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crashandlivewrites · 23 days

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Cherry Pie

A wondering happy birthday to my sweet Cherry @soapsgf who wanted some soft and sweet romantic smut with big dicked Simon. This one's for you, darling <33

Pairing: Simon Riley x fem!reader (Cherry)

Summary: It's been a while since you've been intimate with a partner, and Simon takes good care of you.

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, cunnilingus, fingering, consent checks, first time between partners, big dick Simon, unprotected piv, creampie

Word Count: 4.2k :))))

Simon was your first partner after a long, long stint of failed dates. You’d met him by chance, out one night with a group of friends when you’d bumped into a solid mass of muscle walking out of a bar. He’d caught you, set you right on your feet with a few words of being careful of your surroundings before seemingly melting into the shadows, despite his size.

The next morning, you’d stopped by a local cafe. The barista called your name and you grabbed your drink, spinning around quickly only to have a heavy set of hands grip you tightly. Panicking for a moment, you looked up, ready to try and fight off your attacker, when you took in the strangely familiar face.

“You’re… you…”

“That’s twice within twelve hours, sweetheart. Starting to think you’re making a habit of this.” His voice was accented, deep, and gravelly, making your hair stand on end.

“I didn’t meant to— I’m sorry—”

“It’s fine, doll. You couldn’t take me out even if you tried.” He huffed out a chortle at that and you felt your face shift into an expression of mild amusement. Then, with a surge of confidence you weren’t even aware you possessed, you met the heavy gaze of his dark eyes.

“No, but I can give you my number, and then maybe you can take me out instead.”

The man blinked, the smile still ghosting on his cheeks as he tilted his head, watching you. Suddenly, it felt like he was scrutinising every aspect of your appearance and you ducked your head, feeling your face heat.

“Ah forget it, sorry, I just—” You’d moved to exit the cafe, but a firm arm wrapped around your waist.

“I’ll take you up on that offer, if it’s still on the table.” Blinking in surprise, you looked up at him. One corner of his lips was twitched up into a smirk, his brow slightly raised and you couldn’t help but feel your lips pull into a grin as you nodded.

“Name’s Simon.” He told you as you quickly scribbled your number on a piece of paper. As you handed it to him, he opened in and frowned slightly. “No name?”

“Take me on that date, Simon, and you might be lucky enough to get it.” The smile that broke out on his face made your stomach flip, and somehow you knew this was the start of something.

•

Several months down, you and Simon had settled into a steady routine. Whenever he was back from deployment, he slotted himself neatly into your life, as if he hadn’t missed a beat. It was refreshing, to have someone like him, someone who was willing to work through things, instead of ignoring them.

Including sex.

You’d first breached the topic with him a few months in. He’d come back from deployment and there was something about him in his gear, still sweaty and dirty from his time out. Simon had stood there, leaning against your doorframe as you’d opened the door and you felt your heart rate pick up.

The look in your eyes had clearly sparked something in him, and he surged inside, kicking the door closed and pressing his mouth to yours. He steered you towards the couch pressing you against the back of it before one of his hands ran up the back of your leg roughly, hitching it around his waist.

In a moment of panic, realising where this was going, you broke the kiss, a firm hand placed in the centre of his chest. Though his brows furrowed, he acknowledged the look on your eyes, and slowly let you down. Fear bubbled inside you at the thought of possibly upsetting him, but he placed a reassuring hand on your cheek.

“It’s alright, doll. Just talk to me.”

“It’s… been a while.”

“We don’t have to do anything,” He said gently, thumb stroking your cheekbone. “Not until you’re ready.”

“But you want it—” A thumb pressed against your lips, stopping your words before you could finish your sentence.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, lovie. If you’re not feeling it, or you’re not ready, I’m not going to force it.”

Swallowing thickly, you looked up into his earnest eyes and realised that, yes, he’s different from the rest.

“I still want to kiss you, though.” Your words were softly spoken, but were met with a chuckle as Simon tilted your head back, cupping your head.

“Kissing I can definitely do for you.”

•

The time came a month or so later. Simon had messaged in the early afternoon, telling you to get all dolled up and pretty because he was going to take you out for the evening. He turned up at your doorstep, dressed in cleanly pressed black pants with a black button-down shirt he’d rolled up to expose his thick forearms. You couldn’t help but let your mouth drop open slightly as he leaned against your bedroom door, watching you as you fiddled with your hair.

Turning around, you got a better look at him, allowing your eyes to unabashedly trace over his broad, thick body. Chuckling, Simon stepped forward, making his way over to you. As he stood in front of you, the soothing scent of cologne wafted over towards you. Unable to stop the sound, you let out a breathy whine and he smirked.

“See something you like, doll?” His hands slid up and down your sides before leaning down to press a kiss against your cheek. “Come on, we’ll be late.”

He’d made you feel spoiled, treating you to an exquisite dinner at some ridiculously fancy place. You were unable to stop your eyes flitting over to him and admiring just how damn attractive he was as the pair of you sat in the low ambient lighting of the restaurant. Finally as you were headed back home, you were struck with the idea that maybe, just maybe, you felt ready. Simon had always made you feel safe, why should this be any different?

When you arrived home, Simon knelt down, lifting one of your legs up gently to remove your shoes. Placing a soft kiss to your knee, he gently lowered it back down with a hand on the back of your calf. He repeated the process on the other leg before pushing himself up to press a kiss to your cheek. He made a move to walk away, but your hand on his wrist stopped him.

Though you didn’t talk right away, Simon stood there patiently, waiting for you to find the words.

“Simon...” You murmured trailing off as the words evaded you, choosing to flutter your lashes up at him instead. He looked at you, eyes darkened, tilting his head slightly as he calculated his next words

“What’s on your mind, doll?”

“I want you.” The words were soft, but firm. Simon, the tease that he was, lifted a brow in mock surprise.

“You want me to do what?” He smirked, staring down at you expectantly. The grip you had on his wrist tightened.

“I’m ready. And I want— no— need you to fuck me, Simon.” You could see the change in him, as if a switch had flicked over in his mind.

“Are you sure?” His voice was rough, layered thickly with desire, but still present enough to look deep into your eyes. “Need to hear those words again, pretty girl.”

“Yes, Simon,” You assured him, chest rising and falling as you breathed heavily, “I want you.”

The words broke his resolve and he dove in to seal his lips against yours, moaning softly at the contact. He’d kissed you countless times before, but even you could feel the difference in this one. It was intense and heated, his hands sliding up and down your back and squeezing at your body before he quickly pulled back, panting.

“Anything that’s too much— too quick— too rough, you tell me, promise?” The gruffness made your hair stand on end, and you shivered in his arms.

“I promise, Si.” Groaning, he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, one large hand cupping the back of your head as he nipped along the column of your throat.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good lovie, I promise.” Letting out a soft whine, you ran your hands down his chest, squeezing the soft flesh around his waist as you pulled him closer to you, pressing your hips forward. Simon’s breath hitched before he let out a growl.

“Bedroom. Now.”

The pair of you hurriedly made your way to the bedroom, mouths never leaving each other’s as you finally felt the doorknob and pushed it open. Having barely stepped into your room, he broke the kiss, spinning you around so he could tug down the zipper of your dress. Moaning softly, he allowed his hands to caress your bare skin as he mouthed up your neck once more. The dress fell to the floor, leaving you almost bare compared to his mostly clothed body.

He spun you around and, with frightening ease, Simon lifted you up, hooking your legs around his waist as he strode quickly over to the bed. Placing you down gently, he pushed you back so you hit the pillows. Nudging your legs apart with his thighs, he ran his hands over your legs, cupped your ass before sliding up your back.

“So fucking pretty for me.” He whispered, eyes heady as they stared down at you, hair fanning over the pillow as your chest rose and fell rapidly. Unable to hold himself back, Simon threaded a hand through your hair, gently pinning you to the bed as he lowered his mouth to your neck once more.

Your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, tugging them open so you could get your hands on the glorious expanse of his chest. His skin was rough, littered with lumps from old cuts and scars, and you wanted to map every bit of it. He seemed to be doing the same to you. His large, calloused hands tracing up and down your body, worshipping every inch of skin as his mouth kissed down your chest and stomach.

“Lemme taste that pretty pussy of yours.”

Pulling up, he lifted your hips and tugged your underwear off, before pausing, eyes drawn down to the drenched fabric. Running a thumb over it, you watched as his face pulled into a smirk before he tucked the panties into the pocket of his slacks.

“Still feeling alright, lovie?” A brow was raised in question as he looked at you, fingers tapping on your hip as he waited for a response.

“Yeah. Please.” Reaching for his hands, you squeezed them gently, causing him to let out a chuckle.

“Good girl.”

Settling down between your legs, he pushed them apart before dragging his tongue up your wet slit and moaning as he did so. It was wet, messy, and sloppy, but god it felt good to have someone tonguing your pussy like they knew how to.

Drawing your lip between your teeth, you cut off a moan that was threatening to break free when Simon pulled away to stare up at you.

“None of that now, doll. Let me hear you. All of you.” He grunted, sealing his mouth back over your cunt with determination. As he moaned, the vibrations ran through you, making you shiver and gasp. Hearing the sound of your breath hitching, he dug his fingers into your hips, pulling you harder against his mouth. That action made a moan break from you, hands threading through the short, blonde hair as he ravished you.

It wasn’t long before you felt the familiar, toe-curling feeling you’d only been able to give yourself and your breathing change, morphing into soft pants and pleas as your fingers tightened in his hair. Instead of changing his rhythm like you’d had other partners do, Simon kept the same, allowing you to press and roll your hips over his mouth and you needed to find the right spot.

When you did, your whole body twitched as you let out a moan, arching your back as your legs shook. Simon practically growled into your cunt, eyes flashing open to stare up at you, taking in every slight reaction you gave him. Looking down, you stared into his eyes, dark and hungry which caused your stomach to flip.

Brows drawing together, your body shivered and you reached down to grip one of his hands as your mouth dropped open as you felt your orgasm wash over you with a cry of his name. Simon grunted, letting out a moan of his own and held you tight to his mouth as you climaxed.

Breathing heavily, you groaned softly, pushing at his head, but he refused to move, mouth moving down so the ridge of his nose pressed against your clit as he tongued your cunt. He pressed a thumb to the hood of your clit, flicking over it as his other hand kept tight hold of your leg, pressing his tongue deep into you.

Groaning at your taste, he didn’t stop until he felt your walls shaking around his tongue and your hands tugged more viciously at his hair as you moaned loudly. Managing to get your foot into his shoulder, you shoved him back, looking down to see his smug grin, chin wet and shining with your slick.

“Still good, lovie?” Though his face was feral, his voice was soft and questioning. Choking out a laugh, you clapped a hand over your eyes.

“Yeah… just… fuck.” He hummed in approval, pushing himself up to slide up next to you, his hand tracing lightly up your thigh.

“Need a break?” The smug grin was back as he looked down at you, earning him a slap to the chest.

“No, but I can help you—” Before you could even begin to reach down for his trousers, he gripped your hand and pinned it above your head.

“No need, pretty girl. This is about you.”

“But you—” He pressed his mouth to yours, kissing you deeply as you tasted yourself on his lips. Tracing a hand over your chin, he pulled away, looking down at you.

“This is about you.” He repeated, with more sincerity. “For you, at your pace. Do you want to keep going?”

“Yes!” The reply was quick your mouth, barely before he’d even finished the question. A wolfish grin spread over his face and his hand gripped your hip.

“Good fucking girl.” He groaned, hand moving to trail his fingers between your legs. Circling your clit slowly, he breathed soft words of praise into your ear as you whined for him, rolling your hips to meet his rough digits.

“Look at you. So soft for me. So pliant. You’ve been desperate for it, haven’t you? Don’t worry, doll, I’m gonna make it so good for you.”

As if it were the easiest thing for him, he brought you closer to another orgasm. You could feel the heat coiling in your gut as he kept rubbing over the sensitive bud, pinning your legs apart with his.

“Don’t hide from me, pretty girl. Let me see everything. Wanna know how good I’m making you feel, how wet you are for me.”

“Simon…” Your back arched, hand reaching out to grip his body for support. He drew you into his chest, fingers unrelenting between your legs as he held you against the firmness of his chest, covered by a soft layer of fat. Tipping your head back on his shoulder, you gasped out another moan as you came yet again.

“Fuck yes. My good girl. Look so pretty when you come for me like that. Gonna finger you now, yeah? Stretch that tight cunt out nice for me.”

Mewling in his arms, you turned your head, shaking it slightly.

“Cock, Simon. Want your cock.”

“I know you do, greedy girl. But patience for me, yeah?”

“No!” Whining, you pressed your hips back against his. Letting out a huff, Simon moved quickly. Pushing you down onto the bed, he nestled himself between your legs, dress shirt crumpled as your eyes trained down to the swelling bulge in his pants. Smirking, he raised a brow.

“Yeah, pretty girl. That’s why. Gimme your hand.” Grabbing your wrist, he pulled it down so your palm was pressed against his crotch and he thrust his hips forward. Squeezing your hand around him, you took in the full weight and thickness of his cock, and swallowed thickly.

“Fuck you’re big.” You blinked your eyes up to him, and the corner of his lips twitched into a wider smile.

“Exactly, my pretty doll. Need to make sure you’re all nice and lax for me. Need to get that pretty cunt all soaked and messy before you even think about getting my cock.”

Releasing your wrist, he turned his attention back to your pussy, where one of his thick fingers circled your entrance, collecting your slick. Smirking darkly, he leaned down and spat directly on your cunt, making you jerk and moan at the feeling. Spreading his saliva, he plunged his finger into you, and the pair of you moaned in sync.

He was a vision between your legs. Still mostly clothed, but looked debauched with his shirt pulled open and the sleeves rolled up. The black ink on his tattooed forearm rippled as he thrust his fingers into you. Grunting, his jaw clenched as his eyes were trained on your pussy, watching the wetness soak his finger.

“Look at you, so fucking eager for it. Can feel you clenching around me. Think you can fit another finger?” Without much preamble, he slid in a second finger with a low breath. “Good girl. Good fucking girl. God, you feel so good. Can’t wait to feel this tight little pussy round my dick.”

Squirming underneath him, you clung to the sheets, keeping your legs spread for him as your eyes rolled back into your head in pleasure.

“Fuck, Simon… oh my god.” The erotic, slick sound of his fingers entering your cunt repeatedly filled your ears. Panting, you reached out a hand and gripped his shirt.

“No no no, not done yet. You’re getting another in you. Come on, pretty thing. You can do it, you can do it, I know you can. Be good for me, yeah?”

You couldn’t resist. Between the sound of his voice, the way he pinned you so easily against him, the way his fingers curled inside of you…

A third finger pressed at your entrance and you sucked in a breath, eyes flashing open as you stared into his eyes. The fist you had clenched in his shirt tightened, pulling him down as you grit your teeth. Simon lowered his head, pressing his forehead against yours as the third finger slowly pressed in.

A guttural moan broke from your throat at the burn of the stretch, but also from the orgasm that he pulled out of you. Swearing, Simon grunted, his fingers plunging into you a little faster as he took advantage of your climax.

“Good girl. Fuck, look at you. Shit, the sounds you’re making…” His voice cracked as he moaned, breathing turning shaky as you writhed in his arms, pussy pulsing around his fingers.

With a low growl, Simon pulled his fingers out of you with a wet sound as he yanked his belt off with one hand and pushed his pants down. Gathering yourself enough, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. As his cock sprang out from his underwear, you let out a shocked gasp, eyes widening as you took in his cock.

It was long and thick, with a ruddy head. His balls hung heavy, making you shift your legs wider in anticipation. The action wasn’t missed on Simon, and he grinned hungrily. Spitting on his hand, he used the combination of your slick and his saliva to pump his cock as he ripped at his shirt, pulling it open so you could admire his soft belly.

The main that left your lips was whiny and pathetic as you stared between his gorgeous body and that glorious cock of his.

“Simon please… fuck please don’t tease me.”

“Believe me, doll. Couldn’t tease you right now even if I wanted to. Need to feel your pretty pussy wrapped around me now.”

Shuffling forward onto the bed, he settled between your legs, tapping the flushed head of his cock on your sensitive clit, making you jerk.

“You sure you want it, sweetheart? Last chance to back out before I’m filling your tight little cunt.” With your chest heaving, you looked up at him through your lashes.

“Fuck me, Simon Riley. And don’t you dare pull out.”

