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punkshort · 4 months

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Night Shift

Thank you anon for this request!

Pairing: Joel Miller x nurse!reader

Summary: It was a relatively quiet night in the emergency room until a handsome contractor gets admitted and adds some excitement to your life.

Warnings: language, descriptions of wounds/injuries/blood (typical hospital junk), needles, drugs (the medical kind), fluff, flirting, rom-com vibes, soft!joel, just a little smut (18+ MDNI)

WC: 7.3K

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

A/N: I'm fully aware some things I'm about to describe is probably incorrect (medically) but let's suspend that disbelief for a fun, fluffy story, shall we?

"Dr. Fisher wants you in room 504, but if you're too busy, I would be more than willing to go," Lily said, leaning over the counter with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"I haven't had anything to do other than charts for the past two hours, how on earth could I be too busy?" you asked, standing up and draping your stethoscope around your neck. Then you froze, realizing Lily never tries to take a patient off your hands. "Wait... why are you offering?"

She grinned and flopped down in the swivel chair next to you, crossing her legs. "The guy is smokin' hot," she whispered with a wink. "I just got a glimpse when I brought Fisher the computer cart, but..." she exhaled loudly and fanned her face. "Even with all the blood, you can tell he's a fox."

"Blood?!" you exclaimed, jogging around the nurse's desk, "why didn't you tell me?"

"He's stable, it's not-" Lily began, but you were already hustling down the hall. When you skidded to a stop outside room 504, you were relieved there wasn't a flurry of staff running in and out of the room, indicating whatever was waiting for you wasn't life threatening.

As you entered through the open door, you rapped two knuckles on the wood to announce your presence. Dr. Fisher, standing at the patient's bedside and blocking your view, glanced over his shoulder and nodded while you washed your hands. You heard him talking to a man with a deeper southern drawl than you were used to, and by the sound of it, he was in pain. You plucked two gloves from the box on the wall and snapped the latex on, turning around with a practiced smile right as Dr. Fisher introduced you by name.

Lily was right. Your eyes landed on a painfully good looking, dark haired man sitting up in the bed with one leg draped over the side, as if he was getting ready to bolt. You tried to not let your gaze linger, but the way his thighs stretched out his worn, bloody jeans and his shoulders filled out his ripped flannel held your attention longer than you expected. He first glanced over at you right when you noticed the laceration on his forearm and you went into autopilot.

You began to pull various instruments from a cabinet without instruction, already anticipating what the doctor would need before he began to rattle off requests, which you mentally jotted down and nodded in acknowledgement when he was finished.

"I'm gonna give you a local anesthetic and then clean and stitch this up. Are you allergic to anything, Mr. Miller?" Dr. Fisher asked.

"No," he said, his eyes still stuck on you as you worked. "Call me Joel," he added, his eyes flicking up to the doctor once he realized he was staring. Tommy smirked from the corner of the room and tucked his chin to his chest.

"Only thing he's allergic to is askin' for help," Tommy joked. You startled and glanced over your shoulder. Somehow you had missed the second man in the room when you first walked in. Joel scowled in his direction.

"Ignore my brother," Joel muttered with a roll of his eyes.

"Can you prep him and give him 20MLs of the local? I'll be right back, I have another patient waiting to get discharged," Dr. Fisher said to Joel, who nodded and lifted his leg onto the bed, resigning himself to a long night.

Your gaze drifted over his clothes, ruined by all the blood that had gushed from his arm. "This looks pretty nasty. What happened tonight, Joel?" you asked, using your typical distraction technique while you worked unwrapping instruments and lying them out on a tray. When he didn't answer right away, you met his gaze and smiled, assuming he was squeamish and doing to do your best to reassure him.

He blinked and cleared his throat.

"Sorry. Um, got hurt at work."

You frowned, your eyes roaming over his face now that you were closer and hoping he didn't notice the way you stared a moment too long at his soft looking lips. "What do you do that you're working so late?"

"I'm a contractor," he said, mesmerized by the way you effortlessly moved around, probably just going through the motions but to him, it looked so impressive. The monitor next to his bed beeped faster and he glared up at it, angry at the heart monitor for betraying him.

"Lots of things need to be built at midnight?" you teased, making him chuckle.

"I'm behind on a project and my daughter had a sleepover tonight so I figured I'd do a little extra work," he explained, wincing when he moved his injured arm.

You nodded, latching on to the new piece of information. You loved it when patients had kids. It was a great way to keep them talking and calm. But right as you were about to ask her name, the second man chimed in.

"Yeah, 'cause otherwise he'd be home alone," he said, making the both of you stop and stare at him. His eyes bounced back and forth between you both. "'Cause he's single," he added after a beat, making both you and Joel blush.

"Jesus, Tommy," Joel muttered under his breath, and you forced out a polite laugh before switching gears.

"Alright, let's see," you said, gently lifting his arm and peeling back the sleeve of his flannel. You made a face and Joel tensed.

"What is it?"

"I wish I had better news," you sighed, locking eyes with him. "I'm gonna have to cut the sleeve off this shirt," you said solemnly.

His face broke out into a huge smile, one that reached his beautiful brown eyes and creased his tanned skin, and you giggled before reaching for the scissors.

"It's alright, darlin'," he said, still smiling as you began to cut through the fabric, "ain't got no fashion sense, anyway."

"'Cause he's single," Tommy said again from across the room. Joel swiveled his head and mouthed something angrily in his direction but you just grinned and stayed focused, pulling the sleeve away and making sure not to brush up against his wound.

"Okay, Joel, how are you around needles?" you asked, turning your back to him and blocking his view while you prepped a syringe with local anesthetic. "Do I need to call someone in here to catch you if you faint?"

He scoffed. "Hell no, I'll be -" you turned around with the needle in your hand and he gulped, "-fine."

You eyed him carefully. "Are you sure?"

He nodded and looked up at the ceiling, so you decided to just make it as fast as possible. Cleaning the skin with some alcohol, you slid the needle into his arm near the laceration and injected the medicine. After, you pressed a piece of cotton against the injection site and hid the needle behind you on the tray.

"All done, you did great," you said, and he looked at you in surprise.

"That's it? Hardly felt a thing."

You smiled and shrugged. "I've been doing this a while," you said. You always loved when patients commented on how gentle you were. It made you feel proud and good at your rather thankless job.

"Yeah? How long?" he asked, watching as you pulled out another vial of medicine.

"Almost five years," you told him, filling another syringe and wiping an alcohol pad on his inner elbow.

"What's this?" he asked.

"It's for the pain," you said, "it's mild but you might feel a little out of it for a couple hours. It will help you relax so the doctor can stitch you up."

He nodded and you quickly slipped the needle in and out, just like before.

"Okay, all done with needles, I promise," you told him, disposing of them both in a red sharps container bolted to the wall by the sink.

"Whoa," Joel said softly after a minute, and you looked up at him then smiled when you saw that familiar, spaced out look in his eyes.

"Feeling it?" you asked, and he slowly nodded.

"Reckon I am."

"That's good. Just try to relax, the doctor will be back soon," you said, turning your attention to the computer cart. You were typing in your notes and scanning the vials of medicine to log into Joel's chart when Tommy's phone rang.

"It's Maria, probably wonderin' what the hell's goin' on," Tommy told Joel as he stood up and headed for the door. "I'll be right back," he said right before you heard him answer the phone and walk out into the hallway for some privacy.

Joel's head rolled to the side and he gazed over at you, smiling like a fool at the way your eyebrows pinched together as you focused on whatever you were typing.

"You're real good at this," he mumbled. You glanced at him, taking a break from the computer, and smiled.

"Thank you."

"How long you been doin' this?"

You stifled your laughter and answered the question again. "Almost five years."

He nodded, completely unaware. His eyes looked glazed over and he gave you a lazy smile. "You're real pretty."

Even though you knew it was the drugs talking, your heart still skipped a beat and you felt your cheeks heat up.

"You must be feeling better, huh?" you joked, wrapping a blood pressure sleeve around his arm. He lightly took your wrist in his hand, making you pause and catch his eye. He looked so earnest and sincere that you almost believed him when he said, "it ain't the drugs. I mean it. Can't keep my eyes off you, darlin'."

Your mouth suddenly felt dry as the two of you silently assessed the other. You searched his face but all you could find was a raw vulnerability while he waited for you to say something. And you really wanted to be honest, but you knew it was unprofessional and you had no idea what was even allowed but you had to assume your job would be at risk if you said what you really wanted to say.

Fortunately, you didn't have to say anything at all because Dr. Fisher chose that moment to return, breezing into the room with his white coat fluttering behind him.

"How're you feeling, Joel?" he asked from the sink as he washed his hands. You stepped back and focused on the computer screen, still feeling the heat of Joel's gaze on your face as you typed.

"Much better," he said, slowly dragging his eyes away from you. Tommy reentered the room, stuffing his phone back in his pocket and dodging Dr. Fisher as he turned around to face Joel.

"That's good. Let's get you patched up and back home, how's that sound?" he said, and you abandoned the computer to stand at his side, your eyes cast down as you awaited the doctor's instructions.

Dr. Fisher worked quickly and had Joel's laceration closed up in under thirty minutes, the whole time checking in with him to make sure he didn't feel anything. You caught Joel staring at you more than once during the procedure and you had to bite back a grin, but each time he noticed and he smiled that same dazzling smile that reached his eyes.

Once the stitches were done, Joel - but mostly Tommy - listened to Dr. Fisher's instructions on how to keep it dry and clean and to follow up with his own practitioner the next business day to schedule an appointment. Then he left, bidding the brothers a good night after he explained you would wrap up the wound and process his discharge papers.

You were very gentle as you wrapped his arm, quietly asking if it was too tight or if anything hurt. He would shake his head and continue to just gaze adoringly at you while you worked, completely unbothered by his brother just a few feet away witnessing his utter captivation.

"Okay, Joel. Let's get you out of here," you sighed, turning back to the computer cart.

"Already?" he asked, and you had to hold back your laugh at the bewildered look on his face.

"It's a slow night, we were able to get you in and out much quicker than normal," you explained, hitting the print button on the computer screen.

"Well, but..." he trailed off, looking back and forth between you and Tommy as he struggled to find the right thing to say. "I'm single!" he practically shouted when you gave him a pen to sign his papers. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and Tommy laughed from his chair in the corner of the room.

"I know, your brother mentioned it a couple times," you replied as your face grew hot once again. "Um, can you just sign here, and-"

"Are you single?" he asked, cutting you off. You looked up from the papers to find his beautiful brown eyes all wide and hopeful, completely ignoring the clipboard in front of him.

"Yes," you finally answered, shyly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

"Great!" he exclaimed, throwing his good arm up in the air with a huge grin. Tommy cleared his throat and stood up.

"I think what he's tryin' to do is ask for your number," he said. Joel nodded, not even sparing a glance in his brother's direction.

"Yeah, sorry," Joel said sheepishly, then he rubbed his face like he could make the brain fog dissipate. "Can I get your number? I'd love to take you out sometime."

Your heart was pounding in your chest now from excitement. You bit your lip and glanced over your shoulder at the open door before turning back to Joel.

"I don't know, I might get in trouble..." you began, and he quickly sat up in bed.

"I won't tell anyone," Joel said, and his voice was so serious that you couldn't help but laugh. Tommy grinned and pulled out his wallet.

"How 'bout this. What if I left Joel's business card, in case you ever needed a contractor?" Tommy offered, holding out the card between two fingers. You gingerly accepted and briefly glanced down at it. "That's his work number but this one is his cell," Tommy continued, pointing to each number respectively, "you're better off gettin' ahold of him on that one. Y'know, for any projects you might need done."

Joel gave Tommy the most grateful look. "I love you, Tommy."

"Alright, that's enough. I oughta get you back home," Tommy said with a crooked grin. You laughed and pocketed Joel's card, standing by in case he needed any assistance getting up. But before Joel and Tommy exited the room, Joel turned to you and reached out for your hand. You hesitated for a moment before stretching out your arm and allowing his thick fingers to wrap themselves around your hand.

"Thank you for saving my life," he told you, his tone deathly serious. You fought back a smile and instead gave him a firm nod.

"You're very welcome, Joel."

His business card stayed folded up in your scrubs pocket for a week, your fingers occasionally brushing up against it like a talisman as you worked.

You never told Lily about that night but you did try to sneakily look into the legality of potentially dating a former patient, but you got too nervous someone would see over your shoulder and didn't get very far.

One day, a fellow nurse who had been working at the hospital for nearly fifteen years made a comment about a patient saying something suggestive to a male doctor and she thought the doctor in question didn't handle it properly.

"What do you mean?"

"He laughed and said something along the lines of I'm too old for you," she had scoffed. "He should have shut it down right away. If the wrong person heard it, he could get into serious trouble."

That was all you needed to hear to put you off from the idea.

That evening, you took Joel's business card out of your pocket and threw it in the trash, then went to take a shower. But afterwards, when you had poured yourself a glass of wine to celebrate the start of three days in a row off from work, you found yourself hovering over the garbage and staring at the folded up piece of paper, sitting right on top of a napkin.

With a sigh, you plucked it out of the garbage and stuck it to your fridge, then forced yourself to leave the room.

There was nothing wrong with keeping the card if you weren't going to call. Right?

It pained you to go so close to the hospital on one of your well deserved days off, but you couldn't resist the chocolate croissants sold at a café around the corner. They were baked fresh daily and always served warm and after a grueling four days in a row at work, you felt you deserved a treat. So that was how you found yourself waiting at the counter for your usual order, surrounded by various professionals hurrying to grab their coffees before chaining themselves to a desk for the remainder of the day. It was busy, but the barista who usually took care of you made sure to prioritize your order, shooting you a quick wink before she slid your croissant and coffee across the counter. You mouthed thank you and turned to leave, bobbing and weaving through the crowd of people waiting for their drinks.

When you stepped outside, out of habit you glanced towards the hospital, then froze. You blinked a few times, your coffee halfway to your lips as you stared at the familiar looking man pacing back and forth on the sidewalk with his head angled toward the ground. You began to walk in his direction, squinting against the sun and wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you, but it really was him.

"Joel?"

He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at you, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Is everything okay? Did something happen?" you asked, your eyes drifting around to see if he was with anybody.

"Huh?" he asked, then immediately shook his head, "yes, I mean... no, everythin's fine." He nervously jammed his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight. "I, uh, came to see you, actually," he said, glancing down at your clothes, noticing you weren't in your scrubs. "Are you workin'?"

You looked down at your jeans before meeting his gaze again. "No, I have the day off, I was just getting coffee," you jutted your thumb over your shoulder, back towards the café, and you realized how bizarre the conversation was so far. "Why are you here to see me?"

He gave you a nervous smile and looked away, watching as an ambulance veered noisily into the parking lot. "I came to apologize. 'Bout the other week. Tommy told me what I said and I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Wasn't my intention, I guess it was all the meds." He finally dragged his eyes back to you and watched as something flickered across your face.

"Oh," you managed to squeak out. Even though you assumed as much, it still stung to hear he didn't mean what he said. "It's fine. It didn't make me uncomfortable. It comes with the territory," you told him with a soft laugh, hoping to lighten the mood. He nodded and looked behind you, trying to think of something else to say but when the silence became too much, you took a step back.

"I should go, but it was nice to see you. I'm glad the arm-"

"Wait - uh," he scratched his beard and took a deep breath. "If I didn't make you uncomfortable, why didn't you call?"

You blinked rapidly and thought about it for a moment before frowning.

"I thought you said it was the drugs talking?" you countered, avoiding his question with one of your own.

"I lied."

"You lied?" you repeated, raising your eyebrows. He nodded.

"More like I panicked," he added, then raked his fingers through his hair with a dry laugh. "Shit, I'm sorry. I'm terrible at this, ain't I?"

You giggled and his face brightened at the sound.

"A little, but it's okay. It's cute," you told him, feeling your cheeks warm at your own admission. He grinned.

"Alright, then why didn't you call?" he asked again.

"I panicked," you replied, then after a pause, the both of you burst out laughing at exactly the same time.

"Goddamn, reckon we don't stand a chance, do we?" Joel said, tilting his head to the side, those beautiful brown eyes sparkling playfully.

"Well, I don't know about that. Why don't we find out?"

He immediately pulled out his phone.

"It's the least we could do. Y'know. For research."

"Research, huh?" but you couldn't keep the smile from tugging at your lips.

"Yeah. Can two panicky individuals who can't seem to properly flirt their way out of a paper bag make it work?"

"Sounds like a tagline for a terrible book," you teased while simultaneously snatching his phone out of his hand and typing your number into a new text. "How could I resist?"

"I promise this is where the cheesiness ends," he chuckled, pocketing his phone.

"Oh, come on. Where's the fun in that?"

Joel thought about it for a moment, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"Careful what you wish for, little lady, or else we'll be havin' a picnic in the park and watchin' the sunset for our first date."

You laughed heartily at that. "Pulling out all the cheesy stops?"

"Absolutely," Joel winked, making your heart flutter.

"Alright then. Do your worst," you said, a stupid grin still plastered across your face as you took a step back the way you came.

"I'm plannin' it all out already," he said, tapping the side of his head. You giggled and gave him a little wave goodbye before turning around and heading towards home.

Joel didn't waste any time.

He had texted you within an hour with just a link and nothing else. You clicked it and immediately grinned when a website to a paint and sip place in downtown Austin opened up.

You: starting off strong - Painting with a Twist?

Joel: Get it? A twist? Because they serve alcohol there.

You laughed out loud alone in your living room. You thought the meds made him funny but you were delighted to discover he was still just as funny all on his own.

You: I got it, thanks. Very cheesy :)

Joel: So when can I take you? I want to see you paint the next greatest masterpiece.

You: I'm off the next two days and then I work the following four

Joel: You feel up for it tomorrow night? Or is that too soon?

You: tomorrow is great!

Joel: Looking forward to it, little lady.

To keep up with the cheesy theme, Joel picked you up the next evening with a singular red rose, which he had hidden behind his back so he could reveal it to you with a flourish, immediately making you laugh. He offered his arm as he led you down the driveway to his truck while commenting something about the weather but you weren't entirely certain because you couldn't stop staring at his hair, which was slicked back a bit since the last time you saw him and the longer you stared, you began to think he might have trimmed his beard, as well. You bit back your smile at the endearing effort he was putting into your date while trying to ignore the nagging voice in the back of your head that still wondered if this was going to get you in trouble at work.

When you arrived at the painting studio, you quickly realized the two of you were the youngest ones there, and not only that but Joel was the only man there. You stifled your laughter as you grabbed a couple drinks and picked your seats. Once behind the safety of your easels, you cupped your hand over your mouth and giggled into your palm. Joel chuckled and ducked down so nobody would overhear him.

"Am I allowed to be here?"

You began to laugh even harder, drawing the attention from some of the older women. Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes and you shook your head.

"I don't know!" you wheezed when you finally got ahold of yourself. You took a deep breath and wiped your eye. "You couldn't have planned this any better." He laughed and rubbed his palm over his mouth when he began to get looks.

The painting that evening was a bouquet of white hydrangeas in a wide vase. Simple enough, or so you both thought. It became quickly apparent that Joel didn't have a creative bone in his body, and while you thought you weren't much better, when you glanced over at his and noticed his vase and flowers were beginning to take on a decidedly more phallic shape, you completely lost it.

He grinned when you had to drop your paintbrush so you could clutch your stomach while you doubled over, doing your best to keep as quiet as possible, but you were failing miserably. A lady nearby cleared her throat to convey her irritation so you slid down from your stool and told Joel you would be right back, then disappeared into the bathroom to collect yourself. By the time you emerged, the teacher who was leading the class had jumped in to try and help Joel create more distinguishable flowers, but it appeared to be a lost cause.

Once the class was over, the teacher went around to take pictures of everyone holding up their paintings with the people they came with that evening. When she got to you, Joel wrapped his arm around your shoulders and tugged you close. Right before she took the picture, you leaned up and planted a kiss on his cheek, causing his face to flush and his smile to reach his eyes.

When he dropped you off at home, he walked you to the door.

"So I was thinkin' for our second date we can either do bowling or trivia night," he said with a little smile. You cocked your head to the side as you thought about it.

"Both are excellent options. You can tell a lot about somebody by the way they handle winning and losing," you mused. He grinned and leaned his shoulder against your doorframe as he gazed down at you, waiting for you to decide. "Let's do bowling," you finally said. He gave a firm nod and straightened up.

"Bowling it is."

"After tomorrow, I work four nights in a row," you reminded him.

He shrugged. "So let's do it tomorrow."

"Really?" you asked, unable to keep the excitement from your voice. "Are you sure? What about your daughter?"

"I'm sure Tommy can watch her. And even if he can't, she's old enough now to stay on her own for a few hours."

You nodded and glanced down at your hands, clutching your painting at your side.

"What does she think about you dating?" you asked nervously, chewing on the inside of your cheek and glancing back up at him.

"She's all for it. She's fourteen now, practically kicks me outta the house every chance she gets," he said with a chuckle.

You nodded again and tried to sound casual when you asked, "are you seeing anybody else, or..." You trailed off as you felt your face warm up, feeling slightly vulnerable, but he quickly put your mind at ease. He stepped forward and pinched your chin between his fingers, making you look up at him through your eyelashes.

"No," he said softly, "are you?"

You shook your head slightly, not wanting to lose his touch just yet. "No."

He smiled. "Good."

He tilted your face up a bit more then swooped down to press a gentle kiss against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine even though it was rather innocent.

"I'll see you tomorrow, little lady," he murmured before dropping his hand from your chin and taking a step back. You bit your lip and smiled.

"Can't wait."

While Joel wasn't a very good painter, he turned out to be a rather good bowler. Better than you, at least, which wasn't saying much. So after a couple beers, you flirtatiously asked him to help you with your form, to which he eagerly agreed. He walked you up to the lane and stood behind you, squaring your shoulders and planting your feet just so while the bowling ball dangled at your side with a stupid grin on your face.

"Alright, now you're gonna wanna swing this leg back," he said, tucking his chin into your shoulder and reaching down to tap the front of your thigh. You giggled as his beard tickled your skin, which just caused him to do it even more. You laughed harder and tried to squirm away but he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and pulled you back against him, nuzzling into your neck enthusiastically. You twisted your head towards him, trying to protect your neck, but it was no use, so instead you pressed your lips against his, finally stopping his assault. Both of you were well aware of the public setting, surrounded by families, so you fought the urge to deepen the kiss but you did linger a little longer than was necessary before breaking away with a sigh. He smiled down at you, his cheeks a little pink, either from the alcohol or the public display of affection.

