#wood - relief panels

[hungerpunch]

was informed today—by way of meeting invite—that i am going to have to import an entirely separate, additional site to the site i just took live after 18 months of hellish toiling and i rage blacked out so hard that when i came to, it was to a booking confirmation for a remote log cabin in rural michigan ☠️

#apparently i'm going to spend a long weekend in mid-march extremely isolated and surrounded by wood paneling #thank you michigan for having a very cheap off season i guess? #this does not rly address that i more immediately need relief or i'm going to explode. idk. #maybe i'll spend a very precious pto day taking this friday off. #i just haven't gotten a fucking break in god knows how long and people keep asking me why #bc compared to u bitches i have like no pto for the year >:( #driveby post #the kvetching department

[blackliberationcollective]

Enclosed - Dining Room Traditional enclosed dining room design with a dark wood floor and a typical fireplace

#wall art #dining room #ceiling light #wood dining table #transom window #relief wall panels

[woahjo]

APHRODISIAC! (Bakugou x Reader)

masterlist 

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Katsuki gets hit with an aphrodisiac quirk. You decide to check in on him. What could go wrong?

Chapter Content Warnings:  fem!reader, dubcon, smut, porn with little to no plot, aphrodisiac quirks, quirkless reader, prohero!katsuki, rough sex, borderline free use, biting, creampie, multiple orgasms (fem!receiving), masturbation, edging (kinda), manhandling, katsuki is dominant but also not idk he's desperate, possessiveness, overstimulation, size kink, scent kink, some light aftercare! woo hoo!, friends to lovers sort of

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: yeah ik this isn't what i typically write but idk where this came from. i had a thought and it spiraled bad and now i have this. there is no deeper message. there is no meaning. i wrote this to make him FUCK and be kinda weird and desperate and pathetic about it. i needed to see him physically overpower us while also so desperate that it makes him look stupid. i feel violent. this bad boy is not going on ao3 lol. anyway, enjoy, heed the warnings.

Katsuki paces around the one bedroom apartment he rents in downtown Musutafu. His skin is tingling. Every nerve he has burns like it's been set on fire, needing some sort of touch to soothe it. His cock aches between his legs, hard and leaking against the side of his thigh. Katsuki grits his teeth, running his hands over his hair and then letting his palms slide down the sides of his exposed biceps. 

Sweat collects on his skin, the kind that comes from desperation or maybe a fever, and he feels it on his palms when he lets them drop to his sides and clenches his fists. Fuck, he can't believe he got hit with a non-fatal quirk and had to be sent home. It's humiliating. What's worse is that it hasn't worn off yet, rendering him completely useless. 

He sits on his couch, his legs spread wide, and leans back against the couch cushions, wincing as he reaches to unbutton his pants. He's never been this sensitive in his life and it almost hurts to grab his cock and pull it from his pants. Katsuki watches it twitch for a moment, rigid between his legs and leaking pre-cum from its angry tip. He doesn't even have to think about anything in particular, he's just turned on. Unbearably so. 

Katsuki wraps his hand around the base of his cock and jerks upward once, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth at his own sensitivity. Then, the desperation sets in fully and he squeezes the head of his cock with a wince and a low groan before beginning to slide his hand up and down. He pauses to spit into his palm, desperate for some sort of relief from the tension weaving its way through his body, his hand moving faster and fast over this dick. Katsuki only pauses when he touches his overly sensitive head, swallowing down an audible moan as he moves his hips to desperately fuck his fist. 

He tries not to think of the humiliation in this, instead focusing on chasing a high that seems to get farther and farther. He stays like this for a while, desperately fucking his fist with low groans and whines. His face is completely flushed, sweat beading on his brow and forehead, covering every inch of his skin with a pathetic, glowing sheen. God, he's almost fucking angry. The frustration, the sheer desperation for release, is making it difficult to control his temper and he knots his free hand into the soft pillow beside him, raising it to his face and using it to cover his head so he can be a little louder. 

He's desperately humping his fist when his doorbell rings. At first, it's only once and Katsuki thinks he can ignore it, but then it comes again, five more times and consistently more aggressive. 

"Katsuki?" your voice calls through the wood paneling of his door. "I heard you got hit with a quirk and sent home. Let me in." 

He furrows his eyebrows at the irony of the last person in the world he wants to encounter at a time like this. Pretty, quirkless, you. His long time friend and recent dispatcher at his agency. Someone he secretly wants to fuck even without the aphrodisiac quirk floating through his bloodstream. You really get under his skin. You’re exactly his type, right down to that annoying little attitude of yours that drives Katsuki insane. Of course, he's always respected your friendship a little too much to do anything about it, but tonight, he doesn't think he'll be able to and he sits in silence with his lip caught between his teeth while he fucks his fists and hopes you'll go away. 

"I know you're in there," you call again. "I can see the light on." 

You bang three times on the door and then ring the doorbell again, pushy and insistent the way you always are. A match for his stubborn attitude. 

Katsuki swears and stands up, his hands shaking as he tucks his sensitive cock back into his sweatpants and flips the head up into his waistband with a hiss. 

The crazy thing is, he can literally smell you through the door. The scent of you, that sweet and rounded perfume you wear, wafts under the crack of his apartment door. He pauses outside of it, resisting the temptation to open it, to welcome that smell into his apartment and use you to relieve the aching in his cock and lower belly. 

"Katsuki?" You ask, a little quieter now. 

Jesus fucking christ, don't call his name like that. 

He swings the door open, letting his hand rest on the side of it so that it is positioned above his head. You look taken aback at his appearance, covered in sweat and flushed from the neck up, his chest exposed and heaving. 

"What?" he says, looking you up and down. 

Katsuki bites back the urge to yank you in. Why is it he can literally smell the sweat on your body and every prick of your emotions? It's like he can tell exactly what you're thinking, or maybe it's what he wants you to be thinking. 

"Don't get on my ass about me still technically needing to be at work," you start, stepping forward. "I heard something happened and I just came to check and you look like shi-" 

Katsuki blocks you from coming in with his body. You stumble backwards lightly and raise your eyebrow at him. There's a pause as you register that you've just run into a solid wall of muscle, sweat covered and glistening, while Katsuki eyes you like you're meat on a platter. He knows he's doing it, but he can literally smell every turn of your scent, soft and sweet. And he may be fooling himself... but are you... turned on? 

"Let me in?" you say with a small laugh, side stepping to go around him. He blocks you again, his fingers gripping the door frame so hard that his knuckles are white. 

"Go home," he says quietly, his voice tense. 

"What? No," you furrow your eyebrows at him. "What's the matter with you?" 

You duck under his arm and place your hand momentarily on his chest. Your touch makes him tingle all over and he sucks in a sharp breath. 

"I'm not fucking around," he says. 

"Okay, me neither," you respond with a bit of an attitude. "I expected you to be worse for wear but you look like crap. Like you're... I don't know." 

You trail off a little. 

"Let me help," you say, shaking off whatever thought had come over you. "I'll make you some food." 

"Look, no offense, but I don't think you want to help me with this," he says, a frustrated bite in his voice. Food isn't exactly what he's hungry for. 

"That's too bad," you say slowly, seemingly put off by the desperate air about him and settling into his kitchen. You move to open the fridge.

Katsuki walks up to you quickly, taking your wrist from the door and holding it between the two of you. Cool air hits his exposed chest and arm as the door falls shut again. 

"I'm dead serious. Get the fuck out of here or I'm gonna do something I regret," he hisses through a clenched jaw. Your skin is warm on the pads of his fingers, wrist held flush against his palm. He bites back a genuine shudder. 

Your eyes are wide as you look back at him, glancing between where he's caught your wrist by your head and his eyes. Katsuki's gaze roams over your face, pausing as he hits the top of your blouse where a few buttons remain open. When he returns his eyes to yours, your mouth moves to open before a heady understanding settles over your features. You're so pretty. Everything about you is pretty, so delightful and delicate. Your eyes look glassy and wide. Katsuki has always found them tempting, but today he can't stop himself. 

He leans forward and kisses you, holding your wrist to his chest as his mouth comes messily into contact with yours. You squeak and freeze and it takes all he has to pull away from you. 

"Go home," he says again, his lips tingling. Katsuki feels the color creep onto his cheeks, his hand still holding your wrist. 

You don't say anything, looking at him with those pretty eyes. He swallows thick and feels the saliva drag against his throat. Then, his mouth dries completely, his expression twisting into discomfort as his cock throbs between his legs as the scent of you takes on a sharper turn. He's never felt anything like this before, something animal. 

Katsuki tightens his jaw, staring at you for a moment. Then, he takes a step towards you. You take one back, though he doesn't feel like you're afraid. Rather, you tilt your head down to look at him through your lashes. He lets out a breath through his teeth and walks you back until your ass hits the counter, his free hand coming to gingerly touch your waist. You inhale when he leans in to kiss you again, screwing your eyes shut and reaching to grab at his shoulder to pull him closer. 

Every touch tingles. It burns and he drops your wrist to manhandle your hips. You suck on his bottom lip, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you. He ruts his hips against yours, desperate for any sort of friction to relieve the ache, and you gasp a little and let your mouth fall open. Katsuki takes the opportunity to bite down hard on your lip with a low groan, slipping his tongue into your mouth as the pads of his fingers press harshly into you. You whine, eyebrows pulling up. 

Katsuki’s eyes are slightly open, just so that he can look at you. Every aspect of his senses feel heightened and the relief of your mouth far surpasses that of his hand over his throbbing cock only minutes earlier. 

He pants, taking your hips and lifting you onto the counter so that you’re seated, pulling away for just a moment to lift the hem of your shirt and expose your breasts. Katsuki puts his face on the pillowy tops of them, biting and sucking at the exposed skin as his hand teases its way up the skin of your back to unclasp it. He thinks you’re probably looking at him, but if you are, he doesn’t have the mind to care about what sort of behavior he’s exhibiting. He can practically smell how wet you are from just a little touching and if he weren’t so fucking desperate for a little relief, he’d tease you for a few hours just to watch your pussy drool over him. 

The cool air of his apartment hits your exposed nipples. Katsuki takes it upon himself, without even a second thought, to roll the hard bud under his tongue. He feels the way goosebumps rise on your skin, his hands coming to rest over the tops of your thighs. Katsuki bites lightly on your breast and you fucking whine at it, tipping your head back and rooting your hand into the tufts of his blonde hair. 

His cock jumps in his pants and he’s no doubt leaked enough to leave an evident wet spot against the gray of his sweatpants. He stands to his full height, pushing your skirt up and pressing the outline of his cock to your crotch. Heat bleeds through your panties, the kind that makes him feel like he’s going absolutely fucking insane. You gasp, putting your hands on his shoulders and pulling him close again. 

Katsuki’s mouth hits yours messily, breathing hard as he ruts his hips up against your crotch, pulling you forward on the counter so he can feel as much of the pillowy folds of your pussy through the thick fabric as possible. You let him take your bottom lip between his teeth, sharp canines digging into the wet flesh of your mouth. He whines— high-pitched, desperate sound—as you position your hips to press your crotch against the head of his cock. His head falls onto your chest, forehead resting against the hollow of your throat. Katsuki humps at you, pulling you against him to match the rhythm of his hips, grinding your clothed cunt over the bulge of his cock. It’s a desperate motion, completely subconscious as he lets the quirk he’s been hit with take the lead.

His fingers dip into the crease of your thigh, fumbling as they reach for the waistband of the panties you’re wearing. Katsuki’s desperation is so palpable that he finds himself panting as he slips his fingers into the sides of your underwear, yanking them down. You gasp at the force of it and he swears he hears a small tear as he pulls them from your cunt, the crotch sticking to the lips of your pussy. 

He leans his hips forward again, sliding his cock between your folds with a deep grunt. His mouth finds your neck and he bites along the side of it, lathing his tongue over your pulse point. It’s like he can taste you. Salt and that stupid perfume, collecting on his tongue as you dig your fingers into his back, his dick rutting restlessly against your clit. At one point, he almost slips in, his eagerness and your wetness making him careless. Katsuki sucks in a breath through his teeth, his whole body on fire. 

The kitchen light shines down on his back and he can see the outline of part of his shadow on your thighs as he stares down at them, guiding the tip of himself to your entrance. He hears you wine when he presses against it and moves his hand down subconsciously to rub at your clit. An attempt to ease the stretch. 

You tip your head back in a moan and Katsuki takes the opportunity to kiss your neck before settling his teeth against your shoulder and biting down harshly on the muscle connecting your neck and arm. You yelp at the sensation and Katsuki shutters at the sound, willing out a choked I’m sorry as he slides into your wetness. His hands push into the delightfully soft flesh of your upper thighs, the fat spilling up around each individual digit as he uses your legs for leverage, sliding you forward even further to better seat you on him. 

Your legs are shaking and he can feel the way your nails dig into his exposed shoulder blades. Your bunch up skirt causes the fat of your tummy to fold over in a way that practically makes Katsuki drool. He urges himself to pause, attempting to come back to his senses as the quirk kicks into high gear. There’s relief in being inside of you, in feeling the flutter of your walls around his thick cock, but it also makes him desperate. Katsuki feels like he’s chasing something that he was desperately and it’s just out of his reach. 

You’re breathing heavily above him, he can see the rise and fall of your chest from where his head hangs down, his hands trembling on the tops of your thighs. He looks up at you through his lashes, his vision foggy around the edges as if he were peering through a tube. You’re at the end of it, your eyes glassy and mouth open, returning the look. Your eyebrows are knitted up in pleasure, but you almost seem confused. 

“What are you waiting for?” You breathe out, the first thing you’ve said since he started touching you. 

The tone of your voice is needy, with a delightful whiny lilt that makes him groan out loud. He can barely manage the words that come out next, his brain half mush, and he feels the way his cock jumps inside of you. 

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he says through gritted teeth, his breath coming heavy. 

There’s a pause and he feels the distinct sensation of you squeezing down around his cock, like the idea turns you on. 

“Use me,” you respond cautiously, your voice still containing that needy lilt. 

Katsuki’s hips fuck up into you voluntarily and he feels the way his breath catches in his throat at the near desperate sound of your voice.

“Say that again.” 

“Use me, Katsuki,” you respond, choking on your words as he fucks his hips up into you. 

