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edensrose · 13 days ago

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𐔌 𖹭 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐 ˖ ࣪✧

ᡴꪫ. part 2 & oral, curse gave him accidental aphrodisiacs oh nooo 𖹭 f. reader ˖ ࣪ꮽ˳

˖ ࣪ 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕. ۫ ۶ৎ the reception for part one was pretty good so I made this a lil longer. eat up ૮𐔌ᡘ ´ ˘ `๑꒱ა !

satoru gojo still won't let you suck him off.

you're on plan f after yet another failed attempt of tending to his morning wood. or maybe it's plan g if you include your attempt at sixty-nining? maybe plan h for thinking handcuffs could hold him? your pussy's still aching after that one. you're starting to lose hope.

but who thought help would come in the form of overworking and curses. two banes in your relationship with the strongest sorcerer — ended up being the ace up your sleeve.

the front door shuts. you brace yourself for warm arms and hearty kisses all down you neck. instead - slump. a sudden weight nearly bucks your knees and you push back to stabilise.

"satoru?" your eyes flutter wide and you spin to the boneless mess that is your boyfriend. blindfold pushed further into tousled hair. no grin, only a low pout. his face warm, bright pink. blue eyes like murky oceans as his forehead slumps into yours.

you don't quite notice the tremble on his lips, or the hitch of his breath when you press closer.

"baby . . . "

"oh toru, you look exhausted."

your tender hands become his sanctuary. his face buries into them while you stroke your thumbs along his cheekbones. dinner would have to wait, your boyfriend needs a shower and sleep.

he's panting, he must be beyond fatigued.

it's what he adored about you; how you took care of him. he — a behemoth next to you, and yet you so dutifully ushered him into the bathroom, helped him into comfortable clothes and laid him on his side of the bed.

"I'll be right back, yeah?" your hand strokes through his hair to lay a kiss on his forehead, before you're off. so blind to the way his fingers thread along your shirt's hem as you part. almost pleading, needing.

satoru groans and tucks his face into the pillow. he feels every breath, every twitch. it's far too warm in these four walls for winter. he just showered but his skin feels clammy. the air in his lungs shallows.

your pillow - your scent. that expensive floral perfume he insisted on buying for you. it does more harm than good. he barely even realised that he'd slowly, sloppily shifted it between his legs. one small roll of his hips devastated him. his head falls into the sheets. another groan. this is torture. how is he already so hard? how is he already throbbing into the fluff —

"toru?" that soft voice will be the death of him. he shakily casts a glance. tries to mouth an apology and fumble your pillow away, but you're over him in seconds. "are you okay? what's going on?"

so understanding. so caring. his throat bobs as he melts into your weight on his back and the thumb on his cheekbone.

"really weird curse today," another throat clear. "so tired. fuck, I didn't realise it even hit me. just feel s'hot, baby. so hot." as if he wasn't sorry for it in the first place, his hips stutter on your pillow again.

it clicks. how glad you are he isn't facing you. the grin you muster is both parts evil and mischievous. as if you cherry-picked the curse on his latest mission. perhaps the universe really is on your side.

"so hot, toru? let me help . . ."

his eyes snap open wide. he knew the second he felt your sneaky palm cupped over his bulge, he just signed his soul off.

and right now? he's too weak to fight you on it.

head tossed back. white strands strung over his sweat-glistened forehead. the pink dust painted into a hot, red blush over his face. every second breath warrants a gulp. wrists tied - frankly loosely - to the headboard. it didn't matter. satoru gojo didn't have his strength in this moment.

"shit - sweetheart - hah." your tongue traces on the lithe bump just below his cockhead. your lips join the mix in a slow suckle. coating his dick in gloss with every tentative movement of your mouth.

you giggle as his hips buck. nimble fingers squeeze around his dick's base you can just barely wrap your hand around. "yeah? you were depriving yourself of this all along, you know."

you smooch a sweet kiss to his tip. slow, sensual, before you start sucking down. from the angle you witness his pretty blue eyes flutter rapidly and nearly roll back. muscles tense as he tugs on his binds. how easy it would be to snap them. if every inch of his body didn't feel on fire. if every little lick and suck didn't have him spilling like a fountain.

"don't . . . 'ont, baby." he struggle through a taut jaw. your lips swiftly trace back down, along that one, throbbing vein on his underside. before your tongue presses flat and strokes a long stripe back to the tip. your hand follows the motion in a jerk. he whines.

"fuck. wait. don't - I — "

velvet wraps around his angry, hot tip once more. this time you take him deeper. push the plush head to the corner of your cheek then withdraw — then back again, this time down your throat.

satoru's eyes widen. pupils blown out. his mouth hangs agape as he focuses his remainder strength on not fucking his dick down your throat. his hands clench. his chest stutters. balls tighten as a release quickly builds, tight in his gut. every bob of your head is a sinful image. with your lips stretched round his girth while you gaze at him through sultry lashes.

fuck, he can't do this. he shouldn't - "babbyyyy," he whines, breathless, pitched. "gotta stop - fuck - gonna cum. please."

pop! you part with a pant while your hand mindlessly keeps a fluid stroke. "why?" airy, near-cruelly, sweetly. "why won't you let me? why are you stopping me?"

"want you t'feel good - wanna make. . . wanna make you feel good too -"

"I do feel good, satoru."

his breath hitches. you give him a glossy smile and trace kisses in a tender circle over his cockhead. together with a squeeze and a thumb stroking vertically onto that prominent vein, you croon.

"feel so good when I'm making you feel good. promise you're not selfish. please? I just wanna show you how much I love you."

another kiss. he's teary with need. it's the aphrodisiac. that damn curse. making him weak, making him vulnerable. but maybe . . . it's worth it, if it's for you,

maybe feeling good isn't such a sin, if it's you.

"okay," he gulps. throat tight. lips trembled. "okay, sweetheart. I'll — mngh!"

it's quite possible all six eyes rolled back. his hips jerk at the sudden warmth engulfing his dick. you took him back down your throat with ease. hand messily pumping on whatever you couldn't fit as you dutifully got to work. head bobbing, cheeks hallowing. how could you possibly be patient?

for months he denied you. half the year, even. deprived you of taste. of the satisfaction to make him feel good. his retribution will come in the back of your throat. his plush, throbbing tip hits it repeatedly and he squirms from the overwhelm.

"baby - fuck-!" snap. one bind falls from his wrist. instead of pushing you away this time, his fingers delve to your scalp and hold. tightly. hips fall into rhythm. he fucks your throat in a way you could only dream of for months. till your eyes are rolling back with his.

spit and slick drip to his thighs. down your chin. a mess you're proud of. you'll pull back to suck near-suffocation on his tip then dive back down when a familiar throb alerts you.

"gonna - g-gonna - shit - babbyyyyy," a small arch finds his back. his hips sloppily, pitifully try to match your pace. his balls throb again. tighten. his tip pulses. he aches in heat, in pleasure. jaw taut and head flung back as you take him higher - and higher — until finally,

"fuck, yes yes yes like that fuuckk."

he bursts. thick ropes of cum cream the back of your throat and your eyes flutter in a sinful display. whites clear with your irises rolled back, but you're still so eagerly gulping him down. every drop. you're sure as hell not wasting after finally getting a taste.

satoru limps. boneless. for once in his life he cannot see anything at all. only white, hot pleasure as his body reels from the intense, blissful tides. every muscle gives out. his hand flops over your head. his hips so needily grind up a few more times. he's lost. shattered.

and you still have the nerve to slowly part with the sweetest kiss to his tip. with a smile so angelic. like you hadn't just crawled from the depths of hell.

his gaze slowly eases to you; your tongue is awaiting. poked from your glossy lips with a glob of his cum trickled. his mouth parts at the sight. eyes crease and squeeze as he tries to catch his breath.

"finally." you croon, gulping down the final wad as you lean over and brush your lips to his. "see baby? see how good I feel when you're feelin' good?"

the wet patch on your panties flushed to his throbbing cock hitches his breath. he deeply groans. nods his head and weakly cranes into you.

"I get it now baby, I get it."

white lashes flutter. he looks at you as though you hung the sun, moon and stars. his lips pull into a tired pout.

"now can you get over my face? need my sweet pussy too."

͝ ⏝𝅄︶ ͝ ⏝ ⊹ ⏝ ͝ ︶𝅄⏝ ͝

ꘓ 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 : @downpourz @unadulteratedtranquility @meosq @k0z3me @le0na2 ۪ ୧

#. ۫ ۶ৎ . 𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 '𝒏 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 ﹕ satoru gojo ꒱ . ˚◞✧#gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #satoru gojo smut #fem reader

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dmitriene · 6 months ago

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cw: omegaverse, knotting, breeding.

alpha simon riley coming back to the base after being away on recent mission, it's been too long, enough so you, his omega, would grow unsettled and worried, needy in the absence of his warmth beside you, made to sleep alone, grappling at what remained from his addictive pheromones on the sheets and couple of clothes, and just as you started losing it slowly, the heli with his team finally came back.

you're the first to welcome him, shoving through other soldiers and the captain, lumbering towards his solid frame, gear grimy, stained here and there with dried blood, some dust, his usually masculine scent thicked with sweat, gunpowder, so easily detectable and comforting it's makes you purr, stumbling against his muscular chest, clinging to his vest with tight, clenching fists, and he accepts your weight easily, throat rumbling with familiarity, masked face nosing directly in yours.

simon knows how much you missed him by your actions alone, the way your body shakes with the force of your own rumbling purrs, how you nuzzle in the crook of his neck, trying to stick your nose under his balaclava, clawing and scratching with your trembling fingers, high on the adrenaline just because he's finally here, your alpha, your throat tightening on a small, feisty growl when he tries to put you back down, already in his quarters.

you don't let him go to take a shower so easily, not until he takes care of you like he should, because you waited so much, all of his clothes and sheets now soaked fully by your cloying scent, something animalistic in it, doubled with excitation, and simon turns his head to the little chirp you let out, a purr, a whimper, stretching out on his bed, presenting, ass up with a tentative wiggle, glancing back at him with needy, wide on plea gaze.

simon fullfill's your every need, knowing how you missed cumming on his fat, engorged knot, with how pliable and wet your hole are, split wide to accommodate the girth of him, veiny and throbbing, jamming rough and deep against your spongy spot, making you tighten, bring him close to the point of filling you full of his cum until your tummy would ache, cunt pulsing and clamping with short pulls around his growing knot, welcoming his release against your cervix, the wrecked growl from his throat.

you remain tucked under heavy, fluffy blanket while he takes a shower, body twitching in the aftermath, feeling how his cum dribbles in frothy, creamy globs out of your hole, trailing down your thighs, squished together, lidded eyes barely open by the time simon comes back, sliding in beside you, cradling you close, arcing a calloused thumb over the fresh, swollen teeth dents on your mating gland, before pressing you even closer, his chest purring in response.

main masterlist. quidelines.

