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alltheirdamn · 2 months

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DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

PART 3

Summary: Swear? On my life. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 4.1k Warnings: Pre-outbreak (AU), mechanic!joel, oral (f + m receiving), fingering, squirting, deepthroating, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, body worship, spanking, unprotected piv sex, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (darlin', babydoll, cowboy), rough sex, creampie, mirror sex, shower sex, playful banter and teasing, so much fluff it'll make your teeth ache, porn WITH plot now A/N: I really just want to thank EVERYONE for all the love on this lil fic. It was really only meant to be a small one-shot for shits and giggles and you guys just made it mean so much more to me ;') I hope I did their love story justice <3

Masterlist | Ko-fi

“I think this is the last of it,” you huffed, handing Joel the final box off the moving truck.

It had been six months of long-distance before Joel finally put his foot down and demanded that you move in with him and his daughter Sarah. It didn’t take much coaxing since you were just as impatient as he was to live together. You had been practically glued to your cell phone over those six months, always staying up late talking to him. You learned all about him: his career, his life in Austin, his daughter, and his wife, who had left him after she was born. You came to find he was a fantastic listener, too. He’d sit there and listen to you babble on and on about your job at the marketing agency and how traffic in California always pissed you off. Once in a while, he’d hum in agreement with your complaints but always found a way to shut you up with sweet words…or dirty ones. It was no surprise to you that he had a filthy fucking mouth when he wanted to turn you on…which happened all the time.

You followed him into the house and up the stairs to the bedroom, where he set the box on the ground. Exhausted, you flung yourself onto the bed, exhaling a sigh of relief to be done moving finally. Joel plopped down next to you, staring off into the ceiling fan with an even louder exhale.

“Not sure why you’re huffin’ and puffin’, babydoll. I did all the heavy lifting,” he said, his voice soft and teasing.

You rolled onto your side, glaring at him with sweat still dripping down your face.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” you grumbled. “I’m not used to this damn humidity. It’s almost fucking eighty degrees in December! This is ridiculous.”

“Aw, s’my girl missing the coast?” he feigned a pouty face.

“Fuck off,” you scoffed, rolling over to face the other direction.

“I’m just kiddin’, darlin’. I’m happy you’re here.”

“I am, too,” you sighed.

Joel moved with you, the steady warmth of his back pressing against your body. You nuzzled into him, breathing in synchronicity, a moment of stillness in the chaos. You were home.

“Joel,” you whispered.

“Yeah, babydoll?” He asked, pressing a gentle kiss against your neck.

“I need you.”

Moving your bodies in unison, Joel rolled on top of you, holding your face in his hands. He was softer than before, his eyes washing over you with a happiness you could only have dreamed of. You arched into his touch, pressing your lips to his for a slow, hungry kiss. His mouth moved on yours with such ferocity you had no choice but to surrender completely.

“S’all you needed, babydoll?” Joel murmured against your open mouth. “Just some attention and lovin’?”

“Maybe just a lil’ bit,” you confessed.

“Sarah’s not gonna be home from school for ‘few hours,” he mused. “Reckon, I can give you all the attention you want.”

You tugged at the hem of his shirt, giving him a playful grin. In a matter of seconds, you were both fully undressed. Joel leaned back on his heels, taking in your naked body spread across his linen bed sheets. His hand wrapped around one of your ankles, his fingers slowly sliding up your calf and thigh. He never took his eyes off of yours as his hands continued roaming over the curves and planes of your body; each brush of his finger a shockwave through your skin.

“If I ain’t the luckiest son ‘a bitch alive,” he shook his head, smiling down at you.

“You’re not too bad yourself, cowboy,” you replied.

Joel was fucking gorgeous…everywhere. You knew all this time he was broad and muscular under that damn black shirt, but seeing his bare chest on display was something else. A spattering of hair covered his chest and down his stomach, a dark trail of it leading to his hardened cock. Every inch of him was defined, yet so soft, from how his biceps tensed and flexed to the curve of his stomach as his waist tapered down. You wanted to spend eternity exploring each freckle and mole, connecting the space between them on his tanned skin with an array of kisses.

Cupping one of your breasts, Joel bent down to capture your lips again, his other hand falling between your inner thighs. Your arousal coated his fingers as he slid them between your legs, teasing you with the pad of his thumb against your clit.

“Can’t believe this is s’all mine,” he whispered into your ear. “You hear me, darlin’? You’re all mine.”

“I’m yours,” you agreed.

Joel’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes drawn to where his fingers worked at your body. You whimpered and spread your legs wider, urging him to keep touching you. You never wanted him to stop, never wanted these moments to end. Your hands tangled in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp.

“What ya’ want, darlin’? Use those words.”

“You…I—I want you,” you panted. “I want your cock, please.”

“Want it or need it?” He questioned, applying more pressure to your throbbing clit.

“Need it!” You cried.

Joel pushed two fingers inside you, stretching you out as he curled them deep inside you. He was teasing you slowly, pulling those embarrassing sounds from your mouth as you clenched around his fingers. Your body lit up as the pleasure built slowly, warmth spreading through your core. His fingers curled harder, hitting you at that blinding spot that made time suspend around you. All you could do was cry as the ecstasy swelled inside you, your hands clutching his neck to keep you grounded.

“Listen to those pretty lil’ sounds,” Joel hummed. “Fuckin’ love hearin’ ya cry out for me.”

“I—fuck! Fuck, Joel, please!” you begged. “God, please!”

“Please, what, darlin’? Y’wanna cum? Is that what ya want?”

You twisted your face into the pillow, muffling a scream as your body tensed up one final time before you were drenching him with your release, the sheets under you becoming a complete mess. Your walls clenched around his fingers, pulsing through each ripple of your orgasm. Joel pulled his fingers from you slowly, your body sinking into the mattress as you removed your face from the pillows. Gazing up at him with heavy eyes, you watched as he brought his pointer finger to his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit. Enamored, you stared in stunned silence as he licked away your arousal. Drawing it from his mouth, he pressed his middle finger against your parted lips, coaxing them open.

“Taste yourself, babydoll,” he ordered.

Taking his finger in your mouth, you swirled your tongue, collecting the remnants of your cum. His pupils were blown wide as he watched you, the corners of his mouth twitching with an approving smile. He pressed his finger on your tongue, adding another as he pushed them further back.

“There ya’ go, darlin’,” he said, his voice rugged and dark.

You squirmed under him, needing more. A string of saliva dripped off your bottom lip as he pulled his fingers from your mouth, trailing them down your chin and throat. His hands reached down to hold your hips, flipping you over to your stomach. Hauling you onto all fours, he pressed the tip of cock to your entrance, giving you no time to prepare as he drove into you. The air was knocked out of your lungs as he buried himself deep, holding you steady until he started moving. And when he began moving… he was relentless. Your hands tried to make purchase on the headboard as he railed into you, his hips snapping at a violent pace.

Your orgasm was tearing through you in no time, your cunt squeezing his cock into a vice as warm liquid dripped down your thighs. Joel growled behind you, his fingers bruising your hip bones.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl. Fuckin’ drenching’ my cock.”

His hand came off your hips, delivering a round of slaps against your ass that had you wailing in pleasure. The sting of his hand on your skin was enough to send you over the edge again, that desperate need to cum stirring inside you.

“Joel!” you shouted. “I—I’m gonna cum again, please!”

“I know, babydoll, I know,” he crooned. “I got you.”

You white-knuckled the headboard, another rush of liquid gushing out of you. You were overstimulated and crying as he kept a brutal pace. Another spank, another drive of his cock inside you… over and over in repetition.

“Gonna fill this pussy up,” he grunted. “Y’want my cum, babydoll?”

Words wouldn’t form on your lips; you could only wag your head in approval, needing him to fill you full. Joel wrapped your hair around his fist and pulled your body against his, your back meeting his sweaty chest. He slowed his pace, fucking you deeper and more rhythmically until he was panting in your ear as he caved into his release. You moved in unison, bodies heaving for air as the world dissolved around you. He held you against him for a minute, his teeth grazing your shoulder.

“Did so fuckin’ good for me,” he whispered against your skin.

You whimpered at his praises, letting your body sag into his embrace. Leaning your head back on his shoulder, you hummed in contentment, sinking into the press of his body against yours. Everything felt so right. Three little words were bubbling to the surface, but you swallowed them, too afraid to speak them aloud. You didn’t know if it was too soon; you were so caught up in the moment that you weren’t thinking straight.

“I think I need a nap after that,” you chuckled, leaving those words tucked away in your head.

“Bed s’all yours, darlin’,” Joel said, unsticking his body from yours.

You curled under the covers, his scent enveloping you as you nestled into the bed. Joel leaned down to kiss your forehead, smoothing out your hair. Through heavy lids, you gazed up at him and smiled.

“Get some sleep, babydoll. I’ll be ‘round the house unboxing stuff ‘til you’re up.”

“Thanks, cowboy.”

December passed by in a blissful blur, every day bringing something new. You had found a new job at a marketing agency in Austin, spending the usual 8-5 huddle in groups as you worked through different projects. Joel was always home before you, a plate of dinner waiting on the table for you and Sarah. You teased him constantly about the grease marks on his arms after his long days at work and made sure to tease you right back for the dress and heels you wore every day—which somehow always ended up with you naked on the bed, still wearing your stilettos as he fucked you into the mattress.

It was Christmas morning, and you were waiting downstairs by the tree with Sarah. You both had devised a plan to surprise him with a new watch; his old one had cracked at work while he was elbow-deep working on an old Mustang engine. He never mentioned needing a new one, but you noticed how he would absentmindedly look at his bare wrist at breakfast time each morning.

“You think he’ll like it?” Sarah asked nervously, handing over the grey box to you.

“He’ll love it,” you assured her.

You were nestled into the couch in one of Joel’s shirts and sweats, waiting for the man himself to finish up in the kitchen. Walking into the living room, Joel had his hands full with two cups of coffee and a glass of orange juice squeezed between the crook of his elbow. He grunted at Sarah to grab the glass of orange juice, extending the extra coffee mug to you as he dropped onto the couch cushions.

“Alright,” He yawned. “Let’s see what the fat man got y’all.”

Sarah tore into her presents, squealing at the heaps of new clothes and accessories she pulled from each box. You stole a glance at Joel, watching him look at his daughter with so much love and happiness. You had caught him giving you that same look from time to time, sometimes when you were walking out of the shower or when you were curled up on the couch together watching shitty action films. Maybe he did lov—.

“Open your present, Dad!” Sarah exclaimed, dragging you from your wandering thoughts. “We got you something special!”

“Y’did, huh?” Joel looked at you with skepticism.

You held out the box to him, shrugging with nonchalance.

“Surprise, cowboy,” you grinned.

He did a double take at the box in your hand, shock written all over his features. You looked over at Sarah, who was practically buzzing with anticipation as she waited for her dad to open his gift. Taking the box in his hands, Joel’s eyes shifted between you and Sarah, his big brown eyes softening.

“Y’all really ain’t had to do anything,” he protested. “Got all I need right here.”

You reached over to squeeze his knee, urging him just to open the damned thing. He caved, flipping open the lid to reveal his new watch. The wraps on the watch were made from military green nylon, and the face of it was made from black mineral glass that would be durable and long-lasting. It wasn’t anything flashy or extravagant; you and Sarah knew he’d hate that.

Joel wrapped his hands around the nylon, holding it as he sat silently. You craned your neck to get a better look at his face; his brows furrowed, and his lips downturned.

“You hate it, huh?” Sarah asked quietly.

“What?” Joel shook his head. “God no, sweetheart, I love it. Thank you.”

Sarah’s face perked up at his words, and she hauled herself up from the floor to give him a big embrace. You sat back and let them have their moment, enjoying the warmth floating around the room. Joel looked over Sarah’s shoulder at you, mouthing a soft thank you.

Of course, you mouthed back.

He squeezed Sarah one last time before breaking the hug, ruffling her hair as she pulled away. He worked the watch around his wrist, clasping it on and admiring it against his tanned skin.

“S’too much,” he mumbled. “Ain’t deserve these nice things.”

“Yes, you do,” you responded.

Joel shook his head, for once at a loss for words. Sarah glanced between you both on the couch and gave you a small smile before grabbing her opened presents and disappearing to her room. You turned your attention back to Joel, already finding his eyes settled on you.

“S’real nice of y’all to do this,” he sighed. “I really ‘ppreciate it.”

“She just wanted to do something special for you,” you said, scooting closer to him. “She loves you.”

“I know, I know.”

Joel hauled you into his lap, pulling your arms around his neck before his own settled around your waist. You leaned in close, brushing your nose against his before kissing his lips softly. Those words you had shoved down were coming back up again, crawling through your chest and banging to come out. You couldn’t wrangle them down this time.

“Joel, I—.”

“Don’t,” he whispered.

Your stomach dropped, the happiness you had felt crumbling away. Of course, it was too soon; you had been stupid to think he was ready to hear those words…or even reciprocate them. You chewed on your lip, trying—and failing—to hide your disappointment.

“Don’t say it,” he continued. “I wanna say it first. I love you, babydoll. S’fucking much.”

His features began to blur as tears fell against your cheeks.

“Swear?” You asked.

“On my life.”

Cupping your face in his large hands, Joel pulled you in for a deep kiss, his tongue tracing over your bottom lip as you surrendered to his touch. Your mouths moved together, hands roaming skin, sounds escaping in breathy moans. You hadn’t expected to fall for him so fast—or fall for him at all. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did, and you were happier because of it.

“I love you, too, cowboy,” you whispered.

Later that night, Joel had you laid out on the bed upside down, your head dangling off the edge as you watched him above you through the mirror beside the bed. You could see his lips pressed against your stomach; you could feel the warmth of his mouth on your skin.

“Watch me, babydoll,” he instructed. “Don’t take those pretty eyes off the mirror.”

You groaned as his tongue glided over your clit, each lick soft and slow. You bit your lip, trying to stifle your whines, knowing Sarah was only a few feet down the hall. You kept your eyes trained on the mirror, watching as Joel’s mouth worked at your wet cunt. His nose rubbed against your clit as he plunged his tongue inside you, a traitorous moan falling from your mouth. His eyes connected with yours through the mirror, the brown in his irises nearly black in the dim lights of the bedroom.

