#just take the glass from his fingers and take a sip

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

The noise of a lawnmower welcomes you out into the vibrant summer day. Your mother is already on the porch, sat on the patio bench. You can tell she’s primped herself up just a little bit. You put the jug of lemonade on the wicker table and stand by the end of the long eat. 

“A kind man,” your mother muses beneath the racket of the mower, “about time we got someone decent ‘round here. You know,” she furrows her brow viciously, “those bitches from the cul-de-sac never liked your nana. Hate us even more. Stepford hags.” 

You nod and peek over at Steve as he pushes the mower in a straight line. The grass falls to the blade and leaves thick clippings in rows. You twiddle your fingers as you notice the shine of sweat on the man’s forehead and forearms. His act of kindness feels more like pity. 

“Don’t be stupid, girl, go grab some cups,” your mother snipes and draws your attention back to the porch. “That man’s going to think I raised a moron.” 

You retreat back into the house. For as pleasant as she was to your new neighbour, it has done little for her mood. Or maybe it’s just you. 

You grab two of the rippled plastic cups from the cupboard and head back down the hall. You stop as you reflection passes you in the mirror. You turn to face it. You frown. You’re nothing special to look at but you don’t do much to help that. You wonder if you put on some mascara or wore something nicer if you might look anything close to pretty. 

You shrug off the fleeting insecurity. It’s not important. Your mother’s sick and your little uncertainties don’t mean anything. You push through the screen door and clack the cups down. As you do, the mower quiets and you peer over. The grass is trimmed neatly as Steve stands close to the steps, wiping his forehead as his cheeks burn rosy form the heat. 

“Whew, think I’ll try some of that lemonade,” he climbs the steps, “hot one today.” 

As he climbs the last step and he drags his hands down his tee shirt. His grey blonde hair droops forward and he tries to shake it out of his face. He tugs at the hem of his shirt and lifts it over his head, revealing a sweat-dampened undershirt. 

“Don’t mind me,” he chuckles as he uses the outer layer to mop his face and neck, “think I overdressed.” 

“Get him some lemonade,” your mother hisses and points to the jug. “Steve, was it? What brings you to Heron Meadows?” 

You unstack one cup from the other and fill both. You set the pitcher back down and step back on your heel, folding your hands together as you fade into the background. You’re peripheral to your mother. You only exist when she needs you. 

“Well, settling down, I think,” he smiles and reaches for a cup. He raises it and stops it just in front of his chest. He carefully gestures at you with it, “thanks.” 

Your eyes round and you glance away, “welcome.” 

“Settling down?” Your mother echoes coyly. 

“I know, I’m a bit late to the game. Had to get out of the city. Maybe I outgrew it,” he sighs, “and you two? Where’s your husband hanging out?” 

You mother laughs and crosses one leg over the other, not easily as she struggles to still the shake in her foot, “long gone. He never saw this place.” 

“Ah, hope I didn’t hit a sore spot,” Steve’s cheek dimples before he sips from the glass. 

“Mm, don’t feel much for the deadbeat,” your mother tisks, “what about you? Settling down? Is your wife coming with the couch?” 

“Ah, yeah,” he reaches over to plant his hand against the pillar that connects to the rail. He leans on it and gulps again. He swallows before he continues, his eyes meeting yours for the split second you dare to look up, “missed that step but the house will keep me busy until I figure that out.” 

“Oh don’t you worry, that little club will keep you busy,” your mother scoffs, “make sure ya keep your picket fence nice and whitewashed.” 

Steve gives a curious furrow of his brow. You mother sniffs as her little quip hangs in the air. 

“HOA,” you put in quietly. 

“Mm, I bought out of that,” he says. “Outdated if you ask me. I don’t need them telling me what colour to paint my door.” 

“Bought out?” Your mother grumbles. 

“I didn’t relish the extra lawyer fees but worth it,” Steve explains before he empties the cup and puts it back down, “thanks, that was great. Uh, guess I should get started on the back.” 

You stand dumbly as you mother agrees with a grumble. An awkward silence thickens around you and she snaps in your direction with her fingers, “take him out back, honey.” 

“Oh, uh, sure,” you clamour forward as if awoken from a slumber. “Just...” you near Steve and step around him to scurry down the stairs. “this way.” 

He leaves his tee shirt draped over the railing and turns to follow. He looms like a shadow behind you and as you stop to reach over the top of the gate and unlock it, you scratch around blindly. He steps closer and hooks his arm over yours. The smell of his sweat fills your nose. 

“Got it,” he says as he easily unlatches the clasp and the gate slants inward. 

You push through, quickly making distance from him as he trails you into the backyard. It’s even worse than the front. You grab the broken mower from where you left it and drag it towards the garage. 

“Great, I’ll go grab the mower,” he declares and leaves you to shove your way awkwardly into the side door of the garage. You push the rusted metal inside and the door snaps shut at your back as you emerge back into the sunlight. 

Steve pushes through his nice electric mower and you shy away. It’s got to be close to new and no doubt expensive. You trod through the tall grass and as you pass him, his arm brushes yours. 

“I could do the eaves too,” he stops beside you. “Get some of these weeds cut too.” 

“No thanks,” 

“I don’t mind,” he insists. 

“I can manage.” 

“You can. Probably a lot. Your mom...” he suggests, letting his words hang. “She sick?” 

You glance at his chest, the white fabric taught to his muscles above his thick stomach. You nod. 

“You take care of her?” He prompts. 

“Do my best,” you mutter and traipse on, “thanks.” 

“Right, uh,” he calls after you, “well, if you change your mind or think of anything, you can always ask.” 

You keep on. He feels bad for you. Just like everyone else. You’ve heard Marge and Lucy on their daily power walk; poor thing, going nowhere, sad... 

You go back out front, leaving the gate open. You go to grab the broom from the porch as your mother remains as she was. Her hand trembles on her thigh. 

“You know, should clean up around here,” she says, “invite him for dinner as thank you. Maybe tomorrow.” 

You take the broom and stop at the bottom of the steps, “maybe tomorrow,” you agree. 

“He’s a nice man. Could use one of those,” she smirks, “never had one of those. Handsome to boot.” 

It’s strange. You haven’t seen your mother smile since your grandma was around and even then, it wasn’t like this. The way she’s talking is almost ravenous. Like she’s slathering over a pork chop still on the grill. 

“Just gonna sweep up the trimmings,” you explain as you drag the broom down the walk. 

“Ugh, do whatever, you simple girl,” she chides. “When you’re done, you start on that kitchen. Those damn dishes have been sitting there all day.” 

“Yes mother,” you say to the broomstick as you begin to sweep. 

The sun beams relentlessly down, pouring onto you like fire. When you’re done, you return the broom to its place against the siding of the house and let yourself inside. Your mother hums as she watches the birds. You should be happy to see her outside, to see her in a better mood, but you’re too uneasy with the presence of that man. You know his name but it doesn’t make him any less a stranger. 

You fill the sink and add soap. You plunge a stack of plates into the water and stare out the small window above. You can see the side of the next house. It isn’t much too look at but sometimes a squirrel will critter along the wooden fence top. 

As you zone out, hands working mindlessly on scrubbing and dousing, a shift in the foggy colours of your vision brings your eyes into focus. You blink as Steve waves from outside. He rolls the mower up to the gate and smiles at you. You wince, jolted by the reminder of him. You offer a flutter of your soapy fingers. 

He stops and stares at you through the window. You blink, uncertain what to do. He’s just looking at you. He winks and you wince at the gesture. He slaps his hand back down on the mower and pushes it through to the front yard. That was odd. 

Or maybe you’re just awkward. 

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #the girl next door #series #au #silverfox au #mcu #marvel #captain america

[harrysbelovedd]

the kook's girl [rafe cameron]

pairing - rafe cameron x kook reader

summary - being the only girl in the kook friend group, you were always taken care of. especially since you and rafe started dating four months ago. safe to say, everyone on the island knew not to mess with you if they valued their life at all. so, when the tourons came to town in the summer, the kook boys always got their bit of fun.

warnings - swearing, fighting, just our fav protective!rafe

"Sarah, it's our song!" She slurred, grabbing onto her best friend's hand, pulling her onto the dance floor.

Rafe and Sarah are never on good terms, but Rafe knows no matter how much he hates his sister, she'll always be his girl's best friend. He's grateful for it sometimes, as annoying as it can be, it's just one more person who cares about her and is always looking out for her when Rafe can't be.

But tonight, as both kook girls are drunk off their asses, Rafe keeps a close eye. He spots John B doing the same from across the club as he sits next to Kiara, still keeping a close eye on his girl, Sarah.

Rafe sits in a booth at the club, nursing a glass of whiskey in his palm. Topper and Kelce sit next to him, talking about things he could not care less about at the moment. For example, the girls on the dance floor they want to take home, golf, etc.

No, Rafe's attention is solely on the girl who lights up the dance floor in her sparkly pink dress which Rafe bought for her just three days prior. Her gold necklace with the letter 'R' hanging from her neck shines brightly as the club lights hit it. Her baby pink kitten heels travel her elegantly across the floor as her arm remains tightly latched onto Sarah's as they dance in tune.

He barely even notices the slight smile etched onto his lips in affection as he takes a slow sip from his glass.

"Yo!"

Rafe's attention is abruptly moved from his girl to his dumbass friends as Topper pulls on his white half-way unbuttoned shirt.

"What?" Rafe spits, rolling his eyes at their antics.

"Tourons, 12 o'clock." Topper warns.

"What the fuck? I think they're looking at Y/n and Sarah, man." Kelce points out, suddenly sitting up straighter as they both snap out of their previous conversations to keep an eye on the situation.

This catches his attention as he clocks the three sun burnt tourists waltzing in wearing khaki shorts, polos, and flip flops. Idiots. He notices one of them point in Y/n's direction as the other's snicker, laughing as they spoke to each other.

Rafe’s eyes dart back to Y/n, oblivious as ever, in her own little world.

"I've almost been waiting to pick a fight," He confesses. "Just wait till they get too close."

The three morons make their way in the direction of Y/n. One particular guy, wearing a blue tropical button up, comes up behind Y/n, tapping her shoulder. Rafe is just close enough to overhear the conversation.

“Hey, I’m Ethan,” he smirks, hungry eyes looking her up and down.

She turns around, her smile slightly fading at his stare. “Um, hi.” She spins back around, grabbing onto Sarah.

“You two are pretty little things, out here by yourselves.” He chuckles, his hand moving to her shoulder.

“You gonna go out there man?” Topper asks, getting anxious for the girls.

“No, just wait. I want a real excuse to kill em’.” Rafe responds, his fists clenching.

Ethan’s grimy hands near Y/n’s neck, his index finger latching onto her gold ‘R’ necklace. “What’s your name, hm? R…?”

“You’re gonna regret that,” Y/n whispers, her eyes meeting Rafe.

Rafe stands, marching over to Ethan. Rafe’s fist latches onto the back of his collar, pulling him back as Y/n’s necklace slips from his grasp. Rafe turns him around, knocking a punch to his jaw, blood spurting from his lips onto Rafe’s face.

Rafe lets go aggressively, the boy falling to the ground forcefully. Rafe smirks, his ringed hand coming up to wipe Ethan’s blood from his jaw. “The ‘R’ stands for Rafe. Her boyfriend.” He states before knocking one more punch to the boy’s cheek.

“I-I’m sorry,” He pathetically whimpers, begging for mercy.

“She clearly had zero fucking interest in you, yet you continued,” He chuckles. Rafe leans down, pulling Ethan’s neck up by his collar. “You better hope your flight out of here is tomorrow morning. If not, watch your back man.”

Topper and Kelce come into view, peering at the man below Rafe, only inciting more fear into the poor tourist. Ethan’s two friends quickly pull him up, scattering out of the club as fast as they can.

Rafe turns to Y/n, his demeanor immediately turning soft, a side of himself only she gets to see. “You okay, baby?” He asks, his eyes scanning over her face for any discomfort.

“I’m okay, just some asshole tourist.” She rolls her eyes, manicured fingers grasping onto her necklace.

His eyes flick down to her hand, she only fidgets with her necklace when she’s uncomfortable or nervous. He feels more rage and anger boil up inside him thinking about how that guy ruined her night of fun with Sarah.

“Wanna go home, baby?” Rafe whispers softly, fingers pushing her hair behind her ears.

She bites her lip in debate, turning toward her friend Sarah. Sarah nods her head, “It’s okay, I’m gonna have John B take me back to his place too, it’s getting late anyway.”

“Yeah, okay, let’s go home. I’ll text you Sarah, we can hang out tomorrow, yeah?” Y/n feels guilty, her and Sarah haven’t gotten to spend as much time together ever since she started dating John B and hanging out with his friends more.

Y/n had nothing against the pogues, she thought the rivalry was stupid and childish. She actually found them quite nice, but she spends every minute with her best friends, Rafe, Topper, and Kelce.

Rafe slings his arm around her shoulder after giving his goodbyes to Topper and Kelce, walking you to his truck. He opens the door for you without a word, buckling you in and shutting the door.

When he gets in on his side, starting the truck, he looks over at his girl at her sad eyes. “What’s wrong, angel?”

She sniffles, “I just miss Sarah. Wanted to hang out with her tonight but those guys ruined it.”

Rafe’s hand slips around her thigh, patting it lovingly. “I know, hon. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure Sarah gets her ass off the cut tomorrow to hang out with you, okay?”

She smiles, her hand finding comfort atop Rafe’s. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he leans over, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.

#rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #outer banks #obx fic #rafe obx #rafe cameron fluff #protective rafe #rafe x reader

[slayfics]

heyyy i love you’re writing!! i’ve been listening to so much nessa barrett lately and her one song “lie” made me really want to read like a bakugou x reader story line of the song i feel like you’re writing would work well with it 🥹🥹

You see Katsuki on tv. Warnings: angst 600 words

You watched as bubbles crackled in your now almost empty drink, the ice collapsing into itself. Lime soaked and slowly disintegrated in the liquid.

"Another one sweetheart?" The bartender asks, bringing you out of your daydream.

You nod with a faint smile, it's the biggest smile you can gather up. The bartender gets working on your drink, feeling obligated to make small talk he looks up at you again, "You here alone?" he asks, pouring a shot into a new glass.

It's a simple question. It shouldn't send you spiraling, but it does.

"Yeah," you reply shortly.

He tops the drink off with soda water and lime and slides it over to your side of the bar, "Well I'm sure that's by choice," he says giving you a courteous wink and nod.

You can't help but scoff. Of course, it's not by choice. There is someone you want to be here with.

Then as if your thoughts willed it so, breaking news broadcasts on the screen interrupting the mundane sitcom. "Pro hero Dynamite at work to subdue a villain," the live feed reads.

You can't stop the way your pupils dilate, and your fingers tighten around your glass.

The helicopter filming the scene struggles to keep up with his movements, but there he is exploding through the city effortlessly giving the villain the fight of their life.

Cops attempt to keep pedestrians at bay, but the crowd is excited to see Dynamite working in action. The group of onlookers only grows as more pull out their phones to record.

He's so famous now.

It happened overnight.

One moment it was just you and Katsuki, and now, he's a pro hero known all over.

He's not Katsuki or Kacchan anymore, he's Dynamite, and everywhere you turned people wanted to take him away from you.

And it worked?

You hadn't heard from Katsuki in over a month. Texts left on read, memes left without even an emoji.

He's busy, you told yourself. Being a pro hero was taking a lot out of him. You couldn't expect much, you had to be supportive. Yet, you couldn't shake the lingering thoughts that grew as more time passed with dead air between you two.

Had he met someone else?

Bringing the glass up to your lips to take a sip, you realized your hands had begun to shake.

As famous as he was now, he had come across many new faces. Fancy galas and expensive dinner parties. Who were you to complete anymore? A small-town friend left long in the shadowed past of his new bright and shiny life.

No. Surely, he respects you enough to have let you know, right?

He's just busy.

Katsuki lets out an explosion bringing the villain down. The scene erupts into cheers. You watch eyes glued to the screen; Katsuki shoves his mask up to his forehead wiping the sweat off his face. Reporters rush to try and get lucky enough to speak to him.

Then it happens.

The universe-altering moment.

It happens fast but you see it in slow motion, every second more painful than the next.

The epitome of a beautiful woman breaks through the crowd, to run and wrap her arms around his neck. Pushing up to her tip toes to press a passionate kiss to his cheek, and he doesn't pull away. He smiles.

A guttural scream that you don't recognize as your own escapes you. Glass flies out of your hand shattering the bar TV.

Whoever she is please, let it be a lie.

Oh man- this song did a number on me. It’s so painfully beautiful. I hope this fic was somewhat what you had in mind. It’s what came out when I sat down to type so I hope you enjoy! Thank you for this request, I missed writing some angst.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @renwei @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @that-one-fangirl69 @pinkpurpledreams

#slay writes #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x gender neutral reader #mha bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x self insert #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #bnha katsuki #katsuki angst #bakugo angst #mha angst #bnha angst #mha x y/n #mha x gender neutral reader #mha x you #mha x reader #bnha x self insert #bnha x y/n #bnha x gender neutral reader #bnha x you #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo #bakugou x reader #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugou

[aealzx]

Shortly after Mikey had left, Leo was surprised to see a different being enter the room, squeezing through the cracked doorway and padding onto the matted floor. An adult orange cat silently coming to no doubt take up residence on Leo’s lap. But then she froze in place when she spotted another, unfamiliar person there, eyeing Donnie with wary curiosity. “Onion Ring?” Leo spoke quietly, addressing the cat as well as giving Donnie a name as a way to let him know the little furry creature belonged to them.

Donnie had already finished all the food that had been brought in, and was just sitting with his arms around curled knees when the new cat caught his attention. And after Onion Ring unfroze and hesitantly started to approach them while sniffing the air Donnie reached his curled fingers out towards her. Onion Ring stretched her head towards the limb, bobbing with each inhale as her whiskers twitched. Then, to Leo’s surprise, Onion Ring curled her head forward to bump and rub against Donnie’s hand repeatedly, a soft purr rumbling from her.

“That’s surprising. She took forever to even be in the same room as April,” Leo commented quietly, pleased to see the tiny smile Donnie got. Apparently cats were acceptable to him right now.

“Not that surprising,” Mikey commented, slipping back into the room with a glass of orange juice and Donnie’s headphones. “He probably smells a lot more like her daddy than humans do. I caught her sleeping on the three of them a few hours ago. She probably got used to them already. Huh? My precious lil baby girl.” Mikey’s voice pooled into smothering gushing as he reached out to pet Onion Ring with both hands, having passed the other items over to Donnie as soon as he could.

Once the headphones were within reach Donnie quickly grabbed at them and pulled them carefully back onto his head. At first Leo thought the small device was just a form of comfort for Donnie to have, something familiar in an unfamiliar place. But after watching Donnie rapidly tap several subtle buttons on the side he realized they were something else. Was it music? Did that mean he was okay with having them talking, as long as they weren’t yelling? Donnie still wasn’t speaking vocally, but he seemed to be in a better mood once the headphones were in place. His expression relaxed a little more, and as one hand picked up the orange juice to sip the other reached out to pet Onion Ring some more. At least he wasn’t shying away from being in contact with everything. But Leo did notice he would still flinch when he accidentally touched Mikey’s hands, so made a note to still keep his distance for now.

It didn’t take long for Donnie to finish the glass of juice, and after it was gone and Onion Ring wandered off to another corner of the room Leo noticed Donnie seemed to be getting restless. Feet shuffling from one being over the top of the other, to switching and the opposite foot being on top. Adjusting the blanket multiple times. Many glances towards the door, and around the room without actually looking at anything in particular. Eventually Mikey reached out to scoop Onion Ring up when she came back to rub against him, rising to his feet and looking at Donnie. “Hey, why don’t we go back to the living room with the rest of your family? Lil Mikey and Raphy were playing with my other cat earlier. We can see if they can get both Pepper and Onion going,” he offered, giving a bright smile.

Donnie’s gaze locked on Mikey when he started talking, and to Leo’s relief he nodded in response to the offer. Pulling the blanket close, Donnie shifted to stand up as well, semi hesitantly following Mikey out of the room. He was deliberate in keeping well out of range of accidentally bumping into anyone as he silently walked behind, betraying his informal training in silencing his movements. Mikey didn’t mind though, more focused on keeping Onion Ring calm while he brought her to a crowd of unfamiliar, and rather noisy, people. It seemed that Raphael had goaded Don, Leon and April into playing video games with him, and the four were easily reaching decibels that Leo may have been concerned about if they were anywhere other than home.

“HA! Eat dirtbike losers!” April’s triumphant cheer caused Leo to check if Donnie was alright with the volume, eyes moving to him from behind. He didn’t seem to react to it at all though, which made Leo wonder once again what the headphones were doing.

“Oh dang, that was a good one,” Raphael praised as Don let out a frustrated noise.

“April what the hell? I thought we were friends!” Leon’s anguished cry followed along with the rapid clicking of the controller.

“Ohhh, got them playing Junkyard Brawl, huh?” Mikey commented, looking at the game on the screens and coming to stand near the couches. It was a little hard to see with the four players crowding in front, but it looked like they had tried to play it fair by splitting the teams in a way there was one guest and one host. Don and Leon against April and Raphael. And it looked like April and Raphael were barely in the lead.

Raph and Lil Mikey were still snuggled down together on the couch, bothing grinning hugely, and looking over when Mikey’s comment alerted them of his presence. And from that they spotted Donnie following close behind, their smiles growing bigger and eyes brightening.

“Donnie!” Both brothers chimed as Lil Mikey sat up a little straighter and Raph opened an arm to make room for Donnie to silently slide in next to them.

“Feeling a little better?” Raph asked, causing Donnie to look directly at him before Lil Mikey caught his attention. A point at Donnie, then finger almost hooking into his own ear, then an open palm near his chin before being brought down. It was a little hard to be limited to one hand, but Donnie seemed to understand well enough. A single nod was given to both of his brothers as Donnie wiggled to get comfortable in the space tucked in next to Raph.

Strangely enough, having all five of their guests in the same room, most of them so closely snuggled with each other, and otherwise just having fun and relaxing, caused Leo to breathe a heavy sigh of relief as he came to stop a short ways behind the couch. With Onion Ring squirming too much, Mikey let her down to scurry away and hide as he had to chuckle in response to Leo, shifting up next to his brother.

“I know that sigh,” Mikey commented quietly. “Mission finally accomplished, eh?”

The comment earned a soft snicker from Leo, and he loosely folded his arms, a little embarrassed about being so easily read. “Yeah. They’re all safe now. We’ll take a breather before we start to tackle how to get them home.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mikey agreed, giving Leo a thumbs up. “I’ll go check up on Casey and April, and see about trying to introduce them again.” Thankfully even after getting his nose to stop bleeding Mom April was able to keep Casey from immediately trying to talk to their guests again. Despite them being used to April, they still seemed quite skittish around Casey and Mom April. Leo and Mikey weren’t sure why, but they figured it would still be better to take it slow next time. Maybe Mikey would have to tell Casey to treat their guests like cats instead of turtles, and to keep his distance until they came to him.

As Mikey left to check on the others, Leo rested his arms on the back of the couch, giving the three brothers a smile when they looked at him briefly. As usual, Raphael was trying to handicap Don by shoving into his space but not actively blocking him. They’d already been banned from standing in front of each other while playing competitive games since they always ended up too close to the screen. Master Splinter was concerned not only for their health, but also for the equipment. But to Leo’s surprise even April and Leon were just as rambunctious. Somehow April had gotten Leon on the floor, and was sitting on his chest to keep him semi pinned. But Leon didn’t seem all that bothered and was continuing to play the game upside down. It must have been a common experience for him since none of his other brothers were reacting to it either.

“We should play this in Repo’s junkyard,” Lil Mikey commented, watching the others beating each other up in the game.

“I don’t think Ms. Nubbins would let us,” Raphael responded, the rumbling of his voice causing Donnie to glance up to make sure he wasn’t being addressed.

Leo wasn’t sure who Repo or Ms Nubbins were, but it sounded like these four were just as much of a handful as he and his brothers had been. Giving a soft chuckle, Leo shifted his gaze when Master Splinter came to stand next to him.

“Perhaps a request for dinner might be in order,” Master Splinter commented to Leo, calmly watching the others with fondness.

“Sure,” Leo agreed easily, taking out his phone again. Donnie had just eaten, but it would still be good to make sure everyone else would be well fed as well. “How about Thai food?”

His question had been to Master Splinter, but Lil Mikey keyed in on the choice and spoke up. “Ohhh Thai food is terrible to order. Too many peanut dishes.”

“...You don’t like peanuts?” Leo asked, paying attention to them now too.

“Raph’s allergic,” Raph answered simply, still watching the TV for a bit before looking over. “We usually don’t order any Asian, Indian, African, or Mexican food because of it. But If you guys want Thai then I can always have something else.”

Leo’s eyes widened slightly as he immediately grew anxious over the revelation, securely filing that fact away in his mind to never forget. “N’no, it’s fine. We can adjust,” he assured, running through the list of foods Raph said to avoid again. “...What about Italian?”

“Ooo, risotto and mozzarella mezzalune both sound good,” Lil Mikey agreed.

“Hey, you think they have that really cool salmon thing here we got once?” Leon chimed in, apparently paying attention now that food was being discussed.

“Oh, maybe that one pasta stuffed with meat?” Raph added.

“Uhhh, I have to admit I’m not sure what any of those are, but here’s the menu,” Leo responded, leaning over the couch so Raph and Lil Mikey could look at his phone with him.

“Oh! They have seafood risotto, how about that Leo?” Lil Mikey asked, looking over to Leon.

“Sounds awesome. Can we get garlic bread and cheese sticks too?” Leon asked, still stuck under April. “What about you April?”

“You mean after I keep kicking your butt?” April teased, grinning as Leon squawked after her character hit his with a mattress. “Honestly I’m good with anything. Lasagne or spaghetti or whatever.”

“Oh oh, this one for me,” Raph spoke up, pointing at a picture on the phone.

Leo was momentarily taken back when Leon requested three things, but then had to shake his head. Right. Teenagers. This would be quite the bill if he wanted to make sure they were all fed well. “And Donnie?” he asked, noting that Donnie was still watching the TV without reacting to the order being made.