"I like you," he said earnestly.

"I like you, too," you whispered, watching the way his eyes sparkled. Even if it was only two dates, you could tell the connection you had was strong. You had to make it your mission to figure out the policy at work before things went any further.

"Hey, Lily," you said the next day, getting the other nurse's attention.

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever dated anyone from here?" you asked as quietly as you could. She grinned and leaned against the counter.

"Oh, yeah. A few," she said mischievously before glancing around and leaning forward. "I went on a few dates with Dr. Adams last year. When I first started, I was hanging out with Richie, the pharmacist downstairs, but I swear when I found out he was married I broke it off. I felt bad about that one," she said thoughtfully, tapping her chin. "Oh! Then there was that one resident who worked here for a few months... Mike? He was tall with brown hair and had that tattoo-"

"No, I mean like, patients?" you tried again, and she pursed her lips.

"I've had a few ask me out but I never took them up on it. Why?"

"No reason," you said quickly, "but if you were interested, could you? Like, would we get fired or get our license revoked or something?"

She frowned and shook her head. "Absolutely not. Once a patient is discharged, it doesn't matter. If we worked in a doctor's office and it was a regular patient, that would probably be a different story, but we see so many people in the ER it's impossible to enforce something like that."

You breathed a huge sigh of relief and smiled. "That's great."

She grinned and raised an eyebrow. "So are you gonna spill or what?"

"Me?" you squeaked, shaking your head innocently but Lily saw right through you.

"Who are you seeing?" she pressed, smacking her gum between her teeth. You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop the heat from reaching your cheeks.

"Remember that guy last week? The fox with the arm laceration in 504?"

Lily gasped. "Shut the fuck up!"

You smirked and nodded. "We've just been on two dates, nothing serious, but before I continued to see him I wanted to make sure I wouldn't get in trouble."

"I'm so jealous!" she groaned, stomping her feet dramatically. You laughed and turned back to your computer. You began to get back to the chart in front of you but she pulled up a chair and got a little closer so nobody would overhear. "How is he in bed?"

You gave her a look. "We haven't slept together. Did you not hear me say we've only been on two dates?"

She scoffed and tossed her hair behind her shoulder. "That doesn't mean anything. If I went on two dates with a man like that, I wouldn't waste any time climbing him like a tree."

You both dissolved into a fit of giggles before the phone rang, warning you to get an exam room ready for a broken arm.

Waiting four days to see Joel again was a lot harder than you expected, but lucky for you, on your last day, Joel surprised you at work with a coffee and chocolate croissant from the café you liked.

"You remembered!" you exclaimed when you opened the bag. He shrugged sheepishly but you could tell he was pleased with your reaction.

"'Course I remembered," he said, glancing around when Lily walked into the waiting room to call back a patient. Her eyes locked on the two of you and she gave you an exaggerated wink before leading an elderly man to the back. Joel grinned and looked at you.

"Friend of yours?"

"Unfortunately," you said sarcastically, making him smile. You glanced down at your watch and made a face. "I'm so sorry, I gotta get going but this was so sweet of you," you said, motioning towards your coffee and pastry.

"I just really wanted to see you again," he admitted, "it was a completely selfish move."

You giggled. "Well, thank you for the selfish coffee and treat."

"You're welcome. Still on for tomorrow night?" he asked, and you nodded.

"Picnic and stargazing. You're really checking things off that cheesy date list," you said with a laugh.

"You asked for it, don't you forget now," he replied before leaning in and giving you a quick kiss.

After he left, you made your way back to the nurse's station so you could deposit your goodies and pull up the next chart.

"Third date tomorrow?" Lily asked, rounding the desk. You nodded.

"Yep," you answered distractedly, reading the chart of a young boy with a minor head injury from a fall.

"You know what typically happens on the third date?"

You felt your skin heat up at the insinuation. "I'm going to regret telling you about him, aren't I?"

"Sure are. That was so close to being me, I'll never get over it."

You laughed and shook your head, leaving her question unanswered as you made your way back to the waiting room.

As it turned out, a picnic and stargazing was incredibly romantic. Joel packed a simple meal: some cold pasta in olive oil, a light salad and some fruit. He had found a spot off a highway that overlooked downtown Austin, which was by far the cheesiest part of the date.

"Did you used to take girls here back in high school or something?" you teased as you sat on the hood of his truck, leaning against the windshield so you could see the stars.

"Me? Never. I was very respectable in high school. Never got into trouble, never skipped class and definitely never took the captain of the cheerleading squad up here after prom," he said with a grin. You giggled and shoved his shoulder playfully.

"You're trouble."

"Yeah, but you like it," he said, turning his head to the side so he could look at you. You tried to give him a stern look but you weren't selling it in the slightest.

"Okay, maybe I do," you admitted.

He smiled and laced his fingers together with yours, dragging his thumb over your knuckles for a minute, staring at your entwined hands while you continued to gaze upwards, the stars twinkling in the nearly clear, black sky.

"Can I tell you somethin' without you thinkin' I'm crazy?"

You rolled your head to look at him, your first instinct to tease him but his soft tone made you stop. "Sure."

"I keep waitin' to wake up or the other shoe to drop or whatever," he said, his gaze studying your face. "You just seem too good to be true," he added with a little grin.

"That's funny, I could say the same about you," you told him, but he shook his head.

"Nah, I mean it. How don't you already got a boyfriend?"

You sighed and looked back up at the sky. "I don't know. It's always been a little tough with my work schedule. I work so many overnights and it's hard for guys to understand that and work around it. Eventually things just... die off because I never get a chance to spend any real time with anyone."

He frowned and inched a little closer. "Their loss," he said. You turned to smile at him.

"You're not like that, though."

He shrugged. "I get it. I'm no stranger to havin' a busy schedule. I'm always haulin' Sarah 'round town to soccer games or friends' houses or after school activities. Don't bother me none."

You squeezed his hand affectionately before impulsively leaning over and pressing your lips against his. You could feel his surprise but he quickly reacted and brought a hand up to cup your face. He licked at the seam of your lips and you smiled before opening your mouth a fraction, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

The whole drive back to your place had you thinking about Lily's comment from the day before, and the closer and closer you got to home, the more nervous you felt.

When he walked you up to your door and kissed you goodnight, you reached up to hold the back of his neck, keeping him close. He slipped his tongue into your mouth and you let out a small moan. He grabbed your hip and began kissing you harder, pushing you up against your door and sliding his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, stroking your skin there. You tipped your head back, breaking the kiss, both of you panting for air.

"Do you want to come inside?" you asked nervously. His gaze darkened and he licked his lips, but then you saw a tortured look flicker across his face.

"I can't," he said, sounding almost like it pained him to utter the words. "I can't leave Sarah alone overnight," he explained, taking a step back and rubbing his palms over his face. He dropped them to the side and you quickly blinked the disappointment from your eyes.

"It's okay, I understand," you told him, then reached out to squeeze his hand reassuringly.

"I promise, I really wanna come inside," he told you.

"I know," you said, "maybe next time."

He chewed the inside of his cheek and nodded. "Yeah, next time."

But it wouldn't be the next time. Or the time after that. Understandably so, Joel was waiting for a night where Sarah was at a sleepover to coincide with one of your free nights, explaining that he felt uncomfortable letting her know he wouldn't be coming home.

"Does she know about us?" you asked him one night.

"'Course she does. But it's just... awkward. At her age, she can read between the lines, y'know?"

"I get it," you had told him, trying to imagine what it would be like for you if at fourteen, your dad had essentially announced he wouldn't be home that night because he was going to get laid.

It made sense, but it didn't stop both of you from practically swallowing each other whole every chance you got, all your pent up sexual tension bubbling just under the surface with every glance and touch.

And finally, nearly two months into seeing each other, the stars aligned. Sarah was going on a school field trip to The Alamo, which coincidentally was scheduled on one of your rare weekends off.

Joel had every intention of taking you out to dinner and a movie, but when you opened the door and locked eyes, suddenly take out and a shitty movie on TV sounded much better.

You practically dragged him to your bedroom while shedding your clothes as quickly as you could, desperation rolling off both of you in waves as you fell into bed.

"Beautiful girl," Joel mumbled against your throat, sweat coating your skin as your writhed underneath him, his thick length slowly dragging in and out, making sure you felt every inch of him. "Wanted this for so long," he continued, then groaned when you clenched around him. "Fuck, you're so wet, baby," he whispered when your slick began to spread over his thighs.

"Only for you," you managed to say, too focused on how your body thrummed with anticipation as you got closer and closer to your release.

"Yeah, that's right," he growled, nipping at your earlobe. "All for me."

When you came, you whimpered his name into his shoulder, clutching onto him as the heat of your orgasm spread through every vein, reaching every inch of you. He followed shortly behind with a guttural moan muffled by his mouth pressing feverishly against yours, then you felt his muscles relax under your fingertips and his body sag. You pulled him down and he nuzzled against your throat as he fought for air, still nestled deep between your legs.

Neither of you felt much like leaving the bed, so you didn't. You ordered Chinese food takeout and watched some action movie you didn't really care for but it didn't matter because it primarily served as background noise while you pretended to fight over shrimp lo mein and shared an egg roll, the cartons spread out over your nightstands and your plates balancing in your hands.

You fell asleep before the movie ended but when you woke the next morning, tucked safely into Joel's side, the cartons of food were gone and the TV was off. You pressed a little kiss against his chest, silently thanking him for taking care of everything while you slept, but the movement made him stir. He sleepily opened his eyes, then a lazy smile spread across his face when he saw you already looking up at him.

"Mornin', little lady," he said, voice all rough and gravelly. You felt a pull in your lower stomach at the sound.

"Morning," you mumbled, pressing another kiss in the same spot.

Joel sighed and wrapped both arms around you, tugging you even closer and kissing the top of your head.

"I want you to meet Sarah."

He felt your muscles tense under his hands and then you slowly tipped your chin up to look him in the eye.

"Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Only if you wanna," he said quickly, but you shook your head and grinned.

"Y-yeah, I would love to, of course," you told him.

He planted a kiss on your lips, both your mouths curving into smiles.

"Good. Then it's settled. My two best girls are gonna meet," he said, sliding out from under the sheets to stand. You bit your lip, adoring the way he referred to you as one of his girls. "She's gonna love you. How 'bout a baseball game or the fair?" he offered, slipping his boxers on.

"Both sound great," you said dreamily, watching him saunter out of your bedroom. And as you ate breakfast across your kitchen table, sharing little smiles over eggs and toast, you couldn't help but feel hopeful and excited for what your future held together.

#joel miller tlou #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel x reader #the last of us au #pedro pascal character #joel miller one shot

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rafeandonlyrafe · 9 months

Text

just a good brother

words: 2.7k

warnings: 18+ only! smut, stepbro!rafe, stepcest, dubcon/noncon, drugging, female receiving oral, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, somnophilia, manipulation? i guess, reader is sick with like a cold or somethin

“what's wrong kid?” rafe asks, running a hand over your hair, pushing it out of your face as you keep your cheek pressed against the arm of the couch.

“sick.” you mutter, keeping your arms wrapped around your stomach, as if that could somehow make you feel better.

rafe frowns. he hates seeing you feeling down, and it's his responsibility as your step brother to make sure you are taken care of.

“what can i do for you?” rafe asks, his voice unbelievably soft. he kneels down in front of the couch so he can look you in the eye, scanning over your face, looking tired with a sheen of sweat over your skin. “did you take some medicine?”

“i did, and i still feel like crap.” you groan.

“want me to make you some soup?” rafe questions. he doesn't really know what to do to make you feel better, so he's resulting to movie stereotypes. he figures it's better than doing nothing. “or some cuddles?”

“ill take some cuddles.” you say. you really do think rafes arms wrapped around you would make you feel better. it's not weird after all, he's your step brother.

rafe nods, and you pick yourself up briefly to scooch to make room for rafe on the couch. he joins you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders, letting you move to rest your cheek against his chest.

“i got ya, sis.” rafe says, rubbing his hand over your back in long comforting strokes.

“thanks rafey.” you sigh, eyes closing. your headache has subsided a little from the medicine, causing you to relax enough to fall into a light sleep.

you are awoken by sarah bounding out the door, shouting something about john b.

“shh, it's okay.” rafe says when you whine, but you need to stretch your tired muscles anyways, shaking out the one arm that got trapped and fell asleep during your short nap.

“ugh, i just feel gross.” you groan, burying your face in your hands.

“would a bath help maybe?” rafe questions.

“actually yeah.” you hum, thinking about being submerged in the warm water. you think you even have some epsom salt you could add to draw out some of the toxins.

“let me help you then.” rafe says. he stands up, only to swoop down and bring you into his arms, walking with ease as he heads towards the stairs. you would complain that you can walk yourself, but you're honestly not sure if you can, do you wrap your arms around rafes shoulders and let him take you all the way to his bathroom. you don't mention that your own bathroom has a jacuzzi tub as well.

“are you good to sit right here?” rafe asks as he places you on the counter.

“yeah.” you nod, leaning your head back against the mirror, watching as rafe turns the hot water on to fill up the bath before coming back over to you

“want me to help you get undressed?” rafe questions.

“wouldn't that be weird?” you raise an eyebrow. “you seeing me naked?”

“not at all. im your step brother, and im just helping you because you're sick.” rafe says, and you're not sure if it's the sickness, or the foggy mind from the medicine that makes you nod your head yes, accepting his help.

rafe assists you in standing, his hands firm in yours as you slide off the sink counter, the tub filling with water drowning out the sound of rustling clothes as rafe takes your shirt, dragging it over your head. he skips over your bra and moves to your shorts next, kneeling as he slides them down your legs. he also carefully takes your socks off before tugging at your underwear. you cringe when they stick to the slickness between your thighs, but rafe doesn't mention anything.

he stands slowly, his eyes taking in between your thighs, wondering what you, his precious little step sister, would look like with your legs spread wide open, cunt on display for him.

rafe stands in front of you while he reaches behind your back, unclipping your bra. the fever that has taken over your body is replaced with shivers as your breasts are exposed to the cool air, your nipples instantly hardening.

rafe looks down with a smirk, and you want to cover yourself, hide your shame away, but before you can move, he turns his head and looks at the bath.

“it's full.” he hums, moving to shut the water off before turning to you, beckoning you forward with his hand. you take hold, letting him bear part of your weight as you step in, the water being just on the verge of too hot.

you let out a low moan when you step the other foot in, already feeling better.

“go ahead, baby. all the way in.” rafe says, using a nickname for you that you haven't heard before. you slide down into the bath, glad that it can easily submerge your whole body as rafe drags a stool next to the lip of the tub, taking a seat next to you.

“gotta keep an eye on you just in case.” rafe says, again reaching to stroke your hair back.

“you're such a good big brother.” you tell him honestly. you feel so lucky that your mom married ward, that she brought you into this family, to rafe.

“always gonna take care of you.” rafe says, as a promise.

you lean forward, not sure what your intentions are as you pucker your lips, pressing them against his hand that rests on his knee.

“come here.” rafe coos, knowing you need this, need to show him some kind of affection as thanks, and how much you like physical touch. rafe cups your jaw, tilting your face up as he brings his own head down, letting you press kisses over his cheeks.

rafe goes to connect your lips, but you gasp and pull away.

“it's okay for siblings to kiss each other.” rafe says with a frown.

“but i don't want to get you sick.” you complain, even though you desperately want to smash your lips against his. you don't dwell too long on the thought or what it could mean.

rafe sighs, but nods, letting go of your face and letting you lean back against the tub. your eyes close as the water relaxes you.

rafe sits there quietly, but the silence isn't uncomfortable.

“baby, are you good here for a minute? gonna get you some medicine.”

“yeah.” you sit up slightly, eyes opening as you watch rafe leave the bathroom. the water in the tub has grown lukewarm at this point, so when rafe returns with a plastic cup filled with some sort of medicine, you tell him you want to get out.

“here, drink this then i will help you dry off.” rafe says when he has you wrapped in the fluffiest towel.

you accept the cup, swirling the purple liquid before shrugging and drinking it down in one gulp, surprised by the sugary sweet taste.

“good girl.” rafe says, making a surprising flood of wetness rush to your core.

he leads you out of the attached bathroom into his bedroom, guiding you to sit down on the bed. he takes a second towel and carefully dries your hair, squeezing strands free of water before running his fingers through, making sure your hair remains untangled.

rafe then moves to your arms, not letting you do any work yourself as he guides the towel up and down your arms until they're completely dry.

“why don't you lay back?” rafe questions, and you nod, wanting to lay down anyways as the new medicine makes your limbs feel sluggish. you guess that there was some kind of sleep aid in the medicine as well, but it could also be the effects of the sickness hitting you again.

you let rafe take your towel away before you lay back on the bed, on top of his comforter as he pats your stomach until it's dry. your eyes flutter closed when he moves upwards, able to feel his hands through the fabric of the towel as he dries your chest, seeming to pay special attention to your nipples.

“rafe, i-” you begin, wanting to apologize for how hard your nipples have pebbled but he just shakes his head.

“you don't need to explain, sis.” rafe simply says. “it's natural.”

“okay.” you whisper. you're really not sure, and rafe is your big brother after all, so he has no reason to lie to you. rafe moves lower yet again, bypassing your stomach and privates as he wipes dry your feet, lower legs, and then your thighs.

“spread your legs for me.” rafe commands. he says it so casually you almost do it before you realize that your sloppy cunt would be revealed to him.

you sit up, moving your elbows so you can look at rafe, staring expectantly at you.

“rafe, i don't know-”

“we are siblings.” he cuts you off again. “it's okay.”

you lay back, closing your eyes, not wanting to see rafes reaction when you spread your legs, revealing your wetness. you miss rafes smirk as he covers his hand with the towel, making sure to move very gently as he works it between your legs, stroking the fabric over your cunt.

you let out a low moan when your clit is bumped, causing a whole new flood of wetness.

“i can't seem to get this spot dry…” rafe says, tossing the towel onto the bed, needing to feel your bare skin. he strokes over your folds, not doing anything more than touching around your cunt until he can't take it anymore, letting his finger swipe through your wetness.

“rafe, stop.” you pout, eyes now clenched tightly closed.

“it's okay.” rafe just hums in response, too transfixed on your pretty pussy to take your plea into account, especially when you spread your legs wider, giving him more access.

rafe smiles as his finger pushes further against your skin, now rubbing through your wetness, spreading it around your cunt. he moves his singular digit up to your clit, moving in circles around it teasingly until he presses his fingertip down directly over your clit, making your back arch as you let out a moan.

“how do you feel now?” rafe questions as his finger continues to massage your clit.

you assess your body, and you're not sure if it's from the medicine or from rafes attention on your pussy, but he only feeling you can focus on is coming from his fingertip, instead of your hurting stomach.

“really good.” you whisper. you should be concerned about what you're doing right now, but you're so glad to be alleviated from feeling sick that you can't bring yourself to care about rafe stroking over your clit.

“want me to keep making you feel good?” rafe questions.

you nod before you can hesitate. rafe climbs onto the bed, slotting himself between your thighs. you blink your eyes open when his hands rub over your inner thighs.

“it's okay.” rafe assures you again. “just a brother taking care of his sick sister.”

“okay.” you whisper. “it's okay.”

rafe smiles before diving in, burying his mouth in your cunt. he possessively licks over your pussy, like he's been waiting since your mom married his dad two years ago to get a taste of you.

he sucks your clit into his mouth, bringing his fingers to your entrance. he pushes a singular digit in, glad when you stay relaxed, allowing him to pump his finger into you. he's sure it's a combination of the exhaustion of your sickness as well as the medicine he gave you.

rafe switches between flicking his tongue over your clit and sucking on it while his finger works you open. he can quickly add a second due to your pliability and wetness.

“rafe, i feel something-” you gasp, his fingers moving faster.

“you're gonna cum for me?” he questions. he knows you're not the most innocent, he's seen you making out quite intensely with your ex boyfriend, but he also knows that you're still a virgin. you claim you want to wait until marriage.

“i-i don't know. i think so.” you whine, hips undulating.

“it's okay, relax for me baby and cum.” rafe says, his tongue taking in your taste again, licking long stripes through your cunt, making sure to flick over your clit with every movement.

you let out a mix between a whine and a moan as his tongue and fingers becomes too much, pulling the orgasm out of you as you cum, your high pushing through your body as your legs tighten around rafes head.

rafe gently kisses your cunt through the orgasm until your thighs loosen and your eyes fall closed.

“im tired.” you whisper, not sure what rafe is doing when you feel him get off the bed, and rustle around. you don't open your eyes until he's back on the bed between your legs.

“rafe!” you shout when you realize he is kneeling between your legs, now completely naked, his cock hard and jutting away from his body, one hand at the base, slightly stroking as he looks down on your naked body.

“it's okay.” he says again, hoping that repeating it will make you believe it.

“what are you doing?” you question.

“you said you wanted to feel good, im just helping you sis.” rafe says, now stroking faster, taking up more of his shaft.

“no, no, no.” you mumble quickly. “you're my brother!”

“im your step brother.” rafe snips quickly.

“still! im supposed to be waiting until marriage! for my husband!” despite your protests, you can't bring your body to move, completely slackened against the bed.

“it doesn't count if its family.” rafe says. “besides, ive been taking such good care of you. let me keep taking care of you, and you can take care of me too.”.

“i guess…” you mumble, eyes taking in his big cock. you want to know what it feels like inside of you, and rafe grants your wish when he drapes his body over yours, lining his cock up with your entrance.

“id say stay nice and relaxed for me, but the medicine is doing it's job.” rafe says, burying his head in your shoulder as he pushes inside, filling your cunt in one smooth and easy pump.

you let out a moan, wanting to wrap your legs around rafes waist to help the angle, but your legs feel like jelly.

“that's it, sis.” rafe moans, immediately snapping his hips into yours, not bothering to start softly.

rafe keeps one hand gripping your hip while the other moves to your chest, gripping your tit harshly, but you're too numb to complain about the pain.

“more.” you whisper into rafes ear.

“dirty slut.” rafe says back. “who knew my step sis would be such a whore for her brothers cock?”

you let out a whine of complaints, but rafe begins to move faster, push deeper into you. you wish you could keep your eyes open, to look at rafe like this, but tiredness is taking over, even as he pumps into you.

