#who's who x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr’s reach among the 26-to-35-year-olds in the US is 11%.

oneprompt · 2 years

Note

Hello dear! Hope you'll feel better soon <3

For the Fluff Alphabet could I get G with Killer and S with Who's Who, please? Thank you in advance 💕

authors note : aw , thank you , doll <3 ly , please enjoy to the fullest <33

Killer Fluff Alphabet : G

- How gentle are they? (physically x emotionally) : Killer is an absolute sweetheart, even to the upmost cruel people. To you, he is beyond gentle. Killer is a bit touchy with his lover, he always makes sure to act delicate with you, making sure to not grab you too roughly. Killer is the type of boyfriend to always double check on your emotional and physical comfort, especially during things like make out sessions, cuddles, etc. Emotionally, he’s the same. If Killer notices the slightest difference in your mood, he’s quick to ask if you’re okay. “Do you need anything, honey? Did i do anything wrong?” And if you are upset over something, he’s the comforting master. Killer will play with every strand of your hair, your head residing in his lap while he sings comforting words of reassurance to you. He talks soo lightly when you’re upset, it’s the sweetest thing ever.

Who’s Who Fluff Alphabet : S

- How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected? : Who’s Who is very protective of you, as he’s rapid to being jealous. He always has an arm around your waist, masking you in his scent to prove you’re his. He knows that if any man smells his brand of cigarettes on you, they’ll be quick to leave you alone. It’s no secret that Who’s Who is a force to be reckoned with. That being said, he’s also protective in a more literal sense. If anyone is harassing you or attempting to apply physical force to you, he’s sure to turn them into a bloody mess. But if you try to protect him, he’s not going to be very happy. Who’s Who has this crippling need to prove himself (*cough* inferiority complex) and the last thing he wants is for somebody to defend him, especially when it comes to violent matters. He’s strong, he’s capable, why in the world do you think he needs your help? Although... he does like being emotionally vulnerable with you... I-i mean-! No! Not at all, 100% tough and independent, he is!

136 notes · View notes

goldensunset · 6 months

Text

people who go through the main tags of big and tumultuous fandoms looking for new fresh good posts to reblog are essential to any circle. they’re like true hunter gatherers leaving the safety of settlement and braving the unknown wilderness to find food for the flock. they risk their lives every day and will come back with a few scratches at best and severe psychological damage at worst

#peach rambles #hall of fame i guess #i love hearing everyone share their stories in the comments. me personally? this is about kingdom hearts #usually the main culprit is disdain and dusty old misogynistic takes for kairi (the main girl)#there's x reader occasionally #cursed content with random disney characters #or people who complain about how much the series has expanded #that don't understand that over half the story is contained in the so-called 'side games'#or just generally dusty takes that have been disproven already

11K notes · View notes

simonsslut · 9 months

Text

simon who offers you his lap to sit in when there’s not enough chairs at the bar the lot of you are at.

simon whose hand is placed on your lower back to ‘make sure you don’t fall back’.

simon who notices you aren’t focusing on soaps storytelling because you can feel his hand as he slides it closer to your ass.

simon who follows you when you quickly excuse yourself to the washroom.

simon who sits you on the sink and slowly slides his hand up your thigh, moving the fabric of your dress up.

simon who eats you out right there while you tug at his hair and squeeze his head between your thighs but he’s not one to complain, especially when he loves it.

simon who says he isn’t hungry when the squad orders food because he “had something better earlier”.

#nadiascrolls 🍒#simon who 😩#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost cod #simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #ghost simon riley #nadiaworks #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost call of duty #simon riley x you #cod mw2 #simon ghost x reader

12K notes · View notes

astreids · 18 days

Text

nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just memorized your coffee order because it was the most basic decent thing to do. not because it gave him an excuse to talk to you, even if it was for two minutes.

nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just always kept a spare hair tie with him because you once mentioned that you always forget to bring an extra with you during missions. not because he always remembered every little thing you had ever said.

nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just didn't particularly like gojo, especially when he was making you laugh. not because he wanted you to laugh like that with him.

nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just felt his heart drop to his stomach when you got injured on a mission because that's what he'll feel for any other colleague. not because he couldn't bear the idea of not seeing you ever again or hearing you call him 'kento, my angel.'

nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just asked to be paired with you because you spoke the least amount of nonsense and you proved to be a good company. not because he was slowly losing interest in talking to anyone else who wasn't you.

nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just read the books you recommended because they were already on his reading list. not because he wanted to talk to you all the time about everything and anything under the sun.

nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just brought you your favourite food whenever you seemed in a bad mood because he needed you to focus on the task. not because he didn't like seeing you upset and the thought of you being all sad and teary-eyed made his heart hurt.

nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just hated the idea of you loving someone else.

5K notes · View notes

tojisun · 1 month

Text

[head in my hands] i think that older bf! simon gets off at how dependent you are on him. that every waking hour, you seek him out. it makes him thrum with something sinister; his heart heady with something dark.

you don't even notice—that's the best thing.

it was just natural for you to come to him, curling to his side like being beside him alone gives you the courage you need or grants you the peace of your mind.

he pushes your hair away from your face and you turn to him with a shy little smile, cheeks round and lips twitching. you don't ask him but he gives it to you anyway—a kiss on your forehead, because you're his precious love.

so good for him. so needy.

simon adores it. he adores the way you can't live without him; how you've made it so you two would be inseparable. he is your rock, you are his lifeline. sure, you don't know just how deep his greed runs—murky waters, blood dripping from the corners of his lips—but it's not like you had to know, anyway.

all you had to do was to stay close, for him to spoil and cherish. for him to love.

"y'need me so much, don't you doll?" simon asks, crooned words pressed on your fever-hot skin. "can't think without me. can't live without me. such a darlin', y'are."

you keen, breathless, unable to speak past warbled gasps. you feel the slow stretch of his cock as you rise, the glide torturous, hitting every of your sensitive spots, before you sink back down again, stuffed whole, his cockhead breaching into depths you never knew was even possible.

too mu'—!

simon's hands move, jostling you from where you are on his lap. they hook on your waist, dimpling your skin as they sink into your fat. it makes him groan, seeing how full you are against him. how full you are of him. seeing your softness, your tenderness, immortalized in his hold like this—weeping, leaking, cunt gushing—makes him whimper, mind splintering at the overwhelming pleasure.

not enough. s'not enough.

