#but the mad dogs will force him to like them
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The Dumpster Behind the Club - Eren Jaeger
You and Eren are out to a club with friends and you got drunk and accidentally flashed someone with your boobs. Eren is now upset and is aggressively fucking you outside the club.
3k words
18+ Only Minors do not interact
“Take it, you dumb fucking whore,” Eren drawled out as he aggressively fucked the inside of your mouth.
Tears were streaming down your face. Your makeup was ruined. Your hair was a mess and your drenched cunt was dripping wet on the asphalt outside. Saliva dribbled from the side of your mouth as you struggled to catch your breath from Eren mercilessly using your mouth as his personal fleshlight. And it was making you so horny.
Though I suppose that this is what you wanted from the beginning. Eren and you had been a couple for a few months now and had decided to spend this Saturday night at a club downtown with your friends. I jumped at the invitation, greatly needing this outing as your new job has been keeping you fairly busy these last few weeks. It was also cutting into the quality time you spent with Eren.
His love language is physical touch.
So naturally, he wasn’t very enthused about my jam-packed work days.
I guess I should rewind to how I got into this predicament in the first place.
Recently, we haven’t been able to get much alone time together- and I can tell it's been frustrating him. Being able to have sex twice a day used to be the norm for us, now, we’re lucky if we have enough time/energy to do it three times a week. For someone who was as horny as Eren, that was a big shift to deal with. And he already had a brash, and aggressive personality, but this just made it worse.
“You’ve been denying me these for days, but had no problem flashing them to a group of random men?” Eren growled as he continued to fuck your skull, but this time he had one hand tightly squeezing your breast as he fondled your taut nipple between his rough fingers.
You tried to respond but could only gag on his dick, as snot began to bubble from your nose. Eren stuffed his cock so far down your throat that you couldn’t even breathe.
You didn’t have a high liquor tolerance, and you’re a horn dog when you drink, so it only took a few drinks for you to feel as frisky as a cat in heat. The red mini dress you wore was only secured by a thin piece of fabric that wrapped around your neck to tie in a halter. It felt like it was a little loose so you went to the bathroom to fix it, with Eren tagging along with you.
There was a group of guys standing near the bathroom and unfortunately, you would have to walk past them. They all ogled me as I walked by, and one of them was about to open their mouth to say something, but I saw him look above me before closing his mouth and giving a brief nod.
I spun my head around to see Eren giving a death stare to the entire group, looking like he was ready to take someone’s head off if they dared to say or do anything to me.
Eren was an intimidating man. Sure he was beautiful, but his aura was powerful and with his domineering personality, it wasn’t hard for him to command rooms and receive respect everywhere we go together.
But I was so caught up in the thoughts that I didn’t feel when the straps of my dress suddenly fell and my tits bounced as they were free from their thin restraint. I quickly went to cover my breasts but it was too late. The guys had already seen it, based on the lewd looks on their faces. They got more than enough for their imaginations. I felt so embarrassed.
“Oh my gosh, I-” I started to say, but a hand suddenly shot out and grabbed my upper arm dragging me away with an unprecedented level of force.
I looked up to see Eren with his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw clenched as he sunk his fingers deep into my arm and dragged me further out of the club. I caught a glint of his green eyes and he looked mad as hell.
“Eren stop, you’re hurting me,” I said trying to wiggle out of his grip but it was no use.
“Shut the fuck up!” He barked over the loud music as he shuffled me across the dance floor, towards the back where I saw a large black door with an emergency exit sign lit up above it.
He opened the door which led to outside, behind the club where it was pretty dark and secluded. Two large dumpsters were back here and despite the graffiti art, they were pretty well kept and looked relatively clean.
“What the hell is your problem?” I asked trying to pull my arm from his grasp. “Are you angry because my dress fell? God Eren, it was an accident! You don’t really think that I purposely-”
“Yes I do,” He firmly stated as green eyes darkened. He began slowly stalking towards me, effectively trapping me between the wall and him. He stared down at me as if I was his last meal. And I saw that fire in his eyes…I know that look all too well.
He suddenly leaned down to place his lips right next to my ear.
“I do think that you would purposely pull your dress down in front of a group of men just to rile me up because I know you’re that much of a fucking whore.” He said huskily in my ear.
My pussy immediately began clenching as I heard him say that. A shiver ran from my nape all the way down my spine to my pussy and I swear it felt like I was zapped with electricity. I suddenly felt bashful, and I knew that my face was as red as a tomato so I didn’t even dare to look him in the eyes. But Eren wasn’t going to allow me that respite.
“Get on your knees.” He said as he leaned away from me to unbutton his jeans.
“Ere-”
“Get on your fucking knees, now!” He said menacingly as he gripped a firm hand around my neck.
The sound of his voice was enough to make anyone unable to resist his commands. Besides, you knew better than anyone that Eren doesn’t take disobedience lightly. His domineering gaze never faltered as he watched you slowly kneel on the concrete ground. The feeling of tiny rocks piercing your skin was painful but not as painful as the ache between your legs was. If Eren didn’t give you some sort of relief soon, you felt that you were about to explode.
He slowly reached his hand up to gently cup your chin in his hand and rubbed his thumb over your plump lips. How can one person be so damn attractive?
“Keep it open,” Eren directed as he squeezed my cheeks together until I felt my mouth was forced open.
He moved his hand from my face to pull down his briefs and let his cock spring up. I let out a heavy sigh through my parted lips as I greedily stared at his cock. My core became wetter every second as I felt the alcohol soar through my bloodstream - adding even more pleasure to my already euphoric state.
Eren was a big man, so naturally, his dick would have to correlate to his size. And boy did it not disappoint!
I can’t tell you exactly what its size is. But I do know it has to be at least 7 inches. And with very impressive girth as well! His dick has a little upward curve to it that never failed to hit that sweet spot inside of me. Eren was the only man to ever make me cum through just vaginal stimulation. And he was cocky as hell about it too. Always bringing up how no one else will ever be able to fuck me as good as he can. To be honest, he’s probably right.
He gripped the back of my hair to pull me closer to him. He grabbed the base of his cock and slid in past my parted lips, immediately hitting the back of my throat and making me gag and want to pull back, but Eren was having none of that as he forced my head to stay still as I took his entire length in my mouth.
He held it there for about ten seconds before he finally pulled out and I gasped for air; coughing as my breath finally became free. Eren sexily groaned as he pulled out. His eyes closed as he panted. He caught his breath before opening his eyes to stare into mine again. That freedom didn’t last long though. Eren grabbed my head again, and with both hands this time, he began aggressively fucking my skull with an insane level of speed.
“Take it, you dumb fucking whore!” He menacingly growled as he looked down at me. Well, that was a short recap of how I got myself here in the first place.
Him fondling my breasts was enough to make me loudly moan around his cock, the vibrations of it giving him visible chills. I took a quick peak up at him and oh, how I wished I could frame the wicked smile was was plastered across his face. He was enjoying himself so much.
“You love this don’t you?” He asked condescendingly. “Nowhere you’d rather be than to be guzzling down my cock on the side of a dumpster, right baby? Look at you, your pussy juices are dripping on the ground how desperately you want me.”
I gave a muffled affirmation as I held onto his thighs tightly to steady myself as he continued his brutal assault on my throat. The filthy words he was saying to me also edged me on even more. I loved when he got aggressive like this.
Eren and I have been together long enough for him to know me like the back of his hand. He knew that I loved being treated like a princess, just as much as I loved being degraded by him like a cheap whore.
His pace picked up as my eyes became glassy and his breathing became erratic. The sounds that were coming from my lips were absolutely sinful. The gushing and that garbling of my spit, mixed with his precum was spread all over my face and the top of my breasts. I knew wouldn’t be able to last much longer like this. I was starting to get lightheaded due to the lack of oxygen.
Sensing this, Eren quickly pulled my head off his cock and spun me around so that I was pressed against the brick wall. I felt his dick piercing into my back as he used his large hands to continue massaging my breasts while he moaned pure filth into my ears.
“You’re Daddy's nasty fucking girl, aren't you?” He said nibbling on my ear. “I knew sucking me off in the back of a dumpster would make you so fucking wet.”
“Yes Daddy,” I moaned, throwing my head back as he reached down to give my ass a hard squeeze before reaching his fingers to my core. He spread my pussy lips before rubbing a finger up and down my clit.
I felt my knees buckle from the slight touch, and I heard Eren chuckle as he brought his finger up to see the amount of wetness on it. He barely touched me and my slickness dripped from his finger onto the floor. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this horny in my life.
“Look at how much you’re feigning for me baby,” He said rubbing his thumb over his index finger with my cum in it. “I barely even touched you yet.”
“Daddy please,” You begged as he began rubbing your folds again.
“Please what?” He replied darkly.
“Fuck me.”
That was all he needed to hear, and he wasted no time scrunching up my dress to my waist and ripping my panties off of me. I was in such a turned-on state that I didn’t even care. I felt him shuffle himself a bit more behind me for a few seconds before I felt the tip of his cock prodding at my entrance and I let out a cry of pleasure as I turned to look at him over my shoulder.
“Oh fuck,” He hissed as he slowly pushed into my slick. Feeling every ridge and pulsation that my pussy had to offer. “You’re so fucking tight baby, you’re swallowing me up.”
I couldn’t even say anything coherent in response to him. My brain had been turned into mush as I languished in the feeling of Eren being inside me. His dick stretched me so painfully, yet so deliciously good. I felt him slowly pull out, leaving just his head in before he rammed back into me, jolting me forward and pressing my face against the wall.
He roughly adjusted my body so that my ass was sticking out towards him, with my hands pressing against the wall. He laughed as he gave my ass a hard smack before pumping into me again.
“Oh God, Eren!” I cried out as he began pumping into me like a jackrabbit. The lewd slapping sounds from his hips meeting my ass with every thrust was transporting me to cloud nine.
He suddenly took one hand to push my face firm against the wall. The other had a harsh grip on my waist as he dominated my pussy; occasionally he’d let go of my waist to issue hard slaps on my ass cheeks that I'm positive would leave marks.
“If you could only see how your pussy is gripping my dick right now, you’d cum in a second,” Eren grunted in your ear, never once letting his thrust’s speed falter. “I should’ve fucked you like this in front of those guys back there. Let them see how much you love to take my dick, and let them see how wet you get for me.”
“Only for you Daddy,” I mewled out as I felt myself creep closer to my release.
“That’s right baby, only for me,” Eren grunted as his thrusts started to become slower but much more forceful. He stopped pressing my head into the wall and moved his fingers down to my clit to play with it.
I tried to move my hand to his hips to make him go a little gentler, but he roughly pushed my hand away before quickly grabbing my arm and pinning it behind my back.
“You know I don't know mercy, baby girl,” Eren growled out menacingly as his thrusts got even more violent. “You’re going to take everything I have to give.”
Your vision started to go white as your eyes were squeezed shut. Your toes curled before letting out a euphoric scream. Eren was fucking you like he hated you. Every thrust had your whole body jerking forward, yet you ran back to his dick every time because you knew he was the only one who could fuck you the way you loved. That combined with what his fingers were doing to you…you knew you weren’t going to last for much longer.
“Eren, I-I’m gonna cum!” You cried out as your pussy began to tighten.
“Fuck, I feel it, baby, “ Eren said through gritted teeth as his thrusts began to become sporadic. “Keep squeezing my dick like that, oh fuck.”
Both of you were now panting excessively. Eren’s face was flushed red as his eyes were locked on watching his dick move in and out of your tight hole. A frothy white substance began to form due to you guys’ lewd activities, but all of this just turned Eren on even more.
He knew you were about to cum any second now so he began massaging your clit even more before you felt the thread finally snap and you came undone on his cock. Your pussy relaxing and contracting around his dick as you loudly rode out your orgasm. Based on the sounds Eren was making, he was right behind you.
“FUCKKK!” He roared and his hip stuttered in you before he released everything he had in you.
You felt his cock shooting him warm seed in your womb - filling you to the brim with it. Eren was panting heavily as you felt his cock go limp inside you. He had his arms wrapped around your waist, and head buried in the crock of your neck as he peppered kisses up and down there. He slowly pulled his dick from you and you shivered at the loss of contact.
Immediately, his and your cum began to leak out of you and Eren quickly dipped two fingers into your pussy before bringing it up to your lips and making you suck in them. You moaned as you tasted the concoction that both of your juices made.
“Delicious, isn’t it” Eren cockily asked while watching your tongue swirl around his fingers.
“Hmmm, the best, as usual,” You said in a sultry tone before giving him a wink. You stood on your tiptoes as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
He grabbed the back of your nape and pulled you in for a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue immediately flew into your mouth as he tasted the flavor of his cum mixed with yours. You moaned into his mouth as you felt him reach his hand down to grab your ass and give it a hard squeeze.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” He breathed into your mouth. “You’re making me want to bend you over again.”
Despite just having an orgasm, your pussy immediately began to pur at those words. Eren knew how to rile you up.
“You’re making me want to let you,” You flirtatiously replied as you grabbed his now-hardening dick in my hand.
“Let me?” He asked incredulously as he chucked before leaning down to stare at me with those intimidating emerald eyes of his. “Your body belongs to me baby girl, and I’ll fuck you whenever I want, wherever I want, however I want.”
Shit.
That was all it took to have my pussy aching for him again as I reached a hand up to wrap around his neck and pull him down for another kiss. Eren was right, deep down I knew I was such a slut for him...
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
~ aot, attack on titan, shingekinokyojin, snk, eren, eren jeager, eren jeager smut, aot smut, snksmut, erensmut, aggressive eren, posessive eren
#aot#eren jaeger#eren yeager#eren smut#aot x black reader#eren x black fem!reader#aot smut#eren jeager#eren jeager smut
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i think snake really was weird in vinland saga. im gonna stick with that opinion
#personal#its not some horribly done revenge story character like tlo*2's characters (zombie universe idf soldier plays ball w war dog. clearly this#should make u less mad she killed our protag/protag's dad) but snake... didnt do anything to amke up for his actions?#maybe i'm an unforgiving asshole lol but i feel like its not bad if einar at least stayed neutral abt him. snake lead to the death of his#love like a week ago lol?? he protects his men and takes care of his grandpa but what does that have to do w einar/arnheid#meanwhile thorfinn is like haunted nightly by his teen crimes and is advocating peace talks to the king for his master's farm#one is definitely doing more than the other lol. snake was never in some complex situation where hes forced to uphold the law#or misunderstood the situation or whatever. he also defended his men who he kinda describes as outcasts but its more bc theyre shitty#im not gonna say criminals but murderers/rapists. why would i respect him helping his men when they threaten a widowed slave woman#idk he didnt make sense... in s1 it felt like u could like characters as characters bc of diff aspects that make them interesting#but our protags are warm in return despite all snake's done lol?? same w kestis but he's not shown as favorably in the end
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Yandere Imposter
Imagine a yandere that pretends to be someone else...
You and your husband hadn't been close in years. A rotten drunkard that spent all day rotting away on the couch. When the two of you got married, you genuinely thought things would be perfect, he was such a sweet guy. But things just went downhill from there.
He was a sleeze bag. Spending all day drinking and refusing to work. Forcing you to get a job to support you both, but he couldn't even bother being somekind of househusband. No, he expected you to get off of work clean the house for him and still cook him dinner everyday. You felt more like his mother than his wife. And it was getting on your last nerve.
So imagine your surprise when you walk into the house one day, the smell of cheap booze and cigarette smoke gone. Instead replaced with the smell of soup?
The place was oddly spotless as you made your way into the kitchen, and there standing at the stove was your husband. Wearing an apron as he stirred the food in the pot. It was unnerving, if you knew anything about your husband it was that he refused to even step foot in the kitchen unless it was to eat. As if sensing your presence, he quickly turned around a smile spreading on his face. Was it just you or were his teeth whiter than usual?
Walking over he wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug, burying his face into your neck. A look of happiness on his face as he held you close.
"I'm so happy you're finally home, Dear. I went ahead and made dinner, you just go sit down and I'll be right over."
Since when had he called you pet names? You couldn't help but check his tempature, wondering if he was running a fever of somekind. Why else would he be acting so out of character suddenly. But he simply laughed off your worry and ushered you towards your seat. Immediantly serving you dinner with a blissful smile, a smile you had never seen on his face. You were so confused...
The night just continued on like that. One weird occurance after another. It felt like you were with a stranger, someone nothing like your husband yet identical to him. You felt like you were going mad, until night eventually came. Bringing you to bed, you and your husband lied down together. Except unlike everynight since your honeymoon, he pulled you closer. Snuggled up next to you as he whispered softly in your ear, almost bringing tears to your eyes.
"I'm so sorry for the way things have been all these years. You never deserved any of it. But as long as I'm here, I'll treat you perfect..."
Edan had always hated his brother. Despite looking identical, they couldn't have been more different. And it felt like his brother was always out to make his life difficult. If Edan got on the football team, his brother was the quaterback. If Edan got a B, his brother got an A. If Edan got honor roll, his brother got valedictorian. And eventually when Edan felt like he had met his soulmate his dear brother had to marry them. He could never win. It was all too much.
Especially when Edan began to take a closer look into the life his brother had stolen away from him. He was disgusted. Working his beloved like a dog day and night. Treating them as nothing more than a servant meant to do whatever was demanded of them, not giving them the life they deserved. The day he snapped came when he saw his beloved leave for work, continuing to stay near the house. He watched as his brother stepped out of the house hours later, walking over to one of the neighboring apartment doors and knocked on it. A scantily clad individual opening the door and ushering him inside. He saw red...
How foolish did that idiot have to be. Stealing away the life that Edan deserved, only to not even appreciate it. He got the privilege to lay beside perfection every night, and he still ran into the arms of some worthless harlot. He couldn't stand it. His beloved didn't deserve this mistreatment, and his brother didn't deserve their love. But what was he supposed to do about it...
He had never been so happy that the two were identical...
All it took was a little makeover and a swap of IDs for the two to look the exact same again. Now if he was ever found, Edan would be dead. He had to clean up all the blood from the floor, he might have gone a bit overboard but years of hatred and frustration will do that to a person.
But it was all worth it in this moment. Holding his beloved close to his chest as the two lay together, it was a dream come true. Burying his face in their hair, he continued to whisper to them, arms wrapped tightly around their body so that they couldn't get up. They never had to know.
" You'll get the life you deserve. We'll both get the lives we deserve, no matter what..."
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Househusband- wanderer
...kinda yandere wanderer..power bottom at the start only..afab and amab reader..also afab and amab wanderer!...found it on a Pinterest acc ASH....
...Wanderer....
Househusband wanderer! who decides the best way to live as a new and reformed person is to lead a more docile life, and what's more docile than staying home all day and tending to your lovely partner?
Househusband wanderer! Who's not a homemaker, he doesn't quite know what to do at times and it becomes overwhelming. Who can't stand doing nothing and constantly has to be doing something.
Househusband wanderer! Who, whenever you try going out to eat something special like a desert, insists that he can do it better!
Househusband wanderer! Who makes your favorite dishes from scratch, Who perfects the recipe by making it a dozen times while you're at work
Househusband wanderer! Who gets mad at you when you spend too much time at work, he doesn't care that your boss specially requested you in fact- why the fuck did your boss request you of all people hm?!
Househusband wanderer! Who you have to ensure that no you wouldn't ever leave him even if your boss had a thing for you- not that he does.
Househusband wanderer! Who's not convinced, you mean there's a chance that your boss does like you?..he won't stand for that.
Househusband wanderer! Who when one day you come back from work after not seeing your boss all day surprises you with a pretty skirt for you to fuck him in!
Househusband wanderer! Who brushes you off when you ask "What's the occasion darlin?" "I'm having a good day..this will make it better."
Househusband wanderer! Who holds onto your hand guiding it up his small skirt just to tease you. You're surprised, he must be having a really good day for him to do this, usually, he's much shyer.
Househusband wanderer! Who will be on his knees after a full day of work in the kitchen just to please you, his beloved.
househusband wanderer! Who'll work his mouth like he does his hands in the kitchen, a bit clumsy but a good end result nonetheless.
[afab reader] househusband wanderer! Who'll lick up all your juices like a hungry dog, he can't get enough, he'll leave soft kisses over your cunt watching as it quivers. "quit being a tease.." you're definitely gonna get him back for this.
[afab reader] househusband wanderer! Who'll leave bite marks and kisses all over your inner thighs, sucking and parting from your skin with a pop! Making sure he's left his mark, this way you'll remember him, this way you'll know that you belong to him as he belongs to you
[afab reader] househusband wanderer! Who whines and almost cums untouched when you get fed up with his teasing and grab his hair, pushing his face right into your cunt
[afab reader] househusband wanderer! Who holds onto your legs leaving scratches all over them as he stays on his knees for however long you want, drowning in you, he's aching and his knees are bruising, but he's relentless to please you
[amab reader] househusband wanderer! Who loves your groans! He leaves teasing kisses up your cock from the base all the way to the tip
[amab reader] househusband wanderer! Who leaves kitten licks on your raging boner, he loves your cock, the way it twitches when he plays with it, looking up at you with such innocent eyes as he toys with you.
