#look out for my ao3 collection - i have one of those now
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Whumptober 2023
Welcome to Whumptober 2023 — the sixth year running!
COMPLETIONISTS/PARTICIPANT BADGES CAN BE FOUND HERE
To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone joining this year, welcome!
Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.
This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.
And this years playlist can be found here.
There are 139 prompt options in total this year - this is including the alternatives list! A special thanks goes out to those who took part in our trope vote back in July. From the 1526 responses to our list of 223 tropes, we looked through the popularity results, as well as your honourable mentions, and were able to produce this years prompts list. Stay tuned, as we will be posting some of the results at a later date!
We’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!
Best of luck and happy whumping,
Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro
(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)
Whumptober 2023 Prompt List
No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”
Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”
No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”
Thermometer | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”
No. 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”
Journal | Solitary Confinement | “Make it stop.”
No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”
Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?”
No. 5: “You better pray I don't get up this time around.”
Debris | Pinned Down | “It's broken.”
No. 6: “Do or die, you’ll never make me; Because the world will never take my heart.”
Recording | Made to Watch | “It should have been me.”
No. 7: " “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”
Alleyway | Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”
No. 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”
Overcrowded ER | Outnumbered | “It’s all for nothing.”
No. 9: “Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days.”
Polaroid | Mistaken Identity | “You're a liar.”
No. 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”
Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you'd never leave.”
No. 11: “All the lights going dark and my hope’s destroyed.”
Animal trap | Captivity | “No one will find you.”
No. 12: “I haven't slept in days but who's counting?”
Red | Insomnia | “I’m up, I’m up.”
No. 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”
Cold Compress | Infection | “I don’t feel so good.”
No. 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.”
Flare | Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.”
No. 15: “I don't need you to help me I can handle things myself.”
Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”
No. 16: “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”
Gurney | Flatline | “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”
No. 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.”
Collar | Touch Aversion | “Leave me alone.”
No. 18: “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.”
Blindfold | Tortured For Information | “Hit them harder.”
No. 19: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”
Floral Bouquet | Psychological | “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”
No. 20: “People don’t change people, time does.”
Blanket | Found Family | “You will regret touching them.”
No. 21: “See the chains around my feet.”
Vows | Restraints | “Don't move.”
No. 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.”
Glass Shard | Vehicular Accident | “Watch out!”
No. 23: “It’s gonna get me by the end of the night.”
Shadows | Stalking | “Who’s there?”
No. 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”
Goodbye Note | Neglect | “I thought they were with you.”
No. 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.”
Storm | Buried Alive | “They’re not breathing!”
No. 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.”
Seeing Double | Working To Exhaustion | “You look awful.”
No. 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.”
Matches | Scars | “Let me see”
No. 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now.”
Bloody Knife | Sacrifice | “You'll have to go through me.”
No. 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.”
Scented Candle | Troubled Past Resurfacing | “What happened to me?”
No. 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.”
Borrowed Clothing | Bridal Carry | “Not much longer...”
No. 31: “I thought that I was getting better.”
Emptiness | Setbacks | “Take it easy.”
Alternatives List:
Betrayal
Aftermath of Failure
Brass Knuckles
Decoy
Body Modification
Playing Cards
Examination
Hunting
Drugging
Shaking
Panic
Broken
Miscommunication
Lab Rat
Reluctant Whumper
Event Info & Rules
~ Please read our extensive event info posts before sending us an ask ~
WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. The 'theme' of each day is the line of lyrics.
The prompts are merely to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is "flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be related to the 'spark' of a relationship. It's truly up to you!
In total, there are 4 prompts for each day: there's lyrics, an object, a trope and a line of dialogue to choose from. We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.
Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.
When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:
#whumptober2023 …..(the event tag)
#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(day number)
#lyric, #bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)
#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)
#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)
#teeth, #gore tw, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Add "tw" AFTER the trigger/content warning. )
#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)
#your own tags go here
PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]
Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.
Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed the event. You do not need to post anything you have created, we rely on trust and we will not check this.
Questions not addressed in one of our many event info posts can be directed to this blog. We will not answer any questions that have been answered in the FAQs or rules already.
Frequently Asked Questions
Q. How does this year’s prompt list work? What do I have to choose?
You can create something based on:
The overall theme/lyric of the day
Prompt 1, 2 or 3
One or several of the alternative prompts
A combination of the above
Q. Is [specific anything] allowed?
When in doubt: JUST DO IT!
Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?
Participate as much or little as you like! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.7, #radio silence). If you create works for 31 total theme days you will become a completionist. But apart from that, there are no repercussions if you don’t fill prompts for each day.
Q. Can I post early/late?
Yes, you can post whenever you want. We will only reblog posts during October, but you can use our prompts all year round. The day you post will only affect your probability of being reblogged.
Q. Will you reblog my post?
Due to the sheer number of content posted during Whumptober we can’t promise to reblog every single post. We will make a random selection trying to capture a wide variety of content. The following will increase your chances at being reblogged:
tag your post properly
post within 2-3 days of the theme you want to fill: if you fill the prompt for Day 1 your chances of being reblogged during October 1st to 3rd are highest and will go towards zero afterwards.
Q. What if I don’t understand a prompt/theme?
Send us an ask! We’re happy to help with wild, unhelpful clarifications or brainstorming. That being said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation. Don’t take them too literally. For example: You can be choking on a cherry, someone else can choke you or you could be choked up on emotions, etc.
Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?
This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gifset or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe.
Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?
Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.
Q. Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms?
Of course! You can post your own content wherever you like (or you can opt to not publish it at all). Additionally we’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. It can be accessed here. The tumblr blog @whumptober-archive is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle.
Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?
Yes.
Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?
If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the Whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If you’ve previously posted something that checks the boxes, we ask that you not include it retroactively for this current year. You can, however, add new chapters relating to one or more of the prompts.
Q. What kind of characters can I write for?
Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, RPF, whoever you like. You can use the generic “whumpee” character or have specific ones.
Q. Does it have to take place in a specific fandom?
No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want.
Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?
Yes, but it only counts once towards being a completionist.
Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day’s prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?
No, you can’t exchange prompts for different days. However, if all four prompts of a specific day make you uncomfortable, we have created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from. You can exchange any prompt with these, but please make sure not to use them twice.
Q. Where can I post my work?
Post where and how you want. You don’t have to (cross)post it to Tumblr or at all. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.
Q. Can I start posting early?
You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.
Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s?
Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.
Q. Is co-writing allowed?
Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you.
Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?
One continuous story is fine. The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)
Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?
There is no limit.
Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?
No limit and combine as many as you’d like.
Q. Is a hc/angst/emotional whump focus ok?
Of course! We are not going to establish a threshold for whumpiness. If you think it’s whumpy enough, then it’s whumpy enough. It can be physical, psychological, emotional, or any combination of the three.
Q. What’s considered nsfw?
See this post
Q. What is whump?
Typically the genre includes situations where a fictional character is hurt, be it emotionally, psychologically, or physically. Fanlore provides information here.
Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn’t whumpy at all, does that count?
If you don’t think your interpretation is whumpy, then it doesn’t count for Whumptober. Remember that whump comes in many forms, though, and that we don’t have a whump-checker or a threshold for how much whump needs to be included. If you think your interpretation contains enough whump to count, then it does.
Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?
Absolutely! That’s why we post the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start creating early!
Q. How do I tag triggers?
tw at the end of the word, ex. #gore tw
Q. Do I have to use your tags?
Yes, if you want your work archived on the blog. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want.
Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?
Yes
Q. Can we @ you?
Yes but we mostly rely on the #whumptober2023 tag.
Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?
There are no rules, but please make sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies for whatever site you use).
Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?
Here on Discord or come into our ask box.
Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?
Yes, but as with everything else, use clear and descriptive tags.
Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?
Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.
Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).
Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!
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Danny is an ao3 writer
Hear me out!
Y'know how there's a running joke that ao3 authors/writers will put in the author's notes that they're sorry that they took so long to update and their reason is because of either they got into a horrible accident/ life threatening health issue/serious personal issues/ their life went up in flames figuratively or literally, or somehow a combination of all of those scenarios. And they're all like "Well enjoy the chapter! tee-hee!" and everybody who's reading it all collectively go "are you okay?!" (aka the ao3 writers curse)
So I want to take this, and add Danny
Danny begins taking a liking to the classic literature that Mr. Lancer talks about during class and decides to writes a fanfic about it along those lines. It all starts for when he writes a Pride and Prejudice fic where Charlotte gets a better life where she's both happy and comfortable. And when he gets pretty supportive comments about it. He starts writing fics for other books as well (and it never stops)
During that time, who else but the Jane Austen fan, Jason Todd reads this fic. Yes he reads fanfic (do not ask him about his ao3 history), he yearns for more Jane Austen, but unfortunately she's not exactly able to write more books for him to read. So he turns to ao3 where there are some people who have incredible talent for writing pretty good regency era romance.
So what happens when he finds a couple of Pride and Prejudice stories written by " HalfDeadHalfAliveWriter
And when reading through the stories and looking at the author's notes.
All with very weird scenarios happening to the writer that he can't be sure that if it's a joke or if it's an actual thing he should be very worried about.
Author's notes such as:
Sorry it took so long for me to update this I was being shot at by my parents and ended up getting a burn on my hand and couldn't use my computer for awhile.
Sorry the chapter's so short, all the people in my town are being possessed by a hoard of angry ghosts because somebody had a bright idea to steal an artifact that belongs to an ancient civilization. So I had to get this out quick before they ruin my wifi connection
Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, I had to fight off a crazy guy that is obsessed with killing my father so he could marry my mother and become my new stepfather.
Sorry for the wait I got sent back to Ancient Egypt by my mentor to hunt down a runaway ghost that was messing with time.
But honestly the most recent author's note on a fic that hadn't been updated in week is what makes Jason really worried.
Sorry for not updating for a couple months guys, I was taken by a government agency that started vivisecting and torturing me. Thankfully my sister and friends busted me out and now I'm working on healing up. Anyway here's the Great Gatsby fic where Nick and Gatsby kiss.
After reading that author's note, Jason just sits there thinking only one thing.
What the fuck?
#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc au#dpxdc#dp x batman#Jason just sitting there not really knowing how to react to these authors notes#I imagine that Danny is completely chaotic when writing author's notes but completely professional when writing his fics#Imagine the downfall of the GIW starts with Danny writing fanfiction#that's something he'll never let anyone forget
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AO3 Ship Stats: Year In Bad Data
You may have seen this AO3 Year In Review.
It hasn’t crossed my tumblr dash but it sure is circulating on twitter with 3.5M views, 10K likes, 17K retweets and counting. Normally this would be great! I love data and charts and comparisons!
Except this data is GARBAGE and belongs in the TRASH.
I first noticed something fishy when I realized that Steve/Bucky – the 5th largest ship on AO3 by total fic count – wasn’t on this Top 100 list anywhere. I know Marvel’s popularity has fallen in recent years, but not that much. Especially considering some of the other ships that made it on the list. You mean to tell me a femslash HP ship (Mary MacDonald/Lily Potter) in which one half of the pairing was so minor I had to look up her name because she was only mentioned once in a single flashback scene beat fandom juggernaut Stucky? I call bullshit.
Now obviously jumping to conclusions based on gut instinct alone is horrible practice... but it is a good place to start. So let’s look at the actual numbers and discover why this entire dataset sits on a throne of lies.
Here are the results of filtering the Steve/Bucky tag for all works created between Jan 1, 2023 and Dec 31, 2023:
Not only would that place Steve/Bucky at #23 on this list, if the other counts are correct (hint: they're not), it’s also well above the 1520-new-work cutoff of the #100 spot. So how the fuck is it not on the list? Let’s check out the author’s FAQ to see if there’s some important factor we’re missing.
The first thing you’ll probably notice in the FAQ is that the data is being scraped from publicly available works. That means anything privated and only accessible to logged-in users isn’t counted. This is Sin #1. Already the data is inaccurate because we’re not actually counting all of the published fics, but the bots needed to do data collection on this scale can't easily scrape privated fics so I kinda get it. We’ll roll with this for now and see if it at least makes the numbers make more sense:
Nope. Logging out only reduced the total by a couple hundred. Even if one were to choose the most restrictive possible definition of "new works" and filter out all crossovers and incomplete fics, Steve/Bucky would still have a yearly total of 2,305. Yet the list claims their total is somewhere below 1,500? What the fuck is going on here?
Let’s look at another ship for comparison. This time one that’s very recent and popular enough to make it on the list so we have an actual reference value for comparison: Nick/Charlie (Heartstopper). According to the list, this ship sits at #34 this year with a total of 2630 new works. But what’s AO3 say?
Off by a hundred or so but the values are much closer at least!
If we dig further into the FAQ though we discover Sin #2 (and the most egregious): the counting method. The yearly fic counts are NOT determined by filtering for a certain time period, they’re determined by simply taking a snapshot of the total number of fics in a ship tag at the end of the year and subtracting the previous end-of-year total. For example, if you check a ship tag on Jan 1, 2023 and it has 10,000 fics and check it again on Jan 1, 2024 and it now has 12,000 fics, the difference (2,000) would be the number of "new works" on this chart.
At first glance this subtraction method might seem like a perfectly valid way to count fics, and it’s certainly the easiest way, but it can and did have major consequences to the point of making the entire dataset functionally meaningless. Why? If any older works are deleted or privated, every single one of those will be subtracted from the current year fic count. And to make the problem even worse, beginning at the end of last year there was a big scare about AI scraping fics from AO3, which caused hundreds, if not thousands, of users to lock down their fics or delete them.
The magnitude of this fuck up may not be immediately obvious so let’s look at an example to see how this works in practice.
Say we have two ships. Ship A is more than a decade old with a large fanbase. Ship B is only a couple years old but gaining traction. On Jan 1, 2023, Ship A had a catalog of 50,000 fics and ship B had 5,000. Both ships have 3,000 new works published in 2023. However, 4% of the older works in each fandom were either privated or deleted during that same time (this percentage is was just chosen to make the math easy but it’s close to reality).
Ship A: 50,000 x 4% = 2,000 removed works
Ship B: 5,000 x 4% = 200 removed works
Ship A: 3,000 - 2,000 = 1,000 "new" works
Ship B: 3,000 - 200 = 2,800 "new" works
This gives Ship A a net gain of 1,000 and Ship B a net gain of 2,800 despite both fandoms producing the exact same number of new works that year. And neither one of these reported counts are the actual new works count (3,000). THIS explains the drastic difference in ranking between a ship like Steve/Bucky and Nick/Charlie.
How is this a useful measure of anything? You can't draw any conclusions about the current size and popularity of a fandom based on this data.
With this system, not only is the reported "new works" count incorrect, the older, larger fandom will always be punished and it’s count disproportionately reduced simply for the sin of being an older, larger fandom. This example doesn’t even take into account that people are going to be way more likely to delete an old fic they're no longer proud of in a fandom they no longer care about than a fic that was just written, so the deletion percentage for the older fandom should theoretically be even larger in comparison.
And if that wasn't bad enough, the author of this "study" KNEW the data was tainted and chose to present it as meaningful anyway. You will only find this if you click through to the FAQ and read about the author’s methodology, something 99.99% of people will NOT do (and even those who do may not understand the true significance of this problem):
The author may try to argue their post states that the tags "which had the greatest gain in total public fanworks” are shown on the chart, which makes it not a lie, but a error on the viewer’s part in not interpreting their data correctly. This is bullshit. Their chart CLEARLY titles the fic count column “New Works” which it explicitly is NOT, by their own admission! It should be titled “Net Gain in Works” or something similar.
Even if it were correctly titled though, the general public would not understand the difference, would interpret the numbers as new works anyway (because net gain is functionally meaningless as we've just discovered), and would base conclusions on their incorrect assumptions. There’s no getting around that… other than doing the counts correctly in the first place. This would be a much larger task but I strongly believe you shouldn’t take on a project like this if you can’t do it right.
To sum up, just because someone put a lot of work into gathering data and making a nice color-coded chart, doesn’t mean the data is GOOD or VALUABLE.
#ao3#ao3 stats#psa#my words#fandom#I doubt anyone is even going to read this but I needed to get it out of my system and at least try to stop this from spreading#if you know me#you know I get Big Mad about misinformation#don't take anything at face value#do your own research
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Unleashed - Avengers!Bucky/Fem!Reader
✦ Pairing: Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader
✦ Word count: ~4,2k
✦ Rating: Explicit
✦ Warnings/tags: Sex pollen adjacent kinda, smut, a bit fluffy, one shot, possessive!Bucky, co-workers/friends to lovers, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, orgasm denial, dirty talk, praise, creampie, pet names (doll).
✦ Summary: During a mission, Bucky is exposed to something that removes his inhibitions and all he wants is you.
✦ Note: Previously posted on AO3 since I have basically no time or energy to write new stuff. It was titled You’re what I need before but I always hated that title so I decided to re-name it. Bucky is kind of an asshole in this, but it's just because he wants you! As always, reblogs, comments, and asks are very welcome ❤️
Masterlist | AO3
The worst part about watching from afar as a mission goes to shit is that you feel useless. Even as you dispatch medics for the team all you can do is tell them, "Help is on the way."
Captain America shouts orders that you hear through the comms. The wait feels endless until the crew of the quinjet declares that they have spotted the team and there's not much else for you to do but look at your monitors and wait for an update. When you get the call back that the team is secure you breathe a sigh of relief, but then the next message is to prepare the medical staff to receive multiple injuries and chemical exposure. You ask the crew to clarify, but they are too busy, so when you notify the medical center, they prepare a quarantine room.
Sometimes you wish you had a superpower and could be there with them instead of staring at your monitors and doing endless calculations on whatever the team needs. But then when they return they always compliment your work and tell you they don’t know how they managed without you. You try to remind yourself of those moments at times like this.
Once the quinjet is docked and everyone has been accounted for you push away from your desk and remove your headset, taking deep breaths and trying to calm your heart. A moment later a message pops up on your screen, probably because they couldn’t reach you through your comms.
[Bucky wants you to come down here]
Your heart does a little flip in your chest, making you scowl. He is your friend and probably injured, you have no idea why he would be asking for you, but it’s not because he feels the same way you do. You grab your tablet and head to the MedBay.
When you get down you take stock of the situation. Nat and Steve have some scratches, Sam's arm is broken and Wanda has a few cracked ribs. Tony is bruised, his suit had taken most of the damage. You look around for Bucky but don’t see him anywhere and quickly deduce that he must be the person currently in quarantine.
When you get to the wing, you’re almost too scared to go in, afraid to see what could have happened to him. Inside, you find a team of medical personnel discussing Bucky's condition with him through a glass wall. His hair looks damp and he's wearing standard-issue quarantine clothing, soft black pants, and a black sweatshirt. When he sees you standing patiently at the side he says.
"You can come back later. I need to talk to her more than I need to talk to you. Go away."
His voice comes from speakers in the ceiling.
You're shocked by his behavior but smile apologetically as the white coats pass you on their way out. When you get up to the glass you hiss.
"Bucky, what is wrong with you, don't be rude.”
"You make it sound like I'm never rude otherwise," he laughs.
"You're not rude to healthcare professionals, you know better."
You glare at him as you wake your tablet.
“Now what did you need me for?”
"Do you like me?" he asks. Your mouth falls open and your heart starts to beat faster. You’re happy your vitals aren’t monitored as you quickly collect yourself and try to deflect his question.
"Of course I like you Bucky, you're my friend."
But now it feels weird to look at him and you find a spot on the wall far behind him to focus on.
"What if I want more than friends?" is his next question and despite your best efforts, hope warms your chest. This is not happening. Of course you toyed with the idea of you and Bucky, he is always sweet to you, and if he has the chance he brings you gifts from the missions. But you’ve told yourself repeatedly that he needs someone stronger, who can keep up with him in the field and you’re not that person.
"Can we have this conversation when you are not high on some HYDRA drug?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from betraying you. They are monitoring everything in the room. And there is a sheet of unbreakable glass in between you both. If you're going to confess your feelings, it won't be like this.
"I'm not high," he huffs. "My mind has never been clearer."
"I still think we should have this conversation later."
"Doll, look at me."
The command in his voice is so strong you don’t think, you snap your eyes to his and they are so blue and soft.
"I will feel the same tomorrow, and the day after, whenever this drug wears off but now is the only time I can't hold my tongue," he explains.
You place your hand on the glass and he does the same on the other side.
"It will be fine Bucky, I promise," you say just as the door opens and Steve walks in, making you pull your hand back to your side. He's showered, in a fresh pair of clothes and he swings his arm over your shoulder.
"Stop hogging her time Bucky, I know for a fact that she also needs to debrief," he smiles but Bucky looks as if he's seeing red.
Through gritted teeth he presses out, "Get your fucking arm off her, punk. She's mine."
You and Steve burst into laughter because it has to be a joke, but then Bucky punches the barrier with his vibranium arm. The glass doesn't crack but both you and Steve stop short and step away in shock.
Steve removes his arm and says, "I'll meet you upstairs." Before quickly heading out.
You turn to Bucky and point at him, anger rising in your chest.
"What is wrong with you? Steve is your friend!"
"That is what it’s like in here every day,” he points to his head.
You're taken aback by his statement and his wide feral eyes. Clearly, whatever he was exposed to had messed with his head and he's not himself.
“Bucky I need to go,” you tell him, and before he can protest you continue. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You smile feebly at him and are out the door before he can say anything else.
After debriefing and having dinner you go to bed early. Your head is spinning with the day and most of all, Bucky.
It's way past midnight when you wake to the soft closing of your door. Since you always sleep with a night light the soft warm glow reflects off his left arm and leaves no doubt about who has entered your room. You blink at him but before you can ask a question he rasps out, pleading.
"I need you. So bad. Please doll, help me."
He moves closer to your bed.
You quickly remove your covers and get up, glad the giant t-shirt covers you to your thighs, ready to spring into action.
"Anything Bucky, what do you need?"
You stop an arm's length from him, but all he does is reach his hand out to cup your face, letting his thumb stroke your cheek. There is a wild look in his eyes but you keep calm.
"I can't get you what you need if you don't tell me," you whisper, meeting his eyes and watching as his brow furrows.
"I need you. Right now. If I don't get to touch and taste every inch of your body I'm going to lose my mind," he confesses in a low voice.
His words shock you and you hitch a breath. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. You have this great friendship. If things were different you would not have minded taking it to another level, but with the day in mind and the fact that he somehow got out of his containment room you say, "Bucky, you’re not yourself, you need to get back to-”
"Doll,” he interrupts with a hard voice. “For once, I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. The only thing the drug did, I think, was remove my inhibitions. For once I feel free. My mind isn't controlled by HYDRA or by fear that you'll reject me. All I know is that I crave you and I can't be quiet about it anymore.”
"Bucky… I…" your whole body is flushed with warmth from his words and you're not sure how to respond.
"I dreamt about you and couldn't stop myself from going over here. I don't want to hurt you, doll, but I'm not sure this drug will let me leave. All I wanna do is move closer to you.”
You swallow hard as he continues, thumb still stroking your cheek.
“Ask FRIDAY to get Steve, or the Hulk if you want me to leave."
Instead, you step into him, making up your mind in an instant and resting your hands on his chest.
"Stay, I'll be glad to help you with anything you need," you whisper honestly and by the way his eyes widen there was still some doubt in his mind that you would reject him.
Instead of saying anything his vibranium hand grasps your waist and pulls you closer. There is no escaping the smell and size of him and his hands on you got your pussy throbbing for him already.
"I hope you understand what you've agreed to," he whispers, leaning closer. "Once I have you I won't stop, you'll never be rid of me. I'll claim you against every surface of this fucking compound if I need to."
That makes you whimper and press harder against him.
"Fuck you'd like that huh? Are you a kinky little thing? Like getting fucked where people can see you and hear you moan, do you want people to see my hard dick spread you open?"
"Fuck Bucky!" You exclaim and lean your forehead against his chest. Maybe that idea excites you or maybe it is just that the word ‘claim’ sounds so primal.
"You're going to tell me all your little secrets later, doll. But now, I'm going to take what's mine."
And with that, he crushes his lips to yours. He backs you towards the bed, kissing you the whole time, letting his hands explore you.
When you land on your back, he stands over you with eyes like a predator about to devour its prey.
You shuffle up until your head rests on the pillows, spreading your legs for him. Without taking off any clothes he crawls after you, settling on his knees between your legs and placing his hands on the headboard, crowding you with his large frame.
"Mine," he whispers and it makes a shudder pass through you. He ruts his clothed cock against your core, slicking your underwear even more and making you whine, gripping the sheets under you.
"Yes," he almost hisses as the length of his dick presses on your clit and forces a mewl out of you. It's been a long time since you've gotten laid.
"Bucky," you plead.
"No doll, I'm going to enjoy every fucking second of claiming you, from the outside in. Did you think this would be hard and fast and that I would be gone before you knew what happened?"
He lets go of the headboard to put his elbows beside your head instead, his weight on you, pressing you down into the mattress.
"When I leave you will long for me, spend every waking second wishing I was still inside you. I want your cunt to be permanently drenched so I can fuck you whenever I please."
He kisses you forcefully and any coherent thought that was left in your head flees.
"And when you're too sore to take more of my dick in your pussy I'm going to do the same thing to your mouth and ass."
He rids you off your t-shirt and instead of having to move from between your legs to pull off your underwear, he rips them apart.
"Ah!" you exclaim when the force of his movements jolts you but he takes no notice, he just stares at you, letting his hands roam up and down your sides, up to your tits, cupping them and caressing your nipples with his thumbs.
Whimpers are coming from you with every pass of this touch. Then he moves down and lays on his stomach, not saying a word as he sweeps his tongue over your pussy before he starts devouring you with a throaty moan.
It doesn’t take long for the first orgasm to take you, his movements are precise and his words and actions have made you hornier than you’ve ever experienced. Or maybe it's because he is the hottest person you’ve ever laid eyes on and he only wants you.
When you’re finished and sensitive he dips his tongue into your hole to taste you and groans loudly, lapping up the wetness from your orgasm.
"Better than I've dreamed of," he says when he pulls away.
Now you’re the one that must be high because you can't help but giggle.
"You seriously dream of me?"
"All the time, doll. Every night when I go to bed I wish you were with me and then you plague my sleep with your soft curves and radiant smile."
You're about to tell him how his laugh makes you warm and fuzzy on the inside but at that moment he sucks your clit into his mouth, cutting out every thought in your brain. He's gentle but not hesitant, it's as if he's feeling you out and when you make a particularly loud sound he continues the same movement, making your whole body go hot.
The second orgasm is intense enough to send aftershocks through for a long while afterward. Bucky lays his head on your thigh as you tremble, caressing your skin and letting the fingers of his right hand skim over your opening.
Despite what he's already given you, you still crave more. His fingertips never come close to where you need them and when you whine at the back of your throat Bucky smiles up at you.
"Don't worry, I'm not even close to done with you, but I don't want you to pass out on me.”
One of his fingers glides inside, making you take a sharp breath just because it feels so good. Once again he is careful, moving slowly, listening to your breath and your body.
"Please Bucky, I need more.”
"No need to beg, I'll give you everything you want… in time," he breathes and kisses the skin on the inside of your thigh. Slowly he moves his finger in and out. You're sure it's a form of torture. The sweetest kind there is. Your breathing is labored and when he finally adds a second, you start to quiver.
He nips at your skin and then kisses it before speaking.
"You look like a goddess, doll, eyes filled with lust, your skin is gleaming. I'm going to worship you until you're tired of me.”
"Never gonna happen," you whimper. Then his thumb lands on your clit, making you cry out. Everything is so sensitive and overstimulated.
"I don't- Bucky, I don't think I can again," you tell him even though his touches are causing your insides to melt.
"Yes, you will," his voice is soft but the command is clear. So instead of trying to speak again, you sink further into the madness that is him playing with you. The third one takes its sweet time but you never feel rushed or stressed that it's taking too long. Bucky isn’t in a hurry.
Then it’s suddenly there, crashing through you.
"Fuck Bucky, fuck you're gonna make me come."
"So good for me, let me feel you come on my fingers," he urges. "I'm going to lick them clean afterward so make sure you get them nice and wet for me. I want as much as you'll give me."
The climax reaches its peak and you come with a cry of his name, body convulsing and your hand shooting down to tangle in his hair.
"Just like that doll," he smiles up at you and holds your gaze when he pulls out his fingers and sucks them clean, moaning while he does. It's a filthy sound, but it turns you on as if he didn't just make you come for the third time. Then he dives in between your legs again, licking at your skin and your soaked hole.
Letting go of his hair all you can do is just lie there, writhing, as he somehow coaxes a fourth orgasm out of you.
“Fuck me,” you plead when he pulls back. “I need you inside me Bucky.”
This time he takes pity on you and moves away to take off his clothes. When he’s naked he kneels between your legs again and you spread them as wide as you can.
"Want me, doll?" he asks with a smirk.
He swipes his cock through your mess and then uses his hand to coat himself with you.
"Yes," is all you can say. Both you and Bucky stare as he pushes his dick into you, filling you up completely. Of course, he takes it torturously slow this time too.
"This feels better than any dream I've ever had," he whispers almost in awe. You grip his biceps and arch into him, pushing him deeper, faster. That makes him tsk but smiles at the same time as he pushes the rest of the way, finally seating himself. Without giving you a chance to relax he starts fucking you, his cock pushes perfectly against your insides, pulling sounds from you that you haven't made in years.
He sits back on his heels lifting your ass effortlessly until your weight is resting on your shoulders and neck. It's like he is in a trance, pulling you onto his cock over and over again. Your body is his, your mind has fled, and all you see and feel is just him all around you. His eyes keep changing between his dick filling your cunt, your bouncing tits, and your half-lit eyes as if he is not sure where to look.
"Mine," he rasps and thrusts hard to empathize the word. "All mine. Say it."
It takes some time for your brain to connect to your mouth and form the words but his gaze never leaves you.
"Yours," you whimper. "I'm yours, Bucky."
