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hier--soir · 8 months

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a lover's pinch | four

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: after a conference in new york, you and j miller phd take things a step further. warnings/tags: au, university professor joel, age gap [20 something years diff], ethically dubious relationship due to inherent power imbalance, i think i describe reader as having sweaty palms about 1500 times so it deserves a warning, alcohol consumption, the plight of being a woman in academia, oral [f receiving], unprotected piv sex [IN A BED ??? GASP] for you filthy animals, prone bone, a little roughness and then not much at all, uhhh pet names during sex.... uhhmm intimacy errrrrr.... soft!joel... feelings... okay bye word count: 9.3k series masterlist | main masterlist a lover's pinch playlist a/n: hey folks, thank you so much for all your patience as i took my sweet sweet time writing this. we get to know our prof a little better in this one so a fair amount of dialogue for you but yeah anyways i hope you enjoy it, and i'd love to hear what you think! [and if i Fell Off because of the depression, don't tell me lol] A WORD ABOUT THE TAG LIST: i will continue the taglist for this part and for part five, and after that i will rely solely on my notifications account @hier--soirupdates so pls follow that and turn on notifs to be told when i post writing x this is part four of ALP. you can read the previous parts here: one, two, three.

Saturday.

The conference centre is vast.

A large space that protects you from the threatening clouds that loom over New York City, and exposes you to countless dense conversations.

An NYU teacher’s assistant is glued to your hip, parading you through the centre with a wayward index finger that points out the bar, the room where the keynote speech will be given [large, with an imposing stage], and the room where you will give your presentation [less large, with a far less imposing stage].

Your presentation.

You fight the urge to pull up the email for the thousandth time while she explains how there will be fifteen minutes to set up beforehand, and advises on when the doors will open for guests, and reminds you that you have a strict allotted time of 20-minutes, do you understand?

But the email is branded on the inside of your eyelids after this morning’s flight was spent reading and rereading and rereading the words. So you nod and smile and placate her on the tour of the centre, as you run through it in your mind.

We look forward to welcoming you to NYU’s Annual Classics and Ancient History Conference. Our team was intrigued by the presentation devised around your translation study in Athens…

“Did you hear me?”

You wish she wasn’t dressed so casually.

Loose balls of lint are collected on the back of her cardigan like trinkets, weighty and threatening to fall off in a sort of bread crumb trail behind her every movement. It makes your dress feel all the more serious, all the more formal. Navy blue and a little tight, with sleeves that slant across the middle of your bicep and a hem that cuts modestly across your lower thigh. Professional, smart, sexy, but not too sexy. You and Nora spent two hours at the mall picking it out last weekend. And you can see people in suits, in blazers, in dresses, everywhere you turn, but your eyes keep returning to the TA’s cardigan. Little pills, sad morsels of broken fabric.

She says your name sharply.

“Yes,” you snap to attention, and clock her poor attempt not to roll her eyes. “You were saying?”

“It’s an open bar,” she continues from a few steps ahead, slowly back away while raising her voice to be heard over the countless others sprouting across the room. “And food is served after the Keynote.”

Finally free of her and her cardigan, you scale the edge of the hall, curious eyes glancing across faces familiar and not. You notice some other postgrads from UNE, and some professors from your alma mater. But it isn’t until three hours into the conference that you notice him.

You’re in a painfully long conversation with Professor Carmichael, an ancient history department head from Boston, when you notice them.

“Well you see,” he’s saying, slowly. “The First Roman Triumvirate was very unique. Surely you agree with me there, my dear?”

“Of course,” you nod amiably. A waiter floats past you holding a tray of glasses. You grasp one with a grateful smile, and turn back to face him with a sip of cold white wine moving down your throat. “The Big Three, it’s all very interesting. Although I must say, I am personally more interested in the second triumvirat—”

“Oh they all say that,” he waves his hand. “Everyone is so taken by Antony and Octavian that they forget about Crassus! So tragic.”

“A very tragic death,” you offer an exaggerated frown. “I agree.”

Carmichael hums, eyes narrowing as if you’ve said something wrong. Sipping your wine, your eyes float over his shoulder, determinedly trying to spot any sign of food, gaze spilling across countless faces and tables and waiters and professors until one set of people makes you pause. Wild dark hair atop a floral dress floats in your vision, her pale hand hovering over the sleeve of a tall man in a suit. You watch the backs of their heads; the way the woman tilts her chin upward to speak to the man and laughs at what he says in return. That laugh. You frown, and feel yourself take a step forward, a step in their direction.

“Is something the matter?” Carmichael asks and you halt, flash him a sweet smile and shake your head.

“No,” you rush, practically tasting the opportunity to escape the conversation. “I’m sorry, Professor, I thought I saw someone waving me over. If you don’t min—”

“Always so many people to talk to at these things,” he says in a sing-song tone of voice, smiling obliviously. “All in due course, dear. You’ll find them later I’m sure.”

It’s not until fifteen minutes later that the tap comes on your shoulder. You turn and feel relief wash over you as you come face to face with Rachel, with her tangle of curls and bright orange dress. But then a jolt shudders through your frame, for you spot the man accompanying her; the man you watched her traipse around the room with, the man in the sleek black suit—Joel, hovering a step behind her.

“Rachel,” you blink. “Joel. Hi—”

“I didn’t know you’d be here!” Rachel says. Her eyes are wide, lips pulled back into a crooked grin that immediately sets you at ease. Joel, on the other hand, looks uncomfortable to say the least. You watch him tuck his hands in his pockets and then take them out again quickly, lips pursed together in a tight line as he glances between you and Professor Carmichael.

“Joel,” she grips the sleeve of his blazer and tugs him forward to stand beside her. You watch where her hand grazes him - the ease with which she jostles him around. “Did you know?”

“No.” He stares for a moment, lips parted and eyes darting across your face, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t know.”

“I’m giving a presentation,” you explain quickly, eyes darting between the two of them, fingers tightening around your glass every time your eyes settle on him. He trimmed his beard again; the hairs are shorter, neater—almost too short and too neat for your liking. His shirt is pressed and crisp, shock white beneath the midnight black of his jacket. He’s wearing different glasses. Tortoise shell glasses. Someone clears their throat to your right, snapping you out of your reverie. You apologise quickly, “This is Professor Carmichael.”

“Of course,” Joel nods, stepping forward to grip the older man’s hand. “Good to see you again, Professor.”

“And you, Professor Miller,” Carmichael chuckles, patting a shaky hand against Joel’s shoulder. “When was the last time we crossed paths? A year ago?”

“Must’ve been a year,” Joel smiles easily. His eyes slip to look at you every few seconds. “The conference in Ottawa.”

“The conference in Ottawa!” Carmichael cheers, nodding away. A weight sinks in your stomach like a cinder block as you watch the Professor gear up to wrangle Joel and Rachel into another conversation about Crassus’ untimely demise. But then Rachel slips away, called out to by someone across the room. And before Carmichael can open his mouth, Joel is speaking again, that honeyed drawl like music to your ears.

“Excuse me, Professor Carmichael,” he smiles again. Two of his fingers grip your elbow, tugging you a step backward. “Do you mind if I steal my star student for a few moments?”

Joel tilts your body to the left, and then the two of you are veering off into the crowd, wandering through throngs of people, his warm fingers pressed against the soft flesh above your elbow.

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” you say under your breath, glancing around warily, trying to spy any curious eyes that might notice the two of you.

“Could say the same thing,” he murmurs, dragging you to a stop at the edge of the hall with his eyebrows raised. “When’s your talk?”

“At one. Overlaps with the Keynote, which I’m a little relieved about,” you smile, a pinched, tense thing. “Hopefully everyone will go to that, and I’ll have a smaller crowd.”

Joel’s eyebrows raise. You think you notice his shoulders stiffen. “S’that right?”

A persistent pang of hunger stabs through your stomach, you rub a hand over the front of your dress and nod. Curious brown eyes follow the movement.

“Here,” Joel reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. His fingers graze your skin as he tucks the shiny rectangle of foil into your palm. “They don’t put out any food until after the Keynote.”

It’s a granola bar. Peanut butter and banana. You stare at it for a moment, almost dumbfounded by the kindness of the gesture. By how attentive he is; how much he notices without you even having to speak.

“Thanks,” you say. Nestle it into your purse and give him an appreciative smile.

“Sure,” he nods jerkily. Adjusts the glasses on his nose. “I’m disappointed to miss it.”

“Oh?” you blink. Your eyes focus then, flitting downward to focus on the badge hanging from his lanyard.

Joel Miller, Ph.D.

University of New England.

Keynote Speaker.

“Oh, shit.”

“Mhm,” Joel squints at you. “Sorry if I don’t share the sentiment that everyone comes to watch me instead of you.”

“Why didn’t you…” you gape. “You didn’t say you were giving a talk?”

“You didn’t ask.”

“The Keynote speech is a big deal,” you say, as if he wouldn’t know.

“I was their third choice,” he shrugs you off with practiced ease. “First two weren’t interested.”

“Third time lucky then,” you smile, and he chuckles. Someone calls Joel’s name then, and you both spin to see Rachel across the room with a group of people, all eagerly waving him over. Something nasty curls in your chest – something bitter and unwarranted and cruel. You smother it with a mouthful of wine and a soft smile of farewell to him as he turns and walks in her direction.

A hand clasps down on your shoulder and you flinch, turning to see Professor Carmichael beaming.

“Where were we then, my dear?”

You eat Joel’s granola bar at the back of the hall five minutes before your talk and walk onstage with the taste of peanut and banana on your lips, brushing crumbs of dried oats off your fingers.

Fifteen people attend, spotted miscellaneously across the amassed rows of chairs. The slide clicker is damp in your palm, and your thumb hovers trembling over the button, awaiting each moment you need to press down.

“Working alongside some fantastic translators,” you tell them. “We focused on studying the disparities between how Greek texts are translated by men and women. Particularly, we aimed to delve into the way emotive language has been downgraded or elevated depending on the lens through which a text is being viewed.”

Professor Carmichael sits in the front row, those sun-spot covered hands clasped in his lap, offering an encouraging smile as you shift upon the stage. Rachel is a few rows back, and she nods intently whenever you glance in her direction.

“One of our main points of focus,” you continue. “Was to understand points of difficulty in translating while accounting for cultural nuances, and how the context of differing authors can impact upon this. In my next slide—”

It’s as you turn to glance at the display that you notice them for the first time. Three rows from the front, where a group of men sit. Two of them young, maybe around your age. You change your slide and watch them whisper in each other’s ears. One of them points at you. Or not you, rather—your legs.

And you yearn for it to be meaningless. A meaningless gesture between colleagues. Meaningless legs, meaningless dress, meaningless curves and slopes and dips and spins. But as you continue, you know it can’t be. The way they talk through your presentation, as if they aren’t bothered to be heard. The way they leer at you over Carmichael’s shoulder, grinning to each other. Your words in one ear and out the other—simply a talking point for them, a blue dress, something to stare at. Your dress feels hot, tight, and your chest feels hotter, tighter under the lights as those eyes glaze over you. You glance back towards Rachel. She gives you a thumbs up that doesn’t serve to cool your nerves.

“When translating word for word in our field, it’s uncommon,” you stutter to a stop, eyes flashing warily. “Sorry, it is not uncommon to find that narratological creativity dwindles.”

You hear a chuckle to your right and swallow down the urge to shoot daggers in the direction of the sound. “Translators struggle to maintain the in-depth imaginative expression that the original Greek text inspires. But through my discussions with Professor Samaras, we found that…”

It’s in the final minutes that you notice him. Tucked away in a back row of the room, arms folded across his chest. You pause for a moment, words caught in your throat. But Joel merely gives you a short nod. The faintest hint of a smile, of the corner of his eyes slanting upward, and it’s as if a cool breeze washes over you. Hands steady, knees lock, and you push through. You don’t look at any of their faces until it’s over.

And when it is, and scattered applause decorates the air, you can’t help but cast a smile in Joel’s direction. A smile that slips and wavers when you spot the broad expanse of his back, that sharp black blazer, as he slips out the doors without wasting a second.

The rest of your audience follows suit, a slim line that wanders out the doors without a second glance—spare Carmichael, who tells you he was quite taken with how you presented yourself, my dear.

You hear your own name and turn to see Rachel approaching, a burst of floral frock and swinging earrings. Her smile is wide and crooked, and you can’t help but smile back.

“That was wonderful,” she cheers, squeezing your shoulder. “I was so taken by how you spoke about the importance of linguistic quality assurance when translating emotive texts. Brilliant!”

Your face warms. “Thank you,” you shake your head quickly. “It was… thank you. That’s very kind.”

You glance over her shoulder, wondering if he’ll reappear – perhaps share her sentiments, maybe shower you with praise. He doesn’t.

She catches you looking. “Joel was in a rush,” she offers easily. “Lots of people wanting to talk to the man of the evening.”

“Of course,” you swallow thickly. Another smile.

Rachel stares at you curiously. “He’s very impressed by you, you know.” Her voice is warm, gentle—soft spoken like a mother who can sense the slightest flash of insecurity. You cringe immediately, feel your arms cross protectively across your chest. Don’t give the game away now. “Honestly, I think he read your comparative paper on the katabasis three times. Practically raved about it when I asked what it was.”

“Oh,” you blink, shifting uneasily under her gaze. “That’s… wow, I’m flattered.”

“He sees a lot of potential in you,” she says.

“Right,” you nod. “Well, he’s a grea—you’re both great teachers. I’m very lucky to be learning from the two of you.”

She doesn’t speak for a moment, and you fear your face grows warmer in the silence. Can feel the slick on your palms returning, the flash of heat in your chest, the longer you sit in it. You make a quick and tumbling excuse to flee the scene, spitting a mess of thank you so much and just need some fresh air, before you’re stumbling out of the hall and wandering outside on newborn deer legs. You snag a flute of something bubbly off the bar on your way, and find yourself on a secluded bench in the breezeway behind the conference centre.

You sit there alone and watch the grass, the way the light from inside shines out across the green. Feel the chill of the wind slip past you, rustling your hair and raising goosebumps on your bare legs. Sip dry Cava and contemplate how many more of these things you can feasibly imagine attending in your career. There’s a single text from Nora on your phone, asking how the presentation went. You tuck it into your purse, leaving the message unanswered.

By the time you hear the door hinges creak, the glass is near empty. You spy a shadowy form snaking its way down the path, headed in your direction.

“Mr Keynote Speaker,” you hum. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“Funny,” Joel mutters dryly, knees cracking as he falls onto the bench beside you. A heavy sigh slips from between his lips, fingers lacing together in his lap as he gazes across the breezeway. You down the last of your drink and place it on the concrete by your feet. “Needed some god damn peace and quiet. All that chit chat drives me insane.”

You murmur in agreement and stare at the side of his face – the neatened beard, the thick frame of his glasses. Purposeful or not, the side of his body is pressed against yours. Thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder – he’s sat directly in the centre of the bench. Heat radiates off his body and it’s almost too warm, and yet you find yourself relaxing against him.

“First time at one of these?” Joel asks gruffly. He’s still not looking at you, his eyes trained on a pigeon pecking at a discarded foil wrapper on the grass.

“Is it that obvious?” you grimace.

“Only because I’ve been to twenty of the damn things,” he says. “Y’learn how to smell the nervous energy comin’ off the first timers.”

“Twenty?” you mutter. Feel your stomach curl and twist at the idea of doing this day nineteen more times.

“Somethin’ like that.” Joel glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Went to a lot during my second degree. Had to get good at talkin’, fast.”

“Ahh,” you say. “So, you weren’t always such a sweet talker then?”

He lets out a low chuckle, as if amused by the thought. “Sweet talker, huh? That what I am?”

You shrug, suddenly emboldened by him following you outside, by how close he is, by how open he seems.

“I suppose,” you say slowly.

“And what gave you that idea?”

“You here alone?” you offer a poor imitation of him, voice low and breathy with your awful take on a Southern twang. “Meet me in the bathroom.” You wink, quietly delighted by the way his lips have tightened into a flat line.

“Funny,” he says again, entirely unamused now.