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classyrbf · 6 months ago

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SHE'S A SUCCUBUS! — CHOSO KAMO

SYNOPSIS...as a sex demon, she can always sense the horny virgin boy who’s dying to lose his virginity

INFO...choso x succubus!reader, sub!choso, virgin!choso, somnophilia, riding, overstim, creampie, oral (m!receiving and f!receiving), slight ass eating, cum eating, doggy, squirting, choso is super needy and eager, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Choso always felt left out when his friend would constantly talk about all the girls they’ve been with, all the experiences they had and what crazy shit they always got into. He’d just sit there, silent. He couldn’t relate to them not one bit. The closest he’s ever to having sex is his right hand or a sex toy. No girl ever looked his way, and his confidence was crushed. They’d only go after his friends, practically drooling over them. Not one of them spared a glance towards Choso.

He was begging to lose his virginity, dying to know what real pussy felt like, how soft tits felt in his hands or even some ass. God, don’t even get him started on wondering what it feels like to receive head. His friends swear it’s the best thing ever as long as the girl knows what she’s doing. He always watches porn, the women on their knees, slobbering all over the man dick like it was some divine dessert. He loved watching the way their pussies wrapped around the mans dick, just imagining how wet and warm it is. He was a lost cause. At this point, he was ready to pay someone to take his virginity. Literally.

And just like any other night, he goes back home, ready to fuck his fist to another average porn video before dozing off to sleep. He’s been extremely horny lately, more than usual and he can’t understand why. Not to mention the wet dreams he’s been having, waking up to cum in his pants like he’s a damn teenager. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, feeling the need to cum more and more everyday.

Hours later, he’s fast asleep, tossing and turning as he has another wet dream of someone riding him. He can’t make out her face, but it feels so damn real. Everything does. Even her moans and the weight on top of him. “Mmm,” he hums. His brows furrow. He can even hear the sound of skin on skin. His entire body feels like it’s on fire right now, like he’s been hit with some sort of sex pollen. It’s more intense than ever.

Little does he know it’s not a wet dream, no, it’s you. The succubus who’s been watching him for weeks, feeling his urgency to cum, to lose his virginity. He’s summoned you without even realizing. And now you were riding him, gliding your wet pussy up and down his aching cock while he slept, waiting for the moment he wakes up and realizes he’s no longer a virgin. He twists and turns when you run your clawed nails down his pale skin, smiling at the way he moans and whimpers in his sleep.

Choso couldn’t take this overwhelming feeling anymore, forcing himself to wake up, prying his tired eyes open. But the feeling doesn’t stop. The sounds don’t stop. And certainly the woman is his dreams doesnt disappear when he opens his eyes. “Wha—ah—what? Who…? Oh fuck!” He rasps, eyes darting around the room and over your naked body. “What the fuck? Oh my goddd.” As confused and scared as he is right now, he can’t escape the pleasure coursing through him right now.

“Shhh, shhh, just let me make you feel good. You’ve been dying for this haven’t you? I’m here to give you exactly what you want.” You slightly lean back, spreading your legs to let him get a clear view of the way your pussy sucks his cock in.

He looks at you with awe and confusion, but he can’t help but give in, moaning so sweetly when you fully sink down. “Who…who are you?” He gasps, eyes widen when you clench your pussy around him.

“I know when cute virgins like you wanna lose their virginity. You summoned me, accidentally. You’ve been so worked up lately, huh? Well,” you smile, “that was because of me.” His cock twitches inside of you, your hips bouncing faster and harder, watching the way he mouth falls open.

“Fuck, fuck! It’s feels so good,” he heaves, breathing heavily. His cheeks dusted a light pink. “I don’t wanna cum just yet, please slow down. Please, please—nnghhh, fuckkkk.” Choso didn’t stand a chance, shooting sticky ropes of cum into your pussy, his entire body quivering with how intense his orgasm was. “Please, slow down—ah, oh my god. It feels too good—” His eyes rolled into the back of his head as you kept fucking him.

“I’ll keep fucking you till there’s nothing left.” You lean forward, pressing your chest against his, placing your lips on his while you kiss him with such fervor, with such sloppiness. His hands reach down, gripping the plush flesh of your ass. He swears he’s in heaven right now. This can’t be real. No way a sex demon was taking his virginity right now. His dick was so sensitive, but still so hard. He knew he had so much cum left, the only thoughts he had were to fill you up over and over until it was dripping out.

He felt like he was losing his mind, fucking him so hard, creating a sloppy mess where you two met just so you can get him to cum again. Your devilish yet sweet giggles send chills up his spine and straight down to his already throbbing dick. With labored breaths, and his heart rattling against his rib cage, he already knows he’s going to cum again. So soon. “Come don’t hold back on me. I want it all,” you growl in his ear. “I’ll do whatever it takes to empty you dry and fuck you stupid.”

His trembling fingers grip onto your ass harder as he cries out, broken moans swallowed by your kisses and he can’t help but cum again, filling up your tight pussy to the brim. You pull away from the heated kiss looking at the way his hazy eyes stare up at you with such desperation. You halt the movement of your hips and get up from his lap. “No, no, wait. Where are you going?! Please, keep fucking me.” He sits up, watching you get on your knees. Poor thing looks like he’s almost about to cry.

And now he can get a real good view of you. The tail that swayed around and the small little horns that pointed from the top of your head. You really were a sex demon. Your hand took a firm grip on his throbbing cock, his tip leaking like it was begging you to make it cum again. “I can see your thoughts. Your nasty little thoughts.” You run a long stripe from his balls all the way to his tip, licking the excess cum off. Your tongue was freakishly long, but god did it feel so good on him. You spit on his cock, massaging it in as you stroke him, moving your hand in circular motions that make his hips jump. “Say it. I know what you’re thinking.” Your lips curl into a smirk, running the pad of your thumb over his slit.

“Put…put your mouth on it, please,” he says barely above a whisper, too shocked to even form proper words.

“Louder.” You massage his balls with your free hand, earning a guttural groan from him.

“Please, put your mouth on it! Fuck, I wanna know how good it feels!” His lip quivers, his breathing quickening the closer your lips get.

“Good boy.” You smile, darting your tongue out and wrapping it around the base of his cock, swirling it around the head before you take him in your mouth. You stare at him through thick lashes, bobbing your head up and down his thick shaft, spit spilling from the corners of your mouth. Glug, glug, glug.

The sound of you choking on his dick was like music to his hears, taking his all the way down your throat with no problem. How is he supposed to keep up? His brain is fried and his body already feels so weak from cumming two times in a row. But he can’t stop. It’s like you’ve put some kind of spell on him to make him want more. “Shit, I’m all the way in,” he gasps, fall back onto the pillows. You pull him out of your throat, string of saliva connect from your lips to his cock as you continue stroking him. You were so messy, so nasty, but he loved it so fucking much because this is always how he’d picture it.

You spit back on his cock before taking him down your throat again without warning. “Oh my—fuck me, I’m gonna fucking cum again!” He whimpers. His body jolts and his abs tense up at the sensation, pleasure shooting through his body like electricity. He’s so sensitive he can’t help it. His hips buck up into your mouth and next thing he knows, he’s cumming down your throat. “Nnngh shit!” He groans, each orgasm more intense than the last. It’s like as time goes on, he can’t help but get more horny, more greedy.

Within seconds he’s pulling you off his dick on bending you over, pulling your ass in the air. “I’m sorry, I can’t stop, I can’t stop, I can’t,” he’s muttering to himself, sweat dripping down his body. He pushes every inch into you with such ease, like your pussy was made for him. “Feels so good, feels so good I can’t stop stop,” he cries, rummaging his hips into you, fucking hard and fast.

“You’re learning so quickly.” You smile from below him, pushing your ass back against his hips. He watches the way your ass bounces back on his dick and he becomes mesmerized. “That’s it! Fuck me harder. Show me how badly you wanna cum in my pussy again,” you giggle.

Choso pushes your head into the mattress, broken moans falling from his lips. “I need it so badly, so fucking badly.” Your pussy grips him like a vice and he hisses at the tempting feeling.

“Make me squirt all over your cock! Come on, fuck me like you mean it!” You grip the sheets below you, feeling his swollen head press against your sweet spot over and over with each grueling thrust. Upon hearing your words, Choso remembers all those videos he’s watching of girls squirting, and to make you squirt just because of him makes his brain fuzzy. He keeps the same pace, huffing and panting when your pussy grows tighter. “Yes! Yes!” You laugh, sighing in relief when he pulls out and clear liquid shoots from your pussy, coating his cock and sheets.

His eyebrows raise in amazement. “Holy fuck,” he watches the way your pussy leaks before urgently ramming his cock back inside of you. “Do it again. Squirt all over me again! Please! It’s so fucking hot!” He begs as he pounds your pussy like his life depends on it. “Wanna watch you—nnngh—squirt again!”

As if on cue, your pushy gushes around him again, soaking his thighs and his cock and just the sight of it makes him cum so hard he’s toppling over you. “Fuck! I’m cumming!” He thrusts deep inside of you, making sure not to waste even a drop. “Yes, yes!” He huffs, bucking his hips. “I need to taste you, need to fucking—mmm.” He drops to his knees, pulling your ass back against his face while his tongue slurps every drop his cum and your juices, licking through your sloppy folds and sucking on your clit.