The look on his face turned feral as he hauled you closer, lining his cock up with your wet entrance before pressing in. Your mouth parted wide, but no sound came out as the burning stretch of his cock overtook your senses. Simon let out choked off grunts, fingers clutching into the sheets as he slowly pressed into you.

Shallowly thrusting, he sunk deeper and his hand moved to cup the top of your head, rubbing affectionately before he finally managed to sink in all the way with a low groan.

“I know it’s big, I know. Doing so well for me, takin’ it so nicely.” Resting his forehead against yours, Simon inhaled deeply before opening his eyes, staring down at your face. His expression softened as he reached down to wipe a stray tear with his thumb, caressing your cheekbone in the process

“Simon!” You mewled, rocking your hips as your walls clenched, the initial stretch of his cock slowly fading and the need for more slowly rose in you. However, before you could get a rhythm going, a firm hand pressed onto your hip, halting all movement and you blinked your eyes open.

Above you, Simon’s eyes were squeezed shut with his brows pinched together. His breath was coming out in short pants as sweat beaded on his brow. Frowning, you went to push yourself up to talk to him, but the movement made him release a choked off moan and both of his hands clamped down on your hips, effectively pinning you to him.

“Don’t— fuck— don’t fucking move.” His voice was rough, on edge as his fingertips dug into the soft flesh surrounding your hips. “Jesus fuck, you’re gripping me tight. Don’t— don’t think I’m gonna last.”

Reaching out, you gripped his strong bicep and squeezed lightly.

“It’s okay. Just fuck me Simon please!”

He didn’t need any further prompting. Wrapping your legs around his waist, Simon began to shift his hips forward, dragging his cock in and out of you slowly.

“I know, princess, I know.” His voice was hoarse as he ground himself deep into you, the rough hairs on the base of his cock brushing pleasurably against your clit as he circled his hips.

“My pretty girl,” His chest rumbled as he spoke, almost whispering the words to you, “Takin’ my cock so well. Feels so good, lovie. So tight around me.”

Moaning your assent for him to continue and dragging your nails down his chest, nails that he’d paid for, he finally snapped. Lifting your hips, he angled you how he wanted, throwing one of your legs over his shoulders as he began to fuck into you. It felt like the wind was being punched out of your body with every thrust, but you couldn’t stop yourself crying out with every stretch of his cock.

“Simon… god fuck! Please, need it.”

“Fuck, baby I know. I know you do. Feel so fucking good. So fucking tight and wet around me.” Groaning, he pushed forward, placing a hand next to your head as he folded your body and thrust into you hard. You wrapped your hand around his wrist, using it to anchor yourself as you moved your hips to meet every single one of his thrusts, moaning like you were being paid for it.

“Pretty girl… so pretty on my cock… feels like fucking heaven.” He grunted, panting as he kept his eyes fixed to your face, watching every subtle shift of pleasure that etched itself onto your expression.

“Need to fill you. Make you mine.” His voice was becoming ragged and airy, signalling how close he was to his release.

“I am yours, Simon. Only yours.” Whispering into his ear, you clenched your walls around his cock, making the pace of his thrusts stutter as you felt your final orgasm of the evening get pulled from your lax body, making you gasp breathlessly.

“Oh shit.” Simon moaned, voice cracking as your walls fluttered around him. He grunted, hand gripping onto your hip as he slammed his cock deep into you once, twice before you felt his cock kick inside of you, and he came, his warmth filling you. Lowering his head, he rested it into the crook of your neck as his warm breath fanned over your skin.

It took several minutes before either of you were coherent again. Simon was first, slowly pulling out of you, rolling you over so he could nestle behind you, holding you against his body.

“My good girl. My sweet little cherry.” Soft kisses trailed down the back of your neck as he hummed softly, contentedly, his heart beating steadily against you. This was perfect, you thought, and you couldn’t be happier.

Happy Birthday to you xx

#crash writes #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #ghost x reader #ghost smut #call of duty smut #ghost cod

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altruisticalastor · 1 month

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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

☒ Summary: Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. No matter how hard he tried.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader she/her pronouns used, hurt with comfort! call back to some scenes from part three, crying, hugs, kisses, slight toxic themes, lovesick!alastor, happy ending, different pov's and scene jumps are separated by the boarders to make it easier to follow!

☒ Word Count: 2,672

You stumbled back to your room with an uneasy feeling pooling in your gut. Alastor wasn't a man who portrayed such extreme emotions the way he just did right before your very eyes. The sight of his smile melting off his face felt immoral.

Your mind lamented with turmoil.

Everything Alastor said to you was outlandish, far-fetched. Yet he spoke with such conviction, such desperation.

This man was nothing more than a stranger to you, yet some of the things he recounted filled in those blanks you harbored through life and death.

You had been drawn to Alastor's voice since day one. Something about him did feel... nostalgic.

And when you danced, it was effortless.

But could that just be chalked up to a coincidence?

You shook your head to rid yourself of those pestering contemplations. There was no point in dwelling on it now. At the end of the day, Alastor was a ruthless overlord. He wasn't capable of love.

Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love.

No matter how hard he tried.

And after the show he put on only moments ago... you felt more terrified of him than ever before.

There is nothing more merciless than a man crazy in love.

Alastor stayed up all night mulling over all that transpired. He thought and thought and thought until his mind went numb.

What could he do to make you remember him?

It's not like he could leap back to earth circa 1933 with you and retrace your steps. That world he knew was long gone.

Love is patient but waits for no one.

Alastor lifted himself off the carpet on shaky legs. He haphazardly smoothed out his coat and tidied his bowtie. His shadows enveloped him within a moment, ferrying him to the bar located in the foyer.

Husk jumped when he heard the radio warble in Alastor's voice. Demanding a tall glass of rye. The fluffy fellow knew better than to involve himself in Alastor's business. Husk poured his boss a fine glass of whiskey before turning his back. Continuing to scrub the pile-up of glasses.

"Husker. Let's say you wanted somebody to remember something that was once near and dear to their heart. What do you presume would be the best possible antidote to bringing that fond memory back to life?"

Husk turned to face Alastor hesitantly. Taking note of the empty glass sitting in front of The Radio Demon. "Well, shit, I don't really know about that," Husk paused, refilling his Boss' glass. "I mean if I were the one who forgot, I guess a solid reminder of that missing somethin' would get the gears turnin'."

Alastor's gaze was pointed, crimson eyes swirling with a sadness Husk had never seen from the feared demon. Husk cleared his throat before adding, "Like a photo or... an heirloom? Get what I mean?"

Husk watched as Alastor's shoulders rose from their slumped position. His cynical grin morphed into something sharper, and his eyes now had that familiar gleam of assuredness. "Husker, my good man! You're not as witless as I thought. Thanks for the perspicuity and rye!" And just like that, The Radio Demon was gone. Whisked away by those ghastly shadows of his.

Husk wasn't sure what he just unlocked for that evil man, but he hoped that whatever it was, it didn't involve him.

Husker's words replayed in Alastor's mind.

"A photo or... an heirloom?"

Husker, you mindless genius.

Alastor knew now what the key to unlocking your memories would be.

And it was in the shape of a heart, threaded on a silver chain with a photo of him and yourself nestled inside.

The locket he gifted you for your one-month anniversary. The treasure that was wrongfully swiped by that bitch, Elaine.

It was the catalyst for your first murder. The reason you probably sunk to hell, to begin with.

Alastor had no doubt that Elaine burned in hell along with the rest of them. She was a wretched wrongdoer. Now all he needed to do was locate her.

Alastor had his fair share of connections in hell. One simple lift of his cane and the miserable sinners were coughing up information. A timid soul mumbled about hearing of an Elaine that fit Alastor's description. Fearfully pointing The Radio Demon in the right direction.

Alastor chuckled to himself when he realized Elaine was shacked up at Valentino's studio— of all places. He recalls you telling him how Elaine boasted about one day becoming a picture star.

Guess that little dream of hers came true in the most unconventional fashion.

Alastor grimaced as the smell of sex and booze wafted past him the moment he stepped foot in the studio. Most of the bystanders turned to get a good look at The Radio Demon. Their pitiful faces were riddled with fear and awe. Probably wondering what an overlord like him was doing in a place like this.

Alastor scanned the room begrundgly. Scrunching his nose in displeasure from the lewd displays surrounding him. Suddenly, a blonde broad caught his attention. She was sitting across the room, smoking a cigarette in her delicates. Presumably waiting til her shoot began.

Her features were pouty and more pig than woman, but he was most certain that she was Elaine.

Alastor approached her without hesitation, slamming his cane harshly against the dirtied floor to grab her attention. "Elaine! Oh, how unpleasant it is to see you again!" Alastor's voice was laced with faux excitement. He crossed an arm behind his back, puffing out his chest with pride. The surly woman glared at him while taking a drag of her cig. "Who the fuck are you?"

Alastor placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "How could you forget the face of the man who corroborated your murder? I know you weren't always the brightest bulb in the box, but I mean, come on now, Elaine..." Alastor clicked his tongue in disapproval, relishing in the fear cascading over her face.

"Look, I don't want no trouble, mister." Elaine flicked her cigarette to the side, not caring where it landed, before putting her hands in front of her chest. Her own way of waving the white flag. "Well, that's great news! Because nor do I! However, I do want my darling's locket back."

Alastor's voice became low at the end of his sentence as his irises morphed into radio dials. Elaine leaned back in her chair, trembling like a leaf, as she brought her shaky hands up to her neck. She looped her fingers around the chain adorning her throat, untucking the locket from her delicates. Alastor's eyes widened at the sight of his beloved's heirloom in the hands of this wretch.

"Look, I didn't mean anything by it when I swiped it from your little princess. I was just jealous, alright? Now, just— take it and go!" She tugged at the chain, breaking the locket off her neck before shoving it in front of herself. Dangling it right before Alastor's very eyes.

Alastor studied the piece of precious metal before flickering his gaze back to the cowering woman. "Tell me this, Elaine. Why did you keep the locket all this time, going so far as to bring it to hell with you after death?" Elaine looked taken aback by the inquiry. She scoffed, face turning red.

"I wanted her life, okay? She had everything I wanted. The beauty, the brains, the beau. I knew if I had this locket and had it on me always, your little princess wouldn't have been able to find it if she went snooping through my things. If I couldn't have her life— then I had to have something of hers. Something that I knew would devastate her if she lost it." Alastor let out a wicked chuckle from Elaine's confession. He swiped the locket out of her grubby paws.

"Elaine, you... could never be her. And you are quite lucky that I have better things to do today than waste another second on you. If that wasn't the case, I would have taken great pleasure in killing you myself this time." Alastor turned on his heel, shooting her a hostile glare from over his shoulder before taking his leave.

"Bye-bye now, Elaine! Glad to see your aspirations of becoming a picture star finally came to fruition for you. Ha HA!"

The atmosphere in the room shifted the second Alastor stepped past the Hotel threshold. You were at the bar with Angel, having a well-needed drink, when a commotion at the front doors stole your attention. You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how quickly you turned your head in his direction. Already dizzy enough from the alcohol coursing through your bloodstream.

Alastor lit up when your eyes met his. He rushed over to the bar, wasting no time placing his hands on the stool you were perched on. He spun your chair, forcing you to face him, smiling with more excitement than you'd ever seen from him. "Alastor- what the fuck are you doing?"

You peered up at him, eyebrows knit in annoyance from how he rudely pulled you away from the drink you were nursing. Alastor fell to his knees and leaned forward, face only centimeters from yours. "On our one-month anniversary, I gave you a locket..." Alastor's voice was laced with merriment, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Not this again- Alastor, please! Give it up." You pleaded, not noticing how Angel and Husk began to back away from the scene. Not wanting any involvement in this lover's quarrel.

"But your bitch of a friend Elaine stole it from you, and you never ended up getting it back from her." You watched Alastor stuff a hand into his pocket, pulling out a shiny heart-shaped necklace. "So, I took matters into my own hands and got it back for you."

Alastor's free hand reached for yours. He flipped your palm to face the ceiling before placing the locket in your hand. You examined the piece of jewelry carefully, lifting it closer to your face to get a better view. "Open it." Alastor sounded positively impatient with excitement.

You gave him a weary look before thumbing over the clasp that kept the two metal hearts conjoined. You opened it slowly, and your breath hitched from what the tiny heirloom revealed.

It was a photo of a man and a woman. They appeared to be dancing in the photo. Limbs intertwined, both smiling from ear to ear.

You weren't sure why, but the photo made your heart stutter. And the longer you stared into this moment forever captured in time, the blurrier it appeared.

The feeling of Alastor's thumbs swiping along your cheeks broke you from your daze on the aged sentimental photo. He cooed at you, with much gentleness pooling in his crimson orbs.

Oh... you were crying?

Alastor slowly took the locket from your grasp. You watched him expectantly as his hands reached beyond your shoulders, delicately wrapping the chain around your neck. Alastor skillfully clasped the necklace shut, restoring it to its rightful place against your sternum.

The moment Alastor secured the clasp, you felt a surge of euphoria. A vermillion aura surrounded you, and your heart began to pound fiercely against your ribcage, echoing in your ears. That hole you had in your center for all these years began to flood.

You were motionless as your eyelids fluttered shut. In your mind, your life began to play out before you; like one of those old-timey picture shows.

Moments from when you were alive and well flickered in your subconscious. All the pleasant memories and promises for the future were with him; With Alastor.

In a wink, it all came back to you. Every touch, every laugh, every dance- every kiss. A groove in your heart that was wholly irreplaceable; you finally felt it again.

The tears continued to trickle past your lashline as the sequence of core memories coursed through your head. Distantly, you could hear that familiar radio static hum.

Your eyes flickered wildly back and forth behind your closed lids as your personalized picture show slowly came to an end. As you flitted yourself back into reality, the radio static warble grew louder. Overpowering the sound of your heartbeat; that thumped in your ears. Unhurriedly, your eyelids fluttered open.

Your world was smiling at you, and you smiled right back.

"Hi..." You muttered weakly, laughing through the quiet sobs. Alastor continued to thumb away your tears. Crimson orbs softened as they met yours.

"Hello, my darling." His voice sounded better than it did moments before he bestowed the locked upon you. But maybe that's because you finally knew why his voice reminded you of home.

It was because Alastor was your home.

"You waited for me all this time? Even after I was so cruel to you- why?" You brought your hands up, cupping his cheeks with care. The feeling of his cold skin underneath your fingertips was electrifying. Your body and mind had been deprived of him for far too long; each touch pleasantly overwhelmed your senses.

"Because, my dear, you are everything to me. I would have waited a century more for you if need be. Your cruel behavior only ignited my desire to reclaim your memories further. Nothing you do could ever make me stop loving you."

A lump formed in your throat from his admission. He spoke with such devotion. Alastor gazed at you; as if you hung the stars in the midnight sky. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, sliding yourself off the bar stool. Opting to find comfort beneath Alastor's embrace.

He wasted no time pulling you into his chest, cradling you in his arms as your knees collided with the floor. Alastor nestled his nose into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his smile against your skin. "Oh, how good it is to be home." He mumbled against the base of your throat.

You pulled back to admire his countenance, arms still weaved around his shoulders. Alastor's eyes flickered from yours to your lips. You took the hint, bearing the initiative in closing the gap. You felt heat surge through your chest when your lips touched his. Alastor's mouth moved in tandem with yours. The kiss was tender and needy; as if it was the first and last embrace you ever shared.

Alastor's hands explored lower. Large palms smoothing down the sides of your arms, then your waist. Only pausing in his exploration when his hands met your hips. Alastor squeezed them firmly, pulling your body flush against his as he deepened the kiss. Your body felt light and airy, and it wasn't from the alcohol you indulged in tonight.

The kiss felt like it lasted for an eternity. You only pulled away from your lover when your lungs began to scream for air. "I'll never let you out of my grasp ever again. I plan to keep you close for the rest of eternity. Just as I planned all along, my darling." Your heart lodged itself in your throat from his words. You nodded fervently in agreement as a chuckle escaped you.

"I'll hold you to it, my love." Alastor's grin softened the longer he gazed into your eyes. Slowly, he rose to his feet, lifting you to yours by the grasp he had on your hips. You let out a gasp as Alastor hooked his arms under your thighs, lifting you off the ground. He held you bridal-style, making quick strides through the foyer and up the stairs.

"Al! What are you doing?" You giggled, holding onto his shoulders tightly as he skipped two steps at a time, all thanks to his long legs. You admired his visage from this angle, enjoying the cheerful glint that swirled in his eyes. "Taking us somewhere more private, darling. We have a lot of lost time to make up for!"

yall want smut for the next part or..............

