i love older men who r unreasonably sexy like he could do anything and it would make me horny
i wanna leave bite marks on his tummy âŚ
Claire Keane
we're not kids anymore.
ojovivo
Jules of Nature
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
taylor price
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸

Origami Around
hello vonnie
Misplaced Lens Cap
sheepfilms

romaâ

â
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One Nice Bug Per Day

Kaledo Art

oozey mess

pixel skylines

ellievsbear

seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Argentina

seen from Morocco
seen from United States
seen from Japan

seen from South Africa
seen from Latvia
seen from Austria

seen from Singapore

seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Colombia

seen from Singapore

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
@filledwith-darkness
i love older men who r unreasonably sexy like he could do anything and it would make me horny
i wanna leave bite marks on his tummy âŚ

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draw on me | daryl dixon
summary. whilst getting a tattoo, you didnât expect your tattoo artist to be so attractive. one accident leads to another, and youâre bargaining to get more than ink on your skin (3k)
warnings. smut, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), tattoo artist!daryl au, reader has a voice kink, accidental touching, nervous!daryl, tattoo stuff (ink, needles, etc), swearing
MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG đť
an. i know i said i was going to post this sooner than i did, but i have just been feeling really dreadful and was unable to focus on finishing it. but here it is, and I hope you all enjoy this au!
divider credits. @cafekitsune
The compact array of needles afflicted ink to engrain in your flesh, the buzzing of the machine doing nothing to dull the sinful thoughts that were coursing through your mind in regards to the tattoo artist that had placed both stencil and needle on your upper thigh. It wasnât painful despite what you had anticipated, it felt nothing more than a cat scratch, and you were not sure if that was simply how absorbing the strenuously long process of a tattoo felt or if it was down to the distraction that was hunched over, glancing between your leg and the reference photo.
There was music in the background, the speakers that were placed between the wall and ceiling bleating out a song that you were certain that you had heard before, but you could not for the life of you think of the name of it. The sound eased your tension a pinch, though your body was not tightly wound from the sharp edge that stroked down your flesh, but because of the man that was on a seat before the reclined service chair that you were in. You tried to focus on the sound, though such efforts were fruitless, for the man with his icy eyes and long hair, and the smouldering lines that contoured his face in the most delightful way.
He was beautiful, as beautiful as the photos of his work that had initially attracted you online; you had never expected to come into shop and be greeted by him - Daryl, your artist. His confidence seemed to be slacking, almost shy when he introduced himself, but that didnât phase you as you ogled at him. He made sure that you liked both the stencil itself and its placement before he had began, and though you supposed that it was what any responsible and credible tattooist would do, it made your heart flutter. He greatly cared about his work, and he smiled up at you briefly before placing his gloved hand upon the middle of your thigh, silently critiquing his own work.
âI think it looks great so far.â You told him as his eyes flickered back to the selection of ink that had been imbedded in your skin. On instinct you wanted to squeeze your thighs together, having a man this close, especially an attractive one was sending waves of arousal through your entirety. A smile was exchanged between the pair of you, and you bit your lip, silently hoping that he would take notice of the state that you were in from him rather than the art that he was pressing into your flesh.
âYer sittinâ really well.â Daryl stated, and your eyes wandered down to his arms where his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, where amongst the fine hair of his forearms there were smatterings of ink that created some small images. His gaze had returned to your thigh, where his project rested, still yet to be finished. He grabbed a paper towel, wiping away the excess ink that pooled away from the tattoo he was working on, tossing it to the side onto the counter where he kept his equipment, as he began to draw on you again, his movements as precise as that of a trained archer.
âIs it weird that it feels oddly good?â You werenât sure why you said it, your nerves spiked as soon as the words departed from your mouth, but Daryl did not seem to find it to be a strange enquiry. He probably got asked all kinds of questions all the time, ranging from the dry conversation of the weather to people asking what he was doing at every single step that his artwork required. âSorry, is that weird?â You could feel the flush of heat working its way across your cheeks and neck, the embarrassment starting to worm its way into your bones.
