#'removal' seems too light a word for what happened

[nicole-timey-wimey-stuff]

Pretty little letters 2

Dbf Negan x fem reader

Synopsis - After finishing college you decide to on a gap year to take a breather after many years of hard. Setting out to travel the country, you promise to write to your dad every week, what happens when his best friend Negan makes you promise to write to him too.

Warnings- No apocalypse AU, dads best friend, large age gap, feelings, love confessions, adventures, reader travelling, reader described as female, mentions of cheating, Negan is the one cheated on in this fic by ex wife, struggles with feelings, dad finding out about relationship, some angst, obviously not canon at all, smut in this chapter, p in v, unprotected sex, both reader and Negan are consent king and queen. So yeah 18+ only please.

Let me know if I’ve left anything out

Word count - 6.1K (sorry another long one)

This is two of two chapters in this mini series.

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Waking up the next morning was a task in itself, your head was pounding, and the light filtering in from the cheap motel curtains was making things worse. You looked over at the wall clock 9:00am, pulling yourself up with a groan you headed for the shower, once in you began lathering yourself with soap to remove the stale alcohol smell. God last night was a blur, a few flashbacks start filling your mind, you remember sitting with a few women who invited you to their booth for some drinks, and you remember leaving before they dragged you onto the dance floor.

As the warm water spray roused you more you remember staggering home and passing out, ‘could have been way worse’ you think to yourself. After brushing your teeth and packing up your room, you grab your phone and car keys and make your way into town to find somewhere to eat. Maybe a good breakfast will help, although luckily your head hurts more than you felt nauseous.

Walking into a cute little diner you sit down and ask the waitress for pancakes, whilst waiting for your breakfast you pulled out your notebook and pen, deciding it was the perfect time to write your letters, it’s been a while since you’d written properly to your dad, and after your conversation with him last night you felt guilty. Thinking back on the phone calls of last night though your stomach drops, Negan and his date, argh! Surely he won’t go? He really didn’t seem that keen on it, you needed to put it out of your mind today, just be in the moment of the day! So you write your dad a little letter explaining where your off to next, before moving on to Negan's.

Hey Negan,

I’m currently sat in a cute little 50s style diner, I’m hoping breakfast cures this hangover a bit.

Maybe I had a little too much fun last night, though sitting with the middle aged women having a girls night seemed to be the right call, as I made it back to my room in one piece!

I’m going to head through New Mexico today on my way to LA, planing some stops on the way though. Going to stop in Arizona and see the Grand Canyon, I’ve always wanted to see it, maybe visit my best friend Gemma who lives in Tucson now, her and her husband have recently bought a puppy so I’m gonna be right in there!!

I hope you and dad are doing well this week, I miss you both a lot today, and please make sure dad doesn’t burn the garden shed down with his BBQ this weekend!

With love

Y/N

Xxx

On your way back to the car, you post the letters in the postal box on the sidewalk. The warm breeze kisses your skin as you walk, leaving goosebumps in its wake, it’s a beautiful day and you take pleasure in the little things that morning. Birds chirping, children laughing in the streets, a man who is dancing down the road with his headphones blaring out classic rock, not a care in his mind as to who may be watching.

Once back in your car you set your sat nav for a small town in the Gila National Forest, New Mexico and hit start, you’ll see how far you can get in a day, as you’re excited to get to Arizona. Whilst turning up your music you hear your phone buzz, ‘I’ll get that later you think’ eager to get going this morning, you have a long drive ahead of you.

_______________________________________

The flight had been awful, he was squished between a screaming child and a sweaty bald man, who felt it appropriate to tell Negan his life story. So once he had stepped through customs he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, good god he thought that was hell, but at least he will be with you in just shy of an hour, checking his watch he checked the time 8:30am he had time.

Once he secured a taxi he gave the man the motels address and counted the minutes down, he couldn’t wait to pull you into his arms and tell you he felt the same, that there’s no way he’s going to go on this date, that the only women he wants is you. Checking his watch again 9:35am and only 10 minutes until he’s at the motel, he ran over in his mind again everything he needed to tell you, he hasn’t ever declared love to someone before and he wants it to be perfect. He runs a hand through his salt and pepper hair, he’s so nervous and he doesn’t know why? It’s you! He’s never been nervous around you.

“Here we are sir, Eunice south motel”, “Thank you” Negan answers, handing the man his money before grabbing his bags out the trunk, once the cab had left he made his way over to the reception, entering he found a young lad at the desk, he must have been 19 at the very oldest. “Hello sir, welcome to Eunice south motel, are you checking in?” He reads it out like a scripted monologue that’s ingrained into his brain. “Hello there, I’m wandering if you can help me, see I’m looking for a young woman, she checked in yesterday. She’s called y/n y/l/n, she is about this tall ‘Gestures with hand’ and she has h/c hair.” Negan asks.

“Oh yes! I do know who you mean, she was in room 27” the boy answers.

“What do you mean was?” Negan asks.

“Yeah well she checked out this morning, about 20 minutes ago actually, you just missed her” the boy nervously answers again.

Panic sets it, your gone how can you be gone already!

“Did she say where she was going at all?” Negan asks.

“Said something about finding some breakfast in town”

“Ok thanks” Negan responds before rushing out and calling another cab, hoping he can find you before you drive off. He tries calling your phone but it goes straight to voicemail. “Shit!” He mutters before deciding it was quicker to jog into town than wait for the cab to arrive. Hauling his backpack and duffle on to his shoulders he starts a steady jog into town.

Once he arrives he notices a 50s diner, that would be the exact kind of place you would go he thinks. Upon entering he asks the waitress if she has seen you, “Yes I’ve seen a girl matching that description, how do I know you’re not a pervert chasing her though hmm?” The waitress sneered, reluctantly Negan fished his phone out of his pocket, showing the waitress his Lock Screen, it was a photo of you and him, his arm looped around your shoulders pulling you in close, big grins on both your faces.

Negan was loosing time and patience, “Please have you seen her?” He asks once more. “Yeah I saw her she left about ten minutes ago, she left this accidentally” the waitress mentions, handing him your debit card. “Shit” he mumbles again, “She isn’t going to get far without that” he sighs. “Ok thank you I’ll see if I can track her down” he says as he leaves, your card in hand.

_______________________________________

You’re singing along without a care in the world, your phone is still buzzing in your pocket. You will check it once you stop for gas, you’d need to stop soon looking at the dash it’s saying there’s only 80 miles left.

Spotting one ahead you pull in, pulling out your purse when you notice it, your card is gone “Fuck!” You call out to no one. Luckily you noticed before you put gas in, pulling out your phone you notice you have 5 missed calls from Negan, that’s odd he doesn’t usually call that many times knowing you’re busy. You’ll have to call him back later you have bigger things to deal with right now, walking into the shop part you ask if they take Apple Pay, to which they state no. Groaning you go back out to your car, pulling it forward and out of the way of the pumps.

What are you going to do now?

You call your dad but he doesn’t answer, probably busy with work, you could call Negan back see what he could do, but he’s the other side of the country, there’s no way he could help. Sighing you close your eyes and groan, did you even have enough fuel to go back to the diner, that must be where you left it. But it’s 100 miles back and you only have 80 at a push! Checking google, there’s a town with your bank in ahead you could get a new card issued, that’s only 70 miles away, cutting it close but it’s the best option you had.

Searching your glove box for your phone charger you came across a scrunched up ball, pulling it out you found it was a $20 dollar bill and a $10 dollar bill. “Yes!” You cheer, that can definitely get enough gas to get me to the next town, once your car was filled as much as you could afford you set off once more.

Little did you know Negan was frantically trying to catch you up, now in another cab following the route that he was praying you took.

_______________________________________

You’d had success at the bank, another card would be ready for you to collect in the morning. They had also given you a cash withdrawal to pay for your motel tonight, all in all things weren’t too bad. You'd found a nice motel close by making it easy to walk over first thing, so with everything sorted you settled in your room for the evening.

Maybe you could find somewhere for dinner? You weren’t all that hungry though, you’d had a hell of a day and really you just wanted to rest. You’d spoken to your dad and assured him you’d sorted it, when he said he would leave now and come get you, you’d had to laugh though, he’d do anything to have you back earlier.

Laying yourself back on the beds itchy covers, you close your eyes, a nap may do you good.

Meanwhile Negan was going out of his mind, where were you! The cab driver was loosing his patience too, telling him to pick a motel and call someone else in the morning. He was just about to give up hope when he spotted your car in a motel carpark. “Stop! There! That’s her car!” He shouted, tears now filling his eyes from sheer relief! “Thank god for that” the cab driver muttered, Negan grabbed his bags with urgency, paid the driver and shot over to your car. That was definitely your number plate! He looked into the room behind the car, there you were, asleep on the bed safe and sound.

He gathered up all his courage before knocking on your door.

You shot up from the loud knock, it was heavy and urgent. You slowly shuffled to the door, as quietly as you could muster and peaked through the peep hole. Negan??? It was Negan, you grabbed the handle and swung the door open.

There he stood right in your doorway, with a face you couldn’t quite read, you usher him in closing the door “Negan what are you doing here? Not that it’s not good to see you! This is the best surprise ever! It’s just I’m confused why are you……..” your rambling was cut off by him flying forwards and smushing his lips against yours in a searing kiss, his hands found your cheeks as he pulled your body into his, after recovering from the shock, you threw your arms around his neck pulling him in even closer.

“I love you” kiss “So much” kiss “So Fucking Damn Much!” He punctuates between fierce kisses, you’re now struggling to stand upright, your legs buckling as so much emotion fills you, this is everything you’ve ever wanted. “I love you too Negan, so so much” you mumble against his swollen lips. He smiles against your mouth “I know, I got your text” you're confused now “My text?” You ask, “The one you sent me last night before you fell asleep” he mentions, now staring down at your beautiful face, memories start flooding back! You did text him, you told him not to go on the date and that you loved him.

Gasping your hand flies to your mouth, “Oh my goodness” you shake your head in embarrassment. “You were drunk weren’t you” he laughs, “Yeah a bit” you mumble still feeling incredibly flushed. “Hey” he moves your chin up to face him, “Don’t be embarrassed, I feel the same about you doll, I flew here! Chased you down in the back of a cab until I found you, god I sound like a stalker now don’t I?” He laughs, “No” you shake your head in disagreement, “I think it’s incredibly romantic, I’m so happy you found me!”, “Me too beautiful, me too” he agrees placing is forehead against yours.

“Oh I almost forgot! You left this at the diner” he mentions, handing you your debit card. “Oh ” you giggle, “I have already cancelled and replaced it, I’m collecting the new one in the morning.” You explain. “Hmm well maybe look after that one better” he laughs, you nod in agreement, before bringing your lips back to his in another passionate kiss.

Pulling him against you, you run your hands through his hair, slightly tugging the strands causing him to let out a low moan. Smirking at his reaction you do it again, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth in tandem. “Careful sweetheart, you’re going to start something you can’t finish” he groans, “Who says I don’t have every intention in finishing it!” You tease. He growls picking you up and throwing you onto the bed, before crawling over you and attaching his lips to yours once more.

You slowly start running your hand under his shirt exploring the planes of his toned chest, you can feel his heart thump under your fingertips, the rhythmic drumming grounding you, he is really here, this is really happening. “I love you” you blurt out once again, he smiles against your throat, “I love you too beautiful”. Moving your hand back down you tug at the hem of his shirt, “Are you sure sweetheart?” He asks, watching your features for any hesitation, “I’m sure Negan, you’re all I’ve ever wanted” you admit.

“Ok baby girl” he offers, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before shuffling back to stand up. He smiles down at you as he pulls his shirt off, you sit upright tugging your sleep shirt over your head leaving your top half bare, before bringing yourself onto your knees. “You’re so gorgeous sweetheart” he admires as his eyes run over the exposed parts of your body.

You run both hands over his chest again, the look of love and admiration on his face as he watches you, brings up a mix of strong emotions. You’ve never felt so loved or so wanted in your life, the few college boys you’d been with before never took their time like this, they never made you feel this special and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

Cupping your face in his large hands he pulls you in for another slow kiss, sweeping his tongue against your lips seeking entrance, which you grant happily, deepening the kiss. You move your hands downwards, fingers playing with his belt buckle, hesitating you break the kiss and look up at him, meeting his warm hazel eyes.

“Go on baby, I’m all yours” he whispers, that was all the confirmation you needed, you make quick work of his belt and jean buttons, before pulling them down his legs, he steps out of the offending material kicking it to the side. You lay back against the sheets lifting your hips, encouraging him to do the same to you. His fingers hook under your sleep shorts and panties before pulling them both off in one swoop, leaving you completely naked.

Kneeling at the foot of the bed he tugs sharply on your ankles, pulling them up and over his shoulders, bringing your soaked heat to his face. “This ok baby girl?” He asks, “Yes!” You reply pleadingly, lifting your hips a little as you speak, feeling like if he didn’t touch you soon you’d combust. “So needy baby” he teases, running his forefinger through your slit.

He groans when he feels just how wet you already are, “Shit baby, this all for me?” You whimper nodding frantically, “Negan please” you beg, becoming needier by the minute. He gives your inner thigh a playful nip before licking a firm stroke through your folds, you throw your head back with a breathy moan, fingers finding purchase in his hair.

He sets a steady pace, alternating between licking and suckling at your clit. He quickly learns what you like, as he starts working you open with his fingers, angling them upwards and reaching that spot that makes you see stars. “Fuck Negan I’m gonna come” you cry, reaching your peak fast. He works you through your high before pulling away and placing a gentle kiss to your hip bone.

As your catching your breath he pulls his boxers off and rejoins you on the bed, once more hovering over you. “Still sure baby?” He asks again, letting some self doubt fill his mind, he’s still unsure as to how someone as beautiful, young and brilliant as you, would want an old man like himself. “Yes, I told you, you’re all I’ve ever wanted Negan, please I want you” you answer, rolling your hips into his seeking that friction you so desperately needed. “Fuck baby girl, ok” he moans, taking himself in his hand he rubs the blunt end of his cock through your folds, before notching it at your entrance and sinking forward.

As your hips meet flush against one another you both let out deep moans, getting lost in the feeling of each other. “Shit baby you feel so good” he groans, “God I’ve thought about this for so long, I’ve needed you so much, can’t believe you’re now mine” he rambles, slowly thrusting in and out of your tight heat. “Fuck baby girl say it! Tell me you’re mine!” He begs, “I’m all yours Negan, fuck I’ve always been yours” you cry as you start meeting his thrusts.

The room is filled with the sounds of soft moans and broken gasps, you grab his shoulders pulling him in as close as you can, “Faster! Please go faster” you plead, moving your hips harder against his, he indulges you picking up speed, his movements becoming more frantic. “So close, don’t stop” you whine as the familiar feeling in your core builds, Negan moves his hand between your bodies rubbing your clit, causing your whines to grow louder, “That’s it baby girl let go for me” he encourages you, throwing your head back you give in to it coming hard, white hot pleasure cursing through you.

“Fuck! There you go baby, shit I’m close where do you want it” he asks, “Inside” you gasp another orgasm building, “I want it inside me” you affirm. His thrusts become rougher, rhythm becoming sloppy as he reaches his high stilling against you as he comes. You reach your high simultaneously, grasping onto him for dear life as you repeat his name like a mantra.

When your heart rates steady and the fog clears he looks down at you, removing a sweaty lock from your face, “you’re going to be the death of me, you know that baby girl?” You grin up at him, “Yeah but what a way to go huh?” You reply, he huffs out a laugh, “Yeah” he agrees, nuzzling in against your throat, “Let’s get cleaned up yeah?” He asks, “Yeah ok”.

Cuddled up in bed, drifting off in each others arms your heart felt so full. “I love you” you whisper before falling into a dreamless sleep.

_______________________________________

The next morning starts in a rather frantic rush, it was amazing to wake up beside the man you love, but you had a lot to get through. You’d managed though to go to the bank, collect your new card, grab breakfast together and pack up your room in just over an hour, leaving you feeling quite accomplished.

Walking out from your now vacant motel room Negan asks “So baby are you driving or am I?” You grin at him teasingly, “Oh you most certainly can drive! I want to relax. I’ve loved every minute of this trip, but it’s been heavy going” you admit. “You’ve got it sweet cheeks, today you can be my passenger princess” he proposes. You giggle at his comment as you enter the car, “So where too baby girl?” He asks, “Well I was heading towards Tucson to see Gemma and her new puppy” you mention, “Ok we will make our way there then, did you want to get it up on the sat nav?” He suggests. “But will you really want to come with me to see her?” You ask nerves settling in.

“Of course I do baby, I want to meet your friends, if you don’t want me to come with you, I can drop you off and collect you later?” He offered, “No I’d like to bring you with me, I guess I just got into my head” you sigh, “Hey sweetheart look at me” he says lifting your chin up to meet his gaze, “I am in this for the long haul baby, I don’t throw I love you around pointlessly, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you beautiful. So that means meeting your friends, your family and we do need to tell your dad.” He explains.

Your face falls at the mention of telling your dad, you would need to tell him, you couldn’t start a life with Negan and not tell your dad, and you knew Negan wouldn’t want to keep anything from him. The thought though terrified you, what if your dad can’t except it? What if he hits Negan?, shouts at you both? Refuses to talk to you? Fear sinks in your gut as you think of all the consequences.

“Hey darlin’ let’s not worry about it right now, but in the next week we need to tell him, yeah it may not go as well as we hope, but I can’t live without you, so we will have to make him see won’t we?” He asks, and he’s right, you cannot live without him either! You want the whole lot with Negan, a home together, marriage, maybe a dog? “Yeah ok your right we do need to tell him, just not today. Let us just live in this bubble another day?” You ask, “Yeah ok sweetheart” he smiles, before putting the car into drive and heading out to the highway.

_______________________________________

You’d reached Tucson by 2pm and after giving Gemma a quick call from an hour out, she’d told you she was home and excited to see you. Pulling up outside the address she gave you, your nerves were replaced by excitement of seeing your best friend again. As you got out of the car her front door was thrown open as she bolted out to meet you! “Y/N!!! Oh my god it’s so good to see you!” She gushes throwing her arms around you in a fierce hug, one you returned effortlessly. “I know!! It’s been too long! How are you? And where is this cute puppy I’ve heard so much about?” You ask excitedly.

“Oh he’s inside with Alex!! Gosh, I haven’t seen you since my wedding day home in Virgina! How’s your dad? Oh and your Nan? Are they well? We have so much to catch up on!!!” She rambles out without so much as a breath. You laugh at her antics, “Dad and Nan are both well yeah” you return. She looks up from you then and clocks Negan behind you, “And who is this?” She asks teasingly, grinning like a Cheshire Cat! You step back grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers together, “This is Negan” you answer, recognition flashes on her face, “As in the Negan? Your dads best friend? The one you’ve been in love with for years?” She whispers into your ear, he hears though, laughing at her very loud whisper.

“That would be me, but I’m lucky enough to be her partner now” Negan replies, you smile at him and then back at Gemma “Sooo puppy?” You ask again, Gemma giggles “I swear you’re more excited to meet the dog than see me!!” She laughs, “Well yeah?” You offer smiling.

The afternoon was great, you and Gemma sit on her kitchen floor playing with the puppy, while Alex and Negan talk about guy stuff and you can’t help but smile at how easily he gets on with everyone around him, despite being a couple of decades older than you all. It all feels so effortless, and you can’t help but feel excited for your future together.

Once alone Gemma asks you “So you haven’t told your dad yet?”, “No not yet, it’s only been a couple of days that it’s been official you know? I wanted to live in this happy bubble before my dad bursts it. I know he won’t be happy” you sigh, “Well if you two were this obvious before, then I think he already knows, or is at least waiting for it to happen.” She offers, “What do you mean?” You ask confused. “Y/N, you look at each other like the other hung the moon in the sky, you are obviously very much in love, and that didn’t happen over night. I’m telling you he knows something, your dad isn’t a stupid man. I think he’d be more upset if you kept it from him now it’s happened, than the actual happening of it, if that makes sense babe?” She asks.

“Yeah, it does. I just worry because I can’t loose him you know?” You sigh, “I know and you won’t, you’re an adult remember? He can’t stop you both being together” she offers giving you a playful nudge, you nod at her giving a small smile. You are still worried though about how this will all go. Just then the men walk back into the room breaking your train of thought, “You’ll both stay for dinner yeah?” Alex offers, “Yeah that would be lovely thank you” you smile.

The journey to the motel that night was quiet, you were deep in thought and Negan didn’t want to pry and make you uncomfortable, he ran a gentle, comforting hand over your thigh. “We need to tell him” you blurt out, “My dad I mean, we need to tell him, Gemma is right, he’d be more upset about us not telling him than anything else” you offer, he gives a deep sigh glancing at you “Yeah I think she’s right too, when did you want to do it baby?” He asks.

“Tonight” you declare, “The longer we leave it the worse it will be” you decide. “Ok baby girl.” He agrees. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t shitting it, but it needed to happen, he couldn’t have a life with you in secret.

_______________________________________

It’s been an hour now, an hour you’ve been sat in the motel room. Well Negan is sat, watching you from his spot on the bed, as you pace back and forth the room clutching your phone. “Sweetheart, just call him it will be ok, I’m right here.” He comforts, grasping your hand as you try and pace past him again.

“Ok ok” you give a deep sigh before calling your dads cell phone. “Hey kiddo! It’s been a couple of days, everything ok?” You dad asks, “Yeah dad I’m fine, actually I’m really good. I’m in Tucson I’ve just got back from seeing Gemma” you mention, “Oh that’s great honey, how is she it’s been a year since her wedding!” Your dad answers, “Yeah she’s good, her and Alex have a new puppy, he’s super cute” you say, “Aww that’s good, you spent the day playing with him then?” He asks, “Yeah that, and just catching up you know?” You reply, “Yes I know well how you two get when you are catching up” he laughs.

“So I have something I need to tell you” you say biting your nails nervously, “Ok kiddo? You ok?” He asks, “Yeah like I said I’m really good ummm, Negan’s here with me” you say, “Negan is with you? What as in right now?” Your dad asks and you can hear the confusion in his voice, “Yeah as in right now, here in my motel room with me” you say nervously, “Hey Mike” Negan speaks up, confirming he was in fact with you.

“Negan’s with you in Tucson? In your motel room with you? Why is he there with you? How is he there, he was here just a couple of days ago.” Your dad asks his voice becoming more frustrated while he tries to put together what is going on. “Yeah he flew out to me a couple of nights ago dad” you respond, you know you are beating around the bush, buying time but the anxiety is overfilling now.

“Put him on the phone Y/N!” Your dad demands, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea dad, just talk to me” you deflect, but Negan hands out his hand for your phone, reluctantly you hand it over to him. “Hey Mike it’s me” Negan answers, “Do you want to tell me why you are in a motel room in Arizona with my daughter Negan, because I am really struggling to understand this.” Your dad asks angrily, “Well it’s a long story, but in short she admitted her feelings to me so I flew to her to tell her I felt the same way” Negan answered, trying to keep as calm as possible.

“Feelings? What feelings Negan?” He was definitely confused, his mind not quite catching up with everything, or wanting to ignore what he already knows. “I love your daughter Mike, I have for a very long time, and I think deep down you’ve known this a while too” Negan replies, “Well I knew you two were close, and I had suspicions, but I never really put much thought into it. She’s young enough to be your daughter Negan!” Your dad shouts, “I know that, I know the age gap isn’t ideal Mike but I love your daughter very much. This isn’t some fling I want to assure you of that, I’ve never felt this way before. I want a life with your daughter, a home together, the whole nine yards.” Negan explains calmly hoping to make your dad understand.