There is a familiar heat low in your belly that's steadily spreading through your limbs. It makes you wiggle and move because it's overwhelming. He is overwhelming in the best sense.
Whining you reach down to rub yourself but he slaps your hand away.
"I thought I told you, it's mine. I own this cunt. If you wanna touch yourself you have to ask permission." It's as close to a growl as is humanly possible and you don't understand how he can be so cognizant right now, because your brain is like putty.
"Can I please rub my clit Bucky, I wanna come on your cock so bad," you cry.
"Good girl," he praises, and when he calls you that, your mouth falls open with a keening sound, gripping the sheets even harder, pulling at them because you want to come so bad.
"Do it, show me how you get off when you're alone in bed without me."
Everything is slippery and sensitive when you start with your fingers and you immediately know it's going to go fast. With his previous words in mind, you ask.
"Can I come?"
He meets your eyes with a wicked smile.
"Fast learner. Yeah, you can come… when I tell you."
You rip your hand away, afraid you might fall over the edge at any second. The sound out of your throat is almost a sob.
"Don't be like that, doll, I thought you said you couldn't do it more times?"
"I can-I can! As many times as you want just please let me come."
"Fuck, I like it when you beg with my cock in you."
But he doesn't say anything else, just continues fucking you. He's not even winded while you're straining your entire body. Your hand wants to move back, anything to relieve the pressure inside you but Bucky was very clear and you don’t want to disobey him.
Then he pulls out and drops you onto the bed, but you don't get to relax because he flips you onto your stomach and pushes one of your knees up to the side before he presses in.
His dick hits your G-spot dead on and you scream into the pillow under you. Bucky chuckles right by your ear.
"Guess I found it."
He's merciless, his hips hit your ass hard and if it weren't for his weight pressing you down you would soon hit the headboard.
"Bucky!" you wail because it's too much. You're losing the last pieces of your mind to the sheer force of the pleasure and you're scared you're never going to be able to come back to yourself. Then his hand presses in between you and the mattress.
"Rub yourself on my fingers, make yourself cum. Fuck my cock and come all over me doll."
You brace yourself as best you can and move your hips as he keeps almost completely still, just shallow thrusts in stark comparison to what he was doing to you just moments ago.
His fingers slide along your clit, his cock brushing your G-spot over and over again. You're breathless, sweat breaking out along your skin, but the climax you're chasing will be well worth it. You just know it.
"I can't fill you up until I’ve felt you come around me," he grunts, his voice tight with holding back. You whimper, the feeling of fire flushing your whole body, and building up to an eruption like no other.
"Yes, yes, yes," he chants low in your ear.
"That's it, come for me, make me proud. Fuck it feels so good." And he starts moving again "I'm going to fill you fucking full of my cum. That's it!"
The heat in you breaks and you come with a shout of his name, shaking under him. It gets even more intense when Bucky finishes right behind you, groaning your name. He collapses on top of you but his hips are still moving, slowly, as if he doesn’t want it to ever end. Neither would you but your body is wrecked.
When he finally rolls off, you're so close to falling asleep, but he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom.
"Pee." He points and you want to tell him that you know the drill, this isn't your first time, but all that comes out is a grumble before he closes the door behind him and you sit down on the toilet.
When you're done, you stumble out and have a moment of panic, thinking he left. But then the door opens and Bucky returns with two bottles of water, handing you one before leading you to the bed and sitting you down on the edge. Gratefully you drink and lean against his shoulder before asking.
"How do you feel?"
"Better than I have in a long time," he answers, kissing your forehead.
You chuckle.
"Yeah I have a magical pussy, it can cure anything," you joke and it makes him laugh.
"You should get back to quarantine," you comment. "Before anyone notices."
He shakes his head. "No I'm staying here, I'm never leaving you again."
He takes the bottle from your hand and places it on the bedside table together with his own. Then he crawls beneath the sheets and you go after him, letting him envelop you in a tight embrace before you fall asleep.
Alarms blare and you wake with a start.
"FRIDAY what's going on?" you ask out into the room.
“Sergeant Barnes has escaped his confinement.” The voice echoes through the room.
You sigh and glare at Bucky grumbling beside you, like the loud signal is just a regular alarm clock.
"FRIDAY please inform the team that Bucky is here and everything is fine."
A second later the sound dies and with a sigh you get up to pull on yesterday's discarded t-shirt and find a pair of pants. Right when you're done there is a knock on the door and Steve asks, "Everything okay in there?"
You open the door enough to show yourself.
"We're fine, he broke out during the night and came here."
"Oh," Steve says and there is a hint of blush on his cheeks.
Then you feel a presence behind you and Bucky’s arm goes around your waist.
"Mine," he says and you can't see him but he's probably glaring daggers at Steve who backs away.
"We'll be okay, I'll alert FRIDAY if I need help," you tell Steve.
When you close the door Bucky turns you before pushing you up against it and kissing you hard.
"Mine," he mumbles against your lips.
"Fucking caveman," you tell him. He grabs you around the waist and throws you over his shoulder. "I'll show you caveman," he says and carries you to the bed
#veltana writes#bucky barnes#avengers!bucky barnes#bucky smut#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#posessive!bucky barnes#possessive!bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#possessive!bucky#posessive!bucky x reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky fic#bucky fanfic
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pretty little wife | crazy 4 u
joel miller x f!reader one shot collection
series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨
summary: valentine's day special! joel has historically made sure that valentine's day is special for his pretty little wife, but this year he's gone above and beyond.
warnings: 18+ MDNI! no apocalypse au, pre-established relationship/dynamic, sub/dom relationship, soft dom! joel, free use kink, orgasm denial if you squint hard, unprotected piv, rough sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), nipple play, choking/breath play, pet names for reader, praise kink, romantic as fuck husband joel this chapter, some domestic fluff, alcohol consumption, maybe maybe maybe there is a breeding kink moment, reader has hair that can be pulled
a/n: they're so in love it makes me SICK!!! thank you so much for reading and loving this couple along with me, and happy galentine's and valentine's day my loves! 💋💗💌
reminder i have no taglist anymore, follow @beardedjoel-updates to hear about my new fics!
You quietly squeal to yourself as you start to tear open the newly delivered package on your way back inside from the mailbox. You look down at the assortment of pale pastel candies, all strung up on thin strands, waiting to be devoured. Your own curiosity and lack of self control nearly has you reaching in the box to break one off for yourself, but you hold back, reminding yourself just who you bought this for and why.
Valentine’s Day is in two days, but you’d wanted to get a jump, giving Joel a more playful vibe today considering you know he’ll have gotten you something sexy and downright depraved to wear on the actual holiday. Your skin tingles at the thought, recalling all of the things he’d had you wear in the past. Your most memorable being crotchless panties under a skin tight dress at dinner one Valentine’s Day, so he could finger fuck you under the table at one of Austin’s finest restaurants. Keeping your face straight during that had been painstaking, but you’d loved every minute of the debauched public display. When you’d asked Joel why he hadn’t just had you go sans underwear that night, he’d smiled devilishly. ‘Adds to the forbidden factor, don’t y’think?,’ Joel had replied, ‘So premeditated I had to get my baby somethin’ to weep onto while I knew I’d be shoving my fingers so deep in her pretty pussy.’ Those naughty words from Joel still send a shudder up your spine to this day as they ring in your mind. He hadn’t even waited until you two were home that evening to use that same hole in the panties to fuck you dizzy, until you’d screamed in the back seat of his car for him. Even then, he hadn’t relented until you came too many times to even remember the count now, leaving his seats a soaking mess.
You sigh, bringing yourself back to the present, brushing the memories away for now to get yourself ready to make some new ones with your husband. Once you’ve changed, you take a quick moment to admire the scant pieces of lingerie, almost laughing at the absurdity, but wondering how in all these years you’d never thought to buy candy underwear for Joel to devour off of you. You preen yourself for a few more quick moments before heading downstairs, wanting to set yourself up to act casual for Joel when he arrives home. Sometimes you do this on purpose, knowing he gets off on interrupting what you’re doing just so he can take you, fuck you however he pleases. And even when you really are in the middle of something, you get off on it too - being of service to your husband, helping him feel good while knowing you’ll be well taken care of, too.
On the dot at 5:00, you hear Joel’s car pulling up and smile smugly to yourself, continuing to wipe the counters down. A prompt pop of your hips to push your ass out follows when you hear the front door open and close.
“Doll? Where are ya?” Joel calls out, voice slightly muffled as he bends down to put his shoes away.
“In here!” you call out, voice high and sugary sweet, imitating the lingerie plastered to your body right now.
“How’s my pr-” Joel starts, freezing the moment he enters the kitchen. He takes in the sight - you slightly bent over, only a tiny string between your bare ass cheeks, pink high heels, and straps of candy running over your shoulders and across your back. You whip your head over your shoulder, rotating your body just enough to give Joel a peek at the lines of candy also covering your tits. He laughs, head thrown back in playful amusement before stepping towards you, predatory and slow, his laugh fading into a contemplative smirk.
“What do we got here?” Joel says quietly, hands immediately pressed tightly to your hips, his body pushing you forward into the counter. You whimper when the edge of the counter starts to dig into your stomach, Joel’s massive form locking you into your spot. “A little snack f’me to enjoy after workin’ so hard all day?” Joel can barely contain himself, blood running hot as he contemplates how grateful he feels right now.
“Mmhmm…” you whine out, already feeling any semblance of tension leaving your body at Joel’s gentle but calloused touch, this feeling of home. You giggle when Joel leans down to where the straps come around over your shoulders and takes a bite out of the candies, a little groan leaving him as his lips also catch on your skin, mixing the taste of you with the sweetness of the candy.
“Delicious, baby,” he hums in your ear, then goes on to kiss your earlobe. You melt, head falling back slightly with a docile smile plastered on your lips. “How’d a man get so lucky?” He takes another bite, kissing along your shoulder as he does so.
“Thought we’d get a jump on Valentine’s Day, darling,” you coo back, turning your head to kiss his cheek.
Joel freezes, his eyes going wide and body rigid. “Fu-” he murmurs to himself, lips still practically attached to your shoulder.
“What?”
He tears himself off of you with the most disgruntled groan you may have heard from him yet. “Baby, we gotta get movin’. You… fuckin’ little candy underwear, god damn it…” he starts muttering, grabbing you tightly and spinning you around. He grasps your hand in his and starts leading you upstairs. “You gotta change, honey, we’re…” he trails off, looking guilty and a bit flustered.
“Joel, what the hell is going on?” you ask, stopping and pulling back on his hand.
Joel sighs, calming himself for a moment before finally meeting your eyeline again. His gaze softens and he smiles. “Had a whole thing planned, darlin’. A surprise. C’mon and see for yourself.”
You trail after him, suddenly feeling ridiculous in your candy underwear given the change in mood. He takes you into the bedroom, opening his closet and yanking out your suitcase. Your brows furrow as you watch him pull it to the center of the bedroom, then going back for another suitcase of his own. Your mouth drops open slightly before curling into a smile, realizing that Joel had planned a trip for the two of you. He’d mentioned to keep your schedule free around Valentine’s Day, but you’d figured it was just typical plans - dinner, a picnic, or a fancy hotel room, nothing this big.
“Joel… baby…” you breathe out, clutching a hand to your chest. You feel suddenly filled with warmth, like sunshine has started filling you from the belly outwards, making your entire being feel light and tingly. Effervescence. That’s what being with Joel is like.
He gives you a lopsided smile. “We’re leavin’ tonight. Planned it all, flight is at eight so we can wake up there ‘n get a jump on everythin’. An’ then you had to wear that,” he huffs, gesturing to your entire body with a wild movement of his hand. “An’ scramble my brain right up.” His eyes linger along your entire midsection, sincerely considering throwing these plans away just to sate his hard cock, but he shakes his head and looks you in the eyes again.
“A jump on…. what’s everything?” you ask, placing an impatient hand on your hip.
Joel reaches into the built-in shelves in his closet, pulling out a soft, cashmere lounge set and walking it over to you. “Jus’ get dressed an’ I’ll explain as we go. God damn it, this was s’posed to be so much more romantic.” He sighs, a hand repeatedly running through his hair during your entire conversation, looking flustered.
“Aw, honey, it is, promise,” you assure him with a kind laugh, starting to peel off the candy underwear, bringing it over to your dresser to deposit it for another time.
“Mm-mm,” Joel chants with a smirk, squatting down to unzip your suitcase and holding out his palm to you. “Those are comin’ with us.”
You’re over 31,000 feet in the air now, the sky dark outside the plane windows as you peer out. Joel had planned an entire long weekend to head to Aspen, where he’d booked you both skiing lessons and a cozy, romantic room at a lodge there. Your heart swelled as he explained it all on the ride to the airport, remembering how it was on your bucket list to learn to ski, but being from Texas there hadn’t been too many chances to learn locally.
You stretch your legs out, admiring the leg room in the first class tickets Joel had gotten you two, bringing the complimentary glass of champagne to your lips.
“Baby, this is too much,” you say with a slight frown, despite feeling overjoyed at everything about your current situation.
“Never. I’ve been plannin’ and savin’ for this for a while. Wanted to surprise you big time,” Joel says with a toothy, proud grin.
“Well, you did. Makes my candy underwear feel kind of… well, wimpy in comparison.”
Joel’s pointer finger flies to your lips, pressing down before your glass can reach your mouth again. “Not a chance, little doll. That’s all I need from you - skimpy little outfit to keep your husband happy.”
Your lips curl into a sly smirk and you part your lips, nipping the end of Joel’s fingers. He shoots a brow up, challenging you, but you back down. You and Joel don’t always have the most public decency, but you decide it’s not worth getting kicked off the plane just for an orgasm you could wait a few more hours for. You nearly roll your eyes at the thought though, your cunt aching from the unresolved moment you two had shared in the kitchen earlier. You can tell by his wide pupils and rosy cheeks that Joel must be feeling a lot of the same way and having the same conflictions.
“If we wait a few hours… it’ll be even better…” you lean over and whisper to him, voice betraying you as it escapes in a breathy, sultry tone.
“Plane never stopped us before…” Joel says, brows raised again.
You tut, but then smile at the memory of your one sexual adventure on a plane with Joel, when you two were on your way to your honeymoon. A discreet handjob and fingering in first class under blankets hadn’t been the most romantic start to your married life together, but it suited the both of you. “Aaand…” you trail off, placing your palm on his chest. “We almost got caught like five times, big guy. Promised ourselves we wouldn’t do that again.”
Joel grumbles quickly, and you know he understands, but you feel an anxious twinge in your stomach, like you’re breaking the rules. Your face falls a little and you turn towards him, more serious this time. “I know we have… an arrangement, and you know I love our arrangement.” Joel gets what he wants, whenever he wants - the words agreed upon by the both of you within your marriage, and you were all for it. “But just this time I think we shouldn’t break the law for it.” You raise your brows, stomach turning again as you wait for his reaction - Joel is always understanding and patient with you but as usual, you find yourself desperate to please him.
Joel bites the inside of his cheek, then he leans over to plant a peck on your cheek while he reaches down to squeeze your hand in reassurance. “No, baby, you’re right. Probably should be an exception ‘bout planes in there, huh?” He tilts his head playfully and you feel your tension dissipate immediately. “Always the rational one, ain’t you, honey.”
“Barely,” you tease, chuckling in relief. “I just don’t want to ruin the trip before it’s even started. Let’s just watch a movie or something?”
Several hours of keeping yourselves occupied and dozing off had you finally arriving in Aspen, where Joel gently nudged you awake as the plane landed. You rubbed your bleary eyes and made your way through the plane and airport half-awake, just letting Joel guide you with one of your hands gently grasping at his sleeve the entire time. You two get outside the airport with your suitcases, now bundled up in an adorable puffer jacket Joel had packed for you, along with a new pair of fuzzy earmuffs. You were starting to have a sneaking suspicion that there was a lot of new clothing in your suitcase.
Standing next to an impeccably shiny black car is a well dressed driver holding a tiny sign that makes you do a double take.
Mr. & Mrs. Joel Miller.
You tug on Joel’s sleeve with eager excitement as he starts towards the man and your mouth hangs open.
“Joel, you did not hire a fancy driver,” you scoff quietly in disbelief. Joel stops in his tracks, screeching the two of you to a halt before turning to face you.
“If you’re already questioning me at the airplane seats ‘n the driver, it’s gonna be a long few days, honey,” he says sweetly, his voice crackling and gruff with tiredness from the long day. Your open mouth turns to a smile while you tut and shake your head.
“You’re too much, Joel Miller…” you muse, following him to the car. The driver, Randy, takes your bags and stuffs them in the car, offering you an open car door to climb inside. Your stomach flips with butterflies, not having realized just how romantic of a weekend Joel had planned for you. You fight off a quick mist of tears as it pops up, trying not to get emotional at just how overwhelmingly thoughtful your husband could be sometimes.
When Joel sits next to you, you clasp onto his hand tightly, giving him a watery smile that he returns with a sympathetic one of his own, reading that you’re feeling overwhelmed. Sure, since Joel had become more and more successful in his business you’d been treated beyond your wildest dreams, but sometimes it all hit you hard in one big moment like right now, filling you with gut clenching gratitude for your life. Life with Joel oftentimes feels like a dream, something you’ve stumbled into somehow that you aren’t sure you deserve. Joel would never let those thoughts slide, always reminding you how lucky he feels to have met you in that bar, that fate intervened so spectacularly in his life.
You lean your head on his shoulder for the duration of the ride to your accommodation, feeling sick with nostalgia and gratitude as you get lost in your thoughts. When the lodge comes into view, you pick your head up, mind suddenly empty as your jaw drops while you take it in.
It’s dark out, the sky black against the warm, glowing lights peeking through window panes throughout the lodge. A mountainous backdrop is still visible despite the dark night, and you can’t help but ogle at everything, imagining how stunning it will look in the daylight. The lodge is huge, ornate despite the fact that it’s meant to look simplistic and cozy with its wood siding. Joel marvels quickly at the construction out of habit, being in the business he’s in gives him a certain preclusion to commenting his two cents on every place you stay. You’re stunned silent as the back door is opened by Randy and you step out underneath a large overhang, greeted by yet another person who offers to take your bags. It’s all fuzzy, your brain tired and overwhelmed by what you’re taking in right now, the fact that just hours ago you’d been at home, content to just stay in with your husband tonight. You blink back to reality, about to speak when Joel gets to it first.
“Please. Thank you kindly,” Joel drawls, quickly slipping them a bill from his wallet and then turning back to you, offering you his arm. You take it, practically ready to squeal loudly with excitement as you two enter the building. You admire the expansive lobby while Joel steps away to check in - high ceilings and wood beams, roaring fireplaces surrounded by cozy seating and tall, full but neatly arranged bookshelves. A winter dream if there ever was one.
You’re gazing around, tired, slow blinking eyes, too lost in it all to notice Joel come up next to you, his hand finding the small of your back. He leans close, lips and rough beard brushing your ear with a soft kiss.
“Room’s ready,” he practically growls, and your gut clenches at his tone, your thighs pressing together. Suddenly, your body feels alight, nerves buzzing and goosebumps peppering your flesh. Sleep is a far away notion now, recalling the way you’d begun this evening, only to have it go unfinished for the both of you. You smile, soft and docile like your husband likes, your voice a dulcet song so close to his ears.
“Lead the way.”
Your ass stings red hot from another harsh slap laid against it. Joel’s hungry mouth devouring you, your hat and coat discarded on the floor right next to the door to your room. Hair tangled from the way Joel is hanging on to it for dear life as he pounds into you. Your only view is the cream colored walls, your face pressed up against the cool, smooth surface as Joel’s body pins you there. The door had no sooner shut than Joel had thrown you here, as much clothing ripped off as he could stand before his cock was inside of you. You’d cried out, whimpered at the sudden heavenly intrusion despite your pussy needing a moment to adjust. Joel had pushed through it, anyways, delivering the first spank of the night on your ass, pants and underwear hastily pulled down, halfway down your legs - enough room for Joel to slip his cock in was good enough for now, he’d thought hastily. The pain had melded into pleasure, your cunt squeezing his cock and starting to weep, easing Joel’s firm thrusts into you.
“F-fuck…” you whine against the wall, lips hanging open as his cock hits deep, your g-spot crying out already from all the stimulation he’s giving it. He’s not going easy on you, and you’d already known he wouldn’t the second he got you alone. All those hours, the silent teasing going on in both of your heads as you’d waited for this moment.
“Takin’ my cock like such a good girl… my obedient little wife,” Joel grunts out next to your ear, his teeth scraping your earlobes, sliding to your pulse point. You shudder, your hips spasming down onto him as pleasure starts to rock your body. You’re close… so fucking close to that perfect paradise only Joel knows how to get you to. “I’d’ve fucked you right in that lobby, right in that car or that god damned plane. Want everyone to see what I do to my pretty wife, what I’ve got right here… fuckin’ mess only for me,” Joel murmurs, rambling on as he grunts over and over, giving you everything he’s got. His hands tilt your hips, holding tightly while he anchors you there. And he’s right, you are a mess. Dripping slick, coating your thighs, disheveled hair and makeup now from the pleasured tears rolling down your cheeks, wet, squelching sounds filling the hotel room that you haven’t even had a chance to see yet as your face is turned towards the corner near the doorway. It must be a sight, indeed.
“Y-yeah? Wanna s-show me off…?” you breathe out, voice trembling as much as your body is starting to. Your knees are jelly, shaking and barely able to hold you up when Joel delves deep, hitting that spongy part inside of you again, making your eyes roll back. Of course he does, you know he does - nothing brings Joel more joy than letting the world know exactly what he has.
“Fuckin’ know I do… all lookin’ at this tight little cunt takin’ my fat cock, my pretty pussy, all mine.” Joel’s body presses closer, and you’re trapped even more, the both of you damp with sweat and almost incoherent as you near your highs.
“B-baby… I’m -” you whine out, “Please…”
Joel has waited as long as he could, knowing what you need. He’d wanted you desperate for it, so close, your climax just within reach, before he took you over the edge. His hand on your hip curves forward, finding your clit, and you moan loudly at the contact on the sensitive nerves. Your body moves of its own accord, bouncing back into his thrusts wildly, barely noticing that Joel’s other hand has left your hip until it connects with your neck, hand wrapping around your throat. You gasp, the noise cut off into a small choke while Joel’s hand tightens and you croak out a moan.
“Oh my g-god… please…” you whimper again in a strained voice, hoping, no, begging for permission from him. He plays with you a little longer, feeling his cock harden beyond what he’d think possible, aching even inside of you for more, as he toys with you, making you wait. His hand squeezes your neck once more, a little harder, keeping the pressure on. You’re feral, your body screaming at you but you concentrate, holding back, your mind doing gymnastics to try to deny what your body wants so badly.
“Come.” Joel speaks the one word with finality, and you let go, your body shaking violently. His hand releases and you breathe in a full, round breath as you come, your pussy creaming so hard on his cock that you start to feel dizzy from it all.
“God damn, good girl… comin’ so pretty right now,” he whispers to your ear, the noise tickling your mind in the best way. Joel holds you up as you moan and whimper, his name falling off your lips in the way it always does in moments like these - worshiping him. You flutter and squeeze his cock like heaven incarnate, and Joel finds he can’t hold himself back any longer, spilling into you on the tail end of your own climax with a loud grunt, pretty praises for you off his lips.
You both collapse against the wall, Joel leaning against you, and you both catch your breath, the need gone for the moment after hours of waiting. You sigh, smiling in satisfaction when Joel pulls off of you, gathering you quickly into his arms, kissing you all over your head.
“That’s better, ain’t it?” he says teasingly, and you chuckle, nodding in his grasp. You both readjust yourselves, Joel helping you situate the clothing he’d haphazardly pulled aside in his frenzy earlier.
“Much,” you say with another sigh, leaning into him. “What time is our lesson tomorrow?”
“Not ‘till noon. Had a feeling we’d be… up late,” Joel replies wryly, and you laugh again.
“Such a planner,” you poke at him, raising your brows before tilting your head to kiss his cheek. You slip out of his hold and start to meander further into the room, jaw dropping for what feels like the hundredth time tonight while you take in the vaulted ceilings with those same warm wooden beams and white painted walls, a stone fireplace roaring in the center of the room across from the massive bed, adorned with rose petals. More roses sit atop the small breakfast table in a vase near the windows, and when you venture over there, the view you’re taking in is beyond stunning - the mountains in full view, moonlight shining over the entirety of the landscape and your eyes start to tear up. Champagne in an ice bucket, boxes of chocolate, fresh fruit, the entire works are all laid out - such a lavish, gorgeous display for the traditional romantic in you. You turn around finally, meeting Joel’s gaze, where he stands, a smitten look on his face as he watches you take it all in.
“Joel… What can I even say?” you gasp out, throwing your hands up before letting them hang back at your sides, defeated in the best way. “Thank you…” you say meekly, turning to peer out the window once more before walking towards him, throwing your arms around his neck.
“Thanked me plenty back there. An’ every day when you just be my good little wife, that’s thanks enough, doll,” Joel replies soothingly, stroking the back of your head. You lean your head against his chest, content to just listen to his heart beat for a few seconds, take in the memories of this moment. You lean back, tilting your head to give him a warm, grateful smile.
“Take me to bed?”
The next morning is far from the slow, romantic morning Joel had desired for you, realizing the both of you had forgotten to set any alarms and slept in well past 10:00 after your late night. It was barely giving the two of you time to get ready - a rushed shower and breakfast before hurrying to your skiing lesson. He’d dreamed about this hotel that he’d booked for months, the thought of waking you up with his mouth pressed deep into your cunt on that California King as he’d planned would have to be a distant fantasy as you two got on with your day.
Joel couldn’t help but stare at you the entire lesson, the way your face is lit up with pure joy in your ski gear as you fumbled to get the hang of things along with him. He’d gotten you ski pants, a jacket, gloves, and goggles - all the works that he knew was ridiculous for your first time on the mountain for that price tag. But he also knew you’d look just like this - adorable in your matching winter set, colorful goggles perched on top of your beanie and perfect lips curled into a never ending grin - and it made it all worth it.
Joel finds his own smile recounting the day as he keeps a steady hand on your back, the open back, low cut slinky dress he’d packed for you to wear to dinner tonight leaving plenty of skin for his hands to roam over as you two walk back to your room, full and contented. A candlelit dinner in the lodge’s shockingly expensive restaurant and a few drinks had you both feeling good as new again after your long day of skiing and mostly falling.
You two had laughed for hours as you’d fallen on your asses more times than anyone could count. Once you got the hang of it enough to get on the smaller slopes, you’d been unable to stop giggling the entire time, you and Joel catching up at the bottom just to ride the lift up again and again. You two flirted shamelessly the entire day like two teenagers, your heart swelling with so much love for your husband like it was your first date all over again. It was nice to have this uninterrupted time to just talk, get each other caught up on the other’s recent thoughts, feelings, and days that got lost amid the hustle of daily life.
Joel’s lips connect with the back of your neck as soon as the door to your room at the lodge is shut. “Like t’see those candy underwear again,” he mumbles to your skin, and you giggle a little too loudly, stumbling forward a bit.
Your brows wiggle as you try to crane your neck to look back at him. “That so, Mr. Miller?”
“Christ, y’only call me that when you’ve been drinkin’,” Joel teases, snaking his arms around to your front, holding you against him, the bulge in his dress pants becoming more obvious by the second as it hardens, pressing into you. “Can’t decide if it’s cute or jus’ makes me feel old.”
“No I don’t, Mr. Miller. And it is cute,” you demand, trying to hide the tiniest bit of a slur in your voice. Joel wasn’t wrong, you had been known to use that particular nickname for him after a few drinks, but you tended to be a bit of a bratty, indignant drunk.
“Thas right, ‘cause everythin’ you do is cute, m’little wife.” Joel says with a smile in his voice. His lips connect with your neck once again, trailing a few kisses down your spine. “An’ sexy…” he adds in a lower tone, one hand sliding to your hip, then your ass, squeezing hard before giving it a playful smack.
“Keep talkin’ if you want those candy panties to see the light of day again,” you reply, leaning back into him, your weight immediately welcomed by his warm, solid body.
“Oh, sweet girl, always gettin’ so bold with that wine, aren’t ya?” Joel’s hold tightens, one hand splayed across your torso and the other gripping your ass hard enough to bruise. “You forgotten who’s in charge here? Hm, baby?”
“A-actually, it was champagne…” you strain out, starting to pant as Joel’s hold goes even tighter, his domination quickly getting your thighs sticky, and you lament the fact you don’t have any underwear on right now. All at Joel’s request, of course, that you forgo any underwear at dinner tonight. You just whimper out a quiet moan, knowing you’ve gotten Joel riled up enough to keep going on his own volition.
“Think I don’t call the shots suddenly, huh? My sweet, sweet wife, we both know,” he pauses, mouth moving right next to your ear. A small nibble, his breath warm and tickling you in the best way right on sensitive skin sends a shudder through you. “That if I say put those fuckin’ candy panties on right this god damn minute, you’re gonna do it, yeah?”
Joel’s teeth suddenly sink into your neck a little, a tiny bite followed by a suck, and you nod desperately, silently cursing yourself for giving in so quickly, not giving yourself a little more time to play with him, let that tiny bratty part of you out of her cage for one of her rare appearances.
“Ain’t that right?” Joel repeats, giving your hair a little tug.
“Y-yes, Joel, yes baby…” you breathe out, and he releases your hair, his hold loosening on your body before he gives a loving pat to your ass.
“Good girl,” he coos, satisfied, sending another wave of heat to the apex of your thighs to hear his praise. A tiny moan slips out at the two words, still so effective after all these years. Joel chuckles, a tiny little huff off his lips as he spins you to face him. His hand cups your pussy through your dress, pushing the silky material between your legs before he tuts.
“Soakin’ yourself jus’ from gettin’ called a good girl…” he murmurs, lips getting dangerously close to yours. “Good. Girl.” he says with a smirk against your lips before kissing you. It’s long and deep, reminding you that behind the play and facade is an infinite amount of care for you - his wife, his forever.
