#ok if you’ve seen this before i’m sorry

[netherfeildren]

Notes On a Virtuous Affair

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: One would think this road ends in something virtuous—a greenness so dazzling it hurt the eyes—and not the sort of man waiting in his far out removed solitude.

He was the experienced one, you the innocent. It should have been different. Maybe it should’ve felt different. And yet, there was something in him that made you feel very much the conquering one, you the baptizing one.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Post outbreak; Jackson Joel Miller; Dom/sub undertones; Rough Sex; Impact Play; Face Slapping; Spanking; PIV sex; Ass Play; Oral Sex (m!receiving); Come Eating; Throat Fucking; Unprotected Sex; Potentially Toxic Dynamics? (haha?); Complicated Feelings; They Love Each Other in Their Own Weird Way, Ok?; Older Man/Younger Woman; Idk What This Is, I Don't Expect You to Either;

A/N: miss you guys, sorry for the disappearing act <3

Word Count: 3.1K

Read on AO3

Notes On a Virtuous Affair

Sunlight spills over everything, and the pastoral green leads you to him. 

One would think this road ends in something virtuous—a greenness so dazzling it hurt the eyes—and not the sort of man waiting in his far out removed solitude. 

But there’s an incongruity afoot here that only you appreciate.

The secret lies in that there’s a riddle woven through the three miles you pilgrim to see him weekly. The first, a boon, the green lush wasteland, if a thing that’s alive can be wasted. The second, an honesty, I’ll venture this distance for him. The third, a precursor, when your muscles start to tingle, your thighs, hot and itchy, nape, coated in a taste of salt. Your feet crunch along the gravel and dirt, protected by the soft leathered boots inherited from Lucy who’d died last Monday. A good start to the week, with new boots, and a thoughtful gift she’d left you, your friend, when your own shoes were so worn from all the walking you do for him. The end of the world changes death, finds good things within it. 

The sun warms the bridge of your nose, and you tip your face up to the too-bright light, trying your hardest to look straight at the intensity of it. He’s very much like this too. Why would you look directly at the sun if not for the hurting it brings? Your palms splayed forward at your sides, the breeze moving through your fingers, and the world is all around you alive in this apocalypse. 

Jackson is left further and further behind as you move towards him, and what no one understands, not even Joel Miller himself, is that there is something virtuous about this affair.

-

“I’m gonna fuck your mouth now,” he says down at you, bare as the day you were born and kneeling before his clothed and towering height. Nothing but the heavy hanging length of his cock is naked for you, the first you’d ever seen in your whole life. If he had his way, the only one you’d ever see for the rest of it. The wide head is slick and glossy, the way it bobs obscenely from his open jeans looking like the weight of it would hurt, the way it juts from the bed of hair at this groin like a threat to you. 

You know now, after all his focused training, that it only hurts him when you don’t tend to it as he needs, that it’s only a threat when you fail to do the same. He’s shown you the rules of hurting, in all these months you’ve come your three promised miles to him time after time. Shown you how it comes easy, that of hurting someone you love. A running in place sort of thing. You know all the steps that will come, the exact spot you’ll tread in. The way to propel yourself forward to finally leave that same place, avoid it, if you want. 

“Open wider. Won’t fit like that,” he clicks his tongue, voice a burr as he grips his throbbing flesh and with the other too big hand, also like a seeming threat, but not, he gives you a quick, softly stinging slap to the high of your cheekbone. The sound, fast and snapping like his disapproving tongue. You swallow a moan, looking up at him with that look in your eyes you know disturbs him, adoration, letting the hinges of your jaw go loose, saliva pooling beneath the cover of your tongue. “Don’t you want me?” He asks. 

And you blink once, moan crossing the bridge to a laugh if your mouth wasn’t stretched wide as it’ll go. He sees it though, skipping water in your eyes and gives that half smile, the mean one, the one that says he has all the answers in the world, knows all the things there are to know, that one you like best. Good girl, and his voice makes no sound, only the shape of the words on his mouth. You haven’t been good enough yet to hear the real thing of them out loud. This tells you that you must apply yourself to the task at hand, making him come. 

One heavy tap to the flat of your tongue sticking out for him first, and then he’s slicking that fat head against the surface, giving you the first real taste, salt and musk trickle down the back of your throat and you moan again, eyes screwing shut tight, cunt aching something fierce. Leaking just like the tip of his cock leaks too. 

That’s the thing about this thing, the one you see very well and Joel still fails to. The two of you, as disparate as you might seem, are the same in all the basic but most important ways. Too much in common for him to look at in the eye comfortably and still do the things you do. 

“Open your throat. Get me hard.” In your head, he calls you baby. In reality, only sometimes, when you’re extra good, does that happen. But in your imagination, where it matters more, he doesn't ask nice, but you are his baby. 

He slides back, back, hits the end of your throat, pulls out against the wet heat of your tongue. You keep your jaw wide until you feel him harden entirely, until he stretches his neck back, tendons jumping stark, clench of his jaw fluttering with a choked groan. “Suck me,” your permission to savor him like you need to. 

Hands pressed firmly to your bare knees, not digging at your soft wet like you’d like, or pawing at him as you’d like even more, you close your lips around him, cheeks hollowed and suck hard, tonguing at his slit on the pull back so that he’s bearing his teeth at you in a growl and shoving forward again hard, a snarl as the cinch of your tight throat strangles the head of his cock on every one of your swallows. Your eyes water, but he pets softly at the same spot he’d stung earlier with his slap. 

A game you used to play with your siblings, who could slap one another harder until the other gave out. It’d taken a while for you to come to the realization, but eventually, you’d realized the memory of it in your mind as it exists now wasn’t innocent the way it should’ve been. That there had been something you’d liked about it in a strange way—that hurting. That the first time you’d asked Joel to play the same game with you, you’d wanted him to slap you other places just as hard until you gave out also. 

The games were part of the thing. His own strange rules, like the way you couldn’t touch him sometimes—you dig your bitten down nails into the soft skin of your inner thighs—only when he said it was okay was it allowed. The way you were never allowed to touch your cunt unless he said so also. He had weird things about him, turned strange by the dangerous ways of life. Like the solitude, the house out and away, the begging you had to do for him to have you. 

Sameness. 

He wraps his fist in your hair, more sting, “Gonna fill your belly with my come, yeah?” His thrusts pick up pace, pulling your head back as far as your neck allows so that he can fuck your throat in full, jaw hanging wide, and you’re just the wet and willing hole you know he sometimes wishes you could always stay as. 

The thick cock against your tongue throbs once, twice and then he’s spilling hot and heavy down your open throat, sweet salt against the back of your tongue while you try and breathe through his strangling, tears spilling.

When he pulls back, slipping wet and heavy from your mouth you fall forward onto your palms, breathing fast, almost hyperventilating, stinging with the forced will to remain obedient. Your spine burns beneath your skin and your sore jaw hangs unwillingly open, sloppy mouth dripping a string of semen between your splayed palms. 

He crouches before you, dripping cock like your mouth, milked to heavy softness hangs long and sated between his thighs. And he pets your crown, the vulnerable shell of your ear, whole body on fire so that every inch of skin hurts without his touch, hurts worse with it. 

“Good girl,” he says now with voice. 

-

The walk seems longer some days. A thousand miles plus an eon instead of merely three. Especially on the days you’re more desperate than usual. The ones when your stomach feels full of sugar for him and the memory taste of his cock is already aching in your molars. Those days your steps are hurried, look in your eyes frenzied to get to him, to escape the things you leave behind. A too full house, your sister’s squalling, teething baby, your little brothers, and too many mouths to feed and not attention to be had, not enough mother for everyone to get loved. 

There’s reasons for this game between the two of you, you’d had to come out and find your attention somewhere else. 

Your love too. 

And if it comes with a sting sometimes, well, so had your mother’s. You like it like this now. 

The first time he’d touched your cunt: show me that pretty pussy, baby, and he’d had you from that very first sweet word, you gonna let me finger it? You’d spread wide, leaked into the cup of his palm like a whore, you’d needed to make sure he was for keeping from the first try, you see. So you’d done all he’d said, taken four fingers and only cried a little bit but whined a lot. Been all, hurts, Joel, high pitched and dragging his name out on a puppy whimper. 

He’d given you that first lesson in hurt the very first time: Yeah? Supposed to. A real mean man. And then made you gush into that very cupped palm so that he could drink of your sweetness. 

He was the experienced one, you the innocent. It should have been different. Maybe it should’ve felt different. And yet, there was something in him that made you feel very much the conquering one, you the baptizing one. 

The third mile comes to an end, the precursor, over, his house in view. It’s all quiet and slumbering and the long grass pulls you forward with its wind blown sway. The wide door to his shed is propped open, half finished rocking chair up on the workbench that sways with the intruding gust. The grass whispers behind you, the dark woods across the field moan, and he’s nowhere while the Tetons loom in the distance. 

You drag your fingers along the slats of his house as you pass, everything is so quiet, like he’d never been here. Like he’d gone and left you the way he’s promised he’d never do. Your belly feels bloated with heat, heart turned into four incongruous chambers that no longer beat in tune, memories of him rioting between each thump. Your cunt goes soft and drooling in your panties as your fear beats higher and higher, and you come to the mouth of the shed, peering into the cool darkness of this little place where he makes his beautiful things. The things that go into people’s homes to be used by people’s families to be stored in people’s memories.

The gleam of the sun does not cross the threshold, and you brace your palms on either side of the wide door, the air thrums and he’s not here—yet—you slide the toe of Lucy’s old boot across the border of sunlight into sanctuary and peek your closed-eyed face into the shade right before you’re taken bodily to the ground by his heavy weight. Palms catching splinters, his strong chest heaves into the line of your spine, strong arm at your waist to pull your breath from your lungs and your legs from under you. 

He forces you belly first to the ground, other hand circling your throat in the imitation of a strangle lest you lose yourself and decide to struggle for the first time ever. But you dig your fingernails into the dirt, scratching for purchase in preparation of what’s about to come, all the fight going out of you; body, half in shadow, half in sunlight. Your bones feel salt bleached. An over abundance of sodium in the blood that renders you catatonic for him.

He nuzzles soft at your nape while his hand shoves under your dress, ripping your underwear down your legs so that the elastic cuts into your tender skin to hurt. All incongruous movement, this man is. 

“Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to go creepin’ ‘round strange men’s homes?” His voice is so deep, drawled, broken up into different notes of lust and anger and temerity. All the strange things that make Joel Miller up. 

Yeah, you sigh into the dirt. “Told me exactly how it’d go for me if I did.”

You hitch your rump up then, presenting your cunt for fucking. The breeze doesn’t do half to soothe the throbbing wet. The sort of ache that’ll only be fixed by something heavy inside the hurting place. The sound of his belt quiets the disparate chambers, the beat in your ears of rushing blood is uniform now, there’ll be a wet spot in the shape of you in the dirt when he’s through. You lift your hips higher, knees scraped rough as you spread wider, face pressed to the ground and your fingers are well and burrowed in their little gouges now. 

He smacks the heft of it against you asshole, spits and presses a little. He likes to scare you sometimes. Nooo, Joel, all whining stutter, but with your back arching deeper like a little babied liar; you don’t mind where he puts it, only that he puts it somewhere.

“Hush,” he soothes all nice, spanks your ass once all not— “Gonna teach you a lesson.” And shoves inside, bumping against your womb on the first try, stretching your hole too wide, too quick. And there’s no prep, no qualm. No need to hesitate when you own a thing. You swallow your animal cry, ah ah ah, you want to hear how good you’ve been out loud. He grips your hips tight enough to bruise which is what you know he wants and fucks hard and fast, each swing whistles with ownership. 

He fucks you in the dirt like an animal, and this affair is virtuous. 

He teaches you the truth about hurting, about ownership, about so many things that only a man like Joel Miller could teach a girl like you. And all the while he tells you that you’re too pretty to take such an ugly fucking. 

The way he works your cunt, hungry, balls swinging wet so that they sting like his slaps, tip battering hard so that it aches like gratitude. 

These are the things three miles give you. A whole man to teach you about the whole world. 

The slick squelch of your overwhelmed cunt sounds loud, no more disparate heartbeat, no more green grassed whispers. Only the sound of his grunting above you like an animal remains. “You’re the perfect little cunt. You know that, baby?” There it is, you sigh. Start to tremble around him like that, like his good baby that you are, desperate flutters, little gash being fucked into obedience like you need. Your overwhelmed pants make little dirt dream clouds before your eyes as you start to come for him, crying his name, crying your love, crying that you’re so, so thankful. 

“Don’t stop, Joel. Not yet.” And he loves it when you beg, loves it when your cunt pulls tight like a knot.  

“Not yet,” he promises because he might be a real mean man, but he loves you like separating salt from blood.

Complicated and precise. 

When he’s through with you, there’s sunlight spilling over everything again. It’s journey goes on and on, and his semen drips from your cunt now. He turns gentle, thrusting still, making sure it’s fucked deep, pulsing in time with your own throb. Rhythms merge between the two of you. 

His rules are strange, his claims over you equally mysterious. He won’t say things out loud, won’t let you touch any real part of him, but his strange truths ring loud anyways, and when your heart isn’t disjointed, you hear him perfectly well. 

When he lays you out bare and trembling across his messy bed, the groaned pains of his age and rutting in the dirt like an animal sound from him as he drapes himself alongside you. Large and hairy, feet hanging off the end of the bed, entirely real with one knee propped up so that his thick cock lays heavy and soft over the swell of his belly. Your heart beats soft and overfull now. 

You watch the sun set across the planes of his chest and bask in the blue dark as the night draws breath around you. The work of meting out obedience to little girls who come searching for it is toiling, and you watch him melt into sleep, but right before he’s just gone away from you, with a single finger petting at the jut of the old broken bone in his shoulder, your whispered plea: Will you give me a falseness? You don’t call it a lie. This is a virtuous thing, after all.

Lies aren’t allowed in this house. 

He breathes a deep sigh, and you watch the fan of his long lashes sweep open, staring up at the shadowed rafters of his home. You swear you can see each and every individual whisker in his thick beard, dark and gray dispersed throughout. You see every single detail. 

