#but then goes to extreme lengths just to not sweat/sweat as much

[nakahras]

᯽ wet dreamz • osamu dazai

synopsis • you’ve been having some dubious dreams about one (1) osamu dazai and you let it slip.

warnings • swearing, lucid dreaming, fem!reader, ņsfw, dazai (he needs his own warning, yes), nickname “bella” is used, hair pulling, some light hand stuff/teasing, oral (f -> m), no set dynamic (both parties switch), masturbation (f), clothed sex, edging, finger sucking, slight choking, creampie, overstimulation, pussy drunk dazai, this is a long one >.<, also mildly unedited

wc • 6.8k

a/n • ahahahaha i don’t know

his hands are all over you, all at once, but it’s still not enough. you can’t pinpoint why because in all honesty it should be borderline overwhelming. but it’s not.

maybe you’re just greedy. you’ve been waiting for this for so long that you’ve been dreaming about it. dreaming? something washes over you and, once again, you can’t place it. you shake it off internally. how could you pay anything much attention when what you should be paying attention to is the man underneath you pawing at your skin.

he’s demanding all of your attention and you’ll gladly give it to him. you don’t remember how you got here, or how you got his shirt off but you dip down and kiss his exposed and surprisingly sun kissed skin. everything is blurry, the feeling of his skin under your lips, the image of him shirtless underneath you and the sensation of his nimble fingers kneading at your ass. 

before you can overthink it, he gets impatient and guides your hips to grind down on his hardened crotch. your mind is the next thing to become blurry. you straighten up and throw your head back as the sensation of the friction overtakes your senses. you want more, need more.

as if the brunette could read your mind, he’s tugging at your panties. it’s only then that you realize, he’s pantless as well. things felt like they were going too fast and also too slow all at once. you sit yourself back down on his length and continue to grind down on him.

your head is swimming and distantly you hear ringing in your ears. you ignore it though, the sounds of his moans drowning out any other noise. his grip on your bottom tightens and he lifts your hips up expertly aligning himself with your entrance.

he’s about to sit you back down and stretch you out but the ringing gets louder and everything goes white.

᯽•᯽

you woke this morning in a pool of your own sweat — thighs rubbing together desperately seeking out the same sensations you experienced in your dream. 

now you’re sitting at your desk feeling extremely embarrassed and, frankly, frustrated that you had yet another wet dream about your coworker, dazai osamu. 

you let out a huff while typing up a report on yesterday’s case. of all people in this office it just had to be the most insufferable of them all. why did he have to be so gorgeous? why couldn’t you think the same of kunikida? hell, even ranpo would have been a better choice than dazai. you think your subconscious is cruel. laughing at you, making fun of you by giving you wet dreams. you felt like a fucking teenager. hell, you don’t think you even had wet dreams when you were an adolescent going through puberty. how utterly embarrassing.

you let out yet another exasperated sigh, brows furrowed and fingers typing furiously. you were making a spectacle and your deskmates had long since noticed your sour mood. atsushi and kunikida were the smart ones, they simply let you be, figuring if you wanted to talk about it you would bring it up. 

dazai, however, is nosey. his natural curiosity always getting the better of him. he builds a simple paper airplane and shoots it through the air. it lands right on your keyboard and your aggressive typing finally ceases. you stare at the airplane as if you’ve never seen one in your entire life. you refuse to look up, fearing that if you look at dazai you’ll be reminded of what your subconscious thinks of him. you don’t think you can handle that quite yet.

dazai watches, slightly perturbed, as you seem to try to make his little creation spontaneously combust. no matter how unsettling, dazai still isn’t deterred. atsushi shoots him a warning look, as if to say this wasn’t a good idea. the brunette blatantly ignores the boy and wheels himself over to your part of the desk, which was a show in itself since you’re on the complete opposite side of where he was sat. that means dazai has to push himself past either atsushi or kunikida. of course, him being the menace that he is, dazai chooses the harder path of going around kunikida.

you don’t see it because you’re still having a staring contest with your little gift but kunikida’s eye twitches as dazai swivels past him. the blonde was going to take the high road though. he was going to let it slide since you seemed to need the distraction. but dazai was clumsy and clipped his wheels on the ones of his partner’s chair. kunikida’s eye twitches and he can’t help himself.

”dazai…” it’s a simple warning. one that the brown eyed detective promptly ignores.

dazai makes it to you without another hitch and gingerly reaches over to replace the airplane with a paper rose.

you blink. stare some more. then finally look up. “dazai, what the fuck?” 

“oh c’mon, bella. you’ve been in a mood all day. i thought a rose would cheer you up enough to tell me what’s got you in such a sulky mood.” dazai pouts at you and it takes everything in you to look away for your sanity.

you can feel your cheeks heating up by just the small interaction. if these dreams persist, you’re not sure you can keep your composure. you were barely hanging on by a thread as it was. you distantly think maybe it’s your subconscious telling you that you need to get laid. you almost scoff at the thought.

yes. it has been some time since you last slept with someone, but there is no way that was causing the dreams. if that was the case you would be having dreams about more than just dazai. he was simply plaguing your mind and you think you might go insane if this kept going on. 

so instead of dealing with it like a sane person, because you aren’t right now, you decide to take it out on the very man that has been haunting your mind. “i’m trying to get my work done and i’m certainly not in the mood. go bother atsushi if you’re bored, dazai.”

you hear a small complaint come from across the desk and look up to see atsushi giving you an accusatory expression. you immediately feel guilty for throwing him under the bus and finally relax for the first time all day. you toss the weretiger an apologetic smile then whip around to glare at dazai for a moment.

”i changed my mind. you’re buying me lunch at the cafe. let’s go.” you don’t give dazai any time to answer. you save your work, shut your laptop and promptly stand up and walk off. you weren’t going to give dazai any room to argue. you figured if he didn’t follow then he wasn’t that curious and you got to enjoy a break in silence.

unfortunately you hear dance-like footsteps coming from behind you, indicating that dazai was, in fact, following. you both step into the elevator and about halfway down dazai finally opens his mouth.

”so, what’s got a beautiful woman such as yourself in such a mood today?” his smile is lazy and eyes dull.

you hate this. you hate when he acts like this. you do genuinely like dazai, just not this version of him. the shut off version, the one that puts on a facade and plays with people for fun. you don’t have much time to think about it though. the elevator jolts to a sudden stop and dings, indicating that you’ve made it to the ground floor. you scurry out of the small space and make your way to the cafe. 

when you enter your mood instantly sours seeing that it wasn’t lucy in today, but rather the waitress dazai is always making eyes at and wistfully requesting her to perform a double suicide with him. you muster up a smile to offer the owner and wave at him before taking your seat at one of the booths. dazai plops himself on the other side across from you.

the waitress comes over and you brace yourself for the encounter that’s about to transpire. dazai watches you closely, head tilting to the side curiously. 

“welcome, detectives, what can i get you started with today?” her smile is sweet and you feel bad for your previous annoyance. it’s not her fault dazai doesn’t understand the art of subtlety. 

dazai speaks up before you can get a chance to. “go on, bella, you order whatever you want.” dazai addresses his attention to the waitress next. “everything will be going on my tab, miss waitress.”

”how very generous of you, mr. dazai. i assume you finally invested in that life insurance policy i recommended?” her smile is sweet but her words are clipped and condescending. you let out a little snort as dazai starts to sweat a little. 

before dazai can quip back, you order. “i’ll take an iced latte and the sandwich of the day, please.”

“of course miss. what about you, mr. dazai?”

dazai almost shrinks at her faux warm demeanor. “i’ll just take a cup of coffee.” 

you raise your brow at him disapprovingly and before the waitress can scurry off you quickly get out, “can you make sure my sandwich is cut in half?”

she smiles at you genuinely and nods her head. after she walks off you catch dazai staring at you once again. you know he’s about to speak again and you dread whatever it is that’s going to fall from those surprisingly full lips of his. 

“so, are you going to tell me what’s gotten your panties in a twist all day?”

nice.

how eloquent of him. 

you scowl at him and hiss out, “could you not refer to it as that?”

”sorry, bella. would you rather i ask why you’ve been so sour all day in a different way?” dazai grins at you clearly pleased at getting a rise out of you. 

you huff and roll your eyes. “would you believe me if i told you it’s because i had a dream of you?”

”oh? did you now? what was the dream about? you must regale me with all of the details.” dazai sets his elbows on the table in between the two of you. his fingers intertwine and he rests his head atop his hands. 

it’s almost eerie, the way he’s looking at you but you can’t quite place why. you wince internally realizing your mistake. how the hell are you supposed to tell dazai that you fantasized about— no. you didn’t fantasize, it was a dream. a creation of your subconscious. not of your control. you want to shrivel up and die. 

how the hell are you supposed to explain that to dazai?

you don’t. it’s the only sane reasoning you can come up with. but now you have to scramble to come up with something to dazai. the longer you just blankly stare at him the more suspicious he’s going to get. you can see it in the way his eyes become hooded and his right brow shifts up.

dazai perks up a bit and, oh god, here it comes. the realization you’ve been dreading. “don’t tell me you dreamt about me in that way.” he hums dramatically. “what a naughty girl, thinking about your colleague in such a way~”

you involuntary freeze. sure you knew this was coming but there is no way he saw through you that easily. he came to that conclusion so fast and you know for a fact you aren’t an easy person to read unless you want someone to. he couldn’t have just picked up on your thoughts like that. no, you have to remind yourself this is dazai osamu. he could have done exactly that. regardless, you refuse to admit it to yourself, let alone dazai.

“absolutely n-“ you’re cut off by the waitress dropping off your drinks and the sandwich. 

clearly she understood what you meant by your earlier request because she brings you an extra plate. you thank her one more time before she walks off. placing the slightly bigger half of the sandwich on the extra plate and scooting it towards dazai.

“eat.” he looks at you curiously but obliges when you give him an expectant glare.

you know he won’t drop the previous subject but luckily for you he’s too busy with eating to make much conversation. you both enjoy your respective halves of the delicious sandwich in silence. it was peaceful, a stark contrast to what usually transpired when you’re with dazai. you observe him quietly, subtly, as you chew on the last bite of your food.

he’s picking at the bread after only two bites. his coffee was finished within the first few minutes of it being set in front of him. a clear avoidance. keeping himself busy with sipping on his coffee so he wouldn’t have to eat. the few bites were to appease you. unfortunately for him you know all of those tricks, maybe a little too well.

you cross your arms over your chest and think about this tactically, you know if you scold him outright he’ll brush it off easily. you have to think like him for a moment. what would he do if your positions were switched.

playing dumb. “you know, it’s not very polite to let a lady eat more than you…” 

you pout and look away from him, trying to seem embarrassed. you’re not sure if it’s worked. you’re honestly too nervous to look. you think it must look real because you’re now actually embarrassed by the probably god awful acting you just displayed.

but then you hear distinct chewing and peak over to something that pleasantly surprises you. he’s taken another two bites, significantly larger than the last two, because he’s almost finished with the sandwich by the time you fully turn to look at him. 

for the first time all day you finally crack a smile at him and let out a fit of giggles. dazai almost chokes on the sandwich from the sound alone. it’s a sound he’ll never get used to nor will he ever get tired of it. you’re too busy trying to calm your giggles to notice dazai’s internal struggle as he finishes off his own food all the while staring at you in amazement.

you take a few calming breaths and look at him, still all smiles. dazai resists the urge to clutch his chest, something in it stirs — an extremely alarming and foreign sensation for him. dazais nerves are suddenly on fire. he suddenly recalls what you said earlier, how you dreamt about him. he knows you planned on denying his earlier implications but the way you paused makes him think you were having those types of dreams about him. 

dazai’s fingers twitch at his sides. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think of you like that. hell, he’d probably have the same types of dreams if he actually dreamt. dazai’s breathing shallows and he need to get away from you. his self control thinning with each passing second he thinks about you in the most intimate of ways. 

he knows it’s wrong. at least in your case you can’t control it. but here his is, shamelessly fantasizing about you like you aren’t sat right in front of him. dazai disgusts himself. he wants to bash his head in, his thoughts swimming, making it hard for him to focus. vision blurring and ears rushing like there’s water stuck in them.

dazai abruptly stands up and announces, “we should get back to work. kunikida will get on us if we take any longer.”

you’re so perplexed because when has dazai ever cared about what kunikida thinks about? then you notice it, the unmistakable bulge straining against the crotch of his pants. you swear you didn’t mean to look, it was just currently at eye level. you’re suddenly given an opportunity, something you need to make a decision on and quickly. 

as calmly as you can, you slide out of the booth and wave to the owner and waitress before grasping onto dazai’s hand and dragging the brunette away with you. dazai is far too dazed to protest at how assertive you’re being. you lead the way to the elevator and the ride there is painstakingly quiet and slow. the second the contraption dings and the doors begin to open you’re slipping through with dazai still in tow.

the lanky man is thoroughly confused when, instead of going back to the office, you shove the two of you in the supply closet. he wants to ask but something tells him he doesn’t need to. your body language gives way that you’re going to explain yourself.

thank god there’s a lock on the inside of this room. you really did not want to relocate to the bathroom for this. dazai is still dazed, unsure of what’s happening, just letting you toss him around like a rag doll. everything is still on fire making him feel detached from his body. the sensation is almost numbing.

“you know what’s so frustrating?” your breathing is just as shallow as his is now. the ride on the elevator working you up far more than it should have. 

although he’s detached, your voice anchors him. he looks down at your flushed face and he almost whimpers at the sight. he croaks out, “what is?”

“you. you’re so frustrating. your stupid act, your stupid need to play dumb, your stupid big brown eyes, your stupidly long fingers, your stupidly handsome face and your stupidly careless actions. y’know, you’ve had a hard on since you stood up at the cafe. practically shoved it in my face.” you have him trapped, his back is hitting the end of some shelves.

you don’t touch him yet. you look up at him and gauge his reaction. he seems to be battling with what he should say and you could laugh in triumph. you’ve never seen someone render the dazai osamu speechless, but you just did it with a few suggestive sentences. 

dazai takes a shuddered breath collecting his wits before grinning down at you after fully processing your words. “my apologies, bella. that wasn’t my intention, but what is yours? this is quite the damning position you have me in.”

your confidence falters but you quickly recover and click your tongue. “it would be rude of me to not help you calm down… especially if i was the cause.” 

you look away, embarrassed by your own proposition. dazai takes a moment. he knows what you’re implying, he’s sure of it, but he’s having a hard time wrapping his head around it. after what feels like an eternity— it’s not, you’re just being dramatic— it finally clicks in dazai’s head. you’re being serious, if the look on your face is any indication. 

the detective hums and reaches out. his hand cups your face and glides up into your hair, fingers tangling with the strands and tugging just a little too harshly to be considered gentle. he was needy, you could see it in the endless sea of honey that are his irises. something was stirring. 

“how am i supposed to say no to that? i’m a weak man, unable to deny a beautiful woman when she makes such an enticing offer.”

you don’t have time to bite back with a witty comment because his lips are quite literally crashing into yours. the second his chapped lips make contact with your own every single touch and action from him comes from a place of desperation. although skilled, his actions are sloppy and almost rushed. his free hand grips your waist and draws you even closer. 

your hands land on his chest to brace and balance yourself. you try to catch your breath but dazai is proving that difficult with how his tongue dances along your own. his actions steal your breath away from you and make your lungs burn, screaming for relief and air. 

the lack of air and the sensation of dazai’s tongue tangling with your own dizzies your head. you can’t get a proper thought out. instinctively your mouth is moving with his, tongue smoothing over his, and hands fisting at the cloth on his chest but you couldn’t move out of your own volition. 

dazai pulls your head back by once again tugging at your hair. you let out an involuntary whimper, making sure to stay quiet as you gasp for air. dazai dips his head down and speaks in between littering kisses on your neck.

“i thought you were going to help me calm down, bella. so far i’m doing all the work and now i’m far more worked up than i was in the cafe.” 

his words bring you crashing down to reality and you scowl. of course he would still tease you. he loves getting a rise out of you. 

you don’t entertain him, though. instead your hand travels down his torso and starts tugging at his shirt. you pout at him mockingly. “i didn’t realize some mild kissing would work you up so much. ‘didn’t realize you were so sensitive -- so needy.” 

dazai wants to quip back at you but as you’re talking you’re undoing his pants and your last word is emphasized by you shoving your hand down his pants. your hand almost falters when you realize he’s not wearing anything underneath. instead, though, you take your index finger and teasingly run it along his length. it feels endless, he’s long, you realize. you briefly wonder just how far, how deep, he could reach inside of you. 

dazai shudders at the feather like touches to where he needs attention the most right now. you lean up and with your free hand you tug on dazais collar to bring him down to your level. your breath fans over his ear and, god, he shudders again. 

you hum. “‘s this where you need attention right now?”

“yes.” dazai breathes out the word. clearly affected by the way your finger is twirling around the leaking tip of his cock.

you maintain eye contact with dazai as you sink to your knees. the implication alone has dazai’s nerves coiling tighter. he brings his hand up to cover his face, head falling back as he groans. his breathing becomes more erratic as you withdrawal your hand, he barely contain a whimper from falling past his lips at the loss of contact. but you make quick work of shocking his pants halfway down his thighs and finally freeing his strained length.

your mouth begins to salivate involuntarily. his cock is surprisingly pretty and just as you suspected — his length is impressive, definitely above average. the leaking tip is flushed pink and his veins are visibly throbbing. you want nothing more than to choke on it but first, you think you need to tease him some more.

you rest your cheek on his trembling thigh and stare up at him innocently. “osamu.” he could cum, right then and there with the way you say his given name.

dazai looks down at you. the sight in front of him bringing him embarrassingly closer to release. all dazai can muster is a hum of acknowledgment and even that sounds a little pained.

you smile at his obvious desperation. “if i help you out here you need to follow a couple rules. be quiet and no touching. think you can do that for me?”

dazai tries so hard to pay attention to your words but barely registers them. did you say no touching? no touching what? and him being quiet? a bold request of him.

you seem pleased with how quick he is to nod at you in obedience. you waste no time, ready to indulge both of your fantasies. you lick a long stripe along the vein on the underside of his cock. dazai is twitching at the one action alone. how embarrassing of him — you both have the same thought. 

the brunette’s fingers itch to touch you but his mind is coherent enough to remember your stipulations. no touching. how cruel of you. to resist that temptation when you’re making him feel this good is just downright wicked.

you don’t miss the way his fists clench in a desperate attempt to keep his word. how could you not reward him for that? listening to you like such a good and obedient puppy. your tongue darts out to swirl around his flushed tip. the taste of his precum floods your tastebuds and you’re instantly hooked like an addict to their drug of choice. dazai’s taste was your new vice. 

your lips wrap around his head and you hollow your cheeks. dazai is panting. his head spinning from the pleasure at just the slightest of touches from you. his head hangs back and he brings his fist to his mouth and bites down. he wants to groan, wants to whimper, wants to moan your name. but you’ve denied him that privilege and he has a feeling that you would be merciless if he gave in and disregarded your requests. 

you take more of him with each bob of your head and with each stroke of your tongue you unravel the tight coil that had formed in dazai’s stomach. he was already so close. what a sight it would be to watch you choke over him as he spills everything he has directly down your throat. the thought almost undoes him. he bites down on his fist harder and he thinks he may have broken skin.

you observe dazai and it’s all so hot. his pants, his facial expressions, the way sweat is starting to form on his face and cause his hair to stick to it. you can feel yourself getting worked and you’re impatient. thank god the weather permitted you to wear a pencil skirt instead of the usual slack you usually wear. you use your free hand to bunch up your skirt at your waist. the actions makes your movements on dazai’s cock a little sloppy. he hadn’t noticed yet but his brows furrow as if he’s starting to. you try to fix your pace but it’s too late. he is already picking up his head and peering down at you. 

you were trying to touch yourself. if his head wasn’t already spinning this is what would be what sent him into a spiral. you had the audacity to call him needy but then in turn do something like this. it was unfair. 