Luckily Lil Mikey offered his help by waving his hand where Donnie could see, getting him to look up and watch him make three motions. And as Donnie took a moment to think, Lil Mikey noticed Leo’s brow furrow and gave him a quick explanation. “He’s not ignoring you. He probably just has his headphones silencing everything so he can’t hear us right now.”

As Leo made a soundless O in understanding and gave a slow nod, Lil Mikey watched the motions Donnie made before looking back to Leo. “Anything with scallops and noodles?”

“Uhhh,” Leo hummed to fill the pause, “Scallop alfredo?” he offered, letting Lil Mikey converse with Donnie again.

“Perfect,” Lil Mikey grinned, giving a thumbs up.

Adding the dish to the order, Leo scrolled through the menu to find what he wanted and called to his own brothers. “Don and Raph, is the usual okay for you guys?”

“Yeah, just make sure they don’t forget the onions this time,” Raphael accepted.

“Do the sea bass one this time, please,” Don requested, getting tired of shoving back against Raphael and casually stepping out of the way to make him stumble. It earned a chuckle from some of the others at first, until Leon took the opening while Raphael was semi distracted and knocked his player out of bounds.

“Oi!” Raphael protested as Lil Mikey, Raph and April gave a chorus of impressed and slightly mocking ‘Oo’s.

“Looks like we have an opportunistic leader on their side,” Don commented, just a hint of smugness in his planned opening being easily utilized.

Leon’s brow ended up furrowing a bit at the comment, and instead of gloating he just quickly responded with, “Actually Raph’s our leader.”

He hadn’t expected such a simple comment to distract Don enough to allow April the chance to take his player out of the game as well, ending with just her and Leon dueling. But after a stretch of consideration, Don just voiced a single thought about it. “Huh.”

Raphael on the other hand had more to say. “... Say what now?”

“Well, I guess we trade off every now and then, now. But growing up it was just Raph,” Leon clarified. “And now sometimes April takes over too. It just depends on who’s the most capable at the time.”

It was a thought that Raphael and Don hadn’t considered before, and inevitably caused them to fall quiet in thought. Leo had always been their leader, and to have anything different had always felt like a permanent overthrow to them. Unless it was situations like the recent adventure where Leo was simply not there to lead them. But to trade off? To just temporarily change leadership? It was a novel idea, and Raphael and Don both looked at each other before they ended up looking silently at Leo.

“Oh, don’t even,” Leo shot back, having finished the order and put away his phone just in time to see them stare at him. “We all know what happens when the rest of you try to lead. And it’s not like it was ever my decision in the first place,” he defended, looking to Master Splinter for support and causing the others to follow his gaze.

Master Splinter was quiet, a hand held near his chin in thought until he saw his sons looking to him for direction. “Hmm. It has been some time since we’ve explored the option. Perhaps there would be some merit in considering it once more,” he admitted.

“HA!” Raphael burst, turning to slap Don’s raised hands with his own. It seemed Don was more excited for Raphael after the comments than for himself, but he was still grinning.

Leo on the other hand had a dropped jaw before he picked it up to protest. “Master Splinter! You can’t be serious- they’re not ready!” he scrambled, only able to fall back on the complaints from his childhood since it had been that long ago when the topic was last addressed.

To everyone’s surprise though, it wasn’t Master Splinter that responded.

“No one is,” Raph spoke up with a tone somewhere between amused and incredulous. It caused the others to fall silent and turn to stare at him, prompting him to repeat himself and elaborate. “No one is ever ready to be a leader. Sometimes you just have to, and sometimes you get to learn from others and have backup. But no one is just born a leader. They become one.”

The comments were enough to earn complete silence from everyone in the room now, April’s achievement of securing victory against Leon going uncelebrated as they ended up looking to Raph along with their hosts. And this time Master Splinter remained quiet, allowing someone else to speak reason for once.

It was enough motivation for Raph to continue again, looking over to Leo with a slight grin. “You and I were leaders because we had to be. We’re the big brothers, and we gotta keep the others safe. But I bet you weren’t ready for it either.”

Leo found he couldn’t answer immediately. A rare moment, especially since even Raphael didn’t have a snarky comment or jab. But eventually he let out a slow breath and rested his arms on the back of the couch once more. “....Yeah…. You’re right,” he admitted with a bit of reluctance. He had been the most capable and responsible of the four of them, but that hadn’t meant he was ready to be a good leader. And he’d already had many times where he’d berated himself for his own mistakes in the role.

Raph just grinned, proud to have guessed right. “It’s scary at first to let someone else lead. But it’s actually kind of nice to sit on the sidelines sometimes, and see all the cool stuff your lil brothers can do. Like saving the world from aliens and stuff.”

The comments earned a little more stillness from Leo, marveling at how hearing it from someone else who had apparently been in a very similar situation to him was happy about the change. He followed Raph’s gaze to Leon when he mentioned saving the world from aliens, and as Leon gave a rather embarrassed smile and shrug back Leo could only think of Don and the Triceratons. Mikey and Kluh. And Raphael being there for all of them during everything. He didn’t have a response, but the quiet was long enough for Don to make a correcting comment to dispel his discomfort with the quiet.

“...We’re actually all the same age,” Don pointed out in a mild hush, earning a snicker from Raphael. Of course Don would have to make sure the correct facts were known. But what they didn’t expect was for Lil Mikey to respond after a few connections were made in his own mind because of that fact.

“You guys are quadruplets and can’t even ninja mind meld?!”

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Previous

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Hhhhhh please excuse any clunkiness int eh writing. I had thoughts but stringing them together this time was hard. Which also resulted in this being twice as long as I usually do

#my art #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #cross dimension kidnapping #rise + 2003 crossover #fanfic #writing #long post #Leo #April

[mingsolo]

take me home

For Seonghwa, another night, another opportunity to take off some of the stress of being famous— for you, a chance to turn a horrible night around.

seonghwa x reader (f) / angst, smut, idol au / warnings: one night stand, cursing, depictions of toxic friendships, alcohol mentions, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving) / wc: 8k — r: 21+

A/N: this is a work of fiction and do not depicts the real seonghwa or any public person mentioned on it. If it is familiar, it´s because this is a repost from my now deleted blog, with some small changes, enjoy!

Seonghwa lets out a loud and prolonged sigh. He ran his slender fingers softly through his perfectly styled hair and leaned his head against the backrest of the wide leather couch he’s sitting in. His eyes fluttered around the place, neon lights being the only source of light against the dim atmosphere. He bit his cheek, knowing it was a pity that he had to be in his private booth, this far from everybody.

He is bored, anxious.. “You are getting too picky” he muttered to himself, annoyed, because he knew that was bad for one of his biggest issues: timing.

His escapades to these lowkey night clubs were Seonghwa’s biggest source of freedom these days. He had it clear that if he got caught by some fan or reporter, his manager would take this from him, and the sole thought of being completely deprived of his freedom was depressing enough for him to give up entirely. A thing that he didn’t want to give in either. The comfort and status he had in the entire country and even in most parts of the world was a luxury he wasn’t ready to give up anytime soon.

Seonghwa knew he stopped being just a singer long ago — he was now marketable, a product. And as such, it was incredibly stressful having no time for himself, slave of the schedule imposed by the people who fill their pockets at the expense of his image, propense to be scolded like a child if he got caught having fun with someone else, probably his career ending in the process. These nights were the only thing that eased the weight around his shoulders.

So he tried to make them special every time, he wasn’t getting picky, he always was.

He crossed his legs, adjusting on his seat again, right hand holding his drink, the sounds of the ice cubes softly tapping against the glass relaxing him a little. From the level on the second floor, he watched the various silhouettes of people dancing, most of them intertwining bodies against each other, cheering and chanting loudly to the music. Taking another sip of his drink, he drifts his eyes to a group of people in the middle of the main dance floor. They were being loud, even surpassing the sounds over the music. Seonghwa scanned them quickly, sucking his teeth with impatience. He turned to the other side for a moment, when the sound of bottles crashing against the floor made him look back to the same group from before, clearly the signs of a fight about to happen. Seonghwa chuckled, at least someone was having some action tonight.

He kept looking at the scene amused for a few moments, watching how a man pushed another with such force, making him fly over a table to the right side of the bunch of people now onlooking the show. The guy knocked the table, spilling whatever drink was on top of it all over the person occupying the seat. The person jumped, a girl, bringing her hands to her mouth, scolding a scream.

You.

Seonghwa watched you attentively. The corners of his mouth slowly formed into a smile, eyes sparkling at the sight of you trying to push the man who was trying to hold onto you to get up. Like a lost lamb in the middle of the mountains, Seonghwa thought, your head looking in all directions looking for someone. You were obviously new to the place, and whoever you were so anxiously looking for nowhere to be seen. He watched you hurriedly and clumsily walk away, probably trying to find the way to the restroom. Quickly he finished what was left of his glass, but before he could stand up, the shadow of a person getting closer made him stop.

“Hey,” A guy approached him, inviting himself to sit on his side, hovering over him. His breath was so strong that Seonghwa could feel himself getting dizzy just by having the guy breathing beside him. He politely offered him a nod, moving slightly to the opposite side. “Are you alone?” the guy said, brushing his sticky fingers over the collar of his jacket, brushing his skin.

Seonghwa groaned softly, irritated and uncomfortable at the intrusion. The man was obviously stupid drunk, smirking and looking at him with sleepish eyes. He noticed a group of people eavesdropping a couple of booths away from him, and he got even more tense and irritated.

“I’m not interested.” He said calmly but firmly. The thought of someone noticing him and somehow making a rumor out of it always in the back of his mind. The man leaned closer, the stains of spilled drink on his half unbuttoned shirt invading his personal space.

“Come on, I don't bite,” he murmured. Seonghwa’s handsome features grin in disgust. With the corner of his eyes he looked down where the commotion was a few moments ago, hoping you had returned to your spot after cleaning yourself up. “I’m right here, pretty one” the man touched his jaw, making him look back at him.

“Fuck off,” Seonghwa groaned sitting straight, practically shoving the man off his face. The man scoffed, finishing his drink and leaving his empty glass on the table before standing up.

“Think you’re hot shit.” He cursed at him before leaving.

Seonghwa breathed out, rolling his eyes and standing up, walking far from the group of people the guy was returning to.

Quickly, his eyes were back at the area where he saw you before. A restrained smile drew on his lips, seeing you were back at your seat. Your hands playing with the strands of your purse, feet trampled over your heels. He could tell you were anxious and uncomfortable. No signs of the guys that knocked the table and made a mess out of your dress just you sitting there looking awkwardly over your shoulder to the people grinding against each other. You looked so out of place. To Seonghwa that was perfect, almost endearing.

.

.

.

On your seat, you start to feel dizzy. The first two tequila shots your friend Chae practically poured on you as soon as you got here were feeling heavy on your stomach. The scent of alcohol, sweat and who knows what else around you made you feel nauseous. You needed to go outside soon or you would end up making even more of a mess of yourself right there in front of everyone.

With impatient eyes you tried to find Chae over the crowd around you. Sadly, she had come to the club with intention, and that was to get back with her ex. Even when she found out he had come with another girl, still spent most of the night around him, completely forgetting about you. To your bad luck, you couldn’t leave on your own, since you had just moved to the city and had nowhere to go besides her apartment, bound to wait until she had finished her business.

Anxiety mixed with the acids on your stomach and the heat of the bodies and energy of the people around you were becoming too much, so you decided to go outside on your own for a moment. Completely lost looking for the main entrance, you found Chae, grinding against her ex boyfriend’s pelvis. You tried to call for her but your voice was muffled by the loud chatting and music, and she seemed to pay no attention to anything else but letting her ex touch her everywhere.

You felt hurt and disappointed. Still, you tried to get her attention, mostly wanting to prevent her from making the mistake of hooking up with him, knowing how badly he had treated her. As you tried to push people away and get closer, you suddenly lost sight of them, now trapped in the middle of a bunch of guys chanting and trying to get you to dance with them. Freaking out, you sprint in the opposite direction, barely getting away from the men now whistling and yelling obscenities.

Resigned to look for Chae after you had taken some fresh air, you continued looking for the main entrance. Soon you found a way down the stairs on the second floor. Walking down the steps you got to a metal door, a red exit sign above it. But as soon as you pushed it open you instantly knew it wasn’t a good idea.

Outside this side of the club was a dangerously looking alley, pitch dark, with a few cars around that looked almost abandoned. The only source of light was the neon sign of the club, Fireworks, just a few letters still working, too dim to light anything properly. You close the door, walking back upstairs. You didn’t know the area, so it was better not to venture alone, even to get a minute of fresh air.

The air on the stairs was cool enough, the ventilation coming from the ceiling and the absence of people helped to ease the insufferable heat from inside, so you decided to rest a little there, before heading back.

You sat on one of the steps almost at the top of the stairs, and stood still for a few minutes, fingers playing with the hem of your dress. It was still wet, the smell of vodka strong enough to make you feel nauseous again. Blowing the strands of hair from your forehead you looked up at the ceiling, almost blinding yourself because of the intense light of the led lamp that flickered above you.

Your first night out since coming to the city, and it couldn't be worse. You regret coming along with Chae, now confused as to why she even invited you if she pretended to spend the whole night embarrassing herself trying to get her ex back. What if she ended up forgetting about you and going home with him alone?. Your chest tightened. You shook your head, unable to let that thought go any further.

Swallowing a lump you hugged yourself trying to find some comfort in your own warmth, gathering strength to get back inside and look for Chae and beg her to take you back, or miraculously convince her to give you her exact address and keys for you to call a taxi. You called, texted but the messages were not read. Defeated you finally you stood up and decided to go back inside before she decided to leave you there for real.

Without lifting your eyes from your phone waiting for Chae’s response you walked back from where you came from, when you bumped into someone walking in front of you.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” you apologized, looking up, finding a young man in front of you. To say he was handsome was an understatement. His features were soft yet manly, plump lips with a soft smile on them as he bowed slightly accepting your apology. His hair was slicked to the back, showing a stylish undercut.

“It’s fine, I was distracted and didn’t notice you either.” He smiled again. With a little nod from his head you noticed a dangling earring strung from his left ear, the cross shape wagging softly.

He moved slightly aside to let you pass but you didn’t move. As if you were suddenly starstruck, you couldn’t move and your heart started thumping against your chest so loud you swear he could hear it. When you didn’t speak or move, he continued.

“I��m looking for the exit, is this the right way?” He asked, pointing out the way down the stairs from where you came from. The tone of his voice was low, but also calm and soft, you could swear you have heard it somewhere.

“Uh… yes. I mean no! it leads to the backstreet alleys I think.”

You felt embarrassed finding yourself stuttering in front of him. Still, there was some familiarity on his voice and face but you just couldn’t make it up where from. He nodded and with his hand motioned to let you go first.

As you walk past him, your hands squeeze your bag to ease the nerves, the shadow of his silhouette ghosting behind you. After a few steps you realized you were not going anywhere really, so you stopped, smiling nervously. “Uhm, actually I was also looking for the exit, so…”

“Oh, perhaps we could look for it together?, If you are okay with that of course.” His honey-like voice is soft but clear, even slightly muffled by the boisterous music. You could see his feline eyes glowing under the dim lights. A sparkle on them even.

“Yeah! It's fine.” You tried to sound relaxed, like it was no big deal, but you were sure your tone came up excited, jolted. Get off your cloud, he’s just being polite, you thought trying not to think he was somehow trying to initiate conversation with you.

Just like that he started walking comfortably beside you, his eyes looking up front. He was dressed casually in black pants and a light dark jacket half way opened, giving a good view of his chest. As casual as the outfit was you could tell the clothing was pricey. A couple of necklaces hung from his neck matching the expensive looking watch on his wrist. He was surely wealthy, it was obvious not only on his clothing but in the way he carried himself and the aura around him.

“I’m Seonghwa by the way,” he said suddenly as you went down to the first floor. Seonghwa, you definitely have heard that name before. “Can I know yours?.” He asked, brushing off your thoughts.

“Huh, Y/n.” your response came out so quick that made your voice sound wavered, and you could feel the blood rush running to your head. You told yourself to calm down.

“Cute name.” He smiled again and you swore you were staring too much.

Just before you were about to make an embarrassing comment in response, you heard a familiar voice coming from one booth right at the foot of the stairs, where you and Seonghwa were heading. Squinting you could distinguish Chae, mouth shoved against his ex's. Both entangled in a heated, and sloppy make out session.

“Oh no!,” you ran towards her, trying to get her attention. “Chae!, Chae please…” you called, still trying to keep your cool in front of Seonghwa, who looked at the scene with a calm expression.

“What, Y/n?” Chae whined, leaving his ex’s lips for a moment, while his hands went under the hem of her dress shamelessly. “Thought you had gone already.”

“Chae, don’t do that here!” your voice supplicant and ashamed at the same time. You felt guilty for worrying about what Seonghwa would think of you almost as much as trying to stop Chae from messing up with her ex, but to be fair, it was already too late to prevent the latter.

“I told you I was going to be busy,” Chae pushed his ex off, taking his hand instead and leading him upstairs. “Just leave already k’? Oh, and book a hotel room or something, I won’t be coming home tonight!” She said giggling, as the man pecking on her neck began kissing and touching her everywhere again as they went up.

You sighed out loud, watching your friend disappear on the second level. Ashamed, you offered Seonghwa a weak smile, as he approached you slowly.

“Are you okay?”. Your eyes met him again. Your silence answering his question. “That kind of night, huh?” He smiled at you sweetly.

“Well, yeah.” you accepted, depleting yourself on the nearest seat. “That was my poor attempt to prevent my friend from screwing up with her ex, but alas.”

“Hmm, yeah I would say there’s no stopping that,” Seonghwa sat down beside you, his thigh nearly brushing yours. You inhaled deeply, forcing yourself to stay calm. “But hey it isn’t your fault

“So, that was your friend?.”

You blink at him, nodding your head in reply. Having him so close after being embarrassed like that was limiting your way with words. You clenched your fist and forced your eyes close trying to suppress a tear fighting to come out. You weren't sure if it was because of Chae’s attitude, or you wanted to appear vulnerable to the stranger beside you, probably both.

Seonghwa smiled again, innocent and sweet, and he looked so beautiful. He had to be aware of how attractive he was, and that he was making you nervous, there was no way he shouldn’t. And you wondered, after the shameful scene from moments ago, you were sure anyone else would have just left without even saying goodbye. But now he smiled at you, sitting beside you.

“Don’t be sad about that, drunk people say dumb shit.” He comforted you. His eyes were locked on yours as you lifted your eyes to meet his, and you saw that sparkle shining even more than before. “You’re too pretty, I would hate to see you crying.”

You let out a nervous giggle. “I’m sorry, but me?”

“Of course you, I don’t see why you would think otherwise.”

You wouldn’t consider yourself unattractive, but unable to fully believe him, you shook your head assuming he was just being sweet to make you feel better, but he looked at you with a serious expression, eyes not moving from your face. “Sorry, I’m not used to people saying that about me.”

“That’s hard to believe,” Seonghwa arched his eyebrows, lips slightly pouting.

“Seriously, have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” you tried to ease your nerves joking about how stupidly gorgeous he was, but he seemed to pay no mind. “How pretty can I be compared to you?”

“A thousand times more.” He answered simply.

An unusual warmth rolled down your chest, your jaw tightened and you could feel the heat of the place and your own body temperature going up. You looked down, focusing your eyes on the floor trying to avoid eye contact with him. The words he just said spinning around your head.

“Thanks, you are really sweet, though I really need to get out to get some fresh air,” the temperature seems to go up with each second.

“We still haven’t found the exit,” he replied with a playful smirk. “Want to join me still?.”

You nodded, and Seonghwa helped you stand up, taking your hand guiding you through the back of the club, avoiding all the people. You were still flustered about his words, but noticed he knew exactly how to get to the exit, and not even the main door, but one hidden from everyone’s reach, between the VIP lounges.

He’s familiar with this place, you thought, of course he were.

.

.

.

A few moments later you were outside, the cool breeze night crushed against your bare arms and legs, making its way under the skirt of your dress, and you inhaled deeply, filling your lungs until you were satisfied.

Seonghwa repressed a smile behind you, watching you close your eyes and extend your arms in the breeze against your skin.

So innocent, so untainted.

Seonghwa could tell this night would be so much fun. If you allowed him, and of course you would, he would treat you so well. Make you forget about the bad taste you just had, remember anything but his name. As you turned to face him after having cooled yourself off, he imagined how you would look under him, crying out his name, begging him for more.

“Feeling better?”

“Yes! Very much.” you smiled at him, and immediately looked away. “Huh, well, you surely have somewhere to go, and I need to look for a place to st-…”

“You could stay with me a little longer,” He suggested. “If you’d like, of course.”

You smiled nervously. You weren’t actually that naive, if he was asking you to spend more time with him, at this time of the night, you being alone and not knowing you didn’t have a place to spend the night, you knew what he meant.

So you looked at your options: on one hand you had nowhere to go, and didn’t want to wander around at this hour alone. On the other— even if he was unbelievably attractive, you just had met him.

“Let’s do this. I’ll give you a ride around until we find a place you choose to stay. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I let you walk alone this late, please?.” Seonghwa pouted so sweetly, and you felt that familiarity about him again, but couldn’t quite know why.

After a moment you gave in, following him to the club’s parking lot to his car. Truth was you were drawn to him, no other guy you’ve met before looked remotely like him, and honestly you didn’t hate the idea of spending more time with him. Now in the passenger seat of a ridiculously expensive car, the situation is even more unbelievable to you. Handsome, sweet, considerate and rich? It was too good to be true.

Along the way he suggested a couple of places, but they looked too expensive and you refused his offer of paying for your night, not having enough money to pay for them yourself. Some time into the ride, you could see the sky getting cloudy, the air getting colder. Little drops of rain started to crash against the car’s front window, and soon rain was loudly pouring over.

Just like that, with the excuse of the rain, Seonghwa and you drove aimlessly for about an hour, he listened attentively to your tragic story since you came to live in the city alongside your not so good friend Chaehyeon, and he was joking trying to make you feel better. His charm was so natural and he seemed to be enjoying his time with you as much as you did. Even his small talk made you feel comfortable, soon easing your anxious mood, making you feel relieved to have accepted his company.

Being inside his car so close to him, you could smell his scent, and you had never taken in something more delicious. It was quick that you felt unable to resist getting closer. Maybe it was the aroma of his perfume, the atmosphere thanks to the rain falling down, tapping the top of the car, making the night feel even more surreal, but you started to wish for him to ask you to really spend the night over.

Was this moment real? The night had been the worst so far until Seonghwa showed up, making you feel relaxed, beautiful, and wanted. Him, being as attractive, charismatic, decided to stay by your side. It wasn’t that you were dumb enough you will be seeing him again after this night, but the feeling in your gut was stronger than your sense of realism. You wished for one time in your life, to do what you wanted to do without expecting some sort of consequence after. It was about time for you to have an exciting experience.

“Y/n?,” His voice broke again your train of thoughts. He had just leaned to the side of the street. “Tell me what you are thinking about?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, mustering all the confidence you could gather up. What came from your lips next was surprisingly clear, even to you. So much that you didn’t even recognize your own voice. “Can you take me to your place tonight?.”

Seonghwa’s face focused on you, eyes hovering over your lips. The sparkle from back at the club back into his eyes, like in slow motion, you could notice his chest heaved rapidly with heavy panting.

He was looking at you with an enamored expression, and even if you knew it was just the rush of knowing he would be taking you home tonight, it felt lovingly, everlasting. Hearing you say those words just like that was music to his ears. Your chest feels smaller all of the sudden. You were about to apologize to him, as he didn’t say anything. Then the world stopped, as he leaned closer to you, brushing his lips over yours.

“Yes, thought you’d never ask.”

The red light turned green, brushing his lips on you a little longer before turning the engine back on. The expensive car was running smoothly as if it was floating, so fast that the city lights around you became blurry, seemingly following behind you.

.

.

.

The ride to Seonghwa’s place was not long, he was driving fast, not too fast to make you worried about your safety, but fast enough to get there as soon as possible. He didn’t say another word, his eyes locked on the road, grip firmly holding the seething wheel.

Soon he was entering the valet area of a huge department complex. The building was so tall that it rose higher than your eyes could see more so thanks to the cloudy sky. Seonghwa took a u-turn as if to leave the place, but instead entered a basement parking area you didn’t see when you arrived.

Seonghwa twisted the car keys, turning it off when he had found the parking spot of his choice. You noticed this area was almost empty with just a couple of fancy looking cars a few spots to your right. You were looking at them when you could feel Seonghwa’s hand brushing your knee, making its way up, softly playing with the hem of your dress. The sudden touch makes you shiver.

“You know what happens, right? The moment you enter with me?,” His tone was barely a whisper, but deep enough to make you listen clearly. “You know what I will do to you?.”

For a couple of seconds you froze in place, looking at him straight in the eyes, watching them shine bright as the silver hanging from his neck. “I know.” you smiled softly.

Once outside the car, as he led you to the elevator, his fingers intertwined with yours, your heart was beating so fast that you swore it would come out of your chest at any moment. He let you enter the elevator first, walking behind you, same as when he opened his apartment door, closing it behind him the moment both were inside.

Just a couple of steps into the room and you were unexpectedly grabbed by the waist, Seonghwa’s hands roaming over the fabric of your dress, feeling the shape of your hips, he brushed his fingertips softly, then he grabbed your ass, squeezing it tightly in contrast. He buried his face on your neck, pecking over it softly. You could feel every inhale of his breath, hot and steady.

He kept walking without letting go of you, throwing his keys and doing the same with your purse as he pushed you with his hips into the room. With a quick movement he turned you to face him pushing you against the nearest wall. He grabbed your neck with both his hands holding it as he leaned down to kiss you. The soft brush from before was just a taste, now he was kissing you intensely, hungrily. Slowly lurching and sucking, one long kiss after another, only breaking apart to get some air.

You could feel your lips burning, the same sensation slowly gathering between your legs, making you feel a warmth that seemed so unfamiliar to you. He was only kissing you and you could feel your walls clenching, your underwear already wet. You tried to contain yourself but when he took your bottom lip between his teeth, biting it playfully, you could feel your legs giving up, making you stumble on your feet.

Seonghwa grabs you by the waist, trying not to make you fall. Your little display of weakness makes him smile brightly over your lips. He then leans, trying to take your lips in again but you stop him. With a palm over his chest, you take in a clear view of his features, feline eyes fixated on you, his pupils dilating, waiting.

