#But doesn’t actually come with any pain

[moamidzyism]

too much (k.th)

wc. 3087

summary. when your ex-boyfriend shows up at your door, the last thing you want to do is to let him in. but his phone is dead, and the storm outside isn’t letting up anytime soon, and he really needs some dry clothes (and a warm body)

genre. angst + smut

tags. minors DNI!!! taehyun x fem!reader, exes to lovers, unprotected sex

a/n. the long awaited honeymoon avenue part two!! thank you for being patient with me for this. i’m so happy it’s actually done!

more of my work

he’s standing outside your door, his hair and clothes drenched by the relentless downpour, an awkward smile clinging to his face like a mask. his soaked clothes also cling onto his frame and your mind swarms with confusion and frustration.

“what are you doing here?” you demand.

ignoring your question, he looks past you. his eyes fixated on the warmth emanating from your cozy, dry apartment. without waiting for an invitation, he asks, “can i come in?” reluctantly, you step aside. not because you really wanted him there, but because you wanted to shield your wooden floors from the relentless storm outside.

the wetness that clung to him mirrored the unresolved tension between you – heavy, uncomfortable, cold.

“thank you,” he mumbles, shedding himself of his sodden jacket and hanging it on your coat rack. the wetness drips onto your floors but he doesn’t acknowledge it. instead he pushes his usually meticulously styled hair, out of his face, where it clung in disarray.

your irritation grows as you press him again. “taehyun, again, what are you doing here?”

“i was in the area, and the storm started. this was the only place i knew that was nearby,” he casually explains.

“you live half an hour away from here.” he shrugs again, as if everything had lost its significance in the face of the storm outside, even space, time, and the months of silence between the two of you. “let me get you some dry clothes,” you relent. you disappear into your room. a brief flashback to your painful breakup flickers in your mind.

you looked at your phone again. it had been five minutes since you last called him and forty five minutes since he was supposed to meet you at the restaurant. he was the one who had originally planned to come here, but fifteen missed calls and twenty five unread text messages later, he was nowhere to be seen. and once again, you looked like the idiot who actually believed that your boyfriend was capable of changing.

you looked up at your waiter, who shot you an apologetic glance. gathering your things, you walked out the restaurant, but not before leaving a fifty dollar tip to your waiter for the second hand embarrassment he probably faced that evening on your behalf.

you fished around the back of your closet for old clothes and grabbed a towel from your dresser. you return to the living room and hand him the towel without a word. he takes it, you fingers brushing briefly. he dries his face and his hair, his eyes never leaving you. you try your hardest to avoid eye contact with him. another crash of thunder rumbles through the house, and for a moment, you both look towards the sound.

when your gazes return to each other, you shove the dry clothes towards him. taehyun’s eyes linger on the clothes, an extra large pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. he quirks an eyebrow and scoffs. “moved on already?”

“they are my brother’s,” you respond bluntly, a subtle defiance in your tone. “and you can leave when the storm clears up.” you leave him to change in solitude. the storm outside rages and you can’t shake the feeling that this unexpected reunion might dredge up more than just old memories.

you got home that night and stripped yourself of the new dress that you had just gotten earlier that day. you ought to burn it. any reminder of the humiliation you just faced had to disappear off the face of the earth. you checked your phone, seeing if taehyun had finally remembered that you existed or finally decided that you were worthy of a response. but the only notification you had received in the time since you left the restaurant was an email with a free shipping coupon from an online store that you swore to never shop at again.

you turned off your phone and went to bed. there was no point in staying up, checking your phone every five minutes to see if he would actually text you back. tomorrow, you decided, you will be done with taehyun, for good this time.

you are pulled out of your thoughts when you hear a knock on your bedroom door. you look up to see your ex-boyfriend standing in his newly dried clothes. “hey,” he says softly, his hands finding a home on the back of his neck. his gaze is uncertain, as if he’s not entirely sure how you will receive him.

“yes?” he slowly opens the door further.

“i just wanted to apologize for what i said earlier.” he cautiously inches towards you.

“it’s fine, tae.” you take a deep breath, your voice softening ever so slightly. he stops himself from smiling at the use of the nickname.

“no, it’s not fine,” he begins. “you let me into your house and i insult you after ten minutes of being here.” he shifts uncomfortably, his eyes darting away from yours as if unable to bear the weight of your gaze.

“taehyun, what are you doing here?” a note of frustration creeps into your voice.

“i wanted to see you.” he replies simply.

you run your hands through your hair. “god, i can’t do this right now.” you say, mostly to yourself – a reminder, almost, that you cannot let yourself fall for him again.

“i’m sorry, i just…” his voice trails off, as if he is struggling to find the right words to say.

“you can’t just show up like this, taehyun. it’s not fair.” you sigh again. “it’s not fair to either of us.”

as each second of this conversation passes, he sees the stress lines deepen on your face. he slumps his shoulders. “i know, and i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have come here unannounced, especially with everything that happened between us.” he cannot meet your piercing gaze. “but the rain just reminded me of that night after my parents, and i couldn’t get you out of my head. i just had to see you.”

when you got to the hotel that night, he went straight to the front desk and asked the receptionist for a cot to be delivered to your room. in the room, he went straight to the bathroom, not saying a word to you.

you couldn’t figure him out – was he mad at you? did he not want to talk to you because he thought you didn’t want to talk to him? regardless, you slip out of your wet clothes and sit on the desk chair waiting for him to get out of the bathroom. when he does, you shower, trying so hard to scrub off the entire evening from your body.

stepping out of the shower, you took a look at yourself in a wiped out section of the obscured mirror. your face was exhausted and your eyes were red and puffy. you slipped into your pajamas and returned to the bedroom to find all the lights and taehyun fast asleep on the cot.

“i fucked up; i know i did,” he looks at you now, trying to find some glimmer of hope that you could forgive him. “but i just needed to see you – talk to you. i’ve been thinking a lot about us and about what went wrong.”

you swallowed hard, the memories of your break up still fresh in your mind. you know it doesn’t matter. you know that you can’t change what happened. you even know that getting an actual answer would ruin all the work you had done to get over him. but against everything in you, you ask him, “why didn’t you show up?”

“what?”

“at the restaurant, why didn’t you come?” you feel a pang in your chest, the familiar ache of unresolved feelings bubbling up to the surface. “taehyun, you just let me wait there. you didn’t call me or text me, not even the next morning.”

“i don’t know. i’m sorry.”

you’re not sure why you asked or what you even wanted from him. you just wanted the pain to end and part of you hoped that he could end it. but you had come to learn not to expect much from taehyun. “you can’t keep saying that every time you hurt me.”

“i know, but i mean it.” he inches closer to you, hoping that by seeing him and the regret that marks his face, you would let him in again.

and it almost works.

you almost forgive him but your better mind fights with all its might to keep your hand, that is itching to reach out for him, down. “i should get you a blanket.” you stand up from the bed and move over to your closet to fish for a spare blanket. you give it to him and you go your separate ways for the night – him on the couch and you in the quiet of your bedroom.

you lay in bed, trying hard to fall asleep but your mind drifts to the man in your living room, wondering if he is still awake, thinking about you. you stare at the space underneath your door. after what feels like thirty minutes, the hallway light suddenly turns off.

you get out of bed to see what caused the power outage. when you open the door, you see taehyun outside your room with his phone flashlight glaring right at you. you jump back in surprise. “what are you doing?”

“sorry,” he quickly apologizes, stepping back. “sorry, the power went out and i came to see if you had a candle or something. i didn’t want to keep using my phone because it’s about to die.”

you go to your bathroom and bring out a cheap scented candle to the living room. “this is the only thing i have.”

the two of you sit on the couch together, the worn fabric feels familiar beneath you. the candle sits on the coffee table between you, casting an uneven glow onto your faces. the wind howls outside, rattling the window panes of your small living room.

this scene, with the uncomfortable silence as you both shift in your seats, is almost laughable. you pull your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly as you stare at the flickering flame. occasionally your eyes flick to him, tentative, as if gauging the right moment to speak.

“did i wake you up?” taehyun finally fills the silence.

“no,” you begin, scratching the back of your neck. “i couldn’t sleep.”

lightning flashes, followed by a loud crash of thunder. you wince, your hands gripping around your legs tighter. he moves closer to you, his hand finding yours, intertwining his fingers with yours. you close your eyes for a moment, focusing on the feeling of his hands – the warmth and familiarity of his touch.

when you opened your eyes, you loosened your grip on his hands. “sorry, about that.”

he shrugs it off, “i forgot you were scared of thunder.”

“yeah,” you sit up straight. taehyun doesn’t move from his position next to you.

“maybe it was a good thing that i showed up after all.”

you couldn’t even try to stifle your laughter. “yeah, you’re my knight in shining armor.” you joke.

“i’m just saying, what would you have done if i wasn’t here with you and the power went out?”

“if you weren’t here i’d probably be asleep, i wouldn’t have noticed it.”

“you wouldn’t have noticed the power went out?” taehyun teases you. “you’re the lightest sleeper i know.”

you don’t know why you allowed yourself fall back into comfortable conversation with him but everything goes by in a blur and suddenly you’re laying on the couch with taehyun hovering over your body. he slowly closes the distance between your bodies. he puts his hands on either side of you, giving you no option but to stare deeply into his big brown eyes. “tell me to stop and i will,” he whispers. “hell, i’ll even leave right now. i’ll go home and never bother you again. just tell me to stop.”

his eyes scan your face and you gulp at the feeling of his eyes gravitating towards your lips. “i don’t want you to stop.” you move slowly towards him, part of you hesitant to close the gap between the two of you, because closing the gap means willingly opening yourself up for him to hurt you again.

but when you see how the candlelight twinkles in his eyes, it’s easy for the other part of you to ignore your fears. it’s this part of you that pulls him into a passionate kiss, your hands delicately cupping his face.

your hands slide underneath his shirt but he stops you. your brows furrow in confusion. “what are you doing?” you ask him.

“i just need you to know that i’m sorry.”

“i know,” you run your hands through his now slightly damp hair. “i know you are, baby.”

he brings you upwards to gently peck your lips before leaning you back against the arm of the couch again. you pull him to kiss you again and as the kiss depeens, he takes the opportunity to suck on your lower lip, using his hand to slowly graze your covered breasts. you arch your back, bringing your chest closer to his body.

“i missed you,” taehyun confesses in between the kiss. “i missed you so fucking much.”

“me too,” you mirror him pathetically. all of your sense and self restraint flew out the window. taehyun stands, lifting you effortlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist. he leans in to kiss you again. you respond eagerly, parting your lips to make way for his. he holds you tightly as he leads you away from the dimly lit living room towards the darkness of your bedroom. your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer as if afraid that he might vanish.

the two of you stumble through the hallway, bumping into walls, laughing breathlessly between kisses. taehyun pins you against the wall. your back hits the wall with a gentle thud, and you gasp, giving him a moment for his lips trailing along your jawline and down your neck. you tilt your head back, closing your eyes, a soft moan escaping your lips. he tugs at your sweatshirt, pulling it over your head in one swift motion, throwing it somewhere on the floor behind him.

you arch into him, and your bodies mold together as you inch closer to your bedroom. taehyun pushes the door open with his food, stepping inside and laying you gently on the bed. you pull him down with you. “i need you.” you breathe out. you feel his hard dick through the fabric of his sweatpants. you squeeze him tightly, the way you know he likes it and you’re reassured when he gasps.

you don’t remember the last time you felt like this, like a horny teenager, sneaking a boy who should not be there into your bedroom, doing everything you can to get off. but regardless, taehyun feeds off your excitement, hoping that by you releasing your inhibitions with him, there still remains even a one percent chance that he can slide back into your life as you always let him.

you let taehyun guide his cock inside of you, anticipation and excitement fills your entire body when he pushes in. he takes all of you in, pressing his lips against yours as he slides in. you’re both moaning pitifully into each other’s mouths. you hate to admit how much you wish you could go back to when you guys were together. there’s just something about him being here in your bed with you that feels so normal, so natural, so good. for a second, you allow yourself to forget all the bad parts about your relationship – all the arguments and the fights, all the late nights waiting for him to come home, all the longing and all the pain. for a second, you only focus on how good he’s making you feel right now.

he wastes no time in picking up the speed, knowing how desperate for him you must be. your nails dig into the skin on his back, holding him closer to you. “you’re so big,” you moaned.

“i know baby,” he cooed. he’s so big inside of you. your walls haven’t felt this stretch in so long and you can’t stop yourself from clenching around him with every thrust. the way he grunts into your ear from the exertion has you clamping around him even more. “you’re so perfect to me,” he says between each thrust. “so so perfect for me.”

blood rushes up to your face and you try to hide it in the pillow by your side but taehyun turns your head. “i wanna see your face,” he says with a smirk on his face. he knows you fold every time he looks at you and of course you quickly nod your head, bringing his body closer to you with your legs.

his pace is unrelenting; you can’t last another second. you can’t stop yourself from crying out his name as a wave of ecstasy washes over you. he lets your walls spasm around his dick erratically as his hands press into your hips to hold you in place. taehyun realizes that he’s still weak for you when he sees your orgasm take over.

taehyun quickly cums too. “i love you,” he says as he does, finishing inside of you, his hips stilling as you milk him dry.

taehyun comes back down to earth first, slipping out of you, but still holding you close to his sweaty body as he lays back on the bed beside you, wrapping his arm around you. it takes a while for you to join him, but when the hallway light flickers as he whispers i love you, you quickly come back down in a panic. your body freezes up as you try to wrap your head around what just happened.

beside you, taehyun notices your change. he starts caressing your arm, kissing your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your chin, every part of your face he can reach, anything he can do to make you go back to how you were just a few moments ago. you allowed yourself to fall into his trap, do as he wanted. you snuggled closer to him and allowed yourself to be lulled to sleep by the sound of his breathing slowing down.

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[writers-potion]

I’m trying to write my gods, and I’m not quite sure what dynamics I should include that will make them seem as dysfunctional as they are, but not too much that the humans who worship them know that something is wrong, just my protagonist, and one they’re wrong move away from all tearing apart the world in their hate.

Idk if this is too specific or not but any help is much appreciated. Thanks

Writing Hateful Gods

Thanks for the ask! Please refer to my previous post about Writing Deities for more general tips. 

Hateful God - Hero Dynamics

The god just doesn’t appear in front of humans often. Your protagonist knows a special way to summon them, or find them. 

The god has a partner god who holds back the reins. 

The things they do to “destroy the world” are actually loved by humans. For example, the god may create a beautiful phantom so that humans will fall in love with it and die of heartsickness, but turns out humans were just as happy loving someone they can’t touch. 

Your protagonist has a special power where they can read the minds of gods 

The god may appear just fine on the outside, but there’s something about the protagonist that reminds them of the horrible past and their cruel nature is only revealed when the god sees the protagonist. 

The god has set a time/place where he would destroy the world. When the protagonist gets closer to the god, they come to know about the God’s secret plans. 

The god was nervous about their great “Final Doomsday Plan”, so they decide to test it out…on the protagonist

The god is pained by sadness rather than anger, and the hero is the only one who says kind words to them during worship. Other people just make one-sided demands are leave. 

The god wishes to hide his true self, so he hires a powerful advertising company to make false images and statue of him as The Generous Father. Alas, the hero is an employee in the said advertising company who sees through the god’s veil. 

Consequences of Destroying the World 

Once you’ve established a good reason why they’d want to tear the world apart, the next question would be: why haven’t they done that already? 

You must place a plausible barrier that prevents them from making the world disappear on the spot, something that your protagonist can hope to leverage on to prevent the god from doing just that. 

Maybe the god have tried something similar in the past, and it only ended up killing the person they loved. 

There are strict rules about gods meddling with human beings? What would be the consequences of breaking those rules?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

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[daffi-990]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday ✍️

Tagged by @wikiangela @tizniz & @hippolotamus

Sharing a little something from Chapter 7 of Rival Firefighters 🚒. I think I’ve shared some of this before but don’t know how much, so we’ll just all pretend I haven’t shared any of it, okay? 😅

“Wake up, Buck!”

Buck’s eyes slowly blink open, sleep still heavy on his eyelids, trying to pull him back under its spell. He brings a hand up to rub at his eyes as he carefully sits up, blanket falling to bunch around his lap.

Huh, he doesn’t remember grabbing a blanket last night.

Or a pillow for that matter.

He doesn’t actually even remember falling asleep. He must’ve dozed off when Eddie was putting Chris to bed and then Eddie must’ve slipped a pillow under his head and gotten him a blanket. The thought of Eddie taking care of him like that has warmth swirling in his belly.

“I’m up. Where’s the fire?” He shifts around a little, mindful not to jostle his leg too much. Even though it’s in a brace, one decent bump can still hurt and he’d like to avoid any more pain if he can.

“Dads not cooking so there’s no fire” Chris replies nonchalantly.

“Hey!” An offended squawk sounds from somewhere behind him, Buck turning to find Eddie leaning against the door frame trying to look insulted, but the big fond smile on his face is his downfall.

Chris giggles. “We’re going out for pancakes!” He says excitedly, blue eyes alight with joy.

Buck looks to Eddie for a bit more information, but Eddie simply shrugs. “Better get dressed or Chris will drag you there as is.” And then he’s pushing off of the door frame and walking away, calling out over his shoulder. “We’re leaving in ten!”

Buck turns back to Chris who is looking at him expectedly. “Suppose I best get up then, don’t want to miss out on pancakes.”