Dazai can’t help himself. “bella, are you trying to touch yourself?” it comes out as a teasing whisper. you don’t miss the amusement in his voice. 

you suppose you asked him to stay quiet, not to stay silent.

still, your brows furrow and you ever so slightly graze your teeth against his cock. the sensation is something dazai sickeningly loves. his eyes are rolling back into his head and he let’s out a short moan. it’s quiet and you’re quite annoyed that he’s found a loophole. 

you can’t deny that his noises aren’t doing something for you, though. you’re even more desperate than before to slip out of your panties. you maneuver around and manage to shimmy them off. it’s almost embarrassing how wet the crotch of them are. you try to care but you just can bring yourself to do so when dazai’s hips begin to thrust and force the small bit of his length you’ve been unable to touch down your throat. 

you gag around him and dazai’s grasping at the shelves behind him for leverage. you spread your legs the best you can, being on your knees like this and sneak your hand up your thigh. you can feel the heat radiating off of you. you run a finger through your slick and moan around dazai when the digit brushes your clit.

“fuck, fuck, fuck ‘s so good, bella. your mouth ‘s so perfect for me.” his voice is hushed and breathy.

you’re not even listening to his babble as your nose continues to brush against his pelvis every time your sucking him back into your mouth. gagging, choking, on his cock. your eyes are watery, tears spilling from that and the sensation coming from below your pelvis. your finger makes expert work of your clit.

it’s too much.

you can’t breath right, dazai can’t think right, you gag with every thrust, dazai can’t control his stuttering hips, your one hand is playing with yourself and the other reaches up to cup dazai’s balls. 

it’s not only too much for you, it’s too much for dazai. the added sensation makes nerve, every cell, every fiber that makes up dazai ignite. he was about to cum, he needed to warn you. he needed to open his mouth and say something but it just flapped, no noise was coming out.

you bob your head back and peer up at dazai, his erratic breathing becoming suspiciously loud. the look on his face is absolutely breathtaking — it’s flushed, almost beet red, tears of his own trickle down his cheeks in droplets. he looked like a fallen angel, beautiful and dangerous all at the same time. 

you moan at the sight. fingers traveling down to your entrance and slowly pushing through. you suck in a breath and fold your lips over your teeth to keep yourself from grazing his length with them. the initial stretch feels divine but your fingers themselves aren’t enough. you need dazai’s twitching cock inside your cunt.

you note that dazais cock is throbbing painfully and starts to twitch quite a lot.

oh, you realize, he’s going to cum. 

you smirk deviously. you push your mouth down on dazai until his tip is hitting the back of your throat. with your eyes still on him you hollow your cheeks and swallow. dazai almost yelps at the added stimulation. his head snaps up and finally his attention is on you.

“shit.” he hisses, this time a little louder, so you glare up at him. “sorry- sorry but- fuck- gonna cum, please, ‘m so close.”

the second those words leave his mouth you’re backing up and removing your fingers from yourself. dazai let’s out a mangled noise, something between a sob and laugh. it was almost unnerving but the blissed out look on dazai’s face tells you he’s enjoying this game far more than the average person.

you watch his chest heave, his breathing heavy. his face is as red as a blooming rose. you think it’s a sort of beautiful sight to see. dazai never gets flustered, so seeing him like this, you can’t help but to feel special. 

you stand up as you pout at him, mock empathy written all over your face. “sorry, did you wanna cum? don’t think i can have that quite yet. not when you haven’t even fucked me. right, osamu?”

there it is again, the sound of his given name falling from your lips. something in dazai snaps. the thread of his sanity that you’d been stretching thin ever since the cafe finally tore in two. his eyes darken dangerously and you only have a moment to realize the shift before he’s picking you up by your thighs and wrapping them around his thin waist. you can feel his stiff cock lightly bouncing against your ass as he flips you around and pins you against the shelves.

his head dips down and he lips scant across the skin of your neck. he’s careful to only leave feather light touches. scraping the rough skin of his mouth on one of your most sensitive areas sends a shock of electricity through your body. you so badly want to tug at his hair but you’re coherent enough to realize your fingers are still coated in your own slick. 

you smile slyly at the detective as he peers at you through his ridiculously long lashes. you grab his chin delicately and bring your soiled fingers to his lips. his eyes light up in immediate realization. he wordlessly opens his mouth, tongue lolling out a bit as he happily waits for his treat like a puppy, you can practically see his tail wagging. you let out a breathless laugh, because you think you may be screwed. dazai osamu has you wrapped around his pretty and lithe fingers and you think he already knew that. 

you think about making him beg for it but you’re so momentarily mesmerized by the brunette that you find yourself leaning in and gently interesting the digits into his mouth. dazai is quick to appreciate your offering. his lips encase your fingers and his tongue makes quick work of lapping up and savoring your taste.

dazai’s hip involuntarily rut into yours and you can’t help yourself. all the pent up frustration you’ve felt since the dreams started finally gets to your head. you’re desperate to feel him inside of you. a sensation you were always denied of, waking up before actually getting fucked by the very man holding you each time. you reach down to guide his cock then expertly shift your hips and he becomes perfectly aligned with your entrance. dazai is sucking on your fingers but his actions become sloppy as he watches what you’re doing with intense concentration.

you waste no time sinking yourself down on his length, he’s already well coated in your slick and eases into you. you bite on your lip to avoid making any obscene noises but dazai snaps you into reality when he carelessly moans loudly. you panic and shove your fingers further into his mouth. he hums appreciatively and if his hips rocking into yours didn’t feel so good you’d hop off his cock right then and there and leave him blue balled. you could bring yourself to do that though, not when you’ve been waiting for this for so long.

you settle for hissing out, “shut the fuck up, dazai.” 

dazai gives you a shit eating grin as he snakes an arm under your ass and squeezes before slowly shifting his hips away from yours, leaving you virtually empty, before sliding himself back into you at the same painstakingly slow pace. he repeats the slowed movements a few times before you’re slipping your fingers out of his mouth and bracing yourself on his shoulders. you try to move your hips on your own but dazai is quick to catch you.

“ah, ah, bella. can’t have you doing whatever you want right now. unless you want me to get louder, you’ll let me set the pace.” his voice is slightly strained and hushed, but despite his seriousness, you can hear the tiniest bit of teasing mixed in.

you let out a whine but resign to him setting the pace. in the meantime your fingers find their way to his hair and tug. dazais hips stutter, showing you that he is far too needy to take full control. taking full advantage of just how distracted he is, you grind your hips into the detective’s with each thrust and dip your head to leave sloppy wet kisses along his jaw and down his neck.

“shit, you’ve been so wound tight all the time lately that even your perfect cunt has a vice grip on me. it’s so perfect, feels so good.” you can tell how hard dazai is trying to be quiet and you note that you should reward him for that later.

it doesn’t take long for his pace to increase, his rapid movements making the shelves behind you rock and creak. dazai still seems displeased with the pace, his brows knitting together in concentration. you catch his eyes flitting to your neck and lingering there. 

you’ve always worn your tie loose, the first couple buttons if your dress shirt undone. it drives dazai mad. your neck and cleavage are always on display in the most tasteful way. he wants nothing more than to run his hand over your velvety soft skin and wrap his nimble fingers around your neck. now that he has the chance to do so, he can’t pass up the opportunity.

your grip in his hair tightens as he shifts you, keeping you up with one arm as he keeps his pace. you have no room to question him when the new positioning has his cock nudging your sweet spot so deliciously. your head becomes dizzy and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. 

dazai’s hand travels up your body, palm flush with your skin so he can feel every bump and curve. he starts at your upper abdomen and slithers it up. he completely ignores your breasts which you vaguely think was his goal. you have no time to act surprise over it bc his hand is gently wrapping around your neck. he wants to squeeze, fingers twitching, but he resigns to a light grip to simply test the waters. 

your response is something he wasn’t expecting. your eyes roll back and you let out a hushed whimper. that’s when he realizes, he wants to do this forever. he wants to fuck you senseless so he can see that beautiful expression on your face forever. so he can feel you tightly wrapped around him forever. dazai wants you forever. the fleeting thought scares him just a little but he has no time to dwell on it because the coil in his stomach is unraveling once again.

“dazai-“ your interrupted by him bringing you in for a sloppy kiss. you think the noises from the kiss alone are far more obscene than the noises from him bullying his cock into you, which is a hard feat considering those are, by no means, quiet or pure. 

when the brunette detaches himself he breathes out. “osamu- shit- ‘s osamu…”

“osamu. ‘m gonna cum. so close- please.” you let out a quiet sob as you babble.

dazai has no time to respond. it’s embarrassing, the way he can’t even give you any other warning but him shoving his face in your shoulder, grip tightening around your throat ever so slightly. the whimper he lets out tells you everything you need to know before he starts spilling his cum inside of you.

the throbbing of his cock and sensation of him filling you up has your walls contracting and you’re diving off the deep end yourself. you bite your lip hard. desperate trying to keep yourself from making more noise than the whines sticking in your throat. your vision blurs and and hearing goes muffled as your senses become overwhelmed by your high.

dazai is still rutting his hips into you, guiding you through your orgasm despite his twitches and obvious overstimulation. when you come back to your senses, dazai is whimpering a lot louder than previously. his grip on your neck is lost as he leaves soothing strokes on your side. you tug at his hair to lift his head so you can look at him.

his face is somehow even more flushed than earlier, you’re almost concerned. the look in his eyes though makes something stir inside of you. his glazed over and hooded eyes, completely unfocused. his lips parted as he’s letting out short and shuddered puffs of air. dazai has lost all senses but the feeling of him inside of you. 

“osamu. hey- look at me. you need to calm-“ you his when his rutting becomes more intense, thrusts becoming less shallow but hips and cock still twitching wildly, you have to stop him otherwise you’ll both lose yourselves in this supply closet and you can’t afford to do that when everyone is still in the office next door. “osamu we need to get back.”

dazai seems to have regained some of his consciousness. “again.”

you let out a breathless laugh, eyes glimmering in genuine amusement and adoration. “not right now. later. we need to get back. i have a case i need to finish working on.”

dazai finally fully comes back to you and he lightens up at the promise of later. that means this isn’t just a one time thing. something in that back of his head always told him if he crossed that line with you, things wouldn’t be the same, he’d only have one shot. but your words are such a relief he could cry. he can’t help himself, he has to clarify.

“later? after work and… again anytime after that?” his eyes are pleading and hopeful and you can’t help but melt under his soft gaze.

you nod and open your mouth to affirm his statement but you're rudely interrupted by a loud rapping at the closet door. “you two better have not done any of that by my emergency snack stash and you better clean up after yourselves. hurry up, i can't keep stalling and kunikida needs staples.”

ranpo’s voice rings throughout the room. you groan in embarrassment and bury yourself into his chest. dazai lets out a gleeful laugh still dizzyingly drunk on the idea of your promise.

#dazai x reader #dazai smut #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai x you #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x you #dazai x fem!reader #bsd x fem!reader #bungo stray dogs x fem!reader #bsd dazai #᯽. banners/dividers made by @/cafekitsune #᯽. éli originals

[drewsbuzzcut]

That’s That Me, Espresso

Mat Barzal x model!fem!reader

A visceral in doses fic

Warnings: alcohol consumption, smut and mentions exhibitionism🤭 (bolded italics are flashbacks)

Takes place this summer

Mat has the perfect view from his floating in the pool. You’re on the chaise lounge, soaking up the vibrant sun rays. Your tortoise shell sunglasses sit perfectly on the bridge of your nose and you’re donned in the tiniest, pale yellow bikini. The cups of your top do the bare minimum at keeping you covered, but Mat has no complaints about it. He loves being able to see the sheen of sweat painting your skin, making it look extremely soft and silky. Don’t even get him started with the way your boobs rise and fall with every breath of air you take.

It’s like you know he’s watching when you adjust your form. His eyes follow the way your hips softly jut up so you can be more comfortable. Mat gulps down and leans his head back into the water, needing to cool down from your heated allure. But even with his eyes closed, he’s still taunted by the images of you behind his eyelids.

“Fuck, Maty. You feel so good,” you moan, hands pressed into his chest and your body straddling your boyfriend’s. His cock deep inside of you.

“Yeah, baby? You’re taking me so well,” he whispers, teeth nipping on your earlobe to make you lean into him.

Your boobs push up into his face and his mouth takes advantage of your nipples. He tugs and sucks at your stiffened peaks, drowning in the music that is your whimpers.

Mat’s hands go to your hips to guide you, but your body takes over. You bounce up and down, his leaking tip dragging along your wet walls. You grind into him and he hits your spongy spot. Your arousal increases and drips down his shaft. The squelching sounds intensifying your impending orgasm. After pleasure filled moments of taking him deeper and deeper, you start to swirl your hips from left to right and right to left. The movement lets you feel just how much he truly stretches you out. He fills you up in all the right ways; you swear you can feel him fuck into areas you didn’t even know existed.

“I’m gonna cum,” you announce, a finger circling your clit in tandem with your lower half.

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” your boyfriend encourages, hands glued to the cheeks of your ass.

The knot inside of your stomach snaps, throwing you into a dizzying, burning haze. Your back arches as your tight walls collapse around his cock. Mat’s finger takes over massaging your clit and that makes you go blind with ecstasy. Everything goes black as your body trembles furiously and you gush around his length. You fist his hair and pull his lips flush against yours, tongue thrusting into his mouth. He easily takes it into his mouth and sucks on it, tasting the remnants of his previous orgasm that you expertly sucked out of him.

Your sexy hockey player boyfriend shifts his hips, cock spreading you open all over again. You whimper and spasm against the muscles of his body. You’re so sensitive, any subtle movement of his has your cock-drunk pussy spiraling into another powerful orgasm. You clench down around him, keeping him tight and warm and making him see stars as he spills into you.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Your Pussy was made for me,” Mat’s groans rattle though your spent body as you continue to flutter around him, milking him for every single drop of his release.

A large hand wraps around your throat and pulls your face to his. His lips take yours and he steals whatever breath you have left.

Even in a relaxed state, Mat can’t escape the sight of your swiveling hips and the flush it creates on his neck down to his chest. It wouldn’t be a problem- the way you awaken his lust and cause his length to stir awake, but the fact that he has to wait until you’re done tanning is the problem.

It’s almost laughable the way Mat is so transparent. From your spot out of the water you can clearly tell he wants to take you exactly where you are. Impatience burns at his skin and you know that he wants nothing but to indulge in his lust.

You peer over at him from over the lens of your shades, catching a perfect glance at his hungry eyes. The usual hazel irises now mirror the espresso you had this morning. You flash him a knowing smirk, biting onto your bottom lip. The thought of his godlike body over yours sounds way too appealing.

God, you’re so lucky. You’re the one he craves; you’re the love of his life. All of his ex girlfriends and ex flings are nothing compared to you. You’re his living, breathing, dream. You feel nothing but pride, knowing that you’ve made him unattainable. You know, without a doubt, that one day you’ll be his wife and eventually have his babies. You shrug in nonchalance, happily accepting your fate while taking a sip of your sloshy margarita. The watermelon crush drips down your chin and you wipe it up with a single finger before popping it into your mouth, lapping up the liquid. Your action grabs Mat’s attention and pulls him out of the pool. You’re just too hard to resist.

“Hey, hot stuff,” Mat grins, droplets of water slipping down the defined ridges of his body as he exits the pool.

“Hey, hotshot,” you hum, taking another drink of the frozen goodness. The tequila burns your throat just right- almost like when you take your boyfriend’s cock into your mouth.

Mat pauses where he’s at, taking in the sight of you. You teasingly spread your legs open, your bikini covered heat begging him to come over. You silently call him to you with your pointer finger making a come hither motion.

“Hi, baby, can you put some tanning lotion on me?” You simply ask, holding out the bottle towards him.

“Of course, pretty girl.” He takes the bottle and squeezes the substance onto his palm.

Before he can start you flip over onto your stomach. You sport a cocky grin when you notice Mat’s eyes dip down to the curves of your ass. Now he knows why you had that familiar sultry lilt to your question; you were being a tease. With a deep breath he moves to start massaging the lotion into your legs.

His big hands take up so much space on your body and it drives you wild. Your core starts to drip and flutter, too bad you have to wait.

Moving onto your back, he takes his time and gives you a gentle massage. You practically melt into the lounger beneath you, especially when he starts tracing the letters of your tattoo. The feeling of his rough hands on your smooth skin is so enticing, because despite the roughness, he treats your body like you’re a goddess.

“That feels so good,” you moan and stretch out your limbs. Mat is instantly transported to his previous thoughts of you coming undone on top of him. Those moans are the exact same.

Without a word, your boyfriend delivers a hard smack to your ass. Your skin simmers under his palms and he grows hotter after hearing your whimper. The sting sends a jolt of pulsing desire to your pussy.

“You little shit,” you huff out, blowing some of your hair out of your face after Mat flipped you over by your hips. You throw a playful glare at him, but he just gives you a sassy smirk in return.

“You love me,” he says with a shrug and boy is he right.

You clench your thighs together as you’re desperate for friction. The way he easily manhandles you is one of the hottest things ever.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” you sigh, hands moving behind your back and pulling at the strings that hold your top up.

Your eyes lock onto your boyfriend’s, tension rising into the already humid air, and pull your top away from your chest. Your breasts fall free and every rational thought flees Mat’s head. He’s spent the entire time at the pool wanting you moaning and fucked out; he’s not waiting any longer.

Before he can make his next move, you place your foot on torso. He cocks his head to the side in a silent question. You hold the bottle of lotion out to him, humming in satisfaction when he reluctantly takes it.

This time his movements are with haste and he makes sure not to rub any on your exposed boobs. Not even your protest could get him to comply, but you quickly drop it in hopes of his perfect tongue swirling around your nipples.

After he’s done and the sun tan lotion is put away, he crawls over you. His hulking body looms over your smaller frame. To anyone else it’d look daunting, but it fills you with a carnal urge. Your hands ghost over his muscled chest and faint goosebumps appear on his skin. He leans down over your chest and takes a nipple into his mouth. You arch off the lounger and enjoy the way he nips at you. You card your fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands every time he sucks on you harder.

“Kiss me,” you whine, guiding his mouth away from your nipple and onto your mouth.

His tongue snakes between your lips, getting a taste of your margarita. The kiss is bruising and makes your body tingle; your heart accelerating with each caress. You pull Mat down on top of you, arms and legs wrapping around him. Your whine is swallowed by him as he grinds his clothed cock into your covered pussy. Pulling away, Mat takes a look at your glossy and plump lips, then he nibbles at them while you lay flaccid under him. His hands roam down your sides, painting you in a darkened flush that isn’t your tan. He fiddles with the ties of your bikini bottoms and slowly pulls them undone.

“I want you,” his voice is heavy with lust and it makes the hairs on your body stand.

Not feeling like replying, you rip off the bottoms to your bathing suit and then pull off his swim trunks. His member is thick and waiting for you. You give it a momentary fist until he knocks your hands away.

He grabs your waist and drags you closer to him. You let go of all control as he starts to roll your hips into him. Mat squeezes his cock between your folds, and each time you move, his angry, red tip massages your swollen clit. His length stiffens even more than it already is and it makes you want him even more.

“Please, baby. Please fuck me. Ruin me,” you beg, hands trying to put him inside of you.

“I got you, baby,” he shushes you.

He pushes into you with a gasp, making one fall from your lips at the delicious stretch. You’ll never get over the way his thick cock opens you up.

