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h0unds-of-h3ll · 2 years

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Strangers

One day he orders pizza, the next sushi. The delivery girl is much more interesting than the last guy. Doing what any person would; he invites her in.

Basil Stitt x reader smut.

Word count: 5k

Viewers beware you’re in for a scare with the: angst, fluff, smut, cute smut, hint of suicidal ideation, making out, talk of insecurities, language & explicit themes, shower smut, jerking off, unprotected sex, biting, groping, manhandling. I think that’s it, it’s the fluffiest thing I’ve written.

A/n: I’ve dug in the trenches for something about Basil and came up dry. So, I have taken the drought and came up with this. Enjoy!

His leg bounces up and down on the hardwood floor. Anxiety courses through his veins. Food is a necessary thing to survive, but getting said thing was worse than being naked in front of a stranger. He doesn’t know a lot of things. He knows that he’s been an abomination of nature since the accident. The one that’s made him cower in his cave. Gave him a legitimate excuse to bail out of every event. Gave him a lifelong, blatant insecurity. He doesn’t know how long he’s going to be locked in this self-made cage.

For the rest of his life, maybe. The purple hue of his tv illuminates his face. It showed each crevice and divot to the world. The stretch of skin which was dark and blistered was held brightly on a high podium. His gray eye glossed over with a hazy hue. He can see partially out of his vision wavering. The leg bounces and his heart thrums. He stares without a thought at the calm video playing before him. His brain was put on autopilot. The colors morph and shape and then burst into something much greater. He thinks about arranging his place into looking more presentable, but why? He doesn’t have guests.

It looks homier than it ever has to him. The mattress slanted in the wall is a pleasant touch. Soft rapping on his door makes him freeze. Shit. Visitors. His heart hurts, and his throat closes up. The door dash has arrived. You didn’t have a profile picture, just an icon. He remembers seeing she/her in a section. He’s curious beyond it actually what you look like. In his manic mind, he thinks of your arrival as a blind date. What your hair color is, what you smell like. Fuck. He’s deranged that was already stated, but he’s dropped off into falling for a stranger? He wheezes. His stomach churns and burns with excitement. He just knows he’ll like you, whoever you are. The issue was he couldn’t get up from his spot in the middle of the couch. Just do it, get it over with. He tries, but he can’t. The hitting of knuckles on his door sends him into a frenzy. He jumps from the most heavenly spot on the cushions. He’s practically running to find the brown mask.

Your fisted hand is in mid-knock before the door swings open. A huffing bagged man displayed before you. You didn’t think of anything at first but as the picture sinks in. You smile. The most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You push your hands out, handing him the white plastic that had red ‘thank you.’ In a line out. He doesn’t take it, not at all, he just stares. He can only barely see through the poor eye holes. What he can make out of you has him floored. His mouth dropped open and heavy breathing echoed in his helmet. Your head tilts and your eyes squint. You’re inquisitive of his current presence. Such an interesting constraint to the mundane things of the world. You like it, encourage the strangeness of him. The bag moves on the strangers broad shoulders. He looks behind you and to the sides. As if he’s expecting to find someone- something else behind you. He doesn’t speak when he goes to look back at you. His large stature resembles a mountain resisting entrance. The only thing blocking you from seeing his hysteria is himself.

“Here’s your food, sir.”

It comes out more than a hushed question, one that he doesn’t answer. He just makes a mental note of every feature of yours, to the tip of the strands of your hair, to your shoes. You look adorable in every sense of the world. Not the cute puppy adorable, but in a way that a flower blooms. The way the pollen settles in its petals for something else to live off of. To survive. It crosses his mind to open up to you. Lay all his cards on the table for you to see. All spectrums of his brain lights up at once. The first hit of coffee in the morning, the drag of a cigarette entering his lungs. He’s experiencing love at first sight. It can’t be that, can it? You couldn’t like the true him, the naked version of his face. He digs his hand into his pocket and draws up the wad of cash. He doesn’t bother counting it. He needs to escape, to run away. The unfamiliarity of the situation triggered his fight or flight. His brain resets and he throws the wad at you. He wrapped his large hands around the handles of the bags. His fingers momentarily brush against yours and a deep breath is caught in his throat. He holds it before stepping back with wide eyes. He moves back and his foot kicks the door close.

