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kitten4sannie · 9 months

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𝔡𝔬𝔲𝔟𝔩𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔡

pairing: san x fem! reader x mingi

genre: smut

summary: minsan fuck you within an inch of your life <3

w.c: 2.4k

warnings: dom! minsan, sub! reader, san’s a meanie, mingi’s kinda a meanie but mainly a baby boy, himbo energy, threesome, somewhat heavy focus on mxm, spit roasting, spanking, face fucking, degradation, praise, name calling, kissing, facial, cum eating, snowballing, sloppy seconds, overstim, squirting, fingering, anal fingering (m receiving), masturbation, bulge kink, breeding kink, cum inflation (for a split second), creampies

a/n: this was a request i got by a lovely anon <3 the concept of getting absolutely ruined by minsan is so goddamn hot,, i got really lost in the sauce this time around and i’m proud to say that this is actually just unapologetic filth and nothing else so i hope you enjoy~~

Masterlist

“Hey, be a little more gentle with her, San. She’s gonna break before I get a turn,” Mingi whined with a pout, releasing the grip he had on your hair to reach across your body and run his fingers along the section of your ass that still sported San’s sizable handprint, forcing his cock further into your throat, beads of saliva and pre-cum dribbling down your bulging neck and onto the already stained sheets below.

Positioned on the opposite side of Mingi with his cock drilling into your needy hole, San rolled his eyes, slamming both hands against your ass, his fingers sinking into your stinging skin and spreading it open slightly to watch his slick cock continuously get swallowed up by your hole. “You love it, don’t you, pretty slut?”

A muffled, though enthusiastic ‘mm-hmm’ left your occupied mouth.

“See, look. She wants me to break her, Min.” San hunched forward over your body, reaching for your jaw and holding it steady as Mingi continued to thrust more than half of his over-sized length into the small opening of your throat, feeling his fingers begin to grow wet with your spit. You felt his warm breath on your back and could practically hear his shit-eating smirk, not knowing his eyes were still on Mingi, simply because he couldn’t bring himself to stop watching him wreck your throat. “Just look at her drooling all over herself like a brainless whore. She loves to get stuffed with cock, Min, that’s why we’re here,” San chimed, hoping he was educating his glossy-eyed, panting friend, giving him a crooked smile.

“You’re–shit–right, San,” Mingi huffed out, sweat dripping past his choppy dyed hair and off of his sharp jaw, as he hunched over your body as well and reached out, gripping both sides of your ass. He spread you open further so that San could slide in and out even easier, forcing your back to arch painfully from the way you were sandwiched between them.

San and Mingi found themselves in a similar position before, face to face, both balls-deep in a toy they preferred to share together, cocks throbbing away as they gazed at each other’s flushed, pleasure-struck faces, unable to ignore the presence of one another’s plush lips.

“Min, lemme taste you,” San mumbled, his hand moving from your jaw to your neck to clutch it, simply to feel the heaviness of his friend’s cock against his fingers as it slipped in and out of your throat. Your gurgled noises of approval and shiny, slicked-up cunt went unnoticed once San and Mingi’s lips collided, each getting a fair share of one another’s spit, their tongues eagerly licking into each other’s groaning mouths.

When Mingi was done exploring San’s open mouth, San took the lead and sucked his friend’s larger tongue into his own mouth, his flushed cheeks hallowing slightly. When he heard a whimper, San opened his eyes to witness Mingi’s big brown eyes looking right back at him. Swallowing their combined saliva down with a gulp, San let go of your throat to grab Mingi’s chin, one hand still cemented on your hip, making sure he didn’t miss a single beat when it came to drilling himself into your sopping wet hole. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you, MinMin? Huh? Are you gonna spill your load inside her tiny throat and make a big mess?” he asked in a patronizing tone, his ego growing in size when Mingi whimpered more and nodded his head quickly, a bit a drool falling from his lips. San’s dark eyes sharpened, the sides of his lips curling into a salacious smile. “Then fucking do it.”

“Okay, m’ gonna fill her fuckhole with my cum, Sannie,” Mingi exhaled delightedly, reaching down and gripping the sides of your head, suddenly pistoning his oversized length into your throat, making you gurgle and choke on it, tears spilling down your heated cheeks.

San nodded his head in agreement, wrapping his fingers around your waist so firmly, his nails left indents. “Yeah, you are. Fill her slutty little throat.” Feeling you clench tightly around him, San groaned gutturally, his eyes just about rolling into his skull, responding by jackhammering himself into your dripping cunt as quickly as he could, the sounds of your muffled cries almost louder than the lewd sound of his balls smacking against your slick skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re about to cum all over my cock just from being our own personal fuckdoll, huh?”

A strained, muffled sound of approval exited your throat, only able to take being pounded into from both sides once more, before the dam inside you broke. Your body shuddered and your limbs almost gave out underneath you, completely zoning out from the bliss until Mingi’s cockhead slapped down onto your cheek, hot spurts of white splattering out onto your face. This was followed by something hot and sticky painting your inner walls, some of it leaking out past San’s softening length. “Fuck,” was all you could choke out, your voice a bit scratchy and deep after the abuse your throat took.

San smiled to himself, gently rubbing your hips in soothing circles, his lower half still flush to yours. “I would pull out, but I couldn’t possibly pass up the opportunity to knock you up, baby.”

Turning your head back to look up at San, you licked at your lips, tasting the saltiness of Mingi’s load on your tongue. “Good.”

San beamed at your reaction, his cock starting to harden inside you, wanting to degrade you but choosing to focus on the cum that Mingi left dripping down your flushed face. “What a messy girl. You should clean yourself up.” He slid in and out of you a bit, just to feel and listen to the filthy squelching sounds, before slowly pulling out and sitting on the mattress.

Shuddering from the sensation of cum leaking out of you, you got up and sat back down on your knees, looking back and forth between the men, gathering up some of the lukewarm liquid on your face with two fingers. You began to suck and lick at them, moaning softly, beckoning the both of them closer once your other hand slipped in between your thighs to play with yourself.

Slipping his hand around your waist, Mingi leaned in, running his hot tongue up the side of your cheek, collecting some of the milkiness for himself. “You’re so naughty, baby,” he whispered against your ear, his other hand clasping around one of your tits to squeeze and knead it, licking along your jawline.

San was not far behind him, his mouth already attached to your neck to suck and lick at it, two of his thick fingers pushing into you and curling up to rub at your sensitive spot. The squeaking sound that escaped your lips made him smile against your skin, slowly kissing upwards until he got to your cheek, swiping his tiny tongue across your jaw to taste Mingi for himself. He grunted, looking over to his friend, still shoving his digits in and out of you, your juices accompanying the cum dripping down his wrist. “You need to drink more water, idiot.”

“Huh?” Mingi mumbled absentmindedly, staring dumbly at San, remembering to grab your other tit to knead it as well, pinching your nipple between two fingers. “Something wrong with my cum?”

“It tastes bad, you big dummy,” San hissed, removing his fingers from your cunt just as your pleasure began to crescendo, holding up his shiny, cum-coated fingers near all three of your faces. “Lick. This is what it’s supposed to taste like.”

You pouted along with Mingi, for different reasons, licking between San’s pointer and middle finger, Mingi’s tongue joining yours to lap up the dripping cum. Before you knew it, you were passing the remaining liquid into Mingi’s open mouth using your tongue, spreading your legs open wider when his hand left your chest to cup your pussy, his palm rubbing eagerly against your swollen clit.

San pushed his fingers in between the both of your moving mouths, his cock twitching painfully into his chiseled abdomen, barely able to take watching the both of your swap spit in such a fervent manner. Groaning, he grabbed Mingi’s shoulder and squeezed it, encouraging him to pull away and look at him with barely open eyes.

“What is it, San?” he asked softly, licking at any remnants of cum and saliva that was left on his lips.

“I need you to stuff her with your cock, Min.” He ran a hand through Mingi’s sweaty hair, smiling. “For me.”

Mingi smiled back at San, his cock pulsing against your thigh. “Anything for you, bro.”

Mingi had you in his lap on the edge of the bed, your back sticking against his heated bare chest, his large hands squeezing into your open thighs, his cock hitting your sweet spot relentlessly, so much so that your cum sprayed out of your pulsing cunt. It felt so goddamn good you were convinced that the stimulation was going to break your mind. It didn’t help that San was on his knees in between Mingi’s thighs, his fingers cupping his friend’s swollen balls and his mouth open to catch your squirt on his small pink tongue, his face soaked with your release.

“That’s a good girl, do it again,” San praised, bringing his fingers up to rub them rapidly across your clit, pressing them harder into your bud when your hips tried to move away from his touch, not stopping until more clear liquid shot out of you and coated his already dripping tongue. “Fuck, that’s a good slut.”

“No more,” you croaked out, your lower half so numb, you’d probably fold like a rag doll if Mingi wasn’t holding you in place. “I-i can’t!”

“You can take it, sweetheart,” Mingi encouraged breathily, his deep voice penetrating your ears along with his heavy pants, sending a jolt of arousal into your core. He suddenly shuddered, emitting a surprisingly whiny moan upon feeling San’s tongue drag up his perineum to his sensitive balls, encouraging him to buck up into you to chase his high.

San ran his palms up Mingi’s large thighs, squeezing into them the way Mingi was gripping yours, his thumbs teasing his friend’s puckering hole. Smirking at the sound of Mingi’s soft whimpering, San slipped a finger inside, feeling Mingi slowly begin to grind against it on his own.

Mingi’s jaw hung open, too consumed with lust to notice another finger sliding into him until he felt a sudden, powerful crackle of pleasure erupt from within his core. “Oh, fuck, that’s it, right there, right there,” Mingi groaned, almost growling his words out, digging his fingers into your bruising skin and slamming himself into you even rapidly than before, sending you into a state of euphoria.

San stroked himself vigorously, the muscles in his upper and lower arms straining so hard the veins bulged out, a bit of sweat sliding along his smirking face. “Oh, yeah? Does it feel that good, Min? Are you gonna cum in our plaything’s tight little cunt again?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah–” Mingi could hardly speak, his body and mind completely overloaded with pleasure, to the point that tears began to form inside his hazy eyes, so close that he couldn’t possibly control the whines and whimpers that were joining your own, the both of your bodies unconsciously moving in tandem so that you could reach your highs together.

San took delight in the visual of his friend and fucktoy completely falling apart in front of him, his fist squeezing around his cockhead, pre-cum spilling out, the slick allowing him to pleasure himself as fast as possible.“Fuck–Pump…her full…nnngh…of your cum, Min. Please, just make her nice and full for me,” San practically begged, so close to his own high that he didn’t care how desperate he sounded.

“Cumming, I’m cumminggg,” Mingi moaned whinily, slack jawed, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, letting go of one of your thighs to press his hand down against your lower abdomen, feeling the outline of his cock, swearing he felt your tummy bulge out ever so slightly the longer he drained his seemingly endless cumshot into your cunt.

You couldn’t even begin to form words, your orgasm doing the talking for you, letting out a few small, stunted moans, your entire body seizing up, spilling your release all over Mingi’s lap. You were so gone, you hardly noticed San suddenly standing up in front of the both of you, whispering something dirty and slapping his cock down onto your used pussy, his load spurting out and coating your mound, mixing with Mingi’s load, as it was already seeping out of you and down your ass.

“Pull out now, Min,” San commanded softly, watching Mingi slowly slide his cock out with a small squelch, lowering himself back down to the floor to get a close up view of the absolute mess that was pouring out of your used hole, his thumbs spreading you apart. You were stretched wide and filled up with so much cum, San was ready to shed a tear from such a beautiful sight. A moment of silence, mixed with quiet pants and sighs went by, before San came up with a brilliant plan. “Should we stuff her hole together?”

Wiping some sweat away from his forehead, Mingi tilted his head to the side, perking up, as though he were intrigued. “Like cock to cock?”

San licked at his lips, tasting you on them. “Yup.”

Mingi mirrored him, licking at his plush lips as well, eventually sighing to himself. “Double stuffed…”

San nodded, chuckling. “That’s right.”

Once he exchanged a sleazy look with his friend, Mingi slowly looked down at you, his gaze darkening.

“Yummy.”

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#cultofdionysusnet #ateez #ateez smut #san #ateez san #san smut #san x reader #ateez x reader #mingi #mingi ateez #mingi smut #mingi x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #kpop smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez oneshot

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forsworned · 11 days

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IT'S (NOT) JUST SEX ft. SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY

Warning(s): Sexual Content, AFAB!reader, (Sorta) Daddy Issues, Half&Half Proofread idk

Author's note: Guess I'm drowning in Simon right now, I just have so many ideas for him and honestly this is not original but fuck it I think it's cute mwah

"It's just sex."

But he's literally paying attention to every staccato of your moans, as he angles his hips perfectly to hit your sweet spot every fucking time. The way you arch your back, and your whimpers are elongating with every stroke, adding just the right amount of pressure to have you cumming all over his dick. And he doesn't even care if he's finishing anymore, as long as you're getting yours he's more than satisfied enough. And he's definitely not flipping you over on your back every time without fail just to see your pretty "o" face.

"It's just sex."

But he's waking up before you with your coffee exactly the way you like it, down to the milk preference, brand and roast. Your eggs perfectly fried, and a tender kiss to your temple asking you,

"How'd ya sleep, love?"

"It's just sex."

But he's always fixing your hair when it's out of place, the collar of your shirt when it's tucked in incorrectly and making sure he's holding your hand when you're crossing the street together.

"It's just sex."

But he's talking you down over the phone when you get into a catastrophic argument with your dad and moments later he's showing up at your door with your favorite snacks and beverages. His arms are enveloping you in the most snug bear hug, kissing your temple and rubbing your back while you cry it out. And then you're watching reruns of your favorite tv show and until you're passed out in his arms.

"It's just sex."

But he's letting you in. You're seeing all the sides of him that he never shows to anyone else. The scars under his mask, the way his lips curve up into a smile when you're doing you're little dance to oldies on the radio, and the genuine, hearty chuckle that effortlessly escapes his now loosened sternum.

"It's just sex."

But then you're under the steamy water coming out of his showerhead, as he sings in his off-key baritone while he suds up his loofa to clean you up after he fucked your brains out on his loveseat. Memorizing every mole, stretchmark, and crease in your skin as he's exfoliating your pretty skin.

But,

It's not just sex.

Because he's sitting there on the sofa, wondering how the fuck he ended up with the prettiest, vintage engagement ring you pointed out when you two were antiquing (antiquing? he doesn't bloody go antiquing) between his stout, scarred fingers, glittering in the moonlight and all.

"Si?"

He turns from the ring to the most stunning woman that's ever graced his miserable presence, leaning against the doorframe with his shirt hanging loosely over her thighs, hair disheveled in the cutest way humanly possible. Her playful smile etching into her dulcet features as she sucks in her bottom lip. Oh yeah, she's a fuckin' stunner.

"Are you coming back to bed?"

His eyes visibly softening as he drinks you in.

"Ya, dovie, I'll be right there." He murmurs, licking his dry lips, and you're already padding back to his room, making sure you sway your hips provocatively. That causes his lips to kick up into a genuine smile and a chuckle to escape his chest. And then he's up, carefully putting away the precious metal in a false bottom drawer under the utensils, and then he's jovially treading back to you. Face first into the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet, natural musk. He could bathe in this shit.

Fingers carding through his hair and he's oblivious to the knowing smirk on your sly face. That fucker thinks he's so slick.

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peachesofteal · 5 months

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Light on -single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt(s): fire alarm, reader backstory, reader cooks for Simon, requested by multiple.

The chair at your kitchen table is small.

It’s so small, he’s half afraid he might break it, the rickety wood creaking under his weight, and he shifts, leaning back to test its ability, hoping it won’t give way on him. The wood makes a louder groaning sound, and your voice carries from the hall, half of a jest in your tone.

“Are you trying to break my furniture?” Shit.

“No.” He shoots to his feet, patting the little wooden chair like he’s trying to comfort it, embarrassed that he’d been caught. “Jus’ trying to test it, make sure it’s not gonna collapse on me.”

You have an eyebrow raised, returning from your bedroom with a pajama clad Emmaline, little red onesie dotted with deer, your hand patting her back firmly and bouncing her in your arms at the same time, her little brow furrowed like she’s irritated with you.

“It’s fine. I’m just kidding.” You look down at her and sigh. “Are you going to let me put you down so I can finish dinner?”

“I can take her.” He offers, and you flash him a relieved smile.

“Hear that?” You hum in her ear, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “Your favorite person wants to hang out with you.” His stomach clenches.

“Come here baby girl. Let’s let mum have a break, yeah?” He reaches, and you bend down to place her in his arms, the smell of your skin, your hair, the scent of your laundry detergent flooding his senses. Emmaline is so small in his hands, but he’s growing more comfortable holding her, and when she settles against him easily, he can’t help the warmth that flares in his heart, overflowing through his body with pride, and… something else. Something strong. Something he thinks he knows the name of, but is too afraid to voice. Something that has him dreaming about giving you his last name, giving it to Emmaline too, tacking Riley onto the end of both you, as a stamp, a seal, a promise.

“She still needs to burp.” You tell him softly, pulling the cloth from your shoulder and arranging it onto his, fingers lingering when you smooth it out. “Do you know-“

“Yeah.” He assures, swiftly, and you smile again, hand brushing against his when you give her on last little pat on her back.

“Okay. I’ll work on dinner then.”

“You ah- don’t have to keep feeding me.” He tells you, even though the full plate of pot roast with stewed carrots, potatoes, and gravy makes his mouth water, massive portion settled in front of him like you’re trying to make sure he’s never hungry again.

What a good girl, he muses indulgently. Good little mum. Good little wife. Emmaline coos in his arms, still awake, settled on his knee with her back to his stomach, one hand firm around her tummy. He bounces her, one hand with a fork stabbing into a carrot, the other holding her steady. Safely.

“I can take her, if you want to-“

“No. You sit.” He inclines his head, and you blink, before automatically folding into the chair diagonal from him with your own plate. The room is quiet, fork chiming against china, until you speak again.

“I don’t mind it.” You swallow, taking a long sip of water. “Cooking. For you.” You whisper it to your plate, like it’s a secret, like you’re ashamed, and he tamps down the urge to reach for you. “You do so much for us, you’ve- I don’t know how to repay you.” You’re mine now, sweetheart. You don’t have to repay me. It’s my job to take care of you. Take care of you both. It almost all comes out of his mouth, but instead he changes hands on the baby, putting his fork down and extending the one closest to you, palm open on the table, a gentle entreaty.

“I don’t mind, helping. Someone’s gotta take care of you girls.” Your eyes go wide, lips parting, before you’re collecting yourself, looking down into your lap with a stunned little smile. “Sweetheart, I-“

The words are robbed from him, stolen by a screeching, blaring noise in the hallway, a high-pitched alarm that has him out of the chair, shoving the table with one hand and positioning himself between the door and you, curled over Emmaline who’s now crying, startled.

