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hellishjoel · 10 months

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talk me down

3.7k / therapist!joel x f!reader

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Summary: You’re finally ready to sit down and discuss your obvious daddy issues. Your therapist, Joel, has his methods.

Warnings/Information/Heads-Up: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, abuse of position (therapist!joel), discussions of parental divorce, daddy issues, praise kink, daddy kink, pet names, cursing/swearing, age gap, handjob (for a lil bit?) unprotected p in v, cockwarming (if you squint?), breathplay (I’m running out of breath typing all this are we good to go?)

A/N: this is my first fic wow how exciting, I can’t thank my new friends enough for the brainstorming and helping make it to tumblr so let’s just get on with it yeah? tell me if you want more, my requests are open x

“Oooh, fuck,” you gasp, your head coming back up to watch as his hand disappeared under the drape of your skirt. Suddenly you felt him cup your aching mound, taking in a short breath at the feeling of finally getting some much-desired pressure down there. “So fuckin’ wet… were you this wet during our whole session, kitten?” He asked. It was sick and twisted, you knew it was. That’s why you let out a shameful little nod, your legs wanting to clench around his hand there. He let out a disgusted scoff, you deserved it. You wanted to fuck your therapist.

“So what brings you here today?”

Your eyes shyly evade his, instead choosing to graze over the belongings of your new therapist’s office. It looked like a small library the way books were lined up and stacked on the shelves. The desk behind him was a dark oak, and everything had its place, not a pen out of line. After you deliberately ignore his question, he probes you again.

“It says on your intake form that you have... A distant relationship with your father due to your parents' divorce. Is that something you want to talk about with me today?”

His voice is sweet like honey, but you’re the only one dripping. You failed during your extended research on therapists to check his picture because you had no idea you signed up for someone so fucking handsome.

Your jaw was tight as you clamped your legs tighter together one draped over the other, trying to conceal your growing arousal. Talk, or he’ll think you’re mute!

“Yes.” You say, clearing your throat as you readjust your skirt over your lap, tugging at the hem.

You confide in Joel about the hardships of your parents growing up. The house was never quiet, always fighting, tearing each other down, and it just wasn’t healthy. You thought you’d thank the lord the day they filed for a divorce. You didn’t expect to lose the relationship you had with your father in the midst of it all.

You were still young, trying to grow up and learn, his absence mattered to you, even if it didn’t to your mother. He came around a lot at first. He’d pick you up from school and steal you away for a few hours, getting ice cream to celebrate your reunion with him.

But then, he got a new girlfriend. You weren’t sure how she managed to replace both you and your mother, but she did. You saw him less, he started not meeting your expectations. Soon, he became a weird distant memory. Now, as a young adult, you combat all the unjust things the wake of his departure caused. You couldn’t bear the thought of dating someone your age. Everyone was young and immature, asking for nudes over text after the first date if they even got your phone number at all. Now it was all just over social media or dating apps.

“Older men are just more... Refined. They have their priorities and goals, and they’re like... Actually accomplishing shit. Guys my age are just..” You paused, your eyes meeting his own to fill in the gaps.

“.. Not meeting your expectations?” Joel asked, his pen clutched in his hand as he scribbled something in his notepad.

“Right.” You let out breathily, your eyes falling to the chest hair you could see exposed by his button-up shirt.

This was a perfect example because look at Dr. Joel Miller! His Ph.D. decorated the wall with numerous other accolades on his shelves, so you knew he was smart. Being a therapist made him a good listener, you’d never have to feel like you were the therapist to a frat guy again.

You let out an involuntary whimper, a white-hot flash soaring through the pit of your stomach. You were dripping for him, and you could feel it against your clenched thighs.

“I know talking about these topics is difficult, but you’re doing a good job.” He praised you as you felt your chest and cheeks flush red with his attention.

Your breathing was staggered, you needed to release the tension between your legs desperately.

“You-- uhm, you think I’m doing a good job?”

His eyes flashed up to you with the question, something dark and tantalizing about the way he looked over you now. It was like a predator meeting prey the way his eyes began to rake over you.

Your arousal was obvious in the way your knee anxiously bounced up and down, continuing to readjust in your seat, begging for him to tell you that your time with him was up so you could go home and use your vibrator on your clit, thinking about Dr. Joel Miller between your legs.

You watched as he stood up from his chair across from you, your eyes tracking him as he nodded slowly. He clasped his hands behind his back, his strong biceps fighting the material of his shirt for dominance. The hand closest to you came down and did a delicate sweep around the rim of the chair you were sitting in.

“You’re doing great, baby girl.” He praised again, stopping to stand next to you. You were eye-level to his waist, your lips parting at the sight of the bulge in his pants. Oh, fuck me, so that’s what he’s been hiding behind his notepad.

His hand gently reached out to you, two straight fingers under your chin as he tilted you up to look at him. Your long eyelashes batted at him, teeth piercing down into your bottom lip. You let out an involuntary sigh as his hand moved up your cheek, bringing you in to rest against his thigh.

He was warm, and he smelled like Old Spice, god, you could swear it was the same one your dad used to use. You whimper at the thought, digging your face gently further into his protection. You felt his hand gently caress the back of your head, stroking back your hair from your face.

You wanted him, your pussy wanted him, and the throbbing need for his attention and affection was incurable. You began to press kisses into the material of his pants, losing all pride as you fell to your knees in front of him and palmed your hand over his growing erection.

You braved looking up at him, his face watching you in adoration, like he was proud of you.

“Is this what you want? I’ll do whatever you want.” You say meekly, desperate to please.

“You know what I think you need?” He asks, his voice dropped an octave, and it was making you purr. He was more sultry now, his hands finding yours and guiding you up off of the floor. You finally shake your head, your hands gently moving up his chest and feeling his toned pecs and broad shoulders.

Seeing him this close made your heart flutter. He was so handsome, so grown. His wispy curls were adorning the same salt and pepper as his beard. He had worn lines by his eyes and on his forehead, his curious mind must always be causing his brows to furrow. He had you breathless at the mouth and achingly wet down below.

“I think you need me to take care of you. Is that what you want, baby? Someone to show you how much they care about you? Someone to be where you need them most?” His strong hand is traveling down your front now, Joel’s pointer finger curling into the front of your skirt. Your lips part as he tugs so hard that you’re falling into him, your small hands clutching the landscape of his biceps.

“Yes-- fuck, please Joel, yes.” You nearly beg. Be there for me, be inside me.

He let out a heavy grunt of satisfaction, closing the distance between you as he cradled your face in his big hands and connected your lips. You felt safe, letting your walls fall down as he took care of you.

You melted in his hold, Joel’s tongue carefully gliding over your bottom one in a request for you to part yours for him. You followed his lead, a whimpering moan leaving you as you felt his tongue invade your mouth. He was moving you backward methodically until the back of your thighs hit the desk you previously admired. Your hips shook the frame, hearing pens and some papers clatter to the floor.

You felt overwhelmingly hot, you needed to shed some layers. Like the mind reader he was, Joel’s hands moved down to the hem of your top, breaking your heated kiss to discard the material in his way.

He generously cupped your breasts held away by your bra, another desperate moan leaving you as you watched him through hooded eyes admire your body. His hands were quick to settle on your hips, fingertips burning into your skin as he lifted you up onto the desk with ease. Fuck, he had the kind of strength that looked effortless.

Joel was taking charge, and it was so nice, he knew exactly what he wanted to do, and you didn’t have to worry about anything. His legs nudged your own open, cool air finally greeting your needy pussy. The sensation had your head falling back, accidentally breaking your kiss once more.

“So fuckin’ wet… were you this wet during our whole session, kitten?” He asked. It was sick and twisted, you knew it was. That’s why you let out a shameful little nod, your legs wanting to clench around his hand there.

He let out a disgusted scoff, you deserved it. You wanted to fuck your therapist.

“You want daddy to take care of that for you with his cock?” His foul words had you at a loss of your own, your jaw slack as he pressed his hips into yours and you could feel his dick pressed right up against your pussy.

“Take daddy’s belt off.” He grumbled his orders, a quick nod leaving you. You didn’t want to waste his time.

“Yes.” You whimpered.

“Yes, what?” His voice was stern and articulate, making you bend your will as his close proximity flooded your senses. You couldn’t find his belt soon enough. You popped the button of his jeans and nearly tore off the zipper at his ask.

“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, a greedy smile on your lips to see you earned his favor. He adoringly cupped one side of your cheek as both of your heads rested against one another’s to watch you pull down his dark briefs.

He let out a strained grunt at the release, his flesh going to slap against his tanned stomach. He was already unbuttoning his shirt as you made a fist around him, watching his face to see how he liked it. Too fast? A little slower? Too rough... You paused and spat down on him, your eyes darting back up to his as he let out a satisfied sigh. Let me do it perfectly for you, Joel.

“So good for me.” He purred, his thumb brushing down the slope of your nose and over your swollen bottom lip that you had bruised from biting down so hard on it. He pushed the tip of his thumb past your lips, the intrusion a surprise but you eagerly sucked to appease him. The action made him swell in your hand to fullness, even beginning to feel too heavy in your hand as you continued to work over him.

“Is this all for me?” You asked eagerly, a sweet smile gracing your face.

You watched as he leaned in, your eyelashes fluttering closed as he came to press his warm lips against the crown of your head. “All for you, baby girl.” He mumbled against your forehead.

“Oh,” you let out in a sweet surprised little moan, your hand working over him eagerly faster. You didn’t care if you got off at this point, as long as he did.

“Lie back, baby.” His voice was rocky like gravel, you could already see his chest heaving at the attention of your hands. You did as he asked, but not before he unclipped your bra so your tits were on full show for him.

You reached one of your hands back, already gripping the edge of the table as you braced yourself for him. He was so large, easily the largest you had ever been with. You wanted to feel every inch of man that he was inside of your throbbing cunt.

Your skirt was merely an obstacle in his way, watching him toss it up to show your lacey panties underneath. You bit down on your lip with a wide smirk on your face, he really liked the lace.

“So fuckin pretty,” he admired, your hands coming to rest over his own, your nails gently grazing down his forearms to his fingers. His pointer finger and thumb grazed over the soaked material, admiring how he could see your pretty pussy underneath it. The lace was so dainty and fragile in his hands, he could just--

You gasp as his large hands rip the delicate lace right open, a messy opening of broken threads but now, he had unlimited access to your sex. He was so strong, you hoped he would split you open the same way.

His hands took a grip on the tops of your parted thighs from the outside, taking one foul yank as you felt him press his cock between your wet folds. You were back to gripping and stroking over his forearms, your delicate hand coming up to feel his stubbled cheek.

“Joel please, I need you.” you whimpered out, his head nodding against yours as a few of the curlier strands on his head fell onto his forehead. He was so handsome when he was turned on.

Joel’s heavy huffs broke the eye contact of his cock gliding up and down your arousal, the slick lubing him perfectly. He was perfectly glazed over now, all because of you, his heavy thumb coming down to gently circle over your throbbing clit.