The locks click and you’re staring at the wood. Maybe it's burgundy. You blink dumbly at the hump of green by your shoe. You don’t entirely understand what has happened. Your brain can’t compute the oddity. Instead, you crouch down, taking the money and counting out the correct amount. Your job wasn’t the most rewarding, but you couldn’t live with the guilt of robbing the poor guy. Just from the looks of it, he was going through the thick of it. His back slams into the center of the door. The plastic sat aside. He slides down the base until he’s sat. He can’t breathe, the bag suffocating him. What did he just do? How rude of him to just slam the door and throw money at you. His skin crawls with nervousness.

The social interaction is too much. He had touched you, a glimpse into what could be. He watched your eyes trail over him. Were you taking him in too? God, what is he going to do? His eyes fall to the discarded takeout. He orders way more than he thought. About a week's worth of sushi. Most of it he bought. He felt the urge and acted on it without a second thought. There were similarities between the one he was going through now and the one he was going through before. He clasps his eyes shut and grits his teeth. Why can’t he be bold and courageous? Just ask her out. The worst you can say is no. He slowly lifts himself off the ground. His hand wrapped around the knob. He was hopeful to find you still there. He turns and steps aside. Your tiny fist hung in the air. Your other hand clutching his spare money he gave you. He doesn’t think before he speaks.

“Wouldyouliketocomeinandeat?”

One interrogative statement turned into one word. However, you fall on the stranger’s deep voice. Your mind runs over every syllable, dipping into the specific deep ones. The ones where his voice dropped into a sweet husk. You wonder if he’s asthmatic with the way he heaves. It’s cute, the puppy dog way. He’s eager and excited. It’s nice. Your head pivots with a soft smile. Accepting his invitation.

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”

His heart explodes, and a rush of blood runs to his head. A sharp stinging bite on his thighs licks up to his stomach. It’s progress, and he’s over the moon to know you want to get to know him. He’s blushing a deep crimson under the bag.