Mat holds himself up over you with his forearms pressing into the cushion. His thrusts are lazy, but you don’t care. Not when you can feel each of his veins rub against your tight walls. Even the vibration of his moans can be felt deep in your core, sparking up a fire within you. You move your hands to his back, falling more in love with the way his muscles stretch under his skin. You hold him tight because you need something grounding, something so you won’t quickly evaporate into the abyss.

“You feel so good, pretty girl,” Mat moans, his voice sickly sweet.

Your boyfriend tries to fasten his pace, but your slick walls won’t let him fully pull out. Looking down, Mat watches the way you suck him in and how your arousal collects at the base of his cock. The sight is erotic and Mat can feel his release start to bubble up.

You cup his cheeks, lips encasing his. The moment he sticks his tongue in your mouth you’re sucking on it like it’s the last thing you’ll get to feast on. You’re just about to tug on his bottom lip when your head falls back and a raspy moan claws its way up your throat. He nudged your g-spot with purpose; he wants to see you lost in rapture. He wants to see the way your chest heaves and your toes curl as you attempt to hold yourself together. Your nails dig into his skin and leave behind a trail of blistering red streaks. Those will have to be kissed on at a later time.

His hips bear down and snap into you, your breasts bouncing with every thrust. You can feel him bulge in your abdomen every time he lifts your lower half up to meet his movements.

“Oh my god! Yes, baby,” you shout, body running on nothing but margaritas and lust.

Your pussy starts to flutter around him, you’re slick dripping down his balls just as your tanning lotion now coats Mat’s skin. You wish so badly that you weren’t in the privacy of your own vacation home, so people can see and be jealous of the way your boyfriend tears you apart with his rock hard length. Something similar to feral grips at you, turning your rational mind upside down. You’d be called insane if people knew that you want the sound of the afternoon breeze to turn into moans of other people getting off on you and your man.

“Baby, you’re so wet. Is it all for me?” Mat asks as if he doesn’t already know.

“Yes! All for you,” you say with an affirmative nod.

Your core melts around him as he pushes deeper inside of you. You press your feet into the small of his back to keep him flush to you. His mouth is right next to your ear and his salacious moans set off your release. A soft hand goes to the nape of his neck and grips his grown out hair. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm surges through your body. Your twitching walls create a ripple effect and push his orgasm into motion. His hot cum shoots thick ropes inside of you as you quake underneath him.

With a low, husky grunt Mat slumps into your body. Your boobs become squished into his sweaty chest, but the feeling of his rapidly beating heart distracts you from the feel of the tackiness dressing your skin. He noses at the pulse point on your neck; his lips leaving delicate kisses and fresh bruises you’ll have to cover with makeup.

“I love you,” he mumbles into your collarbone before resting his cheek over your heart. His breath is heavy and his eyes are lidded, Luke he’s ready to fall asleep.

He slowly rearranges himself, his cock still keeping his release inside of you, making sure to softly drag out your orgasm.

“I love you,” you moan. His weight keeps you anchored down, so your overstimulation doesn’t sweep you away.

You gently card your fingers through his hair, each other’s bodies slipping into a state of tranquility. You eventually fall asleep wrapped up in Mat as the sun washes over the both of you in your throne of bliss.

a/n: So this is the first piece in a while that I enjoyed writing for visceral in doses. I hope you all enjoy it🫶

#mat barzal #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fic #visceral in doses #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders

[loverickyys]

Maybe gunwook x f!reader first time smut?

He would be so sweet :33

. ݁𖦹₊ ⊹ First time with gunwook!

Minors dni

- gunwook and you have been together for almost 3 years by now, when you express the wish of wanting to take your relationship further. ofc you both make out here and there, but this is a big deal.

- gunwook freaks out cuz u are way more dominant in these matters compared to him.

- goes on to read and opens at least a hundred websites about first time sex. he is doing his best to gather as much as info, and he is freaking out in the process

- you mean the world to him, and he wants this to be perfect for you but he is just way too innocent and under informed.

- seeks help from his hyungs (not the best idea when the said hyung is kim horny 24/7 gyuvin)

- gyuvin ends up making him more flustered with his extremely graphic descriptions of various sex positions. gunwook is blushing like crazy, probably having a culture shock when jiwoong decides to step in and actually give some good advice.

Now to the actual first time.. :)

- you guys are at his house, just a normal date night, curled up in the bed watching movies. his mind is running in different directions on how to approach you. finally gains enough courage to pull you closer against his chest.

- one thing leads to another and you end up straddling his lap, your lips connected. the movie completely forgotten. a sudden confidence boost in gunwook, as he lets go of your lips and asks if you are completely sure about this. (consent is very sexy for gunwook everyone.)

- you smile against his lips mumbling a soft yes before tugging at his shirt to take it off. once you both are left in your undergarments, things start to hit him again. he stares at you blankly and you have to kiss him out of the trance.

- "what's wrong wookie?" you say cupping his face. he melts in your embrace, and wraps his hands around your waist tighter. "it's just that you are so precious to me and I don't want to do anything which is not pleasurable for you. what if something goes wrong." he admits shyly.

- you chuckle lightly, bringing his face closer to yours. "oh wookie you don't have to worry about that. there is no one I would trust this more than you." you say lovingly to which he responds by attaching your lips again, all messy. you can feel his hand going down and tracing the elastic of your underwear before pushing his digits inside it, moving in small circles against your clit.

- you let out a moan, making him go faster and going further by putting in a finger, teasing your hole. he is completely concentrated at your face and the way your eyes roll a little when he adds another finger, scissoring you open. you have to hold down to his broad shoulders, your hips now moving on their own, riding his fingers.

- his other hand reaches for your bra strap and slides them down to release your boobs. staring at them intently he gives your right nipple a reluctant lick. you moan even louder making him fully suck at them.

- you are practically a mess right now, and gunwook is super hard to the point his cock is begging to be released from the confinements of his black briefs. you do him the favour by sliding your hand and wrapping your fingers around his cock, pumping lightly making him groan.

- he retracts his fingers from abusing your hole as you clumsily try to get the condom on his cock. both of you sweating and feeling too up in your heads. once the condom is on, he pulls you up and helps you down on his cock.

- it's painful for you to fit him fully and the moment you are able to bottom out, you have to rest your head on his shoulder. core burning from the stretch.

- gunwook feels like he is going to explode. your walls are wrapping around his length so perfectly. he gives you time to get used to the uneasiness before dragging your hips very slowly.

- both of you moan as the pain is replaced by pure bliss of being stuffed like this. he helps you ride him and it doesn't take you long to reach your climax, letting out a cry of his name and biting his shoulder.

- he cums just after you. orgasm hitting hard, groaning your name and pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, muttering I love you against your lips.

- both of you are quite wasted after the respective orgasms, just basking in each other embrace. you whine as he pulls out of you already missing the sensation of him inside you.

- aftercare is just him spooning you followed by both of you falling fast asleep, still naked and too tired to clean up.

#zb1 smut #zb1 hard hours #gunwook smut #zb1 gunwook #gunwook x reader #zerobaseone smut #skyasks🪐

[izvmimi]

cw: minors dni. masturbation. pathetic boy energy tbh. inappropriate use of fruit. lots of cum. extreme secondhand embarrassment. sex toy mention. fem!reader.

a/n: needy boys make do. i’m not sorry for this fic.

it’s disgustingly hot and humid this time of year, and izuku, despite his apartment sitting at a cool 68 degrees Fahrenheit, feels so warm he thinks he’ll lose his mind. 

it’s probably because he’s been fucking himself into a frenzy, the sweat from nearly an hour of pleasure-chasing sticking his curls to his forehead, fingers even stickier with repeated spurts of cum that do nothing to relieve the tension. extreme stress and loneliness - you’ve been gone for over a month on an overseas trip - combine to create the most sexually frustrated man on earth. it’s dark in the room and his brain is clouded, staring at pictures of you despite the fact that his alarm is set to pick you up at the airport in two and a half hours. his rough, scarred palm rubbing up and down his length is an awful replacement for your soft, warm, wet cunt, no matter how much lube he adds.

desperate. if you could see him now, cumming again at just the thought of putting it inside you once again after he picks you up, you’d think he was a little too whipped for you. and so what? you are it for him, after all. 

it’s 8pm, and the primal heat inside won’t abate. how many times has he cum already? he’s lost count, and now he’s wondering if he was struck with some virility quirk he hasn’t yet encountered. either way, his throat is dry, and he takes a break, bringing himself off soiled sheets and stripping them off the bed. you deserve a clean bed to spend the night in, even if he hopes he can mess them up further, this time with both of your bodies, not just his.

not bothering to put on pants in his own apartment, he deposits the messy linen into the dirty laundry and hides it away, then makes his way to the kitchen. pouring himself an ice cold glass of water that he gulps down with the fridge door still open. he wonders why and how he could still possibly be horny, and if he should jack off one more time or wait and risk getting scolded by you for trying to fuck you in the car. no matter how hard he cuts it, his imagination and his hand is simply not enough. he needs something more to quench his thirst - 

and then as he turns he sees it.

a large, oblong shaped watermelon sits on the countertop. untouched. something that his mom brought by for you two to share once you touched down. it’s elongated, and heavier than it looks, which means it’s juicy, and-

no. he can’t stoop this low.

he places the glass in the sink, and turns and it’s there again. about the thickness of your hips.

no. he cannot go this far. even if he can feel the tingle in his cock again and it’s up, yet again, waiting for his attention.

he swallows.

there’s a knife left in the sink, and his resolve breaks.

---

a couple hours later, izuku leads you into his apartment, tidied up just for you, and once the door closes behind you, he whisks you up again, just like he did at the airport, an action that makes you giggle before you demand he puts you down.

“but i missed you so much!” he makes a playful show of frowning which you just as playfully roll your eyes at before hissing for him to put you back on the ground. 

“put me down, midoriya!”

“fineeeeee,” he pretends to roll his eyes, as you put away your coat in the hallway closet. he takes the rest of your bags as you’re spending the weekend before returning to your own place, and quickly sets them in his bedroom, expecting you to follow him.

you don’t, he realizes after a few seconds.

wondering why you’re trailing behind, he goes back out to search for you.

“babe?”

and then it occurs to him, and his heart nearly stops.

he finds you in the kitchen - the fucking kitchen - and not the living room as he had anticipated, and you’ve dropped your keys on the small table in the corner and are now washing your hands at the sink.

besides you is a watermelon and you’re looking directly at it.

his belly is stricken with panic. you, however, don’t look upset or offended, just confused, and you turn off the water and shake your hands out.

“what the hell happened to this watermelon?” you ask, curiously. 

he blinks a few times rapidly, heart racing, then realizes that from your vantage point, you can only see that it no longer has a smooth contour, but rather a suspiciously symmetric pattern of indentations. however, his... accommodation is turned away from you, and -

he makes his way over to you quickly, leaning so that his back is facing the offending fruit.

“what do you mean? n-nothing happened.”

you blink, then shift him aside ever so gently, noticing that he’s not budging, and you give him a look before he moves reluctantly so that you can better inspect it.

“i need to start shopping with you more often,” you insist.

midoriya is praying to every god, every spirit, every vestige, every all might figure even, that you don’t touch it and instead go for a bathroom break before dinner so that he can toss his shame out the window.

but of course, when you start going, you’re really going.

you reach over for it and he can see his life flash before his eyes.

“__, how about we-?” he tries to intercept but you’ve already pulled it towards you.

the watermelon rolls.

and it leaks.

white, watery liquid, mixed with flecks of watermelon flesh, clearly leaks out of a hole, that is exactly the girth of your boyfriend’s cock, and the two of you watch it seep, until it’s dripping off the counter, and creating a puddle on the linoleum. not a word is shared between you two. by the time you finally turn to look at izuku, he is so ghostly white, you’re pretty sure you can see not only his soul, but every prior user of OFA leave his body.

stunned, your mouth moves before you can even think of what to say.

“d-did you... fuck a watermelon...?”

his mouth opens and closes like a fish, and you look away from him, and back to the incredible scene in front of you, then back at him.

you rub your eyes. “i’m not imagining this, am i? you actually came inside this fruit?”

izuku immediately defends himself with his hands raised, which is the worst possible move. “i-it didn’t feel as good as you!”

it’s your turn to open and close your mouth. izuku winces as though he’s been physically punched.

“t-thank you?” you offer, incredulous.

you’re at an impasse. one of you is fucking fruit and the other one has just found out. the good news is your pussy is better than the watermelon’s. the bad news is izuku is looking at you with fear and you can’t decide whether it is justified or not. 

all that on top of the fact that your fucking boyfriend is fucking fruit.

“babe-” he starts reaching for you, and you immediately raise a hand.

“i need a moment.” 

he looks like he’s about to cry. you stand there again, eyebrows furrowed, wondering how to proceed, and then you take a deep breath.

“explain.” your arms are crossed and you’re trying to sound gentle if not desperately confused.

“I... you...” he’s making desperate hand gestures, at a loss for words and you rub your temples. he immediately gives up.

“please don’t leave me,” he begs. “i missed you and-”

“watermelon was good enough?”

his jaw drops, and somehow, somewhere, something snaps, and you start laughing hysterically. you laugh for an entire minute straight, doubled over and clearly insane, and izuku at some point wonders if somehow this was your limit - somehow, he broke you by fucking fruit and maybe he should start running rather than explaining. 

finally, after what seems like forever, your laughter comes to a close, and you rub tears out of your eyes, and he still looks absolutely devastated - you can see him lose the strength in his legs and tears fill his because you’re gonna dump him and tell everyone that #1 up and comer Pro Hero Izuku has a fruit fetish and you almost start laughing again but try to keep it to one giggle before asking:

“did you shower?”

confused by the sudden pivot, he croaks out a “what?” you grin devilishly and step just a little bit closer.

“did you shower or am I gonna have to pull watermelon bits out of your foreskin? I can’t afford a yeast infection, Mr. Hero.”

his eyes glimmer with hope as he nods yes.

“so you’re not dumping me?”

you giggle again, then step even closer, fingers playing with the seam of his pants before you unbutton them, and he looks at you as though you are the goddess of mercy incarnate.

“no, you clearly need pussy STAT,” you whisper with a devious smile.

---

between sticky but thankfully not sugary sweet sheets, you rest atop of izuku so-desperate-to-fuck-you-he-tried-mellussy midoriya’s chest, your own cheeks flushed with lovemaking and the apartment feeling slightly too hot.

“you need to turn down the heat in here,” you whine.

“it’s at 68,” he frowns. he’s still breathing a little heavy, but finally he looks satisfied and tired out as he rests his arm around your waist. the other caresses your hair, and you think briefly about how he just caressed your insides, or rather completely rearranged them.

“it needs to be 65,” you mumble.

he sighs.

“fine.”

you let a finger trail up and down the curve of his face, then look him in the eyes.

“also, you need a pocket pussy.”

izuku reddens deeply, then protests.

“no the fuck i don’t.”

he fell into your trap immediately. “what, is the produce aisle cheaper?”

“___!”

you bury your face in his chest, laughing still.

“i have to admit the desperation’s kinda sexy... but pocket pussy for Christmas it is.”

he groans and you beam because he will never live this down, as long as the two of you live.

#izuku smut #izuku midoriya smut #izuku midoriya x reader smut #pro hero deku smut #daydreams: bnha #thoughts: izuku #mimi's notes

[dev1lm4n]

sinful reunion

masterlist | ko-fi (help me survive college :/)

pairing: engaged!joel miller x f!reader

summary: frustrated with how things were, you left joel and jackson for a whole year. today, you decide to give him a little visit and figure out that he's indeed engaged! joel trapped you in his bathroom to make you feel better

word count: 5k

warnings: explicit (18+), extreme dubcon, mean joel miller, fingering, infidelity, again.. joel miller is a mean, mean man.

note: do COMMENT and REBLOG if you enjoyed this :) i'm so exhausted from college i'm literally gonna pass out after i post this

Spring flew swiftly by, and summer came; and if the quaint city had been beautiful at first, it was now in the full glow and luxuriance of its richness. The great trees, which you remembered looking shrunken and bare when you left, had now burst into strong life and health. Branches doubled in length and girth, mantle of bright green draped over deep browns. Masses of white flowers brought memories of the late winter. A bubbling cloud of hot steam evaporated off your exposed forearm. The rolled sleeves settling right above your elbow was damp with sweat, same thing goes for below your arms and between your thighs. You sighed. The folded porno magazine you’ve been using as a shield above your forehead didn’t help much after all.

If it’s not for that old, obscene, grouch of a man, you wouldn’t have returned in the height of summer.

Things hadn’t changed much.

People are still as hopeful as ever. Their eyes shone with a renewed brightness, as if a full stomach and a roof over their head was simply enough to keep them satiated. They still bake apple pies, shovel their walkways, go to work (even if it's not to the infamous Wall Street), return home and share a familiar tequila with a friend or fiend. People are still people. And the pretend normalcy drove you insane. It’s confining and overall suffocating. 

Being safe ailed you. You couldn’t be that lady in old commercials. Plaid apron over her chest, sandwiches on the table, husband and kid smiling at her happily. You couldn’t kiss your husband goodbye or craft lunch boxes for your kid. You couldn’t live if it wasn’t on the edge of death.

You tried. For Joel, you swore you’d try.

It’s been a full year since you fled. Maxine, your dear horse being the only witness to your escape. That and the night guard you threatened with a shotgun, an unloaded one you’d argue, but it’d still have you in big trouble if it was reported. With a few old friends or two, you managed to slip back in discreetly. You disguised yourself as a patrol unit. Practical jeans, some stitches torn apart from prolonged use, and a khaki button up. Boots that’s dipped in dust and dirt tight around your calves, a bold contrast to the neat wooden boards underneath. Your eyes landed on the welcome mat in front of his door. A shrilling memory invaded your head‒ how you picked it out for him, all smiles and giggles at the corny line printed atop.

You stepped on the mat, mocking it by grinding your dirty heel atop.

Then you knocked. Precisely three times.

Maybe you shouldn’t have come. It was shameless of you to return. Cruel, even.. disgusting for you to abandon someone who’s clearly dependent on you. 

He lived for you. Every morning he made sure to wake you up with a gentle kiss on your lips, or your clit if he’s being kind. Every night he’d always tell you how much you meant to him, never an I love you, but always in the lines of dangerous situations and how he’d save you from it. You made a promise to stay. A promise to accept a ring around your pretty fingers when the time comes; doesn’t have to be shiny, you said, anything will do. But then you left. While he was out, keeping the city safe from any potential threats, you buckled up and tugged on your horse’s reins. Maybe you shouldn’t have come. Maybe you should just-

You jolted, even stumbled backwards when the large door swung open in one grand movement.

In panic, your eyes oscillated. His eyes were the same shade of brown you remembered him by, though this time it was much rounder, as if he’s truly surprised. Then it came to meet his hooked nose, the one you’d poke everytime you’re laid side by side post-coitus,. And his cracked lips, oh how you remembered kissing them better. 

Joel Miller hadn’t changed one bit. It freaked you out, how he looked the same as he did when he practically proposed to you or when you promised to still love him even when he’s no longer young and strong. Your breath quickened. Your heart froze, cold sweat dribbled down your temple even when the air’s hot and balmy. You clutched onto the rolled magazine. The salacious pages of nude girls in cowboy hats creased at the strength of your bare hands. Is he going to say something? Anything? You’d rather have him furious than silent.

“Who is it, honey?”

The air thinned.

“The turkey’s cooked, but it’s kinda burnt.” The voice giggled. “Oh, who is this?”

You counted to ten to ground yourself.

One.. Two..

“Just.. just an old friend,” he muttered.