Something warm shifts in your lower stomach. Something wet—a vivid memory of him on the ground behind you in the bathroom of a bar, of hands spreading you open, of his tongue pressing inside you, of The Eagles playing faintly in the background.

“You do that kind of thing often?” you ask.

“Do what?”

“Approach young women at bars,” you wiggle your eyebrows, smirking. “Rob them of their virtue in the bathroom and then hope you never see them again.”

“You? Virtuous?” Joel rolls his eyes. You can see the corner of his lip curling upward. “Must be gettin’ yourself confused with somebody else.”

“Maybe,” you smile.

“Sometimes,” he casts you a look, after a moment. “Not… often. And not young.”

“Younger,” you counter quickly.

“I didn’t expect you to be…” he trails off and shakes his head. “It’s not a thing I do, alright?”

“Of course not.”

“It’s not.”

“You don’t date then?”

He tilts his head at you curiously, eyes planted firmly on your face now. “Not for a long time.”

“Why not?”

“Been busy,” he grunts, clearly growing impatient by the line of questioning. “Spent a lot of time studying. Working.”

“Where did you study?” you press.

“This twenty fuckin’ questions?” he snaps, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Came out here for—”

“You came out here,” you interrupt. “Because I came out here.”

He glowers at you, but doesn’t try to deny it.

“Night classes at Texas A&M for my undergrad,” he grits out. You smile sickly sweet, pleased. “Did my postgrads part time at UT Austin,” Joel says.

Your eyebrows kick up again, the teasing pretence all but forgotten. “Sounds… unconventional?” you offer softly.

“That’s one word for it,” he agrees vaguely. “Spent the better half of a decade at school just to end up teaching at one. Ain’t that somethin’.”

“And before that?” you press.

“Before that,” he continues with a wry grin, one full of distaste and frustration and resentment. “Was a contractor for a long time. Houses, buildings.” He rests a hand against his shoulder, fingers pressing against the muscle there, as if working out a decade old knot.

And for a moment you can see it. Can almost taste it. Collared shirts and glasses replaced with hard hats and hammers and dirt in the lines of his palms. Joel carrying a plank of wood on his shoulder, wearing a toolbelt. Joel on his knees, sweat shining on his forehead while he wields an electric drill.

Your dress feels too tight suddenly. Too warm.

“A contractor,” you say distractedly, and hope he doesn’t notice how your thighs press together.

“Mhm,” Joel nods. “With my brother.”

“You have a brother?”

He ignores that. “Where did you study?”

“San Diego State,” you flash him a grin. “Go Aztecs.”

“Good school,” he hums. “You’re a long way from California.”

Only a little further than Texas, you think.

“You did good up there,” Joel adds.

Your smile dips and wanes into a scowl, uninterested in the change of subject.

“What?”

“It was…” you shake your head slowly, face warming as you glance down to your lap.

“What?”

“It just wasn’t what I expected.” You pick at a loose thread on the hem of your dress. “That’s all.”

“And what did you expect?”

“To be listened to,” you grunt. “Not gawked at by some ancient jerkoffs that were only there to stare at my ass when I turned to change a slide.”

Joel nods, quiet.

“I wanted it to matter,” you mutter. “Wanted to… fuck, I wanted to impress them.”

“I was impressed.”

“Oh yeah?” you snort, finally looking up. “You hightailed it out of there pretty quickly.”

Joel shakes his head and stares back at you, gaze heavy. His hands tighten into fists against his thighs, knuckles lightening to white as he squeezes. You shuffle on the seat—ignore the flare of heat that erupts where your shoulder nudges firmer against his.

“I guess you could say,” he speaks slowly. “I’m tryin’ to keep my distance.”

You arch an eyebrow and attempt to swallow the laugh bubbling up your throat.

“Well, you’re doing a great job,” you smirk.

Joel laughs and your smile falters, mouth going slack at the sound. How rare it is, and how much rarer to have it all to yourself like this. For all of his sharp angles, his sweet talking, his harsh words, and harsher touch—that laugh is the cruellest part.

He jostles his shoulder against yours a little. An acknowledgement; perhaps a glimpse inside. Something that says, I know, I see it, I feel it, I can’t stop either.

“You make it hard,” he says then, and his voice is soft—almost a whisper.

“How’s that?” You match his tone, as if you’re two little kids who’ve snuck outside to share secrets where no one else can hear them.

“You bein’ here,” he murmurs, eyes searching. “Startin’ to feel like you’re everywhere I turn.”

A breeze swims past and you shiver, locks of hair floating in a mess around your face until you pat them down. Joel moves almost imperceptibly, curling his side tighter against yours to shield you from the onslaught.

“I know the feeling,” you admit.

The muscle in his jaw ticks and he clears his throat, looking out across the green again. For a moment the pair of you sit in silence. Not as professor and student, but simply a man and a woman on a bench. Breathing the same air, soaking in a shared silence that only the two of you could understand. And there are so many more questions you want to ask him, so much more you feel compelled to know, but instead you settle for this—sitting on a bench together, shoulders and thighs and chests pressed side to side, two frames moulded around the welcoming shape of one another. For now.

“It gets easier,” Joel says then, jaw tense as he spares a glance back in your direction. “This stuff, these people, all the talkin’.”

You acknowledge him with a small smile, just the slightest twitch of your lip. Don’t bother saying, maybe for you. Maybe for a man.

“You know,” you suck in a breath and give him a lazy smile instead. “I think this might be the longest conversation we’ve had without ripping each other’s clothes off.”

“Mm.” He leans his head back to rest on the wall, eyes focusing up towards the sky.

“I like it,” you say quietly. Hear how vulnerability chimes in your voice – a wobble that begs to be ignored and understood all at once. “It’s nice… talking like this.”

Joel’s head tilts towards you, dark eyes locked on yours. He doesn’t say anything, but you can see that wariness in his eyes. The same wariness that poured out in flecks of brown and amber and gold in the light of your bedroom a week ago, when he told you he was fifty. A hesitant curiosity, an incessant suspicion, a bark of disbelief. You feel the desire to pluck the feeling out of him and swallow it whole. To lock it safely inside yourself and make it so he never has to feel it again.

So you lean in a press your lips against his. Painfully soft, just a whisper of two mouths slotting together. Chapped and dry from the wind, he tastes like bitter sparkling wine. You sigh into him, uncaring. Hook your ankle around his, place your hand on his thigh, and sink closer, deeper.

He pulls back an inch, mouth still hovering over yours, the tip of his nose pressed into your cheek.

“Shouldn’t do this here,” he warns quietly, eyes still closed. His breath is hot against your face, and you inhale the taste of mint and Cava and Joel.

“I know.” You grip the lapel of his blazer and kiss him again. Firmer this time, grazing your tongue along the seam of his lips until he welcomes you inside to taste behind his teeth. The frame of his glasses presses into your nose, your cheeks, and you smile into his mouth. Rough palms and lazy fingertips graze the skin of your bicep, your neck, until they find a home at the nape of your neck. His thumb presses against the hinge of your jaw, hot wet tongue working your mouth open until you’re whining, teeth nipping at his bottom lip and fingernails digging into the meat of his thigh.

Only when you move to press a hand beneath the collar of his shirt does Joel pull back again, this time to stand and take a step away from the bench. A tinge of scarlet creeps its way from the hollow of his throat to the apple of his cheeks. He clears his throat and glances over his shoulder, towards the door. When he looks back, there’s something new there. Some dangerous that flashes in his eyes and lingers when his gaze dances down the curve of your body against the seat.

“Where are you staying?” you ask, breathless.

For a minute he doesn’t answer. Simply stares, contemplating, broad chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. The lenses of his glasses are fogged, and you watch them slowly clear.

Then— “The Pendry.”

Joel reaches into his pocket and retrieves something small and laminated. You take it from his outstretched palm carefully. “Fifth floor.”

You stare at it for a moment. Turn it over in your palm once, twice. Read the room number printed on the key card before tucking it safely into your purse. When you look up again, Joel is already walking back inside.

It’s nearing midnight by the time you arrive at the Pendry – a high rise in Manhattan West, the kind with a fancy lobby and a doorman in a neat black suit. The polar opposite of the hotel where your suitcase lies unopened across the city. You feel out of place in an instant, but you’re still in your dress, and the staff don’t bat an eye at your presence. The key card he gave you is hot where your fingers curl around it, plastic damp and foggy with the sweat from your palms. By the time you reach his door you have to wipe it on your dress before the sensor will recognise it.

A hollow beep echoes through the hall, and his door presses open with a soft hiss.

The room is enveloped in darkness. Moonlight shines in through a slim gap in the curtains, highlighting vague edges of the space. A desk against the wall, a large bed on the left of the room. For a moment you consider that he isn’t here—that he got caught up at the conference, sweet talking into the midnight hour with other professors and alums. You can hear sounds from the street, music and car horns blaring, even from the fifth floor. But nothing else. No Joel.

Tentatively, you take a step inside the room. And then another. Kick your heels off and feel rough carpet hairs sift between your toes. Holding your hands out into the darkness, fingertips ghosting the wall for support, you venture further into the room, only pausing when your shin thumps against the corner of something sharp and sturdy.

You spit a surprised curse and stumble into the wall, hands falling to grip your leg where it throbs and smarts.

“Jesus fuck,” you hiss, smoothing your fingers against the already forming lump.

A lamp flicks on, and the room lurches into view, tinged in a soft yellow light. You jump, eyes squinting against the sudden brightness. Bed sheets rumple and shift, and Joel is frowning at you from his place amongst the pillows, a hand raising to drowsily scratch his chin.

“The hell are you doin’?” he rasps.

Heat flares in your face as you straighten up, mirroring his frown. He moves slow, a sluggish stretch out of bed, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, and he looks almost concerned. It gives you pause for a moment, eyes unsure of where to settle, as you note just how much of his body you’ve never seen before. The soft muscles in his legs, the dark hair over tan skin. You can see the slight round of his stomach through the thin fabric of the shirt.

“Were you asleep?” you accuse.

“Thought you weren’t coming,” Joel mutters, and the sound is a fractured medley of words and yawns. You feel a dull pang of disappointment in your chest as you watch him rub sleep from the corner of his left eye.

“Were you hoping I wouldn’t?”

He doesn’t respond.

“You gave me a key.”

“I know,” he sighs.

“Of course I was going to come.”

He nods. Yawns again, hand snaking upward to cover his open mouth.

You turn your back on him slowly. Take a glass from the little kitchenette and let the faucet run a cool burst of water into it. Little specks of water splash up, dotting against your hand. Your feet ache from wearing those damn heels all day, but you wilfully ignore the pain, gulping down half the glass while staring at your reflection in the splashback. Blue dress, hair tucked behind your ears, charcoal smudged around the curve of your eyes.

Joel’s fingers wind around yours, peeling the glass from your clutch so he can steal the final few sips. He discards it on the counter and leans against it. You try to make out his expression in the shadowy light, wiping your water-dotted arm against your side.

“S’a good dress.” He looks more alert suddenly, eyes sharp and focused, wide shoulders squared.

“Yeah?”

“Mm.”

“Didn’t say anything about it earlier.”

“Was tryin’ not to think about it,” he says plainly. “And how badly I wanted to take it off.”

Your hand stills. That misplaced disappointment slips out of the room, an unwelcome third party, and you grin at him. A sleazy, sleepy smile, and walk backwards in the direction of the bed without taking your eyes off of him.

“So take it off,” you challenge.

Your heartbeat is a steady thrum against your breastbone as he crosses the room. Badoom, badoom, no less than three strides and he’s there, gripping your waist to turn you so his chest is against your back.

Your zip is a low whir in the air, spinning downward slowly, slowly, from the nape of your neck to the sloping base of your spine. Deft hands trace skin, grazing every mark, every freckle as they are revealed to him, until the material of your dress is a gaping smile across your back. You shiver as the air rushes to meet your bare flesh, and then careful—cautious—you feel a pair of lips press against the top of your spine, soft pink against steely vertebrae. You say his name, low and surprised, and he doesn’t say anything. Those hands push the dress down your arms, and you watch it tremble and fall, a mess of blue at your feet.

You can hear his breathing; the way it stutters and jumps as he traces the clasp of your bra, the arch of your spine beneath it.

“Take it off,” you say again, and feel a sharp scratch of desperation that perhaps this time he won’t deny you this. This something that you’ve not experienced even once, and yet you find yourself missing.

The idea of his skin against yours is something prophetic, something inevitable, something divine—something determined far before the two of you met in that bar. It’s out of your control or his, irrevocable—a beast bred from desire that claws and snaps at the bars of its cage, calling you kicking and screaming into each other’s arms.

His fingers pluck at the clasp, and you smile. Sigh in relief as your bra hits the floor and the weight of your breasts are borne to the increasingly warm air. Joel is still behind you, still not seeing you. But broad palms splay across your back, massaging and flexing into your skin as they roam your sides, your stomach, up your front to cup your breasts. You gasp, eyelids fluttering as he squeezes softly, palms warm and solid against the stiff peaks of your nipples.

“Fuck.” Joel’s nose buries itself in your hair, his forehead against the back of your head. Your legs shake, and you lean back into his chest, your body a soft and tremulous thing that would surely float away if he weren’t here to hold you up.

His hands are on your breasts, sweet and tender and finally, and you wonder how long this wanting will feel like burning. Like nicks of flame that gloss over you and spit embers at anyone who dares to get too close—at him, sparking and sputtering as they collide in a spitfire symphony. This man who lives set ablaze in his own right. This man who welcomes your flame every time—swallows it whole, and lays kisses against the back of your neck with lips still warm.

Calloused fingers roll and circle your nipples, playing gently, listening for every gasp, every sigh, before diligently repeating whatever it was that called the sound forward. Your underwear is all but ruined, already damp and clinging to the slick skin between your thighs. And you can feel him against your lower back, albeit unmoving—not grinding against you, not pushing you down onto the bed, but waiting – for what, you can’t be sure.

You turn around faster than he can stop you. Hook fingers into the band of your panties and drag them down in a swift movement before straightening, holding his gaze all the while. And Joel—

He looks in pain. Dark eyes lock onto on your face and don’t stray. Don’t dip downward, don’t glance around the room. His hands hang by his sides, palms facing upward in a dejected fashion, jaw slack as he just—waits.

“Why won’t you look at me?” you whisper.

“You don’t….” he shakes his head. “If I look, I won’t be able to forget. And I—I can’t—”

There’s a flash of that memory again. Sweating in the dark bathroom of a bar in Portland. Joel wiping stained lipstick from your chin. The words I’m gonna remember this dripping from his swollen lips.

You take a step forward. Feel your nipples graze the soft material of his shirt. “And what if I don’t want you to forget?”

He says your name quietly, shoulders tense. But when you grip the hem of his shirt, he doesn’t stop you. Rather, he lifts his arms and lets you drag the fabric over his head. You marvel at the bare skin, eyes dancing across jutting collarbones and the soft swell of his stomach. Watch the way his chest rises and falls as stilted breaths flurry inside him before spilling into the air between you. Admire the trail of dark hair that rests between his bellybutton and the soft band of his underwear. His eyes don’t leave your face as you push the boxers down his legs.

“So handsome,” you say and Joel exhales, hands hovering a hairsbreadth from your waist. The weight of the moment hangs heavy between you. This moment of more. To be with him like this feels like more. To be naked feels like more.

You grip his hand and raise it to your breast again. Squeeze your fingers over his. His thumb flicks across your nipple and you gasp. His eyes darken, nostrils flaring as he fights to restrain himself.

“Joel,” you whisper. “Look at me.”

Finally, he does. Those brown eyes flickering downward to rake in the sight of your body.

He’s on you in a second, mouth slanting desperately against yours while his hands drift aimlessly across skin, untethered in their access. Fingers pinching and grabbing and squeezing, teeth searing at your lips, and you gasp as his cock presses against your stomach. The long, thick weight of him, drooling and needy. Your fingers slip around him, rub softly over the underside of his head, the vein on the underside of him. Joel grips your wrist and pushes you backward a step, his lips leaving yours with a wet smack.

“Sit on the bed,” he orders firmly.

