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lovcrss · 2 months ago

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short ‘n whiskey | joel miller

summary: joel comes home and finds you with a drink in your hand and a tempting outfit

warnings: smut, kitchen sex, slightly rough but still sweet, oral (f!recieving), piv, teasing, unspecified age gap

a/n: need this man to ruin me, have so many ideas for him so if you wanna request fics for this man feel free!! (freaky and fluffy)

Joel’s boots thumping against the floor late at night broke the silence in your apartment. He stumbled into the dark shelter of yours, the only light coming from the kitchen.

For a few months now, it had been only you and Joel being each other’s survival partners and helping each other stay alive, taking shelter in a decaying building you found for yourselves. Joel was always very protective, even though he was still Joel. Distant, grumpy but still protective over you, especially because of your age.

As he sets down his bag and his rifle, the sound of a bottle clinking caused his guard to rise. The knife that was tucked away in his pocket was already pulled out as he quietly approached the room where the sound came from.

Once he spots a familiar figure standing by the sink Joel sighs in relief, putting away the knife again. “What’re you doin’ out here?” he grumbles.

You turn to face him, caught by surprise even though you heard his boots when he came in. A glass of booze rested on your lips as you went for a sip before he interrupted. You stood there with only a tank top and short sleeping shorts on, most of your skin exposed.

“Just… hanging out, I guess,” you shrug, face heating up partially because of the drink but also because of the way he freezes when he takes a closer look at you.

His eyes linger on your exposed body, scanning you up and down before looking away to regain his focus. “At this hour?” he raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he steps out of the hallway.

You catch him staring which boosts your confidence a little, mixing with the whiskey you had earlier. “Am I not allowed?”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head lightly, your half naked body calling his name. “No,” he glares, trying hard to keep his stare averted and look you in the eye. “But what if something got in and you’re out here…” he gestures to your outfit. “Like this.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “You weren’t supposed to see,” you mumble as you take another sip of your drink.

Joel shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling to stop himself from letting his gaze drop down where it shouldn’t. “Well I did,” he sighs, clueless about what do next. He knew he should just retreat, let you do what you want. However something kept him drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

When he spots you starting to chug down the whiskey, he curses under his breath as he starts approaching you. “Put that down,” he demands, taking the glass from your hands and setting it down on the counter behind you. “Easy, damn…”

You stood, clasped between him and the counter, almost pinned down by his tall body. The air starts getting thicker, the proximity allowing you to feel the heat from his body.

You look up at him through your lashes, slightly tipsy but gaining confidence from the way he’s looking at you.

“You got an early day tomorrow, should be sleeping…” he starts, but you stop listening to him halfway.

“You’re not my daddy,” you tease, crossing your arms so your breasts can squeeze under your light tank top. “I can handle myself.”

He freezes, glaring daggers into you, opening his mouth to say something but the words struggle to come out. “You…” His eyes start to wander again. “Have no idea what the hell you’re doin’. ”

You look down, your bodies and inch away from touching. “I do so,” you reply, determined to make him go insane.

His breath hitches, feeling his jeans tighten as you cross your bare legs, your thighs rubbing together. “Go to sleep,” his low voice echoes through the room.

The sound goes straight to your core, pushing yourself off the counter and feeling his breath down your face as you’re now almost pressed against each other. “And leave you hanging,” you look up at him doe eyed, “like this, now?” You carefully fix the collar of his flannel, your fingers brushing his neck.

His hands balled into fists on his sides, looking down at you in disbelief but also with deep desire to make you behave. “Stop it.” His breathing was heavier, your doe eyes burning holes into his face.

Your gaze softens, slipping past him. The shorts you wore rode up slightly, exposing your ass a little further as you took a few steps forward. Joel watches you go, fighting back a groan at the sight, wishing to grab you and pull you back again.

Almost as if you read his mind, you turn around suddenly. “I’m still thirsty.”

He huffs as he grabs the bottle off the counter. “Too bad.” He takes a sip of the whiskey before closing it and putting it out of your reach.

“No fair,” you whine.

“You had enough already,” he raises his eyebrows, stepping closer to you. “Keep it up and I’m gonna have to carry ya to your bed.”

You smirk, tilting your head. “Wouldn’t mind that at all.”

Joel's jaw clenches at your teasing. “I ain’t gonna repeat myself, kid. This ain't no joke.”

The state you were in right now was unlike anything he saw of you before and Joel had no clue how to make you listen. All he knew was that he had to run like hell before you had the chance to see his growing erection.

“We’re re both gonna regret this come mornin’, ” he warns. “So go to bed.” He turns around to put the glass away after you.

You didn’t move at first. Just watched him—broad shoulders tense, back turned, like maybe if he didn’t see you, it’d be easier to pretend none of this was happening. But you weren’t going to let him walk away from this. From you.

“Joel,” you said, quietly, voice stripped of the teasing. “I’m not drunk.”

He didn’t answer, but his head dipped—like your words landed heavier than he wanted to admit.

“I know what I’m doing. And I know what I want.” You took a step toward him, careful, like approaching a wounded animal. “I think you know too.”

When he speaks and turns to face you, his voice is hoarse and almost broken. “I don’t get to have this no more.”

Gently, you pressed a hand to his chest. “You do. You just don’t let yourself.” Joel took in your words, still carefully watching your moves. You lean in closer. “Let me help you,” you coo softly.

Joel’s hand came up to your wrist, at first thinking about pulling it away but now to hold it there, grounding himself in your touch. His eyes flicked from your mouth to your eyes, like he was still trying to talk himself out of it.

