#are you feelin lucky

[ellie--eille]

When all the notifications look like pornbots

[classicsonic]

fnv is so funny. benny wants me so bad

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ LUCKY — GOJO SATORU.

contents. baths + non sexual nudity, established relationships, tired toru :(, lots of kissies and praise for the babie :(, solid proof in the form of writing of how embarrassingly lovesick i am for this FOOL

it’s past midnight when satoru walks into your bathroom. he doesn’t even question why you’re in the bath so late—just gives you a lopsided grin tiredly as you smile.

“you’re home,” you brighten.

“look at you,” he coos, staring down at you with amused eyes, “waitin’ for me?”

satoru is tired—you can tell from the way the his shoulders are slouched and his blindfold is clutched in his hand. “i was,” you hum in agreement, “c’mere.”

it’s all it takes. he’s stripped down and waiting for you to move up so he can slide behind you in seconds, hand waving to motion you forward. but you’re stubborn—you shake your head as you hold an arm out for him.

“baby,” he whines, “c’mon i was out fighting big bad curses all day. jus’ lemme hold—”

“no. just come here, toru,” you insist.

there’s something about it—something about the way your voice is so gentle, so insistent, so knowing. it’s like you can read him more than he can, sometimes. satoru is tired, you can see it, you can feel it. you can’t carry his burdens, but you can hold him while he holds the weight of the world for a night.

maybe it’ll do for now—maybe it’ll even be enough and more.

“what? feelin’ like pampering me today?” he teases, “aren’t i a lucky guy,” he hums—but he climbs into the tub anyway, settling between your legs, leaning his back against your chest as his head falls back against your shoulder.

instantly, two gentle kisses plant themselves against his head, and his eyes flutter shut. he’s starting to feel the beginnings of a headache form—the gentle thump in his skull just barely there, but persistently present.

your thumbs rubs along the sides of his head, enough pressure to soothe the pain like you know it’s coming—he thinks you must.

“you are a lucky guy,” you giggle, “look at me. such a catch.”

he grins, chuckling that boyish chuckle of his freely in your arms as he relaxes. it’s been a while since he’s relaxed, you think—it’s half past midnight and he’ll be up with the sun in a bit to head back to the school, but it’s nice to know he’s relaxed. even just for this short, rare moment.

“oh yeah,” he nods, lips curled into a grin as he cracks an eye open and peers up at you, “s no catch like my pretty ‘lil baby. i’m living it up.”

“glad you know your privileges,” you murmur contently, shaking your head in amusement as you wrap your arms around his body. one hand rubs over his abs—he wants to tease you about feeling him up, wants to make a sly comment about missing his body more than him while he was gone. but there’s something about it, about the way it’s so slow and soothing and soft—it’s so painfully soft, satoru swallows.

finally, he lets his body go slack against yours, sliding down so his head rests against your chest and the water soaks more of his body. it’s warm. the water and your arms. it’s all so, so warm and forgiving.

“aren’t you gonna tell me how lucky you are too? i’ll listen, don’t worry. no interruptions.”

“yeah?” you chuckle, threading fingers through his hair and pulling a soft sigh from him, “wanna know how lucky i am?”

“course,” he murmurs, “well, i already know you’re lucky. it’s me after all—but i’m not opposed to hearing it.”

“how humble of you, satoru,” you snort.

he grins wider—he hasn’t had a chance to smile all day. not properly, at least.

“feel free to start any second,” he says with a wink. then his eyes flutter shut again as your thumb traces his cheek, ever so gently running along the soft angles of his face.

it’s pretty—everything about him is pretty. there are no ugly parts to satoru. just the parts painted from cruel hands. they’re beautiful too, you like to think, in their own, fragile little ways.

“okay,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his head, “i’m very lucky,” you murmur into his hair.

he hums, mumbling a quiet, “knew it.”

“lucky i have such a handsome face to greet,” you pepper kisses along his forehead and find his cheek, giving it an affectionate little bite that makes him huff out an amused chuckle. “and he’s so tall too,” you add, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“that all he is?” he pouts, “just a pretty face? you’re breaking my heart, baby.”

“no,” you say quietly, grabbing his hand and brushing a thumb over his knuckles, “he’s also kind. too kind, sometimes,” you say quietly, “he comes home a bit later than usual every once in a while because he took his students out to eat. he loves them a bit too much, i think.”

“no such thing as too much love,” he hums, squeezing your hand.

you smile, admiring him as he lays against you, small in your hold even with the larger than life weight he carries.

“and he’s strong,” you add, “really strong. it’s not fair sometimes,” you whisper, “he’s got so much on his plate.”

“he handles it fine,” he assures, “he always does.”

“and then he still makes time for little old me,” you say fondly, kissing his shoulder, “never lets me feel lonely. he’s too good to me.”

“there’s no such thing as too good for you,” he gasps offendedly, pouting like you’ve insulted him, “he’s definitely not—”

“and sometimes, he comes home tired. and he tries to act like he’s not because he’s a bit of a prick who doesn’t let me help, but i’m smart and i know him well so i’ve figured it out. and if i’m extra lucky, i might get to hold him for a bit like this and help him relax.”

you squeeze him gently for emphasis, holding him closer as you press your nose into his neck and breathe in his smell. it’s like cologne that’s rudely expensive and that sweet smell only satoru has—it’s all you want to breathe in for the rest of your days.

you hope he’ll allow you that much. something tells you he will.

satoru swallows thickly at that, rubs a thumb over your bare thigh as he rests his free hand over it, the other still in your grasp.

and then, quietly, “maybe he’s fine just coming home to you,” he shrugs, “who can stay tired with such a sweet face waiting at home?”

“i don’t know,” you say thoughtfully, “he’s got a lot to take care of. wonder how he does it.”

“he’s probably the strongest,” he shoots with an easy grin, “sounds like the strongest to me.”

“he is,” you nod, “he’s a lot more than that too. i’m lucky he’s mine.”

“oh yeah?” he drawls—there’s something a little shaky about his voice though.

you choose not to mention it, pressing soft, delicate kisses along his jaw as you murmur, “yeah. he makes me feel really, really lucky. love him so much.”

“love you too,” satoru breathes, “guess we’re both really, really lucky.”

don’t talk to me i don’t want to be perceived. that’s enough softness for a lifetime so the next time i write him he’s getting hit by a bus

[blueysobssesions]

Part 2 of hsr men voice lines about you please

Note: sorry for not updating the hsr voice lines part 2- My house is flooded- wahhhh

HSR MEN VOICEL LINES ABOUT YOU (2)

Characters: Aventurine, Dr. Ratio, Jing Yuan, Boothill

Aventurine (ooc?)

— Y/N? They mean a lot to me, of course. As much as I don't show it, I... Ahem care for them deeply. Do you take her to your gambling sessions?? — Y/N isn't particularly fond of gambling, so I don't often take them along. However, they sometimes join me when there's a special occasion or if they're really curious. She's my lucky charm ~

-

— There was this one time when Y/N and I went out for dinner, and they accidentally spilled their drink all over her dress. It was a mess, but we both couldn't stop laughing about it. Her dress was worth 90 thousand credits, of course I had to buy her another one ~ ! Which was worth 100 thousand. —- she's so... *sigh*

Boothill

— Well, she ain't just any 'lucky girl', she's a star herself. Pretty, smart, and she brings out the best in me. — She's the kinda person who makes the galaxy seem a little bit brighter, y'know? She challenges me in all the right ways and keeps things interestin'. — I would sometimes see her wear my hat chuckles now, that's cute ain't it? How do you show your love to your lover? — I reckon it's all about them little things, you know? Like bringing 'em their favorite tea when they ain't feelin' the best or takin' 'em on a stroll through the stars on a clear night. Love: To Y/n Ah, darlin', you look just as lovely as a starry night under a clear sky. Love: To Y/n (2) Ain't no words that can capture the way you take my breath away, but I reckon I'll spend a lifetime tryin'.

Dr. Ratio

— That- gambler, told you didn't he? sigh — One thing about her that stands out is her patience and understanding. It's... a quality I value greatly Soft Spot — I... care for her, if that's what you're implying. It's not as sensational as you're making it out to be. Who fell first? Y/n: He did ~ ! — And is this information necessary to share? How do you show your love to Y/n? — I show my affection in my own way. It's not... overt displays of gestures, but in the little things. — I... make sure she's not overworked. Take care of her needs discreetly. It's about being there, without needing to make a show of it.

Jing Yuan

— We met when I was in the middle of a meeting, in the Seat of Divine Foresight. She’s a new resident in the Luofu, that day was probably her first day here and she mistook the entrance of the Seat of Divine Foresight for a café’s. What does he love about y/n? —Oh, many things. She’s hardworking, kind-hearted, understanding… silence well, she’s also quite pretty — She always get's flustered when I compliment her… especially if tell her that I love her.. Who fell first?? — Y/N fell in love first, while I began to fall later on… chuckles — There are many moments I cherish. Whether it's a simple walk under the night sky in the gardens of the Seat of Divine Foresight, or moments where we share a quiet moment over a cup of tea...and sleeping sessions…

[reverie-starlight]

“ugh, my head hurts,” you whine. you walk into the living room and settle beside atsumu on the couch. as soon as you rest your head on his shoulder and bend knees over his thighs, he’s wrapping an arm around you.

“rough night?” he jokes. he knows perfectly well that you were with him fighting over mario kart and clue last night, and that you’re definitely not suffering a hangover right now, despite what your current state may suggest.

“ha ha,” you reply but it’s quickly followed up with a groan. you press your fingers to your temples and hide your face in his neck.

despite his earlier teasing, he brings a hand up to gently massage the back of your head. you can almost feel the concerned frown forming on his face, and just as he opens his mouth, you answer his question before it has the chance to form. “I’m okay, baby. I guess I didn’t get enough sleep after we waged war on each other.”

you think back to last night’s events. you had both pulled your best tricks within the game and things got pretty intense during your third go at moo moo meadows (atsumu's favourite track- one of the only one he claims you're evenly matched in because you're at the mercy of the cows). of course you beat him, hitting him with a strategically thrown green shell just before he crossed the finish line, breaking the tie 2-1 in your favour. he was quick to select wild woods as the next course, but you beat him in that one as well and had to switch over to animal crossing after that to cool off.

he sighs in relief and presses some kisses to your forehead. “need me to get ya anything?”

you wrap your arms around his neck, face still hidden against him, and shake your head as minimally as possible. “just cuddle me, please?”

he smiles and squeezes you tighter against him. “easiest thing you’ve ever asked me to do,”

you peek up at him. "how about you? you feeling okay?"

he looks confused for a moment. "hm? what do-"

"is your ego still bruised from that green shell?" you interrupt with a small smile against his skin.

he narrows his eyes playfully. "careful," he warns, hands slithering down to your sides and stalling there menacingly. "you're not really in a position to be a brat right now."

you giggle and guide his hands away from your waist. "no, I'm sorry, I'll stop. I won't even make the joke I was saving about being at the mercy of a cow again so soon," you plead with him.

he hums a bit. "you're so lucky you're not feelin' well right now. but just wait, I'll get ya back for that comment, baby. won't even see it coming."

you sigh contently as he maneuvers you against him more comfortably and plays with your hair. "sure, 'tsum. I'm so scared," your voice has a dreamy lilt to it, so he lets it slide and continues caressing you.

truly the easiest thing you've ever asked him to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

this isn't the atsumu fic I was talking abt btw, that's still coming on monday. it's just a draft I polished up a bit bc I didn't know where to go with it. it probably wasn't going to turn into anything tbh... I'm just posting it today to try to stop myself from posting the other fic before then lol

[hxnbi]

⸻ ❀°。wind breaker boys if you had braces

requested by anonymous: "I recently got my braces in and although I do not regret saving up the money to get it done. It really hurts lately. And I am very much bummed out that it hurts so much. I was wondering if you could write something related to it?"

pairings requested: suo, sakura, umemiya, togame, and choji x gn. reader

note: as someone who had braces before a few years back, ik that it can freaking SUCK so i hope it gets better for you <3

❀°。SAKURA HARUKA

At first, he really didn’t know what to do when you came back from your dentist appointment, only to look like you could audition for a role in a zombie movie. Sakura can hardly manage taking proper care of himself, so what would he know about taking care of other people? Does he even deserve to take care of you...? But he shakes off those thoughts, because, on the other side of the room, you were suffering, practically melting into the couch while your head was unseen from the large pillow on your face, squishing your face in hopes of dulling the pain. Which didn’t help much.

“Hey, uh, ahem… you need anything?” he asks awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

You murmur something short and nearly incoherent, and Sakura, determined to be helpful, tries to scour the kitchen for anything that might ease your pain. You wonder what he was doing, but you can find it in yourself to open your mouth, in pain, to say anything. He eventually brings you a cold compress and some soft, mashed potatoes, hoping it might help. Long story short, they don’t taste very good. He’s a little confused, but he's got the spirit. 

❀°。SUO HAYATO

The second Suo peers over at you and sees you lying on the couch, you are hardly recognizable—well, not literally, but you clearly do not look like yourself, and that worries him deeply. It hurts to see you like this, and his heart sinks seeing you in such discomfort.

“Y/n, you have to eat,” he says gently, holding a bowl of soft soup that he painstakingly prepared just for you.

“I know…” you mumble, shifting slightly while attempting to cover yourself and your metallic mouth with a blanket.

He sits beside you, patiently spooning small portions, coaxing you with the spoon moving closer to your mouth.

Suo tries his best, while not forcing you, to eat. After all, if you didn’t have food in your system, you would feel even worse, and he didn’t want that. He, above all, wished for your happiness.

❀°。UMEMIYA HAJIME

Umemiya attends to every need in the world. Husband material through and through, he becomes your personal nurse. He prepares all the homemade cold smoothies and soups in the world to smooth your pain, makes sure you take your pain medication on time, and even neglects his Furin duties just to spend it all with you to keep your mind off the ever-present pain from the metals in your mouth.

“You feelin' okay? Need anything else?” he asks, brushing a strand of hair from your face and clasping your hand in his.

You can't help but smile weakly. You feel incredibly lucky to have someone like Umemiya. He makes sure your comfort is his top priority above all, attending to every small detail with the utmost care and affection. To him, nothing is more important than your happiness, and he’s more than willing to make it happen.