You let out a cry at the much-needed attention, your walls pulsing for him to fill you up.

“Joel!” You whined out in anticipation, your jaw dropping as he finally guided his tip to you without warning and slammed into your depths until he bottomed out in one thrust. His hand was quick to clamp over your mouth, stopping you from letting out a sobbing moan as tears started to swell at the brim of your eyes.

“Don’t want anyone to hear us, princess,” His voice was broken by grunts and loose breaths, his palm swallowing your hot high pitched whines. “Or else we’ll have to stop.” You did not want him to stop!

You quickly shook your head and clasped your wrist around his which kept your mouth shut. I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you Joel. A tear slipped as you peppered apologetic kisses to the inside of his palm, your eyes desperately connecting with his in a silent ask for him to please continue fucking you.

Joel swiveled his hips back, his jeans clinging to his upper thighs as he rolled back into you. You couldn’t help but clench your eyes closed and let out a broken moan. He filled you up in all the best ways possible, he was perfect inside of you, every goddamn inch. You didn’t realize how loud you had gotten, his hand pushing your head down further into the desk and squeezing into your cheeks until you snapped out of it.

“What did fuckin’ tell you?” He punched out. God, you could feel him pulsating inside of your tight walls.

“God, this tight pussy feels so-- fuckin’ good.”

You moaned quietly at the compliment, a blissed-out smile on your lips still against his palm as he started a steady rhythm rocking into you.

You whimpered as the desk started to creak with each of his heavy thrusts, pinching your ass against the desk but he felt too good to complain. Sure, you’d have a red line imprinted on your cheeks, but hell, it was so worth it. “Such a good fuckin’ girl, little angel for me-- fuck,” he grunted as he used the hand wrapped around your mouth as leverage, holding your head down as his hips snapped into you mercilessly. You were crying out moans into his palm, but nothing loud ever left the room, just like he wanted.

Your hands are clenching at the desk now, desperate not to fly off. Through blurry eyes, you saw his face, tight and twisted as he admired the way your breasts bounced with each of his thrusts.

You bravely reached up to take his hand around your mouth, shifting it down to wrap around your windpipe. You gave him an angelic little smile, biting down on your lower lip to hold in your dirty moans.

Joel watched you in awe, nodding with his sick little half-smirk as he started to squeeze at the sides of your throat. Fuck, he’s done this before, he knows exactly what he’s doing. The heightened experience turns you on, he’s not some 20-something idiot who cares only about getting his dick wet. Joel wants you to cum.

“You look at me baby.. fuck--, don’t break eye contact until you wanna breathe, darlin’.” His accent drawled in your ear and made your pussy even wetter for him. One of his hands squeezed at the sides of your delicate windpipe, his other hand snaking between you two as his electric fingers found your buzzing clit.

The attention was a lot, but you were a whore for it.

His thrusts grew sloppier, but he was pacing himself, Joel wants you to cum first.

You whimper at the idea of him putting you ahead of his own interested and needs, your head growing foggy as your wrist wrapped around his own that held you down but you didn’t look away from his amber eyes. He licked his lips in desire watching you, your lips parting for air as you finally looked away.

He followed through on his promise, his strong hands going lax as your head fell to the side, eyes closing in bliss while your pussy fluttered around his dick.

“Fuck baby girl,” he panted through a mumble as his spare hand massaged over your breasts. “Got me losin’ my goddamn mind.” He moaned something that resembled your name, pinching at your sensitive peaks until he had you whimpering.

“Joel I- oh god,” your stomach dropped as the tip of his dick massaged at your sweet spot, a cry threatening to spill from your lips but you knew he didn’t like you being too loud in his office so you hold it in, your cheeks going hot red.

It was all too much. Your foggy head, his hands on your sensitive bits, his fucking dick slamming into you. You felt so small in his hold, his body shielding you from the outside world as he drove you face-first into your earth-shattering orgasm.

“Joel-Joel please, fuck, I’m gonna-,” Your chin tilted up and your back arched, his hand instantly moving back up to your throat so you could feel even more floated during the crash of your orgasm.

“Cum for me princess. Cum for me now.” He demanded in a mumble.

It coursed through your body like an electric current, your body short-circuiting from the amount of pleasure it was receiving all at once.

Your lips were parted, but nothing came out. You couldn’t hear a thing, only Joel, only him as he ruts himself against your core and you feel him spill his hot cum into the depths of your sex. You lazily smirked as you made your walls flutter around him, your core pulsing. Could almost feel him in your belly.

His breaths were heavy, heavenly. It made your skin clammy, the both of you so fucked up that you were stuck in place. You didn’t realize it, but you had reached up to cup his face, your thumb gently gliding down the curve of his crooked nose. Your lips gently came together as your head came up, kissing the tip of his nose before going to lay back down on his desk.

“Oh, baby girl,” Joel purred in adoration, his mouth coming down to greet yours in a delicate kiss. “Did such a good job.” Both of you were so drunk on your orgasms, everything was so perfect.

You lazily kissed him back, your arms wrapping around the tops of his shoulders with your fingers lightly fisting the hair at the nape of his neck to keep him close as he softened inside of you. You could stay here like this forever.

You glanced over just in time, seeing the last grain of sand fall down in his glass sand timer. Your session with Dr. Joel Miller was over.

He helped you hop off his desk, your wobbly legs needing to find their strength again. His cum was already meeting the tops of your inner thighs, your face blushing at the feeling. You were quite literally gaping for him.

Joel cleared his throat and easily pulled his jeans back up to the top of his hips at his waist, securing his belt and zipper before he fisted your discarded, ripped apart panties.

“Oh,” you whispered a bit embarrassed at the sight of them. You had just finished pulling your shirt back onto your torso, stuffing your bra inside your purse. No way you were going to try and put that thing back on. You reached out for him to hand them over, your eyes widening as he pulled his hand away and stuffed them into his pocket.

“For safe keeping…” He trailed off, his eyes still dark as they looked down at your wide ones. Well, you weren’t getting those back any time soon. They were his now, your torn to threads black lace panties. You nodded and weakly smiled, still trying to catch your breath.

Joel walked you out, tapping his absentminded secretary’s desk to tell her to find something in both of your calendars for a future date.

“I think I can really help you work this out.” He told you on your way out.

As you left his office, you felt like everyone knew what you had just done. But for now, it was just a secret for you and your therapist, Joel.

---------------- taglist: let's be fr lol If you liked talk me down, check out pretty little thing!

#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #therapist joel #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel

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blackopals-world · 2 months

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Therapist!Yuu: (Drinking at the bar)

Crewel: (takes a seat next to them)

Therapist!Yuu: Now don't you waltz over here all smooth-like. Fellas will think I'm easy or worse, taken.

Crewel: There's nothing wrong with two coworkers grabbing a drink?

Therapist!Yuu: So what's the word?

Crewel: Head you had a problem with Ms.Rosehearts today.

Therapist!Yuu: That old shrew. If you want me to sing that song you better get me a highball to cope.

Crewel: Hey bartender, can we get one Whiskey highball and a rum and coke over here.

Therapist!Yuu: Well aren't you a doll. Well I'll tell you true, that woman gets under my skin. She has the nerve to challenge my judgment. She slinks around my office like she's gotta snake tail and yells in my face about it. All I did was teach her boy the grey rock method of dealing with her. Now she's can't get a reaction out of him because he ignores her. Without anyone to get energy from narcissistic vampires like her have nothing to feed off of.

Crewel: So you ignored her too?

Therapist!Yuu: No I dragged her by the bejeweled ear and kicked her back to Timbuktu. I know it's not a proper thing to do, specially not for a lady but sometimes well I don't feel like acting like a lady. This whole mess has got me in a right tizy. I must be chewing your ear off though.

Crewel:(absolutely smitten) Oh no, I love hearing you talk.

#therapist!yuu #yuuniverse #divus crewel x reader #divus crewel #twst divus #twisted wonderland divus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst crewel #twisted wonderland crewel #twisted wonderland yuu

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kachowder · 1 year

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Concept

Yandere M!Therapist x reader

Tw: Manipulative, Implied nsfw (?), power dynamic(?),

Cameron didnt know when it started, or how. His job was to help people. To be there to listen to them, an impartial voice for people who struggled.

He was supposed to help.

But god did you make it ever so hard.

He remembered his first impression of you, and your story. He had his fair share of attractive patients, though he’d never been attracted to them. Or almost anyone really. He found it he viewed all his clients solely as his patients. People he needed, wanted to help. He couldn’t see them in any other way. But alas, he’d be a filthy liar if he said that his heart hadn’t fluttered and his cheeks hadn’t warmed at his first sight of you.

It was easy to brush off though. His morals were still uptight and resilient. No patient relationships. He was sure it would stay that way as well.

Your story was sad, as it often was for all his patients. He sympathized with you, it was his job to do so, and he occasionally asked you to elaborate on certain phrases or feelings you used.

You didn’t cuss like many of his patients did. Though it could’ve been because you weren’t comfortable with him just yet.

He liked the way you spoke though. It was delicate. Not necessarily your voice, but just the way you phrased things. Like you knew the worlds secrets but kept them to yourself. You seemed complex in a way he couldn’t describe. Though perhaps he was giving you too much credit. Maybe you just liked to read.

To him, it seemed you had long since become, to some extent, accepting of the things you dealt with, and truly just needed someone to listen to you. Perhaps tell you that you weren’t over reacting.

You were funny. Possibly a cope, but he didn’t mind much. He couldn’t help himself from grinning and laughing a few times, which you always seemed proud of.

It made him feel weird.

At the end of the session you told him you’d be coming back the following week. That you enjoyed talking to him.

He would never tell you how excited he had been for your next appointment.

Eventually, as time went on, and he began seeing you more, he began to feel something.

A fluttering sensation when he spoke to you.

A deep warmth that swelled all over his skin, and left him feeling almost giddy.

He slowly started being more responsive. More than his job obligated him to be anyway. He asked questions. Casual ones at first. Though they increased with each session.

It started to feel like you were two friends just hanging out together. Chatting about everything and anything. There were still moments where you would discuss more pressing topics. Like the guy who wouldn’t leave you alone, and how he suddenly disappeared one day after one of your sessions.

He assured you that the man must’ve given up, and that possibly the advice he’d given you had helped. You seemed unsettled for a moment, but the soft smile you sent him after, accompanied by a sweet “thank you”, made him feel as if a sleepless night or two didn’t matter so much.

Things got a bit more complicated after that.

He wasn’t quite sure when, but he started seeking your praise and approval. Your attention.

He started dressing up. Simple at first. A new shirt. More form fitting pants. Maybe a nice watch or necklace.

He had the money. So that wasn’t an issue for him. He could take care of you.

Over time though, the simple compliments weren’t enough. He wanted you to stare. He wanted your eyes all over him. He wanted you to stare down at him like he was something you needed. That you couldn’t live with out.