You wander backward, stumbling onto the edge of the bed when your calves collide with the heavy wooden base. He watches you, hand drifting to wrap around the base of his cock. He strokes himself gently, black eyes tracing vigilantly over every inch of your body. And you expect him to push you down, to crawl on top of you. Instead, you watch with bated breath as Joel drops to his knees in front of you. His knees crack as they bend but he ignores it, nudging your thighs apart so his broad frame can fit between them. Hooded eyes gaze between your thighs, roaming across all of the bare skin on show. Slowly, he lifts a hand and rests it gently on your mound. Calloused fingers stroke over the dark hair there, stroking through the short curls. You sigh and cant your hips up, but Joel only grunts, his free hand squeezing your thigh to hold you against the mattress.

Before you can process it, he’s leaning forward, nose nestling in your hair as his warm tongue parts your folds. You groan in unison, your fingers carding through his curls to hold him against you. He murmurs something that you don’t quite catch over the roaring in your ears, but you don’t care. Too caught up in a smooth slide of his mouth slotting against you. The flat of his tongue glides up and down your sex, smearing a mess of slick and saliva in his wake. You gasp as it flicks sharply across your clit, your jaw tensing at the harsh sensation. Joel notices—pulls back.

“Tell me,” he urges.

“Slower,” you say quickly, voice feeble and desperate.

“Slower,” Joel repeats with a nod, and he massages your thighs as he licks into you, fingernails scraping your skin as his grip tightens and loosens and tightens and loosens. He traces slow circles around your clit with the flat of his tongue that have you gasping and bucking against his face. And when his tongue presses inside of you, you moan, fingers twisting in his hair and tugging.

“Fuck,” he growls into you, and he likes that. You do it again and his eyes flick open, pupils blown, gaze darting wildly across your stomach, your arms, your breasts, your face – watching, admiring, taking in every detail of the offering that you’ve laid so generously at his altar. The tip of a finger curls inside you and he grins when your thighs tense around him. He rears his head back to watch how you welcome him inside, eyes locked on the way your weeping cunt clenches and drips around one of his fingers, and then another.

“Yeah,” you sigh, nose scrunching at the slight stretch. “Yeah, like that, fuck.”

“Look at you,” he mutters. “Christ.” And then the cut of his wet red mouth is back on you, lips parting to suck against your clit until you’re crying out, voice a hoarse shout as you speed rapidly towards your end.

“Shit, Joel,” you gasp. One of your legs kicks out straight and his hand drops from your thigh, one set of fingers working you open while the other comes up to part your lips, giving himself more access. As he lathes wet kisses against you, the coarse hairs of his beard scraping your inner thighs, you can feel it. That liquid heat that coils and stirs in the base of your stomach.

“Joel, I—ohh—I think I’m gonna come,” you whimper, hand shooting out to grip his shoulder. Your nails dig into the tense muscle there, using the leverage to rut your hips against his face.

He groans into your sex, fingers moving faster, unforgiving against that spongy spot deep inside that sets you alight. His teeth graze against your clit, the lightest brush, and your stomach is tensing, every muscle in your body locking up.

“Give it t’me,” he says gruffly. “That’s it, come on, baby.”

A choked gasp falls from your lips and then you’re coming, twitching against his face, pussy bearing down on thick fingers that stoke you through the high. Your hand leaves his shoulder to grip the back of his neck, holding his face against where you’re aching for him still. Joel moans, a low sound from deep in his chest, dragging his fingers away so he can drink down every heady drop of your orgasm.

Baby.

The word rings in your head, bouncing inside your skull, a fierce ricochet. Baby.

Trembling fingers feather across the cowlick at the crown of his head, twisting and petting soft wayward curls as his mouth pulls back, a wet drag across the skin of your hip. You catch a glimpse of his cock, heavy and throbbing between his thighs.

Joel’s teeth nip at the sensitive skin of your thigh, a sharp pinch that makes you flinch. Tired muscles tensing, face twisting up as he sucks and licks, hot tongue soothing over the stinging red mark. He breathes your name, mouthing the sound into your flesh once, twice.

“I’ve been tryna remember this,” he murmurs. “Only ever had it for a second.”

You whimper as he licks into you again, slowly. And you’re so sensitive, and maybe—maybe—it’s too much, too soon, but he doesn’t care. He grips your calf and tucks it over his shoulder. Holds it there in a vice grip.

“Wasn’t enough,” he says. Dark eyes look up and you’re rapt in them—bound and boneless simply from having those eyes on you you you nothing but you all he sees is you and he loves it, you can tell. Thrives on the way you melt beneath his rough fingertips, the wet drag of his tongue. “Remember that first day in my office?

Remember, remember, remember, how could you forget? I’m gonna remember this this this.

“Yes.” Your leg trembles against the side of face, the coarse hairs of his beard scratching your skin. The tip of his tongue lathes slow circles around your clit. A cruel, leisurely slip of flesh on flesh that has you gasping and twitching beneath his hands.

“I wanted this that day,” Joel rasps. “Needed it. But you were gone so soon, ‘n’ I couldn’t help myself.”

“What—oh fuck—” He flicks his tongue faster, hot swipes from side to side that have your thigh clamping down against the muscles in his neck. Your mind is a blur, eyebrows furrowed as you try to make sense of his words.

“Fucked my fist the second you left,” he growls. “My fingers in my mouth, the taste of you—Christ, couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout it.”

“Joel,” you gasp, impatient. “I—get up here. Please, just—”

Strong hands push you up, push you back, further onto the bed until your head hits the pillows. His hair is a wild fray around his head, knotted and mussed from your fingers raking through it.

“I don’t have anything,” he says.

“I don’t care,” you say.

His knees press onto the mattress on either side of you and his eyes glance down your chest before he grips your waist and he’s turning you. Your stomach meets the sheets and you move to arch your back, to tilt your hips up towards him, but a firm hand rests on the small of your back, and keeps you down.

“Like this,” you hear him say. “Trust me.”

His chest is flush to your back, and you can feel him there, knuckles brushing the flesh of your ass, spreading you apart so his cock can press inside. The pillow swallows your wet gasp, and your eyes pinch shut against the stretch as he sinks deeper and deeper. Every delicious inch splits you open wider, further, carving out that space that’s just for him, and it’s more. Your vision blurs and you clutch at the sheets, fingers tangling in linen as Joel’s breathy groans fill the air.

“God,” he grunts. “Always so fuckin’—tight.”

You cry out as he begins to move, pressing you further into the mattress. The stretch of him is so broad—so deep—it has hot tears pricking in your eyes. Your legs are straight, almost clamped together, leaving the smallest gap for him to break through. His chest melts against your back, sweet sweat sliding from skin to skin. And his stomach is soft against the base of your spine, but his teeth are sharp where they nip and smart against the skin of your shoulder, your neck. He sets a pace that has you biting down into the pillow to muffle your groans. It’s almost overbearing how good it feels, how he surrounds you. Flat against the mattress, there’s nowhere to hide from the pleasure, no way to twist or curl your body away from how good it feels. A choked moan is muffled by the pillow.

And then his fingers are in your hair, dragging your head up.

“What are you fuckin’ doin’?” he grunts. You gasp, eyebrows furrowed and mouth ajar as you take take take. He pulls your hair harder when you don’t respond, presses his chin against your shoulder, lips curling against the skin of your neck as he speaks. “Don’t do that, not here. No more hidin’, I wanna fuckin’ hear it.”

He grips your hips and drags you upward so you’re on your knees, bracing against your forearms, and then his hand snakes around the front of your body, fingers dragging between your thighs as he begins moving again.

“Oh fuck,” your eyes widen in surprise, jaw hanging slack as he rolls his finger in expert circles over your clit. “Fuck, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he gasps.

“Fuck,” you repeat, mewling every time one of his thrusts sends your face forward into the pillows. “Yes, oh god.”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ like that.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust of his hips. “That’s it, lemme hear it.”

“Joel,” you cry out, voice cracked and broken. “So good.”

“I know, baby,” he grunts. “I know.”

“You’re so—deep,” you gasp.

“I know,” he soothes.

“I missed this,” you babble, mouth moving faster than your mind. “Missed you.”

“Christ,” he spits, pulling you up until you’re leaning against his chest. His fingers are a blur against your clit, cock a fast wet shift in and out in and out.

You tilt your head back against his shoulder, mouth hanging open as you press your ass back into him.

“Missed me?” Joel says, and his cheek is warm against yours. Wet. Your face is wet. “Gonna show me how much?”

“Yes,” you moan. His free hand grips your breast, squeezing and pinching.

“Need to get my fuckin’ mouth on you,” he growls.

“No,” you beg. “Joel, don’t—fuuuck, fuck, don’t stop.”

“Wanted to,” his hips stutter against you, losing momentum for a second. “Jesus, wanted to take my fuckin’ time.” You snake a hand behind his head to grip his hair again, to press his face into your neck. His mouth latches onto your skin, spit mixing with sweat where his teeth and tongue trace your roaring pulse. Your thighs are trembling, knees weak and wobbling against the mattress as he pistons into you, unrelenting, unforgiving.

“I’m—” your eyes start to roll back. You can feel your back arch and twist against him, toes curling into the sheets. “Oh my God.”

He says your name in a panicked hiss and pulls out.

You gasp at the loss, eyes flying open in alarm. He moves your body, not wasting a second as he lowers you down onto your back presses inside again, hands gripping the underside of your knees, holding them against your chest. Practically bent in half, you tremble in his grasp, eyes blurred and wet as you sob his name.

“Lemme have it,” he goads you, voice a dull vibration against your chest. “Bein’ so fuckin’ good for me, yeah, just like that.”

And it feels like something splinters within you as heat floods your senses, vision whiting out until all you can see is the soft edges of his curls against your chest, the wet smear of his tongue over your nipple. All you can hear is the words he speaks against your skin.

I’m close, he warns, and you say yes, say please, say I want it, because you do.

“Where?” You call the shots.

And you say, Inside, say, I want it, because you do.

Because you want everything. Everything he has and whatever dark matter is left after that. And everything is a naked thought, a stark realisation, a frighteningly bare streak of madness that zips down your spine and melts in your belly, and you can feel yourself tightening around him with the enormity of it. Can feel your body squeezing and sucking and holding it holding it holding it and with black eyes, spheres of a night sky’s pitch, he stares at you. Unruly eyebrows pinched tight. Mouth slick and swollen and snarling, white teeth grit like prison bars, keeping everything contained inside himself, just out of your reach.

“Fuck,” Joel spits, pleading, desperate. “Don’t—”

But his hips are bruising against yours and you relish in the ache. The jut of bone amidst the softness of his skin, a reminder of the coldness in him, the determination, the impatience. And you know that you can only have so much softness until there is stone. But you cannot understand don’t, you never have with him, so you grind upward. Meet him thrust for thrust, and shiver in delight as a tortured expression passes over his face. And when you come again he curses, broad palms bearing down on you, holding your frame into the mattress as he pushes you through it, prolonging that naked thought, that fearsome idea. You only hope that he cannot see how your own everything spills. How it cools and congeals around him with its palms spread open, longing to receive as much in return.

Joel comes with a shout, hips dragging backwards so his spend can spill across your stomach and the puffy lips of your sex. He grips his cock, milking himself for all he’s worth until wet ropes of his come are smeared across your thighs too. You gasp and writhe against the bed, trying in vain to keep your heavy eyelids open, not wanting to miss a second. The shine of your slick on his thighs and lower stomach is clear in the dim lighting, and you smile at the sight of it – your claim on him. Chest heaving, he follows your gaze, fingers swiping across his skin before sinking into his mouth. He groans around his fingers and you stomach lurches as he lowers his chest to the bed, mouth drifting between your splayed thighs.

You cup his jaw and hold him still.

“I can’t,” you murmur, and your voice is cracked and broken. “S’too much.”

And he agrees, tracing the marks on the inside of your thighs with his mouth until your eyes drift closed.

Time passes slowly after that. You don’t open your eyes for a while. Too fucked out, too tired, too tender.

There’s a warm glide of something soft and wet over your stomach, your thighs, between your legs—Joel cleaning up his mess. You almost wish he wouldn’t.

“Sorry,” you mumble a few minutes later. “I’ll go in a second.” But your eyes are closed, and the sheets smell like him.

You feel the mattress dip beside you. Hear a soft click as he turns off the lamp, and darkness swells around you once more.

“S’okay,” he says, and his voice is so close, as if he were whispering against the shell of your ear, breathing the words into you. “Don’t have to go.”

And it makes sense not to go. To stay, to stay, to stay. To sink deeper into the hotel mattress, and let the sounds of his heavy exhales lull you further to sleep. He doesn’t touch you. Doesn’t come any closer. But you can smell him. Can feel his warmth, a radiating sun that shines across the side of your body closest, and you sink deeper still.

You think of the katabasis - the hero’s journey spiralling down into the underworld. Of Orpheus seeking the safe return of Eurydice, his love lost too soon. Of Odysseus, guided by Circe to discover Teiresias on his quest for homecoming. Of Aeneid, venturing downward to meet his father and hear his true destiny. This descent into the afterlife, into the realm of the dead, wherein upon return our hero is irrevocably changed. But to stay, to stay, to stay. So warm it is here, you think, so lovely and warm to descend wholly into this wanting, this burning, this everything.

“Is this a good idea?” you murmur, voice a drowsy call into the darkness. “For me to stay?”

Joel doesn’t respond.

tags: @lovely-ateez @nana90azevedo @stevie75 @evyiione @dameron-grant-spector @brittmb115 @ashhlsstuff @casa-boiardi @bbyanarchist @hopplessilse @joeldjarin @anoverwhelmingdin @bluevxnus @kelp-dreaming @prettyinpunk85 @spacelatinos4life @iluvurfather @mrsquill @sarap-77 @sunnywithachanceofjavi @alleyy-katt @zeida @mendessi @love-the-abyss @myrealmofchaos @a-roving-woman @punkshort @gracie7209 @whichwitchwanda @fellinfromthetop @bitchwitch1981 @suzmagine @@lmariephoto37 @harriedandharassed @cumberpegg @tonysttank @ourautumn86 @my-tearsricochet @shotgun-shelby @5oh5 @psychedelic-ink @what-is-your-wish @sugadolly @elissaaa @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul

thank you for reading! x

#my writing #fic: a lover's pinch #professor!joel #ALP #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut

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thevirtualvalentine · 9 months

Text

004. ONE PIECE, CAPTAIN KOBY.

content warnings: afab!fem!reader, virgin!koby but it’s not vital to the plot, riding, top!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it up), cheesy “trapped in a small room” smut troupe, penetrative sex, dry humping, sex with feelings, “good boy” is used twice.

plot: your regular patient, Captain Koby, visits your office but you’re both thrown in a small broom closet during an evacuation drill! He may or may not have a crush on you and your dubious positioning on top of him will send him over the edge.

Captain Koby wouldn’t call himself a hypochondriac, but he cannot keep himself from waltzing into the nurses station on some bullshit excuse to see his favorite nurse. He’s just one of many of your admirers, and he’s more than aware of the fierce competition for your attention. While he doesn’t believe rank means anything in the grand scheme of winning your affections, one quick use of his haki has basic cadets running so he can spend alone time with you.

“And what is it this time Captain?” You whip around in your seat when he sheepishly says hello, scratching the back of his neck. You greet him with a sweet smile as he shuffles in.

“Uhhh, heart burn, yeah terrible terrible heart burn. Think you have anything for me?” He knows he’s full of shit, but it’s worth the effort anyway if he gets to see you. His cheeks tinted just as pink as his hair, you’re pretty much the only good thing left on this base and that’s why he can never bring himself to leave until Garp makes him hull ass on another adventure. The way you smile at him so sweetly whenever he speaks makes his heart flutter almost uncomfortably fast in his chest, maybe he does have heart burn…

“At your age? You’re too fit to be bogged down by all these health problems Captain.” He likes the way it sounds when you say his title, it just rolls off your tongue better than anyone else’s.