He tears himself away, leaning his forehead against yours. “Now, go on and change f’me.”
You nod against him, then step back when he releases you from his hold. Breathless, on shaky legs, you rummage through your suitcase to pull out the candy set, smiling when you hold up the pastel treats, strung up on what might be the world’s flimsiest string. One minute in Joel’s rough, domineering hands and these would be toast, you think, almost laughing to yourself.
You see Joel go towards the fireplace, sinking himself down in one of the plush chairs there and crossing his ankle over his knee, settling back as he unbuttons the top few buttons of his crisp white dress shirt, watching you expectantly. You scurry off under his hot gaze, using the bathroom to change out of his eyesight before reemerging in his requested lingerie. You fight a giggle, wine still coursing through you while being reminded of the pure ridiculousness of this little stunt of yours.
Joel eats with his eyes first and foremost, sweeping them up your body as he finishes getting comfortable, unbuttoning and rolling up his sleeves. You stand in front of him, thankful for the warmth of the fireplace right next to the two of you in your skimpy ensemble, and take him in right back. Broad, muscled, just starting to show his age with more grays every time you blink, and you love it. Love every inch of Joel.
“On the ground,” Joel says coolly, and you smirk, trying to hide it into a submissive, coy smile. Your knees go first, the plush rug under them a welcome relief, pure fluffy luxury in a weekend full of it. You start to lay prone, chest heaving with anticipation, mind spinning and reeling, wondering what torturous loving Joel has in store, how much he’ll milk it all out just for your tiny bit of bratiness earlier.
“Jus’ like that, thas’ right.” He leans forward and smiles, a little devilish and boyish in one, and you think you fall in love again as you watch him moving, looming over you now. He quickly palms the outside of his slacks, just the quickest relief before sliding his hand away, starting to circle you.
“Where to start…” Joel trills, and your body heats up even more while his eyes dig into you. When he’s standing at your feet, he starts to come down, leaning his entire body over you. “Can you be a good little doll and lay still while I have my treat?”
Breathless, you nod. Your eyes roll back a little when you blink hard, trying to catch your breath. Joel’s lifted brow and stare prompt you without him even having to say it - use your words, darlin’.
“Yes,” you say more confidently, and Joel smiles sweetly down at you.
“Good.”
He starts slow, lips moving languidly across your belly, up to where the candy rests on your tits, lapping at the sweetness there for a few licks.
“Mmm…” Joel mumbles. He’s back on you the next second, sucking the candies right on top of your nipples. The friction of the hard candies combined with the tiny licks of his tongue coming through to the hardened buds has your back arching, hips searching for him. You squirm, panting now when he bites through the candy, grazing your nipple with his teeth. Joel’s hands come down, ever so gently guiding your hips back down to the plush rug underneath you.
“What’d I say about bein’ still?” Joel teases, holding you there now before going back to bite again, crunching the candies before using his sugary tongue to tease your nipple with a few flicks as it pokes through the hole he’s just made. You start to moan, already a lost cause for your husband, the thought of trying to keep your body still already torturous.
“I c-can’t help it… I’m sorry, sir,” you pant out when your hips lift again, his mouth working harder and harder on your nipples. He grunts disapprovingly and continues on until both of your nipples are free, surrounded by the rest of the candy bra. Joel seems like a man possessed, lost in it all while he devours the candies, sucking and licking each new patch of skin, a sticky, sweet mess all over your skin.
You’re aching, body tense and in hot, hot need of him now as he teases you over and over. Your thighs clamp tight, trying to avoid bucking them up into where his hard, clothed cock hovers teasingly right above you. His hand grips tightly to your hip, the string of candy taut between his fingers. He’s eaten enough of the bra that it’s starting to droop, fall off of you completely, and Joel tears it aside, scattering the rest of the candies along the floor with a tinkling sound that pulls you out of the moment for a beat as you turn your head to watch the treats roll away.
“Good girl, bein’ so good f’me… such a sweet little thing…” Joel says, lifting his head off of your chest, giving you ferocious, unhinged eyes and candy tinted lips, puffy and overused.
“J-joel… please…” you whine out, the way he’s looking at you pulsing right to your already soaking cunt. His hand slips underneath the panties while he keeps his eyes on yours, watching them roll back completely as he fingers your clit. Your hips buck, finally, unable to stop it and you feel your lip quiver as a shaky moan releases from them. Joel leans forward, his lips finding yours and kissing you zealously, a glace mix of him and the sweets has your head spinning as you lap the taste off of his lips and tongue eagerly.
“So sweet…” you mumble into his mouth, going back for more and more, until you’re feeling just as sticky and sweaty as he is, the slow burn starting to gnaw at you, your core dripping while Joel rubs the softest circles over your bundle of nerves.
“You’re perfect, y’know,” Joel breathes out, lifting his lips off of yours just the tiniest bit. “My perfect girl…” You moan when his finger suddenly sinks inside of you, too caught up in the moment to even notice when he’d delicately slipped it from your clit to your clenching hole. You suck him in greedily, desperate for anything he’ll give you and whimper.
Joel contorts himself, sliding down your body, keeping his finger moving at a languid, steady pace as his mouth now meets the candy panties, nibbling along the top of it. You’re losing control, unable to take the teasing anymore, the slowness of everything, your rough and ready husband nowhere to be found right now.
Your moans become breathier, urgent and panting out of you more quickly than you can handle, your mind going a little fuzzy and light as the feeling of Joel completely takes over you.
“There we go… jus’ float on away baby, let me take you there…” Joel coos from your hip where his lips graze against your skin as another few pieces of candy come off. You give him an affirmative noise, barely registered even by your own mind as your eyes slip closed, your body warm and tingling, so desperately close to the edge. Joel’s finger hooks upwards inside of you and you gasp loudly, your body wracked with spasms as you start to come onto his thick finger. Joel lets you freely writhe and shake now, not bothering to have you lay still while he fucks his finger against your g-spot relentlessly while you ride out the waves of pleasure. You’re whimpering, a complete mess, chest, face, cunt, all feeling sticky and completely used by the man you love.
Your head lolls along the rug a bit before you blindly reach your hand for Joel, grasping his shoulder with your eyes still lazing shut. “F-fuck me, please… please,” you whimper, lightly clawing at his dress shirt.
You hear one more crunch of the candies before Joel’s fingers hook on the sides of the delicate string and pull your panties off. You can feel him, his presence hovering above you as he sits back on his knees and you hear him unbuckling his belt, imagining in your mind the sight of his hard cock coming free, readying itself at your entrance. You can barely think about opening your leaden eyes right now, still on the heels of your climax as your chest heaves up and down. You can feel the warmth radiating off of Joel as he climbs on top of you, hands gripping your calves to lift your legs up enough for him to fit snugly between them.
You grit your teeth a little, grunting out a gratified moan when you feel Joel start to push himself in, your cunt fluttering as it accepts as much of him as he’ll give. You’re greedy tonight, you can feel it, just needing everything Joel can give you, how far away from reality he could take you tonight.
He pumps in and out, almost uncharacteristic in his tentativeness, more of his thick length going in each time, and you finally peek your eyes open slowly, hands reaching to his shoulders and pushing underneath the collar of his dress shirt, finding his warm skin. He’s moving slower than he normally would, and you find his face looking down at you with adoration, just content to watch your face twitch and contort with each unhurried drag of his cock along your silky walls.
“Lookin’ like an angel,” Joel comments, seeing your face sheening and glowing from your climax, hair splayed around your head like a halo - pure angelic beauty, a work of art that Joel could never tire of gazing upon. You smile softly, one of your hands stroking his cheek lovingly, soft moans streaming out of you while he keeps up the same pace.
“Baby…” you moan, “I s-said to fuck me, please…”
“I am, little doll…” Joel teases back with a slow push of his dick into you, and you shake your head.
“You know what I meeeeaan,” you whine desperately, fingers itching to reach down and grasp his hips, pull him into you harder. Joel’s hips twitch a little faster, starting to roll into you with more force and you sigh, head thrown back a bit more.
“What, like this?”
Uh-huh. You start to go a little breathless, legs wrapping around Joel’s waist, securing your calves tightly against him.
“You want me to use you up again, hm? That it? My poor baby, she jus’ wants this tight little hole to be so fucked out she can’t walk, doesn’t she?” Joel says, patronizingly sweet with the drawl of each word.
You nod desperately. “Please, sir, t-that’s…” you stop to moan loudly when he bucks into you harder and harder. “That’s all I want…” you finally choke out, Joel’s cock hitting you so deep you nearly feel your breath stolen right from your lungs.
“What my pretty wife wants, she gets,” Joel practically sings to you, bringing his lips down to yours for a kiss, letting his mouth sloppily work its way to your neck, starting to bite and suck while he crashes into you harder with each thrust. You can only make tiny noises, clutching him as your hands snake around his neck, holding him close to you. Joel grunts loudly between sloppy licks and sucks on your throat, his hips moving more clumsily as your walls squeeze him to the point he’s not sure how much longer he can hold back.
“God damn it baby, this little pussy wants me in there so bad, she’s so greedy,” Joel punches out right next to your ear. You shudder, hips spasming and only tightening you around him further. Joel groans loudly.
“Please…” is all you can whisper, out of breath as he hits deep inside of you with each new movement.
“Fuck, c-can’t… need to fill you up, darlin’, need you fuckin’ full of me…”
“Pleaaaase…” More urgently this time, lips dry from the way you’re sucking in oxygen in quick gasps, starting to feel your orgasm clawing at your belly, tingly and hot.
“Fuckin’ full of me… gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart. Give you my f-fuckin’ baby right now… m-make you swell up,” Joel pants, his face buried in your shoulder, biting down. You gasp, completely lost to the moment, fingers digging into his skin as you pull him in tighter, legs and feet crushed against his back. There are no two bodies here, only togetherness and sweat and breath - two people so lost in the moment and pure pleasure that they’re outside of themselves, becoming one frenzied movement to climb higher and higher to that sweet peak of relief.
“F-fuck… yes, yes, baby, yes…” you moan out. “Fill me up… d-do it…” you whine. With a stunted grunt Joel’s hips stutter forward, burying himself deep. The power, the emotion of it all as he starts to paint your walls tips you over the edge, fluttering tightly around him as you milk every bit of his seed into you, spasming and moaning as you reach another high.
“Oh my god…” you breathe out as you come hard, Joel’s ragged breath right in your ear softly moaning for you. The both of you fully collapse, Joel rolling to the side, clutching an arm around your chest. The crackling sound of the fireplace start to come back into your consciousness, the stillness and warmth of the room hitting you all over again while you lay back, feeling the stickiness of the two of you steadily leaking out of you. You’re speechless now, barely able to catch your breath, let alone process what Joel had hummed into your ear in the heat of the moment.
A baby. Did he really want that with you?
You two hadn’t discussed having children very often just yet, wanting to wait and enjoy being married, being just you two for a few years. But you felt your heart flutter a little, the thought of a little life inside of you, yours and Joel’s, a beautiful loved baby that you’d grow and nurture together. You can scarcely breathe at the thought, the love your heart swells with for this faraway notion, this unconceived child, already imprinting themselves onto your heart.
“Joel…” you murmur. His head turns towards you, and you watch light flickering around him from the shadows the fire is casting along his golden skin.
“I-” Joel stutters, seeing the look in your eyes. For once, he’s not sure he can quite read it. He knows he said something so much more tangible this time, beyond all the dirty talk the both of you love to get lost in. It was too much, surely, he’d scared you with it. “I’m sorry, honey, that was… jus’ caught in the moment, maybe…”
Your face falls a little, eyes dropping to peer past him with a sad look. “Were you?” you ask timidly, hands coming together on your belly and wringing nervously.
Joel’s eyes bore into yours, soft now, none of that feral fire that was there only minutes ago. He shakes his head slowly.
“N-no, no I wasn’t, doll,” he replies quietly. Your lips twitch a little, a small smile that you’re not able to hold back now.
“I, uh, I wasn’t either,” you tell him, and Joel’s eyes flash, lighting up a bit.
He turns completely on his side, and you do too, facing each other and scooting even closer. Joel drapes a hand over you, starting to rub lazy patterns onto your back. “So should we… uh, talk about this, then?” he asks, giving you a half, lopsided smile.
You give him a nod and a toothy grin, resting your forehead against his. “Get me those chocolates on the table over there and then we’re in business.” Joel moves without hesitation, winking at you as he pulls himself off the floor.
“Anythin’ f’you, darlin’."
You have no idea what hour it is, how long you’ve even been asleep when you feel Joel’s warm body pressing into yours, his chest now up against your back. The room is still nearly pitch black, making you take a moment to recall exactly where you are. You sigh, smiling softly at the memory of your trip thus far and you see a tiny sliver of light coming in around the blackout curtains in the room, clearly doing their job well by keeping you two asleep for god knows how long.
“Baby…” Joel whispers in your ear. You roll over slightly, your ass now rubbing into his crotch. Your eyes flutter slightly when you feel his cock, already half hard for you. Your insatiable husband, fucking you within an inch of your life for two nights in a row, and still coming back for more - a rare man of his age so voraciously consuming you over and over, never seeming to be satisfied.
“Hmm?” you murmur in reply. Joel wraps an arm across you, snuggling you closer, all warm heat against his broad, naked chest.
“Mornin’...” he mumbles back, lips pressed to your neck. “Sweet girl.”
“Morning, handsome,” you say, reaching an arm behind you to cup Joel’s cheek, running your fingers through his beard. He hums in pleasure, dipping his lips down to kiss your neck again. You shudder, digging yourself deeper under the plush comforter as you feel goosebumps covering your entire body. Joel’s hands start to roam, sliding over the skimpy, half see through pink slip you’d discovered in your suitcase last night.
Joel is suddenly shifting in the bed, and you feel the sheets rustling next to you before he’s bumping your legs as he climbs over them, settling himself underneath the comforter right in between your thighs. His touch just grazes over your plush thighs, soft and gentle, how Joel tends to be first thing in the mornings before he descends into the rough, possessive man that you’re more used to.
“So soft, little doll…” Joel murmurs from between your legs, his breath hot on your inner thighs while he leans down to kiss the outside of your panties. You just mumble incoherent noises of affirmation, still half asleep. Joel makes quick work of your panties, a pair to match the slip, of course, and pulls them down your legs, discarding them in the mess of sheets.
Your hips buck, a louder moan escaping you when his mouth finds your warm center, already wet and wanting for him.
“She’s ready f’me, ain’t she… waitin’ on her mornin’ wakeup,” Joel teases before running his tongue up your slit another time, flicking it on your clit a few times. A gentle suck there has your whining ramping up, hips begging him for more more more already. You’re barely even lucid yet and Joel is on the precipice of pulling yet another earth shattering orgasm out of you.
“J-jesus… please…” you beg, already feeling the familiar warmth pooling tighter in your core, your knees wobbling as they curl up, giving you some leverage to lazily push your hips against Joel’s tongue as it moves along your pussy.
“C’mon baby, fall apart f’me, s’okay it’s so fast…” Joel pulls back to murmur to you, kissing along your inner thighs as he speaks.
Your hand snakes below the sheets, burying your fingers into his lush, gorgeous curls, letting them massage his scalp as he dives back into your cunt, licking in just the right way he knows makes you go crazy with need, that makes you come within minutes, sometimes even much less.
You moan loudly, hips spasming as your climax surprises you suddenly, the waves of pleasure hitting you while Joel lets you ride it out onto his face. Your eyes roll back and you whimper quietly as you come down, flopping onto the bed with a content little sigh, body going limp. Joel kisses his way up your stomach, chest, and finally your lips, where you taste that primal honey of yourself on his lips. You quickly fall back into a dozing, lazy state before Joel wakes you again with his lips on your neck.
“Gonna order us room service,” he whispers near your ear, and you nod, finally opening your eyes to see your husband’s rugged, handsome face hovering above yours. Sharp smirk, stress lines, wild bedhead and all - he’s perfect, and you can’t help but smile sleepily in return.
“There she is,” he teases, giving your forehead a smooch. “One mention of breakfast and she’s all bright eyed ‘n bushy tailed, huh?” You stick your tongue out teasingly, waggling your head at him.
“How about we eat, then we can go explore the town, do a little shoppin’ f’you, see the sights ‘n all that, hm?” Joel asks, and you nod tiredly but excitedly.
“Mmm, sounds good,” you agree, blinking slowly as you try to wake up, finally coming to enough to recall the conversation the two of you had last night. The dreams you’d shared, hopes you had for having a child, all the ways your lives would change but also stay quite the same. The way your love would stay the same, deepen even, with seeing the other become a parent. Weighing it all carefully but with hopeful hushed voices, wondering if this was the right time for that next step for the two of you. When you’d both tearfully agreed that you’d start really trying in a few months after some more planning and thought, your heart soared higher than the clouds, than anywhere you could even conceive in your mind, chest tight with anticipation for all of it.
This morning that same feeling persists as you look upon Joel - so steady, so assured - everything you’ve ever dreamed of right here in this one man.
“How about we get some practice in while we wait for the food…” you suggest with your raspy, sleep laden voice, raising your brows at him as you feel his cock brush against you again, clearly hard and wanting.
“Baby makin’ practice?” Joel teases, scooping you up into his arms and peppering kisses all along the side of your face. “That kinda practice, hm? Not just an excuse to get me naked again?”
You laugh, turning your head to kiss him back, relishing in the familiar plumpness of his lips, the taste of your husband, all of it like a map you’ve traced your fingers over hundreds of times now, knowing every route, twist, and turn, filled with such a deep appreciation for the landscape laid out in front of you. You smile again as you two look at each other, feeling your cheeks starting to hurt from the way you’ve been grinning practically non-stop for the last two days because of your gruff but secretly so soft husband. Your hand moves upwards to cup his cheek, sincerity written all over you.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Joel.”
Joel smiles back, the same unspoken thoughts and deeply rooted loving care for you penned all over his features, entrenched in every weathered line, nook, and cranny of him.
“Happy Valentine’s, little doll.”
dividers by the amazing @/saradika-graphics <3
#fic: pretty little wife#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#x reader#the last of us fanfiction
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After
2k8 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3
Summary: you want Joel and finally get the opportunity to have him
Warnings: 18+ mdni. Virginity loss, age gap (reader is 23, Joel is in his late 40s), dirty talk, praise kink, oral (f/m), piv
a/n: @aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta reading, and for holding my hand with this one 💕🫶
Pic for mood only
Masterlist
***************
You had been watching the exchanges between Joel and Fedra soldiers for several weeks and finally he got scammed by one of them. When you offered him a new deal, you had a hard time hiding your satisfaction.
“You fucked up, Joel. Trusted the wrong guy,” you said with a smirk, “But I can help you.”
You had known him for several years. He sometimes did business with your father and never seemed interested in you. You were just “the daughter of”. He looked at you before letting out a surprised “You?”
“Yeah, me. Those supplies you need, I can get them for you. Come to my place tonight. I’ll show you a part of them and tell you how to get them all.”
He sighed, nodded, and left for his shift.
You heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs and opened the door before he knocked. He must have worked in the sewers that day because he had showered and changed. His hair was slicked back and still slightly wet.
“Ok, show me the supplies.”
You took out half of them, having watched his previous exchanges. You spied on him regularly, but you never thought you'd have the chance to get some kind of leverage over him. You had your own apartment in the QZ, where you lived alone after moving out of your father’s place.
No man interested you, except Joel. In recent years, you started looking at him differently. His gaze, his broad back, his hands obsessed you. At night, in your bed, you thought of him when your fingers rolled over your clit or when you rubbed yourself lying against your pillow. You imagined his body against yours. His kisses on your neck, his hands on your breasts. You imagined what you would have felt if he’d buried his length inside you. You wondered what his cock looked like and a few times, when you met him, you dared to lower your gaze to his crotch.
You had boyfriends before, but never did more than quick handjobs and blowjobs. None of them wanted to go further and you suspected them of being afraid of your father. You thought Joel would know how to deal with you. And now you had leverage.
“What’s your price?”
“I wanna have sex with you”, you replied confidently, making him laugh.
“You’re just a kid. Ain’t gonna fuck you.”
“I’m not a kid, I’m 23.”
“That’s what I said. A kid.”
“Come on, Joel. You can have all these supplies, just after having sex with me. Could be worse, don’t you think?”
“What about your dad?”
You rolled your eyes.
“I’m not asking you to fuck my dad, right?”
He smirked.
“You really want my dick that bad, that you’d give me all the supplies for it?”
“Yeah, in fact I do.”
He sighed. “Ok, your choice. Make me hard, if you want it that bad.”
You smirked and kneeled before unzipping his jeans. When his cock slipped free from his boxers, your lips formed an O. He was semi-hard, and already his size was impressive.
“Fuck”, you breathed out.
“Your boyfriends don’t have these kinda cocks? Come on, suck it.”
His hair there was slightly graying. He smelled of soap. You took his cock in your hand and collected the precum with your thumb.
“Spit on it.”
You did as he said, and you started jerking him off. He was getting harder. You licked his tip, lingering your tongue on his slit, filling your throat with his taste. You rounded your lips and took him in your mouth, applying yourself, breathing through your nose. You inwardly thanked the cocks you had practiced on before. Your head was bobbing and rising, and he was now fully hard. His cock was filling your entire mouth, precum flowing, and his taste was intoxicating you.
“Yeah, just like that. Keep goin’. You’re doing great.”
It was the first time a man spoke to you this way, and you were soaked. Gaze fixed on him, you took his cock out of your mouth and licked his entire length. From the base of his shaft to the slit. Then you licked one of his balls and took it in your mouth.
“Fuck…yeah, keep goin’. Didn’t know your father raised such a slut.”
You moved to the other ball, still jerking him, your thumb caressing his balls.
“Yeah…shit. Take my cock in your mouth again now. Keep suckin’ baby, just like that.”
His praise encouraged you. His hand was on your head, not applying any pressure. But when you took him back in your mouth, he held your head between his palms.
“Gonna fuck your throat now.”
He pushed all the way in, slowly, but giving you time to get used to his girth, to breathe calmly.
“Stay like that, don’t move. Yeah…good girl.”
He pulled back until only his tip remained in your mouth, and thrusted in again, faster, hitting the back of your throat. Again, he held you against him, your nose buried in his hair. Then he fucked your throat. You heard him grunt, and you were afraid he would shoot his cum down your throat. Like the other guys before. But Joel wasn’t like them. He was fucking your throat for a while, letting you catch your breath from time to time by pulling out. He was smirking watching the string of saliva connect your mouth to his cock. Finally he released you.
“Lie down on the bed and take off your clothes. Show me that cunt.”
You took off your clothes: t-shirt, jeans and panties, lay down and spread your legs, showing him your dripping pussy. He stroked himself a few times, eyes on you.
“You really want that? Ain’t got any boys of your age to fuck you?”
“Don’t want them.”
He looked at you again and shrugged before taking off his clothes.
“Need to stretch you first. Don’t wanna tear that slit.”
Shivers ran through your body when he placed his mouth on your folds and his tongue ran over them. “Fuck,” you moaned. Other men had gone down on you before, but he was different. Joel was eating you like a starving man, lapping at your pussy, drinking all the wetness that flowed from it. And he was hot. He was looking at you with a piercing stare while his tongue was buried in you. His broad shoulders were forcing your thighs open, and his hands were keeping them against the sheets.
“Yeah, you really want it…,” he growled between your thighs. And he was right. You wanted him, you wanted all of him, and you were moaning nonstop. He placed his lips around your clit, swirled his tongue over it and pushed his middle finger into your core, making you whimper. He added his index finger and you winced.
“You’re fuckin’ tight…when was your last fuck?”
“Shit, who cares? Keep goin’.”
He shrugged again, and thrusted both of his thick fingers into you. You focused on your clit, moaning. He was fucking your cunt with his digits easily now. You felt your wetness flowing down to your ass.
“Gonna cum for me? Come on, baby, you can do it. Give it to me, then I’ll fuck you.”
He sucked your clit again and your body shuddered, squirming under his tongue and fingers.
“Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl, clenching on my fingers like that. Want to get fucked that bad, uh? I’m gonna give it to you now.”
He carefully removed his fingers, and lapped between your folds one last time. When he stood up, you looked at his cock, hard as steel now, and you felt your cheeks heat up.
“Sure you can take it?”
“Yeah…yeah, I can take it, Joel.”
He nodded and laid between your thighs, cock in his hand, and he pressed it against your entrance before pushing lightly. You gasped and he pulled out.
“What is it?”
Your eyebrows were furrowed, and a tear ran down your cheek.
“Fuck, don’t tell me…don’t tell me you’re a virgin?”
He looked at you with wide eyes. You nodded shyly.
“Damn, what’s wrong with you? I ain’t gonna fuck you.”
“Please, Joel! I want it. Please.”
“I…fuck…sweetheart, I ain’t for first time. That cock ain’t for first times. I'm sorry."
“Please. Just…I don’t know, go slow?”
“Shit…It’s one thing to fuck you. Being your first time, is something else. The fuck is wrong with you? Can't you have your first time with a good boy in a decent place…But not with me, not as my payment.”
“Stop protecting me, or whatever you’re doing. Just fuck me. How many times do I have to tell you I want it?”
He looked at you, hesitant. You expected him to shrug but he didn’t. He laid between your thighs again. His tip nestled at your entrance. He pushed in again, slowly, his eyes locked with yours. He must have felt you tense, even if it was involuntarily, even if you wanted it, and he caressed your cheek. He pressed his lips to yours with a sweetness you didn’t expect coming from him.
Joel’s ruthless attitude was well known in the QZ. And here, right now, he was offering you an unexpected kindness. His lips were warm and soft. You felt your heart race when his tongue sought yours, passing the barrier of your lips. His cock twitched inside your walls. Before kissing you, he had paused pushing in, only his tip nestling inside you. He pulled away from your face and took your hands in his. He placed them on either side of your head, against the mattress, and said, “hold my hands, baby. Hold ‘em tight.” His body was warm against yours. Somehow, you felt reassured by his weight pressing you down.
So you squeezed his hands, and he looked at you, pointing his chin towards you, as if to say “ready?” You nodded, and he thrusted in again, muttering “fuck” through his clenched teeth.
He pushed halfway inside your pussy and you closed your eyes. “Look at me,” he murmured. You bit your lip as you opened your eyes, struggling not to tell him to stop, not to let the fear overwhelm you. He pulled back, his eyes in yours, keeping just the tip at your entrance, before thrusting in again. This time he didn’t stop. You squeezed his hands tighter and held your breath, until he bottomed out. He rested his forehead against yours, pausing deep inside you, and said, “Breath, sweetheart. You’re gonna be ok.”
He pulled back before thrusting in again, his movements were smooth and gentle. Your pain was gone, and the way he buried himself inside you, caressing your folds, made you squeeze his shaft. Your gaze remained fixed on his, devouring him. His brown eyes, his furrowed eyebrows, the brown curls of his now dry hair.
He stopped again and you pleaded “no, no, no, please, don’t stop. It’s…it’s good, it doesn't hurt anymore.”
“I know, baby, but…fuck. I need a minute. You’re too tight. Lemme…hold my breath, ok? Or I ain’t gonna last.”
You nodded, but you had a hard time stopping your hips from rolling towards him. You didn’t want it to end, didn’t want to stop feeling him in you. So you focused on him again. His nose, his mustache, his lips, and his patchy beard. You let go of his hands and placed yours on his biceps. You wanted to feel his muscles under your fingers, the warmth of his skin under yours.
“Shit…ok. How do you feel, baby?”
“I’m ok, Joel. Told you I could take it”, you said proudly with a cute smile - at least you hoped.
He smiled and kissed you again, as he started to fuck you, a little deeper this time, slightly faster.
You roamed your fingers over his arms, his shoulders, his back. His lips left yours, and his nose ran across your cheek before brushing your neck. His soft mustache made you shiver, and when he kissed the delicate skin there, everything you had imagined about him came back to you. He was perfect, just like in your fantasies.
He was fucking you slowly again, and you spread your thighs to feel him deeper in you. He was rubbing his pelvis against your clit, and you felt another orgasm building. Different from all the others you had so far. A deeper one, coming from the depths of your body, and you were moaning at every thrust.
“You like it, sweetheart?”
“Yes Joel, it’s so good…I don't want it to stop, please, don’t stop..”
He kissed your neck again, and said “I won’t. I know you’re good. You feel it coming?”
“I…fuck, yeah! How do you know?”
He gave a confident little nod, just as your orgasm overwhelmed you and made you clench on his cock. You whimpered and he held you tighter against him, his arms under your shoulders.
He whispered in your ear, “you’re such a good girl, coming on my cock. Damn, you’re squeezing me so tight baby.”
You could barely hear him, and your body was still trembling.
“Joel…,” you whined.
“I know, baby, I know…You’re ok. You’re ok.”
He kept thrusting into you the whole time, slowly, deeply, and you felt like his cock was made for you. You knew it was a dangerous thing to think, but couldn’t help it.
You heard him whisper in your ear again, “wanna try something, sweetheart?”
“I’m not sure if I can-”
He stopped moving, and placed his hands on your cheeks.
“Do you trust me?”
You nodded. Of course you trusted him. Right here, right now, he seemed to be the most trustworthy person in your world.
“I’m gonna lay on my back, and you’re gonna ride me. I’ll help you if you need me.”
You nodded again, and when he withdrew you whimpered, crying his loss as silently as you could. He lay down on his back, and when you saw the stained sheets you froze. “It’s ok. Nothing that can't come off after washing. And if it doesn't go away I'll give you other ones.”
You realized that he was constantly reassuring you since he found out that you were a virgin, and had never been rough. Your heart sank again.
You straddled him and whispered “how do I do it?” You felt inexperienced and clumsy, but once again he didn’t judge you.
“Take my cock in your hand, use me how you want it. You’re in control.”
