#trails x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gutsby · 2 months

Text

Homemade

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.

Warnings: 18+. Sneaky sex tape fun with dbf!Joel ;-) Unprotected p-in-v. Age gap. Daddy kink. Facefucking. Joel being the world’s worst cameraman. Shower sex. Overstimulation via adjustable shower head. Dirty talk. Screaming ‘daddy’ too loud, and your father shows up.

Translations: In Chile, pico is slang for penis. Joel’s is big.

Part of the Waiting Game series

“If this ever ends up on PornHub, I’ll kill you, Miller.”

Joel knew you meant it, too.

The only reason you’d agreed to make this dumb little ‘home video’ at all was because you were headed back to college tomorrow and wouldn’t see him again until May. Doing long distance was tough, but doing long distance while simultaneously trying to keep a risqué, torrid, and totally-not-age-appropriate love affair with your father’s best friend under wraps was infinitely more difficult. This was the safest way to keep desire alive in the meantime.

Immortalized on a Sony CCD-TR70—because neither one of you trusted iCloud to keep a sex tape secret.

It had also been the only video camera you could find in the closet before your dad had plopped down on the couch just outside your room and announced he would be watching Oppenheimer for the third time. You’d had to scurry off fast before he could invite you to join him.

“I’ll be damned—this thing’s gotta be as old as I am,” Joel mused as he stood at the foot of the bed, camcorder pointed at your semi-nude form.

“I didn’t know they had cameras back in the Stone Age.”

Your smirk didn't flinch, even when Joel flipped you off.

You were lying on your side, head propped up on one hand while the other picked at a few loose strings from the comforter. The lacy, pastel pink bustier holding your tits in place was currently making breathing feel like a chore, and your skin was on fire from the warmth of the room, but you tried not to show it. Joel twisted a dial.

“Alright, now...flash ‘em for daddy,” he grinned as soon as the lens focused in where he wanted: your cleavage.

You rolled your eyes.

“A little closer, please,” you said, patting the space in front of you.

Joel didn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still cradling the camera, he clambered over the bed so fast he nearly tripped and took a nosedive in the headboard. You had to cover your mouth to contain a shriek of laughter—and terror—as his frame barreled into yours.

“JOEL!”

Fortunately, your cameraman was quick to recollect himself, planting a knee on either side of your chest once he’d knocked you onto your back. Then, from above, he angled the grey-black hunk of metal just a foot away:

“Anything you’d like to say to the folks watching at home, ma’am?” Joel inquired, suddenly assuming all the poise and matter-of-fact elocution of a news reporter.

You stuck your tongue out at the camera and blew the wettest, fattest raspberry you could muster in response.

Joel hummed, zoomed in on your lips, and nodded.

“Fascinating,” he said, pretending to make sense of the fart noise you’d just made with your mouth, “Have you ever given thought to maybe...sucking cock on camera?”

The swiftness with which he was able to dodge your kick was remarkable. He swayed the camera just out of reach before you could shove it away and say, ‘Joel, quit being GROSS’ and he promptly replied, ‘Ain’t that the whole point of a sex tape, sweet pea? Bein’ a little bit gross?’ And you playfully tried to kick him again, only this time, he caught your foot and yanked you closer to him. He turned the camcorder back to your face and grinned.

“That’s my little pornstar,” he murmured with affection. Then, zooming in again, this time to find your panty line, “Riiiiight there.”

You knew giving Joel Miller recording privileges for an occasion as momentous as this was a bad idea. At the rate you were going now, you’d be seeing the sunrise through the window before you ever got a glimpse of his dick. You needed to take matters into your own hands.

Literally.

You crawled on all fours to get to Joel across the bed.

The man, kneeling with the camera pointed in your direction, looked up to cock a brow at you.

“Sweetheart, hey, can ya do that one more—”

“Hush,” you muttered, closing in on his crotch.

Your head was lowered so you could undo the front of his jeans. Because of this, your back was arched, and your ass was pointed up just the slightest bit. For a second, Joel seemed torn between tilting the lens to your lower half or your face, which was inching ever closer to the bulge in his trousers. In time, he landed on the latter.

He swallowed. That sight never got old—and seeing it displayed on the camcorder’s semi-grainy screen only made it that much hotter. Joel shifted on his knees while you worked him out of his boxers, watching the nimble movements of your fingers as you wrestled the fabric.

“Wanna—” Glancing to the side of the bed, “—maybe—”

“Yup.”

Both of you liked it better on the floor: you on your knees in front of Joel, chin tilted up to see his reactions as you sucked him off. You loved to sink between his legs and then see and feel nothing but him, brain going blank the moment his cock filled your mouth. Joel slid a pillow under your knees before widening his stance some.

“Is it on?” Your hand was wrapped firmly around the base of his cock and your lips were hovering an inch from the tip. You resisted the urge to lick the precum off just yet.

“Darlin’, it’s been on ever since you stepped outta the bathroom in that— that—” Joel seemed to be searching for a word when the head of his cock was enveloped in a kiss. You dragged your tongue across the slit of him and collected the hot, salty beads with a muffled moan.

Then you pulled off.

“Teddy,” you said, reminding him of the name for that pretty little tulle and lace getup you currently had on.

“Teddy,” Joel echoed, his mind a million miles away from any lingerie jargon at the moment. He held the camera tighter as you took him back into your mouth and sank deeper on his cock. He struggled to keep it steady.

It was strange, watching Joel and the rounded glass of the lens as you did this dirty thing that was only meant to be shared between you and him. Knowing it would be recorded, saved for future viewing, displayed on some dimly lit screen in Joel’s bedroom maybe one, twice, or more likely than not, several dozen times over the next three months. You wondered how you might look from this new point of view; though, you weren’t so sure you needed to know what sight Joel was made privy to while you sucked and hollowed your cheeks around his cock.

As it turned out, that uncertainty wasn’t meant to last you very long, because Joel flipped the camera’s screen around two seconds later. Some sepia-tinted, pixelated rendition of your face, framed by the date and time and a bright red flashing dot beside the word ‘REC’ were the first to greet you. You flinched back just a little.

“Joel,” you said, almost bashful, “Flip it back.”

Joel just grinned. Then he laced his fingers through your hair and tugged you closer to him, thumb stroking over your scalp, “C’mon, darlin’, don’t ya wanna see how goddamn pretty ya look on your knees for me?”

You didn’t think you looked pretty at all. In fact, you reckoned your features looked something more like an alien utility funnel than a real, human face as you tilted your chin inward and seemed to be nothing but eyes and a hollowed-out expression, but you let Joel guide you back onto him all the same. You heard a low rumble of pleasure take shape in his chest as your lips slid over his shaft. Your gaze remained glued to the screen as you did.

Wet with saliva and a few faint traces of precum, you continued to bob your head up and down. Joel’s groans grew louder, and your drive to take him further and further surged as well. By the time his hand was tightening into a white-knuckled fist in your hair, you’d nearly taken him all the way to the back of your throat, and your nose was no more than an inch from the soft tufts of hair on his belly. Joel let out a shuttering breath.

“Fuck me,” he heaved. You might’ve smiled if your lips weren’t otherwise occupied. Then he clenched his hand even harder and murmured, “Can you— can I, please—”

Again, you didn’t need him to finish the rest of the question to know what he wanted. You moved your head back just slightly to nod, a low, ‘Mhmm’ reverberating down the length of his dick as you gave him permission. Joel swallowed and set the camera aside immediately.

He placed it on the nightstand, perfectly level with your head, to the side. Then he rotated the device just a bit, took one glance at the screen, and shortly returned to where you were watching him with wide, glossy eyes.

“Ready?” he asked. His right hand now joined the left at the back of your head, but not before thumbing a quick touch over your cheek to get a feel for your approval.

You hummed once more. You watched Joel’s hips move forward, hands secure around your scalp all the while, and you felt a gentle nudge at the back of your throat. Then another. You couldn’t help the impulse to gag, but thankfully, it was short-lived. Joel peered down at you, eyes searching yours for any plea to stop or slow down, but he found nothing. He sheathed himself deeper until your lips were brushing the base of his dick. He groaned.

“That’s a good…fuckin’ girl,” he managed, voice strained, “Takin’ my cock so deep.”

He shifted his hips to move an inch or two out, then slid his cock forward again, bumping that spot at the top of your throat. This time, you were better adjusted to take him and felt your muscles expand and contract around him without activating your gag reflex. Your eyes stayed trained on his face while he dragged his cock back again.

“My pretty girl and her—” Joel stabbed back into you, somehow tender in the way he did it, “—pretty fuckin’ mouth…Sweet thing likes gettin’ facefucked, does she?”

With the increased pace of his thrusts and the grip he had on the sides of your head, you couldn’t quite answer, but Joel could tell from the glint in your eye that you loved when he manhandled and fucked your throat like this. Watched the light sear gently behind those irises as you swallowed every inch of his cock, back and forth, and let your brain break down to little more than a happy, mindless mush. Joel was always keen to oblige you on that front—aroused to no end at the sight of all your thoughts being fucked straight out of your head—and within the next few thrusts, his gut was giving a familiar clench. He pulled halfway out of your mouth, paused, felt the pinch again, then withdrew from your lips fully.

“Get on the bed.”

You straightened back up and made it over to the mattress, quickly. Before you could assume the position you’d been hoping to take on all fours, you felt yourself flipped on your back. Joel yanked your hips to the edge of the bed and kneeled down between your legs. Hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and had them shuffled down your thighs and past your ankles in no time at all. Then, when he lowered his lips to your wet, aching core, you pressed a touch to the crown of his head.

“Joel, wait,” you said. All of a sudden your chest felt tight.

In spite of the fact that your airways were open and completely free from any obstruction—namely, Joel’s big ol’ pico—you still found it difficult to inhale. Some murky, amorphous sense of anxiety weighed over your chest.

When your hand didn’t move from his head and instead pushed him further, Joel furrowed his brows, perplexed.

“What’s’a matter, darlin’?”

You shook your head, more to yourself than to him.

“I haven’t…just— haven’t washed down there today…o-or shaved,” you stammered, “Don’t want you to taste it.”

That was largely a lie. You’d bathed, shaved, and prepared for this just fine, but really were more concerned about the novel optics that loomed overhead. Being filmed in such a singularly vulnerable state without knowing how to act. You were fine when the attention was focused on Joel and his pleasure, but something about having your every whimper and moan laid bare before you on film felt daunting. Unnerving, in a way.

Joel frowned while rubbing your thigh. His brow pinched inward again, as if he were considering something.

Then he moved across your body, and your muscles eased with relief at the thought that he’d just let it go and get to fucking you exactly how you wanted. You reached for him, ready to wrap your legs around his waist, when a yelp clawed out of your throat. You found that you didn’t get to touch his chest, or his cheeks, or his big, broad, beefy shoulders, as you were promptly thrown over the latter of the three body parts and lifted when Joel stood up from the bed. He started carrying you across the room, heedless of the startled, ‘What the FUCK, Miller?’ you’d cried the second he took one step.

Hardwood floors transformed to tile before your eyes, and shortly, you realized you were being brought into your bathroom.

You heard the squeak of some metal knob being turned, then a brief sputter, then a spray of water raining down on your shower floor. You were still being held hostage over Joel’s shoulder, try as you might to bite at his lower back or smack his ass in an attempt to break loose.

He set you down a second later, seemingly unfazed.

“Get in.” He nodded toward the shower.

Before you had a chance to respond, he left. You stood back in disbelief—refusing to go into the shower and let Joel have his win—but just as you opened your mouth to call out and tell him as much, his form slipped back in through the door. Naked, now, and wielding that stupid, goddamned camcorder with a devious glint in his eye.

“Will you—” You held out a defensive hand in front of you, cheeks already heating, “—stop with that?!”

Secretly, the corners of your lips were fighting a smile as Joel drew closer with the camera held up to your face.