“Quiet, darlin’,” he warned. “Be good for me.”

“I’ll be good,” you promised.

“That’s my girl.”

Then his mouth was back on you. He guided you toward the edge of your orgasm, keeping you suspended between bliss and delirium. You couldn’t hold on any longer, white-hot pleasure electrifying your nerves and spotting your vision. Joel kissed each of your thighs, raising his head to capture your gaze again, a lopsided grin plastered on his wet lips. You tilted your head up, the blood rushing back to the surface as you settled into the bed. Joel crawled up your body, caging you between his muscular arms.

“So damn beautiful, babydoll,” he praised.

“You’re not so bad yourself, cowboy.”

He smiled wider, pushing your legs apart as he lined up with your entrance. Breaking you open slowly, Joel rocked into you, his pace slow and sensual. You melted against him, the press of his skin on yours enough to send another wave of pleasure through your core. Your fingers flexed against the solid muscles of his back, his shoulder blades moving with each roll of his hips. Joel’s hand slid down your leg, cupping the underside of your knee as he hauled your leg higher, forcing himself deeper into you.

“Joel,” you whimpered quietly. “Feel’s so fucking good.”

“I know, babydoll,” he whispered. “S’like you were made for me.”

You were mindless as another spasm tore through you, your legs shaking around his waist as your mouth dropped open in a silent cry. Joel chased his release moments later, spilling into you with a quiet slew of curses and grunts. He peppered your neck and jaw in an array of kisses, nipping at your earlobe with a string of praises falling off his tongue.

He hauled you from the bed, carrying you into the bathroom, where you both stood under the spray of the hot water for nearly an hour. It wasn’t long before he had you pressed against the cold shower walls, pulling orgasm after orgasm from your body.

Into the late hours of the night, you found yourself wrapped around Joel, your limbs intertwined under the comforter's warmth. Your head rested against his shoulder, fingers dancing over the hair across his chest. Joel’s thumb rubbed circles around your shoulder blade as he pulled you tighter to his body. The smell of sex and cedarwood filled the air inside the bedroom, and your eyes drifted closed while you focused on the sound of his breathing beside you.

“I love you, Joel,” you sighed, nuzzling into his embrace.

“I love you, darlin’. Always.”

The months faded away, the air turning warmer as summer crept in. Work had been picking up as the seasons changed, and your schedule was always packed from start to finish each day. On a particularly sunny day, you found yourself free for the afternoon after a long morning meeting. Driving through the town, you turned onto a street far too familiar to you now. Aside from Joel’s truck parked in the garage, the mechanic shop was empty. Smoothing down your pencil skirt, you exited your car with a devilish idea in mind. The bells above the door chimed as you waltzed into the waiting room with a devilish grin. Joel perked up from behind the counter, setting down the newspaper gripped between his hands.

“What can I do for ya, miss?” Joel smirked, quickly feeding into your energy.

“Got myself a flat,” you feigned distress, leaning against the counter before him. “Can you help me out?”

“S’gonna cost ya,” he shrugged.

“I’m all outta cash,” you whined, resting your chin on the palm of your hand.

“Gotta credit card?” he questioned.

“It’ll get declined,” you pouted.

Joel let out a heavy breath, scratching his neck as he took you in your exaggerated appearance.

“Well, that’s got you in quite the predicament.”

“A pretty big one, huh?” You stifled a giggle. He knew what you were implying.

“I reckon we can work somethin’ out,” he insisted, nodding his head towards the back door.

You followed him out to the garage, excitement bubbling to the surface. Joel leaned against the hood of his truck, tugging at your skirt to draw you closer, forcing you to stumble a bit in your heels. Wrapping a big arm around your waist, he pinned you to his body, his hand coming up to cradle your face.

“Y’sure are somethin’, babydoll,” he said before leaning in for a hungry kiss.

“Whatever do you mean?” you said sarcastically. “I’m just an innocent woman lookin’ for help.”

“Keep runnin’ that mouth of yours, darlin'. It’ll only get you in trouble,” he warned.

“What’re you gonna do about it, cowboy?” you taunted, running your hands under the fabric of his shirt.

Grabbing the base of your throat with a strong hand, Joel forced you down to your knees. You stared up at him obediently, an eager smile on your lips. With his hand still wrapped around your neck, he used the other to free his cock from his jeans, rubbing the tip of it over your parted lips.

“Better make use of that fuckin’ mouth,” he growled. “Since ‘ya need that tire fixed so bad.”

“I’ll do anything,” you pleaded.

You took him into your mouth, rolling your tongue over the head of his cock. The taste of salty precum swirled around your mouth as you took him deeper, eliciting a satisfied rumble from his chest. Joel jerked his hips forward, forcing you to sputter around his cock as he hit the back of your throat. You hollowed out your cheeks, sucking him harder with each thrust of his hips. You reached up to cup his balls, running your fingers over the silken skin as he drove into your mouth over and over again.

“Open that pretty fuckin’ mouth, babydoll,” he instructed, his voice shaky.

You obliged, staring up at him with an open-mouthed grin. With a loud grunt and flex of his thighs, he coated your tongue in his release, some of it dripping off your lip. Your tongue darted out to catch it as Joel watched in a post-climax haze. His eyes were hooded and full of desire, and you could feel your cunt throbbing with need the longer he stared at you.

Standing on shaky legs, you reeled him in for a long kiss, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. Joel deepened the kiss by twisting his tongue around yours, muffled sounds lost against your lips as he wrapped you into a tight embrace.

“So,” you drawled, pulling away from his hungry lips. “Think I can get that tire fixed?”

“I might be able to work somethin’ out,” he mused. “We can negotiate it over dinner.”

“Oh, you wanna wine and dine me now?”

“Damn right, I do,” he grinned. “Now, let’s go home so I can feast on you.”

“Take me home, cowboy.”

You both decided to leave your car parked at the shop and drive home together in his truck. With the console propped up, Joel had you pressed against his body, your eyes steadily watching him as he drove you home. Home. In the golden hour of sunset, you watched his eyes shimmer in flex of gold and auburn. His tan skin glowed in the sunlight, the silhouette of his face perfectly shadowed by the sun dipping below the horizon. He glanced down at you, a warm smile creasing the lines around his eyes.

“What’s that look for, huh?” He squeezed your hip, his other hand gripping the wheel.

“I love you,” you sighed.

“I love you, too, babydoll. Always.”

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel tlou #joel miller x f!reader #mechanic!joel #tlou #tlou fanfiction #one shot #joel miller pre outbreak

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kazzattack · 19 days

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I Can Be All You Need.

jason todd x fem!reader, poorly proofread (sorry), implied plus sized!reader for like 2 seconds, suggestive for like 2 seconds, mentions of food, regular mall stuff, jason’s a bit of a lover boy (and a foodie) (and a wonder woman fanboy)

a/n — hey! so this is technically my first fluffy fic. short n cute trip to the mall with jay. it’s kinda short but i was excited to share this :) i hope it’s cute and i hope you enjoy, tysm for reading <3

so you dragged jason todd to the mall with you. he’s all grumpy and huffin’ n’ puffin’ but he knows he’d rather be with you than anywhere else without you. he’d go to hell and back for you actually, with or without. jason enjoys keeping you safe, even if there’s no immediate threat. he finds comfort in being your partner for these trips; he likes to think of himself as your bodyguard, even. you’re attached to his arm and he’s right by your side, towering over you, ensuring there’s no room to mistake you as anything other than his- though he prefers to look at himself as yours.

let’s keep it real, you’re definitely there to blow all your money because there’s nothing nicer than dating someone with a connection to bruce wayne. not to be reckless, but it’s a huge weight off your shoulders at the very least. through this you learn that jason’s also not the type to go crazy over buying new stuff. out of habit he easily survives with the same clothes he’s had since his last growth spurt. hence why you’ve forced him to the men’s section of… whatever store you just wandered in to. poor guy doesn’t get much of a say in what gets thrown at him to hold. it is stuff for him, so it only makes sense for him to hold it.

“oh, you’d make these look real good,” you mutter and he arches his brow at you after catching whatever the hell you just tossed at him. “what was that?” he’d feed into your mischief with a grin when you quickly brush off your statement.

once you’re pleased with what you both have, you’re tugging at his leather jacket and point at the dressing rooms. he simply huffs out a laugh, looking at the amount of shit you have. he can’t be too upset over it, though; watching you get dressed is honestly one of his favorite pastimes. it’s abundantly clear, too. he spends the whole time ogling the way your thighs fill out that satin red dress he helped you choose, sports a boyish smirk at the way you fight with a too-small bra, and you’re prying the man off your skin when he grips your hips and kisses at your neck once you try on the one set of lingerie he didn’t catch you grab earlier. a good hour or two later and he begrudgingly walking you out of the store, though he’s relieved he got away with not trying on all the stuff you threw at him.

and despite the demeanor he’s got due to overwhelming height and muscle, jason can’t help the little green twinkle in his eye when you two stop by a shop dedicated to the justice league. he’s not a big nerd or anything, but… a little browse of wonder woman’s merchandise isn’t hurting anyone. he has half a mind to buy poster of batsie, just to dedicate it to throwing darts and knives right at the stupid pointy eared prick for shits and giggles, but the last thing he wants to do is waste money on him when the mug with his favorite’s logo on it is a much better purchase.

for a split second, jason is the cutest. watching your big scary biker boyfriend sport a wide and toothy grin at the idea of waking up to you and a warm cup of coffee, sun shining through streams of steam and making the golden glow of the logo shine even more; the idea makes him all soft, and even though he’s good at hiding it from others, you can all but see the butterflies in his stomach.

“you’ve gotta eat now,” you singsong by his side, tugging him to a map so you can point out where to go. you’re yanked back in the opposite direction, though, with zero effort when he’s simply stopped moving. you’re arm’s hooked around his, pinching at the leather of his jacket. “what-“

“it’s over there,” he states.

“how do you-“

“because i saw it. i’ve got an eye for food, y’know.” right. because he’s your personal bloodhound, practically sniffing out the baked goods before they’re even mentioned. now it’s his turn to drag you around, like the food court is his designated area; he’s telling you about how he’d prefer to make the food himself, even though it’s ‘not that bad.’ they could’ve made the sauce a little better. and christ, he hates when he can tell the stuff’s overcooked, even by a mere few minutes. jason just knows he’d make it better, and you do too. better yet, it’d benefit everyone to hand the recipes over to alfred.

once you two have called alfred, letting him know you’ve had a successful trip, you make your way back to the entrance. you put on a cheery voice as you speak to the old man, all about jason’s good behavior and lack of harm done to anything in the vicinity. you snicker and your man scoffs at you, rolling his eyes.

on the way, though, a jeweler catches jason’s attention- or more so all the pretty jewels. he tells you to go on, he’ll be right out, still eyeballing the jewelry with a stare intense enough to make the seller uneasy. he’s almost reluctant to admit it, but just the sight of the rings on display reminds him of you. it’s got his heart pumping again, face a little tingly, same twinkle in his eyes that you’ve only ever seen a few times. he needs the best band; not the one with the biggest diamond or the shiniest metal- but one that’d speak to you. both of you.

“jason!”

“yeah- coming!”

he needs more time, anyway. more time and real jewelry to choose from, he notes. jason todd feels like he’s waited his whole life for you, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get to properly devote himself to you with the best ring he could possibly find. most of all- he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get to be all you’ll ever need, just as you’re all he needs.

#jt <3 #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #jason todd drabble #jason todd imagine #jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood #red hood x fem!reader #red hood imagine

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princessbrunette · 3 months

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i feel like jj would be the type of boyfriend to fight anything for you.

some guy is eyeing you at a party and making you uncomfortable? it’s on sight. a bee comes near you when you’re allergic? that bee is catching his fucking hands. the wind blows your hair in all sorts of directions, messing up your perfect hairstyle? fighting the wind sounds ridiculous but shit, he’ll fucking do it anyway! he’d just be so protective of you, even with the little things :(

cw: reader has hair that blows !

🌊♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

you’re at the beach with jayj, sat there post sunset just to get out of the chateau for a while— having spent a couple of days and nights doing nothing. jj’s stood up, skimming pebbles along the calm water as you watch, sighing in irritation as the wind yet again blows your hair into your lipgloss.

“you good back there? can hear you huffin’ n puffin’… sound like a steam train.” he turns towards you, toeing at the sand as he searches for another pebble.

“the wind keeps blowing my hair into my mouth, it’s making me annoyed.” you pout. he glances up at you, forehead creasing as his brows raise beneath his red backwards cap.

“the win—” he suddenly turns to his left, jolting with a faux-angry expression. “woah, the hell did you just say about my mama?” he speaks to the literal wind before starting to throw punches— fighting with no one.

“what mama?” you shake your head with an exasperated smile— his goofy antics quickly starting to melt away your irritation. he grunts with exertion, throwing himself in every which direction.

“yeah, yeah take that bro! how’d you like that? pickin’ on my girl—” the fight is cut short when he rolls onto his back having slipped, groaning.

“see, now you’re hurt.” you finally let the giggle slip, tilting your head in faux disappointment.

“you should see the other guy.” he pushes himself up by the hands, crawling over to sit beside you, wrapping a thick bicep round you.

🌊♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

#anon #jj maybank prompt

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 6 months

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A/N ::: Roommate!Kats is on the brain who tells you he can hear you getting off to him in your room when you're so sure you're being quiet. He wants to show you how good he can fuck you and makes a bet with you that you're probably going to lose. Get your checkbook ready.

C/W ::: A bit of misrepresentation of the situation (but god who cares), Unprotected sex P->V, sex bet. *aged up Kats*

Bakugo shrugs. "I don't care if you agree with me or not. I see how you look at me. I hear you at night sometimes. Bah! Who'm I kiddin'. I hear you a lot. 'Oh, oh god ... Kats ... fuck yes. Right - oh fuck - right there!' 'M not stupid." He realized what he'd just said and how he'd just said it. But he wanted to prove a point to you: That he knows you're solely after his cock.

You think it would be in your best interest not to argue with him. But he was being so presumptuous right now.