“I’d love to.”

~~~

He wished he would’ve cleaned. You admire the place. It’s an absolute mess, sure, but somehow it’s a work of art. Each thing has its place in the chaos. As you ponder curiously further into the madness. He’s swiping a few things and nick knacks behind you. Hiding them some place more suitable. His nerves were shot, and he was on high alert. He felt exposed, naked even. With the bag over his head, he can hide. With you carelessly waltzing into his home like you would in a museum, have him sweating bullets. Your hands tied behind your back and your head in the air.

You soak everything in, the art on his walls, the books. All of it, you can read a person like a book from their environment. You were sure that the man with the bag over his head was holding some baggage. You were a hound trying to sniff the red flags out, so far you’re only met with haphazard green ones. As you round the corner, you find the aura of the calm colors on the screen. You sit on the plush sofa. The plastic bags were hanging tightly in the palms of his hands. In front of you, he sits them down on a coffee table. He’s so rigid, he can’t be comfortable in his skin. He feels his skin prickling. He’s nauseous with the rapid breathing, you’re breathing the same he is. It’s driving him insane.

“Do you need anything, water or juice?”

He gestures around himself, almost forgetting his manners. He scratches the back of his neck. A nervous tendency he’s picked up over the years. You kicked your shoes off at the door, along with his money on the table.

“Actually..I don’t think I have any juice.”

He bites his lip, chewing the soft skin there.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s all he says before clamping his mouth shut. He must be such a poor excuse of a host. You shake your head with a smile.

“It’s okay, no worries.”

You pat the cushion beside you, signaling him to sit. He feels like a stranger in his own apartment. The way you imposed on his couch like you’re old friends. His head hurts. He takes your offer and his thighs stretch out as he sits the farthest away from you. He’s afraid that if he touches you, you’ll break. The sack on his head looks straight at the television set. You don’t mention the way you can hear him hyperventilate under the bag. You just admire him from afar. His tawny skin, enormous arms with thick thighs. He’s attractive, you can tell just from his form. You ponder if his face matches the rest of him. He’s invited you to share his dinner with you. But how is he going exactly? Your brows furrow as the questions pop into your skull.

“How do you see?”

You ask innocently, not an ounce of judgment on your words. You’re intrigued by him, and it makes him not be able to think.

“I don’t.”

He says bluntly, without a hint of amusement. His voice is monotone and quick.

“Well, I do. I’m not blind or anything.”

He laughs unnaturally. It's so painfully forced. You chuckle with him at the fascinating sound. It’s melodic even if it’s meticulously false. You’re interested to hear the natural version. You think of how detached he is from the world. The place and himself entirely. When was the last time he talked to someone outside of his circle? The orange hues of the meditation video casts across the bag. You should feel scared, fear him because he’s masked and different. But you don’t, you feel the opposite. You want to know his story, the lore of the bag. He shuffles uncomfortably under your gaze. His palms flat on his thighs, running over the length of them to ease the sweat. He’s leaking through his pores and his ears. It’s only a matter of time before he spills everything about himself to you.

“H-how-“

He stops, pursing his lips together during his brief interval. He thinks of his words before continuing.

“How long have you been working at the sushi place?”

It’s small talk, short and sweet, but you welcome it. A gentle smile, happy to indulge.

“I just moved here. I’ve only delivered a couple of weeks ago.”

Your eyebrows knit together on your face. The corners of your lips turn downwards, your eyes glossed over with a dull yellow.

“I’m sorry that I was late.”

You were late? He didn’t even know. It didn’t even cross his mind that you were. He didn’t care that you were. You were perfect to him in every way. He moves and adjusts the position he’s in. He’s trying to feel okay in his skin, but it feels impossible.

“It’s okay. I didn’t even notice.”

Every time he speaks, he goes through his words quickly. He doesn’t want to speak more than he has to. He wants to persevere with the mysteries of him. You beam up at him, your head quirks to the side.

“How ‘bout you? How long have you been here?”

You’ve actually stunned him. He doesn’t know the answer. He can’t remember. Was it in the fall or the summer? He can’t pin it.

“Long enough.”

You nod, taking his answer with a smile. You don’t want to pry on something he doesn’t want to tell.

“You asked for fugu. And if I recall correctly for the poisoned bit. It’s against regulation.”

You pause, chewing on your bottom lip. He notices that you’re like him. You understand him in your own way. You know the answer, yet you still ask it.

“All of this is technically against regulation, but I’ll never live with it unless I know.”

You quiet down again, thinking over the right words, your nose scrunching up. You finally will yourself to do it and blurt it out.

“Are you okay?”

He’s chosen to plead the fifth. He’s not okay from the look of the bag and the state of his apartment. But you’re questioning the sanity of his food choice. He falls for you hard. You’re worried about him. A total complete stranger that you’ve never met before. Yet you care, he feels like you authentically want the answer, so he does.

“Is anyone okay, like really? When you pass someone on the street and ask ‘are you okay?’ And they say I’m alright are they truly?”

He’s talked too much, revealing how pessimistic he is. When you don’t respond, he sinks into the cushions. You shared a beautiful connection with him and he has ruined it. He wants to shrivel up in a ball and perish. He’s dodged your question. He’s trying desperately to hide how far up shit’s creek he is and it fails. You have his throbbing heart in your small hand, all you have to do is squeeze, and he’s over. You turn your head while you think of your reply.