You positioned his tip at your entrance and he nodded encouragingly. You lowered yourself onto his shaft, feeling your pussy welcome him. You didn't dare take all of him at first, and you rolled your hips slightly, your chest against his.
“Yeah, just like that baby”, he said, caressing your back.
When you felt like you could take more, you welcomed him deeper, whimpering in his neck, rubbing your cheek against his beard, as if to forget the heat in your core. You slid down his shaft, your hands roaming his cheeks, his neck, his torso. You wanted to feel everything. To fill all your five senses with just him.
You sat up, ready to take him fully. He placed his large hands on your breasts and hard nipples. You welcomed his warmth and covered his hands with yours. You were feeling his cock differently. Deeply. You looked at him, he seemed wrecked and you didn’t expect it.
“I’m not gonna last much longer. Rub your clit now, baby. Come on my cock one last time”, he said.
You nodded, and placed your finger on your clit. You felt fully exposed and vulnerable in front of him, but there were no red flags in him. You wondered if that would change the next time you’d see him, if he would avoid you. You pushed the idea out of your mind, focusing on your sensations. You kept riding him, eager to show him you were learning how to do it right. How much you loved it. And you truly did. Your finger was swirling over your clit, and you couldn’t believe that another orgasm was building in you.
“Joel…I’m gonna cum again, it’s…fuck, it’s so good.”
“Yeah, you like that, baby? Can feel it…you're gonna clench on my cock again? Gonna soak it, till you’ll drip on my balls?” His words made you whimper and you came a third time on his cock. Your head fell back, and he waited as long as he could before he lifted you up lightly and pulled out. He jerked off quickly, then spurted his cum against your thighs and your pussy, growling.
You laid against him, both of you trying to catch your breath, and he held you in his arms. You knew that you wanted to feel him again. To feel his lips, his hands on you. His cock in your mouth and in your cunt. You played tough when he arrived at your place, and now you felt different, your heart wanted to be filled too.
Again, the word “after” flashed in your mind, and pain twisted your heart.
****************
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#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#virginity loss#friends of juice collective#joel x reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#joel x f!reader#joel x you#joel x female reader#tlou#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal#tlou fic
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Cold Flower (NSFW)
A/N: My public apology for going dormant on Tumblr for nearly 5 months.
tw: jotun!loki dom!loki, sub!cottagegirl!reader, loki’s cock is big but his size kink is bigger, corruption kink, praise kink, manhandling but very cutely if i may say!!, unrealistically fast paced because loki is horny ) >:D
read it on ao3!!
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The grass tickles your ankles as you step through the bushes, careful not to step on any pretty flowers in your path.
Sunset is nearing, and you've only gotten so much as a few ferns. But you don't mind. The forest will bloom when it wants to, and even if you haven't collected any flowers for your work you're having a wonderful time looking around at all the birds and the deer and the butterflies and nature; just getting away from the busy life in the village is enough of a treat.
Stepping through a clear patch, you look around for any deer traps. What deer traps? The ones that have hidden nets that burst out from the ground like flytraps and scoop up any poor being that just happened to be there, leaving them trapped up in the air by a rope tied to a tree.
Now that you think of it, a clear patch in the middle of the forest means one thing: a deer trap has been set off already.
Right above where you stand.
Realizing the danger of being anywhere near a threatened or harmed deer, you’re ready to bolt out of the woods when you look up, and see a net that’s filled with leaves, branches, and stray grass reeds.
And dangling out of the net is a leg— a leg that looks less like a deer’s… and more of a person’s.
You gasp in horror. Someone’s caught in it!
Running around the tree, you find the rope suspending the trap buried in the ground. You rummage for your shears and hastily cut it, grabbing the rope to pull it down with your weight and let the trap sink to the ground slowly.
When it does, you run over, cutting away as much of the net as you can, digging through the leaves until you reach someone covered in an enormous fur cape.
You gingerly pull it back, and stare in awe.
It’s a man, with dark hair and sharp features, no doubt very handsome despite the scratches and cuts he’s sustained. The linen top he’s wearing is littered with twigs.
Softly, you brush away the twigs when you touch his wrist and freeze.
And quite literally, because his skin is as cold as ice.
Almost as if he were a corpse.
“Sir! Sir! Please wake up!”
When Prince Loki’s eyes open and adjust to the glare of the sun— and the silhouette blocking it out— his breath hitches.
Is this Valhalla? Am I… dead?
Surely, he must be. For above him kneels the most beautiful girl, almost shimmering in the golden light, it’s definite that you’re an angel.
“Hello? Sir? Can you hear me?”
An even lovelier voice for a radiant woman. He nods, and you let out a sigh of relief.
“Oh, thank goodness!” You lean forward, brushing away twigs from his face and cloak. “I thought you had died! I hate those deer traps, they’re dangerous and they're so hard to see! It almost killed you! Are you alright?”
“Yes- Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”
It’s as if he spoke without thinking, eager to hear more from your pretty lips. You catch your breath, kneeling back down, and he sits up to get a better look at the captivating face of his savior.
“How long have you been up there?”
Loki brushes his hand against his cheek. “I'm not quite sure- ah-”
He hisses when his fingers graze a wound on his temple, and he retracts his hand to find a few specks of scarlet.
“Probably not long, I'm still bleeding,” he shows you his hand, and you gasp.
“Oh, no,” you take a closer look at his face. “My house isn't far from here, I can help you clean up and get some rest. You must be exhausted. Are you alright with some porridge and biscuits? They're all I have the ingredients for and the farmers’ market is a bit far so I'm sorry if...”
Loki honestly can’t concentrate on what you're saying. He nods along, but he's rather focused on you.
As he tags along behind you as you retrace your steps to your home, Loki whispers a thanks to whatever Gods led him to be graced by your beauty in this moment, regardless of the circumstance. He had just been hunting for sport, unaware of the trap that had pulled him up into the tree so suddenly and rendered him unconscious.
Now, he's found something— no, someone— better; a much more rewarding, delicious little prey.
“I just realized I haven't introduced myself."
Loki looks up just as you say your name, timidly holding out your hand. He takes it after a moment.
“Loki,” he replies, once he finds it in himself to speak.
“Like the prince?"
He recoils a bit in surprise. “Yes- Yes, like the prince. Uh-"
“How are you feeling?" you ask, dabbing the cloth lightly against his wrist.
“They don't hurt if I don't move."
“Okay. Let me know if it does.”
Loki nods, watching you silently tend to his wounds, before he hisses softly.
You flinch, pulling away. “Oh, I'm sorry-"
“You really don't know who I am?” Loki asks.
A second passes as you look down at him, brows furrowing as you sit down next to him on your bed.
“I can't recall. Sorry, have you ordered flowers from me before?"
“You run a flower shop?”
“Yes, that's why I was in the woods. I was looking for fresh flowers and came across you up in that trap.” You tilt your head. “What were you doing in the forest, anyway?"
“I was... hunting for deer, and the last thing I remember is hearing something above me snap.”
“Hunting… Is that what you do for a living?”
“Well, no. My brother and I do it for sport."
“Oh."
Loki stares at you blankly. “My brother, Prince Thor."
You nod.
Loki chuckles. Your pretty little head hasn't registered it.
He leans in close, brushing his lips against your ear, and whispers very slowly:
“I'm Prince Loki."
And the reaction he gets is the cutest. Your lips part as your eyes widen, to which he grins.
But he doesn't expect you to fling yourself off the side of the bed and onto the ground, bowing down to him.
“Your Highness!” you squeak. “I'm so sorry, I didn't know!! I-”
“Darling, please," he chuckles, shaking his head. “That isn't necessary-"
“I'm so sorry, I'll get some tea, do you want anything from the market? Please, allow me-”
Loki bends down, lifting you off the floor in a princess carry and sets you down on the bed.
“Please, don’t stress yourself. You saved my life.”
He takes your hand, kissing it softly as he smiles up at you.
“Thank you, pretty angel.”
Your eyes widen as you stutter out tiny breaths. Norns, aren’t you the most adorable?
“I don’t think you believe me.” He stands up, pretending to be offended by your silence.
“No!” you cry . “I mean- I do believe you! It’s just- I was surprised, I didn’t think-”
“Didn’t think what? A prince would just be out in the woods for no reason?” He laughs, leaning down to you. Before you can respond, he chuckles again. “That’s alright,” he steps back, “you just need a little… evidence.”
Loki closes his eyes, and lets himself shift into his true form: blue skin, dark green patterns across his biceps. He hears the tiniest gasp of amazement from you as the magic also heals his wounds and cuts (and hopes that he’ll hear more of those cute noises very soon).
When he’s done transforming, he opens his eyes and stares down at you.
Dear Norns.
He knew he was already taller than you in human form, but this was just delightful. You’re much tinier than him, staring up at his stature with those wide doe eyes of yours.
“You are-” you blink a few times in shock. “You are the Jotun prince.”
He smiles even wider. “That’s right.”
“And… I… just saved the Jotun prince.”
He starts laughing, leaning down to whisper in your ear.
“Clever girl.” He knows he’s downright cruel, teasing you just because you’re so cute. “And do you want anything in return for ‘saving the Jotun prince’?”
“Well, I don’t know-”
Loki walks closer to you, and stands between your legs as he drops his cloak to the floor and leans down, drawling his next words very slowly.
“You deserve something… special. Something downright… pleasurable as a reward for saving my life. Something that you’ll remember for the rest of yours.”
He chuckles darkly when your breath hitches in realization.
He wants to make love to you.
“What?”
He pushes you down on the bed, trapping you in with his large body as he takes your wrists in one of his hands.
“You’ll feel undeniable bliss. I’ll take you over and over and over again until I’m sure you’re truly satisfied, because you’re such a sweet little angel saving my life and cleaning me up and looking so fuckable.”
You mewl, no doubt keening from his dirty words. He cups your chin.
“All you have to do is say yes. You don’t even have to do anything~”
His thumb brushes over your quivering lips, and push into your mouth. Loki grins as you look up at him, nodding slowly.
“Use your words, angel,” he teases, pulling his thumb away from your mouth.
It takes you a few moments to catch your breath. “Okay…”
He wanted to make you beg. He wanted you to say please, please fuck me so he could flip you over like you weighed nothing and take you over and over again like you’d asked but the way you whimpered withered away the last of his patience.
He had to make you his.
Loki captured you into a passionate kiss, muffling every last sound your pretty lips made so that only he could hear. He pulled away only to push you down on the sheets again, forcing his tongue into your mouth as you twitch in his hold, unable to comprehend how dizzy you are from just a kiss.
The two of you pull away for air as his dark green irises watches your eyes glaze over with submission. He grins, unbuttoning his white button-up and tosses it elsewhere.
He grins as you stare at his chest. Your tiny hands reach for him, tracing over the markings and patterns.
Loki hisses, taking your hands in one of his. You whimper as he stares down at you.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “Did that hurt?”
“No, no.” His voice softens as he leans in, kissing your nose gently, his other hand pushing your dress up your thighs. He kisses your cheek, then presses his lips against your ear. You shiver at his ice-cold breath.
“It doesn’t, angel. It’s just that if you keep doing that, I won’t be able to resist flipping you over and pounding you into the sheets until you’re dripping with my cum and you can’t think.”
He pushes his knee against your crotch, making you squeak like a pathetic little mouse. Loki grins.
“I will be doing that, mind you,” he teases. “But I simply have to get a taste of your pretty juices first~”
Your skirt bunches up against your twitching hips as Loki stares down at your dripping cunt.
“Oh," Loki chuckles. “You're already wet for me, angel, isn't that adorable~?"
You mewl, bashfully covering your face as he grins at your embarrassment.
“Stop teasing..."
Loki shakes his head, pouting in mockery. “Only if you stop being so cute when you're flustered. But until then…”
He places his hands on your thighs, pulling you closer to him as he lowers his face to your mound.
“... I'll enjoy fucking you until you submit to me.”
Your eyes widen as he licks your folds very slowly, and you whine shakily.
“Prince Loki..."
Loki grins, kissing your pretty cunt wetly and pushing his tongue into your dripping hole. And your helpless whimper of pleasure as he devours your pretty pussy whole is the cutest and most captivating noise he's ever heard.
He draws it out of you again, and again, and again, drinking every bit of your slick, even if poor little you are just getting wetter and wetter.
You're panting now, and Loki is equally as short of breath, only ever breaking away from you to watch your pretty face scrunch up so cutely. Loki licks his lips, nibbling on your thighs and making you squeak and tremble in his icy grip.
“You're such an adorable little angel," Loki grumbles. "Makes me want to eat you up like a little mouse, hmm?”
He holds you down firmly as your moans tickle his ears. The way your little hole squeezes around nothing is just so cute, he just has to stuff you full after he makes you come far too many times than you can handle.
“Aww,” Loki chuckles as you whimper breathily, thighs thumping helplessly against the bed. “Little angel can’t take it anymore?”
He brushes a blue finger against your dripping folds, sinking into your hole for the millionth time making you squeak and sob in sensitivity.
“P-Please…” you mumble, glazed eyes pleading for a moment of rest.
He sighs, forgetting you’re just a pure little thing having her first time, and gently scoops you into his arms to press a few kisses to your cheek and whispering your name.
“Have I thanked you enough already~?” He teases, and you nod, nuzzling into his hold though you shiver lightly.
Loki’s heart skips a beat. He feels you cling to him tighter and he feels your little ass grinding against his cock.
“Well,” he muses, “I believe my kingdom will be overjoyed to find that an angel like yourself saved their prince, hmm?”
“Huh?” you ask, still pleasure-drunk as you settle into his lap, as if you perfectly fit in his hold.
“I said,” Loki chuckles his icy breath tickling your face, “My kingdom would be overjoyed to find a pretty thing like you saved the royal prince, wouldn't they?"
“Mhm..."
“And they'll throw a week-long celebration...” he continues, trailing kisses from your cheek to your shoulder. “All for you~”
“R-Really?” you gasp as he begins sucking on your skin, sure to leave marks after. “A whole week? That's too much-!”
Loki laughs against your shoulder, holding your hips down so he can feel your hips grind against his cock. “Nothing is too much for a perfect little angel like you~"
Loki licks the bite mark he's so carefully placed on your skin, then looks up at your glazed eyes and twitching pout.
“Would you like to come back with me to the palace?"
The look of confusion and bashfulness across your face makes his cock twitch against your bare folds.
“Me?! With you?!"
“Do you abhor the idea of that?”
He knows he's being mean and he knows you don't hate the idea, but Loki just can't resist seeing you so embarrassed and stuttering to apologize.
“No! I didn't mean that! I was just surprised-"
Loki shakes his head with a little chuckle, and brings you closer to his face to kiss the crease between your eyebrows.
“I know, I know. I was just teasing."
“Don't be mean like that!”
Loki laughs darkly when you cross your arms.
In a flash, he’s got you on your hands and knees before your pretty head can even figure out what’s going on.
“And if I do, what are you going to do about it?”
You shiver at the dark growl in his voice.
You're so far deep in this haze all you can see is blue.
“Your highness-!”
Loki presses your chest against the bed, leaving your pretty ass on display, purely his for the taking.
“You’re just a little mouse that can’t hurt anything, hmm? Just so innocent, and weak, and ready to be ravished.”
A cold, thick finger traces your wet folds, and you whimper, burying your face in the sheets as he tickles your hole until you’re shaking with need.
“Maybe I’ll take you back home with me… and make you my wife.”
Loki shoves his finger all the way in, knocking the wind out of you because you swear you can feel him in your tummy.
“Your- Your wife?” You ask, voice higher and breathier.
“Yes~” he mocks your airy voice. “My pretty wife, who won’t have to get her pretty hands dirty ever again, who I’ll take care of, and protect, and fuck every single night.”
Loki curls his finger, reaching that sensitive little part in your cunt that effectively leaves you a mumbling, drooling mess on him.
When he’s gotten you wet enough, he draws his finger back (to his cute little angel’s momentary dismay) and forces your thighs apart with his body, the head of his cock twitching against your folds.
Loki will forever remember the gasp you let out when you feel just how big he is.
“Do you want to be fully mine? Do you want me to fuck this little hole of yours with my cock until you’re screaming for me?”
You whine at his dirty words, slurring something that sounds like a yeah, and he knows he’s got you exactly where he wants you.
“Really?” he chuckles, fingering your little hole one more time to slicken your folds. “Do you think I’ll fit~?”
And with the dirty wet noises that tickle his ears as he sinks all the way in he gets his reply.
“Oh?” Amused, he runs an icy finger up and down your bare back. “She can take it, after all. What a good girl~”
Loki barely gets the praise out before the prettiest whimpers fall out of your mouth like sweet honey, your poor cunt clenching down on him as your voice gets higher and breathier by the minute.
“Please-” you hiccup, turning to look at him with those pretty teary eyes.
His vermillion eyes stare you down cruelly as he grinds his hips down into your ass, making your head fall onto the sheets as you slur out a moan.
His cock feels so heavy inside you and by the way he laughs quietly you know he knows just how big he is compared to you.
And the way he pins you down harder lets you know he loves it.
“Oh, you just feel so good around my cock,” Loki groans, pulling back and thrusting into your leaking little pussy.
Poor you, already sensitive beyond imagination as this handsome blue prince ruins any other man for you with the way his cock stretches you out better than anyone ever will.
Not that anyone else will get the chance to. Loki’s decided it: he will take you home to the palace and make you his wife, and everyone will bow before their new princess.
Loki can't resist you any longer. He beats your poor cunt like the beast he is until you're whimpering and bucking against him helplessly.
“Feels... weird..." you shudder and gasp, tears leaking from your eyes as he sinks deeper into you, his huge cock hitting all the good spots inside you as your pleasure takes over your senses.
“Oh, is she close? Is this perfect little cunt going to come all over me?”
Loki's dirty words make you whimper and nod dumbly.
“Yeah," you sob.
Loki laughs at how blissed out his little saviour is and stops,pulling out slowly and groaning when he hears the sinful squelching as your juices drip onto the sheets. He turns you on your back, pinning your wrists to your sides, and captures your lips in his as he sinks into you once more.
“I missed these pretty lips," he smirks into the kiss, taking you for himself.
“Y-You just kissed me a few minutes ago..." You sigh dazedly, though you love the attention he's giving you.
“Still can't get enough of you. You're just so sweet~" Loki licks your lips, thrusting harder and making you squeak and link your fingers through his.
“Say my name."
“Loki...”
“Gods," he throws his head back, almost moaning at how submissive you sound. “Surrender to me, darling."
His hands snake down to the back of your thighs, lifting them and pressing them to your chest, quickening his pace.
Your eyes scrunch up as you nearly scream in pleasure, wriggling away as if you could escape from him.
“Surrender to me, angel~" he grins, kissing your neck and marking you up. “A pretty angel like you deserves to be pampered like this every day. Imagine that? You'll never have to lift a finger, I'll do all the work, I'll do all the fucking.”
Loki accentuates that last word with a hard thrust into your hole, making your eyes blur over with tears as you mewl helplessly in the Jotun prince’s tight grip.
“Awh, don't cry," he teases, kissing your nose when he gets a sinfully great idea.
He stops his movements, making sure he's buried all the way inside you before he flattens his tongue against your soaked cheek and licks your tears away.
You gasp, stunned for a moment before you keen and twitch helplessly, whining loudly as he does the same to your other cheek.
And your poor little cunt just clenches down again.
Loki growls, his primal instincts taking over because you're his ideal mate and you're nothing like he's ever seen. The sounds in the room get filthier and filthier as he loses control and rams into your poor hole.
“What do you say, angel?" Loki asks, letting go of your wrist before his hand makes its way down to your clit, rubbing the little bud and making you scream and tremble in his arms. “Be my- fuck- be my bride? Be my pretty little princess?”
“Yeah,” you mumble, chest heaving as your eyes flutter shut.
“Are you close?"
“Mhm..."
“Cute little mouse," he chuckles, pressing open mouth kisses to your neck as he rubs your clit. “Let go for me now, angel."
It’s a sight from heaven as you orgasm all over him, soaking his cock with your juices and helplessly thumping your thighs against the bed because Loki won't stop thrusting in and out of you.
Loki growls, pinning you to the bed. He stills, and you gasp at the feeling of his warm, thick cum filling you up. It makes you feel even more full than you already do and it makes you dizzy with even more pleasure.
It becomes too much for your melting brain to handle when he pushes deeper into you and you gasp, attempting to kick him away.
A firm, cold hand grabs your ankle and spreads you wider, and you whine shyly when he grins at you with a cruel glint in his eyes.
“Stay with me, darling," Loki teases, gripping your hips possessively and holding you still on his cock so he can finish filling you up.
It feels like hours before he breathes again, but it's only been seconds for him, already wanting another round with you.
But the prince resists, setting your sore legs down slowly and carefully sliding out of your cunt.
You sigh in exhaustion, but your breaths falters in embarrassment when you feel just how much he pumped into you, dripping out of your twitching folds and onto the bed.
A tiny drop even lands on your ass and Loki chuckles at your wide eyes, leaning down to kiss your lips and whisper a dirty promise that he'll fuck you down there too next time.
“Next time?” you ask, lips parting.
“Yes," he teases. " I've decided it, you're never leaving my side, my guardian angel~”
And he scoops you into his side, letting you rest before he has a few more rounds with your pretty hole— then he'll take you back home to the palace and convince you to stay. He'll show you the library. He'll let you lose yourself in the royal gardens all day if you wish! As long as you return to his chambers each night and let him please you the way you deserve to be.
But he's fallen for you already and the whole kingdom will burn in a blaze of sapphire dust if anything or anyone ever keeps him away from you.
#loki fluff#loki x reader#loki oneshots#loki x reader smut#loki smut#dom!loki#dom!tom hiddleston#soft!dom!loki#dom!loki smut#loki of jotunheim#jotun!loki smut#jotun loki smut#tw corruption kink#tw: corruption kink#corruption kink#innocence kink#tw: innocence kink#tw: dumbification#tw dumbification#loki laufeyson smut#marvel smut#tom hiddleston smut#dom loki#sub!reader
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#NightSkyChallenge: Prompt 7 — The night I lost a bet. [“You know what this means, don’t you?”] [6.6k]
— Summary: Joel has no idea why Bill gifts him with the book. Had he rambled about you that much? It seemed impossible—to be fair, but surely there were other things besides your name on his tongue. Besides how much you love your books and care for them. Besides how much he's learned since he met you because of them.
Either way, the book means you lost the bet. Joel cares for very little since Outbreak day, but this—oh, this he took it to heart. You'd lost, and he intended on collecting his prize.
— A/n: Canon-divergence; Reader and Tess met Joel at the same time, and all three became a tight-knit unit. | 🏷️ Tags & warnings⚠️: explicit mature content, minors DNI; age gap, mentions of canon-typical violence, confessions, touch starved, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), slow & deep sex, but also rough sex?, dirty talk, little spoon Joel.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterlist | read on ao3
All he can think about when he sees the bookshelf is your words, even if they were spoken on a whim years ago.
"There's no fucking way you can find a classic in good conditions anymore—not even Joel 'I can find anything' Miller is immune to decay and years of nature taking over. They're all gone, Joel. I just have to accept it. I bet there's not a single one that hasn't been wrecked by either people's ignorance or fucking mold eating every single page."
He remembered those words as clear as the day's first rays of light.
Not because of them, precisely. Because of what came after. He had blurted, "Bet what?" out of sheer instinct, only for you to reply with:
"Anything."
Maybe you were being metaphorical at the time, but Joel took it seriously. He outreached his hand for you to shake. "I'll take that bet."
If he never found a book, nothing would change.
If he won, on the other hand. Well—there's something Joel's been wanting from you for a long, long time.
That's why when he enters Bill's house for the first time, Joel stops dead in his tracks on the corridor leading to the kitchen.
You'd been to the house before with him and Tess.
Just like him, you had stood outside the whole time while Tess and Frank went about their rambles and deals. You, Joel, and Bill were all cut out from the same cloth—death stares etched onto your faces as if you were marble, grumbled conversation that came up here and there between long sips of wine.
Neither you nor Joel had been inside yet.
It's the third time he visits, first one without you, and he sees it—
Bookshelf.
One of Bill's doors is open on the way to the kitchen revealing what used to be an office but now looks more like a symbiosis of an atelier and library. It's — nice, Joel guesses.
It's not his thing.
Books — those are your thing.
Joel has no idea what connects you to the pages, but he knows it runs deeper than just academic pleasure, or snobbiness (an assumption made by many who met you).
It's as if whatever elements existed within paper, inked with words that strung together beautiful stories — it moved you.
Joel was entranced by the way you were able to quote several passages.
Few things remained that were worthy of admiration, or interest. He easily placed your small and precious book collection high above on his list.
That, and your ability to bring those stories to life somehow.
"Are you a reader?" Bill's voice is expected — Joel heard his steps approaching and stopping behind him when he did.
He scanned all the shelves, so he looks back to answer Bill. "Not really. Tess never mentioned who's the little Librarian between us? Our reader's absent today."
"If my, uh... —
If mine... if they brought strangers into our situation... I wouldn't be happy either."
"Oh. Well. They seem to listen to you as well as mine listens to me."
"I hope she feels better soon." Bill says the words and they sound so real. Spoken freely, not through gritted teeth or accompanied by his usual stiff shoulders.
Joel's hands rested on his hips. "Yeah." He hated this part — with Bill and Frank it was harder to not talk about things. He was pretty sure Bill didn't even like him, just like Joel didn't like him that much, but they saw each other. Understood one another. "Yeah, me too."
"The medicine you gave — it helped." That came out through gritted teeth. Joel held back from smiling at the unspoken admission—you sold me real shit. It's saving my partner. Thanks. "Frank's talking about — lavender. Herb garden and all. God."
Joel snickers and they exchange a look. "Good luck with that."
"I'll definitely need it." Bill's hands pat his sides, and Joel recognizes his motion before bolting out of a conversation. "Feel free to look at them," he waves a hand in direction of the shelf before leaving Joel there alone.
He does look.
One by one, Joel checks the titles because if you were here, that's what you'd do, and "when in doubt, always do what you must".
He hated that your words stuck to his brain so easily.
They were sticky like honey, which also resembled your voice. Or maybe that was only the way he heard it — Joel enjoyed listening to you talk.
"When in doubt, always do what you must" came after he left behind some supplies in order to help during a run, and you'd gotten mad at him for the first time.
It was then that Joel noticed how fucking tough you were.
Complete the mission. Help when you can. Do what you must.
If he was here already, he might as well read all the titles. Who knew how long he'd last? If he'd be here again, or if you would?
When his eyes land on Frankenstein, Joel knows he hit the jackpot.
That's when the memory of your bet sparks behind his eyelids, and he's cursed with the way you smiled that day.
Anything.
There was something Joel wanted, badly.
He cut out his own permission to want anything that strayed from finding Tommy again, getting clues to somehow discover a way to find his brother, get him back, but you planted the seed in his subconscious by simply existing — he was powerless to stop it.
One second, you and Tess walked into his life.
The next, he had on one side a best friend who cursed as much as him and on the other a menace who popped into his subconscious state, giving him dreams for the first time in years.
You two brought back a sense of humanity into his day-to-day life.
In return, Joel tried his best to do good for both of you.
Keep you safe however he could. Slip extra ration cards into your stack so you could more.
Small things like that — things that he later realized were only the seeds for the want that blossomed.
Joel wanted you out of the smuggling business.
He wanted you to be safe.
It was fucking ridiculous.
Your hand never missed the trigger timing — if there was anyone around the neighborhoods he lived more skilled in knives than you, he'd eat his own hand, and you were clever.
Quick, sharp, rational.
Despite all of that, he hated the sight of your back whenever a deal had them going outside.
Every time he saw a pistol or any other weapon in your hands, he wanted to throw it away as hard as he could.
And here he was, facing Frankenstein.
Anything.
Fuck. Joel hated how he hesitated.
If it belonged to anyone else, his hands would've already made the book meet the secret parts of his backpack, but he couldn't do this to contacts so good like Frank and Bill.
He couldn't fuck up this one.
Shit.
(Maybe he did like the two men, after all. Just a little.)
Joel has no idea why Bill gifts him the book.
One minute they're sitting alone drinking scotch while Tess and Frank finish up the trade and the next, they're talking about old hobbies they regretted not paying more attention to. Conversing like two normal people. Like Tess and Frank do, only without all the niceness and excitement.
At one point, Bill asks, "Did you see anything you liked?"
It takes a second for Joel to realize he's talking about the room and the shelf. Joel shakes his head. "Wasn't a big fan of readin'." A lie, he thinks. "Even that's a stretch. I — probably should've done it more now that I think about it."
Bill's answer is a hum. "Yeah. Lots of things I wish I should've done. Properly. Piano's one of them."
Joel eyes the item in the room. He recalls you and Tess talking about how Frank was lucky to know an instrument. "Frank's good at it, though?"
"He was rustier when he arrived, but yeah — he's doing good now."
Joel admires that. Some things are probably talent, he figures. "Practice's everything. 's why I feel bad for people whose thing was, like, artsy. Y'know?" He lists you and Frank as examples. "They ain't got means to do what they really love now."
That's when Bill shares that Frank paints. Piano and drawn, painted art — that was nice. Frank probably missed a lot of things.
If what you said was true and artists withered without their art like some plants did without sun or water, then he must be sad nowadays.
The new information sparks up a memory. The abandoned art supply on Canbose with 5th Street — was it possible there were some there?
Joel kept the doubts to himself so as to not spark any hopes of things he'd fail to deliver, but the real surprise is that he and Bill have their first conversation there.
It's a nice one.
Joel loathes that his brain comes up with the knowing looks both you and Tess would give him and Bill if either of you saw the way the two men can converse so easily once the guns are gone.
Bill's — he's okay.
Rough around the edges, sure, but in polished, sturdy ways.
He's also a little box of Pandora.
The last thing Joel could expect was being called aside by Bill before he leaves with Tess, only to find him hiding behind the door waiting for him with a furtive air in his stance, as if there could be any secrets that they'd keep from theirs.
