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tremendum · 4 months

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Setting the Mood ; Mr. Miller vii

[not my gif] pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, some use of she/her, use of the words girl/woman) rating: explicit. [18+. mdni] word count: 10k summary: ❝Joel's warming up to you in the way that feral cats warm up to a box with blankets in winter - cautiously, with a rigid spine and many false alarms.❞ warnings: power outage, one mention of cobwebs lol, smut - oral (f!receiving), nipple play, teasing, overstimulation, anal fingering (brief sorry), face sitting, pussy slapping!!!, tit slapping (once), begging, choking (light), fingering, rough sex, praise, dacryphilia, degradation, threats of using sex toys, Joel is less mean than normal, pussy drunk Joel!, squirting, brief mentions of guns/canon typical trauma and violence. also fairly fluffy. emotionally constipated joel and reader <3 notes: thank u all for ur patience & here's the next part! and Joel is a MUNCHHH in this one lol. special thanks to the anon who recently sent me such kind words about this series, as well as the other anon who gave me the inspiration & all the suggestions for this fic!!! this one's for u guys <3 [this is part seven of the Mr. Miller series.] [masterlist]

[important - this is the last fic that will be using my taglist. moving on, I've made a notifs blog - @tremendumnotifs - for ppl to follow for notifications. tysm!!] ★

"'s gettin' dark out there." Joel broods, eyebrow furrowed as he stares out the window into the dreary wink of evening, a dark gray clouding the sky as sheets of rain slam onto the pavement and pelt onto the gardens lining the block. "stormy."

you can't help but quirk your brow as you take in his worried form, the way he peels back the curtains like a wartime wife awaiting a letter or a figure appearing in the driveway. you have to fight back a laugh, instead putting on a straight face as you lean towards him, capturing his gaze.

"she's handled worse." is all you say, giving him a shrug - one that's met with a glare. "I know." he retorts, voice soured; a clench of a jaw before he turns back out, brooding, sighing, gritting his teeth. okay then.

you shift yourself, plopping heavily onto the couch - you're still not used to being in this house, even in its simple glory. Joel's boots, muddy by the door, Ellie's drawings littering the walls like little trophies Joel silently boasts about - none of them have frames, though you decide in a better world, they probably would. empty mugs of half-drank coffee on the counter next to the sink, a discarded hand knife on the dining table.

it's almost a complete mirror of your current house - with a tickling thrill, you'd realized this faintly the first time Joel'd thrown you onto the ground in his foyer months ago. he's since grown gentler with the way he handles you, at least, when he wants to.

even now - his tolerance, vastly expansive compared to months ago when a breath in his direction would cause a snarl within a second. now, he even initiates conversations - not often, but enough for you to feel like, at some point, things did change with him. Joel's warming up to you in the way that feral cats warm up to a box with blankets in winter - cautiously, with a rigid spine and many false alarms.

you don't particularly mind, either - Ellie and Dina have been helping you with the winter garden greenhouses a lot, and even Joel has stopped by on his way back from patrols to check in, lingering with glares or stares depending on his mood. he even came over to help you try and fix your porch steps leading to the backyard - free of charge, though you sent him home with some of the biscuits you'd made earlier that day.

you still get on each other's nerves - snide remarks, passes at the other's intelligence or capability. Joel criticizes you nearly every chance he gets, but you've come to decide it's a defense mechanism and not entirely in his full control. you, similarly, tease him every moment you can for his dramatics, but suddenly clam up and scamper away at any semblance of feelings or emotion. he always lets you come back though, without any mention of it.

"are you seriously worried about her?" you ask, sighing gently. you see the uptick in his brow when he looks at you, but you quickly follow up - "because we can go find her." you add, softer.

his jaw loosens slightly and he sighs heavy. "no, 's fine. I know she's at Dina's. just bein' dramatic."

you shoot him a look with your brows raised - no shit, Joel - but the withering look he gives you shuts your trap before you can go and run your mouth.

so you let him relax in his own way - pacing in near silence for several minutes before he stops, makes an internal decision to pour you and him each a finger of some amber whisky, and then drains it all in one go. you opt to sip yours.

the wind is what has you in a disturbed state - it howls louder in the basin of this valley than it ever has before in your life; screaming down the streets, blowing through the rush of firs that line the outskirts of downtown. and now, it uses its immense force to slam weeping drops of precipitation into the gardens hard enough to form bits of cold hail - a threat which, had it not been twenty years into the end of humanity, would likely still put gardeners to their beds with a curse to Demeter.

but now, circumstances are a bit more dire. losing crops, especially at this time of year, could be fatal.

"y'done with that?" his voice pulls you from your thoughts, looking up to see him standing above where you perch on the couch, gesturing to the towel in your lap. you blink, nodding, "-oh. yes, I am, thanks."

you use one last handful to scrunch up your wet hair, handing him the towel expectantly - but he stays rooted just in front of you, eyes staring unblinkingly at you. a sense of warmth floods through you, starting in your face and spreading over your chest and abdomen. his eyes are softer than they usually are; you lift a brow, his dark gaze unmoving. "something on my face, Miller?" you ask, lifting a brow. it's snappy - you don't necessarily intend it to be, but you can never tell with him.

he blinks, grabbing the towel from your hands which he'd provided for you when you'd arrived, sending you a grave look. "don't you start with me." he snaps back, turning to walk off towards the laundry room. the room, you think with foolish butterflies, where your jacket hangs up with its orange, janky stitching over the right side to dry. in some ways, a mark of Joel Miller. you smile down to yourself, staring at the spot he'd just stood.

you swallow your thoughts. you were here for a reason - not to get distracted, but to make a cake for Ellie. Joel had asked you a few days ago to help him bake a cake - for no apparent reason, you don't think her birthday is anytime soon - you'd agreed because, aside from the fact that there's little you wouldn't do for the girl, you haven't baked one in a long time and the lavender you'd grown last summer and dried is begging to be used in a cake batter.

"we need to get started soon!" you call out, shifting slightly to try and find his concealed body somewhere in the house. a faint call of his gruff voice responds to you, but you can barely hear through the onslaught of rain outside; suddenly, and with a careless flicker, the lights all shut off.

the whirring of heating stops, too, until everything is dark and silent.

you stare with shock, blinking in the dark - the house is silhouetted by the darkening sky, plagued already by thunderclouds. fuck.

"Joel?" you call out, rising on your feet to find him - you remember him mentioning in one of the first rounds of patrol with him - before anything, back when he really was just Tommy's brother - that he'd been some sort of handyman pre-apocalypse and so how the fuck has he just tripped the fusebox-

you feel him before you see him, unfortunately.

Joel, for all the time you've spent intimately knowing what his body feels like, shocks you every time by his sheer strength, the size of his shoulders and the broadness of his chest - especially when you slam into him in the dark.

"fuck," you both chorus at the same time, you stumbling back and him likely rubbing his shoulder. you groan as you hit a thumbtack stuck in the wall with your head, rubbing the spot sorely in the dark.

"the power's out." he states, irritation laced through his words. you roll your eyes, knowing it's unlikely he'll even see them in this light anyways.

"hadn't noticed."

your voice is flat and the silence that follows turns your face hot, taking a breath as you rock on your heels. "well I didn't do it." he states obviously, causing your brow to lift slightly until you look out to see through the muggy windows against the downpour that the whole block is out of power. damn weather.

"found a flashlight." he clicks it on, the light faint and dying as he brushes a few cobwebs from his hand - you realize the flashlight must have been from before the outbreak, with the original owners. but then the light is illuminating in your face; your eyes squint and you bat it away from you with a hiss, glaring at the man in front of you.

"what are you, a vampire?" he's holding in a laugh, you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, "you tried to blind me, that was a perfectly acceptable reaction. besides, I'm sure the batteries in that thing are a second away from corroding. don't put that near me."

he sighs, setting it beside him on some half-wall and you cross your arms. "suppose a guy like you probably doesn't have many candles, do you?" you ask, rocking on the balls of your feet - you really don't wish to spend the evening alone in your freezing house - nor in one that is completely dark.

"do I seem like I'd have any candles?" he asks, equally as exasperated as you. you let out a frustrated groan, leaning against a wall and jumping when you poke your hip into a table you hadn't expected to be there. you ruminate for less than a second before perking up, gasping in a sharp way that has his hand finding your elbow in alarm.

you ignore the flip of your heart at the gesture, tilting your head instead. "I have some. at mine." you say, shifting on your feet. it looks borderline dangerous to go outside right now - as you look out, it must occur to Joel that he's still holding your elbow because he jerks as if to remove it, but instead slides his hand up to hold your shoulder. it makes your heart skip a beat and you scarcely move a muscle.

Joel huffs a long-suffered sigh, before nodding. "let me get my boots."

getting to your house was less of a disaster than it should have been; Joel had the foresight to stuff a change of clothing into a bag after a brief argument about him not owning any umbrellas ('you don't have a fucking umbrella?' 'well pardon me for not havin' a Wal-Mart to stock up at during a fucking apocalypse.') and had held the lid of a trash bin above your heads as you ran, avoiding as much pelting hail as possible, to your front porch. you knew he was irritated - with the weather, with the fact that Ellie wasn't home, maybe even that you didn't get to make the cake - enough so that he wouldn't even make eye contact with you as you fumbled, fingers frozen and wet, for your key.

to your embarrassment, it's too stuck in the keyhole and your door wouldn't budge. it'd grown sticky and misshapen after the heat and sudden cold of winter, the frame wholly unfit to keep a functioning front door on its hinges.

"for god's sakes, give me them." he snapped, pushing into the frame and snatching the keychain from you, tinkering until he was able to slam into the doorframe with a grunt and burst it open.

"we needa fix that." he observes, ridding himself of his boots as you slink into the dark house after him, your face hot at his automatic assumption that he would help you fix your doorframe. he hadn't been particularly happy about fixing the steps for you, but he'd done it without being asked.

once you're rid of your wet coat and boots, you grab Joel's arm in the cold, dark space of your entry way and start to lead the two of you rather quickly up to your bathroom. "where the hell do you keep these things?" he grumbles until you've fumbles your way into the master bath, feeling around in the dark under the cabinets and avoiding stray screws sticking out near the drainpipes; it occurs to you that perhaps you should saw them off. maybe you could bribe Joel into doing it for you when he comes round to fix the doorframe.

seconds later you spin, holding up thick candles triumphantly, smirking as you shove three of them into his surprised arms. the lighting in your house is interrupted by the flash of lightning, flickering brightness over the dark porcelain tiles. "good thing we like to share, right Miller?" you smirk, grabbing the rest of the candles, eyeing the Epsom salt in a mason jar in the fading light, mentally noting to use that next time you take a bath.

he grunts at your words and you grin, shrugging. "what's mine is yours, right?" you ask sweetly.

he gives you a look as you make your way to the main bedroom to grope around for a lighter or matches - you can feel his irritation starting to wane away, slowly trickling like the beginning of a stream. "when did I ever say somethin' like that?"

you shrug with one shoulder, sending him a dark grin, "well you sure must've thought it that night when you invited yourself in to my bathroom."

it's quiet aside from the storm - your stomach broils in anticipation, heat and some kind of arousal tickling at your guts. there's nothing you love more than irritating him.

you tilt your head, desperately wanting to add more, but not in the particular mood to start a real fight.

Joel, at your words, doesn't get mad - instead he just stares on at you, much too silent, brooding.

his eyes swirl seductively, as if reliving that night in his head. you sure are - his stare, the way his eyes had trailed over your body, the soap slipping over your pert tits and just begging him to join you. in your mind, you leave out the blood and the wound from your stomach, the yelling from Joel and... well, everything that happened after that.

his eyes trail over your body, getting stuck on the curves of your hips and breasts, before meeting you again. when he opens his mouth, the words are not what you'd expected.