(simon doesn't realize how needy he is of you too.)

#back to vague posting #just. i paid my tuition right? so im projecting rn. imagine a partner who pays those for u ???? me when #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #cw dark themes #afab reader #suns

6K notes · View notes

lxvvie · 3 months

Text

fuck nasty!Ghost who shows you how much he misses you.

You were out running errands, leaving Simon, home from his latest deployment, to his own devices. All was going well—so you thought—until you heard the telltale ping of your phone and saw that he had texted you.

Simon probably needed you to pick something up for him on the way home. Mm. Doable. You opened the text under that innocent assumption.

And you know what they say about making assumptions.

Because right there in front of your very eyes was a picture of underwear. Your underwear. Your favorite pair of underwear. Your favorite pair of underwear you'd been searching for while you were getting dressed this morning.

They were covered in cum. Simon's cum.

You receive another text not even a second later: Miss you, sweetheart.

It was a miracle you didn't drop your phone.

5K notes · View notes

oneprompt · 2 years

Note

Hello again. I hope you had a wonderful day today. I was wondering if I could get some angst/fluff of who's who s/o gets hurt in battle and how he takes care of them while they recover.

authors note : i hope you did , as well ..! my days been rather bland but ^^ gosh , everytime you request our boy , i weep happy tears <3 please enjoy !

Who’s Who x Gn! Reader : Nursing you back to health

“What’re you doing here? i didn’t take you for the caring type..” Your voice was weak, just barely above a whisper. It was more then rational to wonder what brought him here... You were just another soldier, holding little to no weight on Kaido’s mission to be the future pirate king.

Who’s Who put his cigarette out, only the filter remaining in the rolling paper. “Is it so unbelievable for me to care about my subordinates?” He smirked down at you, kneeling down so he was leveled with your bed.

“Well, if i’m being entirely honest... uh huh.” You spoke out sheepishly. “I-i appreciate it immensely...! I just- i figured if any of you were to be the comforting type it would be Drake or maybe Black Maria, on a good day..” You sat up, peeking at the pinkette. You were feared once you noticed his lips form into a near scowl, showing his obvious distaste for your comment. Even if it was true.

It was hard to not have a fragile ego, after the shame he endured in his past. Among Onigashima, Who’s Who had molded himself into the ideal man. Well, at least the ideal man in his eyes. Tough, sultry, mysterious... He was the whole package, was he not? Clearly not to you... You seemed all over those other morons. Was Who’s Who not enough to lure out your most adorable self?

“Thank you, Who’s Who-sama..!” Perhaps adding such a flattering honorific would help his smile make a grand return, replacing that ghastly frown... Much to your surprise, that was the perfect path to take... For an intimidating figure, Who’s Who sure was easy to butter up.

“Aw, you’re too sweet, dolly.” The Tobi Roppo chuckled, placing a gloved hand to your forehead. “How about you let me take care of you, now?” He cocked his head to the side, flashing you a toothy grin.

Something about your weakened state warmed his heart. He only ever saw you in action, impaling whatever sorry samurai stepped upon the land of Onigashima. But here you were, planted in your bed like a wilting blossom. The way you had to rely on him made you all the more cute, just like a helpless kitty.. Who’s Who liked you much more this way, hair brushed out, your pained body snug in pajamas, replacing the iconic beast pirate outfit you were often stuck in.

Your face warmed up from the sudden contact, as well as the way he sang such a pet name to you. The way Who’s Who was treating you made you more then flustered, mind wandering to all sorts of cutesy and romantic scenarios with the man... DId he like you? No, no... Of course not. Who were you, getting your hopes up? It was no secret that Who’s Who was a flirt. One could even call him a serial flirter... Surely, there was no meaning behind any of this. Not his actions, not his words.. None of it.

“You’re such a cutie, aren’tcha?” His leather gloves danced through your hair, Who’s Who’s touch delicate to an out of character extent. Even with such flustering words filling the room, you couldn’t help but relish in it all. You were a pirate. Pirates never relied on others, let alone such flimsy words of affection! Although... It did feel nice. Even if they were insincere, you could at least pretend that Who’s Who had some shred of care for you..

You let out a weak sigh, resting your head upon his lap. “I am...” You mumbled, eyes fluttering with exhaustion. Who were you to object to a handsome mans praises? Plus, nobody ever called you cute. Inside of Onigashima, you were just a brute who could be replaced with another pawn at any moment. And outside of the island, you were a monster who deserved nothing but the upmost worst suffering for helping a man as cruel as Kaido. But right here, you were nothing but a person, somebody Who’s Who fancied enough to play flirty tricks on. You were a dolly. Whatever that meant...

Who’s Who opened his mouth to retort with another teasing remark but he stopped, lips fastening against his cigarette once again. The expression you had on your face was endearing. Dainty lips framing your features with the slightest smile, eyelashes dripping with drowsiness. You really did your best out there, didn’t you? I mean, with such a wound laid out on your body, it was more then apparent that you strained yourself. And for what? To help out your other beast pirates? No one with you was even high ranking, why on earth would you get yourself into a kerfuffle?

“You’re sweet,” Who’s Who curled a strand of your hair around his finger with a sigh, the scent of cigarettes filling the room as he blew out a drag. Who’s Who meant every bit of that, even if his expression remained the same as it always did: unauthentic. He looked down at you, giving you a once in a life time smile. For once, Who’s Who’s face was filled to the brim with fondness. “Now, get some rest. I’ll stay, if you’d like.” He put out his cigarette, letting the ash die down as it as smothered by the table top.

You cuddled further into his lap, closing your eyes entirely. How blissful this was, even if it contrasted the life you had known. Perhaps a change of pace was nice, especially with somebody you cared about...