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts @villxinmiixx @persephoneblck @maxlynn17 @littledolly2345 @karolinda007-blog @falling-endlessly @greekyoghurtwithberries @bladeismine @aloraaaxcrystalzx @doctorswife221b @scaramoochiie @fairyv-ice @chirikoheina @veroneverleft @tired-of-life-86 @saccharine-nectarine @c-thegingergirl @tsunaki @geminixbunny @softangxlicss @alleystore @sirens-and-moonflowers @fairyv-ice @honey132 @alastorsaries @zenix108 @michi-keinz @fokrilove @yourdoorisunlocked @willowshadenox @izakyun @fangirlbitch02 @kyana-chan @aquariaries @sincerely-lorely @maxlynn17 @ivebeenthearchersstuff @kurinhimenezu @memospacexx @night-shadowblood-writes2 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @uhhhimbored @chaotic-smol @shoyosdoll @alitaar @resident-cryptid @nijiru @sunshinesetsstuff @toby33b @th3casscad3

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rogueddie · 7 months

Text

A gay bar is the last place Steve ever thought he'd be, yet here he sits.

He keeps looking over to Robin- not too much, just enough to keep an eye on her. Make sure she's still having fun. Although, he's sure he doesn't need to be worrying.

The girl who'd caught Robins eye is small, feminine. She looks like a sweetheart and she keeps getting Robin flustered. They're cute together, clearly into eachother, and Steve couldn't be happier.

Even sat alone, feeling completely out of place and a little uncomfortable, seeing Robin able to flirt with someone so openly is… he just feels relieved.

He should have thought to bring her here sooner.

"Hey there." The man smiles when Steve flinches. It's a soft smile, kind. "You wanna dance?"

"Oh, uh, I don't- I mean, uh-"

"Woah, don't panic. It's just a dance, right? You look uncomfortable is all and seeing you sat alone with your big fucking puppy dog eyes is just sad." He gently nudges Steves chin up when he tries to look down, feeling awkward. His finger lingers a little, brushing along his jaw. "You don't wanna have a fun night out? I won't be offended if you say no."

And, ok, Steve's a little tipsy. He's sure he'd never agree if he were sober- it wouldn't have felt fair. The guy is clearly attracted to him, not even trying to hide the way he's eyeing him.

But Steve's buzz is more annoying than pleasant and dancing does sound fun. So he agrees, accepts the hand offered and lets the guy pull him into the crowd.

The guy keeps his distance. Anytime the crowd jolts Steve toward him, he steps back the same amount, keeping a solid foot between them. But he's grinning, yelling jokes over the music, unabashedly dancing like an idiot.

It's great, it's fun. Steve can't stop grinning, stomach starting to ache with how much he's been laughing.

Eventually, a slower song comes on, stronger sexual undertones. The guy (Eddie, he'd leant in to tell Steve when asked, explaining that he knew Steve because they used to be in the same year as in Hawkins) shrugs, pulling an exaggerated face that screams 'what-can-you-do'. He's turning away.

But Steve grabs his wrist, Eddie looking back with raised eyebrows.

"This alright then, pretty boy?" He asks after stepping in close. His hands rest low on his hips.

Steve nods, flushing. He automatically puts his hands on his shoulders, letting Eddie lead him through a weirdly intimate sort of slow dance. And Steve is suprised to find himself… into it? He's not sure.

He feels less tipsy, so he can't blame the easy blushes or the way his stomach flips on the alcohol. There's no excuse for how he's started looking at Eddie either, paying a little too much attention to the way he moves, how his hands feel when they slowly start to wonder.

He gently brushes Eddies hair out the way without thinking, tucking it behind his ear so he can see the tattoo on his neck. Eddie tilts his head slightly, baring his neck a little more. When he glances up, Eddie is watching him, curiously.

"Hate to sound pressumptious," he drawls, taking a small step forward so their chests are pressed together, "but it feels like you're making moves on me, big boy."

"What if I am? What happens then?"

"Maybe I'd ask if you're sober enough to drive or if we need to call a cab." He leans back a little when Steve moves to kiss him. He hums, smirking. "Or maybe I'd ask for your number. I'm a classy lady, Harrington; what if I don't put out on the first date?"

"I've never said no to a challange."

Eddie barks out a laugh, loud enough to startle some of the people swaying beside them. "As if."

"What? You're like... pretty."

"Pretty," he repeats, rolling his eyes. "People know I'm a fag, Steve. Even being seen with me like we're 'just friends' would fucking ruin you."

"Your point?"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wanna put money on that?"

Eddie eyes him for a second, his derision melting into curiosity. "You want to make a bet on whether you'll date me or not?"

"Why not? One of us wins money in a bet, we both score a date, and-"

"I thought you were straight."

"Yeah, me too. But I don't think straight guys think about you like I am, right now."

Eddie steps back, considering. It's a long, tense, moment before he finally sticks his hand out. Steve quickly shakes his hand, grinning.

"You've got yourself a deal."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #alittlelaughtime

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 8 months

Text

imagine bucky being drunk

warning: kinda spicy at the end

"He's doing it again."

Sam nudged you in the ribs, tearing your eyes away from Carol; who had been giving you the latest details on her life. The two of you frowned but then Carol smirked, nodding to your boyfriend across the small dive bar she had taken everyone to. Bucky was standing next to Steve and he was pretend punching him in the face. Steve was laughing whilst blocking his friend's air punches.

"I love drunk Barnes," Carol sighed contently and you agreed.

"He's so cute when he's drunk."

"Sure, real cute when the tab is over a grand because it takes a whole brewery to get him tipsy."

Ignoring Sam, you promised Carol you'd return to hear the rest of her story and she smirked, holding up her beer. "We have all night."

Stepping away from the table, you smiled at the bickering going on behind you as to who was going to pay for the tab. Leaving Wilson and Danvers to settle that argument, you walked over to the oldest men in the bar. Bucky's eyes moved to you and he grinned like a little puppy, pushing Steve aside to stumble over to you.

"God, you're so cute," he hollered, pretending to grab a piece of you to eat. He consumed air you and you laughed, grabbing his hand before he could take another bite.

Bucky quickly engulfed you into a hug, squeezing so tight you had to holler for him to release you. "I love a good strangling, but let's keep that for the bedroom, babe."

Steve groaned. "Come on, man."

You smirked, allowing Bucky to pull your back against his chest. He wrapped both arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulders. "Sounds like Stevie boy needs a little fun."

"That's what it sounds like," you echoed Bucky's sentiments and Steve rolled his eyes when you suggested Carol up as a potential booty call. "What? She's fucking hot. Smart. Funny."

"Captain America, Captain Marvel..." Bucky slurred out a burp and the two of you busted into laughter - giggling like children. Steve instantly turned red and that just made the laughter louder until Carol called out to see what was so funny.

"Don't say a word," Steve grumbled under his breath, pulling at his shirt. "...stay here."

Bucky and you watched as Steve made his way to the booth, sliding next to Carol, who smiled at him. Sam looked over to you and Bucky held a hazy finger to his lips - the veteran understood and quickly excused himself from the booth. He didn't bother walking over to Bucky and you, because everyone knew the two of you were ridiculous together, sober or drunk. Most people couldn't stand being in a room with the two of you for more than a few minutes; hands all over each other or worse, jokes and laughter that seemed endless.

Turning to face your boyfriend, you squished his cheeks and he practically beamed. He was totally drunk and you were totally in love. He kissed you on the lips, at first gently but then his grip tightened at your waist and you buckled against his body.

"....so cute I could eat."

"What's stopping you? The bathroom is unisex..."

Bucky practically welp, gathering you up in his arms in a haste. Having a former super solider as a boyfriend had its perks - his stamina was endless, his physique would make a grown man cry, but his strength? That man could lift hundreds of pounds, so no matter your weight - this motherfucker made you feel light as a feather. And boy, you could get him stiff as a board.

"I just know you're thinking nasty shit," he groaned, moving you towards the bathroom.

"I am but pure of heart, James."

Bucky smiled contently, kicking the bathroom open. It was as good as a bar restroom could get. He placed you gently on the sink and made sure the door was locked. Two strides, that's all it took for him to get on his knees and pulling your panties down from under your skirt. His eyes rolled back for a moment as he took in the sight, but then he glanced up at you with a devilish smile as he firmly spread your legs.

"I love you," he whispered right before diving in-between your thighs.

Rendered speechless, all you could do was grip his hair and lean back into the sink mirror; the lowlights flickering as Bucky reminded you how much you loved drunk him. When all his inhibitions disappeared and he got to enjoy the little things in life - which included going to bars with your closest friends, running the highest of tabs, trying to hook up friends, and most importantly, going down on your girlfriend in a dingy bathroom.

#bucky barnes going down on his girl #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #marvel #steve rogers x carol danvers

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lolita-lollipop · 4 months

Text

Iron

YANDERE BARBARIAN BAKUGO X READER

The king of the most violent and powerful tribe in the eastern world is captured during battle by a small farmers village. What does a violent man like katsuki bakugo do upon meeting a kind servant girl like you?

WARNINGS: reader gets hurt by villagers (bakugo saves her)

He couldn't remember how long he had been here, he just knew it was cold, dark, unsanitary, and painful. He remembered the battle that put him here, getting shot with a poison-laced arrow, feinting on the field. Heh. imagine it, the great barbarian Bakugo, the children's slayer, the village burner, the soldier slaughterer falling because of one puny arrow from one puny kingdom. When he first had woken up he could feel the slick of his blood under him mixed with the dirt and grime of the cell, he had giant iron cuffs wrapping his wrists and legs, binding him to the floor. He couldn't blame these people, truly, they knew that once he woke up if he were to get out they were all as good as slaughtered.

It was a small stone dungeon, with only a couple of stalls, he occupying one of them. There was a small barred window, along with a wall of iron bars serving as protection from him and the rest of the world. Iron, he hated the stuff, and banned it from his country, it burned him, burned his people. There was a thick, damp smell of blood and rust, a musty smell he could easily recognize as death. He would carve every person in this building up, then burn every building in the village, and he would let the fire spread to their fields and watch as their lives work shrivels up into ash. But for now, He would wait for the perfect time to strike, all he could do was wait really, watch the guard rotation, see which ones were talkative, and which ones were cruel.

Many of the guards would beat him, carve his skin, and watch him bleed, they know of all the gruesome things he has done to so very many people, and supposedly the bastards feel some kind of idiotic vengeance or justice for those people. They would pay in the long run, who exactly do they think they are? he is a king, royalty, the highest of the highest, the strongest too. If he doesn't kill them his people will, they'll see. All the king could do was watch, wait, and plot the splattering of this village.

That was, until you came along.

Little you, in your flowy little skirt that was all torn up, with no shoes and a dirt-covered face. Little you with your oh-so-innocent smile, and your callused hands. Little you with your malnourished body, frail and sickly. Little you, who had no idea who he was. Little you who snuck in when no guard was on duty, a small bowl of soup in your hands, and a cup of water.

“I-im sorry that this is all I have, I know you haven't eaten in a long time I just- I’ll have more tomorrow” you whispered, and he swore he fell in love right then and there, you were too frail, too weak to be giving out food that you surely needed. Yet here you were, shakily handing him the bowl and the cup. He stared at you for a solid second, not even his own mother was this selfless, and you don't even know him. Who were you? You did not seem like aristocracy, too kind, maybe a farmer? Maybe a maid, a servant even.

He hadn't realized how hungry he was, not until the entire bowl and cup were gone, and he was left to stare at you. You were ethereal, dirt-covered and all, your eyes, your hair, your hands, everything, absolutely stunning. You had a look in your eyes. Something hungry and fearful told him that you were not happy, not safe and sound, not as you should be.

“I don't have anything to treat your wound, but- I'm sorry. Nobody should be treated this way, not even prisoners. I'll be back tomorrow, please don't tell the guards that I've done this. They will kill me.” you whispered, cautiously reaching to grab the glassware from his grip, waiting to see if he would snap at you. He didn't, only stared, grunting in response to your plea. You stared back with those sympathetic globes of yours, as if you could see the anger in his soul. Before turning on your heel, and quietly sneaking out of the dungeon room, you gave him one last glance before disappearing.

He was left in the quiet, in the cold, falling head over heels in love with you, a mere human. A peasant at that. Strange. You were too sweet, too kind, you clearly needed the food, clearly were starving and malnourished, yet you still stood here and offered your only food to him, a prisoner of war, you were so sweet. So kind. His people were not like you, they were not soft or sweet, he loved them for it, but you, oh you. You were soft and supple and sweet andso sickeningly kind. He would protect you, he has too.

The next couple of nights went similarly, you sneaking in during the dead hours following midnight with varying foods, sometimes a stale loaf of bread with milk, sometimes some leafy soup and water. He was grateful every time, thankful that he wasn't starving, still burning with absolute rage towards the mere peasants who believed that they could contain him. But you, in the very few days that he had known you, had wormed your way into his heart with your soft hands and pretty smile.

He can just imagine you adorned in stolen jewels and furs, dressed in the finest silk, or better, the clothes of his people. something soft like you, something pretty and supple and shiny and light. Something that reflects you, he would take you out of those rags, clean you up, teach you what luxury truly is. and you wouldnt have to lift a finger. he dreamed about your future everyday that you would visit, asking your favorite color or season or jewel.

That was, until you stopped showing up. No more quiet hours gazing at each other, no more shared food and drink, no more listening to you quietly talk about your life, no more sympathetic glances, no more questions about him from you, no more answers from him. It was like you had disappeared entirely, and back to his old routine of watching and observing the guards had begun once more. He had to admit it kind of hurt, having the only good thing here disappear entirely, he resented this place more, resented you.

He hated you, how could you leave him? You, a servant girl abandoning a king. Funny, hilarious, he sat in a pool of blood and hatred thinking about you, about this town, about the people who put him here, who chained him to the floor and watched him bleed out, this city will burn. And burn and burn and burn and burn and burn, his people would tear it apart until it was nothing but ash and blood-

What tore him out of his internal monologue was a pained scream, but not just anybody, he didn't know anybody in the town, it was yours. With that whispery rasp that you had from overexertion, and that neverending fear that dripped from your tone. He stood up to stare through the small window, only to see you on the ground, surrounded by many people, all bigger and stronger than you, yelling and screaming.

“It's her, the traitor!”

“She has been feeding the enemy, treason, treason I say!”

“She should be beheaded, the traitor.”

You let another scream ring out through the town center as one of the men brought their boot down on your bare foot, he could hear the crunch followed by another scream. The first kick sparked more from other men as they brought their feet down on frail little ou, you slowly reverted into a fetal position, lying in the dirt as they beat you relentlessly. He saw red, crimson blinding him and overflowing all of his senses. How could they? You did nothing, you knew nothing. You were just a sweet, innocent little human who knew no better, who were they to punish you, to beat you so cruelly? You were thin and frail and he could hear each one of your bones cracking and breaking into pieces.

He saw bright ruby red, anger wasn’t the word, absolute rage is a better way to put it.

Red red red red red red red red red

He didn't even realize he had broken from his chains till his legs were moving,

Red

He didn’t even feel the burn of the iron till the bars holding him were bent out of shape and twisted

Red

He didn’t realize they were all dead till his hands were stained with that bright crimson color he loved so much- you guessed it, red

He killed them all, so painfully, knuckles crunching skulls and tearing off limbs, pulling people apart faster than any wolf or bear could even try to. The thrill of freedom mixed with rage and pure anger let him revert to the ways of his homeland, back to the thrilling violence and electrifying feeling of tearing another apart. He enjoyed it, enjoyed tearing them limb from limb and watching them bleed as they had done to him. He cackled as they screamed in terror, relishing in their fear.

You watched deliriously, you had lost too much blood in too short of a time, and you were positive that you had many many broken bones, pain overcame you as you watched the bloodshed in front of you, your vision was blurry and shaking but you could tell that somebody was strong, and enjoying violence. Fear budded in the back of your brain, he was enjoying this, enjoying their pain, he would hurt you just the same, kill you, and relish in it.

You hadn’t known who he was, you swore to the village leaders, swore that you just felt bad for the poor starving man in the dungeons who seemed to gentle and sweet, they hadn’t cared. You were to be burned or drowned or noosed they said. But a death like this, at the hand of a man you had been fooled to be sweet? That was worse. Oh god, oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god you were going to die

Your breath became shallow, both because of what was surely a punctured lung, but also because of the slowly approaching footsteps crunching on the dirt. A small whimper escaped you as the figure towered over you, and your hands came up to shield your face from the blow that was surely to come.