You reach for his face, taking it in your hands and drawing it close until it’s just in front of yours. Then, your palms slide down his shoulders and he screws his eyes shut and fucks into you again, harder this time, causing your body to jolt upwards on the counter. 

He curses under his breath, pushing one leg further to the side and fucking his hips up into you roughly. You’re looking right at him, your expression drawn and pleasure-soaked, sweat collecting on your forehead as your mouth drops open into an o-shape. You punctuate his thrusts with high pitched yelps, squeaking out your pleasure and the deepness of where he’s hitting through choked moans. 

Katsuki’s hands move up your stomach to roughly cup your breasts, his mouth so close to yours that he’s practically breathing in the sounds you make in exchange for his own hurried groans. He kneads at the fat of your chest, rolling your breast under his fingers before taking your nipples and pulling lightly on them. 

He’s aware of just how rough he’s being, just how hard his hips are slapping yours, but he feels like he can’t stop. Katsuki chases a high so fucking desperate that his body is on autopilot, reaching and touching and moaning unabashedly as the room fills with the wet sound of his balls on the backs of your thick thighs. 

You push your chest forward towards him, legs spread wide to make room for the width of his hips between yours as he bullies that perfect sensitive spot inside of you. Katsuki feels the way he makes you flutter. Every shift of your body, every involuntary squeeze of your cunt as he drags his cock along your walls, registers as if he were a part of you. His skin tingles everywhere you touch and the drag of your nails over his shoulder blades makes him want to crawl into the deepest part of you. Even the sound of your voice, drawn and desperate and mildly overwhelmed, feels like a drug to him. Every sense he has seems to be acutely attuned to just how badly he needs to fuck your lights out. 

His hands slink down to your hips, resituating you and pulling you flush against him. Then, he drags his cock all the way out of you and quickly ruts back in, moaning as he does. His pace picks up, manhandling you forward on the counter until he is supporting most of your weight. You gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as you let him use you like a toy. 

Katsuki chases his high, his stomach seeming to wind tighter and tighter but never finding that perfect snap and release. His movements grow faster, using all of his strength to fuck his hips up into you, barreling his cock against your gummy walls and bullying your sweet spot. He feels the way you tighten down around him, your body tensing and fingers digging crescent moons into the tops of his shoulders. 

“Ka-” you choke out desperately, your voice breaking. “Wait, Katsuki, wait! I’m gonna-” 

You shudder, your thighs squeezing around him as he continues to fuck you. 

“Do it,” he seethes, “just fuckin’ do it.” 

The end of his sentence comes out as more of a whimper as you cry out and squeeze down around him, squirming in his grasp as you begin to twitch with every additional thrust. Your body shakes, legs locking around him and struggling to hold him inside as he fucks you clear through your orgasm and then to the other side. 

Katsuki’s voice breaks, almost whimpering like an animal as he buries himself in your pussy over and over again. He wants to smother you, he wants to completely cover your body and get as close as he possibly can. He’s already so much bigger than you, so much broader, how hard could it be to swallow you completely? 

Katsuki’s hands come up under your ass as he wordlessly lifts you from the counter and moves to the couch on desperate, shaky steps. He lays you down, slipping out of you for a moment, before pressing a hand to the inside of your thigh, spreading your legs, and sinking his cock back into you as he crowds his body over yours. 

“You know what?” He says, not really sure what’s going to come next. His head is so clouded with the quirk that he can’t think straight. “I’ve wanted to do this forever. I’ve wanted to fuck you for so- long-” 

He screws his eyes shut, almost angry with the way he can’t seem to hit that high, teetering on a desperate and near painful edge. 

“Those fuckin’ pencil skirts,” he says, unable to control his words or sharp tone. “The way you wear your hair, that damn look in your eye that constantly makes you seem like you’re beggin’ for it.” 

Katsuki whines, a sharp sound from the back of his throat, as you tighten up around him. He meets your gaze, clouded and watery eyes accented by the delightful furrow in the center of your brow. 

“And then you show up here,” he groans, not even sure of what he’s really saying. “Blouse unbuttoned, looking for trouble. I’m gonna fuck your lights out. ‘Till you can’t even think about fuckin’ anyone else.” 

He leans in close, his mouth right up against yours. 

“This is g’nna make you mine, right?” 

You nod, your movements clumsy, and pull him close to you. 

Katsuki loses all of his sense, burying himself in the feel of your pussy and the way he sinks into you, giving into the desperation of the quirk. He can feel just how deep he’s hitting, the way you suck in sharp, whiny breaths with every inward thrust. Katsuki’s hands grip your waist, pulling your ass up off the couch so that his angle is better. 

His cock seems to drag endlessly against your overstimulated, pillowy, insides and you practically drool around. He feels like a dog slobbering over meat, any semblance of politeness completely gone from both his expression and his movements. This is going to fucking ruin your friendship, but he doesn’t even have half of a mind to think about it, so drawn into the delightful feel of your body and the aching in his cock that only seems to subside slightly with every thrust. 

You try to choke out the word “again” and he feels like he knows what’s coming. Your whole body tenses, legs locking around him as you cream over his cock for the second time. 

This seems to get Katsuki somewhere, the sensation of your pussy clamping down finally giving him some leeway to relief. He hits the edge of an orgasm, leading himself to the finish line. 

The tension in his belly grows, cock twitching inside of your fucked out cunt. His fingers dig into your hips and he collapses forward, rolling his body so that the head of his cock catches perfectly inside of you, massaging and churning you up. You’re moaning, though maybe it’s more adjacent to whining, and Katsuki can hear himself mimicking the sounds, his body leading the way. 

Then finally, on a pathetic and broken whimper, Katsuki cums. His whole body tenses, weight pressing down on you as he buries his face into your neck and lets his voice out beside the hollow of your throat. The relief and pleasure is so intense that Katsuki feels the way every muscle in his body tenses and lets go, filling you up with as much of him as he has to give. 

His hips continue to pathetically rut into you, little choked moans escaping his lips as he uses his own cum as lube for his weak little thrusts. Then, he completely relaxes. 

Katsuki feels the way his skin stops burning, the way the desperation at the back of his throat subsides, how his body rids itself of the quirk as quickly as the arousal came on. He shudders, coming back to himself and raising his head to peer at your expression. 

You look exhausted, hair a mess and face covered in a thick sheen of sweat. You still flutter around his cock, your hands gripping his shoulders as you try and ride through the overstimulation of just having him inside of you. Katsuki furrows his brows, exhaustion creeping into his muscles. He raises his hand and uses it to push stray strands of hair from your face with his palm on your forehead. Then, with a clear mind, he leans forward and kisses you. 

You blink at him for a second, before giving a weak smile, raising your eyebrows and letting your head fall to the side. Katsuki winces when he pulls out of you, sucking in a sharp breath and standing to his full height. He places a hand on his forehead like he’s assessing the situation, staring at your body, still fully clothed with your skirt pushed all the way up your stomach and your blouse missing a button at the top. 

He wordlessly walks to the bathroom and wets a washcloth with warm water, walking back over to you and wiping down the exposed parts of your body. You don’t really say anything to him, but you smile quietly while he gingerly wipes you down, your smeared makeup accenting just how much of a mess he’s made. 

“Fuck,” he says. “I’m sorry, this isn’t how-” 

“How you wanted this to go?” You say softly, the corners of your lips turning up. 

Katsuki feels the way he flushes, all the way to the tops of his chest. 

“No, it’s not,” he admits, running a hand over his face as he crouches beside you. 

You laugh a little and he furrows his brows at you, frustrated and embarrassed. 

“You’ve got a bit of a possessive streak, huh?” You tease lightly.

“I got hit with some asshole’s fuckin’ quirk and-” he begins explaining himself, something he probably should have done when you showed up at the door. 

“It was good though,” you say, tilting your head at him from where you lay.

Katsuki blinks at you, his expression completely flat. You should really know just how fucking crazy you drive him. Then, he scowls a little, not because he’s upset, but because he’s currently feeling the opposite and that makes him awkward. 

“You’re into that shit?” He says, a bit incredulously. 

You shrug and give him a coy smile. 

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tw.dubcon #tw.biting #tw.free use #tw.overstimulation #tw.size kink #tw.scent kink #idk what this is #it’s a little ficlet I suppose #AND SO DIFFERENT FROM WHAT I USUALLY WRITE I FEEL LIKE #ANY IM NERVOUS ENJOY #cal.writing

[michelepoehler]

Milwaukee Kids Bathroom

#Bathroom - mid-sized transitional kids' bathroom with beige floor #recessed-panel cabinets #dark wood cabinets #granite countertops #and a one-piece toilet. Beige walls and brown countertops complete the room. gray square tiles #wood vanity #ceramic tile shower #living large #interesting tile #tile relief #kids

[mytheoristavenue]

BES Mizu x Reader - Tranquility

Summary: One evening, two odd fellows walk into your father's inn, requesting keep.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Reader believes Mizu is male, comfort, angst, use of he/him and she/ her pronouns for Mizu depending on POV

Humming gently, you busied your hands, bustling about the front room of your father's humble inn, dusting, polishing, sweeping- anything to pass the time. With your back turned, you hardly noticed the pair of men that wandered in, ducking under the curtain entrance.

"Welcome in!" you chirped over your shoulder, hearing footsteps approach the counter. Hurrying over and behind it, you turned to face them with a warm grin. "Good afternoon, sirs. How may I be of service?"

"We need a room," the shorter one said. He was significantly more slender than his companion and wore looser clothing and a wide kasa that obscured his face. "Two beds."

You nodded obediently. "Of course sir, and for how many nights?"

"One." He answered sternly, angling his head even deeper down.

"Alright," you processed his answer, making note of it. "And will you be requiring meals or would you prefer to dine elsewhere?"

"Here is fine," he replied, digging into a pocket to retrieve a sachel of currency. "Two dinners and two breakfasts. How much?" You quickly added up the total for the stay and four meals and told him what the charge was. To your surprise, he dropped even more in front of you. "I like my privacy, other than meal service, make sure no one disturbs me."

"Of course, sir!" you nodded profusely, swiftly making sure their payment was in the right place, before coming out from behind the counter. "Allow me to escort you to your room!"

-----

Now alone and behind closed doors, the pair of travelers began laying down their luggage, stretching from the relief of no longer having to carry their belongings on their backs. "Ringo," Mizu said suddenly, leaning her sword against a nearby wall as she sat down. "Go out and get us some more provisions, it'll be a while before we get to another village after we leave. Take this," Glancing up at her apprentice, she handed over a list of supplies and the same sachel of gold she'd paid with moments ago. "I'm going to rest while you're out, so try not to disturb me when you get back."

"Yes, master!" The man said seriously, a bit too much so as he saluted her before leaving. The samurai simply rolled her eyes at his unknowingly silly gesture and sighed.

It wasn't long into her quiet time that she was distracted by the softest knock on the wood frame of the door. "Service," your gentle voice called from the other side. Scoffing, Mizu called back, granting you permission to enter.

-----

You smiled when you heard the gentleman call back 'Enter.', sliding the panel away and lifting a tray from the floor before carrying it into the room. "Your meal tonight will be soba, but it won't be ready for a good while. I thought I'd bring you and your companion some refreshments in the meantime. Complementary, of course."

"Do all your guests get treated to free refreshments before dinner?" he asked, suspiciously, sitting cross-legged at a table in the center of the room.

"Well..." you blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you fell to your knees beside him. "Not exactly. Your meal will come with tea and sake, but I wanted to show my appreciation for..."

"You wanted to earn the extra money I gave you." he deduced. "I gave you that in exchange for leaving me alone so, admittedly, you aren't doing a very good job of earning it so far. I'd prefer you to respect my wishes than to bother me with special treatment."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment and rejection. "I-I'm sorry," you sputtered, reclaiming the few things you'd set on the table in preparation to return the tray to the kitchen. "I'll just take this back, didn't mean to offend."

"Wait, you can stay." The mysterious man sighed, bringing his hand up and pressing his palm to the top of his kasa, removing it. Underneath it was silky midnight hair, tied back in a taught bun, with a rogue strand that framed his face. Though, most striking about his appearance, were his glasses. They were round and petite with an onyx frame and amber lenses. Noticing your attention, his eyes darted towards you. "Haven't you ever been told that staring is impolite?"

Shaking your head furiously, cheeks once again aglow, you returned to your current task. "Deepest apologies! I was only observing your glasses, they are-"

You could feel his glare on you intensify even with your gaze away. "They're what?"

"P-Pretty..." you muttered truthfully, instantly regretting using such a feminine adjective to describe something a man wore. "They're a nice color is all..."

The man shifted backward, seemingly surprised by your compliments, and for just a moment, his harsh demeanor faltered a bit. "Well...thank you," he muttered bashfully before clearing his throat and darting back into his shell upon noticing that you were beginning to pour a cup of sake. "Just tea," he corrected sternly. "I don't drink."

You straightened at his comment, pausing for a moment. "Apologies," you nodded, setting the vessel back down on the tray to remind yourself to take it back with you when you leave. "I don't believe I've ever served a man who didn't prefer sake." you mused with a small smile.

"I'm not other men," he answered shortly.

"Yes, you're entirely different..." you sighed with glowing cheeks, pouring his tea. "You're a true and honorable gentleman, I can tell."

For the first time since the pair had come in, the traveler smiled- smirked even. It was a cocky look that sent a shiver down your spine when you glanced up and his found sharp amber eyes staring back. "You're quite forward for a service girl, aren't you?"

Your eyes blew wide at his comment and your cheeks caught fire which spread even to the tips of your ears. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to speak so freely!" Somehow in your anxious haste, you'd lost your grasp on the tea kettle in your hand, and you quickly lunged forward to catch it, luckily saving it before it could spill- or worse, shatter.

Unfortunately, your cheer for victory was incredibly short-lived by the hiss of your guest, who had begun tugging his clothes away from his body. Stream rose from his torso and you went pale. It seemed that, in your rush to catch the kettle, you'd reached over the table and knocked the freshly poured cup of hot tea into the poor man's stomach.

Without a second thought, you immediately crawled over, pulling a handkerchief from the chest of your kosode and began dabbing at his chest and stomach, profusely apologizing all while. You could feel him tense beneath your touch, rigid an no longer wriggling form the discomfort of the steaming liquid coating his skin. To his horror, in your haste, you began to tug at his sleeves, pulling them off his shoulders slightly.