âNah.â Daryl stated bluntly, seeming oddly nervous. He had from the start of the appointment to the present, but you supposed that was what he was like. A little shy, a little distant, and you found that the perception made him even more attractive to you. âMosâ people âpect it to hurt. Doesnâ really, depends on ya pain tolerance too.â He was speaking from experience, and you only realised you only got wetter when he spoke. That accent, the gruff undertone that deepened each of his words, it made you shift in the discomfort of your arousal, his gloved hand shifting up and up, past your thigh and upwards.
A gasp released from your throat, making Daryl immediately freeze as though he had been shot. His fingers were touching your cunt through your shorts, and you had no doubt that he could feel the warmth through the thin material. It had only been brief contact, but it was enough to make your pussy shudder with excitement, although that your brain knew that it was not logical to seduce your artist. âShit.â He cursed, instantly retracting his hand, placing the tattoo mechanism down onto his wheeled table. ââM sorry, didnâ mean ta. Fuck.â His pupils were wide as he stared at you, silently begging for forgiveness, and you felt awful. If only youâd have stayed still, then the predicament would not have unfolded.
âItâs okay.â Your voice came out smaller than you intended, and afterwards you realised that it may have made it seem as though you were unhappy about the situation. It hadnât been your intent for your body to respond to him, although in other circumstances, such as if you had met him in a bar on a late night you knew that it would. But this- this was unprofessional, you were his client,and while you had been initially attracted to him, you had not planned at all to make a move. âI moved, itâs my fault.â
That was the truth of it, and there was no more that you could explain away in response. âYa okay? We can stop if yer want.â Daryl hadnât picked up the machine, his palms were still empty, and you looked at them. Really looked at them this time. They were large, and you imagined the skin of them being taught with all sorts of brazen scuff marks and possibly tattoos of his own. Without your brain recognising its own orders, your tongue left your mouth, swiping over your bottom lip, and it had his eyes fixated on the peak of pink that was hydrated by your saliva.
âNo.â Perhaps your answer was too quick, it was instinctual, wanting to feel his hands that were wearing those black gloves back on your body. âI want to. Want to feel your hands on me again.â For crying out loud, why couldnât you just stop whilst you were ahead? You were practically digging yourself into a hole, and it made you relieved that the shop was empty and that there was no one else I thin the vicinity to witness you ridicule yourself. If there had been, you were certain that you would have already left by now, needing to get away from the eyes that were drawn onto you, the light snickers that were aimed in your direction.
None of that happened though, for it was just you and Daryl beneath the bright white lights that were constructed into the ceiling, beaming down at you with a ravenous glower. âIf ya feel uncomfortable, tell me ta stop.â You were not sure what Daryl was on about, that was until he peeled the gloves from his hands, leaving them discarded on his small table that rested beside him. He was going to touch you, rather than continue on with the appointment that you had specifically scheduled with him. And whilst that had not been what you had meant when you had spoken aloud to him, you wanted him to continue all the same.
His fingers were wide and the flesh of them warm as he trailed them past the tattoo that had yet to be completed, causing sparks of anticipation to linger throughout the entirety of your bloodstream. You had been correct about his hands, the flesh was aged from use, which meant that he more than likely had a manual job previously to tattooing, and there were scatterings of ink pressed into his skin. âThis okay?â He asked as danced his fingertips across the taut fabric of your shorts. You inhaled once more, nodding your head slowly.
âYes. Itâs okay.â It was far more than okay, but the last thing you wanted was to sound like a desperate whore. But all the same, you felt like one, starving for his touch, and you lifted his hips as he gently pulled down the shorts that you had worn, revealing that you had decided to forgo underwear when you had gotten dressed previous to your arrival, despite not having expected to be in this predicament. Perhaps it had been the universe already having planned this moment, as swiftly as you lifted your legs so he could remove your shorts entirely. It was all set into motion, and you leaned your head backwards against the headrest of the seat as his grazed hands stroked your inner thighs, making your body want to jolt from the anticipation.
âSuch a pretty liâtle cunt.â The praise of your most intimate body partâs appearance made another wave of slick to hydrate your folds, and your heart to flutter from its cage in your chest. He dragged a finger through your folds, making your breath hitch from the contact, and your hips wiggle towards him. Your entire body was on a drug like high of anticipation, keening towards his every move. It was as though the entire world around you faded into nothing, you were oblivious to everything, including the monotone buzz of the ceiling lights and the hum of the air conditioning that ventilated from the walls.