He’s quick to think of another excuse, “but what if it’s something serious!” You laugh as he sits down on your medical table removing his captains jacket. You pull down your skimpy nurses uniform before walking over to him with his chart on your clipboard, “I just wanna make sure.”

He wins another smile from you as you stand in front of him to check his vitals. You of course note how hot his face is and how he nervously twiddles his thumbs back and forth. He’s cute, too cute. Coming to your office week after week with a bosh excuse.

Koby loves the feeling of your hands on him, how delicate your finger tips skim over his shoulders and face. Of course it’s all professional, but who is he to complain? The scent of your haircare products and vanilla hovering in the air as you walk circles around him. It’s almost like a familiar routine between you two, he comes into bother you and you almost enable his deep-seated crush by not kicking him out flat on his ass.

“Well, no signs of any lingering symptoms Captain Koby, just a fast heart rate.” You shift your weight to one hip, letting your clipboard rest against your waist, his eyes following the curve of your body. “You’re good to go, will I see you next week?” Letting your red pen rest against your bottom lip you ask just to mess around with him a bit. He gets so flustered trying to find the right thing to say and you enjoy watching him gesture nervously as word vomit spews forth.

The line outside your waiting room has gotten exceptionally long during his stay and you don’t mean to rush him out, but, you do have a job to do. One cute little captain isn’t enough to distract you from your goals of helping people. “Next!” You call out down the hallway as he pulls his jacket back on.

The emergency evacuation lights start flickering before the long winded siren accompanies it. There must be some sort of drill as the overhead PA comes on. “Attention! All hands report to the dock. This is an emergency evacuation drill.” It’s been a few months since the last one, but still the obnoxious flickering and blaring alarms make your head reel in agony.

“Come with me, I’ll take you to the dock.” It’s Koby, he’s gesturing his hand forward for you to take as soldiers pour out into the hallways, he wouldn’t want you to get trampled over as thousands of people make their way outside. He’s always been sweet like this, a real gentleman.

His grip is strong and protective, yet gentle and nervous as he takes your hand in his. You’re placed in front of him while he clears the way for you both to pass through, that is until you’re both shoved into an open door connected to the long hallway.

Koby swaddles you into his chest to protect you from falling and the door is slammed shut in the process. You doubt you’d be able to get it open with the amount of people still passing through for at least a good ten minutes.

“Well shit, oh Captain Koby are you ok?” You hear groans beneath you and remember why your fall wasn’t nearly as painful as it could have been. There’s no light in the room and it’s rather cramped, barely any space to extend your limbs as you’re trapped on top of him. You push your hands against what feels like his chest while you try to look for a light, however you only find an oil lamp on a crate. You assume this was an area where people would come to smoke during work hours.

“I’m fine, are you ok? Does anything hurt miss y/n?” The concern in his tone his evident, his hands come to cup your face as he examines for any scratches or bruises. He’d never forgive himself if you were hurt on his accord.

“Hey isn’t that my job, I’m fine Captain thank you.” It finally sets in for him how he’s touching you so intimately and the precarious position you’re left in, sitting on top of him with knees on either sides of his hips.

It’s a view he only imagines late at night when it’s just him and his hand, maybe some lotion if he’s lucky to not wake Helmeppo. The lamp illuminates his flustered face as he tries his best to slide out from under you, apologizing profusely and almost knocking you in the face while flailing around.

“Koby,” you say trying to calm him down but he’s visibly panicking and you feel him stiffening under you with each passing second. While he’s been moving like a lune, you’re still on top of him; dress rising above your thighs as your clothed pussy sits above his cock, he doesn’t mean to but it’s rubbing your clit so pleasantly. “Koby, it’s ok, I’m not mad.”

“W-what—” his glasses that are typically resting on his head now lay on his nose. It’s amusing watching a Captain of the marines so discombobulated.

“I said, it’s ok, I’m not mad.” You push his glasses up his face to get a better look at all of him, he’s rock hard and only getting stiffer. “In fact, I’m flattered.”

You lean forward letting your lips rest against his parted ones, looking in his eyes for any sort of hesitation— but that doesn’t last. A hand flies to your curls as he pulls you forward by the hip, you knew he liked you but you didn’t know just how much. His kisses are inexperienced and starved, like he’s been waiting his whole life to have this exact moment with you.

Kobys trying not to bust in his pants at this ‘unfortunate’ situation he’s been dropped into. Not only does he get to be alone with you, he’s quite literally living his fantasy and you want him just as bad. He’s praying his inexperience doesn’t show but he wants to taste you so bad he’ll risk it all.

“Shirt off,” you command, it’s too stuffy for all these layers. Unzipping the top half of your uniform lets your breasts spill out, soft skin illuminated by the glow of the small lamp. He obeys without any sort hesitation, “you listen well Captain.”

The tips of his ears turn pink when you comment on his lack of reluctance, kissing his cheeks and then down the column of his neck as his baited breaths fill the small space.

He’s so pale you’re worried hickies will get him in trouble with Garp but he’s squirming under you as your lips make contact with his neck. He’s tugging on your clothes so needily as if to say, ‘harder please, I can take it,’ and goodness do you want to give it to him. What the hell, that jacket should cover it up.

He sighs pleasurably as you work on him, hissing when you scratch at his unmarred skin. His palms grab the globes of your ass as he rocks your pussy against his dick. He’s panting with his head rolled back too lost in the pleasure. “You wanna fuck me captain? That why you come to my office every week.”

He merely moans, eyebrows pinching together in concentration. The fabric of his pants rub against your clit so deliciously, dry fucking one of the navy’s top officers during a drill wasn’t in your plans today but holy fuck did it ignite something in you.

You kiss him again, slower this time, letting your hips drag harshly against his bulge just to tease him. Tongue creeping against his in a fight to slow the pace before he cums in his pants.

“Want you to fuck me Captain, please, I’ll make you feel good,” you half moan, tugging the hair at the base of his neck. If the devil was whispering in his ear right now, he’d let you take him. He trembles feeling need surge through him like a wave, all at once he needs to bury his dick in you to the hilt.

One problem, he’s never had sex before. The way your body rolls on top of his makes his mind hazy, forgetting all about the drill going on outside. “Not enough space,” he huffs, “just fuck me, I’m yours.” Quick on his feet, not missing a beat.

Now it’s your turn to swoon. He looks so honest when he says it, hearts in his eyes as he holds your hips; squeezing against your skin reassuringly.

Sitting back on his knees you pull your dress over your head, slipping your panties off as the lantern illuminates your curves in a soft glow. Koby watches enamored, forgetting that this is the part where he’s supposed to whip his dick out.

“Am I gonna hurt you? I didn’t touch you or anything.” He’s trying to not just reach out and grab you, in his deepest fantasies he gets to drill you in missionary while you call out his name. However, he knows stretching you open is an important aspect of sex (according to his books).

“You’re sweet, but we’ve gotta be quick.” Hovering over his length you use your own slick to lube his dick up before you’re trying to slink down it. He’s pretty average in length with a slight allowance in girth, and yes the curtains match the drapes.

The burn stings before it fades out into pleasure. “Oh fuck fuck fuck, that feels so good,” he whines, gripping your thighs with uncanny strength that’ll surely leave bruises. You wrap your arms around his neck as your cunt tries to swallow him, softly sighing as he fits you like a puzzle piece. Down and down you go on his thick shaft.

He almost doesn’t know what to do with himself, you sucking him in threatens to make drool spill down his chin. Never in his life did he think something warm and yet simultaneously wet could make his toes curl like this. “S’tight, keep going please.” You’re leaned over his shoulder as you try to catch your breath, ignoring the sounds of footsteps outside as you start to slowly bounce on Captain Kobys cock.

“Makin’ me feel so full already,” you whisper into his ear, digging your nails into his shoulders as you clench around his girth. The tip of his cock’s bullying your cervix with each bounce of your hips. The sound of your ass meeting his lap melds with his whines as he tries to get ahold of himself. Your pussy’s just too good.

“Ah— oh, fuck! Faster faster,” his voice sounds so vulnerable as your gummy walls squeeze him in, he hasn’t moved his hands from strangling your waist. Pushing you down further and further each time you chase his base.

It’s all so good; your hot breath, your moans for him to fuck you deeper, the way you’re holding onto him like you need him. He’s utterly melting, succumbing for some tight cunt. Maybe those navy stories he heard weren’t full of shit.

Koby’s chasing his orgasm, using your body as a toy subconsciously. Your ass in his hands as he spreads your cheeks, forcing himself in your heat that scorches him in a way he can’t get enough of. “So good Captain, don’t stop. I could cum on you just like this,” you say pushing him back against the wall. It’s so desperate and raw, his mouth chases yours in a hot kiss as your hands tangle in his hair.

He moans like a little slut each time his tresses are wrapped around your fingers, saliva connecting his mouth to yours. The fucked out look on his face is priceless. “So handsome, what a good boy you are.” Wiping excess drool that threatens to spill past the corner of his lip as he looks like he’s about to cry. His hips jumping to meet yours as that phrase leaves your mouth.

“Oh you like that?” Such a useful piece of information, “then be a good boy and cum for me.”

The whimper that leaves his throat is guttural, high pitched as it rips through the air. His strong arms work double time to slam you down over and over again like a machine. He finishes inside you as he clutches you to his chest, keeping himself tucked inside your cunny while his cock twitches n coats your walls white.

“So good Koby, jus like that baby.” You’re rolling your hips on his, trying to milk out anything remaining as he gasps from the stimulation.

“Oh no wait, what about you? I’m so sorry—” he doesn’t even let himself pull out of you before he’s speaking a thousand miles a minute. No worries, you have an idea for that.

You both get dressed as you hear the crowds returning, helping him zip up his jacket to cover the already bruising areas of his neck. Koby pulls your dress down over your ass and then some, like he’s your protective boyfriend or something, you just roll your eyes.

Stepping out into the hallway in a sea of people you hold his hand as he walks behind you, slipping into the crowd unnoticed. You forgot to smooth his hair out so he looks like he’s just slept in some crazy position, oops. He’s got this love drunk look on his face as you lead him back to your office and shut the door. Hearts buzzing around him as he follows you, not even an arrow from Cupid could replicate that look. You get some stares here and there, but your cunts throbbing for more so you couldn’t care less.

You place your “Be back soon <3! “ sign on the handle before turning around to find him sitting on your patients table, looking a bit too eager for round two.

“Now Captain, finish what you started. Nurses orders.”

#koby #he’s such cute bf material oh erm gee #he looked so fine in 957 oh my lawdddd #koby smut #coby smut #koby x reader #coby x reader #koby x y/n #coby x y/n #one piece smut #one piece thirsts #one piece x reader

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privitivium · 3 months

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Yan dilf... I love old men sm istg

yan dilf w domtop amab reader ramblings :3

yan dilf realness. based. a different case than the uhhh,,, "prof dilf" thing. smth about a chubby middle aged dude fiending for ur attention and getting all giddy if he sees you making friends with his kid is so cute. i also had this one prompt about a dad - adult son yan duo, son getting curious as to why his dad is so happy and follows him to see you and him on a date then both r in love with you LMAO! i enjoy the dilf with an edgy reader/darling. him trying so hard to bond with you, his young coworker - inviting you out to local shows or gritty bars to see if that takes ur interest. i like an awkward yandere who doesnt know wtf do to with themselves bro its the best.

i understand all the suave sugar daddy yan dilfs but liek,,, a little pathetic sugar daddy yan dilf,,, like yeah this guys had tons of practice and honing his flirtation tactics to get whoever he wants - but when it comes to you he's all serious without intent - his tummy fluttering in lovesick nausea - having to look away because the sight of you makes his dick twitch. you make his dick come to life bro he can't not have you.

yan dilf who's a pathetic fucking freak who cant stand being around you because you constantly make him all fuzzy and hard n he thinks its sooo unprofessional in the workplace!!! hands notably shaking as he grabs the random stack of papers he needs to sign - did he need to the sign these? fuck he doesnt remember what you were saying... too busy wondering how big of a dildo he has to order to practice with as he catches sight of your soft bulge in your disgustingly tight khakis.

yan dilf whos all disturbingly awkward when it comes to you - but still, offering to take you out for drinks after coincidentally bumping into each other outside of work. yeah, haha, it's super weird how we keep meeting like this, i guess its fates way of telling us we should hangout, right? haha... it's a little pathetic, you observe with a smile - agreeing merrily. but it's so cute. he was so obvious - you'd seriously think a middle-aged man would have the smoothness to flirt, but it's clear he's lacking in that department. making you wonder if he makes up for it in another department. he was wondering the same about you... but instead, berating himself for being a disgusting old man, thinking dirty things about you.

or maybe its smth like you being a babysitter for this quietly rich guy,,, him being all intimidating, unsure of how to get you to see how cool and "chill" he is, rather an observer as he enjoys watching you take care of his tweens.

yan dilf who cannot get you out of his mind. at a family dinner, a private seating arrangement in an extravagant place losing himself in his thoughts as his children make animated conversation - simply wondering what you were eating at this lovely afternoon... wondering if you were eating ramen like that stereotype of broke college kids having nothing to eat. he'd have to... sneakly provide you money... he cant stand the thought of you not eating well - whats his problem‐?! he barely knows you yet he's stalking you through social media and your fucking windows - sneaking in and planting cameras now just to settle his paranoia about your wellbeing? he's just a poor obsessed manㅡtake pity on him, omg.

#yan dilf.......#ocs =͟͟͞͞★#x male reader #male reader #top male reader #x top male reader #x dom male reader #dom male reader #yandere x male reader #yandere male x reader #yandere m x m reader #yandere male x male reader #hoorayyy_!_!_!_!!

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gas-stxtion · 2 years

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//typing up a headcanon post rn that i’ll probably share later tonight or queue up for tomorrow but i think i’m gonna take a step back for the night because i am once again in a SUPER bad headspace and i think i’m about to cry

#negative cw #//without going too much into it etc etc saw something for the like one (1) serious kinda trigger i have #//and it's got me in a really fucky headspace now #//so if i take a while to reply to any messages uhhh sorry y'all my mind is on fire #you know this whole thing is one big experiment‚ right? and you're the little mouse? {ooc}

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restinslices · 5 months

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Lin Kuei Bros: Play Fighting

Smoke so dramatic-. Anyway, don’t ask why I thought of this. The voices were loud

Bi-Han

Play fighting with any of them is bold as fuck but HIM? You don't like your life

I'm not saying he's gonna straight up assault you but out of all the brothers, he has the highest chance of hitting you hard as shit on accident

He probably wouldn't even like play fighting that much. He'd prefer sparring cause at least you're working on your skills. Why you just fucking around?

You gotta catch him on the right day. Some days he's busy and some days he's just legit not in the mood.

“Imma start it off slow. Imma scope the scenery out-”

If you somehow get this man to cooperate, first of all good job. Second of all, y'all do not stop until you give up.

The type to pin you down and not let go until you admit he won. If you refuse, you're legit not moving.

This is a big guy so you're not moving him. You give up, he lets go and you manage to crack a smile out of him

We never see him smile in the game but listen bitch, I'm here for the fantasy-

If he's not in the mood, I can see him just saying “no” like you're a puppy or smth.

You'd go to swing on him again and he'd either grab your hand or give you a look that tells you he's being serious

Going back to him accidentally hitting you hard as shit, he's used to sparring with two other buff ass men. Imma guess you're not as buff as them, and some of y'all reading this ain't men. Accidents are bound to happen

You'd think the Grandmaster would have more control but I just think it slips sometimes. He's stupidly prideful and he's used to sparring so sometimes that's where his mind goes. Also once again, he probably sometimes forgets a hit Kuai Liang could handle is a hit that'll take years off your life.

I would love to say he gets on his knees and apologizes but this is the same man who betrayed his brothers and was like “why y'all tweaking?” so um…

You're gasping for air and he's “see why I always say no?”

I feel like I'm making him sound abusive but as someone who's play fought with my older siblings, they hit you hard as shit then tell you you're a bitch when a tear slips out. Why the fuck are you hitting me this hard in my chest? You got 5+ years on me-

He's an older brother. He's gonna hit hard. I swear it's in their DNA

And if he does apologize it's not really verbal. He checks to make sure your limbs are alright then offers to do something else.