Chris claps his hands in excitement as Buck gets off the lounge, hobbling on one foot until he can grab his crutches. He heads to Eddie’s room to change since he doesn’t have any clothes of his own, having not planned on staying the night. He borrows a hoodie and a pair of loose fitting basketball shorts that slip easily over the brace before hobbling out on his crutches to meet the Diaz boys at the door.

Eddie does a double take when Buck comes out, his eyes slowly mapping out Buck’s body before finding his face. Eddie licks his lips and subtly shifts on his feet, Buck suddenly feeling self conscious. He nervously fiddles with the sleeves on the hoodie.

“Uh- I hope you don’t mind that I- that I borrowed some clothes?”

“No, I don’t- don’t mind at all. They uh- you look- yep.” Eddie stammers out, a subtle blush blooming on his cheeks. He points his thumb over his shoulder at the door. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, let’s go eat some pancakes”

Hope this helps tide you over @smilingbuckley 😘

No pressure tagging: @spotsandsocks @devirnis @diazsdimples @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @missmagooglie @monsterrae1 @rainbow-nerdss @exhuastedpigeon @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @sibylsleaves @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @madneywedding @sunshinediaz @spagheddiediaz @lover-of-mine @loserdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @fiona-fififi @dangerpronebuddie @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @homerforsure @hoodie-buck @hawaiianlove808 @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @king-buckley @neverevan @bekkachaos @captain-hen @steadfastsaturnsrings @fortheloveofbuddie and as always, anyone who has something they want to share, consider this your official tag 🏷️

#daffi writes #fic: stuck now so long we just got the start wrong #rival firefighters fic #buddie wip #buddie #can’t believe there’s only 4 chapters left! #thank you to everyone for your continued love and support over this fic #it means so much ❤️

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Heya! Might I request something with a touch-starved Adam? That man definitely yearns for some genuine affection underneath all the “og dick” persona!! Thank you!

Touch-Starved Adam

Adam x GN! Reader

Warnings: General Adam TW’s, Fluffy

Request box: Open

Word Count: 1014

A/n: Thanks for the request! I’m so sorry for such an embarrassingly long time it took, I hope you enjoy! Sorry!!!

This man is 100% the most touched starved Angel in heaven. and he doesn’t even know it.

He knows he feels a constant absence when around people, especially when he’s alone. Genuine affection is just not something he has a lot of. Any winner who meets him sees him as an idol (How could they fucking not -Adam probably), any sexual partners only want just that, sex. Which, don’t get him wrong he LOVES sex but it’s just not the same.

The closest he gets to genuine casual affection is Lute who is, to be completely honest, ALSO touch starved so she rarely initiates any contact herself. But Adam loves any form of casual physical contact from her, fist bumps, putting their hands on each other's shoulder, whenever they shush each other. Adam may pretend to hate it but that little bit of contact has been keeping this man going for these countless years.

This is where you come in. You were a recent human soul to ascend to heaven. You had tried to do your best on earth and this was your reward for good deeds. You was a little shocked, not expecting you’d have been the best during life, but hey! You’re here now so, Yay!

Your excitement lasted a total of 5 minutes before you were crushed under the heels of near 20+ winners screaming something about “it’s him!”, only stopping once your halo was thoroughly crushed.

You picked yourself off the ground and dusted yourself off. You move your neck and pain shot through,

‘Yep, that’s gonna bruise’ you thought before turning your attention back to the crazed fangirl stampede in front of you. Over all the screaming and ogling, you heard a particular name that caught your attention, Adam. You walk over to the crowd, moving past the people. On the other side you see a tall man in white robes and a LED mask. He greeted the fans, took pictures, even signing some people’s… parts that you had rather not have seen. Eventually the crowd dispersed after getting what they wanted from him and leaving you alone with the tall Angel.

You weren’t really sure what you were even doing standing in the crowd in the first place but you were enamored by the man.

“Hey! What are you fuckin’ staring off to space for” the man, Adam you presume, yelled, now right in front of you. “What do you want? Photo? Autograph? Where do you want me to sign?”

You looked sheepishly at him before answering “oh sorry I’m- I’m not with them. I actually have no idea who you are… sorry”

Adam blinked confused before a wicked smile “oh I see well, behold your fuxking eyes, cause I’m the Adam!” He pauses for dramatic effect waiting for the excited reaction he often got only to be met with a confusing silence.

“Who?”

He scoffs “who?! You know, Adam, The original dick? The one that banged a chick a couple times and populated the beginning of humanity. Adam, ring any bells??”

“Sorry I’m not big on politics-“

Adam looked at you with both frustration and intrigue. It’s incredibly rare to meet a soul in heaven to not know who he is, let alone just not know him at all. This caught his attention though. He put his hand on your shoulder and asked to show you around to which you hesitantly agreed to.

The fact you didn’t know about his status as the first man really intrigued him. Which led to him asking you out (albeit with a lot of swearing and dodging the main question he wanted to ask) but ever since you caught on to it, you accepted his offer and you’ve both been together ever since.

Adam always initiated contact with you as much as he could. The feeling of closeness it brought made him much more happy than he would want to admit. But what really makes him happy is when you suddenly touch him without warning.

Considering he has gone most of his life without affectionate touches, his body has grown to be quite sensitive and ticklish, which he hates to admit. But it was the truth. He especially gets embarrassed when you accidentally touch his arm and he jumps, but ends up missing that slightest touch once it’s gone.

Once you found this out you made sure to give him plenty of physical contact. Regular hugs, holding hands, and eventually when he was comfortable enough, you would hold his face when he took his mask off.

That last one was the one that made him feel the most happy. Cause it solidifies your love for him. You both get look at AND get to touch the least observed part of his body than any other has.

Sometimes, after a long day of heavenly duties, all Adam wants is to go home and have you hold him, mask off. Just let you caress his face, give him a light massage as he tells you about his shitty day.

-

Your hands gently squeezed the flesh of his biceps, putting just enough pressure to make the aching muscles go numb with relief. The unmasked man’s face rest against your chest, getting comfortable by the second, his voice revealing the tension now leaving his body.

You continue putting your firm touch to a particular spot on Adam’s shoulder, feeling the knot slowly go away with each kneed of your fingers. Before moving down to the area between where his wings connect to his back.

“Fuxk- right there!”

You smile, putting pressure and massaging the area between his wings. The noises Adam was making could make someone assume some.. unholy things were being conducted. But it didn’t matter what others think.

Once you finished the massage you gave Adam a tap on the shoulder and he scooted up to the headboard , picking you up in his arms, cornering you both in his now tension-free wings like a blanket. You give him a kiss on the cheek before falling asleep in each others arms.

#x reader #x male reader #character x male reader #fanfic #character x reader #x female reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam x gn reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel Adam x male reader #hazbin hotel requests

[edensremains]

consequences

↳ summary: vox’s ars goetia girlfriend doesn’t like the limelight but you know who does? him!

↳want to see Vox in pain? there’s a part two!

↳ not my fav piece but it’s There, there’s a second part to this but it’s Vox going through it. I wrote this for myself before and edited it up….. this feels TOO indulgent like Dulce Vida😭 it’s almost midnight let me get my ass to bed… i haven’t watched helluva boss yet so ars goetia being nobility is all i know my fault yall LMFOAOOOOOO

Vox loved to be in the limelight. His girlfriend did not.

You were a person that didn’t enjoy being paraded around like a commodity, and you weren’t one! But Vox was a very public person by nature, and it was practically expected that when Vox entered a relationship, he’d make an announcement to all of Hell on a broadcast showing off his beloved. It’s not like you two were exactly subtle about their relationship, not very much anyways, you were the only one who really tried to uphold that rule of yours around the cameras. Vox loved to stress you out by practically hanging off you whenever one of his millions of cameras fixated on you two during a live broadcast.

To the public, you were an Ars Goetia that was taking an interest in the Vee’s which did wonders for their reputation, and you’d had a hand in a couple of their marketing decisions as well as their internal division. To the Vee’s, you were just Vox’s girlfriend who was practically royalty that lorded over them when they’d act up, which caused a lot of friction at first. Quick to snip them back into line whenever risky decisions that could impact their reputation were about to happen, they didn’t end up liking that much. Although you didn’t enjoy getting involved you knew that the Vee’s reputation was important to Vox, which meant you had to give a fuck if Velvette was getting into trouble or Valentino was seconds away from storming away with one of his guns in hand headed straight for the public.

As time passed, the two eased up around you and hesitantly began to accept these new circumstances. After more time, they’d come to see you as Vox’s girlfriend who lived with them and stuck around every day, just like them. Which meant Velvette could get a free model on short notice and Valentino could try and get her in the studio when he was down one whore.

…Over Vox’s dead fucking body was he letting his girlfriend star in a porno with some other fucking bastard touching you in any way, sometimes he could barely handle Valentino touching you on his more stressful days. Velvette was fine, you looked stunning in anything she made you wear.

The silence in-between those times was getting to him though.

Everything is about reputation and with you being an Ars Goetia, which is the closest thing to the royal family there is without actually being royally tied, it could elevate the Vee’s status in the eyes of hell just by association. It could have been a great story for the news, if you weren’t so vehemently against revealing your relationship to the entirety of Hell. Vox didn’t actually care for keeping things under wraps, but he likes to pretend just to keep you quiet on the matter and avoid yet another argument about the subject. Doesn’t mean he won’t still grab you by your waist and pull you in every second he can. So what if the camera’s are on? He’s allowed to want to hold his girlfriend. If his hands roam a bit, you can just slap them away like always.

Even so, he pissed you off this time.

During a broadcast, you’d agreed to make a guest appearance for their reality show in the Vee tower, it was supposed to be a focus on Velvette today with her day in the life section. Vox never took the need to hide your relationship secret too seriously, so the other Vee’s didn’t either. After her part playing model for Velvette, she’d gone ahead and retired to Vox’s floor of the tower. Sandwiched between Valentino and Vox, you were laid across their laps and idly scrolling through her phone. Valentino was pressing kisses against your neck as he watched you, trying to get you to set down the phone for your second unofficial boyfriend. Vox? He was watching the broadcast as it was playing out, it wasn’t often they did it live after all. It was risky, but it provided good content when Velvette could interact with the viewers comments immediately.

It was going great until he shifted his attention away for one moment to press a kiss to your wrist before Velvette bounded in through the doors, the camera pointed right at the three on the couch.

“Here they are—? Couldn’t fuckin’ find Val for a second but here he is! See his coat? You’d think I did that shit, but the fluff and all isn’t me, that’s actually his wings. He can alter them or whatever. Yoo-hoo, lovebirds! The two boyfriends and their girlfriend, give us a hoot!” Velvette grinned as she kept her eyes on the stream, unaware of just how deep your reluctance to be in the public eye went as she gave the camera a shake in your direction.

Immediately, Vox felt you stiffen, practically shoving the two off yourself before giving Vox a look. “Velvette!” You hissed, your eyes wide and panicked. Vox, sensing the immediate shift in mood, swiped his hand over a glass panel and the broadcast cut off, ending the show’s episode with a bang. He barely got a word in before you were storming out, heading to your own room on the floor (not that you ever used it, really, Vox’s had plenty of room for the two of you and more), slamming the door behind you and clicking all the digital locks.

Now two hours later, Vox had finally deactivated the electronic locks and let himself in after your refusal to come out. He wasn’t going to wipe the broadcast, the views were already skyrocketing beyond their usual at the announcement. Everyone seemed happy for them! What’s the big fucking deal? It’s not like anyone was really surprised. Maybe that fuck ass mentor of hers was, the one who kept her away from them every now and then for training away from the Pride ring; but who cares about that bastard really? Maybe the nobility or whatever.

Valentino was pacing around, practically twitching with the urge to go in himself and drag you back out himself. Probably to shake her around back and forth, trying to assure himself that you weren’t mad at him for some godforsaken reason that he couldn’t immediately fix with sex. Velvette on the other hand, almost tore him a new one when he’d explained the very strict rule you had about publicity. She’d guessed they were just waiting to announce it and decided to crash and do it for them, not that you were vehemently against it.

“Baby, please. You can’t stay in here forever, what’s the big deal? Velvette didn’t mean it, you know that.” Vox began with a playful lilt to his voice, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. He’d deactivated all the locks after getting sick of trying to convince you to let him in. Why should he have to beg to see you face to face in his own home?

“What the fuck do you mean what’s the big deal?” You hissed, your wings flaring out behind you as you paced around the room, your hands in tight fists beside you. “The entirety of Hell knows about us! I was fucking— I hated even making myself known to help out the Vee’s but I did it for you! Vox, this is too far, you know that.”

“Babe. If this is about the attention, it’s all positive and shit! They all love you. Everyone suspected we were too close anyways, they’re all eating out of our hands right now. Royal gossip and all that junk! Why are you being like this?” His digital screen displayed a frown and furrowed brows, his sharp claws coming up to try and touch your wing gently before you turned away, your wings pinning to your side flatly as if burned by his attempt.

Distance, silence, anger, rejection. This was all wrong. You looked like a goddamn cornered bird, wings flared in defense with a low sound emitting from your throat. It made something odd stir inside him, a desire to reclaim, to soothe her, to possess or reassert himself.

“Come on, baby, you know I hate it when we’re not on the same wavelength. Talk to me, please?” He tried to coax you into calming down enough to talk to him without it brewing into a full blown argument, his voice sickeningly sweet as he let his hand fall back to his side, although it irritated him to have to be complacent yet again about this issue. Why couldn’t you just accept the fame? You’re already at the top of the ladder, what’s some more? “They all love you and I. No one is rioting like you think they are.”

“It’s not about that.” You snap, then your expression flickers for a moment, a trace of guilt. There it is.

He doubled down, coming up closer beside you with a soft, artificial as can be, smile on his face. “Then tell me what’s going through that lovely head of yours. Why are you worried, baby? We should be celebrating right now, hand in hand with some dr—“

“I’m not in the mood, Vox. Really.” You cut in, your fists tightening at your sides as you move around him to continue pacing around the room. “I don’t want to hear about how this is a good thing, when it’s something I never wanted, not now, at least. I wasn’t ready.”

He pauses, eyes scanning your form for a moment before his grin is back smoothly displayed on his screen. “Alright alright, we don’t have to talk about it. Come back into the lobby with me and we can forget all about this tonight. Val is beside himself with anxiety, we can settle down for the night with him.”

“No—“ you begin, expression crumpling before Vox narrows his eyes as soon as the words leave your mouth.

“No?” He repeats, leveling her with a look.

“I don’t… want to just act like everything is okay. Vox, I don’t— this isn’t right. I told you I didn’t want to get pulled into the spotlight, the public.” You stop pacing, instead standing there with a conflicted look in your eyes.

“I didn’t do this, so why am I being punished?” He raises a brow, moving his screen to catch your gaze again. He didn’t care if you were being stubborn, if she wanted to talk, they’d talk. He offered you a way out and you didn’t take the damn olive branch. Typical of you when things got like this.

“Because—! Velvette didn’t know, why didn’t you ever tell the Vee’s that we were hiding it for a reason?” You’d hissed out, your hands reaching up to tangle in your hair, seconds away from pulling.

“NONE OF THAT.” Vox’s voice blared out at a higher volume, a momentary glitch flickering across his screen abruptly as his arms immediately extended out to grasp at your hands, stopping your from trying to yank on your hair out of frustration.

He watched you with an intensity as you briefly paused, then grit your teeth and lower your hands, clasping them tightly around your necklace instead.

He eased up, letting his arms extend back into him after letting go of you. Straightening himself back up, he considered your words.

“It slipped my mind.” It didn’t. “I thought they’d understand because we never made it public.” He never told them for a reason, deep down hoping something like this might happen. It worked, didn’t it? The Vee’s were the talk of the town now, like they always were, the frenzied public eating it up. Not pictured on his screen was him monitoring the comments on the broadcast that he refused to take down.

“Still, I…” Your voice wavers, and he knows he’s almost got you. He’s so close to winning this, to having you back in his arms and the publicity he wanted so desperately, having both would be so, so fucking satisfying.

And then.

“You’re not listening to me, are you? It slipped your mind? It should have been the very first thing you told them after I made it clear to you, considering we spend a lot of our time around the other Vee’s.” You seem to harden with your resolve, gaze flickering to the floor before it settled back to him.

The hell?

He was so close. What happened now?

“Baby, I—“

“Don’t call me that right now.” You interrupt, strict.

“…Alright, then. I’m sorry, but what’s done is done. I can’t take back my mistake, or Velvette’s.” He tries, his voice a faux soothing tone. “Let’s not argue, okay? I just want to hold you right now, you look so…” He trailed off. Honestly, you looked fine right now, a far cry from your earlier trembling and muttering when he’d first checked the cameras of your room hours ago.

“Take down the broadcast.”

“What?” No, absolutely not. That fucking video was earning them so much money right now, and engagement. Why the fuck would he do that?

“Take down the broadcast and put out a statement that Velvette was just exaggerating, that there’s nothing going on.” You calmly stated, then gave him a look, something he hadn’t seen before, not when you usually gave into him and his words.

“We— We can’t do that,” He glitches slightly, before forcing his circuits back into a stable flow. “That’ll just make things worse, and it’s likely been uploaded a million times over on other people’s channels for commentary.”

“Take it down and we can go back to how things were.” You repeat, posture stiffening the more and more he refused. “It’s not the first time Velvette has stirred something up for publicity, they’ll understand.”

“Baby, no. What’s done is done. Wiping it out won’t change things, it’ll just douse more gas onto the fire.” Vox frowned, his hands reaching out for you. “We can make this better. We can keep public appearances to a minimum, we can do whatever you want, but taking it down isn’t going to magically make it all better.”