A moan rattled out from your throat as he toyed with your entrance, before plunging a finger inside, encasing his digit within your folds that gripped it with an aroused vengeance. And whilst you hadn't expected it, at least not yet, he added another, moving the two in union, all the whilst his gaze was flickering between the pleasure that contorted onto your features and your cunt. He chewed on his lower lip, lost in the sight that was settled before him, taking it all in, savouring it.
Daryl couldn't wait any longer. It was a sudden realisation that hit him like the impact of a gunshot, striking him into succumbing to the irrational need to taste you. His head dived forwards, hair still tousled beneath his slate grey beanie, latching his lips around your clit, suckling on the bud that conformed wave upon wave of ecstasy to transcend through your veins. Your mouth gaped open in vacant whines and deprived moans, your hands grappling onto his beanie, removing it and it ending up who knew where, as you carded your fingers through his hair, tugging on the locks that extended from his scalp.
The action itself had a butterfly effect, causing him to groan against your most sensitive centre, while his fingers continued abusing your pussy. He sucked harder, more ferociously, and you had no time to warn him of the looming bliss that was cascading over you, and so without a word and only sounds that did not belong in a tattoo studio, you came on his fingers, coating the length of them in your release. But he didn't remove them, he allowed you to ride out your high, his movements having slowed as well as the suction of his mouth having become gentler.
Your eyelids flickered from open to close a few times as you came down from the spirals of your release, your hands having gone slack upon his head as your thighs tensed, the soreness of the tattoo he had yet to finish ebbing within your senses, but in a good way. To have felt so delirious from the actions of a singular man was a rare occasion, a blue moon that resided in your sex life, and said moon was full, etching a monumental moment act within your reality forever. To have spoken of it could have a disastrous follow up, so all you said were a few breathy curses, alongside a "that was really fucking good."
A smirk had found purchase on Daryl's wetted lips, his tongue collected the flavour that you had dispersed onto them, before he pulled himself upwards, pressing his lips to your own so that he could share it with you. Your hands rested on the base of his throat lightly as you pulled him closer, suckling on his tongue as he exerted a gruff moan into your mouth. You hadn't moved an inch, but he had, slithering up above you as his hands idly played with the clasp of his belt, the sound ringing like a chorus of bells within your ears.
Without any warning, he reclined the chair so it laid completely flat, causing you to fumble as you fell backwards, air escaping your chest as your back took the impact. It didnât make much difference to Daryl, he was putting you in the exact position that he wanted, and if he wanted you that way, then you wanted it too. You were utmost certain after this that he would have to sterilise this entire room, but that didnât seem important to him. He was going to have you without regard to the aftermath, and it was more than fine by you.
"Ya wan' me to fuck you?" How was that even a question? You couldn't get enough, and in response you muttered 'fuck yes' into his breath, feeling impatience strike you as he took the motions to pull himself from his jeans, leaving the denim encased around his legs as he skilfully clambered over you so that he could press the warmth of his cock head against your entrance, dragging it through your sheen of cum that he hadnât completely cleaned up.
His chin was lathered with the leftover essence of the taste of you that he had gotten, but that didnât matter, you kissed him anyways, muffling the moan that wished to be a scream as he pushed into your cunt, each inch slowly becoming accustomed to the tight vice of your pussy. âSo fucking big.â He was, but not too big to the point that you were engulfed by pain. It fit perfectly, in a snug way that had you clenching around him again and again until his cock was fully inside of you. He gave each of you a moment to adjust to the pressure, nipping at your throat as he tried to contain his own noises, before he pulled back, only to push forwards again.
The rhythm he created triumphed between steady strokes and deep thrusts, and you felt yourself clamp down around him as though your insides were trying to throttle his dick when he expelled a curse. "Fuck. Ya feel amazin' sweet'eart. Never felt a pussy so damn good." His accent had more of a southern twang to it than it had had previously, and you could only imagine all the dirty sinful things he could say. His hands slapped down beside your head, using the headrest as leverage to move his hips languidly, to propel his strokes into your warmth until it hit that particular spot inside you just right.