“I suppose not. I guess it’s more gratifying to yourself to lie and say that you care about a person's mental health than telling the truth.”

You sigh at the end of your melancholy answer. Leaning over to scoop up a cup of noodles and a pair of sticks. Setting the cup on your lap and opening it.

“So, my conclusive answer is no. I don’t think anyone is truly okay.”

It’s quiet, the tension is so abundant. It’s suffocating. He muses your words carefully. He watches you slurp the noodles between your lips. The wet smack sounding through the silent room. He wonders if you can hear his beating heart. You’re so well thought out and independent from everyone else he’s ever met. He’s floored with intrigue.

“You didn’t answer my question, though.”

You frown up at the big bag. A socked foot prods at his thigh. Slurping a final noodle before dropping the sticks into the opening and putting the white box on the table.

“I asked if you were okay, not that anyone else was.”

He groans, looking up at the ceiling. He pulls your legs over his broad thighs. His large hands spread along your calves.

“No. I don’t think I am.”

Your frown deepens, and your eyes fill with sorrow. An idea blossoms into your mind. You swing a leg over his lap. The hidden man freezes entirely. He doesn’t breathe; he doesn’t move. He’s a statue.

“Now, if anything feels uncomfortable, tell me and I’ll stop entirely.”

You don’t move and hold your hips above him. The brown bag moves as he nods. Your knees spread wide with the meaty limbs.

“It’s a social experiment. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”

You look into the dark circles where his eyes should be. Blinking blankly at the holes.

“That’s a lie. I cooked up this idea three seconds ago, but that’s besides the point.”

The tops of your thighs are where his hands fall. His thumbs are smoothing over the fabric of your jeans. His fingers wrapping around the crevice of them. He’s warm, and all too hot. You look down at his evidence of affection. You blush at the realization that he’s encouraging you, coaxing you to continue your nervous rambling. The stretch of your thighs licks at your pussy. His hands on your body spurs you onward. Your hands go underneath the bag. Cupping the sides of his neck. He’s damp with sweat, but your soft hands on him make his breathing quicken. You want to know what his breath feels like on your skin.

“Scary isn’t it?”

Your voice is sultry, and he’s seduced entirely by it. He’s eaten up by you, body and soul. You can feel the rumble of his voice box when he speaks.

“Yeah.”

He tries to hide his losing composure, but it’s sand in a cipher. You move your hands higher to his jaw, the bag moves and he panics. His large hands bounce off your legs to wrap around your wrists.

“Wait!”

You tilt your head curiously, wondering if you’ve overstepped a boundary. You wait for him to continue, but he never does. He tries to think of an out and he can’t. His hands drop back to where they were originally. The hold on your thighs tighter. You hand the duck and go to trace the sharpness of his jaw. You feel him grit his teeth together. You continue to unveil him. When the bag falls behind the couch. You sigh, sitting down fully on his lap. His head jolts to the side to hide his accident. He can’t bear it to you. It’s too barbaric. Your hands never leave his face.

“Damn. I was kinda expecting you to be ugly.”

He huffed a laugh of disbelief. His head is looking at you fully. You see his scar. The bright skin stretching and pulling. It’s discolored, deep browns and reds. It adorns his skin proudly. It matches him perfectly. His eye is glazed over gray. Suddenly everything about him makes sense and you swoon.

“Excuse me?”

You smile at him, his eyes crinkling when his lips turn up. Your fingers trace over the abused skin delicately. Burning it into memory.

“Thought you were going to be ugly ‘cuz of the bag.”

In an instant, he rebuttals your statement. His thumb digging slightly into you.

“Am I?”

You shake your head no, smiling brightly at him. You lift slightly, pressing a kiss to his injury. He shutters and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His cock stirring at your lips on his sensitive skin.

“Not at all.”

You kiss his nose, and of course he has to scrunch it. You go back to sit fully on his lap. Your hands cupping the base of his neck. Your thumbs are coming to run over the stubble on his jaw. He smirks down at you.

“Can’t say the same about you.”

His voice rumbles, and his hands rise to your sides. The pads of his fingers dig in and you scoff playfully. Rolling your eyes dramatically.

“You’re a menace.”

He nods, he pulls you to his chest before pulling you to lay on your back. He slots himself between your open legs. Your thighs wrapped around his waist. You can feel the bulge in his jeans weigh heavy in your core. Warmth spreads over your stomach and your head feels light, full of air. He leans on his forearms on the sides of your head. His weight on top of you is crushing, but you love the ambience. He feels like one of those expensive weighted blankets. His nose was a few inches away from touching yours. His dark and light eyes flick across your face and fall to stare at your lips. The peck you’ve given him makes him think of how'd they feel on him.

“I am, but if I’m too much of one, then tell me.”

His voice was husky and mixed with sincerity. Your pussy flutters and you rack your brain for fleeting intelligence. You grin and bite his shoulder. His white shirt dampens with your saliva. He winces and falls slightly onto you.

“Doubt it, with the way you’re blushing.”

He hides his face deep into your neck. You’ve called him out on his bluff. The blush burns up his neck to the tops of his ears. His stubble scratches against the sensitive part of your neck. He grows meek and shy. However sweet he tries to be, you can feel him throb inside his pants. Your fingers thread through his hair, your nails scrape along his scalp. His hips buck and you slide up onto the couch.

“Fuck.”

Groaned softly into the side of your neck. He turns to press his lips there.

“I think I like you.”

He breathes warmly into you. The declaration is more of a promise to you. He knows he’s only met you, but he can envision his whole life with you. You nod your head, agreeing with him. Your fingers tug at a few strands that are tangled together.

“I think I’d like you a lot more if I gave you a shower.”