Time seemed to be running slowly as you two stood up watching each other attentively. You closed your eyes, one hand taking the back of Seonghwa’s neck, slightly pushing him to kiss you again, he watched you as you did, until his lips touched yours again and he closed his eyes with you. Your hand seamlessly travels down from his neck to his back and then up front to his chest, feeling his firm form over the soft fabric of his vest.

You could feel your lips swollen already, his kisses feeling so deep and last longing. When he breaks the kiss to take some breath again, you take the chance to see his plump lips also puffy and slick, coated with your lipstick.

Seonghwa admits you awoke something in him. He sensed the awareness yet innocence, knowing he would fuck you tonight and probably be gone by the morning, yet you wanted that, you needed that. And that was exactly what he had in mind.

In fact, he craved that innocence and he wanted to indulge in you. He rarely felt anything but lust about the people he usually brought to this place. Most of them were incredibly boring, never shutting up about how they loved him , how they could make him feel so good , only managing to annoy him by how hard they tried. They were people he often used for release, to make himself feel greater about what he meant to them, and not otherwise.

You, on the contrary, seemed to not know who he was, and unbeknownst to himself, made the challenge of making you fall for him special.

Seonghwa took your hand and guided you to a room to the left, once inside he grabbed you by the waist, kissing you sloppily and hurriedly, before pushing you over the bed. He flashed a smirk reacting to you gasping for the sudden push and watched you grip the bed sheets, trying to get something to hold onto.

He started by unbuttoning his jacket quickly, confirming your suspicions that he wasn’t wearing a shirt under it at all. After that he crept forward to you, taking your shoes off and doing the same with his. When that was out the way he wasted no time, pushing your legs apart with his knee, now his full body on top of yours. Your lips pressed together, eyes shut tight. “Look at me.”

You opened your eyes to see him hovering over you, his fingers caressing the skin between your neck and chest. With his fingers he pushed your dress down, exposing more of your cleavage and he brushed the soft skin of what was out of your breast, your bra pushing them up was extremely sensual to him.

“I want you to see what I do to you, don’t hide away from me,” Seonghwa huffed, leaving a soft peck on the exposed skin of your chest. “You can touch me as well, don’t hold on, it’s okay.” The thin straps of your dress fell down over your shoulders, and Seonghwa cursed under his breath. He needed to rip that off you soon, but he decided to wait.

Lying there, watching his naked torso glow against the faint lights provided only by the lamps hidden on the ceiling, you placed both your hands over his chest, tracing delicate touches all over. You wanted to feel each of his muscles, the pads of your fingers taking in the warmth of his slim but toned body. You could feel Seonghwa’s breath pulsing every time you stopped on his abs or chest, like studying his form meticulously. You were clueless to the effect this had on him, not knowing how much he enjoyed being worshiped, desired.

As you touched him, now kissing every part you found especially beautiful, you could feel your skin burning where Seonghwa was squeezing you over, your thighs were sure to be left all bruised. Unable to hold on more, his hands went back to your chest, now pulling down the straps of your dress, all the way down until it was out on the floor.

He moved from over you slightly to take a good look of your form, how your push up bra concealed your breasts, looking like that was painful to you, but he loved the view. You went to put a hand over them, the usual insecurity hitting in by being suddenly so exposed to someone, but he stopped your hand by taking your wrist gently. “No hiding. You are beautiful.”

He sounded so sincere and loving, that you decided to believe him. You knew you weren’t the first person he said those words to, you knew you wouldn’t be the last. Even so, in this moment they were meant for you and you only, and that was enough to believe him.

Next, his lips went over to your neck, his tongue pressed against your throat sending shivers to your whole body. He smoothly slipped his hands behind your back, masterfully unclipping your bra and tossing it to the side without looking. Now with your chest completely exposed, he massaged your breasts first with his thumbs, then his tongue. He took sweet time kissing them until they were fully coated with his saliva, seemingly unable to stop savoring them, and it was driving you crazy. You didn’t want to think what was going to be of you when this was over.

After he was done with your breast his mouth continued his way below your waistline, surely leaving bruises every time he bit your skin where his lips landed. You couldn’t keep quiet, moaning at every single one of his licks and kisses, making him smile as he pressed his lips onto your sensible spots. Seonghwa softly chuckled hearing your cries of pleasure and God it was driving you insane.

You couldn’t hold on anymore and one of your hands was to look for the waistband of his pants, trying to push them down. “Please…” you whined.

“Please what?,”

“I want you.” your voice sounded desperate, needy.

He ignored you and pressed his lips now on your thighs, kissing them both over and over, trading you with soft brushes of his fingers over your clothed clit, soaking wet already. He wanted to fuck you already but he needed to hear more begging first.

You couldn’t bear the burning sensation between your legs any longer, trying to rub them together desperate for some friction. Seonghwa forcefully spread them apart, and continued to suck on each side of them, your cunt tightening with each passing second.

“Seonghwa, please …”

The sound of your lips moaning his name makes him jolt with excitement. He went up and leaned over you to watch you once more. Your breast and lips swollen, flushed skin and drowsy eyes looking at him, pleading him to be inside you. You looked so intoxicating.

Seonghwa couldn’t help but groan. A few minutes of kisses and some touches and you were already so needy for him. He could feel yourself trembling underneath him, making him proud of his decision of choosing you for this night. Now he needed to make sure that you would never forget the things he’ll do to you.

“So pretty.” He purred into your ear, brushing his nose over your cheek. His tongue then licked your lips softly, making his way into your mouth again. Your eyes instinctively close, letting yourself be devoured. You felt his hand travel down, brushing against your stomach as he started to remove his belt, the sound of the metal teasingly making you more desperate. “Close your eyes.” He ordered.

You whined at the feeling of him getting off of you, but it was instantly rewarded by the burning of his bare skin touching yours as he leaned over you again, now evidently completely naked. He warned you about opening your eyes until he said so, so you shut them down, your other senses widening.

You could feel hot breath over your knees and you knew he was about to make his way between your thighs again. It was still shocking when he spread your legs open, and you felt his breath against your cunt, so close you could feel the warmth of his mouth on you. You knew that after tonight it will be hard not to compare him to anyone else and that made you feel uneasy. The thought of never having anyone who could make you forget about what he was doing to you. His scent, his voice, everything about him was unbelievable and even right now, with him practically ripping your underwear apart, you still thought you were dreaming.

Once he got rid of the lacy cloth between his tongue and your core, he coaxed your entrance with soft pecks and you mumbled out his name again, breathing heavily each time you did so. “Open your eyes.” his deep tone resonated over your whimpers, and you did as told. You watched him just stare down, sharp eyes admiring your most intimate spot. You didn’t want to hide anymore, instead becoming proud of the lust that shone on his eyes.

“You’re soaked.” he said calmly, and a second after he made you yelp by the sudden touch of his tongue running along the surface of your clit. While he flicked his tongue inside you, he mumbled some words you couldn’t make up, the vibrations feeling heavenly over your drenched cunt.

Your legs were shaking from the pleasure. His large hands gripped your ass as he ate you out with urgency, making unholy sounds that you were sure would pop into your brain at the most unexpected moments. If he continued like this you could come at any moment, only holding back by the desire of having him inside you.

“Please… I want you,”

Seonghwa looked up at the sound of your crying. He was also ready, but he needed to taste you a little more before giving you what you wanted. He slowly rose on top of you again, giving you an open mouth kiss letting you know how you tasted. Your whining and pleading was music to his ears and the way you said his name fueled him with power. He was so hard you could feel his length pressing against your stomach, hot and thick, waiting for you to touch it.

Without thinking about it your hand moved down and your fingers wrapped around him. Seonghwa clenched his teeth, trying to repress a moan but he just barely managed to contain it. He kissed you again as you pumped his length steadily. Now it was his turn to be surprised, as you adjusted your position so his cock could greet your entrance, brushing his tip over your silky clit and pushing it inside firmly.

“Fuck….” He cursed, letting himself enter your walls in a single motion, covering his cock in your wetness. You bite your lip so hard that you feel a soft burn over them, probably hurting yourself, but that just added to the sensation of intense pleasure that you were experiencing. “So fucking tight,” He moaned, licking his bottom lip and locking his eyes on yours.

The bed rocked loudly with each time he pushed inside you. You tried to adjust yourself to the position, but a loud cry came out when Seonghwa gripped your thighs, spreading them even more and burying himself deeper.

“So perfect,” He mumbled to himself, head spinning at the intensity of what he was feeling. “Is as if you were made for me to be inside you.” He dragged his words, eyes dropping as he fucked you hard and fast. He never stopped looking at you, how you were unable to keep your eyes open, how you gripped the pillows around you looking for some kind of support.

Laying underneath him, feeling his skin crash against yours, his previously styled hair now falling over his forehead, sweat beads rolling down his neck, it was all too surreal. And the fact that he looked at you like he adored you. That made your blood rush violently to your head, making you dizzy.

Seonghwa admired his shadow casting over your body, making the rest of your skin glow. It looked like a painting. You trembled listening to his controlled moans, and he jolted everytime you whimpered out his name.

As he rocked his hips, at times pulling out entirely only to smash into you again, he could feel your walls clenching around him, trying hard not to come undone and wait until both of you were close. Your kindness towards his own pleasure made him feel even more attracted to you, his desire to pleasure you beyond expectation grew even harder. He also loved the noises you made, even if you tried to restrain yourself, you sounded so pure and innocent. He wondered when it was the last time someone had you like this, hoping you were really never being fucked like this before.

Seonghwa wasn’t trying to make himself feel better about using you to satisfy his own needs, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to make you feel beautiful and desired too, you were too precious not to.

“Fuck, Seonghwa…” you moaned. He smiled against your lips, brushing his tongue over them. His hand then went down to your clit, motioning circles with his thumb, making you arch your back and firmly grab his arms, probably scratching them. He groaned at the pain, and told you to dig your nails even harder. You stopped thinking, digging them harder over his back, your head buried against his neck. He groaned loudly and your breath became heavier with him buried inside you mixed with the rubbing of your clit, impossible to contain your pleasure.

“Just like that,” he growled, “Let me hear you say my name over and over.”

You cursed out loud, muttering his name again and he reacted so loudly every time you did. Your sweat mixed with his felt incredibly intimate and you couldn’t dare to break apart from him. The familiar knot twisting and twirling on your low abdomen growing intensely. His name was the only thing you could say, forcing yourself to wait until he came with you, wanting to feel him spill inside you, as lustful as it sounded, you wanted to feel that, to feel him.

Everything became too much when Seonghwa took your legs, lifting them and throwing them over his shoulders, adjusting himself even deeper. You cursed at him, mostly because he was pushing you over the edge and you needed to let go sooner. He then grabbed your hair with his fist from the back, it hurted but you loved every second of it. For the brief seconds you could keep your eyes open, you see his face glowing, a devilish smile on his face enjoying the pain and pleasure he was giving you.

“Now you are getting close, fucking scream my name and I let go,” His voice was dark and eager, wanting you to come just when he told you to.

White dots flashing as you closed your eyes and rolled your hips to help you ride your release, too focused on the pleasure of the moment to notice Seonghwa had also come with you, filling you up to the brim, thick cum spilling out of you even if he wasn’t stopping.

As he slowly came down from his own high, Seonghwa carefully pulled out of you, letting you lean against the bed sheets, covered in sweat. You could see his skin shining, sweat covering him up entirely. He watched as you tried to incorporate and sit on the bed, feeling uneasy trying to somehow cover up the mess.

“Leave that, we’re not done” The words barely rolled out his mouth due to the tiredness. He pushed his drenched hair to the back, his chest swelling with each inhale.

“Seonghwa,” you mumbled, and he pushed the stay hairs off your face, leaning to kiss you again.

Next, you were on top of him, kissing him deeply, tongue buried inside his mouth exploring every inch, knowing after tonight you wouldn’t have the chance to do it again. In just a few minutes he was hard enough again to lead you on top of him, and just as fast your hips rocked back and forth with him buried deep inside you, the headboard of the bed hitting the walls loudly. Seonghwa looked at you as you rode him with half opened eyes, unable to believe this was the same girl that hours ago had her clothes completely ruined, looking totally out of place in the middle of the night club.

Seonghwa’s fingers were pressed against your hips, keeping you in place, guiding your pacing with his hands, helping you both reach your second release. “Come for me again, and say my name as you do.”

His words were not a request but an order, and you obeyed gracefully.

He pushed his cock even more and you cried his name loudly. As you ride your orgasm, your ears meet a heavy whimper and Seonghwa leans forward to you, his forehead pressing yours, he clenches his teeth, feeling your sweet release flowing down on him, the same time as his pulsing cock covers your walls entirely once more. He breaks the closeness to look down where your bodies are intertwined, pulling out and seeing his cum drip out of you again, and he wished he could have that sight every day from now on.

He’s trying hard to let go of the reality that will hit you both the next day.

“So fucking gorgeous,” He managed to say between heavy breathing. Your arms around his shoulders preventing you from falling to the side, his hands grabbing your waist, fingernails still pressing your skin, the touch burning.

He offers you a hand to help you sit up. You smiled shyly, taking it while having trouble standing up by yourself, and Seonghwa giggled.

“Come to shower with me?”

“Oh, Yeah, sure” you smile back, leaning to kiss him again.

“You are too adorable,” He smiled against your lips, guiding you to the bathroom, hugging you from behind.

Once inside the shower booth, twice as big as your whole bathroom back home, Seonghwa told you he will take care of you, not letting you even wash your own hair, instead scrubbing every part delicately. He washed your legs first, going up from there and taking time to rub the soap between your legs, making your knees weak all over. He shampooed your hair and massaged it, and you did the same with his. After you were clean, it was his turn, rubbing body wash into your palms you cleaned him entirely. Seonghwa’s eyes were closed while you did so, enjoying the softness of the sponge and your hands against his skin.

As you cleaned him up, your mind raced a thousand miles per hour. The image of Seonghwa sweaty on top of you, fucking you— was something you would never forget, you were sure of it. Now, after it has already happened, the uncertainty of what was next crept inside you, nerves and anxiety hitting you again.

“Seonghwa…” you said awkwardly as you two stepped out of the shower.

“Yes, angel?” Seonghwa reached for a towel for you, and took another for himself, drying his hair and body with quick pacing. You didn’t speak and he tossed his towel aside, getting closer to you. “You're thinking too much, you're still here with me, aren’t you?” He smirked, taking your towel and beginning to dry you up.

“Yeah, I am.” you closed your eyes, hugging him and kissing him deeply one more time, and many times through the night.

.

.

.

Hours later, minutes before sunrise, Seonghwa got up, dressed and called to order some clothes so you could change when you woke up. He made a special request for a similar dress as the one you had before, the staff were pretty familiar with his demands, so they proceeded to make the arrangements quickly.

He looked at his phone annoyed at the several missed calls from his manager, already exhausted about his packed schedule for the next hours. Just before leaving for his actual apartment, he looked at you for the last time, watching you sleep peacefully. The white bed sheets covered just half of your body, and he hesitated— wanting to leave a note, his number, something. Longing already to see you again knowing it was better not to.

“Don’t be stupid” he muttered to himself.

He stood up, standing, hesitating for a moment, before walking to the door without looking back.

.

.

.

When you open your eyes, you get blinded by the bright sunlight coming through the white curtains hanging up from the ceiling to the floor. You incorporate slightly, your whole body aching, and you smile, hopeful. Slowly you turn around to the other side of the bed, you shut your eyes tight, hoping to open them and find him lying still asleep next to you.

You smile, now dryly, to the empty side of the bed. You knew, yet still hurt.

Painfully, you stood up from the bed, going to the bathroom first, performing the usual morning rituals. After that you look up for your clothes on the floor, finding nothing. With the linen bed sheet wrapped around your body, you walk into the living room finding a rack of clean clothes in the living area.

You looked for a note but there was none. The clothes were casual and simple, but expensive. Some underwear, a couple of pants, some shirts and a dress, very similar to the one you were wearing before. You changed into a t-shirt and pants, and took the dress, folding it and keeping it in your bag, it was similar to the one you were wearing, a gift.

Just before you left the upscale room, you turned to look at it for the last time, feeling dumb and over-dramatic doing so. You pictured him there with you as it just happened not long ago and you felt your chest tighten.

“you're still here with me, aren’t you?”

“He did say it, didn’t he?”, you muttered to yourself, just as you walked out, closing the door behind you.

©mingsolo / please do not repost or translate to any other sites.

#seonghwa smut #kvanity #cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #wkcnet #ateez smut #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa angst #ateez fanfic #fic tag #my fic #seonghwa #smut #angst #oneshot #repost

[wzrd-wheezes]

Game On - Sirius Black x Reader Smut

Request: what do you think of established relationship sirius black x fem!reader edging + desperate banging (maybe overstimulation done by who u choose to be the one that snaps first as a sort of “punishment” even tho they’re both in this together 💀)

sirius and reader share the same braincells and are in a very lovey-dovey relationship but one day they feel bored and want to try adding a little ✨spice✨ into their relationship, so they come up with this plan to shake things up a bit: they get dressed up to look their best and go to a club/pub/etc where they flirt with other people while looking at each other till one of them snaps and drags the other to a bathroom or another secluded place and desperately go at it with each other

AN - one thing i love about you guys is that when i ask for smut requests, i know that you'll deliver!! Also, if you guys would like, i can write a part 2/ alternat ending where sirius loses the competition and ends up in the same situation as reader…?

Warnings: this starts off fine but by the end gets pretty filthy. Nothing too weird but -contains: light bondage, edging, slight overstimulation. 3.3k words

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Sirius asked as her zipped up his girlfriend’s dress. They were stood in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom, and he gazed at her reflection as he pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder. 

“I’m sure. It was my idea after all.” 

“I know. I’m just making sure.”  

They had been inseparable since their school days, the two of them practically joined at the hip. Yet, within the comfort of their connection, a desire for something new lingered. It was something that they had mulled over countless times, the idea of injecting some excitement into their relationship. When Y/N mentioned the idea, Sirius readily agreed.  

The agenda for the evening was a competition of sorts. They were going to head to one of the local bars, each of them going their separate ways upon arrival. It was a test of wills to see who would crack with jealously as they both flirted and danced with strangers.  

“You’re going down, Black.” Y/N smiled cheekily, pecking him on the lips as she grabbed her bag and headed to the door. 

“Game on.” he grinned.  

The bar that they had chosen was heaving. From the moment they entered, they were enveloped in a kaleidoscope of colours. Neon lights danced across the walls, casting vibrant hues of pink, purple and blue onto the mass of people dancing. The room itself wasn’t very big, a bar lined one wall, and a large dancefloor took centre stage, tall tables filled the space in between. It was large enough so that Y/N and Sirius could distance themselves, but small enough that they could constantly keep an eye on each other.  

They both headed towards the bar, eager to get a drink. Sirius went to one end, Y/N to the other. Y/N slipped onto one of the tall bar stools, resting her chin in her hand as she waited for the bartender to come and take her order. 

“What can I get for you, gorgeous?” the bartender asked, leaning forward slightly. Caught off guard, Y/N felt a faint flush creep onto her cheeks. 

“Surprise me.” she replied playfully. 

His grin widened at her response as he accepted the challenge. With practiced ease, he made her a cocktail, his hands moving gracefully as he poured and mixed with precision. As he slid the drink across the bar towards her, their fingers brushed briefly, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through her veins.  

Sirius was at the other end of the bar lounged against the polished surface; whisky glass perched in his ring clad fingers. His gaze swept across the crowded room planning his next move. As he sipped his drink, his attention was momentarily diverted to his girlfriend at the other side of the bar, engaged in animated conversation with the bartender. ‘Damn, she’s quick,’ he thought as a flicker of emotion crossed his features before he masked it with a playful grin, catching her eye and raising his glass in a silent toast. He quickly downed the rest of his drink before ordering another.  

It didn’t take long for him to find someone to flirt with, as he scanned the room he locked eyes with a girl sat alone at one of the tall tables towards the dance floor. Grabbing his drink, he made his way over. Sirius flashed a charming smile as he approached the girl, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Mind if I join you?” he had already pulled out the chair before giving her time to answer. 

“Depends,” the girl looked up, her eyes sparkling with amusement, “Are you planning on buying me a drink?”  

“Of course.” Sirius replied with a mock-indignant tone, “What’s your poison?”  

By the time Sirius headed back to the bar to buy their drinks, Y/N had already left. He glanced around for her, expecting her to be still chatting to the bartender, but she wasn’t there. Sirius frowned a little, scouring the bar for sight of his girlfriend as he waiting for their drinks to be made. He found her as he headed back to the table, she was sat directly opposite from him on the other side of the room. Her head was thrown back as she laughed at whatever it was that whoever she was talking to said. 

As Sirius approached the bar to order their drinks, he realised that Y/N was no longer there. Confusion flickered across his features as he had half-expected her to still be engaged in conversation with the bartender.  

Frowning slightly, Sirius cast a searching gaze around the bar, his eyes darting from one corner to the next in a bid to locate his girlfriend. It wasn’t until he got back to the table that he spotted her, seated across the room from him, her laugher ringing out amidst the lively atmosphere. A pang of jealously stirred within him as he watched Y/N interact with the man she was sat with. He took a sip of his drink, determined not to let her win their little competition. 

As Sirius sat back down, the girl’s eyes lit up with amusement, her lips curling into a playful smile as she took in his arrival. 

“Well, well, look who’s back,” she teased, “I was starting to think you’d abandoned me for good.” 

Sirius chuckled, sliding into the chair opposite her with a grin, “Sorry about that. Had to navigate through the crowd of admirers just to get our drinks.” 

“Well, I’m flattered you braved the crowds for me.” 

Sirius let out an amused laugh, but he couldn’t keep his attention off of Y/N. Although the conversation between Sirius and the girl flowed effortlessly, each sentence punctuated with flirtatious banter, he spent every spare second eyeing up his girlfriend. 

As soon as Y/N saw that Sirius had gone to sit with another girl, she knew that she had to take it up a level. There was absolutely no way that she was giving him the satisfaction of winning. After her short conversation with the bartender, another man had approached her and offered to buy her a drink which she politely accepted. He led her over to the table that he was sat on, and much to Y/N’s amusement, it was directly opposite from Sirius.  

“You have a gorgeous smile, by the way.” the man said, reaching a hand out to touch her arm. 

“Flattery will get you everywhere, won’t it?” Y/N smirked. 

“I certainly hope so.” 

As Y/N and Sirius found themselves engrossed in conversations across the crowded club, a subtle game of jealousy unfolded between them, each vying to capture the other’s attention. Y/N had really upped the flirtatiousness, laughing slightly louder than usual, leaving lingering touches on the man’s arm. She couldn’t help but look over at Sirius, her heart racing with anticipation at the thought of his reaction.  

It was only when Y/N saw Sirius lean in a little too closely to the girl that she knew she needed to up her game.  

“Wanna dance?” she asked.  

He had introduced himself, but the name slipped from her mind almost as soon as he said it. Adam? Alex? Aaron. It didn’t matter much to her, to be honest. She wasn’t particularly invested in him, merely seeing him as a means to an end in her quest to provoke Sirius. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for his unwitting role in her scheme. Nevertheless, Adam/Alex/Aaron seemed eager enough to accept her invitation to dance.  

As they moved to the music, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the way that Sirius’s gaze lingered on them from across the room. With each movement, she could feel his eyes burning into her, a silent testament to the effect that she was having on him.  

Feeling a surge of exhilaration, Y/N leaned in closer to her dance partner, her movements growing more playful with each passing moment. She glanced over his shoulder and locked eyes with Sirius, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her lips.  

Sirius, quite frankly, had had enough. Still locking eyes with his girlfriend, he picked up his glass and drained the contents before turning to the girl (who he had now found out was called Jess) and asked her to dance. 

“Fancy a dance then?”  

“You don’t strike me as much of a dancer.” she narrowed her eyes at him skeptically. 

“Guess you’ll have to find out then, won’t you?” he replied, extending his hand towards her.  

Y/N and Sirius were now only a few meters apart, both dancing with their respective partners. With each playful twirl and flirtatious touch, Y/N felt a pang of jealously gnaw at her insides. Her jaw clenched slightly as she fought to keep her composure. As the music pounded, Y/N’s movements became more deliberate, each step calculated to catch Sirius’s attention. Just as she was sure that Sirius was near to reaching breaking point, she saw red. A fleeting look over at Sirius had revealed the girl’s hands tangled in his hair as she reached up on her tiptoes to whisper something in his ear. Sirius had laughed, his hand resting on her waist. With her heart pounding in her chest, she approached Sirius, tugging sharply on his arm. 

“You win.”  

“Well, I hate to say I told you so.” Sirius teased, his tone laced with playful arrogance, “But I did warn you that you wouldn’t stand a chance against me.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes at him as she grabbed a hold of his hand and led him out of the bar. 

“You’re awfully eager to get home for someone that has quite a hefty forfeit waiting for them.” he mused, “you did remember that part of the game, right?” 

“As if I could forget.” Y/N fumbled with her keys, trying to unlock their front door, “It’s all I’ve been thinking about all night.” 

“Yeah? Did you get jealous, baby?” Sirius kicked the front door shut behind him, swiftly pressing Y/N against the wall, “You were trying so hard to get me to bite, weren’t you?” 

Sirius had suddenly switched, his eyes darkening as he pressed himself against her. Y/N’s head was tipped back against the wall as he pressed sloppy, desperate kisses up the collum of her neck. 

“You better head upstairs, you’ve got a long night ahead of you, gorgeous.” 

Within minutes of being in their bedroom, Sirius had her naked, and spread out on the bed, her hand expertly tied to the headboard. He on the other hand, was fully clothed, save for his white dress shirt that was unbuttoned halfway down his chest revealing the tattoos that adorned his skin. He stood at the edge of their bed, staring down at her cockily. 

“Poor girl.” he tutted, “You wanted to win so bad, didn’t you? Didn’t want to be the one tied up and teased when we got home, did you? Was a silly idea from you, really, because you were never going to win.” 

“I was close.” Y/N argued, “You nearly snapped first. ‘Saw it in your eyes when I was dancing.” 

“Mhm. I didn’t like that he had his hands all over you. That’s my job.” Sirius said, “I almost feel bad for him –s pending his night talking to you when all you could think about all night was how good I was going to fuck you when we got home.” 