A few buttons left apart. A tighter shirt. Even tighter pants. Maybe even a little makeup. Nothing fancy. He just wanted you to compliment his skill. He had a few sisters to thank for that.

He remembered you had offhandedly mentioned how good he looked red once.

He wore it almost every session after that.

He loved watching the way your eyes would snap to him when you’d step into his office. The way your eyes would roam for a moment before you looked away out of respect. No. Stare more. Longer. Undress me with your eyes. Please please please.

You offhandedly asked why he had been so well dressed, the first time it happened. He was a bit embarrassed. Especially by the realization of why he had been dressing up. He told you he was going on a date. A very loud part of him wanted to see a reaction. A sign. Even the smallest one that showed you liked him. That you were interested in him.

But you smiled. That beautiful, insufferable, tormenting, lovely smile.

He hated it.

Be angry. Be jealous. Do something. Anything. Want him need him. Do it do it do it doitdoit

It’s not enough.

Before he knew it, he was sabotaging your social life left and right.

“Oh how cruel of them.”

“They shouldn’t have done that. It hurt didn’t it?”

“They don’t know you”

“You don’t need them.”

He thanked his career at times like this.

He knew what buttons to push. What strings to pull. You relied on him.

Your visits became more frequent.

The “hands to yourself policy” was discarded. You leaned on him. Laid your head in his lap (after many many attempts at persuasion). His well manicured fingers traced your skin. He’d hum. Give his thoughts.

And slowly sunk his claws deep into you.

You needed therapy. His therapy. You needed him.

Almost as much as he needed you.

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A/n: Woo! A human! That’s a first. Anyway I hope you guys like him :) <3 I do not condone yandere behavior this is purely fiction <3

#yandere #x oc #yandere oc #yandere therapist #yandere x reader #my oc #x reader

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solarsturniolo · 4 months

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Texts w Best Friend!Chris

Let me know what y’all think of these and if you’d want more of them 💋

Tags: @flowerxbunnie 🫦💋

warnings: cursing

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #i need him in a way that is concerning to feminism #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo texts #sturniolo #he’s so babygirl #my therapist’s bills gettin paid tho

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poltoreveur · 4 months

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I mean, I can fix him.. but do I want to tho?

#he so crazy #maybe he could be crazy in love with me #😍😍😍#my delulu is showing #even a therapist can’t help me #fun fact but my therapist actually quit on me lol #coriolanus snow x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #void stiles x reader #tom riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #theodore nott x reader #rafe cameron x reader #bucky barnes x reader #ethan landry x reader #cardan greenbriar #aaron warner #jonathan crane #patrick bateman

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finsplurtz · 3 months

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first time — choso kamo

— dom ! male.reader x sub ! Choso Kamo

— contents : virgin choso , corruption kink prolly.. uhh dark stuff

warnings : virginity loss … does this count as r@pe

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

Choso being super clueless about sex or js anything sexual in general that yn would use him for his own pleasure.

He doesn’t even know what a kiss is, but he does it with yn since he claims it’s “something friends do”. It’s not hurting anyone so guess it’s fine…

Till yn does something a little different.. his hands roam choso’s body just touching whatever he can reach, while choso is letting the guy shove his tongue down his throat.

He’d ask “what are you doing..?” Yn would respond, “wanna make you feel good” and smile.

Choso being all naked and feeling exposed he tries to stop yn. “W-wait I don’t feel…good..” he’d look at yn with the saddest puppy eyes.

“Aww cmon Cho’ honey… just wanna be closer to you…” yn would say in a sad tone and leave kisses all over his neck and shoulders.

He’d feel so bad and just let it happen. Yn would be the person to take his virginity and he’d make sure nobody else even THOUGHT of Choso in that way. It’d hurt first time and he’d cry but Choso would force himself thru it js to make yn happy.

The more they’d do it, the more Choso would get addicted to having sex. He’d initiate it all the time and have it anywhere.

At some point he’d even try to convince others to do it with him….. yn gets there before the person explains to Choso what sex really means.

Choso loves it anyway:)

a/n; barfff this kinda suckz

#want him pregnant #this gay as hellll #get a therapist #jjk choso #choso x male reader #jjk x male reader #male reader #gn reader #dom top reader #jujutsu kaisen #smut #drabble #dark content #gay #jjk x reader #tumblr writers #corruption kink

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arsonlookers · 25 days

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✧ MS. THERAPIST Yandere Childe! Idea ✧

slight suggestive please be warned.

Yandere Childe! who becomes obsessed in love with you because you are his therapist.

Yandere Childe! got sentenced to jail for the same actions of being a total creep and a yandere. sentenced for murder, stalking, attempting kidnapping, assault, stealing, and many more gruesome acts he did.

Yandere Childe! who was very stubborn and murderous after going to jail. yelling that he needs to protect Lumine [the victim of his Yandere acts] and lumine not even planning to time visiting him in jail [i mean who would?]

Yandere Childe! who stops eating and taking care of himself being dishearten by not seeing lumine for the past month and starts starving since then. losing the reasoning to keep living.

Yandere Childe! who meets reader [you] in his 2nd week of staying becomes his personal therapist since then.

Yandere Childe! tried to kill you because he dont want to see anybody except lumine.

Yandere Childe! Who nearly did murder you if not for your fast instinct and taekwondo training you got as a child, and knock him off the ground he was not able to get back up again.

Yandere Childe! becomes more interested in you after that incident keeps apologizing about what happened before and keeps asking you to fight him. To strangle him with your thigh again.

Yandere Childe! who keeps dreaming about the incident and just wants to be in that position again. in between your plush thigh. starts to be more and more interested in your life for some reason

Yandere Childe! who keeps checking you out every time you are there or its therapy session.

Yandere Childe! Who keeps asking you if you have a boyfriend or husband, if you do what they look like, what are their names, The more he is around you the more his questions become personal and creepy.

Yandere Childe! who for some reason starts to become healthy again, and starts to work out inside his jail. starts to show off his hard work abs and all, for some reason starts to become more and more touchy and just keeps asking you to be inside in a room again promising to not hurt you ever again.

Yandere Childe! who now shamelessly dirty talks to you and keeps talking about everything like I mean every thing in his life and how he was obsessed and why he did all of it.

Yandere Childe! who opens up everything where he hides the bodies how he disposes of them, his past trauma, how he got kidnapped, how he stalks and keeps a altar for lumine, E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G.

suggestive warning ahead!!!

Yandere Childe! who shamelessly starts thinking about you in sensual ways, like how he likes to feel your mouth and all around his body. and absolutely in his mouth.

yandere Childe! shamelessly masturbates in front of you or in his cell. like "ahhh~ uggg~ I ~ keep talking!- AHhhh~~mmmm~ your so cute~~ " behind his cell, he is doing all those unholy things

Yandere Childe! keeps asking you to either strip, about your underwear, join him, shamelessly dirty talks while he is pumping his member keeps his eyes on your body and never looks anywhere. just in you and in your eyes, he just keeps talking about "I want to fck you~ mminside that hole~ AHHHhhhh~mmmm~ look at me darling~ look at how you made me feel~ you are making me feel so~ so~ goooood~~ my cute~ sexy! therapist~~ "

Yandere Childe! Who knows that You can't just leave him and ask other therapists to be his doctor because he tells you how he will kill them even behind these bars. if he knows that you actually wanted to leave him [ oh honey he will kill even if it meant to also be the reason of his death]

Yandere Childe! begging for you to just stay with him, "I will be your good boy~ pleaseee~ agggh ~ ummpphh~ " while keeping his hands on his member

Yandere Childe! If you will truly leave him he will find ways to break out of these prison cells. and will search for you even if it means to go travel around the world to search for you.

Yandere Childe! who is rich by the way like he truly has the money. and actually bribes some of the guards in the prison without you knowing. just to keep an eye on you of course .

Yandere Childe! Who actually starts to call you pet names shamelessly like "darling" "baby" "slut" "savior" and many more all these other pet names of his are getting worst by the day.

Yandere Childe! who enjoys how you also slowly start to enjoy his company even if some of it is just absurb and questionable. He also enjoys how he somehow did get you to talk about your past a little bit.

Yandere Childe! who is in prison but actually got some information about you from the outside. he will not tell you that of course.

Yandere Childe! who now found an interesting and lovely woman to obsessed with, to love, to keep him forever and ever may she like it or not. Yandere Childe! who promises you that you will be stuck with him forever. Yandere Childe! who now found another will to live this life of his, found his true purpose, he who accepts that everything that is happening now is FATE that you two are FATED to be together.

Yandere Childe! who behind the cells can still do anything to his power to have you, to control you, to make you stay, to make you love him, your oh so LOVELY PATIENT.

"ms. therapist ~ I need your assistance!~ I feel so lonely would you care to join hmm~ to help me feel better~ help this lonely patient of yours~"

Yandere Childe! will love you forever .,.and actually has a shrine for you outside this prison in his house so yeahhh. hahahaha.

YANDERE CHILDE! who is MADLY in love with you .

so please take care of this sick patient of yours ok? ms. therapist~

✧ahhhh!! my first Yandere writing I never imagined I would write it I'm not really that confident about this one I'm trying something new other than angst so yeahh thank u for reading just a random idea really if there are any grammar mistakes sorry about it. it might be quite messy but I just want to share and had this idea of being his therapist and will be forever stuck being his therapist for life. hehe anyways bye~ - ars onlookers

"ART IS NOT MINE" -from pinterest

♡♡Reblogs and likes are much appreciated!!♡♡

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loveindefinitely · 6 months

Text

you, a therapist hired to see if there's any possible way to rehabilitate the country's most lethal killers. you, who becomes the object of desire for your patients. you, who comes to work with bruises from your abusive boyfriend.

soap, ghost, gaz, price, alejandro, rudy, könig and keegan who are gonna escape and find said boyfriend and make him beg for mercy.

#🗯 : love's rambles #no but #need a rh therapist/patient fic in my life #might do it myself #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod x reader #mw2 #tf141 x reader #task force 141

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yandere-sins · 15 days

Note

A yandere with a darling who is kinda worse than they are but are still into it.....I don't know how unhinged you'd have to be for the yan to be like "Are you ok? Like if you need to talk about it I've put listening devices in the vents but still..."

I didn't want this to go into compliant darling territory or the darling being the yandere for someone else (though I did laugh a lot at the idea of telling the darling that the vents are bugged just in case they need it lol that's a good one). But this somewhat brought me a kind of different idea which you probably didn't intend, but I hope you like it all the same!