There was a girl. A pretty one at that, standing on her tippy toes as she attempted to look past Joel’s broad frame to observe you. Her tanned skin glowed like a newly polished silverware under the summer sun. A cascade of glossy, ebony hair framed her round face, falling in gentle waves which closely resembled swaying palm trees in coastal beaches. You noticed that it was adorned with delicate, ornate hairpins as well. One of flowers and the other of a classic shape. Was it from him? He used to do that for you, picking up small items to gift like a bird in need of mating. The thin gold strap around your neck was from him, a gift from when the two of you were still operating high-risk jobs around Boston. A proof that you’re mine, he spoke that time.

Joel made the conscious decision to move to the side. Now you could see her more. How she’s cladded in a loose shirt with short sleeves rolled to her shoulders, how her shorts fit perfectly around her smooth thighs, how her supple breasts spilled out of the neckline. In any way you’d think of it, she was the better option. A masterpiece in the Louvre museum, a best-selling New York Times book. She’d be a model if the world wasn’t infested with flesh-eating nuisance. Your head lowered (you’re staring too much!), opting to scrutinize the details of your boots’ mud yellow strings. 

This was a bad decision. You shouldn’t have come. If only you weren’t curious of whether he’d get on his knees and beg for you to stay. If only you weren’t curious of whether he’d embrace you back in his large arms. If he’d fuck you ‘til your little brain stop working.

“Well then, what are you waiting for?” The feminine voice spoke up. “Invite your friend in, Joel.”

“No- haha, no it’s alright,” you panicked.

“No,” she reached for your hand. The free one, not the one with the porn magazine. “Com’on. I cooked a big dinner tonight! The more, the merrier.”

“I really shouldn’t,” you tried to convince her.

Her soft, greasy hands ‒ probably from stuffing the turkey she’s claimed to make ‒ led you through the entrance despite your many reasons. You found it a little funny that you still memorized the layout of Joel’s house like the back of your hand, like an old corny song you couldn’t quite get out of your head. The dining room was to the left, you remembered. It was just as you left it. An old, dull rectangular table sat in the middle. It used to be only filled with bread and fruits you pick up from the market. Sometimes you’re diligent enough to create a sweet jam, but there was never a fresh meal on the table. There’s no time for that. He would often times heat up a can of Chef Boyardee when you’re sick, or when he’s ruined your little hole so much that you’re pretty much bedridden, but that’s about it/

“Your name is?” you questioned, eyes still roaming around the room.

“Summer and yours?”

You mentioned your name half-mindedly as you sat down on one of the creaky chairs. You opted for the one on the left, your favorite one as it always gave you a five-star view of the lovely trees beyond. The room was much cleaner, curtains drawn and ceilings dusted. You’d even bet money that ‘Summer’ had also dusted all the compartments of the chandelier, wiped each and every window panel, and vacuumed the rotten patterned carpet underneath. The rounds of your pupils settled back on the sight unfolding ahead of you; how the Joel Miller, the same person who needed an entire year or two to be comfortable in expressing his feelings to you, led his new lover by the waist. He then proceeded to pull her chair back to aid her, a gentle smile on his face at all times.

He changed.

He looked exactly the same, but there was just.. something off about him. Was he a doppelganger by chance? Joel Miller is never warm. He’s naturally a tough lover. Reluctant, even mean at times, but right now he’s acting like the picture-perfect husband. A righteous man, which you knew he ain’t.

“So where’d y’all know each other from?” 

Her lovely, cheery voice pulled you out of your dazed state. You raised your head slightly to flash a small smile her way. The chair creaked once more at Joel’s weight as he settled on your right, heavy frame and all extremely obvious from the corner of your eyes. A man, his lover, and his sort-of-ex having dinner in the late afternoon of a warm summer day‒ how ironic! You couldn’t even look at him, because sparing him a glance meant that you had to look at those manipulative eyes of his. Those browns that could impose a certain feeling deep in your chest, whether hatred, fear, or something close to love.

“Work,” he spoke up, “used to deliver packets.”

Half the truth. Packets? Sure, but not ordinary ones.

“Mhm. We arrived at Jackson together.”

As lovers, you’d like to add.

“Long time friends then?” Summer beamed a sweet smile your way. 

Guilt pooled in your stomach almost instantly.

“Yup.”

“Oh well, me and Joel met last Winter. He’s fond of the horses and I work at the stables so things worked out,” she mentioned dreamily, “the winter festival’s our first date.”

An eerie tension stood between you and him. It was thick, as thick as blood and as nasty as pus on a wound left unattended. 

He stood up after a moment or two to help slice open the thick turkey and only then did you dare to look at him. To ogle at his large forearms that’s tightly gift-wrapped in a thin breathable shirt, to dig deep into where his veins start and where it ends, to finally relish in the sight of his thick, bushy hair. It’s been awhile. A long time actually since you get to properly look at a man. You continued to watch as he sliced a chunk and placed it right on top of your empty plate, the knife he’s holding reflecting his tight-lipped smile your way. The winter festival’s supposed to be your thing. The two of you’s thing, where you’d gift each other a surprise and smoke a blunt or two and maybe fuck, but you left.

“That’s nice,” you replied, albeit a little dry.

“He’s a nice man,” Summer chimed in. “Kind, caring, a true Southern gentleman that is.”

You could argue on that.

“Is he now?”

“True thing that is. Swear on my life,” she continued. “Must be nice having him as a friend.”

“Well, don’t toot my horn too much, darlin’.”

There it was. That masculine drawl. That voice that’d have you begging on your knees if he asked you to. You’d commit the greatest crime‒ no, you’ve commit notable crimes just to have him stay right by your side. Just to have him acknowledge what you’re capable of, so he’d take you under his wings in the depth of Boston’s trenches, because protection from him meant a good life. Maybe that’s all you’ll ever be to him, a little bird to protect. And maybe that’s all he’ll ever be to you, a protector in times of need.

“It’s a little warm here in Jackson,” you chuckled. “A cold beer might help a lot.”

“Oh sorry, honey, we don’t drink alcohol ‘round here.” She sounded apologetic, but you swore her almond eyes were judging you for a second.

“You don’t?”

“Nope,” Summer leaned her head to the side. “Been going to church these days. Pastor said it’s better to pray than indulge in past addictions. Ain’t that right, Joel?”

“That’s right, honey,”

Joel Miller is a church-goer now? For the first time in forever, you had the courage to look him in the eye. He was looking right back at you when you looked, though he had one of those expressions you couldn’t quite decipher. His tired eyes were hooded, enough that the top and bottom curve of his dark pupils are nowhere to be seen, along with a much obvious glint of mischief. It was either morbid curiosity, rooted hatred, or desires of past addictions as Summer puts it. The strands on your brow bone twitched ever so slightly, as if in pure disbelief that a man like him would kneel for a God. It’s not that sinners couldn’t repent. It’s him that you knew could never change. You took a bite out of the supple meat, never leaving his eyes as you do so. Maybe.. just maybe he’d crack under pressure.

“You go to church too?” Summer questioned, mouth full of boiled asparagus.

“No, not really.” You chuckled awkwardly. “There’s not a lot of churches out in the wild.”

“Ah, that’s right,” she hummed. “Why don’t you go to church with us this Sunday? A lot of fun y'know.”

You plastered on a smile, before briefly scooping some of the stringy meat up your mouth.

“I’ll consider it.”

Joel was the first one to snip the ungodly attraction‒ his eyes torn away to meet Summer’s much brighter gaze. Your gut tightened, gag reflex emphasized even more at the sight. Joel Miller was yours, that’s all you could remember despite the extent you took to avoid him, and having him give his precious attention to someone other than you brought a sense of disdain. He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn't land his eyes on anyone other than you, weren’t you the best thing he ever had? It took awhile to school your expression to a level of believable nonchalance. You found the vintage canvas hung atop of the fireplace a great help in distracting yourself. It’s easy to get lost in every stroke, every clash of colors, instead of the green man squeezing himself between your heart chambers.

“Oh, when did you-” you paused mid sentence.

A ring. 

“Ah.”

Your vision blurred, splotches of red and blue tearing at the edges.

“Engaged, huh?”

A solitary engagement ring encircled her long finger, miraculously preserved by time’s embrace. A relic at times like these. You watched as it glimmered under the orange hues, jaw propped up on your palm to stop it from gaping. A small, radiant stone set in tarnished silver‒ the object mocked you silently, a red flag in front of an agitated bull, it’s purposefully making you reel into the depth of your hatred. Where the you one year ago rested in peace, where the you you’ve been trying to erase off the planet’s surface hibernated, and everything’s starting to resurface all at once. The need. The desperation. The desire to be wanted by something.. someone you couldn’t acquire entirely. You laughed. A dry one at that. Might even sound condescending if it were a tad bit shorter.

He fucking proposed to her. 

Of course he did.

Of course he had to change his ways after you.

You don’t deserve being treated right. She does.

“Oh, you noticed,” she giggled, the noise shrill in your ears. “Just last month actually. We were having dinner and I-”

“Sorry, I..”

You were suffocating, chest inflated twice the size.

“Feel a little sick. Gonna go to..” you held your hand over your lips, genuinely feeling like emptying your entire stomach. “To the bathroom.”

You stared at your own reflection, pitiful, glazed with a layer of disappointment and grief. The vision you had for this visit slowly crumbled. Every unfulfilled dream, every missed opportunity, and every question left unanswered converged into a heartache‒ dull yet throbbing, coursing through every inch of your skin and crawling much deeper. The laughter and conversations you had with him seemed so.. distant, as if they were mere echoes of what once existed a million lightyears ago. You held yourself, worn down fingers clinging on your forearms, nails digging down onto the warm skin underneath. What were you expecting? For him to mourn your exit for the rest of his life? Perhaps. Joel Miller was great at making you feel like shit, but today takes the cake.

Leaving was the only thing on your mind and so you gripped the rusty door handle. A quick exit, you knew you were good at that. Though instead of a brightly lighted hallway, your chest collided with a tough chest wrapped in a flannel shirt. A sandalwood, musky flannel shirt you might add and all those plans you had in mind dwindled down like a damp paper airplane. Plan A, B, and C were quickly crossed out on the chalkboard. Frozen, your lips trembled in fear. You stumbled backwards. Boots thudding against the old tiles, you’re afraid. Chest inflated with fear, you’re terrified!

“Move, Joel.”

Silence.

“Fucking move. Get out of my way.”

You threw quick, meaningless punches on the broad of his chest. It did nothing but made him get bolder with his actions. He took a step back, which you’re grateful for, but not when you realize that it was to lean back against the bathroom’s door. You’ve come a long way from how meek and helpless you were in the QZ, managing to survive the scary outside world for a whole year and keeping all your limbs attached, but you knew that you’d never manage to budge his weight. He was heavy. Used to be a massive ball of muscles, though now slightly worn down by his age. Joel threw you a look. A dirty, demeaning one that’s always been reserved for you. Only you.

“Fuckin' hell are you deaf?”

You bubbled up.

“Fuck you and your little play house. Going to church? Should repent the many souls you took yourself,” you seethed. “You’re just a big asshole on legs y’know that? Now fuck off. It’s a fucking mistake coming to see you.”

You stormed his way. Big mistake. He took you by the shoulder. Rough fingers dug deep into where your bone sits, his knee quick to slot itself between your legs. He was quick to switch the dynamic, to be the offensive one instead as he had you pinned on the wall. The frail wooden bathroom door creaked at the contact, its hinges banging against one another. You looked like one of those dead butterfly displays, spread out forcefully to show your entire potential. Was he going to murder you? Was he going to bang your head against the mirror and leave you there to bleed? He looked like it. With those blown out pupils, you're not even sure if he’s going to keep you alive or dead. If he's going to finally end your misery at last.

“You’re gonna kill me?” You tried to shove his chest back, but it’s no use. “Gonna choke me to death?”

“No!” The grip he had on your shoulder never once loosened, even at your viscous accusations. “You really think I’d kill you?”

“I don’t know.” Your eyebrows sunken in sorrow.

“You don’t know?””

“You’re not the man I once knew, Joel.”

“I’m-”

“I don’t know you anymore! You’re not the same.” Your feet tried to tackle his legs, a move he taught, but he stayed unbudged. “You’re kind, attentive.. you’re there, Joel. You���re present in time. You’re never present with me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh fuck off, Joel. You’re not gonna gaslight me.”

That had him briefly loosening the grip around your shoulders. You were quickly met with his cold finger tips, grazing the soft skin of your cheeks, only to settle on your cracked, bloody bottom lip. In a haze, you’re unprepared for the hand slithering its way onto your throat. It squeezed tight enough to impede your airway for a brief second or two, only to loosened when your eyes grew teary. You gasped for air immediately.

“You left!”

“You proposed to her!”

His expression toughened. The Joel Miller you knew was back. The cruel one with tendencies to abandon, to be hollow of true meaningful feelings, and he was inching closer. His soft scruff brushed against the tip of your ears. Warm puffs of air made you turn your head to the side, avoiding his serpent-like hold. He's quick to guide you by your jaw when you start straying off.

“Didn’t know if you’re alive or dead.”

“Oh I bet you’d be enthralled if I were dead,” you chuckled humorlessly. “You hated me, Joel.”

“I was worried,” he continued, ignoring your comments entirely. 

He placed a gentle kiss on your temple, slow and steady as if you’d vanish into dust once more if he was too rough, and proceeded to smother sloppy kisses down your cheek and onto your neck. It glided like warm butter or sunscreen on a beach day. Joel never forgot the way in which you enjoyed getting those sweet spots below your jaw sucked, a mark to show his claim over you, to show his ownership even if you had to drape a shawl over it every time you had to shop for groceries or go on patrols. You weren’t as pretty and prim today though. You were untamed, always attempting to pull yourself away from him, to avoid his rough fingers and needle-like beard.

“Went on a search team every day for a whole month,” he hummed. “What if my sweetheart’s bleeding out in the midst of winter? Low visibility and endless snowstorms. What if you’re shot dead or worse, turned into one of those creatures?”

“But you’re a smart little minx, ain’t ya?” he huffed, his fingers gentle as it slowly popped the buttons to your shirt. His musky scent infiltrated your head. You’re drunk on him. “Threw a tantrum so big you disappeared on me.”

“No, Joel, we- we can’t,” you forced those words out, even when your soft breasts were spilled out of your chest. Those sensitive peaks were already stiff, you’d lie and say it’s simply because of the cold, but there’s no such thing. “Can’t- you’re en- engaged..”

He toyed with your nipples, squeezing and tugging on the right one before giving the same attention to the left. His eyes were dark, pupils dilated as he swirled around the sensitive skin with his coarse fingers. Your breath hitched and your chest spasmed. Every inch of morality left your headspace at the twinge of pleasure, your knees grew weak and he had to prop you up against his strong shoulders to aid you.

“You’re cheatin- oh fuck..”

“I am, huh?” he chuckled lowly. “You don’t want this then? Want me to leave?”

“No! No, please please,” you begged as his fingers carefully began to undo the stiff belt around your waist. He tugged on your zippers, tortuously, slowly unraveling the pretty skin he’s been missing so goddamn much. “I need you..”

“Needy minx,” he insulted teasingly. “Shameless, aren’t ya? Didn’t ya just say ya hate me?”

You whimpered. This shouldn’t be happening. This wasn’t in any of the plans you’ve concocted, it was just pure desire. He felt sinfully good. So warm and firm against your body, so strong and dependable. His shoulder proved to be the perfect place to bury your head into, muffling out the noises you’re prone to make when he shoved his entire palm down your panties. Joel Miller didn’t tolerate the misdemeanor. The hand he had around your neck tightened ever so slightly, before he abruptly pushed you back onto the wooden door. The hard material thudded against your back, resulting in a soft, breathless whine for more. He might be a mean, mean man for afflicting such things, but you’re even more insane for tolerating it.

“Ah, look at you,” he hummed, fingers tapping slow beats onto the hood of your clitoris. “No one fucked you good enough out there.”

You shook your head no. Annoyed, Joel slid his index and middle finger down onto your slit. He cumulated the slickness gathered around your pathetic little hole, before he slid it back up to tease. Up and down. Up and down. Then a full circle. The motion left you breathless, thighs bucking up against his hand, but he’d give you a light slap on the thigh if that happens.

“Oh.. you haven’t fucked anyone else out there?” he cocked his head arrogantly. “Dunno if I can believe a pretty girl like you. After all..”

He had the audacity to slip his finger in. A whole knuckle down your entrance, which is much more than you anticipated. Almost instantly, a sticky clear substance started dribbling out, gushing all around the foreign object infiltrating your cunt. It’s been so long, far too long that you kept yourself untouched. You could basically be categorized as a virgin again at this point. It wasn’t a deliberate decision, it’s just that no one turned you on this much. No one could shove their fingers inside you without getting their head blown off. No one but him.

“You’re not the girl I once knew.”

He turned your little insults right back at you. A single tear dribbled down your warm cheeks, hot and invasive, your fragile heart torn into two and stomped on the ground. Joel retaliated by pressing his lips right onto yours. Starting out soft and smooth, gentle and reverent, as if it was his way of apologizing and professing his undying love for you, but then it grew rougher and unrecognizable. A clash of teeth, a vicious fight for dominance. You had to put up a little fight, show him the kind of girl you’ve turned into, but when he eased a second finger down the tight rings of your cunt, it’s all over. You squirmed, desperately grinding down against his rough palm.

“Fuck me!”

“What was that?”

“Fuck me, Jo-”

A knock.

Your eyes blew wide open. The soft fluorescent lights flickered above, casting an eerie shadow that danced across Joel’s expression. You let out a soft whimper, eyes pressed into a crescent shape as you felt the need to cry out of fear and guilt, a sobering shot that made you realize how wrong this was. How disgusting this is. Immoral. Even when he was still three knuckles deep inside your pussy, even when you knew you couldn’t push him away. Your knuckles grew white as it clung onto the fabric of his flannel. He didn’t pay any mind to the interruption, instead, he continued to thrust his dripping fingers in, reaching around to find that squishy spot of yours. The one that’d send stars onto your vision.

“Are you okay in there? I didn’t know why you got sick..”

The muffled voice strengthened the guess you had in your head. It’s Summer, the girl with the engagement band around her fingers, the girl who’s supposed to have his two fingers deep inside her cunt. Your heart raced like a wild stallion, thunderous beats resonating in your ears. A small moan barged its way out your lips when he pressed on your clit once more with his thumb, he quickly guided your jaw back to face him with his free hand. Joel’s expression hardened, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a tight-line, then his mouth contorted into shapes. A wordless order to stay quiet and respond accordingly. You nodded, bottom lip slotted between your teeths.

“Was it the turkey I cooked? Oh god.. it’s my first time cookin’ in. I didn’t know that it’d be terrible. I’m so sorry, do you need some help in there? I can-”

“No.. oh! No.. no.. I’m fi- aaagh- fine.”

Your eyes darted around the small space, looking for any means to escape, but the solitary window was far too small to be of any use. Panic had seized you, but Joel’s fingers brought you back where he needed you to be. On the edge of an orgasm that you knew was going to melt your brain and make you go dumb.

“Really? You don’t sound too good.. I could maybe cook you up a remedy.. Oh, or we can go to the infirmary together? Just I don’t-”

“No.. ooh. Summer, I’m- shit- Summer, I’m fine.”

“Oh.. okay then. I’ll be waiting outside. Um, do you maybe know where Joel is? Kinda wanna see if he has some meds for you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you tried to navigate your way to release. The thumb he had on your clitoris started rubbing faster, tighter circles, leaving you on the very edge of a dangerous cliff.

“Dunno- oh fuck.”

He’s in there with you for fucks sake. Her fiancé’s here fingerfucking you!

“Gonna cum,” you muttered out a little too loud.

“What was that?”

“Gonna.. mmph.. Gonna come out so- sooghn.”