"I'm so very sorry, sir!" you cried, beginning to disrobe him. "I'm so clumsy! I swear I'll make this right, let me just-" you continued, untying his belt, his protests completely lost on you in your panicked state. "I'll take your clothes and launder them, free of charge! A-And I'll get you a full refund on your stay!"

"N-no, please," the man began to tremble, breath caught in his throat as you inched him closer and closer to nudity. "It's fine, all's forgiven, there's no need to-" His hands felt heavy as he tied to pry you away, and by the time he'd gathered the ability to calm himself, you'd already stopped. You were entirely frozen as the fabric of his shirt felt from your hand.

"I-I..." you sputtered, unsure of what to say, or even if to speak at all. You'd rather just stay frozen.

"I-I appreciate the offer to launder my clothes, but please," the traveler gave an exacerbated sigh, "Let me undress myself."

You slowly nodded, never breaking eye contact as he gripped his garment closed and gingerly traced the hem of it and where it fell on his chest. Suddenly, out of his peripheral, he watched you lift something off the floor, setting the object in his lap. Then he realized, you weren't looking at his body. Glancing down, he noticed his glasses, folded neatly and resting in the creased crotch of his baggy pants.

"Get out." he snapped, finally putting himself into gear. "I will leave my clothes outside my door for you to wash. Have them back to me as soon as possible. And yes, you will be refunding my stay." he seethed as you instantly jumped up and hurried out of the room.

-----

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mizu stressed, pacing the room, and tugging at her hair. Her instincts were screaming at her to run, but her clothes were ruined, she'd at least have to wash them in some creek somewhere. But then, what about Ringo? She could leave him, but knowing him, he'd find her and lecture her about the importance of facing your problems instead of running from them. She'd forced you out before she'd had a chance to read your reaction, but then again, she'd never experienced a good one. You were probably on your way to tell someone- or worse, inform authorities on her whereabouts.

Even worse, she could her her chest bindings beginning to soak with tea, creating a terrible moist feeling between her breasts. She'd have to change the bandages, lest her skin begin to chafe. With every odd stacked against her leaving, she decided to stay. You only knew of her eye color, after all. At least you hadn't figured out all of her secrets.

All she had to do was keep her body hidden and charm you into not telling about her eyes, she could do this. You were tripping all over yourself over one snarky comment, surly she could convince you to keep quiet, right?

I hope you guys enjoyed this, there will be a part two coming (hopefully) soon, which I will link in this post when it is finished! Please like, comment, and reblog if you like this, it really helps encourage me to continue, and with this being a fandom for me to write for, it helps a lot to know what y'all interact with most!

#mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #ringo blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #mizu x reader blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai fanfic #mizu x fem!reader

[slythgeek]

Last time I was in Washington, I walked over a mile to go see HER again.

J. William Fosdick, Adoration of St. Joan of Arc, 1896, fire etched wood relief, three panels, each: 109 3⁄4 x 49 1⁄2 in. (278.8 x 125.7 cm.), Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of William T. Evans, 1910.9.8

#j William fosdick #saam #the adoration of st. Joan of arc #art

[rustedhearts]

crush (college!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: academic distraction comes in the form of one tall, handsome brunet named steve.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the scholar stud masterlist ✶ main masterlist

tags: college!steve, college!reader, fluff, a little cringe sometimes, steve's a cocky douche, smut!! silly ending because i just wanted to finish it.

a/n: why, yes. the notorious college steve has returned for this one day. i hope you enjoy his rebirth.

somewhere in indiana, october 1988. tillman university.

"And that concludes today's class. Folks, don't forget the exam tomorrow, bright and early eight a.m—"

The shuffle of notebooks and folders being swept from plastic desks drowned out the bellow of Professor Brown's instructions as the class scurried to leave. Everyone knew the pub just on the edge of campus was hosting 'Beer Olympics' tonight, and most of your classmates couldn't risk losing out on even one moment in that sticky, wood-paneled bar.

Including the handsome, silky-haired Steve Harrington, who sat in front of you and chewed on his pen for the entire hour of English 231: British Literature. At first, the incessant clicking of teeth against plastic and ink drove you insane.

But once, he whirled around when the cap went flying and landed on your desk, and the smile he passed you seemed sweet and bashful. The rosiness on his cheeks pretty, the hazel of his eyes against the fluorescents dreamy. He started murmuring to you during class discussions, begging for explanations on 'what the hell that Shakespeare guy was talking about.'

Steve Harrington might've shared a love for the stupid and the insane like the rest of the population on Tillman's campus, but he had the good grace to display it such a wonderful way that you didn't even mind.

You shuffled back to your dorm, bundled in a scarf and wool-lined coat, prepared to settle cozily into bed and study for tomorrow's test—your roommate, however, had other ideas.

"I need you to come with me," she whined as you removed your layers and tossed them on the bed. "This is my one chance for James to see how hot I am."

A cackle shot from your mouth, though you softened to pity as your roommate's shoulders drooped. James was her very own Steve: handsome, a year or two her senior, and a complete academic distraction. Her attempts to get his attention have lengthened weeks now, but all to no avail.

"I don't know...I have an exam tomorrow—"

"Oh, God, please," she groaned, falling back on her bed across the room. The springs yipped. "Chaucer is more important than the state of my love life?"

"What is the state of your love life?"

"Dead!"

You bit back a grin, swallowing all amusement when your roommate rolled onto her side and frowned at you. Like a little sister begging to be included, she rounded her eyes and jutted her lip.

"C'mon, please?" she whined. "You can bring your stuff to study, I'm sure there's a quiet corner. They have food, too! Come on, I'll buy you shitty bar wings!"

Eyeing her weepy, desperate eyes and your piles of highlighted notes, you mulled over the options with half-hearted sincerity. You were 95% sure you would ace this exam tomorrow, and the study session was for 'just in case.' Who were you to stand in the way of your roommate's apparent true love?

"And onion rings," you added.

Bouncing into a seated position, your roommate beamed and clapped her hands together sharply. "Anything."

✶ ✶

"Okay, here." Two plastic baskets of sticky barbecue wings and crispy, golden onion rings slid your way across a poorly-cleaned wooden hightop. "Are you good by yourself over here? I saw James by the pool table."

Grinning like a toddler with a treat, you reached for a wing with gentle fingers and nodded. "Yep, I'm perfect. Go get your man!"

Relief flooded her features, all dolled up and sparkly. She popped a quick kiss to your cheek and spun around, sweeping a hand over her hair to tame the frizz.

"Okay, I'm going in."

You watched her trot away in heels she could barely squeeze into with a giggle. She eased her way into a group of people near the pool table, lingering close enough to the blond-haired James without seeming desperate. You'd seen your roommate dizzy-headed around plenty of men before, but James turned her into something else.

The corner she found you was as quiet as a bar corner could be at eight o'clock on the night of a campus-wide event. Purses and backpacks piled in the corner of your booth, potently scented with sweet perfume and cigarette smoke. The lights were low back here, and most of your notes came scanned in the neon blue glow of the Budweiser sign hanging behind your head. Once your eyes adjusted to the hue, and the rowdy buzz of your peers faded away, you honestly found enjoyment in your little corner.

Until—

"Well hello, Oh studious one," a voice bellowed over the noise. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Steve Harrington, handsome, pink-cheeked, and a little bleary-eyed, sauntered toward your table with a beer in hand. He bent over your textbook, elbows creasing the onion skin pages, and flashed you a sideways grin. You thanked the blue lights for concealing the heat in your face.

"I'm quite surprising."

He chuckled, condensation dripping from the amber bottle in hand when he pointed the mouth of it toward the contents of your table. "And you're...reading. At a bar."

You clicked your pen, swiping a lukewarm onion ring from its basket. "I'm studying for our test tomorrow."

Steve lifted his gaze from the book, returning it to your face—his own blank and thoughtless. He's slow to lift the lip of the beer bottle to his mouth, and the swig he takes comes with furrowed brows.

The bottle pops away with a sharp release of suction. "Test?"

Giggling, you slap your hand onto your book. "Are you serious? Professor Brown just told us about it, like, four hours ago."

Steve straightened up, removing himself from your book. A large hand swept over the top of his hair, darkened with dampness from the exertion of Beer Olympic seriousness.

"Ohhh, that test," he snarked. "The test on...."

He trailed so far you worried he'd get lost, and as you tipped your chin down and fixed him with an incredulous look, you had mercy on him. "Chaucer."

Steve blinked again, eyes as glazed over and empty as a doe's. "Who?"

You succumbed to your amusement, a chorus of giggles bubbling over. "You're helpless."

Steve shrugged, cheek meeting his shoulder with an air of coolness. His body tipped sideways, one elbow returning to its place on your wrinkled pages to lean his weight on the table.

"Maybe so."

You took a small bite of your onion ring, which had lost all its crisp, and took your turn to blink blankly. But the boy was patient, knuckles rapping on the table in an offbeat tune as you lingered in the pause. Finally, overcome by his own impatience, Steve set his bottle on the table and slid even closer. You could feel the warmth of his body, exuding alcohol-laced sweat and a back alley cigarette soaked into the dampness of his t-shirt. Black cotton, thinned with sweat, drenched in leathery cologne applied hours ago.

"Maybe...you could help me then," he suggested, tone sauced with boyish charm.

Heat flooded your face like a dam bursting, rushing like a hot-blooded throb. You shifted on the sticky booth, boots clunking together beneath the table. The bits of soggy breading balled in your throat.

"I—" You swallowed, hands gripping the booth beneath you with urgency. "I-t-that could—"

Steve plucked his beer bottle from the table, sliding a step away from the table. His friends crowded around the pool table, where your roommate and her very own version of Steve were pressed against the wall, murmuring in close proximity.

"So, tomorrow?" He took another shuffled step back, a glint in his eye like he already knew his work was done.

He had you.

You swallowed again, tongue darting out to wet your dry mouth. "But...the test will be over by then."

Steve cupped his hand around his ear, eyes squinting as you grew smaller with every step back. "What? I can't—you're so far away! I can't hear you."

Amusement glimmered through, shattering your stunned stupor and bringing you back to life. Another mindless giggle tumbled from your mouth, and Steve savored it as he turned just enough to miss your pretty face.

"See you tomorrow!" he called.

You watched the plain of his broad back make its way into the crowd again, falling into a chorus of hoops and hollers and flushed, sticky bodies. You watched him douse himself in beer from a poorly-crafted beer bong held by a sloppy drunk. You watched him until you felt like a giddy schoolgirl, and did your best to return to your work and wait to take your leave.

And Steve stole glances when he knew you were no longer looking, hoping you'd really show.

✶ ✶

"I can't believe this is happening."

"I'm already nervous enough, please stop saying that."

"I'm sorry!" your roommate shrieked, hands slapping against her cheeks as she watched you fix your hair for the millionth time in the mirror on the floor. "I just...I just can't."

"Okay, but you can tell me if my outfit is good. Is it-is it okay? What does it say to you?"

You hopped to your feet, whirling around to show your carefully crafted outfit. You spent all night holding your roommate's hair back and pondering over your outfit in your head; daydreaming about what Steve would say once he had you in his dorm room, which he slipped by your table with beer-laced instructions to meet him at when the night dwindled down.

Now here you were, clammy palmed and losing your mind. Was this some sort of trick? A dare? Was he playing a joke on you?

“It says: ‘I want Steve Harrington to fuck me.’ But in a very chic, understated way.”

Huffing, you did your best to ignore the swirl in your belly at the thought of Steve mirroring your roommate’s beliefs.

“I’m leaving. You’re no help,” you half-heartedly scolded, swiping your bag on the way toward the door.

But if Steve Harrington wanted to fuck you, you certainly had no objections.

He had a sloppily scrawled sign on his dorm room door declaring it his place of residence (and whoever the hell Eddie Munson was). You swallowed as you brought your knuckles to the wood, smoothing your hair once more as footsteps shuffled behind it. It swung open with a gust of warm, woodsy air. His cologne filled the room like a potent candle, and you took a brief moment to suppress a cough before taking in his smooth, half cocked grin.

“Hey, pretty,” he drawled, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms.

Huffing a laugh, you fiddled with the strap of your bag over your shoulder. “Hi, Steve.”

Steve took a moment to drink you in, tongue inching between his lips to wet it as he shuffled back a step. His hand pushed the door open all the way, revealing a recently-cleaned bedroom adorned with two double-twins and a desk warm with amber lamplight. You immediately knew which posters were his—all sports related and signed.

“Come on in, get comfy.”

You took tiny steps inside, shivering when he breezed by in another whoosh of air to close the door behind you. The heat of his body, lingering close behind as you inspected the room, nipped at that gooey, mushy part of you that ached for him. The same part of you that rendered you a distracted, brainless mess in class when he spoke or flexed that strong arm with a grip around his pen.

“Thirsty?”

Whirling around, you found Steve standing near the desk, watching you with fixed and glinting hazel eyes.

Your face warmed twenty degrees. “Sorry?”

He motioned toward a mini fridge under the desk, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Something to drink?”

You breathed a laugh, swinging your bag off your shoulder. “Oh, um, sure.”

You had to look away when he bent to pull it open, the strain of tendons and cords of muscle in his tan, lean arms enough to make your mouth pool with water. Christ, you were ridiculous. You turned toward the dark, black fabric-clad side of the room where his roommate must’ve lived.

“So, um, the test was pretty easy this morning, but we can still—“

“Look at you. God, you’re so beautiful.”

The cold condensation of a Coke can pressing against your arm was the first to startle you—whirling around with a sharp-edged gasp. Then the sound of his words, rasped behind your ear, bringing goosebumps to your skin. His body, so close you could feel his warmth, smell the mint on his freshly-brushed teeth.

Standing this close, you could feel his breath tickle your cheeks, could see the shiny sheen of spit on his mouth from his tongue.

"W-what?"

Steve just shook his head, a dumfounded wonderment glistening in his eye. "You heard me."

Your jaw slackened, lips parting to utter some stupefied response, mind turning to soupy mush at the sudden proximity. Before you could even attempt some silly, bashful disagreement, Steve collected your chin in his hand. Pinched between gentle fingers, he guided your mouth up to his own until their softness touched.

