Dating Jasper Hale Would Include

05. hyunjin /  5813 words

stoner!hyunjin, softdom!hyunjin, female reader, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, size kink, reader is quite obedient here, fluff

tw: mentions of drugs

a/n: i wrote the first part of this drabble on my sfw account but decided to expand it and wrote the smut part for it. i doubt you’ll see something similar, but if you do, that’s most likely me. / please do envision this hyunjin to look exactly like ta!hyunjin.

the smoke stopped bothering you as much as it used to.

starting from burned up cigarettes to block-shaped vapes to dried up marijuana—you were no expert when it came to drugs but the ones you can name from the top of your head, you have likely seen hyunjin smoke it, whether it was under the bleachers during the weekend football matches or at a secret corner of the school’s backyard where teachers rarely head to check for students.

well, he did stop smoking at the backyard ever since you told him not to because that was where the school bunnies were taken care of. that was the only one of many advice he has taken from you ever since you found out he was half-way down his path to becoming a chronic smoker.

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The Only Exception (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!!! Ahhh here is the Din Djarin x reader fic I said I’d post. This has been sitting in my WIPs since late November/early December. This is what I was working on before I got sick. I’m so happy it’s done. I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out, although I may have written something similar to this already. It’s very much inspired by “The Only Exception,” by Paramore. I’m hoping I didn’t use this song as a title yet….Oh well. ENJOY!

Summary: Din has been wildly overprotective of you lately, but maybe it’s because there’s something lying deep below the surface that’s been threatening to bubble over…

Warnings: SMUT!!!!! 18+ Please!!! Oral (f!receiving), fingering, PIV sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cursing, canon typical violence, Jedi!reader, Razor Crest still exists (and it’s def bigger in my head than it is in the show), praise kink, friends to lovers, angsty but fluffy and smutty dw, I only proofread like 2 times so it may be bad (it’s 3:16am…so…we die like men!), AFAB reader, uhhh I think that’s it…

Word Count: 3,078

“I swear to the Maker, if you don’t get back on the Crest now, I’m gonna-,”

Din is cut off by the sound of your lightsaber clashing through the plastoid armor of the stormtrooper to your left. You swing your saber around, showing off more than you need to. You throw it down the alleyway, feeling through the force as it cuts through another stormtrooper before finding its way back to your hand.

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Kiss Me, Idiot - Hwang Hyunjin Enemies to Lovers au

Requested <3 

I mixed two requests together, and I hope it’s okay/ you guys like it! :)

Warnings: Smut ( a lot of it), Angst, fluff

Hwang Hyunjin, a name you detested. He was your typical bad boy; leather jacket, tight ripped jeans with a chain attached to two belt loops, a dangly earring, a tight necklace dangling from his neck, and unruly messy black hair. He had a smile that could turn any girl’s legs to jelly, and an obnoxious laugh that would echo throughout the whole school. If he’s so perfect, why do you dislike him? Well, he loved to mess with you any chance he got. You were both complete opposites, natural enemies at its best. He was an extrovert that naturally drew people to him, and you were a shy introvert who spent most of her time studying and working. He always walked around with his clique, a group of guys who dressed the same, all extremely attractive and heart throbs. They always had girls approaching and following them around, almost every girl confessing to one of them. Hyunjin was the most popular, along with Chan and Minho. You had a few classes with Felix, who was, oddly enough, incredibly sweet. None of the others liked to torture you. In fact, they were almost pretty normal. But leave it to Hwang Hyunjin to ruin your day. His little teasing sessions were psychically harmless, but man did they piss you off. Not because what he said was offensive, but because they made your cheeks turn red and your stomach start to turn with butterflies and self consciousness.“You’re so easily flustered, it’s almost pathetic.” He said as he leaned in close to your desk in your second class, where he, unfortunately, sat beside you. “Shut it.” You muttered, looking down at the paper you were writing.

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Three Little Words - Adrian Chase x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: hi hello i'm back with whatever the hell this is. if i've said this once i've said it a thousand times but i don't really like this i just feel like i should probably post it bc i haven't posted anything in a couple days and if i don't post i'll lose motivation so :') here you go. enjoy.

Summary: There's three things in life that Adrian Chase is really, really fucking good at: crime fighting, D&D and running away from his feelings.

Warnings: afab!reader (i tried to keep it as GN as possible though), SMUT, language, unprotected piv sex, cockwarming

Word Count: 5.6k

•••••••••••••••••

Adrian wasn't sure when it happened, or how he had allowed it to happen. At first he thought he was seriously ill. He assumed the butterflies in his stomach when you were around (not to mention the ache in his heart when you weren't) was a sign of a serious, underlying health condition.

It scared him, and he spent weeks trying to figure out what was going on with his body and his mind and his heart, ignoring any and all internet articles that told him what he most definitely didn't want to hear.

He wasn't in love, that he was sure of.

....Or was he? No! He was ill. He had to be. There was no other explanation for the strange things he had been feeling.

Chris, however, thought otherwise.

"I think I might have a heart condition or something." Adrian told Chris, both of them sat on the couch in Chris' trailer. He had seen you earlier in the day (though he was certain that you hadn't seen him), and everything he had been feeling came crashing down on him all at once from just the short glimpse he had managed to catch of you. The butterflies, the tingles, the aches, the urge to just run over to you and pull you into his arms to let everyone know that you were his and he was yours. Of course that didn't happen, and instead he ended up on his best friend's doorstep, seeking whatever comfort Chris would offer.

"Dude, why would you have a heart condition?" Chris asked, bringing the beer bottle to his lips, taking a swig.

Adrian shrugged, "I don't know man, but there's something seriously wrong with me."

Chris scoffed at this. He couldn't help himself. After everything Adrian had just told him, it was obvious what was troubling him, and Chris had a feeling that he knew exactly what was going on, he was just refusing to admit it. Ever the expert at ignoring and running away from his feelings. "Yeah, there's something seriously wrong with you, alright..." He mumbled, rolling his eyes.

Adrian sighed, "See? I knew it. I knew you'd notice too! I'm paler than usual and my heart keeps doing this weird thing where it feels like it's gonna jump right out of my chest. I think I have a serious condition. I should probably see a doctor. I'm seriously ill."

"Dude. You're not seriously ill."

"....I'm not?"

"No. But what you are is seriously fucking stupid." Chris got up, throwing his empty bottle into the bin as he made his way over to the fridge. "You're in love, asshole."

He almost crashed the Vigilante-mobile three times that night.

Honestly, it was a miracle that he had made it home without being pulled over (or dying, actually). His mind was racing with thoughts of you and love and how he could have possibly allowed it to happen. He had no interest in paying attention to the road.

Instead, he thought about the night he met you.

It was late, and you were alone in the bar, knocking back beer after beer like your life depended on it. Adrian had no idea why you were there, and he didn't care to ask. He just bought himself a beer, sat down next to you and the two of you fell into easy conversation.

You kept smiling at him and laughing at his shitty jokes and laughing at the serious things he said that he would never admit were serious because he never wanted to see your smile leave your lips. It made him forget about the shitty day he'd had. Made him forget about Chris' dad and the butterfly mission and everything else that had been troubling him.

An hour later, you were resting your head on his shoulder, slurring out, "Hey.... Do you-... Do you wanna come home with me? You're really pretty and i think you'd look really nice in my apartment."

He agreed. Of course he agreed, and by the time both of you left the bar he was just as drunk as you (it didn't take long for him to catch up to you after the day he'd had).

When you were around halfway back to your apartment, his arm wrapped tightly around you as you stumbled through the streets, you learned each other's names. In the elevator of your apartment building, after you hooked your fingers around his belt loops and pulled his body close to yours, he found out what your lips tasted like.

You didn't have sex that night.

Instead, you stumbled into your apartment, attached at the lips with your hands in his hair and his on your hips, and as soon as your back hit the bed you were out for the count. Adrian couldn't even find it in himself to be disappointed because you looked so fucking cute when you slept.

The two of you laughed about it the next morning as he fucked you before breakfast, lazy and slow, like you were lovers experiencing your only moment of peace together on a blissful Sunday morning. It hurt his heart when he left your apartment, but he left with your number and a request that he called you as soon as he had the chance because you liked him and you wanted to see him again.

So, he did just that.

In fact, he called you the next afternoon and within hours you were in his apartment. He left you alone in his room for a moment while he made you a cup of coffee, and when he came back he found you sat on the floor, a box in your hand.

"You play D&D?" You asked, glancing between Adrian and the boxed set in front of you.

Adrian wanted to crumple to the floor and die on the spot. "Yeah..." He grimaced before continuing, "It was a long time ago, though. I... I kinda don't play anymore."

"Oh. That's a shame. I've never played. I was hoping you could teach me." You shrugged, a pout on your lips.