In a moment you thought he was gonna shove you away — but then he gave in.

He leaned in slow, as if giving you or himself every chance to back away. The hesitation was hard to get rid of, pulling back slightly but not all the way. “This ain’t right.”

You scoff at his uncertainty and hesitation, tired of dancing around each other. “Shut up.”

Your lips come crashing together in a heated, passionate kiss. Joel’s hands grip your hips possessively, tasting whiskey when his tongue demands entrance into your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck, chest pressing into him.

He slows down at first, wanting to take it easy on you, gentle and careful like protecting a glass figure but when he feels your breasts squeeze against him and your fingers tugging at his belt, something inside of him unleashes.

Joel picks you up with ease, placing you on his waist and grabbing your ass eagerly. The kiss deepens as he slams you down on the counter, the sounds you both made mixing together.

After finally pulling away, breathless, Joel’s hand slides under your tank top, his rough fingers inching higher over your soft skin. They finally reach your breast, gently kneading it. His thumb brushes over your nipple, making it pebble.

With a mewl, your legs wrap around him tighter. You hold yourself up with your palms on the counter, letting him explore you all he wants.

Joel's mouth descends to your collarbone, sucking and biting gently as his other hand reaches down, fingers hooking under the edges of your panties. They find your slick heat and he teases your entrance, circling it slowly. “So wet…”

You whine, trying hard not to move against his hand and let him toy with you his way. “Joel…” Your mouth is parted, thighs already trembling with desire.

He observes you for reactions as his thumb rolls your clit. “What, baby?”

“N-Need you… Please,” you whimper as the tip of his finger enters your hole.

The corner of his mouth twitches at your begging. “Since you asked so nicely.” He pushes a finger inside you, groaning at how tight and hot you are. His thumb rubs firm circles over your clit as he starts to pump his finger in and out. The sounds you make to encourage him makes his groin stir, increasing his speed and spreads your legs wider, parting your folds with his other hands for better access.

The way his fingers work you has you arching your back, saying his name like a prayer. Joel adds another finger, scissoring them to stretch you further as he picks up the pace. His thumb continues its relentless stimulation of your clit, whispering praises into your ear. He leans in to capture your mouth in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to tangle with yours. The taste of whiskey mingles with your sweetness as he devours you. His lips move down your neck, nipping at the soft skin, travelling down to your tits and assaulting the sensitive buds with his mouth.

“Oh my God,” you moan, the pleasure felt otherworldly. You hold onto him, tangling your fingers in his hair. His fingers curl in a way that has you seeing stars. “F-yes… fuck!”

Your responses, your parted lips and furrowed eyebrows had his desire to devour you grow into a wildfire. The pent up tension made it all worth as long as he had the chance to take care of you but also ruin you as well.

Joel's eyes lock onto yours, dark with lust and intensity as he watches you unravel. “Come on, baby girl.” He pinches your clit hard as his fingers keep hitting your sweet spot, sending you plummeting over the edge. Your walls clench tightly around his fingers as you cry out, waves of pleasure crashing over you. “Joel!”

Watching your climax hit had Joel’s own arousal rise and your head spinning as the last drop spills onto his hand. Trying to catch your breath, you hold onto him while you recover and he whispers reassurances in your ear with his head nuzzling into your neck.

The feeling of emptiness disturbs your daze when he pulls out his fingers and takes a step back. You whine in protest, grabbing his hand and pulling him back.

He huffs out a laugh, giving you a confused look. “What? Wanna get you cleaned up.”

You shake your head, tugging at his belt, fully aware of the erection he must have even though his jeans slightly hid it. “Not tired yet,” your voice pleads. “Still…”

There was no need to finish the sentence, his grip already on your thighs again. “Wasn’t done with you anyway,” he rasps, hungrily stroking your inner thighs. “You’re sure tough, gotta give you that.”

You chuckle and bite your lip, pulling off his belt with great speed. He follows after, tugging down your shorts and unzipping his jeans, letting them drop to the floor. You work the buttons of his flannel, not wasting a second.

“Easy baby, I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he jokes at the intensity you moved with, deciding to make it easier for you. He pulls you to the edge of the counter and wraps your legs around him. “Wanna take my time with you ‘n maybe you’ll listen.” Effortlessly, he picks you up and leads you to the bedroom, kissing you like he needs it to save his life.

Once you reach the modest old bed, he plops you down on the mattress and slides your tank top over your head. A low, approving growl rumbles in his chest at the renewed heat he can feel building between your thighs. His calloused hands skim reverently over the soft skin of your sides and stomach, mapping out every dip and curve.

He ducks his head, capturing one pert nipple between his lips and suckling gently, his tongue swirling around the sensitive mound. His hand drifts lower, fingers ghosting teasingly over your slick folds, ready and wet for him again, your clit aching against his thumb.

“Please,” you whimper, squirming impatiently.

Unable to contain himself any longer, he takes off his underwear and you feel his thick, angry tip tease your entrance. He groans, your wetness already getting him sensitive. “Wanna hear you,” he croons, his Southern drawl full of desire.

Notching the broad head of his cock at her entrance, he starts to push forward, breaching her slowly. Her slick walls stretch deliciously around him as he sinks in inch by thick inch, letting her adjust to his size.

You moan, the stretch making your world spin. His hands caress your sides and hips soothingly as he lets you adjust, his own breathing ragged with restraint. Finally, when he feels you start to relax around him, he begins to move. He sets a deep, rolling rhythm, pulling out nearly to the tip before sliding back in, hitting that special spot inside you with every thrust.

