#they are soft anyways and i hold them so fucking gentle
Note
pls some joost fluff (cuddling n maybe some making out??) headcanons bitte bitte🙏
🥴 danke danke for request!
Cuddles
Joost Klein x fem!reader
English is not my first language so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors! More posts here.
A/n: I wrote it a bit different, hope you won't mind much!🙏
Warnings: bit suggestive and making out, so be aware!
Wc: 736
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Okay, so Lazy Mornings would probably look like this.
Joost loves to sleep in on any day, but what he loves more is when he wakes up to find you still cuddled up beside him, he wouldn't have it any other way.
He'd pull you even closer, wrapping his arms around you protectively, and nuzzle his face into your hair, content to stay tangled up in bed with you for as long as possible.
"Good morning to you too, Joost." You said with a small smile and felt him tighten his hold on you from behind.
"Morning." He whispered and kissed your neck. "I didn't want to wake you up."
"It's alright. I have to get up anyway." You answered and turned in his hold.
"Not possible, you're staying here, with me." He spoke and as he was about to kiss you, you turned your head to the side and said. "No, no, no, I will give you a kiss after we brush teeth."
---
Post-Eurovision Comfort would be absolutely necessary and nobody can tell me otherwise.
After a particularly tough last few days at Eurovision, Joost would come home exhausted.
You'd meet him at the door with a warm hug, leading him to the couch where you'd lay his head in your lap and gently massage his shoulders and back.
"It's gonna be alright Joost, it will be alright." You would softly whisper to him.
He'd close his eyes, letting out a contented sigh as he relaxes into your touch, grateful for your soothing presence.
"Thank you love."
---
Movie Nights are a must.
You and Joost have a tradition of having cozy movie nights at home. He'd make a big bowl of popcorn, and you'd snuggle up together under a blanket on the couch.
As the movie plays, Joost would absentmindedly run his fingers through your hair, occasionally pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
"I know what you're trying to do Joost. It won't work." You warned him, clearly knowing what he was up to.
"I'm not doing anything love, you're just paranoid." He chuckled and threw himself at you, pinning you down on the couch.
He started kissing you as you put your hands on his shoulders and then to his hair, lightly tugging on it. Joost moaned to your mouth.
He suddenly pulled away and said. "If you're going to tease me like this, then it's not my fault. It's yours."
"No, it was you who started kissing me. It's your fault." You moaned, feeling him kiss your jaw and then neck.
"That sounds fair."
---
Unexpected Cuddles are like:
Whether you're cooking dinner together or just lounging around the house, Joost loves to surprise you with sudden cuddle attacks.
He'd sneak up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, pressing his chest against your back as he peppers your neck with gentle kisses, making you giggle and squirm.
"It tickles!" You gasped and then you started to laugh, trying to pull away, but he didn't budge.
Now, that he was fully pressed against your back, he turned you around, so you were face to face. He bent down and took your thighs and pulled you up at the counter as you wrapped your arms around his neck for support.
"You realize I'm cooking, right?" You asked him, feeling all hot from sudden friction. Looking into his eyes, you see the hunger behind them.
You bit your lips and pulled him closer to yours lips kissing him with passion, but still soft enough.
"Who's the clingy one now." He laughed against your lips, kissing them again.
"Shut up."
"Make me."
---
Rainy Day Cuddles:
When it's pouring rain outside, Joost would suggest building a blanket fort in the living room.
And guess what? You agreed, because it is fucking good idea.
You'd gather up all the blankets and pillows you could find, creating a cozy nest for the two of you to hide away from the storm.
"It's cozy here." You whispered to him as you laid on his chest. He had his arm around you and his other was in your hair, gently playing with it.
"Yeah, it is." He quietly said and kissed the top of your head.
Inside the fort, you'd cuddle up together, listening to the sound of the rain on the roof and he was sharing stories with you until you both fell asleep in each other's arms.
---
Don't copy or translate my work! Also the picture is not mine! Credit goes to owner!
#joost klein x fem!reader#joost klein x you#justice for joost#joostice#joost klein x reader#joost klein#x reader#k0juki's stuff 🩷#x female!reader#europa#europe#eurovision#imagines#fanfic#blurb
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TMayNT Day 13: Best Don
Day 13 of @tmaynt Prompt: Best Don!
Oh my sweet, how I've waited for this day! It should probably come as no surprise to anyone who fallows me or anyone who saw my Day 1 entry that Donnie is my favorite turtle! Hands down, no contest!
But here comes the hard part. Choosing my favorite! Gunna be honest, it's a very hard decision. Each Donnie has a quality to them that I just adore! Intelligence! I don't like to think of myself as that smart, at least not in the way Donnie is! And I love me some soft nerdy types! And when it comes to personality, it gets even harder to pick, because literally ALL of them are just precious.
87 is smart but a bit of a dork! 2003 is...goals. Sweet, kind, has a tiny bit of spice to him, and still has the skills to pay the bills! 2007, while not having much screen time, is a reliable man.
IDW, tbh, I've yet to read the comics in full, but from what I can see, he seems a lot like a mix of both 2003, 2007, and 87 Don. As in, while he's a little more softspoken then the others, he can still hold his own in a fight! And despite having been through some clearly otherworldly shit, he's a skeptic when it comes to magic. But I love the way they wrote him! (And his death scene still makes me cry! And seeing him still deal with pain from that incident is just *Chef's kiss*!)
2012....well...I don't have much to say about him. Frankly he's my least favorite out of the bunch, and all because the writers really wanted to play fanfic writer and they leaned whyyyyy too hard into the nerd stereotype. Resulting in making him borderline creepy to April. (Not that she's perfect either because goddess on a stick I'm not getting into that today.) The one thing I'll give him is that his sarcasm in this one made his very funny to hear in banter, and I apricate that they were trying to do more then just change the skin colors to make the boys stand out from one another. (But guys...really....the gap in the teeth was just not necessary..)
The Bayverse Donnie was one that had to grow on me a little, cause I'm part of the crowed that thought they looked a bit rough. But I agree that that's kinda the point, they're mutants. They more then likely would be a little rough looking irl. But after aa bit, he does start looking pretty cute anyway! And his voice is on par with 2003, in that he just sounds so sweet! I wanna hug him! (PLUS, THE FUCKER IS 6'8"! I'M 5'3"! And I do have a weakness for taller dudes. Bonus if they wear glasses! :3)
Now, for Rise. I was once part of the Cowaboomer crowed that thought that since RISE was so different from the other versions, it was there for ruined. I've since watched it, and the movie, and if anything, I've proven that I no longer think this way! RISE Donnie tho...he had to grow on me. At first I really didn't like him. His personality was such a stark contrast from all the other versions that it was almost like he was a whole new character! And with the art style of RISE being so different, his design was quite a jolt too. (The eyebrows are...a choice.) But after a while, that smug fucking smile had me feeling a type of way. The way he'd make me laugh was starting to become infectious! And the next thing I knew, I fell for this version too! Pretty hard I might say. And while 2003 Donnie is the sweetest bean to ever grace my screen, RISE became the living definition of the meme "I'm a luxury few can afford!"! And I love him!
After that, we had the batman cross over that brought us another Donnie! Once that I'm happy didn't lean too heavy on the other versions. He looked a little like 2012, but was like a gentle mix or 2003 and Bayverse! He also got a lot more lines and personality in that movie! (As well as a broken arm! RIP)
Then Mutant Mayhem showed up, and oh my god if he isn't the same insufferable anime fan I was when I was a teen! He made me laugh, and was still an adorable little dork!
And then we have Fortnite Donnie, who...i gotta be honest, I don't play Fortnite. So I'm not sure if he or the others get much of a personality or story outside of the same story of the turtles that we all know by now. So i can't judge him based on personality. But...I do like his design. Tho I will continue to say Fortnite had NO RIGHT to make him THAT damn fine!
In the end, I love all Donnies! Some more then others, but they all mean something to me! And it was hard to choose! but in the end, I chose the two that had the most influence on me!
#tmnt#my art#fan art#sketch#tmnt 2003#donnie 2003#2003 donnie#2003 tmnt#tmaynt#tmaynt challenge#tmnt donnie#donnie tmnt#tmnt 2k3#2k3 donatello#2k3 donnie#donnie 2k3#tmnt donatello#rise tmnt#tmnt rise#rise donnie#donnie rise#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt#donnie rottmnt#purple will always be my favorite color#thanks to you donnie
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Have some Soft QPR Doodles-
Which has me realizing that I need to draw Sleepy Gibbs more often, as well as Asclepius in general.
Anyways, Jacques and Asclepius belong to @rjmeta sibling beloved!
#toonkind dnd#toonkind#jacques macabre#asclepius ash#spooky grandparents#gibbous moon#gibbs#..... i realize i have no idea what their qpr name is#ah well#they are soft anyways and i hold them so fucking gentle#rj my beloved sibling#i am so sorry for my crimes//j#joey draws
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pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | 1.6k words
summary: boyfriend!toji headcanons, fluff, soft!toji, grumpy x sunshine, he’s a simp but he’ll never admit it !!
rheya's note: grumpy man being soft for the person he really loves? i’m here for it. mamaguro is literal proof that he can and will love !!
bf!toji who is silent with his care for you. he's not one to be open or dramatic about his feelings, but you bet he'll show them in actions. small, mundane things that could only be picked out under critical eyes—like quietly placing an extra mug of coffee next to you as you work, or being the one to walk closest to the street, fingers firmly clasped around your palm. if you point it out he'll just grunt, shaking his head with a quiet "keep walking" all while pretending to ignore your silly little grin.
bf!toji who isn't really the type to be big on words of affirmation, but huge on physical touch. you tell him you did well on a project at school or work and he just hums, giving you a little nod. he doesn't say anything else—doesn't really have to because the soft lingering pat on your head is enough to tell you that he's proud.
bf!toji who is an aggressive yet affectionate lover. if you're doing something and he's not receiving your attention he will come up behind you and put you in a headlock. he thinks it's an appropriate response considering how much he craves your attention and company—why on earth are you focused on something that isn't him anyway? so be prepared to have his heavy bicep playfully curling around your throat or slinging you over his shoulders at random times—it's his way of telling you he misses you. and if anything, he'll do it to hear you whine and attempt to shove him off.
bf!toji who will absolutely take your phone and change your lockscreen to pictures of him. every so often, you'll turn your phone on and see an entirely different picture—sometimes a picture of him at the gym, other times a picture of him blocking out his face—but it's always him.
bf!toji whose own lockscreen is always something that's related to you. he's sneaky with it, always stealing pictures of you when you're not looking. he's got a separate album with them—probably hidden behind a password because it's something only he should be allowed to see. but whether it's a snapshot of his hand intertwined with yours or a blurry image of you fast asleep in his bed, it's always you. because of course you’re the first thing he should be able to see when he turns his phone on.
bf!toji who, as cliché as it sounds, is exactly the type to go feral if someone's made you upset. and he's freakishly observant, noticing even a slight pinch of your nose or wobble in your lips—he's caught them all. whether you're just down or outright sobbing, he's there, standing in front of you with pure anger weighing heavy on his brows. and yet for all his rage he's nothing but gentle as he firmly takes your face in his calloused hands, muttering a strained "what the fuck happened?" as he forces you to make eye contact with him. his own eyes will dart over your features, searching for discomfort or any other emotion as you explain, barely holding back his own emotions because there's no reason on the fucking planet that you should be upset at all.
bf!toji who rarely says the words "i love you" not because he doesn't but because the words themselves don't hold all that much meaning to him. no he'd rather spend his time proving it to you than just saying it for the sake of saying it. but, sometimes if you pretend to be asleep long enough, you'll catch him quietly whisper the words into your hair, almost like he doesn't want anyone to hear it. don't even bother trying to call him out for it—he'll deny deny deny.
bf!toji whose eyes flutter when he lets you trace over his scars. not just the one cutting over his lips but the ones that litter his back and torso—battle remnants that he doesn't remember much of. he's always hated the look of them, indifferent to old memories of a much more chaotic time in his life. but when your gentle fingers graze over the raised skin he'll sigh, oddly quiet but yet so comfortable.
bf!toji who will drop everything if you need him. don't ever hesitate to ask him for things because you're scared of being a burden—he will yell at you (affectionately). you drank too much with your friends and can't get a ride? call him and he'll pick you up even if it's 4 am. you're feeling nervous about walking home from the convenience store even though it's only ten minutes away from home? stay put and he'll come get you so that you can walk back together. shut up about all that "it's an inconvenience for you" bullshit—he'll do it and that's that.
bf!toji who asks if you've eaten today, and when you answer with a sheepish smile he'll click his tongue, crossing his bulky arms over his chest and giving you a pointed glare. then he'll say "get your ass to the kitchen. c'mon, up." while hoisting you to your feet—most of the time he'll just pick you up and plop you on the counter himself.
bf!toji who wordlessly makes you something to eat, whether it's a quick snack put together with leftovers or an actual full meal. then he'll stand in front of you with the plate and demand you eat. even a slight word of protest and he's scowling, already holding up a spoonful while grumbling a low "don't wanna hear it. open up, kid."
bf!toji who hates when you fall asleep on the couch waiting for him to get home. his job doesn't allow for the comfort of a strict schedule, and he's told you this many times. but you're nothing if not stubborn, and he can only sigh heavily as he sees you dozing against the armrest when he pushes the door open late at night. he'll click his tongue quietly, hooking both arms under your back and knees to cradle you against his chest before walking to the bedroom. though some part of him is pleased, knowing that you seem to care about him enough to make sure he's coming home every night.