"this is too many candles for one woman to have in her bathroom." he grunts, shooting you a stern look that seems nearly sinister in the dark moonlight. the rain pours relentlessly on the roof and onto the windows, streaks in the reflection sliding down his broad chest.

bending over to reach the matchbook on your dresser, you toss him a little grin, "never said they were just for me. believe it or not, I tend to enjoy setting the mood."

his brows raise, setting the candles on the surfaces around him - two on the nightstand, one on the bench at the foot of the bed. you light each of them gently.

"set the mood." his voice is flat, twinging slightly with a hard jealousy that nearly has you floating.

"that's right." you nod, lighting the candles with a gentle smirk. he hums, crossing his arms as you cross to his side, lighting the candles and avoiding his eyes, suddenly very aware of the central piece of furniture in the room - your bed - and the lack of any chairs or couches.

"did you bring a lotta men into this room t'set the mood?" he asks suddenly, sending a wave of arousal through you. you hide your smirk as you turn back to him, illuminated by the flicker of candlelight. the implication of his words - did you - like he knows that you're only sleeping with him now. that he likes it that way.

you nod, "only the nice ones." your voice is nearly a purr; his eyes are dark pools, widening in the abyss of desire that threatens to swallow you both whole. his hands find purchase on your hips as you tilt your head.

"Ian?" he counters - both of you know the answer - but you don't mind leaning in to that curling, angry monster of jealousy that hides itself as indifference.

"maybe." you retort, leaning closer to him, tilting your head to keep eye contact. "it's always so much better when it seems romantic. they're not as selfish. less rough-" you see his eyes flicker when your hand coming to trail over his broad chest. "let me cum as much as I want."

of course, this was a fib. there were scarce numbers of people you let into your bed as is - even fewer who ever made you cum at all. Joel surely knows this - but his hands tighten around you all the same. "s'that right?" he asks, head tilting down to stare deep into you. you swallow, nodding with a grin. "it was much more civilized. and they weren't afraid to ask me to drinks or to come have dinner."

his smirk drops and, for a moment, a pang of guilt hits you; you hadn't meant to bring that up, in fact the prospect of going on a date with Joel scares you more than most things in the world - but he moves on quite quick.

"how many times?" he says instead, cutting off your spiraling thoughts. your confusion must show on your visage; Joel tilts his head, staring at you sternly, expectantly. "how many times did he make you cum?"

you blink, trying your best to continue your little white lie, but instead, your voice shakes out, "th-three." you admit. the smirk that curls under his stubble sends a flicker of dread through your gut - he's seeing straight through you.

you've cum three times with only one man - he's standing right in front of you, and he certainly knows it.

but he likes to play the game. so he nods, "okay, baby. three. I can beat three." he says simply, thumbs starting to rub slow circles into the skin exposed above your waistband. your cheeks heat, "wh-what?" you ask dumbly, watching the twitch of a grin that flickers across his skin in the dewy glow of the candlelight.

he shrugs, "been dreamin' about tasting that pretty little cunt all week."

your eyes widen - a hot coil of arousal swirls in your core as you stare up at him, wishing you'd swigged that whisky that lies over at Joel's in the dark like he had, if only for the courage.

because mutely, you've realized this is the first time anything has been initiated between you without an argument - and by Joel, nonetheless. he seems almost bashful when you look back at him.

"why'd you wait this long, then?" you ask, trying to sound coy but instead sounding very aroused, out of breath.

he lifts a coy brow. "waitin' for you to set the mood, I guess."

you stare at him for a moment.

his eyes flicker in some foreign kind of shyness, and then it occurs to you; you nearly burst out in laughter. "-was that a joke?"

your heart skips a beat when Joel lets out a small smile.

it's warm, syrupy - full of light. you nearly forget why you're laughing. "maybe. don't matter."

he seems so soft, so shy - as if embarrassed that he's admitting how bad he's wanted you all week. like you haven't been the same way.

but you can't seem to let it go - "a joke, from crabby old Mr. Miller?"

but you knew it'd come, using his name like that.

his hand is strong when he grabs your jaw, gentle but stern, and fighting his own smile - the smile lines around his eyes glowing and beautiful. you wish you got to see them more.

"doll, I thought we've talked about bein' respectful." he lifts a brow and you nod, swallowing your laughs quickly as his hand squeezes on your cheeks. "now, we've made it look real nice in here, haven't we?"

you take a moment before realizing he's waiting for an answer - you stand taller, nodding, "yes, sir." you agree, fighting the growing heat within you.

he nods, "'s right. so I'll treat you real nice, just like the boys you talk about." he sneers, weakening your knees. he moves you both slowly toward the mattress, tilting his head, "do you want that?"

does he even have to ask?

"yes, please, I want it." you agree, the desire to have him between your thighs growing unbearable. "we need'ya to come three times. you're going to count for me, aren't you?"

you wish more than anything you could defy such saccharine, sweet condescension from the man in front of you - but you've always been weak for him and his cruel mouth. you nod, staring up at his dark eyes, letting him push you onto the mattress gently. you faintly wish you'd taken the time to make your bead neatly this morning - but the thought is pulled from you as you note Joel's sudden hesitation. you tilt your head, about to ask if he's okay, when he abruptly speaks.

"you're so fuckin' pretty, darlin'." he says suddenly, looking at you with that exact stare from earlier on his couch; your heart flips as you stare up at him, swallowing. his hands come to your shoulders, moving until he's standing flush against the edge of the mattress, your thighs spread open for him to caress your neck gently. your heart pounds at the stark honesty of his words.

"beautiful." he whispers, feather-light touches over your neck, your chest shuddering and breaths short, staring in silence. "d'you know that?"

he's being uncharacteristically soft, and an inkling in your mind wonders if it's all a show - never would Joel Miller willingly be kind in such a manner. so giving, so... loving.

that panic that often finds you in the more tender moments flares up. you swallow thickly, "are you gonna get to it, or just stand there and stare at me?" you snap, the panic rising at his words.

his slow movements upon you stop, his eyes meeting yours sharply. something changes in him, a shift that is foreign and also familiar; as if snapping out of some trance and back into his original state.

"I'll do whatever the hell I want to." he snaps, "and you're gonna take it because I'm choosing to be nice to you." his voice is unforgiving - the cold tone with which you're used to. where you're safe, unafraid of what lies beneath tender caresses or words. "you hear me?"

you swallow down heat, a pool leaking into your panties - you're unsure if it's the way he was softly caressing you or the roughness of his words - probably both. "yes, Joel."

he lifts a brow, correcting you. "sir."

you swallow, nodding. "yes, sir." he leans over, kissing the crown of your head gently. "that's good. now I don't want to hear another fucking word out of you unless you're counting for me." he stares down out you, skin glowing under the scruff of his facial hair light up by the glow of the candles. he nods at your silence, a small smirk. "always liked you better when you're fucked so stupid you can't get a word out, anyways."

you don't dare speak, but you shoot him a withering glare, one that has him chuckling. "y'always act like such a brat, but you always end up doing what I tell you, don't you?"

you stare at him, your heartbeat in your throat, sat below him with your neck craned up. he raises his brows, hand coming to caress your jaw, "yeah, you do." he nods, "pussy can't get enough, huh?"

he's speaking in rhetorical, but you still want to slap him across the cheek.

you press your thighs closer but any kind of relief is prevented by his own legs as he stands between them. he leans forward, then, one hand pushing your jaw back until you're forced to look up to the ceiling; his other, snaking around your hips to thumb at the hem of your top.

his breath is hot as it hits your earlobe. "s'okay, I can't get enough of this pussy, either." he whispers, teeth nipping at your soft skin.

you sharply exhale as his hands tug on your top, releasing the looser buttons until it's held by only two of them, near your collarbones. he hums lowly, fingers rising to undo them himself. your skin is a wasteland of goosebumps, anxiously waiting for his touch.

he groans when you let the top slide off of you, your bare chest glowing alight by the candles. his eyes swallow you whole, amiring every part of you; your face burns warm, even as his hand trails one light finger down, over the swell of your left breast and brushing against your perked nipple.

"knew you weren't wearin' a bra." he grunts, his teeth scraping over your throat, "saw it the moment y'walked through my door. sat all pretty on my couch, teasin' me in this top." he growls, hands sliding over your shoulders to grope at your breasts.

you let out a sudden sigh - you hadn't noticed the baited breath that'd been held in your lungs the moment Joel'd pushed you onto the bed - you feel about to burst with need, your eyes pleading up at him. "sounds like you were just lookin' for it." you snap, eyes narrowing as you grow unwilling to play such games with Joel.

he wastes no precious moment; the smack is delivered light and playful to your right breast, stinging in pleasure as you gasp in a breath. his hand soothes over it even as he sneers in your face, leaning into your space, "did I tell you you could speak?"

you glare defiantly, "I thought we'd established by now that you always let me get what I want. you might even want it more than I do."

his hand finds its old home against your throat; holding you towards him, not restricting your airway but claiming you anyways. you feel another gush of arousal at the move, his eyes glaring into you. "oh, you'll get what you want, sweetheart." he says, voice holding no kindness, but an ominous amount of sincerity. "gonna be real nice to ya. all you're gonna do is sit here and look pretty. can you count to three?" he asks, voice rude. you glare back at him, "obviously."

he smirks, "we'll see."

and then he starts.

you aren't sure what you expected, but Joel wasn't lying when he said he was going to treat you nice. caresses over your skin, growing clammier by the minute- his clothes, still on and still wet from the downpour, sticking to his broad shoulders and expanse of his chest. his lips pepper over your neck, your jawline, teasing the corners of your mouth and releasing a cacophony of butterflies before dipping back down to your chest.

his hands are so large, gentle and intentional as they slide over the warmth of your skin. "pretty girl." he mutters, leaning so that one knee corners you, pushing you backwards until you're laying back on the mattress. you shutter a gasp as his thumbs and forefingers find your nipples, thumbing over them and sending currents of pleasure through you.

your whimpers and soft gasps are swallowed up by the sound of the storm against the roof, the cold house warming up by the second. he watches with lidded eyelids as his fingers twist your nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp of pain from you, pleasure blossoming through your body. you squirm, but he soon grows impatient, standing back and grabbing onto your ankles, tugging you towards the edge of the bed.

"keepin' all these slutty candles around, huh? how long you've been wanting to use these with me?" he asks gently, his fingers fumbling with your waistband. you help him, shoving them down your legs along with your panties, tossing them to his left.

"the candles aren't the ones that are slutty." you gasp as he pulls you closer to his hips, lifting you slightly of the mattress. his hard cock, separated from your yearning cunt by his denim, presses deliciously into you. he actually laughs at this; a shake of his head and a flutter of his eyelashes. "y'got that right."

he doesn't tease you like you'd expected - no, instead one finger circles your slit, gathering the sopping slick that leaks from you before gently sliding into your desperate heat.

you mewl loudly, eyes scrunching shut in pleasure. his finger is thick, warm; curling slightly as he slowly thrusts it into you. he hums lowly, one hand lowering you to the mattress then sliding up your skin to palm at your tits - they're stained with a few lovebites, brazen and still lined with excess of Joel's spit. it makes you shiver in pleasure. "that's it, baby." he growls lowly, "tight, real tight for me." sweat lines your brow as a low coil grows in your abdomen.

you nearly speak out of sheer habit several times, jolting when he hits your sweet spot repeatedly, hand flying to his hair and holding tight; he groans at that, deep and sweet. your eyes fall to his bulge and your hands move to palm him eagerly; he hisses in pleasure but the fingers not inside you catch your hands.