Warnings: Yandere, Violence (Descriptive acts of murder, stabbing, punching other people, breaking bones, getting bloody, a lot of blood actually, burying bodies), Sexual Content (Mentioning of non-con, dub-con, taking advantage, doing it in the blood of victims and next to dead bodies), Mentioning of drugs, Mentioning of knives, Patient/Doctor relationships, Murderer/Admirerer relationships, Reader is a serial killer, Yandere captures people for reader to kill, Yandere is also mad but so is reader, Reader doubts yandere's reasons for liking them, Reader is genderneutral but gets lifted into a bridal-style at the end, I once again didn't compile these warnings while writing and editing so I might miss some, sorry :(, Mentioning of wanting to throw up, Reader doesn't actually want to get better, it was different but really fun to write, Long post?, I feel like there are more warnings... but I can't remember anymore, if you made it this far and still want to read it, I hope you enjoy it!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Click

You sighed, holding your head in your hands, arms squeezed between your torso and legs. Your head was throbbing with the headache of the century. One you hadn't had in a long time... like five days.

"You're a fucking dick, you know that?"

Groaning, you heard your own voice echo through your dizzy brain, nausea building as you felt like you were on a ship, everything moving unsteadily around you. The blinding lights flooding the off-white room didn't help soothe the feeling either, and your whole body kept tensing up, readying itself to throw up. You tried deep breaths, but they barely did anything. Not like they ever did something. You were too far gone for that.

"I did what was necessary," his voice rang out through the speaker in the top left corner, accompanied by the screeching of technical issues. You whined loudly, tearing your hair out as your head felt like it would burst. "My bad," he added, turning down the volume.

"What was it this time? Double the dose, triple? Must you keep drugging me? Some doctor you are..."

"I tried something new," he admitted, a cheeky grin in his voice.

"Worked great..." you slurred, listening to him chuckle.

For a while, you gave in to the need to collapse, putting your arm over your eyes to escape the lights while you thought about the last few things you could remember. Therapy was going well... at least that's what you were told. But the nurses—ugh. That one bitch.

"She did it on purpose," you mumbled, hearing the softest of agreement through the speaker. You knew that if it wasn't against regulation, he'd be sitting next to you, brushing your hair out of the way while you'd tell him your woes. He was that kind of sicko. A doctor, yet fascinated with you, his patient. Even though he merely sat behind the cameras, watching you, you could hear the sickening affection he held for only his favorite patient in every one of his words.

In a way, he wasn't that different from you.

"You beat her up real good, smashed her face in. Got yourself into a frenzy and just tore open all your stitches from your last fight while you were at it, you really..."

He sighed. He was disappointed. Upset. This was a significant setback for him, too, after all.

"She called me too stupid to ever recover properly and I was trying this time, really! How else should I have reacted?"

"You could have told me."

"And you would have dealt with her how?"

A brief chuckle rang out before he replied, although, had you been less delirious, you wouldn't have needed to ask. You knew what he did to people who behaved poorly with you. "I would have taken care of her, as always. You know you have my unending support."

You couldn't help a smile creeping over your face, the memory of burying the last nurse who bothered you in the asylum's cemetary resurfacing. Digging out the grave had been hard work, but you had to agree with him that the physical labor did wonders to soothe your ever-agitated mind.

"You're terrible," you mumbled, unable to hide your smile.

"Ah! There it is! Look at those little dimples! I'm glad my services are appreciated by my darling. I was hoping to take you out on a rendevous once the dust settles. Maybe we can do that sooner than I expected."

"Who'd want that, you sicko."

Groaning, you finally sat up, looking down at the cushioned floor while you adjusted to being awake. Standing took a few attempts; the cushions aligned along the wall, not actually graspable, even if they looked like it. Everything about the solitary cell was so safe, it made you feel helpless. But eventually you managed to get to your wobbly feet, sighing in exhaustion once you stood.

"There you go, breaking my heart," he sighed, and you shook your head with a laugh, knowing he didn't mean it.

"No straight jacket this time?" you asked, raising your arms and, for the first time since you awoke, realizing your movements were unrestraint.

"You weren't in a condition to restrain you. I prioritized your healing over that awful jacket."

"You just don't like it because it does nothing for my figure."

Again, you heard the grin in his voice as he said, "Busted. You're too cute to walk around constrained. Even though I love how crazy you look with it."

"Sicko..." you mumbled, your nickname for your doctor, endearing only in his ears.

Your limbs were terribly heavy as you moved them towards the door. Part of you wanted to collapse on the ground again; simply pass out where you were. But knowing him, he'd definitely use the opportunity to take advantage of you, especially now that he could get a video of it.

You didn't always mind what your doctor did to you. In a way, he was helpful even if everything you two did was against any laws in this country. If anyone knew what you two were getting into when no one was looking, you'd both be put down like rabid dogs. But that's just how you two were—feral.

The sicko kept telling you how he'd get you back on track. How he'd "fix" you just enough so you could go home with him. There was no way you'd consider living with him if you ever did get out. Still, he liked to paint the picture whenever he crawled into your bed while on night duty, hugging you and telling you about his ideas. You told him often enough that, given the chance, you'd kill him outside the safety of this institution, but so far... you hadn't.

You had enough chances, enough people he let you murder, watching you while you did it and helping you to hide the bodies once you were satisfied, but you never once turned the knife on him. Maybe it was because of his studies; perhaps he knew more about you than you about yourself. Or it was because he was just as insane. Fucking your patient in the blood of their victims was definitely not normal, even you knew that. So what other reason could he have for it except insanity?

"Earth to my darling, I repeat: Are you thirsty?"

You felt the heat spread over your face as you felt called out by his question, almost as if he was reading your mind. It wasn't like you two were lovers. There was no chance in hell you'd get together with someone like him—or anyone for that matter. You didn't want the burden of someone clinging to you while you did your dirty work.

But the sex after releasing all your pent-up anger? Out of this world.

Perhaps his doctorate was in fucking instead of psychiatry, but he knew how to work every part of his body. And he knew just how to get you in the mood, too. An explosive combination, mixing his lust with your madness.

That didn't change much about your feelings for him, though.

"I'm not," you muttered, trying to hide your face, which probably showed the embarrassment you felt, thinking of the last romp you two had. You tried the deep breaths again, but the thoughts kept popping back into your mind. Must be the drugs, you thought.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course!"

His excitement was loud and clear as it rang through the microphone, and you weren't sure if you should smile at it or sneer. For some reason, you both held each other in a tight grip, unable to be separated, yet most likely toxic for each other. But he still got excited over any kind of interest you had in him and you about all the things he did so you could live out your best life—even though you were locked away for a reason.

"Why me?" you asked, standing in front of the door, not looking up. Even if he was just the voice behind a camera at the moment, somehow, this question left a bad taste in your mouth. You didn't want him to see the conflict on your face; didn't want him to know that you were doubting how deserving you were of his favor. It wasn't insecurity, wasn't a need for reassurance, but how could anyone look at you and think, "That's the one!"? You killed people, went into violent rages, and weren't considered safe enough to be reintegrated into society, probably ever again. There was nothing you had to show for yourself. Nothing that could justify the feeling of adoration your own therapist held for you. Especially not he. He should have been one of the good ones. And you weren't. It made no sense to you why he'd behave like he did.

"Why you what?"

"Why do you like me so much? I mean, come on! I mean, look at us! We're batshit crazy! This isn't some romance movie on television, we're actually doing bad shit, and yet you keep shielding me, doing me favors, telling me you love me. I'm sure there are others out there who you can fix and fuck if you like. It's not like..."

Biting your own tongue, you wondered if it was the new drug combo he tried on you that made you feel especially irritated with his feelings that day. You let him do all this stuff to and with you, but now you were getting weirded out by it? It wasn't like you to get so worked up over him; you were more of the cool type, spitting-in-his-face-type if he pissed you off. You didn't even want to validate his feelings for you, but also... being self-aware enough to know you were a danger to humankind, you couldn't shake the feeling he might just be using you for his own sick desires. And that made you angry again. You'd not be a pawn or a means for no one.

Click

"Wow, okay, you bastard." Your grumbling fell on deaf ears as he turned off the microphone. "Sure, I'm going through something here, but by all means, stop listening. Not like it's your job or anything..."

Unprepared, you jolted back as the door to your cell suddenly yanked open, revealing the pitch-black corridor that lay behind. Apparently, it was late at night, but you couldn't focus on that as your doctor appeared from the shadows, a deep frown etched into his beautiful face. He should have been a model. At least that job wouldn't have led him to meet you.

"Do you doubt me?" he asked, stalking forward, undeterred by the open door, not thinking for a second that you'd try to escape. "Do I need a reason to love you for you to believe it?"

He caught your chin between his fingers, tilting your head back as he matched the steps you were taking backward. Soon, you'd run out of space to back into, but perhaps that was his goal.

"Can't I just love you because the first time you caved in and told me about the things you went through, things just felt... right? Everything just clicked in my head, and I thought, "Wow, I want to see them happy!" Must there be any other reason for me to love you?"

Your back hit the wall just as his eyes lowered to your lips, his thumb reaching up to brush over them. "I dream about those lips. I can't help but think about you no matter where I go. In the evening, I imagine you curled up on the couch next to me; sometimes, I hear your laugh when you aren't even there. I want that picture-perfect life with you, but the moment I step into your room and see you covered in blood, your eyes showing just how far gone you are, it just..."

He looked up again, his eyes swirling with all the emotions he tried to convey in his words. But when he met your gaze, the color drained, leaving behind what you could only describe as pure, unfiltered madness.

"It drives me insane."

His second hand raised to the side of your face. He cupped your cheek in his palm for a moment, a soft smile creeping over his lips. "I like you like this. Docile, calm, sweet. I like it when you ask me things, I like it when you beg for something. I like it when you only let me do things to you. I want to help you, I do! But..."

His hand sliding down, you looked away, trying to catch it before it slipped around your throat, pressing into it, squeezing so hard you felt as if your head was going to detach from your neck.

"I want to ruin you. I want you worse, I want you deranged. I want you to kill everyone and then me, so I'll be the last of your victims, the only one you remember. I want to be ruined by you so badly that every day, I hope you tell me about yet another staff member we get to kill, and then you can use me to satisfy your needs. Can't you understand? This is love. No one will ever love someone like you, but. I. do. I understand you, I care for you. And I will continue to do so, with no other reason than I love you. I love you so much."

You gasped for air at this point, fingers grabbing his arm. It was hard listening to him, but it was harder to breathe. You knew he wouldn't kill you. This was nothing compared to other things you two did to each other. It stung a little when he said no one else would ever love you, but he was right. Not unless the change everyone expected from you was also something you wanted.

But why would you?

The pressure on your throat disappeared, only for your breath to be stolen by his kiss. You hated this man. You hated him because he was a little bit too much like you. Too unhinged to be likable. And at the same time, he wasn't at all. He was too supportive, too nice, too forgiving. It disgusted you, honestly. Yet, you reciprocated, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Before he could back off, you caught his cheeks in a squeeze between your fingers to draw him back to lick off the red fluid, reminding him he wasn't the deranged one here.

"Don't question me again about my feelings, please," he asked, out of breath, too, as he bumped his forehead against yours. "I love you, I really do."