Feeling his restraint to fully slam into you, you sink down on him slightly even more on your own. “N-Need more,” you pant, hands holding onto his forearms.

Joel didn’t need to be told twice. “Oh yeah?” he challenges, pulling out almost entirely, his tip still halfway in. Before you could protest, he rams into you in a way that makes your back arch and both of you moan. “Fuck!” you cry out desperately.

Your cries and increasingly loud moans spur him on, his hips snapping forward with growing urgency. He changes the angle slightly, lifting your ass up into his hands, determined to hit that perfect spot inside her with every deep thrust. “That’s it baby girl, take it.”

The obscene slap of skin on skin fills the room, mixing with her keening cries and his own guttural groans. He guides your hands to your own heat, placing your fingers on your clit. “Touch yourself for me.”

Obeying him, you start rubbing yourself in firm motions, circling around it. With every thrust your moans get louder, your tits bounce harder and his cock hits the places you didn’t know could be reached. He watches your tits move along the force of his hips, grasping onto one of them while cupping the other slightly gentler.

The pleasure is almost too much for you, the combinations having your eyes roll back. “Joel, fuck!”

Determined to bring you with him, he targets his thrusts, angling to hit that special spot inside you with every deep plunge, the force rocking your entire body. “Oh my God!” you moan at the pace he keept up. He groans, feeling her walls flutter and clench around his pistoning length, making him dangerously close to the edge. “Fuck, I-” he pants, his moves getting sloppier. “I’m close…”

“Me- nghh… too,” you whimper, holding onto him tighter as his hand replaces yours over your clit.

You clenching around him with an almost animalistic cry as you come undone beneath him is the final push he needs. With a roar of completion, he hilts himself deep inside your spasming sheath, his cock pulsing as he starts to empty himself in thick, hot spurts directly against your cervix.

"Jesus," he snarls, grinding against you as he rides out the intense waves of his orgasm. Each twitch and throb of his shaft sends another load of his seed painting your insides, marking you as his.

Through it all, his hands roam your body possessively, caressing and kneading every curve as if committing it to memory. He peppers your face with kisses between harsh breaths, murmuring praise and adoration against your skin. "So good... so fucking perfect."

Your boneless frame settles on the mattress in his embrace, tangling your fingers in his hair. A contented sigh escapes him as he listens to your gentle panting, your heartbeat gradually slowing to match his own and everything calms down. “That tire you out?” he teases, laying down next to you and keeping you steady in his arms.

“A little,” you sigh, even though your eyes were struggling to stay open as you rest your head on his chest.

He laughs lightly, attempting to get up and clean you up but you didn’t let him, deciding to hold him while you still had him. “Stay,” you sleepily murmur.

“ ‘S okay, baby,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss onto your forehead softly, like he’s kissing the most precious thing in the world. “I got you.”

send rq, the freakier the better 😭🙏 and fluff and angst too cause they’re the best

ALSO NO JOEL IS OKAY YALL ABBY DIDNT PLAY GOLF WITH HIM IN MY HEAD PLS 💔

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou hbo #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #tlou2 #tlou fanfiction

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just-a-little-moth · 1 year ago

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Parrying in video games should be easier.

#it's such a core mechanic in combat games these days they need to give me a handicap #like my dude flashes red when it's time to press the dodge/parry button #I can't reliably know when the hitbox on the enemy weapon isnclose enough to hitting the hitbox on my character that the didge/parry #will work #sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn't #sometimes i literally do the thing at the same time it worked before and it won't work #then I'm screwed over cuz the game is bullying me so i can't win #git gud i guess #hard to git gud when gitting gud is locked behind a bachelor's degree in enemy a's attack pattern #moth rant #angy moth #i just eanna beat bokoblins to death with my fragile fragile hammer T-T #T-T

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daydreamdoodles · 2 years ago

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Its a testament to my will that I do not own the valentine's day plague nurse and the new forest feyrie alter ego plague nurse

#day musings #The trifecta of my personality #also the love moth?#idk if its a love moth but its so pink #which is incredibly me core

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a-hermit-pining · 4 months ago

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LADS Men Role Reversal with Reader

AN: I love the idea of this. Works well with reader pov 🤌🏻🤌🏻 Also if anyone knows a top or gn reader blog for LADS please let me know (I do not own these characters)

Warning: Potential Spoilers. Be Mindful 👺

Pairing: Lads boys x gn reader

Genre: Role reversal & cannon divergence

Summary: What if places are switched. They are the bearer of Aether core and you are the past.

Rafayel:

You walk into the art museum, marveling at the strokes that lifetimes have failed to change. How is it that he still paints the same?

You are drawn to him as moths to flame.

In some divine way, despite being wrenched from your kingdom, fate is merciful to you. It always contrives a way for your path to cross his.

Your powers are long diminished, time is cruel like that. But the years spent in his world have given you enough leverage to hire him as a painter. To commission a portrait of yourself, just so you may have the mercy of watching him paint again.

This time, you wonder, will he, who has left you waiting for so long, remember you? Will he still remember how to love you?

You look at him, his furrowed brows, his pronounced pout, his dramatic tendency to flail and fall. He remains unchanged.

Xavier:

He is there before your eyes, as if conjured by the very moonlight itself.

One moment, you were slaying the Wandered. The next, you blinked to rest your eyes, and he was by your side, calling your name frantically, his hands steadying your shoulders.

You would have felt him, had you not been so tired. How could you not have known? Perhaps this is the last mercy the universe has to offer, to let you meet him for one final lifetime.