He watches as your brows knit together, and as you try again. “Take it down, and we can work from there. Please.” You let out a small sigh, your wings trembling a bit as you maintain your composure for the most part.

“I can’t, you know that. People are going to think we have something to hide.” Vox takes a deep breath, unnecessarily but a habit from when he was alive, in order to keep his cool. “Baby, be reasonable.”

“I am being reasonable. I just— Why can’t you do it? Take it down, Vox. Delete the broadcast and we—“

“I SAID I’m not taking SHIT down—“ Vox glitches in a sudden surge of frustration, his screen flashing a multitude of colors before settling on an angry red that blares brightly for a few moments, a string of incomprehensible text rapidly filling the screen. “You s—sound like a fucking broken record, th—this video is making us money and you want to stop it? Who the fuck do you think pays for y—your shit? Ssssshut the fuc—“ The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them, the sudden error preventing him from filtering his true thoughts out. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK. He can see the beginning of realization of what he just said dawn on his girlfriend’s face as he immediately clamps his mouth closed, forcing himself to play damage control before things get more out of hand.

“Baby, I didn’t mean that, I—“ He begins, that soft, coaxing tone returning, a sharp contrast to the vulgar and harsh biting sound he’d just spilled out. The petname is laced with something sweet and belittling, as if this was just another tantrum about his lack of awareness about the cameras. You, however, cut in again.

“I told you to stop calling me that.” You speak up, eerily calm now. With a deep breath, you give him that same stare you had before. “You’re not listening to me. Is that what you’ve been thinking all along? You’re a fucking asshole is what you are.” You grip at your necklace, before yanking on it hard enough that the strong snaps and beads fly everywhere in every direction.

“You’re not listening and all you care about is fucking profit. Why am I sitting here wasting my breath talking to a wall when it’s clear you’ve already decided what to do? Fuck you, fuck the Vee’s, and fuck all of Hell. I’m out of here.” You seethe, hands dropping the broken string and some of the beads, and Vox watches as they hit the floor.

He’d given her that pair.

It gave him a headache to make it, but he’d done it for her because she couldn’t find anything she liked in stores. Only a fucking simp would do what he did. A bastard in love would spend their time making it even with his stupid fucking claws, who just watched them tear that shit over a stupid fucking argument on something that was clearly unavoidable. He opens his mouth to fire back another response but you take a step towards the door and all of his composure goes out the window right in that moment.

“STAY.” His voice blares out, speakers blasting with the force of his command and his screen contorts into a swirling pattern, a hypnotic expression overtaking your face the moment your eyes settle on the screen the moment you turn your head, and he sees the effects of his, immediately activated at your movements, hypnosis begin to repay benefits as you remains rooted into your place.

There’s a brief moment of clarity for him. Ah. So it does work on you after all. Then, a deep seated panic hits him. M -;You’r)e going to fffffucking kill h—hi,m.

He freezes, then forces himself into action.

With a trembling hand, he points towards the bed. “…Sit down.”

He watches as your limbs begin to move, expression blank as you seat yourself on the edge of the bed. Your wings are limp, gaze glassy as you wait aimlessly for further directions.

He swallows thickly, before re-engaging the locks on the door, then disables the swirling pattern as soon as the locks click back into place. He’s never used his hypnosis on her for the entirety of their relationship, no matter how infuriating or tedious their arguments got. He’s never been tempted enough to try, but the passing thought if it would work occasionally flickered through his mind. He almost brought it up once to ask her opinion about using it in the bedroom before he decided that was much too insane to ask during their peaceful dinner at one of the hellfire Michelin restaurants he’d taken her to. He didn’t want her to choke on her steak because he couldn’t keep his curiosity in check.

He can only watch as her expression morphs from a listless blank one to slow realization. Then, big tears start to slowly fall from her eyes, silently slipping down her cheeks.

He’s fucked up again.

“Baby, no no, no…” He moves to kneel beside you, taking your hand in his securely. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t want you to leave. Please, let’s talk about this.”

But all you do is continue to sob silently, pulling your hand away immediately.

Vox's digital heart sinks at the sight of her pulling her hand away, the tears streaming down her face like a silent accusation towards him. He knows he fucked up, did something he shouldn’t have, crossed a line he can’t uncross at one of the worst moments he could have chosen to.

“Love, please.” He pleads, remaining kneeled beside you on one knee. “I know I fucked up, I should have never— I was scared you were going to leave a-and I panicked.”

He almost wants to reach out and just bring you in, take you into his arms and comfort you, hold you until things start to make sense again, or until he’s sure he isn’t losing the thing he wanted to stay most despite it all.

“Just— Tell me what to do. I’ll do anything to make this right. Please, what do you need right now?” He hates the way he sounds right now, everything is tinged in desperation and a plea for her to stay.

“I just,” Another choked sob. You reach your hands up to harshly wipe at your eyes, more tears silently streaming down your face. “—want to go home, I don’t want to be here anymore.”

He feels a sharp jolt of pure desperation, rejection, everything he didn’t want, stab through him. He nearly glitches out again, his screen flickering before he bypasses it and forces his composure.

“But this is your home—“

“Vox, please. I want to go home now.”

"Okay, okay," Vox responds quickly, his voice a low sound, trying to soothe you despite the tension that fills the air between them. "You can go… home. I won't stop you. I just—can we talk first? Please?"

He knows he’s about to lose you, right on the edge. He knows he can’t logically force you to stay forever, you’re falling apart just at a few moments under his hypnosis, it isn’t feasible and he knows that.

"I'll have one of the cars take you wherever you want to go," Vox offers, his words laced with regret. He isn’t sure where you’ll go, but he wants to know you’re there safe. "Just let me make sure you get there safely. That's all I ask. Let me make sure you're safe."

You sniffle, your eyes reddened with more tears as you slowly shake your head. “N…No please, I’ll be okay…”

His screen flickers, limbs twitching with need. He has to force down another error from surfacing, bad enough to almost make him crash. The only thing he can do right now is agree. With a swipe of his hand, the digital locks unlock and the door swings open.

“Alright, if that’s… if that’s what you want, I won’t stop you anymore.” He speaks up after a moment, an overwhelming sense of loss washing over him as he concedes. “Just… be careful, okay? Hell isn’t as kind as you think it is.”

The least he can do is watch over you, right?

He has cameras all over the city, she’ll be fine. He’ll be watching over his beloved to make sure she gets home just fine. He doesn’t know where that is, but he’s sure to find out now. And when she’s ready to talk, they’ll talk and iron this out. It’s not like this is the end of everything, what would he tell the other Vee’s? The media? What would he do?

He swallows, then takes a step back. “Just… text me when you feel better, okay?”

“Yeah… Okay…” You nod slowly, then stand up from the bed. Your wings are curled around yourself protectively, and you begin to walk towards the now unlocked door. With each step you take, Vox twitches a bit, hands trembling with the need to reach out and stop you himself. He contemplates something, and with a grimace, his screen activates it’s hypnotic swirl. He hopes you’ll look back at him for just a moment, just for a second. All he needs is just one moment and he can get them to talk this out.

“G—Goodbye, take care of yourself. Talk soon, okay? Message me when you’re home safe.” He forces out, his screen going pixelated with various colors in a moment for a moment before resuming its swirl. You pause your steps, as if contemplating something before you swallow, and continue on your way out. Without sparing him a glance as you go.

You don’t look back at him. Instead, you mumble something he can’t catch out, probably a half-hearted goodbye, and walk out on him.

The text never comes and neither do you.

#hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #vox hazbin x reader

[signanothername]

loving the way you draw nightmare

he's so.... cynical?? is that the word?? he's a bastard is what i mean <3

Aaaah thank you!! <33333

Mean girl extremely and unapologetically evil yet still extremely traumatized Nightmare is just how i love him hdhdhsh

It just has this beautiful contrast between who he used to be and who’d he become, it’s just fucked up to think how he used to be just as kind and innocent as Dream, only to grow to be extremely cruel due to circumstances completely out of his control, he didn’t even choose to become cruel, he was simply backed into a corner and cause of it he took extreme measures to protect himself

It’s fun to think of how Nightmare’s hunger for power can be traced back to his inner child feeling so much fear

To me, the corruption definitely feeds on his own pain too, but it’s also fun to think he might not even realize why he’s so hateful anymore, except for the mere memory that the world had never been kind to him so why should he be kind in return?

It’s also fun to think that aside getting negativity to increase his power and simply spreading said negativity, Nightmare doesn’t even have any actual goal in mind when he hurts someone, he genuinely doesn’t realize how much pain he’s in himself, it’s this subconscious thing where he just wants everyone and everything to hurt, seeing others in pain just fuels something inside him that he himself doesn’t know what it is, some sort of sick satisfaction if you will, it just feels right to him

Nightmare’s broken inside without even truly realizing it, so it only makes sense to him that he breaks everything and everyone he comes across

He’s so mean 😔

#anothers ask #ano saves asks

[tortillamastersblog]

♕ No Matter What - Part 9 | Lena Luthor ♕

Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: none

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 10

________________________________________________

The anniversary of Noah’s death came and went by rather quickly, leaving me empty and numb for the past couple of days. I haven’t returned any of my mom’s calls or messages, and I have yet to call Heather. However, staying true to the promise I made to Sam, I haven’t given up on Lena yet.

Things haven’t exactly been back to the way it was before, but we’ve fallen back into our routine of polite small talk. I’ve also noticed that more often than not now, Lena finds an extra Pain au chocolat at the bottom of her brown paper bag when she orders breakfast. It makes me smile and knowing that she’s putting in the effort to make things right has made it difficult for me to stay mad at her.

A pointed look in my direction makes me snap out of my daydream and when I look up, I find that it’s Sam who’s staring at me.

I raise an eyebrow in question only for her to nod her head in the direction of the bathrooms where I can make out Lena’s retreating figure.

Oh, that’s my cue!

I spring into action and follow Lena, leaving the private dinner room filled with L-Corp executives.

When I catch up to her, she whips around with tense shoulders, only to relax when she realizes it’s me.

We’ve been at this high end restaurant for a while now and it was only a matter of time before Lena excused herself to go to the bathroom.

I have been standing guard with all the other bodyguards all night and with every passing minute I could see Lena grow more and more uncomfortable.

“Is everything okay, Ms. Luthor?” I ask when she makes no move to actually go into the bathroom.

Lena shakes her head and runs a hand through her hair. “I just— I need a break for a second.”

I frown at how stressed she seems to be and, without thinking, offer her my arm. “Come with me. . .”

She hesitates for a moment, uncertainty written all over her face, but when I offer an encouraging smile, she gives in and takes hold of my arm.

I lead her past the bathroom and past the kitchen, making sure no one notices us until I push through a door that leads to a small balcony overlooking the city.

Lena’s eyebrows shoot up and her grip on my arm tightens at the beautiful view. “How did you know about this place?”

I chuckle and admire her side profile while her eyes stay on the sparkling city. “I saw some of the kitchen staff having a smoke out here earlier when we arrived.”

She hums in acknowledgment before a comforting silence washes over us.

It’s peaceful up here and I can tell Lena thinks so too because she relaxes against my side, the stress slowly but surely dissipating.

I’m acutely aware of where she’s touching me and I try not to swoon every time a breeze carries her perfume in my direction.

The city lights are reflected in here eyes like a million little stars and for a second I can’t help but just stare.

It doesn’t go unnoticed though because a couple moments later, Lena’s eyes find mine and I quickly look at my feet to hide the blush that creeps up my neck.

A soft laugh makes me look up again and I find Lena looking at me with an adorable smile. “Smooth,” she teases in a low voice and my stomach fills with butterflies.

I choke and rub the back of my head with my free hand. “It seems like you’re feeling better, Ms. Luthor,” I try to tease back, but Lena’s face falls and her eyes drop to where she’s still holding onto my arm.

I’m about to ask what I did wrong when she beats me to it. “I hate it when you call me that,” she says, bitterness seeping into her voice.

Oh.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stutter, but Lena just shakes her head.

“Don’t be,” she mumbles. “I’m the one who messed up.”

And just like that, I’m no longer mad at her. How can I be? She feels horrible about what happened and it hurts seeing her this upset. It’s like a dagger to my stomach, and I feel guilty for holding a grudge this long.

“Ms. Lu— Lena,” I start and Lena’s eyes snap back up to meet mine. “It’s alright.”

She shakes her head, ready to interject but this time I beat her to it. “No, please. It’s okay. I’m sorry for staying mad this long. You didn’t know and I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”

Lena lets out a shaky breath and blinks back a couple of tears. Then, without warning, she throws her arms around my neck and pulls me into a bone-crushing hug.

I huff in surprise, but return the embrace, shivering when she presses her nose against the side of my neck and inhales deeply.

“Still, I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry,” she whispere and I just hold her tighter.

I could stay like this all night, but all good things must come to an end and unfortunately my phone ringing in my pocket is what ultimately forces us apart.

I take it out of my pocket, feeling hot all over when Lena’s hands slip inside my open jacket and around my back. She’s obviously not ready to let go completely just yet, but I’m not complaining.

I look at my phone and frown when I see an unknown number. I glance at Lena for a moment, but she’s lost in her own world, her eyes back on the city.

I sigh and accept the call, raising the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Good evening, is this Y/N L/N?” A man asks and his voice sounds vaguely familiar.

“I— Yes, that’s me,” I reply a little unsure where this is going.

Lena absentmindedly stars tracing small patterns on my back and I have to force myself to stay focused on the call.

“Good. I’m Neil, head of security at L-Corp and I’m calling to inform you that Ms. Luthor’s apartment has just been broken into.”

I freeze and tighten the grip on my phone. Lena notices and looks at me with concerned eyes.

I lift up a finger to signal that I’ll tell her what’s going on in a second before replying to Neil. “Okay, so what am I supposed to do now? Has the police already been informed?”

“Yes, the police had already been informed. They can’t find anything amiss at the scene, but I suggest you make sure Ms. Luthor has somewhere to stay for a couple of days. At least until we can find out how the security measures we have in place were bypassed by whoever did this.”

The first thing that comes to mind is a hotel, but the thought of Lena having to stay in a hotel room, alone, makes me dismiss that thought almost instantly.

“Okay. Thank you, Neil. Call me as soon as you know more,” I say and he says he will before hanging up.

The name Neil must have tipped Lena off because when I look down I see the worry swimming in her eyes.

“What’s going on?” she asks quietly and I sigh before telling her what happened.

She goes rigid in my arms and stops tracing shapes on my back. “Lex. . .” Is all she whispers with glossy eyes and I clench my jaw.

Of course it was him. Who else would have the means to do something like this?

Lena’s breathing picks up and she starts to pull away, but before she can get out of reach I sling my arms around her shoulders and pull her against me.

Her uneven breaths hit the skin of my neck and the panic she’s exuding makes my insides clench. “Hey, hey, hey. Nothing is going to happen to you. I told you that before, haven’t I? I promised, remember?” I say quickly and when there’s no reply I add, “You can stay with me, if it makes you feel safer.”

Still, no reply.

Shit, maybe I overstepped?

“Or, you know, you could stay at Sam’s, or Kara’s, or maybe even Jam—“

Lena cuts me off with a shaky sigh and a whispered, “No, I want to stay with you.”

I’m admittedly a little stunned by that admission. “O-okay.”

Lena clings to me and I have to fight the urge to press a kiss to her forehead.

A crash from inside the kitchen makes us flinch and we pull apart with a sigh. I duck down to catch Lena’s eye. “We should probably head back inside.”

She grimaces and nods before squaring her shoulders and taking a deep, resolute breath. I smile softly and offer her my arm again as we make our way back inside.

She takes it gratefully and when she returns to her seat next to Sam, Sam ducks her head gratefully as if to say thank you for taking care of her.

The ride back to my place is kind of awkward. Neither Lena or I say something about the situation at hand and Alfred, as always, also stays quiet.

Lena tips him when we finally get to my apartment building on the other side of the city and he wishes us a good night before driving off.

Lena looks around nervously as if Lex is about to jump out of the shadows, so I quickly guide her inside and up to my apartment.

I pull out my keys and pray that I didn’t leave a complete mess when I left for work this morning.

I wasn’t exactly expecting any guests, much less Lena, so a wave of relief washes over me when we step inside and I see that it’s pretty clean.

The throw blanket on the sofa isn’t folded and there are a few dishes in the kitchen that are leftover from breakfast, but other than that it’s fine.

Lena looks around with intrigue, her eyes darting over the various pictures on the walls before she takes off her coat and hangs it next to mine by the door.

She goes to crouch down to undo the straps of her heels, but I’m quicker.

I instinctively drop to my knees and hold out a hand for her leg. “Let me.”

Her eyes widen and so do mine when I realize what I’ve just done but there’s no turning back now.

A tinge of red makes it’s way to Lena’s ears and she looks away as she lifts her leg slightly and I reach for her calf. Her skin is hot beneath my fingers and I keep my eyes trained on my task of unfastening the strap around her ankle, afraid of what I might see when I look up.

I can feel her eyes on me and when I reach for her other leg, she places a hand on my shoulder to keep her balance.

“There you go,” I say quietly as I get back up, the heels now neatly placed next to my own shoes.

Lena’s eyes are soft and sparkling in the low light and I freeze when she leans forward to press a kiss to my cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispers and all I can do without making a fool of myself is nod in acknowledgment.

I step back and rub the back of my neck before gesturing around. “Uh— Make yourself at home, please. I’ll get you some clothes and change the bedsheets for you.“

We didn’t go to Lena’s apartment just yet to grab some of her stuff because the police is still there investigating, so my clothes will have to do for the night.