“Fire alarm.” You wince, but when he doesn’t relax, your expression goes waxy, soothing, and your hand finds the inside of his elbow. “It’s just a fire alarm, Simon. People fuck with the pull station now and then. Probably nothing.” It takes a second, a second too long for his brain to catch up, and when it does, he blanches, looking you over for fear, repulsion, of him. Distaste of the secondhand reaction that he just cannot control.

He doesn’t find it. Only blithe acceptance. Understanding. He clears his throat. “Let’s get outside then.”

It’s cold outside. Winter is in full swing, and he’s happy he forced you into your winter jacket when did, amid your distraction, too pre-occupied with wrestling a screaming Emmaline into her coat and hat, swaddling her up in a fluffy blanket before you even stopped to think about yourself.

“It won’t be long.” You tell him, alternating between trying to soothe the baby’s frantic tears, and looking around anxiously. “Station seventy-four is just a few blocks north.” Station seventy-four? “Look, see?” You point, cooing at Emma, red emergency lights flashing down the street. You stray closer to him, pressing into his side, and he puts his arm around you, squeezing your shoulder. You’re… nervous, and he’s not sure why. The fire alarm didn’t seem to rattle you too much but now, you’re chewing on your lip, eyes scanning across the people milling about outside.

“You alright?” He murmurs, and you nod.

“Just cold.” You reply through clenched teeth.

It doesn’t take long for the fire service to get the building sorted, and once they give the all clear, you break from his side, beelining towards the front of the building. He’s about to jog after you, surprised at the pace that you've managed to make, when he hears someone calling your name. Practically yelling it, and he pulls up short.

It's a firefighter. He approaches you with an open palm, like he's trying to corner a wounded animal, and your face pinches at the corners, hand cradling the back of Emmaline's head. Simon inches closer, getting within ear shot, using the dark and the people still scattered about to sink into shadow, becoming Ghost, silent, unnoticed, and lethal. Nearly unseen.

"-are you?" The firefighter asks, staring at the baby in your arms with wide eyes.

"I'm fine. We're fine." You reply stiffly, looking away with a grim, haunted expression.

"You never come down to the station... we'd- we'd love to see you both. Or if you ever needed anything, we're here for you. We-"

"Thanks." you cut him off, trying to turn away, but he steps after you, protesting.

"I know it doesn't-"

"Officer." An older man interrupts, sharply, and the younger firefighter straightens.

"Captain."

"You're needed for system reset." He instructs, and the officer takes one last look at you, something conflicted in his face, before nodding and stepping away. "He's not wrong." The Captain tells you gently, and you shake your head.

"We don't need anything from you."

"You need community. Support. The station is a family, we look after our own."

"I'm not your own." You snap. "He was! He was your own. And how well did you look after him, Captain?" The words are vicious, pointed like arrows, seeking to maim, to hurt, and the look on your face is so anguished, so tormented, that Simon can't stand to see it for one more second.

"Everything alright?" He steps between you and the Captain, positioning his body so that you're half hidden, and your shoulders immediately slump, tension draining from you when you look up into his face.

"Yeah, let's go inside. It's too cold out." You tell him, and he nods, casting a glance over his shoulder at the frowning man, letting his hand slide over your shoulder and down your spine, directing you inside and keeping you close.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks again once you're in the hallway outside your door, and you turn into him, close enough that he can lean his nose down to skim through your hair.

"I'm okay." You whisper, fingers finding his at his hip. "We're okay."

#peaches writes #light on #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley

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keeksandgigz · 3 months

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somewhere we can be alone

stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!fem!reader

a collab with @reidsbtch- mariah is literally the best person to collab with, it's like our brains were making out the whole time we were writing this. thank u for letting me collab with you to write this absolutely not self indulgent, way too long fic together <3

summary: Now on the tail end of graduating, Eddie Munson is required to take part in an extracurricular activity. He's assigned as stage manager for the school's production of Romeo and Juliet. You, the star of the show, aren't too happy to have your senior performance sabotaged by one long- haired metalhead.

word count: 7.7k words

warnings: no y/n, no physical description of reader, swearing, oral (m & f receiving), enemies to fuck buddies to lovers, mentions of queer!reader, it's actually just fucking smut, fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up), cream pie, use of nicknames (baby, sweets, sweetheart etc), eddie being a stupid lovable idiot

This and all of mine and mariah's works are 18+ minors do NOT interact

He’s been slumped in the guidance counselor’s office for thirty minutes, the wooden chair digging into his bones, growing uncomfortable as he listens to her, hardly believing he’s so close to leaving this fucking school himself.

“You’re keeping up your grades and maintaining regular attendance, Eddie. You’re just missing one last thing to be able to graduate.”

He rubs his face, maybe from the lack of sleep, or the restlessness of finally being able to leave the office he spent way too much time in during the past six years, as long as he keeps showing up to school for the next two months. He groans regardless.

“What would this ‘last thing’ be? Am I gonna be sent on a quest to slay a fucking dragon? Is that what’s gonna take me to graduate?” He snaps, the lack of sleep has finally gotten to him– school doesn’t really appeal to his late bird nature.

The counselor gasps at the crudeness of the profanity “Language!” She exclaims, like he’s never heard that before, daring to swear in front of students, staff and faculty alike, but the blonde lady with the ridiculously coiffed and teased and sprayed hair composes herself again, jutting a look down to his student folder again.

He imagines it to be full of red pen marks, every single one of those a proof of his own failure. He’ll steal it the day he graduates– and set it on fire. Hell, he’ll even roast marshmallows on it.

“Anyways,” she explains in a way that really shows the massive stick up her ass that makes her think Eddie should just stop bothering with school altogether. “You have to partake in an extracurricular activity.”

And he chortles. He was thinking something dreadful like picking trash up at the park or feeding and bathing the old people at the retirement home.

“Something funny, Mr. Munson?” Her nostrils are flared, she can’t wait ‘til he leaves her office.

“So like- like drama club and shit?” His tone is incredulous, he can deal with a couple lines to memorize. He’s had to do way worse for his Dungeon Master role, and even then, Miss George likes him– she’s let him and the club play DnD in her room for the past two years. Should be easy.

The counselor takes her glasses off her pointy nose, letting them hang with a tacky pink, flowery chain around her neck. “Well, yes– that’s one of the options. Unfortunately, your GPA is not high enough for you to partake in the school play, per se, so I can only place you in the backstage crew– building sets and moving things around. We’ll put that brain of yours to work.” She chuckles as she hands him a slip of paper to give to Miss George.

Eddie picks up his bag, “Real funny, huh.” He shrugs his shoulders and heads to the school auditorium. Last time he was there he’d gotten caught by a custodian while Terry Richardson’s face was stuck in between his legs, trousers pulled down halfway down his thighs as she gave him a toothy blowjob. He got suspended for a week.

He sees Miss George sat in the audience, scribbling notes onto a notepad as you recite the famous balcony monologue from Romeo and Juliet. He knows you, he’s seen you around– you’re by no means in the popular crowd, but you stand out, in the way that your clothes always seem to border the fine line of what's socially acceptable and outrageously eccentric.

Even if you’re not part of the popular crowd, there’s no denying that, like the rest of the school, you avoid him like the plague, cute as he is. You interrupt your monologue as you see him smirk down the central aisle of chairs. Miss George turns around at the sudden interruption. Eddie just hands her the slip.

“Oh my goodness!” she coos, “We have a stage manager.” And he wishes he could have photographed the look on your face. “Stage manager?! Miss George, you can’t be serious!” You exclaim as Eddie takes a seat next to her, kicking his boots up on the back of the chair in front of him.

A smirk ever present on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at you. “He doesn’t have any experience.” You continue, not about to have your senior year performance ruined by Eddie Munson of all people. “Shouldn't be that hard to keep a diva like yourself in line, hmm?”

Eddie answers before Miss George has a chance to, the theater now going quiet except for a few snickers from the tech crew. “Alright, that’s enough from the both of you. Eddie, I’ll have our ASM get you up to speed. Now, please continue with the monologue.” The male only grins wider as you glare back, before looking back down at your script with a sigh.

He ventures backstage– not sure what ASM stands for and maybe too embarrassed to ask as he sees kids dressed in black moving wooden planks onto the stage, carrying cans of paints and brushes.

He taps a kid on his shoulder, arranging a prop table, he looks at Eddie like he’s seen a ghost.

“I was looking for the ASM?” The kid is looking side to side, still wondering why Eddie Munson is talking to him.

“Uhhh, she’s in the booth.” He mutters, before turning around and going back to his props. What the fuck is a booth?

Eddie just plainly decides to look for it himself, since nobody’s any fucking help in this school. He opens door after door- a storage closet, a closet just for wood, a bathroom. Arrived at the last door, he isn’t exactly sure he’s ever going to find this stupid ASM- and he still doesn’t know what that stands for.

The noise of a door opening startles you, as you try to put on your dress as quickly as you can to avoid flashing someone. It’s only when you see who it is that you start screaming, and with you, Eddie just pops a hand in front of his eyes, screaming a string of sorries, and that he hasn’t seen anything.

“I was just looking for the booth! Stop screaming!” he screeches, worried he’s gonna get himself in trouble with Miss George if she hears you screaming like you’re getting skinned alive. Thankfully, you stop, as Eddie looks away, aware of your exposed back peeking through the zipper. You clutch the fabric against you, struggling to zip up the back of your dress one-handed.

Eddie makes a whistling sound, distracting himself from the way you seem to be teetering between asking for his help and telling him to fuck off.

“The door to the booth is in the audience, by the way. Off to the side, there’s some stairs.” You huff, slightly getting your zipper up. He goes to turn around, but you stop him. He cocks an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes, lips in a thin line as you keep the door open with one hand.

“Can you make yourself useful and help me with my zipper?”

With an annoyed huff he steps fully into the dressing room, shutting the door behind him as you turn your back towards him once more. Carefully clutching the dress, your eyes meeting his in the long row of vanity mirrors in front of you. You can feel his warm breath on your neck as he steps closer, carefully lifting your hair over your shoulder.

Eddie’s fingers follow the seam of the unzipped garment, barely tracing the bare skin of your back. You try to hold off the shiver from passing through you as he slowly begins zipping it up. A hint of a smirk on his mouth as he notices the goosebumps breaking out across your skin. “Anything else princess? Or am I free to go?”

His fingers now fall away from you, clearing your throat as you try to shake off the arousal that was now coursing through your veins. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing how frazzled he had just made you.

Instead of answering, you just groan, eyes lifted up, going past him and clocking him in the shoulder as you headed back on stage. God you were fucking insufferable.

Eddie finds out that ASM means Assistant Stage Manager and that said ASM was none other than Max Mayfield, roped into doing theatre tech for extra credit. And that the booth was where they tampered with the lights and shit. All he had to do as Stage Manager for that rehearsal was oversee the light cues, which proved to be a little more complicated than he initially expected.

He messes up most of the cues in the first act before he finally seems to have gotten a grasp of it. All the while you’re tossing glares his way, using the light cues as an excuse for the harsh looks. But really it’s due to your annoyance at how the mere brush of his fingertips left you wanting more. Wanting more of him, despite your better judgment– you were not about to have him ruin your senior show.

And in spite of that, you closely follow Eddie’s actions. In a lull between scenes he stands up, you follow him with your eyes as he enters back into the auditorium, beelining backstage.

Eddie’s not totally sure what shit designer built the theatre, because he might as well have pissed himself on the way between the booth and the only bathroom in the auditorium. Not only that, but he kept missing cue after cue, followed by the dirtiest looks known to man, straight into his eyes. After the encounter you had in the dressing room– fingers caressing the soft skin of your back, feeling you shiver under his touch, he knew he had some kind of leverage over you.

So when he’s done taking a leak and looks down at the door, he’s sure you’re behind it, slipping a little piece of paper in the crack.

Meet me in the booth after rehearsal. XX

Eddie wouldn’t say he was nervous, his curiosity was piqued more than anything. However, he’s antsy the last half of the show, leg bouncing as he tries to listen and follow Max’s instructions. The girl gives him an annoyed lecture in between cues. But his mind’s a little preoccupied, trying to figure out what exactly you want from him.

So when he re-enters the dark light booth once everyone else has left, he doesn’t expect you to shove him up against the door, locking it with a swift click. His breath hitches in his throat, both in confusion, and at the fact that you’re fumbling with his belt, despite the dirty looks you’ve been giving him the whole afternoon.

“What uh- what are you doing?” His tone is alarmed, stammering as he tries to grab onto the door handle for purchase. You’re too busy getting his jeans down to bother.

“Sucking you off. That okay?” You look at him for a reassurance that comes almost immediately with a violent nod of his head.

He’s confused, but he’s not going to turn you down. After all, he felt the way you tensed under his touch while he was pulling up your zipper, “Shit, fine by me.” He shrugs, acting like he isn’t busting at the seams waiting for you to pull down his pants.

Eddie’s belt makes a clinking sound, along with his wallet chain while you pull his pants down to his thighs. You move his trembling body away from the door, against the table with the light console. His knuckles turn white as he grabs the edges on the table for support.

Gripping the hem of his checkered boxers, freeing his hardened length. Your eyes widening slightly at the sight of it, he’s big— a lot bigger than you expected. Even in the dim lighting he notices your shocked expression.

“Ya gonna just stare at it all night sweetheart?” He asks, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looks down at you. You shoot another glare his way, before grasping the base of his cock in your fist, licking a long stripe up the shaft. Feeling satisfied as you hear his shaky intake of breath. Eagerly you take him past your lips, as a low groan leaves his own.

“Shit,” he curses as your warm mouth envelops him fully, ringed fingers knotting themselves in your hair. You open your mouth as wide as you can, taking him deeper. Gagging slightly as he hits the back of your throat, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as you try to adjust to his size. He’s by far the biggest one you’ve had.

“Talked such a big game with that mouth of yours sweetness, am I too much for you?” Your fingers dig into the skin of his thighs, his cock slipping from your lips as you pull back.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up Munson?” You huff, but before he can reply with another snarky remark your tongue is swirling around the tip of his cock. Silencing him for a moment as you take him back into your mouth.

Another string of curses falls from his lips, as his hips begin thrusting into your mouth with an abandon you haven’t seen before. Your cheeks are hollowed and he can feel himself getting embarrassingly close.

“F-fuck where- where’d you learn all of this?” It comes out in broken pants, and he can feel a smirk forming on your lips as you take him out a second time.

“One thing about theatre people is that we’re all gonna fuck each other. You should see how I eat pussy,” you shrug, putting him back in your mouth, and Eddie swears he’s about to bust in less than a minute.

“I’m gonna- fuck.” But he doesn’t get to finish that sentence, as you take him out of your mouth and stand back up.

Eddie’s bewildered expression is easy to read as he looks at you like you shot his dog. But you get close, dangerously close to his lips, your nose almost bumping his.

“That’s for fucking up my light cue, idiot,” it’s a feeble whisper against his lips before you’re gone into the darkness of the theatre. Too shocked to react, Eddie’s left with his pants pulled down for a good two minutes before registering what happened.

So he’s left blue balled in that stupid light booth, fuming and confused. There was no way in hell he would let you treat him like that and walk away the way you did.

Eddie had been scheming all week between rehearsals, attempting to find a good time to get you alone. He wasn’t about to let you get away with leaving him like that, but you were actively avoiding him.

But an opportunity fell into his lap without any effort on his part, Miss George asking you to stay behind to work on some blocking with her. As the stage manager he was required to stay behind too, his mind already reeling with possibilities.

So when you duck behind the curtain to change out of your costume, Eddie is quick to swoop in. Offering to shut down the lights and lock up, and Miss George is more than willing to let him.

By the time you get back on stage the theater is dark, the ghost light shining brightly center stage. “Eddie? Miss George?” You call out into the darkness, getting complete silence in return.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” You groan, clutching the strap of your book bag tightly. Of course he’d leave you in the dark theater to fend for yourself. “Asshole.” You mumble under your breath, reaching your hand out in front of you as you make your way across the dark stage.

You’ve bumped into multiple set pieces at this point, as you attempted to find the stairs leading down to the audience in complete darkness. Your frustration grows with each passing minute, that is until you hear the shuffling of feet.

“Hello?” You call out again, squinting as if it would help you see any better. Fear stirs in your gut as the theater is silent once more, shadows seeming to come to life in the corner of your eyes.

Once you finally reach the edge of the stage, you grip onto the railing tightly as you fumble your way down the stairs. Sighing in relief as you feel the carpet beneath your feet.

You only make it a few steps further before you feel a hand snaking around your waist, pulling you back into a hard chest. The other hand cupping itself over your mouth to muffle the scream that leaves your lips.

“Screaming for me already sweets? Haven’t even touched you yet.” His voice is mocking, his warm breath fanning across your neck as he laughs. You quickly squirm out of his grasp, a flashlight clicking on to illuminate his stupidly gorgeous features.

“You fucking psychopath! What were you thinking?” you shove him on the shoulder, he laughs as he zeroes in the flashlight on you, red in the face and furious.

“Had to get back at you for how much of a little tease you were the other day,” he croons. You purse your lips together, a deep blush spreading across your cheeks as you try to stabilize your still quickly beating heart.

“Whatever. Fuck you, Eddie.” You spit, but he’s quick to grab your arm and push it behind your back, the flashlight hitting the ground and rolling under one of the seats. His chest is pressed against your shoulder blades as you shudder in his arms.

“You’re not getting away so easily, sweetness.” He breathes against your earlobe as you keen into the warmth of his chest, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as his free hand goes to your waist.

“This okay?” he murmurs, and you nod. A sharp nip to your earlobe makes you hiss.

“I can’t fucking see you nod, can I?” You can tell he’s having too much fun torturing you, feeling his hand travel all across your torso and chest.

“N-No,” you whimper.

“Exactly. Try that again,” his hand rests against the waistband of your jeans, awaiting an answer, teasing the skin behind the fabric. The tips of his fingers brush the skin there, making you whimper in response.

“This is okay.” you breathe out, and it’s the only answer he needs to slip his hand past your jeans, unbuttoning the offending material to push his hand further down into your pants.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers against your ear as his hand cups your clothed core. You waste no time grinding against the heel of his palm, letting small, breathy moans escape you. Afraid to get caught in the dead of night getting touched and fondled by the town pariah.

“You sound so pretty singing for me, don’t you sweets?” he whispers smugly. His hand feels a little too good against you, your hips grinding back and forth following the rhythm he was creating, “Hmm, but I think you can be a little louder.”