“Please stay, you’re...” You let out a sleepy sigh, burying your face into his thighs. “...You’re very pleasant.”

Pleasant?

That rivalled the traits that Who’s Who believed himself to be. Even when he was apart of the government, he always viewed himself so bitterly. Who’s Who was sadistic, apathetic... Truly the furthest from the word pleasant.

But if somebody as lovely as you could see that side of him, perhaps Who’s Who could embrace his more ‘weak’ sides as well...

77 notes · View notes

the-massive-simp · 10 months

Note

gignatic bf using tiny gf as a fleshlight? streching her inside wide open.

omg this idea is so good, thank you anon for sharing this! I hope you like this♡

warnings: nsfw. no pronouns or anatomy mentioned for reader.

♡requests open♡

He lowers you on his fat cock, his muscular arms holding your waist because he knows you won't have the strength to bounce on his dick on your own. He's so thick that you feel split in two, stretched to your limit, but it feels too good to tell him to stop. He slowly increases the pace, moving you faster on his dick, using you as his special fleshlight. You moan shamelessly, too lost in the moment to think about anything that isn't him or his dick or the immense amount of pleasure he's giving you. He moves one of his hands on your abdomen, rubbing it slightly.

"Look at it love, I'm so deep inside of you. Can you feel me filling you up completely?"

He presses the hand on the bulge that his enormous dick is creating in you. It feels so good that the knot that was growing in your belly snaps and you come undone on his cock.

"Aw my pretty baby is already cumming? You're so good for me darling, so good"

He then lifts you off his cock almost completely and then he slams you back down. You feel him twitching, and you know he's getting closer to his orgasm. He repeats the movements again and again, making you cry out his name from the oversimulation. He shushes you and he keeps fucking you, murmuring sweet praises in your ear. You feel him twitch before he shoots thick ropes of cum in you. He keeps you still on his cock while he empties his balls in you, kissing your neck and pinching your nipples.

"My sweet baby you did so good... but we're not done yet"

He flips you over, his big, strong body engulfing your smaller one. He leans down to kiss you passionately before bringing your legs over his shoulders. He starts to pound in your hole, the strength of his thrusts making you cling to his back, slightly scratching him with your nails. You know it's gonna be a long night.

14K notes · View notes

nenayaquisieras · 3 months

Text

Simon has always been confused on why you gift him toys. Sure, most of the gifts you gave him were some of the things he liked. Bourbon, masks, gloves, make up for him to smudge his eyes with, some daggers and knives. Things that we're useful for him, just him. But later, you gifted him a toy airplane. He makes a comment about it, saying he is not a child anymore and you were better off giving it to Johnny instead.

"No, this is specifically for you, take it."

When he gets to him room, he walks toward his trash can, opening it with the tip of his boot. He gives one more look at the toy, his mood souring before throwing it into the trash. He goes on about his day, training, signing paper work, drills. Doing anything to ignore the pain stinging memories that the toy brought back. Emotions that were buried thousands of feet deep it could reach hell itself. Later, he lies awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, avoiding looking at the cylinder shape that's calling for him in his peripheral.

Fuck.

He pulls the covers off vigorously and stomps over to the trash can. He is standing over it like he's trying to intimidate it, as if it was an enemy he's trying to get rid of in battle. To anyone else, the scene would look comical.

He sighs to himself and reaches down to take out the toy he so cruelly threw away. He sets it on his desk and quickly walks toward his bed, facing away from his desk.

The next day, he wakes up feeling different. He swears he sees his room more vibrant, more lively. That energy follows him through out the day, having his other teammates notice his rather bright mood.

You catch him in the hallway. Pulling him aside to ask him about the paper work you left at his desk this morning. Of course, he notices the way you smile brightly, more so than usual. But he notices that you're not looking at him. More like looking at something next to him.

"What's got you so cheery?"

You turn to look up at him, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"I just..." You take a quick glance at the spot next to him, before bringing your eyes back upon his.

"I just hope you liked your gift." The same bright smile appearing on your face.

He stares at you, examining your words. Your expression.

You think you see his eyes crinkle a bit.

"Yea,"

"I liked it."

#call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #simon riley x reader #medium!reader #Joseph really liked his toy airplane #Honestly this was her way of giving his nephew toys without her bring up that she sees dead people #she can't be like “Ghost let me gift Joseph something”#he would be like “How the fawk you know who that is??”#sorry for errors its so late #but yea ill have more soon #I just cant figure out how to traumatize Gaz and Soap #Only Ghost and Price #love to see the old men suffer #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader

6K notes · View notes

tacticalprincess · 2 months

Text

könig putting his entire body weight on you to ground himself when he’s overstimulated. he’s like your own boyfriend shaped weighted blanket, only it soothes his nerves more than yours. wether he’s coming home from snapping spines in half or just socializing a little too much for his taste, he’s laying on top of you, using your tits— or tummy, he isn’t picky— as a pillow and squishing you fully into the bed, absorbing your body heat like a gecko. :( he’ll whimper if you stroke his hair, loving the feeling of your kitten nails scratching against his scalp. he might even have you pat his back and shush him if he’s feeling extra anxious. humming subconsciously from deep in his chest as a self soothing mechanism and response to the comfort you give him. maternal instincts go crazy…. he might be a 6’10 killing machine but he’s still your baby :(

#i want to nurse him and let him call me mommy #woahhh who said that #konig x reader #konig call of duty #konig cod #konig x y/n #könig x you #könig x reader #könig smut #könig cod #bella writes⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚#könig headcanons

5K notes · View notes

teddybeartoji · 3 months

Text

gojo feels like he's gonna DIE if he doesn't get to kiss you after you've just swallowed his cum. he's instantly tugging you up or he's dropping down to his knees beside you (whichever is the fastest yk) and he's just on you. lips locked, heavy breathing; his hands are just fucking all over you. he's sucking on your tongue, moaning into your mouth at his own taste. he's such a freak<333333333333

and i think he gets even more turned on if you make fun of him for it a bit. call him disgusting or call him a perv and he's popping another boner<333333333333

#🥰🥰🥰🥰#guysssss🥰🥰🥰🥰the voices are soo loudd🥰🥰#need to swap saliva with him wait what who the fuck just said that #snowballing with gojo🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴#everybody close your eyes i'm going through it rn #leave me be #angel boy #mickey is daydreaming #thinking thoughts #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo satoru smut #jjk smut #gojo x male reader #gojo x gn!reader

4K notes · View notes

moralesispunk · 4 months

Text

Simon Riley versus the teddy you sleep with

It's an old, ratty thing, something you've had for years and has always found its way into the crook of your elbow as you slept

when you first started dating Simon, you hid it away from him on the nights he stayed at yours until one day he walked into your room and saw it on the pillows

"what the fuck is that?"

