#he’s like that kid that’s always fucking around I’m talking about the kid that pours a bunch of random shit in a lunch tray and then EATS it

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.4

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3][Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]

Danny was sitting in the back, his backpack obnoxiously taking up the seat next to him, when the door to the lecture hall creaked open near silently.

“What are you in here for?” Danny asked the guy who crept into class. He sympathetically took his backpack off the Seat of Shame and allowed the guy to sit down. Funnily enough, they had the same hair and eye color.

“Gen Ed. Undecided. You?” The guy grunted quietly back.

“Environmental studies. I’m Danny.”

“Tim.”

With the implicit understanding of two people in a required class they could not give less than two fucks about, Tim and Danny tuned back into the lecture. When the class was assigned group work, Danny looked over to see Tim softly snoring, head slammed down on the table.

“Tim. Wake up, dude.” Danny poked his shoulder.

“Huh? Class over?”

“Nah, we got group work. Discussion board.”

“Oh shit, thanks for waking me up. Wanna team up?”

Danny shrugged. “Sure. We should aim to post it in the middle so the professor doesn’t read our answers to the class.”

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea. Any idea what we’re talking about?”

“Kind of?”

“Good enough for me.”

——

Tim Drake kept seeing Danny Fenton around on campus.

“Danny! Dude, what are you doing?”

Danny turned, gloved hands full of crumpled trash. “Picking up after the student population, apparently.”

“Didn’t think environmental studies was that serious.”

“Global warming is very serious, you jerk,” Danny smirked at him, crossing the grass to put the trash into the trash can. “Reduce, reuse, oil shouldn’t be spilled in water and all that.”

“Basic stuff,” Tim grinned. Nice, he basically had a friend past Bernard now!

They were friends, right?

“And yet humanity fails to comprehend it. Incredible. Incredibly stupid that is.”

“They get it. Major corporations just don’t care.”

Danny sighed. “True that. You on your way to your next class?” He took off his biodegradable gloves off (nitrile and nylon, baby!) and chucked them into the trash.

“I’ve got free time, actually. Prof cancelled for his daughter’s surgery.”

“Oh, shit, that’s rough! You wanna go downtown and join the strike?”

“A strike? What for?” Even as he asked, Tim hiked his bag higher onto his shoulder, ready to go. They fell into step as the two left campus.

“Apparently, Quillan Pharma was doing some shady shit at their manufacturing plants. I think it’s like killing kids, and pouring toxins into the ground.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. Oh! Poison Ivy’s gonna be there!”

Tim blinked. He casted a sideways look at Danny. Sure he’s been here long enough to know… but it couldn’t hurt to check. “You know she’s an eco-terrorist, right?”

“Okay, but like… people suck sometimes. And all she’s asking for is like don’t kill the planet. And she doesn’t do that whole mind control thing too much anymore! The Sirens are so cool. Plus, one of my best friends at home might actually kill me if I don’t try to get her autograph. Poison Ivy is like, Sam’s personal hero.”

Tim snickered. “Yeah, okay. Mind if one of my friends join? His name’s Bernard.”

“The more the merrier,” Danny nodded. “Ooo! Hot chocolate. Want some?”

Danny bought three drinks as Tim trailed behind, texting Bernard.

“He said yes.”

“Cool! We should meet up somewhere before the drinks get cold.”

Well, Danny got the autograph. Tim got a new friend, and Bernard got a drink from his crush.

——

“Oh, you’re the glowing dude that Batman always talks about!”

Danny blinked, eyes scanning the wing-like cape and the yellow emblem on the hero’s suit. Danny was indeed glowing, stars and nebulas freckling across neon green skin, and glowing hair the color of a white dwarf star, tinged with the blue from his ice core.

“I… have absolutely no idea who you are,” Danny lied, like a liar. He’s found a surprising niche of entertainment in messing with the local vigilantes and he’ll be damned if he missed this opportunity.

He heard a snicker from the comm lines as Red Robin visibly brushes it off.

“I’m Red Robin. Why are you picking up trash?”

“Picking up after you humans, apparently.”

The both of them blink, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu. A moment of awkward silence passed before they both shook it off.

“Are you here to help? No offense, but the track record for you people is terrible.” Danny strode over and grabbed a bag. He opened it, and shook it at Red Robin’s face. “See? Batarangs, these odd bird looking ones, the R’s. Seriously, pick up after yourselves!”

“Oh, woah, can we have these back?”

Danny yanked the bag back before Red Robin could get close. “Pay me. These were incredibly tedious to pick up. Especially the batarangs. I mean, I even found a whole bunch of old rusted ones in the middle of the bay. What did you do, dump an entire bag in there from the air?”

Red Robin sighed and took out a wad of cash, with tracking fluid all over it. Danny grimaced, smelling the odd scent on the money. “That’s not real cash. It smells off. Are you trying to give me counterfeits because you’re broke?”

Red Robin gaped, oddly offended. “No! They’re real!”

“Doesn’t smell like it. It’s stinkier than the trash. Go get the one with the money, the litterer. Tell him I’ll be back the next full moon. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” Danny grumbled, disappearing on the spot to watch Red Robin flounder with the stack of cash and the piles of dead bodies on the shore.

“What the fuck even is my life these days?” Red Robin wondered out loud, stuffing the cash back into his pocket. He looked over the plastic wrapped bodies and slumped, sighing.

Oddly enough, Danny felt a sense of sympathy. Well, he’s not getting paid for sympathy. He’s not getting paid at all tonight, actually. Danny flew off, plunging once more into the depths of the significantly cleaner waters, and used his ice to scoop out oil stains.

Danny glanced around and sighed. He had a lot of work to do.

——

“So you’re saying he’s like a werewolf mermaid fae child immortal god thing, right?”

Bruce grunted.

“B, what the hell are you smoking these days? You know drugs are bad, right? Do we need Superman to give you that PSA?” Jason snickered.

Tim, massaging his arms from having to haul an ungodly amount of dead bodies, grunted. He’s so similar to Bruce that it gave the people currently in the cave hives.

“He said full moon. I don’t think we can track him with regular stuff. The bugs kept shorting out.”

“Oh boy,” Dick sighed. “Don’t fall off the spiral cliff, Tim. You’ve got midterms to think about so no stalking the guy.”

“Yet,” Tim shot back, changing out of his suit.

Bruce grunted, setting aside a huge stack of cash.

#let Tim Drake go to college you cowards #he got his GED in this one boys #let Tim fucking age #danny phantom #batman #tim drake #dc x dp #dcxdp #dpxdc #danny the tired college student #bamf danny phantom #siren au??? #sea cryptic Danny #bro I had war flashbacks to discussion board group work #terrible why do I do this to myself #the batarangs in the middle of the bay was from when Bruce tried to kill the joker and himself #Danny: people just can’t clean up after themselves these days #sea cryptic! danny au

[lokischocolatefountain]

Warning || Men Like Me

Masterlist

Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: girth age gap, virgin!reader, eventual loss of virginity (not in this chapter), gratuitous descriptions of Joel Miller's body, somewhat creepy!Joel, fetishization of youth, dom!Joel, breaking and entering, playboy magazine, objectification, fingering, sexual discoveries. Word count: 6.2k Summary: Joel's warnings about what men like him would do to girls like you only makes you want him more. A/N: Back in the depths of hell again, you guys. Now this isn't the most depraved thing I've written by any means but it's up there. Come say hi in my chat or inbox, I'd love to talk. Keep a look out for follow up parts and pleeeeease give me comments. I am very very desperate.

Joel Miller was a bad man. That much he knew. 

Even as he fixed taps and renovated houses that were falling apart, he could see the blood on his hands. The very hands that packed lunches for Ellie snapped necks, pistol whipped men, stole from a starving child so he could feed his grown brother. But there were lows even he didn’t stoop down to. 

Not that he didn’t have the opportunity. Men always did. And in this world, opportunities had only tripled. Even the Boston QZ, as strict as it was, had an underground brothel. He knew Tess to frequent it and never asked questions. Sometimes she needed to bury her face between a good pair of thighs and wrap her lips around a pretty pussy, and this wasn’t something he could give her. There was a lot he couldn’t give her.

Being in Jackson should’ve civilized him. It did in many ways. He’d reverted to the southern gentleman with table manners. ‘Yes, Ma’am’ spilled out of his lips effortlessly when he spoke to women. He held the door for anyone walking in after him. He even went to Church– sorry, the multifaith house of worship–to help renovate. 

That was where his troubles began. 

There was no point in him going where people prayed. Being back in civilization did not erase his decades of disbelief in a cruel God who would take his baby and keep him on this accursed Earth. But he did because he was back to being a contractor and Tommy asked him to go fix up the pews instead of him. He didn’t have much time, being a new dad and all.

He was on his knees checking out the rotting wood and evaluating how much wood he’d need for building new ones when he was confronted by a pair of legs and a sweet voice. Yours. 

“Lemonade, Mister Miller?” 

He looked up, his eyes traveling up your legs, bare until he got to your knees where the hem of your flowery skirt sat. Pure, unblemished knees, never taken a fall, didn’t fucking creak, and never knelt before anyone but God. You looked down sweetly, eyes wide and innocent like a newborn cow. Everyone had a kind of darkness about them in this world. Everyone except the kids who didn’t know a world outside the insular walls of Jackson. And you, it turned out, even though you weren’t a kid.

He wiped his sweat off with the greasy rag he carried and looked up at you once again. You had a pitcher and an empty glass in your hands. A sweet smile on your lips and hair falling down your shoulders and reaching your breasts. A yellow ribbon sat in a bow where your neckline dipped between your breasts, adding to the innocence of your look.

“Yes please, Ma’am. Thank you,” he said, giving you a nod. Your pretty plush lips curled up, a giggle escaping them as you poured him a glass of lemonade. 

His hand brushed against yours as he accepted the glass, his hand too large to curl around it without making contact with you. You giggled again before retracting your hand and occupying it with adjusting your hair. 

“I’m younger than you, you know? Don’t have to call me Ma’am.” 

“Just being polite. Ma’am.” He took the glass to his lips, mindful to take only a small sip instead of downing it in desperation. Another adjustment to make when food was no longer a scarcity. Sweet, sour, and salty danced on his tongue before it glided down his throat. Just a sip refreshed him. And the sight of a nice girl didn’t hurt the cause either. 

It’d been so long since he had a nice refreshing glass of lemonade. Summers meant worse infestations of infected, not the barbecues, lemonades, and swimming of past. When surviving each hour was under threat, small luxuries like this became out of reach of even one’s dreams.

“Well, guess I should call you Sir then,” you said, leaning against the wall. You held the pitcher up to your chest and the tails of the ribbon on your chest dipped into it, the soft shiny yellow turning dark, tainted.

His mouth watered and fucking hell, it wasn’t the lemonade you just gave him. He took a sip of the drink and licked his lips, imagining how you’d taste if he wrapped his large hand around your neck and pressed his chapped lips to your plush ones. Better yet, if he held your legs apart and devoured you other pair of lips until you were leaking down his mouth. Would you call him Sir then? His cock twitched in his jeans as he pictured you bent over one of these pews, your skirt pushed up and his hand in your hair as he slid his cock in your hole. 

Jesus fucking Christ! What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Made the lemonade yourself?” He asked,  groaning as he managed to get himself back up on his feet. His knees creaked like the floorboards of the houses he renovated, but ultimately supported him as he stood. He towered over you, making you appear smaller, more fragile. 

“Depends. Do you like it?” 

“It’s wonderful, of course. Hot summer day like this…I really needed it,” he said, raising the glass up a little before taking another sip. 

“Well then yes, I did make it.”

He chuckled, feeling himself pulled in by your easy charisma. It was nice to have normal conversations like this once again. No agenda, no need for establishing himself as someone who wouldn’t hesitate to beat someone up if even mildly threatened. It was just…normal. 

“It’s very sweet, Ma’am. Like you I assume,” he added, mentally dusting off the part of his brain where he stored skills for conversing with pretty girls.

You laughed, holding your free hand up to your mouth to cover your lips that widened and revealed your teeth. 

“Is that the southern charm that I hear our townspeople talk about?” 

“They talk about my charm? I didn’t hear.” 

“Oh yes, they do… Joel Miller, charming pants off of everyone in town.”

“Pants? Well that’s disappointing. I was hoping I’d charmed some pretty skirts off.” 

“Lots of experience with that, Mister Miller?” you asked, sliding your hand over the soft fabric of the skirt of your dress. Such delicate fabric. He could fist the hem and give it one tug and it’d rip right off.

“More ‘n what you got for sure,” he said, loath to hint at how infrequent his encounters had become in the recent past. Tess died, he did a cross country hike with an annoying kid, he needed to maintain a good reputation in his new town. One buried after the other. Enough to leave a man with nothing but his fist and his imagination. He would kill for a fucking Playboy magazine. Literally. He’d killed for less.

“What do you know about how experienced I am?” 

“Been experiencing longer than you’ve been alive, Ma’am.” 

“Oh well. Nothing I can’t learn.” 

He laughed nervously and stuck his hand in his jeans pocket. Surely you couldn’t be flirting… Why would a young thing like this flirt with him? He was in his late fifties looking like mid sixties and you were… He didn’t know. Young.

“If you could teach me, Mister Miller. Give a girl some experience?”

“I’m sure you can find someone else.” 

“Oh. Not your type, am I?” you asked, and he deluded himself thinking you sounded disappointed. No chance. 

He didn’t have a type. Long time since he thought of frivolous shit like that. But you shouldn’t be his type. 

“There’s much more eligible men in town is what I’m saying,” he said, suddenly hesitant to lie. Lying had never been an issue for him. The right thing was to lie, say you weren’t his type so he wouldn’t cross lines. It’d been a long time since he did the right thing.

“I’ll be the decider of that,” you said with a shrug of your shoulder before taking the empty glass from him. “Have a good rest of the work day, Mister Miller.”

Later that night, he wrapped his fist around his cock in the privacy of his room. His mind flooded with images of you spread out for him, sweet lips and a sweeter pussy milking him. He couldn’t even recall the last time he was with a woman. It was Tess, of course. Sometime before she got thrown in FEDRA jail for the last time. Too fucking long ago.

Surely it was only because it’d been a long time since he got his dick wet. He’d never, in his entire life, pictured a woman so much younger spreading her legs for him. Sucking his cock. Crying out his name. How old was she even? Not past mid twenties for sure.

It was wrong, he knew, as white hot spend spurted out of his cock and covered his hand. A sour tang took over his mouth as the fog of unadulterated lust cleared up to reveal the ugliness in his head. He shuddered, feeling like something had crawled under his flesh. He hadn’t felt guilt like this in so long. 

Wrong, wrong, wrong. 

You weren’t even as old as his kid would be had she been alive. 

He’d known men like that back in the day. Grays in their hair and skin like old leather, but pretty young things old enough to be their daughter hanging off their arm. It was obvious that none of them kept these girls around for love or for their personality. It was always sex and the feeling of self-importance when a sweet young thing paid attention to balding heads, beer bellies and limp dicks that needed a blue pill to get up. 

Fucking disgusting. 

He began avoiding you whenever you happened to be in the same space. At the house of worship, the town clinic where you interned, trading days when people exchanged what they had for what they wanted. His eyes never met yours and he always quickly looked away when they stared too long at your uh…feminine features– pretty legs, cute ass, round tits. Where the fuck did you get sundresses anyway? Who kept that shit around in this world? 

He didn’t know that when he avoided you, you took note of him. When he took glances of your features, you memorized his for later in the night when you buried your head in your pillow and pushed your fingers inside your pussy to simulate what it must be like to be with a man. 

He was older. That much you knew from his grey hair, sun-damaged skin, and gait that exuded bone-deep weariness. You knew Tommy had just turned fifty. Hard to miss occasions that meant a free slice of cake from the canteen. Joel had to be in his mid-fifties at the very least. At first glance, he wasn’t what you’d consider handsome. There were younger men in town. Fit and muscular. Didn’t groan and scrunch up their faces when they got up. Didn’t have lines on their foreheads. No bags under their eyes. 

Yet there was something about Joel that was more entrancing. 

After your first meeting when you offered him lemonade, you made sure to visit under the guise of worship. You didn’t know much about religion and were conflicted about embracing a god. The only faith you had rested in your medical instruments and the medicines the town’s chemist concocted. But it was a nice place to meet people, to check on healing patients.

The visits were worth it for a glimpse of Joel’s large hands wrapped around his carpentry tools. When the sun was the hottest, he sometimes stripped down to his tank top, giving you a show better than any film played in the community theater. His broad back looked masculine enough in his flannel shirts. But you didn’t know desire like the first time you saw him in a white tank, showing off his muscular arms as sweat dripped down his tan skin.

When you pleasured yourself in your room, it took time, imagination, your fingers, and a lot of effort to make slick pool in your pussy. That day, all it took was the sight of Joel Miller working. You sat with your thighs pressed together, rubbing them against each other in the most inconspicuous little movements. 

Could it be blasphemy if the God who was supposedly orchestrating everything made this man take his shirt off in front of you?

It made no fucking sense. Joel was old. He looked like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed every goddamn day. He had been chewed up and spat out by whatever the fuck was outside Jackson these days. Hardened expressions, graying patchy beard, hands calloused from carpentry and decades of using weaponry. Features that only indicated a long life lived, not attractiveness.

You were supposed to be attracted to the soft, sweet ones like the guys in the worn out copies of romance stories that the previous inhabitant of your house stashed in the basement. Even his little brother would be a more reasonable target for your lust. Younger, taller, softer, head full of dark, silky hair with few grays. But you wanted Joel Miller with his rough graying beard that would prick your skin were you to cup his cheek like the women on the novel covers. 

Something about him just screamed Man. Something that none of the other guys in town had. There was nothing wrong with any of the other Jackson men, but none of them made you want to take the plunge and lose your virginity. It wasn’t the lack of offers, per se. You’d gotten looks from many eligible Jackson bachelors. You had drinks with a few of them. Dinner with fewer and shared a kiss with more than one. Alright, two. But anything beyond that had you trembling in anxiety. 

It wasn’t anything precious to you, virginity. But you’d waited so long. Focused so long only on survival and then helping to build this town and now training to become a doctor. Whatever passed for doctor these days. With all your life dedicated to everything but your love life, you simply had no experience. What if you messed up and they laughed? You knew anatomy, but that didn’t translate to practical stuff. What if you couldn’t make them feel good? You’d have to see the guy all the damn time in the small town. There would be no escaping the awkwardness.

Sure it was counterintuitive to keep pushing away sexual encounters because you had no experience. But you didn’t know what else to do. You were too old already to not have done anything. But each day that passed with you rejecting perfectly nice men meant you were getting even older for your first time. 

You didn’t know where Joel fit into your need for exploring your sexuality, but it didn’t hurt to stare. God knew everyone else in Jackson did. 

So you stared. Work with his carpentry tools. Riding on horseback into Jackson after patrol. Helping with the fucking sheep. Walking around with Tommy. Carrying his nephew around town. It should be inappropriate to be fantasizing about a man when he was doing something as innocent as carrying a baby. But seeing his large hand cradling the baby’s little head made you want to scream into your pillow and kick your legs. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” 

Your heart fluttered and you let out a nervous laugh at being caught. You smoothed out the wrinkles on your clothes just to make it look like you were alright. Unfortunately you were wearing a pair of fucking jeans. You didn’t even want to know how awkward you looked. 

“‘m alright, Mister Miller.” 

“Joel’s fine,” he said, rocking his nephew in his arms.

Oh fuck, his fucking arms!

“Oh I don’t know,” you said, fidgeting with a belt loop on your jeans. “Wouldn’t want to be impolite addressing you by your first name like that.”

He smiled, recalling your conversation from the house of worship when you called him Sir and had him fucking himself in the shower to the memory. “Ah. ‘cause I’m an old man,” he said, more as a reminder to himself to fucking behave. 

“You’re not that old…” you trailed, looking him over in a way that set fire to every inch of skin that you laid eyes on.

Behave, Miller. You’re out with your nephew. 

“That so?” he asked, eyebrow raised. 

“Mhmm. You don’t look a day over seventy.” 

He snorted, making Miles stir in his arms just a little. That stung a little. It shouldn’t. Your estimation of his age, whether you were serious or not, was reminder enough that he was too old to be lusting after you.

“Thanks. I’m actually eighty-two.” 

You giggled your pretty little giggle, lowering your gaze to the ground and looking back up only when it had turned into a wide grin. “How old are you actually?”

“Old. Fifty six.” 

“Fifty-six isn’t that old…” you trailed as you brought a hand up to his bicep. Joel gulped, praying to the non-existent God that you would stop before praying to the same God that you would keep your hand right there. God answered his second prayer. You squeezed, licked your lips and looked up at him with your doe eyes.

“Checking if the hardware is still working, Doctor?” 

“I’m not a doctor yet.” 

“When do you become one then? Ain’t no Harvard handing out medical degrees in this town.”

“Howard?” you asked, squinting at him. Ah, of course you didn’t know. Harvard didn’t mean the same thing to you. Now it was just like every other building in Boston. Run over by infected. These ones were just the nerdy kind with glasses on.

“That was a thing, too. But I said Harvard. They were big universities back then.”

“Ah. Did you go there?” You asked, with no malice or bite. Oh, bless your heart. No one expected a dummy like him to have gone to university at all, much less Harvard. No one in his family had gone. Sarah was meant to be the first.

“Yeah. Traded some oxy and threw molotovs at clickers in the campus.” 

You rewarded him with a giggle and that was incentive enough for him to keep going. “Guys like me didn’t get into Harvard. Or Howard. Didn’t even go to community college. I finished high school and got a job in construction.” 

“You didn’t go to uh…construction college?” You asked, cocking your head and raising an eyebrow as though testing out the term.

“No such thing. Well, there were civil engineering programs, but I just learned on the job.” 

“Like me.” 

“Guess so. I see you reading from all those fat medical books. But there’s no need to study any books in construction. ‘cept if you wanna be an engineer or architect or something, which I’m not.” 

“Maybe you should write one. We could all do with some knowledge from before. It’s important to document it, pass it on to Ellie and little Miles over there.” 

“I ain’t writing books, sweetheart. Don’t think I even remember how to write much. I’ll just keep to fixing things up in this town. So, if you need some help with your place…I’m happy to help.” It was the least he could do. Maybe as some kind of penance for having impure thoughts about you. Or as a fucked up trade for starring in the mental images he conjured to jack off in the shower.

“There is something, actually. But I don’t have anything to trade for, so I’ll wait until I do,” you said, clasping your hands behind your back and swaying in place in an endearing manner.

“Nonsense. You patched me up just last week. You’ve done enough for the town’s health to not have to trade for anything ever again.” 

“Well, no. That’s not how it should be… It’s people’s health. Can’t put a price on that.”

“Believe it or not, health had a steep price back in the day. Cost four thousand something just to give birth. Double that if they had to cut you open.” And that was just how much it cost when Sarah was born. He was sure it had only gone up by 2003. If he hadn’t worked his ass off, there was no way he could’ve escaped debt. It helped that his Ma and his then wife’s parents helped with childcare. Would’ve been even more expensive without that.

“Damn. I don’t know how much that is, since…y’know we don’t have money now. But that sounds like a big number. It shouldn’t cost anything just to be born.” 