“Eager little thing, aren’t you? Such a good, good boy.” You praise, reaching behind you, taking a fistful of his hair and pushing his face deeper into your cunt. His moans at your taste, his free hand reaching down to stroke his swollen and sensitive cock. He moves his tongue up and down, running back and forth between your clit and your ass, and back down to your hole. You quickly pull him away before sitting up.

“Did I do something wrong? Why’d you stop?” He looks at with sad eyes.

“You’re done.” You look down at his cock.

“No, no, I’m not. I promise I still have more. Just keep fucking me, let me eat your pussy or something! Don’t leave!” He pouts, watching you crawl towards him.

“As much as I’d like to keep playing with you, you’re all out of cum, pretty boy.” You smirk. “I’ve got other desperate virgins like you to attend to.” You ghost your lips over his and Choso leans in for a kiss but you pull back from him. “You’re welcome.”

You disappear into a dark corner in his room, like you faded away into it. He runs to turn on his light and sees you’re completely gone. He’s at a loss for words, standing in the middle of his room completely naked. He looks towards his bed, seeing the wet spots you had left. So it was real? No? Yes? He didn’t know what to believe. He accidentally summoned a sex demon to take his virginity. If only he could do it again.

#—☆classyrbf #jjk #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk smut #choso x reader #choso smut #choso x reader smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x reader smut #choso kamo smut #choso smut oneshot #choso kamo smut oneshot #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut oneshot #jjk choso #choso kamo

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circusclownproductions · 1 year ago

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seeing a lot of videos that are like “I didn’t know babies couldn’t have water” so here’s an incomplete list of things you need to know before having a baby

- the obvious, they can’t have water bc milk is incredibly high in water already so excess water leads to over hydration

- babies cannot have honey until 1

- if ur breastfeeding your kid and saving excess milk, make sure you label what you pumped in the morning vs at night bc your body produces different melatonin levels throughout the day and giving your baby daytime milk at night can make them more alert and fuck up their sleep schedule

- idk why ppl keep saying this but swaddling your babies or getting them those baby straight jacket things is not abuse. It chills them out cuz it reminds them of the womb

- babies have a dandruff like buildup on their head called cradle cap, and it’s very easy to deal with and remove with just some baby shampoo, a gentle scrub brush (MADE FOR BABIES!!) and a comb. It does need to be removed tho cuz it can be very painful after a while. This can also continue to happen late into toddlerhood it’s normal

- you have to clean out the creases of your baby’s skin and hands and feet they WILL collect dust😭😭

- you cannot bathe your baby until their umbilical cord naturally falls off. Use a warm damp rag until then

- tummy time is actually very important

- your baby might have a misshapen head at first (not all the time but sometimes) this will either sort itself out or they’ll need a corrective helmet ask your doctor

- I wouldn’t recommend having your baby leave the house very much until they’re at least 6 months old, especially if they’re born near cold and flu season cuz the common cold can kill a newborn

- you’re not an awful horrible person for having postpartum depression and it’s always a million times better to let your baby cry a few minutes longer than normal while you regain your composure than to freak out and give ur kid shaken baby syndrome

- you’re not an awful horrible person for giving your baby formula milk either

- don’t put shoes on your baby it’ll compromise their toe box and balance

- babies put every single thing in their mouths

- the easiest way to burp a baby is to hold them straight up (spine straight) and hold their head a bit higher

- always support their head they barely have necks

- if your baby fights away food, fights tummy time, vomits every single time you burp them, is gaining or losing an unreasonable amount of weight at a time, wheezes after eating, or goes red after eating, chances are they’re probably allergic to the type of milk they’re eating (again ask a doctor but these are just some signs it’s not just colic)

- they will wobble a lot when learning to do things but you gotta fight the urge to help them every single time cuz they gotta learn

- they’re not always spitting out baby food cuz they don’t like it they just don’t know how to eat. Like they don’t know how to push food down they only know how to stick their tongue out so be patient

- babies craniums are broken up into three parts at first that later fuse together, this is to help make birthing easier but it results in a small EXTREMELY sensitive spot in the top of their head that has no protection. This puts their brain at a high risk. Always protect their soft spot

- read to your baby!! Get cute bright colorful sensory books with sight words and read them to your baby it makes such a huge difference in their educational growth and will help them acquire a love for reading early on. And talk to them never shut up just say whatever comes to mind all the time this will strengthen their vocabulary growth also.

- babies poop like a lot. A lot. an unreasonable amount. Bring back up clothes and more diapers than you think

- no pillows or stuffies in the crib and only use a muslin blanket unless it’s especially cold to prevent suffocation

- babies kick reflexively until they’re out of their newborn scrunch (they stay womb shaped for a while) and if your baby is crying and pushing at the swaddle try letting them flail around for a minute

- consoling your baby is not spoiling them ! They need comfort and they will learn to self soothe on their own

- singing lullabies actually works, they can recognize your voice a consistent place of comfort from the womb and the cadence of lullabies is literally engineered to create a calm headspace

- for the love of god do not get boring ass beige toys. Colors are important for their neurological development

- babies are very responsive to praise from a young age so be as supportive of them as you can

- babies get constipated a lot and you have to do like tummy massages to help ease their pain the easiest way is to lay them on their backs and hold one foot in each hand, kick their feet like bicycles, scrunch up, and then stretch their legs out

- holding them on your hip too much will not cause bow legged-ness if your baby is bow legged that was always gonna happen

- they drool so so much and you have to get bibs for them so they don’t get chest eczema

- don’t use scented products on their skin cuz their skin is sooo much thinner than ours

- when your baby first starts sitting on their own never walk away from them without setting up a nest of pillows and blankets around them. Even minor head trauma can mess them up sometimes

- this one is kinda morbid and scary but sometimes babies just die out of nowhere and it’s no one’s fault or anything it’s called sudden infantile death syndrome(SIDS) and it’s about 1.3k deaths on average per year in America so not super common but still very real. 90% of these deaths happen during the first four months however edit: apparently it’s bc of an enzyme deficiency which at the very least you can take steps to try and prevent

- smoking and drinking during pregnancy WILL affect your baby and your breast milk and also might contribute to SIDS cases

- babies sometimes have a big red mark on them somewhere called a stork bite immediately after birth but typically it goes away

- babies can’t see very well for a while after birth and they’re VERY wobbly so they’ll typically bonk their head into your chest and face a lot while trying to support themselves

- female babies might have smth similar to a period the first few days after birth, this is because of the hormone transfer that happens during the birthing process and the days leading up to it

- male babies get random erections for the first few days after birth(hormone transfer again) literally do not be weird about this it’s a baby

- things like weaning your baby onto solid foods, potty training, weaning off pacifiers etc, can actually be directed by the baby and will happen naturally will minimal guidance from the parent(some guidance is still necessary) although I would do individual research into baby led weaning for food to prevent choking

- get those chewy feeding pouches to help with weaning

- the most random things will scare the hell out of your baby don’t take it personal 😭

- baby carriers are life savers (tulas are one of my favorites)

- once babies hit toddlerhood they’re tougher than you think, and a lot of their reaction is based on YOURS. they’re always going to be looking to you for how to react to a situation. Remain calm and if they’re ok they’ll calm down but if they’re genuinely hurt they’ll keep crying

- babies will most likely get ridiculously attached to an inanimate object and you have to keep this thing intact at all costs until they’re old enough to abandon it or they will throw a FIT. I got a lemur plushie from a zoo once and every single one of the kids has bonded their soul with it until about 6 years old and once a month I have to stitch him back up

- don’t compare yourself to other parents. Maybe your kid isnt getting grass fed wild caught north Atlantic cheerios but at least they’re fed. If your kid is alive and healthy and happy you’re doing a good job

- you will need 3 car seats, an infant seat, a grow with me toddler seat, and a booster seat

- getting a good diaper bag is a MUST

- the hair a baby is born with will most likely all fall out or they’ll get a bald spot on the back of their head where they sleep cuz their hair is so fragile and thin but once it grows back it grows back thick

- get like 20 muslin blankets so you always have a backup when the main ones are covered in spit up

- the babies grip IS stronger than yours (keep your hair up and keep pets away best you can)

- your best bet for your teething baby is a pacifier you can put your finger in so you can massage their gums and some chewing toys numbing cream can be dangerous and should be used sparingly

- go ahead and come to terms with the fact you’re gonna have to use a Frida Baby to manually remove snot

- babies can get hair and thread wrapped around their toes and fingers that can cut off their circulation try to make a habit of checking

- don’t hit your kid please it’s nothing but trauma and fucked up coping mechanisms from there pls empathize with your child they’re a person too

- be careful not to pull too hard on their arms and legs(like during play or holding their hand while they walk) and NEVER pick them up by their hands this will very easily cause dislocation

- they might have a little tooth like callous on their lip from their pacifier. This does not hurt them and it will go away but it may hurt during breastfeeding

- breastfeeding will make your boobs different sizes

Yeag that’s all I can think of rn but yk i Will add as I remember stuff ppl are also adding things I forgot in the tags in case you’d like to look thru that as well <3

#🍱#baby care #parenting #first time parents #newborn care #parenting tips #can’t think of any other exposure tags #‼️‼️‼️

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sodapoppp · 2 months ago

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˚୨୧ 𝗷𝗼𝗲𝗹 𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗿 ⋆｡˚ ⋆

a list of my favorite joel miller fan-fictions ༊*·˚

౨ৎ getting the poison out by @cum-a-calla

"in which you’ve been acting up all fucking day and Joel has to put you back in your place with a punishment tailored to fit the crime."

౨ৎ ride by @beardedjoel

"you try to grapple with feelings for your parents' friend while getting absolutely railed by him"

౨ৎ just this once by @punkshort

"After yet another argument with your dad, his buddy across the street is there to help make you feel better."

౨ৎ ain't right by @celiababy

"You have a major (borderline obsessive) crush on Joel, and you're on a mission to fuck him."

