#i love the Good Word. i am at church | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lokischocolatefountain · 2 months

Text

Warning || Men Like Me

Masterlist

Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: girth age gap, virgin!reader, eventual loss of virginity (not in this chapter), gratuitous descriptions of Joel Miller's body, somewhat creepy!Joel, fetishization of youth, dom!Joel, breaking and entering, playboy magazine, objectification, fingering, sexual discoveries. Word count: 6.2k Summary: Joel's warnings about what men like him would do to girls like you only makes you want him more. A/N: Back in the depths of hell again, you guys. Now this isn't the most depraved thing I've written by any means but it's up there. Come say hi in my chat or inbox, I'd love to talk. Keep a look out for follow up parts and pleeeeease give me comments. I am very very desperate.

Joel Miller was a bad man. That much he knew.

Even as he fixed taps and renovated houses that were falling apart, he could see the blood on his hands. The very hands that packed lunches for Ellie snapped necks, pistol whipped men, stole from a starving child so he could feed his grown brother. But there were lows even he didn’t stoop down to.

Not that he didn’t have the opportunity. Men always did. And in this world, opportunities had only tripled. Even the Boston QZ, as strict as it was, had an underground brothel. He knew Tess to frequent it and never asked questions. Sometimes she needed to bury her face between a good pair of thighs and wrap her lips around a pretty pussy, and this wasn’t something he could give her. There was a lot he couldn’t give her.

Being in Jackson should’ve civilized him. It did in many ways. He’d reverted to the southern gentleman with table manners. ‘Yes, Ma’am’ spilled out of his lips effortlessly when he spoke to women. He held the door for anyone walking in after him. He even went to Church– sorry, the multifaith house of worship–to help renovate.

That was where his troubles began.

There was no point in him going where people prayed. Being back in civilization did not erase his decades of disbelief in a cruel God who would take his baby and keep him on this accursed Earth. But he did because he was back to being a contractor and Tommy asked him to go fix up the pews instead of him. He didn’t have much time, being a new dad and all.

He was on his knees checking out the rotting wood and evaluating how much wood he’d need for building new ones when he was confronted by a pair of legs and a sweet voice. Yours.

“Lemonade, Mister Miller?”

He looked up, his eyes traveling up your legs, bare until he got to your knees where the hem of your flowery skirt sat. Pure, unblemished knees, never taken a fall, didn’t fucking creak, and never knelt before anyone but God. You looked down sweetly, eyes wide and innocent like a newborn cow. Everyone had a kind of darkness about them in this world. Everyone except the kids who didn’t know a world outside the insular walls of Jackson. And you, it turned out, even though you weren’t a kid.

He wiped his sweat off with the greasy rag he carried and looked up at you once again. You had a pitcher and an empty glass in your hands. A sweet smile on your lips and hair falling down your shoulders and reaching your breasts. A yellow ribbon sat in a bow where your neckline dipped between your breasts, adding to the innocence of your look.

“Yes please, Ma’am. Thank you,” he said, giving you a nod. Your pretty plush lips curled up, a giggle escaping them as you poured him a glass of lemonade.

His hand brushed against yours as he accepted the glass, his hand too large to curl around it without making contact with you. You giggled again before retracting your hand and occupying it with adjusting your hair.

“I’m younger than you, you know? Don’t have to call me Ma’am.”

“Just being polite. Ma’am.” He took the glass to his lips, mindful to take only a small sip instead of downing it in desperation. Another adjustment to make when food was no longer a scarcity. Sweet, sour, and salty danced on his tongue before it glided down his throat. Just a sip refreshed him. And the sight of a nice girl didn’t hurt the cause either.

It’d been so long since he had a nice refreshing glass of lemonade. Summers meant worse infestations of infected, not the barbecues, lemonades, and swimming of past. When surviving each hour was under threat, small luxuries like this became out of reach of even one’s dreams.

“Well, guess I should call you Sir then,” you said, leaning against the wall. You held the pitcher up to your chest and the tails of the ribbon on your chest dipped into it, the soft shiny yellow turning dark, tainted.

His mouth watered and fucking hell, it wasn’t the lemonade you just gave him. He took a sip of the drink and licked his lips, imagining how you’d taste if he wrapped his large hand around your neck and pressed his chapped lips to your plush ones. Better yet, if he held your legs apart and devoured you other pair of lips until you were leaking down his mouth. Would you call him Sir then? His cock twitched in his jeans as he pictured you bent over one of these pews, your skirt pushed up and his hand in your hair as he slid his cock in your hole.

Jesus fucking Christ! What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Made the lemonade yourself?” He asked, groaning as he managed to get himself back up on his feet. His knees creaked like the floorboards of the houses he renovated, but ultimately supported him as he stood. He towered over you, making you appear smaller, more fragile.

“Depends. Do you like it?”

“It’s wonderful, of course. Hot summer day like this…I really needed it,” he said, raising the glass up a little before taking another sip.

“Well then yes, I did make it.”

He chuckled, feeling himself pulled in by your easy charisma. It was nice to have normal conversations like this once again. No agenda, no need for establishing himself as someone who wouldn’t hesitate to beat someone up if even mildly threatened. It was just…normal.

“It’s very sweet, Ma’am. Like you I assume,” he added, mentally dusting off the part of his brain where he stored skills for conversing with pretty girls.

You laughed, holding your free hand up to your mouth to cover your lips that widened and revealed your teeth.

“Is that the southern charm that I hear our townspeople talk about?”

“They talk about my charm? I didn’t hear.”

“Oh yes, they do… Joel Miller, charming pants off of everyone in town.”

“Pants? Well that’s disappointing. I was hoping I’d charmed some pretty skirts off.”

“Lots of experience with that, Mister Miller?” you asked, sliding your hand over the soft fabric of the skirt of your dress. Such delicate fabric. He could fist the hem and give it one tug and it’d rip right off.

“More ‘n what you got for sure,” he said, loath to hint at how infrequent his encounters had become in the recent past. Tess died, he did a cross country hike with an annoying kid, he needed to maintain a good reputation in his new town. One buried after the other. Enough to leave a man with nothing but his fist and his imagination. He would kill for a fucking Playboy magazine. Literally. He’d killed for less.

“What do you know about how experienced I am?”

“Been experiencing longer than you’ve been alive, Ma’am.”

“Oh well. Nothing I can’t learn.”

He laughed nervously and stuck his hand in his jeans pocket. Surely you couldn’t be flirting… Why would a young thing like this flirt with him? He was in his late fifties looking like mid sixties and you were… He didn’t know. Young.

“If you could teach me, Mister Miller. Give a girl some experience?”

“I’m sure you can find someone else.”

“Oh. Not your type, am I?” you asked, and he deluded himself thinking you sounded disappointed. No chance.

He didn’t have a type. Long time since he thought of frivolous shit like that. But you shouldn’t be his type.

“There’s much more eligible men in town is what I’m saying,” he said, suddenly hesitant to lie. Lying had never been an issue for him. The right thing was to lie, say you weren’t his type so he wouldn’t cross lines. It’d been a long time since he did the right thing.

“I’ll be the decider of that,” you said with a shrug of your shoulder before taking the empty glass from him. “Have a good rest of the work day, Mister Miller.”

Later that night, he wrapped his fist around his cock in the privacy of his room. His mind flooded with images of you spread out for him, sweet lips and a sweeter pussy milking him. He couldn’t even recall the last time he was with a woman. It was Tess, of course. Sometime before she got thrown in FEDRA jail for the last time. Too fucking long ago.

Surely it was only because it’d been a long time since he got his dick wet. He’d never, in his entire life, pictured a woman so much younger spreading her legs for him. Sucking his cock. Crying out his name. How old was she even? Not past mid twenties for sure.

It was wrong, he knew, as white hot spend spurted out of his cock and covered his hand. A sour tang took over his mouth as the fog of unadulterated lust cleared up to reveal the ugliness in his head. He shuddered, feeling like something had crawled under his flesh. He hadn’t felt guilt like this in so long.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

You weren’t even as old as his kid would be had she been alive.

He’d known men like that back in the day. Grays in their hair and skin like old leather, but pretty young things old enough to be their daughter hanging off their arm. It was obvious that none of them kept these girls around for love or for their personality. It was always sex and the feeling of self-importance when a sweet young thing paid attention to balding heads, beer bellies and limp dicks that needed a blue pill to get up.

Fucking disgusting.

He began avoiding you whenever you happened to be in the same space. At the house of worship, the town clinic where you interned, trading days when people exchanged what they had for what they wanted. His eyes never met yours and he always quickly looked away when they stared too long at your uh…feminine features– pretty legs, cute ass, round tits. Where the fuck did you get sundresses anyway? Who kept that shit around in this world?

He didn’t know that when he avoided you, you took note of him. When he took glances of your features, you memorized his for later in the night when you buried your head in your pillow and pushed your fingers inside your pussy to simulate what it must be like to be with a man.

He was older. That much you knew from his grey hair, sun-damaged skin, and gait that exuded bone-deep weariness. You knew Tommy had just turned fifty. Hard to miss occasions that meant a free slice of cake from the canteen. Joel had to be in his mid-fifties at the very least. At first glance, he wasn’t what you’d consider handsome. There were younger men in town. Fit and muscular. Didn’t groan and scrunch up their faces when they got up. Didn’t have lines on their foreheads. No bags under their eyes.

Yet there was something about Joel that was more entrancing.

After your first meeting when you offered him lemonade, you made sure to visit under the guise of worship. You didn’t know much about religion and were conflicted about embracing a god. The only faith you had rested in your medical instruments and the medicines the town’s chemist concocted. But it was a nice place to meet people, to check on healing patients.

The visits were worth it for a glimpse of Joel’s large hands wrapped around his carpentry tools. When the sun was the hottest, he sometimes stripped down to his tank top, giving you a show better than any film played in the community theater. His broad back looked masculine enough in his flannel shirts. But you didn’t know desire like the first time you saw him in a white tank, showing off his muscular arms as sweat dripped down his tan skin.

When you pleasured yourself in your room, it took time, imagination, your fingers, and a lot of effort to make slick pool in your pussy. That day, all it took was the sight of Joel Miller working. You sat with your thighs pressed together, rubbing them against each other in the most inconspicuous little movements.

Could it be blasphemy if the God who was supposedly orchestrating everything made this man take his shirt off in front of you?

It made no fucking sense. Joel was old. He looked like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed every goddamn day. He had been chewed up and spat out by whatever the fuck was outside Jackson these days. Hardened expressions, graying patchy beard, hands calloused from carpentry and decades of using weaponry. Features that only indicated a long life lived, not attractiveness.

You were supposed to be attracted to the soft, sweet ones like the guys in the worn out copies of romance stories that the previous inhabitant of your house stashed in the basement. Even his little brother would be a more reasonable target for your lust. Younger, taller, softer, head full of dark, silky hair with few grays. But you wanted Joel Miller with his rough graying beard that would prick your skin were you to cup his cheek like the women on the novel covers.

Something about him just screamed Man. Something that none of the other guys in town had. There was nothing wrong with any of the other Jackson men, but none of them made you want to take the plunge and lose your virginity. It wasn’t the lack of offers, per se. You’d gotten looks from many eligible Jackson bachelors. You had drinks with a few of them. Dinner with fewer and shared a kiss with more than one. Alright, two. But anything beyond that had you trembling in anxiety.

It wasn’t anything precious to you, virginity. But you’d waited so long. Focused so long only on survival and then helping to build this town and now training to become a doctor. Whatever passed for doctor these days. With all your life dedicated to everything but your love life, you simply had no experience. What if you messed up and they laughed? You knew anatomy, but that didn’t translate to practical stuff. What if you couldn’t make them feel good? You’d have to see the guy all the damn time in the small town. There would be no escaping the awkwardness.

Sure it was counterintuitive to keep pushing away sexual encounters because you had no experience. But you didn’t know what else to do. You were too old already to not have done anything. But each day that passed with you rejecting perfectly nice men meant you were getting even older for your first time.

You didn’t know where Joel fit into your need for exploring your sexuality, but it didn’t hurt to stare. God knew everyone else in Jackson did.