And so, it begins again.

The last dance of your last spring with him.

This lifetime will not see him sacrificed. None after this will either, because you will make sure of it.

Picking up your sword, you follow him, sidestepping his mumbled questions with ill-concealed fondness.

That last spring becomes the most beautiful of all the springs you have ever spent beside him.

Zayne:

In every reincarnation, you never quite know when the memories will return. But they always do. Lord Astra makes certain of it, allowing you the agony of foreknowledge.

It is the price you pay for leaving him. For choosing Zayne.

His presence comes at a steep cost.

But the grief of the past has never dampened the joy of another lifetime with him.

It has only made you foolishly stubborn, unyielding in your desire to defy his fate.

You meet him as a friend, a lover, a colleague in some lives. A riddling foreseer in others.

Yet, no matter how much time erodes the traces of your world, he remains untouched. In some twisted amusement, your Lord Astra ensures that Zayne always falls in love with you.

In every life, you cross paths. In every life, Zayne offers you his heart with the same sincerity. And you, despite the centuries of pain, accept it foolishly.

Because no matter the cost, you refuse to break his heart. All the foreknowledge in the world has failed to make you stop loving him.

Sylus:

Head of the Onichynus?

He seriously never stops surprising your ancient senses.

You grin at your mate as he guides you into the embellished mansion of his latest empire. Countless rebirths have failed to dull his chaos.

Somehow, they have also failed to make your heart any wiser.

So, you play your part, the spoiled aristocrat whisked- away to gather intel, watching him roll his eyes at your complaints.

Somewhere along the way, this endless cycle of separation and reunion has stopped aching. Instead, it hums beneath your skin, a yearning that lingers, waiting for him to remember.

He always remembers.

No matter what land you are born into, no matter what name you take, your mate always finds his way back to you.

You only have to wait. To play along with his games.

Who are you to complain, when he has so meticulously planned your first meeting?

Sometimes, even dragons play the part of a sheep.

Caleb:

You watch as he collapses in the academy lobby.

Your heart shudders at the sight of him, his gaunt face, his sunken eyes.

He has lost weight.

You caused this. Your death.

Every day, he wakes earlier than before. Every night, he loses more sleep. Working himself to the bone, chasing perfection, desperate to be the best among the aerospace cadets.

He still wears your dog tag pendant. The one he once gifted to you. It brings you some comfort.

You wish—oh, how you wish, to run to him. To hold him. To tell him you are alive.

To force him to rest. To forbid him from risky missions he volunteers for to progress faster into his role.

Yet, you cannot afford to. Not yet.

Someday, you will return to him. Stronger than you are now. You will make sure he never suffers again. Perhaps he doesn’t need you to do that, but you will no longer allow anyone to control both of your lives.

Not after how close you had come to losing him alongside your grandmother.

This time, you will keep him away from EVER’s claws.

Or rather, this time, you will be the one to hunt the monster that has haunted him for so long.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace headcannon #love and deepspace x reader #sylus x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #zayne love and deepspace #caleb x reader #fluff #angst #role reversal au

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chleem · 7 months ago

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Work from home

Oneshot: bf drew x gf yn

Summary: staying focused is impossible with drew’s ‘subtle’ distractions, especially when he’s determined to get your attention.

Genre: established relationship, smut, fluff, light read

Warnings: cursing, sex (pussy eating), lowkey needy drew,

⋆.˚ don't copy or translate my work

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Will you-“

You turn around, slapping the pen out of Drew’s hand. “Cut it out?”

Drew looks at you with his signature blank stare, as if his own annoyance is justified.

The two of you haven’t seen each other in weeks, due to you and Drew’s busy schedules. His new movie’s coming out, and you have a very urgent report to write for your boss.

Now that you’re finally under the same roof as him, you can’t help but get annoyed at every distraction he causes.

He came into the home office not even ten minutes, and he’s occupied himself by playing with the things on your desk. Flipping through your binders, messing with the AC, etc. You just deprived him of his last fidget toy.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, unapologetically.

You roll your eyes, turning back to your laptop. You continue typing, ignoring the gloomy presence behind you. If he wasn’t so distracting, this report can be done in...an hour.

Not even thirty seconds later; “hey, um, I need your help,” you hear him talking behind you, a weight put on the armrest to your right.

You ignore it; knowing Drew just wanted to distract you.

“Y/n?” His fingers drum against your armrest now, tapping impatiently, trying to get your attention.

Once again, you stay focused, typing away at your report.

“Babe.”

You don’t miss the firm, almost commanding tone hinted in his nickname for you.

“Yes?” You bat your eyelashes up at him, with your fingers still typing away. You watch as his eyes glance over at your fingers, his eyes narrowing in disapproval.

“Stop that-“ his hand hover over yours before gently pressing them flat against the keyboard, halting your typing. Your raise an eyebrow at Drew, waiting for him to explain. “Stop with this whole- work thing.”

You pull your fingers out, crossing your arms as you laid back on your chair. He ignited a flare inside of you that you didn’t know, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

Drew gently bites down on his lips, scratching the back of his head. His eyes plead to you, the blue in them sparkling, for some reason. “Spend time with me. I’m bored, and we’re home together.”

The softness in his tone catches you off guard, but you quickly mask it, staring back at your laptop screen. “I’m working, Drew,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

“You’re always working…” you hear him murmur, as your hands go back to the keyboard again. You brush his hands away, straightening your posture.

The typing of your keyboard is the only thing filling the silence of the room, Drew’s presence close beside you.