He’d told you once there were ghosts here, in this house, and you’d learned later it wasn’t a lie. This became more and more obvious the more you got to know him. 

He stares up at them now. 

When he’d taken your virginity, when it’d left you the way you’d always imagined it would, covered in tears and blood and semen, you’d made that promise to each other. That you wouldn't lie, that he’d have all of you, that you’d not touch all of him. The ghost lay beside you in the damp bed of your lost innocence that day. It’d been just so ever since and over many miles of three you’d come to appreciate the realities of it. Who could be more connected than two people who always tell each other their truths exactly as they are?

“Give me a falseness,” you say again, not a lie. 

“A good kind of a bad kind?”

You flip a mind’s coin, wish you could see the exact ghosts he sees— “Bad.”

He turns to look at you, this half smile he wears is your second favorite one now, the honest one, and it’s all there for you to see. All the disparate chambers of Joel, just like your heart beating in your ears. You suppose the ghosts don’t matter then. 

“I don’t love you.”

And you nod solemn. Bad, like a whisper, like your game. 

You smile back, the one you know he likes best, the one that looks like his.

Netherfeildren’s Masterlist

Updates Blog

[holdinbacksecrets]

your writing makes me feel safe, thank you. if i could request something? it’s totally ok if you aren’t comfortable but i was wondering how you think seventeen would react seeing their s/o’s self harm scars? but not the act of doing it; i’ve just been feeling a bit unworthy because of my own from my past and my mind wandered (but absolutely no worries if this is out of your comfort zone. i know self harm scars can be a trigger for sure (and you don’t have to reply in that case either)) <3 thank you either way

thank you for sharing kind words and requesting! i'm sorry for taking over a year to answer this... hopefully you still see this >.< i also hope my interpretation of your request is ok. sending you all my love 🥺 i hope you’ve been feeling better these days. you’re deserving of all the good things

seventeen: seeing your self harm scars for the first time

tw: mentions of self harming (no details of the act itself) and scars

seungcheol: he’d trace them with his lips, allowing his love to sink into the scars and caress their edges. he’d ask if they still hurt—if the memories are still piercing

jeonghan: “you turned your scar into a butterfly?” “yeah, it always made sense to get a tattoo, and it’s a reminder that pain and discomfort are fleeting. i’m never stuck.” “you’ve always had a thing for flying, haven’t you?” “yoon jeonghan, i’d exchange my arms for wings if i could.” “you’ll need me for so much more than reaching things on the highest shelf.” “you’re right… not the most practical idea.”

joshua: walks with you through the park after seeing the small x on the kitchen calendar, marking the passage of another year, and the feeling is overwhelming as painful memories flood your mind

jun: “so these aren’t from a bike wreck?” “i can’t believe you remember that…” “everything you tell me… i can’t forget anything.” “it was only our second date. i didn’t want to scare you away.” “you wouldn’t have, but i understand why you worried. i wish you didn’t have to.” “what do you think you would’ve said? would’ve thought?” “i would’ve admired you. i can’t imagine that’s an easy thing to share with anyone, let alone a person you just started dating. i would’ve felt honored that you trusted me with something so… intimate, something that leaves room for conclusions being made that you aren’t in control of.”

soonyoung: he asks if you’re ok now and immediately wonders if that was too simplistic of a question, but he means it. he wants to know if you wake up and feel peace or dread. he wants to know about the cracks in your smile. he wants to know if you’re proud of yourself now. if you were before. if he can do anything to make the dreadful moments with forced smiles easier

wonwoo: thank you for being here is the last thing you hear before drifting off, carried away by a current of warm dreams

jihoon: he cries for you and his childhood friend with similar scars. a man he hasn’t seen in years but thinks about the last week of every october—reminded of his birthday, hoping he’s celebrating well

seokmin: he holds you. he doesn’t want to let go until his tears have stopped. he doesn’t want you to know that the thought of you harming yourself pierces his heart, stops his breath, stays heavy on his shoulders, and keeps him awake while you sleep

mingyu: he wants you to know that no feeling you meet will ever scare him away. you don’t need the reminder, but he tells you anyway: you can always come to me. he will be your solid ground, the maker of comforting words and sweet distractions

minghao: will you believe him if he says you’re the strongest person he knows?

hansol: he doesn’t know what to say, and he’s suddenly afraid of his ability to support you. he hopes you can’t tell because this moment isn’t about him. the last thing he’d ever want is for you to turn to another if he’s unable to give you what you need. “it’s ok. you don’t have to have the perfect words. they don’t exist. i just want you to know. i’m so much better now. i’ve never been happier, truly, but the words were starting to itch and pull me out of present moments. summer’s coming, and i know you’ll see them soon. i just want you to know.”

seungkwan: so many questions roll around in his head. they stick to the back of his throat, and he searches your eyes for any signs of the capacity you have for sharing in this moment. you smile softly and offer a nod of encouragement. he takes a deep breath and asks the first one

chan: “do you ever…” “think about doing it again? i do, but i made a list of things to do instead.” “can i hear it?” “make tea, watch the sky, turn music on, call a friend, think about something yummy to make for my next meal, ride the train and stop as close as i can get to the library… i have a playlist of seventeen videos on my phone too.” “you’ve thought about it that recently? y/n…” “i didn’t make the playlist for that purpose alone. it started out of missing you, but i know it’ll help if i start to slip.” “you can always call me. call me first and call again if i don’t answer.”

[azileuk-after-dark]

what did he mean by this

[fizzlehead]

GODDDD i just miss being able to watch new episodes of riverdale live and have FUN with them. i remember watching the josie and the pussycats episode in my tiny single dorm room with like 5 of my friends packed onto my twin bed and when archie kissed kevin on the cheek we all ERUPTED in a screaming fit. and then a few weeks later we all did the same thing with the next to normal episode and again like when charles burst into the room singing we stood up and cheered like our sports team had just scored a touchdown or whatever. and even though i didn’t really like s6 very much it STILL had moments like these in the majority of episodes. but now every week i watch it alone in my bed on my laptop and i spend the entire time brain rottingly bored at best and genuinely upset and angry at worst. like what happened i miss riverdale!!!! :(

[ravenslvt]

imagine best friend leon comforts you after a break up but it turns south 🤔🤔🤔😛, soft sex is what he gives you

☆ bsf! leon x female!reader ☆

bestfriend! leon comforting you after a break up

☆ content warnings: smut , mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating ☆

leon groans as he hears a knock at his door. the clock read 12:53am. who was coming over this late?

he stands up out of bed, not bothering to put a shirt on. he opens his front door, yawning.

all his annoyance completley dissipates when he sees you all teary eyed on his doorstep.

he says your name in concern, you just look up with the saddest look on your face. it sent a pang to his heart to see you like this.

he immediately figured it was your (asshole) boyfriend who was constantly flaking on you and (he assumed) was probably even cheating.

“sorry, i wasn’t sure if you were awake and i didn’t wanna call and-“ you start to ramble. he sighs, bringing you in to hug his bare chest. you didn’t mind, you’d seen him shirtless before. you’ve been bestfriends for almost four years.

“it’s ok, you don’t have to say anything.” he shushes you. he finally brings you into his messy apartment you’d been in countless times, but this time felt different.

“i just feel so fucking stupid. it was so obvious the whole time he was a dick i just was so delusional.” you’re on your second glass of wine now that leon had brought out for you two. he figured it would be nice to talk about your feelings and vent to him. you sit facing eachother on the couch in his living room.

you’d been with your (now) ex-boyfriend for only eight months. but leon always fucking hated the guy. he would always get mad when you would hangout with leon, thinking he had a crush on you or something, which he totally did.

you stopped crying now, you were just angry for wasting so much of your time with such a joke of a man. leon didn’t blame you. he let you rant.

“god, it didn’t help he fucking sucked at sex too. seriously he lasted like two pumps then knocked out. for EIGHT months!” you weren’t lying.

“you’re joking” he laughs, shifting in his seat on the couch. he never even bothered to put a shirt back on since you got here, still only in his baggy grey sweatpants.

“i’m serious. never made me cum once. he never even ate me out, said it was ‘too gross’ ” you scoffed, remembering how it was always about his pleasure and not yours. you felt leon’s eyes on you.

his eyes darkened.

his thoughts raced. that asshole never even ate you out? he’d kill to even touch you like that.

you noticed him go silent, one of his hands resting on his own thigh and the other arm was resting around the top of the couch.

“leon-“

“fuck that guy. seriously. any guy would be so lucky to even be allowed to be with you, to touch you.” leon’s voice is quieter than usual, but loud enough for you to hear. it felt like he was holding something back.

maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the supressed feelings for your bestfriend, but your eyes scanned him, suddenly consious of his shirtless state. how good his bare chest looked. how firm his muscled stomach was. how good his waist looked in those pants. his fucking arms.

and the way you could fully see the outline of his cock in his sweatpants.

your eyes shot back up to his face. only to see him staring at you.

“like… you?” you gulped, awaiting his response. you could see him thinking, practically hearing the gears turn in his head. he sighs your name, looking away.

“i-i can’t. not when your in this state.” he rubs his face with his hands. god his hands were big.

“leon i-“

“no, i like you way too fucking much to mess this up” he looks back at you, a genuine soft look in his eye.

you smile, he’s too sweet for his own good sometimes. you sit up straight, scooting closer to him.

“leon. i promise you, i want you.” you bring a gentle hand to cup his strong jaw.

his hands reach for your face, he uses one to brush a stray hair out of your face. he brings his forehead to yours.

“do you know how badly i want you? how long i’ve been waiting for you? you fucking kill me everyday i have to go without you.” he speaks lowly.

he leans in slowly, giving you a chance to pull away. but you don’t. your eyes flutter shut as your lips connect.

he starts the kiss out paced, allowing your lips to adjust to eachother. your hands go straight to his shoulders for support. you were afraid you’d fall over onto his carpeted floor.

“leon…” you panted his name between kisses, giving him an opportunity to greet his tounge in your mouth.

“what is it pretty girl?” he never pulled back as you two spoke, addicted to your lips.

“want you… need you, please” you practically whined into his mouth. he just smirked, giving you one last kiss before pulling away. you pouted for a second before he started to kiss down your neck slowly. exploring and biting until you showed him your sweet spot.

he bit your pulse point, making you softly yelp.

your hand automatically goes to the waistband of his sweats, but he stops you, swatting your hand.

“no, this is about you. ignore me” he warns.

“but-“ you pout

“no.” he sternly says, pushing you so your back was against the couch cushion, he was now on his knees between your thighs. you were going to argue, but seeing him like this brought no complaint from you. you were never used to this. but god were you excited.

he teasingly removes your shorts, leaving kisses in their wake. you gasped from the feeling, being left in your black panties. they had a little rose at the top center, making him smile.

“cute” his thumb goes over the rose, then moves over your clothed clit. you softly gasp and your hips automatically buck up to meet his touch.

he scrunches your shirt up, kissing your pelvis, then your stomach, and pushing your bra up to bring a nipple into his mouth. you squirm under him, already so needy for him. he pulls away with a pop.

he slowly reaches his hand into your already soaked panties, a look of suprise on his face.

“this all for me?” he nudged your sensitive clit with his knuckle. you suck in a breath, nodding.

he chuckles, using his free hand to pull your panties down while he continues rubbing your clit, rolling it between his fingers.

once they’re off, he stares down at your bare pussy, absolutely entranced.

“s-sorry. he only liked it when i was shaved” you looked away from him, a bit self conscious. you try clamping your thighs together.

he scoffs “what a fucking weirdo” he says before forcing your thighs to stay open with his strength. you always forgot how strong he was since he was always so gentle around you.

he moves his head to hover over your needy cunt, your thighs now around his shoulders. he looks up at you “is this ok?”

you nod.

“yes” you say. he moves in an instant, his hot mouth devouring you.

“fuck, leon!” you moan, covering your mouth with your hand. the other one gripped his dirty blonde hair.

his lustful eyes look up at you as his tounge works expertly against you. he studied your reactions, repeating the actions that made you squirm the most.

your thighs squeezed against his head, but he didn’t mind. he fucking loved that he was making you feel like this. his dick was raging in his pants, but he ignored it. tonight was about you. he’d make it about you everynight if he could.

he thrusted his long tounge into your hole, pumping it as he circled your clit with his nose. you almost screamed, his grip on your thighs getting tighter by the second. he shakes his head in a motion, teetering your orgasm.

you started to shake, almost drowning him in your wetness.

“i think i’m gonna-“ your thighs were so tight around him he swore you were crushing his skull. he quickens his mouth, the most pornographic noises coming from your pussy.

you let out the most delectable moans as you cum all over his face. he keeps licking and sucking until your shaking stops and you’re just panting, trying to push him off from overstimulation.

“s’too much” you pant, grabbing at leons hair. he finally pulls away, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. your face was completley flushed and eyes lidded. he smiled, leaning in to kiss you. you moan as soon as you taste yourself on his tounge. (your ex was wrong, you tasted fucking great)

you feel his hard buldge against your thigh, your brows furrow and a heat fills your gut. you reach out your hand to rub him through his pants. he lets out a needy groan, rutting into your hand. a wet patch growing in the front of the grey sweats.

“f-fuck. keep doing that and i’ll have to keep going, baby” he warns, but you didn’t stop. you keep eye contact as you rub the head of his cock through his sweats, the fabric adding extra stimulation. it twitched in your hand and he grabbed your wrisy, stopping you, though he didn’t want you to stop.

“i don’t wanna take advantage-“ he starts, but you cut him off before he can finish, rolling your eyes.

“leon stop. do you know how many dreams i’ve had of you fucking me? we’ve already gotten this far, so if you don’t fuck me right now i’m gonna walk out that door and-“ this time he cuts you off with a kiss, you smile into the kiss. you feel him smile back.

after a minute or two of sweet kissing, the moment gets heavy again. the kiss gets deeper and more messy.

you couldn’t help it, you slide his loose sweatpants off his figure and have to look down.

oh fuck. he was big.

he noticed your eyes widen and cheeks flush, his ego inflating a little.