But Instead of a painful ending blow, arms wrapped under you and hoisted you up, you never realized how tall this man was. Naturally, you curled into his warmth and tried not to think about how sticky his hands were with blood. your breath hitched as he squeezed you closer with calloused rough hands. Tears washed down your face, you were quivering, shaking in fear.

“P-please-“ you quivered out. Hand moving up to push him away, your statement had many meanings, to beg for your life, to beg him to put you down, to beg him to leave you and your village alone, to beg him to forgive you. He stared down at you with crimson eyes, a sudden softness overcoming them, more than he thought he could have.

“Don’t you worry baby,

I’ll take good care of ya”

———————————————————————

Cute

Anyway enjoy, I noticed a lack of barbarian bakugo content on here so I figured I would add some fuel to the fire.

Love you all, make sure to have a great day!

#soft yandere #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere my hero academia #fem reader #soft yandere bakugo #yandere bakugo #romantic yandere #yandere romantic #platonic yandere #yandere barbarian bakugo #yandere barbarian #platonic yandere katsuki #yandere katsuki bakugo #yandere dragon king #yandere dragon king bakugo #dragon king bakugou #barbarian bakugo x reader #platonic obsession

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hier--soir · 9 months

Text

be good

no outbreak joel miller x f!reader

pairing: sub!joel miller x dom!f!reader summary: joel was never really the submissive type. until he met you, and realised he'd do whatever you asked of him. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] no outbreak au, established relationship, strangers at a bar role play, dom!reader, sub!joel, dirty talk, joel miller is desperate, face sitting cunnilingus, f!masturbation, save a horse ride a cowboy, size kink, praise kink, light choking, mean!reader, pet names used for joel [honey, baby, sugar], orgasm denial, reader talks joel through it, 90% porn 10% plot lmao. word count: 7.6k masterlist a/n: folks i've been gagging for something with joel just being so good for his partner and [begrudgingly] doing whatever she tells him too... and then i listened to 'sex with me' by rihanna and got even more inspired so here we go. [i swear i will post something soon with an actual plot jfc]

He’d been watching you all night.

Pip’s Bar was busy. Though it wasn’t your usual haunt, it was one of the more popular spots in Austin, and on a Saturday night it was absolutely teeming with people. Strangers lined the bar, drinking and talking and trying fruitlessly to chase down two overworked bar tenders. A mass of bodies gyrated and swayed in the middle of the room, moving to the fast rhythm of a bassline that shook the rickety old floorboards. You were lost in the midst of it, dancing alone and yet connected to the foreign bodies that crowded you from every angle, suffocating you until you were slick with sweat and sticky from spilt alcohol. Swallowed whole by the writhing, heaving pack of dancers, your every breath and movement synced with theirs.

And he’d been watching you, all night.

He’d arrived at Pip’s not long after you. And since then, he had hardly moved from the same spot across the room. He leant against the wall, one hand gripping a glass and the other propped on his hip. He looked bored, uninterested in everything happening around him, and yet every time you glanced his way those eyes were already burning a hole into your skin. The truth was that he’d never had much patience for the whole thing, but you trusted he enjoyed it just as much as you did. Knew he’d do whatever you asked him to, even if it included going to a bar and pretending you were strangers. Even when it meant him watching you dance all night, rubbing yourself against strangers, and pretending you didn’t know him until one of you finally broke.

Your arms stretched high above your head, hips swaying from side to side as you muttered the lyrics of the song underneath your breath. Once again, you glanced back in his direction while you danced. You allowed your torso to sway with the movements of your hips, hands dropping to rest lacklustre by your sides. You offered him a quick smile, but his face hardly moved, body rigid. He lifted the glass to his mouth, playing coy, and you chuckled under your breath, closing your eyes and revelling in the heavy bass that vibrated through your body. When you opened them again he was gone, the wall where he’d once stood now devoid of his presence. You didn’t give it much thought, until suddenly a pair of hands were on your waist, pulling you back against a solid body. A gasp of soft surprise exhaled from your mouth, and you felt the hands squeeze gently. When you turned around, there was already a sly smile was painted across your lips.

The dim lighting in the bar did him no justice; casting too many shadows across his strong jawline, his straight aquiline nose, hiding the perfect shade of his dark pink lips.

He stared down at you with a simmering intensity as you pressed your chest against his. The room was hot, and sweat beaded along your hairline, but it didn’t stop you from dancing slowly against him, gliding your curves against his body, maintaining eye contact all the while.

A faded denim button up covered his chest, the thin material doing nothing to disguise the toned, strong body beneath it. The fabric was slightly coarse, and it was rough against the thin mesh of your shirt. You always loved waiting to see what he would wear, how he would dress up for you. Tonight’s shirt was new, something he’d bought specifically for the occasion, and you loved it. Your nipples hardened a little, and you smirked as he snaked an arm around your waist to press his palm to the spot in between your shoulder blades, holding you against him.

“What’s your name?” you asked over the music, noting the way his eyes drifted to your mouth when you spoke. God, he was so easy.

“Joel.” Those deep, brown eyes bore into your own, drinking in the details of your face as his hips moved slowly against yours. He was always antsy to get this part over and done with, but he played along for you.

“Are you single?” you asked, revelling in the way his mouth went to respond before his brain could catch up. The beginning of the word no formed on his lips, and you almost grinned at how loyal he was, even when you wanted him to lie.

“Yes,” he said.

“You’ve been watching me all night, Joel.”

You reached up to fix his collar where part of it had been turned up. He didn’t respond immediately, mulling his thoughts over in his head, contemplating what he thought you might want to hear.

“It’s okay,” you spoke again when you sensed he was overthinking it, allowing your hand to glide down his shoulder and over the firm muscles of his upper arm. “I liked it.”

“And your name?” he asked, almost shouting to be heard over the music. You smirked at the deep bellow of his voice; at the way it gave the pumping music a run for its money. The thick, Texan drawl of it always managed to spark a fire in your belly.

When you told him, he repeated your name slowly, as if it were foreign to him; rolling it around in his mouth, tasting out the syllables on his tongue. The hand on your back held strong, and you could almost feel the individual tips of his fingertips leaving indents in your skin.

A gyrating body jostled into you from the side suddenly, and you stumbled forward. Joel tightened his grip on you, keeping the both of you standing up right. You flashed him a grateful smile, and your eyes dipped to stare at his mouth. The urge to kiss him was strong, but you held yourself back, knowing the payoff would be worth it if you could just hold off a little longer.

You didn’t waste much time though. “What brings you to Pip’s? Y’here to meet someone?”

A spark of desire flashed through his eyes, and his grip tightened inconceivably. Your body thrummed with excitement as you gained the upper hand so successfully, and so quickly. Joel cleared his throat, face relaxing back into a neutral expression.

“Didn’t want to come here at all,” he spoke plainly, glancing down to where your chests rubbed together. His eyes trailed over your torso, the mesh fabric of your shirt allowing him a full view of your breasts, clad in a thin lace bra. “Brother dragged me along.”

You hummed, almost grinning at the mention of Tommy, who would blush beet red if he knew what the two of you were doing at Pip’s. You opened your mouth to speak again, but he beat you to it.

“Did you?” he asked quickly. “Come here lookin’ for someone?”

You quirked an eyebrow and shook your head once. “No, I didn’t.” Bold faced lie.

His left hand rested on your hip, and he squeezed your waist once, holding your midriff solidly against his own. You could feel his heart beating, a rapid badoom badoom badoom that knocked rhythmically against your sternum. You draped an arm around the back of his neck, gripping the collar of his shirt.

“But maybe I could be persuaded,” you spoke slowly, testing the waters. “If you’re good.”

His eyes darkened a shade at your wording, and a soft exhale rushed out of his mouth, breezing against your face. His lips were a hairsbreadth away from touching yours, but he hesitated, eyes flickering back up to yours, as if asking for permission. Perfect.

You kissed him gently at first, slotting your lips against his and moving tentatively, exploring him as if it were the first time. His hold on you stiffened as he pressed back, running his tongue eagerly along the seam of your mouth. Your hand drifted from his collar to his hair and you gripped it softly, tugging on the wavy curls. Joel was taller than you, and yet he was crouching somewhat, so that your mouths would be level. Simplifying things for you; always so eager for the game to end. He struggled with it – the standing across the room, watching you, waiting for you to invite him over with a smile. But after an hour of dancing, you were willing to let him have it.

You parted your lips and allowed him to swipe his tongue greedily into your mouth. He tasted like whiskey and mint and soda water. It burnt your mouth, and inspired a dull ache in your abdomen. He gained confidence, kissing you harder, deeper, and so you sunk your teeth into his bottom lip. Not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make him pause. A warning.

You pulled away. “Have you been drinking, Joel?”

His chest rose and fell quickly. Lips swollen and red. You could feel him pressing against your stomach, already half-hard from just a little kiss. Poor baby, so desperate.

“Only had two.” His voice was stilted. “I drove here.”

“Good,” you nodded, gripping his hand and leading him out of the throng of dancing bodies.

“Good?” Joel shouted back, eyebrows raised.

“Good that your car is here,” you clarified. “Means you can drive us back to my place.”

Joel walked through your apartment like he’d never been there a day in his life, and you adored him for it.

He rested on the edge of your bed, nursing a cold beer that you’d swiped from the fridge for him. He stuck out in your bedroom, but you suppose he always had. The queen-sized bed looked like a double with him on it, his broad frame taking up most of the mattress. And the contrast between your floral wallpaper and his dark, masculine figure was so stark that you almost giggled as you watched him from across the room. His eyes felt heavy on you, following you wherever you moved, lest he miss a single thing. They raked over your figure, basking in the bare flesh you had on show, monitoring your hands as you removed your jewellery and discarded it. It caused a prickling heat to rise across your skin, and you liked it – the way he seemed so eager, so uncontained.

“What’re you doin’ all the way over there?” Joel asked. His fingers were long, wrapping around the entirety of the beer bottle, making it look miniscule in his grip.

You bent to take off your shoes. “I’m admiring you.”

His lips pursed, beer bottle pausing in the air halfway to his lips. When he spoke, his voice was deeper somehow. “Well, you should come over here.”

“Would you like that?” you straightened up, smiling sweetly.

“Yes,” he responded. His voice was measured, quiet. But you could tell he was frustrated by your relaxed demeanour. It was always the way it went. Joel was so impatient. He knew what was going to happen, knew what awaited him, and he couldn’t fucking stand the tension build up.

“Maybe if you’re good,” you winked, padding over to where he sat. You stood over him, knees brushing against knees.

“I can be good,” he spoke gruffly, depositing his beer bottle on the ground with a gentle clink.

“Is that so?” you asked softly, pulse quickening. He nodded, wiping his palms on his jeans before splaying them on the bed beside him. A slick heat had formed in your underwear, the near-ruined material sticking uncomfortably to your skin. “You’re gonna do what I want? Whatever I ask of you?”

You could see the way his jeans tightened over his crotch, cock clearly straining against the rough material at your words. He swallowed, nodding again. Slowly, so slow it was painful, you leant forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. His scent filled your nostrils and you inhaled it deeply, sighing against his mouth as everything that was Joel Miller invaded your senses. Your tongue flicked against his mouth and then you were dragging it past his lips, over his teeth, rolling it against his own tongue. A warm, heavy hand gripped the waistband of your pants and long fingers fumbled with the button, but you pulled back, tutting as you shoved his hands away from you. He looked dejected, wet lips parted as he frowned up at you.

“Take your clothes off,” you ordered softly, and he grunted, but did as you asked. “And then lay on the bed.”

Making quick work of it, he stripped out of his shirt and jeans, tossing them haphazardly into the corner of the room. Finally, he tugged his briefs down, before laying back on the mattress.

Splayed on the bed, not a single inch of Joel Miller was left to the imagination. His body sunk into the soft blankets on the bed, and his cock stood at painful attention. It gave you pause, as he stared at you, and you stared at his cock. He was big—bigger than most guys you’d slept with in the past—and he knew it too. Had always been proud of the fact. His tip was ruddy and swollen, with a small pearl of pre-come resting on his slit, taunting you. A thick, pulsing vein travelled down the side of him. You thought about how he would taste, in that moment. How heavy he would be on your tongue, how your jaw would ache, and you’d struggle to breathe as his tip glided against the back of your throat. You were salivating just thinking about it.

“You like what you see?”

You simply took your clothes off in response. Taking your time, you dragged your shirt over your head before peeling your trousers off, underwear following it and landing in a pile on the floor until you stood naked as the day you were born. Joel watched closely, dark eyes monitoring your hands as you removed layer after layer. His gaze dipped to the spot between your thighs, and you saw his cock twitch.

You straddled his thighs, resting just above his knees and taking care not to make contact with his length. As soon as you settled above him his hands rested naturally on your waist, gripping and kneading the flesh beneath his palms. You decided to allow it, just for a moment, as your gaze travelled down his chest and the dark smattering of hair there, past his happy trail, all the way to where he wanted you the most.

His hips shifted on the mattress, cock bobbing against the soft flesh of his tummy and leaving a shiny smear where the tip brushed his skin.

“So handsome,” you traced your fingers over his stomach. “You’ve got such a pretty cock, Joel.”

“Yeah?” he grunted, eyes trained on your hands as they wandered toward his hips. The power you felt in moments like this were unmatched. With this broad, strong man laying beneath you, completely at your mercy, hanging on the precipice of your every word. Even if he struggled to admit it, even when it seemed like he was using all of his will power to let you have your fun, you both knew that you were in charge. And it was invigorating.

“Yes,” you implored, your heart warming at the way his chest seemed to puff with pride at your words.

Your fingertip traced alone his hipbone and he shivered at the featherlight touch, goosebumps breaking out across his skin. “So pretty and thick. I love it like that, you know? When it’s so big that it hurts at first. No matter how wet I am, there’s still that sting.” You dug your nails into the soft of his upper thigh to emphasise your point. He didn’t respond, eyes darkening as he watched you.

“So big that it fills me up until it’s like I can’t breathe, and I’m so cock drunk that I can’t focus on anything except you and how deep you are.” You placed your spare hand on your lower stomach, splaying your fingers. “When I can feel it here.”

Joel’s breathing had started to labour, chest rattling as heavy exhales drifted through parted lips. His hands dragged from your waist to the crease where your thigh met your hips, and his grip was bruising. You knew he loved it when you talked like that, knew it drove him crazy. And you couldn’t deny it made a fresh wave of heat roll through your stomach to think about him stretching you out just right.

“And I love this,” you continued softly, dragging your fingers from his thigh to graze the moustache that rested above his top lip. He smirked at that, tongue darting out to swipe at your fingers. Your stomach tensed at the feeling of the wet muscle touching you, pussy fluttering around nothing, devastatingly empty.

Joel whispered your name against the palm of your hand. Smiling, you traced the tip of your index over his lips before pressing down, watching it slide easily into his mouth. He closed his lips around the digit immediately, grazing his teeth over it before sucking gently.

“Oh, you’ve got such a pretty mouth,” you said. “You gonna show me what you can do with it?”

He moaned around the digit, strong hands pulling your hips forward so you were edging your way up his torso.

“Mmh,” you hummed lowly, dragging your soaked finger from his mouth. You tapped it once against his left hand and gave him a sly smile. “But none of this, okay? I don’t want to feel your hands on me, not for a second. Do you understand?”

Joel’s brow furrowed, eyes dimming as he slowly pried his fingers away from your flesh, lowering his hands to rest in the sheets.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be?” he asked softly, tongue swiping out to wet his lower lip.

You nodded, using your knees to shift further up his chest until you were hovering just above his collarbones. Joel’s eyes darted between your thighs, and a soft sigh left his lips as he gazed at the way your lips had parted ever so slightly, giving him a glimpse of your glistening core. When you paused there for a moment too long, he looked back up to your face, expression almost begging you to movepleasejustmovejustalittlebitcloser.

So you put him out of his misery; rested your knees on either side of his head before lowering your aching cunt to meet his mouth.

Joel groaned in relief as his nose buried itself in your hair, tongue darting out to swipe between your soaked folds. You gasped in delight, rutting yourself against him in encouragement. The coarse hairs of his moustache scraped against your clit and you whined at the sensation, reaching up to rest your hands atop the headboard.