You gasp as he slips his hand inside your panties, his calloused fingers encircling your swollen clit. Your head falls back onto his shoulder, your hand gripping onto his thigh. His digits dip lower, teasing your entrance before slipping one inside and curling them up.

You can’t stop the shaky cry from leaving your lips, the sound now filling the auditorium. A smirk tugs at his mouth, using the heel of his palm to press against your clit. “Listen to that… you’ve got such a pretty voice don’t you?”

You dig your nails into the denim covering his thigh, a low groan sounding in his throat. “Wonder what it sounds like when you beg,” he easily adds another finger inside your wet cunt, thrusting them deeper. “N-Never gonna happen Munson.”

Eddie laughs, pulling another moan from you as his other hand drifts up under your shirt to cup your breast. “We’ll see about that.”

His breath is fanning hot and humid against your neck as you reach around to bring his head closer, needing him to be closer.

Nothing he’s saying is registering in your brain, as his fingers pump in and out of you with a torturous pace, feeling his wolfish grin plastered against the skin of your cheek.

He’s watching your every move, your every breath and whimper, biting his lip at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head every time his fingers curl up in a certain manner. You don’t think you have much time left before you release yourself all over his hand, and he knows it.

From the way you keep twitching and tightening around his fingers, he feels you’re getting close, but much like you did that night in the booth, he won’t let you get it that easily.

“Y’close sweets?” he groans, his own hips now grinding against the swell of your ass.

“Uh-huh,” is all you can manage to say, brain scrambled from his words and ministrations.

“You know what you gotta do now, don’t you, pretty?” he bites at the hinge of your jaw, as you cry out, the noise echoing in the empty theatre.

“You gotta beg for it.” And he hears you gasp at that, a dry chuckle leaves his lips. “You didn’t think I was gonna make you cum that easy did you?”

“Mmm- fuck you, Munson.” you struggle against your brain’s desire to one up him and your body’s desire for release.

“C’mon, don’t you want to cum? I bet you’re so pent up from a whole day of staring at me building sets, aren’t you?” and he’s right, your eyes did wander to his arms in his tight fitting t-shirt, with his hair tied up in a low bun as he hammered nails into wooden boards.

His fingers speed up and you can feel it, you’re so, so close.

“Please, let me,” you whine into his arm, biting at the muscle there. You’re getting so loud.

“That’s right, keep begging for me– good girl gettin’ nice and loud for me,” it’s a growl at this point, a string of please please please follow it. Tears pricking at your eyes with how intensely good he’s making you feel.

So close, so close–

He removes his fingers, jerking you out of that hazy state you were previously in. The male now removes himself from you, retrieving the flashlight from under the seat. Your chest is heaving as you turn to face him, anger now coursing through you as he grins devilishly down at you.

“How cute, you thought I was actually gonna let you cum with how you left me the other day?” Eddie’s laughter fills the theater as he steps closer to you. Your bodies almost touching, lifting his fingers that were just inside you up to your lips.

The brunette carefully drummed the digits against your mouth, “Now, be a good girl and clean up the mess you made.” You glare as you let his fingers slip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them in a teasing manner.

You noticed how his breath hitches, his cock straining uncomfortably in his jeans. But there’s no way that you’re helping him out with his little problem now. You playfully bite his fingers that are still in your mouth, as he utters an annoyed ‘ouch’ before taking them back out.

His fingers make their way to your scalp– yanking at the hair, making you hiss. “You think you’re fucking cute? I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal,” his tone makes you tremble, as he takes his hand out of your hair and disappears into the darkness of the theatre, leaving you once again in the dark.

You stumble down the side stairs of the stage and get out of the side door, quickly making your way home.

And it becomes a regular thing, you and Eddie blue balling each other to the point of frustration, like it’s a sick and twisted power game you both play. After rehearsal he offers to lock up for Miss George and you wait for him in one of the dressing rooms, or in the dimly lit booth. He’s become irritable, and you have as well.

If you were insufferable before, now you’re downright hateful as you yell at the light crew to stop messing up your spotlight moment, or that your costume felt too constricting or your prop too flimsy.

Everything has you on edge, but you don’t hesitate to meet Eddie every night that week after rehearsal. Maybe he’ll let you cum this time.

You wait for him backstage, sitting on one of the set pieces, a throne. There’s a dim overhead light shining on you. Eddie’s lip is caught between his teeth as he looks at you on his Dungeon Master throne.

“Get up.” he commands. The shirt he’s wearing is tight, it makes his shoulders look more prominent. You squeeze your legs together.

“Why should I? My legs are tired from being on my feet all rehearsal,” you give him a fake pout as he inches towards you.

“Because that’s my Dungeon Master throne,” it sounds funny coming out of his mouth, voice low and gravelly “It’s mine.”

You chuckle a bit at that, how is this man being territorial over a set piece?

“And what if I said no?” a smile trapped in between your teeth, looking up at him through your lashes.

A dry laugh escapes him as he crosses his arms, “You’re so spoiled huh? Think you can always get your way? Last time I checked, this week it’s been the total opposite, hasn’t it?” and he’s not wrong, he’s given you all but what you want.

“This is my theatre, Munson. I believe you’re on my turf.” and he laughs at that, like you’ve said some kind of joke.

“You do theatre, sweetheart, c’mon you can’t be serious.” he kneels in front of you, grabbing your thighs and moving them apart with ease.

“Don’t be a bitch, Munson.” you hiss, as you feel his lips on your exposed thighs, kissing the skin there.

He whistles, low and sardonic. A wicked smile on his lips “That’s rich coming from you, you’ve had that nasty little attitude this whole week.” he continues with his kisses, while his hand ghosts over your inner thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat.

“I wouldn’t have this nasty little attitude as you call it if you would just let me- fuck.” his free hand ghosts over your panties. Your skin is sensitive, your brain is sensitive. Another touch and you might explode.

“Hmmm, what was that?” he bites at the flesh of your thigh, a high pitched whimper falling from your lips “Need me fuck that little attitude out of you sweetheart?”

And you’ve been wound up so tight for the past week that it doesn’t take you long to rid yourself of your panties. He takes advantage of you standing up, plopping down to take his rightful seat on the throne.

That cocky smirk is adorning his features, but you wanted to smack it off. “As cute as you think you look in this seat… it’s always been my throne sweets.”

Before Eddie has time to mutter another snarky remark you’re climbing into his lap, crashing your mouth against his. You’ve learned throughout the past week that it’s really the only way to shut him up.

His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your hips, eagerly grinding yourself against the bulge in his pants. Eddie moans into your mouth, his tongue licking your lower lip. You part your lips, allowing him entry as your tongues fight for dominance.

He tastes like Twizzlers and cigarettes, a combination you shouldn’t find as delicious as you do. But it only seems to make you needier, the denim becoming damp as you continue to grind yourself onto him.

“Look at you making a fucking mess on my jeans,” he mumbles against your mouth, nipping at your lower lip which causes you to whine as he pulls away. His chest rumbles as he chuckles, grabbing your cheeks in his hand— forcing you to look at him.

“But I’d rather you make a mess on my cock sweetheart.” His words have your head reeling, the male now gripping behind your knees and lifting you up. You squeal in surprise, clutching onto his shoulders to steady yourself. “Eddie, put me down.”

He carefully lets you slide down his front until your feet touch the ground, spinning you around before bending you over the armrest of his throne. His hands travel up your bare thighs, taking his time to appreciate your soft skin.

“Are you going to fuck me or not Munson?” You huff, the male now flipping up your skirt and landing a harsh smack on your ass. “So goddamn impatient aren’t you?”

You hear the sound of his belt clinking open, the zipper being tugged down. It makes you clench your thighs together, something Eddie didn’t miss. His fingers dipping between your legs, teasing you further.

“Trained you well didn’t I baby?” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, despite how your stomach flipped at the word baby.

And you can feel him then, carefully lining himself at your entrance as you try to grind back into him. A firm hand against your hips stops you. “Ready? I’m gonna go slow,” he mutters, and there’s a gentleness in his words, despite his meanness in how he’s handling you.

You hum in approval and brace yourself. There’s a loud groan coming from behind you as he slips inside your warm heat, reveling in how you almost suck him in, a small gasp leaving you from the stretch.

“Big stretch, huh?” he coos in a cocky lilt, and you almost wanna reach around and punch him, but this idiot has your eyes rolling back from the fullness, and he’s not even all the way in yet.

So you nod, followed by a needy little whine that makes him chuckle low in his chest– you need him that much?

He goes deeper, spurred on by your noises, by how much you need him to fill you up. A sardonic smile on his lips as he bottoms out and slams all the way in, causing you to shriek.

Eddie sets a fast pace, not really giving you any time to adjust, but he’s already nudging that spot deep within you, making you see stars.

You hear him groan, “So fuckin’ tight, aren’t you sweets?” and it’s a rhetorical question, because your tongue feels too big for your mouth and there’s nothing coming out of it besides unintelligible whines and moans as you hold on to the armrest across from you.

Your noises only encourage him to go faster, and it’s almost too much the way he’s hitting that sweet spot inside you. You try to distance yourself from him, just enough to catch your breath, but he grabs your shoulders, using them as leverage to ram deeper into you.

He leans over, his clothed chest against your back, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Goin’ somewhere, baby? Thought you could handle me.” He bites at your earlobe, and there’s just so much going on in your brain that you can’t possibly muster any response to whatever he’s telling you.

“Oh I said that, didn’t I? When we first met. I said I could handle a spoiled little diva like you, and look at that,” he laughs, and you’re sure you’re about to combust. Your fingers reach to grip the cushioned seat of the throne, as another wail leaves your lips.

“Singin’ my praises now aren’t you baby?” The wood of his throne digs into your hips and stomach as he pushes you further into it, a feline movement as he drapes himself off and over you, his hands now gripping the armrest opposite of you for purchase.

Your legs begin to give out, as you beg God or whatever entity up there that he won’t give into his sick little game. That he’ll let you cum this time.

“Shit, sweets, you’re gripping me so tight.” he grunts, a boyish grin on his face as small uh uh uhs fill the room.

“Should we let you cum tonight? We can’t have you being a bitch tomorrow, it’s the end of hell week,” he jokes, and it almost feels humiliating, how he can make fun of you like this and you’re just going to keep fucking yourself back onto him.

“God- Fuck- Please!” you beg, with all the strength you can muster, and he can’t help but let a satisfactory grunt leave his lips.

“Look at you begging, don’t even have to ask now, do I?” and you can feel him twitch inside you. He’s also getting close.

“Ready?” he huffs, with the last little bit of stamina he has, and you can’t brace yourself enough for the wave of pleasure that washes over you with the last few snaps of Eddie’s hips as you come undone with a loud cry, echoing through the dark halls of the theatre.

“Fuck, okay, where should I–” he begins, he’s at his wits end.

“In…side,” is all you can say before he stills himself inside of you, letting his release take over him with a loud groan. His warm cum painting your inner walls, leaving you feeling satiated.

Eddie stabilizes his breath, forehead leaning against your shoulders, days on days of pent up frustration hanging like mist in the air. You’re both able to think clearly for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffs, lifting himself off of you as he slowly slips his cock out. You can feel his cum beginning to drip down your thighs, your legs wobble as you attempt to stand. Knees buckling as you try and find your discarded panties.

“Whoa there, I got ya,” he wraps his arm around your waist, holding you against his warm chest. It felt good, leaning against him like that. But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, “I’m fine Eddie.”

You push yourself off only to nearly fall once more, an annoyed grumble leaving his lips, “Are you always so stubborn?” He reaches down for your panties, guiding you to sit on the edge of the throne so he could help pull them up your thighs.

It was an unusually tender action, and not one that you expected from him. “Thought you didn’t want me sitting here?” You tease, his brown eyes glancing up as he’s kneeling before you.

“I’ll let it slide this one time,” he chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. A dimple you had never noticed before indenting his cheek, another feature that now found annoyingly attractive.

You roll your eyes at him and stand up, “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal.” You quip, as you try to wobble off the stage, he runs after you.

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you walk home like this,” and there’s a tender look in his eyes, something close to genuine concern. “My van is out front, I can drive you.” He points in a general direction behind him, and you want to say no so badly.

But you don’t, and now you find yourself being driven home by Eddie. His dingy van smells like cigarettes and weed and it squeaks every time he goes over a bump. There’s loud music blaring through the stereo speakers and an uncomfortable silence between the two of you.

“So uh, you excited for next week?” Eddie’s the first to break the silence, briefly turning towards you.

“I’m actually kinda nervous,” you admit, sinking into the seat. “It’s a big role, big shoes to fill. I guess I’m just scared I’m not gonna be any good.” You chuckle, almost embarrassed at your admission.

“You? Not good? I’ve seen you, y’know? I’m not just staring at your tits during rehearsal. You’re pretty darn good.” He gives you a half smile at that, pulling up next to your house.

You’re a bit flustered by his compliments, finding yourself not wanting to leave his company just yet.

“Thanks, Eddie. I appreciate it,” you smile at him.

“And hey, if you still feel nervous opening night come find me— I’ll help you,” he winks at you and you can’t help but laugh, as you see him looking at you with a big grin on his face.

You look at him back, and God, maybe it’s the streetlights or the moon, but he’s never been more beautiful. In a leap of courage you lean over the dashboard and peck him on the lips.

As you detach from him and reach for the door handle, he pulls you back in deeper, searing and intense, one of those kisses that have your tummy flipping. Except it’s not in the comfort of the theatre, and without an underlying motive behind it.

Just you and him. In his van.

You let your lips part, give him access to your mouth, but he stops you.

“It’s midnight,” he whispers against your lips. “Dress rehearsal tomorrow, you need to rest.” He smiles as you place another peck on his lips. Pouting as you reach for the door handle. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you until you’re inside, seeing the light of your room turn on.

Once he knows you’re safe, he starts his van back up and pulls away from your house with the cheesiest grin on his face.

Opening night. It’s finally here.

You should feel excited, and yet all you want to do is lock yourself in one of the broom closets and hide. You’ve never felt so nervous before, thinking of all the different outcomes that could occur. What if you forget all your lines? Or you have an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction during a quick change?

Your mind is reeling as you enter the dressing room, the rest of the cast buzzing excitedly around you. You fake a smile and sit at your station, noticing the bouquet of lilies resting on the counter top. You can feel yourself flushing, opening the card that came with it.

Break a leg Juliet xx.

You ask around the rest of the cast but no one knows who left them, and while you hoped they came from a certain metalhead… you couldn’t be so sure. Your little cat and mouse game had suddenly turned into something very real, and part of you was afraid it would be over once the curtains closed.

You get ready for the show in a daze, now staring at yourself in the dressing room mirror as nerves rage through your insides. The rest of the cast had dissipated, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

“There’s the leading lady,” Eddie’s voice snaps you out of your haze, meeting his eyes in the mirror’s reflection. He must have noticed the look of panic across your features, as he rushes to your side.

You give him a weak smile in return, letting a heavy exhale escape past your lips.

“So uhhh, did you like the flowers?” He asks, and he can see your eyes light up in the mirror, momentarily forgetting nerves, fear and anxiety.

“So it was you,” he coaxes you to face him, kneeling next to you with a large grin.

“T’was I, fair maiden.” He does a half bow from his kneeling position, making you giggle.

“So you’re in love with me now?” You tease, as Eddie’s hands come to rest on your thighs, spreading them as much as he can in your dress before moving in between them.

“I’m literally going to die from nerves, what if I mess up my lines?” you begin, but Eddie seems to have much different plans.

“There she is….” he murmurs, more to himself.

You feel the heat pool in your middle at his words, squirming a little in your seat. Eddie reaches to cup your chin, tilting it down so you meet his gaze. His brown eyes sparkling with mischief, “You know, my offer still stands Lady Capulet.”

“Here? The doors are literally opening in fifteen minutes, don’t you have stage manager things to take care of?” your tone is alarmed, rather, a mix of alarm and excitement.

“My job as stage manager right now is to make sure Juliet feels comfortable enough to go on stage,” he grins, peppering kisses over your hand and wrist.

“But what if we get caught? Or you make me cum so hard I forget my lines?” The nerves make you ramble, as his chin rests on one of your thighs.

“As good as I am at eating you out sweetheart, I doubt that’ll happen.” He bunches the fabric of your costume up your thighs, beginning to give sweet caresses on the skin of your legs.

You seem unconvinced, still.

“Look, I’ll sweeten the deal. If you get all your lines right, which I don’t doubt you will, I’ll take you out on a date.” His lips are pursed in a coy smile.

Your eyes widen, “Like a date date? You and me?” and your heartbeat picks up.

“Who else, idiot?” Eddie laughs, which makes you smile, “Now,” he begins.

“Do you want me to do something about those jangled nerves of yours?” And you can’t help but bite your lip and nod.

His lips begin trailing up your thighs, a shiver running through you from his tender actions. “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” He pauses, shifting closer as he switches sides, now leaving open mouth kisses along your opposite thigh. “It is the East, and Juliet is the sun.”

You feel your breath hitch in your throat as he works his way to your clothed center, his eyes flicking up to look at you. “Arise, fair sun and kill the envious moon… and whatever the fuck else Romeo says.” Eddie chuckles before eagerly pressing his mouth against your clothed pussy, his tongue lapping at the wet spot on the cotton.

A gasp bubbles deep in your throat at the sensation, feeling the bliss of his tongue through the cotton barrier, your body easing up from its nervous state.

He looks up at you, “Good, huh?” He hums through the fabric, and you’re wound up so tight you’re already panting.

He taps the side of your thigh to get you to lift your hips, removing your panties in the process.

A low whistle escapes him as you spread your legs for him again, “Talk about eating in costume, baby, jeez.” He chuckles, and the joke makes you laugh too.

A short lived laugh at that, turning into a breathless gasp when his tongue makes contact as he begins to lap up the length of your pussy.

Your hand immediately goes to tug at his curls, not caring that they’re tied up and out of his face to be able to see the cue sheets. The delicious pull at his scalp makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.

A low moan falls out of your lips, catching yourself, hand flying to your mouth as you hear the rest of the cast clamoring outside.

“Gotta be quiet, Lady Capulet,” he snickers as he goes back to burying his face between your legs. His tongue darting in and out of you as a hand reaches for your mouth, wetting two of his fingers.

You don’t hesitate to open up your mouth for him, a bite at the juncture between your pelvis and your thigh, “Atta girl.” He mumbles against the wet skin, popping his fingers out of your mouth to tease at your entrance.

“That’s it baby, focus on me.” A whine escapes you as you’re now grinding on his tongue, his fingers enter you slowly, head thrown back in pleasure.

“You nervous, baby?” He asks, a cocky smile on his face. His fingers curl upward, your eyes squeeze at the overwhelming sensation.

You shake your head, still sentient. Not too far gone yet.