bf!toji who glares at anyone who even breathes in your direction the wrong way. some guy eyeing you while you're walking on the street? toji looks like he's ready to rip his head off. some "friend" of yours asking too many questions about why you're dating a man like him? well…if looks could kill.
bf!toji who pulls you into his lap when he kisses you, because he likes the way you fit into his space so perfectly. he won't ever admit how it makes him swoon when you giggle against his lips, instead choosing to tighten his grip on your hips and pull you closer to his chest.
bf!toji who enjoys watching you sit on the kitchen counter and swing your legs back and forth—finding it so unbelievably endearing that he ends up just standing in between your legs and burying his face into your neck. his lips will map chaste kisses across your skin, and he'll hide a wry smile as your quiet giggles wash over him.
bf!toji who will notice when you eye something at a store, whether it's a pretty piece of jewelry or a new sweater or whatever—he keeps note. and then weeks later, once you've forgotten all about it, he'll come home and drop a bag into your lap before shoving his hands into his pockets. when you open it and start gushing about how much you wanted it and how pleased you are, he'll huff and turn away, muttering a low "whatever, kid. 's not a big deal."
bf!toji who sees you upset about something, and loops his bicep around your neck and tucks you under his chin. to an outsider it doesn't look like the most comforting form of a hug, but it's toji, and he's secure and he's safe and he's all the comfort you need—a tight squeeze that grounds you in a way that you can't quite describe.
bf!toji who will never admit how interested he is in your gossip. his ideal way to destress after he comes home is to sit on the couch with you in his lap, your arms looped around his waist as you press yourself against his torso and tuck your head under his chin. and even though his eyes are trained on the tv, he has no clue what's going on—he's more focused on the drama you're spilling or whoever you're ranting about. and he makes it known too, occasionally asking "then what happened, baby?" and adding in a few sounds of disbelief. by the end of your rant, he'll be saying something along the lines of "what a fucking bitch," or "honestly he deserved that," and then asks for updates on the situation over the next few days.
bf!toji who silently watches you trace your fingers over the lines on his palms. you're blabbering about something, tucked against his chest as his other arm remains wrapped around you securely, but he's just focused on your hands. it scares him a little bit—the difference between you and him. his palms are calloused, rough with battle and death, while yours are soft, clean of the horrors he's determined to keep away from you. and a small part of him tells him he shouldn't taint you with all his faults, that you deserve someone more capable of loving than he is. but then he feels you brush your lips over his scarred fingers and he sucks in a breath, tightening his grip imperceptibly. even as he hides a half smile against your brow, he knows he isn't going anywhere.
#toji x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#toji fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fluff#toji zenin x reader#zenin toji x reader#toji fushiguro#toji x you#toji x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#toji angst#toji zenin x you#jjk fluff#jjk#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#toji headcanons#toji zenin#toji drabbles#jjk drabbles#jjk headcanons#toji hcs
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best kept secret
pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
words: 6.7k
summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!
a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3
Joel’s bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dad’s house across the street.
It’s gorgeous — breathtaking, even — maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually seen the crest of morning. You’re far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it, never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.
You don’t mind the early wakeup call, though, not when it’s this: Joel’s head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.
He’s humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.
“C’mon baby,” he purrs. “Just gimme one before you go.”
They’re the first words he’s said all morning, the first thought that’s necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core.
Even so, despite how badly you want to — because you always want Joel’s mouth on you — you’re not sure you can.
Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.
Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Miller’s house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterday’s clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.
But with another experimental flick of Joel’s tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.
Just one, you tell yourself, and then you’ll head out.
“Fuck, okay — yeah,” you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.
With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again — with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another.
He’s so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like they’re made of paper. It’s a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.
You’re still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.
Because you’re insatiable when it comes to Joel.
For the past few weeks, since the first time you’d found yourself in his bed, you’ve craved him. Regardless of how sated he’s left you each and every time, you’ve needed more.
It’s dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dad’s best-friend. But you’re finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other man’s cock ever has.
That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit — It’s overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.
He’s bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. It’s like he doesn’t want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as it’ll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.
But it’s going to end soon; it’s inevitable with the way he’s laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and you’re powerless to stave it off any longer.
“Joel,” you warn, his name a high-pitched whine.
“Shh, I know babygirl; it’s okay.”
Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”
The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.
Joel talks you through it: that’s it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.
The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you can’t help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.
“Okay?” he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.
“Yeah,” you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. “More than okay.”
He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.
“Good,” he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him — a little sweet, a little bitter — and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. “Did so good, angel.”
You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.
“I don’t want to leave,” you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.
“I don’t want you to either, darlin’. But you can come back tonight, yeah?”
Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But it’ll have to do.
“Tonight,” you repeat. Solidify it.
You slink home just as the street lights dim.
The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.
You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then you’re tiptoeing past your father’s room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.
You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.
The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dad’s alarm on the other side of the wall.
By the time you’ve dressed and made your way downstairs, he’s already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you.
Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug — your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.
God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.
“Hey.”
“Hey, kiddo,” he yawns. Turns to face you. “You were up early. Heard the shower going.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.
“Something on your mind?”
Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. There’s no way he knows — you’ve been far too careful. Still, you’re on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.
“Uh, n-no,” you stutter. “Just work stuff, I guess.”
He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, “Just gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, it’s your first job out of school. They don’t expect you to know it all right away.”
It’s good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if you’re absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isn’t preoccupied.
You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.
The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-
-there’s a knock at the door.
Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?
And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.
“Oh, buddy — hey! Come on in,” your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. “Wasn’t expecting you.”
You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.
Joel is dressed — blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.
The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.
He’s a different Joel here, now — your father’s friend, your neighbor — not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length.
No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasn’t tasted his friend’s daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.
You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay.
Easier said than done. It’s as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.
His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.
“Yeah, I uh — I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopin’ you might have some to spare?”
He can’t be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldn’t get some on the road?
“I’m afraid she took the last of it,” your dad’s eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joel’s gaze when his follow.
“Ahh,” he says. “‘ts okay. I’ll grab some on my way in.”
His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like there’s something else. Another reason he came here.
And then you spot it — your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joel’s back pocket.
You must’ve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as he’d kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.
Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink.
Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.
Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, “I gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.”
Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. You’re pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale.
“You know Deb, right, honey?” he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dad’s coworkers.
There’s Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese you’ve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadn’t shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week.
This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Lou’s. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.
But Deb? You don’t recall a Deb. Still, you’re pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context.
You shake your head, no.
“Well, I guess you haven’t seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.”
“When I was ten?” you retort.
“Yeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?”
You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. “Anyway, Deb – she’s around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and she’s a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.”
“Is that so?” Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesn’t say anything.
“You’ll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, when’s the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since – what was her name — Jean? And if things were going well with her, I’d hope you’d tell your old friend.” The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer.
“No, I ain’t seeing Jean,” Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.
“Well, you gotta get back out there!”
Joel’s gaze rolls to the ceiling. “I don’t know – I’m just not real interested in datin’ right now.”
You exhale, then — a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed — unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch.
I’ve known this woman for years Joel, I’m telling you, the two of you’d be the perfect match; she’s a looker too, real pretty.
Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.
Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.
“No, I know,” Joel grumbles. “I trust your judgment ‘n all, ‘ts just-”
“Will you just give her a chance?”
“Jesus; fine.”
The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.
Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.
He’s quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that it’s beginning to bleed through.
“Atta boy,” he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket.
“Promise you’ll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know you’re not gonna make me look bad here.”
Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already. But he’s refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll call her tonight,” he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips.
He’s actually agreeing to this?
You need to get out of here before you say something rash.
The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder.
Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.
The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late.
The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your boss’s door.
It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dad’s words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.
The thing is — you can’t blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.
Maybe he’d be happier with Deb.
They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.
Because that’s what this is, you and Joel — it’s wrong. Not like you weren’t already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman you’ve never met to rub it in.
The day passes infuriatingly slow.
The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time you’re due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.
“Sorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than I’d hoped,” you lie. But you can tell she doesn’t buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.
“I need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.”
“Of course,” you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. “I’ll get them done and on your desk by Friday.”
“Thanks.” Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.
You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as she’s out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joel’s number is already dialed on your phone.
He picks up after two rings.
“Darlin’ — are you okay?”
It’s admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when you’ve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.
But this can’t wait. It’s been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you don’t talk to him about it, you’re going to end up unemployed. You don’t bother to ask if he’s still on the job site, around other people. “You’re going on this date.” It’s not a question. More of an accusation.
“Baby,” he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest.
“Why didn’t you say no?”
“How could I?” he groans. “There’s your dad, askin’ me if I’m seein’ someone, sayin’ he’s already told this lady about me – what am I supposed to say?”
“I don’t know.” Your voice comes out a whine. “Make something up. Tell him you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”
He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. “Yeah, baby. Think he’d believe that one, f’sure.”
“Fuck,” you huff. “I just— I don’t-“
You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you aren’t dating. You don’t have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you don’t want that, no. You just want him to choose you.
“I don’t wanna go, darlin’. I really don’t. But if I do this, I think it’ll get him off my back for a while. He won’t have a reason to suspect that I’m foolin’ around with his daughter.”
Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.
It’s not exactly a lie. You haven’t put a label on this thing, whatever it is. It’s been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation — as if you haven’t been driven by overwhelming desire — makes your stomach churn.
Joel doesn’t seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. “It’s for the best,” he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor.
“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. “For the best.”
He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. You’re not sure that you believe him.
The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.
You dodge Joel’s calls for the remainder of the week.
There’s no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.
Even so, it doesn’t stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.
He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You can’t. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. You’ll break; you know you will.
So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.
But you still ache for him — a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin.
It’s a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.
On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. He’s grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.
“Joel and Deb’s date is tomorrow,” he says. “Think they’ll really hit it off, don’t you?”
You’re dumbfounded for a long moment — can’t believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your father’s fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.
“Oh! I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember Deb.” You can’t help your condescending tone. Your dad doesn’t seem to catch it anyway.
“Well,” he says, “I think they’ll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately — maybe if he has a lady, he’ll get out more!”
“You sound real excited,” you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.
“It is exciting. I’ve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place they’re going to — the Tavern — it’s got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-“
“Dad,” you stop him. You think you’ll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. “Sorry, I just — I’m really tired, all of a sudden. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”
It’s not a complete lie. You’re emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.
Your dad doesn’t question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.
Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern.
Not that you’re planning to go there anytime soon — you’re just curious. That’s all.
Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait.
You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.
This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst you’ve had in a while.
You jot the address down anyway.
Downtown Austin is buzzing with life.
Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons – it almost distracts you from the task at hand.
At just past seven, you’d told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. He’d been a bit taken aback, seeing as you’re not very social these days, but he’d seemed happy. Relieved.
That’s not what you’re doing, of course.
No – in reality, you’re turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. It’s packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joel’s truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.
It’s idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew he’d be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped he’d stand Deb up.
You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do — storm inside and demand that he leave with you?
You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.
From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurant’s entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.
Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face — the same one you’ve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.
And you’re here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.
Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time they’ll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, you’re convinced that they’re going to close the place out.
But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb.
She’s talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. It’s undeniable that she’s stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.
She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.
You wonder if he’ll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If they’ll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once he’s helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.
But he doesn’t lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers.
He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that he’ll call — and he will, first thing tomorrow. He’s probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday.
Maybe he knows, after just one date, that she’s his soulmate. He’ll buy the ring in a couple weeks. They’ll be engaged in a month’s time, and he’ll say he just couldn’t wait any longer.
She’s the one thing I’ve been missing.
You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.
And then — he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.
He’s staring directly through the windshield. At you.
Fuck.
He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.
With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side.
He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down.
The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.
“You wanna fuckin’ explain what you’re doin’ here?” he snaps. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.
You know you’re in the wrong. You shouldn’t have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?
When your gaze finally meets his, he looks — distraught — jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.
“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I just wanted to see how you were with her.” And it’s the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but it’s the truth nonetheless.
“Doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”
“So what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, I’m sorry,” you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, “the guy I was fooling around with.”
This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.
“It wasn’t like that,” he grits
“No? Isn’t that all this was to you: fooling around?”
There’s a beat. Joel sighs.
“No — fuck, no. Of course not.”
His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. “I tried callin’ you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.
“I know,” you admit.
He nods. Another beat.
“Did you kiss her?” you ask.
“No.” He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now.
Your mouth goes dry.
“No?”
“No,” he repeats. “I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I didn’t want to.”
“You don’t want her?”
“No,” he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. “I don’t want her.”
“Why not?”
He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face — warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.
“I don’t want her,” he says, voice an octave lower, “because I want you. I thought you knew that?”
The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.
“You want me?” you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. “Prove it.”
Joel doesn’t hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.
It’s sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He’s groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can’t get close enough, as if he’ll only be satisfied once he’s swallowed you whole. You’re pretty sure you want him to.
Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat.
And then he’s back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw.
Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. You’ve missed this, god, you’ve missed this — but it’s still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt — you’re not picky. Just need him in whatever way he’ll provide.
“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep.
He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks through labored breaths.
“Need you — please.”
He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs.
Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.
“You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.
Your breath catches.
You know what he’s really asking: are you going to let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?
But you don’t care. In fact, you’re way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take what’s his.