Bill extends the copy of Frankenstein without meeting Joel's eyes. "Here." He all but shoves it into Joel's hands, and then nods. "It's the one you kept touching."
There's no reason to play bargain or pretend this is a gift he's too humble to accept.
He does as he's told, thanks Bill with a long nod, and walks out.
It does beat at his mind on the walk back to the QZ, though—had he rambled about you that much?
It seemed impossible—to be fair, he always managed to keep the conversation away from himself, but surely there were other things besides your name on his tongue. Besides how much you love your books and care for them. Besides how much he's learned since he met you because of them.
Either way, the book means you lost the bet.
Joel cares for very little since Outbreak day, but this—oh, this he took it to heart. You'd lost, and he intended on collecting his prize.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTWO DAYS LATER
The smell of your apartment envelops him every time.
Everything's open.
You keep plants hung in several places on your wall, and they're all so tall and green. Big, imponent, and your habit of walking through the place and touching one of them, sometimes going as far as plucking a leaf or petal out of them—the air suddenly turned into myrrh, lavender, eucalyptus.
Joel wished he smelled nothing other than here.
"Heard you were feelin' better," Joel says as soon as he has eyes on you.
There's more color on your cheeks. When you smile, Joel sees it reach your eyes even if it remains small in your lips. "Still feel like shit, though."
Tongue sharp as ever, then.
He chuckles and walks in as you move aside in invitation, gaze checking through the apartment as he takes off his shoes.
Joel always pays attention to everything that surrounds you.
While you ask about the trades you missed, he takes note of the spotless state of everything around him. Stainless windows, shiny floor, a sharp citrus scent lingering even around you.
Stress cleaning — check.
"Did you finish the food I gave ya?"
"Of course," you answer. Joel's happy to hear that — you ate very little on the first day you got sick, and he gave you some of his food to make sure you ate.
The two of you take a sit in the kitchen, and as you talk about work, he analyzes you better.
You had your most comfortable clothes on. They came from a box he found not long ago that was your size exactly; the shirt has wet stains on your chest, and your wet hair tells him you felt good enough today for the first time in a while.
Good enough to gather the patience to wash your hair in the sink.
"Don't mind Inoctus, you know he says that shit about the Fireflies all the time. I ain't gonna argue with him again," Joel waves a hand, and then gets to the part he wanted to talk about. "Never mind him, though — did Tess tell you about what Bill and Frank found for us? What Frank fixed?"
"No, not yet."
Excellent. "We've got some good news. Oh — and before I forget. D'you think that art supply on Canbose still has some supplies left?"
"The one that intersects with the 5th?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know. I don't see why it wouldn't have," you shrug your shoulders. "It's close enough to the QZ for it not be completely raided and I don't see who would prioritize stealing art supplies in the middle of everything." It made sense to Joel, and he felt a rare sense of giddiness tingling. "Why?"
He leans back on the chair. "Frank's a painter."
"No way."
Joel grins — you understood him. "Yes, way."
"Fucking hell. Is there anything he doesn't do?"
He laughs. "I know. I felt the same way."
"He plays the piano, he should be obliged by law to stick to that cool thing."
Joel likes it when you're feeling a little petty — the scrunch on your nose is adorable. He wants to pinch it between his fingers, even if he never did. "Anyway..." He shares the other updates about the trip to their house without you, then talks about the people who contacted him — the ones that gave him any trouble are your expertise, and Joel loves the set on your brows when you're listening.
He has no idea how someone who looks so precious can have such a wicked mind.
"She looks so — I don't know. Not this ingenious. Mean. How the fuck does someone who's always hummin' songs under her breath can intimate grown-ass man?"
"You're the only fucker who thinks she looks like an angel, Joel."
"Nah, we both know that's a lie."
"No, you're just delusional. If anyone thinks she looks angelic you better bet they're comparing her to Lucifer."
Was he? Delusional.
Tess always made him feel like he was faced with a Truth Mirror whenever he opened his big mouth around her.
After a couple of hours, you've already cooked some things — with the little help he could offer — for the both of you, taken notes of the people you need to talk to.
Joel realizes that time passes only when you.
Outside of your presence, it's all a snowball. Stale.
"Ah, shit." You get up in a rush.
"What?"
"Almost lost the time for my pills again," you mutter under your breath.
"You really need a watch." From where he sits at your kitchen table he can see your profile — the roll of your eyes. He huffs in disbelief, ignoring the feeling of his mouth tugging in the corners.
After you take your med, you sit on the couch and find his gaze from across the room. "Clean the table for me?"
Joel never says no to you.
Not for lack of want — fucking god must know how many times he's craved saying it, enunciating each letter with gusto. No.
It never came out.
He cleans the table thinking about how much he's delaying it.
The book's inside his duffel bag that remained next to your door all this time, but it weighs on his back somehow.
He did more than just clean the table as he tried pushing down the little mean jabs his mind took at itself.
You can't force her to stay outta business.
She ain't never listened to a soul in her life—who are you to tell her what to do?
Once every while, you would venture into Joel's personal space and place a finger where his brows pinched together. The first time it happened, the effect had been immediate—Joel was so shocked by the act that his whole face relaxed; not his body, though. His body froze, and he had stood there in a perfect portrayal of a statue.
You do that when he sits on the couch.
Your presence is so damn familiar to him that even lost in his own mind, he finds his way through the maze. He sits by your side, leans back, and drops his head on the couch.
When he feels your finger touching his frown, Joel opens his eyes.
"What's bothering you?" Your finger leaves, and he misses it.
Joel turns his head to the side. "Nothin'." He likes the way the color's back to your cheeks. A week on anti-inflammatory meds made you a little gray, and nothing about you was dull.
"You're a shit liar," you say.
He scoffs. "No, I'm not."
"You really are, though," you argue, fighting a smile. "And just so you know, your accent gets thicker the harder you try."
At that, he frowns. "No, it doesn't—" and fuck, he hears it. How the fuck did you notice that? His frown deepens, and you chuckle at him. "You pay attention to the strangest fuckin' things." It's said in the same gruff way he says most things, but there's enough admiration underneath it that you hear it for what it is.
"And thank god for that — it's what's kept me alive. Us alive," you snort, giving yourself the credit you're due for once.
In the end, he blurts it out. "I found it."
"Found what?" you ask, truly confused at the abrupt change.
"Something you told me I couldn't."
"That's... oddly vague," you reply. "I name a lot of things you can't find. You seem to think you have superpowers."
"No powers. Just talent." He shrugs, and gets up to retrieve the book. "What's the one thing you told me there was 'no fucking way' I could find?"
The second it takes for your brain to connect the dots is the time Joel needs to find the copy in his bag.
Joel sees your eyes dropping to it when he turns around. Widening. Freezing that way. Your lips parting only a couple of inches as your jaw slowly drops.
He sits with more satisfaction on your couch than he's sat anywhere in a long time.
The book falls with a soft thud between your bodies.
All the space he puts between you two is replaced by it —
Mary Shelley, Frankenstein.
"You know what this means, don't you?" he asks.
When you look up, Joel's caught off guard.
The moisture in your eyes shines under the light coming from your kitchen. Joel's throat becomes restricted by an invisible force, and his eyes sting in response to the sight.
"What the fuck, Joel?" your hands pick up the book with a reverence that makes his skin tingle. "Where... how —" both times you start, then stop. "My god." He just watches. You turn the book around, eyeing every millimeter. "This is real," you mutter. He's aware you're not even talking to him at this point. "Have you—" you look up at him, and he feels special enough, "have you opened it? Are the pages—it's whole?"
The way you breathe out the word.
A reverence. So sacred.
Joel might as well consider the bet paid if he wasn't so far gone on what he wants.
Kind of.
"It's whole," he confirms.
Joel almost opens up his mouth to make a teasing remark. Ask if you'd like to be left alone with it, maybe. Instead, he lets you examine it to your heart's will, which takes a while.
He's always comfortable in the silence with you.
That's when he started realizing the trouble he was in.
When he came over just to sit at the same table as you. Have dinner in silence while you cleaned your guns. Sometimes, he'd imagine a bottle of scotch would make the two of you end up in whispered conversations under the dim, yellowish lights of your place, but it never happened.
Joel's too much of a coward to let his guard down with you.
He wouldn't be able to do what he did with the others — a sweet release in the dark; an impersonal match of bodies, mingled in sweat and joined in more ways than it should seem possible, but never looking each other in the eye.
You looked him straight into his soul when you spoke to him. Every time.
"This means... you won the bet," you say.
Joel blinks out of his thoughts. "Sure does."
"So." You put the book down gently on your lap, then gaze at him, eyes piercing into his. "What d'you want?"
Tough question. Joel felt the tingle that never left his skin covering him from head to toe. His throat constricts around the words — his body starts to heat up. He shakes his head, and is overwhelmed by how the air seems to charge between you both. He licks his lips, and says.
Like a coward, his eyes fall on Frankenstein before he speaks.
"Can't have what I want." The naked truth. What's the point of lying to you, anyway? You're a shit liar. "So I'll ask for a close second," he adds quickly. Something magnetic pulls at him, and he looks up — a mistake. Fucking mistake—you never looked at him this way. Is that red on your cheeks? "I — uh; I want a voucher. A veto power."
You blink, utterly confused. "What?"
"A veto power over you." It's the closest he could think of on his way here. Some kind of power, since Joel has no right to demand anything from you. "On a decision. I—If you said you're comin' on a mission, for example. I could say 'no. Veto.' and that'd be it. No arguments. I want a veto card over you. Just one."
You stare at him for a few seconds, and Joel can almost see the engines in your brain turning.
Joel sometimes feels you're more than just yourself. The eyes on your head see far beyond what's in front of them, and he feels naked quite often when in front of you.
"Just tell me what you want," you say.
Can't have what I want, he told you. He shakes his head. "Doesn't matter."
"How would you know?"
"I just do," he argues.
"Maybe you're wrong."
"I'm not!" The storm swirls and lifts him from the couch. Joel turns his back to you, overcome by the reality of it all. "I know I'm not. There isn't—what I want is impossible. There's no such thing anymore. It ain't like the books, or finding fucking chocolate or—it ain't. I wanted you safe. How fuckin' stupid is that—" he chokes on air, gasping around the words. "There's no safe anymore." Softer, and lower, it comes out again. "There's no safe."
Most of the time, Joel's control is kept on a tight leash. His hands have a vicious grip around it because if he loosens it, it'll run off.
His hands are shaking now. He should turn back to face you, to see if he's just said too much or fucked it up somehow, but—you get up. He hears the squeaking of the couch and your steps approaching.
Then, as slowly as you approached him when you first met, he feels it:
Your hands slide around his middle. Your palms spread across his back and contour his waist, and you're hugging him—you hug him from behind, and Joel's chest expands with the air that your presence brings.
"Joel." You hug tighter. He can feel your upper body pressed against his back, and his hands come up to rest on top of yours, shaking as they are. He wants to speak up, but you beat him to it. "I thought I was going crazy, Joel."
Crazy? He is going crazy. You're wrapped around him and the world is yet to implode; Joel feels a knot in his throat that wasn't there before. "Why?"
It hits him — the answer.
Before you're able to say it hits him in the chest, because your hands grip him by the ribcages but not with force; all your fingers need to do is apply gentle pressure on him and Joel feels that you want him to move, so he lets you.
You spin him inside your hold, and Joel goes willingly.
When he's turned and facing you, the answer is there, all over your face.
Your hands stay on his back, but your eyes are searching on every inch of his face for any sign, for anything to deter you from what you want to do.
Joel sees it. He is delusional.
"I want the impossible too," you say. It comes out in a soft whisper, and Joel mentally curses all the moments of silence between you two where he felt the air as palpable as you inside his arms right now. When you looked at him, almost through him, and he turned a blind eye to it in fear that it was exactly what he wanted and craved for. "Is it — too much?"
He's incapable of answering.
His hands come up to your face, and he fits his palm on the set of your jar, where his thumb can touch your cheeks.
You melt to the touch, eyes closing along the way.
All those times you two shared a laugh and a look, and the silence hung in the air as your eyes were unable to leave each other — this. It could've been this.
"Tell me to stop and I will," is all he can say before he dives.
Joel meets you underwater.
The same way you're drowning in his hands with all of your weight supported on his body, Joel submerges as his mouth meets your kiss.
It's a waiting game — you were waiting for the moment he'd realize, he thinks.
Joel may be out of touch with reality itself, but some things can pierce through different dimensions.
Raw things never fail to elicit the strongest form of feeling and your desire pulls him under—real, demanding.
Although he remembers being a vocal partner in bed, he has no words or taunting remarks for you—he'd rather kiss.
Your mouth parts so eagerly for him that Joel wants to shut up.
He has you shutting up, moaning in his mouth as his tongue slides on yours. His fingers grip tighter on your hair. Your arms cling to him, then both of them let go to wrap around his shoulders instead, and Joel feels the despair as you climb up higher, as you press your body harder against him.
He understands it. Empathizes, even — he's feeling it on him the same way.
Your desperate, wet kisses rekindle connections long lost in his brain.
Joel remembers the desperate and insane horniness of youth when hormones mix with inexperience and everything feels new and like a raw, open nerve.
This tastes like those moments.
It'd been so long since Joel was touched and your hands start a mapping of his body that start to get him drunk.
It hits him that it's you. He's kissing you, and you're kissing back with so much force that he has no air, there's no air in his lungs—
He pulls back, gasping, and feels your nails digging into his scalp. The moan scratches the back of his throat and Joel only notices his eyes are still closed when your forehead touches his and your breath starts mingling with his.
Opening his eyes is a blessing. And a curse, most likely.
Seeing your mouth swollen and puffy makes him greedy.
Then — "Are you stopping?" you ask. Hoarse voice. Breathless. "I didn't tell you to stop," you add, whining.
Joel picks you up in one motion, and the laughter that bubbles out of your chest reminds him that you're light — you're the ghost that pops up in his dreams shining with the pink hue of sundown and you're the hope of his mornings, the scent of coffee and pages and herbs that make him feel like this earth could still have a sense of home even if he denies that fact, gritting his teeth at the fact the world still goes on.
He pins you against the nearest wall. One without a shelf, or furniture.
With you pressed against the wall, he has better support. He can trace your thighs with his palm, can get his hands underneath your cotton shorts, your blouse.
"Are you trying to kill me?" you ask him. Your head hits the wall behind you, and Joel looks up to see you watching him as he maps you. You visibly swallow when your gazes meet, and Joel wants to say so fucking much, but nothing comes out at first.
All he wants is to make the pink on your lips become permanent.
He wants to rip every item of clothing on you with his hands, and wants to —
"Joel," you lean forward, capturing his lips in a kiss and stealing all the images he had of you pinned on your own wooden floor, cheeks pressed against it as he took you from behind.
When your tongue meets his, Joel feels something snapping.
He growls into the kiss, both of his hands groping your asscheeks as he desperately grinds his hips against your body.
This kiss is even better than the first, even if it kills all of his oxygen faster.
Joel never kissed like this. Not this messy, this wet and sloppy mess of need, and dry humping, and swallowing your moans only to have them be echoed back to you when you grind your hips down in the perfect way—
When he pulls back for air this time, Joel grips your head by the hair, making a fistful at your nape.
"This is not just now, is it?" he asks. His own voice sounds like sandpaper and pure lust, and he's not even beginning.
"No, no," you shake your head. "I need you, Joel."
"Fuckin' hell," he has more to say, but now he needs you naked. "'m gonna take off your clothes. Then I'm gonna eat your pussy 'cause I've thought about it too many fuckin' times." Your jaw falls open at him, and Joel smiles despite himself. "Yeah. You gonna let me, baby? Hm?"
Your only answer is to nod desperately, grinding against him as your eyes close.
Joel's in heaven. "Did I win what I want?" he asks.
"What?"
"My veto," he pulls you away from the wall and starts carrying you to your bedroom. "I still want it. Can't have the impossible but I can have a veto."
You laugh as he kicks your door open. "You want a fucking veto? Joel, all you have to do is hold me by the chin and say 'no' or 'yes' and I'd do it. It's that simple. Always have been. " You grab his face between your hands and pierce him with those All Seeing Eyes. "I'll give you your veto, if that's what you want." You kiss his lips, sighing softly. "'m sorry I can't promise you I'll be safe, but I can promise I'll try."
Joel knows he's about to do something that can't be taken back when he lies you down.
He nods just so you know he understood, but the knot's formed again and if he speaks, Joel will cry — the words wouldn't come out anyway, even if he wants to say them.
Joel's unsure if they haven't been burned out of his tongue.
He takes off your clothes one by one. Ironic for someone who wanted them ripped to pieces not a minute ago, but to have you laid in front of him soothes the desperation somehow.
His plans get interrupted, though, because once you're naked and all of his brain is mushed into nothing but skin skin you you touch touch touch, you stop him from kneeling down at the edge of the bed with a touch and one request, "You too?" your gaze is so open and vulnerable that his hands go to his shirt. "No — lemme. Please."
Joel does, and you do the same to him, taking his clothes off one by one.
When you drop to his knees in front of him, Joel is powerless.
He's too stunned to say or do anything but look.
Even his hands that itch to touch only manage to do so when they're flying for some support so his knees don't buckle and he falls — you grab his cock by the base with one hand, look up until his eyes are locked on yours, and then licks a wet stripe from his balls to the tip.
Then you do it again, and again, until Joel's coated in saliva, and you can suck around the tip, swallowing him down in one go.
He grips your hair for life support, cursing under his breath.
Joel's vocal about how much you're fucking killing him.
You go at it slowly, which is even more torture, but he gets it. He remembers you talking about not being with a person for the longest time. How it made no difference for you to have the physical or not because the attraction wasn't there unless there something underneath it — for someone who's out of practice, you must have the knowledge.
Your tongue runs on the sensitive skin between the dick and his balls, your mouth suctions when it's taking him down and when you start bobbing your head, using your hand to cover the parts your mouth can't reach, Joel has to physically pull you back.
"Stop, stop —" his hand on your hair pulls you back, and Joel curses again when you whine at having to let go. "'m gonna fuck you, baby, it's okay, 's okay," he gets you up by the neck, and is kissing you right after.
That's how he falls in bed with you — with his cock leaking pre-cum, his back already coated in sweat and your mouth tasting like him.
Joel eases the fall with his hand, not wanting to crush you with his weight. He wants to eat you out — Joel wants to bury his face in you, but when he makes a move to go down, your legs clamp around his waist and your head starts shaking.
You pull back from his kiss, "No — later, you can do that later, just — please," you guide your hand between your bodies to hold him and guide his cock to your entrance. "Waited too long, Joel."
I need you, Joel.
"Wait, wait — " it'll be over too fast if he sees you all the time. Joel has an idea. "A position that's better for you first. I wanna see you too, but I want you to feel good. Turn around for me."
"You want me on all fours?"
"No," he shakes his head. "Just turn around."
You obey him, and Joel grabs one of your pillows to push under your waist. You rest your cheek on the one under your head, and he positions himself first before crowding your space with his head on the crook of your neck.
He dips his fingers in first, spreading your wetness all over you before lining up.
It's sinful how good the position is.
He fills you up, bottoming all the way out. Joel's thick, but not too long, and he knows this angle is as good for you as it is for him. "Feels good?" he asks in your ear.
Your only response is his name.
"Is that a yes?" he pulls all the way out, and slams it back in, wanting to feel the drag. Wanting to feel your walls clamping around him. How you open up to accommodate all of him. "'Cause you feel like — fuckin' heaven, baby — louder, say it louder —"
"Feels amazing, Joel," you cry.
He knows it does. Joel hasn't felt anything remotely close to pleasure in a long time, so this might be too much, he might be in danger of growing an addiction, but he's past caring.
He drags it out.
Joel wanted to fuck you senseless a while ago, but now all he wants is to stay buried in the tight and warm haven of your cunt until you're both too spent to move a muscle. "'m gonna stay — all fuckin' night — inside you, baby — hm, whaddaya think?"
"Yes, please—"
"God, I love — that's all you can say to me."
"Don't stop," you cry out louder.
"I won't." He couldn't.
He doesn't want to. He doesn't.
Joel thrusts into you slow, measured and deep, until the heat in his groin is climbing like your nails digging at his sides. He loses count of how many times he sucks on your shoulders, how many bite marks you must have on your neck, of how many single-worded compliments he spills in your ears as he fucks the words out of you.
When you beg to cum, Joel flips you over and hoists your leg higher so he can go in deeper, and he fucks you the way you've been begging him to — crying around his fingers for harder, and faster, Joel, please, please, I'm not gonna break —
He gives it to you like both of you have been dying to receive, and when your legs start shaking around him and his name drops from your lips in a scream, Joel pulls out, coating your stomach in the hot strings of his cum.
He doesn't collapse on top of you, which is a miracle.
He does lay strategically next to you in order to avoid his own mess until he's able to feel his legs again.
Your fingers thread his hair during that time.
The spasms of your legs make him smile, and the little hums that leave you without you even realizing make Joel float on his bliss.
When he comes back to himself, he gets up to get a warm towel. He cleans you both, just enough so sleeping is okay. He pulls up the duvet and puts you underneath it before climbing under as well.
When he lays, Joel expects you to turn around;
Instead, you wrap around him in octopus style, and whisper, "Turn around."
He obeys, and is rewarded by you spooning him.
Joel thinks he might be dreaming.
"Are you gonna be here tomorrow?" you ask after a while.
Your bodies are as tangled as they can be. Your hands caress the hairs on his chest and your breath is on his neck, and still, you are stared he'll leave.
"D'you want scrambled eggs or you prefer the toast?" he replies.
There's a kiss on his neck. Another on his shoulder. He grabs one of your hand to pull it to his lips, and kisses it.
"Scrambled."
"'kay. Where d'you keep your sugar? I can never find it."
"I'll show you tomorrow," you kiss his shoulder, and squeeze his body. "Joel?"
"Yeah, baby?"
He can feel your smile because your lips are on his skin. He's gonna use that more, he thinks. "I might wake up rubbing myself all over you," you whisper.
He laughs. "Fine by me."
🏷️ @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @earthtocharlene — @levylovegood — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @sanzusmile —@yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 💖
⚠️ if anyone being tagged would like to not be, just let me know in my inbox (which you can also use to talk to me about all the appeals of Joel Miller with his hair slicked back, you know... or what you thought of this one.. just saying... <3
#usernexusnyx#joel miller fic#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x you#joel miller drabble#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fluff#joel miller angst#joel miller smut#joel miller tlou#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal imagine#nightskychallenge#joel miller fanfiction
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Text
Tease
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Neil Lewis x girlfriend!reader
Summary | You show up to work wearing something he’s never seen on you before and, because of his reaction, decide to tease him for the entire day.
Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, kissing, lowkey public sex?, thigh fucking, groping, grinding, misogyny?, a tiny bit of angst, sexual tension, creampie hehe, humiliation, praise, overstimulation, orgasm delay/denial, Neil is down bad for reader lowkey (highkey).
Words | 6.1 k
Notes | idk I just like horny simp Neil.
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
“W-what are you wearing?” He choked out, almost dropping the stack of tapes in his arms.
“What?” You asked. He glanced at your legs as you walked closer, then turned around as you passed him to go clock in.
“What the hell are you wearing?” He tried again, firmer this time. You turned around, your brows furrowed in confusion, and his eyes kept going from your legs to your face.
“What? Neil, they're called shorts. It’s literally the middle of summer.”
“Those,” he held the tapes in one arm and gestured wildly at your legs with the other, “are not shorts. Those are practically underwear for fucks sake.” The door suddenly opened and you both turned to the customer walking in.
“Hi, welcome!” You called out, giving him a warm smile. He murmured out a response then started browsing the shelves. “We can talk about you and your fragile masculinity later.” You whispered to Neil, making his mouth fall open.
“Me being concerned about my girlfriend showing off her ass does not mean I have fragile masculinity.” He hissed back.
“It’s not even out and you don’t decide what I fucking wear, Neil. Get over yourself.” You spat.
“Yes it is!” He yelled, but quickly lowered his voice when the customer looked over.
“No, it’s not.” You seethed, then reached for the waistband of your jeans and pulled them up even more, giving yourself a minor wedgie just to spite him. “But now it is!” You said with a saccharine smile as you flipped him off and turned back around to continue what you were originally trying to do. You heard him choke behind you and you knew his whole face was red from anger and arousal. The thought made you smirk.
You didn’t intend for him to react this way. You just woke up late and threw on the first pair of shorts you could find. Sure these were from a few years ago… but they didn’t fit that much differently. Or so you thought. But it’s more fun to tease him like this.
After setting down your bag and clocking in, you walked to the back to grab a box and start shelving the returned tapes. Neil manned the register, sometimes clearing his throat and stuttering if you were in his eyeline. The store was empty again and he grabbed a few tapes to start putting away. Once you knew he was about to be behind you, you bent over to put a tape on a lower shelf, then almost immediately heard a loud crash. You stood up and turned around, finding him clutching one of the racks to keep it from tipping over as the tapes in his hands laid scattered at his feet.
“Are you okay, Neil?” You asked innocently, making him look at you again with a scowl. “Let me help you with those.” You walked over and dropped to your knees in front of him, then got down on your hands to stick your ass out as you collected the tapes. You grabbed a few and leaned back up, holding them out for him, but he was frozen, staring at you with wide eyes and parted lips. His gaze wasn’t even on your face, it was on your low cut tank top that had slipped down a little and exposed the top part of your bra.
“I’m not going to sit here forever, do you want them or not?” Almost as if he was in a trance, he raised his arms, letting you set the tapes in his hands. You leaned back down, sticking your ass up farther this time, and collected the rest of the tapes. You stayed on your knees as you handed them to him, but got back up once the door opened again. You greeted the person and Neil continued gawking at your body. Honestly you almost started to feel bad for him, but this was too amusing for you to stop now.
The day dragged on slowly. You ended up cleaning the floors and the couches a little, collecting all of the trash and pieces of popcorn lodged in the sides and between the cushions. You leaned down to look under the couch and spotted more trash, but it was too far back for you to reach it.
“Hey, Neil?” You called out, sticking your ass up and arching your back more. You heard a loud stomp, as if he had tripped, then he muttered curses to himself, making you smirk. You looked over your shoulder at him, still staying in that position, and his eyes were practically glued to your ass.
“Y-yeah?” He asked, voice cracking embarrassingly. He cleared his throat and forced his gaze to your eyes.
“Can you just move the couch back a little? I can’t reach the trash under here and I’m not strong enough to move it myself.” You are. He probably knows that. But he agreed anyway.
He stepped forward and pushed one arm of the couch back, then walked over to the other side to do the same thing. You shuffled closer on your knees and arched your back even more to press your chest flat on the ground so part of your shoulder could get under the couch— You weren’t lying when you said you couldn’t reach it, but you could’ve used a broom or something.
“Almost.. got it…” You groaned, reaching farther. “Fuck— c’mon… I’m so close.” You muttered, but in your bedroom voice. Your fingers brushed the trash, but you didn’t grab it yet, wanting to drag this out a little more. You let out a whine of discomfort at your position and tried to reach further under the couch. “Almost there… so close— so fucking close.” You all but moaned, wiggling your ass a bit. You were being pretty obvious by now so he had to have known what you were doing, but he still didn’t say anything.
Deciding to be done now, mostly because your knees were actually starting to hurt like this, you moaned quietly and pretended to reach further. Once you grabbed the trash, you let out the noise you usually make when you lay down after you finish riding him— a mixture of a huff and a groan. You scooched back out, shaking your ass a bit as you did so, then leaned up with a heavy breath. You held up the trash with a proud smile.
“I got it!” He was completely frozen, lips parted, eyes wide, entire face and neck flushed, and you could see the large bulge in the pants now. You stood up finally and placed a hand on his bicep. “What would I do without my big, strong boyfriend to move couches for me?” You said teasingly, giving him unnecessary praise just to fuck with him more.
“I— You… That..”
“Hm?” You tilted your head a little, giving him a chance to try again. The door opened again and you greeted the customer before taking a step away from him.
“But— you…” He all but whined, giving you puppy dog eyes as you started backing away.
“Neil, we can’t just stand here all day. We actually have to work.” You said with a quiet laugh and a warm smile.
“Excuse me?” A man called out, so you walked over to him. “I was just wondering what action movies you’d recommend?” You could feel Neil’s eyes on you as you walked over to that section and pointed out different films that you liked until he picked one. “What about comedies?” You walked over to that section, him trailing along behind you as you started listing out different titles and descriptions.
The only response you were getting was “uh huh” or “yeah” so you turned back around just in time to see his eyes snap up to your face. You brushed it off and kept talking until he picked one.
“Will that be all for today?” You asked.
“No… I have one more question actually. What adult films do you recommend?” Your eyes widened as you stared at him, thinking he was joking, but he was completely serious.
“I-I’m not really sure I’m qualified to give you a good recommendation for that.” You said awkwardly.
“I’m not interested in watching something a man likes. I’m asking you so I can learn what women like— maybe pick up a thing or two.” It was hard to tell whether he was smiling or smirking.
“Oh. Then uh… I guess I can help.” You glanced at Neil, who was already watching you, then cleared your throat and led him to that section. “If you want something that accurately portrays female pleasure, I’d recommend this one.” You pointed to it and the man nodded, waiting for you to continue. “That’ll probably be your best bet for learning new stuff.” You shrugged.
“What’s your favorite though?” Now he was definitely smirking.
“Um…” You cleared your throat with a blush and turned toward the shelves. “I’ve seen this one once or twice.”
“That’s not what I asked, sweetheart.” He chuckled. You were suddenly really regretting wearing the clothes you chose today.
“Need some help?” Neil asked and you all but breathed a sigh of relief. The man’s expression dropped as he turned to face him.
“What, you don’t trust a woman to help me pick out a decent film?” He tried turning the situation into something it’s not, but Neil didn’t budge.
