#fucking. the other day i saw a comparison of like

[rxttenfish]

honestly every insect or especially ANT metaphor when it comes to unknowable cosmic entities and humanity turns absurdly funny the second you know anything about insects.

like ah yes. pitiful meaningless humans in the face of cosmic terror. who nonetheless are the reason everything is the way that it is to eldritch entities and the reason to which they owe their existence, who nonetheless are some of the most irrationally feared animals to exist in contrast to their actual physical abilities, who have shaped the course of history and who will shape it evermore. animals which very suggestions to their form sends eldritch deities into a panic and utmost horror, despite how common it is, how widespread, how beloved the design is by creation.

and to add in the ant metaphor like these people have NEVER stepped in an anthill. like ants arent some of the most feared animals by every other animal in the world, like dedicated ant-eaters arent actually rather rare, like plants, even greater deciders of the shape of this world, havent befriended and built great homes for ants for the purpose of deterring every other animal which might bother them.

you know.

those insects. those ants. meaningless. helpless. worthless.

#all the care guide says is 'biomass' #yes this is why i have such a hate love relationship with cosmic horror #fucking. the other day i saw a comparison of like #''oh a construction crew wouldnt stop building a house because a colony of ants asked them to stop'' #and im just #sir you have a very limited experience of ants #because that has absolutely happened #hell this isnt even getting into shit like bullet ants im just thinking about the common species you find #a fire ant would humble a god #likewise: termites. who do not cut nearly as terrifying a profile and yet nonetheless your monuments mean nothing to

[bangcakes]

.

#uh.... LOL so yada yada yada u know what im gonna talk about JDJDJD GOD HELP ME #i just realized........... that u know. usually on the 15th (bc timezones) im like super hype bc sjs birthday #but LMAO........ i so happen to be seeing.... my .... crusheroo on that day so Zjxjdjkdkdkd HOW LIFE CHANGES WOW #i didnt realize til i saw a bday (old) set of sj n i was like WAIT FUCK DID I MISS HIS BDAY. ONLY TO REALIZE. IT WAS THE SAME DAY.... #hhhh but god. ya i did it. i survived a whole month without seeing him. but like bc we message or whatever occasionally (and my #frequent daydreaming lets be real) it didnt feel that long !!! wow !! proud !!@ #like realistically i knew i could do it bc i went like. 4 months without seeing him JDJJDJDJDJD #god imagine. i spent the whole summer trying to get over him. only to see him 1 time n have everything come back #but WORSE. BC. RECIPROCATION????????? #god lmao. feel like im never gonna be over this. feel like i could even be married to him everyday n id be like WOW HOW DID THIS HAPPEN???? #shits so weird idk. idk. im just NDJJDJDJDJD HOW DO WE GET TO THE NEXT STEP #BUT AT THE SAME TIME. I SHOULD GET TO KNOW HIM BETTER. GOD ITS SO DJFJFKKFKDKDKDKKD #like this is what its like to really like someone huh. all those other crushes i had were like.... a 0 in comparison #like wtf is this. when everyone else had crushes and liked ppl is This what they meant. jfc #idk if i could go thru this again JDJDJJDJDJD. hope hes it. ya #id promise to save everyone n never talk about this again but we both know thats not gonna happen ANDNDNDNDND #personal

[hella1975]

i got a bonus + raise and ive only been working like 3 months im soso excited sorry i just wanted to tell someone

AH THAT'S SO EXCITING! im so happy for you bestie <3

#WHEN IS IT MY TURN! #did i tell you guys that there's a waitress at work who not only is younger than me BUT has only been there like 2 months #and me and one of the OG waitresses (she's been there even longer than i have and there's a real solidarity amongst the OG crowd now) #were talking to this waitress and she goes 'oh yeah i get paid £10.18 an hour lol. DONT tell anyone' #and to contextualise this england has minimum wages that differ based on age brackets #where it's like £5 for under 18s. £7.49 for 18-20 (my bracket) and then it jumps to £10.18 when you turn 21 #so this 19 YEAR OLD NEW WAITRESS was getting paid the wrong minimum wage bracket that baso saw her earning £3 extra an HOUR #than us. which is an insane amount to build up over a long time like ik it doesn't sound like much but TRUST ME it is #and i felt a bit bad for her bc she's new to waitressing and generally quite naive and it SHOWS #like if they put ME on the wrong pay bracket id take that shit to my grave i would NOT risk that being taken from me #but she was just joking with us clearly expecting a PLATONIC social interaction and not a WORKPLACE interaction #like at the end of the day im friends with the people i work with and i not only like this girl but hold nothing against her #BUT NOT ENOUGH FOR IT TO AFFECT MY LITERAL WAGES!!!! I NEED THAT MONEY!!!!! #so yeah me and the other waitress fully snitched and i kinda hoped management might give us some sort of hush bonus #but all they did was lower the girl to the appropriate wage which. fair and again i feel bad for her but WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ABOUT #so yeah thats MY luck with wages anonstie lmao ur thriving in comparison <3 #ask

[aretrothing]

.

#this is a scream into the void don't read unless you want to #i'm so done and i just want next week to arrive already #i don't know anything about what's happening next week #i haven't been told anything other than get there for the morning #i haven't seen anyone apart from my family really for weeks #all my friends have been busy and my best friend came over just to do induction work #we didn't talk at all #i'm lonely and i miss my friends #it's been three weeks since i last spent any quality time with any of them and i'm used to seeing them every day #to top it all off i have to be in the same room as my ex on monday and the last time i saw them through the window of a coffee shop #it still felt like i was being punched in the stomach and it's been 5 months #i don't know what i'm doing next and i don't know anything and everything was so clearly laid out in my head for what i was doing before #and i don't even know what subjects i'm doing because i still haven't fully decided #the only thing i know is that i'm doing a comparison of birdhouse on the side which will be nice #i just want to know what i'm up against and what's going to happen next #what my general direction is because i have no fucking clue at this point #my head's been a mess since the week before results day and while i'm miles better i'm still not right #i want to know if all of it is going to be worth it #if what comes next is going to be worth all the effort i put into it and i'm going to enjoy it and so many other things #i'm so sorry for clogging your dash with this i just don't have anywhere to put this other than a diary and i don't have one on me right now #vetty talks #delete later #screaming into the void

[girlwiththegreenhat]

seeing that someone I follow was also at anime Midwest makes me wonder if we passed at some point at the con? how many people I follow on Tumblr have I passed in person but didn't know? If you were win cosplay I may have even taken a picture with you? Small world huh?

small world! :V i was not in the cosplay contest as a cosplayer, but my brother was and you can spot him from a mile away (HE WAS IN THE CONTEST AND WON BEST PROP AND I WILL CONTINUE TO SHOVE IT IN EVERYONES FACE HEEHEE)

(... if you saw a scrungy looking lilith clawthorne guiding him around like a blind puppy because he can't see for Shit with this thing on, dat me :3)

#liz blogs #anime midwest #amw #cosplay #armor #WE BUILT THIS TOGETHER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM VERY EXCITED ABOUT IT ITS VERY COOL #i painted a lot and made some of the accents hhjsdjfhsdf i am good at weaving and braiding barbed wire And Paint #we were on stage together so Anybody who stuck around for the winners portion definitely saw me #i look so unimpressive and awkward by comparison lmfao and it was so loud i couldn't hear shit so i'm just bumbling around like a fool #he said he wanted me with him on stage both as a guide and bc i helped so much #this was mostly unpainted 1am the night before the con and he said if it weren't for me it wouldn't have gotten done #i paint Fast #he did not. sleep. he was up All night finishing it then he slept 40 minutes in the car and Conventioned all day #he made my cosplay too though but he made it before anime central a few months ago #dudes dedicated. he deserves it #he literally added all that fur. friday night. in the hotel room. after wearing it all day. no sleep. dudes cracked hes insane hes batshit #the blade glows orange through the cracks but the battery died after his performance </3 #i did not need to spend this entire post yelling about my brothers cool costume but i did actually because it IS very cool #giant glaive! a gun on his back you can't see here! the knife in his pocket! three fucking props he is NUTS #... i forgot i also mostly painted the other two props <3 that was me also #i can't foamsmith for shit but by god can i paint #.................................................. anyway! yeah maybe we saw each other 👁👁

[unwantedtomost]

so dirty — miguel o’hara

dbf!miguel o’hara x fem!reader

word count: 888

summary: miguel, who just so happens to be your dad’s best friend, fucks you in a bthroom

warnings: dirty talk, degradation, unprotected sex (i’m back to my old ways)

a/n: hehe two in like a day? look at me go. send me requests because i need more ideas.

“We shouldn’t do this,” came out of your voice in a tired tone. You tried to fight it but it got harder every time. How could you fight something that felt so right?

“I know, amor.”

Then he kissed you and you stopped fighting. 

Things got dirtier every time he touched you. The first time he kissed you he was so soft, so delicate. He touched you like he thought you could fall apart in his hands. Now he was bending you over the bathroom sink with the whole neighborhood in the backyard—not to mention your father, his best friend. He still loved you all the same, you never doubted it for a moment. Something about the switch felt right. This was a dirty little secret, not a Romeo and Juliet love affair. It was meant to be dirty.

He used to kiss every inch of your naked body, muttering how much he loved you every time his lips left your skin. It was a harsh comparison to how he shoved your panties to the side and rubbed his rough fingers up and down your slit.

“You’re soaking,” he stated with pride. “This all for me, honey?”

“‘Course it is, Miguel.” Sometimes you try to be soft in times like this. He’d give you a small smile then it would leave. His eyes were hungry, you almost felt like prey.

“‘Course it is,” he repeated before bending you forward.

He spit on his hand, pumping himself a few times. He rubbed the head of his dick against your clit, causing you to shutter. So dirty.

“Beg for it.” Your brows knitted together, giving him a confused look in the mirror. “You heard me. Beg for it.”

“Give it to me,” you demanded, standing your ground.

His large chest was flush against your back, his chin grabbing your chin and making you look into his eyes. His lips brushed against your ear and his other hand gripped your hip like a vice. “I said beg. Or we’re going back downstairs right now.”

It wasn’t the worst threat in the world but at some point these little hookups became something you needed. He knew that. He felt the same way too.

“Please, Miguel,” you whined. “I love you so much. Need to feel ya inside me so badly. I promise to be such a good girl. I promise. I’ll be such a good girl.”

The tiniest smile came to his lips as he saw the tears lightly brewing in your eyes. God, how he loved you. He planted a sweet kiss on your temple. “Such a good girl, only for me, yeah?”

“Only for you.”

Suddenly, the head of his member entered your entrance. You gasped, causing his hand to clasp over your mouth. “Got to be quiet, amor, yeah? We can’t have anyone find out what a dirty little whore you are for me.” He quickly pushed the rest of his length inside of you. You screamed into the palm of his hand, gripping down on the countertop.

“Fuck, princess. Best damn pussy I’ve ever had. Such a good fucking girl.”

His thrusts were brutal and you loved every second of it. Something about the strange circumstances made something dormant in Miguel come out. He said the dirtiest things. His mouth sputtering whatever came to mind as he pounded into you like both of your lives depended on it.

“Letting me fuck you while half the neighborhood is in the backyard. You wanted me that bad. You’d let me fuck you anywhere, wouldn’t you, honey? Want to be my little fuckdoll. Let me take you wherever I want. As long as we don’t get caught, right?”

You nodded vigorously as your eyes screwed shut, your head resting on Miguel’s shoulder. He let you stay like that for a while until his fingers started to rub your clit.

“Look at me,” he cooed. You had no choice but to pry your eyes open and look at the disheveled state of the man you were falling in love with. “Keep looking at me when I make you cum on my dick. Look so fucking beautiful.”

You had to use your last amount of strength to keep your eyes open, losing all control of the noises coming out of your mouth. Both of you were glad that his hand was clamped over your mouth. You tried to hold back your orgasm just a little bit, something you did often in these scenarios, you wanted to hold on just a little bit longer.

But it was always impossible. As soon as he figured out what you were doing, his fingers worked quicker.

“Please, cum for me baby,” he begged. And how could you refuse him? Quickly the coil snapped and you turned to absolute putty in his hands. “I love you, honey. I love you so much.” He whispered in your ear as he came inside of you. “Love you so fucking much.”

Slumped there, panting, you had that terrible wave of realization of the predicament you were in. Doomed to be in love with a man you could never really be with. Banished to a life of dirty secret hookups in bathrooms. But you didn’t need to worry about that now. Not when he was smiling at you.

“I love you too.” 

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #smut #oscar isaac smut #oscar issac

[angelltheninth]

One Inch at a Time

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, first time (with Miguel), size kink, cockwarming, gentle sex, nipple, cock riding, affirmation, porn without plot

Word count: 1k

Ao3

A/N: I think Miguel has a real gentle side to him when having sex cause of his size.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Miguel hissed as he watched you position yourself on top of him. Normally he would be on top but he figured since you commented on never having someone as big as him before it would be best to let you ride his cock at your own pace. He couldn’t stop his big hands from shaking as he grabbed hold of your hips, lifting you up, the tip of his cock brushing against your clit and your slick dripping down on it and down his length, “Oh fuck.” His cock pulsed with need.

He couldn’t just bury himself inside of you, he needed to wait, for your sake.

“Miguel. What’s wrong? You said I could ride you.” He’d been fingering you and eating your pussy for the past hour or so, leaving it slobbering wet, “If I’m not wet enough now I don’t think I’ll ever be.” There was also his cock, with the head sticky with pre-cum, looking so tasty. You knew well how tasty he was, you spend many nights fucking your fingers and toys while he fucked your mouth, but now was finally your pussy’s turn.

Eagerness aside you knew he would be a lot for you to take, most your toys paled in comparison to his size and thickness. It was a little scary when you saw him for the first time but you sucked on his cock like your life depended on it and have only gotten better at it since.

One of your favorite ways to suck him off was while he was in his chair, your knees propped up on his shoulders and his hands holding your ass cheeks firmly, his tongue poking, licking and prodding at your pussy, your tongue vibrating against his cock from the mutual pleasure. You watched him fuck many if his toys from the videos you sent each other too, imagining it was your pussy instead. “Gonna fuck you just like this sweetheart, just like this.” Miguel would promise as he would unload into the toy, showing you how much flowed out after.

“I did say that, and you can ride me. I... don’t want to see you hurt yourself. I know I’m a lot and there no need to take all of me.” He was always mindful of his larger size in comparison to you. The fact that he could toss you around like a ragdoll, or use you like a fuckdoll in this case made him mind go places he was scared to bring you along for. “If I hurt you... I wouldn’t forgive myself. This is supposed to be pleasurable for us both.”

“And when have you denied me my pleasure, Miguel? Did I ever tell you I was unhappy with your performance? Were you with mine?” You teased as you tried to break free from his hands, only riling him up further.

“You know I’m happy. Promise me to go slow.” This felt like something you should be asking him, he’s the one with the massive cock. When you smiled and nodded, batting your lashes at him you felt his grip let up, not leave but ease a little. With a deep breath and an encouraging smile you stretched yourself around the tip, “You have no idea how much I want to go all in. I’ve been thinking about fucking that pussy for months now.”

Shit, you thought you could take him easier. Your dildos don’t do him justice at all, and after this you know for sure that they won’t. “I wanted your cock so many times Miguel, on so many nights. When I’d see you walk back I wanted to drop down and suck you off so bad. You drive me crazy, not having your cock drives me crazy.”

“How do you think I feel?” Miguel’s eyes roamed your body, taking in all the hickies he left so far, going all the way down to your clit, “With a body like that it’s a miracle you haven’t brought me to the brink of insanity yet. Every time I see you my cock gets hard, its impossible not to think about fucking you day and night. Although I don’t think your body can handle that.” He had such a smug aura about him as he gloated about his stamina. Cocky, for good reason too.

“You let me worry about what I can or can’t take okay? You stay hard for me hm?” Yeah, like you needed to tell him that, he had the opposite problem. “You... feel... so... good... inside... me.” With every word you sunk down a little more, your whimpering painful and a big distraction for Miguel.

“Stop if you can’t-”

“I can!” You persist, taking more before you have to stop, your pussy clamping down around his cock, your nails scratching down his abs, leaving marks you didn’t mean to leave. “S-Shit. Sorry. Let me try again.” You gave him a small smile, your body trembling above his.

Miguel bit his lip and tried to soothe you by massaging your thighs. His contact was reassuring, as was the warm way his eyes looked at you. Maybe you didn’t have to take him but you wanted to, more then anything you wanted to feel his cock fully sheathed inside you and... “Fuck! Oh my god... yes...! Finally where you belong.” You almost felt dizzy, orgasming as soon as he was inside, “N-Not yet.”

“Oh. Hey. Look at me.” You let tears of frustration run down your cheeks when he cupped your face, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m really, really proud of you okay? You’ve a good girl for me, taking me all the way like this.” Miguel beconed you closer for a sweet, comforting kiss, “Rest. My cock will stay hard for you when you’re ready to go again.”

No one had a boyfriend more understanding then you, in any universe. You snuggled against Miguel’s strong, soft chest, your walls pulsing and trembling around his cock, feeling little squirts of cum pumping inside of you but for all that Miguel didn’t move, he wasn’t tense but fully relaxed underneath you, his knees bent just a little as his hands explored your bare back, shushing an comforting you. You gave him your all, which is more then he ever dared to ask, he couldn’t be happier.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara smut #spiderverse x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spider man x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse #spiderverse imagine #spiderverse headcanon #spiderverse smut #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader #atsv imagines #atsv headcanons #atsv smut #atsv miguel #miguel drabble #marvel x reader #marvel x female reader #marvel imagine #marvel headcanons #marvel x you #marvel smut

[crispy-armpit]

✧ 𝓼𝓪𝔂 𝔂𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓮 ✧

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴊᴏᴄᴋ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

(۶ૈ ᵒ _ᵒ)۶ૈ=͟͟͞͞ 🏈

⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘫𝘶𝘮𝘱 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘧. 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭'𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘰𝘺, 𝘓𝘪𝘢𝘮. 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭.

⭒ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵: 𝘨𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 & 𝘫𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯����𝘴, 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘫𝘰𝘤𝘬, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘺 𝘫𝘰𝘤𝘬

⭒ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 741 words

⭒ a/n: thank you all so much for the support and appreciation!!! i never expected my story to be so well loved :') i will be uploading yan!rockstar pt.2, yan!sea god, and a masterlist after this one! <3 (god i hate jocks)

will you venture down this path?

pop music blasts throughout the forest, bottles of discarded alcohol litter the ground, and a hundred or so young adults looking to mess up their lives dance around the large bonfire. mid-semester exams have just ended and you and your friends have decided to go to Jean Marley's party.

you are now gathered around a smaller campfire with your friends, sharing stories and laughing alongside them. Jean, the star of the party, suddenly speaks up, "who's up for a game?" a collection of voices yell out their own versions of an agreement.

"alright, let's play... truth or dare!"

"i'm pretty sure this is how horror movies start, yeah?" someone whispers into your ear.

you turn to the direction of the whisper, eyes mere centimetres away from Liam's own hazel ones. a small giggle leaves your lips as you take a sip from your cup, "if this was a horror movie, you'd definitely be the killer." Liam gasps dramatically and clenches his dark varsity jacket where his heart would be.