Y/N whined, tugging against her restraints. Sirius just chuckled, kneeling down on the edge of the bed, nudging her legs open.  

“That’s right, isn’t it? I bet every time he touched you, all you could think about was me. How I’d be making you beg for me as soon as we got home.” 

“Sirius, please.”  

“This wet already?” he slid a finger through her folds, “Were you soaked all night just thinking about me?” 

Y/N groaned and nodded. She knew Sirius would get like this if he won and she would be lying if she said that she wasn’t enjoying every single second of it.  

“Y-yes, Sirius, been thinking about you all night.” 

He smirked as he pushed one of his fingers inside of her, eliciting a soft moan from her lips. He pumped it inside a few times before slowly adding another one. 

“So eager for me.” he murmured, “It’s going to be a little while before I let you come though.” 

“I know...” Y/N whispered, “Just, don’t stop. Please.” 

Sirius didn’t need to be told twice. He had no intentions of stopping any time soon. Dipping his head down to meet the sensitive flesh, he licked a slow deliberate stripe over her clit. Y/N struggled, yanking against her restraints, desperate to weave her hands through his hair. When Sirius pulled away, her hips bucked up instinctively, eager to have his touch. 

“How many times do you think I need to edge you before you go completely dumb for me?” Sirius asked, sickly sweet smile on his face, “Usually five does the trick doesn’t it? But tonight, you seem so desperate already. I don’t think it’ll take that many at all.” 

“Please. Not five.” she whimpered, looking down at him pleadingly. 

“No?” 

Sirius sat up, raking a hand through his dark hair as he reached down into the box that they kept tucked under their bed. Y/N’s eyes widened, knowing exactly what he was searching for. She heard it before she saw it, the soft buzzing sound that filled the room. Sirius pressed the vibrator gently against her clit, resuming his previous position and sliding two fingers back inside of her. 

“Good girl.” he cooed, “Feel good, baby?”  

Y/N nodded, her head tipped back against the pillows, mouth slightly open. Sirius turned the vibrator up notch, causing a soft moan to fall from her lips. The girl’s hips rocked forward onto Sirius’s fingers, earning a smirk from him.  

“Tell me when you get close.” 

A few moments passed, the motion of her hips becoming quicker, trying to meet the rhythm of Sirius’s thrusts.  

“C-close.” she gasped, her eyes screwing shut, “Can I come?” 

“Nope.” 

Sirius turned the vibrator off and removed his fingers. Y/N whimpered at the loss of stimulation, frowning down at her boyfriend. 

“Don’t look so disappointed. You knew this was going to happen when we decide to do our little competition,” Sirius nipped at the skin of her inner thigh, making her flinch, “You picked the punishments, baby. You really thought you were going to win, didn’t you? Wanted to have me all tied up and desperate?” 

“I’ll win next time. Just hated how she was touching you.”  

“Next time?” Sirius cocked his head at her, “You’re very confident for someone who’s all tied up right now.”  

“Shut u-” 

Y/N didn’t get chance to finish her sentence as Sirius switched the vibrator on and pressed it firmly back against her clit.  

“Remember your manners.” 

Sirius continued his routine of playing around with the settings out the vibrator while simultaneously fucking his girlfriend with his fingers. He knew exactly what got her going so it was no surprise that a few minutes later she was thrashing around on the bed begging him to keep going. 

“No.” 

“Please, Sirius.” 

“I said no.”  

He pressed his fingers upwards, hitting her just right, getting her just teetering on the edge of orgasm before quickly switching the vibrator off and leaving her empty once more.  

“Getting so wet for me, darling.” He held his fingers up so that she could see. Her wetness had coated his fingers and Sirius smiled proudly as he showed them to her, “Wanna taste?” 

Before she could reply, he pushed his fingers passed her lips, now slightly swollen from her biting down on them. She groaned, taking them into her mouth and swirling her tongue around his digits. 

“Dirty girl.” he said, taking his fingers out and guiding them back inside of her pussy. Just as he did before, her brought her to the edge again. And again.  

By the fourth time she was denied orgasm, her skin was glistening with sweat, her hips bucking up erratically each time he threated to remove his fingers. Her lips were read and bitten, her breath coming out in short bursts. 

“Sirius, please, please just let me come.”  

He ignored her, lazily drawing circles over her sensitive clit with his thumb. 

“Fuck. Sirius, please. God, I need it.” 

“But you sound so pretty when you beg, baby. Would be such a shame if I stopped now...” he let his voice trail off, taking in her frustrated expression for a moment before continuing, “But, seen as you asked so nicely...” 

He stood up and unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, sliding it over his toned arms and removing it. Not quite being done with the teasing, he decided to take his time getting undressed, leaving his girlfriend laying tied up and needy on the bed as she watched. He neatly folded his shirt and placed it on the chair in the corner of the room. Smirking, he stood at the foot of the bed, deft fingers removing his belt and dropping it to the floor with a clatter, he shoved his trousers and boxers down and took his cock into his hand, pumping it a few times.  

“God, you look fucking gorgeous.” he all but pounced on top of her, nuzzling his face into her neck.  

It was as it something had switched in his brain, the teasing and tormenting now long forgotten as some primal urge took over. He needed to be inside her. His lips collided with hers, the kiss hungry and urgent. He undid her restraints with one hand, not even breaking contact with her lips.  

He lined himself up with her entrance, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist as he pushed his way inside. Their moans mixed together as he entered. Having use of her hands back, Y/N couldn’t wait to touch him. Her hands moving rapidly up to tangle in his hair. Sirius rested his forehead against hers as he thrust his hips, the chain that hung from his neck dangling in her face, the cool metal cold against her flushed skin. 

“You getting close, love?” Sirius asked, feeling his girlfriend tense up around him. 

“Y-yeah. So close.” she let out a ragged breath, burying her face in the crook of his neck. 

“Come for me, baby.”  

Sirius increased his pace, driving her once more to the edge of orgasm, however, this time, he didn’t stop as she reached her peak, maintaining the steady rhythm of his thrusts as her orgasm came crashing down. She dragged her nails down his back causing him to let out a gruff moan as she convulsed around him.  

“That’s my girl.”  

“S-sensitive, Sirius. Fuck.” Y/N wriggled around on the bed, her body burning with the aftermath of her orgasm.  

“Keep going, baby. You wanted this, yeah? Spent all that time begging me to let you come.” he taunted, “Want you to come again f’me. Want you to come at the same time as me. You can do that, can’t you?” 

Y/N nodded quickly, grabbing the back of Sirius’s neck and pulling him down to kiss her. He smiled into the kiss, his hips snapping against hers as he chased his own high. His moans grew louder as she clenched around him, her hips rocking in time with his.  

“Fuck, you feel so good. Always feel so good f’me.” he growled, “Gonna come inside you, baby. Gonna fill you up.” 

Y/N’s chest heaved as she rapidly approached her peak once again. She could feel Sirius growing closer and close with each movement. The roll of his hips started to stutter and he sunk his teeth into the flesh between her shoulder and neck and he climaxed. Y/N followed suit, once again wrapping her legs around him, drawing him as close as she possibly could.  

They both collapsed in a sweaty heap on the bed. Sirius reached over to brush her hair out of her face, propping himself up on one elbow as he gazed lovingly at her.  

“Good game?” he reached down to catch her lips sweetly with his. 

“Good game.”  

#sirius black #sirius black smut #sirius black x reader #sirius black x reader smut #marauders era

[coupsie-daisies]

Kinktober '23: Threesome | Kim Namjoon and Kim Seokjin

Pairing: Husband!Kim Namjoon x Wife!Fem!Reader x Kim Seokjin

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), established relationship

Summary: Namjoon isn't one for sharing, but Seokjin is his best friend, and there's a lot of things he'd consider trying out with Jin by his side

WC: 4.3k

Warnings: homoeroticism, pet names (Princess, pretty/pretty girl), threesome, multiple orgasms, light cum play/cum eating, fingering, oral (Fem receiving), creampie, heavy subspace implications, Reader passes out, light aftercare

A/N: Yall this is a bit rocky but I love it, best of luck. If you like it, please consider reblogging and checking out my links below. Appreciate your reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @snow-pegasus // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1

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This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any other platform is prohibited

You hated Namjoon's damn work events. They were boring, and stuffy, and the drinks weren't as strong as they should have been if they were going to taste so awful. You sipped your champagne anyway, hand tucked carefully into the crook of his elbow while he talked to...well, you couldn't remember their names, but they were some higher ups that Namjoon was keen on impressing. So you stood next to him, and you giggled at their ridiculous anecdotes, and you played up being the pretty little wife that he so deserved to show off. That was something that you could never tire of.

When the conversation finally ended, you slumped against him, chin propped on his shoulder and a pout sitting pretty on your lips.

"Joonie, why do you hate me?" You asked him. He laughed, his dimples showing and his eyes curving into crescents. He had that lovesick look that he saved just for you, and you basked in the sunshiney feel of it.

"If I hated you, I would have made you do all the talking." He argued back, tipping your chin up to press a chaste kiss to your lips. One that you desperately wished would linger, but you knew better. Not when you were surrounded by his coworkers and bosses and so subject to judgment. Namjoon wasn't one for PDA, preferring to keep his worshiping of you behind closed doors where he could make sure he was showing you sufficient adoration.

"Well if it isn't my favorite lovebirds." A smooth voice wrapped around the two of you, and you looked up, your heart leaping into your throat at the sight in front of you. Seokjin was one of Namjoon's closest friends, he'd been a groomsman at your wedding, and you'd gotten reasonably close with him over your years with Namjoon. They had been friends since college, now working at the same company, though in different departments. You had to admit that seeing him was always one of the highlights of these dreaded parties.

"Jin, wondered where you were at." Namjoon grinned, the two pulling each other into a quick embrace before Jin did the same with you, pressing a polite kiss to your cheek that made you go warm.

"Socializing. It's what we're being forced to be here for, right?" He laughed, taking a swig from whatever was in his glass. You nodded, making note of the fact that he seemed to want to get out of there just as much as the two of you did. "Are you two having fun?"

You hummed noncommittally, smoothing out the orchid fabric of your dress against your thighs. It was the best you had, especially when you didn't want to blatantly say no. This most definitely was not the sort of thing that you'd consider fun, but you appreciated the invitation extended to you, and you definitely appreciated seeing the boys get all dressed up.

Namjoon looked like sin on legs, brown-blonde hair pushed back neatly and his damned turtleneck hugging his chest and sculpting his waist, all covered in a dark purple blazer that you'd been wanting to take off of him since the moment he'd put it on. And Jin standing opposite him, looking neat as ever in his steel gray button down stretching across the endless planes of his shoulders and his black tie looking like it was begging to be tugged on, his jacket presumably left on a hanger in the front closets.

"She's been asking to go home since we got here." Namjoon answered, large hand settling on your waist and pulling you close to his side. The proximity, and the warm, dark scent of his cologne did nothing for the pool of warmth swirling in your lower stomach. Damn your mind and its ability to wander so freely. You wondered how hard it would be to get Namjoon to take you into the bathroom of this overpriced venue and take care of your growing problem.

"How could you want to go home? Free drinks, and you get to show off that pretty dress. You do look beautiful by the way." Jin leaned closer as he laid out his compliment, voice as smooth and light as his fingers were as they dragged down your bare arm. You shivered, a tiny gasp slipping from your mouth followed by a hardly convincing clearing of your throat.

"You're too nice, Jinnie. You look amazing yourself." You said, reaching out to smooth his shirt. Namjoon chuckled, low and dangerous and you knew he saw exactly what you were doing. He wasn't the sharing type, but he knew well enough about your little attraction to his best friend, and he knew that Jin had his eyes on you too. He wasn't the sharing type, but it was you, and it was Seokjin, and he couldn't imagine anything being more appealing.

His hands traveled to your hips, pulling you close to his front and looking up at his older friend. His eyes were dark, hands warm even through the fabric of your dress. You weren't sure if they exchanged words at all, or if they just spoke with their eyes, but it was hardly another few minutes before Namjoon was suggesting the three of you be on your way before it got too terribly late.

You whined, breath coming out ragged and your eyes squeezing shut. With your body trapped between the two of them, you felt like you could hardly move, Namjoon's hands pulling you back against him, his lips on your neck while Jin's long fingers slid into your hair, guiding your head back so his lips could descend against yours, plush and hungry and tasting like champagne and peach chapstick. Your lips parted against him, the tiniest noise being swallowed by him as his tongue dipped to explore the new terrain.

His kisses weren't like Namjoon's, Joon was much slower with his, taking his time to savor the feeling and reveling in how easy it was to get you worked up and desperate for him. His mouth against your neck was the same way, tongue dragging lazily against your jugular and nipping at the skin there until a tiny mark bloomed under his lips. You wiggled, pressing your ass back against the growing bulge in his pants, trying to draw him in, urging him to touch you more, to make you feel good.

Jin pulled away from you, and you chased his lips, only for him to gently tug you back with a small tut. Namjoon looked up at him, still working over your delicate skin. Jin stood in front of you, still looking so goddamn put together except for his spit slicked, swollen lips that were curling into a self-satisfied little grin.

"Waited so long to see you like this, pretty girl." He hummed, carefully undoing his tie and tossing it in the general direction of your bedside stand. You reached up, brushing his hands out of the way to make quick work of the buttons on his shirt. And then it was falling away, sliding off his shoulders and leaving him so bare and so goddamn pretty in front of you. You reach out, hands exploring his toned chest, skating up his broad shoulders where you dug your nails in and dragged them back down just to hear the way his breath hitched. And it did hitch, just like you'd always imagined, and the warmth pooled heavily in your stomach.

"Enough of that," Namjoon said, pulling you away from his best friend and sliding the zip on the back of your dress until the fabric began to pool. He guided it off of you, and Jin held a hand out to help you step out of the puddle of fabric. With you standing there, braless and wearing only the tiniest silk pair of panties that left hardly anything to the imagination, you felt so entirely vulnerable, and so desperately wanted that you couldn't help but bloom under the attention. Your nipples prickled in the cool air, growing hard and desperate for attention. Namjoon nudged you towards the bed, firm but gentle in his touch just like always, and then he was taking Jin's tie, winding it carefully around your wrists and knotting them together.

Jin let out a dark laugh, one of awe and lust and pure amusement as you sat there, propped against the numerous pillows that decorated the bed, and looking up at the two of them so innocently.

"We should entertain our guest first, right angel? It's only fair," Namjoon hummed, his fingers sliding down to tweak your nipples. You jolted lightly, chest pressing towards his hands and you nodded.

"Please. Wanna take such good care of him. Promise I'll be perfect for you, Jinnie, I swear." You said, voice like velvet and lips curling into an irresistible smile. Jin palmed himself through his dress pants, his cock aching already just from the feeling of your mouth against his and the way you laid yourself out for him.

He undid the button on his pants, kicking them off to climb onto the bed with you in only his boxer briefs, his length straining the fabric and his precum leaving a wet spot on the front as he leaked into them. You batted your eyelashes at him, spreading your thighs and letting himself crawl between them like he belonged there. He leaned down, lips finding yours again, and the only sound in the room being the sound of your lips smacking against each other desperately and Namjoon's belt coming undone, his clothes sliding off and landing dully against the carpet.

The bed dipped next to you as Namjoon sat on his knees there, his hand stroking along your bare side, kneading against the plush of your thighs as you and Jin kissed until eventually Jin was pulling away, his mouth being replaced by Namjoon's much softer kisses, and his hands busying themselves with pushing your soaked panties aside. Jin thumbed at your clit, rubbing slow circles against it and coaxing even more arousal out of you. Your legs twitched shut, stopped by his hips and easily spread again, one of his hands on your knee, Namjoon pulling at your opposite thigh to open you up for them. It was almost intimidating how well they worked together without a word of communication passing between them.

Jin's fingers returned to your core, dipping between your folds to slide through your wetness, then back up to pass back and forth over your aching clit. You needed more, a desperate emptiness growing between your legs. You squirmed, gasping out a tiny plea into the kiss that Namjoon was still guiding you through. Jin hummed, his fingers speeding up against your clit until your hips were rocking to meet his movements. His touch was hot, burning and yet somehow not igniting you as a whole and you wanted to wail with need.

"Jin, please," You gasped out, head falling back and forcing Namjoon's mouth to detach from yours and drag down the slope of your jaw.

"Please what?" Jin practically cooed, and you huffed, giving your hips a wiggle to emphasize your displeasure at his teasing, but it didn't do anything to wipe the proud look off his face. "Use your words, babygirl."

"Please, want your fingers in me." You answered, too far gone already to worry about how you sounded. You heard Namjoon groan, shifting so he was laying alongside you, his hips pressing desperately into your thigh as Jin eagerly fulfilled your wish. He sunk one long finger into you, curling it slowly and searching until he found the spongy spot at the top of your walls, drawing out a gasping moan from you. "There,"

"So bossy, aren't we," He hummed, but he gave you what you asked for, pulling out and sliding a second finger into you before grinding his fingertips firmly against the spot. You arched harshly, nails digging into the flesh of your palms as the waves of pleasure started to take over, rippling through your lower body and raising your body temperature by a good few degrees. You turned your head, burying your face as deep into the pillow as you could as Jin sped up, his thumb flicking and swirling around your clit being almost too much to handle. However, Joon was having none of your hiding, gripping your chin firmly and turning it so your sounds weren't muffled.

"Wanna hear you. Gotta make sure Jin hyung knows how good he makes you feel. Not polite to hide from him." He cooed in your ear, and you shakily hummed a reply. He tutted, sliding his hand up, pinching at your nipple on the way, giving your throat a barely there squeeze, before he settled on sliding two of his fingers into your mouth, tugging your jaw open and forcing out all the sounds you'd been holding back.

Jin groaned, his fingers faltering for a moment before finding their rhythm again, fucking into you and pressing into the spot that had you gushing around his fingers.

"Close," You said, though the word came out slurred and nearly indistinguishable, but you were sure that they understood with the way you writhed between them, your thighs shaking and squeezing around Jin's hips, and your walls pulsing and clenching around his fingers. But if they did, neither of them said anything, just letting you release on his hand, a broken cry filling the room as the tension building in your body snapped and sent you careening into pleasure untethered.

Jin slowed his movements then, letting you breathe and adjust as your muscles relaxed and you melted against the bed. He brought his hand up to his mouth, making a show of sucking his fingers clean and looking entirely too pleased with himself when your pussy clenched around nothing and a tiny whimper slipped out of your mouth.

"Feel good, babygirl?" He asked gently, stroking along your thigh and very kindly not pointing out the way that your body tensed and flexed and fluttered under his touch. You nodded, still basking in the afterglow of your long awaited orgasm. Then his shit eating grin was back and he squeezed your thighs. "Good, guess you don't need another then,"

He was teasing, you knew he was, but that didn't stop your eyes from going wide and your lips from curling into a little pout. Namjoon tried not to laugh, which led to you turning your pout and puppy dog eyes combo back on him.

"Don't be mean, hyung," He said, pecking your lips. "She's wanted your cock since she met you, you can't tease her like that." He said. You nodded along, too far gone to be embarrassed by the confession you were confirming.

"Want it so bad, Jinnie, please. Wanna feel you inside me. Want you to make me dumb." You rambled on, your tied hands flexing and clenching between your breasts as you looked up at him. He groaned, reaching down to rub at his aching cock, still confined and straining to get out.

"How can I say no when you ask so pretty," He cooed, pushing his boxers down enough to free his cock, his length rivaling Namjoon's, though not as thick and with a pretty curve to it. He tapped the tip of his cock against your dripping folds, easily sliding between then to tease you and chuckling at the desperate way your hips canted up against his, chasing the friction.

You didn't have to beg again, because beneath all the teasing, he was just as desperate as you were. He pressed into you slow and steady, feeling your walls eagerly open up around his cock, sucking him in deeper. He fought off a groan, eyes fluttering shut as he basked in the feeling. It wasn't like Seokjin didn't get laid, he had people falling at his feet, but this was better than any pussy he'd had before, maybe just because it was yours.

You purred at the pressure of being full, and Namjoon pressed closer to you, his mouth running up and down your shoulder before dipping low enough to catch your nipple in his mouth. Your breath came out stuttered and shaky and you tugged at your binds, desperate to touch one of them and ground yourself. But Namjoon brought his hand up, gripping your wrists and guiding them above your head and out of his way gently.

You gave in, opting instead to clench around Seokjin's cock and admire the way his grip on your thighs tightened. Then he pulled back, leaving you with a glaring emptiness inside of you before he was thrusting back into you firmly. He didn't pick up his pace fast, seemingly contented to roll his hips slowly, the friction setting you alight all over again.

"Faster," You begged, blinking up at him. "Need more, need you to use me."

The words made his pace falter, his hips slamming forward just a little harder and then staying there a moment longer. You could see it in the clench of his jaw that he wanted that too, so you whined his name, high and long, more a frustrated huff than anything, and watched his hesitation fade away.

"Say it again," He demanded, his hips moving faster, his cock sliding deeper into you and grazing exactly where you wanted him. "Say my name, princess."

You obeyed, letting strings of his names flutter off your tongue, long and sweet and whiny enough to have Namjoon rutting against your hip. You almost could have forgotten that he was there if it weren't for the wet warmth of his mouth on your tits, worshipping them as he always did and adding just a little more to the overwhelming pleasure you were being washed in.

"Jinnie, please," You nearly sobbed, squirming so hard that Namjoon had to hook his leg over yours to keep the friction against his barely covered cock, and Jin pushed the other up, spreading you open and fucking into you harder, chasing the sound of your voice curling around his name.

Namjoon's hand slid down, pressing between you and Jin's body to strum at your clit, harsh, messy movements that were immediately overwhelming to your senses.

"Can't," You nearly sobbed, body trying to thrash against the two men but immediately being overpowered.

"You can." Namjoon cooed sweetly. "Can cum as many times as we want, I know you can. Just gotta let go. You wanna do that, wanna cum on his dick?"

His words clouded your mind and any doubts holding your body back. You came hard enough to make your vision fade black, your sobs and moans sounding so distant to your own ears that you weren't entirely sure if you'd made a sound at all. But once you were coming down, you noted the emptiness between your thighs, blinking to find Jin stroking himself, brows furrowed together and his lips pressed tight before he came, painting the inside of your thighs with his seed.

You hummed, not entirely back in your body but absolutely delighted to see how pretty he looked when he finished, to have him mark you with his pleasure. Namjoon sat up then, untying your hands and rubbing at your wrists, worried about how hard you'd been tugging on them.

"Joonie," You mumbled, looking up at him through heavy eyelids. He turned back to you immediately, always so attentive. "Want you to cum too. Want you to feel good."

"Baby," He half laughed, and Jin didn't answer, too busy scooping his cum onto his fingers from your plush thighs.

"Please? Want you to fuck me too. Been good, you promised you'd fuck me after your dumb party if I was good." You huffed, pulling at Seokjin's wrist to bring his hand to your mouth, dutifully cleaning his seed off of his skin. He stared at you in awe, then looked at your husband who was watching you with dark eyes.

"Greedy," He huffed. You just giggled, watching him strip his underwear off and setting his painfully hard cock free. He took Seokjin's spot which the older of the two willingly gave. He leaned down, dragging his tongue over your inner thigh to clean off the rest of his hyung's cum before leaning forward, slotting his mouth over your sensitive cunt and lapping up your juices.

You writhed, hands finding purchase in his hair as he ate you out slow and steady, lapping between your folds and swallowing down your juices. You hummed, letting him suck at your clit the way that you loved. He knew you inside and out, knew exactly how to make you feel good.

Jin had sat down beside you, his fingers stroking your hair and brushing against your cheek as Namjoon ate you up and brought you back to your high. This one was intense, but less sharp, the orgasm washing over you like crashing waves that pulled you under instead of electric shocks. Namjoon was gracious, using his tongue to gently work you through it before pulling back and lining up with your weeping hole.

"You sure you want another one, pretty? Don't wanna hurt you," He hummed, hands rubbing grounding strokes along your sides and back down to your hips. You nodded.

"Want it. Need you. Don't care if it hurts, need you to take me." You said, voice airy and lost in the pleasure in a way he recognized. He hummed his agreement, giving in easier than he'd really planned to.

He guided himself into you on sheer muscle memory. The new experience of having Seokjin fill you up was amazing, but nothing could beat the absolute familiarity of Namjoon's cock splitting you open. He wasn't as long as Jin, but he girth was enough to have tears pricking at your eyes, aided by the oversensitivity of your previous three orgasms.

You reached down, fingers catching with Namjoon's and tangling together as if searching for a lifeline. He gave it to you, holding your hand and letting you adjust to his size before setting a steady pace, folding your legs out of the way and spreading you open.

He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, his free hand coming up to push through his hair, loosening it from the gel he'd used and letting a few locks fall around his face. He looked ethereal, so consumed by the feeling of your walls around him, so tight and warm like you'd been molded just for his cock.

"So pretty," He hummed, reaching up to brush the few overstimulated tears starting to fall from your eyes. "Take me so well, don't you? Doing so good for both of us."

Seokjin took his place, stroking your cheek and pressing chaste kisses to your parted lips. You melted against the bed, losing all ability to think, or doing much of anything besides let Namjoon take care of you. He was hitting the spot that turned you to a whiny mess, one hand still holding onto yours, and the other one rubbing at your clit while he pounded into you.

His words were fading straight to the back of your mind, washing over you and dragging you deeper into your floaty mindset. You could barely process what he was saying, but you didn't mind, not with Seokjin's praise going in the other ear, his voice muffled against the skin of your neck. You were surrounded, held so close that you couldn't move if you wanted to.

Then you were tipping over the edge again, your orgasm tinged with pain as he chased his own pleasure. It only took a few more thrusts into you before he fell with you. He pumped his load into you with a broken growl, his head falling low as he chased the feeling, pushing through as many thrusts as possible, trying to ride you both through the pleasure before it became too much.

It took a good few minutes for you to come back to consciousness, long enough for Namjoon to pull out of you and grab a rag to clean you up while Jin held you close, pressing kisses to your head. You blinked slowly, registering the ache between your thighs and thee tenseness in your muscles.

"Welcome back, princess," Seokjin said with a grin. You smiled back, though a bit groggily. Then Namjoon was back, kissing your cheek.

"Feeling okay? You were out for a minute there," He said, hands pressed against your sides in the grounding way that you always needed. You nodded slowly.