“Tell me about it,” he said, shaking his head. “But listen. Anything you want fixed, I’ll help out. You can give me something later if you’re worried. I know Ellie’s always on the look for new books to read and you seem to have a lot of them.” 

“Nothing Ellie would like. Not like the special limited edition of Savage Starlight or anything. Just medical textbooks and romance novels.” 

“We could trade for the lemonade from that afternoon,” he insisted, desperate to do something for you. Take care of you as you took care of everyone who walked into the clinic be it papercuts or a fucking knife in their abdomen. 

“Alright. Trade for the lemonade it is then,” you said, giving in to his pressure.

“Now tell me. What d’ya need fixed?” 

⌘⌘⌘

It had been a few days since Joel promised to fix your shower for you. Each time he came by and rang your doorbell, you hid somewhere away from your windows. When he caught sight of you in public, you quickly walked away or engaged in conversation with someone else. You didn’t need shit fixed. Everything in your house was perfectly alright. Tommy and his guys had given the place a complete makeover just a couple months before Joel and Ellie arrived. 

You were no paragon of honesty, but you didn’t make lying a habit. There were a few white lies here and there and this was meant to be one of them. It just didn’t fucking hit you that if you lied to a contractor that your shower was broken, he would eventually come over to fucking fix it. All your desperate sex starved brain wanted that day was for Joel Miller to come use his tools in your room and flex those muscles while at it.

So invested were you in that particular fantasy that as you unwound after a long shift at the clinic, it was with Joel’s beefy arms in mind. You stood in front of your mirror, taking in your reflection. One of the magazines you’d found in a box under your bed laid open on the dressing table. Playboy. Entertainment for Men. Each had a scantily clad woman on the cover. And many more inside. 

You made comparisons to yourself and the woman in the center page of the issue.

She stood in front of a dressing table too, but much different from how you stood. Her legs were on either side of her dressing table chair and her hands on the top of it. Between her arms were breasts, big and round and with smooth skin. They didn’t have any marks on them like yours. No moles, no stretch marks. Just plain. And she just stood there, soft brown hair down, tickling the top of her breasts and her lips parted as she gazed at you. No, at the men she was meant to entertain in this men’s entertainment magazine. All she had on was panties that went high up to her flat belly that connected to high transparent socks.

You reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, wishing that you had something nicer like the woman on the cover of another one of the magazines. Bright red and showing off her breasts wonderfully, but pulled down to reveal almost everything. What was the point of a bra then if it didn’t cover or support anything? Entertainment, you decided. Men seemed to be very entertained by breasts. 

Many a man had stared at yours even though you had them behind layers of fabric unlike the naked women of the magazines. Many had conversations with them instead of your face. Some brushed up against them ‘accidentally’. Joel thought he was being covert, but you felt his brown eyes rove all over them. You thought maybe that he too would brush up against it sometime, but he never did. Maybe entertainment stopped at just looking, as in the magazines. 

You wondered if Joel sought out men’s entertainment magazines like this. He was from before everything went to shit, so it was very possible that he did. Did he like the women in these pages, sticking their asses out and looking through the pages at him? Would he be entertained if he saw you like this? 

You didn’t know that if you turned your head to your bedroom door, you would have your answer. Joel’s cock strained against his already tight jeans as he stood awestruck by your figure. He swallowed as you held on to the top of the chair and lifted your knees, one after the other and placed them on the plush seat. You arched your back, a little too much at first before reducing the curve. Your ass stuck out enticingly and he didn’t know whether to grab, squeeze, slap, or spread your cheeks apart and fuck your ass. 

He should leave. 

It was stupid of him to walk into your house with a box of plumbing tools to fix your shower when you hadn’t yet given him a date or time for it. Plus you were avoiding him. Running away with your little friends and picking up stuff to hide your face from his view. He was plenty sure that when he’d rung your doorbell, you weren’t always away from home. 

He should leave. 

Fixing the shower could wait. He could confront you some other day. 

But you were putting on such a pretty little show in nothing but your panties and he was only a man. A bad one. 

His boots stayed put on your hardwood floors as you enjoyed yourself in front of the mirror. You spread your knees and let your fingers between your thighs, eyes closed, lips parted and low whines escaping your lips in just a few minutes. He palmed his growing erection over his jeans, consequences of being caught be damned. He was a foul beast already. What bad was another sin on the list? Besides, you were the one who’d left the fucking door open. 

Your soft whimpers grew into moans as you brought yourself closer and he forced his feet to stay put despite their urge to walk up to you and give you something to really moan about. 

“Fuu– mmm Joel, pleeease.”

He let out a gasp, all his restraint flying out the window as soon as he heard his name from your lips. You couldn’t actually be doing this… There had to be another Joel in town. Younger, better looking, smarter.

Your voice grew needy and the pitch higher as you kept at it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Gimme it, Sir.” 

No, it couldn’t be anyone else. 

Joel toed his boots off and took quiet steps towards you, emboldened by the filth that spilled from your lips. If this old man was what you wanted, he wouldn’t stop himself from reaping the benefits. He wasn’t a goddamn saint. Never was. 

He stopped in front of you, surprised you still hadn’t sensed his presence. As though the universe heard his thoughts, it had you open your eyes. You gasped as soon as you saw him and buckled off the chair, but Joel caught you. You shuddered, unable to cope with the sudden touch. 

“J-Joel?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he said, touching your cheek with the back of his hand. You whined, your body molding itself against his chest. You brought a hand to his arm, feeling the rock hard muscles underneath his sleeves and your other hand worked between your legs.  

Your fingers no longer felt adequate as you felt his large fingers on your cheek. “Want you, please,” you whined, desperate to return to the edge where you had been right before you saw him. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me…” he spoke dangerously, soft brown eyes clouded with a kind of desire you had longed to see in him for weeks. 

“Want you…want you to be with me,” you repeated stupidly, your desperation clouding your senses too much for you to say anything else. While in the past you only wanted to get rid of your virginity, your goals had become more specific with his arrival. You wanted him. You wanted his big hands and broad shoulders, to hold on to them as you rode him. To watch his grumpy expressions turn to ecstasy under you. 

“Tell me not to touch you,” he said, his tone low and almost threatening. Any other threat from him, you would’ve heeded. But not this one. 

“Touch me!” 

It was as though something in him snapped at your words. While darkness only loomed over him before, it now completely took over.The hand that previously only caressed your cheek now wrapped itself around your neck. Before you could completely process the move, his other hand slapped yours away. He replaced two of your puny fingers with his middle finger, eliciting a strained moan from you. 

“Touching yourself to a Playboy magazine, huh?” 

You only nodded, unable to form words now that a fantasy of yours had finally come to life.

“Dirty little thing…Thought you were a nice girl and all. Helpin’ out at the clinic, head buried in books all the time. Turns out you actually got your head in dirty magazines.” 

You whined, your pussy clenching and gushing around his finger at the way he was speaking to you. The same man who insisted on calling you Ma’am despite your protests was calling you a dirty girl now. The veil of respectability seemed to have floated away at the sight of you naked and pleasuring yourself. Had you known that this was all you needed to get Joel Miller to touch you, you would’ve done it much sooner.

He added another finger, the girth of him enough to stretch you more than you had done for yourself. You brought a hand up to his shoulder and fisted his shirt, needing something to anchor yourself to. 

“You ever been taken by a man, sweetheart?” He asked, his tone too cool and casual for what he was doing to you. You shuddered, partly from his phrasing– taken, he said. Taken. Like you were a thing. Like the women in the magazines positioned so uncomfortably just so their breasts could look a certain way for the picture. Printed on the cover page with the words Entertainment for Men written on top. You shook your head, feeling small as you confessed it for the first time. 

“Any man?” 

“N-no,” you managed to breathe out, whimpering at the way the bulge beneath his jeans twitched at your simple answer. He took a step to position himself behind you, letting you lean your back against his chest. The angle at which he touched your pussy changed, opening your world up to a wonderful new kind of pleasure. 

“A virgin. Pretty young things like you ain’t for men like me,” he whispered in your neck, making you shiver. His thumb roamed between your legs as far as they could reach, caressed you gently, his softness with you contradicting his warning about men like him. The hand around your neck slithered down your torso, cold air forcing you to face your new desire of having your breath kept hostage. 

He took your left breast in hand, squeezing the flesh like someone starved would hold on to a piece of bread. It felt more like a punctuation to the warning he issued than a part of sex. Just then, his thumb between your legs stopped its search, stopping a little above the fingers inside you.

A moan you didn’t recognize as yours at first filled the room and you buckled forward. Blunt nails sunk into the flesh of your breast as he saved you before you could fall. He hauled you back up, making you collide against his chest. 

You gasped and quickly grabbed the hand between your legs, the sensation too intense for you to know what to do with. His thumb kept on, rolling over something there that set your person on fire. 

“Fuuuck! Joel– I– I– hnnng–”

“I know, sweetheart,” he crooned, keeping at whatever the hell he was doing to make you feel this way. 

“Please… I don’t– what was that?” 

You felt his chest rumble before you heard his laughter. Heat rose to your face and your throat felt strained though there was no hand around it anymore. 

“Never touched your clit? Do you even know what that is?” He mocked, the cruelty somehow not repelling you from him. He forced you to look up at him. Your heart lurched at how close you were to his face. You could see every gray hair, every minute blemish and line.

“Don’t know your own fucking body but you want a man? You don’t know what you’re handing me on a silver platter. I ain’t like the other guys in town. I walked across the fucking country and lemme tell ya, there’s no pretty things like you out there. I’m starved.” 

“Take me, then,” you begged, using his own words from earlier. “Please. Whatever you– a-aaah!” 

He ramped up the pressure on that spot– your clit– and with it, took your ability to speak coherently. It was as though he’d done it on purpose. You hated it. To be so bereft of control. To be a puppet in someone’s hand. For someone to acquaint themselves with parts of you that you didn’t know of. But it was too much to fight, so you let go. Let him play with you. Take you. Like a thing.

You renounced control of your lips too, his name slipping out effortlessly like it did when he caught you. Then you renounced what was left of your dignity and began begging relentlessly. For what, you didn’t know. In his hand, you’d gone from woman to pupper, your strings pulled by a man, your voice now his. Sounds that would be indiscernible from that of a wounded animal emanated from somewhere deep within you. 

Perhaps none of this was real. Why else did your own voice grow so distant from you? Why did your vision become blurry? Your thighs shook uncontrollably and your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. Your eyes clenched shut, depriving you of your blurred vision. Your toes curled. You wanted to shrink into yourself, shrink away from all this goodness. You went higher and higher, soaring like a bird. Every nerve ending in your body felt electrified, awoken like one switch turned on every light on last winter’s Christmas tree. 

You let out a loud cry, the soaring bird in you reaching its peak before beginning its fall to the ground. You could hear your breaths again, labored but doing everything to stabilize itself. Your thighs still shook. Your chest rose and fell. A hand caressed your hand. Behind you, something strong supported your back. Kept you from falling backward. 

“Joel…” 

“I know, I know…” he whispered into your head. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, surprised to see a softer visage. He picked you up off the chair like you’d seen him lift giant logs before. With ease. You didn’t protest as he carried you. Didn’t protest when he laid you out on your bed. 

He bent down and picked something up. No questions, no instructions. He simply spread your leg away from the other. Cold air touched the gushing mess dripping out of you and you shivered, feeling a sudden need to cover yourself but unable to defy him. His hand was on your pussy again. His hardened, calloused fingers behind a soft fabric this time. He wiped upwards, collecting the mess he made out of you. When he lifted the fabric up, you realized it was your panties. 

He tucked it into the pocket of his jeans and then looked back at your face, the intensity of his gaze making you want to run. Problem was your weak legs wouldn’t take you anywhere. You didn’t screw your eyes shut. You didn’t pull your blanket to conceal yourself. You looked back at him, defiant. Like you were trying to prove something. I can handle a man like you. 

“Be a good girl from now.” 

That and a condescending pat on your pussy and he was gone.

⌘

Part 2

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x oc #joel miller x original character #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller age gap #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #all that i've inflicted on the world

[sweetestdesire]

PRETTY ON FILM

WARNINGS: hair pulling, extreme domination, degrading speech, mentions of filming penetration, etc. 18+ readers only

PAIRING(S): Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Luke Hughes needs something to keep him satisfied when he’s away on roadies.

“Have you ever filmed yourself doing anything? Sexual, I mean.” Luke turned to face Y/N in bed, propped up on one elbow, hand supporting his head. She placed her phone on her stomach, letting out a quiet scoff.

“You mean like, a sex tape?” Luke nodded, and she shook her head. “You know that you’re the only one I’ve ever been with. Never made anything like that for you, have I?”

At this, he shrugged. “Not everything you do has to be for me. Could’ve been feeling sexy one night and filmed yourself fooling around when I was gone, who knows?” Luke teased, collapsing on his side and pulling her close to him.

“You know that I’d never. I’m too afraid of my iCloud getting hacked or something.” Y/N answered, picking her phone back up to continue her nightly scroll through TikTok. “Kinda random, though. Why are you asking? Planning something I don’t know about?”

“I’ve just been thinking that it would be so fucking hot to watch when I go on the road and feeling a little frustrated.” He whispered before placing a hand onto her cheek, his thumb stroking it gently. She kissed his lips gently, him smiling into the kiss before she pulled away.

“I don’t know, Luke.” Y/N told him hesitantly.

“Nothing we film will ever see the light of day. It will just be for us, baby, I promise.” Luke reassured her, moving to set the his phone down on the nightstand. “Don’t think you have to give me a yes or no answer right now. I figured it can be our next rainy day activity or something.”

Y/N laughed at Luke calling the activity of them possibly partaking in the filming of a sex tape with him a “rainy day activity.” “Okay, yeah, I’ll have to think about it.”

-

“Rain’s really coming down out there.” Luke commented one morning, looking out the window while taking a noisy sip out of his tea. Y/N hummed in acknowledgment, pouring herself a cup as well. He turned to face her, leaning back against the counter. “What should we do today?”

“Could always get some cleaning done. My allergies have been going crazy, think it wouldn’t kill us to do some dusting and vacuuming.” Y/N replied, pouring milk into her tea.

“What’s in it for me?” Luke asked, a mischievous tone present in his voice. She turned around to face him, hands tightly gripping her warm mug.

“What do you mean what’s in it for you? This is your apartment.” Y/N jokingly scolded.

“I’m kidding, Y/N.” He retorted, setting his mug down and walking over to envelop her in a hug. Her tea sloshed from the sudden movement and spilled onto the ground, causing her to let out a whine of Luke’s name.

“Luke.” Y/N groaned, setting her now dripping cup onto the counter. “See, looks like we do need to clean. We can start here.” She grabbed a handful of paper towels and handed them to him to clean up the small mess he made.

“Well, what’re we gonna do after? It’s not gonna take all day.” Luke remarked, bending down to wipe the floor. “I think I know what we can do.” He quickly stood back up, an excited look on his face.

“What’s that?” Y/N asked, already starting to move things from the counter to the dining room table so she could begin wiping it down.

“Remember a couple weeks ago what I told you we could save for a rainy day?” Luke gestured towards the window, where she could see the rain coming down so hard that it was difficult to even see outside. “How about we make a little film?”

“What’re you talking about?” Y/N replied, walking over to the sink and wetting the sponge. “What film?”

“You know.” Luke rocked back and forth on his heels. “The sex tape? You said you would think about it.”

Y/N faced him, propping her hand on her hip. “You’re still on that? Seriously, Luke?” She asked in disbelief, shaking her head at her absurdly horny boyfriend.

“Of course I’m still on it.” Luke flashed a cheeky smile. “I think that’d be the hottest thing we could do, what do you think?”

“Honestly haven’t given it much thought. I don’t think I’m totally against the idea, though.” Y/N set the sponge down now, growing more interested in the conversation with him. “I think it’ll be a lot of fun. Oh, and very hot.” She added, giggling at how Luke’s face was starting to turn red.

“I think we should get to it then, yeah?” Luke wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close so that her chest was pressed against his body.

“Go upstairs and get your camera ready.” Y/N whispered.

His face lit up and then dropped just as quick. “Don’t do this for me, baby, do it for you.” Luke whispered and she nodded.

“For me, for when you’re gone and I wish that I could have you. Go, hurry.” Y/N whispered seductively and at that, he quickly scampered up the stairs.

-

“My pretty girl, looking so ready for me.” Luke was standing near their shared bed, muscular thighs hidden behind a pair of sweatpants. “Gonna let me make a pretty little film with you?” His eyes had that typical glint to them, glistening in the soft light, clearly excited to fuck her with one hand wrapped around his phone. Y/N’s hands were fisting the covers, having to stop herself from touching her aching pussy.

Y/N nodded, but realized Luke didn’t see her, so she timidly answered him with a simple, “yes.” A chuckle rumbled through his chest, hand letting go of her body, shuffling out of his pants without taking the camera off her frame. Every desperate glance, every groan and whimper got perpetuated, making sure not to miss a thing.

“Need you to taste you, Luke.” Y/N replied shakily, looking down at his now hardening cock.

“Let’s get these clothes off you then.” Luke moved to stand between her slightly parted legs. “Arms up, c’mon.” She lifted her arms above her head, and she swiftly removed her shirt. She quickly unclasped her bra and tossed it behind her shoulder, now bare from the waist up.

“You have to take off your shirt, so I’m not alone.” Y/N told him, patting the space next to her at the end of the bed.

Luke nodded and sat beside her, clumsily removing his shirt as well. The sexual tension in the air was thick, and she felt a kind of vulnerability she’d never felt before.

“Feel like I’m about to have sex with you for this first time.” He told her quietly. “Think we should just go at it like we usually do?”

Y/N licked her lips, sliding off the bed and onto her knees in front of him. “I think that’s a great idea.” Without warning, she wrapped a hand around his length, giving him a couple sloppy pumps. He threw his head back, a blissed-out smile on his face.

Luke’s cock was rock hard, painfully hard as he’d call it, ready to be sheathed by her heat. Her nimble fingers reached for his cock, giving him the opportunity to film her pumping his aching cock, catching every second on tape. Silently, he prayed that he wouldn’t lose his focus, knowing that she would be able to sidetrack his thoughts, letting his phone tumble to the ground for him to grab her with both hands.

“Lay down, need to be inside of you.” Y/N gave into his calling, squealing as he grasped one ankle, forcing her legs off the mattress, placing them on his shoulders. A groan rumbled through Luke as he spit onto her pussy, the tip of his cock brushing through her folds to mix his saliva with her arousal. Effortlessly he pushed into her, filling her to the brim with one thrust.

The hand that kept holding the phone began to tremble, Luke had to force himself to keep on breathing, the sensation was all too much, too intense for him to thumb through his thoughts. So, he gave into the feeling, eyes fluttering close as he pulled out of her, only to snap his hips against hers over and over again.

“Fuck, right there, Luke.” His empty hand moved down her thigh, finding her pulsing clit as he tired to hit that spot again. Y/N arched her back as he began to circle her clit, watching in awe as her body gave into his touch, entranced by the man she called hers. The camera stayed focused on her pussy, recording his arousal covered cock, disappearing inside her with every thrust.

Y/N’s lips parted to moan as she clawed at the smooth skin of Luke’s chest while he pinned her beneath him, one of his hands squeezing at the dip of her waist while the other tried to steady the shaky hold he had on his phone.

“Fuck, just look at you, baby. Can barely keep those pretty eyes open.” Luke drawled as he felt pleasure rock through his body with the next wet connection of his hips against hers, and she was silently hoping his neighbors weren’t home with how loudly the bedframe seemed to be knocking against the wall with every one of her boyfriend’s thrusts.

Y/N let out a hiccuped moan of Luke’s name, a whispery, needy sound that had him smirking from behind the screen before he was looming closer, deliberately angling the blunt head of his cock to graze along the swollen spot inside of her just as he pointed the flash from his camera at her blissful expression.

Luke felt too good, but it was instinctive the way her palm came up to try and hide her face from the camera before she heard her him click his tongue, his free hand moving along her body to snatch gently at her wrist before he pinned it to the pillow beside her and started a pace that was a little faster than the last.

Y/N watched Luke bite his lip as his grin kept the same teasing curl as always, swallowing another low groan before the flash was finding her once more, and her eyes fluttered closed for a moment when she felt an all too familiar warmth twist in her abdomen as he pressed his cock into her.

“Oh? Didn’t think you were camera shy, baby. You gonna let me see those pretty faces you make on my cock?” Luke grunted again, letting the camera fall lower between their bodies until it was focusing on the mess of fluids that was smeared along her thighs and his, it only growing messier with every languid thrust.

Luke’s jaw clenched when he got a particularly good shot of his thick cock disappearing into her plush pussy, hissing a curse from between his teeth as the wet, squelching noises only grew louder while his balls smacked against her ass with each thrust, the sound so fucking loud Y/N was convinced he was trying to bury it into the walls instead of just his speaker.

Y/N blinked up at him when she felt like her eyes had adjusted to the usual dim lighting once more, finally meeting Luke’s gaze before another, dangerous sort of smirk was curling at the edges of his lips and she felt his fingers release her wrist in favor of tracing along her skin.

She felt him trail the teasing, featherlight touches lower before he was pressing his hand behind her thigh and pulling it up to let it hook around his shoulder. The new position only let him thrust his cock deeper into her already trembling walls, and Y/N felt something warm bursting along her thighs while her moans began to grow higher in pitch.

“Feels a bit selfish keeping you all for myself, you know. Maybe I’ll have to show the team how much of a fucking whore you are for my cock. All fucking mine, aren’t you?” Luke grunted, but it sounded needier this time as his lungs trembled on his next inhale, his hold on his phone wavering with the next squeeze of her walls along his cock. But he didn’t predict that he might be about to record himself losing his fucking mind in the intoxicating push and pull of her pussy.

Y/N was already mindless beneath him, but when the next place his fingers fell was between her thighs, it only took a few messy circles of her clit with two of his digits and a couple of languid, deep thrusts before she was stiffening, tight walls squeezing down eagerly around him.

“Why’d you stop?” Y/N asked heatedly, turning to look up at him.

“Don’t want you looking down. Want your pretty little face looking at this camera the whole time, think you can do that for me?” He asked, one of his hands squishing her cheeks together.

Y/N turned to face the camera again, so lost in how good Luke was making her feel that she’d completely forgotten that he was filming her. She nodded wordlessly as his grip on her cheeks loosened. Her pussy felt like it was trying to fucking milk him, it only pulling tighter every time he drew his hips back, trying to lure back in every inch she lost before he was burying it back inside of her.

“Eyes on me, baby.” Luke groaned, low and rugged and she knew he was desperately trying to keep a hold on the last string of his sanity, but her pussy felt so fucking good around him that he was considering getting this video put permanently on a loop in his mind.

Luke hissed through his teeth before he was focusing the camera on her face once more, his palm mercilessly pinning her hips to the bed before he was ruthlessly fucking her through her orgasm, every thrust unrelenting and he was only spurred on by the way she cried for him.

“Feels so good, my perfect girl. So tight for me.” Luke’s voice left her shuddering, eyes meeting his piercing ones. She already was too far gone, thoughts messy, forcing her to rely on him, to guide her through her arising high.

Y/N’s moans fell freely from her lips, making Luke smirk in delight, already excited about watching the video when he was far from home. His cock twitched as he gave into his thoughts, forcing himself to switch his focus back onto his moaning, trembling girl.