“Are you gonna say you're sorry?” “For?” “For almost breaking my damn lung” “You started this”

You'd expect that the next time you wanna play fight he'd decline cause he doesn't wanna hurt you again. Wrong.

Remember he's an older brother. THE older brother. Y'all squaring up again. You don't care about your health so fuck it.

Honestly would be super fun besides the limb you're gonna lose

Kuai Liang

Would be more cooperative than Bi-Han but still isn't overly excited to play fight

Bi-Han is the “tell mom. I don't care” older brother. Kuai Liang is the “wait wait wait, I'm sorry. You can hit me back. Calm down. You want some candy?” older brother

Fully aware he could cause terrible injuries but as time passes on, he relaxes more

Definitely play fought as a kid but after Tomas started jumping everytime he heard his voice, he thought “maybe I need new hobbies”.

You’ve interrupted his recovery

He actively focuses on holding back and being soft even if you tell him not to

“Hit me harder” “No❤”

Honestly a fun time though. He holds back when it comes to strength but still tussles with you. Also let's you get hits in even when he could easily dodge them.

If he accidentally injured you frfr, he's checking up on you immediately and says y'all stopping for today.

“No, I'm ok” “Can you even breathe right now?” “Uhhh… yes😀” “We're done”

For sure feels like an asshole depending on how bad you're hurt. He's not sliding down the wall in pain but he's like “damn, that was a little too hard”.

“You can hit me back” “No. I've seen Twilight” “What?” “It's gonna hurt me more than it's gonna hurt you. I'm not doing that”. (Now I wanna write you making them watch Twilight. I'm never gonna be rid of this addiction-)

You gotta hit him back so y'all can be even. It's the only way to move on

Y'all are not doing that shit again for at least another week or so.

“We gotta scrap right here right now” “No”

Does the thing older siblings do when they put their hand on your head so when you swing at them, you're just hitting air.

It's so infuriating so you gotta stop.

The next time though, you swear you're gonna win. You will not.

Tomas Vrbada

The most willing and having the most fun

Tomas has two older brothers that probably jumped him on several occasions growing up and you're gonna try and convince me he doesn't have aggression to get out?

People would probably expect he's the softest but no. He's the youngest. As the youngest myself I can assure you, we are used to putting our all in these fights cause we gotta use all our strength to defeat these evil mfs we live with. Sometimes it's not enough-

You're not his older sibling so he's not scrapping like his life depends on it but I do think he's hitting somewhat hard

Not as hard as Bi-Han, not as soft as Kuai Liang

You feel his hits but it's not knocking the wind outta you

Super fun cause he's also using the environment. Definitely is grabbing a pillow and starts swinging it at you. Definitely is running around the couch to chase you. Definitely has thrown you but made sure to aim at something soft. He's probably even turned off the lights then threw a folded blanket at you

“Cheater” “Don't be upset you didn't think of it first”

You're fighting but laughing at the same time. There's no real tension. Just fucking around.

Probably starts initiating it too

If he does injure you fr, for a split second he'd actually see it as a victory then he'd remember you're not his older brothers and is like “oh shit-”.

Injuring those two would mean freedom (or a worse jumping. really depends), injuring you is not good.

He knows how bad those hits can hurt so he makes sure you're alright. He's not watching you as much as Kuai Liang would but he'd still make sure you're not overly sore.

He doesn't feel as bad as Kuai Liang would cause he kinda knows this shit happens. Kuai Liang kinda got a little bit of guilt cause Tomas gets into a fighting stance when he raises his hand up. Tomas hasn't victimized anyone so he's more chill about these situations 😭

Tells you random ass stories about when he used to play fight with his brothers.

“One time Bi-Han threw me in the air and Kuai Liang jumped to catch me only to throw me against the wall”

“This reminds me of when Bi-Han swept my feet from under me and Kuai Liang jumped on me”

“What is it called when someone jumps on you elbow first?”

“This one time I woke up to them standing over me. I knew it was a wrap”

“One time Bi-Han slapped the back of my neck so hard, it was red for at least a week”

“One time Kuai Liang-” “Tomas… you need a therapist” “I don't think that's what it is”

Unlike Kuai Liang who makes you wait, he's cool with scrapping days later.

Actually says “time out” when he wants a break. Also says “time in” fast as fuck though to catch you off guard

Legit the most fun brother. I don't make the rules (except I do).

I did not mean to write the least for Kuai Liang but I was really brain empty for him. Y’all should give me ideas, thanks bookie

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cultofdixon · 6 months

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Matchmaker Grimes

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Carl Grimes’ Older Sister!Reader • Carl saw how close you and the archer were getting and thought he (with a little help from dad) he can get the two of you together • SFW/Smol Angst • TW: Anxiety

Requested by: Anon

“Y/N, mind doing me a favor?”

“If it’s something stupid I won’t do it Carl” Y/N scoffs in a playful manner to show her brother she wasn’t serious about turning down whatever it may be. Even if the silence wasn’t going to get her to do what he wants of her. “Dude. Spit it out”

“Shit, sorry. Mind checking the snares? Dad asked me to ask you”

“Then why did you phrase it in wanting me to do you a favor?”

“I panicked and forgot that dad asked me to ask you. I just remembered that it was him asking—-“

“You’re scrambling. But yeah I’ll go take care of it” Y/N shooed him away so that she could get ready in private, even if the blanket curtain for a cell door wasn’t enough privacy.

As the eldest Grimes sibling made her way outside the gates of the prison to check the snares for her father. She noticed the archer setting up new ones after re-setting up the old ones.

Daryl looked up when he heard a throat clear, finally noticing Y/N as he straightens up. “Uh. Rick asked me—-“

“Oh, funny. My dad asked me to do it…too” Y/N tried not to be so nervous around the archer when talking to him.

“I could use a hand though, so you’re perfect—-“ Daryl himself was nervous around the eldest Grimes sibling. “I-I mean it’s…perfect. You…you can help. Yeah”

While that was happening, Rick was currently on watch as he had a pair of binoculars checking the parameter from his tower and more specifically watching the two take care of the snares. They were getting quite a bit of game and while they were out they took care of a few walkers that threatened the fence.

“Anything?” Carl questions the moment he arrived as Rick handed the binoculars to his son.

“Yea know I can’t hear anything right?”

“No shit dad!”

“Language”

“Whatever. I just wanna know if they are talking to each other. I don’t gotta hear what they’re saying” Carl states looking into the binoculars checking on the two himself.

As Y/N finished setting up the last snare she noticed Daryl staring into the prison but more specifically the watch tower. She brought herself to stand beside him curious to what he was looking at.

“Why does your brother have binoculars?”

“Cuz he’s a weirdo. I don’t know” Y/N watching Carl put away the binoculars by shoving them into his dad’s side.

“It’d be weirder if he had one of those…uhhh…”

“A listening device? Aren’t they called bugs?”

“I was thinkin’ the microphone things cops had in old cop films. For spyin’” Daryl adjusted his crossbow on his back as Y/N crosses her arms watching her family scramble in the watchtower.

“I miss movies”

“Yea had a favorite film?”

“Guess” Y/N smiles at Daryl watching his expression soften while in thought.

“Were yea one of them twilight girls?”

“Ew no” She laughs at the guess as Daryl felt a twitch of a smile Grace his face when hearing her laugh. “Lori was obsessed with the books. But as for my favorite movie, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”

“Jim Carrey fan?”

“No, I just really enjoyed the film. I could probably recite it by heart I’ve seen it a lot” Y/N started to make her way back to the main gates with Daryl following shortly behind while carrying the catches the traps caught.

“Uhm…think yea could recite it to me like…sometime or whatever”

“Sure, after dinner?” Y/N’s smile he will take to memory. She watches him nod with a hint of his smile peaking out. “Cool”

The night came in and dinner was made with the rabbits they’ve caught in the snares. It was put into a stew with some of the vegetables they grew in the gardens. Some of the people were eating outside and some were inside…Carl found himself sitting outside at the table with his dad and baby sister with the Greenes and Rhees. He was watching Y/N talking to Carol at another table with Daryl sitting with them.

“Carl”

Carl quickly snapped back to the table he was at seeing a few laugh at his attention being elsewhere.

“Sorry what?”

“You gotta eat, son” Rick laughs a bit as he held Judith giving her a bottle. “We’re running out of formula”

“She should be able to start takin’ solids soon but in mush form. We do have carrots coming in” Hershel adds his input as he enjoys the dinner.

“Think we should have a run set up. Just a quick one to see if there’s anymore formula out there before weening her off”

“Glenn and I—-“

“Y/N and Daryl don’t have morning watch tomorrow. They can go on a quick run. I’ll go tell them” Carl quickly got up from his seat making his way over to their table.

Glenn couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him catching everyone’s attention at their picnic table. “Sorry sorry”

“What it’s cute that he’s trying to set them up” Beth was quick to add as that caught Rick’s attention instantly.

“Y’all know what he’s doing?”

“It’s obvious”

“And boy are those two oblivious” Maggie smiles at the two before turning back to her table failing to contain her laughter. “Glenn and I have tried before. But we honestly thought you’d have a problem with it”

“Or it’ll blow up in our faces because it’s the apocalypse and locking the two in an abandoned house can lead to a walker being shoved out a window” Glenn avoided eye contact as that would explain the time Y/N had to get stitches. “Ruined the mood”

“I don’t have a problem with it.“ Rick states setting the bottle down and getting up from his seat to take Judith inside. “I’d only have a problem if he hurts her”

A few hours passed and everyone was inside for the night, Daryl was getting off his watch about to light a cig when he noticed Y/N sitting alone outside. He quickly discarded the cigarette while making his way over to her in the fields.

“Hey”

Y/N looks up from her lap giving Daryl a tired smile before returning her attention onto the book she had in her lap.

“You okay?” He asks bringing himself to sit with her hearing a ‘Mhm’ as a response. “Mind if I sit with yea?”

“Not at all” she smiles watching him the best she could given the barely any light from the solar powered lantern she found from the last run.

Daryl brought himself close bringing his attention to the pictures she was fiddling with hidden in the pages.

“Who’s that?”

“My mom with Lori, then this one” Y/N handed one over to Daryl as he brought it more toward her lantern to get a look. “Carl and I when I was moving out”

“Yea look happy…how’d these manage to survive this long? If yea don’t mind me askin’”

“I know how to take care of my shit” Y/N laughs dryly being handed the photo back as she put it back in a small copy of Flowers for Algernon. No correlation, just know her dad or brother would pick up the book. “My coat has an inside pocket big enough to hold the book I keep them in. Only take it off to sleep so it’s always on me”

“Smart. Kinda like the vest I’ve got. It’ll stay intact as long as it’s with me.”

“The wings suit you by the way. Being a guardian angel of sorts” Y/N smiles listening to him scoff followed by a short lived chuckle. “Ever gonna trust someone to wear them? You do trust Carol to clean it”

“Eh she just showed me how to take care of it. To avoid the wings tearing off…but yeah I’ve got someone in mind, I’d trust to wear’em”

“Oh yeah?” Y/N smiles at the archer not getting an answer of who as the silence grew slightly between them before she took a risk bringing herself beside him resting her head on his shoulder. “They must be pretty special”

She is Daryl tensed at first contact but relaxed after a second watching her curl into his side.

The morning came and Y/N stepped out of the watchtower from taking over Maggie’s morning shift ending just in time to go on the quick run with Daryl. He sat on his bike listening to what they needed to look for from Rick as he brought his attention to Y/N approaching.

“So you know what to—-“

“Get. Now you get” Daryl gestures with his head for Rick to leave as he gave him a confused look before turning to his daughter coming over and left with an amused chuckle escaping him.

Daryl straightens up gripping onto the helmet in his hands as Y/N instantly beams at the archer.

“You look ready”

“Oh I—If you ain’t I can—“

“No I’m good. I’m ready” She continues to smile as Daryl handed her the helmet. “Now why do you have this for me but not yourself?”

“You’re sitting behind me, sunshine. Can’t have yea getting brain damage falling off”

“Hey this isn’t my first time riding yknow”

“Oh?” Daryl smirks bringing himself forward so that Y/N can hop on once she got her helmet secured. “Wouldn’t have pegged yea to be the rebellious type with a dad like that”

“Mm I got away with a lot” Y/N giggles to herself about to wrap her arms around Daryl when she turned back to find Rick looking at the two. “CAN YEA GET THE GATES OLD MAN?”

The archer couldn’t help himself by laughing at her words as his mind drew a blank instantly when she wrapped her arms around his torso.

“Old man really?” Rick comments with a bit of a snicker while passing to get the gate.

Soon the two were off and Carl brought himself to the gates once they closed.

“I’ve got a plan if this doesn’t work”

“I bet yea it will given it’s just them”

“Yeah well. I’m still gonna do my plan and it’s about tonight’s night shifts. Daryl is right after Y/N’s.”

“I’m listening” Rick started to walk back to the prison listening to his son’s plan, knowing part of it will probably not matter given these two being alone now?

Gives them enough time to say something

Do something Daryl thought as he follows Y/N through a mini grocery watching her take everything that would benefit their group. Still keeping an eye out for what Rick asked Daryl to find.

“Hey uh Y/N I—-“

“I love you” Y/N blurted to Daryl as she was taking her own chances but when he didn’t respond right away, she decided to scramble and head further into the building. “Sorry!”

“Nah wait” Daryl quickly followed after her through the market as she always managed to get further ahead. “Y/N Damn it! Stop runnin’ from me please” he finally managed to cut her off as it led to her practically running into him.

“Shit sorry—“

“No I’m sorry, Y/N. Shit yea caught me off guard a moment ago—-“

“Yeah I get that and I totally get it if you don’t—-“

“Stop!” Daryl snapped, murmuring a few apologies when it caused her to flinch. He held her shoulders watching her eyes avoid his as he gently held her chin with his right hand making her look at him. “Yea caught me off guard. I-I was gonna say the same…just Uhm. Never thought you’d feel the same way”

“I…” Y/N exhaled a small laugh before bringing her hands to carefully hold his face. “I just wanted a moment alone with you to tell you and felt that something has been pushing me to this.”

“I felt that too” Daryl brought his hands to rest on her hips bringing her close. “I…fuck, you beat me to it earlier” he chuckles lightly smiling, simply enjoying her laugh and feeling her hands move to behind his neck. “But god I love yea. I love you so much”

“Kiss me then, Dixon” Y/N smiles as the archer didn’t hesitate to bring his lips against hers loving every part of her even more keeping her close.

“Yea think they’ve gotten into some trouble?” Rick asks Hershel as it’s been hours. What was supposed to be a quick run, turned into them being gone for hours.

“Are you worried about your daughter? She’s proven to be strong enough to care for herself, Rick. And Daryl’s with her.”

Rick continued to pace the gardens while Hershel kept the upkeep on their veggies being a listening ear to his friend’s concern.

“I should go out there”

“Yea shouldn’t. If they don’t surface tomorrow, then a few of us can go look for them.” Hershel grabbed some mulch from his bucket and started to place it in the soil when he brought his attention to the familiar roar of Daryl’s bike. “Don’t have to send a party out” he states watching Rick sprint over to the gates.

“The fuck happen to a quick ru—-Where’s my daughter, Dixon?” He only ever used Daryl’s last name when he was pissed and the conversation included Y/N.

“Are you blind?” Daryl scoffs bringing his bike to its usual spot as Rick quickly turns to the car coming through having Y/N in the drivers.

As the car pulls in and Y/N stepped out after parking it, Rick instantly grabbed her into a hug out of sudden anxiety for her safety as she awkwardly pats his back wanting him to stop.

“I didn’t die”

“You gotta stop saying that” Rick sighs pulling away and checking her for injuries as she gently pushes him back. “Sorry”

“You worry too much, old man. But look at what we brought back” Y/N gestures for him to check out their findings in the trunk and as she listens to Rick being grateful that they decided to stick outside the walls longer to get more of what they need, she looked over to Daryl seeing him crouched by his bike checking it out after the ride looking over to her.