"you'd suspect me?! agh, how could you—"

"oh, come on! don't you think that'd be a great plot? dumb jock— who's not actually dumb— hunts down all his friends, and seemingly has no reason to do so. why would he? he's rich, popular, and has everything he could ever ask for! it's the perfect plot twist."

"well, I could think of one reason why..."

"oh? and that is?"

he moves in closer, and you could smell the faded scent of his expensive cologne mixed with sweat. his sharp eyes droop ever so slightly as if he was now looking down at your lips.

"he was madly in love with the final girl. so much, he'd murder everyone else just to keep them to himself."

"wha—"

you are interrupted by Jean's voice, "y/n! truth or dare?" confusion hits you until you see the bottle has landed on you. oh.

"dare."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Liam couldn't fucking believe you. why would you risk your life for a stupid dare?!

there you were, undressing yourself to prepare to jump off the cliff and into the lake. and here he was, watching with the others from a distance. he'd run over to you right now if he wasn't so... breathless.

phones were out, on-lookers recording this moment. you were barely dressed, figure so captivating you looked like a forest nymph dancing through the currents, the round moonlight created a silhouette of your body that further proved his comparison.

if anyone spreads those pictures of you, he's going to kill them.

in that moment, he felt his soul return to the body of his younger self on the first day of high school— he was trying out for the football team, destroying all the other prepubescent boys with no remorse. tryouts had ended and he was now an official member, that's when he first saw you.

you were on the field with your friends. they'd laid out a small picnic mat with books scattered all over them while you danced to the rhythm of a lana del rey song blaring through your phone speakers.

suddenly he knew— he knew all his prayers for a greater purpose in life were answered, you. the lyrics to the love songs his parents danced to in the garage finally made sense.

the mellow flashback was cut short by the sound of a loud splash in the water. you jumped.

panic settles in and he doesn't think before jumping into the lake with you. people cheer on as they take this as a sign to join in the water.

his biceps cling onto your body as he pulls the both of you to the surface. you wipe away any hair and water on your face and smile up at him. he returns your smile and you both swim to the land.

on land, his calloused hands never seem to retract from your waist. it settles itself on the cold, wet surface of your shirt. you can feel the heat radiating off his hands and an electric tingle in your spine.

people gather around your wet bodies and offer you both towels. it could be adrenaline, but you swear you could feel his grip tighten a little too much when others approach you.

Liam continues to stay by your side all through the night. even during the car ride home, his palms never leave your thigh.

guess you'll have a guard dog for a while.

#male yandere #original yandere character #yandere #yandere boy #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere scenarios #oc #oc art #tw yandere #yandere character #gn reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral mc #gender neutral y/n #obsession #love sick #yandere jock #yandere writing #yandere x reader #yandere drabble #original character #original story #short story #obsessive #yandere x you #yandere x darling #jock bro #fathergreedconfessions

[josephquinnswhore]

Her Sanctuary

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader.

Summary: you start pulling away from Joel, he’s scared he’s going to lose you.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: mentions of anxiety, bad mental health. Joel talking about Sarah!!! 😭 soft Joel!!!!! Hurt/comfort.

Note: kinda just wrote this on a whim after rewatching the last of us. I miss joel. @cool-iguana ily.

You were an outspoken person. About everything. There wasn’t a single topic you didn’t have an opinion on. Always a snarky reply, a joke, or following pun. That’s just who you were.

Joel spent months wishing you weren’t like that. That you’d just shut up so he could have a few moments of silence between you. His limited replies included a scowl, raised eyebrow or an annoyed grunt. He spent months travelling across the country with you, refusing to open up and reluctantly teaching you how to shoot his rifle.

He didn’t like how you made him feel. How he had started looking at you romantically. The sound of your laugh stirred something in him. Your bright eyes lightened the darkness in his own.

He never allowed himself to let you in; as much as a fight he put up. You wormed yourself into the cracks in the walls around his heart and started to mend him. He doesn’t know when it happened exactly, all he can remember is wanting to hear more of her laugh, he even found her a joke book in an old RV he scouted one evening at the trailer park they posted in overnight.

He had learned how to accept your brightness, for all its worth. Your dorky comments, crooked grin and boisterous laugh. Even those small touches to his back and arm when you would pass by, excusing yourself. Always followed by a mumbled, “sorry.”

But this.. this he didn’t know what to do. He was tearing himself up inside for not knowing what to do. You were quiet today, something bubbling inside of you that radiated off and in between them in a depressing aura that had Joel feeling breathless.

He even found himself staring at you, from the corner of his eyes, turning his head to watch you, making sure you kept up as you lingered a few steps behind him, completely silent. Not laughing, not crying. Silent.

It was heart wrenching and he couldn’t figure out how to put the pieces together to finish the puzzle. Nothing extreme had happened that they hadn’t faced before. They’d fought off some infected yesterday but—it couldn’t have possibly been that. They were fine. They survived.

Maybe you just wasn’t coping as well as he thought you were.

He tried to think of things to cheer you up, and the guilt consumed him when he realised he didn’t really know much about you. He had never asked. It was always you asking about him, pestering to know more about him. He cursed himself for being so selfish.

The harsh reality of their one sided dynamic hit Joel hard, he had always protected her, with his physical strength and ability to kill. That primal instinct that kept them both alive and for what? He couldn’t help her when she actually needed.

He felt utterly useless.

Until. He had an idea. That stupid fucking joke book that she treasured, had to cheer her up right? It had to draw out one of those loud laughs that made his insides flip, the smile that made your eyes squint that his heart craved to see.

He reached into his pack, pulling it out. She’d stashed it in there, insisting that her pack had no more room. He didn’t argue, he knew she struggled carrying the weight. He decided that day that he could carry the extra burden for things that she decided she couldn’t bare.

This baggage however, was tricker. He would take it if he could. He hoped this would work.

He turns around to look at you and what he saw made him feel like there was a metal vice around his heart, your slumped shoulders and black eye bags complimented a vacant look in your eyes, you were unrecognisable in comparison to your default sunshine personality.

“Hey, I was thinkin’ about that algae-bra joke you told me the other day.” He tried to make his voice as soft as he could when he spoke to you, trying to nudge a reaction.

Nothing, she barely looks at him. “Hm?”

“Anyways, I was thinkin’ we could pass the time with this.” He held the joke book in his hand, swinging his pack back over his shoulder, adjusting his rifle strap as he shuffles on his feet.

You felt a spark of something, something that was quickly put out by the fear and darkness that felt so consuming.

“Maybe later?” You offer quietly, walking past him. “It’ll be dark soon.”

Joel felt defeated. How had he failed so badly. How did he let this fester inside of her like a fucking disease that he didn’t know how to get rid of.

This was an infection in your mind; that he figured on his own. This kind of infection he didn’t know how to cure. He had always pushed his own anxiety and panic attacks down burying them, until he learnt to live with it.

But you; the one fucking good thing in his life that brought him life, hope. He wouldn’t allow you to ignore it, to let it consume you.

He wasn’t going to let you fall victim. He would do whatever it took.

He set up camp in silence, stuck in his head about how the fuck he was going to help you, a feeling of shame overwhelmed him as he sits by the fire, rubbing his hands together as you sit in your sleeping bag, across from him.

Arms wrapped tightly around yourself, legs pulled to your chest. It made you look smaller, the way you held yourself protectively. A reflection of the flames flicking in her eyes only made the mood more somber.

He can’t say something came over him, possessed him to say what he felt bubbling up inside of him. He didn’t want to lose her. To him, you were too important, you disarmed him and weaselled your way into his heart. He wasn’t going to let you leave, not ever.

“When my little girl used to get upset, she always shut me out like this, like what you’re doin’, I always told myself she’ll come around.” He nods to himself, as if reminiscing the memory.

You stay silent, watching him. Watching his expression soften.

“An’ now she’s gone it’s all I regret. Not doin’ more. Not making more of an effort with shit like that. Fuckin’ haunts me.”

Not once in the months they’ve travelled he had mentioned having children, a daughter, let alone a decreased one. He had mumbled a few times in his sleep, incoherently a name. Serine, Sari, Sarah? You could never figure it out, and never pried.

But here he was, sitting across from her looking on with longing eyes and his features the most relaxed she’d ever seen.

“I ain’t makin’ that same mistake again, seein’ you like this, pullin’ away. Feels like I’m failin’ all over again.” His admission shocks you, enough to stun a quiet confession from your own lips before you could think.

“I thought you were going to die.” He seems surprised to hear you talking, but stays silent, wanting you to talk more, wanting to hear more.

“I know we’ve dealt with plenty of infected.. we’ve had some close calls even, sure.” Your heart clenched as you recall.

Joel lying on the ground with that infected on top of him, Joel’s gun inches away as he fumbles, fingertips desperately grasping the hairs of grass as he searched for his weapon.

Holding the infected away with one arm, grunting in a struggle that he was bound to lose. It’s rotten teeth and fleshy stench was so close to grazing Joel’s neck. Inches away from sealing his fate.

You had somehow mustered some courage inside of you to tackle the infected, throwing it off Joel and giving him a split second to reach for his gun and put a bullet in the back of the infected’s head.

Your jeans still stunk, of gunpowder and blood. A stench so vile you couldn’t help but relive the moment, it was on your mind every second, unable to process it all.

You almost lost Joel. Joel almost fucking died. It was a breath away.

“I thought if I just—shut down maybe you’d get tired and ditch me.. worse yet I’d stop caring about you so damn much.” Joel’s ears perked at her soft admission.

“And I know you think I’m just—some annoying fucking girl that you have to protect and feed and I’m sorry..“ Joel wouldn’t allow another word.

“Hey. Look at me, now.” His tone was soft, but held a firmness, there was no doubt he wasn’t asking you. He needed you to look at him.

His face looked so soft beyond the flames of the fire, his expression was tender and kind; as no one had ever seen before. He looked beautiful, fuck, he was handsome. You’d always thought so.

“I know it was a close call, we’ve learnt from it, yeah? We won’t make the same mistake.” You nod, Joel continues.

“Don’t pull away from me sweetheart. Please.”

You open your mouth to say something, but Joel interrupts by patting the space beside him.

“C’mere sweetheart. C’mon.” You don’t waste a moment to plop beside him. He wraps his sleeping bag around you and his big hands grip around your torso to pull you into his.

“Tell me you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

For the first time since you’ve known Joel. He was the one asking for comfort, reassurance.

“Promise I’m not going anywhere Joel.” You nuzzle into him, his natural musk strung a desire out of her that all she could do was lean into him.

“You get some rest now. I’ll keep ya safe.” He murmurs into her ear, a promise.

All you could do was obey him. Closing your eyes as your body and mind revelled in the intimacy and vulnerability of this moment.

His head rested on top of yours, your hair gets stuck in the rugged coarse hairs of his beard. He finds himself nuzzling into you, allowing himself to get lost in you. After months of fighting you; he lets go. He lets you in.

You were his. And he wasn’t going to let anything fucking hurt you. Not even yourself. He would be your sanctuary. No matter what it took.

#Joel miller #pedro pascal #tlou #angst #the last of us #Joel miller x reader #Joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #joel miller hurt/comfort #joel miller angst #joel miller x you #soft joel miller

[4sturns]

BREAK THE INTERNET

camboy!chris s. x fem!viewer!reader

genre: smut

synopsis: being chris' top tipper and most loyal viewer, you're gifted with a private one on one cyber call with your favorite camboy.

warnings: cyber sex, sub!chris (reader tells him what to do), whining and whimpering, use of vibrator, praise kink (4sturns knows what praise is ????? woah ...), orgasm denial, use of petnames (mamas, baby, etc.), not proofread!

wc: 1.822

a/n: sat there thinking about how kinky i am compared to others in the fandom and suddenly had the great idea of writing for camboy!chris because god he'd be such a pretty camboy .. thank you for 500 followers too this is for you guys ❤️‍🩹 also brace yourselves because this is probably the longest fic i have ever written in all my years of writing

you're sat at your desk, your laptop propped up at an angle which conceals your face, but shows off your breasts which are clad in a red lacy bra.

there's music playing lowly on a speaker somewhere on the other side of the room, something you put on to calm down your nerves.

you bounce your leg, waiting anxiously as you wait for chris' call notification to pop up on your screen.

you've been a viewer of chris' for a while. he was the first camboy you'd ever encountered and he was certainly your favorite. something about him and how he always gives in to his tippers made you cash in on his streams. he was just so good, so obedient, and so pretty.

unbeknownst to you, you had somehow became his top tipper in the span of a couple months. what you expected to be a cumulative amount of fifty dollars, maybe sixty, turned out to be close to ten times the price you assumed you had tipped him.

even with the initial shock, you still couldn't blame yourself for giving him so much money. he was just so good for you, giving you exactly what you wanted and asked of him every single time.

a sudden and loud tone rings from your laptop speakers making you jump from the unexpected noise. the screen flashes with chris' name and his provocative profile picture, your heart rate picking up at the sight. a shaky hand reaches up to the track pad to accept the call, not before a nervous breath leaves your body.

the call zooms in to show you a full view of chris' camera. his face is out of view, similar to you, but he's sporting a white tank top and plaid pajama pants in comparison to your red bra and black silk shorts.

through your little square screen in the corner, you can visibly see your chest heaving. your mouth feels dry, heart pounding uncontrollably. normally you'd feel fine, but that was when it was chris talking to his entire audience, not just you individually.

"hey mamas," chris greets you, he sounds just as breathless as you. "god, you look so good in that set."

you crack a faint smile although he can't see it. a hand goes up to play with the necklace around your neck, relieving some tension as you work up a response.

"not too bad yourself, chris." you can see him shift around, a muffled moan piercing through your speakers gains your attention.

"already worked up? is it because of my boobs on your screen or because you like my voice a little too much, baby?" you're almost shocked at your own words, you were just shaking a moment ago and now you're taunting the very guy you'd get off to almost nightly for the past three months.

"fuck, if you don't stop teasing me i might just cum in my pants." chris moves his camera back to reveal his face. you're stunned for a second, taking in his beauty. it's not the first time you've seen his face, but you swear he gets prettier every day.

based on chris' chuckle, you're sure he saw the way your chest spiked up with the silent gasp you let out when he showed his face.

"tell me what to do, mamas. you're in control of me tonight." his words are spoken quietly, but god do they do a number on you.

"can you— can you touch yourself, for me?" you stutter slightly. you're so used to giving him commands through his chat that giving him a verbal command one on one makes you lightheaded.

without a word, chris' hand inches towards the bulge in his pants. he starts palming himself through his pants as small whimpers leave his mouth. you're sitting back in your chair, your face from the nose down is now visible on the screen. your eyes are fixed to the screen as your entire body starts to heat up.

"can i take off my shirt? please, ma." he's still palming himself, but he stares right into the camera. you can't bring yourself to speak, so you nod your head, praying he gets the memo despite how little of your face is actually showing.

thankfully he does, his free hand gripping the bottom of his top before swiftly removing the garment. his soft, long hair bounces back into place, covering part of his eyes in a way that makes him look like an angel. a sinful angel.

suddenly, chris stops palming himself, his hand going to dip past the waistband of his pants. he quickly whips out his dick before hissing at the cold air which hits his tip.

you're in awe, no matter how many times you've seen his dick before, it'll never quite compare to how good it looks in this moment. but once the feeling subsides, you quickly remember something.

"i never told you you could take your dick out of your pants, did i?" you're now leaning forward, as if challenging chris through the screen. there's no battle however, as panic quickly flashes through chris' features.

his mouth springs open as floods of apologies and excuses leave his mouth, although you're not quite picking up what he's saying. your eyes are piercing your laptop screen as you notice his tip leaking a clear liquid. you watch as his entire cock twitches when you let out a low chuckle.

"i'm sorry, please, i'm a good boy! i swear i'm a good boy." chris pleads with you, causing a wave of heat to overtake your body. you say nothing as he continues to ramble. but you know you can't keep him waiting, you'd be torturing yourself more than him.

"show me how good you are and stroke yourself for me, hmm?" chris complies almost instantly, his head nodding frantically as he wraps a hand around his hard cock. whimpers and high pitched whines fill up your speakers as you instruct him to stroke himself faster. but just that isn't enough for you.

"can you do something for me, baby?" chris' eyes open, an eager smile crosses his face as he momentarily pauses his movements.

"anything for you, mamas." his hair flops around as he nods his head.

"grab that little black vibrator, the one you know i like." you remember the first time you stumbled onto chris' live broadcast. you remember how tightly he was gripping the base of his cock as he held a vibrator right under his angry, red tip. you remember how loud his whimpers were, how much he was begging for release. the image of his cum painting his stomach white as the buzzing continues in the back is something that will never fail to make you moan.

chris comes back into frame holding the toy, a devious smile makes it way onto your face. it's caught on your camera and you can tell chris knows your intentions aren't pure from the way he visibly gulps. regardless, he sits back down infront of his screen before positioning himself to face you again.

"use it on yourself, the same way you always do." the words leave your mouth sounding more like a command than you'd like, although it really is a command.

chris takes your words seriously as he quickly fumbled with the buttons on the little toy to turn it on. a breathy moan leaves his mouth as he finally lowers it down to circle around his tip. the sight is breathtaking. chris' head tipped back as his hand grips at the base of his cock so tightly you're surprised it's not turning a shade of purple. the vibrator soon finds home right under his tip, buzzing away at his sweet spot.

you bite your bottom lip to conceal your moans, a hand sneakily sliding into your silk bottoms as you feel your soaked folds. your fingers move quickly to collect your arousal before dipping into your throbbing cunt. a whine escapes your lips right as chris lets out a rather loud groan.

you know he's close, but you can't let him go yet. not before you do.

"you're such a good boy for me, so good." you lean back in your chair, propping a leg up on the table to get a better angle, maximizing your own pleasure.

chris' eyes flicker open to take a quick peak at his laptop screen. he nearly cums at the sight. your face is now fully in frame, except it's twisted in pleasure. your fingers moved fast, plunging in and out of your soaked cunt as strings of profanity leave your puffy lips. he thought your voice was pretty, but he never expected the voice to belong to a goddess like you.

"fuck, ma. i'm so close," your eyes open to watch chris' face as he turns the intensity of the vibrator up a level. his eyes are shut tight, but you can still see the tears pricking at his eyes as the pleasure builds up.

"hold it for me, baby. be my good boy and wait for me." an anguished cry leaves chris' throat, though he obeys you and holds himself back from his release.

on your end, you're working hard to reach your own release. you've long discarded your bottoms, having thrown them to the floor somewhere behind you. one hand works diligently to draw circles on your clit, while the other drills into your pussy relentlessly.

"i can't, please i need to come so badly. i've been a good boy, right? please, mamas. i need it." chris is in tears by now, the muscles in his stomach flexing with how much force he has put in so far to control himself for you.

you can feel yourself approaching your own climax, strained moans are pulled from your body as you find the energy in you to speak.

"go ahead, baby. paint your stomach white for me like the good boy you are." through your laptop speakers, you can hear chris' loud pants and whimpers as his orgasm washes over him, a cry of your name leaving his lips in such an erotic moan that you're sent over the edge.

your legs tremble and shake as you let your orgasm rip through your body. your body feels like it's on fire, little surges of electricity rage through your body even after the buzz of your orgasm fades.

you peer over at your laptop screen to see chris has discarded the vibrator, though his hand is still working to give his dick a few final strokes before going limp. his stomach is coated in thick ropes of cum, his skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat.