“Not because she’s a woman. She’s new, barely been here a week. As the owner, I’m sure I’m more than qualified to help you though.” He gave the man a fake smile, making him scoff and roll his eyes.
“Whatever. This store is weird as shit and you’re a fucking tease.” He spat, dropping the films to the floor and walking out. You quickly pulled your shorts down as far as you could and crossed your arms over your body. God— you felt so stupid. In what universe would dressing like this in public ever end well for you? This could’ve easily been done on a day off, spent at home where no one can see.
“What a fucking creep.” He muttered, breathing a sigh of relief.
“I- I think I’m gonna look in the back for something to change into.” You said quietly, feeling like you were about to cry. Honestly you just wanted to go home, but it’s only you and Neil today. You can’t leave him on his own. You kept your head down as you walked past him, but he gently grabbed your wrist to stop you.
“Hey— wait, baby.” You took a deep breath and bit your trembling lip as he turned you around to face him. When he cupped your cheek, you couldn’t hold the emotions in anymore.
“I’m sorry, Neil. I- I didn’t… I was just trying to have fun but,” A choked sob cut you off and he shushed you as he pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around your body tightly.
“It’s not your fault. If it were your fault then every customer would have acted the same way. That guy was just a dick.” He cradled the back of your head as you buried your face in his chest.
“If you really want to change, I’m not going to stop you. But if you want, I’ll give you my shirt and you can stay behind the counter for the rest of the day.” You still.. technically wanted to continue whatever game you were playing. But you just felt so unattractive and gross and stupid and turned off. “Or you can go home, baby. There’s only a couple hours left and weekdays are usually slow anyway.”
“No. No I can’t… I can’t leave you here alone.” You croaked, lifting your head up to look at him. “I- I’ll just wear your shirt.” Honestly you wanted to wear sweatpants and a hoodie right now, but his scent was already starting to calm you. Maybe it could calm you even more while you finished working.
“Are you sure?” You nodded and stepped back, sniffling as you subconsciously covered your body again. He only hesitated for a moment before unbuttoning it and taking it off, leaving him in just a t-shirt. He helped you into it then gave you a soft kiss on your forehead, making you blush.
The rest of the day went by slowly. Only two other people came in, one of which was a man, but you felt safe hidden behind the counter and in his shirt. Neil finally locked the door and turned the sign to say ‘closed’ while letting out a heavy breath. He walked back over to you and stood on the other side of the counter, leaning his elbows on it to get closer to you.
“Can I help you?” You giggled, getting flustered by the proximity.
“Why yes actually. My girlfriend had a rough day today and I want to bring home a film to cheer her up. What would you recommend?” Despite the reminder of what had happened today, a small smile creeped up on your lips.
“Are you sure she wants a movie? There are plenty of other ways a guy could cheer a girl up.” You said suggestively, trying not to laugh.
“Really? Well, do you have any recommendations for that?” He continued playing along, doing much better at containing his laughter than you.
“She might like a kiss. That’s always a good start…” You said quietly as you glanced at his lips.
“And what should I do after that?” He rasped, leaning even further across the counter.
“I have a few ideas… but she might want you to surprise her instead.” Your voice was getting embarrassingly breathless now.
“She hates surprises.” He whispered.
“Not this kind.” You said, just as quiet. You were subconsciously leaning closer until you could feel his breath fanning your lips. Your eyes fluttered shut and your nose brushed his for only a moment before he finally connected your lips. Letting out a quiet sigh, you leaned even closer to him and brought a hand up to run through his hair. He pulled back far too soon and you whined as you tried to pull him closer by his hair, but he just let out a breathy chuckle in response.
“Let’s go to the couch.”
“We should go home, Neil… People can still see inside and it feels wrong to fuck on a public couch.” You said with a quiet laugh, even though you wanted him now.
“Who said anything about fucking?” He didn’t let you get another word in before walking over and plopping down onto the couch. You followed, but he stopped you as you started to sit. “No. Continue your little game from earlier.” You blushed and averted your gaze, suddenly getting shy.
“Neil…” But you didn’t know what to say.
“I think there’s a tape stuck in the VHS player. Can you try getting it out?” There was no tape, his tone made that obvious, but so did the bulge in his pants— he wouldn’t ever have you do something work related after hours, especially while he’s horny. “Or it can wait until tomorrow and we can head home.” He was giving you an out, letting you stop the scene if you were uncomfortable, without feeling awkward about it.
“No, I’ll give it a try.” You smiled, then shuffled over to the tv on your knees. Putting one hand on the ground, you stuck your ass out just the slightest amount while your other hand pretended to do stuff on the device. “Any suggestions?” You looked over your shoulder and his eyes snapped up to your face from your ass.
“Maybe there’s a cord unplugged or a cable loose or something.” He gestured to the floor, so you lowered your chest down and pretended to look at all the wires down there. “Anything?”
“Not that I can see.”
“Try getting a little closer maybe.” You shuffled closer, then wiggled your hips a bit as you ‘searched.’
“I don’t know, Neil… Everything looks normal.”
“I’ll call someone about it then. Thank you for trying, baby.” You leaned back up and turned to face him, still on your knees.
“Anything else you need me to do?” You asked innocently, making him chuckle.
“I’m not gonna overwork my best employee. Come up here.” He patted his thigh and you scrambled to your feet to go straddle him. Your hands settled on his shoulders and his grabbed your hips. “You should wear my clothes more often. They look good on you.” He murmured, leaning forward to trail kisses over your neck.
“Better than my own clothes?” You smirked, making him laugh breathily against you.
“Definitely not.” He kissed up to your ear, then down your jaw until his lips brushed yours. This time you leaned forward. When he squeezed your hips tighter, you moaned quietly and brought your hands up to tug on his hair. The kiss was messy and desperate, releasing hours worth of pent up sexual tension in just that one simple action.
His hands snaked around to your ass and he groped you almost painfully, making you gasp out a moan. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your now open mouth and licked into the kiss. You were panting as much as you could while being kissed and he started pulling your hips to grind on his covered cock. You whimpered and tightened your grip on his hair, making him let out a low groan and pull back enough to speak.
“These fucking shorts…” He gruffed, pulling you harder against him. “Were you trying to kill me? Honestly I should have you arrested for attempted murder.” You giggled at that— his humor during moments like this were your favorite. When he suddenly pulled his hand back and brought it down hard on your ass, you yelped embarrassingly in surprise. He was back to groping you, using his grip to help you grind on his bulge.
His hands snaked up to the waistband of your shorts and he pulled them up even further, making you whine and bury your face in the crook of his neck. The motion gave him a better view so he grabbed your ass again and tilted it up more, arching your back almost uncomfortably to get a good look. Even if you weren’t currently grinding on him, the seam of your shorts would’ve been enough to leave you panting and moaning, desperate for more. He slid his fingers under the leg holes and pulled them up even more, then started moving your hips even faster.
“Let me see your tits, baby.” He whispered, making you whine, but lift yourself up anyway. He never stopped moving your hips as you reached for the top button on his shirt and slowly worked your way down. “I can’t fucking take this anymore, please let me see.” He whined, his hips bucking up into you now. Once his shirt was unbuttoned, you shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor. You were practically spilling out of your bra and he removed one hand to tug down the front of your tank top and expose even more of you.
“Fuck…” He groaned, leaning forward and kissing across your chest. He started mouthing at your nipple through the bra, making you whine at the lack of real stimulation.
“Neil…” You tried to beg.
“You did this to yourself, baby. Dressing like this.. bending over for me and sticking your ass out… kneeling and giving me a perfect view of your tits.” He landed a rough smack on your ass, making you jolt. “That was all you. Now it’s time to accept the consequences of your actions.”
“Please!”
“No. Get up.” You pouted, but stood on shaky legs, watching him lay down. “On my lap facing away from me.” He ordered. You tentatively crawled onto him and straddled his hips, looking back at him over your shoulder as you waited for the next command.
“Give me a show, baby.” You whined once you understood what he wanted. Placing your hands on his thighs to brace yourself, you started rocking your hips, grinding on his bulge. He groaned quietly behind you.
“Stop.” Your hips slowed to a stop and you waited in anticipation. “Pull them up more,”
“But I already basically have a wedgie, Neil!” You pouted, moaning when he slapped your ass again.
“Up.” He growled. You huffed, but moved your hands to the waist and pulled them up more. “Now hold them there and keep going. Faster.” You whined as you adjusted your position to start grinding on him without being able to steady yourself. “Higher.” He spanked you again, forcing a whimper out of you. You lifted them even more until it was almost starting to hurt.
“Good girl.” He groaned. Your thighs were starting to burn, but every time you slowed, you got another spank, each one harder than the last. After a while he huffed— and probably rolled his eyes. “Lay down.” You finally let go of your shorts and leaned forward so you were laying between his legs. He groped your ass, pulling your cheeks apart and pushing the shorts up to expose more skin. When his thumb ran over your mound, you jolted with a startled moan.
“Holy fucking shit.” He chuckled, making you stiffen. What the hell was so funny? “You soaked through the fucking jeans!” He laughed loudly and your whole face flushed in embarrassment. “Oh my god this is priceless. You’re really that horny?”
“Stop teasing me, Neil.” You whined with a frown.
“I’m sorry, baby.” You could tell by his tone that he wasn’t.
“You’re being mean.” You pouted and he rubbed over your clit a little harder now, making your hips flinch back toward the pleasure.
“I’m being mean… It’s not like you spent the entire day teasing me…”
“I’m sorry.” You whimpered, hips squirming. He shushed you and removed his hands from your body, making you whine quietly. When you heard his belt, you paused. “Neil?” You asked quietly, but he ignored you. Clothes were rustling and he was shifting under you until he grabbed your thighs, pushed him together.
“Thighs together. Feet over my shoulders.” He demanded and you finally realized what was happening.
“Neil, no. I’m sorry— please fuck me.” He smacked your thigh this time, making you cry out. You dropped your head onto the couch with a whine, but moved into the position he wanted. His cock was pressed firmly between both thighs and against your covered heat, and you left out a long, bratty whine to protest. It cut off into a yelp though when he slapped you again.
“Stop it.” You felt like a child with the way he reprimanded you. His hands settled on your hips and he lifted you a little, giving himself just enough room to thrust up into you. “Squeeze my cock, baby.” You whined, but squeezed your legs together and he started bucking his hips, fucking your thighs.
When you tried to slip a hand between your bodies to rub your covered clit, he slapped your thigh again, much harder this time.
“Hands behind your back.” He demanded, making you whine.
“Neil, please! I said I’m sorry— please just fuck me…” Your voice trailed off into a pathetic whimper toward the end of your begging.
“Hands behind your back or I’ll come like this and we’ll be done.” He warned. You sobbed out a moan, but put your hands behind your back. “Good girl. While you’re at it, pull those shorts up more.” With a quiet whine, you moved your hands down to grab the waistband of your shorts and pull a little. They were already up so high, there wasn’t really anywhere for them to go, but Neil wasn’t satisfied.
“You wanted to parade around and show off your ass so fucking show me.” He growled and you tried pulling again.
“Can’t, Neil.” You whined.
“If you want me to fuck you then you need to figure it out.” You wanted to cry out and kick your feet— throw a tantrum basically. But that wouldn’t get you what you wanted.
You reached down a little more and grabbed each leg hole, then pulled. The fabric was digging into your cunt in a way that was pleasurable for a while, but was quickly becoming painful with the more force you used. It was also just uncomfortable having a wedgie with something so thick.
“Better.” You knew he meant ‘better, but not good enough’ so you pulled them up more.
“Hurts..” You whined with a pout.
“Poor baby.” He cooed condescendingly. “If only you hadn't been a tease all day.” He started bucking his hips up faster and grunting quietly as he panted. It sounded like he was close and you frowned at the realization. “More.” He ordered breathlessly. “Pull them up until your eyes get as wet as your cunt and you’re begging me for mercy.”
You cursed under your breath and bit your lip as you pulled even harder. It was so hard doing this to yourself. If he had done it, then you probably could’ve endured the pain, but you were having a hard time doing it to yourself.
“I don’t hear any crying or begging.” He hinted. With a quiet whine, you yanked the shorts hard enough to make the sound turn into a pained cry. More than half of your ass was exposed now and even though this was painful and degrading, it was making you needier. Needy for his touch, his praise… needy for him. So you kept pulling, letting out a strangled sob and burying your face in the cushion, trying not to think about the fact that this is a public couch.
“Good girl.” He groaned, tightening his grip on your hips and bucking up even faster now. “God these shorts are so fucking hot…” He moaned breathlessly. “Maybe I’ll start enforcing a work uniform…” You didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking. “Since you seem to love showing off your ass so much.” He removed one hand from your hip to spank your ass, then immediately put it back. You let out a startled moan and instinctively squeezed your thighs tighter together when your body tensed up, making him choke on a moan as his thrusts faltered.
“Holy shit… Keep squeezing me like that, baby.” His voice was even more breathy now. You kept your thighs firmly pressed together, even as he cursed and moaned loudly when his orgasm finally hit. Most of his come landed on your thighs but some of it covered your ass and shorts as well. His sounds quieted and he loosened his grip on your hips, letting you lay on him as you relaxed your thighs.
“Neil…” You whined, on the verge of tears.
“I know, baby.” He said through a breath as he continued panting, trying to calm down. “Lean back up.” You let go of your shorts and moved your legs forward so you were kneeling again. “I’m not done looking at your ass in those shorts and I need a minute before we can continue so ride my thigh.”
“Neil, please.” You sobbed out, trying to turn around but he grabbed your hips again.
“Stop fucking complaining and just do it.” He gruffed, making you whine.
“Please! Please just fuck me already— I can’t take this!” You cried, vision going blurry with tears.
“Fine.” He huffed, pushing you off of him as he sat up, but remained facing the center of the couch. He grabbed one of the pillows and threw it on the couch beside you. “Ride that instead.” Once he saw your expression, he continued. “Ride it or we’re done for today.” Your gaze shifted between him and the pillow as your bottom lip started trembling. He sighed and scooched closer to cup your cheek.
“I know you’re needy, baby. You’ve been such a good girl for me. Can you keep being good just a little longer? Then I’ll give you what you want.” He said softly, making you practically melt. Hesitantly, you gave a small nod, biting your lip. “That’s my girl.” He whispered before leaning closer and giving you a gentle kiss. You tried not to frown when he pulled away then moved back to his position on the far end of the couch.
With a quiet sigh, you turned around and straddled the pillow. His come was already staining it— you’ll have to remember to take it home to wash. You closed your legs a bit to keep it in place, then slowly started grinding on it, spreading the mess. Honestly, the jeans were doing more for you than the pillow was, but you had to be good. You wanted to be good for him. He cursed under his breath, so you sped up a little, trying to put on a show for him.
“Fuck, baby…” He groaned, making you blush. You were whining now, speeding up and letting out quiet whimpers and moans each time you rocked your hips. You needed more so badly.
“Neil,” You murmured, still trying to be good while vocalizing how you were feeling.
“Is it not enough?” He cooed, almost sympathetically, and you shook your head with a quiet sob. “Okay, baby. Take them off now.” You could’ve cried in relief when he finally gave you permission. You removed the shorts quickly and discarded them and the pillow on the floor. “Underwear too.” You complied eagerly, then you were facing him, staring at him with wide, pleading eyes.
“Please fuck me.” You whimpered.
“Lay down.” He said softly, moving off of the couch to give you more room. He stroked his cock a little, bringing himself back to full hardness. Once you were laying down, he crawled over you, forcing your legs open as his body settled between them.
“You’re such a good girl.” He whispered, giving you another kiss. This one was longer and a little more passionate than the last. He pulled back but kept his face close, his nose brushing yours as you both panted. When he lined his cock up with your drooling hole, your breath hitched. He pushed in slowly, forcing you to feel every inch as he filled you. “Fuck you’re so wet.” He said through a breath, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours. He took a moment to compose himself, only moving when you started whining and squirming. “Okay, okay. I know.” He chuckled quietly, making you pout. But the expression left instantly when he slowly dragged out before pushing back in at the same speed.
“Neil,” You gasped out, clinging to his shoulders and digging your nails into his skin as you whimpered. He hissed and his hips stuttered before he sped up a little.
“So good for me…” He whispered, voice barely audible. “Take my cock so fucking good.” You whined loudly and pulled him down to bury your face in the crook of his neck, trailing sloppy kisses over it since you could barely focus. He kept the pace slow and sensual for a while, panting lightly and caressing you softly.
“Please.” You whimpered, feeling your orgasm quickly approaching. “Neil, please.”
“I know, baby.” He said through a breath, speeding up a little more. “Your little pussy’s just aching to come on my cock, huh?” He snaked a hand down and started rubbing your clit. That action, along with his words, had you mewling and arching your back up into him, desperately trying to get closer to the edge.
“Please,” Was the only response you could give.
“Be a good girl and beg for it.” He said teasingly, making you let out a long, bratty whine.
“Please make me come, Neil. I need it.” You whimpered, giving him puppy dog eyes. “Please— it hurts.”
“Oh, it hurts? You poor thing.” He cooed mockingly, holding back a smirk.
“Please! I’m sorry for teasing, Neil. Please let me come.” His fingers sped up on your clit, forcing a choked moan out of you. “I’m so close… I’m so close— please,” You started babbling out senseless pleas, getting closer to the edge.
“Okay, baby. You can come now.” You almost cried in relief.
“Thank you! Fuck.. thank you,” You moaned. By now your hips couldn’t stop moving, trying to get more pleasure out of his thrusts and his hand on your clit. He didn’t reprimand you for it though. When he leaned down and started kissing your neck, the knot of arousal in your stomach finally snapped.
You cried out, clinging to him desperately as hours worth of pent up arousal finally exploded. Tears were brimming in your eyes from the intensity and you could just barely hear his moans through how loud your own were.
“Good girl.” He murmured, kissing your neck just below your ear. Your body trembled as he worked you through it, only moving his hand away from your clit when you finally sagged into the couch. You whined when he started thrusting faster and he shushed you. “I know, baby. I know it hurts, but just hold on for a little longer.” He begged and you couldn’t help the strangled sob that escaped you. It was too much.
“Neil,” You whimpered.
“You’re okay. Just a little longer, I promise.” His voice was getting breathier and more desperate as his thrusts became frantic, chasing his second orgasm. He pressed his lips to yours and he sped up even more somehow, making you cry out into the kiss.
“It hurts,” You sobbed quietly, making him pull away from your lips, but not stop thrusting.
“I’m so close, baby. Just let me come— let me come and I promise I’ll be done.” Even though he was technically “asking” you to let him do that, you knew he wasn’t really asking. “Fuck— fuck, I’m…” He choked out, cutting off into a whine as his hips stuttered, then finally slammed all the way in. Your whimper wasn’t heard over his loud groan each time he bucked his hips, trying to go impossibly deeper. You could feel the heat of it inside you, making your clit just barely start throbbing again. His movements finally stopped and he panted against your neck as he recovered.
“Fuck…” He breathed, laughing quietly. You couldn’t help but laugh a little too. “Are you okay?” He finally leaned up to look at you, getting concerned by the tears still in your eyes. Instead of responding, you pulled him down into a kiss, feeling his cock give a little twitch inside you. When you pulled back, there was a love-struck smile on your face.
“Mhm.” You hummed and he chuckled at your response.
“We shouldn’t have done this here because now you’re sleepy and you’re gonna complain the whole time when I make you get up so we can go home.” He said amusedly.
“I absolutely am gonna complain the whole time.” You smirked, making him scoff teasingly. He slowly pulled out and both of you hissed because of how sensitive you were. He pushed your legs open more to watch his come trickle out of you. Letting out a low groan, he bit his lip and shook his head in disbelief.
“I will never fucking get tired of this sight, I swear.” You blushed in embarrassment and looked away from him. When his fingers swiped through your folds, you jolted. He didn’t do much else other than keep his come from dripping onto the couch, but he quickly grabbed your shorts and put them back on.
“Wait— Neil, I kind of need underwear.” He was undeterred and continued until they were around your hips, making you cringe at the feeling.
“We’re gonna go home and you’re gonna stay covered in my fucking come until we get there and I can give you another load.” His voice was low and somehow still thick with arousal, making your stomach flutter.
“Too much of a coward to do it before we get there?” You smirked, daring him. It’s dark out now and there are plenty of places you could stop on the short walk home.
“That’s cute.” He deadpanned, making your smirk widen. “Stand up.” He put his length back in his pants and buckled his belt as you got to your feet. As soon as he was standing next to you, he grabbed the back of the jeans and pulled them up, making you let out an embarrassing yelp. Once a decent amount of your ass was hanging out of the bottom, he let go and put his shirt back on, leaving you in what you came in with so you couldn’t cover yourself.
“After you.” He smirked, smacking your ass when you turned around to head for the door.
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page 622
read on ao3
Eddie Munson x afab!reader E +18
summary: It's the middle of the night and you just can't find sleep. Eddie wants to help. He wants to help so bad.
Words: 3k
||reader has insomnia, smut, fluff, pinch of angst, LOTR references, domestic, nerds in love||
A/N: This is for all of us who haunt the nights. <3
Page 622 is graced with not one, but two dog ears.
That’s nothing unusual for the thick heavy paperback in your hands. A copy of The Lord of the Rings, all three parts united in one book and littered with battle scars like a gnarly old Orc of Mordor.
It belongs to both of you, bought on that whimsical fleamarket by the side of the road with spare change collected from the nooks and crannies of the van. It hadn’t mattered that you already owned a box set each, it had been clear that this book wanted to go home with you. Once integrated into your shared collection, it became the copy that was pulled out when Eddie and you had an argument about the most minuscule details to settle. It wasn’t a rare occasion that someone got tackled before they could claim victory over the matter. That brave book had been ripped from victorious hands more times than you could count and flung over shoulders, into corners or behind furniture.
It was also the copy Eddie used to ponder ideas. When he was writing a campaign and the atmosphere he was eager to create didn’t feel quite right, he would go down into the Mines of Moria or deep into the thicket of Fangorn forest and seek inspiration between the lines. There he left marks with the heavy tip of his pencil, elbows catching on the edges of pages as he reached for his notebook, creating new dogears, sometimes small tears.
You loved those marks and never grew tired of discovering fresh traces of his adventures. They kept you company on those days you wouldn’t get tired at all.
The world between the worn covers was familiar, the motions of the adventures committed to memory in many places, the adventurers friends that comforted you on restless nights.
You chose this copy over the others you own because it’s an intimate object, because you could trust it to catch you should you fall asleep on its pages, trust it to be more beautiful in the morning with more kinks and wrinkles.
But there were days when even the unhastiness of Treebeard wouldn’t do the trick to coax you into slumber. Today was such a day; stuck on the sofa on a dark, restless sea and no sleep in sight.
You hadn’t heard him coming.
“Just flopped around the mattress like a fish out of water looking for you.”
Eddie’s voice is deep and raspy and a little cranky around the edges. Your eyes shift from page 622 to where he stands in the doorframe, all tousled hair and sleepy eyes. There are lines on his right cheek, a shallow relief in the mirror image of his pillowcase. His boxers sit dangerously low on his hips and it tickles in your fingertips to follow the trail of soft hair and tuck them further down.
“That’s an amusing image,” you say with a smile as Eddie rubs one eye with his flat hand, nose scrunched up and wrinkly. “Can you demonstrate that to me?”
“Do not mock me. I awoke all cold and lonely…” he waves the other hand through the air. “Forsaken by my love.”
“I’m sorry,” you say, the mirth in your tone slipping just slightly, but Eddie catches it.
“How long have you been up?” he asks, banter put aside in exchange for worry and makes his way over to the nest of blankets and pillows you’d made on the sofa.
You frown, not sure you know the answer to that question, feeling like you’ve fallen out of the stream of time; trapped in endless night, doomed to read the same three sentences on page 622 again and again with nothing but your thoughts for company. Until now.
You turn to check the thin green digital numbers on the VHS recorder while Eddie lowers himself to the ground in front of you. “Almost two hours.”
“That’s no good,” he says softly and fumbles with the blanket draped over your legs in search of your skin, nudging the book off balance. It slides down your lap with a soft rustle. Dark, heavy eyes search your face for clues he knows you’re reluctant to give him and a warm palm finds your thigh moments later, an epicentre for violent goosebumps. You shiver and he smiles. “What can I do?”
“Nothing—“
“You underestimate my relaxing properties.” He places a kiss on your knee. “It’s pretty annoying, actually.”
You shake your head. “Don’t want to keep you up—“
“Want me to take over the reading? You just rest and listen—” He lowers his voice to a soft rumble. “—let me hypnotize you.”
“You really don’t have to—“
“Shhh… would you please just let me help?” Without waiting for an answer, Eddie slides the blanket off your thigh and covers it in soft, slow kisses.
“Can’t—“ kiss “go—“ kiss “back to sleep—“ kiss kiss “knowing—“ kiss “you’re out here alone. Suffering.”
His hair is soft between your fingers. You loosen a few small knots while you rake your nails over his scalp.
“Eddie… I…”
It’s exhausting being a ghost, to haunt the wee hours of the night unable to find rest. It was also lonely. There was a hazy barrier isolating you from the people around you. From the man whose company you craved so much but struggled to accept in this circle of hell.
Eddie has had his fair share of sleepless nights, had done plenty of haunting himself; but not like this, not without a trackable cause that offered some degree of sense. And you’d never wish this on him no matter how lonely you get, but sometimes, you find yourself envying him for the way he just falls asleep on any surface most days and with the envy, there comes resentment. The disconnect between resentment and longing a rope binding your hands behind your back, keeping you from reaching out.
Dark eyes are staring holes into your body as Eddie is waiting for you to continue, to give him something.
“You what, sweetheart?” He’s rubbing circles into your skin. “You want me to leave? Like, actually?”
“I don’t want to take my mood out on you…”
“Why not?” he grins. “We could make it fun. Tire you out, air out some of that—“ his hands leave your legs to gesture wildly through the air. The cold creeping in where his warm palms had just rested feels unbearably cruel. You don’t want him to leave. “— some of that pent-up… whatever it is.”
“Okay.”
Eddie’s brows vanish under tousled bangs. “Okay? Shit, I had this whole speech planned about how we’re a team and that you’re being so stubborn is a waste of time—”
“You complaining?”
“No… no…” he smiles and runs his hands up your thighs. “So, you wanna be a little… mean to me?”
“No,” you breathe out. “Don’t want that.”
He hums and nods, leans down and licks your skin; from your knee right up to the hem of your shorts. It’s the slightest touch, just the tip of his tongue, but the sensation sinks into your body like warm summer rain falling onto dry and dusty ground.
“Let me love you,” he mumbles against your thigh, running the tip of his nose along the border of fabric you hide behind. “I hate it when you feel lonely while I’m right here and fucking crazy about you…”
“You’re right here,” you repeat like in a trance. Eddie looks up at you, so soft and wild at the same time and so sincere and you feel the last layer of resistance melt as if it had never existed.
“Right fucking here.”
“Fuck me.”
Warm gentle hands begin to free your legs from the tangle of blankets and you marvel at how much of Eddie’s essence resides in his touch; soft but rough around the edges where his fingertips have put on tough skin over the years. There’s so much love, so much passion lingering in those points where you end and he begins.
Accompanied by the soft rustling of fabric, Eddie runs those storytelling hands up and down your thighs, from the inside to the outside and up to the round of your ass where he ever so slightly puts his nails against your skin and runs them down down down to the back of your knees where he holds on and pulls you further down the cushion. You yelp a little and then you both laugh a little and you lift your hips to aid him rid you of your shorts and underwear.
“M’ gonna try a thing,” he says and spreads your legs just wide enough to fit in between.
“Try w-what?” you ask around a hitching breath as you watch Eddie slide two fingers into his mouth. They glisten with spit when he pulls them out and you can hear a few drops hit the floor as he lowers himself down.
“You know how I sometimes take ice-cold showers to shock spiralling thoughts out of my mind?”
“I… what? AH!”
One long finger enters you swiftly, moves in-out-in-out and is joined by the other. Heat expands like a shockwave through your pelvis as all the blood rushes to greet the pads of Eddie’s fingers. He moves with precision in quick pulsing motions against that soft erogenous spot deep inside you, watching you closely.
“Good?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Not too much?”
“No,” you grit out as your hips start to twitch.
There is no smug little smile, no told-you-so grin, only deep concentration and a bright red blush high on his cheeks and you desperately wish he’d kiss you. That thought is gone and forgotten as that penetrating pulse quickens, deepens and Eddie’s mouth inches closer and closer to your clit. There’s a sharp tingling in your cunt, not quite a sting, not quite pain and it’s hot and delicious and as it spreads out into every corner of your body, the world gets smaller and smaller, shrinks countless miles each second until this sofa is the only place left in the universe.
“Holy shit, holy shit, those noises, sweetheart.”
You can’t hear a thing over the rush in your ears and as Eddie’s lips close around your confused, prickling clit, your eyes roll up and close.
And for an infinite moment, there’s nothing left but ecstasy.
When time starts up again, you’re re-entering the world shaking and gasping. Eddie is quick on his knees. One hand closing around your wrist and the other pressed into your back he pulls you into an embrace that you collapse into like a dying star.
“I love you I love you I love you…” he whispers into your hair and holds you holds you holds you until you feel solid again. “You good?”
You nod and hum.
Hands find your face and guide you up and you remember how badly you need a kiss when Eddie’s lips form pretty words so close to yours. “Now, let me take you to bed and—“ You interrupt him, pressing your mouth to his with desperate, sloppy urgency. He chuckles softly, catching your lower lip with his teeth for a gentle tug before he pulls away.
“Come on,” he kisses the corner of your mouth. “Really wanna continue this.”
“Can’t move… you broke me.”
“Oh, well, pretty sure you broke my fingers with your pussy so we’re even. Get up.”
You laugh and reach for the hand cupping your left cheek; you kiss the palm, run your tongue along his fingers and kiss the tips. “Better?”
