head in response, fighting the blush on his cheeks at the thought of you taking care of the needs Dee so outwardly pointed out he had. 
Dr. Miller wouldn’t have to wait much longer, though. Your appointment was so soon, only one more work day before he’s able to be blessed by your presence again. That is, until Dee finds another opportunity to shit on Dr. Miller’s mood. 
“What do you mean we’re supposed to close early tomorrow?” Dr. Miller gruffs. 
“Exactly that, Miller,” Dee treads lightly. “It was in the calendar. Too many people have off in the afternoon tomorrow. It’s Easter weekend. You’ll be sorely understaffed.”
“Then who booked the patients after 2 if us closing early was in the calendar?” Dr. Miller is never one to be an asshole, dictating boss, but his irritation is very much getting the best of him right now. 
Dee whispers her next response. “…The new hire. But don’t blame them. I should’ve caught it sooner,” she reasons. 
Dr. Miller takes a steadying breath. “So how many people do we gotta disappoint right now?”
Dee pulls up the calendar on her phone. Dr. Miller watches her shoulders physically relax. “Oh! Actually, you’ve only got one person. At 4. I’ll call right now to reschedule,” Dee says with a finality. 
“Wait- who?” Dr. Miller asks. He knows who it is. 
Dee looks confused for a moment, but she indulges and reads off your name to her boss. 
“Y’know what, Dee,” Dr. Miller waves her off. “I’ll take care of that appointment, it’s fine.”
“Dr. Miller, are you sure-”
“‘Course,” he cuts her off. “I’m the only one in this damn office without Easter plans, anyway,” he huffs. “Empty nest or however that sayin’ goes.”
Dee nods in understanding. “How’s she doing?” 
“Fuckin’ amazin’,” Dr. Miller marvels. “She just surprises me more ‘n more everyday.”
Dee smiles before she returns to their situation at hand. “Are you sure you don’t want me to reschedule?”
“I’m sure,” Dr. Miller states. “Listen, I know this practice wouldn’t be able to run without any of y’all, and without you especially-” Dr. Miller explains. 
“You flatter me,” Dee butts in with a straight face. 
He smirks before continuing. “But have some faith in this old man, why don’t ya? I think I’m more than capable of doin’ the whole check in, check out thing.”
Dee takes in a sharp breath. “It’s much more than that, Miller, but nonetheless,” she holds her hands up in surrender. “I’ll put some faith in ya, old man.”
“Thank ya,” he drawls. “Now please go talk to the new hire about their mistake, I think they’re still afraid of me a lil bit.”
She laughs in the affirmative, shutting Dr. Miller’s office door on her way out. 
Holy shit. 
His plan to get you alone just worked itself out. Thank you, newbie, he thinks to himself.
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Dr. Miller’s office is less than ten minutes away from you, yet somehow you decide that if you left any later than 3, you’d keep Dr. Miller waiting, and you certainly didn’t want that happening.  
The parking lot is completely empty, a lone vehicle – a hefty truck – sits only two spaces away from your own. Your tummy swirls, knowing exactly whose car that might be. However, another swirl of nerves swarms through you. Why are there no other vehicles? 
Swallowing the anxious lump in your throat, you step out of your car and make your way inside the office. Inside is even further void of life than the parking lot. 
You make a beeline for the check-in window, picking up the pen from the cup to begin filling out your information when a deep drawl of your name startles you.
“Dr. Miller,” you jump, your eyebrows flying to your forehead. 
“Shit,” Dr. Miller chuckles. “Sorry, darlin’,” his voice was much softer, careful. “I do that a lot to my staff- sneak up on ‘em, they call it. Say I need a bell or somethin’ ‘round my neck.” 
You laugh with him at the little anecdote. He motions for you to come on back already, dismissing the check-in process since it’s only you, he explains. 
“Why is it only me?” You ask. Well, okay – you know why it’s only you, but how is it only you is the question. He did not just send everyone else home since you’d be here. That would raise too much suspicion. 
Walking you to the patient room furthest from the potential public eye, he retells the new hire’s mistake. You find yourself in the same mindset as Dr. Miller as you silently thank them for not being more careful. 
“You could’ve rescheduled me, you know,” you tell him, eyebrow raised. 
“Yeah, I know,” he quips as he opens the door for you. 
You step inside, turning around to face him. “So why didn’t you?”
The door clicks shut, and Dr. Miller’s now face-to-face with you, head tilted down to meet your challenging gaze. The air in the room becomes dangerously charged. 
“I think you know why, angel,” he says, scarily smooth. 
You don’t back down. “Enlighten me.”
He takes a step closer to you, forcing you to step back. “Why should I? When that very reason is right between those legs already crying for me, huh? I bet she’s a fuckin’ mess already, ain’t she?” 
You gulp as your ass hits the exam table, not realizing that Dr. Miller has been slowly cornering you. 
Without giving you a moment to respond, his lips are crashing into yours, his large hands grabbing onto either side of your face to keep you against him as your body melts into his hold. His tongue licks across your bottom lip, and your mouth opens, letting him in. You mewl into his mouth, each of your tongues lapping one another’s flavors, your senses immediately being consumed. 
The kiss breaks, and you both are frantic. Your hands grab onto the exam table behind you and you hoist yourself up, your fingers already finding the hem of your shirt as you rip it off, letting it fall to the ground. Dr. Miller practically growls at the sight, his chocolate brown eyes blackened with pure need. 
He shucks off his white coat, letting it join your top as he pounces on you again. He nips at your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and letting it go with a pop as he drags his scruffy face across your jaw and down your neck, biting pretty little bruises everywhere his mouth touches. 
Your hands find the bottom of his shirt, taking the liberty of pulling it off and whining when it gets caught over his broad form. “Patience, angel, I’m not goin’ anywhere this time,” he coos, his eyes genuine. 
You huff out in mock annoyance, your eyes silently thanking him for the reassurance. You pull back to let Dr. Miller take off the upper portion of his scrubs. Your irritated façade is quick to fade as your eyes coast his body: his broad shoulders and tanned chest, the product of laborious activity throughout one’s life; your eyes drag down to his softer middle, the product of a happy, indulgent life. Your spit is suddenly thick. 
Dr. Miller’s thumb comes up to rub across your bottom lip. “Ya alright? Got a lil bit of drool right there,” he taunts. 
You tilt your head and take his thumb in your mouth, letting your spit coat his digit generously as your hands pull him in by his waist, your fingers scratching the expanse of his sides and his belly. “So fucking sexy,” you murmur, eyes alight with hunger. 
Unable to verbally deal with the compliment, Dr. Miller pulls his thumb from your mouth, settling his hand on your jaw as he pulls you in to kiss your lips again. It’s much softer this time, more savory. He takes his time with it, and it has both your resolves breaking as Dr. Miller’s free hand finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it with ease, the article joining the haphazard pile on the floor. 
Dr. Miller kisses down your neck once again, your body leaning back to give him more access. His mouth goes straight for your hardened nipple, his tongue circling the entire area before putting as much as he can in his mouth and sucks.His hand fondles your other breast while he works the one in his mouth. You’re moaning and writhing at the stimulation, your pussy utterly leaking past the barrier of your pants and onto the exam table. 
“Dr. Miller, please,” you gasp. “Please- need more,” you moan, eyes rolling back at a particular nip to your bud. You can feel him smile against you, his mouth relenting only to move to your other breast. Dr. Miller is all about detail, of course he needs to make sure every part of you receives ample attention. 
He releases you with a pop, a devilish grin on his face as he stands back to his full height. His hand snakes to your front, the pads of his fingers rubbing softly at your clothed center, your slick completely soaked through. “Ya need more?” He drawls. “Tell me what you need, baby,” he says sickeningly sweet, his entire hand moving to cup your sex, the squelch of your arousal making his cock twitch. 
“Fuck-” you squeak, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. “T-touch me, p-please,” you stammer. 
To outsiders looking in – hell, to even you – it’d seem as though Dr. Miller is entirely calm and collected, at ease in the way he’s been teasing you. Yet, with the way his cock is straining the material of his scrubs and the way his chest heaves, he is anything but. He is so far gone, he nearly wanted to rip your clothes off in the waiting room and take you over the fucking counter. But he didn’t, much to his displeasure, but he tells himself the buildup is worth the wait. And, fuck- with you? It’s so fucking worth it.