“I’m going to need some time to come to terms with this….. I need to go” beeep, the phone line goes dead and you look down at Negan worriedly. “Come here baby girl, it’s going to be ok, he’ll come around” he says pulling you into his arms. “He just needs some time, we did the right thing not keeping it from him” he continues, kissing the side of your head.

Later that night while Negan is softly snoring behind you, you lay awake worrying. Your phone buzzing tears you from your thoughts, it’s a message from your dad.

Hey kiddo

I have to know how long has this been going on really? Xx

Hey dad

We were being honest, it’s been just over 24 hours, we couldn’t keep it from you. Although we hid our feelings from each other for years this is very new. I love him too though Daddy, I can’t live without him now, and you know he’s a good man, he won’t hurt me. I don’t expect you to understand it, I just hope you can come to except it.

Xx

Hey kiddo

Thank you for telling me from the start, I’m glad you don’t ever keep things from me. And I can appreciate how hard that was to do, I need some time ok? But I love you that will never change ok? Xx

Ok dad, love you too xx

_______________________________________

You both spent another two weeks travelling, you saw the Grand Canyon and it literally blew you away, but that niggling feeling in your heart kept twinging “We need to head home Negan, I need to see him and fix this, I haven’t heard from him in weeks” you say, “Ok sweetheart, let’s go home” he agreed, he hated seeing you so churned up.

Arriving back in Connecticut felt weird, seeing the familiar streets pass by in a blur, as you head to your home street. Pulling up in your drive you notice your dads truck is there, signalling he was home. Negan gives your leg a gentle squeeze “Come on baby, let’s sort this out yeah?” He asks, “Yeah” you sigh exiting the car.

Entering your house you take in its familiarity, you let that in itself comfort you. Taking Negan’s hand in yours you make your way through to the kitchen, you notice your dad in the garden mowing the lawn, no wonder he hasn’t come greet you.

You tap loudly on the window causing him to snap his head up, emotion filling his features when he sees it’s you. He kicks off the mower and rushes inside, you let go of Negan’s hand and throw your arms around your dad. “What are you doing home kiddo? Not that I’m not happy to have you home! It’s just your not due back for months” he asks, “I couldn’t be away with everything up in the air dad, I had to come home and see you.” You admit.

Your dad looks over your shoulder at Negan and then back at you before giving you a small nod, “Yeah ok let’s sort this” he sighs motioning for everyone to head into your living room.

“So I’ve had some time to think it through, and I guess I did always notice something between you both. I guess I just hoped I was wrong” your dad starts, his confession causing Negan to wince, “But you are both my favourite people on this god forsaken Earth, and I do want you to both be happy. So I will except it, but I can’t say I understand it” he offers.

You go to speak but your dad cuts you off “I also know that you won’t listen to anything I say y/n so there’s no point going there. It’s not like I can stop two adults from being together. But if you ever hurt her Negan I swear to god” he threatens, “Absolutely man, I’d expect no less” Negan agrees. “Ok then, come here kiddo” he offers pulling you into another hug. Then he turns to Negan shakes his hand and gives him an awkward side hug, “I’m trusting you ok buddy, with the most important thing in my life, you understand that?” Your dad asks, “Yeah I know, I can promise you I will love and cherish her for every day I have left” Negan affirms.

Your dad gives him a nod, “Ok then guys it’s Friday night, so pizza and a board game?” Your dad offers, “Sounds perfect dad” you smile, snuggling into Negan on the sofa,

Just like that everything was right again, you were home with your boys eating pizza and fighting over monopoly, everything was as it should be.

Taglist

@lanadelnegan @lunajay33 @akah565

#Dbf Negan x reader #negan x you #negan smut #negan x reader #negan smith #negan fanfiction #twd negan #the walking dead negan #negan imagine #dbf x reader #dads best friend

[captain-kraken]

4 and 45 for the ship ask game for oc/s of your choice

Thanks for the ask!!

4. Who initiates affection? Why does the other not initiate affection as much?

Mostly Kaz. Physical affection is his main love language and it really impacts his mental health if he goes too long without it. Eli is just unbothered by it. They don't not like it but they don't crave it the way Kaz does (most of the time).

-

45. How do they support each other? How do they rely on each others support?

Since the "incident" (as they call the failed banishment) Kaz is basically trapped in the form he had taken at the time, which was a human. He can't shapeshift away from this anymore and this means he's lost a lot of his powers, including his durability. Eli has to protect him from getting hurt and look after him when he does get hurt (which is often).

Kaz also has BIG feelings and Eli gives him a lot of emotional support, as well as plenty of hugs.

On the other hand, Eli literally forgets to take care of themself because they spent so long not needing to before they were fired. Kaz makes sure that Eli is getting enough food and sleep, and that they're not pushing themself too hard.

They also rely on each when they're working, because exorcising demons is not easy lol especially since both of them have lost a bunch of their powers. Kaz usually works as the "distraction" and Eli is the one who does the actual banishment.

#'removal' seems too light a word for what happened #wip: your influence #oc: kaspian darling #oc: eli wirth #ship: eli x kaspian

[strang3lov3]

Phone a Friend

Joel Miller x fem Reader

Summary: A story involving two sexually frustrated assholes and how they resolved the tension. (Alternatively, Joel is sick of you keeping him up late at night with your hand between your thighs)

Warnings: Smut, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, PIV, the softest of soft dom joel, masturbation, spanking, slight perv!joel, sleazy!joel, implied age gap probably, enemies? with benefits?? Idiots in luuuurrve

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Was thinking of doing an enemies to lovers story and then thought, fuck it. Enemies AND lovers. Thank you @speckledemerald for proofreading!

please please please comment/reblog if you enjoy, i love reading the sweet things you say <3

It was amusing at first.

The first time it happened Joel was in bed reading a nice book Ellie picked out for him. He was just about to doze off, the words on the page illuminated by the warm light of his lamp began to blend together. 

“Oh,” 

It caught Joel off guard. And then a few more, quicker and breathier. 

“Oh, fuck,”

Frustrated moans spilling from your lips, right in the next room. They continued for an hour and Joel listened with an amused smile curling his lips as he palmed his bulge. He followed along with your moans, using your sweet noises to work himself up. He removed his cock from the confines of his plaid pajamas and stroked himself, every breathy moan of yours pushing him further and further to the edge. Joel had no issue coming in a timely matter, but you? You let out noises of frustration for what seemed like hours before finishing with a frustrated groan. And then silence.

Thin walls, what can you do?

The next morning Joel said nothing, just quietly sipped his coffee while you were slamming doors and cabinets and stomping around the kitchen. You had yelled out a perfectly crafted string of curse words, something like “Motherfucking piece of shit can’t toast one goddamn slice of bread without having a fucking aneurysm!” followed by “Cocksucking bastard of a toaster!” before you slammed your fist on the countertop.

Joel just smiled to himself in his coffee mug, knowing exactly why you were in such a charmingly pleasant mood. 

You had broken your dominant hand’s wrist a few weeks ago, and it was still healing. You couldn’t do much of anything with it, not write with a pencil or flip a pancake or butter a piece of bread. You had started trying to use your nondominant hand for more, but that had proved to be futile with mundane daily tasks. 

Apparently it wasn’t working very well in between your thighs either, Joel had deduced.

Joel just got up from his seat at the table, silently futzed with the toaster, then placed two slices of bread in for you. “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” he asked, one eyebrow cocked in amusement.

You didn’t bother replying, too frustrated in the early hours of the morning to entertain him. 

The routine happened nightly for weeks. 

Joel would be in bed, sleeping or reading. Your frustrated moans would wake him up, and he’d be rock hard at the dead of night. He’d jerk himself off tiredly, and then still spent hours listening to you continue to play with yourself. He’d be exhausted the next morning, sick of you inadvertently getting him all hot and bothered, and you’d be seeing red as you stomped around and slammed cabinets in maddening frustration.

It was amusing at first. Really. 

But it got old quickly.

Once, at breakfast, the situation was addressed. After a particularly long night of listening to your moans, Joel was practically falling asleep in his over-easy eggs and toast. “Morning, sunshine!” you said. He had said something rude and off handed to you in response, to which you replied “Aren’t you a fucking peach this morning?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Whatever,”

“I said, shut up,” Joel was the picture of exhaustion. Heavy bags under his eyes, a distant look in his pupils. One of his hands pinched the bridge of his nose as he furrowed his brows.  

“What’s your deal?”

“You,” he responded, not missing a beat. He decided the night before enough was enough, and you and he were going to share a conversation about noise levels.

Your brows knit together in confusion. Before you could ask, Joel interrupted. “Thin walls, darlin’,”

“What are you-”

“Fuckin’ playing with yourself all night. I hear you, you know,” He removed his hand from his face and stared at you with an irritated expression, his eyes boring into your own.

Your face heated up in embarrassment. “Jesus, Joel,���

“S’okay, hon. We all do it. But some of us like to do so with a bit more consideration for others, hmm?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,”

“You’re too loud,” Joel stated plainly. “And you take for-fuckin’-ever. Might as well make you come myself. Lord knows I do it better than you.” 

You glared at him, beside yourself that he was bringing that up. It’s not enough to embarrass you for masturbating, apparently.

You and Joel had a tricky relationship, to say the least.

He was simultaneously the person you trusted most in the world, and the biggest piece of shit you knew. He was arrogant, brash, and rude. He thought you were annoying and naive, and yet, you still slept with each other.

It was a night of drinking gone too far. One thing led to another, and then another. Before you knew it you were naked and tangled in each other's limbs, whimpering and moaning praises into his skin. You told him the next morning that it was a mistake and that it would never happen again. 

And then you’d do it again, of course. And again, and again.

Fucking Joel left you feeling full of all sorts of complicated things. You were sleeping with your enemy, and it was fucking incredible. He learned to play with your body perfectly, knowing exactly how to touch you to get you to fall to pieces for him. He could make you come embarrassingly quickly, melting for him in mere moments with the most feather-light and gentle touches. But he still drove you absolutely mad.

After each time, you told him the same thing: it would never happen again. But like clockwork, it would. After a bad date or another night of drinking too much, you’d be back where you started. Under him, on top of him. It didn’t matter. 

At this point, you and Joel hadn’t had sex in a few months. Your longest spell yet. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of it a few times, wishing for his skilled fingers instead of yours. But this time, this time would be different. You were determined to quit your addiction, even if the withdrawals were miserable. 

“My god, you’re an asshole,” you stood up from your seat angrily and put your plate into the kitchen sink. It fell with a loud clatter.

“I know you’d like it,” he said with a bite of food in his mouth. Gross, you thought. For a man who’s always on Ellie’s ass about manners, he sure didn’t have much of his own.

“You wish, dickhead,” you scolded, putting on your boots and lacing them up. “Fuck you. You try getting off with a broken wrist,”

“Wouldn’t have to. I’d just phone a friend, sweetheart. You should try it,” God, his smirk. His fucking shit-eating grin. You could slap it right off his excruciatingly handsome face. 

You rolled your eyes and put on a jacket, leaving Joel without saying goodbye. 

That night, while in bed, you decided to fuck with him for being such an asshole to you that morning.

With your hand between your thighs, you moaned loudly. Right into the wall. High pitched and unrealistically. Annoyingly. It was the middle of the night, surely waking Joel up.

Joel pounded on the wall with his fist. “Oh, that’s very mature,” he yelled, his voice muffled by the barrier. “Knock it off.”

You just moaned louder, more obnoxiously. Joel slammed on the wall. You were dicks to each other the next day, constantly at each other’s throats. 

You did this dance for a while. Was it ridiculous and completely unreasonable? Yes. But so was Joel. And you, for that matter. Fuck being the bigger person, this was Joel Miller you were dealing with.

Tonight, Joel was supposed to go to the bar with Tommy, but he had canceled. Stomach flu, said Tommy. So instead, Joel had a quiet night in. After dinner, he got into bed and picked up his book from his nightstand. 

He was about half an hour into reading when he heard you moan. And then you did it again. 

“Very funny” he grumbled to himself, tapping on his wall lightly. He was tired and didn’t have the energy to do another silly moaning/wall pounding argument. 

You didn’t stop. Truthfully, you didn’t hear him. You thought he was out with Tommy, nobody had let you know that plans were changed. 

Your moans were different tonight, Joel noticed. Not obnoxiously loud to piss him off. Just genuine, regular moans of pleasure. He decided to give you a break, let you let off some steam without him giving you shit for it. 

But then he heard it. 

Joel. 

Clear as day. His name, whimpered from your lips. He missed it dearly, how sweet his name sounded rolling off your tongue. Memories of his arms wrapped around you tightly while you’d whisper his name like a prayer into his neck. 

And that’s when he gets an idea.

He tiptoes out of bed, straight to your room. He twists the handle of your door, thanking god the lock is broken. Joel’s quiet, silent as he tiptoes to your bed. There’s a dim light illuminating your face, your eyes are scrunched tightly shut as you work sloppy circles into your clit, still moaning Joel’s name. 

He’s right next to you now, and taking a seat on your bed. “Moanin’ f’me and I ain’t even touchin’ you,” he whispers as he puts a hand on your bare leg. 

Your eyes fly open and you jump, nearly kicking him. “Joel!” you gasp. “What the fuck are you-”

“Thin walls,” he reminds you, though it’s not really an answer to your question. “Was that my name I heard you whispering?”

You shake your leg from his touch and sit up, covering yourself. “Jesus, Joel. No,” you spit, shooting daggers at him. “Get the fuck out.”

“Right,” he says, blatantly refusing to acknowledge your request. “Coulda’ told me you were missin’ my cock.” Joel’s hand returns to your leg, dragging his fingers up and down the soft skin. You kick his hand away again. Presumptuous piece of shit.

Heat is rising to your cheeks and you continue to glare at him with pure hatred. “You wish. I don’t miss any part of you,” you hiss. 

“Oh, how you wound me, sweetheart,” Joel clutches a hand to his heart sarcastically. 

“I am not doing this with you. Get out. Now,” you demand. You’re not entertaining this asshole and his flagrant violation of your privacy. 

Joel chuckles. “No. I’m not leavin’ yet,”

“Why?”

“Because you keep me up night after fuckin’ night. I’m not leavin’ until I know you’re finished,”

You don’t have the time or energy for this bullshit. “Joel, move,” you warn, kicking into his thigh with your foot. But he doesn’t budge. 

You think for a second, taking in the situation. Joel’s watched you come a million times before. And he looks fucking sexy tonight, his plaid pajama pants hanging low on his hips, giving you a perfect view of his happy trail. He’s not wearing a shirt, his salt and pepper hair is a curly bed-headed mess. His eyes are darkened with lust, sparkling in the dim light. His hand has returned to your ankle, rubbing slow circles with his thumb. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have some eye candy as you pleasure yourself.

“Fine,” you concede. “I come, you leave me alone, and we both go to sleep after.”

He shoots you a sly smile. “That’s my girl,” he whispers, pulling you closer and separating your thighs. His touch on your skin is electric and sends desire shooting through your veins, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you feel good again. If he wants to torture you, you’ll do it right back to him.

“You’re not touching me,” you say flatly, wrapping your fingers around his wrists and pushing him away from your thighs. “I’m doing this myself.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Joel replies. He figured you’d say that, seeing as how stubborn you can be. “You just come for me and I’ll be on my merry way.”

“I’m coming for me. Not you, Joel,”

“Hmm, s’that right?”

“Yup,”

You’re silent then, unsure of the logistics of this sexual endeavor. Joel’s seen you in so many vulnerable positions, tasted your most intimate places and heard your most desperate moans. Still, you’re shy. Masturbating for someone else is vastly different than being an active participant in sex.

And his eyes, good fucking lord. Staring at you intensely like you’re artwork. Or rather, an artist. Desperately waiting to see the way you paint circles on your clit.

Fuck it. With a deep breath in and then a deep breath out, you rip the bandaid off and begin. You close your eyes, unable to look into Joel’s piercing gaze any longer. Your fingers begin trailing under your shirt, pinching and twisting at your nipples gently. You lean into your touch, your hand slides further down the soft skin of your tummy and then your tuft of coarse hair, finally settling at your cunt. 

You’re not quite wet yet, you realize as your fingers grace your entrance to gather your arousal. Rather hurriedly, you bring your fingers to your lips and cover them in saliva before returning to your center. You adjust slightly, spreading your legs wider. And then you begin. 

You start with slow circles orbiting your clit, somehow over sensitive and yet not feeling enough. You quicken your pace, then slow down again. And then speed up. All the while, letting out frustrated grunts and moans. 

“Need some help, sweetheart?” Joel’s voice interrupts.

You let out an exhausted groan at the way he breaks your concentration, as if you were close at all. “No, just shut the fuck up,” you hiss, not opening your eyes to meet his gaze. You wonder if you offended him, but you don’t really care. Joel can go scratch for all you give a shit.

You continue your actions, circling your clit with your fingers. And it just doesn’t feel right. It’s fumbling, awkward. You wish you had your other hand between your thighs. Really, you’re dying for Joel to touch you. It’s his skilled fingers you want tracing circles into your clit. But you remain firm in your protest of his pleasure. 

“Doin’ it wrong,” his voice interrupts. He says it flatly, like it’s so glaringly obvious. Like he would fucking know, you think. Except, deep down you know that he does know. 

He reaches forward and adjusts your fingers to better suit your needs, and you gasp when his fingers touch your skin. “Try that,” he whispers. 

And so, without changing the placement of your fingers, you continue. It’s…better. Much better, actually. But you’re still struggling to get even a hair closer. 

“Look at you,” Joel whispers tauntingly. “No wonder you can’t come. You don’t know what you’re doin’ with all this. Need me to take care of this pretty pussy.”

“I most certainly do not,” you huff, irritated with his pompous and smug attitude. You gasp as you feel one of his fingers tease your entrance, slowly pushing inside. 

“Really?” Joel teases with a tantalizing tone. He curls his finger inside you, finding that spot that makes your head spin as you continue your circles. Your hips jut upward in search of more, more, more. “Don’t you want me to make it all better for you?”

“N-no,” you stutter in response, still bucking him. 

“That’s fine,” he mumbles, removing his finger. You whine at the loss, reaching your hand to grasp at his and put it back at your center.  

“No, no, don’t stop,” you whine, voice wrecked and desperate.

“Can you ask nicely?”

Oh, fuck him. “Please,” you rasp out, opening your eyes to meet his. He looks so fucking cocky, wearing a smug grin as he pushes two of his thick fingers in you with ease this time. You’re much, much wetter than you were before. 

He pushes upward inside you repeatedly, fingers dancing in your wet heat. It’s deplorable, loathsome, the way you melt under his touch. 

“Wanna know what your problem is, honey?” His voice is soft and syrupy sweet, and you hate that stupid charming affectation he puts on.

“No,” you breathe. “Just make me-”

“I’ll tell you what your problem is,” he interrupts. Dickhead. “You ain’t gentle with yourself. Need to be more patient,”

“Joel, for the love of god,” your voice is strained as he continues teasing you, his touch feels infinitely better than your own but he’s holding back, not yet giving you what he knows you need so desperately. 

“Pretty pussy like this needs love, sweetheart,”

You ignore him and buck your hips into his hand, needing more than what he’s giving you. “Joel, shut up and make me come,”

He swats your ass. “You ask me nice, now,” he instructs. 

You roll your eyes as far back as they can go, and comply with his unreasonable request. “Please,”

“Please what?”

“Please shut up and make me come,” you snap.

“God, you’re a fuckin’ delight,” he says sarcastically, irritated. “You wanna try that again?” He begins pulling his hand away, threatening to leave you high and dry. He knows he’s your only way of finishing tonight. 

“Fuck, please. I just wanna come,” you sigh, defeated and exhausted. It’s been an eternity since you had a proper orgasm, and you just want to come. If only the man getting you off wasn’t such a tool. “Please.”

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” Joel taunts, smiling. He pulls you close, pushing your shirt up to play with your plump breasts. He grabs a handful, and begins kissing your inner thighs, kissing down, down…

You gasp when you feel him press a kiss to your sex, his fingers now twisting and teasing your nipples as his tongue explores every inch of your slick folds. Not that he needs to experiment at all, he has your body memorized. Every fucking inch of you. 

He fucks you with his fingers as he kisses your pussy, tonguing your slick folds and licking up every last drop of your sweet arousal. 

“Fuck, yes Joel. Just like that,” you breathe, pushing your hips into his face. His nose and mouth are hidden by your body, his eyes are intense and teasing when he raises his brows in amusement. Honestly, he thought you’d take longer to crack. But here you are, whimpering his name with every flick of his tongue and his fingers on your sensitive nipples, twisting and teasing them just so. 

He takes a moment to just taste you, get his fill of you before finishing you off. He flattens his tongue against you, then points it into your clit. He spends moments alternating between the actions, savoring every inch of you. The way you moan, the way your insides flutter around his fingers. The wet noises of your pussy are downright pornographic as he devours you and you can feel his devious smirk against your pussy.

When he’s satisfied, Joel wraps his plump lips around your sensitive bud gently, still flicking his tongue against you. You fall to pieces instantaneously, your thighs tremble and shake as your orgasm builds in the pit of your stomach.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” is about all you remember how to say when you come on his tongue. He has this effect on you, making you forget how to speak. It’s even worse now. 

You’re a mess of heaving breaths and whimpers as you ride out your long-awaited orgasm on his tongue. All you can do is cry his name as he overstimulates your pussy before he finally slows, kissing up your body and neck. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips and you taste yourself on his tongue, suddenly feeling bashful.

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” he whispers into your ear. He pulls away then and leaves your room, just as he promised. 

His footsteps fade out as he returns to his own room, his cock painfully hard and leaking precum. You’re still in bed, not yet fully satiated. 

You know what you need. As if you haven’t been a needy mess for him enough already. You’re an addict, completely powerless against your addiction. You wince as you get out of bed, following his footsteps as you contemplate the kind of sickening satisfaction you’re about to give him. 

Joel looks surprised when you enter his room, but you say nothing as you walk up to him. He’s tall and imposing above you, staring you down with an eyebrow cocked in interest, wondering if you’re about to do what he thinks you’re about to do.

You shove a hand down his pants, his cock is achingly stiff. You palm him, pushing him back towards the bed as your other hand tries to push down his pajama bottoms. 

“Woah, woah, woah,” he stops you, grabbing ahold of your hand on his dick. “Thought you said you didn’t miss my cock,”

“I don’t,” you reply firmly. 

“Then what’s your hand doin’ down my pants?”

You mumble incoherently, babbling something about just needing to fuck him. He stops you, “You can just ask, baby. I don’t mind givin’ you a little extra lovin’ if that’s what you need,”

You nod, unable to form a coherent thought. 

“Words, my love,” he reminds you. 

“Please,” 

“Please what?”

“I need you,” 

“Why?”

You groan angrily, tired of his boorish act. You push him on the bed and kneel between his legs. “I don’t know,” 

“Because like it or not, I make you feel good. Right?” Joel taps your cheek, encouraging you to look into his eyes. “I take good care of your pussy, don’t I?”

“You do,” you mumble under your breath. 

“Couldn’t hear ya, need ya to speak up f’me. Got bad ears, sweetheart,”

“You do,” you say a little clearer this time. 

“One more time. Who takes care of you?”

Oh, you could kill him. He must think this is so funny, watching you squirm and try to spell it all out. But then you remember, with his aching cock in your hand, you don’t have to listen to this. You have the power to shut him up. 

You pull his cock out of his pants quickly and part your lips over the blushed tip, tasting his salty precum on your tongue. He loses himself, gasping at the feeling of your tongue circling his tip and tracing thick veins as you lower your head down his cock. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this. 