You nod frantically. “Yes,” you pant. “Please.”
Joel nods too, as if he’s accepting his fate. He’s going to fuck his friend’s daughter in the passenger seat of her car. There’s no way around it — not when you’re begging for it. He’s going to give you what you need.
“Okay,” he soothes, “I got you baby.”
He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.
He doesn’t bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then you’re pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.
You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. “Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Take it; it’s yours.”
His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist.
You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. He’s so thick, stretching you like it’s the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.
“Fuck,” Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.
“Gotta move baby — please move.”
He’s so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.
Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You can’t suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.
Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. He’s relentlessly hitting that spot — the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life.
It’s approaching too quickly; he’s going to make you come.
One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry it’ll pop.
Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.
“Oh f— ahh, oh my—“
“That’s it,” he coos, “you got it, babygirl.”
His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. You’re wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.
His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.
“Cmon, baby,” you goad, “please fill me up.”
He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You don’t move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like he’s afraid to let you go.
You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.
You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You don’t have the energy to care.
Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joel’s chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.
“Joel,” you say.
He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.
“Yeah?” He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.
“Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“About wanting me.” In truth, you’re not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. You’re done sharing him.
“Oh, baby,” he drawls. “Of course I do. You’re all I want. Do you want me?”
And it’s a stupid question. He has to know that. You’re nodding before he can even finish it. “Yes,” you breathe. “I want you, Joel”
“Then it’s settled. It’s me and you. No more…interlopers.”
You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driver’s seat with achy legs.
You’ve never felt more content than you do in this moment.
Still, you’ll have to hide — won’t be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad — and neither will Joel.
You don’t care much, not as long as he’s yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.
“Joel,” you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.
“Yeah, darlin’?”
“Are you sure you don’t mind…being a secret? Don’t mind keeping me a secret?”
He looks at you like you have two heads.
He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.
Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure you’re listening.
“I want you — doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t know. Long as you’re mine.”
Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.
“I’m yours?”
He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning.
It all feels somehow sweeter, now.
“Yeah, angel. You’re mine. My girl.”
end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.
Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)
tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673
#joel x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#dbf!joel#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fanfiction#tlou fic#the last of us fanfiction
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Tracing his name over your clit | Geto x Reader
contains: cunnilingus, suguru adoring you, slight overstimulation
♡
“Fuccckkk Sugu—” You groan, your pretty little head resting against the plush pillow while your boyfriend’s at work going down on you. Both of his large hands squeeze the flesh of your thighs in between his fingers, kneading them every second, you could already feel the sore bruises starting. “It’s late, are you sure you want to get me off right now?”
He picks his head up for a second, the shine from your arousal sticking to his lips.
“Just lay there and look pretty for me sweet girl, I just want to make you feel good, yeah?”
Without another word, his face disappears between your thighs again quickly going back to his fun. He knew this wouldn’t take long anyway, his mouth alone is enough to make you squirt all over his beautiful face. But he always made sure to take his time with you, just for his sweet girls pleasure.
You let out a sigh of pleasure while your fingers rake through his soft hair. Between him going back and forth between soft kisses peppering your clit, and then moving on to full on making out with your pussy, you would cum any moment with the way he performs his magic. Especially when you listen to the filthy wet sounds of his lips doing their job.
He does this almost every night, he must think it makes you relax more for a good nights rest. More often than not, it lead to his cock pounding desperately into you, but sometimes, like tonight, he just enjoyed mouth fucking your cunt until you fall asleep. You swore he did this more for his pleasure than your own, but in the end, you both win, so who can complain? He gets to eat you out, and you get an orgasm out of it.
Suguru pops his head up for a minute, replacing his mouth on your clit with this middle finger. His body leans upwards to you press a deep kiss to your lips, groaning into your mouth.
“Oh sweet girl, my darling love, I could make out with this pussy for the rest of my life and never get tired of it. It’s fucking mine.”
And with that, Suguru’s mouth returns to your pussy, his tongue lapping up every bit of your arousal. You feel him smirk against you, and then his tongue work unfamiliar motions over your clit… as if he was spelling out a word.
Your eyebrows knit together in ecstasy, realizing what he spelled out. His name.
Suguru.
With the realization of him marking you, plus the new motions of his tongue… you come undone just like that, cumming in his mouth.
Suguru licks and sucks gently, helping you all the way through your orgasm until the pleasure becomes overstimulation, your thighs shaking and Suguru having to hold them still to continue going down on you.
“N- no Sugu— too tired now—”
Suguru stops what he’s doing and his eyes soften at how beautiful you look.
“You sure pretty? Hm? I can fuck that pretty face of yours to sleep again.”
“N- no— I can’t handle this tonight… sleepy..” You moan out, squeezing your thighs together to get Suguru to stop his actions.
Suguru offers a sweet smile, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling. He pulls himself up next to you and presses a gentle kiss to your temple.
“Another time, then.”
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Taking Turns [Ellie W. + Abby A.]
||Men, minors, and ageless DNI
CW: Overstim, dom!Ellabs, sub!reader, fingering(r!receiving), cunnilingus(r!receiving) edging, strap usage(r!receiving), dacryphillia(?), reader has hair, POC friendly cus duh, AFAB reader,strap on referred to as a cock, porn with no plot, no y/n usage
Word Count: 1,032 Masterlist. Divider Creds
A/N: I haven't written in so long so please give me some grace if this is ass
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷“Watch her fuck you, baby…there you go ” Ellie coos, a gentle hand playing with your hair, her soft lips occasionally pressing little kisses to the top of your head as you rest against her. She’s relaxed, slouched up against the headboard as she holds you to her stomach, free hand gently tugging at your hardened nipple, pinching the sensitive bud between her fingers.
Your mind is completely blank by now, jaw slack, tears rolling down your cheeks as Abby’s thick fingers pump mercilessly in and out of you. Her face is buried snug between your legs, her sharp blue eyes staring up at you, watching the way your face contorts in pleasure as she laps at your overly sensitive clit.
The contrast is overwhelming.
Ellie mumbling sweet praises in your ear that you can barely process as she holds you, her grip firm yet gentle as she practically forces you to watch as the freckled blonde ravages you with her mouth and fingers. You can’t quite remember how many minutes it’s been since this started, but it feels like it's been hours, the two women having switched places three- no four times by now.
“Look at you, already fuckin’ crying and we haven’t even started with you yet” Ellie remarks, her long fingers untangling from your hair to wipe at your tear-stained cheeks. It’s not like you can help it at this point. Ever since the last switch, Abby has been deliberate in the way she handles your body, getting you right up to the edge of your orgasm over and over again before pulling away, leaving you breathless and desperate, clenching around the phantom of her fingers. Like right now. Abby feels you begin to pulse around her digits, your whimpers and cries of pleasure becoming louder by the second, and just like that her pace slows to a stop.
"A-Abs, please-" You start as Abby pulls away from your cunt completely, a string of her saliva and your juices breaking between her lips and your glistening folds as she sits up.
"Don't you want this baby?" Abby asks, the "this" in question being the ribbed, purple silicone strap resting on her hips. As she speaks, she positions her body between your legs, wrapping her large hand around the toy and gently tapping it against your swollen clit, making you twitch. You feel like you could cum from that alone. You nod your head vigorously in response to Abby's question, and the blonde just fucking laughs.
"Use your words, pretty girl." she says, her voice firm. While Abby and Ellie don't often agree on a lot of things, one thing they can agree on is the fact that your voice sounds like heaven. Especially when you're like this. It feels good to know that, but at the same time, it's difficult not to become irritated when they're constantly expecting you to speak to them clearly through ragged breaths and fucked out whines.
You can't help but let out an impatient, drawn-out groan at Abby's demand but you try your best anyways, begging for her to "just fuck you already" through labored breathing. Normally that wouldn't work, Abby would prefer to hear you ask nicely but she can practically feel your desperation, and she's just as needy so she lets it slide this once. Your breath catches in your throat when Abby's movements transition from gently rubbing the mushroom-like tip of her cock against your drooling pussy to pushing it inside. Ellie's voice overlaps over the high-pitched whine that escapes your throat at the feeling.
"Shh, shh, shh, it's okay. You can take it" Ellie murmurs, her hands still gently groping and tugging at your tits, her green eyes staring intently at the way Abby is sliding into you.
Abby pushes the silicone deep, all the way to its base before letting out a low groan as if she could actually feel your warm walls surrounding it. Her thrusts are gentle at first, but it doesn't last long before the sound of skin on skin begins filling the room, along with your breathless cries. The blonde is ruthless, but she takes her time, pulling her cock almost all the way out of you before slamming it back in at full force. Her strong hands grip onto your thighs so hard that her fingernails dig into your skin, soft grunts and moans forcing their way out of her each time the base of the strap bumps against her throbbing bundle of nerves.
"A-Abby I'm gonna- fuck" Your legs are shaking uncontrollably, the mere thought of her stopping right now almost makes you let out a sob, but she doesn't. Abby is way too focused on how fucking good you look and sound right now to even think about teasing you anymore, not to mention her own inner thighs becoming moist with her wetness with each thrust, close to cumming herself.
"I know, I know baby- Jesus Christ" Abby mutters between gritted teeth, her eyebrows knitted together as her thrusts become more erratic. "Cum for me, c'mon."
If you didn't know any better, you would think the muscular blonde had some kind of remote control to your body because you cum almost immediately after she says it, your body convulsing as your orgasm rips through you, the feeling almost too much after being denied it so many times. Abby reaches her climax quickly after, her hips involuntarily snapping forward a few more times as her body twitches from the pleasure before she leans over you to catch her breath.
When she comes down from her high, Abby pushes off of you, the silicone sliding out slowly and sending a shiver through your body. Your legs go limp against the bed when she moves, a thin layer of sweat covering your body, eyes threatening to close. Before you get the chance though, you feel a hand tapping against your cheek. It's Ellie. Looking down at you with a shit-eating grin on her face.
"We didn't say you were finished, doll" she says, gently moving you off of her so that she can stand, switching places with Abby. Again.
"I still haven't had my turn, yet"
A/N pt. 2: Thanks for reading! I barely proofread this so I'm sorry if it reads a little odd. Constructive feedback is appreciated!
#abby anderson x reader#wlw#abby anderson#ellie williams#lesbian#tlou2#abby anderson smut#ellie wiliams x reader#ellabs#ellabs x reader#☆kennie's works
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Welcome Home... Soldat? | Part III
That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.
Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra
Words: 5.2k++ (sorry y'all)
Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, fluffy stuff, tiny sprinkle of angst, soldat is heartbreakingly adorable until the very end, bucky not being very communicative, self-loathing, confusion, conflicted feelings between guilt and need, two idiots in love who are lost in a miscommunication, excessive use of the word 'fuck', and... what else? I'm not sure either lol.
P/S: This has been truly a journey. Thank you so much for the support y'all have been giving me. I really do appreciate all the comments and dms about my work regardless which one of them. Just wanna remind you that I won't be here without you; that's the degree of importance that you possess. Anyway, enjoy your reading.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
It's only been eight in the morning and the soldat had Y/N trapped between his arms as she focused on sifting the flour for the pancake batter. There were barely any space between them; not when he made sure that her soft plushy butt rests right against his crotch, while his fingers subtly move along her hips.
Those gentle trailings didn't last too long for comfort as he slipped his left hand under her sweatshirt. The soldat let his instinct took control as the metal of his touch draws invisible circles all across her bare stomach, while his lips peppered endless amount of butterfly kisses on the marks from last night; each one was now hidden under layers of color correcter and concealer.
"Wow." A raw sound of astonisment naturally slipped from Sam's lips as he found himself frozen in his spot at the corridor leading to the entrance of the kitchen.
Look at them. Acting like newlyweds on their honeymoon.
For a moment he forgot that the huge cuddly hunk in front of him was the winter soldier and not his fellow comrade.
But then again, it might as well made sense that it was not the Bucky he knew, because that man would've been a puddle of mess if he got the chance to touch Y/N like this.
Sam still remember that night when they had a Harry Potter movie marathon and Y/N ended up falling asleep on Bucky's shoulder. Even in the room that was scarce from light, Sam could clearly see the redness on Bucky's cheeks and ears.
It was an understatement to say that Sam had the best time of his life teasing the shit out of Bucky that night, knowing he can't do anything about it without waking Y/N from her comfy slumber.
"Soldat, please. I need to move around, you know?" Y/N's amused giggle pulled the soldat from his dreamy trance.
He shakes his head in the crook of her neck, snuggling deeper as he took a deep breath of her sweet scent, "No, you don't. You just need to stay here." The soldat huffed as he pouted and tighten his hold on her.
Y/N chuckled at his child-like antics, "You do know that you're not gonna get any breakfast any time soon if you keep doing this, right?"
Sometimes, she couldn't help but wondered if this is how it would feel like to have Bucky doting on her.
"Родная (darling), I'll gladly have you for breakfast. I'm sure I'd have a feast on that sweet little pussy of yours." He whispered seductively into her ears, as he sensed Sam's presence approaching the kitchen.
Y/N briefly fluttered her eyes shut as he purred in her ears, before slightly peel herself off from him, "Soldat." Her voice was stern and her eyes narrowed into a frown.
The soldat gaze down at her with a hazy grin on his lips, "Родная (darling)."
Unknowingly, the one-sided glaring battle began when Y/N refused to break their intense eye contact; each opponent uses a very contrasting approach, where one has a deep frown and a pair of blazing eyes while the other has the softest, droopy stare and literal hearts in his steel blues.