“Thank you,” Lena says, stepping further into the apartment. “But I’ll take the couch. This is your place, I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed.”

I scoff and enter my bedroom, pulling a hoodie and some sweatpants from a drawer. “No, no. You’re a guest, so you get the bed. My back is already messed up.”

I go back to the living room and hand the stack of clothes to Lena who takes them with a timid smile. “Fine. I’ll take the bed tonight. But it’s your turn tomorrow.”

The thought of her being here tomorrow as well makes my stomach flutter.

“We’ll see about that,” I tease before adding a little more seriously, “There’s a new toothbrush in the cupboard under the sink and you can change in the bedroom or bathroom. I’ll be out here and get the couch ready.”

Lena rolls her eyes playfully and brushes past me with another soft thank you which makes my heart flutter.

I go to the kitchen to distract myself and fill the kettle with water before turning it on. I grab two mugs from a cupboard and place a tea bag in each of them.

By then the water is boiling and I grab the kettle to fill the mugs.

“Y/N?”

Lena’s soft voice from my bedroom makes me look up and put the kettle down.

“Yes?” I ask, wiping my hands on a towel.

“Can you come here for a moment?”

I swallow nervously and approach the bedroom, making sure to knock on the door that stands ajar before entering.

“Yes, come in,” Lena mumbles and when I step inside I find her standing with her back facing me. Her hair is pulled to the side and she’s looking over her shoulder. “Could you maybe help me with the zipper of my dress? I think it got stuck.”

Oh my God. . . The things this woman does to me.

I clear my throat and nod. “Y-yeah, sure.”

I step forward and reach for the zipper, feeling the sudden tension in the air

It takes a couple of tries to get the zipper loose, but once I do, I slowly push it down, letting my knuckles brush against Lena’s back.

She gasps, but it’s so quiet it’s barely audible. I hear it though and once again a shiver runs down my spine.

I step back and avoid Lena’s eyes when she turns around, using one hand to keep her dress from falling off.

She doesn’t say anything and for a moment neither do I, but then the tension gets too much to bear and I whisper, “If you need anything else, I’ll be in the kitchen,” before leaving the room.

________________________________________________

Tag list: @nuianced-tck-enby @autorasexy @unexpected-character

PSA for everyone who wants to be tagged: Please make sure your blog isn’t hidden because if it is I can’t tag you. . .

#fluff #x reader #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor #supergirl cw #dcu #dc universe

[acertainmoshke]

A bit of a health rant (under the cut because it’s long and ranty not because it’s gross or anything):

So, some backstory. My Autism Thing is that I very rarely get thirsty unless it’s REALLY hot or I’ve been exercising a ton. Never really have. My parents used to remind me on a regular basis to drink water and I’ve still been chronically dehydrated my whole life. To the point that when I had suspected west Nile and went to the hospital, all freaked out and asking if my mystery virus was dangerous, the nurse said no but “the dehydration is.” I also suspect, though have limited evidence, that dehydration makes my dizzy spells worse.

I don’t know if it’s the hrt or a coincidence because it’s spring and getting warmer, but I think I’m more dehydrated lately. I’ve also been having issues with blood sugar because my antidepressants make me hungrier and I’m still trying to manage executive function enough to have a fourth meal after work.

All of this combines to make me annoyingly dizzy. Not enough to be nonfunctional but enough to struggle a bit and feel bad a lot of the time. A consistent 2 on my made-up scale where 0 is my baseline poor balance, 1 is noticeably dizzy without any actual consequences, 2 has consequences I can usually hide, 3-4 is dizzy enough to lie down and struggle with walking, and 5 is too dizzy to stand. And multiple spells every day when since moving climates it had been one every few days, and mild more often than not.

Usually I get the occasional level 1 spell at work which is annoying but fine. The problem with 2 is that it’s enough to bring on some brain fog and make my tongue clumsy (dizzy spells aren’t actually dizziness, but lack of coordination and balance which is almost the same thing). So I have to try to think in real time and speak clearly and hide that walking across the room takes focus and be a little in charge through all of that and I hate it. I don’t take my cane to work because I don’t need it 90% of the time and it seems silly even to have when I spend most of my day in one room.

I’m just so tired of feeling like this and one day I know I’m going to have one at a bad time and be late because I can’t drive. (Before moving states I more than once had to pull over on the way to school or work because my reactions got too slow to be safe).

#I feel so weird in spoonie communities sometimes #because I have a rare genetic disorder that makes me feel wretched and disables me #But doesn’t actually come with any pain #hate it anyway #like autism is a part of who I am including the sucky pets #parts #but ataxia I would like just to not be there #moshke writes #but not about writing #disability #spoonie

[murdererofthumbs]

Listen, although I do find it pretty exciting to see Kendall entering his Evil Era and actually becoming a killer, I can’t stop thinking about the consequences of him leaking all the shitty mud information they have on Logan. Like yeah, PR-wise that might be a great idea, it might actually solidify his position as a CEO (and he is obviously going to try and fuck up Matsson deal and take over the Waystar - I don’t know why he would want to captain the fucking sinking Titanic, but okay). But on the other hand, all the dirt coming out about Logan will be potentially catastrophic for Roman. Apart from the fact that Kendall is very clearly betraying his brother, literally like 5 seconds after he preached about them being a team; Roman will very likely suffer the most if stuff about Logan being an abusive father comes out.

First, it will flip his whole viewpoint upside down - he is so deep in denial and so trauma-bonded to Logan that he doesn’t even acknowledge his abuse, not even when in happens in real time. He doesn’t want to see his father as a monster and as his abuser, because that would actually require him to accept that he was a victim, that he was this beaten dog that everyone already sees him as (to one degree or another). Not to mention all the lies he tells himself about Logan and him being a good dad will go straight down the drain, and can you imagine what happens when something you believed for 40-or-so years cracks down in front of you? Kendall is about to break his reality.

Another aspect is that exposing Roman’s abuse to the whole world will likely destroy any and all opportunities that Roman ever had when it comes to rising to power (even if I’m unsure how much he actually cares about becoming a CEO). He might get some sympathy points, although I very much doubt that he will ever accept that form of pity from anyone. His image will be forever tainted and solidified as “the abused one” or the “one that was hit by his dad”. Can you imagine Roman’s reaction when that whole shitshow leaks? He does say at some point in the preview that he is finished, and although it might allude to Gerri putting out the whole dick pic situation, it might also very well be that his public image will forever now revolve around how his dad hit and abused him (his dad who was essentially his god in more than one way, who he was, and is trauma bonded to, who he came back to time and time again).

Kendall has a tendency of using his siblings trauma to forward his own position (even when he wanted to one up Logan in episode 2 by bringing up Roman’s and Connor’s trauma) and this is no different. But it’s a very easy way for him to blow up whatever alliance was ever between sibs. So yeah, I think Kendall as a killer is a great thing to watch, but also… well, Roman girl in me is already screaming in the void from the possible pain we might come to watch unravel in real time.

#succession #roman roy #like my boy might be delusional about pre-greving or whatever #but the fact is that he is for some real mental breakdown #if all the emotions and everything comes down on him like a ton of bricks #and lets not forget that Roman is innately incapable of actually dealing with his own emotions #everything he feels or might potentially feel gets locked up in a cage (hah) and the key gets immediately thrown out #he retreats into himself just to not feel stuff that might break him #not to mention that I was very carefully watching him for past 2 episodes #and just going by his breathing patterns (yes I know insanity of a fan) #but Roman seems to be constantly on the verge of a panic attack #so imagine what will happen when he will be aggressively confronted with all the shit he doesn’t want to face or acknowledge #im torn between obv not wanting it for him #but I also strive on my favourite characters being in pain #and i have not seen roman breakdown yet #and im actually a bit hungry for it #so yeah #kendall is a killer and his brother might very well be his new victim #(hopefully not in a literal sense I don’t fucking want any deaths im also not emotionally equipped for that) #succession hbo #kendall roy #kieran culkin #succession 4x04 #succession season 4 #marta rumbles poetically #succession spoilers

[boomerang109]

no because i get so stuck on how endless everything feels, how life is so long and these horrible habits i have now are part of my life story forever but

life is so long. every little good choice i make will add up. i don’t have to fix everything today, it can take time

#idk if it’s the capitalism or the time blindness or what but there’s very much an innate must be doing must be fixing must be winning #and like. it doesn’t work for me. it doesn’t help me #i just need to take my steps slowly and let progress come with me #the big picture doesn’t have to be so scary #this is literally just cause I went ‘i keep being so overwhelmed by how many relatives I want to call and calling no one. if I just break it #down and call one person a day (a) that’s better but (b) I’ll actually get to everybody eventually rather than not talking to anyone #i really want to just become someone who talks to people #like. the glue in my family if you will #like I want to just be like. hi aunt so and so. yes it is weird I’m calling you. but we haven’t talked in forever and I wanted to know how #you are. okay great ten minute conversation im gonna call you again in two weeks #and then whenever I’m with family and they’re like ‘what’s so and so up to’ I’ll actually know #cause I’ll talk to people. that’s the kind of person I want to be #and the only thing stopping me from being that person is me #yes my family doesn’t do that and it will be weird and awkward and. painful at first #but if I kept at it. think of all the lovely relationships I could build #also need to dedicate more time to my friendships!!! #responding to texts!!! #but like it’s hard #i need my adhd meds for any of these things to be more than just plans #but I have a doctors appointment in two days #and I won’t even be out of other meds yet 😎

[voulezloux]

.

#proceed at your own risk i’m back again w/ more shit #had to text my therapist today bc i had like #come to the realization that i was craving the pain that i got when i used to sh #i’m not an active harm to myself i wouldn’t do it again and im not suicidal #but i just had this intense need to have the same pain i got when i sh’d #& scared my mom <3 & she told me to text my therapist <3 #she told me to journal and idk how to fucking do that #so i have trauma workbooks coming in tomorrow as well as a copy of wreck this journal #i figured wrecking the journal would be the closest i can get to sh without actually doing it #idk my life fucking sucks rn and i want things to be fucking done i want to be future me not going through this #i feel like i’m being too dependent on bean for comfort and like that’s fucking dumb #i feel bad for just not being okay even tho i know it’s okay to not be okay especially rb #i also just knwo #that my dad is waiting for me to come back to him #hat in hand and tail between my legs to apologize for being mean to him :-( #bc obviously i’m the one who did everything wrong! #i hate being the 7 year old hiding in the pantry #i’ve been hiding in the pantry my whole life to make my dad comfortable #it also hurts to read back on the screenshots and see that my dad just doesn’t give a fuck about me #like i’m not purposely doing it but i have to remember detials when i talk about it to my mom #and it’s just a big ol reminder that my dad didn’t refute any part of my texts #that said i never felt like i was important to him or that i was an afterthought or i wasn’t a priority to him #like he cherry picked things he responded to #he focused on me calling my sister the favorite child and the park i chose instead of like #literally anything else #he apologized for making me feel like an afterthought but never told me that i wasn’t one to him which ig is nitpicky #but he never once in any of the messages tries to comfort me or reassure me that what i was saying wasn’t true #plus he threw in my face that HES been through trauma and he was just SHARING his childhood with his KIDS #like thanks dad! say it with your whole chest you don’t give a fuck about what you did to me! or the affect it’s had on me #he ‘didn’t want to trigger me’ but dude you fucking made things right with your EX WIFE and not your fucking SON

[soarrenbluejay]

Since I’ve been encouraged to actually share my funny little blorbo ideas here’s another one gang;

Danny moves to Gotham on scholarship for engineering, because the Fentons may be infamous but they’re also insanely brilliant and besides both he and Jazz are showing every sign of embarrassed child of a super genius syndrome, so while the bats are keeping a close eye on him Just In Case, duke is also thinking of introducing him to the Our Parents Are Maniacs But Anyway club maybe after the first month or so.

Gotham does not go for standard dorm living bc of his ‘condition’ and lack of wanting to constantly spook/gaslight a roommate. Besides, living with two small children is a dorm sounds like a disaster in action.

So Danny signs up as a mechanic in Crime Alley, buys himself a teeny weensy lil apartment and Makes It Work. He has been all year after showing up with a de aged Dani and Dan in Amnity after all, and that had gone,,, fine? (The entire town, observing how Danny had been getting increasingly more uncomfortable around his godfather prior to the cloning incident, then just dropped off the face of the earth for several months, the first two weeks stuck in Vlad’s basement enduring horrors and the next Too Many desperately fapping around in the Ghost Zone to get everything handled. All the clones live, all 13 of them. Bunch of them are stuck in the Ghost Zone due to constant need for ectoplasm, but eh, plenty of Zone born never leave, so. One, in the future, apprentices under a green warrior lady on Pandora’s suggestion, another is working in the Eternal Library with Ghost Writer, etc etc. so Danny eventually came back to Amnity with one small child under each arm very obviously traumatized by Somethingn with vlad and doesn’t like being alone with him,,, or touched without warning,, and immediately and passionately proclaims the kids his but struggles to explain how or why,, look some very reasonable assumptions are drawn okay. So the town does the very reasonable thing and does the midwestern equivilant of excommunicating Vlad, except it’s a lot more run him out with pitchforks vibes since he’s the Mayor. Anyway)

He is immediately loved, because while non Gothamites are usually more of a pain than they’re worth, everyone in a while someone even from out of town will just fit in so nicely it’s uncanny for everyone involved. Addams family vibes, it’s referred to as ‘making it home’, just personal hc. He is protective of all the kids playing in the parks and street girls that can totally take care of themselves on their corners but find it HILARIOUS when he just tackles a dick like a wild animal full force no warning. He can fix anything it seems, but refuses to work with weapons. Reasonable enough, people get twitchy about gangs sometimes. Danny mentions being not against Hood or anything, but he’s not going to work for him, littles to take care of and all, but had past experience with ‘Dora and that inheritance mess with her brother he was being a real prick about’ so everyone assumes it’s the equivilant of him having Done His Time and being plenty good for a life time and respects it as long as none of that petty midwestern small town hotshots bring any of that shit over here. And they don’t, because said individuals are on the other side of the mortal veil, so happy day.

See I really love deaged!Dan because he’s just a grumpy lil guy. But he’s also killed millions. He’s so protective of his loved ones, but held back by blending in and also being Smol that it comes off more bitey kitten than anything else. Dani, of course, is a terror, so she fits right in with the crowd.

And sorry gang, but a bunch of kids on their own in Gotham in a poor side of the city just isn’t going to get any attention: that’s just business as usual really. What first gets attention on Danny is not his ‘condition’ or being mistaken for a meta (which he legally probs has an argument for even without the gene bc like these bitches don’t know how metaism works anyway so) or alien (I’m 90% sure he’d be covered by the alien protection act by virtue of being half ‘not from earth’), but because Danny despite best efforts is a Weird Guy.

He grew up in what could only be described as a low level villain level and spent most of high school dealing with smack downs and spiritual invasion. He’s never really processed that any of that is not in fact Normal. Also, he’s capable of making Anything if given the insides of a toaster, blender and alarm clock, and could probably rewrite the circuits of the apartment blindfolded and improve them 1000% even if it ABSOLUTELY would not be up to code.

And sure, things slip every once in a while, bits of spectral ice here, small floating incident there, but everyone just Minds Their Buisness ya know? You really gunna mess with the guy that personally ensured that when your car got flattened by a fight with Killer Croc, you were still able to get in to work the next day by some wizardry? Really?

But Gotham is a city so cursed it’s probably in the exponents countwise, so of course there is a) a flourishing community of magic users and assorted supernatural weirdos and b) a whole lot of shit for Mega Overpowered Ghost King Danny to idly pick at day to day in order to help with his protecting other Obsession. Gotham has plenty of heroes, but by god do they need the spiritual equivilant of an electrician/priest.

Still, Danny, as a baby ancient under a facet of Kronos and KING OF THE DEAD is like, way, way out of their scope to be able to grok, so it mostly just comes off as you know, a family of banshees or something. When asked, Danny very haltingly says he was briefly dead but then revived, which neatly explains his Weird Ass aura and makes it SPECTACULARLY AWKWARD to ask further about. So everyone nods politely, and goes back to their lives after double checking no nefarious bullshit was being pulled.

Then, of course, Vlad finally tracks them down. The whole neighborhood is altered in short order because he doesn’t bother trying to hide being a Rich Bitch or how he’s sneering down his nose at people on the sidewalk. Every connects the dots when Danny paniks. Dani and Dan’s daycare are staffed with some extra, very buff set of hands within the hour. Jerry, Hood’s third in command, personally shows up to the garage Danny is working at to talk things out with him bc he knows he does t like the deal with this stuff due to past unspecified circumstances but well, they guys had already started fucking with him, you see. Stole his tires, spray painted the windows, pickpocketed him blind, and when he retreated tipped off the police to the drugs they’d planted in the glove box.

Danny might not have been born in Gotham, but he was one of them. And the Alley takes care of it own.