“can't- can't help it.” rafe says, his voice sounding strained as he continues thrusting. “gonna cum inside of you.”

this wakes you up slightly, squirming underneath him. “you can't, rafe! im not on birth control and you're my brother!”

“say it again.” rafe grunts.

“you're my brother!” you shout again, but instead of rafe pulling out, he floods your cunt with his cum, spurting long ropes inside of you.

you squirm again, but rafe just moans when your pussy constricts around him, having the opposite effect as you milk his cock.

“im sorry sis.” rafe says. you try to push him off, but thats when you realize that it's more than just tiredness taking over your body. you're completely limp, unable to move or lift your hand.

“what did you do?” you ask, words slurring.

“ill take care of you. ill take care of everything.” rafe promises, grinding his hips when his cock begins to reharden inside of you.

you try to open your mouth, but your vision goes completely black, your jaw slackening. you pass out with the feeling of rafe beginning to move inside of you again, his cock pushing the cum further into your cervix.

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yawnderu · 9 months

Note

your loser somno konig has given me so much brainroott

i have a proposition however: what if reader knew?

or completely different route, what if the reader drugged him often to do the same, with the intent of having his baby, a permanent piece of him 😇

ANON. ANON WHEN I CATCH YOU. WHEN I CATCH YOU ANON.

cw: somnophilia, drugging, noncon, femdom, breeding.

It had started out innocently— a small crush on your colonel, his tough image like a monument of what a man should be, slowly building up to an obsession that had you crushing sleeping pills, mixing them into a nice tea made specifically for your lovely colonel. It's wrong— could end your career and could even get you killed, but the chances were worth it.

You waited patiently, only slipping out of bed when you heard his snores. Your body hovered above his with the same quietness you use in the enemy backlines, one hand carefully trying to move his body just to make sure he was fully asleep. His breathing pattern didn't change at all, neither did his loud snores, so you quickly got into action knowing he'd be out for at least a few hours.

You've seen his bulge before— how can you not? It's always poking out of his pants even when he's soft, yet this is the first time you see the entire thing once you lower his pants, hooking his boxers underneath his balls.

''Jesus Christ.'' You mutter under your breath, eyes slightly ajar when you notice how massive he is even when soft. You begin to stroke his soft dick with your hand, feeling him up and taking your time to experiment with him, doing what feels right until his cock starts to respond to your touch, getting harder in your hand. You take your time to admire him once he's fully hard— all 8 inches of pure thickness, the bulging veins running down his entire length only making the heat in your stomach pool up.

Your warm tongue runs up his entire shaft, his snores reassuring you that he's not going to wake up no matter what you do. You latch onto the tip, the taste of salty precum invading your tongue, running circles on his tip before letting go with a loud ''pop'', only getting up to take off your pants, straddling him and holding the tip of his hard cock over your sopping cunt. You don't take his mask off— the least you can do is respect his privacy even when you're doing something so sinful and forbidden.

You lower yourself down on his cock slowly, taking your time to enjoy every single inch stretching open your insides. It takes a hot minute before your cunt is able to take all of him, a hand over your mouth to muffle your whines. It almost hurts, but the ache is overcome by the pure need of feeling more of him.

You slowly bounce on his cock, getting more and more used to having all of him all the way inside before you're freely bouncing on his cock, your free hand going down to massage his heavy balls while you impale yourself down on him. It feels too good to stop despite how wrong it is, mind filled of images of a possible future together if you manage to get pregnant tonight— if not, you can always keep trying.

Your eyes drift down to his masked face, a small smile on your lips when you think about what he may look like underneath the balaclava and sniper hood; how pretty your babies will be. It's only motivation to keep fucking yourself down on his cock, feeling it throb inside you while you only bounce down on him faster, feeling your orgasm build up. It doesn't take long before you're cumming around his cock, getting even tighter around him and milking him dry, his unconscious body responding to your stimulation by shooting ropes inside you.

You wait a few minutes before hesitantly moving away from him, getting on your knees in bed and licking him dry, getting rid of the evidence of your sinful act, taking one last look at his softening cock before you pull his pants back on, fully unaware that König would be returning the treatment the next night— and the one after that, up until you come to him with a positive pregnancy test, hopefully seeking for his help.

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 1 month

Text

TOUGH- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Dilf! Cowboy! Peter Parker x Innocent! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Summary: Your school girl crush on your employer, Mr. Parker grows as you spend more time with him helping out around his farm, and soon he wants you to meet his friends for a night out at the local dive bar (to simply show you off :) )

Warnings: SMUT, consentual bondage, daddy kink, mentions of sexual activities, sexual implications, flirting, use of drugs, drinks and guns, slight dumbification kink, praise kink, breeding kink, peter just grabbing ur body/ feeling you up, teasing, swearing, age gap ofc (reader mid 20s, peter 40s) peter really just takes pride and care of his girl, making sure she is safe and satsified :)

" life's gonna do what it does, sure as the good lord's up above, i'm cut like a diamond shinin' in the rough.. tough"- tough, lana del rey & quavo

part two to save a horse, ride a cowboy - but no need to read to understand this fic <3

It wasn't the caw of the rooster that woke you this morning.

It was the feeling of a large, solid bicep that curled, caging your body in against another. His skin was warm to the touch, faint red farmers tan poking out at you as you snuggled deeper into the crisp,cool white linen sheets.

You felt Peters bare chest against your backside, the steady rise and fall of his chest soothing as you fought back sleep. The hands on his beside clock ticked, the minutes seeming to spin by faster then your eyes could follow as they fluttered open and shut.

Mornings like these were the best mornings you could've asked for.

They were rare, but they were precious.

The odd night you had managed to sneak out to visit Peter, which ended up with him taking care of you, from the beginning of the night to the ends of the morning.

It wasn't the cool morning breeze that slithered through the opened window that made you shiver, but the thought of Peter.

He had been teaching you how to ride, not horses- but him.

“Fuck darlin’ youre taking me so good. I know, I know-” he would coo as you whimpered, his cock stretching you out as he guided your hips to sink down onto him- to take him all.

“You’re doing such a good job honey, such a good job. You’re daddy's lil cowgirl aren't you? Learning how to ride me like a good girl.”

It made you squirm. Especially when after a while, he’d grow tired of your slower, gentler movements, gripping your hips and pounding up into you so hard you nearly fell off the couch if he hadn't been holding you.

You felt something poking out at your ass between the sheets, and you wiggled your body slightly, getting a low murmur from the sleepy older man beside you.

It was still early, and you knew your father wouldn't be awake any time soon, especially if he had been drinking. But you had cattle to tend to, and pigs to feed.

“Mr Parker…” you whispered, his arm still caging you in tightly.

“Mmm” he mumbled, eyes opening lazily, blinking slowly against the rising sun. “You’re not trying to escape from me, are ya?” he teased, pulling you in even closer, his morning wood flush against your ass, prodding at your lower back.

“I really don't want to leave sir I swear-”

“I’m joking sweet girl, I know. You have some calving happening don't you?”

You nodded.

I’ve been staying by them for most of the time when I’m not here. I like to think sometimes they like the company.” you smiled softly as he planted a kiss on the top of your head, then another.

“They most definitely enjoy it sweetheart. Especially yours. You're just such a sweet girl.” he hummed, large, calloused hands sliding under the sheets, down, down past your arms, slipping to give your ass a little squeeze before slipping up your little tank top to cup your breasts.

“Am I?” you asked, squirming in his grasp as his fingers toyed with you- a cat with its dinner, circling your hardened nipples.

“The sweetest. I just wanna keep you here baby, all the time, in this little bed so I can fill you up.”

You giggled, mind slipping from your duties for the day. His presence alone had your brain turning foggy, it was a miracle you could even think for yourself before he woke up.

But now? You were a goner.

“And why can’t you?”

He sighed, pinching the hardened bud between a thumb and finger. “Responsibilities honey. We both got them, and you're an independent girl.”

“I want you to take care of me though.” you pouted, giving him puppy dog eyes that drove him wild.

His tousled hair was soft between your fingers, his stubble harsher across his cheekbones. “Soon I will be sweetheart. I’ll make you my sweet lil cowgirl.”

You laughed as he kissed you all over, smothering you deeper into the pillows, his musky cologne engulfing you, lingering long after he had made his way to the bathroom, the sink handles cranking.

Cold water spewed out, captured in the same tender hands that had just cradled you as he rinsed his face. You called out for him, already missing his warmth, leaving him to stop dead in his tracks. You were fanned out on the bed- his bed, your body unfolding from under the sheets like an origami swan.

You lounged, eyes shut, your little shirt sliding further and further up your torso, tempting him. Before he could help himself, he grabbed his film camera that permanently was stationed on his old wooden dresser, the one his mother’s mother had before her, and so on.

Soon it would be covered in photos of you. His secret collection, a guilty pleasure of his favourite enigma that struck him down to his bones. You were a diamond in the rough in his life. You had consumed him, night and day. The way your voice sounded so sweet calling his name drove him to insanity.

The gentleness, the tenderness..

He needed to capture it.

“Mr. Parke- hey!” you protested as the shutter flickered a flash darting out between your heavy eyelids.

“You better not do anything with that, I look a mess.”

He snorted. “Was that a threat honey?” he asked, coy.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe hm?”

You shrieked as he set the camera down, taking a long stride before he was on top of you, caging you in as his hands pinned your wrists beside your head.

“You’re so beautiful my sweet�� my beautiful, beautiful girl.” he murmured, eliciting a sigh as his forehead brushed yours, scruff grazing your neck as he inched closer to breath in the sweet scent of your perfume- always lingering on your skin.

You wiggled under him, attempting to free yourself from his grasp, and failing. It turned him on more then he cared to admit, to see you under him, almost helpless.

“Mr. Parker…”

“You know to call me Peter, sweetheart. You know what that name does to me.” He kissed your neck, once, twice and a third time.

“I should go… as much as I don’t want to…” you sighed, eyes darting over towards the ticking clock, hands seeming to move quicker and quicker as the minutes passed.

Your father would be awake soon, if not now, and that frightened you. If he woke up and found your bed empty…

“Come with me to the bar tonight. Please doll, I wanna show you off to all my friends, just to show them you’re mine.” he pleaded, seeming to make time stop completely, as you fell under his spell.

The way he was looking at you, yearning. Begging. You couldn't refuse. You didn't want to refuse.

“What time?” you asked softly, as he dipped his head back down to meet yours, a smile forming on his lips.

"Ten. I’ll pick you up at the house.”

You bit your lip. “You- you can’t. Father won’t-”

He nodded slowly, remembering how difficult your father could be.He would never allow it. Especially not with your employer. Though he was much… much more than that.

“I’ll sneak out again. Father will never find out, I’ve done it so many times, I can run out past the gate through the field…”

“Wait. Sweetheart, you need to be careful. I know you’ve done it so many times, and I hate making you do that, and putting you in danger-”

“You’re not making me do anything Mr. P- Peter.” you whispered as his lips brushed against yours. They tasted minty, the two cushions softly caressing yours, gente enough to feel as if they were a whisper.

“You don't know what's out there. So promise me you’ll be careful, I’ll be there at ten on the dot. Leave when you have to, no earlier and please, please bring a sweater darlin, it’s gonna be oh so chilly…” he trailed off and you smiled brightly with anticipation, cheeks hurting from the repetitive movement.

His forehead met yours again, a silent promise of reassurance.

It was sweet he cared for you this deeply. It made butterflies churn in your stomach like twisters, made your toes curl in excitement so tightly you feared they'd all stick together.

A drug you could never get enough of. A hope you were chasing, that this could work past the summer months that you meant more to him then you realised.

He was introducing you to his friends, that was a start. A huge start.

“I will. Promise.”

-----------------------------------------------------

Mr. Parker was many things. One of those things was timely.

And truthful.

Not a minute past ten and his pickup was parked on the side of the road, nothing but red brake lights under the stars as guidance as you descended the old wooden fence on the other side of the field.

You had been pacing in anticipation all day, hardly able to stomach anything but crackers and cherries from the trees in the back. Braiding your hair just to unbraid it, to braid it again.

Peter had let you off for the day, he never really worked you- but of course your father didn't know that. So you were alone with your thoughts as you did your daily chores around the farm, tending to the sheep and cattle as the dogs nipped at your heels before darting after one another.

You didn't know where your father was when you got home. Asleep, you assumed. Or in town, to flirt with the general store owner. It didn't matter to you, what mattered was he was gone until he wasn't.

Dinner was quiet, not that you minded, just the sound of forks and knives scrapping fine china as the lanterns flickered in the dining room.

You were too focused on the night ahead, and what to expect. Or if you should be expecting anything.

No more than a quiet goodnight was said as you each tucked bodies behind wooden doors, and you wasted no time tugging on a little white lace dress, doing your hair the way you knew Peter liked the most.

You pumped the squeeze ball of your perfume, the little tassels brushing your skin and making you shiver as the scent hit your neck. The cool breeze slithered through your opened window, the curtains lashing out like branches in a storm that threatened to topple over the house.

Peter was right, it was cold. Colder than it should be for a summer night.

Normally it was stifling hot, the night time only allowing the temperature to drop just slightly. It had plummeted tonight.

You shrugged on a little cardigan over your shoulders, before slipping out the window, crawling down the large oak tree that lingered beside your house, threatening to topple over.

Now you found yourself here, whipping open the passenger door, laughing as the wind storm picked up, seeming to nearly topple you off balance.

The tires revved against the loose dirt road, gravel flying with the dust in the distance as you sped past your house. You felt like a teenager again, the way you were sneaking out, spending your night driving in cars with boys. Though they never treated you well- until Peter came along.

But he was a man you reminded yourself as you leaned your head back against the headrest, his large, veiny hand sliding over to rest on your thigh, thumb tracing little circles.

“You made it out okay?” he asked reassuringly, fawning over you as his eyes flickered from the road over to your body. Checking for scratches and gashes.

“Easy peasy.”

The radio hummed softly as his headlights flickered, and you listened to the sound of the turning signal as you gazed over at him. He was so beautiful in this light, it made your heart get stuck in your throat.

His soft locks blowing in the wind, the faded yellow beams in front of him illuminating his chiselled jaw, teeth tugging down on his bottom lip in concentration.

He was so soft in the night light, so gentle. Yet he remained possessive in such a comforting way, his hand tightening on your thigh as he turned a corner, or hit a bump.

“Are you warm enough darlin?” he asked, drinking in your little dress, and the shawl that did next to nothing to hide your shivers. You looked down, noticing your nipples had hardened on their own accord through the flimsy lace, from the chill wind or Peter's hands feeling you up- you couldn't tell.

“You’re gonna need a better jacket honey. You're a silly girl for thinking that would cover ya.”

You dipped your head and felt your cheeks heat as his teasing. You liked when he teased you. “Yes Mr. Parker.” you nodded, slipping your hand down to intertwine with his at your upper thigh.

He pulled a joint from his pocket, using his knees to steer the wheel as you endlessly grabbed the lighter from the dash and lit it for him. Smoke puffed out, trailing out the cracked opened window as he exhaled, like so many nights before.

It was routine at this point, lighting his smokes. He always shared with you, whether it was letting you have a hit, or by puffing the smoke into your mouth as he kissed you, simply intoxicating you.

“I’m nervous.” you stated bluntly as the truck rolled closer into the outskirts of town, where the local bar was. “Honey, you have no reason to be nervous, promise. They already love you.”

“They know me?” you asked.

“ ‘Course they do. Some of em might even try to snag you from me. You’re such a pretty lil thing they’ll want you all to themselves.”

You giggled at his claims, redeeming them false. Your nerves seem to grow as you pull into the parking lot, hands twisting at his fingers as if they were fidget toys. It was busy, though you didn't expect anything else for a Friday night.

The night was still young, and the party showed no sign of stopping anytime soon, people trickling in and out of the swinging wooden doors. Neon lights illuminated outside were bright, candy coloured-inticing you inside.

Before you could unlatch your seatbelt, Peter slid his hand to roughly hold your chin, huffing smoke between your lips as he kissed you harshly, teeth clashing against yours.

You barely had time to catch a breath as he gripped you tightly, holding you captive with his lips. They were swollen by the time he was done with you.

“Don't even think about reaching for that door handle sweets.” he whispered, winking as he slipped outside, cheeks tinged with pink as he took one last puff, before tossing the burnt end and crushed it with his boot.

The door was opened on your side, his hand holding yours as he guided you down from the high truck bed, steading you as you lept and swayed against him.

“My darlin’…” he murmured to himself as he took you in again, the heat of his stare sending shivers down your spine. The puff of weed made your head feel fuzzy, and you felt the heat between your thighs grow warmer as he lapped you up- like a dog begging for water.

A gentle tug broke you from your pink, doe eyed trance, and you mindlessly followed him inside, pushing past the little wooden doors.

Soft lights illuminated the room in a way that still felt dark and grungy, people in cowboy boots perched up on bar stools, or bent over with a pool cue. Some old country song trickled out of the speakers perched around the room, and your nose was overwhelmed with the scent of whisky and smoke.

You followed Peter towards the back of the bar, a group full of older looking men drinking beer over a hand of cards tossed on the table. Each of their eyes darted over towards the pair of you, one of them in the front smirking in satisfaction.

“So this is the pretty lady, is it Parker?” the man in the front asked, sliding out of the booth to tower over you, just as Peter always did.

“Bucky Barnes.” he smiled, hand sticking out to firmly grasp yours. You drank in his ocean blue eyes, the little tufts of grey in his beard, scattered like salt and pepper.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Barnes.” you nodded.

“Please hun, call me Bucky. No need for that formal silliness.”

“That's what I’ve told her. She’s just too polite I guess.” Peter laughed, his hand slipping down to your lower back, guiding you into the booth, atop his lap as you were introduced to his other buddies.

They were all extremely friendly, all having mini conversations amongst themselves while they sipped on their drinks, or smoked their cigarettes. Each of their hands were warm when you shook them, firm grapes from across the cluttered table.

Your attention was soon directed back to Peter, and a waitress who had so graciously appeared. “Darlin? What did ya want to drink?”

“Just a rum and coke for me please.” you smiled.

“One bill please.” Peter said before she disappeared back off into the bustling crowd.

“I can pay for my own Mr. Parker.” you frowned, annoyed with yourself for not thinking of saying that sooner. “I’m sure you can sweetheart. But I don't really care. Let me take care of you, okay?” he murmured in your ear, hitching his knee up so you had no choice but to slide back on his denim jeans, back against him fully to keep your balance.

“But-”

”No, no buts. You just enjoy this night okay? Are you doing okay, it’s not too loud in here?” he asked softly, whispering quiet enough not even Bucky, who sat next to you could hear what he said.

“I’m good. Do your friends like me, d’ya think?” you asked timidly, wanting his approval. “Oh darlin they love you. They wouldn't shut up about meeting you, they just wanted to see how pretty and smart you were in person. My words aren't enough I suppose.” he smiled, brushing a kiss just behind your ear as the server returned, two drinks in hand.

You thanked her, taking a sip from your staw, twirling around the ice cubes in the glass as they clinked against the side. Before you knew it, you were down three drinks, laughing so hard at jokes spewed from the other end of the table your sides started to ache.

A hand tugged you up to the dance floor, Bucky twirled you around in circles before dipping you down towards the floor. A smile never left your face, the room starting to slightly spin on its own accord, and you saw Peter eyeing the pair of you across the bar like a hawk, his cool stare never leaving the back of Bucky's head.

He had offered to show you around up towards the north, a place you hadn’t visited much but wished you had. “I’ll show you around.” he smiled when you asked about it, dipping you low again.

”When?”

“Whenever you're ready, call on me.” he winked in response.

By the time you had to call it quits to save your wobbly legs, you heard Bucky snicker at Peter, slapping his chest before heading back towards the group.

Oh relax Parker I wasn't trying to steal your girl, just woo her a lil.

He didn't seem to like that one very much.

“Can- can we step outside for a sec?” you asked, stumbling towards his strong, lean arms that encased you once more- a warm hug you very much needed.

“You need some fresh air darlin? It gets so loud, I know…” he trailed off, quite literally sweeping you off your feet into his arms. You curled in against his chest, feeling the sway of each long stride across the wooden floors, the crowd parting like the red sea as he passed them by, all of them gawking.

You didn't blame them. He was beautiful.

“Shh, shh” he murmured as you started to claw at his t-shirt, twisting it in circles to keep yourself steady. “I wanna shoot bottles.” you stated as the cool air hit your skin, and you instinctively curled into his warmth.

“You wanna shoot bottles now, do ya? Do you even know how to shoot a gun?” he asked, laughing. You slid down to your feet, looking up at the night sky, the stars twinkling dimly from under the rolling clouds.

“Course I don't. But you teach me.”

You heard some guys around the corner of the building laughing with their friends, the sound of cans clinking as they fell from bullet wounds. You had never shot a gun before- not really ever needing to, but you saw some of Peter's collection tucked away in one of his older storage buildings on the property.

They were vintage, slightly rusted but still in decent working condition you assumed. Peter had never shot a gun in front of you before, but you knew that he knew how. Your father had mentioned hunting trips with him back when they were kids.

Surely he couldn’t be that rusty.

“I’d teach ya eh? How do you know that I can shoot, pretty?”

You shrugged, trotting over to where the men had been previously, their guns leaned against the building.

“I’ve seen your guns.”

“Those are old. Real old, from my granddad. Brass ‘38s.” he said. “I still trust you to show me how.” you stated, toying with the barrel of a bb gun, swinging it back and forth.

“This isn’t smart while you’re drunk.”

“Not drunk.”

“So drunk.”

You huffed, picking up the gun anyways. “That’s why you show me so we don’t do anything stupid.”

“With you I always want to be stupid.” You smiled softly, pretending to aim the gun at him, mocking the sound of bullets flying through the air.

“Now you’re being stupid darlin. Don’t aim that at anyone, that’s the first rule. Though I don’t expect you to know that right now, in your condition.”

“You should show me Mr. Parker, so I can defend myself.” your voice was high, extra girly as you toyed with the weapon, feeling flirty to high hell. He chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he slid up behind you, hands wrapped around your waist as he leaned down.

“Stay around me forever and you’ll never have to defend yourself baby. You’ll never have to do anything again.”

You giggled, cheeks warming from the alcohol rushing through your blood at his remarks. He was so silly. You thought, but you wished life could be that simple.