"Move." Y/N instructed as if it was a warning.
The brunnette let out a defeated laugh as he loosen his hold on her, "Okay, okay. Anything for you, sweet one."
"Thank you." She sighed. "Finally" she thought. She was worried that they gonna have breakfast for lunch if he refuses to let her go.
On the other hand, the soldat was unable to sit still on his own, so he continue to follow her around, like a hungry cat rubbing their forehead up their human's leg, mewling for attention.
"Morning, y/n and... her shadow." Sam finally make himself known as he greeted while naturally went to pour himself a cup of coffee.
"Good morning, Sam." she greeted back while the soldat swiftly put himself in between them like a barrier. He shot a menancing glare at Sam as the man was standing 'too close to Y/N' for the soldat's comfort.
Obviously offended, "Dude, calm down. I was just greeting her good morning." His voice raised as he defended himself for his rights, "Tell him y/n" he continued to tattle tail.
In which Y/N responded by patting the back of the soldat's shoulder as a reassurance before asking him to move away.
Let's just say that he begrudgingly agreed to just because it was Y/N's request.
"Unbeliveable." Sam rolled his eyes, "This your friend?" He asked as Steve entered the scene, greeting everyone a good morning before he quirked, "What?"
"Look at him." Sam accusingly pointed as the soldat, "He's hogging y/n." He continued to explain while purposely reach his hand to touch her. The soldat wordlessly pulled her away before he could reach any further, "See?" Sam pointed again.
Steve didn't defend anyone this time as he only laughed it off before finding his seat. His eyes sparkled with delight to the amount of pancake made by Y/N and the multiple choice of topping and sides; from the sickening sweet stuff to the oddly savoury ones.
He glanced over at his best friend, who was unsubtly trying to hog Y/N away from Sam and his baby blues soften as he thought maybe Shuri was right. Maybe Bucky was always present somewhere in this soldat's persona.
It was such a typical Bucky behaviour to be possessive as the soldat was being. Steve noticed that Bucky would always get a bit agitated when someone touch his girl, even if he doesn't actively show it as much. In the 40's he might've been able to hide it behind his charming smile and witty jokes, but nowdays anyone can see it on his ever-present frown and unintelligible grunts.
That applies for both Bucky and the soldat.
Y/N rolled her eyes at Sam as she pulled the soldat by the hand, "Ignore him, soldat. Now, come have breakfast with me." She sat him on one of the stool by the kitchen isle as she prepared his plate.
Perplexed by the lack response, Sam admitted his defeat for once and joined the isle to have his bite of the morning.
As soon as she settled on her own seat next to him, the soldat took her hand into his, briefly kissing her the back of it. "Thank you, darling." He whispered before placing their locked hands on his lap as they ate, casually rubbing his thumb on her for comfort.
If you thought Y/N was the only one who was blushing at the domestic show of affection, well you'd think again when you see the shade of red on the tip of his ears or the way Sam purposely looked away.
The morning went by with mostly three of them having a pleasant conversation and the soldat silently distract himself by playing with her hand, apparently enthralled by the size difference and how fragile looking hers was.
Meanwhile, the rest of the team came by the kitchen on their own time since some of them prefer to sleep off the pain from the previous mission.
Half an hour later, she felt as if she was caught in a dejavu when she found herself in the same position as before. She laughed softly as she washed dishes, while the soldat stuck himself to her like a oversize koala to a tiny tree.
"I smell pancakes." Tony spoke as he made a bee line towards the kitchen, looking like he just survived a bio hazard in the lab.
"I made extra. Help yourself." Y/N announced, not even trying to look back at them, especially when the soldat had her trapped in his tight embrace.
Tony peeked to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of Y/N, "Did you see her? I didn't even know she was here until she spoke." He asked, though he sounded more like he was teasing her.
Before Tony could reach out for his plate, Shuri stormed to the kitchen, catching everyone's attention, "Pancakes can wait, Tony." She stopped him which only cause him to whine dramatically.
It felt as if Y/N's heart completely dropped out of her body when Shuri nodded knowingly, "It's time."
There was a quick briefing of the process with everyone involved while they prep the soldat in the other side of the glassed section of the lab. Y/N tried to focus on watching the simple simulation video that was prepared by Tony.
And she heard every single words of Shuri's but all she could think was if the soldat knew what they were doing. If he felt like he was being thrown, being disposed of like some kind of object.
By the time they the explanation ended, Y/N didn't think twice as she marched towards the soldat. The team didn't questioned her motive as they can see the determination in her eyes.
She stopped on her tracks, right at the entrance when a thought ran across her mind.
Of course, she wanted Bucky back but why does this feel so wrong?
"How are you feeling, soldat?" She prompted as she walked over to him, passing the lab employee who scurried away leaving the couple to have some privacy.
The soldat brightened in her presence as he reached out to her with grabby hands, triggering a soft giggle from Y/N. She let her hands gravitate towards his, intertwining her fingers in his hold as he replied, "Much better now." He sighed in contentment the moment he felt her skin against his own.
There was a comforting silence in the room, but Y/N's mind was the complete opposite. There was only chaos of questions that felt so sinful and immoral to utter out loud.
The soldat grip tightens with tenderness, as if he could hear the loud havoc in her head. Moments later, he decided to break the silence with an honest confession.
"I know that I'm not welcomed here." He glanced at the other side of the glass, watching the team pacing around. "I know that you're trying to get rid of me." His ocean blues changed its tides to gaze up at her; the smile on his lips was soft and pure.
"You know, I have been many things in this life..." the soldat looked down where his hands were entangled with hers, "...a killer, a weapon, a monster, you name it." there was a hint of grudge in his voice but mostly it was woven with regret.
"But, worst of all, I have been a thief." It felt as if he has been holding his breath as he avowed.
"I have stolen decades worth of his life, robbed him of his freedom for so many years, every single happiness and hope he could ever experienced had been stripped away right before his eyes," the soldat chuckled ironically before looking up to meet her teary eyes, "...yet I'm still greedy for more days with you."
Y/N found herself unable to speak, afraid that her words would do nothing to coax him; or maybe she just couldn't trust that her voice won't crack in the middle of her sentence especially when she was damn sure that her heart was already cracking for him.
The soldat's eyes softens when he reached his hand to her face, "I never knew that I was capable to feel these futile emotions such as joy and love, until I felt it when he looks at you." Y/N didn't even notice she was crying until he wiped them away with the gentle caresses of his thumb.
"Everything I felt towards you were his to begin with." He confessed as he felt the guilt of stealing yet another precious thing from him again, "That's why, I don't deserve this." The said as he recalled every moment he got to spend with her, "I don't deserve you."
The soldat knows that very well, but that didn't stop the natural curiosity that resides from within him, "And I can't help but to wonder..." he hesitated as he tried to construct the most raw and truthful question to sum up whatever this emotion he was currently feeling.
"Will you remember me?" His voice was small and quiet, almost afraid of the answer that might come his way.
More tears were spilling out as she unhesitantly replied, "How could I not?" Her hands raised to his face, cupping his scruffy cheeks in her palms.
The soldat's eyes sightly wobbled when he asked again, "Will you miss me?" At that time, he didn't know that the feeling he felt was called 'heartache', yet he was handling it like he had been experiencing it all his life.
Y/N leaned as she pressed the most tender kiss on his forehead, "More than you know." Her answer made the soldat smile as he purred in her hold.
He peeled one away from his face and pressed a kiss of his own on the delicate palm of her hand. The same ones that had showed him nothing but so much love and kindness.
When Shuri came into the scene, they know it was time to say goodbye. But, both refused to say anything remotely close to it. So, they wordlessly walked out towards the cylinder shaped glass pod, located right in the middle of the lab.
Until the very end, Y/N stood by his side as he lay on the tight space of the pod. And just as the door was about the close, the soldat smiled lovingly at his precious person, as he called for her nickname one last time.
"So long, Родная (darling)."
Three weeks later. At Avenger's private gym.
Steve re-adjusted his stance as he took cautious step backwards, "Why are you avoiding her?" He asked straightforwardly.
Bucky huffed a heavy breath as he lunged forward for a strike, "What are you talking about?" He missed when Steve easily swerved away and countered back, "Don't play dumb, Buck. I'm not in a mood for that."
The brunette blocked his punch with his left forearm but Steve uses that as an opportunity to grab him and pushed him on the floor. Bucky groaned as he landed flat on his chest, left hand on his back.
"Well, I'm not in a mood to talk about it either." He growled as he swing his leg backwards, toppling Steve on his back and pushed his metal arm against his neck, choking him out of his breath, "So, drop it." He warned.
Steve tapped the floor as a sign of defeat and Bucky released his hold while retreat his arm away. Both of them was out of breath but for entirely different reason; Steve was literally choked, so that's fair, but Bucky was breathing heavily as soon as Y/N stepped into the gym.
He stood there with an intense frown on his face, glaring at the woman of his dreams. Literal dreams, or memories of the soldat that was left behind for Bucky after what happened with the winter soldier situation.
Thankfully the method worked, Shuri and Tony managed to bring Bucky back but just like before, he don't have any clear recollection what happened.
While Y/N made the team swore to never speak to Bucky about what he did when he relapsed, while Bucky himself also hides the fact that, much like his previous experience where the memories comes in a form of unsightly nightmares, his memories of those few days were also coming back in a form of dreams.
Though they were never linear. There was no way of knowing the actual flow of his memories.
It came more like snippets of certain moments, sometimes repetitive, sometimes glitchy but they were mostly such good dreams, beautiful even, however they didn't last very long.
At least, not according to Bucky.
Y/N stopped on her tracks as she saw Bucky, who blatantly throwing daggers at her through his eyes. She didn't know why but she didn't want to think of the worst, so she went towards him in hopes of proving her own mind that the negative instincts that she had was wrong.
But the moment she got close, "Hi Buck--" Bucky walked passed her as if she wasn't there in the first place. And she had to admit that, that shit was painful to go through.
And he had been acting like this for two weeks now. Avoiding her like a fucking plague. And she doesn't know why.
He was acting normal during the first week of his awakening, or maybe a little bit more reserved that he usually would be.
She doesn't know how else to explain it but he seemed to act really shy whenever Y/N accidently touched him.
Did someone told him about what happened? Is that why he's mad? She doesn't get it, and she wants to know why.
So before Bucky managed to walk further pass her, Y/N turned on her heels and tugged him by his right arm to stop him. Little did she knew, that might just be the one thing she shouldn't do.
It was like a pre-programmed reaction, when Bucky's body move on his own, as he harshly ripped himself from her grasps, almost dropping her to the ground.
Steve was second away from reaching out to catch her but luckily she found her balance back on her own.
Bucky leered down at her as he spoke, "Don't touch me." His voice came out much more venomous than he intended, making Y/N flinched to his command.
But if that what he needs to do to chase her away from him then so be it, "Just stay the fuck away from me." Bucky spat a cold warning before marching his way out.
Not only leaving Y/N in utter confusion, but with her heart torn to bled dry.
"No... soldat." She whimpered in his ears as his finger drew slow circles on her clit, his mouth latched on her shoulder.
Salty tears started to blur her vision when she sniffled them back.
"Look at you. Look how well you're taking me. My darling is such a good girl, isn't she?" The soldat sounds sickeningly sweet when he murmured in her ears.
"Don't." she whispered quietly.
"p-please soldat, ahh." She mewled, scratching the metal of his arm.
"That's it darling, cum for your soldat. give it to me,, aahhh" He motioned, forming an 'O' with his mouth as she clamp down on his fingers; with his wide eyes looking down at her exposed pussy.
Bucky's eyes snapped open, ripping him out of the distorted memories only to leave him gasping in the darkness. He woke up swimming in his bed, drowning in the flood of sheets with his heart pounding as if it was desperate to tear out of his chest.
He looked around suspiciously as if he didn't recognized his own room, until strain of his crotch distracted him. His eyes pried downwards to see his cock struggling to fit in his pants and the images of his lucid dream flashes again.
Bucky shuts his eyes tightly, hoping the torture would stop reminding him of his sins, "You sick fuck." A deep frown formed as he muttered curses to himself.
After hours and hours of free falling tears in her room, letting herself drown in a sorrow that she never knew she would ever experience, she let herself wonder back to those lovely moments of her with the soldat.
She found it ironic that somehow the memories of his touch was also the cure to the wounds left by cruelty of his words.
It's hours passed midnight and her tears finally stopped, at least until her body was able physically form more tears in her glands, she took the time as a chance for her to rest.
Y/N laid on her back, letting the remaining tears to fall into her ears.
Worst part of all of this was not knowing why, and being left in the dark, yet he managed to effortlessly left her heart broken into shatters.
"Don't touch me."
"Just stay the fuck away from me."
Bucky's words had been circling her mind like a raging tornado. It felt like the spitefulness of his voice was mocking the flaws of her fragmented heart, toying with what's left behind after the storm.
Y/N didn't even realized when did she started to make her way towards the kitchen, but it was as if her body knew its own limit when her feet walked her out of the confinement of her room and her mind remind her to hydrate herself.
As she entered the kitchen area, she wasn't expecting to see Bucky standing in the middle of it, leaning forward towards the counter tops.
Even with the little source of light from the corridor, Y/N could see the tiredness in his face as he stare blankly into nothing. But, his expression soon changed when he saw her.
She didn't know what she had done to make him so agitated whenever he laid his eyes on her.