Joel licked a firm stripe up your core with the flat of his tongue, and your shoulders tensed as he set to work. He wasted no time setting a hard and fast pace, letting out messy groans as his tongue rubbed firm circles around your clit. You exhaled heavily, teeth biting down on your lower lip. He dragged his tongue to your entrance and dipped it inside you, so quickly that you flinched, before he was back to rubbing your clit, swiping the tip of his tongue back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. He was so overzealous, so hungry for it; exhaling hot air against you while he lathed sloppy kisses against your pussy.

“Hey,” you rasped, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. Joel didn’t let up, simply flicking his tongue across your clit again. You jolted, tightening your grip in his hair and inching your hips away from his face. “Hey.”

His eyes flashed open, lips parting as his mouth tried to follow you when you pulled away.

“Wha—?” he couldn’t finish his sentence as you took his bottom lip between your thumb and index finger, squeezing it once.

“Slow down,” you said firmly. His cheeks flushed. “Moving that fast, a girl might start to think you’re trying to get it over with as quick as possible.”

Joel shook his head in a daze, mumbling a meagre apology against your fingers. Those big browns gazed up at you, wide and sad, reminiscent of a Labrador being told off for eating his dinner too fast. You pressed back down over his face, murmuring a gentle reminder for him to go slow.

He was soft then. Meticulous. Calculated. Every lick, every suck, every graze of teeth, was thought out and purposeful. You could feel more slick oozing out of you as his tongue massaged the flesh between your clit and your entrance.

“That’s it,” you praised breathlessly. “That’s perfect, doing—ohh—doing so well for me.”

Within minutes he had you on the edge, holding the headboard in a white-knuckle grip and grinding down against his mouth as breathy moans fell from your lips. It was reverent, the way he ate you out like it was his favourite thing to do in the world. And as liquid fire began to twist in your stomach, and your thighs burned with the intensity of holding yourself up above him, you could swear you felt him moving. Sparing a glance over your shoulder, you bit down on your lip to stifle the whimper that threatened to escape you at the sight of him.

The muscles of his long tanned legs were tense, the soft flesh of his hips flexing as he thrusted upward subconsciously, his leaking cock desperately seeking for contact but being rewarded with nothing but the humid air of your bedroom.

You thought about how easy it would be to turn around. To lean down and take him in your mouth. To slide your lips over his head; to taste his salt while his tongue glided through your folds. Just the thought had you careening over the edge, body jerking as you gasped and sighed and grinded the swollen mess of yourself down against his face. Joel moaned gratefully, dark eyes flicking open to watch you as you came. You could feel him everywhere; his facial hair scraping against your twitching inner thighs as his nose bumped against your clit and his tongue lapped at your entrance, sucking and swallowing down everything you had to offer until you were gasping and prying yourself away.

On shaking legs, you made your way back down his body. As you moved, you rubbed your pussy against his torso, smearing a shimmering trail of your slick across his skin. Joel let out a brief, wrecked moan, stomach tensing as you passed over it and then lifted yourself up. His pink tongue darted out to swipe at his lips, savouring the glistening remnants of your taste. Resting on your knees, you hovered above him, smiling breathlessly.

“Fuck.” You admired the sight, pouting your lips out teasingly. “Made such a mess on you, I’m sorry, baby.”

“Jesus.” His voice was pained. “S’perfect.”

“And it’s all for you,” you hummed, trailing a finger absentmindedly over his collarbone. “You looked so pretty like that. All messy haired and fucked out while I rode your face. So good for me, I’m tempted to let you go down on me all night.”

“I want to,” Joel exhaled heavily. A soft blush had risen across his chest, and he glowed under the shower of praise. “Think about it all the time.”

“Is that right?” you asked demurely.

“S’right,” he mumbled. “Think about the way you taste. About spreading you out and spending hours with my head between your thighs.”

The words were so hot they almost made you forget about the game you were playing.

You looked down, brain shifting gears and mouth going dry at the sight of your puffy lips hovering so beautifully close to the tip of his cock. He was so hard it looked painful. Stiff and pulsing, the vein down the side of his length visibly throbbed. Pre-come dripped down his length, pooling at the base of him.

“Oh, honey,” you cooed, and Joel looked down, groaning at the sight of you so close to where he was just aching. With a soft gasp, you noticed yourself begin to drip. “Look at that.”

Together, you watched a strand of your slick drip out of you, and land directly on the tip of his cock. Joel’s entire body jolted, and a pitiful moan escaped his mouth at the first stimulation he’d received all night. On instinct, his hands rushed forward and gripped your hips, stomach tensed as he thrusted upward into the air. You could see it in his eyes, the burning desire to grab you and pull you close, roll on top of you and just split you open. But this was your night, and you were the one calling the shots.

You tutted softly. “I said, hands off. Don’t make me tie them to the bed,” you clipped. He cursed, hands dropping immediately. “Mmh, you’ll do whatever I tell you to, won’t you?”

He whispered your name hoarsely, lips shifting below his wet moustache.

You ignored him, smiling at the way his cock twitched whenever you spoke. “So needy, so fucking desperate for me to touch you.”

“Yes,” he admit to it through gritted teeth. “God, fuckin’—please. Anything, I’ll do anything. Need to feel you, please baby, I need it.”

You hummed quietly, pondering as you gazed down at the sweaty mess of a man beneath you. “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls, huh handsome?”

His lips parted, harsh exhales rushing past chapped lips. “Only you,” he said firmly.

The corner of your mouth twitched up and you gave an approving nod, admiring the sincere gleam in his eye.

“Good boy,” you murmured. He groaned softly, eyes almost closing at the words. “But I’ve decided I don’t think I’ll use my mouth on you tonight. Or my hands, for that matter.”

Joel frowned, lips curling into a deep grimace as he twisted the sheets in his fists.

“Because,” you continued. “All I want your cock to feel, all night, is my cunt. Nothing else. Do you understand?”

His jaw slackened and then he was nodding, muttering yeahokayyesyes.

“Yes what, Joel?”

“Please,” his voice cracked.

A wide grin spread easily across your face as you shuffled down the bed, settling your knees on either side of his waist.

“You such a tease,” he groused under his breath.

“Uh-huh,” you chuckled darkly. “And we both know you love it.” He stayed silent, knowing you were right, and watched as you splayed a hand across his stomach, using his body for leverage as you—finally—pressed your folds against his cock. Joel’s stomach tightened as you glided along his length, spreading your slick from his head to his base.

“Can I…?” he trailed off, eyes darting from your face and to where the two of you were touching. You nodded once, unable to look away as he reached down to grip himself, strong fingers wrapping around his length and squeezing once while he notched his tip at your entrance. The lingering sensitivity from your previous orgasm had you shuddering at the contact, walls contracting at the thought of him finally being inside of you.

You pushed his hand away swiftly, placing it back onto the bed. A harsh gasp ripped from your throat as you sunk down on him, gravity taking away any chance for your body to adjust to him slowly. The stretch stung a little, and your mouth hung open, spilling breathy whines.

“Jesus Christ,” you heard Joel exhale, voice ragged. The muscle in his jaw moved underneath his skin, the muscles in his arms straining as he focused all of his willpower on not fucking touching you.

“Fuck,” you whimpered. “Y-you’re so deep, stretching me out so good, just how I like it.” You tightened around him and a deep groan tumbled from Joel’s mouth, lids fluttering as his eyes all but rolled back into his head. You wiped the sweat off his forehead and cupped his cheek in your palm.

“Talk to me, honey,” you ran the pad of your thumb across his cheekbone. “Tell me how it feels.”

He grunted, heady brown eyes opening to peer up at you. His hips flexed beneath you and you bit your lip to stop from crying out at the way his cock shifted inside you. Slowly, knees painful from the pressure, you lifted almost entirely off him, before sinking back down. And then you did it again, and again, setting a deliberately unhurried pace and never once taking your eyes off his face.

The room already smelt like sex, a heady mixture of sweat and come, and a warm fog settled over your mind as the moment enveloped you.

You rotated your hips in a circle and delighted in the way he slammed the palm of his hand down onto the bed, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip. His eyes were half-shut, vision drifting to the ceiling as his head sunk into the pillow behind him. Within a second your hand tightened on his face, fingertips pressing gently into either side of his jaw, angling his face back towards you. His eyes flashed open, fully alert now.

“Look at me,” you whispered. “Wanna see those pretty eyes on me while I fuck you.”

He groaned at the words, pushing himself up into a seated position so your chests were almost touching. The new angle made you moan, and you loved the way the softest part of your stomachs brushed against each other every time you lowered your hips against his. Maintaining your hold on his face, you knocked your forehead lightly against his, nudging his nose with yours.

“Come on,” you urged, speeding up the rhythm just a little. “Tell me, baby, I—fuck—I wanna hear you. Do you feel good?”

“Yes,” he choked out. His voice was rough and wanton with need, and he wet his lips quickly upon hearing it. He almost looked shy, with his flushed cheeks and pouted swollen lips.

You hummed, hand drifting from his cheek to hover over his neck. Joel stiffened, nose pressing against your cheek as his head dropped forward doggedly. You let your fingertips graze the side of his neck, thumb brushing over his Adam’s apple.

“Is this what you want?” you murmured.

“Yes,” he repeated against your skin and you grinned, applying soft pressure on either side of his neck.

He moaned a low, tortured sound in response, and you leaned back to watch his mouth hang open as the sensation heightened everything he was feeling. With your free hand you stretched down to take one of his off the bed, and placed it firmly on the plush globe of your ass cheek. Joel’s eyes shot open in surprise, hand tightening instinctively.

He squeezed, gripping the flesh so tight it had you gasping, taking full advantage of the new freedom he’d been afforded. He used his hold to push you up and down faster, quickening the pace of your hips. And every time he bottomed out, he held you down on him for a second longer than you’d planned to allow, ensuring you felt every inch of him, every ridge and vein as he throbbed inside you, pressing against the deepest part of your core. You could already feel bruises forming where the tips of his calloused fingers squeezed you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Until you began to notice the signs, that is – the way his jaw slackened and his eyes glazed over. Relaxing your grip on his neck, you instead stroked your fingers along the skin there, feeling his thrumming pulse; listening to his hoarse laboured breaths; watching the way the rise and fall of his chest had rapidly increased. His cock twitched inside you.

“C’mon,” you whispered. “Tell me.”

“M’so fuckin’ close,” he garbled out mindlessly.

“Yeah?”

“Y’feel so good,” he gasped, words slurring together. “Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, s’like you were made f’me.”

“Mmm, I know,” you hummed, dropping your hand to press down over his stomach. The muscles contracted under your fingers, tensing over and over again as you moved along his cock. “But you can’t come yet, Joel.”

His eyes snapped to your face, lips silently forming your name.

“I mean it,” you warned in a low voice, hips never ceasing their movement. “I’m not done with you.”

“You can fuck me again,” he shook his head. His face all but crumpled, pupils blown so wide that his eyes were almost entirely black. “Can fuck me as many times as you want, do whatever you want with me.”

You grinned breathlessly. “I know.”

“Please,” his voice cracked, abdomen tensing as you sunk down on him with a particularly heavy thrust. A high-pitched moan left your lips as you grinded your clit against the coarse hair at his base. “M’so close, darlin’.”

“No, Joel,” you admonished quickly, tone clearly too condescending for his liking.

Anger flashed across his face. Sharp and fast, but impossible to miss.

“Fuck you,” he hissed. You clenched around him without meaning to, the fire in your abdomen burning hotter as you watched his patience wane.

Swallowing down a moan, you gave him a measured look, and stopped moving entirely, relaxing your thighs against his.

“That’s not very nice,” you ground out. Joel’s expression loosened, panic glinting in his eyes. “What ever happened to southern hospitality, huh sugar? Do you think you deserve anything if that’s how you’re going to talk to me?” Not waiting for a response, you lifted your hips up, and his cock began to slide out of you painfully slow.

“No, no,” his hands lifted off the bed, hovering warily in the air over your thighs. “Wait, m’sorry, fuck—”

You ignored him, lifting up until you were completely separated. You gasped in unison at the loss, and you fought against the voice in your head that told you to just forget it – to end the entire charade. But you held strong.

“Is that any way to speak to a woman?” you teased, resting your ass on the meat of his thighs. The corners of his mouth were downturned, eyebrows furrowed as he stared despondently at you, face the picture definition of frustration. His length hung heavy in between you, glistening with a thin layer of slick and pre-come.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated softly, and your stomach twisted at the earnestness in his eyes. He meant it, and you knew that. Your sweet, kind, loving man… so quick to temper. And forgiving him too fast would be just setting a bad example.

“You know I can do this without you,” you lied dolefully, stroking a hand along the damp skin of your own thigh. “You’re nothing special, y’can’t do anything I couldn’t do just as well to myself.”

His frown deepened at your words, hurt flashing across his features. But he knew better than to speak in that moment – knew better than to dig himself into an even deeper hole by trying to argue.

“I want you to watch me,” you ordered sternly, fingers stroking thoughtfully through the coarse hair on your mound. “And if you touch me, or yourself, I won’t make you come tonight. Not even once. If you want to touch yourself so badly, be my guest, but you’ll be finishing yourself off.”

Dark eyes flashed down, jaw flexing as he watched your fingers dip to slide between your folds. You let out an exaggerated sound, gaze trained on the way his eyes devoured your movements. You spotted the muscle in his bicep tightening and loosening intermittently, and noticed that he was gripping the bedsheets so tight that you almost worried they would tear.

Moving carefully, you trailed a finger to the apex of your core and began to run circles over your clit, humming genuinely as the pleasure that had been building inside of you was reignited.

It used to make you shy, the way you touched yourself. The way your brain would run hazy with pleasure, and your hands would take on a mind of their own, grazing over your body as you shivered beneath your own touch. But now? It made you feel fucking formidable. The way you squeezed your breasts, made yourself gasp as you pinched and rolled your nipples. To rub a hand over your lower stomach and press against the soft flesh there, putting pressure on all the nerves underneath the skin to stimulate your g-spot. You were greedy, never stinging away or pulling back from what you knew felt good. It was intoxicating, knowing every intricate part of what made your own body tick. And you knew for a fact that it was like a drug to Joel to see you touch yourself.

His dark eyes glared at your fingers, awestruck as he watched your movements, tongue swiping greedily over his lips as if in an attempt to taste you again. And when you moaned, he did too, soft groans slipping past his lips and hands fisting in the bedsheets as he watched your fingers disappear inside yourself over and over again.

“That’s it,” Joel said roughly. “Add another finger for me, wanna see you stretch yourse—.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, refusing to do as he asked. He grunted, lips pursing closed. “You like watching me like this? Seeing how I touch myself?” He moaned his assent, raking a hand through his unruly curls.

You were already so high strung, so pent up, that it didn’t take long for you to bring yourself to the precipice. And as you approached to your end, expression contorting in pleasure, Joel’s eyes dragged upward to focus on your face instead of your pussy. Devastated, his eyes flicked once back down to your slick fingers, unsure of what he wanted to see more, before steadfastly holding eye contact with you. And as the high washed over you in sharp, twitching waves, he held your gaze, eyes raking across your features and delighting in the way your jaw hung open in a stupor.

You rode the waves of your pleasure for a moment, only the stopping the ministrations of your soaked fingers when your clit began to burn with oversensitivity. Your eyes slowly flicked open to find Joel’s gaze still trained on your face, although his expression was lax now. His lips formed a small, somewhat dazed smile, and you felt heat rise in your neck at the way he stared at you. All lust forgotten for a moment, he simply watched.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” you teased softly, your own mouth lilting into a grin.

“I’m admirin’ you,” he repeated your words from earlier in the night, and you huffed out a short laugh.

“You were so good, Joel,” you responded kindly, leaning forward on trembling legs to cup his face. “So patient, let me fuck myself on top of you and didn’t try to touch me once. Did everything I asked, just like you said you would.”

“Of course,” he murmured, turning to press a chaste kiss to the inside of your palm. “I’m sorry.”

Confusion flitted through you, and then you relaxed, remembering the way he had cursed at you. “It’s okay, honey. Why don’t you c’mere?”

Still smiling, he pushed back into a seated position, this time pressing his chest flush to yours. You looped an arm around his neck, toying with the short curls at the base of his neck as he lined himself back up to your entrance. Once he was in position, he gave you a quick look to check in, and in response you simply sunk your hips over him, letting him fill you to the brim once more. He sighed in relief, forehead pressing against yours.

Tilting your chin forward, you dragged your lips lightly across his, kissing him for the first time in what felt like hours.

“Where do you want to touch me?” you asked.

“Everywhere,” he breathed into your mouth.