Your knees buckled, for once he allowed it, and you buried your face onto the crook of his neck. His fingers continued to thrust in the perfect rhythm, fucking back in the arousal that’s slowly dripping down. You weren’t shy in grinding back down onto his palm, neither were you shy when you came all over his fingers, the remnants left in an embarrassing pool down your trousers. His thumb tickled your clitoris, making sure the sensitive nub deserved all the pleasure it could get as he watched you crumble. Everything was just how you remembered it. Sinful, warm, and helpless.

“Okay.. I’ll go look for Joel in the backyard shed!”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel miller #tlou x reader #tlou fic #tw dubcon

[serene-sun]

hi sirius!!! congrats on the followers & thank you in advance for indulging my whore hours, Arcturus with 37 & 40 :)

Arcturus ★ Swiss ghoul

37: “Can I call you bunny?”

40: size kink

𝕭𝖚𝖓𝖓𝖞 🐇

Swiss x reader

18+ NSFW CONTENT

A/n: plz reblog and give me ur thoughts!

“Oh? You like that bunny?” A large ghoul says, a hand holding your head extremely close to the big knotted base of Swiss’s cock.

His other hand holding his phone, his arm tense and making his veins pop as his whole body feel incredibly high off of the way your pretty doe eyes look up at him. Swiss’s eyes are like melted sugar, his sweat caramelizing his delicious grey skin with a chocolatey undertone. His eyes squeeze shut, feeling your fingers caress his heavy balls.

“Fuck- you little-“ he’s cut off by his own groan, “ah~”

All Swiss hears is your angel voice say some muffled sentence under his aching cock.

“You’re lucky I don’t bend you over and fuck you face first into a pillow, naughty girl.” Swiss’s voice is raspy and tangy with venom.

His cock getting hard in your mouth, the heat, feeling his heartbeat on your tongue. Then the precum oozes out of his cock, it tastes delicious. With all of that awarding praise, a mouthful of warm cum awaits which you always swallow and love the taste of.

Swiss is a strong and thick ghoul, his voice is sturdy and his touch is perfect, but he can’t help that he’s a bit sensitive where his swollen tip meets the rest of his length.

His cock is so warm and fitting, a mouth full for sure. His knees lock and he tightens his grip on your hair.

At this point, the camera on Swiss’s phone might not even be focusing on you. From how blissed out he is, how beautiful his moans sound.

He sounds like a siren singing a song, you are infact past dead if not dying again. He’s just so huge, so thick, so much to swallow. You feel his hard tip jamming against the back of your throat, probably leaving purple bruises.

“Bunny can you take my knot this way?” He tries to calm down, catching his knot against your red lips.

You don’t care, you might choke or gag, you might even throw up at how big he has chubbed up inside of your hot and wet cavern.

You nod.

Swiss begins to fuck into you, moving his hips to meet your chin.

You can’t breathe.

It’s too much, your nose is now up against his abdomen and your hands can’t help but find themselves grabbing and clawing at his lower back as he goes ruthless on you.

Without any warning, his knot passes your lips, a hard stretch that makes your whole body shake. It leaves tears rolling down your cheeks and your eye brows furrow.

Your cheeks match the dusty shade of red on his tip as he pulls out quickly.

You whimper

“Why did he pull out?” You think, but the amount of hot white liquid squirting onto your face is answering your question.

You’re blinded now, all senses burned away, all thoughts focused on your now covered face.

“M~ sorry bunny..” he apologized with a shaky voice, “I didn’t want to hurt you any more that I already did.”

Oh dear…you can’t even see his face because when you look up all your met with is his milking cock…blocking all sight…

#serene sun nocontext #the band ghost #serene sun spice time #serene sun mutuals #ghost band #serene sun writes #the band ghost x reader #nameless ghouls x reader #nameless ghouls #ghost band fic #swiss ghoul #swiss ghoul x reader #serene sun 400 event #the band ghost smut

[alwaysonthemend]

Author's Note: This fic is inspired by a conversation I had with @jakeyt and I am delighted to share some dom Jake with you all. The entire premise of this fic is all from @jakeyt 's beautiful mind so you all have her to thank for this. Sorry for any typos/mistakes

Warnings: rough sex, unprotected sex, p in v sex, pussy slapping (no I'm not ashamed) extreme edging, thoughts of using safe word. 18+ only MINORS DNI

Word Count: 4189

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He’s like a different person up there on stage. Gone is the stoicism. Gone is the quiet. Up there, he’s nothing less than a rock god – shredding on his guitar and dripping with talent and sex. He’s a master of his craft. And the thing is, he knows that he is. He knows what he’s doing – causing so many thousands of thighs to clench and hearts to race. And he gets off on it. 

This was something that you discovered quickly after beginning your relationship with Jake. You’d always assumed that he was quiet – bashful even at times. But all that goes away the moment he steps foot in front of a crowd. Fleeting glances towards the big screen displaying his lewd movements and faces to thousands proves to you that he knows (and enjoys) what he’s doing. 

You’d be a liar if you said you don’t enjoy it too. Seeing him so confident, so sure in his abilities and sex appeal, sets a fire between your legs like nothing else. 

Tonight is a little different though. When normally before a show he’s touchy and excited – pressing eager kisses to your lips and eyes sparkling with excitement... tonight had been nothing but stony silence before he went out. You’d been arguing all day – something petty and childish that the both of you had blown way out of proportion, trading passive aggressive remarks and glances all day. You’re not even sure how it started at this point. 

And now you could see first hand how all that frustration had built up inside of him. He’s acting feral up there and the crowd is going absolutely insane. 

From your place on side stage, you can clearly see that he’s working himself up as he plays – something that he so often does. Tiny little shifts of his hips against the guitar… never enough to draw suspicion. But you know. You know him. And you know what his face looks like when he’s turned on. 

There isn’t much longer left of the show and you can tell that he’s wound tight as a drum. His hair, once brushed and glossy, now lies stringy and messy the way it is after the two of you fuck. His face and chest are flushed and beads of sweat drip down his face onto his chest and stomach. He’s sweat completely through his jacket and fuck that just turns you on even more. He’s giving it all he’s got – leaving everything out on that stage. 

Just as his second to last solo ends, his brows furrow and he glances back towards his tech. You squint your eyes, trying to see what’s the matter. He yells something to the tech but you can’t hear anything over Danny’s drums. 

Finally you see what the problem is after he yanks his guitar strap over his head, a singular guitar string swinging helplessly beneath it. He snapped a string. 

Unconsciously, your thighs squeeze together again. He’s going to be pissed. You can see it on his face already. And that means trouble for you… the most delicious type of trouble. 

As if sensing your arousal, Jake’s eyes snap to you and track the movement. As his eyes pan upwards to meet yours, the look that he gives you is just nasty. Unbridled anger and lust all mixed together in a dangerous cocktail. 

His tech brings him his number two in seconds and he looks away, able to carry on as if nothing happened – you doubt many in the crowd even noticed. But Jake is pissed. You can see it in his face and in the way he tears into the next song with reckless abandon. 

And now, you can see that he’s hard in his pants. His thrusts into his guitar are more bold, sliding his length against the poor instrument. Anger, you’ve found, so often bleeds into desperate arousal for Jake. He’s always pent up after a show – getting off on the way he’s affecting his fans. But anger morphs into something damn near animalistic in your normally sweet boyfriend. And as much as you hate for things to go wrong for him, you can’t help the excitement thrumming through your body at the thought of what’s to come.

-⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️-

He meets you in the green room afterwards. He’s drenched in sweat and practically seething as he enters the room to find you waiting for him. His eyes pin you to the spot, rendering you unable to do anything but stand there and wait for him to tell you what he wants. Fear and lust swirl around inside you as you wait for him to speak. 

He shifts on his feet, subtly adjusting himself in his pants. 

“Go back to the hotel and wait for me.” His voice is low and cold – sharp as he directs you. 

“W-what?” That takes you off guard. You’ve fucked in dressing rooms, green rooms, and bathrooms after shows. And when you do go back to your hotel room (which isn’t often as he can rarely wait that long) he goes with you. This is uncharted territory, 

“I said,” he bites out venomously, “go back to the hotel and wait.”

You nod, ungluing your feet from the floor and slowly making your way to the door. His eyes follow you, not moving away from you once as you slide past him out into the hallway. He makes no move to follow you as you walk away and by the time you’ve left the venue and gotten in an Uber to take you back, confusion has replaced the need that you’d been feeling all day.

When you finally arrive, you trudge your way to the elevator and hit the button, thoughts anxiously racing as you try and wrack your brains to figure out what made him act so differently tonight. Shaking your head from your thoughts, you exit the elevator and walk to your door. You pull out your key card and step inside, immediately toeing off your shoes and tossing your purse and jacket onto your bedside table. 

You’re not sure what to do. He’d given you no indication as to how long he’d be and you don’t want to piss him off any more than he already is. You strip from your clothes and change into nothing but an old t-shirt of Jake’s and slip under the covers, content to wait for his return.  

Minutes turn into an hour. 

That hour turns into two. 

And two turns into two and a half and you're worried that he’s not going to come back at all. He’d been pent up, sure. But maybe he was angrier at you than you had thought. That plus his guitar string snapping probably had him alight with rage. 

Sighing, you reach over and turn off the light and sink further into the covers, allowing your tiredness and defeat to pull you into sleep. 

-⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️-

The lamp turning on drags you back into consciousness. You sit up, rubbing your eyes and mumbling out a confused noise as you try and figure out what’s going on. 

As the spiderwebs leave your sleep-addled brain, you finally see Jake standing next to the bed. His suit is gone and he’s wearing nothing but tight black boxers. His face is angry and determined, looking down at you in thinly veiled frustration and lust. 

“Jake?" You ask, sitting up further in the bed. “Where the fuck were you? I was worried!” You scold him, your own frustration bleeding into your tone. 

“So worried you fell asleep?” He fires back in a snarky tone. 

You roll your eyes and go to lay back down but he grabs your wrist and yanks you back upwards harshly. 

“Jake!” You yell, taken aback by his roughness with you. 

“That’s not my name tonight, angel.” He says darkly, eyes glittering in the dim lamplight. “Understand?” 

“Yes sir.” You squeak out. You sweep your eyes downward and finally see what lays clenched in his other hand. 

A guitar string. 

Your eyes widen at the sight and your heart begins to pound. He notices the line of your gaze and smirks. 

“My two most beloved things in the world decided to piss me the fuck off tonight.” He starts, releasing your wrist and delicately caressing your cheek with his fingertips. “Which means that I have to ask you a very important question.” He hedges, hooking your chin with his index finger and turning your face upwards towards him. 

“What’s your question?” You ask in a tiny voice, afraid to push him any further than he already is. 

“Do you remember your safe word, angel?” 

“Gibson, sir.” 

“Good girl. Take your shirt off.”

You concede, ripping the material over and off your head and tossing it somewhere in the room. 

Jake takes another step towards the bed and grabs your wrists, effortlessly manhandling them so that your arms are above your head. 

“Hold still.” He tells you, and you obediently keep your arms where he put them as he pulls his hand away. 

Taking the guitar string, Jake loops it around both your wrists in a figure eight, cinching the cord tightly so that your wrists are pressed together. 

“Too tight?” 

You shake your head, slick beginning to flood between your thighs at the feeling of being bound. Jake loops the other end of the string around the headboard and pulls, causing the muscles in your arms to extend completely as he ties the string. He takes a step back to survey his work. The sight of you, arms completely extended and bound above your head, draws a groan from between his plush lips. 

“I’ve got one rule for you tonight, angel.” He says, walking around the bed and making his way to his suitcase. He unzips it and begins rifling through his things. “You don’t get to cum until I say. If I decide that you’ve earned it.”

You nod again and watch as he finds what he’s looking for. The quietest of gasps escapes you as he holds up his prize. He clicks the button and your vibrator hums to life. You thought you’d concealed it from him. The last time you’d come along on tour with him, he’d taken a particular liking to teasing you with it, and you’d hidden it in the hopes that he’d forget about it. Clearly, you’d been very mistaken. 

“Thought you hid this from me didn’t you?” He asks, stalking back towards the bed like a lion seeking out its prey. You squirm, anticipation filling you. 

“How did-”

“Did I find it?” He interrupts, crawling into the bed and settling himself between your legs. “You seem to forget..” He slides the vibrating toy up your inner thigh, building up the tension within you. “I know you too well, sweet girl. And I’m not letting you get off that easily.”

Without warning, he presses the toy onto your throbbing clit and the sudden sensation has you arching up off the bed and moaning loudly. 

“Fuck!” You cry, eyes screwing shut at the overwhelming sensation. 

Mercilessly, Jake begins to circle your clit with the vibrator, pressing into your bundle of nerves with relentless focus and attention. 

“All fucking day you’ve been testing my patience.” His voice is low – almost a growl, as he speaks to you. “It’s like you enjoy pushing my buttons any chance you get.” 

“You were being dramatic.” You manage to say between moans, and Jake’s eyes blaze with anger as he presses the toy harder into your clit. 

“That’s how you wanna play, angel?”

You don’t answer, overwhelmed by the white hot pleasure coursing through you. 

“Answer.” He tells you, circling the toy faster. 

You can’t. The feeling of the vibrations on your clit as he circles the toy is too much for your body to handle and any coherent thoughts have long since flown out the window. You open your mouth – to answer his question or to tell him that you’re close, you’re not sure. But as soon as you open your mouth to speak, a loud high-pitched cry escapes you instead. You’re on the edge, so so close to falling over. You need it… badly. You’ve been wanting it all day. Deciding to test your luck, you stay silent as you reach the crest of orgasm. 

Crack

The sting between your legs makes a loud, pornographic moan bubble up from your throat as Jake slaps his palm against your throbbing cunt. He didn’t slap you overly hard, but hard enough to leave you dazed. You stare at him, mouth hung open in shock. 

“You think I can’t tell when you’re about to cum?” Jake’s voice is ice cold and dangerous, causing you to gulp as he glares at you. “Remember, angel: I know you. And I told you not to cum without me telling you to.” 

“I’m sorry, sir.” You say meekly. And you are. The look in his eye is damn near sinister. 

“Not good enough.” He says, tossing the toy to the side. 

You can tell by the look on his face and the sound of his voice that you’ve really fucked up now, and you’re quick to try and remedy the situation. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Jake.” The apologies spew from your lips like prayers and you barely even register what you’re saying – your second mistake of the night. 

“Strike two.” 

Crack 

This time, the blow is a little harder, causing tears to prick the corners of your eyes. 

“That’s not my name tonight, as I already told you earlier.” He shakes his head, and you could cry at the disappointment covering his face. Directing his attention downwards, Jake eyes the mess between your thighs. “You like this, don’t you? When I treat you like the little whore that you are?”

“Yes sir, I do.” You whine, wriggling your hips in the hopes that it will entice him to give you what you want. 

“Look at you.” He swipes the pad of his finger through your dripping folds, humming appreciatively. “Your pussy is dripping.” 

“It’s all for you, sir.” You pant, shoulders beginning to ache after being suspended for so long. 

“You’re my little whore, aren’t you?” 

You nod your head vigorously. 

“I wanna spoil this pretty pink pussy so badly.” He says with sadness, as if he really is disheartened that he has to punish you. “But you’ve been such a terrible girl all day long, haven’t you?”

You don’t glorify him with an answer as one of his long, talented fingers finally enters you. He curls it upwards, brushing your g-spot and making you moan loudly. 

“You’re squeezing my fingers so tightly.” He tells you, adding another finger and curling it along with the other. 

You moan louder as he picks up his pace, fucking you with his fingers in the way that only he can. It’s like liquid fire is coursing through your veins – your entire world shrinking down to nothing but him and his fingers. His thumb presses into your clit and begins to rub tight circles, thrusting your body quickly back to the edge. 

“Sir...” You pant breathlessly, “I’m close.” 

“Already?” The smugness in his voice is obvious and the smile that graces his lips is cocky. He’s an arrogant little shit when it comes to how good he is with his fingers. 

“Such a shame.” He adds nonchalantly, pulling his fingers from you and wiping them on the sheets. 

You toss your head back and uselessly tug on your restraints. You’re wound so tight you feel like you could explode. 

“You’re shaking. Something wrong?” Jake asks, grinning from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas morning. 

“Jake- sir, please.” 

“Almost.” He says, shrugging his shoulders. “But not quite yet.” 

Without warning, Jake thrusts his fingers back into you, curling them deliciously and brushing your sweet spot with each movement. He’s watching your face, studying the way your expressions shift and  contort with each movement of his fingers. The wet sounds accompanying each movement are almost comically pornographic, but you’re far too gone to really notice. 

Without letting up with his fingers, Jake lowers his body down so that he’s resting his torso on the mattress between your legs. As soon as his hips touch the bed, he lets out a groan – no doubt enjoying the pressure on his cock. He’s edging himself too, you realize. Jake gets off on watching you, and you’re giving him the show of a lifetime with the way you’re moaning and crying with reckless abandon. 

Jake leans in and wraps his lips around your throbbing clit, suckling and swirling his tongue as his fingers continue to fuck into you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You wail, jerking your bound wrists and thrashing your head from side to side. 

He hums a laugh into your heat and the vibration is almost too much. 

“Fuck, stop! Please stop. I can’t!” 

Once again, Jake pulls away and allows you a moment to catch your breath. 

“Had enough yet?” Jake asks with a shit eating grin. “That’s how many orgasms that you haven’t gotten to have?”

“Three, sir.” Your voice is coarse and shaky, strained from the moans that he’s been pulling from you. You’re sweaty and exhausted, and the desperation and need to cum is reaching the point of being unbearable. 

“That’s right. Three orgasms that you could have had if you hadn’t been so terrible today. The first one,” he mutters while picking up the vibrator again, “was for our argument earlier. The second,” he clicks the button and the toy whirs to life again, “for your snarky little comments you’ve been throwing at me all day.” The toy hovers dangerously close to your clit, just barely not touching and you fight to hold still as your body wants to recoil from the inevitable overwhelming sensation. “Do you know what the third one is for?” 

You shake your head, focus still glued to how close the vibrator is to your swollen, abused clit. 

“No.” 

“You sure?” Jake asks, finally pressing the toy into you. 

You let out an agonized scream at the feeling. You’ve been on edge so long and the pleasure from earlier has morphed into a red hot need – dangerously close to bleeding into more pain than pleasure. 

“Your guitar string snapping?” You can barely get your mouth to form the words and you’re quickly nearing a threshold of desperation that you’ve never entered before. 

“Nope.” He says, popping the ‘p’ as he says the word. 

“Fuck I don’t know! I don’t know!” You yell, clenching your teeth as your legs begin to shake.

“Yes you do. Think back. And remember,” he presses the toy even harder and you’re beginning to debate whether or not you need to use your safeword. “I. Know. You.” 

You need to cum so badly and real tears are starting to stream down your face. It’s too much and not enough and the room is starting to turn black around the edges as you finally concede, the confession slipping past your lips in a broken, tiny little voice. 

“I made you mad on purpose.” 

Immediately, he brings the toy away from your cunt and clicks it off. 

“I know, angel.” He says, placing the toy on the mattress next to you and rubbing his palms up your thighs. “But I want to hear you say it again.”

“I made you mad on purpose.” You repeat, body thrumming with pent up lust and adrenalin. 

“Why did you piss me off on purpose, baby?” He asks, voice saccharine and deceivingly soft. 

“Because you’re so-” You cut yourself off, cheeks flaming with embarrassment. 

“Tell me.” He demands, digging his fingers into the plush skin of your thigh. 

“Because you’re sexy when you’re mad. And I wanted you to fuck me.” You finally spit out, shame flooding your body as you finally admit to having started this whole thing for the sake of getting a good fuck. It’s childish. You know it is. But sometimes the itch becomes so unbearable that you have to try and get it satisfied somehow. And making Jake angry is the quickest way to get what you want. 