❀°。TOGAME JO

Granted, Togame doesn’t push you to talk much, always trying to be considerate about his own feelings. You don’t need to talk; he’ll be at your side at all times, making sure that you are properly cared for, and constantly attentive as your boyfriend. Togame tries to take your mind off the pain by doing little things that make you happy, like playing your favourite music or perhaps watching your favourite show on TV. Without a word, he sits next to you, gently holding your hand and caressing the insides of your palm.

Whenever you grimace from the pain, he squeezes your hand reassuringly and whispers softly that he’ll stay with you through it all.

❀°。TOMIYAMA CHOJI

“Huh, it hurts? Where?” Choji asks, looking genuinely puzzled with both his feet crossed in a rather childlike fashion.

You point to your mouth, muttering a few words, and he finally understands. Oh right! You did mention that you would be getting braces on today. His face immediately sinks, seeing your discomfort. Oh, you must be in pain...

And so, with that plaguing his mind the entire rest of the day, seeing you in pain with your braces, Choji decides to make food for you in hopes that it’ll make you feel better. After all, food solves everything! But when he finishes his so-called dish, a “nuclear disaster,” as Togame deadpanned, you can’t help but laugh.

“Okay, maybe cooking isn’t my thing,” Choji admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “B-But it tastes better than it looks! I tried it!”

Despite his culinary skills—or lack thereof—his attempt to cheer you up works wonders in making you smile for the first time that day. And in the end, while coming home, he brings out something that is more fitting for you to consume—a pack of store-bought pudding instead from across the street, sitting beside you and sharing it. 

©hxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated ♡

[thementalshawty]

PAC Your FS’s Vibe

So hello again the ghost is reappearing sorry to my babies, work is heavy and wearing me out I work at FedEx y’all. Package handling heavy ass boxes everyday for the week! I’ve been worn out, but that don’t mean ion love you guys and I feel like shit for not being more consistent. So I’m back with a quick PAC reading so you can get a quick little vibe of your FS just something to tickle your fancy. If you’d like more material and details even readings every month join my patreon which shall be featured on the bottom of this reading! REMEMBER! This is a GENERAL reading so take everything lightly and let the rest flow to another thank you. Let’s begin shall we.

VIBE 1:

VIBE 2:

VIBE 3:

VIBE 4:

VIBE 1:

You Got The DEATH card. So your FS regardlesss of gender is intense! They’re Scorpionic! They may be a Scorpio or have Scorpio in their natal chart. They’ve been through a lot of transitions and changes, some of them could’ve been surrounded by a lot of death actual people dying around them, so I’m hearing they may not get close to people they feel everyone they love dies type shit. This person is hella strong and mysterious, they have a lot of admires I’m hearing the word smolder so maybe they do that with their eyes. Something about their eyes stand out 👀 They know how to make people swoon. They will have you always giggling and rolling their eyes, you’ll always be trying to figure them out. Everyday is new and exciting with them you just feel so eager to learn about them, they’re enticing I’m hearing. They look good and they give me vampire vibes some lestat, and others Louis from interview with a vampire show on AMC and not money or anything just their swagger and vibe. Some even looks. They’re very serious to they take no shit and they’re not the ones to mess with! They’ve been through some shit I’m feeling. Also looks good in hoodies or wears a lot of them. A boogie with the hoodie vibes too for some reason. By

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Vibe 2:

HOLY FUCC You Guy Got The SUN ☀️! Your FS is very Sunny, upbeat, positive and full of energy! They like to see the brighter side to everything! Half glass full type of energy! The sun is very masculine energy so they can be masculine irregardless of gender. They are so happy and they just want everyone around them to be happy too, very innocent vibes too I’m getting youthful so they can be younger than you are or just makes you feel young too, I also get they look younger than they are. They have come full circle in their lives, I feel they have struggled, begged and pleaded in their life and now they’re finally doing things their way and they couldn’t be happier with it. They’re very self aware I feel! They know about their good shit and bullshit and if they’re not working on it or haven’t it’s cos they’re at peace with it and who they are and I feel they are so motivational and supportive to those around them! The cheerleader of their group. They want to see everyone win! I think they are Leo dominant or have Leo in their chart. Loud and proud very prideful so that can be an issue! They treat themselves like royalty, they may live in a warm place, they may like to lay out in the sun. They may have blonde hair some of them, longer too esp if it’s a feminine. This person is just awesome their vibe is so lit I love them already they just want to smile and have a good time! They have gotten lucky so many times in their life I feel they’re very a happy go lucky kinda person, they’re a joy to be around! Warm, loving, accepting, embracing I’m hearing they’re like a hug!

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Vibe 3: You Got The Star ⭐️! So I’m seeing your FS has got very healing energy and vibes going on, they’re very inspirational and people go to them for advice and hope. This person always tries to help others and uplift them. Motivational speaker right here! I’m feelin like for some not all! Your FS is a celebrity, they could have star power if anything, locally known. Your FS is the type to wish upon a shooting star! They’re incredibly sweet and loving the type to adopt animals and kids even! They believe in the betterment of the world and the planet, man in the mirror by Michael Jackson is what I’m hearing they are basically too good for this fucking world! They are such an angel on this earth people feel lucky just to be in their presence! They are humanitarians! They philosophical too, brown hair for some, they can be an Aquarius or have Aquarius in their chart. They keep their heart open to faith. Not religious well some are but they do hold strong faith everything works out for the best.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Vibe 4: Aww You Got The Knight of Cups. Your FS is so sweet, they’re loving, passionate and creative asfcc! They’re an artist, they can be a water sign. Cancer & Pisces most likely! They are so beautiful too I feel they look really cute! They have can have tattoos. They hella romantic they want love! This person has style too hella swag 😆. They are the type to write love letters and songs for you, to create a beautiful picnic and surprise you for a date. They are the pursuer. Big dreams! They follow their heart, sometimes they don’t connect their mind and they need too, they’re hella emotional but it’s balanced and controlled. They are the type to woo you, sweep you off your feet! They will court you! This person has a big heart. Your white knight! They are the type to go save their homie at 6am in the morning and they’re still in sleep mode. They don’t care they are down and I feel since it’s cups they just flow too, they aren’t really against pushing against the current, they can probably play guitar some of them. They’re an Angel and they love hard!

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

Well

That’s all you guys I hope you liked it and it resonated I promise imma try to be better also if you’d like to join my patreon we have unlimited openings lol the link is here!

THANK YOU GUYS LOVE YA!!

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse iv); s.g.

synopsis: you and gojo go on your first double date... or is it really? content: canon divergence (teen!gojo era), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, best bros satoru and suguru bickering as always, gojo may have had a 'help I've fallen on your boobs and I can't get up' moment, bestie shoko, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: another addition to my gojo anthology series! this one was sm fun to write, I love writing gojo and geto being nothing but idiots tbh... wanna be tagged? lmk in the replies!

"A dinner? A fancy dinner?" Shoko asked as you nodded. "What's a bunch of sixteen year olds gonna do at a fancy dinner?" She raised a brow in confusion. Ever since being paired by Yaga with Shoko, the two of you have grown quite close. You were more than thankful, as much as you loved your own little trio (including Nanami and Haibara), it was nice to have a friend that wasn't... well, a male. 

Not that there was something wrong with that, you saw Nanami like a sort of twin—though you were a bit more on the social side—he got along with you the most. Then there was Haibara, who was an absolute sweetheart and a gem, the energy both you and your blond twin needed. However, seeing as Ieiri was your senior, there was quite a lot to learn from her—outside from the jujutsu world. 

There was also Geto and Gojo... Geto was an interesting person to be around. He had dark humor but also was nothing but kind to you. Gojo, on the other hand...

"A double date?!" Satoru exclaimed as he was alone with Suguru after you invited the two young men to the dinner you told Shoko about. 

Arching an eyebrow, Suguru crossed his arms. "Who said this is a double date? In your delusional world, you're dating our little junior when she only sees you as a friend—"

"That's a lie!" Gojo snapped, earning a snicker from his best friend. "I'll have you know we get along very well, we hangout a lot! And— and we have a lot of fun conversations!"

"Sounds fun," Geto said sarcastically. "We all know you're madly in love with her. However, we have no idea how she feels about you."

"Then explain the double date, huh?" Gojo was now the one to cross his arms, tapping his foot. "You and Shoko, me and my mochi?"

Sighing, Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose. "Again, not a double date. It's four friends going to a nice restaurant to support one of our friend's family members. Nothing more, nothing less," he explained, only for everything to go into one ear and out the other for the white haired boy before him. 

Satoru was in his own world, delusional as always, eyes sparkling at the thought of you in a cute dress. Heels or no heels, makeup or not, he just couldn't help but fantasize about how beautiful you were going to look tonight!

"Earth to Satoru?" Geto waved his hand in front of his best friend, only to laugh. "Thinking about how cute she'll look tonight, huh?"

"Yeah..." Gojo nodded, a face of pure ecstasy, as if he were about to drool. 

"Maybe I'll swap dates, you can have Shoko, I'll have our beautiful—"

"No!" Satoru shouted, instantly jumping Suguru. "She's my date for the night!"

"Good luck with that, if you look like an idiot right now thinking about her, just imagine you tonight!" Suguru laughed as he shoved Satoru off of him. "You're gonna look like a complete idiot!"

"You're not discreet..." Geto mumbled towards Gojo as the young man sat beside you, cheek pressed in the palm of his hand as he ever so casually gazed at you. You were in the middle of a conversation with Shoko, something about a movie you both recently had seen together. Too lost in your discussion, laughing and enjoying the evening as Suguru watched his best friend look like he was in a trance. "You are literally staring..." Furrowing his eyebrows as a look of slight disgust took over his face, Suguru kicked Satoru. 

"Shh," Gojo brushed off, kicking him back. 

"You're lucky she's in her own world with Shoko to even hear us," Geto kicked again, feeling his best friend constantly kick back. Gojo was too focused on you to even pay him any mind.

The restaurant, although fancy, was quite lively and practically filled to the brim. The reservations were endless and everyone that came and went looked like they came from money. Satoru and Suguru wore similar suits, solely because they bought them last minute and ended up with the same look (Satoru was NOT happy, but Suguru found it very funny). Shoko, after seeing them, called them tweedledee and tweedledum... You, on the other, found it cute. 

Cute... Gojo kept hearing your words echo in his head. You thought he, himself, was cute?! Forget Suguru, you said he was cute! He couldn't help but indulge in it as he gazed at you practically the whole dinner. For a split second, he did acknowledge the fact that you looked beyond gorgeous. In a white, fitted dress, hugging your curves with a sweetheart neckline... It was safe to say his mind was split in two. In particular, the two brain cells he had. Half of his mind was floating in the clouds of your compliment while the other half was focused on the top of your breasts (practically where his eyes kept falling to). He was... somewhat of a gentleman, he just couldn't help that dirty side of him. You were beautiful! He wanted you!

In his defense, he was used to seeing you in your uniform jacket, skirt, and tights... the times you weren't, you were always dressed cute and comfortable. Never had he seen you like this, curves and all. 

Reaching over the table and yanking on Gojo's hair, Geto stifled a laugh as his best friend snapped his head and growled. "Rude, I was busy!" He hissed, reaching over and tugging on the bangs that hung over the dark haired young man's forehead. 

Caught up with your conversation with Shoko (and not entirely hearing the commotion beside you with all the various voices around you in the restaurant) a sudden gasp left the brunette as she watched it all happen before her in slow motion. Gojo and Geto shoved one another, completely forgetting where they were as others nearby watched in confusion. 

From one second to the next, you were knocked off your chair, head thudding with the ground as a body collapsed against you. Various gasps and whispers were heard as you winced. Blinking a few times and trying to sit up, you felt a pressure against your chest. Both Shoko and Suguru (who was pulled to his feet by Shoko), stared at the disaster before them. Satoru, with his face planted against your chest, as you stared at him, wide eyed. 

"Satoru!" Shoko exclaimed, smacking his head as he lifted it, staring at you with a shared blush, before both of his friends yanked him up. 

"I— I am so sorry!" He exclaimed, reaching for your hand to help you up as you looked stunned. 

"God, you two are so immature. Before we get kicked out, take her home and I'll handle this," Shoko tsked as you blinked, only to snap out of your daze. 

"It's— It's okay! I'll handle this! I invited you all—"

"No, you hit your head hard, let me handle this. Dummie over here will take you," Shoko kicked Satoru's calf. "Go. Now."

Without second thinking his actions, Gojo took your hand and lead you out. Both of you ignored the displeased stares and gossip that spread over the four kids who "shouldn't have been allowed into a restaurant like this in the first place." 

Walking out, Satoru stopped in his tracks before turning to face you. "I'm so sorry about... my face being in your... Anyway, are you okay?" He asked, using his free hand to gently touch the back of your head. "There's no bump, but, are you alright?"

"I— It's okay, I'm not hurt," you swore as you nodded your head, looking up at him with your doe eyes. Gojo swore his heart grew two times its size. "I promise," you softly smiled. 

Nodding, a small smile grew on the young man's lips. He couldn't help but gaze at you, softness in his eyes as he kept his hand on the back of your head. Silence weaved its way between the two of you. Nothing uncomfortable. You stood there for what felt like hours, looking at one another and nearly forgetting what you were doing or where you were. 

The sound of honking snapped the two of you out of it as you realized you were out in the open, with people walking by and cars driving along. 

Clearing his throat, Satoru lowered his hand from your head and kept his other in yours. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

tag list: @bakananya @strangehuman101 @thirtykiwis @sillygoosegoose (some of u I sadly couldn't tag!)

[communicationthroughlyrics]

I Can't Hide The Way I'm Feelin' Pt. 1

You have a propensity for tardiness, and your new interim professor will have none of it.

Reader is Intersex- Smut to 'cum'

A/N: Thanks to @gswha for this request- it's kinda grown a bit so it'll be a two-part affair! We're basing this Nat interaction off of Natalie Rushman, since she was pretty 'professorly' XD

Word Count: 6.4k

"Shit," you mumble to yourself, hopping around your dorm room, trying to get yourself dressed as quickly as you could. Your leg got stuck in the material of your jeans, causing you to fall to the ground with a loud thud as you stared up at the ceiling. "Fuck." You had overslept. Again. But this time, you were late for your Slavic Studies class, and you knew you had a fill-in teacher today. They would be a long-term substitute, something about your primary teacher having a family emergency back in Europe. With luck, you would get a substitute that didn't care- but you knew you weren't that lucky.