[amab reader] househusband wanderer! Who chokes on your cock when you grab his hair, stuffing his mouth full, he loves choking on your cock, moaning against it as you force his head up and down, he swears it's touching the back of his throat!
[amab reader] househusband wanderer! Who swallows all that you give him! Not letting a single drop of your cum reach the ground.
Househusband wanderer! Who shivers gulping down the last of your remains that are left in his mouth when you look down at him with a glare, "Come on baby, think I forgot about your teasing earlier? "
Househusband wanderer! Who immediately crawls onto the bed when you claim it to be your turn.
[afab wanderer] househusband wanderer! Who chokes back sobs as you toy with his soaking pussy, barely pushing the tip of your finger in just to take it right back out
[afab wanderer] househusband wanderer! who sobs and begs you to give him a bit more! This isn't fair!! He didn't mean it! He's sorry!
[afab wanderer] househusband wanderer! whose eyes roll back when you pinch his clit, letting out a cute scream, his hands scramble to hold yours but you just push them down
[afab wanderer] househusband wanderer! whose pussy is soaking wet, his liquids are coating his inner thighs as it pulses for something more it makes such cute squelching sounds as you toy with the cute thing
[afab wanderer] househusband wanderer! Who squirts all over himself the second you stuff a finger in his desperate hole, who whines for you to wait a bit before you stuff him full with another one!
[amab wanderer] househusband wanderer! who cries out for you when your hand keeps circling his red tip, precum drips from it as if it was a broken fountain.
[amab wanderer] househusband wanderer! who's cock quivers at the slightest touch of you, who sobs, fat tears streaming down his face as you blow cold air onto his dick
[amab wanderer] househusband wanderer! Who gets desperate, begging, and pleading with you! He swears he didn't mean to tease you!
[amab wanderer] househusband wanderer! who jerks when you suddenly fist his cock sending shivers up his body! Fuuuck! You're so mean!!
[amab wanderer] househusband wanderer! who's mumbling thanks yous again and again as you finally move your hand, sobbing for you to quicken the pace
[amab wanderer] househusband wanderer! Who shoots cum out like a fountain, spraying all over his stomach, who now starts begging you to slow down "slow down..? But darling, this is what you wanted wasn't it? So quiet down and take it like a good boy."
Househusband wanderer! He cuddles up to you after you're both done, he smiles into your hug, he seems like in a really good mood today..hm.
#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin imagines#genshin hcs#sub genshin#sub genshin men#amab reader#afab reader#wanderer headcanons#wanderer smut#wanderer imagines#wanderer x reader#wanderer#sub wanderer#Scara#scaramouche x you#scara x reader#scaramouche smut#sub scaramouche#scaramouche imagines#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche
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The lower rung of the ladder in my kitchen broke last month and I stuck a little Post-it note on the wall to remind myself to step over the missing rung so I wouldn't break my leg every time I go up or downstairs—but then my mum came to visit and she saw me hopping over the gap in the ladder with practised ease and her face was the definition of "you live like this?" And she went to get a screwdriver to unscrew the ladder from the wall so we could carry it outside and repair it.
Some people see a broken ladder and immediately open a toolbox to fix the problem; some people see a broken ladder and stick a Post-it note to the wall to train themselves to step over the problem forever. (I admit my response is inferior.)
I think I felt daunted at the thought of tinkering with this ladder because it's been here in the same place for over a century and I pictured the whole thing crumbling into dust if we tried to move it—but no, it's still solid, except the lower rung. Which wasn't damaged by time, but by Pandolf. (And some insects. But mostly Pandolf.)
When he was a baby, for a week or so after I took him home, he was extremely upset about having to spend the night in his dog bed in the kitchen while I went upstairs to my bedroom, he would cry and cry and one night in a fit of despair and rage he attacked the ladder. The next morning I found the lower rung (the only one he could reach) looking like it had been attacked by a termite colony, but it was Pandolf's pointy little puppy teeth. By the look of it he'd spent half the night furiously gnawing on it until he dropped from exhaustion—his reasoning was clearly that if he destroyed the ladder, I wouldn't be able to go upstairs anymore and would be forced to spend the night on the floor of the kitchen with him.
It's really hard to be mad at baby Pandolf, though. Go on, try.
Eventually he got used to sleeping in his dog bed and he abandoned his ladder destruction project, but the lower rung has been fragile ever since, and it finally broke last month.
My mum is extremely efficient; she sent me to the barn to find some kind of thick board (you can find anything in the barn if you have a torch and aren't afraid of bats or century-old spiderwebs) and when I came back she had prepared all the tools and taken all the measurements.
The worst part was tapering the sides so the rung would fit in the notches, because if one side was a little bit thinner than the other then it was wobbly—
—plus I used a file at first and it took forever (Pandolf was so bored), but then I remembered I own a sanding machine and it went a lot faster. So much so that my mum said I should make a second rung while I was at it—she was motivated to replace all of them, but then it started raining and we decided the rest of the ladder is solid enough and we'll replace the rungs two at a time.
I always forget that it feels satisfying to fix things! There's this little spark of pride from then on when you look at the repaired thing because you helped make it. I tend to procrastinate because I assume it'll take ages or I'm worried I'll do it wrong, until someone who's more confident with their hands than me goes like "no come on, we just need a saw, a file, a hammer, it'll take an hour tops" and we do it and it's never as difficult as I feared. (My mum: "We gave you a toy toolbox when you were little, to smash sexist stereotypes, and you're afraid of fixing things :( ...") (I cheered her up by reminding her that my brother smashes sexist stereotypes by being also afraid of fixing things.)
But yeah I spent half an hour sanding down the sides of these two lower rungs and now I look at my ladder and remember the delightful feeling of getting the tapering just right and inserting them into their slots effortlessly like a VHS tape into a VCR. I have a whole new affection for my kitchen ladder now.
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buzzcut!coryo being mean bossy and DIRTY and his dogtags slapping the readers face as he fuck her PLEASE I NEED THIS
fucking peacekeeper coryo! is always downright filthy. this is a man with tension, with frustration built up inside of him waiting to be let out and where does all that emotion go?? it fuels him when he’s fucking you, let’s it all out into that sweet little pussy of yours that grips him like a glove. half the time that’s the sole reason he seeks you out - he needs an outlet - and he’s barely even taking the time to prep you before he’s got you face down in whatever surface was closest.
when he does want to drag it out he’s a tease. sits back on his haunches and drags the fat head of his cock up and down your folds, letting it circle around your clit for a second before dipping back down, the tip sinking into you for just a moment before he’s bringing it back out. his favourite is slapping that swollen little nub until you’re jerking around like mad, likes the way the strings of your arousal cling to his cock. when you start to sob, teary eyes gazing up at him coryo just laughs. ‘think you can just turn on the tears and you’ll get what you want, huh?’ he’d tut, hand coming up to close around your throat. ‘my pretty little crybaby. such a whore she cries to get her pussy filled.’
blinking wearily and gone half mad with desperation, your hand would find his cock between your legs, hoping to urge him into you. ‘go on then, baby. let me in,’ coryo would sigh, ultimately giving you what you want - for now - and letting out a fuck when he does enter that wet heat of yours. ‘you’re soaked. such a wet fuckin’ pussy for me, yeah? touch yourself, go on, show me how bad you needed a cock in your cunt.’
‘gonna fuck you stupid,’ he’d say as he came over you, big hands coming down by your head. coryo likes you messy, likes the way your clammy skin sticks to his and how if he pulls back enough he can see the gleam that your pussy is leaving on his dick. seeing that always makes him pick up the pace, makes him bottom out with an extra harsh punch of his hips, abusing that sensitive spot inside of you that makes you blubber nonsense. it’s then that he’d stick his thumb in your mouth, letting you get it all wet before he takes it out, smearing your spit all down your chin.
‘what a messy little slut you are, doll.’ he’s breathing heavy, silver dog tags swinging by your face and something about that, something about seeing him lose some of his precious control has you clenching down on him. ‘you like that don’t you? watch it.’ pulling you into his chest with a rough grip on your nape, you’re forced to watch him bullying his way into you, coming back out with a damp squelching noise that makes your cheeks turn red. the metal of his chain feels cold against your cheek and it’s then that you realise coryos gaze is on that, on his dog tags on your skin.
he’s hasty to pull them off only to put them around your neck instead. his hand finds your throat again, shoving you deeper into the pillows. ‘you’re my girl, aren’t you? all mine and this is my pussy.’ the words are exaggerated with a slow rut of his hips into your spot, a harsh bite to your collarbone. you’d repeat it all back to him, probably too half gone to realise what you’ve said, so desperate to cum. ‘exactly, doll. you’re all for me, no one else. so be a good girl and cum on my cock. show me i’m yours as much as you’re mine.’
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Dream You
BC
Masterlist
wc: 4k
Synopsis: He cheated on you— in your dreams, then took kiss it better too literally.
warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, softdom!chan, light bondage, oral (m receiving), dacryphilia, pretty intensely fluffy they just rly love each other
☆ﾟ
4,000 followers! enjoy this lil idea as a thank you. i appreciate you!
You. Needed. Affection.
Just affection, and loads of it from one person in specific. Mostly because you were pretending to be mad at him and it made you miss him even more. Chan rarely makes you mad, he’s always good about communicating and listening, so the fact that you were mad at him and he didn’t even know why threw him off a little.
So there you were, sat on the couch wrapped in one of his hoodies eating straight out of the ice cream tub because you were too upset to do anything but count the seconds until he got home. You weren’t answering his texts, you picked up his call because you accidentally pressed the wrong button out of muscle memory and Chan could tell through the phone that today was just not a good day.
When he came home and found you sitting in the same spot that you were in when he called you– he knew this because you described it exactly as it looked, Chan almost collapsed at how cute you were. You had this ruffle in your brow and his hoodie looked like it was threatening to drown you in the black material. Gnawing on the spoon, your chest rumbled a little as Chan smiled his dimply smile and reached for the tub of ice cream to take away. “You doing okay, baby?” He chuckled trying to pop the spoon out of your mouth, wriggling it back and forth and swaying your head until you decided to let go.
“No, I’m mad at you,” there wasn’t much bite to the statement.
Chan pecked your forehead and ventured off to put the ice cream away, “oh yeah? Wanna tell me why so I can fix it?” He returned to stand behind you and lean over the back of the couch, wrapping his arms around your neck and nuzzling his cheek into the top of your head.
Upset but still wanting the physical touch, you pulled his arms tighter, “dream you cheated on me.”
He popped his head around the side of yours to come face to face with a look of genuine shock. “Did he?!” Chan hopped over the back of the couch to sit next to you.
“Yeah. I caught you in our bed and everything. Then you broke up with me and posted the bitch on your instagram the next day.” You huffed and pushed him away with no force, turning to lean on the armrest and lay your legs over his lap. Chan rested his head on your knees, looking at you with his big puppy dog eyes that never failed to make you melt.
“I thought I taught him better than that,” he gently scolded. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Is that why you didn’t kiss me back when I left this morning?
You nodded. “And why you weren’t answering my texts?” Another nod. “And why you can’t look at me because you know how ridiculous that sounds?”
You were half way through nodding for a third time when you caught his words, “hey! It’s not ridiculous! It could be a premonition, I could be psychic and get into fortune telling with how accurate I am.”
Chan closed his eyes and let his hands wander up and down your calves, lightly dragging his lips across the bare skin of your knees as he spoke, “mhm, mhm. Or it means that it’s never gonna come true. I like to think that, instead.”
It was getting harder to be mad when the feeling of his breath fanning over your skin made goosebumps rise, he loved watching the way your body reacted to him. It was never hard for him to work you up, physically and emotionally. Chan thrived on the effect he has over you, but it’s a two way street and you live for the way he’d do anything to please you. Even if it means apologizing for something he didn’t really do. In this reality, at least.
You wanted to be mad so bad that you debated on throwing him off you entirely, however his lips were just too plush looking and you craved to feel them on your own. Chan took his time to work them higher up your legs, eventually laying them and sticking his head under the hem of his hoodie you wore. He tugged you to lay flat so he could have more area to trace his pretty lips cross, the thoughts of being upset almost totally dissipating under his touch. Your leg instantly wrapped around his torso, to which he grinded lightly into the cushion. His hair tickled your bare chest as he peppers kisses across your belly, hands roaming your back to keep you near. He didn’t move as sexually as one might’ve thought from an outside perspective, it wasn’t to get into your nonexistent pants, you just got him so horny.
So horny to the point where he would’ve kept grinding against the couch if you didn’t feel like relieving him, he would’ve taken it like a champ if you denied him. You never do, though, as if you had the impulse control to ever tell him no.
Chan kept his movements slow, intentional, with the purpose of getting you to relax and see how much he loves you and how much an asshole dream-him was for cheating on dream-you. Big hands moved down to cup your ass under the fabric of your underwear, teething lightly above your belly button then soothing over the bite with his fat tongue. The wet muscle laved over the sore spots with the tip of his tongue, then flattening it, the tip, then flat again, alternating like he would if it were your pussy and were trying to get you to cum.
You wanted that, you always wanted his tongue on you. But now, you needed this more. The closeness and being able to keep him where only you can love and appreciate.
It felt so stupid to even be thinking that way, stupid that you had pulled such childish acts instead of just telling him in the first place. If you had just asked to be coddled, he would’ve given it to you without a second thought.
Chan needed this as much as you did, little to your knowledge. He could feel how off you were in the morning but really just didn’t have the time to fix it at that moment. It stung his heart hearing what dream-him did to dream-you, he couldn’t possibly imagine putting you through that, let alone move on so quickly if you ever were to actually break up.
No, he couldn’t even bear the thought of leaving you, it hurt too much.
His heart hurt for you, he could see the pain all over your face when he got home and it wasn’t even real life. Chan would rather die than ever let you go through something like that in this reality. In your dreams, well, there isn’t much he can do other than what he’s doing now.
Leaving chaste kisses anywhere along your torso he could, massaging your ass with his nimble fingers while heavily breathing in the scent of your skin. The quiet moans you were trying to suppress made him smile, able to feel your muscles tightening and loosening beneath his fingertips. He felt so warm against you, you wanted to thread your fingers through his hair and tried to from over the hoodie. Chan mumbled incoherently in protest and tugged the hem over his head again when you tried to tug it up.
“Wanna be close to you,” he murmured, going back to rubbing his cheek to your belly. You could only giggle and let him.
This was just Chan. Just purely and entirely him. Doing nothing and everything at the same time and making you melt into the palm of his hand, you’d forgotten why you were mad until he spoke again.
“Can’t believe I’d do that,” the barrier of material made it hard to hear him.
“Hm?” You hummed.
He slithered a little higher up your chest and you pulled the neckline to peak down into the dark shadows of the hoodie. You could see just one of his pretty brown eyes peering up at you sweetly, “who in their right mind would do that to you?”
Chan rested his cheek on your chest and stayed there, arms enclosing around your torso. “Dream-you did. And it really sucked.”
He whined this time, higher in pitch and wiggling to get comfortable. Your head back against the couch, you closed your eyes and let yourself calm down before you got worked up again. Chan could hear your heartbeat speed up, placing another soft kiss to the skin above it. You shivered and draped your arms over the back of his shoulders to succumb entirely to the feeling. Just as you finally relaxed, warmth engulfed your left nipple, wet and hot and being suckled into his mouth like a pacifier. “I’m trying really hard to be mad,” you admit while smiling to yourself, out of his field of vision.
“Please, don’t be,” he pleaded, “I’ll never hurt you. I’ll destroy anyone who tries.” It sounded silly coming from his mouth considering it was full of your tit, you couldn’t help a gentle laugh.
A few more moments of him playing with your breast, then switching to the other with no regard for the wet sounds that emitted from his suckling, you couldn’t take not seeing him anymore. You sat up as much as he’d let you and tucked your arms into the body of the hoodie, pulling your head through the neckline just enough so that the two of you were pressed chest to chest under the material.
It was dark and hot, you weren’t sure how he was able to stand being underneath it for so long. You couldn’t totally see him, but you knew he was looking at you– or at least, attempting to. You felt for his cheeks and held him just millimeters away, feeling his calm breathing over your chin. In almost total darkness, unable to see but could feel each other entirely, he whispered, “you’re safe with me. You’ll always be safe with me.”
You pulled him into you, savoring the fragile way he always tended to kiss you when you were particularly emotional, scared as if he’d break you. Handle with care, your heart said, and he did just that and more. Delicate. Do not touch, written outside the glass case he envisioned you in whenever something went even remotely in the opposite direction you wanted. It wasn’t that you needed the protection, by no means were you unable to handle yourself, but you invoked something in him that he couldn’t control. Fortunately for him, you let him smother you and baby you and wrap you in bubble wrap so tight you couldn’t breathe because it felt good to be seen. It felt good to be loved, and loved by him.
It was getting more and more difficult not to rut your hips against him, any part of him because he made you that insatiable. Chan could feel you trying to restrain and laughed against your lips.
“What if I want you to break me?” He glitched for a second, then went back to kissing you with a little more intensity.
“Then, I’ll just have to put you together again.” You ripped the hoodie away, leaving you naked in his hold aside from the underwear you were soaking through. “And break you, put you together again, and again, and again until you’re begging for me to stop.”
You felt the wave of butterflies flutter right between your legs and caved.
“Fuck– take me to the bedroom.”
Chan stood just to throw you over his shoulder effortlessly, entirely too excited for either of your own good. It wasn’t until now that you noticed he was still in those uncomfortably tight jeans he left in this morning, your mouth watered at the timely prospect of getting him out of them. You just couldn’t stop yourself from sending a light smack to his ass as he walked through the bedroom door, and he reciprocated with an even harder one to the bare skin of your own.
He laid you down gently just to cover your body with his own once again, not letting you strip him without your tongues laving against one another's. His shirt came off first, tossing it towards the headboard, your underwear, then his pants. Chan stopped you from reaching for his underwear so he could tease you, barely tugging the elastic down his hips and letting his erection catch in the fabric until he finally let it slap against his lower belly erotically.
Chan let them fall to the floor before kneeling tall onto the bed, “turn around,” he instructed. You followed and faced the headboard, seeing him reach around for his discarded shirt. Just barely could you feel his hot breath against your neck, “are you sure this is what you want tonight, baby?”
You hummed with desperation, “break me. Lovingly, please.”
Leaving a small peck to your cheek for reassurance, Chan grabbed your arms harshly and brought them behind your back. He used his forgotten shirt as a makeshift restraint, keeping you bound and tied up with no way of being able to touch him, you wondered what it was he had in store that required it.
Once he finished he sat opposite of you, falling on his back and watching the process of your mouth watering over seeing him in the perfect cock-sucking position. The redness of his tip, you would’ve thought it was painful if you didn’t know better. No, that’s a lie– it was painful. Painful watching you be so pretty and worked up and he was fighting the urge with everything in him not to untie you and lay you in the sheets like the pillow princess you so rarely got to be.
But it wasn’t what you wanted. What you wanted was to not think, be serviced and be of service, used to please. Tonight needed to end with you feeling weightless and not an ounce of sadness or anger left lingering to be found.
“Break you lovingly?” Chan called, tucking an arm under his head while the other stroked himself slowly. He swiped the bead of precum, beckoning you over with a single finger and forcing his thumb past your lips to taste. You hummed at the salty bitterness, the weight of him on your tongue and could feel yourself salivating. “Which do you want first, doll? Break you, or love you?”
Judging from the way you were practically drooling down his wrist, he took your lack of response as the former.
Stealing his thumb away, a thread of spit following, Chan laid back down and put both hands behind his head. “Go ahead. Be a good doll and suck.”
You folded so fast that it made him chuckle with pride knowing you were wanting him as much as he wanted you. Licking and twirling your tongue around the tip like hard candy, taking in as much of him as possible. Your own spit dripped down your chin and filled your mouth like a perfect hole.
Chan started to stutter up into you the further down you went. The more of him you took in, the harder it got not to thrust up. By the time you’d gotten to the point of lightly gagging, he was biting his lip to keep from losing all control. But then you looked up at him, eyes big and watery, tears already rolling down your cheek and you couldn’t even wipe it away. Nope, all self control completely obliterated by that single look. That fucking look, Chan physically felt his chest cave like crumbling sand between his fingers.
“I’ll fucking break you, baby. Don't worry your pretty little head, I’ll make you forget.” You couldn’t reply with his thick cock in your mouth, but could see you approve with the little nods you managed to give. “Be a good cocksleeve, yeah? Make me feel good.”
You took him as deep as you could, stilled as soon as your nose hit his pelvis and thought that was good enough since he groaned, loud and deep from within his chest. But you looked up at him again, this time just as the tears fell from your lash line. Chan tangled both hands in your hair and hooked his legs over your shoulders, cock still buried down your throat. He locked his ankles around the back of your head and pushed himself that much deeper to get you to gag harder. The sound that he emitted resembled that of a bear, hearty, unrestrained, feeling.