The Coke can clattered to the ground and rolled toward the desk as his mouth closed over yours. You perked on your toes, fingers curling into fists as they lifted toward his shoulders, broad and firm. You couldn't believe this was happening. You always thought he tossed you looks during class, that he might've lingered a little too long when he walked to his desk just to watch you sit there.

You never imagined it could be true. That Steve Harrington wanted you the way you wanted him.

“You could’ve,” an interruption of kisses stopped you short, the click of spit and lips echoing off cinderblock, “at least…mm, pretended—oh! T-to study.”

“Couldn’t wait,” Steve mumbled against your mouth, teeth scraping your bottom lip, breath hot against your tongue.

Arousal flushed hot in your body, stomach squeezing in time with the fluttered successions of excitement provoked by his roaming hands. They stroked down your arms and toward your waist, slipping through the curves to hold you firmly. Another gasp bled into his open mouth when he tugged you close.

"This is so much better than Chaucer," he breathed, mouth sliding over your lips to your cheek where he pressed a firm and sloppy kiss.

"Mhm," you pipped dazedly, head tipping to follow his affections.

Thighs bumping the edge of the bed, you allowed Steve to guide you onto the black duvet of the mattress behind you. It rumpled with the hurried shuffle of bodies climbing over. Steve tugged you by the calves when you met the pillow, pulling you flat beneath him. He dipped with eager excitement to collect another kiss as your thighs bookended his hips.

"Test was already graded," Steve muttered, nudging your jaw with his nose to move it aside and fit his head in your neck. "Got...mm...eighty-five."

Heaving for air, you ruffled your fingers through the thickness of his hair: soft and slipping between your hands like silk. Blinded by the tingling buzz reverberating through your bones, you could barely form a thought, let alone a sentence aloud. Steve's lips suctioned to the column of your throat, and your body gave a jolt.

"Th-thought you didn't know anything."

Steve chuckled, and the sound grumbled through you like a firework. You gave another jerk, fingers twisting in his hair, hips canting up against the firmness of his jeans.

"M' not stupid," he mumbled into your neck, nipping with gentle teeth at your earlobe. "Just so distracted. Can't stop thinkin' 'bout you behind me."

"Oh, Steve," you scoffed, eyes opening blearily to blink at the tiled ceiling, browned with old water stains. His hair tickled your cheek, cologne bathing you in masculine comfort.

Steve lifted his head, peering down at you with rosy cheeks and swollen lips. "You don't believe me?"

You let your hands fall from his hair, smoothing over the firmness of his shoulders. The stretch of your thighs around him began to burn in the most delicious way, and the tufts of chest hair slipping from his grey t-shirt made you shift on the bed. You wanted him. Like a mad woman, some nymphomaniac, lust-ridden fiend.

"I don't know," you sighed, running a finger down his chest. "Let's just...talk about it later."

Steve watched you a moment, eyes scanning your face with scrutiny. When heat swelled in your flesh, his lips coiled into a grin, eyes alight with amusement.

"Ohhh, I see. Poor little baby just can't wait. Y' want me, pretty girl?"

You bobbed your head fervently, the beginning of a pout even toying with your lips. He rendered you ridiculous and stupid, and later, you might've even felt embarrassed about how easy it was for Steve Harrington to have you whining.

But right now, all you cared about were his hands, big and rough and warm to the touch, taking off your shirt.

"Don't worry, honey," Steve cooed breathlessly, eyes traveling to the newly exposed flesh. "You've got me."

As his hands explored and grabbed at flesh, your own slipped beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, splaying over the soft skin beneath. He was quick to shed himself of the layer, and you did your best to admire the build revealed as he trailed kisses between your breasts. He led them all the way down to your navel, and then over the curve of flesh leading to the waistband of your pants. Steve hooked his fingers in the belt loops and tugged harshly, practically ripping them from your thighs and down over your feet.

He captured his lip between his teeth as he settled between your legs again, fingers pinching and kneading at the flesh like soft dough. "And I've got you. Ain't that right?"

You grew dizzy with your nodding, so petulantly desperate and pleading. Steve grinned at it, index tracing the lace of your underwear with explorative wonderment as he watched your eyes well up. He was certain if he prolonged your pleasure any more, he'd have you weeping.

"Don't cry, honey," he soothed, peeling your panties off by the lace band. "Steve's gotcha."

In the back of your mind, you rolled your eyes and giggled at the ridiculous confidence Steve seemed to think he could get away with—but in reality, you were too busy lifting your hips to meet Steve's fingers, brushing just gently over your core as he undid his belt with the other hand. The buckle clinked and clunked with a toss, clattering to the tile floor somewhere near Steve's side of the room, where your backpack and all its contents spilled in the erotic chaos of Steve's impatience.

When the pair of you were bare, Steve breached the distance—flesh on flesh exuding heat that glistened in a haloed sheen. His mouth worked over yours a while longer, melting you down just a little more into absolutely nothing. Hands coaxing your limbs to release their tensions, your muscles to relax and ease into him. You trusted him more than anything, warmed by his gentle affections. No man had ever been so sweet and slow.

The crinkle of foil came like tv static, muffled and low. And then something larger than his fingers was brushing your core, slipping through the slickness pooling. He rubbed the tip along your most sensitive, delicate spot just enough to have you whimpering and twisting, before sliding into your entrance with slow, meticulous purpose.

Steve groaned as he pushed further, forearms planted on either side of your head. Your thighs quaked against his ribs, hoisted high and holding on tight. You reached for his hair again, desperate for more of him.

"You okay, honey?" Steve mumbled against your cheek, fanning hot breath into your ear.

You shivered at the grumble of his voice rattling through you, nodding once more. "Y-yeah. Keep going, please."

He huffed a chuckle, shifting his hips to push a little deeper and revel in the gasp you shot out.

"Please," he mocked, kissing your damp cheek. "So sweet."

When he sank in completely, you could've sworn you saw the light. A burning sting that had you writhing crawled through your thighs and up your back, settled even deep in your stomach where the thickness of him rested. He nuzzled into your neck with a low grunt of relief, giving you the space of his back to run your fingers down and kiss mindlessly. Steve seemed to be no better, losing himself in the warmth of your body wrapped around him.

"Steve, please."

Your voice stirred him from his hazy, lust-drunk stupor; he quickly readjusted to lift off his arms.

"Shh, shh, 've got you."

Like revving an engine, Steve gave a few short thrusts before settling into a pace of slow, deep humps that came like timed successions. You gasped and groaned with every one, nails biting into the warm, clammy skin of his shoulders. Once he knew you were satisfied and free of discomfort, Steve took his moment to brush your hair out of your face with a heavy, sweeping palm. He peppered kisses all over your face, delicate brushes of his mouth over your eyelids and nose, firmer across your mouth and cheeks.

Who knew Steve Harrington would be so sweet?

“Knew you’d feel so good,” he whined into your ear, pace quickening a bit with eagerness.

“So good,” you parroted, a high pitched and nasally lilt congealing your voice.

But he was just that good.

The room quieted to a blend of slick skin clicking and the bated, hoarse breaths of erotic thrill. You weren’t sure how long it truly went on, but the world just fell away around you. Blackened in a vignette of vision, hazed over with heavenly satisfaction. Your body buzzed in some muffled, distant way—you felt like just a mind in a body, being taken away. It was hard to focus on anything other than Steve, rocking into you and leaving kisses on your neck.

When your hiccuped breath shifted to sharp mewls, clawed from somewhere deep in your chest, Steve reared back and steadied his hands on your hips. He slowed to a glacial pace, watching his own cock prod at the flesh beneath your navel, your own slickness gather at his pelvis. He brought his thumb to your clit, pressing firmly into the delicate nub to focus a gentle, circular massage. You twisted and writhed like a woman enraged with demonic possession, and your grip on his forearms felt like something out of The Exorcist.

But it was all worth it to watch your face balloon with heat, flooding every vein with scorching pleasure until air became nothing but a lifeline. Steve was glad to even press pause on his own pleasure just to see you summit. Your chest trembled with a quaking roar, limbs succumbing to weakness in the daze. Vision clouded with grey static, streaked with a pool of tears.

When you were positively spent, Steve carefully unsheathed, squeezing his fist around his cock with firm pressure and bringing it to hover over your stomach.

“This okay, sweetheart?” he managed to grit out, neck bulging with veins, cheeks growing red.

You could barely nod, swiping your hand through the thin layer of sweat along his arm. “Uh-huh.”

“Oh God—fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Warmth splattered across your abdomen, like a gentle flicker of water across your skin. The squelching sound of Steve fucking his fist died down, mirroring the dwindle of moans and groans from the boy himself. He fell forward heavily, catching himself with one hand beside your head. His nose brushed your cheek, catching his breath against the clammy skin.

“Christ,” he heaved, jutting a lazy kiss to the corner of your mouth. “We owe Chaucer a big one.”

Before you could giggle or scoff, the door swung open with a chittering screech. Steve scrambled to grab the comforter and shield your bare, sticky bodies, both your heads snapping toward the doorway as a shaggy-haired boy stomped through: his roommate.

“Harrington, what the fuck?”

#rolly! #steve harrington #college!steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve the hair harrington #joe keery #steve harrington x female reader smut #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington au #stranger things

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Crazy Forever || LN4

Summary: The truth always comes out in the end. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, dub/con, dark themes WC: 1.3k F1 Masterlist || Part One (Crazy For you) || Part Two (Crazy For You Too) || Part Three (Crazy For The Three Of Us) || Part Four (Crazy Forever)

“Stay,” Lando begged as he curled an arm around your waist. “I want cuddles.”

“I have to go, I’m going to be late,” you said with a yawn. It had been another bad sleep and you put it down to the lack of sleep tea that used to knock you out cold, but you couldn’t stay in bed all day. “You should get up too, you have to pack for Australia.”

He groaned and he sat up, the blankets fell to his lap as he stretched his arms above his head. “Don’t remind me. You do realise you don’t have to work, love.”

“Don’t, we have been over this, Lan. You already pay for everything and it’s too much. I want to pay for the baby things with my own money.”

“It’s my baby too.”

“It was still my fault,” you mumbled as you left the room. 

You were called into the HR meeting room almost immediately after arriving and you sat down with a frown as your boss avoided all eye contact. 

“What’s going on?” you asked quietly as your palms began to sweat.

Your boss's cheeks turned pink and he slid his phone onto the table, a picture you recognised on the screen. Nausea rolled through you as you slapped your hand over the screen to hide the image but everyone had already seen it. “Where did you get that?”

“You sent it to me.”

“No, I didn’t,” you argued as you covered your mouth. 

“Yes, you did,” he muttered as he took the phone back and showed you the contact number. It was yours, and it was sent while you had been driving to work. “I know you are going through some things but this is unacceptable.”

“No, really, I didn’t send this. I-I don’t know how it happened but it wasn’t me.”

Your boss sighed heavily and looked at the HR manager. “I think it is best if you take the rest of the week off and we will schedule a formal meeting for next Monday. If you decide to hand your notice in before then it will be accepted without this going onto your record.”

You knew what he was saying between the thinly veiled threats and you reached for the small paper bin before retching your breakfast into it. A look of pity came over their faces and a handkerchief floated across the table for you to wipe your lips. “Thank you,” you mumbled as you rose from the table, despite wanting to throw the trash can at them. “I’ll send my resignation through today.”

“It’s for the best this way,” he said as he deleted the nude photo Lando had begged for when he was away testing in Bahrain. He had promised it was just for him, because he missed you so much.

You really shouldn’t have driven home in your state. You could hardly see the road through the humiliating tears that streamed down your face. 

“Lando?” 

You sighed with relief when you found the apartment empty as you weren’t sure you could face him at that moment. You didn’t know how he had done it, or why, but there was no one else who had the picture.

You would have sold your soul for a drink as you changed out of your work clothes and flopped onto the bed feeling miserable. You would have stayed there if it wasn’t for your phone vibrating with a notification, and you noticed an echo coming from Lando’s closet. You climbed over the bed and opened the door, listening for any other sound. It was quiet, but you heard it coming from under his clothes drawers. 

You tugged at the panel of wood and it popped off easily to reveal a mess of power cords, clothes and bags of powders squirrelled away. Shuffling around deeper, you saw a screen light up at the bottom and saw the notification that was mirrored on your phone. You reached for beyond the set of keys that matched your car and old apartment, right down to the cheap Eiffel Tower replica key ring.

“What the fuck…”

“I really wish you didn’t see that.”

You slammed the panel shut but it was too late, Lando was standing in the doorway to the room with his arms crossed over his chest. He had stolen it, the phone you had lost, the one you had replaced, it had been in his possession this whole time. All your social media profiles, iMessages, everything was at his disposal - even your period tracking app.

He had stolen everything you thought you lost. Keys, clothes, chargers. He even stole your perfume. You thought you were going crazy, but he had been orchestrating it all.

Tugging the panel away, you grabbed the clear bag of white powder and sniffed it. It had the same sickly sweet scent as the lemon and ginger tea he made. Grabbing another, you felt ill as it had the same relaxing aroma as the chamomile tea he used to make each night, the one that put you in a deep sleep.

“You roofied me?” You wanted to sound angry and bitter but you only sounded broken as you dropped the bags.

“You’re my girlfriend, why would I drug you?” he snickered as he walked into the room, taking the bags and flushing them down the toilet in the ensuite. “With what drugs?”

“You got me fired…why are you doing this to me?” It felt like déjà-vu and you were sure that you had this conversation before. Smacking the sides of your head you screamed as you tried to remember. Why couldn’t you remember?

“Hey, shhhh,” Lando soothed as he caught your hands and lowered them to your sides. You struggled against his hold as he wrapped you in his arms but he was too strong. “I just wanted you to be free to travel with me. Now we don’t have to be apart, ever.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” you growled as you tried to wriggle out of his hold. “This is insane, you’re fucking crazy!”

He released you as abruptly as he had caught you and you held your hands up as you backed away. You needed space, from him and the situation, you needed time to think.

“Where are you going?” he chuckled as he followed you out of the room, each of his strides longer than yours.

“Anywhere you aren’t.” He overtook you in the hall.