Your fingers tightened on the back of his neck, tongue trailing lazily along the seam of his lips. “Then touch me, baby.”

His hands were on you in a second. Calloused palms running over the skin of your back, your shoulders, your hips, fingers gripping flesh for leverage as he began to fuck up into you. He had always been an attentive lover, with a keen eye for attention to detail. And it was never as apparent as when he was touching you. Because as he held you against his chest, dragging you harshly over his cock, he did everything just the way you liked it - the way you did it when you were touching yourself.

His palm pushed on your lower stomach, applying pressure there to intensify the feeling against your g-spot. And when your hands drifted to touch your breasts, his hands came up to cover yours, and you squeezed them together until he brushed your hands away to twist and play with one of your nipples, mouth dropping to flick his tongue against the other.

It was intoxicating. Both of you so drunk on the feeling of each other, of finally throwing out the pretence and just being together, that you found yourself hurtling towards the edge faster than ever.

As if he read your mind, Joel’s mouth left your breast, face pulling back to watch you, saying “I’m not gonna last.”

“It’s okay,” you panted heavily. “You can—I want you to come.”

“Need to feel you,” he frowned, shaking his head dizzily. “Want to feel you come around me, please.”

“I will,” you swore. “Come on, give it to me.”

“It’s yours,” he whimpered, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you to him. “Fuckin’ take it, it’s yours.”

His hips begun to falter in their movement, and you picked up the slack with ease, rotating your hips against him to maintain the pace he’d set. His cock jumped inside of you in quick, jerking movements, and as soon as you felt his hot release inside you, your own orgasm hit like a freight train, walls pulsing around him, sucking him in as deep as you could take him. Your vision blacked out for a second, the intensity of multiple orgasms finally catching up to you and making you almost lightheaded. Extended moans and laboured breaths mingled in the air, forming a raucous symphony as you rode out your highs. Sweat beaded across his temples and dripped down the hard lines of his face. Your lower half shook with the intensity of it, thighs bracketed firmly against the outside of his hips. Joel sung your name, wet lips pressing the word into the flesh of your neck and repeating it there, embedding it into your sweat-soaked skin like it was all he knew how to say anymore.

“Fuuck,” he dragged out once your hips stopped moving, his teeth nipping gently against your pulse point.

“Oh honey,” you murmured, head lolling forward to peck his forehead. “Don’t tell me you’re throwing in the towel? I seem to remember you saying something about how I could fuck you again, and do whatever I want with you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” his shoulders shook as he laughed quietly, keeping his face hidden in the crook of your neck. “Give me a damn minute.”

Although you could feel his length softening inside of you, and a mix of both of your come was steadily seeping out past his girth to make a mess of your thighs, you didn’t move just yet. And Joel seemed more than content to stay put, his strong arms enveloping your body almost entirely as he held you against his chest, breaths slowly beginning to even out. You shifted your head to the side to peer at his face, smiling when you saw that his eyes had indeed fallen shut.

“Lay down,” you encouraged quietly, letting out a quiet huff of surprise when he simply fell backwards into the mattress, dragging you down with him. Adjusting your legs to rest more comfortably on either side of him, you laid your head against his collarbone, pressing soft kisses to the burning skin of his chest.

“Just a minute,” he mumbled in assurance, although his eyes stayed closed and his breaths deepened.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly. “Can I get you some water? Something to eat?”

He hummed; eyes cracking open to peer blearily at you. “Water sounds about right.” You nodded, moving to get up from the bed, but he held you down, palm solid on your lower back. “Not just yet though,” he added quickly. “Just stay with me for a minute.”

“Okay baby,” you kissed his collarbone, allowing him a few more minutes of rest before you forced him to drink a litre of water and allow you to clean him up. His fingers mindlessly traced a pattern onto the skin of your back, stirring goosebumps across your flesh.

Slowly, a smirk slid across your face and you tilted your chin up to gaze at him once more. “Just saying though—you should probably get out of here before my boyfriend gets home. He’s pretty quick to anger, and I have a feeling he’d kill you if he found out what we just did.”

Joel groaned loudly, hand reaching up to press over your mouth and muffle your laughter. “Jesus, do you ever stop talking?”

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller smut #sub!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #my writing #be good

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roosterforme · 7 months

Text

Do You Wanna Touch Me? | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You had been working at the bar for six months. And you'd been crushing on Rooster since the first night he handed you his credit card, called you Babydoll, and asked you to start a tab for him. And it only got worse from there, until one night you asked him about more than just his drink order.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, age gap, and smut

Length: 5800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for my Top Gun Rocktober playlist! Check out my masterlist for more!

"Oh, my god," you whined softly, drying and polishing the rack of pint glasses in front of you as Rooster Bradshaw came strolling into the bar. "Fuck me," you sighed, barely able to keep your eyes off him as you fumbled one of the glasses.

"Yeah, you'd like that," Lizzy said with a laugh as she cut up some lemons before the Friday evening rush.

You didn't even know you spoke out loud. That's how much of a ridiculous crush you had on that big, sexy man. But he strolled right past you on his way to the pool table, barely even sparing a smile in your direction.

"I really would," you told her, watching the flex of his bicep as he high fived Hangman. It wasn't like your coworkers didn't know you had a thing for Rooster. You'd been working here for six months, and you'd been crushing on him since the first night he handed you his credit card, called you Babydoll, and asked you to start a tab for him. And it only got worse from there.

He still occasionally called you Babydoll. He never called Lizzy or Jasmine by a pet name. Just you. And you held onto that little glimmer of hope that it meant something. That maybe one day, he'd look at you as more than just one of the bartenders.

"What's wrong with you?" Jas asked, waving a hand in front of your face. But then she looked where you were staring, and she asked no further questions. "Oh. Rooster's here."

"He sure is," you added, forcing yourself to focus on the customer in front of you who looked impatient for a drink. As you finished pouring him some tequila shots, you looked up eagerly, and Rooster met your eyes. It had been a solid week since you'd seen him, and he just always looked so good.

You pushed the shot glasses across the bar and collected payment, trying to stay as cool as you could. Because Rooster was heading your way now in his snug vintage wash jeans and bright tropical shirt.

"Hey, Babydoll," he rasped, and your whole body clenched with need as your eyes fluttered closed. When you met his gaze again, he was leaning on the bar, closing in on your personal space.

"Hey, Rooster," you replied, sounding a lot calmer than you felt. When he smirked and looked down at your shirt, your heart pounded even harder. Your name was embroidered on your Hard Deck top, just above your breast. He knew your name, but he always called you Babydoll anyway. So was he just simply staring at your tits?

He cleared his throat and asked, "Get me a beer? Please?"

"Am I starting a tab?" you asked, reaching for one of the pint glasses you'd just finished cleaning. He responded by humming and sliding his credit card across the bar. He held eye contact with you while you expertly pulled the perfect pint of his preferred beer. The way his lips parted in a soft smile that matched yours, the twitch of his mustache...it all felt like foreplay that had been going on for months.

"Thanks," he muttered when your fingers brushed against his. He winked at you before turning back to the pool table, leaving you with his credit card and a desperate need inside of you.

As you set up his tab, Jasmine ran her hand along your lower back so you wouldn't bump her as she walked behind you. "Why don't you just invite him to join you in the bathroom and fuck him out of your system?" she joked.

"Because," you sighed, "that would only make me pine harder. Getting a small taste of him would be worse than nothing at all."

"Oof," Lizzy replied. "You're a mess over Bradshaw."

"I wonder how old he is?" Jas asked.

You hummed and shrugged, watching him drink his beer across the room while you shook a vodka martini. "Gotta be at least thirty five."

"Ask him," Lizzy said. "Next time he comes over, ask him how old he is."

Your cheeks were warming up. He was bending at the waist, playing pool, and you were taking way too long to serve this martini. "No. What if he thinks I'm being rude? Or worse...what if he catches on that I like him, and he shuts it all down."

"Fine," Jas said, uncapping some ciders. "Next time Rooster comes up, I'll wait on him."

But that really didn't sit well with you. Rooster always came to you for his drinks, anytime he could. You liked that about him. You liked his attention. Jas wouldn't pour his pints quite as well as you could. You knew so well how much foam to let spill and how close to the top of the glass you could get. You loved pulling those pints of lager for him. And you loved pouring him bourbon when he asked for that instead. You knew which brand and that he liked it neat. You didn't have to ask. He didn't have to tell you.

No, you should always be the one to wait on him. And when he finished his pint and strolled back up to the bar after Phoenix beat him at pool, you stepped in front of Jasmine. "I got it," you said confidently, and Jas walked away chuckling. This time Rooster eased himself down onto an empty stool between two women who looked at him like they'd just won the lottery. But his eyes were on you.

"Lager or bourbon?" you asked, and you were rewarded with those perfect, white teeth and his deep laughter.

"You got everyone's regular drinks memorized?" he asked as you reached for his empty glass. But he didn't let you take it. He kept one hand on the glass for a few beats while your fingers met his.

He was making you feel bold tonight. He was even more gorgeous up close like this, with a few gray hairs at his temples and some laugh lines around his eyes. His eyebrows shot up, and his smile faltered when you said, "No, Rooster. Not everybody's regular drinks. Only the hottest guys. Lager or bourbon?"

He grunted and swallowed hard. "Dealer's choice." Then he finally let you take the empty glass, and it was a good thing, too, because you needed to turn away from him. You took a few extra seconds to reach for the bottle of Wild Turkey. Your nipples were hard, your skin felt like it was on fire, and you were turned on just talking to him.

When you turned back to face him, his gaze was neutral again. You uncapped the bourbon and poured it for him, neat.

"Thanks," he murmured, moving like he was standing to leave.

And then your mouth worked before your brain, and you said, "Anytime, Sexy."

You watched him pause halfway out of his seat, his eyes dipping down to watch you nervously lick your lips. If he left for the pool table, you really were going to have to let Jasmine wait on him next time. Embarrassment flooded your veins, leaving you uncomfortable with a sheen of cold sweat on your neck. But he eased himself back down onto the stool and kept his eyes on you. "Alright. Babydoll."

You laughed softly, pulling out some glasses for the woman who wanted two cosmos. Rooster sipped his bourbon and kept his focus on your face and your body. He grunted as you took a shaker in each hand, and as you poured them out at the same time, he asked, "What's your favorite drink?"

He was hyper focused on you now, leaning in just the slightest bit further as you served both pink drinks. "To have or to make?" you asked, taking more orders.

"Both. I want you to tell me both."

You smiled at him, and he matched it right away. "Nothing is more fun to make than an expertly crafted Bloody Mary, but those are best as breakfast cocktails."

He nodded, accepting your answer, and then he asked, "And what do you order when you go out?"

You shrugged. "I don't often get to have someone make my drinks for me, but when I do, I usually order a Manhattan."

"A Manhattan?" he asked, balking at your answer. "How fuckin' old are you, Babydoll? People in their seventies drink those things!"

"I'm twenty three," you told him, laughing so hard you were doubled over. He looked delighted when you were finally able to stand up straight again. Your smile was still bright as you leaned on the bar until you were only two feet from his face and softly asked, "How old are you?"

The song on the jukebox changed as Rooster rubbed his mustache and said, "I'm a lot older than you are." His little self deprecating laugh just made you want to get closer to him. He looked amused by you and also resigned to the fact that he thought his age was something you wouldn't like about him.

"How old?" you asked again, biting your lip.

His brown eyes found your mouth, and you thought for a moment that he was going to kiss you. Oh god, you wanted him to, so badly. "I'm thirty eight."

You hummed softly as Phoenix came to stand next to him, and you started to get her favorite kind of beer ready.

"You coming back to the pool table?" she asked Rooster, but he just grunted something about needing to finish his bourbon first. When you handed Phoenix her drink, Rooster told you to put it on his tab, and he looked relieved when she walked away.

"Thirty eight," you said, watching him down the remainder of the drink in his glass. "That's why you're so good at flirting? You've had time to practice?"

He coughed a little bit as he set his empty glass down on the bar top. "Babydoll, I'm fifteen years older than you."

"So?" you asked, pulling another perfect pint for him. "You don't want to flirt with me?"

"Now wait, that's not what I'm saying at all. Just surprised you don't want to flirt with someone your own age."

"I don't like boys my age," you told him fearlessly. "I like men."

"Oh, hell," he groaned, taking a long sip of his fresh beer. "Just look at you. You're gonna get yourself in trouble if you don't find a nice guy."

He looked flustered now. You were making Lieutenant Bradshaw flustered. His cheeks were pink, and he kept sipping his beer, avoiding your gaze. He looked adorable and boyish, and you didn't know quite what to do about this. Or about the fact that talking to him was making you wet.

"Hmmm," you hummed, and his eyes met yours immediately. "Are you a nice guy?"

"Fuck," he groaned, adjusting himself in his seat. "Sometimes."

"You're always pretty sweet to me," you whispered. "What's it like when you're not a nice guy, Rooster?"

You wanted to touch him for more than a few fleeting seconds. After six months, you thought you were going to. His long, thick fingers were just resting there in front of you. But then Fanboy came to the bar and asked you to close out his tab. And then you had to help Lizzy pour a massive round of shots. And then when Rooster asked you to close out his tab as well, you did it with a pout on your lips.

As you slid his credit card, the slip he needed to sign, and a pen across the bar, he smiled at you. "Aww, come on. Don't give me that look. You know how it is."

"I don't, actually," you replied, watching him sign the credit card receipt for you. "How is it?"

He looked up and studied your face. "You're too perfect to mess with, Babydoll. Too young. Too pretty to touch."

You chewed on your lip and squeezed your thighs together. You had to know. Your voice was soft and unsure as you asked him, "Do you wanna touch me?"

He didn't meet your eyes again as he scribbled on the receipt and then left it and the pen for you to collect. He stood up from his stool, gave a quick salute to his friends and then headed for the door.

You moaned helplessly. You blew it. He thought you were just a kid, and you never stood a chance. And now he'd probably never even look at you again.

But when you picked up the receipt, you read one word written there under his name. YES.

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

When you strolled into the bar the next evening, you got right to work. You had no idea if Rooster would show up, and you weren't sure if you even wanted to see him or not. You'd torn off the bottom of his credit card slip and taken it home with you. That little scrap of paper on which he'd admitted he wanted to touch you was hanging on your bedroom mirror. But it was the fact that he was probably never going to touch you, even though he was more than welcome to, that was making you frustrated.

"What's wrong with you?" Lizzy asked as she arrived a minute later. "You look hot."

You glanced down at your Hard Deck top, denim skirt and beat up sneakers. "I look the same as I always do," you told her, continuing to dump buckets of ice into the cooler behind the bar.

"Maybe it's your makeup," she replied. "I think you're hoping Rooster comes in tonight."

You rolled your eyes. "I always hope he's going to be here. He's pretty. I like looking at him."

"I'm not going to dispute that," Lizzy said as she cut up the lemons again tonight. "But I think you actually like him. Not just the way he looks."

You didn't respond, because it didn't matter. You'd keep the flirtation to a minimum the next time you saw him. The last thing you wanted to do was make him think you were desperate. He wanted to touch you? He could go right ahead. But you weren't about to beg him to.

As the bar got crowded, Jasmine showed up as well. The three of you got into a nice rhythm. A lot of the aviators were back again tonight, and you were serving them drink after drink. And then it was like you knew he was there before you saw him. After you handed a couple their drinks, your eyes automatically shifted toward the doorway, finding it filled with Rooster's big body. And he was already looking at you.

"You want me to wait on him?" Lizzy asked you softly as Rooster approached the bar.

But you just shook your head and reached for two different glasses, holding them up as he took a seat in front of you. When he pointed to the pint glass, he said, "Lager. Please."

"Sure," you replied, setting the smaller glass aside and pulling a perfect pint of beer for him. "Start a tab?"

"Nah, I'm not staying long tonight," he told you as you placed the beer in front of him without meeting his gaze. "Just wanted to see you and get one drink."

"Mmkay," you said. But when you pulled your hand away, he reached for it.

Stunned, you let him take your hand in his large one, and then he asked, "Does this mean you're done flirting with the old man now? You got it all out of your system yesterday?" His eyes were guarded, cautious, and he held onto your hand, expecting an answer.

You shook your head slowly, running your fingertips along his rough calluses. "I was just getting started."

A crooked little smile danced across his lips. "I am too old for you, Babydoll. And it's a shame."

Your heart jumped in your chest, hand still tangled up with his on the bar top. You could hear Lizzy and Jasmine working extra hard to take all the orders, trying to give you a moment here. So you smiled back. "You think you're old. So what? You expect me to call you Daddy?"