"How can someone who thinks so little of himself have such an ego, huh, super star? Jesus. I'm not saying 'Kats', I'm ... I'm saying ..." You squinted your eyes at him and pursed your lips. "... um, I'm saying 'THAT'S'. Not your stupid name. Arrogant much. Fuckin' hell." Your face was turning a few shades pinker the more your arousal puddled out of your cunt. Even looking at him while he has that angry snarl on his face. All you can think about is pulling his pants down and taking his cock all the way down your throat and sucking on him until his balls are so empty that he can't possibly squeeze out one more little microscopic particle of cum.

The thought made you shake your head and roll your eyes.

He stood there with his eyes trained on your little nervous tics in reaction to his comments. And to your filthy thoughts, that luckily, he wasn't privy to.

Yet.

He knows he has you cornered. Worse yet, you know he has you cornered.

You avoid his gaze and try to step around his large body. He's almost completely blocking the hallway of your small, shared apartment. "Goin' somewhere, puddin'?" Your body stiffens at the name he calls you. He pushes himself off of the wall so that he's standing directly in the middle of the way now. "Tell ya what, if you can get by me or somehow manage to move me, I'll shut up about this and we'll never speak of it again.

"You're full of shit, Kats. There's no way I could ever get passed you. You're practically taking up the whole damn area as it is and you're not even huffin' and puffin' yet. Look, I'm telling you, I'm not fucking myself and thinking about you. Just get over yourself. Now move, I want to go lay down."

He smirked. "Lay down." He said with air quotes. "Is that code for fuck yourself stupid while you're thinking of me? You know, I could just fuck you, roomie. You've been lookin' at me extra close these last few months. And what long months they've been. Huh?"

You hated him. The second the words 'I could just fuck you' left his mouth, your cunt clenched around nothing. You swear you felt a tear run down your leg from how sad and lonely the poor thing was. "You couldn't make me cum if I told you how to do it. Just ..." You pushed on his stomach trying to get him to budge. But you were only met with resistance. You weren't prepared for how hard his body was. Like, you'd seen it plenty of times when he's running around shirtless. Those damn sweats hanging off of his hips.

"Hnno-gaw." You made a noise that resembled something along the lines of "No" and "Oh my god." Neither of you knew what it was supposed to be. What you did know, is how fucking tempting his offer to fuck you and get it out of the way was. "NO! Goddamn it, Kats. M-move. Now!"

"I'm not goin' anywhere until you admit that you stuff that little cunt of yours full of your fingers and say my name. I'm off for the rest of the holiday, so I got nothin' but time. Balls in your court, loser.

You stood there glaring at him. Trying to come up with a rational reason why you shouldn't let him rail you. But you couldn't think of one. And that made you even more angry. "Fine." You said, throwing your arms up and then placing your hands on your hips. "I'll play your fucking game, Kats. I do masturbate. I say your name ... sometimes. But ... ugh. Are you happy?"

He had the most devilish shit-eating grin on his face. "Mmm, not ... not yet. I wanna hear all about what you do with your fingers."

You put one hand on each shoulder and got on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "I ... have ... toys for that." The way he gasped at your admission you'd think he'd never even heard of such a blasphemous thing in his life.

But it wasn't that.

No.

It was how he grabbed you and hoisted you up onto his hips and held you there by the fat of your ass. It was the way he kissed your neck and lips so hungrily like you were the first breath of fresh air he'd had in months. It was how he slammed you against the wall and smashed his groin against yours. And how you groaned into his mouth when you realized he was already hard.

You could feel his cock throbbing against your stomach, begging for release. "Shit." You whispered, breaking the kiss. "Katsuki, I - uh - I ... fuck. I've been thinking about this for a while. Oh god. I can't ... fuck. Ok? Yes! Yes I think about you when I'm stuffing my cunt full of toys! When I'm playing with my clit in the shower!"

He bit your neck and moaned. "So, so dirty. I ... I fucking love it. You have no idea how hot it is to know you get off to me."

You pulled back from the his lips, "Wait, I ... I thought you already ... knew?" He closed his mouth and wouldn't look you in the eye. "You little fuck! You didn't know?"

"What's it matter now! I mean, I was just giving you shit. But it is, y/n. Shit. It's so fuckin' hot." He slid his hand down to your cunt and felt how wet you already were. "Fuck. So wet. You want my cock yeah, huh?"

"Yes, Kats." You glared at him playfully and slid down the front of his body and followed him to his room.

As soon as you walked in to his space you were met with a wall of his smell. It was so warm and sexy; Sandlewood and Cedar. It felt strange to be in there with him. Almost like a dream.

But it was real.

You watched him strip down and get completely naked. His cock was ... really, really nice, to say the least. The head was so plump and swollen, you almost didn't want to take your eyes off of it. "Kats."

"What the hell are you lookin' at, dumbass?" He got on the bed and laid down. "Come over here and ride me. Let me see those tits bouncing while you fuck yourself on my cock."

You took your clothes off and crawled on top of him. He ran his hands up and down your sides, feeling your curves and how hot your skin was. "I'm gonna make you cum so hard, roomie."

You sank down onto his cock and gasped. "Holy ... Kats! ... o- oh, fuck ... oh god, Kats. You're so fucking big." He moaned into your neck and let his hands roam all over your body.

"Let's make a bet?" He ran his tongue over your nipples and then continued his proposal. "I make you cum 3 times in 30 minutes and you pay my share of rent next month. I don't, I pay your half and electricity."

You were well on your way to having your first orgasm and he wasn't even doing anything special. "Mhm, mhm ... fuckfuckfuck ..."

He looked up at you and smiled. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Just - oh goddd, oh fuck, Kats - just shut the fuck up. I'll pay. I'll pay it anyway." You said as he flipped you over and showed you why it was worth your time (and money) to give him a chance.

Taglist ::: @millennialmagicalgirl @callm3senpaii @darkstarlight82

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globetrotter28 · 1 year

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Another Cover Up (Part 9)

Fandom: The Boys

Summary: After Herogasm, Butcher, Hughie and Soldier Boy realise they might need more reinforcements. After doing more research, they discover the woman who was also injected with Compound V alongside Soldier Boy back in the 40’s. Everyone also thought she was KIA that day at Nicaragua. But if Soldier Boy was still alive… maybe she was too?

If you DO wish to be tagged for future updates, please let me know.

If there is a line, the tag didn’t come up for you, or you have changed your handle and I’m not tagging X amount of people who I don’t know.

Tags: @msbadgirl @queenofspades20 @mimzy1994 @erinnkenobi @goldngguk @ateliefloresdaprimavera @roseblue373 @acarboni21 @sexyvixen7 @buckybarnes-1917 @valkyrie418 @multishipper @bxwitched @capswife @bluedragonflylady @leigh70 @xxemoluverxx @quixscentsposts @junie-keene @depressed-kay @deansbbyx @just-levyy @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @kat-nee @themerc-with-a-mouth @howlerwolfmax @horrorgirl4life @spnwoman

Chapter warnings: drug use, graphic descriptions of violence, mature language

Part 8

Series Masterlist

There’s quite a bit of dialogue from the show in this one, so a longer part for you all.