“You know I can’t let you go.” He blocked the door and slid the bolt across before facing you. “You’re carrying my child, you’re not leaving. You have no job, no house, no friends. You need me.”

Hopelessness fell over you and you hung your head in shame. “I wish I never met you.”

His laugh tickled your cheek as he embraced you again, his hand spreading wide over the back of your head and guiding your face to the crook of his neck. “No, you don’t,” he murmured into your hair. “You’re just angry, and that’s okay. We’ll get through this rough patch together and you’ll realise what a blessing this is. You and me, our baby, together, forever.”

“Forever?” you echoed in defeat.

“Forever. You’ll never want for anything, baby. Whatever you want you can have, I’ll make sure you are treated like a princess.”

“The kind that gets locked up in a tower?”

He laughed and kissed your forehead sweetly. “Only if you try to leave me. But you’re not going to try something silly like that are you, love?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and shook your head. He was right, you needed him. He could provide for you and the child you carried, so you would behave.

“I won’t,” you whispered as your shoulders slumped.

“That’s my girl. I knew I chose right,” he hummed happily. “None of those other women could have been you.”

Cold dread shivered down your spine. “What women?”

“The others that applied to rent my apartment,” he said as pulled back to look into your eyes, a dark smile on his lips. “The one I own next door.”

#dark!lando #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 rpf #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader

[deepspacequeer]

hey y'all! so I wanted to do another raffle but this time it's for a commission and I'd like each entry to be a donation towards your choice of a fundraiser benefiting Palestinians!

What you get:

if you win, you'll recieve a commission from me! the commission will be on an 11x14-inch wood panel that'll be ready to hang up! after you win we'll talk about what you'd like me to do and I'll get started! my only specification is that it needs to be Star Trek and it's got to be something I can do with what I have already unless you'd like to pay the cost for me to order something specific. I have a couple of hundred Star Trek magazines though, whatever you're thinking is probably doable if I dig enough!

How I do it:

I've got a cute little spin-the-wheel app! I'll put each entry on the wheel then record the first spin to post here. I'll do it a month from now (2/25/2024)

How to enter:

for every $10 you donate, you get an entry! you can get as many entries as you'd like to increase your odds. you can choose multiple fundraisers! you just need to message me with proof of your donations. I'm going to list some options but if there's somewhere or someone else you'd like to donate to, that's totally okay! my only guidelines are that your donation benefits Palestinians and it can't be a donation you made before this raffle.

Some donation options:

Palestine Children Relief Fund

eSims for Gaza

World Food Programme

Care For Gaza

Palestine Red Crescent Society

Medical Aid for Palestinians

thank you and good luck! 🇵🇸

#free palestine #commission raffle #palestine donations #star trek art #star trek #trek art #collage

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Incredibly beautiful 1901 Tudor mansion in New York City. 6bds, 6ba, $13.95M. The Joseph B. Thomas house has been renovated and I found the photos of how it looked in 2012 before the reno.

The sitting room before.

What an amazing sitting room. A stained glass/leaded glass wall, wood paneling, curved bas relief ceiling, and a magnificent fireplace.

Through the glass wall is a fabulous conservatory. We can see that the brick has been painted white.

Large dining room has gorgeous carved molding on top of the wood paneling, in this room. They gave it some mirrors, large modern art, and contemporary furniture.

There's no before photo of the primary bedroom, but it's huge, isn't it? This house really demonstrates how leaving the natural wood and painting the walls white do so much to brighten it off. There's no need to make everything that doesn't move, white.

The photos are the before and after of the wine cellar. It looks the same. There's no photo of the kitchen, which is so disappointing, but like we learned last week, sometimes very expensive homes don't show them, b/c the very wealthy don't care about cooking, they have chefs and/or cooks.

On the 4th floor there's a chef's kitchen. Fourth floor?

#mansions nyc #townhouses nyc #historic homes #houses #house tours #home tour

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

"Daddy Please" Murder Daddy Kinktober 2023 Day 3 Stepdad!Dave York x Reader

This blog is a 18+ space, Minors, do not engage. If you are under the age of 18 you are not welcome here. This blog is a personal space and I write predominantly smut, with some dubcon and other Dead Dove Do Not Eat level content. I will always pre-warn for anything triggering and will always endeavour to include tw/cws in the tags, and warnings at the top of my fics.  Please heed these warnings and the warnings put in place on each individual fic and chapter. Your reading and consumption of my work is your responsibility but I will endeavour to mitigate any discomfort for you, the reader, as possible. Once again, this is a 18+ space and minors should not interact.  Specific Warnings: Daddy Kink, Sex Work, OnlyFans, Cam work, Infidelity, Step-Cest, Dave York(he always needs his own warning), Possessive!Dave, Men being sexist dicks on the internet, choking, degradation, rough sex, rough oral sex, exhibitionism. Let me know if I missed anything! Graphic made by me, does not convey shape, race, or hair colour of reader, the panties just looked so good, no use of Y/N.

Summary: Your hot stepdad Dave York catches you creating OnlyFans content. [Read on AO3] - [Ko-Fi]

Dave

“Honey? I’m home!”

Dave calls from the front door as he shucks off his dress shoes, hoping beyond hope that his wife was home and his stepdaughter – you – were not. But silence is all that greets him, neither of you it seems are home. He sighs to himself and heads straight for his basement, or his man cave as your mom calls it.

He descends the stairs slowly, fatigue making his body sag, frustration making his neck ache from strain. He’s been gone two weeks on a business trip in Hawaii, to you and your mom, it was some tax scandal for a congressional race in Arizona. In reality, it was a hit on some one-percenter who had fallen on the wrong side of a cartel.

Money can’t buy sense.

He thinks to himself as he throws his suit jacket and briefcase down on the tan, L-shaped sofa in the middle of the basement. He flicks on the TV to check the news and as expected, his hit was on every channel. He smiles morbidly to himself at his anonymous infamy. He groans and stretches as he looks around the bare, dark wood panelled walls, he really needs to remember to decorate this space someday.

The TV runs as background noise as Dave steps into the small office to the right of the basement. He strips bare, his clothes pooling at his feet as he locks the door behind him. This room is more his own, a double bed with crisp white sheets dominates the room. A desk and computer with multiple monitors squeezed into the right side of the room, and a door leading to his ensuite. A small dresser acts as a nightstand wedged between the wall and the bed.

The small space comforts him, one door in, one door out. No windows, no surprises. He lets out a long, heavy sigh of relief as he lets himself relax for the first time since he left two weeks ago. Dave pads into the bathroom and showers, brushes his teeth, and shaves the two weeks of stubble from his face.

Suitably refreshed he throws on a pair of sweatpants and flops down into his leather office chair. He wakes his computer from sleep and pulls up his VPN, scrambling his IP manually before logging into a private browser. Some of it is habit, some part of it is to make sure his wife never sees his browsing history. He doesn’t bother with headphones, no-one is home, and he probably won’t last long anyway.

He almost feels ashamed, sneaking around like a teenager, but when your mom refuses to so much as touch Dave when you’re around, he feels like he has no other choice. The video starts and the streamer is nowhere to be seen, her usual purple sheets are made neatly, her blackout curtains drawn as always. But there’s something new, something that Dave feels uneasy about.

A string of bumblebee fairy lights; hung over her headboard. Double layered in a rainbow of colours that pulse and fade like fireflies in the Summer. Something about it is too familiar, something he feels like he should recognise. He shakes himself out of it, turning to the comments to smirk at their desperation as the stream officially starts with her usual greeting.

“Hey there Daddies, you miss me?” The sweet lilt of his favourite OnlyFans streamer, Princess Luna, is like music to his ears as he feels his cock hardening before she’s even on screen. Comments flash up in the live chat straight away, and Dave chuckles to himself.

He never comments, he just subscribes on his private credit card, tips generously, and almost never misses a stream. Especially when it’s her. He feels superior to the others, never begging for attention, just admiring her in a way he feels no-one else can. He knows he’s being more than a little delusional, but he doesn’t care.

Moments like this, he can forget about how miserable his marriage is.

ImUrDaddy: Oh baby where’ve you been? Daddy’s cock has missed you.

StepDadz129: Fuck Princess, come on let us see you. Daddy needs you.

PDaddy1$: Stop teasing me Luna darlin’, show me that tight little cunt.

The messages keep on coming but Dave isn’t looking anymore, all he sees is Luna sliding into view. As always, Luna’s face is covered with an elaborate masquerade mask. This one is a deep burgundy with black lace forming a veil over her mouth, with gold filigree in swirling baroque floral patterns around her eyes giving her a mystical air.

Her dark red lace panties and bra compliment the mask as she settles on her knees in the middle of her bed. He slips his cock out of his sweatpants and takes himself in one hand, sliding over the soft foreskin languidly as he takes in her breasts. Salivating at the way they swell over her lacy cups, begging to be freed.

“I’ve missed you Daddy, been so tense these last few days, missing my step daddy so much.” She continues and Dave groans audibly at the taboo pet name, his cock already fully hard.

“He’s been away for two whole weeks, and all I want is him to stuff me full of his fat cock until he spills his load in me.”  

Dave tries to push the nagging feeling in his mind away, something is off, but he grits his teeth as he focuses on the beautiful woman on screen, her hands already pulling her lacy bra down over her pert nipples. He slowly pumps his cock, desperate for release but he’s not going to let himself go. Not yet. The shows only just begun.

~*~

You

A knock at the front door startles you, your two fingers are deep inside you as the stream begins to heat up.

“Shit,” You curse to yourself and quickly spring up from the bed, “Sorry Daddy, I’ll be right back.”

You hear the comment notifications go wild in your wake and you silently bless whatever distraction has come up. Your viewers are going to be so thirsty for you once you get back. You shoulder on a black silk robe embroidered with white cranes and loosely tie it around you.

You hurry down the stairs, eyes glued to your phone where you watch the comments come in on the stream.

PDaddy1$: Baby! Come back you were doing so good for me!

ImUrDaddy: Aw baby don’t be a brat, I know there’s no-one there!

StepDadz129: Bitch!

You roll your eyes, clicking the mute button on the one comment before you hop down the bottom step. You check yourself out in the hall mirror for good measure, modest enough to answer the door but slutty enough to raise an eyebrow. You grin triumphantly and open the door wide, clinging to the edge of the door to greet them.

~*~

Dave

Rage courses through Dave’s veins as he sees the slew of abuse popping up on the chat the moment Luna disappears. He hates it when the entitled pricks come out to play.

His head snaps towards the basement stairs when he hears the sound of someone in the hall upstairs. Immediately Dave switches into work mode, ripping the desk drawer almost off the runners as he snatches up his pistol. He snaps in a mag and stuffs his achingly hard cock back into his pants.

He stalks back up the basement stairs, breathing slow, regulating his heartbeat as he prepares to face the intruder. He cracks the basement door open and sighs with relief as he quickly flicks the safety on his gun before stowing it in the back of his waistband.

It’s just you.

He thinks to himself as he eyes you from behind, the basement door has a perfect view to the front door, and more importantly your bare legs. His breath catches in his throat as he takes in the silk robe hugging your curves so beautifully. He hears your flirtatious giggle and if he wasn’t already hard, he knows he would be just at the sound of it.

Get it together, that’s your stepdaughter.

He scolds himself internally, but thinking it only makes him ache more. Isn’t that exactly what he was just watching on OnlyFans? He shakes himself out of his dark thoughts just as you finish signing for the parcel.

“Thanks dude, have a great day!” You call to the delivery driver and Dave makes his exit hastily. He closes the door without a sound and creeps back down to the basement.

Only once he’s back in his chair, watching abusive comments piling up in the live chat does he let out the breath he’s been holding. He stows his gun once more and waits for Luna to return.

She steps back into view with her phone in hand, black robe with embroidered white cranes on the hem. She’s texting in earnest before throwing the phone back down on the bed. A notification comes through on Dave’s phone and if he wasn’t already joining the dots the confirmation makes him almost come in his pants. The text comes through, from you.

Hey Dave, package for you on the kitchen counter, can’t wait to see you later! Xx

His heart is in his throat, surely it has to be a coincidence, some fucked up twist of fate. That can’t be you? You can’t be Princess Luna, surely?

“Sorry Daddy, a parcel came for you, left it on the kitchen counter for you.”

Then he hears it clear as day, you alter your voice a little, maybe you use software, or are just that fucking good an actress. He honestly can’t tell.

But the moment the robe drops from Luna’s shoulders he just knows.

“It’s you.”  

~*~

“So where were we Daddy?”

You ask to the webcam, mask secured, and panties pulled to the side, aimed directly at the professional camera you have mounted on your desk. You pull your phone back up to check the messages once more.

A litany of abuse for leaving too soon from your lowest tier supporters, typical. You have to have thick skin in this line of work, so you just mute a few before a familiar username pops up. Your eyebrows raise in surprise, it’s your favourite customer. The faceless, voiceless patron of your works that simply pays your highest tier, tips often, and not once has he given you abuse.

DukeSilver09: Hey there hon, don’t listen to these pricks, you’re doing a great job for me Princess.

Your cheeks heat up at his kindness and for the first time, you’re not just getting off to your own fantasies.

“What’s your story then Duke Silver? Fan of Parks and Rec?”

DukeSilver09: Yeah, my stepdaughter recommended it to me for when I’m travelling.

Your brows furrow for a second, trying to remember if you’d recommended it to Dave, or if it was just some crazy coincidence.

“Good taste, you fuck her yet Duke?”

You feel your orgasm building as you work a third finger inside you, rubbing your clit frantically as you imagine it’s Dave on the other end of this conversation. God, you wish. All you’ve wanted since they got married last year was to get him in your bed.

A girl can dream.

DukeSilver09: Not yet, but I think I’m about to get lucky.

“Good for you Duke, fuck her like the good little girl she is.”

You’re vaguely aware of the other men in the chat, some loving this interaction between you, some jealous, some angry, but you don’t care. All you care about is this stranger bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

~*~

Dave

Unbeknownst to you, Dave is leaning against the wall opposite your bedroom, waiting, phone in hand as he continues to watch you. He has headphones in to make sure he can still hear you without alerting suspicion. Dave types out a reply instantly.

DukeSilver09: She’s no angel, trust me, I know she’s filthy. I see the way she fucks me with her eyes at dinner.