“There she is, folks,” he announced, as though speaking to a crowd, or else reading off of a script from the world’s most cheesy porno, “My dirty, dirty girl says she needs a shower—don’t ya, sweet pea?”

It sounded so ridiculous and dumb that neither one of you could keep from laughing. Even as you lifted your middle finger in response, Joel grinned and smacked your ass. Steadied the camera out in front, nudged you closer to the shower, and watched you somewhat begrudgingly obey his orders. Once you’d stripped what little remained on your body, you stepped into the tub.

Add to ‘ridiculous and dumb’ just wildly unsexy as well—who the hell needed a soapy interlude to a sex tape?

Joel Miller, apparently. He constricted his grip on the camera and followed you in, tongue already skimming the backs of his teeth in anticipation. You turned away to step under the shower’s stream, and he wasted no time getting a shot of your derrière. You leaned forward and sighed.

The water worked wonders to get your muscles to loosen some, but still, you were nervous. You could clean up now, stall a little longer, maybe even offer to give Joel head again—but what if he really wanted to eat you out on camera? You couldn’t put off the conversation forever.

Or another minute, it seemed.

You let out a shriek when you felt Joel’s fingers sneak up between your thighs. You hardly knew what he was doing, just folding limply when he spun you around to press your back against the shower wall. Your eyes widened to see him descending your body once more.

“I lied,” Joel said, smirk painted clear across his features, “You’re not dirty—I just wanted to eat your pussy in the shower ‘s’all.”

Chivalry was evidently alive and well in Austin, Texas.

No truer words could have been spoken, and yet, you felt wildly uncomfortable the second Joel’s head dipped between your legs and that big, dumb, handsome face started licking stripes up your sensitive core. You cast a glance to the side and saw the camcorder perched on the sink—just through the open slit in the shower curtain, you could see it pointed directly at you.

You shivered and started to push Joel away.

“Can we maybe just—”

“Sweetie?!”

Joel’s lips tore out of your cunt quicker than a sneeze through a screen door. His eyes were wide.

“Y-Yeah, dad?” you squeaked, tone almost fearful.

“Everything okay in here? I heard ya scream,” your dad returned shortly.

You could only imagine the expression of confusion and distress painting his every lineament in that moment. Probably just barely sticking his head through the crack in the door and blinking anxiously through the steam.

Your dad was caring like that.

He just never knew the right times to show up.

No, there were very few times where you would’ve liked to see him less—apart from that one time you’d sucked Joel’s dick under the table at your dad’s birthday dinner. Your heart was thudding a wild, erratic beat in your chest, and you could only imagine how Joel was feeling. Probably seeing visions of a Size 11 boot being shoved up his ass if his friend happened to slide the shower curtain to the side and see him nose-deep in his daughter’s box.

That would be bad. So very, very bad and probably ten times worse than when Tommy had caught you blowing his brother at the aforementioned birthday party. You just couldn’t seem to catch a break these days.

You sucked in a breath and answered anyway.

“I thought I saw a spider.”

“Really?” You could already sense the embittered tinge to your dad’s voice, harking back to the war he’d once declared on all wolf spiders in the home, “Want me to kill it?”

The next thing you heard was two boots thud on the bathroom floor outside the shower, and you could’ve sworn you saw Joel’s whole soul leap from his body. He shot a frantic look around him, spotted a window above, and seemed to wonder for half a second if he might be able to shimmy his 188-pound frame through a space that probably wasn’t big enough to fit a fat raccoon. He slumped his weight against the shower wall and winced.

“No! I— It wasn’t even a spider. Just a…roach.”

Shortly, Joel’s eyes widened even more and met yours, as if to ask, ‘Why the FUCK would you say that?’

“A roach?!” your dad cried simultaneously.

Apparently, you’d forgotten that any derivative of the word ‘cockroach’ was like a sleeper agent activation phrase for middle-aged fathers who wanted to keep their homes free of all household pests. The look on Joel’s haggard, world-weary face communicated as much to you, and for a second, you remembered that he, too, was built the same way as any other semi-old dude you knew.

Just bigger and beefier and…harder below the belt than you would’ve expected most men around his age to be.

You quickly chided yourself for ogling Joel’s dick at a time like this and replied to your father, shrill, “No!”

Then, slightly more composed, “No, no— I already took it out with some hairspray and told it to fuck off to hell.”

An attempt at humor was the last leg you had to stand on. Fortunately, it worked.

Outside the shower, your dad chuckled, and his footsteps started to shuffle off toward the door.

“Ah. Atta girl,” he beamed, ever the advocate for brutal cockroach killings, “If you see another, just holler, okay?”

“Okay.”

You heard the sound of the bathroom door closing, and you almost fell to the floor. Joel probably would’ve been facedown just as well—fear seeping out of his body along with every last ounce of willpower to stand—had he not made a dive for you as soon as your dad had left.

The force of his push sent you straight into the wall, legs forced to wrap around his waist as he buried his face in your neck.

“Thank fuck,” he breathed.

“You’re welcome,” you murmured, swiping the water out of your eyes with a grimace.

Then, just as you were about to request that Joel lower you back down to the floor and out of the shower’s spray, you felt a nudge between your legs. Luckily not a tongue this time—just Joel, or the tip of his leaking cock. The man below you grinned, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a wash of relief. Could it be?

“I’ll still eat you out if y’want,” he started, though speaking with a little less conviction this time around, “But after all that I, uh—kinda jus’ wanna fuck ya stupid.”

Well thank fuck for fake spiders and cockroaches, too; you’d just averted a dreaded tonguefuck, thanks to that detour.

You’d worry about your pornstar moans and on-camera charisma another time—now you could just sit back and let Joel do all the work while he took you against the wall.

Really, there was no need to concern yourself with anything at all from that point forward. Once you’d given Joel the green light, he was sinking you onto his cock with a grunt and making sure you felt nothing but him. His hands found your hips and held you firmly in place as he rutted into you from below, your own fingers latching onto his shoulders for some much-needed support. Both of you knew that you needed to be extra quiet now—seeing how sound seemed to carry in that tight, tiled space—so Joel snagged your lips in his for a kiss.

He was practically panting in your mouth by the time you started meeting his thrusts. His fingertips slid some and must’ve seared ten perfect crescents into the flesh of your ass as he fucked you into the wall.

“Look so pretty like this,” he whispered in between kisses and short, shallow breaths. His cock parted your insides with an excruciating welt of pleasure, and he hardly even seemed to realize it, “Look so damn pretty takin’ cock.”

Then, lips kicking up in a smile when it seemed he’d remembered something, he added, “Can’t wait to play this tape back home and watch us fuck all over again.”

Again. Again. And again. Shit, you could just see it now.

Your eyes traversed the compact shower space once more to find the video camera—still perched, still live, still perfectly implacable and silent atop the sink as it recorded your every grunt, groan, and shuddering moan. You were nearly as curious to know what Joel’s bare ass looked like rutting into you like this as you were to hear yourself getting railed against the shower wall. Maybe you’d beat this fear of secondhand embarrassment after all.

Maybe.

Joel’s teeth snagged your bottom lip and bit it, lightly.

“Every chance I get, you can bet I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout this…sweet pussy while you’re away,” he said, voice low and occasionally punctured by a groan, “Say one more thing f’me and I’ll…cum every time I watch this part.”

The kinks at the corners of his lips were endearing. You would’ve liked to supply them with just about anything they could’ve wanted, so when they leaned into your ear and murmured just what it was they needed to hear, you only hesitated a second.

Or maybe two or three, because, well…it was risky.

Moaning ‘daddy’ out loud at a time like this? It might get Joel off quick, but it might send your real dad running even faster. You weren’t crazy about the thought of anything that might draw the man’s attention again.

Joel seemed a little less risk-averse than you, notwithstanding the window-leaping fear he’d felt when your dad had rushed in before. Leave it to a criminally horny man to have the memory of a goldfish, though.

At present, Joel was blinking and gawking a bit like one, too, waiting for you to enunciate that one magic word.

You couldn’t deny he made a damn cute desperate sex fiend when he wanted to be. And you needed to cum.

You figured you could cut a deal with him just this once.

“Alright,” you mumbled against the top of his stubbled lip, “Make me cum and I’ll say anything you want, Miller.”

You weren’t sure if it was a chuckle or a strangled moan that jumped up in his throat when Joel squeezed your sides tighter. All you knew was that he was lowering you to the floor in the next instant, spinning you around, and walking you forward, swiftly and with purpose, toward the opposite end of the shower. Right where the crack in the curtain made you most visible to the camcorder.

Joel’s hand snaked around your front and gently eased between your legs. Then, pressing his chest to your back and nudging you to bend just slightly at the waist, he tipped your bodies closer to the camera’s line of vision and stilled. From the LED screen, you could see the ghost of a smile crossing his lips as he shifted his head beside your own. Next, they were kissing across your shoulder, your neck, that sensitive spot behind your ear, and finally the shell of it, brown eyes trained on the camera lens as he murmured to you, “Stay real still.”

You didn’t know if you could. But you tried. And you damn near cried when his fingers started working circles over your clit. Your body was raised on tip-toes, and your hand was bracing the wall as Joel fucked you from behind and made a mess of your wet, writhing body. In no more than three or four strokes, your fears of looking or sounding stupid on camera trickled away with all the rest of the silent, sizzling liquids circling the drain below. Your cheek pressed against Joel’s rougher one, and with the push of each new thrust, you came more unraveled.

When Joel’s hand closed over the front of your throat, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t move—couldn’t move, as the man was holding you still in such a taut, rigid grip.

“What do we say when we get fucked this nice, baby?” Joel whispered in your ear, words almost entirely masked by the sounds from the shower. You still heard it, though.

“T-Thank you,” you stuttered, cockdrunk and faint.

“Thank you, what?”

Your eyes were fluttering closed, but you could feel the smug expression just over your shoulder. You clenched around him and felt him snap his hips ahead even harder.

“Thank you, daddy,” you whimpered.

“Say it again.”

“Thank you, daddy!” you whined, still scared to be too loud.

Joel wasn’t scared. His hand ascended the column of your neck to pinch your chin between his fingers, jerking your head to the right.

To the crack in the curtain. To the camera.

You could’ve cried with how fast he was fucking you now. You opened your eyes and cast a pathetic look to the recorder. Joel made sure you maintained that gaze, too.

“Who’s makin’ ya feel this good?” he seethed, shaking your whole frame with the breakneck pace of his hips.

“You, daddy.”

“Who’s fuckin’ this sweet cunt like no one ever has?”

“You, daddy.”

Joel seemed sated and somehow not fully satisfied at all. Like he was pleased to see you falling apart for him like this, but needed to hear more. Feel more.

He withdrew from you, and you nearly collapsed with the absence of his arms holding you straight.

You pressed a shaky palm to the wall and almost moaned for him to get his ass back over here, you weren’t done, when Joel returned in a second. To your relief, his muscly arms found their way around your front once more, and his clock plunged back inside you, too—only this time, you sensed you were missing something else.

Water.

It wasn’t on your back anymore.

It was fanning between your legs.

Blasting the full force of its stream toward your most sensitive parts as Joel held the shower head up between your thighs. You would’ve jumped back and screamed were it not for his hand clamping tight over your mouth before you could, his lips grazing over your ear again.

“Try it one more time.”

You released a hoarse, muffled squeal into his palm when he lifted the stainless steel to your clit and started rolling his hips. The strokes themselves were relatively gentle, but paired with the ruthless spate of the water, your eyes were nearly rolling to the back of your head at the pulse.

You couldn’t breathe, much less speak. Joel hummed almost apologetically into your hair but didn’t seem sorry at all as he lowered his hand back down to your throat and squeezed. He continued rocking his hips into yours.

“You’ve said it dozens of times before—what’s’a matter?”

Joel Miller knew what the fuck was the matter. He just liked to see you desperate, fucked-out, and teetering on the brink of going feral before he let you reach your peak.

“D-D-D—”

Damn, you sounded stupid.