“Ffff-” he hisses, one of his strong hands tangling in your hair. You’re using your mouth just how he likes, sucking him and swirling your tongue on his shaft. He’s breathing deeply, his soft tummy hitting your forehead with every deep breath he takes. 

You relish in the feeling of him falling apart for you, but more importantly the silence. The sexiest thing about Joel is when he shuts the fuck up. 

Your nose brushes the tuft of hair surrounding him, pushing yourself deeper and deeper, as deep as you can go. You hollow your cheeks, using your soft and wet mouth to massage him. You feel him twitch in your mouth, and he yanks you up by your arms, spit dribbling down your chin. 

Both of you are silent, save for your panting breaths and moans. No words need to be spoken, both of you know exactly what you’re needing. You’ve done this dance a million times before and have memorized a routine.

You straddle Joel’s thighs, centering yourself over his cock. You reach down to grab it and line yourself up, but something changes in Joel. In a swift motion, Joel flips you over on your tummy and presses down on your head with his big hand, using the other to pull your ass up to his cock. You gasp in surprise.

“Stay like that,” he instructs you. “Don’t move.”

You feel so exposed like this, on display and waiting for him to fuck you. Joel shimmies off his pajamas and kneels behind you, dragging the tip of his cock through your slick folds to gather your arousal. Despite the way your cunt drips for him, it’s not enough. 

Roughly, he pulls you up by your neck and shoves a palm under your mouth. “Spit,” he commands. 

And so you spit into his palm, feeling blood rush to your tummy in nervousness. He’s never been this way with you before.

“We’re doin’ things my way,” you hear him growl as he smears your saliva over his cock. “Been listening to you play with yourself for too damn long.”

“Joel,” you whine, arching your back and pushing into his hips. He swats your ass just enough to sting slightly, not hurting you too bad. 

“Shut up,” he says, pushing his tip into your center and dragging it through your folds. “I think,” he starts, notching his tip in your entrance. “I think when you come from now on, it’s gonna be ‘cause I let you.”

You can only mumble in response, head going fuzzy at his words. All you can think about his how much you need to be fucked. 

“Think you need to learn some self control,” he begins pushing in at an absolutely achingly slow pace. Millimeter by millimeter.

“Joel, move,” you demand with a groan, ignoring his words and pushing your hips back. He holds your hips  tightly, not allowing you to move further. You’re so needy, so ready to just be fucked hard, the way you picture him each night. Pounding into you mercilessly.  

“See, now that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about,” he chides you. “No patience.”

Joel continues pushing into you at a slow pace, letting you feel every inch of his member. He stretches your hole deliciously, allowing you to feel completely full. “Remember what I said? Gotta be gentle, like you love it,”

You’re breathing deeply, waiting for more. Joel pulls out, then slides back in with ease. He’s still going slow, but with enough force that you grunt when he bottoms out inside you. 

“That’s it,” he purrs. He watches his cock disappear inside you, then pulls out again. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

He begins fucking you at a steadier pace, somehow finding a happy medium between gentle and rough. “Feelin’ good?”

You’re at a loss for words. You feel all of him, every stroke so fluid yet firm. It’s nearly perfect. “Yes, Joel. Need more, please,”

“Oh, listen to that. Askin’ me nicely,” he says as he picks up his pace. “See what happens when you’re good to me?”

“Mhm,” you choke out. The way he fucks you is brutally delicious, just how you need it. He knows your body like the back of his hand.

“I promise I only wanna help, sweetheart. I know what’s best for you, don’t I?”

You abandon every ounce of protest in your body. Normally you’d bite back to his audaciousness with some quippy remark. But sweet fuck, he does feel good. He knows exactly how to make you dance under his touch, and you relish in the feeling. You almost feel guilty, denying your body this pleasure for so long. “Please, Joel,” is all you can say. And you don’t even know what you’re asking for, you just need Joel and Joel alone. 

“I like you like this, beggin’ for me. So much nicer when I fuck you,” 

The wet squelching sounds of your pussy fill the room, along with both yours and Joel’s heaving breaths. You feel his balls slapping up against your clit with each and every thrust he delivers onto you. 

“Joel, need you,” 

“I’ve got you, baby. What do you need?”

You can barely form words, so you let your body do the talking instead. You pull off of his cock and lay down beneath him, your eyes wide and your legs spread. You pull him down to you, kissing and nipping at his hot skin. Your moans are breathy and you buck your hips up to his, telling him what you need. 

Joel picks up what you’re putting down. He pulls away from you, lining himself up and pushing into you, as if just picking back up where he started. His arms are bracketed on either side of you as he fucks you, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep inside. It’s too much, you turn your head to the side and bite into his wrist to keep yourself from screaming his name. 

Your pussy squeezes him, walls fluttering and pulsing with every thrust of his cock. His once precise movements are beginning to falter, and he reaches down between your bodies to find your clit. 

“Not gonna last if you keep doin’ that t’me,” he warns. “I want you to come with me, okay baby?”

You nod, spreading your legs wider and wrapping them around his torso, the heels of your feet digging into his asscheeks. Your hands are holding onto his thick forearms for dear life, you watch the way his veins twitch and flex under your fingers. 

Just like each time he’s fucked you before, it’s almost pathetic the way you come undone for him with such ease. He’s rubbing your clit in steady circles for merely a moment before you come for him, sobbing in pleasure into his skin. When you come, it’s a mixture between explosive and slow. It’s simultaneously fireworks and a pot bubbling over, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. It’s nearly too intense, your eyes screwed shut as you cry his name like a prayer.

It’s all Joel needed to come. His name on your lips, your cunt gushing and squeezing him. He can’t help but spill inside you, shooting hot ropes of his seed inside you as he helps you ride out your orgasm. He collapses on top of you for a moment, pressing sloppy wet kisses into your skin. You hold him close, savoring the way his body feels so comforting on yours. He’s such a fucking dick, but he’s your person. Your home. 

“Fuck, I missed you,” he whispers. 

You smile mischievously. You know Joel cares deeply for you, maybe even loves you, but it’s amusing to hear him vocalize that. “You missed me?” 

“Ugh, no,” he lies. 

“Good,” you say. “I didn’t either.”

Joel leaves then to clean you up, then he gets back into bed pulls you into his side, your head resting on his chest. You fall asleep like that, holding each other sweetly in the early hours of the morning. 

Neither you nor Joel never did get much sleep, but at least you were kinder to one another in the morning. No doors or cabinets were slammed in anger, and innocent toasters were free of your verbal abuse.

@swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @venusdemonroe @guiltgoreglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @harriedandharassed @vickie5546 @louisxosblog @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers@angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @ihatespoilers @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @sesigsss @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @palomaluvsdilfs @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @jazzy-music-cat @anoverhwhelmingdin @dontatmethebeasts @venus122idkpleaze @nopealoupe @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @darleneslane @bbyanarchist @spideysimpossiblegirl @speckledemerald

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel miller #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #soft dom!joel

[ellastone-olsen]

hihihihi idk if youre accepting requests or not but if you are:

can you please do stripper!wanda x innocent!reader where reader's friend drags her to a nearby strip club to blow off steam. and reader is really innocent and is just sitting in the chair, slightly confused while watching the dancers do their thing on the pole. and reader is unknowingly eyeing one certain stripper (wanda) and wanda notices and comes over to reader. and reader's friend is teasing reader and telling wanda to give reader a lap dance when she comes over. and then wanda brings reader to like one of the private rooms in the back and like reader is realy inexperienced and awkward and tense. and then wandas there to like talk reader through it and reader's like REALLLY shy. okay woah thats a lot thank youuuuu take your time 💝

The art of eye contact - Wanda Maximoff

★Pairing: stripper!Wanda Maximoff x innocent!f!reader

Summary: your friend drags you to a strip club, what could happen there to such an innocent little thing like you?

★Warnings: little NSFW 18+, lap dance, grinding, pet names, a little fluff (sorry I can’t without fluff)

★Word count: 1.5k

★AN: hi anon! In general, my requests are closed, but I found this very interesting, so here we are. there was nothing about 18+ in the request and I decided to remove this part (well, almost). hope you’ll like it

The loud music and shining lights of the club were blinding as you sat shyly in your seat and looked somewhere at the floor. There was a can of soda on the table nearby. The people around are mostly men, but your eye notices some women who also came to watch the show. And only one question: what the hell are you doing here?

“Come on Y/N let’s go, I’ve been there more than once, maybe you’ll like it.” This is exactly what you heard from your friend half an hour ago, when you were sitting in her apartment and just playing online games. You came to her in a terrible mood because of a failed college exam and sought solace in this meeting. In the last couple of weeks, your nerves were on edge and all you need now was to let off steam after a series of failures. “Fucking shit, can’t you see they’re shooting at you!?” You told her angrily as she turned away from the laptop screen without following the game. You definitely needed another way to relax.

Despite your 21, you had never been to this kind of establishment and of all your friends, you were the most innocent person, not knowing what relationships and sex are. "Come on, let's go, don't be so boring." She insisted, "If you don't like it, then I give you permission to hit me." You took off your headphones and sighed. If you think so, then you were curious to visit the strip club. "okay." After that, within 10 minutes you were riding in a taxi to an address unknown to you.

Returning to the present time, you tried not to stare too much at all these people dancing at the poles, the clothes on them were becoming less and less every minute and your cheeks were flushed red. Your friend hit you with her elbow, signaling for you to look (she paid for the entrance and doesn’t want her money to disappear into the floor in which you are ready to make a hole with your gaze). You look up again and look at each dancer in turn until you reach her. To your right is dancing a woman with long red hair, which is pulled back into a messy bun with a shiny clip. Her top was already off, revealing a red fabric bra that did not hide the softness of her breasts. She was still wearing a long skirt that cut out to her hips, so you could see her legs, which seemed to be moving closer to you. Stop why is she coming to you.

While you watched as if under hypnosis, the stranger was already in front of you and grabbed the soda from your hand and put it on the table to put her hands on either side of you on the armrests. Her back arched and she made a small wave, so that her breasts were a few centimeters from your face, it seemed like you were ready to explode from what was happening. Her head tilted, her lips reached your ear so she could shout to you over the noise of the music, “I’m Wanda, nice to meet you.” In your opinion, people usually don’t get to know each other by sticking their almost bare breasts under the noses of strangers, but remember where you were and toss all the questions. In any case, all you did was nod and again direct your gaze somewhere to the side. It seemed that you had turned into a bundle of nerves and embarrassment.

Wanda took this as a sign that she needed to look for another client for the night, but your friend, who had been watching all this time from the side, took the redhead somewhere to the side and seemed to give her a bill and instructions on what to do.

"Where have you been?" You asked the girl as she approached with a sly grin, noticing how red you were. Why the hell did she bring you here and leave you to your fate? “I have another little gift for you that you’ve been eyeing so eagerly.” Was she teasing you? Defined. “What are you talking about, what kind of gift am I thinking enough for today.” Then your friend stepped aside and showed Wanda standing behind her. The girl leaned over so only you could hear, “I paid, so have fun.” You didn’t immediately understand what exactly she paid for, but Wanda’s sweet smile brought the idea to your brain and your eyes widened.

The redhead gently took your hand in hers and you obeyed (only out of curiosity) and followed her into the private rooms. When the red matte door closed and it became much quieter, you sat on the sofa with your hands on your knees and asked a question. “What exactly she told to do?” One of your knees is bouncing from the fact that you are shaking your leg trying not to be nervous. Your friend has already explained to the redhead what an innocent little thing you are, so the woman decided to first ask permission for some actions.

"She ordered a lap dance, but you're such a sweet girl that I was willing to do it for free just for you." She came up to you again and leaned in, so close that her breath was on your neck and you could smell the scent of her cherry perfume. “Can I sit on your lap honey?” Her soft sexy whisper drove you crazy and you squeaked in agreement. Immediately you felt the weight of her body on you, how her long legs in stockings wrapped around you and your core began to pulsate just from this. "What should I do? I…I never…” Wanda’s hips rocked and her core pressed against your stomach. “Oh I know baby, I can see it right away.” She giggled. “I’m sitting right on top of you, can you tell me your name?” Your head fell back and your hair fell into face, you really didn’t want to seem like what you were, namely the inexperienced mess right under her. “My name is Y/N.” Your hands grabbed the upholstery of the sofa, you didn’t know how to touch her, or whether it was possible at all.

Wanda's hands dropped to yours and placed them on her hips. “That’s it Y/N, you can touch me if you want.” Your head turned towards her and you finally looked into her big green eyes. It was so beautiful that no part of her body interested you as much as this. “Your eyes are so…lovely.” The woman seemed confused at these words. Her clients told her a lot, in particular something about her breasts or ass, but never before had anyone given her a compliment with such trepidation. “Oh, what a cute little thing you are Y/N.” She stood up on your knees, her hands reached for the clasp of her skirt, which she was still wearing, but you stopped her. “No, don't. I mean, you're so beautiful, you don't need to take your clothes off to prove it."

This was the third time you had confused her that night. Of course, your inexperience spoke to you, but you also didn’t want to do something so blatant with her, at least not right now. Although perhaps there was one thing that you wanted to get. “I...can you kiss me? That is, if you don’t want to or it’s forbidden, I don’t insist, but...” Her soft, full lips fell on yours without allowing you to finish, it seems that at these words the woman’s heart sank painfully. Her dark lipstick mixed with your cherry gloss and with every movement of your lips, your hands gripped her soft thighs tighter. “Wanda...” You wanted to ask, but she wasn’t done with you. When there was not enough air, she pulled away and turned her head away. “Sorry, it was not according to regulations.” You didn't understand why she was apologizing.

“No, no, everything is fine, at least... it sounds so stupid but... maybe you would like to get to know each other better and go on a date, for example?” You realized how naive it sounded, asking the girl from the strip club you had just met on a date. Surely everyone who was with her in this room made her such an offer.

Instead of words, the woman got up from you and you thought that the time that your friend had paid for was over, but after a few seconds she handed you a piece of paper with numbers. “Here, this is my number, text me in the morning if you don’t change your mind.” You took the small piece of paper from her hands and carefully placed it under your phone case.

For a minute you were in an awkward ringing silence. “Can I kiss you again?” You asked shyly. Even then, Wanda couldn’t refuse you.

When you left the private room and said goodbye, your friend immediately met you with questions about how everything went. You told her, not knowing that in this evening Wanda did not bring anyone else into the room where you were together.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda fanfic #wandanat #wandanat x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x reader #mommy wanda #wanda marvel

[pwinkprincess]

how to tame a brat ୨ৎ

you make the mistake of calling toji a bitch

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ HOW TO TAME A BRAT ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ ---> creampie, p in v, squirting, multiple orgasms, choking (not hard enough to kill lol), use of the word daddy, he calls her a bitch once, rough sex, he gets softer near the end, light praising, pet names (princess), failed orgasm denial, begging, thoughts about recording (briefly mentioned), dacryphilia

“Ohmygod! I’m sorry, daddy, please!” You whined out from both desperation and over stimulation. You let out a shrill when he said nothing and only pushed your head deeper into the pillow. You couldn’t believe you were getting fucked like this. The way he pounded your pussy until it was on the borderline from overstimulation, the way he talked to you as if you were nothing to him but a hole to stick his fat dick inside. Everything was overwhelming.

“You weren’t sorry when you called me a bitch, right? Hmm? Say it again, call me a bitch now.” He slapped the fat of your ass as hard as he possibly could causing you to scream out and pathetically try to scramble away. “Stop fucking runnin’.” He demanded. He stopped plowing into your weeping pussy and leaned over so that he could wrap both hands around your neck. The pressure wasn’t enough to kill you but it did restrict your breathing quite a bit.

Your cries began getting stuck in your throat. You could do nothing but whimper and take the rough pounding he gave you.Tears streamed down your face, it felt like a gallon of water was dumped onto the pillow from how much crying you were doing.

Toji let out loud grunts as he stared down to where the two of you were connected, a white ring was formed around the base of his dick from your wet pussy. You had already came three times; once from his tongue, once from him fingering you and you squirting everywhere, and another from him just tip fucking you while rubbing your sensitive clit. There’s no telling how long Toji plans on going. Age be damned, that man had superhuman stamina.

“Daddy!” You croaked out when he shifted his hips and started hitting the spot. Toji only let out a hum as you repeated his name over and over as you felt your orgasm building up.

“You better not fucking cum.” He warned. You felt a pit in your stomach, both from the impending orgasm and from his warning. How did he expect you not to cum when he was fucking you like a madman?

“Please, pleasepleasepleaseplease, I can’t take it! ‘S too much!” Your brain was practically mushed. All you could think about is Toji’s fat cock filling every inch of your being. You were gnawing at the sheets, biting the pillow, letting out screams and nothing seemed to cease his thrusting. You were painfully aware that he wouldn’t stop unless you used the safe word the two of you agreed on.

“I’ll never call you a bitch again! I’m sorry!” Your pussy desperately clenched around his dick, warning him of what was about to happen. You felt limbless as you tried to hold back your orgasm.

“You were so bold over the phone, why aren’t you now?” You let out a loud sob once you felt one of his hands that were around your neck dart down to your clit, “You better not fucking cum, Brat.”

“I’m sorry! Sorrysorrysorryfuckfuckfuckfuck!” Your breathing halted as you clenched down tight enough to draw a moan out of Toji also. Your entire body shook and your eyes rolled back as far as they could go. You could briefly feel liquid shooting out and you realized he made you squirt again.

Toji, though irritated that you couldn’t follow his instructions, removed his cock from your pussy and began rubbing the tip throughout your wetness. He cooed at you as your loud moaning dejected into soft whimpers. He rubbed his tip against your clit, watching as you twitched and your pussy clenched around nothing. He would be lying if he said watching you squirt all over his dick wasn’t attractive. He silently wished he would have recorded it so that he could have fap material for later.

You laid boneless, it physically felt like you couldn’t move anymore. You were now silent but your breathing was extremely loud.

“You don’t fucking listen. You call me a bitch and then don’t listen to my orders.” Your heart pounds loudly in your chest from the obvious annoyance in Toji’s tone. If you had the energy, you would have tried to defend yourself and also make it up to him by getting on your knees and sucking him off until he felt like forgiving you.

You huffed out as your response. He didn’t move for a few seconds until he suddenly laid beside you and grabbed you. He adjusted you until you were laying on your side with your back to his chest.

“Tired?” He asked as he began kissing your neck.

“Very.” You responded softly with a soft moan from his ministrations.

“Can I keep fuckin’ you until I cum, princess?” The rough tone that he was using with you earlier is now gone and replaced with something more gentle. His hands rub at your thighs and hip as he waits for your response. You can feel his hard dick pressing against your back causing you to suddenly feel bad that he hasn’t had his turn to cum yet.

“Of course, baby.” You gave him a lazy smile that you weren’t sure if he was able to see.

He continued sucking and kissing on your neck. He would briefly bite down on your skin, not enough to break it but enough to cause a sensation. One of his hands surged forward, he began pulling and pinching at your nipple while he used his other hand to line his dick up at the entrance of your hole.

He slowly pushed himself in, letting out a grunt in relief. Nothing felt better than being inside of you. You and your pussy are too addictive. Toji has never felt this way about a woman ever. He’s usually the type to fuck and dip but he finds himself coming back to you time and time again. How could he give up pussy that is so delicious? Just the thought of him letting you go and some man stumbling and finding you makes him wanna roughly fuck you again.

You let out a tired, stretched out moan as you welcome his dick into you again. His hand grabs at your thigh and lifts it up so that he could have more access. He wastes no time fucking his cock into you. Your pussy squelches as more of your natural lubrication seeps onto his dick. You’re so fucking wet, he could feel it dripping onto his balls. He rolls his eyes back as he gets lost in your pussy.

The pinching on your nipple gets even rougher as he moves his hips faster. He removes his lips from your neck only to move down to your shoulder where he begins to also suck and bite on random areas. You bite down on your lip as you try to enjoy his dick rubbing against your gummy walls, you’re so so so sensitive now.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet.” Toji mumbles out, he’s absolutely pussy drunk. He can’t form any thoughts besides you. He has to bite his lips from saying those three words. “My little obedient bitch.” He uses the hand that’s pulling at your nipple to grab your jaw so that you could look at him.

The two of you briefly stare into each other’s eyes as his hips falter. The way you look at him, the way you smell, the way you feel, the way you sound, it’s everything about you. He’s absolutely infatuated.

“Gonna cum.” You whine as you orgasm once again. It’s not as powerful as the other few times but it’s enough to absolutely wear you out.

Toji moans along with you as you clench around his dick. He presses his lips against your when he feels his impending orgasm finally break free. He plunges deep into your pussy as thick white loads of cum fill you. You chant his name against his lips as your eyes roll back.

Even once he’s done cumming he still gives you a few soft thrusts before coming to a complete stop. He removes his lips from yours with a soft pop.

“You did so well, princess.” He mumbles as he gives you one more final kiss.

Making up an argument and getting him worked up is so worth it, you decide.

#pwinkprincess ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა #₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ #tojiii ᡣ𐭩 ୨୧ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ #jjk ! ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა #˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #fushiguro toji #toji x y/n #toji fushigro x reader

[nochukoo97]

boyfriend drabbles (pt.33)

pairing: jungkook x oc

summary: the one where you and jungkook celebrate christmas, and you get a tiny bit jealous

word count: 1.4k+

masterlist

 sometimes you curse the universe for intoxicating you, making you become addicted to him like a drug. every moment spent with him made you find another reason to love him, another reason to gaze at him and think one thing: forever.

to you, jungkook is like an angel, glowing the brightest amongst all darkness and light in your life, always there to catch you if you fall. it makes you wonder just how much you’ve done in your past life to deserve a man like him.

that’s what you think as you hold the front door open for your boyfriend, who’s grunting as he tugs the christmas tree into your apartment. the lights in the apartment have yet to be switched on, and only the little cat lamp that jungkook had bought you a few years ago provides minimal light to guide the both of you through the door.

yet even the small lamp manages to make his face glow, his eyes meeting yours for a second when he realises your staring, again. instantly it’s like you’re falling in love all over again, and jungkook loves every moment of it. the way your pupils dilate the moment you look at him, or the way your eyes instantly light up even at the mere sight of him.

“where should the tree go?” he hums, halting in his steps as he pulls the tree to stand upright, huffing when the weight finally lifts off his hands.

“right next to the fireplace,” you point over to the empty spot where a plant use to sit, before you had overwatered it and caused its death. “right… here!”

jungkook carefully adjusts the tree, realising it might have been much larger than the both of you had expected it to be, as he notices how close it is to the ceiling.

“baby, are you sure this is the right size?” he laughs as you peer up to the top of the tree, bewilderment written all over your face as you try to recall if it was meant to be this big.

“i think we got the wrong size!” you whine, realising that since the top of the tree was so close to the ceiling, the star that you had planned to place at the top would definitely not fit.

“it’s okay, you know what they say, the bigger the better,” he snorts, sending you a wink as you gasp at his sudden innuendo, before sending a smack to his chest as you sigh.

-

“oh, you two are finally here!” your sister squeals when she opens the door, your niece running to peek at you and jungkook between her mum's legs as she waves at you shyly.

“yeah, sorry we got caught in a jam,” your boyfriend explains, passing the huge bag of gifts that he insisted the two of you needed to get for your niece, the small girl hiding behind her mum now curiously peering into the bag.

“come in, come in, ___ everyone’s excited to see him,” she snickers as you roll your eyes.

every year your family hosts a huge christmas celebration with friends and relatives, and one thing that doesn’t fail to happen is the guests gushing over jungkook.

“oh, jungkook is here!” your mum immediately calls out when she spots him supporting you as you remove your heels, your boyfriend chuckling when the aunties squeal a little louder than usual, him becoming the center of attention as he greets everyone.