~~~

He’s not entirely sure how he’s achieved this level of heaven. How’d exactly he swoon you into getting in the shower with him? His cock is heavy on your hip. The steam clogging up the mirror, droplets spewing over the two of you. His mop of dark curls slicked back. Precipitation clouded on both of your skin. He almost passed out when he undressed you. He tried to stay innocent minded, but god he couldn’t. His gigantic hands roaming your body, groping and pulling what he can. Handfuls of plush skin pushed into his palms. He’s in his mind palace and anointed the fuck out.

“I think you’re feeling me more than bathing.”

His hands fall and you smile. Turning to face him. Water drops off the bridge of his nose and patters to the ground. Your hands go to his chest. The burning skin is pleasing to feel.

“Didn’t say that I hated it.”

He groans when your small hands run down his long arms and drag them up to your chest. He’s amazed and mesmerized by the feel of you. Your breasts fill his hands perfectly. Your nipples poking at his palms, begging to be touched. When his fingers go to pluck the bud, you moan high in your throat. He sighs, his eyes never leaving your chest.

“You’re so pretty.”

His wet curls shake on his head and his hands fall to his sides again, his head bowed. His eyes staring at your feet.

“What the hell are you doing with a guy like me?”

You’re confused about what he means, but you understand when he turns to hide. His back to you. The curls around his neck and ears coated with water. The water hits his shoulders harshly as he stands straight underneath the faucet. He wants to sulk about his insecurities. He’s limiting himself, ridding himself of the pleasure of having you. Maybe that’s why he’s so attractive. He’s more worried about your pleasure than anything else. You rise on your tiptoes, placing your chin on his shoulder. He feels your jaw move when you talk.

“I dunno. Thought I was having a steamy encounter with an attractive stranger.”

He squints his eyes at the tile. Huffing a dark laugh. He can feel your chest rise on his back. Your pubic hair on his ass.

“Seductive word play.”

He doesn’t turn his head to address you. You kiss up to his face, pressing a quick peck to the crimson skin.

“Can think of a few other things that are enticing.”

Your hand flattens to the side of his waist. He pulls away slightly, then settles back onto you. You move your hand snaking around his hip bone. His breathing stutters. The feeling of you burns him from the inside out. He forgets his insecurities when your hand wraps around the base of his rock hard cock. You lazily fist his growing length.

“S-stranger.”

He growls deep in his chest. He says it like a forbidden word. His hand comes to push on the tile in front of him. He thrusts into your hand. His ass coming to hit back into you, then push up into your hand rapidly. The musky scent of him is potent. His other hand comes to push back his fallen hair. He nearly drowns in the water that rains on him. You fall flat on your feet, your mouth coming to nip at his back. You kiss, then your teeth come out to play, leaving deep red marks on his dark skin.

“Think we’re more than that at this point.”

Your tongue lays flat on the defined muscle of his shoulder, lapping at the damp skin. After a stern tug, you hold him at the base. His hips buck up into your stilled hand. You tilt your head, looking up at the side of his face. You give him your best puppy dog eyes.

“Don’t you agree?”

His breath quickens, a pained expression paints across his face. Your other hand comes around to scratch at the coarse hair at his pubic bone.

“Yeah.”