#basically I want a fic where it’s not the Batfam but Gotham itself latching onto Danny #also more angy lil baby man Dan in big puffy coats being protective #dp x dc #dc x dp #gotham

[sylvies-chen]

I think there’s something so deeply and intimately and morbidly true about The Last of Us’s primary thesis which is that humanity’s fatal flaw, in that very Shakespearian way, is that we are destined to care too much about one another so much so that we discard the collective entirely. like we have such a capacity to love the human race and humanity as a whole, to grow our communities and govern cities how we know best and foster such connection with the masses which we are part of, but it’s overtaken by our capacity to love even just a single other person. like one human can come into your life that creates such an intrinsic and passionate love in you— or maybe two people or a family’s worth or any small number— and you suddenly would burn entire villages down just to keep them safe.

joel doesn’t blink twice murdering to find ellie. he doesn’t look back when he decides to do what he does at the hospital later on. he has no remorse about any of it it, because this one girl has grown to mean more to him than any possible greater good could ever mean. and it’s reciprocal. ellie would— and does— do anything she can to help him, save him, protect him, and, eventually, to avenge him. because that’s what you do when you love someone. not when you love people. when you love someone.

and it’s selfish, in a way??? because we love these people and would do so much for them because they mean more to us than other strangers do. it’s exactly like an iteration of the trolley problem, actually. one track has your daughter on it and one track has fifty people. don’t even try telling me you wouldn’t go onto track B if it meant saving your daughter and her puppy dog eyes from the whimpering and pain and fear. The Last of Us says yes, you would. I would. we all would. and like yeah that is our greatest weakness, that we have such a unique ability to love a handful of people so deeply that our compassion towards community and strangers and the bigger collective starts to slip from view. but goddamn what a fucking great fatal flaw it is to have. we are all going to die and the world will burn because we loved another person too much.

#i wrote a poem about this #idk if i should post it bc i dont want to risk someone stealing it #but yeah… this concept has me really thinking #the last of us #the last of us hbo #hbo the last of us #tlou hbo #hbo tlou #tlou #the last of us spoilers #tlou spoilers #joel miller #ellie williams #joel and ellie

[cloudystevie]

scary my god you're divine

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pairing || bucky barnes x f!reader

word count || 3235

summary || he would do anything for you.

warnings || smut! dom! bucky x sub! reader, possessive! bucky, a little bit of subspace, choking, little bit of exhibitionism kink, minor pain play, daddy kink (only three times okay i'm sorry i am who i am), degradation, unprotected sex

author's note || 18+ ONLY. not proofread yet. my very first request in a very long time! Anonymous asked: Could you write a Dombucky x Subreader? And if you wouldn't mind jealous!bucky, already established relationship and his dog tags on reader? hope you enjoy nonnie! as always feel free to send in requests or any asks! feel free to reblog! enjoy!

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Today, a select few from the team are supposed to train the new agents, preparing them for the physical aspect of being an agent. Some made it fun or tolerable, like Steve and Sam, who were born leaders and charismatic. Natasha and Wanda enjoyed supervising the sparring sessions. Tony and Bruce enjoyed using technology to throw new obstacles at the agents.

Sometimes literally.

Unfortunately, your grumpy boyfriend, Bucky, just did not find any joy in training days. He didn’t like giving out instructions and praise unless it was you who was under him. He didn’t like supervising weak punches and miscalculated throws. And technology was just a straight-up no for him.

Usually, he could make himself useful with Steve, throwing out no-nonsense orders without making himself a massive part of the effort.

You were taking the elevator down to the gym floor. Fury had instructed you to check everything out and ensure everything went according to the itinerary. 

The doors open, and you glance around to ensure no immediate problems before letting your gaze fall on Bucky; his eyes are already on you. You offer him a bright smile, which he returns with a smirk, and your stomach flutters like it does every time you see him. You’re about 7 feet away from your boyfriend before you feel a hand on your lower back. You startle and turn around to face the newest agent. He has quickly climbed through all of SHIELD’s tests and proven himself to be of great value. He chatted you up last week at Tony’s charity ball, and you tried to let him down gently since you were already happily taken. Bucky was on a mission that day, and you didn’t want to add to his mental load by telling him about some punk who wouldn’t leave you alone.

Apparently, said punk, cannot take no for an answer.

“Back for more, cutie? You finally break up with your imaginary boyfriend?” Marcus teases, but really, he sounds more taunting than playful. You glance over your shoulder as you move away from his grip, and you already see Bucky glaring directly at the spot where Marcus’ hand was on your back. The stopwatch he was holding in his flesh hand shatters, and he doesn’t even flinch when Steve and Sam apologize for him, asking what was wrong as discreetly as they could but one glance over to where you were uncomfortably held hostage by the lean brunet man told them everything they needed to know. 

Bucky cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders up as he stalks towards you two. His looming presence is felt before you can see him in your peripheral vision. You glance up at him and take an instinctive step back toward his hulking body, breathing a sigh of relief because Marcus has to let up now.

He doesn’t.

“Oh hey, Sergeant Barnes, if you don’t mind I’m actually trying to talk to this chick so…” 

The way he talks about you as if you’re not right there makes you physically recoil. Bucky’s eyes harden; he’s not even squaring up to his full stature, and he already easily dwarfs Marcus. Bucky takes a step forward, and everyone in the room comes to a standstill. Everyone shuddering at the sheer anger rolling off of Bucky and the stupidity of Marcus.

Marcus huffs out a laugh. Maybe he gets a little pasty when he’s nervous because he seems to be digging himself a deeper hole when he says something about how many girls fall at his feet and Sarge, you've got to calm down. She’s not worth all that.

In an instant, Steve and Sam command everyone to return to their tasks, and the room begins to bustle again, but with a specific weary energy that was not there before. The very next second, Marcus is picked up by the collar of his black t-shirt and slammed against the wall, the room rattling with the force of it as all the recruits try to ignore the spectacle before them. 

“Touch her again, and I will kill you,” Bucky promises. “If you look at her, I will kill you. If you even think about her, I will fucking kill you. Understand?” His voice is a low grumble, the words resounding and reverberating as you watch Marcus sputter out panicked apologies and his flailing body while Bucky still looks so self-assured and composed. It's as if he’s not scaring a man to death while simultaneously making you drool.

You call out Bucky’s name, and he looks at you over his shoulder, pinning Marcus with one final glare and shove before letting him go as the agent does the walk of shame to the washroom. It’s almost like you’re frozen in your spot. You’ve seen Bucky get aggressive on missions before, but watching him be so willing to defend you, stand up for you when you couldn’t, not even hesitating for a second when he threatened to kill for you. And the worst part is, you were confident he was dead serious. 

Even worse, something about the principle of the situation was really doing it for you.

On the outside, it might have seemed like you were in shock or panic due to the agents’ actions, so Bucky whisked you away to a private interrogation room on the floor above the gym. The whole elevator ride there, his hand is protectively on your lower back, and you just watch the rigid set of his jaw and the anger and possessiveness written all over his features with unmistakable doe eyes. The air in the elevator is thick, and neither of you says a word. Before you know it, Bucky is easily lifting you and placing you on the metal table in the middle of the dull room, and his eyes are scanning yours for any hint of panic or if you’re upset. His hands cup your face gently, the cool vibranium soothing against your heated skin, and he finally breaks the silence. “You’ve gotta say something, baby. Are you okay? After this, that idiot’s going to be gone. I’m sorry if seeing me like that upset you, sweetheart-” Your rushed words cut off his ramble, “I thought that was really hot.” You say quietly and watch as Bucky’s face contorts from one of worry to one of confusion. 

“The way you stood up for me, you were so nonchalant about killing for me. I can’t lie, James. That kind of did something for me.” You continue, biting your lip and scanning him for his reaction, hoping he didn’t take your words in the wrong way. 

He’s silent for a moment. His chest moving steadily with each breath against yours. 

The next moment, his lips are pressed against yours, and you let a surprised squeak out. Your mouth slots open when his wandering hands roughly squeeze your thigh through your satin pants, getting dangerously close to the heat pulsing between your thighs. Taking advantage of your open mouth, Bucky slips his tongue inside your mouth and you buck your hips to seek some friction against your needy core. The kiss is passionate and renders your breathless as he consumes all of your senses. All you can think, see, smell, hear, and feel is James. 

His name falls from your lips in a gasp, you reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, letting your head lull to the side when he peppers sloppy kisses all over your jaw, trailing down your neck and biting and licking on your sweet spot. You swat at his firm bicep, “You’re gonna leave a mark James, stop it.” Your attempt at scolding him is weak, even to your own ears.

You feel Bucky smirk against your sensitive neck, his wandering hands cupping your ass and shamelessly groping and swatting at you. “Oh really? That’s too bad baby. Gonna be a pain to cover up.” He remarks, voice dripping in cockiness.

You scoff and bite back a whimper when he grinds his undoubtedly hard length against your clothed center. Your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself by holding onto his shoulders, a shiver crawling up your spine when a particularly slow grind nudges your aching clit. “You’re such a bad influence you know that?” Your voice lacks any real conviction. Your hips move in tandem with his, both of you sharing messy kisses and your bodies thrumming with lust and pent up energy. 

“I’ll kill anyone who even thinks about looking at you.” Bucky says assuredly, and you can’t help the mewl that escapes your lips at his words. Your hands shakily going to undo his black jeans as he messily pulls yours pants down, being considerate enough not to rip them considering there was still a little more than an hour until the SHIELD training day was over. “Bucky I need you, need you to please-” Your voice is shaky and desperate, as you struggle to unbutton his jeans. He shushes you gently, cooing at you sweetly as he easily unbuttons his jeans, just enough for you to promptly pull out his erect cock. Your mouth practically waters at his length and girth, and you spit onto your hand and begin rubbing his length, swiping your thumb gently over the tip making him hiss and push his hips into your hand. 

You bite your lip and look up at him through hooded eyes, and he slaps your hand away before tearing your panties in half, the top half covering your swollen clit and the bottom scrap of fabric falling limply against the cool table. You barely have time to scold him for ripping your panties before he’s shoving his whole length inside you in one fluid thrust. Your back arches, your legs wrapping around his waist as your buddy erupts in a shiver, a short scream escaping your lips. He swallows the noise with his mouth pressed against yours as he grunts into your mouth, waiting only a short second before he begins to thrust inside you. His thrusts are slow but hard, making the heavy metal table scrape against the floor with the force of each pass of his hips into yours. 

“You’re mine, mine to touch. Mine to have. Mine to take care of.” Bucky grunts out, his movements picking up in pace as emotion swirls in his voice, his metal hand covering your neck, forcing you to stay upright in a position that allowed you to feel all of him. You sob out, digging your nails into his bicep and nodding your head, already succumbing to that foggy feeling you felt when you were so close to your boyfriend. He tuts at you, swatting your face with his flesh hand with enough force to make you moan out and clench around his length. 

“Nuh-uh sweetheart, you’re not going dumb on me that quick. Use your words, tell me you’re mine. Tell me I’m yours.” His voice is commanding and you force yourself to look at him, pulling on his shirt and tugging on his dog tugs to get him closer, your foreheads pressing against each other as his thrusts continue to get faster. “I’m yours James, only yours. You’re only mine. No one else. Just you.” Your words are slurred as he groans out a good girl in approval and decides that he wants your shirt off. He skillfully manages to slip your navy blue long-sleeve off and unhooks your bra in one motion, freeing your tits to the cold air of the room, forcing the buds into sensitive peaks which Bucky is quick to take advantage of. His hands squeeze and pull at your tits, tugging and pinching cruelly at your nipples making you whine. 

Your bodies are pressed so close to one another, each pull of his hips making his pelvis rub against your aching clit, stray tears streaming down your face and your chest heaving and pushed up against Bucky.

If anyone were to walk in right now the picture would be nothing short of debauched. You completely bare on the table, Bucky completely clothed. Getting absolutely plowed if the screech of the metal against the floor was anything to go by. Your moans get higher in pitch and volume making Bucky grunt, another swat to your cheek making your brain foggy. “Shut the fuck up slut. You want everyone to see you getting fucked like the bitch in heat you are?” But if your moans and increasing wetness are anything to go by, yes, a deep and dark part of you does want that. Bucky laughs at you, shaking his head in faux disbelief and you wrap your lips around his dog tags, enjoying the soothing sensation brought by the cool metal. Bucky looks down at your lips wrapped around the dog tags he never seemed to take off and he let out a wrecked sound. You clench around him at the sound making his rhythm falter.

Before you can even process the loss of his proximity, your back is flat against the table and his dog tags are now around your neck, landing on your chest and glimmering in the dull fluorescent lighting of the room. Bucky slams himself back inside of you, the unmistakable squelch of your wetness filling up the room alongside both of your noises of pleasure. Your high-pitched and pornographic mewls and his low grunts and deep groans. You cry out his name as your head lulls to the side, eyes shutting in bliss as your fingers move to give your aching clit some attention. But Bucky lets out a disappointed grunt, grabbing your jaw in his hand and forcing you to maintain eye contact. “Look away from me again and I won’t let you cum for a fucking week stupid baby.” Bucky threatens. “You better fucking pay attention to who’s fucking you dumb. No need to close your eyes and imagine when you’ve got the real thing right here.”

Each of his words ignites a newfound purpose in Bucky as he pounds into you impossibly harder, his hand swatting against your cheek again and wrapping around your neck, keeping you in place to take all of his thrusts. He knows you always struggle to keep your eyes open and you don’t doubt that he will follow through on his threat. He has always enjoyed testing your weakness and pushing your limits. 

“Feels s’good. You’re so big Jamie. S’big, so good s’too good.” Your words are breathy and frail, your fingers rubbing quick circles around your aching button. A mean laugh rumbles in his chest as he watches the way his dog tags move with your tits, the sight is intoxicating and fuels Bucky to continue his torment. “There she is my dumb little baby. Couldn’t help yourself huh? Can’t help the way your brain goes quiet when I have my dick inside you.” His words should be humiliating but they only spur you on, your fingers on the verge of cramping but the jolts of pleasure are so overwhelming you can’t stop. “Jus’ need you. Need you to make it better. ‘M yours Daddy, only yours.” 

“That’s it baby, I know, I know it feels so good huh. Daddy’s here baby, Daddy’s gonna take care of his needy baby.” Bucky’s head falls back on a moan when you clench around him, your walls pulsing and a ring of cream forming around the base of his cock. Your orgasm was surely just a few moments away and Bucky’s lips curled up in a smirk.

He folds your legs at the knee, sliding you closer to him with the pressure he has on your throat, the angle making him rub against your sweet spot with each deliriously pleasurable thrust. You squeal out his name, getting even louder than before and he shoves his dog tags into your mouth, muffling your garble out unintelligeble pleads to cum. With one hand Bucky squeezes your throat, and with the other he pinches at your nipples, tugging the sensitive flesh before trailing his hand down your body and slapping your hand away from your clit, he moves his lips down to your ears, licking up your earlobe before whispering his command, “Cum. Cum right fucking now or you don’t get to cum at all.” His fingers pinch your clit and the sudden burst of pain has you tensing your legs up, squealing out nonsense around the dog tags in your mouth and reaching your peak. Your body shakes against the table as Bucky pounds you through your high, his words of encouragement falling on deaf ears as you teeter between consciousness and unconsciouness. His body overwhelming your mind and soul. 

His fingers release your throat and you look up at him with watery eyes, bringing him down to rest your foreheads against each other as he nears his own high. Your lips are pressing against each other, “There isn’t a single person in the world I wouldn’t kill for you. I would do anything for you. You are everything to me.” Bucky murmurs in a pussy-drunk stupor. But the words are true, he has said them to you before and will say them a thousand times again. You taught him how to live again, not just survive. 

A broken cry falls from your lips from sensitivity and Bucky’s impassioned thrusts turn sloppy as he moans out your name, pulling you impossibly closer as he fills you with his cum. At the feeling of being completely stuffed by him, your second release is triggered and you shake in his hold as he comes down from his high. He presses lazy kisses against your lips and rubs his hands soothingly up and down your body, easing you out of your submissive state. He gently pulls himself out, using the handkerchief he carries around to wipe your thighs clean, but letting his cum keep your pussy messy. He quickly wipes himself off and helps you dress yourself. 

A few more giggly kisses and you’re pretty much ready to go back down to the gym. Just in time to catch the final thing on today’s agenda: sparring. Bucky walks one step behind you, his hand back again on your lower back protectively as a path is cleared to the front of the ring where your friends are supervising Marcus and another recruit preparing for the second round of their match. Natasha and Wanda offer you knowing smirks and you roll your eyes with heat creeping up cheeks as you shyly glance up at Bucky through your eyelashes to find him already looking at you with a stupid smile. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek and watches with intent as Steve and Sam coach their respective agents. 

“Looking strong, Marcus!” Bucky calls out and you swat his chest making him laugh. Marcus takes one look at you, Bucky’s dog tags now around your neck and falling on your shirt, teeth imprints on your neck, and swollen lips. Poor Marcus falters, and the other recruit takes advantage of his distraction and easily tackles him to the ground, winning the second round. Bucky takes a single step closer to the ring where Sam is helping Marcus up, and the smirk on your arrogant boyfriend’s face is adorable. “Better luck next time buddy,” he says supportively. Sam flicks Bucky in the forehead, unable to hide the smile on his face, “Dumbass.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes fanfiction

[javiscigarette]

Teacher's Pet, part II

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Summary: Joel gives you a few more lessons and a few more feelings start to surface. (Picks up right where part one left off so I recommend reading that first!)

Warnings: unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, oral (m!receiving), fingering, thigh riding, dirty talk, ungodly amount of pet names, unprotected sex, virginity loss (it's the real deal this time), he's back and more annoying than ever but still just as sweet, disgustingly fluffy at times, reader has hair he can run his fingers through but no other physical descriptions, no use of y/n

w/c: ......10.5k I am so sorry

a/n: It's here! I kept changing my mind with how I wanted this to go so hopefully I landed on something good. I'm absolutely still blown away by the amount of love and support you guys gave on part one :'))) you are all incredible. Hoping and praying this one lives up to everyone's expectations

Part One

my masterlist

"Well, excuse the fuck outta me" he huffs, but the feigned offense  is betrayed by the way he’s positively beaming down at you.  "I'm about to give you the best fuckin' lay of your life, and here you are makin' fun of me." "The best fuckin' lay of my life? I haven’t even had one lay. Don't exactly have anything to compare it to." "Yeah, well, trust me. Best you're ever gonna get.” "That's some big talk, cowboy. Let's see if you can live up to that."