"not what, who" you glared at him and he raised an eyebrow back

after then, this teddy became his enemy. sometimes he places it high up on your wardrobe when he made the bed, other times he flung it from the bed while you slept only for you to wake up like the soft thud was a blaring alarm as you half crawled from bed to find it

and when he wakes up and finds you not curled against him, his eyes opening and he turns in search of you only to find you on the other side of the bed and holding your teddy against your chest... he glares at the teddy like it's smiling back at him

#idk why i find this so hilarious as someone who sleeps with a teddy at aged 25 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x y/n

8K notes · View notes

gutsby · 3 months

Text

Homemade

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.

Warnings: 18+. Sneaky sex tape fun with dbf!Joel ;-) Unprotected p-in-v. Age gap. Daddy kink. Facefucking. Joel being the world’s worst cameraman. Shower sex. Overstimulation via adjustable shower head. Dirty talk. Screaming ‘daddy’ too loud, and your father shows up.

Translations: In Chile, pico is slang for penis. Joel’s is big.

Part of the Waiting Game series

“If this ever ends up on PornHub, I’ll kill you, Miller.”

Joel knew you meant it, too.

The only reason you’d agreed to make this dumb little ‘home video’ at all was because you were headed back to college tomorrow and wouldn’t see him again until May. Doing long distance was tough, but doing long distance while simultaneously trying to keep a risqué, torrid, and totally-not-age-appropriate love affair with your father’s best friend under wraps was infinitely more difficult. This was the safest way to keep desire alive in the meantime.

Immortalized on a Sony CCD-TR70—because neither one of you trusted iCloud to keep a sex tape secret.

It had also been the only video camera you could find in the closet before your dad had plopped down on the couch just outside your room and announced he would be watching Oppenheimer for the third time. You’d had to scurry off fast before he could invite you to join him.

“I’ll be damned—this thing’s gotta be as old as I am,” Joel mused as he stood at the foot of the bed, camcorder pointed at your semi-nude form.

“I didn’t know they had cameras back in the Stone Age.”

Your smirk didn't flinch, even when Joel flipped you off.

You were lying on your side, head propped up on one hand while the other picked at a few loose strings from the comforter. The lacy, pastel pink bustier holding your tits in place was currently making breathing feel like a chore, and your skin was on fire from the warmth of the room, but you tried not to show it. Joel twisted a dial.

“Alright, now...flash ‘em for daddy,” he grinned as soon as the lens focused in where he wanted: your cleavage.

You rolled your eyes.

“A little closer, please,” you said, patting the space in front of you.

Joel didn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still cradling the camera, he clambered over the bed so fast he nearly tripped and took a nosedive in the headboard. You had to cover your mouth to contain a shriek of laughter—and terror—as his frame barreled into yours.

“JOEL!”

Fortunately, your cameraman was quick to recollect himself, planting a knee on either side of your chest once he’d knocked you onto your back. Then, from above, he angled the grey-black hunk of metal just a foot away:

“Anything you’d like to say to the folks watching at home, ma’am?” Joel inquired, suddenly assuming all the poise and matter-of-fact elocution of a news reporter.

You stuck your tongue out at the camera and blew the wettest, fattest raspberry you could muster in response.

Joel hummed, zoomed in on your lips, and nodded.

“Fascinating,” he said, pretending to make sense of the fart noise you’d just made with your mouth, “Have you ever given thought to maybe...sucking cock on camera?”

The swiftness with which he was able to dodge your kick was remarkable. He swayed the camera just out of reach before you could shove it away and say, ‘Joel, quit being GROSS’ and he promptly replied, ‘Ain’t that the whole point of a sex tape, sweet pea? Bein’ a little bit gross?’ And you playfully tried to kick him again, only this time, he caught your foot and yanked you closer to him. He turned the camcorder back to your face and grinned.

“That’s my little pornstar,” he murmured with affection. Then, zooming in again, this time to find your panty line, “Riiiiight there.”

You knew giving Joel Miller recording privileges for an occasion as momentous as this was a bad idea. At the rate you were going now, you’d be seeing the sunrise through the window before you ever got a glimpse of his dick. You needed to take matters into your own hands.

Literally.

You crawled on all fours to get to Joel across the bed.

The man, kneeling with the camera pointed in your direction, looked up to cock a brow at you.

“Sweetheart, hey, can ya do that one more—”

“Hush,” you muttered, closing in on his crotch.

Your head was lowered so you could undo the front of his jeans. Because of this, your back was arched, and your ass was pointed up just the slightest bit. For a second, Joel seemed torn between tilting the lens to your lower half or your face, which was inching ever closer to the bulge in his trousers. In time, he landed on the latter.

He swallowed. That sight never got old—and seeing it displayed on the camcorder’s semi-grainy screen only made it that much hotter. Joel shifted on his knees while you worked him out of his boxers, watching the nimble movements of your fingers as you wrestled the fabric.

“Wanna—” Glancing to the side of the bed, “—maybe—”

“Yup.”

Both of you liked it better on the floor: you on your knees in front of Joel, chin tilted up to see his reactions as you sucked him off. You loved to sink between his legs and then see and feel nothing but him, brain going blank the moment his cock filled your mouth. Joel slid a pillow under your knees before widening his stance some.

“Is it on?” Your hand was wrapped firmly around the base of his cock and your lips were hovering an inch from the tip. You resisted the urge to lick the precum off just yet.