Drew’s a big guy, so subtle movements by him was all noticeable in the corner of your eye. He kneels beside you, his hand pulling your chair back. “Hey-“

You begin to protest, but he does the most unexpected thing.

He brings himself between your legs, and he hugs your lower stomach.

Woah. The warmth of him floods through you, making it hard to think straight. His arms fully wrap around your waist, nuzzling his face between your thighs.

He doesn’t move; just hugging your waist, kneeling on the ground.

You clear your throat, flustered at the close proximity of him. “Drew?”

His blue eyes peek up at you, a sly glint in them. “Yeah?” His voice is soft, but you hear the teasing edge in it. What sends you over is the closeness of his face near your core; the damn thin material of your shorts.

“What are you doing?” Was your voice always this hitched?

“Just hugging you,” Drew mumbles, his fingers rubbing soft circles around the bare skin that your crop-top showed. He sees the skepticism lingering on your features, and sends a small smirk along the way. “Can’t I?”

…This motherfucker. He’s trying to distract you!

Fine. Two could play this game.

With a deliberate shift, you ease back into your chair. “Of course you can,” you reply, “But if you’re done with the hugging, I’ve got work to do.”

Drew watches you for a beat, eyes flicking over your face. You feel him nuzzle his face back between your thighs, but you stay focused—typing, clicking, pretending to give him no more attention than his little distractions deserve.

His hand slips under your top, fingers coming in contact with your breasts.

At the same time, he starts to plant kisses on your inner thigh, dangerously close to the hem of your underwear.

Fuck. You needed to stop him, because if he goes any further, no work will be done. Except for the lustful one that’s building in your stomach.

Two could play this game? No; you yield in seconds because of how Drew plays.

You run your hands through his scalp, feeling the soft strands of hair beneath your touch. A knowing smirk growing on his lips as he glances up at you. “This isn’t a hug,” you manage to say, thumb rubbing the corner of his eye.

He leans into your touch, “I’know.”

“Then stop it,” you say, the words feeling hollow, because you don’t want him to stop. Not really.

“When you’re focused, nothing else really matters, right?”

Drew fucking Starkey.

He delivers a quick kiss to your wrist, before nuzzling his face back to where it was. You watch as his hands spreads your thighs further apart, fingers tugging on the waistband of your shorts.

Shit. It’s working already.

“No-“

“C’mon,” he teases, staring up at you with the familiar look of mischief. “Won’t even know I’m down here.”

You give him a knowing grin, “really need to get this done, Drew.”

“Hmm,” he pats your back, “ignore me like before, babe.”

“Y’know that’s impossible,” you mumble, hips rising just like he told you to.

His eyes stare into yours lustfully, fingers pulling down your shorts and underwear until they’re to your knees. “Just a taste…then I’ll leave you alone.”

He’s never going to leave you alone.

He averts his attention to the now throbbing pussy of yours, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs. “Hey, look,” a grin appears on his lips, “you don’t want me to leave.”

You throw your head back against the chair, partly embarrassed at his mention of the wetness that has pooled since he ‘hugged’ you. Teasing prick.

His soft chuckle echos through the room, before you feel the warmth of his tongue against your folds.

You gasp out of pleasure and surprise; he wastes no time in eating you, fully making out with your folds. “Fuck,” you curse, running your hands through his scalp.

He grunts against you, one hand raising your leg over his shoulder, to get him deeper between you. His other hand reaches under your top, and he starts kneading your breasts.

“Drew…” you shamelessly moan out his name, melting under his touch; he knew how to pleasure you, to make you feel good. Hearing your moans, Drew picks up the pace, his licks getting sloppier, losing any sense of rhythm.

A slow curve of your spine, you let the sensation roll through you. His hand around your breasts play with your hardened nipples, rubbing and tugging on them. The grip your thigh silently demands you stay still as he eats you out.

The sounds of his wet tongue against you fills the room, along with moans and grunts of pleasure.

You feel your orgasm building, begging to released. “Shit,” you manage to say, the air being knocked out of you. “I’m, close.”

“Mhm,” he hums, hot breath hitting your clit. “Cum in my mouth, baby.”

His words along with the playing of your nipples do it; the knot in your stomach undone. He slows down on his tongue, licking it up and swallowing. Fuck.

For a moment, the two of you take seconds just stare into each other’s eyes, heavy breaths mixing together.

Then, the moment is over, because Drew lets go of your leg, breasts, the whole warmth of him disappearing.

You stare at him confused as he stands up again, wondering if something shifted.

You also don’t miss the evident boner in his pants.

He cocks his head to the side, “back to work, huh?” The mocking in his voice stings in your head, as he walks off, out your office.

Motherfucker. You sit there, still reeling from the orgasm. You don’t even want - can’t to do work anymore. Now? You just want Drew. Specifically what’s growing in his pants.

Maybe this report can wait a bit longer? …you hate how badly you want him right now, how he got you right where he wants you to be.

“Drew!” You yell after him, getting up and tugging your underwear and shorts to the floor.

You walk out your home office, to the shared bedroom, and see Drew getting ready to hop in bed.

He looks you up and down, eyes lingering longer at your naked lower half. Your eyes find them glued to his boner too, “maybe I can have a five minute break.”

He chuckles, the sound low and warm, and before you can even think, you’re jumping into his arms. His strong hands catches you effortlessly, pulling you closer as you wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest, the heat of his body enveloping you.

His arms tighten around you, holding you steady as you lean in, lips finding his. You kiss him, with eagerness, lust, everything. He kisses you back with the same energy, lying you down on the bed.