“that’s not gonna fit, leon” you look back up at him, absolutely in awe of the man’s gorgeous cock. the tip was a raging pink color, it was curved upward like it was begging to be touched. precum sparkling at the edges.

he chuckles, kissing you on the cheek.

“oh yes it will”

he sits back up on his knees, dragging your legs twords him and grabbing one of the pillows from the couch, patting your hip to tell you to lift it so he can slide it under.

he gives himself a few more pumps, even spitting on his cock for extra lubricant, though you were already so wet he could probably slide in easily.

he lines himself up, looking up at you for one last chance for you to back away, but you just shimmy your hips to try and get him to put it in already. he takes that as a sign and slowly slides in.

you tense up as soon as the tip is in. he leans down, giving you a peck on the lips before rubbing your hips.

“relax, pretty” he sooths. a few more seconds and hes sinking in a little more, little by little he brings himself to a point where he can’t push in anymore. he was balls deep in your sopping pussy.

he waited a few moments until you were moving your own hips for some more stimulation.

“there you go, look at you.” he teases, pulling out almost all the way, only leaving his raging tip in before thrusting it back in. your back arched off the couch and he gripped your hips tigher. you felt heavenly.

all you could think about was how good his big cock felt inside of you. gently slamming in and out and in and out and in and out.

“more” you plead, looking down to where you two meet, there was a noticable buldge indented in your stomach from where his cock was in you, making you whine.

“of course” he whispers, leaning down to cage you in his elbows, throwing the pillow from under you somewhere across the room and instead using his strength to slam into you. your arms held him around his neck, one pulling at his hair unconsciously. your legs wrapped around his hips, encouraging him to go faster.

you’re both panting as you lean up to kiss him again. it wasn’t anything like your first kiss with him. it was all tounge and saliva and mess. but it was perfect for the moment.

you could feel him so deep, it felt like he was growing even bigger inside of you. you felt a familiar build up in your belly, the need of release. you pull away from the kiss to breathe. he lowers his head to suck your tits in his mouth, alternating between them and occasionally biting them gently.

“leonnn!” you moaned his name over and over as his pace got faster and faster.

he was holding back his own orgasm just so he could feel you clench around him.

“fuck, i wanted this for so fucking long, baby. you’re so-fuck- so perfect.” leon was losing his composure more and more by every thrust inside of you. your walls started to clench around him, making his face scrunch up.

you came around him, squeezing him, your nails dragging down his strong arms, leaving redish pink marks in their wake.

he just chanted your name mixed with compliments-how perfect you are around him, how pretty you are, how you were made for him.

“w-where can i-“

“inside, leon, please!” you whine, all you can think of is his cock dragging in and out of you.

he spills inside you with a groan, hips sputtering. he lays on top of you, holding himself up so he doesn’t crush you.

“s-shit are you…?” the realization hits him that he just came inside you.

“i’m on the pill” you assure, softly smile at him, both of you breathing heavily at this point.

he smiles back, kissing you and slowly pulling out, making you whine, he tucks himself back into his sweatpants, an obvious stain on the front of his pants.

he gently pulls your shirt back over your tits, but not before giving them a soft kiss each. you giggle at him.

“are you feeling ok? do you need anything?” he asks, stroking your head and fixing your loose hairs. acting like he wasn’t just fucking your brains out.

you nod, giving him another peck on the lips, this time he pouts when you pull away.

safe to say, you were over your ex.

a/n: raven try to write soft smut challenge: impossible. lowkey got carried away but i hope u like it!!

thank u for the request i lovedddd writing this mwuah <3

[landososcar]

lover ; LN4

pairing(s) ; lando norris x swiftie!reader

summary ; in which y/n just wants to post pictures of her boyfriend, not expecting people to get the wrong idea

warnings ; smau, lots of fluff

note ; its 3am and i didn’t want to sleep til i finished this so idk what mistakes there probably is lmao😭 also just pretend the twitter stuff says 2024 i cba changing it all

instagram ; yourusername

liked by nando4lorris, carlossainz55 and others

yourusername i saw the dimples first and then i heard the accent 💓☺️

view all comments

user1 who are you

carlossainz55 you tagged the wrong account silly

yourusername you replied with the wrong account moron

nando4lorris you two aren’t slick

yourusename yeah ok mr nando lorris

nando4lorris you’re supposed to be on my side wtf

user2 i’m so lost 😭😭

user3 i’m confused someone explain

user4 babe everyone’s confused

user5 wait so is this carlos’ gf or not

user6 idk who you are but you’re hot as fuck

user7 ok i swear i’ve seen carlos wear that top in the 4th pic before

user8 yeah i think i’ve seen lando wearing it too tho

user9 but lando isn’t in this girls likes and comments

nando4lorris yeah guys you’re right she’s gotta be carlos’ girlfriend

yourusername nando4lorris fuck off i hate you so much 😭😭😭😭😭

user10 ????????

instagram ; yourusername

liked by landonorris, nando4lorris and others

yourusername i’d like to hang out with you for my whole life 🤗🧡

view all comments

user1 crying because lando liked on his main AND his burner (confirmed)

yourusername p.s. the tag in these pics is for PHOTO CREDS 😁

user2 LMFAOOO HER COMMENT

user3 girl said my mans is NOT carlos sainz jr🙅‍♀️

user4 i have so much to say

user5 the taylor love lyrics, the orange heart emoji, the flowers, the ladybugs, THE CAT CARDIGAN

user6 i think i would die for her

nando4lorris 🧡🧡

yourusername 🥰

carlossainz55 i thought you guys were still trying to be sneaky

yourusername carlos you’re the one making it hard to be sneaky

user7 oh it’s so lando

carlossainz55 oh well it’s been 4 years everyone already knew

user8 ITS BEEN WHAT JEHFKSKKS ????????

instagram ; landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and others

landonorris i’ve loved you (five) summers now honey but i want them all 😁😁

view all comments

user1 oh my god

user2 FIVEEEEE SUMMERS????? EVEN MORE THAN CARLOS SAID !/?;&2!@:9(

carlossainz55 i’m sorry i just guessed how many years because i didn’t know exactly just that its been a long long time

yourusername it’s ok carlos you were close

user3 SHES BEEN TO RACES AND NO ONES EVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT HER OH MY GOD

maxverstappen1 finally mate

oscarpiastri wooo secrets out 🥳

user4 he used a taylor lyric for the caption im gonna be sick

user5 if you zoom in on the second pic you can actually see me drowning myself in the background

ciscanorris1 💓💓

yourusername love you🥰

user6 wait i don’t have twitter can someone explain

user7 oh BABE you’ve got some catching up to do

yourusername my fav boy love you to saturn ☺️🧡

landonorris i love you more than you love taylor swift🥰

yourusername ok settle down babe don’t go too far

landonorris no sorry you’re right

user8 when he understands that ones love for taylor is never beaten >>>>>

user9 i need them biblically

user10 i still don’t understand how they hid her for 5 years lmfaoooo

user11 yourusername ok y/n but did he take you to the eras tour

yourusername he got us tickets for a uk show later this year 🥰🥰

user12 now, how’d that curly haired vroom vroom bitch pull HER

liked by landonorris!

[marvelobsessed134]

Young, and dumb

Step sister!Natasha Romanoff x Bimbo!reader

Warnings: Nat has a dick, top!nat, sub!reader, stepcest, kind of the plot of a stereotypical porno lol, oral (N Recieving)

Summary: You walk in on Natasha

Natasha knows not to look at you in any other way than a step sister. But, she can’t help it when you walk around in short skirts and low cut tops exposing your cleavage. The way you wear only a bikini top and short shorts in the summer. She can’t ignore the fact you make her hard.

It’s not fucking fair. Why did her dad have to marry your mom? Now it’s forbidden to look at you in any other way. But she’s stopped caring.

She knows you look at her too. Especially when she’s working out in nothing but her shorts and muscle tanks. She knows you lick your lips at her crotch because you can clearly see she’s packing.

And now she lays down on her bed, cock in hand as she strokes it, using her precum as lube. She’s alone, or so she thinks.

Natasha was interrupted when you walked into her room. “Natty? Have you seen my-“ you cut yourself off when you saw the view in front of you. Your step sibling with her large, hard, cock in her hand, her drawstring shorts hanging low on her hips, her abs on perfect display.

Nat quickly went to cover her cock with a pillow, sitting up straight. “Shit, I didn’t know you were home.”

Your pussy was dampening from the sight. “No, it’s ok. I was just wondering if you’ve seen my new bikini? I was supposed to go to Wanda’s later today to go swimming.”

Thoughts of you in that bikini swarmed her mind. “No, I haven’t seen it anywhere.”

“Alright. Hey, are you ok?”

The redheads eyes widened. “Uh, yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I walked in on you jerking off. Im sorry.” Your apology was so genuine.

“No, it’s ok. I’m fine.” She tried to not look you up and down. You wearing short denim shorts and a tight blue tank top that showed off your curves perfectly. And the trashy Smokey eye you wore that she desperately wanted to ruin.

“It’s not. Your cock is still hard. I gave you blue balls! I have to fix it!” You we’re rushing over to her bed in an instant, crawling up towards her legs.

“No, no. You really don’t have to.”

You took the pillow off and wrapped your hand around her cock. “No, I should. Since it’s my fault.” And you licked it up, lightly giving kitten licks to the head, before sinking your mouth down her length.

“Fuck.” She hissed, bucking her hips into your mouth.

“Where’d you learn to suck like this? Fucking hell.” You bobbed your head up and down, wetting it with your saliva.

You took her dick out of your mouth with a loud pop, and smiled. “I love to suck dick.”

“Yeah? You love sucking dick? Then keep going. Make me cum.” And so, you continued to suck her off. Her hand gripped your hair harder and harder as she came closer and closer to the edge.

“Oh fuck baby. Come on, make me cum like a good girl.”

You gagged, choked, and spit on her cock and she released her load down your throat. “Ohhhh fuck. Fucking yes. So pretty, swallow that cum babe.” And like the good girl you were, you swallowed all her cum.

You looked up and her and smiled, “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“Yeah? Well I’ve always wanted my dick sucked by a sexy little thing like you. Now give me that pussy.”

[tojisun]

OMG. the helmet!!:!!:!: this might be biker simon https://pin.it/3aqBTs5

holy fuck the details on that??? AND THE MUSSY HAIR????

THIS MIGHT BE BIKER!SIMON FR

…ok but it def terrified you when you first saw his helmet 😭

you’ve been hearing johnny joke about simon being in his emo phase, talking about a skull helmet and teasingly call it cringe so you had… low expectations about what it could look like. you’ve seen graphic art on helmets before so you ascribed those to simon’s – a helmet you haven’t seen yet given that simon kept picking you up with his car instead so you never got the chance to glance at the art.

one night, simon messaged you saying that he’d crash at your place for the time being. the meet dragged on, apparently it’s because many members were preparing for the upcoming rally, and you replied to him, saying that he give you a call so you can unlock the door for him.

it’s two in the morning when simon calls, his muffled voice ragged from exhaustion as he tells you he’s outside. you mumble sleepily to him, dismissing his murmured apologies as you amble towards your door.

you peer through the peephole, fear dousing your previous exhaustion because what the fuck is that on the other side of your door.

“sweetheart?” simon’s voice crackles from your phone and you jolt, air rushing back into your lungs. you quietly turn, speeding away from your door to lock yourself in your bathroom, panicked breaths rasping from your dry lips.

“si,” you whisper, your voice broken from a building sob. “there’s someone outside my apartment.”

“what?!” simon replies, his own exhaustion morphing into concern. “do you see them from your room? are you safe?”

“yes,” you murmur, afraid to speak any louder. “i-i don’t know where you are right now but i saw them from my peephole and- si, i’m scared.”

there is an unusual pause on the other line, something you don’t expect from simon, before hearing him breathe in deeply and exhale with a trembling laugh.

“shit, baby,” he says, his voice racked with mirth. “fuck, this is on me but, uh, that’s me that you saw.”

…what?

“what?” you repeat out loud.

“what you might’ve seen is my helmet. remember how i customized it with a skull design?” he clarifies, still sounding so fond before a muffled thumping echoes from his line. then, “i removed my helmet so if you want to check again, you’d see it’s me.”

you nibble on your bottom lip, feeling your heart begin to calm down. “y’promise?”

“on my life, baby.”

that’s all you needed before tiptoeing back to your door, hearing the way simon is still murmuring soft assurances of your safety, and peering through the peephole. you see simon – mussed up hair and exhausted eyes, but that’s simon alright.

you fling your door open, forgetting that you were in a call with him, and instantly dive into his arms. simon catches you with a quiet oof before fixing his arms around you properly.

“shh,” simon whispers, pressing kisses on the top of your head. “i’m home now. y’r safe.”

“m’sorry,” you sniff, embarrassment filling you up now as the panic completely bleeds away.

simon chuckles before pinching your chin to make you look at him. he smiles at you softly when you finally meet his eyes. “nothin’ to be sorry for, baby. i’m proud of you for going to safety and telling me right away.” he kisses your forehead. “you did good, sweetheart.”

he cuddles you as you two sleep and tomorrow morning, he shows you his helmet.

he pulls you to his lap, resting his chin on your shoulder as he points at the engraving, telling you about the multiple trial-and-error helmets he’s gone through until he’s finally found the one that he truly liked.

“mm, it’s pretty,” you say, pretending last night didn’t happen

simon kisses your neck. “i’m glad y’like it.”

your lips wobble at the realization that simon is also down to pretend with you.

you shift on his lap and pepper his face with kisses, humming in delight when warm palms cup your ass to push you closer towards him.

(simon doesn’t tell johnny but johnny knows anyway. he drops beside you with a crooked grin, his shoulder bumping yours.

“so you finally saw the helmet?” he asks.

you nod, ignoring the sudden warmth of embarrassment that fills your cheeks. johnny laughs.

“scary, huh?”