The silence between them was so loud that Y/N couldn't help but to approach him.
"I..." She truly didn't know what to say but it felt like it was her fault. She did take advantage of him when the soldat took over; endless use of his body, hands, lips and not to mention what happened that night. "I'm sorry."
Bucky was truly appalled to her words, even though he didn't show it on his expression. Why does she had to apologize to him when he was clearly the problem, "Why are you apologizing?" his anger naturally slipped through as he spoke.
But Y/N didn't know that he was frustrated at himself, and not at her, so the tone that he used stung her as much as it did prior, "I don't know." She simply said.
Lies.
She knew exactly why apologized but she wasn't sure if Bucky knew what happened when he blacked-out. "I just... I don't want to stay away from you. I don't like it."
She can't; not when her yearning for him had grew stronger than ever before.
"Well, you better get used to it because it won't change any time soon." Bucky spat harshly.
Y/N felt her own rage started to bubble from within.
Why is he being so hot-headed and stubborn like a sulking child? Can't he just act like a fucking adult and talk it out?
Her brows crunched into a frown as she held back her tone, "Why?"
Bucky let out a frustrated as he tried to walk away, shooting a demanding glare as he was passing her, "Just do as you're told, y/n"
"Oh no, you're not gonna run away from this."
She grabbed him by his arms and pulled him back into the conversation. "That's not fair, Bucky."
"Not fair?" His eyes narrowed, as he looked down at the smaller.
She puffed out an angry breath as she glared up, "No, it is not fair! It's not entirely your choice to make." She can feel the flames started to spread, "Especially when you refused to tell me why." She yelled accusingly as she shoved her finger to his chest.
Blood roaring in Bucky's ears as his heart pounded hard, pouring the concealed frustration out like a broken dam as he explodes, "He almost raped you, y/n!!"
There was a few milliseconds of non-movements as both them let those few words sink into their processing brain, "I... almost raped you." His voice shook in both anguish and anger, leaving Y/N frozen in a speechless shock.
"Or maybe I already did and I don't even fucking remember." His hands roughly tugged his long hair back as if he tried to go through the pieces of shattered memories in his wrecked mind.
"And if that is not a fucking sign for you stay away from me, I don't know what else I should do to make you see that." Bucky was breathing heavily that his breaths echoed through the silenced space.
Y/N's mind was running wild as everything slowly clicked. Did he thought that he... No. She blinked several times before she could form actual words, "Bucky, what are you saying? It's okay, it's okay. Just please calm down first and--" she tried to reach for him but that only made Bucky retorted, physically and mentally.
"It's okay? No, it's fucking not. Are you even listening to yourself? Can't you see? I'm dangerous y/n." He sounded as desperate as he was for air. "Especially to you. And if my messed up past was not enough to prove it, then what happened between us when I relapsed certainly did."
His heart rate increase rapidly, and his lungs seemed to work double time. Yet, he refused to let her see how badly he needed comfort.
"Bucky, please breathe. And just.. listen to me--" Y/N was hopeless trying to pull him out of the chaos of his mind but he just wouldn't listen.
Bucky's voice started to waver as the dark revelation continued to cloud him, "He assault you, y/n. I fucking assault you. And I can't let that happened again. So, just please, stay awa--"
"It was my choice!" Y/N snapped as she grabbed Bucky by his shoulder, forcing him to focus on her. "Bucky, I let him touch me. I could stop him if I want to, but I didn't."
Bucky didn't understand, "W-why?"
"Because I know he wouldn't hurt me. You wouldn't hurt me." Y/N tried to lay it out for him slowly but then she realized that maybe he didn't need that right now.
"Fuck, Bucky! I'm not a saint." She cursed after a few short moments of hesitation, "I have a lot of feelings I need to deal with like every other human being. Lust, love, you name it. And he..."
In a brief moment, she thought of the soldat, "He gave me the opportunity to feel the love that I always wanted from you. He showed me what we could've been." There was a sense of longing in her eyes, "It started small, soft touches and loving kisses." She smiled to the memories of it.
"And the moment that I thought that it could've been you who's kissing me, touching me. I knew it was over." She didn't know how many times she almost slipped out his name whenever she calls for the soldat; the name 'Bucky' was always at the tip of her tongue but never out.
"One thing led to another and we... I didn't mean to let it stray too far." She confessed, "Bucky, I admit it was wrong for me to take advatange of you, of the soldat, and I know there's no excuse to my behaviour than my own inability to control my feelings for you."
If the soldat thought that he was being greedy, then that makes the two of them.
"I understand if you want me to stay away from you, but just let me say this out loud." Her hands slid down to find his, thankfully he didn't repulsed this time, "Bucky... I love you." She finally spilled the truth as her soften gaze trained on his eyes, "I have loved you for a long time."
Afraid that this could be the end, she refused to look away. She didn't care if Bucky would plunge daggers to her through his words, she want him to know that her feelings for him was unconditional.
And Bucky really tried his best to let all her words sink in, even though most of them were somehow redacted and lost in his head.
But, thankfully the most important ones was so loud and clear for him to draw a simple conclusion that would ease his relentless worries, "You...I.. I didn't force it on you?"
Y/N didn't know why she wasn't expecting him to believe her but she was glad that he did, "No" she replied simply.
Bucky's voice strangled while his hand gripping tighter in her hold, "I didn't hurt you?" His teary eyes pleaded for the truth.
"Not a even close." She smiled kindly.
Bucky felt as the unbearable burden on his shoulders was lifted off completely just by those few simple words that Y/N just uttered. The tears he was desperately holding back broke freely as they stream down his face, his shoulders trembled with the force of his emotions running through his veins.
He whispered, "You don't hate me for it?" He pulled her hands closer to his face, fluttering his eyes shut as he kissed the knuckles of her fingers.
"Never." Y/N reassured, as she cupped his face; stroking her thumbs on his scruffy cheeks, wiping the warm, salty tears away.
Bucky sighed to her touch, it seemed that his body remembered her more than his mind did, "And you love me?" He blinked as he placed his hand on top of her.
Y/N nodded with a loving curve on her lips, "Always have."
Bucky didn't know how she does it but she really did managed to mend and melt his heart all at the same time. It was magic. Or, maybe it was sorcery. But even if she ended up leaving a curse behind, Bucky would still be glad that he let her bewitched him.
Bucky stared down at her, admiring her the kindness in her eyes despite the swolleness of them. He felt bad for breaking her heart, making her cry. It tore his heart just thinking about it.
His tongue darted out for a brief second as his metal hand fell, wrapping around her body.
Y/N maintained to lock her eyes on his as her hand slid down, and pressed on his chest. Despite being comfortable with his touches, and with the amount of kisses the soldat had generously gave her, she shouldn't be nervous anymore but she was.
After all, the soldat never kisses her on the lips and Bucky had his eyes on hers since the beginning.
She wanted his too.
Seeing the anticipation in her eyes, Bucky leaned in to press a kiss on her lips, his flesh hand came up to tilt her chin up, then gently cupped her face as he pulled her closer.
Her lips was so soft against his, that Bucky was sure that he will crave to this every single day.
He briefly pulled away from the kiss to whisper a soft, "I love you too, y/n." Before coming down for another chaste, "More than you could ever fucking imagine." He almost growled as he dipped for more.
Their innocent kiss soon turned into something deeper. They kissed passionately, lost in the bubble of time and space, ignoring the silenced ambiance as they were fixated on the sound of their beating hearts.
And when they pulled away for air, Y/N giggled as a silly thought went through her mind, "Well, I kinda see the glimpse of it in those few days with the soldat, so I think I got the gist of it."
That caused Bucky to let out a genuinely hearty laugh before humming playfully, "Hmm, do you now?" He went in for another kiss, knowing full well that he was already addicted to the taste of her lips.
He just can't get enough of it.
Y/N answered briefly in between his kisses, "Yes."
Bucky smirked as he smoothly guided her backwards, until the back of her waist met with the cold tile of the kitchen isle, "Three times, was it?" his eyes glint with mischieve when he leaned again to steal another kiss.
"What is?" Y/N titled her head to the side, unknowingly giving access for Bucky to lead his kisses from her soft cheek down to her exposed neck.
His lips trailed along the crook of it as he whispered, "Was it three times that he made you cum?" If his goal was to seduce her; well it was safe to say that he did it rather flawlessly.
Y/N thanked god that the kitchen was dim-litted, because the redness on her cheek was rather embarrassing, "I-I'm not sure."
She lied. But, Bucky didn't need to know that.
Bucky chuckled lowly as he murmured, "It's okay, babydoll. We have all the time in the world to beat that record." his naughty hands had already made their way toward her ass before she even have the time to register what he suggested.
Lust decorated the blues in his eyes as he whispered, "Starting now."
End.
<< Part II || Extra >>
Read my other works here: Masterlist
A/N: Yeay, we have reached the end but I might have more of the couple in the future. Though I don't know when will it happen but I have hopes for it. Meanwhile, why don't you tell me what you think of the series and checkout my other work!
#winterarmyyfics#welcome home soldat au#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#winter soldier x you#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier!bucky
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suguru conditioned you to get wet every time he tied his hair up.
over the years he got into the habit of letting his hair relax. he wore it down with the new found confidence that came from your compliments and 'hey handsome's.
the only time he wore his hair in a bun was when he was shirtless between your legs.
if there was one thing he hated it was getting interrupted while he ate. he could allow his hair getting in the way when he was kissing you, holding you close. he liked the feeling of your fingers running across his scalp. he especially liked the tug you gave it when he sucked your nipple into his mouth, tongue laving and circling. a chuckle buzzing through his lips as you arched up into him.
that he could handle, but once he was face to face with your pussy he wouldn't allow it. he'd sit back on his haunches, skillfully gathering his hair into his palms with his thumbs. maybe it was just something about the way he looked down at you, carnally, ready to devour you with no restraint. maybe it was the way you knew he would do just that like he'd done so many times before.
he would run his hands up and down your thighs once his arms dropped to his sides. he'd leave soft kisses against your knee, guiding them down as he laid on his front. if your head wasn't so cloudy you would whine at the shit-eating smirk he wore as he looked at your glistening cunt.
"i haven't done much and you're already this wet?" he'd chuckle softly, so close to your skin that it felt like love wiring running under your skin, your hips bucking up into him. he'd hush you, reassure you that he'd give you everything you needed as he kissed just right above your twitching button.
"always so needy," he commented leaving open mouthed kisses on your outer lips, and though it was meant to come off snarky you couldn't help but keen like it was praise.
the first lick was always mind numbing. you held your breath as you felt his thumbs spread you open, watching his eyes flutter closed as he guided a flat tongue between your folds, the muscle giving your clit a gentle flick before he sucked it into his mouth. it was then you let your breath go, a whiny moan forcing it out.
"mmm," he hummed around you making your legs snap around his head as it shot pleasure down to your toes. "ah, ah, don't interrupt me while i eat, honey," he scolded softly, large hands prying your legs open so he could spread you up and open, pushing your knees to your chest so he could feast uninterrupted.
maybe it was better he kept his hair up despite how much you liked to tug on it. it let him focus in on your pleasure. he took his time, each move slow and calculated. he knew exactly what made your legs shake and what to do when he wanted you to suck in a deep breath, hands shooting up to the sides of your head to grip your pillow for stability.
he'd lightly scrape his nails against the sensitive skin of your thighs as he switched between slow, broad stripes against your clit to lip-bitingly quick flicks with the tip of his tongue. he'd bob his head, the gentle suck on your bud a tantalizing combo with the way the muscle swirled around it.
"so good, can't get enough of you," he'd sigh as he dropped down to your hole, gently kissing your clenching entrance before pushing his tongue in as deep it could go. he moaned at the way you twitched around him, hot and wet on his tongue.
he'd reach a hand up so his thumb could toy with your clit as he drank down your juices, steadily tongue-fucking you until your climax.
when you got your vision back there he was again, looking down at you with carnal desire, biceps bulging as he scooped his hair up into a secure bun once more, because he was definitely far from done with you.
A/N : i may have gotten carried away, i was about to go to sleep... and this was so not planned, I was supposed to write cute headcanons of how the jjk men start your apples for you. anyway I hope you enjoyed, reblogs and comments are always appreciated
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#geto suguru#suguru geto#geto x reader#geto x you#geto x y/n#suguru x reader#suguru x you#suguru x y/n#geto suguru smut#suguru geto smut#geto smut#suguru smut#jjk geto#jjk suguru#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen geto#jujutsu kaisen suguru#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x y/n#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x you#suguru geto x y/n
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soft sex with leon kennedy ♡
ahhh i love this man. comfort character fr.
anyway no warnings. fem!reader and lots of love praise and aftercare :3 smut below the cut! probably the longest fic i ever wrote so pls tell me if it’s actually decent. i’m not used to writing long fics
a reminder rqs are open btw :3
Leon struggles with telling you how much he loves you. He’s always been a man of few words since you knew him. does that mean he doesn’t love you? no way in hell. he loves you more than you’ll ever know.
It’s visible with the way he’s so gentle with you. When holding you, when talking to you, sleeping with you, making love with you.
Because Leon doesn’t fuck; he’s making love.
he’s so gentle, putting you on a pedestal, treating you like a queen you are. his eyes are on you as he kneels down in front of you, hands already on thighs and gently squeezing them. you swear you can see little hearts in his eyes with how in love he is with you.