“I am touchin’ you, darlin’. Touch how? Use those words, sweet girl, I know you can,” he tells you, squeezing your cunt in a way that has your belly doing flips.
“Oh, God-” your head rolls back, body on fire. “F-fuck me, Dr. Miller, n-need your- fuck- need your cock, need it so bad,” you plead, eyes tearing up the more you speak. The man finally broke you. 
Dr. Miller smiles wildly. “Atta girl,” he rewards you, “I’ll give it to ya,” he breathes. “Lord knows you’re all I been thinkin’ ‘bout,” he admits as his fingers begin nudging your pants down. 
“Yeah?” you breathe softly as you lift your hips for him. Even in your aroused craze, you can’t help but soften at the admission. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either,” you tell him. 
This is so much more than a fucking hookup, you both think. But you ignore that fact for later. 
Shaking off the emotion, as soon as your pants join your clothes, you lean back, settling your elbows behind you to keep you up. Letting your legs fall open, you quirk your brow. “Well, cowboy?”
That brings his attention back. His eyes are fixed on your shiny cunt, his tongue twitches to drink you up. But, no, this is about you this time. And what you want is to be full. He’ll give it to you. But, first-
“I was too big for you last time,” he states matter-of-factly. 
“I-” your eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“I hurt you last time.”
“No you didn’t-”
“I could tell it did,” he rebuttals. 
Without another word, he steps out of the exam room. A beat passes and he’s back – with a fluffy pillow. 
“Um-”
“Lift,” he states. 
You lift your hips up, and Dr. Miller places the pillow underneath your lower back. “This should help open your pelvic floor more,” he says. “And ease the tightness of the position,” he adds.
And it does. 
“Oh,” you whisper. “Thanks,” you say, your cheeks heating up at the action. 
He leans over you to kiss your tummy before his hands settle on the insides of your thighs. “You okay?” He asks. His thumbs rub up and down, dangerously close to where you’re leaking for him.
“Mhm,” you hum, not trusting your voice anymore. 
“I’m gonna fuck you,” he says. 
“Oh, God, please-” you whine impatiently. 
“But I needa touch you first, angel, I don’t wanna hurt you. Please?”
How can you say no to that? To his thick fingers and the way you know he can use them so expertly? How can you say no to the hands that have built his career or to the hands that’ll easily make you fall apart just as much as you know his cock would? You’d be an absolute dumbass to say no to that.
“Okay, Dr. Miller,” you say, voice shaky in anticipation. 
“Joel,” he offers.
Your heart skips a beat. “Joel?” you question. 
“Mhm,” he hums. “My name- well, first name, I guess,” he pauses. His fingers move closer to your core, the softest of touches ghost through your seam. You take a sharp breath in. “Just tellin’ you cuz I wanna hear you moan it when I make a mess a’ you. I bet it’ll sound real pretty, baby.”
His thumb finds your clit, then, and you do exactly what Dr. Miller – Joel – wanted. You moan out his name deliciously, sending him groaning at the pang of desire shooting up his spine, his cock weeping for attention. 
“Fuck yeah, angel, that’s it. Knew you’d sound so fuckin’ gorgeous, fuck-”
His thumb continues its assault on your throbbing bud while the middle finger on his other hand rubs through your wet folds, collecting up the arousal before he pushes into your entrance. 
It’s an easy push, his fingers are thick, so there’s still a slight stretch amongst the pleasure. The work he puts in with both hands has your hips bucking in his touch, and it eases your body enough for him to slip his ring finger along his other. 
His two fingers fuck into you at a sweet pace, the length of him reaching places your own fingers have never felt before. It’s pure ecstacy. “Oh, Joel, yes- shitshitshit, that feels so fucking good,” you cry, your head lolling around like a bobblehead, your body falling weaker and weaker the more he plays with you. 
“Yeah, baby? Like that? That feel good?” He grunts, his heart beating a mile a minute at how fucking pretty and wild you look and sound from his fingers alone. “So fuckin’ wet, baby,” he snarls. “You know what, pretty girl?”
“What?” you whine, trying your best to keep your eyes open and on him as your head begins to tingle from how hard you’re panting. 
“I think you’re ready to take me, baby, I think she’s so fuckin’ ready,” he grins, his fingers adopting a come-here motion, your sobs reverberating throughout the tiny exam room. 
“Come for me first, pretty girl, make a mess on my fuckin’ fingers, and I’ll give what you’ve been crying for,” he all but demands as he looks down and lets a big glob of his spit fall directly onto your clit, his fingers gliding over you even quicker in the mixture. 
“Fuck- Joel!” you scream, the spit being the action that completely throws you over the edge. 
“Jesus, angel, fuck-” he stills his fingers, letting himself feel the flutter of your warmth as you cream all around him.“So fuckin’ perfect comin’ all over my fingers, goddamn, messy fuckin’ girl,” he rambles, his eyes roaming every inch of your body, taking in every twitch, shake, and mewl your body is giving him. 
Your breathing starts to slow, muscles relaxing but not quite over its shaking. He pulls his fingers out of you and brings it directly to his mouth, his cock nearly bursting at the taste of you on his tongue. Another time, he thinks to himself as he bends down to pull the rest of his scrubs off, using the moment to place a chaste kiss to your puffy clit. You yelp at the sensation, a lazy, blissed out smile blesses him, and he can hear his heartbeat thrum in his ears at the sight. 
Joel crowds himself between your thighs again, pumping his cock a few times, his thumb reaching for the precum leaking at his slit and spreading it all over his length. 
“How you feelin’?” Joel checks in. 
“So fucking good, Joel,” you respond, doe-eyed but entirely honest. 
He wants to kiss you so fucking bad.
So he does. 
He leans over you as best as he can in this angle, his length rubbing against your folds as he leans in, his hand wraps at the base of your neck, pulling you in for an open-mouthed kiss – wet, hot, and slow. He pulls away with a blush across his cheeks, and your face is entirely engulfed by flames, too. Did that kiss make him nervous? Did it make you nervous?
Unable to look away from each other, you utter the first thing that comes to mind. “Please,” you whisper, though you don’t really know what you’re pleading for. 
“I got ya,” Joel whispers, pulling himself back to line up his erection with your entrance. 
Even though Joel’s fingers were a stretch all on their own and your body was quick to adjust, you genuinely don’t think anything could truly prepare you for the length and girth of Dr. Joel Miller.
Last week, it was damn near impossible. Thinking back to it, honestly, you think you might want to even thank the nurse that interrupted you two. Still, if Joel hadn’t prepared you today with his fingers, you definitely wouldn’t have been able to take him as fast as you are now.
He pushes in just the tip, and you both gasp at the initial pleasure. Your mewls are more pleasurable than painful this time around, and Joel takes that as the go-ahead to keep going.
“You tell me if I needa stop, darlin’, I’ll stop immediately,” Joel grunts, trying his best to keep slow. 
“God, fuck- Joel, I swear to God, you better not stop- need you so bad,” you lament. He finally pushes himself to the hilt, your rambling continuing as he does so. “Please fuck me, baby, fuck me hard, da-” you gasp and slap your hand over your mouth, catching yourself before you let yourself finish that word. 
Joel pauses all movement, his hands tightly on your hips as his purely black eyes stare down at you. “What’d ya say, angel?”
“J-Joel, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what-”
“Not my question, babygirl,” he warns softly. “What’d you call me?”
You gulp, opting to just stare at him, silently begging him to spare you of the embarrassment. 
He withdraws from you, all the way out to the tip, then, oh so slowly he pushes back in. He pauses halfway, eyebrow raised. Words.
“Please, Jo-” you start. His hand squeezes your hip in warning. “Please… Daddy, please,” you whine, finally giving in. With that, he pushes in roughly to the hilt, knocking all the wind from your lungs as pure pleasure flows through every nerve in your body. “Oh, fuck!”
“That’s it, angel, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he moans, his thrusts slow but calculated. “Makin’ daddy feel so good, baby, shit-” he tells you, his own eyes finally fluttering shut as he revels in the feeling of the warmth of your walls, tight and fucking perfect.