“D-D-Do you wanna cum? Is that it?” Joel said, mocking your struggle to articulate words as he fucked you.

In spite of your normal no-bullshit attitude toward him, you weren’t in quite the right frame of mind to be talking back to him. You just nodded and moaned, movements constricted by the grip of his fingers on your neck.

“Use those big girl words for me, honey. I know ya can.”

Again, you parted your lips and started to speak, but the oscillation of the water, the brush of his cock, the patently deprecating lilt in Joel’s string of praises, made it nearly impossible. You ended up sputtering again,

“D-D-ah-fuuuckfuckfuck.”

“That ain’t the word I’m looking for.”

But, just as you ventured to say it once more, he cut in,

“Here. Lemme help ya find it.”

Before you could blink, Joel was pistoning his hips against your ass like he had before, only this time, he held the shower head stationary between your legs as you seized and nearly fell to the floor with the force of all the pleasure coursing through you. Your body seemed to act of its own accord, head dropping to Joel’s shoulder and stomach giving an alarmingly fitful pinch as an orgasm tore through you. You couldn’t control how it came or where it went—or how your tongue jumped up and cried,

“Daddy!”

Joel nodded, fucking you through each violent spasm with all the composure and aplomb of a seasoned pro. While your eyes cycled back in the throes of delirium, he held firm and didn’t slow his hips—or the shower head.

You probably could’ve torn a hole through a cinder block if you’d happened to have one between your teeth just then. That was how fervid and merciless the aftershocks of your climax were pulsing through you, exacerbated to the nth degree by the continuity of Joel’s movements. You managed to grab the forearm that was holding the metal nozzle and plead a wild, slightly stifled, “JOEL!”

In truth, you didn’t really want him to stop. It felt too good. You could tell that Joel sensed this, too, because in the instant after that, his lips were sponging kisses to your shoulder, cock working steadily between your walls.

“One more, sweet pea.”

“Joel—”

“And say it louder this time.”

Were you in your right mind, you probably would’ve chided him for being so reckless and stupid about it all. How the fuck could he expect you to scream out loud when your dad was lounging right outside of your room? Did he really think the drone of Cillian Murphy’s smooth, American-ized tone would mask your unbridled moans? Honestly, you couldn’t be sure—and more importantly, you couldn’t be stopped to consider for much longer. With one last trembling vibration from the shower head and a thrust from Joel, you were cumming all over again.

Squeezing his arm, sinking into his sturdy frame, clenching over his cock in what felt like a hundred convulsions, and casting caution aside, you screamed:

“DADDY!”

You might’ve blacked out for a second or two.

Even a minute, as it was, because the next intelligible thing that reached your ears was the thunder of footfalls. And the thrum of Joel’s own hammering heart as he yanked you into his chest and stilled frozen inside you.

The door swung open on its hinges so hard it hit the wall.

“What is it, sweetie?!” your dad yelped.

“I—”

“Are you hurt?”

Just fucked raw by your best friend and shaking, Pops.

You sucked in a breath when Joel nudged your head with his nose and slowly pulled the shower curtain closed to move you out of view of the camera. But it was still there.

Your dad was still there.

The shower walls seemed to be closing in on you, but somehow, you managed, “No, dad, I’m fine! Just…coulda sworn I saw another spider in here, but it was nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

Your dad sounded unconvinced, pacing closer. You could’ve screamed, but Joel was likely holding you too tight to make any such sounds possible in that moment. The two of you recoiled, still stuck chest-to-back, away from the edge of the plastic shower liner when a boot thudded just outside the crack between curtain and wall.

You swallowed. Joel squeezed. Neither of you breathed.

“If it’s another roach, I gotta call the extermin—”

“No! No, it wasn’t a roach. I’m just seein’ things, I think.”

That didn’t seem to make your father feel any better, because he didn’t retreat like he had before. A tense moment fell over the compact, fog-infested room, like the man was chewing away at some thought in his head.

Then he sighed.

“Alright.”

Blissful footsteps away from the shower. You smiled.

Unfortunately, the grin was destined to be short-lived, because in the next instant, you heard boots screech to a halt on the tile. Pivoted, then paused where they stood.

Another gut-wrenching dozen seconds passed, and for one short, chilling moment, you could’ve sworn you felt your father’s gaze sear through the curtain and see you.

But he didn’t see you. Or Joel. Or anyone.

Instead, his gaze was fixed someplace else.

Suddenly, his voice rose above all the awful noises of clamor and panic in your brain, and broke out, loudly,

“What’s my camera doin’ in here?”

#TO THE CREATIVE MINDS WHO BROUGHT THIS MAN’S BUSH TO TELEVISION…..I OWE Y’ALL MY LIFE #it took COURAGE and TENACITY to decide that showing the happy trail was essential to the narrative #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller

3K notes · View notes

mingwrites · 29 days

Text

ateez as incubi

seonghwa ~ in your sleep, you had the most vivid and pleasurable dream of your life. you had a mysterious man between your legs, face buried in your pussy, clit between his lips. upon waking up, the fantasy didn’t end. you stirred hazily, moaning at the imagined sensation in your clit. it became a little too vivid, however, when you felt a long tongue slither inside of you. you looked down, seeing that the man was real, and he was still working your pussy dutifully. you knew you should have felt scared, but somehow the only thing you said was, “don’t stop.” this caused the man to chuckle against you. “don’t you worry, doll,” he said, “you’re so delicious, i’ll never get enough.”

hongjoong ~ when you awoke from your restless sleep, you had tears running down your cheeks. there was a sheen of sweat across your body and a dull throbbing between you legs. at first everything was hazy and confusing, but then you heard your demon’s voice break the silence of the night and it all came together. “what’s wrong, little baby?” he mocked from your bedside where he pervertedly observed your plight. “do you need me so bad? these fingers, this dick? tell me how much you need me.”

yunho ~ you woke up to your walls being stretched open by something ice cold. you realized it didn’t hurt because you were already soaking wet somehow. then you realized the handsome man slowly materializing on top of you, eyes locked on yours, hips sliding carefully closer. you groaned as he filled you up entirely, hands moving with a mind of their own as they reached to hold onto the man’s shoulders. “it’s so big,” you moaned. the man smirked, hips beginning to fuck in and out of you. “you know, i can make it even bigger, if you think this little pussy can handle it.”

yeosang ~ you were grinding against your mattress, a rhythmic flow of moans and whimpers echoing in your room as you dreamt of yeosang. in your dream, he was all over you - tongue down your throat, face in your pussy, and dick pounding into your soaking heat. “there you go,” dream yeosang whispered, “make yourself feel good, my darling.” your eyes slowly opened and for a moment you were utterly disappointed about losing your dream. that was, until you realized yeosang was lying right beside you, urging you on further, “don’t stop, baby, i want to see you make yourself cum.”

san ~ you opened your eyes when you heard a familiar voice filling your bedroom with sweet, soothing melodies. “sannie?” you called, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “good morning, sweetheart,” he smiled cheerfully. you smiled in return, but groaned when you felt a throbbing ache in your clit. “it hurts again,” you said. that pain always seemed to return when san stopped by to visit. “i know, angel,” he cooed, placing his icy cold hands on your thighs and rubbing them gently. “do you need sannie to take care of it for you?”

mingi ~ “get up,” a deep voice commanded, awaking you from your dreams. you shot up and scanned your bedroom for intruders. sure enough, he was there staring down at you, and he was mad. “mingi?” you said softly. “what’s wro-” he cut you off: “where have you been for the last week?” your heart sank. he was really mad. it struck no fear in you, just stirred up butterflies in your stomach. “i-i was on vacation, i’m sorry i forgot to tell you.” mingi scoffed. “vacation… you’ve been naughty for the last time, do you understand?” you couldn’t hold your smile back, thrilled for what mingi might have in store for your punishment.

wooyoung ~ the last thing you expected to see when you first opened your eyes was a dick inches from your face. but that’s what you got, and you weren’t complaining. “suck it,” wooyoung demanded. having just woken up, you were a little slow to register what was going on. getting impatient, wooyoung reached out to stroke your jaw, thumb landing on your chin and gently pushing your mouth open. “i said suck it for me, baby.”

jongho ~ you awoke when you heard someone calling your name in a singsong voice. you looked around your room expecting to see him there, but he wasn’t. “jongho?” you whispered. suddenly, there was a strong hand wrapped around your throat, pressing gently on your airway. you grabbed his wrist, and then he became visible. jongho was floating just above your mattress, staring intensely into your wide eyes. he lowered himself so he was straddling you and strengthened his grip around your neck. “please,” he scoffed, “don’t look so scared. i can smell how wet you are from here.”

640 notes · View notes

harmonysanreads · 2 months

Note

The "darling being able to see Sunday's high-Fe social mask and avoids it" is so funny.

Because Sunday probably ends up thinking that you will be someone who he doesn't have to pretend around, he can be more free around you because you can see through him. I can even see the attraction being platonic at first before turning into something darker.

But because you can see through him, you know that there's something dangerous about him under that ethereal, beautiful appearance. There's no way you're getting yourself involved with that. Sunday simply wants someone he can be real around :')

But you keep on running away from him :')

-💅

#sunday chasing around a reader like that would be so funny #'why is the oak family's spokesperson always trailing that random person and why are they running from him?'#sunday brainrot #tbh i thought many people would request hsr this time but surprise surprise #before any of y'all think i'm procrastinating by posting memes (which i am) i'm writing your requests at my pace<3 #sunday x reader #sunday x you #this is all fun and dandy until trailblaze quest drops 💀#yandere sunday #yandere sunday x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #──⚝💅anon

628 notes · View notes

wherethewolfsbaneblooms · 5 months

Text

Happy holidays from Jarl Dimitrescu!

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #fake breasts #fake body #lady dimitrescu x reader #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #capcom #alcina dimitrescu x reader #jarl dimitrescu #resident Viking #alternate universe #au #shield me #reader insert #muscular women have my heart #happy trail

626 notes · View notes

celestie0 · 1 month

Text

thinking ab riding toji's big meaty thigh until you cum n pass out

his legs are probably jungly asf n so you feel static on your clit from the friction of his hairs n that's what tips you over the edge

#im ovulating btw #therefore i am currently strange #i hc toji is ultra hairy #contrary to many fanarts #he’s got chest hair for days #n dont even get me started on that happy trail #yeah #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut

156 notes · View notes

saltoru · 9 months

Text

suggestive!

gojo, who likes to touch you all over and dump his load inside of you, as a way to claim and protect you. the amount of time you've spent with him and the high level of intimacy you two share has effectively allowed gojo to gradually spread his energy onto you.

although you can't tell, jujutsu sorcerers around the world are able to pick up the scent and residue of gojo's jujutsu. you walking around with gojo's energy is his way to boldly and clearly express his love and power to the world, and everyone knows better than to land even a finger on the person claimed and protected by the strongest.

#you practically reek of gojo!#satoru has a sense of pride when he sees you walking around with his energy trailing behind you #i remember in jjk when they were talking about how curses avoided shibuya bc of gojo's residue...yeah #LOVE HIM #<33 #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo headcanons #suggestive #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojo scenarios

760 notes · View notes

genshingorlsrevengeance · 11 months

Text

(Genshin Impact/GFL/ToCS) Eula, Lumine, Jean, Sara, Lisa, AK-15, AK-12, Duvalie, and Sharon makeout HC's

I'd find a better way to segue into why I'm writing this, but I'll just keep it real with ya'll:

NSFT Implications (obviously)

Eula had not gotten a moment alone with S/O in quite some time. They were both busy, but this transgression would not be forgiven so easily.

What starts off as a simple few kisses slowly turns into something more passionate.

Eula's grip on her S/O starts to tighten as she wraps her hands around their waist and drags them closer.

She makes no mention of her increased heartrate or flushed face, focusing on only S/O's lips.

Pulling back for a moment so they can catch their breaths, she holds their face with both her hands for a brief moment.