“all good?” he turns to you, whispering slightly so that only you can hear his words, and you turn to him and meet his gaze.

“yeah, seems like you have fans here too,” you joke, poking his rib, jungkook laughing before he’s being called to answer more questions about, ‘what have you been up to lately’ and ‘you look more handsome”

as the conversations flow, you’re having a pretty good time catching up with your relatives, and chatting with newly made friends, but there was a sight that poked at your nerves ever so slightly.

a girl, looking about your age, which you had been sure was your sister’s college friend, batting her eyelashes at your boyfriend as she attempts to flirt with him.

“you’re so muscular, i’m sure you’d be able to lift me up so easily,” she giggles, reaching her hand out to slap over jungkook’s, but not before he quickly slips his hand off the table and onto your thigh, thumb stroking the exposed skin as he laughs nervously.

“so, how long have you guys been together anyways, like a year? ten months?” she smiles a little too widely, gesturing to you sitting next to him.

“we’ve been together for six years,” he proudly says, now shifting his arm around your shoulder as he shifts his gaze to you, noticing the slightly stiff and awkward look on your face.

the girl on the other hand tried to conceal her surprised expression, which she doesn’t do very well considering both you and jungkook noticed the shift in her demeanor.

“i’m gonna refill my drink,” you awkwardly shuffle out of your seat, grabbing your cup that couldn’t have been less than half full, quickly walking towards the table where the pitcher of water was.

“baby,” you hear jungkook walking up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he shifts your body to face him.

“save me from her, please,” you hear him plead, now looking up to meet his eyes.

you almost burst out laughing at the desperate look of pure torture on his face.

“she’s being so obvious, when i’m literally sitting next to you,” you roll your eyes, pouring the water into your cup before jungkook takes the pitcher from your grasp.

“jealous?” he smirks at you, now passing you the full cup of water, “i’ll make sure she knows i have the fattest crush on you,”

you let jungkook drag you back to the table, not missing how the girl squints at your interlocked hands that disappear under the table when the both of you sit back down.

suddenly, a piece of meat is being brought to your mouth, as you widen your eyes in surprise, but you happily accept it as you open your mouth, letting jungkook feed you.

“good?” he asks you, making his voice loud enough for the girl sitting opposite to hear, and you nod, pressing a kiss to his lips, and staying there a little longer than needed, but just long enough to send her a message.

she seems to receive the message well when she scoffs and pokes at the potato on her plate.

-

“finally,” you huff, clicking in your seatbelt as jungkook gets in the driver’s seat and shuts his door.

the engine hums softly as you drive home, the warmth of the car cocooning you both.

jungkook, still riding the high of the night, reaches over to intertwine his fingers with yours, his thumb gently tracing patterns on your hand.

stopping at a red light, jungkook turns to you with a playful grin. “can you believe that girl thought we'd been together for only a year?” he chuckles,

“six years of putting up with you, and she thought it was just a year,” you playfully quip, earning a light nudge from him.

-

the familiar scent of your apartment greets you as you step through the door, and jungkook wastes no time pulling you into a tight embrace, his warmth enveloping you.

“i missed this," he murmurs against your hair, and you smile, reciprocating the hug.

“me too, maybe next time we should make out in front of her,” you giggle, making jungkook tut at your words.

you decide to unwind on the couch, the soft glow of christmas lights creating a cozy atmosphere. jungkook wraps a blanket around both of you, his arm draped casually over your shoulder. with the tv remote in hand, he navigates through the movie options with playful commentary.

“let’s watch the grinch,” you point at the tv when it lands on the movie, and he nods, clicking on it.

as the movie begins, jungkook’s affectionate nature takes center stage. he presses gentle kisses to the top of your head, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm.

“baby, focus on the movie,” you giggle when his breath fans against your ear, tickling the skin and making you squirm.

“shh, let me love you,”

with the room bathed in the soft glow of holiday lights and whispered conversations between scenes, jungkook’s fingers find their way through yours, a silent reassurance that he's there, grounding you in the moment.

you rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. his fingers gently play with your hair, and the room is filled with a sense of contentment. the outside world fading away as you lose yourselves in the movie and the warmth of each other's presence.

taglist!: @imlyfie @jksgirlhere @laylasbunbunny @borahaexoxo @jklvrs-world @jksoftii @yoongisgirl69

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #bts #jungkook drabble #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x you

[eternalsdiary]

#SOMETHING UNEXPECTED

pairing: Dina x Ellie x Reader

tags: smut, fingering, MY LOVES

Life seemed average, a repeated cycle you could never seem to get out of. Bland, overused and average.

“YN, you need to get out more! All you do is work and sleep!” Jesse complains. But how could you “get out more” if the whole world was under attack by human beings infected by fungus?

“Jesse, m’not going out tonight. I gotta patrol early tomorrow, I don’t have time f’drinking.” You scoff, closing the book you were reading and placing it in the nearby nightstand. “You’re so boring, you never do anything fun.” He rolls his eyes and exits the room.

You never enjoyed parties anyways. You always felt like an outcast to this whole group of people, you were surprised they even let you stay this damn long. You had showed up out of no where and yet they let you in after a check for infection.

The day continued like usual. Eat, Work, Sleep, Repeat, and obviously the necessities. You groan as you awake, your hair bed head a lot messier than usual. You rub your temples as you exit the hard bed that was seemingly put together from sheets and scattered pillows found around.

You somehow found yourself assigned to early patrol with Ellie and Dina. It wasn’t that you disliked them, it was that you liked them a little too much. Somehow, they distracted you from your daily routine, always pulling you somewhere you didn’t need to be, forcing you to explore things you’d never explored. But today it seemed there was a lot of tension in the area. The snow not making it any better as the freezing air made the freeze of the silence grow thicker.

Silence engulfed the whole ride, until they approached an abandoned warehouse that had a harsh smell of weed. Inside a whole farm of it, just growing like nothing. “Hey hey, I haven’t seen this shit in forever.” Ellie says picking up a jar. “Does weed expire?” She asks turning to Dina, having finally spoken a word to each other. “I guess we’ll have to find out?”

A loud bang was heard, causing you to flinch as you turned to see that the snow had trapped all three of you inside the weed smelling warehouse. “God, I did not want this.” You roll your eyes, removing the gloves you wore. “Fuck…!” You kick something nearby. “Whoa there, it’s not that big of a deal, we can just stay here until it dies down. Then we can try moving the snow.” Ellie suggests, removing her coat and settling in a nearby couch.

You watch as Dina does the same, grabbing a lighter that seemingly still worked to light the joint they’d found in the jar. “This still hits.” Dina says with a small smile, passing the joint over to Ellie. You sigh, removing your jacket and looking around to search for another exit. “Hey, why are you so quick to leave? Live a little and come smoke this with us.” Ellie says, looking at you with her low eyes as the weed seemed to already be taking effect.

“I’m good, I don’t smoke. I didn’t smoke before either.” You roll your eyes, looking around once more, seeing that there were no other ways out. “Just come and sit down. It’s like you have a stick up your ass or somethin’.” Dina says, tilting her head to look at you. You groan, stomping over to them both and settling on the couch. “Here, I think ya need it.” Ellie giggles, egging Dina to do the same.

“I said I’m good.” Dina takes the joint, “Just one time, it won’t kill ya?” She takes a drag from the joint, blowing it into your face, causing you to retract. “Fine.” You finally give in, inhaling the smoke. You cough quickly, the biting sensation in the back of your throat lingering. “Okay what the hell?” You ask, hunching over to cough. “It’s fine, happens when it’s your first time. Try again.” Ellie helps you sit up, guiding the joint to your lips.

“When you inhale, inhale it slowly. So, it doesn’t hurt as bad.” Dina says softly, placing her hand on your thigh unconsciously. You flinch slightly, inhaling the smoke, letting it drape into your lungs slowly. Blowing the smoke into the air, you feel yourself becoming a lot more relaxed. “That was better yeah?” Ellie asks, watching you as she inhaled the joint and blows the smoke into your face.

“I guess so.” You say quietly, everyone feeling the effects of the weed. It hits you harder, your head spinning softly, your eyes getting heavier, and the stir between your legs becoming a lot more prominent. “Should we have another Dina? I’m not sure she can handle two.” Ellie says, looking at your slouched appearance.

You shake your head. “I’m good, I think.” You chuckle. Ellie nods lighting another, placing it between her thin yet plump lips. You watch her, your eyes entranced by the way her lips wrap around the joint. Dina slides her hand further up your leg, catching your attention. You turn to her, a smirk dawning her lips as she tilts her head to get a better look at you.

Ellie hands the joint over once more, this time leaning over you a bit more than usual. The feeling of her skin warming you up a lot more then you already were, her perky and uncovered breasts swaying in your face. You blush softly, your face tinted slightly. The thoughts that run through your head becoming unholy, but you blame it on the weed. Dina takes a drag, inhaling slowly. Suddenly she leans into you, your lips parting as she connects her lips to yours and exhales the smoke back into your lungs.

It was random, causing you to flinch softly. “Did ya like that? Or should I stop?” She slides her hand up your thigh further, her thumb gliding over your clothed cunt softly. Ellie watches, her eyes lingering over your figure. You look at Dina, the sinful thoughts running through your head starting to take over. “I-I don’t do this. I’ve never-“ Ellie silences you, putting the bud of the joint into the couch to let it burn out.

“We got you.”

Like usual, with Ellie and Dina you were doing something you didn’t usually do. Your legs spread open as Dina licked up the slit of your wet and dripping cunt. Ellie grips her hair, guiding her to eat you out just right. Your hands gripping the side of the couch as you whine and groan Dina’s name out into existence. Her arms wrapped around your thighs to keep your legs open as you shake, throwing your head back as she hits the spot that makes you tingle just right.

“Fuhh-ck!” Your head falls back off the couch, Dina’s fingers mingling with the hardened buds underneath your shirt. “Feel good pretty?” Ellie asks softly, looking down at you. You nod, droll pooling at your lips. Dina slides her finger into your core, your back arching into her as you fuck yourself with her fingers. “Fuc- Dina! Oh good-“ You grip the couch harder, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.

She eats you like it was her last meal, her eyes never leaving yours as she penetrates you with another finger. Ellie continues to guide her, hitting all the spots inside you just right. Her hands come down to your chest, running her thumb over the nipple as if she was admiring the way they bounced as you used Dina. “Yesyes.. right there!”

You grind against her face, feeling yourself become a lot needier. The high you felt earlier could never compare to this one. Her hands spreading you open just right, your eyes shut tightly. “Look at me hun.” She says softly, diving back into you as you open your eyes to look down at her. Ellie watches in awe at the way you open up to Dina’s fingers. “Oh shi- I’m gonna cum Din-“ Ellie suddenly moves Dina’s hand away.

You catch your breath, confused as to why she was depriving you. “I wanna turn too.” Dina rolls her eyes. “You could’ve at least let her cum first. I’m sure she can handle two orgasms.” You watch as they talk about you like you're not even there. “Okay then, think you can handle two pretty?” Your eyes pan to Ellie, nodding slowly as you lean back once more. “Good girl, see I told ya.” Dina says, sliding her digits back inside of you.

She decides not to start slow this time, her fingers using you quickly. “I wanna taste you c’mon.” You feel the high you were on coming back, your hands gripping her hair softly. Your eyes don’t leave her as Ellie leans back, watching the both of you as she waits patiently for her turn with you.

“C’mon hun, wanna taste your cum.” Dina speaks sinfully, causing you to fall over the edge. “Oh- cumming! Please!” You release on her fingers, back arching over the edge of the couch. Your legs shake as you orgasm like you never have before. She sucks softly on your sensitive bud, you whine softly. “Gotta take one more for Ellie, she wants a taste too hun.” Dina slaps your cunt softly.

You nod, spreading your legs once more. The adrenaline running through your body causing you to work against how sensitive you were. “Go in then you needy fuck, go get your fill of her before she changes her mind.” Dina slaps Ellie’s arm softly, wiping her face of your essence. Ellie leans in, kissing your stomach, kissing the inside of your thigh, then kissing your fold softly. “I can’t wait anymore.”

She suddenly licks, causing you to close your legs. “Ah Ah C’mon now. You keep ‘em open f’me do the same for El.” Dina spread your legs back open, leaning against Ellie. You whine, feeling sensitive as Ellie continues with her endeavor. She spreads your folds, sliding her finger inside to replace Dina’s. The length of her finger hitting a spot inside you that Dina didn’t hit before.

“Ah, wait! You- god!” You try to close your legs once more, but Dina slaps your inner thigh, holding them open. “Hey, stop it. You said you could take it so take it like a big girl.” Dina giggles, rubbing your inner thigh softly. You chant Ellie’s name, her fingers curling slighting inside you. You grip her hair, riding her face as if she were a dildo and you were a pornstar.

Dina feels her arousal pooling in her pants, sliding her hand down into her jeans as she touches herself at the sight of you. Your bottom lip I’m between your teeth as you groan, Ellie’s hair gripped in between your fingers. She enjoys the sight of it all. Ellie kissing your stomach again as she adds another finger, speeding up just enough to make you scream. “I’m- oh shit! Ellie please…!” You hold onto her wrist to keep her from moving away, riding her fingers and clenching around them.

“Gonna cum pretty, I wanna taste you as bad. S’not fair Dina got to try it first.” You whine, unable to speak. Dina throws her head back as she feels herself about to release around her own fingers. “Gonna cum together yeah? Cum with me YN.” She says breathlessly as she rides her own fingers. Ellie snickers, “ya just couldn’t wait could ya?” Diving back down to devour the essence about to release from you.

Your head spinning softly, your back arching, you ride her fingers until suddenly. You burst, cumming and squeezing around her fingers, your head falling back and your legs shaking like never before. “E-El oh Fuck! Yesyesyes!” You spread your legs more as she licks it all up, not leaving one drop of you behind. “Taste so good pretty.” She says quietly into your cunt.

Dina cums as well, her legs shaking as she slows down, circling her bud slowly. “Oh yes..” she leans back, pulling her hand out of her jeans. “Wanna taste?” She asks, leaning forward and placing her fingers into your mouth, allowing you to suck them clean. Your eyes low, the high still rippling through you.

“Let’s do this again sometime.”

I want them both so bad...

#ellie x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie smut #tlou ellie #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #dina x reader #dina tlou #ellie x dina #dina woodward #dina the last of us #tlou smut #tlou part 2 #tlou2 #tlou #tlou fanfiction

[hazbinhazmeinachokehold]

The gang + powerful overlord reader who is trying to reform

A/n: Tbh I don't have the strongest grasp on what makes an overlord an overlord but I tried. Everything here is platonic!

Warning: Very slight alluding to suicide. It's in one sentence and not supposed to be about suicide but I just wanted to warn y'all in case.

(Not beta read!)

You honestly didn't want to be an overlord. But if you had some power maybe the citizens of hell would leave you alone. And you were admittedly powerful. Which wasn't by your own doing, just like in the living world everything was down to luck. And you won the lottery. So you decided to spend the money and became an overlord. Just to lower the chance of demons pestering you.

It worked. It worked too well. You took out a few overlords, it was dirty. You caught them off guard in the middle of going about their life. You don't keep up with politics. To your surprise, you took out two heavy hitters. Which did result in people not pestering you. But not just that it resulted in them outright avoiding you. You didn't feel good about killing them, you just killed as many as you thought would need to make you noteable. If you had just killed the two it would have removed more unnecessary deaths that you caused.

People would literally light themselves on fire rather than be near you. Out of fear of what gruesome way you would kill them. Not that you would kill them but rumors spread. It went from you just stabbing the overlords to torturing them in the most messed up way possible. You being this insanely powerful and sadistic being. That was the only way they could imagine you killing some of the most powerful creatures in hell.

So it was like that for years. As you were walking around the death and carnage you didn't mean to cause. Amidst all the screams you heard a TV playing. You check it out and it was some sort of ad. You recognized Angel from Val. Whenever Velvet was the one to show up at meetings she would always manage to bring up her and the other Vee's social media presence. Which with Val would involve his pornos. At least he's able to escape from that prick sometimes. Despite the glitch he was somehow causing and his face being hidden you also recognized Alastor.

You didn't know much about your colleague's personal lives. You barely showed up at the meeting but this piqued your interest. But it was quickly cut off by the news.

"Breaking news in hell today!" One of the broadcasters, Katie, spoke, "We have just received word from the Heaven embassy that the next extermination is happening sooner than ever before!"

Well fuck you guess. You were never worried about exterminations. Not only did you have a safe area then none of the angels seemed to visit, if they killed you you'd be out of this dumpster fire. Granted you could go to an even worse dumpster fire but you didn't know that for sure.

But you were interested in whatever that first ad was for. Granted everyone was panicking so it wasn't like you could ask anyone about it. However, the news cut right back to the ad.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" A woman with an x over her eye spoke.

It cut to Husk (Who you've only heard snippets about from Alastor.) and Angel.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel." Husk's eyes lingered below him. Clearly reading a script. If his eyes didn't give it away his monotone voice certainly did. "Can I help you with anything?"

"I've been a bad boy. And I need a big strong daddy to put me in my place." Angel moaned. There was a slight sigh coming from behind the camera. Okay ew. You were not trying to see porn while going for a walk. Just as you were about to walk away Angel spoke up again, "On the path to redemption!"

Oh! That sounded... quite nice actually. You didn't exactly believe in the idea. But a chance to get away and even a chance to redeem yourself was a very nice idea.

You went to the hotel's door and racked against the door. Which was kind of stupid. Hotel doors don't need to be knocked on but it still felt like the right thing to do. The fucking princess of hell herself opened the door with a somewhat panicky smile plastered on her face.

"Hello-" She bit her lip "One second." She left but left the door open a creek, "Vaggie it happened again!" She yelled you could hear the rest of what she was saying but you saw a red glow approaching the door.

Before you knew what was happening your hand (and whole body was being shaken by the Radio demon himself, "Why hello y/n!" His staticky voice greeted, "Are you here to watch this wayward adventure fail as well? Or perhaps you aim to entertain it?" Alastor unnerved you. While you were the same on power level he was unpredicted any vengeful thoughts he had were hidden behind his smile.

He was gently pushed away by Charlie. "So sorry about the wait, just wasn't expecting another powerful overlord." She vaguely gestured to Alastor, "So do you want to check in?" Her voice was cautiously hopeful.

"Yep!"

Her eyes turned the size of saucers, "OK! Great so um sorry I'm just so excited! You can go choose your room! A few are already occupied by our guests and staff! But it's pretty easy to tell which rooms are taken." She rambled. As she guided you through the hotel the woman with an x over her eye pointed a spear at you as you passed by.

A short one-eyed girl scattered around. The exact opposite of how she was in the ad. She stabbed a bug with a whole knife getting dangerously close to Husk being at the end of her knife in the process.

Angel glanced at you and any color his already pure white face had drained. Uh oh.

"One minute." You said and walked over to the spider demon, "Fyi just to let you know I also want to kill Val. Just say the word and I might finally be able to go through with it." You said in a hushed voice. He was still tense but visibly relaxed.

You soon found a room and got somewhat set up. You'd have to bring some stuff from your house tomorrow. But today you decided to just collapse onto your bed. While your first impressions weren't of a super chill place, it did give the impression of a family. Maybe your life wouldn't be so much of a living hell here.

#hazbin hotel x reader #charlie x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #alastor x reader #angel dust x reader

[waterlilydrops]

Archive

It’s part 2 of THIS :)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader

summary: your new sex routine with Lewis: having sex while watching your sex tapes.

word count: 2k

warning: 18+ only, nsfw, explicit sex content, sex tapes, oral sex(m received), P in V sex, dirty talk, slightly Dom/Sub, spanking, praise kink. If you feel uncomfortable, please exit promptly.

note: Italicized text represents the content and dialogue from the video. That idea was sparked by an anon, thank you! As always, welcome any advice or suggestions.

“Baby, which one should we watch today?”Lewis took out the videotapes and placed them on the cabinet, looking at the marker-penned labels as he asked, “The Christmas one? Or the one I made you cum with my fingers?”

You lightly tapped his shoulder. “Hey, that wasn’t just about me.”

He gazed at you intently, black eyes filled with earnestness, “But you looked especially beautiful when you cum.” As if to say tonight’s dinner was particularly good.

That time was really intense. What happened again? Oh, you think it was because you both had a bit to drink. Does alcohol-free tequila also make people drunk? Once in a tipsy mood, after a few kisses, desire surged like a tidal wave.

Lewis turned off all the indoor lights, leaving only a floor lamp on.

“Hey, today was dd/mm/yy.” In the scene, a gentle flush colored your cheekbones, and your eyes sparkled with a radiant smile.

Ah, how did we get into that state? Did we have a few drinks then?

“Here is... Lewis.” The next second, like a beacon of charisma, Lewis’s face emerged in the frame, his beautiful brown skin radiant under the lights.

The video suddenly paused.

“What’s wrong?” You turned to look at him.

“Can we have a competition?” Okay, his desire to win extended beyond the race track.

“What are we competing in?”

“Whoever initiates the kiss first loses.”

As the video resumed, his arms wrapped around your middle as he hugged you tightly into his chest, and one of his hands slid down between your legs.

“Take your clothes off, Lewis.”

Were you always this direct when you were tipsy?

Sure enough, the next moment his palm rested on your mound. But surprisingly, he just left it there, without making any further moves.

In the video, the two of you had already started stripping each other’s clothes off. The camera was placed on the bedside table. With rustling sounds, you hastily removed your clothes, letting them fall to the floor, and without a pause, you began kissing passionately.

As the camera zoomed in on the intense kiss between you and Lewis, you shifted in your seat, feeling your tongue moistening your lips in anticipation. Your inner thighs brushed against his wrist, nestled between them, and you sensed a delicious dampness beginning to seep through your panties.

You couldn’t get wet that soon. Otherwise, it would seem too eager.

You stole a glance at Lewis’s profile beside you. the contours of his strong nose and the hint of a well-groomed beard were illuminated softly by the ambient light. He was completely absorbed in watching.

The sound of kissing in the video was accompanied by a soft, wet noise.

Damn, regretting it now. Why did you make it a competition? He should be kissing you right now. You really want it, your whole body is tense, wanting to be devoured by him.

Your eyes stared fixedly at the video, how could Lewis be so whole-heartedly in just a kiss?

You were pulled closer by Lewis, his hand on your neck, while his other arm wrapped around your waist, kneading your butt.

The hand between your thighs finally reacted a bit, pressing down on your mound at an extremely slow pace. You squeezed his hand between your legs, grinding against his hips while reaching out to touch his chest. Your palm, through his T-shirt, gripped tightly, eliciting a soft moan.

The camera zoomed in, revealing his abs tensing and relaxing. Your throat involuntarily swallowed drools as your hand slid down from Lewis's chest to his thighs.

With a few swift movements, his underwear was pulled down, and his semi-erect cock sprang out. Your smaller hand grasped it the next second, stroking it gently up and down.

“The way you get hard is so sexy...”

“well,” his strong arm appeared in the frame, probably caressing your face from the angle, “but you, baby, are even sexier.”

A rush of heat surged through your body. His low laughter, filtered through the speakers, only made it itchier, so you discreetly rubbed against the bedsheet, your hand slipping into Lewis‘s waistband. After a few strokes through his underwear, you couldn’t resist anymore.

That weighty thing was too enticing, and you wanted to feel it now.

You relenting and tugging his boxers down. Your mouth waters as his hard cock springs free, slapping against his navel with a lewd sound. You don’t hesitate to wrap your hand around the base, angling his pretty length towards your mouth.

No kissing. that’s mean I can kiss his cock?

You lean your head down, suck just the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue over his sensitive head. satisfied, and deliberately squinting your eyes as you looked up at Lewis.

“you’re breaking the rules...”