You wanted to wake up next to him every morning, to the feeling of him deep inside, pumping his seed into you- breeding you. You wanted to fuck like rabbits, for him to stuff you full over and over again until you were dripping.

You wanted him to kiss you all over before serving you breakfast in bed, tending to your every need while you lay in his bed, legs spread.

Jesus Christ your thoughts were dangerous when you were intoxicated.

What did they say again, drunk words were sober thoughts?

“You gotta turn off the safety first sweetheart.” Peter murmured in your ear, his warm breath tickling your ear. You heard a soft click, and he guided your arms into position, hands closing over yours.

“Now look through that little eyepiece and aim towards that can there.”

You squinted, trying your very best to focus on the only can standing up on the nearby fence. It took you a few seconds, but finally you had steadied yourself with his guidance. Your finger hovered.

“And.. shoot.” he whispered, finger tightening around yours, the gun going off with a loud bang! The can crumpled in on itself quickly, the aluminium falling from its place. You squealed with delight.

“That's my girl!” he smirked, clicking the safety back on as you drunkenly wobbled into him, wanting to take the toy away before you hurt yourself.

“Did I do good?” you asked, knowing he did most of the work- but still wanting his praise anyways. “So good darlin, you’re such a good girl, y’know that?” he asked, slowly backing you up against the cold siding, caging you in his arms.

The gun was long forgotten, tossed somewhere on the ground. The way his eyes sparkled drove you wild, a hint of mischief but still a maturity- a gentleness eying you down, soaking you in.

Your breath seemed to get caught in your chest as you tilted your head up against the wall to meet his gaze fully. He was so tall, so big… and he smelt amazing.

God, you wanted to blurt all of this out loud. You couldn't keep your composure anymore… it was next to impossible around him. You melted like ice cream on a hot summer's day whenever you were in his mere prescience.

“I want you to fuck me.” you stated plainly, his eyes widening- a coy smirk forming on his face. “Is that so?”

“Yes, Mr. Parker, I really want you to fuck me. Please.”

Well he damn near fell to his knees at your sweet tone, and your puppy dog eyes as you begged. He could never say no to his baby, but he also knew the two of you couldn't do anything out in public like that.

At least not all the things he wanted to do to you.

But it didn't mean he couldn't edge you on a little more until you squirmed for him with want.

“Was that what you were so distracted with earlier? You thinkin about stuff?”

You nodded. “I was thinking about you breeding me, and filling me all up until I’mall sticky, and so tingly I can barely feel anything. And I was thinking about you pumping into me and hurting me in such a good way.” you confessed.

If he was only slightly hard before, he was rock solid now.

Fuck.

“Sweetheart fuck-.. I- I’m so much older then you-"

"Not by that much.” you insisted, hand slipping down to rub in between his legs, cupping his bulge between your smaller fingers as he suppressed a moan.

“You’re so naughty baby. D’you think about this all the time?”

“All the time. I wish you could fuck me now.”

He clucked his tongue, shaking his head. Your nipples were so hard they strained the fabric, begging to be touched by him.

“Such a dirty mouth my lil cowgirl. You gonna let daddy fuck you hard tonight?” he breathed, hand slipping down to cup your breast. Yesss. You wanted to hiss, pleasure seeping over your body.

“Mhmm. Whenever.. Whenever you w-want.” you giggled, his hands slipping down to your thighs, hosting you up to his height- your legs wrapped around his solid middle.

He kissed your neck, teeth nipping the skin as he sucked, leaving little marks that scattered across your skin. Before he could go much further, a presence lingered from the parking lot, a man leaning against a wooden post- watching you.

He whistled sharply, causing you to whip your head in shock. “Lovebirds! If you’re gonna fuck- at least invite the rest of us!” Bucky called from the sidelines.

“You couldn’t even get it up old man!” you shouted, Peter bursting out laughing against your collarbone. Steve appeared, whistling at your remark.

“Oh she got you good Buck. Low blow cowgirl.” he laughed, clapping Bucky's back, a feline grin on your face as you walked towards the pair, adjusting your shoulder strap that had slipped down in your little rendezvous.

They definitely knew you were not wearing a bra, if they didn’t know before. Oh well, not your problem.

“If you want a ride, I’d watch your tongue sweetheart.”

You laughed, stumbling over to Peter’s truck. “We’re gonna leave that here and get it tomorrow darlin. Mr. Barnes is gonna give us a ride home.” Peter whistled at you, smacking Bucky upside the head at his remarks.

“Mkay…”

“There’s not enough seats, so the pretty lady is on Parker’s lap. Unless she wants to be on mine-“ he looked over at you, winking. “I’ll make sure to hit all the bumps.”

“You pervert.” Peter snarled- walking him again. “I’m joking, I’m joking!” Bucky laughed.

“Don’t listen to him doll, he’s being stupid. He doesn’t mean any of it.” Peter murmured to you, as he guided you from his truck down to Buckys, Steve already claiming shotgun, while Sam and Tony were in the back, leaving one spot open for you and Peter.

Great. For your sake, he hoped Bucky did hit all the bumps.

It was stuffed in the vehicle, arms touching as if you were sardines in a can. But you didn’t mind being on Peter's lap. He rolled the window down, allowing the cool air to slither into the back, cooling your skin.

The other men talked about whatever while Bucky's headlights flickered on as he slowly backed out of the parking lot- but all you could focus on was Peter. He was still hard under you, you could feel his bulge through his jeans, straining against his zipper.

Your dress fanned out, leaving nothing but your underwear to rub against the denim, which was now damp. You clenched your fists, fighting back moans as Bucky sped down the road, hitting massive potholes that nearly sent your head through the roof.

You caught a glint in his eye as he looked back at you from the rear view, knowing damn well he was doing it on purpose.

“Hold on tight.” was all he said as he continued on- and you squirmed against Peter's groin.

“You keep doing that, you’re gonna regret it.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

Peter grumbled to himself, hands tightening their grip on your thighs as Bucky hit more bumps. He clenched his teeth, hissing as he rubbed against your panties, feeling the wetness drip down your thighs.

The weed had heightened everything tremendously; he seriously thought he would cum in his pants.

That’s some shit the guys her age would do- those immature pieces of shit. The thought alone made him hold you a little tighter, savouring the smell of your perfume and shampoo.

You felt delicious on him. He wanted you on his lap constantly. He just wished no one else was in the truck.

You laughed at something Steve said, as Bucky put his turn signal on, gravel rumbling under the tires as he turned down Peter's driveway.

Oh thank god.

“Thank you so, so much for the ride Mr. Barnes. It was so lovely to meet all of you.” you smiled, waving timidly as Peter opened the door, allowing you to slip off his lap and jump down to the ground, holding his hand for balance.

Peter grimly nodded, cursing your sweetness towards Bucky, that motherfucker. Bucky winked as Peter tried to subtly hide his boner as he stood- and failed.

“No problem sweetheart, just glad you’re home safe. Don’t forget my offer okay- you come around anytime and I’ll show ya around with Steve.” he nodded, and you said the rest of your goodbyes, waving to everyone before Peter slammed the door shut.

The tires squealed as Bucky put the gas to the floor, leaving nothing but dust in his wake. “They were really nice Mr. Parker. I think they liked me.” you smiled, skipping over to the front porch steps.

“Yeah, a little too much.” he muttered under his breath, catching up to you in quick, long strides. You squealed as he picked you up with ease from behind, draping you over his shoulder and carried you up the steps, unlocking the front door.

“Put me down!” you whined, letting out a yelp as he smacked your ass.

“Shh. And stop your squirming, you’re not going anywhere sweetheart.” he huffed, kicking the door shut behind you, tossing his keys on the counter.

The lights were soft and dim as he carried you up the stairs, past the closed doors to the one left open.

His bedroom.

You continued to squirm- defying his orders and you felt that sting again, the loud smack! echoing through the room as you whimpered.

You bounced down on the bed, wide eyed as you scooted back towards the headboard, legs splayed open. Watching as his hand cupped your cheek, thumb stroking your cheek mindlessly.

“You still want me t’fuck you honey?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “Use your words baby. Tell me what you want.”

“I’d like you to fuck me Mr. Parker. Please.” you added quickly. His thumb brushed over your parted lips and you opened them quickly, allowing him access- your tongue swirling around his digit as his hand forced you to look up at him.

“You’re sure?”

You nodded quickly.

“I wanna be so gentle with you darlin. You’re so sweet and soft… I just wanna be so delicate.” he sighed softly. “Fuck….”

He didn’t say he was still a little pissed at Bucky for his aimless flirting- not that it was your fault of course. Didn’t mean he didn’t want to be possessive though. He was mature enough he knew you belonged to him- he didn’t need that reassurance.

But he had to make sure you knew.

“That's okay.” you whispered, drool trickling off his thumb as he pulled it away, smearing it across your cheek. He chuckled lowly.

“You’re so good to me baby. Do you think we could try something a bit different tonight?” he asked, and you nodded.

Anxiety and excitement quelled in your chest as he started to unbuckle his belt, and unzip his jeans. You pulled off your little scrap of fabric you called a dress, instinctively covering yourself. It was a habit you tried to break- but you couldn't help it.

“No no, baby, show me.” Peter insisted, hands removing yours to reveal yourself to him. The heat in his gaze sent shivers down your spine, leaving you firmly planted in the sheets.

“You’re so beautiful. The gods write poems about your beauty, my sweet girl.” he cooed, grabbing your wrists, holding them out in front of you, planting a kiss on your forehead.

Grabbing the belt, he started to wrap them around your wrists. “Is this okay?” he looked at your face for reassurance, finding it in your gentle eyes as you smiled.

“Will it hurt?” you asked meekly.

“No, no honey I would never hurt you. You know that right?” he sat down on the bed next to you, stroking your skin in soft, calming circles.

“I know Mr. Parker.”

You knew he was your savouir. He would never- could never harm you. You trusted him with your life.

He kissed you again, the belt jangling as it was bound around your wrists. You wiggled your fingers, though unable to move your hands- helplessly bound before him.

And you had never felt so safe.

“That too tight for ya darlin?”

You shook your head.

“No Mr. Parker.”

He smirked, fingers finding there way down to brush your inner thighs, tugging at the fabric that covered where he wanted you the most. You wiggled, moaning as he teased you, his touches soft yet electric.

“Shh baby, thats it. Daddys gonna take such good care of you. I’ve got ya.” he whispered, tugging off your thong, throwing it somewhere to the floor, watching your back arch and bow off the mattress from his quick brush of his finger along your slit.

“Awh baby she’s so wet f’me. I’ve barely even touched ya, sweet thing.” he cooed, and you whined softly as he toyed with you.

“Please-“

“Please what? Hmm? Use your big girl words.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Please fuck me, please. Please.” you begged, squirming.

“Such naughty language. Tsk tsk” he clucked his tongue, prying your legs wide open as you fought to keep your knees together.

“You want me to do what you said earlier? You want to be full?”

You nodded.

“You can’t waste any baby. No leaking, okay? Need my baby stuffed.” he smirked, lifting your legs up, draping them over his buff shoulders.

“Do you want gentle?”

You shook your head.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded.

“Whatever my sweet girl wants.” he smiled, brushing his cock through your soaked folds, tapping your clit with the head lightly. You didn’t know how much more teasing you could take.

“Mr. Park- OH!” you cried out as he slid home, his happy trail brushing your clit. He wasted no time, lifting your thighs up so half your body was off the bed, getting the deepest angle he could as his hips began to snap into yours.

You couldn’t help but cry out, words becoming mindless babbles as he pistoned into you, hitting a certain spot that had you seeing stars. “Yeah that’s it baby. Taking me so good, you’re such a good girl.” he cooed, admiring as your arms lifted, hands over your head in the restraints as you attempted to claw onto the headboard, failing miserably.

“Aww poor thing. You got nowhere to go, do you? Stuck here just taking daddy’s cock. You’re so fucking tight jesus christ…” he trailed off, lost in his head as you squeezed him tighter, nothing but the sounds of the slapping of his balls on your skin, the sounds of your strangled noises and moans.

He couldn’t get enough of them, he never wanted them to end. Your legs began to slip from their position, turning to jello and he wasted no time quickly flipping you around with ease slipping right back in.

You moaned at the new position, as he hit a different spot- slapping your ass gently. “Atta girl. Cmon baby, make yourself feel good. Or d’ya need me to do it for ya since you’re so fuzzy?”

You mumbled something unintelligible into the pillow that sounded like “Please”, and he didn’t bother trying to make sense of it as he gripped your hips harder.

“M’so closeeee…” you hissed, clenching him tighter.

“You gonna cream on my cock? Yeah? Cream on my cock baby, atta girl darlin.” he growled possessively as you came with a sharp cry, soaking his cock.

He always let you cum first. Always. He wouldn’t be a gentleman if he didn’t. You were his princess, he wanted you to feel so good you wouldn’t even be able to remember your name.

Peter showered you in praise, rubbing your back soothingly as your legs shook from your orgasm, toes curling against the sheets.

“You’re okay sweetheart. Shhh that’s it. Good girl baby.” He flipped you back over, wanting nothing more than to see your pretty face. It was one of the things that got him off the most, seeing your eyes roll back in your head, your mouth let out those pretty noises while it rounded to an o shape.

Your chest rose quickly, up and down as you managed to catch your breath, head fuzzy.

“You okay honey?” he asked gently, forehead creasing in concern as he soothed you.

He always took such good care of you. Somehow that turned you on even more.

“M’so good.” you mumbled, meeting his soft smile.

“Well good. Cause I’m not done with ya yet darlin. Spread those legs again baby.”

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vixensp1ce · 5 months

Text

aphrodisiac with sunday

fem!reader

dazed and burning up, all you can do is whimper as sunday's hot breath fans out over your ear. he hums in response.

"soon, sweet thing. be patient."

but you didn't want to be patient. you wanted him now, drug-induced haze be damned. your walls flutter involuntarily and you moan quietly, feeling each inch and vein of his cock pulse with frightening clarity inside you.

"need you," you whine. "please..."

"soon," he coos again, nuzzling a kiss behind your ear. "shh."

you quiet for a while, a short time that seems to stretch for an eternity spent whimpering and burying your face into his neck, trying desperately to get off on anything - his scent, the taste of his skin.

"good angel," he murmurs finally, setting his pen down. you squeeze around him in anticipation as sunday begins massaging the flesh of your ass. "do you want me to fuck you now? is that it?"

the sweet tone against his vulgar words has you moaning quietly. if anything, the drug had only gotten stronger. you can feel each pulse and twitch of sunday's cock inside you, nudging patiently against the opening of your womb.

"okay, angel. i'll fuck you."

he lets go of your hips and you start bouncing on his dick, clutching shakily onto his shoulders for support. "sun~day, sunday, so good, so good, please~"

but you barely have any energy left, and try as you might, you can't cum by your own movements alone.

sunday watches all this, his eyes glinting, until he leans forward and takes you into his own hands.

he raises you up slightly and pauses, looking you right in the eye as you tremble in anticipation for him.

he jerks his hips up and brings you down at the same time, ramming his cock right into your gummy spot.

you throw your head back with a cry of his name, the fabric of his suit wrinkling underneath your fingers. sunday sets a bruising pace, until you're cumming again and again on his cock, ruining the expensive material of his clothes.

#hsr x reader smut #hsr x reader #x reader smut #honkai star rail #star rail #sunday smut #sunday

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luxurychristmaspudding · 2 months

Text

Million Dollar Baby | FUTUREPROOF

prologue

summary: you're in la, and it's time to get this show on the road.

pairing: f!rockstar!reader x actor!joel

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. one minor drug reference. reader has hair and can swim.

wc: 3.3k

an: for @schnarfer, my copilot, and @itsokbbygrl and @undercoverpena. thank you for your patience while i've yapped and not written about these two <3

dividers from the glorious @saradika-graphics

series masterlist | main masterlist | follow @pudding-notifs for updates!

The sunlight is warm, the breeze is mellow, and the bedsheets smell like home.

Soft, so soft, cool against your warm limbs - every nudge of smooth linen cocooning your body against the waves of wakefulness. You stretch your legs - muscles loosening, mind empty - then your toes, and bury your face back into the pillow with a quiet grunt.

Everything feels achy today. Just fatigued - cooped up on planes, huddled in the studio, hunched over a notebook in what Jack has fondly dubbed your ‘shrimp position’. But this feels good. Spreading your legs to starfish beneath the covers, breathing in the scent of your own shampoo, before shooting your arms to the headboard and pressing your palms against it. Sinew relaxes a little more, spine crackling.

One eye winked open finds the room washed in gold, sheer curtains fluttering in the floor to ceiling windows, just obscuring the crest of the hills beyond the pool.

You close your eyes again, breathing in deeply. Your tongue tastes sour, ashy - the only blot on the morning; a reminder of last night. The whirlwind of faces and places you’d been swept through by Eimear after leaving the studio, blurred into one soundscape while you were dreaming.

You following her - a satin palm curled around your forearm, the gloss of her braids. Have you met…. Completely sober, brain ringing in your skull from ironing out kinks on the record, you’d made your excuses and escaped as quickly as possible from the glitteringly dark bar back to the house. Closed your eyes against the buzz of the Uber’s window, dragged yourself to the sofa, and shared a joint with Adie before hauling yourself to bed.

There’s a clench in your gut, a rumble. You groan, hunger creeping in, bubbling in your throat. You swing a hand away from the headboard, scrabbling about on the nightstand for your phone, squinting at the screen over the duvet.

No missed calls. No urgent texts.

But at some point in your slumber, you’d snoozed your alarm.

You drop your face into the pillow again, mouthing a fuck into the cotton. Plans of eating at the café in the next neighbourhood over eviscerated by a fuzzier head. Again.

You throw the covers off your legs, rubbing roughly at your face, and stand with a yawn. Pick up the pants and t-shirt you’d discarded on the floor last night, sling them over the chair in the corner of the room, and then move to retrieve your bikini from the balcony beyond the curtains.

A fine day out. Still warmer than you’re used to summer being, sun hot on your face even this early, but the view - the view. Spoiled by the label, high up enough to be away from the bustle, but close enough to watch the lights and the smog and the constant glimmer of dreams.

You step back into the bedroom to tug and tie the swimsuit on before swinging open the door. The landing is quiet, empty. The same as you pad down to the kitchen.

Everything is white, and where it’s not white, it’s glass and natural wood. It’s beautiful, it’s serene, and - as Eimear had said when you first arrived - very rock and roll.

The wide, clean kitchen, marble-topped island stretched all the way across the space. Perfect for hosting. The sunken living room and its floating hearth. The rugs and the throws, the cushions, the potted plants, fading smell of incense. The bifold doors thrown back so you can step straight out to the patio and then the pool - sparkling, rippling in the morning sunlight.

The doors Adie obviously hadn’t closed last night. The bottle of champagne he’d left open on the side.

You give it a sniff as you walk past, deciding it isn’t worth it as you step towards the fridge instead. You pour a glass of orange juice and poke around for something else, grabbing a tub of mango you’d picked up yesterday. Croissants from the bread bin on the counter, then your sunglasses from where they sit next to the flowers Nick had sent you.

The patio is hot underfoot, and you all but skip your way to one of the loungers set up by the edge of the pool, clutching your breakfast. You slide your sunglasses onto the bridge of your nose, settling cross-legged on the pale cushions. Orange juice cradled between your thighs, croissant and mango in front of you.

Nick Walton, Hollywood’s newly heralded genius. You’d thought he’d be wanky at first - obnoxious, loud, demanding - but the man who had introduced himself to you months ago, who had joined you in the studio over the last week, was quiet, kind. A crooked smile, an asinine sense of humour. Ready and generous with praise and votes of confidence, gentle direction offered when needed. He’d been a dream to work with, so much so that the whole band had been quick to tell him they’d love to work together again - if he wanted to. And he did.

You savour the earthy sweetness in your mouth, rip a corner off the croissant.

It was exciting. Being privy to such a project, being sent rough cuts and signing NDAs. It had been something to do on the road - a distraction from the songs you were playing every night, a challenge to fit to a brief. Something you, as a band, had never really done before. Working not just to convey a message, a feeling, but a place. A story beyond what you knew.

You lick the mango juice from your fingers, your wrist, swipe the crumbs from your lap. Finish your orange juice in great gulps, enjoying the coolness, the tartness. You wanted Nick to be confident he’d made the right choice. Confident that you respected his work, appreciated it, wanted to uplift it.

The extravagant florals that had arrived before Eimear had whisked you away last night confirmed that. The only thing left now was to get the stamp of approval from Joel Miller - co-producer, leading man.

So squeaky fucking clean you wonder whether the air around him sparkles.

You stand from the sunbed, reaching up, wiggling your fingers at the sky, before swooping low to touch your toes. Almost. You fold your sunglasses up next to your glass, leaving them to tiptoe around the edge of the pool. Moving to stand at the top of the tiled steps, up to your ankles in the water. Cool, cool, cool. The LA skyline stretched out ahead of you - concrete jungle sprawled under clear blue sky.

Joel Miller somewhere out there, getting ready to gather his thoughts on the tracks. A big deal. Critically acclaimed films, Oscars and SAG Awards, nominations up the wazoo. Something lurches in your stomach, a familiar that has tread with you since the beginning. The doubt, the worry. The almost overwhelming expectation to disappoint.

Maybe he won’t like you. Maybe he’s never liked your music. Maybe he’ll wear sunglasses the entire time and won’t speak.

Don’t be childish. You take a step deeper into the pool.

Maybe he won’t.

Maybe he’ll be everything people say he is. Unfailingly polite, sweet. Humorous, if prone to a little grump now and again. Maybe he’s heard a few songs on the radio.

You take a step deeper.

Maybe he’ll be taller than you think. You know he’s handsome. Broad, strong. Greying curls, deep, sad eyes, full mouth and scruffy beard. He’d suited the cowboy get up in the cuts of Red Sky. Not that you ever thought about that when you’d crash in your hotel room at the end of a night. Or his hands. His thick fingers, or the bulge that strained against his low slung belt -

You crouch, arms joined over your head. Feet anchored, pressure forced down as your legs extend and lift, arcing towards the water.

The dive sweeps the remnants of sleep, worries, thoughts of Joel Miller away. The water fills the conches of your ears, softening sound. You close your eyes, lost to the peace of the dark. Coolness slips past, greases joints, cradles you gently. You kick and pull until your lungs strain, pushing one foot off the floor to pop back up to the surface, wiping chlorine from your eyes, your lips.