“yup,” you say, popping the ‘p’.

he hums, shaking his head. “made me almost piss my pants, lass. y’r not alone.”

that punches a laughter out of you.)

i live for johnny n reader friendship <333

also ignore how long-ish this turned out again 😭 my fingers truly slipped

[brighttears]

Pheromones

Joel Miller x f!reader

No physical description other than having hair and female sex organs, no use of y/n

Summary: while searching through a mall with Tess, Joel, Tommy, and the couple others in your small group, you and Tess find a makeup store and decide to have some fun. It drives Joel crazy and you find out that he has just as big of a crush on you as you do on him. You sort it out in a furniture store. (Takes place pre-Boston)

Word count: 6k

Warnings: smut (minors dni), unprotected PiV, rough sex, Joel has a big ol wiener, public sex, hair pulling, creampie, Joel calls you a slut (with permission), dirty talk, pet names (baby, babygirl, pretty girl, sweetheart)

A/n: here’s another one from the drafts and some nastiness for the folks at home before I disappear for like a week bein busy 

—

“Ok, I’m warning you right now, Joel is going to fucking love this.” Tess tells you as she sweeps her finger over your eyelid with a very sparkly shadow called ‘lazy lapis’. You sit crossed legged in front of her next to a dirty floor length mirror, a collection of various makeup supplies spread between you.  

You giggle nervously, trying very hard to sound unbothered or confused or indifferent or something, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Joel,” she smiles, “you’re gonna drive him fuckin’ nuts with this.”

“Pff—what do you mean? Why?” You laugh too hard.

“Oh, you don’t have to lie to me. I can tell, and it’s the most entertaining shit I’ve seen in awhile so I’m encouraging you, actually.” She moves your head in her hands, pulling your other eyelid closed to brush on more sparkly blue.

You chuckle and nudge a question further, “Why is it gonna drive him crazy?”

“Because he’s a man, and he already thinks you’re hot, and I doubt he’s seen anyone done up like this in fuckin’ years. You really don’t have to do much at all to get him all hot and bothered. I’m surprised I haven’t caught him drooling already. Now, with the skirt and the shaved legs? Sister, he is done for.”

“Shut up.” You chuckle.  

“I’m right, and I can still tell you’re red under all that blush.”

“Fuck off!” You giggle, swatting her hands away, “Ok, that’s enough, your turn.”

“Fine, fine.” Tess smiles, handing you the palette, dropping her hands in her lap and closing her eyes for you with one more chuckle. 

You consider the sparkly palette and dip into ‘mossy mess’ to stroke gently over Tess’s lids. 

“So, you trying to make anyone ‘hot and bothered’?” You ask her.

“No one in particular. If the right one comes–a–knockin’, though…” You both laugh. “You’re lucky you’ve got one, though.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, one locked and loaded. Not trying to sound flippant, I just mean—and you can deny it all you want, and I know you’re both still just kickin’ rocks, but he’s got you and you’ve got him. That’s a special thing. It’s not just fucking.”

You hold her chin, tilting to assure it’s mostly even. “We’re not fucking.”

“Not yet you’re not.” She smiles. 

You remain quiet as you even out the eyeshadow on either side, glad that her eyes are closed so she can’t see how red you are. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no, no, you’re fine, Tess. Here, look,” you take your hands away from her face and turn her to the mirror. While she turns her head left and right, examining herself, you comment, “Green is totally your color.” and smile. She returns a light one, then goes back to staring at herself. Finally, you ask softly, “…You ok?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just, haven’t… seen myself in makeup in a long time.” She chuckles, but you can see melancholy behind it in her eyes. She flattens strips of hair over her shoulders and down her chest.

“You look really beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She replies softly, then blinks, clears her throat, and turns to you with a smile. “Alright, where’s the lipstick?” 

Allowing back some childish fun, you both giggle, debating shades, laughing at their names, and making fun of each other. You settle on a pink lipgloss for her and she talks you into a blood red matte. The finishing touch is struggling to pencil on eyeliner and applying mascara. 

When you’re both all done, Tess whistles and you’re stuck on your reflection. It is a bit startling, firstly because of the bright colors Tess has picked out for you, and because of how much it changes your look. She shifts behind you and lays her head on your shoulder so that your faces are side by side. For a moment you just gawk at each other, then laugh. 

It’s a bit of a shock for both of you. One aspect is the experience itself, being ‘girlfriends’, playing with makeup, talking about boys, and feeling pretty. Your mind isn’t sure what to do with it—savor it, try to isolate it, forget what waits outside, or grieve for what’s already inside with you, what you can’t escape, no matter how much you pretend. 

Tess decides for you, sighing, “You know, I really, really missed this.”

You hum. “I never saw myself ever doing this at all.” You add, “But I’m really glad I’m doing it with you.”

She smiles brightly at you in the mirror. “Me too, kid.”

“Kid?” You turn to her with a smirk.

“You know I’m never gonna stop calling you that.” Tess slaps your shoulder after she pushes herself up from it. “Come on, we gotta get back. They’ll be sending out a search party any second.”

—

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Tommy announces your presence as you and Tess show yourselves back in the food court, getting the attention of the other three scattered around. Joel stands frozen facing you until Clancy throws a spoon at him, which then pings on the floor followed by Clancy’s laugh. Joel turns his head to him with a completely blank expression, except for his slack jaw, which remains down when he looks back at you. Tess elbows you, you shove her back, glancing at him a couple times before sitting down with Tess at a table across from Tommy and setting your packs down, the other seat filled by Neveah with signature lightning speed. 

“Was wonderin’ what was takin’ you two so long.” Tommy remarks, smirking. 

“You didn’t come and get me?” Nevaeh pouts dramatically. 

“We brought some things for you!” You assure her, and Tess sets on the table the paper bag you loaded up for her, which Nevaeh squeals over as she unpacks.

“Could you not make that fucking sound?” Clancy scolds, making Nevaeh’s smile fade and she hunches over a little, sticking her tongue out and making a face at the table instead of him. 

“Hey, could you suck my fucking dick, maybe?” Tess calls at him, humor absent on her face. She’s pretty much the only person he’s afraid of, and therefore pretty much the only one he’ll take seriously when she takes that tone. 

Refering to your perfume, he calls back, “You fucking stink, by the way.” 

“Smell way fuckin’ better than you.” Tess returns. 

He gives her a face but shuts up, turning back to digging through the ruins of an Auntie Ann’s. Tommy snickers. 

“You find anything good?” Tess asks him.

“I did not, but Joel found a furniture store.” “What’d you find in there?”

“Haven’t checked it out yet, wanted to touch base with you two first.”

“Well I wanna sit down, how about you go sweep it with him?” Tess looks at you. You stare at her, she stares unrelentingly back, smiling, “Come on, he’s not that bad.” You stomp on her foot, she cackles, and when you look at Joel he’s staring right back at you, looking like a deer in the headlights. Refusing isn’t really an option, because for one, it’ll look weirder to everyone else than if you just go, and you don’t want to hurt Joel’s feelings either. You do work well together, plus you’re friends, you like spending time with him, and… well, yeah, you kind of hope Tess is right about this ‘driving him fucking nuts’. You offer him a small smile and get up. 

“Go on, Joel, don’t leave the little lady hangin’.” Tommy says to him, Joel shoots him a look, and he cackles just like Tess had to you.

“It’s a big place,” Joel says as he joins you, “it might take a minute. But if we’re not back in an hour, start worryin’.” He calls over his shoulder as he starts out of the food court. 

“Alright, just scream if you find anything weird.” Clancy jokes. 

“Will do.” You salute him, turning on your heel to follow Joel. 

—

It’s silent for a few minutes before you break it to ask, “Are we almost there?”

“Uh, yeah, just around this corner here.”

“Pretty far.”

“Yeah.”

There’s only your footsteps until you’re at the wide glass doors, shattered along with the rest of the panels fronting the shop. 

You take your gun and flashlight from your pockets, crossing them over each other as he does and follow him in. 

The store is quite big, but wider rather than deep, with a separate room connected by a large open doorway. It doesn't take long to clear the first half due to it being one big open room, so all you have to do is walk around the perimeter, easily able to see over mostly tables, chairs, and couches, assisted by clear lighting coming through the open front windows. Joel glances back at you as you step into the next room, which is darker, the front windows covered by hanging racks of colorful, patterned rugs. Your heart rate increases as you flip through the racks, but there’s nothing hiding between them. The rest of the room is also relatively easy to run through though, being mostly beds. Once all cleared, you both take a deep breath and sit down on one of the large beds in the back corner, down the hall from the open doorway. The give from the bed surprises you and you let yourself sink in. 

“Wow.” You chuckle, looking at Joel.

“This must be one of those orthopedic mattresses,” he comments, lips curled. 

“If I laid down on this I would be asleep in fucking minutes, I guarantee it.”

You both chuckle, and then feel yourselves realize at the same time that you are currently sitting on a bed together, alone. You look down at your bare knees, pressed together, but don’t move. 

“So you did your makeup.” He says.

“Yeah, with Tess.” You look up at him and smile, then decide to add, “Do you like it?”

Joel’s eyes linger for a few seconds and then fall to his feet. “Yeah, I do. Been a long time… since I’ve seen uh… a woman in makeup.”

“Been a long time since I’ve been in it.” You stand then, making him look back up at you, and hold your arms out, “Do you like my outfit, too?” Underneath your normal jacket is a new shirt, actually your size rather than scrounged from other people’s belongings, and below it is a short skirt. You took an actual pair of pants, too, but just for fun, you decided to try this out, even if just for a few hours; and, when you picked it out, you did have him on your mind, just a little bit.

Joel looks you over, throat bobbing as he swallows, “Yeah, yeah,” he swallows again and looks down, “I–I do.” His smirk is shy when he looks back up at you, “Makes me feel like a man.” 

“You are a man.” 

“Well I know, but it just… y’know, you look like… a woman. Not to say you don’t usually, I mean, well, you look… desirable—shit, that sounds bad. You always look desirable, I just mean, uhm,” Joel clears his throat, panic visible in his eyes, and you can’t hold back the smile growing on your lips. Tess was right. “I’m not tryna—I mean, I just, fuck, I’m tryna say you look really good. And you know, there’s not a lot of… mainstream, uh, girly stuff left, and it just looks really good on you.”

“Why does that make you feel like a man?”

“Eh, uh, b–because… I guess what fits better is that you make me wanna be a man. More of a man.”

“What’s being more of a man?”

Joel is completely lost in how to respond. No way can he get away with being as crass as you’re kind of asking him to be. Nothing he thinks of trying to say sounds right, either patronizing you, accidentally insulting you, being mean, or lying. 

You take a huge risk, based on your trust in Tess, and he watches you with wide eyes as you walk over, bending his head up when you’re over him, and removing his hands from his lap when you sit down on it. You wrap an arm over his shoulders. Moving fluidly and automatically, one of Joel’s hands goes to your lower back, the other smoothing over the end of one of your legs, down your knee, resting at the top of your shin.

“You shave your legs?” He asks, soft but audibly astonished. Round brown eyes look up at you and you allow your free hand to rest over his chest. 

“Mh–hm.” You nod. 

His eyes flutter. 

“You wanna fuck me, Joel?”

He swallows. At this point, you’re sure you’re right, you just don’t know if you can actually ask him, like that, like this, now. He blinks. Out of embarrassment, your face heats and your heart begins to race. You nervously pull the fabric on his shoulder into a fists and then smooth it back out, looking for every clue you can in how his face moves. 

“Yes.” He finally admits, mostly plain, a little nervous. Then, he swallows again, and looks into your eyes while he moves his hand back up your leg, over your thigh, slowly into your skirt. Your lips part as his fingers graze over the very top of your thigh. He slows more as he lays his hand flat, then inches it down to inbetween your legs. You open them up, but he pulls them apart himself further to slide his hand down over your front, thumb resting on the top of one of your thighs while the rest of his digits pet over your pussy. A breathy moan escapes you and he breathes deeply out through his nose. His eyes flick to your lips and you lean down slowly to meet his. The softness of the kiss doesn’t last long, and while one of your hands grips his hair, moving your mouth into his, the other is tugging at the collar of his shirt. 

The heat is on, and Joel moves quick, pulling his arm around your back to maneuver you onto the bed, leaning over you to keep his tongue in your mouth, one hand on the bed and the other back down under your skirt. You grasp the front of his shirt in both fists as if to secure his position and eagerly link to his mouth, concern over the lipstick a ghost of a thought, that of the others out there not much more of one. Fuck all of that, you don’t even care if they hear you.

Joel removes his hand from you and you whimper, but they go to your hands on his shirt and you let him take them to instead intertwine with his and press into the bed. 

“Fuck,” he breathes outs, hot into your mouth, “baby,” you whine at the nickname, biting his lip to pull his mouth back in. He has to pull away to get a chance to speak, both breathing hard, your hands trapped against the bed. Joel’s eyes wander down to your chest as it rises and falls, then back up, pausing at your lips, then up to your eyes. “Goddamn, baby girl, look at’chou.” You whine and chuckle and his teeth flash. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yeah,”

“Shit,” he takes a long breath out and hums, looking over you again. He pauses over you, then leans down for a softer, sensual kiss. The end is drawn out, neither of you able to take your lips away, until he raises up again, freeing your hands, but then comes back down, using his arm on the bed once again to hover over you while his other hand slides over your face. His expression alone has you soaking wet, you’ve been dreaming of something like this for months, pretty much ever since you met him, and finally, here it is, literally on top of you. His mouth is smeared with red and you can’t help but chuckle. 

“What?” He asks, breathing a chuckle with his eyes stuck on your lips. 

“You look good in lipstick.”

“Shit, it’s all over me, isn’t it?” You nod and giggle. “Well I’ll deal with that later.” He leans down to your lips again, his hand smoothing up and down your leg. The heat between you is electrifying, snaking tongues and bodies rolling to meet each other. Inside your chest, rising high and dipping low, is its own event, hot, heart rapid, butterflies and all. It reaches down between your legs, too—quivering, throbbing, a needy sensation. Joel does something to your body that you don’t even consciously understand. All you know is he’s not touching enough of you, so you pull your legs in to draw him closer. He follows your lead and lets his groin press against yours, hand feeling over your inner thigh, so sensitive, his touch the only one you want there, you’d trust there. 