So you stared. Work with his carpentry tools. Riding on horseback into Jackson after patrol. Helping with the fucking sheep. Walking around with Tommy. Carrying his nephew around town. It should be inappropriate to be fantasizing about a man when he was doing something as innocent as carrying a baby. But seeing his large hand cradling the baby’s little head made you want to scream into your pillow and kick your legs.

“You alright, sweetheart?”

Your heart fluttered and you let out a nervous laugh at being caught. You smoothed out the wrinkles on your clothes just to make it look like you were alright. Unfortunately you were wearing a pair of fucking jeans. You didn’t even want to know how awkward you looked.

“‘m alright, Mister Miller.”

“Joel’s fine,” he said, rocking his nephew in his arms.

Oh fuck, his fucking arms!

“Oh I don’t know,” you said, fidgeting with a belt loop on your jeans. “Wouldn’t want to be impolite addressing you by your first name like that.”

He smiled, recalling your conversation from the house of worship when you called him Sir and had him fucking himself in the shower to the memory. “Ah. ‘cause I’m an old man,” he said, more as a reminder to himself to fucking behave.

“You’re not that old…” you trailed, looking him over in a way that set fire to every inch of skin that you laid eyes on.

Behave, Miller. You’re out with your nephew.

“That so?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“Mhmm. You don’t look a day over seventy.”

He snorted, making Miles stir in his arms just a little. That stung a little. It shouldn’t. Your estimation of his age, whether you were serious or not, was reminder enough that he was too old to be lusting after you.

“Thanks. I’m actually eighty-two.”

You giggled your pretty little giggle, lowering your gaze to the ground and looking back up only when it had turned into a wide grin. “How old are you actually?”

“Old. Fifty six.”

“Fifty-six isn’t that old…” you trailed as you brought a hand up to his bicep. Joel gulped, praying to the non-existent God that you would stop before praying to the same God that you would keep your hand right there. God answered his second prayer. You squeezed, licked your lips and looked up at him with your doe eyes.

“Checking if the hardware is still working, Doctor?”

“I’m not a doctor yet.”

“When do you become one then? Ain’t no Harvard handing out medical degrees in this town.”

“Howard?” you asked, squinting at him. Ah, of course you didn’t know. Harvard didn’t mean the same thing to you. Now it was just like every other building in Boston. Run over by infected. These ones were just the nerdy kind with glasses on.

“That was a thing, too. But I said Harvard. They were big universities back then.”

“Ah. Did you go there?” You asked, with no malice or bite. Oh, bless your heart. No one expected a dummy like him to have gone to university at all, much less Harvard. No one in his family had gone. Sarah was meant to be the first.

“Yeah. Traded some oxy and threw molotovs at clickers in the campus.”

You rewarded him with a giggle and that was incentive enough for him to keep going. “Guys like me didn’t get into Harvard. Or Howard. Didn’t even go to community college. I finished high school and got a job in construction.”

“You didn’t go to uh…construction college?” You asked, cocking your head and raising an eyebrow as though testing out the term.

“No such thing. Well, there were civil engineering programs, but I just learned on the job.”

“Like me.”

“Guess so. I see you reading from all those fat medical books. But there’s no need to study any books in construction. ‘cept if you wanna be an engineer or architect or something, which I’m not.”

“Maybe you should write one. We could all do with some knowledge from before. It’s important to document it, pass it on to Ellie and little Miles over there.”

“I ain’t writing books, sweetheart. Don’t think I even remember how to write much. I’ll just keep to fixing things up in this town. So, if you need some help with your place…I’m happy to help.” It was the least he could do. Maybe as some kind of penance for having impure thoughts about you. Or as a fucked up trade for starring in the mental images he conjured to jack off in the shower.

“There is something, actually. But I don’t have anything to trade for, so I’ll wait until I do,” you said, clasping your hands behind your back and swaying in place in an endearing manner.

“Nonsense. You patched me up just last week. You’ve done enough for the town’s health to not have to trade for anything ever again.”

“Well, no. That’s not how it should be… It’s people’s health. Can’t put a price on that.”

“Believe it or not, health had a steep price back in the day. Cost four thousand something just to give birth. Double that if they had to cut you open.” And that was just how much it cost when Sarah was born. He was sure it had only gone up by 2003. If he hadn’t worked his ass off, there was no way he could’ve escaped debt. It helped that his Ma and his then wife’s parents helped with childcare. Would’ve been even more expensive without that.

“Damn. I don’t know how much that is, since…y’know we don’t have money now. But that sounds like a big number. It shouldn’t cost anything just to be born.”

“Tell me about it,” he said, shaking his head. “But listen. Anything you want fixed, I’ll help out. You can give me something later if you’re worried. I know Ellie’s always on the look for new books to read and you seem to have a lot of them.”

“Nothing Ellie would like. Not like the special limited edition of Savage Starlight or anything. Just medical textbooks and romance novels.”

“We could trade for the lemonade from that afternoon,” he insisted, desperate to do something for you. Take care of you as you took care of everyone who walked into the clinic be it papercuts or a fucking knife in their abdomen.

“Alright. Trade for the lemonade it is then,” you said, giving in to his pressure.

“Now tell me. What d’ya need fixed?”

⌘⌘⌘

It had been a few days since Joel promised to fix your shower for you. Each time he came by and rang your doorbell, you hid somewhere away from your windows. When he caught sight of you in public, you quickly walked away or engaged in conversation with someone else. You didn’t need shit fixed. Everything in your house was perfectly alright. Tommy and his guys had given the place a complete makeover just a couple months before Joel and Ellie arrived.

You were no paragon of honesty, but you didn’t make lying a habit. There were a few white lies here and there and this was meant to be one of them. It just didn’t fucking hit you that if you lied to a contractor that your shower was broken, he would eventually come over to fucking fix it. All your desperate sex starved brain wanted that day was for Joel Miller to come use his tools in your room and flex those muscles while at it.

So invested were you in that particular fantasy that as you unwound after a long shift at the clinic, it was with Joel’s beefy arms in mind. You stood in front of your mirror, taking in your reflection. One of the magazines you’d found in a box under your bed laid open on the dressing table. Playboy. Entertainment for Men. Each had a scantily clad woman on the cover. And many more inside.

You made comparisons to yourself and the woman in the center page of the issue.

She stood in front of a dressing table too, but much different from how you stood. Her legs were on either side of her dressing table chair and her hands on the top of it. Between her arms were breasts, big and round and with smooth skin. They didn’t have any marks on them like yours. No moles, no stretch marks. Just plain. And she just stood there, soft brown hair down, tickling the top of her breasts and her lips parted as she gazed at you. No, at the men she was meant to entertain in this men’s entertainment magazine. All she had on was panties that went high up to her flat belly that connected to high transparent socks.

You reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, wishing that you had something nicer like the woman on the cover of another one of the magazines. Bright red and showing off her breasts wonderfully, but pulled down to reveal almost everything. What was the point of a bra then if it didn’t cover or support anything? Entertainment, you decided. Men seemed to be very entertained by breasts.

Many a man had stared at yours even though you had them behind layers of fabric unlike the naked women of the magazines. Many had conversations with them instead of your face. Some brushed up against them ‘accidentally’. Joel thought he was being covert, but you felt his brown eyes rove all over them. You thought maybe that he too would brush up against it sometime, but he never did. Maybe entertainment stopped at just looking, as in the magazines.

You wondered if Joel sought out men’s entertainment magazines like this. He was from before everything went to shit, so it was very possible that he did. Did he like the women in these pages, sticking their asses out and looking through the pages at him? Would he be entertained if he saw you like this?

You didn’t know that if you turned your head to your bedroom door, you would have your answer. Joel’s cock strained against his already tight jeans as he stood awestruck by your figure. He swallowed as you held on to the top of the chair and lifted your knees, one after the other and placed them on the plush seat. You arched your back, a little too much at first before reducing the curve. Your ass stuck out enticingly and he didn’t know whether to grab, squeeze, slap, or spread your cheeks apart and fuck your ass.

He should leave.

It was stupid of him to walk into your house with a box of plumbing tools to fix your shower when you hadn’t yet given him a date or time for it. Plus you were avoiding him. Running away with your little friends and picking up stuff to hide your face from his view. He was plenty sure that when he’d rung your doorbell, you weren’t always away from home.

He should leave.

Fixing the shower could wait. He could confront you some other day.

But you were putting on such a pretty little show in nothing but your panties and he was only a man. A bad one.

His boots stayed put on your hardwood floors as you enjoyed yourself in front of the mirror. You spread your knees and let your fingers between your thighs, eyes closed, lips parted and low whines escaping your lips in just a few minutes. He palmed his growing erection over his jeans, consequences of being caught be damned. He was a foul beast already. What bad was another sin on the list? Besides, you were the one who’d left the fucking door open.

Your soft whimpers grew into moans as you brought yourself closer and he forced his feet to stay put despite their urge to walk up to you and give you something to really moan about.

“Fuu– mmm Joel, pleeease.”

He let out a gasp, all his restraint flying out the window as soon as he heard his name from your lips. You couldn’t actually be doing this… There had to be another Joel in town. Younger, better looking, smarter.

Your voice grew needy and the pitch higher as you kept at it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Gimme it, Sir.”

No, it couldn’t be anyone else.

Joel toed his boots off and took quiet steps towards you, emboldened by the filth that spilled from your lips. If this old man was what you wanted, he wouldn’t stop himself from reaping the benefits. He wasn’t a goddamn saint. Never was.

He stopped in front of you, surprised you still hadn’t sensed his presence. As though the universe heard his thoughts, it had you open your eyes. You gasped as soon as you saw him and buckled off the chair, but Joel caught you. You shuddered, unable to cope with the sudden touch.

“J-Joel?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he said, touching your cheek with the back of his hand. You whined, your body molding itself against his chest. You brought a hand to his arm, feeling the rock hard muscles underneath his sleeves and your other hand worked between your legs.

Your fingers no longer felt adequate as you felt his large fingers on your cheek. “Want you, please,” you whined, desperate to return to the edge where you had been right before you saw him.

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me…” he spoke dangerously, soft brown eyes clouded with a kind of desire you had longed to see in him for weeks.

“Want you…want you to be with me,” you repeated stupidly, your desperation clouding your senses too much for you to say anything else. While in the past you only wanted to get rid of your virginity, your goals had become more specific with his arrival. You wanted him. You wanted his big hands and broad shoulders, to hold on to them as you rode him. To watch his grumpy expressions turn to ecstasy under you.

“Tell me not to touch you,” he said, his tone low and almost threatening. Any other threat from him, you would’ve heeded. But not this one.

“Touch me!”

It was as though something in him snapped at your words. While darkness only loomed over him before, it now completely took over.The hand that previously only caressed your cheek now wrapped itself around your neck. Before you could completely process the move, his other hand slapped yours away. He replaced two of your puny fingers with his middle finger, eliciting a strained moan from you.

“Touching yourself to a Playboy magazine, huh?”

You only nodded, unable to form words now that a fantasy of yours had finally come to life.

“Dirty little thing…Thought you were a nice girl and all. Helpin’ out at the clinic, head buried in books all the time. Turns out you actually got your head in dirty magazines.”

You whined, your pussy clenching and gushing around his finger at the way he was speaking to you. The same man who insisted on calling you Ma’am despite your protests was calling you a dirty girl now. The veil of respectability seemed to have floated away at the sight of you naked and pleasuring yourself. Had you known that this was all you needed to get Joel Miller to touch you, you would’ve done it much sooner.

He added another finger, the girth of him enough to stretch you more than you had done for yourself. You brought a hand up to his shoulder and fisted his shirt, needing something to anchor yourself to.

“You ever been taken by a man, sweetheart?” He asked, his tone too cool and casual for what he was doing to you. You shuddered, partly from his phrasing– taken, he said. Taken. Like you were a thing. Like the women in the magazines positioned so uncomfortably just so their breasts could look a certain way for the picture. Printed on the cover page with the words Entertainment for Men written on top. You shook your head, feeling small as you confessed it for the first time.

“Any man?”

“N-no,” you managed to breathe out, whimpering at the way the bulge beneath his jeans twitched at your simple answer. He took a step to position himself behind you, letting you lean your back against his chest. The angle at which he touched your pussy changed, opening your world up to a wonderful new kind of pleasure.