"Good. I'm good." You said, registering that everything had really happened and hadn't been another one of your overdeveloped fantasies. "Stay?"

You turned to Jin, your hand seeking his. You didn't know what this meant for the three of you now, and you couldn't comprehend figuring it out now, but you desperately wanted him to stay so you could figure it out come morning.

Jin opened his mouth to argue, not sure if that was something that was really acceptable, but Namjoon repeated your word a little more firmly.

"Stay. You can sleep in here, or the guest room is open." He said, finishing cleaning you up for the time being. Jin looked at you, at your sleepy, pleading eyes, then at Namjoon's with his sincere expression.

"Okay. Yeah, I'll stay." He agreed, and then you were curling into him like it was where he belonged, wrapping around him and nuzzling into his shoulder."Thank you for this," You mumbled, and before he could even turn the sentiment back on you, you were asleep in his arms. With your weight against him, and Namjoon turning off the lights to join the two of you, Jin wondered if maybe this was right where he belonged.

#bts smut #bts #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #kim seokjin smut #kim seokjin x reader #bts x reader #BTS #Kim namjoon imagine #Kim namjoon fanfic #Kim namjoon fanfiction #BTS fanfic #BTS fanfiction #BTS imagine #kim Seokjin imagine #Kim Seokjin fanfic #Kim Seokjin fanfiction #kinktober #BTS Kinktober

[rosewaterandivy]

rack 'em up!

Summary: in hustling, ya gotta keep the score real simple. count your money at the end of the game, and walk away.

Pairing: s.h. x fem! reader

WC: 1.6k

Warnings: NSFW 18+, drinking, cursing, & pool shark steve

A/N: A continuation of our Modern Love series featuring Steve 🥰 Reblogs, likes & feedback are appreciated - reposting is not. Enjoy! 💜

The first time you’d met Steve Harrington, you hadn’t been yourself. It was Halloween night and one of your best friends had somehow convinced you to go out with her to a local bar. You were in your Audrey Horne finest — pink sweater, plaid skirt, Mary Janes and all — while your bestie had settled for the Log Lady, classic Twin Peaks. 

Thighs sticking to the cracked vinyl seat, you nursed a beer only half-listening to your friend’s bitching about her grad school class. Sitting at the bar, you felt exposed. And sure, she was there and had been supportive throughout this ordeal. But still — it was the first time you’d been out since the break-up. 

Shaking your head, you tried to rid yourself of the incessant thoughts which were proving less than helpful. She quickly noticed your discomfort, she worried her lips and tried to get the bartender’s attention. “We can go if it’s too much babe,” she murmurs softly, “Or at least head up to Paschal’s where it won’t be as crowded.”

“No, this is fine,” you insist, taking a sip from your beer, condensation gathering on the glass. “I’m just getting used to it is all.”

She gives you a small smile, “Okay, but let me know when you want to bounce.”

The bar fills up rather quickly from there. The breaking of racks sounds out from the pool tables in loud cracks, quickly followed by loud whoops and hollers. The pair of you were occasionally jostled by patrons opening their tabs and ordering food or drinks. Coming to the end of your beer, you nod to her and she signals for the check. 

Someone slides in behind you, sending your pint glass tumbling to the bar top the remnants of lukewarm beer readily making its way toward your lap. You quickly stand to avoid the spill and back up.

Large, warm hands lightly grasp your arms, causing you to jump, “Oh shit,” he says, voice apologetic, “That was my bad, I’m so sorry!”

Turning in the stranger’s grasp, you catch Liz’s wide-eyed gaze, “No harm, no foul,” you insist, “Quick reflexes and all.”

The sight of him makes you want to drop dead. A furrow in his brow and lip worried between his teeth — too handsome for his own good.

“Let me make it up to you.” His thumbs graze over the fabric of your sweater as you nod. He turns to the bartender and leans over the bar top to say, “Hey man, can I get two IPAs, a stout, and whatever else the lady would like?”

He glances back to you, waiting. 

“She had a saison!” Your friend helpfully pipes up from behind you. 

“Thanks,” he smiles at her, “Can I get you anything?”

She flushes under his attention and places her order before pulling you to the side out of earshot. Her eyes gleam in mischief when she says, “Ooh girl, he is fine.”

You can’t argue, he is objectively attractive. All coiffed hair and tan limbs, definitely out of your league. Involuntarily, you curl in on yourself.

“Hey,” she scolds, “Don’t do that.”

As if she could read your thoughts.

“Yeah, under Harrington man. Thanks!” 

Schooling your expression into a semblance of cool, you smile when he leans back hands you the drink, your fingers brushing briefly. 

“I am really sorry about that, by the way.” He says, eyes clouding over with worry. “Hope it didn’t ruin your night.”

“Not at all,” you say after taking a sip, “We were about to head out anyway.”

She elbows you something fierce and narrows her eyes.

“What she means to say, is that we were about to head upstairs.” 

The stranger nods, “That’s cool.” 

It’s only then that you notice the three other beers in his hands in a triangle formation, condensation growing steadily on each glass. You meet his gaze, “D’you need help with those?”

When he smiles, it’s slow and saccharine. “Don’t worry about it, honey.” He nods toward the pool tables, “But you can come along, if you’d like?”

Your best friend all but yanks your arm out as he walks toward a group of people surrounding the pool table. He hands the respective drinks to the man and woman arguing over stripes and solids. 

“I broke, so I get to call Rob!” The man with long hair pulled up into a bun insists. “It’s like, common courtesy.”

The woman, Rob, takes a brief sip of her beer, top lip coming away covered in foam. “But polite society dictates that you should offer the choice to me, Eddie.”

Eddie rolls his eyes before noticing the new additions to the group. “Harrington,” he says with a smile, “Care to introduce us?”

The man’s eyebrows raise, “Oh, um,” he begins before faltering. “This is—“

Your bestie swiftly butts in to introduce you both. “Nearly ruined her night,” she jokes, “Beer stained skirt is a sure-fire ticket home.”

Eddie laughs along with her and turns back to the game of pool. “Whaddya think then?” His eyes meet yours, “Solids or stripes?”

Robin scoffs indignantly and chalks her pool cue. 

His attention catches you off-guard, “Oh, um,” you echo Harrington, “Stipes, I guess?”

Eddie smiles and leans down to take his shot, “Excellent choice.” He sinks two stripes in the corner pocket and rises lazily to sip his beer.

Your friend, meanwhile, made herself scarce, socializing with Rob across the pool table. Harrington, first name unknown, eyed the game briefly.

“Take over for me?” 

He glances across the table and takes the outstretched cue. “Sure thing Rob.” He brushes past you with a cautionary hand to the small of your back, “Sorry.”

Your friend and Robin continue their conversation at a nearby high-top table, while Harrington lines up his shot. Left alone with your beer, Eddie makes his way to your side. “This game is about to become distinctly unfair,” he grouses.

“How so?”

“Steve’s a pool shark,” he shrugs, “Good thing Rob and I didn’t bet on this game, he’d take me to the cleaners.”

You laugh at that, “Well, considering that she abandoned the game, I think that makes any bets null and void.”

“Maybe so.”

You sip your beer, conversation with Eddie coming easily. “I could give him a run for his money,” You say off-handedly, “If you wanted to make it interesting.”

The cue ball cracks against the remnants form the rack, two solids falling into the side pocket. Eddie gives you a wicked smile, “That so, sweetheart?” He chuckles and takes a drink, “Bit of a hustler yourself?”

You shrug casually, “Had a shit dad,” you supply, “Learned a thing or two in the bars he frequented.”

“Fair enough,” he says before turning to Steve, “Harrington!”

Steve stops his perusal of the pool table. Eddie chalks up the cue and passes it to you. “Care to make this game a little more interesting?”

Bets are taken — 3 to 1 with odds in your favor; you had graciously elected to abstain from betting. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for your best friend. 

(“Oh my God, this is the greatest,” she crows, “The last time she played, she made a dude cry.”)

Steve, it had to be said, was indeed a shark; the game was evenly matched. Before long, a group had gathered around you to watch. Eddie kept the drinks coming while Robin insisted you both eat something. 

Steve lined up to take his turn; it was a long shot, “Eight ball, left corner pocket.”

As he leans over, his shirt rode up slightly along his back revealing tan skin and toned muscles. You feel yourself begin to get hot under the collar. Eddie thrusts a cold can of beer into your palm, “Steve, make yourself decent, for fuck’s sake.”

He blushes at that, shot falling just shy of his call. The eight ball rolling to a stop on the precipice of the pocket. You let out a low whistle, holding the can against your forehead for relief. 

“Wouldn’t be taking it easy on the lady, would you Harrington?”

Hazel eyes meet yours for a brief moment. He winks at you as you open the can to take a sip. “Not at all, Ed.”

You sip slowly, the cool beer alleviating your parched throat. Swallowing, you wipe a hand across your mouth and set the can aside. “That’s a shame,” you say approaching the table with a sway in your hips. “Get ready to pay up, pretty boy.”

Eddie cackles at that, Robin and your bestie howling in laughter. The patrons watching the game unfold let out whoops and whistles. It would be easy enough to simply tap the eight ball in the corner pocket, ending the game handedly. 

You instead opt to ricochet the cue ball along the sideboards with enough force to propel it into the corner pocket with an audible crack. A wave of cheers erupts around you as Steve’s head dramatically drops in defeat. Eddie, Robin, and your friend bumrush and crowd you against the pool table. 

“To the victor, go the spoils!” Robin hollers, turning you toward Steve.

You extend your hand, palm outstretched awaiting the payout. “Cough it up, pretty boy.”

With a huff, he digs his wallet from his back pocket and counts out the twenties. His fingers are warm against yours, you give him a small smile. “No hard feelings?”

He smiles in return, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Clasping the bills in your hand, you eye him up and down. Insecurity and shyness from earlier in the night alleviated from the progression of beers over the evening. “Tell you what,” you say, scrambling for a pen and paper, “If you ever feel like getting your ass handed to you again,” you jot down your number, “I’m available.”

He takes the scrap of paper from you with a slow smile, “Good to know.”

And if someone airdrops you a new contact before you leave, then so much the better.

Pretty Boy Steve: soooo, rematch?

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #Spotify

[hamspenalty]

max/daniel. juno au. 1.9K words.

*

Max’s stomach turns threateningly from her place in her perfect cocoon of warmth. She immediately sits up, runs to the bathroom, and throws up all of her pork chops from the night before.

As she brushes her teeth, she stares at herself in the mirror. This supposed ‘stomach bug’ of hers had been around for three weeks at this point, and it’s safe to assume that it’s more than a stomach bug. She should’ve known that it was a mistake to sleep with Daniel.

She sighs, flicks the light off in her bathroom, and pointedly avoids her own stare.

*

Max drives to the old, run down Walgreens that smells like mold and stale pizza after her philosophy lecture. She digs her thumbnail into the paper cut on her finger as she looks at pregnancy tests, and picks the one with the overly happy woman holding onto her stomach.

She grabs five. Just to be sure.

*

Her suspicions are confirmed. She’s pregnant. Max stares at the stick that’s in her shaking hand, drops it in her book bag when she can’t stand the sight of it anymore.

She digs her fingers into her eyes to stop the tears, and curses herself for her own stupidity. She should’ve known it was a bad idea — the pull-out method was unreliable — and now she was sitting in front of a musty Walgreens in her beat up car, when she should’ve been doing homework, reading about metaphysics with her brain leaking out of her ears.

Max bites into the shaking fat of her bottom lip, going to the one place that would make her feel better. The pet store.

It was a weird habit she’d picked up in her freshman year, before she met Lando and Charles and made other friends. She’d head to the pet store and stare at the animals, thinking about owning a gerbil or a hamster. She knew, logically, that she couldn’t because a) she was a freshman in a cramped dorm and b) her dad would never let her spend her measly allowance on an animal. Still, it was a happy thought.

As Max stares at the ferrets digging their heads into their soft bedding, she thinks about how everyone might react to the news. If she’s going to keep the baby or get rid of it. The more and more she mulls it over, the more her stomach starts to turn as if to say, ‘too much distress for one day; shutting down’, like her hunk of a laptop would in high school whenever she wrote a paper that was two pages too long.

“Hello, ma’am?” A worker wearing a green apron and a name tag said to her, appearing as if he’d been there for a while. Small tendrils of embarrassment flickered within her gut. “Are you planning to buy one?” He motions his head towards the glass box, where the ferret she was once staring at is sleeping, curled up against the wall. Its nose twitches as it sleeps.

“No,” Max says, shaking her head. Being dragged out of her thoughts makes her smell the Auntie Anne’s cart a few feet away. She should buy a slushy. “Just looking.”

“Alright, well we’re closing soon.” She reads the name on his name tag. Tom. Regular name for a regular looking man. “Okay,” Max says, and hopes her face doesn’t do something weird. She walks away afterwards, fulfills her wish of buying a slushy. The blue raspberry colors her tongue and ails her consistent, 24-hour loop of nerves.

*

“Max!” Charles exclaims when Max comes inside, shutting the door as quickly as possible to keep the cold out. He’s wearing some bright cashmere sweater with weird geometric shapes on it, with a pair of very distressed jeans. Max pushes down a snicker at the sight.

“Hi, Charles,” She says tiredly, sitting down at the scratched up, mahogany kitchen table. Lando looks up from her laptop, glasses perched low on her nose. “You look like shit, mate,” She says, taking a sip of whatever was in her mug.

“Thanks,” Max says, “How kind.” Lando winces and mumbles a weak apology. “Where were you?” Charles asks, flipping a grilled cheese sandwich in the pan.

“Library,” Max says, the lie rolling off her tongue easily. “Philosophy homework. You know how it is.”

“Yes,” Charles says, looking solemn. “Unfortunately, I do.” Lando starts talking about Oscar’s bland responses to her memes, that she thought were absolutely hilarious, that Oscar thought were a little stupid. Charles listens to all she has to say and adds side comments, and Max lets their constant stream of conversation wash over her.

“Oh, Max,” Lando says, dragging Max out of her brain. “Daniel stopped by here to see you today. Said something about you not returning his calls? He told me to tell you to text him as soon as possible.”

Max sighs through her nose, picks at the healing scab on the bridge of her nose from where she scratched it too hard a few weeks ago. “Okay. Thanks.”

*

Just as Max is about to get around to actually doing her philosophy homework, her phone buzzes itself half to death on her bedside table, making her exasperation flare up. She was planning to ignore it, thinking it’d be Victoria or something, but it was Daniel.

Max knew that if she didn’t answer, he’d just come over here again the next day. And she might actually be there that time. Both Lando and Charles were bad liars, so there was no way they’d be able to cover for Max effectively.

Her thumb hovers over the green button, a picture of her and Daniel at some random club her sophomore year mocking her. They both look happy in the picture, but Daniel especially. His beaming smile makes her heart ache.

“Hello?” Max says, and Daniel’s sigh of relief is one that could be heard around the world. “‘Hello’? That’s it?” Daniel asks, and Max can almost hear the way his eyebrows must be furrowed. “I was worried about you. It’s been two weeks.”

Max winces. It has, and she somehow hadn’t realized. All that throwing up must’ve fucked with her memory. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry, I’ve been-”

“Busy? Yeah,” Daniel scoffs, and it’s Max’s turn to furrow her eyebrows. She feels that she somehow might’ve put her foot wrong in this situation. “What’s the problem?”

“The problem is Max, that you’ve been ignoring me ever since we slept together,” Daniel says. “Was it that bad? Now you can’t even speak to me, and Lando has to play the middleman for the both of us?”

It was anything but bad. The way Daniel had laid her down, made her feel important while he took her apart, and put her back together afterwards, was unlike anything she’d experienced before. Maybe if it was bad, it would be easier for her to get over this thing in her belly. God, she couldn’t even say or think the word.

“Daniel, it was not bad. I’ve just been sick,” She says. It’s technically not a lie. “Are you okay?” Daniel asks, concerned. “Yes. I’ll get better soon.”

“Okay,” He says, sighing. “Okay. I’m sorry for like, snapping at you. I’m not a dickhead, I promise.” Max just laughs softly, though her chest clenches. “I know.

“So what kind of sickness is this? The kind that spreads from kissing, the one that stuffs your nose so bad you can’t tell your ass from your elbow, or the one that makes you puke your guts out?” Daniel asks, teasing. If only he knew. “Definitely the last one. A little bit of the second. I think I should definitely consider going to what is it, the Mayo Clinic? Get put in a trial.”

Daniel’s laugh makes her chest warm and her cheeks heat up. “That’d be sick.”

“Literally,” Max says, her computer temporarily shutting off from her lack of use. “What are you doing?” She asks, and Daniel hums. “Watching Bob’s Burgers. You?”

“Philosophy homework.”

“Oh shit, should I call back later?”

“No, it’s fine. I can do it tomorrow.”

“Nah. Go be a scholar, Maxy. Make me proud,” He sighs, and Max could hear what was probably the shuffling of his bed sheets against his moving body. Max rolls her eyes, though there’s no heat in it. “If you do, I might just have a little gift for you tomorrow.”

Afterwards, Max has never been more interested in her philosophy homework in her life.

*

When Max gets back from an entire day at the campus library, she finds Daniel laying on her bed, completely naked, with a bow taped to his dick. Max drops her bag and her phone in shock, laughing.

“Here’s your gift. Me, obviously,” Daniel says, grinning mischievously. In that moment, Max usually wouldn’t be able to resist locking her door and stumbling towards the bed, letting Daniel pull her close and fuck her in her sheets that she hadn’t washed in god knows how long. But she couldn’t let herself.

She felt the words crawl up her throat with determination, her mouth dry as her lips formed the words. “I’m pregnant.”

She watches it land. The way his smile falls and he starts to half blink, slow, as if he was drunk. “What?”

“Daniel,” Max starts, her voice cracking. She did not cry. She would never let herself. Not in front of him, and not now. “I’m pregnant.”

“And it’s mine?”

Max scoffs, anger flushing her skin. “Yes, it’s yours. I wouldn’t be telling you this if it wasn’t.” Daniel sits up and throws his hoodie on, with a baggy pair of basketball shorts he’d left a few weeks before. Max hadn’t bothered to give it back.

“When did you find out?”

“Yesterday morning.”

“Wait,” He pauses. “So when I called you last night, and you said you were sick because you were throwing up, you knew you were pregnant? And you didn’t tell me?”

“You were already mad at me! I didn’t wanna give you this to think about too,” She explains. “I’m sorry.”

Daniel sighs. He pats the spot next to him. “Sit.” Max goes. She almost whines at the feeling of his warm hand finally meeting the flushed skin of her thigh after weeks of not touching him. “Enough of that. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know yet,” She says, resting her elbows on her knees and covering her face with her palms. “I should probably just have an abortion, yes? Then we can..”

“Move on and act like this never happened? Fuck, Max,” Daniel sighs, and Max furrows her eyebrows. He takes his hand off her thigh. She misses it immediately. “What do you want me to do? Keep it? I can’t do that! Unless we give it up.”

“You can keep it or you can get rid of it. Is that what you want?” Daniel asked, eyebrows raised. “Because we’re doing whatever it is that you want to do. I just don’t want you to act like this never happened between us.”

She sighs, runs a hand over her face. “I don’t know, okay? Give me a few days.” He nods in the silence, before dropping a kiss to her shoulder. “I’ll see you later, okay? Let me know what you decide.”

Max nods, robotic as she watches him go, his shoulders drawn up sky high.

#came out of my small retirement 4 this 🫡 #my ficlet #maxiel #juno au

[hexpea]

Ch. 16 - Temptation ⚠️NSFW BELOW⚠️

Gojo took you back to his condo, the environment unfortunately familiar from your tryst just a few weeks prior. It was just as you left it, modern and sleek, and somehow clean despite Gojo's usual busyness. Your previous queasiness had been momentarily alleviated by the fresh air, but the emotional turmoil was far from over.

Gojo led you into the living area, guiding you to the plush sofa. You sank into it gratefully. The room was filled with an assortment of high-end furniture, and you still couldn't get over the view of Tokyo from those windows. This time, though, you couldn't fully appreciate the opulence around you as you continued to struggle with your inner thoughts.

Meanwhile, Gojo had disappeared into the kitchen for a moment and returned with a glass of water, offering it to you. "You need to stay hydrated," he said in a more gentle tone than usual.

He knelt down in front of you as you took it from him and muttered a soft 'thank you' before taking a few sips. His blue gaze held heavy concern as he looked you at you, his eyes darting between yours. The cool water was refreshing, soothing your irritated throat. As you drank, his eyes remained fixed on you, the sight intense.

"I'm really sorry about earlier," you began, setting the glass down on the coffee table in front of you. "I thought I could hold it back, usually I can."

"Usually?" He chuckled for a moment through his soft gaze. "This happen more than once?" You nodded and Gojo gave a deep sigh in response. "Y/N, don't apologize. We're dealing with some serious stuff here, and it's only natural that it's taking a toll on you."

You appreciated the genuine concern of his voice, but it also stirred up some conflicting emotions. You didn't want to be babied like this, especially by your ex-husband. Still, there was an undeniable sense of vulnerability in that moment, and you couldn't help but feel a certain attraction toward him in that moment. As you looked into his eyes, you saw a hint of that same attraction mirrored in his gaze. It was a dangerous game that the two of you were playing, filled with unresolved feelings.

His hand reached out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The contact of his fingers against your skin sent a shiver down your spine. "You're strong, Y/N," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "but it's okay to lean on someone once in a while. You don't have to carry the weight of this alone."

You felt his thumb gently trace your cheek and you couldn't help but lean toward his touch, your eyes fluttering shut as your stomach finally settled. It was a moment of weakness, one that left you somehow feeling both relieved and troubled. There was a magnetic pull between the two of you that had persisted since the beginning, and it was a force that couldn't be denied. But you couldn't allow yourself to fall into old patterns, to let your guard down completely again.

With a conflicted smile, you gently pulled away from his touch. "Thank you, Satoru. I appreciate your concern, but we have work to do. Let's focus on finding that finger."

He straightened up, his usual confident grin returning. "You're right, Y/N. We'll settle for tonight, but tomorrow we'll get to work."

With night creeping on the horizon, Gojo went about his business, spending most of his time on his laptop on the sofa likely creating lesson plans and/or searching information on the locations of the other fingers. You quietly observed him while attempting to watch TV in the seat next to him, the dim lights of the living room casting intriguing shadows on his face. It was becoming difficult to keep your promise and you wondered what his feelings were, too.

Despite your best efforts to focus on the mission and your loyalty to Seiko, your mind began to wander. You knew it was wrong, the feelings you had for Satoru, the undeniable attraction that had been simmering beneath the surface. Your relationship with Seiko was important, and you had made a commitment to them. But Satoru was a temptation that was hard to resist.

With a deep breath, you decided to get up thinking a relaxing shower would help you clear your mind and wash away the confusing emotions that threatened to consume you. You rose from the sofa and made your way to the bathroom.

The hot water cascaded over you as you stood in the shower, letting it wash away the tension that had settled in your muscles. It was a comforting sensation, but your thoughts of Satoru still lingered, invading your mind like an uninvited guest. You couldn't help but remember the passion from that night. The memories of that night in his arms flooded your mind, and it was hard to deny the desire that still smoldered beneath the surface. As steam filled the bathroom, you closed your eyes and rested your forehead against the cool tile, struggling to make sense of the emotions that threatened to overwhelm you and channel away the sudden tingling between your legs. The pull of attraction was undeniable, and it tugged at your resolve.

"Y/N, you okay in there?" Satoru's voice broke through your meditation and your heart leapt with a mixture of panic and longing. He had gently cracked the door open unbeknownst to you.

"Y-yeah," you stuttered, feeling a blush flood your cheeks. "Just finishing up, trying to...clear my head a bit," you reassured him.

"Sometimes, a hot shower is exactly what you need to clear your mind," his voice sounded closer, a hint of cocky enthusiasm in his voice, "but it's even better with some company."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you heard him close the door behind him, you hadn't even known he'd opened it. It was a dangerous game you were both playing, and you knew that you should resist but he was almost impossible to ignore. With the click of the door closing, you looked up to meet him and quickly covered yourself despite being seen before. Meanwhile, he stood before you, toned physique on full display, in just his underwear. He had a well-known mischievous glint in his eyes. The sight of him nearly buckled your knees as you held your arms across your body. You couldn't deny the desire that coursed through your veins. You watched carefully as he slid his underwear down, already fully erect before you.

He stepped closer, the steam enveloping him, creating a sensual haze as he opened the shower door. "Y/N," he purred your name, his voice low and seductive. "I want you," he stepped inside, the shower suddenly overcrowded.

Your breath caught in your throat as he reached out, his fingers brushing against the wet skin of your waist as he pulled you closer. The touch sent an electric jolt through your body and you couldn't stop the longing that continued to surge through you.

"You told them I'd stay here on purpose," your voice whispered, almost inaudible from the running water. The statement was supposed to be one of anger but it came out sounding as if you were hypnotized. 

Satoru leaned in, his lips now dangerously close to yours. Your head was tilted in his direction as he pinned you against the wall of the shower with his pelvis. You could feel his naked hardness against your clit, a desperate exchange of fervent pulses of need between your bodies.

"We really shouldn't," you continued, shaky words hardly falling from your lips.

"Life's too short," he murmured simply.

Before you could protest, his mouth captured yours in a searing kiss. His hands grabbed your wrists and pinned them next to your head as he pressed and moved against you with his hips, the water making things almost too slippery. The world around you seemed to disappear as the two of you lost yourselves in the intensity of the moment. The hot water continued to cascade over your bodies, his hands releasing yours for exploration, setting your senses on fire. With a sense of urgency, he turned your body around so that you faced the tiled wall. He leaned forward and left a trail of gentle kisses along your neck as he pressed against your bottom, continuing to ignite the feeling that threatened to consume you.

"Y/N," he whispered again, lips brushing against the wet shell of your ear, his voice husky with need, "let me make you forget everything for a while."

You had no reply. You wanted him to take you away. As he continued to kiss you, his hands moved with a purpose toward your chest as you were pressed against the wall. His palms engulfed your breasts in light massage, lightly toying with your nipples as breathy sighs joined the echo of the rushing water. His hands carefully traveled down your waist, taking in the feeling of your slick skin, until he reached your hips. He then hiked you up to his pelvis, your ass presented to him like a sweet peach, as he began to slide inside with ease, the water helping with lubrication.