"did i do good for you, mamas?" chris asks, his voice barely above a whisper, clearly spent from all his whining.

"you did so good for me, such a good boy. you're my baby boy."

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut

[lis-likes-fics]

A Christmas Movie

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x spider!Reader Word Count: 5.4k exactly Kink: Size Kink Warnings: NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, swearing, size difference, fingering, multiple orgasms, creampie, love vomits, Miguel speaking Spanish… A/N: This is a few hours late but I literally finished it five minutes ago. Miguel describes the reader as tiny a lot, but it is only meant in comparison to him, not as a physical description of the reader. Thank you! Also A/N: This can be read as a sequel to this oneshot, but can also be read as a standalone. Thank you and enjoy!

“Is this necessary?”

You rub your side as you lay on the floor, an ache in your muscles as you get thrown to the hard floor again. Looking up at him, you move to stand. “Yes.”

Miguel crosses his arms over his chest, his gray hoodie loose enough not to allow you the pleasure of seeing his muscles bulging through the material. “Why?” he asks, waiting patiently for you to recover before he advances again.

You stretch your arms over your head, feeling your back pop with a heavy sigh. “Well, you saw my attempt just then. You threw me like a fucking ragdoll.”

He shrugs. “Are you ready?”

You sigh, shifting back into your starting stance.

“Firmer stance. I shouldn't be able to move you.”

You roll your eyes and scoff. “Of course you should. Have you seen yourself? You're huge…in more ways than one.” You smirk at him.

He just rolls his own eyes in return. “It should be harder to push you. If I can use my finger to make you fall, your stance is flimsy.”

“You can use your finger to make me fall apart any day.”

He ignores you. He walks over to you, ignoring your remarks as he fixes your stance. He nudges one leg further from the other, widening your feet before pressing down on your shoulders to lower you slightly. He shoves you, you stay standing.

“Better. Do that,” he says.

“You're so grumpy,” you mumble.

A chill rushes up your spine and your right cheek flutters with heat. Ducking, you narrowly miss Miguel's fist to your face. “Dude, what the fu–!”

You backflip, landing in a crouch as he went for another attack, this time aimed at your feet. “Always be on guard. I could have knocked you out,” he instructs, still coming toward you.

His webs shoot toward you, and you act quickly as you jump up once again. You flip before planting your feet off a wall and jumping off just as fast to fly over his head. Another web threatens to wrap around your body, you block it with your own web.

Miguel bounds after you. When you land, you shoot your webs at him one right after the other. He dodges them all, nearing you like a colossus. When he's close enough, you flip back again and spring off your hands. Your foot almost makes contact with his face, but he turns just in time to step out of the way, grabbing you midair and throwing you away.

You're about to fly into a wall when you manage to change your position enough to bounce off of it. He isn't fast enough to catch you this time. You hook your leg around his neck and manage to wrap them both there quickly. You squeeze your thighs tight around him. He reaches up to grab you, and you web his face to blind him.

Miguel's hands grip your body, but you tighten your legs around him and lean back with as much force as you can muster. You shoot webs to the floor, gripping them tight to add some strength as you manage to flip him forward. He lands hard on the floor, and you land in a perfect crouch.

He groans at the impact, moving to rip the webs from his face quickly to an attempt to stay on the attack. But while he's distracted, you web his hands to his face and web his foot to the floor, shooting a few extra for good measure.

He rips the webs on his hands almost too easily, breaking free from the restraints. In one swipe, his foot is free. He comes for you immediately, pouncing at a surprising speed.

You roll onto your back, propping your knees to your chest. You manage to maneuver him so he flies past you. He rolls to avoid another hard hit to the floor.

The chill in your spine is just a second too late. His webs shoot at you. You lose your balance as you try to stand, and you fall back in the middle of turning to face him. In the next second, he's on top of you, a hand around your throat and your hands pinned above your head.

His face is inches from your own, his breath heavy and his eyes are nearly glowing red with exertion. “What were you waiting for?” His voice is insistent and rough, high on adrenaline.

A shiver blossoms through you, a rush of pleasantness prickling your skin. Your breath is shallow and quick. As you stare up at him, wide-eyed and also on an adrenaline rush, you smirk. “Do we always end up like this?”

He tilts his head, confusion finding its way to his face. Then he remembers. You're in the training hall, this is just practice, and you're you.

He rolls his eyes, and the adrenaline seems to fade. He doesn't get up. “You're smaller than me, which makes you faster. You can't let down your guard, and you can't slow down for any reason.”

You huff. “Okay, but that kick thing was impressive.”

He stares at you, debating. Then he shrugs, “Wasn't bad.”

Again, you roll your eyes. “Get off me. You're heavy.”

He does, moving to stand and give you room to do the same. “Okay,” you stretch. “Let's go again.”

“No. Go home.”

You straighten your spine immediately, surprise taking your face. “What? No!”

He peels his hoodie off, leaving his top bare as he walks over to the shelf of towels. “Yes. Go.”

You run over to him, blocking his way. “We don't have to train, you know. We could…” You pause to think, clapping when you have it. “We could watch the surveillance systems! I love the surveillance systems!”

He raises a brow, walking past you. You walk with him. “You hate the surveillance systems.”

You pause. “I do hate them. But you'll be there anyway.”

He stops, looking down at you, unamused. He brings his hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “Go home,” he says, looking at you now. “It’s Christmas. You should be…” he thinks for a moment, “out spending time with friends. Not here…looking at surveillance with me.”

You shrug. “Okay, then we can do something else together.”

“Isn’t there some Christmas party for you to go to?” He starts walking. You follow at his side, shrugging again as you nod your head.

“Hobie’s throwing one in his dimension, yeah,” you mumble. “But I’m not there. I’m here.”

He stops again, turning his full body to face you with a raised brow. “Why are you here? Why don’t you just go home?”

You look up at him, swallowing thickly as your gaze slips from his. You sigh, letting the silence stretch a moment too long as you come to terms with saying it. “I have no one waiting for me at home.” Miguel’s stare softens, becoming a little more sympathetic as he processes your words. “And, like you said, it’s Christmas. No one should be alone on Christmas.”

He looks at you again. With a sigh, he shakes his head gently. “You’re too nice to me.”

You smile, accepting his defeat. “I know. Go get your shower. I’ll see you after.”

One day, he'll tell you.

~

Miguel’s shirt swallows you whole as you pull it over your head. It’s huge and gray, and it hangs at your knees , sagging off your shoulder. Your fuzzy socks are pulled up to your mid-leg, silencing your steps as you walk to the side table.

Miguel’s room in HQ is small, almost like a mediocre hotel room—the tiny room with a single bed and drawer (minus the TV) that nearly takes up the whole space, a tiny closet, a tiny bathroom, and a tiny living room with an okay-sofa and a TV. He has a small area for a coffee maker, a fridge, a cabinet, and a microwave, but that’s as much of a kitchen he has. A mediocre hotel room. He has a house, but he doesn’t go there often.

He comes out of the bathroom, steam rising from his shoulders as his white towel hangs low on his waist, He’s still dripping with water, tiny droplets from strands of hair, little tears streaming down his skin. He’s beautiful. You look away from him.

You pick up two DVDs from the side table, turning the cases over in your hands to examine the front. “Okay, so I got these from Movie-Verse.”

“Movie-Verse,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair as his broad body stands in front of his dresser. He opens the third drawer and grabs the first pair of shorts he sees.

“Yeah, the movie store next to the cafeteria. Has a ton of movies from all the ‘verses.” You wave a hand dismissively, setting one of the cases down and taking the other in both hands. “Anyway, I picked this up. It’s called The Nightmare Before Christmas by some guy named Tim Burton.” You use a mysterious voice when you say the title, stretching the drama. “I think it would be cool.”

He finishes patting dry the water from his skin, tossing the towel onto the bed to pull his shorts on. “Sounds like a Halloween movie.” His tone is flat. He seems almost bored, his face dropped into that grumpy expression he’s taken on.

“Well, yeah,” you shrug, “but it says Christmas on it. Look.”

You toss the case to him. He catches it in one hand effortlessly, his gaze fixed on the drawer he was closing. He examines the front. “There’s a skeleton on it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you matter-of-factly. “Put it in. We’re watching it.” He does as he’s told. You go to his little kitchenette and pull open the fridge. “Do you like eggnog?”

He’s retrieved his towel once more, rubbing it over his wet hair. His muscles flex with every little movement. Part of you wants to make a sly comment, but you refrain.

“No.”

“Yeah. Me, neither,” you hum. You close the fridge, pulling open the cabinet to retrieve two glasses he has stowed away (one that had already been in his cabinet and one you’d put there for yourself months ago). “I just got wine and hot cocoa.”

He practically grunts as a reply. He sounds uninterested, unimpressed. Your pep sours, and you feel yourself physically deflate as you try and fail to brush off his seeming apathy. You set the glasses down with a gentle click and fidget with the fabric of the oversized shirt.

Your voice is small when you speak, almost embarrassed. “Do you want me to leave?”

He looks up at you then, directing his attention. His brows furrow as he holds the remote in his hand, which dwarfs the “tiny” device. “What?”

You shuffle from one foot to the other, feeling awkward. “I can go if you want… Hobie has that Christmas party, like I said, and… I can just go there if you don’t want me here.” The last part comes out choppy, your lips unwilling to form the words, your mouth reluctant to speak it.

There’s a long pause as he stares at you. His furrowed brows soften, and he takes in the sight of you. You’re wearing his shirt, and it looks huge on you. He can see the outline of your soft panties through the material of it. You’ve got on fuzzy socks, long ones that cover most of your leg and your hair is set free.

You look shy. It’s something he doesn’t see often. You relish in dirty jokes and confident suggestiveness. You’re sarcastic, and you thrive on the sass you hand to him. Even during the times where he has your body in his hands, off on another rendezvous to release stress—his and yours—you still hold that glint of mischief and wit.

You look sad. You look sad and small, and he hates himself for making you look that way.

Miguel’s shoulders fall. He turns his body to face you, taking naturally large steps to stand in front of you. You have to crane your neck just to look up at him, but your disheartedness only allows you to reach his chest before giving up.

He raises a hand to your chin and lifts it just a little more so you can see his face, which he tilts down this time to better view you. He sighs and speaks softly, earnestly. “I want you here.”

You blink once, searching his face as your gaze shifts between his plump lips and his russet brown eyes. “Are you sure?”

He leans forward slowly, giving you time (partially because it’s quite the journey) before gently pressing his lips to yours. It’s far too gentle and far too sweet, but you relish it anyway. They’re gone just as quickly as they came as he pulls away just enough to break the kiss.

“I’m sure,” he says.It almost sounds pleading when he says, “Stay.”

His eyes examine your face for another couple of seconds before he steps away from you, lets his hands fall back down to his side. “I have a blanket you can use.”

You breathe a tiny chuckle out of your nose, effectively reassured by his warm and gentle plea. “Is it big?” you smile, considering his offer.

He shrugs a shoulder, beginning to turn on his heel when he shoots a rare smile at you over that same shoulder. “For you.”

It makes you giddy, your courage slowly returning. “I’m not that small.”

His back turned to you, he continues. “You’re right. You’re smaller.”

You roll your eyes at him, turning toward the counter again. You unscrew the wine bottle to begin pouring. You shake your head as you chuckle a little. “Oh, fuck off.”

He opens his tiny closet and pulls out a cream colored blanket (basically a thin duvet). He picks the remote up again, sitting on the sofa with his legs spread wide. He makes the couch look tiny. “You look even smaller in that. Mujer pequeña.”

You move into a pose, pretending to be sexy. “You like?” You wink comically at him.

He licks his bottom lip. “Are you going to sit?”he asks, avoiding the question.

You giggle to yourself, pouring the dark wine. “You love.” You carry the glasses to the sofa.

He's already started the movie, not that you mind. The music starts, the billowing of wind whistling in the background to set a spooky tone.

“The first song is literally saying it's Halloween,” he comments, lifting his hand from his lap, your feet kicking up and resting on his lap as you pass him his glass. He takes it and spreads open the blanket.

“Ugh,” you roll your eyes, “you make me sick.”

He lifts the glass to his lips. “You chose it.” He takes a sip from his glass, resting his hand on your ankle as his thumb strokes the skin over it.

You both sit and watch the movie in silence. You tuck the blanket closer. You sip tentatively at your cup as you direct your gaze at the screen. You miss the way Miguel's eyes linger on you, his gaze tracing the features of your face: the length of your nose, the curve of your lips. He memorizes the details of your face before he realizes he's been staring too long. He looks away.

Another little while passes of being hyperaware of you before he glances over again, noticing your glass go to your lips as you take a sip. He sighs silently. “Come here.”

You look at him, humming. He waves his hand invitingly, You move the blanket, setting your glass on the table. You sit next to him, snuggling into his side. He reaches over your body as his hand lands on your hip.

Miguel lifts you, pulling your body over his lap to straddle him. Your hands fall to his shoulders. He shows his affection the only way he knows how. He kisses you.

You hum lightly, pulling away from his lips and dipping your head, looking down at his chest instead of his eyes. You smile to cover your discontent as you lower your hands to his waist. “Is this why you wanted me to stay?”

His knuckles trace your cheek. “I want you to stay because, surprisingly, I enjoy your company,” he jokes.

You chuckle half-heartedly. “I'm like that.”

There's more quiet in the next pause as his eyes look over your face. “Why did you want to stay so bad?”

You look at him, biting your lower lip. “I told you.”

He rolls his eyes, chuckling lightly as his hands stroke your thighs, over the curve of your ass. “Yeah, ‘no one should be alone on Christmas’. But, like you said, Hobie’s got his party. You have plenty of friends there.” He glances over your face. “Why aren't you?”

You lick your lip, turning your head away. Another song plays quietly in the background, the sound of sleigh bells and horns and clarinets creating a holiday symphony behind you. You wanna gloat. “Ha, I was right. It is a Christmas movie.”

You sigh gently, the tips of your ears hot and the pit of your stomach fluttering.

“I don't want you to be alone.”

He takes a breath in, inclining his head just a bit as he considers your response. His eyes flutter as he stares at your face, seemingly entranced. You look back at him, unflinching.

“You're too nice to me.”

You smile. “I know.”

“You deserve better than me.”

Your eyes flutter at that and your heart stops beating for half a second. You're warm, and you laugh as you speak, “What's that mean?”

He glances away as he sighs, looking back at you with an expression that's almost pained. His heart is heavy in his chest, and he holds his breath a little when you lift your hands back to his shoulders.

“Don't make me say it,” he almost whispers, his eyes pleading. “Please don't make me say it.”

You hesitate, staring at him as your heart hammers against your chest. Your breath is thin. “Say what?”

“Corazón… I–” he breathes in, his voice reluctant, “–haven't said this in a long time.”

You move your hands from his shoulders to cup his face, making him look at you and taking away his option to turn the other way. If he's going to say it, you need to hear it. You need to be sure. “Said what, Miguel?”

He breathes, staring into your eyes and softening.

Tonight, he'll tell you.

“I'm in love with you.”

Silence strikes the room. The movie plays in the background, long forgotten in both your minds as the quiet and the tension drones on. Your skin prickles, your brain is fuzzy, your mouth is slightly agape.

Miguel stares at you, you do not blink. You stare at Miguel, he does not blink. The silence stretches. He's desperate.

“Please say something.”

“I love you.”

His heart pounds at the confession, but he doesn't believe it. This kind of thing doesn't happen. “N–”

“No. I love you, Miguel,” you promise, leaning closer to his face and holding him a little tighter. “I'm in love with you.”

His mouth crashes down upon yours, a clash of lips and teeth and tenderness and insistence. You moan lightly into his mouth, standing on your knees just enough to get some height on him as you kiss him back just as eagerly as he. Fire burns in your belly, in your face, licking at your flesh. Your hands tangle in his hair and fuel it.

He begins to turn you to lay you on the couch. You press on his chest, encouraging him back so he's on his own instead. His hands fall to your thighs as you straddle his waist, his shorts and your panties the only thing separating the two of you. You bend down against his body to continue kissing him with everything you have.

Miguel whispers your name against your lips, moreso when your hips grind against him. His hands smooth along your skin, dipping under his huge shirt on you to feel your waist with his gentle but insistent touch. Your hands roam his chest, feeling his soft skin over his hard muscles, enchanted by the way he feels under you. He relishes in your touch, hypnotized.

“Your hands are so small,” he mutters, his fingers lightly digging into your sides.

You chuckle lightly, losing your breath as you speak. “You’re just big.”

He smiles against your lips, his hands on your hips moving you slowly up and down on top of him. But, like you said, he’s big. Your hips grind over his belly, but the movement alone is enough to make you moan. You sigh heavily against his lips, pulling back just enough to speak as your brows knit together.

“Miguel,” you breathe. “I need you.”

He nods, reaching a hand to the back of your head to encourage you into another kiss. “I know, baby, I know,” he whispers. He opens his eyes to see you, and he loses his breath at the sight of you: disheveled with desire for him. You open your eyes to look at him, and he can see the way you gaze at him, like he’s everything to you.

His hand slips from your waist, down the length of your body until he’s dipping it between your legs. You bite your bottom lip as you moan at the way his fingers graze the thin fabric covering your pussy. Your whole body shudders at the feeling, and he just watches you react to him.

He rubs his finger teasingly over you, feeling as you slowly become more and more wet as he does. You grind your hips into his hand, eager to feel him. “You want my fingers in you, baby?” he says, his voice low and rough. “You want ‘em to stretch out this little pussy for my cock?”

“Please,” you mewl.

He's weak as he dips his finger underneath your panties and slips it past your folds, working it into you as he watches your lips part at the sensation. You grind against his hand, seeking more of him as his thick finger slowly moves in and out of your warmth. When you're slicked up enough, he slips another one inside. And then a third.

His fingers thrust in and out of you, slowly building in speed as he seeks out your delicious moans, the way your eyes flutter and your tongue darts out to lick your chapped lips.

“So pretty,” he mutters. “Your little moans sound so pretty, querida. I love them.”

You breathe soundly, squeezing around his thick fingers as he curls them inside of you. “Fuck, Miguel,” you moan. “Mm, keep going.”

He does, spreading you open with his fingers as he gets you nice and slick for him. His cock is painfully hard now, restrained by his shorts as it tents them. He feels like he'll explode just watching you. As you continue to grind your hips down on his hand, he shifts his thumb over your clit and begins to rub circles over it. “Mírate. See how beautiful you are, mi pequeña cosa?”

Your breath blows heavily through parted lips. His words play over and over in your head. “I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you.” You moan and hold the sides of his face, stroking your thumbs over his cheeks as the pleasure rises within you.

“‘M gonna cum,” you shudder, your pussy clenching around his fingers.

He curls his fingers some more, massaging them inside of you against that spongy spot he knows you adore. “Cum for me, chiquita.”

You do, mouth parting and eyes squeezing as the wave of pleasure washes over you. He feels you tighten and untighten around his fingers, encouraging your spasms by pumping them through it. You moan his name, slowly coming down from the pleasure as your hips jerk at the feeling of his fingers.