Oh, how he felt you. Felt the constricting of your throat around him, felt your tongue fighting to make room for you to breathe and failing, felt your tears wet the skin of his pelvis. Nothing but your safe word could have stopped him from pulling you off his cock for a split second to inhale a deep breath, then shoving you back down to abuse your throat like it was just a toy. For now, you were just a toy– his toy.
Lewd and adulterous squelching of your mouth slicking up and down his cock filled the room, overridden just by Chan’s moans of pleasure and your light humming to vibrate up his shaft. He was kind for a few moments– as kind as he could have been in this position, and eventually gave up seeing as you could still fight back. His lazy pushes and pulls of guiding your head up and down turned into him rutting up into your mouth in quick jabs, utilizing the headlock he had you in as leverage to move at what could have been neck breaking speed. His hands held you firmly in place as Chan did all the work now, focused on nothing but his own pleasure as your tears and spit mixed to puddle around his throbbing cock.
You were a gagging, crying mess and you loved every second. So much so that you spread your knees and tried to rub your puffy clit into the bunched up sheets. A few more upthrusts of his tip hitting the back of your throat, Chan let you go entirely. Without the stability of him holding you up, your weak body tilted to the side as you gasped for air, hips slightly twitching from the immense need built up.
He took a second to regain his composure while you caught your breath. Chest still heaving up and down, Chan forgot that your hands were still tied, wondering why you weren’t jumping his bones the second he let you free. Sitting up, he tilted his head at you with a sympathetic smile, “sweet doll, I haven’t even done anything to you yet. Anything left in here?” He mockingly tapped the side of your temple, to which it went unacknowledged. You just wanted him on you again, whining and trying to wriggle closer to him. “Hm, guess not. Did my job, didn’t I? Didn’t take very much effort, baby. You love me that much? Or you’re just a cockhungry doll.”
Through the soreness in your jaw, you managed to whisper, “l–love you.”
Chan chuckled, “I know you do. Love my sweet doll, too.” He leaned over to kiss your forehead, ignoring the way you puckered your lips for more. Chan manhandled you to the center of the bed, keeping you on your side with arms still restricted from touching.
There was nothing you could do but let him do what he wanted with you, but this was the lovingly part. This, although bound on your end, was where he showed you everything he couldn’t tell you. This was the putting you back together part, the safe with me part, the dream-me can go fuck himself because you deserve the best dicking down ever part.
And could you tell that’s what all of this was? Absolutely. Could you do anything about it? Not a chance. You couldn’t touch him, couldn’t form coherent sentences, couldn’t do anything but babble love you, love you, and more love you’s.
Chan pushed your hair from your sweaty forehead, memorizing your features for just a second before he lost himself again. Then straightening out your bottom leg for him to straddle while resting the top in the crook of his arm and aligning his cock at your entrance, just teasing your clit with the tip and spreading the perpetually leaking beads of cum. He would dip into your hole, hear you whimper, then pull away and do it all over again to keep you in a constant state of frustrated that he wouldn’t just fuck you already.
It was because fucking you wasn’t what he wanted, he hated calling it that. If it were anyone but you, calling sloppy sex for what it is wouldn’t have bothered him. But you weren’t just anyone, he wouldn’t dare call you anything less than what you deserved and that applied in the bedroom as well. That was, of course, aside from when you truly asked for it.
Even the sloppiest of sex with you wouldn’t be classified as just fucking. He felt every inch of you in every single one of his nerve endings, in his veins, pumping the blood through his heart straight down to the tip of his cock. Chan felt a little dumb just looking at you, like he’d lost his mind at the mere scent of your arousal, he felt like a lovesick puppy and if you’d ever decide to leave him, he’d die of a broken heart.
God, he loves you. He said it as he finally pushed into your pulsing, wet hole. He said it as he came to the hilt, he said it as he slipped the bondage off your wrists, as he grabbed your hand to hold and as he began to lazily thrust in and out, searching for the spot that would make you cry so hard you’ll pass out as soon as you cum.
And you did cry, not just from how good you felt physically but because even if he wasn’t mindlessly telling you how much he loved you, you could see it in the way he looked at you. He wasn’t looking anywhere but your face, straight into your eyes in a stare so intense it should’ve been uncomfortable. It was anything but, you shed a tear every time you blinked to see him still looking at you like he was sure you were the last thing he’d ever see.
God, you love him. You said it as your hand held his for dear life, as he pummeled the soft spot within you that made you see stars through the tears, you said it as you were curling your toes and arching your back at an unholy angle. You said it as coherently as possible as the butterflies in your belly swept you into a whirlwind of pleasure, as you milked him for everything he had, as you came back down to earth somehow laying on his chest and not at all in the same position as when the orgasm hit.
Gentle beating of his heart in his chest stirred you from the light daze you had fallen into, you don’t even remember doing it. “Hey there,” his chest rumbled. Chan kissed the top of your head, your forehead, then moved to lay your head in the pillows so he could kiss your lips.
As he tucked your hair behind your ear, you finally got to brush your fingers through his curls, so soft and pretty. His eyes closed as your nails raked across his scalp, letting his forehead fall against yours. The rumbling of his chest made you smile, “you purr like a cat,” you said through the sore scratch in your throat.
“Cats ward off evil. Real me is shooing away the nightmares for good. Let me purr.” Chan let you tug his head against his chest with a content him falling from your lips, where his purring turned into soft snores as the exhaustion finally hit him.
☆ﾟ
tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut
#stray kids#stray kids smut#stray kids fanfic#stray kids bang chan#skz#skz smut#skz fanfic#skz bang chan#stray kids fluff#skz fluff#bang chan#bang chan smut#bang chan fluff#bang chan x yn#bang chan x reader#bang chan x you#bang chan x y/n#bang chan x oc#stray kids hard thoughts#stray kids hard hours#skz hard hours#skz hard thoughts#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#stray kids x reader#stray kids x yn#stray kids x you#stray kids x y/n
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coryo who finds ways to motivate you as the semester is coming to a close and you're just not finding the effort.
there's nothing he hates more than someone not appreciating the life he's worked insanely hard to even have a sliver of. so when he sees you creating paper cranes instead of studying for finals, he gets unreasonably pissed off. he tries to drill some sense in you, speaking in a way that makes his nostrils flare and his already cold gaze harden like ice.
"you gotta work harder," he tells you. over and over again. and each time you whine and moan about how you don't have the effort. as if there's something chemically preventing you from seeing further ahead to the big picture.
so coriolanus, now working under gaul and feeling very scientific lately, conducts an experiment. he wants to attempt to force the chemicals in your brain to associate your work with him. for you to disconnect the strain from work with displeasure, and instead associate the labor with euphoria. he wants to make you his own pavlovian dog.
weeks spent conducting research. fingering you as he made you read out textbook passages, forcing you to repeat yourself if you stuttered even once, his chin digging into your shoulder and his fingers halting if you stopped reading all together. letting you sit on his face after you got all of your flashcards right. checking your work, ignoring the way you palmed him through his pants throughout, and only letting you fall to your knees and satiate the empty feeling in your mouth if you got them all right. fucking you slowly throughout your intentionally placed study breaks, only to make you wobble back to the workspace in your dining room with his cum still soaking your cotton panties. day by day he would deliver slow torture, only to bring you to climax and make your dopamine in your hardworking brain come alive.
it's an interesting concept, one he takes mental notes of throughout the process, and he finds his work has paid off (to an extent) whenever you go a full study session without needing any form of help, of course looking at him with pleading eyes at the end as you expect your reward.
coriolanus pretends to be upset, rolling his pretty blue eyes as he sets his pen down, but then you come climbing into his lap and he really can't be mad with you sitting on him, your pretty nails playing in his hair.
no matter how privileged and spoiled you were.
#finals week!#coryosworld!#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow#celeste writes thg
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༊*·˚ NEED TO LISTEN TO ME — price is disappointed in you and your other three lovers, and finds that some 'training' is in order
read on ao3.
featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price
warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, poly tf141, ANGRY sex, mean dom price, angst, degradation, minor dom/sub, light humiliation, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, minor spit play, minor blood play (not really), rough sex, price orders EVERYONE around, price-centred, whiny johnny and gaz agenda
// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //
You weren't scared of many things at this point in your life.
Being a signal officer for the military certainly aided that statement, but it was more the fact that you had four guard dogs in the form of the most seasoned special forces operatives you've ever known. Four very large, very scary men that you'd somehow found yourself lucky enough to get to call your partners.
Both on, and off, the field.
That being said, there was one thing you were terrified of. Like, to your bones, petrified.
And that thing had a name.
John Price.
He was formally the captain of your force for a reason, but he was also informally the captain of your relationship, as well. The one you all looked to in the most difficult of moments, the one that held reason and guidance above all.
It's been that way since the five of you met, and remains the same to this day.
Nonetheless.
It was a known fact between you, Soap, Ghost and Gaz that none of you liked seeing the man mad. You four could count on one hand the amount of times you'd witnessed it, all of which having been directed at either his superiors or an enemy.
But. Right now, in this office, seated on the small couch between your three lovers?
Yeah. You don't fear many things.
But John Price's disappointment is quite easily in your top three, and this situation only cements it.
"He's probably ordering our caskets," Gaz murmurs wistfully, eyes wide as he stares at his foot, tap-tap-tapping against the wooden floor. It's a nervous tic that gives him away too easily, but even with your hand on his knee, it doesn't seem able to quit.
You exhale a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut. "I hope he gets me a cute one," you mumble back, tone matching the resignation that clouds your captain's office.
"You four. My office."
Those were the only words Price had spoken to you guys, before marching off to a meeting with Laswell.
To say that you and your lovers were mortified was the biggest understatement of the century.
Even Ghost, sat perfectly still, expression perfectly neutral beneath his mask, oozes trepidation like it's the carbon dioxide he exudes with every breath.
"I know 'm 'n tha military, but I still don't wanna die, ya know?" Soap whines, his head flung back and blue eyes glued to the roof as his hands shake in his lap.
You guys must look like unruly students sat outside of your principal's office to any onlookers, and it should be embarrassing.
It would be, if you could feel anything but mortal peril.
You're about to quip a reply to Soap, when the door clicks open, and the three of you sit ramrod straight, Ghost not moving from his already perfect posture.
Price steps in, the door shutting closed behind him.
The silence is a tangible force, and your mouth is so dry, you'd think you were in a desert, not in your lover's office.
His footfalls echo around the modest space, before he leans against his wooden desk, folding his arms over his chest, before directing his furious gaze to you four.
"When I give orders," he starts, and oh god, his tone, it's so unbelievably firm, "I expect my team to follow them."
There's no response, except for the overwhelming quiet coming from the usually passionate and comforting presence that underlies your entire dynamic.
Price clears his throat, meeting all of your eyes one by one. You wonder if you can see the glassiness of yours, the barely restrained tears.
"So why," he begins, before swallowing once more, determination settling in, "Did all four of my teammates rush into an unstable building after being ordered to keep out?"
You know it's not just the anger of a captain's orders being refused.
It's the anger of a lover having to watch all four of his partner's risk their death, while he can do nothing but watch from the scope of a sniper rifle.
The clock on the wall above the door ticks, and none of you make a sound.
Price grabs a pack of cigars from his pocket, quickly sliding one out, placing it between his lips, and shoving the pack back into his slacks. He then pulls out a lighter from his back pocket, lighting the tobacco, before exhaling his first breath of smoke.
In any other situation, you or Gaz would be chastising him, telling him to stop smoking, or to at least do it outside.
Neither of you say a word.
Rubbing at the furrow between his brows, Price then drifts his eyes to Ghost, the only one who hasn't said a word since the mission.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" Price says on a deep exhale, shaking his head. There's hurt there, genuine pain, and your heart stutters in your chest at the sight. "You're my lieutenant, Simon. I thought you'd at least 'ave the brains to listen to me when I make an order."
Ghost's hand tightens where it sit on his cargos, and even with his mask on, you can tell that a disgruntled frown lays beneath it.
"And you, Soap," he looks at the man to your right, now, and you can physically see him deflate at the disappointment in his captain's eyes. "Disrespecting authority is cute 'nd all, until it's me, mate."
Those words feel like a physical wound, even to you, and judging my Soap's crestfallen expression, for him, it must hurt tenfold.
And, then, it's your turn.
His mouth is set in a grim line, and you hope that he can see the regret, the genuine sorrow you feel at disappointing and -- and scaring your captain. Your lover.
"What were you thinking?" He asks, and your mouth wants to open, but it's as if there's an invisible force pinning it shut. "You weren't even supposed to step foot on enemy grounds, and you knew that."
And it's true. Your role is mainly with communications and technical supplies, not actual combat. You were trained, yes, but it has never been your role.
But you'd seen Soap rush in, Ghost trailing after him, yelling, and then Gaz not long after, and it was like your mind shut out any rational lines of thinking. There was no rationale when it came to your partners.
That was a flaw. A genuine character fault, and Price was cementing that fact in this very room.
"Kyle," Price runs his hand down his face, cigar in between his middle and index fingers, "Kyle."
The pain, regret, the melancholy -- it's its own element in this room, its own being, and it feels as if it's choking you from the inside out. Like a gas leak, or a grenade stuck in your throat, about to go off.
Ghost, shockingly, is the first to speak.
"Captain," he grits out. Not 'old man'. Not 'love'.
Captain.
"We're aware of our... misgivings," he states, the words coming off of his tongue like hot coals he needs to rid off, lest his entire mouth burns.
Price nods, slowly, eyes narrowing at Ghost. It hits you, then, how your lover's just dug all of your graves in one sentence. Gaz seems to realise, too, his eyes going wide, exhaling a low, short breath in surprise.
"Sweetheart," he quips, standing up in the transition of one moment to the next, eyes snapping to your glassy ones. The endearment holds no warmth to it, for the first time, and your heart shatters where it beats in your chest, shards of glass embedding into the muscle surround it. "Get on the desk."
He says the words, and in the next movement, sweeps his arm over his desk, causing all of his papers, his pens, his folders, to go careening to the floor.
Soap mutters a curse under his breath, and Gaz winces.
On shaky legs, you stand, walking the short distance to the wooden surface and sitting on it with short pants of breath.
His large hand grips your chin in a tight grasp, tilting your head back and forcing the eye contact between you both.
He leans in, mouth mere millimetres away from your own, before speaking. You can taste the tobacco as he does. "I'm gonna let every single one of my subordinates fuck your disobedient cunt, and it's not gonna get any cum. Do you understand that order, sweetheart?"
It's cruel. Patronising, and so unbearably condescending, but you nod, a tear finally leaking down your cheek.
With a calloused thumb, he wipes it away in one stroke. "Save that for the actual punishment, operator."
And then, he steps back, and takes a seat in his chair, allowing him a full view of the other three still sat at the couch, and your position in his desk.
"This is a lesson on following your captain's orders," Price barks his order, like most other men of his rank would. It's a stone cold contrast to the gentle, comforting way he usual spoke to the four of you. His voice, now, holds no love, no underlying adoration lacing through his words. "You will follow every command I give you, and hopefully, this training will carry onto our future missions."
You're all aware that if it gets too much, one of you will utter the safeword you're all aware of -- the weight of it almost embedded into your beings.
Price knows it, too. And no matter how angry he is, he'll always put you all first, listen to you when you genuinely need to stop.
The feeling in the room has shifted from one of heavy disappointment, to an electrifying anger that has liquid heat melting to your core.
"Simon," Price snaps his fingers, and it's almost as if you're in a parallel universe, because the large man immediately stands. "Lay 'er down on the desk."
Ghost only needs to take two steps from the couch before he's standing in front of you, hand fisting into your hair, before somewhat gently pushing you to lay flat against the smooth surface. Your breathing is harsh, your chest moving in quick rises.
"Strip 'er down," Price orders, voice gravelly as he takes another deep inhale of his cigar, folding his leg so his left ankle rests on his right knee, legs spread wide. He fills out the chair with his frame, and it makes you shiver as Ghost gets to work peeling your clothes off of you.
When your heated skin feels the kiss of the cool air, you let out a haggard breath, head falling back to hit the wood as you clench your eyes shut.
Ghost goes to spread your thighs, before pausing, awaiting Price's directions like a dutiful dog.
You never thought you'd see the day.
"She's wet enough," Price shrugs, taking another drag of his cigar. "Fuck 'er."
Oh, fuck.
He wasn't lying, you were soaking, something about the fear unknowingly having your inner thighs sticky and core aching to be filled.
But... not getting prepped? At all?
Ghost makes a surprised grunt of a noise, pausing for a moment, before recollecting his senses and unbuckling his pants.
Oh. Fuck.
He's really, properly following Price's directions, like the man had demanded. The guilt was eating all of you alive, and that festered in Simon's actions.
His deep brown eyes flick to yours, before he unzips his fly with one hand, gaze not moving from yours. There's slight apology in them, only a hint, before he leans down to spit on your cunt.
You inhale a sharp breath at the act, squeezing your eyes shut as his dick presses against your heat, rubbing against it slightly.
Then, he pushes in -- it makes you cry out, breath hitching as the tip enters. It's a tight fit, but he continues to push in, and it's almost as if you can feel the intrusion, the pressure in your chest.
"So you can follow orders, huh?" Price quips, almost nastily, and it has you shuddering as Ghost's hips finally flush against your own. You don't think you've ever taken any of them without foreplay, and it's a special form of torture. The pressure is almost too much, his cock filling you up so much.
Simon's head hangs between his shoulders, muscles tense as he stares down at you, the epitome of self-restraint.
He always was the most controlling one, the most calculating.
Not today, however.
That title easily belongs to Price, who merely relaxes further into his seat, as if he wasn't just mere feet away from the two of you.
"I said fuck her, Riley. Not stand there and keep it warm."
He's so fucking. He's fucking cruel about this, fully willing and wanting to make this hurt. It's so completely unlike the man you love, and it's psychologically damning in a way nothing else could be.
But, like directed, Simon fucks you.
He stops trying to be kind about it, stops wallowing in guilt. It's rough, forceful, urgent, unlike the way he usually liked to savour your pleasure, your pain. He usually delighted in the smooth, deep strokes, prolonging the passionate act almost vindictively.
No. Now, it's quick, punishing thrusts, and your head falls back and little moans escape your throat.
It's like you've both forgotten that Soap and Gaz sit on the couch, watching, waiting. Price has likely made it that way on purpose, to make them envy the attention you and Ghost are getting.
"Fuck," you moan, tits bouncing as Simon continues to fuck you relentlessly, harsh in his movements.
"Does he feel good?" Price is standing, and when you open glassy eyes, it's to see his face looking down at you. If you had the mind to, you'd flinch under his criticizing expression. "Answer me."
You nod, shakily, and when his brows narrow, you rush out a verbal response. "Yes, yes, he does!"
Price hums a noncommittal sound, before his hand slides down your stomach, leaving your hairs to stand on end, before his fingers reach your clit. In tight circles, he has you on the edge almost immediately, and you cry out.
"Gonna fuckin' cum," Ghost grunts, voice low as his eyes clench tight.
"Aww, you two close?" Your captain's voice is gruff, all too condescending, and just before you can find your release, his hand leaves your clit, and wraps around Ghost's neck. He leans into his ear, and his whisper is loud enough for everyone to hear. "Pull out."
Simon makes a noise suspiciously close to a whimper, and it's so unlike him that it has your eyes opening wide, before he does just as Price ordered.
He pulls out.
"Seriously?" You groan, filter eviscerated like your high was. You lean up, using your elbows for leverage.
Price raises one brow, before scratching at his beard almost absent-mindedly. "Got a complaint, sergeant?"
You shake your head, lightning quick, like a puppet on a string.
That's what you were right now -- what all of you were. Just puppets in whatever acts Price wanted to see you all star in.
It's exhilarating in the worst of ways.
"Soap, Gaz," Price snaps once more, and Ghost is nothing more than a neglected mutt. Which, really, is almost funny considering the amount of times the man teases you, Soap and Gaz about such a comment. You couldn't count the amount of times he's compare you three to 'needy puppies'.
Now, he was nothing more than that, and you wish you could enjoy that fact more.
The two men adhere to the command, radiating nervous energy as they stand to attention, not unlike they would if they were in a standard military unit.
"Gaz, take her mouth," Price demands, before his hand buries in the short hair near the nape of Soap's head with a mean grip, meant to hurt. Soap barely hides a whine as Price tugs him, forcing the man to his knees as if he's nothing more than the mutt Ghost usually refers to him as. "You, lick 'er clean."
You realise, then, what exactly this is.
It's truly a display of power. Of control. Because you four took that away from him on the field, unrightfully so. There truly is thought behind his anger, his pain.
It only makes the ache in your heart burn, makes it bruise and bleed where the shattered pieces cut and embed into the innerworkings of your body.