He pulls his face away then, looking over your face as he slides his hand up to your chest, kneading your breast, then comes up under your shirt, twisting your nipple in between his fingers. You let out a shaky breath, watching him watch you with his jaw slack. 

“Joel,” you whine quietly, unsure of what you’re begging for, just more.

“Mmm, you need me to fuck?” He growls into your mouth. 

“Fuck, yes,”

“I’ll give you what you need babygirl, don’t’chou worry.” Joel smirks, eyes fixed on yours as he takes the hand from your chest down to undo his belt in one swift motion. He quickly undoes his jeans and pushes them down enough to free his cock, as large as you expected, hard and colored by veins. Joel pumps it slowly, his hips rolling into his own hands. “Shit, you’ve got me fuckin’ going. Need you so bad, baby girl.”

You furrow your brow at him; you couldn't help this pleading expression if you tried. You’ve had sex, even good sex, during the apocalypse, but never has someone taken much actual time for foreplay. And, you’ve never had sex with someone you’re this attracted to, nope, not by far. 

“Joel, fuck me,” you whine quietly. 

With a growl, Joel stands on his calves, keeping one hand up your shirt and the other still on his manhood, then shifts his hand up to work at removing your jacket and shirt. While you take it off yourself, in the brief moments where it blocks your vision, you feel Joel pulling at your skirt and panties at the same time, and when you can see again as you toss your clothes off the side of the bed, it’s at the perfect moment—Joel is pulling his t-shirt up over his head, his arms stretched up showing off the muscles as they shift with his movements, the roundness of his belly, and his pants already down with his hard length almost touching his belly. He doesn’t bother moving his jeans down anymore, just grabbing your thighs to tug you closer to him, then hooks an arm under one of your legs to hold up. His free hand slithers over you, feeling your hips, belly, around your waist, over your breasts, up to your face. His thumb pulls at your lip, trailing red down your chin. 

“You wearin’ all this to get me goin’, huh? All that perfume. God damn been so long since I’ve seen a woman so prettied up like this. You’re gorgeous, you know that? Lookin’ like a fuckin’ pornstar.” Joel leans down, forcing your leg further up under his arm, and drags heavy lips over yours. When he pulls away your lipstick is streaked all over his mouth and you laugh breathily. 

Joel smirks, then drawls,“Pretty girl.” As he speaks, his hand slides back down your body to back between your legs, making you gasp.

“Sooooo fuckin’ wet for me. Can I call you a slut, sweetheart?” He quickly checks in, you laugh and nod. “Yeah, you know you are.” While his thumb circles your clit he eases a finger inside of you. Your head leans back and you moan out because Joel’s finger is inside of you. That’s his trigger finger, too. “Yeeeah, I know, baby. You need a big man to make you feel good, don’t’chou baby? Huh?” He curls his finger and you gasp deeply, rolling back until your back arches, eyes closed, overwhelmed with pleasure. He hasn’t even done much, but your want for him makes every move more sensitive. “God fuckin’ damn it, that’s right baby. That’s right.” Joel removes his finger and you lay back flat to watch him dramatically lick your juices off of it, briefly closing his eyes as he does. Then, he shifts his hips closer, “Imma give you what you want now, babygirl, what you need, my big fat cock inside you, my pretty little fuckin’ slut.” And he does, taking himself in his hand to slowly glide into you, all the way in, and as you whine a moan he sucks in a breath. Once inside, he starts to very slowly pull in and out, only by an inch at most first. His fingers dig into your thigh that he holds against his hip. His other arm, hooked under your leg, angles to raise it up straight, sliding his hand up so that he can kiss your ankle as he moves, pulling farther out for longer strokes in. Joel fills you completely, just on the verge of pain, but the foreplayed paid off, as does the level of attraction you feel for him, widening you up for him, ready, wanting, carnal. 

You’re noisy as he speeds up, hitting your head back on the bed repeatedly and grasping at the sheets. 

“Joel you’re so big,” 

“I know I am, and I know you love it. Yeah, you need a real man to show you how it’s done. You did yourself up just so I’d fuck you didn’t you? Huh?” He emphasizes his question with a jolt, hitting against your limit. 

Head back and arms spread, you answer, “Yes, yes, Joel, harder like that,” 

“Mmm. Yeah?” Brutally, he obliges, and slips directly into your A spot, his length able to easily hit that area near your cervix. You react loudly and throw an arm down, reaching generally towards him. “You were lookin’ for a big man to fuck you good, that’s what you need. You need this,” Joel bucks into your harder, firmly hitting that spot inside of you that twists a snake of pleasure up through your whole body, making your chest feel full and you relax your legs, letting them fall open farther for him, overwhelmed with need for him. The only thought in your head is—

“Joel, yes, more, god, please, fuck,”

“Tell me you’re my little slut, my pretty little slut.”

“I’m your pretty little slut, fuck, uh-huh,” you whine out a high “yeah,” 

As he lowers his grip to your hip, your leg falls back over his hooked arm, and he copies the position with his other. Your legs bump against his arms as he slaps against you, his hair bouncing with the force of it, and to the beat of skin against skin are your moans and his grunts, growls, moans, and voice, telling you things like “Pretty woman needs a real man to fuck her” “All prettied up just for me” “That feel good?” “I fill you up so good?” and you accompany with a chorus of “Fuck” “Oh my god” “Yes” “So good” “I need you so bad” “Fuck me fuck me”

“Oh, fuck,” Joel’s voice shakes and he removes one of his hands under you, “Can I pull your hair baby?”

“Yes,”

One hand still holding your hip for him, his other holding a bundle of hair down into the bed, you get a full show of his mouth, forming O’s, licking and biting his lips, his eyes intermittently squeezes shut, rolling up, his head leaning back then returning to you, to watch himself slam into you, watching your chest bounce, on your lips, back in your eyes. 

“My beautiful lady, all made up for me to fuck, baby can I cum in you?”

“Yeah,” you moan out.

“Yeah, you’re made for me to cum in. You made up just for me to cum in, ah, fuck,” Joel’s head flips back and when it returns he removes his arm from under your thigh, pressing deeper into you to make up for the grip, then held in place by his body on yours as he drops down. One arm falls to support his hovering, forearm on the bed, so that he can rub his other hand over your face. He drags his thumb out from your eyelid, pulling both the color and mascara, making your eyes water, “Pretty woman, waitin’ for your man,” his fingers drag down to your open mouth, then gently squeezes your cheeks and swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, “to fuck you good. Only a man can fuck a woman this good. Isn’t that right?”

“Uh–huh,”

Joel hums, then, more devouring your mouth rather than kissing you, nipping at your lips, swirling his tongue, dragging his wet mouth around yours. 

The bed is shaking wildly now as he bucks his hips against yours, deep, hard, and fast, in the most erotic fashion you’ve ever experienced—not the jackhammer, copying porn kind, but a genuinely lustful force, still directly in the spot that derives a satisfaction that pulls your legs around him, holding him in place as you draw closer to your climax.

This movement makes Joel almost chuckle, and he fucks even more impassioned. The forearm on the bed lifts for his hand to find yours, intertwining your fingers to hold down on the bed. He keeps his other hand on your face, cupping your cheek. “You need me, you need me, tell me you need me baby,” you can tell Joel is nearing the edge by the way his tone heightens. 

“I need you, I need you, I need you,” you obey truthfully. 

“My god, can’t believe I get to fuck you like this, I get to cum inside you, cause I’m your man, you’re my woman, and I make you feel good,” Joel punctuates perfectly with one hard, deep thrust that finally takes you out. Your free hand awkwardly grabs at his wrist near your face as you torso rolls off the bed, as high as it can with his body pressing you down. Your legs squeeze around him and then release to open as wide as they can, and all you can think about is how much you need him to keep fucking you, how much you want him to cum inside of you, and you remember how much he’ll want to hear it, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming you make me feel so good please cum inside me I want you to cum inside my pussy, ahh, mmm, show me I’m yours Joel, fuck me like I’m yours,”

“Oooohh, baby,” Joel drawls, your mouths lazily and helplessly dragging over each others as Joel bounces you up and down underneath him, “I’m gonna cum,”

You reach your free hand up to grip his hair and tell him, “Finish inside me Joel I need your cum in my pussy, my pussy just for you, I’m yours, fuck your cum into me, fuck me til you can’t anymore, I wanna take all of it, I wanna make you feel good, I wanna make my man feel good, let me make you feel good Joel,”

He goes silent for one moment and then his whole body rocks into you, face messily pressed on yours, both of you releasing open mouthed moans, which he grunts through with his last final bucks, stroking out his ropes of cum. He slows, but stays inside you, fully riding his orgasm out, basically slurping your lips. You lay nearly limp under him, still grasping his hand, then moving your other over his cheek, watching his expression as he finishes. 

After a few more moments, he finally slides out of you and then sits back up on his calves to hike his jeans back up. When he’s covered, both hands come back down to smooth back and forth your thighs, shamelessly staring at your still open pussy. 

“Guess it doesn’t matter if we make a mess on this bed.” You chuckle, and he smiles up at you, teeth parted with a tug on one side of his lips. He shifts back up to over you to kiss you again with a long, soft moan, then sits back up, pulling your panties and skirt back up with one hand to then gracefully lift you back up to straddle his lap. His arm wraps around your waist with one over your cheek, and your hands come to rest on his bare chest, bare belly’s on each others. 

He strokes his thumb over your cheek. “I fucked you’re makeup up, sorry.” He mumbles, smiling. 

“It’s alright, it was just for you, anyways.”

“Really?” Joel smirks shyly. 

“Kinda, yeah,” you smile back. 

“Lucky me.”

You chuckle, reaching your hand up to swipe your fingers over his lips. “We gotta remember to take yours off, too.”

Joel closes his eyes and chuckles, “Shit, yeah we do.”

You hum a chuckle back, watching your fingers. How long you’ve been wanting to be able to touch him like this, be this close to him. 

“This took too goddamn long.” He mumbles, and you blush at his thoughts matching yours. 

“Sure did.” Then, you swallow, smile fading. 

“What is it, baby?”

You look down but keep your hand on his face, savoring the touch. “I guess I should have said this before, but, I don’t want this to be… like… I don’t want to just be your fuck buddy.” 

“Oh, no, no,” Joel quickly answers, “I don’t want that either. I really like you.” 

You look back up at him and he swallows hard under your gaze. A relieved smile slowly spreads over your lips and you slide your hand to the back of his neck, looping a finger in his hair. “I really like you, too.” You chuckle then, “I feel like a teenager.”

Joel grows his own smile, “Me too.” 

You kiss him again then, gentle and slow. When you pull back, he hums with a slanted smile, eyes half lidded. 

“We should probably get back.” You whisper. 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Joel sighs, then lets you out his grasp. 

You slide down and get off the bed to stand, looking around you, “Shit, how am I gonna get this off?” You wipe your hands over your face, only really dragging the makeup around. 

Joel slips off the bed to stand, searching around with you before reaching around to grab the corner of the sheet. “Here,” he pulls it up to begin stroking it over your face. His brow is slightly pinched as he goes, methodically removing your makeup for you. Then he stands back some and sighs, “Good ‘nough.”

“Your turn,” you take the sheet from him and wipe at his mouth. The lipstick is more resistant, but the remaining saliva helps to get off as much as you can, though the act itself is a bit distracting. 

“Alright, that’s the best I can do.” You look back up to his eyes and stop in his dreamy gaze. 

“You’re blushing.” He whispers with a slight smirk. 

“You’re dreamy.” You admit freely. 

“Dreamy?” He smirks further. 

Sheepishly, you say, “Yeah,” but your shyness is relieved when his lips meet yours again. You drop the sheet to smooth your hands over his still unclothed shoulders and Joel rests his hands on your hips. 

He pulls away then, keeping hold of your body, “Alright, we really should get going.” You nod, sighing, then let go for him to grab his shirt and jacket to pull back on while you do the same. 

You watch each other as you adjust yourselves, and then Joel leans in, pulling your cheek for a quick kiss. He keeps his hand there when he whispers, “You’re so damn beautiful.” You feel your cheeks warm again. Then he steps back with a slanted smile, “Gotta admit, that's the best sex I’ve had in years.”

“God, me too.” You both chuckle, then he reaches over to take your hip and turn you back to walk down to the door next to him. 

“Alright, let’s go before they come lookin’.”

—

“Hey! You wiped off all my hard work!” Tess calls out as you approach. She, Tommy, Nevaeh, and Clancy are now all gathered at a table, talking and laughing while Nevaeh sorts through her pile of makeup.

“Ah, it just got annoying.” You lie with a nervous smile and tug at the hem of your skirt, “I’m just not used to it. It feels, like, heavy, you know? So I just took it off.”

“Mmm.” she nods, completely unconvinced. 

“So, all clear?” Tommy shouts over to you. 

“All clear.” Joel replies.

As you sit, you see Tess turn her attention to Joel next to you with a smirk, tapping her finger at a spot just under her lip. Joel quickly takes the hint and attempts to stealthily wipe away what must be stray lipstick. Tess shakes her head, trying to hide her laughter, and you focus down on the table, amused but embarrassed and a bit nervous of who else may have noticed. Being the good friend that she is, Tess speaks up, loudly beginning an unrelated conversation. Soon, you feel safe enough to look back up and join the conversation. Under the table, Joel sneaks a quick squeeze of your knee and then you lean it into his. He turns to you, smirk visible in his eyes as he looks up and down your face, and then turns back to the conversation, pressing the side of his legs against yours. 

“You know, I like it in here.” Nevaeh comments, swiping colors over her wrist. 

“We could always stay here for a night or two, there's that furniture store, beds in there right?” Tommy turns to you to ask. 

You and Joel both freeze. You’re tempted to lie, but Joel clears his throat and speaks before you do. “Uh yeah, but they’re all pretty dirty.”

“Are they now?” Tess raises her eyebrows with a smirk and you try not to smile back, widening your eyes and shooting her a look.