He pulls them out of you, bringing you down into another kiss as his lips slide against yours. “You did so good for me,” he sighs, leaning into you as you hum against him.

You pull at his shorts, pushing them down his thick thighs to get them off him. He actually helps you, kicking them off and leaving him bare as you continue to straddle him with his shirt draping low on your body.

You go to take it off, but he stops you, his hand on yours. “No,” he says. “You look perfect in it.”

He set his hands on your hips once more, raising you to hover over his cock. He stops, waiting for you. You want to kiss him again, biting your lip roughly as you whisper. “Please.” You stroke his face, “I need you.”

He’s weak. He can do nothing but comply as he lines you up with him, letting you down just enough to squeeze the head of him inside you. You moan, closing your eyes at the feeling as he holds you steady with a grunt. It’s you who lets him sink deeper inside, grinding your hips against his cock as you make him lower you.

He stretches you out, a delicious stretch you could never grow used to as you moan all the way down. When he’s buried to the hilt with you sitting properly above him, he groans. “Fuck, I love this little pussy,” he grunts. “You always take me so well.”

You huff, catching your breath as you roll your hips slightly, shuddering at the pleasure. “So big,” you mutter, gripping his hips as you give yourself another moment to get used to his size before rolling your hips again. The feeling is electric, sets off a deep hunger in your belly that has you grinding down on him so desperately.

“You like that?” he breathes. “‘Course you do. My tiny girl loves it when I stretch her out like this.”

You roll your hips over him, moaning as his cock presses deep inside of you. His hands slip underneath your shirt, feeling your waist as he helps you grind down on him. Your rhythm is slow and measured, feeling everything. Every little roll, every little squeeze, every little ridge of his cock dragging against your walls.

“Fuck, you’re so big,” you moan again, relishing in him.

He smiles, continuing to watch as you fall apart on top of him. You feel him sit up, one of his hands wrapping tightly around your waist. You open your eyes to look at him, whimpering when he slips his cock out of you.

“Shh,” he says, flipping you onto your back as his massive body towers over you, his size that of a predator but the gentleness of his touch and the care in his eyes that of a man who loves a woman. “I’m gonna take care of you, mi corazón.”

His eyes stay glued to yours when he thrusts back in. Both your moans rumble in your throats as you watch each other. He rocks his hips back and forth inside you, thrusting so deep and pulling out so far before doing it all over again.

He holds onto your tight as he fills you with his cock, so wrapped up in you as you moan and squeeze around him. The pace, still slow, picks up as he thrusts deep within you, grinding against the deepest part of you with a groan in the back of his throat.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you bury your face in his chest. “Fuck, that’s good,” you whisper.

He manages to kiss your forehead, his hand slipping underneath you to encourage his steady rhythm as you continue to clench. His other hand finds your clit, rubbing slow circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves as he builds you up for another orgasm.

You tense, your walls fluttering around him at the feeling of his thumb on your clit. He grunts at the feeling of it, ready to fall apart as he watches you. “I love you, mi amor.” You shudder at the words. “I love your little body. I love your little smile. I love your little eyes. I love your stupid little jokes and the way…the way you care about me too much.”

You cradle his face in your hands, melting at his confessions. “I love you,” he says again, his voice spent and his breath speeding up as you squeeze around his cock and moan his name like a spell.

“Miguel, I…” you moan, the pleasure building into a knot in your stomach as you get ready to explode. You breathe in and you keep breathing in as he presses a little harder on your clit, circles a little harder as you clench him so tight.

Your eyes shut and your lips part as you come, moaning loudly as the ecstasy washes over you like a crashing wave. You roll your hips up into the pleasure, whimpering when he presses himself as deeply inside of you as he can go, grinding and intensifying every little feeling.

Miguel almost collapses on top of you when he cums, dropping his head down and grunting with a heavy breath as he spills inside of you, nearly fucking into you as he does. He moans something under his breath, all his muscles tensing as he keeps pumping his cock into you. You wrap your legs around his waist to pull him in closer.

It’s a while before you both come down, catching your breaths as the pleasure wanes and leaves a pleasant buzz in your bones. He pulls out of you, and you whimper at the sudden emptiness.

He sits up to pull some of his weight off you, though you keep him down by his waist to feel his body still looming over you. He brushes his fingers over your forehead, your heavy eyelids fluttering open.

“Fuck,” you sigh, looking up at him with a sticky smile. You readjust yourself so you can see his face better, taking it in your hands and pulling him down to kiss his lips. The kiss is soft, a gentle embrace as you take your time to pour your care into it.

“I love you, too,” you whisper back at him, kissing him again and then whispering it once more. He smiles. It’s a slow and small smile that spreads over his lips. For a moment, he forgets about all the fears and pains and dangers of love and just thinks about you. How much he loves you. He kisses you again.

“And I was fuckin’ right,” you smile, a gentle chuckle in your chest.

He hums. “About?”

“It is a fuckin’ Christmas movie.”

It takes him a moment to realize what you were talking about. It’s just then when he remembers the movie still playing in the background, another slow song in the background from the one girl that was meant to be a play on Frankenstein’s monster. He doesn’t remember her name, he wasn’t paying much attention.

He laughs. It isn’t a small laugh either. He throws his head and closes his eyes as a loud, booming laugh erupts from his chest and fills the room. It’s so genuine and so electric, you can’t help your own as you join his excitement.

You both laugh for a while, calming down enough for him to kiss you again and say, “You are right.” He takes a breath, staring down at you with a wide smile. “It is a fuckin’ Christmas movie.”

You giggle again, sighing deeply as you pull his weight down on top of you (though he still holds most of it to keep from crushing your tiny body). You hum, speaking in a quiet whisper. “I love you.”

Miguel wraps you in his arms and turns you both around so you’re laying on top of him. He pulls the blanket from where it had fallen on the floor and spreads it over your body, slipping his hand under your shirt so he touches your bare back.

“Merry Christmas,” he mutters, letting out a slow breath. “I love you.”

Oscar Isaac taglist: @loki-hargreeves @hb8301 @tessarqctt @fanreader @alexxavicry @gublur @katsukis1wife @hatterripper31 @papichulo120627 @anotherblackreader @kmc1989 @the-nerdy-goddess @minigirl87 @woahhajime @notzammm Tag yourself here…

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #10 days of smutmas

[r0ttenhearts]

Words On a Screen II

kazuha left you both at the table, your hands warming on a cup of coffee as scaramouche sat in front of you. he looks strangely uneasy, constantly adjusting his many rings on his fingers as he looked at the table, not at you.

“so? what could you possibly have to say to me scaramouche?” he visibly flinched at the lack of your usual endearing names as you spoke to him bluntly. after his many attempts to try and talk to you over the phone he seemed almost afraid to say something to you now that you were both sitting in front of each other.

his mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. his thoughts were jumbled up and unable to form a sentence, an excuse for what he’s done to you.

“(y/n), i.. i never meant for you to find out that way.”

you scoff, your grip tightening on your mug as you look at his face.

“oh really? is that so? so when was i to be notified that my so called lover has been cheating on me? tell me, when?”

scaramouche’s eyes widened as he looks you in the eyes, the hurt and anger swirling in yours almost want to make him look away.

“i’m sorry, (y/n). please just, look— you know me, okay? you know the real me, unlike anyone else has. you know this hurts me as much as it hurts you. everything i said to her— i didn’t mean it. honest. all i see is you (y/n).”

he reaches across the table, grabbing your hand before you promptly snatch it out of his grip. glaring daggers at the boy you once swore you’d always forgive. scaramouche’s head hung low, his hands on his lap as his hair covered his eyes.

“please.. let’s just go home. i promise i’ll make this up to you. we still have so much planned, remember? our anniversary is coming up a-and we haven’t gotten married yet, in sumeru like we said we would. don’t let that go to waste—”

“oh really scara? don’t let it go to waste? you’re the one who did that. you did that when you got in bed with that woman, professed the same words we said to each other to her! this is not my fault.”

you laughed dryly, standing up from the kitchen table as you walked over to kazuha’s door. scaramouche looked up from his lap, looking the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him as he looked to your angry form opening the door.

“please get the fuck out of kazuha’s house and never talk to me or show yourself around me again.”

scara slowly stood up from the table, walking out of the house as you slammed the door behind him.

it was really over, like he said it would be.

but why did it hurt so much? didn’t he say he hated you? hated your “suffocating” presence in his life?

why did it feel so.. empty now?

the drive back to your once shared home was quiet. the anxiety in his stomach bubbling over as he stumbled his way into the kitchen, digging in the liquor cabinet you both would only indulge in on special occasions.

grabbing the biggest bottle he could find, he uncapped the liquid and took a big gulp. the stinging in his throat didn’t seem as much of a comparison with the burn in his heart.

you were really gone. he’d never wake up to your cuddles, meals, kisses and affection, or even see you again.

he fucked up. big time.

he sat on the kitchen floor, laughing quietly to himself as the bottle sat next to him, uncapped.

he couldn’t even think of haypasia now, not with you gone. wasn’t she the whole reason why this happened? his affair with a woman he couldn’t care less about now?

it was ironic really, the way he saw the both of you now that he’d lost you. you’d far outweigh the scale of what he’d wished and yearned for since his abandonment as a child.

and what, now you were going to stay with kazuha? the man he introduced you to? it all tasted bitter as he took another swig of the bottle.

time seemed to pass slowly after the breakup. scaramouche stopped streaming and disappeared online, the same being for haypasia. he no longer talked to her after that day, staying cooped up in his now empty home, hugging a sweater you had forgotten to bring along.

when he heard you and kazuha had gotten together he drunk himself into a heavy hangover. he didn’t consider himself a drinker, not until that day. those big shiny bottles being his only comfort as you had taken the small cat that you both had adored.

this was the life he had declared he had wanted for the past two years to a woman he no longer cared to speak to.

but it was just words on a screen, right?

taglist: @christfulity @magica-ren @malina130550 @sketcheeee @kaoriee @imahallucination928 @marvelly13-blog @hxqlou @rivkadreamer @samarill @ainnofinway

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#genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x reader angst #scaramouche angst #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scara angst #scaramouche #scaramouche x y/n

[auteurdelabre]

Code Broken (Series) dark!Joel Miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni

summary: "You broke into my house," Joel says moving his gaze from your eyes back down to your mouth as his wide hand grazes his belt buckle. "Moved my shit around. Least you could do is be polite."

You only wanted to pull a silly prank on your neighbor, Joel. Who could have seen it ending up like this?

[AU where Joel Miller ends up in Jackson City by himself.]

warnings/tags: Extremely dubious consent, oral sex [m receiving], rough oral sex, face-fucking, Come shot, Joel is bad at feelings, Mean Joel, Dirty Talk  

word count:  6.9k

a/n: Y'all, this whole series is pretty depraved (from my perspective) and much darker than my normal stuff. I wanted it as a challenge and I had a lot of fun doing the series, there's 5 parts so I hope you enjoy it. Comments and the like really make my day. xx

masterlist

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Chapter 1: Go your Own Way

Joel Miller is the most serious man you've ever seen. The rigidity of his spine when he walks, the dark eyes always darting around in stormy irritation. People still greet him when he goes into the center of town, and he nods politely and makes small talk. But he never looks anything other than bothered.

He terrifies you. 

You know his name only because of your friends in the small community of Jackson City. His brother is Tommy, a cheerful man married to Maria with a baby on the way. Tommy is the one that welcomed you into this settlement years ago, the one that settled you into the modest home you now live in on the end of Rancher Street. Larger homes buttress you on either side and yours is dwarfed in comparison but you don’t care. You still can’t believe you have your own house.  Your own bed. Your own everything.

You watched the survivors come from all over the globe, watched as the community swelled in number and joy over the years. It was like a slice of heaven in and amongst a hellish landscape of the undead.

And then Joel Miller had entered and everything for you changed.

Tommy and Joel couldn't be more different. Tommy is sweet and polite and likes to ask after people to make sure they're okay. He’s stoic and his dark eyes light up when he laughs or makes a joke.

Joel keeps to himself. He doesn't talk to many people. He answers people with a serious tone in his drawl. He likes horses and he likes music, that's as much as you can tell about what he likes because he rarely does anything else.  

When he'd moved into Jackson City he'd been given the home next to yours. Yours was a simple one bedroom, meant for singles, his was a spanning home with a garage. You rarely saw him outside unless he was headed for the stables or communal meals. 

Sometimes on nights your window was open to let in the night breeze you heard him playing his guitar in his place. On rare occasions he sang, his voice rasping and mournful under the chords. It made your chest tight and your eyes prick with tears. It made you remember a youth you’d rather forget.

It was actually the music that had inspired your first attempt at an introduction. 

You'd been out planting in your garden when you heard the front door to his place creak open. You walked casually over to the fence that separated your properties to see him sitting on the front stoop of his place, a pale blue coffee mug in one hand. 

He was looking into the middle distance, his profile strong. You'd leaned on the fence, hoping to catch his attention. As a man always on alert he had, his dark eyes sliding over to you as you greeted him. 

"You play really well," you told him enthusiastically, recalling the tune you heard him play late into the night the evening prior. "Was that Fleetwood Mac you were singing yesterday?"

Joel hadn't replied. In fact he'd given you the coldest look you'd ever received, stood up and gone back into his house. You'd stood there looking after him in shock for several moments until going back to your gardening. 

When you'd told your friend Trish what happened that following Tuesday during your weekly "book club" (drinking poorly made wine and playing cards) she'd laughed in that annoying way of hers and told you to stop being so sensitive.

Trish told you that Joel Miller was rude to everyone. That the only reason people put up with it was because his brother was Tommy and because Joel himself was one of the few bachelors in the community.  Then she’d gotten a soft look in her eyes and sighed that Joel was gorgeous in that sullen, quiet way that made older men mysterious. You hadn’t understood that, having never found poor humor and a bad attitude attractive.

You’d decided it had been a one-off. Maybe Joel was just tired that morning. You tried waving to him if you saw him in the street, one hand usually on the reigns of a horse tugging it gently behind him. He never returned the gesture. 

It came to a head when you and Trish had been to a movie night in the square some months later, the summer heat always driving you indoors where it was cooler. They were playing an old science fiction feature and finding seats was near impossible. It was always like this when a popular film was showing. The popcorn lay in big tubs and patrons brought bowls to scoop the kernels into.

The children were hunched in front of the large white blanket that acted as a screen chatting animatedly. Your co-workers waved, observing how busy it was as you scanned the space, seeing an empty chair in the middle row near the back. Trish told you to grab it and that she'd search for another free one. 

You'd been so intent on taking the chair that you didn't even realize who was seated next to you until you plopped down, brushing arms with the bare forearm next to you. 

You noticed his jeans first, the way they seemed molded to his muscular thighs. Then his forearms, his plaid shirt rolled to the elbows and then finally up his neck to his profile, the full lips, the hawkish nose and the dark eyes that you could clearly see were trying to ignore your presence.

"Hello neighbor," you'd chirped trying not to sound as nervous as you felt. You'd watched as he glanced out the corner of his eyes at you, nodding briefly. Emboldened by this you motioned towards the large white sheet.

“You a big fan of Charlton Heston?”

He’d given a short nod, a grunt of a reply. This had felt like such progress to you and you relaxed a bit into the seat. You saw Trish heading your way with popcorn in hand and your knee bumped into Joel’s as you swivelled in your chair, angling your neck to see if there were any other free seats. 

"Do you see any other empty seats? My friend Trish-"

He gave you one sharp look, scanning your body from top to bottom before rolling his eyes and jerking from his seat. Your face went bright red as he sidled past you just as Trish approached with popcorn.  

"What was that?" Trish asked, looking after his frame quickly disappearing down the street. You'd shrugged, embarrassment overtaking you.

But the message was clear: Joel Miller can't stand you. 

You suppose after that is when you decided on payback. Something innocent, really, silly in hindsight. Something that would irritate him on a daily basis. 

The plan was to hide his guitar somewhere within his home. Specifically, in the back of his under his kitchen sink... then the bathtub ... then under his bed. 

It's immature, especially at your age. But you'd missed out on so much life during those twenty years of running and hiding that this felt fun.

You could imagine him going insane trying to find it. Shouting angrily when he realized it was misplaced only to find it popping up in random places in his home.

It was an innocuous prank, borne out of boredom and humiliation. And if Joel caught on or accused you and brought you before the sheriff, what could they do? The guitar never left his house. How could it be stealing?

It had seemed like the perfect plan.  

But now as you pull the black hooded jacket over dark jeans and look into the night sky this evening, you're wondering if this was really is the best idea. 

You've gotten away with it twice before. Once to hide the guitar in his shower. Once under his kitchen sink. 

You do this once a month on one of the evenings that everyone is at the movies. After your last experience with Joel, when you started to internally begin cataloguing his movements, you'd noticed that Joel attends every single one. His only habitual act that you can count on. 

His visits with Tommy are regular but never scheduled, sometimes they go to the bar, sometimes at Joel's and you assume, sometimes at Tommy's. He's not a big joiner, not found during game nights at the canteen. He rides, that much you've seen and know. He likes to be around the animals. 

There’s not much to do in the evenings in Jackson City, and that usually rests easily on the community. After so much violence it’s nice to have quiet, peaceful nights. But the movie nights provide popular and give you enough time to act, a good hour and a half minimum. You could push it to two hours but that seems foolish. It's a perfect time because it's where your neighbors are usually spending their time as well. 

The first time you'd navigated from your roof to his, you'd been shocked at how easy it was. Your homes were close together and jumping onto his shingles was nothing more than a gentle leap in the darkness. 

The window to his hallway was unlatched, just as yours was, just as most everyone's was. You lived on a glorified compound; no one felt the need to lock up the upper floor windows. 

You'd squeezed in, falling gracelessly onto the wood floor. You'd worked quickly, finding the guitar beside the fireplace downstairs and gently placing it into Joel's shower half leaning against the tile. 

Then you'd run back, closing the window after you, jumping back onto your roof and throwing yourself back into your bedroom with your heart in your throat. You hadn’t taken time to catch your breath before you'd rushed down your own steps and run to the movies, coming in the back to make it seem like you'd always been there, standing near the far corner with your heart racing, trying not to giggle. 

When the lights flickered on and everyone rose to leave you made sure that Joel saw you, brushing past him intentionally. You had to have an alibi. He needed to see that you’d been here the whole night, just as he had.  

"Excuse me," you'd said airily, not even put off by the silence of his reply when you ‘bumped’ into him. 

The second time in his place you were finding an appropriate hiding spot for his guitar when you'd noticed other things about him. Like the detailed wood carvings that lined the mantle over the fireplace. The paintings of landscapes filled with animals hung around the sparsely decorated home. 

You’d taken time to wander around the home, noticing the records, the other guitars hung on the wall. You’d seen the reading glasses on the coffee table in front of the sofa and the woodworking space in the garage. It had been thrilling seeing this interior life, knowing that the impenetrable Joel Miller wore reading glasses and carved wood figurines. There was something beautiful in those small pieces of him.

But tonight as you stand looking at yourself in your mirror you wonder if maybe that's enough. You've had your fun. You've tricked him twice; you've snooped in his home. That's enough. 