“Rules—” You slowly opened your mouth, allowing the head of his cock to slide into your mouth, and let your tongue swirl around it. “are meant to be broke, right?”

As you finished speaking, you performed several deepthroats, emitting soft moans as your lips hugged the base of the penis, causing Lewis to gasp urgently. You were quite satisfied with the current situation, able to both suck his cock and escape the video, at least for a while.

“You like that, don’t you?”You asked in a muffled voice because your mouth was occupied.

“Didn’t your family teach you not to talk with your mouth full?” Lewis shot back in a cross between an annoyed and sexy tone.

All Lewis received for his effort was you caressing his sacks, and the gentle touch of you cheek against his throbbing member made Lewis clench his fists as he growled.

You raised your eyelids, meeting Lewis’s gaze. The non-kissing contest came to an immediate end.

You were pulled up by the arm and your mouth was covered, Lewis devouring your lips as if starving for days.

There we go. That’s more like it.

“You lost.”

“Yeah, what reward do you want?”

“Spank me.”

The eighth.

You inhaled deeply, silently counting in your mind.

Kneeling on the bed, your buttocks raised high. The only downside is that with a slight lift of your head, you could see the tangled couple on the screen (Currently, you were making loud noises because you were being fingered). Lewis deliberately positioned you facing the screen. Your ears were filled with your own moans and gasps. You momentarily buried your head in your arms in an attempt to escape. Both cheeks were burning with heat, but there was a subtle sense of satisfaction in your heart. Lewis indeed fulfilled his promise, delivering firm strikes with gusto, not holding back at all.

“Feel good?”Lewis laid you back, your head dipping between the pillows.

He was quick to get you out of your panties, he was quick to press his cock to your twitching clit. A steady hand dragged his cock up and down your folds, the cock catching on your bud each time. 

“Sir…” You whined, you needed his fat cock so bad. You needed to be plugged up before you sprang a leak. when your drippy cunt squelched, the slick, gushy sounds went straight to his cock as it jumped.

Up and down, up and down. Lewis guided his cock over your clit, and past your fleshy folds, teasing your needy hole by stretching you out with just the tip. Then he pulled out. When he finally fucking pushed into your warmth, you squeezed him tight, he sank in till all of him was wrapped up in your cunt.

The momentarily neglected video suddenly emitted the moans of you two. You reflexively raised your eyes to see Lewis fully inserting his shaft into your pussy.

“It’s all in.”

The feeling of the cock entering you made you toss your head back and moan, bit your lip and didn’t breath as Lewis inched deeper.

“Mmm...You’re so big, ahh, I like it.”

“You were so honest about it... Is alcohol really that magical?” Lewis teased as slowly pulled his dick out and then pushed it back in making your wet pussy sputter out the sound you both loved hearing so much.

Fuck... Is it because of doggy style? Lewis were particularly vigorous today, thrusting exceptionally deep.

“Ahhhh! O-Ohh god!” Your eyes rolled back when Lewis’s hand held onto your waist as he moved inside you in a fast and rough pace as his other hand pulled your hair making you arch your back making him hit a really good spot.

You felt him slightly pull his cock out before ramming back inside making you moan out loud because of the sudden pleasure, his shaft reached so deep because of a one deep thrust.

During sex, Lewis was very good at praising. Or rather, he was someone who frequently gave compliments even in everyday situations, but during sex, he was more straightforward with his praise, saying exactly what he felt. Even in the current video, his compliments were non-stop—

“Your pussy is so good…”

“You’re so delicious babe... I could fuck you all day…”

“Look at you, my beautiful gooey slit…”

These deep, seductive whispers, like the voice of a god of desire, swirled around in your mind, turning your rationality into chaos... There’s no need to even look at the video; just the sound alone was enough to intoxicate you. You closed your eyes drowsily, involuntarily matching Lewis’s pelvic thrusts, chasing after pleasure, indulging in the sensation...

“You’re silent today, huh?” Lewis bit down on your neck, leaving it all puffy. His pace slowed, focusing on giving it to you slow and deep, circling his hips so you felt every inch of him. The slow, sticky grind made a wet noise.

Your legs were now shaking as you were already nearing your climax. You tightly gripped the sheets.

“Ohh! D-Don’t hit me there t-too much!”You exclaimed as he continuously hit your favorite spot. He leaned on your back and grabbed your chin making you tilt your head to his direction. His big hand grabbed your tits as he pinched your nipple.

“You’re making me cum, little slut.” Lewis whispered and his thrusts became sloppier, you held onto his thighs, burying your nails in them. “A-Ahh! P-Please! Please! Ohh god!”

"Please what baby?" He teased.

“P-Please let me cum… Let me cum sir—ahh!” You loudly moaned when he moved inside you ruthlessly as his other hand found its way to your clit.

“Then cum. Cum with me.” Lewis sucked on your neck while thrusting as deep and quickly as he could to bring himself to an orgasm. His grunts of power echoed through the room and mix with yours. As you were fucked to an earth shattering climax, he erupted inside of you.

“Y/N, open your eyes.”

Your eyes barely opened, and you saw yourself on the video squirting gently, your legs convulsed spasmodically, your pussy continued dripping.

Your ass was still red, Lewis spread you open to see how your cunt gaped, empty without his fat cock, his seed dribbled out as your pussy contracted, spilling down your ass crack.

As your breathing gradually calmed, the room became quiet.

“Can I film your little hole?”

Both of you instantly turned towards the only source of sound in the room. On the video was an obviously just-squirted you.

The camera shook for a moment, and Lewis’s voice came through again:

“Oh, it’s twitching...”

You weakly emitted a groan. The camera shook again, and your ass and thighs appeared in the frame. Lewis’s fingers, coated with cum, entered the frame, gently stroking the entrance a few times before spreading it open with two fingers, aiming the camera there.

You leaned into Lewis’s embrace, burying your head in his neck, refusing to look. Meanwhile, the voice on the video, now synced with him nibbling your earlobe, said:

“I really love you. I love you the most.”

The video ended there. Lewis gently kissed the top of your head, his hand smoothing over your back. From his neck, a muffled voice emerged:

“I love you too.”

“Yeah, that’s it, the boys are gonna lose their minds.”

“Suck on it, good girl…”

“Ahhh, you are so hot, looking up at me like that, choking on my cock…”

“Ohh, when the boys see this, they are going to get rock hard…”

“Do you like that? my friends watching a video of you sucking me?”

#lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 smut #lewis hamilton imagine

[bellatrixscurls]

two ghosts | part 11

part one

James looks up at him with hope, and Sirius grins widely. “Look at you, you are the sweetest boy I’ve ever met. So pretty as well” Sirius’ tatted hand cups James’ soft, pale cheek and the younger boy melts against his skin. “Yeah?” he breathes, batting his eyelashes at Sirius, who nods proudly.

But when Sirius notices that James’ hand is moving up his thigh, he removes his hand from his cheek and stands up, walking towards a smaller chest of drawers, where you keep his clean clothes for when he comes over.

James’ breath hitches and tears start pooling at his eyes. He tries to be quiet, but you are still beside him and hear it. “What is it, sweet boy?” you ask, frowning.

He just shakes his head, burying his face into your soft pillow. “M sorry” he sobs, his tears most definitely soaking your pillow.

“Sorry?” you ask and he hums, still not looking at you. “Tried to touch Siri” he admits, “you have.. you’ve just been so good to me, I-”

“Oh, love, I’m not upset with you. I mean, who wouldn’t want to touch Siri?” you joke and he giggles softly, lifting his head from the pillow.

“Okay I’m back and I got you my shirt and this pair of boxers, I hope they fit you- Hey, why are you crying?” Sirius came back with a light yellow shirt, a deep frown settled on his face.

You share a look with him and his shoulders drop, immediately falling to his knees in front of James. His thumbs rubbed the boy’s hands comfortingly. “Thinking of her? Listen, I know it hurts, but maybe Lily isn’t─”

“It’s not about fucking Lily!” James finally snaps and Sirius’ eyes widen as he glances at you, and then back at the boy. James’ cheeks turn crimson and he starts shifting uncomfortably, as if wanting to leave. But you don’t let him.

Your delicate fingers wrap around his wrist and you tug him so he lays with his face against your chest, your other hand running through his mess of curls. James freezes for a few moments, you can feel it. He goes stiff, his arms tense as they press into the mattress, but immediately goes soft and melts into you.

“Tell us what you feel, baby boy. We want to know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours” you whisper soothingly, the tip of your fingers pressing gently against his scalp.

He sighs and Sirius looks at you alarmedly, unsure of what to do or what was happening. What could possibly get the poor boy to be so upset? He was better just moments ago.

“You have welcomed me here with you both..” he turns to eye Sirius for a moment, who’s biting on his lip as if he wants to rip it. “And I love you, I always have” he draws out his words, softly nosing at your exposed skin.

You let him have his moment and he is grateful for it. But who doesn’t?

“Prongs, I’m freaking out over here” Sirius finally snaps, his tone still gentle though, but his eyes wide as his hands are twitching at his sides.

James looks up, baby blue eyes red from crying. He smiles softly at Sirius, adoringly... but it only lasts for so long. “I don’t want to intrude.. I don’t want you to feel like you have to baby me now” he sighs, and you feel him leave your warmth, propping himself up on his elbows. “You are my friends, I don’t know what has gotten into me.”

You can tell that he is frustrated, and even in the state that he is in, Sirius can as well. His cheeks are crimson red, his hair messier than usual and he just seems so lost. His eyes seem to look for something, but he is unsure of what.

“Well... friends kiss too sometimes” Sirius shrugs and James grins widely, finally sparing him one more glance. “You think so?”

And with that, your boyfriend presses his lips to him for a moment, and a soft whimper escapes from James’ lips. When Sirius pulls away, the younger boy is in a daze, his eyes wide and his lips forming into an ‘o’ shape. You look down at him, and then up at Sirius, who gives you a knowing look.

After a moment, you guide him by his jaw to meet your own lips, trusting Sirius’ instinct. His lips are soft and you can feel him melting into the kiss. You are not cruel, you let him have a moment. He savours your lips, licking at your bottom lip and softly sinking his teeth into it, as if testing the waters. James seems to enjoy it, and you are sure of it the moment his hands find home on your waist, playing with the hem of your shirt.

You want to keep going but he is just too much. You can feel how gently he is handling you, but even the thought of kissing the boy is overwhelming, let alone actually doing it. So you pull away from his lips, and he blinks at you.

His lips are blood red. “Woah” he almost whispers, his eyes welling up with tears. He is inert.

“Oh yeah? You like that? Think about what she could do to your body” Sirius laughs, and you can tell he is only half joking. He doesn’t want to rush James, but he wishes for him to want those things. Well, all in good time─

“Please” it comes out as a needy whimper, and Jamie’s eyes are shifting rapidly between you and your boyfriend. Sirius’ eyes widen, but a wide grin slowly takes over his shocked expression.

“Tell us exactly what you need, baby” Sirius commands rather sternly, but you can tell he is just really desperate. Unfortunately, James can’t. So he hurries to answer, his head hanging low.

“Want to get off” he blushes, one of his hands coming up to ruffle his hair. “I want.. I want you to play with me and Y/n/n to...” and when he looks up at you, he can see you have unbuttoned your shirt, your tits spilling out of it slightly.

Sirius smirks, letting out a mocking ‘aweee’, and you glare at him just slightly. “Awh look, baby, he likes your tits just as much as I do” he pats James on the cheek, and he is right, the boy looks like he is drooling. “Mm no. Maybe even more.”

You giggle softly and James smiles at that, he feels like he is falling. As he is distracted, Sirius undresses him, throwing his clothes somewhere around the room, leaving James naked. But the boy is too preoccupied to notice, as you get closer to him, laying in one elbow and pulling your top down just enough for your tits to show perfectly.

“Ow!” James whines as Sirius tugs at his cock harshly, wide eyes meeting his.

“Ah, sorry” your boyfriend muses, looking uninterested as he takes the bespectacled boy’s cock in his hand, stroking it gently at first.

James grumbles, mouth latching around your nipple, his other hand taking care of your unattended tit. You can feel him moan against you as Sirius speeds up his movements, murmuring soft ‘please’s and ‘oh siri’s.

“Feels so good” he whispers, looking down at Sirius who is looking right back at him. And you know your boyfriend, he is no less than a tease.

You can see him smirk, through your lashes, and then James feels a wet mouth on the tip of his cock. Sirius.

“Fuck! Fuck f-fuck shit” James cries out, his eyes in tears as his nails dig into the soft flesh of your waist and arm.

“Sirius” you laugh breathily, kissing the poor boy’s head and holding him close to you as you shake your head at your boyfriend. “That’s how he is, love. A fucking tease.”

Sirius keeps working his mouth on James, watching both of you intently. “M gonna cum” the blue-eyed boy whimpers against you, unable to even suck on your tits anymore, even though that’s what he so desperately wants.

“You can, pretty boy” you coo at him, moving a stray curl from his face, giving your boyfriend a warning look. “Right, Siri?”

He rolls his eyes, pushing himself to take all of James’ dick down his throat, his eyes watering just slightly as the boy whimpers, dick pulsing down Sirius’ throat. “I’m-mhmm” he cries out, shaking as he cums, shooting his load for your boyfriend to savour. “Thank you thank you! Thank you.”

Sirius pulls away, and you can tell his mouth is still full when he towers over you, knees on either side of your waist as he uses one finger to tap at your lips. You open slightly and he leans in, kissing you and his tongue pokes into your mouth, helping you swallow James’ load, saving some for himself.

You moan at the taste and Jamie’s eyes widen, he gasps softly, making Sirius pull away from you to laugh at him. “You like this. You fucking slut.”

#prongsfoot #prongsfoot x reader #prongsfoot smut #harry potter smut #harry potter fluff #harry potter x reader #james potter x reader #james potter smut #sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #sirius black fluff #james potter fluff

[k-hotchoisan]

7 minutes in heaven (Mingix fem! Reader)

Synopsis: a game of spin the bottle lands on you and Song Mingi for a dare of 7 minutes in heaven.

Right. We all know what’s coming.

Genre/warnings: sexual tension, sex, obviously, unprotected sex, orgasms, hickeys, cream pies, dirty talk, pet names (princess)

Word count: 2.3K

A/n: I just found out like what 7 minutes in heaven meant from my friends and I was instantly like “it’s basically sex???” Bro she was just tired of me at this point.

Also this is pretty fucking filthy. I would love Song fucking Mingi to ruin me like that too. ❤️

Spin the bottle, spin the fucking bottle.

“Oh come on. Just fucking come!” San whines. “You have me there! And Song Mingi is coming!”

“Song Mingi? Why the hell is he going?” You whip your head at San.

“‘Cause he’s Yunho’s friend?” San answers matter-of-factly, scrunching his eyebrows at you. “And he’s your crush?”

“Oh my god, San. Fuck off”, you wave him off in annoyance. As much as he was right, you hated that he was right. You and Mingi’s friendship started through mutual friends, and for some reason, it seemed that you fell for him during the course of the friendship. And you hated that, because the basis of the friendship was just extreme playfulness and constantly getting on each other’s nerves.

On that one time when Yunho teased Mingi about the both of you being a couple, Mingi smacked Yunho, outright denying any ounce of feelings between the both of you.

So now, it was two things—seething hatred and an ugly crush—the biggest paradox of feelings you’ve ever had. You spent the past few weeks lessening your meet ups with Mingi, and he didn’t question why.

And now suddenly a party that he’s gonna be at? No fucking way. San doesn’t relent though, for some reason he was hell-bent on getting you to come, and he wouldn’t tell you exactly why.

“What would it take for you to come?” San questions as he leans into your shoulder, giving you the puppy eyes that could never out-do Yunho’s.

“Five hundred bucks,” you answer, pinching his nose as he winces in pain, slapping your hand away.

“Yeah right”, San rolls his eyes. “I’ll introduce you to someone, okay?”

That isn’t the main point but you sense San’s sincerity, so you decide to humour him.

Little did you know that it would snowball to whatever had happened.

Your arm is hooked around San as the both of you enter Yunho’s spacious apartment, greeting the people as the both of you slither past them to look for the host. San spots Yunho from a distance and waves to him to get his attention. Yunho turns his head and pats the guy beside him to get his attention.

And it was Mingi.

Mingi has an unreadable expression the moment his eyes land on you, noticing your hand around San’s arm. He gives a small smile as the both of you walk over to greet Yunho.

“Hey. I’m glad you made it”, Yunho greets, giving San a hug as San removes himself from you, and then patting your head. Mingi still has his eyes on you, and you pretend not to notice.

“Yeah, I had to hold her at gunpoint for her to come”, San jokes, using your head as an arm rest. You roll your eyes.

“Damn. You really didn’t want to see me that much?” Yunho asks, pressing his palm against his chest, acting heartbroken. You playfully give him a light shove.

“It’s been awhile, y/n. Nice seeing you again”, Mingi chimes in, giving you a smile. You stare back, exchanging a small smile back at him. It had definitely been a couple of weeks since you contacted him, since the bullshit he spout.

“We’re going to play Spin the Bottle now, and you came just in time for that. San, y/n, you wanna join?”

Your gaze holds Mingi’s, almost challenging him and your grip tightens around San’s arm.

“Sure. Sounds fun.”

A circle quickly forms as everyone sits, there is about seven people in the circle, a mix of girls and guys, including you and Mingi, both of you sitting across each other. The game goes on pretty normally in the first hour, but as the drinks started flowing in, the questions and dares starting getting more spicy.

In the fourth round, the bottle spins, and it lands on Mingi.

“Truth”, Mingi says.

San pushes the question, “Have you liked anyone in the friend group before.”

You don’t catch Mingi’s gaze at you because you were too busy whispering something to San.

“Yeah.” A few “ooohs” echo in the room and you purse your lips in curiosity.

A few rounds later, the bottle spins, and it lands on you.

“Truth”, you say.

Yunho rubs his hands. “Is there anyone in the room that you wanna kiss?”

Fuck. The alcohol was definitely kicking in, but not enough for you drunkenly answer right away. You really wanted to lie.

Everyone had their eyes on you, curious of your answer, especially Mingi. He’s quiet, his gaze piercing into you, and you catch wind of it. Your anxiety slowly dissipates as you decide to be smug with that motherfucker. You know he’s gazing at you, and you hold the stare before shifting your gaze to San, who was fighting for his life with the alcohol, before saying, “Yes.”

Considering that your small gaze towards San wasn’t missed out by majority of the players, they laugh and clap their hands, evidently fooled by you. You smile as you sip your alcohol.

The bottle spins. And it lands on Mingi.

“Dare”, he says, almost too confidently.

Hongjoong immediately pushes, “Seven minutes in Heaven, to whoever the bottle lands on.”

Mingi scoffs, feeling confident, as he reaches for the bottle to spin it.

It spins, and it the neck lands on you. Your eyes widen in shock because you really did not expect that. Mingi has that unreadable expression on his face again, before Hongjoong smacks his back, reminding him of his dare. The players roar in excitement and whistles.

Seven minutes of being trapped in a room with each other.

Your mind is racing, but you tell yourself, anything could happen, including non-sexual things. The both of you could just sit alone together, albeit in a little bit of awkwardness, and just wait for the seven minutes to pass. Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad.

You and Mingi stay seated on the bed of a guest room, not saying anything to each other.

Seven minutes start.

“Are you avoiding me?” He asks after long pause.

“No?” You lie too quickly.

“Then why haven’t you been replying to my texts? We used to hang out so much.”

“I was just busy.”

“Liar.”

You glare at him, and he holds the stare.

“You’re finally looking at me properly”, he says, and your heartbeat ups another notch.

“Did I do something to upset you?”

Not really. You couldn’t really blame him, but at the same time, what happened genuinely did make you upset.

“No”, you reply, turning away, only for his fingers grab your chin.

He sighs. “Please stop looking away from me. It’s driving me crazy.”

Good. That’s cause he deserves it. The way his fingers are pressing onto your chin was starting to make you heat up.

“No. It’s mostly a me problem”, you vaguely tell him. “You sure you’re okay with doing this when you have a crush within the friend group?” You ask, as you lie onto the cold sheets.

Mingi doesn’t answer you, but he towers over you, looking at you with some sort of lust and desire—it was looking very dangerous.

“I’ll answer you non-verbally, if I get your consent”, he responds, his breathing getting heavier. You decided to take him on and nod.

He leans in and kisses you, feeling every part of your mouth, as he groans into your mouth. The alcoholic taste lingers, mixed with his saliva, tasted strangely sweet. He pulls your shirt off as you unbuckle his jeans.

The way his wet and leaking cock presses onto his underwear fucking scares you because he was so fucking big. He tugs your bottoms and undergarments off, almost too desperately, then soaking his fingers with his spit as he starts rubbing your clit slowly. Electric pulses through your spine, in pleasure as your back arches, and soft moans are leaving you.

He plunges in both hands when he deems you wet enough and you cry out as his fingers curl into you.

Five minutes.

He continues to fuck you with his fingers and you hands claw his arms, desperate for something more hotter, and bigger.

He pulls out, leaving you clenching at nothing. Mingi’s underwear is removed way too quickly and you gasp at his length and girth. He was not fucking around. He wraps his hands around his cock and pumps it a few times, giving you a small show of his groans and small bucking hips.

Four minutes.

Mingi lift your legs to his shoulder as you lay on your side as he slides his cock into you, before fucking you into the bed, his grunts and moans filling up the room. Fuck. His cock is too fucking big. It’s just dragging against every single nerve in your wall. Your hands were gripping onto the sheets, as you fail to keep your composure, and your moans.

“Fuck. You’re so tight”, Mingi exhales as he pulls out before slamming into you again as he drinks your whimpers and cries. “So fucking good.”

He lets your leg fall, and he fucks you from behind, his hands gripping your hips. Your limbs were starting to feel numb from the pleasure. He stops for a second before grabbing your waist, to put your back to lie against his chest. This only fucks up your sanity because his cock was stuffing your wet and abused cunt from the bottom.

“Mingi, it’s too much—fuck—so fucking big”, you cry out, your mind going hazy as he sucks against the skin on your neck. Your head was lolled back, and your eyes are rolled back too, feeling nothing but the sensation of Mingi’s cock going in and out of your hole, as you cream on his cock. Fuck, it felt like heaven.

“Such a good girl. Keep moaning for me”, Mingi hums as he, himself, also was struggling to form coherent thoughts as you were squeezing him out. His moans were trapped in your head because his lips were close to your ear. His fingers pinching your nipples before slapping your cunt gently, causing you to squeal and tighten around him and his voice goes up and octave.

“We have three more minutes,” Mingi says, his eyes glancing at the small timer facing the both of you. “We should really at least finish it with something good—like this”, he says as pushes into you so deeply and your body becomes paralysed, his cock slightly bulging your abdomen, your mouth is open but no sound is coming out. Your thighs tremble as tears pool at the corner of your eyes. Your pussy flutters around his cock as your orgasm hits you in waves. Mingi thrusts in you shallowly, his full cock still deep in you.

“Y/n, you’re creaming so much. It feels so fucking good. I’m gonna cum too, Princess”, he encourages, rubbing your clit in slow circles, tightening another knot in your abdomen.

Two minutes.

Mingi just wants to continue fucking into you until he’s satisfied, and once you feel his cock twitch in you, you know he’s close.

“So tell me, who was it did you want to kiss between the guys?” He suddenly asks, slowly decelerating his thrusts, and you were about to lose your fucking mind.

“Was it Choi fucking San?” He asks, his fingers cupping your chin to ensure you face him. He smiles, loving how fucked out you looked, ruined by him. “Tell me, princess.”

He pulls out in such a slow and painful speed that your thighs tremble from the way his cock just drags against your walls.