He whimpers, his head thrown back when you continue to pull at him. You stroke him ferociously, grabbing filthy moans from him. The hand at his mound dips to cup his balls. The pawing makes him almost topple over that big hill of a climax. His balls draw up and he feels himself pour from his tip. Before he can fully lose himself, he quickly tears your hands from him. He pivots and slams your body into the side of the wall. His large hand is going to capture your tiny wrists. He holds them high above your head. His cock jutting against your naval. He didn’t know how he didn’t slip and crack his head open, but he looked suave as hell manhandling you like this. His eye is swirling with deep lust, his other glossy. Everything is fiery. He shoves his face into your neck. Your chest rising and plummeting. His warm tongue is flat on the side of your neck. His lips ghost over the shell of your ear.

“Not gon’ last with your hands on me like that.”

His hand that was holding your wrists releases. Your hands fall on his broad shoulders, feeling the tendons shift and grind. trails down to your thigh and he hitches it over his hip. You smirk, you’ve broken him. Twisted him into a demented pervert. You quirk an eyebrow at him.

“How long do you think you’re going to last?”

Your attempt to rile him up works. His hand leaves your thigh to come down to his cock. He doesn’t look away from you as he drags his length along your folds. You're slick coating him. He runs from top to bottom, his ruddy head tracing over your clit. He threatens to dip inside your entrance, but then he traces back to your clit. Your chest juts out, and he smiles. His eyes crinkled with mischief.

“Let’s find out.”

He tightens his grip around himself before pushing into the resistance of your tight cunt. With one quick thrust, he bottoms out. A high whine boils out of your open mouth. He buried himself inside you far quicker than he expected. You fit him perfectly. The silky stretch pools in your stomach. Your cunt flutters around him, he moans. Your collarbone has his lips on it. His hand wraps around your thigh with a death grip. His fingers digging into your skin, surely to leave deep bruises. He moves and all hell breaks loose. He pistons his hips in and out of your spongy core.

The pace is irregular and sloppy. You wonder when was the last time he’s had sex. He’s knowledgeable about how to please a woman, but his restraint is unhinged. With each thrust, the resistance of your heat grows minimal. He punches high pitched whines out of your pretty throat. The grip on your thigh tugs at the connection of his hips. It’s messy and bad, but you love it. With every push, he nearly leaves your aching cunt. He pulls back till the thick head of his cock is left and then slams his length back into your slicked hole. The wet smack is music to him. He nearly slips out from his erratic thrusts. His lips leave you for the first time in a while.

“C-can I pick you up?”

He’s hesitant and the way he says it is more rhetorical than anything. He moves his face from you staring at your blissed out state. You nod quickly and bite your lip harshly.

“If you can.”

He smiles, and the skin stretches beautifully. His other hand coming to the underneath of your other thigh. Before you know it, he’s lifting you up off the ground. He wraps your legs around his waist. His cock barely inside of you, he positions you on the tile with a huff. He shoves you higher than needed on the slick wall. His hands grope your ass. He plummets his cock deep in you. You cry out, clawing at his back. He hisses, his fingers nearly sliding into your asshole. His cock hits deeper and that part in you that makes you sob. Your thighs shake and he pounds into you.

You can’t speak and your thighs wrap tight around his strong waist. Your heels push into his ass, guiding him to leave no space between the two of you. His lips are on yours in an instant. It’s wet and sloppy like everything else. His tongue delves into your mouth greedily. His teeth tugging at your bottom lip. The pain mixes with the delightful tug of the pleasure. His fingers tugging you harshly into the sharp snap of his hips. You weigh nothing when he pounds into you. He captures all the pretty noises you give him. He can feel your pussy weep for him and clench. His dick pumping through you makes him lose control. He leans back, leaving your lips kiss, swollen and bitten raw. His neck was drawn back on his shoulders. He moans deep and heavy in his chest.

“So fucking pretty.”

You smile dumbly, nipping at his clavicle. His hips stutter.

“Wish I could say the same about you.”

You bite. His eyes cut at you sharply. His hips slow their pace. Your nails dig into his back. It’s too slow and you’re too close for him to tease you like this.

“Oh?”

One of his hands leaves your ass to come to your clit. He moves you so you’re balanced on his hips and held up by his forearm. You nod at him, strands of wet hair falling. Your eyes glint deviously.

“Mhm.”

He thinks about your response momentarily. Running over all the evil ideas he can do to you. He lingers his length in a painful drag. Your hand comes to trace over his scar. He nuzzles his face into your palm. Looking doe eyed at you, full of love and bliss.