"not right now, sweetheart. not gon' be selfish, right? 's all about you."

when he adds a second finger, you're already squirming, regretting your doubt that he'd tease you. he's excruciatingly slow, gentle - his hand slides up to hold you by the throat, pushing you against your mattress as he starts to curl his fingers, thrusting harder.

you moan deeply as he finds your spot; your clit aches, neglected and throbbing, and your hand almost moves to relieve yourself before you second guess yourself and remain with your hands on his bicep.

you sigh, eyes rolling back as he fucks his fingers into you, wishing more than anything that his mouth was on you. or his cock in you.

his hand is a steady warmth against your throat and you know he can likely feel all the failed words and moans as they die out in your throat. he grins, fucking you steady with two fingers, "is there somethin' you wanna say, baby?" he asks, feigning genuine concern.

you groan out in frustration, that hot simmer growing as pleasure streaks through you. you glare at him, surely an amusing sight with the tears of frustration in your eyes. he tuts, pouting lightly. "c'mon, you can say it."

you swallow thickly at his permission, his hand peeling away from your throat momentarily to caress your jawline with his thumb. "use- use your mouth. please," you gasp, desperate as you move your hips against his fingers. he hums, "what, y'can't cum like this?" he asks, his fingers starting to pick up their pace. you grip his forearm and neck, gasping as your back arches from the mattress.

his fingers drag over your slick channels, the noise of your pleasure echoing as you nod, face crumpling in ecstasy. "fuck," you whimper, tugging on the nape of his neck.

he smiles, a dark thing in the dim light. "bet you can. let's see it, sweetheart."

you groan as the pad of his thumb finds your swollen clit; explosions of light appear behind your eyelids as he adds a third finger, his thumb rubbing circles around your sensitive bud.

his hand leaves your throat to press against your stomach; "y'feel that, darlin'?"

the pressure nearly pushes you over the edge, your thighs shaking as you grab for the bedsheets, hands leaving Joel in the shock of your nearing orgasm.

the noises echo in your ears as his pace picks up impressively; your knees shake as they start to close, your muscles seizing in pleasure. your whine is higher than normal as you squeeze around his fingers, white hot pleasure spreading.

you cum with your head tossed back, legs closing tightly as one of his hands tries to pry them open, fingers fucking you through your high.

you pulse, riding your high with stuttered breaths, fingers twisted into the sheets as he pumps his own into you languidly.

you remember wryly what Joel had asked of you, and you croak through a dry throat, "o-one."

you feel a huff of breath against your cheek before he hums. "that's good, baby." he murmurs, watching your cunt twitch, your arousal leaking out of you around his fingers.

you moan lowly as his fingers leave you, rising to his own lips to taste you; his eyes stay on yours as he palms himself lightly. you eagerly swallow, shifting your hips towards where he stands. yes, you need him in you-

he shakes his head at you as throws your legs away from him - you watch in shock as he starts to move. he pulls himself onto the mattress, laying upon your pillows, looking at you expectantly. "c'mere, baby." he mutters.

you blink at him, seeing his expression and slowly crawling to straddle him. your clit bumps against the denim of his crotch as you slowly rolls your hips over his, his straining cock delicious against you.

his hands find your hips and force your movements to halt with a strong grip. you stare at him, feeling embarrassed and confused, unsure what he wants.

he shoots you a look when you try to press yourself against him again, his fingers digging into your hips- "if y'think I'm fucking you tonight, you've clearly misunderstood."

your face must drain of blood as you stare at him, heartbeat pounding in your chest as you squirm. he moves down slightly, nodding upwards towards the top of your bedframe. "c'mere. and hold onto the edge if you can't handle it."

with a shaky breath and butterflies in your chest, you let him guide you upwards, until you're hovering over his face.

you let out a breath of desire, already throbbing in need; he stares up at you, "thought you needed my mouth on you?" he sneers. "play with your tits, baby, and ride my face." your fingers rise to your breasts, teasing your nipples gently as you whimper.

"now." he growls, hands pulling your hips down onto his face.

you gasp in shock, forehead and hands hitting the wall behind the bedframe as you jolt to stare at him. his tongue drives a fat lick through your soaked cunt, tasting your spend as your hips buck. your clit brushes against his nose- fuck, his nose; strong and slanted, beautiful as you press against it once again. pleasure shoots through you, curling your toes as you press against him.

all you can feel is Joel - your hands return to your breasts, if anything so that you have something to hold on to as ecstasy courses through you. his tongue circles your entrance lightly before sliding into you. you groan out, head falling back as you grind against his face; his groan reverberates in your cunt as a jolt of satisfaction causes your legs to weaken. "feels so good," you whimper, breathlessly; you don't even care that Joel told you not to speak, all you can think of is his tongue on you. the heat of your second crest starts to bubble over already; you let out a long moan.

you feel one of his thick fingers slide over the globe of you ass, gathering your slick before prodding gently at the tight ring of muscle below your cunt.

you gasp in shock, desire flooding you as need spurs you on, "fuck- please, sir, yes." you gasp, hoping the honorific will inspire him to give you what you really want.

he does. his finger breaches your hole slowly as you keen forward, gripping onto the headboard. he moans into your pussy as gushes of pleasure gather from the sensation and you whimper lowly, the feeling of his nose against your clit mixing deliciously as he slides his finger deeper into your ass.

if there's a better thing than having Joel's mouth on your cunt, it's that he can't speak like this; you start to move your hips, riding over his nose and fucking back onto his digit as he groans lowly.

"fuck- fuck." you groan, legs quivering, threatening to give out. he hums, leaning to chase your pussy as you move up, starting to move his finger inside your tight channel, his eyes staring up at you; you lock eyes as you thumb a nipple and your eyes roll back at the wide-blown pupils that meet you.

his hands, large and strong, pull you back against him, cementing you as he laps at your pussy, fucking his finger into you quicker and bringing you so close to your orgasm that you fall back slightly; your hand stabilizes yourself on his clothed chest; rolling your hips, the new angle sets your cunt into a wild frenzy of clenching, feeling incredibly close and chest stuttering as you near your high.

his finger leaves you suddenly as he pulls you towards him again - you barely have time to whimper at the loss of feeling before his tongue is flicking over your clit again, sending streaks of hot pleasure through you.

he's delving into you once again, his nose rubbing against you, your hips sliding over his face and finally pushing you over the edge.

your yelp of pleasure tails into a moan as you roll your hips, cumming on his face as you ride it out once again, legs shaking impossibly. you're muttering swears mixed in with his name as you ride out your second orgasm, shaking in desire.

"two," you whimper, sweat breaking on your forehead as one of his hands slides over your thigh, raking blunt nails over your skin. but he continues, your cunt sensitive as you jolt away from him as you catch your breath; you slide off of his chest to the mattress, your whole body tremoring with pleasure.

his face is flushed, chin glistening with your juices as he sits up, muttering, "don't you move."

you stop your movements, staring with hot cheeks and a swollen cunt as he turns, hands finding one of your pillows.

he leans forward to prop your head upon it; you gape at him in confusion, still pleased at the relief of strain in your neck but knowing you'll cum one more time before he's satisfied.

your body already yearns for it - you realize with a hot flash of arousal his intentions as he slinks backwards then, sliding to his knees.

your legs, despite yourself, spread for him. he smirks, "look at you, sweetheart, so willing for me."

you bite your lip, "just make me cum again," you say breathlessly, finding your strength again.

he raises his brows, "you sure you can handle it?" he asks, his palm sliding to cup your puffy cunt, the stimulation making you gasp. and then he slaps you, landing a harsh pressure on your clit that has you yelping, knees closing.

his other hand parts your legs, smacking you repeatedly until you yelp out, "yes!"

he stops his ministrations, instead rubbing your mess of juices all around you, causing you to sigh a gentle moan. he presses a kiss to your inner knee as he hums.

"I want eyes on me, sweetheart. can you do that?"

your eyes flick down to him as he settles between your quivering legs with a grin. a gentle kiss above your mound that has your eyes fluttering. "yes," you say breathlessly.

he rewards you with his lips against your cunt once again; it's immediately sending you over in stimulation, your legs tightening around his head before you gasp at the feeling, his tongue flattening over your swollen clit and plunging again into your entrance.

it's not long - your body is buzzing with electric desire, throbbing and jolting every time Joel's hands spread your legs open wider; your ankles curl and press into his back as his tongue alternates between flicking your clit and stroking as far into you as he can.

he's groaning into you, using his fingers to spread you further open for him; eating you out like it's his favorite meal. you're not sure if you'll stay conscious after your next high - you feel it creeping towards you and you whimper to Joel, starting to feel too sensitive.

"Joel- it's-" you whimper, pulling back and starting to crawl away on your hands, your legs tremoring with pleasure, moving up the mattress. he growls, hands grabbing you and pulling you back to him.

"not done with you yet." he murmurs, lips attaching back to your cunt. you buck your hips at the pleasure of overstimulation, hips moving away.

his hand grabs your ass, pulling you once again towards him, "stop fuckin' squirming. thought you wanted to get to three."

"I do," you whimper, gasping as his tongue traces around your pussy lips, tasting you and groaning into you. his face glistens with your juices and it's everything you can do to keep staring at him; he glares at you, "then don't complain."

his tongue licks a stripe up you again, swirling and sucking on your clit, and within moments you're nearing your high.

then suddenly everything - your fingers twist painfully as your body goes rigid, hitting your orgasm with a scream, your legs shutting around him and muscles spasming.

"that's right, sweetheart, ride it out." he mutters into you as you shutter, unable to form words but babbling his name incessantly as you push yourself up the mattress, away from the stimulation again as pain and pleasure swirl around your body.

fuck, you almost- you felt something different about that last one. he pulls himself until he's leaning over you, "think you're forgetting somethin'." he teases, his hands running up until they palm your tits.

you groan, hands shaking as they push against the mattress, the warmth of his body delicious. your eyes are fluttered shut, "two." you realize your miscalculation as it leaves your mouth -"n-no-" your eyes widen at your slip-up and you shake your head, embarrassed; your mind too consumed by Joel to fully function.

you wish he would just fuck you - his cock is unbelievably hard straining against his jeans and you urge to take him in any way you can. you'd let him have anything.

Joel sneers at you, amused by your flustered state. "d'they teach kids to count in these fuckin' FEDRA schools anymore?" he growls, slapping your pussy once more and making you yelp.

if you'd been paying more attention to his words, you'd have snarled that you learned how to count in public school, before the outbreak - and that he's a fucking idiot; you can't, however, as you're slapped on your sensitive clit once again.

fuck - a streak of euphoria through you at the jolt has your back arching.

"shut up, Joel." you whimper, "can you just- please, can you fuck me?" you ask, brows knitting together. he sighs, pulling back to stare at you with a stern stare. "just a little bit?" you beg, a ravenous force spurring in your blood. you need him.

"god damn it." he snaps, "I'm bein' so good to you, and all you can do is bitch and moan about my cock. got you so fuckin' obsessed, don't I?"

you groan in frustration, half of your body screaming to let yourself rest and half of you searing with desire and frustration. his words fluster you; even more so as he leans forward, hand spreading you apart to roll his clothed hips against your bare ones gently.

you let out a mewl, hips jerking back at the directness of the denim on your clit, the sharp sensitivity hitching in your throat. you ache and clench around nothing, your cunt begging to be filled by him. "please, Joel. I'll do anything." you insist smally, eyes fluttering shut. his lips ghost over your hairline and then peck your cheek in a shocking show of kindness.