It took every inch of willpower in his body for him to not get hard right there and then.

"O-oh? I mean... I wouldn't mind. I wouldn't mind at all, actually. In fact, I would love to teach you. I got bullied a lot in high school because I didn't hit puberty until my mid twenties and I spent almost all of my time in my parents' basement playing D&D with my brother and his weird friends.... But you didn't need to know that. And I should probably stop talking now and... just teach you how to play D&D." He smiled sheepishly and scratched at the back of his neck, but you didn't laugh or bat an eyelid at his rambling. You just nodded and grinned at him.

He spent the next hour helping you create a character, and then the two of you spent the hours after that playing. He tried to be as animated as possible, using any and all voices and facial expressions to keep you entertained. You smiled and laughed along with him, but eventually the laughter died down and when he looked over to make sure everything was okay on your part he realised that you were staring at his lips. But it was okay, because he was staring at your lips, too.

He had the best sex of his life that night.

A few weeks passed before he found himself at your door again, dressed in his Vigilante suit, the mask pulled over his face and a wound to his side. He wasn't sure why he came to you first. You had no idea about his secret life as the crime fighting hero. Maybe it was because your place was closer, or maybe he just wanted to see you again, to fall asleep in your arms after the stressful night he'd had.

He banged his fist against your door a few times before leaning himself against the wall, his hand clutching his side, feeling the hot, sticky liquid coat his glove.

You looked so cute when you opened the door in your pyjamas, a look of fear and confusion on your features as you stared as the masked figure standing across from you with his back against the wall, a steak knife in your hand.

He couldn't help but be concerned, though. Your self defence skills clearly weren't up to scratch.

"Who the fuck are you? Why are you here?" You asked, holding the small knife up in front of you.

"Oh, now you're asking who I am? You're supposed to ask that before you answer the door. Seriously, (Y/N), I can't believe you even opened your door at 2 in the morning without asking who's there or even looking through the peephole. Sure, you had enough sense to bring a knife, but I have a bigger knife. And I have guns. Imagine if I was here to hurt you or kidnap you. You'd be done for. Your mind is the greatest weapon you have when it comes to self defence. You have to think tactically and on your feet, and this," He pointed at you, "is a piss poor effort. You really need to be more street smart. In fact, I'll teach you. We can start tomorrow. I'll get you-..."

You scoffed, lowering your knife, "Well I'm sorry for not being fully prepared for a bastard in a mask to turn up at my door this late at night."

"Apology accepted, I guess. But I still expect you to be more prepared in future. You never know who's creeping around these days."

"Dude, you're the one creeping around. Now I won't ask again. Who the fuck are you, and why are you here?" You knew that voice, the way he stood, the way he rambled on, the way he used his hands when he spoke.

"Well..." He started, "I'm here because I'm bleeding out, obviously. And I really don't wanna go to the hospital because... y'know, super heroic secret identity reasons. So I thought I'd just.. come to the nearest apartment and ask for help."

"But my apartment isn't the nearest. I live on the second floor."

Adrian breathed out a laugh, "Yeah, you're telling me. Did you know the elevator's broken? I had to walk up two flights of stairs to get to here."

"Dude, I live here, obviously I know the elevator's broken. I just-..." You sighed. Deep down, you knew the masked figure at your door was Adrian all along, you were just hoping you were wrong. "Adrian, I know it's you under there."

Adrian wasn't sure whether to be relieved that you had figured him out so quickly. I mean, what else did he expect? He knew you were anything but stupid, and that he would've had to come clean to you at some point during the night when explaining how he knew which door was yours and how he knew your name. But what it really that obvious? When he gave it a moment of thought he decided that yes, it probably was that obvious.

You reached up and tugged at the mask, silently asking for permission to remove it, which he granted with a nod. When you pulled the mask over his head, he greeted you with a grin that honestly looked more like a grimace. "Surprise...?"

You let him into your apartment and patched him up as well as you could while you listened to him explain everything, something he was incredibly grateful for. It wasn't often that sweet-busboys-turned-masked-vigilantes could show up outside of someone's door and be treated with such care and kindness.

He had the second best sex of his life that night, made bittersweet by his injury and the fact that you broke down in tears shortly after, telling him that you needed time to think about him and everything you had learned about him and what he did over the last couple of hours.

So really, he had the best sad sex of his life that night.

As he drove his car home from Chris', occasionally swerving into the wrong lane or missing his turns or narrowly avoiding other cars on the road, he realised that it all made sense, and he couldn't deny it any longer.

He was completely, hopelessly and utterly in love with you.

The pieces all fit together perfectly. It was the reason he felt like he was going to burst with excitement every time you looked at him. It was the reason why he had been so reckless in the weeks you weren't speaking, so willing to risk his life (because what did he have to lose?). The reason why your smiling face flashed across his mind right before he fell to the ground on that field surrounded by dead bodies and dead butterflies.

The reason why he felt like crying when he woke up in a hospital room and saw you sleeping in the uncomfortable chair next to his bed.

You were there because Chris had answered one of your many calls. He didn't want to lie to you, and he figured you already knew about Adrian's identity anyway, so he told you everything. Naturally, you rushed to the hospital, and you never left his side.

When you woke up, you cried and peppered his face with kisses and told him that you cared about him and that you were so worried about him when he wasn't answering your calls.

"I'm not asking you to stop being Vigilante. I would never ask you to do that. I'm just... All I'm asking is that you be more careful. I don't wanna end up having to sit next to your hospital bed for three days straight again. And I don't wanna have to patch you up every couple of days. So please, just be more careful, okay?" You asked, his hand in yours.

He nodded in understanding, but after a moment he glanced up at you with those doe eyes, "....But if I do get injured you'll patch me up, right? Honestly, I don't think I can afford anymore hospital bills and you said yourself that-..."

"Yes, dumbass." You ran your fingers through his hair gently, "I'll patch you up."

"Thank god for that, because sometimes I pick fights with guys a lot bigger than me, or they're smaller than me but they have a weapon so..." He went on explaining, and you just listened to him, glad that he was safe and alive and back by your side.

So yeah. Adrian Chase was in love, and he had no idea how to deal with it.

The weeks following his realisation consisted of him swallowing down 'I love you' left, right and centre. He couldn't begin to count the amount of times he had gotten so close to saying it, to just biting the bullet and laying all of his cards on the table for you to either indulge him or shut him out. The suspense was killing him. He wanted you to know. Needed you to know, even. Yet that small voice at the back of his mind told him to keep it to himself, that you didn't love him back.

But everything you did made him want to get down on his knees and confess his undying love.

Your shoes at his door, walking into your apartment to see you wearing his hoodie that you had proclaimed your favourite, dancing around your kitchen to Britney Spears at 3am. Even the mundane things, like how you would both stand at the sink taking it in turns to wash and dry the dishes, had him literally swallowing down an 'I love you'.

If he was going to tell you, he wanted it to be romantic. In his head he planned to tell you at some fancy restaurant, or on a drive home with the windows open and his hand on your thigh. Any quiet, serene moment between the two of you would have been perfect.

He was balls deep inside of you when it happened, though. Far from ideal, in his opinion.

Adrian was on top of you, grunting and growling with his face nuzzled into your neck as he fucked you like his life depended on it. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders while you moaned out his name along with praises, telling him how good he felt and how well he takes care of you.

When he came, he came hard. Panting, moaning and grunting against your neck. And then-

"Oh fffuck... I fucking love you."

You stilled underneath him, eyes wide, breathing shakily, trying to figure out whether you had heard him right or whether your imagination was playing tricks on you.

It was only when he came down from the high that he realised what he'd said, and that you hadn't said anything to him in at least a minute.

He pushed himself up slowly, "Shit. Shit. Fuck. Oh, fuck. Fucking fuck. I'm so... I'm so sorry. Fuck. I didn't..." He trailed off. He couldn't tell you that he didn't mean it because holy fuck, he meant it. But then would telling you that he meant it make things worse for him since he had literally told you he loved you while blowing his load inside of you?

So, he did what he did best when he found himself in a situation he saw no way out of.

He slipped his cock out of you and climbed off the bed, quickly putting his clothes back on as he gathered them from your bedroom floor. He had barely even pulled his jeans up before he was pulling your bedroom door open, leaving you laid on your bed, stunned with his spend leaking down your thighs.

You got up after a moment, pulling a shirt on and following him, "Adrian, please don't go! Can we just talk? Please?" But by the time you had made it to the front door, he had already closed it behind him. You brought your hands up to your hair, gripping it tightly, resisting the urge to rip it out then and there.

He had just told you he loved you and then... left? You wanted to scream, to break down, to bash your head on the wall and knock yourself out. Instead, you leant against your door and took a deep breath.