As you rushed out of your building, the cold wind slapped you in the face, reminding you that you had forgotten your jacket. You quicken your pace, the chill of autumn making you shiver as you make your way to the lecture hall. The door was open a crack, and you could hear the muffled sounds of the class already in session. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable scolding that awaited you.

You pushed open the door, trying not to make it creak as you attempted to sneak into class. Your eyes darted around, finding your best friend, Steve, already in class. He normally looked disinterested, as this was his least favorite class in his schedule this semester, but he seemed to have a newfound excitement surrounding the class. You wondered what had changed, but that question was soon answered when your eyes landed on the figure at the front of the room.

Before the class was a toned figure, her curves accentuated by the black dress she was wearing. Her burnished copper hair was done in waves, cascading down her back, and moving like there was a gentle breeze through the lecture hall. Her eyes, a piercing shade of green, snapped to you as the door creaked shut. She was the new teacher, Dr. Natasha Romanoff. You had heard whispers about her, rumors of her sharp wit and strict demeanor, but you weren't prepared for the reality of her presence.

The room fell silent, all eyes on you as you stumbled over your own feet trying to get to your seat. Dr. Romanoff's gaze didn't waver, and you felt the weight of her stare like a hand pressing into your chest. She tapped her foot impatiently, the sound echoing through the room like a metronome counting down to your doom.

"Well, don't just stand there," she said, her Russian accent thick and commanding. "Take a seat and don't interrupt my lecture again." You heard a few snickers, and quickly made your way to sit next to Steve, the look on his face a mixture of amusement and cockiness.

Dr. Romanoff went back to her lesson, her voice firm and knowledgeable as she discussed the historical significance of the Cyrillic alphabet. You tried to focus, but your mind kept wandering as you watched the woman down below. Steve leaned over and whispered, "You really know how to make an impression." You shot him a glare, but his smirk only grew wider.

You smacked his forearm, a dull thud echoing throughout the silent hall. "Shut up, Steve," you whisper-yell at him, the thud again drawing the attention of your new temporary professor.

"Is my lecture disrupting you two?" Dr. Romanoff's sharp gaze swiveled from Steve to you. The room was so quiet you could almost hear the pages of the textbooks rustling with the tension.

"No, ma'am," Steve said quickly, his smirk replaced by a look of contrition. You nodded in agreement, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"No, Professor Romanoff." you echo, looking down at your books.

"Good," she turned back to the board, scribbling a few more things. "Oh, and Ms..." she turned around, her attention directed right at you.

"Y/N. My name is Y/N."

"Right, Ms. Y/N. I know you missed the beginning of class," she began, walking to the end of the riser that she was on down below. "But I go by Dr. Romanoff." She leaned against the podium, folding her arms across her chest. "I expect punctuality from all my students. This is not a high school hallway, this is a place of higher learning. I'm sure you can appreciate the difference, yes?"

You nodded, swallowing down the embarrassment. Steve was shaking with suppressed laughter next to you, and you shot him another glare.

"If you can't respect the rules of the classroom," Dr. Romanoff continued, her eyes boring into yours, "then maybe you don't belong in this class."

The sniggers echoed across the classroom, as your peers stifled thier laughter. The heat in your cheeks grew into a full-blown blush, spreading down to your neck. You knew Dr. Romanoff's words were a warning shot, and you weren't going to let it get to you. If she was going to call you out, you would make her regret taking this class on.

But as the day rolled into night, you found yourself back in your usual routine. Your friends dragged you out to the local college bar, the smell of stale beer and sweat already wafting through the door. You knew you should keep it light tonight since you had an early class tomorrow, which was your Slavic Studies course. But one drink turned into two, and before you knew it, you were three sheets to the wind. You woke up with a snoring, drooling mess of a woman naked on your chest.

Her hair was a tangled mess of blond, and she had the name of the bar inked on her lower back. You couldn't even remember her name. She was beautiful in the drunken haze of the night before, but in the harsh light of day, she looked like a college freshman who had gone wild on spring break. You gently peeled her off, noticing the time on the clock that read 9 AM.

"Fuck," you whispered, jumping out of bed and shoving your feet into your shoes. You had five minutes to get to class, and your head felt like it was going to implode. The room spun as you stumbled around, trying to grab your bag and jacket. The girl stirred, rubbing her eyes and looking around, bewildered.

"You're leaving?" she slurred, her voice thick with sleep.

"Yeah," you said, trying to sound nonchalant as you threw on your shirt. "I've got class."

The blond girl frowned, sitting up and crossing her arms. "Can't you just skip it?"

"Not if I want to pass," you replied, zipping up your jeans. "Besides, it's Slavic Studies with Dr. Romanoff. She's not the type to let you slide."

"Oh, the hottie professor," the girl said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Can't miss that."

You rolled your eyes, pulling on your shoes. "It's not like that," you mumbled, grabbing your keys and phone from the nightstand. "It's just that she's really strict. You can see yourself out, right...." you waited, not remembering the girl's name.

She rolled her eyes, standing up in her bare glory in the middle of your room. "I should have known you wouldn't remember a thing," she said, snatching her dress from the floor. "Figures you'd be that one."

Ignoring her, you dashed out of the room, the cool air outside a stark contrast to the warmth of the bed you had just vacated. You had never been so late for a class before, and the thought of facing Dr. Romanoff's wrath made your stomach twist into knots. Your feet pounded against the pavement as you sprinted towards the lecture hall, your heart racing in your chest. You weren't sure if you wanted to push her buttons, but yet, here you are doing just that.

You burst through the doors of the lecture hall, sweat beading on your forehead and your breath coming in gasps. The room was eerily quiet, the students all staring at you, and in the front, Dr. Romanoff had her arms crossed over her chest, her expression a storm of annoyance and anger.

"I see punctuality is not a concept you are familiar with, Ms. Y/N," she said, her voice as sharp as a knife. The class tittered again, and you felt your cheeks burn as she called you out. You took your seat, trying to ignore the snickers and smirks of your classmates. Steve was even stifling his laughter.

The lecture continued, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn't focus on the intricate history of Eastern European linguistics when all you could think about was the woman in front of you. She was a force to be reckoned with, and you had never been one to back down from a challenge. You felt a strange thrill at the thought of pushing her buttons, of seeing how far you could take this game of cat and mouse.

Your mind drifted to picturing that red hair in a flaming halo around her head as she lay sprawled out on your bed, or what her raspy, thick accent would sound like moaning in your ear as you pounded into her. You felt a twitch in your pants and quickly shifted in your seat, hoping no one had noticed. Steve's elbow dug into your side, and you snapped your head towards him, only to find him grinning like he knew exactly what you were thinking.

"Earth to Y/N," Steve whispered, jolting you out of your trance. "You okay over there?"

You shot him a glare, trying to keep your face from giving away the embarrassing direction of your thoughts. "I'm fine," you hissed, turning back to the front of the class. Dr. Romanoff was still speaking, her eyes scanning the room as if daring someone to interrupt her again.

For the next few weeks, you managed to show up to class on time twice, but the rest of the days were a blur of oversleeping, forgetting your homework, and stumbling in late with a hangover. Each time, Dr. Romanoff's displeasure grew more palpable, her eyes narrowing at your disheveled state. You found yourself drawn to her, the challenge of getting under her skin becoming a thrilling game that you couldn't resist. The tension in the room was thick, a silent battle of wills that had the rest of the class either avoiding eye contact or eagerly awaiting the next confrontation.

One rainy afternoon, you sauntered into class, drenched from head to toe, your hair sticking to your face. You had been at the bar the night before, trying to dull the pain of your latest failed relationship. Dr. Romanoff's gaze followed you like a spotlight as you shuffled to your seat, the sound of your soggy shoes leaving wet prints on the floor.

"Is there a reason you feel the need to make such a grand entrance every day, Ms. Y/N?" she called out, her tone icy.

"I do it just to get your attention, Professor Romanoff," you emphasize the 'professor', saying it just to dig at her a little bit more.

Her eyebrow quirks up at your remark, but she doesn't respond. Instead, she turns back to the board, her hand gracefully writing out the day's lecture notes. The class shifts uncomfortably, the energy in the room charged with the unspoken tension between you two. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at getting a reaction out of her, even if it was just a minor one.

Days turned into weeks, and your little game of rebellion became the norm. You would show up late, sometimes smelling faintly of the bar, your eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, and she would give you that look—a mix of annoyance and something else you couldn't quite place. You knew you were pushing her buttons, and it was thrilling. Each time she called on you, you would give a half-hearted answer, just enough to get by, watching the frustration build in her eyes.

But as the days grew shorter and the leaves turned a fiery hue, Dr. Romanoff's patience grew thinner. One particularly dreary afternoon, you stumbled in, your breath reeking of last night's tequila, your eyes glued to your phone as you took your seat. The room was silent except for the steady patter of rain outside.

"Ms. Y/N, may I have your attention, please?" she said, her voice slicing through the air like a knife. You looked up, noticing the rest of the class had already settled in, their eyes on you. You felt a flash of annoyance, but also something else—desire. You had never been the rebellious type, but Dr. Romanoff brought it out in you.

You set your phone down with a clatter, smirking. "Sorry, Professor. Did I miss anything important?”

Her eyes narrowed, and you could see the muscles in her jaw tense. "Only your own dignity," she quipped, her Russian accent rolling off the words like a purr. The class snickered again, and you felt your cheeks burn with humiliation. But you weren't about to let her win.

"Is there something you'd like to share with the class, Dr. Romanoff?" you asked, playing coy. You knew you were playing with fire, but you couldn't help yourself. The thrill of the chase was too exhilarating to resist. Steve elbowed you in the side, making you let out a small grunt.

Her eyes narrowed even further, the storm clouds in her gaze hinting at the tempest brewing beneath her calm exterior. "No, Ms. Y/N, but I believe it's time we had a little chat after class."

The words hung in the air, electric with promise. You felt a mix of dread and anticipation, your heart racing in your chest. You had pushed her to her limits, and now you were about to face the consequences. The lecture dragged on, each second feeling like an eternity as you waited for the moment you'd be alone with her.

Finally, the bell rang, and the room emptied out, leaving only the faint echoes of retreating footsteps and the soft patter of rain outside. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the confrontation to come. Dr. Romanoff was still at the podium, her eyes never leaving yours as she packed up her things.

"Ms. Y/N," she called out, her voice as sharp as the click of her heels against the floor as she approached. "I've had enough of your disrespectful behavior. It's time you learned the importance of punctuality and respect."

You met her gaze, your heart racing as you felt a strange thrill at the promise of retribution. "What are you going to do, Professor?" you challenged, your voice steady despite the tremor in your hands.

"I'm going to teach you a lesson you won't forget," she said, her voice low and dangerous. She gestured towards the door at the end of the classroom. "Follow me."

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of fear and excitement as you followed her into the empty hallway. The door to her office was slightly ajar, and she pushed it open, revealing a small, neatly organized space filled with the scent of old books and something faintly metallic. The rain outside had picked up, drumming against the windows like a serenade to your impending doom.

"Take a seat," she ordered, pointing to the chair in front of her desk. You obeyed, your legs feeling like jelly as you sat down. She closed the door with a firm click, and the room seemed to shrink around you. She moved around the desk, heels clicking as her hips swayed in a way that was both mesmerizing and intimidating.

"You've been testing my patience," she began her voice a soft caress that belied the sternness in her eyes. "It seems like you are a bit..." She paused, her gaze drilling into yours. "Distracted."

Your heart raced as you sat there, trying to come up with a witty comeback, but your mouth was as dry as the Sahara. You had never felt so...exposed in front of a teacher before. But there was something about the way she was looking at you that made you feel like she saw right through your bravado.

"I know college is a time for fun," Dr. Romanoff continued, her voice taking on a softer, almost...understanding tone. "But it is also a time for growth and learning. And your behavior suggests to me that you are not taking any of this seriously."

You opened your mouth to protest, but she held up a hand, silencing you. "Don't bother with excuses. I've heard them all before. Instead, I'm going to give you a chance to redeem yourself."

Her gaze was unyielding, and you felt a strange sense of anticipation. "I'm listening," you said, leaning back in the chair, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Good," she said, walking over to the bookshelf and pulling out a thick, leather-bound tome. "You will be staying after your last class every day this week to help me organize the library. And," she added, turning back to face you with the book in hand, "you will be completing all assignments due in the next two weeks by the end of the week. Along with showing up 10 minutes early to class."

Your jaw dropped at the severity of her punishment. "But-"

"No buts," she cut you off, her eyes flashing with a fiery determination. "You want to act like a child, I'll treat you like one. Now, get to work." She settled a stack of books into your lap, leaning back against her desk.

You took the books she handed you, feeling the weight of thier pages and the gravity of her expectations. The smell of leather and dust filled your nose as you looked down at the title of the first book: 'The Historical Significance of Slavic Mythology'. This was going to be a long week.

"But what if I don't finish in time?" You asked, the challenge in your voice clear.

Dr. Romanoff's smile was a sharp line. "Then you'll learn the value of time management," she said, her eyes sparkling with a hint of something that looked suspiciously like amusement. "But I suspect you'll rise to the occasion, Ms. Y/N. After all, I've seen the potential in you."

You scoffed internally at the idea of potential. You were just trying to get through the semester with decent grades and not too many awkward run-ins with your ex. But something in her tone made you want to prove her wrong. Or maybe it was the way she said your name, the way her accent rolled over the syllables that made your stomach flip.

You took the books and trudged out of the classroom, feeling the weight of her gaze on your back. The rain had picked up, soaking your clothes and making you shiver. As you walked to the library, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of anger and excitement. You had never had a teacher who had affected you like this before. She was like a force of nature, and you had no idea how to navigate the storm she had just thrown you into.

The library was a quiet sanctuary, the only sounds were the occasional rustle of pages and the dull murmur of the rain outside. You found a secluded corner and began to organize the books, your mind racing with thoughts of Dr. Romanoff. Her stern demeanor was a stark contrast to the way she had looked at you, something in her eyes hinting at a deeper curiosity, a challenge that you hadn't quite figured out yet.

As you began to slot the leather-bound textbooks back into thier locations, the stark click of heels soon followed you into the library. Dr. Romanoff had slipped into a long black trench coat, shaking off an umbrella as she walked around to the back of the librarian's counter. She leaned against it, watching you with a curious expression, the material of her dress hugging her figure in a way that made you swallow hard.

"Ms. Y/N," she called out, her voice echoing through the vast, silent room. "You're going to need to focus if you want to get all of this done in time."