“Getting close.” Y/N said, struggling to even out your ragged breathing.

Luke’s wet his thumb in his mouth and brought it down in between their bodies, not slowing his thrusts as he rubbed at her clit. “Means I’m doing something right, wouldn’t you say?” He asked sarcastically, giving her a cheeky smile. She nodded, not trusting her shaky voice to answer him out loud. “Why don’t you cum for me, then? Let’s finish off this film.”

Y/N’s thighs twitched when she felt his thumb reach down to tease her puffy clit once more, every swipe shooting tiny aftershocks through her system as she thrashed below him, still so sensitive from her orgasm. Luke spread her thighs even wider before his thrusts were becoming sloppier, losing pace as he rocked into her, and she watched his head fall back to moan when she squeezed and trembled around the sensitive head of his cock.

“Cum with me, baby.” The thickness of his voice wrapped itself around her like smoke of a cigarette, trapping her in his embrace as her body followed him down the edge. Her orgasm rocked through her, buzzing in every vein, making itself comfortable in her system while he kept fucking into her.

Luke’s eyes were half lidded and dark when he blinked back down at her, peaks of his curls messier than usual as they fell along the light sheen of sweat along his forehead, framing the blush along his features before his lips parted to grind out another groan. Then it was hidden once more when the bright light from the flash clouded her vision and she felt his cock throb at the doe-eyed expression on her face.

“Let me see you make that pretty face for me again, baby.”

#luke hughes one shot #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes fic #luke hughes smut #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes #luke hughes x fem!reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #lh43 #new jersey devils #luke hughes oneshot

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

A/N: Small piece of filth, hope you enjoy ❤️

“Driving me crazy. Don’t know why you do that.” Another bit of babbling you-speak, poured out in waves, interwoven through your whines and moans, Steve notes. Or rather, tries to, given the predicament of being on his back as you use him to your satisfaction.

You’d stared him down like he was prey for the last several months, always shaking your head, clicking your pen until it broke. Then there were the signs that made Steve realize, with a lopsided smirk (that only made it worse), that you weren’t in fact mad at him, not in a serious way anyways. Your hitch in breath every inch closer that he came to you, the way you melted into him if he just brushed by you, or how your legs would tighten, feet would bounce, to the way that you’d chew on your fingertip when he was bent over putting stock out and he knew exactly what you were looking at. When he talked about dates or flirted with girls that came in, you’d roll your eyes and be obnoxious in the background to sabotage unknowingly, but he found it endearing. And when he bought himself his new diamond chain to go with his mustard colored shirt for the fancy dinner in Indianapolis the older kids had all gone to, your public exasperation is partially what led to the moment.

It wasn’t until the following Monday that it exploded in full. Steve was at work on your shift, you were dealing with a sore wrist after his ensemble at Saturday’s excursion. And the stupid bastard had the nerve to wear that blinged out piece of jewelry beneath his button up, all black polo. You slammed a stack of video tapes down and had blew out a rough breath, working your way around the counter to ask Steve ‘what the fuck his problem was?’ And in truth, he’d worn the chain again just to gauge your reaction, before making his move. Sure, you’d been close friends all up in emotional arms for years, but the sexual tension was more alive than ever and could no longer be ignored.

With one hand on his waist, the other propped on the counter, he grinned lazily at you, fresh highlights looking perfect with his grown out tresses under the cheap lighting, jeans tight on his toned legs and perfect ass.

“Oh my god, Steve! You’re just… You’re —“

“I’m what?” He’d said, folding his arms to accentuate his biceps.

Your jaw had dropped rather comically and Steve is pretty sure you whimpered in defeat. You were caught.

“You know what you are, shithead. And I can’t take this shit anymore, it’s too much!” You’d gotten closer, talking with your hands. How Steve loves your hands. And you gave pause, brows pinched. “Wait, is that new cologne?”

Steve had pulled his shirt out to bare thicker chest hair, shrugging. “No, same ol’ stuff.”

“Can you stop, please?” You had sounded completely out of it, your pupils blown, leaving your beautiful eye color a thin ring, nearly transparent to the aroused abyss he’d created.

“Tell me what I’m doing, honey. Can’t stop if I don’t know…” Steve reached out with a finger, his confidence having greatly improved the last year within your friendship, and he traced down your cheek.

“Oh, shit.” Was all you could come up with.

With his thumb pressing at the corner of your mouth, massive hand cradling your jaw, he’d unraveled the knot with, “It’s okay if you say you want me, baby. Because I want you, too.”

~*~

Your hand looks small in comparison to his large girth, shining with what you’d slicked him up in, your babbling from before, slowly fading. His mossy orbs have shattered, their shards prickling you in an electrical stimulation, on you everywhere. His massive hands pinch your plush waist, every tendon visible on his jugular, his throat contracting around a harsh swallow as your fist around his base meets your body - seating him fully inside you. It hurts so bad that you welcome him to see the tears, see the glistening mess of your cunt spread open around his cock, cream bubbling in his base and smeared across his happy trail. You’ve never felt this before, this power, this safety, this want, this love.

Steve tosses his head back as your hips give an experimental rise and fall, sweat soaked backs of your knees feeling the pressure. He’s inside of you so deeply that you can barely move, his length dragging, pushing against every inch of your walls. You’re overcome in the moment and grab his big paws, curling his thick digits around your breasts and holding them together as you begin to roll your hips, never taking your eyes off him. He let out a moan that vibrates through you, his bed beginning to squeak beneath your rocking. His neck is visible again at this, scars beneath the chain, sweat glittering around and beneath the links, every freckle, every mole there, making him Steve.

Your movements have briefly slowed and he realizes, eyes open as you’re staring with this smirk. He gives your nipples a flick and releases, linking hands, to bring yours to his and kiss each knuckle he can get his mouth on. That’s when he’s flipping you with ease, knees sliding underneath your thighs, hands pinning yours to the bed as his nose finds your lashes, mouth planting his words across your lips; cinnamon breath spray, coffee, and cigarettes ghosting with each hot breath, “Don’t get too cocky, honey.”

On the break away, his chain sways forward, links getting caught on your lips. You take the jewelry into your mouth, sucking on the taste of the material, Steve’s chest tufts drag along your breasts as he fucks you on him with an ease so slow, that you can’t find cohesive speech for the rest of the night.

// Eat me paragraph //

#kristenwrites #my work #my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things drabble #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic

[alwritey-aphrodite]

head first, fearless

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x single mom!reader

Warnings: swearing, motherhood

Word Count: 5.5k

Author’s Note: here she is!! I also have ideas for a little follow up if anyone’s interested! And a very big thank you to @sokkigarden for being so lovely and helping me so much with this one

Some days you’re convinced Keeley Jones was put on this Earth simply to make your life better. When you’d moved next door to her five years ago, you never would have thought that the brightly dressed, brightly smiling woman would become one of your closest friends and your go-to babysitter.

It didn’t matter if it was a Wednesday or a Saturday, twelve in the afternoon or twelve at night, Keeley would take five-year-old Stella into her home with open arms and a bright smile.

“Anything you need, babes, I’m always here,” she’d told you the very first time you’d asked her to babysit at the last minute with tears in your eyes, and you’ve come to learn that she meant it.

So today, when you received a call from your boss at nine in the morning on a Saturday, you didn’t think twice before bringing Stella next door. Stella was settled on your hip, chattering away about how excited she is to see Keeley and all the fun things they’ll do together while you knocked on the door.

“You aren’t Keeley,” you say, confusion clouding your face at the man in front of you. He seems vaguely familiar to you, like you’d met in passing before, but you couldn’t place him.

“Jesus, Jamie,” you hear a voice from behind the man and he moves out of the way to reveal Keeley rushing towards the door, “sorry about him, he doesn’t know not to answer the door at other people’s houses,” she tells you as she rolls her eyes before reaching out for Stella with a bright smile.

Stella wriggles out of your arms and rushes towards Keeley’s plush couch with barely any time for you to plant a kiss on her forehead. You sigh with a mixture of relief and exhaustion, gathering yourself mentally before you head into the disaster zone that is your job.

“She’s been doing this thing where literally all she eats is strawberries,” you tell Keeley before you rush off, “but I’m sure you could get her to eat anything.”

“I’ll try my best,” she tells you with a wink before she all but shoves you away, “now don’t you worry about us, we’ll be just fine.” You smile at her one last time before you rush off to work, knowing Stella will be safe and happy for the whole day.

“Who was that?” Jamie asks, trying to seem nonchalant as he watches Keeley pour juice into a sippy cup as the little girl uses her chubby little fingers to turn on her favorite show.

“Oh that’s my neighbor, she’s a single mum and her boss is a total dickhead so I watch Stella whenever I can,” Keeley explains, leaning against the counter as she levels Jamie with a knowing stare, “she’s real fucking fit and I wouldn’t mind watching Stella while she does something actually enjoyable, like go on a date.”

Jamie’s a little embarrassed about how easy Keeley is able to read him, able to clock the way Jamie looked at you as he lingered in the doorway. You seemed magnetic, drawing Jamie towards you even as you rushed away and left him with nothing but the desire to know you better. Keeley stares for a few more seconds, long enough for Jamie to squirm under her gaze, before heading over to give Stella her breakfast with a giant smile.

Unsurprisingly, you were right, and Stella eats anything that Keeley makes for her, even the broccoli she had screamed at the night before. She ate it all with a smile, and Jamie was a little terrified at how quickly the little girl was taking over his heart. He’d always loved kids, loved getting to spend time with them and listen to the nonsensical way they talked, but something about Stella seemed different. She had been apprehensive about him at first, but by the time nap time rolls around, she falls asleep in his lap, her little head nestled against his shoulder.

This is how you find them when you rush home before dinner, not even bothering to knock or wait for Keeley to let you in. There’s still a Disney movie playing softly on the TV, and Keeley and Jamie are talking quietly so they won’t disturb Stella, even though you’re sure that girl could sleep through anything.

“Hi, babe!” Keeley greets you with a grin as she pats the couch next to her, and you’re so exhausted you don’t even think twice about sitting down, “Wanna stay for dinner?” She always tries to get you to stay for dinner, tries to get you to let someone take care of you for a change, but you’ve never once accepted her offer.

Today, though, you’re tired to your bones, and even the thought of ordering takeout seems like too much work, so you just nod. Keeley squeals before she looks over at Stella in mortification, but she’s still fast asleep against the man who opened the door that morning. Keeley must catch you looking because she sends you a wink before introducing the two of you, “That’s Jamie, Stella really seems to love him,” and then scurrying off to the kitchen.

At that, Jamie seems embarrassed, his cheeks tinged pink as he glances down at Stella, “I can try to hand her to you, if ya want?”

“Oh, no, I can never get her to nap this long,” you reassure him, and it almost feels like a swarm of butterflies are let loose in your stomach when he smiles at you.

The two of you talk quietly, Keeley joining in whenever she has something to add, and before long Stella is up and happily watching cartoons again. When it comes time for dinner, she demands to sit next to Jamie, practically vibrating with excitement at the idea of spending more time with her new friend.

Watching the two of them interact throughout the meal creates a pit in your stomach and an aching in your chest, as Jamie kindly helps Stella cut up her food and shoots her a wink when he steals a bite off of her plate and Stella just giggles and grins her way through the meal. As much as you’d like to stick around and catch up with Keeley and thank her properly for all of her help, you’re feeling the need to run so you help clean up in the kitchen before dragging Stella back home.

She’d been more than reluctant to leave and seemed on the verge of tears until you promised her ice cream before her bath and now she’s happily eating her dessert while recounting her entire day from the moment you dropped her off to the second you walked through the door.

“Jamie’s really nice and he let me do his hair and taught me to play football and Auntie Keeley said he thinks you’re pretty and…” you zone out after that, and even though you know Keeley was probably just teasing her friend, the thought sends you into a tailspin.

Sure, Jamie was obviously attractive and he was clearly great with Stella, but you barely knew each other and Stella could be lying to you because she’d recently started doing it just for fun. Knowing Keeley, though, she’s always trying to play matchmaker, and you wouldn’t put it past her to try and set up two of her single friends, regardless of if they’re compatible or not.

Still, you decide to spend some quality time searching for Jamie online after Stella goes to sleep.

What you don’t know, though, is that as you spend hours scrolling through all of Jamie’s socials, Keeley and Jamie are having a very similar conversation next door.

“Please just ask her out!” Keeley pleads for the thousandth time, pouring a glass of wine as Jamie pulls up the most recent episode of their favorite reality show.

“Keeley, I don’t know her at all.”

“I know, but I know her! And I know you, and I know the two of you would have a great time. Please, Jamie, the two of you deserve to have a good time and I want to babysit for something other than her boss being shitty.”

Jamie seems to be contemplating it, and Keeley knows she has him.

“I’ll give you her number, maybe invite her and Stella to a game, and then you can ask her out to dinner?” Keeley’s been toying with the idea of setting the two of you up, and now that you’ve actually met it seems like the most perfect idea and she knows you’ll be perfect together.

Keeley doesn’t wait for confirmation, going ahead and sending Jamie your contact information as he turns up the volume on the TV, as if to drown her out.

“And I’ll know if you don’t ask her,” she adds as she sits down next to him, feeling the need for one last push.

“Watch the show, Keeley,” Jamie says as turns his attention to the drama unfolding as if his heart isn’t racing at the idea of seeing you again, at the idea of taking you out for dinner.

It takes him a while to gather his courage, and he couldn’t even begin to count the amount of times he’s typed a message to you before quickly deleting it. He’d briefly considered asking his teammates for help, but that would mean explaining the whole situation and he remembers how intensely involved everyone was with Sam’s Bantr girl and he has no desire to be on the receiving end of that.

Instead, Keeley’s endless messages of Text. Her. push him over the edge until he types a text and hits send instead of delete.

Hey, it’s Jamie from Keeley’s house. Do you and Stella want to come to the game on Saturday? The seats are next to Keeley.

He couldn’t help the way he checked his phone every five minutes after hitting send, or the way his stomach swooped once you sent a reply.

Stella would love that, thank you :) she hasn’t stopped talking about you or football

Jamie needs to tamper down his smile when he reads that because he knows if any of his teammates catch him smiling at his phone, he’d never hear the end of it. Instead, he tells you that Keeley will have the tickets for you and he goes about the rest of his day as if his stomach isn’t full of butterflies at the idea of seeing you again or getting another text from you.

Saturday can’t come soon enough, with Stella bouncing off the walls at the idea of seeing her new friend again and, even though you’d never admit it to anyone, you’re looking forward to seeing Jamie too. Even though your conversation was brief, it was clear that Stella loved him and you’d gotten to know him a little better through texting, where he made you promise to come down to the dressing room after the match so he could say hello to Stella.

Unsurprisingly, it’s a struggle to get Stella into her little Richmond jersey, an old hand-me-down of Keeley’s niece with Kent plastered on the back; she begs you to wear it all the time, but the one day she’s supposed to, it's like the fabric is made of knives. By the time you stumble out to Keeley’s car, you’re sweaty and aggravated and looking forward to spending the afternoon with your best friend.

What you weren’t expecting, though, was to be led up to the owner’s box, where you were greeted by Keeley’s friend Rebecca, who was intimidatingly beautiful and the owner of AFC Richmond. You’d met a few times, but seeing her in her element while you wrangled a kindergartener made you feel like a fish out of water.

“And you must be Stella,” she says, looking down with a smile at your daughter who’s trying to escape your grip on her hand.

“Normally she has manners,” you respond as you smooth a hand over the girl’s hair, trying to get her to calm down for just a moment, knowing all the excitement of the match is going to make it impossible for her to sleep as it is.

Rebecca just chuckles, her brilliant smile never leaving her face.

“I completely understand, my Jelka sometimes acts like she’s never left the house.”

“I didn’t know you had a daughter?” Your statement comes out more like a question, racking your brain for any memory of Rebecca mentioning a child before.

“It’s a recent development,” Keeley adds with a wink to you as she squeezes Rebecca’s arm, and the taller woman just scoffs.

The four of you make your way out to your seats, Stella insisting on standing up on your legs, blocking everyone behind you. You turn to apologize, but the man sitting behind you just brushes it off.

“Children are strong willed,” he tells you with a reassuring smile, “I couldn’t even get my boys to wear pants when they were her age.”

It’s hard to ignore the urge to apologize for everything you or Stella did, but knowing you were surrounded by parents who understood the struggles of a strong willed child helped calm your nerves. It wasn’t that Stella misbehaved or that you let her run wild, but sometimes people who weren’t parents didn’t understand and expected her to sit quietly and still, as if she was a little adult and not a five year old child. Luckily, as the match started, everyone seemed to get as rambunctious and energetic as her.

Watching the game, you can’t help the way your eyes keep drifting to Jamie, even when he doesn’t have the ball. There’s just something about him that continues to draw your eyes to the large number nine on his back as he runs across the pitch. He scores right before halftime, and no one in that stadium is half as excited as Stella, who’s jumping up and down and screaming as if you just told her you’re taking a trip to Disney.

Richmond scores two more times, winning the game without much of a fight.

“Come on, let’s go see the boys!” Keeley stands and wiggles her fingers at Stella, who clambers out of her seat and eagerly grabs her hand, leaving you no choice but to follow. Keeley all but runs down the stairs with you and Rebecca trailing behind, exchanging information to get your girls together some time.

When you make it to the dressing room, you’re hit in the face with noise and warmth and the smell of sweat, but Stella is so excited you can barely focus on anything other than keeping your grip on her little hand. Keeley knocks and lets herself in with you and Rebecca following and you can’t help the way you immediately feel like there are 27 pairs of eyes on you.

“Jamie!” Stella slips out of your grip and makes a beeline for the striker and your heart stutters at the easy way she jumps into his grip, at the way he smiles at the little girl.

“We’ve gotta get you a better fucking kit,” Jamie tells her when he sees the large Kent plastered on her back, leading to stares and shushes from the rest of the team. Jamie, realizing what he’s said, looks to you with eyes wide with fear and remorse.

“It’s nothing she hasn’t heard before,” you tell him with a smile, and the room erupts into noise again, the team swarming your daughter and asking her opinions on the match, considering everything she says with genuine concern. You keep watch out of the corner of your eye, but from what you’ve heard from Keeley and what you know about Jamie, you’re sure Stella will be fine, but it’s hard to turn off the mom instincts.

Isaac is marching Stella around the room on his shoulders to “give her a better view” when Jamie comes over to where you’re standing with Keeley, Rebecca, and the coaches.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yeah, sure, of course,” you shoot a glance back at Keeley, but she just winks at you as Jamie leads you out into the hallway.

It’s silent for a few moments, Jamie fiddling with the front of his kit, before he finally says, “Did Stella have a good time?”

“She loved it, probably the best day of her life so far,” you grin at him, hearing your daughter’s happy giggles through the dressing room door.

“Good, good,” he falls silent again, shoving his hands into the front of his kit.

You’re about to head back into the dressing room, even though you’re certain that wasn’t what Jamie wanted to ask you, when a question tumbles out of his mouth so quickly you’re certain you’ve misunderstood him.

“Wanna grab dinner sometime?” He expels a breath as if this is the most difficult thing he’s had to do today.

“What?” You ask in response, confused and surprised and sure you just didn’t hear him right.

“Would you like to get dinner sometime?” He asks again, slower, “Like, as a date?”

“That sounds nice,” and with the way he beams at you, you’re sure you’d agree to whatever he asks you.

“Cool.” You stand in the hallway for a few moments longer, just smiling at each other, before the laughter of your daughter snaps you out of your stupor and you head back into the dressing room. You can tell by the look on Keeley’s face that she knew exactly what Jamie had asked you, and was probably the one who pushed him to do it.

“Need a babysitter Friday night?” she asks as you approach, and you just roll your eyes at her, turning your attention back to Stella and the group of footballers that seem so enamored with her and her opinions.

The celebration starts to die down, even though you’re certain the party’s going to pick up at some exclusive club or bar in a few hours, and Rebecca walks with you and Keeley out into the car park.

“How long has that been a thing?” She asks, jutting her head back towards the building with a knowing little smirk as you buckle Stella into her seat.

“There is no thing,” you fix Keeley with a look, knowing that she’s probably been planning that for months, before you’d even met Jamie, and Rebecca has been in on it the whole time.

Still, you promise to message Rebecca with the dates that you and Stella are free for a playdate before buckling yourself into the driver’s seat, all the excitement of the day starting to wear you down. Hopefully, Stella’s so worn out from excitement she goes right to sleep when you get home, but you know the more likely scenario is that she stays up all night because she’s wound up.

The universe must be on your side, though, because Stella falls asleep before you’re even home and you need Keeley’s help to open your front door.

“God, this was so much easier to do when she was smaller,” you whisper with a grin, thinking of all the times Keeley needed to help you into your house when your arms were full of a sleeping Stella and groceries and your work bag. Keeley grins back, placing a kiss on Stella’s forehead before scampering off to her own house, waving goodbye before she closes the door.

Tell me when Jamie gives you a day + time, I’ll come over to help you get ready ;)

Even though you roll your eyes when you see the message, sent before you could even get Stella into bed, you really do appreciate her offer. You can’t even remember the last time you’d been out on a date, and you’ve certainly never been out with a professional footballer. Jamie’s clearly a nice guy, and you’ve enjoyed the few times you’d talked in person, but you’re already beyond nervous for the date that’s still days away.

Those nerves only grow as the week goes on, as you and Jamie settle on Friday at seven at an upscale restaurant you’d never even heard of, and as Keeley lets herself into your house with her spare key at four o’clock on Friday, your nerves reach their peak.

“Well, I’d totally fuck you,” Keeley says after she zips up the back of your dress, looping her arms around your waist and looking into your eyes through the mirror with a grin.

“Thanks, Keels, I’ll be sure to let him know that,” you reply with a giggle, finally starting to feel a little giddy at the thought of your date, even though your anxiety was pulsing just below the surface. The doorbell rings then, and you’re almost certain your heart is going to stop.

“I’ll get it,” Keeley gently pushes you aside as she makes her way out of the bathroom, “grab a purse before you come down, and not the big one! He won’t need snacks before dinner to stop him from crying!” She gives you a wink and then she’s gone, and you can just barely hear her greet Jamie at the door, followed by Stella making a run for him.

Breathing deeply, you make your way back into your bedroom to stuff all of your belongings into a tiny purse, leaving your trusty, large tote sitting on the bed, overflowing with snacks and toys to keep Stella entertained whenever you go out. As much as you’d love to, you know you can’t hide out in your room forever, so you snap your purse closed and make your way downstairs.

Walking down your steps makes you feel like you’re a teenager again, your prom date eagerly waiting at the door after getting grilled by your father, except this time it’s Jamie getting grilled by Keeley and your daughter. When she sees you, Stella is already reaching for you, attempting to wriggled herself out of the arms of a slack-jawed Jamie.

“C’mon, babe,” Keeley intercepts Stella instead, knowing you’ll never leave otherwise, “let’s go find a movie to watch.” Now, it’s just you and Jamie standing by your front door in silence, Stella’s happy jabbering filtering in from the living room the only noise.

“You look nice,” you finally break the silence, feeling awkward and unsure of yourself and certain you sound lame, like you haven’t been on a date in the last six years.

“So do you,” Jamie responds, gently trailing his eyes up and down your form despite the blush on the tips of his ears, “ready?”