His grip on your cheeks lower to your neck, and he gently squeezes.

“Answer me”, he demands.

One minute.

“Fuck—it’s you. It’s fucking Song Mingi!” You cry out, craving his cock to fill you up like cockslut you were.

His eyes grow wild as he lets go of your throat , his hands slithering to your bottom of your thighs, spreading them even more as he bottoms out in you, slamming his cock right into you until you start seeing fucking stars behind your eyelids.

“Good girl. Take my fucking cum”, he says as he fucks into you one more time, his cock squirting strings of cum right into your pussy as your second orgasm overwhelms you, leaving you whimpering and shaking from the overstimulation as Mingi empties in you.

The timer goes off, the alarm annoyingly loud. Mingi gingerly pulls out of you as you twitch, and lets your head rest on the pillows. Your cunt was still throbbing, as it flutters at nothing while Mingi’s cum leaks out of you. He looks at you and smirks, like you are his favourite masterpiece. He inches forward and presses his lips onto yours as he strokes your hair.

“That’s my princess. I think it’s pretty obvious but I like you. I really, fucking like you”, he confesses. As you were about to reply through half-lidded eyes, the door knocks.

Mingi pulls the sheets over you before answering the door. Yunho had his arms crossed and his eyebrow raised. He spots you heaving softly against the guest bed and immediately puts two and two together.

“She’s not playing anymore,” Mingi answers, blocking his view.

Yunho scoffs. “Took the both of you fucking long enough. The tension was crazy. We’re going to get more drinks so the both of you can continue your own little game.”

Mingi laughs as Yunho leaves, before shutting the door behind him.

He stares at you, curled up in bed, still looking dazed, and walks over to you. He pulls the sheets off, and a mix of his cum and your arousal just dripping past your inner thighs, red flushing your ass and your cheeks.

Mingi licks his lips, suddenly hungry again as he towers over you to spread your legs once more, pushing in a finger way too easily, the sounds of his cum squelching out of your pussy as your eyes roll back again. His fingers cup your chin, forcing you to face his lustful gaze.

“Seven minutes are up but now we’ve got all the time in the world, princess. I’ll show what real heaven feels like.”

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #smut #ateez fic #kpop fic #kpop smut #ateez Mingi #song mingi #mingi x reader #mingi smut #mingi x y/n

[missmeinyourbones]

CLEAN ME UP 

c/w: established relationship, hurt/comfort, light mentions of blood and injury, atsumu lowkey gets his ass beat </3 but he is so sweet

Atsumu sits crisscrossed on the floor of your bathroom with a tender black eye and a busted lip—and though this should be a rare thing, you need all five fingers to count the number of times you’ve seen this film before.

The first two were ages ago, high school days when he and Osamu couldn’t stop themselves from throwing a punch or two over nothing at all. Their egos too big and brains too small, twice you'd gotten roped into their post-brawl aftercare. Another time it was a fight off the court, when a rival captain made a snide remark about his foul accent. The fourth, a drunken, immature mistake.

Tonight’s wounds are different. Because when Atsumu nonchalantly shows up black and blue at your door, he doesn’t tell you what happened. There’s no story attached to the bruises he bares, no lengthy explanations or excuses. And Atsumu is a lot of things, but speechless is never one of them. 

He looks childish, you think, the way his broad body folds itself into a tiny pretzel and hardly takes up a corner of your tiled floor. He’s oddly quiet, too. Sure, you heard his witty comments down the hallway about how you should see the other guy, but something’s still off. His eyes aren't lit with their usual flame of youth, pride. 

Only a few words are exchanged through the process of cleaning him up. Between wet washcloths and tiny sniffles, Atsumu fumes, You haven't asked enough questions yet, and it’s beginning to freak him out. He doesn't know whether or not he should be grateful or unsettled with your silence.

A frozen bag of vegetables presses against his left eyelid when you finally ask, "What the hell did you do this time?"

Atsumu smiles at the mere sound of your voice, an instant warmth against the burning ice on his body. "Why's it always my fault?"

You remove the bag from his brow to shoot him a look, that look. He knows better than to argue with that look. Arguing with that look gets him nothing but trouble and an achy back from a night on the couch. So, he diverts. 

"Nothing,” he sulks. “He started it, and—"

"—And you finished it, right?" 

Your words are meant to be sarcastic, at his dispense of how stupid he behaved, but Atsumu doesn't take them as such. Instead, at your interruption, he shoots you an earnest smile filled with satisfaction and dried blood stretched across his chapped lips.  

"See? So smart, baby." 

His hand rises to pet your chin but you lean back quick enough to dodge his caress. His eyes fall to the bag of vegetables that now sits by your lap. 

“Atsumu,” you try again, foreboding. 

He rolls his head back in a huff against the bench of the bathtub, and the ceramic feels warm against his neck compared to the still stinging chill on his eye. 

“What was I supposed to do? They were bein’ assholes.”

His whole team had gone out drinking tonight for a celebratory round or five, followed by a few days off. And as charming as Atsumu is, he does have his foes. People in the volleyball world he’s not the biggest fan of, for reasons he doesn’t seem to discuss with you. He likes to leave it at his good intuition, something you know he lacks.  

With the context clues provided, you can think of two or three people he’s implying. 

His reasoning is flawed, to say the least, but the way he says it has your heart breaking in the slightest. He avoids eye contact, as if he's embarrassed, dancing around the subject and wishing the ground to swallow him whole. 

His shyness has you trying a softer approach. 

“Everyone is an asshole,” you whisper, lightly returning pressure to his eye with the makeshift ice, “if punching assholes was reasonable, I’d do it all the time.”

Atsumu smiles a bit at that, but you catch how he winces slightly at the movement. 

“Yer so funny, baby,” he tries to trail off. “Funniest person I—”

“Miya,” comes his second warning, and by the look in your eye, he’s not brave enough to try for a third.

“Fine,” he grumbles, “but when yer a Miya, I’m playing that card on you, too. Y’know that, right?” 

You nod, and whether it's to his proposal or to encourage his words, you don't know. But it works, because Atsumu takes a deep breath and stares at the ceiling again. 

“This time was different, okay?”

His tone is eerily soft. One only you get the privilege of hearing, and not because it's out of love, but because it's out of hate. Something’s shaken him so bad, he’s almost been rendered speechless. 

“How was it different?”

“They were talking about you,” he shakily exhales. “Sayin’ stupid shit that isn’t true.”

Your heart softens as you do your best to keep a strong facade, but maybe Atsumu does have good intuition, as his hand squeezes yours through the quick moment of silence. 

“If it’s not true, then it shouldn't have mattered, right?” you try.

“No,” he’s quick to work himself up again, eyes finding yours. “Like hell was I gonna let ‘em keep talking about you like that, ‘specially when I’m right fuckin’ there.” 

Your fingers lightly skim his jaw, nowhere sensitive but he jumps all the same. You apply pressure to tilt his head, forcing him to find your gaze. He does.

“Do you want to tell me what they said?”

Atsumu gaze softens, and after a moment of thinking, he shakes his head. 

“No,” he decides, “I don’t.” 

His eyes fall to your lips and back up to your eyes. “Do you want to know?”

You smile at his sincerity. Atsumu, who you know to be just as sweet as he is boisterous, would tell you if you asked. He’d do anything you ask. But, you decide against it. 

“No. No, I don’t.” 

Atsumu exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding as he lets his head nuzzle against your palm. Contrary to the ice, it's warm and soft on his skin. He thinks it could heal wounds faster than any bag of broccoli ever could. 

“I trust you,” he hears you coo into his hairline, kisses now dancing along his forehead and jaw, “even if you do have the emotional intelligence of a middle school boy, sometimes.”

Astumu hmphs at your words, simultaneously agreeing and brushing you off. He doesn't care enough to bicker, right now. He doesn’t need to tell you about how the man from the bar was talking about you. About how easy you’d be to persuade into bed. About how you're just with Atsumu for his flashy perks and award winning smile. 

He doesn't need to because he knows they're wrong. Because they don't see these moments, when Atsumu sits on the ledge of your empty bathtub. With popped blood vessels and tender welts, those men don't melt beneath your careful fingertips or soothing pecks. 

He doesn't have to say anything, because you trust him. You trust Atsumu, and it's the one thing in this world he knows to be true. 

He lifts his head up from your hold to find your lips. 

“I jus’ love you,” he insists, lightly pressing himself to you with such caution, “so much.” 

And if there’s one thing in this world you know to be true, it's that Miya Atsumu loves you.   

#atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #miya atsumu x you #atsumu angst #atsumu fluff #miya atsumu fluff #miya astumu angst #atsumu fic #miya atsumu fic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu atsumu

[lunarw0rks]

Too Old For You // Part Two

Summary: You've been crushing on him for a while now, even going as far as taking a stab for him. But it isn't enough for him to notice you; you're too young, too nice for someone like him.

Warning(s): explicit content (18+), strong language, age gap [reader is early twenties, ghost is mid/late thirties], mild injury/blood, sexual harassment, hurt/comfort, smut, oral sex, face sitting, p in v sex, unsafe sex, oral fixation, medic!reader, fem!reader

Word Count: 5.5k ˖⁺‧₊˚ A/N: This took FOREVER, but I think it's worth it. Not Proofread! ₊‧⁺˖

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST // have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX | AO3 VER | PART ONE .ˎˊ˗

To be honest, you were making your best effort to forget about yesterday. Sure, it was a loss of your dignity to be rejected — but you hadn’t done anything truly wrong. What could he do to publicly embarrass you? Tell everyone he walked out on the person who took a knife wound for him? What a prick he would be, then.

Plus, Simon was never the type to air out his dramas. Especially involving you, who deserved to move on and find someone better. If only it were that simple.

There was little time to dwell — a trauma was coming in.

The second you were focused on a patient; any other life problem was pushed to the back burner. After the other day, that was a blessing. Sure enough, seconds after you got the comm, the infirmary doors swung open. It was a typical sight; the wounded soldier fighting the aid of the medics, on the verge of being sedated to ensure his care was given without mistake. You sterilized your hands briefly, finding the nearest box of disposable gloves and slipping them on. Whatever happened to the man, it sounded agonizing.

However, the grunting and complaining sounded familiar, too familiar. It was Simon.

That sentiment about forgetting about your problems when tending to a patient? It vanished at the speed of light when you peeled back the curtain, seeing that it indeed was him bleeding out on the table. He didn’t want the help, but he needed it.

Maybe he really didn’t want to see you — to the level of finding hemorrhaging more preferable than letting you tend to him, let alone speak to him. Though, it seemed more likely he could not show weakness, even when he had a bullet in him.

You peeled back the privacy curtain, greeted with a well-acquainted scowl of distaste. He didn’t want you here, to see him like this. Unlike him, you could separate personal feelings from your work. Simon should know how to do that by now, but it’s clear he doesn’t.

“You need to relax and let me help you.” He rejected you — doesn’t mean you’re going to take pleasure in watching him writhe. It was your sworn duty to treat everyone, unfortunately.

Simon wanted to argue. It was obvious with the way the fabric of his mask moved, failing to conceal the clench of his jaw. You sat across from him, wheeling one of the trauma case carts beside you, “I need you to relax.” His heavy breaths weren’t from pain, he was cursing himself for catching a bullet and ending up here. He was more enraged at himself for forcing you into tending to him. He was the last person you wanted to see right now… right?

Oh, how he despised being vulnerable, even when there was no other way. With a sigh, he removed the hand putting pressure on his shoulder. He was extremely fortunate — it had missed his arteries, and from what you could see, had an exit wound.

By the time you had your eyes on the hole, you had inserted a local anesthetic to keep the area numb. Strangely enough, Ghost flinched more when you leaned in to inject the needle than when you touched the tender area. He recoiled but wasn’t going to decline medicated relief.

“Can you feel that?” You asked, pressing the pad of your gloved fingers to the outer edge of the wound. It seemed that even if he did, you wouldn’t have gotten an answer. With a shake of your head, you merely began the routine of disinfecting the wound to start. Though you were careful, you wanted this ordeal to be over.

Once you moved on from dabbing at it with swabs, you met his gaze again, finally reciprocating the stare that hadn’t broken. “You’ll be fine.” You said, moving with haste as you got a suture kit ready. Any other day, the stare would send chills up your spine. Not today.

“Not why I was looking,” Simon grumbled, now instead watching the needle thread through his flesh. You didn’t even try to hide your eye roll at the sudden mood change. It wasn’t endearing anymore; it was irksome. Your sutures were about halfway done on the entrance wound, and you couldn’t have been more thankful for that.

The med bay went silent again, except for the occasional hiss from his clothed lips, or the creaking on the stool you were sitting on. The area around the wound was pinkish and inflamed, but not a tear, luckily. If he took his antibiotics, you wouldn’t have to see him much after this. You eventually found yourself behind him to examine the exit wound, a rinse and repeat of disinfecting and then stitching.

Only, this time, the infirmary wasn’t silent for long.

His words came after the last stitch when you placed a bandage over the now-healing wound, “look, ‘m sorry for yesterday, alright?”

Simon watched your scowl intently. It wasn’t one of distaste, not even irritation — it was loathing for yourself. You didn’t deserve to feel that way, especially at his expense. But no apologizing would make the initial sting of rejection go away. You weren’t a child, nor were you a fool; you wouldn’t have pursued him if you weren’t sure of what you wanted.

With a small ‘hm’ in response, you finished the last of his dressings, ripping the disposable gloves off your hands and tossing them into the trash. Your feet darted across the tile floors as you disposed of the contaminated linen and instruments, merely moving around the Lieutenant like he was an object. An inconvenience, for making you want him so badly. You voicelessly went over to the counter in the infirmary, resuming the charting you were occupied with before he was rushed into your care. Still, with your back turned to him, his eyes were boring holes into you. He didn’t need to be there; he was free to go. But he didn’t, and it was aggravating.

One minute you were beaming for the exit, the next his hand clamped around your arm, preventing you from making your exit. “Just… stop. For a minute.” He says, releasing the hand when you look down at how tightly he was gripping you.

“Hold this against me all you want, alright? Hate me, I don’t care.” Simon sighed, rolling his injured shoulder slightly from the strain of getting up too quickly. His feet dragged slightly as he made his way toward the door, standing by the exit of the med bay.

“One day you’ll wise up and realize I’m not what you need, Kid. Think about it, at least.” The door to the infirmary came to a slow close behind him, a disheartening contrast to the slam he left you with yesterday.

『♡』•『♡』•『♡』•『♡』

Weeks passed and the initial sting of the Simon situation had begun to dilute itself.

You spent most evenings passing up a night out; instead, you were working on the piles of charts that needed filling out, or something as mundane as taking inventory for the infirmary. Tasks that are mind-numbing enough to keep your mind on work, and only work. If your goal was to forget your feelings, you failed. If it was to spend enough time alone to truly know what you wanted, you won that one.

For the first time in a while, you were caught up on the workload. The bliss of free time wouldn’t last long, so perhaps that’s why you decided to go out for drinks. Maybe you just wanted to wallow in self-pity; the root explanation didn’t matter.

It was the least they could do — considering how often you’d kept an artery from spurting blood or the number of times you’d had to fight their squirming while attempting delicate sutures. Sergeant MacTavish especially, if you were being honest. He was the worst of your patients, except for the obvious masked brooding one.

Now, you found yourself perched on a bar stool, where you’d remained stoic for about two hours now. So deep in focus, you didn’t even recognize the drink in your hands. One of the guys had asked if you wanted one, you nodded, and now here you were. On your third one. The third time you merely took what was slid across the bar top and sipped on it, no matter how much the bitter taste made your taste buds cringe.

“Can I top you off?” The bartender made his rounds again, using a rag to wipe off the surrounding countertops. Your eyes looked off to the side, observing different levels of intoxication from both the 141 and the other rowdy patrons.

The night was coming to a close, another drink wouldn’t be wise. You weren’t here to get hammered; you were here to be somewhere other than a sterile room. “No, thank you,” you slid your empty glass in his direction, then a healthy tip for the good service. He didn’t once ask why you weren’t interacting with the party you came with, or why your eyes barely looked up from the varnish on the bar. To explain to him why would be downright mortifying, and you were never good at coming up with believable excuses. Therefore, he’d earned the cash tip and then some.

Price and Gaz were the first to leave, after neatly stacking all the empty glasses that covered their booth, of course. Next, the very drunk Sergeant stumbled out of there, making the short walk to his flat to sleep off the intoxication. Surely, he’s going to require a banana bag at the base tomorrow. Around them, the servers had begun stacking the chairs and collecting the tickets to finalize the rest of the unpaid tabs. The perfect time to slip away — right when the mob of drunks huddled around the front door. No questions, no awkward conversations about carpooling; no chance of being in a cab with him again.

The universe must’ve been on your side because there was no sign of Simon currently. Not that you two would have interacted, but it was much easier to walk by an empty seat rather than one occupied by him. The warm lighting dimmed slightly as the lights in the pub were shut off one by one, prompting you to scoot off your stool and get going finally.

Behind you, the door to the men’s room closed with a small squeak, and there he was. His frame cast a large shadow over the dim light the dated sconces produced, as the two of you made brief eye contact. It wasn’t a returned gaze of unnerve or upset, just… nothing. That’s what prompted your final exit from the bar, pushing open the glass door and starting down the pavement. You didn’t mind the walk, either, not after nearly an hour and a half of sitting motionless on an uncomfortable stool.

The streetlights were faulty and had a constant dim flicker. Your only guide was the lights of the few businesses still open and the cool-hued moonlight casting feeble rays on the damp streets.

Your coat was wrapped around you tightly, yet it did little against the chill in the air. So bitter, it felt like it was seeping into your bones. Paired with the unsavory anticipation of walking these streets at night, no amount of warmth could reduce the unease.

From the depths of the darkness, came an unwelcome sound — the crude whistle of a passing car. Your heart skipped a beat, the pace of your steps quickening involuntarily. The eyes on you were that of a malevolent force, one that quite literally came from the shadowy roads around you. As the car crept with wheels at a crawl to remain alongside you, you dared a glance.

A trio of jeering faces with smirks plastered across their lips like badges of dominance. One in the backseat with his upper body hanging out, the man in the passenger seat the worst of them all. Every remark, every innuendo reduces your already fragile sense of security. Your arms folded across your chest as you kept your head down, watching your legs carry you in any direction to get you out of this, no matter what road you ended up on by the end of it.

The harsh glare of the car’s headlights felt like a spotlight, illuminating your vulnerability. In a matter of seconds, you had been reduced to an object. Merely an unwilling participant in their twisted game.

Click—click.

The distinct sound of someone racking the slide of a pistol immediately behind you. “Piss off.”

His familiar voice rang stern and commanding. Your head turned to face Simon, seeing his gun indeed unholstered and held at his side, paired with his puffed chest and furrowed brows. The car's windows rolled up immediately, followed by the whiz of it speeding down the street. Simon watched until the headlights were no longer visible, yet you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

One minute, the echo of words and phrases you never wanted to be repeated. And now, nothing but the woosh of the wind and his heavy labored breathing against his balaclava. For just a moment, nothing that happened between the two of you mattered.

It was just you, astounded and allayed, and him — the savior who wouldn’t have hesitated to crack skulls against the pavement.

“You alright?” He asks, though his eyes remain glued to the sketchy streets around him, searching for any sign of threats. You merely nod, following the motion of his fingers as he flicks the safety back on, placing the piece back into his jacket holster. Nothing sobers you up like the sight of a loaded gun, that was obvious.

It wasn’t exactly your first ordeal with predatory men, but this instance was particularly bleak. Perhaps it was your buzz, perhaps it was the sight of Simon with his pistol at the ready, perhaps it was your adrenaline.

That was just a series of questions better left unanswered.

Silence was the best conversation for someone like Simon, especially given the circumstances. Neither of you was going to complain, nor were you going to force the clichés of fussing over the other. His hand found the small of your back, steering you in the direction of his hotel. He didn't have a flat in town, his only homes were the base or moderately priced suites.

Tonight, it was the latter — the room he booked in anticipation of a night of heavy drinking, even a hookup if the events of this evening were less grim. Though, he hadn’t drunk much of anything, which was rare for him.

The light buzz was the only component you two seemed to have in common, at least from what you could take note of.

His shadow was a looming one; large and overtaking yours as he took meaningful strides down each street, still a guiding hand either hovering or clamping down when you crossed the street. You could protest and insist that you stick to your original plan of walking back to the base. But it was a futile argument to have with Simon, not after the sickening degradation you made it through.

Those men were nothing but large shadows emitted from small men. They would’ve driven away, most likely. However… something happening to you while you’re in his sights? That’s not a gamble the Lieutenant had to consider for long. The only reason he hadn’t stepped in sooner was because you had made it so far down the street in an attempt to avoid him. But when he heard the engine slow to a hum, observing how it matched your speed, those were his brief moments of thought.

Seconds following, the echo of their voices dripping with violent, impure implications — he had unholstered his pistol and power-walked down the street before his mind could catch up. There wasn’t a moment of it he’d do differently.

Not even now, as he’s approaching the door to his room. Not as he’s ushering you inside, espying as you shiver from both the cold and the unease of it all. There wasn’t a chance in hell you were walking that distance.

“The bed’s yours,” Simon mutters, slipping his jacket off his broad shoulders. Though, you’ve made no effort to respond. You’re too lost in focus, palming the icy zipper of your coat and slowly splitting it open, until the weight of it is off you. It’s tossed onto the floor, a defeated crumble — as if even your wardrobe is mocking your numbness.

Your head finally perks up at the sound of Simon sliding the keycard along the oak entry table, followed by the sudden realization that he had said something to you. “I’m sorry, what did you say before?” You sigh, eyes squinted in forced attention.

His head nods in the direction of the bed; plush white sheets that were still fresh and untouched. “I can take the pull-out.” It wasn’t a suggestion, either. Though his tone is as blunt as ever, his gaze is uncharacteristically amicable.

“It’s your room, Ghost. I’m not taking the bed.” You let out a scoff, pulling off your shoes next. The pity wasn’t necessary, nor was it going to be accepted with eagerness.

He let out a lengthy sigh, cringing when you used his callsign. Mainly at himself for being so sharp with you weeks prior and insisting you refrain from using his name. “Don’t argue with me. Take the bed.” He shuffled over to the nightstand, collecting the few belongings that were resting there, then placing them on the entry table.

Well, you had your orders, and you knew by now it was easier to follow them.

Your eyes scanned the suite in front of you; beige walls throughout, a small kitchenette in the corner, one bed and couch, a dated box TV posed in front of the space, and of course, a bathroom. It was clean, which was good enough for both of you. Especially you, right now. “I’m gonna wash up first,” you set down your bag and trudged to the washroom, letting out a defeated exhale when you were finally faced with the reflection in the mirror.

Eyes glossy and foggy with melancholy, hair askew from the unforgiving breeze outside, fingers still shaking as they grip the faux-marble counter.

After wetting a cloth and running some cold tap water along your skin, it was the spark your senses needed to realign. With a deep inhale and exhale, you exited the bathroom, wearing the hotel robe as your nightwear.

“How’s the shoulder?” The question came suddenly, but there were very few topics to discuss with Simon. You stood in between the bed and the pullout couch, the one he had yet to make with the spare sheets. And he, who was in the kitchenette pouring himself a glass of whatever from the fridge's pitcher.

Within the time you were washing up, he had changed into his version of nightwear — sweatpants and a charcoal athletic tee. “Healed just fine. You did well.” Simon makes a show of it, rolling and stretching the shoulder that was once tender and inflamed.

His praises fell short when masked with his scowl. No matter his bluntness, you still felt like an intruder in his evening. He was never one for company, especially in his private space, but here the two of you were. It was a toss-up; should you mention the obvious? Could things get much worse between you and him, by this point?