"Haa~" You breathed out as he pressed into you, the water doing nothing to ease the feeling of suddenly being stretched out.

He slowly retracted as your body adjusted to the sensation. Just as he was nearly out of you, he quickly slammed back in, earning quite the yelp from you as the feeling tore through you once more. It was somehow reminiscent of a paper-cut, but one you wanted over and over again. He increased his flow, the slapping of your skin filling the room with echoes. Thanks to the water, he was able to slip dangerously close to your cervix. The pain was nearly too much to bear, your moans spilling out of you relentlessly unlike last time. 

"That's it," he praised with a crooked grin you couldn't see while your cheek was pressed against the tile. He leaned down toward your ear for a brief moment, "you're taking it so well." Your body was obviously quivering under his motions but that didn't stop his rough pace, even as unnoticeable, pleasured tears formed at the corners of your eyes.

Hearing you cry out earned you some low, breathy chuckles from the man behind you. His grip on your waist tightened as he continued ripping through you, your body nearly falling to pieces as your knees began to buckle. Your hands had nothing to grab onto, nails scratching against the smooth tile while you were being pounded upon. Just when you thought your body could take no more, he suddenly changed positions, pulling himself from you and turning your body to face his once more. You held a startled expression as he continued taking the lead, a dark look in his eyes as they held you. Using his strength, he effortlessly grabbed the back of your knees. You gave a little squeak of shock as he moved. Once situated, he pressed himself into you once more, your legs now wrapped around his pelvis. He continued his movements, this time a bit slower with the focus he had on holding you up. His forehead pressed against yours as water dripped from stray strands of hair. You held on to his neck out of fear of slipping while his hands supported your bottom, squeezing your cheeks tight. 

With your faces in front of one another again, you felt a sense of desperation for his lips. You took initiative this time, sliding your nose past his to meet his wet lips. The warm taste of the shower water intruded on your kiss but it didn't deter, not one bit. Your movements were hungry as the butterflies began to pool at your lower abdomen, your body beginning its pulses around his shaft. Tongue sliding against tongue like some sort of depraved animal, all rational thoughts had left your mind once more. You hadn't even noticed how sloppy Satoru's thrusts had become, his body becoming weak to yours as his high approached. His cheeks were cherry red as he breathed into your mouth through your kisses, bodies leaving very little room as they slid against one another. 

"'m gonna' cum," he warned between your lips, the veins in his neck beginning to pop a bit as the buildup became too much to bear.

This time around he had a little of himself left to think, quickly pulling himself from you as he came onto the tile below. He let your feet gently settle back down, ensuring you didn't slip as he did so. His jaw was slightly agape, catching air, as he looked at you with a certain fever. You had yet to reach your high and he knew this.

Without a second thought, he slowly fell to his knees, holding your eyes as you, too, breathed heavily from the action and lack of air thanks to the steam. Your heart rate, already elevated, increased further as he leaned forward, perfectly pink tongue held out to gently caress your clit. His lips pursed around you as his hands gently held your hips in place, his perfect complexion was almost hypnotizing as his tongue began to roll in gentle circles around that little bundle of nerves. One hand snuck away from your side, two lengthy digits pressing through your folds until they curled within you. Your hands fell flat against the tile, again grasping for something that wasn't there. The mix of steam made it feel like you were about to faint, but in actuality it was just your pulse skyrocketing against the feeling of his artistic movements within you.

His eyes had fluttered shut, his snow white lashes looked angelic as his lids twitched with concentration. He paid careful attention to the baby-like moans that bubbled from your lips. You desperately wanted to lay down, the flicking sensation of his tongue sparking against you like a match to flame.

"S-Satoru~" you moaned, hand suddenly jolting toward his shoulders as his speed increased, causing your legs to weaken.

He hummed a small laugh against your bearing, sending you into a deeper tizzy. You could almost feel his smile against your sensitive flesh. You laughed out your own moan as the little twinges of pleasure began to float and spread from your abdomen, the feeling warm and simmering against his touch. Then, with a certain curl of his fingers, you spilled over with laughter. A bit of a moan and a bit of a giggle fell from your lips as happiness engulfed you. It was a feeling you had missed for quite some time. Your mind dove to memories of the past few weeks, but even in the weeks prior -- were you truly happy? Or were you living the days as you thought you had to? 

Despite your body brimming with pleasure, you found your lucidity returning to one of confusion, the turmoil inside unable to be quenched even by Satoru's pleasure.

#gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x you #satoru gojou x you #gojou satoru x y/n #satoru gojou x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojou x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojou satoru #satoru gojou #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

[lostfirefly]

If you sit down with this old clown, take that frown and break it, before the evening's gone away, I think that we could make it

I probably won’t surprise anyone, but the idea came to me in a dream. In it, two girls were sitting at a bar and one of them wanted to meet Buggy (I'm serious!). So welcome to another dream! :) English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Buggy and F/GN Reader - Masterlist is here.

Description: Your sister took you to a bar so she could meet someone. She saw Buggy, but he clearly showed interest in you.

Warnings: Nerd people are mentioned here. I have nothing against people who are passionate about something. The basis is the reaction of people who do not understand other people's hobbies.

Words: 1815

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots

The title is taken from “I Hope That I Don't Fall in Love With You” by Tom Waits.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

GIF by vinnymauro

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Why did you bring me here?” You twirled a glass of wine in your hands. 

“Well, because I'm tired of being alone. It's time to get back into the game after we broke up with that asshole.” Your sister leaned back in her chair and scanned the entire room with her eyes. “There are no decent candidates yet.”

“That's all very nice to hear, but why do you need me here?” You took a sip of wine and snacked on cheese. 

“I’m afraid I need a co-pilot, Y/N.” Your sister chuckled and scratched her nose.

“We've been sitting here for two hours and the only options that have come to us are those pot-bellied weirdos over there.” You carefully pointed your little finger at the table where a group of chubby guys in glasses sat, endlessly discussing aliens and yeties. 

“They’re not that weird.” Your sister tilted her head slightly. 

“Not weird? Seriously? One of them came up wearing a t-shirt with the inscription that said “take a ride on my flying saucer.” You laughed. “Sorry, but I didn't sign up for a such kind of date.”

“Well, if there are no other options, I'll choose the one with the Bigfoot t-shirt.” Your sister shrugged and opened new bottle of wine. 

“I'll hope he's not as hairy as his pet on his clothes.” You giggled and poured some wine into your glass. 

“You're such a bitch.” Your sister shook her head and took a piece of cheese.  

Suddenly a loud laughter echoed through the bar. Everyone sitting in the bar instantly turned towards the sound.

“Lord, who is laughing so hard?” You turned around, craning your head. “Apparently that tall guy at the bar.”

“Wow! He’s cute! Why didn't we notice him before?!!” Your sister looked in the same direction. 

“Seriously? Are you sure we're looking at the same guy? Blue hair, red nose, makeup on his face.” You nodded your face towards the guy sitting at the counter. His laughter seemed to shake the walls of the entire establishment.

“Yes. He’s cute!” Your sister kicked your leg under the table. “Go and find out from him whether he’s sitting here with someone or alone.” 

“Why me?” You look at her.  

“You're my co-pilot, Y/N. Or do you want me to start playing the poor abandoned girl card.” Your sister made a sad face. “I might even cry.”

“Okay!” You rolled your eyes. “Fuck. Why is it always me?” 

You muttered under your breath, took a glass, stood up and headed towards. You cleared your throat and gently patted the blue-haired man on the shoulder. “Hey, you. Hello!”  

“What?” He turned sharply and looked you with his green eyes up and down. 

“Nothing. My sister liked you.” You took a sip, realizing that you had said something stupid.

“And what?” The man look at you questionably. 

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Go up to her and say hello like all normal people.” 

“No! I’m busy!” He turned around and poured some whiskey. 

“You’re busy? How? What are you doing? You just sit and drink.” You threw up your hands.

“It's called being busy, brownie! Do you see?” He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, grinned and poured himself a glass of whiskey in one gulp. “So, sorry, my love.” 

“Fuck you! Asshole!” You returned to the table, sat down and groaned. 

“So? Will he come? Y/N, please, say he'll come!” Your sister looked at you with hope. “He's so cool when he grumbles.” She smiled slightly.

“No, he won’t. He’s kind of strange, to be honest. He’s sitting there alone, and by the way, he wears more makeup than you and me combined.” You leaned your elbows on the back of the chair and looked towards the bar counter again.

“Y/N, go and ask what he is doing? Maybe he will come..” Your sister took another sip of wine, looked at you with pleading eyes and lightly tapped her palms on the table.

“Why me? You liked him, so you go! You made a hand gesture, sending your sister to the bar.

“I’m shy.” She stared at the table and began to move her finger along the glass. “You’re better at talking than me. Y/N, plee-e-e-a-a-ase!” 

“Why do I always fall for this? Okay! Site here.” You groaned, stood and came to the bar counter. 

You tapped the man on the shoulder. “Hey, you! Hello again!”

“You again?” He looked at you, and it seemed to you for a second that he was glad to see you. “Now what?” 

“Yeah, me. Well... My sister… My sister is still sitting there.” You carefully pointed towards your table. “And still likes you.” 

“And my question is still, “so what?” The man turned to you. 

“Listen, are you always such a rude person?” You squinted your eyes and took a sip. 

“Great!” He laughed loudly. “Your sister is sending you to me, and I’m the rude one in this situation!” 

“Look, okay, I admit it. I'm not very good at being a co-pilot. To be honest, I have no idea how to do this correctly.” Your chuckled. 

“That's noticeable, brownie!” He flicked your nose and winked.

“Is it difficult for you to spare 5 minutes with us? Say hello, say a joke and then say goodbye. Her boyfriend dumped her, by the way. And for some strange reason she liked you.” You softened your voice.  

“Still my answer is no!” The man turned back to the bar.

“Ass!” You muttered under your breath and was about to come back to your sit.  

“Hey, wait!” The man shouted at you. “What's the name?” 

“Whose name? Sister?”

“No! Your. What's your name?” He looked at you and took a sip. 

“Y/N. And you?” You squinted one eye.  

“Buggy.”  

“Well, hi, Buggy.” You smiled slightly. 

“Well, hi, Y/N.” He winked at you again.  

“Won't you come over?” You nodded again towards the table.

“Sorry, brownie, no!” Buggy shook his head and laughed again.  

“Okay!” You exhaled. “Enjoy your drink!”

You returned to the table and shrugged. “I'm a lousy co-pilot, sister. He won't co~.” 

"So, girls.” Suddenly, a white-gloved hand slammed a bottle of whiskey onto the table. “Are we relaxing?" 

“YES!!!” Your sister shouted happily, and immediately covered her mouth with her hand, not expecting such volume from herself. 

“Yes. Relaxing.” You looked at Buggy and quietly whispered “thank you”.

Buggy winked at you again. “I thought I'd rather keep you company than these weirdos in weird t-shirts.” He placed his hand on the back of your chair. “And I’m Buggy, by the way. So. What are you talking about?” 

“About various things.” Your sister said, started twirling her hair on her finger. 

“Come on, brownie... and... well.. brownie’s sister, tell me about yourselves.” Buggy poured himself a glass of whiskey and gently placed his hand on your back. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye and smiled slightly. 

“Oh, I work at the police station.” Your sister took a sip of the wine without taking her eyes off Buggy. “Well, you know. Administrator. I register cases and everything.”

“Sounds good. What about you, brownie?” Buggy moved his hand over your back a little lower. 

“Nothing to tell, to be honest. I just quit my two jobs, and now I’m celebrating my freedom.” You blushed a little, feeling his hand started stroking your back. 

He took the bottle, turned it over in his hands and smelled it. “You can't celebrate by drinking some crap.” Buggy called the waiter and ordered another bottle of wine. He placed your open bottle on the weirdo’s table. “Guys, this is for you. The best wine in this bar. Enjoy your evening.”  

Buggy chuckled strangely, sat down and moved his chair closer to you. You could smell him, smelling like a mixture of rum and whiskey, and musk.

“Okay, okay.” You glanced at him. “You asked about us. It's our turn! Tell me, what do you do in life?” 

“Me?” He looked at you, pointing his finger at himself. “You don't know who I am?” 

“Sorry, Buggy.” You took his bottle of whiskey and poured some into your glass, squinting your eyes. “But I have no idea who you are.” 

“Na-ah! First, that's my bottle. And I'm gonna get it back.” He smirked and took the bottle from your hands. “Y/N! My brownie, I'm the genius and famous Buggy the Clown!” 

You drank whiskey and choked. “Fuck, it's strong.” You wiped your lips. “Who are you? The clown? From the circus? From the real circus?” You slightly turned your body towards him.

“The realest and greatest circus in the world!” Buggy placed his hand on your waist.  

“So what?” Your sister asked and ran her foot along his leg. “Do you have acrobats, jugglers and mimes there?” 

“Exactly, brownie’s sisters!” Buggy pointed his glass at her. “The best acrobats, the best mimes, the best jugglers! You should go to my show. Especially you, brownie!” He flicked your nose.

“Me?” You tried not to notice his hand on your waist. “Why me? Sorry, Buggy the Clown, I don't like circuses!” 

“You just weren't in my circus, baby!” Buggy winked at you and slowly moved his hand to your hip. 

“Damn, I'm out of whiskey. Waiter. Hey! Are they deaf or something? I'll be right back. Brownie.” He stood up and winked at you. “And.. brownie's sister.”

“How do you do it, Y/N?” Your sister laughed, taking a sip of her wine.

“What am I doing?” You raised one eyebrow.

“I noticed the guy, and he will leave with you. Probably.” Your sister leaned back in her chair and looked around.

“He seems okay. He's even cute.” You shrugged your shoulders and glanced at Buggy, who was actively gesticulating and laughing at the bar counter. “Or maybe he’s flirting with everyone like that.”

"No way! He liked you!" Your sister stuck her tongue out at you.

“Sorry...” You answered sadly.

“Oh, fuck it. He's yours. I'll go meet the yeti.” Your sister took the glass and went to the next table.

“Hey! Where is your sister?” Buggy asked in surprise as he came back.

“She went to see that dude who's wearing a yeti t-shirt. Why are you asking? Miss her?” You immediately straightened your hair, placed your hand on the table and rested your chin on your palm.

“No, brownie. I miss you already.” Buggy plopped down next to you and moved his face close to yours. “So, what are your plans for today?” He stroked your shoulder with his fingers.

You moved even closer to his face and winked. “Buggy the Clown, it seems like you promised to show me your circus. But first…” You carefully ran your finger along his leg. “You will buy me a brownie.”

#one piece #buggy the clown #buggy live action #one piece live action #buggy one piece #opla buggy the clown #buggy fanfiction #buggy fic #opla buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #buggy x female reader #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy x reader

[kakuchari]

ARIIIII may i request a nanami blurb (nsfw or sfw i'll leave that up to you :3) based on the song killshot by magdalena bay please? <3

-> hit me with your killshot, baby. (x) | 2,276 words. afab!reader (no pronouns used but female anatomy included), slight yandere obsession if u squint, alcohol consumption, fingering, cunnilingus, implied penetrative + protected sex, nanami calls reader “sweet thing”, “darling”, higuruma cameo. nanami might be a lil ooc but bear with me here.

a/n: oh salem, this was DELICIOUS to write. what a banger of a song too omg i gotta listen to them more!! i took a more obsessive!nanami approach, i feel like he'd get off on how easy some people are to fall in love with him, but not necessarily in a bad way. it's almost like a confirmation that he's good, he's not rotten like the rest of the men he works with; he's respectful so he deserves rewards in a way??? anyway i'm not sure what happened but here we are LMAO

The speakeasy was quiet this evening.

You sip on a lovely gin and tonic, mixed together just right as your eyes drag across the people dotted around the space. Your business shirt has been unbuttoned slightly, enough to tease as your drink steadily makes you feel warmer and fuzzier. Your heels are long gone, tucked away in your bag as you opt for chunky boots, which tend to be much comfier after a few drinks.

It was a cozy atmosphere; one of your favorite places to go after work to unwind without having to worry about seeing those you know. Which, unfortunately, has happened before and almost turned you off from coming back completely.

But you couldn’t.

Mainly due to the man you’re staring at now, half-hoping he can’t feel your burning gaze.

He’s stunning, and he’s been coming for the past few weeks now. Always on a Tuesday, for some reason, but you ignored the choice of weekday and instead decided to have your gaze wander across his features. His blue office shirt is unbuttoned at the top, just enough that light blonde hairs poke out of the revealed opening. His suspenders are tight against his chest, brown, connecting to his tan slacks. Shiny office shoes adorn his feet as he leans back, crossing his foot over his knee as he takes a sip from his own drink (something dark) and fixates on the book in front of him.

He’s beautiful. Tempting. Like forbidden fruit, except he doesn’t seem to be married.

Even better.

The one thing you do pick up on is how incredibly tired he looks. He normally comes in with another man, this one’s palette almost inverse from your muse’s; dark suit, white shirt, dark hair, but the same bags underneath his eyes and tired facial expressions. They don’t typically speak to each other that much, due to how quiet the rest of the venue is, and choose to read together instead.

However, today, his companion is not here. He has come alone.

One of your fingers, complete with a perfectly manicured black nail, rubs against the edge of your glass as you watch him. He wears glasses, the golden rims catching the lowlight every once in a while as his eyes scan across the words in front of him. He hasn’t noticed you staring; he never has, which is somewhat of a shock to you. Whenever someone is staring at you, it feels like there’s fire alight on the back of your neck. He’s either completely oblivious, or he knows and he doesn’t seem to care.

Something about that makes your thighs clench together. The song in the background, playing gently against the velvet walls, does nothing for your growing yearning for the man.

Something chronic, bit demonic I been on the late shift All alone, staring at my phone

Sin and tonic Stupid promise Something like a death wish All alone, stare into my soul

You’ve never been one for one-night stands, but for him, there is a chance you’d make an exception.

You down the drink, drawing on the courage of the gin as you stand, making your way over to him. You identify his book, first; ironically, it’s one of your favorites, and a smile tugs at your lips as you approach. He looks up in surprise, before his expression smoothens into something close to neutrality. “Well, well, the voyeur finally decides to encounter their muse, eh?” he says, and his voice washes over your ears like silk. It’s gorgeous, with a low pitch and a rasp that makes the ache in your stomach only strengthen.

You take a seat, smiling and blushing to yourself that you’ve been discovered. “I was wondering how long it would take you to notice,” you admit, and he smiles back, folding a worn bookmark into the page he's reading and shutting the book, placing it on the table before turning to you, taking another sip of his own drink. It’s whiskey, made neat; you can tell from the smell across the table.

You sit awkwardly for a moment, listening to the crackling of the fire behind you, before he breaks the silence, his smooth voice taking up space once again.

“Come here often?”

You can’t help but chuckle. “More than I will admit,” you respond, “but it’s nice here. Gives me a chance to slow down after work, and the drinks are lovely.”

He nods, agreeing. “Yes, it’s a good place. Higuruma and I come here often after work; he also enjoys unwinding in a quieter atmosphere.”

Higuruma. That must be his companion. “What do you both do?” you ask, your elbow appearing on the table as the side of your head rests on your open hand. He leans forward then, fully facing the table, and sighs. “He’s a lawyer. Ironic, since he’s just finalized his own divorce as well. I stick to the salary business. It’s boring, but it’s something. Pays the bills at the end of the day.”

You hum. “If I may be honest, you don’t look as if you’re happy there at all.”

He laughs at that, a jovial laugh that isn’t obnoxiously loud; it’s just enough to be between the two of you. “Yes, well, dealing with finance is never an enjoyable activity, but I’ve been in it long enough now where I can find my own pleasures. Especially outside of work when I can look at such a pretty lady, if I do say so myself.”

The blush that appears on your cheeks is bright red, you can feel it as you look down bashfully. “Oh, don’t get shy on me now,” you hear him say as he reaches across the table, lightly touching your chin and raising your face to look back at him. There’s a softness in his gaze, one that you’re not used to. The touch is gentle as well, and you’re praying that he can’t feel the spark you felt as soon as his fingertips touched your skin.

Instead, you opt for teasing him.

“That was a bit forward, wasn’t it?”

He pales, moving his hand away. “Oh, God, sorry, I just—”

You grab his hand, a smile on your lips again as you hold it between your own, rolling your eyes. “Kidding. Promise,” you reassure him as his face relaxes again in relief, “I’d have said something much faster if you crossed a line, don’t worry. Although to me, it seems you don’t enjoy doing that very often. Salarymen are always so by the book.”

He nods, rolling his eyes as well. “I try not to be. Hence me attempting to read books more,” he gestures to the book on the table, “and being here. It’s not as public as many people have dragged me to, but it’s intimate enough where it feels nice to unwind.” He takes another swig of his whiskey, his cheeks dusted a light pink from the alcohol.

You both chat about other things, such as the books you’re reading, what you do for your job, your favorite drinks and what speakeasies and intimate bars you’ve both been to. Before you know it, it’s dark outside, and you’re fumbling for your bag and your keys, cursing at how long you’ve stayed. “I know it’s Friday,” you say, standing, “but I always like to be home a little early. That way I can pour a glass of wine after being here and relax even more.”

He’s standing up with you almost mechanically, tucking his book into a briefcase you didn’t notice before. There’s a flash of black-and-white print inside of the case, but you don’t get a good look before he shuts it and locks it, smiling at you and offering his hand.

“Well, I can’t allow for a stunning woman such as yourself to walk home alone, yes?”

You’re tempted to say no. You know for a fact this is a decision you’re either going to regret or enjoy, but at the point you are at with knowing him better than some of your own coworkers who you’ve worked beside for years, your better judgment is shelved for an impulse decision.

You take his hand.

“Well, well, Kento, I will take you up on the offer. What a kind gesture to someone who's been staring at you for weeks. How do you know I don’t have terrible intentions?” you ask him as he walks with you to the door, hand in hand. He looks back at you with a smile, crinkling the edges of his eyes.

“I’m quite good at reading people.”

“Need you, Kento.”

The plea comes out as a whine, the blonde man’s head between your thighs as he laps at your center. He looks up at you through his eyelashes, and you feel your obsession roaring in your ears as he smirks against you. “How do you need me, darling?” he whispers, and your hips buck into his face, forcing him to return to sucking on your sensitive clit.

“Anywhere. Everywhere. Forever.” It’s all coming out as senseless babbles, your hands deep in his hair, tugging on the strands and scratching at his scalp as his strong hands hold your legs apart, your thighs twitching against his grip. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing; he doesn’t seem to mind your comments, either, even if they do seem a little intense at the moment. It seems he either knows his effect on you, or he enjoys hearing about it.

The latter makes you wetter just thinking about it.

You’d had him walk you home, sharing a glass of wine on your couch as you discussed your favorite pieces of literature, the books strewn across the floor in the flurry of motion instigated by Kento himself. “Please do not take this the wrong way,” he had whispered, before placing the wine glass on the coffee table, “but I cannot stand staring at your lips and doing nothing about them.”

You’d kissed him then, whiskey and wine and a calming feeling flooding your veins as your lips moved against him, his large hands cupping your face so gently as if he didn’t want to harm you. But little did he know, that was what you craved; you wanted him to devour you, to make you think of nothing but him. If you were hung up on him for the rest of your life, you would be satisfied.

Come and get that honeySweeter than I ever knewTell me that you love meLove me till my lips turn blue

“K-Kento—”

He leans back, his fingers having been added to the mix, squelching as he scissors you open so deliciously well that your back is arching. His thumb, locked onto your clit, keeps it under a steady rhythm as you cry out. Every brush against the sensitive area is tightening that coil in your stomach, your whole body trembling beneath him. You can feel it, the climax roaring into you like a shockwave. “Gonna c—”

He leans over you then, his lips centimeters away from your ear, and growls.

“Cum for me, sweet thing. Cum all over my fingers, I know you can do it.”

The explosion of emotions that comes out of you, the noises, everything feels like a dam bursting as your soaking pussy twitches and drools all over his fingers, dripping onto the couch as you cum harder than you ever have before. The whole world seems to fall away except for Kento’s face, a haloed silhouette, like an angel coming to deliver you from everything that’s harmed you.

He looks down and grins, as if he’s proud of his handiwork, and as he looks back at you, you cannot help but watch him as you ride out your high.

I love you falls from your lips, but he doesn’t bat an eye. He doesn’t even flinch; in fact, his motions only get more aggressive as he fucks you into overstimulation, tears pricking at your eyes and breaking your lashline, sliding down your cheeks.

“Say it again.”

“W-What?” it comes out choked as you shudder underneath him, his fingers only continuing their movements.

“Say it again.”

“I love you?”

“Say it more confidently. Come on, sweet thing.” He sounds exasperated, and in your vulnerable state, all you want to do is please him. Make him want to stay with you, make him live inside of your bones.

“I love you. I will love you forever if you’ll let me, I—”

“Fuck, that’s good,” he whispers as he finally relents, removing his fingers from your center. He doesn’t wipe them on his slacks, however…instead, he chooses to prod at your lips, his other hand brushing away your tears. You obey within a beat, sucking on your own juices underneath him, watching his pupils dilate. His gaze is dark; it’s like his own obsession with you is forming, a mutual delusion you both can share.

His hand removes itself from your mouth, before his belt clinks and you hear the zipper of his pants echo around the room, clearing the post-climax daze and fluff that had been stuffed in your head. You clench as you feel the head of his fat cock brush against your abused opening, and he leans down close to you, his broad, bare chest flush with your own.

“God, you’re everything,” he whispers as he slides in, and your mind goes blank.

If I fall in every time Wicked love will leave me blind Yeah, I knew it I been through it

Oh god Can you make my heart stop? Hit me with your kill shot, baby I mean it, so serious

divider credit: @/benkeibear

networks: @thehoneypotserver @enchantedforest-network

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

© kakuchari 2023-2024

#📩 ari's got mail! #kentophilia #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #jjk x reader #spicy #hooo boy this song was SO delicious to listen to. and research about as well. i love a good obsessive love #📝 ari's autographs

[ohproserpine]

v. deer dolly

see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, heavy warning for violence and bloof, graphic descriptions of injuries, manipulation, allusion to death, grey morality, references to alcoholism, twisted view of love, gorey descriptions of love, murder

"THAT SLAG!"