You glared at her over the stack of books, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "Working on it," you muttered, trying not to let your annoyance show.

"Good," she said, her eyes scanning the rows of books. "Remember, Ms. Y/N, this isn't just busywork. It's an opportunity for you to show me that you're capable of taking responsibility for your actions."

You bit your tongue, resisting the urge to snap back. Instead, you focused on the task at hand, meticulously placing each book in its rightful spot. Hours passed, and the library grew darker as the rain outside turned into a full-blown storm. The only light was the dim glow of the pendant lamps that hung from the high ceiling, casting eerie shadows across the bookshelves.

"Is this really necessary?" you complained, your voice echoing slightly in the vast space. "I'm going to be here all night."

"Well, if you're here all night, I guess you can't be whoring yourself around at the campus bars." Dr. Romanoff's voice was as sharp as the crack of thunder outside. You whipped your head around, glaring at her.

"Excuse me?"

Dr. Romanoff didn't flinch at your outrage. She leaned over the counter, her elbows resting on the cool wood as she studied you. "I know your type, Ms. Y/N. You think you're above this all, that you can just skate by without any real effort." She paused, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "But I see through your facade."

Her words stung, and you felt a surge of anger at her accusation. "You don't know me," you snapped, slamming a book down on the counter. "You're just a teacher, not my mother."

Dr. Romanoff's smile grew wider, as if she enjoyed your defiance. "And yet, I see more of you than you think," she said, her voice dropping to a murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. "I see the potential, the intelligence, buried beneath your carelessness. Maybe you should quit acting like a child, and I wouldn't have to watch you like your mother."

You felt your cheeks burn with indignation. "I don't need a babysitter," you spat out, crossing your arms over your chest.

"No, you don't," she agreed, her eyes still piercing into yours. "But what you do need is discipline."

You rolled your eyes, but something in her tone made you pause. There was a command there, one that resonated deep within you, stirring a part of you that you had buried under layers of carefree college debauchery.

"Is that what you think you're doing?" you asked, trying to keep the anger out of your voice. "Disciplining me?" You set the books down, stalking over to the counter she was leaning against.

Her eyes never left yours as she straightened up. "Maybe that's what you need," she said, her voice low and measured. "Someone to push you to be better than you are. Someone to show you that you can't just glide through life without consequences."

You scoff at her implication. "Yeah, right, Romanoff. That'll show me."

Her expression turns serious. "It's Dr. Romanoff to you, and I mean every word."

You leaned forward, inching your face closer to hers. You were taken aback slightly by the appearance of slight freckles on her face, and how deep her eyes truly were. "You think you can just tell me what to do and I'll listen?" You challenged, your voice low and steady.

Her gaze never wavered. "If you want to pass my class, yes," she said firmly. "But I suspect it's more than that. You crave structure and guidance. Perhaps even...punishment."

"Well, Dr. Romanoff, I would like to see you try." You said, your voice was full of bravado. You were tired of her judgments and her constant needling. You were an adult, capable of making your own choices. You pretended to not notice her breath hitching slightly, and her pupils dilating at your challenge.

"Very well," she said, straightening up. "If you wish to push this, I will give you a taste of what you're asking for." She stepped around the counter, and for a moment, you felt a twinge of fear. But then she opened the drawer and pulled out a stack of index cards. "These are the dates and times of all the assignments due in the next two weeks. You will write them down, and I will check in on your progress every day after class."

You took the cards with trembling hands, the weight of her expectations suddenly feeling very real. "Is this really necessary?" you asked, trying to keep the sarcasm out of your voice.

"You want to see me try, then this is what you asked for, Y/N. And if you still feel the need to spend the night in between someone's legs while blitzed out of your mind, and show up late to class, you will really, truly feel the weight of the consequences of your actions." Her eyes bore into yours, and you felt the challenge in her words.

You turned, walking towards the exit as she called back to you. "Ms. Y/N?" she called out over the books on the counter. You stopped your hand on the doorknob. "Don't forget, I expect to see you promptly in the morning. And don't forget, all those assignments will be double credit whether you do them or not."

Her words hung in the air as you stormed out, the rain now coming down in sheets. Did you feel a strange mix of anger and...excitement? The thought of her waiting for you, watching your every move, was surprisingly thrilling. You didn't know if you were more annoyed at her for making you feel this way or at yourself for letting her get to you. But, if you complete all these assignments with a decent enough grade, you may not have to step foot in her class the rest of the semester.

The next day, you show up to class early, a miracle in itself. After the night you had, drinking yourself into a stupor, and banging some random in the bar bathroom. You groan as you sit in the same seat, feeling the dread of Dr. Romanoffs arrival like a tight coil in your stomach. When she walks in, she doesn't even look at you, but you know she's aware of your presence. You're determined to prove her wrong, to show her that you can handle the work, that you don't need her to babysit you.

The week passes in a blur of early mornings and late nights, your eyes glued to textbooks and your hand cramped from writing notes. You're surprised to find that you're actually learning something, that the Slavic myths and histories are more interesting than you had ever given them credit for. But every time you start to feel a sense of pride in your work, you remember her words—how you're just doing this to avoid her wrath.

On Friday afternoon, you drag yourself into the library, the anticipation of the weekend a distant mirage. Dr. Romanoff is already there, her office light shining like a beacon in the otherwise empty room. She looks up as you approach, her expression unreadable.

"Did you complete the assignments?" she asks, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

"No, I've been running myself ragged for my own entertainment," you reply, sarcasm thick in your voice as you dump the completed assignments on her desk. She takes them without a word, flipping through each page with a critical eye. The tension in the room is palpable, making it difficult to breathe. You can't tell if she's impressed or if she's just biding her time before delivering the next round of punishment.

Her eyes finally meet yours, and you see a flicker of something else. "You've done well," she says, her voice devoid of any warmth, her eyes running up and down your frame. "But this isn't over. I will grade these tonight. But, your behavior in class needs to improve."

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. You felt a strange sense of accomplishment, but also a weird anticipation for what she had in store for you next. "What do you want from me?" you ask, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

"Nothing," she says, her voice cold as ice. "Except for you to start acting like an adult. Your education is not a game to be played with. Have a good weekend, Y/N."

You leave the library feeling both relieved and disappointed. You hadn't realized how much you had been looking forward to the confrontation, the way her sternness made you feel...alive. As you walk back to your dorm, the rain has stopped, leaving the world feeling fresh and clean. You decide to take the long way home, needing the time to clear your head. The less-than-holy thoughts that had been running through your mind about the woman had been all-consuming, and lately, they had begun to affect your... performance with others.

Your Friday night comes and goes, a blur of partying and regret, but you can't shake the feeling that Dr. Romanoff's punishment has changed something within you. You find yourself craving the structure she had imposed, the way she had made you feel...seen.

Saturday was more of the same, you woke up around midday, and your head was a pounding reminder of how you spent your Friday night. The silence of your room was broken by the incessant buzzing of your phone. It was Steve, asking if you were going to make it to the party tonight. You groaned, wondering if your body could take another night like last night.

You rolled out of bed and stumbled to the shower, you couldn't help but think about Dr. Romanoff. Her eyes had been haunting what little dreams you had been having the last week, a mix of curiosity and desire swirling in your subconscious. You felt a strange sense of excitement at the prospect of seeing her again, of feeling her gaze on you in class. You shake your head, trying to dislodge the thoughts. Your efforts were futile, however, and your thoughts soon trailed down a dark and dirty path.

You couldn't help the arousal that coursed through your veins at the thought of your professor begging for her punishment, instead of being the one to dish it out. The water cascading over your body did little to cool the heat that had built up within you. As your shower continued, you began to stroke your length, imagining what it would feel like to sheath yourself inside her. The way she would grip the edge of the desk, her knuckles turning white as she took your punishment with every thrust.

You groaned, the water now turning cold, as you reached your climax. The image of her, begging for more, was burned into your mind as you stepped out of the shower. You had to get dressed and get out of there before you did something stupid, like go to her office and bend her over the desk she so often chastised you behind.

You had never had a teacher affect you so deeply, and it was driving you crazy. You tried to shake the thoughts as you got dressed, but they lingered like the scent of her perfume in the library. The party was in full swing by the time you arrived, the bass thumping through the walls and the air thick with the smell of cheap beer and sweat. Steve was already there, his arm around some girl you didn't recognize.

"Hey, you made it!" he shouted over the music, a grin on his face. You nodded, trying to push aside the thoughts of Dr. Romanoff. You grabbed a beer and let yourself be pulled into the sea of bodies, dancing and shouting. The party was the same as every other one, but you felt...different. More aware, more alive. The way you had felt in the library, under her watchful gaze. You continued to drown your thoughts, trying to wash them out of your mind completely.

Losing count of how many drinks and shots you had, you stumbled past the various half-clothed couples making out, the drunken antics, and party games as you made your way out the door of the house you were at. The cold night air slapped you in the face, an attempt by Mother Nature to sober you up a bit as you walked back towards your dorm. You couldn't get the image of Dr. Romanoff out of your head, even amidst the chaos. Deciding that you didn't want to face your dorm just yet, you meandered your way to an off-campus bar up the road.

Inside, the warmth of the bar was a stark contrast to the cold outside, and the smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke was oddly comforting. You found a quiet corner and slumped into a chair, ordering a whiskey neat. The bartender, a burly man with a thick beard, gave you a knowing look but said nothing as he slid the drink over to you. You took a sip, the burn of the liquor doing little to numb the arousal you felt about your teacher.

As you sat there, the whiskey warming your belly, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched. You glanced over your shoulder, expecting to see Dr. Romanoff standing there with a disapproving look, but it was just the usual college crowd, too absorbed in their own drama to notice you. But the feeling remained as if her eyes were on you even when they weren't. You continued to drink, your eyes darting around the room until you finished.

"Well, I wish I could say I'm surprised to see you here," a familiar, smoky voice came from behind you. You whipped around, and there she was, Dr. Natasha Romanoff, in a pair of tight black jeans and a leather jacket that hugged her body in all the right places. She took a seat next to you, her eyes never leaving yours.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, trying to keep the shock out of your voice.

"I might ask you the same question, Ms. Y/N," she replied, her voice filled with a hint of amusement. "This is hardly the place for someone who's supposed to be studying."

You felt your cheeks heat up at the rebuke, but she wasn't wrong. You took another sip of your whiskey, the liquid burning a path down your throat. "I needed to try and erase some thoughts," you mumbled, not quite meeting her gaze.

Dr. Romanoff leaned in closer, her eyes searching yours. "Thoughts about what?" she asked, her voice dropping to a murmur that seemed to resonate through your entire body. She slowly slid in next to you, her glass sliding on the table before you.

You swallowed hard, the alcohol doing little to ease the sudden dryness in your throat. "Just...about someone I'm trying to forget," you lied, hoping the dim light of the bar would hide your blush. "They're a bit...intense, and out of my league."

Dr. Romanoff's smile was knowing. "Intense, huh?" she said, her voice low and teasing. "Sounds like a challenge you're not quite ready to handle." She leaned closer, her floral perfume slowly overtaking your senses. "But I suspect you enjoy the thrill of the chase."

"Yeah, I do, at times." You replied, the whiskey loosening your tongue. "But sometimes the chase isn't worth it." You took another sip, trying to keep your cool. Her proximity was unnerving, and the way she leaned into you made it difficult to think straight.

"Is that so?" She leaned back in her chair, her eyes never leaving yours. "And what makes you think you're not capable of handling something intense? From what I have overheard, it sounds like you're...very, capable." The way she said "capable" had your heart racing, and you knew she wasn't just talking about schoolwork anymore.

You tried to play it cool, shrugging nonchalantly. "I can handle myself," you said, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. You couldn't help but feel a thrill at her interest, her curiosity about you. "But sometimes, I just want to cool my jets, you know?"

Her gaze was piercing, as if she could see right through your bravado. "I know all about wanting to cool off," she said, her voice taking on a seductive tone that sent a shiver down your spine. "But sometimes, the heat is what makes us grow."

You didn't know how to respond to that, so you took another gulp of your whiskey, the liquid burning a path down your throat. She leaned in even closer, her breath hot against your ear. "But if you truly want to escape your troubles, I can offer you something that might help."

Her hand reached out and brushed against yours, sending a bolt of electricity through your body. You felt your pulse quicken, your heart hammering in your chest. "What are you talking about?" you managed to ask, your voice hoarse.

"Well, Y/N," she began, her voice low, not helping your brain try to forget what she may sound like in bed. "I will miss seeing you in the library, helping me out." She took a sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving yours. "Maybe if you can show up on time, I can help you out."

Your thoughts raced. Did she just offer you a deal? Did she just flirt with you? "What do you mean?" You asked, trying to play it cool, even though your heart was racing.

"Well, Y/N, you'll just have to wait and find out." Dr. Romanoff's smile was enigmatic, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. She leaned back in her chair, the leather squeaking slightly as she put some distance between you. "I'll see you on Monday, Y/N." she winked before she got up, leaving you sitting there, dumbfounded.

The weekend dragged on, filled with a mix of anticipation and dread. Monday couldn't come soon enough, yet you wished it would never arrive. You found yourself both terrified and thrilled by the prospect of what she had in store for you. You tried to distract yourself with friends and more partying, but the thoughts of her kept creeping back in, unbidden and unwelcome.

[gracieheartspedro]

Cool About It

joel miller x fem! reader

Description: you've only patrolled with him a couple times, which made you kind of hate him. but after a night of subtle flirting at the tipsy bison, tons of alcohol, shooting pool, and making fun of some guy's tattoos, you realize you're really into joel. after you get him, you realize maybe you shouldn't want him.

Part 1/3

PART TWO IS HERE

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, drinking, playing pool(?), possible age gap (not specified really), very smutty, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, joel is a menace a bit, ellie is also a little shit haha

hi lovers, how's it going? this is going to be a three-parter, inspired by Boygenius' song "Cool About It". it's gonna be smutty in all three parts so be ready (: please reach out if you have any requests or just wanna talk! I'm friendly I promise lmao

Met you at the dive bar to go shoot some pool

And make fun of the cowboys with the neck tattoos

Ask you easy questions about work and school

I'm trying to be cool about it

Feelin' like an absolute fool about it

Wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it

Tellin' myself I can always do without it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

You keep your head held high while you walk into the Tipsy Bison, the only bar in Jackson. You were not familiar with the walls of the establishment, but the plan was to get out of your comfort zone. You were good at being a social outcast, and Maria, the only friend you had here, told you to try to break out of your shell. 