"you can take it?" he murmurs against your lips. hope sparks in your heart and your bare ankles wrap around his his, pressing him against you, "yes, yes." you promise, nodding eagerly. he hums in thought.

"I'll fuck you with my fingers, then."

you gasp, hips jolting when his fingers spread your sopping lips, his eyes intent on your face as he circles your entrance. the tip of a finger notches against you and you flutter around him; your hands grasp onto his forearm and shoulder, staring up with a gasp. you're aching - you need him, any of him.

"Jesus, look at'you." he groans, muttering as his head dips to watch your pussy suck his fingers in with ease. he slowly pushes until he's knuckle-deep, groaning, "greedy little thing."

but his eyes stare and he doesn't move; you take it upon yourself to rock your hips, gasping at the pleasure you find as you take him even deeper.

he looks desperate, with his eyes wide, curls wet, mussed, and peppered on his head. "baby, I've gotta taste you." he grunts, suddenly sliding back down to lay between your legs; you mewl in shock as his mouth attaches to your clit in moments.

his fingers, then, start to thrust. gentle, at first, but you're so stimulated you shake your head, "can't-I can't." you whimper.

he shakes his head, the action notching his nose once again against your clit and sending shots of euphoria through you. you feel numb and on fire, eyes rolling back.

"you can, and you will." he mutters into your pussy, tongue sliding across the sopping plane of you as his fingers pick up their pace; your thighs clench shut around his head and squeeze - you can't help it - and he moans a genuine sound of pleasure at the feeling.

"you were so ready to when it was my cock. maybe I should use some of your toys you love tellin' strangers at bars about so much." he grunts, "make this little pussy cream even more."

your face burns as your eyes snap to him; a shiver of interest is soon overcome with the knowledge that you couldn't handle that; you glare at his words, anyways. that was one time, to him. when you were drunk. sure, not the best first impression, but- look where it got you.

you shake your head as you writhe below him, his lips returning to your sensitive mound to suck harshly as his fingers start to pump harder into you. he decides for himself with a hum, pulling away slightly, "no, you taste too fuckin' good. gonna stay here all night."

you believe him.

he tears you apart, tongue lapping you up, twisting his fingers, curling them as he slides them into you; the noise of your cunt wetly taking Joel's fingers and mouth make your eyes roll back.

he's everywhere - your fingers twist once again into the bedsheets, your toes curling as all of your muscles tense.

his fingers leave you suddenly, the feeling leaving you to suck a gasp into your lungs as he trails his hand over the valley of your breasts and into your mouth; you suck your juices off of his fingers eagerly, your mouth falling open in a yelp when he nips gently at your clit.

you jerk away, knowing you're sharply close to your next orgasm, your body tremoring and tears forming in your eyes.

the overwhelming pleasure is building immensely and you squirm away from him with a gasp hands coming to cover your pussy as it spasms, aching and leaking arousal.

"J-Joel- I can't," you wail.

he tuts, "c'mon, taste fuckin' amazing. love this little pussy." his arms snake around your hips, dragging you back and smacking your own hands away from your core. you sigh at the gentle swirl of his tongue through your swollen folds, hands carding into his hair and gripping tight. he mutters it quietly, "jus' one more, sweetheart, you can do it."

you whimper, a tear streaming down your cheek and onto your neck, "I can't, it feels so good, I can't-" you whimper, a direct contradiction to the shaking quiver of your thighs as you roll your hips, savoring the feel of Joel's thick tongue against you.

he hums lowly at your hip's movements and it makes you scream; the vibration and the nudge of his nose on your clit too much-

it hits you all at once.

you can't see anything; your hand flies to the sheets as one hand pushes Joel hard away, euphoria slamming into you harder than you ever have.

you feel the pads of his fingers, swirling over your clit as your hips buck wildly. you're sobbing, a state of bliss you've never felt before. your orgasm lasts much longer than you'd expected, euphoria rolling in waves that keep coming to shore.

when you come to, pussy still clenching in residual flutters, you have to suck in a deep breath.

through your tears, you see Joel's face; the bottom half is soaked in your juices, even the mattress is damp from your high - oh. you didn't know you could do that.

he presses a kiss to your thigh - you jolt, whimpering lightly. he shushes you, hands finding your hips as you shake, trying to come down from that high. "four." he mutters, smirking as you groan, your head falling back. "fuck." you hiss, throat raw.

"that wasn't so hard, was it sweetheart?" he snarks, still not moving from between your thighs, though you're sure they're dead weight on top of his shoulders. says him.

"fuck you, Joel-" but your words stop short and you gasp, hands flying as you feel Joel's tongue lick up the side of your cunt; "I can't Joel-" you sob, shaking your head, "'s too much."

you're so overstimulated you feel like you're floating - but after your shock you realize he's avoiding the sensitive areas, gently swirling his tongue in your wetness. tasting you just for the sake of it. he just shushes you once again- "hey, hey," he soothes, hand petting your hip gently, "just tastin' it. gotta clean you up." you shouldn't, but you feel a hot flood of arousal just at his words. your hands relax in his hair as he slowly moves his mouth around you, avoiding your oversensitive clit mercifully.

"you just rest. did real good, sweetheart. was so fuckin' sexy." you can't rest, though your body slumps and your eyes shut - his tongue runs lazy, thick circles around your pussy, gentle. you can tell - it's not for you, and maybe it never really was; Joel's loving it, and he's not planning on stopping anytime soon.

and you stay like that - eyes closed, catching your breath and calming your tears, as Joel's hands run soothing shapes over your side and thighs, his mouth not leaving you for a second.

it was minutes, could have been almost an hour, and you slowly fell from your teetering edge of unraveling; instead, a slow burn was once again ignited in your stomach as Joel lapped away at you, eating you out gently and devotedly.

occasionally there was a groan or a moan from him, gentle - or a mutter into you about how good you tasted. you'd move your hips gently when something fluttered deliciously and you chased that feeling, thinking of all Joel's words tonight which have made you flush - and most of them praise.

he's like a man starved.

and by the time you start to climb that hill again, your muscles aching but pussy fluttering in desire, you're burning up. you cry again, gently.

he brings you to orgasm a fifth time with a moan into your pussy and your hand gripping his own for dear life.

he laps everything that spills from your weeping cunt as you let out a scream of his name, swallowed by the noise of the outside thunder. you shake and tremor, blissed beyond anything you've felt, tired and spent.

he holds himself to you and you have to twist, crawling away from the devilish mouth that calls your name, his hands gentle as he lets you go; finally having mercy on your destroyed body.

you feel like you're floating, unable to stop shaking.

it's then that he chooses to strip down to his boxers; you watch him with shock as he does so, unsure if he's going to propose you take his cock now - you don't know if you could.

instead, he drops a kiss to your forehead. "I'll be back."

he's in there long enough for you to deduce that he's decided to take care of himself on his own, in the shower - a decision that disappoints you but also seems very thoughtful. there's that flicker of selflessness you see sometimes in Joel - the things he tries to hide.

you hear the faucet running in the bathroom and when he comes back, there's a washcloth and a cup of water for you.

he doesn't wipe between your legs until you're done shaking - and after, you sit there, your hand curled around his bicep, while he soothes over a few strands of your hair.

"gonna need new candles." you mutter, nodding to where they all sit, dripped down to within an inch, wax splattered atop your table and over the side of the foot chest.

"I'll get you a million candles 'f you let me taste you like that again." his chest rumbles as he speaks. a flicker of butterflies once again appear in your chest and you shrug, "I know I said I like when it isn't rough..." you trail off, face burning, "-but none of them ever did... any of that. and I really liked that."

besides, you both knew the moment it left your mouth that your words weren't true - in honesty, Joel has done nothing but rough you up and you always crawl back for more. you wouldn't have it any other way.

he scoffs, "good thing you're mine now." he mutters, "taste like fuckin' heaven. could watch you squirm all day." he drops a kiss to your temple and your eyes bore down at your lap; his words hold a semblance of possessiveness - not unfamiliar to this thing that you have with him, but now much more meaningful to you. why is your heart fluttering so fast, a grin growing on your face?

he clears his throat after a moment, shifting to sit up. in the process, your arm falls from his and you turn to look at him.

"do you remember last time I was in here?" he asks suddenly and you have to snort. "was dying of infection, yes I remember."

he sends you a look. "you were not dyin'. don't be dramatic." he counters, eyes narrowed.

you grin, rolling your eyes, "you were the one who was acting like it was such a big deal." you defend with a shake of your head. he sighs, "well I-" he stops short and it occurs to you that he's having trouble getting words out.

you look into his eyes gently, and he's searching yours. you're not sure what he's looking for. "shit," he mumbles, looking slightly lost - you've seen him like this, before - once.

"I'm tryin' to be less...mean. when it counts." he says intently, looking at you. "y'know, after we talked, and I..."

he trails off but you wait patiently for him to find his words.

he finds them eventually. "-well, that time I was here, when I helped you with your bandage..." he stutters his way through it and takes a deep breath. "I said something, that night." he starts again, running his hand over his face.

"you tend to say a lot of things when we're together." you supplement, your heartrate picking up. you're starting to feel your fight or flight kick in.

he rolls his eyes. "yeah, well. I said... that you were probably hopin' I would want t'make you my girl." oh. yes, you remember that. "-and I said that it was pathetic you'd think that." he says, not looking at you.

you too look away; yes, he's said many cruel things to you - that one, in particular, has haunted you many nights after waking up from dreams of warmth and sunshine and Joel's hand in yours.

"one of your best lines yet." you say, unsure what else to do. your gut twists in rejection at just the memory - then, it'd been in the heat of an argument and you'd just used it as kindling to fuel your fire, but it has since become a more prevalent proof every time you start to think too much about the what ifs.

Joel isn't amused by your words. "I'm just saying, if you did ever want somethin' like that - not that you would, but...it wouldn't be pathetic." he finally finishes. "it was a stupid thing to say." he mumbles quickly, still looking away - through the dim glow of the dying candles, you can see the red on his cheeks.

you feel hot, the implications of his words. he wouldn't mind if you wanted him to be yours. if you wanted to be his. your stomach flips.

grazing your hand over his back, you brush your lips to his shoulder. "you didn't mean it. we say a lot of things we don't mean. both of us." you answer softly, your lips caressing his bare shoulder. you feel the goosebumps under you across his skin at the touch and fight a small smile.

“remember when I tried to hit you?” you ask, thinking back to that disastrous dinner and the delicious aftermath on his foyer floor.

he smirks, finding the courage to look down at you. “think ‘bout it a lot.”

you hit his shoulder playfully, shaking your head with your own wry grin. of course he does.

he looks at you faintly, a hint of a smile flickering over his face. "we've been through a lot of shit together." he murmurs. he eyes the dresser across from you, lit up by a candle; you don't know how, but somehow he pinpoints exactly where you've hidden your gun, in your sock drawer. and he probably knows exactly why it's hidden.

"-don’t get me wrong, I like this thing we got goin’ for us, with the teasing and fighting - but I just want you to know I trust you. and I care about you." he says just as gently, his face flustered. your face heats at his words, a gust of affection blowing through you at his bashfulness.

you smile, leaning in to him; your hands snake around his neck as you gently pull his face to you. he finds more words, "sometimes you're a pain in my ass-" he raises a brow before you can snap back at him- "-but nothing you could do is... pathetic. 'specially not thinking something like that."

his eyes are large and hold none of the desire that they did thirty minutes ago; instead they hold something much deeper, more vulnerable. you don't feel scared by it.

you smile, "I trust you, Joel." his eyes stare into yours unafraid. "thank you. I care about you too."

and you're not ready to say everything else to him - no, not yet, even though your heart's known it for a while and so have you, somewhere in the back of your mind.

you do want something like that. you want exactly that.