All of that nervousness that had created an aura around him at first had disappeared. He was becoming lost in the transpiring feeling of pleasure, sweat beading at his brow as he exhaled deeply through his nose, the air fanning down onto your skin. Everything felt so warm, your skin, your heart, everything. You winced gently as his denim clad thighs brushed against the tattoo, and from realising that, Daryl became more careful with the distance between the two of you, narrowly avoiding doing it again. It was like he was attuned to every fixture of emotion that your body felt, and you bit back the necessity to cry.
It just felt too good. "D-Daryl." Your words were caught in your throat, and your hands pried into his hidden shoulder blades, needing to clutch onto something - onto him. "I'm close." This time you had gotten the warning of your release out, although barely. It's not as though he couldn't tell from the excess slick that surrounded his cock, helping it slide in and out of you with each thrust, but you had managed to tell him. He hummed in acknowledgement, removing one of his hands from beside your head to drift down your body onto your clit, rolling circles onto it with the pad of his thumb.
"Me too." He agreed, his voice deep and stern as you watched as his brows creased together, not slowing his administrations until you finished, allowing himself a few more thrusts until he had to pull out, cumming on your leg and narrowly avoiding the ink that he had pried into your flesh. He remained lying atop of you for a few moments, before he lifted himself up, tucking his cock away much to your displeasure. You weren't sure what to say to break the silence that was mute aside from your heavy breaths, but luckily you didn't have to, as he broke it first. "Stay there, I'll get the stuff to clean ya up. Then we can book yer second session."
Excitement bounced against your ribs as you followed his instructions, watching as he narrowed his blue eyes at you in a lustrous way, before he began to shuffle through his equipment, grabbing this and that which he needed. There was going to be an encore, a 'second session', and from the look that he gave you, you would be getting more than him sketching a needle against your thigh. "I look forward to it." Your voice was raspy, tired and exhausted, but you couldn't wait for the follow up. It was certainly going to be a memorable tattoo once it was finished.
butterfly kisses | daryl dixon
summary. you give daryl butterfly kisses on his back, over all of the scars that had marked his skin throughout the years (0.5k)
warnings. fluff, mentions of angst and abuse, Darylâs scars, established relationship
divider credits. @cafekitsune
Calming Daryl down when he's upset and feeling worthless would include
Requested
⢠You noticing him walking tensed around while nervously huffing before you walk up to him and ask whatâs wrong â˘Â Him beginning to shake through both, his anger and his sorrow, as it would slowly break out of him â˘Â You stroking over his arm to comfort him just to see how the first tears fall down his face as soon as you touch him again â˘Â You hugging him so he can bury his head into the curve of your neck while youâre wrapping your arms tightly around him â˘Â Him just hugging you back while quietly sobbing before you carefully try to find out what made him feel this messed up â˘Â Him telling you a little hesitant, just for you to tell him how much you love him and how important he is to you and everybody else and just continuing to whisper more soothing wordsÂ
â˘Â Him slowly calming down while youâre holding him and stroking over his back until you feel how he slowly stops to tremble â˘Â You cupping his face with your hands, looking at him and kissing him softly to cheer him up and show him your love once again before pulling him again into a hug ⢠You telling him about all the people he has already saved, how often he put himself in danger for others, how often he saved lives, how often he made you feel better, cheered you up and gave you hope and about what a great human being he is in general â˘Â Him slowly calming completely down while holding you tightly and listening to your words before making sure on his own way that you know how grateful he is for having you by his side
@dasani-saraai
As requested.
Touched - Protective!Daryl Dixon x PlusSize!Reader (she/her)
Gifs are by the prolific and talented @daryl-dixon-daydreams. Follow them for writing and lovely, lovely gifs! (Links: One & Two)
Dividers by @firefly-graphics who also deserve a follow!
This was requested by @sweetpeapod, and I fell in love with her idea immediately!
Daryl x chubby!reader - "Can't you see that you're hurting me?" I have thoughts about this. So reader and Daryl have feelings for each other, but neither one know because idiots in love ofc. Daryl is protective, maybe a bit touchy feely (for him), just like casually sitting pressed against her when she's cold, hand on back to guide her, gets closer than necessary, that kind of thing. And one day reader snaps because she's so in love and thinks he doesn't feel the same and she's hurt because he's always so nice and almost loving (genuinely loving) and it's like her heart is breaking every time she remembers they are just friends. Then BAM love confessions....