So here you are, at a bar. 

Immediately you recognize a couple of familiar faces, including the Millers. 

Tommy and Joel were the patrol leaders for Jackson. You always felt comfortable around Tommy. He was more laid back and funny. On the couple of patrols you did with him, he always made sure the time went by quicker. While serious in times that are pressing, he brought light to darker situations. Maria, his wife, was the first person to introduce you to life in Jackson. She got you set up in a house by yourself and had you start patrolling when she realized you were an excellent shot. She was kind, always making sure you were looking out for yourself and invited you to family dinners sometimes.

Joel was different. 

Very quiet and deadly serious when he was speaking. He made you feel insecure about your abilities, always double and triple checking things behind you. You couldn’t bring your own horse out of the stable without him checking your pack and ensuring you packed extra bullets. 

“You never know what’s out there, girl,” He would tell you. 

You find an empty seat at the bar. Only one seat away from Joel. 

The bartender approaches you, asking what you’d like. You gesture towards Maria.

“Whatever she’s havin’.” 

Maria finally takes notice from beside Tommy and waves at you with a huge smile plastered on her face. It warmed your cold little heart. 

“Hey pretty lady,” She hops out of her chair to give you a half hug, “Glad you are doing this.”

Tommy was looking at you from beside Joel, a smirk playing on his face.

Joel stared forward with no emotion, not even daring to glance your direction.

“How’s it goin’?” Tommy asks, scooting his chair back to begin his way over to you, taking a spot next to Maria. 

You nod, “It’s going.”

“You were on that patrol with the raiders a couple days ago, right?”

He was referring to two days ago when a couple of shitty raiders took down your partner’s horse and almost shot you through the back. You guys got the upper hand, of course. You never went without packing two guns, so you had quickly slid off your horse to find cover behind a downed tree and used a hunting rifle to take two headshots. Your partner wasn’t so lucky. He was an older man and he fell hard when his horse went down. You had to race back to Jackson getting him into the infirmary as quickly as you could. Turns out he broke his arm and a couple of ribs. He would be off patrols for awhile. 

“Sure was,” You reply, “Luckily Eugene got out with just a broken arm. I was happy to be there for him.”

Before Tommy could reply to you, Joel quips up. 

“He told me you got both of the guys between the eyes,” He mumbles, “That true?”

You shake my head positively. You didn’t even want to speak to him in fear that you’d say the wrong thing. He would overanalyze you at the drop of a hat. 

“That’s impressive,” Tommy remarks, “Glad you got out of it unscathed.”

“My girl here is a badass,” Maria pats your shoulder, “Glad you are doing better. I know you were a rattled a bit.”

You take a sip of my drink, noting the intense burn, “Yeah, me too.”

You guys make more small talk, mainly about some recent patrols and what you found. You try to act interested, but the truth was you wanted to go home and read. Your mind was better occupied with made up stories than the stories that were playing out before you in real life. 

“I think we should get home to Ian,” Maria says to Tommy, referring to their newer son. He was about five months now, very cute, and chunky. He resembled your nephew before the world stole him and his mother from you. So you always refused to hold Ian, knowing it would send you into a spiral as soon as his little fingers found yours. Maria understood, telling you she knew exactly how you felt. She’s felt loss like that before, too.

“Ellie probably wants to be relieved of her cousin duties,” Joel grumbles from beside Tommy, “Poor girl doesn’t know what she agreed to.”

“Ian’s sleepin’,” Maria says putting on her coat, “She is probably bored.”

“Tell her to head home when you see her,” Joel comments. 

You have met Joel’s girl more than once. She was kind of stand-offish, intially. Now that you’ve met her a couple times, she was more chatty and goofy. She was a spitfire towards Tommy, which always made you laugh. 

From what you understood, Joel had a daughter before the outbreak. Tommy and Maria keep her name on a little memorial above their fireplace, with Maria’s son’s name scribbled beside hers. You didn’t know the backstory behind Ellie, but you realized the last time you were around all of them, she doesn’t call him dad. Just Joel or old man. Maybe she adopted?

Maria pulls you out of your thoughts, nudging you a bit. 

“Stay awhile, have another drink.”

You nod giving her a gentle smile, “I will. Get home safe.”

“See you around, girl,” Tommy says, giving you a half hug. You turn back to face the bar, noticing Joel’s still sipping on his whiskey. 

You two sit in awkward silence when they leave, not saying much to one another. You drink your second round quickly, calling over the bartender for another one. Joel says he wants the same. Once you get your pours, he finally decides to talk again.

“You still with that one guy?”

You look at him curiously, not sure who he’s talking about. You rack your brain trying to figure out who he’s referring to and then it hits you. 

“Kendrick? Oh no, he’s not anything,” You respond. 

Kendrick was one of your patrol partners. You two hooked up once and realized it was too weird. He was younger than you, which didn’t mean much. But that was a huge factor in his performance. He wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t know what foreplay was, which meant the sex was dry and not pleasurable in the slightest. 

“It seemed like something the other day,” Joel notes, “Wouldn’t stop staring at you at the town meeting.”

You could not help but notice the slight venom in his tone. 

“Interesting you’re taking notice to other guys who look at me. You jealous, Miller?”

He turns to you finally, his eyes a bit glassy. The whiskey was making him bold, you could tell. 

“Just observant,” He remarks, “He doesn’t seem like your type.”

“Oh, now you know my type?”

He shakes his head at your response, “I imagine you like them a bit older than him.”

Maybe you were overanalyzing the situation, but it seemed to you that Joel Miller was flirting with you. You felt like he was suggesting you were into him. 

Truth be told, you did like them older. You liked a rugged man who was a bit of a mystery. You also liked assholes. All things Joel Miller was. So maybe you were into him.

You lean in to speak to him quietly, “Are you trying to suggest something?”

“Not at all,” He murmurs, “Just answering your question. Am I wrong?”

You purse your lips, “Not wrong.”

Another awkward silence. 

“Wanna play some pool?”

You furrow your eyebrows, not knowing how to respond. You think his goal was to change the subject and avoid more silence. So you just nod, hopping off your barstool. The two of you make your way through some occupied tables to the one empty pool tables. You grab a stick while Joel starts to corral all the balls and set them in place.

You’ve played pool before, but you were never good. Your ex found a pool table once while you two were traveling and he spent hours teaching you how to play. It led to a screaming match. You decided after that, it just wasn’t for you. 

Joel was patient, watching you line up the white ball and hit it with hardly any force, not breaking up any of the balls. You just shake your head in disappointment. 

“You ever play?”

“Yeah, I just suck.”

“Fair enough,” He replies, taking his shot. You guys go back and forth. You getting no balls in the pockets, him getting all the balls in the pockets. 

You ask him about patrols he’s been on recently, trying to make light conversation. You really just wanted to see if your conversation would lead back to where it started. 

It didn’t. 

Instead you two got more rounds of drinks and played more pool. He became more chatty, standing behind you every time you tried to take a shot, giving you advice here and there. Once you stood straight up after finally getting a ball in a pocket, he leaned in a bit. 

“You see that guy over there?”

He gestured towards an older gentleman at one of the far tables. He seemed like the type to have a Confederate flag hanging outside his house. He also seemed like the type to call a woman a slur if they turned down his advances. Maybe you are just a bitch and assuming all of this. Or your assumptions about a man were right, per usual. 

You turn to Joel, glancing up at him. He was close, his face centimeters away. 

“Mhm?”

“He’s got all those tattoos,” He looks towards the man again, “The one on his neck is a skull with one of those Native headdresses. Looks fuckin’ dumb.”

The way he says it sends you into a fit of giggles. He starts to laugh, too. It was the first time you saw him genuinely smile and damn did it look beautiful on him. His eyes crinkled a bit, his shoulders falling in a very relaxed way. 

You finish up your round of pool and decide it’s time for the both of you to retire back to your houses. Conveniently, your house was right off Rancher Street just like his. You grab your coat off the one barstool, watching Joel put on his. 

“We are going the same way, do you mind walkin’ with me?”

“No problem.”

-

You two walked side by side, your steps almost in sync. It was much darker now, the sun set hours ago. You felt like you went through a time jump. You didn’t feel like you spent tons of time at the Tipsy Bison. 

Joel’s house is before yours on the street, so when you arrive in front of his steps, he stops completely.

“Here’s me,” Joel mutters, “You comin’ in?”

“Should I?” You question, stupidly.

“Well I invited you, so yeah,” He suggests, “You should.”

He walks in front of you, reaching for his front door. His house was comfy and warm. Looking around, you could tell he kept it well maintained. It was clean, only a couple dust bunnies lined the hallway baseboards. He had pictures on the walls and blankets littering the couch.

“I ain’t done this in awhile,” He says, sliding his boots off at the front door. You follow suit, not really taking in the words he said. He stares at you carefully, waiting for a response.

“I’m sorry, what exactly?”

He approaches you slowly, his demeanor shifting. He looks down at you, his stature a lot bigger than most of the men you’ve been with, you note. He was broad and brilliantly tanned. His dark chocolate hair was speckled with grays. He had some fine lines on his face, especially where he furrowed his eyebrows 24/7. 

“Brought a girl home.”

His brown eyes grow ever darker, his arm enveloping you for a moment. You don’t pull away, letting him bring your body closer to his. You feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach, something you’ve not felt with a man in years.

“Feelin’ a bit rusty?” You suggest, your hands resting on his chest.

“Don’t know about that,” He mutters, “Do know I’ve been thinkin’ about this for a while.”

His comment takes you back, completely sobering you up. The warmth from the alcohol subsides and you blink at him for a minute.

“What do you mean, a while?”

His face centimeters away from yours, again. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, having to get on your tiptoes to do so. 

“Meanin’ every time ’m around you, I think of how amazing your ass looks in those jeans.”

Your heart skips a beat. 

“You’re only now telling me this, Joel?” You ask, playing up that you were annoyed. You were kind of, because what the fuck, you could’ve had him sooner?

“Didn’t think a pretty young thing like you would want me,” He says, “Now I know better.”

He leans down, his lips hardly touching yours. You assume he’s waiting for your move, so you give in first, capturing his lips against yours. It was gentle at first, until he takes notice to how you’re pulling him down further.

He deepens the kiss, pressing your back against one of the walls nearby. His lips were soft, his mustache tickling you a bit. He adds tongue seamlessly, feverishly grabbing you everywhere. Your hips, lower back, your butt. 

I can’t believe I’m making out with Joel right now. 

Your brain stops for a moment when you realize one thing you never thought about before. Where’s Ellie?

It brings you out of the kiss. You pull away slowly, trying not to alarm him too much.

“Is Ellie home?” You mutter, your eyes fluttering open to meet his. 

He looks to the side, glancing out the back window. 

“Probably, but she stays in the garage out back. She has uhm,” He gestures towards the backyard, “Has a whole set up in there. She never comes in here, don’t worry.”

It reassures you enough to bring him back into the kiss. His hands return to your waist, pulling you closer. You couldn’t help but grip his arms, feeling his muscles through his long sleeve. 

“Bring me to bed, Miller,” You moan between kisses, “Need you now.”

He doesn’t say anything before he leans down, hiking your legs up around his waist. He carries you like you’re a light little feather. You use this time to attach your lips to his neck, giving him soft kisses up to his earlobe. 

Joel may be a bit older than you, but he carried you up the stairs like no other 50-something-guy could. He didn’t even fumble, his steps heavy and calculated. Once you two get to the landing, he readjusts you, his hands now holding you up by your ass. 

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” He murmurs in your ear, walking you into his bedroom. It smells like fresh air, which throws you off a bit. You notice the one window in the corner is cracked slightly, letting in the springtime air. 

He tosses you on his made up bed, making you a bounce a bit. He’s standing over you looking a bit dishelved, his eyes dark with desire. 

He unbuttons his shirt, shaking it off his shoulders. You watch the piece of fabric fall away from him. His upper body is toned, some areas of his stomach and shoulders are littered with scars. The moonlight highlights them, but honestly, they made him hotter. He looked more dangerous, more unattainable for a girl like you. 

“You just gonna gawk?” He teases, leaning down to let his lips meet yours again. In between kisses, he tugs down your pants, leaving you just in your underwear and top. He throws your pants across the room, his hands trailing up your bare thighs. 

“Let me get my top off,” You say pulling away from his eager lips. He sits back on his knees, watching you slowly peel off your top and undershirt. The undershirt has a built in bra that hardly keeps your boobs supported, but it was easier than wearing the uncomfortable bras you usually wore. You throw both shirts across the room before you lean back on your elbows again. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” He says, his hands reaching out to touch you. He finds your collarbones first, before letting one hand trace the swell of your breasts. He was taking his time with you. 

“You just gonna gawk?”

He smiles. 

“I am gonna ruin you, girl,” He spits. You stare at him with your best doe eyes, trying to see what kind of rise you could get out of him. 

He grabs one of your boobs, before pushing you all the way on your back. His lips trace all over your body before ghosting right above where your underwear sit on your lower tummy. 

“Joel-” You begin, until he starts tracing your slit with his fingers, right over your panties. 

“Hm?” He chuckles, his soft touches making you writhe under him, “What, sweetheart?”

“Need you-” You choke out, “Please.”

He chuckles darkly, “Love to see you beg.”

You knew he was going to be dominant, but you didn’t expect him to be so candid. He seemed so quiet and steadfast in day to day life, so when you see him like this, you knew you were fucked. He was the type to talk you through the whole experience, something you’d never had with another man. Everyone you had slept with was so vanilla. No one was like the guys in the novels you read. Dominant, hungry for more, and vocal. 

“Let’s take these off,” He says wrapping his finger around the band of your underwear. You were so giddy now, you lift your ass a bit so he could get them off you. When you do that, your bare pussy gets so close him that you could feel his breath on your mound slightly. 

“You ever been eaten out before, girl?”

You shake your head, “Yes, but I didn’t really enjoy it.”

“Just let me know when you’re about to cum, baby,” Baby, “I know you will.”

You loved how cocky he was. It made the anticipation almost too overwhelming.

He leans down, his tongue flattening over your slit. You watch him close his eyes and instantly get into devouring you. He flicks his tongue up and down, eventually pressing his lips around your mound. You lose all ability to speak, so when he pulls away, you groan in displeasure. 

He says nothing, just put his middle finger and ring finger into his mouth, covering them in his saliva. He looks up at you, those fingers beginning to trace you up and down. 