“Yeah, I mean, they’re been sittin’ in there for fuckin’ years.” Joel recovers. 

“Fair enough,” Tess says, pointedly not looking at either of you, “Plus, who knows who's done what on those? Fucking golden opportunity for anyone who’s even thought about fucking whoever they’ve come in this place with.” 

“Gross!” Nevaeh screws her face up at her.

“She’s not wrong.” Clancy says, leaning back in his chair. You catch him glancing at her next to him and laugh. “What?” He demands defensively. 

You shake your head, still chuckling, “Nothing.”

“Well, there’s always couches, right?” Tommy asks, looking at Joel.

“Plenty a’ couches.” He assures him, nodding.

“There we are then. We’ll stay the night at least.” Tommy decides and you all nod in agreement.

When you turn to Joel he gives you a knowing look, eyes widened with a slight smirk, and squeezes your knee under the table. You slide your hand down over his and he slips in into his, intertwining your fingers. You remind yourself to thank Tess later.

[yanderemommabean]

Can we get some yandere Geto going down on a transmasc reader? Pretty please 🙏

((Hi I hope this is ok! Im not too confident but here goes nothing!))

You were so sensitive, head pressing back against the pillow, thighs shaking against your will as you were put on full display. Sugurus calloused fingers made you feel a fluttering pressure as you closed your eyes and try to process anything this gorgeous psycho was saying. 

“You’ve been mine since I laid eyes on you, yet you refuse to let me service you the way you deserve. Tsk tsk tsk”  Geto clicks his tongue in disapproval, dragging his fingers up and down your folds as he wears a rather lascivious smile. “My good boy deserves praise, worship, to be given nothing but devotion, yet you starve us of that. You know I can’t let this continue, don’t you?” 

His voice dropped an octave, deep and angered “You’re slutty hole is quivering for me already. Aching and wanting. Why? Why deny yourself the pleasure we want to give you? It’s angering to think that you’ve been starved of my touch, -my love-  for so long” 

He flicks at your sensitive bud, groaning as he listens to you gasp and struggle to make a sentence. A small bubble of pleasure was forming in his stomach as he drags his thumb up and down your dewy folds, your cute dick begging to be sucked and toyed with as he made you who you were meant to be- 

His and his alone. His to toy with and take apart and to put back together. 

You whimper, barely able to form words as he cruelly begins to flick at your cock again, more wetness dripping from you as Geto presses his face into your wiry hairs and inhales, deep and guttural. Oh how dare you keep this from him? You’ll have to be properly punished once the blood flow is back into his brain and not currently making his cock a precum drooling mess. 

“W-wait no! I-I’m sorry!” You managed to garble out, but it wasn’t really any use, was it? You know Geto is a powerful man, he takes what he wants no questions asked. If he wants to toy with you…

Your body goes taught, his tongue dragging up your skin and swirling around your cock before giving it a gentle suck, making your hips raise and your voice strained. Oh holy fuck his mouth is dangerous- 

He indulges himself, tongue tracing up and down all of your folds as he watches your cock twitch and beg for attention, sliding his wet muscle inside of you as his fingers stroke you up and down, methodical and precise, as if he knew exactly how you liked it. 

Which he should. He’s had his eyes on you for a while. He’s seen you in more ways than you could ever be aware, and he’s been driven nuts by every denial you give to his proposals and offers. 

Well, no more. Geto will have you worshiped and praised, even if he has to chain you down and let the people…have a taste themselves. And who could blame him? How you felt on his tongue, your flavor, a godly nectar he couldn’t get enough of, oh he’s going to drink his fill and then some!

You practically howled, feeling Geto hold your thighs down to get his tongue in deeper, face pressed as close as it could get as his fingers continue to stroke you, hungry and starved like he couldn't get enough. 

You go to try and bite your sleeve to silence yourself, but a harsh bite to your thigh stops you in your tracks, Getos eyes furious and feral as he catches his breath. “If you hide your heavenly melodies from me, I can assure you, you’re going to regret it. Be louder for me. Let me hear you cry as you fall apart”. 

You swallow, eyes watery as Geto continues to lap away at your cock, fingers now curling inside of you and fluttering to hit that specific ridge, causing you to yelp and tense your legs. 

You were helpless, riding the man's face and fingers desperately, unable to push away the instinct to cum, to cover his face in your mess and give the man what he wants. Fruitlessly you yank at his hair, his lips coming to suck on your cock as his fingers crook just right, causing your vision to turn white and your knuckles to clench in his hair. 

The explosion of pleasure has you panting and gasping, words failing to leave your lips as Geto slurps, sucks, and curls his fingers again and again, brutally like he’s punishing you. And in a way, he was. You have turned down every kind offer He’s given you to join his “group”. To be one of the enlightened. No more. He’ll have you with him, and he’s going to ravish you until you simply can’t leave. 

It’s hard to walk when one's legs can’t work, after all. And you’re so sensitive, it should be fun watching you come apart again and again, until you’re crying those pretty tears and can’t push him (or his love) away anymore. 

“Fuck fuck FUCK- “ you cry, that cord in your core finally snapping after a few more rough sucks, his fingers not stopping as you rock against his face and go still, shaking and gasping as the pleasure shoots through you and your eyes can’t help but roll back. 

Oh what a sight to behold. You, sweat covered and disheveled, panting and hiccuping little pleas as Geto continues to toy with you. You aren’t being fair here you know? Being this precious is dangerous with a man like him. 

You wince, a pitiful noise being made as Geto kisses up your stomach, but only moves to hold your legs open again, making sure he left another bite to your other thigh as he feels you quiver and tremble beneath him. “Atta boy. See? That wasn’t so bad now was it?” he asks, his skilled fingers coming to rub up and down your still twitching cock. “Now keep behaving. We have a long night ahead of us, I’d rather it be easy on you”

-Mommabean (I hope you like!)

[webslingingslasher]

ok this is random but😭

i had a dream the other day and idk why i didn’t tell you sooner bc it’s so you/trouble/us coded but i had a dream where i bit my man’s shoulder (im single) (hypothetical dream man) but i but it OFF and woke up crying like his flesh was in my mouth and there was blood and now i csnt jokingly bite my future bf bc i’m traumatised

oh my god. telling this to bf!peter im-

'wake up.' stiff pokes, your touch is swiped away. 'no.' you poke harsher, peter hisses around a breath. 'wake up.' he pulls towards the edge of his bed, you follow right behind.

'go away, i'm sleeping.'

'that's fine, i just need to tell you something.' peter lets out the most dramatic sigh you've ever heard. 'tell me.'

'i can't bite you anymore.'

two days ago you bit him so hard it left a perfect bruise in the shape of your mouth. when you saw it the next day, you cried and told him how sorry you were, peter said it was fine and it didn't hurt. it was kind of sad, peter had never seen you so guilty before.

'don't tell me you're still crying over that. it was an accident and i promise it doesn't hurt.' you frown, you weren't talking about that but you think that's where the idea came from.

'i just had a dream i bit you and like, i bit your arm off.'

peter rolls over, he's got two perfect arms. 'trust me, trouble. you've got jaws of steel, but they're not that strong.' peter's the one who brought it up, you point at the fading purple.

'i did that.'

'and it's still attached.' peter shakes his arm out, 'see? wanna give it a nibble?'

'no! no more biting. no biting ever again, i can't control myself, obviously.'

'it's a minor flesh wound.'

'for now! what if i gave you a staph infection?'

'you didn't give me a staph infection.'

'how do we know that?'

'because you didn't break the skin, trouble.' you stare at the mark, it haunts you still. your lower lip trembles, you hurt him. 'petey,' it's that broken voice, the one that makes peter feel like a teddy bear, the mix between bringing comfort and a sense of protection.

it's all it takes for him to scoop you into his hold. 'c'mere, give me a hug.' you press against him tight. 'i hurt you.' peter holds his lips to your forehead, you caused damage and he's comforting you.

'minorly. i’ve bruised you before, too. i didn’t beat myself up over it.’ you snort, he didn’t cry but he felt terrible. peter went in a little hard on sex one night, his fingertips bruised little marks into your hips where he held you. the next morning he kissed them over and over while he whispered apologies.

‘liar. you freaked the next morning.’ peter hums, he remembers. ‘of course i did. i bruised my girlfriend the same night i got her.’ you want to squeal, each time he says it feels like you take flight.

‘then you understand why i’m upset. i mortally wounded my boyfriend, the person i love most.’ you gasp, you hadn’t even thought of it like this, but it’s even worse.

you push back to stare into his eyes, your thumb brushes over the purple ring. ‘i hurt spider-man!’ you kiss over the bruise, you can’t believe you hurt your hero like this.

‘i almost bit spider-man’s arm off.’

peter rolls his eyes, ‘no, you almost bit your boyfriends arm off.’

‘spider-man is my boyfriend.’

‘peter was your boyfriend first.’ you hold up a finger, ‘technically- you told me you-‘

‘technically nothing. you’ve known peter for longer, that’s who your boyfriend is.’

you shake your head at him. ‘well, technically-‘ peter flips you to your back, you blink wildly at the sudden movement. ‘technically nothing. spider-man was collateral to get peter to be your boyfriend.’

you raise your eyebrows, peter hides his hands under the warmth of your shirt. ‘baby, i only said yes because i knew i’d be dating spider-man.’

peter pouts sympathetically, ‘i hate to tell you this, trouble. but… spidey is pretty upset about the impending staph infection. peter on the other hand… is strong and brave.’

you agree with him. ‘yeah! you’re the strong one, you can handle your arm being bit off. i mean, i’ll never bite you again, but you could handle it.’

‘trouble, as long as you’re the gnawing my arm off, i’d be fine with it.’ you pout up at him, peter thinks he said the wrong thing again and tries to backtrack.

you stop him. ‘i’m not sad, petey. i’m in love. you’d give an arm for me.’ peter gives you three quick kisses, ‘i’d give you anything.’

you murmur against his lips, ‘like being able to call spider-man my boyfriend?’ peter presses in harshly, you think he might’ve bruised your bottom lip in retaliation.

‘almost anything.’

[www-jungwon]

in which jake has no idea what to get his little sister ( he left it last minute ) and you're the sephora worker who got stuck with the last shift before the holidays ୨୧

tw. swearing, stranger!jake has a younger sister au, christmas mentions, yn is sooo embarrasing wc. 958

out of all the ways you’d planned to spend your friday evening before the holidays, working was not one of them. but eunchae had begged you to cover for her, and she covered your shift before thanksgiving.

you glance at your watch. only 30 minutes before closing, which means you should be able to just scroll on your phone in the back. no customers ever come in–

the click of the glass door interrupts your relief.

your first thought, of course, is fuck. who goes to a sephora 30 minutes before it closes? do they have any human decency? and your second thought is, fuck.

the guy who walks into the store looks to be in his 20s, with soft brown hair that frames his face, adorable eyes, and pink pouty lips.

he looks around, sweeping his hand through his hair–his hand is so hot–before his eyes land on you.

you’re too busy contemplating whether or not you just felt attraction to a stranger’s hand to answer him the first time, only snapping out of your thoughts when he walks closer.

“oh, um, sorry, welcome to sephora, what- i was- your hand- i mean, what were you saying?”

his eyebrows cinch briefly in confusion, but he shakes it off (thank god), “hi.” he has the most attractive australian accent you’ve ever heard. “um, i was, like, wondering if you could recommend me a gift for my little sister? i- well,” he laughs sheepishly, and you almost fall onto the ground, “i haven’t gotten her a gift yet,”

“oh! um,” you pause, still trying to focus, but he must take your silence as a bad thing.

“yeah, i feel awful, but i’m just really busy- you must think i’m a horrible brother, i mean- sorry, you don’t care.”

“no, nonono, i do c- i mean, um, yeah, i can- uh, help you..find..a gift.” your voice trails off into silence at the end of your sentence.

he either doesn’t notice the weirdness or chooses to ignore it, his eyes lighting up. “that’s so great! thank you, so much.”

“ok, um,” you start trying to think of a gift for his younger sister and then realize you’re an idiot. “oh, i kind of- uh, sorry, how old is she?” it took you 20 seconds to ask how old the person you’re recommending a gift for is.

“oh!” he laughs, “sorry,”

“no problem,” you’ve never answered anyone so fast in your entire life.

“she’s 16.”

you blink, because that seems really young for how he looks and is he younger than 20 what the fuck, but then he sees your expression.

“5 years apart.”

“oh, no, i didn’t- you didn’t have to- sorry, um, what kinds of things are you looking for, for her? like, makeup, or perfume, or ma- something else?” you literally almost said makeup twice.

“um,” he laughs, “i’m not really sure. i just know that whenever she comes back from the mall she has a sephora bag every time, so i came here in a panic.”

“ok, well is there anything specific you’d like to get her?”

he hesitates again, “sorry…is there anything you’d, like, recommend? what you’re wearing is kind of pretty- i mean, sorry, i didn’t- mean to say that-”

you breathe out a shocked laugh. “well, i’m not sure if a 16 year old would like any of the things i’m wearing, but maybe the glitter eyeshadow, or, like, the lip gloss.”

“um,” he trails off, “sure.”

“ok! do you want to come look at them, or should i just get the same ones?” your only reflex now is to ramble, in fear of him realizing how flustered he’s made you (although you’re sure he already has).

“just the same ones is fine,”

“ok, wait right here then.”

your heart is beating out of your chest as you grab the items, he called you pretty–him, the prettiest person you’ve ever seen in your life–well, technically he called what you’re wearing pretty, and he only said ‘kind of,’ and you should really calm down. except your heart doesn’t seem to agree.

you arrive back at the desk, pulling a sephora bag from underneath the counter.

“oh, sorry, do you want me to wrap this for you?”

“no, that’s fine, i usually wrap things myself, like, as a tradit-i mean, sorry, you don’t care.” that’s the cutest thing ever.

he laughs, “really?”

you almost trip over the desk because there’s no fucking way you just said that out loud.