“A virgin. Pretty young things like you ain’t for men like me,” he whispered in your neck, making you shiver. His thumb roamed between your legs as far as they could reach, caressed you gently, his softness with you contradicting his warning about men like him. The hand around your neck slithered down your torso, cold air forcing you to face your new desire of having your breath kept hostage.

He took your left breast in hand, squeezing the flesh like someone starved would hold on to a piece of bread. It felt more like a punctuation to the warning he issued than a part of sex. Just then, his thumb between your legs stopped its search, stopping a little above the fingers inside you.

A moan you didn’t recognize as yours at first filled the room and you buckled forward. Blunt nails sunk into the flesh of your breast as he saved you before you could fall. He hauled you back up, making you collide against his chest.

You gasped and quickly grabbed the hand between your legs, the sensation too intense for you to know what to do with. His thumb kept on, rolling over something there that set your person on fire.

“Fuuuck! Joel– I– I– hnnng–”

“I know, sweetheart,” he crooned, keeping at whatever the hell he was doing to make you feel this way.

“Please… I don’t– what was that?”

You felt his chest rumble before you heard his laughter. Heat rose to your face and your throat felt strained though there was no hand around it anymore.

“Never touched your clit? Do you even know what that is?” He mocked, the cruelty somehow not repelling you from him. He forced you to look up at him. Your heart lurched at how close you were to his face. You could see every gray hair, every minute blemish and line.

“Don’t know your own fucking body but you want a man? You don’t know what you’re handing me on a silver platter. I ain’t like the other guys in town. I walked across the fucking country and lemme tell ya, there’s no pretty things like you out there. I’m starved.”

“Take me, then,” you begged, using his own words from earlier. “Please. Whatever you– a-aaah!”

He ramped up the pressure on that spot– your clit– and with it, took your ability to speak coherently. It was as though he’d done it on purpose. You hated it. To be so bereft of control. To be a puppet in someone’s hand. For someone to acquaint themselves with parts of you that you didn’t know of. But it was too much to fight, so you let go. Let him play with you. Take you. Like a thing.

You renounced control of your lips too, his name slipping out effortlessly like it did when he caught you. Then you renounced what was left of your dignity and began begging relentlessly. For what, you didn’t know. In his hand, you’d gone from woman to pupper, your strings pulled by a man, your voice now his. Sounds that would be indiscernible from that of a wounded animal emanated from somewhere deep within you.

Perhaps none of this was real. Why else did your own voice grow so distant from you? Why did your vision become blurry? Your thighs shook uncontrollably and your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. Your eyes clenched shut, depriving you of your blurred vision. Your toes curled. You wanted to shrink into yourself, shrink away from all this goodness. You went higher and higher, soaring like a bird. Every nerve ending in your body felt electrified, awoken like one switch turned on every light on last winter’s Christmas tree.

You let out a loud cry, the soaring bird in you reaching its peak before beginning its fall to the ground. You could hear your breaths again, labored but doing everything to stabilize itself. Your thighs still shook. Your chest rose and fell. A hand caressed your hand. Behind you, something strong supported your back. Kept you from falling backward.

“Joel…”

“I know, I know…” he whispered into your head. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, surprised to see a softer visage. He picked you up off the chair like you’d seen him lift giant logs before. With ease. You didn’t protest as he carried you. Didn’t protest when he laid you out on your bed.

He bent down and picked something up. No questions, no instructions. He simply spread your leg away from the other. Cold air touched the gushing mess dripping out of you and you shivered, feeling a sudden need to cover yourself but unable to defy him. His hand was on your pussy again. His hardened, calloused fingers behind a soft fabric this time. He wiped upwards, collecting the mess he made out of you. When he lifted the fabric up, you realized it was your panties.

He tucked it into the pocket of his jeans and then looked back at your face, the intensity of his gaze making you want to run. Problem was your weak legs wouldn’t take you anywhere. You didn’t screw your eyes shut. You didn’t pull your blanket to conceal yourself. You looked back at him, defiant. Like you were trying to prove something. I can handle a man like you.

“Be a good girl from now.”

That and a condescending pat on your pussy and he was gone.

⌘

Part 2

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x oc #joel miller x original character #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller age gap #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #all that i've inflicted on the world

2K notes · View notes

predestinatos · 1 month

Text

you mean everything - MV1 ೀ⋆｡🌷

summary: max needed a wedding date and you were used to being his fake partner.

tags: max verstappen x fem!reader, fake dating, friends to lovers, max is so whipped, fluff, a bit angsty maybe?, mentions of alcohol

word count: 2k

notes: i've been writing (and thinking) so much about max... my period is coming please give me a break i'm sensitive. also would love to get some feedback if possible so i know if it's worth making a series out of this!!!!

"If you want to make it believable at least hold my hand" you half-whispered to Max, who was buttoning his blazer while getting out of the car, you behind him.

"Sorry, I'm not used to this with you" he said chuckling. His sweaty palm held yours tightly, and the feeling of it was odd. Knowing Max for so long meant that these romantic gestures felt almost cringeworthy to you both, and you both had to put up award winning performances every time you played this game.

The game in question being fake-dating. It started as a funny joke where you both thought it would be great to test out the Get A Champagne Bottle For Free At This Restaurant If You Propose theory (which worked, by the way). From then onwards, you used each other as dates whenever asked by annoying family members, creepy coworkers, or just because you felt like lying.

The talking wasn't hard - you both felt comfortable in that part, lying with words coming off almost dangerously natural - but when it came to acting the part, both of you felt awkward, like kids who found relationships absolutely repulsive.

This time, though, the performance would last longer than usual: it was a wedding. Max's friend's wedding. Max could've just gone along, or bring a friend (even you as a friend). Yet he had told his friend, after one too many shots on his Bachelor's Party, and after being chosen as The Guy Who'll Take the Longest to Settle, that he had, in fact, a girlfriend. His friends didn't believe him, so he showed a picture of you two together - a selfie really, nothing much. And they still said they didn't believe it. So here you are.

You couldn't blame him, even if you wanted to. You agreed to use each other as a fake partner for as long as you could in as many situations as required, although when it all started none of you ever thought it would lead to wedding attendances.

So now there you were, Max's hand on yours, entering the small church. His eyes locked with the groom, who waved and called for you to sit near the altar.

"So you ARE real" he said, nervousness laced in his voice even as he tried to lighten the mood himself. You giggled at the irony of it, nodding as you said your congratulations.

"Just wait until the guys see this" he continued gesturing towards the bench where 3 other men around his age sat. Men you had seen before in some Instagram pictures, men you spent the previous night trying to memorize basic information about so you didn't sound suspicious.

Max's hand now fell on your waist almost instinctively - it wasn't instinctively, he told himself once he noticed its positioning. And if it was, it was only because he took this so seriously, almost as a sort of method acting. Sitting down next to his friends, he noticed how all of them seemed surprised at your presence, and something like pride filled his chest. He loved winning, loved being right even if he was lying; but most especially, he loved how jealous other men seemed to be over the fact that he was (at least in their minds) dating you.

He couldn't deny - though he tried, really - that you two looked good together. His rougher features mixed with your softer ones gave you both an aura of near unreachability, which yes, was pretentious of him to think but he thought nevertheless.

The ceremony was quick and endearing, a smile spread across everyone's faces at the shared loved between the bride and the groom. As the crowd clapped, Max leaned into you, "don't tell me you're crying". "I am, just to think that I'll have to keep pretending to date YOU for the next 10 hours" you replied, his mocking smile recognizing the joke.

The reception hall was beautifully decorated with shades of soft green and violet orchids. Max tried not to think about how much it matched the shade of your dress, how you looked like you had come to life from a classical novel. He tried to feel like anyone but Mr. Darcy as you felt so much like Elisabeth Bennett to him.

Sitting down next to him, you found this part easier - mingling and socializing was something you enjoyed more than he did - especially with alcohol in the mix. It's a wedding, you thought; this is what weddings are for.

So you drank the wine with the main course and sipper champagne to celebrate and ordered a few cocktails when it was time to dance and talk - and you felt it on your body almost as much as you felt Max's hand occasionally sitting on your thigh, but not even close to how strongly you felt his thumb caress your skin as he did so. Truth was, he too was drunk; his eyes looked smaller and his cheeks were flushed, and the amount of times he ran a hair through his dirty blonde hair had caused it to look messier. As you looked at him, you felt he never looks as attractive as when he is like this - loose and carefree, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a smile on his face when he notices people laugh at his joke.

"I have to admit I didn't think it was true" his friend said when Max left to go to the bathroom. He looked drunker than the two of you combined, his words hard to decypher, like a riddle. "He's been talking about you for months now and we never saw you for real so we thought you didn't exist" he laughed, and you laughed back before it registered.

"Months?" you asked him, eyebrows furrowed yet attempting to remain composed. You shouldn't have asked it - a supposedly month old girlfriend wouldn't be surprised but you were his fake month old girlfriend and you weren't understanding it anymore.

"Yeah. He talks about you so much all the time I think even we started to date you" he laughed again, yet this time you didn't find the joke so funny. You were frozen in your seat, merely blinking as if trying to put the confusing puzzle together, the pieces not quite fitting the way you thought they would.

A touch on your shoulder unfroze you, almost like magic, like a disney film come to life. You turned around to find the groom, somewhat sober, smiling at you while also looking somewhat concerned. "He's calling for you... And he's also absolutely wasted" he said, pointing to the door of the hall.

"Shit" you cursed, getting up from your seat at a speed you couldn't believe, worry filling your heart, making you forget the conversation you were just having.

Opening the door to the garden outside, you found Max sitting down against the wall, shirt partly unbuttoned and disheveled hair. When he saw you, he grinned, such genuine happiness laced with tipsiness.

"Lightweight" you mocked as you crouched in front of him, trying to balance yourself on your heels, somehow managing it despite your own drunkness.

"You're laughing at my mis- Shit- my misery" his throat bobbed up and down, exaggerating his own agony with a hand on his chest and another on his forehead like a Shakespeare character.

"I have to admit it's quite fun sometimes" you bit your lip as you fixed his hair as best as you could, hands brushing through its soft, blonde mess.

"You're so– you're so sweet" he said, his words dragged and messy. He brought a beer bottle to his lips but you stopped him before any liquid touched them.

"I think that's enough of that for tonight" you grabbed it and placed it behind you, sitting in front of him.

"See now... Now you're being mean" his hand grabbed a strand of your hair and played with it softly as he pouted.

"Okay big boy I'm gonna get you some water" you say, getting up once again, yet his hand stops you, grabbing your wrist tightly.

You looked at him, startled. His drunken state is visible, and it felt frustrating that you had to be the one sobering up for him. The music vibrated through the wall he leaned against, somehow tickling him, making him giggle.

"Stay," he managed to say, eyes half closed, "I'm so glad we're- Fuck things are spinning so much" his hands rushed to his eyes and his head hung low, "Ah fuck. I'm so glad we're datin- Fuck, no, oops-" he continued laughing despite how sick he felt, the whole situation sounding hilarious when filtered through alcohol.

You giggled along with him, mostly because you wanted to see if you could convince him to move, scared he might feel worse or pass out on the cold floor if he doesn't do so. "Fake dating. Fake dating, I know. I knowww" he continued, his words dragged and his finger pointing at you before poking your nose with such innocent sweetness you were taken aback.

"Max" you tried to sound more assertive but found it hard to do so, your own intoxicated state making the situation lighter than what it actually was. Your heart racing was a symptom of it, one you wouldn't feel if sobriety was an option, you thought. Max's eyes wouldn't seem to stare at you differently were he sober as well, and the way he scanned your features, his gaze staying on your lips for longer than expected, wouldn't affect you in the slightest had you not drank some alcohol.

"I like it when you say my name" he looked up at you innocently, pleading, almost.

"Want me to say it again?" you asked, smiling. You complied with these demands because you knew they were childish whims of an intoxicated man, his happiness a priority in times like these. Upon his nod, you started saying his name, half teasingly, half reassuringly, the leaves rustling in the garden behind you.

"Max... Max!! Max Max-"

He shouldn't. It would complicate things, and he liked when they were simple, clean and organized. He knew he shouldn't even when his whole vision spun and his brain convinced him that he should do things he would never do otherwise. But every time he refrained from saying something he would stumble across all his words and trip and fall and his head would only hurt more, and it seemed as if he could only focus if he kept listening to you and talking to you and looking at you.