You look back over the city, treading water, before turning to face the house. Much bigger than it needs to be - but pretty and green. There are plants everywhere - trees and flowers, grass to your right. Sweet honeysuckle on the breeze, musk of heated tarmac.

You tip your head back, and your body follows. Sound muffled again, you blink your eyes open to look up into the blue. Endless. You search for birds, letting it calm you - how small you really are. How, no matter how many people gather in crowds, there are more who simply couldn’t give less of a fuck about who you are.

It doesn’t matter if Joel Miller is one of them.

You swim a few leisurely laps before pulling yourself out and wrapping a discarded towel around your shoulders, drying off just enough to come back inside the house. You’re brewing coffee when Adie emerges - freshly showered, shirt only buttoned halfway, sunglasses on.

You smirk at him, and he flips you off, wincing as he takes a seat at the island. He rests his head in his hands.

“Morning, rockstar,” you beam, pouring the drink into mugs, and he grunts in response.

You scrub a rough hand over his buzzcut, and he grumbles out a low “Fuck off,” voice low and raspy.

You snicker, placing a steaming cup beneath his hanging head. He’s always suffered the worst with hangovers, unaided by the five years he has on the rest of you.

“Come on, dude,” you grin, sliding onto the seat next to him, rivulets of pool water trickling down your back. “You’ve gotta look sprightly. You’re seeing George today, right?”

“He’s seen me worse,” he grumbles, taking a sip. He pulls his sunglasses down his nose just enough to give you a once over. “Aren’t you seeing Nick?”

You nod, blowing steam away from your cup.

“And Joel.”

“Joel,” Adie repeats, like he’s rolling the name around his mouth. “Still want to do disgusting things to him?”

You pull a face, knocking his shoulder, and he clutches his stomach with a groan.

“Ew, Adie.”

“Don’t move me,” he gasps, “I’m not at my best.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you snipe, eyeing him over your coffee. He glances back at you once he’s taken a couple of deep breaths.

“Well? Do you?”

You wrinkle your nose at him.

“Obviously, asshole.”

He shrugs, a slow smile stretching his mouth as he curls himself over the counter. You giggle, an embarrassed little sound, and he snorts into his coffee, choking, spraying it over the marble and your arm. You howl at him - Oh, gross, dude - and then you’re cackling together, something like excitement finally rising in your gut. This is your best friend, this is the dream. And this is part of the cycle - tour, crash, doubt, do it again. You swipe your hand down your arm, holding it out to wipe on his shirt. He catches your wrist before you can, twisting so the silk is as far away from you as possible.

“Absolutely not,” he says, grappling with you, “If I have to go upstairs to change, I will literally never make it back down.”

You give up easily, knocking your forehead against his shoulder, still giggling. He smells like Adie. He smells like home.

“You, on the other hand,” he continues, pushing your head back roughly with his palm, “Could definitely do with a shower. If only for the one and only Mr Mi-”

You flick his ear, and he crows at you -

“Bastard! I’ll find some other wanker to sing!”

- as you take off, dancing around the island, edging towards the stairs.

You put your hands on your hips, tongue in cheek.

“I knew you never liked me - y’know, you were always much more made for the attention -”

“Shut the fuck uuup,” he groans, rolling his eyes, “I love you forever, kisses, kisses, whatever the fuck. Shower,” he says, levelling a finger at you.

You bite your lip against your smile.

“Will you be gone when I’m ready?”

He nods, making to cross himself. You snort again.

“God willing.”

“Alright. Have fun. Give George my love. Make sure Cam’s got nothing in his teeth.”

He smiles, all mischief, all genuine affection.

“Will do, bud. You too. Knock ‘em dead.”

You blow him a kiss as you begin to ascend the steps, and he feigns a swing to bat it away.

“Save them for Joel!”

You flash him the finger, and his cackle is the answer to your ringing -

“Fuck you, Gilman!”

Her voice is sweet, gentle down the phone. It makes his chest tighten a little, nails dig into his palms. I miss you.

“Dad, you’ll be fine,” Sarah sighs, breath of air shooting through the line. If he closes his eyes, he can see her smile. Knowing, placating. Hundreds of miles away, back in Texas for college. Sick of LA ever since they moved here.

Sometimes, Joel reckons she had the right idea.

“You’ve worked with way more intimidating people. And from what Nick’s said, she seems really nice.”

He grunts, swiping a hand across his face, scratching at his beard. She’s right.

“I know. Jus’ want it to go well. Feel like I know nothin’ about it, just gon’ be sittin’ there -”

“Dad,” she groans, “Chill out. Pick something you remember about the lyrics. Say something about the drums or melodies. Get a selfie for Ellie. That’s all you need to do. Anything else is a bonus.”

Joel casts a glance over at Ellie - all limbs sat at the kitchen counter, munching on cereal, earbuds in.

“Okay. Alright.”

There’s quiet for a moment, and he cringes at how well she can read him.

“Sure?” She checks. He clears his throat, nodding.

“Yeah. It’ll be fine.”

He can hear her smile again.

“It will. Right, I gotta go. Call me later, I want all the details.”

He chuckles, kneading his forehead.

“I will. I love you, baby girl.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

The line cuts, three beeps, and he turns his attention back to Ellie. Takes a moment to watch her head bopping, her foot tapping, before waving an arm around until she takes an earbud out.

“Ready to go, kiddo?”

She swallows comically, giving him a thumbs up before leaping off her seat, crossing the kitchen to deposit her bowl in the sink.

“Yup. Are you driving?” She asks, crossing back over to the foyer, eyeing the keys in the blue dish by the door.

“Sure am,” he grins, taking her bowl from the sink and stacking it in the dishwasher. She rolls her eyes, jamming a foot into a shoe. “Precious cargo.”

“Joel,” she groans, standing, “I am seventeen years old -”

“Ah,” he chuckles, clapping her on the back, opening the front door. “Still my kid. Let’s go.”

She’s watching him.

He can see how her eyes keep flicking this way in his periphery, her smirk from the passenger seat as he taps his thumbs on the steering wheel, chewing his cheek.

“Are you nervous?”

His eyes find hers, crinkled with a smile, warmth hidden behind the mirth. A depth of understanding that goes beyond her years.

He shrugs.

“Is it obvious?”

She looks out the windscreen, avoiding his eye, but he can still see the downwards tip of her mouth as she tries to hide her amusement.

“No.”

He grinds his jaw, feeling the beginnings of a flush crawl up his neck.

“You know,” Ellie says, turning to face him again, “She’s supposed to be really cool. Nice. They all are, even if you don’t meet the whole band. Forget about anything else you might’ve heard. And - she’s just a person. It doesn’t matter if you don’t sound like you know enough. It’s not your job.”

A single eyebrow climbs up his forehead.

“You heard that, huh?”

This time, she does smile.

“Relax,” she says, “And if you screw it up, at least get that selfie for me.”

He chuckles, eyes scanning back out over the road. Traffic, people, lights turning red to green.

“I’ll do my best.”

He doesn’t want to tell her how he stayed up late last night watching your interviews. Doesn’t want her to know how he watched the Wired Autocomplete video three times - because you’re funny. Smart and sharp, and private. He appreciates that. Knows you must have worked hard to reach a point where others have so many questions.

Doesn’t want her to know how he then went on to watch live performances, songs recorded in front of thousands of people. Wishing he’d paid better attention when she’d shown him before. Covers sung in live lounges, radio appearances - one by Sabrina Carpenter that’s been everywhere lately, another about orange blossoms, before finding his favourite. Just you, strumming a guitar - something rare in all the other footage he’d watched. Lover, You Should've Come Over.

How he’d then tapped out your name on Instagram, scrolling back through weeks of posts. Photoshoots, festivals, tour, magazine covers. Stumbled across edits, something Sarah had taught him about. Videos, compilations of you that made his face heat with shame, his heart beat faster. He’d thought he was above it all - within the same stratosphere, unaffected by such things. But he’d been proven wrong. Taken in by your voice, your words. How you looked in that dress, the sliver of stomach exposed on stage. Your doe eyes in the dark of a bathtub, a shoot for Vanity Fair.

He’s really realised, perhaps for the first time, that Ellie is right. Ellie, who’d had your posters up in her room until a year ago. Ellie, who Sarah had taken to your gig at the Staples Center. Ellie, who’d been playing your music - loud - ever since she’d first found it. Music which, he knows now, he also loves.

You are cool - so fucking cool, so fucking beautiful. Accomplished, respected, talented. And now he’s noticed the colour of your eyes, the curve of your lips, the ease with which you perform. The way you move, how electric you are.

And he’s going to be so out of his depth.

He pulls up just down the street from her school, slow halt of tires on tarmac, watching the throng of students cross the road. A jumble of bags moving along the sidewalk, and when they part, he watches Ellie grin as Dina looks up from her phone to wave at the two of them.

His daughter grabs the backpack by her feet before leaning over to kiss his cheek. He tries to smile.

“You’ve got this,” she whispers, a gentle hand on his arm. She smiles back as she pops open the door and scooches out. “Remember, selfie - and if Vic is there, tell her I’m single -”

“I’m right here,” Dina laughs from over her shoulder, giving Ellie a playful shove. Joel chuckles, returning her yelled Morning, Mr Miller. Ellie shrugs.

“Okay, tell her nothing. I just think she’s cool,” she winks, closing the door with a soft thud before throwing an arm around her girlfriend, chatting away to her as they disappear into the crowd of teenagers.

Joel waits until he can no longer see them before checking his flush in the rearview mirror. When he’s satisfied he looks close to normal, not nervous, he takes a deep breath and pulls off.

There’s someone he has to meet.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction

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darkshelbyfiction · 5 months

Text

Drugged (Thomas Shelby Blurb)

Warning: Non-Consensual Smut, CNC

"Ssh it's okay sweetheart," Tommy whispered into your ear as he unbuttoned your blouse while you were laying on his large king sized bed.

He yanked the blouse aside and pushed down your bra. "Wait, no. I don't want to do this," you managed to say in a trembling voice as you felt drowsy from the drink he had given you twenty minutes ago.

"I know you are scared, but it's going to be fine, I promise," he paused for a second and caressed your cheek, then dipped his head to kiss you softly on your lips.

His tongue explored your mouth bytes and thrusts, tasting the champagne and the sweet taste of your lips.

"No please don't. I'm a virgin," you tried to protest again, but the alcohol-laced drink was taking its toll, making you dizzy and weak.

"Oh sweetheart. That's okay. It will only hurt for a second or two," he whispered soothingly as he lifted up your skirt to reveal your cotton panties.

"But I don't want to do this," you managed to say, fighting to keep your eyes open.

Tommy let out a deep sigh and kissed your neck softly, then whispered in your ear, "And I am sorry it had to be this way my sweet girl, but you rejected me for long enough," he told you as he gently slid your underwear to one side and ran a finger over your slit.

You gasped and tried to wriggle away from his touch, but he was too strong for you, arms and legs pinned down, unable to even squirm away his face impassive and relaxed as he traced a finger along your tight dry hole.

He then parted your pussy lips with two of his fingers and groaned. "Oh god your opening is so small," Tommy said as he roughly pushed a finger inside you, causing you to yelp in pain.

"I am sorry Love," he whispered as he pushed his finger in and out of your sore vagina, trying to stretch and loosen you.

You squirmed and tried to fight back but you were no match for his strength.

Within moments he was pushing two fingers inside you, causing you to cry out loud.

"Oh god it hurts," you whimpered as tears rolled down your cheeks.

But Tommy didn't stop, he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, stretching you and loosening you.

"That's it Love, you're doing well, eh," he said with a hint of pride in his voice. "I know it hurts but you have to be brave for me just a little longer, alright?"

You nodded through your tears, and he rewarded you with a soft kiss on your forehead. "Good girl."

Tommy pulled his fingers out of you and reached over to his nightstand to retrieve some lubricant.

You couldn't help but gaze at his cock as he prepared himself, lubing up his shaft. It was long and thick, and you couldn't imagine how it was going to fit inside you.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle," Tommy reassured you as he positioned himself between your legs.

He spread your pussy lips again with his fingers and guided the tip of his cock to your entrance.

You closed your eyes and braced yourself for the pain, praying that it would be over soon.

"Here we go Love, just breathe," Tommy said as he began to apply pressure.

You felt your body resisting, trying to keep him out, but it was no use.

Slowly, he pushed himself inside you, and you screamed out in pain.

"I'm sorry, Love, I am sorry it had to be this way," Tommy said once more, his voice strained as he tore through your hymen.

With a tremendous effort, he forced himself all the way inside you, stopping only once he bottom out. His cock was fully sheathed in your tight vagina, his balls resting against your ass.

"Oh god!" you cried out in pain, your whole body tensing up as you felt a stinging sensation that you never thought possible.

Tommy's body tightened in response to your cries. He looked down at your tear-stricken face, his expression flickered between pain, worry, and frustration.

"I'm sorry, Love," he whispered, kissing you on the forehead before Withdrawing himself slowly. "Just a bit longer, eh?"

Tommy murmured, biting his lower lip as he pushed back in and felt your tight vaginal muscles squeeze around his cock. "You feel so fucking good around me, do you know that?"

In response, you cried out in pain as Tommy began to thrust into you again, the harsh grunts and groans of pleasure falling from his lips growing louder with each brutal stroke. Your head knocked back into the pillow, tears streaming down your cheeks, as your body attempted to adjust to the trauma being inflicted upon it.

"Such a good girl, taking my cock so well," Tommy grunted as he continued to thrust in and out of your sore pussy. His lips found yours once more in a brutal kiss, muffling your whimpers.

" Shhh, I'm sorry, Love. I'm sorry," Tommy kept whispering as he continued to thrust, your desperate moans, cries, and sobs lost between kisses.

His cock was relentless and would not give up as it pistoned in and out of you. Your legs were trembling, the muscles spasming and trying their best to shut him out.

Meanwhile, Thomas Shelby's hand was tangled in your long, brown hair, using it as leverage as he powered into your tender, broken body.

He could feel the tense resistance of your virginity as it gave way to his forceful intrusion, and the pain that followed was a small price to pay for the satisfaction of conquering something so precious.

Thomas grunted and swore as he continued to thrust into you, feeling the tight grip of your body around his cock increasing with every stroke. He looked down and saw your face scrunched up in agony as you tried to adjust to his size, but his increasing pleasure drowned out any sympathy that may have arisen.

With every thrust, the tight friction of your unprepared body gripped his cock, begging for release.

"Goddamn, girl. You're so fucking tight," Thomas grunted, grabbing onto your hips for better leverage as he prepared himself to ejaculate deep inside you. "And I am going to cum so hard, Love."

"No, please don't," you managed to say in a shaky voice, tears still streaming down your cheeks, but your plea fell on deaf ears.

Thomas pressed himself in deeper, grinding his hips into you as he released his semen inside your already aching-from-pain pussy.

"Sssh, it's okay Love. It's almost over. Fuck," Thomas groaned into your ear as he convulsed, his cock twitching inside your abused pussy, filling you with his warm cum.

You couldn't help but wince as he came inside you, the painful sensation of his seed filling every inch of your tight pussy sending waves of discomfort throughout your entire body.

It was a sticky and wet feeling, and you could feel his cum seeping out of your pussy, trailing down the crack of your ass and onto the bedsheets beneath you.

Thomas, his body now still and spent, rolled off of you and collapsed onto the bed next to you.

His chest was still heaving, his breaths slowing down, and you could hear his satisfied grunts and groans as he lay there, savoring the afterglow of what he had just done to you.

You, on the other hand, were lying there crying, tears streaming down your face as you stared blankly up at the ceiling. You could feel his warm, wet seed mixed with the blood from your now-torn hymen slowly seeping out of your pussy, leaving you feeling violated, dirty, and devastated.

"Why?" you managed to whisper, your voice shaking as you struggled to come to terms with what had just happened.

Thomas didn't respond right away, but after a few seconds, he sat up and turned to face you.

"Why?" he echoed, a hint of surprise in his voice. "I thought it was clear, Love. You were mine for the taking."

#peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #thomas shelby imagine #cilliean murphy smut #cillian murphy #thomas shelby #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby smut

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konigsblog · 4 months

Text

the type of morning sex you have with könig (🌽 link)

“You’re so beautiful, little one. So irresistible.” König's voice is quiet and seductive, sending shivers down your spine at his hot breath against the back of your neck and the gravelly, low, and tired sound of his voice.

He's always so needy in the morning, his crave for your sweet touch and words intensifying as he gazes upon you, admiring your naked figure, half-covered by the bedsheets. You do it on purpose, sleeping bare to rile him up and leave him complaining about his morning wood, to mock him for being so greedy and attention deprived.

König's dick swells with lust at the sight of your glossy cunt. Your nipples are hard and perky as the cold breeze slips through the open window, with your pussy becoming wetter when König humps your tight hole desperately, giving you his best puppy eyes in an attempt to convince you. “Bitte, Liebling...”

He feels ashamed for being so desperate all the time, he feels as if he's constantly bothering you for sex, obsessed with the pulsing sensation and the soft and smooth texture.

Since meeting you and becoming your boyfriend, his sex drive has gone through the roof. He wants to blame you, but it's all because of his lack of control, the undeniable urge to take you whenever he can. König grabs you and holds you close to his chest. You're sitting on top of him with his arms holding underneath your knees, his well-built hips angled to push his slick, hard cock inside your gummy walls. Your grip König's face and kiss him all over lovingly, cooing at him for being so horny while he rolls his eyes at your playfulness and sinks deeper into your warm walls.

Your cunt is dangerously addictive, like a drug to König. You moan out blissfully and bite your bottom lip before pressing your lips against his at the stretch. Your core tightens and you arch your back as you become delirious, your fingers tangled in König's locks of auburn hair, making out with him messily through the pulsing pleasure. König bucks his broad hips into you and groans into your lips, sucking on each other's tongues while listening to the sound of the birds whistling outside, along with the sound of his heavy balls smacking against your tight rear with each deep thrust. “Scheiße, you drive me crazy, Mäusi.”

It's König's favourite way to start his day; fucking you until you're breathless. Although, König won't let you go until noon, when you're aching with his load spilling out of your aroused cunny.

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yndrgrl · 6 months

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yandere! dabi x fem reader?

you're a fool to think that you could trick japan's no. 1 mafia boss, yandere! dabi , & get away with it

long ass fic. crime lord x spy. quirkless! au. heavily tatted! dabi lmaooo. extra dark romance. fem! reader. ooc! dabi. picture "diet mountain dew" playing, thanks. manz is OBSESSED obsessed.

warnings: nsfw, depictions of extreme/hardcore sex, sex slavery, obsessive behavior, making "movies," mentions of heavy stalking & panty stealing, sex in front of his men, sadism, reader passes out, light knifeplay,

a/n: uhhh is this too much (i hope not cuz i have a couple more hardcore ones cooking) 😭 also look, i'm finally doing the requests that are long overdue... my fault, g.

"boss, she's here," one of dabi's goons said after he knocked on the large, mahogany door. there was shuffling, laughter, then a muffled "send her in," that followed.

"you heard the man," the other shrugged, opening the door for you. after you, they followed into the room.

your heart was pounding out of your chest & there was a violent ringing in your ear. your breathes were shallow & shaken, yet you had to maintain a calm composure because, in the eyes of japan's most notorious criminal mastermind, you were merely a recruiter for his mob. you're playing the part as a low-life thug/seductress who's in desperate need of money.

of course, that's not the case. you had a good head on your shoulders. you were working for japan's government, a special operation unit ran by a sergeant dubbed "endeavor." your mission is to gather information, find out their next big drug trade, & bust it while keeping your head down. & honestly, it's been going well. you were prepared to fight off dabi's goons left & right because, well... you're a woman, & they are horny, egotistical assholes.

however, none of them approached you. all of them looked scared of you, actually. you felt like a badass, but it was also compromising your mission. how in god's name are you supposed to collect intel of no one will talk with you?

"(y/n), baby, please have a seat," said dabi, snapping you out of your thoughts. you didn't know if you should smile or stay stoic, but your nerves got the better of you & your lips curled upwards.

"yes, sir," you said back. you allowed yourself to notice him, his features. he wore a suit, presumably to look professional even though it just made him look intimidating. with his jet black hair, bags under his piercing blue eyes, & pale skin littered with ink, he had an aura around him, & there's no wonder why or how he's gotten so powerful. his tattoos that were visible to you were mainly on his face & on his hands; there was a bold line stretching ear to ear, dipping in the crevasse of his mouth. it made him look like he had a smile. under the bold line were more intricate tattoos-- flowers, thorns, knives, the works.

"please, call me whatever your heart desires, princess," he purred, & the doors of his lavish office slammed shut. there was no reception in this part of his headquarters, you've already checked. you tried reasoning with your worries, telling yourself that there was no way you've been caught, you haven't even talked to anyone!

you replied, "i am anything but a princess, sir."

"sticking with sir?" he questioned, & you nodded, then he continued, "you can be anything you want to be, no?"

"in the perfect world, i guess i could," you said with furrowed brows. why were you in here exactly?

"no, no, no. that's not what i mean."

"my apologies, what did you mean?" you asked, fighting yourself not to fidget. fidgeting means that your nervous, being nervous means you've done something you're not supposed to, & you haven't dont anything wrong.

"i mean, you," he pointed at you, dragging the word longer than he had to, "you. can be anything you want." he was met with a calculating silence. the hairs on the back of your neck stood tall.

finally, you questioned, "why am i here, sir? i'm just a... you know, a concubine." that was your role.

"oh, are you now? what exactly are you doing for my company?" he leaned forward, his face resting in the palm of his hand. he looked bored, yet there was a twinkle in his eyes that said otherwise. it finally sunk in what kind of position you are in. there are two men guarding the only exit, there are three armed men standing behind dabi, & the infamous crime lord himself was sitting across from you, only a desk length away.

"i'm sending men your way so you can grow you um.. company," you told him, & that was the story you're sticking with.

dabi, with a smirk, muttered under his breath with a laugh, "you're fuckin' priceless, doll." with a clear voice this time, he asked, "has anyone touched you?"

what kind of question is that? "yes, sir." no, no one has, you were lying.

he still had a smirk on his face, his bright blue eyes drilling into yours. he fished something in his pocket, his eyes still glued on you. in your head, you kept screaming it was a gun or a knife, he was going to shoot you point blank, you're about to die-

"why do you look so scared, hun?" taunted dabi, finally throwing his hand out of his pocket, & you flinched. this is it, he's about to kill you with a... lighter? wait. he snapped his fingers with the hand that his face was resting on. one of his henchmen quickly handed him something. lighting it, he sneered, "it's just a cigarette~"

he inhaled deep, & blew out a puff a of grey smoke your direction. "you're so jumpy, babe."