*drip - someone who is boring*

~~~~~~~~~~

You and Ben were both in the back seat of Butcher's piece of shit car. You were glad there was a considerate amount of leg room, because although you didn't mind being so close to Ben, his broad shoulders took up a lot of space... You'd been driving for about an hour when you shifted in your seat, a heavy huff of frustration leaving your mouth at trying to get comfortable.

"You okay back there?" Butcher asks from the drivers seat. "You been huffin' and puffin' since we bloody left." He says, annoyance evident in his tone.

"It's a bit of a tight fit..." you answer, side eyeing Ben who only looks at you with a smirk.

"You weren't complaining last night or this morning." He smirks.

"Jesus..." Hughie groans under his breath.

You glare at Ben. "Seriously?"

"Oh, c'mon...!" Ben lifts his arm and pulls you into his side. "It's not like they don't know what was going on." He chuckles smugly.

"Please!" Hughie semi-shouts. "We do not need specifics. We all heard you!"

"Who knew you were such a prude, kid...." You smirk. Hughie turns to glare at you now, to which you only raise your eyebrows. "Am I wrong?"

"Yeah, I don't know. You know what they say." Ben speaks up.

"What do they say?" Hughie asks clearly annoyed but his curiosity got the better of him.

"You gotta watch out for the quiet ones. Kinky." Ben laughs. You join in and even notice Butcher's eyes crinkled slightly in the review mirror.

After what felt like maybe ten minutes, Butcher turns the car onto a gravel road in the middle of a forest of trees and eventually pulls to a stop. You all get out of the car and make your way to the trunk, where the boys put all their gear. You bypass them all and walk back down the road a bit just watching in between the trees, already on the look out for anything Mindstorm related.

"You feeling anything?" Ben's voice interrupts your thoughts.

"Other than high as fuck, no. Not sensing him at all."

"Well we're at lest two miles out." You give Ben a look. "Hey, blame the Drip*. Turns out he might not be so great with his gadgets after all."

Meanwhile, Butcher and Hughie are still at the trunk of the car.

"Hey, why do you keep buying him like, Hefty bags full of weed?" Hughie's asks quietly, trying not to let the two stoned supes hear him.

"Better high than mental." Butcher responds, unzipping a small bag. "Takes the edge off his PTSD."

"Wait, he has PTSD?"

"Yeah, I saw it at Herogasm. It's why he keep blowing the fuck outta everything." Butcher and Hughie turn to look at Soldier Boy and Y/N talking softly to each other, their eyes glued to the tree line as they pass the joint between one and the other. "We gotta keep that Cunt dozy as a lamb."

"What about Y/N?" Hughie asks softly.

"I don't know...," they both turn back, "but I'd say what she did to those Russian soldiers when we first picked her up was a pretty good bloody indicator that she also has a lot of trauma."

"So, just to recap, he's uh, radioactive, she's a mind reader and can manipulate objects and or people, both highly traumatised and heavily self-medicated." Butcher continues to fills a syringe with Temp-V. "Feels good. Feels right."

Butcher scoffs. "Tell me about it. I mean, what sad bastard self-medicates like that, eh?" Butcher looks at Hughie and holds up the syringe.

"You pussies ready to get going?" Ben calls out. "You were in such a rush to fucking get out here."

"On our way." Butcher responds, closing the trunk and lifting the duffel bag over his shoulder.

"We're going-"

"This way." You cut Hughie off. "I know." You start walking in the direction you indicated, Ben close to you.

You were walking for roughly fifteen minutes before you notice a feeling in your chest. You don't get to give it much thought before Ben shoots around.

"What'd you say?" He asks the guys.

You look at Ben, confusion filling your thoughts, matching both Butcher and Hughie's faces.

"What?" Butcher asks

"What?" Ben responds.

"Nothin' mate. No one said nothin'." Butcher's eyes shift around your group, settling on yours for a moment.

Ben stays silent as he turns and keeps walking. Before you turn to carry on you see the boys eye each other. Ben is walking faster now, and you jog slightly to keep up with him before your super hearing picks up a metallic scratching noise.

"Oh, fuck." Is all you hear before you call out "Ben!" before there's an explosion, and you see Ben go flying before you do too.

You try to use your powers to catch yourself, but it was so sudden and you weren't able to prepare before you smack into a nearby tree. You feel your ears ringing from the blast and smoke moves across your body as you lift yourself from the ground, using the tree as leverage.

"Y/N!" You hear not with your ears, but your mind. The ringing is making it sound muffled though. You look up into Ben's green eyes, and feel a sense of calm wash over you knowing he's okay. His large hands help lift you to your feet as your eyes scan your surroundings.

You see Hughie groaning on the ground, but sense he's just shaken by the blast and being thrown a few feet. You continue to scan your eyes and mind, and see Butcher's figure on the ground and a smaller man standing over him. You shoot your powers out, violet streaking the air between you. But your disorientation means you miss your mark and Mindstorm scurries off into the forest.

"Fuck." You grunt out and notice the ringing in your head had settled down.

"C'mon." Ben holds you steady as you make your way over to Butcher, meeting Hughie who is trying to wake him by calling his name and tapping him on the face.

Ben let's you go and looks around, trying to see where Mindstorm went.

"Fucking freak... slipped away. He's gonna pick us off, one by one."

"Butcher! Butcher! Wake up!"

"That's not gonna work, kid." You tell him, seeing into Butcher's nightmare, a chill sweeping through your body.

"No, you're wasting your time. He's gone." Ben says matter of factly, kneeling down to open the duffel bag.

"What did Mindstorm do?" Hughie's panicked voice asks, looking from Ben back to you.

"Well, if it's his usual MO, trapped him in an endless nightmare till he dies of terminal dehydration." Ben drops his rag and leans down to grab his shield.

"No, there's gotta be a way we can wake him up." Hughie tries to rationalise. He turns to look at you, as you've been staring at Butcher, getting lost in his nightmare. "Y/N?" Hughes presses, trying to see if you could get him out.

"No." You say, somewhat absently. "I-I'm powerful, but... I don't know how to get rid of this for him."

"Mindstorm put him into this." Ben says, strapping his shield onto his arm. "He can snap him out."

"Okay. Great, great. Uh-"

"But he's about to be dead." This snaps you out of your funk.

"Wait." You turn back around to look at Ben.

"If we, if we grab Mindstorm, we make him help Butcher-"

"No way." Ben attempts to shut him down and walks away.

"Ben!" You walk after him.

"And then you can kill him. Then you can go to town on him. I don't give a fuck!" Hughie tries to reason.

"Hey!" Ben turns and gets close enough to Hughie that he backs up slightly. "If you're going to act hysterical, I'm going to slap you like I'm Connery." He pauses for a moment. "Now, unless you want to end up like your friend there," he gestures to Butcher, "its isn't worth the risk."

"Ben, c'mon! We can't just leave Butcher like this. He may be an asshole, but he doesn't deserve that!" You argue.

"What do you want to do? You just got surprised by fucking Mindstorm, Y/N." You swallow thickly, failure rooting itself deep within you. Ben looks back to Hughie. "Look, chin up. Deal's a deal. You help us finish this, we’ll kill Homelander. Butcher would have given up his life for that in a heartbeat."

You know after what Butcher told you, Ben wasn't wrong. Hughie looks back down at Butcher.

"So we doing this, or not?"

"I'll stay with Butcher." You offer.

"No, you're coming. You can't do anything for him." Ben orders. You don't like this side of him too much.

Hughie groans before bending down to grab the backpack.

"Leave it. We gotta move fast." Ben says, turning to walk away. "Ah!" He stops suddenly once again. "Did you hear that?"

"Ben... no." You answer softly. You recognise his mind is jumbled.

"Uh..." Hughie clears his throat. "You might want to lay off the weed, huh?" You think he's hit the nail on the head there. Maybe you should too...

Without turning around, Ben replies, "And you might want to gargle my ballsack.", before walking off again.

You bend down and grab the duffle quickly, before moving to place it under Butcher's head.

"C'mon, kid. Don't worry." You say, grabbing Hughie's attention. "I'll make sure we get Mindstorm to stop his shit before we kill him."

"He doesn't seem too keen on that idea." Hughie nods his head over in the direction of Ben's retreating form. You stand up and start walking in that same direction.

"Listen, I want him dead just as much Ben. But I won't let Butcher suffer through what he is right now."

"He's suf-suffering?" Hughie stutters.

"Yeah! What do you think being trapped in an endless nightmare is like? A picnic?"

"I, uh..."

"Hughie, listen." You look over at Hughie as you march after Ben. "I get that you're worried about Butcher. That's why you're so frazzled. But you need to get your shit together. None of us can afford to be off our game. The fact that I can't get Butcher out of that shit hole of a mindfuck he's in, just proves to me I'm still messed up. Hell, maybe I'll always be. My life hasn't exactly been sunshine and rainbows the last forty years. Could also just be the weed… But if Butcher is to have any kind of chance, you need to be on your game, okay?" Hughie nods. "Don't do anything fucking stupid."

You quickly catch up to Ben and you decide to take the rear. Hughie in the middle and Ben leads the way. You hear Ben talking about how many people he locked up for smoking weed, then he abruptly stops again asking what Hughie said.

"Uh, literally nothing." Hughie's panicked voice says, looking back to where we just came, clearly worried about Butcher.

Ben sighs.

"Jesus. How hard?"

"What?"

"How hard did Butcher suck your dick, that you miss him that much?"

"For fucks sake, Ben. He's worried about him!" You say, frustrated with the tension you're feeling coming off Hughie and the overall situation. Ben ignores you.

"Hmm? His mouth must feel like a Hoover Deluxe."

"God, every single thing you say is so gross. He saved me. Okay? More than once. So I owe him."

"Oh, bullshit." Ben tosses his blunt to the ground, and takes a step towards Hughie. "You're on a mission. You get the job done."

"Here we go." You sigh under your breath, ready for a spiel.

"Okay? I stormed Normandy. I fought the Nazis. You want to know what I do when I'm sad? Or scared?" Ben's face and voice turns almost emotionless. "Fucking nothing. 'Cause I'm not fucking pussy."

Hughie chuckles and you read where he's about to go

"Hughie... don't-" you try to shut it down, knowing how it might end.

"You didn't storm shit." Hughie had stepped to Ben. "Your whole Marlboro Man act? It's fucking crap." You can't help but slap your forehead. "And I-"

Faster than lightning, Ben's fist connects with Hughie's cheek.

"Oh!" Hughie pants in pain.

Very controlled for Ben, he points a finger at him and says as he looks to me and back to Hughie, "I warned you.", turns and raises his eyebrows before he continues his trek in the woods.

Still holding his face, you walk over to Hughie, your arms crossed at your chest.

"I said don't do anything stupid. That... was stupid." You couldn't help the bite in your tone.

"The Legend said-"

"The Legend?!" You move your hands to your hips. "The Legend is a jealous wannabe! He'll say anything to make a Supe look bad. Especially one who got put down by Vought. And hear this..." you step up into his personal space. "If you're saying that shit about Ben, you're also saying it about me." You see fear cross his eyes, let alone his mind. "You're goddamn lucky you weren't speaking to me, or you might not be walking right now. So fucking watch it. Because it'd be a shame for me to waste someone I actually like. But it wouldn't be the first time."

You turn and leave Hughie to think about what you just said.

"Fucking asshole..." Ben grumbles as you catch up to him.

"Calm down, babe. He's just a kid." You say, trying to pacify him.

"A kid with a fucking mouth on him." He glares at the passing trees as he storms down a path.

"What? Like you didn't ever have one?" You scoff.

"That was different." He says, an attempt to defend himself.

"What?” You scoff. “You never got told something then spouted it off in a stressful situation in an attempt to knock a superior down a few pegs?" You raise your brows at him, knowing he can't say he didn't.

"That Colonel was a prick."

"And you haven't exactly not been one either." He gives you an astonished look. "Oh, Ben! You just called him a pussy for being worried about his friend! Actually, he kinda looks up to him as a brother... but either way, he is someone he cares about, and he's now suffering and he can't do anything to help him, other than make sure he gets Mindstorm to pull him out. Which, by the way, we are going to do." Ben rolls his eyes, his body almost going with them. "Don't you roll your eyes at me, we wouldn't be here without that limey bastard, and besides..." you shrug your shoulders, "I kinda like him." You finish off with a grin.

"You kinda like him?" He questions.

"No need to get jealous. I don't like him as much as I like you, hot stuff." You wink at him, even making the tips of his ears turn red. "Now let's get going. There's two very confusing people on the road beyond those bushes." You walk past him towards the two voices discussing their broken down vehicle.

"What do you mean confusing?" You hear Hughie ask from where he's finally caught up to you both.

"I'm not sure, and that bugs me. I smell Mindstorm all over this. So keep your wits about you. Ben, maybe your paranoia will come in handy."

"Para-" he starts but you cut him off with a "Shh" before you make your way through the bushes and see the two people, a man dressed as a priest and a woman as a nun, talking next to their broken down car.

"We're never going to get to the retreat now..."

"Oh!" The priest startles as he sees the three of you approach. "Oh you startled me." The way he overacts doesn't even sit right with you. "Are you both superhero's." He asks, gesturing to Ben and yourself. Hughie didn't fit the part without the monkey suit.

"Yes Father." Ben answers. "You folks need some help?"

"Yes." The nun desperately pipes up. "Yes please." You squint your eyes as your read of them is fuzzy.

"Okay well, it's not safe. There's a fugitive in the area."

"You should get out of here before you get hurt." You add, subtly walking over to the other side of the nun keeping an eye on her as you keep another eye on your surroundings.

"Uh, well, we can't. I don't suppose any of you know engines?"

Your trio is silent as you make your way closer to Ben and Hughie before Ben begrudgingly offers to take a look. Hughie begins to make conversation and you get a glimpse into the priests mind before you blast a power surge at him, causing him to fall backwards just before Ben shoots his pistol, a bullet landing between the man's eyes.

The nun starts screaming, and since you never picked anything up, you're unsure about attacking her. In the meantime, Hughie is freaking out about what just happened.

"This is Mindstorm's MO. He brainwashed them."

"That priest was gonna sack us, but I can't be su-" you get cut off by Ben who lifts his pistol to point at the nun

"She will too."

Hughie moves in-front of the nun, trying to reason with Ben.

"Take my word for it. Everyone's coming for us. Everyone, every day." Ben raises his sidearm again, but Hughie tries to stop him.

"No, no! You have PTSD."

"Jesus Christ, Hughie!" You exclaim, astonished by this kids timing.

"Y/N, please!" Hughie pleads with you before looking back at Ben. "You have PTSD and you are super fucking stoned! Alright?" He looks back at the now praying nun, who is covered in blood. "Maybe this isn't what you think it is."

"Move." Ben glares at him. "Move!" Ben's booming voice yells threateningly.

"She's a human being!" Hughie continues.

"Oh no, she is definitely not normal, Hughie." You pipe up, eyeing her facial features changing, but still having troubles with her mind.

"A nun! And if there's one thing I know-"

The nun suddenly shoots up to jump on Hughie's back and screams, "Die, you fucking cocksuckers!"

Hughie panics then screams as she sinks her teeth into his neck. You watch for a second, then double over in a fit of laughter. You can't help yourself. The situation is to the utmost degree, just absurd. You hear Hughie demanding Ben and yourself to do something, and see through the tears in your eyes, Ben attempting to aim his gun at the spider monkey of a nun.

"Stay still. I can't..."

"Fuck you!"

"Get her off me! Y/N!!"

"I can't!" You wheeze, waving your hand at the situation acting out in front of you.

Ben's gun finally goes off and the nuns body hits the ground with a thump, landing next to the priest's body.

"Oh! Fuck me!" Hughie pants as he walks away and then looks back at the body. "No! Hard pass on this Exorcist shit!"

You're still giggling until Ben jokes, "what's black and white and red all over?" And you burst into another fit of laughter, your abdominal muscles screaming from your clenching as you bend over yet again.

"You were a lot of help!" Hughie shouts at you.

"Oh c'mon!" You laugh. "As if you wouldn't have thought that was fucking hilarious!"

"Okay, first off..." Ben turns and makes his way towards Hughie. "You scream like a little girl. Second, I don't have shell shock. Fuck you. Third, this is what I'm talking about. This... is being a soldier."

Ben looks off to the direction we were walking before he grabs my arm and drags my laughed out body behind him.

"Come on." He calls to Hughie. "What the hell is going on with your powers?" Ben asks you under his breath. This sobers you up quickly, really hoping you wouldn't have to explain something you didn't know the answer to. "It's like you're blocked or something."