Getting on your knees for Joel Miller wasn’t exactly on your agenda for today. 

Not that you’re really complaining. 

He doesn’t look bad from this angle, you have to admit.  His chest looks broader from where you are on your knees in front of him, if that’s even possible. His hair is messy and tousled from where your fingers pulled and tugged with a pretty red flush spreading down his neck and chest, and the soft curve of his belly looking positively sinful. 

“First lesson is how to take a man’s pants off,” Joel starts. “Think you can handle that? Or do you need a demonstration first?” 

You scowl up at him, his words pulling you out of your transfixation on his body. 

“Shut up,” you hiss. “I can take your pants off.” 

He grins and raises an eyebrow. 

“Yeah? Go on then. Show me.”

You roll your eyes but take a steadying breath, trying your best to calm your pounding pulse and trembling fingers as you reach up for his belt buckle. The metallic jingle has your heart fluttering in your chest, and you make quick work of the rest, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans until they’re hanging open in front of you.

You stop for a moment and glance up at him. He’s looking down at you, a soft encouraging smile playing on his lips. 

“S’okay, baby. Keep goin’,” he murmurs, nodding his head once. 

You give him a small nod and a tight swallow around the lump in your throat, dropping your gaze back to the task at hand. Gently, gingerly, you hook your fingers in the waistband of both his jeans and boxers, pulling them both down simultaneously. 

A tiny, barely audible gasp escapes you when his cock springs free and bobs heavily in front of you. 

“Jesus Christ,” you whisper, too stunned to stop the words from slipping out. 

“Just Joel if fine, actually.” 

You barely even register his jab and you definitely don’t have the bandwidth to come up with any kind of witty comeback right now, your mind too busy processing the sight before you. Sure, you’ve seen plenty of dicks before, the internet can be a magical place. But this, in person, up close and so real, is an entirely new experience. 

He's big, thick, heavy, and long with a slight upward curve. The tip is flushed a deep pink, shiny with smeared precome with more beading at the slit. A few thin veins run from his base to his tip up the length in a twisting pattern, the dark hair at his base neatly trimmed. And he’s hard, so much so that it looks nearly painful and your stomach flutters know that you're the one who did that to him.

"You can touch it, y'know." Joel says softly after a few moments of silence. "It ain't gonna bite."

"Oh my god" you groan, bringing up a hand to scrub down your face as he pulls you out of your awe. 

"Again, just Joel is fine."

He laughs proudly at his own joke and you drop your hands in your lap and stare up at him in disbelief. 

"Oh c'mon! You walked right into that one, no need to get all-"

He cuts himself off with a hiss, the air escaping between his teeth and his head falling back as your hand wraps around him, squeezing just a little too tight to be pleasant. He staggers half a step backward, hips jerking away from your grip.

"You were saying?'' you ask sweetly, grinning up at him.

"Fuckin' christ, woman. You're tryin' to get me off not break it off"

You loosen your grip a little but keep your hand still and look at him with expectant eyes, waiting for further instruction. It's not that you don't know what to do, you just don't know how to do it well. How to do it for him.

You want to do well for him.

The realization should alarm you, scare you even. But you find it only spurs you on, only makes the want burning inside of you even more potent and pressing. You want to make him moan, gasp, make his body writhe beneath your touch. You want him to be breathless, shivering, and panting with pleasure. You want to make him come undone, just like you did for him.

"Okay" he starts, clearing his throat and taking a deep breath. "Lesson two is learning what he likes. Everyone's a lil different, but the basics are the same."

The nerves in your gut twist almost painfully, the anxiety of it all getting you half a second away from tapping out. 

But your decision is set in stone when he drops his hand to yours where it’s wrapped around him, giving a light squeeze before he starts to gently guide your movements. 

"Start slow,” he starts, a light strain tainting the edges of his voice. “Nice and gentle. Wanna work up to it."

You nod and watch, focused intently as if you were actually a student in class as the head of his cock disappears and reappears in your fist. His hand covers yours nearly entirely as he drags it up and down while you try and memorize where he squeezes a little tighter, when he swipes his thumb over the head. 

“Can give a little twist at the top,” he murmurs, voice low as he demonstrates what he means. “There you go, baby. Just like that,” he sighs when you do the same. 

Once satisfied, he removes his hand, letting you take control. You continue to pump him, trying to replicate the movements he just showed you. His cock is a warm, heavy weight in your hand, twitching and pulsing every now and then when you twist your wrist just right or swipe your thumb over his head like he showed you, collecting and spreading his precome to ease your strokes. 

Your confidence builds with each stroke and soon enough you start to experiment with your pace, switching between faster and slower. He gently rocks his hips in time with your hand, unable to resist thrusting forward just slightly.

The fire inside you burns even hotter at the shaky breath that he lets out above you, heat spreading through your veins like wildfire before settling low in your belly, your core aching and pulsing with it. 

"This good?" you ask concerned, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He lets out a breathless chuckle and looks down at you with heavy lidded eyes.

"Yeah, honey. Real good," he rasps, a small smile spreading across his lips.

You match his smile, biting your lip and basking in his praise, a warm, gooey feeling spreading outwards from your heart to the tips of your fingers and toes. It's like he has a direct link to the inner workings of your brain and body with how effortlessly he can make you melt, with just a soft, easy smile and a few well chosen words.

"Should I...do you want my mouth?" you ask, glancing between his flushed, leaking cock and his hooded eyes.

"God yes, baby. J-just start slow. Lick the tip, get a feel for it. Don't try to take too much right away," he instructs, his voice constricting more and more with each word. 

"So I shouldn't try to fit all of your giant cock in my mouth on my first go?" you quip, raising a brow.

"Please don't" he chuckles. "Don't want ya pukin’ all over the place. Might kill the mood," he adds with a grin.

You shake your head and let out a light laugh, the sound trailing off into a content hum when he brings his hand to the top of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, dull nails scratching lightly at your scalp.

"You're ridiculous," you sigh, leaning into the touch.

"You love it."

You do, so, so much.

"Now c'mon. You've got work to do," he teases, his hand gently tugging at your hair.

You comply easily enough, leaning forward and tenderly swiping your tongue across the slit, licking up the precome that's gathered there. He hisses, a rush of hair pushing past his clenched teeth as  his cock twitches in your hand, a fresh bead of precome forming. 

With your confidence renewed by his reaction, you do it again, pressing your tongue flat against the slit and swirling it slowly around his swollen tip all while your hand still works him at a steady pace. 

Emboldened, you take it a step further and close your lips around him, sealing them around the head to give him a slow, experimental suck. The groan he rewards you with has sparks shooting down the length of your spine.

"That's it. Good girl. Just like that," he pants, fingers tugging and tightening in your hair.

His praise washes over you in another wave of warmth, a feeling akin to a full-body shiver that has goosebumps breaking out over your skin. It strokes your ego, pride and confidence filling you as his soft moans and grunts fuel the fire burning in your belly.

Encouraged by the way he’s already falling apart, you take him a little deeper. It’s only a few inches but your lips are already stretched wide, a slight ache already settling in your jaw from how wide it's being forced open. 

You keep your tongue flat against the underside of his cock while you start to bob your head, trying to match the pace of your hand. But the motions are new and unfamiliar, your movements clumsy and uncoordinated and when he hits the roof of your mouth, your gag reflex kicks in forcing you to pull off quickly, coughing and sputtering.

"Easy. Easy," Joel soothes, his fingers scratching at your scalp again. "Try to breathe through your nose. And don't don't force it, yeah? Feels good, just the way you were doin' it."

"Sorry," you apologize sheepishly, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Ain't nothing to be sorry for. S’your first time. It takes practice. Now, c'mon. Try again. Nice and easy. And if this man tries to-"

But you're not in the mood for another Joel Miller Life Lesson, especially when he’s about to mention the other man who's name you can barely even remember anymore. 

Thankfully, his words dissolve into a groan when you take him back in your mouth, your lips wrapping around his sensitive head, tongue flat where it slowly glides down the underside of his cock as you take him deeper. 

The ache in your core is quickly growing more and more incessant. You can still feel the ghost of his fingers and tongue on you, your inner thighs wet and sticky with the memory. And the sinful sounds he’s making, whispered curses between breathy moans and grunts, are not exactly helping your case. 

You manage to take a little more, his thick cock stretching your mouth wider, forcing your jaw open even further. You gag slightly around him again but you’re determined to push through it this time. YOu squeeze your eyes shut and breathe in harshly through your nose as saliva dribbles past the tight seal of your mouth and drips onto your hand, your fist diligently pumping what you can't take.

He responds with a low, guttural groan, his hips jerking forward, chasing after the sensation of your throat convulsing around him. 

You're still only a little over halfway down and it's a quick realization that you'll never be able to get it all down your throat. Maybe you can try and practice, but it’s practically a pipe dream to even think about getting his whole cock into your throat without choking to death on it.

But that's a problem for another day. 

For the next time. 

For now, you hollow out your cheeks and suck as you pull back, tongue swirling along the underside until his cock leaves your mouth with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting your swollen, spit-slicked lips to his glistening tip. 

You use your hand to spread the wetness, mixing it with the precome that's leaking steadily from the flushed head. The smooth glide allows you to speed up your pace as you look up at him through your lashes, trying to gauge his reaction.

He's staring down at you with hazy, lust blown eyes, his jaw hanging open, panting heavily.

"How am I doing, Professor?" you tease with an innocent smile. A lazy grin slowly spreads on his face in return.

"You’re a fuckin’ natural, baby," he mumbles, his hand moving from where it's tangled in your hair to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over the apple of your flushed cheek, "My good girl."

And maybe, most likely, the words slipped out unintentionally, the heat of the moment forcing out things that he doesn’t really mean. But all the alarms and sirens in your head warning yourself to not fall too deep into this trap that is Joel Miller with his pretty words and sweet praises and soft smiles are all dead silent right now. There’s not a single part of your brain that’s trying to resist him right now. You doubt you could even if you wanted to. 

Because he just called you his girl. 

His.

To say you’re fucked would be the understatement of the century. 

You hum, pressing your cheek into his palm, wanting, needing, craving more. More of his touch, his taste, his warmth, his cock, his praise. So you take him back in your mouth with a renewed determination, spurred on by his words, wanting to prove to him that he's right, that you are his good girl. Determined to show him that you can make him feel good, that you can please him, that he'll want more of you, need more of you.

And judging by the way his grip on your hair is almost painful, his thighs trembling as he holds himself still, fighting the urge to jerk his hips forward and shove his cock down your throat, you'd say you're doing a damn good job

"Makin’ me feel so good, baby. So fuckin' good," he pants when you take him a little deeper.

You whine quietly around him as you press your sticky thighs together. White hot heat pooling low in your belly, your neglected cunt throbbing and aching, slick, wet, and messy. 

You squirm in your spot, rubbing your thighs together and grinding down on nothing in desperate search for the slightest bit of friction. You pray that the movement is subtle enough for Joel not to notice. 

As if that’s possible.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Joel starts, his tone annoyingly saccharine and condescending as he smirks down at you. “Did we forget somethin’ important?” 

Another small whimper is all you can muster, too focused and preoccupied with the way his thick length is filling your mouth, the weight and taste of him on your tongue dizzying and addicting. 

“Well look at that,” he coos, his hand leaving your hair and sliding down your cheek to cradle your  jaw. He swipes swiping over your bottom lip that’s stretched around his length, smearing the spit that’s gathered there.

“Think I finally found a way to shut ya up. We should’a done this a long time ago. Woulda saved me a lot of headaches,” he chuckles, the sound dissolving into a sharp hiss when you dig your nails into the tender skin of the back of his thigh, hard enough to leave a mark.

You pull off his cock with a wet pop, jaw aching as you glare up at him. 

"I'd shut up if I were you" you warn, the threat of your words completely lost in the breathless, desperate way they leave your mouth. "Just one good chomp is all it would take" you add, clicking your teeth together for emphasis.

But Joel's face just splits into a grin, a full blown, infuriating smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. 

"Biting huh? Now that’s a little kinky. Didn't know you had it in you, sweetheart."

"Shut up," you snap, but it still lacks any real heat, not with the way your lips are twitching at the corners, fighting a smile, your eyes undoubtedly sparkling, your heart definitely leaping out of your chest at the way his eyes are boring into yours.

"Careful, sweetheart. Might have to knock you down a whole letter grade for that type of talk. Gotta respect your professor ‘n all, y’know."

"You're insufferable," you grumble.

"But yet, here you are, still on your knees."

"And I'm gonna get up and leave if you don't stop talking."

"Leave before or after you chomp my dick off? Cause I'd really like a heads up for that, if ya could."

"Jesus fucking christ, Joel!" You huff, rolling your eyes so hard it actually hurts. "Do you ever just shut the fuck up? I'm literally on my knees right now with your dick in my mouth and you're still finding ways to piss me off!"

“What can I say? It’s a special talent of mine,” he says with a nonchalant shrug, the smug smile on his face making you want to genuinely bite his dick off now.

You drop the wet hand you had wrapped around him and start to move to your feet.

"You know what, I'm just gonna go. Maybe I'll call my coworker. He's not nearly as irritating as you," you huff, pushing yourself up onto shaky legs, your knees stiff and sore. 

But you can't even take one step before he's grabbing your waist, his large, warm palm resting firmly on the swell of your hip. His fingers flex, his grip tightening, not enough to hurt, but it's enough to halt you in your tracks. You're not particularly fond of the way your heart skips a beat in your chest, the way you can feel goosebumps breaking out all over your body from just his touch. 

He pulls you in closer until your chest is pressed against his, hard, wet cock pressed against your bare thigh.

"You really think you’re gonna leave with your pussy drippin' all over the place like that?” he says, his voice seamlessly switching from teasing to low and rough as his dark, hungry eyes bore into yours. “You're about to ruin my floors with the way you're leakin' right now, baby. Wouldn’t want that, now would we?” 

Your cheeks flame with embarrassment from how easily he was able to see your desperation, and with anger at how right he is. 

"Shut the fuck up, Joel," you mumble, giving him a weak push at his chest. "I'm not leaking I-"

The rest of your sentence stays lodged in your throat when his free hand slips between your thighs. Two deft fingers drag through the slick mess, collecting your arousal and spreading it around, a soft, wet, obscene sound filling the space between you. 

You don't even think to stop the high pitched, breathy whine from escaping your lips when he slides a thick finger inside you with no warning, your pathetic sound dissolving into a moan when he immediately follows it up with a second one, his palm pressed flat against your clit.

"Not leaking, hmm? Sure don't seem like it, baby," he purrs, his voice a low, rumbling drawl, his warm breath fanning across your cheek. "Feel that? How easy it was for me to get two fingers in ya?"

"Fuck," you whine as you dig your nails into the bare skin of his shoulder, hanging on to him and desperately searching for any semblance of stability as you try not to sway on shaky legs.

He crooks his fingers in you, fingertips digging into the spongy spot on your front wall that has your knees buckling, tiny stars dotting your vision momentarily as a rush of arousal gushes out of you, a pitiful whimper falling from your lips. Joel chuckles, low and dark and the sound shoots straight to your neglected clit, a bolt of lightning arcing down your spine.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he murmurs, nosing at the sensitive skin below your ear, the faint scrape of his beard against your cheek sending a shiver down your spine. 

The feeling of him removing his fingers is a cruel, sudden jolt, the emptiness and lack of pressure and friction has you keening, a needy, impatient noise bubbling up from your throat.

He's moving before you can complain though, stepping around you to sit on the edge of the bed and then promptly pulling you down onto his lap. You let out a small squeak of surprise as he forces you to straddle his thigh, pulling you down until your aching cunt is seated firmly against his bare skin. The position has his cock pressing against your hip, a drop of precome smearing against your skin.

"Fuckin' soaked for me, honey,” he drawls, his fingertips dimpling the soft skin of your hips. “And to think you were about to leave without gettin' what you came here for.” 

You can't even speak, too enraptured with the feeling of his strong muscles flexing subtly under your hypersensitive clit. So you ignore his teasing and just grind down instead, past the point of desperation. 

But he would never let you win that easily, would he? 

He laughs and tightens his grip on your hips, stopping your movement and holding you in place.

"Ah-ah, not so fast, baby. Let's talk about the terms first."

You give him the best glare you can muster while suppressing a needy whimper. 

"Terms?"

"Yeah. Terms. Of all this. Like if this is a one time thing, or if we're gonna be havin' regular...lessons," he replies, his hands slowly sliding up your waist and coming to rest on your ribs, his thumbs stroking the undersides of your breasts. 

"If you're gonna go out with this guy," he continues, his thumbs brushing over both of your nipples. "Or if I'm the only one who's gonna get to see this," he says, leaning forward, his warm breath fanning over your skin. You bite your lip, holding in the soft, needy moan threatening to spill out when his lips press to the hollow of your throat.

"If I'm the only one who gets to have you like this. If I'm the only one who's allowed to touch you. To kiss you," he says, punctuating his last word with a kiss to the center of your chest, his hands squeezing the swell of your breasts, his tongue flicking out and licking at your nipple.

"Or do you plan on letting him have you too?" He asks, the tip of his tongue swirling around your nipple before closing his lips around the pebbled peak, sucking it into his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing it before he pulls back. "'Cause I'm not too keen on sharin', baby."