౨ৎ rotten by @alltheirdamn

"Joel decides to surprise you with something nice, but you're not in the mood. He's quick to fix your attitude, and put you in your place."

౨ৎ an old toy by @ilikemenolderthanmyfather

"Joel gets kidnapped and used like a toy, and best of all, he gets the save a hoarse ride a cowboy treatment."

౨ৎ bigger in texas by @gutsby

"Joel won't fit."

౨ৎ i know who you are (series) by @punkshort

"A fall on patrol causes you to lose your long term memory, forgetting the identities of your friends and loved ones. You have to learn all over again how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and you learn things about yourself along the way."

౨ৎ made of ice by @starlitscars

"One stormy night in the safety of Wyoming, it occurs to Joel that even though life has turned his heart into a slab of ice, there's a soft, melting spot buried deep inside... Only reserved for you."

౨ৎ stiff by @gutsby

"At fifty-nine, Joel isn’t sure his dick can keep up with every day it’s going to take to get you pregnant. He seeks help from Jackson’s local apothecary and gets more than bargained for when that little blue pill kicks in."

౨ৎ independent contractor by @lady-djarin

౨ৎ fine line by @paulyenvol6

"Very angsty and lots of dom!Joel with daddy vibes and subby reader."

౨ৎ shaping you by @joelswhcre

"joel miller teaches you pottery, but his hands are more interested in molding you than the clay. slow, teasing, and messy in all the best ways."

౨ৎ sleepless nights by @preciosapascal

"another sleepless night in jackson for both you and your neighbour Joel."

౨ৎ hunger by @joelswhcre

"you wake to the weight of joel miller between your thighs, hungry and aching to claim you. he’s been patient, but now? now he’s going to take."

౨ৎ keeps you up all night by @joelswhcre

"joel wakes up hard, again. and there’s no way he’s letting you sleep through it."

౨ৎ world's worst chauffer by @ilikeevilblondes

"Joel Miller, your dad's best friend, ends up getting roped into picking you up from a party. Without the key to unlock your house or anybody to let you inside, Joel offers to let you sleep at his place for the night. Needless to say, the both of you don't do a lot of sleeping."

౨ৎ texan tensions by @pedroscowgirl

"Your dad's buddy learns you how to play the guitar"

౨ৎ breaststroke by @ilikeevilblondes

"Joel, single dad extraordinaire, is struggling to teach his daughter how to swim. You end up teaching Sarah over the course of a few weekly swimming classes. One fortunate day, Joel accidentally stumbles upon a rather intimate situation involving you in the shower rooms after hours. He’s about to leave, but right before he can, he hears his own name spilling out in a desperate moan from your lips."

౨ৎ i will not ask and neither should you by @cherry-coloureddfunk

"you should have hated him"

౨ৎ drabble by @daryltwdixon

"angsty Joel thinking he doesn't deserve you"

౨ৎ somehwere only we know by @josephquinnswhore

"joel has been the only constant in your life since you’ve been at Jackson. But you don’t know if you deserve him despite his persistent efforts."

౨ৎ borrowed time by @aurorawritestoescape

"Joel and you are enjoying an ideal vacation together. Warm ocean, white sand, soft kisses, and hot sex make it feel like paradise. But as your time here is running out, the thoughts that you‘ve been trying to keep at bay start eating at your soul."

౨ৎ how the cookie crumbles by @egcdeath

"when you come back home to austin to help your sister with her bakery, you end up in an arrangement with your high school crush that ends up being far more than you bargained for. "

౨ৎ a glimpse of heaven by @ozarkthedog

"joel secretly watches you shower."

౨ৎ damp, dirty, his by @pascalispimp

"Joel’s been through a lot, but mysteriously damp flannels? That’s a new one. When he sneaks home to investigate, but what he finds is far filthier than he imagined. His housemate’s got a thing for his shirts… and from the way she’s moaning into one, she’s got a thing for him too. And Joel’s got every intention of making it worse."

౨ৎ dream scape by @joelswhcre

"it’s just a dream—you’re sure of it. because there’s no way joel, your best friend’s dad, is actually between your legs, making you fall apart on his tongue. right?"

౨ৎ give up by @talaok

"Once again you've found an excuse to invite your neighbor over, except for once you might be able to make him look past your age difference and have a little fun."

◡◡◡◡◡◡◡◡◡◡◡◡

-> as i was curating this i realized most of it is smut... i promise ya'll i do not have a problem

-soda

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #fanfiction #fanfic

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alexispunkkk · 3 months ago

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back where we started

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

- pairing: dark!joel x fem!reader

- summary: joel is a horrible partner post-outbreak. he yells. isn't too nice. fucks.

- warnings: dark!!! dubcon, slapping, choking, hair tugging, unprotected piv (don't do this guys!), smut smut smut smut, degrading, yelling, no established relationship, rough sex, crying, unsafe sex, angry sex, joel has crazy anger issues, blood, huggeee nasty age gap (legal, though! your choice for age), public / outdoor sex, size kink, joel's got a massive dick lols, power imbalance, submission, no aftercare, squirting, dirty talk, thigh riding if you squint, manhandling, joel is just incredibly mean. total asshole.

- word count: 4.5k

- author’s note: feining for mr joel miller recently so i wrote this... my first joel fic!! its gross yall. have your fun though!

—————————————୨ৎ

Partnering up with Joel Miller wasn’t ideal. He’s always looking at you like you’re some problem he doesn’t know how to solve – like you’re just cargo he’s exhausted of having to drag along.

You don’t want to admit it, but he’s honestly an asshole. A real fucking dick, a mean bastard. To everyone else you meet, you’re a well loved, sweet girl. To Joel, though, you’re a burden. He’s a miserable person, and hanging around him only came with the positive that he knew how to hunt, how to keep you decently safe. But, hey, it’s better to be stuck with a brute of a man than to be infected. Right?

For whatever reason, the frustration has been building worse than usual for the past few days. You move like you’re on eggshells, do anything to not upset him, stay quiet when you’re asked and obey his every order. But it’s Joel fucking Miller. Nothing is ever enough with him.

You’re young, but that's not a valid excuse for Joel. He expects as much out of you as he would another man his size and seniority, which is totally unfair of a girl your age.

So every little mistake ticks him off. Really riles him up. His temper is really fired up today for whatever reason, and you’re trying your best to not exacerbate it.

—————————————୨ৎ

Joel should know now your most common flaws – he does pay attention, but that mind of his was too preoccupied with his fresh plan to head east to remember just how forgetful you tend to be.

You remember twenty minutes after you leave. Everything is packed up, rifle on Joel’s thick shoulder, sleeping bags taken from Bill and Frank’s now deserted house strapped to your backs. Everything but one thing. And arguably, the most important thing for the new change of route.

“Can y’get me out the map, girl?”

Girl. He always insists on calling you that. Rather derogatory, like he doesn’t wanna address you by a human name. Just girl.

At the question, your steps stutter. A little patch of dirt kicked up from your shoe hits the back of Joel’s calf, earning a soft grunt. “You fuckin’ deaf now? I said gimme the damn map.”

He knows what your silence means, and in that moment he's about to lose his goddamn mind. His feet stop bluntly, his large, brooding frame turning to face you.

Your pace slows soon after him, halting to a nervous stop while your gaze flickers from its usual spot on the ground up into his dark eyes. A warning look.

“Better not tell me you lost the fuckin’ thing.”

No words come out of your mouth, let alone even pop into your head; all you can seem to do is stare up at him like a mindless idiot, his height towering over yours when he takes a small step closer.

Again, your steps follow, this time backward. You stumble back half a foot, a twig cracking under the shift of your weight. Out of nervous habit, your left hand reaches for the right wrist, gently stroking the skin to keep yourself somewhat calm.

“Joel, I didn’t–”

His movements match your own, his large, calloused hands lurching forward to rip your hand off your wrist. It gets replaced with his own grip, but much tighter. Aggressive. Taut. Outraged.

“Y’didn’t what? Didn’t think for once how t’not be a goddamned idiot?” He snarls, his untamed fingernails digging into the skin for a moment and leaving tiny crescents into the first layer. “Why d’you always gotta be like this, girl? Fuckin’ stupid…”

He trails off, removing his tight grip on your forearm, but not without hostility. He lets go but ends it with a good yank. Not hard enough to pop it out of place, but hard enough to get a quiet whimper out of your shy throat.

You never know what to say when he gets like this. Whether to defend yourself, whether to stay shut up and take the tirade. But you sure know well enough not to fight back – that’s how to get your arm pulled out of the socket.

“I–I swear, Joel. I had it, I don’t know where it went.”

He never takes your stupid excuses. They’re useless, he’ll never believe you. He knows that you know you forgot it at the last spot you camped out. And this time, the excuse was a pathetic mumble, your eyes glued at your wrist and the mark he left when he gripped it. Even more to make your pitiful case unconvincing.

“Yeah, the hell you do. Quit lyin’, you know damn well where that map is.” He scoffs, brushing past you with a shove to the shoulder, his larger figure knocking you a few inches with a soft oof. “Back in the woods where you left it, ain’t it?”

Of course, you can’t plead your case anymore. You give in, nodding in submission and trudging after him once he turns around, back in the direction where you surely left the damn map.

“...Yeah.” You murmur, rubbing a dry hand across the bottom half of your face, against your snotty nose. Not because you’d been crying, this is nothing from Joel yet. Just because the month has been terribly cold and sleeping outside every night isn’t doing you well. “At our last camp. M’sorry.”

“Always fuckin’ sorry. Sorry for almost gettin’ yourself killed, sorry for forgetting somethin’ again and again. M’sick of your shit.” He grunts, readjusting the rifle strapped over his shoulder.

When you first met him, words like that got to you, as much as you hate to admit it. But now, everything seems to fade together. He’s just Joel. That’s how he is. And you’ve gotta live with it and try your best to not piss him off.

To your luck, he shuts up and stops berating you – at least until you’re close to the previous camp spot. Just silence, interrupted only by the awkward shuffling of your steps behind him, desperately trying to keep up with his longer strides and stay quiet to not worsen his anger.