The lights shone behind you in a way that made it feel as though he was dreaming, like you were a mirage, too good to be true. Maybe his friends were right - you weren't actually real. He wanted to be sure, in that moment. That you were real and that he wanted you as much as he thought. And though he shouldn't, though it was a terrible idea, he couldn't help but lean over to kiss you.

He tasted like champagne - bubbly and slightly sweet, his movements sloppy given his state, yet you couldn't help but drink it all in. Part of you - a big part - reciprocated the kiss, felt his fingers on the side of your neck, pulling you messily towards him, and tried to steady him, guiding him gently with your own lips.

It was odd, how this felt so right yet the fake hand holding didn't. As Max kissed you, that thought entered his clouded mind - did it feel wrong because it was fake and this was real? Your skin felt so soft, so much softer now he could touch it freely and unapologetically.

"Fuck-" he started, pulling away, his head resting against the wall once again as he stared at you, noticing how it hasn't hit you yet; what you just did, how it affected everything. "I fucking love you" he shrugged as you fixed your hair, pausing with arms raised for a few seconds before smiling softly.

"You're drunk" you replied, looking at his own grin, the gleam in his eyes making him appear both innocent and guilty of so many things.

"I'm drunk and I fucking love you"

"Max..." you started, and he said your name back to you with such tenderness you couldn't believe his lips tasted of alcohol earlier and not something sweet.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" you continued, waiting for the silence to swallow you both.

1K notes · View notes

medium-rare-bimbo · 9 months

Text

Mean! Perv! Billy Hargrove x innocent! Pastor daughter! Reader

♡masterlist♡

MINORS DNI

Contains: Dub con, somnophilia near the end

༺*:ﾟ･✧･:*:ﾟ･♡ readmore ♡･ﾟ:*:･✧･ﾟ:*༻

♡ He would see you around town with your short dresses and the rosary hanging around your neck

♡ he thought you were so cute but you stayed away from him like the plague, your father told you all about billy hargrove how he was a womanizer, too consumed by lust, how he was no good.

♡ you had never actually spoken to billy, you had made eye contact a few times but you would quickly run off, that is until he was dragged to your father's church by his dad

♡ there he saw you standing near your mother at the front of the church, while your father gave a speech about something he didnt care about. He watched your doe eyes wonder around the church paying more attention to the stained glass windows

♡ he came up to you as everyone was talking, he stalked behind you noticing you were nervously playing with your fingers as if you didnt know what to do with your hands. You jumped when you felt his breathe on your neck

♡ shocked to see billy Hargrove of all people behind you, he cornered you against the wall trapping you from escaping.

"I- um cant talk right now m-my dad is probably wondering where I am I have to go-"

"Hold your horses princess, I just want to talk about our lord and saviour"

"You can talk to my dad he- um he knows a lot more than me"

♡ he somehow manages to keep you talking to him, enough to get you to ramble and prolong the conversation

"That is a lovely dress, it looks so beautiful you"

"Thanks my mom got it for me- actually she gets all my clothes, I'm not allowed to buy myself clothes without her permission- BUT I- i dont mind, I like what she picks out, makes me look nice a-and I dont like choosing things I'm very indecisive and I would probably be there all day so I'm actually happy she chooses my clothes because-"

♡ he simply stares at you while you talk not interrupting simply listening to you speak. He knows he makes you nervous, the way your eyes dart everywhere except his is laughable

♡ unfortunately the conversation is cut short by your father and his dad

"Billy hargrove, come to make a mockery out of my daughter?"

"No sir I've actually seen the light, your daughter was just telling me about you gorgeous church and how much of a loyal man you are to god. Honestly sir I have so much respect for you"

"I- well thank you- I've been doveted to our lord for as long as I remember it's nice for someone to finally acknowledge my efforts. I'm happy to help you find your way to god and banish those demons for good, your father and I were just talking about hanging out at my house perhaps you can come along, I'm sure Y/N is happy to help you with your journey"

"That would be lovely sir"

♡ who knew it sould be so easy to get access to you when he fuel your father's ego?

♡ the next week billy happily went over to your house, you were sat at the dining room table with a bible infront of you as well as some other books and sheets once again refusing to make eye contact with him as your father lead him to you.

♡ you meekly asked him a few questions about how much he knew and where he would like to start off on

"Wherever you would like doll"

♡ billy didnt pay attention to anything you were saying this time, too busy looking at the photos around your house and the decor. He only looked back at you when stumbled over your words and looked like you were on the verge of tears

"What's wrong sweetheart? You okay?"

"I- um I just dont think I'm the person you should be doing this with- i- I dont know why my dad put you up to this- I've never done this before I dont know what I'm doing"

♡ he smiled as tears rolled down your cheeks, your lips forming a pout which sent a shock down to his forming hard on. He placed his hand on your thigh causing you jolt

"That's okay, you're doing so good for me already. I already feel like a worthy man"

♡ you placed your hand on top of his, playing with his fingers as he massaged circles into your soft skin.

♡ he slid his hands further between your thighs, now feeling up your flesh and slowly making his way to the flower in between your legs

"Y-you cant do that you shouldnt be touching there- I- were not married- I'm going to go to hell if you do that-"

♡ you made no actual attempt at removing his hand, simply holding his wrist as he stared at you smirking, he glanced around to see if anyone was near.

"You're not going to hell it's not like we're doing anything against the lords rules, I'm just touching you. It cant be bad if it feels good, can it?"

♡ he grazes his lips over yours letting you smell the cigarettes and mint gum on his breathe, soon removing himself from you and turning to the table as the adults walk in

"Everything going okay In here?"

"Absolutely sir, Y/N here was just telling me about easter"

♡ your meetings soon became a scheduled event and nothing else had happened since that first meeting

♡ that was until your father had left you alone with billy, a horrible mistake on his part

♡ when he first noticed the quietness in the house he was worried he got the wrong date that is until you meekly walked out of the shadows and lead him to your usual spot at the dining table

"Where's your parents?"

"Hes out with your dad I- i think they're fishing.."

"What about your mom?"

"Shes at her book club..."

♡ the giddiness in billy was comparable to a child on Christmas. over the weeks he had gained your trust, convincing you that he was serious about god

♡ so when he suggesting going to your room instead you agreed (although hesitantly)

♡ walking into your room he immediately noticed the cross hanging above your canopy bed which was pushed against the wall. The curtains around it almost highlighted your sleeping area.

♡ he quickly noticed how embarrassed you were, perhaps it was the stuffed toys, or the light colours, or the photos on the walls?

♡ you ushered him on the bed quickly preferring him to not stare at the immature state of your bedroom, although you would prefer posters of your favourite singers, pictures of your friends you were unable to at wishes of your father

♡ much like your first meeting billy let's you ramble, his eyes focused on your lips, he isnt sure what you're talking about especially when you bite your lip when reading out your notes

"Have you ever kissed someone before?"

♡ the question makes you choke on your breathe, whipping your head to face him. spluttering out a sentence

"What?! Why would you ask me that?! I- cant kiss anyone- I- I'll be in so much trouble- I'm not allowed to kiss anyone-"

"Would you like to?"

♡ that quickly shut you up as you looked up at him, he tilts his head at you and moves closer to you, his breath making goosebumps rise on your skin

♡ he kisses your unresponsive lips, too shocked at what is happening to kiss back (not that you knew how)

♡ when he pulled back you were staring at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. He grabbed your stuff and set it on your vanity, his hand traveled to your side and pushed you on your back

♡ he towered over you, your breath hitching in your throat, his arms either side of your head. He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, it took a while for you to relax and try to follow his movements but you eventually got the hang of it.

♡ just as the man himself things got rough quickly, his hand in your hair and his tongue entering your mouth. You melted against him wrapping your arms around Billys shoulders

♡ when you broke apart for air your lips were puffy and swollen, billy was looking no better his hair was disheveled and his eyes were half lidded.

♡ he kissed the side of you face travelling to your jaw then towards your neck, where you gripped his shirt as he licked a stripe over your neck.

♡His hands wondered down to your chest, pulling your sundress down to reveal your bra to him

"Wait! Wait wait I- billy i cant- we shouldnt be doing this we should stop"

"Sh sh shhh just take what I give you"

♡ his hands continued their exploring, flipping your bra to reveal your soft nipples, leaning down his breath soon hardened them making you whimper

♡ he kissed your right nipple while rolling the left in his hand, the hand unattended drifted down your thighs and under your dress

"Billy stop- we cant do this i- I- I'm gonna get into s'much trouble"

"It cant be wrong if it feels good baby"

♡ he continues kissing and fondling your breasts, his hand slipping to your underwear pressing a thumb against your clothed clit making you jolt your hips with a loud whine.

♡ he chuckled against your chest moving his face to meet yours

"That feel good? Want me to do it again?"

"I dont know- I dont know! Feels weird.."

♡ he kissed your mouth and let's his other hand wander to your thighs. he pulls back to get a full view of you, your thighs spread, your lips puffy, your tits out. A sight that would make the devil groan, which is what he did.

♡ he plays with your thighs and your clothed cunt, soon sliding the piece of fabric to the side to get a better view of your forbidden fruit. He watches as your fluids leak from you, clamping around nothing and clit twitching from the harsh temperature of the room

♡ he places his thumb over your clit watching you jerk against him, clearly not used to stimulation, he circles around it then leans down pressing a kiss against it (maybe a quick suck too)

♡ the action makes you cry

"Billy 'is dirty"

♡ he slides with finger in you, the heat and tightness of your body almost making him cum in his pants. You're mewling underneath him and he gives you feelings you've never experienced

♡ his fingers work you open aiming to make sure you're able to fit his cock. When he pulls pants down to his thighs and grips his cock, your eyes are wide and full of second thoughts. Being the gentlemen he is he grabs your hand and makes you feel it

"S'hot, 'n it feels weird"

"Supposed to be hot gonna make you all warm"

"S'not gonna fit, your fingers felt too much, cant take this.."

"Cant take my cock?"

"Dont say that! That's dirty!"

♡ he drags his cock head over your clit, the heat of it shutting you up.

"I'll make it fit baby"

♡ he pulls your thighs apart and wraps his arm around your head, his body encapsulates yours as he pressed his cock inside of you. The stretch hurts and leaves you grabbing as much as billy as you can, he whispers praises to the side of your neck as he desperately tries to hold back.

♡ after an intense 5 minutes of him rubbing your clit and getting you to relax he starts thrusting, soft and slow but soon picking up as you unconsciously buck you hips into his. Your bed shook and you cried into his neck as he defiled you for any other man

"That feel good?"

"Ah- Feels big! 'Feel so full ngh- too full!"

"Yeah? Ya think your god would like this?"

"Gon' be In so much trouble billy"

"Ngh fuck- I'll be your god baby, I'll never get mad at you- fucking take it for me- you'll be my most devoted follower, c'mon say I'm your god, say it, say it for me baby 'n I'll make you feel so good c'mon say it"

"My god- y- your my god"

"Good girl, fuck-"

♡ as you reached orgasm you tried to push him off telling him that you were gonna pee, luckily for him you werent strong especially when you were getting your beliefs banged out.

♡ you came with a wail wrapping your legs around his waist, trapping him inside you, his hips stuttering as he came inside you.

♡ thus a sneaky beautiful relationship began

♡ hed take you for dates at his favourite cafe ordering milkshakes then stealing the cherry placed on top of yours then making jokes about once again "stealing your cherry"

♡ he steals your underwear especially when hes been teasing you all day, he likes the juices you leave behind, likes sucking on them, cumming on them, keeping them for himself and returning them soiled

♡ let's you come to the pool after hours just so he can fuck you in the water

♡ definitely buys you thin white bikinis just so he can see what's underneath when they get wet

♡ has grabbed a lollipop from your lips and pretended to fuck your mouth with it, you're none the wiser and assume he wants you to get the most flavour out it

♡ touches you in church and whispers how gross you are

"You're disgusting, really letting me touch you in the house of god?"

♡ flips up your skirt all the time, he blames the wind even if theres no breeze.