“um,” you look away, the pitch of your voice raising, “your total is 2700 dollars.”

he blinks. “two- two thousand-”

“i mean! i’m so sorry, i meant, 27 dollars…and 95 cents…” you turn away in embarrassment, and he laughs.

his laugh. his laugh is the prettiest sound, lighting up your heart even though you’re so ashamed you can’t even look over.

“sorry, i’m not- i’m not laughing at you.”

you turn back to glare at him. “yes you are.”

he grins, and you almost fall backwards again at how pretty he is.

he pulls out his wallet, and is that a black card?

“ok,” you hand him the bag, “thanks for shopping with sephora, and i hope you enjoy your holidays.”

he grabs the handle, his fingertips brushing your wrist, and you drop the bag, his hand jerking to catch it.

“s-sorry.”

“no problem,” he looks at your nametag, “y/n.”

he looks back up at you, grinning, “my sister will love these.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. i’ll tell her all about the pretty girl who chose them for me, who thinks i’m cute.”

you glitch, you actually glitch for a second, can’t move or think or anything, and then he’s gone, the door shutting.

your phone chimes with a text from eunchae.

thanks sosososso much for covering my shift im rlly sry, merry christmas

merry fucking christmas indeed.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

part of winters of us, an advent calendar : day 006

comment or send an ask to be added to the taglist !

enhypen tl @cutesiepatootsie @sammm5225

[slutforitoshi]

mikage reo - star student *:･ﾟ✧

ft. reo x f!reader, 18+ minors dni

cw: CORRUPTION KINK, virgin!mc, praise, oral m!receiving and f!receiving, fingering

synopsis: your dear upperclassman teaches you a few new tricks

wc: 1.85k

A/N: confession i was a reo anti until i read the manga LOL

mikage reo is the poster boy for model upperclassman. smart, athletic, and breathtakingly handsome. unlike other seniors he didn’t seem to view the younger years with distaste. after all, he was one of them just a few semesters ago. his generosity knew no bounds, from comped meals to private tutoring lessons. and you happened to be one of those pupils; a sprout eager to learn from the best. 

initially you sought out reo’s help since you happened to hear that he was the first in your school’s history to ace all the physics exams, a subject you were dreadful at. you expected the relationship to be cordial, professional even, but reo’s welcoming disposition made it hard to stay away. 

before you knew it he was assisting you with much more than physics, guiding you even in your personal life. that’s why it didn’t even occur to you as strange to blurt out, “i think i’m finally going to lose my virginity this weekend”

reo’s pencil that was currently scribbling away at his planner grinds to a halt, leaving only the slight hum of your ceiling fan to break the silence. 

shit. you’ve made things awkward. 

“oh my god i’m so sorry i don’t know why i said that,” you apologize immediately, realizing the vulgarity of your words. reo was your senior, and while he has helped you with relationship problems before, you should’ve known this was a leap further than that.

reo turns to you with a light smile though, relieving the regret you felt in your stomach. 

“what’s there to be sorry about? i’m glad you trust me to talk about it” he reassures you, in classic reo fashion. 

“are you sure? i don’t want to make you uncomfortable…” your voice trails off, but reo’s eyes don’t waver. his dear underclassman has a concern, and who else but him to help?

“well…ok. i’ve just been feeling left behind recently in that whole category. all my friends keep talking about their recent hookups, and it’s lame that i haven’t done anything past kissing”

reo’s eyebrows furrow in concern, “don’t tell me you want to have sex because of peer pressure.”  

“no no it’s nothing like that” you quickly shut down his unease, “i just feel like i’m ready for it. i want to join my friends.”

he slowly nods his head, taking in your true thoughts. 

“so how are you gonna do it? are you seeing anyone?”

“nah i was just gonna go to a party and find some semi-cute guy” you shrugged, and it’s clear by his expression that this was the worst idea he’s ever heard.

“you’re gonna settle for some random guy at a party, who will probably be mediocre at best in bed?” he spat, eyes narrowing at the prospect.

you’ve never seen reo like this, almost bitter at your proposed idea.

“i don’t see any other good options” you murmured. there probably were, but those other options included waiting, and you’ve had enough of that.

reo presses his fingertips to his temples, closing his eyes for a moment. 

“you think physics is the only thing i can help you with?”

he opens his eyes, turning towards you with such a piercing stare that it sends shivers down your spine. 

“n-no, of course not. you’ve helped me with loads of things before like math, biology-” you ramble, trying to ignore the quickening pace of your heartbeat. sure you were a virgin, but you weren’t naive. 

“i won’t force you. i’m just expanding your options” his eyes don’t leave you, and as much as you want to hide from his directness, you can’t seem to look away. as much as you wanted to run away, to say no, the growing heat in your abdomen has already made the decision for you. 

“p-please reo, i’m all yours”

“that’s my good girl.”

he places his right hand at the nape of your neck, then pulling you into his lips. gentle, you noted. his kisses showed no sign of aggression or neediness like you’ve experienced from the select few boys you’ve made out with before, but that’s not to say it wasn’t passionate. 

you break the kiss first, leaving your chair to kneel down before his. 

“can i?” you ask, looking intently at the bulge peaking through reo’s pants.

“eager aren’t we” he smirks, pulling down his waistband to reveal your first cock. and it’s impressive. your eyes widen at the length before you, mouth watering. you look up eagerly, lunging forward to envelop the head around your lips as reo gives an encouraging nod. 

“f-fuckk” he gasps, taking in the warmth of your mouth. it’s heavenly. 

you push your limits, inch by inch, until you feel him hit the back of your throat, and the sensation launches you off suddenly. 

“you alright?” reo sits forward, caressing your back as you cough through the result of your eagerness. you nod though, pushing him back into the chair. 

“wanna try again” you murmur, eyes fixated on your conquest. you wrap your lips around him again, taking note of the ache the girth inflicts on your jaw. it’s not an unpleasant feeling, and the view of reo’s eyes rolled back makes it all worth it. 

this time you don’t recoil from the hit, and start your trek up, then down, then up.

“focus on the tip, it’s sensitive there” he instructs, and you oblige, intensifying the bobbing motion near his ridge.

“circle your tongue around it” reo barely finishes his thought before you’re complying to his demands. 

reo’s fingers are digging into chair’s arms, leaving crescent shaped imprints. he couldn’t tell what was more pleasurable: the feeling of your tongue against his tip, or how fucking obedient you were. 

“such a good girl for me, learning so fast”

you hum in content at his praise, sending vibrations that nearly push reo to the edge. that’s enough he thinks, it’s time for the next lesson.

he sits up suddenly, and his cock leaves you with a ‘pop’. you try to object at the sudden emptiness, but he’s already pulling you up, guiding you to the bed. 

“sit back for me, and keep your legs spread” he instructs, tying his purple strands back to keep away from the mess that will surely follow. 

you do as he says, revealing the growing damp spot on the panties underneath your skirt. he dives in, wrapping his arms around your thighs to pull you forward abruptly until his face is hovered above your heat. 

“r-reo-” your eyes widen at the sudden movement, but your voice morphs into a moan as he licks a long stripe above the cloth. 

“let me show you what you deserve” he peels off the drenched panties off your legs, marveling at your glistening folds. 

he makes haste, lunging forward to bury himself between your thighs. the sensation of the soft muscle of his tongue immediately makes you buck your hips forward. 

“f-fuck!” you splutter out, mind blanking as he circles your clit. he had you wondering why on earth you waited so long. strands of purple leaked through your knuckles as you held his head in place. 

a familiar coil builds, one that you’ve only felt through from your own efforts before. 

“you’re close aren’t you?” he smirks briefly before diving in again to chase after your high. 

stars dance across your half closed lids once he adds a finger into your entrance. it’s a stretch you’ve never felt before, but the feeling was more than welcome. then the addition of a second finger has your head falling back against the backboard. 

“your virgin pussy’s so tight” he remarks, noticing how cramped the hole was with only two digits in. his vulgar words brought a blush to your face; who knew the mikage reo could talk so dirty?

the curling of his fingers is what brings you over the edge, until you’re thrashing against the sheets while reo uses his free arm to hold your hips down. 

“how was that for your first orgasm?” 

“so…so good” you manage through your pants. it left you breathless, but he wasn’t finished with you yet. 

reo briefly gets up to roll a condom on while you recover. shit, it’s happening. you were about to kiss your virginity goodbye. 

“i’m gonna go nice and slow okay?” he says, positioning himself above you. a light kiss is placed on your forehead before you feel the tip nudge at your entrance. and then he pushes.

your eyes squeeze shut at the intrusion, nails raking at reo’s back to offset the pain. 

“deep breaths, it’s almost all the way in” he whispers, trying not to cum himself from the absolute bliss that your pussy gives him. 

you both let out a sigh as he bottoms out, and he stills himself, waiting for confirmation to move. 

“please reo” you whine, “make me feel good”

his eyes darken at your pleads, and a flash of possessiveness passes his mind. you were so fragile, and yet here you were begging him to ruin you. 

he builds his pace gradually, knowing the stretch must still cause you discomfort. but by the third thrust, your loud moans were a clear indicator of the pleasure wracking your body. 

“r-reo, feels amazing” 

he responds to your praise with a firm grip on your waist, pulling you in deeper against him, “yeah? don’t you ever settle for anything less than this”

you almost yelp as he scoops one arm around your back to flip you. you’re on your knees now as he’s laid back against the mattress, still buried completely within you.

“want to learn how to ride?” he suggests, lip twitching upwards in a suggestive smile. the challenge was daunting, but a star student like you wouldn’t back down. 

you place your palms against his taut chest, shakily raising yourself up before crashing back down. 

“fuck, you’re a natural” he groans as you sink down again. 

the new position has his tip kissing your cervix, and it’s not long before your thighs are giving out. 

“looks like you need some help” he teases before his hands are supporting your hips, guiding you up and down his length. by the way your walls were fluttering, he could tell you were reaching another high. reo decides to add even more assistance by taking a free hand towards your clit, rubbing circles onto the sensitive bud. 

your body goes slack at the sudden onset of pleasure, but reo has no problem making up for your efforts to ride, still thrusting upwards at impressive speeds. 

“c-cumming again!” you exclaim again before clamping hard against his cock. your pulsating walls are enough for him to unload as well, thrusting erratically to maximize both your orgasms.

you collapse against his chest, limbs completely drained of energy. he laughs lightly at the state he left you in before wrapping his arms around your back and laying another kiss to the side of your temples. 

“reo how am i supposed to fuck anyone else after this” you whine, “you set the bar too high”

“who said we were done? you still have much more to learn”

[n6ptunova]

gamer boy • chris sturniolo

a/n: can’t stop thinking abt gamer chris someone sedate me.

summary: giving chris head while he streams fortnite and tries to keep quiet.

warnings: idk if this counts as smut but suggestive content, blowjob, mentions of sex, not proofread

og fortnite dropped recently which meant your boyfriend has been more occupied than usual. it was seriously an addiction for this man, he stayed up for hours, forgot to eat, and worst of all- in your opinion- he barely paid any attention to you nowadays. you’ve had enough tho, so tonight you’re changing things up.

you sat on one side of chris’ bed, out of frame, since him and his brothers decided to stream today. you were mindlessly scrolling through your phone waiting for them to finish but it was taking too long. you looked over at chris and he’s never looked more fine, his hair was messy underneath the headset, his eyes serious and focused on the screen, his mouth parted- occasionally licking or biting his lips- you wanted him, you missed having chris all over you, his lips on yours, his dick inside you, you needed him. bad.

fuck it. you thought to yourself getting down on the floor and crawling quietly towards chris’ desk without being seen or heard. he briefly glanced down at you, not thinking much of your position, you’re probably just looking for something.

you put your hand on his knee slowly pushing his chair back so you could get underneath the desk fully. once you sat down on your knees you pulled him back so his crotch was right in front of your face. now he was confused. he couldn’t say anything since he was livestreaming with his brothers so he resorted to furrowing his eyebrows and giving you a quick questioning look- immediately looking back at the screen so he doesn’t look suspicious- or lose.

you put your pointer finger on your lips indicating for him to be quiet and started to slide both your hands up his thighs reaching for the waistband of his shorts. he was caught off guard by this causing him to lose the game, “NO FUCK- bro one second i need to use the bathroom.”

he turned off his camera and muted his mic, “what the fuck are you doing?” he didn’t sound annoyed or angry just confused.

“i miss you, chris. you haven’t been paying any attention to me lately,” you pouted.

“i’m so sorry babe but can it wait? i promise you’ll have my full attention when i’m done.”

“no.”

“no?”

“no chris. i’ve ran out of patience so you’re gonna play your stupid game with your dick in my throat. don’t make a sound so no one catches on ok?”

“i- ” he hesitated for a moment, stunned, before deciding he liked the risk, “yes ma’am.”

he stood up allowing you to pull his pants down to his ankles and as he sat back down he made sure his lower half was out of frame before unmuting and opening the camera, “i’m back guys.”

as they started another round, you wrapped your fingers around his dick causing him to suck in his breath, and very very slowly you started to pump him, hands sliding up and down. he let a faint moan slip out and quickly closed his mouth shut. this was going to be hard.

you brought your face closer and licked a stripe going up his dick, your tongue flat against it. “ooohhh my god,” he groaned trying his best to disguise this as frustration from the game but truth is, he was losing his mind over the sight of you on your knees about to suck him off in front of thousands of viewers.

you repeated the same motion, tongue gliding up but this time once you reached the top you took him whole in your mouth, the tip briefly nudging your throat, coming back up you swirl your tongue in circles on his tip.

“oh fuck,” he almost rolls his eyes and head back, trying to control his breathing but he’s running out of breath, twitching and breathing heavier everytime his tip touched the back of your throat. you started getting sloppier with it and you could tell he was close.

“chris bro fucking focus that guy was right in front of you! you could’ve easily killed him!” matt yells at chris after losing again. chris can barely keep his grip on the controller- let alone play properly.

“ughhh i c-can’t with this stupid game, i need a drink brb.” he uses this as an excuse to turn off the mic and camera again.

the moment he did, he slumped far back into his chair, his head and eyes rolled backwards as he let out a sigh mixed with a moan. he bucked his hips upwards and tangled his hand into your hair.