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Iâll Be Delicate
The reader shows Daryl Dixon that thereâs still peace to be found in this world with soft words and delicate fingers.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Word Count: 2.1k (approximately) Tags: sweet and soft with some humour n gloom, sfw Notes: Anon requested a simple hair braiding fic and I had to be extra and turn it into an entire comfort fic. Iâm not sorry.Â
@bakedcrispssâ @phoenixblack89â @btsiguess-kpopâ
Keep reading
~â˘âĄâ˘~ I Like It Long
âł Summary: While out on a run, you and Michonne start lightly teasing Daryl for having his hair grown out. But there's a hidden reason as to why he won't cut it. (Daryl x Fem!Reader)
âł Setting: Alexandria, post Savior war
âł Word count: 1.4k
âł C/W: Just smut n hair pulling
âł A/N: This spawned from me writing the context plot of another fic and I was like⌠wait (And thank yall for the attention on that Mother's Day post??? Yall are so sweet đđŤś)
My hair is really similar to Daryl's when it's partially or almost dry and it's actually my favorite thing about myself like xbsosjdjdneisnsiasjebeiisjabajissn
You loudly banged your forearm against the glass door of a long abandoned drug store, not hearing any noise inside. Vines and weeds had grown through cracks in the concrete, winding up the sides of the building.
âSounds pretty clear,â You shrugged, holstering your bow and opting for hand-held blades as Michonne pulled open the handle. You, her, and Daryl were clearing through a nearby town while out on a supply run, opting to make quick work of the task in favor of getting home.
âââ â§Ë° đđđđđ đđđđ đđđđđ, đđđ đđâđ đđđđ đ đđđ
â â [ đđđŤđ˛đĽ đđ˘đąđ¨đ§ đą đŤđđđđđŤ ]
female reader, inclusive language. minors dni.
kinks: protective daryl, reader is extremely girly and feminine, fingering, very light dom/sub, fucking on a motorcycle, daryl sucks his fingers, pet names, oral sex, cum swallowing, slightly rough sex, some dirty talk, true love
warnings and triggers: age difference, reader is a former sex worker, trauma bonding, violence, death, slut shaming, bullying
word count: 13.4k
plot with porn, slight alternate universe.
youâre known as the princess of your group - soft, feminine, a girly girl who doesnât want to get her hands dirty. despite the cruel new world youâre living in, you still hold on to whatever remnants of beauty you can find, hoping for a better tomorrow.
daryl is the opposite of everything you stand for. heâs hardened, rugged, ruthless - heâll do whatever it takes to survive. despite your differences, you find yourselves drawn to each other in ways nobody, not even you two, can really understand. you bring softness to his strength, and in daryl you find a friend, a lover, a protector.
heâs everything you find warm and safe in this cold, scary world. you cling to him, and the best part?
daryl clings back.
Guy who is so big and so strong and he towers over you and could manhandle you easily but his hands shake when he touches you and he looks up at you with big puppy eyes and begs for a taste đ¤¤đ¤¤đ¤¤ You jerk him off and feel how thick and heavy he is in your hand and how it twitches when you call him a good boy. When he's fucking you too fast and you tell him to slow down and he whines, his hips stuttering a bit as he paces himself, leaning back to look at you with teary eyes and a cute lil pout. Of course he'll obey you every time, even if he could flip you over easily and take what he wants, because he's your good boy. â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸

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Welcome!!
My name is Adriana, and if your'e on my page it's because of Pedro Pascal.. isn't it? Yeah, I thought so. Feel free to stay awhile and peruse some goodies on le menu below.
My blog is all about Pedro, with a few other fandoms sprinkled in.
Please check below for works on your favorite Pedro boys! (I do not write or reblog RPF.)
Feel free to leave an Ask and say hi, discuss fics, or plain just fangirl with me! I don't bite.
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(Please be aware that this blog is for those 18 years or older, minors DNI)
i will look at u with my big doe eyes ⌠and u will pay for my iced coffee
đśđŞđˇđŹđąđ˛đľđ (joel miller x reader)
âŤâ・⪠âËâŹ ďž manchild - sabrina carpenter
summary: pre-outbreak joel (in his early 40s) with young reader (early 20s). joel technically being the confused, but grumpy old man he is. being playfully annoyed by your remarks when singing manchild, and showing you later what that old grumpy man is able to do with you.
words: 2,1k
trigger warnings: age!gap, oral sex (f receiving), sex (doggy style), praise kink, dom!sub, teasing.
a/n: hey guys, how y'all doing... yea, i literally have been gone for i think more than a year.. whoops... well, my life will be very busy again but tonight i just had the urge to post again, even if it's not really long. and since i recently have been OBSESSED with Sabrina Carpenter, i thought this would be cute, or not.
well, i hope you enjoy! (keep in mind, english is still not my first language)
âŤâ・⪠âË⏠ďž
window rolled down, the fresh summer breeze surrounding you. you looking outside, passing by the neighborhood while some kids play in their drive-way. the smell of pollen, people doing some bbq outside, mixing together with the smell of him.
leather, cedar, whiskey.
and a little of that perfume you once mentioned you liked, which he's now always putting on a little, for you.
you glance to the side.
his furrowed brows. some grey hair in his curls. his hooked nose. weathered jawline. joel fucking miller.
and he was yours.
what you still can't really believe.
yours. such a short word, but such big meaning.
and of course you were his. he made sure of that.
âŤâ・⪠âË⏠ďž.
you first met him, when your car randomly broke down at the gas station. you were just on your way to move into that new house you rented in that neighborhood.
you cursed under your breath, kicked against your car in frustration, when you heard a "she's uh.. not turnin' on'?"
a southern thick accent. gruff.
"obviously-", you snapped first, before cutting you off as you turned around to look at him.
good heavens.
you took a deep breath. a small smile. "sorry, um.. yea, not working"
"mind if i take a-"
"yes please-- go right ahead", you immediately jumped at the offer.
he took a look, while you just kind of took a look at him.
early forties perhaps, calloused hands--
"it's the battery'", he looked up, caught you staring.
your cheeks turned red.
he didn't smile, not really smirked either, but the corner of his lip slightly twitched, maybe went up a little.
"yea- the battery", you just nodded as you would understand anything, but you give him a helpless look after.
"i'll fix it", he reassured.
and after he did, you said your goodbyes, he really did not want to make a big thing out of him fixing it and left.
when you drove out of the gas station, you sighed.
fuck, i should've asked at least for his name.
no one of you expected to meet again.
you didn't really believe in coincidences, but your house ending up some houses next to his?!
âŤâ・⪠âË⏠ďž.
now you're here. his hand resting on your thigh. you being together.
officially.
it took time, obviously.
he wasn't an easy man. no man of words, but actions.
having some troubles opening up. thinking how he deserved something soft, sunny and kind as you? he would never admit it, but him being insecure about you getting bored of him one day, not able to keep up with you, because you're still so young,
and he's..., well, not.
him not understanding those... tiktoks? trends? instagran?
whatever, for you, he's perfect.
even if he was getting slightly annoyed with your current sabrina carpenter addiction. when you connected your mp3 player with his old truck, blasting up her music. like right now.
"please let me turn it up?", you look at him with puppy eyes. he just slightly let out an annoyed gruff, before giving a small nod.
manchild.
you loved that song. not that you could relate to it with joel. but, well, other boys you knew.
or other men who are... not joel miller?
"you said your phone was broken, just forgot to charge it.", you sing next to him. "whole outfit you're wearing, god I hope it's ironic"
his brows furrowed.
"did you just say you're finished? didn't know we started--"
his jaw clenching. followed by a confused look.
you didn't noticed, just kept singing, leaning over to him to annoy him with your singing.
"it's all just so familiar. baby, what do you call it?", you place a small kiss on his cheek.
he exhales.
you're acting out that whole song.
"stupid? or is it... slow? maybe it's.. useless? but there's a cuter word for it! i know, manchiiiild"
you went on for the rest of the song. while, not really noticing how kind of annoyed he got.
when you arrived home, he allowed himself an annoyed comment under his breath. "why are you kids' not listening to linda ronstadt or something-"
you chuckle.
âŤâ・⪠âË⏠ďž.
safe, warm, protected.
that's how you feel when you're snuggled up next to him, like right now. his arm wrapped around you, while his other hand holds his beer, his feet up on the coffee table.