“That’s it baby, so good for me. Always so pretty, the prettiest girl in the entire world.” and he’s saying this so lovingly as he takes his time with you. first, he places loving kisses all over your thighs, mumbling how much he loves you after each kiss. he finally tugs off your panties and lifts your thighs up, letting out a soft moan at the sight in front of him.
“Good girl. Love you so much, princess, can’t believe you’re mine.” with those words, he places your thighs on his shoulders, burying his face in your puffy cunt. he loves it there, loves when you close your thighs around his head. he presses light kisses on your clit, going down to finally dive in and eat you out like a starved man he is. truth be told, when he’s between your legs, he always loses himself, always in his own world with how good it feels for him. always praising you, even when it’s barely audible.
“Mm, fuck, you’re just perfect aren’t you? Sweet girl. Just sit there and let me take care of you.” he loves your taste. always spends so much time on your pussy, making you come at least two times before he even thinks of himself.
when you start trembling, he knows you’re close. he speeds up his movements, clumsily reaching out to hold your hand as his hand rests on your thigh. and then you cum — and he feels like heaven’s greeting him right now. you’re squirming, because you’re sensitive and yet he never stops eating you out; quite the opposite. he makes it a challenge to make you cum faster than the orgasm before the next one. with how sensitive you are it’s not hard — he starts fingering you, gently curling his fingers to reach your sweet spot that makes you spread and lift your legs higher.
“Could spend forever between your legs, love. Fuck, you taste too good for your own good. How can I not grow drunk on you?” all he thinks about in this moment is you, you, you — your face, your pussy, your hand tugging on his hair. he loves when you do that, loves when you use him for your pleasure.
“That’s it, angel. Jus’ use me all you want, ‘m all yours, my cock is yours, everything I own is yours. ‘m here to please you, baby, please,” he actually starts to get whiny at his own words — cock so hard it’s throbbing against his stomach but he just doesn’t want to stop until you cum again. he has to see you cum again — it’s like a blessing to him.
when you finally cum, he has this big, proud grin on his face, eyes hazy but full of love for you. you can notice just how hard he is — and yet he doesn’t care until you ask him to slide in. of course he’ll oblige, anything for his princess.
he reaches out to take your hand in his again, guiding his cock inside with the other. both of you moan at the same time, you because you feel him snug so well inside, him because he feels your gummy, warm walls already wrapping around him like a blanket. he feels like he’s about to cum right there and now, but he holds back, wanting to make you cum again.
“Fuck, you’re made for me. You’re so perfect, I love you so much. You feel so damn good.”
Leon’s not rushing it. his pace is actually pretty balanced, not wanting to overwhelm you. he peppers your neck with gentle love bites and hickeys, all the way to your chest where he sucks your nipples like his life depended on it. fondles your breast with one hand, sucking on the other one while still holding your hand. he’s searching for that spot you love so well — and when he finds it, he’s so proud of himself.
“Right there baby? Yeah? Good girl, taking me so well, this pussy was made for me.” he’s adjusting his position, arching his hips to just hit that sweet spot inside you repeatedly until he feels you squirming.
he loves being drunk on you, he loves drowning himself in you, your embrace, your scent. he loves everything about you. the way you scratch his back, dig your fingers in when you’re close — he moans so loudly at that you’re almost surprised if it wasn’t for him thrusting in you so well. you two are so close, but he cums right after you do — he wouldn’t dare cum before you.
he stays inside you for a moment, just staring into you lovingly. he presses a sweet kiss to your head, before slowly pulling out and picking you up.
“Cmon, babygirl. Did so well for me, time to take care of you.”
he carries you to the bathroom, cleans you up, makes sure you’re hydrated, well fed and clean before actually tucking you in bed, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest so you feel his heartbeat as you come down from your high.
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hey bestie listen. I’ve just learned about glove decorum in the regency era. wearing gloves was insanely important and rich women had like a gazillion of them. but anyway apparently letting a man take your glove off was akin to rawdogging it in public and I was like “oh König would. nasty bitch” my question is who else in the regency au would do that
FUCKING ALL OF THEM BESTIE
König tugs your glove off as you walk through his gardens, your royally assigned chaperone looks the other way as he raises your hand to his lips to kiss your bare knuckles. You freeze when his tongue darts out to trace between your fingers, warm and wet, and darkly promising when his teeth scrape your skin. He pulls your glove off at your very public proposal as well, just so he can "see the way the ring looks against your skin." His thick fingers are tight around your wrist to keep your from nervously pulling away, and he dares anyone to say anything when he turns your hand over to kiss the soft skin of your wrist.
Price tugs your glove off under the table at a dinner party. His fingers tracing over yours, enjoying the soft skin. You can only be glad that the table cloth covers the way he rubs his thumb against the back of your hand. It would be proper for you to pull your hand away and pull your glove back on, but proper doesn't make your stomach flutter the way Price's fingers do. He traces a gentle "L-O-V-E" against your palm and you have to stop from giggling. Neither of you look at each other, merely continue your separate conversations with the understanding that you're both terribly, improperly, in love.
Soap has no problem tugging your glove off at a party after someone bumps into you and your drink spills over your glove. You're engaged, what does he care if people think it's rude? You smack him just hard enough to maintain your dignity, and he grabs your bare hand to hold it against his cheek, excitement twinkling in his eyes. You've never been more sure of your impending demise than when you see him smile against your palm.
Ghost pulls your glove off in the sitting room of your family home. He quietly studies your hand, tracing his fingers over the hills and valleys of your knuckles, around the blunt edge of your nails, around the sides of each finger. It's like he can't stop from touching you, from observing every inch of you down to the smallest scrap of skin. He turns your hand over to trace the lines of your palm, his nail gently following the whorls of your finger prints as he stares at your skin. You take his hand to measure your own against it, and he curls his fingers over yours, slips them between yours to hold your hand. His eyes shine with affection. He covers your bare hand with his, two big hands concealing your lack of a glove, when your maid brings in tea.
Gaz "notices a tear" in your glove and offers you his while you walk through the park. You offer him your hand to show you where the supposed tear is, and he very kindly pinches the seam and pulls it apart. You curl your fingers against his hand when he tugs your glove off, his eyes linger on your ring finger and you both enjoy the warmth of the other's skin. He's much slower helping you fit his gloves onto your bare hand. "You may as well walk around with a matching pair," He tells you, pulling your other glove off to replace with his own. His fingers dip under the far too loose band to stroke your bare wrist as you finish your walk.
#cod x reader#x reader#x oc#cod x oc#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish x reader#john#soap x reader#john price x reader#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#f!reader#regency au#König#König x reader
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'til I touch, touch, touch you | Mob!Lewis
Summary: Lewis finds out that you have a thing for his hands.
Themes: explicit language, smut, fluff, praise kink, daddy kink
“Why are you sitting so far?”
He dared ask, looking at you like he didn’t know what he was doing to you. Manspreading on the other side of the couch, sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows revealing his tattoos, all the buttons of his shirt were undone so you could see his muscular, tattooed chest clearly, and his braids tied neatly at the back.
He looked confused as to why you put all that distance between you and him on the large couch. If you sat any closer, you’d end up getting on his lap and beg him to fuck you till the morning. And he’d been working late these past few days, he looked a little tired. He deserved a little rest, you thought.
But fuck. Those soft eyes he made at you weren’t helping. And his damn hands. One holding a whiskey glass, and the other extended towards you. You tried your hardest to look away from them. Tattoos all over his fingers, and all his rings… you took a deep breath and said, “It’s comfy here.”
He frowned at you and tried again, “Babygirl,” He spoke in that irresistible voice of his, “Come sit with daddy, I missed you all day.”
Ah, screw it. You gave up resisting and crawled to him until you settled right beside him, throwing your legs over his lap and leaned into the warmth of his bare chest. You couldn’t help but lean down and kiss his warm skin, right above the compass tattoo.
“I missed you too.” You murmured, letting your lips brush over his skin. Then you nearly groaned when he brought his hand over to caress your exposed thigh. As if just looking at them weren’t torture enough, now he was gliding those slightly rough, tattooed fingers all over your skin.
You nearly stopped breathing altogether when his fingers began getting closer and closer to your inner thighs. Your little satin PJ set wasn’t hiding much of your body anyway.
“How was your day?” He asked, keeping an eye on what was playing on the TV while his hand mindlessly caressing your thigh.
You couldn’t look away. Those hands had been your fixation for a while now. “Uh,” You struggled to respond, “It was fine. I did, you know, stuff.”
Damn him. His hand slowly inched even further up your thigh, stopping you from even thinking coherently.
“Hmm. What else?”
You opened your mouth to answer but his fingers teased your upper thigh and you couldn’t help but groan. Leaning more into his touch as you hid your face into the crook of his neck. He smelled delicious and you groaned even louder.
Lewis chuckled. “You think I haven’t noticed you’ve been staring at my hands?” You refused to look him in the eyes so he continued. “You’ve been doing it a lot lately, haven’t you? What is it? They turn you on?”
You whined, trying to close your legs but he tightened his grip on your thigh and you couldn’t move.
“You like my hands?” He teased, placing his glass down and bringing his other hand to cup your face.
You finally pulled away from his neck so you could look up at him, and nodded shyly.
“Yeah?” He chuckled. “Where do you want them?”
You mumbled something but it was neither coherent nor audible.
Lewis brough his thumb over to your mouth, tracing the shape of your lips as he said, “Louder baby, use your words. Where do you want daddy’s hands?”
“All over me.”
His pretty brown eyes stared deep into yours as he smirked. “Come here,” He said, pulling you onto his lap.
You straddled him like you had the habit of doing and waited, and watched how his hands went back to your thighs, inching higher and higher up your leg, caressing your inner thighs. He smirked when you moaned and kept going. Sliding those gorgeous, tattooed hands all over your soft skin. The cold metal of his rings made you shiver.
His hands had done terrible things given the nature of his job. He had hurt, maimed, pulled so many triggers, ended lives even, but they were so gentle with you. So careful.
He leaned in to kiss your jaw and down your neck, his stubbled brushing against your skin gently. His lips warm and soft as they brushed all over your skin. His knuckles brushed against the front of the flimsy PJ shorts you were wearing.
He whispered, with his lips hovering over the corner of your mouth. “I can feel how wet you are, baby.” He slipped his hand past the waistband, into your thin underwear and touched you gently. His fingers circled around your clit, before he pushed a finger in, then another and started gently moving them in and out of you. “Is this what you wanted? Hmm?”
He placed his thumb on your throbbing clit and brushed it occasionally while he finger-fucked you, your wetness dripping and smearing all over his hand. You threw your head back and moaned when his fingers touched you in all the right places, curling just right and massaging your sensitive spots perfectly.
His other hand gently wrapped around your neck, not squeezing yet but just holding you firmly. You got just a little louder as he sped up, his fingers slipping in and out of you with ease.
“Look down,” He said, “Look how well you’re taking daddy’s fingers.”
You did. And fuck if it didn’t make you whine and moan even louder.
And seeing you were whining and whimpering already, he decided to torture you more by moving his hand from your throat, “Open up, baby.” He whispered, pushing two fingers past your lips and into your mouth and slowly pumped those two as well.
Your lips immediately wrapped around his fingers. And he smirked at the sight of you, with two of his fingers buried in your wet core, slipping in and out of you rapidly while his other two fingers were buried into your warm mouth. His rings clinked against your teeth as he did.
“Do they feel good?”
You nodded desperately, clenching around his fingers.
The sounds you made alone were enough to make his pants feel tighter, and make him want to tease you even more. “Yeah? You like being completely stuffed, don’t you? Look at you, look how well you take it. Daddy’s perfect little slut, hmm?”
Your muffled moans, the way his hands moved against your skin, his fingers in your mouth, in your cunt… it was all too much. Soon you had tears streaming down your face.
He removed his fingers from your mouth and wrapped his hand around your throat again, squeezing just a little as he brought your face closer to his. His breath was just as ragged as yours, his lips inches away from yours. “Are you gonna come, baby? You’re gonna come for daddy?”
You nodded, moaning when he sped up again, his fingers stroking your walls perfectly and increasing the sweet, almost agonizing pressure forming in between your hips.
You rolled your hips against his hand in a haze, chasing your orgasm, moaning and whimpering. “Come for me, babygirl.” He encouraged you and tightened his grip around your throat just a little bit more.
And you couldn’t hold it anymore, you let the familiar waves of pleasure wash over you as you came all over his fingers, crying out loud in pleasure. Gushing out all over his hand as he kept pumping his fingers in and out of you, getting everything he could out of you. He finally pressed his lips to yours and kissed you hard.
You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself then. You hurried to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, lowering the waistband of his underwear to free his erected cock. The mere sight of his perfect cock had you whimpering with need again.
You got off his lap and dropped to kneel in between his legs immediately. You reached out and wrapped your hands around his base and placed your mouth on his cock immediately, your tongue slowly circling his tip. He groaned and spread his legs further apart, inching his hips slightly forward as you took more of him into your mouth.
He sighed as he leaned back and grabbed his glass of whiskey again and sipped on it as he watched you suck his cock, bobbing your head around him just like how he liked it. You took him inch by inch until he filled your mouth completely.
“Fuck, baby…” He swore under his breath again as you hollowed your cheeks and took him deeper into your mouth. “You feel so fucking good.” His praise gave you a rush.
You wanted more. You took most of his cock into your mouth and repeated your actions again and again.