That should be enough.

But you haven’t seen his bedroom yet. Something holds you back every single time you consider it. You’ve walked by that closed door twice, knowing that solving the mystery of Joel Miller could be even closer if you just walked over the threshold.

You’re broken from these thoughts when you hear his front door open. You creep to your bedroom window, hiding in the shadows to see his tall frame pulling his jacket on, locking his front door and heading to the center of town for the film. His boots crunch the leaves underfoot as he moves and when he turns the corner you know it's time to move. 

You traverse across your roof silently, cloaked in the darkness of the night. The neighborhood is mercifully quiet and you take a moment to appreciate the view. Your thankful for the still of the evening, the quiet and you glance up to see the stars dotting the sky. 

Then you’re back focusing, leaping onto Joel's roof and hurriedly moving inside. You pass the familiar sights of his closed bedroom door, the creaking wood hallway leading to bathroom. The single red toothbrush that sits sadly in a fogged water glass. You jog quickly downstairs to retrieve the guitar, always in its stand by the fireplace. 

It gleams in the moonlight streaming through the window, as if it’s begging you to grab it, to hide it, to play a game. You take it into your hands, always sure to be careful with it. Pulling  a prank on him is one thing, willful destruction quite another.

It's your last time doing this, you've decided. So where should you hide it?

The answer comes to you almost immediately - his bedroom. The only room of his house you haven't snooped yet. The only space of his that you haven’t conquered. Excited tingles go through you as you race back up the creaking step to his bedroom, pushing the door open without ceremony before your nerves overtake you. 

It's a simple box shaped room, larger but the exactly the same shape as yours, which is exactly the same as the many homes that line these streets. Joel's is much less inviting than yours though. 

He has a bed near the window, tan sheets and blue coverlet. The bed is hastily made, as if he'd been in a rush to leave. There is a small nightstand next to his bed holding a pile of books.  On one wall is a well built shelf holding a myriad of records, all ones you've heard him play and on the table below it is the record player. 

You observe that his closet doors are half open and you pull them smoothly apart, your gaze going hungrily over the contents inside. You’re  amazed at how neat and organized it is. Shirts and jackets are hung, hats on shelves, belts strung on hooks.

The familiar green plaid is hanging there dead center, reminding you of that embarrassment at the movies. Despite this your fingers go to the fabric and you find it soft with use and age. Without thinking you dip your face forward, dragging the fabric to your nose and you inhale. It smells like him, or how you imagine he smells. Like the outdoors and fresh laundry and warm cologne. Probably the cologne you saw in his bathroom during your last adventure. 

You take the smooth neck of the guitar and place it gently in the far side of the closet floor, next to what looks like a beat-up tan backpack. You close the closet doors with a smile of self satisfaction, imagining what his reaction will be.

You've never actually seen Joel get upset by these pranks but one day working on your garden you did hear him complaining to Tommy over coffee that he must be getting old because he can’t remember where I put my fucking guitar.

You'd giggled yourself silly at that, trying your best not to be heard as you moved the soil under your gloves. It had tickled you immensely to know that your small inconvenience was upsetting him. You felt vindicated for the way he had treated you.

You stand in the center of his bedroom and your eyes drift back to that pile of books and you find yourself curious about what he reads. You traces the spines with your forefinger and your gaze and you're shocked when you find classics by Jane Austen and books on astronomy. You'd expected worn paperbacks of cowboys or travel. 

You notice that behind this stack of books there's a framed photo of a smiling Joel and a sweet faced little girl, obviously his daughter at what looks like a carnival. You can see a waving Tommy in the distance. You’re shocked at how different Joel looks when he smiles, his dark eyes crinkling authentically, his smile broad and his face boyish. Perhaps he is sort of attractive, in a brooding way.  

You notice the yellow of age in the corner of the photograph and the realization that the photo is over twenty years old. When you look closer you can see Joel is younger, his hair and beard not threaded with grey. 

Knowing what that means in this dark world of carnage is what solidifies the realization that you've overstepped. 

You need to leave. Fuck the prank. Fuck harassing a guy who clearly has very good reason to not like people. You were so quick to judge, so fast to make it about you when maybe, just maybe, he was just a loner who never got over the loss of his kid. 

You even think about taking the guitar back to its place by the fire when you hear the distant jingle of keys hitting the lock to the front door. 

What the fuck? He was supposed to be gone at least another hour!

Your heart sinks when you hear him enter his home, tossing the keys onto the kitchen table and moving quickly to the stairs.

Fuck. 

Now his footsteps are on the creaking staircase coming your way. If you run for the window in the hallway he'll see you through the gaps in the banister. If you hide under the bed you'll be easily seen. 

Panic overtakes you and you do the only thing you can think of and dash into the closet, sure to avoid hitting the guitar with your leg. You close the doors, leaving them open just a hair, just as he had.

You don’t want to arouse suspicion. You'll just stay here a little bit. Wait until he goes back downstairs and then try to sneak back out the window. 

"The fuck?"

You hear Joel on the landing and now you realize your fatal mistake when he murmurs something else to himself and you hear the heavy sound of the window being closed.

You left the fucking window open. 

He knows someone is inside. 

You cover your mouth, muffling the shallow pants of terror that go through you when Joel enters the bedroom. Through the slits between the slightly parted closet doors you can just make him out.  He doesn’t turn on the light in the bedroom, so everything is still bathed in a blanket of darkness tinged blue from the moon’s glow.  

He’s wearing a flannel, this one tighter around the shoulder, emphasizing the muscles of his back and broad expanse of his upper body. He looks suspiciously around, his face stoic like someone on a deadly mission.

He walks past the closet, his body strong and his movement’s solid in a way that intimidates you. If he wanted he could snap you in half and not break a sweat. He scans the room before slowly dropping to his knees beside the bed, craning his head to see underneath. 

When he sees it's clear he stands again and moves out of your view.

You tilt your head, trying to listen for his footfalls but hear nothing but silence. Did he go downstairs? You figure he's gone to check out the other rooms when the closet doors fly open revealing you to him.

Joel is there, his hands on either door as he looks down at your hooded frame hunched in the corner. 

"I fucking knew it."

He reaches in and pulls you out of the closet by the arm of your jacket but you stumble out, wrenching out of his grip enough to run into the hallway, your heart pounding. 

The window is closed. It'll take too long to open. Your best bet is to run downstairs and out the front door. You think since you're hood is still on he hasn't seen your face properly and there is a chance to make an escape.

You move swiftly down the hallway, your eyes on the nearing stairs but he's immediately there, gripping you by the back of your jacket and tugging harshly. You fall back into his arms before he’s whirled you around to face him.  

You give a sharp yelp when he slams you against the nearest wall, his hand around your throat pinning you there. 

"Who the fuck are you?" 

His voice is loud and echoes in the barren hallway. He sounds furious, not that you're shocked. If you'd come home to a stranger hiding in your closet you likely wouldn't be elated either. You try to hide your face in the hood of your jacket, panic making you feel cold all over. If you could just-

His large hand comes to rip the hood of your head, taking with it a few loose strands of your hair. You give a hiss of pain as your scalp tingles. 

You're caught. 

Joel's stares down at you with fury in those dark eyes of his that fades abruptly when he recognizes you.  "You live next door."

He still has you loosely pinned to the wall by the throat, but now he drops his hand, gliding it down your collar before pulling it from your body. He smooths his palm over his wavy hair, not out of nerves but more out of disbelief at seeing you of all people in his home.

"Did I hurt you?"

You stare up at him in shock. You've broken into his house and he's the one asking if you're hurt?  You shake your head. The slam of your back against the wall had shocked you more than anything. He looks confused, his eyes narrowing on your face. 

"How'd you get in my house? Why are you here?"

You're both breathing heavily and you can only hope he doesn't see the fear in your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you sputter instead of answering him. "Just a joke, was just-"

"How did you get into my house?" He repeats though this time his voice isn't as hard, more curious.  

"I j-just climbed in the window," you explain shakily pointing to the window at the end of the hall. "My roof is close enough to yours that..."

You trail off, not wanting to incriminate yourself further. He's so close to you that you can feel his warm breath falling over your cheeks. 

"I've never stolen anything," you assure him just in case that's what's really upsetting him. "Never touched any of your stuff except your guitar. Just hid it a few times and I was really careful with it."

"Why were you doin' that?'

"It was just a joke," you say again weakly, though now under his severe eye line you can't understand why at one time you thought it was so amusing. 

He's not responding, not replying, just staring at you with that inscrutable gaze. There is a flutter of panic starting in your belly, the realization that no one knows you’re trapped between Joel Miller and the wall. The knowledge that despite a few interactions, he remains a mystery.

"I should get back home," you whisper, trying to sidle off to the left. "My boyfriend is waiting for m-"

His palm comes to lay flat against the wall just next to you, boxing you in. Its dark in the hallway, but the moon hits you both, silhouetting you and showing you Joel’s expressive eyes.  

"You live alone," Joel says with a sigh, as if your lie has disappointed him. "Have for as long as I've been here. Only company you get at your place is on Tuesday nights with that gal of yours."

You gape up at Joel, shocked at how accurate he is. Your brows furrow in confusion. "How do you know that?" 

"Same reason you know I go to the movies every other week."

He's been watching you. 

Just as you've been watching him. And while you know why you've been following his schedule, noting his arrivals and departures you can't understand why he would be doing the same for you. He just keeps staring at you in that intense way of his that makes you feel warm and tingly all over. 

"My friend Trish-"

"No one knows you're here," Joel murmurs, his eyes moving to your mouth and then back to your eyes. His voice is so low, so velvety, so soothing despite the inherent menace in the sentence.

You swallow thickly, the sensation of fear slowly curving the length of your spine. You’re suddenly so aware about how little you know of Joel Miller. For all you know he could be a serial killer. 

But that doesn't fit with how he's studying your face. He looks more open, even bordering on amused. But that can't be right, he can't stand you and now he knows you've broken into his house on more than one occasion.  

"Had a feeling someone was fucking with me,' Joel observes evenly. "S'why I turned around tonight. Realized the guitar thing only happens when I'm out at the movies."

You remain silent, feeling so stupid. Why had you needed to keep going? Why didn't you just go with your gut instinct and stay home?

"I’ll go," you croak, hoping that Joel will take pity on you and just let you leave. Joel's face remains placid, his hand going to rest where your neck meets your shoulder, stopping you from leaving. 

"You broke into my house," Joel says moving his eyes from your eyes back down to your mouth. "Moved my shit around. Least you could do is be polite."

Polite? What is that supposed to mean? 

The meaning becomes quite obvious when you feel his heavy hand on your shoulder begin to press, moving you back to slide down the wall until you're on your knees between he and it. The wood floor bites into your denim clad knees, but you remain still.  

His eyes stay on your face as realization dawn's on you. His fingertips are ghosting over your shoulder and you watch as his free hand goes to his jeans, undoing the button and bringing down the zipper. You can see his pale boxers underneath and watch his hand flexing. 

Your eyes dart back up to his face, seeing the way he towers over you, his breathing elevated only slightly and his eyes fixed on yours. 

Why aren't you running?

He reaches and grips your wrist in his fingers. You watch almost detached as he opens your hand with his own and slides it under the waistband of his boxers. 

Why aren't you screaming?

His stomach is warm and taut, strangely smooth for a man of his vocation. You hesitate before his hand is forcing yours to continue, wrapping it tightly around his hard cock. You hold in a gasp as your palm hits it, instinctively curling. 

"Like that," he murmurs gently. 

He's warm and thick and under your exploratory fingers you can feel him twitch which excites as well as terrifies you.  He hisses through his teeth softly as you begin to squeeze, your eyes focused on his face. His eyes never leaving yours, the full mouth dropping open as he groans. 

You continue slowly, feeling the ridge of his shaft, the pulsing heat of that iron under velvety skin. He has his palm flat on the wall above your head, his forehead moves to rest in the crook of his arm as he gently shifts his hips.

You stare up at him from your spot kneeling on the floor, still in disbelief that this is happening. Usually just the sight of him walking down the same street as you is enough to send you bolting in the other direction. 

But now his gaze is soft and half lidded. His mouth isn't curled into a sneer or scowl. Joel Miller is much less intimidating when he's leaning into your stroking hand.

Then with a soft grunt he bats your hand away and brings himself out of his boxers. You hide a sigh at the sight of his broad hand curling around his thick cock. You hadn’t expected beauty in him, a softness of movement inside his rigid edges.  

He remains standing there unmoving and watches you stare, breathing shallowly as you drink him in. You think he must like it because you can see droplets of pre-cum gathering on the tip. It's obvious what he wants. 

Your heart gallops. "I don't-"

"'Course I could just go down to the sheriff and see what they make of this break in," Joel interrupts tightly. "Whatever you'd prefer."

It's blackmail, plain and simple. And considering how the threat of being tossed into the wild with the ravenous clickers is always an option when it comes to the sheriff, you know your choices are limited. 

His large hand has come to slip over the head of his cock, his hips moving to press into his fingers slowly. You seriously consider your chance of survival outside these walls survival when Joel tilts his head slightly, a small smirk playing on his lips. 

"I think you want it," he croons, his hand continuing to stroke himself shallowly. "Think you've wanted my cock for a while now, pretty eyes. Just been afraid to ask for it."

You frown, protestations dying on your lips as you consider his words. Had a small part of you been wondering what lay beneath your neighbors rough exterior? Was that why you had been so determined to engage with him in the first place? 

Wait, did he call you pretty eyes? 

A steady thrum starts between your legs at that, your knees pressing into the wood floor harshly. You feel too warm in your jacket, but you don't dare move. You feel like a trapped animal trying to outwit an apex predator. 

"Just a taste," Joel suggests when you don't reply, his hand moving from his cock to cup your cheek. You feel your lips parting subconsciously to take in a sharp breath as you regard him twitching inches from your mouth. 

Fuck why are you even considering this? You should be screaming, running away, not on your knees and looking at Joel's hard cock with what feels like a burgeoning anticipation. 

No. You're not doing this. It's fucking degrading. You barely know Joel Miller and this is- Your eyes fly open when his hand comes to grip your chin. His eyes are heavy lidded with lust, the pupils blown wide. 

"Open up," he commands huskily.  

When you don't immediately acquiesce you feel his thumb drag over your lower lip, curling over your bottom teeth and urging your mouth to open for him. 

After a moment of consideration your jaw goes slack and you feel your heart leap when Joel gives you a ghost of a smile. There is a brief shadow and you're almost convicted you saw a dimple in his right cheek. 

You don't have time to consider this because he's taken his cock in his hand again, stroking the base languidly.

"Mouth open. Tongue out." 

You hesitate, wondering how far this is all going to go. He's not actually going to go through with this, is he? You open your mouth a bit, your breathing coming out in hurried puffs. The amusement has fled from his features and he narrows those dark eyes of his on you

"Tongue. Out." 

The words are clipped and offer no room for negotiation. With a quiver that goes through your core, you do as instructed, slowly inching your tongue out of your mouth and letting it hang over your lower lip. 

He moves slowly, but you're still shocked when his hips shift forward. You turn your head at the last minute, panic overtaking you. Joel gives a grunt and you feel the warmth of his cock pressing against your cheek having just narrowly missed your mouth. 

He growls in frustration, his hand coming to grip the back of your head as he drags his cock along your cheek. You feel the pre-cum smearing along your skin to the corner of your mouth like some debauched trail of pleasure but you seal your mouth closed, a small form of rebellion. 

"Don't make me ask again."

His voice is low and dangerous. If it hadn't been so intimidating you might have pointed out that he hadn't asked for anything, just demanded. But as it is you’re caught in his home, his hand is wrapped in your hair and he doesn’t look like he’s fucking around.

You tilt your jaw and again stick out your tongue. With cock still in hand, he taps the weeping head onto your flattened tongue before letting it rest there, heavy and pulsing. The salty flavor of him explodes on your tongue, the ridges of his cock pronounced on your sensitive tongue. 

Your eyes crack open and move up the length of his body, noting that Joel's breathing picks up when your eyes meet his again. 

Without ceremony he slips past your lips, tensing only when you let out a small cry of surprise. When you offer no other protestations his cock inches further into the slick heat of your mouth. He gives a small shudder, his head tilting back and exposing the column of his neck.

Your eyes shutter closed, your mouth working around him, confused as to why you're not fighting this more.

"You deserve this," he says through slow exhales, his hand bracing on the wall behind you. His eyes are closed so you're not sure if he's talking to you or to himself. 

His hips snap forward and you whimper, feeling him inch closer to the back of your throat. One of his hands moves down to stroke your hair as he withdraws, his slick cock dragging against your lower lip. You exhale through your nose, catching your breath as you look up at him. 

He's breathing heavily, his mouth parted ever so slightly. 

"You can take it all," he tells you plainly.

And without another word he's thrust himself back fully into your mouth. So deep that your nose brushes against the wiry hairs at the base of his cock. You feel him hit the back of your throat and it takes everything not to gag or pull back. You have a feeling if you did he'd stop. 

But you want to continue. You want to hear what other noises Joel Miller makes when he gets his cock sucked. 

Does he do this often? Instruct women like he's done to you this evening? Fuck their mouths? The thought overruns your senses, imagining Joel in the throes of orgasm. Imagining that its you doing it to him. Your tongue swirls on the underside of him and you're rewarded with a shallow gasp.

Joel groans, watching your bob your head along his shaft. His hands are on either side of your jaw, guiding you along his slick member. 

"I just know this is makin' you wet," Joel grunts as his hips continue to thrust forward. "Me fucking this sweet mouth of yours." 

While you wish you could deny it, he's completely right. You are shocked at how wet you are. You can feel it there, pooling between your legs as you suck him.

His movements increase in tempo, the motions are abrupt and you search for purchase anywhere. Your hands go to the bottom of his t-shirt, gripping it as you urge him to bury himself completely in your mouth. 

He growls as he begins to fuck your throat hard, so hard your head jerks back and presses into the wall behind you. He pins your head there and shoves his cock deeper into your throat, giving sharp moans as you whimper and writhe, knowing you can't escape. For a moment all you can feel and see is Joel's cock, slick with your saliva sliding between your lips over and over again. After a few guttural grunts and thrusts his movements slow and he lets his cock simply pulse there, your lips straining to wrap around it.

"Show me those pretty eyes," he murmurs. He doesn't need to ask you twice, you lift your gaze up the length of him, hollowing your cheeks. When your eyes finally meet Joel's you hear a sharp inhale from him. 

"You have no idea how fucking gorgeous you look right now," he says, his teeth clenching as you continue to suck him. "F-fuck, those eyes staring up at me.. Your mouth so... So full of my cock... You like it don't you? Having my cock fill your sweet mouth?"

You make a low humming noise of approval. Those words, those filthy, delicious words wrap around your insides. Now your hands are at the base of his cock, stroking him as you swivel your tongue along his shaft. 

"So good," he grunts, his hand going to the top of your head. But instead of using it to brace you and push further into your mouth, it just rests there, almost fondly. 

It's you who grips the back of his thighs, urging him down your throat. You who moans wantonly not for him but because you're so turned on you can barely function. 

You suppose that's what tips him over the edge, your open desire. 