He hovers over you, his weight just enough to make your heart race, your hands already reaching for the buttons of his shirt.

But Drew pulls away, his blue eyes locking with yours, a playful edge in them. “This could take longer than five,” he says, his voice low, teasing, and full of promise.

“Hmm,” you mindlessly hum, the idea of work slipping away.

He was right; it ended up being not one, but three rounds tangled up in sheets, and the report long forgotten.

It was also a lesson to yourself; to stop procrastinating, and never work with Drew around.

-------------------------------

word count: 1.7k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: hoped you enjoyed this! got this idea from watching that scene from Through my Window (iykyk). and ik, its a very sloppy writing so ignore any mistakes T_T also, isnt this pic of him just delicious? ugh, to be his gf...anyways, hope you liked this!

elevator | other

#drew starkey #drew starkey x you #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #x reader #fiction #fluff #smut #oneshot #drabble #relationship #established relationship

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yanderestarangel · 5 months ago

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ೀ goddess of the night — sevika x reader ೀ

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 summary: Doing a striptease for a few bucks on her lap, you got more than just a paycheck...

♡┊TW: fem!reader, wlw, afab anatomy, body worship, praise kink, fingering, striptease, dom!sevika, eat out, fluff ending.

✎ this smut is a commission.

She had been watching you from the moment you stepped into the brothel—drawn like a moth to flame. You were the center of attention, a vision of honey and ambrosia, pulling in patrons with a magnetism they couldn’t resist. But Sevika wasn’t just another admirer.

She needed you.

You weren’t some cheap whore, no, no. You were royalty—an untouchable queen, a divine seductress meant to be worshipped. Every movement of your body was deliberate, sensual, never vulgar. You knew exactly how to wield your beauty, controlling each motion like an erotic puppet master. And the entire room was ensnared.

Sevika was no exception.

She watched, entranced, her desire for you evolving from a passing indulgence into an all-consuming obsession. When she finally approached, offering a drink, her voice was smooth but edged with hunger. She complimented your performance, hinted at her craving to see more—privately.

You teased her, claiming your time was too costly, too exclusive. But she didn’t hesitate. She offered more than she’d make in months, just for the chance to have you to herself. Doubts be damned. If Silco had any objections, she’d handle it. All that mattered was you.

She followed as you led her to the back, sinking into a plush armchair, the dim light casting shifting shadows across your body. Cigar smoke curled from her lips as she watched you, unblinking, taking in every curve, every teasing movement.

Sevika could die right then and there. She was already in heaven.

Then the music started.

Her large hands found your waist, pulling you close. The scent of her cologne mixed with the lingering tobacco in the air, the heady musk wrapping around you. Her tired, battle-hardened eyes gleamed as she exhaled, smoke curling between you.

"Beautiful… You’re fucking amazing… So hot…"

Her rough palms squeezed at your flesh, encouraging you to move, to grind against her, and you obeyed—pressing closer, teasing her further. She groaned, deep and guttural, her breath warm against your skin. Bills slipped from where she’d stuffed them into your lingerie, fluttering to the floor. And then, her cigarette slipped from her lips. She barely noticed as she crushed it out against the wall, too captivated by the soft swell of your breasts in her face. When you didn’t push her away, Sevika took it as permission. She leaned in, pressing slow, lingering kisses to your skin, murmuring between them.

"I’ve been watching you for so long… So fucking long, sweetheart."

Her left hand drifted lower, fingertips ghosting over your panties. She hesitated.

"Can I?" she rasped, voice thick with need. "I don’t want to do anything you don’t want. I’ll pay extra. I’ll pay fortunes—just to touch you."

Her fingers trembled, waiting. But when your needy voice gave her the permission she craved, she didn’t hesitate. Sevika groaned as her fingers pressed against your core through the damp fabric, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over your clit. Her mouth found your breasts, sucking and trailing wet kisses over each one, her touch perfectly in sync with the rhythm of your dance.

And finally, she pushed the lace aside.

A sharp inhale. A quiet curse.

"Huh—Look at this pretty little thing."

She watched, mesmerized, as you glistened for her, your slickness coating her fingertips as you rolled your hips, grinding against her touch.

"I want to fuck you so bad, sweetheart," she groaned— "Fuck you until your thighs tremble." Sevika's breath came hot and heavy against your skin, her fingers teasing, exploring—but never quite giving in just yet. She was savoring this, dragging it out, as if committing every second to memory.

"You're already so wet for me... dripping. Fucking perfect."

Her fingers traced lazy circles over your clit, pressing just enough to make you shudder against her. The soft fabric of your lingerie did little to dull the sensation—if anything, the slight friction made it all the more intoxicating. You arched into her touch, your body betraying you, craving more. Sevika chuckled low in her throat, her amusement laced with desire.

"So desperate already? Thought you were the one in control here."

Her other hand, rough and calloused, trailed up your spine, gripping your hip as she pulled you closer, pressing your bodies together. With a slow, deliberate motion, she finally slid the damp lace aside, exposing you completely to her gaze. She groaned at the sight, fingers sliding through your slick folds, spreading you open. Her thumb pressed against your clit as two thick fingers teased at your entrance, barely pushing inside before retreating again. She was toying with you, testing your patience.

"Tell me how bad you want it..." she demanded "I want to hear you beg for it."

She leaned in, lips grazing your ear, her breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Be a good girl and tell me."

Your hands gripped her shoulders, nails digging into the leather of her jacket, your body burning with frustration and need. You could beg—but something about the challenge in her voice made you want to push back.