Dave watches as you convulse on the bed, fingers working into your wet pussy, the squelching almost audible through the door. But maybe that was just his imagination running wild.

“Oh fuck, yeah? Well make sure to make her pay for being such a slut, sounds like she deserves to be punished.”

He groans aloud at that, and you freeze on the screen, Dave curses under his breath as he clamps his mouth shut.

This was stupid, fuck get out of there.

“Daddy?”

Dave looks down at the screen and sees that the livestream is muted, the sound hadn’t come from his headphones. He looks up and watches in disbelief as you open the door, robe on, mask off. Looking at him with a knowing look that would make even the toughest man flinch.

But Dave’s no ordinary man.

~*~

You

Dave stands there for a moment, frozen in place, but his face is anything but shocked. His one eyebrow is cocked, his plump lips curved up into a smirk, making his cheek dimple.

“Hey there Princess, what’re you doing in there? Got a guy over? You know how your mom feels about you having the door shut if you have visitors.”

“Nope, no-one here but me, Da- Dave.” You falter, already the taboo falling too easily from your lips.

It can’t have been him? Surely not, this is just some fucking weird coincidence, right?

“Then you won’t mind if I come in? Check on those fairy lights?”

“I don’t think-!” You start but Dave has already crowded past you, you suddenly realise he’s only got sweatpants on, his body heat rolls off onto you as you take in the painfully obvious erection straining against his pants.

“Well, well, this is what you’ve been up to.”

Dave purrs, picking up the mask you were just wearing, turning it around in his deft fingertips as he looks at the livestream. He’s just out of camera-shot as he grins at you wickedly.

“Dave please, don’t tell mom.”

“About which bit?”

You give Dave a confused look, breathing becoming laboured as panic sets in.

“What do you mean?” Your voice is barely more than a whisper at this point, and you feel compelled to shut the door behind you.

“What don’t you want me to tell her?” He asks, one long stride and he’s got you backed against the door, his free hand circles your neck, gently, a promise more than a threat, “That you’re whoring yourself out to dirty old men online?”

“Dave please, I can-!”

“Or that you’ve been waiting for me to stuff you full of my fat cock until I spill my load inside you?”

Your brain short circuits as you realise it is him, there’s no doubt now, he’s been watching you for months.

Did he know it was me?

“Dave please, it was all for show, I promise.”

Dave clicks his tongue in disappointment, but his hand tightens around your throat as he uses his thumb to nudge your jaw to the side. He leans in, pressing his rock hard, aching dick against your bare stomach as he rubs his cheek against yours.

“You sure honey? Because I’d be mighty disappointed if that was the truth.”

You moan, the sound escaping you before you can even think to stop it, you roll your hips up against him and wrap your arms around his neck before turning to face him. Your noses press against one another as you look up through your lashes into his hooded, lust-drunk eyes.

“You mean it Daddy?” You breathe as you brush your lips against his, your whole body vibrating with arousal as his breath fans against your skin, foreheads pressed together as you try your hardest to hold back.

“‘Course sweetheart, how could I not? You’re fucking gorgeous.”

“But what about-?” You begin to protest, and whatever you were about to say is lost as Dave’s lips crash into yours.

His free hand drops the mask before pinning your hip to the door. His broad hand sears against your skin as he grinds down into you. You moan into his mouth, giving him access before he even asks, letting him lick into your mouth with a hunger you’ve never known from a partner.

He dominates you, claims your mouth in a ravenous need that has you whimpering as you spread your legs for him, hitching an ankle around his leg, pulling him in closer as you run your fingers through his hair. You tug firmly and the growl he makes almost has you coming right there and then.

“Dave the stream.” You pant as you both come up for air, but a darkness falls over his vision. You already know what he’s going to ask before he says a word.

“You got another mask I can borrow?”

Your stomach flutters as you realise what he’s suggesting. You’re about to fuck Dave for the first time, on live stream for fucks sake. Your viewers are going to fucking love it.

“Stay here.” You breathe against his lips, taking control for a second and your heart flutters as Dave’s eyebrow raises in amusement. You’re filing that reaction away for later.

You bend over, making sure to brush up against Dave’s rock-hard bulge as you do, and pick up your mask, re-seating it before heading back into view of the livestream. The sound of comments firing in the background makes your stomach flutter in anticipation. You rifle under your bed for your box of props.

“Here you go Daddy.” You purr as you prance back to the doorway.

“Fuck.” Dave rasps as he twitches in his pants. He puts the black and gold mask on, smirking down at you as you bite your lip at him.

“Follow my lead, yeah?”

“Sure baby, it’s your show.”

You lean up to press a soft kiss to his lips. It’s an oddly intimate act and you almost regret doing it until you see the lazy smile spread across Dave’s lips.

You turn to go back to your stream and before you’re even back in shot you feel the sharp slap of Dave’s palm on your ass and you yelp. You look back with a playful look as you roll your eyes at him.

“Hey there Daddies,” You say with a soft, sing-song lilt to your voice, “Sorry about that, I almost got busted! Daddy came home and I had to pretend to be a good little girl.”

You chuckle giddily as you watch the comments flood back in, all positive, begging for you to continue.

The violent banging on your door startles you and you yelp.

“Luna what the fuck are you doing in there?” Dave roars, loud enough for your viewers to hear and the comments go absolutely wild.

“I’m not dressed please don’t come in!” You feign as much panic as you can, pretending to fumble with the computer controls.

“You got a boy in there? I’ll fucking kill him.” Dave roars as he rips the door open. You stand up and clutch your discarded robe against your chest.

“Please, it’s not what it looks like, please don’t tell mom.” You mimic your terrified tone from earlier but both of you now know it’s just an act.

“What the fuck?”

Dave steps into view and you all but whimper as you see the murderous look in his dark eyes. He looks from you to the computer, and back again. His chest heaves and you take a step back, you’re not sure if you planned to or not but the intensity is more than you expected.

“Please, let’s just talk about this.”  

You plead as he crosses the short distance to grab you by the throat, harder than before and you audibly gasp as he takes off his mask. You watch as his eyes scan the stream, making sure he’s only visible from the neck down.

“You wear these fancy masks to hide your whoring from the world huh? Give me one, I’m not about to get caught fucking you on some sick little porno site.”

You make a show of turning to the camera, lace-covered breasts front and centre as you pretend to grab something from the shelf behind. You turn and tilt up onto your tiptoes to replace the mask on Dave’s face. You pout a little. As much as you know it’s necessary, you want to see him, all of him, when he fucks you.

“Good girl, now,” He growls, shoving past you to sit on the end of the bed, “Convince me not to tell your mom, show me if you’re good enough to keep a secret for.”

He’s a fucking natural, lined up perfectly in shot so that you can sink onto your knees in front of him. The notifications are going wild, the cheesy sound bite of a cash register opening and closing as your fans tip you firing faster than you’ve ever known.

“What if it’s too big, Daddy?”

“You’ll make it fit Princess, I know you will.”

You nod slowly and peel down the waistband of his pants and gasp at the sight of him. He’s uncut, thick, and a nice size. A Goldilocks dick, not too big, not too small. You salivate at the sight of him and look up to see his hungry gaze locked on you.

You pull his foreskin back gently and mewl at the sight of his pre-come smeared over his angry red tip. You lap gently at the mess and hum at the salty, bitter taste of his come.

“Good fucking girl, knew you’d be good at sucking dick, bet you’ve had hundreds of cocks stuffed down your throat.”

“Nuh-uh,” You say loud enough for the microphone to pick up, “Only you Daddy.” His dick twitches wildly at that and he looks down at you in shock, you see the real fear of this being your first-time flash behind his eyes and you subtly shake your head. He narrows his eyes and nods imperceptibly in understanding.

“Fuck, been saving yourself for me Princess?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

You punctuate it with a short, wet suck of his exposed tip and he groans, fisting one hand in your hair, shifting slightly on the bed angling it so that the stream can just see your profile as you suckle on his tip.

“See fellas, this is what you get when you’re nice to her.”

You whimper and feel the slick dripping down your legs as you sink lower onto Dave’s gorgeous cock. It’s so smooth, his foreskin making it a dream to sink down onto. He hisses as your lips and nose press into his pubic hair.

“Good fucking girl.” His voice is ragged, and you look up to see his plush lips parted, veins in his neck bulging. You bob your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks out as you flick your tongue against his head every time you come back up his shaft.

“She’s got such a fucking pretty little mouth, don’t you think?”

He shifts on the bed again until he’s standing, you have to sit up on your knees to keep him in your mouth. His face is out of shot, and he looks down at you with care in his eyes. He mouths down a “You ok?” At you and you smile, nodding as you take him deep.

“Shit, look at you.”

Dave’s Hand in your hair becomes possessive as he rolls his hips slowly into your mouth, you gag a little and tears spill from your eyes as you try your hardest to keep it together.

“Doing so well for me baby, making Daddy feel so good.”

You whine at the praise and his willingness to call himself daddy. He lets you take his cock for a little longer before he rips you off with a snarl.

“Need to fill that little pussy up, c’mere.”

Dave pulls you up into his arms and kisses you deeply, tongue licking into your mouth, tasting himself on you with a moan as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He sits down on the edge of the bed once more before turning you in his lap, his cock sliding between your clothed folds as he holds your back flush against his chest. One hand is wrapped around your throat as his other trails down your body to your soaked panties.

“You been saving this for me too?”

He slowly peels them away to the side, exposing your wet heat. You arch your back as he glides two thick fingers through your folds. It feels so much better than you could have imagined. His calloused pads rake through you, teasing at your hole before gliding back up to your clit, rubbing slow, intense circles around your swollen bud.

“Yes Daddy, want you to be the only one, want you inside me. Daddy, please?��

You squirm in his lap, rocking your hips so you coat his length with your slick as it glides through your lips.

“Slow down baby, not going to last if you keep doing that.” He whispers in your ear, chuckling slightly as he nips a warning into your neck. You hum and slow down, but you don’t stop.

“Please Daddy, can’t wait any more, need you.”

It’s only half an act. You’ve dreamt of this for months, desperate to have him. You watch how your mother spurns him, how she hides her phone when he’s around. You know she’s not being good to him.

“As you asked so nicely.”

You’re caught off guard as he notches himself at your core and with one hand on your hip, the other tight around your throat, he drags you down onto his cock.

You cry out in ecstasy as you feel every inch of him pressing into you, every ridge and vein as he forces you down to the base. You’re grateful that you worked yourself open with three fingers earlier or this would have been way too much.

“Look at that baby,” Dave hums against your skin, looking into the camera over your shoulder as he tilts your head down to look at the screen, “Look at how pretty you look all stretched out on my cock.”

You pant heavily as you get used to his girth, it’s blinding. You’ve never had someone fill you just right like this, like you were made to be split open by him. You whine impatiently and a hard slap comes down on your right ass cheek. Dave’s cock twitches up into you as you yelp and mewl at the painful pleasure rocking through you.

“Naughty girl, so eager to get fucked, what would your mother say if she could see you like this?”

Dave taunts you as he moves both hands to your hips, pulling you further back into the bed so he can brace his feet on the sheets, holding you up for the camera to see you suspended above him. You know it’s for show, you know it’s all a fantasy, but in that moment, you lose yourself to Dave.

“Touch yourself baby, need you to milk this fat dick until you’re full of me, y’hear me?”

“Yes Daddy, want you to fill me up, fuck your cum deep into me.”

“Good fucking girl.”

Dave snaps up into you without warning, his pace brutal as he fucks you just right, kissing your g-spot with the head of his cock as you swirl your fingers aggressively around your clit. You feel your release building like a crescendo. The symphony of Dave’s hungry, aggressive grunting as he fucks you harder and harder with every thrust; and the staccato of desperate moans that escape your lips are all you can think about.

You’re about to come as Dave pushes you forward onto your hands and knees, he fuses his hips to yours, not letting you go for a single second as he pushes your head down onto the edge of the bed.

“Fuck yeah, let them see you, how fucking drunk you are on my cock, dirty little slut.”

“Fuck yes, Daddy, fuck me deep, fill me up with your come Daddy.”

The words fall from your lips without prompt or encouragement, you’re coming so hard you can’t keep your eyes open any more, your legs tremble and your arms feel like lead as pleasure rocks through you like no other orgasm you can remember.

Dave keeps fucking you as you whimper and shake from exertion and overstimulation. You let him use you, let him fuck down into you with such force you swear you’ll feel him for weeks. But you don’t care, pleasure ebbs through you like a heartbeat, stopping only as Dave’s hips snap into you one last time as you hear him groan in your ear. He falls against your back, holding you close to him as he releases inside you, pinning you to him as he pants and whines in your ear.

“Such a good fucking girl.” He rubs his nose along the column of your neck and suckles your earlobe into his mouth.

“All for you Daddy.”

You eventually ease off of his lap and turn the stream off without your usual sign-off. You don’t give a single shit about your viewers right now, all you can think about is Dave and the blissed-out look on his face as he watches you, propped up against your headboard.

“So, that was something else.”

You say with a giggle and the smile that spreads across his face has butterflies exploding in your chest. The love, the affection there is something more than just some kinky fantasy.

“Yeah,” He wheezes as he rocks up onto his feet and scoops you up into his arms, bridal style, “Let’s get you cleaned up yeah?”

His whole demeanour has changed, gone is the dominant Dave who just fucked you within an inch of your life, right here the Dave you know so well. Caring, soft, yet still so fucking hot.

“Ok.” You mumble into his chest as you flop against him.

~*~

Hours later and your mom still isn’t home, Dave still hasn’t left your bed.

“We don’t have to do this again y’know.”

You eventually say what you’ve been trying to bring up for hours. You’re snuggled into Dave’s chest, under your freshly made sheets, watching some shit on Netflix. He sits up immediately, pulling you up to sit next to him.

“Is that what you want?”

There’s a vulnerability on Dave’s face that makes your heart clench, a myriad of emotions floods through your system. You dip your head, avoiding those soft brown eyes that you adore.

“No, I just, you’re married to my mom.”

Dave’s calloused hand cups your cheek tilting your head up to look at him.

“And where do you think she is tonight? Where she’s been the last six weekends in a row?”

Dave’s eyes are deadly serious, there’s an edge to his tone that arouses you, it’s possessive, frustrated, but most of all passionate.