You just nod, still needing time to process the fact that you’re going on a date with Jamie Tartt, who looks nothing less than perfect in dark slacks and a button up, and it’s clear that he had attempted to style his hair but the way he continually runs his hands through it has ruined whatever styling there was before. Hopefully the shock of going out with someone so gorgeous will wear off soon so you can actually participate in conversations.

Luckily, by the time you make it to the restaurant Keeley had recommended to Jamie, you’re able to talk about anything and everything, swapping stories about your childhoods and work and Stella, stories that Jamie seems genuinely interested in.

“I hadn’t put together any of her nursery furniture and she would not stop crying so I couldn’t put her down,” you tell him over dessert, explaining the beginning to your friendship with Keeley, “and then there was a knock on the door and I was ready to scream at whoever was on the other side, but it was Keeley and she took Stella right out of my arms and of course she stopped crying then.” You smile, reminiscing on how essential Keeley was during those first few months where you were convinced you’d made a mistake and you’d never survive.

“And then she sat with me while I put together the rest of Stella’s furniture, and she put her in the crib, turned on the baby monitor, and made me dinner.” Keeley had shown you that you weren’t alone, that you’d be able to handle whatever life throws at you because you had her by your side, and if anyone could understand that feeling it was Jamie. “She sat with me and came over every night, just to hang out, and when I went back to work, she watched Stella for me and I didn’t even need to ask.”

“Yeah, she’s magical like that, making you realize things about yourself, believing in you and shit,” Jamie adds, even as his cursing catches the attention of the tables around you.

“She insisted on being Stella’s fairy godmother,” you add with a giggle, delighting in the way Jamie smiles at you.

“I ordered Stella a Tartt kit, by the way,” as soon as the thought crosses your mind the words are out of your mouth, and it’s worth it when Jamie looks at you like this is the best news he’s ever heard.

“She’ll have to wear it to our next match, then,” and you’d agree to anything he says when he says it with that soft look in his eyes, like he might actually love you.

It’s too soon for any of that, but the thought doesn’t scare you the way it normally does. You think you’d enjoy being in love with Jamie, making breakfast together on the weekends and falling asleep next to each other every night of the week. Stella already adores him, so you’d never need to worry about that, and it seems like he cares for Stella the way you and Keeley do, and you know she needs all the love and support she can get.

Jamie glances at his phone, letting out a sigh as he notices the time.

“This is the best night I’ve had a in a while,” he says and you brace yourself for the finishing blow, “but grandad makes me get up at 4 AM for training. Maybe I can bring you coffee tomorrow?” He looks so hopeful, even if you weren’t already foaming at the mouth at the idea of spending more time with him, you’d say yes.

He walks you to your door, and you have to pretend that you don’t know that Keeley is watching from behind the curtains when you press a kiss to his cheek and he squeezes your hand in a way that makes you want to invite him in, even though you both know that would never happen. He waits until you’re safely inside before driving away, and as soon as the door shuts behind you, Keeley is attacking you for details.

Seated on the couch, legs tucked underneath you and junk food spread out on the coffee table, you recount your whole night, telling her how wonderful he was and how great he made you feel and Keeley looks happy enough to burst. Whether her joy comes from the fact that her two friends are happy or because she set the two of you up, you’ll never be sure.

After she leaves, you find yourself texting Jamie, thanking him for such a great night and wishing him luck with training before throwing yourself into bed, happy and exhausted and ready to sleep forever. You dream of Jamie and Stella and a dog, and when you wake up, you’re a little disappointed that it wasn’t real, though you’d never admit that to anyone.

Jamie brings coffee in the morning, and almost every morning after that. When you tell him to stop going out of his way, he tells you his house is right down the road, but Keeley confirms your suspicions that he’s lying. You just laugh when she tells you he’s wrong, too delighted that someone would go out of their way for you every morning to bring it up with him again.

It’s a little terrifying, how seamlessly Jamie fits into your life. You and Stella find yourself in the owner’s box of most Richmond home games, and Jamie brings over takeout every Friday night. If you’re ever working late or stuck at the office, Jamie always jumps at the chance to pick Stella up from school, sometimes grabbing Phoebe as well so the two girls can play together.

Sometimes you wonder if he does that solely to bother Roy, but you don’t mind as long as the girls get home safely.

Jamie is wonderful with Stella, and that was what scared you the most, because while you were used to dealing with heartbreak and disappointment, your daughter wasn’t. Every time you see them kicking a football around in your backyard or catch Stella asleep in Jamie’s lap during a movie, your heart constricts and your breath catches in your throat because you don’t know how you’re supposed to explain it to her if Jamie decides to leave, decides that a fit young footballer doesn’t need to be tied down by a kindergartener and her workaholic mother.

One night, a few months after that very first dinner, the two of you are sitting on the couch with Stella safely asleep in her bed and you’re so happy it scares you a little. This is everything you’ve always wanted, a loving partner who cares for your daughter like she’s his own, but you need to resist the urge to self-destruct.

“Jamie,” you start, reaching for his hand and pulling his attention away from the movie and hating how much this sounds like you’re about to break up with him, “I love you.” It’s a miracle you’re able to keep your voice steady with the terror you feel, but it all evaporates in a second when Jamie smiles at you, beaming from ear to ear as if he’s scored a game winning goal.

“I love you, too,” and he kisses you so softly it hurts you a little, hurts the part inside your brain that was wishing your life could have always been like this, wishing you could have always been this happy. You kiss him back, though, and the movie sits forgotten for the rest of the night.

“I got pregnant at nineteen,” you tell him later, wrapped up in your sheets and his arms, “and Stella’s dad isn’t a bad guy or anything, he just… wasn’t ready, which is fine, it was my choice in the end, but sometimes it really fucking sucked.” You sniffle, hating yourself a little for ruining such a lovely night but Jamie just pulls you close, presses a kiss to the crown of your head and traces nonsensical shapes on your arm.

“But then I found Keeley, and now I have you, and Stella’s perfect and everything turned out okay but I just wanted you to know,” you finish, breathing deeply for the first time since you started talking. It wasn’t like it was a secret that you had Stella young or that you were a single mom, but sometimes revealing all the details felt too intense, like no one needed or wanted to hear how you got to this point.

“Me mum was only twenty when I was born,” Jamie tells you, continuing his tracing on your arm and it’s then that you realize he’s been drawing hearts, “and my dad’s a real piece of a shit, so she basically raised me all on her own. And then she found Simon when I was a teenager and he’s a good guy, likes baking and shit. I think they’d both like you a lot, you and Stella.”

“Well, your mom must be pretty great, putting up with you all on her own,” you smile, bursting into laughter when Jamie squeezes your side, both of you feeling lighter and falling asleep after sharing more giggle-filled kisses.

Life continues on, leaving you giddy to see what the next day will hold. Jamie continues to bring coffee every morning, stopping by while Stella eats breakfast in front of the TV and you pack up three lunches. If there isn’t a game, Jamie stays over on the weekend and the two of you make breakfast together, swaying gently in the kitchen in your pajamas, basking in the sun and his presence until Stella stomps her way downstairs, hair ruffled and her grumpy little frown blooming into a smile the second she smells the pancake batter.

Stella started playing football on the same team as Phoebe, and you and Keeley get equally as excited as you do at Richmond matches. Whenever he’s available, Jamie will join Roy as an assistant coach, and even though he tells you it’s to spend time with Stella, you’re sure seeing the annoyed look on Roy’s face whenever he shows up is a nice bonus. The four of you will take the girls out to lunch after, and you’re reminded of all the wonderful people you’ve had in your corner, some longer than others but all equally as important to you.

Your life might not have gone the way you expected, but what you have now is better than anything you ever could have dreamed.

Tags: @whimsical-roasting @hopefulromances @onceuponaoneshot @jamietarttdodo @scaramou @ickydollysstuff @drizzyreese @amieinghigh @ilymoonie @better-things-to-do @yepyeahuhhuh @zazima @guccilongboard @shineforever19 @tortilla-maria1 @shakespeareanwannabe @lilweirdgal @flashyourgreeneyesatme @aiyaiy @just35yrsandtrying @chrissy1986 @emmy2811

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt fluff #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction

[chrollohearttags]

erwin is the definition of dilf with no kids like this man is old school as fuck. definitely calls you sweetheart and honey. makes you tea with a side of ibuprofen in the morning because ain’t nothing old about his sex drive baby

look…LOOK! papa erwin? That man is from a lost breed of men we ain’t gone never see in our lifetime 😭 fine, rich and funny. This man SPOILS you so badly, it don’t make sense. Like you said, straight from the old school! I’m talking comes to the doorstep with flowers in hand and kisses it when he greets you. Ain’t no sneaky links or dating apps around him. If he wants to see you, he’s always weary of your time. Once you let him know that schedule is open, oh baby wastes no time preparing to woo you. “I’ve planned a wonderful evening for us. Reservations at that place I heard you talking about at eight and a boat ride around the city? How’s that sound?” And you just wanna cry because where did this man come from?! One thing about Mr. Smith, he stays looking good and smelling even better. Button downs, slacks, gold wristwatches and Tom Ford cologne. Never catch him looking shabby even on an off day. When you go out, it’s the finest that his money can buy. Top shelf wine, fancy entrees..the works. And there ain’t no $200 date debates. He gone run it all up for his lady. Bill splitting? Please. If you pull that purse out in front of him, he’d stare at you like you’d lost your mind! “(Y/N) sweetheart, your money is no good around me. What type of man would make a woman pay for a date?” The evening is literally perfect. The two of you explore the town from his yacht cause yes, big daddy got it like that! you already know. Holding you close and constantly pouring on compliments. It’s not until he gets you alone does that sweet, seemingly shy demeanor fades and that freak he’s been waiting to unleash on the right woman comes out.

you’ll be kissing all over one another, touching and being all handsy. Sitting on the couch in his spacious living room, where he gently disrobes you..layer by layer peeling off that sexy dress and even sexier lingerie underneath, you wore just for him. He’s complimenting you on your skin, telling you how soft and beautiful you are…ugh he’s the sweetest. But that’s nothing when he starts to lick and kiss on your neck, work his hands up your body and massaging between your thighs. You’d expect him to be into more vanilla sex…that even though he was absolutely perfect in every aspect, he had to at least lack in that department. Not the case at all! This man’s head game is literally lethal; putting it in his face and feasting until you start coming all over his mouth. “Don’t run from me, darling. I’m not done yet..” giving you a stern look with his fingers locked into your own. He folds you in about five different positions; from missionary to where he constantly dotes on how beautiful you are. Wiping away your tears when it becomes too much. “Just breathe with me, okay?” To giving some very heavy backshots and even hitting from the side with a hand to your throat. Mr. Smith is no amateur, baby! By the time you finished, your lashes are stuck to your forehead, you’re breathing heavy and have his sheets fucked up. He makes sure you’re okay, doing after care like no other man ever has. Wanting to ensure that you’re fine before you go to sleep. And even wakes you up with breakfast in the morning! Yeah, he’s husband material for sure.

#cherry’s asks 🍒 #erwin x black reader #erwin smith x black reader #erwin smut #erwin x y/n #erwin smith #aot erwin #snk erwin #attack on titan erwin #commander erwin #erwin drabble #erwin smith x y/n #erwin fluff #erwin aot #aot black reader fluff #aot x female reader #aot x black reader #aot smut #aot au #black reader #black fem reader #black fanfiction #black reader smut #queued posts #black fanfic writer

[enhypens-hoe]

YOU’RE PATHETIC ⛪️ - teaser!!!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡𐙚 summary: Jay and you go to the same church school. He and his friends make fun of you for actually following the rules. You think he hates you, but little do you know about his obsession.

pair: park jongseong x goody too shoes reader (fem reader)

warnings: nsfw, cursing, smut, bj, corruption kink, hard dom? jay, sub reader, talk about religion, masturbation (jay), jay and reader go to a church school, jay’s 20 and readers 19 turning 20. + more coming soon

p.s. in no way am I trying to mock anyones reilgion. I mean no harm this is all fiction and in creative fun. If you are not comfortable with this topic please do not read and look for something else.

series: 80’s love

There he was for the third time this week, fist pumping his cock with the swollen red tip sticking out. Moaning your name like it was some sort of ritual because he couldn’t stop thinking about you and your pigtails. Oh, how much he wants to tug on them and push you to your limit while fucking you hard. He really shouldn’t be doing this and if his parents found out he’d be in so much trouble but that doesn’t stop Jay. It didn’t stop him when he was 14 so why would he stop now at the age of 20.

“yea- oh f-fuckk” he grunts as white ropes spill out of him onto his hand. His breathing is unstable as he closes his eyes imagining how you’d clean him up so well. You’re so vulnerable and pure, that’s what Jay loves most about you. You’re always following your parent’s rules like a good Christian girl, but Jay always wonders if he could change that. Minutes pass by and you’re the only thing running through his mind.

He flinches when he hears the front door open letting him know his mom is back from the store. Jay groans wiping his hand with a napkin and yanking on the nearest pair of sweats before running to go wash his hands. He runs downstairs taking the bags from his mom’s hands setting the bags on the kitchen counter and taking out the groceries.

“Thank you. Oh, guess what that girl.. the one with the pigtails. We saw her and her family at church on Monday. I saw her at the store today and she helped me carry my bags to my car. She’s cute and seems like a good girl… hmm?” Jays head rises suddenly not interested in what his mom bought.

“Oh, ___?” his mom snaps pointing at him meaning he guessed right. “She’s annoying and such a crybaby. I’m not even worried about girls right now mom.” He hates how nervous he gets talking about you. The more he tries to conceal his feelings the more they pour out. His mom just laughs putting some groceries in the fridge. “Hey! Be nice.”

She looks up at him her look suddenly showing some disappointment. “I thought I told you not to skip church school yesterday. -” I know I’ll go tomorrow, Mom. “Park Jongseong I’m serious. You’re a Christian man you need to continue on the right path. You’re a good kid you always have been.” Jay just looks away and nods not wanting to argue with his mom. His mom is trying to study his expression wondering whether to drop the conversation or not.

She sighs before speaking again. “Well, go upstairs and shower then come help me cook and set the table.” his mom softly tells him rubbing his shoulder. Jay listens dragging his feet across the floor and up the stairs.

Your white sneakers hit the floor as you walk in the halls, skirt slightly swaying. Books pressed up against your chest like someone will steal them. Your friend throws her arm around your shoulder, and you flinch looking up before smiling. You guys walk to your locker telling her updates on your new pet bunny.

And well Jay watches you from across the hallway…

jazi’s note: this teaser is ass but I wanted to put this out because im almost done with Jay’s oneshot. I’m not sure If I will include this first “scene” in the actual one shot because it will be a little longer than I wanted. If you guys want me to keep it in lmk. love you guys hope you enjoy the oneshot when i put it out💗

taglist: n/a (open)

@enhypens-hoe 2024 - do not steal, copy or translate.

#enhypen #jay enhypen #kpop smut #park jongseong #park jay enhypen #jay enha #jay smut #jay x reader #park jay x reader #park jay fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enha #enhypen jay

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

All Falls Down - Chapter 11

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

taglist: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996 @jeyusos-girl @melaninsugababy @baconeggndcheez @bemybabiibish @purplehairgawdess @jstarr86 @nbanenefrmdao @arination99 @alyyaanna @harmshake @empressdede @m3llowww @theninthwonder @jeysbae @badbitchcentralinc @raya-hunter01 @kawaiisadoglu @msbigredmachine @dietothemusic @2-muchsauce @tian-monique @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @woahthatshitfat @allmyn1ghts @courtninacole @mindairy @amandairene88 @reignsboy19 @wrestlingprincess80 @abadbitchblogs @cyberdejos2 @saintaquarius @bebesobrielo @vensusword @meannaim

Present Day

“Joe imma need to you to get the fuck away from me… real talk.” Josh snarled, “You always wanna bring up some old shit. We graduated twenty-something years ago.” Joe rolled his eyes. 

“Does it really matter how long ago it was Joshua? Y’all were dating. You had her give up her dream school to go to Alabama with you, then left her in Alabama by herself when you couldn’t keep your grades up. You always fuck up when it comes to Kiyana.” 

Kofi Xavier and Sami shared a look, whatever was going on between Josh and Joe went back years and they weren’t sure if they wanted to get involved. 

“Yo” Josh laughed “You deadass obsessed with my wife.” Josh stood up from his chair, pushing Xavier’s hand out of his way when he went to stop him and walked up into Joe’s face. “She’ll always be mine, Uce, my wife, the mother of my kids. So whatever plan you got cooking, you minds well put a end to it. She ain’t leaving me” Josh glared before shouldering Joe out of his way and walking out of catering to find Kiyana. 

Kiyana had wound up back outside by the docks. She knew she should’ve stayed her ass in Florida. ‘You had planned to divorce KiKi and get with Shanté.’ Hearing Joe say that and then Josh not even attempting to deny it actually broke Kiyana to pieces. The affair was one thing that they maybe could have recovered from but this… there was no coming back, there was no fixing this marriage. It was over.  Tears were pouring down her face at the thought of not being married to Josh anymore. 

“I’m sorry.” She heard someone whisper from behind her. Kiyana wiped her tears and turned around, rolling her eyes at who was standing there. “Look, lets just go home aight and forget about all of this, aight?” Kiyana scoffed 

“Forget? Josh, you want me to forget that you told some bitch that you wanted to divorce me for her? You really got me fucked up Joshua.” 

“Kiyana, I never said that.” He tried to walk towards her but she held up her hand to stop him. “Come-on Key, I love you, you know that.” 

“No, I thought I did.” She let out a sarcastic laugh and wiped her tears. “I thought that you loved me but it’s so obvious that you don’t. If you loved me you would’ve told me what happened between you and that woman the first time but you didn’t.You continued your affair for four months.” 

“And I’m sorry for that Key. I’m gon fix this Kiyana. I have to fx this. You want me to quit? I’ll do it. It’s so many other wrestling promotions out there.” She shook her head. 

“It’s too late Joshua,” She whispered, her heart feeling heavy in her chest. “This can’t be fixed.” 

“What? No.” He said walking towards her, ignoring her warning of ‘stay away’ “I fuck up, that’s what I do and then I fix it. I always fix it.” 

“Not this time.” She grabbed her bag and walked off without giving Josh a second glance. It was nearing midnight and all she wanted to do was lay in bed and cry her eyes out. 

Josh blinked back tears as he watched his wife walk away from him. How could he fuck up this bad? He shoulda stopped the affair as soon as it happened but with Key in the hospital and worrying if she and Kairo were going to make it, Josh needed an outlet. He needed a way to vent and Shanté was there for him, no it should have never led to them having sex for four months, but he was a man with needs.

Ever since her father had died, Kiyana had pushed Josh away. Even him trying to rub her stomach to feel his son had her bitching and complaining and maybe that was the reason why he didn’t stop the affair. He just wished he could go back in time and walk away from Shanté when she asked him out for that drink. 

Joe walked out of the arena just as Kiyana walked away from Josh and he had to hide his smirk. ‘Not leaving you my ass’ Joe thought as he walked past Josh and in the direction Kiyana went. 

“KiKi!” Joe called out after her, breaking out into a light jog to catch up to her. “Hey, come on. I’ll take you back to my bus.” She shook her head, eyes still glued to her phone as she looked up flights to Pensacola. 

“No Joseph. I just wanna go home okay.” She said almost tempted to throw her phone as she only saw flight that left tomorrow afternoon. “I should have stayed home. Coming here was a bad idea and you were no help! Like why did you have to blurt that out!” 

“So what,  he’s the only one that gets to cheat? That’s not right Kiyana!” He sighed and took a deep breath trying to calm himself down. “You don’t deserve what he did to you Kiyana and he should feel all of the pain that he made you feel.” Kiyana rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I just want to go home.” She sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat. “Can you take me to a hotel?” 

“No, you can stay on my bus, I’ll stay out in the living room and you can stay in my room.” When she opened her mouth to decline, Joe shook his head and raised his voice, talking over her. “I’m not taking no for an answer Kiki.” 

“Fine,” She muttered. “Where’s your bus?"

Joe was jolted away when his driver hit a pothole. He sat up on the couch and stretched, frowning when he heard Kiyana sniffling in his room. Josh should pay for what he’s done to her. She didn’t deserve any of this. He stood up from the couch and stretched the muscles in his back before walking over to the closed door and knocking on it. 

“You alright in there Kiyana?” He asked softly, feeling his heart ache at the sound of her choked sobs. 

“Yeah, sorry if I woke you up.” She said softly, Joe having to strain his ears to hear her over the sound of the bus’s engine. 

“It’s all good Kiki.” He said and then after a moment of silence asked, “can I come in.” Kiyana didn’t say anything but he heard her feet pad across the floor then heard the lock clicking. “You wanna talk about it?” Joe asked once he walked into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, his body half-way turned towards her. 

“Not really,” She said softly, shrugging and wiping her nose with some tissue. Joe nodded and laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “How could he do this to me Joey? After everything we've been through.” she whimpered, picking at stray strings in his blanket. 

“He’s a moron Kiyana.” Joe whispered back, turning his head to the side to look at her. Even with her puffy eyes and slightly snotty nose, she was the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. 

“What am I going to tell my kids?” She asked, looking up at him. Joe moved up the bed, resting his back against the headboard and pulled Kiyana into his arms.

“Don’t worry about that right now KiKi.” He muttered, stroking his hand up and down her arm. “You’re a good ass mom, you gon figure everything out for you and your kids.”

“Thank you,” Kiyana broke the silence after a while. “You’ve been a really great friend through all of this.” She whispered, looking up at him and he smiled down at her. 

“You know I'm always gon be here for you KiKi.” He whispered back, eyes jumping back and forth from the lips back up to her eyes. Fuck it. Joe and Kiyana thought simultaneously, both of their heads moving towards each other, their lips meeting in an passionate kiss. 

Kiyana moaned into his mouth as he pulled up on top of him. “Wait-Wait.” Joe said as he broke the kiss, throwing his head back and moaning when she started to place kisses up and down his neck. “You sure you wanna do this.” he moaned again when she started to suck on her earlobe. 

Kiyana moved away from his neck and cupped his jaw in her hands, staring deep into his eyes. “I want to do this Joe.” she affirmed, before reaching down and pulling her oversized shirt off of her, leaving her in her emerald green top and matching green and black lace panties.

“Goddamn baby girl” He said as she also took off her top, her nipple perking up from the coldness of the room. Josh is a fucking idiot. Joe thought as he slid his hands up from her wait to cup her breast.  She moaned and grinded her hips down on his lap as he swirled his tongue around her nipple, sucking on it before moving over to the other one.

Kiyana let out a loud laugh when Joe flipped them over so she was on her back looking up at him. She reached up and released his hair from the bun it was in. “One last chance to back out Kiki.”

Instead of answering him, she reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging him down so they were chest to chest and bit his bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth. “I want you Joe” Joe nodded and stood from the bed, eagerly taking his shirt off and pushing his shorts and briefs down his legs.

She hummed appreciatively as she eyed his growing erection. Joe smirked down at her and stroked his dick. Her eyes fluttered closed and she let out a moan as he leaned down and  placed open mouth kisses on her stomach leading to her sex. 

He let out a deep moan as he pushed her legs apart and draped them over his shoulders “Fuck, I made you this wet baby?” 