“Think you’re prettier than me.”

Your voice gets caught in your throat. And that’s it, he fucking loses it. He rolls his hips into yours. The hand that was once on his face goes to the back of his head. Tying in the messy curls. You pull his head to your face, kissing him deeply. His thumb rubbing quick circles onto your bud. You jump from him, your thighs tightening their hold. Your cunt milks him. Your body spasms and convulses, he just continues to fuck you through it. He has your cum on his stomach and thighs. You squirted.

“Did you?”

You nod against his warm forehead. With big dumb eyes staring up at him, that does it for him. He ruts deep into you, pulls all the way back, and pushes all the way back in. Long spurts if cum hitting deep inside your channel. The warmth fills you to the brim. He thrusts lazily into you. His cum spilling over his thighs. He’s drawing out his prolonged high. He presses his soft lips to the side of your burning head.

“N-never made someone do that before.”

He blushes bashfully, feeling pride bloom in his chest. You smile at him. His cock slips from you with ease, more of his cum spills out of your hole. He helps you stand on unsteady legs. You beam brightly at him. Your hands on his chest.

“Never had that good of sex before.”

He bows his head, smiling to himself. He scratches the back of his head.

“Glad to be of service.”

You nod, dipping your fingers over the ridges of his chest. You peck him on the lips before resting your chin on his chest. He grips you to him, afraid that you’ll accidentally hurt yourself if he lets go.

“By the way, now that I think of it. I don’t know your name.”

He grows eerily quiet. How could he not have told you such a basic thing? He just fucked your brains out and you don’t know who did it to you. He removes a hand from you; he sticks it out to you. You take his hand, shaking it as a formal introduction.

“Basil.”

He mutters. You say your name in return and he smiles. The tarnished skin of the side of his face lifts, wrinkles on top of wrinkles move. His eyes light up and you think you can see that he has a dimple. He thinks that you’ve given him the most angelic title for him to call you by. You smile, the rain hitting his back, shielding you from it.

“Nice to meet you, stranger.”

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romanarose · 4 months

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Favorites of 2023

Hi! I've seen a lot people doing these so I thought I would too!

These are all sorts of Oscar Issac/Pedro Pascal fics that delighted me this year <3

I tried to keep it to one rec per author just because I have soooooo many friends with wonderful fics and blogs who deserve recognition

If yours didn't make it, NO FEAR you are still wonderful to me <3

Everything is labeled properly in the fic so be warned, many of this contains dark!

3 series that I couldn't stop thinking about

Hungry Hearts By @atinylittlepain: The Last of Us, A Bruce Springsteen themed Joel series? SHEEEEEEEESH

Yearling by @justagalwhowrites : The Last of Us, Jackson!Joel and a victim of prolonged sexual assault. If you know me, you know I love a traumatized reader healing with the power of love and friendship

The Fractured Moon by @melodygatesauthor : Moon Knight, NON CON, dark moon boys is always a slay but the way Marc is so tortured and Steven is so needy?!?!?!?! Mels characterization of Steven may or may not have influenced my Ben in ROF

Three fics that rewired my brain

On the Waterfront by @beefrobeefcal : Triple Frontier, Now, I've always loved a tubby man with a belly (who else had a crush on Samwise Gamgee in LOTR?) BUT DARK FRANKIE?!?!?!?! Turned it into a full obsession.

I can be your pretty girl by @walkintotheriveranddisappear : The Last of Us, Wow, I devoured every single chapter!!! I thinka bout it so much, ESPECIALLY that scene with Tommy... I've never looked at a pool ball the same way.

Dancing With Wolves by @hon3yboy : Moon Knight, Now, I'm not the biggest monster fucker out there, but this?!?!?!?! WEREWOLF MARC SPECTOR??? Unwell about it.

3 times men jerking off was hot

Caught by @toxicanonymity : The Last of Us, I've mentioned in the authors note for Keep Cry'n that this fic inspired it, it's one I go back to allllll the time

Take Care of me Tonight by @missdictatorme : Moon Knight, Jake is horny and lonely and jerks of..... reader helps, and makes our boy feel special <3

Pent Up by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin : Narcos, Javi is... well... pent up, needs to let loose! and boy does he.