"You're a sicko, you know that? And your beard is stinging me, you should shave."

At this, he laughed out loud, raising his head to the ceiling. "I spent three days waiting for you to wake up. You can deal with some stubble."

"No, I don't like it."

Grinning, he lowered his face to you and gave you another peck on the lips. "It's gone tomorrow, I promise."

"Can I go back to my room now?"

He hummed thoughtfully before shaking his head. "Someone's awaiting their punishment still. You really want to miss out on that?"

Now it was your turn to grin as well. "Aww, you shouldn't have! Are we gonna cut up that bitch now? For real?"

"Anything for you," he mumbled, raising your hand to give it a quick smooch. "But let me change your bandages first. I don't want you to accidentally get sepsis if your wounds are still open."

"Surprisingly, you're still a doctor at heart."

"That's not true," he gasped, feigning indignation about your statement.

"Are you not?" you asked, watching him bend down to pick you up, bridal-style even. You weren't mad since your legs felt even weaker than before, and you really wanted to conserve your energy.

"I'm afraid it's no longer medicine that has claimed my heart."

He looked at you, smiling softly. "It's all you."

"And I can't help but love you more, realizing I am becoming more like you every day."

#yandere doctor #yandere!doctor #yandere therapist #yandere!therapist #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

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ameliora-j · 6 months

Note

therapist!steve x bully!eddie x reader is so good omg like literally drooling icl

please write more if you can <3

content: therapist!steve, bully!eddie, innocent!reader, power imbalance, pussy eating, degradation, semi public sex, voyeurism, modern!au, ass eating, impact play, masturbation (m!receiving), DARK CONTENT, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MDNI

after your session, you look up at eddie. “i… i know dr. harrington said that i like… ‘graduated’ or whatever,” you swallow thickly… nervously. “but um… i-if you wanna hang out or whatever we can” you smile shyly.

“awww…” eddie mocks softly, smiling a bit as he tucks a hair behind your ear. “you’ve liked being my little toy, haven’t you?” he teases.

“y-yeah…” you whisper. “yes, sir” you blush softly. he hums, kissing your head softly and silently taking your hand. the two of you walk to the parking lot together, eddie leading you to his van.

he opens the back doors and ushers you in. “since you’ve been such a good little girl for me, i suppose i should reward you” he hums softly, climbing in behind you. you blush softly, gazing at him with wide eyes as he pushes you back to lay against the few blankets on the floor and traces your thighs.

“i know this little cunt is still wet and leaking with my cum right now” he mutters, running his fingers over your slit through your thin little panties. “can feel it seeping out… sticking to these puffy little pussy lips” he hums.

he pushes your underwear aside and laughs. “god it’s so swollen… looks like i really destroyed this little virgin pussy” he mocks, slapping your clit a few times. you moan with each his, and eddie laughs at you once more.

“god you’re still so fucking pathetic” he whispers, spitting on your cunt. “wonder if this cunt tastes as good as it looks” he mumbles. licking a bold stripe through your cunt. your head falls back and you moan, your hands flying to grip his hair.

he shoves your hands away, pushing your legs so that your knees press to his chest. “hold them” he growls, spanking your ass. you nod and follow his order, holding your legs back to let eddie do as he wanted. he leaned down and spit on your cunt again, this time watching it trail down to your asshole.

eddie moans quietly, poking his tongue into your puckering rosebud. he pushes your cheeks apart, circling his tongue around in your hole and thrusting it a few times. he pulled back and spit on it, pushing a finger into your ass as his mouth reattached to your pussy.

you whine softly as your phone rings and eddie chuckled darkly. “answer it” he growls, nipping your clit. you shriek, nodding as you quickly follow orders, answering your phone. you’re practically gasping for breath as eddie sucks roughly at your clit, pushing a second finger into your asshole.

“hi yn, you forgot to book your next appointment” dr. harrington informs you.

“um… h-hi doctor…” you stammer through squeaks and moans, unable to hide them as eddie assaults your cunt with his mouth. “j-just… um… s-same time next week” you moan as eddie pushes a third finger into your ass and shoves his tongue into your pussy.

he licks around as if his tongue is looking for buried treasure, moaning as he slurps lewdly at your dripping cunt. “are you alright, yn?” he asks, and eddie chuckles against your pussy.

“tell him what i’m doing” eddie growls. “tell him what his filthy slut of a patient is enjoying right now” he mocks, slapping your pussy.

“i-i… eddie’s um… he’s eating my pussy and fingering my ass” you moan into the receiver, pushing eddie’s head closer.

“oh?” steve smirks as he undoes his pants and pulls his cock free. “well then lemme hear how good he makes you feel, pretty girl” steve mocks.

eddie smirks as he hears this, working twice as hard to make you cum. he slurps at your juices, nibbling on your clit as his fingers twirl around in your asshole. you’re sensitive from the brutal fucking he just gave you, even more turned on at dr. harrington’s low moans on the phone and the slick sounds of him wanking his cock.

“eddie fuck i…” you whine. “i’m gonna cum” you breathe, causing both med to groan.

eddie hums, pulling back just to harshly spank your clit a few times. “i’m not gonna stop if you do” he taunts. even with his threat in mind, the second that his lips attach to your clit and suck harshly at the same moment that his fingers curve in your asshole, you’re a goner.

your legs squeeze around his head, hips grinding up into his face as you hold him against your pussy, moaning loudly and singing praises to his name. true to his word, eddie continues to eat you out. he forces your legs wide open, continuing his assault on your sticky pussy as tears spill from the corner of your eyes, all while dr. harrington listens on the other end of the phone.

#nsfw.nani #dark.nani #steve harrington #eddie munson #therapist!steve #bully!eddie #therapist!steve harrington #bully!eddie munson #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #steddie smut #steddie #steddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader

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youryanderedaddy · 3 months

Text

tw: abuse of power, manipulation, mention of hypnosis, (technically) cheating

I'm thinking of a scummy therapist.

You go to him, because your life is a total mess. You had a massive fight with your boyfriend. Your boss cut your salary, and you had to change ofices. Your mother got sick and bedridden, forcing all the financial burden of the household on you. Even your best friend, the one you knew since highschool, started pulling away from you, responding less and less to your long paragraphs of endless ranting.

So you decide to put aside your pride for once, and seek help. Perhaps you should have done some more research - should have asked around or looked up reviews online, but one way or another you end up in Carl's office. The first thing you notice is his eyes. They're warm and kind, drawing you in. You feel like they're calling out to you, making you melt into a puddle of spilled secrets and hushed confessions. Then his hair - silver and slicked to the side, you almost want to reach in and touch it. He must be in his late 40s, but it's obvious that the man takes care of himself.

He welcomes you with a simple smile and a warm cup of tea every single time. He actually listens to you - unlike your partner or your friends who simply wait for you to finish so they can have their own turn to speak. He humms in agreement or shakes his head, letting out soft little mumbles along to your stories. He understands you. He assures you that it's not your fault. None of this is your fault - you're just a victim of circumstance. A victim of your terrible, selfish friends who don't even care about you, so maybe it's time to cut them off, no? And your boyfriend, does he really love you? After all, he's never really there for you when you need him the most. He's not the one wiping off the tears from your wet, puffy cheeks. He's not the one who embraces you warmly once you break down, letting go completely. He's not the one you call when you're drunk and alone - and he's not the one who picks you up at an ungodly hour.

You feel better, you really think you do. But your therapist seems to disagree, and you trust him. You know he only wants the best for you - he's your friend, so when he proposes a new type of treatment, hypnosis, you leave yourself in his capable hands. You let him guide you into a soft slumber, eyelids becoming heavier and heavier until you fall under a complete trance. You get shivers all over your skin, followed by soft touches - someone is stroking your cheeks, your wrists, the very tips of your fingers. Your skin feels hot and fiverish, you're not sure if you're sweating or if you're drowning in a sea of overwhelming - yet never strong enough, new emotions.

But then you wake up - and you're met with a familiar face you've grown to love. Somehow recently you can't stop thinking about Carl. You see him everywhere - on the street, on the way to your office, sometimes in your dreams, or between the hushed whispers in the dark of your shared bedroom. He makes you feel safer. When he's around, you can finally breathe freely. You can finally let go. And when he caresses your cheek gently and takes your hand in his, saying just how proud he is of his favourite patient - even though you still have a long, long way to go, you trust him. You can't imagine living without him now - but that's alright, because he assures you that he'd always be by your side, even if you never heal properly. Even if you stay broken - just for him.

#yandere #yancore #male yandere #yandere oneshot #male yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere male x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere therapist

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hellishjoel · 9 months

Text

dark paradise

5.2k / pairing: dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader

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pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

summary: Your mind is flooded with the memories of your private time with Joel in his woodshed, but he hasn't reached out to you since the bonfire and it's been a week. You go next door to give him a piece of your mind.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, smut, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, Joel in his 40’s), dbf/neighbor!joel, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, pet names, praise, Joel being a horrible communicator and texter

A/N: I edited this 12+ times and kept changing stuff, so therefore there’s probably mistakes. There’s your one and only warning lol. I’m so excited you guys are eating up the first part (off to the races), I hope the next parts to come keep ya’ll entertained ;)

“Joel-” You clenched your eyes closed. “Outside? Are you serious?” Your scolded whispers were useless. Now that Joel knew you had these needs, he wasn’t going to let you be underserved. He perched one of your legs over his shoulder, the other spread to the side and held open by the warm palm of his hand. You could feel his hot breath on your inner thighs, your walls fluttering as he came closer and closer to your core with each kiss to the exposed skin. “On the tailgate, Joel?” You whimpered, a flash of concern passing over your face. “I know how much you love the truck, baby.” Son of a bitch.

Time seemed to slow after your interaction with Joel in his woodshed. The days following the bonfire were filled with excitement but quickly followed by dread and anxiety. It had been a week.

No text, no calls, no anything.

It wasn’t that serious. It was just Joel. Besides, you had a vibrator to fill the void until he finally decided to reach out to you. Whenever that may be.

Days one and two were the most riveting. Every time you thought of Joel, your heart raced a little faster. You didn’t have a long list of sexual endeavors, so this was still noteworthy. Giving head to your hot forty-year-old neighbor. You wondered what else would come from it. More importantly, when.

Days three and four felt routine and mundane. After picking around your breakfast and staring out the window to Joel’s empty driveway, you would wander to your back porch to read a book on the dock.

You were lucky to catch glimpses of Sarah. Her summer was busy with her friends from school and working a part-time job to afford having fun the summer before her senior year. If she was free, you guys would jump in the lake, sit on the dock together, tell stories, and catch up on everything that was happening in each other’s lives. Well, not everything.

Days five and six were torture. Your vibrator had died from its excessive use, and your fingers weren’t cutting it. You wanted Joel, you needed Joel. You hated to admit it, especially since he hadn’t paid a singular ounce of attention to you since the bonfire last Saturday. Even worse, after deciding to watch Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron with your family during a movie night, you started thinking even the horse was kind of attractive.