“Joe” She moaned as he took his thumb and ran it up and down her slit before circling her clit. “Fuck yes” She whispered as her back arched off the bed when his tongue replaced his thumb. He circled her clit with his tongue before closing his lips around it. One of her hands flew to his head,  gripping his hair and he moaned when she tugged on it. 

“You taste so fuckin’ good” Your husband is a dumbass he wanted to add but figured it would ruin the mood. “Hold them legs up for me.” He said ,then watched in awe as her toes damn near touched the bed by her ears. “Uh huh, just like that” he whispered before bringing his mouth back down to her pussy. 

She bit her bottom lip, soft moan escaping as she watched him basically devour her pussy. Her moans ,getting louder and louder when Joe circled his middle finger around her entrance  before pushing it inside of her. He let out a deep moan as her pussy clenched around his finger. 

“Mmmm.” She moaned, eyes rolling into the back of her head. “I’m boutta cum Joe.” 

“Go head baby, cum in my mouth.” He winked before wrapping his lips around her clit again and pumping his fingers in and out of her faster, moaning when her juices flooded his mouth. He placed a soft kiss on the inside of each thigh before scooting back up the bed, settling his lower body between her open legs. 

Both of them letting out moans once their lips met. Joe gripped his dick in his hands, sliding it up and down her slit before he pushed only the tip in. He pulled out, smearing her essence up and down her slit again, tapping her clit before, slowly pushing his length inside of her. 

“Mmm fuck” Kiyana gasped out against Joe’s lips and he started moving his length in and out of her. 

Josh woke up to his phone ringing, a special ringtone that he had set for Kiyana. He immediately answered it. 

“Jesus Key,you got me out here worried and shit , where are you?”  

“Oh, fuck Joe right there!” Josh blinked, still holding the phone to his ear as his wife’s moans and his cousin's groans came through his cell phone’s speaker. 

“Kiyana?” Josh whispered, bottom lip wobbling as his heart was literally being torn from his cheat. 

“Shit, Mmhm you grippin’ the fuck out my dick KiKi.” Josh dropped the phone like he had been burned by it, staring down at it in horror. 

🤣

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

#wwe #jey uso #jey uso x black reader #jey uso imagine #jey uso x reader #wwe x black reader #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x you #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns fic #jey uso smut #roman reigns smut #jey uso fanfic #jey uso x fem reader

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2023: October 15th

Day 15: Boot Worship, Spanking/Flogging/Whipping/Caning, Lactation/Breastfeeding

Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Post-pregnancy, lactating, pumping, breastfeeding kink, paying to drink breast milk, drinking milk, breast play, grinding, frottage, cumming in pants

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

There are some perks to being Dieter Bravo’s assistant. As crazy as he can be and put you through stress and odd situations, he is a fairly lenient boss. When you had come to him, explaining that you wished to be a surrogate for your sister who was unable to carry a child, he was cool with it. 

Did it stop the 2AM calls because he couldn’t find his favored crocs, or didn’t remember the name of that 24-hr Mexican restaurant? No. But he let you take off for all the doctor’s appointments without too much complaint, stopped doing drugs around you since it was bad for the baby, and insisted that you have a chair on set next to his to sit down in at all times. In actuality, it was pretty sweet. 

You had planned on coming back to work right away, since the baby was immediately going to your sister from the delivery room, but Dieter had pitched a fit. Telling you that even though you didn’t have a newborn to take care of, you still needed to recover from giving birth. You had compromised, telling him that you could recover and still manage his calendar from his admittedly comfortable couch. 

You hadn’t expected the questions. Dieter is one of those enigmatic souls that there is no telling what will pique his curiosity, but you hadn’t expected it to be your breast pump. Your sister and you decided that you would pump your milk for at least the first few months, or as long as you could. 

Dieter was obsessed. Like a kid with a new toy, you found him playing with the pumps. There were two that you could wear inside your nursing bra to let you pump while you just went about your day. Removing them and draining them into the storage bags as needed and putting them right back on. 

He was staring at your breasts, frowning slightly as he looked away and then looked back at them. As if he was figuring something out. Until you realized he was trying to decide if you had the pumps on or not. He kept muttering to himself, shaking his head and walking out of the room abruptly. You would think that he was on drugs again, except you haven’t ordered any from his regular supplier in nearly two months. 

So it’s a complete surprise when you are sitting on the couch, nearly two months after you have given birth and settled back into your routines with Dieter that he plops down on the sofa beside you. “How much would I need to pay you to drink your milk?” 

Freezing, your jaw hits the ground in shock. Immediately flustered and wondering what the hell is he talking about. Drinking your milk? He wants to taste it? Pour it into his cereal? What?

“Dee, what? What the fuck are you-”

“I can’t stop thinking about it.” He groans, shuffling closer and staring at you with wide, pleading eyes before his gaze drops down to your breasts and he groans. His hand moves down to his crotch, almost covering himself like he’s trying to hide something before he grabs a pillow and shoves it in his lap. “Please, I - fuck, I’ll give you a thousand dollars. Give me….two ounces.” 

“Dieter…” 

“Two, all I’m asking for is two. The baby can spare that, right? You’ve been pumping like 80 ounces a day, right? Around that?” His tone is slightly whiny, begging like he always does when he really, really wants something. 

It shocks you that he’s aware of how many ounces of breastmilk you are pumping. That means that he’s got to be looking in the freezer. You’ve been storing it here since you are here more than your own house and having it sent over to your sister’s.

“You want to buy two ounces of my breast milk to drink?” You ask, wanting to make sure you understand what the fuck your boss is asking you. “For a thousand dollars.” 

“Two, two thousand.” Dieter ups the price, biting his lip and swallowing harshly. “A thousand dollars an ounce. Please, I know it’s weird, I know that I shouldn’t ask, but please, please just let me have some.” 

His eyes are earnest, begging you. Almost more intense than the first time he has if you would have sex with him. Finally finding something he wants more than sex. 

“I don’t know…” 

“I can’t stop thinking about it.” He rushes out, his face twisted in embarrassment but Dieter has no shame when there is something that he wants. He’s willing to humiliate himself as long as self-gratification for whatever he is obsessing over happens. “Drinking it, sipping it. Swallowing it down. Knowing that it is supposed to feed me. Feed a baby, I mean. It’s natural. The most natural food a man can have.” He justifies it, always good at finding reasons for why he needs to have what he wants. “It fucking- fuck, baby, it fucking turns me on. The idea of drinking your milk.” 

You can tell he wasn’t supposed to say that. From the way he immediately snaps his mouth shut and recoils from you, like you are going to reach out and slap him. Maybe you should slap him. It’s a slappable offense, but you aren’t. 

“Two thousand dollars, for a chance to drink two ounces of milk?” You don’t dismiss the idea, or slap him and that makes Dieter perk up. Immediately nodding, making his disheveled hair wave eagerly. 

“Yeah. Please?” He begs again. “I promise I won’t ask you to sleep with me again or go get my coffee. Ohhhh your milk in coffee.” You watch as he rolls his eyes back in his head at the thought, the pillow being crammed against his lap even more and you huff. 

“How many times have you jerked off thinking about drinking my milk, Dee?” You demand, making your boss nearly cringe at the question. 

Ducking his head and turning a range of mottled reds in mortification, he mumbles too quietly for you to hear. “- times a day.” 

“What?” 

He mumbles again. “-day.” 

“I can’t hear you.” 

“Seven or eight times a day!” Dieter finally shouts, grabbing the pillow from his lap and shoving it over his face to scream into it while your brows shoot up in surprise. You know Dieter has a high sex drive, but you never imagined he could go that many times. 

While he is having his fit, you think about it for a moment. It’s two thousand dollars and you’d rather your boss ask you to drink your milk than some random pregnant lady on the street. You wouldn’t put it past him. Despite his tendencies, Dieter is actually pretty respectful. He doesn’t push when he’s rejected and if you say no, you know that he will be disappointed but he won’t get angry. 

You aren’t wearing the pumps, thank goodness, so it’s easy to manage when you pull away the pillow from your boss's face and straddle his thighs, putting your milk filled tits in his face. 

“I- what are you-” Dieter chokes out, eyes wide and fixed on the tops of your tits, wanting to touch you but this wasn’t what he asked for. 

“You don’t want to drink straight from the source?” You ask innocently. 

The fact that you are on his lap makes you fully aware that Dieter’s cock is hard. Letting you feel the way that it jumps when you ask if he wants to drink from you. Not hiding his love of the idea even a little bit. 

He groans, tearing his eyes away from your breasts to look up into your eyes. “Yeah? Really?” He asks, still not touching you, but his hands are hovering over your hips, wanting to settle on them. “I- you would let me do that?” 

“You can’t squeeze them.” You caution. “They are tender, and sore a lot of the time. But if you want to, you can nurse, suck the milk from my tits and drink it down.” It was good timing, because you were going to have to pump anyway. 

“But I-” He seems to be completely stumped as to why you would offer more. No one ever offers more when he is desperate enough to pay for what he wants. “I’ll be careful.” He promises, leaning forward to nuzzle into your bosom and inhale the slightly milky scent of your skin. 

You feel the way he twitched under you. That admittedly impressive cock throbbing against your core in a way that you hadn’t thought about before this moment. He’s hard because of you. Because of this infatuation with your tits, your milk. 

Those hands that you had worried would be carelessly eager are almost timid. Asking if he can take off your shirt, or if you would prefer to just lower your shirt. You explain that it feels better to just lower your shirt and he quickly agrees. His fingers almost worshipful as he gently pulls your breasts out, taking your warning to heart as he positions them in his face and gets his first good look at your hard nipples and burgeoning jugs. 

“Oh god. I just want to…” he lunges forward and snuggles his face between the breasts he is holding almost reverently. Nearly motorboating you but just breathing deep. “Fuuuuuuuck.” He hisses, throbbing even more underneath you and you swear that you feel a bit of wetness transfer from his sweats to your leggings. 

You wrap your arms around him, for stability, for a lack of places to hold onto him, bringing him closer and you feel him sigh into your skin. As if he has found a place he wants to stay. 

It’s not too long before he wants more. His lips move along your skin in a surprisingly romantic scattering of kisses, as if you were his lover. 

His arms slowly slide around you as he kisses around your nipple, tilting his head down, and he groans when the warm, wetness of his lips wrap around a hard nipple to pull it into his mouth. 

Dieter’s hips rock up, grinding up into yoh and he twitches harshly when he tugs on the nipple, letting the first spurt of milk hit his tongue. His groan is so loud, almost pained, it covers the gasp that you give at the sensation.

It’s so different from the pump. Warmer, wetter. More intense as he starts to suckle eagerly. Gulping down mouthfuls of milk as fast as he can while dragging you closer, making you grind down on his cock from the movement. 

You get lost in the feeling of it all. His cock hard and throbbing under you. Pressing against your sensitive clit as your hips rock. The subtly erotic sensation of his whiskers against your skin. Eagerly letting him switch from breast to breast as he drinks you down. 

Dieter drinks more than two ounces, far more than you had agreed on, but neither one of you pulls away, even trying to stop. He’s gorging himself on the warm, slightly sweet milk in great, greedy gulps, groaning as he swallows. 

You don’t realize you are about to cum until you do. Stiffening in his arms, you push your breast into his mouth more as your back arches, a harsh cry escaping your lips. Pleasure washing over you in waves, and you don’t realize that Dieter is moaning your name. Rocking his hips up harshly to keep the friction going until he’s throbbing against your core. The warmth of his cum coating the inside of his sweats as he cums in his pants, drunk off your breast milk. 

“Holy shit.” You pant as he pulls away, milk drunk and softening underneath you as he swallows one last time. 

“Fuck, baby.” He groans. “Can we do this again tomorrow?”

#pedro pascal #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #absurdthirst kinktober #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo imagine

[eyeliketoeatpoosay]

CONGRATULATIONS ~ chris sturniolo.

part 2

pt1

summary ~ you and chris have been dating for quite a few months and you’ve only had sex a few times. but, chris is fine with waiting for as long as you need because he loves you.

warnings i! ~ fluff & smuttt, riding, oral (male rec), makeout, etc lmk if ive missed anything !! , use of baby & y/n (NOT PROOFREAD)

a/n ~ my first smut AHHH im scared dont kill me pls pls pls pls🐱🐱 - this is part 2!! -

“but i swear that ass is what heavens like, and when i’m in that pussy it’s a better life.”

when you guys arrived at the party, you were greeted by tara. you can never turn down a tarayummy party. you brought her into a hug and squealed. “tara! i missed you so bad.” you smile, following her to the drinks bar.

chris was stood beside you, his arm around your waist. you were both poured a vodka shot each, shot after shot. and by the end of it, you were feeling pretty tipsy.

matt was off talking to some random girls, nick hanging around jake webber and johnnie guilbert. you found some girls that you were friends with from social media and danced with them. chris had left your side awhile ago, but you had no idea where he was.

you knew he wouldn’t do anything illegal or disloyal, so you didn’t let it get to you. one of the girls random spoke up, dragging your little group to the couches. “okay, so. let’s play truth or dare.”

you grinned and nodded, “sure! who’s first?”

“i’ll go first. y/n, truth or dare?” abigail asked, looking directly at you.

it’s always safest to pick dare. “dare.” you smirked.

abigail grinned, “i dare you to.. go give that guy a lap dance.” she pointed at some influencer. did she not know about you and chris? layla nudged her, shaking her head. “girl, she’s with someone.”

abigail laughed, “so? a dares a dare. do it.” you mumble a ‘fuck.’ before you look at her. “i’ll just do truth.” maybe dare wasn’t always safe.

abigail groaned and rolled her eyes. “fine. who are you dating?”

“chris sturniolo.”

“does he give good head?”

what the fuck?

your face soured and you shook your head, “that’s two truths. also, i wouldn’t know. we’ve only ever had sex like twice.. never done anything else.” you admit shamefully, looking down at your dress that was somehow mostly up your thighs.

abigail laughs, “you gotta get out there, kid.”

layla slaps her arm, shaking her head in disbelief. “abi, quit it. the girls only 21 for fucks sake.”

“so what? it’s embarrassing! she’s 21 and hasn’t fucked more than twice. insecure much?” abigail giggles, looking you up and down.

you take a deep breath and stand up, “i’m just gonna go to the bathroom.” you laugh awkwardly, pushing your way through the crowds of dancing and drinking. on your way to the restroom, chris stops you and hugs you. “where have you been, y/n?”

“with some friends. we played truth or dare, it lasted a round.” you shrug and smile, “can we leave?”

chris furrows his eyebrows, grabbing your hands, “why what’s wrong?”

“i just want to go home.” you say over the music, looking towards matt. “matt, come here!”

“what’s up?” he smiled, a cup of fruit punch in his hands.

“have you drank any alcohol?” you asked and he shook his head, “can you drive us home?”

matt and chris chuckle, “y/n, we got an uber here.”

you sigh, “right.”

“why do you wanna go so bad?” chris places his hands on your shoudlers, looking down at you.

“just not feeling up to party.” you lie. he nods and grabs his phone out, dragging you to the front yard and calling an uber.

-

you kick your heels off into the middle of your bedroom, throwing your purse onto your chair and plopping onto your bed. chris followed behind you, shutting your bedroom door and sitting next to you on your bed.

“alexa, play congratulations by mac miller on spotify.” chris says to your device, smiling at you. his hand runs up your thigh, his finger moving your face to his. he presses his lips against yours, moving them at a slow pace.

your hands come up to his hair and his neck, sitting on his lap and already feeling his warmth beneath you. you move your head back slightly, leaving room for chris to plant kisses along you neck and jaw.

— “but i swear that ass is what heavens like, and when i’m in that pussy it’s a better life.” —

you moan softly at his touch, grinding gently on his lap, earning a groan from chris. you lift your dress up over your hips, resting on your waist.

chris looks at you, a little sparkle in his eye, “you sure, baby?” he asks, knowing how slow you like to

take things.

you nod, “i want to.” you pause, “but i want to be in control.”

chris chuckles and nods, “okay, baby.” you shuffle off his lap and pull his jeans down, along with his boxers. his already hard dick springs out, leaking with precum.

you take a deep breath as you look at the sight, chris taking notice and lifting your head up. “you don’t have to do this, you know?” he says softly.

you shake your head, looking at him with an innocent face. “no, i want to. i wanna make you feel good.”

chris nods, “okay, baby. if you’re sure.”

“i am.”

you spread it across his tip, pumping your hand slowly. he whimpers quietly, tilting his head back. you lean your head down, taking what you can in your mouth and using your hand for what doesn’t fit.

he moans, gripping your hair and gently pushing you down, not wanting to overwhelm you. “f-fuck.. that’s good baby.” he hushes out.

you bop your head down faster, looking up at him as you suck his dick. he clamps his eyes shut, already feeling himself close to his climax.

“you’re doing so well, baby.. just like that.” he praised, making you want to make him feel even better.

“so close.” he mumbles, with that you move faster, swirling your tongue around the tip. without warning, he finishes in your mouth. you sit up and scrunch your face up, swallowing. he lets out a deep groan as he does so.

“you gotta drink more water.” you both laugh as you kiss him, climbing back onto his lap. your hands wrap around his neck as you press your lips to his. “nuh uh.”

chris lifts your dress over your head, running his hands down your body. he smiles softly, “so beautiful.”

you push your black laced underwear to the side and slowly sank down onto him, gasping at the feeling. only having sex twice meant you were still adjusting to the feeling of a man inside of you.

chris looked up at you, “you okay, baby?” he ran his fingers through your hair and smiled. “we can stop.”

“no, i’m okay.” you shook your head and bottomed out. you let yourself adjust to the feeling of being so full and slowly moved your hips up and down, you bury your face into his neck and hold his hand.

“fuck.” you moan, already getting tired. your pace slow down and chris’ hands come up to you hips, pushing you up and down for help. he groans into your ear, “you close baby?”

you nod and whisper, “s-so close.” you feel the familiar yet so unusual feeling in your stomach, like theres a knot that’s about to snap.

“let go, i’m right behind you.” chris breathed, and you did. you let go all over his dick as he lifted you off him and he finished on your thigh.

you panted and dropped down next to him as he kissed your cheek. he stood up and grabbed a towel from your en suite, wiping your leg and himself.

“i love you so much.” you say softly, pulling him down and kissing him. “was i okay?”

chris chuckled and pulled his boxers back up. “more than okay, baby.” he planted a kiss on your cheek and grabbed you some clean underwear and sweatpants from your drawers. he lifted his t-shirt over his head and handed it to you as you put everything on.

he had some pajama pants in your room, so he slipped them on and climbed under your blankets beside you. you let your head drop onto his chest and your arm wrap around his torso.

“i love you too, by the way.” he whispered and closed his eyes. you listen to the pattern of his heartbeat and sigh deeply before shutting your eyes and letting sleep take over.

this was super scary. i hope it was ok for my first smut and also a virgin💋💋💋💋💋 ok bai pls domt dox me pls dony kill me pls just get wet !!

@mattslolita 🐇 @mattsturnioloisbae 💌 @sturnzsblog 🎀 @thestoryofusstan 🪩 @sturnslcver 💋

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #angst #christopher sturniolo #fluff #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #smut #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut

[satorubi]

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄 - toji fushiguro

· ₊ ⊹ SYNOPSIS — toji knows just how to get back at your ex.

「❀」 pairing : toji fushiguro x black fem! reader

「❀」 content warning : minors do not interact ! dad’s bestfriend toji, age gap ꒰ toji is forty and reader is in her late twenties ꒱ missionary, fingering, use of the word bitch - during sex - just once, use of pet names such as ꒰ sweetheart, pretty, slut ꒱

「❀」 word count : 3.6K whoop whoop !!

「❀」 author’s note : hiii !!! here’s me re-uploading this edited version of tastiest revenge - apart of my friendship is magic series - bc tumblr took it down the first time :/ i wanted to put out the gojo fic first but due to school starting, i realized how busy i’ve become :0 please enjoy & interactions n reblogs are always loved <33

you were taken aback when toji answered your call. not only was the time 10:56 PM, but it was also the middle of the week. you ought to been fast asleep in your apartment by now, getting a good night's rest for whatever the world had in store for you tomorrow. but, alas, you were slouching on toji fushiguro's porch, your clothes drenched from the light rain and your makeup smeared from all the tears you'd let fall down your pretty face.

toji stands up from his recliner and looks around before hurriedly opening the door. his heart nearly bursts from your change in vigor. the hesitant, kindhearted disposition you always possessed seems to have been lost just about now; you have a slight pout on your face and stare up at him with imploring eyes.

he swiftly draws you into the warmth of his chest and shut the door behind him without you having to speak another word. his contact causes your body to tremble, and the rumble from his chest doesn't do you credit. all you could hear was him repeatedly mumbling phrases like ‘speak to me’ and ‘i’m right here.’

he allows you a brief minute to collect your thoughts as your nose started to run due to all the sniffling you'd been doing. as he goes into the kitchen, you take a seat on one of the three cushions, letting your head rest against the seat. toji could be seen pouring tea into a lovely glass mug out of the corner of your tearful eyes.

“you wanna’ tell me what brings you here?” he asks, settling into the couch and leaving you both with just enough space. you were completely silent. that bubbly, talkative spirit you usually had was much more comforting compared to the silence he was experiencing right now. you looked completely drained— almost as if someone had completely stripped you from your joy.

“im sorry, toji. i didn’t mean to impose l-like this,” you utter and he chuckles. he gathers the remote in his hand and turns the tv down, figuring you were ready to vent.

“it’s not a bother at all, yn. y’know that.”

you weakly smile, taking a sip of the warm liquid given to you. a deep sigh leaves your lips, “he cheated. like.. a lot.”

before you finished speaking, you could see toji clench his jaw. your former boyfriend, or ‘a fucking bastard,’ as toji used to describe him, was a dumbass. toji wasn't surprised when you discussed this matter, given that the kid was well known for his horrible reputation with the ladies at your uni. since the minute he shook his hand at your birthday all those months ago, he was able to tell that the youngster was a jackass.

the son of a bitch was disrespectful when toji first met him. he spoke of you as if you were merely an item on his arm or a tool at his disposal. he was a real asshole and a heartbreaker; he wasn't your typical old bum of a man, and toji could read him from a mile away.

the kid wore a smug look on his face, only a look of someone without pure intentions would have. he was playing you the entire time and it was easy to see from the eyes of someone who was once a player his damn self.

you see, toji was irritated by the notion that someone could be so foolish as to lose a woman like you. someone who was so understanding, determined to get what she wanted, clever, and humorous in response to everything said to her.

blind. he had to be blind is all.

“a video was posted of him today. he was kissing another girl at some party,” yet another stray tear fell from the brim of your eye and there toji was to wipe it away, “i’m such an idiot.”

no you aren’t.

“nah, he’s a dumbass, and i’ll be damned if i have to sit here and watch you cry over something that isn’t your fault.”

you take a tiny pause in an effort to contain the tears that were on the verge of escaping. of course, none of this was your fault, but for some reason, you felt that you had to bear some responsibility. you made a foolish decision by disobeying all the guidance you had been given, and as a result, you are again stuck with the consequences. given that your father and toji had warned you about the man from the start, you were surprised that he had the strength to even talk to you about it.