4 times it got gay bc something is wrong with me and I couldn't decide

Behind Enemy Lines by @astroboots : Triple Frontier, Y'all know how much I love this series, seeing as I wrote a fic for it XD but this chapter is something i always hold close <3

Captain of the team by @writefightandflightclub : Triple Frontier, MAAAAAANNNNN this fic is why I will never be the same as a person.

Trine by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction : Sucker Punch. Anyone who reader blue jones should be reading this. Incredible.

What if he never had to go? by @velocibeewords : Triple Frontier, The infamous series I read on my friend bachelorette weekend! So good I couldn't put it down, going so far as to read it at a casino XD Benny and Santi, my babies

3 times underused characters shined

Oxford Comma by @whatthefishh : The Two Faces of January, Tell me, how does someone take a character with almost no following and make a series so damn beloved by many??? Only Mona could.

My Ex's Tapes by @runa-falls : Lighteningface, Basil Stilt AND Jake Lockley??!?! God bless this mess hnnggggg

I'm Getting What's Mine by @winniethewife : The Card Counter, dub con, I think we as a society need more William Tell, and sensory deprivation to break down reader? Amazing.

3 times they talked dirty to me *trumpet noises*

Not a Survivalist Girl by @tightjeansjavi and @chaotic-mystery : The Last of Us, when they finally fuck??? HELLO?!?!! unreal

Only Daddy That'll Walk the Line by @millerscoffee : The Last of Us, Joel is so degrading and condescending in this I think about it so much it's fucking unreal.

Making Trouble by @juneknight : Moon Knight, The fic that completly fried the brains of the moon knight fandom. "You cried like I was killing you—except you were begging me not to stop" yeah. Yeah...

3 times there were three or more

The story of us by @pimosworld : Triple Frontier, This series has a special place in heart bc Priscilla said I influenced a lo of it with the characterizations and thats such a big honor. Priscilla Is so talented and I adore how she writes these guys... and the FishBen wins my heart

Eyes on Me by @cavillscurls : The Last of Us, Soft Joel? Tommy watches? AFTERCARE?!?!?! Y'all know how much I love aftercare.... I should read this again shouldn't I?

Run the Table by @katiexpunk : The Last of Us, MORE TOMMY JOEL THREESOME! MORE!!!! This one came out recently so its still fresh in my mind

3 Times I should NOT have been into that

No Soul to Sell @atticrissfinch : The Last of Us, NON CON V DARK, this is the fic that made me like... yeah I'm into piss. No doubt. It was so dark and hot ;-;

Plushies Series by @pedge-page The Last of Us, Haru knows how much I love this, and it was a toss up between this and their piss kink but seeing as I got that above.... plushes needs more love bc its so soft and domestic and horny <3

Plaything by @missannwinchester : The Last of Us, wow, I adored this fic… then I lost it!!!! Thank you to everyone who helped find it bc it’s one of my favs. I wanna be Joel’s lil doll he dresses up 🥺

3 times I said “this is underrated af”

No One But Me by @koshkamartell : The Last of Us, Are y'all tired of me talking about this fic yet? Koshka told me my series The Wrong Way inspired this so it's special to my heart <3

Safe by @criticallyacclaimedstranger and @apascalrascal : Triple Frontier, Cal has so many good Frankie one shots it was hard to pick, but this one is sooooo soft. We love Frankie being willing to listen and learn.

Through the Scope by @ssuperficialspacecadett : Triple Frontier, Y'all know I love a traumatized reader learning to heal, but his fic is fantastic bc it's a traumatized reader who has done a lot of the work already and is strong and brave as it is <3 Also, all 4 of the guys are her friends now which is the best way to have a fic

Thank you all soooooo much for all these amazing fics and for a great 2023! Well. Not so great, I had terrible time lol but y'all were my solace <3

If you feel so inclined, check out my best of year wrapped for both RomanaRose and Romana-after-dark

I'm not gonna say 2024 is my year, I leanred my lesson XD I am approaching 2024 with RESPECT. It will be the year it is.

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