Day seven started with your room covered in a pale blue light. You didn’t know what time it was. You weren’t sure how much you slept, but you knew it was very little. This ache was pestering your insides, spreading a rot like an old tree log. Your mind couldn’t fade away from the way Joel felt inside your mouth, the way he filled your throat, and you breathed through the choke. Or the way he finished on your face and your tongue.

Your well-painted memory of it all was already beginning to fade. The details weren’t as crisp, you wanted to remember every detail and hold on to it for as long as possible.

That’s what you were trying to imagine at this ungodly early morning hour. The birds weren’t even chirping outside yet. Your fan slowly circled, trying to cool you off from the sticky Texas heat. You wished your windows weren’t jammed closed.

You heard a thud outside, your body alert as you swiftly sat up and peeked out the window.

Despite it being a Saturday, you watched a tired and slow Joel walk out to his old pickup truck and toss a brown bag lunch inside. Where was he off to so early?

He was wearing his chunky worn-in work boots, splattered with drops of white paint stained into the leather by the steel toe. They were heavy with each step he took on his rickety wooden deck. His faded dark blue jeans sat snug on his hips with his wallet stuffed in the back pocket. His dark hair dashed with silver grays was still damp from his morning shower.��

You watched behind foggy glass as he patted down his jeans and mumbled something, swiftly turning on his heel and lightly jogging up his steps before disappearing inside again.

Seeing him after a week of silence bubbled up a hint of anger and annoyance in you. It annoyed you that he looked so good.

Your feet found their way onto cold hardwood before you could waste another second. You would give him a piece of your mind in fuzzy slippers and an oversized rusty-orange Texas Longhorns t-shirt that was so draped over you that it covered your black sleep shorts.

You tiredly navigated your way out of your room quietly, not to wake your parents down the hall. You crossed your arms and hugged them to your body, the early morning chill hitting you once you were outside. You crossed your driveway to his truck, slowing once you reached his perched-down tailgate. Joel had resurged from his house with his truck keys in hand, his steps slowing once you two shared eye contact.

You’d be standing here all day if you expected Joel to speak first.

“Hey.”

He gave you a small nod, his eyes dropping to the shirt that reached the tops of your thighs before they managed their way back up to your face. “Mornin’.”

He closed the gap between his porch steps and his tailgate, setting down his toolbelt and box in the bed. He looked rigid, tight in the shoulders and chest. His close proximity made you step a few paces back, the length of the tailgate separating you from Joel.

You were afraid that if he stood too close, he might feel how badly you wanted him by radiation alone. Especially now, fresh out of the shower, half-wet curls plastered to his forehead, still smelling a little musky with his body wash.

You finally let out an aggravated sigh, hip landing against the tailgate with your arms still crossed.

“So… where are you going this early on a Saturday?” Your face still held a slightly pinched expression though you tried to ask a casual question.

Your curiosity made the left side of his mouth tick up in a lopsided little smirk.

“You wanna tell me the real reason you came over here?” Joel’s tactics were ruthless. It made you feel small, young. But you weren’t, not anymore.

You took in a sharp breath through your nose, eyes on his as your head fell to the side. Finally, the ticking time bomb inside you was counting down. All of your pent-up sexual frustration would be launched at this lumberjack of a man.

“You haven’t texted me.”

“Christ,” he muttered, annoyance passing over his face. “Sun’s not even up yet.”

“Joel.” You pushed.

“Haven’t texted you in a few years.” He said lamely.

“I know, the last thing I have from you is asking me what you think my dad would like for a birthday present.”

“I value your input.” His teasing didn’t make you any less angry. Joel could tell. “I don’t text anyone much besides Sarah. ‘ts the only way I can get ahold of her. Don’t even remember I own a phone half the time.”

“I know.” Your arms crossed tighter around your body. “But I have… needs.” Your voice awkwardly teetered as you evaded his eye contact.

“Needs? Do ya, now?” Joel’s accent came out swinging, his signature smirky-smile working in combination with his cocked up eyebrow. But your face held evidence of your disappointment.

There’s a gentle lull. He should have texted you, and you shouldn’t be here telling him that. He knows. Or maybe you shouldn’t expect so much from a guy like Joel. No wedding ring, brooding, a bull with horns, Joel. Wouldn’t know it was his birthday without Sarah reminding him, Joel. Wouldn’t leave the house if he didn’t have to, Joel. Wouldn’t think to text his horny neighbor next door, Joel.

“Didn’t text me either, sweetheart.” He points out, making your head snap up with wide doe eyes. Shit. He was right.

You didn’t text him, either. You were just sort of expecting it out of him. You hoped he would lead the way, be the guide, reach out wanting more. But that wasn’t Joel. Were you both playing this devilish waiting game? You felt a little silly, your insides wrapping in knots as he surveyed you.

“Well I-”

“You what?”

He was the one grilling into you now. The sun began cresting over the water, bleaching your surroundings in a pale orange. The sun’s glare caused Joel’s eyes to squint slightly to block it out.

You rolled your head to the side and wiggled around as you tried to stand still against his tailgate. Your frustrations were evident as you rubbed your crossed legs together.

This wasn’t the same girl who took a leap of faith in his woodshed, who crossed the boundary between nothing to something, and set you and Joel up for a thrilling summer. You just wanted him to tell you that he wanted it too. To fuck around and do something different. Make this summer worth a damn.

“I didn’t know if you wanted more.” You finally muster up, your voice smaller than you intended, shifty eyes looking over his.

Your statement made him scoff, having to look away from you with a wicked smile. The orange luminescence of the sun warmed his otherwise cold face. He was amused, maybe even a little offended by your statement.

“‘Course I want more.” He strained before pausing, his voice lowering as he took another step closer. “Look at you. Wearin’ my shirt.” He said before he towered over you, making the first point of contact as his hand reached for your hip and pulled you in closer, his fist clutching the worn-in orange t-shirt.

You blinked a few times before looking down where he fisted the material. Shit. He was right again.

Joel had given this to you the last summer you were in Danbury. You and Sarah took a late-night dip in the lake, and she wanted you to sleep over and watch a movie in the basement. You were too lazy to walk back home and change, so Joel gave you a towel and his Longhorns t-shirt.

You easily could have snagged a shirt from Sarah’s closet, but Joel caught you sneaking into his house and dripping water everywhere.

“Just take this. Go dry off. Get warmed up.” A statement laced with annoyance and precaution for his floors, but also attentive care.

It was probably supposed to be just for the night, but you stole it.

You remember that evening vividly. It was the first time you fantasized about Joel. Because the shirt wrapped you up and smelled of his musk and deodorant. It brought on a certain warm fuzziness in your tummy. The shirt had been incorporated so much in your wardrobe these last two years or so, you had forgotten its origin. But it was Joel’s.

And now you were standing here in front of him, his shirt draped over your body like an oversized blanket, showing the curves of your tits. He was fantasizing about you too. Fucking you while wearing his shirt.

There was an undeniable tension that now settled between the two of you, one you surely couldn’t satisfy in his driveway. But that didn’t mean Joel didn’t feel the same way.

His hold on your hip tightened, your lips parting in surprise as his other hand came to your waist and hoisted you up onto the tailgate of his truck.

He was hot, possessive of your body wrapped in his shirt.

“Does it look like I don’t want you?” Joel’s voice was husky, lust filled. You liked getting this sort of reaction out of him. His question caused an ache in you, white heat pooling in the base of your stomach.

Your neediness for him returned. Addicted to his touch, you felt a rush of adrenaline pulse through your body. Joel parted your legs with his body by standing between them, your little fists gripping his large biceps as you tried to regain your bearings. He was so big and burly, wide set shoulders, and a toned chest. You wanted to see him shirtless, examine his body when your time together wasn’t so limited.

“Joel,” his name dripped off your lips with desperation, sweet like honey. He knew how you said his name when you wanted him. It brought back vivid memories of you kneeling in front of him in his woodshed.

Comfort brought you back, knowing it was safe to lean in and start kissing his stubbled neck. You didn’t want to kiss his lips, it still felt too intimate. Joel picked up on your hesitations and silently obeyed.

Once you got to the base of his neck by the collar of his shirt, he let out a surprisingly loud grunt that he tried to jam down into silence but had failed. It caught you off guard, the ways he displayed his pleasure.

You moved back in, eager to duplicate the noise as you paid special attention to his sweet spot. You suckled and glided your teeth over the pinpoint before he forced himself away.

“Keep it below the collar, sweetheart.” His twangy southern drawl was drenched in pleasure.

You smirked as you tugged at the collar gently with your teeth, letting it go and seeing it snap back into place around his tan neck.

His lips found the crook of your jawline, his lips brushing your earlobe as he took it between his teeth and gently nibbled. The sensation struck a nerve down your center, a weak whine echoing against the collar of his shirt as you tried to stay quiet.

The air had warmed up with the sun’s presence, the birds starting to chirp. Your parents could wake up any minute now, being the early risers they were.

You pulled away to gauge his reaction. Joel was looking between you and the horizon carefully. He was debating. You both had so little time.

“Your parents.” He pointed out, his voice ridged with pain as he planted his body between yours, his large palms splayed on your lower back and upper thigh with his fingers ghosting your sleep shorts.

“Work.” You reminded, lightly tugging on the sleeve of his shirt, fingers delicately brushing over the faded Miller Contracting logo on his breast pocket.

You’re compelled to tell him that you need him. Because you do. You need him terribly.

There was a silence, a deliberation of the masses. Stop while you’re ahead, at least you and Joel realized you were on the same page about wanting more. You could let him go, you should let him go. Meet up another time when it was less risky.

“You’re not pulling away.” Your whisper broke his thoughts. Your long lashes fluttered, and your eyes were filled with an eagerness only Joel could satisfy.

He rolled his head around, jaw tight before shaking his head.

“Well, you have needs.” His words were filled with grit, promise. Be quick.

Your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, feeling the planes of his back under your small palms. Both of Joel’s big hands moved under your t-shirt, your lips parting at the feeling of his calloused and rough hands traversing your soft body. He liked how soft you were, you could tell by the way he was delicately exploring you with his lips plastered on your neck.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whisper, grinding your hips against his desperately while one of your hands wound into the damp curls at the base of his neck. He could use a haircut soon, the longer strands winding around your fingers.

His body loomed so much over you that you were arching your spine, your legs desperately wrapping loose around his waist until he had sufficiently guided you onto your back.

Suddenly his presence lifted. You didn’t realize you were seeing stars until he pulled away. He had way too much of an effect on you.

“Don’t have time to fuck you right, pretty girl.” His words made you puff out a desperate sigh.

“But-”

“But you have needs.” He finished for you, your head feverishly nodding. The truck bed had odd ribs, half your back raised up an inch while your other half was on a little slant. It was uncomfortable to lay your head down on. Once Joel was tugging down your sleep shorts, you were quick to forget the discomfort.