“You gonna use me to get off, my lady?” His fingers are pumping faster, feeling tears brimming on your waterline, hoping to not spill all over your face, your stage makeup seems to be in precarious conditions.

A familiar warmth, deep in the pool of your tummy, “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop” You know how much he likes to hear you sing for him. His spare hand grabs onto your thigh, rings biting the soft skin there, feeling yourself teetering on the edge.

“Thaaaat’s it, you’re doing so well,” he whispers. One more pump of his fingers and you cum with a silent cry, biting onto your hand, feeling yourself pulsate around his fingers.

Without much warning he slips them out, sucking on his own fingers, tasting your own delicious essence.

“Places!” You hear Miss George say backstage, as Eddie retrieves your panties for you and slips them up your legs.

Eddie fixes his hair in the mirror, tying them back. He places a kiss on your cheek with a hurried, “Good luck— uh fuck I meant break a leg.” Then he furtively leaves the dressing room.

You feel a blush spreading across your body, finally relaxed and ready to begin the show.

You leave the dressing room, joining the rest of the cast, full of excitement. You know all your love monologues are going to be directed towards a certain metalhead tonight.

The show goes smoothly and you don’t forget a single line, you’re surrounded by family and friends, ready to do it all again the day after.

You go back into the dressing rooms to grab your stuff and change, but a long mop of curly hair occupies your chair.

“Eddie, you can’t be here!” you whisper, as he turns around with the biggest smile plastered on his face.

“Just wanted to tell my girl congratulations in private. You smashed it tonight,” you blush at the nickname.

“Since when am I your girl?” you ask, not letting him see how much it affected you.

“Since you kissed me in my van when I dropped you off, gorgeous.” He flirts, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth.

“So, how about that date?”

thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

tagging: @thornsnvultures, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @duuhrayliegh, @ali-r3n, @sunnythevampireslayer, @bimbobaggins69, @jamdoughnutmagician, @eiightysixbaby, @aphrogeneias, @daisy-munson, @gravedigginbbydoll, @s6raphic, @take-everything-you-can, @strangerstilinski

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfiction #stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!reader #eddie munson fluff

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zutarawasrobbed · 2 months

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ALTA Live Action Season 1 Initial Thoughts (Spoilers)

I just finished the season, and holy shit!

Quick things that need to be addressed/debunked:

“Sokka is no longer sexist”

I dont know what people were talking about when they talked about Sokka’s “sexism” being removed. It’s still there! But not in the overly exaggerated comical way it was in the original.

In fact, it’s more in line with ancient practices of indigenous tribes where men are seen as protectors and providers while women are expected to nurture. It’s not the same “boys are better than girls” narrative in the original.

Additionally, Suki still beats the fuck out of Sokka and humbled him really quick. They’re super cute by the way. And I love Suki’s “I like my men a little stupid” vibe. She’s great.

“Aang doesn’t run away like the original!”

That is not true. He does run away, but not because he’s trying to get away from the temple but instead to get some air because he feels overwhelmed. He’s more like taking a quick break and planning to come back. It’s not exactly the same, but almost. It also is done in a way where his guilt feels more justified.

“Katara doesn’t talk about her mom anymore like the original”

This is true… BECAUSE THEY SHOW INSTEAD OF TELL. I was honestly not prepared to see the death Kya in such graphic detail and how Katara was in the room hiding when it happened. It’s honestly really sad and more heartbreaking.

Plot:

The timeline seems to be ambiguous compared to the original series where it was “end of current year.” In fact, they repeat “three years” a few times, which makes me think if the series get greenlit for more seasons, it would be over a three year period.

Jet is still villainized but given more nuance and not a simple "good v bad" way like the original.

Zuko’s story about how he got his scar has additional lore that makes him come across as even more selfless and compassionate. The additional context of the platoon he advocated for in the war meeting, becoming his current crew, really added to the story.

Eradicated the nepotism baby plot point with Pakku only training Katara when he finds out he used to date her grandma. Instead, Katara proves herself and ends up teaching the other male fighters the techniques she learned from watching other benders use their elements and mimics them.

This season doesn’t have Aang learning any waterbending, but rather facing his trauma and the consequences of his actions. He get roasted by all his past lives. Which is an interesting choice, but I think it works well in how they executed it.

This season seems to actually be Katara focused and her journey of learning waterbending which I honestly loved because it really hits home the element of “water” being the story of an untrained waterbender learning her element. But, I do think Aang could’ve learned a little bending. It felt a little off.

Katara ends up advocating for all waterbending women and ends up leading an army of both men and women during the siege. She’s really bad ass and is given the title of master without being formally trained by Pakku. She made herself a master.

I think the timeline is a little wonky because of how much they had to fit in with the limited episodes they had.

Kuruk is given respect! I loved that.

June actually seems into Iroh which I thought was a funny but cool way to flip the script from the original.

The relationship between Zuko and Iroh is really beautifully executed. I love the depth they added with flashback scenes and their bond prior to the Agni Kai. It also wasn’t as frustrating watching Iroh and Zuko’s dynamic because Iroh communicated with Zuko in a way he could understand with straight answers rather than seeming to actively sabotage him with cryptic puns and shenanigans like the original.

They changed the love triangle with Yue Hahn and Sokka to be very healthy. They gave Yue autonomy and a choice in her relationship- which- again- is much more in line with indigenous cultures. Also, Hahn and Sokka’s relationship is really supportive and full of respect and no ill will.

They way they handled grief and the realities of war with the loss of life was very well done and really drove home the point that this is a war and these are child soldiers.

There’s a lot more but these are my initial thoughts. Will probably post more later.

Shipping:

Kataang is all but removed. Literally DOA. There is no indication of a crust on either side. It’s painted like a sibling relationship, which is like the original, but this time everyone seems to be on the same page. But, I swear the writers had to have read ZK fics because damn.

They canonized a popular Zutara theory/hc about the cave of two lovers and how the crystals would light up once it went completely dark instead of a “kiss” activating the crystal glow.

Speaking of the Cave of two lovers. They keep the Oma and Shu story with red and blue coloring. Making it come across more as foreshadowing than a direct link to the present tunnel story.

Sokka is put in Aang’s place with Katara in the tunnels and turned it into a story about the love of family and sibling bonds. Aang wasn’t even present.

Zuko and Katara share a meaningful look when they first see each other and continue to have a Katara centric scene followed by a Zuko centric scene and vice versa.

The scarf scene. I will not be elaborating further. If you know, you know.

Zuko and Katara fight scene in the North is epic. He still taunts her with almost the exact same dialogue but it’s so sassy- I love the banter.

Suki and Sokka were really cute and the actors had great chemistry. I think Yue and Sokka was really rushed and didn’t really feel anything about them, honestly. But I attribute that to lack of episodes to develop all that plot.

#zutara #katara #zuko #atla #atla live action spoilers

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earthtooz · 1 year

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fluff!!! little mentions to bakugou's past as a bully :/ but he's now very much in love with you <3

the best way to let bakugou katsuki know that you’re mad at him is by refusing to hold his hand.

handholding is one of bakugou’s all time favourite affections. although subtle, it’s grounding. he likes to know that you’re safe by holding you close to him, and he has the chance to pull you away from danger the moment it happens. also, to know that you trust him to keep you safe is another bonus.

he is destruction’s incarnate and it is from his hands that danger is initiated: hands that have threatened and bullied many- good and bad alike.

hands that have also pushed you into a corner when you were younger for defending a vulnerable midoriya from any more harm.

hands that have sparked explosions in your face during many school festivals as he sparked threats to match.

hands that gradually, but surely, learnt how to chase after you longingly.

after months- years of maturing and apologising for his stupidity, bakugou thinks he is the luckiest man in the world to be able to hold you with the same hands that sparked fear during his youth. he thinks he is the luckiest man in the world because you have trusted him to protect your heart in his very hands. similarly, you openly cherish his with your two palms and despite how it bleeds with love for you, you have never once let it break.

he also thinks he is unfortunate that you’re not compassionate enough to be against torturing him when he fucks up.

and the best way to show that you still have not forgiven him is by revoking his hand holding privileges.

bakugou hates it when there’s tension between you two and despises it even more when you have to pretend like nothing is wrong when in fact, everything is wrong. you’re mad at him for some shit he said last night and now you don’t want to hold his hand, let alone look at him, and he wants to crumble.

instead of finding a chance to talk, you both had to hang out with sero, kaminari, kirishima and mina as part of your obligatory monthly meetup and it was very obvious that something was off between you and bakugou.

when a merciless gust of wind hits, bakugou sees this as his moment to react. as goosebumps emerge on your exposed skin and you audibly shiver from the cold, it earns you a fair share of concerned looks.

“you okay, y/n?” kirishima asks and you nod, shrugging up your shoulders as a futile attempt to shield yourself from the frostbite. from the corner of your eye, your boyfriend is already shrugging off his jacket, keeping his sassy muttering to a minimum.

“just cold, thanks for asking,” you murmur, extending your palm to anyone in the group, “can someone hold my hand?”

bakugo immediately reaches for you, grumbling an ‘i’ll hold your hand’ but you retract from him with a dirty glare before he could even touch you. his jaw drops and his crimson eyes become windows to how betrayed he’s feeling, and even more so when you utter the next words:

“can someone else hold my hand?”

“but i’m your boyfriend?” he all but screams, earning a few snickers from your friends. they knew this dance all too well, sero and denki hissing ‘roasted’ at the blond.

mina’s the only one brave enough to challenge bakugou, “i’ll hold your hand, y/n!”

she’s almost successful too if it weren’t for small explosions stopping just in front of her face as bakugou glares at her with the ugliest (affectionately) expression you have ever seen. no one can resist laughing when he yells out a ‘touch y/n and you die, racoon eyes!’ before snatching your hand into his; his grip far too tight for you to even try and wrestle out of it.

“yeah, laugh all you want extras! at least i get to hold y/n’s hand, dipshits!”

“y/n’s got two hands though, can i hold your other one?” denki asks, feigning ignorance to the daggers bakugou was sending him and before you could giggle out a ‘sure!’, bakugou is lunging forward and shielding you from the electric blond.

“none of you are worthy, go away morons!”

your stomach is cramping at this point, your throat is begging for you to stop laughing, and your cheeks are so very sore that it hurts. your laughter has been mixed with the rest of the groups- with the exception of bakugou who is pouting with irritation laced deeply in his expression, but so long as he gets to see you smiling at him rather than frowning, he doesn’t really mind.

“whatever, laugh all you want,” he mutters before stuffing your hands into his pockets, where he can keep them warm. the remainder of the squad continues forward, knowing to leave you two alone.

his thumb is soothingly rubbing circles on the back of your hand as he shares his warmth with you. when bakugou katsuki meets your eyes, all the tension from last night dwindles away as he visibly relaxes, relieved that you’re at least allowing him to hold your hand again.

“we are okay, right?” he asks tentatively.

you shrug playfully, “i mean, i don’t really have any other choice than to say yes, do i?”

his next comment is quick, passive, but heavy in its meaning, “you do.”

you soften at his vulnerability, squeezing his hand before reassuring him that “we’re okay, katsuki, and we will be for a long time.”

hello hello everyone!! thank you for reading, if you enjoyed the fic PLEASEEEE reblog!!! even if you don’t think it’ll do much, reblogs is how tumblr accounts function. you don’t even have to leave a message bc i appreciate every single interaction nonetheless.

hope you like my writing and i hope to see you around!!

- earth

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gyupinkys · 6 months

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HELP YOU?

SEUNGCHEOL X VERNON X READER

WARNINGS: SLIGHT DUBCON, threesome, unprotected sex, impact play, cuckolding, choking, spit roasting, oral (m&f), spanking, degradation, edging.

WC: 2.6K

Vernon gets Cheol to help you learn some respect.

“Stop with the shit.” Vernon grits out in a whisper.

“Fuck you.” you say with venom in your voice.

Cheol rolls his eyes at you. He knows Vernon undeniably has a soft spot for you, but to let you talk to him like that in front of their colleagues? That’s just unacceptable. He grips your thigh from under the table, making you turn to him.

“Act like you have some sense, yea?” he whispers to you with a raised eyebrow.

Vernon knows you probably want to go home but that’s simply not an option. You have to sit here until business is done, no questions asked. You look at Cheol and then Vernon who's absolutely seething. Not only is his “lovely” girlfriend disrespecting him, but you’re embarrassing him in front of everyone. Cheol knows you aren't acting like this on purpose, you just feel so uncomfortable around these people. The guy sitting across from you is staring straight at your tits, you don’t know why Vernon is making you stay here.

“Y/N, go wait for me outside.” Vernon grits out.

Cheol watches you hesitantly walk outside, feeling all eyes on you.

“Lets resume.” Cheol says.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the meeting ends you’re sitting on a couch outside the private room of the club on your phone.

Cheol walks up to you and grasps your chin, tilting your head up to him. Your eyes widen at this.

“Come with me Y/N.”

He can practically hear your thoughts, presumably wondering where your lovely boyfriend is.

“Don’t worry about him, ok?”

Your eyes widen more, making him chuckle.

“I won’t tell you again, let's go.”

You get up and follow him, calling and texting Vernon to no response. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared of Cheol.

Once in the car you muster up the courage to ask “Where is Vernon?”

“He’s busy, he asked me to take you home.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hear the bedroom door open and close but you can’t take your eyes off Cheol. He’s towering over you and not saying a word. You gulp, fear taking over as you shrink further into the bed. He grabs your chin, tilting your head up.

“Why won’t you listen to him?” Cheol softly asks in his deep voice.

“I do listen to him.” you say breathlessly.

“If you did, we wouldn't be here. Don’t lie to me.” he says with an annoyed sigh. “I’ll ask again, why don’t you listen to him?”

You look behind his shoulder at Vernon, who's now sitting on the armchair in the corner of the room, a smirk gracing his lips

“I like to get him upset.” you whisper.

“You like to get him upset? Well that's no way to treat your man.” he says with a fake pout. “Vernon is so sweet to you and this is how you treat him?” Cheol spits, lightly running his finger down your chest.

“He’s mean to me.” you pout.

“What do you think about that, Vernon?” He speaks without breaking eye contact with you.

“I think she’s ungrateful.” Vernon says, getting up and walking to the bed. “I think I’ve spoiled her. I let her get away with everything without complaints.” he cups your face and continues, “I’m so good to you, yet you want to say I’m mean? Cheol here will show you what being mean looks like.” He places a chaste kiss on your lips and whispers against them. “I don’t want to hear you begging me for help.”

You watch him walk away from you and sit on the chair again until your view is blocked by Cheol again.

“Can’t say I haven’t been waiting for this day to come. I love making pretty girls cry.”

You feel yourself clench on nothing. Your mind is running wild, wondering how they even agreed to this, why vernon is ok with it and what the fuck is about to happen to you.

You open your mouth to speak but Cheol grips your hair tightly.

‘“I don’t want to hear a word out of that bratty little mouth.” he growls.

“Well that's not very fair when all you do is run your mouth.” you snap back.

He chuckles and looks at you with wide eyes. “I’m gonna fucking break you.” he growls.

He drags you down the bed by your hair and pulls you over his lap. You squirm against him, trying to break free from his hold on your hips. You feel a harsh spank against your ass making you pause. Did this motherfucker just spank you? You look at Vernon for help but he’s scrolling through his phone, looking uninterested.

“Don’t act so shocked. Bad girls get punished right?” he snickered.

“You're an asshole.” you grit out, earning you a slap to your other cheek.

“Keep it coming, sweets.” he says with a laugh.

You huff but remain silent, the spanking lowkey damaging your pride. He slowly pulls down your panties, sucking in a deep breath at the string of arousal connecting your panties to your soaking cunt.

“I think you like this more than you’re letting on.”

“It’s not for you.” He punctuates your sentence with another spank, even harder than the last.

He pulls your head back by your hair, looking you in the eye “Keep that mouth shut before I gag you.”

He lets go of your hair and you flop back down, forcing yourself to remain quiet.

He rubs his index finger through your folds, groaning at the wetness. “You always get this wet for other men? I’d think you didn't even like Vernon at this rate.”

“That's not true, I love him.” you say getting pissed off. What is he trying to imply?

He spanks you again, running his fingers over the welts starting to form due to his rings. “You love him? You sure do love another man playing with your pussy though.” he says, pinching your clit making you yelp.

“Stay still. Good girls take what they are given. Unless you want me to stop?”

“No, don't stop.” you groan.

He leans to whisper in your ear, “And you say you love him?”

Tears began to well in your eyes out of frustration. He begins a steady rhythm on your clit, holding your hips down to stop you from moving.

“Such a pretty pussy.” he whispers. “If I wasn't a better man I’d steal you from him. Not before teaching you some manners first.”

He slides a finger inside, feeling your warmth. “So fucking tight too, look at how you’re sucking me in. Too bad I’m gonna ruin this perfect little hole”

He slides a second in once you get loose enough, thrusting in and out at an excruciatingly slow pace. You begin to whine and buck your hips as he purposefully misses your G-spot. “Is there something you want?” he asks in a condescending tone.

You groan, knowing if you speak he’ll spank you. “Didn’t think so.” he says with a laugh, slightly picking up his pace. The tears in your eyes start to fall, feeling your mind and body become conflicted.

“Are you crying? Youre fucking pathetic.” he spits watching you huff in anger. “Is there an issue? “ he laughs. “You’re not telling me what you want, Doll. And you won’t like what happens if I have to guess” he says, smoothing your ass with his free hand.

Is this a trap? He did give you permission to speak right?

“You’re messing with me.” you breathe out anxiously.

“Messing with you?” He wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing tightly. “No, I’m not messing with you. I’m just teaching you a lesson” he spits, spanking you again.

Fuck, you can feel your skin splitting. “That hurts” you whimper.

He spanks you again. “If it hurt that bad you’d shut that slutty little mouth wouldn't you? I think you like this.” he says, pushing you off his lap and onto the bed.

“You want someone to treat you like a whore right? Play with you? Torment you? I’m sure sweet little Vernon doesn't give you what you want right?”

You shake your head No, earning a slap to the face. He squishes your cheeks and pulls your face to his. “What did I say about lying to me?”

“Fuck you.” you grit out.

He chuckles under his breath. “Lay on your back for me.”

You oblige, not wanting to be punished anymore.Your ass is on fire due to you sitting on it but you don’t have it in you to complain, feeling your resolve crumble. He pushes your legs open and kisses down your thighs, sucking and biting into the soft flesh. He pushes your knees to your chest and licks a long stripe up your cunt, both him and Vernon groaning in unison.

“Tastes so good, what a whore like you do to deserve such a sweet pussy?”

He doesn't give you time to gather your thoughts, diving into you making your toes curl. He goes straight for your clit, lightly biting it with his teeth.

“Don’t be scared to moan for me, baby.” he says with a smirk, watching your eyes dart to Vernon.