while you're scrolling on tiktok, he was watching football, like every saturday. the day where he's mostly off work, and the day, where he can finally relax. lazy evening, he called it. no actual talking, just being in each other's present. and after he's done with tv, you guys lay down in bed, him giving you soft good night kisses, which sometimes turn into more, if he's not too exhausted.
while you're scrolling, you chuckle. then he gives you either a warning glare if the game is intense right now, or look at you confused, not understanding why that video is so funny.
as you're scrolling, you get across that dance to manchild. you look at it bunch of times, joel first confused why the audio is repeating the whole time, then realizing that's the song from the car.
you chuckle, while getting up, placing your phone on one of the shelfs next to the tv, and starting the countdown to record the dance.
you can feel joel's confusion, then quite irritation behind you, while you dance. you can see him sitting in the background of the video.
after you're done, you flop back next to him, he lets out an annoyed sigh, since it nearly makes him spill his beer a bit.
"sorry", you quickly say, with an innocent tone.
"ya' not gonna' post that anywhere, understand?", he grumbles.
you look up at him. "'course not. it's just for fun"
he lets out a small grunt as a okay.
silence.
"manchild huh?", he mumbles. you can't figure out his tone.
you sit up to look at him. "good song, right?"
he doesn't give you an answer, just a look. that look was his answer.
"what even is it about that song... 'did you just say you're finished didn't know we started'", he repeats mockingly. he takes a sip of his beer. not looking at you, but the tv.
you raise an eyebrow. "that's the part you remember huh?", you tease with a chuckle.
he shoots you a glare. you swing your one leg over that you're now straddling him. he exhales.
"it's just a fun song. i obviously can't relate to it with you.", you say playfully, while playing with his shirt.
he knows.
"sorry, i can't just listen to linda ronstadt, old man", you tease with a chuckle. he raises an eyebrow, amused.
"old man huh", he takes a sip of his beer.
"yea. super old. and grumpy."
"grumpy too hmh", a small twitch in the corner of his lip. suddenly, he takes a long sip of his beer, finishing it, before suddenly shifting, pushing you off his lap onto the couch and leaning over you.
you giggle. "joel, what are you doin'" as his hands run up the sides of your body. "trying to shut you up so i can watch my game", he whispers and before you can backtalk, he captures your lips in a demanding kiss.
you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. his tounge not demanding, but getting his entrance into your mouth. and you're happily complying.
his lips leave yours swollen, grabbing your chin and pulling it to the side to get better access to your neck, while he takes a glance at the tv. you roll your eyes, thought he didn't see. "don't roll your eyes at me baby", he grumbles while taking in your smell of your shirt, before his one hand grabs your breast, teasing your nipple with his thumb over the fabric.
you gasp.
he sits up a bit to pull down pajama shorts. as he was just about to say to lift up your ass, you already do.
"atta' girl"
...
...
two words you think to yourself.
wet. soaking wet.
you can't even count to three and he's already taking a long stroke with his tongue, from down to up.
you whimper.
he takes two more, before diving in completely. like a starved man. your back arches in response. he softly sucks at your clit, before he literally fucks you with his tongue. you bite your lower lip.
his nose brushing against your clit occasionally, making you gasp. the sounds of the tv blurring together in the background.
"don't bite that lip, i wanna hear you", he warns.
he backs up a bit, grabbing your thighs and pushing your knees up to your chest, before going at it again.
"joel-- fuck", you just yelp. snapping your head up, before letting it fall back down again, as you feel his tongue circling around again.
he replaces his tongue with two fingers, sliding them in slowly.
"you like that huh"
he slides them in fully. curls them just how you like, you moan.
"yea you do", he observes.
"move- please- faster", are all the words that just blabber right out of your mind, as you try to hold up your knees.
god, you were so vulnearble to him.
he doesn't say, he just does. his fingers start to pump in and out of you, moving always in the right way and at the right spot. while you were a moaning mess, he took a glance at his game, cursing under his breath as he sees his team was losing.
"you're not exactly giving me good luck here, darlin'", he remarks.
"it's not my fault your team is bad-", you feel a sharp slap on the side of your ass. "ouch--", you whine, since it caught you off guard, but you love it.
"stop the backtalk, darlin'", he pushes your knees down again, slides between your legs and kisses you softly. you taste the mix of him, beer, and you. he continues pumping his fingers in you, but as he feels how they got squeezed around him, showing you got closer, he pulls out.
you let out a frustrated whine.
"save the whining. turn on around. on all fours.", he demands. with so simple and short words.
no man of words, but of actions.
you turn around, while you were nearly dripping by hearing his belt opening. you get on all fours, breathless.
"good girl", he remarks quietly.
heavens.
he positions himself behind you, rubbing his hard tip at your wet entrance. teasing. slowly.