Velvette's piercing scream echoed through the meeting room, slicing through the air. Vox and Valentino jolted, turning their gazes toward the source of the disturbance.

"Good-for-nothing piece of shit twat assistant!" Velvette paced the room, her movements agitated and frantic as she angrily tapped away on her phone.

In a sudden surge of anger, she flung her device across the room, sending it flying above Valentino's head. A crash punctuated the air as it collided with a window, the impact shattering the glass into shards that rained down onto the floor.

"Velvette, darling," Vox raised an eyebrow, his voice calm as always, "What's got you so worked up?"

He took a sip of his coffee, the rich aroma wafting up from the steaming cup as he idly scrolled through his laptop. "Is it that showgirl situation again?"

"Oh, bloody hell!" Velvette rolled her eyes. "Of course, it is, you git! It's been literally the ONLY thing I've been banging on about this week!"

Valentino's sigh cut through the conversation as he adjusted his sunglasses. Holding his glittering firearm up to his face, he pressed rhinestones on it with tacky glue, unfazed by Velvette's anger.

"It's just some performer, babydoll. We can find a replacement."

"Are you out of your mind?!" Velvette seethed as she stormed toward them, her heels clicking loudly with each step. With a forceful slam of her hands against the table, it shifted forward, jolting the items on its surface. With a hiss of pain, Vox recoiled, his hand jerking back from the scalding coffee he had spilled on himself.

"The boutique opening is in three days! How on earth am I supposed to find a girl who's got the looks and a set of pipes in time?!" she exclaimed.

Valentino looked up from his bedazzling, a raised eyebrow visible above the rim of his sunglasses. "Have you tried one of my models? I got a lot of pretty little chicas who can charm the socks off anyone. No need to stress yourself out."

"Your models? Do you have any idea how much time and effort it's going to take for me to wrangle those little amateurs into something remotely resembling a professional performance?" Velvette scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Sod off!"

Valentino snarled in response but turned away with a huff, muttering under his breath, "Have it your way."

"If I may," Vox spoke, wiping his hand with a grumble, the sting of the burn still lingering. He tilted his head slightly, raising a single brow. "Have you tried scouting?"

"Have I tried scouting?" Velvette mocked, her hands waving around in frustration. "Of course I have! All I've come across are bloody singers around here, and they all look like they've been dragged through the dirt backwards!"

"Well, have you tried the back district?" he offered, tapping his claws on the long glass table. He watched as Velvette pulled out a pocket mirror from her purse, visibly cringing at his suggestion.

"Why in bloody hell would I go there?" Velvette grimaced as she re-applied her dark lipstick. "I'm not about to waste my time scouring the back district for some dime-a-dozen talent. I need someone who's got class, not gutter scraps."

"Well, there's this performer," Vox insisted, snapping his fingers. A screen materialized with a whiz, displaying a video of a figure in a sparkly silver dress singing and dancing. As the video drew to a close, the camera zoomed in, capturing a close-up of the woman's face. Her features were radiant, a smile gracing her lips as she gazed out at the audience.

Velvette snapped her mirror shut with a flick of her wrist, interest sparking in her eyes. She leaned in closer, studying the performer's features.

"Who's this?" she quipped.

"Dolly, at least that's what they call her," Vox hummed, sliding the screen over to Velvette. "She works at Mimzy's Lounge."

Velvette's expression darkened, strands of hair falling over her eyes as she took the screen in her hands, leaning down to view the image again. The glow of the projection illuminated her face, casting shadows that danced across her steely expression.

"Mimzy?" she uttered the name slowly, her lips dripping with venom. "That's the cunt who tore up my best showgirl!"

"Drama," Valentino chuckled, spinning his bedazzled gun around his fingers.

"Well, this Dolly girl is her biggest star, and she's been making quite a name for herself there," Vox drawled, gesturing toward the screen. With a tap of his claw on the screen, he zoomed in closer. "She's got the looks, the voice, and the stage presence you're looking for."

"And she's managed to shine even in the shadow of that cesspool," he added with a sardonic grin as he sipped from his coffee.

A flicker ignited in Velvette's eyes as she straightened. "Then it's settled. I'll pay her a visit."

"Sounds like you've got a plan brewing, my dear. Care for some company?" Vox spoke with a smirk playing on his lips.

Velvette shot him a knowing glance before a grin tugged at the corner of her lips. "Why not? I could use some of your charm."

.

"Cher? Dearest? It's time to get up," the radio atop your bedside table rumbled, your husband's voice crackling through the air.

Grunting in protest, you burrowed deeper into the warmth of your blankets, seeking refuge from the harsh bite of the morning. But Alastor's persistent calls refused to be ignored.

"Mon cœur? Cher? W̷A̴K̶E̴ ̶U̸P̷!̶" it blared, the words amplified by hissing static, demanding attention like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly peeled yourself away from the cocoon of comfort that had enveloped you. Sitting up, you felt the blanket slip from your shoulders, pooling around your hips. Memories of last night flooded in, and the remnants of Alastor's romantic gesture still adorned your room. The bouquet sat atop your dresser, with scattered white roses delicately strewn across your bed like whispers of affection.

Despite the tender atmosphere, a throbbing headache reminded you of an unwelcome guest that accompanied you into the morning—the hangover.

Dragging yourself to the side, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and sat for a moment, rubbing your temples in a futile attempt to ease the discomfort. Then, pushing yourself to your feet, you padded across the room, the cool floorboards sending a shiver through your bare skin. You picked up the radio, its incessant blare akin to an annoying alarm clock, with Alastor's voice still grating on your nerves.

"Alright. Alright. I'm up, love," you grumbled, rubbing at your eyes which still felt thick with sleep.

The radio rumbled with delight at your response.

"Hellish morning to you, my dear!" Alastor's voice boomed through the speakers, his jovial tone slicing through the early morning gloom. Despite your grogginess, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the sound of his voice.

"Hellish morning to you too, darling," you returned, laced with affection.

"I trust you had a restful sleep?" Alastor questioned.

"As restful as one can get with a noisy radio blaring in their ear," you sighed, already feeling the weight of the day bearing down on you.

"Hah!" Alastor laughed, the sound making you roll your eyes. "But where ever would you be without my dulcet tones to serenade you awake?"

"Probably catching a few more precious minutes of sleep," you muttered, already regretting the start of another day. “You are insufferable, you know that?”

"Ah, but that's why you love me."

Back in his hotel room, Alastor chuckled to himself as he shrugged on his suit jacket. From his microphone, he caught the rustling of your clothes, followed by the gentle rush of running water.

With a flick of his wrist, Alastor summoned a gramophone, its boxy form materializing atop his dresser with a soft thud. Soon enough, the needle gently descended onto the spinning vinyl record, releasing a soft, nostalgic melody that filled the room.

I'll never smile again Until I smile at you I'll never laugh again What good would it do?

As Alastor began to sing along, his smooth voice seeping through the rusting speakers of the radio, you paused in the middle of washing your hair, caught off guard by the unexpected serenade.

"Stupid, stupid man," you muttered under your breath with a shake of your head. And yet, despite yourself, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, warmth creeping into your heart.

For tears would fill my eyes My heart would realize That our romance is through

Exiting the bath, you toweled yourself off and approached your wardrobe, humming softly as you selected your attire for the day. After scanning through the hangers, you settled on a vibrant red hooverette dress. With matching stockings and white heels, you completed the look, the final touch being a few roses plucked from the bouquet Alastor had given you, tucked behind your ear.

I'll never love again I'm so in love with you I'll never thrill again To somebody new

Dressed and ready to face the day, you returned to the radio, the soft strains of music and Alastor's voice still lingering in the air. As the final notes faded into silence, you stood for a moment, savoring the fleeting illusion of domestic bliss for a moment longer.

With a pang of sadness, you glanced at the clock, realizing that it was time to go.

"I have to head out now, darling," you spoke into the radio, feeling a tug at your heartstrings. "My shift starts in a while."

"Ah, until we meet again, mon cher," Alastor's voice replied warmly. "Do take care of yourself."

In response, you leaned down to press a kiss against the speakers, a gesture of your affection. The soft sound of the kiss was barely audible, but Alastor's ears perked up and caught the gentle touch against the metal surface. He chuckled softly, then, with a soft click, the radio fell silent.

As you slipped your purse over your shoulder, a thought crossed your mind—should you bring the radio along? The temptation to have Alastor's voice with you throughout the day was strong, but the risk of further damaging the precious device gave you pause. With a sigh, you decided against it, opting to leave it safely in your room, where it would patiently await your return.

Heading out of your room, the lounge was already buzzing with the hustle and bustle of customers and staff. Although no singer graced the stage yet, the speakers blasted with the familiar tunes of Hell’s Top 10 Hits.

"There you are!" Mimzy's voice cut through the lively atmosphere, her smile failing to reach her eyes as she bounded towards you.

"Mimzy," you greeted flatly, acknowledging her with a nod.

"How are ya doin', doll? Just the person I was looking for," she purred with a bat of her eyes. "Alright, listen, I've got a marvelous idea for a performance."

You sighed inwardly, bracing yourself for whatever scheme she had cooked up this time. Mimzy's requests were as extravagant as they were challenging, always pushing the boundaries to maintain her club's "reputation" and squeeze every last dime from these sinners' wallets.

"Let's hear it," you replied, mustering a polite smile.

"So, I was thinking," Mimzy began, tapping her finger along her chin, "how about a duet? A throwback to the good ole days, sharing the spotlight. It's bound to be a performance these wayward fools are going to talk about for ages!"

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the relatively tame suggestion. The blonde wasn't exactly known for her subtlety or restraint when it came to showmanship. At most, a duet with Mimzy was sure to be a spectacle, for better or for worse.

"And when is this going to be held?" you grinned tensely, hands at your hips. There was bound to be a switch somewhere.

"When else? Prime time tonight!" Mimzy giggled as she threw up her hands with a flourish.

And there it was.

"Tonight?" Your eyes widened, shoulders squaring in shock. "Miss Ma'am, that's cutting it a bit close, don't you think?"

"Bushwa! We'll make it work," Mimzy replied dismissively, waving off your concerns with a flick of her hand. "And I've already got the perfect song in mind. It'll be a real humdinger, mark my words."

"Alright," you sighed, hoping for the best but bracing yourself for the chaos that was sure to follow. "Tonight it is."

"That's the spirit! Hell, why don't you take the morning off?" Mimzy grinned as she hurried off down the hallway to make preparations. "I'll see you tonight! Make sure to be here by sunset!"

Standing by the stairs as stiff as a pole, you watched her skip off with an unusually chipper air. It struck you as odd, but you pushed the thought aside, eager to have the morning to yourself. As you turned away, however, your head throbbed once more, the reminder of your hangover cutting through the moment.

"Looks like a ciggy is in order," you muttered to yourself, rubbing at your throbbing temples. Making your way outside, hoping to smoke away the edge of discomfort.

Trudging along the filthy backstreets, you did your best to avoid the muck and other questionable liquids that lined the roadside. The stench of decay hung heavy in the air, assaulting your senses with each step you took.

No one spared you a glance as you passed; the citizens of hell were absorbed in their own pursuits or concerns, and you blended into the backdrop of the grim landscape. 

Finally reaching a clearer stretch of street, you took a seat on one of the benches, the worn wood groaning under your weight. The city bustled around you, a mix of sounds and movements that seemed to blur together.

With a weary sigh, you reached into your bag in search of company—nicotine.

Fingers fumbling through the contents of your purse, you felt the familiar shape of the roll, and with a hum, pulled it out. However, as you continued to rummage through your belongings, a sinking realization settled in.

Your matchbox wasn't there.

Dropping your head into your hands with a scowl, you could feel the stress mounting within you, bubbling up like a simmering pot ready to boil over.

Wallowing in your misfortune, you failed to notice someone approaching you from behind. A sudden tap on your shoulder jolted you, and as you turned, you found yourself face to face with a tall and slender spider-like demon. His frame was practically drowning in a plush white fur coat, the color almost blending into his skin. It contrasted sharply with the sleekness of the black bodycon dress clinging onto his curves underneath.

"Need a light?" he asked casually as he held up a pink-colored lighter.

You eyed him skeptically for a moment.

In hell, kindness often came with a price. Whether it was a favor owed, a debt to be repaid, or simply a hidden agenda waiting to be revealed, nothing came for free. However, when your head throbbed again, you sighed and relented with a nod, accepting the offer despite your reservations.

Angel Dust ignited the lighter, the flame pirouetting gracefully and flickering in the wind. Drawing closer, you leaned in, offering the tip of your cigarette to the flame. With a gentle hiss, the tobacco caught fire, wisps of smoke curling into the air like ethereal dancers. As you took a deep, shaky inhale, the saccharine poison of the smoke flooded your lungs, leaving a bittersweet taste lingering on your tongue. Shutting your eyes, a sense of calm washed over you as you leaned back, letting yourself be carried away by the fleeting tranquility of the moment.

Remembering you had company, you grounded yourself and opened your eyes. "Thank you ever so much, dear. Can I have your name?" you asked, tilting your head up at him. The stranger moved to sit down next to you, the worn wood of the bench creaking under his weight.

"Angel Dust," he said, and your eyes shot wide open, lips forming an 'O' shape.

"The porn star?" you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

"Didn't take you as the type to watch my shit, toots," Angel laughed heartily as his grin widened from ear to ear in response, his golden tooth gleaming at you like a wink.

"Well, I may not be your typical fan, but your name does tend to make its rounds in conversation," you chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. Taking a drag from your cigarette, you gestured with it casually. "I saw you in my husb—erm, the Radio Demon's commercial. Hazbin Hotel, was it?"

"Yeah, and don't worry, I know. Dolly, was it?" Angel Dust replied smoothly, his demeanor surprisingly nonchalant given the situation. Extending his hand for you to shake, he continued, "Nice to finally put a face to the name."

His confession caught you off guard, but you shook his hand firmly nonetheless. "How did you—did Alastor tell you about me? You two must be close."

Angel Dust hesitated, a grimace crossing his features. His crimson eyes darted away briefly, as if weighing his words carefully.

"Let's just say... word gets around in our circles," he replied vaguely, tugging his coat closer around himself.

"I don't know him that well, though," Angel Dust admitted with a shrug, his gaze drifting off momentarily. "Sometimes he can be a bit..."

"A pompous dick with a sadistic streak?" you suggested, exhaling smoke as you raised an eyebrow at Angel Dust, testing the waters.

Angel Dust laughed genuinely, throwing his head back. "Something along those lines, toots," he grinned, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Well, it's good to know I'm not the only one who sees it," you remarked, a wry smile playing on your lips.

"Believe me, ya ain't alone in that," he agreed. "So, ah—What brings ya out here? Aside from the obvious need for a blow."

"Just needed some fresh air," you admitted with a shrug. "Plus, I may have indulged a bit too much last night and woke up feeling like death warmed over."

"I hear ya," Angel Dust replied, nodding sympathetically as he raked his eyes over your worn-out form, noting the slump of your body and the dark circles under your eyes. You looked so different from the sparkly performer he had seen on stage days ago.

"Hey, I actually caught one of ya shows the other night," he piped up, attempting to shift the conversation to a lighter topic.

"Did you?" you cooed, surprise evident in your voice.

"Yeah," Angel nodded, stretching out on the bench, spreading both his arms across the back of the wood. "Gotta say, ya put on quite the show up there. I mean—ya had the crowd eating out of the palm of ya hand."

A faint smile crept onto your cheeks at his praise, a swell of pride rising within you.

"Well, thank you," you bowed your head in gratitude, momentarily forgetting your fatigue in the warmth of his words. "It means a lot coming from someone like you."

Angel Dust waved off your thanks with a casual flick of his hand, lips jutting out in a playful pout.

"Ah, c'mon. I call it like I see it," he grinned with a shrug. "N'trust me, I've seen my fair share of performances."

Lost in the easy flow of conversation, you surrendered to the comfort of the moment, finding solace in the presence of your spider companion. Hours passed, and before you knew it, the sun dipped below the horizon,  painting the park in hues of golden warmth.

A jarring ringtone shattered the moment, causing Angel Dust to glance down at his phone with a whistle. His brows furrowed as he scrolled through a flurry of notifications, irritation flashing across his features.

"As much as I'm enjoying our little chat, duty calls," he sighed, flicking away ash from his cigarette. "Can't keep the boss waiting."

You nodded in understanding, offering a wave as he rose from the bench. "No worries, Angel. Catch you later."

"Looking forward to it, dollface," he replied with a wink before sauntering off into the city streets, leaving you to enjoy the peace alone. After a few minutes of watching the sunset, you decided it was time to go. You stubbed out your cigarette and rose from the bench, making your way out.

As you approached the streets leading to the lounge, the neon lights of the city burst into life, casting vibrant reflections on the pavement. Climbing the stairs to the entrance, you were enveloped by the familiar sights and sounds of the establishment. The air was thick with the scent of perfume and cigarette smoke, mingling with the pulsating rhythm of the music from within.

Mimzy was nowhere to be seen, which came as a welcome relief. And with a last scan to ensure she wasn't lurking anywhere nearby, you made a beeline straight to your dressing room, eager to ready yourself for tonight's performance in peace without a certain blonde talking your ear off.

Taking a seat at the vanity, you began to prepare for the evening ahead, carefully applying your makeup and fixing your hair into place.

A sudden knock broke your routine, prompting you to rise from your seat and stride over to the door. With a quick twist of the knob, you swung it open, revealing an imp demon. White blotches adorned his skin, and he sported sunglasses perched high up on his nose. In his hands, he held up a box, his expression expectant as he waited for your reaction.

"May I help you?" you murmured, tilting your head at him, curiosity coloring your tone.

"Yeah. Are you Dolly?" the imp asked, his tone curt and impatient.

"Yes?" you replied, a brow raised.

"Great. This is for you, lady," he said, thrusting the box of jewelry toward you. "If you could just sign here so I can get the hell out of this shithole, that'd be great."

You accepted the box from the imp demon's outstretched hand, eyeing him warily as he thrust a pen and clipboard in your direction. With a resigned sigh, you reluctantly took the pen and scrawled your signature on the dotted line, handing the clipboard back to him with a curt nod.

"Thanks," he muttered, barely sparing you a glance as he turned on his heel and hurried away, disappearing into the crowded hallway of the club.

Interest piqued, you turned your attention back to the box in your hands. With a gentle touch, you ran your fingers along the surface and lifted the lid of the box. Nestled amidst folds of satin lay a pearl necklace, the orbs gleaming as if moonlight itself was captured and trapped within. At its heart, a rose pendant bloomed, its petals of silver. 

Taken aback, you reached for the small card tucked within the box. Gently retrieving, you turned it around to see the words "From Al" penned gracefully in elegant script.

"Oh, you cheese…"

With a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips, you delicately lifted the necklace from its satin-lined cocoon, feeling the cool weight of the pearls in your palm. As you draped it around your neck, the pendant nestled against your collarbone.

Feeling as giddy as a teenager in love, you turned away from the vanity, your heart fluttering with excitement. With a skip in your step, you crossed the room to the wardrobe, fingers dancing over the array of neatly hung dresses.

Before your fingers could grasp onto a dress, a sudden deafening explosion tore through the air. The sound was thunderous, shaking the walls and causing the ground beneath your feet to tremble violently. The shockwave slammed into you with palpable force, knocking you off balance and sending you crashing to the floor amidst a cloud of dust and debris.

Alarm flashed across your features as your heart pounded in your chest, the adrenaline coursing through your veins like a raging river. With trembling hands, you pushed yourself up from the ground.

What in hell was that?

Staggering to your feet, you ran out into the lounge. As the dust settled, you could see the entrance of the lounge now reduced to a gaping maw, the doors blown open by the force of the explosion. The familiar sights and sounds of the club were replaced by a scene of utter devastation, with debris strewn haphazardly across the floor and smoke billowing out into the night air.

Two ominous figures cast dark shadows amidst the panicked frenzy of staff and customers.

Struggling to discern the figures amidst the chaos, you squinted, trying to make out the details. One of them was a slender demon, dressed immaculately, with cedar-brown skin and long, fiery red curls tied into neat pigtails.

A sinking feeling settled in your chest as you recognized her as one of Hell's infamous overlords. Your heart plummeted further as you caught sight of Mimzy, ensnared in Velvette's vice-like grip, fear twisting her features as she struggled against her captor.

But it was the presence of the figure behind Velvette that truly sent a shiver down your spine.

The TV Demon, Vox.

His gaze swept over the room with a detached coldness, as if the pandemonium were of little consequence. Suddenly, his icy eyes locked onto yours, freezing you in place.

"Mimzy, dear," Vox's voice buzzed with deceptive sweetness as he addressed the shaking blonde. "Why don't you go and have a little chat with your esteemed employee about our... conditions?"

Wide-eyed with fear, Mimzy frantically nodded, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

"Make it quick," Velvette scoffed, releasing her grip on Mimzy's throat. The blonde stumbled toward you, her movements shaky and unsteady.

"What is—" you started, but Mimzy cut you off, panic evident as she began to drag you backstage. Without a moment's hesitation, she pushed you into your dressing room, swiftly locking the door behind you.

"Mimzy, what in hell is going on out there?" you demanded, leaning down to her height and shaking her by the arms.

Mimzy's breaths came in ragged gasps as she leaned against the door, her eyes wide with terror. She struggled to find her words, her entire figure trembling as she tried to compose herself.

"It's Velvette," she finally managed to choke out.

"Why is she here? What does she want from us?" you pressed, urgency creeping into your tone as you searched Mimzy's face for answers. But her response only added to your unease.

"You need to go with them," Mimzy decided abruptly.

"Go with who? What are you talking about?" you asked, your voice turning breathless with disbelief.

"She's out for payback, see? And she won't stop until she gets it," Mimzy explained, her tone grave yet determined, like she had some ace up her sleeve. "I gotta level the playing field, doll. She wants a replacement, and she's chosen you."

"I can't just go along with this!" your voice rose to a shout as you began to shake her again, nails digging into the chiffon of her glove. "My contract with you ends in a year. If I go with them, I'll be their pawn for all of eternity!"

"I can't just risk Velvette destroying everything I've built!" Mimzy defended herself, her tone devoid of remorse. "Do you have any idea how much work it took for me to get this place running?!"

Anger surged within you, fueled by betrayal and fear. "What about me? What about Alastor?"

"Oh, him again!" Mimzy shook her arms away from your grip and pushed herself off the door. "You've been so obsessed with that radio fool, you've forgotten who's been with you since the very start! Ever since you got hitched to him, you stopped caring about a damn thing!"

"I cared! And I still bloody well care, Mimzy!" you shot back, your voice rising with anger. Your eyes blazed with fire, cracks beginning to form on your face as your demon form threatened to break free. "But you were an empty, hollow shell of a woman with naught in her head but money! You'd sell out anyone, even me, to get what you want!"

Mimzy recoiled slightly, her façade momentarily cracked by your words. "You-You think you're any better? Running off with your precious Alastor, pretending like he's the savior of your life. But I know you've heard his broadcasts. I know you've seen the news. He's no better than me, playing you like a puppet while hiding behind his façade of being a good man!"

Enraged, you lunged forward, tackling her against the wall. As fury consumed you, your form contorted and twisted, taking on a monstrous semblance. Your features morphed, sharpening into angular lines, while cracks spiderwebbed across your skin like shattered porcelain. Limbs stretched and warped, turning jagged and broken, resembling the joints of a marionette. Teeth elongated into razor-sharp fangs, and as you bared them in a snarl, your lips curled back in a grotesque mockery of a mouth. "Say that again! I fucking dare you!"

"I'll say it as many times as I damn well please!" Mimzy spat, her voice trembling as she locked eyes with your hollow gaze. "Until you get it through your fucking thick, cracked skull!"

The blonde's hand darted to a nearby object, seizing hold of a picture frame within reach. With sudden, fierce motion, she swung it, the weighty wood and glass connecting with your transformed flesh in a sickening thud.

"Mph—!" Biting your lip to stifle a scream, you staggered backward. Thick blood dripped from the wound, pooling on the floor and mingling with the cracks in your porcelain-like skin.

"You've got some nerve!" Mimzy's voice thundered as she stood over you, her pale face flushing crimson with anger. "You wanted that fame, and I made it happen. Now you don't?! Fuck! Some ungrateful brat you are! Willing to throw it all away for some man! Do you really think what he feels for you is love?!"

As Mimzy's tirade continued, her words cutting through the haze of pain and anger, a sense of disorientation washed over you. Her words struck a nerve, stirring up memories that you had long tried to suppress.

.

Rain poured down, drenching your hunched form. The world around you blurred into a chaotic whirlwind of colors and shapes, disorienting and suffocating. 

Beneath the fabric of your dress, your knees throbbed painfully, raw from the harsh scrape against unforgiving concrete. Your hands desperately fumbled in the darkness, searching for something to anchor yourself to. Then, finally, your fingertips brushed against the familiar texture of rusting metal.

With a ragged sigh of relief, you realized you had found the gate of your house. Summoning all your remaining strength, you clasped both hands around the cold, wet metal bars and attempted to pull yourself up.

Through the haze, you felt rough hands sneak around your waist, and as your vision cleared slightly, your husband's face emerged from the blur. His once impeccable suit now clung to him like a second skin, soaked through by the downpour. Strands of his usually neat hair stuck to his forehead, dampened and dripping onto his glasses. Cursing like a sailor under his breath, he scooped you up into his arms, expression turning tense as he felt the icy chill of your body against his own.

If you weren't moving he would have thought you a corpse.

"Cher?" Alastor's voice cut through the fog in your mind, but your response was sluggish, your gaze glassy and dilated. "Merde. Did you drag yourself here all alone?"

Without waiting for an answer, he moved, cradling you in his arms as he hurried back toward your house. Once inside, he wasted no time in laying you down on the sofa.

"Al," you finally spoke, whimpering softly as you raised a shaky hand towards him. Alastor immediately moved towards you, hushing your cries as he pressed a deep kiss on your lips.

Your husband moved to cradle your face in his rough hands, and what he saw shattered whatever fragments of his heart were still intact. Bruises and dried blood stained your body, your skin clammy and pale. Streaks of mascara carved paths down your tear-stained face, and your limbs twitched involuntarily. The taste of whiskey still lingered on your lips, and the fearful haze in your eyes mirrored the terror of a rabbit cornered by a wolf.