♡ he had dinner with your parents and had his fingers knuckle deep inside you the entire time, liking your juices if his fingers when dessert came out

♡ comes in through you window just so he can see you without prying eyes, he either wakes you up like a normal person or he wake you up by eating you out/ fingering you

♡ has had phone sex with you multiple times, he treats it like a confession booth and hes mostly degrading you the entire time

"You're fucking disgusting thinking about my cock, you're supposed to be a child of god" - says the man with your panties wrapped around his cock

♡ has gotten you drunk before and made you grind on his foot while you suck along his cock

♡ chokes you with your rosary when hes fucking you from behind, pulls on it like a leash

♡ taught you how to masturbate by sitting you infront of a mirror and touching you, you never fully learnt because billy has no self control

♡ bites you in places that arent visible to your parents, says you've been bitten by the devil

♡ spits in your mouth all the time

#stranger things x reader #billy x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove smut

3K notes · View notes

rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months

Text

purity ring

words: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, reader is virgin and religious, purity rings/waiting until marriage, virginity/innocence kink, female receiving oral, fingering, p in v sex, protected sex <3 (yay! for once!), one scene takes place in a church

you are perfect. an innocent angel, untouched by anyone. you wore a silver purity ring firmly on your finger, gifted to you by your father on your 16th birthday. you don’t take the promise you made that day lightly, and while you have had one serious boyfriend in high school, you have remained abstinent.

rafe overlooked you at first, seeing you as a sweet harmless girl, but didn’t take any real interest until you grew out of your teen years, your body developing without him realizing until he saw you at the beach one day, wearing what would be a modest swimsuit if it wasn’t for you wide hips and large breasts, threatening to spill out even with your high neckline.

rafe took a liking to you right then and there. he knows how pure you are, how you are a proud virgin and don’t partake in any of the partying or drinking like most of the people your age, even though you are over 21. it may be legal, but you always say it doesn’t feel right, and only have a bit of wine at dinner on occasions.

“hello.” rafe says as he sits down on the church pew next to you. you give him a confused look. you have never seen rafe at your church before, and you thought that he wasn’t religious, but you are never one to judge, so you wipe the confused look off your face and give him a pleasant smile instead.

“hello, rafe. it’s been a while.” “i know, haven’t really seen you since high school.” he says.

“i don’t think we have the same interests.” you giggle. if you were more into partying, you’re sure you would see rafe a whole lot more often.

“really?” rafe questions. “you didn’t develop a love for golf since we graduated?”

you scoff, shaking your head. rafe smiles at you, and you are surprised to find yourself liking his attention.

“how about mini golf?” he asks. “i could take you after the service. get ice cream too.”

you go to say no, not wanting to hang out with someone as wild and crazy as him, but you remember your vow to god to not judge others, and end up agreeing.

rafe smirks at you when the pastor starts his sermon and you turn your attention away from rafe.

hes sweet throughout the whole date, respectful of your boundaries and chatting with you with seemingly real interest. he asks you when you finish all 18 holes of mini golf if you’d be willing to see him again.

you say yes, which leads to more and more dates until you’re comfortable with rafe, even going as far to officially begin courting him.

you fall head over heels, in love with the attention he gives you until you're kissing in the back seat of his truck, his hands moving all over your body.

“wait, rafe-” you pull away with a gasp. “we can't.”

rafe frowns but nods. he's been progressing the physical touch more and more, trying to get you to open up to him, but every time things start to get hot and heavy, you stop him.

he is determined to change things, especially when he realizes he's lost sight of why he became interested in you in the first place. he wants to claim you, not just court you, and he's quickly falling just as hard.

rafe convinces you to spend the night. a movie marathon and cuddle session. you tell rafe that you need a separate bed to sleep in, but he's hoping to convince you to share one with him.

rafe ignores the movie playing on the tv, his head buried in your shoulder, pressing kisses to your neck.

“rafey.” you giggle and squirm when he sucks a spot onto your neck.

“come on, baby.” rafe begs, moving to kiss your jaw. “haven't i proven how serious i am about us?” he questions, his hand resting on your thigh, pushing it closer to your core. you can't help the moan that escapes your lips, your body betraying your mind.

“just let me make you feel good. you'll love it, i promise.”

you think it over, briefly glancing at the ring on your finger, at the promise you made.

“baby.” rafe cups your hand in his, taking the ring out of your sight as he captures your mouth in a kiss.

he moves so you're laying down against his pillows, covering your body with his, hovering over top of you.

he moves one hand to under your knee, pulling it so you have to wrap it around his waist. rafe keeps kissing you, keeps you breathless and dizzy as he presses his hips into you, letting his hard length rub over your core.

you moan into his mouth, looping your arms around his shoulders.

“please.” rafe says against your lips. you blink your eyes open to meet his bright blue ones. “i love you baby.”

you melt at rafes word, giving him a nod of permission. “i love you too.” you coo.

rafe presses his lips against yours, letting you get lost in the kiss as he continues to grind into you. he can tell from the way your other leg loops around him that you like the feeling a lot.

rafe lets a hand wander underneath your top, feeling the smooth skin of your stomach before moving higher, cupping your breast over your bra.

you reach behind your back and unclip it, letting rafe continue to feel you up as you take the bra off from under your shirt, tugging it away.

rafe grips your breast, toying with your nipple immediately, not letting you think too hard about what he's doing, needing to keep you focused on what new part he's touching.

he makes sure to give both sides of your chest equal attention. he wishes he could pull away from the kiss and rip your shirt off, wanting to see your tits bare, but you keep your arms locked around his shoulders as you kiss.

“baby, i can make you feel even better with my mouth.” rafe says, pressing kisses to your cheek.

“n… no.” you whine. “don't want you to look.” you feel enough shame as it is letting rafe defile you this way, and you certainly aren't confident enough to have him seeing you naked.

“how about i turn the tv off?” rafe offers. the light is already off in the room, and theres only a bit of moonlight peaking through the drawn curtains, the tv providing all the light in the room. you nod as he reaches for the remote, clicking the movie off.

“wait-” you realize that he's forgetting something. “you need to use a condom.” while you may be giving up your virginity to rafe, you certainly will not be letting him get you pregnant before marriage.

“yeah.” rafe fumbles in the dark through his nightstand, pulling a condom out and setting it on the bed for when he's ready.

rafe leaves your shirt on, hoping it will make you feel more comfortable as he tugs on your pajama shorts. it's a bit of a fumble in the dark, but he eventually gets them off.

he reaches for your underwear next, feeling the frilly fabric against his fingers. rafe has to pause before taking them off to squeeze his cock through his pants, needing relief. he's finally so close to his goal, finally close to taking you, to being your first.

“just tell me if anything hurts.” rafe says, taking two fingers and running them through your slit, feeling how wet he's made you.

“rafe!” you shout.

“does it feel good baby?” rafe asks, pressing a finger against your entrance, needing to open you up quickly before he can't control himself and hurts you by forcing his cock inside you too soon.

“yeah, feels really good.” you moan out. rafe moves his thumb to your clit, glad he knows pussies well enough to find it easily in the dark. he let's the sudden overwhelming pleasure take over your mind as he plunges his finger in.

he can't help the groan he lets out when he feels your tightness wrap around his digit. he begins to pump his finger, his thumb continuing to massage your clit, smiling at your nonstop moans. he's sure that you've never even touched yourself before by your reaction.

rafe drops himself onto his stomach between your legs, needing to have your sweetness on his tongue. he swears you taste better as he licks around your folds, knowing that you haven't been sullied by other men.

he moves his thumb in favor of licking at your clit, pushing a second finger into your cunt as soon as he feels a bit of give.

you reach down, gripping rafes hair in your hands. you push his face further into your pussy, his fingers stretching you out when he begins to scissor them.

“can't wait to be inside you.” rafe says, his voice vibrating against your skin.

“want you now.” you tell rafe. you need more than just his fingers pumping into you, need to feel connected in the most intimate way possible.

rafe moves quick, shucking his pajamas and underwear off. his cock is finally freed. he takes your hand in his, wrapping it around his shaft while he kneels against the bed.

you aren't fully sure what to do to make rafe feel good, but you stroke your hand up and down, and judging from the sound rafe makes, it feels good.

rafe can feel your purity ring as you stroke him. he grabs the condom and takes it out of its wrapping, pushing your hand out of the way as he slides the rubber over his cock.

“gonna take you in this position, as long as it feels good.” rafe says, moving back between your legs. he gets a pillow and shoved it under your hips, raising them up and hopefully making it easier for you to take him.

“rafey.” you whine, hand reaching out for his. rafe loops his fingers through yours, using his other hand to line his cock up with your entrance. rafe moves slowly, his breathing heavy and deliberate as he splits you open, his heavy cock touching places no one has ever gone before.

“does it hurt?” rafe asks once he's seated all the way inside of you.

you whine in response, causing rafe to frown. as much as he wants to make you his, he doesn't want to put you in any sort of pain. he leans over your body, pressing his lips to your cheeks.

“im sorry baby, but you're doing so good for me.”

“just-” you gasp when you move your hips a little, making him touch a new part of you. “just give me a minute.”

“take your time.” rafe says. “i love you.” he thought he was just saying it to get you into his bed, but rafe finds himself really meaning it.

you breathe deeply for a minute before pressing your lips to rafes. “you can move now.”

rafe hums against your lips, continuing to kiss you as he begins with gentle thrusts, wanting to build you up. he finds much more patience within himself now that he's been inside of you.

you move your arms back to rafes shoulders, pressing your nails into his back, dragging them down his back when his thrusts increase in tempo.

“scratching me already? what a dirty girl.” rafe chuckles into your ear.

“shh.” you complain, brows scrunching together, not wanting to think about how dirty you are being at the moment, wanting to focus on how good rafe is making you feel rather than the fact that you're letting go of your virtue.

“my innocent little girlfriend, squeezing around my cock.” rafe continues to tease you.

“it feels so good.” you say, as if it's some sort of excuse as to why your cunt is repeatedly pulsing around his dick.

“i know it does baby. your pussy feels so good too. so tight for me, my little virgin.” rafe presses his lips against yours in a kiss. “although i guess you're not a virgin anymore.”

you cry out when rafe presses his thumb back to your clit, whatever response you had brewing cut off as he begins to thrust with earnest now, able to slide in much easier than when he first got inside of you.

“gonna cum for me?” rafe questions. he can tell from the way your body has gone tight that you must be close.

“i-i think so.” you whine, feeling a rush of wetness flood to your pussy, rafes thumb pushing your clit perfectly as your orgasm rushes over your body, a loud moan forcing its way out of your mouth, your entire body shaking with the force.

your cunt is squeezing so tightly rafe almost can't thrust his cock back into you, but he manages to force himself through your walls to release into the condom deep into you, your pussy milking him. you would surely be bred if it wasn't for the thin layer of rubber.

rafe pulls his cock out slowly as you breathe deeply underneath him, coming down from the ecstacy that he just brought you to.

rafe moves to pull his condom off, discarding it in the trash.

“can we put our pajamas back on to sleep?” you ask as rafe begins to get back into bed. he can't help but smile at you, still so shy even after he had his mouth buried between your legs.

“of course.” rafe gives you your underwear and shorts back, eyes adjusted somewhat to the dark, but still not able to make out many details as he redresses himself, but leaves his shirt off.

rafe slides into bed next to you, pulling you in close. you fall asleep almost instantly, which rafe is glad about, not giving you a moment to regret what just happened on a tired brain.

rafe hears your breathing change and grabs your hand, sliding your silver purity ring off your finger. it's his now.

you don't overthink the act when you wake up in the morning, especially when rafe sinks to his stomach and eats you out in the morning light until you cum on his tongue.

you even go as far to thank him for showing you how good sex can be for a couple. you are certain rafe will become your husband, and you suppose you are just starting your martial acts early.

you are walking with rafe through a crowded restaurant the next day. he's treating you to a nice dinner when you realize he has a silver chain hanging off his neck.

you furrow your brow, tugging it out from underneath his shirt, gasping when you realize that your purity ring is hanging around his neck.

“well, it's not like you could keep wearing it.” rafe smirks, leaving the ring out for everyone to see.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre

#rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe cameron x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x female reader

2K notes · View notes

brown-little-robin · 10 months

Text

oh great. I'm being sanctified again.