(Eula) "You'll not escape this act of revenge, S/O."

She crashes her lips back into theirs far more forcefully as the two tilt their heads to a more comfortable angle.

And when she feels their tongue brush across her mouth, Eula's own tongue meets S/O's.

Although it's not obvious, Eula feels terribly shy throughout their kissing. Hopefully, she didn't come across too strong, but they've made no mention of it so far.

Her worries go unvoiced as the two lay onto the couch and resume their kissing as they hold onto one another.

Lumine happily gave a quick peck to S/O's lips as soon as she returned home.

The two giggled before S/O returned her kiss with another one.

And then another.

Paimon, receiving a quite yucky premonition, decided it'd be best for her to haul ass at her earliest convenience out of the room.

Lumine quickly locked the bedroom door behind her and resumed pressing her mouth into her S/O's, their giggles being replaced with more intense breathing.

(Lumine) "Come closer, please..."

Lumine's arms wrapped around S/O's neck due to her being shorter but had the strength to keep pulling them into her.

Her eyes stay shut and focuses solely on the feeling of S/O's taste as she pushes them gently against the wall.

Her arms slowly slide down to S/O's hands as she makes them hold her even tighter.

Lumine had originally planned to tell S/O how much she missed them, but this probably did the job better than her words.

Sara went stiff upon feeling S/O kiss her cheek.

Her hand instinctively reached the spot they kissed as she began to blush.

S/O kissed her again, this time on the lips and far more slowly, which Sara closed her eyes for.

She felt very strange, not knowing what to do and how to deal with these feelings boiling inside of her. She wasn't used to being so...vulnerable.

When S/O tried to pull away, Sara leaned further in and let the kiss continue for longer. She only pulled away for a second before going in for the kiss again, brushing her hair out the way.

Sara put both her knees around S/O's waist as her hands sat on their shoulders, going for a deeper kiss.

She had no idea what was overtaking her, all Sara knew is that she wanted more.

S/O opened their mouth to say something, but Sara put a finger on her lips before they could.

(Sara) "Don't...Don't say anything. Just stay like this..."

She was never great with her words anyway, it was her actions that did the speaking.

And though her lips were moving, she said not a word after that.

Jean's heart began to pound the moment S/O's hand rested upon her face.

She wasn't quite sure what to do until S/O went in for a kiss. She'd have been more shy, but thankfully, they were at home. Which meant some of her anxiety wasn't present.

Jean didn't resist when S/O continued to kiss her, even when they gently pushed her down further into the couch, she didn't protest.

S/O's kisses were beginning to make her mind blank, and only when she involuntarily moaned into S/O's mouth did she quickly jolt up.

(Jean) "i-I apologize. Did I make things...Um...-"

She was cut off with S/O kissing her again, but when she felt her hands squeezed in reassurance, all her doubts soared away.

Jean let S/O take the lead, slowly getting louder and louder.

She curled her fingers around S/O's, both of them holding onto each other's hands as their tongues explored every crevice of their mouths.

Lisa at first wanted to tease S/O with a slightly longer kiss to see their reaction.

When she saw them lean after her as she tried to pull away, Lisa couldn't help but giggle.

In fact, it got her excited. A dangerous shine in her eyes and a quick lick of her lips was all it took for S/O to shudder.

Lisa's gloved hands grabbed S/O's face as she had them straddle her on the chair.

S/O sucked on her tongue as her hands explored their lower back and reaching under their shirt.

When Lisa felt S/O's hands reach her chest, her fingers jolted them with the tiniest amount of electro, making them yelp.

(Lisa) "My, my. Getting greedy, aren't we? Well, that's not an issue, really.~"

Now, Lisa began taking their tongue into her lips and had them moan deliciously into her own mouth. Every time she used her electro vision to make them louder, she held them even tighter.

If they made this much noise when kissing, then it was going to be a fun night.

Truthfully, 15 had no earthly idea of what she was doing.

She was familiar with kissing, but the way S/O was doing it was far longer and more...strange.

She felt S/O push into her, leaving her wide eyed and mostly confused.

15 didn't hate the feeling, or at least it certainly didn't feel like she did. She just had no idea how to respond.

(AK-15) "Is there something I should be doing in return, S/O?...Kiss back? A-Affirmative."

15 then attempted to kiss back with the same force, but it seemed like S/O was taken by surprise as she suddenly lifted them off the ground and against the wall as she did so.

15 knew this wasn't correct, but S/O increased their kissing in response. Maybe they liked this? Humans were so strange.

And yet...she couldn't resist either. 15 closed her eyes to make S/O more comfortable and followed their lead. They seemed more experienced in this field after all.

12's smug grin seemed to grow when she felt S/O hug her from behind.

She quickly grabbed S/O and pulled them in front of her, their faces inches away from each other.

12 then felt S/O's plush lips against hers, which she hummed in approval as she pushed back.

12's moaned into S/O as her weight slowly pushed into their chest.

Her hands cheekily groped their butt, which made S/O gasp and flush with embarassment.

(AK-12) "Hm? Is something the matter? I figured you'd like that."

Not giving them a chance to respond, her hands continued to hold tightly onto S/O's rear as she began kissing their neck.

12 did like the kissing, but she enjoyed hearing what noises S/O made even more.

Duvalie sighed with a pout as she averted her gaze, allowing S/O to give her a smooch.

She mumbled something under her breath when S/O asked if they could do so again, but made no moves to stop them.

By the fourth time, she had turned to meet their lips and had her eyes closed.

By the sixth time, their kiss was lasting about thirty seconds as her pouty demanour faded.

Now, by the ninth time, her hands were on their back as she put the side of her head against their chest.

(Duvalie) "...Just a few more, got it?"

When S/O gently raised her off the ground and had their hands on her waist, she seemed to completely forgot what she had said.

Duvalie had her hands push their head closer as her tongue wrapped around theirs.

She tried her best to stifle the whimpers coming out of her, but after a few minutes of this wonderful feeling of love, she didn't care anymore.

All she wanted was to feel S/O's love that moment.

Sharon's signature smile didn't budge as S/O kissed her hand. She tilted her head expectedly, waiting for S/O to make another move.

Taking the cue, S/O then kissed Sharon on the lips, to which she kissed back and delicately held both their hands with hers.

Sharon intensified the kiss after a few moments and waited for S/O to take another step.

And she was very pleased when she felt S/O lean in more, their kiss slowly growing more needy.

When S/O pulled back, a thin string of saliva connected their lips, with S/O shyly wiping it off with a free hand.

Sharon took that free hand, and seductively put their index finger into her mouth and sucked it for a moment.

Giggling at their flustered reaction, she pulled their hand out and smirked.

(Sharon) "Are you satisfied with just a kiss? Because I do not believe I am, S/O."

Finally seeing she had their consent, Sharon took the next step herself by having her hands slip up to S/O's back.

Sharon sucked on their neck as her thumb gently entered the side of their mouth and pulled out their tongue.

She swallowed their mouth as her strength lifted them off the ground and into the nearby bed.

Sharon had a mind to taste more than their tongue tonight.

374 notes · View notes

soulessjourney · 5 months

Text

Vengeance Trail

Part 1

Paring: Billy the kid x Reader

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: You and Billy had known each other during your younger years. However, following an argument, you departed to forge your own path, leaving things on bad terms between the two of you. Years later, circumstances led you back, having been recruited to assist John Tunstall. As the war drew nearer, tensions resurfaced between both of you.

Warnings: Some violence, language, Billy again not knowing what to do with himself

A/N: She's not perfect, but I hope this helps feed your hunger for part 2. I did decide to make a google form if you would like to be tagged in any future works of mine, so feel free to fill it out! Join the taglist!

You had been staying at Tunstall's ranch for about a week now, and during this time, contact between you and Billy had been minimal following the events of last week. Part of you felt grateful for this lack of interaction. You didn’t know how to face him anymore, especially after what had transpired that morning. Billy attempted to pull you aside and talk, but you consistently brushed him off, providing any excuse that came to mind. Fortunately, Tunstall kept you occupied with plenty of tasks, effectively keeping you away from Billy.

As you walked through the house, adjusting the gun belt delicately resting on your hips, you closed your eyes momentarily, letting out a small sigh. Upon reopening them, you stepped into the kitchen, where Charlie was busy preparing breakfast. “Good morning, Charlie. You’re here quite early,” you remarked, moving around the kitchen to assist him with the food.

“Well, you know me—I’m an early riser. Tunstall called for a meeting this morning to discuss plans with you and the others, particularly addressing the steps we’re going to take concerning Murphy. He's displeased with the current situation in town, especially the trouble that arose between you and Jesse,” Charlie mentioned, raising a brow.

Inhaling sharply, you chuckled softly. “That wasn’t entirely my fault. Jesse didn’t grasp the concept of boundaries, so I merely reminded him. It's not my fault that it resulted in me punching him in the face,” you grumbled, smiling as Charlie burst into laughter. Over your time here, you and Charlie had grown close, especially after he provided comfort following what happened with Billy. He had become a devoted friend, for which you were immensely grateful. “Let's serve the food to the boys. I assume they’re all in the other room?” Charlie nodded, leading you into the large dining area, where Tunstall, Billy, and George were seated.

Placing the plates in front of the boys, you took a seat next to Charlie, which unfortunately positioned you directly in front of Billy. As everyone began to eat, Tunstall glanced at you from his position at the head of the table. “Y/N, I heard about the incident involving you and Jesse the other day. I must say, I’m somewhat disappointed in your actions, but also oddly proud,” he remarked, and you beamed, noting the confused expression Billy shot your way.

“Well, as I mentioned to Charlie, Jesse simply needed a gentle reminder about boundaries, and you know I don’t resort to certain measures unless absolutely necessary, Mr. Tunstall.” You grinned, earning an approving nod from Tunstall and a thumbs-up from George. “But I do promise to be more mindful of my conduct from now on and steer clear of any further confrontations.” You offered the boys a soft smile. Tunstall nodded before delving into detailed discussions about what to expect in the coming days and assigning tasks to each of you.

“Finally, Billy and Y/N, I’m teaming you both up. I want the two of you in town with Charlie. Whatever it is—shopping or sitting in the saloon—I want the three of you to keep an ear on Murphy’s men,” Tunstall instructed. Charlie nodded and glanced between you and Billy. “I don’t care about your history. You both need to find common ground. I won’t tolerate your feud jeopardizing our efforts. You both have skills, and together, you can help achieve our goals.” Tunstall’s stern gaze was fixed on both you and Billy.

You nodded in agreement before Billy could interject. “Certainly, Mr. Tunstall. I’m sure Billy and I can find common ground. I wouldn’t want any of this to jeopardize our hard work,” you smiled before standing. Gathering the empty dishes, you made your way to the kitchen, tidying up the room. Someone entered, prompting a sigh. “I know, Charlie, I’ll sort things out with Billy. I don’t need a lecture,” you grumbled, looking up only to freeze in your tracks.

“Well, I hope you and I can reach an understanding,” Billy said, offering a small smile. “Now that I have you here, I really want to discuss what happened between us.” Dismissing him, you wiped your hands on your black trousers and pushed past Billy.

“There’s nothing to discuss, Billy. It was a mistake, and it shouldn’t have happened,” you stated, arranging the cans on the shelf. “Finding common ground means civil conversation, not me returning to you. I allowed myself to trust you again, even though I vowed I wouldn’t, and you took advantage of it,” you muttered, fiddling with a can in your hands. “I can’t forgive you for that, not after what you did.” Slamming the can down, you flung the door open and walked out, biting your lip.

Billy followed and grabbed your arm, turning you towards him. “Stop walking away, Y/N, and let me explain, please.” His eyes held a mix of sadness and fear. Sighing, you tilted your head back, jaw clenched. Meeting his gaze, you raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to speak.