"Shit," he grunted, squirming a bit in his seat but keeping your hand in his.

When he didn't respond right away, you leaned a little closer, one eyebrow raised. "I asked you a question."

His eyes were wide, and that little grin was back. "I could be a... Daddy. Maybe for the right girl."

You pulled your hand free of his and planted both palms on the bar top and leaned closer to him. "And just how is a girl supposed to know if she's the right one?"

But his cheeks were tinged with pink once again, and he looked flustered. It was flattering, such an ego boost. You were the one who made him like this. But he wasn't responding now, and you needed to help Jas pour some chardonnay for the impatient ladies at the end of the bar. You sighed and said, "Well, I work until eleven. So just think on it."

But he wouldn't let you leave. Rooster reached for your hand again, but this time he was the one leaning closer. "The right girl would be one that I can't seem to stay away from. You said you work until eleven?"

"Yes," you replied softly, his large hand completely covering yours on the bar top.

"Right. Then ask me again if I want to start a tab."

You pressed your lips together, trying not to giggle. "Would you like to start a tab, Rooster?"

"You're damn right I would, Babydoll. I can't get enough of you. Think I'll just hang here until eleven. If that's okay with you."

This time you did giggle. "Yeah. That's okay with me." As he pulled his wallet out and handed you his credit card, you asked, "Bourbon or lager?"

"Make it a Manhattan."

"I've been told these drinks are for people in their seventies," you said with a straight face as you reached for the vermouth, secretly pleased he wanted your favorite. "You're only thirty eight."

"Listen," he said, watching you fix his drink. "You said you don't like boys your own age. And maybe I'm a little older than you, but all the parts are still in working order."

You felt giddy. When you set the glass down in front of him, you couldn't help but ask, "Does that mean you'll let me take you for a test drive?"

You had to work to keep an innocent expression on your face as Bradley's blush deepened. He took a sip of his Manhattan, licked his lips and said, "I don't do test drives anymore."

"Oh," you said with a little pout. "You don't?"

"No," he replied a bit cautiously, taking another sip of his cocktail. "I'm getting too old for that. I like at least a little bit of commitment from the driver. Don't wanna feel like I'll get dinged up."

You shivered at his words, mesmerized by his voice and his demeanor as he looked down into his glass. Could you do more than a test drive? Of course you'd thought about it. You were crushing so hard, you'd imagined what it would be like if he was your boyfriend. But you'd barely even let yourself hope for a one night stand. Even that much seemed too good to be true.

"Oh," you said again in a softer tone. When he glanced up, his dark eyes were no longer guarded, and he was looking at you warily. Without giving it much thought, you pushed up onto the bar and leaned until he met you halfway in a kiss. It was just the softest brush of your lips against his. But the sound he made and the prickle of his mustache on your skin left you wide eyed and out of breath as you eased yourself back down. "No. You're too handsome to get all dinged up. I'm a great driver."

"Yeah," he said with a little laugh. "I can already tell. And that's what I was afraid of last night. There's just something about you, isn't there?"

"You have a thing for me?" you asked him, gripping the edge of the bar top. "Because I definitely have a thing for you." You had stopped breathing now, and your heart was pounding in your ears.

With a little grin, he said, "Yeah, I do, Babydoll."

"Well, what are we going to do about it, Daddy?" you asked with another giggle as Jasmine thrust a bottle of prosecco into your hands.

"We're going to go out my Bronco the minute your shift is over. We'll figure it out there."

You nearly dropped the bottle when you met his eyes. "A quickie?" you asked softly, but you were sure he heard you.

"No," he groaned, running his big palm along his mouth and shaking his head at you. Then he finished the rest of his Manhattan in one gulp and pushed the glass your way. "Nothing about this is gonna be quick. I'd like to take my time, especially with someone as perfect as you."

You sounded like a feral animal, thighs clenched together and gripping the bottle of prosecco with both hands.

"Shit," Rooster grunted. "You're making it hard to just sit here, Babydoll."

"Hard?" you asked with a grin.

"You'll find out."

After another embarrassing noise, you had to excuse yourself to the other end of the bar for a few minutes. Jesus, you needed to keep your job, after all. But his eyes followed you everywhere. Any time you looked his way, he was transfixed on you. When you pulled a pint of lager and set it down for him, he whispered, "Thanks, Babydoll," sending shivers along your skin again.

"Anything else you want, Rooster?" you asked him sweetly.

His gaze dipped down to your chest before returning to your face. "Nothing I'm allowed to have inside the bar."

"At least not when we're open to the public, sir," you replied, giving him a little salute that had him reaching for you across the bar. But you managed to skirt away from his grasp with another laugh.

"You coming back over here?" he asked between sips of his beer. "I didn't get a chance to ask you if you'll make me a Bloody Mary for breakfast tomorrow morning."

"Breakfast?"

"Yeah. Breakfast," he confirmed with a smile. "At my place?"

You pressed your lips together to keep from screaming. "So since this isn't a test drive, what are my options, exactly? Am I looking at a lease? A financing package?"

"I'm sure you'll know what you want to do when the time comes. And I'm going to need you to stop saying package right now."

"Just go," Jasmine told you suddenly. "It's after ten, and you're useless. You and he have had hours of foreplay already. Go."

"Are you sure?" you asked, already reaching for your bag and Rooster's credit card.

"Yes," Lizzy confirmed. Then she looked at Rooster who was already standing up and told him, "Pay your tab next week. And get her out of here."

"My pleasure," he rasped, and you practically ran for the opening in the bar, ducking underneath the counter. And when you stood up again, he was right there. He was so tall and broad, and with a coy smile, you slipped his credit card into the pocket of his jeans. When your fingers trailed closer to his zipper, he grabbed your wrist gently.

"Just checking for myself to make sure all the parts are working," you mused as he raised your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles gently. In the middle of the crowded bar. Then he wrapped your fingers around the back of his neck, and you pulled him down for a kiss.

He kept it pretty clean as he promised, "Wait until we get outside."

"Now," you demanded, pulling him along behind you by his shirt collar. As soon as the cool, night air met your hot skin, he had your bare thighs in his hands, and your back was pressed against the side of the building. "Oh my god," you gasped. Your body was pinned between the siding and Rooster, and the rough denim of his jeans was rubbing you deliciously through your underwear.

"I told you I'm not going to rush," he whispered, pressing into you as you held onto his shoulders. He teased you with that delicious mustache and his lips on your neck before he kissed your ear and said, "Now, I'm gonna need verbal confirmation, Babydoll."

"Yes!" you nearly shouted. "Everything!"

He chuckled next to your ear and asked, "You wanna fuck in my Bronco?"

"Yes," you moaned so loudly, you were sure Jasmine and Lizzy could hear you.

"I don't have any condoms with me," he said, looking you in the eye. "Do we need them?"

"No, I'm clean, and I take the pill," you said, leaning in to kiss his lips. He tasted you, running the tip of his tongue along yours before pulling his lips away.

You whined for him, but he was undeterred. "I need you to tell me that you'll come home with me and make me that Bloody Mary in the morning while I make you breakfast."

He already wanted you to sleep over with him. He wanted to make you breakfast. He didn't want to have a one night stand. He was waiting for an answer. "You'll have to let me know if you want it traditional or extra spicy."

"Fuck," he grunted before his lips came crashing against yours. His big hands held your thighs wide as he rolled his hips gently against you.

"Rooster," you moaned against his lips as he let you gently slide down his body until your feet hit the ground.

"Please call me Bradley," he whispered as he wrapped his hand around your waist and quickly guided you across the dark parking lot.

When you saw the Bronco, you ran the last little bit hand in hand. His laughter mixed with yours as he unlocked the door. "Come on, Bradley," you sang, looking up at him over your shoulder before climbing up onto the driver's seat on your hands and knees. "Do you wanna touch me?"

"Babydoll," he moaned, keeping you still as he guided your skirt up over your butt and around your waist. You cried out as he kissed the backs of your thighs. He slipped his fingers inside the thin strips of lace fabric that made up your thong, and you couldn't ever remember being this turned on before.

"Bradley!" you gasped loudly when his lips and tongue met the globe of your rear end. He slid the lace to one side and kissed your slit from behind until you were panting. You might cum. You might actually have an orgasm on your hands and knees with your ass in his face. Boys your own age couldn't get you like this no matter what they did.

He gently swatted at you before palming your ass and saying, "Get in the backseat."

Oh yes. He was about to show you what else his age and experience had to offer, and you were already shaking with need. "Yes, sir," you whispered, and you heard him mutter a string of obscenities as you scrambled onto the backseat. As he slid the driver's seat forward and climbed in the back, you carefully pulled your underwear down your thighs. He helped you and then pressed the lace to his nose before pulling you onto his lap.

"I've thought about this so many times when I touched myself," you blurted out as he teased your clit with his thumb. "Bronco sex," you whined, head tipped back, enjoying the perfect pressure he applied to your body. "Bronco sex with Bradley Bradshaw."

"Forgive me, Babydoll," he whispered, voice harsh. "But last night was the first time I jerked off thinking about you. Too afraid to go there before that, thinking there was no way in hell you'd want me."

"I want you," you swore, meeting his eyes in the near darkness. If anyone else was out in the parking lot, you couldn't see them. And you didn't care if they could see you, because he was slipping one thick finger inside you. "Wanted you for so long. Months and months."

"Jesus, you're tight," he groaned, sliding your snug top up to your chest as you rode his hand. "And you skipped a bra tonight like a good girl."

"Bradley," you gasped as he cupped your bare breast in his big hand. He lazily swirled his thumb around your nipple before bending to take you into his mouth. "Oh my god!"

Your orgasm was already building. You had only been in the backseat with him for a few minutes, and he was still fully clothed. But now you were riding two fingers, and his thumb was delicious against your clit. As he licked and sucked on your breast, you started to clench.

"Damn," he muttered against your body. "Already?"

You just nodded before guiding his lips up to yours, and you came as you moaned loudly against his mouth. "Bradley." You raked your fingers up into his hair and kissed him. He was hard through his jeans, and when he withdrew his fingers, you felt them trail up your body.

"You're so pretty," he whispered, pulling your top over your head. "You'll look even better in my bed."

You wanted him to fuck you here first, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't already thought about his place and what he might make you for breakfast. And as you sat straddled his hips in nothing but your skirt up around your waist and your sneakers on your feet, you felt adored by him. He was kissing a trail down between your breasts and rubbing his thumbs along your thighs.

"Bradley," you whined, rubbing your pussy against his jeans, already feeling a little wrung out. "Please."

The street light at the corner reflected in his eyes, letting you know he was looking at your face as he raised his hips and unzipped his jeans. And a few seconds later, they were down around his knees along with his underwear. Your lips met his as you felt the velvety soft tip of his cock resting against your core. As you kissed him and tugged on his hair, he throbbed for you. And suddenly you weren't in such a hurry either.

"Let me make you feel good," he whispered, and as you slid down around him, Bradley guided you with his hands on your hips. "You're so wet, my god."

"You always make me wet, even when you just talk to me at the bar," you admitted softly, your voice shaking as he kept pushing deeper inside you. "Oh. You're huge."

"Am I hurting you?" he asked, pausing where he was. But you just shook your head and rolled your hips slowly until he was completely inside you. He kissed you softly as you gasped and got used to him. "I don't wanna hurt this sweet pussy," he whispered next to your ear. "Perfect."

And then he brushed his knuckles along your clit and leaned his head back, watching as you rode him. "Take it off," you gasped, and he let you push his shirt down his arms and pull his tank over his head. You explored his broad chest with your hands and his shoulders with your lips. He was warm and rough and oh so sweet. His chest hairs brushed against your nipples as he guided your hips with his hands.

"Bradley?"

"Hmm?"

You wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed his lips. "Fuck. So good." He felt delicious, his big hands everywhere, sliding up to span your back and keep you close. He fucked you in long, fluid movements that just got faster and faster. His pubes were coarse against your clit. His little grunts and words of praise kept you going as you started squeezing around his cock.

"Don't stop, Babydoll," he coaxed as you got closer. When his lips met your sweat slick chest again, and he pulled your nipple between his teeth, you came for him.

"Oh!"

As your legs shook and your fingers went loose in his hair, Bradley fucked up into you until you were screaming his name.

"Good girl," he grunted, and suddenly you were on your back along the seat with your legs spread wide. He fucked you with long, hard strokes that made your tits bounce and prolonged your orgasm. His lips were everywhere, and you were surrounded by his voice in the dark, holding onto his biceps as he came inside you.

You scrambled to get your mouth on his as you both caught your breath together, and as your heartbeat started to return to normal, you pressed a dozen soft kisses to his lips, one after the next. "Will you take me home?"

His hands stilled on your thigh and your neck. "Yeah," he said with a tone of sadness. "I can drop you off at home."

When he started pulling away without so much as another kiss, you reached for him, keeping him firmly inside you. "No, no. Take me home with you, Bradley."

"My place?" His voice was still soft, but it sounded hopeful now.

"Of course," you reassured him, and his kisses returned. "I'll spend the whole morning tomorrow making you Bloody Marys with little heart shaped garnishes."

He smiled against your lips before he said, "I'd like that, Babydoll."

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

The Hard Deck was pretty busy the following evening, and you were so physically exhausted from your night with Bradley, you could barely keep up. The Sunday crowd was keeping you on your toes, and Jasmine wouldn't stop asking you how your night ended.

"Did you go home with him? You did. I can tell," she said as you just shrugged at all of her questions. "Are you going to see him again? Come on! Tell me!"

When you saw movement on the other side of the bar top, Jasmine's eyes went wide. "Hey, babydoll." The deep rumble of his voice was so distinct, you didn't need to look at him to know it was Bradley. He had whispered dirty, sweet things in your ears all night and all morning. You knew the sound of his voice by heart now.

When your eyes met his, you reached for a pint glass and filled it with his favorite beer. "Hey, Bradley. Wanna start a tab?" you asked with a soft smile.

You giggled as he reached for your hand and tugged you closer. Then he leaned across the bar and kissed you as his nose brushed against yours. "For you? Always. And don't close the tab until your shift ends."

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

No more test drives. I'm sure she's already considering her options to make him hers permanently. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32. Also, the pretty banner was made by Mak!

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nova-amor · 6 months

Text

𓈒∘☁︎ ◜ 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 ◞

��𝐰 — 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢-𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐱 [𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦], 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 [𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟], 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥 [𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 & 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐞𝐝], 𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 [𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝, 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.], 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐩-𝐢𝐧-𝐯

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 𝟐𝐤

painted nails danced along the laminated wood of the bar top, your faint reflection glaring back at you from below. minutes went by slowly, prodding at the bubbling anger within your chest. you were supposed to be meeting your boyfriend, yet with no call, no text, it seemed like he had abandoned you again. it had been the sixth time that month you had received radio silence from your boyfriend on the nights you two had planned to go out.

you had planned to have dinner at a nice restaurant along the water, agreeing to meet at a nearby bar before your reservation time. but, as the hours grew closer to the reservation time, and without a single message from your boyfriend, it seemed like he skipped out on yet another date night.

you raised your hand with your gaze still fixated on the black screen of your phone— silently hoping and praying that he would call or at least text you before you ordered another drink. the universe ignored such prayer, the bartender returning with a pitiful smile. you flipped your phone onto its front, finally giving up the notion that your boyfriend would be phoning you anytime soon. you'd have to wait to see what excuse he came up with later that evening when you got home.

"can i get another cosmopolitan, please?" you ordered, earning a light nod from the bartender. the martini glass appeared within seconds, the hot pink liquid glimmering beneath the warm glows of the bar lights.

you finished the drink in two long gulps— the chilled vodka and orange liqueur burning your throat on its way down. before you could even raise your hand, another martini glass appeared before you, accompanied by a shot glass full of a caramel brown liquid.

with a quirked eyebrow, you met the gaze of the bartender. they pointed to a spot down the bar, silently answering the question you hadn't even asked. following their direction, your eyes landed on a devastatingly handsome man sitting hidden away in the shadows of the bar. you swallowed thickly; your heart skipping a beat as his honey-brown eyes met yours. your thighs squeezed together, a flush of heat rising to your chest and cheeks.

turning your gaze away, you gulped down the second cosmopolitan within seconds, allowing the fire of the alcohol to course through your veins and stroke at your confidence. with a steady exhale, you gathered up your purse and phone with one hand and the shot glass with the other. you walked with a confidence you didn't know you had, chewing at your bottom lip as you took a seat next to the man.

your eyes drank his appearance in, wetness beginning to pool between your thighs as you set your items on the bar top. he wore a tight-fitting, solid white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbows— fabric straining against the thick muscles of his arms, black and white illustrations etched into the tanned skin. your gaze lowered for a brief second, mouth-watering at the sight of his large thighs flexing beneath the dark cloth of his tailored suit pants, the heel of his foot subtly tapping against the polished floor of the bar.