This 'training' won't make up for what you four pulled. Not in the slightest.
But it's something to let John get some of his emotions out, in a somewhat healthier way than you lot usually resorted to.
You'd always offer your support, offer yourself, and he knows that.
He's deliberately taking away that option for you, taking control to comfort the side of him that is so deeply ingrained, so deeply relied on for him to live.
You love him. So effortlessly.
Those words remain accurate, even as Johnny first licks over your wet pussy, and Kyle's dick bumps against your lips.
Opening your mouth without a thought, Kyle's tip slips in, his pre-cum salty on your tongue as you flatten your tongue against it. Johnny's as enthusiastic as ever, maybe even more than usual, as he delegates all of his attention to your aching warmth.
John's grip doesn't release from Johnny's hair, shoving his closer against you, and the sight is so hot that you wish you could fully, properly enjoy it.
Another time, when you're all in better spots, happy and unapologetic, you'll ask them to re-enact the scene.
Johnny moans against your pussy, hands coming up to grip at your bare thighs, and you just know there'll be finger-shaped bruises come tomorrow morning. He's always been unaware of his strength, not understanding the proper damage he can inflict, especially in the bedroom. It's attractive as all hell.
"Yeah? She taste good, hm?" John nearly snarls, and you let out a drawn out moan at the pleasure and words. The sound is muffled by Kyle pushing in deeper, having you almost gagging on his length.
Your eyes flutter shut at the onslaught of feelings, but even with no sight, you can feel Simon's eyes on you like a physical weight.
You know what position he's in, without having to look. Leaning against the wall with a furious expression, large arms folded over his bulky chest. Maybe he's pulled off his mask, maybe it's just been hooked over his crooked nose.
"Fuck, cap," Kyle groans, bucking into your throat. "So fuckin' good--"
Johnny muffles a whine as his efforts nearly double, and you swear spots colour the darkness of your vision. You're already there, and it's not like you can say anything, with Kyle abusing your mouth like this.
"She's close, ain't she, Johnny? Feel her clenchin' on your tongue?" John taunts, and you can feel Johnny nod against your core, nose brushing your clit as he does.
John huffs a cruel laugh, before he abruptly pulls Johnny away by the scruff of his neck. You can't help by buck up, searching for touch, but none comes.
"Kyle," John's tone is one requiring no resistance, and with a shaky exhale, Kyle pulls out of your mouth, a string of spit clinging to his dick, before snapping and leaving your cheek covered with a line of it.
You shakily open your eyes, your pussy begging for a release, knowing that you won't get one. Not yet.
"You make a mess, you clean it up," John says.
So, Kyle leans down, his tongue licking over the spit trail, and really it should be disgusting.
Instead, it only makes you wetter.
Your thighs incessantly shake, no hint of stopping as your body aches. The emotional turmoil, mixed with the physical kind -- it's a concoction for torture.
With half-lidded eyes, you watch as John forces Johnny's head in between your breasts, pressing his face into them. It must be almost suffocating, but Johnny manages to whine as you feel John's hand wrap around Johnny's dick, positioning it against your twitching hole.
"Rut into her," John orders, before stepping back.
Johnny does just that -- he thrusts in, bottoming out with one push. Your moan sounds too alike to a squeal at the stretch, the sudden intrusion. Your arms wrap around his back, nails scratching lines down Johnny's back as he thrusts into you almost manically. You're sure that you're drawing blood, but it only seems to encourage the man rutting into you further, his thrusts urgent and feral.
"Jesus christ," someone -- you're sure it's Kyle -- murmurs, and you suddenly want to know what you must look like from a spectator. Ruined, probably.
Your breaths are harried as you feel yourself getting close once more, tears burning at the corner of your vision at the pure need coursing through your veins.
"Please," you whimper, squeezing like a vice around Johnny's dick. "Please, oh god."
"Now you want me to make decisions? Let you two cum?" There's a hand in your hair, and in any other situation, it'd be calming.
Currently, it feels like a thinly veiled threat.
"Please, John, 'm so sorry, please," you beg, eyes blurry as you look up into the man's stormy blue eyes.
Usually, they're comparable to a calm ocean, the beach mid-summer.
Now, they're akin to the darkest of storms, the ones sailors whisper about, the ones that haunt them while they're asleep at sea. Ones that cause shipwrecks to wash up on shores, ones that cause stories to be passed between campers on the scariest of nights.
"Now you're sorry, sweetheart?" And, oh, there's a sliver of the warmth you've come to crave, and it almost has you melting where you lay.
You're so close, you can taste it on your tongue, and your moans get louder, needier, more frantic --
"Stop, Johnny."
Tears fall, then. Hot and heavy down your cheeks, leaving sticky tracks in their wake. Hiccups fall from your lips as you sob from the deprevation.
Johnny whines, head drooped low as he stops, and you can feel him pulse inside of you, both of you at your wits' end.
"You follow orders so well in this room, don't you?" John says. The voice of a captain.
It's almost your last straw. The devastation is too great, the mix of physical and emotion stress weighing on you heavily.
"'M so sorry, shoulda listened," you cry, body trembling.
"John, please, we're sorry," Kyle insists, a furrow between his dark brows where he takes a step closer to you and Johnny.
Simon, although silent, is also closer to you both now than he had been, no longer stood against the wall.
Your boys -- they're so inherently protective, and it's such a nice feeling. No matter how guilty they feel, how genuinely sorry, they can't stand to see you or Johnny so weak, so vulnerable.
Love. You love them, in a way words can never describe.
John exhales. A deep, thoughtful one.
"We're talking about this, after we're all cleaned up," he says. It's the first hint of himself that you've heard tonight, and the relief is like an intoxicating drug.
It's like even the room itself takes a deep breath, dispelling of some of the tension lining every inch of it.
"Off 'er," John snaps his fingers, and Johnny pulls out with a small whimper, head still hung low.
Grabbing your hips, John flips you over, making you bend so your face is to the desk and your ass is in the air. His large hand presses against your lower back, bending you into an arch.
He slides in, and it's an easy entry. You don't think you've been more wet in your life, and gods, you need it.
Setting a ruthless pace immediately, every thrust forces a whimper, a moan, a whine out of your mouth, eyes dazed as your cheek presses against the wood. His hand fists into your hair, forcing your head to face the three men stood side by side, watching you both with a flurry of emotions behind heavy stares.
"Feel so fuckin' good, christ," John seethes, his grip tightening in your hair, causing your moan to become louder as it leaves your lips.
It isn't long before you're at that cliff once more, begging for a final push, just so you can reach that finish you ache for.
"Gonna, fuck, please, let me cum, John, I love you, I'm so sorry," your words aren't fully your own, and they come out in a desperate plea.
"Yeah? My girl gonna cum for me? Needy slut."
Those words are your undoing, your nirvana.
You cum, body strung tight as tears fall down your cheeks once more, your vision nearly blacking out with the strength of your orgasm. It's almost painful, the stimulation altogether too much, and not enough.
John finishes not long after, his cum filling you up with a loud groan from him.
He releases his fist in your hair, and you head falls to the desk, body slumping with the final release of pleasure.
Stroking a smoothing hand down your back, he pulls out, and you can feel his seed leaking down your thighs. You must be a sight -- all worn out and dripping with the white liquid.
"We don't getta cum?" Johnny whines, and you can hear the roll of Simon's eyes.
There's a hand stroking stray hairs off of your face, and from the texture and size of the limb you can tell it's Kyle.
"You won't get to tomorrow, either, if you keep tha' up," Price mutters, and you let out a delusional giggle at his words. You're cum-drunk, almost, from how drawn out your orgasm had been.
"We really are sorry, Cap," Kyle murmurs genuinely, and the hurt is a sharp barb on his tongue. "You know we love you, didn't mean to hurt you."
John releases a long, worn-out breath. "I know that. I do. But you're a bunch of reckless muppets 'nd you fuckin' went too far today. I'm your captain, lover or not."
"We'll talk it over later," Simon states, and you can't help but agree with the sentiment.
You will. And it'll be a painful conversation, but one that you all owe to your captain.
Because, at the end of the day, you four would do anything for the man that you love. That includes the tough words, the difficult exchanges.
John presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, and with complete certainty, you're sure that you're all going to be okay.
a/n. the day that i stop loving poly 141 is the day that i die. price needs all the love omg this one kinda hurt to write cause oof angst but hopefully it was an enjoyable read!!!! thank you to everyone who comments on my fics, your notes etc make me do a lil happy dance ily all!!!!!!!!!!!!
#⌨️ : love's writing#call of duty#cod mw2#cod x reader#ghost cod#mw2#simon ghost riley#soap cod#ghost mw2#price x reader#john price#captain price#price#tf141#cod#kyle gaz garrick#soap#gaz x reader#gaz garrick#soap x you#soap x reader#ghost x soap x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#poly tf141#tf 141 x reader#johnny soap mactavish#captain john price#tf 141#cod modern warfare
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Fuck me like you mad at me baby
C.S 🔞
The apartment was silent with only the sounds of Chris and I’s phones echoing around the living room. Him on tiktok and me on instagram reels,
“Chris, lower your volume i can’t hear my own video.” I say this despite putting myself to sit directly next to him, leaning my head on his stomach while we lay on the couch.
“Lower your attitude.” He complies anyway, lowering the volume. I chuckle at his comment before putting my phone down, deciding i want to bother him further. I grab his phone from his hands and put it next to mine, watching as he flutters his eyes shut and lays his head back against the couch in annoyance. “Y/n,” he mumbles into the air and sticks his hand out, “Give it.” I grin while thinking about how easy it is to tick him off, and then get an idea to see how far I could take it with him. “No.” I laugh, holding both his and I’s phones in my hand behind my back pressed against the couch. “Y/n, please.” He repeats, his voice is laced with irritation as it usually is when I mess with him like this, but the late hour of the night also took affect in how bothersome this felt to him, he was cranky. But I’m bored and all he and I had done today was lay here on our phones.
“Oh, are you gonna beg me for it?” He opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling and then looks down at me, not one hint of amusement behind his eyes the way they were mine. The colour and feeling of them cold as ice while they bore through me as if to say “‘Don’t fuck with me’ . But, I wanted to. Truth be told, Chris is hot all the time regardless of what he does or what he’s wearing, but he was the hottest when he was completely, utterly pissed off with me. When he was mad at me. Nothing more, nothing less. I act unfazed by his death stare and lean my head up from my position on his stomach to straddle his lap and his hands are still by his sides while I reposition, telling me he’s unamused.
I pick up our phones and place them on the coffee table behind me to ensure he won’t try to grab it and then redirect his attention to it again. I then lean in by his ear while placing my hands on his chest,
“Come on, pussy. Beg me.” I bite down on his earlobe taking notice of how goosebumps appear on his skin, and he exhales a deep breath through his nose before i feel his hands on my hips then he returns my actions and places his lips by the skin of my ear.
“I would watch how you speak, smart ass.” In one swift motion, he grips my hips harder and flips us over. My head laying against the cushions and his thighs pinning my lower body down. He grabs both of my wrists into one hand and pins them above my head harshly, restraining me with nothing other than his own strength while his other hand grips my jaw tightly, forcing my lips to gape open. He lowers his head so his face is inches part from mine, my head begins to spin and i feel my teasing act begin to fade the longer he stares into my eyes with not a single sign of dismay, his gaze is cold and taunting and it’s directly in front of me. making me feel small under it while I gulp slightly, still trying not to show signs of my faltering ego. His grip on my jaw or wrists however hadn’t faltered in the slightest, if anything his grip hardened.
“If you make me repeat myself so help me y/n i’ll edge you for months. Open your fucking mouth.”
My breath hitches as lust fills my senses, i feel the wave of heat roll over into my body the moment he stops speaking. I nod quickly and oblige, opening my mouth and sticking my tongue out. Flinching a bit when i feel how roughly he’d spit into my mouth. His hand on my jaw moves to my cheeks and squishes them together, forcing my mouth to close as I swallow his saliva and stare up at him, the smug look on my face is long forgotten.
“Look at how pathetic you are. Asking me to beg for you and now you’re under me, looking as lost and fucked out as a dog before i’ve even thought about touching you.” I let out a slight whimper at his words, proving him right with everything he’d said and for the first time tonight, he looks amused as ever. a smirk making its way onto his face before he lowers his hand to wrap it around my neck, squeezing hard. I gasp slightly and furrow my eyebrows while I look up at him again, the air in my lungs being knocked out almost instantly the moment his hand met my throat. I feel myself get wetter and wetter the longer he has me in this position, pinned down by my arms and neck under him, at his mercy. My head begins to spin and my pussy aches, practically dying to be filled by his dick.
“Are you gonna be a smart mouth?” His voice, his voice is deep and condescending, filling my brain with the dirtiest thoughts about him. I want him inside me so badly, i’m willing to do anything to get him to hurry up. I shake my head no, biting my bottom lip as i stare at his. He grins, noticing.
“Gonna be my good little bitch right?” I nod my head before answering with words, knowing that’s what he wants. “Y-yes daddy. Gonna do anything you want.” I feel lightheaded now, with need and with the small amount of oxygen making its way towards my brain. “That’s a good baby.” He releases his grip from my throat and gives me no time to recover before he’s removing my sweatpants and tossing them behind him on the couch then flipping me around again by my waist. He presses down on my head, shoving my face into the cushions while he lifts my hips up and pushes my panties to the side. His fingers practically slipping around my pussy from how wet he’d made me. I moan from the feeling of his fingers in between my folds and try to grind myself down onto his hand, earning a harsh slap to my backside that makes me whine. Chris removes his own sweatpants and drops his briefs to his ankles when he steps off to stand by the couch. Positioning me to arch further off the edge. I feel his wet tip rub against my hot folds teasingly, causing me to let out a cry. He continues rubbing himself against my clit, occasionally slipping his tip inside of me just to pull it out a second later. My chest heaves and I feel my eyes begin to water from how desperate I am, the ache between my legs at an all time high from the amount of teasing. “Chris. Fuck me.” I’m whining like a baby at this point and i couldn’t care less about it, he’d officially drove me up the wall and all I needed now was to feel his thick cock filling me up, feeling every vein pumping in and out of me. “Are you gonna beg me?” He mocks, a groan leaves my lips before i start to lose my mind, I was willing to do anything, anything for his cock.
“Please Chris I need you so badly daddy. I need to feel you. Please.” I gasp when he pushes his dick inside of me, bottoming out completely. My eyes roll to my back of my head and my mouth flung open at the delicious feeling of the stretch. Until I notice he isn’t moving at all. I clench around his dick repeatedly and wiggle my hips to get more friction, my whole body is on fire and I’m about to start screaming when I realize he isn’t satisfied with my words, officially broken before he’s even fucked me, I lost all of my dignity just for him to start fucking me.
“Please, please, please, please Christopher. Please! God I need you so badly, i’ll never mess with you again just pl-“ I’m cut off by my own moan when he pulls all the way out and slams his cock back into me at a steady hard pace. His hands spreading my thighs further and pressing down on my back, causing me to arch my ass up as high as possible while my couch muffles my screams of pleasure. I hear as he lets out rough grunts that match up with his thrusts, his arms reach to grab my hands that are clawing at the cushions beneath me, once again holding both of my wrists behind my back to fuck into me rougher.
My stomach is turning with pleasure and i feel myself get dizzy for the 4th time since we’ve started, my body beginning to shake from the quick building feeling of an orgasm, it’s embarrassing how quickly he’s able to make me release. but with all of the tension and teasing building up to this moment i’ve felt on the edge since the moment we started. “C-Chris. i’m-i’m gonna cum.” I try to speak as loudly as i can from how hard he’s fucking me and my face being pressed down. Hoping he’ll hear me clearly and spare me after doing his fair share of teasing for the night, he doesn’t.
“Nah, beg me. I want to hear you beg for it.” He hits my g-spot repeatedly after he speaks, the tip of his dick so deep inside of me i could feel it moving in my lower stomach. My words die on my tongue as my eyes flutter closed, I so badly want to give him what he wants but I feel frozen with pleasure, my brain completely numb and my chest beginning to burn from how hard i’m breathing.
Chris sucks on his teeth from behind me before reaching down and wrapping his hand around my hair sprawled against my back, pulling on it so harshly to pull me up towards his chest. My head falls against his shoulder and he picks up the pace of his cock inside of me from this position.
“Chris, I- Please.” I try to form words in order for him to allow me to cum but feeling his dick inside of me from a new angle has me spiraling, i’m dangerously close to falling off the edge and Chris is having none of it.
“Is this what you wanted, huh? Me to fuck all of my anger out into your pussy? Wanted me to get mad at you so I could fuck you like a whore? Huh?” His mouth is directly next to my ear, he’s practically growling out his words while drilling his length deep inside of me. and his voice is swimming around in my head, echoing throughout my mind like a mantra as my vision begins to get fuzzy.
“Yes Chris, Fuck yes. Yes yes yes yes.” I choke out, his words go straight to my core, pushing me further. I feel tears start to stream down my face at how badly I need to cum, with all of his teasing beforehand and now going nonstop my body is past overwhelmed.
“Do you want to cum, slut?” My heart jumps at the thought of finally being able to cum, i nod eagerly and squeeze my eyes shut. More tears falling down my neck.
“Say you’re sorry. Apologize for being such a lil brat.” I let out a high pitched whine and my breathing quickens, his pace hasn’t faltered in the slightest, still ramming his dick into me at an ungodly pace now while one of his hands is keeping its grip onto my hair to hold my head back against him, his other hand making it’s way around my waist to rub my clit in circles.
“Shit-shit, Chris. I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry. I’ll n-never act like that a-again i’m sorry daddy. Please. Please forgive me. Pl-please let me cum.” I’m at my most desperate point, my whole body is tense and i could just die if he denies me any longer than this,
“Cum.”
Spots of white cloud my vision the second i hear the words fall from his lips, my mouth hangs wide open as i let out high pitched pornographic moans. My eyebrows are so deeply furrowed it’s causing me a headache and i feel my body going limp as he shoots his own load inside of me. Chris grabs my waist before i could fall and lays me onto the couch, pulling out of me and flopping down next to me. Our breathing is synced, both heavy and desperate for air as our energy dissipates into nothingness. I sit up straight and Chris follows my actions, sitting next to me with both of our bottom halves being completely bare and sweaty. The apartment is now filled with noises of our panting and sips of the water bottle we’d left on the table in front of us.
“I forgive you. Now hand me my phone”
2 lil taggies: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie
#sturniolo triplets smut#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo smut#chris x reader
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🖇️📁 𝐒𝐊𝐙 ... 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐗
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, do not interact if you’re under 18
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, phone sex, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), masturbation, overstimulation, edging, praise, body worship, dry humping, degradation
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is absolute dog but i just can’t stop thinking about how hot chan and minho would sound like so please forgive 😭 reblog for a kiss, feedback is much appreciated!
𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍
extremely vocal, especially when it comes to praise
constantly tells you how pretty you look when you’re taking his cock so well <3
generally very soft and sweet during sex
can get really messy with it when he’s about to cum though
will sloppily groan into your cunt once your fingers tangle and tug on his hair, his own keeping your pretty folds spread open nice and stretched for him to fuck his tongue into - his other hand fisting around his dick and everything is just so filthy
he’s letting out the most vile moans while kissing your pussy, cum and spit dripping from his chin and every sound he lets out against you drumming against your folds and just edging you further and further towards orgasm
sometimes he wishes you could see how cock dumb you look in these moments :(
will always remind you how well you’re doing for him no matter how rough he goes with you, especially once he catches sight of those cute tears welling up in your eyes
let’s out a small tut and catches them on the pad of his thumb ever so softly, cock still fucking deep into and you almost wanna curse him out for being so soft with you while his dick is busy ruining your cunt
sometimes buries his head into your neck to muffle his own groans, wanting to hear how good he’s making you feel instead
his words come out extremely rushed and slurred when he’s about to cum
wants nothing more than to soak up your little whimpers and gasps and the cute little twitch in your face when you’re about to spill but he’s soso pussy drunk rn so don’t be surprised that he can’t stfu
“doing so well for me sweetheart, just hold on a little longer.”
“god you’re so pretty, wanna fill you up so bad.”
^ a personal fav of his!! he just loves how pretty you look when his cum is dripping past your folds and onto the sheets
the sight of his cum staining your skin really gets him going, you can’t change my mind
also loves the slight look of humiliation that takes over your face when you catch sight of it, crossing your legs in embarrassment but he’ll always be there remind you who you belong to :(
𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐎
extremely mean with his words
especially when you’re sucking on his cock so prettily, he can’t help but get a little carried away and spew absolute filth into your ears
will tangle his hand in your hair, fucking his hips forward to force himself further down your throat and will literally laugh straight in your face once he hears you gagging around him
“aw, is it too much for you baby? i know you can handle it, you’re practically begging for it.”