#hhhhggggg.#🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀#whys it got to be so uncomfortablllle #The holy spirit is like. poking me from all sides #What am I supposed to DO WITH THISSSS 😭#I keep getting told to engage with the world and be a doer of the word and not a hearer only and darn it have a good ATTITUDE >:(#and I'm TRYINGGGG #there are things in my life going that direction!!! I'm going to start volunteering soon!!! I'm making some friends!!!#I'm...... probably going being told to talk to people outside my family at church.......#whys spiritual development got to be SO PHYSICAL THOUGH.... why do I have to be Percieved......#let your light shine and all that I Guess......#this has been your irregularly scheduled reminder that God won't let you sit and sink forever. He pokes you #WITH MY OWN CLOWN WORLD STORY TOO #GOOD SHOT GOD. GOT ME RIGHT IN THE HEART #girl help my story started out as about American poverty and then it became about the multiplying of grace in struggle #and the call to be doers and not just hearers of the word #and divine love and mercy and holiness #like dang that wasn't from me. I was just being mad about America and obsessed with clowns man #and then it got miraculously transformed and stuff #wild #ANYWAY #Robin speaks

23 notes · View notes

togrowoldinv · 8 months

Text

Best Friend’s Mom

Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

You wake up next to your best friend’s mom and she begins to seduce you

Warnings: 18+ please! Smut! Kissing, cursing, oral (R receiving), thigh riding, Wanda being a complete milf

Note: I woke up thinking about this. Enjoy!

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You wake up to the feeling of someone brushing up against you. Her breasts rub against your back as her arm comes around your body.

You’d slept over at your best friend’s house, but this isn’t her. You glance at her hand to see a wedding ring and those hands you would recognize anywhere.

It’s Wanda. Your best friend’s mom. When had she gotten in the bed with you? You try to recount last night’s events but you’re not able to.

Wanda rubs her hand over your arm. You turn slightly in her embrace to look at her.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Wanda says. She’s acting like this is completely normal.

“Hey Ms. Maximoff,” you say. You’re quite dumbfounded by the whole thing.

But god, she looks so beautiful in the mornings. You’ve had a crush on her for years, but that always seemed childish to you. She was never going to like you back or risk her relationship with her daughter to be with you. Plus, she was a church going lady. She wouldn’t ever go for it.

Wanda smiles at you, noticing you’re having a lot of internal turmoil. You look away from the golden smile. It’s too perfect. It’s then that you notice you’re in her bedroom. Not your friend’s.

“You couldn’t sleep last night,” Wanda offers an explanation when she sees your confusion. “So, I offered to let you sleep with me. You know, just to calm you down.”

“Oh, um- thank you, Ms. Maximoff.”

“Please honey, you can call me Wanda. We have slept together now,” Wanda says.

You feel your entire body heat up at her words even though you know what she meant.

Wanda likes that you haven’t made a move to get out of her embrace yet. She even dares to pull you a little closer.

“Y/n,” Wanda begins. “My daughter has already gone to work for the day.”

“Okay. I’ll just be on my way,” you say, finally making an attempt to leave but Wanda pulls you back towards her.

She leans down over you from the side and it’s then you notice her nightgown. It’s loose in the front allowing for her breasts to be almost on full display for you by the way she’s leaning. Wanda smiles amusingly.

“I think you should stay here and we can do something about this crush of yours,” Wanda explains.

“I- it’s not-“

“Shh, it’s okay baby,” she says. She places a hand on your cheek. Her long fingers brush against your face. “I’ve seen you looking at me for years now. No sense in denying it. Am I right, sweetheart?”

“Yes- yes ma’am,” you say.

“Oh those manners,” Wanda chuckles. “I love them.”

You can’t help but preen a little at the praise. You feel it in your heart and so many other places. Wanda shifts to move closer to your face. Her breasts rest against your chest.

“I’ve been looking at you too, y/n. You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman,” Wanda says. You don’t reply and Wanda grabs your chin. “Don’t lose those manners on me now.”

“Sorry!” You say quickly, not wanting whatever this is to stop. “Thank you for the compliment, ma’am.”

“That’s a good girl,” Wanda says. “Now, this can happen a couple of different ways.”

You swallow thickly in anticipation of what ‘this’ is. But you’re ready.

“I’m going to kiss you now. If you hate it, we’ll stop. If you don’t hate it, we’ll keep going. And I’d really like to see that body of yours under mine, so please don’t hate it,” Wanda says.

Her words are calculated, like she’s been planning this. Or at least she thought of it before.

“I won’t hate it,” you assure her. That’s all she needs to have the confidence to start.

Wanda leans down and kisses your lips. She starts slow, pulling the softest moans from you by just kissing your lips. When her tongue licks against your lips, you feel like you could explode beneath her. Nothing has ever felt so good.

“Have you never had a woman’s tongue in your mouth, y/n?” Wanda asks you.

You wonder how she has with such a reputation as a perfect Christian she maintains. Everyone in town knows Wanda is a dedicated servant of the Lord.

“No ma’am,” you answer, breathless from her kisses.

“Me either,” Wanda admits. Oh, that changes things. “Only my husband’s and he’s been gone a long time.”

Wanda’s husband died years ago from an illness. You remember holding your best friend’s hand as she cried over her father. The reminder is almost enough to make you stop this, but Wanda keeps talking.

“I really need to do this, okay? You understand right, baby? I’m still so lonely and depraved,” Wanda says, revealing a more vulnerable side of this. She wasn’t just attacking you with affection for your sake. But also hers.

“Yes ma’am, I understand. Do whatever you want to me,” your words slip out. You want to cringe, but Wanda just grins wickedly.

This time, she kisses you while using her tongue. You use yours too as per her want for it. You and Wanda kiss for a long time before your hands begin to wander.

You grab her waist and pull her further on top of you. She gasps at the movement but recovers quickly. Wanda moves her kisses to your neck as her hands reach under your shirt hem.

“I want to see more of you,” Wanda says. She shifts her hips down to yours so she can lift your shirt off. She’s pleased you hadn’t slept with a bra on. Her hands immediately move over your breasts. Her fingers grip already hardened nipples.

You bunch her night down up at her waist and pull it further up her body. You knew she worked out, having seen her leaving the gym a few times, but nothing prepared you for seeing her perfectly toned body.

“You’re so beautiful,” you find yourself breathing out.

Wanda looks at you through her long eyelashes. She smiles softly, appreciating the compliment.

You sit up and take the nightgown off of Wanda. She’s bare underneath. Not even panties adorn her body.

“Fuck,” you mumble.

“That’s quite the language for a sweet girl like you,” Wanda says, her tone a bit scolding.

“Sorry ma’am,” you say. But you’re not.

Wanda makes the move to bring your hands to her breasts. She keeps her hands on yours as you massage them and play with her nipples.

What she doesn’t expect is when you lean in and take the nipples in your mouth one at a time. You suck on them. Wanda’s head falls back in pleasure as she grips your shoulders to stay upright.

“Oh, baby. Keep going,” Wanda says. “That feels so good.”

You keep it up while Wanda begins grinding against your leg. You can feel her wetness pooling onto your thigh and helping her continue to move against you.

“I’ve imagined this so many times,” Wanda says. “You and me sneaking around and having sex.”

“Mhm,” you mumble against her chest. You’ve imagined it too.

“So many nights I- fuck-“ Wanda tries to keep talking, but her orgasm begins washing over her.

You keep sucking her nipples and holding the back of her hips as she comes against you. Her moans are musical as she reaches her high and comes back down.

Wanda rests her forehead against your shoulder. You rub her back softly and rest your head in her neck.

“You did so good, Ms. Maximoff,” you say, keeping that name for her.

“Hmm, thank you baby,” Wanda says.

“What were you going to say earlier?” You ask her.

“When?”

“You said so many nights,” you supply. “So many nights what?”

“Oh,” Wanda says.

She’s recovered now and she pulls away from your shoulder. She takes your face between her hands and kisses your lips soundly.

“I was going to say so many nights I had to fuck myself and pretend it was you so I could get off,” Wanda says.

Your eyes go wide at her words. And you feel the unresolved ache between your legs strengthen once again.

“Um- what did you imagine?” You ask.

Wanda makes an adorable thinking face and you realize it is more than just physical attraction you feel for her all the time. It’s really that you love everything she does.

“I imagined you’d eat me out,” Wanda says. “And then I’d do the same for you. Sometimes I’d imagine you wearing a strap and making me feel so good.”

“Fuck, Ms. Maximoff,” you say. “I hope I can live up to that.”

“You will, baby. I’d like to eat you out now,” Wanda says. “May I?”

“Yes ma’am,” you say, anticipation somehow calming your nerves.

Wanda slides down your body and leaves kisses as she goes. She makes you feel worshipped in every move.

“All of this for me?” She asks as she reaches your wet underwear. She slips them down your legs and dives in.

Wanda kisses your pussy before she switches to licking. She seems to know what she’s doing and you wander how.

“Mmm, all of this wet pussy is for me?” Wanda asks. She wants a reply.

“Yes ma’am. All for you, Ms. Maximoff,” you say.

“Try again,” she instructs.

“Oh- um-“ you stumble out. She goes back to work while you figure it out. “All for you, Mommy?”

“Good girl,” Wanda says. You got it right.

You lay back on the bed as Wanda takes your clit in her mouth. She’s enjoying this, having you all wrapped up in her.

“Fuck, mommy. I’m going to come,” you say. Wanda picks up her pace, sucking your clit like it’s her favorite thing in the world.

Soon, you’re coming for her. She revels in it, licking you clean and taking her time kissing back up your body.

Wanda kisses your lips at last and you can’t help but smile into the kiss. She does the same.

“That was everything I thought it would be,” Wanda says, a content sigh falling from her mouth. She lays next to you in bed and you two look at each other.

“Even better,” you say. “Let’s do it again sometime?”

“Why not right now?” Wanda asks.

You won’t argue with that. You let her kiss you deeply again and you tangle your hands in her hair.

You’ve never been so glad you went to over to your friend’s house.

And Wanda doesn’t regret convincing you to sleep with her the night before, even though you don’t remember the red tendrils telling you to go to her room.

That day it was all your choice. She just decided you needed a little push.

One day maybe she’ll tell you there’s magic coursing through her veins, but for now you’ll sneak around and sleep with her again and again.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #milf!wanda #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff comfort #I really loved this idea #hope y’all do

2K notes · View notes

writingforatwistedworld · 1 month

Note

Hi! Can i ask for a self aware twst when the reader surprises adopted Silver as their son. Like just pointing at him and saying 'you are my child now' with Silver, Lilia and Sebek. Hope you have a good day!

Hehe. Anon, you know what you are doing. In fact, I would say you even want the chaos. And for that I love you come here so I can hug you.

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, Diasomnia chapter spoilers (Lilias part, maybe Sebek), religion, violence, isolation, kidnapping, obsessive behavior

Lilia Vanrouge/(Platonic) Silver/Sebek Zigvolt-Adopting Silver

Oh ok. Cool cool coolcoolcoolcoolcool

Well, at least that one room dedicated to you in the form of an altar can now be used for more practical uses (finally)

When Lilia heard you say those words and point at his son, he fell from the chandelier he was dangling from

Not only did he have to navigate through not accidentally telling his son that he was the blood related son of an enemy general and that exactly this general killed Malleus mom

But also that he had now a second parent that also happened to be god

Mhm totally normal

Conversations to strangers about his family were already playing out like this in his head:

Hi, I am Lilia Vanrouge, yes the one in your history book, this is my son Silver, yes he looks like a certain knight, and my lovely partner and also parent of this lovely human, yes, FU**ING GOD THEMSELVES

Ah yes, sitting in church will totally not be awkward after this

Bro legit sits you down with a pen and paper, asking you to sign the marriage certificate

Asks you what flowers you want to have on your wedding. Doesn't matter if you are a woman, man or identify as something else, he is planning that

Also has already planned out how to get you into the Valley of Thorns without anyone noticing

Because no matter how devoted he is to you, he will always be too greedy to share your attention with someone else

You could have said this as a joke or some other protective instinct towards the silver-haired male but all that man's father hears is a marriage proposal

Lilia is just happy that you feel some sort of positive way to his family member (makes things easier when you are stuck in that cabin)

I mean, he did see Silver as a present from you, a child meant to bring him back to the light after being so long in the shadow of war

And now the three of you were together! How lovely!