“i just- i just should’ve listened to you, that’s all.”

toji sighs, grabbing ahold of your hands and squeezing them gently, “it’s a bad time to say i told you so, so i’m just gonna’ say i’m glad that you’ve come to your senses. he was a dickhead.”

toji noticed you smiling for the first time tonight, so his clumsy joke must have succeeded. genuinely. after your brief burst of laughter, you kept your gaze fixed on toji’s flatscreen without saying a word. the house's four walls reverberated with the faint sound of a local broadcaster's voice as the two of you sat in quiet comfort.

he hopes he won't have to be the one to break the news by asking, “does your father know?” he despised doing things behind his back, but if you wanted him to, he could keep a secret. you admired that you could talk to toji about nearly anything, which was one of his best qualities. he wasn't patronizing or disciplining like your dad.

yes, you adored your old man dearly, but there are instances when hearing someone else's point of view than that of a parent can be quite beneficial. toji. would undoubtedly advise you of right and wrong, but he would never make you feel bad about yourself.

we’re human beings and we all make our fair share of mistakes.

by this time, you were no longer sobbing and you were getting a little bit closer to the man. his side profile is followed by your suckling eyes as you savor his sensitive features. even though you've known toji since you were in your early twenties, you've always thought he was gorgeous, but time has been kind to him. as excellent wine ages, so was he. hell, he probably tasted as delicious as he appeared—

toji starts, somewhat unexpectedly, “y'know, for what it's worth, i think you're an amazing woman." he fumbles with the silver chain dangling from his chest before saying, “you’re pretty, you're smart, and you make a mean pho.”

pretty. he called you pretty.

toji’s solemn face prompts you to hastily cover your smile as he adds, “you didn't deserve to be treated that way- and i hope you know that.” you could feel a hand gently caressing your arm. his calluses brushed against your skin as he held it in a warm, rough manner. the gesture almost made you want to pant like a bitch in the heat, even if you had no idea why or how.

he murmurs, “i don't ever wanna' see you cry like that again,” as his dark irises finally contact yours and you two exchange a soft look. unknown to you at the time, something was causing you to approach a little bit more closely than you had intended. you long for a kiss as your gaze moves from his lips to his eyes and back again.

as you prepare to make what would likely be one of your biggest mistakes yet, you close your eyes. you decrease the distance between you two to just a few inches by placing your lips on his. toji ought to have pushed you away at the first moment, but he was driven to submit. the way your mouth felt against his was just so effortlessly natural.

perhaps the novelty of being alone or the warmth of his body against yours is responsible for you feeling this way right now, but all you want is to continue feeling him like this forever.

toji grabs the nape of your neck while you moan into the kiss, luring you in. you take the initiative to straddle his lap as you start to feel a pool between your thighs, your covered pussy pressing on his crotch as you exchanged saliva.

to your surprise, toji pulls away when you ask for more by licking his bottom lip. even before returning to reality, you managed to feel the remorse beginning to rise in your stomach.

“m’ sorry. i don’t- i don’t know what i was thinking,” you mumble, quickly climbing off of his lap and back into your previous position. “i’m sorry. fuck- i’m sorry. i shouldn’t- we shouldn’t-“ you go on, but all that came out of your apology was a weak, anxious whine. toji simply sits there, likely attempting to process what just happened.

you were scared, but you were also humiliated. toji was not only your father's closest friend, but also his business partner. this could endanger his friendships, family, and profession.

you can't bring yourself to say anything else. you start to gather your things and get ready to go to the door, but just as you stand up, a hand delicately grabs hold of your wrist.

“you want me?”

yes.

“toji- i didn’t mean to-“

“yes or no?”

as you swallow, your chest rises and falls from the kiss's delirium. toji manspreads while keeping his hands on his lap and waiting for your response, tapping his foot on floor. he did have an issue with staring. his eyes gave off the impression that they would cut straight through you.

you say, "y-yes," but it sounds more like a moan. when toji hears this, he gets up from his chair and approaches you slowly. his hands were in the pockets of his gray sweats, and he had a smirk on his face. he continues moving until he is directly in front of you, his shirt showing his hardened nipples.

“say it with your chest, yn. did you not just kiss me? or was i imagining things?”

his taunting tone of voice not only annoyed you, but it turned you on too. he tilts his head to the side and looks you up and down, eyes following your curves, “toji, i want you.”

that was all he needed until it was his turn to attack your mouth with pecks. pecks turned into drawn out kisses and those eventually escalated to biting and sucking on one another’s lips. your noses chafed together as toji groans into your mouth. while your tongues danced to the rhythm of desire, toji’s hand came between your pants and the waistband of your pink panties. he shoves his palm inside the lousy fabric to cup your cunt in his hand.

he flicks his middle finger at your folds as you whimper, "want more, please." he can feel your lust on the tip of his knuckle. “i need you,” your nails skim the happy trail under his shirt, causing toji to grunt. the poor guy had no idea how much power you had over him.

“are you gonna’ regret it?” you ask, and yes, it was blunt of you, but you wondered if he was truly aware of the consequences of this action. you had to think of it from his perspective too.

toji was currently obtaining a happy life. he lived a peaceful existence with just him and his son and had a profession that was more than well compensated, but you? you were a grown woman—twenty eight, to be precise—and although you may have acted impulsively, it may have been just what you wanted. but want eventually turns to greed, and you’d hate to do damage to his conscious over your behavior.

“why would i regret you?”

you wanted to spend the evening lusting over his wonderful words— hearing him tell you the sweetest things, but no matter how sincere and charming his question was, your thoughts were elsewhere.

toji and you each had the ability to choose your own paths. everything you've done up to this point has been deemed inappropriate, and even if he were to stuff you full of his cock, it wouldn't matter. this was already out of line as is.

you make the decision to take matters into your own hands and carry on the passionate makeout session by encircling his neck with your arms. you can feel toji's hands pinching your ass cheeks as he begins to cup them to enfold you in his arms. he sits down on the sofa with you still in his grasp, allowing you to straddle his lap as before.

the hard cock sitting pretty in his sweats did nothing but rub up against you. as much as you wanted to take it slow, you couldn’t suppress the urge to let him have his way with you.

“‘ima fuck you so good, princess. so much better than he ever has,” he utters. you lift your hips up to give him room to finally take his aching cock out of his sweats. while doing so, he doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you.

"look at what you do to me, love," to put it mildly, you were in wonder as he grabbed hold of your chin and lowered your head between you both. first the middle, then the base was displayed. the thin pubic hairs that were still attached to his skin were somewhat cut, lying flat against his shaft as the tip of him flashed a brilliant pink.

as his cock stood up, toji flexed his lower abdomen to move it a little. each time he did this, his cock tapped against your belly, creating a pat.

“big huh? it’ll fit, don’t worry,” he ends his sentence with a wink and grasps on to your ass cheeks again, this time, parting them slowly. as you lift up, his cock aligns with your hole, leaking and eager for some attention.

“please be careful. it’s been a while,” you mumble. you turn to look away but he only comforts you, “i will. i promise.”

as toji entered you, your pussy revealed how horny you truly were. your sopping cunt slobbered around him inch by inch, little by little. your juices had covered his cock and made it easier for your walls to expand, adjusting to his size.

the burn causes your mouth to hiss. feeling him wriggle his way in like this made you feel like a virgin all over again. he had the kind of dick you had to mentally prepare yourself for; the kind that, after only two or more minutes, would have you crying and trembling in his hands.

“focus, yn. just focus on us, for right now.” he didn’t have to tell you twice. how could you not focus on just this? toji had your head spinning and your insides bubbling like never before. it’d be hard to think of anything or anyone else other than him, “you’re so deep- shit!” mushing your ass in his hands, he lifts you up and down his cock, making you feel each and every bit of him. toji bites back a moan when you start to become more comfortable— hips moving with his and your ass melting in his palms.

arms incoherently wrap around toji’s neck as he digs deep, moaning into your ear, “you don’t understand how good you feel. can i go faster? wanna’ make you cum all over my lap like the good girl i know you are.” you practically scream yes and immediately after, you hear a clapping sound.

your ass slamming against toji’s thighs was the cause of the ruckus, you realize as you turn to face the source of the noise. as you watch toji’s cock slip in and out of your pussy, he raises his head to stare at the side of your face, getting excited at how hard you clenched down in him as you watched him fuck you vigorously.

“look at how good you’re doing. takin’ that dick like it’s yours. you look so pretty like this.”

his encouraging words appeared to have given you self-assurance. using both of your forces to fill yourself, you start to slam down on him. you felt as though you were handling a lot at once, but you hardly cared enough to flee. god, did it feel wonderful to be taking dick like a pro.

“ooo- it's stretching me, toji! feels so fuckin’ good. i love it so much.” one thing toji picked up from this was how much of a screamer you were. every thrust ended with another high-pitched moan grumbling from your chest.

“you’re a loud lil’ thing, aren’t you? hope the neighbors don’t mind too much, but they’ll understand, right? i’m fuckin’ you so well they’ll have no choice but to understand.”

it was so easy for him to utter such derogatory phrases knowing the conditions his life would be in after— but he felt like he was compelled to. he loved the sensation of listening to your pussy becoming wetter with each passing stroke. incredibly responsive— his favorite.

his thoughts began to flow as a result of your hands grabbing at his shoulders. you were so desperate that you were delighted to accept whatever he was putting down, “i can’t believe mr. ln’s daughter is such a dirty little bitch. how do you think he’d feel knowin’ i’m ruining you like this, hm?”

that was when you came. something about the secrecy just made you all the more ablazed. although this might’ve been just a temporary feeling, you clamored for more— hollering his name and the curses that trailed behind it.

“m’ cumming! m’ cumming- fuck me, toji!”

he laughs, “how good is it, slut? tell me, how’s it feel?”

you could barely produce a single sound. you could only hold your mouth ajar and let out broken whines. your body was drowning in a sheen coat of sweat and your pussy was a bit sore, but you wanted to cum again.

“it feels a-amazingh,” you babble, unable to even utter the pronunciation of your words as he continues to poke at your g-spot. he was fucking you through it, talking you through it, and pulling you right into his grasp to swallow your whines with his mouth.

after he wrung out the last of your juices, he quickly lifts you up and places you on your back. he could now see just how pretty your pussy truly was. two plumped folds sitting on either side of a puffy clit that was in need of some sucking and a cute hole that ached for good dick.

a dream. a dream indeed.

toji wasted no time slipping it in, feeling your walls comfort his cock like a warm hug. every stroke was tender, but he was so slutty. the chain dangling from his neck beamed in your face and out of instinct, you tug on it a little to pull him down. taking a second to indulge in his features. he was so fucking sexy, especially like this— jet black hair sticking to his forehead, muscle tee drenched in sweat, and his small, hidden whines slipping in every now and then. you couldn’t believe you hadn’t done this sooner.

“i-i love this. love your dick so much- makes m-me feel so happy, toji.” now it was your turn to make your words dig deep, bringing him to the checkpoint with just a few praises.

“don’t say shit like that- fuck.”

you bring your hands to his face to cup his cheeks. you gently press your forehead against his and continue whispering sweet nothings against his lips.

“i can’t believe you’re fucking me like this— like you’ve wanted me for so long. you must love this pussy, huh? love when i take you like this?”

you take note of his sudden shudder, his strokes slowly becoming harder as his breath hitches near your ear, “yn, you better fuckin’ stop.”

“i can’t help it, toji. you just fuck me so much better,” you gasp and reached your arms around his neck, burying your head in his neck. you clench around him, and toji nearly loses it. the knot was finally beginning to unravel, his stomach was fluttering, and he was a bit tired, but he was so close— and you were too, again.

“where do you want me, sweet girl? i’m gonna’ to cum,” he asks, and you answer with a stream of yeses and ‘inside inside’. on command, you feel the wave of toji’s cum filling you full. your pussy wet him up with yet another orgasm and you practically collapse.

toji continues to fuck you through your climax, as well as his own. he was being nothing but dirty, yet a hint of weet. whispering things like ‘good girl’ and ‘i’m so proud of you’ over and over. your head was empty and so was your energy scale. you wanted nothing more than a nice soak in a warm bath to attend to your sore figure.

toji pulls out of you, leaving a airy noise being him when he does. his dick was coated in white, and he was still hard as you were wet, but you were both far too exhausted to give it another go.

he sees some of his cum dripping from your pussy and scoops it onto his index finger. lifting that same hand to your mouth, your lips immediately part to taste the mess the two of you made, “revenge tastes sweet doesn’t it?” he asks as you suck on his fingers until completely clean, letting out a moan while doing so.

as he stands to his full height, he stares down at your limp limbs and shakes his head in disbelief, “i didn’t kill ya’ did i?” he breathlessly laughs. you weakly smile and flip him off as he heads down the hall.

eventually toji returns, watching quietly as your lashes kiss your cheeks with exhaustion. still under a trance, he takes a towel he’d gotten from the bathroom to smooth your back and thighs, making sure to get between them as well. as he finishes, you could feel a delicate kiss being planted behind your ear.

his act as a caretaker drove you into a deep sleep, and he was left to reflect on what took place night. he might be jobless, and friendless in morning, but for right now, he’d rather fall asleep to the sound of your breaths as you lay your head on his chest— dreaming of the life you deserve.

©️ SATORUBI 2023 please do not copy, repost as your own, or translate any of my work without my knowledge <33

#⇉☆*̣̥⁄⁄ 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐬 #toji x female reader #toji x black reader #anime x black!reader #anime x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 5 - Confrontation~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: While out for a walk, you run into everyone’s ‘favorite’ Overlord, resulting in a brutal altercation. Recognizing the danger you put yourself in, Alastor is all too willing to offer another deal. 

Themes: The usual angst, mystery, sassiness, cursing, fluff, Valentino so yeah, mentions of blood and bodily harm, eventual smut (it will return), actual plot, slow burn, and of course 18+ MDNI

3.7k Words

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five (You're on it!) Part Six Part Seven

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

When you asked Alastor to prove himself to you, you half expected him to just continue ignoring you around the hotel. He seemed like the type to keep any personal interaction behind closed doors. Keeping some privacy isn’t a bad thing. Before the deal, he stuck to doing his job around the hotel, helping Charlie with whatever new idea or ask she had, and broadcasting his evening radio show. Every so often he might have a drink at the bar, making small talk with Husk and Nifty, otherwise he kept to himself in the shadows.

These last few weeks were slightly different. If he grabbed a coffee, he also poured one for you (always using one of his mugs). He made a point of being at every group activity, standing practically on top of you with a hand on the small of your back. He often offered to accompany you into town if you were going for a walk. “I just enjoy your company dear” he would reason. You’re far from complaining, however, the other residents were starting to notice.

“Alright what’s the deal?” Husk thumps your drink on the bar, his aggressive tone catching you off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“You and Al – what the fuck is going on there? I thought you had more common sense than associating yourself with his sorts.”

Fuckin ouch.

“I have plenty of sense Husker,” you hissed with irritation at what he was insinuating. Vaggie and Angel silently take their seats next to you, feeling the tension of the conversation. “– and if you must know we discovered we have more in common than we thought. You of all people should know keeping someone of his sorts on good terms is wise. Thank you for your concern though.” You throw back your drink, slamming the empty glass into the bar as you stand up.  

Husk tries to smooth over your venom, “Listen kid, you’re still pretty new to Hell…I’m just –“

“Thank you again Husk! Talking with you is always a pleasure.” You cut him off, putting on your jacket and walking towards the hotel doors.

Footsteps trail behind you - followed by a hand on your shoulder, “Hey doll, don’t be too upset with him. We all just….we worry is all. Smiles is still Mr. Mystery pants. Charlie seems to be the only one not worried about his intentions.” Angel offers you a cautious grin. His smile always seems to brighten your mood.

You place your hand on top of his, “Thank you hun. I’m not mad and I understand everyone’s… apprehension…. But I need you guys to trust that I know what I’m doing. You all have enough to worry about around here.” R̵͚̀ŭ̴͓l̷̥̓ȩ̷͒ ̷̢́#̵̧͌3̶̫̈́ ̴̬̾N̶̬͊e̷͇͂v̵̞̚ę̴̿ŕ̵̖ ̵̟̈́ḅ̶͂r̷̤̔í̸͜n̴̳͌g̴̫͐ ̶̢͠a̸̳͝n̶͕̐y̴̓ͅo̸͎̐n̷̚͜ȩ̷̇ ̸̪̑ẗ̶͈́ő̴͜o̷̺̊ ̵̛̬c̴̘̀ľ̴̹o̶͇͗s̸̠̾e̴͇͝

Needing some time to yourself, you decide to take a stroll through Pentagram City. The streets could be dangerous when traveling alone, but Carmilla was kind enough to let you leave with some…equipment. Like a nervous tick, you palm the carmine knife sheathed on your waist. You always hope there isn’t a need to use it but can never be too careful.

Heaven’s embassy clock ticked down, showing less than 100 days until the next extermination. You sigh at the thought, taking notes as you walk. Every year you mapped out places you would be needed most, where you could hide sinners, alleys you could use to corner or escape the Exorcists. Maybe Alastor could help me this time? He did say together we would be more powerful.

Lost in your plans, you don’t realize you’ve started pacing the streets of the V’s territory. It isn’t until you hear someone yelling down an alley that you become aware of your surroundings.

“Listen here, you little fuck – you’re our lowest earner this month and I’m in a bad mood so…” a large demon pins a rabbit-like sinner to the alley wall, pulling a pink and white gun from his hip. “I figured you could help me BLOW off some steam. Now, now, baby - hold still for me and don’t make too much of a mess hmm?”

You look closer and recognize the tall moth demon.

Fucking Valentino.

You see red and make your way down the alley. Hearing your footsteps he turns but not before you blindside him, body slamming him to the ground. The sound of metal echoes as his gun slides across the pavement. The poor sinner runs off without a word. You’re welcome, I guess. You bend over the disoriented Valentino.

“Tough luck being out here today Val – Coincidentally I’m also in a bad mood so let’s have a chat.”

With a gust of his wings Val pushes himself off the ground and towers over you. “Ohhhhh aren’t you CUTE. Ya know people would pay good money to see a spicy chiquita like you fucked into her place, however that little stunt just sealed a different fate for you.” Smoke floods around you, wrapping tightly around your body. Your feet leave the ground as he pulls you close enough to run his tongue across your cheek. “Hmmm…tasty. Maybe I shouldn’t kill you. I could do quite a bit with this body of yours.”

A cynical laugh erupts from your chest. “Oh please – set me down. Save us both the embarrassment.” He cocks an eyebrow at your demand and tightens his smoke’s grip.

Feeling the crack of your ribs almost knocks all the air out of your lungs, but your rage is stronger than any pain. I’ve watched him hurt Angel one too many times. 

“Wrong answer Val.” You concentrate your power, hands aglow as they conjure tiny, razor-sharp needles. With a swift flick of your wrists, they pierce and slice through Val's wings. “Cool thing about needles, they can help pull you together or tear...you…apart.” He howls from the pain, loosening his grip on you. With a little more room to move, you pull yourself back and headbutt him with so much force his glasses shatter. The blow makes his smoke disappear and you drop back to the ground. Time for some fun.

Unable to see clearly - Val frantically feels around for his gun. Pathetic. Crushing his hand with one foot, you use the other to deliver a full force kick to his chin, sending his gold tooth down the alley. “You little BITCH! Who the fuck do you think you are!?” he growls as blood pours from his mouth. You climb on top of him, pinning him down with a knee slowly crushing his dick. Screams of pure agony echo off the surrounding walls.    

You grab his face with one hand and pull the knife from your waist, digging the point into Val’s cheek, “You lay your hands on any of your employees again, I’ll make sure this knife gets buried into your chest. Now be a good boy and let me decorate that pretty little face.” You turn his head and hastily carve “spurc” into his cheek. He cries out with each attempt to move, feeling your knee dig deeper into him. “Shhhh you can take it baby, come on, we’re almost done. That’s what you tell them, right? NOW HOLD STILL.” Mocking his pain you turn his head the other way, slicing “issime” into his other cheek. Blood pours from his face, staining your hands and wrists. “Spurcissime – complete filth. Quite fitting I think.”

You stand up to admire your work and release the demon writhing on the ground. Time to go. Turning to leave, you hear Val call out to someone. What is he crying about now? Without warning you’re hurled against the brick wall - your head taking the worst of the impact. As you struggle to pull your body off the ground, a large, blue claw wraps around your neck to pick you up. Between the blow to your head and your now rapidly declining oxygen, your strength dwindles.

“Are you fucking kidding me Val –You got your ass beat by Carmilla Carmine’s secretary!?”

How the fuck does he remember me?

“No she’s not –“ Val tries to warn but is ultimately ignored.

“It’s okay sweetheart. She can replace you. Sucks though. I always enjoyed staring at that ass. Made the meetings less insufferable.” Vox’s grip tightens around your neck and his other hand slides up your thigh, starting to grope every inch of you. Your vision begins to tunnel as your body goes limp, his grasp controlled and unforgiving.

Just before complete darkness takes over, a familiar voice booms in your ears, “ENOUGH!” The hand around your neck releases and the world around you spins, fading out then back in. You pull yourself to your hands and knees and try to gasp. A stabbing pain rips across your sides with every attempt to collect the air around you. Any adrenaline your body had was long gone now. Oh yeah, cracked ribs. Ouch.

Looking up you realize you’re in Alastor’s room. Any other day you would have inhaled the soft musk filling the air, but right now you can barely take a breath. “Alastor?” you whimper, throat hoarse from being nearly crushed. “Hello? Alastor?” Still silence. You lay back on the floor to try to steady your breathing and wait for the Radio Demon to make an appearance.

It only takes a few minutes to see his shadow appear, followed by Alastor himself. The initial relief you feel is quickly replaced by concern. His jacket was ripped up, and blood trailed across his mouth. “Shit are you okay? What happened?” you try to move to him but double over.

He huffs wiping the blood from his face. “No, you don’t get to ask the questions right now.” His words were near inaudible over the static. He was livid. “I want to know what the FUCK you were doing out in V territory ALONE!?” He rather unkindly picks you up, prompting throaty cries of pain and protest.

Alastor brings you to the bathroom and sits you up on the counter while he digs through his medical kit. You finally gather enough breath to speak, “Last I checked, I don’t need permission to walk around the city. Have you forgotten who I am? I am not some stupid -”

“Well apparently you are.” He bites at you without making eye contact – continuing to pull apart the kit.

Tears well up in your eyes. Too tired to fight them back you let their warmth coat your face. They steadily stream down and drop into your blood-soaked hands. You try to squeak out an explanation, “He…he just hurts so many people. He almost killed Angel. If you ask – “

“I didn’t.” he cuts in.

“I didn’t know he would get Vox in –“

“I don’t care.”

“FUCK Alastor what is your problem!?” you snap, tears burning as they run down your cheeks.

He slams his hands on either side of your legs, caging in your body and leaning right down to your face. If he wasn��t pissed right now, this would be so attractive.

“My problem? What is my problem?” Alastor’s antlers expand and a red ‘x’ glows on his forehead. His body grows and looms over you as his grip starts to crack the countertop, “Do you forget who they are? Of course Vox got involved! And if I hadn’t stepped in, he would have done who knows what to you! His hands already started to defile you - Is that what you wanted? To die at the hand of a perverted, unscrupulous Overlord?” His words were like knives, and you despised every slice he made.