But when you get close enough and he has to start looking for the damned map, his mumbling and annoyance boils over once again, infiltrating the somewhat comfortable silence that your ears just got used to.

“Map was the only fuckin’ thing getting us around… no goddamn compass.” Joel mutters under his breath. Not at you, for once, but just a natural spilling of his frustration. He’s always gotta be mumbling about something, even in his sleep. “Slow me down enough as is. Gotta lose everythin’, too.”

You joined aimlessly behind him, searching around the patchy grass, anywhere for the map that was stressing him out so terribly.

Minutes go by. He’s getting angrier by the minute, his hands flexing while he crouches down and searches. Mad, but still pretty tame for a pissed-off Joel Miller.

That is, until he glances up and actually gets a look at you for the first time in an hour. He normally avoids any eye contact, avoids even peeking over at you. At that damn little frame… so much younger, sweeter. He seemingly hates having you around because you always tick him off, but what he hates more is the temptation that comes with having a pretty little girl by his side at all times.

He finally lets his eyes fall on you. But this time, he can’t even get his usual peek at your lips or neck, because something else catches his eye. A familiar shred of paper – just the fucking corner – poking out the zipper of your backpack.

He genuinely slaps himself in the face, eyes turning dark and fists curling up in pure rage at the sight.

“Are you fucking kidding me.”

He growls. Not a question, but a threat. His eyes are black at this point, breath speeding up while he takes another step toward you. Not cautious like he’ll sometimes let himself be, but warring.

You’re confused for a bit, as you hadn’t seen the map in your own bag. Or even thought to look before you turned around and walked a half hour back, a complete waste of your time. “Oh…”

He starts again, his voice much lower than usual. Dangerous.

“You wanna tell me…” Joel breathes, stepping towards you even more until he’s got you backed against a tree. Bark pushing your shirt and jacket up, scraping at the bare skin of your lower back. “Why the hell we just wasted an hour of our time, when the map was practically right in your fuckin’ hand!”

As he curses, your heart drops. You don’t have time to react before his hands are up, flying at you. You flinch, thinking they’re coming to hurt you, but they’re reaching into your backpack.

And sure enough, there it is. The map you spent so much valuable time fussing over. Right on your damn back.

‘I didn’t know, Joel. Didn’t think to check.” You whimper and choke out from the back of your throat, weak and apologetic. Again, he’s not one for excuses and apologies. He’s on you before you can even think, hand forcing the map in your face.

His palm hits your mouth when he shoves the paper, a direct blow to your jaw. Your lip comes in forced contact with your bottom row of teeth, tearing the skin and swelling instantly. The only thing that can escape your mouth now is a pained whimper, which agitates the furious man on top of you worse.

“Fuckin’ idiot. Wastin’ my damn time like always. Do you ever think?” He scoffs and backs up, maybe half an inch.

When he notices your slightly busted lip, it brings him a sense of triumph. You ticked him off and now you’re gonna pay for it. And you sure enough feel guilty enough to not stop him, so he’s got you trapped now.

You’re frozen in place against the tree, refusing to move or utter out even the smallest of another noise. Suddenly, Joel’s mind is more occupied by the girl under his grip, shaking like a damn leaf with a bleeding and busted lip.

“Asked you a question, little shit.” He grunts and lets his hand venture up to your jaw, pushing it around like a toy before settling with a tight grip, squeezing your cheeks and watching how the blood oozes from your lip at the pressure. “Said, do you ever fuckin’ think?”

Sure, he’s yelled at you plenty, disciplined you, maybe put his hands on you out of frustration a couple of times before. But it never feels like this. His hands usually let up after they land on you, but now he’s squeezing at your face and looking into your hazy eyes as if this is a challenge.

“Mm.” You whine, throat bobbing while you adjust to the feeling of his huge hand gripping your face. “N-no.”

Your voice is only the softest of a mutter.

“Speak up, girl. Didn’t hear ya’.” He rolls his eyes, giving your face a nice knead and jerking it to the side to jolt you up more.

A shuddering breath leaves your mouth, head jerking to the right at the flick of his wrist. He holds it against the tree, your ponytail getting caught on the rough edge of the bark, the lumber scraping your ear.

“No. Don’t–don’t ever think enough. M’sorry. Wasn’t… wasn’t thinkin’.”

You sigh, head lifting up while you feel the familiar sensation of your throat tightening up, eyes starting to burn. But you keep it in.

Joel hums, jerking your head again and shoving it harder onto the hard bark. “Damn right. Don’t think. A fuckin’ burden on me.”

He’s not doing it because he’s mad anymore. Hell, he’s already forgotten about the stupid map that caused all of this. He’s doing it to get a rise out of you.

And you know that’s all he wants.

His gaze is different, his tone similar to but not matching the genuine anger you hear from him most of the time. There's a hint of more challenge in it, maybe even passion. The hand on your jaw only confirms that.

“Shoulda’ left you behind when I got the chance.” He mutters, knowing that threatening to leave you really gets under your skin. Honestly, he’s all that you have, and you’d be dead without him. So that always seems to hurt a little more than some name calling.

You don’t react, gulping and keeping still at his arduous words. Getting no reaction from you riles him up worse, his free hand coming down to strike at the wood above your head. You flinch, and a tear unpromptedly rolls down your cheek. You don’t feel it until Joel curses, laughing in disbelief and moving his hand from your jaw down to your throat.

He squeezes. Not tight, not yet. A groan escapes his throat, low and almost pained. And before you know it, he’s got his body pressed against yours, rubbing you uncomfortably into the rotting tree.

“Such a fuckin’ mess.” He grunts, one hand around your throat to cut off any words and the other moving to your chin to move your gaze up to him. “Cryin’ like a baby when you were the one that lost the map.”

Your pulse jumps when he degrades you, and he swears he sees something else in your eyes this time. Not the usual fear, but something that looks like arousal.

It sparks something in him, and he wants to see it again. His hand tightens on your neck, earning a pained gasp from your pretty throat. Your eyes lock, and he watches your head tilt back against the tree, your eyes fluttering slightly.

He can’t take much more. A tiny whimper comes out of you when his knee presses against your thigh.

That’s it. That’s fucking it.

Joel growls. Low. Frustrated. He gives up on the choking, instead gripping the back of your head and taking hold of your messy ponytail. He tugs, tilting your head more, his big aquiline nose moving down to bump under your ear and rub along the cold curve of your jaw.

“Fuck’s wrong with you?” He whispers, his unkempt scruff that he calls a beard brushing up against you, scratching deep into the skin he just had a hand wrapped around. “Feel you gettin’ turned on. Fuckin’ slut, getting all worked up when I’m angry with you.”

You can’t do anything but take his advances and cry softly, feeling the cotton of your panties dampening each time his gruff voice comes out against your ear, his harsh breath biting at your neck.

“Don’t got time for th’shit.” He mutters, but you hear his resolve dropping. He’s getting less and less frustrated over you wasting time, but more frustrated over the fact that he’s got his knee between your legs and he can feel the heat seeping through the fabrics, even in the biting cold weather. “Don’t got time for you makin’ me… makin’ me–ngh.”

His words stop, replaced by a low grunt into your ear the second your body even twitches against his. The grip on your ponytail tightens, tugging backward and earning a needy whine from you.

As much as he wants to keep degrading you, making you feel worthless under him, he’s feeling pretty pathetic himself. And he never gets like this with women.

His nose bumps your ear one more time before he can’t take it – his lips crash into yours. It’s not friendly. It’s not intimate. It’s fucking rude.

He intrudes, letting go of your hair and grabbing your body instead to push you against the damn tree harder. Mouths battle, and he wins, nipping hard and tasting the metallic blood from where he busted your lip earlier. Yum.

“Joel.” You whimper, finally. It’s music to his ears, but he can’t show that. He has to be tough, not show that he’s into this. Not into the young girl he’s supposed to be training.

Joel grumbles, bringing a hand up to mindlessly slap at the side of your face at the sound of your whimper.

“Shut up.”

And you do.

You’d do anything he told you right now. The feeling of him slapping you, biting your lips, pressing his thick knee between your thighs has got you absolutely pathetic. It’s fucking disgusting, you know that. To be so grossly into the fifty-six year old man that’s been taking care of you, the one that relentlessly bullies you and makes you feel like a worthless burden.

But you like it. You’d be anything for him, even if it meant being a worthless, pathetic burden.

Joel’s got control. Obviously. His hand that slapped you runs over the heated skin in the same spot, almost to soothe it. What a gentleman. His lips slow on yours for a moment, latching onto the neck he had his hand around earlier instead.

In the deep woods, the only sounds heard are the birds above and his angry gasps against your skin, breathing like a madman. The softer sounds are interrupted by one of his belt clinking, being unbuckled mindlessly. And then the rustle of fabric. And then the unfamiliar sound of denim against Joel’s rough skin.

He’s straining against his boxers. Hard. Harder than he thinks he may ever have, but you don’t know that. You can tell he’s big through the fabric. It’s a thought that’s crossed your mind maybe once or twice, but you would never have expected for it to be pressed against your thigh, dangerous amounts of precum slowly leaking through the thin fabric of his briefs.

You distract yourself while he gets busy attacking your neck and working your pants off – you don’t wanna believe it. Joel Miller is about to fuck you. He slapped you, choked you, degraded you, sure. That’s believable. But now he’s going to fuck you with that giant cock of his.

As if it helps you not give in too much, you look everywhere to try and distract yourself. Down. His boxers read CALVIN KLEIN at the top. Up. The top button of his flannel came undone. He’s got a lot of chest hair. Behind him. There’s a bird watching him gnaw at your neck and tear your pants off, watching his bulging cock rub against your covered thigh.

And the map is on the ground behind him.

“Fuck you lookin’ at?” He finally interrupts your private session of ‘I spy,’ breathing heavy against your skin and cupping your clothed cunt through your panties. “Look at me.”

You look up, gaze locking with his again. His eyes are equally as dark, but not with anger anymore. Desire.