“I want to be with you. Everything I said that night was genuine. I was just scared—I thought acknowledging our connection would make me vulnerable, especially with Murphy’s situation. I thought saying it was a mistake would protect you somehow,” he explained, his eyes softening more than you thought possible. He looked vulnerable, and all you wanted was to hold him close.

“You hurt me, Billy. I was willing to risk everything and admit feelings I’ve had since we were kids. Waking up next to you was all I wanted. I still care about you deeply, but you hurt me,” tears welled up in your eyes, and he cupped your face in his hands, wiping away any tears that fell.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was foolish, and I didn’t know what I was doing. I want you with me more than anything. Let me make it up to you and prove my dedication to you,” he whispered, receiving a small nod from you in response. With that, he leaned in and kissed you.

---

You, Billy, and Charlie strolled through town, observing kids running about and families engaging in various activities while vendors attempted to sell their wares. Billy walked to your left, his arm occasionally brushing against yours as you scanned the surroundings. Meeting his gaze, you offered a slight smile, which was reciprocated as he gently clasped your hand, giving it a tender squeeze.

“Why don’t we split up? We can cover more ground without drawing attention to ourselves. Y/N, you can wander the streets and listen in on conversations. We know Murphy’s men will be around to keep things in check. I'll hang around the Saloon and see what I can gather. Charlie, you know where you're needed,” Billy suggested, glancing between both of you. Charlie nodded, turning on his heel and departing. Before you could step away, Billy tightened his grip on your hand, causing your gaze to meet his.

“Please be cautious. If you and Jesse had a confrontation, he won’t take it lightly and might come after you. He’s dangerous, Y/N. I don’t want to see you hurt,” he murmured softly.

Smiling reassuringly, you reached up, gently caressing his cheek. “I won’t let him near me. Besides, I can hold my ground. That punch was just a warning. Trust me, Cowboy,” you grinned, leaning in to tenderly press your lips against his. Billy reciprocated before pulling back, smiling down at you.

Brushing a stray hair from your eyes, he leaned down, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I trust you. Go, but if anything goes wrong, find me. You know where I’ll be,” he murmured against your forehead. Stepping back, you squeezed his hand before navigating through the crowd. You could sense his watchful gaze on your back as you walked away—a small yet tender gesture.

Walking through the bustling crowd, a smile graced your lips as you observed a younger girl being playfully chased by a boy around her age. It brought back memories of you and Billy in your younger days, his playful pursuit as the self-proclaimed notorious outlaw, countered by your claim to that title. Chuckling to yourself, those innocent words seemed ironically true now. You and Billy had become the very outlaws you once playfully pretended to be, but this time, it was no game. Bounties were placed on your heads, and life had become a constant vigil, always watching over your shoulder.

Billy feared losing you, while you feared losing yourself in this harsh existence. You understood that while bounties hung over you, a normal life remained out of reach. The fear of walking an irreversible path haunted you, and it seemed like the only direction you were heading. Working for Tunstall had been your ticket out of this harrowing path, but as time passed, freedom appeared more elusive.

Lost in contemplation, you collided with someone, jolting you out of your reverie. Meeting the person's eyes, your gaze hardened upon recognizing Jesse. “Ah, Sadie Bennet, the girl who thought she could throw a punch and get away with it,” Jesse sneered, a sly smile creeping onto his lips.

Arms crossed, you stood firm. “What do you want, Jesse? Another reminder of our last encounter? Be grateful I didn’t reveal the full extent of what you did, or they wouldn’t just be after Murphy—they’d be after you too,” you spat, grimacing as Jesse tightly gripped your wrist.

“Oh, come on, Sadie. We had quite the time together. Last I recall, you warmed my bed,” Jesse taunted, causing you to scoff, wrenching your wrist free from his grasp. “Don’t deny it. You’re not angry about my advances. We shared quite a few unforgettable moments not long ago. But does your dear Billy know the truth about us?”

“Billy doesn’t know because nothing happened, Jesse. You took advantage of my vulnerability when I was ill. And let me remind you, I’m not yours to claim whenever you wish. I mean it, Jesse. Lay a hand on me again, and it’ll be a bullet in your head,” you warned, fixing him with a steely glare. Jesse let out a derisive laugh, taking a step back, nodding before addressing you.

Bending down, Jesse whispered in your ear, “Fine, Sadie. I'll behave, only because I know what you’re capable of. But I’ve got my eye on you. Step out of line, and I’ll spill everything to Billy and end you. Watch yourself, Ms. Bennet. You’re on thin ice.” He straightened, tipping his hat in your direction before sauntering away. Unable to suppress a snarl, you watched him depart, feeling the anger simmering within.

Your attention snapped to Charlie as he rounded the corner, his raised brows signaling his curiosity as he approached you. “Should I ask what that was all about?” he inquired, his gaze scrutinizing your every move as you shifted uncomfortably on your feet. Scanning your surroundings, you pondered how you would tell him, feeling his penetrating stare only intensify your unease. "Was there something between you and Jesse before Lincoln County?” he prodded, pressing for an answer.

Sighing, you dropped your arms to your sides and nodded. “Yes, but I wouldn’t really call it something happening. A few months prior to your invitation to Lincoln County, Jesse and his crew found me by the river. I’d fallen ill after being alone for some time. They took me back to their camp and nursed me back to health. Jesse misconstrued that as me owing him something and tried to pursue a relationship. Unfortunately, that led to him trying to share my bed one night. Nothing occurred, but he certainly aimed to leave that impression. I woke up the next morning and left. Clearly, he's still bitter about it and insists I owe him something, which I don’t,” you explained, shooting a glare in the direction Jesse had walked off in.

Charlie nodded along with your explanation, offering a gentle pat on your shoulder. “I suppose that's why you didn’t tell Billy about Jesse, as you mentioned. Billy's a good lad, but he sometimes doesn’t think rationally. I get why you've refrained from telling him. But considering whatever's between you two, don’t you think it’s best to inform him so he doesn't find out through the grapevine?” Charlie suggested, prompting you to focus on his words. He had a valid point; it would be wiser to tell the truth about Jesse to Billy before Jesse could manipulate his thoughts.

“You make a good point. Let's head back to the saloon. I didn’t catch much while walking, so we can all just unwind this evening, have a drink, and talk. It’s been too long since we’ve sat down for a relaxed conversation,” you beamed, beginning to move toward the Saloon with Charlie beside you. You knew you had to tell Billy, but the timing needed to be right. You didn’t want him constantly fretting about your safety concerning Jesse, especially with the ongoing tension between Tunstall and Murphy.

---

As both of you arrived, Billy emerged from the building, adjusting his suspenders, his eyes brightening upon seeing you. He nodded toward Charlie before glancing between both of you. “Did you find anything while you were out?” he inquired, reaching up to gently caress your arm. Charlie shook his head, diverting his gaze to you. You sensed his expectation for an explanation, but you couldn't bring yourself to disclose the truth just yet.

“Nothing much, just people expressing discontent with Murphy’s power,” you shrugged, noting the disappointment in Charlie’s eyes as he shot you a disapproving look. It felt wrong to withhold the truth about your encounter with Jesse, but revealing it to Billy without instigating him to pursue Jesse seemed daunting. “Let’s head back. We can update Tunstall on whatever little information we gathered tonight. Even though it was minimal, he’d like to be informed,” you suggested, glancing at the boys.

Billy's attention shifted over your shoulder toward the saloon behind you. “Just a moment,” he uttered, walking past you toward the Saloon. Observing his movements closely, Charlie moved to stand beside you. You noticed a carriage parked nearby. Shortly after Billy positioned himself against the saloon pillar, the door opened, and two women stepped out. One was older, while the other, quite beautiful, caught your eye. Glancing at Charlie for clarification, he shrugged and kept his focus on Billy. “Señorita Del Tobosco,” he spoke up.

Your eyebrows shot up at his nervous tone and fidgeting. “Who is she?” you asked Charlie in a hushed tone as the two conversed in Spanish.

“Her name is Dulcinea del Tobosco. She belongs to one of Mexico’s wealthiest families. Billy spotted her some time ago, around the time of your fallout, and seemed intrigued,” Charlie explained quietly, observing your reaction. You felt a twinge of discomfort at Charlie’s revelation and Billy’s interest. As they continued their conversation, Dulcinea’s confident demeanor exuded elegance in her burnt orange dress, holding an envelope as she raised her chin in Billy’s direction, almost challenging him.

Billy adjusted his posture, resting his arm on his holstered pistol. The interaction made you uneasy, and you were determined to understand Billy's sudden interest. “Who are you?” Dulcinea inquired, her gaze fixed on him, issuing an unspoken challenge.

“I’m Billy,” he replied, a sudden surge of confidence in his tone. “I just wanted to introduce myself.” You couldn’t help but scoff quietly, prompting Charlie to grasp your wrist and pull you away. Billy wasn't one to introduce himself casually, especially to other women, unless he had an ulterior motive.

Halting Charlie's attempt to pull you away, you shifted your stance, determined to catch the remainder of their conversation. “That’s hardly a reason to ambush someone in the street,” she remarked, prompting an eye-roll from you. Billy's approach hardly qualified as an ambush, and her overbearing confidence grated on your nerves. Deciding you'd heard enough, you pivoted on your heel, intending to leave, only to halt at her next question. “Do you have another motive?” she probed, causing your mind to race. Glancing over your shoulder at Billy, you hoped his response wouldn’t push you over the edge.

Billy remained silent for a moment, seemingly contemplating his next words to her. “I’d like to see you again,” he eventually stated. Anger surged within you at his words. Just hours ago, Billy had been pleading with you to comprehend his hesitation, yet here he was, asking to meet another woman as if the intimacy he shared with you earlier meant nothing. Turning to Charlie, you muttered about leaving, then mounted your horse, riding back to Tunstall's residence, refusing to listen to any further conversation.

---

That evening, you lay on your bed, gazing at the ceiling, lost in thought, replaying the recent hours in your mind. Between Jesse's confrontation in the street and Billy's interest in another woman, you wished you could simply vanish. Tunstall and the others had given you space, allowing you to return upstairs without a word, slamming your door shut behind you upon entering your room. Toying with the necklace around your neck, you rested an arm behind your head before dropping the locket onto your chest. Sitting up, you swung your legs over the bed's edge, running your fingers through your hair, when the door behind you creaked open.

"I was wondering where you went off to. Charlie said you left in a hurry," Billy spoke quietly from behind, gently closing the door.

Releasing a sarcastic laugh, you kept your back turned, tilting your head back to compose yourself. "Yeah, well, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stand there as you asked for the time of another woman," you mumbled, your gaze fixated on the painting in front of you. Part of you recognized the hypocrisy of being upset with Billy when you were keeping something from him, but this felt different.

Billy remained silent for a moment before walking toward the bed. "It’s not what you think. I just want to gather information from her about her family. They’re powerful, Y/N, that kind of influence could be useful in the future, even you can’t deny that," he reasoned, prompting a scoff from you as you stood and turned to face him.

"That’s not believable, Billy. No man is that nervous to talk to a woman just to know about her family. You may be good at manipulating people, but you’re not that skilled of an actor to fool someone like you're trying to do now. Charlie mentioned your sudden interest in her, and how you tend to look for her whenever you’re in town," you challenged, even though the last part was an exaggeration, hoping to catch him in a lie. His avoidance confirmed your suspicions.

"Okay, you're not far off. She has a certain allure, and I want to uncover it," he admitted, reaching out to you. "I promise there are no romantic feelings involved."

Slapping his hand away, you moved around the bed, standing before him, projecting confidence. "Well, Billy, don’t expect me to stick around while you play games," you asserted, meeting his gaze firmly.

Billy nodded, trying to caress your cheek. "Then come with us. She wants to go riding in a few days. Why don’t you join us? Perhaps you’ll understand what I’m trying to do," he suggested, pressing his forehead against yours. Suppressing the urge to push him away and confront him further, you hesitated, unsure if his words were sincere or just another facade.