“Do you want to keep, uh, seeing each other?” You ask as your eyes drop to his lips and you can’t imagine not kissing them again, not feeling them on your skin.

“Yes.”

Dave’s answer shocks you, not for his admission but for how firmly he says it, how much passion and surety he can pack into a single syllable.

“Good.”

You respond in turn before pulling Dave down on top of you, crashing his lips into yours as his hips slot between yours like you were made for one another.

What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #smut #dave york #dave york x female reader #dave york x reader #dave york smut #equalizer 2 #dave york fanfiction #dave york x you #tw stepcest #stepcest cw #Stepdad!Dave york #Stepdaughter!Reader #no use of y/n #Dave York needs his own warning #Dave York pit #munder daddy Kinktober 2023 #Murder daddy Kinktober #Mdkt23 #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #tw: stepcest #tw: infidelity #tw: sex work #sex work is work #sex work is real work

[honeym00ngirl]

Adore You ☠︎︎ Shanks x Fem! Reader

a/n: apologies for the disappearing act, but I’m back and I come baring gifts of soft! Shanks.

warnings: shittily proof read, mentions of bullet wounds, language, fluff (still don’t get why fluff is a warning), kinda short but sweet.

It was stupid and it was reckless and you knew that. But for Shanks? Anything. 

In the heat of the moment you took a bullet meant for your captain, and even now as you lay wounded and fatigued, you still have yet to regret a thing. Hell, you’d probably do it again. 

You woke up, head pounding as your eyes scanned the surround area. A wave of relief washed over you upon noticing familiar decor and warm wood panels. You were back on the Red Force, in the sanctity of your own bunk. 

A light cough caught your attention and your eyes fell to the door where Shanks leaned, resting against the frame, staring at you. He didn’t look angry per say but unpleasantry was written on his face. 

You were racking your mind, trying to think of something- anything to say. Something that might ease both his mind and his sour gaze. 

You tried opening your mouth hoping the words would find you on their way out, but he just shushed you.

Love makes people do crazy things and maybe you panicked, but he won’t entertain whatever reason you had. He didn’t blame you, of course. How could he? It wasn’t your fault. For fucks sake, right now Shanks blamed everyone but you. The enemy, the word, himself. 

Letting out a deep chested sigh, Shanks slowly made his way you to your side, his gaze softening in the process. “it doesn’t matter. Whatever you had say, whatever excuses you were going to make,” he paused, moving a strand of hair away from your sweat deluged forehead. “it doesn’t matter. I owe you my life and I am lucky to have someone like you by my side. But my sweet girl, you must understand how reckless that was. I'd rather get myself shot than have you bedridden in exchange for my safety.”

Smiling tight-lipped, you nod saying. “I can’t promise it won’t happen again. Not unless you can promise to stop getting yourself into such compromising situations.”

Shanks almost laughs, and you frown. “I’m being serious, Shanks. Surprisingly I have yet figure out what exactly it is about you that provokes others to start shooting, but it needs to stop.”

But his smirk only grows. Reaching down he touches your face, caressing it gently and turning it to the side. His thumb running down a fresh bruise as he tuts, not at you, but at the situation. “I’ll try my best, but you know as well I, if someone else starts it then that’s out of my control.” His smirk turns to a smile as he presses a quick kiss to the top of your head. You let out a hum in response, leaning into his touch. 

“I adore you.” He mutters into your hair. 

#red hair shanks #shanks x reader #one piece #one piece live action #one piece imagine #opla #live action shanks #reader insert #request are open #thank you for reading!

[ily-fictional-women]

Free Time

Summary: Being a new member of the Avengers has gone over smoothly so far. Besides the ex-assassin, Natasha Romanoff hates Y/n for some reason though. Although with a little free time maybe Y/n will figure out why. 

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: None that I know of, but if I should add anything let me know! 

Word count: 1948

a/n: Kind grumpy x Sunshine vibes with a little forced proximity trope. (Reblogs are welcome and critiques/advice are heavily encouraged, but please no translating.) 

“Y/n L/n, Director Fury requests your immediate attendance in the debriefing center.” The robotic voice was something Y/n still hadn’t grown accustomed to even after being an Avenger for a few months now. “Tell Fury I’ll be right there.” Y/n begrudgingly got up from the couch she was lounging on in her room. Making her way to debrief center passing through the kitchen she’s stopped by Clint who has a large bowl of cereal in front of him, “And where exactly are you going?” The archer asked in such a tone that would make you think he knew the answer. 

“Just the debrief center, why are you so curious?” Clint laughs out loud dropping his spoon into the bowl quickly. As Y/n shoots him a questioning look though he settles down with a big smile still on his face, “It’s nothing” he waves his hand trying to shoo away Y/n “It’s nothing at all trust me.” Side-eyeing Clint Y/n continues to make her way toward the debriefing room. 

Making her way through the glass doors that’s when she finally notices her, Natasha Romanoff. As Natahsa looks in Y/n’s direction she immediately rolls her eye, “No, I’m not doing this. I’m not working with her.” Fury places two files on the long wooden table motioning for Y/n to sit next to Natasha, “You don’t have a choice Miss Romanoff, you and Miss L/n will be working together on this mission.” 

Natasha lets out an annoyed sigh, the rest of the debriefing going normally. Although it was hard for Y/n to focus with the radiating annoyed energy coming from Natasha. The basics were simple to remember though. Natasha and her were going to inspect an abandoned hydra base on a secluded island and inspect for any weapons. Extraction would come once either Y/n or Natasha made the call.

//

As the Quinjet landed quickly on the sandy beach of the island, Natasha grabbed her duffle bag seemingly in a rush to get out of the jet that she, Y/n, and a SHIELD pilot had been stuck in for hours. Not long after Y/n followed, the Quinjet quickly shot back up to the sky. The old hydra base was set at the top of a short mountain, the build of the base and the woods surrounding it making it impossible to land anywhere close to it. 

“So, you have an idea of how we’re supposed to get inside the base?” Natasha huffed, “If you read the file you would know there should be a keypad panel with the code- 8254181.” Y/n put up her hand defensively as if Natasha could see behind her as they trudge through the forest on the way to the base. 

“You have any plans after this?” Y/n tried to fill the insufferable silence. Natasha just pushed back a branch that (maybe) accidentally hit Y/n in the face, “We don’t have to talk to each other you know that right?” The comment kind of stung but Y/n tried to keep quiet. Besides some exasperated pants and the occasional sigh, the walk through the forest and the hike up the mountain were practically silent. 

Natasha placed down her bag, punching the code into the keypad with Y/n behind her, nothing happened- but within the blink of an eye, a quick sonic blast hit the two. Ears still ringing, Y/n managed to get up and check on Natasha who was knocked out from being closer to the blast. 

“Hey, hey. Natasha, come on. I’m gonna need you to wake up. Please.” Y/n was lightly tapping Natasha’s left cheek. After about two minutes Natasha finally woke up giving Y/n a dazed look causing Y/n to take a quick gasp of relief. With all the adrenaline rushing through her Y/n hadn’t realized until after Natasha woke up that she had been straddling her this whole time. After Natasha murmured something incoherent, Y/n awkwardly jumped off her moving to her side. 

“Uh,” she clears her throat, “Y-you okay?” Natasha scoffs moving herself to sit up by her elbows wincing in between shuffles, “Yeah, yeah. I’m great.” She fully stands up finally, Y/n following suit. Taking out her phone carefully Natasha clicks the on button once, then spams it a bunch of times, “Shit, shit, shit” she hurls the phone off the mountain “Shit.” 

“What the hell was that for?!” Y/n’s tone came out more angry than panicked which caused Natasha to press her hands against her face in frustration, “It was an EMP. The blast was an EMP. And by the looks of it, there’s nothing in there but dust and spiders.” Y/n started pacing, “How the hell are we gonna get out of here.” Instead of hearing an answer, she saw Natasha grab her duffle bag and start walking down the path down the mountain. 

“Where the hell are you going?!” Natasha shrugged throwing up her hands, “If we’re going to be playing the waiting game I’m not doing it up here.” Despite Natasha’s attitude, Y/n followed her down the path leading to the beach, the two settling in the soft warm sand. Of course, a good moment can never last, and Y/n loudly rummaging through her bag ruined it. It took a few seconds but Y/n fished out a granola bar ripping off the plastic wrapping but pausing after. 

She holds out the bar to the redhead, a faint smile on her face, “You want some? You should eat after that hike.” Natasha hesitates for a moment eyeing the granola bar as Y/n waves it lightly, “Fine.” She pinches the bar breaking it into two halves so they could eat separately. Taking small bites off the granola bar Y/n looked closer at the woman next to her, or that is until Natasha herself broke the quiet noises of the ocean. 

“How long do you think we’ll be here?” Y/n laughed quietly to herself, “I thought we didn’t have to talk.” Y/n’s sarcastic comment was quickly followed by a sharp glare from Natasha making Y/n laugh a little harder, “Alright alright. In all seriousness it could be a few hours, a day, a week maybe even more but no matter how long they take” she stands up unzipping her jacket and loosening her pants “I am going to enjoy myself.”  

Finally taking off her jacket and pants, leaving herself in her underwear and tank top. Natasha watched as Y/n splashed into the water sinking her whole body under the moving current. She shot back up from the water with a big grin across her face looking at Natasha, “You should come join me, Romanoff. It’s cold but nice. And there’s no way your thick suit can be comfortable.” 

Natasha ignored the comment focusing her attention in a separate direction. Some part of her wanted to keep looking at Y/n, keep watching, maybe even join her. But it didn’t feel right at the same time. 

Before they both knew it the sun was setting making the ocean shimmer with mixes of yellows and oranges. Y/n got out of the water admiring the sunset with Natasha. She leaned closer to Natasha, “If the sun’s setting it’ll get dark soon. We should start a fire.” 

“We?” Natasha asked finally putting her focus back on Y/n. 

“Do you want to gather sticks alone?” Y/n said with a quick and short laugh. 

“Yes,” Natasha replied quickly getting up and walking toward the woods. Despite wanting to follow Y/n knew now was a time to leave her alone, just for a few minutes at most, while watching the sunset. 

// 

Once Natasha finally came back with the bundle of wood carried like a hammock in the jacket she finally took off, the stars were shimmering and Y/n was lying on her back staring up at them. “I got the wood.” Natasha interrupted staring down at Y/n who was looking up at the sky as if it were her first time. “Thank you.” She finally sat up with Natasha settling down in front of her placing down the wood gently as Y/n started stacking the short pieces, before carefully lighting it with a match. 

The crackling warm light of the fire combined with the cold loud crashes of the ocean offered a type of security, and comfort you could never get in the city. “Why do you hate me so much?” Y/n’s question made everything feel like it went silent for Natasha, “I- I don’t hate you Y/n.” Even though to some Natasha’s answer would be considered enough Y/n rolled her eyes at it. 

“Then why is that the first time I’ve heard you say my name? Or more importantly, why do you always seem angry around? ‘No I’m not working with her’ you said that. It- it just feels like-” Natasha interrupted her, “I don’t hate you Y/n I’m jealous.” She said it so quick it was hard to understand. 

“What?” Natasha slowed her speech, quieter, “I don’t hate you Y/n, I’m jealous, of you.” Despite Natasha speaking slower Y/n still seemed confused, “What do I have for you to be jealous over?” Natasha groaned looking up for a moment as if trying to find the right answer in the sky but inevitably putting her focus back on Y/n. 

“You transitioned into the Avengers and SHIELD so easily. You already get along so well with so many people. And I’m jealous of that. I wish people could look at me the way they look at you.” Y/n put a gentle hand on top of Natasha’s, “Don’t ever say that.” It was Natasha’s turn to be confused, “Why not?” Y/n rubbed soft circles into her hand, “Because, you’re too amazing to be jealous. You should see the way the people who are important in your life look at you. So many people think you’re more than amazing, you just need to look carefully for it.”

“And who would think of me like that?” Natasha knew the answer but she wanted to hear it. Y/n intertwined her hand with Natasha’s, “Me. And others. But at least on this island, me.” Natasha gently tightened her grip on Y/n’s hand moving her focus to the fire, “Can I ask you a question? Since you asked me one.” Y/n raised an eyebrow smiling again, “Yeah, yeah. Totally.” 

“Back on the mountain, after the blast. You were on top of me and looked worried. Why?” Y/n laughed loudly this time, “Did you get a concussion up there? I don’t want you to die.” She cut off her laugh when she caught a glance at Natasha who’s eyes had begun to tear up. Placing a gentle hand on her face Y/n whipped away a stray tear that had started to fall, “And because I care about you Natasha.”  

“How can you care about me with how I treat you?” Y/n shrugged, “Because, I think everyone deserves to be loved and cared about.”  Natasha wiped her head over to Y/n, “You love me?”  

“Yeah, but not romantically” Y/n smiled suggestively, “I could do that over time if you wanted.” That made Natasha smile, “Maybe.” 

It took five days for SHIELD to get back to them, each day the two of them getting closer. Very close. Having them get closer was part of Fury’s plan, but this close? That was not planned, and definitely not expected.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #nick fury #clint barton #marvel fancic #marvel imagine

[muldermuse]

i wrote this drabble so quick today, i thought about it on the drive to work and had to do it today.

part of the two sinners works.

Gator overhears reader fucking someone else (spoiler alert: it’s eddie munson lmao- obviously modern!eddie) nsfw below the cut!!! 18+!! mdni!!

He doesn’t recognise the van, it isn’t Jenson’s or Steve’s. It’s the kind of van that he would pull over to spot check for pot.  Whoever is inside with you has dumped it outside your door with no consideration. Gator smirks, that’s just like you- no consideration for anyone but yourself. He notices there’s one sticker on the bumper ‘Hellfire Club’, it looks like the kinda shit that kids at his school would wear all those years ago. Gator considers you could have invited your friend round again to make him jealous but, the pack of smokes tossed on the passengers suggest something different. 

He could leave.

He could go straight home.

You’re not alone in there so there’s no room for him.

But, Glenda is doing an online bible study session so he’s keen to avoid that. 

He creeps towards the rear of your house.

He knows that you keep your bedroom window open. You always do and seldom remember to close it when you’re planning on fucking someone, Gator always tells you that someone will hear, you always sneer back a ‘let ‘em’.