He moaned and growled occasionally. He bucked his hips forward very gently into your mouth, and loved the sight of your spit coating his cock. You looked magnificent on your knees, taking him perfectly. You always did.
You took him out of your mouth and teased him a little bit, licking his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls as you gently stroked him. His taste and scent was all you could focus on.
He swore under his breath at your teasing, as you dragged your tongue over the slit on this tip lazily. He looked down at you with a warning in his pretty brown eyes, his glass of whiskey just an inch or two from his plump lips. “Don’t tease me, babygirl.” He spoke, his voice carrying nothing but authority and lust.
So you got back to it while looking him in the eye. You took him back into your mouth and sucked on his cock until he was so close to coming undone all over your tongue, groaning and grunting in pleasure. You sped up your actions because you liked the sounds which left his lips while he was right on the edge.
“Fuck… slow down, babygirl.” He moaned, breathlessly as he came into your mouth. His thigh muscles tensing and his hips thrusting gently up into your mouth.
You swallowed all that he gave you and you licked him clean before climbing onto his lap again. This time after taking your clothes off.
“You’re such a good girl for daddy, you know that?” He said, after catching his breath for a second or two. Hands reaching up to cup your face. “You want more?”
You nodded again, licking your lips for any remnant taste of him. Lewis smirked and pushed you back down on the couch before he slid inside of you again, effortlessly. And the two of you moaned in unison as he filled you up again, your walls already gripping him tightly as your back arched off the couch.
“Fuck…” You whimpered.
His one hand wrapped around your throat while the other held on to your hip, keeping you in place. You felt his cock stretching you, filling you up. Every inch of him sliding into your tight cunt. You could feel your eyes tearing up at how snug he felt inside you. And his hand around your throat… fuck.
He held your stare as he reached down to grab your legs and wrapped them around his waist. He looked down to where your bodies connected, quickly spitting right on your clit, his thumb spreading the wetness around as he leaned down to give you a messy kiss, swallowing your desperate moan in the process.
“Please,” You mumbled against his mouth. You couldn’t help your loud moans which followed as he moved his hips the slightest bit. His cock moving in and out of you.
“Please what, babygirl?” Lewis pulled away and watched you as you whined at the feeling of his cock slowly moving in and out of you.
“Fuck me, please.” You whimpered, then felt your walls clenching around him as he finally sped up and pounded into you. You felt all of him stretching you, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you until he was all you could focus on.
“You feel so fucking good…” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. “So perfect for daddy.”
You moaned at how perfect his hard, muscular, tattooed chest felt against yours, his weight pressing down on you. His slight stubble tickled your skin as he moved. His soft lips brushing against your skin as he kissed you everywhere he could.
Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist. His thrusts, relentless and unbearably good. The pressure around your lower body, tight and hot.
Lewis looked down at you as you tightened around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “Look at me, babygirl.” When you did, he whispered, “Daddy loves you. So much. You understand?”
You nodded. The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again.
He gave you a lazy smile, “Then be a good girl and come for daddy.” His hand squeezed your throat, making you moan even louder. He leaned in, giving you a messy kiss. “Come all over my cock, baby. Come on.”
You whimpered, unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. The familiar pressure formed at your core yet again and you whined when his hand let go of your throat and his fingers found your clit, toying with it while he pounded into you mercilessly.
Lewis loved that look on your face, that look of utter bliss, pain, pleasure, lust and hunger all at once. “That’s it, babygirl. You’re taking me so well, look at you. Now come, come all over me,” He whispered and that was all you needed to hear before you came undone all around him.
Whimpering and back arching off the couch as you came hard around his cock, tightening around him. He kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under his intense gaze.
He growled as he buried his cock deep inside you, coming undone right after you. You whined and whimpered as you felt him filling you up, feeling some of his cum drip down your thighs before he dropped carefully on top of you.
“You okay, baby?” He asked, gently kissing your neck while his hands touched you everywhere they could, rubbing up and down your sides, and thighs.
“Yeah,” You breathed, placing a hand on top of one of his, toying with his rings.
“Wanna go to bed?”
You sighed. “Don’t think I can walk just yet, give me a minute.”
#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton smut#mob!lewis#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton au#lewis hamilton imagine#f1#f1 fanfic
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hear me out trans!fem arle using a condom but accidentally breaking it 🤭 so she just goes with it anyway because we just feel too good
for the sake of safe and consentual sex, let's say this all occurs after you've both already decided you're okay with pregnancy 😊
(nsfw utc)
the grip she holds on your hips feels more like iron than muscle tonight. she's almost feral with it, snapping her hips into yours, driving you further into the mattress.
it's hard to say what's got her so frustrated, not that you have a brain to think too much on it now anyway.
she growls lowly to herself, how tight you feel, how you look so pretty for her. she can see indents in your skin from her nails, the evidence of your previous orgasms on the condom around her, the-
she hears a soft sound, quickly pulling out, much to your displeasure. "why'd you stop?" you whine at her, turning over your shoulder.
"sweetheart." she sighs, suddenly sounding gentle. "it broke." she tells you, prompting you to sit up.
she eyes you down, a silent question for you, to which you give her a silent answer.
you lay down onto your back, spreading your thighs for her again. "keep going, please." you beg her and she groans, fisting her cock. "please?"
you sound so sweet... the temptation was all too much.
she slides the broken condom off, lining up her cock with your pussy and sliding back into you, feeling you clench around her. your cheek turns to press against the blankets, grabbing at them desperately as she keeps fucking you.
"oh, please, please fill me up!" you cry for her and her head tips back, practically folding you into a mating press now as she pistons her hips harder.
your delirious little cries, the fluttering of your cunt around her, the feeling of your body under hers, it's just too much. her thumb slides to your clit, rubbing tight circles and urging you to cum around her just before she shoves herself as deep as she can, filling you up.
she shudders, leaning down over you and panting against your neck as you clutch at her biceps tightly.
"there's no going back now." she reminds you breathlessly.
"i... wouldn't want to." you reply tiredly, and she kisses your cheek sweetly, rolling you over to lay on her chest for now to rest.
#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader smut#fem reader#genshin wlw#arlecchino x reader#arlecchino smut#genshin arlecchino#arlecchino genshin#arlecchino#💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚#💐─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴#🪷─𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 `♡´
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kinktober !
kink: somnophilia
pairing: lee minho x fem!reader
wc: 1.3k
somnophilia: a sexual interest in engaging in sexual activity with a sleeping person.
You checked the time, yet again. 11:39PM. You'd known Minho would be home late late tonight, but you couldn't help but hold out hope anyways. Partly because you loved falling asleep beside him. Mainly because you wanted him to rail you before bed.
You really, really wanted to try and stay awake for him… But it had been a long day, and there was only so many times you could force your eyes to re-open when they drifted shut. You huffed sulkily as you pulled out your phone to text Minho.
'can't stay awake much longer min, might be asleep when you get back :( morning sex instead?'
Less than a minute later, your phone began to buzz. Minho? He was calling you… To tell you he was on his way to fuck you imminently? You hoped so.
"Hey, sleepy," he greeted you.
"Hey," you mumbled back. "Practice going okay?"
"Yeah, going pretty well. I'd rather be home with you, though."
You groaned down the phone. "Ditch them. Come fuck me."
Minho's laugh rang through the speaker. "Listen, I just wanted to catch you quickly before you fall asleep. Do you still want me to fuck you when I get home?"
You blinked. "I can't stay awake, Minho, I told you-"
"That's not what I asked," he cut you off. "It's up to you. But if you want me to fuck you anyways, I will."
Oh. You'd spoken about this before, a while ago. Somnophilia. It was mainly a hypothetical conversation, but you'd both expressed interest in it.
Tired as you were, you grinned. "Yeah, baby, that sounds good."
"See you later, honey."
A few minutes ago, you'd been on the edge of sleep. Now you were so excited you didn't know if you could fall asleep. You took off your pyjamas, setting yourself up for easy access, before climbing back into bed and closing your eyes tight. Thankfully, you managed to fall asleep.
♡
Minho couldn't hold back a soft gasp when he saw your sleeping form. So peaceful, as always, laid on your side as you cuddled into the blankets. Your eyes were shut, your breathing slow and gentle. He couldn't fucking wait to disturb you.
He dropped his towel, fresh from his shower after practice, and climbed onto the bed ever so gently; he didn't want to come bounding in and wake you from the outset. If it were up to him, you'd remain sound asleep until the second he thrusted his dick inside you. Though, realistically, he was aware of his own fingering skills, and doubted that you were capable of sleeping through that.
His face lit up when he pulled back the blankets to find you unclothed. His hand ghosted down your figure, trailing over your breast, down your side, across the curve of your hip. He'd made sure to warm his hands upon getting home, not wanting to startle you. He moved you so gently, easing you onto your back so that he could spread your legs. You let out a quiet sigh, and he paused for a moment, looking for any signs of stirring. Thankfully, you remained asleep.
He kneeled between your legs, taking a risky move and leaned down, blowing cool air onto your nipples. They reacted within seconds, visibly hardening, making Minho's cock twitch.
He pinched your clit gently between his forefinger and thumb, monitoring your reactions carefully. He circled it with his thumb, building the pressure slightly when he was reassured that it wasn't waking you up.
You were getting wetter and wetter as Minho continued his motions, and he had noticed this. He let a finger trace over your hole lightly, just enough to gather some of the wetness and slick up your clit. He rubbed it faster, his fingers sliding around with little friction.
Minho's cock was only growing harder as the minutes passed. He resisted the urge to stroke himself as he played with you. As much as he wanted some of the pressure to be relieved, he also wanted your pussy to be the very first thing he felt.
He slipped a finger inside you, just one, easing it inside so slowly. He had to stifle a moan - you were impossibly tight, clenched around his digit, though you were so wet that it slid in easily. He found your g-spot, curling upwards to meet it. You let out a sleepy whimper at this, and his head snapped up to monitor your expression. Your eyebrows were furrowed, but you still seemed far from waking. He sighed in relief.
Minho adored teasing you, so he was no stranger to going slow. But tonight, it was more about keeping you asleep than driving you to tears with frustration. He slid another finger inside you, stretching you open, preparing you for his dick. He scissored his fingers, opening you up until he was satisfied he could fit himself inside without hurting you.
He was practically shaking with excitement as he lined up the tip of his cock with your hole.
"Fuck," he cursed quietly, easing the tip in. He held you by the hips, his fingertips light as a feather as he angled them just so. And then, in one swift motion, he pushed his dick inside you, all the way to the hilt.
You were sleeping soundly, but there was no way you could sleep through that.
"M-Min?" you whimpered, bleary-eyed.
"Shh, it's okay," he soothed you, planting a kiss on your forehead. "Go back to sleep."
You closed your eyes obediently, remaining in that warm, sleepy state. Minho began to thrust slowly, pulling himself out of your pussy before sliding all the way back in. You were so mind-numbingly tight, so fucking wet. He felt like he was going crazy. He so wished to fuck you ruthlessly, to pound into you hard and fast and make you cry out his name. But, he couldn't. Not when you were right where he wanted you. Drowsy, pliant, so quiet and still.
You raised your arms, holding them out to him, signaling that you wanted him closer, and he just about melted. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight. He was in paradise - he couldn't believe his luck, that he had a partner who would let him do this. That you trusted him enough to give your entire self to him, in this state. It was almost enough to make him blow his load already.
You buried your head in the crook of Minho's neck and shoulder, breathing in the scent of his soap. The quiet, breathy moans you let out at each thrust were like music to his ears.
Minho was buried so deep inside you. He began to fuck you faster - compared to the ferocity he usually fucked you with, his pace was still fairly tame. But to your sleepy self, it was completely and utterly mind-blowing. You squeaked, the noise muffled by Minho's skin.
He couldn't take it any more; it was all too much. Your warm body pressed flush against his, your arms wrapped around him, the way you clung to him. Your soft, sleepy noises, the way you let your body move with his. You let him use you so willingly.
Minho removed himself from your grasp, straddling your chest, still moving so gently so as to disturb you as little as possible. He gripped your cheeks, pushing open your mouth and eased the tip of his dick onto your tongue. You began to suck, completely instinctively, making Minho moan aloud.
You came around a little, and started sucking with more intention, and he came within seconds, shooting his salty seed onto your tongue. You swallowed it gratefully.
"Was I good, Minho?" you asked, looking up at him through tired, squinted eyes.
"So good, baby," he panted. "So fucking good."
#stray kids smut#skz smut#skz fic#stray kids fic#hyunsvngbinitober !#lee know x reader#lee know smut#lee minho smut#lee minho x reader#lee minho fanfiction#lee minho fic#stray kids fanfic#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#stray kids x y/n#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#skz fanfic#skz imagines#skz scenarios#skz x reader#skz x you#minho fic#minho smut#minho x reader#lee know fanfiction#lee know fanfic#lee know fic
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The people have spoken!
Douma x BIG Boobs
NSFW beneath the cut. F!reader.
It was winter, the temple was cold, and your nipples were pretty hard (lol) to miss.
Your yukata was thin and you weren't wearing anything beneath it to support your soft, heavy breasts as you lined up to get your breakfast.
You looked like a fertility goddess, and that got his devious little brain whirring.
Muzan wouldn't allow the Eternal Paradise cult to have more than 200 followers at any one time, so Douma couldn't draw too much attention to himself (*pout pout*)
BUT you, on the other hand... you could have as many as you could attract
And with assets like those... well...