You relented, placing your hands on his chest. "Fine, I’ll come along, but remember, Billy, if you’re deceiving me, I won’t hesitate to throw you off a nearby cliff," you grumbled, drawing a soft chuckle from him, noting the rapid pulse under your hand.

Leaning down, Billy pressed his lips against yours, and foolishly, you reciprocated, succumbing to your desires. "I promise, you're the only one for me," he whispered after breaking the kiss. You responded with a small nod, pulling him closer. You felt young and naive, already regretting trusting his reassurances.

Tags: @andwhatofthelight @sabrinasbd @snowlandstop @obsesseddd @quicksilversg1rl @runningfrom2am @weeeoosworld

#Spotify #billy the kid #billy the kid fanfic #tom blyth x reader #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #Billy the kid #tom blyth #billy the kid fanfiction #tom blyth fanfiction #william bonney #billy the kid 2022 #william h bonney x reader #tom blyth!billy the kid #vengeance trail

303 notes · View notes

just-a-torn-up-masterpiece · 2 months

Text

beefy natasha with a happy trail, send tweet.

#natasha romanoff #the thought has me barking #a gal without a happy trail is like an angel without wings #if u see me humping the air no u didn’t x #marvel #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader

100 notes · View notes

moondust-writes · 1 year

Text

͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ [dating headcanons] ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ .ೃ࿐ shadow the hedgehog ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･safe for work; romantic

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ one thing that should be clear is that this hedgehog is traumatized - i mean, someone he was close to died, and then he almost died at the end of Sonic Adventures 2 (did die, even, until the fandom decided they wanted Shadow to be a returning character). a relationship isn't going to be easy

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the first hurdle, would be befriending him. unlike others (i.e. team sonic), he would keep anyone at an arms length, try to avoid becoming attached - and immediately pulling away as soon as he notices any attachment ╰┈➤ this is how he is with everyone; he used to be open and less guarded with others, like Rouge and Omega, though his anxious attachment style later caused him to pull back - this is unavoidable, and questioning him about it will only cause it to worsen for a week or so

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ you'd have to be the one to take the first step when it comes to starting a friendship, be it as small as just sitting in the same area doing your own thing, or even initiating a conversation despite the 'dont talk to me' energy he often radiates - it'd be like talking to a wall, so hopefully you can keep up a one sided conversation

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ you'll know that he'll start to consider you to at least be an acquaintance when he starts to allow himself to be in your presence longer than usual, and even give brief responses to whatever it is you had been talking about. even if it is just as small as a hum of acknowledgement; when he considers you to be a friend? he'll start to seek you out every now and again when he has the free time to do so, and even engage in a proper conversation ╰┈➤ it is during the friendship that he begins to catch feelings; there will be moments of vulnerability, of openness. only when he realizes he doesn't mind it when you hug him or hold his hand to drag him somewhere that he will realize he is becoming attached and pull away

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the confession is far from planned - more so accidental. but either way, he is the first to confess. it wasn't one of his smoothest moments, 'embarrassing,' more like it; but it was sweet, endearing ╰┈➤ you or his friends would have confronted him about the sudden distance, and while he'd try to avoid it, the pain from the single question of 'did i do something wrong?' would hurt too much; he had to let you know it wasn't you! even if it would damage his pride to admit that he, the ultimate lifeform, was scared and didn't know what these feelings meant(it was adorable, to see him flushed red as he put his feelings into words, the shade darkening as you explained that what he described was love - and that it was okay to be scared)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the start of the relationship was, well, rough. but! shadow is determined to show that he is serious about you! due to what happened to maria, he will be protective - even if you can fend for yourself. some firm boundaries and reassurance can fix this; he'll get better over time

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pet names aren't something shadow deems to be necessary, so he'll typically just use your name or some nickname derived from it. if you express your love for them, though, he may just use 'honeydew' or 'darling' ╰┈➤ pet names won't be used in public on his end though, he views them as intimate things for only you to hear him call you - they're just for you and only you

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ personally, i think he's more shy when it comes to PDA, but all for it! you just won't often catch him being the one to initiate it unless he sees someone eyeing you or something is going on nearby. his default is holding your hand, but if he is a little bit more bold, he may just wrap his arm around your shoulder

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ not much of a cuddlebug, but he adores giving fleeting touches behind closed doors or when there is a moment alone with you. typically its a short peck on the lips, or a simple hug. at night, though, he will gladly cuddle, typically being the big spoon

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ shadow can have nightmares, though it isn't often that it occurs. on these nights, please let him bury his face in your chest while you groom his quills. it helps so much, and the purrs you get in return are absolutely precious

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ all in all, he would do anything for you and be vulnerable just for you; with help, he might even just be able to let himself joke around and have fun with his friends like he used to <3

#moondust trail #headcanons #sonic x reader #shadow the hedgehog x reader

1K notes · View notes

tusunatsuna · 1 year

Text

M!TRAILBLAZER X READER SMUT

(I wrote this because no one else did.)

(≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Oh your skin is so soft.

He just wants to bite it every god damn time.

Everything about you had made him crazy. The way you part your hair, the way you look at him, the way you tease him Infront of DanHeng and March.. not the mention, the way you send him secret picturs of yourself when he was hanging out with the others. It's so nerve wracking yet so attractive.

He knows you know that he loves it.

He knows.

He really does.

But he didn't try to approach you nor confront you about it.

He knows you'd like to fuck with him(or fuck him) but he chooses not to allow you to do it.

He loves teasing you.

Although, this time, it's a special occasion.

Now He finally gets to have you, under him. You never looked more beautiful. The rays of moonlight peaking through the window, shining on your sweaty fucked up face nicely. "Say something, my beloved." He buries his face inside the crook of your neck, marking you as he pulls your body closer to his. How can you think when his cock is inside you? Every little inch of it was practically shaping your insides. You can't help but let out a small whimper as his warm breath brushed against your neck and ears. It was so overwhelming, you're so so close even tho he's not moving at all.

He grins mischievously at you, just stuffing you with his fat cock has already gotten you on edge. What would happen if he started pounding inside you?

#trailblazer #trail blazers #hsr x you #hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail mc #hsr mc #mc #x reader smut #hsr smut

483 notes · View notes

ceruleancattail · 10 months

Text

Encounter

Malleus x bard reader

Emerald blades of grass sway with the breeze, rustling as you take a seat. The scent of fresh dew was strong, clinging to the fabric of your clothes. A lively sort of scent, that brought to mind endless fields of greenery stretching off into the horizon.

Not a tiny patch of grass in the middle of these dreary woods. Trunks of deep, dark brown towered above your form, shrouding you in shadow. Garbled branches snaked across the sky, crooked twigs swaying ever so slightly. Mocking you, the little creature that was confined to the ground. Trudging through mud and dirt, stumbling through the darkness.

Burly roots peeled through the debris occasionally, catching your feet within. You’ve tripped over them more then once. Your elbows still stung from the impact, skin throbbing a bright red.

You swear, these trees have it out for you.

Rarely would a human venture into their depths, much less a bard.

Your instrument was slung over your shoulder, it’s wooden body nestled against the curve of your spine. Every step you take, it smacked the small of your back. In sync with your heartbeat, a steady thump, thump, thump.

A rhythm. Quite a pleasant one, honestly. Perhaps you’ll use it in a hymn. A hymn of adventure, a tale of trepidation and curiosity.

You hum softly, building a little melody. A simple song, echoing through these dark, damp woods. A song bird’s chirp, penertrating sharp and clear through the air.

Hands reaching for your back, you slide your instrument into your hands. Fingers dancing on the fretboard, pressing into those slender, ivory white strings. They vibrate with every strum, singing every chord with ease.

Plopping under a rather shady tree, you began to sing. Manipulating every note, weaving them into your voice. Chords waxing and waning like a candle’s flame, dancing to the tune that flowed through your lips.

For awhile, the forest fell silent as you weaved a tune through the breeze. Singing your lungs out for every leaf, every twig…. For anyone, honestly.

Anyone who would listen.

A sharp snap. Your blood froze, ice prickling through your veins. Instrument clutched tightly in your hands, you whipped around with it held aloft. A sorry excuse of an actual weapon, but it’ll do.

Eyes of emerald gazed into yours. They were flaked with gold, glittering in the light. Much like buried gold, peeking through the dirt. Dilated pupils of ebony blinked slowly, much like a feline’s.

Looking you over slowly, in an attempt to decide where you stand:

Friend or Foe.

Ebony horns dipped into the blackness of the night, sprouted from his head. His hair was long, slipping down his shoulders with all the glossiness of a raven’s feather.

Robes drape his form, cutting a rather majestic figure among all these trees.

Branches dipped into a sober bow, as if paying their respects. Leaves fell before his feet, a carpet rolled out in his honour.

He takes a step towards you, a tail swaying behind. Filled with scales, they twinkled seductively, pinpricks of stars dotted onto his skin. A galaxy, confided into a person.

Tilting his head ever so slightly, he regards you with a certain curiosity. With the prying eyes of a child… well, almost. There was a cool undertone of amusement layered underneath that piercing gaze.

A moment of silence passed in between both of you. The tension a wall, standing strong.

Before the grass rustled. This majestic, striking figure of a being sat down. Crossing his lap underneath him, he settles down on the ground, eyes level with yours.

“It’s been… many years since I’ve heard music, much less a tune as lively as yours.”

He speaks, a deep baritone. A smooth sound, as rich as the finest wine. The corners of his lips twitched, slipping up into a small smile. A smile of appreciation.

“Thank you, child of man.”

Pursing your lips, you lower your instrument, its weight on your lap once more. Gulping back a mouthful of saliva, you had to force your tongue to move, words trembling in your throat.

“It’s not a problem. I fear I have disturbed your solace with my voice.”

A deep chuckle, echoing through the woods.

“You have an enchanting voice, for a child of man. Fear not, I have never been more pleased.”

Fidgeting with your strings, you ask:

“Forgive my disrespect, but what… what are you?”

Resting his cheek on his palm, he laughs again.

“Perhaps a better question would be, ‘who are you?’

However, I’ll humour you. I am Malleus Draconia. Your kind would call me a… dragon.

Our true name has been lost in your tongue, unfortunately.”

“That’s a pity.”

A spark of surprise flashes in his eyes, before Malleus leans closer, intrigued by your answer.

“A pity? Alas, but most things are forgotten with time. Only I remain in the end.”

A beat, before you speak. A timid voice, tinged with concern.

“Are you lonely?”

A sigh, soft as a feather. Yet the weight it carried rested heavy on your heart.

“Always, child of man. Always and forever.”

Fingers closing around the fretboard, you lift your instrument up. Pulling it closer to your chest, arm slung over it. Your fingers rest over the strings, nails brushing against every string.

“Would you like me to play another song?”

A quizzical expression spread across Malleus’ face.

“Is that an attempt to console me?”

You shrug, a fluid motion.

“I can’t console you for the eternity you’ll live. But I can keep you company. Play a song or two.

That way, even if it’s just for a moment, you won’t be lonely, right?”

Malleus stares at you, eyes widened in surprise. He’s met countless beings throughout his life. Most of them have comforted him with empty promises, swearing that they’ll follow him forever.

They said he’ll never ever be lonely ever again.

They never stay. Malleus’ rather used to watching the light flicker out from their eyes, a life extinguished. He never understood where these empty words came from.

A love for him? A denial of a person’s own limits? A fear of death?

He doesn’t know. Perhaps he’ll never understand.

However, you were very… aware of your own mortality. The honesty was rather refreshing, after decades of promises going up in smoke.

A smile slips onto his lips. A small one, but a happy one, nonetheless.

“Very well, child of man.