“c’mon sweetheart, i know you just can’t wait to be filled with my cum so take it.”
has such a bite to his words but you can’t even find it in yourself to be mad at him when he’s fucking your mouth so well and good
let’s out the deepest grunts when he feels himself at the back of your throat and will only urge you to take him even deeper
even when you claim you can’t
actually kinda thrives when you try to resist and dig your pretty nails into his thighs, the sting making him hiss out and he’ll have no problem pulling you off his cock just to hold your jaw open and make you swallow his spit
cause ‘that’s the only thing little bitches like you deserve’ pls he’ll be so salty
gets r e a l l y loud when he’s about to cum
grunts, groans, curses and tugs on your hair until there’s tears stinging your eyes
sometimes when he’s feeling a tad nice he’ll feed you some praise
but he’ll have to be soso pussy drunk to do so cause he really just loves to treat you like the slut you are
“take it like a good girl.”
the closet thing to praise you’ll get out of this man istg
likes having phone sex with you whenever he’s on tour cause he’s able to get you off with just his voice alone and he gets such a kick out of it
fists his cock once your whines hit his ear, coming out all strangled and choked as you fuck your finger sloppily past your folds - only half listening as he talks you through your orgasm
“tell me how much you miss me and my cock baby, tell me how you wish i was there to stretch you out real good like you deserve.”
knows how much of an effect his voice has over you and just runs with it istg
𝐒𝐄𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍
whiney
when’s he’s domming you he won’t be very vocal though
maybe a tad demanding but that’s about it
literally just manhandles you and let’s out the occasional grunt against your flushed skin when his cock hits that spongy spot deep within your pussy - refusing to give into your begs and telling you to ‘take what he gives you’ 🤒
whenever he’s subbing you it’s a different story
he’ll be soso needy and it’ll show in his voice
can get really impatient when you tease him, rubbing your naked folds over the length of his hard cock just to push his buttons
and all he wants to do is force your hips down and finally take him until your pretty pussy is on the brink of being completely ruined
can be kinda bratty at the start, looking up at you with big eyes while his hands grab at your hips - silently begging you to finally sink down onto him and all he can do is pout once you continue to refuse
“c’mon baby, haven’t i been good for you? think i deserve to feel you around me by now.”
gets more desperate the longer you hold out
“p-please, i need you so bad sweetheart. don’t y-you need me too?”
and you wanna give in so bad and finally feel his thick cock pounding into you but the sound of him stumbling over his words so cutely and his whines only getting louder with each passing second you continue to tease him only made it more fun
the poor guy can’t take his eyes off your pussy so you eventually give in cause he’s just so pretty
throws his head back in the most <3 way
lips all bruised and loved on and the cutest whines breaking ripping past his throat as his hips fuck sloppily up into you, cock withdrawing fully only to fill you to hilt with every rut of his hips
sometimes gets clumsy with it and misses your hole every now and again with how eager he is to finally cum
and you just think he’s so adorable when he gets so embarrassed over it
tries maintain his whole ‘badboy’ reputation he has going for him but as soon as he gets the slightest bit of pussy withdrawals he’s turning into the whiniest mess ever :(
𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍
on the more silent side when he’s wrecking your cunt
kinda just wants to soak up all your cute begs and little gasps so he’ll hold himself back a lot
and we all know how much this guy loves to hear himself talk so it’ll be a challenge for him 😔✊
loves playing with you so much and works you up until you’re all hazy eyed and on the brink of tears
swears it’s his fav look on you
could practically eat up those little cries and sobs you let slip when he’s toying with your aching pussy, fingers rubbing at your swollen nub and cooing down at you so mockingly as you try to cover your glassy eyes from him
if you even try to quieten yourself down he’ll do anything to make you break
will be messily eating away at your sensitive cunt, humming lowly into your heat once your sweet taste hit his tongue
all disheveled hair and glaring eyes gazing up at your from between your thighs, savouring every stutter and twitch in your face
as soon as he sees your hand itching towards your face, clamping itself over your mouth to keep your pretty sighs hidden from his ears he’ll be so >:(
turd lowly after pulling away from you, the sight of your wetness covering his chin making you wanna hide away in embarrassment but his eyes were just daring you to make a move
slaps your cunt and says shit like
“let me hear you pretty girl.”
such sweet words filled with so much nastiness that it had you squirming under his stare
can be really into degradation too, especially when he’s been edging you for hours on end
just loves the frustrated furrow between your brows and the little pout that sits on top of those pretty lips of yours when you don’t get your way - knowing he’s not gonna give into you anytime soon
speaks to you so condescendingly that it makes you feel so small beneath him and you can’t even bite back
not if you wanna get dicked down that is
will continue until you’re squirming and begging for his cock and just loves how far he can push your until you’re on your knees crying that you’ll be good for him
“can’t even act like you’re not desperate for my cock for five fucking minutes huh?”
𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆
he won’t stfu istg 😭🤚
very much a whiner
begs will be dripping from his lips the moment he gets a mere glance at your pretty pussy
looks like he saw *god* each and everytime pls
very impatient but gets you off so well despite that
his fingers will be knuckle deep inside of you, curling them against your walls as his lips left open-mouthed kisses against your heat - sucking on your clit and being you to the edge of orgasm soso well
humps the bed sometimes cause he wants to be inside of you so bad and he just can’t help himself from whimpering out against your cunt with every soft roll of his hips into the mattress, desperate for some type of release :(
will mutter shit against you and you so badly wanna tell him to stfu but he’s eating you out like a starved man, tongue tracing your cunt and fingers pumping into your so clumsily that you can’t even wrap your head around the thought of even forming words atm
“just wanna make you cum, wanna be good for you.”
“you look so pretty, can’t wait to feel you hugging my cock.”
slurs his words a lot and literally can’t think straight when all he wants is to be buried deep inside you
whines, whimpers, and cries against the skin of your neck when he finally sinks into you - burying his head deeper into your shoulder to muffle his moans but you swear it does nothing to quieten this boy down
probably have the neighbours knocking on your door every morning complaining cause he’s so loud
he just can’t help it though :( you just always feel so good for him :(
𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗
big giver and very vocal
very much into body worship and praise so literally everything that leaves this guys lips will be the most endearing shit you’ve ever heard
and you don’t even know how to act when he’s like this cause it’s like,, bro,, that’s all well and cute but,, you’re currently balls deep inside of me???
and he’s just like :) i love u :) ur so pretty :)
“c’mon pretty girl, i know you can hold on for me. you’ve always been so good for me, you’re not gonna stop now huh?”
also extremely big into communication during sex
like he’ll literally be rearranging your guts and will just go
“are you okay baby? you sure it’s not too much for you? 🥺” with t h a t gaze and you just wanna melt right then and there
almost makes you forget about the cock that was currently stretching you out so well and good
more of a groaner than anything
THE DEEPEST GRUNTS !!
(sometimes whimpers when he’s about to cum but he’ll never admit to it)
extremely sensitive to even the slightest bit of touch will get this guy going
if you’re teasing him he’ll lose his goddamn mind
like you could be dragging your cunt against his cock, ignoring his begs for you to finally sink down onto him and he’ll be soso whiney about it with no shame
poor boy just wants to get his dick wet :(
always mumbles sweet praises when you’re done and calls you his good girl
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍
so fucking vile with it
just likes seeing those pretty eyes of yours welling up with tears :(
the overstimulation of his nipping words and the cock that was drilling mercilessly into your tight cunt making you sob out against him and he’s eating every single whimper and whine up
100% the type to laugh straight in your face when you beg him to slow down, only for your hips to rut up against him like a bitch in heat as soon as he does
and you just so badly wanna punch him straight in his pretty face but you also wanna get dicked down so-
can get a little carried away sometimes though and doesn’t think before he speaks when his dick is fully seated inside your dripping heat
says shit like
“tell me why you deserve to cum and i’ll think about it.”
“aw, is my baby gonna cry? let me see those tears pretty girl.”
and you can’t even think about fighting back cause the way he’s twitching inside of you and kissing against your walls was all just too much
besides his mean words he’ll be mostly quiet with the occasional groan
mostly wants to hear how well he’s ruining you
as soon as your mouth is on him though he’s all over the place
groans, curses, fucking w h i n e s
and he hates it sm
becomes a tad nicer when his dick is in your mouth cause he’d rather cum thank you very much
“fuck your mouth feels so good, keep taking me like a good girl.”
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍
gets extremely embarrassed during sex so he’ll hold himself back a lot
buries his face in your neck while fucking into you, muffling his moans against your warm skin
doesn’t really talk a lot except for the occasional
“so pretty for me baby, so good.”
and other shit you can’t make out cause he’s just mumbling all over the place and groaning between his words and just soso pussy drunk
just wants to hear how good he’s making you feel :(
definitely mumbles a lot and stumbles over his words the closer he is to spilling into you
furrows his brows and clenches his jaw real tight when he finally paints your plush walls in his cum, holding his grunts back and you so badly wanna tell him to relax but the way his cock was slowly softening inside of you and warming your insides with his thick cum dripping past your folds had you so cock drunk cock that you couldn’t even find it in yourself to do so
becomes so whiney when your cunt tightens around his dick, the overstimulation of having just came while you continued to milk him making him grip the sheets next to your head - whimpering into your neck and he’s soso humiliated but he can’t even find it in himself to care as begs continue to spill from his lips
10/10 the prettiest whines ever
the type to thank you after you suck his dick <3
© 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐬 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.
#stray kids reactions#stray kids x reader#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#stray kids drabbles#skz reactions#skz x reader#skz headcanons#skz imagines#skz smut#bang chan smut#lee minho smut#seo changbin smut#hwang hyunjin smut#han jisung smut#lee felix smut#kim seungmin smut#yang jeongin smut#bang chan x reader#lee minho x reader#seo changbin x reader#hwang hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#lee felix x reader#kim seungmin x reader#yang jeongin x reader
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omg tbh grumpy bored Miguel just having to sit, wait, hand over his credit card and then carry bags from lingerie store to lingerie store is so important to me and my daydreaming lmaoo. Punishment fits the crime imo!!
I also love the idea of him going solo and buying lingerie he likes and leaving her little presents because A) if she likes the pieces then perfect!! or B) if it’s not her taste then it’s perfectly okay for him to rip them of her and she doesn’t even get mad 😏😏
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader
Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist
When you had asked him to come with you to go shopping for lingerie, he had been thrilled.
Why wouldn't he be.
It had sounded like a great way to spend a few hours of on a lazy weekend together.
In his mind, it'd be you half naked, parading in scanty underwear for his eyes only.
A private fashion show, except sexy, instead of boring, where you'd be wearing a lacy piece that would barely cover your ass cheeks for him. A sheer peer of white panties that would leave nothing to the imagination. A frilly pair that was begging for him to rip them off right then and there, in the changing room.
He hadn't know then that it would be like this.
That apparently, in lingerie stores, men aren't allowed in the changing rooms. That he'd be banished in the lounging area, sat in a pink velvet armchair so tiny, it must be made for dolls that he can barely squeeze his ass into.
He's sitting here, exiled to this depressingly sad space of other bored husbands and boyfriends, who are half dozing off or staring at their phones like dreary zombies. Meanwhile he's hunched in on himself like a shocking elephant trying to fit in a goddamned teacup.
Not for the first time since he arrived in this world, the thought strikes Miguel that your world is a dystopia.
Because what other way is there to describe a world where one is supposed to sit sit mere feet away from their partner, while they get undressed and he's not allowed to look. Not allowed to touch. Not allowed to...
Shock.
This is torture. Why is he left out here like some abandoned dog out in the streets, forced to imagine what you look like in that tiny dressing room.
Forced to imagine you naked, with nothing on but a bra as you look at yourself in the mirror, and nothing he can do about it. Except sit here, as his dick stirs between his legs at the thought of it. Nothing to do but be tortured at the thought of you and your hands cupping your breasts as you try to decide if it's a good fit.
At the way you'd spin in front of your own reflection, and the way those sheer lacy panties he picked for you to try, that splits in the middle, would part as you move.
His fangs itch in his mouth at the thought of it. Fingers gripping into the arms of the armchair, as he resists every instinct to rush to his feet and break into your dressing room. Press you up against the wall until you're flat against it. Every inch of him pressed along yours, your legs wrapped around his waist, spreading you wide open as he --
"Miggy."
He breaks out of his reverie. Blinking up to see your face gaze down at him.
"I'm done," you tell him, showcasing the big shopping bag like a treasure.
Reaching over, he takes it from you. "What did you get in the end?"
"All of them. You've ripped so many I don't have anything nice to wear anymore except my old granny panties, so I figured I needed a whole new collection," you say a little pointedly as you serve him a side eye and steer him out of the shop.
He shakes the bag to peer inside, and the familiar white cotton and cherry patterns of the panties you wore this morning peeks out from the other wrapped items.
"Are those the panties you wore here?"
"Mhmm," you hum absentmindedly as you continue to steer the two of you towards the exit of the mall.
It's probably not easy for you to do, cause Miguel is larger than you, and the place is crowded, but he's too distracted to be more helpful to you in this moment.
Images of you flit through his mind. Of the cute sheer panties you'd picked up earlier hugging your hips even as you're walking next to him in this moment.
"Which one are you wearing now?" He has to swallow down the saliva flooding his tongue so he can ask the question.
Training his eyes on the bag, he tries to sneak another peek, even though every other piece has been carefully wrapped in pink tissue paper. "Is it the pink one? or the red ones?"
You cock your head slightly to the side and observe him with an amused smile lingering on your lips.
"Nope," you tell him, still with that casual smile.
"The sheer lacy one then?"
"No, not that one either."
"The baby blue?"
You shake your head and he frowns. This game of 20 questions is getting a bit too drawn out for his liking. And he doesn't quite get why you won't just give him the answer. Still there's only two more guesses left.
"The black satin?"
"No."
"So the--"
"I'm not wearing that one either," you finish before he even can point out the final option.
His eyebrow quirks in question. "What do you mean?
The gears in his heads are turning but not fully comprehending what you mean by that. He saw the ones you wore this morning in the shopping bag, and if you didn't wear any of the ones you bought then--
"I'm not wearing anything."
... Shock.
Dedication & Credits: To my most beloved @thirstworldproblemss for always having the patience to listen to my unhinged thoughts. She had the most delicious thots about what happens minutes after this.
How Miguel would be too impatient to wait until you made it back home. How Miguel would have you pinned against the wall in a semi-secluded area, all: “don’t worry about it, nena. I’ll know if anyone’s coming, and we’ll be long gone before they get here.” But then being so distracted by you and the feeling of you wrapped around his cock that you nearly get caught anyway, and it’s only because you notice in the last second before discovery and tap him in alarm that makes him manage to haul you out of sight before you got caught.
Follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!
#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara fanfic#miguel ohara#miguel ohara x reader#oscar isaac#spider man: across the spiderverse#spider man 2099#across the spiderverse
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Obey me demon brothers reacting to mc being hit with a "special" potion by someone and them having to deal with mc being extremely horny and dominant plus having their back absolutely blown? (Btw I love your writing🫶🏼)
It's like 1 in the morning and my phone is at 8 percent, the best time to write.
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MC was affected by this mysterious potion that makes them crave for some back-breaking fuck
Warnings: No proofreading, grammar mistakes, spelling mistakes, smut, no censoring, reader is Implied to be wearing strap or having cock (a big one), fingering them, wrong use of car hood, choking, air deprivation, wrong use of ties, ovestimulation
Parts: Demon brothers, Side Characters
Links: Masterlist
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LUCIFER
Are you being serious?
You mean to tell him that the reason why you came home looking like that
Why you came home and immediately went inside his room
Is because you were affected by this strange potion?
That makes you feel like you're in heat?
It doesn't matter, he needs to check up on you and see if it's harmful or not
Or to see if he can do anything to help you, at least.
"A-AUGH!" Moans and screams that sounds too whiny to be his escaped his mouth as your fingers moved wilder. "Wait a second!" He screamed the second time before you added another finger.
He was drooling like a dog on top of his desk as his cock spurt out strings of cum, staining the dark wood of his desk. "You better keep your back like this or I'll have to force it then." You ordered after you grabbed his shoulder and made him arch his back.
"G-Give me a break atleast..!" Is the last thing he screamed after he felt something hard against his used ass.
MAMMON
He was panicking
He knew that this ingredient had an aphrodisiac like effect on humans
But he didn't know it would be this much.
Plus he meant no harm!
He simply fed you this bread during your night out to make things a little exciting!
"Stop fucking moving." You cursed out as you slammed in his ass harder making him moan even more "I-I'm trying..!" He sobbed out as you bent him over the hood of his car, one of his legs raised on it while his dick continued to leak pre.
"P-Please don't be mad! O-One more! I promise I'll do better!" He begged like a whore as he pushed himself closer to you, trying to push your length deeper.
And the last thing he remembered is how he passed out and woke up again with his legs up your shoulder as you relentlessly pound into him.
LEVIATHAN
He kind of knew that it has strong aphrodisiac in it
It was said in the warning after all
But he's a high ranking demon so of course it has no effect on him
And he forgot that you're still human despite having that enormous amount of magic
"Shhh... Breath in." You chuckled at him as he shakily inhaled, sweat coating his forehead as you pushed your fingers inside of him once again "A-Agh~ I think I really can't do it anymore..!" Panic settled in when he felt himself on the edge with just your fingers.
His breathing got more ragged and panicked as you moved your fingers "Don't say that! I know you can take it..." You tried to cover your annoyed mood by sweetening your words.
"N-No... I-I think I'll die..!" His cock leaked pre but your patience is just starting to run thin "Levi how about we shut up?" You pushed your fingers down his throat "You made me like this so take responsibility." You threatened.
SATAN
He saw this unique spell in one of his books.
It applies aphrodisiac on foods without needing an actual potion
And so he though, why not try it on you?
You have gained a pretty amount of mana since time time you first came here
You can handle this much right?
Satan held on the bookshelf for his dear life as he bit on the tie harder to surpress his moans "You might break the shelf at this rate..." You panted out as you pushed yourself deeper inside of him.
A groan escaped his throat as tears does from his eyes "No mwore!" He managed to say through the gag as he caressed his ass, red from all the spanking he received earlier.
You just held his hands and slammed all the way in, his knees completely giving up and your hands holding his up is the only thing preventing him from falling "There, there... I'll start moving now..." You sweetly said, ignoring his please.
ASMODEUS
He didn't mean to!
You just looked so hot earlier that he forgot he had this ability!
Accidentally putting aphrodisiac on your food... How horrible!
Don't worry, he'll take responsibility!
Rhythmic moan is the only thing that can be hear inside the dimly lit room of Asmodeus, oh, the slapping sound of his ass whenever it hits your waist too.
"Augh!~ I-I'm getting a little tired honey~" He moaned as he continued to bounce himself on top of you as you lazily sat on his sofa "Maybe a little help..?" He guided your hands to his waist, implying that he wants you to move him yourself.
When you didn't react, he looked back at you over his shoulders and saw how you look completely out of it, dilated pupils and red cheeks "You know... If I started moving you yourself I might break your fragile little waist." You whined out as he felt you grip him harder.
BEELZEBUB
He's really sorry!
He forgot about this aphrodisiac and how it's harmful for humans...
What do you mean he can help cure the pain?
Sure, he'll help!
You played with Beelzebub's vibrant hair as his mouth worked wonders for you "Just like that~" You moaned as you looked down at him.
"Am I helping you relive the pain..?" He pulled away for a minute, a string of saliva and cum connecting his lips from your thighs "Yes, Beel. You're doing so good~" You leaned down to give him a little kiss
"I'm pretty sure this is hurting too~" You moved your feet closer to his clothed cock, visibly hard and straining against his pants "Then... Can MC help me relive it later too..?" He asked which made you smirk.
BELPHEGOR
It started off as a harmless prank
It was supposed to be a harmless prank
He didn't know it would reach this far
And he never thought that you'll let it reach this far!
"F-Fucking hell! MC!" He managed to say between the small intervals where you raised his head and let him breath, it's sad that this is what he decided to say.
You slammed his head back down on the pillow and moved your hip back and forth, enough to push him forward and have him holding the bed frame.
And then he tapped your thigh signaling that he's about to cum, and being a nice human, you let him, but this time, you didn't raise his head to let him breath and now you can see the panic.
How he was struggling to push himself up as cum leak out of his cock continuously, you harshly pulled his hair to let him breath "A-Ah~ I-I can't breath please!" He was holding your hands as he begged, tears and sweat messing up his face.
It was a sight to behold before you push him back down.
#obey me#obey me fluff#obey me headcanons#obey me nightbringer#obey me scenarios#obey me shall we date#obey me x reader#omswd#omnb#obey me smut#obey me Lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor
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What if your brain tells you that nurse!reader from the previous fic was on the field with the boys as an on call medic and gets taken as a POW and ghost is losing his fucking mind?? - like actual feral behavior
Ohhhhhhhhhmygod. Hi? I’m in your walls. So mad I didn’t see this before because I’ve been SLAVING over a Simon fic all week and this apparently is the motivation I needed to put some more batshit insane things on the internet forever.