"-and," he starts, "since this was your idea of something more civilized," he sends you a look through the corner of his eye; you know this isn't the worst of your sins committed with Joel, but you recognize his sentiment with a smirk, thinking back to your earlier words. you hide your growing smile as he adds:

"-maybe we could get drinks sometime."

taglist closed - this is the last fic that will be using my taglist. moving on, I've made a notifs blog - @tremendumnotifs - for ppl to follow for notifications. tysm!!]

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readers-cup-of-tea · 2 years

Text

When They realize they love you.

Showcases Harry, Draco, Ron, Neville, Luna, Hermione, Sirius, Remus, Severus, and Tom.

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pronouns: gender neutral

TW: Some light cursing(??) mentions of getting injured.

When they realized they loved you

Harry Potter

After a quidditch game, Harry is one of the best seekers Hogwarts had ever seen, so naturally he’d win the end game of the year! As he caught the Golden snitch everyone around him erupted in chaos as people cheered and screamed.

The Gryffindor team immediately lowered their brooms to the ground as victory seeped in.

An hour later Harry made his way to the common room, as he entered his dorm there was a breakout of praise and song as they basked in another year of glory.

Harry made his way over to you, Ron, and Hermione. But was pushed back when you ran at him full speed and roped him into a hug.

As he hugged you back a blush blossomed onto his cheeks.

He could definitely get used to that.

Draco Malfoy

During a late night talk, It was nearing 3 Am and you and Draco laid on his bed, You’d been up for ages it seemed as the two of you talked about nothing in particular.

The topic had landed on your alls grades as you vented about hoe Snape had failed you on the last quiz,

“I just don’t understand how you can do so well in his class! It’s impossible” You exclaimed.

“Oh Y/n, don’t you know? I’m too good to fail.” He smirked at you.

You stared at each other for a second before you burst into a fit of laughter,

As Draco stared at your laughing face his heart skipped a beat.

Even if life wasn’t great sometimes, you really made it better.

Ron Weasley

When he’s jealous, A burning feeling blazed in his chest as he saw Hermione and Krum at the dance. How dare she! After all he and Harry had done for her? And she goes and makes friends with the enemy?

He huffed himself further into his seat as Harry left him to go get some punch.

A shadow loomed over him, making him look up, Staring into the face of Y/n.

“Hey Ron, Are you doing alright?” You said, taking a seat where Harry had been.

“Yeah, I’m fine- This night has turned out to be right bollocks though.” He crossed his arms further.

“Well…I already talked to Harry and he said that it’d be okay if we wanted to get out of here.”

Ron quickly looked over towards you, “Get out of here? Yeah, cmon, let's do it.”

He led you out of the dining hall and outside into the courtyard, As you two stood under the moonlight, Ron only had one thought.

He had never seen someone more beautiful than you in his life.

Neville Longbottom

While hanging out in the greenhouses, “And this one is called a venomous tentacula- It’s something used in potions quite frequently, but very dangerous. So please be careful!”

Neville went through each of the plants, telling you what they did and how they grew, as he ranted to you, he looked up to see you staring at him lovingly.

He stuttered his way through the next three plants as he blushed harder than a Weasley.

He never realized before how nicely your eyes lit up when he started to speak, well, he could get used to that.

Luna Lovegood

Patching her up after she got hurt, Most thestrals were loving creatures, honestly! But like any other animal, they did get hostile.

Luna just so happened to catch one of the thestrals while they were in a bad mood.

You rushed to the Ravenclaw common room as soon as you heard what had happened.

Answering the riddle, you entered the dorm, looking around for Luna.

“Oh hello, Y/n” Luna smiled serenely from one of the navy couches.

“Luna! Oh, are you okay? I heard you got quite the nasty scratch from a thestral.

“Hmm? Oh, yes I did.” She showed you a red mark on her forearm.

Pulling gauze out of your bag, you sat down next to her and gently grabbed her arm and started to patch her up.

Looking at you while you worked your magic made her feel a sense of calm, how strange.

Hermione Granger

Helping you with homework, The two of you had been in the library for hours now as Hermione tried and failed to help you wrap your head around a spell for charms class

As Hermione pointed towards one of the many books she had gathered she showed you the motions to mimic.

”Ok, Y/n, Now you try.”

As you moved your wand a blue luminance came out, you had finally done it!

“Yes! You did it!” Hermione cheered before quieting down with an embarrassed look.

The smile you gave her was as bright as the morning sun in Hermione's eyes.

Why is her heart beating so fast now?

Remus Lupin (young)

Chilling by the Black Lake, You laid in the soft grass as the sun started to set, you had been reading a muggle story to Remus as he laid his head in your lap.

“And they all lived happily ever after, The End.” You slipped the book closed and looked down at him.

“So, whaddya think?”

Remus smiled up at you, “I loved it. Your voice is so soothing to listen to.”

You blushed and looked away, “Only because I have such a good listener.”

Now it was his turn to smile as you looked on smugly.

He all the sudden shifted and tackled you onto the ground, You laughed as you playfully fought against him.

Remus had never felt so…peaceful in his life.

Sirius Black (Young)

Helping him pull a prank, “hahah! I cannot believe James let us use the cloak! Oh this is gonna be amazing!” Sirius whispered to you as he hid you both under the invisibility cloak.

You giggled along with him as you two played out your plan, to finally prank Remus!

“Alright here's the plan, we sneak up behind him, you cast Rictumsempra (tickling charm), and then I'll tackle him from behind! It’s genius!”

As you sneaked up on Remus you silently cast the spell, The werewolf started to laugh and dropped the book he was reading,

Sirius sprang out of the cloak and pulled Remus down to the ground.

“You win! You win!” Remus laughed as Sirius started to roughhouse him.

“Whoo! 50 points to Sirius!” Sirius raised both arms into the air as you revealed yourself from the cloak.

“Yeah!” You exclaimed as Sirius celebrated with you.

He never wanted this to end.

Severus Snape (young)

Stopping Potter and his gang from bullying him, “Snivellus! You can’t hide from us forever!” James called out as he and the marauders stalked towards Severus.

“Not today Potter! Leave me alone!” Severus yelled back as he tried to get away from the other boys.

“Hey Potter! Didn’t you hear him!? Leave him alone you insufferable twat!” You fumed at james and his friends.

Severus stared at you in awe as James sheepishly apologized to you before shooting him a nasty glare.

You turned towards him and asked if he was okay, he just nodded.

“Cmon Sev, Let’s go and get something to drink, yeah?”

“Okay, yeah.”

You led him to the Hogwarts kitchens and had the house elves prepare them tea.

As you talked to him and made him laugh he could forget Potter and his friends.

Tom Riddle

When It’s the last day of school, The train would be here any second now, another year at Hogwarts over, another summer back at Wools.

His bitter thoughts lessened when you walked up to him, “Hey Tom.” You said softly.

“Hello.”

“I hope you enjoy your summer, I’ll admit I’m gonna miss you.” You nudged his shoulder.

He looked at you, “Oh please, L/n, Don’t get all sappy on me now. He brushed you off but paused when he heard a sniffle.

Watery eyes looked at him, You really did care for him, didn’t you?

Without another word he pulled you into an embrace, It was just for the summer, He wasn’t leaving you just yet.

But under all his biting remarks and thoughts, Tom really was going to miss you.

Thank you so much for reading! If you want to see more then my requests are open!

Ao3: JanusAndHyde

#Harry Potter #harry potter x reader #draco x reader #ron x reader #neville x reader #luna x reader #hermione x reader #remus x reader #sirius x reader #severus x reader #tom riddle x reader #xreader #hp headcanon #harry potter headcanon

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milkywaybottles · 2 years

Text

Smile - Papa IV / Copia (The Band Ghost) x Reader Fluff

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hiya! Thanks to the amazing response on the last Ghost post (Thank you all so much by the way <3), I'm back, but this time, with Copia! Please enjoy and don't forget to interact if you feel like it xx

Reader's Pronouns: Unspecified but typically more feminine descriptions. (Is labelled as ‘Sister’)

Prompt: 'There it is, there's that smile'

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The gardens of the ministry were by far the most peaceful area you had access to. The soft sound of water running from the pond complimented the streaming lights through the trees and the fresh smell of blossoms. The garden terrace was home to many arches of dahlias and vines, draping over the greenhouse beautifully. You were sure that even the resident birds had gotten used to your presence. It was times like this that you took to reflect or create art alone.

If someone needed you, they definitely knew where to find you.

In fact, Sister Imperator was so insistent in your involvement in that side of the ministry that she essentially made you Sister of the Satanic Garden, if there was such a thing. But it wouldn’t have surprised you if the kind woman simply wanted to keep you busy while Copia was away performing rituals. Nevertheless, you enjoyed tending to the flowers in all their glory, chopping the heads off of roses to keep the stems or watering the nightshade.

Though, this time around, you were swept with a wave of loneliness. Even the flowers appeared to be in sync with your emotions, the trees groaning with disapproval. The watering can you held clung loosely to your side due to slumped shoulders. Sighing, your eyes flickered across the garden beds, mood deflating. It had been weeks since you had seen Copia, felt his embrace or delighted in his conversation. It was always hard, especially as the job of Papa was so taxing on him, but this particular ritual cycle took everything out of you both. With little time for letters or any other form of communication, you felt yourself begin to drift from the members of the ministry and spend more time outside. Even when he was home, he tended to be distant.

It hadn’t been for lack of trying, of course. Many of the ghouls and ghoulettes had attempted at cracking through your hard shell but did not succeed. Cumulus would bring plates of dinner to yours and Copia’s room, only to find yourself curled in layers of his blankets, fast asleep. She would place the plate on the bedside table, stacking a pile of untouched food as high as the sky. Aether, who believed he would be the one to get through to you, would come on walks with you in the garden, eager to hear your ramblings about your latest endeavours. He would smile and nod, occasionally engaging in a handful of inquisitive questions. Even Rain, Fire and Mountain had their fair share of attempts.

To find the motivation to get out of bed, you would count the days. With each sleep, the number would fall ever so slightly, much to your satisfaction. When the number reached seven, your mood had lightened, coming down in the morning for breakfast. After indulging in a conversation with one of the Sisters, you found yourself in the garden again, picking a bouquet of flowers for the morning sermon held by Sister Imperator. The number echoed through your mind, taking a permanent seat there.

“Just seven, then there will be rest period” you repeated, grumbling and mumbling as you worked. Unbeknownst to you, Sister was peering through the window of the ministry, arms folded while watching you, face twisted with concentration. Your heart ached for companionship. Even if one of the ghouls had approached you, you would have never turned them away. And the company would have been lovely on such a harsh day, wind whipping against your face and your hair flying wildly. The clouds had darkened, shadows cast over the ministry. You were partial to this type of weather, the untameable and unpredictable kind. It was the kind that meant you could sit on the windowsill in your room with a hot drink and a book, shrouded in a blanket and Copia resting between your legs while brainstorming songs.

Without him, you felt as though you were suffocating, Copia was your air. You understood well that his religion was crucial to him, meaning rituals were a top priority, as they were to you, but the man worked tirelessly with little to no reward. Even when he was home at the ministry, you would catch him in the library or in his office at godly hours of the morning, face lit by candlelight as he studied Latin. The corner of your mouth turned upwards at the thought of him sleepily making his way back to bed.

Too entranced to notice the subtle crunching of leaves, you pursed your lips and continued working. A patter of rain beat against your body.