"take a picture, why don't ya," the roughness of his voice caught you off-guard, cutting right through you like butter. you bashfully looked away, focusing your sights on the shot glass, murmuring a quick apology.

"so, what's a little bird like you doin' here all on her own, huh?" he grumbled, tentatively watching as he raised his glass to his pink lips. you twirled the shot glass around, cupping it between both your hands. you softly mumbled about waiting for your boyfriend before dinner barely loud enough for the man next to you to hear, stomach tightening as you met his intense gaze again.

you could practically smell him across the short distance, lingering warm aromas of patchouli and amber wood overwhelming your senses. your face feels hot as he glances at you through the side of his eye. his finger tracing the rim of his glass before taking another quick sip of his drink, finishing it off before waving the bartender down to order another.

"cat caught yer tongue, lass?" he teases with a smirk, body turning to face you. you shift in your stool, fiddling with the shot glass once more before taking it down in one long swallow. bourbon— the flavor notes of tobacco and honey staining every crevice of your mouth, scorching down your throat and to the pit of your stomach.

"no," you finally speak, straightening your back as you turn to face him. your knees were an inch or two from brushing against his, bodies so close you could see every hint of gold in his eyes even under the guise of the bar's shadow. "just not used to speaking to strangers."

his smirk grew, the tops of his cheeks painted a faint hue of pink.

"don't have t' be strangers, little bird," he looks you dead in your eye, leaning in close to you. you could feel the heat radiating off of him, pussy clenching around nothing as his soft lips brush against the shell of your ear, his warm breath fanning across the side of your face. "especially if you grab another bevvy with me."

the drinks came and passed in a blur, heating every nerve in your body with each sip and making the tips of your fingers tingle with a faint buzz. you were still cognitive enough to make conversation, the exchange of words between you and the man flowing with ease with the assistance of liquid confidence. your body leaned against the man's arm, head resting upon his shoulder. a rough hand ghosting over your thigh, fingertips brushing against the edge of your skirt as you tilt your head up to meet his eyes.

"what a shame yer boyfriend left ya all alone," the man's fingers tease at the smooth flesh of your thigh, dipping between your legs. his large hand encompassed almost the entirety of your inner thigh, the tip of his pinky poking at the damp cloth of your crotch. "but, at least he left ya with good company, ain't that right, little bird?"

you nod in agreement, chewing at the soft flesh of your inner cheek. your body shifts in your seat, spreading your legs a bit more to allow him more access to the sensitive space.

"easy girl, eh? boyfriend not givin' ya enough attention? openin' ya legs so easily f' me," your pussy clenches with the weight of his words, his fingers cupping your cunt, causing a small whimper to slip out. "need me t' take care of ya, little bird?"

you let out an uncontrolled moan as he strokes at the slit of your cunt, caressing your clit with small, delicate circles. one of your hands reaches up to cup the side of his neck, tilting his face down and closer to yours. your lips brush against his, the woodsy hint of bourbon invading your nostrils.

"please," you whisper, your voice low and breathy. "need ya, need ya so bad."

he chuckles, the tip of his nose nudging against yours. his fingers feel so good on your clit, his pace quickening. if it weren't for your grip on him, you'd most likely fall off the back of the stool, your body willingly succumbing to him.

"little bird," he hums, brown eyes staring deep into you. you whine as his fingers retract from your stimulated core, his fingertips dampened with your arousal. "we can take it to the bathroom."

"mine," the man grunts into your ear, long fingers laced around your throat, constricting your breath. he's fucking starving—carving out your insides with his cock, imprinting every ridge and curve into the squishy walls of your cunt, devouring your entire being with almost little-to-no regard for you. "all fuckin' mine, such a good girl f'me. taken me cock like the perfect little thing ya are."

you try to suppress your moans, the walls of your cunt clenching hard around his cock. your eyes roll into the back of your head, tongue lolling out to the side, drool seeping out the edges of your mouth. your hands are pressed to the cool porcelain of the sink, gripping at the edges in search of support against the man's brutal hips rutting against your ass cheeks.

his cock plunges deep in and out of you at a rigorous pace, hot breath warming up your cheek. he leans back and releases your neck, the sweetness of air seeping into your lungs as his hands find their place on your hips. his fingernails dig into the soft flesh, a coy smirk tugging at his lips as he meets your gaze through the mirror's reflection.

"bet yer little boyfriend doesn't fuck ya nearly as good as i do, huh? doesn't know how t' make ya into a needy, begging, little mess, right, little bird?" the man teasingly rambles behind you. his cock nudges against your g-spot, bullying the sensitive spot relentlessly. you swore you could see the pearly gates of heaven with the way he was fucking you.

"bet he doesn't touch ya here," one of his fingers dips between your legs, toying with your sensitive clit with harsh pinches and tugs. your body reacts instantly, back arching deeper as you slump against the edge of the bathroom's sink. "there we go, little bird. yer lovin' this, aren't ya? c'mon, pretty girl, lemme hear how much ya love this cock."

another high-pitched whine leaves your lips as he plunges faster in and out of you, every inch of his cock burying itself deeper and deeper inside you with each thrust. you're impossibly close to the edge, fragile mind teetering on the edges. you could feel the hot knot at the pit of your stomach grow, spreading across your body and encompassing every inch of you with its fiery wrath.

"f-fuckkk, feels s' good," you cry out when his fingers pinch your clit roughly, rolling the sensitive nub between his calloused fingers. "hittin' me s' deep, don't fuckin' stop, p-please... holy fuck! s' close, don't stop don't stop don't stop—"

the man chuckles behind you, "tell me yer boyfriend doesn't fuck ya this good. tell me who owns this pussy, little bird."

"you! shit, f-fuckkkk, you do, my pussy's all yours, " you ramble, his heavy balls smacking hard against your clit. "c-christ, n-never been f-fucked this goood— fillin' me up s' good, b-best dick i've everr had—"

with another harsh tug to your clit, you cum around his cock, pussy walls spasming and convulsing hard him. your orgasm almost brings you to your knees, breath caught in your throat as he pins you to the counter with his hips. with a few more thrusts, he cums in you with a rough grunt— hot ropes of cum sticking to every ridge of your cunt's walls as he spills every drop inside you.

"thatagirl," he leans down, his towering frame encompassing the entirety of your back as you remain bent over the sink. you're too sensitive to move, his cock still rock hard inside you. you tilt your head down, your forehead pressed to the chilling porcelain edge of the sink.

"can't let you go just yet," he breathes into your ear, planting a sloppy kiss on the side of your head. you hum in appreciation, barely able to open your eyes to meet his piercing gaze as you rest the side of your face against the sink. he's still sporting a shit-eating smirk, blown-out eyes dancing with a mixture of possession and lust. "g'na clean ya up and take ya back to my room. how’s that sound, little bird?"

by the time you got home the next morning, your skin was littered with purple and black splotches and inner thighs stained with the memories of the previous night. the man had disappeared at some point before you had woken up, leaving you to recollect your items and yourself before doing the walk of shame.

as you set your purse down on your coffee table, mindlessly kicking your heels off to the side and succumbing to the soft cusions of your couch, your boyfriend appeared behind you. with a smug smile and bright honey eyes, he cupped your jaw— guiding your head back to rest on the back of the couch, allowing you to meet his loving gaze before he littered kisses along your forehead, nose, and cheeks, whispering sweet words of love and endearment between kisses.

“you could’ve given me a ride home, si,” you giggled as simon pressed a few quick pecks to your lips, the warmth of your love for him spreading throughout your chest, squeezing at your heart. “or at least left me a change of clothes in the hotel room. was a bit embarrassed that i had to do the walk of shame after spendin’ the night with my own boyfriend.”

“yer the one who wanted to roleplay last night,” he reminded you, stroking the hinge of your jaw with the pad of his thumb. simon glanced at the hickies and bite mark bruises that decorated your neck and collar bone. “had t’ give the full experince, little bird. that’s what ya wanted, right?”

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gotta-get-back-to-hatchetfield · 6 months

Text

Help! I loved Nerdy Prudes Must Die and am curious about Nightmare Time but don't really have time to commit to watching it all... (a handy guide)

For those of you who don't know Nightmare Time was a series of Hatchetfield one shots that starkid wrote and recorded during lockdown, all of which are of course available for free on YouTube. They go a lot deeper into the lore than the 3 Hatchetfield musicals, including explaining and explore the characters we know and love in more detail, sometimes including shocking revelations.

They also introduce new characters to the Hatchetfield universe, including Stephanie Lauter, Grace Chasity and Pete Spankoffski, who we first met in a Nightmare Time episode.

As they were filmed in lockdown the recording quality is somewhat variable, but Season 2 has a much higher production value than Season 1, and in Season 1 Episode 1 in particular they were very clearly trying to find their feet with it. That being said the actual scripts and content of the episodes is solid throughout.

I've decided to put together this handy guide of which Nightmare Time episodes people might want to check out if they want to learn more about certain things we saw in NPMD.

1) Nibbly - Honey Queen (season 2 episode 1)

If you're curious to learn more about the Lords in Black each of them (bar Wiggly) have an episode of Nightmare Time devoted to them.

For Nibbly, Wiggly's hungriest and pinkest brother that episode is 'Honey Queen' in Season 2 Episode 1.

It explores a very entertaining rivalry between Linda Monroe (from Black Friday) and Zoey (the annoying barista from Beanie's in TGWDLM) that naturally turns very very dark. We also get to meet Linda's husband Gerald who she spends most of Black Friday on the phone to.

As a heads up Nibbly doesn't appear until, shall we say, the end of the episode (with Hatchetfield there's always a twist) and he's not in the super sexy form from NPMD but it's a very strong episode and does give a bit of background to Nibbly's deal.

2) Tinky - Time Bastard (season 1 episode 2 part 2)

If you're curious to learn more about this yellow motherfucker played by Curt then you're in luck because he's in my personal favourite episode and one with a lot of interesting lore surrounding it.

If you're curious about what he means when in NPMD he says 'I could add another Spankoffski to my set', Time Bastard is focused around Pete's brother Ted (from TGWDLM) and the dodgy dealings of CCRP.

It's an extremely clever episode, with lots of really fun twists. It's unfortunately season 1 so has slightly lower production quality, but in terms of raw scripting is just outstanding and has some really interesting reveals about people in the Hatchetfield universe who may not be who we think they are...

Also worth noting that this is in the same episode (Youtube video) as a different Nightmare Time episode 'Forever and Always'. Most episodes work like this where you have two different stories per episode, they absolutely can be watched independently but usually have some sort of thematic link (in this case it's the things we do for love and how they will inevitably be thwarted by CCRP being sketch).

3) Blinky - Watcher World (season 1 episode 1 part 2)

And if you're curious about the one who's always watching you, he's actually the first Lord in Black we meet through Nightmare Time, in the very first episode when Bill and Alice Woodward (TGWDLM) go on an ill fated trip to a spooky theme park.

Again this is from the first episode so production quality is low but it's a really solid episode and a very interesting look into these characters.

While this is our first meeting of a lord in black in Nightmare Time, I don't believe he's actually referred to as such, and the concept of the Lords in Blacks being introduced as Wiggly's brothers comes in at point 5 on this list.

4) Pokey - Yellow Jacket (season 2 episode 4)

You've already met Pokey through TGWDLM (yep that was his blue shit that destroyed the world!), but you won't truly realise how fucking scary he is until you meet his incarnation 'Otho' in Yellow Jacket.

A solid episode exploring Lex, Hannah and Ethan in a lot more detail, and in a world and lives where (at least at the start of the episode) things seem to be a lot more stable for them than in Black Friday.

And yeh as I've already mentioned Pokey is fucking s c a r y in it. Also you remember James Tolbert's character, Charles that gets a little cameo in Hatchetown? Well he's the main human antagonist of this episode!

We also learn a lot of lore about 'the gift', the thing that makes Hannah able to do magic.

5) The concept of the Lords in Black generally - The Witch in the Web (season 2 episode 3 part 2)

If you're curious about why everyone's been posting pictures of those evil teddy bears and now even more confused that you've met them all as fucked up high school students, the Witch in the Web is the episode where we're first introduced to the 'they don't care bears' as a set.

This is a really cool episode, again about Lex and Hannah, but it also exploring Uncle Wiley (from Black Friday) in a lot more detail.

We also first meet two characters called Duke and Miss Holloway who together form the ship Holloduke that if you were following any of Starkid tumblr during lockdown you will definitely have heard of. They're really cool!

Here we also meet Webby, Hannah's imaginary friend in Black Friday, who turns out to be the lord in black's sister: a queen in white. And she's dope.

6) Pete Spankoffski, Stephanie Lauter and Grace Chasity - Abstinence Camp (season 2 episode 2 part 2)

We first meet the now beloved characters of Pete and Steph and the slightly less beloved character of Grace in an evangelical abstinence only camp. The episode centers entirely around these characters and plays excellently with tropes of the horror genre.

It also has the best song in all of Nightmare Time and it's up to you to decide if I'm talking about 'oh my god it's the axe-man' or 'virginity rocks' (it's both, the answer is both).

That's pretty much it in terms of Nightmare Time episodes that cover things from NPMD, but in case you're curious here's a quick run down of what the rest are about:

The Hatchetfield Ape Man - season 1 episode 1 part 1. Hidgens makes Ted pretend to be a Tarzan style half monkey, half man thing to con Angela Giarratanna out of her inheretence.

Watcher World - season 1 episode 1 part 2. See bullet 3 above. Alice and Bill Woodward go to a theme park and shit hits the fan.

Forever and Always - season 2 episode 2 part 1. Paul and Emma get married. Things are not as they seem (there are robots). One of my personal favourites.

Time Bastard - season 2 episode 2 part 2. See bullet 2 above. Ted fucks with time travel and things end very badly for him. Best episode imo.

Jane's a Car - season 2 episode 3 part 1. Turns out the soul of Tom Houston's ex-wife Jane, who died in a car crash, transferred into the car. This somewhat complicates his budding relationship with Becky Barnes.

The Witch in the Web - season 2 episode 3 part 2. See bullet 5 above. Hannah Foster's having nightmares and somehow a witch and Uncle Wiley are involved. Luckily a good witch (Miss Holloway) is there to try and help.

Honey Queen - season 2 episode 1. See bullet 1 above. Linda Monroe and Zoey Chambers compete to win the Hatchetfield honey queen beauty pageant and things spiral wildly out of control. My personal favourite episode from season 2.

Perky's Buds - season 2 episode 2 part 1. Emma's finally achieved her dream of owning her own pot farm. Just her, her non-binary farm hand Ziggs and some very evil birds.

Abstinence Camp - season 2 episode 2 part 2. See bullet 6 above. Pete, Steph and Grace go to a retreat in the very creepy woods to learn one way or another about the perils of pre-marital sex.

Daddy - season 2 episode 3 part 1. Remember Sherman Young (Jamie's weird creepy guy from Black Friday)? Turns out there's something very weird going on with his mum. We also learn a lot about Frank Pricely (owner of toyzone from Black Friday) in this episode, who turns out to be a very interesting character.

Killer Track - season 2 episode 3 part 2. Miss Holloway must take extreme action to save a young girl and then the whole world against an evil song that kills anyone who listens to it. We learn a lot more about Holloway as a character and she is soooo cool. Another favourite episode of mine.

Yellow Jacket - season 2 episode 4. See bullet point 4. Hannah seeing her sister struggling to provide for them financially decides to find a way of using her power to earn some spare cash.

Hey Melissa - episode aired only on a livestream, type it into youtube and it'll come up. If you've ever found yourself asking 'what if Mariah's secretary character from the start of TGWDLM was really into dom pup play and Paul Matthews was her little pup bitch and she was also a horrific out of control serial killer?' then a) are you Matt Lang because if not I'm concerned? and b) by god this is the episode for you!. I personally really enjoy it I think it's super funny, but obviously heavy trigger warnings for abuse and sexual content warnings (there's a reason they didn't put this in the real series). Fucking excellent tho.

#starkid #npmd #nerdy prudes must die #the lords in black #tgwdlm #nightmare time #black friday #nmt

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