He doesn't hesitate to add two fingers, aiming directly for the spongy spot deep inside of you.

“Fuck” you groan out, tensing up because you spoke, scared he’ll stop. Thankfully he seems to not have heard you, licking and sucking on your clit and speeding up his fingers. The tension from earlier is hitting you and you can feel the orgasm coming. You clench down on his fingers just to feel them abruptly withdraw from you. You shoot up and look at him with wide eyes.

“Now don’t tell me you were stupid enough to think I’d let you cum.” he says with a laugh.

You huff out a breath and plop down on the bed. “Not so fast, Doll. Get on your knees.” he says, unbuttoning his pants enough to pull his cock out. You scramble to the floor and on your knees, scared about what he'll do if you don’t listen.

“Look at you being a good girl.” he praises and it goes straight to your head. You feel like you’re floating.

You look at his cock and your eyes widen. He’s huge, like a little too big. You thought Vernon had the biggest dick you’ve seen but you’re clearly wrong. You realize you’ve boosted his ego when he smirks. “Don’t look too shocked, doll.”

You roll your eyes earning another slap to the face. “Tongue out.”

You stick your tongue out and he taps the head of his cock against it. He drags his fingers to the base of your throat. “I’m gonna put it all the way down here.” he smirks sadistically. “Get it nice and wet for me. And don’t use your hands, I wanna see you struggle.”

Fucking hell.

You spit directly on his tip and use your lips to spread it around, already getting messy. You suck in a deep breath and start slowly taking in as much as you can. After a few minutes he groans. “I don’t have all fucking day.” he spits and thrusts as deep as he can down your throat making your eyes widen. He pulls out with a laugh watching you cough and attempt to catch your breath.

“Didn’t like that, huh?”

You glare at him but listen when he says to open your mouth again. “Better hold on tight.” he whispers.

He holds your head and slides his cock down your throat, hitting the base like he promised. He begins thrusting, causing spit to gather at the sides of your mouth. You can barely breathe, feeling light headed but too enamored by the sight before you. His dark hair is messy and his face is curled up in pleasure. “Throat feels so fucking good.” he moans out, beginning to batter your throat, cutting off your breath completely. You tighten up on him, running out of air. He pulls out, watching you hunch over and try to catch your breath. You're ruined already, covered in spit, sweat and precum.

“You really are a whore.” Vernon pipes up for the first time in a while. You look at him with a pout, but he has a straight face.

“Focus on me, Doll.” Cheol says, helping you get back on the bed. He puts you on all fours and arches your back. You're staring straight into Vernon’s eyes as Cheol slides in raw. You can’t help the moan you let out, feeling yourself get stretched. He’s hitting all the right spots and you feel your knees getting weak. He pulls out almost all the way and slams back in, launching you forward. “Fucking hell.” he mumbles, gripping your hips tightly and thrusting hard and fast. You can barely catch your breath, the wind knocked out of you everytime he slams into you. You grip the sheets tightly, feeling your wetness leak down your legs. You try to run, but he pulls you back every time, punishing you. You don’t know when you started crying but your face feels wet. You look Vernon in the eye and whimper out his hame.

He stands up and casually walks to the bed.

“What is it, baby? You want me to help you?” he asks, petting your head. “You never listen to me, so why should I help you now?”

You’ve never heard your sweet Vernon sound so sadistic, this is clearly bringing a different side out of him.

“Please.” you cry out, feeling the soreness in your throat.

“How about this? You suck my cock and if I believe you’re sorry I’ll make him let you cum, Ok?”

You nod furiously, reaching for his pants with shaky hands. You rub him from base to tip, squeezing his head.

“Fuck” he moans out quietly.

You spit on his tip watching it leak down. He looks at you pointedly and you get to work, fitting as much as you can into your mouth and stroking the rest with your hand. Cheol’s brutal thrusts send you deeper and deeper into Vernon’s cock but it’s not enough.

“C’mon baby I just saw you do better than that. Take me all the way.”

Cheol puts his hand on the back of your head and pushes you all the way down Vernon’s cock. Your nose grazes his pubic bone and you try to focus on his breathing. Cheol places his hands on your hips again, fucking you onto Vernon’s cock with every thrust. You feel beyond overwhelmed, stuffed full.

“This feel good, baby?” Vernon asks, smoothing his hands down your spine.

You dumbly hum around his cock, unable to think any thoughts.

“Cock got you dumb, Doll?” Cheol asks, angling his hips up in an attempt to push you over the edge. You moan onto Vernon��s cock, the vibrations pushing him over the edge. He pushes in as far as he can, shooting his cum down your throat and pulling out, shooting some on your face. You gasp for air, trying to swallow the remnants of him.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum too.” Cheol groans, swiftly pulling out of you and cumming on your face as well. The mixture of spit and cum makes you feel disgusting.

“You look like a fucking slut.” Vernon says, making you pout some more. Your brain feels like it’s turned off. “I didn't get to cum.”

They both look at you like you spoke a foreign language. Cheol grips your chin, forcing you to look at him. “And you aren't going to. When you learn to behave Vernon will let you cum.”

He tucks himself back into his pants and makes his way to the door. He looks as put together as when he got here. He turns around and looks you dead in the eye. “If Vernon has to call me again, I’ll leave that tight little asshole feeling as sore as that throat.”

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #vernon smut #choi seungcheol smut #vernon x reader #scoups x reader

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sincerlycas · 1 year

Text

What you heard.

inspired a bit by the song “what you heard” by sonder/brent faiyaz.

warning: spanking, rough sex, degrading, fluff, a bit toxic, eren yeager (yes this man is a warning), etc.

wrd count: 2k./ don’t forget to dm me for commissions <3

part 2.

“y/n baby what is your issue?” eren currently had your arm in his clutch stopping you from walking away from him any further. the lines on his forehead, and frown on his face showed he was really not trying to deal with this at the moment. “what’s my issue? really? so you’re going to tell me you walk around them campus halls not knowing what people say about you- about me- actually about you and other people ?” the reason you were mad was due to the fact a little birdie came up to you saying a girl named historia was going around saying eren gave her some, and knowing eren’s past with her, of course you had your doubts but still had a sense of worry.

you being the classy (aka petty) girlfriend you were, went to look for this historia girl for answers to which she gave you a high pitched laugh voicing “oh! I forgot he was dating.. you, it sure didn’t seem like it the way he was fucking me last Saturday .” off the rip you wanted to slap that bitch, but you knew better to make a scene for something that quite possibly might be a lie. “you know historia it’s quite ironic you said that because if I remember clearly eren said and I quote ‘I would never go back to that roast beef pussy looking hoe’ but maybe I didn’t hear right”

you mimicked the high pitched laugh she did earlier right after saying that walking past her with a bumb to the shoulder and a mumble near her ear saying “sour pussy ass hoe”.

but if you already handle the issue why are you still mad? It’s because even though you didn’t want to believe her, the timing made sense. see, last Saturday you weren’t with eren. he said he had to run a errand for the whole day so you were just hanging with your besties. that would be enough time for eren to be with her. still you didn’t want to believe it. so the day after the confrontation you went to campus looking fine as usual with your grey shorts body suits with a boob cut and some cool grey and thick glasses.

till you were stopped multiple times that day from people asking ‘are you okay’ ‘did historia really fuck eren’ ‘you should holla at me since old boy ain’t doing his job’. this what caused your mood to be sour the whole day.

finishing all your classes getting ready to head home you’re met with a smiling, handsome, fine like wine ass man in your face. that man being your boyfriend eren, he has finally showed his face on earth after all these rumors. “hey sweet mama, I was wondering if you could come by my hou-“ cutting him off by walking straight pass him, Ignoring him as if he was a rando. “baby! where you goin’” he jogged up next to you grabbing your arm stopping you near a secluded area. “y/n baby what is your issue?” leading up to the current moment so forth.

“what are you talking about? y/n you’re really going to stress me the fuck out.” he said while letting out a sigh and rolling his eyes. pushing him on his chest making him let go of your arm and pushing you jet black lace off your shoulder. pointing your long acrylic nail at his face you said “bitch don’t play dumb, there’s no way in hell the whole campus knows but you don’t when you’re literally the main topic” your crossed your arms staring at him as if was delusional. “y/n l/n when I say I don’t fucking know what you’re talking about, I mean that now stop fucking around and tell me what you heard.”

rolling your eyes you finally answered what he has been desperately waiting to know “why tf people especially historia, are coming up to me saying you fucked her.” and to that he laughed, he laughed in your face! “you really believe that shit, baby you know good and that girl is crazy.” shaking your head and staring up at him you asked “then where were you on Saturday” “I told you, I went to run errands.” “what kind?” he stared at you as if he was thinking of an excuse.

“you know what, save it tell me when you done with all this bullshit and call me till then dont call my mf phone.” leaving at that and hopping into your Mercedes and reaching your apartment.

laying down on your bed in your baby pink shorts and white cropped tank top you decided you would find answers yourself. you scrolled through your contacts and called connie a mutual friend of yours and erens. “yooooooo” automatically answering the phone with his forehead all up on the screen. “boy backup I got a question.” “what do you neeedddd” dragging his words annoyingly and setting his phone up. “eren said he was with you on Saturday what did y’all do?” lying through your teeth just see if it’ll work. “Oh- uh yeah we were on the game all day.” he nervously smiled and rubbed his neck. staring at him with a mean mug.

“yeah you a damn lie I can fucking tell cuz your nose is red bitch learn how to stop that.” hanging up on him you decided to try again and called jean. “hey y/n what you need” answering after a while and nicely. “I was wondering what you and eren were doing on Saturday he said he was with you.” “ohhh yeah me and him were at the park all day placing basketball.” hanging up on him right after that and sitting up crossing your arms.

automatically you thought he probably did fuck her if not why would they both lie? your train of thought was interrupted with a knock to your door. getting up to go get it you’re brought with presence of eren letting himself into your apartment. “bro ion got time for you right now get out.” automatically dismissing him staying by the door.

“baby just listen, you gotta believe me when I say I didn’t fuck her she’s just lying.” of course you wanted to believe him, but at the same time why should you if he won’t tell you where he was that day. “then where were you on Saturday?” and yet again you are met with hesitation. “see what we’re not finna do is keeping back in forth with this shit, if you cheated just say that you bottom feeding ass nigga instead of making me look stupid in front of everyone”

slapping both your hands on his chest and pushing him away, to which he grabbed you with not much strength needed, and pinned you against the door instead. “y/n don’t fucking play with me, cuz now you got me pissed off. since really wanna know, on Saturday I was being the best boyfriend I am and was getting reservations and decorations and all shits like that ready for your birthday this week which was supposed to be a surprise.”

holding both your arms in his hands and keeping you from moving. and to prove his point even more he pulled out his phone showing him in a grocery store buying birthday decorations saying “my baby birthday in a couple days and you knowwww I have to treat her right and give her everything she deserves all that luxuries and shit, baby if you see this, happy early birthday and I love youu give daddy a kiss when you see this.” ending the video with a wink and putting his phone down.

“yeah you look stupid don’t you, not believing in your man but believing some dumb hoe I told you countless times about.” looking at anything but him trying not to tear up from the embarrassment you felt right now for being angry and lashing at him for no reason when you should have just trusted him.

“o-okay eren I get it I’m sorry, I should have trusted you” looking up at him teary eyed while biting your lip. letting go of your arms and rubbing away the fallen tears from under your eyes and kissing your nose. “it’s okay baby, but you know I’m not gone accept that sorry ass apology so go lay that ass on that bed for me” he stated and simply tapping your ass and looking down at you. shocked by what he said and looking up at him pleadingly to have mercy on you. “eren I said I was sorry just let it go this once.” you knew you were about to get punished the most pleasurable way possible but you were still sore from last time and fat ma needed a break! “y/n don’t make me say it twice.”

“OH.MY.G-G-GODDDD!!” screaming on top of your lungs with every word being punctuated by the harsh backshots eren was giving you. clawing at your sheets using it as a way to get away from those relentless thrusts. “nahhhh bring that pussy rightt back!” eren used his free hand to ball up your tank top in his hand pulling on it towards him to bring you right back onto that dick. “don’t run from it mama, what did you say I was? a bottom feeder?” right after asking that question a harsh slap came down to your ask making you let out another scream.

bringing your right hand behind you to claw and push at his abs. “d-daddy I’m sorryyy~ i promise I’ll never question you again- AH FUCKKK~!! baby pleaseee” begging him to give you a break and making promises he knew you wouldn’t keep, that was just how you were, a back talking ass woman who stood her ground but it always ended up with you here. bringing his hand down between your legs to furiously rub at you clit causing your legs to spasm and your hand to grip his wrist. “youre sorry? you really believed her- you better arch that shit right back up- you believed that bitch and doubted me?

crying hysterically and cumming for the third time, babbling ‘sorries’ and ‘daddy please’s’ to which he ignored. instead he lifted one leg on the bed slamming balls deep into you causing you to let out a silent scream and violently shaking your legs. “now tell me who this dick belong to mama.” flipping you onto your back to see your face while staying inside and keeping his leg up. “I-I-I-it’s m-mineee~” you shakingly breathing heavily trying to stop your cries. “then start fucking act like it’s yours and yours only.” slapping your clit repeatedly then raising his hand to leave another slap but is stopped by your hands covering it and shaking your head repeatedly no crying even louder. eren being the tease that he is starts shaking his head yes at you and forcefully moves your hand away. “don’t try cover and take away while I rightfully own.” “you see this pussy, that clit, this ass, everything on you is mine just as much as mine is yours, so next time you try that shit again you’re gonna get something coming for you.”

rubbing your clit as quick as he can and hitting your g-spot repeatedly you grabbed onto his back leaving down scratch marks every time he hit those bundle of nerves. not a moment later you felt like you needed to pee. “d-daddy stop- I’m gonna make messss~” and already understanding what you meant he started jackhammering into your cunt till he felt you spraying up on his abs, your stomach and legs, and some even reaching his lips to which he greedily licked away. slowing his thrusts down after cumming inside you soon after you and holding you tightly rubbing your legs to soothe you. “you okay mama? I’m sorry I did so much but I had to teach you a lesson” kissing your cheek lovingly and accidentally brushing past your clit with his pelvis causing to squirt yet again! “o-o-o-oh f-f-fuck dadddy it’s hurtssss, it won’t stoppp~” automatically going down eren went to lick up at your pussy catching every bit of your juice he can to relieve your pleasurable pain.

finishing up and running a bath and taking care of you, slipping on a oversized t-shirt on you (his shirt you stole) and a pink thong, slipping your thick black glasses back onto your eyes and laying you next to him kissing on your shoulders. “you feel better baby?” he asked while rubbing your thighs to which you nodded your headed and slept soundly.

eren took that time to grab his phone and post a video of you in your current attire with you legs still slightly shaking and a hand print on your ass captioning “fuck all them rumors I’m reserved for one person and one person only, she know that too.” along side the the song “what you heard- Sonder/Brent faiyaz”

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https-florals · 1 year

Note

Hi! Your request are silly open right? If so would you mind writing something along the lines of JJ and the reader have been dating for a bit and JJ keeps like complimenting or praising the reader and the reader can’t help but blush/get turned on and JJ notices she has a praise kink so he teases her with it a little more, especially if n front of their friends until he finally used it like in bed with her?

sweet talk - j.m.

word count: 2.5k

summary: jj finds out a very valuable piece of information about you.

warnings: SMUTTT under the cut, 18+!! lotta praise, slight dumbification but just a tiny bit, jj being sexy per usual, public fooling around kinda but not really, not canon because i like to pretend the chateau is still with us LMAO

a/n: okay obviously i became OBSESSED with this idea when i first read this ask!! started as a little blurb but grew to this monstrosity lol. thank you for the ask!!! i love you all so so much 🫶🏻

Even though you and JJ have been together for about a month, you’re still pretty shy. You’re still shy in public, shy when he kisses you, even more shy in bed. Your boyfriend would give you the world if he could, do anything to get inside that pretty little head of yours and see what you’re thinking. You’re becoming a little more relaxed around his friends, which he’s grateful for.

Tonight, everyone is sitting around the fire pit outside the Cháteau. It's a pretty summer night, with fireflies darting around and stars peeking through the clouds.

You’re perched on J’s lap, John B and Sarah in a similar position next to you. Kie and Cleo are doing a shotgunning contest, and Pope is actually chill for once, a blunt in his hand.

You’re roasting a marshmallow over the fire, laughing with Sarah about a new sitcom episode, when JJ taps your arm.

“Will you make me a s’more?” he sticks his bottom lip out in a pout, and you roll your eyes.

“Can’t you make yourself one?” you tease, but still slide a graham cracker out of the box and a mini hershey’s.

“Tastes better when you make it, though.” He’s not wrong, you make a mean s’more. When you go to hand it to him, he just opens his mouth.

Your eyebrows shoot up and your jaw drops, but your lips still curl into a smile. “Fine.” You adjust so you’re facing him a bit better, and hold the s’more as he takes a bite. JJ’s blues don’t leave yours as he takes a bite, and you kick yourself mentally as he groans out of satisfaction. This shouldn’t be this attractive, after all, it’s a s’more. That's like, the least sexy food ever, you tell yourself. Now a slice of juicy watermelon, you could get behind. But right now, you’re just being ridiculous.

You’re snapped back to reality when he swallows and exhales, hand squeezing your thigh. “Atta girl. Was a damn good s’more.”

Your cheeks go fire hot.

“Dear god, this is not the place for foreplay!” John B groans.

You clap your hand over the lower half of your face as Sarah starts to laugh.

JJ throws a beer can at him. “Man, Sarah's been grinding on you for the past half hour and I haven't said shit. Are you not in like, massive amounts of pain?”

It's John B's turn to blush, and he looks down at the ground quickly when Sarah snorts, pressing her lips together in an effort not to laugh.

“Are we being too…” you’re struggling to think of the word as you whisper to your boyfriend- “Pda-ish?” Surely not, because he had a point about John B and Sarah. They’re all over each other all the time, and you should be able to do the same.

“No, no!” JJ’s eyes are wide as if you told him that you were thinking about shaving your eyebrows off. “You’re doing perfect, baby.” His hands rub up the sides of your arms, and you smile, all bashful.

Butterflies fill your stomach at the way he’s looking at you.

“Absolutely perfect,” he repeats, and before you even realize it you’re subconsciously squeezing your thighs together.

As soon as you do it, you hope he doesn’t notice, but his lips curl into a little smirk after the realization hits.

You hop up quickly, and wipe your sticky marshmallow fingers on your shorts. “I'm gonna go get a blanket! I’m a little chilly!” you chirp, and nearly sprint into the house.

Gears are turning in JJ's head. He’s chuckling as he sips his beer, so much to the point that Sarah gives him a weird look.