"Cara mia, what are you doing out here, eh? You're going to catch a cold". Your heart skipped a beat at the voice, the pet name, the inflection of the words, the speech pattern. You whipped your head around at the sound, eyes landing on a familiar figure. Barely able to hide your beaming smile, you observed the man. Copia still had the same salt and pepper hair, makeup smudged across his face and was still in the more relaxed ritual clothing. "There it is, there's that smile"

"Copia! What are you doing here?" You quizzed, suddenly feeling awfully insecure about your appearance. Since you thought you had a week before his return, you hadn't prepped to look your best to give him a proper greeting. Upon seeing this behaviour, Copia shook his head and stepped toward you, his gloved hand snaking up to your cheek.

"I am the Papa of this ministry, am I not, bella?". His innocent statement prompted a fire to break out across your skin, your cheeks covered in a hot blush.

"You know that's not what I meant"

"Si, the rituals ended early". You paused at his hand on your cheek, embracing the man with haste. The scent of fresh incense filled your nose, warmth radiating across your body. The desire to hold your partner and never let go was strong. His face found its way into the crook of your neck, hot breath against your skin. "So pretty, as always. I see nothing has changed"

"I missed you so much" you mumbled, pressing your hand to the back of his head to savour the hug.

"I missed you as well, Cara Mia. Sister told me you would be here... and oh my, the gardens have flourished under your care". He always knew how to compliment you in the right way to make you blush. His arm pulled out yours, extending it and his lips briskly brushing against the fabric of your sleeves. Soon, he left a trail of kisses in his wake, making his way up your arm and to your shoulders before placing a peck on your lips. A fire burned in your belly.

"I needed something to do while you were gone" you replied bashfully, squinting as the rain fell into your eyes. "I do get rather lonely sometimes". That was perhaps the biggest understatement. His eyes flickered with an unrecognisable emotion, eyebrows arching as he took his hands in yours, holding them to his face.

"Come with me next ritual, please" He begged.

You timidly smiled, "I don't think Sister will let us"

"We will make her listen". Another peck was planted on your drenched forehead.

From the window of the ministry, Sister could barely make out two figures, silhouettes blissfully reuniting in the haze of rain. Under the branches of a willow tree, the figures took each other's hand and the smaller figure was spun, falling into a twirl in the other's arms. Their devotion was sealed with a kiss.

Satan had blessed you with a smile once more, and Copia thanked him gratefully for it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#rain ghoul #nameless ghouls #Cardinal Copia x reader #dewdrop ghoul #the band ghost #ghost #cardinal copia #papa iv #fluff #x reader #oneshot #aether ghoul #Papa IV x reader #papa emeritus iv #Papa IV #Popia #copia x reader #cumulus #fire ghoul

927 notes · View notes

dewedup · 8 months

Note

Anon here again. Upon seeing one of your reblogs, I know what to request :) Rain/Dew daddy Rain. Go wild. <3

you said go wild and i took that to heart

i was going to use this as an excuse to try my hand at writing some absolutely filthy smut, i hope you enjoy!

earthly delight (raindrop)

“Thank you,” Dew whispers, looking down to the ground submissively. Rain’s gloved hand wraps tightly under Dew’s chin, tilting his head back up to stare directly into his eyes.

“Thank you what?” Rain snarls, his lip curling back to reveal his fangs in a predatory manner. If Dew wasn’t already turned on, the look of disgust on Rain’s face would have him rock hard instantly.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

or Rain's just in the greenhouse trying to get some peace and quiet but Dew is bored and horny.

18+ ONLY

Pairing: Dewdrop x Rain (Raindrop)

Fandom: The Band Ghost

Words: 2,490

Tags: Daddy Kink, Face Slapping, Improvised Sex Toys, improvised lube, Spit Kink, Facials, Come Swallowing, Come Eating, Spanking, gardening kink?, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Explicit Sexual Content, Anal Play, Semi-Public Sex, Dewdrop Is A Little Shit, Smut, Overstimulation, Daddy Rain, Bratty Dew

Read below the cut or AO3 link

a massive, love-filled shoutout to @jimothybarnes for being the best beta, smut-writing guide, cheerleader, for talking about ideas and motivating me to work this out and catching things my terrible eyes missed (any remaining errors or mistakes are all me though!)

Something about the feeling of burrowing his hands into soft dirt, cradling the roots of a new bloom with a touch so delicate it could ghost the surface of a body of water without creating as much as ripple, gives Rain the deepest sense of peace. He knows exactly why Mountain chooses to spend so much time in the greenhouse, the fresh oxygen tinged with the gritty smell of fertilizer is calming. It’s why he doesn’t hesitate to take Mountain up on his offer of helping with repotting some of the seeds that had started to take root.

He's a natural, and his ability to sense the level of hydration in the plants comes in handy, instantly learning how much water would suffice for each species. He even found a plant identification textbook in the library and will lay in bed at night, absorbing the information like a plant absorbs the sunlight.

Mountain left a little while ago, Aurora was trying to build an IKEA shelf for her room, but it was getting a little too tall for her to reach. Mount, taking pity on the vertically challenged ghoulette, left Rain to his own devices in the greenhouse.

Rain places the seedling into the larger pot, covering the hole with dirt and singing softly to the plant in ghoulish as he restores it to its former glory. Mountain insists that singing inspires the plants to grow and Rain hasn’t read that in his textbook, but as a novice gardener he has no right to question Mountain’s ethics. He therefore calls forth the soft lullabies of his childhood for the lives he holds in his hands.

Rain startles as a handful of dirt hits the back of his neck, knocking over the watering jug beside him in his surprise. He turns around to see Dew smirking from a few feet away, brushing his hand onto his pant leg to remove any lingering debris.

“How long have you been there?” Rain demands, his voice cracking slightly in embarrassment at having been caught by surprise. Dew shrugs his shoulders, taking a few steps closer as his claws trail along the leaves of the plants in his direct vicinity.

“I’d say I’m at least three songs deep,” Dew chuckles, coming to a stop in front of Rain. “I haven’t heard those in centuries, do you take requests?” Rain flushes brightly at being caught in the act. Mountain was definitely fucking with him about the singing, he’d have to address that later.

“I’d like to request that you fuck off and go bother somebody else,” Rain replies, irritation seeping into his tone at the interruption of his peace and quiet. He realizes his mistake as Dew’s eyes flash dangerously, the challenge written in the way his lips tilt upwards.

“Oh yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you?” Dew teases, reaching out to push the hand trowel Rain had left on the counter, knocking it onto the floor while never breaking eye contact. Rain’s entire body tenses as Dew smiles up at him innocently. He takes a deep breath through his nose, taking his time to respond as Dew continues to stare at him, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“Pick it up.” The authoritative tone Rain uses seems to be exactly what Dew’s looking for as he grins up at the water ghoul. But then again, he also isn’t one to give in that easily.

“I don’t think I will,” Dew argues, but the words have barely left his lips before a resounding smack echoes across the greenhouse, Rain’s palm making firm contact with Dew’s left cheek. The fire ghoul’s head snaps to the side at the force and he shakes it slightly before looking back up at Rain’s stoic face.

“I said, pick it up.” Rain repeats, using a gloved hand to point to the ground where the trowel lays. Dew swallows loudly as he breaks eye contact, ducking his head as he slowly lowers himself to the dirt-covered floor, kneeling to pick up the tool he knocked off the table. He remains on his knees as he holds the trowel in his palms, raising it to Rain. The water ghoul runs his eyes over the offering, seeming to weigh the meaning of the gesture with an almost bored look. Dew tenses in anticipation the longer Rain towers over him in consideration, his cock hardening in interest at the blatant display of disregard, as if he’s not even worth Rain’s time.

Rain seems to reach a verdict, his hand snapping out once again, making contact with Dew’s cheek again. The back of his knuckles hit the hardest and Dew’s a little disappointed that Rain’s still wearing gardening gloves, he relishes the sweet sting the pretty rings he wears leave with each brush against his cheek.

“Thank you,” Dew whispers, looking down to the ground submissively. Rain’s gloved hand wraps tightly under Dew’s chin, tilting his head back up to stare directly into his eyes.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Dew corrects, shifting slightly as the water from the spilled jug seeps into his pants at the knees, cold and uncomfortable as Rain just watches from above with disinterest. He takes note of Dew’s discomfort but makes no move to let the ghoul rise from his position, instead watching as the wet patches spread over the material of his pants.

“Good ghoul,” Rain praises, moving his hand from Dew’s chin to his cheek, caressing where it’s stained red from the attention he’s given it. “A treat for such a good boy,” Rain murmurs, circling Dew’s mouth with his thumb before resting it on his bottom lip. Dew eagerly bites down on the material, keeping a hold of it as Rain tugs his hand back. They repeat this process with each finger, Dew’s teeth clenching around the fingertips of the gloves as Rain works his hand free until the glove falls off completely, Dew letting it hit the ground as he readies for the second glove.

The backhand across his cheek is more powerful than the previous, the rings no longer being covered leave two small cuts on Dew’s cheekbone as he looks up at Rain in confusion.

“I didn’t say to drop it,” Rain drawls in disappointment, gesturing to the glove on the ground. Dew reaches to grab it but freezes as Rain tsks, the sound of his tongue echoing in the empty greenhouse. "Not with your hands.”

Dew glances warily at the glove, now sitting in the same puddle of muddy water that he is currently kneeling in. Rain growls low in his throat, the warning clear as Dew braces his hands on the floor, lowering his upper half to the ground as he stretches his neck, teeth securing the glove for a second time. He returns to his kneeling position, the glove dripping dirt-tinged water onto his clothes as he presents the prize back to Rain, feeling more like a dog than a ghoul as he waits. Rain pauses for a minute, before reaching out, pinching the glove by a small, clean corner as he raises it to his eye-level, observing the object longer than necessary as Dew looks up at him, waiting eagerly for the next instruction.

“It’s dirty,” Rain declares, lowering the glove back to hang dauntingly before Dew’s face. The fire ghoul hesitates briefly before he darts his tongue out, licking tentatively at the piece of clothing. The water tastes earthy on his tongue; the grittiness of the dirt is mixed with a slight tang that must be the Miracle-Gro Mountain denies using. Dew thanks his lucky stars he’s a ghoul and not human, his superior body able to break down the toxins that would surely leave a flesh bag with some lasting side effects. Dew looks up at Rain from beneath his eyelashes as he continues to clean the garment, the water ghoul’s eyes glued to every flick of his tongue. Just when he’s getting into a rhythm, Rain pulls back with a satisfied look.

“Is that good, Daddy?” The words come out in a desperate plea as Rain adjusts the obvious bulge in his pants. Dew absolutely preens as Rain smiles down at him, the sight as gorgeous as it is every time Dew’s on the receiving end of that look, filled with love and adoration. Rain offers a hand down to the ghoul, which he gladly accepts, being pulled up from his kneeling position.

As he rises the smile shifts, Rain’s lips tilting into something else, mocking the beautiful smile he’d worn only moments before with a devilish twist.

In one swift movement Rain spits onto the glove, pulling Dew close and shoving it into his mouth. Dew makes a noise of surprise that’s muffled by the makeshift gag as Rain turns him around and bends him over the edge of the worktable.

“You know you were being naughty,” Rain drawls, his fingers making quick work of Dew’s pants and exposing him to the humid air of the greenhouse. “And you know what happens when you’re being naughty, don’t you baby?”