“You-” Is all you can say before he’s sinking his fingers inside. He reattaches his lips to your clit, sucking as he fucks you with his digits. The wet squelching from the action sends your head into orbit. You cannot believe how good it feels because every other sexual encounter you had the guy would go in dry, maybe giving you kitten licks, and call it eating you out. But not Joel. Joel knew a woman’s anatomy. He knew exactly how to treat it. 

You just moan out his name, letting his actions take you to that familiar heat build up in your tummy. Usually you had to get there yourself. You throw your head back into his pillows, your eyes crushing shut as you take in the feeling. 

“Hey,” You hear Joel growl, “Eyes on me, or I stop.”

Your eyes fly open, watching him return to sucking your clit. As you stare down, you notice him adding another finger into the mix. The pressure felt so good, your walls feeling everything he was giving you. 

“Can I please,” You are about to let go, but you remember you were supposed to tell him, “Cum?”

You can’t even form sentences. 

He pulls away.

“Since you asked nicely,” His lips are wet with your slick, “Cum.”

The magic word that sends you into pure bliss. Your body quakes while he still fucks you with his fingers. You can only chant his name, begging him not to stop. 

He removes his fingers, smiling at your post orgasm face. You blush, suddenly becoming extremely self aware. You had no reason to be timid or shy now, being splayed out like you are in front of Joel. 

He stands tall over you, making you feel so small in his big bed.

“That was so good baby, but I ain’t done with you,” He pulls you by your legs to the edge of the bed, “Need that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock.”

“Jesus fuck,” You moan, still sensitive from what he just did to you. 

He groans, “Name is Joel. No Jesus here.”

He just had to give into the dad jokes. You slap your forehead in disappointment, making him grin a bit. 

“Got you all nice and stretched, now.”

You realize he hasn’t even taken off his pants in that moment, because he pulls down his tented pants to reveal himself to you. He was bigger than you’ve ever had, which sent you gawking again. He pumps himself, watching your widened eyes. 

“You’re too easy to read, girl,” He mutters, “I’ll inch it in, let you get adjusted nicely.”

You lean forward a bit, back onto your elbows, “You’re gonna fucking split me in half.”

He runs his dick between your wet core, which sends shockwaves up your body. 

“Like I said,” He licks his lips, “I got you nice and stretched.”

Him repeating it made you smirk devilishly. He continued to run his cock up and down your wetness, getting ready to plunge into you. 

When he stops right in front of your hole, he stares into your eyes like he’s trying to read your mind. 

“Fuck me, Joel Miller.”

He sinks into you, inch by inch. You groan in pleasure. The stretch is nothing like his fingers, it’s even better. 

He’s taking his time, pulling back a bit before pushing back into you. It’s slow, gradual. After three pumps, he leans down to catch your lips. He continues to grind into you, the mixture so intoxicating. You moan into the kiss, your mouth opening up for his tongue to slip in. He tasted like you, which was something you never really tasted before. 

“Your pussy was made for me,” He moans, “Fuckin’ hell.”

He sits back, bringing the pace up a bit, his balls slapping into you now. The sounds were borderline pornographic. The panting, the wetness, the slapping. 

“You’re takin’ me so well,” He grunts, “I want to hear you.”

You cry out as he speeds up, “Please, d-don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t. He keeps the pace the same as he fondles your boobs. He pinches your perked up nipples, clenching his teeth. You can tell he’s getting close, but instead of chasing that high, he stops. 

He manhandles you, pulling you up like he did when he carried you up the stairs. He somehow keeps his dick inside you as he finds a seat on the bed. He’s holding you above him, completely switching positions. 

“Want you to ride me,” He says, “Need to see those beautiful tits bouncin’.”

You take up the challenge. You rest on your knees first. You circle your hips, dragging your clit across his lower tummy. You never knew you could feel so full before, especially in this position. 

He just stared at you in awe, playing with your tits as you grind down on him. 

You take one of his hands in your own, placing it right below your belly button. 

“I feel you right here, Joel,” You moan, “Fillin’ me up so good.”

You knew he wanted to cum right there because his dicks twitches inside you. 

“You are one dirty girl,” He growls, “You’re lucky I’m even letting you cum again, talkin’ like that.”

You plant your feet on the bed, finding all your strength to start bouncing on him. He steadies you, bringing his hips up to meet yours. This angle hits different, especially when Joel’s thumb finds your clit again. You couldn’t help yourself, chasing that same high you felt before when his face was between your thighs. 

You look down at him with hooded lids, “I’m gonna cum again.”

“Yes you are,” He smirks, “Cum all over me baby, I feel you.”

Your release hits you, making you fall to your knees again. Your hips girate, the spasming around Joel’s cock sending him into a moaning mess. He lets your settle for a moment before lifting you back up. His dicks slides out, which causes him to hiss and you to groan. Instead of laying you face up, he throws you face down into the pillows. 

“My turn,” He says, dipping his cock back into you. As soon as it happens, you realize you weren’t done. That same sensitivity was back, but this time you felt the burning pick back up even quicker. He’s settling into a brutal pace, grabbing both your ass cheeks and spreading them apart. You turn your head, trying to get a view of him. 

He was watching himself plunge into you, over and over again. It had to be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s dripping in sweat, his body glistening, clenching his teeth at the sight of your bodies meeting. 

“‘m bout to cum,” He moans, “Where do you want it?”

“Fuck it into me, Joel.”

The words slips out so quickly. The tipping point hit you both at the same time, the spasming hitting you all over again. You scream into the pillows, biting into them trying not to be too loud. He releases himself into you, stilling his movements. 

He doesn’t say anything when he pulls out, you both just breathe out loudly. You felt so empty without him. 

You had never cum so much in one night before. 

Joel Miller made you cum three times. 

Without any help. 

You hear his footsteps trail to his attached bathroom, hearing some water run from the faucet. You return to laying on your back, unsure if you could trust your legs to stand. Joel’s figure returns to the room, a damp rag in his hands. He smirks at you all the while nudging your legs apart. He slowly drags the rag around your sensitive area, making sure to get any cum that was leaking out of you. After he cleans you up, he wipes off his dick a bit. 

He tosses the rag into a basket of clothes nearby. 

“You want any water?”

You take note to how gentle and sweet he was being after being so aggressive towards you before. It was a side of Joel you really appreciated. He wasn’t talking down to you, he genuinely took your needs into account.

“I think I’ll be okay,” You respond, your eyes finally shutting, “Don’t think I’ll be able to walk home.”

“You can stay,” He grumbles, walking to the side of the bed, “We both have patrol in the morning anyway.”

Your eyes fly open, “Shit, I do! Wait-”

“Yeah I’m on with you. For the rest of the week.”

You could scream. This man just gave you the best dick of your life and now you had to patrol with him? You didn’t know how you’d be able to contain yourself.

“Fuck,” You place your hands over your face. You settle in the thought that you needed to sleep if you were going to be alive for morning patrol and you’d worry about your horny desires for Joel.

“C’mere,” He says, pulling you further up the bed. He positions you next to him in the bed, pulling some covers over you, leaving your boobs still out for his viewing pleasure. He wrapped one arm under you, letting it rest around your neck. 

His sheets were flannel and so warm. His scent overtook you as soon as you relaxed into the pillows. One of them is the one you bite into earlier. 

You felt at peace, wanting to stay in this spot for as long as possible. 

“I’ll wake you a bit earlier so you can go home and get dressed,” He grumbles, “And…”

You don’t even realize how tired you are. Before Joel can finish his sentence, you fall into a deep slumber, praying sunrise doesn’t come too quickly. 

-

You wake up when it’s still dark outside. Joel woke you up with a gentle nudge. You shoot up, scared for a moment before you take in your environment. You realize he’s fully dressed already. You groan, rubbing your eyes. 

When you start to slip out of bed, you start realizing you’re still completely naked. 

And in Joel’s bed. 

You plant your feet on the wooden floorboards, using the light from the one lamp in the corner of the room to find your clothes. You could not find your panties for the life of you, so you give up and just shove your legs into your jeans and throw your shirt over your head. Joel lets you wake up in silence, not asking you questions until you make it downstairs. 

“I’ll see you at the stables,” He mutters, pouring warm water into a mug that has a tea bag hanging off of it, “You go get changed.”

He was being short, you could tell. You feel a sinking feeling, like he probably regretted what happened last night. Before you could respond, the back door swings open and a smaller frame enters the dark house. 

“Ellie,” Joel hisses, “What are you doing up?”

Her tired eyes are on you. You freeze in your spot, not knowing how to react or what to say. Your head just races with shitshitshitshit.

“I knew I heard your voice last night!” She laughs, “Y’all have fun?”

Your cheeks heat up instantly, not able to think of a response. 

“Ellie!” His voice is stern and borderline scary, “Go back to your room, now.”

It was a demand. 

She just chuckles, grabbing the door handle and pulling it close. 

“See you around, Joel’s lady friend.”

You stand there completely dumbfounded and embarrassed. Joel sips on his hot tea, not really paying attention to your response to Ellie calling you his lady friend. 

“Go get dressed.”

It was another demand. It sent shockwaves through your body. Maybe your sinking feeling was correct. 

Joel only did what he did last night because of the alcohol. It didn’t change how he’d treat or talk to you in real life. You kind of wished he’d just be cruel about it. Like he would just read your mind and tell you how stupid you were to think this would change anything. 

You felt like a fool.  You don’t say anything as you walk to the door and put on your boots. As you walk out of the house, you promise yourself to take it one minute at a time. Don’t overthink everything. Just let it be a one night stand. Don’t make it about your feelings. Be cool about it.

[bigbadvoxbox]

Hi, I would like to ask for a smut from Adam x fem Reader, he takes Lucifer's wife so he can get back at Lucifer I love your posts

THANKS ANON

warnings: previous lucifer x reader. unprotected sex (don't do this). degradation if you squint? like a brief mix of both degradation and praise.

- Lucifer's pretty ex-wife, almost looking more like an angel than a demon, which was one thing that Adam found pretty appealing. The attractive appearance, with the subtle demonic features? Badass. He was into it.

- Puts his plan into action. He knows usually he can get any girl he wants, he's fucking Adam, but you're gonna be special. You were Lucifer's bitch (affectionately), so he wants to make this BIG.

- He plays it real cool. Lucifer almost hands you over himself, sending you to a meeting Adam had requested instead of showing up himself. This was the second time Lucifer had bailed like this now, what a little bitch. He can't help but feel lucky that even after splitting, you were still on okay enough terms for Lucifer to ask you such a favour.

- You have a little chat, and he plays a few harmless little jokes on you. It's been a while since you've laughed this way, and you confide in Adam that Lucifer wasn't the most social. You missed him. He stayed locked away in his room, and you got a small "hi, sweetheart" now and again, but it just wasn't the same. Not compared to how he used to hold you in his arms, sing songs to you, like a fairytale type of love. You missed that. Which was why you left him.

- Adam couldn't help but scoff at this, he should've expected as much from Lucifer.

- "Y'know, he missed out on some good shit. You're a fuckin' hottie. I don't know what he was doing ignoring a babe like you." He says. It's meant to be... comforting? Maybe? In his own way. You're a little confused, but also a little flattered?

- You two start to gossip like friends would, and you become more comfortable with the man sitting a few seats away from you, completely forgetting about the business portion of this meeting (a.k.a. the bullshit Adam made up to even get the meeting in the first place).

- He brags about himself a bit, and you can't help but find it the littlest bit charming, in a funny way. He talks about his band, how he "fuckin' shreds like a badass" on the guitar, and how the fangirls go crazy for him.

- "I'm not too interested in them though. I have my eye on someone else. I mean- yeah, they're cute 'n all, but nothing compared to this one chick I've been thinkin' about lately. She's somethin' real special." he explains.

- "A cute little lady whose shitty ex-husband left her feelin' so lonely... and unsatisfied too, I bet."

- That's when you catch on, taking notice of the subtle flirtatious smirk that plays on his lips. You feel your cheeks burn the slightest bit, and you turn your head away, a bit speechless.

- Adam knows he has you now.

- A few sweet words later, and steps closer that you didn't even really seem to notice him taking, too busy focusing on his (slightly vulgar) flattery, you now feel each other's breath against your faces. The moment is tense, and his lips, now exposed after he removed his mask, ghosting over yours.

- The mask was quite the reveal. But you had to admit, he was not at all bad looking. He wasn't exceptional, but he didn't need to be. You liked him just the way he was. In this small meeting he had shown you more kindness and attention than your husband had in a while.

- One thing led to the next. A flirtatious glance, a gentle brush against each other's hand, and next thing you know, you're laying on your back on the meeting table, Adam between your legs, his lips on your neck.

- He can't help but leave you absolutely covered in hickeys. It's nice to be possessive over something. Someone who's his now. He finally turned the tables on Lucifer, and that thought can't help but bring a smug grin to his face.

- When he was joking around earlier, calling himself the "dick master" you thought he was kidding.

He was not.

- He fucking pounds you into the table, one hand on your waist, the other on your tits, feelin' you up and teasin' you to get you all flustered. He wonders how long it's been since you felt this good, but don't worry, he'll make you forget all about that.

- He can't deny that you feel (ironically enough) fucking heavenly. It's like he can't get enough of it. Not only is the sex itself amazing, he just can't get enough of the victorious feeling of getting back at Lucifer.

- Trust me when I say he has you SCREAMING. He's so fucking glad he didn't use the hologram, instead taking the risk of going down to Hell himself, just for the opportunity to feel that cunt on his cock.

- "That's a good fuckin' bitch."

- He honestly can't even quite help the filth that just comes out of his mouth so naturally, his language vulgar but.. kinda hot?

- He can't help but cum inside you and fill you up, groaning a drawn out "Fuck yes." as he hovers over you on the table.

- He's pretty happy with his new badass demon bitch by his side, and his visits to Hell on "business" become a lot more frequent. The business in question is just him fucking you in every possible position, leaving you covered in hickeys, kisses, and bite marks. You're all his now. Suck it, Lucifer.

THATS IT

it's almost 4 am so this is not at all proofread

so if it's shit

i'm sorry

edit: the cheating part made me feel bad so i switched it up

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

You were ambling back to your shitty little apartment, dripping with mud, and sweat, and gore from the Commonwealth's version of "community service." When you looked up toward your building, you were surprised to see Daryl standing there waiting, his crossed arms highlighting his broad shoulders. You sighed, wondering if you were about to get a scolding.