Adrian, on the other hand, was running away from his feelings. No, he literally ran home. As soon as he got out of your apartment building, passing your neighbours and pulling his jacket on as he walked quickly, he ran. Away from your apartment, away from you, away from his feelings. Away from everything.

He didn't see you for weeks after that.

It wasn't that he didn't want to see you. He missed you, and everytime you called he had to fight the urge to pick up the phone just to hear your voice greet him, even just for a few seconds. It was more like he was too embarrassed to see you. He feared what you would say to him. Would you be angry at him for walking out? Would you grill him about why he told you he loved you in that particular moment? He had no idea how you would respond if he was to sit down and talk to you, so he simply avoided you.

Two weeks later, he came home and found the door of his apartment unlocked. He was on guard immediately, reaching into the pocket of his Fennel Fields uniform and grabbing the small knife he carried with him at all times (he bought one for you too... fuck, even knives were reminding him of you).

Adrian pushed the door open slowly, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of an intruder or an attacker. He didn't find one. Instead, to his shock, he found you laid on his couch, bare-legged and wearing only his hoodie.

You sat up straight away, "H-hey. I'm sorry for coming here uninvited. I just... You weren't answered my texts or calls and I got worried, so I asked Chris for your spare key." You shrugged. You figured that there was no way Adrian would let you in willingly. He had done nothing but ignore you for two weeks, so you had no choice but to turn to Chris. He gave up the spare key to Adrian's apartment almost immediately (he honestly seemed a little confused as to why he had it in the first place).

Adrian shook his head, "N-no... No, it's okay. This is fine. You just... I didn't expect to..." He looked down, realising he still had the knife in his hand. "Oh, shit." He dropped the knife, jumping back when it almost fell right on his foot. "I forgot I had that in my hand. I wasn't planning on stabbing you, by the way. I just got it out just in case it wasn't you. Not that I knew it was you. So maybe I was planning on using it. But I wouldn't have been planning to use it if I knew you were here beforehand." He breathed out an awkward laugh, following it up with a quiet, "Sorry."

He didn't know whether to curse Chris or thank him. He was being forced to face his feelings, but he wasn't sure that he would have ever gathered the courage to do it if you weren't right there on his couch.

You smiled at him, "Don't be sorry. I'm the one being kinda creepy. Sneaking in here uninvited. If you stabbed me, I wouldn't be angry. Well, I probably would be angry. But I'd understand."

Adrian nodded, a small smile on his lips, "Yeah."

The two of you just stared at each other in silence for a moment, until you sat up on your knees and patted the spot next to you. "Why don't you come sit?"

"This... This isn't one of those interventions, is it? Because I swear I've only killed half as many people as I used to since the whole butterfly thing. In fact, I would go as far to say that i've been slacking recently, and-..."

"No. This isn't about... whatever the hell you're talking about. Just come sit. Please." You were practically batting your eyelashes at him.

Who was he to resist when you were sitting there looking all pretty in his clothes?

Adrian almost tripped over his feet as he made his way over, sitting down on the couch next to you. He wasn't sure what to say or do, mostly because he wasn't sure what you wanted to say or do.

You didn't let his awkward demeanour deter you.

Slowly, you reached over, your fingertips brushing against the back of his neck. Instinctively, he leaned into your touch, basically moaning when your hand found it's way into his hair, scratching at his scalp gently. "I've missed you, Adrian."

At first, you were angry at him for just walking out like he did. He had told you that he loved you. Sure, he chose a... weird moment to tell you, to say the least, but you were confident that he meant it. But soon your anger turned to sadness, and your sadness turned to longing. You just wanted to see him again, to ask him about that night. To tell him that you loved him too. He didn't make that so easy, though. Now that you were in his apartment, sat next to him, touching him, things felt right again.

You still had a lot to talk about, and you knew how you were going to make him talk, but you were just happy to bask in his company for now.

Adrian glanced over at you, "I-I missed you too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He breathed out.

He was purring under your touch, and you were inching towards him slowly, until you were close enough to use the hand in his hair to turn his head towards yours, pressing your lips against his in a gentle kiss.

What started out slow and gentle soon turned hungry and desperate. He had forgotten just how much he had missed you in the time he'd been away from you. Your lips on his were enough to send him dizzy, and you soon found yourself being pulled on to his lap, straddling him.

Your fingers worked at the buttons of his red shirt, while his hands slipped under the hoodie, caressing your thighs and working their way up to his hips. He let out a gutteral groan when he realised that you weren't wearing underwear.

Your wetness pressed against the rough denim of his black jeans was enough to get him rock hard (then again, it didn't exactly take much to get Adrian excited).

You pulled the shirt down his shoulders, running your hands down his bare, toned chest until your fingers came across the button of his jeans. "I want you, Adrian. Can I...?"

"God, yes. Fuck. Holy shit. Yes." He wasted no time in helping you. You sat up on your knees while he pulled his jeans and boxer briefs down just enough to free his cock, already rosy red and swollen and glistening with pre-cum, ready to take you.

Adrian hadn't touched himself once since the night he left you. Everytime he tried, all he thought about was you, and then he found himself too sad to even think about making himself cum. So now, he was desperately horny, ready to fuck you into next week before you eventually made him talk about feelings and love and all that other shit he would rather avoid.

You slid down on to his cock, and he threw his head back, eyes squeezing shut as he let out a low moan from the back of his throat. "Ffffuck..." The grip he had on on your hips tightened, bruising and harsh as Adrian resisted the urge to thrust into you at a punishing pace.

You let out a breathless moan at the feeling of his cock stretching your walls, delicious and slightly painful but it sends you dizzy and you started to consider maybe just fucking him right there and saving everything else for later. But then you remembered who you were dealing with. So, you rolled your hips once, smirking as he all but lost his mind underneath you, and then you settled down into his lap, his cock twitching inside of you as you cupped his face in your hands and made him look at you.

He looked up at you with wide, doe eyes. His lips parted in confusion and his eyebrows furrowed. "I-... Fuck... What...? What are you doing? I thought we were-... Fuck. Fuck, please."

"Adrian..."

"Fuck. Oh, fuck..." He tried to thrust up into you, his feet planted firmly on the ground and his thighs straining, but you tightened your knees against him. "God... Fuck, I need you. Please-..."

"Adrian, we should talk."

"Talk? Fuck, you wanna talk now?" His voice cracked. "Fuck, fuck. Okay. I can talk. M-my name is Adrian Chase, also known as the crime fighting hero Vigilante. I'm 30 years old. I work at Fennel Fields. My Facebook password is Eaglylovesvig420. Remember to capitalise the E, that's very important. I'm-..."

You giggled, cutting him off. "Not quite what I was looking for, but good effort. I already know your Facebook password, though."

"....You do?"

"Yeah. You mumble in your sleep. It's adorable, actually." You leant down and pressed a kiss to his nose. He looked so fucking cute, and it was taking all of your strength and willpower to hold your hips in place, to not just give him exactly what he wanted.

"W-what did you wanna talk about then?" You were clenched around his cock so good, squeezing him just right. It was driving him insane how good you felt, and how little you were doing about it.

You weren't sure if he was playing dumb or if he was genuinely clueless. "Us, Adrian. We need to talk about us."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Us? What's there to talk about? We're fine. Never been better, actually. We're perfect. Wait-... Fuck, you're not breaking up with me, are you?" He asked, panic in his eyes.

"You've been avoiding me for two weeks. Dude, I thought you broke up with me."

"Oh... Sorry? That's my bad. I was just... I got busy." He wasn't exactly sure what to say about that. How to explain to you that he panicked and figured the best way to deal with his feelings was to run away.

"Did you mean it?" You asked, running your thumb across his cheek.

"M-mean what?"

"When you said you loved me. Did you mean it?"

Silence. Then, a quiet, "Yeah." Followed by more silence, until he broke. "I know I said it at a really bad time since we were having sex and it probably just came across as me telling you that I loved you because you let me come inside of you, which felt fucking amazing, by the way, thank you for that. But I promise it wasn't just the sex and that I did really mean it and you can ask anyone and they'll tell you that I'm in love with you. I'm being serious, even ask Eagly."

You smiled down at him. It was so funny to you how quickly he lost his mind, how easy it was to get him to talk about anything when you were sat in his lap, his cock buried deep inside of you. He hadn't realised that you were weaponising sex against him as a means to get a confession, and if he did realise, then he didn't care.

"Adrian?"

"Huh?" He was looking up at you with wide eyes, so sincere as he waited with baited breath for your response to his confession.

"I love you too."

"....Oh."

"Did you seriously think I didn't love you?"

"I-I don't know... I'm not good with feelings. You probably know that. I kinda ran away from my own feelings. Like... literally ran away. I ran home." He admitted sheepishly, but that made you laugh so his embarrassment soon subsided.