Sing for me.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Malleus Draconia #Malleus Draconia x reader #Malleus x reader #Malleus #lucky potion🔷#GODS I’M FINALLY FINISHED WHAT THE HECK #this took so damn long to write but #SUPRISEEEEE #it’s the outcome of the little poll!!!!!!!#here’s a bonus little fic for the people who read the tags #his hands caress yours #fingers trailing over your palm #gently gliding over the callouses on your fingertips #‘it’s rough.’ he mutters #brows creased with worry #you attempt to yank your hand back #suddenly sheepish #‘it’s tha hand of a musician’ you retort #cradling your palm closer to your chest #‘nothing great ever came without sacrifice’#malleus sighs #‘I see the truth in that… yet I don’t fancy seeing you in pain.’#plucking a scale from his tail malleus hands it to you #‘perhaps a pick would assist. consider it a gift…. my dear bard.’

295 notes · View notes

gothghostiie · 6 days

Note

Alejandro is hairy. So much hair. Hairy chest. Hairy arms. Hairy legs. Def has a happy trail. And don't forget the hair downstairs ❤

Send tweet

ale is so fucking hairy. he doesn't care to shave unless his partner really wants it, otherwise its welcome to the jungle baby.

#i need to lick his happy trail #gothghostiie #ask ghostiie #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty #alejandro vargas #alejandro cod #cod alejandro #alejandro vargas x reader #colonel alejandro vargas

47 notes · View notes

toiletwipes · 7 months

Text

Whenever I'm Alone (With You) | clinic!wilbur

MOUTH SO SWEETLY TELLING LIES — PART TWO

5k words. / [Two months after the festival you're left in the dust of what to do with yourself when you've been ghosted by a really cute guy. Depression hits and it's not a good mix.] [watch out for self-deprecation, slight suicidal ideation, kind of an unhealthy relationship brewing out of pain]

Part 1 — Masterlist

fic title from Lovesong by The Cure but the chapter title is from Cut by The Cure

thank you @drop-of-void for proof-reading!! and i'm tagging some lovely folks now. @sleeby-anon @loversj0y @struggling-with-delia @l0veb0mb1ng @boiled-onionrings

xxxx

After the first month, it’d been easy to slip into the same old routine. Wake up too early, stare at the wall until your alarm goes off, manage either the longest shower ever or brush your teeth, then go to work and come home exhausted. Maybe eat. Stare at the wall a little more, go to bed. Music was optional.

And Seff wasn’t having it after the second.

“If men do this to you, then they don’t deserve you.” You grunted, listening to him ramble as you sat on the couch, arms feeling like noodles as you fold towels that sat on your bed a little too long, with Seff mopping your floor, the rugs rolled up and against the wall. The room smelt like fabuloso. “I’m serious. They don’t get to have a great night, express that they want to get to know you more, exchange numbers and then do jackshit with it.” He stops mopping, opting to lean against the length of it, eyes staring straight at you. You don’t make contact.

“Well it’s not up to me what they do, remember?” It’s hard not to be mean about this, you’re all too aware that when men do this, it’s not your fault. (...Entirely.)

“Vividly.” He says, before finishing up the last corner and putting the mop back in the bucket and putting it off by the laundry room. When he joins you, you’re halfway done. He helps you with the rest of the towels, getting you off the couch and forcing you to tuck the towels into the cabinets. When you get back almost ten minutes later, you find the living room fan turned on high and the floor drying faster, Seff himself back on the couch with gummy candy. He offers some to you when you join him on the couch. You dig a hand into the bag and pop them into your mouth, chewing on them as you let the cleanliness of the place wash over you.

“Doing anything feels like I��m moving through- through a thick goo, like tar. And I can’t get out of it.” The words come out only a smidge louder than a whisper but it was so loud between the two of you. Seff doesn’t say anything. So you continue. “It wasn’t… just him. It was all of those guys. Like, how could all of them have one night and change their mind so fast, like it wasn’t real for any of them.” But it was him. He was the last straw. He made the choice to come up to you and spend the last of the festival with you, it was him that wanted your number. It was all him and then- and then- tears prick your eyes again.

And it was him again, ghosting you, just like the others. They were so different from each other, how could they all do the same thing? There had to be a reason and the only logical one is that it was you. They regretted what they did, what they said, and they regret you.

You feel the hazy feeling wash over you, the tar-like substance coating your limbs and mind as Seff hums, wrapping an arm around you. He knew you so well, you wondered why he stayed. “They’re jackasses, don’t forget that, no matter how nice they were or how they smiled at you, they decided that being a coward was easier, it had nothing to do with you.” You nod, not really listening… but still, it’s a little nice to hear the words. Even if they didn’t stick like they should’ve.

He rubs your shoulder, offering you more candy and letting it sit in his lap when you decline. “Here, let’s finish up cleaning and then you hop in the shower. Vick wants you over for dinner tonight, she’s making your favorite, okay?” You nod, Vick was always so nice and sweet to you, snarky towards her husband. And on good days it didn’t hurt to be around them, to see them in love like crazy people.

“How’d you do it?” You don’t recognize the words coming out of your mouth, foreign and sickly tasting. He hums, sighing as he breathes out while he looks around the apartment.

“How’d I do what?” He asks.

“How’d you know it was her, I mean, you guys moved so fast, how did you- just- how?” Words failed you and you wanted answers but even on autopilot, you’re unsure of what you want to know. Of what you want to hear.

Silence grows as he mulls over the answer. Then he starts standing, getting you up on your feet with him, speaking as he pushes you to the shower, “I’ll tell you when you’re done, how about that?” He smiles as you reach the middle of the tiled bathroom floor, turning to him helplessly as you shiver.

He’s about to close the door when you stop him, reaching out with a hand. He stands there, unmoving, eyes moving up to meet yours and you gulp.

“Thanks.”

He smiles and he shuts the door with a click.

You undress, making no attempts to look at the mirror as you step into the shower, closing the curtains. The water hits your scalp and you try to picture your ails being washed away with the oils in your hair. You try to follow your old routine as best as you can but when thirty minutes pass and all you have to show for it is clean hair and nothing else, you turn the shower off. You’ll take a win where you can. You don’t entirely know it’s been thirty minutes to be fair, but when the water turns from hot to cold you can take the hint it’s time to get out.

Getting dressed and drying your hair with a shirt, you exit your room to find Seff on the couch, finishing the bag of gummy candy off. The corner of your lips twitch up as you toss the shirt at his head, snorting when he shouts and somehow falls onto the ground. “And after all that I’ve done for you!” He says as he wrenches the shirt off his head, throwing it right back at you. “I’ve rolled the rugs out AND I’ve got your bag and keys, and this is the thanks I get?!” A small smile plays on your face, wrapping your arm around his neck in a limp headlock as he continues to mumble about how unfair it was.

“Come on, you big baby, let’s get you back home to Vick,” and at the mention of his wife, he perks right up, handing your things over as he rushes to the door. You follow after him but as you lock the bottom lock, you hear a banging on your window. Your head snaps to the living room, just barely catching the dimmed blue sky of the night, nothing to be seen in the glass. You’d check it out but then you hear Seff call for your name. Turning away, you finish locking your door, following your best friend down the stairs and breathing in and out as your thoughts try to race ahead of you. Despite the genuine fear of a burglar… you couldn’t be bothered to worry too hard about it. One, there wasn’t a thing you could do now, pulling the seat belt over you as Seff started the engine. Two, and you’re sure it’s a bad thought but your mental health has never been known to be particularly okay, but you almost hope there’s somebody waiting for you. Whether they’d kill you immediately or to kidnap you, you’re clueless to which you want more, both are fine options. Maybe torture. Maybe you’d come out of this haze your mind seems to be stuck in.

You hardly notice the car parking, only when the door unlocks and you, automatically, take your seat belt off, opening the door and watching with blinking eyes as Vick, the beautiful woman she is, finds the two of you and hugs both at the same time. It’s a nice hug. Her soap smells nice. Makes you feel sleepy again.

Dinner is filled with laughs and despite your small fears, she doesn’t bring up Wilbur and she doesn’t bring up anybody and she doesn’t say that you deserve better. She just finds ways to make you laugh, make you gasp with the drama she’s heard, helps you with setting the table as Seff finishes off the toasted bread.

Wine is poured in your glass and Vick’s, juice for Seff. You quirk an eyebrow at him and he raises both in return, “what?” he asks as he lifts the fancy glass to his nose, swirling the liquid and then smelling it, with a satisfied nod.

“Pregnant?” He hangs his head in shame as Vick snorts, getting the salt and pepper from the kitchen.

“We wanted to be sure it was hers,” he sends a wink your way before beaming at Vick, accepting the bowl being passed for bread.

The night passes fast and before you can soak the warmth and happiness in for the long run, Seff is already dropping you off, double-checking that you’ll be okay for the weekend. “We’ll be at her mom’s place and you know her mom, middle of nowhere. No signal and—” you cut him off with a tight hug. He doesn’t say anything else until you let go. Until you’re sure the wine isn’t the only thing warm in your chest and belly. You’re slow to pull away but when you do, you walk backwards into your apartment, hand tight around the doorknob. The fear from before is back and though you know he has to leave, you wished he would stay. But that would mean asking. And you can’t ask that of him, not when he’s done so much for you already.

“See you when you get back.” He nods, tight-lipped.

“See you.” He starts the walk back to his car when you call out to him.

The words choke up in your throat but you manage to force them out, tasting bitter like vomit, “love you, be safe.” He parrots it back and tears blur your vision as you wave, watching as he disappears down the steps and then out of sight when his car drives away.

You swallow the lump in your throat, hoping you wouldn’t throw up on the floor after he mopped it, the fear of a familiar pit in your stomach as the door closes behind you. It’s quiet.

Way too quiet.

You turn your TV on, just loud enough to cover the ringing silence in your ears as you sit on the couch, not daring to check your bedroom or the kitchen for any intruders. You’re not sure what you want to find.

Head falling to your lap, phone open, your hand trembles as you press the icon for Wilbur’s contact. Despite him not answering before, you kept texting him and everyday it would stay on delivered, nothing would change. It felt maddening. Lonely. Desperate. You start typing a message out, speaking as your fingers moved, “Seff came over… helped clean and everything. I don’t know… where I’d be without… him.” Tears dripped onto your cheeks as you felt stupid and pathetic and- and- you couldn’t breathe, not around the sobs that escaped your mouth, covering it with one hand as you sent the message. He was just a guy and he only spent one night with you. It wasn’t even that special- you weren’t that special- why would he ever think-

It’s hard to focus but when the tears stop falling and you can breathe, at least through your mouth, you wipe the snot off with your sleeve.

Burglar be damned, you walk into the kitchen, tearing a paper towel off the roll and blowing your nose. It’s loud and it’s warm when you pull it away, groaning at the sight. “Fucking hell,” you mumble, tossing it into the trash.

The floor is cold beneath your feet walking back to the couch and when you sniff, you catch a whiff of that fabuloso again, pressing a hand to your forehead as you reach down to grab your phone. Your breath catches in your throat.

They’re- the messages- they’re not delivered anymore. He’s opened them. Thousands of emotions run through you in the matter of seconds. Air lodges itself in your throat, leaving you dizzy and unable to breathe as you think about it. Shame, humiliation. He’s seeing this pathetic, sad and lonely person vomit in his messages. Shock. Did he- did he lose his phone? Briefly angry, why couldn’t he just open it that night why did he have to wait till now? Staring down the phone screen, you can hardly recognize your thumb pressing on the call button. Without question, the cold press against your ear brings you to the moment, your mind clears of the haze as you’re forced to think, in milliseconds of a game plan. You thought of one over the last two months, wondered what you’d say to him, given the chance, but with your self-deprecating ass it was hard to think at all right now. Taking him back so quickly definitely was wrong, as was assuming he wanted you at all. Oh what to say?