The ‘yes Daddy’ is unrecognizable with the glove in his mouth, but Rain can put two and two together. His hand runs teasingly along the ghoul’s ass before he raises and brings it down firmly, the skin-to-skin contact tingling his palm with the force exerted. Dew moans loudly into the glove, wiggling in pleasure. Rain coos softly, rubbing at the red marred flesh. An idea hits him as his eyes land on the forgotten trowel and he’s grabbing it in the next second, admiring the tool as Dew looks back over his shoulder in anticipation.

“I think your punishment will be that you don’t get my cock,” Rain muses aloud, ignoring the muffled whine the fire ghoul releases. He tuts softly as he bends down scooping up a handful of mud from the floor. He coats the handle of the trowel in the mixture, making sure it’s completely covered, before bringing it to Dew’s tight asshole.

Dew’s eyes widen in surprise as he watches the best he can, his dick twitching at the malevolent look on Rain’s face. Rain pushes the handle, forcing Dew to open up to let it in. Dew lets out a hiss at the breach, the handle is big enough to burn without any prep and the grittiness from the mud catching his skin in a stinging pain. Rain eases it in, twisting and pushing as he works open the ghoul below him, the layer of filth around the puckered hole building the further he pushes in. He brings his hand down again, spanking with the same palm he used to gather the ‘lube’. The dirt leaves a perfect image of his hand on Dew’s ass cheek, the splattering flecks surrounding it creating the most beautiful work of art.

Rain wishes he had a camera to capture how perfect his ghoul looks right now.

“So good for Daddy,” Rain purrs, and Dew clenches tightly around the handle of the trowel. He’ll need at least three showers before he feels any semblance of clean again, but the added texture of the dirt feels unholy now, as Rain starts to fuck into him in earnest with the gardening tool.

Dew can feel the drool that manages to escape the glove sliding down his chin, every pant and moan coming out like ancient ghoulish, unrecognizable. His eyes roll back into his head as Rain angles the trowel so that it’s brushing right against his prostate, pleasure sparking all the way to his fingertips from the inside.

Dew yelps as Rain’s hand finds it’s home around his painfully hard cock, the dirt adding to the sensation as he jerks him off furiously, the overstimulation of both movements pushing Dew over the edge almost instantly.

Rain doesn’t let up, continuing to move his hands as Dew writhes under him, flinching with each movement.

“C’mon baby, do it again for me,” Rain begs, Dew mewling pathetically in response as every touch feels like an electric shock. He knows he won’t be able to cum again so soon, but fuck would he do anything to please the water ghoul above him. Unintelligible babbles leave his glove-filled mouth as Rain continues the torturous touches, milking his already spent cock.

Rain finally releases the ghoul before him, removing the hand trowel and leaving wet open-mouthed kisses along Dew’s neck as he runs his fingers over his slim frame, resting them lightly on the dip of his hips. He pulls the ghoul into him, using the sharp edges of Dew’s body to bring himself closer to the edge of his own pleasure. Dew whines at his lack of involvement and Rain shushes him, turning his body around until Dew is kneeling before him once again. He carefully removes the glove from Dew’s mouth, the fire ghoul licking his lips with the new-found freedom before he discreetly wipes the drool from his chin.

“Are you thirsty, baby?” Rain purrs, running his claws delicately down Dew’s cheek, brushing over the cuts from earlier, earning a hiss from the fire ghoul. Dew stares at him, eyes wide, and nods his head.

“Yes, Daddy,” Dew whimpers, pleading eyes staring up at Rain from underneath his lashes and Rain has to bite his lip to stifle the filthy groan that tries to escape. His gaze drops down to Dew's lips, and Rain can't help but admire how pink and inviting they look. He licks his own lips unconsciously, and Dew's eyes follow the motion.

Rain’s hand moves from Dew’s cheek to his chin, grasping tightly as Dew keeps eye contact as he slowly opens his mouth, stretching as far as he can and sticking his tongue out slightly. Rain leans closer and spits directly into his mouth, the saliva landing on Dew’s tongue and he swallows like he’s been in the desert heat for days without water.

A hungry roar rips from Rain’s throat as he jerks off furiously, pointing towards Dew’s open mouth as he comes with a shuddering groan. Dew tries to catch everything on his tongue, opening as wide as he possibly can. Rain watches in fascination as Dew uses his tongue to push the mess almost spilling out of his mouth, before he swallows slowly, sticking his tongue back out to show Rain his hard work. Rain’s breath hitches at the deliberate movements, his lips spreading into a delicious grin before he leans down, stopping in front of Dew’s mouth, before licking out at the corner, collecting some of the seed he hadn’t managed to get into the hole. He keeps the mess on his tongue, showing the fire ghoul his own cleaning skills before he swallows down the taste of himself.

#thank you for the ask!!#thank you for the request!!!#the band ghost #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost fanfiction #raindrop #raindrop fanfic #dewdrop x rain #dewdrop/rain #dewdrop ghoul x rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #gloom writes #fic request #daddy rain #bratty dew #gloom answers

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sims4clutterchaos · 18 days

Text

Culzean Castle... Greenhouse!

Living in a Castle Greenhouse.... why not?

Yesterday I posted about my inspiration for a build: the greenhouse at Culzean Castle ... I had a lot of fun with this build- I mean.... a mini castle, that's a green house, as a living space with a loft bedroom overlooking the living area?!? What's not to love?!?!

The exterior uses some of the "castle kit" and @felixandresims "gothic" build set.

This build is on the Gallery: Culzean Castle Greenhouse, ID: daniandnick. CC List is below the images

CC List:

Culzean Castle Greenhouse CC List

SYB_Pavilion_Stone_fence.package

CHATEAU_Fridge.package

IngeliWFSWineryPergolaAllParts.package

SSTS_Sort_Of_Victorian_Bookshelf_short_1sq.package

om_Plant_HerbTeapot.package

[Joyce]Summer Garden - Morning Glory By The Window 3.package

Chisami-SUNDAY_Roses_Pot.package

k-hippie-k-new-plant-sneaky-01.package

Sims4Luxury_KateSimblr_Dark_Academia_Collab_Office_Chair.package

Ingeli_WFSNostalgiaFloorPillow.package

Simsi45_Pillow_Galore_Collection_MERGED.package

souris_macarossi_lavatera_08052016.package

SSTS_Neoclassical_Parlor_Armchair_Cushion_linked.package

SSTS_Neoclassical_Parlor_Sofa_Cushions_main.package

Mutske_WindowPlanter_Ivy.package

dorosimfan1_SMP_LavendelKlein_BlumenladenDeko.package

Onion(for wall) by Granny Zaza.package

souris_macarossi_aubretia_07052016.package

M-Geo_Classics of the genre_books2.package

BS_LivingroomVictoriaPillowround.package

M-Geo_Classics of the genre_books3.package

SIXAMcc_artz-plant-small.package

Pierisim_DomaineDuClos_Thyme.package

KellyMarie69VitaSimsTruffleBedroomDecorativeBag.package

KHD_Lorrania_Teaspoons.package

AnYe_december_bookandglasses.package

KICHEN_Rubber_Plant.package

UrbanLolitaProps04_jennisims.package

FAB_BG_Vase_BorderLilys.package

NA_Sumeru outdoor plant 3.package

SYB_Alaferme_Gardening_gloves.package

Destruam - holmes bedroom - Merged.package

Destruam - holmes bedroom - stack of books # 6.package

CHATEAU_Fireplace_Simple.package

KHD_Fleur Candle 01.package

MXIMS Vitra Eames house Bird II.package

[awingedllama] Boho Living CC Pack.package

kardofe_Eliot Living Room_Vase.package

AnYe_Eva_saltandpepper.package

FAYUN_Shelf.package

AnYe_Venice_towelstand.package

[Wondymoon] - Daucas Wall Lamp.package

[MB] Canning Jars - Sauce.package

COLONIAL_Orchid_Vase.package

KHD Victoriana Two-Seater Bench.package

EA_флаг_средневековый.package

HARRIE Bougainvillea Override.package

[Moriel] BG_GCW_flower_02.package

Padre Altanta Bonsai.package

SYB_Millennial_Hanging_plant_V2.package

[Wondymoon] - Daucas Toilet Paper Holder.package

ATS4_object_kitchenherbs_sage_pot.package

SSTS_Eclectic_Hallway_Table.package

RubyRed Greenhouse - Rose Plant.package

AnYe_sunday_pumpkinsoupbowl.package

[Severinka] TS4 Agata livingroom - candle v02.package

[Wondymoon] - Daucas Toilet.package

[novvvas] Desierto Bedroom - Olive Tree.package

SIXAMcc_BohoBathroom-Decorative-Plant-7-ClassicPot.package

Felixandre_Gatsby_MERGED.package

SIXAMcc_BohoBathroom-Decorative-Plant-1.package

ATS4_object_kitchenherbs_mint_pot.package

KHD_Lorrania_Perfume_Pot.package

MF-bb-BunchaBooks.package

sforzinda_clutterEP12careerdaytable.package

COLONIAL_Potted_Palmtree.package

rrtt-preserved food.package

FAB_Plant_LilyPot.package

[DSC] - Femme De Luxe Lamp.package

LitttleCakesFluffyPlant.package

[Joyce]Summer Garden - Happy Wild Flowers.package

[Joyce]Summer Garden - Classic Painting.package

[Severinka] TS4 Agata livingroom - candle v01.package

RadioactiveNotebookDrawing.package

PC-TS4-MatildaMudroom-WickerBasket.package

[Severinka] TS4 Tao bedroom - vase.package

KHD_Apothecarium_Bottle01.package

KHD_Midinváerne_Acorn.package

KHD_Origins_Vase.package

Jacob-desmalter_Console.package

FAYUN_Trunk.package

KellyMarie69VitaSimsVenetianBedroomDresser.package

[Moriel] Stable set hay on floor.package

ShinoKCRS4 PB Slippers.package

PC-TS4-VGBMA-ArtDoorco-Single-1T-M.package

RadioactiveOldTeapot.package

AnYe_cozyfall_candles.package

ATS4_object_kitchenherbs_basil_pot.package

SYB_Alaferme_Hydrangea_pot.package

pocci_ts4whitecafe_plant.package

KHD Linen Jars.package

SYB_Ohmygoth_Butterflies_Frames.package

Felixandre_London_Interior.package

NA_Dirt rug.package

KHD_Solstice_CherryBoard.package

DOT_TiffanysWallLampMesh.package

AnYe_cozyfall_woodenbowl.package

KHD_Pantry_Milk.package

KHD Ghibli Egg Basket.package

KHD_Pantry_Shelf.package

Destruam - marquis residence - women statue.package

Destruam - holmes bedroom - stack of books # 5.package

AnYe_Raska_giftboxes.package

JARDANE.package

evi Boho Tapestry3.package

[Severinka] TS4 Agata livingroom - candle v03.package

Seimar How Does Your Garden Grow Foxglove.package

[Moriel] EP11_foxglove_replacement.package

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[lilis-palace]_INTARSIA-Deco_DrawingRoomRoundRug.package

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papasbaseball · 1 year

Text

Primo x Reader (Tillandsia Bulbosa)

+18 CONTENT NOT FOR MINORS. MINORS KEEP SCROLLING

Pairing: Primo x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Plant Aphrodisiacs so dubcon. Plant Tentacles.

Summary: Your search for welcome home presents for the band leads you into the vines of a plant with a salacious appetite. Maybe you shouldn't have stolen from Primo's garden: he thinks you'll make an excellent host.

Word Count: 2,438

Notes: I am continuing my AO3 migration of works written before I created this account. Enjoy!

AO3 Link

Clip. The pruning shears cut through another yellow rose. You'd snipped it near the base of the prickly bush so it'd be extra long, matching the others. So far you had collected 11, just one short of your bouquet for Aether.