"Well, I love you. And I'm here now, and I'm not planning on going anywhere, even if you try to run away from me again. So..." You spread your knees apart, smiling at the hopeful look in his eyes, "I think you should fuck me good now."

He wasted no time.

One hand on your hip in a tight grip, the other on the back of your neck, holding you up as he snapped his hips up, fucking you at a brutal pace. You balanced yourself, hands on his shoulders, throwing your head back as you let out a broken moan.

You couldn't even think straight as he drilled into you, your mind completely flooded with Adrian and his cock and how good he was making you feel.

When you glanced down at him, he looked how you felt. His hair disheveled, glasses on the end of his nose, his face sweaty and flushed a dark red. His teeth grazed over his bottom lip as he focused on the way his cock disappeared inside of you over and over again.

The gasps and moans in the quiet room were soon interrupted by his voice. He couldn't help it, he had a dirty mouth when he was inside of you.

"Fuckkk... Always feels so fucking good. Love fucking you like this. You look so beautiful... Looking down at me while you take my cock like a good slut. Fuck... My little slut. The slut that I'm in love with. Ffffuck. I'm so in love with you. Tell me you love me." He growled.

"Fuck. Oh, fuck. I love you." You whined out, breathless.

Adrian couldn't help but grin. He was fucking you like a wild animal, in love and unashamed of his feelings. The need to hold himself back, to hide how he really felt about you, was gone. He was yours, he belonged to you completely. He was yours to kiss and hug and hold and fall asleep next to every night. And the best part? You loved him, too. You were his, too.

"Say it again."

"I love you. I love you. Fuck. Oh, Fuck. I'm so in love with you."

That was enough to send him over the edge.

His hips stilled, stuttering up occasionally, and his body writhed under you as came inside of you. His lips parted, eyes squeezed closed and panting while rope after rope of his hot cum coated your walls.

Adrian's grip on the back of your neck loosened, and you collapsed against his chest, his cock softening inside of you. You nuzzled your nose into his neck, whimpering as you tried to catch your breath, peppering gentle kisses over his soft, sweaty skin.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. He never wanted to let go of you or be apart from you again. "I love you..." He breathed out.

It was crazy to him how easy it was to say those three little words now that he had finally faced his own feelings.

You lifted your head up and gave him the biggest grin, leaning down to press your lips against his, mumbling a barely audible, "I love you too." Against the corner of his mouth before resting your head on his shoulder again.

A few moments of silence, and then...

"Hey, (Y/N)?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Please don't tell anyone my Facebook password. I have some serious progress on Farmville, and I know that if Chris ever found out he'd-..."

Your giggle cut him off and you shook your head, "Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

••••••••••••••••

Tags!! (sorry if i've missed anyone <3)

@neptuneswritingwork @vlkyriesgf @juniebugg @bvcksmurdock @cressida-clearwood @withahappyrefrain @all-the-captains @chaseadrian @tinalbion @ladamari68 @flower-slut00 @milfodyssey @madmax2191 @myguiltypleasures21 @andromacher @osnapitzandi @flutterskies @emmaflag17 @trash--blog @jlclvsjpm @papitas-con-sal @thedamchii @abbynx @skateb0red @fenderenderender @possessedxparrot @transias @aprilfire18 @winterrfalconn @the-a-word-2214 @violetrainbow412-blog @partr1dge @lunaticsandidiots

overhear ; Kim Namjoon

pairing: kim namjoon x female reader

words: 1,470

genre: angst, fluff??

summary: you accidentally hear namjoon call you clingy.

a/n: i missed writing again. yooo im so mad bec i had to write this twice bec my laptop suddenly shut down, its so annoying bec i liked the first version better :<

masterlist

(gif not mine)

You pushed open the front door to the boys’ apartment. Hoping to visit your boyfriend, Namjoon, who you haven’t seen in about a week. Voices echoed throughout the house, confirming that the boys were indeed home. You clutched the bags of food in your hands, figuring that they were probably hungry so you bought some on your way here. As you neared the living room, where they were all staying, you heard Namjoon’s voice. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop but his voice was booming loud.

“I’m so sick and tired of her!” Namjoon’s voice yelled out, making you halt and frown. “I can’t go through an hour without Y/N spamming me with texts and calls. She uses my clothes all the time as if she doesn’t have her own. It’s starting to annoy me,” You almost dropped the bags you were holding but you stopped yourself before anyone would notice you were standing just outside of the room they are in, “I just want my own space and time but she’s just so clingy. I wished she would just stop.” You heard him mumble the last part. Your eyes brimmed up with tears upon hearing his statement. You had no idea he felt this way.

You heard enough so you decided to creep into the kitchen and leave the food atop of the counter, leaving a small note saying to enjoy the meal. You left the dorm without further notice.

You made your way home, shutting yourself into your bedroom before letting your held back tears fall down. You had no idea Namjoon felt this way about your affection. You thought back about the days where you would question him how he was doing or if he was getting enough sleep and rest. You grabbed your phone, deciding to read all the texts you’ve been sending for the past week. Frowning, finally seeing why he called you clingy. You sighed, calming down, deciding to switch things up.

You stood up, heading to your closet, removing all of Namjoon’s article of clothing from your cabinet. Folding each and one neatly before returning it back to his closet. You tucked your phone away, not wanting to be tempted to message him once more today.

Namjoon came home later that night, dead tired from all the practicing he was required to do. The house was quiet and dark which was very unusual but he decided to shrug it off, thinking that maybe you were in the shower or sleeping. He silently made his way towards your shared bedroom, in case you were indeed sleeping, he didn’t want to bother you. Pushing the door open to the bedroom he saw your figured hunched up at your side of  the bed completely. Scared that you would almost fall off if you moved one inch, he dropped his bag on the floor before approaching your frame. Namjoon wrapped his arms around your body, fixating you so that you would be able to get proper slumber by having a better posture. His actions caused you to jerk awake, eyes fluttering open.

“What are you doing?” You mumbled, letting out a small yawn. Namjoon smiled at your sleepy state, pressing a light kiss on top of your head.

“You were almost falling, baby.” He informed you, letting go of your body to change his clothes into much comfortable ones. As he opened his closet, he saw how his clothes were neatly folded and piled upon each other, he thought of it as you just clearing out his clothing so he let it go. Once Namjoon was done preparing for bed, he saw you trying to fumble away from his side of the bed which made him confused so he walked towards the bed, sliding in. Expecting for you to climb in his arms, but you didn’t which was odd. “Are you okay?” He asked, worriedly.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You said so quietly that he almost didn’t catch it. Namjoon once again shrugged it off, grabbing onto you before pulling you close to his chest. His movements made you let out a tiny yelp at the suddenness. His words earlier once again echoed through your mind, “Uh, Joon, can you let me go? I-it’s too hot for me.” You excused.

“What?” Namjoon frowned at your words.

“Please.” You whispered, trying not to be too loud because you knew he had a tiring day. He listened to your command, letting you go of his arms. Once he did, you moved further away from him, clutching your pillow instead, “Goodnight.” Your back facing him.

Namjoon didn’t reply, instead he watched as your back greeted him instead of seeing your lovely face like always.

A week has gone by and you were astounded with how well you were on being less clingy. You had work almost everyday so it helped on being a distraction. Sending Namjoon a simple ‘good morning’ text when you saw that he left for work in the morning. Greeting him with a kiss on the cheek when he arrived home and preparing a small meal for him to consume before disappearing into the bedroom to give him enough space and time for himself.

Namjoon was starting to notice the sudden change of your behavior. He sometimes caught himself staring at his phone, waiting for your affectionate texts as usual. Staring at the studio door, hoping for you to walk right in. His expectations got his hopes up and only to be left disappointed when you weren’t appearing. Once Namjoon arrives home at your apartment, he expected for you to bounce right at him to engulf him with a hug and pamper him with kisses like how you usually do, but instead he was greeted by silence and cold air.

“Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?” Namjoon finally piped out once you left a meal on the table and was about to head out, to leave him alone again. You froze on your spot, thinking of the right words to say.

You let out a small laugh, back still facing him, “Of course not.” You shrugged before continuing to walk once again but you were pulled back by his hand on your arm making you jump at the sudden contact.

“Stop that.” You studied his face, noticing how he had a stressed look plastered on.

“Stop what?” You questioned.

“Stop leaving me alone!” Namjoon’s hands went up to his hair, gripping on it lightly. “I miss you so much and I know something has changed. You barely speak to me anymore, you don’t cuddle with me when we’re about to sleep. You don’t even tell me you love me anymore.” He mumbled the last part, arms falling down to reach for you, encasing you with his arms. “Please tell me what I did wrong, Y/N. I want to fix everything.”