You take a deep steadying breath, trying to clear the thick haze that's clouding your mind and focus on his words, his questions about the fucking terms. 

And you do think about it, about your coworker who's been nothing but so sweet to you, who doesn't get on your nerves in under a millisecond. The coworker, Micheal, you think, his name finally returning to you, who doesn't tease you and play games and leave you a panting, needy, dripping mess. 

And while he is really such a perfect gentleman, he isn’t the one that’s been there for you, listening to you complain about all the shitty things that have happened to you in the last year. He isn’t the man that lets you use him as a punching bag whenever you’re frustrated, has never been the calm, reasonable voice that challenges the anxiety that overwhelms you and threatens to pull you under. 

Michael has never held you when you've cried, never helped you cook dinner after a hard day at work, never fixed the flickering light in your bathroom. He certainly has never dropped a key to his front door in your palm accompanied by a lopsided smile and the words just in case ya need anything. 

Michael isn’t the one who’s been the one to pick up your pieces and put you back together, so gently and tenderly, making you even better than you were before.

It's useless, trying to avoid it. Trying to push it down, bury it, ignore it, how you've been feeling and what you want. 

It’s Joel.

All of it. 

You want Joel. 

All of him. 

You've wanted him since the day you showed up on his porch with a six pack. You've wanted him all those times you watched from a distance as he fixed something in your house, so capable and competent, casually waving away your slew of thank yous. You wanted him every single time he invited you over for a movie night, sitting close enough to you on his couch that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. You wanted him every time he made your blood boil and your eyes roll so hard you swore you could see the back of your brain, and every time you genuinely thought you were going to smack him. 

And now, you have him.

Right here, naked and hard and underneath you, your pussy leaking on his thigh. 

The answer is so painfully obvious, the words falling from your lips before you even have a chance to process them.

"M'not gonna see him," you finally manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Want this. Want you."

Joel hums, indicating that he heard you. But again, he would never let you win that easily. 

"Speak up, baby," Joel says, releasing your nipple with a soft pop, his eyes dark and intense, a predatory, feral glint in them. "Can't hear you."

And it's infuriating and annoying, absolutely maddening. And it's the last straw.

You're not sure if it's the frustration, or the pent up desire, or the heat burning inside you, or the fact that Joel's still hard, and still leaking precum against your hip, as your cunt slides against his thigh, but you break.

You absolutely shatter.

"I want you!" you practically shout, hands balling into fists where they're resting on his shoulders. 

"You, okay? You! You and your stupid, fucking, annoying ass, and your dumbass pickup truck, and your stupid, charming grin, and the way you always call me 'baby', and 'honey', and 'sweetheart'. It drives me fucking insane!  And the way you're always fixing shit, and being so fucking helpful and sweet and you always, always make me laugh, and smile, and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by in the past year that I didn’t think about you and I can’t get you out of my fucking head, not even for a single fucking second.” 

The words spill from your lips in a breathless tirade, and it feels good, freeing. It's like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, like a great burden has been taken off of you. 

But the feeling doesn't last long.

Silence stretches between you and it's suffocating, oppressive, and you feel like the walls are closing in on you, panic rising in your chest.

Your cheeks burn, nauseating embarrassment and humiliation coursing through you as you realize the full weight of what you just word-vomited all over him. Your chest heaves, and you hang your head, unable to bring yourself to look at him.

But then, a bright laugh sounds through the otherwise quiet room. And your eyes snap to Joel's face, only to find him smiling.

He's fucking laughing.

"Joel!" you scold, a mixture of mortification and confusion washing over you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he placates, but the laughter in his voice doesn't help to ease your nerves. "I didn't mean to laugh, it's just...I just can't believe how dense you are."

The daggers you shoot at him are truly deadly. 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Do you think I just go around callin' everyone 'baby' and 'sweetheart'?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"I..." you stammer, trailing off as his words sink in. 

"I mean, my southern charm is one thing,” he says, obnoxiously wiggling his eyebrows. “But you’re seriously thick if  you think I'm like this with anyone else.” 

You stare blankly at him, trying to process what he’s saying. 

“Do you think I let all the neighbors just use me for free handy work, think I cook dinner with all of them, think I keep a stash of everyone’s favorite snacks in my pantry, give everyone a fuckin’ key to my front door? And you think I just go around agreeing to sex lessons to anyone who asks?” He rambles, squeezing your hip. 

Your brain is reeling as you try to wrap your head around everything. 

"Well...no” you stammer, your brows pinching together.  “But…"

"How many other girls you seen me bringin' home? Huh? How many other girls you see me with?"

"None" you admit sheepishly.

"Mhm. Because I don't. Not since you moved in next door."

You frown, confusion clouding your features. You open your mouth to speak but Joel cuts you off.

"I like you, baby," he admits with a sigh. "A lot. Maybe too much. But I wasn't about to lose you as a friend just because I'm crazy about you. And if being your friend is the only way I can be close to you, then I'd take it and die a happy man."

You can only stare at him, the words he just spoke bouncing around in your brain, and a warmth blooms in your chest, your heart fluttering wildly in your ribcage.

"Are you kidding me?!" You exclaim suddenly, hitting his shoulder.

"Hey! Ow!" he barks, his eyes widening as he grabs his shoulder. "The fuck was that for?!"

"You've been trying to sleep with me for a whole year?!"

"I wouldn’t say trying," he says with a casual shrug. "Just waiting. Wanted you to take the lead but you’re a little stubborn, baby."

You scoff, glaring at him, not missing the way his lips twitch at the corners, the way his eyes sparkle with amusement.

"So, the reason why I haven't been able to catch a break the entire time we've known each other, has been because you've been trying to get in my pants? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Well, that part is just natural. You're just too easy to get riled up. And that’s not my fault."

You open your mouth to argue with him but his sliding over your hips to palm at your ass and his lips are ghosting over the shell of your ear, his beard scraping against the sensitive skin.

"But no, I can't deny that I like it," he rasps, his breath warm against the side of your neck. "The way you get all fired up and angry, your face all flushed, your chest heaving. Mmm, it's nice. You look real pretty when you're all worked up and pissed off," he whispers, his lips curled in a smile when he presses a kiss to the spot below your ear before pulling back to look at you. 

"Why didn't you tell me,” you say, voice softer now, the rough edges of your tone smoothed out by the feeling of his lips on your skin.

"Didn't want to make it weird. Didn't want you to think I was some creepy old man and ruin our friendship" he explains with a small shrug. "But then you came over here tonight askin’ for a sex lesson, which was not easy by the way, acting like I wasn't already about to burst outta my pants as soon as you asked. Thought for sure you were onto me. But then you started going on about that douche canoe Michael-"

"Joel."

"And then I got jealous and pissed, and figured it was time to cut my losses and just enjoy it while I can, but-"

"Joel."

"Then we were kissing and you were touchin’ me and you're so fucking sexy and-"

"Joel!"

"What?"

"Just kiss me, you idiot" you breathe, and before the words are even fully out of your mouth, his lips are on yours, crashing into you with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs.

It’s bruising, searing, all consuming.

His fingers dig into the meat of your ass as he pulls you forward, the seam of your pussy dragging deliciously against the strong muscles under warm skin. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair, and tug, the base of your spine tingling when he groans softly into your mouth, and you grind your hips against his, the wet heat of your cunt grinding into his thigh, pulling another soft, low sound from his throat.

"Fuck" he groans, pulling away just far enough to press his forehead to yours, his breath coming in quick, sharp pants, his chest heaving. "Baby, are you still okay with this?" he breathes, voice ragged and gravelly.

You look at him as if he's grown a second head.

"Are you serious?"

""I...well, I was serious when I said I'd be fine with being your friend, and I don't want you to think I'm tryna pressure you into anything."

You can't help but roll your eyes, the soft, endearing side of Joel coming out at the worst possible time.

"I literally just admitted that I've had a crush on you for months, and now I'm sitting on your lap, soaked, and grinding on your thigh and you're worried I don't want this? I think you might be the dense one here."

He grins, wicked and wide, a flash of sharp teeth, the dimple in his cheek deepening.

"Guess so," he says, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

You don't respond, and instead choose to silence him by pulling him into a kiss, licking at the seam of his lips and sucking his tongue into your mouth. He groans softly into your mouth, and you swallow the noise, rolling your hips again, chasing the sweet friction that's sending a delicious heat through your veins.

"God, baby," he breathes when he pulls back for air, hands on your ass gripping and guiding you against his leg, encouraging your movements. "Makin' such a mess, ain't ya?"

You bite your lip, nodding as a wave of arousal surges through you.

"Yeah, you are. Soakin' my leg, sweet girl," he says, his eyes flicking down between you, watching as your pussy drags along his thigh, coating him in a shiny, slippery sheen.

"Fuck, Joel, please" you whine, your hips jerking and rolling against him.

And that's all the encouragement he needs.

In the blink of an eye, you're on your back, Joel hovering above you, a wild look in his eyes.

"Don't worry, baby," he says, his voice low and husky, and he trails his fingers over your hip and up your ribs, his touch light, teasing, barely ghosting across your skin and it's almost ticklish, making you shiver. "M'gonna take care of you. Gonna make you feel so good."

Your heart thunders in your chest, and your cunt throbs, your arousal leaking out of you. It feels like you’re about to crawl out of your own skin, the desperation growing with every passing second. 

He trails his fingers down your sternum, and over the flat expanse of your stomach, goosebumps breaking out across your skin in his wake, the muscles under your skin rippling and twitching at the soft, fleeting touches.

And when he reaches the crease of your thigh, you let out a shaky, trembling breath, and he chuckles softly, his lips curling into a crooked grin.

"Eager, are we?" he teases, dragging his fingers over the slick flesh between your legs, gathering the wetness pooled there before slowly sliding a single thick digit inside you. "We're gonna get there, baby. But gotta make sure you're ready first. Don't wanna hurt you.”

You whimper, your walls fluttering and clenching around his finger, and your hips roll forward, seeking friction, wanting, needing more.

Joel curses under his breath and groans softly when your wet, warm walls constrict around his finger. His cock leaks and twitches where it’s pressed against your thigh, and you whimper, both of you caught up in an endless cycle of keying each other up. 

"Please, Joel" you beg, and the words come out soft, pleading, and desperate. You should probably be embarrassed at how quickly he's reduced you to a begging, quivering mess, but the way his eyes go dark, and his pupils blow wide, makes the embarrassment worth it.

"Please, what, baby?” He prods with a devilish smirk. “Use your words"

"You're such an asshole" you snap, but the venom in your voice is diluted with pleasure as he slips another finger inside you.

"You keep saying that. What d’ya want me to do about it, sweetheart? You want me to stop?" he taunts. 

"No!" you cry out, reaching down and grabbing his wrist with an iron grip when he starts to pull out. 

"Then tell me what you want, honey."

"Fuck you,” you mumble weakly. 

"Mhm. Okay, honey" he drawls,  his thumb moving  to circle around your clit as his fingers curl inside you, still pumping in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. . "I'll just wait then. Take my time. Tease your pretty little pussy until you can't stand it. I'm in no hurry, baby. Gonna take all night, if that's what it takes. I've waited this long."

"Joel, please" you whine again, the ache between your thighs turning to an unbearable burn.

"Tell me what you want,” he repeats casually. 

"You," you try with a needy whimper.

"Me? You got me, sweetheart. What else?"

“Oh my fucking god can you please just fuck me? Or do I have to spell it out for you, old man?"

"There she is," Joel says with a laugh, his grin splitting his face "There's my girl"

And then his fingers are gone and you whimper at the sudden emptiness. But before you can protest much more,, they're sliding back in, this time joined by a third.

Your hands fly to his shoulders, gripping him, nails digging into the soft flesh of his muscles.

"Oh fuck" you pant, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he starts pumping his fingers again. 

"Gotta get ya ready, baby" he breathes, and his lips are ghosting along your jawline and up the shell of your ear, his breath warm.  "Such a tight little pussy, but we'll get you nice and open, don’t worry.  Then I'm gonna sink in ya, fill you up real nice. Take real good care of you, baby. Fuck you nice and deep, make you forget your name. Would you like that? Hmm?"

A strangled moan is all you can manage in response. His words, filthier and more deranged than any you've ever heard him speak before, sending your brain into overdrive. 

You can’t help but roll your hips, and bucking, and gyrating, meeting his thrusts as his fingers pump in and out of you, the lewd, wet, sloppy sounds filling the otherwise quiet room, and the coil in your gut is threatening to snap.

"Joel, Joel, fuck, oh fuck" you chant, your hazy and thick with pure arousal. It drips down your spine and flows through your veins, liquid heat burning, searing, and  scorching you from the inside out. 

You manage to open your eyes long enough to look down and see the tendons flexing in his wrist, the muscles and veins in his forearm bulging as he works you, his face brows pinched in concentration as he focuses on your reactions. 

"Oh shit, honey," Joel curses breathlessly, a smug grin stretching across his lips as he feels your slick pooling in his palm. “So messy, baby. You gonna cum? Hmm? Gonna be a good girl and lemme feel your sweet little cunt clench and drip even more around my fingers?"

You whine, throwing your head back against the pillows as he thrusts his fingers into you, the heel of his palm rubbing deliciously against your clit. Your fingers scrabble for purchase, desperately seeking something, anything, to ground yourself. You settle for the firm muscle of his arms, your nails biting into his skin and leaving bright red marks that'll undoubtedly leave little half-moon bruises later

"Fuck, yeah, c’mon, sweetheart, lemme feel. Give it to me."

You come with a cry, the dam breaking, the tension in your gut exploding outward, a wave of euphoria crashing over you, washing through every inch of your body. Your legs tremble and shake, and Joel works you through it, his fingertips nudging that spongy spot inside you, dragging his thumb across your throbbing clit, milking you through the aftershocks, and when you start to come down, you're panting and breathless, your chest heaving.

You look up at Joel, and his eyes are blown wide, the deep, rich brown of his irises nothing more than a thin, dark ring around his dilated pupils. There are no words, at least none that you can manage to articulate at the moment, so instead you let out a breathless laugh, and a contented hum, a smile spreading across your lips.

Joel grins, laughing, and he leans down to capture your lips in a chaste kiss.

"Good girl" he breathes against your mouth, his words a low, rough rumble that has you keening. "That feel good, baby?"

"Fuck, yeah" you sigh, melting into the matress. 

"Good,” he says before pressing a kiss to your forehead then pulling back to look you in the eyes again. “ Think you're ready for me now?"

“Mhm,” you murmur with a lazy nod. “Want you, Joel.” 

Joel laughs, the sound sweeter than it’s ever sounded before.. "You've got me, sweetheart. You've had me. Always will."

"That's awfully fucking sappy," you tease breathlessly, threading your fingers into his soft dark hair. 

"Well, excuse the fuck outta me" he huffs, but the feigned offense is  betrayed by the way he’s positively beaming down at you.  "I'm about to give you the best fuckin' lay of your life, and here you are makin' fun of me."

"The best fuckin' lay of my life? I haven’t even had one lay. Don't exactly have anything to compare it to."

"Yeah, well, trust me. Best you're ever gonna get.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, raising a brow at him. 

"That’s some big talk, cowboy. Let's see if you can live up to that."

Joel barks out a laugh, the sound coming out more like a snarl, his eyes flashing with something feral, predatory, and dangerous at your challenge.

And then he’s abruptly pulling his fingers from you then  bringing them up to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the slick coating his fingers. The sight nearly puts you into cardiac arrest.

"So fuckin' sweet" he murmurs, his eyes slipping closed momentarily, and a low, satisfied hum rumbles in his chest. It's downright obscene, the way his lips wrap around his fingers, how he licks and sucks, cleaning your arousal off of them. 

"Joel," you breathe, your voice nothing more than a shaky exhale.

His eyes snap open, and he gives you a lopsided smirk. 

"Sorry, baby,” he starts, pulling his fingers from his mouth and wiping them on the blanket underneath you. “Can’t help myself. Just had to taste ya again. Gonna have a hard time not doing that every time,” he finishes with a sly smile. 

Every time. 

The words are like a shock of electricity shooting through your veins, setting your blood ablaze. Every time. As in multiple times. 

How the fuck is this real? 

He  stupid smirk is still glued to his face as he leans over to rummage around in the drawer of his nightstand. Your brows furrow when he pulls out a condom and goes to open it. 

"I...uh..." you start, but the words die in your throat.

"What's wrong?" Joel asks, his smug expression immediately morphing into one of concern.

"I...well...it's just, I'm- I'm on the pill… We can use a condom, but...it's not necessary…just wanted to put that out there. In case, you know…you didn't wanna use one. Since it's not...like, not entirely necessary,” you say quietly, casting your eyes down to where your fingers fiddle with the edge of the blanket. 

"Ahh, I see,” Joel responds, all too pleased. “You just want me to raw dog it, huh?” 

"Wha-no! Oh my god, Joel, you are so fucking embarrassing," you groan, covering your face with your hands. 

"S'okay, honey, don’t be embarrassed. It is all part of the full Joel Miller Experience anyway,” he reassures you with a sickeningly sweet tone.. 

"Oh my fucking god, I told you not to say that ever again,” you groan, shoving at his shoulder, which only makes him laugh. And you can feel yourself smiling too, despite how irked you are.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop," he relents, still laughing a little. "If you really don't want me to use one, I guess I can make an exception, just for you"

And it's as if he knows that you're about to lash out at him again, because he leans down and presses his lips to yours before you have a chance to say anything, all the fight in you draining away as soon as his mouth is on yours.

"You tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispers when he pulls back. “Or if I do anything you're uncomfortable with, or if you just need a break. You let me know, okay?"