A heavy breath left you as Joel tossed your shorts over his tool belt in the truck bed beside you, feeling him pull your body closer to the edge of the truck bed with your legs pried open for him.

Your eyes widened as he sunk to the ground, jaw dropping as your eyes looked to the sky. Holy shit.

“Joel-” You clenched your eyes closed. “Outside? Are you serious?” Your scolded whispers were useless. Now that Joel knew you had these needs, he wasn’t going to let you be underserved.

He perched one of your legs over his shoulder, the other spread to the side and held open by the warm palm of his hand. You could feel his hot breath on your inner thighs, your walls fluttering as he came closer and closer to your core with each kiss to the exposed skin.

“On the tailgate, Joel?” You whimpered, a flash of concern passing over your face.

“I know how much you love the truck, baby.” Son of a bitch.

You wished every second with him right now wasn’t fleeting. You wished he could take his time. But the both of you were so wound up anyway, you were happy just to have him be a guest between your legs.

Joel’s beard stubble tickled your thighs, his warm lips leaving a wet trail to your cotton underwear. Your hands needed to stay busy, one planting itself against one of the ribs of the truck bed and the other fisting his toolbelt that adorned a Carhartt patch.

Joel’s mouth was absent for a moment. He was admiring you. Admiring you with your legs spread for him in his Longhorns shirt that was several sizes too big on you. Heat chased through your body, a sly little smirk on your lips.

“Time is of the essence, Joel.”

He didn’t say anything back. He was staring at the wet spot that had formed through the material of your panties. He hummed, cocky satisfaction filling him to the brim.

Joel placed an excruciatingly soft kiss over your covered mound that had you writhing under him eagerly. His palm planted your thigh down again, feeling you quiver under his hold.

You swallowed a lump down your throat as he pulled your underwear to the side, out of his fucking way. He was seeing you for the first time. It made your chest heave with shakier breaths.

You were glistening for him, wet and gleaming in the sunshine that was starting to dance across the lake and over the truck. Panic flooded your core. He was taking his damn time. You needed him now.

“Joel-” you warned again, but it was too late.

His nose nuzzled against your clit as he flattened his tongue and licked up your center, tasting you properly. Your head dug into the truck bed, a loose moan leaving your parted lips as you closed your eyes and experienced a sweet paradise. His tongue flooded you with his saliva, Joel’s taste buds in galore as he tried you for the first time.

You wondered if he thought about you tasting you like this before. The thought as well as his head between your legs left you humming in appreciation.

Your free hand found its purpose, nestling your fingers into Joel’s hair while his head made gentle nods against your core. His jaw was slack, mouth lodged open as he consumed your sex in its entirety. He didn’t leave one centimeter of you unmarked. He commandeered the landscape like it was his territory, his possession.

Puffs of his name left your mouth, you couldn’t help but be vocal when he made you feel this good.

Joel’s tongue moved now with purpose, precision. He lapped at your entrance, tongue dipping in to feel your tight walls before moving back up and around your swollen clit. He was discovering you, what made you tick, what made you burn with passion and lust.

You held back moans of his name, bringing Joel’s shirt you wore up into your mouth by the collar to bite down onto. Your muffles were concealed by the material for now.

You ground your hips lightly into his face, finding a rhythm you liked. He lets you. He wants you to feel good.

Thumps of your heart pounded against your chest, Joel’s tongue still working perfect circles and swipes at your clit. He pulled away just for a moment to wet his fingers, you watch through hooded eyes. His amber ones flick to yours. Can I?

You nod your head, a silent and desperate yes.

He pursed his lips, face pierced with concentration as he pushed his middle finger into you, your walls welcoming the intrusion with a flood of arousal to allow him deeper. You took in a shaky gasp as he filled you to the knuckle.

“Fuckk-” you said a little too loud, your eyes widening as you covered your mouth and got a well-deserved glare from Joel.

“Can’t hold yourself together, can ya, pretty girl?” His voice was as rough as gravel.

You couldn’t even answer him back, the threads that held together your integrity were slowly plucking loose.

You whimpered like crazy, the shirt swallowing as much of the noise as it could, but the rhythm of his finger and his mouth returning to your clit was sending electric currents through your entire body. You were short-circuiting with Joel’s tongue and fingers playing with your pussy.

Joel’s mouth was warm, the taste of you a new hunger for him. You could hear his jeans scuff against the ground. He was trying to hold himself steady. The realization made you throw your head back, losing the shirt as a vice as you gripped his strands tighter between your knuckles.

“Fuck, Joel--, ohmygod-” you whimpered quietly. The slurping of your cunt was louder than your words. The noise felt so loud in your pounding ear drums, you were worried it would wake the neighbors. The neighbors being your parents and Joel’s daughter.

You were close, even with just one of his fingers inside of you, you were close. You

weren’t sure if it was because of your pent-up sexual tension, your vibrator dying, or your fingers not doing you justice. Maybe it was the fact that it was Joel Miller, but you were holding onto a very thin rope on the verge of snapping.

You pulled your shirt up, releasing his toolbelt as your hand fondled your tits. You could feel him smirk against your thighs as you pinched at your hardened round nipples.

“Such a pretty girl.. Taste so fuckin’ good too.” His words reverberate against your core, the vibrations tickling your clit and making you whine his name. His compliment caused a certain warmth in your chest.

Your head lulled from side to side. He wasn’t letting you know peace once he added a second finger. You had to take a moment to adjust but Joel could feel it, he knew exactly what to do and when. He was so seasoned, experienced, he’d be the first guy to make you cum like this.

Your thigh against his head clenched tighter around his shoulder, keeping him in close against your core as he continued to work his tongue in figure eights around your clit. The soothing circles were creating a harmonious rhythm, your stomach felt like it was going to fall through a trapdoor. You weren’t going to last much longer.

Then he tried something new.

A loud gasp left your lips, your body scraping its way to sit up on your elbows as you watched him nibble and suckle at your clit. Your elbow had nicked his exposed flathead screwdriver in the process, a hiss seething from your mouth. It didn’t matter now. All your mind could focus on was Joel and his hellish tongue.

The suckling at your clit unlocked something undiscovered, your lips parting in fascination before your head fell back and landed on the tops of your shoulders as you looked to the heavens with blurry vision.

A lazy smirk was plastered on your face as he held you in place. You weren’t going anywhere.

Heated pants left your mouth, unable to breathe with the new sensation. The sucking was a distinct sensation, one you liked. You could feel his teeth just lightly grazing your sensitive bud. It made your thighs twitch, and your walls flutter around his still pumping fingers.

Joel’s digits moved gently with their thrust, a gasp of his name flooding the air as he curled them deep, massaging your spongy walls.

You were breathless. You could barely muster up anything besides his name weakly on your lips. You tried to tell him, but it was already too late.

“J-Joel I’m-- I’m cominggg, shit,” you moaned out a little too loud. The whole valley around you echoed, or so it seemed. Joel’s protective grip tightened, your hips convulsing as you came over his tongue. He fucking loved it. He held you there and took you for everything you were worth.

You dropped to your back once more, his fingers still working a slow rhythm that he was insistent on not breaking until your walls stopped fluttering around his knuckles. You were still trying to come down to Earth when he licked you clean, your body twitching every time he flicked his tongue against your throbbing clit on purpose. Fucking asshole.

Your hold on his hair loosens. You can’t help but make a face at the sight of him. Wild curly locks, mouth and chin covered in your slick, slightly flushed cheeks. He looked just as fucked as you did. He looked submissive on his knees, his eyes gleaming as he looked to you.

You watch with obsession as he mindlessly pops his two fingers past his lips, licking them clean of your slick. Such a compliment.

He guided your leg off his shoulder and put your underwear back in its place.

You leaned up on your elbows, still seeing stars. Joel stood up from the ground and brushed any residual dirt and dust off his jeans. He brought his hand up and toyed with his jaw, meaty fingers adding pressure into the masseter muscle as he worked to relieve the tension that had built while going down on you with such dedication.

You weakly sat up, the slotted ribs of his truck bed making indents in the flesh of your arms and thighs. Brands of your filth. Your big shirt fell back into place, your legs swinging lightly as they hung off the truck bed. You glanced at the back of your arm, seeing the scrape from his tools. You’d be fine.

Once you turned straight to face Joel once more, you noticed he was fighting back a little smile about something, his hands on his hips and his knee cocked out.

“What?” You ask, trying to scoot further down the tailgate.

“Nothin’.” He said gruffly, taking you by your hips and lifting you with ease like a ragdoll back onto the ground. His eyes stayed on the floor, your curious gaze following his down to your fluffy slippers.

“Oh.” You muster up, clicking the toes together.

“They’re uh… cute.” He tried to compliment, still with a teasing smirk on his face.

“Shut up. They’re slippers.” You griped, your hand coming up to wipe away the glisten on his chin. He took over, pinching the collar of his shirt between his fingers and bringing it up to wipe away what was left of you. It was oddly attractive.

He reached past his toolbox and belt, handing over your black sleep shorts after feeling over the material for a moment with a swipe of his thumb.

You muster up a thanks, looping one foot in and then the other before you adjusted the band around your waist, the orange t-shirt falling back into place at your thighs.

You couldn’t help but look around, the serenity of the early morning hours would only last so long on the lake. People liked to walk their dogs and jog, you didn’t want anyone reporting gossip.

You turned back to Joel and assessed him. The Texas sun was already making both of your skin swelter, despite it being just past sunrise.

You took in a sharp breath to say something, pursing your lips to keep them shut. Joel looked at you expectantly.

“What?”

You shook your head and shrugged, holding your hands behind your back as you teetered on your feet.

A stern expression passed over his face. “What?” He pressed harder.

You tried to smother a laugh. “Your hair, Joel.”

With an annoyed sigh, Joel amused trying to tousle his curls into place with the assistance of his truck’s driver-side mirror, grumbling a few curse words in response before leaving it be.

You admire him, how handsome he looks so effortlessly. You suddenly became glaringly aware of how you looked right now. No makeup, baggy clothes, could use a shower. Fuck.

“I gotta get goin’, already late.” Joel said as he returned to the tailgate, lifting it with ease and slamming it into place with a few sharp snaps. “I’ll see you. And I’ll message you.”

A small smile ticked at one half of your mouth, nodding. It was a promise. “Please call it texting, Joel.”

He furrowed his brows as he looked over your face. “What difference does it make?”

You snickered and shrugged. “How old you sound.”

Cue the classic Joel Miller eye roll. “Fine. Textin’.”

“How can you be working on a Saturday? That feels illegal.”

This mustered up a short little chortle from Joel. “It’s not technically working, that’s why.”

Your head curiously tilted to the side. “What do you mean?”

Joel shrugged, avoiding your eye contact as he looked past his truck and to the lake.

This was what you had to deal with. Trying to get information out of Joel was an investigative effort, one you didn’t have the energy to dig into at the moment. You finally felt tired after your week of restlessness.