Now his movements are erratic and he's fucking into your mouth so harshly you think you might faint. Not from pain but because it feels so fucking good to be used like this. So taboo to have the grouch from next door using your mouth for his pleasure. So fucking heady knowing that he’s going to come because of you.

Your hands fly back to the base of his cock, stroking him as you swivel your tongue along his shaft. He makes a sound that could almost be a whimper if it weren't so low and gravelly. He tilts his chin down, watching you.   

"You want my come?" He grunts, pulling your hair back at the nape of your neck, forcing your gaze to his. You nod, your mouth stuffed with him and he makes a noise in the back of his throat as he pulls out from between your lips.  

"Say it.” He's visibly shuddering as he takes his cock in his hand and begins stroking. 

"I want it," you whimper, your body aflame. 

"What do you want?" He asks jerkily, his movements becoming staccato-ed. "You know what I wanna hear." 

"Please Joel," you say; drifting forward and licking the reddened head of his straining cock. "I want your come. Please." 

He licks his lower lip swiftly. 

"Fuck yeah you do," he sighs almost reverently before the fist around his cock increases in speed. "You're gonna take every last drop aren't you?"

Another nod from you and now your tongue is out, flattened and ready for him as you arch. Joel makes a tortured sound in the back of his throat. 

"Keep those pretty eyes on me," Joel whispers raggedly. "Don't you dare look away." 

Your eyes open just in time to see Joel Miller come undone before you. The face normally contorted into a frown or grimace is replaced by his mouth curved into a disbelieving smile as he looks down at you, his breathing coming out in short little rasps. Then he stills and you watch him spill out over his hand.

Thick ropes of his come erupt over you, landing in warm strips along your cheeks, your lips, your tongue. His hand continues stroking, painting you with him, muttering filth that you can't really hear before he is spent. 

Joel's legs tremble a moment, but grow steady as he leans against the wall with his forearm. You go to wipe your face but Joel shakes his head. 

"Don't move," Joel demands breathlessly. "I.. I just need to look at you."

You sit there, your face decorated with his seed and your eyes fixed on his face for what feels like forever. He looks at you as if you are art. As if you were designed and molded to be everything he wants. 

You want to bathe in the warmth of his eyes forever, but soon his breathing becomes even. He tucks himself back into his boxers and zips up his jeans. 

You sit there expectantly, unsure of what to do next. After everything that happened is-

"Get out."

You blink twice as the words sink in. You’re still kneeling there, still staring up at him when Joel pulls back, his gaze hard again. He raises a brow in irritation, a silent question of why are you still here?

Humiliated again by Joel Miller.  

You hastily wipe at the cooling seed on your face with the arm of your jacket as you scramble to a stand. Your eyes go to the stairs, thinking of how you'll get back inside your place and you make a motion to go down them. His hand shoots out, holding it in front of you to stop your movement. You notice he doesn’t touch you when he does this.   

"You can go the way you came," Joel says without inflection and somehow this option of escape feels like a further sting. He steps back, indicating the hallway window with a tip of his head and you move past him quickly, hot tears pricking the back of your eyes.

You pull open the window with ease, not looking behind you to see if he’s watching. You hope he’s not. You pull yourself over the sill and lower yourself onto the roof.  You hate yourself for looking back over your shoulder, hoping he’ll stop you and bring you back inside.

Instead you watch as Joel brings his wide hands to the lip of the window, preparing to shut it the moment he stops speaking.

"Don't ever break into my house again."

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller smut #smut #fanfic #pedro pascal #dad joel miller #fanfiction #dark!joel x reader #dark!joel miller #dark!joel #deaddovedecember2023

[imwetforyourmom]

not her

warnings: swearing, jealousy, crying, comparison, not proofread

a/n: yall seem like super excited about this series and im all for it tf

a/n 2: if ts is lowk sad, thats my fault, it was an accident I was listening to partially sad music and rlly got into it

PREVIOUS CHAPTER ~~~ NEXT CHAPTER

~

over the past few days, matt and amelias friendship had gotten closer, while y/n and matts was no less than just the title of ‘dating’. they didnt hang out, they didnt talk much and they didnt go on dates. but when y/n did ask matt to do anything, it was always ‘cant. im with amelia’ or ‘cant. ill be with amelia then’. it was always amelia this, amelia that. but never ‘sure baby! i totally want to hangout with my girlfriend’

y/n was fucking over it. she wanted to talk with matt about this all. she wasnt fucking gonna deal with het own boyfriend not acting like her boyfriend.

so, thats where she found herself, standing behind matt where he sat with amelia next to him. it was very obvious was she was being more than friendly to him, her hand was caressing his arm and her eyes were staring deeply into his. y/n bit her lip, fighting back the urge to bitch slap amelia.

y/n ran her hands through matts hair, annoucing her presence. matt flinched at the sudden touch, whipping his head around to look at who had just touched his hair. his eyes softening and a small smile creeping onto his lips when he saw who it was.

“matt? can we talk please?” y/n asked, her eyes studying matts features, god how she missed being this close to him, to be able to admire him.

matt turned his head to look at amelia, before looking back at y/n, “im talking with amelia, maybe later?” he asked. remorse present in his voice.

y/n moved her hand away from him and took a step back from them, refusing to look at amelia, as her eyes glossed over and a lump in her throat grew. breathing grew harder and she knew talking wouldnt be any easier.

“y- yeah. thats fine.” she mumbled, her voice breaking, she took a breath in. and began walking away, but not before saying a quick “I love you” to him out of instinct. she took slower steps away, expecting one back, she wanted to hear him say he loved her too.

but when she didnt hear one back and only heard him resume talking to amelia, her eyes immediately lost all control over the tears in her eyes, the hot tears running down her cheeks faster than she could comprehend. she held her breath, trying to make no sound obvious to the sobs she wanted to let out. but she couldnt let matt know how upset she was about this, and she certainly didnt want amelia feeling the satisfaction of making her cry.

y/n moved quickly, leaving the library where that entire interaction went down and pushed past the doors of the school, walking quick to her car.

she opened the door and sat inside, closing it the door and immediately breaking down, her sobs being loud, her tears being fast as they poured down her cheeks and her breathing incredibly hard.

she couldnt fucking believe it, her own boyfriend chose some other girl over her.

the boy she used to kiss goodnight and sleep in his arms every weekend, the boy she used to be able to come to and expect not to be lonely, the boy she knew she could come to when she was upset or when she just wanted company. but now she wasnt sure if she could, matt only wanted to be with amelia and not y/n.

does he understand how much he meant means to y/n? hes the reason shes not lonely, he was the reason she was able to fall asleep so peacefully at night, he was the reason she was happy everyday, so content with life and now she couldnt have that anymore because of that stupid fucking girl. stupid fucking bitch named amelia.

she took him away from her and she didnt know what to do. its obvious matt wasnt interested in y/n and was only interested in amelia and what she wanted to say or do, not the girl he dedicated his life to, not the girl he told ‘im yours’, not the girl he used to say ‘I love you’ to every time he possibly could.

y/n just wasnt her, not amelia, not what matt wanted, she didnt have beautiful green eyes like amelia did, she didnt have that lovely orange color of hair amelia did, she didnt have naturally beautiful freckles covering her skin like amelia did. amelia was her, and y/n wasnt.

y/n only cried harder, pulling her knees to her chest and hiding her face in her knees, sobs escaping her throat. being so gutural, it scratched her throat with each sound leaving her lips. but that didnt compare with the aching pain she felt in her chest, the lump in her throat being so big she could barely breathe.

what matt had dismissed earlier so easily wasnt so easy to handle with for y/n. all she wanted was matt to be her boyfriend and act like it.

she wanted to dial his number and call him, but she couldnt run to him like she always did. he wasnt going to be there for her like he always was, but he was going to be there for amelia.

a pit in her stomach formed with the overgrowing urge to run to matt, her body so familar with always going to matt, being so familar with his hands rubbing her back as sweet words left his lips, his voice lulling her to the warm hug of being okay. but she couldnt have him, she couldnt have the same comforting feeling he brought her.

she wanted him, she needed him but he wasnt within her arms reach anymore and she felt sick. sick with words she wanted to tell him. sick with the need of feeling matts touch. sick to her stomach with just wanting matt in her prescense, he wouldnt even have to do anything. she just wanted him with her with the gentle reminder he wanted her too and in the same room, but instead he was talking with another girl, giving his attention to another girl.

‘another girl, another girl’ was all y/n heard, her thoughts screaming into her ears.

1107 words.

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @genshin-addict @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @haunted-headset @dollyspsychoxo @sturnib-tch @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @mattsmad @sturn-bugz @sleepysturnss @xbabyd0lli3x @norr1ssturni0lo @nayveetbhh @jamiesturniolo

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo

[reidbae]

DAY 27: Stress Relief — period sex w/dom!aaron hotchner

KINKTOBER 2023: masterlist

summary: Your hot, older boss, who’s been protective of you since day one, helps to remedy your stress when he finds out your time of the month has come.

pairing: dom!fwb!aaron hotchner x sub!fem!reader

warnings/mentions: mention of periods (obv), along with blood but it's nothing crazy, use of a condom and small mention of latex, very heavily implied age gap, reader is very shy, vaginal sex, piv sex, hip/thigh gripping, fondling, use of my love, angel, honey, sweet girl, and princess, reader is fucked dumb but also not rlly, hotch is super doting but there's some teasing, too, lots of praise, SO much slowburn i'm sorry lol (like the first 1.5k ish words), lmk if i missed anything!

wc: 3.3k

a/n: went a little overboard with this one oops :P also i'm gonna *try* to fill in most of the gaps i've missed for kinktober this weekend, but no promises <3 hope y'all enjoy this one!

tags: @nalycandy @prettyboydrspencerreid @mega-kittyglitter-1 @mrs-ssa-hotch @boimlers-gonna-boim

You were working tirelessly in the bullpen of the BAU, when a caring, yet firm, hand landed on your shoulder.

It was that of your unit chief, Aaron Hotchner’s: And also, your lover’s. You and Aaron had been seeing each other in private for a while now, and while not officially together, you were pretty damn close to it.

The older man had taken on a calm, caring, and loving role in your pairing, always handling you in a sweet, and never hostile way.

It was a sharp comparison to the manner in which he carried himself in the field, but that was a different story, for a different time.

You usually saw Aaron everyday when work ended, you coming over his house, or vice versa. If you didn’t, you’d let the other know, and there would be some exchange of affection, at least.

But that wasn’t the case this week.

You had dozens of case files and paperwork to finish. You had work to do in general because of the main job, but even more than your team, mainly due to the way you had handled your previous case. Strauss wasn’t happy about it, and neither were you, because you had a hell of a lot of work to do now because of it.

As a result, you had been spending less and less time with Aaron, even avoiding him when you could, so he wouldn’t get a feel for your grouchy mood.

It didn’t help, also, that you were on your period.

When Aaron’s kind hand landed on your shoulder, you looked up in surprise to see him hovering above you, all packed up and ready to go home. He would usually stay a little later as the week ended, working as tirelessly as you were on paperwork.

So to seem him here, ready to pack it in for the day, was a little unusual.

“Hi,” you spoke, looking up at him with a shy expression. He could see the worn out look that your eyes held, the bags under them giving you away.

“Hello,” Aaron spoke in his calm, composed tone of voice, one you usually heard when he was addressing people in the field. It wasn’t always a bad thing, really, seeing as that’s the way he was supposed to speak.

But when he used it on you, you knew you were in for a bit of a talk.

As you’d done various times before, you moved the case files you were working on aside, so that Aaron could lean on your desk. He did so, and crossed his arms as his gaze lingered on yours.

“You want to tell me what’s wrong?” Aaron said brusquely as he looked down at you; His expression was genuine, though, as he did, and you could tell that he cared.

You looked down and away from him, letting out a heavy sigh, not prepared to have this talk with him. “What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong,” you said in a timid, low voice, avoiding the tall man’s gaze.

“Please don’t lie to me, honey. I can tell something is wrong. I’m a profiler, remember? Just like you,” Aaron reminded you, and from the corner of your eye, you could see his expression change from loving to firm.

“We’re not supposed to profile each other,” you reminded him, your tone small as you answered him. Aaron let out a little chuckle, shaking his head above you.

“Fair enough,” Aaron chuckled. “That doesn’t mean I can’t still worry for you, honey. You haven’t been yourself. I’m sure you know that.”

You gave him a shrug, not quite sure what to say in response to that. “Yeah, well—I haven’t been the best,” you admitted to him.

Your reveal caused Aaron to crouch down next to you, the way he likely had done for his son, Jack, so many times. You suddenly felt just as small, and turned your head away from him.

Aaron guided your face back to his seconds later, his dark brown eyes boring into yours. The look was sweet, though, and soft, as he put a warm hand on your thigh.

“What’s wrong, angel?” Aaron asked you curiously. You couldn’t deny the wave of butterflies that soared through your figure when he said that, and you bit your lip.

“I just have a lot of work to do, that’s all. And I’ve been—Moody,” you vaguely explained to him. You avoided using the word, “period,” for a fear of the weirded out look Aaron could give you if he heard it.

But Aaron took the words from your mouth in mere seconds, like he’d been able to do on numerous occasions. “Are you on your period, my love?”

Your eyes widened when he asked you this; Your cheeks warmed up as soon as his words finished, and you swallowed. “H- How did you know that?” you asked bewilderedly.

“Come on, princess. Do you really think I wouldn’t pick up on it? You get moody like this at least once a month, and I’ve been seeing you for seven. It doesn’t take a profiler to figure out what the cause of that is,” Aaron explained to you, rubbing his hand over your thigh. His tone wasn’t teasing, though, his words flowing from his lips in a warm manner.

You hid your face with your hands, hating, and loving, the way he could read you so easily. Aaron chuckled as you mumbled to him, “That’s so embarrassing.”

“It’s not embarrassing,” he assured you, moving his hand from your thigh to your shoulder. You’d be wondering how he was keeping his balance so well, if it weren’t for the fact that you were being so awkward. “It’s normal, and nothing to be ashamed of, honey. You’re okay.”

After a while of Aaron rubbing your shoulder, the unit chief broke the silence once again. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me so much?” he asked.

“I have not been avoiding you,” you said to him, even if you knew you were lying through your teeth.

That was the very thing you’d been doing.

“Do you want to convince me that, or yourself?” Aaron chuckled, keeping his hand where it was on your shoulder. You shrugged.

“Okay, so maybe I have been a little bit. But it’s not you. I’ve just been so tired and stressed, and—I don’t know. I know it doesn’t make sense,” you said to him.

“It doesn’t have to make sense to me, honey. As long as it does to you, that’s fine with me. I understand,” he told you. “You need a break from work. Come on. Let me take you home.”

“No, Aaron, I need to finish these files,” you all but whined, the very idea of abandoning your unfinished work making you uneasy. Aaron chuckled and got up, holding his hand out for you to take.

“Come on, sweet girl. Don’t force me to make this an order,” Aaron said to you. You couldn’t really tell if he was joking or not.

But you weren’t about to argue with him regardless.

With a huff, you took his hand and got out of your chair. Aaron draped your coat over your shoulders, making sure you were warm. He then took you by the waist and walked you out of the bullpen, and out to his car.

Knowing you didn’t feel like driving, and promising to give you a ride to work the following day, Aaron drove you home in his car, attached to your hip until you reached the front door of your house.

“Here we are,” Aaron said as he held your hand, guiding you to your door, like you would fall if he let you go. Aaron pressed a loving kiss to your cheek, smiling down at you. “Call me if you need me, okay?”

You gave him a confused, and a bit of a sad expression when he said that. “Wh—You’re not going to stay?” you asked.

Aaron’s expression then mirrored yours, and he looked as confused as you were. His eyes glimmered, though, with what you assumed was hope in response to what you had just said. “I—Well, I didn’t think you’d want me to. I figured you needed your space.”

You shook your head at his cluelessness, sighing at the fact that he could even think that for a second. “No, I—I do want you to stay. I didn’t think you’d want to.”

Aaron chuckled, shaking his head at you and cupping your face with his hand. The heat of it engulfed you, and you nuzzled into his touch. “Of course I do, angel. You know I love taking care of you,” he murmured. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before saying, “And I always will.”

—

He wasn’t kidding.

Hours later, you were curled up in Aaron’s lap after an evening of pampering from him. He had made you tea, gotten you all of the snacks you were craving, even leaving the house to do so, and gotten you changed into comfy sleepwear, but not before showering you clean first.

It was days like this that made you wonder how you had landed yourself such a wonderful man; A man who wasn’t even fully yours.

But, God, the way he handled you—Like you were a real life princess, and he was ready to serve you at any command. It was nearly impossible to comprehend.

The unit chief’s hands were tangled in your hair, playing with it as he held you there in his lap. Your face was hidden in his chest as you closed your eyes, relishing in his touch.

You had been sitting there in silence for a while, and Aaron finally broke the silence by pressing a small kiss to your forehead. “Is there anything else I can do for you, angel?” he cooed. “Anything at all that you need?”

You shook your head, lifting your eyes up to meet his soft ones as he looked down at you. “No. No, I’m fine. Thanks for being here for me," you smiled.

Both of Aaron’s hands went down to your hips, holding them in a tender manner as he smiled warmly at you. “You know I always will be, princess.”

You smiled back at him, moving closer to him to press your lips to his. Aaron responded by rubbing your back, his lips eagerly answering your kiss.

When your kiss moved from slow to passionate, Aaron moved you in his lap, so that your legs were on either side of it. He was rubbing your back as you kissed him, and you all but melted into his embrace.

You had never felt this needy for him before. Never felt this needy for one human being before.

That’s just the effect that Aaron had on you.

You were snapped back into reality seconds later when Aaron’s hands began to dance at the hem of your underwear, close, too close, to pulling them down.

You tried to move his hands away, quickly growing shy at Aaron’s move. “No, Aaron, I- I’m on my period, w- we can’t—“ you began to slur.

Aaron cut you off.

“Come on, angel. Do you really think I care about that?” Aaron cooed in a loving tone, looking into your eyes. “I won’t pressure you, princess. But I can feel your need, and I am happy to oblige you.”

“But—“

“No buts. It’s up to you. If you need me to wear a condom, I will. And if you need me to just pleasure you, then I am okay with that, too,” he whispered, cupping your cheek gingerly. “You’re not feeling good, and if I can make you feel better, I will.”

You were rendered speechless for several long seconds, unsure of how to respond to Aaron’s kind words.

Fuck, was he even real?

“Are—Are you sure?” you asked him, because you were unsure yourself about this. You had never had sex on your period before, let alone with a man who worshipped you like a goddess.

“I’m sure, princess. Say the word and I’m yours,” Aaron told you, running his thumb up and down your cheek. You gave him a shy look, and then a nod.

“I want you. I really do, Aaron, but—Only if you’re sure,” you said again. Aaron chuckled, shaking his head at you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, princess? I’m sure. Positive. Get that in your pretty head,” Aaron chuckled, causing you to smile as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Now, tell me what you want," he said.

“I—Um—“ you began, really not knowing the answer to that query. You bit down on your tongue, taking some time to think to yourself, before speaking once more.

“Well, I want to feel you, but—Can you use a condom, please? It’d just make me feel better,” you said timidly. Usually, you and Aaron didn’t use condoms very much, but you had a box of them in your house, anyways.