He seemed to just look you up and down for a long moment, taking in the splatters of walker blood all over you. "Heard ya got assigned clean-up duty," he drawled. "What the hell happened?"

You scoffed. "You mean what did I do?" He nodded. "I—I may have punched Sebastian in the face after he made a disgusting and offensive comment..." You sank down on one of the concrete steps and waited for his reaction.

"That spoiled little shit?" Daryl asked. You nodded. He sighed and sat down next to you. "'M sure he deserved it. How many hours did they give you?"

"Thirty," you said.

"You're lucky they didn't banish you. Kid is like fuckin' royalty or some shit."

You tilted your head. "Kind of. Except I think his mother is equally as disgusted with his behavior most of the time..." Daryl hummed his agreement. You glanced over at him. "Can I tell you something?'

He nodded. "'Course."

"I kind of fucking hate it here."

A wry laugh left Daryl and he nodded. "Ya don't say..."

"Something about this place feels... off. Something's wrong. Or rotten. I don't know..." you trailed off, looking across the street at the dilapidated apartment buildings where they shoved the lowest class of people. "I know I should probably feel more grateful. There are walls and more reliable food and... but I just—I kind of wish I was back on the outside. It was... freedom. Sometimes terrifying and frequently hard and awful, but freedom." You glanced over at Daryl again and he had a queer expression on his face. "You think I'm nuts?" you laughed.

He shook his head. "Nah. Hell no. Ya just said everythin' I've been feelin' too. Somethin' is rotten in here. Ya ain't wrong."

"Are we trapped?" you asked in a low voice, a shot of anxiety causing your heart to beat erratically for a brief moment.

"Us?" Daryl repeated. "Fuck no. We ain't ever gonna be trapped. Everythin' we've already been through? They've got another damn thing comin' from us if shit goes south." He climbed to his feet and held out a hand to pull you to yours. "Listen, if that little prick comes sniffin' around ya again, ya lemme know. I'll take care of it. Try and keep yerself out of trouble."

You smiled at him and shrugged. "Being one of those Stormtroopers give you some kind of immunity?"

He shrugged. "I doubt it. But I'll deal with that asshole so you dun gotta. I'd love the excuse..."

"Alright," you laughed. "Deal."

He nodded and gave you a tight smile. "Try and get some sleep," he said.

"Yeah... you too."

Prompt: "Can I tell you something?"

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Bed Chem - Rafe Cameron One Shot

+18 Minor DNI

Older!Rafe x Female Reader

⭐ NEW DROP ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

✨bonus smut for Please Please Please - contains spoilers if you haven’t read the final chapter. No prior context needed to read this one shot only that they got engaged and are traveling to Morocco on business together. ✨

🪄 warnings: rafe and reader are wine drunk, food play, rough oral, oral (male receiving), oral (female receiving), fingering, praise, softdom!rafe, spanking, swearing, pet names, teasing, overstimulation, unprotected sex, ownership kink, creampie, cum play, cockwarming

📖 Rafe and the reader celebrate their engagement 💍

✨ "Shit..." He whispers as you taunt him, cleaning the sweetness off your fingers, slipping each one in your mouth until all that remains is your ring finger. Rafe grabs your hand fast, drawing it to his lips, sucking your finger up to the diamond. "Mrs. Cameron…" ✨

3k <- almost all smut

Reader’s POV:

"Oh fuck, baby. We have dessert." Rafe smiles as he picks you up playfully, setting you down on the kitchen counter. He saunters to the fridge, grabbing the cake before turning around, matching your eyes with a smirk. After his proposal, you were both hanging on barely, sexual tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. You cross your legs, your dress pulling up on your thigh, making Rafe chuckle lustfully. He stares back at you, walking with the dessert in hand.

“My fiancé. Fuck, I love that,” he hums as he lays the cake on the counter. His hands rest on both sides of your thighs, big forearms flexing as he tilts in for a kiss, the pair of you wine-drunk and blissfully happy—the perfect moment. Rafe’s tongue slips in your mouth, rolling slowly, letting you taste the red liquor and sweetness of his lips.

“I love it too, daddy,” you giggle breathily. “Don’t wanna wait to be your wife.”

“Morocco? I mean, unless you want somethin’ big.”

“No…” You sigh between soft kisses. “I just need you.”

“Consider it done.”

Rafe pulls back reluctantly, showing you the cake. “Our favorite,” you smile.

“Mhmm,” he hums as he sinks a fork into the decadent chocolate. "For you, pretty girl.” Rafe lifts it to your lips, feeding you, waiting for a reaction.

“Perfect," you moan.

"You're perfect,” Rafe toys as he leans in, his lips meeting your neck. Your head instantly falls back, giving him better access to your skin. He chuckles deeply, nibbling your ear lightly, teasing you before pulling away. “You a little drunk there, babydoll?” You roll your eyes and chuckle before sliding your tongue along your bottom lip, catching some chocolate lingering.

“Are you?” You smile.

He nods ‘yes’; the high points of his already flushed cheeks blush. "So, what do you think, sweetheart?" He digs his fork into the cake; eyes flickering up to yours, making your heart skip.

"About the cake?" You tease. He snorts and chuckles in reply. "I think...It’s amazing, baby. M’so excited about this,” you lift your hand, wiggling your ring finger, watching the carats dance in the candlelight. “I cannot wait to be Mrs. Cameron."

"Yeah?" He asks as he inches closer. You nod in reply, giving your lip a soft bite. "Mrs. Cameron," he echos. “And, is the future Mrs. Cameron wearin’ somethin’ pretty under this gorgeous dress f’me?”

”Of course I am.”

“I’m a lucky man. N’do you always dress this nice for work,” he smiles as he plays with the hem of your satin dress, letting his rough fingers drift underneath, taking hold of your upper thigh, teasing your lace-clad pussy with the pad of his thumb.

“No… I just had a feelin’ that someone was going to come home.”

“You know me too well. I’ve been gone for a week, princess. And that time difference… Fuck. It’s crazy.”

“We make it work. Those pictures you sent me the other day, Daddy…” You bite back a flustered laugh.

“Yeah - Yeah… After you sent me a few pictures during a business deal I had to leave early and take care of myself, doll. You're bad for business. You know?”

“You probably needed to relax,” you coo as you brush his bangs off his pretty face.

“Did you relax, sweetheart? Play with this perfect pussy of yours?” He smiles as he applies a little more pressure with his thumb.

“Of course I did.”

“Yeah?” He asks feeding you a little more cake. “Tell me about that.”

"Three times, baby," you chuckle.

“Three?”

“Mhmm… When I got them, after my bath, and before I went to bed.”

"Naughty thing. Huh? What did you do, sweetheart?"

Your cheeks blush as you let out a soft giggle. "I used that vibrator you got me... and just pretend it's you," you sigh, shutting your eyes softly. Your eyes open, and his mouth is agape, chuckling delightedly as he wraps his arm around your waist, needing you closer. “You're so much better, Rafe. So... much...better," you whisper against his lips, kissing him softly.

"I miss hearing you say my name," he whispers the words against your lips, playing and sucking on the bottom before taking it between his teeth.

"I still do,” you smile.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he groans, relaxing his forehead on your shoulder in sexual exhaustion.

"Mmm... And what do you do, Ray?"

"I touch myself too..." He returns his eyes to yours; a smirk tugging on his perfect lips. "Just fist my dick and pretend it's your pussy... Mmm... I picture you bouncing on top of me."

"That sounds pretty nice," you whisper, dipping your finger into the cake. You bring it up to your lips, sucking roughly, your eyes locked on his.

"Nothin’ compares to you.” His lips part as he watches you sink your finger into the cake again, returning it to your mouth. "I miss those lips around my dick, sweetheart..." He sighs, watching your fingers glide into your mouth. You smile wide, cheeks warming up. “And I get that feeling forever….”

“Forever.”

“I’m going to make you scream my name tonight, y/n. Is that what you want, baby?" He groans.

"O’course. Fuck... But, I'm going to suck your cock first.”

“Yeah-” He takes you into his arms, lips crashing with yours. Rafe moans into your mouth; his lips sugary sweet, matching yours. Your tongue slips between his lips as you roll your body teasing him with your hips. “Let’s take the cake,” you smile.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you want me to suck it off your cock?” You ask innocently.

"Fuck, baby. That’s exactly what I want. We held out long enough. Huh?" He teases you as he passes you the cake.

“Too long.”

You take it in one hand, the other hooked around his neck, forcing him close. You pant for air between hungry kisses, the both of you finally getting what you want; your sexual tension boiling over. Rafe pushes through the bedroom door, throwing it shut. He groans lowly, gripping your ass a little tighter before setting you down on your feet, taking the cake off your hands. The two of you kiss messily, tearing off articles of clothing until all that's left is skin and lace. Rafe pushes you back on the bed, mounting you fast, rolling his body into yours, making you release a desperate moan for more.

"Goddamn, princess…” He grunts, giving you a few more unsheathed thrusts. He grips your garter belt and panties, drawing them down slowly, peeling off your bra, rolling off your stockings one by one.

You wrap your hands around Rafe’s neck, the blonde quickly taking your cue, rolling you to straddle his lap. Your wet pussy presses against his stiff cock; his large hands clutching your hips, guiding you to grind on top. You reach your hand for the cake, running your manicured finger through the chocolate mousse filling, tracing a line from his neck to his broad, muscular chest. Your tongue follows the sweetness along his warm skin. Rafe watches you, caressing wherever he can reach as you sink lower on his big body.

Your fingers paint his skin dangerously close to his cock. "Mmm... baby. Please, baby. Ugh... I can't fucking wait," he whines. You clean up the mess with your tongue, your eyes focused on his half-lidded stare. You dip your finger into the cake again. Rafe’s smile widens, knowing what would come next. Holding his throbbing tip, you make a mess of his rock-hard skin, working slowly, teasing him with the thought of your lips around him fully.

"Shit..." He whispers as you taunt him, cleaning the sweetness off your fingers, slipping each one in your mouth until all that remains is your ring finger. Rafe grabs your hand fast, drawing it to his lips, sucking your finger up to the diamond. "Mrs. Cameron…"

"Mr. Cameron?" You answer playfully.

"Suck my fuckin’ cock, baby," he demands; his voice, the perfect amount of darkness, sending chills down your spine. You lower yourself, flattening your tongue as you work up his dick. Rafe’s head sinks into the pillow, a loud moan escapes his lips, and you taste his salty precum mixed with the sugary sweetness of the cake. You wrap your fingers around his thick base, taking him into your mouth, sucking his dick.

"Ugh... princess. Shit," he praises. Rafe lifts his head off the pillow, watching as you take him to the back of your throat. His fingers weave into your hair, pulling slightly. You whine on his cock. Rafe’s muscles stiffen underneath you. "So damn good at sucking cock," he pants. "Fuck... That mouth is mine, princess. Gonna cum down that pretty throat of yours.”

You twist your hands as you suck, the man’s eyes shutting softly, his brows knitting tight. "Mmm... I can't wait to fuck you, y/n. Shit... I'm going to fuck you so hard." Rafe mumbles as he spills into you throat, pressing your head against him. "Fuck," he pules, his broad chest rising and falling fast as he reaches for air. Rafe shudders out an overstimulated breath as you continue to suck, not wanting to miss a drop. He twists his fingers in your hair, using his grip to lift you off his cock, leading you to his lips, rolling you over quick enough to make you gasp.

"Mmm..." Rafe hums, his eyes falling down your frame underneath him. Your fingers run over the indentations of his abs to his chest. He wraps his hands around your wrists, grabbing them and pinning them against the plush mattress.

"You look so damn good," you breathe.

"Fuck, you look better, baby. I wish you could see yourself,” he lauds. "My turn." Rafe reaches over, dirtying his finger with the cake before sliding it along your bottom lip, just like you did, kissing you roughly. He sucks your bottom lip, drawing the sweetness to his. His lips work from your cheek to your jaw, lowering to your collarbone, licking a line across it.

Dipping his fingers in the frosting, he returns them to your skin, circling them around your nipples, watching them harden under his touch. Rafe takes your stiff peaks in his mouth, swirling and flicking, cleaning you up with his tongue. You toss your head back into the cloud of pillows below you. "Mmm... I fucking love you," you whimper.

"I love you too," he mumbles against your body as he works lower and lower, hooking his strong arms around your thighs, pulling you right where he wants you. Rafe returns his fingers to the cake, plunging them in, running the mess on the crook of your thighs, making your pussy ache for him.

"Rafe, please. Baby, please," you beg.

"Damn, I've missed that,” he smirks. Rafe licks and sucks your skin as you weave your fingers through his hair.

He lowers his face to your warmth, licking a stripe up your cunt. You buck your hips, Rafe quickly taking control, pressing you down. “Where are you goin’. Huh?” He bullies; his tongue quickly sliding into your entrance. You let out a raspy whine as he darts his tongue in and out, drowning himself in your drenched slick. "Fuck you taste so damn good, princess," he drawls. "The prettiest fucking thing I've ever seen," he hums, the vibrations causing your back to arch off the bed.

His lips meet your clit, sucking suddenly, pushing in one finger, then another as his tongue assaults your clit. Rafe curls his digits slightly, nailing your sweet spot with each brush of his hand. The knot in your stomach, tightens. "Just like that," you pant. Your heart rate increases as you draw your thighs in, squeezing Rafe's shoulder. "Fuck, right there. "O-Oh, Rafe... Shit." You look between your legs, watching your thighs tremble uncontrollably, your fiance devouring your drenched cunt like a man.

"Be a good girl and cum for me, sweetheart.”

Your eyes roll back at the sound of his voice; orgasm claiming you. Rafe doesn't stop, increasing the pressure as you release a fucked-out cry, making a mess of his fingers as you flutter around them. "Holy shit," you pant as you rest your hands on your dewy chest, skin glistening as Rafe looks back at you pussy-drunk.

“Ride me, baby?” He asks starry-eyed, chin wet with your arousal. He rolls to his back, pulling you on top. You grasp Rafe's cock, guiding him to your entrance. Running his head through your climax. He shakes his head at you awe, smiling, taking a rough grip on your hips. You swirl him around your soaked hole, thighs trembling, mouth falling open as his thick dick stretches you out.