You waved each other off, your face electric as you turned away from Joel and snuck back inside without a peep. As soon as you lay back in bed, feeling your heart thumping after your meet-up with Joel, you heard the door to your parent’s room crack open, and your father’s obnoxious morning yawn followed accordingly. Couldn’t have cut it any closer.

Finally, you felt sleep caressing the edges of your mind. Not a beat after your head hit the pillow, you felt your phone vibrate beside you. With hazy eyes, you turned it over in your palm and squinted at the brightness.

joel miller Anything I can do to get in your good graces again?

You instantly smiled, lazy fingers typing a response.

how about a movie night?

He took a moment to respond. You could see him thinking it over in your mind’s eye.

joel miller Fine.

Your face lit up as you quickly took advantage of him owing you one.

and I can pick the movie?

You could practically feel Joel’s eye roll from a mile away.

joel miller Jesus. Fine. Tomorrow night.

Tomorrow was perfect. Sarah said she would be on a camping trip and your parents would be visiting old school friends in a neighboring town for drinks and dinner.

tomorrow night it is, mr. miller

joel miller Whatever you say sweetheart.

---

wanna read part 3? read cherry!

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blackopals-world · 1 month

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Vet!Yuu: Sorry professor, but we are staging an intervention.

Nurse!Yuu: You can't date our aunt.

Marine Biologist!Yuu: It's for the best.

Crewel: Come on pups, we are both adults. What's wrong with that?

Nurse!Yuu: She will eat you alive.

Crewel: I hope so.

Marine Biologist!Yuu: She drinks.

Crewel: And I smoke.

Vet!Yuu: We think she killed her last husband.

Crewel: I can fix her.

MarineBiologist!Yuu: He's too far gone.

Vet!Yuu: Twitterpated.

Nurse!Yuu: It was nice knowing him.

Therapist!Yuu:(walking in) Oh, what are you doing here kittens?

The triplets: (smiling and acting innocent) Nothing Auntie~

Therapist!Yuu: Divis honeypie, I hope they aren't bothering you. They are angels but they tend to be little gossips. So how about we take the tin can for a joyride, I just slapped a new coat of paint on it.

Crewel: I'll be there.

Therapist!Yuu: Oh, and kittens. Don't go being chatterboxes unless you want to find out what really happened to your uncle Earl.

(No one liked him anyways)

#therapist!yuu #nurse!yuu #marine biologist!yuu #vet!yuu #yuuniverse #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst crewel #twst divus #divus crewel x reader #twisted wonderland divus #divus crewel

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ghouljams · 9 months

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Alright!! Here's the end of the first act of the Medieval AU, in which I hit poor reader with a stick multiple times and Knight!Ghost makes it better.

TW: this handles some stuff around sexual assault/sexual trauma, virginity politics, and period typical misogyny

You’ve always thought of sex as something that will be forced on you. Dreading your marriage night has become the norm for you. Even before Ghost came into your life. Though after his entrance it came to mean so much more than just an unpleasant night. It’s losing Ghost, losing the spare hope that somehow you could be his. Because you think if it was with him it might be nice. The way he touches you, the way he takes care of you, he’s kind, terribly so. He’s good to you, he’d be good to you.

Ghost presses his lips against yours, gentle pressure you instantly crave more of. He turns your head to kiss your cheek, your jaw, to press his nose against your pulse and breathe you in. His fingers in your hair direct you as he likes, and you’re more than willing to let him. Your eyes are heavy, everything wonderfully soft and ever so slightly out of focus. You run your hands over his bare shoulders, feel the firm muscle, trail them up to feel his jaw as he kisses your neck.

“You’re beautiful,” He whispers to you, his voice low in your ear. Your stomach clenches, your skin prickling with heat. Ghost’s hands are so gentle with you, exploratory as they run down your sides and up your stomach. His lips follow them over your chest, making you squirm and press into his touch.

“My lady,” He presses his words into your skin. His, you think, just his for as long as he’ll have you. No one matters like him, no one holds you like him, keeps you like him. You want him to keep you. You want to be his, greedily, you want him to be yours too. It’s not a quality you’re supposed to have. You aren’t supposed to want like this.

You aren’t supposed to dig your fingers into his shoulders, not supposed to let your legs fall open when he nudges his knee between them. “Just like that Princess,” He tells you, his voice raspy in a way that makes heat bloom over your cheeks, “spread your legs so everyone can see what a selfish little whore you are.”

Your head is jerked to look at the crowd of shadows gathered around you, their eyes so wide and watchful you don’t know how you didn’t feel them raking over your exposed skin before. You feel panic well in your chest, grabbing the sheets quickly to try and cover yourself. You scramble away from Ghost and he lets you, hardly bothered by your rapid breaths or the tears quickly gathering in your eyes.

“They already think you’re ruined,” He doesn’t sound like Ghost, voice cruel and taunting, “All because you value a knight over the only thing you’re good for.” His eyes aren’t Ghost’s, the shifting and changing shape and color, his face flickering through your previous suitors. “He won’t want you anyway once you’re sold, he doesn’t even want you now,” His hand grabs your cheeks between rough fingers and you push at his face- their many faces- you don’t like this, you don’t like this, you don’t- “Are you really so stupid as to think he’d protect you from your husband. This is your duty princess, and his is not to interfere.” Their hands push between your legs.

Your sobs shake you awake, heaving, trembling things. You scorn propriety and wail. Let the whole castle hear you, you don’t care. You’re a horrible princess, a terrible, selfish, greedy thing that hardly deserves the title. You know all of this, and yet you still sob because you want Ghost. You want your knight, you want the man that’s slowly leading you to ruin. The man that’s planted an altar of thorns around your heart and laid his kindness upon it like a lamb to slaughter. You want him to hold you and tell you it was all lies. That he wants you like you want him.

You sob, feel the fat tears roll down your cheeks and fall on your blankets. You sob, feel it scratch your throat raw, your chest barely expanding enough to compensate for the despair that rattles out of you. One of your nightly guards comes into the room to check on you and you scream at him. Force the sound out of you like a banshee until it rips your vocal cords. You hope it shreds them.

What a picture you’d make then.

What a picture you must make now.

The guard leaves in a hurry, apparently having deemed you safe from external threats, but mad enough not to stick around. It feels good to scream. You do it again, and again, curling in on yourself as you clutch your pain to your chest. The world can fall away like this, leave you to your self infliction. Who cares. It’s all bullshit anyway.

"How long has she been like this?" The voice is furious, unfamiliar. You’ve never heard anyone that mad in your life. You can barely hear the reply over your hiccuping sobs. You don’t want people in your room, you don’t want them to see you like this. Not when you feel like a child throwing a tantrum. Some part of you is still clinging to decorum even now. How well trained you are.

“Get out!” You shout, reach behind you to grab a pillow to throw blindly at the intruder.

Big warm hands grab you and pull you from your misery, wild brown eyes dart over you searching for injury. Ghost pushes your hair from your face, and you scream at him the same as you screamed at your night guard.

He’s not wearing his mask, in the back of your mind you wonder if he came here like that. He pulls you against his chest, presses your face to his shoulder to stifle your screaming. His frame curls over you, shielding you from the world you were trying to drown out. You can feel the rapid expanding and contracting of his chest, his breath quick, as he drops his head to your shoulder. You wonder if he ran here.

“I’m sorry I was late,” He tells you, and you fall apart again.

The way you shake and curl up in his arms, guarding yourself against whatever hurts you, breaks his heart. His poor love. Ghost wraps his arm more tightly around your shoulders, holds the back of your head as he turns to kiss your temple. “You’re alright,” He whispers, “I have you, you’re safe.” Your sobs feel like a full body effort. Each one wracks your chest and forces the air from your lungs. He can feel your tears soaking through his shirt. God, you- you’re safe. You’re safe.

He repeats it to himself, presses his lips to your cheek, your shoulder, keeps you held as tightly as he dares. He’d seen the maids running from your room for the court physician, and assumed the worst. Assumed you’d been screaming due to some grave injury, that he’d find you bloody, and- But these were just tears, anyone should have been able to help you through your tears. How long had you been screaming alone? How long had you been left to deal with your pain while others whispered about sedation?

Ghost feels his anger bubbling again, feels the hot licks of fury against his ribs as your sobs settle into gentle hiccups. You don’t need his anger right now, but it will come. Later. Now he does his best to keep his voice from shaking, to keep it gentle for you.

“Tell me what happened.” So that he can take his revenge on whatever hurt you.

Your breath shudders. “You let them touch me,” you sob, your hands desperate where they hold onto his shirt. Ghost’s heart stops, he feels his grip on you tighten more than wills it.

“Never,” He growls, forcing himself to look at the remaining staff in your room, “No one is coming near you.” It’s a threat, he means it as a threat. He’s never felt more dangerous than he does in this moment. Never felt more sure of his own deadly precision. At least your court lady is smart enough to usher the rest of the nervous onlookers out of the room. “Who touched you?” He watches the door shut tight, tries to keep the anger out of his voice. Who the fuck would be stupid enough to touch what was his?

“I-” You hesitate as Ghost slides his thumb against your tear stained cheek, “I want to be selfish.” Your poor hoarse voice, he’s almost willing to let you change the subject when you sound like that. Screamed yourself raw, and they all let you.

“Who touched you princess?” He asks again.

“No one,” Your voice raises and breaks without your willing it to.

“No one,” Ghost repeats, feeling his shoulders drop with relief.

“What would you do if they did?” You ask him, and he knows exactly what he’d do, “Nothing.” Ghost stills. “You’ll throw me to my wedding night the same as the rest. Give me up as is your duty and ask me to forget every time you’ve touched me. How can you ask me to forget that, when every time I touch you I ache for the next time you’ll let me close? How can you hold me like this before you throw me to the wolves?”

Blood rushes in Ghost’s ears, his breaths short as he listens to you swallow your heart. No. He’s not so noble as to give you up like that. He imagines it, how chivalrous he’ll be letting you go. But he knows. He’s not a noble man, not kind, not half as honorable as he pretends to be. He can’t leave you in anyone else’s hands. No one else can have you, no one deserves you. Not when they’ll let you scream yourself hoarse. Not when their first thought is to sedate you in your grief. No. He knows.

He’d kill your husband before he ever reached your wedding bed.

He tips your head back and kisses you. You all but melt against him, your soft lips wet with your tears, sweet and salty. And warm. You’re so warm. How could he ever delude himself into thinking he could give you up? You’re right. You slide your lips against his with a sigh, and all he can do is ache for the next gentle kiss you give him.

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley #x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #knight!ghost #princess!reader #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #medieval au #when you only hear about how awful sex is and how it's your duty to give it up #you tend to develop some complicated feelings about it #I was explaining this whole chapter to my therapist and she was like #woah and people like when you write this?#no but it's cathartic for me so I'm writing it anyway

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