Sensing your shift in mood, Jake smooths his palms over your thighs again, gently tracing circles into your skin with his calloused fingertips. 

“You know you can just ask, baby. You don’t have to piss me off to get it hard like this.” 

Emboldened by his comforting words, you give him the brattiest little smirk that you can muster. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

And just like, he slips back into his role. 

“What am I gonna do with you, angel?” He asks, reaching up to untie the guitar string from your wrists and the headboard. “Get on your fucking knees.” 

You scramble to comply, rising as quickly as you can despite your body’s protests, and settle onto your knees

“Hands behind your back.” He demands. 

You whine at his request but do it anyway. 

“Wanna touch you.” The sentence sounds desperate and needy as it leaves your mouth, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You need to cum. More than you ever had before and at this point you’ll do anything to get it. 

“Too bad.” He says, binding your wrists again so that they’re stuck behind your back. 

Jake yanks his boxers down and you can’t help but to stare as you finally get to see his cock for the first time tonight. He looks so hard – the skin red and shiny, and his tip glistens with precum. 

“You cum after me, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” 

He presses his palm into the middle of your back and pushes, effectively knocking you face first into the mattress. He grips your hips and yanks upwards, pressing your face farther into the mattress while your ass sticks up in the air. 

Finally, he sinks his length into you all the way to the hilt and the both of you moan loudly at the feeling.

“Fuck, you feel good.” He groans as he uses both hands to grip your ass in a bruising hold. 

Immediately, he’s slamming into you with so much force it’s all you can do to just lay there and take it. His groans are rough and deep and his hips slam into your thighs hard. Using his grip on you, he pulls your hips back to meet his thrusts, and the feeling is so overwhelmingly good and your mind is fogged over with your need for him. 

This was what you wanted. The pleasure that only he can give you. No man has ever been able to make you feel the way Jake makes you feel and you’re desperate for him all the damn time. 

With each pound of his hips, you let out a moan – so high-pitched and loud that you’d probably be embarrassed if you weren’t so lost to the pleasure.

“Jake…” You warn, your long awaited orgasm barrelling towards you at the speed of fucking sound. 

“I know, angel. I’m so close. Fuck.” He lets go of your hip with one hand and reaches around in front of you to rub frenzied circles against your clit. 

“Oh fuck. I’m so close. Please.” His voice is wrecked, breathless and broken as he falls apart. His pace hasn’t slowed, his stamina allowing him to keep slamming into you at a speed that’s making your head spin. The sound of his pleading – the neediness of it, has you so close to cumming you can taste it. His dominant side has completely bled away – just as it always does when he’s about to cum. 

“Do it, angel. Give it to me. Oh fuck!” 

You can’t stop it now. Your orgasm slams into you like a freight train – stealing the breath from your lungs as you completely fall apart. Distantly, you can hear his own sounds of release and you can feel him spill into you but it doesn’t register. It feels like it goes on for hours – wave upon wave of pleasure washing over you and drowning you in the feeling of release that you’d been denied for so long.

Like you’re watching it happen to someone else, you become aware of Jake delicately untying your hands and rubbing where your skin had become raw. 

He turns you over onto your back before collapsing onto you – allowing his body weight to settle on top of you. 

“Fuck.” He breathes into your ear, chest heaving and heart pounding.

“Mmmm.” You hum, closing your eyes and trying to come back to earth. 

“You okay?” He asks, swiping his sweaty hair from his face. 

You just hum at first, giving him as much of a smile as you can muster. 

“Fuck yeah.” You finally answer after your brain clears from the fog a little bit. 

“You’re a mess.” He says with a giggle, taking in your fucked out expression and glassy eyess. He literally fucked you stupid. 

“You still love me, though.” 

“Yeah I do, angel.”

------

if you're reading this, I love you! 💗

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#dee's writing #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka

[sleepingdeath-light]

capsaicin cookie smut hcs ; 18+

requested by ; qumau

fandom(s) ; cookie run

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; capsaicin cookie

outline ; “abt capsaicin cookie rite.. some nsfw?”

warning(s) ; descriptions of genitals, explicit sexual content, references to sadism and public sex acts, references to sharing the reader with other people

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

very dominant in the bedroom but is more of a playful dominant, using his superior strength to manhandle and toss you around to his heart’s content

is very very vocal and loud in the bedroom — both in regards to actual conversation and the sounds he makes (which primarily consist of moans and groans, especially when he’s close to his orgasm)

happy to go down on you but he gives incredibly messy oral — like his lips, chin and even his eyelashes can end up being covered in your juices/release by the time he’s done

will overstimulate you because he won’t stop until he’s satisfied, pulling you back against him by your hips until you’re trembling and sobbing and your mind is blank beyond the recognition of your pain and pleasure

he’s kind of a walking space heater, so expect things to heat up in a very literal way when you’re having sex — like you’ll end up drenched in sweat and panting from more than just exertion

he has a lot of stamina and can easily go for several consecutive rounds with you — and he can last for a while per round

so expect to end up unable to walk the day after

celebratory sex is a must!

and so are pre-tournament quickies

and sex between training sessions

or consolation blowjobs if he messes up or loses

…

really he’ll take any opportunity to have sex with you, even making excuses to slip away randomly to have his way with you

he’s pretty average in length but he’s incredibly girthy so expect to be stretched to the brink of insanity and beyond

he isn’t shy about using his teeth in bed and will happily nip, bite, tease and mark you up during foreplay if you ask

loves parading you around when he’s gotten you especially cock drunk and will gloat about how good he is in bed and how hot you are as his partner

in a similar vein; will happily give/receive sex acts in front of others and he’s great at hiding it by distracting people in one way or another (or, if you’re as much of an exhibitionist as him, he’ll draw his competitors’ attention to you)

is a sadist but not extremely so — like he enjoys pain play but most of it usually consists of rougher playful sex rather than the calculated introduction of toys and such

is incredibly confident in his body and would enjoy sending and receiving nudes

and with your permission he’d even show them to others to further gloat about how amazing and sexy you are

he mainly sends bulge pics and pictures of his abs — and his favourite pics to receive are ones where you’re not fully nude but still leaving little to the imagination

would also be eager to record any sex acts you do together if you let him

and would for sure have loads of videos and pictures of you ready for when you’re too busy to take care of him

videos of you giving each other oral (and pictures of your face and chest covered in his cum)

videos of his cock thrusting into your hole and stretching you out

videos of you two going at it everywhere you can in every position you can think off

doggy style in the changing rooms, against the wall in a public shower, mating press in the bed, missionary on the floor of your shared living room, the list goes on

oh and, of course, plenty of pictures of your face when you’re cock drunk and your hole leaking his cum after he pulls out

quickies are a must for him and, whilst he has the stamina to go on for what feels like for ever, they help him get in a better mood for fighting in a competitive setting

he says you’re his good luck charm — but you know he’s just really horny and doesn’t want to get a boner in front of the crowd

isn’t possessive but is romantically exclusive. like he’d let someone else fuck you under his instruction but they can’t do anything without him there — and they especially can’t kiss you

(both of his triple cone cup competitors have taken him up on this — with both claiming it’s for reasons other than what it was really for)

#sleepingdeath #minors dni #minors fuck off #smut headcanons #smut hcs #cookie run smut #crk smut #crk x reader #cookie run x reader #gender neutral reader #capsaicin cookie x reader #capsaicin cookie smut

[bi-lullaby]

So I really loved the PJO show. I wish we get a second season, and a fourth and so on all the way through heroes of olympus because it’s just so good. If you feel like reading my (NOT spoiler free) rambles:

- Percy’s loyalty and dedication to his mom is just so integral to his character and they RESPECT THAT.

- I really like what I’ve seen mentioned about how both casting wise and storyline changes wise there have been some adaptations that were less “lol lets change it” and more to connect better with today’s audience and cultural paradigm. Like Annabeth being blonde because of the stereotype of “the dumb blonde” that was so prevalent in the era the books were released versus her being Black showcasing the extreme undermining Black women go through instead, or Luke being less 00s/10s boyband boy looking and more tiktok softboy looking now, but also Sally being less 100% perfect and more active in the story and upbringing of Percy as both a hero and a demigod and Luke being less cool and detached and more… Sweet? Emotional?

- I did feel pretty meh about a few changes: Zeus immediately accepting that Kronos is scheming and is a threat (Ik they couldn’t know if they’ll get that far but it cuts the stakes of the third book by a lot if there’s no pressing time limit to get Artemis back to Olympus to convince the Gods into action if they’ve been Doing Stuff for two years now, and even the second book loses a little in regards to the behind-the-scenes political climate that leas to it being what it was). Luke going to every length not to kill Percy is such a 180° from the books it was a little jarring and I feel it cuts out how much of a Menace he was and how bitter/jealous he was of Percy. Like we could have seen their bonding and even Luke trying to recruit him but I’d still have liked to see the scorpion scene so the betrayal and anger and wariness Percy feels is that much deeper and bitter and personal like in the books.

- I’m of two minds about the entire Gabe arch. Like on one hand I do understand toning him down (including his demise) for the public’s intended audience, I even think it kinda goes along the adapting to new times by showing that the useless, insensitive, disrespectful aspect of a bad husband is harmful just as the “darker”, more explicitly abusive/exploitative and mean drunk book version, but on the other I feel like he had such an impact on Percy in the books (he’s literally the Oracle’s “mirage” for his prophecy, he thinks of his smell in tartarus), and I really had loved the line “you’ll fail to save what matters most in the end” coming true because Sally saves herself - although the post I’ve seen about his fate showcasing how his lack of respect was his doom did make me appreciate it a little more.

- The only castings (or maybe it was the directing and styling of them more so) that I can’t really get behind are Hades and Hephaestus. Hades felt like they were going for the Disney’s Hercules comedic relief one in a slightly toned down costume. None of the gravitas and intimidation, he didn’t feel like a god at any point. And Hephaestus was just… So different. He’s supposed to be a deeply secluded, antisocial, gruffy mechanic who’s self sequestered by his inventions and forges. The show version looked like an eccentric professor more than anything imo. Which I feel could be one modern retelling of Hephaestus in another series, but isn’t the one we had and, imo, doesn’t go as well with the rest of the vibe. Which is a shame bc I do feel like Timothy could have been used in a way that would work fantastically for those vibes.

- Lin Manuel Miranda’s, acting actually shocked me. I never really had a Hamilton phase but I am on tumblr so I was expecting something cringe and honestly, I thought it was good (and to bring it back to Hades: Hermes in sweats and a hoodie actually gave me the feeling of “this is merely a cover to a deep well of power” than Hades in his suit and dark colors ever did)

- Meanwhile, perfect Ares casting. Yes this man is beefing with (and losing to) 12yos but he’s also an ancient force that revels in bloodshed and carnage.

- Annabeth from the show encapsulates the character so well while also bringing her own notes to it. Like as time went on back in my peak pjo days I felt she got “Hermionified” by the fandom too much? And I lost sight of how fond I was of her but the show (and having reread the books) really rekindled that and made me remember why she is a force to be reckoned with and also someone that must be protected at all costs. I cannot express enough how much my fondness was reignited.

- Like I feel this could be a whole post but basically I feel the books showcase the “ideal” characteristics the gods and their kids could have versus how they wind up twisted into something else (Percy’s sea-like indomitable spirit vs several of his brethren’s ruthlessness and disregard for what’s good) and Annabeth feels like, beyond amassing knowledge for it’s sake… She wants to actually Learn, and in the show maybe even to a deeper degree than in the books and it is endearing and very enthralling.

- On that note, Leah, Walker… This is supposed to be a SLOWburn goddamit. Like in the books you can see where it’s headed but in the show they have such silly crushes I can barelyy stand it. My children.

- Speaking of Walker that kid IS Percy like you cannot convince me otherwise. Disney farmed him for this role.

- I actually really loved Poseidon having a british accent? Idk, something about england and nautical exploration and it feeling older and more… Powerful? Like the ocean

- And Zeus had all the “I’m the god amongst kings and king amongst gods” that I’d have expected from him. He was crackling with power and that was beautiful to see. What a tragic loss.

- Grover is my precious child (although I do wish we had gotten the silly, goat like details of him like eating cans and making the bleating noises). And since the last book I finished rereading was the Battle of the Labyrinth (where I cried like a baby at Pan’s death) watching this sweetheart getting all excited with his literal flower searches license? Made me wanna weep.

- Overall most of my criticisms that came to mind besides the alterations I cited came from being hushed because of too few eps and those being too short. Really really hope the next season (fingers crossed) we’ll get like, 15+ eps (and/or at least longer eps) so we can really sink into the meat and potatoes of it all.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo show #my thoughts #text #spoilers #pjo spoilers

[crushon5sosss]

Can I please request a smut with Calum where the reader wears glasses and always takes them off during sex, but one day Calum encourages the reader to keep the glasses on and he cums on the reader’s face because he finds the glasses extremely sexy?

you always make sure to take your glasses off when you have sex with calum because you feel like they get in the way. but something calum never told u was that he thinks you’re even sexier when you’re wearing your glasses as opposed to without. his mind goes to dirty places, and one day he decides to make it a reality.

you guys are lying on the bed, cuddling, and calum starts rubbing your thighs and chest, and he starts kissing you everywhere. you grab his face to kiss his lips, reaching to take your glasses off but he grabs your wrist. “wait. can you leave them on?”

“why?” you ask innocently, not knowing about all calum’s fantasies.

“you just look so hot with your glasses,” calum says with a shy smile.

“okay,” you giggle, “i guess it’s no problem.”

so you continue kissing, still wearing your glasses and then you crawl down so you’re at calum’s torso, rubbing his bulge over his sweats. it was so hot, you couldn’t wait to feel how hard he was inside you. but calum wanted something else first.

“wanna suck my dick, pretty girl?” he asks.

“yes please,” you say, pulling his sweats down and pulling his dick out. you lick slowly up and down and calum strokes your hair.

“good job, baby…just like that,” he moans, staring at you. seeing you suck him off with your glasses on was just as hot as he thought it would be. he pulls two handfuls of your hair into ponytails and hold them up for you to keep your hair out of your face as you bob your head up and down his length. tears are streaming down your face, and you’re gagging and moaning and jacking off what you can’t fit in your mouth. “love seeing my baby like this, love slutting you out.you take my cock so well.”

you pull your mouth away from calum’s dick and say, “daddy, i want you to fuck me.”

your words turn him on so much and he replies, “okay, baby doll, get on the bed, on your back so i can see your pretty face.”

you blush and follow his orders, and wait for him to put his cock in. he teases you by resting his tip against your entrance and slipping his fingers in your mouth, letting you suck on them. “good girl,” he says. “ready for my cock?”

“yes daddy,” you moan, licking his fingers.

“you gonna take it like a good girl?”

“yes daddy, please, fuck me, i need you….i’m so wet for you, want your dick in me.”

pleased with your begging, calum pushes his dick inside you and starts pumping away. you moan and whine for him, grabbing at his arms. “daddy, you feel so good,” you moan, “fuck me harder!”

calum moves his hand up to your neck to choke you as he speeds up his pace, hitting all the right spots inside you. “good job, taking it well just like you promised,” he murmurs, stroking your leg and pulling it up over his shoulder. then he starts going deep and slow, making a pressure build up on your stomach. you can tell calum feels the same by the look on his face, and then suddenly he pulls out of you. he gets on his knees and kneels over you, jacking his cock desperately. “stay there,” he demands, “gonna cum on that pretty face.”

you nod and stick your tongue out for him and a few seconds later you feel his cum dripping all over your face, especially around your glasses.

once he’s done, you take the ruined glasses off and tackle calum down on the bed, giving him big kisses. “that was really hot,” you say.

“i knew it would be,” calum laughs. “i’ll have to fuck you with your glasses on more often.”

#5sos #5sos imagine #5sos smut #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin smut #calum 5sos #calum hood imagine #calum hood smut #luke 5sos #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings imagine #michael clifford smut #michael clifford imagine #michael 5sos

[ironmanfridgemagnet]

Sitting On The Shelf - Marcus White x Reader

Part 26 - Super Hot Store

SOTS Masterlist

"What Marcus, what do you know about this pallet?" Amy asked in frustration, sweat beading at the flat of her forehead and running down her face. The heat had been getting to everyone today, and while you could understand her annoyance, you didn't think it warranted being mad with Marcus.

You'd only just began your shift for the day, and you were already beginning to succumb to the heat. You couldn't escape it no matter where you went, and it seemed no one else could either.

"Are you asking 'cause I'm in charge of the Warehouse now? 'Cause you heard I'm in charge of the Warehouse now, right?" Marcus's gaze flickered between the two of you, fingers pulling at the fabric of the coveralls that flushed against his chest, a 'cloud 9' logo brandished across it.

He looked handsome, you wouldn't deny it. The navy blue coveralls made his eyes pop more then they usually did, and the pulled up sleeves that scrunched at his elbows made his arms look more muscular then usual, veins popping down the length of his forearms. Sweat beaded across his hairline, though it wasn't warm enough to slick to across his forehead, a sight you thought wouldn't be too bad in the eyes.

"I did. Yeah. A promotion with no raise. Well done." Amy brushed off Marcus's boast with the snappy comment, the bitter tone missed by Marcus over his beaming smile and genuine happiness.

"Well done, Marcus. I've always thought you'd work well in the work house." The comment brought a red tint to his already heated face, his smile dumpling at the kind words. You'd also always thought he'd look good in the warehouse uniform, but that note could be told to him another time.

"Thank you. It just goes to show you keep your head down, you do the work, get your thumb cut off, and agree not to sue, anything can happen." Amy didn't seem to find humour in Marcus's words, instead scoffing and turning back to look at the problem that sat melted in the middle of the dairy aisle.

You looked up at Marcus, "Okay. So you can clean this up?" If it was a smaller spill, you'd have happily taken a bucket and a mop and done it yourself, but the fact that a whole pallet was melting in the aisle? that seemed like too much work. Plus, it was probably  the warehouse's fault for leaving the pallet there anyway.

"I got a lot on my plate right now, y/n." He addressed his words at you, ignoring the burning gaze of a heat-ridden Amy that appeared to be trying to shoot lasers through the side of his head. "Uh, but sure, yeah, I'll take care of it. You know what they say, heavy is the head that wears the pants."

Amy, though relieved at the knowledge that Marcus would be dealing with the spill, rolled her eyes at his totally off the mark expression. The heat was really beginning to affect people, even the slightest comment setting Amy off. "Okay."

"It's Shakespeare. Maybe pick up a book once in a while." Stepping away from Amy's side, you squeezed Marcus's hand tightly in a notion of appreciation, quietly thanking him for his help before turning back to Amy, grabbing her hand and dragging her away from the scene before the warmth would, inevitably, make things worse.

————————————————————————

The jewellery counter, was extremely empty today due to the heat, so you were just sat on your phone, scrolling endlessly and occasionally replying to texts from Garrett about how cool Glenn's office was and how you should 'oh so come and join him' - until Amy stormed past, Jonah in her wake.

"What's going on? Guys? Where are you going?" You asked, stumbling out of your stool and already moving out from behind the jewellery counter in an attempt to follow along. Jonah grabbed your hand, cupping yours within his own, pulling you with him to catch up to Amy's quick pace.

"Marcus left the spill out despite saying he'd clean it up and some woman slipped on it. Now Amy's... furious for lack of a better word." Jonah rambled, still holding your hand to pull you with him through the warehouse doors. Turning to face you with a pointed gaze, he gripped your hand tighter, seemingly unnerved by the new territory of the warehouse under Marcus's iron fist."I'm telling you this heat is making us go crazy."

"Marcus, a customer just slipped on the spill." Amy spat out, ready for this conversation to be over with so she could continue to suffer in the heat somewhere far, far away from Marcus.