"Ben... I don't know what to say. This has never happened with him before."

"Well we need to figure it out fast, because not that I'm worried, but fuck, Y/N..." he sighs heavily, dropping your arm. "I'm kind fuckin' worried. You've always been stronger than that fuck. And now you're shooting blanks?"

"Hey, the telekinesis is fine, I shoved that priest okay." You defended. "It's just... I don't know... the mind stuff is a bit funny... I can read you, and Hughie, definitely Butcher. That man is having a fucking great nightmare!" You say sarcastically

"Maybe..." Ben starts, but stops himself.

"What?"

"Maybe he's gotten..."

"Stronger?" You finish for him.

"Maybe."

You sigh heavily as you hear Hughie coming up behind you again.

"I don't know, Ben. Maybe? Forty years is a long fucking time, he could have easily improved his skills. And I've been pretty preoccupied... let alone the weed. They make this shit different these days..."

"What if it's more than that?" Hughie pipes up.

"Are you listening to our conversation?" Ben questions, an angry look pointed at the poor boy.

"I mean... it's not like it's... private..." Hughie mutters.

"What do you mean, Hughie?" You try to get him back on track.

"Well, what if you're like... being too hard on yourself? Feeling the pressure?"

"What, like performance anxiety?" You joke.

"I mean.. yeah."

You raise an eyebrow at the idea and think about it for a moment. "Hmm... certainly a possibility." You continue walking.

"That's all you have to say?" Ben questions.

"Well I don't know what you want me to say. 'Oh yeah, that's it! All better now!' Pfft, doesn't work like that. Besides... we're here." You say stopping just short of entering a clearing where you see a run down looking barn type of structure and a bunch of wind chimes out the front of it swaying and making noise in the breeze.

"Oh shit, we are." Hughie says, looking down at his device.

"You felt it?" Ben whispers to you.

"Yeah. It feels like a fog is covering this space..." you gesture to the clearing.

Ben takes a deep breath to calm himself. You know deep down he was nervous before coming, and the day has only added to his stress. You place a hand on his should, giving it a comforting squeeze and a reassuring look.

"We're in this together." You send him the message telepathically. He nods in response.

Meanwhile, Hughie was looking on, observing the two of you together. He feels that there was a possibility he was judgemental of Soldier Boy. Maybe he wasn't such a hard ass? After all, he was very soft with you. Something Hughie knew was only ever for you, but gave him hope that maybe... maybe Soldier Boy was different from what the stories said.

However, Soldier Boy's words about killing Mindstorm still echoed in his brain. He needed to do everything he could to make sure he got him back to Butcher before that happened.

The trio make the way closer to the building, walking past the wind chimes. You focus on your surroundings and not making any noise as you walk over the drying grass, much like the two men with you. Hughie pulls the wooden door open for Ben to walk through, his shield and gun in position. Hughie follows Ben and you come up behind them.

You tried carefully in the surely rotting wooden floor, judging by the smell and discolouration on the timber.

"Be careful of where you step or you might fall through the floor." You send to both men, ensuring your ability to turn your mind into a vault is active to keep Mindstorm out. You see both men nod slightly in response.

Ben gets to the end of the makeshift corridor before he stops and gestures his weapon to a mirror up ahead. You see Mindstorm in the reflection, crouched down and shifting on his feet. Ben breathes deeply again, preparing to ambush Mindstorm.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." You hear suddenly from Hughie. Your eyes widen and you go to grab Hughie's shoulder, but he disappears in a flash, his clothes dropping to the floor.

Ben spins to look behind him with widened eyes, seeing Hughie gone, but his clothes left behind, and your extremely pissed off expression. He rushes to look at the mirror again and sees a now naked Hughie grab Mindstorm from behind before they vanish. You both rush around to see that they are both, in fact, gone.

"Shit!" Ben yells. You stand there and feel the anger working through your veins. How could you not see this coming? "Y/N, let's go. We gotta get him before it's too late." Ben turns and storms out of the barn.

You follow Ben outside of the building. But your anger has reached the point where you turn and blast your powers to the innocent barn and see it explode, the noise being heard for miles.

Meanwhile, Hughie has Mindstorm back at the location where Butcher is living out his nightmare. He's just opening his eyes to Mindstorm and is trying to reassure him that everything is okay, and he can be trusted.

"Okay. Hey. We're cool. Very chill. Very cool." Hughie promises, before they both hear an explosion in the distance. "We might want to hurry..."

Hughie gives him some clothes to change into, but the pressure of knowing Soldier Boy and Vivid were on their way back, was making Mindstorm even more anxious. Mindstorm didn't want to waste time waking that man up until the boy offered to teleport him away and not tell anyone.

"What about Vivid?" Hughie looks confused for a moment. "How are you going to make sure she doesn't find out where you teleported me?"

"It'll at least give you a head start to get out of here." Hughie is grasping at straws and he knows it. But he knows any chance of survival is what Mindstorm needs, and that's the only one he has.

Mindstorm's considers it for a few seconds, because that's all he can afford. Then he agrees and moves to the man's body. Hughie kneels down and watches Mindstorm stand over Butcher to do whatever it is that he does.

Butcher suddenly wakes up, gasping for breath and looks over to Hughie. He apologises, which confuses Hughie. Mindstorm sees why, but doesn't care to stick around longer than he has to. He need to get the fuck away, now!

"Hey, kid." He urges the young man. Hughie looks up at him.

"Right, right, yeah." He gets up and makes to move over to Mindstorm. "Okay. Deals a deal. Where are we headed?"

Mindstorm doesn't get the chance to answer because there's suddenly a knife through the side of his head and exiting through his right eye socket. He screams in pain and Hughie is in shock as he looks to see Soldier Boy and the Supe he was growing fond of, no longer Y/N, but Vivid, storming in their direction.

Her eyes were glowing violet as she uses her power to push Mindstorm over from her position in the trees. As they both get to Mindstorm, Y/N places a hand out, palm facing down to his body, clearly holding him down as he is still yelling out in pain.

Ben grabs a bag out to place over his head, but Y/N growls "No! I want to see his eyes." She flicks her wrist and Mindstorm's body turns to lay in his back.

"Hey! Wait, wait, wait!" Hughie rushes over to get them to stop.

Ben punches Mindstorm to get him to stop struggling, which seems to work. He then gets to his feet and turns towards Hughie. Hughie tries his best to not be scared at the huge Supe glaring at him, before Ben then punches Hughie with enough force to throw him back a good couple of feet.

Y/N watches as Butcher looks back to Ben and see's Butcher's eyes light up and a sizzling sound come from them.

"Keep him away from this, Billy." You order, your own eyes glowing and the veins in your neck now too. Butcher looks to you as his eyes turn back to normal and he turns to look after Hughie.

You turn back to Mindstorm and kneel down. Your hand clenched into a fist, pulling his body up closer to you.

"Hiya Dan. I'd say long time no see, but you've made many appearances in my nightmares over the past forty years." You say with a mad grin on your face and a crazy tone.

"Y/N, come on, you know I always liked you..." he begs.

"Fucking BULLSHIT! You may have strengthened your power, but I'm in now, Dan. You have a weakness and that's uncontrollable fear."

"It's- it's not what you think. It wasn't my idea!"

"Oh, we know it was Noir's." You feel that drop in your stomach as Ben says this, still unsure about leaving him yesterday. "But how does that work, huh? Because there's no way he makes a fucking move without Vought!" Ben's voice grows loud.

"They gave him the green light." Mindstorm pants.

You clench your fist tighter, making it harder for him to breathe. "Why would they do that?" You growl through clenched teeth.

Butcher is lifting Hughie to his feet and they look over to you and Ben, interrogating Mindstorm before Ben suddenly yells out, "What?! That's impossible."

They see you drop your hands, your powers releasing Mindstorm as you look to Ben with a stunned but almost broken look on your face. He looks up to you before you look to Hughie and Butcher, expression hardening before back down to Mindstorm. You look to Ben, blink slowly, Mindstorm screams, then you turn and walk a few steps away, your back to everyone.

Ben looks back down to Mindstorm, seeing his left eye now filled with violet, blocking Mindstorm from using his powers on him. Ben's expression hardens also before he lifts his shield up and proceeds to bring it down multiple times on his face, caving it in and yelling out. Ben doesn't know anymore if it's in anger or pain. When he stops, his shield is covered in blood at the pointed side where he used it as a weapon and he stands up, panting from the exertion and the emotions.

Ben looks over to see Y/N still standing and looking out into the forest, his own chest heavy. He then turns to look at the boys before walking over. He halts briefly and glares at Hughie and quickly glances at Butcher, before he marches up the small hill.

"What'd he say?" Butcher calls out, but Ben ignores him.

Butcher and Hughie look at each other, before they hear Y/N yell out. They quickly look back to see her on her knees and blasting her violet power out into the woods, flattening the trees out in front of her.

Hughie goes to walk to her, but Butcher holds him back. If the punch he received from Soldier Boy was anything to go by, Butcher knew Hughie had done something to piss them both off, and he's pretty sure he knew exactly what judging by the bloody event that just occurred.

Y/N is breathing heavily as she turns and walks towards them. She eyes Butcher, her glare enough for him to know he won't win against her if he tries anything, and then she stops in front of Hughie. Her jaw is set tight, her body just as rigid. Hughie opens his mouth to speak, but she holds up a hand and closes it tightly in a fist.

Hughie feels as if his vocal chords and windpipe are tied in knots. He cannot speak, cannot breath. He looks to Y/N, eyes and mind begging for her to stop.

"This so not a threat. This is a promise. There will be no more chances. Once more..." her eyes glow violet once again and Hughie doubles over as his brain feels like it's being stabbed with red hot knives, "and you will die."

She releases Hughie from her hold and proceeds to walk where Ben did only moments before. Once she is out of sight, Butcher grabs Hughie to make sure he's okay.

"Bloody hell, Hughie...! I don't know what you did, but I have an idea. You're fuckin' lucky to be alive, mate."

#Soldier Boy #soldier boy fanfiction #Soldier Boy x Female Reader #Billy Butcher #william butcher #hughie campbell #the boys #the boys fanfiction #the boys tv #original female character #soldier boy x original female character #Female reader #mindstorm #mindstorm the boys

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me4gumi-moved · 3 years

Note

what if Dabi is the one who passed out 👀

LMAO IMAGINE 😭😭 HE’S HUFFIN N PUFFIN BC HE HAS THAT WEAK CONSTITUTION AND BEFORE HE EVEN NUTS HE’S LIKE 😵 better call the fire department 😭 he overheated

imagine having to explain that shit. “yeah my bf was hittin it and before i knew it, his heavy ass was passed out on top of me. i was just joking when i said i’m like nyquil...now the apartment is on fire and i gotta pay for this fool’s medical bills because he didn’t drink enough water today 🙄.”

i would’ve made this an actual one shot but i’m currently on hiatus LMAAOO

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #todoroki x reader #dabi x reader #bnha imagines #todoroki touya x reader

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starrysamu · 4 years

Note

hiii! hope u’re doin okie! could i request romantic fluff headcannons for nishinoya, kuroo and bokuto with an s/o who’s mom-like. like she’s the mom friend except they’re dating. 💕

hiii sorry this took a fat minute ahaha BUT i hope this is sort of along the lines of what you were looking for!!!

*fem!reader

headcanons for nishinoya, kuroo, and bokuto on dating the mom friend!

nishinoya

first of all, the team was so shook when you showed up to practice one day as not just their friend but as noya’s girlfriend

you help fill everyone’s water bottles

you are yelling so loudly from the stands at practices and ukai gotta tell you to leave ://

so you yell super loudly for noya from the stands at the games because damn it he is just so cool

(mans loves it when you do that ….. good thing you can’t see him blushing from that far away)

your support literally keeps him so focused

you always bring friends and signs to help cheer him on

food? you’re packin that’s for sure

tanaka is jealous . that’s it that’s the tweet

kuroo

you had already been swinging by practices before you and kuroo even started dating

but one evening, you show up hand-in-hand with the captain himself!!

kuroo is lit RALLY SO smug about it

“captain mom” … except ,,, you don’t know shit about leading a volleyball team

n e ways, they love captain mom instead of captain dad more

captain dad kinda gets emo about this and stops bringing you to practice

(you invite yourself later)

you spend a lot of time together, mainly making sure that kuroo takes care of himself after practices

he loves it when you bring him things

(especially if he forgets it and you grab it for him from his house …. oh he EATS that domestic shit up)

btw, that bento box is to die for

bokuto

is HUFFIN and PUFFIN when he brings you around to practice

you are so sweet so kind so cute to him wow he would literally lay his life down for you

gets jealous whenever you hand his teammates a filled water bottle during their breaks

akaashi comes to you to help him get him out of a slump because usually you’re the only one who can

very supportive relationship overall! you would literally support him at his practices and games so much he is ALWAYS fired up!!!

pouty boy!! pouty boy until he gets hug from you !

pinches your cheeks he loves them you soft bb

cut fruit! cut fruit! cut him fruit!

you sometimes have to remind him to take care of his teammates as their captain

anyways, sometimes he thinks that you love his team more than you love him

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the-drakeboys · 4 years

Text

Starlight

Summary: Sam and Reader spend a starlit evening in Libertalia, gazing in awe at the breathtaking views of the ocean, the cliffs, a shooting star - and each other.

Pairing: Sam Drake x Reader

Word Count: 1,138

A/N: A lil’ drabble for the amazing @peakymarvels! The prompt came from her Request Post! (go check her out!!)

Thanks so much for reading!

Prompt: 8. “Look! It’s a shooting star! Make a wish!”

---

"You're so full of shit, you know that?" you laughed softly, sitting yourself down next to Sam in the grass. A gentle nighttime breeze floated over you both, cooling the sweat on your skin from your long, muggy day in the trenches of Libertalia. You sat just at the edge of a sloping cliffside, the dewy grass beneath you dampening your cargo pants and soaking your palms. Sam was quiet, looking out over the ocean, his eyes betraying just how deep in thought he'd been before you interrupted.

He glanced over at you, a soft, questioning smile on his lips, trying to decipher you, trying to figure you out. You were an unreadable book, one whose pages had fascinated him from the very beginning of this trip. He just wanted to know what you were really thinking.

He sighed, leaning back on his hands and returning his gaze to the waters out ahead.

"Do you always have to be so aggressive?" he chuckled, letting his fingers tighten around the grass and mud underneath them.

"Sam, I'm serious," you shot back, hiding your smile and crossing your arms as seriously as you could muster. You pretended not to notice his broad shoulders, his strong jaw, the way his brow would raise when he was intrigued, eyeing you from time to time as if you were the girl he'd been waiting for all this time. But you were just here to work - just here for the treasure. That was it.

"Okay, then, sweetheart - pray tell, what did I do to warrant this lovely visit?" He turned to you then, concentrating his full focus on you until you felt the air in your lungs dissipate to nothing.

"Well..." you cleared your throat, trying to brush off his intense gaze and still your heavy-beating heart, "First of all, sweetheart, one of these days, you're going to remember my actual name." You didn't like the confident smirk on his face, the way he knew how much you'd actually grown to love when he called you his sweetheart.

"Mhm," he teased, his gaze never shifting away from you.

"But - you told me, specifically, that you're 'not a big fan of tight spaces'." His brows shot up, raised in interest, but no words came just yet. "And because of that, I very politely have offered time and again to go ahead of you and scope things out. And we've crawled through about eight or nine different tunnels and crawlspaces together since we started this thing, and I've just heard you huffin' and puffin', trying to catch your breath because you were so scared."

"Okay...." Sam offered warily, starting to feel his neck and cheeks heat up as he began putting two and two together.