We all know that Simon is a fucking machine. Prides himself on his ability to essentially turn off his humanity on the field. But for some reason his nurse!reader is the one thing that interrupts that ability. Even seeing you treating a few rowdy privates gets him worked up. Lingers around the medbay in his free time for no apparent reason just to side eye your patients and glare at them to make sure there’s absolutely no possibility of you getting hurt.
There was probably an occasion where you were treating a soldier who didn’t fare well with pain. Moaning and crying and thrashing while you did something simple like tuck their arm into a sling, and they somehow writhed around enough to hook you in the cheek with their elbow. Nothing serious, but it left an angry red mark on your cheek for so long that he caught it on one of your evening walks around base. Usually after dark so you could both avoid being found out.
And then the next day you see Simon dragging that same soldier to a different nurse’s bed under the armpits. Explaining gruffly that he went unconscious because he couldn’t handle training. (He made the poor bastard run the track in full tactical gear on one of the hottest days of the year for nearly an hour straight. No water. No breaks.)
You were the kindest, softest thing he’d ever come in contact with. Something he never thought he’d be able to find in this lifetime after so much hate and anger and pain. He couldn’t risk losing you, which is why he was so strict on his saying no to you joining the task force on the field. The shit they did was dangerous. Immensely so. And this brought up two main points for Simon.
One; he wouldn’t be able to focus on the task at hand knowing you were out. He slept with one eye open when you were nestled close to his chest and snoring softly in the comfort of your own home that he’d all but booby-trapped home alone style. No fucking way he’d allow you out into hostile territory with only a introductory understanding of self-defense. He’d be on pins and needles the entire mission. Probably get the entire squad killed because he’d constantly be looking over his shoulder for you.
Two; it would rip him to shreds if he lost you. You were the only person he truly saw as an equal. The first time the two of you met, he was probably being angsty and rude because he did something to land himself in the medbay, and when he refused to take off his tact vest so you could listen to his heart and lungs, you all but held him at scalpel-point and threatened him within an inch of his life until he finally submitted. After that he was fucking hooked. Obsessed with the way you could get brutes like him to roll over and show you their belly like obedient dogs. And you were kind to him. Immeasurably kind. Dealt with his mood swings and took the time to get to know him. Suffered through the impossibly long process of him letting his guard down.
So if somehow his orders were ignored, it was almost certain that you’d be given strict orders to keep your involvement under wraps. Price would have enough of an idea of the situation to keep the two of you on opposite schedules in the days leading up to deployment. Minimize the possibility of you letting slip that you’d be coming along to preserve not only the integrity of his team but also his quality of life.
It would seem like a regular day to Simon at first. Loading into the helo before dawn, sitting between Johnny and Gaz and trying to tune them out while they snarked at one another across him. And then Price would come on looking guilty as sin. You could practically smell it coming off him. Leaning both his arms on the open door and signaling the driver to start the engine for a quick take off in case Simon decided to abandon ship in his outrage.
He’d give some spiel about teamwork and the importance of focusing on the mission and whatever other bullshit he thought would keep Simon the most level headed. Spewing on and on until Gaz finally cut him off with a pointed yawn. At which point he’d give the group one last look, lingering the longest on the ghost mask, before stepping aside to reveal you.
Dressed up in a uniform that looked about a size too big. Tailored as best it could be in the short notice. Pants chopped and hemmed to make them a manageable length, belt pulled as tight as it could go around your waist. Strapped into a vest that was loaded with medical supplies instead of weapons. Two pistols holstered on your either side.
Simon was beyond livid. Spouting steam like a cartoon bull. Staggering to stand when the chopper took off and stalking over to the cockpit where Price sat and tried to look casual.
Gave him a fucking earful. Screaming over the roar of the engine into the earpiece on a private channel for the entire two hour long flight. Bitching about paperwork and dead weight and how it’s just another person he’ll need to look after and he doesn’t want to. It’s almost impressive. Price doesn’t get a word in sideways. Gets shut down immediately if he even dares to open his mouth.
And he’s a monster when he finds out you’ve been taken POW. Circled by the enemy team like ravenous wolves finding a wounded deer. Soap and Gaz both have to pin him down when Price breaks the news. Seeing fucking red.
A large part of me thinks he internalizes a lot of the torture he went through in the comics. Letting it sit and fester inside him like the worst kind of poison that it took him years to meticulously extract from his very being and carefully contain into a small vial. Laying dormant in the back of his mind for a moment like this. He had no idea what the enemy wanted with you, so he had to assume the worst.
Storms their base by himself. Sniffs you out through a maze of bunkers and underground tunnels and infinitely many heavily secured doors. And the rest of the force just watches his six. Stands back feeling a little nauseous, but letting him blaze down his war path. Any and everyone who gets in his way is guilty unless they can prove their innocence- and they don’t get the chance. Runs through all his ammo gunning down countless grunts and privates stationed outside the base of planted as decoys. Specifically demanding that Price be the one to give up his weapons and ammo so he can continue on. And it’s the one time that the captain allows him to snarl orders like that.
Price knows that Simon is, in his core, a fighting dog. Rescued by the force and given an opportunity to channel his aggression into a more productive outlet. And now it seems all his hard work and training is coming unraveled. Watching Simon once again snap his jaws and bare his teeth, killing without rhyme or reason to get you back, is jarring to say the least. So in some last-ditch effort to preserve some of the trust that they’d built, he surrenders. Shows his belly. Shrugs off his rifle with no objection other than the way his mouth drew into a tight line.
Simon kicks through heavy metal reinforced doors without the need for a battering ram. Pushes himself well past the point of exhaustion. Fueled purely off the instinctual need to recover you. He can’t speak. Can’t eat. Can’t drink. Can’t stop.
He’d mow through the first few ranks of soldiers until they finally found someone that looked like they’d have at least a sliver of useful information and beat them within an inch of their life until they gave up the information that would eventually lead him to you.
In all honesty, you were probably taken with the intent to lure them in. Not anticipating your absence would have such an impact. Kept you bound in a guarded room. Roughed up a bit just from your struggle, but they hadn’t had time to interrogate you before they got word that 141 was coming in wild and sideways.
This would send Simon even further into madness. Body aching, bleeding from his knuckles. His knees and shoulders screaming their protest when he broke down the door, sending it crashing into the room. And the first thing he sees is you huddled in a corner blindfolded and bound with handcuffs that were cutting into your wrists from your trying to escape. He’d be an entirely different person. (I am giggling and kicking my feet.)
He wouldn’t even bother wasting time with the rifle. He’d handle what few guards were left with his bare hands. Possessed by some kind of superhuman strength. Catching a second wind the moment he laid eyes on you. He’d rush over, the rest of the boys standing guard in the hallway, and break you free from your restraints.
And as much as I would want him to be sweet and coddle you and coo over you, he’d probably be riding such a high that he wouldn’t be able to. He’d immediately start in on you, but with significantly less ferocity than he had with Price.
“You got a fuckin’ death wish? Think they’d turn you into a martyr for bein’ a medic on the field? Real original fuckin’ concept, yeah?”
He’d pull you in close to him, giving you an incredibly detailed once over. Inspecting your face and neck and arms legs for any further damage, and once he determined after three checks that all your wounds were purely superficial, he’d allow his hands to shake just slightly when he smoothed your hair back off your forehead.
#cod mw2#call of duty#cod x reader#141 headcanons#ghost cod#ghost mw2#simon ghost riley#simon riley#drabble#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#moongreenlight#moongreenlightwrites
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Mélange
Pairing: Okkotsu Yuta x gn!reader
Synopsis: Sometimes humans are not above animals. Sometimes they burn to fulfill the same basic needs and not strive for more in the moment. A full belly, safety, procreation. What happens when all three of them need to be satisfied? Tinged with spice. Under the influence of an unknown substance.
CW: aphrodisiac, dubcon, slight somnophilia, feral and animalistic Yuta, he has cannibalistic thoughts, licking, lovebites, scratching, biting, slight pain, handjob, premature ejaculation, fingering, Reader can feel Yuta’s ring during fingering, slight dacryphilia if you squint, implied multiple rounds, porn with feelings, good old unprotected sex + creampie, both Reader and Yuta are ultra possessive in their own toxic way <33
WC: 3.6k
Credits: my dearest @notveryrussian for proofreading this mess and doing a bit of rework on the tenses <33 the cannibalcore pics are from pinterest
Song rec: needles and pins by deftones and gibson girl by ethel cain both give a nice vibe to the fic as we slowly transition from Yuta's POV to Reader's POV
A/N: Can't believe I'm posting my first one shot here 🥹 After so many unsuccessful attempts to wrap up multichaptered fics, at least, this one messy smut got finished. My first ever finished fic 🥹 And the first to get completed in a relatively short time. Yes, a week is a short time for me. And happy holidays to y’all, this is gonna be the last fic in this year so expect only shitposts from me from now on lmao.
Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
Minors do not interact or else I'm gonna go apeshit, also a seperate warning for heavy dark content as usual. If there's anything mentioned in the tags that you're not comfortable with, this is not your fic.
Many sorcerers envy the title of special grade. Yuta thinks these people deserve a separate Naraka in Hell. They don’t realize the immense responsibility, they can’t fathom the challenges, the danger of the missions. The threat those curses pose. They only care about the power he carries.
During today’s mission, Yuta realized he’s not entirely an unstoppable force. Even someone like him is weak to certain fighting styles, he can’t counter everything with his wide range of copied techniques. This curse’s grade was well deserved. Whenever the katana slashed deep into it’s skin, a strange kind of gas was emitted from the wounds. Though he eventually exorcised the curse, he did breathe in the weird, sweet-smelling substance. The scent was hard to resist, it felt like the perfect mixture of all his favorite smells, inviting and comforting. However, he trusted his body to withstand the temptation, reinforced to near perfection with cursed energy and the usage of reversed cursed technique.
There was no problem until he finished reporting back to the higher ups and was on the way home. Maybe it was just the fatigue, the late summer heat, the humidity of the night but something made him feel weird. Almost sick. A thin veil of sweat glistened on his skin, his cheeks, ears and upper body were flushed. His chest was heaving, a burning, aching sensation tormented him between his legs, throbbing with a synced rhythm to his heartbeat. All his thoughts narrowed down to one single, inherently primal thing. A need. A hunger.
Shame and confusion swelled inside his chest. How can he lose his composure? How can he want it so badly? If he wasn’t so wired for monogamy, he would have fucked anyone who moved. And with every passing minute the feeling was getting worse. Descending slowly to the brink of madness. Hell, he was close to wheezing and growling like a rabid dog. He already had no patience to find the right key to the door. He could break that shit, he definitely could. He had no idea why, but he could stop himself from doing that. Maybe the insane price to get it fixed.
But the comfort of his home isn’t helping him. He can’t calm down, he can’t unwind. On the contrary, everything intensifies the strange urge in him to act territorial. But it’s only natural when he grew up feeling like he didn’t have anything he could call his own, whether it’s a material possession or a person. Every comprehensible thought vanished from his head. Leaving only the instincts. The need to claim. He immediately goes to the bedroom, not even bothering to have a quick shower or a light meal.
He gazes at your sleeping form, unknowing and peaceful. Innocent and vulnerable like a newborn lamb and he’s… he wouldn’t compare himself to a wolf, he’s a more vicious predator than that, all starved and keen on capturing its prey. Your limbs are thrown in every direction on the mattress, a thin, silk blanket barely concealing your body, but you’re hugging a some of it to your chest. Like you’re missing him, finding solace in the way the material is touching you. The windows are wide open, hoping that the night air can cool you down.
Yuta caught himself almost drooling at the sight. He can’t stop himself, he can’t fight the shameless thoughts plaguing him. The need, the want is stronger than what he deems right in the moment. His steps are quiet, that part of the floor that normally creaks is now completely silent. He looms over you, like a sinful, ungodly spirit, your very own kanashibari that’s bound to you. His weight is pressing down on the mattress ever so slightly, caging your form between his arms. He breathes in the smell of your freshly showered skin. A mixture of heady vanilla, milk and honey. He mindlessly licks a stripe up your thigh, wanting to taste you, to bite you, to tear out a big chunk of your flesh with his teeth to satisfy this torturous hunger he feels for you. More than anything he wants to devour you. Completely. Have you all for himself. The thought alone makes his dick so hard it’s outright painful.
He ascends towards your hips, leaving soft yet wet kisses that make you twitch in your sleep. Yuta swears that he’s more sensitive to all stimuli, his senses are working at their maximum capacity. He’s able to feel every morsel, every particle of you. The soft peach fuzz, the bumps, the ridges of your stretch marks, their pearl-like glistening texture flowing on the surface of your skin like a river. The material of your shorts, loose and thin, he can feel the seams on the band of your underwear through the fabric. Where the bones bend, where flesh folds. Your smell. Not just from the shower gel and the laundry detergent but your natural scent, so strong he believes it’s some kind of weird pheromone that’s driving him wild. To the point he almost considers nudging his nose between your legs, just like dogs do when they smell blood there.
Maybe it’s not entirely wrong to claim you this way. He can spare you from this more primal side of him, you won’t get to see it and despise him for it. It’s enough if he deals with the shame alone, self-deprecation is his ultimate talent afterall. But that can wait until after he finished soothing this excruciating itch. Because now the last remnant of his resolve goes out the window.
He pulls up your shirt all the way up to your chest. His shirt to be exact. It makes his heart flutter, a piece of him enveloping you, makes the boundaries between your sense of selves blend and blur. The thought of you using his stuff as your own feels so right, so promising.
He practically glues his face to the expanse of your stomach. The flesh is so soft between his teeth, feels so good to bite on it, so easy to suck on it until the skin turns a deep purple.
And maybe… maybe he can lower his crotch onto your knees. Just a little. Just for a little friction…
You stir, opening your eyes slowly, tiredness and confusion are still heavy on your expression. And then you feel teeth nipping at your stomach, fingers digging into the dips of your hips firmly, some wetness here and there along your leg.
Your first response is fear.
You start to squirm and fuss, kicking your legs up in the air, not even thinking about who’s doing this to you until Yuta grips your shoulders and pushes you back into the sheets, keeping you still by the weight of his own body, shushing you. You can feel his nails penetrating the skin, branding the crescent Moon itself into your flesh.
“It’s me, don’t panic.”
You’d recognize this voice anywhere, but you blinked a few times just to clear your vision. The striking white of his coat is easy to spot, even in the dimly lit darkness of the room.
“Yuta…?”
Your voice is an ode, a blessing. Even when it’s hoarse and faint after waking up. He bends down and kisses your temple, nuzzling into your hairline, breathing in your scent. His body feels oddly warm, almost overly so, radiating through you. Through your spine, to the very center of your being and that’s when you notice that you’re a little bit… hot and bothered. What has he done to you while you were asleep?
“I’m so sorry…” he whispers an apology. But his voice is just… it’s like his mind is not entirely here. Something is hurting him and he’s trying to conceal it. Barely. You can hear his voice is hitched from the deep breath he takes, in a futile affort to calm himself. “Have you been sleeping for long?”
He asks you for the sake of it, there’s no genuine interest behind it. Even if you were sleeping for hours, it wouldn’t stop him. He couldn’t stop. He genuinely feels like he’ll die if he can’t get it out of his system. He snuggles his face into the crook of your neck, listening to the rhythm of life coursing through your veins. The thought of puncturing your jugular with his teeth is so irresistible. He must do it… It’ll drive him insane if he won’t.
“N-not really.” your answer is weak, all your strength is used to move your arm freely, trying to locate your phone on the bedside table. The light coming from the screen almost blinds you as you’re checking the time. “I went to bed about… half an hour ago.”
He dips his fingers right into the hollow dips between your ribs, he kneads the skin in a way that has his nails slightly scratching you. And then you realize that you’re almost entirely topless.
He traps your earlobe with his teeth, sucking on the soft tissue.
“Y-Yuta…” your voice is more reprimanding that you want it to be. But your patience is starting to run thin. You want to know what the fuck is wrong with him, he never did anything like this before. Even if he’s horny as hell he would ask for your permission because that’s the way he is.
Instead of giving you an answer he bites your neck. Hard. It hurts, it makes you yelp. Shit, that’s gonna leave a mark. And he growls, just like a wild animal.
You squirm, you jolt, trying to get away from the source of your pain with a prolonged hiss. Only one hand of his is enough to stop you from fussing while the other fondles your chest. Your nipple is caught between his fingers, he twists it slightly. You can’t see it getting red, hard and swollen. His moves are awkward and tactless, but somehow they help with soothing the sharp pain in your neck. Your tensed body eases up a little.
He kicks the inner side of your knee with his own, creating a little space in between them, then forces your legs apart with one smooth movement. As he tries to settle right under your core, you feel him brushing the apex of your thigh.
He’s so painfully hard.
You’re sure he can read the instinctual reactions of your body. The rush of adrenaline, your pulse, how your heart is almost breaking your ribs with every beat. You’re getting more and more aware of your surroundings because you have no idea what will happen to you. He pins your wrists down on the bed. He doesn’t want you to escape.
What has gotten into him? Where’s your shy and gentle man, your sweet little angel? The one who needs so much guidance, who gets so awkward about his lack of experience compared to you. The one you need to encourage to talk about what he likes since you won’t judge him for it. Well, angels shouldn’t be benevolent and sweet, right? They’re the soldiers of god after all. And the depth of his psyche is still very much a mystery to you…
“I don’t want to hurt you… I just need you.”
He has no control over his own thoughts, everything on his mind gets blabbered out. Not just that he needs you, but that he wants to fuck you (he rarely uses that word so you’re even more baffled), that he wants to eat you up, bite for bite, digest you so nobody else can have you.
It sounds devoted yet utterly terrifying.
“You’re-“
He’s scary. Well, you knew this prior to crawling into his life. What people thought about him, one rumor more unhinged than the other and you have no idea how much truth there was to them. Everyone has some sort of admiration, respect for him or repulsion of him. You just tend to forget sometimes, how malicious his cursed energy feels, how his eyes never reflect the light, looking outright dead. But it’s all so contradictory to his personality… you know that you’re dear to him, he’s willing to risk everything for his friends, he’s so starved for connection, to carve himself a place within people’s hearts. You blamed the whole phenomenon on Rika. And you took pride in yourself, for taming a monster.
“I feel so…” he suspires, trying his best to contain himself. “… weird.”
And he’s a kind monster indeed, even now, controlling his impulses as he humps your thigh like a feral dog.
“I don’t know if I’m able to hold back, so I need to know….”
His voice is desperate, almost a plea. He’s afraid of himself too. With the last bit of his sanity, he wants to make sure that it’s alright for you, whatever he has in store for you.
You don’t protest.
His lips crash into yours in a violent, hungry kiss. Your teeth clang together, he shoves his entire tongue in your mouth. He grabs the hem of your shorts, peeling off anything that covers you below the waist. You hear the fabric tear. It’s the same with his own clothes too, in a few blinks of your eyes he’s already stark naked.
He takes your hand, pulls it towards him, you can feel him in your palm. So hot, hard and swollen to the touch. He closes your fingers around him and his hips start moving back and forth, fucking himself into your grip. You smear the precum along his length with your fingertips, squeezing lightly when you feel the base. It has him moaning, breathily, more vocal than he usually is. He’s so sensitive, his pace quickens and his voice is thinner, almost like a whimper.
And he groans. Unexpectedly. It bursts deep from his throat. You feel his cum pooling in your palm. Though you may be surprised, you don’t make a big deal about it. You search for tissues on the bedside table to clean your hand like nothing happened.
“Feelin’ okay?”
Your voice is calming, tender, it warms his heart but the mere sight of his cum on your hand makes the blood rush to his dick again.
You sit up to caress his face. You open your mouth to question him, but he won’t let you start your aftercare routine.
“It’s… not enough.”
He grabs your thigh, hooking your leg over his shoulder, giving him better access to your naked core. Your back falls onto the mattress again.
“I’ll take care of you.”
It’s a promise, you’re sure of it.
His fingertips sink into your folds, relief ripples through him when he finds them already wet. He goes all out on you, his thumb circles your clit and two fingers dip in at your entrance, waiting to loosen you up so they can be pushed inside. His nails gently caress your inner thigh, it’s a tickling sensation, goosebumps dot your skin, a sigh dies on your lips. Treating it as a sign, his fingers start stretching your walls. They curl and curl inside you to the point of the cold band of his ring touching your folds, your essence soiling the stainless metal. The symbol of the haunting spirit of his first love. Childish love that it is, unserious, all just a game. The promises… the word forever holds no weight. Or maybe it does but they have no idea how hard it is to maintain those vows.
Can you ever compare to Rika in his eyes? Have the same effect over him? You don’t dare to talk about it just yet. No, the nature of your relationship is not the same. Childhood love is not like adult love, you just want some reassurance. You want to feel important.