"Yeah, sorry, Ames. We'll get to it. We're all just pretty hot back here." You knew Marcus was trying his hardest; becoming warehouse manager was a whole new heap of responsibility that even he wasn't sure he was ready for. Many a late night conversation, curled up together on your couch had led you to believe he wasn't quite sure he was fit for the role - however, you doubted it would be long before he found his feet and found his place as a leader.

"Yeah, no, I get it. It's hot everywhere." Amy groaned, frustrated by the lack of action from the warehouse, when she'd only asked a simple taste of them.

"But, you did say you'd clean it up." You looked at the taller man hoping he'd understand where you were coming from if he couldn't find it in himself to empathise with Amy.

"Okay. Relax. There's no need for you two to get so emotional." Woah. Whatever face you pulled at his snarked words mustn't have been a pretty one, Marcus wincing at your reaction alone, the onslaught you knew would come from Amy not even begun yet.

"Emotional? Are we, are we getting emotional?" Amy asked, her voice raising with each word. Jonah only tightened his grip on your hand at the beginnings of the confrontation; unable to gage your reaction while standing by your side, but knowing that the raising of voices alone would begin to freak you out.

"Kind of?" Marcus was skating on thin ice, knowing he'd done something wrong from Amy's outburst and the hurt expression that had crossed your face, however, he couldn't quite pinpoint an exact thing he'd said or done that would quantify as bad.

"Okay, you know what? It's not a big deal. Just needs to get cleaned up. I'll have one of my guys do it." Amy sighed, throwing her arms out in exasperation and turning around, ready to head out of the warehouse and get on with her shift without having to deal with Marcus.

"Much apreesh." Marcus thanked, clapping his hands together as the three of you began to leave the warehouse, hoping that things would stay civil enough to get through the day. "Oh, and hey, Ames, smile. You'll live longer."

At first, you hadn't been sure you were hearing Marcus correctly. The words had slipped past his lips with such ease and carelessness, that you were sure he hadn't meant them. However, as you turned to face him once more, he appeared as he often did, the beginnings of a smile dimpling his cheeks, eyes flickering around to gauge the reaction of his words. Heat or not, Marcus had said what he had said, and he wasn't spluttering out an apology, which as far as you were concerned, meant he meant it.

Fuck.

"Did you just tell me to smile?" Amy seethed through clenched teeth. Marcus had far crossed a line now, and you were certain he wouldn't be able to redeem himself as the heat had fully consumed Amy.

"Yeah, you little sourpuss." He jeered, the rest of the warehouse crew seeming to muffle laughter at the nickname he'd given Amy.

As Amy stormed out of the warehouse, you stayed for a moment, simply looking at Marcus. His gaze didn't meet your own, however, once you turned to leave, Jonah's hand moved to your lower back, then he couldn't take his eyes off of you. Why was Jonah holding you like that?

Amy, still seething, ran up to the customer service counter that had no Garrett in its sights, and snatched the announcer off the counter and began yelling into it. "Attention, employees. Do not clean up the yogurt spill in Grocery. This is a Warehouse problem, and it will be cleaned up when they clean it up. Go to hell, Marcus."

As Amy snapped at yet another customer who was complaining about the heat, you couldn't help but hope Marcus was only acting out because of the heat. 

————————————————————————

As you, Amy, Jonah and Mateo stood around the spill, Amy continued to complain about Marcus's words, arms folded diligently across her chest. "I cannot believe he told me to smile!"

"Yeah. That's so out of line. I completely agree." Jonah nodded, folding his arms across his chest as he stared at the spillage before the four of you. Droplets of yoghurt continuously dripped down the side of the pallet, only adding to the mess the flooded beneath it, the smell intensifying with every moment it basked in the heat.

"Would it help if I just cleaned it up?" Mateo added, almost vibrating on the spot at the thought of the yoghurt sitting out, festering, until Marcus or one of his warehouse friends came to clean it. "Cause I really, really want to clean it up. Like, really."

"Do not touch this spill." Amy ordered Mateo with a sharp glare, pointing her finger at him, before walking off, away from the smell and you, Mateo and Jonah.

Staying by Mateo's side, trying to block out the smell of the spill, you continued to stare down at it; the three of your both entranced and disgusted by the warm, thick liquid and how quickly it had become a problem.

"Okay, leaving it to fester." Mateo rolled his eyes, leaning his weight slightly onto the mop as he stood staring at the spill that had been the centre of every problem so far today.

"You know what? Maybe, the heat is causing, like, a number of us to act in ways that seem a little, I don't know, uh, overboard." Jonah whispered, trying to avoid the ears of a particularly angry Amy and her fit of rage that was beginning to drag the whole store into its mix.

However, he easily failed, Amy turning around instantaneously, and storming back over to the three of you, a grimace covering her lips. "So what are you saying? We should let Marcus off the hook because it's hot?"

"Ames, it's too hot to function. Cut him some slack." You attempted at finding a middle ground; though you hadn't agreed with Marcus's out of line comment, you could sympathise with the fact it was hot as hell in the store today, and you wouldn't want to mop It up either. "Let Mateo do it. It'll get it over with, and we can all move on."

"Oh, shut up y/n. You only care because you're basically in love with him." You let out a gasp you couldn't hold in at Amy's snapped out words, an apology slipping quickly past her lips as a hand came to rest against her temple.

"Woah. No. No. It's just remembering that all of us are in the hot store, you know?" Jonah put his hands out between the two of you, acting as a mediator that you hadn't asked for in the argument that was over before it had begun. "Including me, Mateo, y/n, you."

"Yeah, I know, and we're staying cool as fucking cucumbers." You and Mateo stood there, mop still in his hand as he looked at you, raising his eyebrow as if to ask if he should just mop up the spill anyway, despite Amy's outburst less then 5 feet away from him as the smell got worse and worse.

"Mateo!" Amy snapped, Mateo halting his motions through the yoghurt mid wipe of the mop against the floor. "What is wrong with people today?"

————————————————————————

"Thank you both for agreeing to sit down. Uh, mistakes were made. Some things were said that I'm sure both parties regret." You'd managed to stage an intervention in the warehouse: Amy sat opposite Marcus across a table while you and Jonah stood at its side, acting as a middle ground in an attempt to help keep the peace.

Though you'd placed yourself on the side closest to Marcus, you had yet to meet his eyes, unsure of what to say or what to do. Things didn't have to be hard, it could be a very easy, adult conversation to share - however, with the ever increasing heat, you doubted that would happen anytime soon.

"She told me to go to hell. I'm Catholic. That's the worst place we can go." Marcus yelled, rolling his eyes and slumping back in his seat. The childlike behaviour was something you hoped you could attribute to the heat and the heat only, Marcus having never shown you this side of him before.

"Well, at least I didn't tell you to smile." Amy snapped back, leaning closer to him over the table as though to emphasise her words before retreating and slouching into her own chair, pushing herself far into it and far away from Marcus as she did so.

"What's wrong with that? You have a nice smile." Marcus scoffed, shrugging as he slouched down into his seat even further then what felt possible for the tall brunette. He seemed to be unaware of how his words didn't have the same meaning, nor effect, as he thought they had.

"I have an amazing smile. It lights up a room." Amy affirmed, anger raising in her words despite the compliment she was giving to herself. "But you don't tell me when to smile, Marcus. I will smile when I damn well please."

"Fine. I'm sorry if you felt offended. I just forgot how sensitive women can be."

"I can't believe this." You muttered, eyes rolling   into the back of your head, a hand running across your face as your turned away from him and faced Amy. Marcus looked at you, surprisingly hearing your quietly whispered words and his expression melted. It hadn't been his intention to upset you. Sure, he was fine with the odd comment slipping out to Amy, who's insistence he was frustrated with, but you? He'd never intended to upset you - in fact he'd been actively trying to refrain himself from thinking without speaking while you were around.

"Marcus, no." Jonah gasped, hand reaching out then retreating and covering his mouth as Amy's hands slammed down onto the table top.

"So now I'm sensitive. Well, how's this for sensitive, Marcus? I am writing you up." With the slam of her hands, she stood from her seat, chair scraping across the stone floor of the warehouse, the screeching sound echoing across the room.

"Uh-oh, guys. Miss Amy's writing my name on the board." Marcus's word's elicited a round of laughs from his fellow warehouse workers who had gathered at the commotion between Amy and Marcus and stood on watching: silent until now.

"Oh, you think that's funny?" Amy asked, raising her eyebrows pointedly at the man, his forehead now dripping with beads of sweat, his hair slick against his forehead - you couldn't tell at this point if it was the heat or Amy's burning gaze that was causing it.

"Yeah, 'cause you were being like an uptight teacher." Marcus laughed at himself, once again rolling his eyes and shuffling in his chair as the rest of the warehouse staff joined in, chuckling at Amy's increasing anger.

"What did we say about deescalating?" Jonah seethed through his teeth at Amy, heat flushing his cheek from what you hoped was the warm temperature of the warehouse and not in anger. Though you were sure you looked just as red-faced and sweaty as everyone else, you knew yours wasn't out of anger, though you couldn't entirely vouch for Jonah; him becoming increasingly more involved with the dispute.

"More like I'm your superior at a job you used to have, Marcus." Amy snapped, standing tall above the brunette who was slouched down in his chair. Puffing out her chest, she calmly, for the first time in a while, stated what she wanted to say to Marcus. "You're fired."

"You're firing me? For nothing?" Marcus asked, him too standing from his chair, picking up his bottle of water and readily unscrewing the lid.

"No, no, no, no, no, no. No! Let's back it up, okay? Uh, nobody is getting fired." Panicked, you attempted to salvage the situation; not quite sure Amy had the power to fire Marcus in the first place and not wanting him to not work here anymore. Flickering your gaze from Amy to Marcus, you addressed his words, head titled in confusion. "Also, it's not 'nothing' all right?"

"I think what happened was, maybe you said some things that tapped into kind of a gender/power matrix, so..." Jonah attempted to explain, though he was quickly cut off by a loud, obnoxious scoff from Marcus.

"Ugh, seriously, guys, you're being bigger bitches than Amy."

You froze as silence seemed to settle over the warehouse. You'd thought this whole argument had been silly in the first place, Marcus shouldn't have told Amy to smile, and she shouldn't have antagonised him. Though Marcus's was definitely the worse of the crimes, you'd have happily brushed it off as the insane temperatures and let it go. But now? Not only had he brought you and Jonah into this mess, he had referred to you, and two of the people you loved most in the world, as bitches. And for some reason, there was something about that, that just made you seethe and your blood boil.

Jonah gently pushed you behind him, shielding your body from any other insults Marcus decided to callously throw at you. "Marcus, you're fired."

————————————————————————

"Okay, so you may have heard that we had an incident. We had to let Marcus go." Amy announced, clipboard in hand as she stood in-front of the very full truck, that none of you were entirely qualified to unload. You weren't even sure you were aloud to be in the warehouse after you'd broken your leg using machinery there.

"What? Are you allowed to fire people?" Sandra asked the question that was on everyone's mind that you didn't want to risk asking lest Amy lash out. It had been a long day as is, and you were certain that one wrong word would set her off on another purge.

Though, luckily, you were far too busy sulking over the situation at hand to care, curled under Mateo's arm that was thrown loosely over your shoulder and holding you into his warmth against the cold, snowy wind that blew through the cracks and crevices of the truck.

"That's unclear. Probably. I don't know. He seemed to think so. Anyway, the rest of the Warehouse walked out in solidarity with him." Groans could be heard all around as it dawned on people what they had been brought here to do; though you couldn't think of any other reason you'd have been forced to gather in the warehouse loading dock. 

"Yeah. They're surprisingly loyal. Apparently he promised them he was ushering in a new era, so..." Jonah mused, not really aiming his words at anyone as he stared into the endless abyss that was the truck that needed to be unloaded.

Today was going to be a long day - not that is wasn't already - but with the addition of the heat and having to unload a truck without any training? You couldn't see it going well at all.

"Yeah, especially when considering he just became warehouse manager too. They care about him a lot." You muttered, aiming to respond to Jonah's train of though you doubted he heard your musing.

"So we are going to unload this truck." Amy finally confirmed, another chorus of groans echoing around the group gathered at the loading dock. It'd be no easy task with cloud 9's most competent of workers if they didn't have the training of a well-oiled machine, so how you were meant to do it at all had you baffled.

"Do we even know how to unload a truck? Because I came back here once when they were doing it, and it is very elaborate and choreographed. I mean, it was poppin'. It was hummin'. It was like boom! Boom! Shabam!Boom, boom! Alakazam! Sha-pow!" Mateo said, pulling away from you and dancing around the cramped loading dock as he spoke, enunciating each sound with some kind of corresponding action that you wouldn't be surprised to find only made sense to him.

"Guys, it's fine, okay? I've got the manual, so, you know, all we need, really, are two people throwing the truck, one pushing the line, one on bulk transition, two pulling pallets, three pre-pushing HBA, and one person bowling C and D." Jonah explained it with such confidence you started to believe there was a chance that you could get this done, however, you knew that working in the warehouse was much harder than It looked.

"Okay, so that sounds great. Let's do that!" Amy cheered looking out towards the unfortunate group in front of you, a smile curling onto her lips for the first time today. You were glad she was hopeful, however, as the rest of you were clearly not.

————————————————————————

With Sandra having broken the scanner a while ago you had been stood around talking to Mateo, occasionally alternating with Amy or Jonah to help carry boxes out of the truck. Now, more than ever, you were thankful for all the warehouse staff did - you surely couldn't do this everyday.

"Okay, guys. Good work. I know we're all tired, but we're getting there. We've only got, like, 200 more boxes." Amy's idea of motivation was not helping, the moral of the group had been squashed, trampled and��throughly wrung out since you had walked through the doors of the warehouse and out onto the loading dock.

"Y/n? You want to take this one?" Amy asked, walking over to swap places with you as you moved to reluctantly pick up the next box with Jonah.

"Happy too." You grimaced though your discomfort at the idea was clear in your speech. Nobody wanted to be here today, so you would do your part, but do it miserably if what you would do.

Walking into the depths of the truck, you flashed Jonah a tight lipped smile, not really feeling like talking and more like just getting on with the job at hand so you could go home and escape this unbearable heat. "Amy said you need to bend your knees this time."

You bent over to pick the box up from its bottom, Jonah following your actions. "Okay. Will you, can you guide me?" Jonah asked, his head peaking round the side of the box looking for the way out aimlessly behind you.

"Guide you? I'm walking backwards. You guide me." You snapped back, letting out a long deep sigh in an effort to compose yourself before looking around the box to meet Jonah's eyes, crinkled with concern. "I'm sorry, I think the heat is getting to me."

"It's okay," Jonah winked at you, only his eyes peering past the cardboard confines of the box you were carrying. "I know, but I can't, I can't see."

Deciding to stop asking for Jonah's help, you continued to shuffle out of the truck, picking up the pace as you went along and became more confident in your footing. The box was surprisingly lighter then others you'd been made to carry with Amy or Jonah's help, and it was easy to fall into a rhythm of movement after you'd repeated the motion so many times.

"Slow down! Slow down! Slow down!" Jonah shouted at you, though his warning was moments too late as your knees hit the back of the conveyer belt,  pressing you tightly against it and sending you flying across it and into Amy who stood at the other end. You and Amy flung into the pile of disregarded supplies, limbs becoming a mess between the boxes. Your arms and legs were flung across empty boxes, Amy's legs thrown over your stomach and one hand clamped around your wrist a little too tightly.

Groan and whined came from the pile that the pair of you had formed, both struggling to come to a stand amidst the mess of boxes and each other's limbs.

"Y/n! Amy! Oh, God, um oh, okay." Jonah reached out for your hand and tried to pull you to stand, your lack of trying to help leaving you firm in your place. If you had had the energy or the consciousness you'd have told him to leave you to die, however, you'd smacked your head against the floor at the collision, and you weren't entirely present - Jonah snapping his fingers in front of your face with little response, that urged Amy to shoot up despite her pain, and shake your shoulders.

"Guys, are you okay? Stand back. I'm gonna break through." Sandra proclaimed from behind the stack of boxes trapping her in the corner, a defeated sigh immediately escaping her as you assumed her attempt was futile. "Guys, I can't break through."

————————————————————————

"Good morning, sleepy head." Mateo mused, brushing your hair out of your eyes as you finally, fully came around in the warehouse, one ice pack placed against your head as another was pressed against your ribs.

"Mateo?" You groggily asked, looking around to find it was just you and him in the open space. "What's-"

"You're okay, sweetie. You just had a bit of a tumble back there." The pet name sounded weird slipping past his lips, but you elected to ignore it, instead focused on the more important matters at hand.

"Where's Amy? Is she okay?"

"We'll go find her, how's that sound?" Mateo pulled you to stand, your wordless nod all the confirmation he needed as he led you back towards the loading dock. This time, it was wide open, no truck preventing the cold, snowy, evening breeze from immediately soothing the warmth from your body.

"Breeze feels good." You heard Jonah say as you joined him and Amy at the now empty loading dock. Mateo leaving your side as you eased down onto the ledge of the dock, legs swinging in the open breeze.

"Y/n?" Amy asked, becoming aware of your silent presence at her side. "I told Mateo to keep watch on you."

"He did." You assured, reaching out to hold Amy's hand with a loving squeeze as she also held an ice pack against her head. "I was asking for you. Was worried."

"Well I'm fine. Are you?" At your silent nod, you leant into her touch, holding onto her hand as you leant your head against her shoulder, closing your eyes and revelling in the coldness. "I'm starting to feel like a normal person again. That heat was making me insane."

A comfortable silence fell over the three of you. Today had been hectic, and you were glad to finally have a moment of peace after all the events of today - especially after how much Marcus had wound the three of you up.

"Oh, shit." You gasped, eyes snapping open and head shooting up off of Amy's shoulder. Despite the dizzying effect it had on you, you span to face the other two, panic flooding across your features.

Realisation seemed to dawn on Amy at the same moment, a gasp slipping past her lips as she came to terms with todays events and what exactly had happened. "We fired Marcus."

————————————————————————

With the building finally back at its normal temperature - apparently with thanks to Glenn and Cheyenne - you, Jonah and Amy made your way back to the café to try and figure out what to do about Marcus. Seating yourself around one of the cramped, wooden tables, you tried to brainstorm ideas though to no avail: Amy and Jonah were completely exasperated from the days events and you were still concussed enough to not have fully coherent thoughts.

"I just totally lost it. I mean, I don't have the authority to fire Marcus." Amy sighed, her head falling between her hands as she leant into the tables support. Jonah brought a hand to your head, readjusting the ice pack while you clutched the other against your ribs.

"Should you be taking something for this?" Jonah muttered, eyeing up the ice packs suspiciously as though they would do nothing to aid your injuries. While you doubted it did anything in the realm of helping your concussion, it was definitely soothing the ache in your ribs. Realising he hadn't responded to Amy, he perked his head up. "Oh, yeah, no, we were, uh we were out of our minds."

"Ugh. We're gonna have to swallow our pride and beg him to come back." Amy seemed to shiver at the thought of it alone. "Marcus, who thinks drinking water is a scam."

"Marcus who thinks that reindeers aren't real." You added, laughing gently to yourself at the memory of him staring one down at Christmas.

"Marcus, who once said, "Bedsheets are for losers."" Amy continued, a smile curling onto her lips at the utter bizarreness of the situation. How had you ended up like this?

"Marcus who gives really good cuddles." The finally few words were lost on the other two who sat around the table, your concussion having you trailing off mid-thought and never really finishing your sentence out loud.