Tears started forming in your eyes at his words, “I-I overheard you telling the boys how clingy and annoying I was,” You started, “so I decided that maybe I should lessen my affection so I could give you the space you needed.” You felt a tear slip down your face. “I, uh, also stopped wearing your clothes as you were complaining that I wore them all the time.” You let out a shaky breathe, “I’m sorry if I smothered you too much.”

“No! No no no.” Namjoon lets out rapidly, “That was so fucking stupid of me to say. I was so stressed and I know that shouldn’t be an excuse for me to speak of you that way. I’m so sorry Y/N.” His hands reached up to caress your back softly. “I love your constant affection, it makes me feel so special and loved. I love seeing you pass by the studio just to make sure we all have proper meals, and I absolutely love seeing you wearing my clothes, you look adorable in them. Please don’t take my words from that day so seriously. I’m sorry I hurt you, my queen, I promise to never hurt your feelings ever again. I love you so fucking much.”

You both agreed to head to bed after the small talk you had. As you were getting ready, Namjoon handed you his hoodie that had his all familiar scent on it, “Wear it, you look lovely.” Was all he said before he returned the bathroom to do his nightly routine. You did what he told you to, slipping the hoodie on your body before climbing into the bed.

Namjoon shortly slipped beside you and you let him hold you in his arms once again, “I missed this, I missed you.” You heard him mutter quietly.

“I missed you too.” You admitted, snuggling closer to him. “I love you, Joonie.”

“I love you so much more than you imagine, Y/N.”

RIGHT ON THE MONEY joel miller x f!sex worker!reader 2,959 words warnings; age gap, arguing, unprotected sex

 “oh fuck. that’s it, that’s right. god, i love this pussy so fucking much, that’s it.”

 she was lucky she was on her hands and knees so that the bum behind her couldn’t see her face. she was so incredibly bored, and to tell the whole truth, she just couldn’t wait for him to finish so she could get paid and he’d leave. she even felt like she could fall asleep right then and there, if there weren’t ration cards on the line. 

 so instead, she resorted to gripping onto the dirty sheets that were clearly too small for her mattress and whimpered, praying that her acting skills were believable enough to send her customer over the edge. 

 fortunately, she was a better actress than she thought. 

 “you like that, girl? you like taking my cock?” he panted, his hips stuttering with his release, leaning over her until his forehead pressed against the valley between her shoulder blades. she sighed as she fell into the mattress, her patience running thin the longer she waited for him to climb off of her. his palms soothed over her ass and she flinched when he chuckled, giving her flesh a few light smacks. “always feel so goddamn good,” he muttered breathlessly, finally rolling off of her, the mattress dipping beside her where he laid. “hope to do this again sometime.”

 her hands found her blanket and she balled the fabric in her fists as she sat up, covering her chest as she reached for her shirt, slipping it over her head. “well, as long as you got cards for me, i’m always here,” she replied as she snatched up her underwear from the floor, stepping back into them and tugging them up her thighs. she turned to the man in her bed and cocked an eyebrow, “i’ll take them now, thank you.”

 he rolled his eyes and scoffed as he sat up to snatch his jeans from the ground, digging into his pockets and pulling out a wad of ration cards, tossing them back onto the bed. she dipped her head in thanks as he redressed himself, rolling his neck while he buttoned his shirt back up, making his way over to the door. she followed close behind, catching the door when he threw it open. he turned around, the corner of his lips curling into a smirk as he ran a hand through his sweat-slicked hair. “see you around.”

 she only pursed her lips and nodded in reply, ready to close the door on him. 

 all up until he turned to stare at something outside her apartment, his eyebrows furrowed. “the fuck are you looking at, old man?”

 her heart skipped a couple of beats at this, and she peeked out into the hallway and there he stood. 

 joel fucking miller.

 she couldn’t remember the last time she’d even seen joel, which was quite remarkable, given the fact he lived literally right next door. she guessed that the last time would have been just a few weeks prior, when her grumpy and, in this case, rightfully annoyed neighbor came knocking on her door one night after her customer had finally left.

 the customer in question from that night was quite a moaner, and really, it was like he wanted the entire building to know what he was doing. he was so loud, and unfortunately, right in her ear, and she swore her eardrums didn’t stop ringing until a few days later.

 it was safe to say that she was especially happy when he finally came, and even more ecstatic when he didn’t hesitate to drop her payment off on the bed and hurry off. she sighed in relief when she closed the door behind him that night, letting her eyelids flutter closed as she leaned back into the door, feeling her muscles ease and relax in her body. 

 that was, until the knocks on her door interrupted her peace.

 the wrinkle in her brow returned deeper than ever, wondering why the fuck her customer would come back. she turned and swung the door open angrily, only for her breath to hitch in her throat when she realized that it wasn’t her customer standing there after all.

 she blinked. joel miller.

 her next door neighbor, the man she’d seen around boston a couple of times, even had a shift with him here and there. they never so much as spoken a word to each other, however, but it certainly didn’t stop her eyes from wandering. he was older than her, at least two or three decades older, but damn it, how could someone have aged so well in the world they lived in now? 

 and there he was standing before her, his eyebrows pinched together, clearly pissed. 

 “you know the walls are thin here, right?” his voice was deep and a little husky, and she flushed, ashamed that it had such an effect on her. “it’d be nice if i could get some sleep.” her eyes widened and her feet shifted beneath her weight, her gaze cowering to the floor below. “i— i’m sorry, i—“ her teeth sunk down into the plush of her bottom lip as she glanced back up at him, “i can make it up to you. what do you want? i can give you some of my ration cards, or i have—“

 “just keep it down,” he interrupted with a grumble, “i don’t care how you get your cards as long as it doesn’t affect my sleeping schedule.” he turned and began to shuffle his feet away and back into his apartment, but something within her didn’t want him to leave, not just yet. so, she practically lunged forward and caught his upper arm with her hand, his breath hitching as he glimpsed from her hand back over to her. 

 “please, let me make it up to you.”

 she was just going to offer him some whiskey or some cards and that was it— full honesty. 

 she couldn’t even remember how one thing led to another, or what came over her and possessed her to creep closer to him, her eyes trained on his lips. 

 she was surprised that he didn’t make any moves to pull away.

 before either of them knew it, their lips were on one another’s and his hands— god, his hands were all over her body, he was practically worshiping her. and for once, she moaned— and not just one of her fake moans she’d emit for the sole purpose of working her customers up in hopes of draining more money from them— no, she moaned at her own will. 

 truth be told, she’d never ever been touched the way joel touched her then. he touched her with a purpose, as if she were a treasure to be sought, to be handled with nothing less than delicacy and respect. joel kissed her with passion, real fervor that was so intoxicating, she felt drunk on it. and when he finally pushed his cock into her and fucked her like none other had before, she actually came, giving her her first real orgasm in she hadn’t even the slightest idea how long. 

 there was no denying that she felt something towards him, felt some sort of connection that she had never felt before. it came so suddenly and all at once that at first, she hadn’t known what to do. but as joel nursed her into her high and she gazed deep into the dark, earthy soils of her irises that were so dark, they seemed to bleed into his pupils, she knew that she was fucked. 

 literally and figuratively. 

 but yet, it was in those ravines of dark umber that she saw something else, something faint but still clearly there. in that little spark of light she seemed to catch in his eyes, she knew— she knew that joel felt something back.

 why else would he be touching her like this, like she was delicate?

 it was because of that glimpse that she was so confused and truthfully, hurt and upset when after that day, he seemed to just never be around. at first, she wondered if he had left boston altogether. he was still her neighbor after all, how could she have not caught him early in the morning or returning back home at midday?

 it was why she decided to stake him out, and it was then that she realized that he hadn’t left boston as she had previously assumed— he was ignoring her.

 it was the reminder of that notion that drove her to mutter his name underneath her breath, ignoring the customer still standing behind her as she narrowed her eyes at the man before her. he glanced away and stepped back into his apartment, hand finding the door to slam it back shut. 

 thank god she was quicker than that. 

 just before the door could slam closed, she smacked her palm into its center and swung it back open, letting it crash into the wall beside it. joel’s eyebrows furrowed at this as he turned, like he was trying to just ignore her presence altogether. when he realized she wasn’t leaving, he turned back to her, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. “the fuck are you doing here?” he asked with a sigh, and the wrinkle in her brow deepened. “the fuck am i doing here?” she scoffed, shaking her head and crossing her own arms over her chest. “how about we start with the fact that this is the only way i’ve been able to see you for weeks?” she tittered, throwing an arm off to her side, letting it smack back down to her side. 