You leaned against the closest wall. “I’m not a child, you know that right?” Though it sounded confrontational, it was merely a nonchalant utterance. All frustrations spilled out nearly as a defeated mutter.

Simon scoffed heavily; eyes hooded as he blinked a few times to ensure he would articulate himself properly. He lifts his mask and takes a sip of his water, shaking his head as you continue to stare him down. You were persistent, that was apparent.

“You’re right,” he set down his glass, taking a few steps closer. “But you’re a good person. A good doctor.” His hands cupped your cheeks tightly to shake some sense into you. His last-ditch effort to convince you to move on from your feelings. You felt a rush of emotions pumping through you at once, watching intently as he spoke with such vigor. A potent mix of tenderness and firmness — all embodied into one man.

“You can find so much better than me, than this place.” Your lips slumped into a frown as his words persisted as if letting them bounce right off of you. There were so many parts of you that he saw in himself, so violently he couldn’t stay frustrated. “Quit getting in your own way, and you might see it.” His thumbs gave a small caress, and then his eyes glanced you up and down with softness. The irony of it was striking, considering Simon was his own worst enemy, especially right now.

His calloused fingers were like your own personal rush, palpable enough to make your hair stand up. “There’s nobody else I want, Simon.” You replied with a match of firmness, yet your expression was anything but frustrated.

The close proximity was saccharine and keenly awaited by both of you, though only one party was making an effort to show it.

Simon shuddered slightly, his hands running from your cheeks to the base of your neck, then back up once more. “That want is going to be the death of both of us, love.” He said softly as if he was finally accepting the reality of his feelings.

The wise decision to break it off wasn’t weighing on him anymore, not even a little bit.

You stared at him through your lashes, a hint of a smile on your lips, “I’m used to death, Lieutenant, aren’t you?”

This generated a small snicker from him, this time one you could actually see. There had been plenty concealed by his mask over the months. Every bit of you was screaming to lean in, but the longer this banter went on, the better for him. There was no sense in rushing an act that didn’t need to be rushed, especially if it was doomed to happen at some point.

“I wouldn’t even know how to… You— you haven’t done half the things—” His fingers tightened around the base of your neck slightly, head tilted as he made his best attempt at retorting. For someone with such conviction every other time, he was noticeably beating around the bush. It was amusing, to say the least.

He mutters something under his breath, something of an expression of defeat, then leans in until his parted lips are an inch from yours.

“Then teach me.” You breathed, finally allowing your hands to hold onto his wrists as he cupped your face. Simon’s eyes blazed as they met yours — smoky with the intense burn of lust.

Within seconds, his lips found yours with brazen desire. It was everything you pictured it to be and more; every last bit of ego-driven pettiness fizzled out at once. The scent of his last cigarette, his aftershave from that morning, the faint stench of bourbon on his breath — all surrounding you like an enslaving cloud. His fingers roamed again, this time from your shoulders down to your waist until he could fumble with the tie of the robe.

Simon’s feet gave yours a nudge in the direction of the bed behind you, a silent guide until the backs of your knees finally found the edge of it. An arm snaked downward until he could lift one of your legs around his waist, settling his weight on the bed so you were on top of him. Every action was mended with a prolonged, calculated kiss on his end.

The robe had opened entirely, revealing you in nothing but your panties underneath. With more movement, it drooped down your arms until it was eventually thrown off in haste, the same quickness when you slid your undergarments down. But Simon was in no rush, at least not while he was savoring the foreplay. “Scoot up for me,” he mutters, nodding his head upwards subtly. His request is met with a look of confusion, but you do as he says, shifting upwards until you’re straddling his upper torso.

“No. Up.” Simon clamps a hand around your hip, maintaining eye contact as he readjusts you further until your bare cunt is hovering over his face. Now, the realization of his idea strikes you like a bolt of lightning.

There was nothing to be embarrassed about, but that didn’t make the request less daunting. “No one’s ever…” You whisper it as if attempting to admit it without him actually hearing you. But he did, and it made your face head up. Especially now, seeing the mouth to match his eyes — even the tip of his nose, squished slightly from the fold of the fabric.

“Ever what, sweetheart?” He bites down on his bottom lip lightly, rubbing circles on your thighs. Though his eyes are darting from yours to your heat, back and forth as you feel a desperate shiver consume you.

You gave up on answering him, which was only met with a playful scoff. “Relax, and sit.” Once again, instead of letting you move, he’s taken matters into his own hands. There would be no debate about his airflow or whether he could handle your weight on his head. Simon pushed you down until you had successfully straddled his face, slick pooling against his tongue.

Your breathing hitches as he so suddenly thrusts you upon him, wasting no time to lap at your sex. He begins by circling your clit slowly, eyes fluttering shut in focus so he can maintain a pattern. Second by second, you’ve produced more than enough slick for an audible squelch with every plunge of his skilled mouth. It’s a new feeling to get used to — plagued by pleasure and reliant on every flick, yet you’re in the position of power. Bucking your hips against his tongue, using the headboard to brace yourself the longer this goes on.

By the time your breaths have gotten heavier and the moans have escaped you, Simon began delving his tongue inside you for a few turns, before devouring your nub once more. It was methodical, every switch of his pace, every roaming digit heightening your pleasure. He cupped your breast, thumbing your hardened nipple with every grind. The other hand maintained its tight grip on your thigh, merely to keep your trembles under control — which were only increasing as your climax approached.

Your nails scraped against the wooden headboard, until your tensed fingers finally found his ashy blond locks, gripping his scalp for dear life. When he hummed against you, there was an involuntary spasm of your hips, unleashing the minutes of swirling in your abdomen.

His tongue bullied you through your climax, and then some. His slobbers turned into minute licks, merely playing with the wetness coating his chin and reddened lips. When you recuperated enough for the grinds of your hips to slow, you ascended your weight off his mouth — ogling a string of spit and arousal still connecting the two organs, until it eventually snapped and soaked into his shirt.

Simon pants for a moment as his lungs take in the air again, and then his fingers start circling your hips. “What did we learn, love?” He asks with a hint of bluster, both in his oral skills and his callback to you saying ‘teach me’ while eye-fucking him. Just like before, he wasted little time answering his own questions, only this time your excuse for lull was bouncing back from the orgasm of a lifetime.

“Next time I tell you to sit,” he flips the position so you’re flat on your stomach, “you’re going to sit, right?” Simon whispers into your ear wantonly, all while his fingers find the waistband of his sweats and briefs at once, rolling them down to his mid-thigh.

You turn your head to the side against the mattress, letting out a slight chuckle. “I’ll never make the same mistake twice.”

He chuckles dryly, taking note of your coy attempt at humor. “So you’re sayin’... we’ll be doing this again?” He’s leaned closer now, warm breath tickling your earlobe. In your blind spot, he’s lined up with your entrance and palming himself. The prospect of getting together again wasn’t one he was going to refuse, perhaps even after he was done thinking with his dick. It was apparent even this early on that it wouldn’t be a series of dispassionate hookups, not with you.

“Maybe,” you retorted, nibbling on your lip, “think I should be the judge of that?”

“You’re right,” Simon replies, slowly inching his way inside of you with little verbal warning. But, judging by your mouth agape in rapture, he has done something right so far. He lets out a guttural moan, bending one of your legs slightly to get better access. His whole weight is practically pressing on you, containing your urge to twitch as his thrusts become mindful and calculated.

His hands haven’t left you once; whether they’re gripping your hips, your shoulders, or the nape of your neck. “Oh, fuck.” He quakes, slowly rolling his head to the side as your walls tense around him with each deep grind. By now, he’s bottomed out inside you — a sinful, tight compress of your pussy that almost restricts him.

He’s not rushing now, either, but every rock of his hips does gain some intensity. They’re well-spaced enough to keep you on your toes, yet quick enough to make your eyes roll. By now, the sensitivity of the first orgasm is spilling over onto your second like a violent riptide jostling your senses around. Every urge to savor this moment, to let your body take its time, is utterly abandoned. 

Simon leans forward and begins nipping and licking along your shoulder blades, making a pattern of it. Jawline, to nape, to the blades — coated with a line of his saliva and teeth marks. It’s the only humane way he can keep himself contained.

Your walls are clenching around him rapidly now, once he’s teased that gratifying spot deep within you, “gonna cum for me again, sweetheart? Keep takin’ me so well?” His words are nearly more addicting than his cock; the British rasp that gets thicker the closer he is to finishing.

The nod you supply is pathetic, at best. It earns you a few fingers in your mouth; hollowing your cheeks and slobbering as you sob around them from your fast-approaching climax. The pace is agonizing, but enough when he uses his other hand to thrust your body onto his length, angling your cunt in a way that finally hits a bullseye on that spot.

Your throat clenches, as does the rest of your muscles when you dissolve into pleasure. What was once a tight coil of tension in your abdomen, was now waves of ecstasy coursing through you — prolonged by his now sloppy thrusts. You go limp against the mattress as he rides out the rest of his, your ears feasting on the curses Simon’s muttering.

With a halt, the fingers in your mouth are withdrawn. Both of his hands reside on your hips, holding you in place as he drains every last drop of his orgasm within you. For a few seconds, all you hear are his quivers and the shuffle of the skin-to-skin.

Then, every ounce of his restraint shatters once the climax passes. About half his weight lands on you as he slumps forward, pulling his length from you and wilting against the creased sheets. “Was that a yes?” He asks, snaking an arm around your shoulders until you roll over to face him.

“To what?” You huff a few times whilst running your fingertips along his arm scars. To say you were in shock, was an understatement. He was everything you were expecting—and more—in the sack. All the pandering, all the ‘getting in your own way’ on both sides erupted into a climax. Or multiple, for that matter.

“Doin’ this again?” Simon replies, pushing your head against his peck.

“Hm, I think I might need a few more test drives before I come to a final decision.” You say, raising your brows to match your playful tone. It was a stark contrast to the weeks prior, even if the events leading up to sharing a hotel room with him were less than pleasant.

And to him; he lost all sense of control when you took a stab for him. He just had a way of hiding it—the keyword being; had.

At the thought of it, his thumb finds the now healed scar where the knife penetrated, reflecting in his mind about all the events that led up to this. Two different bodies, two different ages, two different persons, yet both are thinking about history.

“I think that can be arranged, Doc.”

TAGLIST: @hyperfixationwhore @starlettemoony @sapientiia @igotmajordaddyissues @kyuupidwrites @ansaturn @bb-ss-ll @delilah-grimes @ajordan2020 @certified-lana-del-rey-lover (it won't let me tag some of you properly)

#mw2 #call of duty #task force 141 #mw2 fanfic #simon riley #task force 141 x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley headcanons #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #tf 141 x reader #141 task force #tf 141 #cod x female reader #cod x y/n #cod x you #cod x reader #ghost smut

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Pounding

Summary: Reader has a migraine, and Spencer wants to help.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Hurt/comfort

Content warnings: none

Word count: 1.2k

The transition of seasons is something that has to be endured. It’s the time when you wake up to frost on your windshield in the morning but must remove your coat by the time you leave work. It is a painful time of inconsistency, especially for your sinuses. Not only with the pollen in the air (as well as on your car at all times) but the dryness as well. It causes your headaches to go from sometimes once a month to now twice a week.

And the first one happens this week, today. The migraine descended on you like a storm, brewing from your nasal cavities, its relentless waves of pain crashing against the shores of your temples. With each throb, the world around you seemed to blur and spin.

You shut the door to your apartment and let your bag fall from your shoulder, with no care with where it lands. Light, food, the smell of home is all too much to bear. With a sigh, you shuffle to the sanctuary of your room and bask in the silence while you can still control it. You unleash yourself from your business casual attire and fall into bed, nestling yourself under the covers.

The darkness relieves pressure, only slightly. It will probably be hours before it has settled, so you think it is best to call it a night now at 5:56 in the evening. There was no point in doing anything else as streetlights alone from the windows have proven to be enough to make the back of your eyes ache. You remained still, motionless, unmoved. Minutes could stretch well into hours without your knowledge.

Until the sound of the front door opened, cutting through the quiet. Spencer was home, which means it’s 6:06 now. The creaking floors from his aged apartment tell you he goes to the kitchen first, the sink runs, then his steps only grow closer to you until you can feel his presence at your back. “Migraine?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

It drains all energy and motivation out of you, so you merely nod in response. He’s more than familiar with severe head pain; chronic migraines that were resolved with a vitamin regimen. Fortunately, he has yet to complain about them bothering you in the year you’ve been together. And he never leaves home without them.

Unfortunately, this makes him eager to figure out your head pains. Last spring, he left out an array of vitamins in a pill organizer. They didn’t. It wasn’t an issue at first. It was clear he was trying to help. The downside of your boyfriend being a child prodigy and objective genius is that he will never back down from a challenge, even when you have asked him to. He can’t do it. Later in the month, he came home one day with an array of tea brands, mostly ginger and peppermint. He’s bought humidifiers, massaged the cartilage of your nose, and even consulted Reddit. It’s certainly worn down your patience, especially when you require complete silence.

“I can get you some hot compresses from the pharmacy if you want.” He jumps in completely. The last three words are merely to cushion the obvious; reiterating the point rather than saying something like, “I’ve had headaches before. I know how awful they are, so you should let me help you.” Which he’s also said.

You continue the annoying pattern by shaking your head with an audible moan. Opening your eyes hurts.

“What about nasal spray or decongestant? I can get those at the pharmacy as well.”

“I don’t need anything from the pharmacy. I took ibuprofen. Just need to keep my eyes closed.”

“Well, that can only help so much today. Saline will help encourage drainage and expansion in the vessels. Ibuprofen solves the head pain, not the root problem.”

“Unless the BAU can order planting fruit trees, it’s the best we can do.”

“What I’m trying to say is—”

You groan louder. “This isn’t a time for solutions, Spencer.”

Another unfortunate aspect of your relationship is that you can feel the way Spencer’s face softens from your tone. He then mutters out an apology, a brief sorry, but he doesn’t leave. He touches your shoulder and keeps his hand there until you turn to face him. And because you love him very much, you strain to open your eyes. You can make out a blur of his silhouette in the growing darkness, but still see clearly his glossy eyes and the quirk of his lips. “Can you do something for me first, though? Real quick?”

Before you answer, his hand slides toward your upper back, meaning you have to sit up for this. You were ready to say something along the line that he’s lucky you love him right now and leave it at that because thinking further made the pressure in your temples increase. 

You didn’t have to speak at all, though. Because Spencer is also holding a glass of water in front of you. You look up at Spencer’s puppy-eyed silhouette. “Not a solution,” he says softly. “It’s something you always need.”

Well, if that didn’t make you feel like an asshole. You accepted the glass without a word, feeling the coolness against your palm as you brought it to your lips. Each sip, at the very least, a distraction from the throbbing. Spencer watches you closely. You had no choice but to finish the whole glass. And you did, leaving Spencer satisfied enough as he took the glass and walked out.

You didn’t say a word. The sink ran again, and Spencer returned with another full glass. He doesn’t hand it to you, instead puts it on the nightstand before turning precariously on his heels. It takes you a second through half-closed eyes to realize he’s walking back out. You’re afraid to ask, wondering if you’ve made him too upset to talk. You push yourself and do so anyway, keeping your tone in mind. “Where are you going?”

Spencer turns on his heels once more, looking around momentarily like there were others in the room. He then looks at you. “I figured you wanted to be alone.”

You reach out, moving through the pain quite literally, and you catch the polyester of his cardigan just between your fingers and pull him closer until you can wrap your arms around him. You hold your breath, knowing the intense smell of his laundry detergent would be enough to collapse down to your pillow in further pain. His cardigan is soft against your face. “Do you have other stuff to do?”

He chuckles, his abdomen bounces. So, he’s not too mad. “I do not.”

Encouraged by his response, you tug him gently (and not so gracefully) into bed. He’s delightfully warm. Spencer kicks off his shoes in response before pulling you close. Then you bury your face into his chest, hesitant to breathe in the scent of cedar that clings to the cardigan. You try best to ignore it as you cocoon yourselves beneath the blankets, finding refuge in each other’s company amidst the inner turmoil that comes with spring. You listen to the steady rhythm of Spencer’s heartbeat, and find a fleeting sense of peace in the storm.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x you #spencer reid/you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid blurb #criminalminds #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

[astronomysturniolos]

matt sturniolo x gf

surprise surprise

warnings: pet names, p in v, fingering, kissing, hickey placing, kissing

summary: matt is on tour but what happens when you miss him so much you can’t stand not seeing him anymore, and things take a pleasurable turn for you both

—————————————

as i stepped off the plane, excitement bubbled within me like champagne fizzing in a glass. it had been three long months since i last held him, kissed him, felt the warmth of his embrace. but now, the moment was finally here. i could hardly contain my eagerness as i made my way through the bustling airport, my heart pounding in anticipation of our reunion.

the thought of surprising him on tour had kept me going during those lonely nights without him. i had planned every detail, from coordinating with laura, to double checking my arrival remained a secret. the element of surprise was crucial. i wanted to see the shock and joy in his eyes when he laid eyes on me after all this time.

as I approached the venue, my heart fluttered with nervous excitement. would he be thrilled to see me, or would he be caught off guard? doubts crept into my mind, but i brushed them aside, focusing on the overwhelming love and longing that fueled my determination to make this moment unforgettable. checking my appearance in my phone camera, adjusting my hair, and walking into the doors.

with a shaky breath, i waited backstage, hidden from view, as the minutes ticked by like eternity. every sound made me jump with anticipation, imagining that each footstep belonged to him. and then, finally, the moment arrived. i caught a glimpse of him through the curtain, and my heart skipped a beat.

he stepped onto the stage, his presence commanding the attention of the crowd. my eyes drank in the sight of him, the way his eyes sparkled under the stage lights, the familiar curve of his smile making me already blush. the way his tattoos were enhanced by the spotlight focused on him, and his veins moving everytime he put the mic to his mouth. honestly i didn’t know how much longer i could last without his hands roaming my body.

and then, as if on cue, our eyes met as he glanced to his side, seeing me behind the curtains. time seemed to stand still as recognition dawned on his face, followed by disbelief, then unbridled joy. he has to keep calm because of his fans, but his eyes showed me how much he wanted to run and hug me in the moment.

after the show everyone gave us alone time in the bus. reunited at last. and as he enveloped me in his arms, whispering words of love and gratitude, his hands grazed my ass. warmth already growing in my core. “i missed you so much baby” he whines, still gripping my ass with his head in my neck. “i missed you too matt” i giggle, running my hands through his hair.

“but honestly” i start, as he pulls his head up to make eye contact with me. motioning for me to continue “i think you need to show me just how much you missed me” i say, bringing my hands to his arms, tracing his tattoos.

“oh yeah?” he teases, titling his head at me. and his eyes, piercing through me. i can’t control myself any longer. i nod and instantly attack his lips, like their water and im in a drought. our tongues battling for dominance, even though he always wins.

we walk to the couch never disconnecting from each other, and he towers over me as i’m laid down, my arms keeping me slanted upwards. he starts trailing kisses down my neck. “please matt” i whine, needing him so badly. “what baby, you need something?” he teases, feeling the smile grow on his face against my neck, along with the hickeys already growing. “need you please” i manage to say, my core so hot it can start a fire. “your wish is my command princess” he says before taking his shirt off.

he tugs at the bottom of my pink let’s trip 5 mil shirt, “can i take this off” he asks, as if it is even a question. all i do is nod as he quickly removes it, smiling when he sees i have no bra on. “so perfect baby, just for me hm?” he asks and i just hum in response.

he fumbles with his jeans as i remove mine as well, now we are both just in our underwear, and as i try to take mine off he stops me, taking his thumb on my clit and rubbing circles. a moan slips out my mouth as he continues “you like this, me rubbing on u huh?” he asks, i just nod in reply, but that isn’t enough for him. “use your words gorgeous” he says, still rubbing circles, occasionally sticking a finger inside my underwear. “yes matt. yes.” i say out of breathe.

he rips my underwear off my hips and take his finger and puts it in my pussy and holy fuck did i miss him. his veiny long fingers pushing in and out of me. i groan in pleasure as he continues. “so good matt. so soo good” i ramble, feeling him stick another finger in. still thrusting in and out of me mumbling words of affirmation every couple seconds.

after im finally stretched out enough, i put my hand on his wrist. making him stop, and “i need your dick matt. right now.” comes out of my mouth without warning, and he immediately starts fumbling with his underwear, finally taking it off and holy fucking shit. i forgot how big he was.

he aligns it at my hole, looking at me and i give him a nod of approval. he puts the tip in slowly and we both let out a breathe of relief. he keeps going until he bottoms out and he just lays on top of my for a minute, catching his breathe.

without warning he starts pounding into me, pulling almost fully out before going in again. and i think im seeing stars. this is probably the best sex me and him have had yet. his chain dangling in my face and the sweat dripping onto my nose from his, making me wanna just soak up every ounce of him. he hits the one spot where i let out a pornographic moan, him continuing onto that spot until i feel my release creep onto me.

“i’m close matt” i say, barely audible from all the pleasure. “same.” he breathes out. his thrusts getting sloppy and we hit our highs at the same time. “im coming. shit. i’m coming matt” i repeat, my ears beginning to ring. “me too baby, me too” he says, riding out our highs.

once we finished we just look at eachother and giggle. then my eyes glance to the stove, the clock saying it has been an hour that we have been in here and everyone else is bound to come in any second. “shit matt, it’s been an hour, we have to clean up” i say worried, and he just laughs, “don’t worry baby, there are more problems.” he says, and i look at him confused. i hurriedly get up getting the hint and check the mirror. there are 2 purple spots on my neck.

“matt.” i deadpan in the mirror, looking at him as he just smirks knowingly. “whattt” he says, wrapping his hands around my waist. before i have time to answer the door burst open and chris walks in. “ew, get a room” he says with a look of disgust on his face, going straight to the bunks. me and matt laughing as everyone else follows him inside.

—————————————

anna speaks: this is ur time to yell at me im sorry i haven’t writing or even posted in a while but school is kicking my ass but i’m gonna try n be more active!!😜😜

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo edit #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo headcanon #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo headcanon

[lucyandalexiafan]

Winning against her | Jenni Hermoso x reader

Summary: Jenni had started to watch your instagram stories a few days before the Champions Barcelona - Roma match, liking the last one you posted. At the end of the game she makes it clear that she would like to pass the night with you, what happen if you go there?

Warnings: sex against glass wall, light chocking, light degradation, few spanks. Age gap: reader is 23, Jenni 30.

Words: 3,5k

Please, read the note at the end :)

“You have to beg me better than that if you want to have an orgasm after the match and this bratty behavior” Jenni whispers against your neck, before removing her fingers from you and resting them against your thigh, her satisfied smirk on her face reflected on the wall glass.

The story of how you ended up with your breasts against the glass wall of her apartment, completely naked, extremely horny but also extremely needy, with her behind you edging you, is a bit long.

Jenni had watched all your Instagram stories from three days before the Champions League game and liked the last one that you posted the day of the match. She had started watching them the day before you and your team were supposed to travel to Barcelona, where the first Champions League group stage match would take place, Barcelona against Roma. You had reposted a story posted by the Champions League profile: the fact that she looked at it seemed weird to you, of course, but you thought that she had simply looked at your profile after the Champions League profile story or was looking for the players of your team to have an idea of how you looked like. Furthermore, you tried not to think about it too much knowing that you too tended to look at your opponents' social profiles before matches.

The second time was a story of a photo of you and Linari the day of the travel, that you reposted from Linari's profile, but since Elena and Jenni had been teammates at Atletico, you thought that maybe she had seen it to try to understand if you were together; like gossip about former teammates.