Which would mean that you planned this all along. Dear Overseer, if you liked the idea of you being a family you could have just told him so

He will be the best partner to raise a child together you could dream of

And should someone dare to interrupt the perfect, peaceful life you three (plus two more) had, he wouldn't mind swinging that sword again

Wait what?

What do you mean with that?

Are you sure you want him to be your son? Really?

Apparently he was not the only one surprised since he could hear the thud of his father falling to the ground behind him and Seek screaming somewhere behind him

Be prepared for a silver haired knight to look at you with the biggest puppy eyes and ask "Do you really want me as you son?"

Critical hit! Someone call a doctor. I think the Valley of Thorns god can be killed by cuteness

After that he is glued to your side (even though you have to part sooner or later since he is not living in Ramshackle)

One morning you woke up to the guy standing there with some food being like "I made some food."

Like where the Heck did he even get the keys for the dorm? (He broke in through a hole in the ceiling)

Silver always comes running to you whenever he does something and wants praises

Once he was best in one of his classes and he stood there with the report like he could turn into a dog and get headpats from you any second

But, as I am sure you are aware of, this is a blog with yandere themes and we have to say goodbye to the fluff at some point

That sword training comes in handy is all I'm saying

I mean, he has probably enough strength to break someone's leg with his bare hands by simply applying some pressure

And that one Diasomnia student that tried to take his son-status away from him was found again in a not-so-compatible-state-with-life kind of situation

I'm letting you imagine what happened

Like Lilia he is ready to burn everyone who dares to interfere with your little family

The forests of his homeland are pretty though so no need to worry about the appearance of your surroundings once they bring you to your new home (who needs social interaction anyways?)

A second of silence

And then the screaming started

“OH HOW KIND OF OUR OVERSEER! TO SHOW A MORTAL THEIR KINDNESS AND CARING SIDE!”

Seek would be lying if he said that he wasn't surprised

You, aka the Overseer, aka some higher being, AKA GOD, were known in the Valley of Thorns to be kind and caring, yet also distant and never approaching others directly

But then you literally adopt someone, making that person someone in your inner cycle?

Well, if Sebek knew one thing then that those Priests were going to have a crisis as soon as they learned about this

Totally not jealous

He would try to get closer to you since, apparently, you did allow others to get close to you

But he was happy as long as you were

After all, he was now the (not-so-official appointed) shield of the Valley of Thorns, something he got passed on by his grandfather

So of course he couldn't be family with you

That didn't mean he couldn't “help” you

Someone intruded on that dinner you had with Lilia and Silver?

Ouch… that punch must have hurt

Whenever Silver or his Father had to interfere because someone else came too close then they were some incredibly slick (looking at you Rook) or lucky person

Don't let his loud mouth fool you

This crocodile has done unmentionables in your name in order to make things easier for your new found family

For what? Oh you know, becoming his neighbor back home… forever

576 notes · View notes

caraphernellie · 3 months

Text

build god, then we’ll talk // e.w.

a/n: preacher!ellie part 2!! yay! once again heavily mcr inspired lol, also mm a fever you can't sweat out aka the best p!atd album. i got super freaked out because this accidentally posted a few days ago and i dont even know why what the actual fuck. im super nervous about this one. this one is significantly worse than the first and if i wasnt already before writing this i certainly now am never seeing the pearly gates. AGAIN IF THIS ISNT UR THING DONT READ

read part one here!!

word count: 2.6k

warnings: preacher!ellie , christian!reader . some random bitch named paisleigh i tried to go for names karen would pick. fem!reader , dom!ellie , sub!reader . rough sex . church sex they are in the church please dont be mad at me LMFAOOOO . oral (e!receiving) , inappropriate use of holy water?? lol. established relationship (secret lovers). internalised homophobia + religious trauma , mean!ellie , she’s mostly very nice , just punishing reader and suuuuper clouded by internalised homophobia. degrading/slight humiliation kink , corruption kink if you squint , dacryphilia , spanking (r!receiving) , fingering (r!receiving) , hair pulling. dialogue heavy tbh ,, . use of the word whore. use of pet names : angel , sweet girl , good girl.

towards the back of the church, you sit next to ellie during the evening service. her warm palm covers most of your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle circles into your skin. it’s secret moments shared in plain sight that get you going, that make your heart flutter and knees weak.

it’s moments like these that increase the doubts you are having about your faith – not like ellie knows, and absolutely not like you would ever tell her. she is your lover, and you have trusted her with so much, but she could never understand this. she’s dedicated her life to the church like it’s her purpose, and you’re haunted by it.

so even as you feel yourself losing sight of the need for salvation, and as you find that you can only feel happy and free once you let go of religion, you will sit through every mass. you will pray with her. you will continue to live this hidden, shameful life, living with the knowledge that nobody else would approve of the way you love ellie.

and it gets difficult, hiding it. you’ve lived in fear, hiding the secret of your sexuality for so long, but ellie’s warmth and her gentle touch is something you wish you could show off.

the service ends, and ellie stays back as she often does to talk to anyone who needs her guidance. you sit and wait for her in the pews, growing impatient, and growing guilty as your thoughts run wild and you realise what an apostate you have become.

you fidget in your seat, antsy and itching for ellie to come back to you, so you’ll be alone once more, and free to feel her touch and her kiss that you so desperately crave. but she’s having a chat with her neighbour paisleigh, of course, who is asking ellie with some not-so-subtle judgement when she’s going to settle down to become a typical housewife. you scoff at such an idea.

ellie? settling down with a man? that’s laughable.

but watching her talk with paisleigh, the way her chapped lips move and the moonlight shining through a stained glass window hits her eyes, you need that kiss more than ever.

almost on autopilot, you trail towards ellie, standing beside her with a blank face.

she interrupts paisleigh for a moment, turning to you, there’s always that undeniable look of adoration in her eyes, how she always tries to make time for you, and be attentive towards you, and it curls the corners of your lips upwards.

“you alright?” ellie asks, quirking a brow in your direction, “somethin’ wrong or you’re just bored?”

and you realise you’re actually not sure why you came up to ellie – or, you do know, but it’s not something you could ask right now. so you just grab her hand instead of replying, and ellie’s gaze hardens. in an attempt to appear professional, she squeezes your hand before dropping it.

“is something wrong?”

“uh…”

paisleigh utters something under her breath, something that sounds a little mean, before she speaks up. “i should get going. i will see you tomorrow.”

“for sure,” ellie nods, smiling. “see you.”

and ellie doesn’t even spare you a glance, waiting until paisleigh exits the church. you’re alone, the church is empty, and it’s so silent you could hear a pin drop.

at this point, it’s a matter of who will break the silence, but ellie beats you to it. you know she’s not happy – she’s always bitching the second you come close to even subtly showing love to her when someone else is around.

“jealous or something?” ellie says, crossing her arms. she leans against a pew, crossing her ankles. “couldn’t handle hearin’ about me possibly settling down? or were you just in the mood to get us caught?”

“ellie, it’s not like that, i just–”

“then what was it like?” ellie challenges, raising her eyebrows. she’s got a real mean streak, and it only comes out when she wants to protect you.

“it was- j-just– i just wanted to be close,” you mutter, looking down, a newfound meekness in your tone, “it was just me holding your hand, i–”

“and if someone takes you holding my hand the wrong way, then what? hm? you’re willing to lose everything just to hold my hand? what, you’re that desperate for some attention?”

“i wasn’t thinking, i just–”

you don’t know when ellie got so close to you, but her hand grabs your chin and lifts your face so she can stare into your eyes. there’s not much of anger there. you know what it is, it’s her own internal struggle, that she’s only taking out on you because she saw an opportunity.

“not thinking, huh?” ellie snorts, then caresses your cheek, a far cry from the callous tone she’s giving you. “poor girl, wanted me so bad, is that it?”

your lips are sealed, a doe look in your eyes that makes ellie smirk.

“talk. you wanted me, hm? use your words.”

“i just wanted a kiss,” you say quietly, “or at the very least, j-just a hug.”

“awe,” ellie croons, pulling you close. her heart isn’t calm like usual and you can hear it, the harboured speed she gained in fear of your secret being revealed. she’s warm as ever, her hands on your waistline and chin resting on your shoulder. “well here’s your hug, angel. but you know what i think?”

“...what?”

“you’ve forgotten where the fuck we are.”

ellie pulls away from you, and shoves you in the direction of the altar, causing you to gasp and catch yourself with your arms on the white table.

“we are in a place of worship. in the house of god, sweet girl, do you know what god thinks of people like us?”

you look down at your hands. “we’re… sinners.”

“that’s right,” ellie hums in approval. she ends up behind you, a hand gripping your throat to pull your back against her chest. “we’re sinners. and you went as far as to want me, to be thinking these kinds of thoughts during our service, in which we are to honour him. if you’re that much of a whore, i’ll give you what you want right here, right now.”

you splutter, quick shock taking over completely. “i- wha- here? in church? ellie, y- we can’t, this isn’t priv–”

“nobody’s watching,” ellie murmurs into your ear, leaving a kiss right where your shoulder meets your neck. “nobody except god himself. so why don’t i teach you a little lesson, show god how sorry you are?”

oh.

“i…”

ellie’s hand slides down your neck and to your back, pushing, pushing, until you’re bent over the altar. she tugs at the hem of your dress with one hand, the other trailing up the back of your thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake like little electric sparks.

“let this punishment be our prayer. our repentance,” ellie suggests, holding your dress up. a finger traces slowly over the outline of your panties, such a feather light touch you almost don’t feel it, until she’s tugging them down and letting them pool on the floor over your mary janes. “remind me, what are we?”

you’re preoccupied, trembling over the altar and mulling over in your mind the way the air brushes against the heat in your cunt.

preoccupied, until there’s a stinging pain spreading over your ass, and a slap echoing through the empty church, followed by your own yelp.

“i said,” ellie speaks through gritted teeth, repeating herself, “what are we?”

“sinners,” you answer, voice wavering. “so sorry, i– ah!”

another spank, right on the other ass cheek this time. ellie chuckles, her large hands kneading over soft skin to soothe the sting of it.

“we are sinners, and we always beg for forgiveness, don’t we, my angel? so how dare you–” the word dare is punctuated by another spank over the middle of your ass. “-think something so sinful in a time where we are supposed to be holy?"

a pathetic mewl whines past your lips and you tremble even more, “i’m sorry, ellie, but the–”

“don’t be apologising to me,” ellie says, chuckling. she cups your cheeks in her hands from behind, tilting your head up. your eyes focus on the large wooden crucifix hanging on the back wall of the cathedral. “apologise to him.”

“oh,” you whisper, the heat of embarrassment bubbling inside your stomach, rising to your face. “yes. of course.”

ellie’s face appears beside you, a soft kiss pressing against your shoulderblade. “i love you,” she whispers, and she loses sight of herself for a moment – forgetting where her values are, forgetting her internal battles for just a moment to show you something tender, a warning, a reminder that she is playing.

and just when you think the harsher treatment is over, she gives you this short warning that almost doesn’t register in your mind. she slaps your cunt, and she laughs at the way you buck your hips away from her hand.

“this is not going to be gentle. you didn't think your punishment was over, did you?” ellie teases, two fingers spreading open the soaking folds, gathering creamy slick over the pads of her digits. she lives for every reaction you have, every shudder and every little gasp. “tell me, sweet girl, what happens if you sin?”

“y-you’re damned,” you reply, trying to focus your gaze over the cross, and your back arches when two of ellie’s fingers slowly slide inside. “damned to hell.”

“yes,” ellie answers, an audible strain in her voice, where she grits her teeth over the feeling of your walls clenching around her long digits. “and is there a way to save yourself?”

“by… oh, el– by looking to god,” you say. your voice is barely above a whisper, but ellie nods anyway, slowly beginning to move her fingers. “and by apologising, a-and seeking forgiveness from the lord, and y-you can be absolved of s– ffuck.”

ellie is hardly listening to your answer at this point. you can’t see her, but if you could, the look on her face would be tantalising enough. lip pulled between her teeth, thick brows burrowed over narrowed eyes as she watches her fingers coat with your wetness.