Eddie’s brows shoot up and he takes a sharp breath. “Bedroom!”
He scrambles to his feet and pulls you with him. In motion like that, you can feel drowsiness settling in, slowly taking hold of your muscles. Your legs still feel shaky, almost heavy, and Eddie wraps an arm around your waist for the moment it takes you to steady yourself.
“Looks like it’s working,” he says softly.
“Feels like it, too.”
Finally, there is the smug smile you have been waiting for. “And it took me less than two minutes. ”
“You… checked the time?”
“For science,” he says proudly and the smile turns into a grin.
“Ah, science. Alright, Doc,” you reach down, hook a finger into the waistband of his boxers and let it snap. “I’m ready for the next experiment.”
Eddie tilts his head, narrows his sleepy eyes and hums. You can hear the cogs in his mind take up speed and then he sidesteps you and begins to rummage through the mess of blankets and pillows on the sofa.
“What are you doing?”
“Just a sec, you gave me an idea— ha!” He whirls around and shoves The Lord Of The Rings into your hands. Your reaction is tardy and you feel the cover catch on your thumb and bend in a way that probably leaves a crease but you have not time to check because Eddie is quickly maneuvring you to the bedroom.
He sits you down on the bed and swiftly pulls your shirt over your head and you have no choice but to let go of the book. It drops somewhere on the mattress and out of your mind when Eddie flicks on the bedside lamp and strips out of his boxers.
“Never gets old”, you marvel at the sight of him, pale and lean but soft and the smile you just conjured with those words seems nothing short of diabolical with the way the light catches his features from below.
You recede onto the mattress and he follows you like you’re magnetic, crawling after you until he’s back between your legs, kissing his way up your body, taking his time to caress your breasts with his hands and lips. Only when you yawn he stops and comes up to face you, to kiss you and you drink in the sigh of relief that he places inside your mouth as he slides his hard cock against your folds, you hold on to goosebump-covered shoulders as he pushes inside you.
“Never gets old,” he moans as he rolls his hips against you in deep, slow thrusts and kisses your nose when you have to giggle.
You’re not chasing ecstasy now, but wholeness, you’re not searching for a high, but for refuge. All your thoughts slow down while Eddie occupies all your senses.
“How do you feel?” he asks into the soft spot below your ear.
“Good… Sleepy.”
“M’ not saying I told you so—“
A chuckle tickles your skin and suddenly, a bolt of guilt and fear flashes through you. “But we can’t do this every time—“
“Hey!” He lifts his head to look at you, presses a finger to your lips. “Shhh… Don’t go there,” he says and puts his forehead to yours. “Come back… come back to me. I got you.”
“I’m here.”
“You just have to let me in…” He kisses you like he’s sacred you could vanish from beneath him and you swear you can feel his heartbeat reach out for yours, swear you can feel it pound against your chest like it’s begging for entry.
“M’ sorry,” you whisper and sling your arms around his shoulders. “I’m trying.”
And then he moves, slowly pulling his cock from inside you—
“Eddie?”
and stretches long across the bed to grab the book right off the edge.
“On your side,” he instructs and manhandles you into position before you can comply on your own and slides back into your cunt before you can process what’s happening.
“Fuck… oh fuck…” you moan as quick deep thrusts hit just the right spot over and over. You can hear the rustling of pages behind you and Eddie’s chest retreats from your back. “W-what are y- ah you…?”
‘It was not much more than a tall man’s height now…’ he reads the first line from page 622. You try to turn to look at him but he pushes you back. “Nu-uh, relax. M’ going to read to you and I’m going to fuck you till you pass out and maybe then you’ll think of waking me sooner the next time you pick up this book in the dead of night.”
You moan and laugh and there are tears in the corner of your eyes. “You trying to condition me?”
There’s no answer, he just keeps reading; shakily, punctuated in the quick rhythm of his thrusts and laced with moans of his own. You just close your eyes and let go and soon enough you’re close to the edge again.
’We are famisshed, yes famisshed we are, precious,…” he croaks in a toned down, breathy Gollum impression that’s highly confusing and you clutch the sheet, pulling it loose.
“Shit… you gonna make me come…”
After a few more lines he stops reading and you hear the book drop. Eddie presses close to you, softly bites your shoulder while a hand wanders down between your legs to play with your clit.
‘Yess, yess, nice water,’ said Gollum,’ he continues from memory.
“Oh, you asshole,” you groan.
‘Drink it, drink it, while we can! But what is it they’ve got, precious? Is it crunchable? Is it… tasty?’
One strangled moan falls from your mouth and then your insides tense violently. Eddie mercilessly fucks you through it and beyond and doesn’t slow down until he coaxes another orgasm out of you. He follows you this time. You feel him pulse and twitch deep inside of you, feel his hot breath on your shoulder and neck and one stray tear escape the corner of your eye. It runs down the side of your nose while you listen to both your mismatched breathing slow down again.
“I fucking love you,” you babble groggily. “So much… so much…”
Eddie places a kiss on the back of your head and picks the book back up, resuming where he left off. He stays inside you while he softens until he slips out. The distinction between characters fades, the gaps between words grow longer but you barely register it; it’s the sound of his voice that pulls you under into the depths of Morpheus’ realm and you’re finally ready to descend completely…
‘Look here!’ Sam whispered to Frodo, not too softly: he did not really care whether Gollum heard him or not. ‘We’ve got to get some Sleep—' Eddie pauses. “Precious? You asleep?”
Your slow, even breathing is all the answer he gets. He carefully reaches over you and drops the book on the mattress before he turns off the light and wraps his arm around you.
“Gonna find you in my dreams,” he whispers into your shoulder and follows you into sleep.
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Trailer park Steve AU part 17
part 1 | part 16 | ao3
Heat rolls through Steve’s gut; low and quick, a vicious flare, and then he coughs and looks away. “Jesus, man," he splutters, "learn to take a joke.”
“Mmm-hm.” Eddie's smug smirk spreads wide, grows teeth; gotcha bitch, and Steve’s about to tell him to fuck off when he claps his hands to his thighs and abruptly stands up. Does a big stretch, swinging his arms out side to side, reaching overhead until his back makes a noise like a twisted sheet of bubble wrap.
“Holy shit!” Steve frowns. “You’re gonna break your spine.”
Eddie gives him a flippant smile. “That's the idea. Anyway...” He pretzels himself up again, groaning as his neck and shoulders pop. “Seeing as we’re trapped in here for the foreseeable future, you wanna do what the little psychos asked? Play twenty questions or have a heart-to-heart or whatever?”
“Seriously? And just give them what they want?”
Eddie shrugs. “Seems like the fastest way out of here, so yeah.”
“We don’t negotiate with terrorists.”
“Please. You negotiate with them all the time." He folds forward at the hips, looking at Steve upside down between his legs, and twists a curl around his pinky. "Those kids have you wrapped around their grubby little fingers."
"They do not!"
"They totally do. Besides," he swings back upright, "I’ll negotiate with anyone if it gets me back home to my girl.”
"Oh." Steve stumbles at that. "Didn't know you had a girlfriend.”
Eddie laughs big and bright, shaking his hair all over the place. “Yeah, Harrington, I have a girlfriend. You're funny. Y'know, Henderson could have saved us a lot of time here if he'd just told me you were fun—”
“Okay, then who’s your girl?” Steve interrupts with a huff, because Eddie’s just hopping around in circles while he laughs like Steve's a fucking moron for making a totally reasonable assumption, and he doesn't understand what's so goddamn funny about it.
“My girl, Harrington,” he all but coos when he collects himself, “is my guitar.” He bites his lip and mimes playing a riff; Steve doesn’t know shit about guitar, but he knows that Eddie’s fingers are quick, nimble and impressive as they jitter through the air. “We’ve got a show this weekend. Like, a real one this time, not just playing to three drunks at the Hideout.”
“Cool,” Steve says, looking away from his rings. “Congrats, man. You any good?”
“You could say that.” Eddie’s mouth goes smug and pleased, genuine pride shining in his big eyes when he rocks back on his heels. “The frat that booked us seems to think so, anyway.”
“Oh, shit!" Now Steve's impressed, because it's the weekend before Halloween, and that means, "College costume party.”
“Of course you’d be excited about that.”
“Hey, great place to get laid,” Steve shrugs.
Eddie chokes on his own spit. “You’re kind of a slut, you know that?”
“Rude,” Steve says mildly. He's not a slut; he's an opportunist.
The ground's starting to hurt his ass, so he stands up to join Eddie's impromptu yoga session. Eddie leans a hip against the workbench, folding his arms over his chest and giving Steve room to move.
His eyes flit to his hemline when it rides up on a stretch. "Would you..." he clears his throat. "Would you want to come?"
"Huh?" Steve twists around.
"To the show," Eddie adds, ducking his head to hide his face behind his hair. "You'd have to cram into the back with Frankie and the drum kit, but uh..."
Steve lets himself picture it for a moment, some alternate dimension where he's allowed to say yes: the winding highway to Indy, a van full of dudes cracking jokes and fighting over who gets to pick the music next, losing himself in the thrum of a crowd while he drinks and dances and watches Eddie on stage.
His throat feels tight, suddenly. He reaches for the flask and takes another sip of whiskey. "Don't all your bandmates hate me?"
"I mean... not any more than I do." Eddie's answer is quiet, his eyes swimming with candlelight; Steve doesn't know when they moved closer, when a hush settled over the room, but it feels like...
"Yeah?" he hedges, his voice barely above a whisper. Then he steps out onto the ledge; icy cliffside, slippery holds. The mountains are so much scarier than the deep sea. "And how... How much is that?"
His pulse kicks in his chest. Echoes down to his wrist, a nervous current beneath his skin. Eddie's eyes are so soft. Big and brown and dark. Dark like the deep woods; endless; sort of mesmerizing.
"Steve, I—"
The cellar doors shriek on their hinges.
—
part 18
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Take It
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Unsub!Spencer Reid
Description: Spencer has plans of keeping your night going. Now it’s your turn to make it up to him.
Content/Warnings: Gagging, hair pulling, oral (m rec), face fucking
Word Count: 1.1K
Kinktober Day Twenty Two: Face Fucking
Part two to Day Twenty
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
“Why don’t we keep this going, hmm?”
You were unsure of what to say as you let your mouth fall open at the mere idea. Were you really about to go on with his sick delusions and games? It was difficult to say no, your pussy aching for more after the starter course that Spencer had given to you.
You didn’t get to answer as he helped lift you, only offering a grin as he was nudging you to get on your knees for him. “There we go. See, you’re such a good girl when you follow directions. I bet you’re dying to see my cock, aren’t you?” You didn’t want to say that you were but your head was nodding anyway, going against your wishes.
“I knew you’d be a whore.” He smirked, hand now gripping tightly to your chin as he was making you look him in the eye. The normal pretty honey colored eyes were blown out with lust, every friendly aspect behind those eyes long gone. This was how he wanted you, exposed and on your knees. He’d deal with your shirt later but right now, he was happy to see you on your knees, pussy juices surely running down your thighs from your climax earlier as well as the slick from arousal your body was supplying you with. As his hands were working to get his pants pulled down, Spencer had them down to his ankles as he was working on his boxers as well. Your eyes were widening the minute your eyes caught sight of his cock as it smacked against his stomach. You could feel drool running from your mouth, causing the male above you to chuckle. “Come on, feel free to touch. Good girls deserve it.” He winked, watching as your hand was hesitantly gripping the hardened shaft, hand slowly dragging along with it as your eyes were focused on him.
He was beautiful, hooded over eyes fixated on you as he let one hand move to grip your hair. “Come on. Don’t leave me waiting. I didn’t do that to you, did I?” He asked, an eyebrow raising. No, he didn’t. So you were diving in, tongue swiping over the thick tip of his cock while collecting a few beads of precum that were slipping from his slit. “Fuck. That’s it.” He urged her to continue, prompting her to let her lips wrap around the tip of his cock now. You took her time as you massaged the skin with your tongue, cheeks hollowing as you were suckling and just trying to enjoy your time while savoring the cock in you mouth.
Spencer wasn’t having that though.
Without warning, your head was pushing shoved down onto his cock, your hands quickly gripping his thighs for support as you gagged around the shaft in your mouth, not even fully taking him and already you were choking. He didn’t show you much courtesy, pulling you off briefly to let you breathe, watching the spit from his cock connect with your mouth from a long line of saliva. “Picture perfect. Fuck.” He growled, which wasn’t something you’d expected.
However, you weren’t given much time to say anything before you were shoved down on his cock again. This time though, he wasn’t as kind as he kept your head in place. “Come on. You can take it. I know you can. Breathe out of your nose.” He murmured, which you’d complied with that much, using your nose to breathe and try to relax your throat as his hand was using your hair to guide your movements.
As your head bobbed along his cock, your eyes were closing as your tongue was flat on the underside, tracing a vein stretching the throbbing shaft as he was using you as if you were a human fleshlight. His foot had moved between your thighs, chuckling. “Rub that needy cunt on my shoe, I can tell your clenching your thighs together.” He chuckled, lifting his foot up to bump against your clit as the electricity shot through your body.
While his cock was making a brutal assault on your throat, you were reduced to gags and whimpers as your hips rocked against the boots he had on. You were soaked and desperate for anything. However you knew that you had to play his game now. That’s the only way to get what you want in the end. “Fuck. How does it feel to be used? I bet you love it, don’t you? Choking on my cock gets that pretty pussy soaked, didn’t take you for a girl who likes to be roughed up but I’ll take what I can get for sure.” He chuckled darkly, watching as his cock disappeared down your throat as he was shoving your head down more.
At this point, your nose was brushing against his pubic bone as you were tearing up from having to swallow his full shaft, something you didn’t think was possible. It was pitiful how much you enjoyed this, how much you relished in the attention of a man who made it known he’d been stalking you. You should’ve called the police but instead you were sucking his cock while he was roughly thrusting into your mouth, surely bruising your throat in the process. There were no hopes of you being able to talk in a clear voice after this.
“I’m gonna cum.” Spencer’s breathing was shaky, his thrusts in your mouth growing sloppy as he was roughly tugging on your hair to elicit a moan to fall from your lips as your were digging into his shoe even more now, letting the laces of the boot rub against your desperate clit as your slick was coating the shoe. You were meeting his thrusts the best you could as you were bobbing your head, your goal to bring him to climax.
It wasn’t long until you were nearly choking as he was shooting his cum down your throat without warning, his hand shoving your head down more as he was emptying his heavy balls into your mouth and making you swallow everything. The warm cum had your body shivering, his foot eventually moving from between your legs and leaving you desperate as he pulled his cock out of your mouth.
“I can see why your ex came around a lot. Best throat and pussy I’ve ever came across. Can’t believe you’re all mine.” He sighed in content while resting his hand against your cheek. “Get up off the floor sweetness.” He instructed, making you quickly follow his orders. However, your heart shattered when he kissed your forehead. “I have to get going for the rest of the night. Heard my phone going off like crazy earlier, which means there’s a case.”
“You better be ready for me when I get back though. Cause I promise that pussy is mine and I intend on making it well known.”
#spencer reid#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid fandom#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid smut#doctor spencer reid#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds smut#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid imagine#strawbeerossi kinktober 2023#unsub spencer reid
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Hiii, discovered your fics on AO3 and they’re very my jam! If you’re still taking requests, could I suggest something where Jason rescues you, an angsty hurt/comfort? Maybe they’re pining for each-other and maybe confront/confess their feelings, or are already together, up to you.
No worries if not 😊😊 Thanks for the good words ❤️🖤
Hey I know you! Thanks for leaving nice comments over yonder 🥰 Idk if I really delivered on this prompt but I hope you like it anyway lol 😅 I combined this prompt with another I received about Jason and the reader fighting before the reader is hurt/kidnapped.
jason todd x fem!reader. tw: creepy men, crime alley, injured reader, jason shoots people (🎶whatta mighty good man🎶)
****
"If you don't know who this is, you shouldn't be fucking calling. Leave a message after the beep or whatever."
Beeeep!
"Jay, it's me. Can we please talk? You can't ignore me forever. I want us to fix this. I—" You swallow hard. "I miss you."
You sigh, rubbing your forehead as you think of what to say. You've already left three unanswered messages. There's no more for you to say. You just want things to be fixed.
You want your best friend back.
"Okay. Call me when you can."
You hang up and pocket your phone.
The fight was stupid. Jason doesn't respond well to being pushed, but you pushed him anyway. You wanted to know where he disappeared to at night. You were sick of the secrets, of always feeling like you were three steps behind, left in the dark.
If you really cared about me, you would tell me where you go.
Jason had stilled, expression cold.
I don't owe you anything.
Your voice had turned wobbly then.
Jay, don't I mean anything to you? I want you to trust me, I want this to be a normal friendship!
He'd put on his jacket and collected the few things he left in your apartment.
You're right. You deserve normal.
You haven't spoken since. At first, you thought Jason left for a few hours to cool down. So you gave him space.
But then hours turned to days, and now it's been a full week and a half since you'd fought. Last night, you broke down and cried. This is it. You've lost him for good.
Part of you fears the reality is darker than him just leaving. You've long suspected that whatever Jason goes out to do is probably illegal since he's always out at night.
What if you're called down to the police station to identify a body?
All those things left unsaid. Jason will never know you love him.
Screw this. You're going to his apartment.
It's late. It's really late, and this is actually not the best idea to carry out at eight o'clock at night in Crime Alley. There's a reason Jason always insists on hanging out at your apartment or at a cafe.
A man whistles at you down the street. "Goin' somewhere, girlie?"
This was a bad idea. Jason might be the one who has to ID a body tonight.
You can't remember which of these apartments is his. But you can't call him. He can't know you're here, not yet.
"You shouldn't be here, lady!" a kid shouts at you from a fire escape. "He don't like new people on his turf!"
You don't take the time to figure out who the kid means. Crime Alley is known for, well, crime. The sooner you can locate Jason's apartment, the better.
A group of men light cigarettes down the road. You pause and turn around. In the process, you stumble over a garbage can.
That instantly draws their attention.
"Well, what have we here?" one jeers. "You lost, sweetie?"
You run.
You don't care if it makes you look afraid—you are afraid, and you're beyond caring. You shouldn't have come here.
You turn abruptly. You have no idea where you're going, but maybe if you act like you do, you'll throw them off. You take another turn, then another, and you look behind you to check if—
Wham!
You crash into a body. A muscled body, one that forces you backwards.
White, glowing eyes that smolder inside a red helmet meet your own.
Jason's never warned you about the Red Hood. He just tells you to stay away from the area altogether. You don't really need to be warned about Hood anyway. You know what he's about. You know you've probably just sealed your fate tonight.
"What the fuck?" he asks, modulated voice rough.
"I'm sorry," you babble. "Please don't hurt m—"
Gunshots ring out, and you realize you've just stumbled into an active gunfight. With Red Hood.
Fuck your luck.
The gunmen have spotted you, and they take great pleasure in using you as a distraction; they fire at you instead of Hood.
He shields you with his body, blocking the bullets. It works until a flash grenade is thrown, and you're separated from Hood, ears ringing. You hit the ground hard from the impact, scraping your hands and arms.
Someone's arm wraps around your neck, and you're suddenly dragged backward. You scream, scratching at the arm, and a fist thumps your head. You blink at the pain, too dazed to keep fighting.
"We had a deal, Hood!" your captor shouts, arm tightening around your neck. "Let us go or she dies!"
"Negation's over," Red Hood snarls, and shoots all four men.
You cry as the shot echoes too close to your face and for a moment, you fear you've been shot too. The now dead man slips off of you, collapsing in a heap on the ground.
Your ankle protests when you step on it. In the chaos of the fight, you hadn't realized you sprained it. You trip and fall on your butt, scrambling away from the pooling blood.
"What are you doing here?" Hood growls at you, stalking closer.
You start to cry, edging backward.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your fight, please d-don't kill me—"
You press down hard on your wrist and that hurts more than your ankle. You cry harder at the pain, grabbing your wrist.
Red Hood gets closer, and you try to scramble away with one arm and one leg. He kneels down and holds your good arm in place so you can't move.
"I'm sorry!" you say again, tears thick on your lashes.
"Fuck," Hood says roughly, and unlocks his helmet.
Your eyes widen as he pulls it off.
"J—"
"I told you to never come to this area, and you come alone, in the fucking dark, without a weapon? What the hell is wrong with you?" Jason snarls.
"Please don't yell at me," you whisper, covering your face with your hands.
You're shaking, adrenaline turning your stomach. A moment later, you throw up.
"Shit," Jason says and puts a hand on your stomach to help you sit back up. "Shit, I'm an asshole. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell."
"I thought you died," you say, daring to look at him. "You weren't answering my calls, and you only go out at night. I thought..."
Jason immediately looks avalanched by guilt. He cradles you to his chest.
"Fuck. I'm sorry. I should've—I thought it would be better, leaving."
"I didn't want you to leave," you cry, arms curling around his neck. "I love you so much, Jay. I was so scared. Don't leave me again."
Jason's breath hitches. You freeze, suddenly sure you've screwed it all up.
"Jay—"
"Y'love me?" he asks, cupping your cheek.
You nod emphatically.
"Even though I'm..." He gestures to the helmet.
"I'm just happy you're alive," you say. "I missed you so much, Jason."
His arms tighten around you. "God, I missed you too, baby. I was going crazy not talking to you. I'm sorry I ignored you. Wasn't right of me. But don't ever do this again, okay? If I hadn't been here—"
He takes a shuddering breath and kisses your neck. You nod against his shoulder.
"I promise. Just don't shut me out again, please."
Jason's quiet for a moment. You can feel him thinking.
"This isn't gonna be normal," he says. "If-if we do this. This is part of me. Who I am."
"I don't care," you say. "I love you, Jay. Every part. Whatever that entails."
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd fanfiction#red hood x reader#red hood x you#batman fanfiction#dc fanfiction#i do notttt like how this one came out but im lowkey struggling to write this week so. oh well 😔#inbox#blurb
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To be loved.
A fix-it of sorts to that moment in Sharess’ Caress with the drow twins. Includes a tiny amount of Halsin.
Astarion x F!Tav
Angst, comfort, and smut.
Read on AO3.
Masterlist.
Thanks to @elora-the-slutty-songstress for the opportunity to take on this idea!
I first noticed it whilst Nym was tongue deep in me. I had been watching Astarion pound into Sorn, and it had been a majestic sight. My hand grips Halsin’s hair quickly, a gesture for him to stop sucking on my nipples and watch.
The druid lets out a soft, questioning groan as he lifts his head up to meet my gaze. Halsin’s chest heaves, and he takes a moment to tamper down his arousal before he speaks.
“Yes, my heart?” he asks. I nod over at Sorn and Astarion.
“I think we need to stop this right now.”
Halsin follows my gaze. He notices it too, that blankness in Astarion’s face as he drives his hips again and again into Sorn. It had been three weeks or so after Cazador’s demise, and ever since that night in the graveyard, Astarion had seemed fine. I had even slept with Halsin once, a decision I wasn't sure was the best, in all honesty, but Astarion had taken it all with a grace and acceptance that made me fall all the more in love with him.
“Sorn. Nym.” Halsin’s voice breaks through the sounds of sex - the ragged breaths, moans, and slapping of flesh. “I would very much appreciate it if I could get a moment with you two alone,” he says. The twins raise their eyebrows, surprised at the sudden change in plans, but I nod at Nym as she lifts her head up from between my legs, and with my approval they both move off to approach Halsin.
Sorn takes one look at Astarion and moves away. For a second, Astarion’s hips pump into air, as it takes him a bit to realize Sorn had moved. Astarion blinks, twice, then his eyes sharpen.
“What in the hells-“ he begins to say, then notices the twins arm in arm with Halsin. He also notices me looking at him with an expression that told him I was concerned for him. He sighs. He had ruined it, yet again.
Halsin puts an arm around each twin. “Come, and let’s get a larger room than this. We’ll need it if you two are to see my ursine trick.” At those words, the drow are immediately convinced, and I watch them as the three quickly put on clothes and make their way out of this room and into the adjacent one.
Halsin gives me one last look before he does. Make sure he’s okay.
I nod, and then as the door shuts, finally turn my attention to Astarion.
He sits on his knees, and as I approach he opens his arms to let me in. I hug him tightly.
“I thought you wanted to have some fun,” he murmurs into the crook of my neck. I shake my head.
“Not when you’re not having fun, Astarion. And before you say anything - I can tell.”
That shuts down his attempt to deflect, and he lets his mouth hang open. We two both pull away from the hug, and he takes a moment to collect his thoughts.
“It felt like a good idea to try, but I think I may have bitten off more than I could handle at the moment,” he says quietly. “Halsin is one thing, but having even more people..”
“I’m sorry,” I say, and I take his hand, squeezing it gently. I want to hold him tight and shield him from the world, from his own mind, but I know I cannot. And that I should not, unless that is what he wants.
Astarion considers the room, his eyes scanning it. He then considers his own cock, laying there against his lap, still half-hard. It did feel good, and he did want to do something.
“Ban,” he says. “It would be a waste to have paid for this room, and not to fully use it, don’t you think?” He tries to smirk, his hands flying to my waist, tugging me close.
“We can afford to lose the gold. It’s not a big deal,” is my reply. I try to be careful, knowing that he might just be doing this to please me. I put both hands on his shoulders, meeting his gaze. “You don’t have to do anything. We can just go.”
He frowns, then shakes his head. “No, I.. I do think I want to do something. At least, something with you. Just you.” He swallows past a small lump in his throat. “After all, I ruined it,” he adds in a small mumble, spoken so softly I barely can hear it.
“Just - no.” I shake my head at him. “Astarion, look at me.” The sternness is back in my face as I cup his cheek. “You did not ruin it. This was the point of it all. To have fun, sure, but more importantly, to see how you were doing. You tried, you saw that it was too much, and that is that. If you want more, if you truly want more - that can be arranged. But I do not want you to do it just to placate me or whatever other messed up idea you have. Okay?”
As I speak, I see his expression soften. He realizes he’s safe here, he’s heard, and that makes him calm down and let his walls down. The apprehension is replaced with a genuine smile, and he covers my hand on his cheek with his own, feeling my knuckles.
“Okay, darling,” he acknowledges. “I still do want you, though.” He looks down between his legs, giving his half-hard cock a glance. Then he drags his eyes across my body, from my mound all the way up to my breasts, and finally my face. His expression says it all - says that he’s still hungry and wanting.
“Use your words, my love,” I say, my hand leaving his cheek to rest on his chest. My other hand moves down to grip his waist, my thumb tracing circles on his obliques. “What do you want? I need specifics.”
“I want.. to be loved,” he whispers, his eyes boring into mine. “I want to be pleasured, to feel you want my pleasure as much as you want yours.”
I laugh. “Easy. I’ve always felt that way.” I know that even with his countless sexual encounters, he barely got off. “I’ll make you come so hard you’ll forget your own name. How does that sound?”
“Sounds wonderful, my love,” he says, his voice dropping into a purr. He moves off of his knees, and shuffles backwards until he’s sitting at the top of the bed, his back to the headboard. As I crawl towards him, he wraps a hand around his cock and strokes a few times, just to bring it back up.
My hand covers his, and I stop him. “Let me,” I whisper. I sit between his spread legs, one hand on his cock and the other reaching up to stroke the planes of his pectoral muscles. I feel them flex as he reacts to my touch, as his cock twitches in my grasp. He lets out a shaky exhale, his eyes falling shut.
“Just enjoy the feeling,” I murmur. “Tell me how good my hand feels on you.” I stroke him from the root to tip, swiping my thumb at the tip to capture the precum, and spreading it along his whole length as I stroke back down. He’s leaking, his cock feeling exquisitely hard and warm on my palm. The pink flush on its tip almost makes me want to rush it and just sit on it, but I hold myself back. This isn’t for me.
Astarion doesn’t speak. He lets his body tell me instead, his hips canting upwards involuntarily to fuck my hand. His hands grip the sheets, and a small whimper escapes him. He’s incredibly present, and every moment drags like eternity in his mind. Finally, he finds his words.
“More,” he groans. “Please.”
“Of course.” I shift to lean down on him, and lick the tip, swiping my tongue over his slit to taste him. His musk, mixed with the salty precum and the heady scent of arousal are almost overwhelming. He hisses as I lick him, the surprise of the sensation making his hips buck hard. I smile and then move my mouth over him, taking in the head. My tongue presses against his frenulum, feeling the ridges there. My hand keeps stroking at the base, and I work to sync my hand with my mouth’s movements.
That move earns a whine from those delectable lips. His hand moves from the sheets to grip my hair instead, pushing me down deeper against his cock. Astarion’s hips roll, the rhythm uneven and desperate, seeking the heat and wetness of my mouth more than anything else. The wet, obscene sounds drive him closer and closer to the edge, and his ears flush pink as he fights the urge to come right then and there. His eyes still remain closed, enjoying the sensation - enjoying being loved.
I let him fuck my mouth for a few minutes, letting his hand on my hair and his hips dictate the pace. The small whines that come from his mouth make me squeeze my own thighs, and I realize I’m soaking wet too. I hum for a moment, and then pull him out of my mouth with a wet popping sound. “Did you want to come like this? Or-”
My words are cut short as Astarion grabs me by the shoulders, pulling me up to straddle him and to catch me in a crushing kiss. His lips part, his tongue seeking out mine, tasting himself. After a moment, he breaks the kiss, meeting my gaze. His eyes are dilated, but the expression is as tender as I’ve ever seen it. The hunger still lies there, but love overwhelms it.
“I want to come inside you,” he says, the words a request voiced as though it were something I could say no to. I nod, and the moment I do his index and middle fingers find my clit and flick it playfully. I hiss, and he moves those two fingers to my entrance, plunging them in. His thumb replaces their spot on my clit, rubbing in circles.
“So wet, darling,” he whispers, leaning in close so that I can feel his breath against my ear. “So ready for me.” His fingers speed up, the pace insistent and forceful, his thumb flicking against my clit with merciless speed. My hips start bucking, fucking myself on his fingers.