"Who did this to you?" he growled, his pupils dilating with anger as he knelt before you, gently slipping your torn stockings and muddy heels off your feet.

"Mimzy," you sobbed out, curling into yourself, the weight of it all feeling too heavy on your shoulders.

"I tried to quit. She didn't let me. The bar. She gave me a drink. More and more. I couldn't stop. I was just so upset." Your words were fragmented, broken by the wrenching sobs that shook your fragile form, vulnerability laid bare before him.

"Mon cœur," Alastor hushed, rubbing circles into your ankle with his thumb. "Calm down. Take your time."

You made an effort, though the first few attempts were shallow and rushed. Eventually, you managed to draw in a deep breath, releasing it in a rush before taking another. And another.

"That's it, my dear. Now, what happened?"

Summoning all your strength, you opened your mouth and began to recount the harrowing events of the night.

Earlier this evening, you had mustered up enough courage to hand in your resignation letter to Mimzy. However, her reaction was far from pleasant. An argument erupted, filled with less than savory words being thrown around like daggers.

Before you knew it, Mimzy's rage boiled over, and she tackled you, raining blows upon you with a fury that bordered on madness, beating you with an inch of your life. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.

Her demeanor shifted drastically, morphing from a raging storm into a gentle breeze. With a sickening sweetness, she offered you a hand up, as if nothing had happened. Weak and disoriented, you allowed her to lead you to her private bar, where she poured drink after drink, urging you to indulge.

As per habit, you found yourself consuming the alcohol with reckless abandon, the burning liquid dulling the pain and blurring the edges of reality

Alastor's heart clenched at the anguish in your voice, his expression darkening with a mixture of concern and simmering anger. Slowly, he rose from his seat and lifted you onto his lap, cradling you gently in his arms.

Taking your hand in his, he leaned in close, his voice a soft murmur.

"Let me take care of everything, doll," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. "She won't ever bother you again."

The tenderness in his voice caused your breath to hitch, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to fall into the reassurance of his presence. It offered a fleeting sense of security amidst everything surrounding you. Yet, slowly as the puzzles fell into pieces, a gnawing sense of dread clawed at your insides.

"Alastor, no," you whimpered, withdrawing your hands and pressing them against his chest, pushing him away with trembling fingers. "Please don't tell me it means what I think it does."

Your gaze pleaded with him, searching his eyes for any sign of reassurance, any glimmer of hope that what you feared was not true. However, your husband's smile remained unchanged—comforting yet chilling—as he pressed another kiss to the corner of your lips.

"I would kill for you," Alastor murmured against your skin, his thumb tracing the contours of your wedding ring. Bending down, he pressed a tender kiss against the golden band, sealing his vow with the promise of bloodshed, lips lingering against the cool metal. As he drew back, you found yourself ensnared by the intensity of his gaze, pools of brown reflecting a manic fervor.

"Please let me kill for you."

Tears blurred your vision as you bowed your head, the weight of his words sinking deep into your soul. You knew Alastor's devotion knew no bounds. Whether it meant causing pain, shedding blood, or delving into the darkest corners of his being, he would do it for you without a moment's hesitation.

A warmth trickled down your cheeks with each blink, tracing a path along your skin. Your eyes burned fiercely, tears cascading down your flushed cheeks and silently dripping from your chin like dewdrops. As you attempted to draw deep breaths, your body shook with a desperation to escape, though you couldn't quite grasp what it was you were fleeing from.

A ragged sound echoed through the room, grating against your senses. It took you a moment to register that the noise came from your own lungs, your breaths torn and jagged as they struggled to find a rhythm.

"Okay," you whispered, the weight of that single word heavy with the burden of guilt and a future tinged with blood.

There was a soft chuckle, accompanied by the gentle touch of a hand moving to caress your cheeks. "Good girl."

.

Snapping back to the present, you found yourself staring at Mimzy as she raged around the room, her fury unleashed on the surroundings, wrecking anything and everything in her path.

A man who kills for you. A man who dirties his hands for you. Is that not love?

A kick from her sent your vanity toppling over, causing bottles of your perfume and whiskey to crash from its surface. The glass shattered upon impact, releasing splintering sounds that pierced your ears. As the bottles broke, the air filled with the pungent scent of flora, mingling with the rich aroma of spilled whiskey.

It must be love.

With a hand trembling from adrenaline, you ran your fingers through your hair, the sticky feeling of blood staining your palm. Rising unsteadily to your feet, you turned to face Mimzy, strands of damp, bloodied hair falling over your cracked porcelain face.

"You ornery washed-up bitch," you rasped out in a laugh, voice breathless and laced with venom. "I should have left you to rot in that forest."

Mimzy froze, her wide eyes locked on you.

"What did you say to me?" she seethed, her voice trembling with anger as she extended her hand toward the shattered liquor glass and the spilled liquid, her fingers curling into fists.

With a flick of her wrist, the whiskey began to swirl and solidify, forming chains that snaked around your limbs, binding you in place. Your muscles tensed against the restraints as Mimzy manipulated you like a puppeteer. Slowly, you reverted back to your regular form, forced to your knees before her.

The blonde bent down, her grip firm on your face, nails digging deep into your skin as she pulled your head up to face her. "You're here because of me! Everything you've ever achieved was because of me! I made you a star, and this is how you repay me?!"

You recognized the anger in her tone, but beneath it lurked a deeper pain and desperation. The poor gal was fighting to reclaim control over a situation slipping through her grasp.

A sudden knock at the door startled Mimzy, causing her to tense. The door creaked open to reveal the imposing figure of Vox filling the doorway. As he entered the room, a wave of static filled the air, crackling and sending goosebumps cascading over your skin. His gaze swept over the scene, taking note of your restraints and bloodied head before settling on Mimzy.

"What is the meaning of this?" 

Under Vox's gaze, Mimzy's confident demeanor faltered, replaced by a nervous tremor in her voice. "I-I was just… settling some unfinished business, mistah," she stammered, attempting to regain her composure.

"You've just damaged the merchandise, sweetheart," Vox stated matter-of-factly, gesturing to you with a wave of his hand. "And we can't have that, now can we?"

With a casual snap of his fingers, the wires from the stage lights above writhed and twisted, tearing free from the ceiling with a deafening creak. They snaked through the air like serpents, wrapping around Mimzy's torso and dragging her away from you with a forceful yank.

With Mimzy taken care of, Vox then turned his attention to you.

"Dolly, was it?" he smiled, voice disarming. "I've got to say, I have always wanted to see you up close."

"You've seen me," you replied with a cold edge to your voice, slowly backing away and pressing yourself against the wall. "I'm here."

"Charmed," Vox smiled, his gaze heating as he drank you in, every detail of you like candy to his eyes. As Vox strode towards you, you instinctively curled into yourself, shrinking back deeper against the wall. He chuckled softly, noticing your reaction, and halted his advances. Instead, he took a seat on the cushion by your toppled vanity, glowing eyes locked onto you.

Pretty Dolly Heart.

Your lips were painted a vivid red, pouting slightly in a frown. Damp, glossy curls framed your face, shimmering in the light and tempting him to reach out and run his fingers through them. Rivulets of blood marred your temple, staining the delicate white flowers nestled into your hair.

The TV Demon was interested in you, and he wouldn't let go until he went home with you tonight, that much was clear.

"I have a deal in mind," Vox turned to Mimzy with a look in his eyes that screamed trouble. "Are you willing to trade your soul for hers?"

Your blood ran cold with fear.

"As Velvette and I are business partners, our souls contracts are intertwined. I'm sure there would be no issue if you signed the deal with me instead," he added with a chuckle, his eyes swirling with a dangerous allure.

Panic clawed at your insides, urging you to flee from the impending doom that loomed before you. But rooted to the spot by fear, you found yourself unable to move.

"Yes! A-Absolutely!" Mimzy's words shattered the heavy silence, her voice trembling with desperation as she nodded frantically. Her eyes remained nervously glued to the crackling electricity of the torn wires still wrapped around her, the fear in her gaze mirroring your own.

With a clap of his hands, Vox conjured a new contract and a strong burst of wind swept through the room, ruffling curtains and causing objects to tremble on their surfaces. Blue light flooded the walls, casting eerie shadows and filling the room with an ominous glow. The atmosphere crackled with electricity, every hair on your body standing on end as if charged with static energy.

A tablet materialized and floated before you, its screen pulsing with a faint, golden glow.

"Make her sign here, and it'll be done," Vox instructed, his voice carrying an air of finality as he handed Mimzy a stylus, tapping his clawed finger along the screen of his tablet.

With a trembling hand, Mimzy took the stylus and held it out for you, the strings of her magic wrapping around your limbs once again. You attempted to shout out, but Mimzy's magic stitched your lips shut, leaving you unable to utter a sound.

Helpless, you watched as your hand was forced to reach out and take the pen into your grasp, your fingers moving against your will as Mimzy guided them to sign the contract. With each stroke of the pen, a wave of despair washed over you, a muffled sob bubbling from your throat as your name appeared on the screen, sealing your fate.

Vox's grin widened, a glint of triumph dancing in his eyes as he held up your old paper contract with Mimzy, the words now rendered meaningless. With a swift motion, he tore it to shreds, the sound of paper ripping echoing through the tense silence of the room.

"Welcome to VoxTek, Dolly."

#next chapter will explain all of their background :DD #sephiewrites #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel vox

[duuhrayliegh]

consequences

a/n: I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THIS CAME FROM BUT HERE YOU GO

also i'm more than happy to continue this if yall want more, just LET ME KNOW

other works

“You want to what?"

"To open our relationship."

You stare at him in disbelief, clutching the soft blanket in your hands. There's a sharp ringing sounding through your eardrums and everything around you slows. He keeps talking, his voice breaking through the barrier of fog that encompasses your senses.

"I want us to remain honest with each other, but this is the only way to keep our relationship healthy."

He steps away from the kitchen counter, wearing the sports jacket you bought him for your sister's wedding.

"I want the both of us to disclose when we start dating someone else. That's the main boundary, we can hammer out all the ground rules later. Right now, I'm going on a date, so uh," he pauses as he checks his reflection in the mirror beside the door one last time, "don't wait up."

You try to focus on his words, but no matter your efforts you weren't able to process anything. His keys jangle in his grip and you faintly recognize the sound of the door slamming closed and his footsteps echoing down the empty corridor of your apartment.

"I still can't believe he said that to you."

The singular ice ball hits against the sides of your glass with each tilt of your wrist. You take a long drag of the dark liquor before laughing sardonically.

"It's been six months of him parading his dates around." Another sip, your work skirt digs into your thighs painfully. You distract yourself by reaching for a peanut from the nearly empty bowl. "And what's worse is that he still expects me to be the doting wife that he comes home to every night!"

The bartender refills your glass while you sneak another peanut. You card your fingers through your hair as you continue to rant. A dull throb radiates in between your brows so your eyes slide closed as you take deep breaths.

"Well, I can't imagine you're doing so bad yourself."

You hum questioningly at the man, focusing your gaze on the dark-haired bartender, his stubble dusting his sharp jaw as the muscles work beneath the skin. His eyes haven't left you since you sat down in front of him.

"I see you in here." You begin to pick at the skin around your nails and he nudges a bowl of peanuts in your direction. "Men come up to you all the time. You've been on dates too, right?"

You reach for a peanut and crack open the grainy shell, biting the inside of your cheek. Your bartender laughs incredulously and then presses his hands into his side of the counter to lean over toward you. The cloth he tosses over his shoulder must be damp because the fabric of his white button-up is darkened there.

"Focus on me, Peanut."

Your eyes snap to his, unable to keep the overflow of expression from brimming beneath the surface. Your heart cracks further as he visibly softens, crumpling against the counter to cover your hand with his. A tense silence stretches between the two of you, charging the air with unwelcome emotions.

Your bartender’s spare hand cups your jaw and swipes away the glistening tears fleeing down your cheeks. Sniffling loudly while straightening in your seat, you pull away from his touch—effectively stopping yourself from melting into him.

You’ve worked so hard to make this shitty dive bar your safe place, you’ll be damned if you ruin it with a fling.

“I don’t even know why I’m wasting tears on this whole thing.” You take three deep breaths—whiskey and apples invade your senses. The man in front of you tilts his head to the side while drying a few crystal glasses.

“You’re avoiding my question, Peanut.” He turns briefly and you try to figure a way out as the cups clink softly. “You have been dating too, right?”

Your teeth trap your bottom lip, peeling off the thin layers of skin. You purposely avoid his eyes, doing less than nothing to hide your answer.

“Jesus, Peanut. What’s stopping you?”

You huff, focusing your attention on the patrons around you. There’s noticeably less than there were when you first arrived. The bar guests go about their business, underlying emotions kept close to their chest and out of sight to everyone else. You wish you could be that way, instead of sewing your heart to your sleeve for anyone to rip pieces from.

“I--" You hesitate, twirling your glass, watching as the ice fights to keep up with the sudden movements you force on its surroundings.

"Some small part of me still loves him. No matter how much he hurts me with this whole open relationship bullshit. I'm still thinking that one day he'll wake up and remember that I've been his loving wife and partner for the past six years. This can't be my new reality. It just can't. He's meant to be my partner for life, not my partner who has really good friends. Not my partner with a girlfriend or some fuck buddy across town."

This is the can of worms that you'd hoped to keep locked away from the Commando's dive bar. What you've held close to your chest every night you slink past the blonde bouncer, Steve. The information you never let slip to the six-foot-five bartender with the metal arm. And now, you can't seem to stop the words from leaving your mouth.

"He's supposed to be my husband. Why isn't he my husband? Is it me? He said that we would talk about what the reason was, but I can't get him to sit down with me. I can't even get him to reply to a text, much less answer questions about our relationship."

You spit the last word before downing the rest of your drink in one go. Bucky stands patiently as you let loose every emotion that you've bottled up for the past six years. Further in the bar, someone shouts for the last call.

"Why don't I date? Because I love him. Because outside of him, I don't know who I am. I don't date because I've been with the same man for almost a decade and I wouldn't even know where to begin. I can't see past where I'm at right now. There is no future for me outside of the hell that I find myself in now. I can't date because I want to be there for when my husband remembers that I exist. I want to be there for him like he wasn't for me because I know the novelty of his flings will wear off soon enough. And maybe that makes me worse than him, but I don't know if I have the energy to care anymore."

There's now a heavy silence covering you and your whole body slumps because of it. Despite feeling the biggest breath of relief of getting those emotions out in the open, you now have to deal with what they mean. You were always taught that saying your emotions out loud would only lead to more issues, but here you fucking are. Sometimes these things are unavoidable.

"I call bullshit."

Your jaw drops as your bartender rocks away from the counter. You flounder as he starts performing closing duties. You stare at Bucky's back, slightly distracted by the muscles working underneath the tight material.

"Did you just bullshit my feelings?"

Bucky turns halfway, eyebrows raised, "Yep."

Your bartender plucks the glass in front of you and drops it in the sink on his way to the cash register. If you were in a whole state, you'd smack back with a witty comment, but you're tired.

"You can't bullshit my feelings."

He holds a stack of twenties in one hand and he pins you with the same expression as before.

"Uh, yeah I can."

He continues to count the register and tosses a goodbye to the other bartender. A long lull stretches between you. Now it's just the two of you in the bar, and that must have been what he was waiting on because it's only now that he really talks.

"Peanut, how long have you been coming here?"

You furrow your brow at the question, not sure where he's taking his line of questioning.

"I don't know, four months?"

“Four months, twenty days."

Bucky's retort is quick and final. A fact. Something he's committed to memory. You're taken aback by the heavy tone he layers between the syllables.

"And for those four months and twenty days, I've stood behind this counter and watched you wallow. I've watched you turn down proposition after proposition. I've had Steve throw out dozens of men for how they speak about you. I've sat back and tried to be the listening ear that you need because you're clearly going through a really difficult time. I've never been in the position that you're in and I'm not going to pretend that I understand the half of it."

He slams the drawer closed and rounds the countertop. His boots thud against the floor violently, stopping beside the barstool next to you. Your bartender leans down and swings your stool to face his before taking a seat.

"I've stood behind that bar and was able to listen to quite a bit. But what I can't have is you thinking that you're the issue."

His hand slips into yours, his thumb tracing the knuckles of your fingers. Tears begin to brim at your waterline again, but you refuse to let them fall.

"Peanut, you're the most loyal person I've met in recent years. You love fiercely and you hurt even harder. Hell, you've been with this guy for almost ten years and he's been fucking you over for the past six months and you're sitting in this bar defending him to a relative stranger!"

"But he--"

"You're husband took the decision away from you and then framed it in a way that made you out to be the bad guy. He put you in a nearly impossible situation because he knew you were too loyal to him to do anything about it."

"He didn--"

"Yes, he did."

Having it laid out like that by the one person you wanted to be kept away from all of it was eye-opening. Your shoulders crumple and a new wave of tears threatens to escape.

"Now, this isn't the best time, but I feel like in a situation like yours there's never going to be a 'right' time."

Bucky sits up straighter and sticks his metal hand out to you.

"Hi. I'm Bucky Barnes. I'm a retired Army Sergeant and I now work in the Howling Commandos bar. I've been your bartender for the past four months and twenty days. Over that time, I've grown to care for you, more than a bartender should. Because of that fact, I want to take you out on a date."

You suck in a breath sharply, immediately going to deny him, only for Bucky to cut you off.

"You don't have to give me an answer right now, Peanut. Just think about it and whenever you're ready, I hope I'm your first call."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, gnawing on the idea. You have grown fond of Bucky. He's become a sort of safety net for you these past few months. Going home has proven to be more and more of a chore so you spend hours on end in the Howling Commandos.

What if you and Bucky go on a date and you hate it? What if you date and you have a huge falling out? What if you--

"I can see the wheels turning, Peanut." He taps your temple with a cold metal finger. "What are you thinking?"

"What if we end up not working out?"

"What if we do?"

The question hangs. The implication is clear. You could spend hours going through the what-if scenarios, both positive and negative. You'll never truly know until you take a leap of faith.

"What would your boss think of you dating one of your new regulars though?"

You're grasping at straws, but you're really trying to convince yourself that taking that leap with Bucky would be the worst thing in the world.

"Peanut, I'll sell the damn bar before someone other than you tells me that I can't date you."

Your eyes meet his and all you can see is the adoration and sincerity in them. His thumb is still working over your knuckles, but it's also expanded to tracing aimless circles into the back of your hand. The cool metal is the only way you've grounded yourself to reality.

A slow smile spreads across your features, the first of its kind tonight and you both know what it means.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bartender!bucky #bartender!bucky x reader #bartender!bucky barnes x reader #seb stan #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #seb stan character #seb stan x reader #sebastian stan x reader #bartender!bucky x you #bartender!bucky x peanut!reader

[strawhbrrries]

Starin' Problem.

pairing: dbf!no outbreak!joel miller x afab!reader

summary: a red dress and a glass of whiskey is all it took for Joel to lose every ounce of self control he once had.

warnings: porn no plot, female pronouns, age gap (both consenting adults), unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, slight creep joel, daddy kink, breeding kink...,mean joel, dirty talk, praise!!!, no use of y/n or descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 1.3k words

recommended listening: granite by sleep token

authors note: i'm pretty sure I had planned for this to take place at reader's parent's wedding but i never specified so it's just some fancy event they planned lmfao, enjoy &lt;333

“Quit starin’.” Your father whispered into Joel’s ear, following his eyes to you, his daughter, across the room. “Let's not have a problem tonight.”

“I ain’t.” Joel grunted, taking a sip of the whiskey in his hand as he continued to watch you. “We won’t have any problems.”  

He’d spent most of the night trying to decide if you’d worn any underwear under the dress, with a slit that ended right under your hip he was convinced you weren’t but then you’d turn a specific way and he swore he could make out a line. The low neckline left nothing to the imagination and only added to the torture you were putting Joel through at the hands of fashion, he never knew he could be so turned on by someone your age but here he was with a rock hard cock, staring like a creep.

“Whoever that guy with your dad is has been staring at you all night.” One of the girls you’d been standing with spoke, a hint of jealousy in her voice. 

You turned your head around, making eye contact with Joel, and looking him up and down. You couldn’t deny the attraction you had for him, and the dark red suit your father had picked out to match the same red of the dresses your mom had picked out wasn’t helping at all. He looked you up and down before making eye contact with you again, taking another sip of his whiskey, and twirling a finger around. 

“Joel? He’s probably on a secret mission to keep an eye on me.” You joked, acting like you had stepped on your dress as an excuse to spin around without anyone suspecting anything. 

“He can keep an eye on me.” A different girl responded, giggling as they continued to joke about him.

He could’ve orgasmed right then and there as you spun around, the two of you hadn’t spoken all night and yet here you were entertaining him. His glass of whiskey was almost empty, if he played his cards right maybe he’d be able to get you alone, away from the annoying girls you’d been around all night. 

You watched him glance at his glass before heading off to what you assumed was the kitchen, he hadn’t made any signal for you to follow but this was your moment. 

“What would my dear father think if he knew his best friend was eyeing up his daughter?” You whispered, coming up behind Joel and dragging your nails down his back. 

“Does his dear daughter care?” Joel whispered back, setting his glass down and turning around to face you. “Seemed like you quite enjoyed it.”

He trailed a finger over the neckline of your dress, hooking it under the fabric and exposing one of your breasts. A low groan escaped his throat, accompanied by him fixing his suit pants. His fingers found your nipple, rolling and tugging it slightly. 

“Seems to me you’re enjoying it a whole bunch.” He chuckled, using his other hand to tilt your chin up, leaning down so your lips were inches apart.

“Fuck, Joel-” 

He smashed his lips against yours, swallowing every whimper escaping your lips, pulling the other side of your dress down to expose both breasts. Your hands made quick work of unbuttoning his suit jacket, pulling it off of him and throwing it on the floor, before moving to his dress shirt. 

“Naughty girl, lettin’ some old man touch you in a kitchen at your parent’s party.” He spoke against your lips, shoving your dress down to your hips and taking a step back to admire you. “God you’re fuckin’ pretty.” 

“Joel, please.” You whined, grabbing at the last few buttons left on his shirt desperately as if it was going to get them unbuttoned faster.

“I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already beggin’. Fuckin’ whore.” He chuckled, helping you unbutton his shirt and tossing it to the side with his jacket. “Need some dick, huh?” 

You shook your head, shoving the rest of the dress over your hips and onto the floor, grabbing his head and smashing your lips back together. His fingers danced their way down your skin, memorizing every bump and curve in the chance that he wouldn’t get to do this again, making their way under your thighs and lifting you onto the counter behind him. 

He trailed a finger up and down your folds, gathering your wetness and bringing it to his mouth, groaning at the taste. The sensation of his finger slowly pushing in and out was so overwhelming, you were practically floating on cloud nine and there was nothing you’d change about it.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” Joel rasped, lips pressed up against your ear, removing the rest of his clothing. “Tell daddy how bad you need it.”

“Daddy, please…fuck- need it so bad.” Your words were barely audible, desperate and whiny.

The feeling of his cock pushing inside of you had you throwing your head back, hand slapped over your mouth to muffle any and all noise he’d pull out of you. He pulled back out slowly, watching your pussy grip his cock as he pushed back in. Forbidden sex had never felt so good, he’d find any and every reason to visit you after tonight if he could experience this again. His beard scratched against your neck as he bent over, pulling your body closer to him, sucking and biting at the skin he could reach. 

“God, I could make you a fuckin’ mom.” Joel groaned, leaning his head further into the crook of your neck. “Look so fuckin’ pretty, full of my babies.”

“Daddy-”

“That’s right, say my name, baby.” He switched the arm that was bearing your weight and brought the newly freed hand to your hair, tugging it back enough so he could see your face. 

His hips pistoned in and out, cock reaching places you didn’t even know it could, but if you told him that he’d make a joke about you not sleeping with a real man like him. He placed wet kisses down your neck and all the way down to your nipples, sucking on them in turns. 

“Joel, please, I’m so close..” You cried, eyes filled to the brim with tears that threatened to spill at any moment.

“That’s too damn bad, because that’s not my name.” He chuckled, evilly, wiping away the tears that had slid down your cheeks. “Try again, I know you can do it, baby.”

“Daddy, daddy please.” 

“Good girl.” 

He brought his thumb down to your clit, drawing figure eights in time with his thrusts, coaxing your orgasm right out of you. You slumped into him as it hit you, body shaking as it made its way through you. He continued to thrust into you, chasing his own white, hot high. Your small whimpers as you came back to the world was enough to send Joel over the edge, painting your insides a nice milky white. His own body slumping into yours as he recovered from the pleasure. 

“Did such a good job, darlin’.” He praised, smoothing your hair down as you continued your way out of cloud nine. “Did so good for me.”

You gave him a weak smile, smoothing the hairs that were stuck to his sweaty forehead back to their spot. He sat you back down on the counter and filled his glass up with water before handing it to you, the aftertaste of whiskey was enough to perk you right up. 

Joel helped you back into your dress, fixing your hair to cover the hickeys that were soon to appear, sliding your underwear back up but making sure to push his cum back inside of you before sliding them all the way up.

“C’mon, we got speeches to make.”

#maddies fics #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #pedro x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom

[lokischocolatefountain]

Warning || Men Like Me

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

That was where his troubles began. 

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

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

“Lemonade, Mister Miller?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Depends. Do you like it?” 

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

“Well then yes, I did make it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh well. Nothing I can’t learn.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wrong, wrong, wrong. 

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

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

Fucking disgusting. 

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

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

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

Yet there was something about Joel that was more entrancing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You alright, sweetheart?” 

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

“‘m alright, Mister Miller.” 

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

Oh fuck, his fucking arms!

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

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

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

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

“That so?” he asked, eyebrow raised. 

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

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

“Thanks. I’m actually eighty-two.” 

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

“Old. Fifty six.” 

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

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

“I’m not a doctor yet.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now tell me. What d’ya need fixed?” 

⌘⌘⌘

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He should leave. 

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

He should leave. 

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

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

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

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

“Fuu– mmm Joel, pleeease.”

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

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

No, it couldn’t be anyone else. 

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

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

“J-Joel?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Touch me!” 

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

“Touching yourself to a Playboy magazine, huh?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Any man?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuuuck! Joel– I– I– hnnng–”

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

“Please… I don’t– what was that?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel…” 

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

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

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

“Be a good girl from now.” 

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

⌘

Part 2

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