As the call goes through and rings, hearing a vibrating noise outside the window you stiffen up. The one where you heard a noise from-

And the phone picks up, the vibration stops and all you can hear is the distant city noises, and perhaps the quietest panting you’ve heard. You approach the window, holding both hands at your phone, clutching as you whisper, “Wilbur?” Turning around until your back meets the wall beside it, you try to see if looking out would do anything. It doesn’t. It’s just as dark as it is inside of your living room, the only thing disturbing that inky blanket of darkness is your TV. You’re almost scared to turn it off. “Wilbur, what- are you there?” You didn’t know if you meant in general or right outside your fucking window but you can only imagine the answer when you see a phone drop onto the fire escape, a body falling to its knees, you can barely make out the silhouette. You drop your own phone when a hand smacks against the glass, dragging down as it smacks again and again. The shake in your hands makes it hard for you to flip the locks and you slide it up, just barely asking the question: just what in the hell are you doing??

But the hand falls off and a head of fluffy brown hair sticks in and he falls in with as much grace as a limp noodle, groaning all the way. You move him enough only to reach out and grab his phone, looking around to make sure nobody caught him sneaking in. You hope that in the case they do, they assume you’re only sneaking in a boyfriend— even if the assumption hurts to ache for.

“Fuck, Wilbur, what happened to you?” You hiss as you close the window, crouching as you help him sit against the wall, trying to look over him as his head rolls back. His eyes stare up at the ceiling as you look back at the window, catching sight of the red tint dragging down in the shape of his hand. Picking his wrist up, you do see the drying blood coating his skin. Your chest coils tight, thinking the worst of the worst. You try asking him what happened, where’s he hurt before his eyes drift down and find you, his face softening and a deep sigh rattles out of him, interrupted by a hiss and an attempt to press against his ribs. You need to call the ambulance, hell, take him to the hospital yourself but the way he’s sitting on your floor, already adjusting himself seems a little too… relaxed. As one can be relaxed when, no doubt, pain is at the forefront of your mind. “Wilbur, say something,” you beg with gritted teeth. You need a reason to not kick him out, to not pull him into your arms and kiss the wounds away no matter how tempting and how useless it would be. “Say something before I kill you myself.” And then he passes out.

You groan out in frustration, having caught his head in a panic when his body slumped over again and making a dive for the tile. “I cannot be doing this, Seff will kill me-” and then the sudden reminder, of oh yes, as of right now, you cannot call him. Despite more than likely being in the city together, you didn’t want him worrying over you again. You cannot keep doing that to him, he has a life of his own, Vick needs her husband and they’re going to visit her mom— and in your panic, a minute has passed and his head is still in your hand. You, out of nerves, started carding your free fingers through his hair, finding it… wet. You sniff close to his head and nearly groan again, yeah, his hair is wet with sweat.

You push his head back and reach around him, mumbling to yourself about how you should do it. Picking him up by the waist doesn’t do you any favors, neither does pulling on his arms. Bad idea in the first place. Sighing, you make a note to apologize later if he doesn’t die on you when you drag him to your room. It’s no question that he lies on your bed- after a towel has been laid out for him. If he’s bleeding, you don't want too big of a stain. You had considered leaving him on the floor… but then you couldn’t do it.

You check his arms, pushing his sleeves up and finding none of that. You check his head, nothing bleeding there. You take his shoes off but… that’s about all you do besides getting the first aid kit and setting it next to you, along with water and painkillers. If he was bleeding in the legs or chest or hell, even his feet, you needed him awake for that. And despite him literally being on your fire escape, which raises all sorts of questions mind you, you couldn’t undress him. You couldn’t.

After a few minutes, you shake his shoulder, giving his face a few smacks when he wakes up with a jolt, looking around until he finds you and then he groans, clutching at his side again, eyes shut tight. Then he tries to sit up. “Hey slow down there,” you say, holding onto his shoulder when it seemed he would stand up.

“Please, I should-” he swallows and you despise yourself for looking at his throat move, “I should go.”

“You shouldn’t be moving at all, now where’s the blood?” You speak fast, hoping to hide the shake in your voice if you were mean about it. He tried to fight you on it but when you pushed on his chest, stepping between his legs, he couldn’t move, head flung back as he tried to reel the grunts of pain in, trying to be quiet. “If you needed the hospital- or- or a clinic, you should’ve gone there first. But you didn’t, so you’re gonna tell me what’s hurting so I can help you.” He lays limp on your bed, unable to look at you as his mouth dropped open and snapped shut several times. “If you don’t tell me where it hurts, I’m going to stab you and then stitch you up myself and then throw you out my window so fucking- say something.”

It’s silent. Until it wasn’t. “Everywhere,” he rasped, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “It hurts everywhere. I can’t-” he gasps, hand coming up to where your own still processes, in the middle of his chest and over yours“-think.” You retract your hand immediately, backing up as you give him space. Space for yourself.

“Is there anything bleeding?” You ask and when he shakes his head, you think back to the clear blood on his hands, on your window. It doesn’t add up but taking it with a generous fistful of salt, you want to scream. “Okay- okay. Fuck.”

In the end, you have him sit up, half-apologizing for the pain and the other of you lets him have it, he can handle it just this once. He could’ve called, he could’ve texted, anything, but no, he had to wait until he was literally too hurt to move.

“Did you break anything?” You ask, digging through the first-aid kit while you waited for him to take his shirt off, “because with the way you’re bitching about these bruises—”

“—bitching?” He cuts you off, shirt halfway over his head.

“— yes, bitching, you’re not bleeding, if anything was broken you would’ve, surely, gone to a clinic. A healer, just, fucking anybody. No, you had to come to me.” You say, pulling out the self-adherent wrap and opening it up, unable to fault yourself in finding a battered, bare-chested Wilbur on your bed and losing your voice for it. The hair on his chest that leads down his stomach that leads further down into his pants… you breathe in as he himself is quiet. Starting at his ribs, you have him hold it down as you begin wrapping it around his torso, dedicated to ignoring the heat of his skin, how close you are to him. How you have to stand with one leg between his and lean into his space.

With each go-around, you make sure it’s not too tight, just enough to keep pressure and when you tape it down, you have him lay back down, gathering the first-aid kit to put on the nightstand. Heading into the kitchen for an ice-pack. In the middle of making one in a ziploc bag, you wonder what the fuck you’re doing. You’re patching up a guy who fell into your living room after having ghosted you for two months.

You want to be mad at yourself, you want to punish yourself so badly for letting him in so easily.

“Listen, I just wanted to say—” he says when you walk in and you couldn’t help yourself, you chucked it at the bed and snatched the throw blanket on your dresser, ignoring any other attempts at conversation.

“Get some rest, don’t call for me unless that bag is melted.” You say over your shoulder, closing your bedroom door shut and you can’t help the pathetic slide down against it. Tears try to fall but you wipe them furiously. He does not get to wander in and fuck everything up. For goodness’ sake, you’ve just mopped.

Setting up camp on your couch, you lie down with the knowledge that yeah your neck will be shit in the morning, but you don’t care. You don’t care. It won’t matter in the morning because in the morning, he’ll be okay enough to get up and stand somewhat straight and maybe without help and he’ll insist on leaving. That’s just how it’ll go. He’ll say he never meant to end up on your fire escape and in the morning, he’ll apologize for taking up your bed. Because that’s just how it’ll go. And then he’ll go. And you’ll never see him again.

That’s how it’s going to be. It’ll never be anything more. You sniffle, can’t even stop crying for a night. How fucking useless. You bury your head into the throw pillow and shiver under the thin blanket. It’ll be over soon. It’ll be over and he’ll be gone and you can pretend that you never intended on letting someone murder you. You can pretend that you’re normal and pretend everything is okay. Breathing out, you let sleep fall over you.

You rub the ache in your neck, grimacing as you flip another pancake, successfully burning it. It goes onto a stack of burnt pancakes. Turning off the stove, you don’t even pull butter or the syrup out of the fridge. Maybe your bitterness will fade away with time… maybe you’ll be able to look back in time and say, it’s okay. It just wasn’t meant to be. For right now, you get to be petty and serve your bruised guest burnt food.

Opening your bedroom door, you halt in your footsteps; finding him fast asleep. The ice-pack is nowhere to be found. A sigh falls out of your mouth, the sound of the plate that knocks against the dresser is almost as loud as your defeat. You take the blanket you’d slept with and drape it over him, tucking the edges under him. The idiot slept on top of the cover. Standing up straight, you look at him. This is the first time you’ve seen him in two months, and you feel hopeless. He looks so peaceful, so handsome, so pretty, so helpless you can’t help but want to stay. But he’s hurt you. No matter what he has to say.

You breathe in deep before turning to leave and you would’ve made it out the door had he not reached out for you, grasping your wrist with cold fingers. You shiver under his touch as his head falls to the side, his hair falling into his closed eyes. “What you do to me is cruel,” you whisper, sliding down to the floor and letting him hold your wrist. You don’t know how much I regret meeting you and you don’t know how much I cherish meeting you at all.

It takes twenty minutes for him to wake up, two minutes after that for him to let go. You stand up, throwing a new shirt at him. This one happened to be completely oversized and old for you, perfect for him. “Get dressed and eat, I’m either taking you to a hospital or a healer you know, fifteen minutes.” You don’t give yourself time to loiter in the room, you don’t give him time to explain himself. (You know that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mean to ghost you but let’s be real, you’re you. And he’s Wilbur. The math isn’t adding up. He just wasn’t that interested.)

About ten minutes after you walk out of your room, he stumbles out, gripping onto the walls and he groans with his mouth closed. You don’t let him see your flustered face at the sound, just walking out and letting him follow you to the stairs. You pull one of his arms over your shoulders and make a point not to talk to him, even when he tries to get you to let go. Saying all about how he can walk on his own and stairs are no problem… you couldn’t resist it though, he was pretty insistent that he’d be okay and maybe you’re still upset. You let go and watch as he falls down one step, catching him before he scraped himself up even more.

“And you said you had it under control.” You mutter and you can see he wants to say more but you send him a look that has him clenching his jaw again.

“Look, you don’t need to take me to a hospital.” He begins after the two of you are settled in your car.

“So you know a healer?” You turn to him, giving him a blank stare.

“Well- maybe- I-” he stumbles over his words as you start the engine.

“You have very limited options right now. Either I take you to someone who will help you or I will dump your ass on the front step of the nearest doctor. Pick one.” His jaw sets and you make it a point to stare ahead as he gives you directions.

In no time, you find yourself in front of an apartment building, helping him get out of the car and into the lobby. You barely helped him into the elevator before turning to leave, watching as he leaned against the elevator doors. He stumbled over his words again.

“I couldn’t text you. I wanted to, so badly.” He says, with the wettest eyes known to man.

“So you’re telling me, you saw I was texting, couldn’t respond for some mysterious reason and you expect me to tell you it’s okay?”

“I’m not saying it was.”

“Two months, Wilbur, you left me alone for two months.” You say, throwing it out there and he wants to say more, you can see it so clearly. You can see he wants to say why, wants to tell you everything. His big, sad eyes stare you down, tears close to falling. You look behind you, holding onto the elevator doors as you lean closer into the enclosed space. “And we’re only talking because you showed up at my window, bruised to hell and back with someone’s blood on your hands. Talk to me when you’re healed. Because yeah, I have questions. And if you can’t answer them when you’ve healed up, just go back to ignoring me. It worked perfectly fine for the both of us, didn’t it?” You don’t know why you said any of that, bitterness and hurt chokes you up, your words coming out stilted or too fast. Because no way in any version of reality were you okay. You wanted the truth. You wanted to know exactly what went wrong that night for him to ignore you.

And if he’s being honest with you right now, you’re not sure what to make of it.

But you’ve said your piece and the first tear falls down his cheek. So you lean in, palm smacking the button for the doors to close. You don’t wait a second before turning around and heading back to your car. Breaking down right in front of it.

You were so far from being okay, so, so fucking far.

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #c: wilbur #c: wilbur soot #eggplicit #<- i go a little nuts at the thought of chest hair my bad #and stomach hair..... a happy.. happy trail sjghsghs #ANYWAYS!#c: clinicbur #au: clinic #c: sirenbur #gender neutral reader

104 notes · View notes