And your reassurance is soaking that wretched finger with your juices. Make that wretched ring yours. He spreads his fingers inside you, scissoring you apart, eagerly working to prepare you. You’re holding onto the sheets and the pillows desperately, your body feels so volatile you might as well float away.
When he pulls out you feel hollow, incomplete. But he won’t keep you waiting long. The head of his cock feels like salvation. Scorching hot and wet with the mixed arousal. And he completes you with one smooth thrust. You’re whole, fulfilled, a merged existence worth suffering over. He’s throbbing deep within your walls, pulsating through your nerves. You can’t tell if the noise coming out of him is a moan, a whine, or a growl, you only know that it’s bordering on bestial. Filled with need, an ache, coupled with something beyond your comprehension.
He drills into you, there’s so much strength and resilience in him, it almost makes you scared. But something else also swells inside your chest. An unknown kind of excitement, a thrill, it makes you feverish, wired. The dissonance between his absolutely feral state and the fact that he’d never hurt you. Or maybe he would, in a way that you’d like it. Nobody could bite through your throat with such force that your windpipe breaks, only him, him and no one else.
He holds you at the back of your pelvic bone, lifts you up in an utterly perfect angle. You mewl him that it feels so good, so perfect, so raw. You love this feeling so much. You get completely lost and immersed in it.
“…it?”
His voice is faint yet his broken self-worth shines through it. Poor soul… You didn’t pay attention to his most important desire. He’s a parasite living off of your kind words, but nothing can make him as blissful as knowing you love him, despite everything he despises about himself. And you’ll feed him. Prove it to him that he matters more than the things he does to you.
“Oh Yuta, my sweet…” the rest of the sentence gets stuck in your throat as you open your arms and he crashes into your embrace like a lost, lonely puppy. You hug him tightly, brushing through his locks with a free hand. The sweat makes the strands stick together. “Of course I love you, don’t be silly.”
He might as well have been a puppy in his previous life. And now your words eased his guilt about his temporary condition. He gained your forgiveness.
What he does next is much more instinctual. He folds you in half, where your knees bend, is pressed right against his traps, your heels graze the middle of his back. Now his thrusts have weight, uncovering spots that even you had no idea that existed inside of you. Tears of joy prickle in your eyes, calling upon whatever deity’s name you can think of, off the top of your head. You can swear his pace increases at the sight. It’s so intense a broken cry erupts from your throat.
He thrusts right into a sweet spot, which has you melting and trembling. Please is the only word your lips can form. At this point, you couldn’t care less about the lewd sounds of your skin slapping together or the squelching noises that make the whole act sloppy, shameless and primal, you only want to reach your peak, and you’re not far from it as you’re clenching around him with a rhythm that you have no control over.
It crashes, it ruptures, sudden, sharp and hot like an electric spark. A scream empties your lungs, but Yuta muffles it with sealing his mouth onto yours. You feel yourself getting filled as you’re convulsing around his length.
After he fucks you through your orgasm you feel yourself shaking, your whole body is limp, numb, drifting slowly to sleep. You’re both soaked in sweat, your bodies stick together but there’s a need to bond further in each other’s embrace. You plant a kiss between his locks, praising him, telling him you love him. Satisfaction clouds your mind, like a soft, pillowy pink mist.
However, his cock is still not soft.
“I have no idea what has gotten into you.” you tell him, marveling, as you’re still catching on your breath. “I like it though, but you owe me an explanation.”
He handles you gently, like you’re some precious thing, made from glass, fragile. Your body is like a ragdoll’s, he has you lying on your stomach, lazily, flatly, you might as well fuse together with the mattress. Calloused fingers are drawing nonfigurative shapes on your shoulder blades.
“I’ll tell you right after we finish.”
Your blood runs cold for a moment.
“Again? Yuta, for the love of god I’m exhausted.” you whine.
He apologetically kisses your spine.
“Just this one, okay? Please? I’ll do all the work, I’ll make it quick. You only need to relax, you can sleep even.”
You want to tell him that sounds a little bit creepy, but you don’t have the strength to talk. He kisses the two shallow dimples right above your tailbone. His gaze lingers on your folds, admiring how red and swollen you are.
“If you manage to make me cum again, you deserve a fucking award.” you comment, face nuzzled into the pillow, your voice is obviously snarky.
You can feel teeth sinking into the flesh of your asscheek. The mark that is burning on your neck found it’s pair. He presses down your overly sensitive clit with his thumb, balancing the pain out with pleasure. But it gets overstimulated so easily, you feel the need to bite the pillow.
You brace yourself with a deep breath through your nose. You’re going to pay him back next time, you promise yourself that you’ll make a begging, crying mess out of him, and the thought makes you chuckle.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#yuta okkotsu x reader#okkotsu yuta x reader#okkotsu yuuta x reader#do not perceive me please idk how I came up with the whole cannibalcore pipeline#yuta okkotsu x you#jjk x reader#meesa writes
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7.6k / pairing: dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader
Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4
summary: Joel invites you over for a movie night with your parents and Sarah out of town. How are you supposed to focus on the film with his hand on your thigh?
warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, neighbor!joel, age gap (reader is in their early 20s while Joel is in his 40s), cursing, alcohol consumption, use of pet names, softdom! Joel AND dom!Joel (restraint by command), oral sex (m receiving), praise kink, reader titty appreciation, super descript about Joel’s bulging biceps (we all know the picture that came out with him holding onto his luggage and I have not REST)
A/N: I wrote all of this today.. I don't know what's wrong with me. I hope you enjoy! I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope these two are growing on ya'll as much as they're growing on me <33
Joel could sense the shift, his hand coming to gently cup your cheek and bring your eyes back to his. He didn’t look mad like you maybe expected of him.
You could feel his jaw going slack under your thumb, your mouth sucking in the side of your cheek as you sat in awkward silence. You sort of wanted to leap out of his lap and return to the movie. But he wouldn’t let you, he planted you there with his hand on your hip and forced you to look at him. You teetered your wine glass on his shoulder.
“You wanna kiss me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, causing a few syllables to be cut out due to the raspiness. You slowly nod. A beat passes. “Why won’t ya let me then?”
A few times throughout the summer, the lakehouse was yours and yours alone. While on vacation, your parents always make it a point to go out to dinner and drinks with their old friends that lived in a neighboring town, leaving you in blissful solitude.
You used to go with them when you were younger, too young to be left home alone. You’d hang out with their son, Nathan, on the tire swing or go swimming in their pool.
Once you and Nathan both turned thirteen, you found that Nathan was involved in a lot of sports leagues that summer, and therefore he wasn’t going to be around much. Your parents didn’t want to punish you and force you to hang out with four grown adults all day, so they let you stay behind at the lakehouse.
It was your first sense of freedom, taking care of yourself, having your own routine. You remember breaking into your piggy bank and riding your bike into town with Sarah that day to play at the arcade. You came back home with your lackluster arcade prizes and made mediocre hot dogs. It was a little lonely, the house often bustling with noise from your parents, but it was also serene to be alone.
Needless to say, you were at peace to wave your parents off this morning as they backed out of the driveway and left you and the lakehouse for the day.
Your eyes flitted over to the Miller’s. Both Joel’s pickup truck and Sarah’s used and abused 2000’s red Saturn were parked in the shade. Part of you couldn’t believe Sarah could even drive. That five-year-ish age difference felt even more profound as young adults.
You tried to find ways to busy yourself tonight until your date with Joel. Date? Not a date. Hang out. Movie night. Meet up. Rendezvous. Literally any other word besides date.
You needed to distract yourself because tonight was a ways away.
You busied yourself with cleaning your room and bathroom, followed by reading on the dock. When it got too warm, you took a refreshing dip in the lake, followed by some leisurely sunbathing. After a shower, you found solace in jotting down your thoughts in your journal, channeling any residual nerves about the upcoming night.
You found that documenting your summer experiences provided you with a sense of clarity. You aimed to revisit these entries later in life, reminiscing about the intensity of your emotions. These pages held memories of your first boyfriend, the elation of passing your driving test, the ache of lost friendships, and the journey to college.
After the bonfire, before you couldn’t even think about sleeping, you were ferociously writing in your journal. The way your heart raced, the way you were so proud of yourself for taking a leap of faith with Joel. Because it was so, so worth it.
In the decades to come, the memories you once experienced that felt so fresh would naturally fade. That’s the point of your journals, to document how deeply you felt about your life at the time. Pouring your emotions onto the page felt like tending to a wounded heart. In hindsight, those entries about sadness and turmoil elicited a little giggle. Your mom always told you that it was better to feel anything than not to feel at all.
You wondered how much Joel felt, like, really felt. On the surface, he was as cold and unmoveable as stone. What was he like with his passions and the people he cared about? You knew he loved Sarah to an unimaginable degree. He would do anything for her. But besides his own blood, what were the things he cared about?
After putting pen to paper, you shoved your journal under your pillow and started to get ready. You over-dicked-around, and now the clock was ticking.
You wanted to look somewhat nice. After your recent interactions with Joel, one where you quite literally looked like you just rolled out of bed, you were keen on looking at least somewhat presentable.
But it was a movie night, after all, and you wanted to be comfortable. You opted to wear something simple, not too date-ey, not too casual. But you did wear Joel’s hoodie. It wasn’t for any overt purpose but because Joel’s house consistently seemed to mimic an icebox. Joel struck you as someone who could thrive in Alaska, content in solitude amid the cold.
The hoodie still smelled like him, mixed with a little residual bonfire smoke, but his scent was still deeply lodged into the fabric. A navy hoodie with fraying material around the neckline and cuffs. Well-worn and well-loved. He must have loved it enough not to take it to work because it was free of any stains and rips from what you could tell.
You twirled your finger around the hoodie’s strings, looking yourself over slowly in the mirror. Your eagerness practically floated you over to Joel’s house, Sarah’s car now gone. She must have left for her camping trip.
After taking cautious steps up Joel’s rickety porch, you sent a rhythmic knock against the Miller’s front door. You heard a few heavy steps on the other side, hearing a lock flip before Joel appeared in front of you.
“It’s about time, I was starting to sweat.” You said as you pulled open the screen door that divided you two before walking past him, catching his subtle eye roll as you did so.
The house looked like the same as it did ten years ago. Lots of dark wood, a cozy living room with a fireplace, and a lamp in the corner by the window. Joel had the perfect view of the lake. You naturally gravitated further into the room to look at the water glisten as the last hits of sunshine glided over the horizon.
“You want somethin’ to drink?”
Your head snapped to Joel, your arms already crossed at the cooler temperature piercing through the material of your clothes.
“Yeah, what do you have?” Your small steps trekked into the kitchen, finally taking a full look at Joel. Your face faltered at the sight of him.
Joel had traded in his usual tattered green flannel for a nicer, cleaner denim button-up. He had on his staple worn-in jeans, and for whatever reason, he still had on his work boots. But his hair was sort of run-through, freshly showered and combed back. He looked handsome, clean, like he was trying.
You slyly smiled at him. He seemed to quickly catch your drift, already avoiding your eye contact with a huff.
“I got... Whiskey,”
“Ew, no.”
“Root beer,”
“Nope.”
Joel let out an excruciatingly long sigh as he ducked his head further into the depths of his fridge, mumbling something about you being a piece of work.
“It’s water, or,” with a groan, he stood up from the fridge, “this bottle of wine. Probably old.”
Old? The bottle looked nothing but. No dust, fresh label, barely chilled. You didn’t want to call out the poor man for trying to make tonight classy, but you knew Joel had purchased this bottle of wine for tonight. For you.
If it were any other date or any other guy, you would have pushed his nose into it a bit. Teased them for caring and being so sweet. But this wasn’t any other guy, this was Joel. And if you ever tried to admit that you saw right through him, he would clam up for the rest of the evening out of his adorable bashfulness. So you let it be. For now.
“Wine’s good.” You say casually with a little nod, trying to relax your cocky smile. Even when he turned around to fetch some old wine glasses inside the very top of a kitchen cabinet, you could tell he was satisfied with himself. Hiding a smile with his back turned.
You pulled the bottle closer to read the label. You rolled it around in your hand, your thumb tracing the stamped lettering. Cherry wine.
“Haven’t had a chance to eat all day, got us some pizzas,” Joel said as his head nodded to the side, following the direction to two pizzas still warm and in their cardboard box homes on the counter.
“Can’t have a movie night without pizza.” Your voice cooed as you set down the wine to take a peak inside, seeing all of its cheesy glory.
Joel topped off a singular wine glass, your head twisting curiously at just the one. He clinked your glass with his beer bottle, and you rolled your eyes.
“Thanks.” You murmured, turning on your heel to grab your glass and one of the pizza boxes before walking it to his living room.
You sat right in the middle of the couch, not giving Joel any excuse to sit too far away.
“Scootch,” Joel said as he motioned with his beer bottle to make room on the couch. You made a little noise of disapproval toward him.
“Mm-mm.” You shook your head.
“What?”
Your sneaker tapped the heel of his boot.
“Take those off. You can’t relax during a movie still wearing work boots.”
He looked a little perplexed before looking down at his boots. Probably forgot they were even on. They were practically his spare feet at this point.
“Fine. You too.” He said as his steel toe gently nudged your sneakers in return. You softly nodded, both of you undoing your laces. Sitting on the couch arm, Joel worked to loosen one boot and then the other, hearing the methodical snap of the laces. You slip yours off with ease, picking them up by the upper heel collar and tossing them by the door. Joel just kicked his aside and sat down next to you with a thump into the cushion.
“We’re watching Pride & Prejudice.” You commandeered the remote out of his hand, his eyebrow cocking to you in disbelief.
“The hell is that?”
Disbelief tangled your facial expression. “You’ve never seen Pride & Prejudice?”
Joel’s cocked his head to the side, face sitting like stone. Really?
“Do I look like the type’a guy that watches Pride & Prejudices?”
You rolled your eyes and huffed.
“It’s based on the novel by Jane Austen. About... literally so much. The independence of women. Societal norms relating to gender and marriage. Any of this ring a bell?”
“I know Sarah likes it. That’s about it.”
Your smile quips up as you click play. “Perfect.”
“Do we have to?” His annoyance held no restraint.
“This movie night is to get back into my good graces, is it not?” You asked as your body leaned away, getting a good look at him.
Through tight lips, he held back a smile before nodding a little and turning to the opening credits. “Yes, ma’am.”
It didn’t take long for Joel’s arm to settle around your shoulders, bringing your body into his side. His thumb was stroking the hoodie you wore, his hoodie.
In his close proximity once again, your senses pick up on his now all too familiar scent; Woody, minty, a little bit of citrus from his body wash. He smelled good, you wonder if he wore cologne tonight or if this was his natural musk. You wouldn’t put it past Joel to naturally smell this good. He was good at a lot of things without even trying.
A few slices of pizza and two glasses of wine later, you started to feel the weight of Joel’s unbearably heavy arm. You released yourself from him and opted to turn and rest your side against the back of the couch cushions, putting your legs in his lap.
You hadn’t been watching the movie for the last twenty minutes. Couldn’t stop trying to subtly look at how handsome Joel looked in the flicker of the television’s light from your peripheral. You couldn’t help it. He looked so big and hot, like a lumberjack, his stupid build alone making you fold.
You bite at the inside of your cheek as Joel’s large and warm palm gently make slow strokes up and down your calf. Your body was trying not to twitch. Your heart was thrumming in your throat. You glanced up at him again, his eyes lasered in on the television.
“Why’d he…” Joel’s voice trailed off, bringing your attention back to the screen.
Your eyelashes fluttered, your brain trying to get you out of Joel Fantasy World and back into the film. “Hm? What?”
“Why’d his hand cramp like that? Why’d they film that part?” Without intention, Joel’s curiosity was evident in his question. It immediately made you smile as you watched the television again, your body slumping into his side.
“It’s not a hand cramp, he’s flexing it. It’s the film’s interpretation of his like… emotional turmoil and struggle. His feelings are evolving for Elizabeth, though he’s trying to appear all aloof and distant towards her. But their physical connection, he can’t really hide it, y’know? He can’t hide how he feels. So he flexes his hand because he’s affected by her presence and her touch. He can’t help it.”
Joel’s hanging onto every word you say. You’re not so sure if he’s interested in the film as much as he is in hearing you talk about it. The hand that was messing around on your calf was now trailing higher up your thigh. And flexing the higher it climbed.
Your eyes looked from his amber ones to his lips, your heart racing faster in your chest. With one hand still clutching your wine glass, you managed to swing one leg over his lap to straddle him. You folded first. You couldn’t take Joel’s achingly slow touches.
His enjoyment was obvious in his movements, his calloused hands slowly pushing up your thighs until they landed on the security of your waist. He was gripping the hoodie in his fists, observing your silhouette.
“This mine, too.” It wasn’t a question, he was pointing it out to you. Joel giving you his own clothes to wear was by no mistake. It was a way of marking what was his, even if it was just in his mind.
“Mine now.” Your words were whispered, leaning down and kissing at the hook of his jawline.
“Like you in it. Wear it a hell’uva lot better than I do.” The shift in his voice was clear, huskier, and a little touch drunk. The film’s volume seemed softer now, playing as white noise and falling abandoned.
His words made your stomach flip, your teeth purposely grazing against his skin. The motion made his hands trail down lower to the globes of your ass, humbly squeezing the flesh with the spans of his palms. A weak moan left your lips against his ear as he planted kisses on the inner side of your neck and on your shoulder. He was so fuckin’ greedy for you.
“Joel,” you whispered between kisses along his jawline, lips coming up to his chin as one of your hands gently cupped the side of his neck while the other clutched your wine glass for dear life.
As soon as your lips came close to his, you faltered. And Joel could tell.
Suddenly both of your eyes were open, soft, and holding contact. Your lips parted, but nothing came out. The only thing that actually came from you was a little sigh of disappointment, your eyes shyly flitting away.
Joel could sense the shift, his hand coming to gently cup your cheek and bring your eyes back to his. He didn’t look mad like you maybe expected of him.
You could feel his jaw going slack under your thumb, your mouth sucking in the side of your cheek as you sat in awkward silence. You sort of wanted to leap out of his lap and return to the movie. But he wouldn’t let you, he planted you there with his hand on your hip and forced you to look at him. You teetered your wine glass on his shoulder.
“You wanna kiss me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, causing a few syllables to be cut out due to the raspiness. You slowly nod. A beat passes. “Why won’t ya let me then?”
This was Joel’s second or so attempt to kiss you. The first time was on the tailgate of his truck, you didn’t even think about letting him kiss you in his woodshed.
You weren’t trying to remain mysterious or aloof, something he managed to do so naturally. You shifted in his lap uncomfortably, your eyes drifting to the window behind his head and watching the water shift in the black of night.
“It’s not that deep, Joel. Just don’t want anyone to get attached.” You shrug and shake your head. “I don’t know, who cares?”
“I care.” Even blasted on movie pizza and beers, he was as quick as a whip. His care wasn’t soft, it was strong. He cared like a fiercely loyal shield.
You exhaled a deep sigh, your chest reflecting your breath as he slowly brought you back to him.
“I’m scared that I’ll like it.” The movie’s distant volume was comforting white noise to your nerve-wracked conversation with Joel. This was perhaps the most you’ve talked with him in one sitting. And about something so deeply personal, too.
He took in what you said, slowly beginning to shake his head as his hand cupped more seriously against your jawline.
“”t’s just a kiss.” His tone was seductive, sincere. Whispering like no one else in the world could hear. “Kiss me.”
You didn’t feel pressured, Joel was looking at you like he genuinely cared about what you had to say. About the movie, about the kissing. He bought you wine, he got pizzas, and he’s suffering through a period drama to sit beside you on his couch. Damn you, Joel Miller.
You felt your body relax into his again, no longer cold and rigid. Your bodies meshed as you fell into the front of his chest, your hand on his neck moving up to cup his jaw. You tilted up his face and received no resistance. Just kiss him.
You met his lips, soft and sweet, delicate and gentle. Your hand slipped from his jaw and landed absentmindedly on his chest, feeling his thumping heartbeat against your palm.
You didn’t pull away. It was impossible.
He tasted like mint and whiskey, with hints of residual smoke from a cigarette earlier in the day. You wouldn’t know he smoked unless you were tasting him like you were right now.
Joel was encouraging something out of you, deep and primal, as you let the kiss deepen. He took the lead with a heady mix of softness and urgency.
He set a scorching fire between your legs, purely drunk on his lips alone. It sent a shiver down your spine how intense this stone-like man could be. Your mouths moved with desire and rhythm, feeling an electric spark that sent your senses ablaze.
Goosebumps had sprinkled across the skin of your arms, your once soft hand on his jaw now clutching him there and tugging lightly at his curly tendrils. You weren’t letting him go.
Your sounds filled the room, hot and wet kisses punching the air from both of your lungs.
A breath was shared, your forehead on his as both of your chests rose and fell together.
His eyes caught yours. More?
You gently nod. Please.
He was back with you in a hot heat, both of you wanting, no, needing more of one another.