He’s gripping extra hard, hands splayed across your waist – almost big enough to wrap around, to grip you real good. Joel’s eyes travel all down your body in ways he’s only ever dreamed of, your pants torn down and now discarded on the forest floor.

“Gonna fuck the stupidity right outchya’, yeah?” He chuckles, hoisting your body up to keep you settled between him and the tree. “‘N I want you lookin’ at me while I do it, kay’, girl? Eyes up. C’mon now.”

You can do nothing but oblige. Your eyes dart up, staying on him, even when he pulls his cock out that you so badly want to get a look at. The sound of him stroking himself, little grunts escaping his throat mindlessly, is so fucking tempting.

But you listen, eyes staying on him, hoping to get some kind of praise from him for the first time in your life. Or maybe you want to keep getting debased. Maybe both. You seem to like the shame of it.

“Gonna fuck you s’good you never forget anythin’ again. M’still pissed about that map, y’hear me?” He grunts, lifting you effortlessly to move his cock up into place. He’s so strong, and you’re so little. He can manhandle you however he wants, use you for his pleasure. And maybe you want that.

From your mouth slips an obedient hum, your head shaking in a little nod so he knows you’re listening. You swear you see the corner of his mouth quirk up in a smirk, but he replaces it within half a second with a grumble to maintain the tough guy look.

His cock meets your slick after he pulls your panties to the side, not bothering to take them off. You’re not worth the time. Not after wasting that time with the map debacle.

The pulsing head of it drags along your slit, collecting a bit of you on the tip, making a filthy mix with his precum. It’s been a minute since any intimacy for Joel, but he can’t let you know anything. Can’t show any kind of vulnerability. He keeps it in, biting his lip and grunting to avoid any embarrassing soft noises.

“Ain’t stoppin’ if you can’t take it, by th’way.” He grumbles into your ear, his tip just barely edging into your soaked cunt. You whimper, and he squeezes your waist in warning. If he didn’t have to be holding you up, he’d have hit you again.

But, the soft noises you let out make him want more. You seem to let them out when you’re scared – or maybe it's out of arousal. Only from when he totally degrades you. He doesn’t care, he just wants to fuck you senseless.

“Could break ya’ if I wanted. Little… tight fuckin’ pussy.” He groans, head hitting the tree next to yours when his cock finally slides in. It was a fight to get in, your tight walls not stretched enough for his fat dick to fit due to your lack of experience. “Take ya’ how I fuckin’ want.’

If this was any other man, you’d cry and beg for him to stop. But Joel. It’s Joel. Joel fucking Miller.

It hurts, but his threatening words seem to egg you on. They prod you to take it, try harder to take the thick cock that’s splitting your body right in half.

He doesn’t start slow like some guys. Joel doesn’t start slow. Ever. Joel Miller fucks, and he fucks how he wants. This isn’t about you, this is about him getting his worth back after you wasted all his damn time.

His hips slam into you at an alarming pace, no time for you to stretch out and adjust to the movement. He’s already hitting deep enough to where, if your shirt was off, you could see the print all the way in your stomach. But no. Your shirt is on. Joel Miller doesn’t care enough to worry about a shirt, that’s foolish. He just wants pussy – no, needs it. He’s a man with priorities.

You’re screaming, pain and pleasure. Usually he’d tell a woman to ‘shut the fuck’ up for being too loud, but you’re in the middle of the woods. Nobody around, except for the same fucking bird that’s continuing to watch you get destroyed and ripped open by a fifty-six year old. Great.

“God, baby. You’re fuckin’ helpless.” He grunts into your neck, resolve slowly slipping more. His noises get worse, louder. He doesn’t care enough anymore to pretend like this is some chore.

He’s fucking you and he means it.

Joel’s hips stutter after a few minutes, just in time with your own. Synced up perfectly. His rhythm is getting out of pace while you feel the pull deep in your core you haven’t felt in so long – white hot pooling in your stomach. You clench around him.

He can’t speak anymore, just like how you haven’t been able to for minutes now. All he can manage out are little grumbles into your hair, squeezing your body while he struggles with words. Getting pathetic himself.

“Fuckin’-- mm. Baby. Baby. Gon’cum soon.”

At least he warns you.

You could tell, anyway. The stuttering of his hips, the way he’s only hitting nice and deep now. But you’re in worse, you can’t warn him because your mouth is hung open entirely, spilling out the most pitiful string of moans that doesn’t seem to ever end.

Without warning, you clench again. He groans, but gets louder when he feels you spill. Burst. All over his aching cock.

“Shit, shit. You – you squirtin’?” Joel grumbles out, body spasming at the feeling of your liquids all coming out at once. Your legs are shaking, and he feels his own limbs join in. It was too much for him.

He cums. Hard. Maybe harder than he ever has before, but you don’t have to find that bit out.

The moment melts into a disgusting mess of simultaneous moans, whimpers, even from Joel. Despite the cold weather that was almost making you sick earlier, you feel hot. Sweaty. Both of you.

Joel’s head comes to rest atop yours, stroking the back of your ponytail that he’d been tugging at the whole time. And for a moment – just a short moment – you thought he’d maybe take care of you after. Like a real man.

But no. Apparently, you don’t know Joel well enough by now. He’s his own kind of man.

Once his breathing returns – somewhat – he’s back to ole’ Joel Miller. Grunts, huffs and drops you down by the tree. Tucks his spent cock back in. Before you know it, before you can speak, his pants and belt are back in place and his rifle is strapped back on his shoulder.

Your eyes shut, back scraped up from the rough tree he fucked you relentlessly against. Taking a shuddering breath, you rest for a moment, thinking that if he didn't give you any aftercare he’d at least let you have a moment to breathe.

But again, no.

“Fuck you doin’?”

Your single moment of silence is rudely interrupted by his southern drawl, entirely back to normal as if he didn’t have the most intense sex of his life only two minutes ago. As if forgetting it ever happened.

And the map is back in his hand. And he looks so normal compared to you. And it makes you want to cry for whatever reason.

There’s nothing else to do but hold back a pained whine from the soreness already building in your body, the blood you feel dripping on your back from the tree, and the metal taste of blood where he hit your lip. The slap on your cheek. The handprint on your throat. Fuck.

“C’mon, little shit. Gotta hurry. Now you wasted an hour of my time.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut #joel miller smut #degrading k1nk #choking #manhandling #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #the last of us #tlou #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou joel #joel x reader #fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader

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oceantornadoo · 6 months ago

Text

dubcon, objectification, forced (?) threesome, f!reader

they say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.

ghost finds you ten months after your divorce, nursing a drink in a shithole of a pub. he doesn’t consider himself a good man, licking the tears on your cheeks when he fucks you for the first time, ignoring your whines of how “it’s been a while” and you’re “too tight.” he doesn’t like to keep birds around longer than a night, but something about how you wrap your leg around him in the morning makes him stay a little longer.

he lets you call him simon after you whine that you “can’t fuck him without knowing his name.” it takes a bit, but you get used to sleeping with someone who isn’t your ex-husband. he calls you bird instead of sweetheart, love instead of darling and after a while, the word honey loses its significance. when simon tells you he’s military, you try to leave his bed, only for him to pull you by the thigh, apologizing with his tongue in your cunt. simon doesn’t date and you aren’t ready for it, content to stay in your respective apartments, living for his occasional half-smiles and usual gruff admonishments. its a bit new to simon - he’s used his camera app more in the past weeks than he has in years. always pictures of you: his cum on your tits, the bruises he leaves on your hips, a rare photo of you sleeping. he even lets you corral him into taking a cheesy mirror picture, his arms dwarfing your waist with his face tucked into your neck, your jawline exposed as you turn to kiss his cheek.

it’s two months later when you promise to cook him a meal for the first time, a sunday roast he hasn’t tasted in years. “better not take too long, bird, ‘m starvin’.” simon murmurs in your ear, hands squeezing your stomach and waist as you fumble with your keys. “i’ve had it slow cooking before i left for yours last night. it’ll put us in a food coma.” you finally put the key in the lock, turning it with force before simon decides to fuck you against the door. he dips to bite your neck, sending you into your apartment giggling, swatting him off you. the weight of your divorce is finally off your shoulders, happy butterflies fluttering in your stomach formed by simon’s continuous presence.

the butterflies die when you see a familiar pair of boots at your door.

“stay here.” you order simon, a change from your usual dynamic. you can’t focus on his reaction, set on edge by the sounds of pots clanging in your kitchen. there’s no point in creeping - he knows you’re here. you turn the corner and there he is - your ex husband. “you’re just in time, sweetheart. nice ‘f you to make a roast.”

john’s standing there like he owns the place, like he knows this kitchen he’s never been in. he’s boiling potatoes on the stove, keeping an eye on the slow cooker timer. he’s even poured himself a fucking drink, a scotch he had to have brought since all you have is wine and simon’s whiskey. all smug and entitled in his civvies, commanding the room like he pays your rent. he's still as handsome as ever, darker eye bags the only indication he's been losing sleep.

“what the fuck are you doing here, john?” john doesn’t answer immediately, instead using a fork to test the potatoes. satisfied, he takes them off the burner and turns to the sink, dumping them out in a prepared strainer. “‘s our anniversary, sweetheart. thought that’s why you made the food.” you can sense simon still in the doorway, his presence unknown to your ex. it gives you strength, a guard dog at your back, and comfort that he’s letting you run this on your own. “our anniversary ended when we signed the papers. i don’t know how you got in here, but you need to leave.” he frowns at you and it almost tugs at your heart strings. your brain conjures images of his coldness and constant distance, and you shut that down real fast. unfortunately, he doesn’t get the memo. john takes a step closer, hands up like he’s approaching a wild animal. “honey, i-“ and that’s when ghost steps out of the darkness.

there’s a long pause. it boosts your ego a bit, showing john you’ve moved on, until the silence is so long that you start to worry. you chance a look at simon’s face and find it confused, not at all the guard dog you thought he was. a glance at john’s reveals the same. you’re about to ask your question when they answer it for you. “captain.” “lieutenant.” “what?”

the transformation happens in an instant. both men straighten to their full heights, wiping any emotion off their faces. their brows furrow as they flex their hands to control their instincts. how could you not see it before? simon only mentioned he was military, but the stamp of the SAS is clear as day. it was in the harsh lines he carried, a companionship with death, not unlike the one john had.

john started first, of course, always having to take control of the situation. “you fuckin’ my lieutenant, sweetheart? miss me that much?” you rolled your eyes at his cruel words, inching closer to simon. “whatever we do doesn’t concern you.” you emphasized the “you”, spitting it out with venom. john hums low, making you nervous. you turn to simon, but he's quiet and calculating, communicating silently with his captain.