The archer shot her a smile as she returned it followed by a wink before turning to her dad talking about the blankets they found and giving them to the kids they have at the prison. While all that happens, Carl who stood by the entrance to their cellblock from the outside, noticed their small exchange and quickly went to Daryl knowing his sister wouldn’t hear what he’s about to say.

“You break my sister’s heart and I end you” Carl suddenly stated to the man who gave him a confused look before he could fully take in what he said.

“I’ll never break your sister’s heart”

“You better. Cuz I’m fucking serious” Carl crosses his arms. “I will end you”

Daryl scoffs as he removes one of his knifes from their slot handing it to Carl and with his normal serious tone.

“If I ever, EVER, do wrong by your sister? You know exactly what to do with that”

And on that note Daryl went to help his girl and Rick with unloading the goods from the “new” car they brought. Carl stood there watching and fiddled with the knife in his hand. Knowing he’s never gonna have to use it.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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kishibe-kisser · 9 months

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Baths with the Genshin boys (Part 3) Kazuha, Tartaglia, Thoma, Zhongli

Tags: gender neutral, baths, quite wholesome, maybe some suggestive touches, nothing too intense

Part 1 / Part 2

Kazuha: He was the most calm person you had ever met, Kazuha believed that being relaxed and calm was the best way to go through life. Being with you? That was one of his stress relievers and even just walking you take a bath was relaxing.

Your head rested on the side of the tub, watching him as he read a new book to you. He was sitting directly next to the tub, reaching out every now and then to hold your hand. You were falling asleep, his calming voice just making you drowsy.

"My love, you can't fall asleep in the bath." He said softly, putting the book down and moving to hold your face. "Hmm, why not?" You hummed, drowsily opening your eyes to look at him. He was smiling at you, stroking your cheeks. You knew exactly why you couldn't sleep in the tub, you were just tired.

You pouted your lips, silently asking for a kiss and he obliged. Pushing your hair out of your face before picking his book up again. You sank back into the bath fully for a moment, letting out a yawn that didn't go unnoticed by him.

"How about we go lay in bed? I'll read to you, hold you, you can fall asleep?"

Tartaglia/Childe: "That tickles!" You laughed, feeling his fingers trace over your back and drawing shapes. "Go on, guess what I drew." He laughed, taking note of the goosebumps on your skin. "Uhhh, a sweet flower?" You asked, glancing back at him and he nodded his head.

You were wrong but he wasn't going to tell you that, pulling you back into him to give you a hug. He burried his face into your neck, nuzzling you with his nose. The action tickled you and you thrashed in the water slightly, trying to get away from him again.

"No, no, I'll stop." Childe laughed, letting you settle into his arms on your own. "You know, I've really been wanting to visit home." He admitted, as you used some of the bubbles to put on his head to mimic his mask. "You want to see Snezhnaya again?" You asked him, the conversation turning more serious. You loved the vulnerable conversations with him and you couldn't get more vulnerable than naked in bath.

"Yeah I want to go home. But I still have so much to do here." He explained and you started to gently rinse the bubbles from his hair. He always sounded a little sad when discussing"Snezhnaya always sounds so nice. I want to meet your family." You smiled and watched as he smiled fondly.

"They already love you. They want to meet you too."

Thoma: "Are you sure they won't mind?" You asked, Thoma's hand pulling you through the Kamisato's bath house. "Of course! Ayato guaranteed 100% privacy." He smiled, despite being able to tell you were still hesitant.

You had to admit though, the bathhouse smelled amazing from the soap and oil concoction he had put together for you. However even as you stood in front of the steaming bath, you still had your hesitations. Thoma really didn't have to go through the trouble.

"Before you say anything, you've been stressed and I want to do something nice for you." He said, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "You're going to join me though, right?" You asked, appreciating the gesture even more now that you could see his eyes get wide at your question.

"I- uh-" He was flustered as you started undressing, dipping into the nice and warm water. "You said we have guaranteed privacy..." You said, leaning over the tub and looking at him. "Might as well make use of it, right?" You added on and Thoma felt himself starting to laugh.

"It would be a waste if we didn't."

Zhongli: He was a gentleman in every sense of the word, so when you proposed taking a bath together he had to think about it. Zhongli didn't want to impose on you in any way.

"If I'm making you uncomfortable in any way, let me know." His deep voice filled your ears. He couldn't make you uncomfortable, truly. You were overjoyed to have convinced him to join you. The sight of him was simply gorgeous as you looked at him from the other side of the bath.

"You have yet to make me uncomfortable." You remarked, your legs resting over his. You could feel his hand drawing shapes over your ankles, finding the whole scene very intimate and exactly what you wanted. "So you wanted to do this for... intimacy?" He asked, cocking his head at you. He always wanted to understand you better.

"Yeah, I wanted us to do something. Something only the two of us can do." You explained, watching as his eyes flit over your face. He always took in every detail of you and now was no exception. This was doing wonders for your intimacy, he was seeing you in a new way and he loved it.

"Pardon me interupting, but you look absolutely beautiful like this."

A/N: The last part!!! I hope you guys enjoyed my first attempts at writing for the Genshin character!!! Please let me know what you think

#genshin x reader #genshin reaction #kazuha #kazuha x reader #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #childe #childe x reader #thoma #thoma x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 2 years

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Date Night Surprises

Pairing: Eddie Brock x Reader x Venom

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: uhhh okay where to begin lmao PWP, tentacle fucking(?), semi-public, voyeurism, exhibitionism, degradation, praise, they're both so foul, dubcon maybe I hope I got them all but this was so self indulgent lmao

Genre: SMUT some fluff too but mostly just smut lmao

Summary: Venom wants to surprise you during date night

A/N: So for those of you keeping up with my fic rec blog you might have noticed I've fallen into a Venom hole lately. Did I plan on going down this path? No but then I saw a post about one of Venom's kinks would be touching you in public if you were his host and I simply had to see that concept actualized so here we ARE

***

You swipe gloss over your lipstick as you look at your outfit. You're wearing a tight black ruched dress with a plunging v-neckline. Your black heels make you a few inches taller but not taller than your date. You grab your purse and head to your living room where your boyfriend is waiting on the couch.

"Hey! You ready to go sweetness?" Eddie stands, slipping his phone into his pocket.

"Yeah just about!" You smile giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"You look fucking gorgeous." His eyes trail down your body appreciatively.

"Thank you! You look good too, as always." You tell him. He's wearing a button-up shirt and dress pants, it's a smart look.

"Knock it off!" Eddie snaps over his shoulder.

"Woah!" You chuckle.

"Sorry princess, that wasn't directed at you." Eddie sighs.

"No, I know. Lover's quarrel?" You smile. Eddie places his hands on your hips and shakes his head.

"He drives me nuts just a bit."

"Yeah?" You place a hand on his cheek, trying to be empathetic without making Venom think you're siding with Eddie. Eddie huffs and throws his hands up in the air.

"Alright, can I run something by you?" He tucks his hands under his arms, a nervous tick of his that usually he only does when it's something serious.

"Of course you can honey, is it work related? Because we can talk about it at dinner if it is. I don't wanna be late." You tell him.

"It's not work related and we actually need to discuss it before we leave."

"Okay, what's going on Eddie? Is everything alright?"

"Venom has an- idea that he's demanding I talk to you about." Eddie looks like he's forcing the words out of his mouth.

"Okay well, what is it? You guys are so dramatic." You muse.

"He wants to- change hosts for date night."

"What like he wants to skip it? Is V getting tired of my company?" You joke though you are confused by Eddie's explanation.

"Actually quite the opposite. He wants you to be his host tonight and I told him there was absolutely no way we could ask you to do that but he won't let it go so I'm asking you before he does something rash." Eddie sighs. Venom has been part of your relationship for most of the two years since your first date with Eddie but this is something you've never explored.

"Me?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I have no idea. He won't tell me. Look, this- whole thing is weird, I mean, having one inside you, it's weird. You don't have to do this okay?"

"I know I don't have to." You tell him. "Hey Venom? Can you come out here so we can chat real quick?" You ask and you just barely catch Eddie's tight-lipped expression before he's surrounded by the black goo you've become pretty familiar with. You have to step back to accommodate the dramatic difference in size between Eddie and Venom.

"HELLO LITTLE CHOCOLATE DROP!"

"Hello Venom." You place your hand on his cheek gently. "What exactly are you planning sweetie?"

"IT'S A SURPRISE."

"For me or for Eddie?" You quirk an eyebrow at him curiously.

"BOTH!"

"And this surprise requires you to be in my body?"

"YES!"

"V," you sigh.

"DO YOU NOT TRUST ME LITTLE ONE?!"

"Of course I do! Eddie's not fond of surprises though you know that."

"I KNOW BUT HE WILL LIKE THIS ONE!"

"Fine, we can do it, but only for dinner. When we get home you'll go back to Eddie. Understood?"

"PERFECT!" Venom wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you towards him. He practically lifts you in the air as he kisses you and you feel a strange indescribable feeling as Venom transfers from Eddie to you. You let out an involuntary groan as you feel Venom bind himself to you.

"God y/n are you okay?" Eddie holds your arms, worry clear on his face as he takes in your look of discomfort.

"Fine- I'm fine. That was just weird." You shake your head as you start to get familiar with the feeling.

"I told you it was weird." Eddie chuckles.

I LIKE IT HERE! I'M USED TO BEING IN YOUR BODY FROM OUTSIDE OF IT. Venom's voice rings loudly in your head and you can't stop the shocked look on your face at his words.

"What's with that look?" Eddie muses.

"Venom said something crude. Nothing new. We should go, or we're gonna be late E." You tell him grabbing your keys and heading to the door.

"I can't believe you let Venom make you his host. How did he even know you'd be able to handle it?" Eddie asks as you head downstairs to your car. Eddie rides his bikes most of the time but when you're not dressed for it you guys will take your car, which he usually insists on driving.

SOMETIMES YOU JUST KNOW THESE THINGS!

"He says sometimes you just know." You shrug.

LITTLE ONE?

Yes, Venom?

EDDIE LIKES TO IGNORE ME WHEN I TALK. YOU WON'T IGNORE ME LIKE HIM WILL YOU?

You chuckle at Venom's request.

"What's so funny?" Eddie asks.

"Venom is complaining because you ignore him." You tell Eddie.

"Oh is he now? Well, he can complain all he wants, since he's not in my head anymore I don't want to hear what he has to say the rest of the night."

HE'S GOING TO WANT TO WHEN HE HAS TO THANK ME LATER. TELL HIM I SAID THAT.

"Venom says you're going to want to when you thank him later."

"What did I just say?" Eddie scoffs.

"I mean, first of all you're going to get him back later tonight so you can only ignore him for so long. Secondly, I figured you should hear that one because the host switch was because of some surprise he's got planned for the both of us." You shrug.

"I don't think I even wanna know what he's planning." Eddie scoffs.

"Aw come on now, I'm sure whatever Venom's got planned is gonna be great."

"Have you met Venom? There's no way it's a good idea." Eddie shakes his head.

HEY!

"Eddie don't be mean." You scold playfully. Eddie rolls his eyes. At this point you've arrived at the restaurant and whatever Eddie might have said to defend his point he drops when the host asks him for the reservation.

TELL EDDIE WE WANT TO SIT IN ONE OF THE BOOTHS

Does it matter V?

YES

You sigh and grab Eddie's shirt lightly before he can address the host.

"Venom would like us to sit at one of the half circle booths if possible." You whisper to him.

"What? Why?" Eddie frowns.

"I don't know but he insists it matters." You shrug. Eddie sighs and speaks to the host, who has no problem sitting you in a booth as requested. You order your food quickly and as soon as you're alone again Eddie leans closer to you.

"How are you feeling? With the whole Venom thing."

"I'm fine E, it's not like Venom would ever hurt me. It takes a little getting used to but it's fine." You shrug.

"If anything starts to feel- you know wrong at any point let me know, and we'll switch back immediately."

"Thank you Eddie." You smile at him. "So how's work? You and Venom eat any bad guys lately?"

"Well technically I don't eat them."

WE HAVEN'T EATEN ANYONE! HE'S SUCH A PUSSY.

You snicker at Venom's almost whiny voice in your head.

TELL HIM I THINK HE'S A PUSSY

"Venom thinks you're a pussy for not letting him eat people." You say through barely hidden laughter. A waiter comes by with your dinners and Eddie waits for him to disappear before he responds.

"We literally haven't done anything involving bad guys. Who was he supposed to eat? Mrs. Chen?" Eddie huffs.

"I honestly don't know how you manage to keep a straight face with Venom chatting in your head like this all the time. He's kind of hilarious." You shake your head.

"You can say that because he's so sweet on you he'd never argue over your every decision." Eddie rolls his eyes.

I WOULDN'T ARGUE IF HE MADE GOOD DECISIONS LIKE YOU LITTLE ONE

Thank you Venom you smile to yourself as you respond to him in your head. You remember to take bites of your food as you and Eddie continue to talk.

"So what have you been up to then? If you're not catching bad guys?" You ask, your attention so focused on Eddie that you don't notice the tendril coming out from you under the table. It's not until the tendril presses against your clit that you know it's there and you have to strangle a gasp at the feeling.

"Nothing terribly interesting just-" Eddie's words trail as he notices your body tense up. "Babe? You okay?" He frowns.

"I'm fine, keep talking." You tell him, struggling to keep your voice steady as Venom toys with the little bundle of nerves between your legs.

Venom what the hell are you doing

SHHH JUST LET ME MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD

I'm trying to talk to Eddie and you're distracting!

BUT YOU DON'T WANT ME TO STOP. I CAN TELL, YOUR BODY IS BEGGING FOR MORE.

"Y/n?" Eddie's voice ends your conversation with Venom.

"Yes? Sorry? Did you ask me something?" You blink at him.

"Princess, what's going on? Seriously."

TELL HIM. Venom's command is paired with increased speed against your sensitive nub.

"It's just- ah, Venom." You say dismissively.

TELL HIM WHAT I'M DOING LITTLE ONE! Another tendril begins prodding at your entrance.

"Do you need us to switch back? Are you hurt? What's he doing to you?" Eddie's voice is frantic as he looks at you.

"I'm fine E- I promise. It's just- Venom has decided to entertain himself a little bit." You grit out as Venom begins fucking you with one tendril while the other keeps playing with your clit.

"What do you-" Eddie stops when you finally let out a quiet whine. "Y/n, is Venom, touching you right now?" Eddie's voice is low as he asks.

"He's ah- he's actually fucking me." You whimper as Venom picks up the speed of his tendril moving between your walls. You lean forward slightly, gripping the edge of the table, the pulsing appendage inside you quickly becoming overwhelming. Eddie leans back, an amused smirk on his lips as he watches your reactions.

"Venom, is this why you wanted to switch hosts tonight?" Eddie asks.

SURPRISE!

"H-he said surpr- surprise." You knock your head back against the booth, your breathing unsteady as you speak.

SIT UP! LOOK AT EDDIE!

Venom please- Even your internal voice sounds needy as you try to reason with him, the feeling of him filling you is so distracting.

I SAID SIT UP! Tendrils make quick work of forcing you into the desired position.

"God you look gorgeous." Eddie says, resting his head in his hand to watch you closely. Venom's pace is unrelenting as he continues to growl sinful things in your head. "Venom you should see what you're doing to her." Eddie says.

I CAN FEEL EVERY OUNCE OF PLEASURE YOU FEEL. IT'S BETTER THAN SEEING IT! TELL HIM.

"H-he can feel m-my pleasure. B-better than ssseeing it." You stutter out to Eddie.

LOOK AT HOW HE'S LOOKING AT YOU. HE WANTS TO EAT YOU MORE THAN I DO!

You force your eyes open to take in the way Eddie is watching you over the table. His eyes are dark and full of desire and the look makes you clench around Venom.

"Eddie- it's too much." You whimper.

"Too much? I think you can take it. We do much worse at home." Eddie taunts you.

"We aren't at home!" You yelp, jolting forward slightly when Venom thickens the tentacle that's thrusting in and out of you.

"Well then you should try not to be too loud. Isn't that right princess?"