Your legs widen on the bed; Rafe pressing your hips further, causing you to sink as low as you can ‘til his biceps flex from strain. He loosens his grip on your hips, allowing you to take control, still maintaining contact. You work in slow rhythmic movements, swiveling and screwing your hips into him. Grabbing his wrists, you draw his hands up your body slowly, stopping at your breasts. He takes them in his hands, squeezing and pressing them together. Rafe pinches and rolls your nipples between his fingers, making you moan in bliss. You lean back slightly, resting your hands on his thighs as you ride.

"Holy shit, baby," he breathes.

"Does this feel good, daddy?" You whimper.

"So fucking good." You start to bounce up and down on his dick, slipping your hands into your hair. Rafe slinks his hands around to your ass, squeezing it, watching your breasts bounce. "So good at riding my dick, baby. Shittt…” His eyes darken, taking in every inch of your body. Rafe follows your fingers as you bring your hand to your clit, working in side-to-side motions, feeling your pleasure about to consume you.

"Rafe, I'm going to cum," you cry. He smiles devilishly, throwing his hips up into you as you hover over him. "Fuck," you wail as your orgasm burns through your body.

“Atta baby. Fuck you’re perfect. Co’mere,” he grunts, not giving you time to recover, manhandling you to your hands and knees. Rafe grips your hip roughly with one hand and uses the other to bend you over; your palms resting on the bed. Your thighs shiver, feeling the aftershocks of your first two orgasms. Physically winded, but never more satisfied as you wait for more. He takes himself in his hand, gliding up and down before stuffing himself inside, filling you to the brim. Rafe takes your hips in his hands, thrusting roughly, kneading your ass between strokes. You arch your back and prop yourself on your elbows, looking back at him. His eyes roll back, seeing you this way.

Rafe tightens his grip on your hips, picking up the pace and throwing his body into you. The sound of your skin slapping fills the room. You look up at the headboard, swaying with each thrust. Your bum claps against his toned body, the fullness of your ass recoiling with each thrust. You take control, throwing it back into him fucking yourself on his cock. He grips and slaps your curves as you move. Your pleasure starts to build again. "Are you going to cum, princess?" Rafe asks breathlessly.

"Mhmm" you moan, barely able to press out the sound. You sink your face deep into the pillow, Rafe's name muffled into the fabric again and again. Your orgasm courses through your body, rocking you to your core as he continues to rut into you, rapid thrusts as you tighten around his cock.

“Fuckkk,” he drags out the words and crashes into you one last time, the warmth of his climax filling you. You feel his muscles tense, the man groaning in pleasure, emptying himself deep. His cock throbs inside you as his large, rough hands circle your ass. You whimper as he pulls out, Rafe pushing you to your back. He spreads your thighs, watching his pearly white cum drip out of you. He grabs his cock in his fist, catching the mess with his fat tip before pressing himself back in. He grinds into you slow and deep, allowing you to feel every inch. You let out a satisfied sigh as he lowers himself to your lips, cockwarming you as his tongue reels with yours, sweetness still hanging on as you both bask in the after-glow.

"I love you, princess," he whispers against your kiss.

"Mmm... and I love you, Rafe Cameron."

tag list and masterlist on my pinned post @starkeysprincess @rafesthroatbaby @gri959 @loserboysandlithium @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @akobx @darlydixon83 @hyperfixationgirl @savayvayblr-blog @oxpogues4lifexo @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

“Give it to me, baby. C’mon,” JJ MAYBANK gestures to you, beckoning you with his sets of fingers flicking towards him as you gun right for him. He stoops, ripe to catch you, strapping his forearms under your thighs as he growls in approval with his teeth sunk low into the skin past his lips. You sling your arms around his neck, bumping the bill of his backwards-cap, so you fix it for him with a giddy lovesick grin.

“Jayj,” you sing, folding your legs around his hips coyly. The alcohol has reached your head, all woozy as you lull back. Preemptively, JJ arches away, counteracting your weight with his to rebalance you and bring you back to him. A tinge of hot color dusts your cheeks from the tipsy intoxication.

“How’re we feelin’, babycakes? You look a little out of it.” he asks but you know he doesn’t care about the answer, he just wants to point out how cute you look when you’ve been drinking. In your little stringy bikini, you let him grab onto your ass as he walks with you in hand. With every step, you jostle limply, breaking eye contact to pick yourself up again. Aware of your drunken state, you grin in spite of yourself, and it curls his lips too. There’s a mischievous gleam in his eyes when you meet his gaze again after you take a while to answer. “There’s my girl.”

“M’feelin’ al-right.” you reply with a committed nod, mustering up an endearingly determined expression as you draw closer to him. Sweetly, he pecks your unresponsive lips, kissing your wet teeth a bit and pulling back a string of saliva between you two that breaks. Instinctively, you chase his mouth, and murmur: “Bored.”

“‘Bored’?” he parrots, playfully incredulous, as if his princess could dare be bored. “You’re bored, huh? Well, that just won’t fly.” He shows you he’s about to drop you with a little double pat to your ass cheek, and you brace yourself for it, landing on your feet and adjusting the straps of your swim suit. “Want another beer? I’ll make it special for you.” His way of making beer from a keg in a red solo cup special is to blow a little kiss on it before he hands it to you. But you’re not interested in that right now.

This beach-side bonfire party had gotten to your head, and now you’re looking for a change of pace, so you grab onto two of his fingers to lead him away. As you walk in front of him, swaying your hips, he gets a glance at your backside stuffed into that teeny bikini bottom and he moans through his nose, head lulling back. He straightens, rolling his tongue between his lips, eyes glued to the way that ass moves when you take a step. “You look fuckin’ good, baby.” He gives you a sharper smack this time, one that makes you face him to hit him scoldingly with a scoff. As if he didn’t just swat you, he holds his arms up in feigned bewildered surrender, mouth gaping in obtuse shock. When the novelty wears off, he drops the act and steps to you. You press your hand to his chest to ward him off, but he checks you out, “You feelin’ slutty?” his low voice isn’t low enough, and you consider shoving him for saying something like that amongst all these people.

Indignantly, your jaw hangs, blinking at him in disbelief as he flashes you a raise of his brows. You concede with a roll of your eyes and a huff, snatching back his hand in which he leisurely follows you by. He knows where he’s going, what you’re about to beg him for. Find your car and finger blast you in the passenger seat until you’re ready to rejoin the party like nothing happened. Maybe if he’s lucky you’ll wanna sit on his cock a bit, play a little game of just-the-tip which always ends in you getting plowed. Warily, he glances over his shoulder to gauge any prying eyes as he lets you lead him away.

[14dayswithyou]

Meowdy Saint! ^^ What sort of havoc does Teo get into? Like besides smashing taillights.... aka... what am I going to see when Im stalking checking up on him?

✦゜ANSWERED: He's quite literally tied up in your closet right now...... I fear he's not doing much!! /silly

"Teo, I don't think this is legal..."

"Aw, don't get your panties in a twist, doll." Ignoring your words, Teo easily hoists himself over the chainlink fence and throws a casual look in your direction. "You're the one who said it was getting stuffy in the nightclub. Didn't you want to cool down?"

You glance between Teo and the empty public pool on the other side of the fence. "...I did. But this wasn't what I had in mind."

"No, but it's what I had in mind." Rolling his eyes at your hesitancy towards being rebellious, Teo throws a leg back over the fence once more and jumps off. He lands in his previous spot in the dirt with a grunt and offers you a hand. "C'mere. I'll help you over."

It takes one very large, noticeable moment before your feet start to move. Hesitancy is still thick in the air — and even in the forefront of your mind — but you somehow find it hard to say no to Teo when he's giving you those soft eyes and trademark smirk.

"C'mon. It'll be fine."

"We'll get in trouble." You manage to breathe out before you feel a pair of muscular arms around your waist. There's no time for you to react as Teo wordlessly hoists you over the fence and sits you atop the large steel bar that holds everything in place — before hoisting himself over as well.

However, he doesn't seem to wait for you to join him as the taller male takes a few steps toward the pool to suss everything out. And with a satisfied nod, he finally turns back to face you once more.

"We'll get in trouble?" With a scoff, he crosses his arms over his broad chest — making a point to flex his muscles and cock out his hip. "By who? That broken diving board?"

With an eye roll, you push yourself from the fence and jump down. "I don't know, but the... authorities... or something!"

"Don't see anyone around. Just you and me here, doll."

"W-Well... What about the cameras?" Even with nothing but the moonlight to illuminate your surroundings, you can still make out the shape of something circular in the corner of the main building.

"Oh, yeah. Forgot about those." Teo drawls as he begins to tug off his shirt. "Then we should probably give that lucky security guard a show, huh."

"Are you serious?!" You purposefully look away once he starts to remove his belt buckle. Suddenly, the questionable stain on the concrete was far more interesting than your half-naked companion. "No way!"

The sounds of something metallic hitting the floor ring in your ears before more rustling follows... Until the obnoxious sounds of water splashing everywhere drown out Teo's laughter and the rapid beating of your heart.

"Aw, you feelin' shy?" Teo's teasing lilt can be heard from somewhere within the pool as you fight the urge to look in his direction. "Gonna cry? At least let me see it."

At that, you whip your head and send him a sharp glare. It's your turn now to cross your arms over your chest, but Teo doesn't seem to acknowledge it with the way he dives back into the water and sloshes around without a care in the world.

Admittedly, it did look like he was having fun — and the droplets from all his splashing did feel nice against your bare skin.

But when your silence finally kicks in and makes itself known towards the dark-haired man, he turns to you with a serious expression and ceases his antics.

"If you really don't wanna be here, then I'll drive you home." Teo mentions offhandedly, "But the water's nice 'n cool. You're honestly missing out, dollface."

Not that you'd ever admit it out loud, but Teo did look all sorts of breathtaking as he casually waded through the water. His wet, tanned skin was glistening underneath the moonlight, and it was one of the rare occasions where he'd slick his hair back to give you the perfect view of his grey eyes — which seemed to be staring back at you with an intimate gleam to them.

Choking out a stutter, you try your best to brush it off by perching yourself on the ledge and dipping your feet into the pool.

"People have probably peed in here, y'know." You kick a bit of water in your companion's direction, but he easily brushes it off and splashes you back with his hand. You don't miss the way Teo fully turns his towards you, nor how he seems to be slowly inching his way closer to your spot by the edge of the pool.

"We can do something more indecent in here if you're up for it."

"Teo!" Your voice raises a few octaves, though you don't show any other signs of protest. "Don't you have your own pool, anyway?"

"Aw, where's the fun in that? Don't you wanna experience a new kind of thrill every once in a while?"

"..."

You despised the fact that he was right. Perhaps one of the main reasons you often found yourself drawn to Teo was because of how much excitement he brought into your life. Sometimes, it was nice to break the cycle of monotony... And Teo just so happened to be one of the very few people who could do that for you.

With a resigned sigh, you glance back at Teo and move to take off your shirt.

"See? Knew there was a reason I kept you around." He gives you a genuine smile this time, but you were too preoccupied with discarding your clothing somewhere safe to notice it. "This is why you're more fun than the others."

Teo swims closer to your side now — close enough to rest against the ledge and cage your thighs with his muscular arms. And had you chosen to look down at him, you would've noticed the soft look in his eyes and the faint blush on his cheeks.

"...Thanks for indulging me all the time."

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: You hurt yourself with Tangerine's brass knuckles.

Prompt: grumpy x sunshine - "I told you not to touch that, now look what you've done!"

~ here you go @whimsical-roasting! hope you like this!! thank you for requesting 💖 ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

Tangerine had told you a thousand times not to touch his brass knuckles. He didn't want you using them and hurting yourself because he knows you don't know how to use them correctly.

However, especially three wine glasses in, you never did listen to him on important matters.

You're sitting in your living room fiddling with the brass knuckles Tangerine had been showing you as he left for a refill on the wine you'd been comfortably sharing.

You throw some air punches, scrunching your face as best as you like you've seen your boyfriend do when he's training, and on rarer occasions when he's fighting.

It's fun. Very fun. Or it is until you get the marvelous idea to try and punch solid things. 

You start lightly, punching the cushions. Then you move to harder surfaces until, for some stupid reason, you decide to see how hard you can punch the wall. 

Horrible idea considering you dent the drywall and your wrist bends awkwardly, the brass knuckles digging into your skin.

You shriek and pull your hand away, the knuckles feeling weirdly stuck onto your hand now as the pain becomes unbearable. Tears pool in your eyes and you stand up just as Tangerine walks into the room again.

"Darlin'?"

"Tan–" you wail and rush to him, cradling your wrist as you stumble over in your slippers and hold out your arm to him. Silent tears are falling down your cheeks as the pain worsens.

Tangerine's eyes widen and he rushes forward to you, carefully lifting your arm. His eyes narrow when he sees his brass knuckles on your hand and how weirdly bent your hand looks. 

"You absolute git," he hisses and uses his other hand to pet your hair, "I told you not to touch that, now look what you've done," he says and kisses your forehead, his heart breaking at the sight of your tears.

"How badly does it hurt, my luv?"

"Very badly," you can barely speak and Tangerine knows it's worse than it looks. So, he calls an ambulance because he doesn't trust himself to drive you after three glasses of wine and with you in this state.

He tries his best to be calm and make up an excuse to the poor paramedics why you'd almost broken your hand, his illegal brass knuckles safely in his locked drawer again.

He should have never shown them to you. He feels irresponsible. 

Tangerine angry at you, but mostly at himself because you're too good. You're an angel who shouldn't have even been exposed to such a weapon and that's on him. He sits in the chair in the doctor's room, watching the doctor bandage your hand and tell you you're lucky it's only sprained and not broken.

They've given you some pain medication and when the doctor steps out for a moment, you look over at your very guilty-looking boyfriend. 

"I'm sorry," you start.

"I shouldn't have left them alone with you," he interrupts in a whisper. 

You shake your head pointedly. "No. I'm not a child. I should have known better and listened to you. I was just curious."

Tangerine chuckles and runs a hand over his face. "I know ya were and that's why I should have been more careful. Should have been paying closer attention to my girl, hm?" he stands and walks closer, holding your cheek in his hand as he smiles. "Feelin' better now?"

You nod and some of your cheek returns because you ask. "Teach me how to use them next time?"

Hearing your quip, Tangerine raises an eyebrow and makes a tsk sound with his lips, shaking his head. "You're really gonna be the death of me, aren't ya?"

Your little laugh gives him all the answers he needs and he smirks, feigning annoyance when really he adores you.

tags: @tansgirlfriend, @brokeaesthetic, @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @longlivedelusion