"please", you manage to whimper out, while trying to just breath.
he doesn't answer. he rubs his tip, circling around your clit.
"joel-", you whine. a quiet and helpless warning perhaps.
still no answer. he keeps rubbing. you try to hold it together. bite your lower lip
"joel- i'm gonna- please- just-- put it i-", you tense up, then feel the wave of the first denied pleasure run through your body.
you came.
"did you just say you're finished? didn't know we started", he just says with a smirk.
you think. realize. blush embarrassed.
fucking asshole.
"you fucking ba-", he slams into you. you yelp, he gasps.
"save it, darlin'", he mumbles amused, trying to hold back a small chuckle. "gotta be my lucky charm now'", he takes a glance at the tv.
he begins to first slowly moving inside of you, his hands resting on your hips. you adjusting to his size. as you try to move yourself a bit, signaling him to go faster, he does.
"so beautiful..", he whispers under his breath as he reaches over a, pulling your hair back a bit. arching your back, getting you in that position to hit-
you moan loudly, rolling your eyes back.
that spot.
"please-- right there- joel", you whimper. helpless, desperate, needy.
he pulls out slightly, before pushing in roughly again. hitting that exact spot again and again.
"joel-", you tried to say you're close again, but.
"i know baby... i know", he groans softly, biting his lower lip. the sound of skin clapping together and soft wet sounds fill the room, with the sounds of the tv in the background.
you felt your heartbeat in your head. he feels you squeezing around him.
"come on, darlin'", he demands. and you do. with one last thrust, butterflies explode in your lower stomach as you moan.
with a louder groan, he comes too, filling you up good. you bite your lip. you both catch your breath.
he pulls out slowly, falling back into the couch softly, as you snuggle up next to him, still catching your breath.
he looks at the tv.
"you're my lucky charm after all.", he smirks slightly. his team won.
you just roll your eyes. snuggling up to his chest as he presses a kiss on your forehead, whispering jokingly;
"manchild..."
Writteninthebindsâ Masterlist đ
Finally, finally, a Masterlist of everything l've written so far. I relish in every interaction with you guys. Every like, comment, repost. I cry laughing at some of your reactions. Thank you so so much for everything. I'll keep updating this as I go. đŤśđź
Joel Miller
A Great Man
"What do you mean I can't kiss the wrinkles by his eyes and the scar on his nose? I can't trace the bumpy curve of it in the moonlight, where it's been broken so many times before?"
Touched Starved 18+
"What if touched starved Joel turns into a massive, pussy drunk and driven WHORE because of you?"
Fast in Dirty 18+
Joel's gotta crush on the girl that works nights at the CVS. He swears it's nothin, that he's just a guy lookin' out for a nice girl in the rougher part of town. He's lying.
Tommy Miller
Young Tommy Miller
"I think we can all agree that young Tommy Miller was a whore. Beautiful, cocky, too smug for his own good."
What We Can't Have Pt. 1
"Tommy has never wanted more, and you know you can't do just one night with Tommy Miller."
Joel & Tommy Miller
Bulky Miller Boys
"The Miller brothers are better bulky and big, and I will die on this hill."
Cowboy Pillows 18+
"The Miller brothers are both tits kinda guys."
Make Me Choose? Pt. 1
"What I can't figure out is which one it is. Joel or Tommy?"
There's a heavy beat of silence that follows. A slow filthy grin splits across your face, eyes sparking with something dirty. Your next words land heavy.
"You think they'd make me choose?"
Make Me Choose? Pt. 2 18+
"Bare legs stretched wide and draped over the outside of Joel's thick thighs. Your back sits flushed with his chest.You've never felt anything like this. The way he holds you. It's not rough. Hands built from years of hard work, a lifetime of violence, they caress you, sweep along your ribs and belly with a soft reverence."
*throws this at you and runs away* its hard to sit here and be close to you and not kiss you for clark kent PLEASE IM BEGGING-
broken down and hungry for your love
a/n: this has ruined me. has me yearning in ways that i never thought humanly possible. and yes the title is absolutely from a jeff buckley song, because this is all i could listen to as i wrote this. just utter fluff and romance for this man. it's what he deserves. i kept it more fluffy than smutty just cause he's such a perfect man for pure fucking romance. i hope you enjoy babes!
summary: late at night you find yourself sitting across from clark kent. a friend, a colleague, and much to your detriment the man you're in love with. OR a conversation leads to kissing him on his couch until oxygen becomes secondary.
word count: 2.1k+
pairing: clark kent x reader
warnings: semi-explicit so minors DNI, tension, romance, fluff, friends to lovers trope, clark being the obvious one, reader being stubborn, mutual pining, making out on his couch, kissing, he begs for it cause i say so.

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delicacy
Joel Miller x f!reader
tags: pussy eating, pussy worship, pussy fingering, pussy pronouns, pussy everything; 650 words read and leave kudos on ao3
âFuck, I missed eating pussy.â He was growling in you, the eyes half closed like he wanted to fully give into the taste, but also couldnât miss a moment of your body trembling under him. The sweat slicked skin of your belly rising and falling erratically as he sucked on your clit, and teased the slick bud with the tip of his tongue.
one dayđ¤