"And who's, um, coming here right now." Amy sprung from her seat to meet the tall brunette halfway; Jonah holding back to help you from your seat that had you slouching into him. His arm wrapped around your waist and hoisted you up, having you leaning into his side so he could carry your weight for you.

"Hey, Marcus, um, we need to talk." Confronting Marcus was unfortunately happening sooner rather than later.

"Totally. I am so sorry. I went for a drive, I cooled down a lot 'cause my car doesn't have doors, and I thought about today. And I said some things about both of you that were uncalled for. I think the heat must have gotten to me. I'm really sorry." He rushed out, not giving the chance for anyone to get anything in edge ways as he hoped to apologise before more bad news was thrown his way.

Only when he finished speaking and tore his gaze away from Amy's eyes did his land on you: curled into Jonah's side and gripping to him like you'd fall apart if you didn't. One ice pack pressed to your head while another was being held against your ribs. What could have possibly happened to you while he was gone? And why did he have the strangest feeling it had something to do with him?

"Well, um, today is your lucky day, because I haven't filed the paperwork yet. So I'm gonna let you off with a warning this time." Amy's surprise was evident, but thankfully brushed over by Marcus's excitement that he hadn't lost his job - not that he ever really had anyway - and the concern he held for you.

"That's big of you." Jonah gave a small smile before his eyes flickered over to you, scanning across your figure to make sure you were okay. Smiling up at him, you stood more independently, allowing him to keep his arm wrapped around you so you wouldn't have to hold up both ice packs yourself.

"Thank you. So we can just all come back to work?" Marcus attempted to clarify, hoping his actions - and the warehouse staffs support of them - hadn't cost anything more than a warning for him, and him alone. He was their leader after all, and he was supposed to be ushering in a 'new era' one that he hoped would be fair and just - and super fucking fun.

"Sure. Whatever."

"And then maybe we should grab dinner or something tonight. Just, like, to, you know, hash it all out so we can all be cool with each other." Marcus's eyes filtered over to you, his words focused mainly on you, trying to figure out if you were angry at him still - something he really didn't want. But the far off, glazed look in your eye suggested you had greater things to deal with then any residual anger you had towards him.

"That's probably not gonna happen." Amy sighed, quickly turning on her heel and heading off elsewhere into the store.

"We'll keep it open. We'll keep it open. Sure. Thank you guys." You let out a small smile at Marcus's words, his efforts as endearing as always. Maybe you were ready to address the situation.

Though Jonah was insisting on staying by your side, you ushered him away, promising that everything would be okay and that you'd be fine in his absence - and agreeing that if not, you'd send him a text, and he could be by your side in an instant.

"Take me home?" You hesitantly asked Marcus, who swooped to your side in an instant, wrapping an arm around your waist and holding the ice pack against your ribs with his hand. As he guided you out of the door.

You didn't care about the fact that you'd left your bag and coat in the break room, or that you were supposed to be angry at him, you could deal with some of that tomorrow. Right now, all you cared about was getting home; even if it was inside of Marcus's doorless car.

Inside the car was better. Your ice packs were left to melt inside of his cup holders, and the cool, night breeze replaced their cooling touch. Marcus quickly reversed out of his parking space, knowing the route to your apartment like the back of his hand, yet fearful that the 10 minute journey could either break or make whatever you two had going on.

"I forgive you."

"Wait, really?"

"But I'm still pissed." Though you could still feel a faint pounding against your head, you remembered the days events more clearly now, knowing it would be smarter to bring it up now, rather then sit through an awkward silence. "I don't think it's okay you told Amy to smile, or that you called me - and her and Jonah - a bitch. But I understand the heat was getting to everyone. Please, just be more mindful of your words, Marcus."

Marcus nodded solemnly at your words. He'd already spent a lot of today reflecting on what he'd done, and you bringing it up felt like a punch to the gut. One he couldn't deny he deserved.

"You're an angel, you know that?" Marcus shook his head, putting the car into park outside your apartment building and turning to face you though not meeting your eyes, fingers fiddling with the gear stick. "Too good for this world, I think."

Laughing you unbuckled your seatbelt, stumbling from the car and letting Marcus chase after you as you headed to the buildings door. Though you promised him, and Jonah, you'd tell them if you needed help, you pushed his hands away, assuring you could do it by yourself despite your shaking legs.

"I'm going to let you walk me to my apartment. Not because I need the help." You assured, pointing a finger in what you hoped was the direction of his smiling face. "But because you look incredibly handsome in those coveralls and I want to look at you for a little while longer."

Marcus couldn't tell if it was the concussion or you actually talking, however he accepted the compliment with a gracious smile and continued your journey up the stairs. "And I'm still pissed at you!"

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☆: .｡. Tag List .｡.:☆ @write-from-the-heart @despicablylara @whatafreakingloser @flowercrowns-goodvibes @millieb-3199 @lolawassad @catarina-trouxa @falsegodofmischief @thepurplebutterflythings @littleboysmile @sibsteria @quinn-7007 @aashy723 @maeisonline @lizziel1410

Want to be added to the taglist? send an ask to let me know <3

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Hey guys!! Sorry for the late upload, I've had a very hectic day. My flight home (I was very briefly out of the country) got delayed because lightening was striking near the airport. But I'm home safe now!!

I hope you enjoy this weeks chapter, cause I'd did !! Genuinely loved writing a bit of drama between Marcus and y/n and there will be some more to come at some point 😧

Look out for next weeks part as it's a big one!! As always, have a lovely week!! <3333

#sitting on the shelf marcus white x reader #superstore x reader #superstore imagine #cloud 9 #marcus white #marcus white x reader #marcus superstore #marcus white imagine #superstore marcus imagine #superstore marcus x reader

[albatris]

wait wait wait Time Out what do you MEAN Alex is usually an honorary human. Is he just so zen that the garble doesn't usually activate anything for him? Or does the plot just not call for him to go monstery

ooh, thank you for the question!

ya, Alex is affectionately referred to as an honourary human hahaha! to most not-actively-malevolent human main characters, Nat is considered Friendly and Vampire, so while he's definitely chill to be around he's absolutely not human-like and is obviously Something Else. on the other hand, Alex is considered Friendly and.......... then people get a little confused and tripped-up and just kind of go "I mean, he's not TECHNICALLY human but, like, close enough, right? this is basically a human person. calling this guy a vampire is just semantics at this point" much to Alex's self-loathing dismay

like, oh, Alex would love to be human! Alex would like nothing more! but Alex has spent most of its time as a vampire in varying states of misery and mental torment lamenting how that's impossible

forcibly assigned human by friends

but yes, while Nat has no qualms with setting himself apart from his human friends in this way and being A Vampire, Alex has a very different relationship to its own sense of humanity it's a huuuuge relief for Alex to be even playfully recognised by its human friends as Honourary Fellow Human ;-;

as for your theories, it's a little bit of both!

first off, yes, Alex simply Is That Zen :3

well, "zen" as well as "stubborn as all hell, ridiculously strong-willed, full of spite, and 100% willing and able to tell the Garble to shove it"

Alex is by far the most ""human"" of the main vamps, and easily the safest to be around! it is a kind-hearted but insanely stubborn motherfucker. Alex has mastered the art of giving the Garble juuuuust enough of what it wants so that Alex can stay safe and be safe to be around, while also routinely telling the Garble to go fuck itself. Alex is well-practiced at resisting the Garble's influence and absolutely WILL not be bullied into doing anything it doesn't want to do

while it's a proven fact that vampires tend not to die of starvation often because it eventually gets to a point where they Physically Can't Resist doing murders, Alex could absolutely manage it. and has attempted to! and only didn't because of Quinn

but yes, Alex has worked very hard to be as in-control as it is :3 Alex can easily (dicey choice of words.... it's easy but getting to the point where it's easy was not easy) appear human in basically all circumstances except for staggeringly extreme levels of stress or starvation, and even in those circumstances - Alex will experience involuntary physical changes it can't hide such as fangs and claws, but is still highly resistant to the Garble's mind-manipulatey hypnotising properties

(so, an Alex in EXTREME peril might look a bit more vampiric and scary, but maintains a frankly absurd level of self-control, so. still not a lot to worry about tbh)

for reference, the length of time vampires can go in between proper feedings varies from vamp to vamp, but three weeks is considered reaaaaally fuckin uncomfortable and risky in terms of losing control. Alex routinely goes around five weeks without breaking a sweat

like. as a result, the Garble is not particularly fond of Alex, but Alex very purposefully stays juuuuust inside the boundary of what the Garble considers "still worth keeping alive"

so uhhhhhhh. hm. what was I saying. ah. the Garble activates for Alex under the same circumstances it will activate for any vampire, but Alex is much better at both controlling its own emotions and keeping stress levels manageable so as not to trigger the Garble to a degree it can't handle, as well as better at directing what the Garble energy will do to its body

so, while for most vampires, the physical effects of the Garble are largely involuntary, Alex is excellent at directing Garble energy to present itself in much more subtle and easy-to-hide ways such as sharpened molars rather than canines, etc.

even Zeke, who is kind of famous for her uncanny ability to spot even vampires who are extremely skilled at hiding their vampirism, doesn't twig that Alex is a vampire until it flat-out tells her, and even then it takes her a while to actually believe it lmao

when Alex does need to bust out fangs and claws or other vampiric traits, this is a conscious decision rather than a Reflex like it is for other vamps

we only get to see any involuntary vampire Alex three times over the trilogy! once in a flashback during a period of extreme starvation, once when protecting Quinn from Monster Mode Nat (Quinn was not in danger, Alex had just not seen Monster Mode Nat before and FLIPPED out), and once during the final confrontation against the Garble :3 Alex is very impressive!!!

and........... well, the plot probably DOES call for Alex to go monstery, but Alex really really really reaaaally doesn't want to do that and going monstery causes it a lot of distress. so its friends are always willing to do their best to find other ways around things if Alex is uncomfortable

if a situation comes up where a monstery Alex might be helpful, they will wait until Alex offers or suggests this itself. occasionally shenanigans call for humans and vamps to both to be doing different things as part of a plan, so occasionally Alex accompanies Nat, but also isn't questioned at all if it decides to stick with the humans

everyone is very willing to accommodate! friends don't let friends put their mental health and emotional wellbeing in unnecessary peril <3

it's nice for Alex's mental health that its human friends are just sort of like "yeah you're a vampire but like. lmao. it doesn't count", and that they feel safe enough around it to relax and treat it as they would a fellow human. a complicated fellow human who occasionally viciously murders cruel violent irredeemable human predators, but also…… a fellow human nonetheless :)

thank you for coming to my ted talk :D

#also feel free to use either he/him or it/its for alex :3 both are ok! #but yeah. alex <3 #n there's also the fact of course that quinn is always watching out for alex :3 #which helps a little bit! #quinn wants alex to have as stress-free an existence as possible n its no skin off their back to offer #whatever resources alex needs or to put aside extra of the extra-fresh donated blood so alex doesn't need #to hunt so often #alex doesn't make them do that ofc. like. alex would still only hunt every month or so. quinn is just like #''pls alex this is so stressful I'm worried about your health :((( you have to look after yourself :((('' #quinn loves alex to bits #though tbf being friends with quinn is such an inherently fucking stressful experience sometimes so maybe it all just cancels out xD #like tbf. the Garble is equally as petty to Alex as alex is to the garble #alex doesn't heal as rapidly or as well as other vamps #plus due to the fact that alex feeds so infrequently it's sort of just. perpetually in a state of #mildly to severely painful hunger #so alex is not having fun with that of course but is still REALLY well-practiced at managing it #like i cannot stress enough that alex's threat level towards humans is basically 0% at all times #unless the human in question happens to be some absolute scum of the earth piece of irredeemable garbage that has escaped #all repercussions and consequences and accountability for their actions #and even then that's a process that takes weeks and weeks of careful planning and research #anyway. no more tag ramble. i'm going to sleeb #a rental car takes a left down rake street and disappears

[thorniest-rose]

BROOKE

lamb heart, put my hands around you!!!!!!

I am AGOG at the magNIFicence on display tbh. The sticky-sultry vibe of the summer, the simmering emotions as Daniel & Johnny navigate the new Them (the shifting goalposts of past violence and lust and rage), and all the feels/frots involved. Your parallel of Johnny and Kreese was expertly handled too, love the thoughtfulness you ascribe to the choking maneuver and all the trust/breaking of same the action implies.

I loved it all!! As dark as a wounded doe is forever an absolute fave and I completely love this addition to the series.

Thank you for all your hard work in bringing this deliciousness to life, and sharing it with all of us!!!

AHHH omg thank you so much!!!!! I've been meaning to write another fic set in that verse for SO LONG. I do have plans for an actual full-length sequel fic set over the summer when Daniel goes to Okinawa and the boys go through severe withdrawal because they've become really codependent and had been spending every moment of the day together for months. And then Daniel tells Johnny about Chozen and he explodes with jealousy and there's all this fallout (with a happy ending of course). So I really want to try to write that over the summer!!!

And yesss omg I really wanted to capture this hot, sticky, honeyed vibe in the entire fic. Like the boys are making out and they're sticking together because of their sweat, which heightens this feeling that they're melting together and becoming one person. Like they barely let each other breathe. Daniel is in Johnny's lap, his legs around him like a vice and their bare chests are pressed together, and Johnny's sucking claiming marks into Daniel's neck. And then when Johnny puts his hand around Daniel's neck and chokes him, the only oxygen Daniel's getting is the air Johnny breathes into his mouth. Like you're supposed to picture two snakes twining around each other and you don't know where one begins and the other ends. That's the image I had in mind!!!

And in terms of Johnny, yes, I loved the idea that he would hate being choked himself because of what Kreese did to him, it would just be too traumatic and he now hates not being in control. But being able to do it to Daniel becomes this healing act because he isn't doing it violently, he's doing it because Daniel belongs to him. He isn't throwing Daniel away, like Kreese did to him, he's putting a claim on him. It's like the act has been inverted and violence becomes passion. Besides, I'm always really interested in the thin boundary between violence and sex, and how one can easily cross over into the other. Something I love exploring in my lawrusso fics because it suits them so well.

Like @zerrah really astutely said in their comment that Johnny still feels like a bully in some ways and that's because I wanted their relationship to have shades of their previous dynamic. So not that Johnny is being cruel to Daniel or mistreating him as such, but there's still that frisson and tension between them. Their dynamic hasn't become soft just because it's turned romantic. So when they kiss it feels like they're devouring each other and when Johnny leaves hickeys on Daniel's neck it looks like he's been mauled by a wild animal. Whether they're fighting or fucking, it's just extremely intense between them. And it can go from Johnny making fun of Daniel to calling him his "pretty baby" like Daniel is his girlfriend but also still the kid who drove him absolutely fucking bananas before the tournament. They exist in this very visceral space in-between. Rough but tender is how I always describe them.

Thank you again for your lovely words, you're always so sweet about my fics!!! <33333

#asks #as dark as a wounded doe #lamb heart #my fics

[oceannkawaii]

Character Description

Character’s full name: Percival Payne

Reason or meaning of name: "pierce the sky"

Character’s nickname: Percy, Perc, Payne

Reason for nickname: short versions of his first name and he also just goes by his last name.

Birth date: 6/28/99

Physical appearance

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Age: 23

How old does he/she appear: 20

Weight: 120

Height: 5'9"

Body build: skinny

Shape of face: round

Eye color: blue/grey

Glasses or contacts: glasses & contacts

Skin tone: pale

Distinguishing marks: a good bit of tattoos on their arms and legs

Predominant features: they always have colored hair

Hair color: always changing. Natural is dirty brown/brown

Type of hair: thick and wavy/curly

Hairstyle: shoulder length hair

Overall attractiveness: they are hard on themselves so they'd say they're a 4.

Physical disabilities: they have a slight bad knee

Usual fashion of dress: whatever is comfy

Favorite outfit: hoodie and sweats

Jewelry or accessories: they like to wear wristbands and hats/beanies

-------------------------------------------------------

Personality

Good personality traits: extremely open heart, giving, compassionate

Bad personality traits: defensive, work obsessive, a bit too cocky

Mood character is most often in: energetic

Sense of humor: all over the place

Character’s greatest joy in life: making the people they care about smile

Character’s greatest fear: being alone

Why?: abandonment issues

What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil?: death of a loved one

Character is most at ease when: at home with a good book

Most ill at ease when: under a lot of stress

Enraged when: people talk bad about the ones they care about

Depressed or sad when: honestly depends on the day

Priorities:

Life philosophy: treat others how you want to be treated

Character’s soft spot: people that have been dealt shit hands in life

Is this soft spot obvious to others?: sometimes

Greatest strength: want to be there for others

Greatest vulnerability or weakness: how easily they can be set off

---------------‐------------------------------------------------------

Goals

Drives and motivations: want to always personally improve

------------------------------------------------------

Past

Hometown: Duncanville, TX

Type of childhood: good childhood

Pets: 3 dogs

Most important childhood memory: First concert in 8th grade

Why: they were front row and it was a borderline spiritual experience for them

Childhood hero: John Wayne

Dream job: actor

Education: high school

Religion: christian

Finances: comfortable

-------------------------------------------------------

Present

Current location: Texas

Currently living with: alone

Pets: 3 dogs

Religion: Christian

Occupation: lighting and sent producer for WWE

Finances: comfortable

Family

Mother: Alive

Relationship with her: decent

Father: alive

Relationship with him: strong

Siblings: 4

Relationship with them: strong

Spouse: none

Relationship with him/her: n/a

Children: none

Relationship with them: n/a

Other important family members: grandparents but they aren't alive

Favorites

Color: dark purple

Least favorite color: yellow

Music: any type

Food: sushi

Literature: psychological horror

Form of entertainment: concerts

Expressions: "and then there's that"

Mode of transportation: car

Most prized possession: rare painting they found being thrown out

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Habits

Hobbies: anything artsy

Plays a musical instrument? Yes. Uke, guitar, piano (kind of), and violin/fiddle

Plays a sport?: yes. They were on swim team and high school and still swim and compete when they can

How he/she would spend a rainy day: reading on the porch with a cup of coffee

Spending habits: they're pretty controlled with their money but do tend to want to spoil people

Smokes: yes. Vape and devils lettuce

Drinks: socially

Other drugs: no

What does he/she do too much of?: Smokes too much weed probably

What does he/she do too little of?: taking care of themselves

Extremely skilled at: anything to do with music or video production

Extremely unskilled at: anything extremely physical

Nervous tics: head scratching and leg bouncing

Usual body posture: if they fit, they'll sit.

Mannerisms: uses hands and body to talk a lot, very expressive, talks passionately

Peculiarities: will hyperfixate on certain topics, will just start dancing in place if they feel awkward

-------------------------------------------------------

Traits

Optimist or pessimist?: Optimist

Introvert or extrovert?: Introvert but an extrovert around friends

Daredevil or cautious?: more on the cautious side but can be a dare devil

Logical or emotional?: emotional

Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat?: organized chaos

Prefers working or relaxing?: work I relaxing to them

Confident or unsure of himself/herself?: unsure a lot of the times

Animal lover?: absolute animal lover

–-----------------------------------------------------

Self-perception

How he/she feels about himself/herself: Very self conscious of they're physical appearance and abilities except when it comes to their work

One word the character would use to describe self: Driven

What does the character consider his/her best personality trait?: huge heart

What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait?: being quick to get defensive.

What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic?: eyes and hair

What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic?: everything else

How does the character think others perceive him/her: they think most people like them at the very least

------------------------------------------------------

Relationships with others

Opinion of other people in general: always wants to see the best in people

Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others?: sometimss

Person character most hates: n/a

Best friend(s): n/a

Love interest(s): n/a

Person character goes to for advice: n/a

Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: n/a

Person character feels shy or awkward around: n/a

Person character openly admires: n/a

Person character secretly admires: n/a

Most important person in character’s life: Siblings