“What are you cracking up about?” she asks, watching the blond boy grin and shake his head.

“I just learned something very interesting about my girlfriend, Sarah.”

You come out of the house a few minutes later, and Kie has pulled out her ukulele. They’re all singing along to the Bob Marley song she’s playing, and JJ pats his thigh, an invitation for you to come back and sit on his lap. Tentatively, you take your spot, draping the blanket over the both of you. Under the fabric, your fingers shift over the frayed hem of JJ’s cargo shorts. His callused hand curls around yours, and he threads your fingers together.

You relax at his touch, and start to sing along with the rest of your friends. JJ lightly pulls on one of thin braids scattered through your messy hair, each one with a different colored thread running through it- courtesy of Kiara and Sarah. It’s nothing you’re not used to, and you turn your head a bit more toward him and frown. “What?”

“You just sound so pretty.” His voice is low, and it rumbles in your eardrum like thunder. You just know your cheeks are going pink again, and you try to fight the rising need you feel.

“My sweet, pretty girl.”

That’s it. You probably look like a tomato. You chew your bottom lip as you smile, and suppress the urge to kiss him right then and there.

JJ grins, and that’s when it hits you that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“Damn, why are you all red?” Kie laughs as she hits a chord on her uke, and naturally everyone turns to look at you.

“JJ, what are you saying to that poor girl?” Sarah fake pouts and shakes her head at him like she’s scolding a puppy.

You cover your mouth, flushing even more with embarrassment.

“We’ve been goin’ on a little journey of self-discovery over here,” he answers, face all smug as his hand shifts to the top of your thigh under the blanket. His thumb just skims over the crotch of your shorts, so thin that you just know he can feel through them. Feel how wet you’re getting.

Your guess is spot on, cause his eyes widen and he does that thing where he sticks his tongue in his cheek and laughs. “Finding new things out about each other,” he continues, not breaking eyecontact with you.

“Is that a fancy way to say harassing her?” Cleo pipes in, snorting before she says, “You’re a bad, bad man, Maybank.”

He shrugs, all cocky.

Luckily, conversation carries away from the two of you, but his hand is still against your pussy. Thank God for that damn blanket. His fingers are idly running over the fabric, and it’s driving you insane.

“We need to go,” you whisper to him, uncomfortable with the burning between your thighs.

His eyebrows shoot up. “Do we?” You’re usually not the one dragging him away from social functions- that’s more JJ’s style.

You nod fervently, rocking back and forth on his thigh and trying to make it unnoticeable.

“C’mon, sweetheart, you know it’s rude to demand things,” he says back to you lowly, and you’re silently rejoicing that no one is paying attention to the two of you.

You swallow, and take a deep breath. “Please, JJ, can we leave?”

“There you go,” he sighs, and he helps push you up off him.

After a shit ton of teasing from the Pogues, you’re finally able to slip away. You’re barely through the door of your apartment when JJ jumps you, kissing you hard and running his hands up and down your sides, over your ass, and coming to rest just under the waistband of your shorts.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a praise kink?” he asks point-blank, against your lips as you’re fumbling with his belt.

“I don’t,” you gasp out, finally pulling it through the loops and throwing it down.

“Bullshit, baby.” JJ finally gets your shorts down, and his hand just ghosts over your underwear. “Tell me the truth.”

“Fuck, J,” you whine, pushing his shorts down and trying to shove your hand down his underwear, but he jumps back, leaving you devoid of his touch.

You huff like a child preparing to throw a tantrum.

“C’mon. Tell the truth.”

“I didn’t know I had one, JJ,” you cry, just wanting to feel him. You swallow, and follow up with, “Not until you.”

You can basically see his head get bigger as he grins, and finally puts his hands back on you. “All I wanted to know, sweet thing,” he laughs before he kisses you again, tongue slipping between your teeth. He tastes like beer and a little bit of marshmallow, and he smells like bonfire smoke.

He pulls away from you just long enough for you to both throw off your shirts, and then he’s picking you up and carrying you into your bedroom. JJ sets you on the bed all gentle, a startling contrast to the way he’s kissing you and touching you, the way he yanks your panties off and slides a finger between your folds. “Fucking finally,” he groans, nudging himself inbetween your legs. “Wider.”

You fall open for him, and he braces your hip with one hand. “Atta girl,” he says, and he slides two fingers in, slow and steady as he leans over you to trail kisses down your neck. You grind against his palm as he sucks a spot on your neck, your back arching and hips bucking. You watch his hand slide into his boxers, watch the movement of his hand slide over his cock.

JJ notices how enraptured you are, and he removes his fingers from you, a little shocked when you don’t make much of a fuss. “You wanna do something for me, pretty?”

That’s all it takes for you to drop to your knees, thighs pressed together as he pulls his dick out, and you’re absolutely bewitched. You sit back on your heels and look up at JJ, a perfect little picture of innocence with your eyes all wide… and then you open your mouth.

It’s fucking pornographic. There’s no way in hell you’re real, JJ thinks, as he curls your hair around his hand and thrusts into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around him, and his head falls back. “Good fucking girl.”

He also doesn’t think you’ve ever been this bold for him. But holy shit, he’s not complaining, especially when you gag around the tip of his cock. Your mascara is smudging beneath your eyes, lips swollen and looking so pretty wrapped around him.

You’re squirming, and JJ can feel the vibration of all the little sounds you’re making as you suck him off.

“Go on and touch yourself,” he gasps out as he hits the back of your throat.

However, as soon as you moan around him, JJ knows he won’t last long, and he wants too badly to come inside you to let himself get any closer. He’s pulling out quick, ignoring your cries as he pulls you up and pushes you onto the mattress.

On your knees, you fall facefirst into your pillow. JJ smacks your ass once, and is then manhandling you into another position, like he can’t make up his mind. He spots the mirror propped against the wall in your room, and pushes you back on all fours. When you look up, you can see him behind you. You watch as he pushes into you, watch the way his eyes screw shut in concentration, the way his blonde hair sticks to his forehead.

Wriggling, you moan out his name and whine as he sets a steady pace, slow, almost too slow. “JJ…”

“What?”

When you just whimper in response, he shakes his head and stills inside you. “C’mon, darlin’, use your words,” he chides, hands smoothing over your hip.

“Go harder, please,” you’re begging, pushing yourself against him.

“There ya go,” he grunts, speeding up, pushing into you hard and deep. He smacks your ass, once, twice, relishing in the little cry you let out each time. He pulls you up against him, chest to your back, hand against your throat as he makes sure you’re looking in the mirror. Makes sure you’re watching him slide in and out of you. “Look at how good you’re taking me,” he groans, hand moving to your clit when he’s sure you won’t look away. “Go on, keep looking for me. Look at how pretty you look, babydoll. All fucked out, and your mascara is even running,” He laughs, and you clench around him at the sound, the burning in your lower stomach becoming almost unbearable. You shake your head, unable to get any words but JJ knows what you need.

He lets you back down slow, propped up on your elbows as he rams into you. You just know you’re gonna have bruising on your cervix, but that's a problem for later.

His fingers circle your clit purposed and quick, and you feel like you’re about to tip over the edge. The way he shudders inside you lets you know he’s not too far behind you.

“J, S’close. M’gonna-”

“Hold it,” he says, tone a little mean as he picks up his pace. He wants to fall apart with you.

Just when you think you can’t hold on anymore, can’t reign it in, he twitches hard. “Now, baby. Come on, all over my cock, pretty-” He cuts himself off by his own moan, spewing into you as your cunt spasms around him. “Good girl,” he repeats as he fucks you through both of your orgasms, over and over. “My good fucking girl.”

JJ is still murmuring it when he collapses next to you, kissing your forehead. “So perfect for me,” he says all soft with a smile and another kiss to your temple, a complete contrast to the low growl in his voice moments before. “Gonna clean you up real good,” he chirps before hopping off the bed and into the bathroom. You giggle as you watch him walk away, forever finding your boyfriend’s bare ass a little funny.

JJ comes back with a damp, warm towel and two glasses of sweet tea, and he gives one to you after he helps you move and sit back against the headboard. He pulls the old sex wax tshirt out of his drawer and puts it on you, then nestles himself between your legs to clean you up. You wince as he swipes the towel over your pussy, and he shushes you and puts a hand on the back of your calf, soft and comforting. “Did so good for me, honey,” he says again, kissing your forehead for what seems the hundredth time, and pulls the covers up over you both.

When you curl into him, tiredness hits you like a truck, and it seems to do the same for him as he yawns, and leans over to turn off the lamp.

“JJ?” you ask, quietly.

“Yeah?”

“So maybe you’re right. About me having a praise kink.”

He laughs, and pulls you a bit closer to him. “Yeah, no shit!”

You frown. “What? Was it that bad?”

“Damn, baby, if I woulda known you’d act like that if I talked all sweet to you, I woulda done it a long, long time ago.”

thank you for reading!! likes, comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated!

#outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fluff #obx #obx jj #jj obx fic #obx fanfiction #outer banks imagine #obx x reader

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yelena-bellova · 1 year

Text

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight: Someone’s Something

Plot: Joel, Y/n and Ellie meet Henry and Sam, who try to convince them to team up to find their way out of Kansas City together.

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: tlou ep.5 spoilers, languge, implied smut, guns, mention of death, sa and loss of a child (16+)

A/N: Happy Valentines, y’all!! My gift to you is some light heartbreak with some fluff to soften the blow 😉

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist unless your age is specified in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

Y’all have blown this lil’ ficlet idea up so much, I’m still shocked it’s this loved. I’m so excited to finish out the second half of the season with you guys. Hang onto your butts 🤍

——————

July 1st, 2002. Austin, Texas.

Y/n had integrated perfectly into the Miller’s life. Sarah adored her, Tommy loved her, and Joel couldn’t get enough of her. He’d never admit it to Sarah, but he was thankful that she’d taken matters into her own hands and snuck down to the hardware store that June day.

In the beginning of July, Sarah went away to a two-week summer camp. Joel and Y/n had seen her off on the bus, Joel fussing over whether or not she had everything she’d need. He didn’t do well when she was gone for more than a day, a combination of missing her dearly and parental worry. Y/n had made it her goal over the course of her trip to distract him as much as she could.

They’d made a dinner date at Joel’s house the day Sarah left, the first of fourteen that Y/n had to keep him busy. His days would be consumed by work, but his nights belonged to them. Y/n knocked on the front door of the house, carrying a six pack she’d picked up on the way.

Joel hurried to the door, swinging it open and enveloping Y/n in a hug. She laughed, clinging to his neck as he literally dragged her into the house. Joel’s lips were on her the second the door shut.

“Missed you,” he mumbled between kisses.

“You saw me, like, six hours ago,” Y/n managed to say.

“Way too long,” Joel smiled against her lips.

Y/n chuckled, “Yeah, well, if I die from lack of oxygen,” she wiggled a hand between their smushed chests, “You’re gonna miss me a whole lot more.”

Joel wrapped an arm around her neck, smiling so big his cheeks hurt. That was the effect Y/n had on him. She’d turned his curmudgeon qualities, plying them like clay until they were soft. He was a new man with her in his life.

“Joel,” she said softly.

“Yeah?” He was barely taking in her words, focused on how her lips were starting to swell from his attention.

“What’s burning?”

It didn’t register at first, then he remembered the food was still in the oven. “Shit,” he muttered, letting her go to run back to the kitchen and save their dinner.

Y/n chuckled, kicking off her shoes and heading in to help him.

Joel’s attempt at a simple roast chicken and potatoes turned out slightly crispy, but good, all in all. They’d eaten it at the table, Joel’s hands stretched across the surface to hold Y/n’s.

After their meal, they retired to the living room. Joel turned on the stereo and fell onto the couch, Y/n laying her legs across his lap.

“Well, day one’s almost over,” she said, “How’re you feeling?”

Joel sighed, “She called earlier when they got there. Sounded real excited.”

“And you could not sound happier about it,” Y/n chortled, “Joel, she’s going to be fine.”

“I know that, it’s just,” Joel strroked his hand over Y/n’s calf, “It’s been me and her for…ever. When she’s off it just…”

Y/n watched her boyfriend with soft eyes, waiting for him to say more.

“I know she’s growin’ up, she’s always been independent, but,” he paused staring down at his hands, “It gets easier and easier for her every year to get on that bus. Makes me think about the day she’ll leave for good.”

“You know that no matter where she goes,” Y/n offered, “She’s always coming back here. She loves you too much.”

Joel gently smiled, his fingers brushing against Y/n’s leg. She always knew the right thing to say.

“And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she kinda loves me too,” Y/n smirked.

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot to work with there,” Joel winked.

Y/n giggled, her eyes drifting over Joel’s shoulder to the corner of the living room. An acoustic guitar sat propped up in a stand.

“Y’know, I still haven’t heard you play,” she said, nodding to the instrument.

For as much as he loved music, he still got a little bashful about his talent. “I sound like everyone else,” he replied.

“Yeah, nice try,” Y/n wasn’t so easily discouraged, “Play me something.”

Much like his daughter, there wasn’t a lot Joel could deny Y/n. If it was going to make her smile, he’d gladly do it. He lifted her legs off of him and went to retrieve the guitar.

“Does the audience have any requests?” Joel asked, settling back down beside her and fiddling with the tuning pegs.

Y/n tucked her legs into her chest, barely containing her grin, “Something sweet.”

Joel finished tuning the guitar and took his position. He hadn’t played for anyone other than Sarah in a very long time.

The first pluck of the strings relaxed them both, Joel settled into the piece quickly. Y/n watched his fingers dance up and down the string, a series of movements only he knew. It sounded like an old folk song, the kind that told the tale of doomed lovers torn apart by tragedy. She had enough musical knowledge to know it was in a minor key. Sweet, it was not, but it was brimming with passion, and the way Joel watched the strings so intensely only added to it. Y/n was taken aback by the simple beauty of him, pouring himself into the music.

When it was over, a few final notes slowing the tempo before stopping entirely, Joel looked over to Y/n, a whisper of a smile playing upon his lips. Their eyes connected, the ever present flame between them stretching the distance between their bodies. In that moment, Joel was thankful they were alone.

In the same set of seconds, Joel blindly set the guitar down to the side and Y/n surged forward, the two of them meeting in a heated kiss. Y/n held both of Joel’s cheeks in her hands while he maneuvered her on top of him, their lips never losing their connection. The sadness of the song had drawn them together, both needing to feel the fullness of each other’s devotion to counter the loss that the notes had grieved. That wasn’t them, they said with each touch, it could never be them.

—————————

September 28th, 2002. Austin, Texas.

Fall had hit Texas, as much as it could affect the south, anyway. Sarah and Y/n were in the backyard of the Milller home. Sarah had her first soccer game of the season that weekend and she wanted to get in some extra practice.

“Okay,” Y/n called from the goal, “Don’t go easy on me.”

“Yeah, right,” Sarah scoffed, she was never afraid to show the full force of her talent on the field. Faking Y/n out, she broke to the left before making a sudden right turn and shooting the ball through the goal.

“Yes,” she exclaimed, pulling her fists down in celebration.

“Alright, alright, alright,” Y/n smirked, coming up beside Sarah as she did a little victory dance, “Don’t get too cocky. Let’s work on your goalkeeping.”

Sarah grooved her way back to the goal, “Okay, but I’m kinda spectacular at that too.”

“Well, we certainly don’t need to work on your confidence,” Y/n remarked. Sarah had the same cockiness, reserved only for things she was truly great at, as her father.

Joel materialized then, coming through the back door and watching his girls from the deck. “How we lookin’?”

“Today, Taft Middle School,” Y/n replied, catching the ball with her heel as Sarah kicked it, “Tomorrow, FIFA.”

Joel smiled proudly, both at Sarah and Y/n. Most women would have kept distance between them and their partner’s child. Y/n had jumped in headfirst, determined to be there for Sarah as much as she wanted her. She was the feminine influence his daughter had been denied all her life.

“Alright,” Y/n announced, “Good?”

Sarah nodded, “Good.”

Joel saw an opportunity and couldn’t pass it up. He carefully made his way down the steps of the deck, sneaking through the grass and up behind Y/n just as she was about to make her shot. As she wound her leg back, Joel wrapped his arms around her middle and lifted her into the air.

Y/n shrieked as she was swung around, “Joel!”

“Sarah, steal it,” he yelled, smiling as Y/n wriggled in his embrace.

Sarah surged forward, avoiding Y/n’s flailing legs as she fought against Joel, and snatched the ball. She moved through the grass effortlessly and landed a perfect kick into the net.

Laughing heartily, Joel finally released Y/n back to the ground. He shared a high-five with his daughter as she bounded back to them.

“You two are awful,” Y/n gave Joel a shove to his chest, her wide grin contradicting her words.

Joel hung an arm around his girlfriend’s neck, pressing a kiss to her temple. “C’mon,” he separated from Y/n and clapped his hands, “Two-on-one, girls vs. boys.”

“We’re gonna destroy you,” Sarah teased, coming to stand beside Y/n.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” he quipped, standing in front of the goal.

The three of them stayed out until sunset, practicing plenty, but laughing more than anything.

—————————

December 25th, 2002. Austin, Texas.

The Millers didn’t do anything spectacular for Christmas. A church service on the 24th, a simple dinner on the 25th, and presents.

It had been decided that both Tommy and Y/n would spend the night, it would make waking up and opening gifts easier than waiting for them to drive over. Tommy had taken the collapsable cot, his body was still used to military accommodations, while Y/n had gone for the couch. Joel and her were still hesitant to spend nights together, sleeping over at the other’s only when Sarah was away at her own sleepovers. Christmas didn’t feel like the time to test any boundaries.

Just past midnight, Y/n was still wide awake, tossing and turning on the sofa. There was a light snowfall happening outside and she hoped if she watched the flakes flutter through the air long enough, she’d drift off to sleep. So far, she’d had no such luck.

She took stock of the living room in its entirety. A fresh pine tree sat in the corner, a modest stack of presents surrounding the trunk. Two stockings were hung on the walls, Sarah and Joel’s names stitched across each. The room still faintly smelled like the batch of cookies her and Sarah had baked earlier in the evening. Even in the dark and completely silent, the house felt warm.

Footsteps down the stairs drew Y/n’s attention away from the decorations. She expected to see Sarah tiptoeing in to sneak a peek at the presents. Instead, Joel’s broad shadow entered the room.

“Can’t sleep?” Y/n asked from the couch.

Joel shook his head, “Nope.”

Y/n gave a small nod, pretending like the silence wasn’t as full of asking as it was. Joel’s posture had purpose in it, he wasn’t leaving until he got what he came for.

He tipped his head back towards the stairs, his eyes never leaving Y/n’s. “C’mon,” he said, his voice raspy with near sleep.