“fuckfuckfuck please don’t stop,” he begs as you continue doing what you’re doing, enjoying the heavenly sounds coming out of his mouth until he finally releases his load into your mouth, whining and whimpering at how good it feels. you swallow whole and stick your tongue out to show him.

“you’re fucking insane. i love you.” he cups your face with both of his hands and leans down to give you the most passionate kiss wasting no time to deepen it with his tongue in your mouth as you sit yourself on his lap, running your hands through his hair. you pull back to catch your breath and you’re loving how fucked he looks right now.

“i love you too,” you giggle, “now get a win with your brothers already so we can finish this in your bed, you owe me.”

“anything for you ma.” he gives a quick kiss before you get up and go back to your original place on his bed, thinking about riding him next time he games with his friends with the camera off. this is gonna be fun.

[absdoll]

hi bee!!! requesting anything to do with gym!abby fjshfjsjsn ily

nonnie u get me <3 ilysm hope u enjoy

also sorry not sorry this is so long ??? i’m just painfully horny & i daydream about shower sex with sweaty gym!abby oops spoiler ok ok love u byeeeeeeee ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა ♡

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who walks in the door of the common area, mouth hung open and panting from her run. she had a heavy lift, it was leg day, and she finds that running afterwards helps to soothe her freshly toned quads.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who immediately notices you eyeing her up and down, a smirk forming on her face. she stands there, hands on her hips, still trying to catch her breath, sweat beading down her forehead.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who makes it a point to lock her gaze on yours, watching you as you watch her walk to the showers. she raises an eyebrow at you, and you take it as your cue to follow.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who shuts the door behind you, still not losing that stupid cocky grin. she wraps her big calloused hand over the faucet’s nozzle, turning it all the way to the left, the hottest temperature.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who is slowly peeling her form fitting muscle tee off, leaving her in her black sports bra. her thick thumbs slide under the band of her sweatpants as she kicks them off, along with her boxers. the air in the room getting hotter and hotter, it’s becoming harder to see through the steam. yet, you can still feel the blonde’s piercing stare on you.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who sits on the bench in front of you, you now standing between her legs. “you’re gonna wanna take all this off soon, gettin’ hot pretty quick in here.” she flirts, tugging at your shorts, and eyeing your busty tank top.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby trails your every move as you remove your cute, tight, pink shorts. her fingertips ever so lightly graze up your thigh, barely making contact with your skin. “now this.” she breathes, indicating you to get rid of your shirt, “just take it all off.”

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who is shamelessly staring at your naked body, still not touching you. the slick between where you’re craving her, so desperately, starts to fall down your leg, landing on abby’s bare thigh. her attention darts down to your sweet drip, looking back up at you with the hungriest eyes you’ve ever seen.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby presses a kiss to your stomach before standing up and shoving you back into the shower. hot, scorching water assaulting your skin. “ow!” you hiss.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who frowns at you, mockingly, walking closer to you until your back is firmly pressed against the cold tiled wall. resting her forehead on yours, she hikes your leg up to wrap around her waist. “deep breath.” she whispers in your ear.

abby’s rough fingers slide up your folds, purposely avoiding your pulsing bundle of nerves. she brings her hand to your lips, running her thumb across your bottom pout. within a split second, her steady grasp is firm on your jaw, “open up.” to please her, you lay your tongue out flat, doe eyed as she prepares her spit to drip onto your pink muscle.

“good girl, now swallow.” her hand now back down at your heated center, other arm resting on the wall above your head. without warning, her thick fingers plunge into you, causing you to gasp and tighten around her. she doesn’t move an inch. making you squirm and whine as you become more and more desperate.

“p-please!” you manage to cry out, which of course, makes abby smirk. “please what baby? what do you need?” she coos as you buck your hips, praying for some friction. “please fuck m-“ before you could even finish begging, abby thrusts her fingers into your squelching cunt as fast she can. pulling almost all the way out and then forcefully shoving back in, making you yelp as she curls inside of you. your soft small hands wrap around her hard biceps, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“what do you need pretty? tell me. keep telling me. you need me to keep fucking this sweet pussy?” you moan at her dirty words draped in her soft tone. “y-yes! ‘mmm so wet f-f ughghh fory-ouu! fuhh- oh mgod f-fuck me!” your pleads make abby’s thrusts faster and harder, as if that were possible, you clench around her relentless movements, nearing your peak.

your white gush beginning to drip onto abby’s palm, she rubs circles on your puffed up clit, your nails digging moons into her shoulders. “mm ‘m gonna c-cum mm!” as your milky cream coats abby’s fingers, she drops to her knees, attaching her mouth to your throbbing nub. keeping her pace inside of you, her lips blowing cool air and circling her tongue to catch all your juices.

abby laps up every last drop before licking one last stripe up your pussy, causing you to collapse on her chest.

“let’s get you cleaned up.” she breathes, adjusting the water to a colder setting.

a/n : if u hate this don’t tell me <3 i’m definitely gonna reread this in a few days & think it’s bad ／(˃ᆺ˂)＼ but whatvr ghdbdjsj

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

!"are we still friends?" kiss w/ inumaki!

prompt// heartbeat getting faster with every passing second, their hands on your waist, one coming up to your jaw, whispering your name softly, before just going for it. coming absolutely undone as your hand reaches to tug on their hair (prompt from @jasminesfury)

pairing// toge inumaki x gn!reader

word count// 1.8k

contents// jujutsu high is a college, inumaki communicates through sticky notes, inumaki uses his cursed technique to get what he wants, ooc inumaki ?

notes// these kissing prompts r too good not to use sorry not sorry! also yes him using his cursed technique was inspired by that one anon... also any information i say about a character's likes? or like favorite food, i get from jjk fandom wiki dont come for me if its not right ok baiiii <3

You and Inumaki are best friends— or were. Right now, he’s not quite sure where the two of you stand considering how you’ve been acting towards him lately. He and, quite frankly, anyone with eyes could see how uninterested you were acting toward him. You avoided his touch, kept conversations short, avoided eye contact, hell, you tried to avoid him all together—you were ignoring him. It wasn’t like you were doing it on purpose, though! …Okay, you definitely were, but you also definitely had a good reason to. The whole reason this started was because of last week.

You and Inumaki are best friends; you’d obviously take any chance you could to hang out with him, and you thought that was the only reason why—because he’s your best friend—but that day you quickly learned that was not the case. You and Inumaki sat under a tree in a random park. When the weather was nice and your schedules aligned, the two of you would often have picnics together. On these picnics, you two had this unspoken agreement of bringing each other food; he’d bring you what you liked or what he thought you’d like, and you’d do the same for him. You watch him intently as he places all the food he got for you near you, and you smile when he’s finished and is staring at you patiently, waiting for you to do the same.

You ignore his gaze and what he wants, instead tilting your head at him and asking, “What’s your favorite food?”

Inumaki’s face drops, and a pout replaces his previous faint smile as he pulls out a sticky note pad and scribbles, “Are you joking?”

You commit to the bit. “No, I’m serious! What’s your favorite food?”

You watch him fervently rip that note off to write on another one, “Wait, you seriously don’t know?”

The way he’s staring at you makes you relent. “Just humor me for a second Inumaki?” you plead with a soft smile, reassuring him that it’ll be worth it.

He stares at you curiously before nodding and writing, “Tuna mayo onigiri.”

You hum with a nod. “Right, thought so,” you say. “Guess what I have!”

Inumaki’s eyes light up as he excitedly taps his finger against the words he just wrote. His reaction doesn’t take you by surprise; you’ve seen him react like this plenty of times before. It’s what you love about him—how excited and happy he gets about things and isn’t afraid to show it—but something is different. The sun is shining on his face perfectly; it gleams off his eyes, and the way the wind slowly blows past and the trees and flowers behind him sway softly with his hair has you completely mesmerized. So mesmerized, in fact, that Inumaki had to practically shove the notepad in your face for you to even realize you were staring.

You shake your head as if shaking yourself out of your trance, silently acknowledging to yourself that it was odd, but you digress. “Sorry! But yes, I do have that for you!”

He drops the notepad and holds out his hand expectingly, and you giggle as you place the onigiri in his hand. He bows his head slightly at you to say thank you before he digs in, and you smile warmly at him.

“I’ve been trying to get it for you the past few picnics, but they were always out,” you say, frowning. “But today I went early, and they actually had some!”

He acknowledges you with a glance, and your heart skips a beat just from the brief moment that your eyes meet. You try to ignore it, though. You try to ignore how you can’t keep your eyes off him, the butterflies in your stomach, and how warm you feel. Maybe you’re getting sick? Yeah, that must be it. You don’t know how long you got distracted by simply admiring him, but by the time you came back to reality, he was done with his food and writing something on his sticky notes.

He holds up the notepad, asking, “Are you okay?”

You scoff slightly. “Of course I’m okay.”

He frowns at you before scribbling, “You haven’t touched any of your food.”

You look down at the food before returning your gaze to him and awkwardly smiling. “Ah yeah, just not all that hungry, Inumaki...”

You watch him study your face quickly before writing, "Are you sick?” He doesn't give you time to reply before placing the back of his hand on your forehead, and if you weren't already flustered before, you most definitely are now. You're too shocked by his actions to say anything, but it doesn’t matter when he's already scribbling a new sentence. “You feel warm.”

“I'm sure it's nothing, Inumaki,” you try to reassure.

He hands you a sticky note that says, “We should get you back to your dorm and stop for medicine on the way,” before beginning to pack up the left-over food.

You roll your eyes and place your hand over his to stop him, and the way he looks up at you has your brain going blank, so much so that he has to shoot you a questionable look in order for you to realize what you were doing.

You quickly remove your hand from his and clear your throat. “It’s fine, I promise. I probably just have to sleep it off, okay?”

Inumaki doesn't bother writing anything down and instead just stares at you blankly.

“If I'm still ‘sick’ by tomorrow, we can go get medicine, okay?”

He nods, ultimately accepting that answer, but he wishes he didn't because tomorrow never came. You didn't die, obviously, but you might as well have. You started ignoring him the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, and... you get the point.

Inumaki has no idea what he did; he tried to ‘talk’ to you the best he could. He’d leave you sticky notes, and you would hardly acknowledge them or him. Did he do something wrong? He knows most people found him intimidating at first because of his cursed technique and were hesitant around him, but you never were, so why are you acting like it now? Maybe he came off too strongly; maybe you got suffocated being his only friend—well, not his only friend, but his closest friend; maybe you just had enough. Inumaki told himself he was just going to let whatever happens happen, but he couldn’t. So he said he'd find you after class and corner you if he really had to; you’re already ignoring him; what's the worst that could happen after that? But he couldn’t wait till after class tomorrow; he couldn't sleep; he just laid in bed anxiously, which is why he now finds himself standing at your door. He doesn’t think twice about knocking; he wants—no, he needs—to know why you're ignoring him.

You're surprised to see him there, and his twisted-up face makes your heart drop. You're not sure if he's worried, angry, or both.

“Inumaki, hey.” You’re afraid to look at him for too long, fearful that he’ll look back and figure out your feelings for him, so you leave the door open and start walking away. “Come in.”

He does so, shutting the door behind him. You’re a few feet away from him, so he tries to close the distance between you two, only for you to take the same number of steps back. Inumaki frowns and pulls out his sticky notes.

“Are we still friends?”

No, because you’d rather be more—if it isn't obvious by now, the entire reason you’ve been ignoring him is because you've finally realized how deeply in love with him you are.

You avoid his gaze and zero in on your floor instead, nervously laughing. “Of course, Inumaki, why wouldn't we be?”

You hear him scribble something down before the sticky pad shows up in your field of vision. “You’ve been ignoring me.”

You push his hand out of your vision. "No, I haven't.”

You hear more scribbling before one of his hands grabs your chin and lifts your head up to face him. Your eyes fluttered at the action, and you hope to god he didn't notice. He shakes the notepad in his other hand to draw your attention to it. “Yes, you have.”

You can't lie to him when it's like he's staring straight into your soul. “Okay, fine, maybe.”

Though you wish you did when his face drops and he slowly lets go of your jaw to write, “Why?”

You take a step back, and he takes one forward. “It doesn’t matter.”

He frowns and shakes his notepad slightly as if to emphasize his point, “Yes, it does.”

“It doesn't because I'm gonna stop ignoring you, okay?”

“But why were you ignoring me?” he scribbles frantically.

You sigh. “Just drop it, Inumaki, please?”

He shakes his head.

“Inumaki, just forget about it, and we can go back to normal, okay?”

He narrows his eyes at you and writes, “Just tell me! I won't get mad; I just want to know why.”

“Inumaki, seriously drop it,” you say as you turn to walk away, but you don't get far before you hear a clatter of Inumaki’s things hitting the floor, and he grabs your wrist, pulling you into him. He has your wrist to his chest, and your other hand is instinctively pressing against him, while his other hand is on your waist. You grow flustered by how you two are body-to-body, with no space to be found between the two of you, and you look at him wide-eyed, both of your breathing becoming heavier with each passing second. You're about to push yourself off of him or tell him to let go of you, but any thought of doing something vanishes the minute you see him start to open his mouth.

“Tell me,” he says softly yet firmly.

You can't even attempt to fight against his command as the words "I like you" pour out of your mouth against your will.

The minute the words leave your mouth, you go wide-eyed in shock from your confession, and from how he used his technique on you, he’s equally as wide-eyed. You try to yank your wrist free from his hold, but he has an iron grip on you no matter how hard you struggle.

You begin to murmur nervously, your voice trembling with embarrassment, "Inumaki-"

But your sentence is quickly cut short when he leans in. He hesitates for a moment before just going for it and kissing you. You don't kiss back at first in shock, but once you grasp what's going on, you quickly melt into the kiss, practically turning into liquid with the way your legs try to give out on you. You quickly tangle your free hand in his hair; he releases his grip on your wrist and places that hand on your waist as well, while you cradle his face with your newly freed hand. You two stand there kissing and holding each other for what seems like forever before he finally pulls away, both of you nearly panting.

“So, uh, does this mean we’re not friends or-“

© LITTLEXBIMBO