“you’re right,” ellie whispers, flitting her gaze up to the back of your head again. “so what are you gonna say now, angel? do you want to be an angel? or keep being a whore?”

“i-i’m sorry, lord,” you plead, a moan choking out as ellie speeds up her pace, thrusting in your pussy, squelching, wet sounds echoing in the church and increasing your embarrassment. “please f-forgive me, for disrespecting you, in a t-time meant for w– ellie!”

the shriek comes as ellie’s free hand spanks your ass again, and she growls, “now apologise for both of us. like we always do.”

you nod, panting softly, but there aren’t many words coming to mind at the moment. think, think, we pray every time. this shouldn’t be hard.

ellie’s fingers slide in and out of you, and she smirks when she feels your clench around her again. the pace is so fast you can’t keep up, and her fingers pound so roughly it almost burns. a knot builds in your stomach, tears in your eyes.

pulled out of your daze, ellie rips a cry out of you as she grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs your head upwards to look at the cross after noticing your head fall. she keeps her grip tight. a hot tear slides down your cheek.

“aw, angel, this shouldn’t be hard,” ellie coos, almost as though she read your mind. “are you sorry?”

“yes, yes,” you whine, hands holding onto the edge of the altar for stability. “please, oh f-fuck, ellie.”

“please? please what, angel?” ellie asks, smirking. “you’re not cumming until you can show god you’re sorry for this.”

“i’m sorry!” you cry, a tear or two dripping onto the white tablecloth on the altar. “please, lord, f-forgive us, we have- are sinning, again, a-and- ahh, mmff,..”

ellie almost rolls her eyes, a large grin on her face that she can’t wipe off for the life of her – you can’t get a full sentence out, and she’s proud.

“please guide us, and p– protect us from future error,” you continue, “thank you for your f-forgiveness.”

“good,” ellie murmurs, easing up some of her relentless pace only to make you more comfortable, “keep cryin’, maybe your tears’ll convince someone to believe you.”

you can’t bother to reply, though ellie’s finally, for once, acknowledged how unapologetic you both are. not sorry, just guilty.

“el– ellie, i’m going to– mm, right, yea, like that please-”

ellie releases her grip on your hair, and hooks a strong arm around you. she laughs as your cunt twitches when her hand begins rubbing at your puffy clit, now with nothing on her mind but the goal of making you cum.

it doesn’t take long after that. a cord in your stomach snaps, unravelling as you shake and tremble and jitter, loud, lewd moans filling the silence of the empty church.

pulling away, leaving your wrecked hole empty, her fingers poke at your lips. as you still come down from such intensity, ellie lets you lean against her while your lips part and take her fingers in, sucking the slick off of them.

“good girl,” ellie whispers, her other hand smoothing your dress down and patting your ass. “you’ll make a perfect angel, so obedient like that.”

you hum around ellie’s fingers, hands lazily grabbing at her wrist, half lidded eyes trained on the veins in her hand.

“i need you to do one more thing for me, can you do that?” ellie asks, taking her fingers out of your mouth. she kisses the corner of your lips, and then grips your shoulders, beginning to push you down. “kneel.”

glassy eyes peering up at ellie, tear stained cheeks and a small pout on your lips, she grunts and reaches for her belt. “ah, fuck...”

she’s ruined you.

unzipping her pants, ellie takes down both the slacks and her grey boxers at once. there’s no time to process anything before she’s got a hand on the back of your head, gently prompting you to move closer, enticing you towards her messy cunt.

ellie looks down at you, huffing a breath out of her nose when she meets your eyes. “c’mere, angel, let me mess up that pretty face even more. just– aw, shit, uh-huh.”

your nose tickled by auburn bush, you press your face against her and flick your tongue out, lapping over her clit. the memory of your dwindling faith is hazy in this moment, nothing but ellie’s moans and taste filling your senses.

“that’s it,” ellie praises, leaning back against the altar to keep herself from growing weak. her hand begins to move your head, and you almost can’t keep up with it. “just so– mmm, ffuck yeah, shit, you’re so fuckin’ pretty.”

hands folded in your lap, there isn’t much you can do but take this, especially when ellie begins rutting her hips towards you. lips and tongue melting between thrusts and the hand moving you up and down, meeting ellie’s pulsing cunt, tasting her essence.

“sh– fuck,” ellie grunts, staring down at you, pretty green eyes jaded in pleasure, bushy brows knit together, and chapped lips groaning explicit praise while she teeters on the edge of orgasm.

“so, so, nnng, s-so fucking good, that’s my girl.”

your desperate whimpers vibrating through ellie’s core are what does it. she fucks her pussy against your face with a guttural moan, head tipped back in pleasure.

and when it’s all over, she lifts you to your feet, redresses herself. chuckling at the sight of your wrecked face, lips and chin covered in spit and slick, ellie kisses you with the gentlest affection.

“good girl, you handled that so well. hm, shit, you’re messy.”

looking for something to clean you off with, the only thing ellie can find around is holy water. smirking, she pours some onto her hands, and massages it over your face.

“amen,” she whispers, nodding her head.

and ellie’s smile grows genuine when half lidded eyes meet her own, and you bow your head.

“amen.”

tags: @dinasvampgf @fadedin2u @eurewili @diddiqueen @machetegirl109 @craz1er4you @divinediorss @onlinelesbo @thecowardwrites

i may consider a part 3 let me know if you want it :) it would be fluffier 😭 maybe they'd leave the church? mybe consummating a marriage iywim... hmm...

#ellie williams x reader #tlou2 x reader #ellie williams x fem reader #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ fanfic #ellie fanfic #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x yn #ellie x you #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader

590 notes · View notes

ki-yomii · 2 months

Text

beg | myg

➥ pairing | min yoongi x f!reader

➥ word count | 1.2k

➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, mild degradation, mild praise kink, established relationship, rough oral (m receiving), throatfucking, teasing, pet names, throat bulge, studio sex, wet & messy, reader wears a necklace with yoongi's initial

➥ summary | requested from this - "Oh no, not until you beg." & "Relax your throat." With Min Yoongi :3

➥ notes | for anon~ hope you enjoy 🧡 un-edited, I’ll come back to fix things when it’s not 2 AM lol

masterlist | ask box | AO3

The low hum of the A/C unit overhead and the whir of the computer fan kicking on is almost enough to drown out the wet gags and gargled breathing but only just.

Not that it really matters - the hours had long since crept past midnight, and Yoongi was meticulous when it came to the design of his studio.

Key pad, double doored, soundproofed to hell and back; the whole shebang.

Millions of won poured into the construction of the four walls that made up his altar, his church. Furthermore, not only did others give a wide berth when he's on-site at HYBE, but even fewer have the special privilege of being granted access to his private sanctum.

You're one of the lucky ones.

Mind, it took several (long) months of veiled suggestions and cajoling to get you to where you are now, but it was worth it in the end.

Watching a man so thoroughly married to his work set aside his convictions to give attention to your relationship doesn't sit right with you. Plus, it wasn’t sustainable in the long run - even though you appreciate the effort.

No, this arrangement is much better - the best of both worlds.

Not only do you get to spend time with him, he gets to share what he loves. A win-win for everyone involved, but especially for you when Yoongi is horny and agitated.

“Mm, come on, baby,” Yoongi husks, wicking away the mascara clinging to the swell of your cheek with a rough thumb, “I know you can take me all the way. Now, stop playing, and relax your throat.”

Burning eyes fluttering open, you take in the blurry upside-down view that greets you through clumpy lashes; a sea of dark wood, the pale stretch of his legs, the pool of black basketball shorts puddled around his ankles.

Propped up as you are, head dangling over the thin leather armrest of the couch, you can't get a good angle without giving yourself a crick. Little spasms are already shooting through your neck, and down in between your shoulders because of the lack of proper support.

Something you'll definitely be paying for later.

But you're not about to stop Yoongi.

Not when he has you laid out on your back with his cock in your mouth, both of you working towards stuffing it down your throat. Even if your lips are fucked raw and swollen, your chin slick with spit and pre-cum.

Your tongue stretches out to flick over the fat head of his cock when he slides free with a sticky pop. “Fuck yeah, just like that.”

You hum low in the back of your throat, threads of arousal shivering down your spine as your belly swoops at the low rumble of his voice, the delicate trace of his fingers along the sides of your neck.

He grunts when you dig the tip of your tongue into his weeping slit, lapping and swirling around the spongy crown.

“Heh, you’re such a filthy bitch for me, aren’t you,” Yoongi says, his voice breathless and cracking around the edges. “Now, are you ready to be a good girl and swallow my dick?”

Inhaling deep, you let your breath shudder from you on a shaky moan that teases the insides of his thighs, the base of his cock, “Yes, please. Want it, Yoongs.”

Yoongi hums, satisfied.

“Watch those teeth,” is the only warning you get.

Then he's cradling your jaw with his thumbs and nudging his hips forward to grind against your lips. Eyes sliding shut, you drop your mouth open into a relaxed circle for Yoongi to fuck into.

The initial slide is smooth, aided by the strings of spit and pre-cum clinging to the lower half of your face. Though trouble begins the deeper Yoongi presses towards the back of your throat.

Your muscles tense as your mouth spreads wider and wider to accommodate his girth. An ache settles deep in your temples, little shocks of discomfort shooting down through the hinges of your jaw.

Tears leak past your clenched eyes, the renewed burn of mascara stinging your ducts as your sinuses clog. You whine - a raspy, muffled sound as your tongue wriggles along the underside of his shaft.

He hushes you, and anchors a hand on your shoulder as the other reaches down to twine with your fingers digging into his thigh. “Doing so good for me,” Yoongi said, “fucking perfect, baby.”

Your pussy clenches, your legs tensing against the leather. Sweat gathers behind your knees, your hips shivering with the need to twist, shift, and find a modicum of friction that’ll relieve the ache building behind your navel.

“Yeah, come on, that’s it. Just a little - shit - hah, that - oh fuck!”

His hips jerk forward as you hollow your cheeks to the best of your ability, hissing as teeth scrape along the sides of his shaft as he bullies his way deeper.

And then, with a pop richoetting down your spine, the head of his cock passes the back of your throat.

“Oh, baby,” Yoongi curses, his frame wracked with tremors.

His thighs shudder against your ears, his hips tense with anticipation as he holds himself still. Your throat rebels, rippling like a vice around his shaft, milking him for all he’s worth.

“Feel’s so - feels so good. You take me so well, knew you could. You always do.”

Gagging, your head goes light and floaty at the sudden lack of oxygen, tiny cavities peppering your vision.

Then you focus on breathing through your nose.

In - one, two, three. Out - one, two, three.

Over and over again until the mounting animal panic subsides, and you're left with tingling limbs and a throbbing cunt.

Yoongi groans, “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

Thumbs bracketing the sides of your neck stroke over the visible bulge of his shaft straining against the chain of your necklace, the delicate ‘Y’ charm branding your skin.

It'll leave a welt everyone can see. A little mark to stake his claim. To remember him by when you're separated.

The thought gets you hotter than you care to admit.

“Can see myself in your throat, baby.”

At the praise, liquid fire pulses through your veins, and warmth blooms in your belly. Settling between your hips until your clit twitches.

Slick soaks through the seat of your panties, and you feel all at once so full, and so, so empty.

The scent of his skin - clean and clear. The musk of his cologne - earthy and masculine. The salt of him heavy on your tongue, his cock throbbing in time with his thundering heartbeat as you swallow around him reflexively.

It's enough to send you reeling with the desperation, the desire to feel him cum down your throat, to taste his pleasure.

Half feral, you try bobbing your head, fingers hooking around Yoongi’s hips to drag him into the cradle of your face deeper, faster, harder.

Only to be met with resistance as he refuses to move, to give in to the frantic movements.

Standing stock still, he lets you tug and whine and writhe until your efforts fizzle to nothing.

And only then does he respond, bending over your body to slide a hand between your thighs.

You jerk, hiccup at the feeling of his fingers inching past the soaked hem of your panties. Brushing over the silken folds of your cunt, teasing, testing the slick arousal with his knuckles.

“Oh no, baby,” Yoongi says, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through his chest into yours, “You gotta beg me first.”

#min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #min yoongi #yoongi #bts yoongi #bts min yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi imagine #yoongi fic

483 notes · View notes