Y/n smiled to herself, throwing off her blanket and crossing the room to take Joel’s hand. The two of them tiptoed back up the stairs, trying not to wake Sarah or Tommy. Y/n knew the walk to Joel’s bedroom like the back of her hand, navigating in the dark made no difference. She certainly didn’t need Joel’s hands on her hips to guide her, but she welcomed them anyway.

Once the door shut, their routine commenced. Joel went to his dresser, blindly reaching into one of his drawers and tossing Y/n one of his flannels. Y/n slipped it on over her t-shirt, the sleeves ending way past the tips of her fingers. They made their way to their dedicated sides of the bed, Joel closest to the door because he felt better being a wall of protection between Y/n and the world.

“We have to get up before Sarah,” Y/n reminded him.

“We’ve got a 50% chance of makin’ it down before her,” Joel said, his hands gliding around her body to pull her into him, “Christmas morning, she’s up at the crack of dawn.”

Y/n drew closer to Joel, resting one hand on his chest and the other gripping the back of his neck. Already, she could feel her body relaxing in a way the couch just couldn’t coax out of her.

All the tension Joel had been carrying in his spine went lax the moment Y/n’s fingers grazed his skin. He was finding it harder and harder to sleep without her.

“Thank you,” she said out of the blue.

“For what?” Joel asked.

Y/n’s fingers danced along the line between the ends of his hair and the base of his skull. “For letting me be a part of all this,” she answered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joel’s heart swelled, he took one of her cheeks into his hand and let their lips drift towards one another. Six months in, and he wasn’t sure if he could fall any harder in love with Y/n. She wasn’t just his, she was theirs. She was a permanent fixture in their home, the house a little less bright when she was absent from it. She had become a confidante to Sarah, a best friend to Tommy and everything to Joel. How could he not want her in every part of their lives?

“‘M afraid you’re stuck with us, Rosebud,” Joel smiled after he pulled back, brushing his thumb across her cheekbone.

“No place I’d rather be,” Y/n returned his grin.

Pressing one final kiss to her forehead, Joel tucked Y/n against his chest, his chin resting atop her head. She let her hand drift around to his back, her fingers spreading across the expanse as she tried to hold as much of him as she could. They fell asleep within minutes, the gentle snowstorm outside creating beauty that would only enhance the magic of Christmas for the Miller family.

—————————

2023. Kansas City, Missouri.

“Eye on me! Eyes on me!”

Joel’s eyes slid to the other side of the room, to the man with the barrel of his gun pointed at Ellie. Her and Y/n both had their hands raised high.

“You don’t have to worry about what to say,” the young man said, “We don’t wanna hurt you. We wanna help you.”

Joel watched him, he was shifting his weight between both feet, no expert marksman was that nervous to threaten someone’s life. Joel felt significantly better about his chances.

“Okay.”

“Okay, um…” the young man paused, “I don’t know what the next step is with something like this, but if I lower my gun…we didn’t hurt you…so you don’t hurt us…right?”

Joel stared him down, “That’s right.”

“That’s a weird fuckin’ tone, man,” their enemy replied.

“That’s just the way he sounds,” Ellie interrupted, first looking to the stranger and then back to Joel, “He has an asshole voice. Joel, tell him he’s okay.”

Joel stared, nearly a hint of a smirk at his lips, “Everything is great.”

“Dude…” Ellie muttered.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Y/n intervened, looking to the man, “Now drop the fucking guns before I second guess myself.”

“That wasn’t any better,” Ellie exclaimed.

“Fuck! Okay, listened,” the stranger started, his voice practically trembling, “I’m gonna trust you.”

He then stopped to signal something to the child, Y/n recognized it as ASL. They communicated something none of them could understand.

“But if any of you guys try anything,” the man kept his gun aimed at Ellie, nodding to Joel and Y/n, “Yeah? Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ellie whispered, her heart was in her throat.

The child backed away from Joel and Y/n’s mattress, his aim still firmly locked onto them. Y/n was trying to get her heartbeat back down to a normal range.

“Can I sit up?” Joel asked, his voice was still on edge.

“Yeah,” the stranger conceded, “Slow. Get up slow.”

Joel obeyed, rising to a seated position without any rush. He raised his hands, the left one grazing Y/n’s injured right. Shockingly, the fleeting touch made her feel a little less nervous. If Joel was good for nothing else, at least he was a good fighter. They could get out of this easily, if necessary.

“Who are you?” Joel asked.

“My name’s Henry,” the now-named stranger answered, “That’s my brother, Sam. I’m the most wanted man in Kansas City. Although right now,” Henry finally lowered his gun, “My guess is you’re running a close second. Her too.”

Y/n and Joel looked to one another, that ambush was going to come back to bite them in the ass, one way or another.

“Henry,” Y/n spoke up, lowering her hands and laying them palm up in her lap, “We’re gonna need a lot more than that.”

The five of them ended up huddled around a lantern, snacking on their dwindling food supply and waiting for the rest of the story to unfold. Henry had made it clear that he had to get some food in his brother first. It had been Ellie’s idea to share what they had left.

“Where’d you get these?” Henry asked, chewing on a cracker.

“From Bill,” Ellie answered, “He’s dead.”

Y/n and Joel had been watching Sam, digging into what they’d shared with him as if he hadn’t eaten in days. There was a real possibility of it, or something along the lines. They both wordlessly handed what was left of their portions to the boy, who in return, signed something to his brother.

“He says ‘thank you,’” Henry relayed, “I’m guessing you don’t have much so, this means a lot.”

“How old is he?” Ellie asked.

The brothers talked amongst themselves, with Henry answering, “He’s eight.”

Ellie nodded, “Cool. I’m Ellie.”

“Y/n,” Y/n spoke up, wanting to try and make the child feel as comfortable as the circumstances would allow.

Henry spelled out the names for Sam, who responded with a sign that both Y/n and Ellie assumed meant ‘cool.’

Ellie smiled before smacking Joel on the knee and waiting for him to introduce himself.

“I’m Joel,” he swallowed his last bite, “Look, you ate, we didn’t kill each other, let’s call this a win-win and move on.”

Henry dusted off his hands, “Well, I’m betting that y’all came up here to get a view of the city and plan a way out. And when the sun’s up, I’ll show you one.”

Joel and Y/n thought it over separately before glancing over at one another. If Henry hadn’t killed them by now, he wouldn’t. He already knew their supply was low, the only reason he was sticking around was because he needed something from them.

“Okay,” Y/n answered for them, earning a quick turn and glare from Joel, “Sam can take our bed. As soon as morning hits, you show us the route.”

Henry scoffed, “Just like that you’re gonna trust us?”

“I know the eyes of a liar, Henry,” Y/n leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knee, “And you don’t have ‘em. You weren’t even going to kill us in the first place, and you certainly weren’t gonna make him do it.”

Joel was ready to jump in at any second, but Y/n spoke with such precision and intention, he couldn’t come up with any reason to stop her.

“So how about we get some sleep,” Y/n continued, “And tackle this tomorrow?”

Henry’s eyes focused in on Y/n, someone as calculated as she was was either the most honest person on the planet or so calcuating and conniving, they could deceive the worst of humanity.

“Okay,” he landed on trust, “First thing.”

Ellie and Sam settled onto their makeshift mattresses, while the adults sat against the walls of the apartment. Henry on one side, Joel and Y/n on the other.

“What happened to equals?” Joel asked, the edge to his words undercutting the softness of their volume.

“Would what you have said been any different?” Y/n countered, watching as Joel tried to come up with an answer that differed from hers, “Exactly.”

The two of them stayed close to one another, without actually touching. Y/n was still slightly rattled from waking up with Joel’s hand over hers.

“Although my fucking neck’s gonna be messed up all day,” Y/n mumbled, trying to find a comfortable position to rest her head against the wall.

While they trusted an already sleeping Henry enough not to kill them, instinct told both Y/n and Joel to not leave themselves in such a vulnerable positon again. Sleeping sitting up was the only option that would allow them a little bit of rest.

And Joel hated what he was about to offer.

“You can…” he pointed to his shoulder, “If you want.”

“I don’t want” Y/n quickly replied.

Joel sighed in exasperation, “Forget I offered.”

He crossed his arms and settled against the wall, shutting his eyes and shutting down his momentary lapse into generosity.

Y/n inhaled, trying to get over herself. She was getting way too much up close and personal time with Joel to feel comfortable. But it was either another dose or a hideous day of lingering discomfort without the blessing of Ibuprofen.

She awkwardly scooted closer to him until their thighs were touching, causing Joel to open one eye. He looked down at their parallel bodies and back to Y/n.

“Just don’t grab my hand,” she grumbled, laying her head down on his shoulder and praying that her stomach stayed unaffected.

Joel’s body stiffened as she rested on him, a quick shot of adrenaline running through his extremities. He wanted to pretend to be unmoved, unbothered by her touch, but it was impossible. He would never fully be without affection for the way she felt against him.

“Go ahead,” Y/n said, sensing his discomfort but mistaking it for simply physical.

Joel hesitated a few seconds before shaking himself out of his doubt and resting his head on top of Y/n’s.

When the weight of Joel’s skull fell on hers, Y/n’s natural instincts took over and she almost, almost, tucked into him more. It was by the grace of God that she caught herself before she did it. No matter how hard her mind loathed him, her body would have accepted him back in a heartbeat.

The two ex-lovers sat against the wall, still trying to convince themselves that they were miles apart.

—————————

Just as the night before, they woke up so much closer than intended.

Y/n had fully curled into Joel, snuggling into his chest at some point during their glorified nap. When she woke up to the rough scratch of his flannel agaisnt her cheek, drowsiness did not immediately remind her she was in the year 2023. In her sleep-adled state, it was winter of 2002.

When consciousness pulled her back to the land of the living, she lightly groaned. Why were their sleeping selves making everything so complicated?

Y/n rolled off of Joel, causing him to sharply inhale. He blinked a few times, rubbed a hand over his face and evaluated the room. Henry was still asleep, but Sam and Ellie were already awake and sitting on the edges of their beds.

Y/n was beside him, at least twelve inches of space between them.

“I do anything in my sleep?” Joel asked.

Y/n shook her head, sucking on her bottom lip, “Nope.”

Joel wasn’t buying it, “Then whydya got that look on your face?”

“I know why,” Ellie teased in a sing-song tone.

Y/n let out two loud claps, startling Henry awake, and got to her feet. “Rise and shine, time to work.”

Joel stayed on the ground, watching how fast she moved around the room. Something had happened and it had messed with her. He ran a hand over his right shoulder, noticing that it was warm when the rest of him felt cold. He peered back over at Y/n, rifling through her backpack to find Ellie and Sam breakfast. He watched how she crouched down and handed the kids what was assuredly the lion’s share of her rations. How she held up a questioning thumbs up to Sam, who in return, smiled and copied the gesture. How she cared. She still cared so much.

It was killing him.

But there were bigger things to worry about than the stirring in his heart for the woman who perhaps, hadn’t changed that much at all.

————————————

Once fed and watered, the group of five headed a few floors up to the apartment building’s conference room. Henry had promised it had the best view of the city.

“Welcome to Killa City,” he announced, showcasing the place in daylight through the massive windows.

“No FEDRA,” Joel observed.

“Not as of ten days ago, no,” Henry replied.

“We always heard KC FEDRA was-“

“Monsters? Savages?” Henry finished for Joel, “Yeah, you heard right. Raped and tortured and murdered people for twenty years.”

Y/n looked down at her shoes, “Fucking hell.” It was stories like Kansas City that were one of her reasons for joining the Fireflies.

“And you know what happens when you do that to people?” Henry continued, “The moment they get a chance, they do it right back to you.”

“But you’re not FEDRA,” Joel stated.

Henry paused before answering, “No…worse. I’m a collaborator.”

Joel shook his head, “I don’t work with rats.”

Y/n wasn’t so quick to walk away, Henry had too much of a heart it seemed to be a true collaborator. He had a story.

“Yeah, you fucking do,” Henry said, “Today you do, ‘cause I live here and you two don’t. That’s how I followed you here. I know this city and I’m gonna help you out.”

Joel watched Henry as he spoke, trying to see through him, “Why help us?”

“I saw what you two did,” Henry answered, “The way you killed those men. Now I know where to go, but I don’t know how to make it through alone, not if it’s just Sam and me.”

“You seem capable enough,” Joel replied, “You’re armed.”

“You’re wrong and wrong,” Henry said, “Never killed anyone. And pointing an unloaded gun at you was the closest I’ve ever come to being violent.”

Y/n nodded, no one let their hand shake that much when holding a loaded gun.

“So that’s the deal,” Henry stated, “I show you the way, you clear the way.”

Joel didn’t need anyone else slowing them down or making them more noticeable. And partnering with Henry would only make them bigger targets.

At the table behind them, Ellie and Sam were seated, reading from Ellie’s pun book. The energy was divided down the room; the grown-up side was deathy heavy while the kid’s side was warm and uplifting.

“Haven’t heard that in a long time,” Henry smiled, watching his little brother laugh.

Joel turned back to the window as he tried to put distance between him and the moment. Y/n glanced over at him, watching as the cogs in his mind turned. Her mind was already made up, it would have been wonderful if they could avoid an argument.

“So how’re we getting out?” Joel relented, turning to Henry.

Henry fetched a piece of paper from one of the drawers, office supplies had never been in high demand post-pandemic. He sketched out a square, writing down the names of the roads that cut through the city.

“Highways…” he pointed to one section, “Downtown,” then to the other, “Us. This whole area belongs to Kathleen.”

“And she is…?” Y/n asked, standing between Joel and Henry.

“Leader of the resistance,” Henry answered, “You can see the way we’re bounded by highways. They got people posted all around the inside perimeter. If we get close, we get caught. No question.”

“So how do we get across?” Ellie asked.

Henry banged a fist against the table to get Sam’s attention, signing something to him after. Sam went to drawing on his magnetic erase pad, Joel wasn’t made to feel any better about a kid being involved in the planning of their escape.

Sam held up his pad, having written the word ‘Tunnels’ on it.

Henry snapped his fingers, “Boom.”

“Kansas City has a subway?” Joel asked.

“No,” Henry answered, “But they do have maintenance tunnels. There’s a bunch of buildings all put up by the same developers. And they share these tunnels, including…” he pointed down to a specific section of his sketch, “A bank building here,” he began to draw their route, “So we enter the tunnels here, travel underground, and pop up here. Westside North. Residential. There’s an embankment on the other side of the houses. We head down, pedestrian bridge over the river,” Henry dropped his pencil, “Free as a bird.”

“You’re right,” Joel admitted, “It’s a great plan. So what do you need us for?”

Henry hesitated a moment, “You notice anything strange about this city? I mean, other than the strange shit you’ve already seen?”

“No Infected?” Ellie guessed before Y/n and Joel could.

“Oh, there’s Infected,” Henry replied, “Just not on the surface. FEDRA drove them underground fifteen years ago, and never let them come back up. It’s the only good thing those fascist motherfuckers ever did.’

Joel looked between Y/n and Ellie, “So you want us goin’ into a tunnel?”

“Everyone thinks that it’s full of Infected,” Henry quickly corrected, he sensed Joel’s doubt, “Including Kathleen, which means that we’re not gonna be running into any of her people. But you see, what I know is…it’s empty.”

“You know this?” Y/n questioned, “You’ve seen it? With your own eyes?”

“No,” Henry replied.

Joel took a deep breath, hands on his hips again. Y/n sighed and rested her elbows on the table. Henry was losing them both.

“But the FEDRA guy that I worked with told me that it’s clean,” the young man continued, “Completely clean. They cleared it out. All of it.”

“How long ago?” Y/n asked, shutting her eyes as if it could shut out their problems.

“Like,” Henry shrugged, “Three years ago.”

Joel scoffed, glancing to Ellie as if asking if she was believing this either.

“Okay, maybe there’s one or two,” Henry quickly said, “But you can handle it.”

“You’re making this sound a whole lot simpler than it is,” Y/n responded, looking to Joel, whose eyes were already expectantly waiting on her. “We need a minute.

Y/n pushed open the glass doors, bringing them outside the conference room and giving them a sliver of privacy.

Joel pointed a finger behind them, “You still feel good about this?”

“Not exceptionally, no,” she answered truthfully, “But we don’t exactly have a lot of other options, now do we?”

“If this guy’s gonna endanger our lives more than if we were on our own,” Joel argued, “Then we’re better off-“

“Fighting our way through a city we’ve never been in with targets the size of Texas on our backs?” Y/n finished for him, “Look, I don’t wanna go down there either. But we’re guaranteed a very slow, very painful death if we go it alone. I’d rather have allies and stand a chance, at least.”

Joel wanted to fight tooth and nail, but he knew she was right. She’d always had a talent for being right.

“Plus, it’ll give you plenty to lord over Tommy’s head when we get to Wyoming,” Y/n quipped, her mouth still frowned but her eyes were lit up with humor.

Joel huffed, he’d have laughed if the situation wasn’t so dire. The thought of seeing his brother and his ex together again was a sight he didn’t think he’d ever be ready to see.

Without another word, and a silent concession from Joel, the two of them marched back into the conference room where the debate was still being held.

Henry pointed to Ellie, “She says y’all fought off two Clickers. Is that true?”

Joel and Y/n uncomfortably shifted, the dread sweeping over them.

“And you’re still alive,” Henry stated, “You see? You’re the right people. If it gets bad down there, we turn around, and run right back out the same way we came.”

Joel was about one poorly constructed sentence away from giving the whole idea up, “Oh, that’s your great plan?”

“No, that’s my dicey-as-fuck plan,” Henry fired back, “But as far as I can tell, it’s our only shot.”

Sam signed something to Henry.

“They’re saying,” Henry narrated as he signed back, “They’re going to help us escape,” he turned back to the party, “Right?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “That was a low fuckin’ blow, man.”

Henry didn’t seem bothered at all by the manipulation.

Joel’s jaw twitched as he thought it all over. Y/n could practically feel his unease. She craned her neck back, muttering more into his body than at him, “Lesser of two evils.”

With every fiber of his being, Joel wanted to fight. But instead, he let his hands fall against his legs, admitting defeat.

—————————

The team got across the city with minimal close calls, every once in a while there’d be a truck or patrol group to avoid. They got to the bank building intact and only slightly out of breath.

“We need to get outta sight,” Joel said, every entrance/exit of the place was structured in a glass wall.

“Uh, I-I-I think it’s this way,” Henry pointed towards one of the halls, the rest of them following.

They trailed through the building till they hit a back door, hopefully leading to the tunnel entrance. Joel and Y/n entered it cautiously with their guns drawn.

“This should be it,” Henry announced, “You ready?”

Joel looked to Ellie, “Get your gun out.”