He balanced a tantalizing fusion of passion and longing, a magnetic pull that had you grinding your hips down into his lap.
The world around you faded into a blur as you felt his tongue glide across your lower lip, asking permission. Your lips easily parted, tongues dancing and melting, your hands shaking a bit in excitement.
Joel was consuming you. His tongue marking his territory as he explored your mouth before kissing you heatedly once more. You realized that the kiss wasn’t an exploration of feelings at all, Joel wanted to languish in your taste, stake out the claim of your mouth. Taste and territory.
A low grunt left the depths of his throat as your hips ground over him with desperation now. You could feel his dick swelling against your ass.
Your lips quirked up in a smirk against his, you liked that you could feel his facial expressions, and he, yours.
Without thinking, you went to cup his face in both hands, your wine glass dropping onto Joel’s chest, and what little wine you had left was splashing his denim button-up red. He didn’t even notice.
“Joel--, wait,” you were breathless as you pulled away, his lips moving to the open expanse of your neck instead, his arms tight around your lower back. He could care less about his shirt, or the wine, or the spare glass rolling around between your stomachs.
You laughed breathlessly, closing your eyes as you kept your chests apart, careful not to get wine on his favorite sweatshirt next. Your head fell back, your hair fanning out as you grinned at the ceiling.
“Joel, your shirt is stained.” You tried to point out, both of your hands clamped onto his shoulders weakly to keep him at a distance. But his lust-filled lips had a taste of you that he couldn’t replace. His teeth grazed the soft skin of your neck, wincing lightly as you let out a broken little whimper.
“Don’t care.”
Oh my god. Fuck. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, desperate for more, but you weren’t going to let him stain one of maybe three decent shirts he owned. And with wine, you had to be fast acting.
“Come on,” you said weakly, not even convinced yourself to break away. “Joel, your shirt-”
“Don’t. Care.” He growled through gritted teeth, eyes hungry as you felt him lick a hot, slow stripe up your neck to your jaw. Fuck, he felt so good.
Despite his clear lack of empathy for his shirt, you felt bad because it was your spill, your accident to try and make up to him.
You rolled your eyes playfully and shook your head. He didn’t stop until you planted both palms against his pecs and pushed him back with little force, watching as he fell into the cushions with a lazy smirk on his face as he looked over you. Joel was drunk off your kiss.
You found your footing on the hardwood floors, grabbing his hands and attempting to pull him up and off the couch. He playfully resisted, just kept sitting there as you weakly tried again.
“Stop bein’ such a dick.” You huffed. His laugh filled the room, nearly startling you. It was always quite the opportunity to hear him laugh so big like that.
“Couldn’t pull me up no matter how hard ya try.”
“Shut up. Stand up.” You ordered with little follow-through from Joel.
He yanked his hands from yours and planted his palms onto the tops of his thighs, pushing himself off the couch and following you aimlessly to his master bathroom.
“Do you have some hydrogen peroxide? Dishwasher detergent?”
He stayed silent but looked at you quizzically. You rolled your eyes and started looking through different cabinets.
“Baking soda?” Cocking your head to him, he nods and disappears before returning to you with the little orange Arm & Hammer cardboard box.
You cleared your throat and looked at him expectantly.
“Joel, I can’t clean the shirt with you wearing it. Take it off.”
As soon as the words left your mouth, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see his lips upturned in a cocky smirk. Sometimes you just wanted to smack it clean off his face.
Fine. With a sense of ferocity, you began to take him down button by button. He lets you. He even steps closer to your body, and you try not to get distracted by him.
“I don’t wanna be the one that messes up your nice shirts.” You murmur.
“t’s fine.” He cups your cheek again and tries to divert your attention once more. He’s not even actively trying to kiss you, he just wants to get a rise out of you now. You’re trying not to smile at him in the reflection of his bathroom mirror. Your elbow jabs into his bare abdomen after you’ve peeled the wet material from his torso.
“Quit it.”
“Quit what?”
Forcing yourself to turn away from him wasn’t enough. Now he’s behind you planting kisses down the side of your neck with his hands on your waist and toying with the hem of your sweatshirt.
You had to admit being on his lap like that got you hot and bothered to the tenth degree. Now you were nursing a stained shirt and the ache in your core.
“‘lright, fine.” Oh, thank god. You could breathe again. You were this close to caving, and caving to Joel was a losing game.
He found a towel and wiped at his chest and torso while you blotted away with a paper towel the excess wine in his shirt. After getting out what you could, you sprinkled the baking soda over the little splashes of red and added a few drops of water to make somewhat of a paste. Now you just had to wait for it to dry and toss it in the laundry.
You hoped you didn’t ruin the denim shirt, you quite liked how he looked in it. The blue denim complimented the soft silver in his curls, and the cuffs rolled up accentuated his biceps.
Speaking of biceps. Your eyes innocently watched him move around the bathroom shirtless. He was somewhat toned, a handsome mix of dad bod and muscle. Like a sexy lumberjack. He was big and broad, wide in the shoulders and smaller in the waist. With all the summer log chopping, his biceps were toned.
A shaky breath left your mouth, his eyes catching yours in the mirror before you quickly looked away, washing your hands of the baking soda paste you had made.
“It’s uh… It’s good now. Just let it dry and put it in the washer. Alone. Without anything else in there.” You quickly nodded, over-clarifying again. You braved looking at him again in the mirror. Mistake. A smug little smile that beat up your guts was laced on his lips.
Your hand was quick to reach for the door handle, but his hand was already on your other wrist and pulling you into his front.
“Get back here,” Your name drips off his lips, and it’s drenched in lust.
Fuck it.
Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck, feeling his raised trap muscles under your forearms as your lips reunite with Joel’s.
Getting that first kiss between you two out of the way was a blessing in disguise because now you knew him. You were acquainted with his lips. You liked his taste, you liked how soft he was, you liked the stubble of his beard, and you liked the way his warm palms were on you as soon as you entered his space. He embraced every inch of you, his kisses were feverish, and they left your mind in a tailspin. No one had ever kissed you like this before.
You ducked your head down before he could stop you, kissing over his wine-spoiled chest. You kissed lower and lower before licking a slow stripe up his sternum, tasting residual cherry and sweetness from the wine.
Your lips parted as you looked in the mirror, realizing now that he had pinned both your wrists behind your back and planted them at your tailbone.
Your doe eyes innocently looked up at him, his face masked in desire and an appetite for you.
“Get on your knees.”
A breath hitched in your throat, your eyes trying to focus as you looked over Joel’s face. Your eyes fluttered down to his biceps, strong and defined with veins lining like rivers coursing along the curves as they held your wrists back. You didn’t hesitate to drop down to your knees.
He had let go of your wrists, so you brought your hands up to undo the button of his jeans, but he tsk-ed you.
“But I-”
“But nothing. Put your hands behind your back again.” You pouted but obeyed. You wanted to touch him.
Your lips parted as you watched Joel pop open the button of his jeans, his thumbs lining the hem of his jeans and boxers at his hips before pushing them down to his thick thighs. His cock was already half-hard from when you were grinding on him back on the couch.
Your breaths grew heavier, you couldn’t manage to stay in his hoodie. You peeled the heavy navy sweatshirt off, leaving you in nothing underneath, which earned sweet praise from Joel as soon as you laced your hands once more behind your back.
“So fuckin’ pretty.. Look at you.” He lightly leaned over and cupped one of your tits, massaging it in the heart of his palm and rolling your taut nipple around with his thumb. A quiet whine was elicited from your throat, face crumbling as your hands fought hard not to release themselves behind your back.
You wanted to touch him, cup his face, hold his thighs, wrap your hand around his dick that was flush against his stomach.
A harsher tug to your nipple left you moaning, watching as he leaned down and let a long, long dribble of spit connect from his lips down onto your chest. Your head fell back at the cool sensation, feeling it aid the heat of your breasts.
He stood up tall again, broad and towering, as you glanced over to the mirror. The dynamic was almost charming. You on your knees for Joel, his blushing cock swelling against his happy trail. He was so handsome, so greedy.
Without thinking, you released your hands from around your back and moved to steady yourself on his thighs.
“Not gonna tell you again, pretty girl.” You paused and looked to Joel. “No usin’ your hands tonight. Just that dirty mouth a’yours.” His accent was drenched with lust, dripping like syrup.
You whined as you assumed your position with your hands away, not knowing what to expect if you tried to use them again.
You attempted to crawl closer to him, your knees practically between his slightly parted legs.
You kissed up his inner thigh, grinning lightly at the slight taste of his sweat. Your tongue kitten licked at his balls, hearing him seethe in a breath through gritted teeth. Sensitive, a little wrinkled, lightly groomed just for you. It made you smirk that he cared enough to trim.
You tested the waters, letting your warm mouth coat him in saliva, going from one ball to the other until they were both practically dripping. His cock was twitching for your attention, but Joel was above begging and groveling. For now.
With devilish eyes, you looked up to him as you suckled one of his balls. He didn’t stop you, just cursed a little under his breath as his chest moved faster. You picked up the suckling from him when he nursed your sensitive, throbbing clit between his teeth and tongue. Now, it was your turn to repay the favor.
Your lips released him with a pop, and you watched as Joel let out a breath he was holding in. His hand loosely fisted your hair in a loose ponytail atop your head, a little moan leaving your mouth as your scalp tingled with his tug.
Your eyes closed as you worked over the other ball, suckling and licking and doing it all just to watch his cock grow angrier and more jealous of the attention. Your own spit was falling down your lips and chin, coating your breasts in a glistening sheen.
Working without your hands, you used your core to balance yourself against Joel. Your knees dug uncomfortably into the floor. He liked watching you work to suck him off.
You had to look to Joel for assistance, his shaft so hardened now against his stomach that you couldn’t reach. You sat up as straight as you could, Joel smirking down at you and watching you struggle for a few brief moments.
“Come ‘ere, pretty girl.” He used the free hand not tangled in your locks to guide his tip down to your open mouth, your lips wrapping loosely around the head.
You made the mistake of releasing him out of habit, whimpering as your knees scrambled on cold tile to get him back to the warmth of your mouth. He opted to help you again, guiding his tip onto your red, wine-stained tongue.
This time, you learned not to release him. Your tongue salivated his tip, swollen and sensitive. You could tell by how tight Joel clutched your hair and nearly pulled you off.
You smirked lazily around him as you took him deeper, your watery eyes on his as you interlocked your fingers by your tailbone.
You were slow at first, little nods back and forth, up and down his shaft. You blinked through any residual tears, slicking him up with your spit and proceeding farther down his shaft. You clenched your eyes closed and choked lightly as you took him to his base, a low groan of praise leaving Joel as his thumb stroked up your cheekbone.
“Fuck me, so fuckin’ good for me, darlin’.” His words were broken by his rasp, but the praise sent you into overdrive.
You bobbed your head at a good pace, Joel guiding you by your hair up and down his shaft, slicked by excess saliva that was dripping onto your tits and your stomach. You had to take a breath, but you learned from earlier. Your head came to rest against his thigh, head foggy as his tip sat plump against your cheek. You looked at the two of you in the mirror, and it was quite a sight.
Joel’s body was planted by his heels, his toned torso and biceps protruding with hints of sweat. You had black-smudged tears on your waterline, and your face was filled with warmth. Your hair was a mess, Joel gently stroking it back from your sweat-glistened forehead as you breathed through your nose. You liked watching you work in the mirror. Watching him get ruined in the mirror. Watching yourself get ruined in the mirror.
You started your rhythm again, this time your eyes locked loosely on the mirror in your peripheral. Joel’s cock made you choke each time you took him deep, but you didn’t let it stop you. He was so close, you had the heady taste of his precum on your tongue. He liked it messy.
“Fuck- can’t,” Joel let out a rugged moan, it felt like it vibrated the tiles under your aching knees. Your wrists were throbbing from keeping your arms back, hands clenched together tight as you followed his rules. “Can’t hold on when you take me so-- so goddamn good.”
You whimper-whined against his cock, hollowing your cheeks as you moved with intent up and down his shaft. You opted just to take what you easily could now, focused on keeping the pace and working towards his orgasm. You thought about Joel fucking your mouth, but he wanted you to feel some sense of control since you had your hands back. Maybe you wanted to lose all control. If it was Joel you were losing it with.
Joel was close, he couldn’t hold back how messy he had gotten. He had a steel-tight grip on your hair, and his breaths were laced with broken moans and grunts of your name. He kept wiping away any tears that slipped past your eyes and onto your cheeks, despite being devastatingly close to an orgasm you knew he was drunk on.
“Yeah, fuck me,” He murmured under his breath, his cock twitching deep in your throat now. “Take me so well... The fuckin’ best, babygirl.” The best.
You watched through blurry, head-dizzy vision as Joel’s ab muscles contorted. “Gonna cum, baby, stay with me.” He panted, eyes locking on yours as you nodded on his shaft and continued your sweet rhythm.
You whimpered as his tip pulsed against your tongue, going down on him as deep as you could and clenching your eyes closed, waiting for Joel’s impending climax. And he kept you there as he painted your throat white.
His cum came out in hot ropes, moaning lowly against his shaft as you focused on tasting him and breathing through your nose. He was salty, little beads landing in the back of your throat as you swallowed around him.
Joel’s moans were glorious, breathy, and aching to say your name. His eyes had fallen closed, his stance still tall and broad. You wanted to touch him, kiss him. You decided to lay your head against his thigh, still breathing around his dick as you watched yourself in satisfaction through his mirror.
“Fuck,” he murmured low, pulling you off of him with a pop. Your jaw lightly throbbed, but god, you felt like you were in the clouds.
“Hands?” Your raw voice whimpered. He gave a silent nod of approval, and with his permission, you released your interlocked hands and lightly toppled back on your ass, leaning against the door to his linen closet.
Joel observed you for a few moments, making sure you were okay before he grabbed a spare washcloth and ran some lukewarm water over it. Your eyes peeked open when you heard his zipper go up on his jeans, seeing he had straightened out his bottom half.
You tried to focus your vision, seeing him squat down beside you and lightly press the cold washcloth to your temple, cheeks, and up your neck. It helped, you were settled, safe, and with Joel.
“Holy fuck.” You finally said once you had come down from your high. Your eyes met Joel’s, seeing both of your mouths were quirked up in lopsided smiles.
“Too much?” He asked, the washcloth now delicately cleaning up the saliva on your breasts.
You slowly shook your head. No, never too much. Just new.
You looked around, feeling an ache in your knees and in your wrists. You rolled your wrists in circles to relieve some pressure on the joints before you pushed your palms up and down your kneecaps gently.
“Hey,” Joel’s words caught your attention, turning to him as he lightly cupped your cheek. “You were fuckin’ perfect, darlin’.” A weak mewl left you, a tired smile on your lips.
“You said the best.”
“Was perfect. Was the best. Did a perfect job.” His praise punched excitement through your veins, regaining your strength to stand back up with Joel’s honorable assistance. You murmur a thanks before you make a grab for Joel’s hoodie. As if he was going to steal it back from you.
Joel excused himself to go clean up the kitchen, leaving an attentive kiss on your cheek before he left you alone.
You took a few minutes to rinse some water around in your mouth and try to brush your fingers through your knotted, matted hair.
“Need to get yourself a brush, Mr. Miller.” You murmur as you pass him in the kitchen, seeing he pulled on a new t-shirt and that he had put some of the leftover pizza in spare Tupperware containers.
“Can’t eat it all by myself, and Sarah won’t be home for a few more days.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. He could so totally finish that pizza if he wanted to. He could do it tonight as soon as you leave.
Reading your mind, he shoved the container into your hands. “Just-- fuckin’ take it, why you gotta make things so damn difficult.”
You smirked and patted the container softly. “My specialty. Irritating old grouchy men.”
He rolled his eyes and shook his head at you, picking up the wine bottle next and figuring out what to do with it. Your eyes softened, watching the gears turn in his head for how he was going to handle this situation.
“Do you care if I take the rest of it home, actually? I know it’s yours, and it’s been yours for a while, but it was really good.” Lame excuse. Joel leaned into it though, nonetheless. You were at Joel’s side now, looking to him with gentle eyes and a tender smile. He teetered on his feet for a moment before he nodded and handed it over.
“Yeah, you’re doin’ me a favor so it doesn’t just keep sittin’ in the fridge.”
You nodded softly and tried to jam the cork back in as well as you could, Joel swiftly taking the bottle from you and popping it back into its home with ease due to his sheer strength.
You turned to the television and huffed, seeing the credits of Pride & Prejudice roll. Dammit.
Joel joined you at your side, crossing his arms and giving the television a once over. “So did they, y’know, end up together?” There was Joel’s pure curiosity again. This time, he didn’t hide it so well.
“Guess you’ll have to watch to find out. Don’t forget to throw that shirt in the washer.” You said with a cocky grin, holding up the wine bottle and pizza leftovers in gratitude before walking to the door. Joel followed you out, and you looked at him curiously.
“Gotta make sure you get home safe.”
Your head rolled to the side, watching as he shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “What?”
“Joel, I’m staying right next door. You could see me go inside from your living room window.”
He just shook his head and looked beyond you to the water.
“t’s dark.”
Your chest fluttered with warmth, a smile on your lips growing past one you could deny. Let him have this one.
“Thanks, Joel. Thanks for the pizza and the wine and… stuff.” Now it was his turn to let you have this one. The stuff. The kiss. The multiple kisses. He didn’t make it a big deal, just rolled with the punches. You appreciated it.
You wanted to know what was next for the two of you. The feeling of your cores grazing one another set a fire in you that only Joel could put out.
You pondered whether or not to kiss him goodnight and find a lame excuse to try and thank him again for the wine bottle when you saw two pairs of headlights coming down the road.
“Shit,” you murmured under your breath, looking to Joel with a pained expression. He looked disappointed.
You didn’t say goodnight, you didn’t kiss him before you left, you just… left. You moved down Joel’s rickety wooden porch steps with haste, sneaking into the lakehouse through the garage door as your heart thrummed at a face pace. You felt like a child getting caught by your parents.
You didn’t know what to do with Joel’s pizza container and the wine. You could figure out an excuse for the pizza later, so you shoved it into the fridge, but definitely not the half-drank bottle of red wine. You double-checked that the cork was in there tight, and of course it was because Joel pushed it back in, but you couldn’t help but check because it was going to be stowed under your bed for safekeeping.
You changed out of Joel’s hoodie and into an oversized band tee, walking out of your bedroom with a book when your parents returned through the door.
“Hey, kiddo. You’re still up? ‘t’s past eleven.”
You try not to roll your eyes, biting down on the inside of your lip as you tightly nodded. “Yeah, I know. I stay up late a lot at school and stuff, working on papers or out with friends. Staying up past eleven isn’t that weird for me.”
You didn’t mean for there to be so much venom in your comment, but you weren’t a baby. Nearly every day at the lakehouse so far this summer has elicited a few don’t call me kid, I’m an adult, I make adult decisions, comments from you.
Your parents looked too tired to care, which somehow stung worse.
“Okay, sweetie, we’ll see you tomorrow morning. Your dad and I are headin’ to bed.”
Now you felt bad. You pursed your lips and nodded, putting your hands behind your back and resting them on your tailbone absentmindedly. This was the same pose Joel had you in tonight. You already wanted to go back there.
“Sorry, goodnight.” You whisper, seeing your dad give you a tired smile before patting your shoulder.
“Hey kiddo-” He paused at the nickname and took a breath. “Sorry.” You playfully smiled and shook your head. Go on.
“Do me a favor, grab the steaks out from the freezer and put them on a plate in the fridge. Wanna have Joel and Sarah over for dinner tomorrow night. Feel like I haven’t seen them all summer.”
Your face went ghastly blank, feeling yourself fall hollow like a collapsing building. If it weren’t for how tired your dad was, he would have seen right through you like a ghost. “You- Oh, you want to have them come by for dinner? I don’t think tomorrow’s gonna work. Sarah’s camping and-”
“Oh, well, Joel can still swing by for dinner. Need to eat up those steaks. Every time I open the freezer, they stare at me. They’re beggin’ me to eat them, it ain’t fair.”
You forced out a laugh, but of course, your father couldn’t tell. Just thought he made one hell of a zinger.
“So-So Joel over for dinner tomorrow night?”
“Yeah, kiddo. And don’t forget to take out the steaks. Love you.” He turned the corner down the hall, and then he was gone.
You sighed and lightly chewed at the skin around your thumbnail. Great. One big happy family dinner. And Joel.
---
here's my masterlist!
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(idk why so many of my tags aren't working. Might make a notifications blog instead where you'd follow it and turn the notifications on and I'll only reblog my work on that account. ugh a problem for another day, okay ily ttyl I'm gonna go watch twilight)
#joel miller#joel miller smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal the last of us#pedro pascal joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller one shot#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#therapist joel#tlou#tlou fic#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#hellishjoel#joel miller x reader#dbf!joel#dbf!joel miller#dad's best friend#neighbor!joel miller#joel tlou
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