Douma just STARED, his eyes all wide and his lips curved into a devilish smile. (You know that one bit in the upper moon meeting when he whips his head round to stare at Akaza? That's how he was with your tits.)
"Dear, come here," he beckoned you over to him as he sat cross-legged on his cushion.
The moment you drew close he pulled the chord holding up the curtains and closed you off from the rest of his disciples.
He stood, towering over you, crooking a finger beneath your chin and tilting your face toward him.
"Hm... pretty..." he murmured to himself. Yes you could definitely attract a following. You wouldn't even need to speak. You could just sit on a dais and women would flock to you hoping for your blessing.
It didn't matter whether it worked or not. He was going to eat them all anyway.
Perhaps he'd start a rumor that they'd have to line up and rub your breasts for good luck and fertility? Or suckle upon them? Oh the thought of that made his dick twitch.
"Are you cold?" he said softly, brushing his knuckle over your stiffened nipple.
Your gasp made him chuckle. Of course you adored him, you were his disciple after all. You would let him do whatever he wanted.
He could feel the pitter patter of your mortal heart, your pupils spreading like ink droplets as you gazed up at him. Oh and that precious little quiver of your bottom lip.
You were scrumptious. Just the sweetest little thing.
He wasn't going to eat you, but he NEEDED something of yours in his mouth.
And if you were going to be a goddess then you needed to start getting used to being treated like one.
He got down on his knees, gazing up at you with those kaleidoscope eyes and smiled. "May I warm you up, most radiant one?"
He asked so nicely he knew you wouldn't refuse. You nodded and gave a breathy "yes."
He opened your yukata, tugging it down to your waist and just
....
Oh...
......
Oh you were a feast (for his eyes)
Never once, across centuries of *ahem* encountering women had he seen breasts quite like yours.
None so exquisitely large and heavy and ohh~ so soft he couldn't help but fill his hands with them and just grin as they spilled over.
And your poor nipples were all hardened from the cold. That wouldn't do at all.
He latched on to one of them, pressing his tongue flat against your aching bud, cock pulsing at the gentle moan which left your lips.
You braced your hands on his broad shoulders as you put your head back and whined.
As a demon, Douma didn't need to breathe, but you were certainly making him pant as he lapped at your nipple.
He couldn't resist pressing the pointed tips of his fangs to your supple flesh; not hard enough to break the skin, but enough that it got his heart pumping.
When you whimpered he was done for.
He picked you up, put you on his cushion and knelt at your feet, taking your hand and putting it around his cock as he continued to suckle from you.
You didn't need to do anything more than form a tunnel with your fist for him to fuck up into.
He switched sides and began to suck the other, bringing his hands to the first to flick your slippery nipple with his thumb.
The way you attempted to stifle your moans against your hand was adorable to him.
And when you squeezed your thighs together to satiate the ache building between them, well... that wouldn't do. His Goddess wasn't about to go unworshipped now.
You were on the same page as he was, practically pulling him by the cock toward your entrance, muffling your wanton cries as the disciples went on with their breakfast on the other side of the curtain.
Oh but you both were feasting in your own way, him on your succulent tits, you stuffed full of his cock.
Your hands caressed his chest as he rutted against you and Douma raised his head to grin.
"Mine aren't quite as fat as yours."
"Not quite," you whispered. "But almost."
Cheeky little thing, he adored you more with every second.
He punished and rewarded you for that comment by thrusting hard against you, biting your nipple before lavishing it with slow, hungry licks.
"I've always promised you paradise, my darling," he said as he set a steady rhythm with his hips. "It's about time I saw that through."
Oh the wet slap of your sopping cunt swallowing his dick was a thing of beauty. Your muffled whimpers, the sluttish blush on your cheeks and staining your chest were art.
Douma was completely lost in you; his face buried between your breasts, biting, licking, sucking, groaning between them as your greedy pussy clenched and fluttered around his dick, dragging him over the edge with you.
You came together; his rainbow eyes rolling back as he pressed firmly into you pumping you full of his cum and claiming you as his own.
His Goddess whom he would not share.
"Now, wasn't that fun?" He cooed, pinching your nipples between his fingers and laughing. "Are you all warmed up?"
You nodded as you fought to catch your breath and Douma smiled.
"Good... because I'm just getting started."
#doma x reader#kny doma#doma x y/n#doma smut#doma#douma my beloved#kimetsu no yaiba douma#kny douma#demon slayer douma#douma x reader#douma smut#douma x y/n#douma x you#douma fic#douma
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Aftercare with poly Skk <3
✦ノ a/n. was listening to sabrina carpenter while writing this. NO ONE TOLD ME I COULDNT MAKE THIS OMEGAVERSE!! *runs away*🏃♀️🏃♀️
✦ノ c/ws. wc::: 1.6k, OMEGAVERSE, alpha!chuuya x omega!reader(fem.) x alpha!dazai, afab/amab terms, polyamorous relationship, vaginal and anal penetration, teehee some lore behind the anatomy of an omega, knotting, witty bantering, soft and gentle aftercare, reader doesn’t speak much, exploring their characters, cumming inside w/no protections, vulnerability, it’s just dazai and chuuya talking for most of it (reader is too tried and fucked out to care), divider made by me, NOT PROOFREAD/EDITED, all credits belong to @rusmii NO STEALING >:((((
“fuck!” dazai curses, feeling his knot start to swell as he fucks you from behind. “easy on’er ‘zai!” chuuya hissed at the clench of your walls, his own base swelling as well. you moan and whine at the intensity of their incoming knots, their dicks growing in size as they fuck their previous knot out of you. squelching noises were made as rounds of their cum spills out of your holes, creating a sticky mess in between your crotches. “mhm - ‘m cumming -!” dazai announces before his thrusts sped up, causing chuuya pace to change and match his. “hey, sweetheart, look up.” chuuya uses his fingers to tilt your chin up, eyes connecting with dazai’s as the latter takes your neck into a lock and holds you up. “let’s give chuuya a pretty show, yeah?” dazai says with certainty, his dick as swollen as his base by now — barely managing to pull out of your ass.
chuuya was at his limit, cock just about stuck in your cunt by the time your expression changes — giving him a lewd show as your body twitches uncontrollably along with dazai’s fucked out face. throwing his head back onto the plush of the pillows, chuuya cums deep inside of your pussy, marking it as his own. dazai too was dumping his load into you, both holes leading to the same route anyways when he feels his tip touch chuuyas tip. they exchanged a mutual glance before dazai dropped your limp body into chuuyas arms, forcing the redhead to use his wrists to support him after falling on top of you. “tch - lazy bastard. use your damn arms!” chuuya shouts at him, causing the brunette to whine.
“gah! chuuya is always so mean to me!!”
“shut the hell up and help me. need to run’er a bath.”
having been a few minutes into the knot, dazai makes haste of bringing down the swell. “can’t do that when it’s only been three minutes.” he sighs, sitting up. it usually took a minimum of ten minutes for their knots to start going down, and if they forced it out now, it’ll cause your walls to rip and shed blood almost instantly. chuuya stayed quiet, gesturing at the nightstand full of juice boxes and candies. pulling his weight over, dazai reaches for the apple juice and a few wrapped candies, hoisting your body up with the help of chuuya. “darlin’ open your mouth for me?” chuuya asks, bringing the straw to your lips.
as if it was a command, you obeyed without the slightest hesitation, earning soft praises from your two alphas. “good girl, good omega,” dazai kisses your nape, unwrapping a piece of hard candy for you to suck on as he slowly lifts your body — seven minutes in and he can almost pull his knot out of you. “mhm… ‘samu.. chuu..” you groan their names, the aftermath of their rough treatment from earlier tonight was finally catching up to your body. “we’re here. don’t worry - chuuya will run you a bath while i clean you up, ‘kay?” dazai pulls your hair back, massaging your shoulders while chuuya slips himself out of your pussy — giving you a gentle kiss on the lips before giving dazai a chaste one.
watching as the redhead hastily leaves the room ass-naked, dazai pushes himself out of you, carefully managing your body into a lying position. he kicks off the bed, promising to return to you soon under the condition you don’t act up and cry without the both of them there. after agreeing with his terms, you roll on your side, pain engulfing your body even more as you attempt to drag the blanket up the bed. “fuck..” groaning, you decide to give up after a second or two once you realized you didn’t have enough strength to carry the weighted duvet. soon, dazai’s voice echoed down the hall, asking chuuya about the temperature of the water. not being able to hear much of their muffled chatter, you whine — missing your alphas besides you, holding you, cradling you.
the door opens, revealing the return of dazai as he tuts at you. “aww! is our omega missing us?” he teases, setting aside the cloth and large bowl of water on the nightstand. “[name]?” he calls your name, hands on your knees, “can you spread your legs for me, love?” asking for permission before doing anything else, dazai stares at you with such adoration, you wonder if it’s the same type of gaze he gives chuuya whenever he’s with him. parting your legs, you lay back, letting dazai clean the cum off you. the wet cloth gave you goosebumps, the chilling air chasing after the warm water as your lower half was relieved of the sticky mess. minutes past, and chuuya enters the room, leaning his weight on the doorframe.
“hey, baths ready,” his voice makes dazai stop wiping your thigh, quickly throwing the small towel into the bowl before getting up, and watching as chuuya came to pick you up bridal style. “hmm~ is chuuya willing to carry me like that someday?” dazai half jokes, part of him wanting to know if the redhead would carry him like how he handles you instead of dragging him everywhere. trailing after him, they made their way inside the bathroom, chuuya placing you on the toilet seat and ordering you to piss. “can’t have ya’ getting a uti or something.” he would always say. dazai didn’t mind it though, he would still eat you out even if you had a yeast infection because nothing could change his love for you. but still, he respected chuuyas desire to keep your health in check before doing anything out of order.
after checking that the water temp was just right, he barked at dazai to go wipe you clean before bringing you into the tub. “i’ll get everything ready so make sure she doesn’t have piss dripping down her legs!” — “yesss siiiirrrr…” dazai pouts. as childish as he was, chuuya knew he could trust dazai with you in such vulnerable situations. once you are wiped clean, dazai picks you up with relative ease and hands you over to chuuya. carefully putting you down in the tub next to him, he turns his attention to dazai. “cmere,” he pulls dazai near him, despite his hands being wet, he’s able to peel dazai’s bandages down without much trouble.
the water swishes, your sore body slowly making its way to dazai’s arm as you attempt to peel it with your flimsy fingers. this made dazai chuckles, amused at your failed picking. “thank you, sweetheart,” he says once he hears a whine emit from your throat. the moment chuuya was done unwrapping his side of bandages, he moved his hands to where yours were, helping unravel the long roll. “don’t cry dolly, you helped a bunch. thanks,” he plants a kiss on your cheek, making room for dazai to step inside the tub.
the water was warm and relaxing. sighing as you relished the bath, you felt warm water being poured down your back. “ ‘m gonna wash you up, ‘s that okay?” chuuya asks, adjusting the setting of the shower head. humming, you sit upright, allowing chuuya to rinse your hair with the right amount of pressure. after that, he grabs the shampoo bottle from the side, squeezing a sufficient amount into his palm prior to closing it and handing it to dazai, who likes to clean himself at his own pace. massaging your head gently, chuuya makes sure to reach every part of your scalp before washing the soap off. repeating the previous process with conditioner, it was time for body wash.
“okay.” chuuya hums to himself, satisfied with his work. dazai clumsily drops the body wash into the water, muttering out a quick apology as he hands it to chuuya. “don’t apologize for accidents,” he reminds the brunette, pushing the bottle back to him. dazai, sensing what chuuya was about to say next, interrupts him. “um..- i already washed myself..” unsure of what to say next, he could see the gears turning inside chuuyas head, “oh -.” — “actually, can i wash her?” an awkward smile formed on dazai’s lips, his confidence faltering in spite of his secondary gender.
chuuya smiles, moving out of the way. “i need to wash myself anyways.” dazai replaces the redheads position, measly squirting out a large amount of body soap before rubbing his hands together, creating a vast foam that he’ll massage onto your body. running his hands up and down your back, dazai is careful to carefully apply pressure to the bruises they have given you thirty minutes ago. gulping, he finds himself successful in exfoliating your back, up your arms, around your stomach and chest area, and finally your legs.
moving his hands back up to your shoulders, he hears you moan in delight — a thank you that was barely audible, but he still understood the mumble. feeling accomplished, he hums, not needing to say more. grabbing the shower head, he flicks the water back on and starts rubbing the soap off your body. chuuya waits patiently, watching as the last bit of soap finally comes down. taking the shower head from dazai, he starts washing his hair, the cold conditioner disappearing. he looks at dazai, who has you seated in his lap, resting your head on his chest while you doze off.
“you can take her back to the room, i’ll meet you guys in a few,” he says, but dazai shakes his head. “chuuya better hurry before i fall asleep here with her!” the brunette whines, causing chuuya to roll his eyes. “dramatic asshole.” he chuckled.
idk if u guys noticed yet but i love giving chuuya a lil tiny accent teehee🤭🩷
#the omega in me rlly came out w/this one#𝙇𝙐𝙑 𝙍𝙐𝙉𝙄💕#...𝗗𝗜𝗥𝗧𝗬 𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗞 <//3#𝙇𝙐𝙑𝙈𝘼𝙄𝙇𝙎💌#tw omegaverse#cw omegaverse#chuuya x reader#dazai x reader#chuuya x reader x dazai#chuuya smut#dazai smut#bsd x reader#bsd smut
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