“Darlin’, it’s been on ever since you stepped outta the bathroom in that— that—” Joel seemed to be searching for a word when the head of his cock was enveloped in a kiss. You dragged your tongue across the slit of him and collected the hot, salty beads with a muffled moan.

Then you pulled off.

“Teddy,” you said, reminding him of the name for that pretty little tulle and lace getup you currently had on.

“Teddy,” Joel echoed, his mind a million miles away from any lingerie jargon at the moment. He held the camera tighter as you took him back into your mouth and sank deeper on his cock. He struggled to keep it steady.

It was strange, watching Joel and the rounded glass of the lens as you did this dirty thing that was only meant to be shared between you and him. Knowing it would be recorded, saved for future viewing, displayed on some dimly lit screen in Joel’s bedroom maybe one, twice, or more likely than not, several dozen times over the next three months. You wondered how you might look from this new point of view; though, you weren’t so sure you needed to know what sight Joel was made privy to while you sucked and hollowed your cheeks around his cock.

As it turned out, that uncertainty wasn’t meant to last you very long, because Joel flipped the camera’s screen around two seconds later. Some sepia-tinted, pixelated rendition of your face, framed by the date and time and a bright red flashing dot beside the word ‘REC’ were the first to greet you. You flinched back just a little.

“Joel,” you said, almost bashful, “Flip it back.”

Joel just grinned. Then he laced his fingers through your hair and tugged you closer to him, thumb stroking over your scalp, “C’mon, darlin’, don’t ya wanna see how goddamn pretty ya look on your knees for me?”

You didn’t think you looked pretty at all. In fact, you reckoned your features looked something more like an alien utility funnel than a real, human face as you tilted your chin inward and seemed to be nothing but eyes and a hollowed-out expression, but you let Joel guide you back onto him all the same. You heard a low rumble of pleasure take shape in his chest as your lips slid over his shaft. Your gaze remained glued to the screen as you did.

Wet with saliva and a few faint traces of precum, you continued to bob your head up and down. Joel’s groans grew louder, and your drive to take him further and further surged as well. By the time his hand was tightening into a white-knuckled fist in your hair, you’d nearly taken him all the way to the back of your throat, and your nose was no more than an inch from the soft tufts of hair on his belly. Joel let out a shuttering breath.

“Fuck me,” he heaved. You might’ve smiled if your lips weren’t otherwise occupied. Then he clenched his hand even harder and murmured, “Can you— can I, please—”

Again, you didn’t need him to finish the rest of the question to know what he wanted. You moved your head back just slightly to nod, a low, ‘Mhmm’ reverberating down the length of his dick as you gave him permission. Joel swallowed and set the camera aside immediately.

He placed it on the nightstand, perfectly level with your head, to the side. Then he rotated the device just a bit, took one glance at the screen, and shortly returned to where you were watching him with wide, glossy eyes.

“Ready?” he asked. His right hand now joined the left at the back of your head, but not before thumbing a quick touch over your cheek to get a feel for your approval.

You hummed once more. You watched Joel’s hips move forward, hands secure around your scalp all the while, and you felt a gentle nudge at the back of your throat. Then another. You couldn’t help the impulse to gag, but thankfully, it was short-lived. Joel peered down at you, eyes searching yours for any plea to stop or slow down, but he found nothing. He sheathed himself deeper until your lips were brushing the base of his dick. He groaned.

“That’s a good…fuckin’ girl,” he managed, voice strained, “Takin’ my cock so deep.”

He shifted his hips to move an inch or two out, then slid his cock forward again, bumping that spot at the top of your throat. This time, you were better adjusted to take him and felt your muscles expand and contract around him without activating your gag reflex. Your eyes stayed trained on his face while he dragged his cock back again.

“My pretty girl and her—” Joel stabbed back into you, somehow tender in the way he did it, “—pretty fuckin’ mouth…Sweet thing likes gettin’ facefucked, does she?”

With the increased pace of his thrusts and the grip he had on the sides of your head, you couldn’t quite answer, but Joel could tell from the glint in your eye that you loved when he manhandled and fucked your throat like this. Watched the light sear gently behind those irises as you swallowed every inch of his cock, back and forth, and let your brain break down to little more than a happy, mindless mush. Joel was always keen to oblige you on that front—aroused to no end at the sight of all your thoughts being fucked straight out of your head—and within the next few thrusts, his gut was giving a familiar clench. He pulled halfway out of your mouth, paused, felt the pinch again, then withdrew from your lips fully.

“Get on the bed.”

You straightened back up and made it over to the mattress, quickly. Before you could assume the position you’d been hoping to take on all fours, you felt yourself flipped on your back. Joel yanked your hips to the edge of the bed and kneeled down between your legs. Hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and had them shuffled down your thighs and past your ankles in no time at all. Then, when he lowered his lips to your wet, aching core, you pressed a touch to the crown of his head.

“Joel, wait,” you said. All of a sudden your chest felt tight.

In spite of the fact that your airways were open and completely free from any obstruction—namely, Joel’s big ol’ pico—you still found it difficult to inhale. Some murky, amorphous sense of anxiety weighed over your chest.

When your hand didn’t move from his head and instead pushed him further, Joel furrowed his brows, perplexed.

“What’s’a matter, darlin’?”

You shook your head, more to yourself than to him.

“I haven’t…just— haven’t washed down there today…o-or shaved,” you stammered, “Don’t want you to taste it.”

That was largely a lie. You’d bathed, shaved, and prepared for this just fine, but really were more concerned about the novel optics that loomed overhead. Being filmed in such a singularly vulnerable state without knowing how to act. You were fine when the attention was focused on Joel and his pleasure, but something about having your every whimper and moan laid bare before you on film felt daunting. Unnerving, in a way.

Joel frowned while rubbing your thigh. His brow pinched inward again, as if he were considering something.