You had him now. You smiled smugly over at him, "I saw you out there today. You squeezed yourself right into that crate until those assholes moved on. Not a single peep out of you the entire time, and you came out lookin' like it was the best sleep you'd had in years." Sam shifted and sat forward, his legs crossed underneath him and his elbows resting on his knees. Oh, how he was wishing for his cigs right about now.

"You wanna get to your point?" he jabbed playfully, looking back at you over his shoulder as he tapped nervously away at the side of his boot.

"My point, Sam," you started, scooting just a little closer to him, "Is that if you wanted to check my ass out so bad, you could've just asked."

He didn't peel his eyes away from yours, the heat between you growing and pulling at you, making you want to reach out and touch him.

"Well... if you don't mind my saying, it is... a fantastic ass." You couldn't help the sheepish laugh that bubbled up from your chest, your hand reaching out and gently shoving him away.

"You're taking lead on the next crawlspace, jackass," you snapped back, biting onto your bottom lip and willing yourself to calm the hell down.

Both of you quieted for a short while, enjoying the peace of the island air and one another's company, the stillness of the trees and brush all around you such a stark contrast to the chaos of the last couple of days. His gaze drifted back to you, sneaking small glances of you as you smiled, deep in thought, still focused on the beautiful view out ahead. "Oh, look!" you murmured excitedly, gently tapping at his arm, "A shooting star."

Your eyes were full of wonder, the sky brightening for a fleeting moment as a streak of white and blue light sang its way from one side of the world to the other. It was so beautiful - something ethereal, unreal, something outside of yourself that reminded you of just how amazing this planet really was. Your body sank delightedly with the sight. "I hope you made a wish," you grinned, your own wish getting tucked away into the back of your mind as you finally turned to face him.

And there he was - looking right at you. You wondered just how long his eyes had been on you, with that soft, warm look in them that made your stomach flutter. Sam reached out, his fingers brushing some dirt from your cheek. The touch sent fire along your skin, your heart beginning to race.

"I did," he mumbled.

With your eyes locked onto his, you felt him closing the distance between you, felt his breath unfolding over your lips, smelled the faint cologne that still clung to his skin and a hint of mint on his tongue.

With a soft smile and your body pleading with him to take you in his arms, you leaned forward and closed the gap, his lips capturing yours and setting every inch of you on fire. Fuck, you thought to yourself, sinking into him and feeling his hand cup the side of your face, why hadn't we done this before...? As he held you, finally kissing you the way you'd been wanting him to for weeks, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling your body tightly up against his own, you both wondered what took you so goddamn long. Being there for the job certainly didn’t seem like reason enough anymore.

You both were out of breath as you gently parted, the kiss still burning over your lips as your fingers threaded softly through his hair. Your foreheads rested together, each of you content, your eyes closed as you felt each other so close.

“So… am I still full of shit?” Sam whispered cheekily, a small grin tugging at his mouth. You replied with a quiet laugh, pressing another long, sweet kiss to his soft lips.

“Oh, yes,” you mumbled into the kiss. “You definitely are.”

---

Tags:

@s4mdrake @peakymarvels @missdictatorme @qwertybubbler @archesa

(still putting together a tag list for all my works, let me know via reply, ask, or message if you’d like to be tagged in future fics!)

#sam drake x reader #sam drake #samuel drake #samuel drake x reader #sam drake fanfiction #uncharted fanfiction #uncharted #uncharted 4 #fluffy #I LOVE WRITING FLUFF OKAY #i enjoy it so much #thank you so much for reading!

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babbushka · 5 years

Text

Two’s Company (2/5)

1989 and New York City is a mess. Life was shit for all but you and Pale, who found that among the rubble and rubbish, there existed peace and calm and hard hot fucking. That is, until, an unwanted visitor makes themselves known, throwing this happy dream into a tumultuous nightmare.

Chapter 2 of my sequel to Blue Moon!

Previous Chapter

(Word count: 9.2k Warnings: N*SFW, drug mention/use)

—————————

It smelled like shit, he thought with a frown. It smelled like stale beer and cigarettes, not that he wasn’t adding to that mix, but still.

Pale was annoyed, tappin’ his fuckin’ foot as he held onto the handrail on the subway as he waited and waited for it to arrive at his stop. He had no problem getting to Grand Central, but for whatever fuckin’ reason there was traffic or something because the short ride from there to the Lincoln Center was takin’ ages.

The subway was packed, because of course it was, nine-thirty rush hour. He had half a mind to stop off somewhere and just walk the rest of the fuckin’ way, but he didn’t want his face to catch frostbite or nothin’.

He was mindin’ his own business, lookin’ around the place when he saw something familiar, a little scribble on the wall, just next to the window he was leanin’ against. He could barely make it out amidst all the other graffiti on the train, but he recognized your handwriting anywhere.

There it was, a little faded maybe, a little worn away, but there it was: a heart with the two of your initials written in black sharpie.

It was partially covered up by another person’s vandalism, and that irritated Pale, ticked him off. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small metallic silver paint marker.

“’Scuze me a sec,” He shuffled through the crowd to the window, pushed his way past people who were all crammed in like sardines, no one really payin’ him much attention.

As carefully as he could, he traced your little heart, traced the V.S.O.P and the (Y/Initials), put the cap back on it.

An old woman sitting down smiled up at him, and he gave her a nod back, content to just hold onto the fuckin’ handrail and think about all the bullshit he’s gotta deal with later, with the orchestra, with the restaurant, all the while trying his very best not to get jostled around. He was aware of how big a guy he was, didn’t want to go toppling over onto nobody.

“You know,” The old woman said, accent thick and Greek, capturing his attention once more, making him turn his gaze towards her, “They say dating’s impossible in New York City.”

He shrugged, smoked his cigarette.

“They ain’t wrong.” He said, thinking about all the bullshit that had happened when he first stepped foot into the city, all that time ago.

In a loft in Manhattan, with a dancer and her ghosts. That hadn’t worked out, not for maybe a month, but he found he didn’t mind all too much. He was bitter about it, but then again Pale was bitter about a lot of shit.

“What’d you call that then?” The old woman asked, gesturing to the drying paint on the wall, the small declaration he had only just reinforced.

He looked down at his boots, at the shiny leather you had cleaned up with your tongue, thought about the way his heart got all fuckin’ flippy and fluttery whenever he saw you smile real wide for him, beam up at him.

“Love,” He said, as the subway came to a rolling stop, as the doors hissed open and he flicked his cigarette onto the tracks below, “That’s love.”

It was a feat of architecture, that was for fuckin’ sure, Pale thought whenever he walked up to the Lincoln Center. In another life, if he hadn’t gone the artsy route, he thinks he woulda liked being an architect. Being someone who plans shit, builds shit.

Nah, then again, he thinks, he didn’t like math too much, heard there was a lot of fuckin’ math in architecture. Knowing his luck, he’d be doing some calculations that would have the fuckin thing toppling over. With his luck, he’d be stuck doing construction that lasted for ten years just to siphon bond money away from the city. With his luck, he’d be sued for something, he just knew it. Better leave that to the architects then, he thought.

But still, there was no fuckin’ doubting that the building was gorgeous, even Pale could appreciate that. A strong rectangular building with huge swooping arches carved into the front of it, something grand and imposing, something worthy of the art of performance.

He liked the way it was all lit up at night, but during the daytime it was okay too.

He walked around the fountain, huge white foaming frothing water that Pale always had half a mind to jump right into, walked through the pigeons who didn’t give a shit, kicked a can along the way as he went up the couple steps.

He’d like to take you here again, he thought, as he opened the heavy door and hit boots clacked against the shined polished floors. He’d like to get you all gussied up, have you on his arm as he walks in with a penguin suit on and his hair combed back, like he’s playin’ some fucking game, playing pretend.

It never felt like pretend when he was with you.

He chain smoked his way through the hall, passing the huge glass windows of the lobby of Alice Tully, where he knew his orchestra was waiting for him.

Sure e-fuckin-nough, when he opened the door to the actual concert hall, there was a great sigh of relief, some kid named Nicky who had been assigned as Pale’s assistant running right up to him.

“Pale! We thought you’d been hit by a taxi or some shit.” The kid said, all huffin’ and puffin’ and holding a clipboard on it like he was some official big shot and not just some college kid on an unpaid internship.

Pale stubbed out the cigarette and cracked the joints in his neck, in his hands.

“Yeah yeah, I know, I’m sorry, it ain’t gonna happen again.” HE gave a half-hearted apology, checking his watch, holding it up to his face to see the time. The fuckin’ thing was smudged, fogged up from how warm it was inside in comparison to the cold of November morning. “How late am I?”

“Fifteen minutes, the orchestra’s been waitin’ for you, they’re all warmed up already.” Nicky said straight away, like he had been counting. Who knows, maybe he had.

“Shit, alright alright well I’m fuckin’ here now, okay?” Pale said, running a hand through his hair as he descended the steps of the theater, made his way up to the stage. “Nobody died or nothing.”

Nicky chuckled at that, before he stopped Pale abruptly.

“A call came in for you, some woman.” Nicky said suddenly, like he had just remembered, and Pale frowned.

“Woman?” He asked, mind immediately racing – was it you? Had something happened? Were you okay? He shouldn’t have left he shouldn’t have let you go to the stores by yourself, not a pretty thing like you, not all alone.

“Yeah, but she hung up when I asked who was callin’.” Nicky said, making Pale frown for a different reason.

“She didn’t give no name or nothin’?” He asked, and huh, well that wasn’t like you at all.

“Nope, just asked for Jim.” Nicky replied, and yeah no, no fuckin’ way was that you.

You hadn’t called him Jim, since that night you put him back together, all that time ago. No one really called him Jim, unless it was business people. That musta been it, he thought rolling his eyes, some secretary or some shit like that, trying to get a hold of him.

“If she calls again let me know, alright?” Pale asks, climbing the steps of the stage and assuming his position at the piano.

“Sure thing sir.” The kid gave a sharp nod and scurried off into the velvet seats, scribbling away on the clipboard.

Pale didn’t like conducting. Fucking hated it, actually. Hated the way he could never figure out what the fuck that little baton was doing. He knew somewhere in the back of his head that it was keeping time or something like that, knew that it was for the rhythm or tempo or some shit, but he didn’t give a fuck. He knew technically technically technically he was supposed to follow the composer, but in this case, with his symphony, it was the conductor who was following Pale.

They were working on the sonata today, something extra special Pale had written up just for you.

The whole fucking thing was for you, of course it was, it always was.

But the sonata, now that was something Pale had spent hours and hours, days pouring his heart and fucking soul into. He hadn’t let you hear a single note of it, wanted to surprise you, wanted to make it grand and epic – even though he hated that word.

He played his part in it with passion, with ferocity, fingers dancing across the keyboard, pressing deep and hard, as if it were the expanse of your body and not ivory.

It was intense, it was powerful, it was entirely altogether far too intimate, but none of these other fuckin’ jokers could tell, could know what it meant – how it was the way you gasped and writhed underneath him, how it was the way you moaned sharp and loud, how it was the smack of the fucking headboard against the wall, the scraping of a table on the floors as he fucked you hard hard hard.

It was a full thirty fucking minutes long, the sonata, a full half hour of him sweating his balls off at the piano bench, of his hair clinging to his face, of his hands cramping and his back aching but it was so fucking worth it because when the music stops, when the last notes have hung in the air and have been given their chance, when there is nothing but silence and the orchestra is enchanted, enthralled, when they burst into applause, it’s worth it.

And then the applause is over because really this is just practice, this is just rehearsal, and he needs to practice more because there are notes he missed, he knows there are, keys he hit wrong and tempos he needs to keep steady.

But the conductor, some young guy fresh out of Julliard, gives them all a big grin when he stands.

“Okay, that was good, really good you guys! Let’s take a lunch break and we’ll meet back here, okay?” The conductor says, and everyone breaks out into chatter. He had a funny way of starting and ending him sentences the same way, had a funny way of doing just about everything, Pale thought.

But he didn’t give a shit, it wasn’t like he listened to the kid at all anyway.

He was just wiping his brow with the small handkerchief he kept in his pocket when Nicky ran over from the sidelines.

“Pale! Call for you.” He said, making Pale’s eyebrows shoot up.

“From her?” He demanded, already collecting his shit and storming over to the wing where Nicky had the receiver pressed against his chest.

“Nah, man named Fischel.” He said, and Pale sighed – he couldn’t tell if it was from relief or something else, but he nodded.

“Okay let me have it.” He said, reaching his hand out for the phone. Nicky gave him the whole thing, and Pale walked around with it, tucking the phone in between his cheek and shoulder so he could light up a cigarette. “Fish! How are you?”

“I’m doin’ real good Pale, real good. How about you?” Your boss had become his business partner, and the two had struck up somewhat of a friendly relationship.

Pale didn’t have many of those, none at all that didn’t involve some kinda back door bullshit. It was nice, even if the man was really fuckin’ old and maybe not his first choice of company.

“I’m alright, just in the middle of some concerto shit. What can I help ya with?” Pale asked, wondering if something was going on with the restaurant.

Pale’s schedule was pretty fuckin’ booked, between managing the restaurant in the city and working on the symphony at the concert hall. He’d spend a decent ten hours workin’ in the diner and then hop over to the Lincoln Center to do some practicin’ before he fucked off to go be with you.

Saturdays he went in for the whole day and Sundays he gave himself off. You took Sundays off too now, so the two of yous could always count on spending the day together.

Pale worried for just a fuckin’ second that of course one of the two days he doesn’t show up to the restaurant, some shit goes down, but with the way Fish was chuckling, Pale didn’t think so.

“I was just callin’ to check on you and (Y/N), see how you were doin’.” Fish said, soundin’ a little, just a tiny bit, accusatory.

“Oh we’re real good, thanks – why did she say somethin’?” Pale asked, sucked in a big deep drag of his cigarette, mind racing racing racing.

“Nah, I’m just happy for you guys, wanted to make sure you were still good.” Fish said, “Good to know you’re good.”

None of that sounded convincing, none of it at all. It made Pale’s heart beat too fast, like he was gonna fuckin’ stroke out or something, like he was gonna have a heart attack.

“Okay Fish what’s really on your mind?” He asked, wanting to cut right to the chase.

“Why do I gotta have somethin’ on my mind?” Fish asked, defensive, which basically gave him the fuck away. Pale stayed silent on the phone for a minute or two, enough time for Fish to sigh and say real low, “Someone’s been callin’ after you.”

Oh jesus, he thought to himself, knowing exactly how that might look.

“A woman?” Pale asked, already feeling the beginning of a headache coming on despite smoking. He wondered if sticking a second one in his mouth would make him feel any better.

“Yeah.” Fish said, suspicious.

“Lemme guess, didn’t leave a name? Hung up as soon as you asked?” Pale grit his teeth when Fish hummed in mild surprise.

“Yeah, you know anything about that?” He asked, trying to play it cool, but that only pissed Pale off some more.

“Listen, if you think I’m cheatin’ on her, on (Y/N), don’t – that ain’t what’s goin’ on. Someone’s been blowin’ up all the fucking phones lookin’ for me but I don’t know who, they just keep callin’ and hangin’ up. I don’t know why, but it ain’t some side-chick or nothin’.” Pale said, maybe said a little too loud, maybe said it a little too angry.

“You sure?” Fish asked, ever the skeptic, and Pale wanted to throw something.

“Yeah I’m fuckin’ sure and as a matter of fuckin’ fact, I’m getting real fuckin’ irritated by this broad.” He snapped, and something in his voice must have signaled that he was telling the truth because he could hear Fish sigh on the other end of the line and suck his teeth in thought.