“How’s daddy’s girl feelin’, baby? Feelin’ good? Hm?” he grunts with a particular thrust forward. 
“So- fuck-” you try to get out, your sweet cries of euphoria cutting you off and forcing you into incoherency. But you’ve experienced enough in this short time with Dr. Miller – with Joel – to know he needs this communication. He thrives on it. So you try your damn hardest. And fuck, it nearly sends him to his end. 
“F-feels so good, so so good- mmm, shit- love your cock s’much, daddy,” you slur, eyes nearly going cross-eyed as Joel’s hips start to move faster, his fingers gripping tight enough to leave little bruises on your waist, a matching set to the marks across your neck and chest. 
The wanton moans spilling from your mouth spurs Joel on, his brain short-circuiting at the feel of your velvety core consuming him. You feel him twitch before he feels you flutter. The sensation wakes you up a little, a wave of confidence overtaking you despite the fervent drive of his hips. 
“You’re close, daddy,” you whine, a mischievous grin across your face. “Can feel you,” you tell him, thrusting your hips softly, attempting to meet his every push and pull with the help of the pillow gliding underneath you. 
“Fuck-” he chokes, his hips only faltering in pace for barely a moment. One hand lets go of your waist and falls where you two are connected. “Need you- shit-” he pants. “Need you to come ‘round daddy’s cock first, pretty girl.” His thumb finds your nerves, slick and sensitive, and wastes no time in forcing you to the brink of another orgasm. 
His fingers circle you, matching the rhythm of his hips, and instantly, your eyes clamp shut, back arching deliciously as you let your legs open impossibly further. “Oh, daddy- oh God, oh fuck- I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-” you yell as your throat becomes hoarse, your chest sinking and rising as you let your body relish in the fire that Joel is throwing you into. 
“Give it t’me, lemme feel you, angel,” Joel urges, his lower tummy flexing as he feels your inner walls spasm and soak his pulsing length.  
“Oh, yes- yeah, fuck- please,” you babble mindlessly. Pulling yourself to sit up, your hand planted behind you, you pull Joel in, lips ghosting each other as his quick breaths fan against your lips. “You gonna come? My pussy that good, daddy?”
Your random spurts of teasing has Joel in all sorts of panic. Usually, he’s one to call the shots, and all his past partners never wanted or requested anything different, but it seems as though he has finally met his match. “Fuckin- Christ, doll- pussy’s so fuckin’ good, baby, daddy’s gonna fuckin- oh fuck-” he keens, pulling out just in time for his cock to spill his entire worth across your mound and your lower belly. 
“Oh my god,” you moan to yourself, your pussy clenching around nothing at the sight of him all over you. 
Joel takes a minute to catch his breath, his eyes scanning every inch of you like he didn’t just violate every Doctor oath he’s ever taken. 
“I think I need to be the one to check in this time,” you let out in a breathy laugh. “You okay?”
He still isn’t looking in your eye, and it makes you nervous. Is he regretting everything now? “Joel?” you call, barely audible. 
His eyes snap to yours before they fall back to where he was looking before. “Yeah, yeah, I’m alright, baby, I just, uh-”
Cutting himself off, he bends down slowly. You watch him, confused but intrigued. He sticks his tongue out, flat, and licks. From your mound to the lower part of your belly, he collects up the salty, milky liquid on his tongue. 
He brings his mouth up to you, his hand finding purchase at the back of your neck. He pulls you into his mouth, his tongue invites itself into your space along with the heady musk of his come, and you welcome it greedily, swallowing every little bit of his arousal that you can.
You break away just before his watch beeps: 5:45pm, fifteen minutes until closing. “That was-”
“I’m sorry, that was disgustin’ I don’t know why I jus’ did that-”
You lean in to nip at him, pulling away with a suck to his pouty bottom lip. “That was hot, Dr. Miller,” you smirk. 
Dr. Miller’s exam rooms, although not often, can see a lot of bodily fluids. Obviously not the kinds that you two have exchanged together, but with the notion of removing casts and such, sweat is bound to get everywhere. So every room holds baby and/or sanitizing wipes just in case. 
He grabs a pack of baby wipes underneath the cabinet and takes out a few. He wipes your entire lower half down, and grabs some more from the pack to wipe himself off. It’s a dance of wobbly limbs as both of you help each other dress back up, you being particularly whiny at how stiff the scrub material is when you try and blame it on his big size. 
“I thought you liked how big I am?” He quips, your eyebrows shooting up in response as you slap his chest. 
All dressed up, you two walk out of the exam room, both you and Dr. Miller on cloud nine as you make your way back to the front office.
Before reaching the door, he grabs on your waist, pulling you against the wall, towering over you. That beautiful Southern gentleman smile bright on display, the kind of smile that has your knees wanting to buckle. 
“I- I had a great time with you,” he says, a little bashful. Sure, the things you did together were otherworldly, but the things that came after? How he was able to help clean you, dress you, and simply just be with you afterwards? He really can’t remember a time he’s felt so right. 
“I did, too,” you tell him. “But, I think…” you trail off. 
His stomach sinks. Here it comes. We shouldn’t be doing this anymore, he knows you’ll say. 
“I think I can’t be your patient anymore,” you whisper with a giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“Dear God, you just about gave me a damn heart attack,” he huffs, burying his head into the crook of your neck, littering playful nips anywhere he can reach as payback for scaring him. 
You two break out in laughter, it slowly turning into an impromptu makeout session as his lips find yours again, both of you insatiable for one another’s taste. 
You’re so caught up in each other that neither of you realize the front door of the office unlocks, nor do you realize someone is entering the hallway you two are currently in. 
You also don’t hear the gasp coming from the person either, not until-
“Dr. Miller?!”
Shit. 
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NEXT (coming soon) ->
Please let me know what you guys think!!! Your feedback keeps me going, and interacting with everyone literally brings the brightest smile on my face. All my love xoxo
I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.
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netherfeildren · 22 days
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Notes On a Virtuous Affair
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Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: One would think this road ends in something virtuous—a greenness so dazzling it hurt the eyes—and not the sort of man waiting in his far out removed solitude.
He was the experienced one, you the innocent. It should have been different. Maybe it should’ve felt different. And yet, there was something in him that made you feel very much the conquering one, you the baptizing one.
Rating: Explicit 18+
Content Warnings: Post outbreak; Jackson Joel Miller; Dom/sub undertones; Rough Sex; Impact Play; Face Slapping; Spanking; PIV sex; Ass Play; Oral Sex (m!receiving); Come Eating; Throat Fucking; Unprotected Sex; Potentially Toxic Dynamics? (haha?); Complicated Feelings; They Love Each Other in Their Own Weird Way, Ok?; Older Man/Younger Woman; Idk What This Is, I Don't Expect You to Either;
A/N: miss you guys, sorry for the disappearing act <3
Word Count: 3.1K
Read on AO3
Notes On a Virtuous Affair
Sunlight spills over everything, and the pastoral green leads you to him. 
One would think this road ends in something virtuous—a greenness so dazzling it hurt the eyes—and not the sort of man waiting in his far out removed solitude. 
But there’s an incongruity afoot here that only you appreciate.
The secret lies in that there’s a riddle woven through the three miles you pilgrim to see him weekly. The first, a boon, the green lush wasteland, if a thing that’s alive can be wasted. The second, an honesty, I’ll venture this distance for him. The third, a precursor, when your muscles start to tingle, your thighs, hot and itchy, nape, coated in a taste of salt. Your feet crunch along the gravel and dirt, protected by the soft leathered boots inherited from Lucy who’d died last Monday. A good start to the week, with new boots, and a thoughtful gift she’d left you, your friend, when your own shoes were so worn from all the walking you do for him. The end of the world changes death, finds good things within it. 
The sun warms the bridge of your nose, and you tip your face up to the too-bright light, trying your hardest to look straight at the intensity of it. He’s very much like this too. Why would you look directly at the sun if not for the hurting it brings? Your palms splayed forward at your sides, the breeze moving through your fingers, and the world is all around you alive in this apocalypse. 
Jackson is left further and further behind as you move towards him, and what no one understands, not even Joel Miller himself, is that there is something virtuous about this affair.