Then he moved across your body, and your muscles eased with relief at the thought that he’d just let it go and get to fucking you exactly how you wanted. You reached for him, ready to wrap your legs around his waist, when a yelp clawed out of your throat. You found that you didn’t get to touch his chest, or his cheeks, or his big, broad, beefy shoulders, as you were promptly thrown over the latter of the three body parts and lifted when Joel stood up from the bed. He started carrying you across the room, heedless of the startled, ‘What the FUCK, Miller?’ you’d cried the second he took one step.

Hardwood floors transformed to tile before your eyes, and shortly, you realized you were being brought into your bathroom.

You heard the squeak of some metal knob being turned, then a brief sputter, then a spray of water raining down on your shower floor. You were still being held hostage over Joel’s shoulder, try as you might to bite at his lower back or smack his ass in an attempt to break loose.

He set you down a second later, seemingly unfazed.

“Get in.” He nodded toward the shower.

Before you had a chance to respond, he left. You stood back in disbelief—refusing to go into the shower and let Joel have his win—but just as you opened your mouth to call out and tell him as much, his form slipped back in through the door. Naked, now, and wielding that stupid, goddamned camcorder with a devious glint in his eye.

“Will you—” You held out a defensive hand in front of you, cheeks already heating, “—stop with that?!”

Secretly, the corners of your lips were fighting a smile as Joel drew closer with the camera held up to your face.

“There she is, folks,” he announced, as though speaking to a crowd, or else reading off of a script from the world’s most cheesy porno, “My dirty, dirty girl says she needs a shower—don’t ya, sweet pea?”

It sounded so ridiculous and dumb that neither one of you could keep from laughing. Even as you lifted your middle finger in response, Joel grinned and smacked your ass. Steadied the camera out in front, nudged you closer to the shower, and watched you somewhat begrudgingly obey his orders. Once you’d stripped what little remained on your body, you stepped into the tub.

Add to ‘ridiculous and dumb’ just wildly unsexy as well—who the hell needed a soapy interlude to a sex tape?

Joel Miller, apparently. He constricted his grip on the camera and followed you in, tongue already skimming the backs of his teeth in anticipation. You turned away to step under the shower’s stream, and he wasted no time getting a shot of your derrière. You leaned forward and sighed.

The water worked wonders to get your muscles to loosen some, but still, you were nervous. You could clean up now, stall a little longer, maybe even offer to give Joel head again—but what if he really wanted to eat you out on camera? You couldn’t put off the conversation forever.

Or another minute, it seemed.

You let out a shriek when you felt Joel’s fingers sneak up between your thighs. You hardly knew what he was doing, just folding limply when he spun you around to press your back against the shower wall. Your eyes widened to see him descending your body once more.

“I lied,” Joel said, smirk painted clear across his features, “You’re not dirty—I just wanted to eat your pussy in the shower ‘s’all.”

Chivalry was evidently alive and well in Austin, Texas.

No truer words could have been spoken, and yet, you felt wildly uncomfortable the second Joel’s head dipped between your legs and that big, dumb, handsome face started licking stripes up your sensitive core. You cast a glance to the side and saw the camcorder perched on the sink—just through the open slit in the shower curtain, you could see it pointed directly at you.

You shivered and started to push Joel away.

“Can we maybe just—”

“Sweetie?!”

Joel’s lips tore out of your cunt quicker than a sneeze through a screen door. His eyes were wide.

“Y-Yeah, dad?” you squeaked, tone almost fearful.

“Everything okay in here? I heard ya scream,” your dad returned shortly.

You could only imagine the expression of confusion and distress painting his every lineament in that moment. Probably just barely sticking his head through the crack in the door and blinking anxiously through the steam.

Your dad was caring like that.

He just never knew the right times to show up.

No, there were very few times where you would’ve liked to see him less—apart from that one time you’d sucked Joel’s dick under the table at your dad’s birthday dinner. Your heart was thudding a wild, erratic beat in your chest, and you could only imagine how Joel was feeling. Probably seeing visions of a Size 11 boot being shoved up his ass if his friend happened to slide the shower curtain to the side and see him nose-deep in his daughter’s box.

That would be bad. So very, very bad and probably ten times worse than when Tommy had caught you blowing his brother at the aforementioned birthday party. You just couldn’t seem to catch a break these days.

You sucked in a breath and answered anyway.

“I thought I saw a spider.”

“Really?” You could already sense the embittered tinge to your dad’s voice, harking back to the war he’d once declared on all wolf spiders in the home, “Want me to kill it?”

The next thing you heard was two boots thud on the bathroom floor outside the shower, and you could’ve sworn you saw Joel’s whole soul leap from his body. He shot a frantic look around him, spotted a window above, and seemed to wonder for half a second if he might be able to shimmy his 188-pound frame through a space that probably wasn’t big enough to fit a fat raccoon. He slumped his weight against the shower wall and winced.

“No! I— It wasn’t even a spider. Just a…roach.”

Shortly, Joel’s eyes widened even more and met yours, as if to ask, ‘Why the FUCK would you say that?’

“A roach?!” your dad cried simultaneously.

Apparently, you’d forgotten that any derivative of the word ‘cockroach’ was like a sleeper agent activation phrase for middle-aged fathers who wanted to keep their homes free of all household pests. The look on Joel’s haggard, world-weary face communicated as much to you, and for a second, you remembered that he, too, was built the same way as any other semi-old dude you knew.

Just bigger and beefier and…harder below the belt than you would’ve expected most men around his age to be.

You quickly chided yourself for ogling Joel’s dick at a time like this and replied to your father, shrill, “No!”

Then, slightly more composed, “No, no— I already took it out with some hairspray and told it to fuck off to hell.”

An attempt at humor was the last leg you had to stand on. Fortunately, it worked.

Outside the shower, your dad chuckled, and his footsteps started to shuffle off toward the door.

“Ah. Atta girl,” he beamed, ever the advocate for brutal cockroach killings, “If you see another, just holler, okay?”

“Okay.”

You heard the sound of the bathroom door closing, and you almost fell to the floor. Joel probably would’ve been facedown just as well—fear seeping out of his body along with every last ounce of willpower to stand—had he not made a dive for you as soon as your dad had left.