“Say it,” he growls, a little bit of that old aggression creeping into his tone. “Say you want me inside you. Say you want me to fuck you, Ban.”
“Fuck me, Astarion. I want your cock inside me. I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t think straight.”
He chuckles, a small, dark sound.
“It would be my pleasure,” he murmurs. He moves his hand off of my weeping cunt, hands grabbing me and lifting me up. In one smooth move, he aims himself against my entrance and lowers me onto his cock, burying himself to the root in me.
I groan as I feel him impaling me, feeling my walls spread to welcome him home. There is no resistance whatsoever; I’m so wet that his length slides in effortlessly. He gasps at the sensation, and we both stay still for a moment, trying to adjust to the feeling before we begin to move.
I move to grasp his shoulders, bracing myself. I move my hips, riding him. My goal is his pleasure, and I am relentless in my attempt to reach just that. Astarion sucks in a breath at the sensation, and his hips hitch for a second, until he manages to figure out my rhythm and match himself to it. His hand goes back to my clit, flicking it with just the right amount of pressure and speed.
His eyes meet mine, and he smiles. “Ride me harder, my love,” he says, and I do so, slamming down harder with every thrust of my hips. The sound of our flesh coming together is drowned out by my own moaning and his, as he slowly loses what little control he had.
Astarion’s breaths come with little whimpers, all semblance of coherency gone now. For once, he has no need to seduce or play a role to get what he wants. It is given, freely, and he relishes it. The hand not on my clit moves to pull my head to his, to touch foreheads.
“I’m close,” he whispers softly. He’s at the very edge, and I can feel his cock twitching inside me as he fights the urge to come. I’m close too, but I would rather him finish first.
I meet his gaze, and our faces are so close the only thing I can see is the crimson of his eyes. I can feel his breath brush over my face as he pants desperately.
“Come for me, Astarion. Give me your seed,” I finally say, and as I do I press my lips against his parted ones. He lets out a loud groan, his hips frantically pumping as he rides out his orgasm. I keep kissing him through it, feeling him coat my insides and fill me up. The fingers he has on my clit lose their rhythm, falling still as he finally lets go.
I wait patiently for him to come to his senses, still riding him, but with a lot more gentleness to my movements. He finally blinks, twice, then takes in a sharp breath.
“That- that was,” he begins, then realizes he doesn’t have the words for it. But it’s okay. He knows I know. He takes a moment, registers where his fingers were, and then realizes.
“Your turn, darling.” He lifts his fingers up to wet them with his saliva, licking and tasting me on them. Then he reaches back down, fingers rubbing and flicking my clit in the way only he knew how. “Do you want it like this, or do you want my mouth?” Astarion offers, his smirk telling me he knew exactly what I wanted.
“Mouth, but I don’t think I’d last in any-” I begin to say, but he laughs and taps my waist, a sign for me to get up. I do so all too quickly, moving off of his now softening cock and laying back down on the bed. As I do, I look down at my cunt, seeing how his spend was spread all over it. He had filled me to the brim.
He looks too, a hungry and amused expression on his face as he moves to position his head between my legs.
“Now that,” he whispers, “is a sight to behold and taste.”
Without another word, he moves down and starts suckling on my clit. His tongue flicks against it as he does, the tip of it insistent and warm.
That coaxes out a moan from me, a soft “Astarion,” as his mouth brings me ever closer to my own climax. He smiles at the sound of his name, and continues his work, his tongue shifting to lap at my cunt instead, starting from my entrance up to my clit.
I’m there, and I let out a strangled gasp to warn him. He takes his cue, and refocuses his attention where it matters most. His lips wrap around my bud again, providing suction and his tongue flicking lazily.
I come, yet again with his name on my lips, and for a moment I lose control of my legs. They jerk, squeezing tightly against his head. I feel myself squirt, gushing against his lips. He laps it all up eagerly, groaning with every pass his tongue makes against my cunt.
As I come down to reality, Astarion lifts his head up and smirks at me. He makes a show of wiping his glistening mouth and chin on the back of his hand, licking off the excess.
“Delicious as always, darling,” he says, but there is a lot more tenderness there than anything else.
I smile softly, and beckon him closer into my arms. He does as asked, laying down with me and placing his head on my chest.
“Did that help?” I ask. “Did it make you feel the way you wanted to feel?”
Hidden from the world, he smiles against my chest.
“You always do, love.” He looks up at me, and I realize it is one of those rare moments where he seems to be at peace.
“Thank you.”
Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @tragedybunny @elora-the-slutty-songstress
#astarion#astarion baldurs gate#baldurs gate astarion#bg3#astarion x mc#astarion x tav#astarion x you#pale elf#astarion fic#astarion x reader#astarion ancunin#bg3 astarion#astarion bg3#baldurs gate tav#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate#baldurs gate#baldurs gate iii#baldur's gate iii#astarion smut#bg3 smut#bg3 fic#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 tav#astarion fanfic#bg3 spoilers#astarion romance#astarion angst#astarion fluff
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.
Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut
Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore
Chapter Word Count: 1762
—-MDNI—-
A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.
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I'm Not Your F*cking Maid
Please read Prologue before starting.
Chapter 1
I sat in the window booth at the typical sleepy diner, tapping my fingers on the sticky wooden table and checking the time on my phone every minute. She was late. She was never late. And now I’m getting worried. I’m sure she’s fine, I had convinced myself as I reached for my backpack and pulled out an old tome on burial rights over various different cultures. I might as well read to distract myself whilst I wait for her to arrive. I try to relax into the monotone ambience of the room, and just as I get settled into the scrawling text on the ancient pages, a growling engine pulling up outside draws my gaze away from the long paragraph on ‘Cremation’. I return my attention back to the book after a second as the engine ticks over outside for a few more beats before being turned off. The waitress returns to my table to collect the empty beer bottle I’d drained when I first arrived; she smiled and asked if she could get me anything.
“Just another one of those please,” I smiled back, hearing the bell ring as the front door opened and my gaze jumped from the waitress to Charlie as she came skipping towards where I was sitting, sliding into the booth opposite me.
“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I’m late, I had an errand to run and it took waaaayyy longer than expected.”
“It’s ok, I was starting to get a little worried so I’m just glad you’re alright….” I felt my voice trail off as I felt the booth cushion dip as someone sat next to me. I whipped my head around and came nose-to-nose with a man I’d never met before; with the most enticing green eyes I’d ever gazed into and annoyingly kissable lips pulling into a devilish smirk. Just as those lips parted to speak, I blurted out without thinking:
“Who the fuck are you?”
He blinked in slight shock, and paused like he was rethinking what he was going to say. He opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted a second time.
“Dean, don’t sit so close,” another man, who I didn’t even realise was there, had sat down next to Charlie. He was taller, with impressive hair and softer features than this Dean guy, who was practically sitting in my lap and eyeing me up and down. Dean gave this other man a look as if to say ‘shut up’, before turning to me once more, devilish grin back in place. He opened his mouth to speak a third time right as the waitress returned with my beer.
“Here you are,” she said sweetly, not knowing she was interrupting as Dean threw his hands up in defeat at not being able to get a word in, slumping back in the chair. The waitress put the bottle down in front of me.
“Can I get anything for your friends?” She looked around the table and before either of the men could answer, Charlie jumped in;
“Three very strong coffees please.”
Dean huffed, “Oh so I can’t even order a beer?”
“You two boys have been living on pizza and beer for God knows how long. At least drink something that contains some water,” Charlie quipped, looking at them both like they were naughty children. She sighed when she realised they looked slightly ashamed of themselves. “Anyway, (Y/n), this is Sam and Dean. I know you’ve been looking for work and these two might be able to help. They’re good friends of mine and they’re-“
“Hunters,” I interrupted, feeling my blood start to run cold, “yeah I know who they are. Winchesters,” the name felt bitter on my tongue, like poison.
They must have noticed the change of tone in my voice because the table went quiet, even the mischievous glint seemed to have gone from Deans gaze as he looked at me with intrigue. Annoyed at myself for not realising who they were sooner, I grabbed my backpack and unzipped it, packing away my book. I stood up and glared down at Dean, about to bark at him to move when Charlie grabbed my wrist.
“(Y/n) what’s wrong? What are you doing? Please don’t go, we…they could really use your help right now.”
“And why should I? They’re the reason I’m struggling in the first place,” I paused, staring down at the two men who now had dark, ashamed expressions cloaking their features, almost like this wasn’t the first time they’d heard this side of the story where they weren’t always the hero’s. “They’re the reason my family is dead, and I’m all alone.” More silence hung over the booth like a dark cloud. It was Sam who spoke up after a minute or so, genuine sorrow in his eyes.
“(Y/n) I’m so, so sorry. Who-”
“Bobby Singer.”
The Winchester brothers shot each other a stunned look.
“B-Bobby?” Sam stuttered whilst Deans eyes widened. He looked like he’d taken a blow to the chest and had the air knocked from his lungs, “We didn’t know he had any living relatives…”
“He was my uncle,” Deans jaw clenched, “And you guys didn’t know because he knew I’d end up being used against him. I collected books for him to help you guys on all your bullshit missions, so haven’t I already helped you enough? Don’t you owe me some peace?” I threw my bag on the floor and picked up my beer, taking several gulps before slamming it back onto the table before continuing, the words just spilling out. “He was my only living relative for as long as I can remember. So fuck you guys for taking him away from me.”
“We loved Bobby,” Dean spoke suddenly in a grave tone and his gaze went dark as he stood up to face me. His tall form with strong, broad shoulders loomed over my much smaller stature, one of his fingers jabbing into my chest.
“Dean-” Sam started but was silenced by a wave of Deans other hand.
“You can get down off your high fucking horse if you think that you’re the only family that he had. You weren’t. He raised us more than our own father did, and I’ll be damned if I don’t think about him every day and wish he was here. You’re not the only one grieving him so stop acting like a precious little bitch and grow up,” Deans voice grew louder and more pissed as he spoke, and with every word he spoke he got closer and closer until he was right in my face, our noses almost touching. My heart rate was starting to pick up and I could feel the anger start to boil in my veins. Without missing a beat I threw my fist out and punched him in the face, making him stumble out of the booth and into the aisle in the diner. I heard gasps around me but didn’t look up. When the anger in my veins didn’t fade with the single punch, I didn’t give him a chance to gain his composure as I tackled him, making him fall on his back as I straddled him, my knees gripping his hips as I began punching him again and again right in that stupid face of his. Charlie and Sam seemed to sit there in disbelief for a few seconds before springing into action and lifting me off the older Winchester brother. Sam held me back gently but firmly as Charlie helped Dean to his feet, handing him a napkin from the table for the blood pouring from his nose and lip.
“You crazy bitch!” Dean spat.
“Fuck you!” I tried to break free so I could slap him but Sam held me tight.
The whole diner had gone silent as they watched me lose my shit, some amused but most were horrified. It took a few more moments of silence before they all went back to what they were doing and Sam let go of me, watching me like I was a time bomb. I heard Charlie giggle quietly.
“Holy crap (Y/n) I had no idea you had that in you. I’m actually a little impressed, you were always so quiet.”
“What can I say,” I turned to glare at Dean “I learnt from the best,” as I turned away I heard him mutter under his breath.
“Yeah you aren’t the only one.”
For a second time I saw red, and before Sam could grab me I spun on my heel and threw my fist out. CRACK.
*
The car doors slammed closed next to me after I was crammed into the back of Deans car. It wouldn’t have been that bad - the seats were oh so plush - if it wasn’t for the handcuffs tight round my wrists and duct tape across my lips. Oh, and that my thigh was rubbing up against the man that I had just assaulted. Dean was in the same situation with the handcuffs and the tape, his long legs having to spread wide so he can fit in the back of his own car. I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my face as I watched Sam and Charlie apologising to the diner staff through the front window. I was trying to find any sort of distraction right now, as Deans body temperature was hot and I could feel it through both his jeans and mine as he pressed into me. He was starting to make me sweat a little. Luckily it wasn’t long before Charlie and Sam hopped into the car, Sam in the drivers seat. They both turned to face us, smiles of bewilderment on their faces as if they were still processing what had just happened. Sam spoke first.
“(Y/n) is now officially barred from that diner, and honestly they wanted to call the cops. Charlie managed to save your ass as she still had her FBI badge on her,” he shot her a look and she grinned.
“So because now, you technically owe me a debt of gratitude, you will be staying in the bunker with the boys and helping them with their research.” She chimed, like she had won a game. In the end they got what they wanted.
I groaned and rolled my eyes. Of course. I heard Dean huff next to me, and he sounded just as displeased as I did. To be honest at this point, that’s fair.
Although he had it coming.
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Up Next
Chapter 2
#dean x reader#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester#dean winchester smut#dean x you#dean x y/n#dean x female!reader
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Office Hours
Summary:
You really want to get Astarion back for making you feel so flustered, but as a result you find yourself in a bit of an uncomfortable position.
Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader
Rating: E
Word Count: 3.7k
Tags/Warnings: unprotected p in v sex, under-the-desk blowjobs, semi-public sex, vampire bites, modern au, college/university au, urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, poor gale doesn't deserve this
Oh shit she's writing? I had like six other things planned but I can't keep away from this world. Once again thank you @zipzoomzaria for the beautiful screenshots and also the inspo for Professor Astarion, and @aw11tht33tha for the beta!
You don't need to have read part 1 for this part to make sense, but it does help.
Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist
Ever since you slept with Astarion - or, perhaps more accurately, he fucked you mercilessly over his desk - you haven't been able to get him out of your head. It's been a little embarrassing, frankly. Every time you pass him in the hallway, a single glance over those round wire frames has you suppressing the moan that bubbles in your throat. One whiff of his fragrance and your pussy clenches in a Pavlovian response.
You're standing in front of your mailbox in the main office, reading some memo from the chair about season selection for next year. It's always a tedious process where no one can agree and you somehow all end up with shows you hate.
You smell him before you hear him, and you can feel your ears grow hot. He comes up behind you, standing closer than is probably necessary, and reaches above you to empty his own mailbox.
“Pardon,” he says politely, but you feel like he’s going out of his way to brush against you. A shiver runs down your spine as he very gently grazes the back of your neck while shuffling through the papers.
He turns and starts chatting amicably with Grace. How can he stay so cool when you're practically in shambles? You pretend that you're still reading the short memo just to collect yourself. When he finally leaves the main office, you manage to turn around and imitate some semblance of a normal person. Grace catches your eye and frowns.
“Are you feeling okay? You're looking a little flushed,” she asks, genuine concern coloring her voice. You twist your face into a smile, hoping that it reads like gratitude rather than annoyance.
“Yeah, I'm fine, thank you. Probably just a little dehydrated,” you say, putting a little extra rasp in your voice to sell your story.
“I’m about to leave for lunch, I can grab you something from the student union, if you're thirsty.” She smiles sweetly, fully unaware of the double entendre.
“I'm good, I have some water back in my office. I appreciate the offer, though.” The smile is now plastered to your face as you move to leave the office. You bump into Karlach while trying to make a hasty exit.
“Gods, soldier, you okay? You look like you just got out of a sauna.” She claps you on the shoulder and your knees buckle. The technical director had spent 10 years in the army, so you can't really fault her for the nickname, or the smack to the shoulder, for that matter.
“Just a little thirsty, is all,” you reply, continuing to scoot your way out of the office.
“Yeah ya are!” She points two finger guns at you and flashes a big suggestive smile. You freeze for a half second, then realize she’s making a generic lewd joke and not pointedly calling you out for your current condition. You awkwardly finger gun back as you finally slip through the doorway and book it to your office.
You sit down at your desk and grab your water bottle, taking a long sip. It's unbelievable how much of a hold he has on you. What you wouldn't give to be able to fluster him as much as he does you. Have him struggle for words. Make him look like an idiot in front of your colleagues.
You think back to your bathtub fantasy from a few days ago. You could not have predicted the dynamic more incorrectly. You really thought that you'd be the one in control, that you could have him coming undone for you. The image of him whimpering beneath you still sets your heart racing, though it can't be further from the truth. Your breath hitches slightly as the scenario plays out vividly in your mind, like your own personal erotica.
“It must be rather exciting, whatever's got your blood going that way.” His sultry voice interrupts your debaucherous thoughts and you yelp in surprise. You glare at him leaning in the doorframe, hands in his pockets and collar casually unbuttoned, looking like an absolute treat. He chuckles and saunters into your office, settling into one of the chairs across from your desk and crossing his lithe legs. Despite your newfound attraction, he's still an arrogant little shit.
“I thought you couldn't come in uninvited,” you scowl, keeping your voice low for fear of someone overhearing.
“I don't recall being invited last time, but you didn't seem to mind,” he says with a laugh, and you squirm under his piercing red gaze. “Regardless, the rule only applies to homes, not individual rooms within a public university.”
Your frown deepens, unsure if he's being condescending or not.
“Is there something I can help you with, or are you just here to frustrate me?” You lean back in your chair and cross your arms, trying to imitate his casual authority. You're not terribly successful.
“You seem to be doing that perfectly well yourself, the way I could hear your arteries pumping from down the hall.” His smile widens, flashing just a hint of fang, and your resolve weakens. He stands and stretches his arms above his head, his shirt raising just enough for you to see a sliver of porcelain skin. You’re positive he’s just doing this to annoy you.
“Well, when you have a free moment, stop by my office, I have something to show you,” he drawls, an almost bored lilt coloring his tone. “And do try to keep that pulse of yours under control, it’s distracting to the point of vulgarity.” He glances at you over his glasses one more time before retreating into the hall again.
You cross your legs, trying to ease the ache between your thighs. He's absolutely insufferable. And he’s so much worse now that he knows he has this power over you.
You gather your materials for Voice and Speech, plotting ways to enact your revenge.
***
Against your better judgment, you find yourself walking toward Ancunín’s office after class. You take a moment before knocking on the door, smoothing down the front of your dress and tousling your hair to give it a little more volume.
Suddenly the door opens and Mol comes barrelling out in a huff.
“D’you believe this berk? Gettin’ on my tail for ‘academic integrity.’ Ain't nobody more integrous than me!” she grumbles, adjusting her bag angrily. She turns her heated gaze to you.
“Can you talk to your boyfriend and tell him to leave me alone?” she spits and you splutter involuntarily.
“Mol, we’re not–”
“Come off it, miss. Everyone sees the way you look at ‘im. Just work your magic so I can get back to gettin’ a college education.” And without another word, she's off. You blink, trying to make sense of what just happened. Are the students talking about the two of you?
Shaking your head, you knock on the door frame as you walk into his office. It's just as cozy as last time, warm light emanating from lamps in every corner to compensate for the blackout curtains over the windows. Honestly, how does anyone not know he's a vampire? You can almost hear his excuse, something about how “direct sunlight is ruinous to one’s skin.”
“Destroying students' lives by keeping them academically honest?” you smirk as you gently close the door behind you with your foot. He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I swear, that girl is too clever for her own good. I'd almost respect it if she didn't get on my last nerve,” he sighs, putting his glasses back on and glancing up at you. His expression softens for a second before quickly shifting to mischievous. You slide over to him, leaning against the edge of his desk as you face him.
Any animosity you may have held dissolves as he looks up at you, his hand absentmindedly stroking your thigh just under the hem of your skirt. You shiver as you try to keep your voice steady.
“You said you had something to show me, professor?” You emphasize the title with the gusto of a young porn star. He smirks and pulls you down until you're straddling his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck and grind your hips into him, feeling the beginnings of an erection. He lets out a little puff of air that can almost be mistaken for a moan. He buries his face into your tits, running his nose along the neckline of your dress and slides his hands under your skirt to cup your ass. You breathe in sharply, your breasts rising to meet his lips.
Then a knock at the door.
You both freeze and stare at one another. You hear a muffled voice on the other side.
“Dr. Ancunín, do you have a minute? I have something extremely important to tell you,” Dr. Dekarios from the School of the Weave shouts through the door.
Astarion instinctually replies, “Just a minute!” and the two of you share a wordless exchange.
-What the fuck are you doing?
-I don't know, I panicked!
-What am I supposed to do?
-Hide, perhaps?
Without thinking you slide off his lap and under the desk. Just in time, too, as Dr. Dekarios doesn't wait for Astarion’s permission to open the door and waltz right in.
“Dr. Ancunín, thank goodness, I hope I'm not interrupting anything.” You can hear the Arcana History professor rush in and eagerly sit down in the red velvet lounge chairs across from Astarion’s desk. You groan internally as you realize that you might be stuck here for an unbearably long time.
“Actually, Dr. Dekarios, I was on my way out,” Astarion says as he starts to stand before quickly reversing that decision. You realize with a smug sense of satisfaction that he’s still slightly aroused.
“Completely understand, I'll keep this brief, then. So, the other day, you and I spoke of the use of bardic magic and its position amongst playwrights in Renaissance England.”
“Yes, I recall,” Astarion responds through gritted teeth. He sinks back down in his chair, resigned to sitting through this conversation.
“And how it was common practice at the time to use magic from the college of swords as decreed by Elizabeth? Ben Jonson, Marlowe, Beaumont and Fletcher, they all used college of swords magic.” Dr. Dekarios’ voice increases in pitch with his excitement. You suppress a sigh, preparing yourself for a long wait in this cramped space. It’s not particularly comfortable, especially with trying to keep out of the way of Astarion’s long legs.
Although…
You might not have to keep out of the way. Maybe if you just… brushed your hand along his leg…
Astarion coughs to hide the sudden intake of breath your touch causes. He crosses his legs and you smile knowing it's to give himself a little reprieve. A feeling you know all too well.
“Yes,” Astarion says, his voice frustratingly steady, “I recall your enthusiasm in telling me this.”
You're trying to read his response. Is he into this? Is this a game he wants to play? You test your luck again, dragging your fingers up his thigh more deliberately. His leg quivers and he shifts his posture as the Arcana professor continues.
“Well, I had a thought. Consider this: Shakespeare brought about a major shift in how we think of the Western theatrical canon as it pertains to bard magic, correct?”
You scooch forward and press your tits into his knees that are now pinched tightly together. You slide your hands up his inner thighs, prying them apart slightly. You lean into his legs further as your hands continue their journey upward, squeezing as they get to the top of his thigh.
He kicks suddenly, a soft thump into the back of the desk. Is he telling you to stop? You pull back and glance up at him, the top of the desk obscuring most of his face. He's stiffly nodding along to Dekarios’ rambling.
“And remind me, what other major storytelling convention did Shakespeare also shift during this time?” You honestly can't tell if he’s actually asking, or giving Astarion a mini exam in his own specialty.
You wait for a response from him. He lets his thighs fall open and gently nudges your hip with the side of his shoe. No, his foot.
This mother fucker is playing footsie with you?
Oh he is definitely into your little game.
You push his legs open again, this time sliding your hands all the way up to his cock, and you feel it twitch beneath the wool of his pants. You gently stroke him and his hips give a subtle twist into you.
“I'm not sure–” Astarion begins, but stops short when his voice cracks. You nuzzle his bulge, running your lips across it as it hardens. You slip a hand under him and give his balls a gentle squeeze. You can hear his breath stutter, but it's unlikely Dekarios can as he quickly answers his own question.
“The humors, correct? My understanding of non-magic literature isn't fully up to snuff, but I am correct in remembering this, yes?”
You lick a fat stripe across the fabric and you hear a metallic click above your head, like his watch just made sudden contact with the surface of the desk. You can imagine the veins in his hands bulging as he clasps them together tightly.
“Hm, no, ah yes, you are correct. Most English Renaissance playwrights understood characters as a balance or imbalance of the four humors.” Astarion manages to keep his voice relatively even, and you know you need to up your game. You reach up to undo his belt buckle as quietly and efficiently as possible. Luckily, you’re able to hide the noise within Dekarios’ exclamation.
“Yes! That's exactly what I was thinking! So, hear me out. What if these two shifts were related? In moving away from college of swords magic, Shakespeare felt less constrained by the four humors. Or perhaps the other way around?”
You reach into his pants and free his cock, now fully hard, and tease your fingers along his shaft. His hips buck a little more forcefully, as though controlling his movement is growing more difficult. You grip his pelvis tightly, holding it in place, and relishing the fact that you have the control for once. You flick the tip of your tongue across his slit and his hips twitch again under your hands.
“Could be…” is all Astarion can manage to reply. Hopefully at this point Dekarios is in a full-on oration and he won't need to contribute much, if at all.
You pop the head of his cock into your mouth, working the underside of it with your tongue. You clamp your arms down on his thighs, pulling them closer to you and pushing them into your tits. Your inner thighs grow damp as your own arousal quickens. You squirm as a miniscule moan works its way into your mouth. Not loud enough for anyone to hear, you hope, but you're certain that Astarion can feel the vibration because his hips jerk again. His torso and face above, or at least what you can see of it, gives little away.
“And this could even,” Dekarios continues, showing no sign of awareness of anything else happening in the room, “signal the shift into realism, could it not? Beginning with Shakespeare and culminating with Chekhov and Ibsen in the nineteenth century?”
You take in more of him, relaxing your tongue and letting him fill your mouth, discovering his taste. He almost lifts off his chair in his attempt to thrust into you, and you use it as a way to take him in deeper. Your jaw is beginning to ache with how slow you're going, but it's worth it to feel Astarion’s frustrated discomfort.
You can hear him take a slow breath before speaking again.
“You know who would absolutely love this discovery of yours?” His voice is low, smooth, as you bob your mouth on his cock. “Tav, the classical theatre professor. Her office is right down the hall.”
You choke and he deftly covers the sound of your gag with a cough.
“Bless you,” Dekarios says after a fraction of hesitation. He continues as though there was no interruption at all.
“Then I shall share my findings with her! Down the hall, you say?”
“Room 208.”
“Excellent!” Dekarios stands and you wrap your hand around the base of Astarion's shaft, letting some saliva dribble out of your mouth to lubricate it. You can hear the wizard quickly make his way out the door.
“Gale!” Astarion yelps as you twist your hand and swirl your tongue in tandem. He clears his throat and corrects his decorum. “Dr. Dekarios, the door, please.”
“Oh, of course! Apologies,” he says with slight chagrin, and then you hear the latch on the door click. Astarion rolls his chair back and grabs your hair, pulling you out from under the desk.
“You saucy little minx,” he growls and you stumble forward and into his lap, your lips crashing into his. He easily tears through your leggings and underwear, exposing your dripping cunt to the open air.
This man is wracking up quite the clothing bill.
He slides two fingers into you, roughly stretching you out and you groan into his ear.
“You didn't seem to mind,” you manage to squeak out, repeating his words from earlier with significantly less dignity. You grind onto his fingers with his cock trapped between you, and your clit slides against his shaft. Another shuddering breath rockets through you as your whole body clenches around him.
He yanks his hand out of you and you whimper at the sudden emptiness, but you don't need to wait long for him to grab your waist and sink you down onto his cock. You can feel the skin toward your perineum tear slightly but the stinging pain is nothing compared to the delicious stretch that comes with him bottoming out. He shoves his fingers in your mouth and you arch your back into him, the taste of your own juices flooding your tongue.
He keeps his other hand firm on your lower back as he thrusts up into you. You cling onto his neck, pulling his mouth toward your breasts as they rise and fall with your stuttering breaths. He takes his hand away from your mouth and slides the hem of your dress all the way up to your chin. His lips latch on to your nipple poking through the soft cotton of your bra.
“Gods, fuck,” you groan as you continue to roll your hips into his, and he flicks his tongue against your tit. You push down even further onto him and pull the cup down, pushing your now bare breast into his teeth. His eyes flicker upward, glasses sliding down his nose slightly. You bounce harder on his cock and grip the back of his neck tightly.
“Fuck, please, bite me,” you whine, aching to feel every part of him in you. He doesn't need to be told twice and he sinks his fangs into the sensitive flesh around your nipple. You cry out but try to stifle the noise by pressing your open mouth into his hair. You can smell that citrusy fragrance he wears and your fingers claw into him.
He sucks your blood out from around your tit, and with every swallow he laps his tongue against you, over and over. You're certain his devil tongue will be your demise.
Your pace increases and it becomes harder to suppress your moans. You clamp your mouth shut and bury your face into his ear. He releases your breast and roughly kisses you to keep you quiet, the taste of iron filling your mouth.
You come with an explosive cry that gets swallowed into his kiss. As you're still riding the wave of your orgasm you can feel his, his hips rutting as his dick throbs with the pulse of his semen.
The two of you finally slow, the sticky mess between you squelching lewdly. You listen intently past the sound of your heavy breathing to try to hear any indication that someone overheard. When you deem it safe, you let out a sigh of relief that dissolves into giggles. He drops his forehead into your shoulder as the hem of your dress gets overtaken by gravity and slides down your front
You disentangle yourself from him, wincing slightly at the feeling of him sliding out of your sore pussy. You get a better look at him, your blood still smeared on his lips and chin, his now-flaccid dick slumped above his waistband. You're certain you can't look much better, dress rucked up around your waist, hair mussed and sticking every which way.
You methodically put yourselves back together, Astarion stuffing his wet dick back into his pants, you straightening your dress and hair. You catch his gaze again and somehow he still manages to make you blush, his crimson eyes peering over his frames. He reaches out to tuck a wayward lock behind your ear.
“Maybe next time we’ll have sex in your office,” he chuckles. You swat his chest playfully only to find yourself drawn into him, not wanting to pull your hand away. It's strangely romantic, and if you were able to think clearly, his hands snaking around your waist might bother you. But your head is still spinning and your cunt is still throbbing with the aftershocks of your orgasm, and little could upset you right now.
That is, until the doorknob turns and Dekarios pops his head back in.
“Looks like she’s not–” His voice dies off quickly when he realizes what he's walked in on. He coughs, mumbles an incoherent apology, and backs out quickly.
“I swear to the gods I'm getting a scroll of arcane lock for that damn door,” he growls under his breath, and you lean your forehead against his chest in deflated embarrassment.
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