"Fucking hell." You sigh out, trying to temper the tightening coil in your core.

DON'T FIGHT ME LITTLE ONE.

"Venom- slow down. P-please." You moan shakily.

"She can take it V. In fact, I think she can take more." Eddie smirks.

"Eddie!" You look at him, gasping when Venom follows his suggestion and thrusts harder into you and increases the circles he's been drawing on your clit. "oh my god." You whisper, dropping your head.

"Look at me princess." Eddie coaxes, leaning across the table long enough to tilt your head up by the chin. "Such a pretty thing, all fucked out and desperate. Ready to fall apart for me, for us."

HE'S RIGHT. WATCHING YOU FALL APART IS OUR FAVORITE THING.

"Venom, don't totally wreck her. We'll finish her off at home." Eddie commands. "But, you are going to cum at this table princess."

"Eddie please-" You whimper, feeling your face heat at the suggestion that you're going to do something like that in public. You're sitting somewhat in a corner of the restaurant where no one can really see you but still, you worry you'll draw too much attention to yourself if this goes on much longer.

YOU LIKE THIS DON'T YOU? YOU BEG US TO SLOW DOWN BUT WE KNOW THE TRUTH. YOU LIKE BEING TOYED WITH THIS WAY, EVEN IN PUBLIC. ANYONE COULD SEE YOU AND STILL YOU WANT TO CUM. YOU ARE SUCH A SLUT FOR US.

You whine loudly at Venom's words, letting your head fall to the table for a moment before you manage to say anything.

"You're both so vile it's not fair." You pout.

"Aw is Venom teasing you too princess? What did he say baby?"

TELL HIM LITTLE ONE. TELL HIM I KNOW HOW BADLY YOU WANT TO CUM. TELL HIM YOU'RE A DESPERATE SLUT FOR US.

"H-he knows how b-badly I want to cum, e-even in public."

"And do you? Want to cum princess?" Eddie asks.

"Yes. So badly." You whimper.

BEG FOR IT SWEET ONE. BEG US TO LET YOU CUM.

"Ah! Pl-please. Eddie, Venom- please, please let me cum."

"You're begging now? You gonna make a mess all over that seat? God you are such a slut."

"Venom agrees." You mutter.

"Does he now? Good. It's true. You are a slut. Our slut. Isn't that right princess?" Eddie slides over in the booth so he's beside you rather than in front of you, but you hardly notice as Venom continues to fuck you under the table.

"Yes." You pant out to him.

"Yes what baby? Say it."

"I- I'm your slut." Venom responds with increased pressure on your clit that has you jolting forward with a moan.

"Good girl."

"Can I cum Eddie? Please?"

"Go ahead princess, show me how good you are. Cum for us like the good little whore we know you are for us." Eddie says, his voice is deceptively sweet as he gives the filthy command.

"V-Venom?" You whine out loud even though you don't need to.

"Be nice V. She's been good." Eddie coaxes.

GO AHEAD SWEETNESS CUM FOR US. LET EDDIE SEE HOW GOOD IT FEELS.

Venom pairs his words with harsher thrusts that force you ever the edge. A tendril covers your mouth as you convulse in your seat, preventing your moans from being heard by other patrons. You try to control your orgasm but they'd worked you up so much you can't help the sounds coming from your lips.

"That's it gorgeous. So good for us. And so beautiful." Eddie's words gently bring you back to reality as the aftershocks of your release finally quiet down.

YOU DID GREAT LITTLE ONE.

"You guys will surely be the death of me." You chuckle breathlessly.

NO. WE WON'T LET YOU DIE.

"Alright, I think we need to get you home sweetheart." Eddie says flagging down a server to request your check. He makes quick work of paying the bill and helping you to the car despite your unsteady legs.

"You both are terrible." You shake your head as Eddie starts the car, finally recovered enough to talk.

"Hey I didn't even know this was going to happen! It was a surprise for both of us remember? But I'm not going to miss a chance to watch you fall apart like that." Eddie kisses your temple quickly at a red light.

"Menaces. Absolute menaces. Take your buddy back. You're even worse when you're apart."

"I'm driving darling. I'll take him back when we get home. V leave her be for the drive back. If you're nice to her now you can take the reigns at home." Venom appears behind your shoulder to respond to Eddie directly.

"PROMISE?" Venom asks him.

"Yeah, I promise." Eddie chuckles.

"DEAL! I'M GOING TO RUIN YOU SWEET ONE!"

"We, Venom." Eddie corrects.

"WE- BUT MOSTLY ME."

You chuckle at the both of them, content with this reprieve you have now, knowing you're in for a very long night.

***

#venom fanfiction #venom x reader #venom #eddie brock x reader x venom #marvel #marvel fanfiction #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock #eddie brock fanfic #venom smut #venom fluff #eddie brock smut #Eddie Brock fluff

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primofate · 2 years

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“Can I date Y/N, please?” [Genshin Impact - Diluc and Kaeya’s sibling edition]

Summary: In which your potential Genshin lover asks your Genshin sibling(s) if he can date you.

Characters: Diluc and Kaeya as your brothers, Aether, Albedo, Venti, Bonus: Tartaglia, gn!reader

Notes: There was a similar request a while ago but for the volleyball AU, I might do that or I might not but what are your thoughts on this brand new brainrot I have? I felt like I just needed a change of pace about what I write, needed something platonic-ish but also cute and funny??? idk. These days I feel like my genre is changing a little, or I just need a break from romance.

Warnings: crack elements, fluff, overprotective siblings, alcohol consumption, Diluc and Kaeya are civil towards each other, complicated deception in Tartaglia’s part, I only mixed and matched certain characters cause I thought those would be particularly interesting, some are longer than the others cause I enjoyed writing it more.

Your brothers: Diluc & Kaeya

Who wants to date you: Aether

“Relaaaaaaax, you’ve fought a giant dragon before, this is nothing!” Easy for Paimon to say, Aether thinks. Not for him, when he was going to ask Diluc and Kaeya for their blessings to date you. The Kaeya part, not too bad. The Diluc part...Aether didn’t know what to think.

“H-Hey, you two! C-Can I talk to you, real quick?” As the night descends Aether finds Diluc and Kaeya outside of the tavern, sharing a table together, like you said they would on Friday nights.

Kaeya’s eyes light up, tipping his glass of wine over to Aether, delighted that the traveller had decided to join them this evening. “Look who it is,” his voice, smooth as ever glides towards Aether. Diluc glances over to Aether, moves a glass over to the empty seat and curtly says “Take a seat,”

Aether feels a lump on his throat as he sits quite stiffly. Paimon seems to have stiffened up too, her talk of being brave all down the drain. “To what do we owe the pleasure tonight?” Kaeya asks while asking Aether if he wanted wine or grape juice. Aether opted for the wine, feeling as if he needed more liquid courage.

“Uhhh...” Aether starts, watching as Kaeya poured the wine, eyes darting up to Diluc who was also looking at Aether expectantly. “Well, ummm... nothing major, or dangerous, really...” he lets out a nervous laugh, tips his head as thanks towards Kaeya when he finished pouring and adds, “It’s just...about Y/N,”

Both of your siblings’ heads snap up to attention and in unison they say, “What about them?” Suddenly the fresh air seems to have disappeared despite sitting outdoors and Aether’s hands start to feel a little clammy. It looks as if neither Kaeya nor Diluc breathes, just staring at Aether to continue, blank looks on their faces.

“They...uh...They’re really nice company, you see.” Aether starts, hands coming together on top of the table, eyes darting back and forth towards Diluc then Kaeya. Their blank expressions haven’t changed.

Aether clears his throat and continues. “And, well, simply said they...They’re really nice, really...” Aether remembers you in his mind’s eye, and for a split moment he looks to be in a trance, thinking of how his heart palpitates just at the sight of you. “Really charming...Y/N is just... so...” he snaps out of his daydream immediately and straightens up again, remembering he’s in front of your siblings and it was not the right time to be dreamy-eyed right now.

But Diluc seemed to have a look of realization on his face, Kaeya chuckles and pours himself another glass of wine. Neither of them say anything, letting the traveller finish his sentence. “...Sorry,” Aether clears his throat again, “I...I’d simply like your permission to date them. Uhm...We’ve been on a few dates already, actually... I just...” Aether averts his eyes when he feels the heat on his cheeks. “I’m serious about Y/N, I just wanted to let you two know,”

There’s a moment of silence, just the sound of Kaeya sipping on his wine and clinking his glass back down on the table, before he spoke up. “Come now, traveller, you don’t think we haven’t noticed?” he grins.

“Huh?” Aether lets out, dumbfounded.

“Y/N’s been going out more frequently, it isn’t difficult to notice,” Diluc responds, closing his eyes as he takes a sip of his grape juice too. “Besides, the two of you walk around town quite often. I didn’t think it was such a big secret,”

“O-Oh...” Aether laughs nervously and scratches the back of his head. “S-So, you’re okay with it?”

“Well not so fast there, my friend!” Kaeya seems to be the more jovial one. Seems to be the one who is “okay” with everything, but on closer inspection there’s a glint in his eye, whilst Diluc actually looks calmer and more put together. “Do you really know our Y/N that well? Let’s test your knowledge, shall we?” Kaeya proposes, to which Diluc holds back a sigh. One of his silly games again, it seems.

“Kaeya here might want to test you, traveller...but I have no qualms with your relationship with Y/N......Provided that Y/N’s happy...but you have a lot of things on your hands,” Diluc’s gaze hardened for a split moment, and Aether knew what he was implying.

Aether’s search for his sister, his journey across nations and his adventuring were all a big part of his life. “Are you sure you have adequate space for Y/N in your life? If not...then I suggest you reconsider,”

It was more of a threat than anything, but Aether knew where it was coming from. What did he expect, trying to go through your two brothers who seemed like night and day, and yet similarly protective of you? Kaeya cuts the tension with a laugh. “Serious as always. See, all you have to do to get my blessing is to play a game with me, traveller,”

“Are you two trying to bully Aether?” The three of them swerve towards your voice as you stand there with your hands on your hips, eyes furrowed, shooting a concerned glance towards Aether. “I was getting worried when you didn’t show up at our meeting place,”

“No such thing,” Kaeya beams at you and Diluc casually shakes his head. “Not at all,” then they went back to drinking their respective drinks.

You sigh and place a hand on Aether’s shoulder. “I told you, you didn’t have to do this, they’re just going to make your life harder. I can date who I want, you know?” you smile at him reassuringly but Aether laughs nervously, feeling sweat on his temples.

“Come on, let’s go. Leave these two behind, they’ll get over it!” You insist, tugging on Aether’s sleeve and he complies as you turn to walk away first.

Aether turns back around to bid your brothers’ goodbye, only to find that they’re sporting rather eerie and perfect grins on their faces.

“See you around, traveller. Watch your step,”

Who wants to date you: Albedo

“You want to date Y/N?” The surprise in Kaeya’s voice is obvious. He didn’t think the alchemist was one to be interested in such things, but the fact that he had come out of his lab and visited Kaeya over at his personal office in the Favonius HQ, Kaeya had a feeling that Albedo was more than just interested.

“Yes,” The blonde replied curtly. Kaeya thought there was more of an explanation, but none followed and it was merely just himself and the alchemist just staring at each other now.

“...Is there...any reason for that?” Kaeya pries, not willing to just say yes so easily when it didn’t even seem like Albedo showed any genuine interest towards you aside from his words.

“A reason...you say?” Albedo thinks out loud, his hand coming up to rest under his chin. A few seconds pass by and as much as Kaeya respected Albedo and saw him as a good ally, his application to date you wasn’t going very well, until he started speaking again.

“...Truthfully I don’t understand it very clearly myself,” the Kreidiprinz starts. “It’s a rather peculiar feeling...of wanting Y/N by my side,” Albedo turns away and looks off into a faraway distance. “I enjoy Y/N’s observations, their ramblings, their view on certain things in life...but if you ask me for a logical reason of why I would like to date them...There isn’t one, I suppose it’s more of an emotion than a logical reason. I simply want to spend more time with them, an impossibly, illogically long time. More than I’ve already spent with them.”

Kaeya is rendered speechless by the whole thing. The alchemist had managed to answer his question in a rather unconventional yet truthful and sincere way. It sounded just like Albedo and Kaeya couldn’t help but laugh. “Looks like today’s full of surprises,” then he stands up and starts to stack the papers on his desk without giving Albedo a reply.

Albedo senses the avoidance, but is brave enough to ask again. “I assume I have your blessing, then?” his eyes follow Kaeya’s form who shrugs easily with a smile “I don’t see why not. You’ve always been a man of your word.”

“...Thank you...Would you happen to know where I can find the master of Dawn Winery?” Albedo asks and Kaeya is once again dumbfounded by how serious Albedo actually was about you.

“Diluc? Oh don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine,” Kaeya waves a hand, and Albedo is immediately suspicious.

“...I...insist. If I personally told you, it’s only right that I personally tell him as well,” Albedo reasons but Kaeya again dismisses him.

“Tell you what, I’ll tell Diluc and you won’t have to worry your head over it,” Kaeya proposes and again Albedo hesitates. It’s not that he didn’t trust Kaeya...well, maybe he didn’t, not a 100% at least, but Kaeya immediately pulls the ‘brother’ card. “You trust me, I’m Y/N’s brother after all, right?” Kaeya felt the hesitation in Albedo, but enjoys the way the alchemist seems to battle with himself on whether to say yes or no.

“...I...suppose I can let you handle it,” Albedo relents, and Kaeya claps the smaller man’s back. “There you go!”

Kaeya never told Diluc. Did he forget? Possibly. Did he do it on purpose? Most likely.

Diluc had to learn the hard way, and Albedo had some explaining to do.

Who wants to date you: Venti

“Absolutely not,” Diluc doesn’t even look up from his task of drying glasses at the bar, watching as the white cloth wipes up the residue from the cup. He doesn’t even know if the bard is serious, but Diluc has the impression that “serious” wasn’t a word that Venti usually used.

“Aweeeeee come on, why not? I can take care of Y/N! You know that, right?” Venti, sitting on a bar stool situated in front of Diluc, starts whining. Diluc’s eye twitches, he’s aware what Venti really is, and is aware that Venti can absolutely protect you. “Take care” of you though? He had his doubts.

“Protecting them is completely different from taking care of them,” Diluc simply says to which Venti hums in thought, touching his braided hair absentmindedly as he replies.

“I can do both!” He cheerfully restates and rocks back and forth excitedly on his chair.

“Forget it,” Diluc says with finality, though he knew in the end he couldn’t really stop you from making your own decisions, at least he could convey to Venti that he wasn’t completely onboard about the whole thing.

“Why are you so against it? I’ve been nothing but a good patron to your establishment!” Venti yet again protests playfully. Diluc finally picks his gaze up to look at Venti with a half-serious glare.

“A good patron? By ordering dandelion wine every night, getting drunk and forgetting to pay for it? You really think that’s the kind of person I’d want for my sibling?”

Venti slinks backwards with a nervous laugh. “I just pass out before I can hand you the money that’s all. Next time I’ll pay before drinking, eh?”

Diluc’s glare doesn’t falter. “No,” yet his hands continue to wipe. “Pay for all the ones you’ve consumed before and maybe I’ll think about it,”

Venti gasps, hand coming over to his chest. “Are you...Are you selling your sibling?! Are you saying if I pay for all the dandelion wine I’ve consumed...I’ll have your blessing?”

“I said I’ll think about it, I didn’t say yes. Besides, paying for what you consumed is common human decency,”

“Oh, good thing I’m not human then,” Venti mumbles but Diluc hears it and is an inch close to throwing the bard out of the tavern, and also forbidding you from seeing him ever again, but Kaeya walks in.

“What’s all the commotion here?” he asks, chuckling at the face Diluc was making. He looked like a volcano that was about to erupt.

“Ah! Drinking buddy!” Venti was delighted to see the knight of Favonius, thinking that he had an ally now. Kaeya salutes at Venti and takes a seat next to him on the next barstool. Diluc immediately breaks the news to Kaeya.

“This bard wants to date Y/N,” Kaeya blinks, letting Diluc’s tone and livid expression finally settle in.