-
“I’m gonna fuck your mouth now,” he says down at you, bare as the day you were born and kneeling before his clothed and towering height. Nothing but the heavy hanging length of his cock is naked for you, the first you’d ever seen in your whole life. If he had his way, the only one you’d ever see for the rest of it. The wide head is slick and glossy, the way it bobs obscenely from his open jeans looking like the weight of it would hurt, the way it juts from the bed of hair at this groin like a threat to you. 
You know now, after all his focused training, that it only hurts him when you don’t tend to it as he needs, that it’s only a threat when you fail to do the same. He’s shown you the rules of hurting, in all these months you’ve come your three promised miles to him time after time. Shown you how it comes easy, that of hurting someone you love. A running in place sort of thing. You know all the steps that will come, the exact spot you’ll tread in. The way to propel yourself forward to finally leave that same place, avoid it, if you want. 
“Open wider. Won’t fit like that,” he clicks his tongue, voice a burr as he grips his throbbing flesh and with the other too big hand, also like a seeming threat, but not, he gives you a quick, softly stinging slap to the high of your cheekbone. The sound, fast and snapping like his disapproving tongue. You swallow a moan, looking up at him with that look in your eyes you know disturbs him, adoration, letting the hinges of your jaw go loose, saliva pooling beneath the cover of your tongue. “Don’t you want me?” He asks. 
And you blink once, moan crossing the bridge to a laugh if your mouth wasn’t stretched wide as it’ll go. He sees it though, skipping water in your eyes and gives that half smile, the mean one, the one that says he has all the answers in the world, knows all the things there are to know, that one you like best. Good girl, and his voice makes no sound, only the shape of the words on his mouth. You haven’t been good enough yet to hear the real thing of them out loud. This tells you that you must apply yourself to the task at hand, making him come. 
One heavy tap to the flat of your tongue sticking out for him first, and then he’s slicking that fat head against the surface, giving you the first real taste, salt and musk trickle down the back of your throat and you moan again, eyes screwing shut tight, cunt aching something fierce. Leaking just like the tip of his cock leaks too. 
That’s the thing about this thing, the one you see very well and Joel still fails to. The two of you, as disparate as you might seem, are the same in all the basic but most important ways. Too much in common for him to look at in the eye comfortably and still do the things you do. 
“Open your throat. Get me hard.” In your head, he calls you baby. In reality, only sometimes, when you’re extra good, does that happen. But in your imagination, where it matters more, he doesn't ask nice, but you are his baby. 
He slides back, back, hits the end of your throat, pulls out against the wet heat of your tongue. You keep your jaw wide until you feel him harden entirely, until he stretches his neck back, tendons jumping stark, clench of his jaw fluttering with a choked groan. “Suck me,” your permission to savor him like you need to. 
Hands pressed firmly to your bare knees, not digging at your soft wet like you’d like, or pawing at him as you’d like even more, you close your lips around him, cheeks hollowed and suck hard, tonguing at his slit on the pull back so that he’s bearing his teeth at you in a growl and shoving forward again hard, a snarl as the cinch of your tight throat strangles the head of his cock on every one of your swallows. Your eyes water, but he pets softly at the same spot he’d stung earlier with his slap. 
A game you used to play with your siblings, who could slap one another harder until the other gave out. It’d taken a while for you to come to the realization, but eventually, you’d realized the memory of it in your mind as it exists now wasn’t innocent the way it should’ve been. That there had been something you’d liked about it in a strange way—that hurting. That the first time you’d asked Joel to play the same game with you, you’d wanted him to slap you other places just as hard until you gave out also. 
The games were part of the thing. His own strange rules, like the way you couldn’t touch him sometimes—you dig your bitten down nails into the soft skin of your inner thighs—only when he said it was okay was it allowed. The way you were never allowed to touch your cunt unless he said so also. He had weird things about him, turned strange by the dangerous ways of life. Like the solitude, the house out and away, the begging you had to do for him to have you. 
Sameness. 
He wraps his fist in your hair, more sting, “Gonna fill your belly with my come, yeah?” His thrusts pick up pace, pulling your head back as far as your neck allows so that he can fuck your throat in full, jaw hanging wide, and you’re just the wet and willing hole you know he sometimes wishes you could always stay as. 
The thick cock against your tongue throbs once, twice and then he’s spilling hot and heavy down your open throat, sweet salt against the back of your tongue while you try and breathe through his strangling, tears spilling.
When he pulls back, slipping wet and heavy from your mouth you fall forward onto your palms, breathing fast, almost hyperventilating, stinging with the forced will to remain obedient. Your spine burns beneath your skin and your sore jaw hangs unwillingly open, sloppy mouth dripping a string of semen between your splayed palms. 
He crouches before you, dripping cock like your mouth, milked to heavy softness hangs long and sated between his thighs. And he pets your crown, the vulnerable shell of your ear, whole body on fire so that every inch of skin hurts without his touch, hurts worse with it. 
“Good girl,” he says now with voice. 
-
The walk seems longer some days. A thousand miles plus an eon instead of merely three. Especially on the days you’re more desperate than usual. The ones when your stomach feels full of sugar for him and the memory taste of his cock is already aching in your molars. Those days your steps are hurried, look in your eyes frenzied to get to him, to escape the things you leave behind. A too full house, your sister’s squalling, teething baby, your little brothers, and too many mouths to feed and not attention to be had, not enough mother for everyone to get loved. 
There’s reasons for this game between the two of you, you’d had to come out and find your attention somewhere else. 
Your love too. 
And if it comes with a sting sometimes, well, so had your mother’s. You like it like this now. 
The first time he’d touched your cunt: show me that pretty pussy, baby, and he’d had you from that very first sweet word, you gonna let me finger it? You’d spread wide, leaked into the cup of his palm like a whore, you’d needed to make sure he was for keeping from the first try, you see. So you’d done all he’d said, taken four fingers and only cried a little bit but whined a lot. Been all, hurts, Joel, high pitched and dragging his name out on a puppy whimper. 
He’d given you that first lesson in hurt the very first time: Yeah? Supposed to. A real mean man. And then made you gush into that very cupped palm so that he could drink of your sweetness. 
He was the experienced one, you the innocent. It should have been different. Maybe it should’ve felt different. And yet, there was something in him that made you feel very much the conquering one, you the baptizing one. 
The third mile comes to an end, the precursor, over, his house in view. It’s all quiet and slumbering and the long grass pulls you forward with its wind blown sway. The wide door to his shed is propped open, half finished rocking chair up on the workbench that sways with the intruding gust. The grass whispers behind you, the dark woods across the field moan, and he’s nowhere while the Tetons loom in the distance. 
You drag your fingers along the slats of his house as you pass, everything is so quiet, like he’d never been here. Like he’d gone and left you the way he’s promised he’d never do. Your belly feels bloated with heat, heart turned into four incongruous chambers that no longer beat in tune, memories of him rioting between each thump. Your cunt goes soft and drooling in your panties as your fear beats higher and higher, and you come to the mouth of the shed, peering into the cool darkness of this little place where he makes his beautiful things. The things that go into people’s homes to be used by people’s families to be stored in people’s memories.
The gleam of the sun does not cross the threshold, and you brace your palms on either side of the wide door, the air thrums and he’s not here—yet—you slide the toe of Lucy’s old boot across the border of sunlight into sanctuary and peek your closed-eyed face into the shade right before you’re taken bodily to the ground by his heavy weight. Palms catching splinters, his strong chest heaves into the line of your spine, strong arm at your waist to pull your breath from your lungs and your legs from under you. 
He forces you belly first to the ground, other hand circling your throat in the imitation of a strangle lest you lose yourself and decide to struggle for the first time ever. But you dig your fingernails into the dirt, scratching for purchase in preparation of what’s about to come, all the fight going out of you; body, half in shadow, half in sunlight. Your bones feel salt bleached. An over abundance of sodium in the blood that renders you catatonic for him.
He nuzzles soft at your nape while his hand shoves under your dress, ripping your underwear down your legs so that the elastic cuts into your tender skin to hurt. All incongruous movement, this man is. 
“Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to go creepin’ ‘round strange men’s homes?” His voice is so deep, drawled, broken up into different notes of lust and anger and temerity. All the strange things that make Joel Miller up. 