 “why do you care?” he questioned, and she rolled back onto her heels, teeth gnawing down on the inside of her cheek. she knew why she cared, the question was: how could she explain to him why? what if all this time, she’d just been misreading his touches, that faint spark she saw in his eyes that night? what if there hadn’t been anything there at all, that she was imagining things. 

 but then, why would joel seem somewhat nervous standing before her today?

 joel usually seemed confident, and it showed in his body language that he knew what he was doing. but right now, as he stood there before her, his body didn’t seem to add up to the way he felt. there was something almost insecure in the way he stood— he almost really did seem nervous. 

 “why do i care?” she reiterated, her vision glossing over with a layer of tears, and she cursed herself for seeming so vulnerable, so weak. but she couldn’t help herself— joel hadn’t escaped her mind one minute since that night weeks ago. tonight, she stood before him, and she feared that it’d be her only chance to tell him how he made her feel. “i care because i— fuck, joel, i feel something for you.”

 the lump at the base of his throat visibly bobbed when he swallowed, clearly taken aback by her admission. she scoffed and rested her hand on her hip, her opposite cupping her forehead as she tore her gaze away from his, trying to sort out her thoughts. she shook her head and blinked away the tears in her vision, although they were still there, evident through the sting in her eye sockets. “and i— i think you felt something that night too.”

 she glanced back up to joel but he wasn’t looking at her anymore, his eyelids closed as he shook his head towards the floor. he snorted, but it was in his hesitation to reply that seemed to make her feel more convinced that she was right. “that’s crazy.”

 she pursed her lips together and dared to step closer to him, and he blinked up at her, furrowing his brow. she rolled her bottom lip between her teeth and shook her head, the glossy barrier returning to her eyes and burning them. “no it’s not,” she murmured, standing as close before him as he’d let her. “you’re crazy,” he said again, voice firm but yet, still somehow wavering. she dropped her head to catch his gaze again, blinking when she found it, uncertain if a tear had slipped from her eye or not. “what is it? am i crazy? or are you scared?”

 his eyelids narrowed but he didn’t dare speak, now avoiding her gaze altogether.

 she knew it. she fucking knew it. she was right. 

 “are you scared, joel?” she repeated, “are you scared because you think you might have fucking felt something?” 

 he didn’t speak, but he didn’t have to. it was in the way he gulped and tried to meet her gaze to prove she was wrong but failing miserably that it was confirmed. she stood a little taller when joel straightened his own posture and looked down at her, the anger he felt before melting away and all he could think to himself was how much he yearned to have her again, just like that night weeks prior. she stepped just a little closer until their breaths were practically one, and for a moment, it was silent, save for the sound of their own uneven breaths. 

 “guess i was right on the money, huh?”

 again, joel didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. instead, he circled his arms around her waist and pulled her in closer, the grays on his chin scratching hers when their lips surged into one another but she didn’t care, in fact, she loved it. she was like putty in his hands when he kissed her, her own hands venturing from his shoulders, up his neck, and all the way to his salt and pepper locks of hair, gripping them tight between her fingers. 

 there it was again, that feeling of being touched like she was made of porcelain, fragile and delicate. she could feel joel’s passion through every touch, through every feel of his tongue exploring her mouth. his grip around her waist only tightened when he backed them up and towards his own mattress, spinning them around so that he could gently guide her down into the bed, their lips never once leaving one another’s. his palms soothed up and down her waist, his fingertips sneaking their way beneath her t-shirt, tugging it up, up, up, breaking their lips apart so that he could slip it over her head. she tugged at the hem of his t-shirt as she panted, insinuating that she wanted it off.

 he was quick to discard his shirt, and she made quick work of unbuckling his belt, letting himself do the rest. he pulled her panties down her thighs, skipping past the foreplay, both of them wanting nothing more than to feel each other as much and as deep as possible.

 when joel bottomed out into her with just one snap of his hips, the moan she released was like music to his ears. he threw his head back and squeezed his eyelids shut, a groan slipping past his lips as he pulled back just to bottom out back into her again. he gazed down at her as a stream of tears fell in rivers down either side of her face, his name along with a string of curses spilling from her lips.

 and joel thought to himself that this was the most complete he could remember feeling in years. 

 she reached up for his face and he obliged, letting his body fall down onto hers, their lips finding one another once again. joel’s pace was brutal, just the right mix of hard and deep that had her over the moon. for a moment, the entire world, fucked up as it was, and all it’s infecteds and humans and all living things seemed to melt away, leaving them, just them. 

 for at least a little while, it was just her and joel.

 “oh, joel,” she cried between kisses, his forehead resting against hers as he pounded into her sopping heat faster and faster, and she tightened around him, chasing both of their highs. her elbows rested on either of his shoulders and his fingers tugged at his hair, her hips grinding up into his, seeking even more friction. she wanted him deep, as deep as possible. 

 she was drunk again, drunk on joel.

 “oh fuck, oh, fuck!” she mewled and she clenched around him again, earning a string of grunts and groans from him. “i’m gonna— oh joel, you’re gonna make me come.” he nodded his head against hers, trying to catch his breath enough to speak. his hips dared thrust even harder, droplets of sweat dripping down onto her skin as he sent her tumbling over the edge. his hips stuttered when he came soon after, letting himself go inside of her, letting himself be vulnerable for someone else for the first time in a long time.

 silence fell down over them like a warm blanket as their sweat-slicked chests heaved, both chasing air back into their lungs. joel slid off of her and landed on the spot of the mattress beside her, one hand resting on his stomach, the other sliding behind her head to support it. she turned her head and blinked over at him, her lips curving up into the shape of a crescent moon as she turned herself onto her side, resting her hand on top of his. with the arm stretched behind her head, he drew her in closer until she was nestled into his side, his fingers finding his blanket and draping it over their bodies. 

 “you feeling alright?” he murmured and her smile grew, nodding. “i feel.. wonderful.”

a/n; so that fic i was talking about earlier today… yeah.. finished this sucker all in one sitting while rewatching episode two lol anyways i think i feel kind of good about my writing here, so hopefully you all enjoy<3 and as always, feel free to imagine either pedro’s joel or video game joel

Ride Me

PAIRING: Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves x Reader

SUMMARY: You were always fascinated by Ben’s tentacles and he noticed that. Now he’s going to use that information to his advantage

GENRE: Smut.

WARNINGS: Fem-Reader, lewd, riding tentacles, degrading and praising

WORD COUNT: 980 words

You were always fascinated by Ben’s tentacles. Like how do they work? How does he summon them? Does he feel pain when someone hurts on or the tentacles? How can he summon a specific number of tentacles? Can he summon more than 4 tentacles? And a lot more questions are always roaming on your mind.

Whenever Ben used his tentacles you couldn’t help but stare at them. They were amazing. The way he could control them even if they weren’t part of his body. You tried to be as cautious as possible when looking at his tentacles, but of course he noticed. At first he thought that maybe you were shocked or scared of them, but the more he used them, the more he realized that it was all the opposite. You were admitting them. So he decided to use them whenever he could. Being the person he was, he loved being admired and you were giving that to him.

Of course your thoughts didn’t stop there. The thought of him using the tentacles on you was something you really wanted but you were scared to even suggest to him something like that. What if he felt hurted and thought that you weren’t satisfied at all with only him? So you kept your thoughts to yourself. On the other side, Ben wanted the same. He normally uses his tentacles most of the time and he has been wanting to use them on you for quite some time now but he didn’t know how to come to you with the idea. Yeah, you loved the tentacles, but what if you had limits with them? Life was too short to keep only wondering. And it all came to one day while making out with Ben.

Ben was kissing you passionately, something you really enjoyed since most of the time he was just needy, not that you complained. You didn’t even notice when all of your clothes were on the floor of his room, the kisses he was giving you left you dizzy. You started to leave wet kisses on his neck but he stopped you.

“Wait. I want to try something” you could hear doubt in his voice. As if he was scared of what he was about to do. You wanted to ask about what he was talking about but the tentacle coming out of him caught you by surprise. “Ride it” you were surprised. You stayed in silence for a while, looking at the tentacle that was in front of you. Looking at your response, or well, lack of it, Ben decided to take the matter into his hands.

“Didn’t you hear me? I told you to ride the tentacle” you looked at him in disbelief. Another tentacle came out of Ben, this one wrapping around your waist, making you get up a little bit so the other one could slide between your body and Ben’s. You didn’t need the tentacle guidance to know what to do next. You descended on top of the tentacle. The coldness of the tentacle made you shiver at the contact. “Go on, ride it like the good girl you are” you didn’t need to be told twice. You started to move slowly, noticing the difference from when you rode his leg or his cock. It felt wet, not only your juices help you slide better through the length of the tentacle, but the gooey substance that coated the tentacle was also helping. The sounds were filthy, and that only made you more turned on than you already were.