“Yes, honey. Go grab one for me,” Aaron smiled, kissing your lips before you got up.

Aaron took the condom from you when you came back with it, not saying another word on the matter. This is what you wanted, so that’s what he would give you.

You sat back in his lap as Aaron moved down his joggers, followed by his boxers. After what felt like years, Aaron’s cock sprung free from them, and from what you could see, he was already incredibly hard; Pre-cum leaked from his tip.

You sat in your own neediness as Aaron put the condom on, making sure that the latex reached the very bottom of his dick.

When he was finished, he gripped your hips, and pulled you to hover over him. He didn’t say a word on the blood that was so clearly in his vision; Instead, he lowered you down onto him, allowing you to take all of him.

Even after all this time, you had never gotten used to just how big Aaron was, his cock leaving you brimming with it each time you had sex.

And, as it happened, “Fuck,” was always the first word that left your lips.

Aaron chuckled at your vulgar use of language, and pulled you closer, beginning to kiss your neck. “Language, princess,” he said in a joking voice.

You giggled, biting down on your lip as you rode him. “Sorry.”

Aaron smirked up at you, but didn’t tease you more. Instead, he began to kiss your neck again, attacking it with a fervid passion.

Aaron left a trail of hickeys behind as he kissed and sucked at your neck; You were surely going to have to cover them up for work the next day.

One of Aaron’s hands went under your shirt, and with ease, unclasped your bra in one go. He discarded it to the side, as though it were the most unnecessary thing in the world, and began to circle his thumbs over your nipples.

You were worried you would hear the sound of blood as the two of you made love, but your whines and whimpers fully combatted the noise: You couldn’t hear a thing.

“There’s my good girl. You feel so good, princess,” Aaron inattentively praised you, his lips split open in pleasure. You whined in response to his words.

“You—Too,” you stuttered back out at him, your brain fogging up with the pleasure of the experience. “Mmm.”

Your eyes closed, and you leaned your head on Aaron’s shoulder as you moved yourself up and down. Aaron chuckled, bringing one of his hands away from your nipples to tangle into your hair. “What’s the matter, princess? Am I fucking you dumb?”

You let out a low whimper at Aaron’s teasing words, scrunching your face up in embarrassment. “Y- Yes, Aaron. You are.”

Aaron chuckled in response, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Good. That’s what I like to hear, honey,” he smiled.

After a while, Aaron felt the need to take over, and grabbed you by the hips once more. He flipped you over onto your back and climbed on top of you, moving into you now at a lethal pace.

“Oh,” you whispered in surprise, Aaron’s sudden change in pace causing your eyes to widen. But you weren’t complaining.

“Hm?” Aaron hummed to you, his breath warm on your nose as he moved himself into you. You shook your head in response.

“Nothing,” you murmured, earning a sly smirk from Aaron.

“Your thighs are shaking so much, honey,” Aaron whispered to you, kissing your neck again. “Relax for me, okay, princess? I’ll make you feel good," he cooed.

You felt yourself blushing as you nodded your head, surrendering to Aaron without having to think twice about it.

You were all his.

You were a hot, moaning mess under Aaron as your high approached dangerously close. Your period made you so much needier, so much more sensitive, and you were beginning to feel the effects of it.

Your expression was lewd as Aaron sensed your need, moving into you as quickly as he could, needy as you were to get you off. You were whimpering his name like there was no tomorrow, your climax burning low inside you.

“Shhh, princess, I know, I know. Almost there, honey, okay?” Aaron cooed in a loving voice as an answer to your whines, pressing butterfly kisses to your neck as he spoke to you.

All self-control fled your body as Aaron fucked you, and there was never another moment where you knew more what it was like to feel alive. Human, even.

“Please, I wanna cum. I wanna cum so bad,” you were mumbling over and over again, your speech unclear, all logical words fleeing your body.

“I know, my love,” Aaron whispered to you.

Then, Aaron did something you didn’t think would happen; He moved his hand down your body, and began to rub circles into your clit.

Immediately, you shook your head, trying to get his hand away as you realized what he was doing. “No, A- Aaron, no, the—Blood,” you all but exclaimed. Aaron shushed you with a kiss, letting his tongue slip into your mouth.

That sure as hell shut you up.

When he pulled back, his cheeks were flushed pink, and his dark hair was smeared over his forehead, stuck to it with sweat. “I don’t mind it, princess. I told you this. You need this, don’t you?”

Your eyes met his, and you nodded shyly.

“So stop it, and let me make you feel good, angel,” Aaron cooed, kissing your lips.

Your brain was too cloudy to argue back to him, and you relished in the feeling of his tongue tangled with yours, his thumb working rapid circles into your bundle of nerves.

“Aaron—!” you whined.

He had you finishing in seconds.

“Go ahead, princess. Scream for me.”

You did just that, his name leaving your lips in a way that your neighbors were going to hate. Your eyes shut with the feeling of pure bliss washing over your body, and you whined over and over again as you came down from your high.

When you were both all done, Aaron moved out from inside of you, and took the condom off. He smiled down at you, and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Was that good?”

You didn’t see how that was even a topic of discussion. Eagerly, you nodded. “More than.”

“Good. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay, sweet girl? I don’t want you to feel messy or anything,” Aaron said in a sweet voice, running his fingers through your hair.

You nodded at the brown-eyed man, smiling. "Aaron?"

"Yes, my love?"

You giggled up at him, responding to him in a soft, shy tone of voice, "Thank you."

Aaron's face softened, and he pressed one more kiss to your cheek for good measure, smiling down at you. "Anytime."

—

reblogs are very much appreciated! <3

—

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#criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #hotch x reader #criminal minds imagine #hotch

[onyourhyuck]

LOWLIFE. | L.DH

— Prologue: “Dear diary, today Lee Haechan looked so fucking hot coming out of the boy’s changing rooms shirtless and I can’t believe how quickly I got turned on staring at his bare stomach.” — He pauses turning to you holding up the red book. “Oh y/n and you claim to be innocent, then what is all of this?”

— Summary: Where your childhood enemy found your diary one day where you wrote all your dirty thoughts about Lee fucking Haechan.

— Genre: Childhood enemies. Smut dni. Haechan is mean, cruel and horrible to y/n but she somehow likes it. Haechan treats y/n like she’s his pet. Hard Dom x submissive y/n. Edging and overstimulation. Mention of sex toys being used in public. It’s pretty filthy. Haechan doesn’t give Y/n a break. He sorta blackmails her, but everything is consensual. Minors dni. Manipulative Haechan. Y/n peeks and stalks Haechan secretly, she watches him change in the boys changing rooms.

— Notes:

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There is one secret no one knows about you except piece of paper all jumbled inside a journal. Two years worth of research and your dark secrets. You are known as the quiet girl at your school. You don’t have many friends and you prefer your own company than yourselves shared with others.

You’re a pretty girl, the innocent type that looks lost all the freaking time. You wear thick black glasses, your hair is mostly straight and down with your bangs out. You try to stay out of everyone’s eyes because of your shyness.

But one thing no one knows is that you have the biggest crush on your childhood enemy Lee fucking Donghyuck, infamously known as Haechan at your school.

You weren’t sure why you started developing these sudden feelings for the boy when he’s done nothing but completely ignore you unless he wants to bully the fuck out of you with his annoying group of friends.

You see you and Donghyuck used to be friends. Quite close friends actually up until you both started going to middle school you lost your friendship and Donghyuck turned on you suddenly. He became friends with another group of people. Leaving you all alone. But nonetheless you remain the same.

He started doing all things to you because he knew you were weak and defenceless he also knew you cared for him so it made this twice as more thrilling for the sadistic boy.

You’re leaving your classroom soon to leave the high school. You’re a senior who’s going through the terrible exam trauma season, just like every other senior student in your school has been doing for these past month and a half. You left packing your bag in an empty classroom because everyone was dismissed to go home, no student was left behind except of course you.

You’re taking your time packing your things. The class that you’re coming out of was history and that’s something you’re pretty good at. Honestly you’re probably the only student who’s taking that subject seriously. Your teacher always praised you for contributing when no one else was.

You walk towards the doorway about to leave till a long arm blocks the road to leaving the class, you could recognise the arm from mile away, in fact you could smell this distinctive smell from countries if you could. It was Lee Haechan running in with short sleeve white plain shirt and sweatpants he wore the sports attire looking like he was dripping an entire ocean from his hair and down the face.

You hate how much you were weak in comparison to the boy because knowing him he wasn’t feeling as stargazed as you are watching every bead sweating down his chin, to hear the sound of his ruffle pants, the veiny hands clenching the doorway because he wants to go inside to grab his remaining stuff and bag he’d forgot in your class due to the football practice.

“D-donghyuck…!”

You gulp as he saw your gaze lower down and he pushes through you staring you down like you were a piece of meat to him.

“Move out of my way specs.” He taunts going behind the classroom grabbing the black bag putting it on one side of the shoulders while grabbing the grey celine hoodie in the other arm. He turns towards the door again watching you standing there like a lost dumb sheep.

He always called you these devastating teasing names because of your glasses, even though he wears them, he found it to be fun seeing you grow shy or blush at these names. Somehow you never once told him to stop which made him think you probably enjoy the slightest attention you get from him.

He wasn’t wrong.

You did like it even though many people found it to be the term ‘bullying’. In your eyes it was called something that friends do, no, not even friends would do this. Instead it’s something you and Donghyuck do. Just you together.

“Why are you still standing there like you have something to say to me?” A smirk crawls right on his bronze stultifying face he was glowing with sweat making him look like a giant star right in front of you it was impossible not to stare. Donghyuck’s voice had a way of pulling your head into the gutter where everything was ten times more lewd and unnecessarily making you a huge mess.

You look away from the moment his two dangerous daggers were watching you up and down waiting for an answer you could’ve give. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak up enough.

“Oh. You’re not going to answer me now? Don’t you think when someone’s talking to you it’s polite to look at them when they are.” He tauntingly adds closing the space between you where his hands crawls up to your jawline latching it in the hold of his palms and then twisting your face round so you can stare at his face.

Your eyes met and he felt your breathing hitch and your mouth letting out a tiny yelp in the process of twisting you round to face him finally. Your throat goes dry and you swiftly shake your eyes when he was watching you with a face that could kill you. You’re praying that he can’t hear the way your lungs were hyperventilating.

You break midst trying to make sense. “Donghyuck i—“ He blankly looks at you. “Haechan.” He strut towards you once more.

You’re blinking now helplessly, in confusion.

“It’s Haechan. Not Donghyuck.” You can see that he was now visibly annoyed by how you’re freely calling him by his first name. Unlike everyone in the school and even the teachers, they know him by Haechan. They call him Haechan and nothing else.

But you’re not someone who was used to calling him by such a foreign name because he will always be little Donghyuck to you. The Lee Donghyuck who was your friend and will always be that person to you in your heart. You couldn’t help it you suppose you were too used to calling him by that.

“Sorry I slipped my tongue i guess.” You say apologetically.

He wanted to roll at you apologising because he knew no matter what he says you’ll always forget it and do the same again; calling him by his first name that he so hated. He hates the way you call him so sweetly too as if you care for him. If anything it was pathetic. You were pathetic.

“I’m going now.” You announce without Haechan’s care he silently stares, not giving much care to you. You bow your head leaving the classroom and he watches you leave until something dropped at the back of the classroom making the boy twitch around and walk to what could’ve fell.

He thought at first it was one of the paintings on the walls but when walking to the further back something slides on the wall when the left leg hit something skidding a square book on the floor.

It was a red journal with a leather type strapping case round it and he felt his eyebrows twitch when he picks it up standing in middle of the classroom where he was the only one left now.

‘Did Specs leave this behind?’ He thought dusting it off. Donghyuck looks behind him until he sighs trailing off. “She’s so hopeless, what an idiot.” He frowns as he opens the book.

“I bet she’s got class notes here.” He mockingly adds. “She’s got nothing better to do.”

He wasn’t expecting anything in that stupid journal of yours if anything he was expecting it to be the most boring thing ever written and he could’ve read. It should’ve been history. It should’ve been maths or maybe even freaking science he was reading. — but the minute the pages were flipping through like a crust off the bread he saw the life out of his eyes leave his body like he saw the most unbelievable things ever to be discovered.

It was a moment to remember for sure because even the soul inside him was deceiving him when he saw the written things you’ve done and thought about. It will never end now. Donghyuck will never let you live this down even in death he will remind you of this forever and ever, because this was a whole new side to you that you’ve been hiding.

And whatever you’re hiding now is with him.

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“Nonononono!”

You are rummaging around your bedroom trying to find where on earth your diary could be it’s not like it’s easy to forget it somewhere considering how bright red it is. It’s not entirely small either so you have no idea where it could be.

You’re stressing out because what if you lost that thing forever? You had the diary since the start of your second year in high school. You can’t lose it now, it’s too precious to lose.

Your mother is standing by the door arms crossed watching your distance expression go from small sadness to absolutely terrified thought of someone finding it. It’s not exactly the most pleasant thing to find when you have your deepest secrets written on there that no one could ever know.

“Where could it be?” You grab on your duvet lifting it up trying to search your bed now from head to toe. You’re going on all fours looking underneath the bed and then looking over it. Hell you were even looking inside your attic for it and you knew it could’ve be there but there was a slight chance your mother put it up there with the rest of the storage garbage.

You sat down sighing deeply failing at finding your precious item that’s got your heart running hundred miles a minute just by thinking all sorts of bad scenarios that you could be having right now.

“I swear it was just here in my bag, I am sure of it. I never leave it behind without me.” You state seriously, your mother knows how important it is for you now that she saw your eyes searching everywhere for it.

She looks around the room seeing the amount of mess laying on the ground, your clothes on the scattering bedroom floor, your wardrobes open door widely available for anyone to look inside, your bed was a mess and so was your school bag. You forced it open letting everything out when you saw your diary missing.

“Honey maybe you left it at your school locker have you thought of that?” Your mother told you.

It was certainly a possibility it could’ve been there, you will check tomorrow but you swore you grabbed it on your way home in the history class.

Your voice hurls at the end syllables like you were still unconvinced by the whole lot.

“Check tomorrow okay? Clean up for now. Your whole room is a pigsty mess. Afterwards come downstairs to have your dinner.”

She leaves your room and you lay on the bed suddenly before your legs curl up kicking in the air. You wanted to rip your hair out because now you’re here worried as hell about your flipping diary that could ruin you — quite frankly it could make your whole life miserable. If anyone read it that is. But no one would read something like that and expect it’s you, right?

You told yourself it’s okay. There’s many people with your name, therefor no one will expect it’s you. Afterall you’re a nobody at your school.

You turn around when you saw your phone screen pop up with a new notification. Turning to the phone grabbing it with your palm, you saw an unfamiliar username texting you.

‘No way…’

“Lee Donghyuck!” You murmur sitting up on your bed now intensely looking at the screen wondering why was he texting you this late? Actually why was he texting you at all. He doesn’t text you unless he calls to force you to give him your class notes so he could cheat in the tests.

You couldn’t believe it until you open it up fully replying back.

lee donghyuck : Specs come meet me right now.

You : What why?

lee donghyuck : Don’t ask and just do it.

You : I don’t want to donghyuck I’m very busy i don’t want to go anywhere.

lee donghyuck : that’s fine i’m outside your house.

You: WHAT

You couldn’t believe the text in front of you. Your mouth was wide open dropping dead at how fast he responded.

Lee fucking Donghyuck was outside your house, unannounced. It pulled you thinking you did something wrong because why else would the hottest guy at your school be there?

Running down you grabbed the spare black hoodie on yourself before opening the door letting a harsh cold breath of air hitting your face putting all your hair up and your gaze meets the boy standing in front of your door, he wore a white hoodie with a spare denim jeans. He looked super good out of the school uniform you had to admit.

You couldn’t stop drooling but you looked away questionably.

Donghyuck saw your expression falling apart but the moment you had your eyes laying on him like he was the most ethereal person ever he felt a giant egotistical boost to the already large ego he has.

Your mouth opens unable to find any motive nor the reasoning for his sudden actions. “What are you doing here Donghyuck— at 8pm.” You look at your phone lockscreen. The time was taken away and the boy gave a quick smirk to you.

“Y/n?— who is it.”

Your mother rushes to the front door the moment she saw Donghyuck her expression lit up. But yours fell into darkness out of hell because you knew damn well your mother was about to embarrass you through her way. She remembers Donghyuck, in fact she loved little Donghyuck. But she didn’t know you guys were still not friends anymore and she doesn’t know how much of a giant bully he is to you now.

Because of course you don’t want to burden your mother with how much you are confusing with Donghyuck. When he’s without his friends he’s probably half decent and with his friends he’s got no decency to his own persona. However he certainly wasn’t your friends either way.

But you guys still treat and speak to one another as if you guys were.

“Oh my gosh if it isn’t Lee Donghyuck! I haven’t seen you since you were… oh my lord this small to my ankles darling.”

Donghyuck gave this foreign smile to his beautiful face full off mysterious evil because you knew damn well he couldn’t smile for anyone this sweetly. You look at that smile you cannot recognise it felt like everything you knew of him now was gone. Your mother welcomes the boy inside your home. As much as it gave you massive anxiety to have your crush and enemy in your freaking house.

“Ah it’s okay Y/n’s mum i came over to see Y/n. If it’s okay that is. I have something important to discuss regarding our maths test we have tomorrow.”

It somehow made you wonder why he was here in the first place and what was he intending to do.

The room grew into a tiny square because you felt your lungs puff out by the mention of maths. Donghyuck’s scarce energy could kill you there was an eerie sense about this whole thing and you could feel it at the bottom of your stomach ready to cause a spillage over.

Your mother smiles. “Of course. Y/n take Donghyuck upstairs and show him what he needs so he can be on his way.”

You look at your mother giving a nod saying nothing. Your gaze returns to Donghyuck who was staring at you already, smirking widely like he won something.

But you couldn’t put your hands on it.

Donghyuck slowly enters your room seeing how much of a mess it is he can imagine what you’ve been looking for, it somehow would begin to fill his empty stomach with cruel satisfaction seeing you worry because he was five steps ahead of you before you know it the moment he hears you come in and close the door he grabbed your wrist turning around and throwing you on the bed making you lay there as you let out a soft scream that’s cut off by a lean dainty hand with long fingers and a vein stretching on it so mythically making this feel like a fever dream seeing how the boy who hates your guts the most was on top of you covering your mouth.

He smuggles his palm across your soft chapped mouth putting his finger on his lips to shush you down with a look belonging to a man with malicious intents.

A shiver was sent down your neck watching him. He loved seeing this expression of confusion on you, the way your eyebrows furrow together arching down to resemble a small animal scared to die.

“Shhh. Don’t scream okay, understand?” He said looking for somewhat a nod or something from you.

You look at him letting out a muffled okay and a nod with your head. He slowly retracts back his hand when he felt like he could let you go and then going inside the hoodie pockets he would take out,

Your freaking diary.

“How did you—!”

You couldn’t believe your eyes but you open your mouth to shout what and how does he have this but he puts a finger on your lips glaring down at you.