All the ghouls, ghoulettes, and Papa were coming home to the Ministry from their latest tour leg. Your bank account was sitting at zero, so you had to get creative for the homecoming party. Raiding Primo's garden was the only solution, especially since the gifts needed to be over the top with their latest success.

Clip. The final rose fell into your hand. Fishing into the pocket of your habit, you pulled out a turquoise satin ribbon you'd nicked from the costuming department. You tied a pretty bow around the thorny stems and began the hunt for your next gift.

Sodo would probably like something fun and spikey. Walking the gravel paths, you searched for something to please the feisty ghoul. There were so many different plants and flowers, growing into the walking path as if they were begging to be chosen. None of them seemed to speak to you, so you kept looking.

Past a bush of hydrangeas, you noticed a worn wooden and glass door. The peeling paint on the glass read "Exotics" and something else that was no longer legible.

That's exactly what I need!

Creaking the door open, a rush of humid air clung to your face. It was warmer inside this section of the greenhouse and you found yourself wondering how the temperature controls of it worked. The heat acted like steroids to these plants, Monstera leaves the size of your torso fluttering from the air pressure change.

Closing the door behind you, you looked for something reasonably sized and not too conspicuous. While you wanted to wow, you weren't looking to raise any investigations into prized plant disappearances. A few Birds of Paradise should do the trick.

Batting away tropical fronds, a curious flower caught your eye. Red tendrils curled and swirled, tangling with each other and the green tendrils that must have been its leaves. It was an impressive sight, reminding you of a blown glass sculpture you'd once seen.

Carefully, you reached out to touch it, dying to know what it felt like. To your surprise, one of the red tendrils curled around your pinky. It must have been one of those moving plants, like a Venus Flytrap or Morning Glory. While it was cute, you needed to untangle the tendril and continue your search.

No sooner had the bouquet of yellow roses touched the wooden edge of the plant bed, than another tendril, this time green, wound its way around your wrist. Prying it up proved to be impossible, so you tried tugging.

The plant gripped tighter with each pull to its tendrils. You turned back, looking for where you'd set your pruning shears: if it wasn’t going to come off willingly, you'd cut the damn thing off. The pruning shears were on the bed opposite your clingy plant.

Your ankle caught on something as you tried to walk over. Horror filled your body at the sight of two thick vines wrapped around both ankles.

Heart quickening, you struggled harder and harder, trying desperately to reach those life-saving shears as more and more vines wrapped around your body. You were going to meet your Dark Lord below. There was only one reason a plant didn't let go of its prey.

"Help!" you cried out. It was a long shot attempt to be saved as you'd specifically snuck in during lunchtime when everyone would be in the cafeteria.

You were at least 3 feet in the air now, probably about to be thrown into the plant's hidden maw, when you felt the vine curl further up your leg to rest on your ass. There was a prickly sensation as it pressed harder into the flesh, but it quickly subsided, a wave of calm passing over you.

More tendrils extended from the plant and you watched in spaced-out fascination as they snaked into your habit. They pulled and ripped at seams and fabric, soon leaving you bare.

Usually, you'd be shivering in the cool fall air, but the warmth and humidity of the greenhouse felt like a warm embrace to your naked form. Two flower-tipped tendrils came up to complete the embrace, latching each to a nipple.

A small moan of pleasure escaped, stamens dancing about and around the stiffening peaks. The feeling was unlike any other: touches featherlight but expert as you felt the warmth rapidly pooling in your core.

The third flower against your clit had you pulling at your botanical restraints. The ghosting touches were bringing you closer and closer to your edge, but you needed more. Pussy dripping, you begged the plant for harder stimulation or something to fill the emptiness.

Obliging your whining, a sizable vine crept up, probing the opening of your soaked cunt. The teasing was torturous, hands gripping at the tendrils that restrained them. Satisfied with your state of arousal, it pushed up into you. You whimpered at the girth, perfectly thick and writhing.

Your legs shook helplessly in their plant supports, body wracked with cries for pleasure and mercy.

"I see you've found Tillandsia Bulbosa, little dove."

You should have been embarrassed by your state of undress, but the wriggling of the vine against a sweet spot inside of you was more important.

Trying to form a response, you only managed an unintelligible grunt as the plant thrusted into you, brushing against your cervix.

"There’s a reason this room is off limits. It looks like it’s already administered the aphrodisiac, considering I could hear your cooing from my office on the opposite side of the greenhouse."

His linen gardening robes pooled on the ground as he examined the base of the plant "The seed pod hasn't been deposited yet."

"Seed pod?" you drooled out, trying to focus on the pleasure at hand.

"Sì cara. This is a parasitic plant. It needs a host to reproduce. Usually, it finds a wild animal, but in this case…" He traced a pointed but groomed nail on the skin above the thicket of hair at the apex of your thighs. "Just relax, suora."

Something larger sought permission for entrance into your folds. You struggled, unsure if it would fit. The stretch was tight, and you felt tears prick your eyes.

"Guardami ragazza, you're doing good. Just breathe. The plant gives un anestetico. Breathe."

The stretch stung less the farther the knot traveled inside you. When you were certain it couldn't go any deeper, blunt pressure was applied to your cervix.

Thoughts of fleeing crossed your mind but we're quickly banished by the redoubled efforts of the stamens on your nipples and clit. The vine inside you bent, applying more pressure to where you desperately needed it.

"I'm going to cum," you gasped, almost as if asking the Satanic Pope for permission.

"Vieni. It will help with the placement."

Your walls clenched hard around the vine for what seemed like forever. The teasing had gone on for so long that it would be impossible to know when the pulsating would stop. Joy flooded your bloodstream as the seed pod was pushed into your womb with barely any effort. The pod was a little heavy and felt like a bag of marbles.

You took deep breaths, trying to ground yourself from the intense sensations. The experience had been a lot and you weren't sure how much more you could take.

"Libera la ragazza dai suoi strumenti di contenzione," Primo incanted. Refined hands swirled and dark ribbons of mist took form around the plant.

Slowly, the plant retracted, untangling its tendrils and vines from your body. You rubbed at the indents on your wrist, going to pick up the remnants of your habit.

"We're not done, dove," Primo said.

You turned to see him holding the bouquet of yellow roses for Aether.

"These are from my personal collection aren't they?"

Toying with your shredded habit, you avoid his gaze. It would be best to keep your mouth shut to avoid further incrimination.

"Thou shalt not steal is a commandment made to be broken, child. However, there are... penalties for stealing from my collection."

Were you to be flogged before all your siblings and the ghouls? Perhaps you would be sentenced to weeks of back-breaking garden labor. Both thoughts turned your blood cold.

"It just so happens that I was looking to breed this plant," he said, gesturing to the now docile tendrils. "However, I was in need of a host for it."

Your hand rubbed above your pubic bone, cradling where the seed pod now lay.

"So, I am free to go?"

"No. There is a second step to the reproduction process of Tillandsia Bulbosa. After it has embedded its pod, the pod will secrete mimic hormones until the animal completes the insemination process with another of its species."

Watching him explain it you wanted nothing more than for him to wrap his bony hands around your throat and use you like a needy whore. Clearly, the mimic hormones were fast-acting.

"What does that mean, Papa?" His linen robes felt rough against the palm of your hand. It crossed your mind that perhaps he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

"It means that in order to get my seeds in three months, someone needs to inseminate you today."

"You could fuck me, Papa." Lust dripped from your voice as you sank to your knees. You dragged your nails down his thighs, looking up at the man in skull paint to bat your eyes. "Pretty please?"

"Is that what you wish, Suora?"

"More than anything in the world." You nuzzled a cheek against his groin, relishing in the scratch of the fabric.

"Then you shall have it."

Lifting the hem of his robes, you took his semi-hard cock into your mouth. He was big, and you struggled to fit him in your mouth, trying your best to salivate and coat the rest of him with your one hand. The other hand raked nails into his thigh. He staggered back at the contact causing you to curl your tongue in amusement.

He groaned gently, removing his robes so he could better guide your head on his cock. His face was folded in pleasure, cryptic long dead words tumbling from the agape mouth. Hands threaded through your hair as he assisted you in your task.

"Smetti or I will have spent myself down your pretty throat before our task is finished."

Sliding him out of your mouth, you swirled your tongue one last time on the rosy head. His salty precum was so delectable that it upset you that you couldn't swallow the rest of it.

"Don't pout, la mia colomba," he said. "You can still have Papa."

Gravel sticking to your knees, you rose, stroking him eagerly. You wanted to feel him in your veins and filling you more than you already had been.

Gripping your shoulders, Primo turned you away from him. A hand glided down your spine as you felt him compelling you to bend forward. The wood of the planter bed was roughly hewn, and you prayed to Satan that it wouldn't leave splinters in your palms.

Worn hands secured themselves on either side of your hips. You wriggled your ass, testing the strength of the grip and excited at how exposed you were.

Crack.

Stinging sung in the flesh of your bottom. It felt good and you wanted more.

"Be still."

"But I want you to fuck me. I need you to fill me. I feel so empty."

Slowly he sank into you, obliging your wish. "Cara, there is a reason for going slow, but if you want it now I will not deny you."

He was bigger than the vine, but not as big as the seed pod had been. Tilting your hips forward, he bottomed out effortlessly. The head of his cock was nestled behind your cervix, and you felt the seeds inside shifting.

You involuntarily moaned as the marble-like seeds knocked against each other, sending deliciously light vibrations throughout your womb.

"The seed pod of the Tillandsia Bulbosa is not a solid structure." He began rocking himself into you at a slow but steady rhythm, jostling the seeds with each thrust. "This can lead to overstimulation in its host if not careful."

Your nails dug into the wood as you tried to keep your legs up. The seeds swirled and stirred, pushed by Primo's movements. Their vibrations intensified as he picked up the pace.

Screaming, you sank to your knees, taking Primo with you to the ground. Your walls were spasming in irregular spurts with the occasional womb contraction.

"You can take it, my little dove," he groaned. "You will take it for the price you must pay."

Fat wet tears rolled from your cheeks to the gravel. "P-please Papa! Use me! I want your cum inside of me! Please breed me! I- I don't know how much more I can take!"

"We're almost done. Be a good girl for your Papa."

Hips stuttered, moving faster, and your vision became spotty every time he railed into you. You pressed your cheek into the cool gravel, grabbing handfuls of the tiny rocks. This had to be Hell, but you didn't want it to stop.

A few more jolts had Primo roaring, digging his talon-like nails painfully into your hips. You were barely cognizant of anything other than the warmth flooding you slowly.

"Once the insemination process has been completed, the pod interacts with the sperm to create a psychotropic sedative effect. You'll probably want to sleep very shortly. Let's get you to my office."

Pulling out, he redonned his robes and scooped up your torpid form almost effortlessly. Primo was stronger than he appeared, so you didn't feel too guilty lolling your head back to rest on his shoulders.

"Feel so good," you slurred. The slick that coated your inner thighs didn't bother you. It almost felt like a trophy, one that you'd earned through hard work.

"Shhh," he hushed.

The boundaries of sleep and waking had robbed you of the memory of getting to his office. All you knew was that he was laying you down on a cot that was meant for a garden ghoul.

"Sleep, amore," he said, tucking a lightweight blanket over you. "I will go find you new clothes and some nourishment. Rest until then."

The last thing you remembered was the gentle kiss planted to your temple before he left.

Translations:

Sì cara - Yes dear

suora - Sister

Guardami ragazza - Look at me girl

un anestetico - an anesthetic

Vieni - cum

Libera la ragazza dai suoi strumenti di contenzione - Free the girl from her restraints

Smetti - Stop

la mia colomba - my dove

amore - love