The force of his push sent you straight into the wall, legs forced to wrap around his waist as he buried his face in your neck.

“Thank fuck,” he breathed.

“You’re welcome,” you murmured, swiping the water out of your eyes with a grimace.

Then, just as you were about to request that Joel lower you back down to the floor and out of the shower’s spray, you felt a nudge between your legs. Luckily not a tongue this time—just Joel, or the tip of his leaking cock. The man below you grinned, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a wash of relief. Could it be?

“I’ll still eat you out if y’want,” he started, though speaking with a little less conviction this time around, “But after all that I, uh—kinda jus’ wanna fuck ya stupid.”

Well thank fuck for fake spiders and cockroaches, too; you’d just averted a dreaded tonguefuck, thanks to that detour.

You’d worry about your pornstar moans and on-camera charisma another time—now you could just sit back and let Joel do all the work while he took you against the wall.

Really, there was no need to concern yourself with anything at all from that point forward. Once you’d given Joel the green light, he was sinking you onto his cock with a grunt and making sure you felt nothing but him. His hands found your hips and held you firmly in place as he rutted into you from below, your own fingers latching onto his shoulders for some much-needed support. Both of you knew that you needed to be extra quiet now—seeing how sound seemed to carry in that tight, tiled space—so Joel snagged your lips in his for a kiss.

He was practically panting in your mouth by the time you started meeting his thrusts. His fingertips slid some and must’ve seared ten perfect crescents into the flesh of your ass as he fucked you into the wall.

“Look so pretty like this,” he whispered in between kisses and short, shallow breaths. His cock parted your insides with an excruciating welt of pleasure, and he hardly even seemed to realize it, “Look so damn pretty takin’ cock.”

Then, lips kicking up in a smile when it seemed he’d remembered something, he added, “Can’t wait to play this tape back home and watch us fuck all over again.”

Again. Again. And again. Shit, you could just see it now.

Your eyes traversed the compact shower space once more to find the video camera—still perched, still live, still perfectly implacable and silent atop the sink as it recorded your every grunt, groan, and shuddering moan. You were nearly as curious to know what Joel’s bare ass looked like rutting into you like this as you were to hear yourself getting railed against the shower wall. Maybe you’d beat this fear of secondhand embarrassment after all.

Maybe.

Joel’s teeth snagged your bottom lip and bit it, lightly.

“Every chance I get, you can bet I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout this…sweet pussy while you’re away,” he said, voice low and occasionally punctured by a groan, “Say one more thing f’me and I’ll…cum every time I watch this part.”

The kinks at the corners of his lips were endearing. You would’ve liked to supply them with just about anything they could’ve wanted, so when they leaned into your ear and murmured just what it was they needed to hear, you only hesitated a second.

Or maybe two or three, because, well…it was risky.

Moaning ‘daddy’ out loud at a time like this? It might get Joel off quick, but it might send your real dad running even faster. You weren’t crazy about the thought of anything that might draw the man’s attention again.

Joel seemed a little less risk-averse than you, notwithstanding the window-leaping fear he’d felt when your dad had rushed in before. Leave it to a criminally horny man to have the memory of a goldfish, though.

At present, Joel was blinking and gawking a bit like one, too, waiting for you to enunciate that one magic word.

You couldn’t deny he made a damn cute desperate sex fiend when he wanted to be. And you needed to cum.

You figured you could cut a deal with him just this once.

“Alright,” you mumbled against the top of his stubbled lip, “Make me cum and I’ll say anything you want, Miller.”

You weren’t sure if it was a chuckle or a strangled moan that jumped up in his throat when Joel squeezed your sides tighter. All you knew was that he was lowering you to the floor in the next instant, spinning you around, and walking you forward, swiftly and with purpose, toward the opposite end of the shower. Right where the crack in the curtain made you most visible to the camcorder.

Joel’s hand snaked around your front and gently eased between your legs. Then, pressing his chest to your back and nudging you to bend just slightly at the waist, he tipped your bodies closer to the camera’s line of vision and stilled. From the LED screen, you could see the ghost of a smile crossing his lips as he shifted his head beside your own. Next, they were kissing across your shoulder, your neck, that sensitive spot behind your ear, and finally the shell of it, brown eyes trained on the camera lens as he murmured to you, “Stay real still.”

You didn’t know if you could. But you tried. And you damn near cried when his fingers started working circles over your clit. Your body was raised on tip-toes, and your hand was bracing the wall as Joel fucked you from behind and made a mess of your wet, writhing body. In no more than three or four strokes, your fears of looking or sounding stupid on camera trickled away with all the rest of the silent, sizzling liquids circling the drain below. Your cheek pressed against Joel’s rougher one, and with the push of each new thrust, you came more unraveled.

When Joel’s hand closed over the front of your throat, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t move—couldn’t move, as the man was holding you still in such a taut, rigid grip.

“What do we say when we get fucked this nice, baby?” Joel whispered in your ear, words almost entirely masked by the sounds from the shower. You still heard it, though.

“T-Thank you,” you stuttered, cockdrunk and faint.

“Thank you, what?”

Your eyes were fluttering closed, but you could feel the smug expression just over your shoulder. You clenched around him and felt him snap his hips ahead even harder.

“Thank you, daddy,” you whimpered.

“Say it again.”

“Thank you, daddy!” you whined, still scared to be too loud.

Joel wasn’t scared. His hand ascended the column of your neck to pinch your chin between his fingers, jerking your head to the right.

To the crack in the curtain. To the camera.

You could’ve cried with how fast he was fucking you now. You opened your eyes and cast a pathetic look to the recorder. Joel made sure you maintained that gaze, too.

“Who’s makin’ ya feel this good?” he seethed, shaking your whole frame with the breakneck pace of his hips.

“You, daddy.”

“Who’s fuckin’ this sweet cunt like no one ever has?”

“You, daddy.”

Joel seemed sated and somehow not fully satisfied at all. Like he was pleased to see you falling apart for him like this, but needed to hear more. Feel more.

He withdrew from you, and you nearly collapsed with the absence of his arms holding you straight.