"i'm just confused why i'm here is all," you swallowed, your eyes watering slightly because of the smoke.

"i'm considering you for a promotion," he said in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone.

"a promotion?"

"yeah, you could call it that. instead of being some recruiter-prostitute, how does 'dabi's little housewife slut' sound instead? nice ring to it, huh?" he said, breathing in the tobacco & studying your expression.

"i-i'm sorry?" you coughed out, shocked.

"you can be anything, can't you? that's your whole job, am i wrong?" he questioned, eyes darkening. his playful demeanor was gone, & something more sinister glossed over his expression.

"i'm not sure what you mean-" you were cut off by his fist slamming down on his desk, the things on it vibrating & falling off.

"(y/n), do you think i'm stupid?"

"n-no, of course not, sir!" you tried to reason, maybe he was upset about something else.

"do you think i'm fuckin' stupid?" the man scowled, standing up to his feet. his henchmen gripped their weapons tighter, their backs just a bit more straighter. oh, he knew.

"i don't think you're stupid, sir. you're a smart man, i know that-"

"though your flattery gets me hard, it's unwanted right now, doll," dabi told you as he walked towards you while you were just sitting there, your hands on your lap. you picked the dirt from under your nails, the balls of your feet grinding the vintage rug underneath you. your eyes were trained on him in fear that, if you looked away, he'd pounce.

under your breath, you repeated unsure, "hard?" you didn't mean to say anything, it just slipped out. suddenly, as he was standing directly on your side, he gripped the arms of your chair & forced it to turn. he caged you between him & the chair, him bent down so his face was only inches away from you. you could smell the smoke on his breath, his expensive cologne, & faint iron smell-- whether it was blood or gunpowder, you didn't want to find out.

"you're so bold, spying on me~ i didn't think you'd actually accept the job, yet here you are, thinking you are just so clever, huh?" he laughed in your face, but his tone was still deep.

"y-you know?" you stuttered out, eyes wide. he was so close to you, he was a killer with no remorse, that's what they told you before you took this mission. you've heard it all before, & you've taken guys like him down, but they've never caught on to you. you had no plan, all you could do is hope that your crew knew your location.

"of course i know, (y/n)~ i know so much about you, & i must say, i'm such a fan," he started, looking at you up and down. you weren't cowering away from him, but you also weren't confident. you were going to try something, he knew it. "i'm honored to be your next big case. it's such a shame you won't be completing your mission though."

you swallowed thickly, & you gave him your best don't-fuck-with-me glare you could muster. "what now then? you caught me, you gonna kill me now?" you barked, hoping to intimidate him. instead, you were met with a bone chilling smile.

he chuckled, brushing his fingers through his wild hair, "oh no, sweetheart, i'm afraid you don't understand~" you started to search for something under your skirt-your gun- when he tightly gripped your wrist. "don't," he warned as he matched your glare.

the firm grasp you had on your gun loosened & it fell on the floor. he kicked it towards one of his men, who swiftly unloaded the mag & tossed it in the trash. "if it's information you want, you're not getting it outta me."

"wrong again, you get one more chance."

"would you stop fucking with me!?" you screamed at him, ready to oppose anything he wanted you to do. he gripped your chin, his fingers squishing your cheeks together, & your hands shot up & held his wrist as you tried to wriggle out.

"watch your mouth when you talk to me," he warned, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. "such a dirty mouth. if you were anyone else, i would've shot you instantly. consider yourself lucky."

"shtawp! le'me go!" you muttered through your puckered up lips, & surprisingly, he listened. once he let you go, you through yourself back into the chair to create as much distance as possible (it wasn't much). "wh-what are you going on about, dabi?"

"i thought i was, 'sir,' doll? what happened? we friends now?" he teased. the man gave you a fake pout & an eye roll.

"you wish. now answer me. what are you t-" he locked eyes with you once again, & you stumbled over your words, "t-talking about?"

he let out a dark chuckle, kneeling in front of you so his face was nearly resting on your lap. "princess, haven't you notice something weird has been happening ever since you took down shigiraki almost a year ago? don't you always feel like you're never alone? things appear in your car out of nowhere? your panties go missing from your apartment? haven't you ever wondered why you always feel so uneasy no matter where you are?"

your expression shifted from confused to terrified.

"you think you're all alone when you're scrubbing those perfect tits in the shower, huh? you really put on a show f'me when you masterbate. so fuckin' nasty, you know. i would love to know who's on your mind when you fingerfuck yourself," he said, licking his lips. his suit pants were tight enough that it was hard to miss the growing bulge. your eyes were teary out of embarrassment. "but i think i know who's on your mind when you do such dirty things."

"y-you don't know anything. m-my crew will be here soon o-once they realize i-i've been caught!" you fought, yet he had no care in the world. he through open your legs & tsked. you were told to wear a short skirt to "make it more believable," & now you're regretting everything. you tried to press your hands in between your thighs to block your clothed pussy out of his curious gaze.

"do you think so? cuz i think that they've completely forgetten about you 'cuz someone gave endeavor an anonymous tip on where my next drug deal will be held. i think that's more important than some captured spy, to be honest," he told you, "besides -men, hold her down- i have a feeling you actually really want this."

his goons, as they were told, held your wrists to the arms of the chair while another stood behind you, his gun looming just barely in the line of your vision. your legs were spread, & your arms were restrained. you thrashed as dabi's hot touch trailed up your calf to your inner thigh. your face was red hot in anger & flushed in shame. to fit your role, you wore a dark purple thong. your body betrayed you, a wet spot staining your panties. "st-stop! you-you're under arrest!"

"i-i-i am! oh n-no! wh-whatever will i do?!" he mocked, & his men laughed like he was some comedian. "please, (y/n), love, drop the fuckin' act. it's cute & all, but i'd rather you'd just stop pretending, i want you to enjoy this as much as i'm going to~" he faux pleaded, but he knew, either way, you were going to love it eventually. he heard your sighs of content whenever you read 'good guy x bad guy' spicy romances, he recorded you moaning his name when you first got assigned to this case.

"i-i really won't tell anyone, p-please let me go," you begged, watching him stand up & take off his blazer. he threw off his tie, unbuttoned his white dress shirt, revealing his toned, tatted body. every part of his torso, chest, & arms were inked with dark grey tattoos. on his left pec was your initials in some fancy, grand font-- except it was a fleshy pink. a healed scar.

"you like it? or are you scared? i can't really tell," dabi questioned, leaning close to you. his guard's hands were replaced by his. "(y/n), if you tell me to stop nicely, maybe i will. granted, i'll lock you up until you're ready, but i'd wait. so tell me, with that dirty mouth of yours, what do you want?"

"uhm... w-what are you talking about?" you tried to avoid his inquiries, it shamed you to say the least. if you were to say what you wanted -what you truly wanted- you'd betray your country. you didn't want to answer.

"now, or later?" he repeated, tapping your wrist. "i'm gonna need to hear you say somethin' or i'll just do whatever i want, & trust me; you won't be able to handle it."

you were silent, your eyes darted from his icy ones, to his cold lips, to his tattooed body, & back to his eyes. avoidant, maybe that's all you have to do. he'll get bored of someone quiet, no?

"(y/n)~ sweetheart~ you're making a bad choice by keeping your mouth shut, unless that's what you want. you want me to use you, hm?" he teased, biting his lip afterward. dabi knew that look you were giving him because it's the one he gives you all the time. pure, primal lust. intrigue. but mostly lust.

you opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. your heart was beating out of your chest, your voice caught onto your throat. you pondered, just for a moment, & you let your impulse control the outcome; you stayed silent.

after shutting your mouth, dabi smirked devilishly. "you've made your choice, remember that. so don't get too mad at me, 'kay? i give you permission to enjoy this as much as you want, but you probably didn't need my permission," he snickered. the man didn't even let you answer before capturing your rosy lips with his.

his kisses were intense, rough, yet so, so needy for you. in between pants & kisses, he whispered things like, "i've held myself back f' you," &, "god, fuckin' finally." your wrists were once again restrained by his henchmen, while his hands wandered around your body. as one hand cup your precious face, the other groped your tits through your clothes. if one shifted around your neck, the other one would be gripping your hips, bruising you already.

his pierced tongue explored your mouth. saliva dripped from the corners of your mouth, dribbling down your chin. his tongue was down your throat as he choked you. your spine jolted when two, long fingers began to ghost up and down your pussy, pushing a little harder over your clothes clit. he hooked the front part of your thong & pulled up. you let out a muffled scream as your panties disappeared in between your pussy lips. they were drenched in your arousal, & now you started leaking onto your skirt & his chair.

he finally released you from his kiss, your lungs burning. you let in a few shallow breaths before dabi bit your neck. he still had your thong wrapped around his finger, & every so often, he would pull upwards, & a scream of pained pleasure would follow in suit. bite marks & hickeys covered your neck. "all mine~" he purred, licking your tender neck.

"let's get these fuckin' clothes off'a ya," snarled dabi through gritted teeth. it was like opening a present for him. he tore through your t-shirt with ease, not even bothering undressing you all the way so the fabric just hung off of your shoulders. he suddenly fished a knife out of his pocket & cut your bra off of your body. he glided the dull side between the valley of your breasts, down to your heaving stomach. he shoved your mini skirt up around your waist & he cut off your soaked thong.

"fuckin' hell, babe. i've been dreaming about this," he groaned, stabbing the blade into his wooden desk. dabi squeezed your plush thighs, his handprints bruised on your skin. what was strange was how his men acted while the two of you were intimate; they were stoic & unwavering, their hardened faces expressionless.

they were under dabi's complete control, & that's just how he is. he knows how to get people on his side, he knows when they're interested, that's why he's such an influential man. "you really thought you could trick me?" he barked, pulling his leather belt out of his pants' loops. he fastened the belt around your wrists. "poor, little (y/n)~ all hot & bothered in front of the enemy~" with your hands bound, your legs were put onto the arms of the chair. once again, you were restrained by his men. ashamed & -quite honestly- turned on, you were splayed out on the chair, legs spread & pussy throbbing.

he undid the button on his pants, & they fell to the floor. his boxers were soon to follow. you were gawking his member, you couldn't help it. it's the biggest, thickest, you've ever been with in your life.

a smug, toothy grin stretched on his face as he watched your reaction. "you look shocked, doll," he noticed. dabi stood right in front of you, the tip of his cock gently slapping your clit. the contact made you jolt every time. "you've never been with someone like me, huh? that's why you're so quiet?"

you nodded sheepishly while you stared up at him with your doe eyes. he coated himself in your arousal before lining himself up with your entrance. dabi, in such a hushed tone it almost sounded sweet, cooed, "it's a shame i'm gonna use that perfect body. i want you to remember you chose this."

"y-yes sir, i-i remember," you replied back. when he whispered in your ear, it sent electricity up your spine, & you'd subconsciously arch your back.

he placed a firm kiss on your jaw, & he praised, "that's my girl~" dabi slid past you folds, diving himself into your entrance. he let out a throaty groan as he through his head back. his adam's apple bobbed, his hair becoming even more disheveled. dabi wasn't a man known for his slow, savory approach; his gentle demeanor was short-lived. he forced his cock into your dripping hole balls-deep. you let out a breathy scream, eyes widen for a second.

dabi towered over you, muscles flexed with every thrust. he pounded you into the chair that, with every thrust, you felt the chair legs wobble underneath you. he shooed his guards away from you because, in all honesty, you were not getting away from him. he's wanted you for too damn long, he's been patient enough.

honestly, it surprised him how slow you were taking the mission. you were behind enemy lines for months, you'd think that you would want to spend the least amount of time there as possible. it's no matter though, he has you right where he wants you. "aren't you worried, (y/n)? you're so quick to trust me," he pointed out in between his harsh thrusts.

every jerk made your tits bounce; he was fucking you so hard that your hearing became fuzzy. he kept hitting your g-spot over & over with the same roughness. "mnh~ t-too fast~ ngh-ahh," you whimpered. did he say something? if he didn't, you didn't even notice. it just was so overwhelming. even though you couldn't keep your mind straight, dabi still kept fucking you like you were some sex doll.

what snapped you back to reality was when a snap echoed off the walls, & your elevation changed. there was a pressure against your chest & a slight pain your back that was soon stretched out. the chair broke from beneath you. your head was cupped by dabi's tattooed hand. he laid flush against you while he folded you in half. your knees were to your chest & your legs rested on his broad shoulders.

at this angle, you could feel his cock in your stomach pumping in & out of your pussy. you let out a scream of pleasure as you begged, "sl-slow down! c-can't handle it!"

"aww~ i'm so sorry, doll face. i can't do that for you. maybe next time though," he joked as though he wasn't pounding you into oblivion. tears of overstimulation & slight frustration welled in your eyes. it was like you were cursed to overwhelming pleasure & moaning out his name forever.

god, did he have stamina. after an hour of raw fucking, he flipped in so many different positions. after the mating press, he put you into missionary with a tight grip on your plush hips. your arousal stained his expensive carpet, not that he cared because he'll just hire someone to clean it.

while he missionary, he let out a hearty groan, & his voice broke for a second. he held you tight as he drained his cum inside of your weeping hole. you thought that would be the end, but he took only a moment to breath before flipping you over to fuck you from behind.

ass in the air, back arched, & your face pressed against the ground, you saw stars that began to cloud your already-blurry vision. he rubbed your sensitive clit while he pumped his cock in & out of gorgeous, pitiful you. you whined for an ounce of sympathy. it was your first mistake thinking he was a normal man, & your second mistake was staying quiet when he so-graciously gave you a choice on how you wanted him.

"you're taking me so well, doll~" he praised with kisses on your arched back. you clenched around him when he said that, & his brow quirked up. "oh? you like that? you're squeezing so tight after i said that," he laughed. "you're such a pretty girl, all cock drunk just f'me~"

"st-stop it, you're b-being so-so mean," you sniffled but you didn't actually mean it... you were kind of a brat, but that's a secret you'd never tell. xoxo.

once you said that, he went more rough than before-- something you didn't realize was possible. you've creamed on his cock more times than you could count on your fingers with both your hands, yet he's only ejaculated once. the white stars started out as tiny dots, yet every time you came on dabi's thick, hard cock, they grew bigger. "g-gunna, i'm g-gunna... cu.. cum," you droned, letting the white stars overtake your vision, & all the sounds you hear became nothing more than a buzz. the only thing you could hear is dabi's laughter as you slowly slipped from consciousness. you squirted all over his cock -something you've never done before- then passed out. you went completely limp as subconscious sighs of pure hormonal ecstasy mixed with your heaving breath.

"uh oh, someone couldn't handle it," dabi tutted, yet he was still relentless as ever, make good of his promise to use you however he pleased. "what time is it?" he called out, & one of his men answered.

"hmm... i think it's about time for the show to begin then~" dabi said, petting your knotted hair as he scratched your scalp (all while he's still inside you, mind you). he came all over your ass a few moments later, then he carried you to his leather couch.

~~~

"where the fuck are we?" endeavor muttered as he stood in front of an abandoned movie theater.

"this is where the tip said dabi would be," his right hand man, hawks, told him. they were both in their tactical gear equipped with war-grade guns & knives at their disposal. soldiers rushed out the back of van in a single file line & they branched off to surround the building. some hid within the trees & branches, others crouched beside the doors to the building, but they were all waiting for one thing; endeavor's command. "should we try contacting (y/n) to see if she's heard anything?"

"we can't," endeavor said shortly, it would compromise the mission if they reached out to you before the designated time. you've agreed to have a twenty minute rendezvous with one of your "co-workers" every three days at three in the morning. your next scheduled rendezvous would be tomorrow.

his walkie-talkie buzzed off, & one of the squad captains said, "team one, in position."

"team two, in position."

"team three, in position."

"team four, in position."

endeavor, after hearing each captain, responded, "team zero, in position. take initiative in three... two... one...!" the burly man kicked open the main entrance door then pointed his gun around, using the flashlight to scan the area.

on his radio, he suddenly heard, "we've found something in theater nine!"

"hold your position, i am on my way. any surrounding teams make your way towards theater nine."

he stepped over debris, ignored any graffiti on the wall, & noted just how dark the atmosphere got the further he went down the corridor. down the hall was a glowing number nine above the very end left door. the fact that there was still electricity running through the building made him wonder how long dabi has been using this place for deliveries. it made him upset that he was right under his nose.

for years he's been hunting this man, this mafia who always seemed to be two steps ahead of him. now? now he had the upper hand. he has the newest, strongest equipment. his men were in the peak physical condition with reaction times as fast as f1 drivers. yet why was it this easy? he couldn't help but wonder.

endeavor reached theater nine, hawks close behind. the rest of his team stayed out of the room for look out. the other teams were already in the theater, fingers on their guns' trigger. it made a few of them jump when the projector started. "there's a man up there!" one yelled, & immediately endeavor turned over his shoulder to shoot at the projector window.

the bullet shattered the window, narrowly missing the shadowy figure. a team was already in pursuit, the captain speaking through their radio to let the others know. the projector was still running, & a voice caught endeavor's attention. his breath hitched, eyes narrowed.

"hello, endeavor~" greeted dabi, shirtless & coy as ever. "right on time, how did i know you were gonna be here?" he taunted, & endeavor noticed dabi's icy eyes darting down then back to the camera. all that was in frame was his upper half, a grand bookshelf in the background. his arm rested stretched out on the back his sofa. the other was in his lap.

"now before you leave & try to take this film for whatever, i wanna give you some peace in mind. my initial plan was just to blow all of you gullible fuckers up, but your cute little spy begged me not to, so you all better thank her. bad news though, you're not gonna see her any time soon," dabi sighed with fake sadness.

whispers erupted from endeavors soldiers. "(y/n)? is he talking about (y/n)?" "fuck... you don't think he..."

"don't get you panties in a twist, she's more than alright. i take good care of her. honestly, i should thank you for sending her right to me. when we get married, i might invite you to the wedding~" he cackled, & a cough was heard through the video. dabi suddenly looked down & yanked something, no, someone up. the back of your head was seen on the bottom of the camera.

"you fucker," endeavor cursed, even though it would fall on deaf ears. he couldn't tear his eyes away from the video. he wasn't even studying it anymore, he was just listening in disbelief.

"i made this movie to... send a message, i guess you could say," he shrugged nonchalantly. he looked back down to you, & his eyes softened. "c'mere, princess," he whispered, & as though you were hypnotized, you climbed atop his lap. "face the camera, show everyone how pretty you are~" & you did as you were told.

gasps filled the theater, nearly everyone looked away & took off their helmets. "oh, my god," hawks said in shock, it just slipped out. he looked at his -self-proclaimed- partner to gauge his reaction. endeavor couldn't tear his icy blue eyes away from the screen. he was as stiff as a statue, breath held.

the camera zoomed out, & there you were in dabi's bare lap, he held your legs wide open. your eyelids drooped, drool made your lips glossy, & you were practically limp in his hold. goops of cum seeped out of your puffy pussy, there was ropes of his semen covered your thighs & lower stomach. hickeys & hand-shape marks bruised your skin. instead of yearning eyes, begging for help, you had a nearly lovesick smile on your face. gently, dabi kissed your head, pecking down to your cheeks & he said hushed sweet-nothings into your ear.

"don't ever try to spy on me again, endeavor. & don't try to save (y/n), she doesn't need it. i promise i'll take such good care of her~"

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toxicanonymity · 2 years

Text

night walks (original)

2k | pothead neighbor!Joel x f!reader

joel miller masterlist | night walks masterlist

He shrugs and leans in. You don't lean away. He takes your chin in his hand and your mouth opens for him, emptying your lungs before you can tell your body no. He gets less than an inch from your lips and exhales into your mouth as you inhale deeply, accepting his breath.

Summary: Joel, an older neighbor you've been walking with late at night, asks you into his basement to sell him weed but has other intentions.

content warnings: I8+ nsfw, drugs, dubcon, unsafe PIV sex, dirty talk, light imprisonment, creepy pothead joel, age gap (unspecified), possible dosing, no outbreak, Joel is untrustworthy.

(a/n): felt like writing some sex and taking a new Joel for a spin.

You're living in your Aunt's basement in a conservative suburban neighborhood while you work a dead-end job. You keep to yourself and don't know anyone in the neighborhood. You take a walk late at night. Not uncommon for you. Normally, no one is out, so you light up a joint as you round the corner into a dark cul-de-sac.

"That smells good," a gruff, disembodied voice says.

You startle and look around. "It's cool, I'm cool " he says, and your eyes land on him in the shadows. It's Joel Miller sitting out on the porch in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. "Sorry I scared you. I'm no snitch," he adds. "Have a good night."

He comes out almost every night from then on and starts to make small talk. One night he comes down from the porch in PJ pants and a tight t-shirt, stretched by his biceps, and asks if he can walk a lap with you. You're like, whatever. This is when you start to notice how hot he is, having barely seen him in the shadows. The PJ pants are a little too flattering on his ass and you can also see the ample size of his package. His beard glistens with bits of gray and silver.

In the darkest corner of the neighborhood one night, he says "hey" and his hand brushes the back of your hip. You turn and look into his eyes and his face darkens. He wets his lips and your heart races. He asks, "Mind if I hit that?"

You pass it to him and there's a spark when your fingers touch. The intimacy of his mouth on your joint makes you blush. His brow furrows as he takes a drag and maintains eye contact. Something in his gaze gives you butterflies between the legs.

He shares bits and pieces about himself. Sounds like he's having some kind of a midlife crisis. His wife cheated. He's moved into the basement and made a man cave. He starts crossing your mind during the day. What's his deal, why is he talking to you? Are you friends now? You're not sure if he's lonely or a creep.

One night, he sheepishly approaches you about buying some weed. He wants you to bring it to his man cave so you can show him the stuff and remind him how to roll a joint and all.

He lets you in the side door. When he holds the door open, you get a whiff of his sweat. He's listening to Pink Floyd. His tight shirt is blotched in perspiration and his muscles are pumped up.

He asks, "Mind if I finish this set?"

"Sure."

It's burning up inside and you're in joggers and a hoodie. You sit down on the couch and try not to watch. You look around the room at his TV, the bar. Your eyes drift to the bench where he's on his back, his shirt riding up exposing his happy trail, his package pressing up into his joggers.

"Don't be shy. You can watch," he says without looking over.

He's definitely a creep. He counts down from 5 then racks the bar and sits up. He looks you up and down. You put your thin metal case on a tray that's sitting on the ottoman in front of you.

He goes and locks the door where you came in - the bolt and the slider.

"Drink?" He asks, and walks behind the bar. "Gotta tell me what you want or you get an IPA."

"I'm good."

He brings you an IPA.

He uses his shirt to wipe his brow. He sits down right next to you, with plenty of other space on the couch, and stretches his arm out behind you. He catches you glancing toward the locked door.

"Too late now, pumpkin." He adjusts himself. "Come on, loosen up." He hands you the beer and you take a sip.

"Good girl." He looks you up and down again.

You put the beer down on the tray and lean forward, elbows on your knees. "Alright, so. . ."

His massive hand rubs your back slowly and it feels a little too good for comfort. You try to ignore it.

You open the weed case and get out the baggie and rolling papers. "You're gonna take-"

"Yeah, I know how to do it,” he smirks. He tucks some cash in your case – a little too much – and closes it.

Then he pulls out his own case from under the couch. He puts the weed you gave him in there and pulls out his own stash. You open your mouth but aren't sure what to say.

"You gotta hit this. Really, try it," he says.

You watch him roll the most perfect joint in the world.

You call him out. "Why'd you act like such a noob?"

"How else was I gonna get you in here, hm?”

Your cheeks burn.

“Now we're all set to do what we want." A self-satisfied smile creeps across his face. "I won't tell, you won't tell. . . " He winks at you and his eyes sparkle.

You tense. "I won't tell what?"

He brazenly eye-fucks you. "What are you gonna say, you came over to sell me weed? C’mon.”

He strokes your hair. You're a little sick to your stomach. You get another whiff of his sweat and curse your body for responding favorably.

"Where's your wife?"

"Hell if I know," he shrugs. His hungry eyes don't leave you alone.

"Damn, you're hot," he blurts out. It's exactly what you were trying not to think about him, but shit, he is.

He puts the joint in his mouth and lights up, then his arm returns behind you. His thumb strokes the nape of your neck and you don't move away. Not to be intimidated, you turn slightly toward him. He inhales, holds in the breath, then offers you the joint.

You hold up your hand and refuse the joint.

He shrugs and leans in. You don't lean away. He takes your chin in his hand and your mouth opens for him, emptying your lungs, before you can tell your body no. He gets less than an inch from your lips and exhales into your mouth as you inhale deeply, accepting his breath.

"Atta girl," he says, followed by a small cough into his fist.

You exhale the smoke slowly, then take a deep breath of clean air and exhale again.

His large, veiny hand rubs your thigh and you sit in silence for a moment.

He says, "Good shit, right?"

It's amazing. "Did you just dose me?"

He laughs. "Shotgunnin's a hell of a way to dose someone. Nah it's just about findin' the right strain, pumpkin"

Whatever it is - the weed, the beer, his sweat, his body, the glimmer in his eyes. . . Whatever it is has you hot all over and tingling between the legs. You fidget with the zipper of your hoodie.

He puts his hand over yours and tugs the zipper, his hand dangerously close to your tits. "Let's take that off," he says. You take it off, leaving a tank top and no bra, and fold it up at the arm of the couch. Part of you is unsure why you're settling in. The lower part of you knows exactly why.

His thick knuckles stroke the tattoo on your shoulder

His voice is a low rumble, through nearly-gritted teeth when he says, "found myself a bad girl."

He takes another puff, then sets the joint on an ashtray. He holds in the breath, takes your cheeks in his hands, his sad eyes searching your face hornily. You empty your lungs again. He seals his mouth with yours, sending a rush of blood to your loins. You accept the breath, sucking it out of his mouth, then close your mouth and turn away to exhale as your nipples harden. His face stays and hovers close to yours.

When you finish exhaling, you turn back and meet his gaze. His eyelids are heavy with lust. He looks at your lips, cradles the back of your head, and smashes his mouth into yours. His mustache tickles. His tongue invades your mouth and makes you throb. You back up a little and his body pushes yours down on your back, your head landing softly on your hoodie. His legs wedge between yours.

His clothed arousal presses right between your legs and his large hand maps your body as he buries his face in your neck. "Lets see how bad you can be," he growls into your ear before taking a gentle bite of your neck, then sucking hard. His hard-on swells even larger and harder against you and your hips automatically roll into him. Your legs wrap loosely around him all on their own. God, he's big.

You don’t know what’s come over you, but you’re dripping wet. It’s like a magnetic, masculine energy is radiating out of his pores, penetrating you. Locked in a basement with this total creep and you’re dizzy with desire.

He slides his arm under your neck and kisses you forcefully as he gropes your breasts and grinds into you. Then he shoves his hand down into your pants where you aren't wearing underwear. His thick fingers part your folds and glide against your slick. You hate yourself for it, but you've never been more turned on, and it shows.

When he feels how wet you are, he says “I’ll be damned. You want it that bad.”

He tugs down your joggers urgently, backing up on his knees to pull them and your shoes all the way off. Then he frees his cock and strokes himself, wetting his lips. Chest rising and falling as he eyes your naked cunt. Fuck, he has a nice cock.

He hovers over you again and one of your legs wraps loosely around him. Your back arches in anticipation. Your clit throbs. He breathes heavily and his cock prods your entrance. You moan softly. He teases you with the tip. Your body aches to be filled.

“All yours, baby, every inch.” His low voice obliterates anything that was left of your will to resist.

He pushes his swollen tip inside, and the stretch pushes a moan out of you.

“Yeah, go on. Take this cock.” He pushes further.

He grunts, "God, you're tight. C'mon now, you can do it.” Your hips tilt to receive more of him and he plunges the rest of his length into you with a loud grunt and shudder. His neck vein bulges and his eyes close. You gasp as he fills you up and you twitch around him.

“Yeah,” he pants, rocking into your clit while he's all the way inside. “Attagirl.” You already feel something building deep within you.

He retreats then plunges into you again with a grunt. The vein on his neck bulges more and his biceps flex as he hovers over you, fucking you slowly, then faster. “Yeah, that’s my bad girl.” Fuck, he feels good. Tension coils rapidly in your core.

He wraps a strong arm around you, lifts you up against him, and his cock stays inside you as he sits back on the couch so you’re in his lap straddling him. He expertly works your clit and his massive hands on your asscheeks move you on his cock as his hips move under you.

“God damn, you’re hot,” he says again as you roll your hips into him. “Yeah, ride this cock,” he says, thrusting up into you as his massive hands rove your body. He forcefully pulls down your tank top and sucks your tit, moaning into it. Your thighs tremble.

“Yeah, c’mon,” he says. “Come on this cock.”

The next time he bottoms out, your clit grinding into his pubic bone, softened by his hair — you do. Pleasure blooms from your clit, pulsing, washing over you, and your walls clench around him, wringing a guttural groan from his lungs.

His cock pulses enormously and your whole body jerks into him as your climax continues. He thrusts a few more times. Slow but emphatic, pulling you down on his cock as his balls empty inside you. You stay on top of him as your climax wanes.

Shit, that was dumb, you realize. But it felt really fucking good.

“Reckon I won’t need to lock ya in next time, huh?” he asks, stroking your hair. You swerve his hand, get dressed, and leave.

But the next night, you still find yourself walking by his house.

“Any time you wanna come,” he says. “You’re welcome."

Short Deleted Scene

Thank you for reading!!! your interaction is always appreciated too! 💐 this is a one shot but I'm having thots so you never know, LMK if you like him. I can kinda see him as a breeder, maybe.

Continuation by popular demand: night walks 2

#joel miller x reader #dark!joel miller #dark!joel #joel miller smut #joel miller #toxicanonymity ☠️#joel miller x you #pedro pascal #toxicnightwalks #night walks!joel #pervy!joel miller #pervy!joel #perv!joel miller #perv!joel #nightwalks☠️

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starshipsofstarlord · 8 months

Text

Modern!Nat Being Your Dealer

summary - natasha romanoff is your dealer, and you go to collect your order, however you seem to have forgotten something important… though there is another way that you can pay for your addiction (2.1k)

warnings - 18+ minors dni, smut, oral (female receiving), fingering, drug dealing, sex in place of payment, swearing

natasha romanoff works other mcu works masterlist

Everyone struggled in life, and once in a while they needed a little help. There were many ways people went about that, some people went to therapy, others enjoyed a good book, others listened to waves that had been recorded for that specific purpose. But none of those spectacles of aid made you feel any better.

And thus you had turned to substances instead of white noise, specifically one that was more common and less harmful - weed. A large majority of the population did it, and it was nothing to be ashamed about, it just made you unwind from the trauma that skulked in the darkest parts of your mind and coaxed you into a resting state of sleep.

Unbuckling your seat belt, you climbed out of your beat convertible, locking the vehicle behind yourself as you strode towards the locked hinges of your e of dealer's door. It felt suspenseful every time that you came here, knowing that it could be your last if your supplier was overturned by the forces for her illegal actions actions, and you wouldn't exactly be ignored pu so for purchasing from her.

But everything looked crisp and normal, just the way you liked it. Quickly as to not avert any attention you shot Natalia, the Russian importer a text letting her know that you had arrived to the destination where she handled business. It felt like a lifetime as you awaited for her to open the door and usher you inside, and once she unlocked the barricade of privacy you felt like you were hit by a brick.

It didn't matter how many times that you had seen the astoundingly attractive redhead, you always felt as though you were experiencing whiplash from being greeted with her appearance. It was an unruly kind of magnetism that she styled herself with, her lipstick was blurred subtly past the lines of her actual lips, her short bob was twisted with curls that she had no doubt patiently toyed with as she sat there, looming behind the frosted windows for her buyers.

And you were no more than another one of them, you had to remind yourself, even as slithered past her, both of your breasts briefly brushing as she allowed you entry before she followed your footsteps to the main room after bolting the door shut to as it had been. As usual you took a seat in the dusty and quaint living area as usual, her taking place opposite you as she disgustedly brushed specks off the fabric arm of the chair.

"I don't live here if that's what you're wondering." She smirked, making it undoubtedly clear that her tastes were too clean to permanently reside in a place like this. "So I'll take it you're picking up the usual?" It was the safe assumption on her part, there was no kindness in coaxing you to spend more on the grams of freedom that she rationed out for a price. Not to mention, with spare product there would no doubt be another soul that was prepared to take it off her hands.

"Yeah, please." A curt nod had the woman lounging her body to stretch so that she could pick up the complimentary medicine that she had self prescribed you for. The normal amount was visible through the small and clear baggy that carried the goods, and you immediately rushed to find the notes that would allow you to proceed in your pockets. But they were gone. Shit. This was the last thing that you needed after the day that you had endured with the whispers of thought that clouded your brain.

Panic settled over you, and thus with a dry mouth it was with wise decision that you chose to speak up. There was no point beating around the bush, after all this was your first slip up when it came to this, and you prayed to every ethereal being that it would be the last. "I seemed to have forgotten to put the cash in this jacket, would it be okay if i were to come by later to collect again?" It was embarrassing really, there was nothing that screamed being newer to the scene of all this mutual transaction than forgetting the payment.

"Trial and error one would say." Nat slouched back, dropping the bag mockingly in her lap so that you could see. "The problem is I'm not available for business later." So stupid, you thought to yourself, insulting yourself because she wouldn't for your blatant and misconducted dumb foolery. It certainly may have ben a mistake, but you were no doubt paying for it because you could not pay for what you had really wanted. With a gulp of apologetic waver of disregard, you stood on your two feet, eyeing the door as your escape.

You were just about to begin walking when the red headed conductor silenced all movement your body was ready to perform. "Uh, uh, uh." The noise of scolding that she proclaimed towards you made your heart beat a little faster, afraid that she was going to refuse future service to you altogether. However much you dreaded what she was going to say, you politely listened, intending to remain on her good side. "If you have time to spare, I don't mind being paid in other ways..."

"I'm sorry, I don't quite understand what you mean." Maybe it was plain obliviousness to Nat's ultimatum of a suggestion, or perhaps you didn't quite believe your body's instinct to the prowess in her eyes that made your spine coil in a retrograde of quivering arousal, but you avertedly decided to play it dumb. She stood, and strode towards you like a vixen, her wide eyes scorning every inch of your vessel, humming contentedly to herself.

"Don't be so naive little y/n," her tongue peeked out from her mouth, swiping languidly across her plump bottom lip. "You'll still be a respectable woman, you'll just have to respect me too... in an intimate way." Thinking to yourself, the hunger that ran through your veins which yearned for the intoxicating compulsion of the confident redhead was strivingly eager, and the addictive stock that sold, was endless.

"W-what did you have in m-mind?" You wanted some clarification before you drowned yourself in an action that could exempt you from her clientele, even if she had been explicit, only leaving the details of prolific actions out from her spoken equation. The thumping of your heart beat within your ears, running through your bloodstream that was declining from a subsidised high, as you ogled curiously at the the woman with priceless leverage.

"We all have things we want y/n," she admitted vaguely before going into detail, "and I, in exchange want you to give me an orgasm." Her hands rubbed soothingly up your arms, her skin surprisingly cold upon your flesh. She could sense your nervousness, it was openly apparent as you shivered for both her touch and the calming rush that would absorb itself into your form.

"Okay." You spoke meekly, withholding how eager you were to persevere provocatively towards the mysterious woman. A coy smile weaved its route upon her defining features, causing your walls to flutter obscenely below where they were dressed. You'd always thought that you would be above soliciting yourself in exchange for anything, but it proved to show that you could never be certain on an agenda until you came to the crossroads of it.

Your tongue poked outside of your mouth, nervously grooming the indents and crevices at the corner of your lips, preparing yourself for what Natasha was expecting. It made you realise how little you truly knew about the woman before you, the name that she had given you to address her by may have all been a hoax, to conceal her identity from any enforcers whom bought the stronger stuff from ratting her out to the feds.

But in the predicament that you had stumbled obliviously into, you needed to be nothing more than acquainted, it wasn't love, it was just business derived from the figments of pleasure, and whilst you were allured by the pros and cons that weighed argumentatively in your mind, you couldn't help but give this instance a block from your overthinking mindset. "I'm glad to hear," she conveyed, causing a deep laughter within her chest to be released as she noticed how tense that you had become.

She liked to see you squirm, she had decided. And perhaps next time you would forget payment again, of course she wouldn't mind if your skills were up to her standards of course, and if they weren't, she would unshackle the bedroom nerves that you were enduring with her own set of amorous control. The air hung thick between the both of you as she strolled casually back towards the seat that she had already claimed prior to your arrival, sitting down and spreading her clothed legs wide.

"Come here, and make me cum." Her instructions were far too persuasive, and you couldn't refrain from doing as you were told, willingly you fell to your denim clad jeans, watching intently as Nat unbuttoned her own trousers. "I don't even need to tell you what to do." She verbally observed, pushing down the layers covering her bottom half, including her lace designed panties. Her actions served you with the view of her core, and the sight made you salivate.

A part of you felt dirty, but you procured it in an encouraging way, as this was exactly how she wanted to see you. The position that you were in made warmth flush between your legs, even more so when her drug dealing hand swept into your hair, pulling your face closer to her cunt with the harsh grip that she had. You glanced up to watch her lust drowning eyes, before you entangled your lips with her lower ones, tasting her juices on your tongue.

You ran your tongue up her slit a few times, testing the waters before you suctioned your lips around your clit, sucking on the nerve filled bud, her body being devoured by heavenly sensations. "Fuck me." Her breath cast the words out as her emerald irises became obliterated by the bleakness of her pupils, and in a way you were, and to fuck her further into the pleasure that was flooding her veins, you raised your dominant hand, tracing your fingers around her slick entrance.

With integral driven lust, you pushed one of your digits inside of her, her hand weaving tighter within your locks, and forcing your face further into her cunt. You were amidst in an overwhelming sense of reality, as you hollowed your cheeks so that you could put more pressure around her clit. Her mouth gaped open as she leant sporadically in her seat, her hips bucking into your jawline as her legs wrapped around the back of your head.

Pumping your fingers at a quicker pace, you could feel her walls contracting around you tighter, and her moans evoking to a higher pitch. Her sounds echoed around the room that was in need of more furniture, and you knew that she was getting close, and so you continued on with your actions, daring to enter another finger inside of her, which made her reach her breaking point. Her lips floundered in a silent scream, as she came around the fingers that you had stuffed inside of her.

You continued slowly with drawing out her orgasm, before you pulled back and allowed breath to be inhaled through your mouth, removing your fingers so that you had the opportunity to lick them clean. After a few minutes passed, she unravelled her legs from how they had been pressed around your skull, deciding to sit up straighter, as she glowered at you, returning to her formal confirmation.

Silently she slid her underwear and bottoms back up her legs, leaving her fly open as she watched you stand before her, almost desperately. She was almost convinced to return the favour, but that wasn't what it was, instead it was payment, and she had the professionalism to an extent to make that clear. "Pleasure doing business with you again. Here's what you wanted." She threw the baggy at you, and surprisingly to yourself, you had caught the clear packaging that was filled with your goods.

In all honesty you had forgotten all about the weed, you had fallen into a spiral of delightful passion, and you could still taste her on your lips. Now it felt awkward, she was awaiting for your departure without a doubt as she expectedly nodded towards the door. "Uh, thanks." You fumbled with the bag, finding yourself to forget your money again, with purpose, the next time that you visited her to collect.

#natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff oneshot #nat x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x y/n #black widow x female reader

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impala-dreamer · 1 month

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You Only Want Me When You're High

A Story from The Boys Universe

~ As the newest and most useless recruit to The Boys, Y/N is tasked with keeping an eye on Soldier Boy while Butcher sorts things out. Annoyed to be given such a ridiculous job, she tries to keep the defrosted supe at arm’s length, but there’s something in the drugs and in his eyes that makes him hard to resist…~

Soldier Boy (Ben) x F!Reader, Hughie Campbell, Billy Butcher

5,426 Words

NSFW, Sexual Acts, Excessive Drug Use, Just NSFW all around…

“I’m going to put my clothes on before you say anything else” for @jacklesversebingo

JacklesBingo Masterlist ~ My Full Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

Sunlight illuminated a cloud of bluish-gray smoke and Ben took another hit. He breathed deeply, willing the drugs to seek out every cell in his preternaturally powerful body and corrupt them long enough to give him a little buzz.

It wasn’t easy. It would take enough drugs to kill a mortal for him to feel that sweet high, but excess was a word he wasn’t familiar with.

Eyes closed, he exhaled another stream of musky vapor into the rented room. He felt his brain shift to the left for a quick second as a faint bit of dizziness struck him. He grinned, leaned back against the headboard, and stretched his long legs over the hideous bedspread.

“There it is…”

Another hit boosted his mood and Soldier Boy sighed happily, momentarily at peace.

He cracked open an eye when the bathroom door opened.

He licked his lips when Y/N walked out with a dingy white towel wrapped tight around her damp body; her hair pinned up and safe from the shower.

He whistled when she crossed the room, heading for her duffle bag.

“Fuck off,” she snapped, rolling her eyes as his grew darker and more locked on her form.

Ben chuckled under his breath. “Hey, sweetheart, you can’t walk around naked like that and expect me not to get stiff.”

He shifted on the bed, tugging at his pants to accommodate the growing length against his thigh. She stared at his hand as it teased the shadow creasing the fabric, and swallowed hard. He was gorgeous but the price of a quick romp wasn’t worth the pain in the ass.

He winked.

She groaned. “Asshole.”

“Oh, come on-” Ben took a long pull on the blunt and held it in, voice tight on the inhale. He grabbed his cock. “You know you want some of this.”

“The weed yes…” She turned her back on him, grabbed the bag, and tugged open the noisy zipper. “Your dick… no.”

He scoffed. “You’re shit at lying, Y/N.”

Her cheeks burned but she tried to ignore him as she searched the bag for her clothes. “Am I?”

The wide tip of his pink tongue flashed over his lips and Ben sat up, focusing on her. “Sure are,” he replied, tracing her spine with his gaze. “You’ve been acting like you don’t want to get on your knees, but I know you’re hot as hell for me. You’d suck my dick in a second if I whipped it out right now, wouldn’t you?”

He watched the muscles in her back tighten as she struggled to hide the shiver that slid from head to toe.

“You’re a pig.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged and leaned back again, bringing the joint to his lips. “Don’t mean I’m not right.”

Y/N glared at him over her shoulder. “Butcher should have left you on ice.”

Ben grinned. “I’m still a little chilly,” he teased. “Why don’t you come warm me up?”

“In your dreams, Grandpa.”

He patted his thigh. “Come on, Sweet Cheeks, hop on up here and show me those perky tits.”

Arousal and anger swirled in her gut and Y/N grit her teeth. “Things don’t work like that anymore. You can’t just snap your fingers and have women swoon over you. This isn’t the ‘40s.” Her glare cut through him as sure as Homelander’s laser eyes could and his nostrils flared in annoyance. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to put my clothes on before you say anything else.”

She turned to head back to the bathroom, but he moved like lightning, blocking her path. She gasped when his big hand locked around her arm.

“What are you doing?” She twisted her hand to break free and the bundle of clothes fell to the floor. “Let me go.” Her voice was shaking but as firm as she could make it.

He laughed and tightened his fingers around her wrist. “Your pulse is racing.”

She looked up and sneered. “That’s because you’re annoying the crap out of me.”

“Or maybe, it’s because you want me to do this-”

Soldier Boy tugged her arm and she crashed against his firm chest. She inhaled quickly, sucking in the heat of him, the dark woody scent of his body, and the stink of the drugs. Her head clouded and he took advantage, pressing his lips to hers in a rough kiss. Unconsciously, she opened for him and his hot tongue snaked against hers. She couldn’t hide the way her heart pounded- he could hear it. She couldn’t conceal the flush of her skin- he could feel it. She couldn’t obscure the dampness between her legs- he could smell it.

When he let her go, Y/N stumbled back and shook her head to clear her vision.

Towering over her, Ben smirked proudly and licked her taste from his lips. “Told ya.”

Her palm cracked hard against his cheek and he cringed for her benefit.

“Fucking asshole!”

Staring up into his emerald eyes, she felt herself weaken but refused to give in. She hit him again.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!”

Another slap made a soft smile pluck the corner of his mouth and Y/N raged, giving into the rushing arousal that swarmed her thoughts and pushed away her common sense. She raised her hand again, but instead of a slap, she clawed at the nape of his neck and drew his lips down to hers, kissing him hard.

Ben sucked in a breath, shocked by her aggression. He hummed when she licked into his mouth; slipped his free hand down her sides when she bit his bottom lip. His fingertips dug into the meat of her hips and she pulled back, looking up into his freckled face.

The end of the joint smoldered between his fingers, crumbling to ash like a pillar of Pompei. Y/N wrapped her delicate hand around his wrist and brought his fingers up to her mouth.

Holding his gaze, she puckered her lips and sucked in a deep breath, pulling the drugs into her lungs. She shuddered and coughed, senses overtaken by the strength of the bud.

“Fuck…”

Ben bent down to take a final drag and the cherry died. He dropped the dregs and pulled her close, slowly exhaling the smoke through her parted lips.

She inhaled and her eyes rolled. Her balance skewed and she swayed against him.

“Now…” He cleared his throat and slid his hand against the back of her head, holding her there. “How about you get on your knees and show me what a good girl you are.”

Y/N laughed and shook her head. “I have a better idea.”

He cocked a brow. “Really?”

“Mhm…”

Taking a step back, Y/N released the knot in the towel and let it fall to her feet. Immediately, Ben reached for her, but Y/N caught his hand, shoving it away.

“I told you, things are different now.”

Reaching up, she dragged her fingertips down his cheek. He leaned into her touch, eyes fluttering slightly.

“It’s not just take, take, take anymore…”

Her hand moved slowly down his throat, tracing the thick muscle down to his shoulder.

“Sometimes, you gotta give.”

His forehead creased in confusion, and Y/N explained without words, pressing his shoulder down and urging him to his knees.

In awe of her suggestion and high as a kite, Ben slid to the floor and looked up with full-blown pupils and wet lips. As he watched, she ran her hands over her breasts, plucking each nipple until the flesh darkened. He swallowed hard. Her right hand dipped down between her thighs, carrying his gaze to her pussy. She spread her legs and rubbed gently, slicking her fingers with arousal.

He parted his lips, ready to shoot another one-liner her way, but Y/N silenced him quickly. She pushed her wet fingers into his mouth and rubbed her juices on his tongue.

His eyes closed and he moaned around her fingers. “Fuck…”

She spread her legs and grabbed a handful of his thick hair. “Time to give, Soldier Boy…”

Y/N forced his face into her cunt, but he needed little prodding. As soon as her flesh hit his face, he started to lick and her body arched back in mounting pleasure. She tugged at his hair as he sucked on her clit; bucked her hips against his mouth when he pressed two hot fingers into her.

He came up for air, sitting back on his heels and craning his neck looking up at her. His face glistened and his lips were swollen. He pressed his palm down over his cock and groaned.

“Wanna fuck you,” he breathed, roughly stroking himself through his sweats.

Y/N smiled devilishly and shook her head. “That’s so sweet,” she mocked, “but no.” Again, she grabbed his hair and yanked until he fell forward. “This is all you get.”

Ben sank into her pussy, driving her wild as lingering smoke faded around them.

He watched her through the car windows, staring as she walked down the street with Hughie by her side. They were arguing about something he couldn’t hear. Hughie’s lanky twig arms were waving in the wind as Y/N stood with her arms crossed and a hip popped in annoyance. Ben couldn’t give less of a shit what they were fighting about, he just wanted out of the damned car. He wanted to stretch his legs and wreak some havoc on that bleached blond, cape-wearing dickwad Homelander.

Instead, he crushed another pill in his strong hand and snorted it back, humming loudly as the jolt hit his brain. “Goddamn, that is good shit.”

Again, his eyes flew to Y/N and he licked his lips, remembering the sweet taste of her pussy and the noises she made while cumming on his tongue.

As if she could feel his eyes on her ass, Y/N suddenly turned and met his gaze. She shuddered a bit but didn’t look away, staring into his eyes from across the street.

Hughie waved a hand in front of her face, drawing her attention back.

“Hello! We’re not done here,” he snit; baby face screwed up in anger.

Y/N tilted her head and shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, Hughie. I’m not in charge of this shit. I’m just a babysitter.”

She looked at the car again and found Ben still admiring her form. He had his right arm on the window ledge and his forehead against the door. She couldn’t see his left hand, but she could imagine where it was as he pressed his tongue against his top teeth and dropped his eyes down her body.

Y/N sighed out a delicate moan.

Hughie gagged. “Are you serious?”

“What?”

He grabbed her arm, turning her back around. “Are you fucking him?”

Y/N startled and dropped her arms. “What? Who?”

Hughie’s face reddened. “Who? Soldier Boy!”

Shaking herself, Y/N cringed. “Ew. No! Why the fuck-”

“Well, you’re staring at him like he’s a fucking vibrator.”

Y/N laughed. “First off- that’s disgusting. Do not insult my vibrator like that. She’s one of my best friends.” She rolled her eyes. “Secondly, if I was gonna fuck anyone around here, it would not be that sexist junkie.” Hughie held his breath and stood up a little straighter. She laughed again. “Calm yourself,” she advised, turning away. “It wouldn’t be you either…”

Ben slowly rubbed his cock through his pants, eyes glued to her curves. He laughed when she threw her hands up, obviously annoyed with Hughie and his problems. The twig man cowered slightly and his face blushed hot red.

Soldier Boy laughed. “What a pussy.”

Three hours later, Y/N was half asleep in the front seat of the busted Lincoln, desperate to stay awake

Night had fallen as they waited in the woods, trapped in a car by her sharp-tongued, bearded leader Butcher. Y/N wanted to get into the fray and stab something, but she had been bound to Soldier Boy’s side, tasked with keeping him content and docile until needed.

She hated it.

He was humming to himself in the backseat, happily learning how to access porn on her smartphone. It had taken some time to get him to understand the mechanics of the swipe, but once he did, he was off like a racehorse, Googling the most depraved acts he could think of.

“Holy shit-”

Y/N rubbed her tired eyes and looked at him in the rearview mirror. His face was lit by the screen and his green eyes were wide; his plump lips stretched into an awed smile.

“What now? You find Hentaied yet?”

Ben looked up, confused, but immediately went back to his discovery. “No. What? No. There’s… well, there’s two girls… and one cup… and-”

“No! No. No.” Reaching into the backseat, Y/N grabbed the phone from his hands and quickly shut it down. “You’re not watching that crap on my phone.”

He laughed. “Crap.”

“Ew.” With a heavy sigh, she tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. “You’re gross.”

“It was on your phone.”

“Because you looked it up- I- It doesn’t matter. Just shut up. Please. My head hurts.”

Ben watched as she rubbed her temples gently. “Ya know… I have something that’ll cure your headache.”

Y/N glowered at him. “Don’t you dare take your dick out.”

“Not yet.” He chuckled and produced a prescription bottle, quickly popping the top. “This.”

She leaned over to look at the three white tablets as they tumbled into his palm. “What is it?”

He grinned. “My old friend Bennie.”

“Um… pass.”

“Oh, come on. You’ll feel better… it’ll… wake you up.” Ben winked and closed his fist, crushing the pills to powder. Unfurling his fingers, he offered the drugs again.

Y/N declined with a simple shake of her head.

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” With a loud snort and a flip of his long hair, the pills were gone, launched up into his brain like a rocket ship. “Fuck!” He shook himself and laid back, pupils wide and skin tingling.

Y/N couldn’t look away. He looked normal for once. The grumpy, disgusting aura was gone, replaced with a relaxed yet wired look that was more appealing by the moment.

She huffed.

He tapped a single tablet into his open hand.

She held his gaze and nodded.

“Good girl.”

The drugs flew up her nose and instantly shook her brain. A bolt of lightning struck her head and every part of her came alive. Her pulse rose, her skin prickled, her pussy throbbed. She felt elated and wild. She wanted to rip her clothes off and run through the trees, feel the earth beneath her bare feet, howl at the half-moon.

“Nice, right?”

Ben smirked and her attention shifted from the fantasy of a naked nature waltz to a dream of him.

Y/N bit her lip and reached over the seat to grab the collar of his shirt. The cotton rumpled in her tight fist and Ben fell forward, pulled by her lustful tug.

She kissed him.

He hummed and shifted closer.

She pushed her tongue between his soft lips.

He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, exposing her delicious neck.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he growled, pressing his lips to her pulse. “I wanna eat you alive.”

Y/N moaned and dipped her head to look into his eyes. The move pulled her hair harder and the pain spread like concupiscent fire through her system. “Maybe later,” she teased.

Her tongue shot out and lapped at his lips.

He sighed lustfully. “For now?”

Y/N bit down on his bottom lip and let it fall slowly from her teeth. His eyes rolled and she kissed his deeper.

“For now…” Her lips slid across his cheek and settled by his ear. “... I want you inside of me.”

Ben growled and grabbed her waist, easily lifting her over the seat and into his arms. She fell into him and went back to tasting his lips, moaning with every electric kiss, every twitch of his fingertips over her skin.

He snuck his hand beneath her shirt, pawed at her tits, and teased each nipple in turn.

She pushed down on his lap, shivering when she felt his erection poke through the layers of fabric between them.

“Please,” she moaned. “Please fuck me.”

Her hands fell down his big chest and Ben’s breath grew ragged and heavy. He kissed her one last time and then shoved her away. She gasped at his strength as she ended up on her back with her jeans tugged away. He moved with lightning speed, removing her panties and kicking away his clothes.

There was no hesitation when he was ready, no need to warm her up. Y/N was wet and tight, ready for him like she’d been edging herself for weeks.

The moment his cock pressed against her cunt, she was gone, clawing at his arms and letting out wild curses of pleasure.

He fucked her hard, pushing in deeper with every thrust. He watched her eyes roll and her muscles clench. He heard her heart struggle and the blood flow to her pussy. He knew her then inside and out and used every bit of his power to bring an orgasm crashing down upon her.

“Fuck!” She dug her nails into his shoulders while the pleasure wrecked her body. “My god!”

A cocky smirk played on his lips and Ben grabbed her hips. He lifted her like a doll as he settled back against the seat. Her legs spread around his trim hips and she instinctually sank on his cock, impaling her still throbbing pussy.

“Fuck, fuck!” She bit her lip and locked her tiny hands around his thick neck, holding on as she began to ride him.

The threat of her fingers on his pulse was enticing and Ben bucked his hips hard, fucking up into her as she struggled to stay upright. When she crumbled, he held her up, his big hand closing around the nape of her neck and keeping her spine straight. She was truly a ragdoll in his hands: a wet, hot, sexy toy for him to use.

Y/N shuddered with another orgasm and Ben let go as she tightened around his cock. With a rumbling growl, he came, shooting up into her with a powerful spray that she could almost feel going deep into her core.

Butcher had one foot out the door. He would have had both out and halfway down the motel hallway if not for Y/N’s hand fixed around his elbow.

Her fingers dug into the soft leather of his sleeve and he paused, looking down at her.

A strange mixture of anger and pathetic innocence filled her eyes and Butcher laughed.

“You’ll be fine, kid. He ain’t gonna bother you none.”

Y/N groaned. “Please. Just give me something else to do. I can’t stand it anymore. He’s such an asshole. He spent forty minutes this morning talking about Susan Summers and how good the ThighMaster was at tightening her pus-”

Butcher held up a hand, silencing her.

“I gotcha, but ya need ta realize I got a lotta balls in the air right now and I need that ball under lock and key.” He pointed behind her to the bathroom. The edges of the closed door were glowing as smoke and steam escaped, leaking an odorous marijuana and Old Spice vapor into the room. “And you, darlin’,” he continued, poking Y/N in the chest, “are the lock.”

She shook her head. “And where’s the fucking key so I can get out of here?”

Grinning, Butcher shoved her back a pace. He grabbed the door and stepped into the hall, pulling it behind him. “That’d be me.”

Her fist hit the door and her knuckles bruised instantly.

“God- fucking- damn it!”

One door closed and the other opened.

A naked Soldier Boy emerged from a dense fog of spiked steam like Jesus descending back to earth on a cloud.

Y/N caught herself staring at his dick and shook herself, turning quickly away.

“You can look,” Ben said, planting his bowed legs wide apart and setting his fists on his hips. “I don’t mind.”

She gagged dramatically. “No thanks.”

“Come on,” he urged proudly. “Take it all in. Bask in the glory!”

“You really are a tremendous piece of trash, aren’t you?”

With a shrug, he broke pose and went in search of pants.

“You didn’t seem to mind it last night,” he mused, bending over a bag of random clothing articles.

Y/N tried not to stare but his tanned skin was glistening with wetness from the shower and the muscles of his back were tight and twitching as he searched. Her eyes fell down his spine, lingered on his ass a moment, and then sank into the thick muscles of his legs. His thighs looked like tree trunks, his calves like branches she could entangle herself in and dangle forever.

“Yeah, well… I’m an idiot sometimes.”

Ben fished a pair of soft white boxers from the bag and turned, eyeing her as he toyed with the elastic hem, finding the front.

“Sometimes?”

She cleared her throat and narrowed her gaze, pushing every bit of annoyance into her stare. “Fuck off.”

Ben smirked and tugged on the shorts. “You know, you’d get a lot more attention if you were nicer. Smile more. Be respectful. Put some damned makeup on.”

Anger sizzled in her gut. “You didn’t seem to mind last night,” she echoed.

Pressing his tongue between his lips, Ben nodded. “Touché.”

Time passed slowly.

Y/N sat at the head of the bed, leaning on the headboard with a bottle of Jim Beam slowly emptying into her.

She stared at Ben despite herself, always looking away, arguing with herself, and then looking back, getting stuck on something about him. His hair was so perfectly long in all the right places, and somehow gorgeously always in place. His beard was thick but soft like he’d been grooming himself for the last forty years. His eyes cut right through her resolve anytime he looked at her. At times she wondered if he had x-ray vision or could see into her soul.

Still shirtless and refusing to get dressed, Ben paced the room. His bare feet dug into the thin carpet as he walked back and forth, seething with energy.

“Sit down already!” Y/N yelled. “You’re making me dizzy! You’re like a fucking pendulum going back and forth.”

Pausing by the door, he grit his teeth and glared. “Give me something to do, then.”

Y/N shrugged. “If we had anything to do, do you really think I’d be sitting here? With you?”

Giving up his worn route, Ben took a seat at the little round table in across from the bed and grabbed a wrapping paper.

“Why do you hate me so much? What’d I ever do to you? Kill your grandmother?”

“What? No.” Y/N scoffed. “I hate you because…”

Her thoughts trailed off when her eyes fell on his broad shoulders. They moved languidly as he rolled a giant spliff, muscles rippling under her gaze as if her world had switched to slow motion.

“Uh…”

He brought the joint up to his lips and Y/N gasped slightly when his tongue jutted out to wet the seam.

“You…”

Green eyes locked onto hers and Y/N felt her pussy throb.

“I, um…”

Ben chuckled to himself and twisted the ends of the paper tighter. He sat back in the chair and clicked the lighter Butcher had left him.

“You know what your real problem is?” he asked, letting the flame grow high before setting it to the end of his cigarette.

Her heart was pounding, her skin on fire for wanting him. “What’s that?”

“You only want me when you’re high.”

It was so absurdly true that she laughed out loud. Y/N shook her head and tipped the whiskey back, taking a deep drink. “You’re incredible, you know that? It’s like everyone has to love you but when they don’t, you make some shit up. Nuh-uh. You’re… shut up. I hate you.” She took another sip for good measure and huffed in his direction. “You suck.”

Ben licked his lip and took a drag. The exhaled smoke haloed his gorgeous face and Y/N hated every drop of booze in her system. They were all dragging her mind to nasty places that she’d rather not go.

“It is true,” he argued, blowing a smoke ring high about his head. “And I think you like it.”

She stiffened. “I do not.”

“I think you do.” Ben sat forward and pulled in another hit. The drugs flooded his brain and he smiled happily. A few moments of bliss before trauma struck again. “I think you need it.”

“Need what?”

She watched with building lust as Ben stood up and walked to the foot of the bed. With the fag balanced on his thick bottom lip, he crawled onto the mattress and moved towards her.

“You need the release,” he explained, hand over hand moving closer. “You need to be high so you can forgive yourself for wanting me.”

Her heart skipped when he reached her feet. He was right and she hated it. He was terrible and she loved it. He was right there and she wanted him.

“And honestly, toots- if that’s what you need, that’s fine with me.” Sitting back on his heels, Ben offered her the joint. “Go on. Smoke the guilt away.”

As if moving in a dream, she took the pot from him and pressed the wet end to her lips. He held her gaze as she inhaled, set his hand upon her ankle while she closed her eyes, and slid it higher when the smoke billowed around them.

“There’s a girl…”

Whiskey and cannibus swarmed her senses and Y/N ran a finger down the middle of his chest. He was smooth and firm and covered in constellations of pale freckles. She leaned forward as he bent down and her lips caught his left nipple. He hissed when she sucked hard.

“Damn…”

Y/N looked up innocently while dragging her hand down lower. It brushed against the base of his cock and he sucked in a quick breath.

“Another,” he urged, pushing the joint back up to her mouth. Her lips parted and she breathed deeply. “So fucking hot…”

Eyes fluttering and thoughts swimming, Y/N gave in and reached into his shorts. She fit her fingers into a tight circle and stroked down the length of his cock, waking him up fully and making his chest expand with heavy breaths.

“Fuck…”

She grinned when he cursed; drooled as his head fell back with a pleasured moan. “More?”

Ben dipped his chin and chewed at his lip, nodding. “Oh yeah.”

Another hit did her in and Y/N shifted onto her knees. She pressed up against him and licked at his lips before shoving the joint between them. Ben breathed deeply and the cloud rose around them as she kissed her way down his body. She opened her mouth and lay it over his erection, breathing out, hot and heavy. He shuddered and his ass clenched.

“Fucking hell…”

Feeling somewhat outside of herself, Y/N looked up with hungry eyes and hooked her fingers into his waistband. “Oh, just wait,” she whispered, tugging his shorts down to his knees. “It’s my turn to give…”

She licked at the tip of his cock and sucked a wet kiss over the groove underside. Falling fully onto her hands and knees, Y/N teased him with her lips, running her mouth up and down his shaft until he was bouncing on her tongue, fully engorged and leaking.

“We need to keep you stoned off your ass twenty-four-seven,” he mused, halfway between a moan and a whimper.

Y/N pulled back and gently rubbed his sack. “Why don’t you get more comfy?”

Ben cocked a brow and grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

He turned and fell onto the bed, taking up her old spot against the headboard. She fit perfectly between his knees and went right back to work, shoving her hot mouth down his cock. She gagged and he groaned. She slurped and he yanked at her hair. She swallowed and he pushed her face down as far as she could go.

“Now this- this is fucking fantastic.”

Ben took a deep drag and blew the smoke down into Y/N’s face. She inhaled and her eyes rolled back, deeply aroused and stupidly high.

She used her whole body to pleasure him. She scrapped her nails down his sensitive inner thighs, swirling her tongue over his sack, rubbed his cock between her tits. Her ass wiggled and her pussy dripped, throbbing and so close to cumming from simply sucking him off.

When she slowed, he bucked his hips. When she choked, he pushed her down further. When she shuddered with an unexpected orgasm, he egged her on with gravelly moans and curses that stunted her thoughts.

“Gonna drown you in cum, sweetheart,” he grunted, straining to hold still while she worked her magic.

Y/N hummed rapturously, daring him to do it, to murder her with his release.

Ben lay his hand flat on the back of her head and gently held her there. He was ready to explode and he wanted her to stay and swallow every single drop.

When the door opened, he was mildly surprised, but unwilling to stop. He jerked his hips up into her pliant mouth and Y/N squirmed between his legs.

“Holy fuck! Come on!” Hughie quickly shielded his eyes, but the damage was done. Y/N was sucking Soldier Boy’s dick like a porn star while the hero smirked like a moron.

“Hey! It’s Baby Hughie!” Ben tapped Y/N on the head, but she refused to stop. She was enjoying the slick slide of his cock over her tongue too much to give it up.

Hughie shook his head and turned away. “Y/N! What the fuck!”

Ben laughed before a tight groan worked its way through his chest. “Don’t get pissed at her,” he warned. “She’s a fucking expert cocksucker.”

Y/N swallowed hard and his thighs shook.

Hughie gagged visibly. “I’m gonna- this is- gross.”

Taking one last hit of the dying joint, Ben narrowed his gaze on the lanky man shadowing the doorway. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said honestly. “Did you wanna get down on this?” He held out his hand, offering both the drugs and Y/N’s ass.

Shocked, Hughie shook his head. “What? No!” His cheeks burned bright pink and Ben laughed.

“Come on, ya pussy. I’m sure she won’t mind…”

Y/N voiced her opinion with a harsh scrape of teeth down his cock.

Ben hissed at the pain and shrugged at Hughie. “Sorry. It appears she does mind.”

Taking a deep breath, Y/N pushed her face into the soft patch of hair around his pelvis and Ben lost his mind. He gripped her hair tight and pulsed his hips in quick, short thrusts.

Hughie gawked at the scene and then struggled to leave. He spun in place and grabbed the doorknob, unable to turn it and escape with quaking hands and blurry eyes.

Y/N could feel Ben’s need throbbing on her tongue and she pulled back for a second to scold her friend.

“Get out already!” she shouted, shooing Hughie off with a wave of her spit-soaked hand.

Ben called her back, grabbing her cheeks in one big hand and pinching her lips into a tight circle. “Oh, he’s leaving,” he told her, guiding her mouth back to his throbbing cock. “Or he’s gonna see some things he can’t forget.”

Hughie slammed the door behind him and braced himself against the wall. His head fell back with a thud and he struggled to wipe the memory clear. He didn’t care that Y/N had lied about fucking Soldier Boy, but seeing her blitzed and working his cock was more than Hughie could take. An old “Say No To Drugs” poster from grade school flashed through his thoughts and he cringed.

When Ben’s orgasmic roar flooded out into the hallway, Hughie booked it, strangely looking forward to spending the night alone in the car.

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fanfiction #jacklesversebingo23 #soldier boy x y/n

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