Ben was staring at you. The way you moved at your own pace, giving yourself the pleasure you needed, the way your face showed the pleasure you were providing yourself, your chest coming up and down due to your erratic breathing, the way you looked into his eyes while riding one of his tentacles. God, you were so hot. Ben grabbed the back of your neck, kissing you. The tentacle around your waist started to move your hips faster. You moaned into the kiss. Ben realized that at any moment you would cum. He managed to move the tentacle you were riding, making the pleasure stronger.

“That’s it slut, cum for me. Be a good girl and cum on my tentacle like the needy whore you are” it took only a few more seconds and you came on the tentacle, your whole vision blurred and heat waves were going through your whole body. A soft moan came out of you. The view of you cumming was a view Ben never grew tired of. And it made him proud to be the reason for your pleasure.

Ben gave you small pecks, praising how good you were for him. Always saying as you were told. Again, the tentacle around your waist moved you up, and you felt the tentacle you just used to get yourself off playing with your entrance.

“Ben…”

“Just do this for me, ok?” How could you say no to him? You nodded and the tentacle started to enter inside you. Your mouth opened up, it felt good. The irregular form of the tentacle managed to fill you up perfectly, but you still preferred his cock. The tentacle started to move in and out of you making you feel overwhelmed due to your previous orgasm. Ben reached for your clit, rubbing it, helping you get closer and closer to your high. It was just too much.

“So tight… it doesn’t matter how many times I fuck you, you still manage to be as tight as possible” his words were what you need. You came around the tentacle.

“That’s my good girl” Ben’s tentacles got off of your body, making you collapse on his body. He held you. You could feel him leave kisses all over your face. Using his tentacles on you was definitely something he’s going to do more often.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

n a v i g a t i o n

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐁𝐨𝐲 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Previous Joel Fics: Mule [5.1K], Atta Girl [10.2K]

Summary: Ellie steals one of Bills magazines and you and Joel decide to see what the fuss is about.

Word Count: 3k

CW: Possible spoilers for episode 3, but I haven’t seen it! Based on the game. Heavily inspired by my bestie @foxilayde. A much lighter fic than the last few, a little bit of dry comedy, a little bit of playful Joel, but also a little bashful. Consumption of porn magazine, companions to lovers(?), p in v sex, fingering. Not proof read.

Tease: “Can feel you squeezin’ me. You gonna c** for me?”

“N-Now Ellie, that ain’t for kids-“

“Woaaah!” Ellie had exclaimed, holding up the magazine rustling in her hand by her fingertips, her arm outstretched to take in the whole double page, “How- How the hell would he even walk around with that thing?!”

That had piqued your interest, eyes snapping up to the rearview mirror. Ellie was giggling, grinning from ear to ear as Joel turned in his seat to snatch the paper emblazoned with PLAYGIRL in red lettering from her hand.

“Would you jus’-“

“Hold your horses!” Ellie had insisted, “I wanna see what all the fuss is about!”

You hadn’t said anything at the time, chuckling at the way Joel’s cheeks flushed as Ellie asked all kinds of inappropriate questions. It was only when she discarded the pornographic magazine on the floor of the truck at the end of her smutty inquisition and fell asleep on the back seat upon Joel’s insistence that you made a note of where she had dropped it in the footwell.

Joel, having stopped to rest, slept in the front seat. His head tilted forwards; a gentle snore indicated he was out cold. With some courage and a little luck, you managed to grab the magazine without waking either of the sleeping duo and exit the truck.

Settling back in the bed of the pickup truck now and minding how uncomfortable it was to lean against the metal, you set a flashlight against the floor, open up the worn pages of the filthy magazine and chew nervously on your lower lip.

Of course, you weren’t to judge Bill for his sexuality. You never had before the outbreak, and there certainly wasn’t any point in being a bigot when the world had ended. In fact, thumbing through each crinkled page, you can’t help but thank Bill for his impressive collection of smutty male pages.

Each page had a collection of pictures and articles on everything from the ‘best sex positions for your zodiac signs’ to ‘average penis size of men around the world’. Clearly photographed in the 80s, based on the moustaches alone, each man photographed in a multitude of poses was muscular, slathered in oil, and donning the tiniest speedos while exhibiting the most prominent bulges beneath the aquablade fabric.

Ellie was right, how do they walk around with those things?

One, in particular, caught your eye; the sunset-orange speedos sat snug against the globes of his ass. The muscles in his back were defined, rippling with each of his poses. They were so clear beneath his golden tan you could probably label each picture like an anatomy textbook. He was pretty, and he made your face warm up.

“That your type?” A gruff, rumbling voice makes your body jolt in shock, inhaling a petrified gasp.

Joel had stepped out of the truck while you were distracted by the glutes and pectorals of the gorgeous male models, catching you off guard as he walked up behind you. He crossed his arms over his chest, biceps straining the sleeves of his denim shirt.

“Mhm- N-No! No, I was just reading about how standard American men have a less-than-average dick length,” you lie smoothly to cover up being caught red-handed, using some of the data you had read a few pages back. “What about yours? Is your moody personality compensating for something?”

“You ain’t funny,” he answers flatly, refusing to rise to your childish jabs as he climbs up into the truck bed with you. You catch a glimpse of the pistol buried in the waistband of his jeans, and your pulse races faster than it had with any of the round bums you’d seen in the pages.

“I’d say I’m hilarious. It’s the trauma of experiencing The End. It builds chara-cter,” you ramble, only stuttering when Joel manages to pry the glossy papers from your hands. His eyes scan over the page with a look of disinterest.

“But outta date, don’t you think?” He grumbles in that grumpy, man-child way he does that always has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. He’s pointing at the very 80s-style porn staches.

“Dunno, wouldn’t exactly call your facial hair ‘trendy’,” you scoff, watching him flick to the page titled in bold capitals: EXCITING SEX TRICKS TO TRY!

It’s ridiculous. You’re both grown adults, and it’s not as though the two of you were born during the outbreak. You’d both been through high school, and no doubt had sexual partners before Cordyceps took hold of the world. However, the prospect of talking sex with Joel Miller was mortifying.

You can feel the heat creeping up your throat as his eyes scan the sections of information with such indifference that you’re almost sure that he’s bored. Perhaps he was. It wasn’t as though you had caught him taking some time to himself during your great journey.

Joel is so lost in the writing that you allow yourself a moment to take in the slope of his nose, the slant of his cupid's bow framed by his greying moustache. Beneath his creased, frowning brow, his long lashes surround the deep brown of his eyes as they flick back and forth across the page. He was a handsome man. Was there no one waiting for him back in the Boston QZ? He’d never sa-

“The fuck is guddlin’?” Joel speaks out, shocking you from your thoughts with a start. You blink slowly, probably looking really fucking stupid as you choke on the words stuck in your throat when Joel looks up at you with a quirked brow.

“I-“

“I mean, I know guddlin’ in a fishin’ sense,” he interrupts, pointing to the page and prodding it with the tip of his finger, “Not in a-… Not in this sense, though.”

“Does-… Does it not explain?” You ask him quietly, your mouth suddenly very dry. Joel gives a light shrug, his eyes wandering over the page in search of a definition.

“Oh- Here,” he points out. He takes a second to read, his tanned skin tinged with pink as the words sink in. “Uhm… It’s- Well, it’s-“

Poor Joel looks as though he’s seconds away from an aneurysm attempting to explain the bizarre sex act without actually saying it. You scoff, snatching up the crinkled magazine and reading over the asterisk in small print at the bottom of the information page.

‘To insert one's finger(s) into a woman's vagina to pleasure her digitally while simultaneously having penile-vaginal intercourse with her.’

You pause, your lips parting as you look at Joel with a weak laugh. He’s rubbing at the back of his neck, eyes cast somewhere on the horizon in an attempt to avoid your own. He’s as embarrassed as you are, it seems, clearing his throat with a weak chuckle.

“Well,” he mumbled, eyes flicking to the magazine, “Must’a been good for it to end up in that.”

You nod slowly, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you glance down at the black and white print that appears to all blur together in embarrassment. “Mhm.”

You can feel your pulse between your thighs, your skin tingling beneath what you assume is Joel’s gaze. It’s crude, utterly filthy, but you can imagine the stretch, the feeling of his weapon-calloused fingertips coaxing your g-spot as he slowly sinks into you.

Slowly, with trembling hands, you close the magazine with a nervous laugh, discarding it with a half-hearted toss over the edge of the truck bed and onto the roadside. “Stupid shit anyway…”

Your aimless comment is met with silence, and you’re far too humiliated to face the notion of looking at Joel. You imagine he thinks you’re insane, having caught you reading and enjoying this filth.