So instead, you smirked. Rolled your hips against her fingers, forcing her hand deeper between your legs. That smile; She loved knowing how hot you knew you were... Sevika's nostrils flared, her jaw tightening.

For a second, she just stared at you—then, with a growl, she obeyed. Her fingers plunged inside you without warning, stretching you, filling you. Your gasp turned into a moan as she curled them just right, pressing against the spot that made your thighs tremble.

"Fuck—there we go..." she moan, watching the way you clenched around her, how your body responded so perfectly. "Knew you'd feel good around me." Her pace started slow but firm, dragging her fingers in and out, working you open, making you feel every inch of her. Her thumb rubbed tight circles over your clit, pushing you higher, closer to that edge — you whimpered, head falling against her shoulder, but she wasn’t having that.

"Nah, honey— I wanna see that pretty face when you cum."

Her pace quickened, her fingers relentless, and all you could do was take it—take her—as the pleasure coiled tight in your stomach, ready to snap. Sevika grinned, sensing your impending release.

"Come on... Cum for me, babygirl."

And when you finally shattered, shaking apart in her arms, Sevika just held you through it—watching, savoring, completely fucking ruined for anyone else... Marking you as perhaps the best orgasm you've had in a while. Sevika didn’t stop—not yet. Her fingers slowed but didn’t retreat, keeping you trembling in her lap, riding the aftershocks of your orgasm. She watched you with something between hunger and fascination, her thumb still ghosting over your sensitive clit, drawing out every last pulse of pleasure.

"Good girl for me... accepting me so well..." she says soft, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder. "So fucking pretty when you come."

Your breath hitched, body twitching under her touch, but she wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

"Think you can handle more, miss?" she asked, her tone almost mocking, knowing damn well you could barely think, let alone answer. But your body spoke for you—hips rolling instinctively against her hand, already craving another taste of that high.

Sevika chuckled darkly.

"That’s what I thought."

Without another word, she eased you back against the plush couch, spreading your legs wider as she settled between them. Her fingers withdrew from your soaked heat only to be replaced by something hotter—her mouth. A sharp gasp left your lips as she pressed open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh, inhaling deeply as if memorizing your scent.

Her tongue flicked over your clit, teasing, tasting, before she latched on properly, sucking just hard enough to make your entire body jolt. Your fingers found their way into her hair, gripping the short strands as your thighs instinctively tried to close around her head — sevika growled, gripping your thighs in response, keeping you spread for her.

"Spread those thighs, little bitch."

Her tongue worked you over with slow, deliberate precision—alternating between soft flicks and deep, wet strokes that had you arching off the couch. She moaned against you, clearly enjoying this just as much as you were, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure straight through you.

"Taste so fucking good.., you're a goddess..." she muttered before diving back in, licking into you like she was starving. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—your world had narrowed down to nothing but the wet heat of her mouth and the way she devoured you. Her tongue moved with agonizing precision—long, languid strokes over your clit, alternating between teasing flicks and deep, indulgent licks that had you gasping for air.

"That’s it, baby... So responsive… I could spend hours right here, just tasting you."

She sucked, slow and deep, her grip tightening on your thighs as she pinned you open, refusing to let you shy away from her hunger. Her groan vibrated against you, making your body jolt, your fingers tightening in her short, dark hair.

"You make the prettiest sounds..." she rasped, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh before dipping back down, dragging her tongue over your soaked heat again. Her pace quickened, tongue working in perfect, practiced rhythm—driving you higher, closer to the edge, until you were on the verge of falling apart all over again—

And then she stopped.

A desperate whimper left your lips as she pulled back, her mouth glistening, her expression smug and wicked. She wiped her chin with the back of her hand, then leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, messy kiss, letting you taste yourself on her tongue. Without warning, her touch softened. She pulled back just enough to study your face, her dark eyes flickering with something different—something softer.

"Let’s get out of here."

Her voice was lower now, rougher, but not from lust—from something else entirely. She brushed a thumb over your kiss-swollen lips, so your dazed eyes met hers.

"I want to to know the pretty woman behind these curves... Let me take you somewhere nice. Just you and me— I'll pay for everything and also for your overtime, I promise."

Sevika leaned in, pressing a final, lingering kiss to your lips before pulling back, already reaching for her cigar. She smirked as she lit it, the glow from the flame casting warm shadows across her face. Flicking the lighter shut, she exhaled a slow stream of smoke, tilting her head toward the door.

"Come on princess... Your shift isn't over yet."

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rsatoru · 9 months ago

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“‘toru, you busy?” you ask, leaning against the doorway as satoru finishes a phone call, stirring his coffee at the table.

“can never be too busy for you, baby,” he chides, “need anything?” cocking an eyebrow with a smirk playing on his lips like a secret.

“‘s just that,” you murmur softly against your breath, closing the door behind you as you approach him—your heart fluttering like a moth drawn to light.

you straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. “‘s just that,” leaning in close, “i wanna cum on your fingers right now.” whispering in his ear, your breath a warm breeze against his skin.

satoru takes a few seconds to respond, the silence thick with tension—he was so certain you could almost feel the hardness of his desire pressing against your core right at that moment, unwavering as hard as steel.

“oh yeah?” he asks, a cocky smirk dancing on his lips. “feeling a bit needy today, huh, baby?” making you let out a little whimper and lean in a little closer.

“satoru,” you respond, your voice tinged with pure annoyance. you needed him right then and there, the ache within you almost unbearable, painfully so.