Yeah, you sigh into the dirt. “Told me exactly how it’d go for me if I did.”
You hitch your rump up then, presenting your cunt for fucking. The breeze doesn’t do half to soothe the throbbing wet. The sort of ache that’ll only be fixed by something heavy inside the hurting place. The sound of his belt quiets the disparate chambers, the beat in your ears of rushing blood is uniform now, there’ll be a wet spot in the shape of you in the dirt when he’s through. You lift your hips higher, knees scraped rough as you spread wider, face pressed to the ground and your fingers are well and burrowed in their little gouges now. 
He smacks the heft of it against you asshole, spits and presses a little. He likes to scare you sometimes. Nooo, Joel, all whining stutter, but with your back arching deeper like a little babied liar; you don’t mind where he puts it, only that he puts it somewhere.
“Hush,” he soothes all nice, spanks your ass once all not— “Gonna teach you a lesson.” And shoves inside, bumping against your womb on the first try, stretching your hole too wide, too quick. And there’s no prep, no qualm. No need to hesitate when you own a thing. You swallow your animal cry, ah ah ah, you want to hear how good you’ve been out loud. He grips your hips tight enough to bruise which is what you know he wants and fucks hard and fast, each swing whistles with ownership. 
He fucks you in the dirt like an animal, and this affair is virtuous. 
He teaches you the truth about hurting, about ownership, about so many things that only a man like Joel Miller could teach a girl like you. And all the while he tells you that you’re too pretty to take such an ugly fucking. 
The way he works your cunt, hungry, balls swinging wet so that they sting like his slaps, tip battering hard so that it aches like gratitude. 
These are the things three miles give you. A whole man to teach you about the whole world. 
The slick squelch of your overwhelmed cunt sounds loud, no more disparate heartbeat, no more green grassed whispers. Only the sound of his grunting above you like an animal remains. “You’re the perfect little cunt. You know that, baby?” There it is, you sigh. Start to tremble around him like that, like his good baby that you are, desperate flutters, little gash being fucked into obedience like you need. Your overwhelmed pants make little dirt dream clouds before your eyes as you start to come for him, crying his name, crying your love, crying that you’re so, so thankful. 
“Don’t stop, Joel. Not yet.” And he loves it when you beg, loves it when your cunt pulls tight like a knot.  
“Not yet,” he promises because he might be a real mean man, but he loves you like separating salt from blood.
Complicated and precise. 
When he’s through with you, there’s sunlight spilling over everything again. It’s journey goes on and on, and his semen drips from your cunt now. He turns gentle, thrusting still, making sure it’s fucked deep, pulsing in time with your own throb. Rhythms merge between the two of you. 
His rules are strange, his claims over you equally mysterious. He won’t say things out loud, won’t let you touch any real part of him, but his strange truths ring loud anyways, and when your heart isn’t disjointed, you hear him perfectly well. 
When he lays you out bare and trembling across his messy bed, the groaned pains of his age and rutting in the dirt like an animal sound from him as he drapes himself alongside you. Large and hairy, feet hanging off the end of the bed, entirely real with one knee propped up so that his thick cock lays heavy and soft over the swell of his belly. Your heart beats soft and overfull now. 
You watch the sun set across the planes of his chest and bask in the blue dark as the night draws breath around you. The work of meting out obedience to little girls who come searching for it is toiling, and you watch him melt into sleep, but right before he’s just gone away from you, with a single finger petting at the jut of the old broken bone in his shoulder, your whispered plea: Will you give me a falseness? You don’t call it a lie. This is a virtuous thing, after all.
Lies aren’t allowed in this house. 
He breathes a deep sigh, and you watch the fan of his long lashes sweep open, staring up at the shadowed rafters of his home. You swear you can see each and every individual whisker in his thick beard, dark and gray dispersed throughout. You see every single detail. 
He’d told you once there were ghosts here, in this house, and you’d learned later it wasn’t a lie. This became more and more obvious the more you got to know him. 
He stares up at them now. 
When he’d taken your virginity, when it’d left you the way you’d always imagined it would, covered in tears and blood and semen, you’d made that promise to each other. That you wouldn't lie, that he’d have all of you, that you’d not touch all of him. The ghost lay beside you in the damp bed of your lost innocence that day. It’d been just so ever since and over many miles of three you’d come to appreciate the realities of it. Who could be more connected than two people who always tell each other their truths exactly as they are?
“Give me a falseness,” you say again, not a lie. 
“A good kind of a bad kind?”
You flip a mind’s coin, wish you could see the exact ghosts he sees— “Bad.”
He turns to look at you, this half smile he wears is your second favorite one now, the honest one, and it’s all there for you to see. All the disparate chambers of Joel, just like your heart beating in your ears. You suppose the ghosts don’t matter then. 
“I don’t love you.”
And you nod solemn. Bad, like a whisper, like your game. 
You smile back, the one you know he likes best, the one that looks like his.
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forensicheart · 19 days
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Holy Hands 18+
Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: Lando can't help but do something after he notices your new obsession with his hands
Warnings: oral (f receiving), dirty talk
A/N: This is inspired by the post I recently reblogged, like goddamn those hands
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You had always paid attention to Lando's hands, you paid attention to everything about him of course. You knew he was hot, you knew the fans thought he was hot but when you came across a collage of your boyfriends hands while scrolling through twitter, you found a new appreciation for this particular body part.
You were curled into Lando's side as you both sat on the couch, some show playing in the background as you watched Lando scroll through instagram on his phone, or more importantly, the hands that held his phone. The veins that ran down his arms drawing your attention away from anything else, his long fingers that moved quickly and skillfully as he now started typing. Fingers that left lingering touches on you day and night, had made you feel so good you always craved more.
"Love?" You heard your boyfriend's voice call out to you and you hummed as you drag your eyes away from his hands with a blush. A confused look passed across his face as he started at your flustered face.
"Everything ok?" You were quick to nod not wanting to let Lando into your dirty thoughts. He hesitated but let it be as he nodded going back to his phone. You tried to keep your thoughts at bay this time as you drew your attention to the tv. The distraction helped too until you felt a hand reach for your thigh, thumb rubbing in circles and you took a deep breath as Lando tightened his grip slightly. Ignoring the feeling of his hand on your body you tried to understand the story line of whatever you were watching until you felt Lando's hand begin to move more, running up and down your thigh seemingly innocent. Your eyes darted to where his hand sat, seeing the way his veins were more prominent than before, his fingers stretched out and your mind drifted back to those dirty thoughts.
"My hands huh?" His voice made you jump slightly this time, almost forgetting he was there and you were lost in your thoughts. You feigned confusion looking up at him and tilting your head, knowing all to well that your face was flushed and your look faltering.
"That's what got you all flustered before, whats got you blushing now. Right baby?" You wanted to pull a poker face shake your head but you knew the redness of your face would never allow that as you were caught in the act of admiring Lando's hands. So you simply nodded your head, turning it to face the tv once more as you avoided Lando's gaze. You knew he would have that stupid smirk if you looked at him and you were right. His hand grasped your chin and forced you to face him making you see the large smirk on his lips.
"Use your words baby"
"Your hands made me flustered" You didn't think Lando's smirk could grow any more but you were proven wrong.
"And why's that? Were you thinking about them? Them touching you? Making you feel good?" Lando had no shame in his words as his voice lowered huskily, looking you directly in the eyes as he spoke, his thumb stroking your cheek.
"I was" You admitted to him, hoping he wouldn't ask for anymore detail but you were wrong once again.
"Tell me exactly what you were thinking about baby" You swallowed as you avoided his gaze answering in a near whisper.
"Thinking about having your hands on my body, how you use your hands to make me feel good. Your fingers inside of me"
"Well maybe I should make those thoughts a reality, yeah?" Lando waited for your words of consent and once you breathed out a soft yes clothes began getting removed from your body. Once undressed you were pushed down from your seated position on the couch so Lando could place himself above you.
"So gorgeous" He complimented as his eyes raked down your body before he put his lips on yours in a heated kiss. Hands beginning to roam your body, moving down your body stopping to play with your breasts, pinching and squeezing making you let out a moan into Lando's mouth. With a hand now gripping your neck the other continued to make it's way further down your body until it was almost at the spot you wanted most.