“… Take it you ain’t tried that before?” Joel’s gruff voice cuts through the sound of the crickets in the surrounding grass, and you can’t help but laugh, simply shaking your head and avoiding his gaze.

A delicate brush of skin against your ankle sparks something raw up your spine. You look at it quickly, seeing Joel’s fingertips tracing the rough circumference of the joint beneath them. Your skin prickles pleasantly, and you look up at your partner- your smuggling partner- through your lashes.

His expression is firm, but his eyes betray his outward calm display. They’re flickering between your lips and eyes, his exhale slow as he attempts to force out some words he appears afraid to put out into the atmosphere.

“Do you… Do you wanna try it?”

It’s haphazard, delivered clumsily, and so utterly unlike Joel. You can see the cringe in his expression when the sentence settles in the air, and your heart lurches when you see he’s sincere. That he wants you and that he’s letting you know after years of hiding it from you.

God, you don’t even give him another second to doubt himself. You’re scrambling into his lap, straddling it and pressing your mouth to his in a kiss that hurts more than it pleases, his teeth scraping your lower lip and your tongue tracing his own.

You can feel it through the thin, worn denim of his jeans, the jump of his cock when you settle your crotch down against the seam. His hands are vicious, grasping handfuls of your thighs, your ass, your hips. He could bruise the shape of his fingerprints into you, and you’d thank him, would beg him to put you through the pain again to brand you as his.

He groans out your name into your mouth, but it sounds more like a growl rattling in his chest. You’re fumbling in the low lighting with his belt buckle, the clinking of the clasp bringing you relief when you free Joel’s hips from their leather confines. It’s almost frantic, the pace you set as you try and fail, try and fail before you successfully pop the button of his jeans and yank them over his hips. There’s not enough time to rid him of them completely, so Joel settles with the waistband resting just above his knees.

“C’mere,” Joel husks, his lips brushing yours as he speaks and forces your cargo pants over your hips without even bothering to let down the zip. It hurts a little, smarts, but it sparks something desperate in you when you realise it’s pulled down your underwear too, leaving you exposed to his gropes.

One hand grasps the globe of your asscheek, giving a brutally harsh squeeze. The other sinks between your thighs. Joel’s groan of delight when he finds the insides of your thighs soaked causes your cunt to throb before he’s even touched it.

"Is that all me?" He asks you, his voice dipping to a deep, spine-shuddering hum. He sweeps the calloused pad of his index fingertip up the inside of your thigh and through your pussy lips. You can hear the wetness there when he notches against your clit, when he sinks the very tip of his fingers into your entrance. "That all me, or did you like the pornstache more than I realised?"

You usually would scoff in Joel's face, tell him to stop being so ridiculous and self-absorbed, but he's slowly circling your frayed bundle of nerves with his thumb, and your jaw is slack. You can't even think of a witty retort, just grasping feebly at the collar of his denim shirt.

"I'm gonna take what I want from that lack of response," he fills the silence for you, an infuriating smirk settling on his lips as he sinks his fingers inside of you.

The lack of resistance and eagerness from your cunt catches you both off guard, Joel groaning in delight as you take the length of his digits so easily. "Fuck~”

You whimper out Joel’s name, thighs trembling on either side of his lap as he coaxes his fingers towards him inside of you and wasting no time in finding the spot that would bring tears to your eyes.

“Ah,” he breathes, a smirk playing on his lips when he sees your torso crumple inwards as his touch brushes something electric inside you. “Ah- that’s it, ain’t it?”

It’s pathetic. You want to answer him, even sob out wordlessly as the wave of pleasure crashes through you at the delicate touch, but your words are stalled in your throat as Joel circles that sensitive wall inside you with his nimble fingers.

“C’mere,” he growls, seeing your expression contorted desperately and deciding he can’t wait much longer. One hand is still busy with building your orgasm, and his other clumsily pulls down his boxers and exposes his ruddy length.

Joel gives you barely a moment to absorb what it is you see, managing to process the pink tinge to the velvet skin of his cockhead and the smear of precum that glistens under the low lighting before he’s hoisting you over him, knees on either side of his hips.

It’s filthy and disgusting and raw, the way he uses his free hand to sweep his cock across your clit. It sparks something dangerous deep inside your abdomen, another wave of increasingly unmanageable bliss that wraps around your spinal cord and constricts your lungs. You barely choke out his name, your fist punching his shoulder as if to say, ‘stop teasing!’ before Joel sinks into your wet heat with a broken rasp of your name.

Tight. Everything is coiled up so tightly inside you as the width of Joel’s cock-head pushes past your entrance, your walls swallowing him and squeezing him as he sinks in slowly. Your fingernails are digging into his shoulders through his denim shirt, tears of bliss welling in your eyes as he fills you completely. All the while he continues to circle and poke and prod at your g-spot, simultaneously building up your orgasm and wrecking you.

“That’s it,” he husks, breathless as he helps you settle down to the hilt of his dick. He’s nudging your cervix, and you feel so impossibly full that your body is trembling around him, pushed to its absolute limit as your tears stream down your cheeks. They drip from your chin, leaving deeper wet stains across the faded blue of his shirt.

Then he’s shoving his hips upwards and into you, and it’s like you can’t hold onto him tight enough. You’re scrabbling for some kind of grip that can brace you against the simultaneous stimulation of his thrusts and his fingers circling something mind-numbingly raw inside you. The rusty parts of the van creak beneath the motion, and between your slurred curses and weak cries of his name, you’re trying to warn him to be quiet, not to wake Ellie.

You can barely manage to coax him on, eyes rolling back and forehead falling forward onto his shoulder as you give in entirely to the creeping orgasm that picks up your spine.

“C-Can feel you,” Joel stumbles over his own words and laughs, his cock twitching inside you as he continues to drag in and out of your abused pussy, “Can feel you squeezin’ me. You gonna cum for me?”

You want to slap him. Want to make him walk to Pittsburgh with this cocky attitude, this cavalier facade that is so unlike his usual brusque persona. Instead, you’re keening for him, nodding your head against his collarbone and squeaking out your best impression of a ‘yes, Joel, please, please!’

Shit- it’s coming. You feel it racing through you before he even delivers his devastating blow. You think it can’t get any more intense, that it can’t feel any better than this, until he’s pushing his hips upwards and manoeuvres his hand to brush his thumb against your swollen, sensitive clit.

The print of his thumb doesn’t even make it a full rotation before your orgasm comes roaring forwards, slamming through your body to the point it’s almost painful in the best way. You’re quick to smother your scream of his name, biting down hard on the denim fabric at Joel’s throat and releasing the devastating shout of his name into the fibres between your teeth.

Poor Joel stumbles with how hard your body clamps down on him, his galloping thrusts reduced to sloppy stutters of his hips as a grating, pained groan rattles through his ribs beside your ear. Distantly, you can feel him pulsing inside you, filling you until his cum is spilling down the sides of his cock.

“God-“ He chokes out, voice catching in his throat as you heave for breath. It’s not as though he has the energy to lift you from him, still buzzing. You’re somewhere else entirely, vision blurry and consciousness far outside the dermis walls of your body.

Slumped against Joel, you focus on breathing. How do you do it again? In and out… In and out. It’s embarrassing, the way he’s left you unsure of essential bodily functions. The ease with which he’s numbed your mind and body.

Ironically, though, he makes it easier to find your way back to yourself. His steady, albeit heavy, breathing ticks like a metronome, easing you down from the impossible high you’ve ascended beneath his touch. He smells like salty sweat, like mud that cakes his boots and the truck's tyres.

“You think maybe we should pick that magazine back up?” Joel mumbled into your hair, oddly quiet and almost shy despite the blunt delivery of the query.

Pausing, you glance up at him through your lashes and catch a tinge of embarrassment on his cheeks. He’s staring down at the sidewalk next to the tyres, no doubt eyeing up the pages strewn across the cement flags.

“… Well,” you whisper, voice hoarse, “You never know what survival skills we might need. With your blueprints for Molotovs and upgrading weapons and my articles on ‘bizarre sex positions’, we’re bound to survive the apocalypse-“

“Alright, darlin’,” Joel attempts to speak you down from your amused ramblings, made awkward by the crudeness of the conversation once again.

“I mean, what the fuck is the ‘Pretzel Dip’?”

“Fuck if I know,” he admits with an air of chagrin.

“… You’re not much of a playboy, are you Miller?”

“Shut up and put your pants on.”

END

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💌 best friends to lovers with johnny 💌

desperation

fandom: monsta x member/reader: minhyuk , female genre/warning(s): smut, college!minhyuk, idk jealous smut?, face riding length: 3K+ summary: [request] in which some girl flirts with minhyuk and you get jealous. please see full request at the end a/n: hello, it’s been awhile. i’ve lost motivation, but thank god for biases, eh?

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