“only on my fingers? you can be greedy, baby,” he teases, “tell me what else you wanna cum on.” his voice low and playful as if he was a cat toying with its prey, wanting to play this game with you a little longer. the air between you crackles with anticipation, and you, you can almost feel the weight of his gaze—inviting and bold, urging you to reveal your desires.

but unfortunately for you, being the insufferable tease that he is, satoru gojo never misses a chance to push you to the brink, forcing you to voice your deepest, most obscene desires. so then, with no time to lose, you finally respond, “wanna cum on your cock, ‘toru.”

“atta girl,” he chides, a playful glint in his eyes as he leans closer. clearly enjoying the game.

⁺ . . .

HI CHAT i died a little, didn't i? anyways here's a little drabble cus i just miss him, it's terrible but we goo

#⠀🗂️⠀#⠀⠀— ☆ rsatoru⠀⠀#gojo #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut

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annewithaneofthegreengable · 9 months ago

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Kinktober - Day 3

3rd — quickie, Toto Wolff

The previous day I The next day I Kinktober masterlist I Main list

Prompt: They had met a few months prior at a high-profile charity gala in Paris. Toto, being a prominent businessman and philanthropist, was a guest of honor, and you were part of the event planning team. Now months apart, you guys meet up at a welcome party in Monaco, before the Monaco Grand-prix.

You’re struggling to hold in your breath as Toto's large hands grip your waist. You grip onto the rail of the stairwell the two of you are standing in, biting your lip and eyes clouded with lust. Toto leans in closer, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Mmm, you’re not here for the cars, are you?” He nips at your earlobe, his large hands squeezing your sides. “I must admit, I’m glad.” His hands slowly slide down to your backside, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You know, I've seen you around the paddock before," he murmurs, "But you've never caught my eye like this." His fingers trace the hem of your skirt, teasing the skin beneath. Toto's touch grows bolder, his hands sliding up your thighs and lifting your skirt. His touch is gentle, yet firm, commanding your body to obey. "I want you," he growls, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "Right here, right now." His large hands grip your backside, lifting you up and pushing you against the cold metal wall. His body grinds against yours, his hard length is obvious through his tailored suit pants. "Wrap your legs around me," he demands, his voice low and gruff.

You comply, wrapping your legs around his waist as he hikes up your skirt. His hands slip under your thighs, spreading you wider. He grinds against you again, a low growl escaping his throat. "You feel that?”

"That's me, wanting to bury myself deep inside you." His lips claim yours in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth. His hands release your backside, unbuttoning his suit pants and freeing himself. He tears your underwear aside, his thick tip prodding at your entrance.

If you had a clear head, you’d never be here, in this place and under his grasp. It’s a mistake to feel the warmth from his skin. He’s the big bad Wolff, and you know it, but like a moth to moonlight, you still find yourself drawn to him.

“I hate you,” you murmur as he slides the head of his cock over your slit, using your slick as lubrication.

He smirks at your desperate whimper, the head of his cock teasing your entrance. "Mmmm, that's what I thought. You need this, need me to fill you up and make you forget everything but my name."

You sigh out dreamily and struggle to not buck against him, your heart pounding heavily in your chest. You grip the rail even tighter, your fingers running over the worn away paint. “Shut up and fuck me.”

Toto chuckles darkly, relishing your desperation. "As you wish." With one swift, powerful thrust, he sheathes himself fully inside you, stretching you deliciously. He sets a hard, fast pace, pounding into you relentlessly against the wall. His powerful body slams against yours, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the garage. He looks down at where they're connected, his thick length disappearing into your tight, soaked pussy. "Fuck, you're so damn tight. I can feel your little clit rubbing against my pelvis with every thrust." Toto's pace intensifies, his hips snapping forward with brutal efficiency. The stairwell fills with the vulgar symphony of your moans and the lewd squelching of his cock pistoning in and out of your dripping cunt. "Take it," he snarls, his voice raw with lust. "Take my fucking cock, you desperate little thing. You're mine, right here, right now." He reaches between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it furiously in time with his thrusts. The coil of pleasure in your core winds tighter and tighter as Toto works you relentlessly. His cock hits that perfect spot inside you with every plunge, and his fingers on your clit have you seeing stars. "That's it," he grunts, his thrusts growing erratic, as he chases his own climax. "Come on my cock, now. Fucking come all over my dick like the desperate little slut you are." His words are the final straw, and you shatter apart, your pussy clenching around his cock in a vice-like grip as you scream in ecstasy. Toto hilts himself deep as your pussy spasms around him, triggering his own intense orgasm. He groans long and low, his cock pulsing as he pumps you full of his hot, thick seed. "Fuck yes, take my cum. Milk me dry with this greedy little cunt." As the last of his release finds its way into you, he buries his face in the curve of your neck, his ragged breaths fanning across your damp skin. "Good girl," he praises, nuzzling against you. His lips find yours in a softer, more tender kiss than before. Gently, he unwinds your legs from around his waist and sets you down on unsteady feet. He rights your clothing, smoothing out wrinkles and tucking you back together. "There you are," he says softly, tucking a strand of hair back into place. "You're perfect." Toto steps back, tucking himself away and rebuttoning his suit pants. He straightens his tie, regaining that air of refined composure he usually carries. "Now," he says, all traces of the crude, demanding lover gone from his voice. He reaches out, gently cupping your cheek. " You, my dear, will go to the team dinner and pretend we both didn't just get up to no good in this stairwell." His thumb brushes across your lower lip, his eyes smoldering with barely restrained desire. "But don't think for a second that I'm done with you. Later tonight, I expect you in my hotel room. We have unfinished business to attend to."

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