"So wet for you baby, after only a few thoughts of my hands" He teased fingers swiping the slick on your folds making you let out a whine. You wanted him inside you, those hands you begun to admire so much more to make you feel good.
"Please Lando" Lando tilted his head as he looked at you, feigning innocence as you had before.
"Please what?" You huffed knowing that he knew exactly what you wanted and he was right, he had worked you up without doing anything but infesting your thoughts.
"Please. I want your fingers inside of me" The look of innocence disappeared in an instance from Lando's face as he winked at you.
"As you wish baby" And with that he was doing just as you desired, your mouth falling open as one finger slipped inside of you. A second was quick to join as Lando worked his magic. Fingers thrusting in and out at a fast pace, curling every now and again as he reached that perfect spot. You didn't try and stop the sounds that were escaping you knowing Lando loved to hear just how good he made you feel.
"You like that? You like how I can make you feel this good just by using my hands?" The hand that you had forgotten was wrapped around your neck tightened as he spoke making you let out a strangled moan of his name.
"Yes, yes, I love it. Please don't stop" You could feel yourself quickly approaching your climax as Lando added another finger into you, his pace never faltering but only getting faster as his long fingers reached that perfect spot inside you each time. Your own hands moved to grab at Lando's shoulders, the moans falling from your lips only becoming louder and louder as you pulled him closer to your body. Knowing you were close Lando added a final finger leaning down to kiss you harshly as you begun to tense.
"Let go for me baby, all over my fingers" With his words you couldn't hold on any longer and you clamped down on Lando's fingers as you came letting him ride you through your high. He removed his finger raising his hand to his awaiting mouth as he sucked his fingers clean.
Fuck. Round two it is then.
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puck-luck · 17 days
Note
forced proximity with jack even though you guys are enemies… so you guys say 👀
lucky lift | jack hughes
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warnings: elevator sex, enemies to FWB, secret pining on jack’s side, hj, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, teasing/general dirty talk (aka i just like writing dialogue) pairing: jack hughes x reader summary: the one when you hook up with your work enemy on a whim wc: 1468
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“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” You hiss. “You know I don’t like this any more than you do.”
To top off a shitty day, in which you had woken up late, spilled coffee on the shirt that you had been waiting to wear all week, and tripped up the stairs in full view of everyone in the office, you were now stuck– nay, you were trapped, cornered, imprisoned– in the elevator with none other than Jack Hughes.
You and Jack had been working at this company for the same amount of time, both of you hired in the same week, trained by the same people, and working on the same projects. You hated each other. You supposed you hated Jack first, but it was only because he made everything so competitive. He claimed he couldn’t help it when your work bestie brought it up to him (much to your chagrin), “because he was an athlete when he was younger.”
In an ideal world, this “athlete” could pry open the doors of the elevator so you could make an escape. Instead, he’s staring at you with an amused smirk on his face while you do all the work.
“Really? I couldn’t tell,” Jack scoffs. 
“Maybe I do hate it more than you,” You bite back. “You seem awfully content over there to watch me do all the work.”
“I called for help,” Jack reminds you. “They said two hours. To me. I don’t remember you offering to call.”
“I didn’t have service,” You say through gritted teeth. 
“Get a better provider,” Jack says in the same tone. 
“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?”
“I think you’re really easy to piss off.” Jack’s smile pulls at the sides of his lips in a way that’s almost endearing, but you also want to wrap your hands around his neck and squeeze.
“I think you–”
“I also think the stain on your shirt from your coffee has gotten worse with the sweat from all your efforts to escape,” Jack interrupts. “Maybe you should take it off.”
The initial surprise that came with his statement turns to anger at his arrogance. “Excuse me?” You exclaim, stalking over to him and whacking his arm. “You’re coming onto me? As if you couldn’t make this situation any worse?”
“We might as well have fun with it,” Jack says with a shrug, shying away from your violent slaps. 
“I don’t even like you,” You point out. “You don’t even like me.”
Jack reaches a hand up and cups your cheek, silencing you. “Does it matter?” 
The weight of his hand against your face and the pure honesty of his tone causes your stomach to turn. You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought of him like that before, but it was rare. It was during the monthly meetings Jack led, when he had to wear more business professional clothing, and he always decided to roll up his sleeves post-meeting and lose the jacket. You usually caught him in the break room brewing his own coffee, focused and straight-faced like he was about to reenter the meeting rather than celebrate its end. 
“No,” You decide. 
You allow him to pull you in, pressing your lips together in a surprisingly gentle kiss. You never thought Jack was the kind to savor something, but here you were. He’s slow with his movements, his fingers trailing over your curves and ridges like he’s trying to map your body. 
“You’re going too slow,” You complain, palming the front of his dress pants. You fit your hand on his bulge, rubbing over it until he lets out a moan. “Let’s speed things up.”
“I want to enjoy this,” Jack mumbles and you can barely hear him.
“You will,” You tell him, unzipping his pants and reaching into his boxers. You circle your hand around his dick, pumping him from base to tip, using his precum to make the glide smoother. 
“No,” Jack groans and tilts his head back. “I want to enjoy this.”
You pause your movements. “What do you mean?”
“I–” Jack bucks his hips up into your hand, your grip loose around him while you wait for him to explain. “You’re just so pretty when you’re mad at me.”
“Oh,” You breathe out. 
“And you’re mad at me all the time,” Jack whines. He pushes you against the wall of the elevator, leaning in to leave kisses along your neck. He sucks at the underside of your jaw, leaving a cool circle of saliva when he trails his lips lower. “Wanted to fuck you for so long now, Y/N.”
He presses his hips into your body, your hand still trapped in his pants. You remove it as his hands cover the back of your thighs and he lifts you up, you immediately circling your legs around his waist. He uses one hand to push his pants down, his belt clinking against the floor as the fabric pools around his feet. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth and causing him to groan. Jack pulls your skirt up and moves your panties to the side, movements quick now that he admitted his secret to you.
He presses himself inside of you, feeding his cock into your tight, wet cunt. 
“Feels so good,” Jack whispers. “So tight, baby. So wet.”
“Fuck me, Jack,” You tell him, voice strong. “Need you to fuck me.”
“Gonna,” Jack agrees with a moan, rolling his hips sensually. 
Jack steps forward until he can hold you up against the wall and push one leg so your ankle rests on his shoulder. He turns and gives your ankle a kiss, then bows his head to watch himself enter you to a rhythm that only he knows. Jack moves like he’s drunk on the feeling of you, soft noises falling from his lips like he’s trying not to be too loud. You can almost feel the elevator shaking with his movements.
“Not gonna last,” Jack chokes out, clutching at your waist. 
“Gonna come in me?” You tease, nipping at Jack’s earlobe.
Jack lets out a high keen, his mouth falling open and his eyelids fluttering shut as your entrance flutters around him, causing him to come undone inside of you. His breaths come out as stuttered as his thrusts do, his come warm inside you and leaking out when he draws himself out of you. 
Jack keeps you pressed against the wall of the elevator, but lowers himself to his knees.
“Gonna clean you up,” Jack promises. Your thighs rest on his shoulders, your ankles crossed behind his back. His hands pull at your ass cheeks, kneading them. 
“J,” You whimper when Jack attaches his lips to your entrance. He moans against your hole, flicking his tongue against your hole like a dog drinking from a bowl of water. He nuzzles his face into your cunt and brings a hand around to rub your clit in quick circles.
“Y’look so good,” Jack praises, his eyes so big and blue from where they look up at you. “You gonna come? Gonna mix us together, give me something to really enjoy?”
“Oh,” You exclaim, your fingers lacing into Jack’s hair. Your hips buck against his face and he slips a finger into your hole, pushing it in and out of you and curling it as he laps at your clit. “Fuck, Jack, just like that.”
Miraculously, he listens to you and only intensifies his actions, pumping a second finger into you.
You choke on a wail as you come on his fingers, the climax causing your head to fall back against the wall of the elevator with force. Jack stifles a laugh, but continues to lick at your come (and his own) until you’re removing your hands from his hair and trying to get your feet back on solid ground.