“You said you would be quiet.” He growls at you as if he knew you’d be like this and you move your eyes ready to grab the diary but he has stretched his arm up in the air making you fall over and tip toe to grab it.

“Give me that back. It’s mine.”

But no matter what you’ll always be unable to reach it no matter how much you jump or do the tip toe with your feet you’re never going to reach your diary when he’s got this long arms and legs. He was looking at you smirking widely.

“Donghyuck this isn’t funny give me my diary back!” You shout with your eyes watching the diary in his hand.

“Nahuh.” He said with a condescending laugh pulling away from you holding the diary down again in the both hands. You watch him with your eyes widen terrified by this.

You wished it could be anyone but him, anyone but him. Donghyuck was the spawn of devil in other words he’s going to ruin you now.

You felt small and exposed by this whole thing you couldn’t believe it this whole time your flipping diary was with the guy you were literally begging it not to be with it’s like earth was punishing you. It’s like this was your most lowest point of your life now, you’re doomed and you are in disbelief because how can this happen to you?

You whisper begging. “Please can i have it back?”

You tried to appear pathetic than you already look because embarrassment and shame wasn’t enough to describe how you’re feeling currently in this moment on. But it seems like the boy had no intention of letting you go easily, at least not like this. He hasn’t even had his fun yet with you.

Donghyuck ignores your plead starting to open the diary up. The fingers were flipping the pages to a section in the middle where a crowding smile was drawn on the boy’s cheeks like a Cheshire Cat.

You clench your hands seeing him open it. “Donghyuck don’t read it.” You say out loud in panic.

“Shhhh Y/n I’m trying to find a very specific page.” He retorts back until he found it looking back with a bright light on him. “Aha! Found it.”

He turns to you to get a good wild and live experience of seeing the life crush out of your eyes and leaving your home. You’re dreading it seeing that the boy knew exactly how to push your buttons now. He had control and you weren’t even aware of it until you were read like a story from Donghyuck reading upon the pages with his fingers and his eyes trailing from word to word on the diary page. “Dear diary, today Lee Haechan looked so fucking hot coming out of the boy’s changing rooms shirtless and I can’t believe how quickly I got turned on staring at his bare stomach.” — He pauses turning to you holding up the red book. “Oh y/n and you claim to be innocent, then what is all of this?”

You stand there still like you were a mime stuck in an imaginary see through dimension box. You wish you were actually because Donghyuck’s live vocals reading your own diary out loud to you knowing damn well it’s about him and how your true feelings were there about lingering. It was embarrassment beyond anything you’ve ever felt before and you don’t wish this on anyone, not this feeling not when your enemy.

“Now tell me this. How long have you been spying on me in the boy’s changing rooms?” He smirks waiting for some kind of vocal response from you but all he got from you was bright red cheeks and trembling eyes.

As much as he loved seeing you this ashamed he wanted actual words and not just a physical reaction. Perhaps you were shocked. Too shocked to even speak. Donghyuck fits his tongue across his cheek balling it up in annoyance. “No answer? Of course no answer you’re the one who writes all these dirty fantasies with me in this book.”

You look away stuttering. “I- I didn’t mean to look at you getting changed.”

He laughs. “Oh yeah? Your diary says otherwise darling.” He rolls the pages out. “Here it says you’d want me to fuck your mouth full of my load until you can’t talk anymore so how about that?”

You didn’t want him to re-read all your dirty thoughts about Haechan you have with him out loud it physically pains you and makes you cringe out loud even more than you’d think.

“I want him to make me scream his name so the whole world knows I’m his.”

‘I can’t… make it stop.’

“Lee Donghyuck can be mean to me and treat me like shit and I’d crawl back for more.” He laughs finding this one sort of funny. Who would’ve thought you’d crawl back to him for more.

You clench your nails into your palm.

“My favourite one is this one.” Donghyuck clears his throat straightening up the shoulders as he starts to tauntingly read. “I’m starting to think i may have feelings for my enemy Lee Donghyuck it’s shameful because it began with the moment he started to hate me.”

“Oh specs that’s freaking shameful. Are you a masochist perhaps?” He snorts watching you. He may be right at this moment. Donghyuck knew you could handle this shame considering you wrote a whole diary dedicated to him he must give you the prompt that you did well worshiping him behind the close doors.

It’s an effort to be this diligent as you.

“Can I have it back now… are you done insulting me yet?” You bit your bottom lip now simple angered and Donghyuck could notice the visible fire in your eyes nevertheless he couldn’t care and he took a step forward pushing you down on the bed making you sit down as he grabs a fistful of your hair tugging it.

You couldn’t help but wince but somehow you wanted him to pull more of your head. He made you look up at him as he puts the diary in the air again with his hand raising it up.

“I’m not done with you Y/n. Listen up if you don’t want the whole world to know about your fucking secret then you listen to me and do as i say got it?” Donghyuck spat leering his eyes at you and you harshly clench your eyes nodding as he lets go off your head.

“Good, tomorrow wear this and don’t take it off understood?”

Your gaze goes bleak and pale like you’ve possible seen a freaking paranormal ghost right now but the minute you touch the small pocket sized vibrator you look at Donghyuck with shaky teeth.

“W-What? Why am i going to wear this tomorrow. ” You let out pushing the Vibrator back but Donghyuck taunts you smirking.

“I don’t want to do that.” You state throughly.

“Wear it tomorrow or your mother will know about your diary. You wouldn’t want your mother knowing how much of a slut her daughter is right?”

He coos brushing some of your bangs behind the ears smiling down at you evilly and you shudder at his warm touch against your pale skin. You gulp looking down.

Looks like there’s only one way.

“Good it’s settled then.” He says after you gone quiet thinking about it seeing how you’re up for it now. You couldn’t help but think how cruel and mean he is you are starting to completely change your whole feelings about the boy. But some deep part of you only remembers the little him. It was a war in your body knowing damn well you aren’t able to fully hate him.

But you’re sure of one thing now.

Donghyuck is the biggest lowlife.

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The next day came but you’ve never been dreading more about the sun rising to pass on the next day. You hated that you came into school full jumpy and anxious knowing damn well your enemy is on the hunt to end you. To torture you on endless terms.

The first class you had was English but you couldn’t help but sit down blowing out gentle air waves from your lips as you get out your English’s book and workload papers from the last lesson.

The next minute someone else enters after you slamming down behind you taking a seat there. You weren’t sure who would sit there because no one sat there before. Everyone has an arranged seating arrangement that can’t be changed.

You turn around to see who it was only to be met with the familiar sight of the boy laid back slanting watching you keenly.

“Donghyuck…?” You let out as you turned to look around and the boy leans in whispering. Then a sudden burst of energy from underneath your school black skirt begins to run you down your spine with shivers. Donghyuck saw your face disappear from surprised to shocked knowing you, you were probably embarrassed to realise the situation you’re in. The vibration in your panties had you squirming on your seat suddenly and you couldn’t help but realise it was on a low setting right now.

Your eyes fell down to Donghyuck’s hands who were hidden in the pockets with the live remote controller for the vibrator inside your panties like he said, you wore it today only to get absolutely punished in middle of your English class that’s starting. You were now filled with absolute contempt to focus but no matter what during class you could only focus on your thighs rubbing together to grab more friction. At the same time you didn’t want to do that because the more friction you will lose yourself and you need to be quiet.

It didn’t help that Donghyuck was behind you Whispering remarks only to piss you off. He was pretending to be innocent but you knew well what they meant in actual reality.

“You’re awfully quiet there y/n.” Sang Donghyuck from behind you tapping his pen at your back.

You flinch at the sudden change of his actions he usually would never do anything in class. He often avoids you in your classes with him finding you a complete nuisance but now he’s doing all he can to push you off the edge cliff you’re standing on but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You instead bury your head low and clench your eyes tight when suddenly the finger on the remote controller has increased the speed seeing you resist the low pressure; Donghyuck wasn’t going to let you go easy. He wanted to see you fall apart in front of him and beg him to do something about it.

The speed of the vibrator brushing your clit ever so slowly made you whimper into your hands the classmates around you swore they heard you but they weren’t sure who it came from. Donghyuck saw the people chatting amongst themselves and the teacher was silently marking the papers at the desk. It was quiet and it was starting to hit the dangerous territory where even the slightest sounds can be heard. You never wanted to move away so fast because the vibrator mixing into your wet soaking panties through your black skirt will be having you sweating like you are at a giant room becoming cooked alive. From inside your pussy lips were brushing at the folds of the vibrator where it felt like a whole new sensation and you bite your tongue when a moan was coming out.

You never felt so exposed. You’re squirming at your seat and you’re at everyone’s eyes who could see you slip out if you make any mistake. Donghyuck smirking watching you as his body was slanting back on the chair behind you with an innocent face he sped the next vibrator speed to maximum. But your body began to flinch and trying to run away from your high you felt your hips rut on the chair and the redness coming to your forehead and cheeks making it visible like you’re sick. You put your hand up suddenly standing up.

“Miss I need the toilet.” You loudly announce with a pant and the teacher looks at you. “Okay be quick with it.”

Donghyuck was laughing under his breathe watching you run out of the classroom like your life depended on it. He didn’t change the speed he left it on the maximum so you could suffer with it. The boy chuckling from afar made Jaemin turn around seeing his friend laugh a little for once, with a true smile of something he was addicted on.

‘Strange.’ Jaemin thought.

As you ran out you were inside a toilet stall taking off your panties down to the ankles and taking a seat on the toilet you let out a grasping moan rubbing your folks and the chasing your whole high; you play with your clit clenching your eyes the more pleasuring overstimulation hit your pussy. Your swollen clit was red and abused it made everything so much more sensitive and difficult that you were so quick to your own high. You made sure to keep your thoughts on being quiet but the further you went the deeper you got and you remembered it was Donghyuck doing this to you and somehow you were more aroused than before. You couldn’t help but get your feelings involved and now you’re here moaning his name softly in the girl’s bathroom where anyone could walk in on you. Fingering your tight and wet sloppy hole with your two fingers until you came hard.

You came so hard you couldn’t remember if it was two orgasm or a singular orgasm that felt like it would take forever to get over it. The vibrator eventually stopped and you could feel it turn off. You let out a sigh as your red face was visible when coming out the stall with your panties back on and the skirt lowered down. You’d wash your hands in the sink and then you washed your face to cool it down you couldn’t help but notice how fucked out you look. You can’t go in class like this.

You look away leaving the girl’s toilets and as you did your arm was pulled by a boy you noticed to be Donghyuck standing out the girl’s bathrooms with a low angle levelling your eyes so you could see him.

“Now that was a long toilet break, Y/n. Wonder what took you so long Hm?”

Your eyes drop down. “Donghyuck— how long were you standing there for…” you felt your eyebrows raise up and Donghyuck smirks coming closer.

“From the moment you left the class, and i heard everything.” He whispers.

You never wanted to be buried alive so much until now knowing he heard you moan his name and as well as do so much more, it’s like he’s only going to get more information off of you and use it against you some more. You cannot escape Lee Donghyuck.

You gulp as you saw the boy point at the remote in his front school trousers pockets. The brunette locks on his face made him so much more attractive you couldn’t help but had the urge to caress it and wrap your fingertips in them but you pulled yourself together the moment his stern honeymoon voice broke your thoughts away.

“Next class you can’t walk out to use the bathroom excuse understand? You need to stay in that classroom.”

‘Oh god I’m fucking screwed.’

Donghyuck walks away going back into class leaving you all alone standing in middle of the corridor outside the girl’s bathroom. You never felt so exposed until Donghyuck has the effect on making you feel all sorts of emotions like a rollercoaster on steroids. Somehow, you knew this was going to be a challenge.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The next class was mathematics which you were luckily okay with but currently with the situation of having a running vibrator pleasure you inside while focusing on numbers was not a good mixture at all. You never felt so tense and frustrated when doing maths unlike now and all thanks to Donghyuck making you feel high and then leaving you dry. Sometimes he let you feel high until you were wanting to scream in middle of your class but you covered your mouth often until he dropped it to a low speed again which you calm down.

Donghyuck knew what you wanted though. He knew what you fantasise about and it intrigued him because now he knows what you hate and what you love. It was like doing things absolute the worst things and you’d love them, because it’s him. You cannot make yourself feel the hatred and the pain to do that for something like this.

You tap your pen on the desk repeatedly as you felt your pussy clutch around the vibration and the shape of the vibrator making you want to lose yourself there and then. Your stomach was breathing in harshly enough to feel your ribcage and your throat was bleeding dry wanting to let so many noises escape. You couldn’t hear anything but your beating heart. Your fingers wrap round the pen clenching it as your thighs rub in circular motion together. The buzzing vibration made you fall into excitement of pleasure that you couldn’t compare to. The speed increased with each time the class went down off and you soon were holding the desk suddenly.

The teacher saw your sudden movements and eyes you suspiciously as you look down at the test paper clearing your throat.

‘Shitshit that was close.’ You mentally screamed, your thoughts were running back to how you’re literally being treated like a sex doll for Donghyuck’s sick pleasures but here you are having the same sick pleasures because this is turning you more and more.

The idea of getting caught was certainly a factor and he knew this he could see it on your body posture you loved being observed as you are getting off in class where a whole examination test is being done. You couldn’t focus on your paper though, because you were lost in your own mind with the way the vibrator was making you feel.

The next thing you knew you felt a wet gushing raindrops down your legs like they were your tears when in reality it was coming from your soaking panties lining down your body. Your thighs were covered with your pussy juice and you came without knowing for once you felt scared and you look back at Donghyuck with a terrified expression starting to beg him with your whimpers.

“Donghyuck please can i leave?” You whisper and he looks up from his math test paper smirking as he hears you finally beg.

This is what he wanted to hear from you, a pathetic beg because he’s the one in control and you’re the one who’s dealing with the consequences.

He was about to give you an answer until the teacher in front of you slams on your desk. “Y/n I expected better from you. Keep your eyes on your test paper until everyone is finished. Do not cheat off Donghyuck.”

You slowly turn around lowly avoiding eye contact but your face was red and feverish. You couldn’t help but feel light headed because the vibrator kept on digging into your sensitive core making you squirm more and more. The teacher walks back to the desk and Donghyuck’s laughter was heard behind you.

“Tut tut tut Y/n cheating.” He trails and you clench your fists together on your lap as you saw the water dripping down on the floor underneath your chair. You whimper once more.

Donghyuck saw you go silent whimpering and he raised his eyebrows as he saw your legs shaking on the floor and your hands were trembling now due to the overt stumbling pleasuring sensation surrounding your body putting it on your back and chest. Your face was swollen with your pleasure from your own pussy aching.

And then the class bell rang. You never got up so fast ready to run out to the toilet for the same reasoning however you were stopped by two arms engulfing you and dragging you into a pair of doors you couldn’t reach until the body pulling you with him dragged you into the boy’s changing rooms where it was empty leaving only you and a specifically someone called Lee Donghyuck. The lowlife you’ve been tortured by the entire door and for once you were glad to see his face as you go on your knees shaking as you let out sudden choking moans. The vibrator got faster with Donghyuck’s thumb putting it on the maximum speed amount you couldn’t put limit on.

“Fuck please— please please Donghyuck fuck me make it stop make this pain stop.” You held your breath putting your hands on the stomach that was aching for a release finally and the remote was turned off the vibrator no longer providing you with the pleasure because he got what he wanted.

You asking him to fuck you senselessly.

He’d grab your shoulders pushing you off the ground and into the changing room showers where he pinned you on the wall where you could both fit. Putting your mouth on his down kissing you roughly he grasps your hips rubbing them rougher than before and stressing down your clotheslines we’re stripped off your body so quickly you weren’t aware of it at all. You grasp between the heavy kisses, Donghyuck swore hearing you gasping for him was the sexiest thing he could ever hear anyone do. “God you’re so fucking lewd Y/n telling me to fuck you senseless in the school where anyone can walk in on us. You’d like that to happen won’t you?” He’d grab your face away as he pressed on the vibrator inside you pushing it out off your hole and instead you felt the hard tip of his body go in.

You never wanted to come back to reality ever again because this felt like a forsaken fantasy. You’re pushed on the tile wall bare naked with your enemy someone who’s been nothing but horrible to you now pushing his hard cock inside your sloppy wet hole that’s been waiting to be stretched by him for over four hours you couldn’t believe it; it felt like years ago when you were friends and now you’re being so mean together you couldn’t even imagine what you’re doing if you were sane in your head. The way your head snuck in and so did your stomach feeling him go up and imprinting his shape deep within you where you let out trembling stutters out. “Fuckfuckfuck hyuck—! You’re in my stomach.” You wanted to scream it out but Donghyuck made sure to take his fucking time with you.

“Hyuck huh? That’s a new one darling.” He couldn’t help but find it hard to dislike. Afterall you were fucked out when saying it. It made it ten times more better.

He wanted to make you know that this will become a daily thing where he will rock your shit and leave you alone right after. This wasn’t nothing sweet and mutual. You are living your fantasy and that’s it, you’re nothing but a ragged doll for him to use you and you were willingly.

“You’re a fucking slut Y/n. You want nothing but my cock to fill your hole and stuff you until you have no fucking purpose for me. Do you want that?” He growls against your face kissing down your cheeks with so much power over you, your skin shivers against those harsh breathing and his voice was so mean you could cry. In fact you wanted to knowing how he was completely right about you.

You murmur when Donghyuck squished you in a whole different position directing you towards a doggy stile where your hands put on the tile he rocked behind strutting the hits right into you going now deeper where the shape travels to your womb and you choke but clenching your eyes in the process. You never expected him to be so long and girthy, he was thick and all departments you were shaking and trembling in the middle of his body weight crushing you with how tough he was treating you. There was nothing single. Not a single moment where he spared you from his dangerous hold over you.

At the moment when he lost himself nearly he was so close to coming in you and you were here dripping in the shower with sweat and panting ramming inside your hole while your ass was perking up in the air for him to spank and grip. He squeezed your hips forward until your face was roughly rammed on the tile as you begin to wail out your moans. Your arms gave up on you and now your entire legs were tired from the excruciating exhaustion from being pleased for hours beforehand.

“That’s right cry for me you stupid whore. You’re crying because my dick feels so good aren’t you?” You wished you could disagree with him but you can’t. You sniff out croaking in broken sentences denting your voice. “It feels so good please please Hyuck I want you to come inside me.” His eyes darken going smaller hearing you and he pushed your head down on the tile smirking.

“Begging me to fill your little hole up yeah? Since you’re asking like a good whore you are, I will.” It absolutely irks your mind how he can sound so attractive but still be completely ruthless to you.

And he did exactly that leaving you down when he was done with you covering your walls full off his load and painting everything in you white. Donghyuck left you on the floor in the shower with his liquid coming out of your pussy down your thighs he smirks facing you as he was doing the zipper on the trousers and you dazed looking at him in the corner.

He whistles leaning down and crouching to your eye level seeing how you’re out of it still. You couldn’t focus on anything but him and the comforting silence of your beating heart.

“You still like a Lowlife like me?” He trails asking you with a deadly smile that knew you would say yes.

You should be hating him because god knows he’s terrible human being on the face of earth. He’s the biggest scum you could meet.

But you know you will always love a lowlife like Lee Donghyuck.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting my work thank youu!! Please reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out.

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