“Alright. I trust you. But you better find this girl and get her under control before (Y/N) thinks somethin’ fucked up is goin’ on, you know what I’m sayin’? I don’t want her breakin’ her heart over an assumption.” Fish said, and Pale calmed down, tried to calm down anyway, because he only cared about you.

“Listen the next time she calls, if she calls, pretend to be me for just long enough to get her name, okay? (Y/N) ain’t workin’ today, she’s out shopping – ” He said, making Fish exclaim in shock.

“She’s shopping?” He asked, and Pale had to laugh at that; you were notoriously stubborn when it came to Pale treating you to nice shit.

“Yeah, finally got her to take some cash and go out for once.” Pale said, scrubbing a hand down his face, smoking the last of the cigarette, wondering if he could steal enough time for a second one.

“Good for her.” Fish said, and Pale nodded, even though there was no way he could see it.

“Anyway she ain’t gonna be at work so the phone shouldn’t be a problem, I doubt this chick has my home phone number, whoever the fuck she is. But if she calls you again just pretend to be me and let me know who this stalker is, would ya?” Pale asked, and Fish hummed to himself for a while.

“I ain’t got your tone of voice but I can give it my best shot – oh I know I’ll have one of the line cooks say somethin’, he’s got a deper voice than me.” The old man said, and Pale made a mental check to buy him and his wife some flowers or something, just for being good people.

“Alright, thanks Fish. Sorry about all this, I promise ya I ain’t fuckin’ around, (Y/N)’s my one and only.” Pale said, finding that there had never been more truth in a statement than the one he just gave.

Fish had a smile in his voice when he said,

“She god damn well better be, or else they’ll be fishin’ you outta the fuckin’ river.”

“Don’t blame ya. Listen I gotta go, but give me a call if you hear anything else, okay?” Pale laughed, relieved to hear the old man chuckling on the other line.

“No problem, talk to you later.” Fish said, before hanging up.

The next three hours whizzed by thanks to the help of the music and some blow.

He found he always worked best, always performed best when he was high off his ass, when he could practically see the fucking notes as they flew from his fingertips, sweating hands slipping and sliding off the keys. They plowed through the symphony, the violins and the brass and the woodwinds all melting together with the piano all cohesive, and Pale felt crazy, felt like he was soaring, like he could never do anything wrong.

At the end of the day, when everyone was out of breath and their hands all hurt and the sun had dipped down below the city skyline, and Pale’s high was beginning to crash and burn into something making him grouchy, making him exhausted, he closed the piano with a bit of a bang.

“Alright, I’m callin’ it for today. Anyone got any concerns or anything?” He asked, and no one spoke up which for once was a fuckin’ miracle. Usually somebody, anybody, everybody had something they wanted to fuckin’ say.

Maybe they thought Pale was in a bad enough mood to not want to tempt him, and he was glad for their foresight.

“See you guys in a week then, keep practicing, we’re gonna be great.” He assured everyone, because they needed assurance – it was a young orchestra, or at least filled with a lot of young new musicians. They needed reward to all the hard work, and Pale didn’t mind giving it to them if it meant they played better.

Pale gave a nod to everyone, and they all erupted into casual chatter amongst themselves, the different sections of the orchestra splitting off into their own groups for dinner and drink plans. Pale was starvin’, but he would wait until he ate with you to get his fill.

He wondered what you did today, had half a mind to call the house and ask you, but between everything he was gettin’ real fuckin’ sick of phone calls. He knew you’d be home for him when he walked through the door, knew you’d be waitin’ and wantin’ for him, knew you’d be eager to tell you everything.

He didn’t like the thought of you going out shopping all by yourself, paranoid that somethin’ might happen to you, but you were a big girl, a tough girl, you could handle yourself.

Still, as he walked to the bathroom he kept thinkin’ of ya, kept wondering.

The concert hall was somethin’ of a magical place, and on the walk to the men’s room, he thought about what you might think of it. What you might think of the sound of harmonic violins and low thrum of timpanies. He wondered if you’d like to listen to the swell of the orchestra as they all tuned up – that was his favorite part anyway, the tuning.

One section at a time, all matching intonation, all blending their sound. You liked the classical music he kept in his apartment well enough, you had loved the symphony he brought you to, all that time ago. Maybe the next time he had to come into the theater, if you were free maybe you’d come with him.

You were his good luck charm after all.

The bathroom was empty, thankfully, and Pale smoked his cigarette as he pissed into the urinal, as he scrubbed his hands with bar soap. He didn’t trust the liquid shit, didn’t trust hand sanitizer. Nah, he only liked good ol’ fuckin’ fashioned lye and oil bar soap. He watched as his ash flicked into the sink, watched as it was washed away with the suds and bubbles.

He looked at his hands – did they always look like this? He studied them for a minute, the manicured fingernails, the scarred knuckles from too many back alley fights. The ones from where he fuckin’ deck Marty’s face so hard he nearly broke the kid in two made him smile, just a little bit, because he was proud of those, but he was proud of little else.

He sighed and rinsed his hands off, studied his face in the mirror. Fuck, he looked like his father, he thought. When the hell did that happen.

He had a fleeting thought that maybe one day, his son would have the same thought, and he grimaced – that was, until he noticed a slight silver strand near his temple and he damn near inhaled the whole fuckin’ cigarette in a moment of shock.

He shoved his face up right to the mirror, goin’ damn near cross-eyed to see the fuckin’ grey hair, single grey hair wisping down with the rest of his locks.

Without thinking, he ripped it out of his head, heart racing.

He didn’t have time for this, he thought, didn’t have time to be spiraling now. He stubbed out the cigarette and lit up a fresh one, chain smoked his way out of the bathroom and down the hall to the main doors where he could get the fuck out of the concert hall and head back home to you.

He only got so fuckin’ far though, when Nicky stopped him in the hallway with a wave, hand clasped over the receiver of a telephone with a long ass cord, cord pulled tight.

“Pale!” Nicky whisper-yelled, pointing to the phone with urgency, “It’s her.”

Pale’s jaw clenched, and he stormed over to Nicky and grabbed the phone, harshly shoving it up under his ear as he smoked.

“Yeah hello?” He asked, angry, because why the fuck wouldn’t this chick leave him alone, “Hello? Who the fuck is this?” He demanded, and maybe that was the wrong way to go about this, maybe he should be polite to get some fuckin’ answers, but his mind was torn between like five fuckin’ different directions and he was just pissed.

There was silence on the other line, but if Pale listened real carefully, he could almost make out breathing. He didn’t recognize it, and it sure as shit wasn’t you – wasn’t anyone that he knew, otherwise they woulda just come out and say something already – and his already low patience was growing ever thinner.

“Why don’t you just say what the fuck you want from me, huh? What do you want?” He snapped, voice starting to raise, starting to yell.

He didn’t want to lose his temper but he was definitely fucking starting to yell.

“Alright you know I’ve had about enough of your little fuckin’ games. Stop fuckin’ callin’ me, whoever you are, you hear me? I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t know who you are, I don’t fuckin’ care. You call this number again and you’re gonna wish you never fuckin’ picked up the phone in the first fuckin’ place, you got that?” he spit, acid in his voice, face going red.

People stopped in the hallway to look at him, to stare, and they kept walking, not wanting to bother him, not wanting to get in his way.

“I – ” The voice finally said, but Pale didn’t give a shit anymore, he missed you, wanted you, not to be on the phone with some girl.

So he slammed the phone down and hung up, hoping that whoever it was on the other line could feel the ring in their ear from the force of it.

His ride back to the apartment had him all fucking aggravated. If he had been annoyed with the subway that morning, he was downright pissed off. The phone call didn’t sit right with him – he hated people trying to get a hold of him. Hated people leaving messages but hated when they just didn’t say what they wanted even more. He didn’t like feeling like he was being hunted down or something, didn’t like that it was makin’ him look suspicious, like he was sneaking around behind your back.

He wasn’t, lord knows he wasn’t. And of all the fuckin’ things too, all the fucking timing in the world, it had to be today.

Christ, he thought to himself, another year older, another year wiser – wasn’t that the fuckin’ phrase? He didn’t feel too wise, but he sure as shit felt old. Especially with the grey fuckin’ hair he ripped outta his head.

“Bullshit.” He muttered, as the elevator doors slide open, “It’s nothin’ but bullshit. I work too god damned hard all the god damned time to be dealin’ with this.” He knew he was talkin’ to himself, but he didn’t care, he’d be with you soon.

He punched the buttons with maybe too much force, reached into the pocket of his leather jacket maybe too quickly, too eagerly, and pulled out the small vial of coke he kept stashed on him. Not enough to do much but give him a real good buzz, and fuck knows he needed one, needed somethin’.

He tipped it onto the back of his hand, snorted it right up, real easy, licked up whatever might be left and stuffs the tiny thing back into his pocket, waiting and watching as the numbers go up up up, and he starts to feel better.

He doesn’t like comin’ home to you in a bad mood, see? Doesn’t like walkin’ through the front door with a frown on his face, not to you. You didn’t deserve none of that, none of the bullshit.

But he does walk through the front door, and he does frown, because he’s confused – thinks he’s hallucinatin’, because since when the fuck are there flower petals all over the floor?

“(Y/N)?” He called out, starting to feel like he’s on top of the world, starting to feel like king of it all. He wanted to bury his face in your tits and make you come on his tongue, wants to come all over you, make you sloppy.

Fuck there was little that he loved more than making you sloppy.

“In here.” You called back from deep in the apartment and fuck, you sounded so good, your voice music to his ears, music and melodic and all the good fuckin’ things Pale’s brain can’t come up with right now because all he can think of is you.

His feet carried him to the bedroom, follows the rose petals to where it’s nice and dark, real dark, the window open a bit to let the cold air of autumn blow in, and there you are on the bed, candles lit all around you like he summoned you straight from his own personal hell.

If this is hell, he thinks, let him be damned.

“Fuck sweetheart you’re gonna kill me,” He groaned, his pants suddenly so tight, too tight, as you sit up on your knees on the bed, wrapped up in the prettiest fuckin’ lingerie Pale had ever seen. “You look too good, you leave the fuckin’ house like this? You leave the house lookin’ like this, like a perfect fuckin’ whore? Where’d you get this huh? Gotta go give them a thank you note, gotta get my hands on you holy shit look at your tits.” He rambles on and on, already shucking his jacket, already tossing it to the floor.

Your body is hidden behind black lace, but it’s not really hidden, not at all.

He feels a thousand miles high, and he grabbed at you, but you just grinned and stopped his hands from groping at you the way he wants.

“No – ” He frowned again, still confused, mind racing racing racing because is that your perfect nipple he can see through the sheer black fabric that could only barely be considered a bra?

“Happy birthday.” You curled yourself around him, looked up at him with those doe eyes of yours, and he tugged his hands free so he can grab your jaw, give your face a little shake.

Anxiety swooped in his stomach for a second, the briefest of seconds, because he wasn’t ready to be confronted with that, not yet, not fuckin’ yet. He swallowed around a lump in his throat and licked into your mouth, kissed you hot and wet as your hands dropped to his jeans, worked on the belt buckle and button, worked on easin’ his zipper down down down.

“How’d you find out it was my birthday?” He grumbled against your lips, and he’s sweating now, sweating as he pushed you backwards onto the mattress, rose petals fluttering away from the movement.

“I went lookin’.” You said nonchalantly, and that almost scared the shit out of him because where the hell could you have found that?

“Oh yeah?” He said back, climbing on top of you, already snapping the elastic of your bra, of your panties, of your garters that hold up your fishnet stockings.

You arched for him, stretched out like a great big cat, and his mouth salivates. He forgets all about the grey fuckin’ hair and the bullshit at work and the phone call he got that’s rattled his fucking brain, and he dives into you.

“Yeah.” You hummed when he sets his sights on your neck, when he licks his tongue across the golden chain you’ve kept on for damn near a year, his cock hard in his briefs, even harder when you reach down to grasp it. “So, happy birthday.”

He crinkled his nose at the sentiment, even though it’s comin’ from you, even though you make everything better.

“I’m an old man.” He huffed, bit down hard on your shoulder, hands splaying over the lace of your bra. He wanted to rip it up, rip it off, and he wondered if you’d let him. Wondered if you’d be pissed at him or if you’d think it’s sexy.

He ripped it off and you laughed, you kissed him.

“You’re my man.” You shook your head, kissed and kissed and kissed him until he’s moaning against your lips, hips rutting up against your thigh as he shoved you further up the bed.

He’s going to have fun with you tonight, he already knows.

“Say it again.” He demands, and you do, you tipped your head back for him and he buried his face in your cleavage like he’d been wanting to do all day, kissed the flesh of your freed breasts, nipples hardening from the cold air, from his touch.

“You’re my man.” You gasped, hand going up to his hair as he bites and sucks marks that he knows is going to turn bright red. He sucked some more.

“And you’re my present?” He asked, real cheeky like, because of course you’d be so sweet, of course you’d give him something like this, this chance to really peel you apart layer by layer – too bad he was impatient and an asshole, too bad he ripped up those layers instead of savorin’ them.

You didn’t mind, you never minded, you think it’s – what was the word? Endearing. You loved him.

“Why don’t you open me up and find out?” You asked with a wink, and Pale sucked his teeth with a smirk, eager to do just that.

It never got old, he found, the unraveling of your legs, the parting of your pussy, the opening of your body to him. Each and every fucking time it was always like magic, like a drug, even better than the fucking coke – if anything could be. If it could be, it was this, he thinks to himself as he pried your legs apart.

And you’re go fucking good for him the way you wriggled up and up the bed, face already blushing and hot, he can feel hot fucking hot you are from there, as his hands wandered up and over you, down and around, pulled and pushed you how he wanted.

The coke buzzed in his veins and he growled as he yanked your panties down, tossed it across the room, snapping the garters on the way. He liked the fishnets, liked how they warped and stretched over the flesh of your thighs, your calves. He dug his hands into them, wondered if they would leave an imprint.

“I’m gonna eat this cunt of yours, because I deserve it, ain’t that right?” He asked, not that it was really ever a question of if he deserved it or not. If he thought about it too hard, he might come to the conclusion that no, he doesn’t really, but you don’t deny him either way.

“Yeah, you do, it’s yours.” You gasped as he settled himself between your legs, ignoring his cock for just a minute or two as he licked a hot stripe up your cunt.

You moaned and let a hand fly down to his hair, let yourself grip tight at the base of his scalp, and he practically purred into your pussy, thrust his tongue in as deep as it could go, ate you out like it was his last meal on earth. He could die happy, die just like this, suffocate in your cunt.

He decided he was going to take his time with you to make up for the quickie he had to give you earlier that morning. Decided he was going to drag it all out as long as he possibly could, make you come as many times as he could.

And oh, he could.

“You better come down my fucking throat, don’t you fucking hold out on me, okay?” He pulled away, smacked the outside of your thigh so hard that the sound of it startled you.

“Okay okay okay, I’ll come, make me come.” You laughed, a laugh that dissolved into a great big moan as he lowered his head back down.

You tasted like heaven, like pure sweet sex, like everything he had ever hoped and dreamed and longed for, all right there, right between your legs. Your pussy throbbed for him, your hips undulating in short little movements that had Pale’s chest growing warm.

He stroked your walls with his tongue, held your hip and your thigh steady so you wouldn’t go jerkin’ around or nothing, so you couldn’t go wriggling away like you were wont to do sometimes when things got too overwhelming. He wanted you overwhelmed, wanted you babbling.