“You know, I like you like this,” Jack teases, fixing your panties for you and moving your skirt back to its original position. He pulls his own pants up when he rises, tucking himself away and buckling his belt with his very talented fingers. “All fucked out.”
“If anything, I’m the one who fucked you,” You bite back. “You came first and you ate your own come out of me."
“Mmm, next time I’ll leave it inside of you,” Jack says with a short kiss to your neck, adjusting the collar of your blouse. His hand ghosts over your neck and he feels the way your breath hitches. “Maybe we should get to the office early one day and I’ll bend you over my desk. You’ll have to walk around all day, feeling my come drip out of you. You’ll be begging me to clean you up then.”
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note: ugh office enemies is a trope that i need in my life. if i'm going to be a slave to the work force i am going to fuck my hot enemy jack hughes whenever i can!
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quin-ns · 1 year
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Invisible String (Joel Miller x Reader)
Word count: 3K
Summary: bill and frank host. tess is jealous. joel is confronted with his feelings. you cry over a shower
Tags: 2007 (as seen in ep3), age gap, protective!joel, jealousy, tess isn’t painted in a bad light but she gets her feelings hurt a lil, angst, joel being emotionally suppressed, everyone hiding their emotions actually no one copes normally, emotional hurt/comfort, hugs, pining!joel, hugs, fluff
Request: anon: “hello! i am totally obsessed with your work! i was womdering, if you still take requests, if you can write a joel x reader fic where the reader has a tough exterior with everyone, including Joel, but he knows how sensitive and delicate she is on the inside and behind closed doors. picture this for reference: she had warm water at bill and frank's and she started sobbing uncontrollably, but in front of joel she will always deny she doesn't feel depressed and emotional, but he knows better that this and they both help each other to open up.”
Request: anon: “loved your first joel fic!! if you’re okay with requests can you do another joel fic where maybe tess is jealous of how joel softens around the reader? like he’s not really an affectionate guy but with her he is and tess realizes how he feels about the reader? maybe they’re at frank and bills house and she knows joel doesn’t want to stay but for the reader he will? or something like that it’s up to you- you’re the writer after all”
A/N: so since both of these requests included joel being soft for the reader and them being at bill and franks, I decided to combine them. I liked both concepts and I thought mixing them would lead to something interesting. I feel like there’s more to this story so if y’all want a part two lmk
Cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • writing masterlist
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When you, Joel, and Tess first met Bill and Frank, none of you had any idea how you’d end up feeling about the two men.
Frank had allowed the three of you to enter their isolated town and introduced them both (okay, nice enough), and then Bill had pointed a gun at you (not so nice). Why you? No particular reason other than that you were his closest target. From that moment Joel wasn’t a fan.
“If you’re gonna point that thing at someone, point it at me. Not at her,” Joel said sternly, his hardened gaze fixed on Bill. The two stared one another down for a moment as Bill quickly identified Joel’s weakness. Tess looked at Joel, working hard to hide the frustration on her face.
He obliged, turning the gun onto Joel.
“Bill,” Frank said softly yet firmly.
Bill glanced at Frank, who was silently asking him to relent. Bill lowered the gun with a huff.
With the hostility out of the way, or at least set aside for the moment, Frank offered you an apologetic smile.
“Would you like to see our home?” he asked as a peace offering.
“We’d love to,” Tess answered at the same time as Joel, who said—
“We actually should be going.”
You didn’t say anything, which caused them both to look at you. Tie breaker.
Tess had a feeling you’d agree with her, but what happened next still bothered her.
You and Joel exchanged a look, having a silent conversation. Joel registered that despite the gun incident, you weren’t fearful. It was only because of that that Joel looked at Frank and nodded.
“Alright,” he changed his answer.
Tess wanted to scream.
Frank seemed relieved and his smile grew. He led the three of you to the large white house that the two men called their home.
“You’re welcome to anything in the house,” Frank said kindly, ignoring the disapproving grunt that came from Bill. “Clothes, medicine, water, food—although Bill will be starting dinner soon—and of course the shower,” he listed off.
Your ears perked up at “shower.” Joel could tell by the way you actually lifted your head. Just a day ago you had been reminiscing on how long it had been since you felt clean. Like, really clean. Hot water, soap, soft towel—you longed for it and Joel knew that.
Frank noticed too. “Shower it is.”
“Thank you,” you said immediately. “For being so kind and sharing your home with us.”
“If I’m being honest, I’ve been bugging Bill for us to find some friends,” Frank admitted to you quietly. “Speaking of which,” he started. “Bill? Maybe you could get our other guests some drinks? I’m going to show—“ he looked back at you.
“Y/N,” you filled in.
“—Y/N to the shower,” Frank finished.
You didn’t hear what Bill had to say, but that was the least of your concern as Frank gestured for you to follow him.
Joel watched as you followed Frank away. He itched to go after you, not comfortable with you being apart from him. He felt incredibly protective over you and maybe it wasn’t the healthiest reaction, but he didn’t like to let you out of his sight. It scared him—not that he’d ever admit it.
“Don’t worry, I think she’ll survive without you,” Tess said sarcastically, smothering the genuine bitterness she felt at the man’s reaction. Joel was never like this before. Well, before you.
Joel threw her a glance, but didn’t say anything. Bill was approaching them and grumpily suggested they follow him into the kitchen.
They all made casual conversation, Tess doing most of the talking.
Upstairs, Frank was showing you to the shower. He’d given you a towel and found you soap, shampoo, and conditioner.
“Thank you so much,” you said yet again. Frank just laughed it off and told you no worries, and that if you needed anything you could just call for him.
You closed the door, isolating yourself in the bathroom. You turned on the water and held your hand under it until it was warm. A smile spread across your face. You quickly stripped and stepped under the water, longing for the feel of a hot shower.
It was everything you had hoped for. You relished in the hot water rushing over your tired body.
You prided yourself on being tough—like not even flinching when Bill pulled his gun on you—but something about the comfort that reminded you of the old world brought tears to your eyes. Their house was so normal. Nothing like the wilderness, the destroyed towns, or even the QZ. You were only a child when the pandemic happened, but you held onto a few fond memories. You never felt at home in the QZ.
The only thing that made it feel comfortable and safe was Joel, but this was still so much better than the QZ. It was overwhelming.
Next thing you knew, a sob of happiness broke free. And once it started you couldn’t stop.
In the kitchen, Bill was standing at the stove cooking. Joel didn’t know what it was—but it smelled delicious. Frank had excused himself to set up a table outside so everyone could eat together in the nice weather.
“Sorry, by the way,” Bill announced, off topic from the previous discussion. He didn’t look up from his task of sautéing onions as he spoke. “For the uh, gun thing. Can’t be too careful.”
Tess and Joel looked at one another. They both suspected Frank must’ve said something to convince him to apologize. But beyond that, they both thought back to the incident. A flash of anger shot through Joel at the memory of the weapon being targeted at you. Tess remembered how reckless Joel had been, asking Bill to turn the gun on him. Would he really trade his life for yours? Once Tess started thinking about that, she couldn’t stop.
She started to become quiet during the conversation, which was pretty much when the talking fizzled out. Joel wasn’t very talkative, and clearly neither was Bill.
“I’m gonna go see if Frank needs help,” Bill decided after a few minutes. Joel and Tess exchanged a look. Obviously he just wanted away from them for a moment of relief—he wasn’t anticipating having to be social and wasn’t too happy with it.
Once they had a moment alone, Joel had a feeling Tess was going to unleash. It had been building up, Joel could tell her mood had turned sour.
“What was that?” she asked vaguely. Joel furrowed his brows. “Earlier,” she clarified.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Joel stated. He had an inclination, but he was hoping Tess would drop it.
She didn’t. “You asked him to point a gun at you!” Tess said in a hushed yell, frustration seeping out in her scolding tone.
“He wasn’t going to shoot me,” Joel deadpanned.
“He wasn’t going to shoot at all,” Tess confirmed. “So then why did you tell him to turn it on you?”
She was pushing for an answer she didn’t want, but now that she had started Tess wasn’t going to let up. She was stubborn like that.
“I didn’t like him pointing a gun at Y/N,” Joel admitted. The memory of it made him clench his fist. Tess didn’t see that, but she saw the way Joel wouldn’t hold her gaze.