His outburst ignites your own rage, making your demon form flare, “No, Damnit, you don’t get it! Down here you’ve only ever lived for yourself! You’ve never watched someone you care about almost die because of some piece of shit! You’ve never felt the need to tear that person limb from limb for what they did! I wanted to make him suffer and I DID!“ you scream at him until your voice gives out and your body gives up. A deafening silence falls over the bathroom. The only sounds reverberating off the walls are your stifled sobs. Some from anger, some from pain. Ṟ̸̂u̸̫͂l̴̟̈e̷̩͛ ̸͖̽#̷̹̀4̴̎͜ ̴̰̇Ṉ̷̀e̸̲͌v̴̻̈́e̵̥͘ṛ̸͛ ̵̗̑l̴͍̃ė̶̠t̶͈̾ ̴̣̒y̷̬͋ò̵̭u̸̩̽ŕ̶̼ ̴̪̾ẉ̵̑ȅ̴̩ą̴̕k̵̗̐n̶̻̅ȇ̷̳s̸̢͋s̸͖͂e̷̡͛s̶̘̍ ̴͍̏š̴̢h̶̼̐ǫ̴͊w̷͉͝

 Alastor shrinks back to normal. He cups your face gently to clean off the dirt and blood – tending to the few scrapes across your cheeks. You keep your eyes down to avoid his stare. The last thing you want to see is pity from the demon, at least not right now.

As he kneels to clean your hands, his buttery voice finally breaks the quiet, “You know, had you said all of that yesterday, you would have been absolutely right.” He looks up, noticing your head tilt in confusion. “Seeing his hands on you triggered something in me, and I wanted nothing more than to rip apart that piece of shit for….trying to take you away from me. So yes, I do understand. But that doesn’t mean I’m still not cross with you for going by yourself. You’re lucky I had my shadow follow you.” A sly smile flashes up at you. In that moment a gnawing thought crosses your mind. Does he actually care for me? Or is he only afraid to lose the power I can give him?

Either way, he did save you, so you conjure enough strength in your voice to whisper, “Thank you Alastor,” and place a kiss on his forehead.

Once he finishes cleaning the cuts on your hands, he stands and hooks a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His red eyes dart back and forth between yours as if trying to read every thought you could have. A smile paints his face but you can see something more. Worry? Sadness? Regret? You want to question him but the intensity of his stare has you frozen.

“I want to make another deal.” he finally says in a whisper, holding his gaze. Your stomach drops. This is what you’ve been worried about. That he was going to try to break down your walls until you willingly promise him your soul, bounding everything you have to him. R̴̤͑u̵͓̒l̷͊ͅḛ̸̒ ̸̉͜#̴͉̓1̶͇̔ ̸̟͑Ṋ̸͋e̷̮̎v̷̼̾e̸̪͌r̴̥̈́ ̵̳̽t̴̩͐r̶̻͊u̷̘͝ș̴͒t̶͙̂ ̶̝͑â̵̩n̴̙̿o̸̡͗t̸͚̒h̴̯̓ë̸͓́r̶͎̂ ̸̙̎O̸̺͌v̷̧͠è̴̼r̸̹̓l̵͊ͅo̸̜͒r̵̠̂d̸͓̽ . 

“Wh-what?”

“I want to make another deal - you promise to let me accompany you every time you leave these hotel walls and, in exchange, I will teach you how to grow your strength and power so this never happens again.” Well that is not the deal I was expecting.

Relief replaces anxiety. You lean in and give a cheeky smile, “You do realize both of those things can happen without a deal - unless you’re just looking for an excuse to kiss me again.”

“Bold of you to assume I need an excuse, “ he purred, closing the last bit of space between your bodies, lips hovering over yours, ‘but do we have a deal?”

You can barely breathe out “Deal.” before his lips gently press into yours. A glow fills the room but you don’t even notice this time, too lost in his touch to care. 

He reluctantly pulls away, “You should probably stay here tonight. I don’t think it’s wise for you to be alone in this condition.”

“Oh no, it’s fine. I got it –“ hopping off the counter, you almost crumple to your knees. Alastor catches you with a smug chuckle. “I had a feeling you would fight me on that. It is completely up to you of course. However I will warn you I am willing to go to extreme lengths to convince you of the right choice.”

Once again, you’re lifted up and out of the bathroom. “Don’t threaten me with a good time -” You try to tease but lose your breath. A low laugh leaves his chest, “I believe we’ve had enough fun today my dear.” Every muscle in your body welcomes the soft bed as he lays you down on his silk sheets. 

Your eyes flutter heavily as you hear him move about the room, leaving briefly. Am I really going to stay here with him? Guess not too much of a choice now. I know he won’t hurt me, not tonight anyway. The door opens and you feel him climb into the bed with you. 

Turning to face him, you watch him lean back against the headboard, book in hand. “I thought you didn’t sleep.” you joke drowsily. 

“I don't need much but that just means I can keep you company while you rest.”

You prop yourself up on your elbow, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to…but maybe you could tell me some stories about when you were alive? You can be my personal radio show for the night.”

A pleased hum leaves his chest, “As you wish, ma chère.” He wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer. Time might as well have stopped as he begins telling you about his life, his mom, his home, the old radio show. You practically melt into his chest while drinking in every drop of his sweet voice. It was nice to peel back a few layers of who the Radio Demon was.

You wake up in a panic the next morning. Sitting up, your tired brain takes a moment to catch up with your surroundings and you relax remembering the previous night’s events. The mirror across the room catches your eye, showing purple and blue bruises painted across your skin. “Uhhg I look rough.” you whisper to yourself. 

“Still beautiful as ever, my dear.” a voice cut in, making your heart jump into your throat. You didn’t even notice his shadow or him fading into the room while you tried to collect yourself. “Good morning Alastor, and thank you but these marks are not very flattering.” 

He sits on the edge of the bed and lightly traces his hand around your face and throat. His smile almost falters. “I loathe seeing the marks he’s left on you…but I take pride in knowing he won’t ever lay a hand on you again.” a snide grin crosses his face. That’s probably why he took so long to get back to the hotel. I don’t even want to know what he did to Vox in that alley.

“Now! You stay here, I will go grab us some coffee!” Alastor jumps up to rush out the door but you stop him. “No, wait – I want to come with you.” He nods and leans against the doorway, waiting for you to put yourself together. You only bother to run a comb through your hair. No use in trying to cover up anything.

He wraps his arm around your waist while walking down to the lobby. Plopping yourself on the couch, you look up to see Husk staring over a newspaper, eyebrow cocked. A gruff “Hmpf” comes from behind the paper as Alastor walks by into the kitchen.

You roll your eyes, “Don’t even start Husk.” 

He slams the paper down on the bar, “I ain’t startin nothin! But it sure looks like he tried to finish –“ “He didn’t touch me. I wouldn’t even be sitting here if it wasn’t for him – “

Angel bursts through the hotel doors roaring with excitement, abruptly ending your conversation with Husk. “Oh good you guys are here – you will not BELIEVE what happened last night and holy shit what happened to you!?“

He looks mortified at the marks across your face. “Tripped. Please continue.” you say dryly.

Alastor finally returns with coffee, taking his seat right next to you as Angel finishes talking about his shift and how bad of a condition Val was in.

“It’s crazy someone was powerful enough…or ballsy enough…to do something like that to him. He’s pissed and from what I heard, Vox wasn’t looking too hot either.” You shoot a look over to Alastor who huffs smugly, looking away as he takes a sip of his coffee. I fucking knew it.

You turn your attention back to Angel, “If someone knocked him around that much, he’s bound to want to take it out on someone. Are - are things going to get worse for you?” Anxiety grips your chest at the realization you may have only aggravated Angel’s situation rather than helped.

“Eh it’ll be weeks before he even gets back to working the studio, besides no one is going to take him seriously with those words on his face. Whoever got ahold of him CARVED into his cheeks. Fuckin deep too. Heard it was a carmine knife, so Satan knows it’s gonna scar.” The enthusiasm in his voice helps ease your worries.

Husk finally chimes into the conversation, “hmm and uh – what exactly was written on his face?” his eyes look straight through Angel and settle on you. There’s no way he thinks –

“I don’t know some Latin shit I can’t pronounce. I overheard some older demons say it ‘labeled him as dirty’ or something like that.” Angel shrugs it off and continues joking about how great the next few weeks were going to be for him.

You finish your coffee and stand to get more, wincing at how sore you still feel.

“You could have asked me, dear. I was about to get up for more as well.” Alastor motions for you to sit back down while taking your cup. When he walks away, Angel comes over and sits on the floor next to you.

“Soooo…you gonna to tell me who actually gave you those bruises? Did you get freaky with Smiles? I just knew he was into that kinda –“

“He didn’t do this Angel.” Your words are soft but stern. He looks up with worry in his eyes. “Don’t take pity on me like that. I am FINE…” you peek up to see Husk’s back turned. Leaning over Angel’s ear, you drop your voice to a whisper, “and uh, between you and me – the word is spurcissime. Roughly translates to ‘complete filth’.” R̴̗͠ǔ̷̮l̸͍͘ẽ̴̘ ̴̩͑#̴̙͆2̸̥̎ ̴̲͌N̸̰̒e̵͔͝v̴̯̆ë̸͙́r̴̬̀ ̸̩̏t̶̳̍ḙ̵̑l̴̥͝l̵̹̍ ̴͎͆ă̴̤ ̷͖̉s̴͕̕o̸̼͊ǔ̶̡l̶̝̿ ̷̺̓ẅ̵̟́ĥ̵̞a̶͖̿ṱ̵̏ ̸̢̕(̵͉̽ŏ̵̢r̵͚͛ ̷̘̈h̷̯̾ò̴̺w̵͉̑ ̸͔̀m̷̡̈́ủ̷̞c̶͂ͅh̷͇̋)̶̻̂ ̵͖̈p̵͍͒o̶̤̽ẉ̶́e̷̤̚ȑ̵̪ ̸̣̚ÿ̴̥ö̶́͜ù̸͎ ̸͇̑ĥ̸̤ä̷̙v̶͖͒e̶̥͛

You sit back on the couch haughtily, taking pleasure in the absolutely dumbfounded look on his face.  

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@rl800 @fairyv-ice @looking1016 @martinys-world @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp 

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor smut #angel dust #hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #slow burn #female reader #fem reader #x reader #reader insert #husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox the tv demon #fanfic

[shadowspromise]

The World Stopped.

You return home like usual, until your boyfriend Touya notices the blood leaking from your chest.

Warnings: Touya is scared shitless, descriptions of wounds

“Welcome back, took you long eno-“

Touya thought it was another regular day. You would go on a walk and come back around fifteen minutes later. He had a strange feeling after you’d been gone for ten minutes longer than usual, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

“Hey Touya, could you, uh, help me… help me with uh, this?” you stumbled through the door, grasping your chest. Blood was seeping through your shirt and trickling down onto the floor at an alarming rate.

Touya didn’t even think. He just ran. Fast enough to catch you before you fell. He couldn’t even speak, not a single word. The only thought inside his entire body was to keep you alive.

He slung you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing. The adrenaline in his veins wasn’t stopping for anything. He laid you onto your shared bed and he scrambled to the bathroom. Where was the damn first aid kit? The one you used on him every time he came home with half of his staples missing?

The second he found it he darted back into the bedroom. “Isgonnab’okayIgon”fixyou,” he spoke in a single breath, not wanting to waste his energy on useless words. He lifted up your shirt and winced when he saw the wound. Your ribs were showing, the wound was so deep.

“Fuckwheret’fuckthe-“ he could barely get words out as he tore everything out of the first aid kid. “Calm down, Touya baby, I’m probably fine…” you tried to console him but it wasn’t much help when blood started coming out of your mouth. “Shush,” Touya whined, shoving a wad of gauze into your mouth.

“Sorry, ‘m sorry, this’s gonna hurt,” he held your hand as the other poured every antibacterial substance in the kit onto your wound. You cried into the gauze, but it was barely any worse than the pain you were already feeling.

Touya grabbed what was a “motherfucking ton”, as he would call it, of gauze sponges and applied it on top of your wound, then grabbed a gauze roll and wrapped a few rounds of it around your torso, using medical tape to keep it together.

“That should- should help, you stay there an’ I get medicine,” he mumbled, running back to the bathroom to get every pill bottle he could find.

“Uh, okay, uh, just take, just fuckin’ take all of ‘em…” he got one of each pill and put them in your mouth, grabbing your water bottle from the nightstand and holding it to your mouth.

“There you go, good job, you’re so good, I love you so much, just- you’ll be okay,” he slumped down to his knees, holding his head in his hands.

It was like deja vu.

All this time, he would be the one barging through the door and asking for some help with the “couple of scratches” he had littered across his body.

And every time you would panic and shove him onto the bed so you could suture his wounds, and he would laugh at your overreacting.

Now he was on the other end and understand just how damn scary it was.

You fell asleep shortly after Touya gave you the medicine, and he spent all night awake with his fingers on your pulse. All twelve hours until you woke up.

“Fucking hell, finally you woke up. How are you feeling? Better? Worse? Does it hurt anywhere else? Fuck, I didn’t even ask what happened! What the fuck happened?” Touya unleashed all the words he had been keeping inside him all night.

“I feel a lot better but it definitely still hurts…” you started to talk until Touya mumbled something about getting you more medicine. You had to grab his wrist to stop him. “Just stay here with me. You’re so dramatic,” you smiled. “Fuck you, I always say that to you when you have to fix me,” Touya flicked your forehead (lighter than usual) and sat back down next to you.

“So what have you been doing all night?” you asked, a little worried that you were being a burden on him. “Every uh, three hours I think, I changed the gauze on you, and I kept one hand on your pulse while playing on your phone with the other,” he smiled.

“Get your own damn phone,” you complained. “Nah. You’re stuck with me so you gotta deal with it,” Touya smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead. 💙

#bnha dabi #dabi #dabi imagine #dabi is touya #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #mha dabi #mha touya #touya todoroki #touya todoroki x you #touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki is so soft #touya angst #touya todoroki fluff #touya fluff #dabi fluff #dabi headcanons #I love him so much oh my god

[darnell-la]

pairing: dark!stepbro Rafe Cameron x reader

Warning: if you do not like anything to do with assault, do not read this book!

WE DO NOT CONSENT TO ANY COPIES IF OUR BOOKS!

————————————————————————

3rd person pov

“Where’s mom and dad?” Y/n asked Rafe after coming out of her room to the music blasting downstairs and people shouting and talking. “Gone for the weekend,” Rafe said, standing in front of y/n. She could tell he had more to say.

“Sarah?” She asked. “Out with her Pogue friends,” he said, making y/n feel away. She’s always hated the way he treated other people under him. Even her.

“Okay, well, I’ll get dressed and come down soon,” y/n said about to turn around but Rafe spoke. “No, this isn’t your party. It’s just at the house you stay at. You’re staying up here,” Rafe said, sounding very serious like he’s her father.

“Rafe, I can come downstairs if I want to. I’m old enough and I’ll snitch,” she said. “So that shit, and see what happens,” Rafe got close to y/n’s face. “You’re not even blood family. You think he’ll believe you anyways?” He genuinely asked.

“Whatever,” y/n said as she went into her room. She went to shut her door but he pushed it open because he wasn’t done talking. “Stay up here. If I see you downstairs, you’ll regret it, do you understand?” He asked.

“Whatever, Rafe,” y/n walked to her bed and sat down. “That’s what I thought,” the buzz-cut man said before slamming her door shut, almost breaking the hinges. He has no respect for her, yet wants her to respect him.

Y/n laughed to herself, knowing she’d show up downstairs in a couple of hours once he was outside relaxing and smoking with his friends.

She goes down to have a few drinks or so, maybe smoke but she won’t touch any coke. She’s not into things like that and never will be.

It’s been a good two hours, and y/n slowly got ready. She did light makeup picked a nice tight dress and slipped on her platform heels she had bought a while ago.

“Didn’t Rafe tell you not to come downstairs?” A familiar voice spoke behind y/n. The tipsy girl turned around slowly, stumbling a little at that. She started by looking at the man’s feet, seeing his expensive shoes.

Y/n trailed her eyes upwards, checking the boy's outfit out before finally getting to his face. “Hey Top,” the girl said. Topped licked his lips at the nickname she gave as she focused on his face.

“You know, he’ll kill you if he sees you down here,” Topper said, making y/n roll her eyes. “He doesn’t own me,” she said. “I don’t know about you, but everyone knows how serious Rafe is about his things. There’s no other reason for him to not let you down here,” Topper tried giving Y/n a message, but she wasn’t getting it.

“I don’t care,” y/m shrugged whatever Topper said before grabbing a bottle of alcohol and pouring it into her empty cup. “You’re not gonna mix that, princess?” Topper asked.

“I don’t mix,” the girl said before she chugged her drink. “You’re a bad one, aren’t you?” Topper asked, feeling like the step Cameron is just like the rest of the kids. Not all perfect.

“Just a normal girl,” she said as Topper got closer, now towering over her figure, making the girl feel way smaller than she actually was. “I’ve always said you were pretty. You’ve only been here for a few months and I feel things I’ve never felt before,” Topper slowly grabbed y/n’s waist.

“Oh,” she giggled as she turned so her back was up against the counter. Topper’s body pushed up against the smaller girl as he checked her whole figure out. “He’s gonna kill me,” Topper said right before he smashed his lips into y/n’s.

Y/n was initially shocked but gave in, knowing she wouldn’t go further. A kiss isn’t so bad, right? And plus, Topper is hot and from what she can see, a damn good kisser.

“Where the fuck is he!?” You could hear Rafe yell through the party. It took a few seconds for Topper to realize who it was. Someone had seen Topper and his actions and ran to tell Rafe.

“Here he comes,” Topper smirked at y/n, not caring if Rafe yelled at him tonight. He had to risk it and take advantage of y/n in this moment.

“What the fuck did you do with her!?” Rafe had approached the two and grabbed Topper, pulling him away from y/n by the front color of his expensive golf shirt.

“Nothing we all wouldn’t do, bro,” Topper said trying to keep a smart look back because he knew, Rafe would punch him right here and there and he couldn’t sue his best friend.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch her again. I already told you about that shit,” Rafe slightly spat on the boy. Topper has never seen Rafe this angry. “If I see you anywhere close to her again, I’ll drag you under the stomach of my boat until your lungs fill with water,” Rafe threatened before pushing him off.

“What’s up with you?” Y/n giggled as Rafe walked up to her. He kept his mouth shut and grabbed y/n’s arm, pulling her through the ground. If he spoke a word to her, everyone would know what kind of man he was.

“Ow, Rafe!” Y/n felt her wrist ache as he pulled her upstairs against her will. “Rafe, stop! I’m upstairs now. I won’t go back down-“ y/n spoke but got cut off by Rafe’s hand wrapping around her throat quicker than she could have imagined.

“You shut the fuck up! I gave you a chance, but you brought your ass downstairs and opened your slut legs right open for my best friend,” Rafe face began to turn red. “I didn’t open my legs, Rafe,” Y/n said, a bit hurt by what he called her.

“Oh, really? So this right here isn’t opening your legs?” Rafe asked as he began grinding on y/n. “Rafe, stop,” y/n tried pushing Rafe back by his stomach but he kept grinding as he tightened his grip on her neck.

“No, no, this isn’t opening your legs, so we’re good, right?” Rafe said as y/n fought harder. “What’s wrong now? You don’t like it all of a sudden?” Rafe asked as y/n struggled.

“Oh, but you love dry-humping my best friend in front of the whole party to embarrass me, huh? To give him what’s mine!? Is that what you did? Give up your pussy for some wannabe me?” Rafe asked in y/n’s ear.

“I-I’m not yours a-and I didn’t even fuck him, Rafe! I-I just made out with him,” y/n tried helping herself, but Rafe wasn’t having it. “Yeah, making out? Do you think that shit’s cute? You think being known as a whore is cute?” He asked.

“I’m not a whore!” Y/n yelled in his face. Seconds later, Rafe turned the girl around, disconnecting his hand around her neck to her hair. “We’ll see about that,” Rafe said as he began tugging at his belt and Jeans.

“Rafe?” Y/n asked, knowing something going wrong. “Rafe, what are you doing?” She asked. The girl stayed confused until her dress was lifted and her underwear ripped off smoothly.

“What the fu-“ y/n went to complain but Rafe pulled her face back by her hair and then slammed the side of her face into the wall. “Don’t make this worse,” Rafe tried warning her.

The girl began yelling and cussing the man out as he helped himself grow harder than he’d ever been. She began threatening him and telling him how she’ll beat his ass if he doesn’t get off of her, but he couldn’t care less abt her lies.

“Listen to me, and you wouldn’t be in this situation,” Rafe said before he thrust his cock into his step sisters cunt until his knees bucked. “No!” Her cry cracked as she placed her hands on the wall to brace herself.

“Tightest pussy I’ve been in,” Rafe growled in the poor girl's ear before thrusting his hips repeatedly against her ass. “S-Stop,” she begged, but Rafe wrapped his free hand over her mouth just so he could fuck her harder and not get caught.

“Keep your pretty ass upstairs next time, away and hidden from all these horny fucks. All they want is what I have,” Rafe’s hips moved like a dog, feeling every inch of her walls rub against his cock.

“As soon as you were introduced to me in those tight-ass jeans, I knew I had to do something about it. Can’t have my sis out here soaking another man’s cock when you’re supposed to soak mine “ Rafe dug his nails into this girl's skin, making her whimper.

“P-Please,” y/n’s words were muffled. “You’re close?” Rafe asked, feeling her walls tighten around his cock, almost causing him to cum right then and there. “What did I say?” He chuckled as his ace leaned close down her ear. “A fuckin’ whore,” he spat then began slamming into her whole, loving the way she gripped him.

Y/n cried in pain and pleasure as the knot in her stomach grew harder to hold. He knew this. He knew what he was doing to her body, and couldn’t stop. He won’t stop.

“What would they think if you got pregnant by your stepbrother? Would everyone still think you’re an innocent cute little girl? Or will they see you hoe I see you?” Rafe got into the poor girl's head as her legs started giving out in her.

“Let’s see,” he said. It didn’t take long for y/n to cum around Rafe’s cock, and didn’t take long for him to fill her up right after. He’s been dreaming about this moment for too long. Now he finally has her where he wants her.

“I-I’m on birth control,” y/n sobbed low. She’s now on the ground, legs tired while he was fixing himself up. “Hmm, maybe I’ll get that fixed, but for right now, go to your room, and don’t let me catch you downstairs again tonight,” Rafe said before walking off and downstairs with her cum stains on his shorts.

Y/n slowly got up and limped to her room, thinking to herself. She knew something would have happened if she went downstairs, but she didn’t know this. She didn’t know he was capable of something like this.

He fucked her against the wall so easily and with no remorse. He enjoyed it and fucked harder when she let out a too-loud cry.

Now she’s in her room, feeling his cum leak out of her hole in discussion. There was no way she could wash him off, and even if she did, she didn’t know that Rafe would come back again and again just to rub himself all over her just another time.

#18+ #18+ content #18+ fic #18+ minors dni #18+ only #18+ post #smut #pure smut #cnc k!nk #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe obx

[sinsinsininning]

A little bit Softer

Chapter 3.