He grazed his teeth over your clit and you had to throw one of your legs over his shoulder, the heel of your foot digging into his back, digging into the suit jacket he still hadn’t taken off, that he could feel he was sweating through. He didn’t give a shit, just kept licking at you, spelled his name, whispered secrets there, you moaning and panting all the while.

He liked you like that, liked that he could see your skin going shiny with sweat, liked that he could hear the whine in your throat as you fisted his hair.

He felt you coming before he tasted it, felt the way you tensed up for a split second, the way your knees locked around him, the way your toes curled. He couldn’t help but smirk right into your cunt, drinking all your come as it pulsed into his mouth.

“Good girl.” He pulled away, glanced up at you through the valley of your tits, nipples rock hard against the air.

But you, sweet thing that you were, you weren’t finished, there’s no way you could be, not ever satisfied until you got his cock in you, and you were already licking your lips, already reaching for him, trying to pull him up by his cheeks, by his ears.

“Pale, please – ” You said, but he lunged up to kiss you, cutting you off, bruising your lips with his own in a searing kiss that left you breathless.

He stroked your face with his sticky fingers, smeared your come and sweat around, licked and licked the corner of your mouth as his hand pinched at one of your nipples so hard that he could feel more of your come sliding out of your cunt, onto his thigh.

“Be patient, greedy whore.” He said, dropping his hand down to your pussy, making you gasp and moan as he fucked you with your own slick, two big fingers slowly slowly pumping in and out of you, making your hips lift up to try and get more friction, “It’s my fuckin’ birthday, ain’t it?”

“Uh huh.” You nodded, and Pale smirked.

“Then we’re gonna do what I want.” He said, plain and simple, and you pouted, didn’t like not getting your way. Greedy.

“What do you want?” You asked, voice hoarse, and he hummed, hummed and hummed and pretended to think while he fingered you, while your hand grasped at his wrist to prevent him from pulling away, while he sank down the bed just enough to ease your other nipple between his teeth.

“I want you to cry for me.” He said, adding a third finger to your pussy. His ring, middle, and index finger were doing their best to bring tears to your eyes, and they succeeded, especially when he included his thumb into the mix, using that to barely barely barely rub your clit.

He sucked on your nipple as he fingered you, and he had a hard time keeping the grin off his face when your hips thrust into his hand, when you really started fucking yourself on his fingers, when he lets you use him for your pleasure.

“Yes! Oh, oh Pale.” You cried, fat tears sliding down your cheeks and soaking into your hair, into the pillowcase below.

“Yeah that’s right, say my name, say my fucking name – shout it out. I want the whole fucking city to know who owns this pussy.” He snarled, suddenly taking control again, sliding his pinky into you too.

Fuck, he could fist you, could stick his whole hand in you if he wanted, could reach all the way inside you and fucking punch your cunt from the inside out.

The thought was addicting, absolutely fucking addicting, even moreso than the coke, than the music, than anything else.

“Pale! You do, I’m yours, I’m your whore – spit on me do whatever I’m yours.” You sobbed as he did what you asked, leaned back enough to spit right on your cunt, used it as lube even though you were drenched, you were sopping wet, his hand glistening and shining as he dragged it in and out of you.

He was so hard in his pants, leaking, he could feel himself leaking, and he wanted nothing more than to fuck you so badly but he wanted you to come again first, wanted you to fucking go at it again, wanted it to blow your fucking mind.

He sped up and up and up, until you were convulsing under him, until you were sobbing loud, orgasm hitting you so hard that you were bleeding from how hard you bit your lips.

He pulled his hand away abruptly, watching your cunt gape and wink at him, watching your pussy flutter, watching your stomach tense and your chest heave as you sobbed and sobbed, as your knees fell open and you were nothing more than a limp, twitching mess.

He shucked all his clothes off, did another little bump of coke, just the tiniest bit, emptied the rest of his little vial down his nose and under his lips, sliding into you real easy.

You took him no problem, pussy already contracting around his cock as he pounded you. He didn’t want to take his time with this, he wanted to blow his load as deep in you as he could go. He imagined it shooting up into your stomach, up your throat, into your mouth, imagined you swallowing it back down again.

He knew that wasn’t, it wasn’t how that worked, but fuck the thought turned him on so much he groaned and growled in your ear.

You were still crying, hiccupping, as he fucked into you, rammed his cock so hard and fast that it was all he could do but hold onto your hips, keep you pinned beneath him. He had to re-arrange you so that you were lying on your stomach, propped up on pillows because you had gone so limp as he shoved his cock into your wet cunt from behind, making you drool and drool.

He wasn’t going to last, not like this, not with the blood rushing to his cock, making him dizzy dizzy dizzy. He wanted one more from you, knew it was too much to ask, he knew that – but he wanted it anyway, wanted to make you scream, wanted everyone to know it was him, only him, always him.

“Again, do it again.” He demanded, bit down hard at the spot where your neck and shoulder met, but you only moaned loud and high.

“I – I can’t.” You whined, eyes shut tight tight tight, mouth dropped open, gasping for breath. God you looked a fucking wreck, it was gorgeous, everything about you was gorgeous.

“Yes you can, be good for me, you can be good, can’t you?” He murmured, soft and sweet as his balls slapped hard against your ass, as your shoulders pinched back, regaining some ability to move once more, using that ability to meet his hips for every thrust.

“Pale it’s so much.” You said despite all that, despite going back for more and more.

He pulled your hair away from your face, licked up your tears there as he fucked you, as he could feel his own orgasm start to creep up on him, as he could feel himself grow more and more desperate.

He wanted one more out of you, just one more, before he came in you.

“I know sweetheart I know, you can keep going, I know you can.” He soothed you with his words as his big hands gripped too tight, left real bruises there that would make you sore, bruises he’d press his fingertips into later, to remind you of the sweet sting, “You’re such a pretty slut.”

“Pale – I – oh fuck!” You shouted, coming one last time, making Pale finally fucking come, finally push his hips into you with enough force that it knocked you down off your elbows.

It felt like the crashing waves of the ocean, like the slam of cymabls, like the roar of a thunderstorm, coming into you, coming and coming, pining you down and filling you with it, hot and thick.

He felt victorious in a sick sort of way, god he had you, he was the only lucky bastard to ever have you.

“You ain’t never had a cock like mine huh baby?” He asked, as his hips came to a slow roll, as he fucked his come in and out of you, felt it squelch around his cock, felt it drip all over the sheets. “Say it.”

“No, never, only you.” He was proud at reducing you to this, to barely being able to speak a few words. He did that to you, made you come that hard.

“Fucking ruined you for any other dick huh? Never gonna have anything like this again huh?” He asked, and you gulped down big breaths of air as you tried to breathe, tried to get yourself together, even as he milked your orgasms for what it was worth.

“No no no, never, you’re the only one – oh Christ.” You moaned when he dropped a hand back to your clit, made you sob for him just a little more, trapped you.

You pushed your hips away from his hand only to fuck yourself deeper onto his cock, and you were shaking shaking shaking all over, all over, hands flexing and gripping the sheets, searching for a reprieve where there was only more acute pleasure.

When he pulled out, it was careful, so so careful, not wanting to hurt you. A huge pang of regret hit his chest in the fear that he had done real damange, that he had hurt you, and he spent time carefully checking over you, asking you if you were alright, bringing you water and wiping you down with a soft towel, one that wouldn’t irritate your skin.

You looked asleep, looked almost like you had blacked out, but when he shuffled under the covers with you and looped his arms around you, you smiled, little tremors running through your body.

He wondered when it started, when the sex became second best, second only to the moments like these, the moments where he gets to just lay with you. You’re covered in tears and there’s spit all over the place, spit and sweat, a lazy hand swirling it where it’s pooled in the dip of your navel. Your whole body is flushed and blotchy and your breathing is still uneven, and Pale can’t help but think you’re perfect.

The sex was incredible, but this, this was always something else, something he had never had before.

After a long time, a long long time, when he was sure you really had fallen asleep, you bit your lips and tapped his chest, getting his attention – as if it weren’t always on you anyway.

“I wanted your opinion on somethin’.” You whispered in the quiet, voice hoarse from all the shouting, all the yelling.

“How’s that honey?” He asked, voice soft and gentle, always gentle with you after being too rough, his hand caressing your back.

“My apartment. Lease is almost up you know.” You said, and he nods.

“Yeah, I know.” He said back, yawning great and big, as you trace his gold chain with the very tip of your finger.

“I was thinking maybe I wasn’t gonna renew it.” You said, making him crack an eye open to look at you.

“Are you bein’ serious right now or did the fucking get to your head?” He asked, and you grinned, and he pinched your cheek, your nose, only making you grin even more.

“I’m bein’ serious. I was thinking maybe…I could not renew the lease, and instead move in. Here, with you. You know I just figure since I’ve been spending a lot of time here, and I’ve already got so much stuff moved over from my place. And it could be nice to have this, have you to come home to when you come home. You wouldn’t have to deal with my walk-up or my neighbors or Marty or nothin’, we could just be here together.” You said, like you had been rehearsing, like you had been practicing. And he was entirely on board until you said, “I could help with rent, we could split it halfsies.”

“No.” He shook his head abruptly, making your gaze fall, your hand withdraw from where he had been running over and over the gold.

“…Oh. Okay – ” You said, and he wanted to kick himself because fuck he didn’t realize how that sounded.

“Huh, no! No not no, I meant, no you ain’t gonna split the rent with me at all. You ain’t gonna pay for rent, not with me.” He said, cupping your cheeks in his hand, makin’ you look up at him.

“Pale but this place has to be expensive – ” You frowned, but he shook his head, kissed you real gentle on the mouth, kissed reassurance into your lips.

“Yeah, and? I got it, I don’t want you spendin’ any money, okay? Not on shit like this. You’re gonna live here and you’re not gonna worry about anythin’, okay? I mean it.” He said, adamant, and your eyes lit up.

“You really want me to stay?” You whispered, and Pale wondered if he’d not been doin’ a good job at making you feel wanted, if you had to ask a question like that.

“I’ve wanted you to stay for damn near a year, (Y/N).” He said, making you grin, “I’ve wanted you to stay ever since I first saw you through that window of yours. I want you to be here in the mornings with me so I can fuck you awake, so I can come in your mouth for breakfast and I want you to make coffee for me while I bitch about the construction and I want you to paint your toenails on the fire escape so the smell of the acetone don’t stink up the living room. I want you to go out shopping and come home in lingerie that I get to rip off. I want to dance with you in the fuckin’ dining room and the living room and the bedroom and I want you to cry on my cock all the time.”

“I’m gonna have to sell all my furniture.” You laughed, crying for something different, for a whole different reason, and Pale just wiped the happy tear away, licked it off his thumb.

“No you’re not, move it over, your shit’s only across the fuckin’ street.” He said, before pinching at your cheek and teasing, “It ain’t like you got anything anyway.”

“Shut the fuck up,” You giggled, blissed out and euphoric, “Where am I gonna put my tub?”

“It can go in the second bathroom, if you want. We don’t got a tub here, only the shower.” He said, he didn’t care, he was over the fucking moon.

You could put the tub anywhere you damn well pleased, could put it right in the fucking bedroom if you wanted, he didn’t care. He suddenly just so overcome with affection, adoration, love for you, for wanting him, wanting to be and stay with him.

“I’m glad you moved here.” You said, sincerity in your eyes and deep deep in your chest, “I don’t think I ever said that before. But I am.”

“I’m glad too. If for only because of you. The traffic’s a bitch and the people suck and the air ain’t clean and people are dyin’ all the time, dyin’ in the streets and in the parks and in their apartments, but at least I got you. No where else has you.” He said, took a second just to look at you, just to admire how beautiful you were, “They say that somewhere between living and dreaming, there’s New York. I don’t know, I think between living and dreaming, there’s you.”

You blushed, always so soft for him, for his words when he gives them to you like this, when he can finally figure out how to express himself to you.

He had a bit of a hard time sometimes, expressing himself to you, but he’d gotten better, this past year – had tried, anyway.

“Is that a grey hair?” You asked randomly, letting your fingers comb through his locks, and he groaned.

“For fucks sake, another one?” He asked, already searching for a mirror in the side-table drawer, making you laugh and tug him back down to cuddle up with you under the covers.

“What? No! Don’t rip it out.” You insisted, smacking his hand away, grabbing it and bringing it to your lips where you could kiss the knuckles there, the back of his hands.

“Why not?” He frowned, thinking of how he yanked one out earlier.

“I like it. Makes you look distinguished.” You grinned up at him, and his heart thudded in his chest.

“You sayin’ I looked unimpressive before?” He teased, and you just laughed, and he laughed, and for a little while, everything felt like it was going to be perfect forever.

Until there was a pounding on the front door, that had you both startled.

“What was that?” You asked, as you sat up straight away, reacting to the noise with annoyance rather than fear.

You were out of the bed in an instant, as the pounding resumed, putting on your big soft robe Pale had gotten you and storming out of the room.

Pale scrambled, not knowing who the fuck it was, not knowing it they were a dangerous person or not. He threw on some clothes too, pulled his own robe tight around his hips and chased after you, panic flooding his system as he tried to recall if he had pissed anyone off.

“(Y/N), wait a fuckin’ second let me – ” He rushed, when the pounding on the door didn’t stop.

“Open the fucking door!” A voice called from the other side, and Pale’s blood ran cold, chilled right through his fucking body, because he recognized that voice, knew exactly who it had belonged to.

How the fuck had she found him?

“Okay just shut the fuck! Up!” He shouted, irritation and rage consuming him as he yanked the door open, as the two of you were met with a slap in the face each from the well manicured hand of a woman Pale honestly thought he wouldn’t have to fucking see in person again for a long long time.

“You got some real fucking nerve talking to me like that.” She hissed at him, bullying her way into the apartment, rounding on you with her hand poised to slap you again, “And you!” She shouted, making Pale’s protective instinct kick into overdrive as he stepped between you and her, as he grabbed her arms and shook her like some fucking psychotic rag doll.

“Hey! What the fuck is the matter with you? Hey! Fucking look at me.” Pale shouted in her face while you stood stunned behind him, eyes wide, confused and scared, “You ever touch (Y/N) like that again I swear to god I’ll break your fuckin’ bones, Barbie.” He shook her hard again before dropping his grip on her with such force she stumbled back against the wall.

“Don’t call me that Jimmy, you piece of shit.” She spit on the floor, literally spit on his floor, red in the face and seething.

“Pale who – ” You finally spoke up, arms snaking around his middle from behind, wanting to keep him close to you.

“I’m his wife.” She sneered, and Pale wanted to scream, because of course she would pull a stunt like this, of course.

“(Y/N), this is Barabra.” He said through a clenched jaw, already trying to race through what the fuck it was she could possibly want.

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Tagging some pals! As always please let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off the tag list <3 @fullofbees @spinebarrel @dreamboatdriver @thecurlycaptain @bourbonboredom @driverficarchive @rosalynbair @redhairedfeistynerd @adamsnackdriver @glitzescape @adamsnacc-kler @kyloxfem @fallin-for-youreyes @kylo-renne @attorneyl @jedihbic @bens-rose @callmehopeless @formerly-anonhamster @thepilotanon @hippieface @tinyplanet-explorers @satansstrawberry

#reader insert #pale x reader #pale burn this #burn this broadway #blue moon #pale blue moon #adam driver character #my writing #twos company

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