Her jaw clenched. “You’re too soft on her.”
At that, Joel scoffed. The sound came out before he could stop it. “How is that being too soft on her?”
Tess was quiet for a moment, contemplating her next words. “It’s not just that,” she said, quieter, almost distant. It was a contrast to how loud she’d been getting.
Joel took a deep breath through his nose, then let out a heavy sigh. He finally looked Tess dead in the eye. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”
If it wasn’t for the desperate look on Tess’s face, he would’ve gotten up and walked away. She wasn’t done. She was struggling to say what she wanted to say, and Joel didn’t want her to.
“The moment she came into our lives, that was it,” Tess told herself just as much as she was saying it to Joel.
She was backing Joel into a corner. “Where is this coming from?” he questioned.
Tess let out a humorless laugh. “This has been a long time coming,” she confessed. “I see the way you look at her, how you act around her. She’s just about half your age and yet you always seem to find something in common. You cut me out, Joel.”
Joel was at a loss of words. He couldn’t seem to find the words to defend himself. Tess continued.
“We’ve been in that scenario before, do you remember? When you and I were making a trade and the punk pointed a gun at me?” Tess recalled. Joel recovered the memory quickly, and he began to zero in on exactly why this meant so much to Tess. “You never would’ve considered trading yourself for me. I know because you didn’t.”
“That was different,” was all Joel could come up with.
“I never would’ve made you choose between me and her, but you did on your own,” Tess held firm. Her jaw clenched as she fought to not let herself get any more emotional. “And you chose her. I see that now.”
“Tess,” Joel started, but she shook her head.
“Don’t try to lie to me. Please.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Joel said. He wasn’t even sure what he was planning on saying before. This had all come out of nowhere. At least for him, Tess had clearly had this on her mind for a long while and today just happened to be the final straw. “I’m sorry,” he decided, but it was too little too late.
Tess liked you. She really did. And you hadn’t done anything on purpose. You probably didn’t even know the effect you had on Joel. That’s what made being jealous of you so hard. She wanted to not like you, to blame you for stealing any ounce of affection Joel allowed himself to have, but she couldn’t.
She cleared her throat. “I’m going to go check and see if they need any help setting up outside.” The sudden calmness was eerie. Joel looked at her cautiously. “We’re going to just… drop this,” Tess decided. “And we can all try and have a nice time together, eat a real meal, take hot showers, and relax for the night before we head out in the morning.”
Suppression. Tess was going to bottle everything up. Ignore it and move on. It was something her and Joel had in common.
She left him then, and Joel felt no desire to go after her. He felt guilty about that, but he had nothing left to say to Tess about that and she’d concluded her piece.
Instead, Joel found himself leaving the kitchen table. He followed the sound of running water upstairs. You’d been in the shower for a while and there was a nagging feeling in Joel’s chest that longed to find you.
His feet carried him to the bathroom door, where he knew you still were.
Joel heard a sad, gasping sound from you. It was nearly drowned out, but he heard it. Concern overwhelmed him in an instant.
Joel pressed his ear to the door. He almost busted in, but wanted to take a moment. And it was good he did. What he had first thought were sounds of distress, was actually you muffling cries of relief. He could tell. He wasn’t sure how—maybe it was the tone, or the softness to the sounds, or he just knew you too well—but he could tell.
His hand reached for the doorknob. Joel grasped it and contemplated turning it. He leaned the side of his head against the door.
“Y/N?” Joel called through the door. He went blank over what else to say. Should he ask if you were alright? Would you be weirded out if he asked to come in? You were showering after all. Instead he said nothing.
You went silent. Joel felt bad now. You were never emotional around anyone, you tried to hide it from him. Joel wished you wouldn’t. But he supposed you were just following by example.
“Yeah?” you asked.
“Um,” Joel stalled. “I was just checking on you.”
“Oh, um, I'm alright,” you replied. A few seconds of quiet passed. “Thank you, though.”
Joel listened to the sound of water rushing from the shower. You’d stopped your tears it seemed, but Joel could hear the quiver in your voice when you’d spoken.
“It’s okay if you’re not,” Joel told you carefully.
“I’m fine, Joel,” you assured.
When Joel first met you, you were innocent despite the dark world and wore your heart on your sleeve. You used to express yourself emotionally, but now Joel couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you let yourself break.
You’d gotten better about hiding it. He wanted to help you open up, but that was something even he struggled to do.
Joel went down the stairs and to the living room. No one else was in the house, he could see out the window that Frank was showing Tess around their garden while Bill was setting up the food.
Joel sat on the couch and thought over your interaction through the door. He wished he would have waited for you to come out of the bathroom to talk to you, to make sure you were okay, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Because then he’d have to explain himself as to why and after the conversation with Tess, he feared how you’d react to the knowledge of his feelings.
As if on cue, there were light steps descending down the stairs. Joel turned to look at you.
Your hair was damp, and you were wearing an oversized clean shirt that must’ve come from one of the hosts (Frank was the nicer one, so Joel guessed it was him who lent you it) and a pair of jeans that you’d packed that you hadn’t worn yet.
“Hi,” you greeted.
“Hey,” Joel said, watching you as you moved over to him. “Everyone else is outside.”
“I see that,” you said lightly. “Is everything okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Joel asked.
You shrugged. “I thought I heard arguing earlier. You and Tess,” you explained. “Bathroom is right above the kitchen…”
A brief moment of unease filled Joel. “What all did you hear?”
“No words clearly, just Tess raising her voice,” you revealed. Joel just gave you a slight nod. He had a feeling that wasn’t the only thing you had to say. “Did you, um… hear me earlier?”
Joel knew instantly what you meant. “No.” He hated lying to you. “Yes.”
“I thought so. I just”—you searched for your words—“I’m fine. That was just—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself.”
You swallowed and took a breath. “I’m not weak.”
Joel let out a small huff. “I know that.” That fact that you thought you had to tell him was amusing in an odd way. He was well aware.
“Well, alright then,” you said decidedly. “It’s just been so long since we’ve had hot water and—“
“You don’t have to explain yourself. You’re allowed to feel,” Joel reminded. “I know you. You’re strong. But you’re also a good, sweet, caring person and I just”—Joel sighed, struggling for his words even as they were tumbling out—“I don’t want to see you go numb to the world. I don’t want you to end up like me.”
You looked at him curiously. He stood for some reason, it felt more natural for him. Your eyes held his on his way up. “You’re not numb, Joel,” you told him, sounding so sure of yourself. “I don’t think that. I think you put on a brave face just like I do. Although I guess I’m not as good at hiding it as I thought.”
A small laugh left you as you shook your head.
“What?”
“It’s just been so long since I talked about… feelings,” you admitted.
“Same here,” Joel agreed.
“It’s weird, isn’t it? I shouldn’t be, but it is.”
Joel got an idea. He hoped it wasn’t a bad one. “Maybe we can… help each other with that. Y’know, find a way to talk about it.”
You gave him a gentle smile. Before Joel could process, you were wrapping your arms around him and clinging to him in a hug. It was a sudden, unfamiliar movement. Joel held you against his body, resting his chin on your head.
“That’s a good idea,” you told him, your voice muffled against him.
Joel hadn’t touched, let alone held, someone in so long. It was nice. Mostly because it was you.
The sound of a door opening and heavy steps alerted you, causing you and Joel to part from one another. Frank approached the two of you with a welcoming smile on his face.
“Dinners ready,” he informed, looking between the both of you.
“Seriously, we cannot thank you enough, Frank,” you said kindly. He gestured towards the door in an “after you” manner. You gave him a smile and headed outside. Before you stepped out, you gave Joel one last grateful look.
There was a slight smile on Frank’s face as he looked at Joel, who hadn’t moved yet.
“It’s nice to have someone in a world like this, isn’t it?” Frank asked in a sincere tone.
Joel looked out the window towards the garden where you joined the table. You smiled at the sight of the food and took a seat.
After having a whole conversation about allowing feelings, Joel decided that he didn’t want to suppress the small smile of appreciation that crossed his own face.
“Yeah, it is,” Joel answered.
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starting a joel taglist, if you’d like to be on it lmk through an ask or message!
joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose
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