Rebelling in her own small way, once again, Ellie pulled out the gun from her jacket pocket. At this point, Joel wasn’t surprised in the least that she wasn’t heeding his advice. Him and Y/n marched forward regardless and took the lead. They entered through another door, delivering them into the tunnel system.

“You see?” Henry proved, “It’s empty. The plan is good.”

Joel and Y/n quickly shushed him. “‘The plan is good?’” Joel repeated, “We’ve been down here two seconds. We don’t know anything.”

Henry looked to Ellie, “Your dad’s kind of a pessimist.”

“I’m not her dad.”

“He’s not my dad.”

“He’s not her dad.”

Joel, Y/n and Ellie’s protests overlapped.

“Just point your light forward,” Joel instructed, tightly gripping his own, “And be ready to run.”

Y/n steadied her breathing and began to move beside Joel down the underground maze.

They walked for around an hour, snaking down the sets of tunnels, holding their flashlights and handguns as if they were life itself. Eventually, they turned down a hall with child’s art painted all along it. The door was even painted as castle. All of them examined the walls in quiet confusion.

Sam bounded forward, wanting to go through and explore. Joel threw his hand out to stop him, “No.”

Y/n tucked her flashlight under her chin and gripped her pistol, sharing an affirmative nod with Joel that they were ready. He slowly turned the doorknob and it creaked open, revealing a room that looked…civilized.

The whole place looked like a daycare center. There were toys scattered throughout storage bins, art and books against the walls, small cups, and a faded soccer goal painted across one of the cinderblock walls.

“I heard about places this this,” Joel commented, taking stock of their surroundings, “People went underground after Outbreak Day. Built settlements.”

“What happened to them?” Ellie asked.

“Maybe they didn’t follow the rules and all got infected,” Joel replied.

While Ellie and Sam sat down, playing with a few of the toys, Y/n, Henry and Joel scanned the room. Whoever had been living there, they’d been gone long enough for a layer of dust to settle across everything.

“Hey,” Joel called to Ellie who was being a little too loud, “Keep it down. We’re not out yet.”

“Ah, c’mon,” Ellie groaned, “Can we just rest here for a while? There’s, like, actually shit to do here.”

“Wouldn’t be so bad to wait the light out a bit,” Henry agreed, “Safer in the shadows when we pop back out on the other side.”

Joining Ellie and Henry, Y/n tilted her head in a slight shrug to Joel. It was a smart decision and he was just going to have to get over himself.

Joel shrugged back to the group, raising an eyebrow and going back to checking out the room.

Ellie and Sam occupied themselves by reading comic books and messing around with some of the toys. Henry, Joel and Y/n rested at a table, putting their feet up without actually relaxing at all. At some point, Ellie and Sam switched to kicking a soccer ball around on the makeshift field. Y/n watched carefully as Ellie interacted with the boy, she was so caring and patient. She’d confided that she didn’t have any brothers or sisters, but the glow coming from her radiated big sister energy.

Y/n scooted her chair back and walked across the room. “Can I join?”

Ellie enthusiastically began to switch the ball between her feet, trying to fake Y/n out. Y/n rotated to stand alongside Sam at the goal.

“That’s not fair,” Ellie argued, “There’s two of you.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you can’t do it,” Y/n teased.

Ellie’s determination set in, jumping slightly in place before kicking the ball in between Sam and Y/n’s legs quicker than they could stop it.

“Oh, shit,” she exclaimed, shooting her hands into the air.

Sam and Y/n shared a laugh before Y/n got down on her knees, “Can you teach me something?”

Sam watched her lips and nodded, showing her a sign. To her, it looked like he was pulling something out of his mouth, before bringing his two thumbs up and splitting their directions at his chest.

Y/n mimicked it, “What does this mean?”

“Oh, that’s from Savage Starlight,” Ellie exclaimed, copying the gesture with them, “‘Endure and survive.’”

The three of them continued to sign it over and over. It seemed to make both Ellie and Sam extremely happy, which meant Y/n would do it as many times as they wanted.

Joel and Henry watched from their seats. To say Joel’s heart ached would have been an understatement. His soul was barely holding together, a new piece of it dying off every day. But Y/n and Ellie had somehow kept the last few from withering. It was so subtle, he hadn’t even figured the phenomenon out yet. He was barely self-aware. But seeing Y/n, crouched down on the floor with the kids, still with the innate need to make the world around her better, he came to fully realize his thought from earlier in the day.

She was still his Y/n.

Smiling, laughing, loving, caring, kinder than the world deserved. Underneath all the anger was the woman he had loved with all his heart.

And that fucking terrified him.

As Y/n made her way back to them, Joel pulled himself back to reality, switching gears and channeling his energy into focusing on the kids. Specifically Sam. He was eight years old and in survival mode. No child deserved that. It was making him rethink his stance on the things he’d said earlier.

“If you were collaboratin’ to take care of him,” he said to Henry, “I…I shouldn’t have save what I said. I don’t know your situation. And I’m not sayin’ they should let it go, but all things considered, seems kinda cruel—to send a whole army after you for that.”

Henry waited a few seconds, Ellie’s cheers filling the silence, before speaking. “You know, I wasn’t, uh…exactly telling you the truth before…about me not killing someone.”

Y/n and Joel’s attention turned to him exclusively.

“There was a man,” Henry began, “A great man. You know, he was never afraid…never selfish…and he was always forgiving. Have you ever met someone like that? Kinda man you’d follow anywhere.”

Y/n tensed up, forbidding her eyes from flicking to Joel.

“I mean, I wanted to. Well…I would’ve,” Henry gathered strength for the rest of his story, “Yeah, but, uh…Sam, he, uh, he got sick. Leukemia,” he scanned Joel and Y/n’s somber expressions, “Yeah, anyway, um…there was one drug that worked and, whoa, big shock…there wasn’t much left of it, and it belonged to FEDRA. And if I wanted some, it was gonna take something big. So I gave them something big. That one great man. The leader of the resistance movement in Kansas City. And Kathleen’s brother.”

Understanding washed over Joel and Y/n. All the firepower, the tanks, the trucks, it all made sense.

“Yeah, so, you still think they should take it easy on me?” Henry asked rhetorically, “Or am I the bad guy?”

Y/n stayed silent, weighing morals against necessity. Joel pulled his lips down, barely shaking his head before Henry cut off what he would have said, “I don’t know what you’re waitin’ on, man. The answer’s easy. I am the bad guy because I did a bad guy thing.”

“But you did it to keep him alive,” Y/n spoke up, “You’d go to the ends of the earth for him. That’s not evil, that’s family.”

Henry’s eyes cut through the space between Joel and Y/n, “You two get it,” he nodded toward Joel, ”You may not be her father, but you were someone’s. See, I could tell.”

There it was. The big, dreadful, terrible thing that Joel and Y/n had gotten this far without talking about. It was the unspoken wound, the one deep enough to kill yet shallow enough that it didn’t show. It was a constant phantom pain in both their chests and it broke them all over again to have it brought up.

“You too,” Henry smiled at Y/n, nodding to Ellie, “That is, if she’s not yours.”

Y/n didn’t think the blade could slide any deeper into her heart. She had been something to someone once, and it was as much a part of her still as the air she breathed.

“Uh,” Y/n tearily began, clearing her throat quickly, “No, she’s not mine.”

Joel had had more than he could handle just by Henry’s assumption about him. Referring to Y/n as the word he couldn’t bring himself to utter in that context had sent him over the edge. He picked up his gun from the table and practically jumped to his feet, “We’ve waited long enough.”

Y/n stayed still at the table, holding back her tears took so much strength, it was stealing her ability to move. If she allowed herself to cry in front of Joel, she didn’t think she’d ever recover.

Henry didn’t ask questions, he didn’t bring up the very visible sorrow etched across Y/n’s face. Some hurt was palpable without ever being touched on, and it was painfully clear that Joel hadn’t been the only one to lose a child…

————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @itwasallinmyhead1 @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda @avengersfan25 @pedr0swh0r3 (tags cont. in comments)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #twenty years later #the last of us spoilers

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they-didnt-last · 3 months

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currently reading the lockwood and co books, and nothing could have prepared me for how much lucy fucking hates george in them. literally every chance she gets, she just roasts the shit out of him. she will be describing the most mundane of actions and still find a way to insult him. absolute hater behavior, i'm obsessed

#it's just so funny to me #cuz in the show you know they don't really like each other but i don't remember it being that serious😭#i'm still not over the bit when she was like 'yeah i'm pretty sure you kicked it with your bff. that stands for big fat foot btw'#like???#absolute insanity #to be fair he's not that much better we just don't get his internal monologue like we do with lucy #lockwood and co #lucy carlyle #george cubbins

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 8 months

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#371

“I’ve talked with Officer Reinhart. We are at a loss with what to do with you. We could arrest you and the two men over there for public sexual indecency. I don’t know much about those two, other than the one runs a construction business and the other is an assistant coach for a high school across the state. Arresting the three of you would ruin your three lives. I can’t take just those two men in. Arresting you, knowing your dad as I do, he would have my badge, Reinhart’s too. He’s a fucking asshole, and I know you know it too. I just have to ask, what possessed you from cruising so openly in the city where your dad is the police chief? That doesn’t sound too smart….

“I mean you were getting spit roasted buck naked by those two men. You may have been out of sight of the parking lot, but you didn’t even try to hide what you were doing back here between these two abandoned buildings, taking it in both ends buck naked. Speaking of which, where the fuck are your clothes?... In your car?... How the hell did you go from your car to behind this wall in the daylight?... What? You’ve been here since dawn? Jesus! Were there other guys here?... Six!? And those two guys make eight?

“You fucking whore. You slut. Faggot, you are a piece. What the fuck am I going to do here? I can’t just let you all go. I need to think here….

“Are you… Are you getting hard? You are!... Wait, are you turned on to me calling you a faggot and a whore?... If you don’t want to speak, then nod. Ha! Thought so.

“You like to be slapped around, used by men?... You are just like my girlfriends. I go to any one of my three girlfriends’ places, smack her across the face, and just shove my cock into any of her holes. If she complains I just smack her again and remind her that her number one job is to drain my balls. And if she didn’t like it, there are other bitches to go to dump my jiz in.

“You’re just like them, another dumb cunt who lives for cum. I bet you would love it if I did that to you. You need to be treated like I treat her; ain’t I right? Don’t answer. Your pecker is throbbing. Fucking faggot, there ain’t no way I’m going to stick my fat cock in you.

“I bet Reinhart would. He’s a sperm burper like you. He doesn’t know that I know, but he is….

“Reinhart! Over here….

“While he’s coming over, keep your head bowed, your hands behind your back, and your legs spread a little. Show him how cum dump faggots behave in front of real men.

“…It seems that pussy boy here is a faggot, you know the type of queer boy that likes to get roughed up by men like us and those two over there. Look at how he’s leaking, just from me telling him he’s shit.

“What are we going to do with them?...

“…No shit!?…

“Well, well, well. Faggot, faggot, faggot. So you told those two men over there that your dad is the chief of police, and that if you ever got caught then we wouldn’t or couldn’t do anything to you all. You faggot. You fucking manipulative fucking faggot. Your dad is the one that had us set up these stings. He’s expecting us to round up what he considers perverts. And here you are playing games.

“Reinhart, go get those two. Bring them over here….

“Gentlemen! I would introduce myself, but let’s keep names out of all this. Address me as ‘Officer’. You’ll be ‘Coach’ and you’ll be ‘Foreman’. This is ‘Faggot’.

“Faggot here thinks he in control since his dad is my boss. Fuck that. This is what’s going to happen. I still have my body cam video where it shows me approaching you two spit roasting faggot here. It got good looks at your faces, all three of you. I don’t have to do much to submit that video, and charge each of you. I can wipe it away without much notice. No more evidence.

“No I’m not letting you guys go, not yet. You have to do one thing for me. For all his game playing, this fag needs to be punished. I want you two to finish what you started. Yeah, I want you to fuck his holes. More like rape his holes. Smack him around. Piss on him. Spit in his face. Treat him like the faggot whore he is. Spit roast him. This will also be filmed, but this will be low enough to hide your two faces. You won’t be able to be identified. I don’t want your faces anywhere in here. And no audio will be recorded.

“I know what I’m doing. I’ve been filming bitches getting gang banged for years. And I know how to get the best shots. The video is all about the faggot son of the Chief of Police being a fucking cunt whore.

“I want this video to use against him, or better yet, against his dad sometime later. The chief is a strict right wing Christian.

“Faggot. This is your time. Go on get back into position over that barrel you were on when I came up. Reinhart, put the cuffs on him; we don’t need his hands in action. Foreman and Coach get in place. I don’t care who takes his mouth and who has his cunt. It won’t matter as you will be probably switching holes when I tell ya.

“Coach, I would lose the T-shirt as it has your high school’s name on it…. Nice body. Fuck yeah. Use that toilet whore’s mouth. Remember to smack him if he uses his teeth. And don’t hold back. He’s a faggot after all, not one of these queer boys that you would want to ease up on.

“Damn, Foreman. That’s one giant hog you got there. It’s going to need a lot of spit. But don’t put too much though. Now shove it to the root. The fag needs to feel its size tearing his cunt up. You know what the difference between a pussy and a cunt?... You only care for the pussy…. Now shove it in!

“Fuck yeah. You hear the bitch screaming around Coach’s cock? Coach, you feel it hunh? That smile says it all. Signal when you are getting close.

“You two enjoy yourselves. It’s all about your pleasure and his suffering.

“Reinhart, I see you over there rubbing that sizeable bulge of a crotch. Why don’t you take your cock out and jerk yourself? I’m not telling anybody; your secret is safe with me.

“Fuck yeah guys. This is how cum dump whores should be used. Fags, bitches, it’s all the same. Use them and then toss them aside. That’s what they deserve.

“Hey faggot! Look at the camera. Let the world see that you live for sucking cock. I can see it in your eyes that you are struggling, but that you wouldn’t want it any other way. You have that hunger. That need.

“Switch holes…. Coach dive in to his pussy! Foreman, hold up. Show the faggot your battering ram.

“Faggot look at it. Look at how it’s all slimy. That’s from your cunt. A cum stew from a half of a dozen men. It’s nasty,… but you need this nasty sludge in your mouth.

“Fuck this faggot’s throat. Be brutal. The focus is on your pleasure. His should be ignored….

“You ready to cum Coach?... Then just dump your load…. Don’t pull out…. Fuck yeah! Do it!... There you go! Fuck yeah. Fuck. Yeah!...

“Foreman, pull back. Coach here needs the fag’s mouth for clean-up duties. Why don’t you go back to his cunt and add your load.

“Hey Coach, if you have to take a piss, just unleash in his toilet throat…. No? Well pick up your clothes and get going. You are free to go…. Damn! That’s one big smile. It’s either because you had a world class faggot drain your balls, or that you are not getting arrested…. Probably the later…. Go on. Get out of here.

“Reinhart! The faggot’s mouth is open. Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone you are as much of a fag as the cunt here. I haven’t told anyone anything in the past five years, I don’t plan on changing that. And I got enough video here for what I want. So you don’t have to worry about me filming you either.

“Look at the faggot. He want’s your cock.

“Hey Faggot. Is this the first cop cock?... No? Oh shit! We’ll have to come back to that another time. Look at the camera as Reinhart shoves his cock into your toilet mouth. Now that is the look of a natural born cocksucker.

“Foreman, that’s it! Ram that cunt. Hell yeah! Smack that ass again! Harder!... Damn you like making the faggot scream, don’t you…. Making bitches suffer gets me hard too…. You don’t have to wait for me to tell ya’, if you need to nut, nut away! Yeah, use those handcuffs as a handle. That’s some serious pile driving. Don’t worry that you are causing the faggot some pain and discomfort. That’s his issue not yours.

“Reinhart, get over here. Let the man do what he needs to the faggot to get off…. This is fucking hot, isn’t it? Look, your secret is safe with me. You live alone?... Good. After the foreman blows his wad, why don’t you take the fag cunt home? Finish using him there. Before you leave, send me the foreman’s contact info… as well as the coach’s.

“Look at that! Foreman’s getting close…. Relentlessly piling into that cunt. That’s a fuck machine of a man.

“GO FOR IT. BREED THAT FAGGOT’S CUNT! Fuck yeah. Make sure he cleans of your cock. Ha! Ha!

“When he pulls out of the faggot’s mouth, take the cunt back to your patrol car. Bring him to your home. I think to boy needs some one-on-one discipline. I want to hear all the details afterwards. Good…. He’s done. Take the fag out of here…. Holy shit! The fag is rock hard!

“Faggot, go with the officer. Don’t worry, daddy won’t find out. And you treat Reinhart well. Remember, I just took a video of you getting spit roasted. Don’t do anything stupid.

“Foreman! C’mere. That was amazing. Say, you into women too?... I’m always on the lookout of men who are willing to use and abuse my bitches with me. Is that something you would be interested in? Good, I’ll get your info from the officer. You like to fuck faggots too?... I get it; you just like to fuck, don’t ya? You don’t care about who the hole is attached to.

“You have any bitches on the side?... No? What about faggots?... You have a number on call? That’s one of the things I like admire about the fag lifestyle, they are so… available. It takes me some time to find an acceptable bitch.

“Are any of the ones you have like the faggot you just fucked?... I have to say, I had a hard-on watching you pound fuck the faggot’s cunt. I wanted in on the action. I really did. But fucking a fag is so foreign to me. I fuck bitches. But still you didn’t pull back when you were slamming into him. I want to do that. So, you have a faggot in mind?... Cool.

“I would never want to touch the Chief’s son. He carries too much baggage with him. And Reinhart, he’s a great guy, but I don’t know that much about him in this context. I will find out, but I don’t want to wait. You think you can call up a faggot for tonight? I’m so fucking horny…. I want to fuck some ass, and not a bitch’s ass. After watching the three of you fuck the fag, I need to try it out. But if I’m going to fuck an ass, I want my first time fucking a fag to be the way I want: aggressive and brutal.

“Do you have a faggot cunt to call? Why are you staring at me like that?... It looks like you are about to say something. Go on. Oh, wait a minute…. You want to be that faggot? You want MY dick in your ass. Don’t you?... What nothing to say? I’m right hunh?

“Hell yeah! Fuck yeah, I’ll fuck your cunt. If I’m fucking it, then it’s a cunt. I never would have thought that you took it up the ass…. I would have thought that you—

“What? You’ve never been fucked? Wait, so we will be each other’s first? Fuck yeah let’s do this. You have any plans for the rest of the day?... Cancel them.

“…Reinhart just sent me your contact info. You don’t live too far from me. You are a couple of blocks from this bitch I dumped last year. I guess you are going to step into her role, at least for tonight. Come closer….

“…Well you handled my face slap pretty good. This is what you can look forward to. I get rough, really rough. But I think you can handle it.

“Let’s go back to my place.“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

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