Kaeya chuckles and turns to Venti, “Really now?” as if an amused child who just discovered something wonderful in a museum. “And what makes you think we’ll agree to it?” Kaeya attacks immediately and Venti is wounded.

“What? I thought you were on my side! We’re drinking buddies!”

“Precisely why I’m not sure if Y/N’s a good match for you,” There’s something a little menacing about Kaeya’s smile. “Doesn’t paint a nice picture, thinking that you’re here every night while Y/N’s all alone, you see,”

“I’m NOT here every night!” despite Venti’s cheerful disposition even that comment gets to him. “Besides, once me and Y/N are official I’d rather spend that time with them,” the bard huffs, not noticing the glint in your brothers’ eyes.

“Well, let’s settle this with a drinking challenge then,” Kaeya suggests, motioning for Diluc to give them two glasses. “You’re only worthy if you can hold your alcohol better than me,”

“Deal,” Venti is overconfident when the challenge starts. Unfortunately for him Kaeya and Diluc had already done this before. Halfway through the challenge when Venti is a little tipsy, Diluc starts pouring grape juice instead of wine into Kaeya’s glass.

Venti doesn’t understand how Kaeya wins every time.

Who wants to date you (bonus character): Tartaglia

(I sincerely think this needs a whole fanfiction of its own. Tartaglia dating Diluc’s sibling is a complicated disaster waiting to happen but I still wrote a small snippet because I think it’s an interesting thought)

“Tell me where you met him again?” Diluc asks you, pulling his glove on his hand to start the day. It should have been a normal day like any other, with Diluc going on his usual patrol in the morning, but you had sidetracked him, told him that you wanted him to meet someone, and that you’ve invited Kaeya over to the mansion as well.

Diluc could tell that whoever this person was, you already had a certain liking towards them.

“At Liyue, brother,” you say, mentally making a note that this was probably the third time you’ve said it. You can tell Diluc is anxious, possibly because this was a total stranger to him. Someone who wasn’t from Mondstadt, someone who he was only hearing about now when you have apparently been seeing him for months now.

“Why did you only tell me now?” Diluc adds, dusting his coat off and finally turning to you, brows furrowed, arms crossed. You smile apologetically.

“Well, he’s a busy person, and I was trying to find the right time to tell you.” You explain and Diluc doesn’t budge from his position as he questions, “Busy, you say?” How was he going to look after you if he was “busy” as you said.

“Yeah, a bit like you, actually. Running around doing errands,” Diluc almost winces. Since he was also a busy person, he couldn’t really say anything bad about this other person being busy. That would be hypocritical.

“10 minutes, and I’m off to work,” Diluc grumbles, but sees the delight in your eyes and he’s always had a weakness for your happiness. There’s a slight commotion downstairs which the two of you can hear, since the door to his room is ajar.

“That must be him!” and again the joy that sweeps your face is immense, Diluc is almost angry that an unknown man was able to make you this happy. He sighs and follows after you down to the living area.

Sure enough, there’s a tall man, chestnut brown hair, charming smile on his face, holding flowers. Childe’s eyes light up as well, the moment he sees you jogging down the stairs and he somewhat hesitantly opens his arms to you. Diluc doesn’t know whether to grimace at the sight of you jumping into them and him spinning you around once with a laugh, or just ignore the whole thing altogether.

For a moment you and Childe are stuck in your own world. With him telling you that he missed you, it’s been a while, and passing you the sunflowers in his arm. You’re overjoyed by the sentiment and look up at him with awe, Diluc clears his throat at that moment.

“This is my brother, Diluc. This is Childe, brother,” You introduce them briefly and Childe is the one who stretches his hand out first, Diluc only follows.

Childe knows well who your brother is, it’s the exact reason why he took extra precautions today, like his delusion being concealed. Did he originally know that Diluc was your brother? Not at all. But when he found out, he was much too in love with you already. He’d make it work, right?

If you found out that he was part of the Fatui, it’d be a problem. But if your brother found out... that would be a completely different and bigger problem.

So, he kept his facade.

“...Where do you work?” Diluc suddenly asks. He doesn’t even ask how Childe is, if he’s tired from the long journey or how the two of you really met. He gets straight to the point, and something in his instincts is flaring up.

Childe gives a pleasant smile as he takes his hand back. “The Northland Bank in Liyue, Internal Affairs,” Childe stays by your side, comforted by your presence next to him. Truthfully he’d go through any hurdle just to have you, even if it meant tearing you away from family. Was that too much?

“...The Northland Bank?” Diluc questions, eyebrow raising. “A Snezhnayan bank...and you don’t look Liyuen at all,” Childe chuckles at Diluc’s observation and gives a simple explanation.

“I’m originally from Snezhnaya. Just in Liyue for business... All my siblings are back in Snezhnaya though, so I travel pretty frequently just to see them,” Playing the ‘I’m a family guy’ card was usually a nice place to start, though Childe wasn’t sure if that was able to fool Diluc, because the red head said nothing.

“...Enjoy your stay in Mondstadt, then,” Diluc simply says and stalks off towards the door. You’re not surprised at how curt your brother is, he’s usually like that with new people, but you assumed Kaeya might be a bit more welcoming. You whisper towards Childe to reassure him. “Don’t worry, he’ll warm up later on,” and he only smiles back at you.

Just before Diluc reaches the door it opens to reveal that Kaeya has arrived. As usual he’s got that grin full of mischief on his face, but his eyes dart towards you and Childe immediately. “Ah, this must be the gentleman I’ve been hearing about,” Kaeya starts.

“Sir Kaeya, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Childe, I’ve actually brought a bottle of wine from Snezhnaya--”

“Actually,” Diluc cuts through the conversation, then places a hand on Kaeya’s shoulder. “Kaeya’ll be coming with me for a minute, he’ll be back later,” and gives Kaeya a pointed look before taking his hand back and proceeding out the door. Kaeya doesn’t falter and doesn’t look surprised at all, it must have been something important, he knows that look on Diluc’s face. So, Kaeya shrugs and addresses you and Childe.

“It won’t be long, I’ll catch up with you later. Do leave the wine with the maids. In the meantime, the two of you should walk around town for a bit,” Kaeya waves, still the ever present charming smile on his face before turning and disappearing out the door as well.

Childe can’t help but let out a sigh, he doesn’t know out of stress or out of relief. You pat his back and give him a sympathetic look. “They’re just a little strange, but they’re good people, I promise,”

Childe chuckles under his breath and places a hand on your back, smiles down at you and presses a quick kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sure they are,” he reassures you more than he reassures himself. He’s 100% sure he’s dug himself a grave. Something about Diluc’s gaze on him tells him that the Darknight Hero knows.

It’s a little strange that Childe most certainly knows that your brothers are good people.

Though, he can’t quite say the same thing about himself.

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 11 months

Text

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲 || 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

― pairings: daryl dixon x plus size!reader

― era: season 4/pre-Governor

― summary: while out on a run, you find a cowboy hat, and what was once light-hearted teasing had actually woken up something inside of you, because he just looked too damn good.

― warnings: daryl in a cowboy hat (duh), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), cumming inside, oral (d. receiving), blowjobs, come eating, riding, biting (mentioned literally once), marking, established relationship, kissing, praise, dirty talk (mostly daryl's dirty mouth 'cause yes).

― wc: 1841

⋆ a/n: uhhh it's the way this almost turned into a 2k one shot of just straight up porn?? like i shit you not i one hundred percent think i lost my self-control while writing this, but oh well, i enjoyed it and i hope you guys do too! thank you all for the mass influx of support over the last few days, it never fails to blow my mind every time. i love you all!

masterlist | AO3

You swear your intentions were pure at first; it was just you trying to shoot the shit with Daryl and a cowboy hat, but you hadn't expected him to look so… natural with it on.

Walking around the shopping mall you, Glenn, Daryl, and Maggie were scouring through, you had come across a plain black cowboy hat lying on the floor alone. It appeared to be relatively spotless besides a little dirt and dust on it. You bent over and picked it up, your hand patting away the grime as you examined it. You couldn't help the shit eating grin that split on your face, your eyes flaring mischievously as you made your way back to your poor unsuspecting boyfriend who was searching through the camping department.

Sneaking up behind him, you quickly placed the hat on his head, eliciting a surprised grunt from the man in front of you.

"There," You said with your hands placed on your hips. "Now you're a real cowboy." He turned around to look at you with a glare. "Ain' no cowboy." He grumbled, and your breath caught at the sight of him. Every witty comeback you had been curating in your mind had suddenly died in your throat along with your ability to speak. "Wha'?" Daryl asked at your sudden silence. You swallowed nervously, "You look great, real sexy."

“Shuddup.” He scoffed, taking the hat off and placing it on your head so that it slightly obstructed your vision. He continued further into the department. “I’m serious!” You called out with a laugh as you chased after him.

“Wild west movies used to really get me going, you know!”

He didn’t see you shove the thing into your bag, or the fact that you were biting back a smirk the whole ride back to the prison.

You hadn’t forgotten about the way he looked in it, nor the fact that everytime you passed by your bag, the hat felt like it was going to burn a hole right through the floor. You were waiting for the perfect opportunity to bring up its potential use in the bedroom until one fell into your lap - more like his.

You were sitting on his lap as he had his back pressed against the prison wall, his lower half resting on the two mattresses the both of you had pushed together to make a makeshift double bed. His fingers dug into the skin of your hips, your hands tightly clasping his cheeks, holding his lips onto yours as you made out fervently. Your body was slightly raised above his when you remembered the cowboy hat. You pushed a finger in between your mouths as you separated with a smirk.

“Wait.” You breathed. “You okay?” He asked in concern, searching your face and eyes for any sight of discomfort. “I got something I wanna try, if that’s fine with you.” You nodded gently. “Wha’ is it?” Your smirk formed into a wide smile at his question.

He watched you with a mix of curiosity and anticipation as you leaned over and unzipped your backpack, his palms that rested on your hips continued to keep a firm grip on you as reached for what you were looking for. His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when they caught sight of the brim of that stupid cowboy hat.

“The hell?” He couldn’t help but say. It wasn’t full of disgust, but rather surprise. You laughed, “I may or may not have brought it back home with the intention of asking you to wear it while we have sex.” The sides of his lips quirk as he takes the hat from your hands. “I guess ya really were serious about wild wes’ movies gettin’ ya goin’.” But nonetheless, he puts it on, and you bite your lip.

“Like I said, you’re the sexiest cowboy I’ve ever seen.”

He tilts his head up as your lips lock in an amorous embrace, and you grind your hips down on his hard-on. He groans against your lips, gripping and pressing your body down to receive maximum pressure from your cloth covered cunt. Your kisses trailed down his neck, nibbling on his scruff and unbuttoning his sleeveless shirt to push off of his shoulders, which he helped you do. Your greedy hands trailed through the patch of hair on his chest, following the hair down to where it disappeared into his jeans. You unbutton them, moving your butt down a little bit so that you could take him out of his underwear.

He hissed in pleasure as you pressed down on his leaky tip, rubbing his precum around before you bent forward, adjusting your body so that your ass was raised and arched, licking a stripe from the vein on the underside of his cock to the tip, twirling your tongue around it.

“Shit!” He let out a raspy whimper, burying his thick fingers gently gripping onto the roots of your hair. The pressure on your scalp was welcomed as you took him further down your throat, swallowing around him and fondling his balls with your free hand. Daryl desperately tried to keep himself quiet, seeing as though the walls of the prison weren’t thick, and anyone could hear him, and that was something that he didn’t think he would be able to live down.

He could feel himself nearing his climax with every suck of your devilish mouth, and he knew that you could feel him too. You peered up at him through your eyelashes, watching his shirtless chest rise and fall heavily, he looked dark as he practically gazed into your soul, the cowboy hat adding a shadow over his features that turned you on beyond comprehension. You pressed your thighs together to desperately relieve the growing tension between your legs, and when the fat of them put pressure against your clit, you whined, the noise shooting up your boyfriend’s spine.

“Fuck, sweetheart. ‘M gunna cum.” He warned, his back arching and hips chasing your warm mouth. You only pulled off to say, “Down my throat.” Your words were heavy and breathy, but you didn’t care, taking him back into your throat and stroking what you couldn’t swallow. He gulped, allowing his head to lean back on the concrete cell wall, biting on his bottom lip so hard in an attempt to stay silent that he could’ve sworn he tasted the metallic tang of blood.

“Yeah?” He asked with a breathless groan. “‘Wan’ me to paint that pretty little mouth of yours white?” You whined at his dirty words, and he felt your noises burn through his veins like fire. He didn’t hold back from occasionally bucking his hips, his thrusts growing sloppy before he pressed your head down, shooting his load deep down your esophagus.

You swallowed his cum, which caused him to hiss due to oversensitivity. You pulled off of him, licking your lips before sticking your tongue out to show him that you hadn’t wasted a drop.

“God damn, girl.” He grunted as you crawled your way up to his lips to place a deep kiss on his lips, allowing him to taste himself. “Are ya tryin’ta kill me?” He asked when you pulled away. You giggled, dragging playful fingers up and down his chest. “Maybe?” You said, biting your bottom lip with a smile.

He just scoffed, kissing you once more as you avoided knocking your head against the rim of his hat. “Let me ride you, cowboy.” You heaved.

He nodded, allowing you to stand and take your clothes off as he rid himself of his pants and underwear.

You clambered back on top of him, allowing your soaked slit to gently caress his hard cock.

“Fuck.” He cursed, the grip on your hips turning bruising due to your teasing. You mewled at the feeling of his heated skin brushing your sensitive clit, your self control slipping as you reached down and lined his cock up to your entrance, slowly sinking down due to the lack of foreplay and prep. The initial stretch of his tip hurt, your nails digging into the skin of his tanned shoulders, a silent cry leaving your lips as your head fell back.

Daryl gave you a moment to adjust to his size, distracting you with his calloused thumb, which rubbed comforting circles onto your tiny bundle of nerves. Your muscles loosened as you moved, slightly bouncing until you found a rhythm where your ass met his thighs. He aided you in your riding, guiding your body up and down.

“So fuckin’ wet.” He grunted, rolling both of his lips between his lips as he watched where your bodies joined together, as though he was in a trance. “‘S all for you, D.” You slurred. His cock repeatedly brushed against that sensitive spot inside of your body. He was already sensitive, which made him all the more determined to help you reach your peak first.

“Put yer hands on the wall.” He rasped. You placed your arms on either side of his head, your breasts pretty much shoved in his face when his hips rose up, fucking themselves into you harshly. You yelped in surprise, pressing your palms harder against the walls as he pounded into you from below. He raised his head, his eyes searching for yours from under the hat.

His irises swam with lust and need, but also a hidden determination that only he knew about.

“‘Gunna make you cum real good, pretty girl.” He huffed a ragged breath. “Promise.”

“Please, Dar. I need it!” You cried.

He looked away from you, focusing on his thrusts which were unforgiving, bruising your cervix with every slam of his tip. Your arms grew shaky as you neared your end, almost causing you to fall forward if you hadn’t laid your head on the cool rock.

“So close,” You breathed, “‘M so close, baby, please.” You begged. “I gotcha. ‘Gunna cum with ya, sweet cheeks.” Your body flushed with relief at his words.

Your bodies worked together to help reach your climaxes, and when you did, you held back a loud moan, and Daryl hid his in between the valley of your breasts, which lightly bit into. There might be a mark there tomorrow, but who cares?

You shuddered through your world shattering orgasm and he worked you through it, lazily thrusting into you until you muttered the words, ‘no more.’

You slowly sat back down, wincing seeing as though his softening cock was still shallowly buried inside of you.

“Holy fucking shit.” You laughed deliriously. “If I knew ya would’a been all pent up like this over some hat I would’a worn it sooner. Maybe even take ya righ’ then and there in tha’ mall.”

You smirk in amusement at his daring words, “Is that so?” You asked with a mischievous smile. “Mhm.” He hummed with a grin, his hands descending to gently massage your outer thighs whilst you cupped his cheeks, both of you falling into a blissful, giggly kiss.

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