Eustass Kid x crew mate!fem!reader

TW: Smut at the end (female masturbation and fantasizing), talks of weapons, no y/n use, talks of DV and murder ofc

~~~~~

It didn’t take much to convince Killer to reset a course for the West Blue, Kid just said he had a vendetta to settle and that was that. Killer put the puzzle pieces together after a minute.

“You think she’ll like you more after killing her ex?” He asked the captain as they poured over the maps, his head jerked up.

“THEY NEVER DATED!” His head dropped back to the maps before popping up again. “AND YES SHE WILL!”

“Really?”

“Of course! Chicks dig revenge and murder.” Kid said with a confident smile.

“Of course.” Killer adjusted the compass. “But perhaps you should also try… more traditional means of courting.” Kid’s face scrunched up so he amended. “Flirting?” Kid was still making a face but shrugged.

“You mean like flowers and shit. Where the fuck am I gonna get flowers?”

“Not flowers necessarily-“

“We’re in the middle of the fucking ocean!”

“No I meant-“

“You don’t even know if she likes flowers.”

“It doesn’t-“

“Or even the kind of flowers she’d -“

“Enough about goddamn flowers!!” Killer yelled, earning them a few looks from crew across the deck, Kid shouting was normal, Killer shouting was wild.

“Keep it down, will ya?” Kid was deadpan. “You’re the one who brought up flowers man.”

“I’m fucking done.” Killer shot off, leaving his dumbfounded captain behind.

“So dramatic.” He grouched. In his place Killer sent Wire to assist with navigations and planning where and when to stop for supplies.

“So why’re we veering so off course? This will add several weeks to our trip.”

Kid paused. Should he tell Wire this is to murder your ex captain and make you feel safe around him? Nah.

“There’s a captain I wanna take out. I don’t know much about him but he’s in the West Blue.” Kid said cautiously. “Wanna kill him before we get into the Grand Line.”

“Oh? Well you know our newest rookie? The sniper?” Wire lit up talking about you, Kid felt a small pit in his stomach. “She’s from the West Blue, I wonder if she could help chart our journey. I can run and find her.”

“NO!” Kid shouted, now some of the crew were looking again. A few even inched closer to eavesdrop. “I’m not having a rookie chart a map, you can do it yourself. Don’t be fucking lazy.” Wire shrugged good-naturedly and continued with his protractor.

“So why exactly do you want this guy dead?”

“You’ll find out when we get there.” Kid grumbled, Wire again shrugged and the pair worked in silence as the sun set.

The deck cleared slowly as night approached and Killer sent you to fetch the two men for dinner. Your steps were quiet as you approached, Kid wouldn’t have know you were there if it weren’t for the metal on your belt. He could feel your eyes on him, sharp in the dark, as you watched for a moment quietly. With his back mostly to you, he doubted you knew that he knew you were there.

The familiar desire to show off bubbled up in his chest, so he made a show of clapping Wire on the shoulder.

“That’s a good stopping point,” He said, tone much happier than normal. “After dinner help me finish this and we should be done in no time.” That was high praise from the hot headed captain and Wire’s face brighten considerably.

“Sure captain!” His smiled slipped only a little when he stood up straight and saw you on the stairs. The gears in his head turned and he grinned wider. It was cute seeing how the captain turned so mushy around you, if he didn’t value his life he may have pushed it.

But the moment passed as you finished ascending the stairs, steps heavy to announce your presence.

“Killer said dinners ready.” You said plainly, tone flat and face neutral. Kid deflated a little, but Wire was quick to step in.

“Thank you! Your timing is as wonderful as always.” Wire tried gently baiting you into some casual teasing, but since your last conversation with the captain you’d been very subdued around him. “Will you be joking me and Hip or are you planning to abandon us yet again?” The ‘for the captain’ was implied, but you and Kid still felt it, both faces blushing.

Kid busies himself with putting the navigation tools away, while you glare at Wire.

“I’m actually not eating dinner with anyone,” You said, voice strained. “Try not to cry yourself to sleep tonight.” Despite your awkwardness around the captain, you still had to get your dig in.

“What? Why not?” Kid asked before Wire could, whipping his head around to glare at your glare. You turn and started walking back down, Wire close behind you.

“I’m working on weapon repairs,” You offer, after a pause you continue. “The soldering iron smells awful. Makes me sick. So I’m not eating until I’m finished and don’t have to worry about throwing up.” Kid catches up with you, but it’s Wire that asks.

“Darling you shouldn’t skip meals. When was the last time you ate?” His voice is soft with concern.

“I had breakfast, it’s fine, I’m not even hungry. I’ll be finished before midnight.” At the door to the mess you pause to let Wire go through first. “Killer is gonna save me a plate.”

Kid felt dizzy with anger. He barely got to see you at all and the one time he can reliably count on being near you was gone? Yeah he complained about the force contact, but so what! And sure logically, he knows it’s only one night, but fuck off he doesn’t want to be logical.

He can’t be mad at you of course, you didn’t do anything wrong but still. He wanted to grab you by your shirt and sit you down beside him and make you eat. Since he couldn’t do that, he decided to skulk into the mess hall, snatch his plate and stomp back to the deck to eat by the maps. All eyes on him.

You watched his display, surprised by him, Wire gave you a dreary smile and sat down. Killer didn’t even turn his head from the stove, calling out to you.

“Make sure he doesn’t spill food on anything important.” He orders, you wish you could pretend you hadn’t heard but he’d just chase you down.

“Why me?” You shout, not moving from the open doors. “I got shit to finish.”

“Do it before I put you on barnacle duty.” He points behind him. You groan and stomp off to find your pissy captain who you were still scared of but now it was primarily anger. Worse yet, everyone was watching with big grins, you wanted to scream.

You make your steps quiet as you return to the deck, unsure of where exactly he went. His grumbling reaches your ears and you follow it up to the second tier. He was hunched over the desk, maps thankfully put aside, practically chewing his fork. His eyes glance at you then away then double take.

For the first time you’re able to see the shift in him that the crew keeps seeing. The harsh lines of his face smooth away as the anger shifts to surprise and wariness. His eyes stay on you, soft and alert, as you stand awkwardly by the mast. He watches you watch him, his face and body language so open compared to usual.

Finally the intensity becomes too much for you and you turn your head to look over the sea. From the corner of your eye you can see him still watch you, but his shoulders are stiff. You inhale deeply once, the salty air comforting.

“Killer said not to get food on anything important.” You say bluntly, shifting from one foot to another as you glance at him again. His face shifts to annoyance.

“Oh fuck him, it was one time!” He grumbles again and tucks back into his food.

You almost leave at that. You’d done what Killer had ordered. You can go now right?

Instead you lean against the railings, he’s watching you again. You contemplate what you’re about to do, his chewing slows down, taking his time with each bite.

“What did you get food on?” You ask and he nearly chokes on his fork. You never initiate conversations anymore, beyond the respectful ‘what do you need sir?’ He coughs once and you turn to watch him, a little concerned.

“It was nothing,” He finally chokes out. “Well I mean, it was our first bounty posters. Killer wanted to keep them, you know, for posterity or some shit. But I got marinara sauce on them and he got so pissy!” You laugh and he freezes mid story.

“Were you in the kitchen?” You ask through giggles.

“Nah, the medic room,” He smiled, face a little red again.

“Why the fuck were you eating marinara sauce in the medic room?”

“It wasn’t just a straight bowl of marinara sauce you freak! It was spaghetti, but I didn’t spill the pasta.” He huffed, but his grin told you he wasn’t actually mad. “Anyways I’d feel bad but he got a copy of those posters like the next day with the newspaper. He’s just a baby.”

“He’s sentimental, it’s sweet.” You laugh again at your own words. “He’s the-“ you pause to laugh harder at your next sentence. “He’s the Kill-“ You can barely breathe.

“Spit it out, freak!” He cackles at you. Finally you gather yourself enough to say.

“He’s the Killer with a heart of gold.” You burst out laughing, Kid stares at you for a moment before joining.

“That’s what you were dying to say?” His laughter finally putters out along with yours. “That’s the shiftiest joke I’ve ever heard. Fuck me that’s not even a joke.” You whip your head to face him, shock and hurt across your features, his breath catches in his throat. Your hand pressed to your chest in a pitiable display.

“You really know how to hurt a gal’s feelings.” Your grin is the only clue that you weren’t actually hurt. He glares at you again.

“Oh fuck you! Go finish your repairs before I make you hand scrape all the barnacles!”

You laugh as you make your way to the stairs, calling out behind you.

“Killer already threatened me with that.” You wave.

“Who the fuck does Killer think he is threatening you!” His breath catches again after his outburst. You just laugh again and walk down the steps.

You’re too busy chuckling to notice the doors to the inside shifted just as you reached the final step. As you pass the galley, you don’t peek your head in to acknowledge the crew. If you did, you’d notice not a single plate of food is finished. Everyone scarfing down their portions to make up for their eavesdropping.

You continue on to the crew workshop, smile on your face.

~~~~~~

It’s past midnight when you finally finished repairing all the weapons that were damaged over the last few weeks. Most were simple, clearing up gunpowder from barrels, realigning sights, sharpening blades. But some required actual welding and blacksmithing, a skill you had… exaggerated on your ‘resume.’

It wasn’t that you didn’t know how to do it. It’s just been so long since you did. On your old crew it wasn’t your job and you weren’t allowed to do it. So the last time you’d actually repaired weapons or did any blacksmithing was on your home island years ago.

So you’d let some weapons pile up as you relearned how to properly reshape a lock on a shotgun or how to file out the muzzle so the shots could be straight again. And as a result you’d had a lot of projects to catch up on, it didn’t help that you felt so frazzled by the size of the list that you took extra time to avoid fatal mistakes.

Now here you were, covered in grease, sweat, and oxidized iron. Despite your hunger, your nose was still too full of the foul scent to even think about eating. Normally you weren’t so sensitive but it was really affecting you tonight (day?). So you decided a shower is next on the list, glancing at the clock you almost wanted to just plop down in bed right now, dreading the early wake up time you had.

But you knew if you showed up for chores tomorrow stinking and your plate still in the galley, it’d be a day full of lectures from Killer, Wire, Hip, Reck, UK…. Basically everyone, including your captain based on his little fit when you skipped dinner. You were tempted to ask Killer about that, but figured it’d only encourage the blond in the end.

The showers on the ship were, much like the bunks, divided. There were two main bathrooms with multi shower units and one large bath tub in each one. Both Kid and Killer had private rooms and ensuites with single showers, so if they wanted a bath it’d have to be in the communal ones. The easiest way to divide it was by gender presentation, masculine people in the larger one and feminine people in the smaller one since there were fewer femmes on board.

The bunks were sorta divided by vibes, at the start you and the male rookie you’d started with shared a bunk with some senior members. Probably to sus out any bad habits or behavior early. Then Killer allowed you to either stay in the bunk with Reck, Wire, and Gig or ask around if another bunk would let you join. It was kinda fun, interviewing for different spots, ultimately you decided on Hip, Emma, Hop, and House. The group was the most calm comparatively, especially with Dive, Pomp, and Quincy sharing a room- the most energetic crew mates all in one space.

You kept most everything you need in the shower cubbies, including some spare PJs, to avoid waking your bunk mates up at night, so you didn’t have to take a detour to grab anything. You strip down and turn the water on, praying there’s at least a little hot water left. As you wait for it to, hopefully, heat up, you take some baby oil from the communal cubby and begin to apply it generously all over yourself.

Usually the oil was used after someone shaved or needed extra moisture, but you knew from experience that nothing got rid of grease and gunpowder like oil. As you rubbed to break up the caked on grime, your mind wandered a little, this was the first time you’d had alone in ages. Normally the showers had at least one other person, or someone right outside the door. It was rare to be alone anywhere on this ship for more than a few moments.

It was kinda thrilling, you thought, hands slowing down a little to really rub your muscles. You let out a small groan as you press on your shoulder, rotating your neck a slowly to really grind that muscle. The privacy was making you feel warm.

You checked the water and, miraculously, it was heating up. The water washed away most of the grime with little resistance, but a few spots you had to help along. You lather up your wash cloth with your favorite strawberry soap, normally reserved for special occasion, but you felt like tonight was special enough to warrant it. You took your time, resuming your massage from earlier, while your mind wandered.

At this point you’d already decided you’d masturbate, you deserved it obviously, but it’s been so long since you’d had the chance. You struggled to think of erotic scenarios to help you along, not able to rely on physical touch alone. You rinsed off the soap and remaining grime then quickly washed your face. Your hair was next and when you finally had it conditioned and pinned up to sit, you were still struggling. But the urge was so prominent you decided to start anyways and hope you mind could conjure something up.

Your hands were experts despite the long break, one hand grasping your own breast, the other rubbing along your outer lips. You pinched your nipple as you finally slid a finger over your clit, a gasp leaving your lips. With a shiver and more pressure you rubbed again, slick arousal spilling out.

Your mind couldn’t conjure anything, your last sexual encounter was before your first crew and you didn’t want to think about them. A blush spread across your face, embarrassed even in your own mind, that you were about to picture members of your own crew. It felt so forbidden, despite the lack of restrictions on relationships between crew, you’d never let the thought linger.

Now you tried to picture some members, it was hard though, even though you had some hot crew mates. It felt… awkward to imagine them like this. Still as your fingers kept pressing, moans leaving your mouth barely concealed, you scrolled through the list.

Wire and Heat were handsome, but not your kinda handsome, Hip was out despite her beauty as well as your other bunk mates, Quincy and Pomp were also a no, not your vibes. You paused on Killer, the mask helped evade the awkwardness, but after a moment picturing him you felt like he’d know what you’d done the second you saw him tomorrow.

You shivered and whined, frustrated that you had such a mental block. You tried again with some crew members you knew a little less, but still nothing.

‘Could try Kid.’ You nearly slapped yourself at the thought, you couldn’t help it.

At the start of your journey with the crew you admired him so much and maybe would’ve found him attractive…possibly. But now you were so nervous around him….. but he was acting different now, he wasn’t shouting or throwing things. He’d smelled like warm musk and metal when he’d crowded you the other day in the med bay, pleasant and masculine, surprisingly mellow.

Your fingers dipped into yourself, so you kept thinking of him. What his hair would feel like. What his back would look like with your scratch down it. What his dick would look-

Ok, too much, you gasped and whined again, curling your fingers. You panted as you increased the pace of your fingers and thoughts.

Would he eat you out?

Would he fuck you slow or fast?

What about positions? Doggy? Missionary? Would he let you ride him or would he never relinquish control?

You hunched over as you thought about his eyes when you’d spoke about you ex captain. Angry and possessive, why? You were new.

‘But you’re his, remember?’ You thought, head dizzy as you reached down with your other hand to rub your clit. ‘You’re his now and he takes care of his own.’ Your mind was depraved as you wondered if he was going out of his way to murder that man, to impress you.

Fuck, you were so close.

You pictured him and you fucking after a battle, he seemed like the type. He’d be covered in cuts and blood, mostly his enemies, huffing in your ear little praises. Maybe this was after he killed Badger, a little celebratory fuck before returning to the helm. A reward, for him or you, you’re unsure.

You picture him crushing you close to him, legs around his waist, hands in his hair. You picture him, still thrusting, leaning down to kiss you. The image of a gentle kiss during a rough fucking brings you over the edge.

Most of your moans were muffled as you bite your lip, rubbing yourself through your high, but you know if anyone was awake right now they’d know what you were doing. The thought makes your thighs clench and you finally rinse your hair, the water now cool against your heated skin.

You wrap your hair up and get dressed, skipping the lotions and skin care so you could hustle and grab your plate. As you make your way to the galley, you pass by Kid’ personal workshop, you can hear him working and moving things around. Your face heats up as you remember your shower thoughts, so you soften your steps and hurry by.

After scarfing down your meal, you pass his workshop again, it’s quiet now. Feeling dread that he may catch you up so late, you rushed back to your bunk. You were out the moment your eyes closed.

#one piece #one piece smut #eustass kid #eustass x reader #kid x reader #one piece kid

[mynameismckenziemae]

can you do a bob x reader? anything w protective bob? i’m a sucker for a “who did this to you?” trope🤭 i trust your creativity and writing, take any liberties!!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! A-hole ex boyfriends, talks of previous domestic abuse, violence, blood, (non consensual) derogatory language, a little smutty-smut at the end.

This is a bonus scene from Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone (first chapter here)

________________________________________

“We’re meeting the caterers at the venue at 5 but otherwise we don’t have anything planned for today,” you tell Bob as you brush mascara on your lashes.

You were back home in Minnesota with Bob for a long weekend to see family and do some wedding planning.

“What would you do on a cold rainy day growing up?” Bob asks, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Roller skating, but the rink closed shortly after I graduated high school, otherwise we’d go to the mall or the movies. That’s actually where I had my first kiss with Andrew Fischer,” you sigh dreamily just to tease him.

He’s on to you though and pinches your butt. “Can I take you to the movies?”

“I’d love that. Maybe you’ll get a kiss too, if you’re lucky.”

________________________________________

“I’ll drop you by the door and meet you inside after I park,” Bob says as he pulls into the lot.

“Thanks, not sure you’d want to be seen with me if my hair were to get wet,” you laugh as you check it in the mirror. Your hair was a curly mess on a good day; the humidity was making it borderline out of control.

He shifts into park and grips your knee before you get out. “I love your hair, and there’s nothing about you that would make me embarrassed to be seen with you, Sun.”

You’d been kidding but the reassurance was always nice.

“Love you,” you smile and press a kiss to his lips. “Meet you in there.”

________________________________________

You wait in the quiet lobby, humming to yourself while you watch for Bob.

“Sunny?”

A cold chill runs down your spine at that voice.

“Hi Di-Derek,” you say, almost calling him dickhead (Bradley’s fitting nickname for your ex-boyfriend).

You haven’t seen him since you caught him in bed with another woman and were happy to see he looks awful

“I thought that was you, I thought I’d say hi since I was walking past. What are you doing here? Last I heard you were still in Cali, fucking some guy in the army,” he says casually, like what he just said isn’t extremely offensive.

“I-I’m not…we’re-,” you stutter but trail off as he keeps talking, stepping closer as your back hits the wall.

“You know, you could lose a few pounds, and fix this god-awful hair,” he says, tugging none too gently on a strand, smiling at your wince. “Otherwise you look good. I’d still fuck you.”

“I suggest you back away from my fiancé,” Bob says lowly from behind you both.

“Fiancé? Why didn’t you say so?” Derek laughs in your face before pushing away from you and turning to Bob. “I’m Derek, Sunny’s-“

“Pathetic ex who cheated on her,” Bob finishes for him.

Derek’s fuming as he laughs cruelly. “Can you blame me? I know she was cheating on me too. Always gone, always begging for other guys' attention like the slut-“

You flinch at the sickening crack of his nose when Bob’s fist meets his nose.

“What the fuck?! You’re gonna regret that. I’m calling the cops,” he sputters as he reaches for his phone, blood pouring from his obvious broken nose.

“I wouldn’t do that, Derek,” you say, finding your voice. “Unless you want to be sitting in jail too.”

“Why?! He hit me?!” He says, shaking with rage as he tries to stem the flow of blood with his coat sleeve.

“Remember that night at the Hard Deck? When you grabbed my arms and slammed my head against the wall? Not only do I have pictures of the bruises you left but Penny has the video of it too,” you say, proud that your voice isn’t trembling.

“I barely touched your arms! And I didn’t slam your head against-whatthefuckever, it doesn’t matter anyway—that was months ago! It wouldn’t hold up in court,” he argues.

“Maybe, maybe not. But Bob here is one of those ‘top 1% naval aviators’ along with Bradley and Jake-who haven’t gone after you only because I said not to. You have no idea what lengths the Navy would go to protect them and how easily things can get swept under the rug,” you saw lowly.

His face pales when he realizes your implication and scrambles to his feet, muttering a half-assed apology before running outside.

Bob checks you over before wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head, “I’m okay. I never cheated on him, you know that, right?” You murmur against his chest.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I know you didn’t. Do you want to get out of here?”

You take a deep breath. “No, I’m not going to let him ruin our day.”

________________________________________

“Is your hand okay?” You ask as you take your assigned seats.

“Yeah it’s fine, I didn’t hit him that hard.”

“Hard enough to break his nose,” you laugh. “It’s gonna hurt like a bitch when they set it.”

“Good,” he says darkly.

“Was that the first time you’ve punched someone?”

“Besides when I was a kid fighting with my brother? Yeah.”

The previews start but you can’t seem to forget how hot it was when Bob didn’t hesitate to defend you. It reminded you of something.

“Do you remember the night we met and you scared of that jackass who called me a whore at the Hard Deck?” You whisper.

“Yeah, I remember everything from that night,” he responds, brushing hair off your forehead.

You smile. “Then you remember what I said after?”

His eyes darken as he recalls. “You said too bad we’d just met because you wanted to get on your knees to show your gratitude.”

You nod as you sink to your knees in front of him.

“Right now? Here?” He whispers as he looks around. But it’s just the two of you in the empty theater.

He’s already hard when pull him out of his gray sweatpants. You waste no time and use your hands with your mouth to work him over.

His head falls back with a low groan as he cums, filling your mouth as the opening credits come across the screen.

Just as you sit back down, an elderly couple enters the theater, sitting just a few seats over.

You can’t help but giggle when Bob shakes his head with a chuckle of his own.

________________________________________

Later you send a message to the group chat as Bob drives to the caterer.

Sunny: Guess who we saw today?

Rowan: Please don’t say Derek.

Sunny: It was Derek.

Bradley: *dickhead.

Sunny: Yeah…I almost called him that 😬

Bradley: Why didn’t you?

Sunny: I was waiting for Bob to park and he kinda had against the wall.

Bob parks and checks his phone.

Bob: He literally had her against the wall when I walked in.

Nat: OMG Sunny! Are you okay? Did he hurt you?

Rowan: Holy shit! Are you alright?!

Jake: What the fuck?! I’m gonna fucking kill him. I should’ve that night.

Bradley: ^Agreed.

Sunny: It’s okay. I was a little shaken up but I’m okay too.

Rowan: Thank God. How’d you get him to leave you alone?

Sunny: Bob rearranged his face with his fist ☺️

Jake: HELL YEAH!

Bradley: That’s my boy!

Nat: Just when I thought I couldn’t love you more Bob. 😍

Jake: Hey!

Nat: 😘

Rowan: Hahaha that’s awesome! Did he call the cops though? I could definitely see him calling the cops

Bob: He was going to until Sunny put him in his place.

Sunny: I brought up the pictures I took of the bruises and the video Penny sent me. I also told him how Jake and Bradley would have no problem going after him. I might’ve also said that the Navy wouldn’t hesitate to cover for them too 🤫

Jake: Fuckin ‘a right!

Bradley: I’d gladly sit in prison for that.

Rowan: ^That’s fine, but only if there are conjugal visits

Bradley: Duh 🙄

Rowan: Watch it Bradley…

Bradley: Yes ma’am 🫡

Jake: Gross…

Jake: Kidding, please go on. I wanna see how this plays out.

Nat: ^Agreed🍿

Sunny: Lolol I love you guys.

You silence your phone with a smile as Bob opens your door and offers his hand.

________________________________________

A/N: I hope I did it justice @lexixstewart

Tagging (please lmk if I’m annoying you by tagging you! I’ll take you off my taglist!):

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