You nod.

"Promise?"

"I promise, Joel. Please just get on with it."

"Impatient" he breathes, but  kisses you again nonetheless, soft, slow, and tender. And when he pulls away, his eyes are searching yours like he's looking for any signs of hesitancy. But all he sees is the same raw desire reflected back in your wide, eager eyes. 

You see the exact moment that the last vestiges of his self-restraint disappear, his gaze growing darker and hungrier as he pushes himself up to sit back  on his knees, one  hand around the base of his cock, the other  on the inside of your thigh as he tenderly spreads you open and settles himself between your legs.

He teases you of course, dragging his length through your folds, letting the swollen, leaking tip catch on your clit before sliding back down to nudge at your entrance. You whimper, and try to grind against him, but his hand is firm, holding your hip still, not allowing you any friction.

He hushes you softly, his thumb gently stroking the soft, delicate skin where your hip meets your thigh. "Just let me do what I need to do, baby. Let me take care of you.” 

"You're evil," you whine, squirming underneath him.

"Yeah, well, that's a matter of opinion" he grunts, your breath hitching when he lines himself up and finally, finally pushes the blunt tip of his cock inside you.

Your lips part on a gasp, the feeling of his thick head stretching you open, the slight burn of the intrusion, a mixture of aching and pure pleasure. And you can feel his eyes practically burning holes in your skin, drinking in every little reaction, every flutter of your lashes, every twitch of your brow.

"How's that?" he asks, his voice tight and strained. He looks just as wrecked as you feel, his jaw tight, a sheen of sweat already on his brow, the muscles in his forearms bulging with the effort of restraining himself.

"More," is all you manage to rasp out, pushing your hips up, trying to get him to sink deeper.

Joel grunts, and then obliges, his eyes screwed shut in concentration as he tries to feed you only a little more of his considerable length. You can see him chewing on his lip, his nostrils flaring, a slight tremble in his thighs, his fingers digging into your skin.

"Jesus fuck, you're tight" he grits out, his chest heaving as he tries to regain some of his composure. "I-I didn't…fuck, I didn't think- shit. God fuckin' damn, baby"

You smile a little, the corners of your lips curling upwards. It's the first time you've ever seen him truly at a loss for words, and it's a very welcome change. 

You reach up and card your fingers through his hair, his eyes fluttering closed, a sweet sigh escaping his lips at the feeling.

"I can take more," you say softly.

Joel shakes his head, his brow furrowed. "Not yet."

But you don't listen. Not that you ever really listen to him. 

Your impatience gets the best of you and you push yourself further down the bed, forcing another inch of his cock inside you, your walls fluttering wildly around him as you let out a low moan. 

"Ah fuck, honey," he groans, his eyes flying open.

"C'mon, Joel. More. Please," you beg, grinding down on his cock, taking just a little bit more with each roll of your hips until his fingers dig into your hips so hard, you're sure they'll leave bruises.

"Baby stop fuckin' movin'" he hisses, his grip tightening even further. "Please."

You can hear the strain in his voice, and you can feel him trembling above you, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing and tensing.

"Why not?" you pout.

"Cause m'tryin' not to fuckin' come right now, alright?" he grunts, his teeth gritted. "So please, just stop. For a minute."

"You can't possibly be serious," you breathe, a smile creeping on your face again. "You're not even all the way in yet."

He glares down at you, his eyes narrowing. "Not my fault you're fuckin' tight as shit. It's like your cunt is tryin' to strangle me."

You giggle a little, the sound coming out breathy and light. You don't miss the way Joel's cock twitches at the sound.

"You're being so dramatic," you sigh, rolling your hips again.

"Fuck, honey, please," he begs, his eyes pleading, and the sight is almost enough to make you stop teasing him.

Almost. 

You can't help the devilish smirk that crosses your face as you bring your hand up to his cheek, stroking your thumb across the stubble on his chin. He lets his eyes fall closed again, leaning into your touch. 

"This isn't very 'best lay your life' behavior."

"I will fuckin' strangle you," he mutters, his eyes still closed, a smile playing on his lips.

"Is that part of the Joel Miller Experience too? Because I don't remember seeing it in the brochure. Was it next to the premature ejaculation section? Or maybe the-"

The air is knocked right out of your lungs, cut off mid-sentence when Joel pushes forward. He keeps it slow but unrelenting, sinking into you in one smooth, fluid motion. You cry out, your back arching off the bed, eyes screwing shut as your fists twist in the blanket underneath you. 

It's more than overwhelming, it's absolutely mind melting the way he buries himself completely, stretching your walls, forcing them to make room for him, to mold perfectly around his length. You gasp for air between harsh pants and weak cries, the sensation of him filling you up, so much bigger than you expected, so much thicker than his fingers. You squirm underneath him, trying to get used to the feeling of his tip pressed against your cervix, the pressure building deliciously as the ache radiates from your core through your belly, to the tips of your toes.

"That what you wanted, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice strained and gruff, one hand still gripping your hip as he presses the other into the mattress by your head, holding himself up. "Is that enough for you?"

You struggle to find words, but you're not even sure if there are any in the English language that can convey just how good it feels.

"Uh-huh," you nod, blinking rapidly as the edges of your vision start to blur. "Fuck, Joel. You're so fucking big, oh my god."

You hear him chuckle, and he presses a chaste kiss to your temple.

"Not too much though, is it? Cause you were begging for more just a second ago. Thought you could take it, sweetheart," he croons, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

"No, no, 'sgood, " you whimper, the words slurring together as he starts to grind into you. "F-fuck. Joel. Shit, that feels so good. Holy fuck.

"There's my good girl," he murmurs, pressing more kisses to your cheek and your jaw, trailing down the column of your neck. His lips brush against the sensitive skin, his breath hot against you. He lets you get used to the feeling, cursing under his breath and trying to think of anything else but the tight, wet heat convulsing around his cock.

"Doesn't hurt?" he asks with a sudden tenderness, his voice vibrating against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"No," you sigh, finally starting to relax around him.

"Good. You gonna let me know if it does, right baby? Or if you need me to stop?"

You nod weakly. "Mhm."

He kisses you then, a soft, languid, and lazy drag of his lips against yours. He slides his tongue along your lower lip, and you let him in without any hesitation, parting your lips with a breathy sigh. He takes the opportunity to swallow down every little sound that spills from your mouth, kissing you with a kind of reverence, a kind of tenderness, a kind of patience and passion that makes your heart feel like it might beat right out of your chest. 

He pulls away leaving you even more breathless and dizzy, your lips tingling and swollen. And you're not sure if it's because of the kiss or the way he's stretching you so fucking wide, but your fucking drunk on it. 

He kisses you once more, on the corner of your mouth, his lips curling up into a smile when you nuzzle against his cheek, seeking out more.

"You still with me, honey?"

"Yes, yes, I'm here," you answer, your voice sounding far away, distant and dreamy. Joel chuckles, the sound making you smile. 

"You wanna keep going, sweetheart? Or d'ya need a minute?"

"I'm good, I'm good," you assure him, trying to lift your hips a little. "You can...keep going."

"Alright. Let me know if you change your mind, okay?"

You nod and then close your eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath as Joel pulls out, just a little, his cock dragging along your walls. It's another wave of overwhelming sensation, your entire body shaking. But it's nothing compared to the feeling when he pushes back in. The same full, aching, almost painful stretch, except it's somehow even better this time, your walls gripping him tighter, pulling him in, trying to keep him there.

"Fuck, oh my god, oh my god," you cry, your breath catching in your throat, your eyes fluttering open to look up at him. "Oh, Joel, fuck."

He's hovering over you, his brows furrowed in concentration, the muscles in his arms, chest and stomach flexing and contracting as he moves above you.

"Good?" he asks, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow, his eyes hooded.

You answer with a nod, followed by a long, low moan when he starts to slowly pull out again, pushing back in a bit faster this time. He builds a rhythm, the slick drag of his cock filling you up again and again, each thrust a little deeper, a little harder, a little faster.

"You're taking it so good," he pants, his hips snapping against yours with a particularly hard thrust, the force of which has you keening and crying out his name. Your walls clench around him, a gush of slick pouring out around his cock as you subconsciously try to pull him in even further.

"God you're so fucking tight, baby. Fuckin' soaked too, dripping all over me. Fuck. So fucking wet and perfect," he groans, his voice sounding strained, almost like he's in pain. "Such a good fucking girl."

You can't do anything more than just lay there and let him fuck into you, the sounds that spill from your lips a mix of moans, whimpers and desperate little cries. Your brain feels like mush, all thought processes reduced to a single loop of his name, your lips chanting it over and over.

And Joel's not much better, the only coherent words out of his mouth a string of praises, calling you his good girl, telling you how well you're taking him, how fucking tight you are, how heavenly you feel. His hands are everywhere too, caressing, stroking, kneading, squeezing, leaving no inch of your skin untouched.

He finds a steady rhythm and you know it's not nearly as hard as he could go, not by a long shot, but every thrust and drag of his cock hits you so deep and so hard, it's a miracle that you don't shatter beneath him. And the sounds, god the sounds are so obscene, the slapping of skin against skin, the wet, squelching noises of him pounding into your dripping cunt. It's a chorus of pure debauchery, music to both of your ears, only adding to the building pleasure. 

And just when you start to think that it can't possibly get any better, he hits a spot deep inside you that has your body bowing, a strangled cry tearing from your throat. You clamp down around him and he curses, his hips stuttering, his rhythm faltering for just a moment.

"There it is," he grunts, and you can hear the smug smirk in his voice, the absolute bastard. "Right there, huh? That the spot?"

He doesn't wait for you to answer, pulling almost all the way out, and then driving back into you, hitting the same spot dead-on. And you keen and wail, your body thrashing wildly as a new wave of ecstasy washes over you.

"Yes, yes, yes," you chant, clawing at his back, digging your fingers into his shoulders.

"Yeah, I got ya," he husks, leaning down to suck and bite at the skin just below your jaw. He keeps pounding into that spot, making sure to hit it every damn time, and your vision starts to blur again, black dots dancing at the edge of your eyes.

You don't even realize you're about to come until it's crashing into you, a sudden and violent wave that threatens to tear you apart. And Joel can tell, from the way you start to shake, the way your walls are clamping down around him, the way your legs lock around his waist, and the way you're desperately gasping for air, that you're right there.

"There you go, sweetheart," he coos. "You're so fucking close aren't ya? I can feel it. You gonna come on my cock? Huh?Gonna let me feel that tight little pussy coming all over me?"

"Oh god, Joel," you sob, tears welling in your eyes, his words alone pushing you even closer.

"I know, honey. I know. Just let go, baby. C'mon, that's it. You can do it."

And then he's snaking a hand between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing rough, tight circles against the swollen bud, and the pleasure reaches its peak, the coil in your belly snapping, sending you careening off the edge. Stars burst behind your eyelids as the most intense, powerful orgasm of your life tears right through you. Every muscle in your body tenses and contracts, the rush of blood roaring in your ears as white-hot bliss erupts throughout every fiber of your being, your walls pulsing wildly, gushing slick around his cock.

He's there with you every step of the way, murmuring praise in your ear, fucking into you and grinding his cock against your cervix, prolonging your orgasm, extending it for what feels like an eternity. And then you're boneless, spent, and helplessly limp, barely aware of the way he's still rutting against you.

"So good, baby," he rasps, his voice sounding wrecked and broken. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

And then you feel him start to swell and his thrusts become erratic and you know he's right there with you, teetering on the edge, ready to fall. A few more pumps of his hips, his pace frantic and uncoordinated before he pushes himself back up on his knees and pulls out of you with a hiss. He jerks himself for half a second before spilling all over your belly and your cunt, hot, thick ropes of cum splashing against your skin. He grunts and hisses through clenched teeth, a few last drops spilling out onto your pussy, his cock throbbing against you.

You feel completely and utterly destroyed, every part of your body buzzing and tingling, still trembling. And your head feels stuffy and foggy, a hazy, peaceful kind of bliss settling deep in your bones.

Joel slumps down next to you, breathing heavy, a low, rumbling groan escaping his lips. You glance over at him, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He's a sweaty, disheveled mess, and the sight makes your heart ache and swell, a rush of warmth flooding through your body.

He notices you looking at him and turns his head to meet your gaze, his own satisfied smile matching yours. You can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling out of your throat and spilling past your lips in a breathy giggle. Joel's smile spreads even wider, his eyes sparkling.

"What's so funny?" he asks, propping himself up on his elbow and rolling onto his side.

"Nothing, I just," you giggle again, and it's almost a hysterical kind of laugh, a nervous kind of relief flooding through your body. "That was…"

Joel chuckles, brushing a lock of hair out of your face, his fingers trailing across your forehead.

"Yeah, it was," he says, his voice a low rumble.

"And I…I just really like you, Joel. A lot. I don't know. I guess I'm just happy."

His face softens and he stares at you for a moment, his expression so fond and tender that you forget how to breathe for a moment. He leans down and kisses you, his lips gentle and warm before he pulls away. 

"I guess I like you too," he murmurs, his signature smirk playing on his lips. "I dunno about a lot, but-"

"Shut up, you ass" you giggle, slapping his shoulder. "I'm trying to have a moment."

He hums delightedly and presses another kiss to your forehead."M'kay, you have your moment. I'm gonna clean you up, alright?"

You pout but let him go, letting the afterglow of your climax envelop you until he returns a moment later with a warm wet cloth. His touch is tender, gently cleaning between your legs and then wiping the cum from your belly. You're still shaking, every touch sending little aftershocks through your body.

"So," he starts, tossing the cloth into the corner of the room before looking at you expectantly. "Best lay of your life?"

You laugh, your heart bursting at the seams, your cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so hard. 

"Not even close."

Thank you for reading!! I apologize in advance for any errors I do not enjoy editing!!

tagging those who asked and who might be interested:

@shewantstoknow @pedritoferg @khindahra @wand-erer5 @akah565 @thereaperisabitch @first-edition @lilyevanstan1325 @lovelyjess69 @elliesswearjar @iloveenya @harriedandharassed @c2ss1e @paleidiot @starry-eyes-love @lola8888673 @saguchiya @milla-frenchy @cayleejz @missyorkswhore @farrowroyale @abbyandersonsragdoll @glimmering-darling-dolly @katiexpunk @worhols @thecasualnope @ahintofkiwistrawberry @lulawantmula @sawymredfox @prismaticpizza @serenadingtigers @venturawriter @kyloispunk @millercontracting @jjhayhay20 @bitchesuntitled @bean-is-reading @lvl-2005 @kamcrazy123 @covetyou @survivingandenduring @pinkiec6-rubi @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @pedroshotwifey @perfectlyfreeanalyst @plsdontmisfire @lokigonnakmsforbucky @kr-ickl3

I will not tag ageless/faceless (no pfp) blogs. If you asked to be tagged and weren't you either did not have an age/pfp or Tumblr wouldn't let me :(

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller #pedro pascal characters

[dante-mightdie]

Not enough suffering. I need to cry.

The boys just continue to pretend that reader no longer exists. Becoming more of a fly on the wall then a roommate they occasionally fuck.

Soon they just leave you out of everything, dinner? There was not even leftovers for reader, no scrapes left either.

Reader won't leave because they will soon come back around tho right? >:')

god I just love PAIN

c/w: neglect, angst, no happy ending in this one, brief mentions of sex

it becomes a very depressing and very predictable pattern from them. wake up, avoid you then go to sleep. even when they speak to you, they’re never saying much. normally just a reminder that you left dishes in the sink or something mundane

you held out hope for the first few days, especially when simon came slinking over to you one night in the kitchen, bending you over the counter and having his way with you. his rough hands and fast pace made your heart swell solely because you missed having one of them even touch you

but when he just buckled up his trousers and left without a word, you realise you’re still on time out

sometimes you’re asleep before they get home, locked up in the spare room as you sniffle into your pillow. they don’t even come to check on you and you begin to wonder what conclusion they came to on your whereabouts. do they even know you’re at home? do they care?

every day of the month, you and the boys are supposed to set aside a night to go out for a date. seems your invite was lost in the post when you see them all dressed up, talking amongst themselves about the pub they’re going to

“can I come?” you ask, standing in the doorway and playing with your fingers nervously. the laughing and chattering stops instantly, all four heads turning to you as if they didn’t even know you were there. you know what the answer is going to be before any of them say anything

“you won’t like this place. it-“ john starts, and you know he’s about to list off some lazy excuse as to why you won’t like it. as if that was even the point. you don’t go on date nights with them for the actual drinks or decor. you go to spend time with them but they clearly didn’t want you there so you simply wouldn’t go

“whatever.” you mumble, rolling your eyes and turning to leave what was once your shared bedroom so they don’t see the tears in your eyes. you slam the door to the spare bedroom, throwing yourself onto the mattress and sobbing into the pillow

you hear a light tap on the door before it opens. you cease your crying almost instantly, keeping your back turned towards the door. your heart rate picks up and that sick familiar feeling of hope crawls its way back into your chest, “we weren’t saying you can’t come with us. come if you want just don’t make us wait around forever whilst you get ready.”

the sound of kyle’s voice fills the room but you can tell he doesn’t really want to be speaking to you, like simon or the captain told him to come do some damage control so you wouldn’t throw a strop about not being invited. you keep your back turned to him, nuzzling your head further into the pillow

“jus’ go without me.” you sniffle, “it’s not like you really want me there anyway.”

kyle sighs at your words and you hear your door softly click close and everyone’s feet shuffling downstairs before they go out the front door, leaving you alone again

#mw2 #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #poly!141