The third time was the day before the match, when you had posted a photo of you and Haavi walking around the city, with Giacinti and Giugliano behind you, who were laughing. In this case, there was no connection between you and her that could have led her to your profile and, since she didn't follow you on Instagram, she must have searched for your profile. You had started to think about it too much, but you still hadn't said anything to anyone, not even Elena.

The fourth time, and the time of the like, was when you had, on purpose, posted a photo of yourself that Caesar took of you while you were in Parc Güell: you were wearing a tight-fitting crop top that highlighted your breasts, an open white shirt and pants that were baggy but tight at the waist; the pose highlighted your muscles, your flat abdomen, and, more generally, your shapes.

The notification of the like arrived while you, Giugliano and Linari were reviewing the match schemes in your room; you blushed so much that Manu had stolen the phone from your hands and laughed at the fact that a like gave you such a reaction. Elena, on the other hand, had winked at you revealing how Jenni, like many of her teammates, very often liked Instagram's stories with a not-so-innocent intent, when it came to people who weren't her friends.

You had dismissed the conversation, continuing to review the schemes with them, but something inside of you was always thinking of her.

Did she do it on purpose or had she pressed it by mistake?

It was just a like, okay, but she was Jenni Hermoso, the hot, tattooed, beautiful and charming midfielder of Barcelona and Spain National Team, one of your crushes for years.

When you entered the stadium that afternoon you were nervous, anxious. Certainly, the match was the main source of stress, but a part of you knew that you were feeling this way also because of the raven player.

What if she had just made a mistake?

You had worn the match kit, thanking the fact that it was still warm enough in Barcelona to not wear the thermal shirt under the t-shirt, and then you entered the field for the warm-up along with your teammates.

The Barcelona team was already on the field, Alexia was guiding the training with the athletic trainers, her teammates doing a pair exercise.

The fans were noisy, chanting songs and waving flags.

You looked around, accidentally detaching from the group, surprised by the number of people, the atmosphere, the colors. If it's true that the atmosphere of the Roma stadium was warm, compared to this it's nothing.

Then, as you turned around to look at all the sectors of the stadium, you had set your eyes on the opposing team and, a few moments later, on the raven.

She was looking at you, a smirk on her face, a posture that radiated confidence and a bit of arrogance.

She bit her lip, then tilted her head to the side.

You blushed in front of that gaze, lowering yours, but then Bartoli yelled at you to start the warm-up like everyone else, and the awkward moment ended.

Your horniness, no, you were so horny. This was the first time that you saw her in person, in real life, and even though you were on both sides of the field, she was so attractive.

The warm-up was amazing, the atmosphere and the fans singing kept making you more and more eager to play the match, but you tried in every way not to look at the other half of the field, not to look at her. Although, in reality, you tried not to look at their whole team: the idea of playing against players like Alexia Putellas, Caroline Graham or Marta Torrejon gave you too much performance anxiety, an anxiety not compatible with having been chosen as a starter.

Half an hour later you were inside the tunnel, in line with your teammates, with Barça to your right; you were the penultimate, in front of only the goalkeeper. Linari, that bitch, had greeted Jenni and had involved you in their brief conversation, a conversation that was possible because you were far enough from your captains, and at the end of the lines, to be seen talking.

"Jenni! Holaa – the Roma player had said – How are you?"

"Elena! It's been so long," she had said in return, embracing her. "All good with you? Ready to lose?" the Madrilena had winked.

"You're the one ready to lose, we have our ace up our sleeve," she had pointed at you, then put an arm around your shoulders. "Jenni, let me introduce the one who will score against you and make us win."

To say your cheeks were as red as Canada's jersey would be an understatement.

"I'm Jennifer, but you can call me Jenni," she had extended her hand to introduce herself. "It's a pleasure. You are a midfielder, aren't you?"

Your eyes had widened, surprised she knew your position. "Yes... I, yes."

Her hand was warm, it was big.

She had bitten her lip.

"Is this your first Champions League match? How old are you?" she had asked, her eyes locked on yours as if Elena wasn't next to you.

"Twenty-three, it's my first game, yes," you had whispered, embarrassed.

"Elena! Stop talking, focus!" Bartoli, the captain, then interrupted the small talk.

The line had then started to move towards the field, and you hadn't had the chance to talk to her again, even though you felt her eyes on you as you walked.

The match had been hell.

They ran as if their lives depended on it, they were physical and committed many fouls, protesting every time the referee blew the whistle, contributing to worsening your anxiety. The fans did not help to ease the tension either, continuing to sing, to yell.

Alexia had scored in the twenty-second minute, a beautiful shot into the top corner from a free kick.

Your team hadn't been particularly affected by the goal, but you had. The pressing they were applied was so stressful that your passes weren't as accurate as in Serie A and you won maybe half of the tackles; your anxiety was so much that you thanked the universe when the referee blew the whistle for halftime.

The coach's speech in the changing room had infused more confidence in you, and you had entered the field much more assertive; Haavi had told you to try long crosses to her or Viens whenever you could, to start counterattacks, the only chance to break their defense wall.

You had listened to the advice and, indeed, she was right: you had started to create attack actions more often, and Ona Batlle had gotten a yellow card for preventing one of your counterattacks. The more you attacked, the more the anxiety disappeared, the more you started to take risks in midfield. Some dribbling attempts, some sprints toward their pitch' part.

Then, in the seventieth minute, Linari had headed the ball, passed by you, into the net.

Goal, 1-1.

Elena had run towards you, her arms wide open.

You had jumped into her arms, your teammates' screams around you.

There was nothing else but you, that ball in the net, that 1-1 on the scoreboard, your cross.

From there on, it was a battle. The intensity of the match had grown, and you started to get tired. Haavi and Viens were too tired to continue those sprints and Barca's pressing was suffocating.

In the 93rd minute, they had a corner kick. You were all in the area, outside for you there was only Giacinti, and, for them, Mapi Leon and Ona Battle. Salma had kicked it, but Linari had intercepted it, passing it to Di Guglielmo on the side, who in turn passed it to Giacinti in the midfield.

At that point, you had sprinted, energy or no energy, you had started running towards the other side of the field. Giacinti had passed the ball to Giugliano, who seemed to understand your intentions, since she had passed it to you in Barça's backline. Your stop wasn't perfect, but somehow you had managed to dribble Mapi Leon and kick the ball from just outside the box.

The last shot of the match.

The last seconds of the match.

Time had almost stopped while that ball was spinning on itself in the direction of Cata Coll.

Then, as if all celestial bodies were aligned, the ball went into the net.

Cata Coll hadn't reached it.

The stadium had collapsed into a stunned silence for a moment, broken only by the scream of a tired Giacinti who had jumped on you to celebrate. But you were only staring at that ball, now still on the ground against the net.

You had scored.

The match had ended just as Barcelona had kicked the ball.

You had won.

Elena was squeezing you tightly when Jenni approached.

Her face was twisted in anger from the loss.

She was extending her hand to you and your teammate in a barely credible 'good game.'

Elena shook her hand, then moved away from you two to greet others.

Something inside you sparked; it was your only chance to speak to her.

"Jenni," you said as she was turning away, "would you mind if we swapped jerseys? I'd like to have yours."

She looked at you, confused, the trace of anger still evident in her eyes.

"Or maybe not, never mind, sorry," you whispered, giving her a chance to refuse.

"No, it's fine," she said, her voice low.

Then, in a moment, she took off her jersey in front of you, as if she wasn't stripping herself.

And, oh God, her body: her defined abs, her tattoos, a light sheen of sweat that stood out thanks to the light of the stadium, her chest that contracted according to the rhythm of her breathing, her breast tight inside the black Nike bra. She was not wearing a thermal shirt too, so her tattooed arms were free, and you could look at them too.

Fuck.

You probably stared a bit too long because she smiled at you and then asked, giggling, if you were planning to give her yours.

You nodded, embarrassed, then removed it, hand out the t-shirt to her; she took yours, giving hers to you.

Her eyes immediately landed on your body, she looked at you like no one ever had before.

The evening's chill hit you, and your nipples were visible through your white bra and, when you noticed it, you blushed and tried to put on her jersey; but Jenni said you, in a low voice, "Don't cover up, let me see your body"

You looked at her, your eyes slightly open.

What?

Her face was tilted slightly to the right, a smirk on her face as her eyes once again dropped to your body for a moment.

Was she flirting?

Maybe, maybe not; but you decided to try, so you pretended that your attempt to put on the jersey was actually a clumsy attempt to fold it, then deliberately tucked it inside your shorts, low enough to briefly reveal your right hip bone.

The smirk on her face grew, her eyes now gleaming with a different light.

"Do you have the night off?" she asked, her lips hidden behind your jersey.

You nodded.

She bit her lip.

"Find a justification, my car is the last Tesla on the right of the parking lot. I'll wait for you there in an hour."

And then, just as she had arrived, she was gone.

Of course, an hour later, you were in front of that Tesla.

Your coach congratulated you, celebrated with you, and then confirmed you had the evening free. You had gotten away from your teammates thanks to Elena, who had turned from a bitch into a saint, and Camelia, the goalkeeper, who had told the team you three were going to look for that churro stand in the city center; it may seem like a silly excuse, but since you landed in Barcelona, the three of you have eaten so many churros that the team couldn't even stand the smell of them anymore.

Shortly after, Jenni arrived.

You felt like a shy and scared novice. Casual sex wasn't your thing, probably unlike the Barcelona player, and you didn't quite know how to behave; moreover, shyness began to mix with the embarrassment of waiting for a woman in front of her car. Maybe it was the modesty you had been raised with, maybe it was the anxiety of not being good enough for someone like her.

"You're here," you jumped at the scare, then turned towards the direction of the voice. "I wasn't sure you'd come," she continued, then chuckled at the double entendre, stopping a couple of steps from you.

You blushed, lowering your gaze as an unconscious reaction, allowing you to observe her outfit.

She was... perfect. A pair of slim black jeans, a white shirt, and a black vest; the tattoos on her hands and wrists were visible thanks to the sleeves rolled up a couple of times.

"Is it okay if we go to my house? It's about twenty minutes from here,"

You looked into her eyes, returning to reality, and took too long to verbalize a response, as she added "If you're not comfortable with this, we could go to h-"

"No, it's fine, sorry I was distracted," you whispered in response, cutting her off.

She clenched her jaw, not appreciating the interruption.

"Your bag?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Elena"

She bit her lower lip, visibly annoyed by the answer.

"Are you in a relationship, you and Linari?"

"What?! No! Ele is–"

You couldn't finish the sentence because her lips collided with yours.

The fact she was taller made it even easier for her to dominate the pace of the kiss. Her lips were soft, but you didn't have much time to enjoy them given the passion of the kiss, the hunger.

Her hand had grabbed your hip, the other the back of your neck, forcefully pulling you towards her. Yours were shyly clinging to her vest, pulling it downwards as if asking her to bend more towards you or to come even closer.

After a brief moment, she pulled away, a smug smirk on her face.

"Well, that's a good start. Shall we go?"

She opened the car door for you, then headed to the driver's side; she started the car, and you were on your way to her house.

"No one will know about that kiss," she broke the silence. "The spot where my car was parked isn't visible from the outside, so it's improbable we were photographed."

You nodded, lost in your thoughts, watching her hands grip the steering wheel and gear shift.

You squeezed your thighs in reaction.

"If you don't want to talk, that's fine," she chuckled.

"What? No!" you looked at her, confused. "Sorry, it's better if we talk, it lessens the awkwardness."

She stopped at a red light, then turned to look at you, that arrogant smirk on her face. "Are you embarrassed?" You gasped under her mischievous gaze. "I should be the one embarrassed. I'm the one who lost the match because of your last-second goal."

You looked down, not knowing what to say.

"Actually, I'm more mad than embarrassed. Not at you, of course, but at myself - she sighed, then checked her window for cars from her right. - But sex is useful for venting this madness, right?"

You nodded. "Yes, I think so."

"You don't have sex to vent madness?"

In reality, you rarely had sex, too busy with university, with football, with being new in a big city, with the anxiety of making a change in your career.

You had a few partners when you lived in Milan, people older than you like Jenni, but never a relationship, and over time, casual sex almost didn't satisfy you anymore. It's funny to think about how you started feeling this way when your followers on social media and people flirting with you had skyrocketed.

But Jenni was Jenni. Beautiful, tattooed, athletic.

Dominant.

When she had liked that story, that desire for sex, for hard, rough and passionate sex, had burst; and, judging by how she behaved during the jersey swap and in the parking lot, you weren't wrong about her. Maybe you would have the night of sex you wanted, that you needed.

You shook your head, embarrassed. "Not much, actually," you quickly sought an excuse, which materialized into a pathetic, "I moved to Rome less than two months ago, I haven't had the chance yet."

She chuckled, probably not believing your dubious explanation.

"You can sleep over at my place if you want," she said as she turned the wheel. "If I'm not mistaken, your hotel is more than twenty minutes away by car from my house, and I don't think it's a smart decision to go there on foot, by public transport, or take an Uber at three in the morning."

"Thank you," you simply responded.

It may be stupid, but the regard she had shown, worrying about you walking down the street at three in the morning, had calmed you down; probably it was because a part of you was scared that, immediately after having sex, she would ask you to leave. And, if you were going to have the sex you both seemed to want, you knew you needed aftercare after the intercourse.

She opened the front door of her house with a smile, letting you in first.

Her house was beautiful. The door led to the living room, a huge room with a glass wall overlooking Barcelona.

"It's beautiful," you said, with the voice of a happy child at the zoo, as you headed towards the paintings hung on the walls to look at them.

This house had nothing to do with the small and cramped studio where you were living in Rome or the apartment where you had lived in Milan with three teammates.

Jenni chuckled and then put her bag down and headed towards the kitchen.

"Is that you as a child?" You asked, pointing at a photo of a little girl in the arms of an elderly woman.

"Yes, that's me with my grandmother on vacation at the beach. I think I was about four years old," the sound of the fridge opening prompted you to look for her in the room. "Do you want something to drink? I have wine, or tea, or Coca-Cola."

"The wine is perfect, thank you," you responded, heading towards the window.

Barcelona was breathtaking at night from the wall glass: the cars barely visible, the lights from the other buildings, the streetlamps.

It almost seemed like a dream.

“There we are” Jenni tells you, making you scared.

You grab the glass hesitantly, suddenly tense.

“What are we toasting to? – she asks you, but you shrug, not knowing what to say – Would I say, to a beautiful night?”

You blush at the allusion, but you make your glass collide with hers; you had brought it to her mouth looking into her eyes, her with hers against her chest.

Say that wine is delicious is reductive.

What wine was it? You've never had something so good.

"Do you like it? – you nod enthusiastically – I would even give you another glass, but I would like you to be sober” She giggles, teasing you.

You bite your lip and stare at her while she drinks her wine.

She is beautiful, charming, magnetic.

"Do you like Barcelona?" she asks nodding to the view.

“The view from your house is beautiful – you reply, the embarrassment replaced by enthusiasm – From here you can see so well that-“

You stop the moment she positions herself behind you, her lips suddenly on your neck.

"That?" she suggests when she realizes you're not willing to continue the conversation, too focused on how her lips kiss your skin, how her tongue licks it.

You moan almost without restraint when her hand tightens around your hip, squeezing your thighs together, then leaning completely against her body.

She towers over you, her height difference forcing her to lean towards you.

She sucks a piece of skin, then asks you to continue.

"That-"

Her hand trails under your shirt until it makes contact with your bra.

She squeezes your breast and the fabric in her hand.

“The view is so beautiful that?” She repeats, then blows against the saliva she leaves on your neck.

You close your thighs together, looking for friction, the horniness that makes your panties soaked in a few seconds.

She smiles against your neck.

Before you can feel it, her other hand, surprisingly hot, touches yours. “Leave me the glass.”

You do so, and she places it on the right, on a cabinet next to hers. When does she put it down?

Then, she is back to paying attention to you.

Her lips kiss your neck much more hungrily, her hand now under your bra with her fingers playing with the nipple, the other on your hip pushing you towards her body.

“Please,” you moan after too little time.

"What?" She responds, pretending not to know how needy you are.

"Please."

Her hand moves from your breast, making you wary of the lack of contact.

She makes you turn towards her, her hand under your chin, forcing you to look at her.

“Do you know what safewords are? – you nod, embarrassed - What are yours?” She questions, her lips now against your neck again.

“Green, yellow and red.”

"There is something that I can't do? - you shake your head - Spanking, orgasm denial, degradation, praise..."

"You... all of them-okay"

She bites your lip, licking it after.

You close your hands clinging to her vest.

“Can I undress you?”

You nod, your eyes on hers.

“Words, not gestures – her voice is calm, almost sweet – Every time I ask you a question I want you to answer me and give me verbal consent.”

You blush at her words.

She bites her lip waiting for you.

“Yes, please,” the voice is decidedly more desperate than you wanted.

Her sadistic grin suddenly returns.

Her fingers quickly end up against the edges of your sweater, grabbing your t-shirt as well; you raise your arms and she slips them off together, leaving you in your bra.

Her gaze lands on your chest, her eyes stained with horniness, and she bites her lip, assorted in her thoughts.

And, taken by a moment of confidence that you don't know where comes from, you unclasp your bra, then let it fall to the floor, leaving you topless in front of her.

Her eyes widen at your boldness, in complete contrast to your shyness and embarrassment of earlier.

Then, in a second, she is against you. Her hand on the back of your neck, her lips on yours.

A passionate kiss that at first you try to dominate, only to give up after a few moments, feeling her grin on your lips in front of your bland attempt to control it.

You grab her hand, bringing it against your breast, as if begging her to touch you.

She bites your lip and you sigh.

Then, almost simultaneously, she squeezes your nipple between her fingers. At that point, you moan in her mouth.

“Please,” you beg again.

Her hands end up on your hips, pressuring you to turn towards the window.

You blush at the idea that she's fucking you from behind against a wall glass, but you’re too excited to stop it, combined with the awareness that you’re too high to be seen by other people and that this is one of your favorite kinks.

She then places one of her hands against your back, pushing you towards the window. You take a step towards the glass wall, but she grabs your shoulder. “No – the voice is now dominant – bend forward with your torso until your breasts touch the window, but stay here.”

You do as she said, arching your back and pushing your butt against her hips, the breasts against the window and the nipples now turgid because of the cold.

“Good girl – she praises you – Open your legs a little”

You do it again, following the pats she gives to your ankles with her foot.

The extremely submissive position.

“So obedient – her lips on your back – Do you like me taking control?”

You gasp when her thigh touches between your legs.

Her hands play with your breasts.

“Please.”

“You have to tell me what you want” she whispers in your ear as she squeezes a nipple between her fingers.

You tilt your head back as you moan.

“Touch me, please.”

She bites your neck.

“I'm touching you,” she replies, her smirk on your skin.

“Take my pants off,” you suggest, panting, absorbed in the pleasure given by the insufficient stimulation of her nipples.

One of her hands leaves your breast, then slaps your ass.

You scream in surprise, but your horniness increases dramatically.

“Is this how you ask what you want?”

You shake your head. “Please, please Jenni – you try to push yourself towards her, raising your torso from the window – Touch me”

Her hand rests against your back again, pushing you towards the glass wall.

“So needy – her hand reaching down to your jeans – So good at begging”

You clench your hands into fists when she pulls down the waistband of your pants, along with your panties, and you close your eyes when you feel her bend over as she pushes them to the floor.

You hear her kneel on the floor.

You pant in anticipation.

A finger that touches where you need it most.

“So wet – she whispers, then bites her thigh – So wet just for me”

“Yes, just for you Jenni”

You hear her grin and then moan without restraint when she separates your cheeks and then licks your folds.

You lift your hands up, until they are clasped above your head.

Your legs shake while her tongue explores your hole.

You arch your back even more, in an attempt to get her to give more attention to your clit.

She palpates your ass with one hand, while the other touches your inner thigh, and then places two fingers on your clit.

She moves them slowly, with light pressure.

It's not enough for you to come, she knows that.

“Jenni – you push towards her – Please”

She grins.

She pulls away from you, causing you to groan in irritation.

Her fingers move from your clit to your entrance.

“Beg me to fuck you,” she tells you, her voice low, excited, but confident.

“Jenni please, please – the tip of a finger entering you – please fuck me, Jenni, I beg you... I need you to fuck me”

She bites your ass, then penetrates you with one finger to its last knuckle.

You gasp when she doesn't move it.

“Please Jenni, no more teasing”

She laughs sarcastically, her hand hits your ass with a harsh slap.

“I decide when to stop, not you. I'm in charge”

You close your eyes. “I'm sorry – you bite your lip – Please, please, I'm sorry”

“Soo good – the finger that starts moving – So desperate and needy to let me fuck you against a glass wall, completely naked, while I'm still dressed”

“Jenni please” you beg her for the umpteenth time, the voice desperate, trying to push her to give you an orgasm.

She smiles at you.

She stands up.

“No, no please”

She leans against you again, but this time her hand is against your neck, pushing you towards her, your back arched towards her front.

“Beg me to fuck you, persuade me”

Your hands move to her forearm, squeezing it.

“Safeword?”

“Green – you close your eyes when her fingers were back against your hole – Please Jenni, I'll be good. I swear. Please, I'll be good for you Jenni, please make me come"

She kisses your temple, then pushes again a finger inside you, up to her knuckle. “Can I add one more?”

You beg her to do it.

She adds one, leaving her fingers still inside you for a second. “So tight – she squeezes your neck between her fingers – How long has it been since anyone fucked you, mh?”

You gasp, not thinking she wants an answer, thinking it's a rhetorical question.

You were wrong, the hand that was around your neck left its place for one second, enough time to slap your ass with a second harsh slap. “Answer me”

You groan, your hands gripping her arm.

“I don't remember” you gasp, your head is empty if is not for the desire to be fucked by her, but her fingers are still.

You try to ride her fingers, to find relief from the painful knot in your abdomen, but her hand tightens around your neck for a few seconds, as a warning to stop.

You close your eyes and, in search of that pleasure, you move your hands towards your nipples, squeezing them.

She lets out an annoyed sound as soon as she notices.

“Are you so a needy slut that you stop being a good girl for me? Have I to edge you?”

You gasp, shaking your head. “No, no Jenni… please fuck me”

She grins, sucking the skin of your neck, leaving a mark.

You moan uncontrollably when you feel them move, too horny, too slave to that pleasure that she is finally giving you.

“Already closed?” She questions, knowing the answer given how your walls tighten around her fingers.

You nod. “Please Jenni, I beg you. Can I come?"

“You have to beg me better than that if you want to have an orgasm after the match and this bratty behavior” Jenni whispers against your neck, before removing her fingers from you and resting them against your thigh, her satisfied smirk on her face reflected on the wall glass.

Hi! I don’t know how to say what I'm gonna say without sounding rude or arrogant, but I noticed that the reposts of my works have decreased a lot since I had put this phrase "Do not copy, translate or claim my works and fics as your own; if I find out I will report them and block you. Instead, write to me, my directs are always open, and ask me if you can publish your work/fic inspired by one of mine. However, you can reblog them " at the beginning of every post.

Since this was not the consequence I expected, I would like to explain what happened: about a month ago I found a work very similar to one of mine and I took it quite badly (maybe too much) and, because I didn’t want to start a fight with this writer, I put this phrase at the beginning of each post. When it didn’t happen anymore I took it off, but I noticed that the repost had decreased a lot.

I just wanted to tell to who stopped reblog my post that you can do it, that this was not the aim of my action and I apologize for this misunderstanding, I should have handled the situation better.

I’m sorry about this long note, but I didn’t know how to talk about this situation and I’m sorry if I seem arrogant or rude.

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