"didn't know you had a wife, sir." you answer before john can. "we divorced a year ago." john chimes in. "to the day, actually. she served me on our anniversary." simon looks down at you, the man you thought you knew now gone. his eyes are black pits, targeting you like you're prey. "that's cruel, bird." you sputter, backing into the kitchen cabinets. you walk until your back hits the sink, each man on either side of you. john has his arms crossed and head cocked to the side, like you're about to get chewed out by the school principal. simon looks...no longer human. unrestrained. whatever spark you two had has gone out, replaced by sheer loyalty to his captain. "show the captain what he's been missin', love. y've been starvin' him." he moves at lightning speed, picking you up and dropping you on the island counter, sunday roast long forgotten.

"simon?" he doesn't answer, scarred hands squeezing up and down your body as john watches from behind him, arms crossed and eyes searching. your mind is telling you one thing but your body wants another. some twisted part of your brain reminds you that john came to visit on your anniversary, even though you threw him out a year ago. simon's no better, coaxing your sweater off your torso, leaving you exposed in a lacy bra. your nipples harden and john sees, making a clicking noise with his tongue. "warm 'er up, lieutenant." simon obeys instantly, pulling down the cup of your bra to suck on your nipple. he's ravenous, no sunday roast in sight, and he's decided you're his meal instead. he sucks hard, a calloused hand reaching up to pull your other tit out so you're fully exposed to your two men. he squeezes it with reverence, rolling your nipple between his fingers as he sucks hard on the other one, not minding his own teeth.

it's dirty - watching john watch you. you hadn't fucked in the last months before the divorce. he was always too busy, on base or deployed, and you were so angry you couldn't let him near you. now, your ex-husband moves closer, taking in the sight of his lieutenant feasting. "miss me, sweetheart?" you shake your head on instinct. he sighs at your attitude. you're seated on the corner of the island, perfect for john to come up on your side, one large paw making its way towards your jaw, turning you towards him. "say it." you shake your head again. john sticks a thumb into your mouth, pushing against your teeth. you try to force him out, but simon bites your tit, making you gasp and let john in anyways. you suck his thumb defiantly, gazing at him with all the emotions you can't convey.

you look so pretty like this, john decides. laid out for his lieutenant, taking his orders as well as your emotions will allow. he decides to forgive you for your indiscretions with ghost - at least it was with one of his own men. they're practically an extension of himself. john hooks his thumb into the gap between your tongue and teeth and pulls, forcing you right into his space. "i reckon your cunt's nice an' wet, though. should i check? know she's missed me even if you won't admit it." your eyes go wide, giving him an answer he already knew. simon follows orders well, manhandling you into position by yanking off your jeans. there's a wet spot on the light fabric of your underwear. john can practically see your cunt clinging to it, begging for him to say hello.

"want ya to take 'em off y'self, bird." simon's finally speaking, the glaze in his eyes fading. he looks at you, then his captain, and it makes sense. how you're used to being led but refuse it all the same. how you're desperate for affection but won't date him because he's military. you're scarred from the chains of your marriage, so it only makes sense that he's the one you seek out - the opposite of husband material. more dog than human on his worst days. simon stares at you until you follow his command, meekly lifting up your hips as you take off your underwear. your cunt is sopping, in a way it only does when you’re ovulating, practically begging for it. your ex-husband whistles through his teeth like he’s praising a recruit. “knew she’d be happy to see me. hullo, darling.” you can’t find it in you to cringe. john starts running his fingers through your folds, inspecting, and all you can do is stare. stare at the veins in his forearm. stare at simon behind him, eyes trained on his captain’s movements. stare at the counter where your juices start to gather and wonder how the hell you got into this situation.

“pinch ‘er tit an’ watch ‘er flutter.” simon’s callous with his instructions but john follows them anyway, his unoccupied hand reaching up to pinch your nipple. you can’t help the gasp that escapes you, the way your cunt flutters around john’s fingers. he hums thoughtfully. john decides you’ve been good, if not a bit quiet, and presses his thumb against your clit as a reward. he starts rubbing in that pattern that would get you off without fail during your marriage. he fits one finger into you easily as you grip the counter hard, the sudden sensation overwhelming. simon peers over his shoulder like a fucking scientist. “‘f she gets bratty, i pull back the hood til she screams.” like your cunt’s a machine and they have the two pieces of its manual. john’s movements are making you desperate, hips starting to buck against his fingers. he chuckles and adds another, not hiding a smile when you sigh in relief. simon’s hands come to your waist, helping you fuck yourself on price’s fingers. it feels so wrong, having them barely listen to your pleas, and yet being under their watch is the most right you’ve ever felt in your life. that’s what brings your orgasm - not john’s thick fingers on your cunt, his rough thumb in your clit - but two sets of hungry eyes on you, like you’re their last meal. john fucks you through your orgasm, simon not letting you out of his grasp until tears start to form, the embarrassment of your own wetness coming to the front of your mind. john slowly removes his fingers and brings them to simon’s mouth to taste, not satisfied until his lieutenant hums in agreement. the two men turn to you, naked save for your disheveled bra around your waist, somehow making the scene more depraved.

“‘ow ‘bout that roast, love?” simon murmurs gruffly.

good thing john never signed the divorce papers.

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mostly-imagines · 1 year ago

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Moonstruck

jason todd x reader

aka sober thoughts and all that

warnings: intoxication

Jason has a thing about drinking around you. He’d kind of skirted around it for a while when you were first dating, but after a while you’d noticed he never really has more than a drink or two regardless of how much you had. The only times you ever see him drink more is when he’s downing whiskey as a pain mitigater when he needs stitches. You’d initially assumed he just wasn’t a big drinker, but eventually you’d come to realize it was more of a matter of not wanting to lose his inhibitions around you.

You know he’s still working on trusting himself, even sober, because he’s terrified of accidentally hurting you. But you have a hard time imagining him losing control like that in any state and you’re nearly certain he’s just being hard on himself.

You’ve been falling in and out of less than peaceful sleep for the past few hours, having trouble easing yourself while your boyfriend is still out. You at least attempted to get to bed earlier tonight because for once he isn’t out fighting crime and risking injury, though you haven’t found much more luck than usual.

You lie on your back, half ready to give up and turn on a movie while you wait.

You’re momentarily startled to hear Dick bellow out your name, no regard for the fact that it’s nearing three in the morning and you have neighbors. He’s not much of a shouter so you’re instantly on alert, worried that he or Jason are hurt.

You fumble out of bed and rush to the living room, surprised to find your fire escape empty. You turn, proceeding towards the front door, opening it cautiously.

“Dick? What—” You don’t need to finish your question because the second you take one good look at the two of them, the state of them is immediately clear. Dick, who’s barely standing upright on his own, supports your boyfriend's weight via Jason’s arm slinged around his shoulder.

“Hey!” Dick grins at you, far more lively than he has any business being this late at night. “Sorry, couldn’t remember which apartment was yours.”

You nod pensively, “Well the perspective’s different than when you’re coming in through the window.”

He continues on past that without thought, “I’ve come to deliver,” he says, gesturing up to Jason with a bit of a strain. You’re pretty sure there were supposed to be a couple more words at the end of that sentence but you understand well enough anyway.

You nod, eyebrows raised and try to hide a smile. “Thanks, Dick.” He shifts your boyfriend off of his shoulder to lean him up against the door frame, where Jason places a majority of his weight.

You eye him warily, not confident in his steadiness. He seems to hold well enough against the heavy door though, his eyes drifting around the tiled floor. Your attention shifts to Dick, who’s clearly satisfied with a job well done and ready to go.

You tilt your head, seeing him turn away. “You good?”

“I’m great!” He calls out with a thumbs up. You watch as he staggers away, nearly missing the exit.

You look back over at Jason, who’s already staring at you with a soft gaze. “You’re pretty,” he fawns, irises blown out and flickering all over your face.

“Oh you’re drunk drunk.” You grin, watching him stumble forward a bit.

He shakes his head, looking a bit dizzy after, “Shoulda seen Tim.”

You pause mid laugh, “…Who drove you here?”

He falters at that, gaze falling to the floor. “Uh…” He winces, “Damian…”

You nod slowly, eyes wide, “We’re gonna talk about that tomorrow.”

“He’s better than you’d think.” You’d hope so.

Well, at least he’s spending time with his brothers.

You sigh, straightening your posture in preparation for the job to come. “Alright, come on big guy,” you pull him up from his slant against the wall, hauling him into the same position he’d been in with Dick—though you’re struggling significantly more to hold him upright. “You gotta help me out here, Jay,” you grunt, trying very hard not to fold under his weight. You swat the door shut behind you, making peace with the fact that he’ll scold you in the morning for not locking it.

He presses an uncoordinated kiss to the side of your head as you try to shuffle him along, not interested in the least in easing your labor. His self discipline isn't quite gone, but his awareness of how big he is sure seems to be.

You wobble from the heavy weight of his arm around your shoulders, holding onto him by his waist. You manage to get him to sidestep your cat, narrowly, though Salem hisses at him all the same. Jason takes no notice. You stumble into your bedroom with only about 30% of his usual balance aiding your effort.

He collapses onto the bed the second his legs hit the frame, pulling you down with him. You lie, somewhat awkwardly, on his chest as he holds you tight—probably tighter than he would if he were sober. It feels nice though.

You lie your cheek flat on his chest, relaxing against him. “What’d you guys do? Thought you were just having an easy night.”