You pressed a shaky palm to the wall and almost moaned for him to get his ass back over here, you weren’t done, when Joel returned in a second. To your relief, his muscly arms found their way around your front once more, and his clock plunged back inside you, too—only this time, you sensed you were missing something else.

Water.

It wasn’t on your back anymore.

It was fanning between your legs.

Blasting the full force of its stream toward your most sensitive parts as Joel held the shower head up between your thighs. You would’ve jumped back and screamed were it not for his hand clamping tight over your mouth before you could, his lips grazing over your ear again.

“Try it one more time.”

You released a hoarse, muffled squeal into his palm when he lifted the stainless steel to your clit and started rolling his hips. The strokes themselves were relatively gentle, but paired with the ruthless spate of the water, your eyes were nearly rolling to the back of your head at the pulse.

You couldn’t breathe, much less speak. Joel hummed almost apologetically into your hair but didn’t seem sorry at all as he lowered his hand back down to your throat and squeezed. He continued rocking his hips into yours.

“You’ve said it dozens of times before—what’s’a matter?”

Joel Miller knew what the fuck was the matter. He just liked to see you desperate, fucked-out, and teetering on the brink of going feral before he let you reach your peak.

“D-D-D—”

Damn, you sounded stupid.

“D-D-Do you wanna cum? Is that it?” Joel said, mocking your struggle to articulate words as he fucked you.

In spite of your normal no-bullshit attitude toward him, you weren’t in quite the right frame of mind to be talking back to him. You just nodded and moaned, movements constricted by the grip of his fingers on your neck.

“Use those big girl words for me, honey. I know ya can.”

Again, you parted your lips and started to speak, but the oscillation of the water, the brush of his cock, the patently deprecating lilt in Joel’s string of praises, made it nearly impossible. You ended up sputtering again,

“D-D-ah-fuuuckfuckfuck.”

“That ain’t the word I’m looking for.”

But, just as you ventured to say it once more, he cut in,

“Here. Lemme help ya find it.”

Before you could blink, Joel was pistoning his hips against your ass like he had before, only this time, he held the shower head stationary between your legs as you seized and nearly fell to the floor with the force of all the pleasure coursing through you. Your body seemed to act of its own accord, head dropping to Joel’s shoulder and stomach giving an alarmingly fitful pinch as an orgasm tore through you. You couldn’t control how it came or where it went—or how your tongue jumped up and cried,

“Daddy!”

Joel nodded, fucking you through each violent spasm with all the composure and aplomb of a seasoned pro. While your eyes cycled back in the throes of delirium, he held firm and didn’t slow his hips—or the shower head.

You probably could’ve torn a hole through a cinder block if you’d happened to have one between your teeth just then. That was how fervid and merciless the aftershocks of your climax were pulsing through you, exacerbated to the nth degree by the continuity of Joel’s movements. You managed to grab the forearm that was holding the metal nozzle and plead a wild, slightly stifled, “JOEL!”

In truth, you didn’t really want him to stop. It felt too good. You could tell that Joel sensed this, too, because in the instant after that, his lips were sponging kisses to your shoulder, cock working steadily between your walls.

“One more, sweet pea.”

“Joel—”

“And say it louder this time.”

Were you in your right mind, you probably would’ve chided him for being so reckless and stupid about it all. How the fuck could he expect you to scream out loud when your dad was lounging right outside of your room? Did he really think the drone of Cillian Murphy’s smooth, American-ized tone would mask your unbridled moans? Honestly, you couldn’t be sure—and more importantly, you couldn’t be stopped to consider for much longer. With one last trembling vibration from the shower head and a thrust from Joel, you were cumming all over again.

Squeezing his arm, sinking into his sturdy frame, clenching over his cock in what felt like a hundred convulsions, and casting caution aside, you screamed:

“DADDY!”

You might’ve blacked out for a second or two.

Even a minute, as it was, because the next intelligible thing that reached your ears was the thunder of footfalls. And the thrum of Joel’s own hammering heart as he yanked you into his chest and stilled frozen inside you.

The door swung open on its hinges so hard it hit the wall.

“What is it, sweetie?!” your dad yelped.

“I—”

“Are you hurt?”

Just fucked raw by your best friend and shaking, Pops.

You sucked in a breath when Joel nudged your head with his nose and slowly pulled the shower curtain closed to move you out of view of the camera. But it was still there.

Your dad was still there.

The shower walls seemed to be closing in on you, but somehow, you managed, “No, dad, I’m fine! Just…coulda sworn I saw another spider in here, but it was nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

Your dad sounded unconvinced, pacing closer. You could’ve screamed, but Joel was likely holding you too tight to make any such sounds possible in that moment. The two of you recoiled, still stuck chest-to-back, away from the edge of the plastic shower liner when a boot thudded just outside the crack between curtain and wall.

You swallowed. Joel squeezed. Neither of you breathed.

“If it’s another roach, I gotta call the extermin—”

“No! No, it wasn’t a roach. I’m just seein’ things, I think.”

That didn’t seem to make your father feel any better, because he didn’t retreat like he had before. A tense moment fell over the compact, fog-infested room, like the man was chewing away at some thought in his head.

Then he sighed.

“Alright.”

Blissful footsteps away from the shower. You smiled.

Unfortunately, the grin was destined to be short-lived, because in the next instant, you heard boots screech to a halt on the tile. Pivoted, then paused where they stood.

Another gut-wrenching dozen seconds passed, and for one short, chilling moment, you could’ve sworn you felt your father’s gaze sear through the curtain and see you.

But he didn’t see you. Or Joel. Or anyone.

Instead, his gaze was fixed someplace else.

Suddenly, his voice rose above all the awful noises of clamor and panic in your brain, and broke out, loudly,

“What’s my camera doin’ in here?”

#TO THE CREATIVE MINDS WHO BROUGHT THIS MAN’S BUSH TO TELEVISION…..I OWE Y’ALL MY LIFE #it took COURAGE and TENACITY to decide that showing the happy trail was essential to the narrative #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller

4K notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs