#let me be a little salty alright | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

proxima-writes · 7 months

Text

𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit

word count: 4.1k

summary: joel agrees to go out to tommy’s favorite bar, where he watches you ride a mechanical bull and wishes you would ride him.

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, dual POV, no defined reader age or physical appearance besides outfits, alcohol use, joel getting slapped, tommy is a little shit, first date anxiety, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, praise, pet names, girl on top, couch sex, unprotected p in v, teasing, deep throating, more men whimpering and begging 2k23. let me know if any warnings are missing!

author’s note: look, i know i’m in the middle of my spooky specials but i saw two very specific tik toks that left me with the need to write this 😵‍💫 also this post layout is inspired by @bits-and-babs, whose works and aesthetic are chef’s kiss.

“Why did you pick this place?” Joel grumbles, hand wrapped around a sweating bottle of beer. People keep jostling him as they squeeze past, forcing him to keep his elbow tight to his side to avoid having his beer be collateral damage.

“You’ll see,” Tommy says with a cryptic wink. Joel rolls his eyes.

Tommy has dragged him out to a saloon style bar, complete with swinging wooden doors and longhorn skulls decorating the walls. Everything is shiny dark wood and western motif, down to the saddle style barstools. Most of the patrons have leaned into the theme, too — tassels, leather, cowboys hats, and ostentatious belt buckles.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen!” A man’s voice calls out over the speakers. “The show is about to begin!”

“Show?” Joel asks dubiously. Tommy only grins at him, dragging him by the arm towards the back of the bar.

He weaves through the crowd until they’re only behind a few rows of people that have gathered around a mechanical bull riding ring, of all things. The floor of the ring is inflatable and in the middle sits the brown bull figure. Joel catches his first glimpse of you, a gorgeous woman in denim cut offs standing beside the bull. Your black leather halter top plunges low to expose your cleavage and stops short of the waist of your shorts, a tantalizing strip of your stomach on display. The black leather of the top matches your black leather boots and the cuffs snapped around your wrists.

“One of Salty Saloon’s very own has stepped up to take the bull by the horns tonight!”

You lift a hand to wave, bright smile on your face as you take in the crowd. Your eyes land on Joel and for a brief moment he swears he stops breathing. He can’t hear anything the emcee is saying, all the noise around him just a dull buzz as he watches you swing yourself up onto the back of the bull.

“Alright, alright, alright! Our rider’s goal is to stay on for one minute using only one hand! If she falls before the buzzer, y’all get nothin’. But if she makes it, shots are half off for the rest of the night!”

A cacophony of cheers erupts around Joel and you straighten your spine, holding your hand out with a thumbs up. The music starts, some pop song he’s heard on the radio in the morning when he’s taking Sarah to school, and the mechanical bull turns in a slow circle. You have one hand twisted in a leather strap, the other raised above your head as the bull bucks and swings, your hips moving smoothly with the machine.

“Goddamn,” someone says from behind Joel. “I ain’t ever wanted to be a bull so bad in my life.”

Me, too, he thinks.

Your thighs press tight against the sides of the bull as it swings around, turning you to face the section of crowd Joel stands in. You release the hand grip, both hands in the air now as you rely solely on your legs and core to keep you up on the machine. When the machine turns again, you manage to lift your body and swing your legs around to reverse your position, now seated facing the back of the bull.

“Alright, ten more seconds!” The emcee calls out. The crowd starts to cheer your name and Joel can’t help but join in, eyes glued to you as you continue to swing and sway like all the movements are nothing but second nature to you.

“Three! Two! One!”

A cowbell goes off, signaling the end of your ride. The bull slows to a stop and you sit there for a moment to catch your breath, waving at the crowd. The bar owner, Johnny, comes out onto the crash pad with a huge grin on his face.

“Great job up there, kid. Now go sell some half priced shots,” he says with a good natured pat on your shoulder.

You return to the bar, where the other two bartenders scheduled tonight field the after-show rush, lining up shot glasses and filling them in quick succession with the requested liquor. When you get behind the bar, a familiar head of curly hair catches your eye.

“Tommy!” You call, excited to see one of you favorite regulars. He shouts your name as you stop in front of him.

“This is my brother, Joel!” He says, slapping the back of the man beside him. You’d seen him in the crowd, a handsome guy with broad shoulders stretching a dark blue t-shirt, warm tan skin, and messy curls that speak to the family resemblance between him and Tommy. You reach a hand across the bar, Joel’s calloused fingers dragging against your palm as you greet the man.

“It’s nice to meet you, Joel. Can I get y’all anything?” You ask. Tommy grins.

“Let me get this man a slap shot!” He yells.

You glance at Joel. “That okay with you?” You ask.

His eyes are comically wide as he nods. You step back to ring the bell behind the bar, your fellow bartenders whooping and cheering, a chant of “SLAP SHOT! SLAP SHOT!” echoing around you.

Haley sets a glass of water on the bar for you and you grab a pint glass, filling it with ice and two ounces of Jim Beam and amaretto. You smack the steel shaker on top, grabbing both glasses and shaking them vigorously over your shoulder.

You strain the contents of the shaker into a shot glass, amber liquid flowing to the brim. When you’ve got everything ready, you leave the back of the bar and squeeze your way through the crowd until you’re in front of the two brothers and can hoist yourself up onto the bar.

“Alright, Joel, are you ready?” You shout. He looks a little confused, brows pinched tight over kind brown eyes, but he nods anyway, holding his hand out for the shot glass. Tommy watches with a shit eating grin. “Three! Two! One!”

Joel takes the shot and you follow it with a glass of water to his face and a slap across his jaw in quick succession. Tommy is howling with laughter and Joel’s face is one of pure shock, red blooming across the skin of his cheek. He turns to his brother.

“Tommy, what the fuck!” Joel shouts. His hand wraps into the neck of Tommy’s shirt. “You little fuckin’ shit!”

You have the sinking realization that Joel wasn’t prepared for what a slap shot entails. You had just assumed this was something Tommy had told him about, having been to the bar so much the last few months.

Joel looks mad as hell, his shoulders tense and you worry he may actually throw a punch at Tommy. You hop from the bar and get between the two men, pressing a hand to their chests and pushing them apart.

"You, come with me," you say, pointing to Joel. "And you," -- you jab a finger into Tommy's chest -- "are on my shit list."

You take Joel by the hand and guide him to the back office, shutting the door and muffling the noises of the bar beyond it. His face is still dripping wet and the water dripping from his chin has gathered into a sizeable spot on the collar of his shirt.

"I am so, so sorry," you start, rifling through the storage cabinet for a bar towel. You hold it out to him, avoiding his gaze. "Tommy comes here so much that I just thought he'd told you about what a slap shot was. I should have told you, oh my god."

"Hey, it's okay. I ain't mad at you," Joel says, running the towel over his damp face. "Tommy, though. I'm gonna kick his fuckin' ass later."

"Still," you mumble, twisting your hands together nervously. "I'm sorry. Is your cheek okay?"

He rubs the towel over his head to dry his hair a bit, the action leaving him adorable mussed, curly strands sticking up in every direction. You're staring at him, maybe a little too much, but who can blame you? The man is hot.

"Yeah, trust me. I've had worse," Joel replies with a laugh.

"You get slapped by women often?" You tease.

"The number of times ain't just one."

"Oh, a bad boy. Mama warned me about guys like you."

He laughs again, long and low, running a hand through his hair. "Well, thank you for the towel."

"Right. And your next drink is on me. As an apology," you tell him.

"I'd rather get your number," he says. "You know, as an apology."

You raise your eyebrows at him before turning to the manager's desk, grabbing a marker and tugging the cap off with your teeth. You slide a hand down his arm, lifting his forearm up so that you can write down your number across the smooth, tan skin.

"I'm off next weekend," you comment when you've recapped the marker.

"I'll keep that in mind," Joel replies with a grin.

Joel's nervous as he waits outside of your apartment building in his truck, fingers tapping a nameless tune against the steering wheel. It's Saturday night and he's here to pick you up for dinner at a restaurant in downtown Austin, one that required he dig out the old black button down he keeps shoved in the back of his closet for parent-teacher conferences and funerals.

The front door to your building opens and you emerge, dressed in a pretty red wrap dress and black heels. Joel gets out of the truck and jogs around to the passenger side to open the door for you and he's surprised when you lean up and kiss him on the cheek.

"Hey," you say in greeting, climbing into the truck and settling into the passenger seat, your purse on your lap. Joel can't help the dopey grin that's surely stretched across his face.

“Hey, yourself. You look nice,” he replies. He shuts the door and jogs around the the driver’s side.

“You don’t look so bad either,” you tell him as he starts the truck up. He can feel his cheeks get warm and he hopes that you can’t see him the proof of his nerves in the dark cab.

At the restaurant, the host leads you both to a small table towards the back of the restaurant, pristine white tablecloth topped with a small vase of flowers and a flickering votive candle. A waiter in a white button down comes by to take your drink orders before disappearing the the kitchen, leaving the two of you regarding each other in silence.

“Look, I gotta be honest about somethin’,” Joel says, leg bouncing beneath the table. “I’ve got a kid. Sarah, she’s thirteen. Light of my life, you know?” He takes a deep breath before finishing with, “And I don’t think I’ve even been on a date since she’s been born, so this is just…a little new to me.”

“You have a kid?” You ask. For a moment Joel worries that he may have ended this before it could even get a chance to begin, but then your face lights up with a sweet smile and you ask, “Will you tell me about her?”

Joel does. In between ordering and eating your delicious meals, you and Joel discuss anything and everything. He tells you about Sarah and his contracting work, while you tell him about your full time job as a pharmacy technician, the gig at the bar a part time thing on some weekends. He nearly makes you snort your water out of your nose with a story about rescuing Tommy from the bathroom of the girl he’d been seeing when her long distance boyfriend, who Tommy didn’t know existed, showed up at her apartment.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim breathlessly. “And he just jumped out of the bathroom window?”

“To be fair, she had a first floor unit,” Joel confirms. “His royal pain in the ass still made me take him to urgent care because he thought he broke his ankle.”

“You’re a good brother,” you say with a smile. Joel feels the warmth of it in his veins.

After dinner, the ride back to your place is quiet, the comfortable silence filled with the low music from the radio. In a moment of bravery, Joel reaches over and lays a hand on your low thigh, just above your knee as he drives. He refuses to look over at you, but from the corner of his eye he sees you look down at his hand before looking back out the window.

He counts that as a win.

He pulls up the curb outside your apartment and kills the engine. You speak before he has a chance to agonize over what to say.

“Will you walk me to my door?” You ask.

He feels relief and anxiety in one fell swoop. He agonizes internally over whether to kiss you goodnight as he follows you up the stairs to your apartment, the buzzing in his brain momentarily silenced while he watches your hips sway as you climb the steps.

You stop on the second floor, guiding him down a long hallway to a door marked with a black metal number three. You turn to face him, looking up at him through your lashes.

“This is me,” you murmur. Joel swallows nervously.

“Right. I, uh…I had a really great time tonight,” he says.

“Would you…want to come inside?”

Joel’s brain short circuits. “Would I—? Yeah.”

You turn to unlock the door, pushing into your apartment and Joel follows you inside. The apartment is dark but you quickly turn on the lights as you move further inside, illuminating an open living room with a dining nook. There’s a door off to the right that he assumes is your bedroom and an open kitchen to the left. It’s small, but it’s cozy, bursting with colors and fabrics and mismatched furniture.

“Well, this is home,” you say with a shrug. You set your purse down on the small circular dining table. “Can I get you anything to drink? I’ve got beer, some liquor on the bar cart over there if you want to have a look.”

“Beer is fine,” Joel says, taking a seat on the comfy looking couch. You return with a bottle of beer, passing it to him before settling in beside him, kicking off your heels and drawing your legs up beneath you.

He takes a sip, fortifying his nerves. He wasn’t lying when he said it’s been a long time since he’s been on a date, but even sex has been a distant thought for the last year or so. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

“So,” you start, your elbow pressed into the back couch cushion while you lean your face into the palm of your hand. “You wanna know what I think?”

“‘Bout what?” Joel asks.

“You.”

“You got a report card ready for me already?”

“I think” — you take the beer bottle from his hand, setting it on the coffee table — “you’ve spent a long time being a caretaker. Right? You’ve got Tommy, who was already a handful. Your daughter, who’s obviously priority number one. You’ve got a business to worry about, workers to care for.” You shuffle closer on your knees, swinging a leg over his and settling yourself onto his lap. “This okay?” You ask.

“Yeah,” he replies, probably a bit too enthusiastically. His fingers curl into the couch cushions and he wants to reach up to wrap his hands around your waist but he’s not sure if he should.

You play with the collar of his shirt. “What do you think about having someone take care of you for a change?”

Joel’s stomach flips, cock jumping in interest as the blood in his brain rushes south and leaves him only capable of responding with a mumbled, “Oh?”

“I just think you deserve someone treating you real nice,” you say with a shrug. Deft fingers work at undoing the buttons of his shirt. “Especially when I was so mean when we met, slapping you across the face like I did.”

“Told you not to worry ‘bout that,” he replies, head dropping against the back cushions. “S’not like I didn’t like it.”

“You like to be roughed up a little, Mr. Miller?”

“Maybe.”

Your grin is wicked as you drag your nails down the now exposed skin of his chest. He hisses at the sting of it.

“Interesting,” you murmur. You lean close, chest pressed against his, hands coming up to frame his face. Your nails scratch through his beard now and he groans his appreciation.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks. “Please?”

You respond by pressing your lips to his, chaste as first. Your mouths move together slowly, feeling each other out. It’s you that takes it deeper, tracing your tongue over his bottom lip and dipping it inside to tangle with his. He wraps his arms around your low back, holding you tightly in his lap as he consumes you, drunk on the feeling of your breath in his lungs.

You drags yours lips away from his with a slick sound, trailing them along his jaw and towards his ear. You nip at his earlobe, teeth gentle and breath hot before whispering, “Can I suck your cock, Joel?”

A whimper claws it’s way up Joel’s throat as he nods, already unable to form words. He’s no stranger to turning into a puddle for a pretty woman but he’s certain this must be a new record.

You slip from his lap and kneel on the floor, pushing his legs apart so that you can settle in between them. Your hands reach for his belt, tugging on the buckle and pulling it loose so that you can pop the button of his jeans and tug the zipper down, the metallic sound loud in the quiet room.

Your fingers curl into the waist of his jeans and Joel lifts his hips a bit to aid you in tugging them halfway down his thighs. His cock tents his boxers in an obscene way, a wet spot already staining the fabric. You run your palms up his thighs before bracketing his member between your hands, lightly running your thumbs up his length.

“Christ,” Joel says, teeth digging into his lip.

“That feel good?” You ask.

“Uh huh.”

You smile beatifically before leaning forward, warm breath on his covered cock as you press gentle kisses through the fabric. Joel’s hips twitch and he lets out a deep groan.

You tug the elastic of his boxers over his length, tucking it beneath his balls. He’s practically vibrating with need but you continue to take your sweet time, pressing more kisses along his shaft, tracing the tip of your tongue over the prominent vein.

“You have a pretty cock, Joel,” you say, wrapping your hand around the base of him to hold him steady. It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t want to miss the sight of your tongue lapping at the bead of precum gathered on his flushed tip, or the way your own eyes flutter shut as you let out a little moan of appreciation.

You wrap your lips around his cock, taking him inch by agonizing inch into your warm mouth and Joel feels any semblance of sanity disappear from his lust clouded brain. Your eyes stay fixed on him as take him in as far as you can, throat fluttering around the sensitive head when you swallow before pulling up, twirling your tongue around the tip, and plunging back down.

“Christ,” Joel groans, reaching out to cup your cheek. “You look so goddamn good like that.”

You lift off his cock and take it in your hand, moving it across your lips as you ask, “Like what?”

“Chokin’ on my cock, sweetheart,” he growls.

“That was nothing.”

Joel’s about to ask what you mean when you lower your mouth over his length once more. He can feel you flatten your tongue, your throat and jaw relaxing enough to take him to the very base, your nose tickling the wiry curls on his pelvis. He moans as you swallow around him, breathing through your nose and holding yourself there for a moment before coming up with a gasp, tears gathered in the corners of your eyes and spit making your chin shiny in the low light.

“So…I could keep doing this,” you tell him, “or…”

“Or?” He asks.

“Or…you could let me make us both feel good.”

You stand up, your hands untying the knot that holds your dress together so you can push it off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. You push your panties down your legs and unhook your bra, leaving you gloriously naked in front him, every inch of you like a piece of art meant to be admired. Joel’s hands, greedy and unfulfilled up until now, reach up to grip your hips and pull you onto his lap, your pussy hot and wet against his cock. He lets his hands wander over every inch of exposed skin, relishing the way your ass fits in his palms and the way you hiss when his thumb caresses a tight nipple.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he moans, his lips against your rapid pulse, teeth ghosting the thin skin of your neck. “Need you so bad, baby.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” you whisper, reaching between your bodies to hold his throbbing cock steady, notching it at your soaked entrance and beginning a slow slide down.

Joel is panting against your sweat slick chest, mumbling desperate words into your skin as you take him inside of you as slowly as you can, thighs burning with the effort. When you’ve finally seated yourself on his lap, his head drops back to the cushion, eyes squeezed shut tightly and fingers nearly bruising on your thighs.

“Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move,” he begs. “Oh, fuck, feels so good.”

Where he’s desperate for you to stay still, you’re already desperate to move. His cock is perfect, thick and long with a slight upward curve, pressing up against your g-spot with stunning accuracy. You’re certain this won’t last long for either of you.

You rock slowly, forward and back, little movements of your hips. Joel lifts his head, looking down at where your bodies are connected with dark eyes. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, tangling your fingers in his hair and giving it a sharp tug that has him hissing your name.

You start to move more quickly, rolling your body in smooth waves over his. He’s panting as he looks up at you, sweat gathering at his temple, and his hands grip your ass and follow your movement reverently.

“So fuckin’ good,” he moans, “you’re gonna make me come, baby, goddamn.”

You speed up, bouncing on his lap now. Your couch creaks the slightest bit, protesting your movements, but you don’t care — all you care about is the man beneath you and the desperate little noises spilling from his lips as you make good on your promise to take care of him.

“Touch me,” you command. “I’m so close, Joel, please.”

He’s a good listener, your Joel, his thumb immediately finding your clit and circling it with messy movements that drive you wild, that tension in your muscles coiling tighter. Joel’s hips flex into yours with each drop down his length, the room echoing with the lewd sounds of skin against skin and the chorus of whimpers that spill from both of you.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you chant. He wraps his arms around you, really thrusting into you now as your own movements falter and you collapse forward, head buried against his neck as you come, trembling with the strength of it.

It’s not long after that he goes still, cock pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks of your orgasm wash over you. You stay slumped against each other, catching your breaths and waiting for your racing hearts to come back down to earth.

“That was…,” Joel says with a breathless laugh that shakes his chest. His fingers play up and down your back, soothing and gentle. “Goddamn, that was amazin’.”

“Yeah?” You ask, lifting your head. You smooth his messy hair back from his forehead. “You weren’t so bad either.”

He nips at your neck in retaliation, making you laugh and squirm away from him.

“Do you have to get going?” You ask.

“No,” he replies. “Tommy’s watchin’ Sarah for me tonight. He owes me one. Besides, I’m ain’t done with you yet.”

“No?”

“Not even close, darlin’.”

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #no use of y/n #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal character

3K notes · View notes

ohdeerfully · 3 months

Note

hiii! this is my first request on tumblr but i jus love alastor sm and there is NOT enough fics for me out there. so im asking u❤️

what abt alastor being jealous of someone else in the hotel? for example: angel dust, he puts on music and you two are dancing with eachother happily not noticing the red eyed demon with a tight grin. 🥰

Hii! Honestly after writing this I realized I didn't follow the prompt exactly, less jealousy and more Alastor being overprotective. Oh well! Hope you like it anyway :D!

Be Back Soon (i)

alastor x reader (fluff? alastor is just overprotective) part i TW: Cursing/Angel existing if you want tagged in the next part, lmk! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

Your fingers dragged down the skin around your eyes as you let out a long sight, sitting at Husk’s bar with shoulders propped on the cold counter. What a day it had been, running around in the typical chaos of the hotel as Charlie tried to get some group bonding activities finished. It was getting late, and you just finally had a moment of peace.

“‘Ey, toots!” The chipper voice broke your peace and you couldn’t help it when another audible sigh escaped you. The culprit of the broken science paid no mind.

Turning your head, you narrowed your eyes and made eye contact with the lanky pink spider. You were a little salty at him in particular, being one of the main catalysts to the everyday insanity. He had an easy grin played upon his lips as he stared back down at you with his multicolored eyes, one pair of arms on his hips that jutted out a little too unnaturally in a mischievous pose. His golden tooth glinted under his light grin with a similar air of “hey I’m up to no good right now.”

“You look fuckin’ tired!” He barked a laugh, dramatically squeezing his eyes shut in a theatrical show of laughing in your face. It really wasn’t that funny, and you couldn’t stop the frown that touched your lips as you watched him. He took pride in being the way he was. Annoying.

“No thanks to you, Angel,” You clipped back. You turned your head to watch Husk, who was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. He had become an expert in ignoring the spider demon’s presence, which was how he managed to stay sane with said demon’s constant flirting and sexual nature.

“Anyway,” He waves away your targeted words with a wave of his hands as his eyes roll up. “I was thinkin’ we get outta here for the night? Me and Cherri were gonna have a “girl’s night.”” You briefly thought about the humor in Angel admitting to being ‘one of the girls,’ but pushed the thought away to consider his invitation. “It wouldn’t hurt ta get some fresh air. This place is real stuffy sometimes, and a huge snooze fest,” he persuaded. He rested his face on one pair of hands, fingers laced under his chin, as he leaned against the bartop in anticipation for your answer.

You purse your lips in thought. It wouldn’t hurt, right? You didn’t go out clubbing a lot, and with Angel and Cherri with you surely nothing wrong would happen. They looked out for their friends, and you would (maybe regretfully) consider yourself Angel’s friend. You glanced at Husk for a moment, as if looking for advice, but his eyes remained close and his lips had an annoyed curl. Maybe you should get out of his hair.

“Okay, okay,” You grinned, a little sheepishly. While you couldn’t really consider ‘fresh air’ to be a feature of Hell, you agreed that you needed to just Get Out of this place. Running errands for Charlie got mundane, even with all the strange characters that cycled through the place. One tends to get used to the chaos.

Angel stretched his arms up in a cheer, which earned a one-eyed, aggravated look from Husk. He uttered something under his breath before grabbing a bottle and walking to the other corner.

“Alright, sweet lips,” Angel cooed at you. “Let's get you dressed! You got anything decent up in your closet?”

Your hand found its way to the back of your neck as you answered sheepishly, “Eh, not really… At least, not for a night out. I don’t really do much outside of the Hotel.” Angel frowned at the response, tapping his chin in thought.

“Lemme take a look,” With a swipe of his arm, your hand was suddenly being held as he dragged you up the steps toward the floor of your room.

Walking down at the same time, you briskly passed by Alastor, who had his eyes closed and a hum in his mouth. His blazing red eyes peered open as you and Angel rushed past him, a quizzical furrow in his brow seeing the connection between your hands. You shot him a shy grin and craned your head back to shout a quick ‘I’ll explain in a minute,’ before you disappeared around the bend of the stairs.

You didn’t miss the dark gleam in his eyes.

Angel, in an attempt to dramatically burst through your door, slammed full body into the entrance. “Ah- the hell?” He cried, roughly jiggling the handle.

“I keep it locked,” you snickered at him and the disheveled look in his usually preened hair. You saw him take his hands to brush it out as you fiddled with the lock, an annoyed mutter of words escaping his lips. The second the door clicked, Angel shoved past you and reattempted his dramatic burst through the entrance with a bit more luck this time around.

He went straight for your closer, rummaging through this and that. What a breach of privacy, this guy is, you thought with a strained smile as you stepped up next to him to try to guide him through your very Ordinary and Plain clothes.

You felt a prickling sensation on your skin, and you swear you heard a frequency of low static, but when you whipped your head around nothing stood there. Did that shadow just move?

Shaking your head, you looked at the piece Angel held proudly in his hands, one pair of arms gripping the top and the second pair pulling the bottom out to really get a full inspection.

It was incredibly simple, but still a bit more revealing than anything you were used to wearing. A deep red top, so cropped it may as well be a sporty bra, with a couple eye-catching accents of rhinestones. Connected with thin straps was a similarly tight pair of booty shorts. Your face flushed at the thought of wearing this. It was practically lingerie.

“Isn’t it a bit, uh, tacky?” You tried in an attempt to dissuade him from this getup. He acted offended, one hand going and pressing against his fluffed chest. You didn’t miss the way he took this as an opportunity and pressed up against himself to perk up his mass of chest fur.

“Babe, I wear shit like this all the time! You tellin’ me,” He started a rant, shaking the clothes in a fit of mock rage. “You tellin’ me I’m tacky? Hah! Me! Angel Dust!” He wiped away a fake tear in his laughter.

Your face flushed again looking at the getup. With a defeated mutter you swiped it from his hands and trekked painfully slowly to the restroom. You ignored Angel’s urgency for you to ‘hurry the hell up’ because it was almost time to get going.

You slowly stripped yourself of your day clothes, gingerly stepping through the tight shorts and tucking your arms through the straps of the top. You didn’t even remember buying this thing, it had been stuffed far in the back of your closet. You couldn’t help the feeling of dread thinking about the other embarrassing things Angel might have seen in there. Though, you doubt anything could phase that guy.

You had to admit, looking at your reflection, that it did accentuate your curves, even if you didn’t have much to begin with. The rhinestone accents glittered in the bathroom light, obviously designed in a way to bring attention to the chest. The straps that connect the two pieces fit snugly against your exposed torso. You were suddenly glad Hell never got that cold.

“Almost ready!” You snapped at Angel calling from the other side of the door. You quickly threw on some touches of makeup, trying your best to compliment the shades of your outfit and adding some glittery makeup around your eyes. You quickly dragged your fingers through your hair to style it comfortably.

You ripped open your door just as fists started banging on it. Angel stood there with two arms raised, stopped midair to keep himself from decking you in the head. You glared up at him, trying to maintain your earlier sourness to hide the fact that the outfit had grown on you.

“Hey, sexy lady!” Angel teasingly leaned himself against the doorframe with a smirk. “Let’s fuckin’ go! You took too damn long! Cherri hates waitin’.”

Grabbing your hand again, he ushered you out of the room. As you raced down the stairs, you tried to continuously preen your hair to keep it from flying out of shape as Angel practically drug you down each step.

He slowed at the bottom, releasing your hand, and stepping towards Husk’s bar to aggravate and flirt with the cat one last time before heading out. You tuned out his sexual innuendoes as you tried to glance over yourself one last time.

“My, what a dame you are!” Alastor’s recognizably radio-afflicted voice ripped your attention away from picking at a loose rhinestone. He stood over you, a slight bend in his waist and an unnatural crane in his neck. His smile was there, but tight and uneasily wide as he examined you through squinted eyes. He leaned his weight against his cane.

Swallowing your unease, you examined his expression. You knew Alastor didn’t care for such… promiscuous outfits. Especially on what he considered his. You knew his compliment was satirical, and you didn’t miss that glint of anger flash through his expression.

“Heyy, Al,” You drew out your words, unintentionally accentuating the awkward tone between the two of you. He paid no mind, keeping up that seemingly cheerful grin of his as he just… stared at you. His fingers tapped impatiently on the radio of his cane, each tap bringing a warp to the frequency that always surrounded him. “I’m going out with Angel tonight. Y’know… to get some air…”

“My dear,” His eyes closed in a laugh and he straightened himself out. “Why would you ever go out there for fresh air? Now, you know those demons would just eat you right up.” A dark sneer infected his smile, lips curling and exposing the line of his black gums.

“‘Ey c’mon, Smiles,” Angel stepped up next to you and lazily threw an arm over your shoulder. You saw that sneer only deepen as Alastor watched the spider get way too close to you. “Give ‘er a break! She’s always runnin’ around doin’ shit for this bum-ass hotel! It makes her… boring!”

You didn’t know whether or not to appreciate Angel both defending and insulting you. You decided to just ignore his comments as you watched Alastor’s expression get darker and more sinister. You felt a cold sweat prickle at your neck as that static-y frequency of his became more prominent and aggressive as his eyes swept over the two of you, lingering on your exposed abdomen with a frustrated twitch in his brow.

“Why, of course!” He suddenly cheered, brandishing his hands to his side in a slight bow. “But…” He stepped towards you, looming over you. You felt that nervous tickle again. His right hand raised and, with a quick motion, a fairly modest jacket materialized around your shoulders. “All better! Wouldn’t want greedy eyes seeing what’s mine!”

How bold, you thought. He was from the ‘30s, though, and very old fashioned. It made sense that immodest wear bothered him. Plus, you looked down at the jacket. It had a similar color scheme, and was light enough to not be too warm. At least it goes with my outfit. How sweet.

You felt a bit giddy at the permission Alastor had given you–not that you needed it. (You did). You’re a grown ass adult. (It doesn’t matter). You shot him a smile of thanks before dashing out the door, meeting Cherri who had been frequently laying on the car horn for you to Hurry the Fuck Up.

Before Angel Dust could follow, a tight grip on one of his wrists stopped him in his tracks. He hissed, yanking his arm but to no avail. Alastor’s grab was like iron, and his nails began to dig into Angel’s skin.

“Hey you fuck, let me go! I gotta get out there before Cherri starts blowin’ this shit up!”

Alastor pulled Angel in closer, a sneer-like grin crossing his expression. There was a maddening look in his glowing red eyes.

“If she comes home with even the smallest scrape,” He said in a low tone, the garble of his radio slightly distorting his voice. “I’m going to make you wish you never came to this Hazbin Hotel.”

Alastor’s grip didn’t yield as Angel tried again in a futile attempt to release himself. He had a nervous laugh in his voice as he tried to act unintimidated by the Radio Demon’s threat.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, you creepy red fuck,” He gruffed back, “Me an’ Cherri will stick right by her. You don’t gotta worry about nothin’.” Alastor’s expression shifted in an instant, his cheerful grin reappearing. He stood up straight and smiled down at Angel. “Good man! Now, don’t be too long,” He shooed Angel out of the lobby, who was more than glad to get the fuck out of there. He heard a faint ‘I’ll be watching’ from behind as he slammed the car door shut, muttering curses under his breath.

He knew Alastor would send that damn shadow of his to keep a close eye, so why the fuck did Angel have to babysit you in the first place? Plus, you weren’t some weak, naive fool. Whatever. He knew Alastor would take any excuse to cause some entertaining mayhem.

He sighed as he looked at you, who had a nervous but excited grin as Cherri rambled and cursed about something.

Maybe he shouldn’t have invited you out. He knew he was in for a long, stressful night. Good thing there would be a bar.

#alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #angel dust #ohdeerfully #cursing #fluff #alastor is overprotective #reader isnt weak tho #he just cares too much i think

2K notes · View notes

multi-fandom-imagine · 3 months

Note

If you don't want to write this it's completely fine

Could you please do Adam, Husk, Lucifer and Alastor (separately) x fem!reader who is going through *that* time of the month and how they'd try to help? (Love your writing btw)

A/n: you're so sweet, thank you.

Adam:

Mind goes right to sex, he heard it helps so why wouldn't he wanna help his girl.

"It's alright beautiful." Adam gave you a wink tugging you close to his chest. "A little blood doesn't bother me."

Really tries, goes to Lute if he see's you are in pain. He does not like seeing you in pain, will honestly try.

Will get any food you want and eat it with you, think's you're the hottest thing to hit heaven and will tell you that. { is low key scared you'd leave him for Lucifer }

"You're so sexy babe, want me to message your tit or thighs? I can do that."

Adam nuzzled his nose into your neck. "I can make you feel good."

Husk:

Will offer to get you drunk to numb the pain sin e he really does not know how any of that shit works.

Husk would let you cuddle into him if you are in pain. You love how soft he is, how warm he is, he is like your own personal heater.

If you are horny, Husk would step up to help you with the problem. Like Adam, he takes no issue with the blood.

Won't ask anyone for help, want's to do it himself and though he may mess up a little he does his best to try.

"Need a drink.?" Seeing the scowl on your face, Husk stepped out from behind the bar to give you an awkward hug. His nose pressing into your neck as his paw slowly ran down your message your stomach.

"I'll make you feel good."

Lucifer:

Is the one that know's the most about period's due to Lillith and Charlie.

Would do anything to help you, go all out to make sure you feel good. You're his number one priority.

"Need anything Princess? A heating pad, something to take the pain away? Sweets? Or do you prefer something savory or salty?" Lucifer stepped close to you taking your hand in his. "Anything you want, it is yours."

Giving him a weak but tired smile, you shifted your body on the bed. "How about a nice cuddle."

"That I can happily do." Sliding in the bed next to you, he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

Finds out you become more fertile when you are pregnant, will practically beg for sex.

Alastor:

Is in between knowing more than Adam and Husk but knowing less than Lucifer. Since he care's about you will offer to help with what you need. He can't have his little doe in pain now can he.

Makes someone useless to grab an essential that you might need.

Hates that your blood drives him a bit crazy, you smell better than before.

"Now why are you up?" Alastor gave you a large grin tilting his head to the side. Stepping towards you, he placed a finger under your chin so you were looking up at him. "Can't have you wandering around when you smell so delicious."

Lets you sit with him while he does his radio broadcasts, you look so cute when you sleep.

1K notes · View notes

pseudowho · 1 month

Text

The Cock Ring

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Hey," you whisper to him, the lights in the living room dim as he begins to bear down over you, your kisses moving from 'I've missed you', to 'fuck, I've really missed you' in under a minute. He hums questioningly, dipping down to nuzzle at your neck, trapping you down with his hips and twitching cock.

"I...bought something today. Close your eyes."

He pulls back momentarily, giving you a shrewd questioning look. You narrow your eyes at him, smiling, and move to close your legs. He's quick to play along.

"Alright, alright..." he sighs, but his breath catches when he feels you move to unzip him, the tips of your fingers grazing over his cock, hardening in his boxers. By the time you've fished his cock out, he's completely hard, his arms trembling as he suspends himself above you.

He gasps to feel something tight being stretched over his cockhead, being guided down and gently released at the base of his cock and balls. He's shuddering as he feels the blood thump through his rigid cock, in a way he hasn't before. You take advantage of his surprise, to push him back to the sofa, pushing his knees apart so you can kneel on the floor between them.

"Oh f-fuck...darling, I--"

"...shhhhh. I want to play with you."

The cock ring is tight, and his length has never looked so strained, so enormous and jerking weakly against his belly. He presses two fingers to the bridge of his nose, taking a single shaky breath in and out. His fists clench, his arms stretching out along the back of the sofa. Seeing you between his legs, eyes dewy and licking your lips at the sight of his engorged cock...he groans.

You hold him in your hand, feeling the weight of him, examining him with hungry curiosity. You can't help the shudder that leaves you as he whimpers, his hands furiously clenching and unclenching, face twisted in euphoric agony, squirming above you. You pump silky lube into your hands, far too much of it. Your eyes flick up to him as you wrap your fingers around his length again.

The way he moans as your wet little hand masturbates his rapidly reddening length, gets you through so many dark nights alone after this. He gasps, shuddering, hair mussed and flicking over his forehead, whining incoordinate babble at you.

"You're so beautiful," you whisper to him, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock, glossing your lips with his salty pre-cum, "...and so big...d'you wanna cum inside me, or...?"

"--I--I don't--I can't-- fuck, my love I...help me--"

He's offered a choice, and is woefully unable to decide for himself, every spark of pleasure aggressively amplified by the cuff trapping blood in his aching cock and balls. He humps up against the air spontaneously when you decide for him, letting go of his cock while he curses and sweats. He begs, incomprehensible nonsense, his cock too sore and too tight to be touched by anything less wet and velvety than your pussy.

You stand, undressing slowly before him, stripteasing, brushing yourself so softly against his poor electrified body. By the time you're straddling his lap, he's almost ready to spill.

He grasps your hips, holding you close with trembling desperation, afraid you'll leave him whimpering with a weeping engorged cock and balls like this.

"--please, darling-- I'll do anything--" You hush him again, a finger on his lips, and he bites it between his teeth, eyes fiery. You can feel him yank you above his cock, his arms locked over your hips to force you down.

You smirk, laughing and locking your knees, and he growls as you fight back against him, his eyes fixed on where he cock almost sheathes inside you.

"...no more fucking around," he chokes out, ready to burst, his length twitching against your entrance. He lets go of your hips briefly to bat your knees aside, and you fall with a squeak, crying out as you immediately impale on his slippery cock. He curses, spitting with need, feeling himself bottom out instantly. You mewl and twist, totally unable to release yourself from his savage insistence.

He's a pathetic mess in seconds, ramming you down onto him, thrusting up, sloppy and wet as his hypersensitive cock struggles to take the pleasure. He watches you squeak and cling onto him, breasts bouncing with his animalistic fucks, reaching out for him to anchor you, and he can't take it anymore it's just too much and his cock feels like it'll explode if he doesn't cum soon and--

He finishes with a shout, cumming uncontrollably. His moans trail off into fractured whimpers, his cock slipping out mid thrust, half of his seed spurting inside you and half spattering out onto your belly and mound. You're drenched in dripping thick white, his balls throbbing and tight and full inside the cock ring. He groans, stuttering and husky, face twisted into a desperate snarl at having been reduced to such a sloppy mess.

He wets his fingers with his cum, lathering it between your folds before reaching aside, grabbing the vibrating wand that you keep in the bag. He grips your wrists together in one hand, maxing the vibrations out on the wand and teasing it over your folds.

"Think it's funny, making me hypersensitive, do you? Let's see who's laughing, now."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

-- Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Higuruma Hiromi, Okkotsu Yuuta, Kong Shiu

1K notes · View notes

urfavleo777 · 6 months

Text

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, oral (m receiving), choking, hair pulling, fluff.

It was an October evening. The sun had long since set, causing all the streetlights to go out. Now, the moonlight shining through the window was the only light you could use to continue reading your favorite book.

Accompanied by the sound of rain, you devoured the pages of The Picture of Dorian Gray. With a sigh, you turned the next page. You were getting close to the end, which made you even more sadder. Your weak spot was your attachment to books and some people.

Specifically to one person.

“Baby?“ Your boyfriend's voice caught your attention. You put the book on the bedside table and bit your lip at the sight of your boyfriend standing in only his lovely pink pajama pants. “Are you still reading?”

“Oh..“ you sighed softly, completely dazed.

"Whoa, you alright?" Colby looked down at you, concerned on his face, "Y/n."

You shake your head slightly, "Yeah." You stand up straight, "You just.." You found a more comfortable position, "Look so beautiful tonight"

“Only tonight?” he laughed brilliantly, moving closer to the bed. Then he lay down and took you in his arms, giving you a tender kiss on your forehead. You immediately forgot about the plot of the book that you were reading eagerly just moments ago.

You gently brushed his hair away and planted a kiss on his bare shoulder, only realizing you'd tickled him when you heard a small, muffled laugh come from the crook of your neck where Colby was resting his head.

During that quiet intimate moment the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your breaths and the sound of your kisses.

“Have I interrupted you in anything?“ he murmured dreamily, after a while.

“No, I was just reading.” You denied it immediately.

"I love you." He muttered as he gently pulled away from him, after some moments, and you cupped his face in your hands after tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “We can continue, if you want.”

“Continue what?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Reading your book.” He replied with embarrassment.

"My sweet, smart boy." You laughed before placing a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you too. And sure, we can continue reading my beloved Dorian Gray.”

“Oh.” He clutched his heart dramatically.

A smile appeared on your face. “Are you jealous because of a fictional character?”

He pretended to feel offended, making you laugh again. Just as he was about to answer, the loud sound of thunder interrupted him. You flinched unexpectedly.

Now he was the one laughing. You huffed in mock outrage.

“My little girl is afraid of thunderstorms?” He gently ran his fingers through your hair’s. “Let me take care of you properly, love.”

You nodded and tried not to smile too wide when you leaned in to kiss him.

You do a whole lot more than just kiss him, though. You open his mouth with your own and lick inside with a confident tongue. You take the breath from his lungs with little effort, leaving him more breathless than he has been all night.

“Wanna suck you off,” you murmured, slurred and muffled against his mouth.

Colby breathed out a laugh, one mixed with amusement and disbelief. “I rarely know this side of you, babe.” He told you, smoothing wide palms up and down your arms.

“Do you want a blowjob or not?”

“Well, yeah, but I—”

“Good,” you hummed with a smile before sinking to your knees in front of him. You unbuttoned his pants and free his half-hard cock from the confines of his pants. You tugged at the hem of his underwear until his heavy balls hang over the plaid fabric.

Finally you decided to have mercy on him as you flattened your tongue against his dick, deciding to follow the vein from his base to his tip. Colby let out a high-pitched whine followed by a "thank you", but you didn’t really care. Yes, it felt good for him, but this was also for your pleasure. You swirled your tongue around his leaking tip, tasting the salty essen.

“Jesus fucking christ— you’re so pretty, baby— fuck.” He tilted his head back, gripping the sheets. “Fuck, please baby. Don't stop.”

You smiled up at the wrecked man, the man begging for you to continue. You could feel the light pressure of his hand against your head trying to push you closer to his groin.

“Can I kiss you?” He surprised himself as the question had left his mouth.

“Please.” you whined with desperation, making Colby groan as his lips found yours in a frenzy.

Your fingers slowly trailed down, finally wrapping your dainty hand around the sheer girth and length that was Colby’s cock.

Another unashamed whimper fell from between his pretty lips.

“That feels good, baby?” You murmured into his mouth between the smacks that echoed off the walls.

“Fuck, yeah mhm, it does.” He rushed out awkwardly, making you giggle into the kiss.

You took him back into your mouth, but that time without mercy as you relaxed your throat, slowly moving down inch by delicious inch as you tried not to gag, his tip now bullying your uvula like his own personal punching bag.

You fucked his aching cock into your throat, bobbing your head up and down, over and over.

“I need your cock so bad Colby.” You moaned.

“Use me, please. J-just fuck, just use me pretty girl.” Colby whimpered.

“Yes, sir.” You whispered into his ear before placing a gentle kiss there. You turned around, hand grabbing onto his still hard cock, you lower yourself into his lap, pink tip already prodding at your hole as your back became flush with his chest, you lay your head back against his shoulder and burrowed it into his neck, both of you moaning in unison as you sink onto him, slowly.

He was so big it was like he was ripping you in half, but you welcomed the burn. The pleasure and pain of it all made your cunt drip even more, further creating less pain and a whole lot more pleasure.

“Shit, you’re so wet and so fucking warm, baby.” Colby huffed.

You wailed as your legs begin to shake, your cunt clenching around him as your nails digging into his thighs that continue to slap up into the backs of yours.

“Colby– I’m cumming, oh my god!” You sobbed, when the most intense pleasure was coursing through your body, turning you into a twitching mess.

“Fuck, me too baby, wher-” He didn’t even get to finish, before you were begging him to cum inside you. Of course he obliged, eyes rolling back into his head and cock throbbing as his heavy load shot deep inside you.

“Goddammit.” He whispered into your neck.

The intensity of the moment consumed you, as he poured every ounce of himself into you, leaving you both utterly spent and satisfied. You both were breathless and drenched in perspiration, your legs entwined with his.

The storm seemed to be going away, the quiet rumbling was barely audible. All of a sudden the street lights came back up. Colby chuckled and sighed.

“So, you still want to read that book of yours again?”

#colby brock #colby brock smut #colby brock fanfic #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach smut #sam and colby smut #colby brock x reader #sam and colby #colby brock fanfiction #hell week #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #colby brock fluff #sam golbach #colby brock imagine

2K notes · View notes

tyunniez · 7 months

Text

lollipop... bttm male reader.

!!.. amab reader, reader has oral fixation, top is kinda mean, reader gives head, cockwarming at start...

his eyes lingered on your lips as he watched you lick your popsicle a little too.. good.

the way your tongue licked the popsicle skillfully, not a single drop dripping down your chin.

you however noticed the staring and quirked an eyebrow at your friend's weird look. " you sure are good at licking that popsicle "

you choked and pulled the frozen treat out of your mouth. you glared at him as your face heated up. " i'm going to shove this popsicle up your ass, pervert! "

he only smirked " don't threaten me with a good time.. " he lazily replied while continuing to eat his ice cream.

" weirdo... " you whispered under your breath.

after that little incident, you couldn't help but keep eating anything that required some form of licking or sucking around him. making it look more sexual every time as a way to say something.

a week had passed since that incident that caused you to drop more and more sexual hints towards him.

you sat down next to him as you adored a lollipop in your mouth. you started to suck that lollipop a little too enthusiastically which earned you a look from him.

" i hope your teeth fall off from all those sweets you've been eating. " he snarkily said to you before returning his attention to his phone.

you side-eyed him and rolled your eyes, obviously frustrated at him not getting a clue at all.

this fucking dumbass.. you got up with a grunt only to be pulled back on the couch by him.

" finish that lollipop and i'll give you something else to suck on. "

never in your life have you ever finished a lollipop in mere seconds.

a grunt left your lips as you looked up at him, your glossy doe eyes filled with nothing but lust.

" shit baby, if i knew this mouth was that good i would've let you suck me off a long time ago. " his voice's a few octaves lower than usual, making your dick tremble in your shorts.

your nipples are hard, the feeling of the cold wind making you shiver a bit.

he strokes your hair, his hand traveling from your soft locks to your cheeks, his finger wiping the tears from your eyes. " y'know, i always knew what you wanted all this time. seeing how desperate you were for me was just so cute.. "

you glare up at him, a bit pissed at how he's been toying with you all this time. " but seeing you so frustrated was just.. " he didn't finish his sentence as it was interrupted by his laugh.

you gag a bit as he forces himself deeper into you, a sick look of pleasure in his eyes as he watches you suffer. oh but he knows, he knows how much you are enjoying this by the tent in your shorts.

your shirt was discarded somewhere a long time ago, your body already filled with bite marks and hickeys from no other than him.

you whined at him, the vibration sending itself straight towards his cock. the stimulation only makes him near.

" alright, alright. since you're so desperate i'll give you what you want. "

he grabs a hold of your hair and began thrusting into you, his cock hitting the back of your throat. the feeling of your mouth being full and the taste of his salty pre cum just making you see stars.

you occasionally lick his bottom side and hollow your cheeks out, in an attempt to make him cum faster and oh, it was working.

" shit baby.. if you keep doing that i might just cum right now. "

and that's exactly what you want as you look up at him, batting your eyelashes as if asking for it.

he smirks and thrusts into you harder, his hips slowly stuttering, nearing his release. " f- fuck.. you better take what i'm giving you, slut. "

his semen shot itself into your throat, painting it white. your eyes roll into the back of your head as you swallow every drop. without even realizing it, your own release comes as you soil your pants.

" bet you fucking love swallowing your own best friend whole huh? " he laughs in your face.

he looks down at you, doting at the sight of you drinking down every drop of him, your own pants wet without him even needing to touch you.

" attaboy. "

#tyunniez 🕷#x male reader #male reader #bttm male reader #bottom male reader #uke male reader #male x male smut #male reader smut #amab reader

2K notes · View notes

norrisleclercf1 · 1 month

Note

I have this mafia Charles hurt comfort idea. Pretty platonic but somewhere where Charles sees her and is mesmerized and slowly creeps his way in the readers life. This is till one day the opposite mafia figures out there’s a weak spot and they take and rough her up and he comes and saves her will all “Who did this to you” trope etc

A/N: I love this, because it's platonic and I don't write that often

You don't know how Charles came to be in your life, one day you were working at your restaurant and serving him, and now here he was eating your chips on your coach.

It was weird to see this man, one who for some reason were scared off sitting on your god ugly couch wearing a very expensive Gucci suit. "Charles?" The man hums and stops shoving the chips in his mouth and cocks his head to the side. "Yeah, babes?" You roll your eyes and chuckle, Charles knows damn well you wouldn't date him, but that didn't stop him from calling you babes or baby.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have a meeting or something?" You move from your kitchen and sit down next to Charles, pulling your legs up to your chest. "Yes, but I wanted to see you first." "To do what? Eat all my food." You snatch away the bag and he whines at the loss of his salty cheat food.

"Maybe, but np, wanted to let you know I have to go to France for a little bit." He shrugs, and you don't pry, Charles always told you when he'd be out of town and that the normal person who followed you, yet something you weren't supposed to know, would be following you. "How long will you be gone?" Charles smiles and pats your knee, rings on display.

He wore one that had an insignia on it and never took it off, you still remember when a shop clerk who was rude to you saw it. The shop clerk froze and when Charles turned and smiled you can still see the way the color drained from his face.

"I'll be gone for about a month or so, you going to miss me?" He grins and you shove his head slightly both of you chuckling. "No, I'll be free of your being a bother. And I'll have my chips to myself." Charles giggles, but stops as he clears his throat getting serious.

"Promise me, that you'll be safe, don't talk to strangers." His face stone cold and you snort. "Yeah should've listened to that advice. Then I wouldn't have a stranger sitting on my couch." You joke, but your laughter is only met with a stern gaze. "Y/n, you're my best friend, I'm serious please don't do anything crazy." He pleads and you nod your head.

"Of course, Char," You untangle your legs and move into his lap and hug him. Charles relaxes and wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. "I'll be back, don't worry." Kissing your temple.

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

"Anything else for you sir?" You smile at the creepy Italian man with big curly hair and round glasses on his pinched face. "No, thank you," You nod and quickly walk through the dark restaurant and shiver feeling his eyes on you still. "You alright?" One of your coworkers ask, worry evident in their tone. "Yep, just the usual weird customer." They nod in understanding and move away going to check on their own tables.

Your shift finally ends, and you shiver, shaking off the weird feeling of being watched. Tightening your coat around you, you jump and then giggle when you realize it's your phone vibrating. "Hey, Char," You knew it was him, his shadow must've told him you just left work. "Hey, gorgeous. How was work?" He asks, and you smile, missing having him beside you and walking you home.

"It was fine, the regulars, and then some gu-" The phone is ripped from your grasp and you scream but it's muffled by a hand closing around your mouth. Two men shove you into the alleyway hearing a crunch you whimper knowing they've destroyed your phone.

You want nothing more than to have Charles here, as pain explodes all over your body.

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

You don't know what happened, but the soft beeping has your body aching just wanting it to shut up. "mumph," You grumble, warmth is suddenly on you and fingers tracing the lines of your face. "Baby, shhh it's okay, you're safe." Opening your eyes, the best you can with them swollen you see a blurry image of Charles.

"Who did this to you?" He whispers, voice filled with anger and sadness. "God, I'm so sorry," He whispers and moves lying down on the bed with you. You whine, sore all over but it feels good to have Charles's scent and warmth all over you. "Missed you," You whisper, and Charles chuckles and cuddles closer to you. "I missed you too," He whispers and you drift off into sleep.

"Sir, we found them," Charles doesn't move and just nods his head. "Rip his head off," Charles growls and presses a delicate kiss to your temple. "Rip all their heads off for all I care,"

543 notes · View notes

i23kazu · 3 months

Text

♡ TO BE LOVED BY

characters. albedo zhongli diluc alhaitham x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff + hurt/comfort. 1.6k words. an. part 1 , part 2 coming soon!!!! | to be loved by genshin men who appreciate art forms – where their favourite piece of art is you. ; reader is insecure + has low self esteem, and the men help them think otherwise. | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

the painter

to be loved by albedo, the painter — people realise that the faces that he paints every day seem to resemble one person and one person alone. the high cheekbones, the crooked smile, the monolids — its either the artist has a case of the same face syndrome, or there is only one source of inspiration for him . . .

albedo sits by his artistry room, the window tinting golden light that shines onto your features. it highlights parts of you that you dislike, you argue, but he tenderly kisses each spot that brings you distaste. if you cannot love yourself, then let him love you extra. if you cannot see yourself the way he looks at you – with all the love and admiration and sweet infatuation in the world – then let him paint you in the way he so lovingly sees you so.

he motions for you to tilt to your left with a flick of his finger, not looking up from the blended paints on his wooden palette. you freeze – you don’t want to make him unhappy by not complying but complying also means seeing the ugliness of you. you don’t want him to see you ugly.

“i don’t like that side of me,” you whisper blankly. “it doesn’t make me look good.”

it is at these few words that albedo looks up from his painting.

“you are beautiful.”

he says the three words so matter-of-factly that you wonder if he even means it at all. they are so quick to fall out of his mouth – does he love you too little to properly regard them so, or does he love you so much that it requires no hesitation on his end to reassure you?

“albedo, thank you, but i am not-”

“you are so beautiful, my love,” albedo repeats. “and it pains me so because you don’t seem to believe it for yourself.”

“i am not-” you blink back salty tears.

“do my words hold no weight to you?” he asks, not unkindly. there’s an awkward stare that the both of you share before he lets a soft sigh part his lips, and he gathers you in his arms.

you look at him tiredly. this was not the battle you wanted to fight today, you think to yourself.

“i am beautiful.” you repeat after him. maybe, just maybe – if you say it enough, you can believe it just as wholeheartedly as albedo believes so. you can see the corners of his lips turn upwards into a soft smile – your lover smooths back your hair, planting a sweet kiss in the middle of your forehead.

“i love you, my muse. it’s alright if you don’t believe it just yet. you’ll have me to remind you that you are beautiful, every day.”

the poet

to be loved by zhongli, the poet — the words he spins materialises out of his infatuation for you. at first glance, the words seem so bombastic – so huge, so big, that they don’t make any sense. but they are beautiful; his words are so sweet and lovely, endless love poems addressed to the one person he has fallen harder and harder for every single day. you.

“are you sure that’s a real word?” you laugh lightly, peering over his shoulder to glance at the newest word on his yellowed paper. eudaimonia, you read curiously.

“my dear, i would assume so,” he replies, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “i believe it means for a person to be of a flourishing, happy state. the thesaurus that tartaglia had obtained for me says so, but if you think otherwise, we can most certainly track down the author to contest that.”

“i trust the author.” you giggle.

“as do i.” zhongli presses a kiss to your forehead, and turns back to his pen.

you watch as he strings together sentences – sentences so lovely, you could never have ever imagined them to be about you. he describes the slight smile on your face when you reread one of your favourite books, or the fact that your laugh has two sounds – one like the tinkling of wind chimes, the other a boisterous, unbridled roar. his pen greets the paper once again, and you hear the gentle scratching of the tip against the sheet.

you are the reason i am able to rest at home with eudaimonia – my pillar, my rock, my lifeline.

“that’s beautiful. your writing is lovely as always.” you whisper, wrapping your arms tenderly around him from behind. he leans into the warmth of your touch, sweetly, lovingly, falling into your embrace.

“well, my dear – it would only make sense for my words to reflect the most pleasing of things to me.”

the photographer

to be loved by diluc, the photographer — you are his model, day and night. he carries his camera when he can, and needless to say . . . more than three quarters of his camera roll is filled with pictures of you. they’re not perfect pictures, but they’re beautiful to him. and that is the only thing he cares about.

”diluc, don’t! i don’t look nice here.” you giggle as he, in a rare bout of unbridled playfulness, pretends to be your personal paparazzi.

“you look good in every photo, my love.” he chuckles, and runs you through the most recent photos he took.

it’s blurry. your cheeks look huge. your chin… “you look good” – was diluc blind, or lying?

you tighten your smile and turn back to your work, waving away thoughts that turn into jealous green monsters over others who would look good in his camera, no matter how imperfect their pose was.

“hey,” diluc sees the frown on your face. “i mean it. you look wonderful.”

“how?” you blink back frustrated tears.

“diluc, open your eyes. my eyes are uneven in this one. my cheeks look like a chipmunk’s. my chin.. i don’t even want to think about my chin. i don’t look good at all, diluc.”

he stays quiet for a moment, and you wonder if that was the right thing to say at all. maybe just keep quiet next time, (y/n). don’t insult his work – your insecurities are yours to hold alone, right? he tucks your hair away from your eyes and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“i urge you – look again, (y/n).”

“you didn’t edit anything, diluc.”

diluc thumbs away a stray tear as he cups your face – a betrayal to your plea to your body to keep quiet. just keep quiet, (y/n). your lover takes your shoulders and sits you down gently, kneeling next to you, camera in hand.

“you don’t look good, you say? interesting.” diluc has a placid smile on his face as he runs through his camera roll again – you are afraid of angering him, of doubting his craft – but how can you see those pictures and be immediately satisfied with what they are?

“why don’t you believe me? i’m the one who sees it.” you reply indignantly.

“i don’t believe so, not at all. you see it, but i see that you are smiling in each and every one of them, my love. you are happy and you are beautiful, my sun. undoubtedly so – for that is what the camera captures. is that not what matters the most?”

the writer

to be loved by alhaitham, the writer — people often wonder who sparks these passionate feelings of infatuation in his writing; all they need to look at is the person he leaves his gaze to linger on for a little while longer. his smile seems to brighten a little when he’s talking with you . . .

he describes a love scene so tenderly. a man and his partner, dancing in the stillness of a living room in the witching hours of the night – sweet, loving words fall clumsily out of the man’s mouth – it’s obvious he’s infatuated with his partner. two words, my angel, stands out in the manuscript you read.

“hayi, why do you never call me your angel? ever?” you ask, a slight pout on your face.

“because you are not a metaphor for me to use,” he counters, not unkindly. “you are not someone who i want to compare a mere object to.”

you see the slight disappointment in his face, and you hate yourself for it.

“maybe being compared to something would be better.” you reply softly.

“you are so much more than that,” he cradles your face in his palm, so gently it hurts.

you don’t deserve this gentleness, do you?

“who am i to take that away from you?”

the silence that follows seems louder than anything else you have ever heard. he sighs softly, not with frustration, but with a tenderness that only alhaitham can muster. he gathers you in his arms – he is so, so much bigger and taller than you – he never wants to crush you. never with his anger, nor his fear, or his hurt or his sadness.

“i’m sorry for always asking that. i don’t want to be annoying.” you murmur, blinking away tears.

“you will never be annoying to me, (y/n).” he exhales.

another quiet moment is shared between the two of you – it’s healing. the silence seems to nod to a shared understanding of a love that need not be said.

“i love you, (y/n), most magnificently so. and if it would take a lifetime for you to remember that, i would like to ask for a chance to spend that lifetime with you,” he whispers these words with a quiet fierceness, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder.

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @camvrin @aqualesha @sixtynintharchon @supernova25 @kunikuda-simp @starglitterz @rin-nyrasti-writes @mxyarylla @starchivves (send ask/comment to be added to taglist)

just for this post: @dailypenpen

reblogs w/ tags & comments are highly appreciated !!! <3 every reblog with a tag or comment gets a cookie from me hehe

#[📝 stewardess' notepad!]#astronetwrk #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x gn reader #albedo x reader #albedo x gn reader #albedo fluff #zhongli x reader #zhongli x gn reader #zhongli fluff #diluc x reader #diluc x gn reader #diluc fluff #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x gn reader #alhaitham fluff #long post

578 notes · View notes

a-hazbin-reader · 3 months

Note

Hello! I just found your blog a couple days ago and I love your stuff!! I like that you mark everything as either being romantic or platonic (as an aromantic, I would like to say you are a saint for doing that) , and all the little pictures and memes bring me immense joy

I was wondering if you could do a platonic alastor x reader where reader makes/made a deal with Alastor. Like full on, sold-their-soul-to-him, no-takesies-backsies kind of a deal.

And like, maybe Alastor doesn't care about them that much at first, but they slowly grow on him? And reader doesn't like alastor that much either, but they have the same dark, chaotic energy and they just sorta click eventually. (and maybe some Rosie in there too??)

Omg you're so sweet for this 😭 Some of the platonic ones are my FAVE! Plus, I get that not everyone is looking for romance 🤧

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

Plus a little Rosie X Reader

❌️Romantic

✅️Platonic

TW: Cartoonish antics, little bit of violence, Alastor being Alastor, Reader lost their soul

Description: ☝️⬆️

You didn't think Alastor was serious when he said he wanted your soul, who tf does that??

Alastor, that's who, you dummy

To be fair, you totally thought you were going to win but imagine your shock when chains suddenly appeared on you like a leash

Bullshit bullshit bullshit

He has you working at the hotel with Husk and Niffty but you go out of your way to mess things up for him

If you're gonna be his pet then you're going to be a nightmare pet

Maybe he'll decide you're not worth the trouble and give your soul up?? That's a thing that happens right?

So you do little things to fuck with Alastor, big enough to annoy him but subtle enough to be an accident

He wants you to make him tea? Oops!! You've poured salt instead of sugar and now he's choking down salty tea because he's too proud to admit you pulled one over on him

Not him giving you a death glare from over his cup

"How is it~?"

"Delightful."

He wants you to wash the dishes? Fine but you're going to drop and break his favorite mug and every replacement he gets

You're so clumsy

You have to carry his bags?? Fine then-

No, you know what? Niffty can carry the bags she's much more strong and sturdy than she looks

You're no fun

The point is, if Alastor is going to make your life miserable because he owns your soul, you're going to give it right back

You don't even make the punishments fun for him

He doesn't stop seeing you as his worst deal until your both suddenly faced against the same foe

Some idiot Vox hired to pick a fight with Alastor and for some reason Alastor picked you to handle it

Watching you play with your prey reminded Alastor of himself, giving him a few good chuckles

By the time you were done, your opponent had practically pissed themselves to death, terrified by your maniacal nature

After the fight while you're being patched up, you and Alastor share a few laughs as you retell what happened

And then you two laugh about Vox

And then you two laugh about how your opponent died

Nobody else is laughing you sick fucks

There's a change in your dynamic after that day, the two of you becoming partners in crime

Those pranks and punishments you two used to use on each other? Now you're combining forces to use them on everyone else

Everyone thought things would be better once you two put aside your differences

But this is so much worse

They find excuses to just send you two out of the hotel so they can have some peace and quiet

You just feed off each other's worst energies and keep making each other worse

The only mitigating force for you two is Rosie, she's the only one who can get you two to slow it down

"Alright! Hold it!"

Not the two of you being scolded by her, looking like two little kicked puppies because Rosie won't let you two blow up a shop

But the owner is so sleazy!!!

No, you two can't pretend to be repairmen so you can break into people's homes and destroy their tvs

She won't even let you write fake fan mail to Vox, slowly gaining his trust as his number one fan only to shatter his heart in some devastating and public way

Wtf is wrong with you two

She just knows how best to handle the two of you and doesn't really mind how twisted the two of you get to be

She finds it adorable

You are besties by that point, an unstoppable force that wreaks havoc on anything in your path

Oh and sweet Rosie is there too

Holding the leashes for you two

You almost forget he owns your soul and so does he most days, the two of you seeing each other more and more as equals

Or at the very least, friends 🧡

Maybe you've earned your soul back

Nah, keep it

This was so fun! I really hope you liked it!

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

529 notes · View notes

kyluff · 4 months

Text

— ↺ Pregnancy Cravings

✎ gojo + geto + nanami + toji + choso x reader !

✦ summary ➠ headcannons on how jjk men react to your cravings during pregnancy.

✦ warnings ➠ pregnancy, nausea, puking

✦ note ➠Hi! Can there be a part 2 of this like pregnancy cravings? - asked by erajoie07 under my ‘baby daddy’ post.

✪ Satoru Gojo

— Pregnancy had brought both negative and positive aspects to your life; exhaustion and energy, tears and happy tears, hate and love. But a very prominent thing that you, and Gojo, noticed was that it brought many cravings. That’s what brought you to where you are now, walking down a street that was littered with food and trinket stands alike.

It all started when you said you wanted ice cream, but not just any ice cream that you get in a pail. No, you wanted to have it scooped by a worker and given out in a large waffle cone, it had to be a waffle cone, not a regular cone. If it wasn’t then you didn’t want to eat it anymore. So you loving husband brought you to a ice cream stand.

“Thank you.” You heard your husband thank the cashier, taking the cone and turning to bring it your way. You were sat on a bench, wishing to sit for a while and rest your swollen feet. To be honest, you started to feel a little queasy ever since you reached the farmers market and had taken in all the smells it produced. It was hard carrying around a almost eight month baby. “Here you go, your precious waffle cone and chocolate ice cream.”

“Actually, I think I’ll pass. I’m not feeling well.” You grimaced, scrunching your nose up and the sight of the dripping ice cream. “Thank you for getting for me though.” You kissed his cheek.

“That’s alright, I can have it for you.” He assured you. “Feeling sick? Want to go back home?” He asked, sitting down beside you and pulling you closer to lean onto his body. Sure, he did let you drag him all the way here just to get you your special treat, but he understood. Pregnancy did a lot of things to a woman.

“No! I think I just need something salty to eat, sweetness it totally throwing me off right now.” You nuzzled into his shoulder, letting all your weight fall onto him.

“Good idea, maybe a soft pretzel, how does that sound?” He bumped your shoulder and you nodded as a response, letting him hoist you up. He secured an arm around you, steadying you while you walked to the pretzel stand, his other hand still holding onto the cone.

Once you had the pretzel secured, you bit into it, smiling at the salty taste that melted into your tongue. Quickly though, your smile faded and your lips trembled in an attempt to hold in the puke that was inevitably rising up your throat. You rushed to the nearest garbage can and let it all out, Gojo followed behind you in worry.

“I think it’s about time we go home.” He had already finished your forgotten ice cream, using one of his hands to pull your hair out of your face while the other worked to rub comforting shapes onto you back.

“No, no. I need a drink, I heard that ginger ale was good for upset stomachs.” You tried to reason, straightening your posture to stand fully.

He breathed in once, shutting his eyes slowly. Why were you being so stubborn, you were clearly sick and needed rest, but you insisted on staying here. He’d go easy on you, you were carrying his child after all. He regained himself, nodding in agreement. “If you get sick again, we’re going home, that’s final.”

You frowned, feeling guilty about making him do all these things. Once you reach a stand that had what you needed, you took small sips of the bubbling liquid, hoping it would react ok.

Gojo was watching you intently, to see if you showed any signs of discomfort or distress.

You paused, feeling another wave of nausea wash over you again. You did your best to hide it from the man that was looking at you, smiling shyly and starting to walk back down the street. “Let’s go home, I’m tried.” It came out shakily.

You did go home, speed walking to the bathroom to relieve yourself of this yucky feeling. You hovered over the toilet, all of the contents of your day coming up. You sighed and wiped your lip, finishing washing your hands. You reached for the door, but Gojo beat you to it. He had a disappointed look on his face, swaying his head side to side.

His silence made you speak, caving into it. “Look, I felt bad, I made you run all over just to get me some food. And I barely ate any of it!”

He softened, bringing your face close to his. “I don’t care about that stuff, I care about you, alright? Your my wife, my pregnant wife that is going to be the mother of my future kid, so if you want me to run you errands then I don’t care. I’ll buy you ten ice creams if that’s what you want.”

✪ Suguru Geto

— You and Suguru have been married for some time now, four years to be exact. And you weren’t first time parents either, you had twin girls that were already three years old by now. You both thought it was the right time to bring another kid into the mix. That’s how you became pregnant now, with your third child.

Your toddlers were asleep finally after they did their toddler activities all around the house. Now it was your time to relax, maybe read a few chapters of the book you started. You entered your bed, turning off the ceiling light and sticking with the candles you had lit all around the bedroom.

As you make yourself comfortable on your bed, your stomach decided to let out a large gurgle, signalling you were hungry. Really? Right now, after you were just about to start reading. You sighed, struggling to lift yourself off the squishy bed. Everything was more difficult when you had a belly the size of a watermelon attached to you. You got to the point where you were sat up, about to slide on your slippers before your husband had barged through the door.

He smiled at you, holding up a brown paper grocery bag up in front of him. “Just swung by the store and saw that they were finally back in stock with the chocolate you’ve been wanting so bad lately.”

You almost cried at the words Geto spoke, he had perfect timing. You were brought back down when he pulled the chocolate bar out of the bag and passed it to you.

“I love you.” You couldn’t help but blurt out, pulling him down with you and you fell down against the bed, kissing him deeply.

“Love you too.” He laughed, you were very random sometimes but he would never dare decline saying a ‘I love you’, especially when it involved you.

✪ Kento Nanami

— It was fairly early in your pregnancy, but it had already affected your emotions greatly. It made you into such a grump, and when you weren’t grumpy you were a cry baby. You’d cry at the littlest things, like if you were watching tv and a sad commercial was shown. You couldn’t help it though, it’s just how your body decided to react to the growing babe in your stomach.

You were a very lucky woman to have such a loving and considerate husband. He understood what you were going through right now, not even batting an eye when you screamed at him in anger, or when you wailed into his embrace.

Right now you were doing the latter of the two, you had been sitting on the couch and had the tv playing when a commercial about elderly dogs came on. When Nanami saw what was on the screen, he quickly sprung into action, switching the channel and looking at you to see how’d you react to this. You were trying to keep it in, taking deep breaths in and out. He stared at you, waiting for something to happen, anything. Then it did, trails of tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Nanami, did you see that poor, old dog?!” You cried out, pointing at the tv even though he had already changed the channel. “He was grey all over, and he had crooked teeth, and his eyes had a shine to them like he was crying!”

You fell into his lap, curling into a sad ball of cries. “And he looked so tired and done with life!”

“Yes, I saw.” He was usually good at coming up with what to say, but what was he suppose to say about a random dog. He regained himself, testing the waters. “He looked quite cute didn’t he?”

Your cries slowed a little, only a little, before they became worse then before. That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. “Such a cute face that’s going to meet its doom, he’s probably going to die in a few years!”

He tried to calm you down with physical comfort instead of verbal. He brought his hand to lay flat against your red cheek, using his thumb to wipe away the constant fall of tears. This didn’t even work though, because you shoved his hand away and covered your face with your own hands. It’s never been this bad, or this long before. You’d usually go back to your normal self after he passed a few words of reassurance or held you close. He didn’t know what to do, but he did what he did best; communication.

“Look, honey, I’m not sure how to help you here. What would make you feel better? Tell me, please, and I’ll do it, anything.” He expressed his feelings forwardly, allowing you time to digest his words. His pointer finger begun to curl with the ends of your hair, waiting for your response.

You mumbled something out against the hands that covered your face, he couldn’t quite understand you. “Say it again, louder this time please, for me?”

“I said ‘a bag of sweet chilli heat Doritos’ would be nice.” You removed your hands this time, ensuring he would hear you.

“Thank you for telling me,” He lifted you gently off of him and placed you back down on the couch as he stood. “I’m going to the convenience store on the corner, I’ll be back soon.” He left you with a small peck on your forehead.

When he returned home to you, he had two white plastic bags with him. “I got you the chips, and I few other things you like.”

After you had your fill of the treats he had brought, you were back to your normal self like nothing ever happened. But this would happen plenty of more times during the 8 months you had left to go, but Nanami didn’t care much. As long as you were happy, and your baby healthy, he was content in life.

✪ Toji Fushiguro

— Toji has been busy with work lately, a particularly hard case was passed onto him to take care of. But now that was all over, he successfully captured the target and handed them off to whichever client has hired him.

He sent a text your way, informing you that he had finished early and was going to be home sooner then expected, which excited you. Your hand subconsciously went to rest on your baby bump, rubbing soothing circles on it. You found that you did this when you were feeling intense emotions, either that being when you were stressed or you were happy, like in this situation.

You decided that you were going to make a proper dinner upon Tojis arrival. That’s the least he deserved after working so hard, and besides, being able to sit down and eat with him would be romantic for both of you after all this time apart.

“M’home.” He mumbled out, kicking off his black shoes and discarding his bag at the entrance. His face shifted slightly when he entered the dinning area, only you could tell though, only you could read him.

“Welcome home,” You skipped up to him, draping your arms around his big shoulders. You pressed a wet kiss to his cheek, then his nose and then his scar. Lastly placing one onto his lips, his own pair of lips chased after yours when you parted from him. “I made your favourite for dinner.”

“Oh ya?” A smirk tugged at his mouth, his hand slipped down so low on your waist, boarder line groping your ass.

“Mhm,” You nodded in response, taking his hand to lead him to the table you set up. There were two plates laid out, filled with food. “Sit down, let’s eat.”

The night consisted of laughs and deep conversations, you could finally talk about what you have missed from each others lives. You picked up your fork, planning to stab into another piece of a side dish you had made, but you were met with nothing. You frowned, that was the one you looked forward to the most while cooking.

Toji picked up on this, he watched as you started mindlessly playing with whatever was left on your plate. Letting the moment play out for awhile, he smiled down at you.

You’ve had enough, standing up and walking to where your boyfriend sat. You kicked the chair leg, telepathically telling him to push back from the table. He listened, leaving enough room for you to squeeze your way onto his lap. Toji accepted the situation, placing his hands on your hips gently, letting you do your thing.

“What’s up?” He hummed in a teasing voice, anything he said came out in a teasing way really. You took his fork, using it to eat what you had wanted to earlier from your own.

“Your sons hungry,” You said before taking another bite. “And he really seems to like this.”

He only nodded his head, letting out a quiet groan as he rubbed up and down the sides of your body.

✪ Choso Kamo

— Choso has always been an obedient boyfriend, doing anything you asked of him with no complaint. This time you might’ve crossed a line though, tonight you asked him to spoon feed you the vanilla yogurt he had just got back from buying you. This just might be the most outrageous task you’ve ever thrown his way, but he agreed to it still, that’s just how much he loved you.

“Can you really not do this yourself?” He asked you as he sat in front of you, lining himself up so he could perform what you wanted to be done.

“I could, technically speaking. But I much rather my handsome boyfriend do it for me.” You passed him the spoon and opened yogurt container.

“Hmm,” he hummed out quietly, taking the two objects you happily gave him. “I still don’t understand why you would ever possibly want this, though.”

“Because it’s romantic, Choso,” You educated your the man. “It’s like you’re feeding our baby yourself.” You giggled, this was a joke of course, I mean the logic behind your words made no sense. But this awakened something in Choso, he felt sparks forming in his heart. He never thought of it in that way, but he sure was now. And he liked that idea.

He quickly scooped up a chunk of the white substance, bringing it to your lips. You smiled at his knew found sense of enthusiasm, opening your mouth to welcome the silverware. You shut your mouth closed, swallowing the yogurt and letting out a satisfied hum.

“Wasn’t that nice? Very intimate I’d say—”

Your boyfriend didn’t respond, only forming another spoonful for you to eat. You smiled as you watched him, to think he was considering saying no to this, now he was enjoying it so much.

684 notes · View notes

thebearer · 10 months

Note

please can i request reader being carmy's taste tester? something sweet and cute please i love your writing

omg thank you so much!!!!! <3 yes! fluffy taste tester blurb ahead with carmen berzatto! just an inside look at his banter with you!

"Ok, taste this." Carmen gave a final stir to the pot on the stove, tapping it firmly on the side before reaching for the small spoon.

You swung your legs, contently perched on the counter beside him- well, not beside him bc Carmen was sort of a maniac in the kitchen, a little chaotic and bounding around when he got in his rhythm. You sat out of the way, but close enough to still watch him, how electric and excited he got cooking. It made your chest swell.

"What's this one?" You hummed, leaning forward while Carmen came towards you, one hand cupping underneath the spoon to stop spillage, the other holding the spoon delicately.

"Uh, same thing. Added the cream and shallots to it, might add those black cherries if it still needs some sweetness..." Carmen rambled out loud, his mind already whirring with what he could add next.

You smiled, placing your hand on his wrist gently. "I thought the last one was good. Perfect." You added.

Carmen gave you a look, pointed and a little playful. "C'mon, it's not perfect." He shook his head. "Too salty with the veal and the steak. Maybe if it was salmon or chicken, something a little lighter it'd be alright, but-"

You giggled lightly, Carmen cutting himself off. He flushed, shaking his head lightly at his own ramble, lips curling with your infectious laugh. "Just open up for me."

You unhinged your jaw, eyes on Carmen's while he guided the spoon into your mouth, free hand cradling your cheek sweetly. You let the sauce swirl on your tongue, really taste it like Carmen was always yapping that you should.

"Mmm..." You hummed, eyes fluttering closed, the blend of spices and creams and sauces all dancing in a melody on your tongue. You weren't a chef, not by any means. You could barely make eggs, but you appreciated that Carmen valued your opinion.

"Good?" Carmen's eyes lit up, tinging with excitement for your approval.

"Really good." You nodded, beaming at him. You held the spoon in your hand, grinning at him. "I was wrong. This is perfect."

"Yeah? You think?" Carmen's fingers tapped anxiously on your thigh. "Are you sure with the Wagyu? Syd's making these creamy potatoes with a sauce that's already kinda creamy like this. Fuck, I-I just think it needs something sweet ya know? To break up the flavor palette-"

"-Carmy." You cooed, jumping down to pad towards him lightly. You wrapped your arms around his waist, hands gliding over his back, rubbing the toned- tense muscles through the soft cotton of his shirt. He relaxed into your touch. "Just slow down. Add the cherries if you think that would be best, but whatever you decide will be best. You know that."

Carmen snorted lightly, shaking his head. "No, no, I don't." He muttered, face falling.

"You do." You hummed, running a hand through his hair, finger twirling around a curl. "You should."

Carmen felt the sides of his lips curls, the anxiety bubbling in his chest simmering down with a feeling of calmness at your words, soothed into your touch.

"Can you just... just taste it one more time, ok? And-And picture it with the steak." Carmen ran his hands sweetly down your arms, grabbing a spare pot. "I'll save some of this and add the cherries to the others, and we'll do the tasting tomorrow with everything and see what works."

You nodded, reaching for your spoon from before, dipping it into the sauce. Carmen turned around, eyes bulging gently. "Eh, eh! Hey!" He tsked, loud and startling you.

You stopped, staring at him in irritation. "What?" You huffed.

"Is that- is that a clean spoon?" Carmen's eyes flickered from you and the spoon.

"It's the one from before-"

"-Baby," Carmen gasped, like you had committed a federal offense- in his kitchen, it was. "I told you, don't dip a spoon in there you've had in your mouth! Fresh spoon! That's a health code violation, c'mon."

You rolled your eyes. "Carmy, it's just us."

"Ok, but-but, now you have your spit all in that."

"Doesn't the heat cook it out?"

Carmen scoffed, eyes rolling before pinching the bridge of his nose. "No, I-I can't believe you just... Now you got your germs all in my sauce."

"My germs?" You gawked, eyeing him carefully. "You don't want my germs now?"

"Not in my food." Carmen hummed, lips pressed to hide his smirk. He was a little wound tight, a little too strict about things he shouldn't be especially in the kitchen with you. He couldn't help it, and he was glad you found it amusing.

You scoffed loudly. "Please, Carmen. You act like we've never kissed before. You've had my spit in you all the time." You glared at him playfully.

Carmen couldn't help the blush he felt rising in his chest, heart hammering away lightly. "Yeah, but wasn't in my food."

"I think you'll be alright." You dismissed, setting the spoon down on the cabinet. Another twitch of his eye when there was a spoon rest right there.

"I hope so. Hope you don't have any germs-"

"-If I have any germs, they're yours." You eyed him knowingly, smug at the way he blushed.

"Watch it." Carmen pointed at you playfully, turning to wipe the counter with his rag, tossing the spoon in the sink. He waited a beat. "Get a clean spoon next time, please."

You laughed. "Oh my God, Carmen! You have literally eaten my ass before and this-"

"-Hey!" Carmen snapped at you through a feigned sternness that faltered with his glowing cheeks. You giggled, leaning back against the counter to watch him, all flustered and fighting a smile. "That's even more of a reason I don't want your germs in my food."

"More like your germs." You muttered, jumping back up on the counter, hips shuffling back to press your back to the cabinets.

"Easy." Carmen's eyes cut to yours, a stern look that had you flushing, tummy flipping with that familiar heat. "Don't get me distracted in here. I'll have you step out."

"Heard, Chef." You nodded exaggeratedly.

Carmen wasn't sure why he blushed hearing you say it, cock twitching behind his zipper at the words. "Get over here and help me stir this, please. Don't want it to burn. I'm gonna chop these cherries up."

#thebearer #thebearerblurbs #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy smut #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto blurb #the bear season 2 #the bear

1K notes · View notes

jayssluttywife · 2 months

Text

cherry red dom!jay x naughty!reader

request>> hey.. its your favourite fan. can you pleasee(!) write about y/n when she teases jay all day and hes had enough so he spanks her and uses a vibrator to overstimulate her or smth. idk I just love your work so much. please make it really kinky and shit. (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) love you.

authors note: ty for asking how i was dear, I'm alright, don't worry about me.

(∩^o^)⊃━☆

"fucking whore" he cursed spanking your ass once again. "don't remember telling you to lay down, get on your knees y/n". you whine silently, raising your legs up so your ass is right beneath his face.

you had been like this for hours. bent over his lap as he spanked you. it wasn't his fault you went around touching his friend's neck at the bar. no one told you to, but you just love testing jay's patience.

the noise of your ass against his hand stops again.

"you lost your count baby, start again" he teases. he landed another smack on your ass. "o-one" you stuttered due to the pleasuring pain. another one "two-" and it went on and on.

"fifteen!" you cried out, body jolting with the pain. "c'mon baby, just five more". you shook your head in protest, knowing it wasn't going to end well. "s' too much- jay m' sorry!" you apologise, he chuckled, leaning to the side to see your teary face.

"thats not good enough baby if you want me to stop" he teases once again. you repeat out a chant of quiet 'fucks' as he starts soothing the red marks.

"jay" he hums in response, rubbing the fabric of your lacey panties. "m' sorry, so so sorry jongiee, I wont do it again- I promise!". he waits a little. "wont do what baby?" your eyes tighten together. "won't talk to- jungown like that- never again!"

he chuckles and lifts you up. putting you in the same position you were on his bed. he fixes the only material you have left on your body: your pretty pink panties.

your head sinks in his mattress, sobbing as the previous pain is now unbearable. you don't even have time to realise that jay has stood up from the edge of his bed and opened his draw. he pulls out two items: handcuffs and a vibrator.

you think its all over, and he would let it slide once again like he always did. but he didn't. he warned you the last time you tried to whine him up, but you still went on.

he grabs your wrists together. you wonder what he was doing when he dragged your hands near the edge of his headboard. well until you hear a certain 'click'. you look up in worry, letting out a whiny huff as you realise what he is doing.

he had locked your hands together. you try to yank your hands away but the restrainers don't budge. he chuckles as you struggle, "you didn't think it was over right baby?" you don't respond, sinking your head once again into his bed. his scent filled your head, clouding any other thoughts you had.

he is so addictive, you could never think about you leaving him. everything about him is amazing. even how his jaw clenches and his eyes narrow when you start teasing him. he pats your back gently "now be a good girl and stay still for me".

before you know it, he stuffed a bunny-like shape vibrator into your cunt. you lift your head up, turning around to look at your boyfriend. he has his teeth between his lips, watching your cunt suck in the vibrator.

you clench at the sight, which he obviously notices, and he looks up to you. "you like this right? your clenching so hard". he smirks at you, slightly touching the slik that had been running down your inner thigh since.

"no cumming until i tell you to ok princess?" you nod your head eagerly. he turns the vibrator on, and hearing you moan he goes towards your face for a closer look.

you still have your eyes tightly shut, and tears streaking down your cheeks are leaving a salty taste on your lips. he smirked at your condition, aware that he could have you in whichever way he desired, whether it was all pretty or all sobby and sweaty.

he switches it off again, and gives you another one of his sly smirks. "how come you can only be good when I punish you?" you turn your face away slightly, embarrassed at all the praises he was giving you.

"look at me y/n" he growls, you slowly turn your head towards him. "poor baby is crying" you can't even understand what he is saying, your head clouded with other thoughts until you feel the vibrator buzz to life. your whole body jolts from the sudden sensation.

he chuckles as your face changes expressions once again. he coos from behind you, you try to close your legs but he holds them apart. "you don't want me to show jungwon just how much of a good girl you are for me, right?" you shake your head, eyes rolling back as he speeds up the toy.

"your my pretty girlfriend alright" he reminds you, which has you nodding your head. he tuts in disapproval "c'mon baby use your words", you sink your head back into his pillow, adding more salty tears to the wet material.

"yes, jay- im your-fuck pretty girlfriend"

"that's it baby" he would purr. he sped up the vibrator, watching your whole body twitch.

it was all too much and you felt an unrecognised knot in your belly, unlike any other one. "jay please" he chuckles, stroking the hair off your face.

"hold it a bit longer baby" but the knot was becoming an urge to let go and you couldn't hold back anymore.

he starts talking again, but you just don't have the mind to listen. and before you know it, you let the knot go. tears running down your face again as you knew you disobeyed him.

"fuck y/n, you squirted everywhere", you yank once again at the handcuffs, whining as the toy is still on.

"hmm" he thinks, wiping the tears off your face. "ill let you off this time". he said, caressing your cherry red ass.

he would let you slide once again, and probably the next time.

#enha x reader #enhypen #enhyphen hard thoughts #enhyphen x reader #enhypen smut #jay smut #jay #enhypen jay #jay x reader #jay x y/n #jay x you #jay park

402 notes · View notes

the-californicationist · 4 months

Text

he cleans up nice

Captain John Price has a medal ceremony and you help him get ready for his big event.

Warning: face fucking, domination/submission, literal boot-licking

The desire to breathe was overriding your ability to stay still. Because his cock was so thick, and because he shoved it deep enough to block your airway, you were losing control of your movements, your body writhing and squirming to free itself, tears running down your face as your system tried whatever it could to force you to take a breath. The tiles were slippery and cold on your shins as you shifted your weight, desperate to get oxygen into your lungs. He moved his hand from your jaw to the back of your head and held you snugly there, shushing you,

“Shh, baby. Count to ten for me. That’s it. Be good for me, alright?”

You nodded as much as his grip allowed and moved forward, nuzzling the dense hair around the base of his cock, lapping your tongue around his edges, moaning loudly and feeling the vibrations through your mouth. Hot, slick drool escaped the corner of your lip and ran down his skin. Your throat began to clench on its own, gagging with panic.

John pulled himself from you quickly, making loud sticky noises as he did, your body gasping for air as it recovered.

“Deep breath, sweetheart. So good. You did so good for me, you know that? Such a beautiful little slag, hm? Loves that cock.”

Without much hesitation, he fed himself back into your swollen mouth. You instinctively tried to push him back, begging with your bloodshot eyes for mercy, and he looked down with his brow furrowed,

“Uh, oh. It’s big, innit? That throat feels so fuckin’ brilliant. Lemme feel it, baby. Just wanna feel it again. Fuck, yes!”

John thrust his cock in and out of your mouth fully for three or four pounding strokes, head thrown back in joyous agony, leaking precome onto your tongue, salty-sweet and warm.

He’d put you in the shower without the water on, playing with your nipples and kissing your neck at first, just sweet as a first love’s touch, but he had other plans.

Kissing turned to licking. Licking turned to teeth, and with them he’d subdued you, not allowing you to come but keeping you dripping, drawing out more and more of your fluid onto his hands, smearing it onto your lips and thighs, eating it off of his hands.

By the time he even allowed you to fall to your knees, you were practically begging to taste him, mewling and whining, your hands constantly fondling his growing length, eager like an addict.

And now, here you were, bruised and swollen, pink from your struggle, full of his hardness and sore from his challenging girth. He smiled down at you,

“Let me hear your screams. Scream my name around that cock. You look so hot when your mouth is full of me. Bloody hell, look at that.”

“Mmh?” You made an attempt, struggling to keep your eyes open you were so drunk from his power.

“Oh, fuck. Again,” he groaned, bucking forward uncontrollably.

“Mmhn! Mmhn, mmm,” you poured gasoline on his fire.

“Fuuuuuckkin’ hell. You wanna taste my come?”

“Mm hm,” you nodded, playing with your swaying breasts as he fucked your face against his hands.

“So goddamn pretty. Fuck -” John rutted forward, almost losing his balance as he spilled himself into your mouth, filling your cheeks with his melting saltiness. Cruelly, he forced himself back down, making you swallow him in order to have access to the air again.

“John!” You gasped as he released you, sitting on the tile beside you, panting just as hard as you were.

He chuckled darkly, jerking his softening cock in slow movements,

“C’mere, love. Clean me up with that tongue of yours.”

You bent forward, awkward against the biting tile, trying to lick the stray come on his shaft and balls, dutiful and diligent.

“Mmm, good girl. You’re so damn pretty when you’ve got my come on your lips like that. Gonna make me late for my speech.”

Captain John Price was receiving a Medal of Honor tonight, and Laswell had to threaten him with trainee duty in order for him to agree to attend. It was more meaningless “chest candy” - as Soap liked to call it - and he couldn’t have cared less.

“Can’t wait to see you all dressed up. You know how much I like you in that uniform, babe,” you kissed his neck chastely, begging for attention again, needy and wet from your work.

“Wish we could just stay in. I can smell your needy little cunt from here, and I wanna fill you up,” he stole your mouth to kiss and suck on your lips, not caring if he was covering you in spit and tasting his own come.

“Come on,” he said, breaking away for a moment, “Shower with me so I can play with you, baby.”

He helped you up and turned on the steaming water. It sprayed over your skin and made you dizzy from its heat. John held you in his arms and rubbed you down with soap, smearing it all over your breasts and plucking at your nipples indulgently.

You felt sparks rush through your core, and you struggled to form a coherent thought. Under his heavy control, you found yourself pliant and exceedingly needy.

“John, please. I need…please?”

“You need to come, don’t you? Is that what you’re beggin’ me for?”

“Yes,” you nuzzled against him, canting your hips shamelessly, presenting yourself to him like you were in heat, “Can you help me, please?”

“Sweet girl, so desperate, hm?”

John kissed your neck through the stream of hot water and sank his thick fingers deep into your pussy, thrusting in and out, curling his fingertips to press into your walls. His thumb drew languid circles around your clit as you trembled in his grasp, screaming and nearly crying from the searing pleasure.

“That’s it, baby. Use my hand to get off. Just like that. My pretty fucking slut, so good for me.”

“John - ah, fuck…” you lost your breath and gasped. The sensations rolled through you like a storm, lightning and thunder rumbling in your belly, flinging you into his chest to be crushed into his huge, looming frame.

He cradled you as you recovered, washing your hair and his, kissing you when and how he wanted, touching you when and how he wanted, claiming you as he saw fit. You surrendered to him, fully under his thrall. Price helped towel you off, and he braided your hair reverently.

You remained fully naked, but you began to help him dress for his event. His SAS dress uniform was black with a red stripe down the leg, a red sash, and a white belt. You zipped the fly of his pants and buttoned it together, making sure it sat exactly right on his waist. You helped him button his jacket, each one of the gold buttons slipping into the soft holes easily.

The silver belt buckle slipped into its socket, clicking securely into place. His huge shoulders and wide chest stretched the expensive fabric and swelled beneath it.

One by one, he held each of his medals in his hand, and you knew what was coming next.

“Go on, baby. Shine them up for me," He held the medal out to you and you licked your tongue across it, behaving as if the sharp stars were the soft head of his cock. Each time you finished your work, he allowed you to pin the medal to his chest, making sure each one was straight and true. Then, it began again. With each new medal, Price breathed harder and harder, his voice becoming strained as he praised you,

“Such a good fuckin’ girl. Fuck…”

When you were through with the chest candy, you pinned his spaulders and his sash. The silk felt cool to the touch. It clipped at his waist and you knelt between his knees as he sat, lifting his foot for you to put on his socks. He put his boots on, but waited for you to tie them. You laced his boots with experienced precision and looked up to admire your work.

He smiled down at you, glittering in his uniform, looking like a king,

“Thank you, baby. You take such good care of me. My sweet girl. You have one job left, you know…”

You nodded, blushing. You bent down on the ground and licked the edges of his boots, tasting the leather and smelling the oil on the laces. He pet your head and kissed your cheek when you finished, comforting you,

“You better be ready when I get back, baby. I’m not finished with that gorgeous mouth.”

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #john price #cod #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #afab reader #Female reader #x female reader

428 notes · View notes