He takes a deep breath before answering, “Raided Dick’s liquor c—” he stops, mulling over his words. “...Bruce’s liquor that was in Dick’s cabinet.” He annunciates every word in that sentence very carefully.

You squint speculatively, “Didn’t take Dick for the stealing type.”

He grumbles, “He’s not. ‘Less it’s Bruce.”

You can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face, “Aw, you really do take after your big brother, don’t you?”

He scoffs at that, “I don’t. I’m the one who gave him the idea.” Yeah, that sounds right.

He taps on your cheek lightly and you pick your head up to find him looking at you with puppy dog eyes.

“What’s that look for?”

“Can I kiss you?” his eyes drop down to your lips, “I really wanna kiss you.” He’s nearly whispering and you feel your heart skip several beats at the feeling of his eyes on you like this.

You press a light kiss to his lips and he practically purrs.

You pull back, admiring the serene expression on his face. “You taste like whiskey.”

“I like whiskey,” he says honestly.

You smile, nodding. “I know. Don’t know why, but..”

He leans in for another kiss but you parry, only letting his lips meet your cheek. He frowns grimly, attempting to chase your lips.

“Lemme kiss you,” the pout on his face is adorable and while you hesitate to deny him, you retreat, resting your chin on his chest.

You smile wistfully, tracing his cheekbone, “You’re drunk, baby.”

“‘M not that drunk,” he tells you, though everything about him says otherwise.

Your hand falls flat on his shoulder. “Your eleven year old brother drove you here.”

He shrugs, “He can drive the bat…batcar? Bat…”

“Batmobile,” you finish.

“The batmobile.” he nods, as if he was seconds away from remembering. You suspect he wasn’t.

“Bruce lets him drive it?” you question, wholly disbelieving.

“No.”

Enough said.

“You’re gonna be hungover as hell in the morning,” you mumble, taking in his uninhibited demeanor.

He nods that off, “‘S okay. You’ll be here, right?”

You tilt your head, observing him chalantly. “Where else would I go?”

His arms snake tighter around you at that, giving you a little squeeze before relenting.

“I wanna marry you,” he murmurs, brushing your hair out of your face and tucking it neatly behind your ear.

You blink rapidly a few times, “What?” You push yourself up on his chest, sitting up on his abdomen.

“Wanna marry you.” He repeats, eyes lidded as he breathes easy under you. “You’re m’favorite person…want you t’be my wife.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. “..You want me to be your wife?”

His lips are slightly parted and his pupils are wide as he stares up at you, taking in your features carefully. “‘Course I do.” He brings his fingers up to your cheek, touching you softly with all the wonderment of a little kid. “You’re so pretty.”

You’re quick to return, “So are you.” Especially right now.

He shuts his eyes momentarily, shaking his head morosely, “You gotta stop bein’ so nice t’me,” he lets his hand fall to rest on your thigh. “Don’t deserve it.”

“Shut up,” you lour, “You deserve it more than anybody.”

“No. Not more than you,” his hands knead at your thighs like it’s an instinct. “You deserve everything.” He closes his eyes, tilting his chin up as his head sinks further back into the pillow. “Think I’d do anything you wanted.”

“Jay—”

He continues on, “Want you t’be happy. Wanna make you happy.”

Your face falls into an expression of dazed awe, “You do make me happy.”

He dwindles at that, “No, really happy. Take care of you. Build you a house, give you babies. Wha’ever you want.”

He paws at your thighs, trying to get you to come closer again to him. You lay back down on top of him and his hand instantly buries itself in your hair, stroking softly. “You’re just…you’re so perfect…” He turns his head to mumble against your forehead, “Feel like I dreamed you, sometimes.”

You breathe deeply against the crook of his neck, eyes feeling glassy. “I love you.” It’s all you can get out, and it’s not enough, but it’s all of it.

“I love you,” he says like he’s trying to turn it into gospel. “So much. I love you so much, so fuckin’ much.” His words start to get lost in his weary babbling.

Your chest feels full and you can distinctly feel every beat of your heart against it. Or maybe it’s Jason’s heart. But what’s the difference?

You press a tender kiss to the nape of his neck. “You’re really sweet when you’re drunk, you know that?”

He hums lowly, head lulling against yours.

You still for a second, finding his breathing has slowed and his hand has seized its movement in your hair. His soft breaths fill the air as you press a kiss to his collarbone before settling in completely. “You’re gonna love when I tell you about this in the morning,” you whisper, letting your eyes shut too.

💗 likes are the poor mans reblog 💗

#jason todd loves his gf #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd/you #jason todd imagine #jason todd/reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x y/n

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lipsent · 4 months ago

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SHOW ME WHO YOU ARE .ᐟ ── PITFIGHTER VI. been wanting to do something like this for a while now omg. i keep thinking about @shouyuus’s work and i decided to make my own version, because … i have rotted for far too long over this woman and i cannot lose any more sleep.

TAGS . . . 18+ !!! , f.reader , meeting at the bar , drunk vi , but she sobers up as she fucks you , vi yearning for you .

+ @eveningatthemoviesnetwork @thehoneypotserver @pixelcafe-network <33 tysm guys

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI probably spotted you across the bar she always crashes into after her bloodied wins. she’d definitely give you a look and continue to stare even when you catch her, her eyes darkened and her brows furrowed as if she’d met you before and that non-existent encounter held a gory weight.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI pushed past all the people dancing and flailing around just to get to you. some poor guy even tripped and fell on his ass just from her drunken shove alone—and seeing as she too were fighting ghosts to keep from swaying, it couldn’t have been that strong of a push. then again—this is vi, the pitfighter champion.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI somehow had the balls to let loose in front of you while you were trying to dance by yourself. you surprisingly didn’t mind despite how heavy her glances were, and it was almost telepathic how you both communicated wordlessly when you allowed her hands to rest on your waist.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI kisses like she didn’t wreak of cheap liquor, her tongue nearly pinning your own down from how aggressive she was with needing to feel you on her. chest to chest, she supported your back when she continued to push against you like she knew she had this horrible habit of greed, of needing everything from something as sweet as you in three seconds, physical limitations be damned.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI cursed herself when she grabbed your hand and led you back to her room, knowing exactly how disgusting and grimy her sweat-filled bed was and had of course decided she’d rather get a slap to the face for even thinking you’d ever lie down on that thing than not try at all. what do you take her for, a madwoman? with a girl like you, she would be if she didn’t take you somewhere when you gave her enthusiastic consent.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI seems like she’s begging to get lockjaw when her tongue swirls anxiously around your clit, every so often flicking upwards in that sweet spot she’d discovered made you squeal and arch your back. how you reached new heights in both your moans and your nerves when she very carefully slipped a finger in, her thumb replacing her tongue when she rose up again and let you taste yourself on her tongue without warning. you grabbed her shoulders as if you want to shove her away, and when she entertains the idea that you could in fact hold a candle to her strength, she just huffed and smiled before going, “you opened your mouth, princess. don’t tell me you didn’t like that.”

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI finally gets to fucking you and holy shit she was waiting so painfully long for you—her first strokes of her clit against your own were rough from the very start, both of you soaking and bubbling from everything that had been happening tonight—except she held out on her own pleasure just so she could see you come undone on her tongue and fingers. She bucks her hips against you roughly and the initial contact is explosive—you both moan in unison, yours higher and shakier as if racing her to something. you fell limp right after that first stroke and she continued to hold your leg up against her, hips bucking at a frenzied pace like she could see your orgasm approaching quickly, stopping at nothing to claw and fight to bring it back down to earth and let it spill all over her.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI has a death grip on your thighs and your waist when you cum, making sure you don’t squirm away now as your clit and hers throb in an unspoken rhythm like they’ve done this before and have made their shapes match perfectly with where contact is made and rubbed and heightened. You’re certain there’ll be bruises where her thumbs dug into her skin, and you can see it on her face the way one corner of her lips turn up just because she managed not to dig her nails into your skin but oh fuck is it going to bruise. she doesn’t even seem to realize, she’s too drunk on your clit to think now.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI cums and you scream because she pushes her clit all the way up yours like she wants to take up all of you in a capacity physically and biologically impossible for either of you—but she pulls your leg and waist towards her anyway, screaming your name when she cums and she pants, letting her grip lax finally as half-mast black-smeared eyes drag up your body from one last lick of the view before she collapses next to you, both of you panting and taking in the liquor and sweat.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI found the strength in her to somehow get up and pass you her waterbottle. when you tried to sit up, you winced and she snapped her head back to you only to put the waterbottle aside and slide a leg under your knee, her left arm slipping under the curves and lumps of your back and its bones before lifting you like you were wind ready to slip away. “hey woah woah—i’ve got you,” she muttered and you swore stars circled your head at how incredibly gentle she sounded, as if someone else’s sweet, unused and unexercised voice made it into such a hard-trained throat and still managed to stay soft despite everything. her hand’s grip was tight but her arms were so stable you might as well have been lying on a rock or a bumpy wall.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI lent you her jacket when she offered to at least send you off to wherever you needed to be in the morning. you were about to shrug the jacket off when it was time to leave but she chuckled weakly as her hands weigh it down on your shoulders, keeping it there before going, “nah, return it to me when we see each other next time. i’ll be at the bar every night.”

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI lost her mind even more than she already had when you didn’t return for the next three days. her punching bag broke from its chain, stuffing blasting in her face and she had to go through one hell of a hassel to get a new one. but all she thought of was you and so she was ending fights quicker, thinning her voice and reducing it to a coarse hair of a sound from all the screaming. even if she had wiped the spot where both of you came, she flipped her mattress the moment she found the stain.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI jacked off to you eventually, needing to forget you quickly but after cumming found that it just might be her end because she can’t forget how sweet you smell, the taste of you somehow still lingering even when a week or two has gone by and she’s weakened by the lack of your essence—not just from your clit but from the saccharine flowers that you managed to plant in her head and her chest with the memory of your smile, eyes narrowed like it was making room for such a pretty thing. she can’t breathe when she jacks off to you, remembering how your hips twitched into her at how good her clit felt against yours.

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