For a few moments, it’s void of voices. He can hear the tinny rhythm of your god awful speaker that should have been retired when you were in your teens. Before he can exhale and try to stop the adrenaline coursing through his veins- he hears you. 

Your moans are high pitched, you sound so whiny and so desperate for whoever is in there with you. Gator gets hard as soon as he hears your voice and he fucking hates himself for it. 

“Eddieeddieeddie, please baby please go a lil harder” you’re begging, he can hear the desperation in your voice. He’s trying not to imagine you in this moment, he’s pushing the thought of you bent over with some guy behind you to the back of his mind but as always, his desires continue to betray him.

He doesn’t recognise the guys voice, it’s a new accent- definitely some dude from out of town. Gator makes a mental note to note down his license plate to investigate more tomorrow. “Baby, we’re goin’ soft tonight, right?”. Gator doesn’t need to see you to know that you’re nodding your head in agreement, so desperate to feel good that you’ll do anything. Gator presses his hard cock through his cargos; desperate to feel some relief. This feels wrong- even for him. He’s listening to you fuck someone else, he’s hiding under your bedroom window whilst some random ‘Hellfire’ guy is gently fucking you. 

He’s going to fucking cum in his pants. 

“M’gonna fuck you so slow and good baby, I promise” the guy’s voice is muffled, he’s probably buried his nose in your soft, perfumed hair and your moan is so sweet back to him. Gator hasn’t heard you moan like that in a while. 

The exterior wood panelling of your home is cool against Gator’s damp forehead. He vows to himself that he isn’t going to jerk himself off outside your home but, he’ll allow himself the luxury of pressing against his cock until he either calms down or he cums. 

Your moan is breathy and distant, “Eddie m’gonna cum so fuckin’ hard please please don’t stop”. 

“So so fuckin’ pretty baby, cum for me and I’ll cum in you- okay? You’re too fuckin’ good to me” you’re pushing your face into your pillow as you cum. You always do that when you cum hard, most times Gator pushes your face further in as you cum and he can feel you shaking under him. The thought of that sends Gator hurtling over the edge, biting his fist as he soaks his cargos with his cum. An intense rage blooms through his body, he doesn’t know who he’s more disappointed in- you or himself. When he gets back in his patrol car, he slams the door so hard he’s shocked the window is still intact. 

*** 

The guy leaving your house looks like a fucking freak. Long curly hair, some tight jeans and a shirt with the same Hellfire logo from his van. He kisses you on your front doorstep and you slap his ass with a wink as he heads to his van. As soon as he starts it, Back in Black erupts through the speakers and he tyre spins away from your home- honking his horn repeatedly as he speeds away. 

Gator is scribbling down his license plate as you tap against his window. 

“You wanna come in for some cocoa, Sheriff?” you coo. He nods wordlessly and follows you indoors. 

It’s silent as you make him a hot cocoa. You’re wrapped in your thoughts- you know what he did and you knew as soon as you saw his patrol car. Gator is trying desperately to hide the darkened stain on his cargos, you prompt for him to sit down as you slide him a chipped Garfield mug full of piping hot chocolate. You see a brief smile flash across Gator’s face, this is his favourite mug and you always save it for him.

“He’s um…that guy was just a friend from out of town” you’re trying to sound as nonchalant as possible as the burning hot liquid hits your tongue. 

He scoffs, “huh yeah, sounded like a real fuckin’ good pal of yours”. He doesn’t look at you, just wraps his cold hands tighter around the mug. He’s like a sulky teenager, upset because a cute girl won’t dance with him at prom. 

“Y’need to stop doing this Gator…you know what this is- right? I don’t spy on you and Glenda and I’d ne-“

“I could be nice, y’know…I mean like when I fuck you” his eyes are soft and pleading. “I mean, we do it kinda nice but you always ask for more.”

Before you can respond, his voice continues quietly. “I love fuckin’ you like that…makes it better, makes this feel real”.

You don’t want to let that comment linger and you’re desperate to ignore how your heart bloomed at that sentence. “Wanna shower with me? Maybe you can be all sweet on me in the shower”.

The hot cocoa gets cold on the side as the shower pours for the next 30 minutes. 

#two sinners works #gator fargo #gator tillman #gator tillman x you #gator tillman x f!reader #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman smut #gator tillman x y/n #gator tillman fanfiction #gator x reader #gator smut #fargofx #fargoedit #fargo #fargo spoilers #fargo season 5 #fargo fx #fargo s5 #joe keery smut #joe keery #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you

[b00kdiary]

Wildest Dreams (III)

ACOTAR The Batboys x Plus size reader

Where the reader finds herself gaining the attention of the most notorious males in Prythian and it seems that even her wildest dreams couldn't prepare her for the night they would share.

Notes: This has Rhys, Cassian and Azriel with a plus-size reader since I literally couldn't decide who it should be and thought that the best fantasy in the world would be all three :) Here's to all my thick, fat, plus-size girlies who want some bat-boy love too xo

Warning: mature themes (18 +) swearing, body-image issues, smut and the bat boys being utterly infatuated with their thick, beautiful lady

Part I Part II Part IV

“This is where you live?” I muttered, my eyes scouring my surroundings in disbelief.

I lifted my eyes to the right, meeting Rhysand’s gaze, my brain forcing me to not focus on his hand trailing aimlessly at the nape of my back. He smiled, shrugging modestly as he nodded as if this wasn’t the most extravagant yet cosy home I’d ever seen.

“It’s beautiful,” I said softly, turning back to the ornate red-carpet and wood-panelled walls. The males remained silent behind me, allowing me to take in the room and I glanced back, trying not to overwhelm myself as realisation set in.

The realisation that I was here alone with these three males.

Rhysand had winnowed us all here after I had accepted their invitations, using his Daemati skills to tell Sadie where I was going- I could still see the shit-eating grin she gave me from across the floor as we left.

I had felt exhilarated after saying yes, exhilarated and needy as my words seemed to ignite a fire within them too, as if they envisioned the night ahead we’d share. And yet, now that I stood here, alone, unprepared, uncertain with them before me, that confidence dwindled into ashes.

They seemed to notice it too, their body language easy and unthreatening as they stood before me.

Rhysand stood tall, hands tucked into the pockets of his pants, eyes soft and patient upon me. My gaze travelled to Cassian who sat on the arm of the sofa, a warm smile playing on his lips at my stare. And then finally my eyes moved to the left, where Azriel stood, arms folded, back leaned against the wall, watching me as keenly as I watched them.

I tucked a strand of loose hair behind my ears as the silence lingered on and I couldn’t help the way my fingers fiddled and pulled, knowing that this was not the kind of interaction they were used to.

We all stood too far away and wore way too much clothing.

Rhysand huffed a breathy laugh and my eyes drew from their haze as I looked at him, my cheeks heating at the knowing smile he wore, amusement and interest dancing in the shine of his purple eyes.

“Would you like a drink?” Azriel suddenly asked, his voice quiet. I paused, not expecting the question but I nodded slowly, smiling timidly in acknowledgement of my nerves.

“Yes, I would, if it’s not an issue,” I said, trying to even out the shaking in my voice as I spoke. Azriel nodded, pushing off the wall and began moving towards me, to the room in the back.

“Why don’t we all go? I could do with a drink and getting to know Y/N darling better” Rhysand spoke, and I felt a rush of relief flow over me at the words. My eyes met his, and from the small nod and quirked smile, I knew he was doing this for my benefit.

“My Lady” Cassian smirked, walking toward me and hooking out an elbow for me to take. I giggled, slipping my arm through the loop, and nestling myself up against the hard, strong muscles and warm skin.

“Well, thank you, Lord Cassian” I winked and he chuckled, his head throwing back, momentarily revealing the strong column of his throat. I tried to not make my stare obvious as he began leading me through the adjoining doors into a room with a large oak table.

Azriel had brought out a bottle of red wine and began setting down four glasses, filling them all up swiftly. I observed him as he moved, so graceful with his shadows dancing around him, and he somehow managed to look beautiful even while doing a task as menial as pouring drinks.

Noticing our entrance, he smiled and began to walk over, his feet ever silent as he stopped, handing me a glass. I took it, whispering a thank you and as my fingers passed him I felt the scars and roughness brush against my own.

I paused, brows furrowing as I looked down at his hand, still outstretched.

I had heard rumours of the Shadowsinger’s burns and yet from the severe scarring it seemed that whatever he had endured was far more horrific than any gossip had detailed.

Azriel didn’t move as I stared at his hands and I didn’t allow myself to appear disgusted or pitiful or anything of the sort. Instead, I reached out my shaky hand and traced a soft line of my fingers over the back of his hand and down his fingers, following the jagged and red scarring.

He shivered, so small it was almost imperceptible but I felt it, and as I raised my eyes and locked them with his I felt a small whoosh of air escape his lungs as if he had been holding it in this entire time.

There was little to be said, nothing that could ease that wound so I smiled, a smile that was genuine enough that I knew he could see the words unspoken in it, see it in my eyes as I watched him. He didn’t reply, merely nodding his head, a small tint now staining his structured cheeks and a smile tilting at the corner of his mouth.

We pulled away from one another, and as Azriel turned back towards the table, I noticed that Cassian and Rhysand had already taken their seats. Rhysand sat at the head of the table, his body leaned back and thighs outstretched with Cassian before him on his right and Azriel taking a seat on the left.

I inhaled deeply, gripping the glass tightly in my hand, conscious not to shatter it from the butterflies swarming in my stomach. I walked silently, intending to sit at the chair beside either Cassian or Azriel but as I moved past Rhysand, his hand gripped mine, his fingers curling gently around my wrist.

I turned, surprised and I chuckled lightly at the smirk that lined his lips.

“Yes, Rhysand?” I asked, quirking my brow up at him and he smirked fiendishly, tugging my hand to pull me toward him.

“I fear I cannot bear to part with you darling” He muttered, purple eyes shining with mischief and teasing as he dragged me over to him.

I rolled my eyes, as I got closer to him, my thighs brushing his “I’m sure you’ll manage-“

I gasped out in shock as he pulled me onto him, his hands swiftly snaking around my hips to settle me on his thigh. I gawked as my hand instinctively flew to his shoulder and it was a miracle that my wine didn’t go flying over him.

“Much better,” He said simply, grinning as I stared at him in bewilderment before taking a casual sip of the wine in his hand.

I heard the amused snickers of both Cassian and Azriel and as my eyes moved to them they flashed wolfish smiles at me, eyes raking over how I sat on Rhysand’s right thigh, my arms clutching onto him for support and my thighs clamped shut.

I was as rigid as a board and I’m sure I looked ridiculous.

I glanced down nervously at Rhysand’s thigh, my body tense against the powerful, thick muscles contorted under me. He didn’t appear to be struggling under my weight and barely seemed to acknowledge me at all.

Rhysand merely sat there, smirking, sipping from the glass in his left hand while the right was wrapped around my waist, his long fingers drawing faint circles against the material just under my breast.

I shivered at the touch, so casual and smooth and yet, it ignited a fire and need within me.

“Are you-“ I breathed, turning my head to fully look at Rhysand, who raised a brow at me “Are you sure I’m not hurting you?”

I started snapping my head back at Cassian laughing, loud and bellowing and my heart plummeted into my stomach like a stone in the sea. I grimaced, my face burning with embarrassment and suddenly I wanted the ground to swallow me up and spit me out somewhere that wasn’t there.

“I’m sorry” Cassian snickered, clutching his chest and I tried to hide the burning in my eyes “Rhys may be smaller than me, but even I can tell that he’s held swords heavier than you.” I paused at his words, my breath stalling as confusion filled me and I looked up quickly at the general.

“Honestly angel,” Cassian said, his face softening “Surely, you don’t think that Rhysand’s that weak?”

The words were quipped jokingly and I felt Rhys shake under me, laughing lightly, Azriel’s lips shifting too. I almost did laugh, but I shook my head, solemn as I looked down at the glass in my hands suddenly finding the liquor more interesting.

“The males I’ve been with…” I paused, a small bitter scoff escaping me and I knew I didn’t need to continue. There was a silence after my words, a silence strong enough that I could hear my heartbeat in my chest.

Why did I say that?

I heard a glass clink against the table, and then a hand was at my chin gently tilting my head up to meet with a familiar sky of purple. I saw the sincerity and resolve in Rhysand’s face as he watched me, that hand now caressing against my cheek soothingly.

“Those males were assholes” He started simply, and my brows rose at how gravelled his tone was. “For any man to see you, to have the honour of being with you and not treating you with the respect and reverence you deserve, he is no real male.”

My breath stuttered as I stared, so captivated by his words, by his eyes and I could not stop how my body seemed to melt against him, seemed to fall into his comfort and warmth.

“Y/N you are many things, intelligent, funny, loyal, kind,” He said, listing off all the things that he had gathered in the last few hours since we had met, and those words lit my heart. “But you’re also utterly beautiful, and perhaps few have said it, perhaps they’ve said otherwise.”

His eyes sparked, dark and dangerous as he saw my expression drop, and saw exactly what males had said to me before. I would have felt embarrassed, and humiliated by that truth if not for how adamantly his eyes sparked in denial.

“But I can speak for myself, and my brothers when I say that we appreciate every inch of you, we desire every inch of you and even if you cannot understand it, it doesn’t cease to be true.” His words became almost as soft as a whisper, and when his eyes lowered to my lips, lowered and flashed with want, I knew exactly what I wanted too.

And I would not hesitate to take it.

I moved with surety, simply placing the glass of wine on the table before turning, my head shifting forward and to the side as I brushed a sweet and needy kiss against Rhysand’s lips. He sighed, a content exhale as his hand cupped my cheek and his lips moved against mine with more resolve.

It was gentle yet consuming, the kind of kiss that made my head spin and my body utterly numb. I was overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips against mine, his tongue sweeping teasingly and his hands caressing me, holding me like a lifeline.

I could faintly taste the sweetness of the wine on his tongue and I moaned quietly, my body shivering at the deep groan that reverberated in Rhysand’s chest in response. My fingers grip the fabric of his shirt tighter as his tongue fans over mine, and his hand digs possessively into my waist, trapping me against his chest.

My brain was beginning to fog over, and my body igniting with need and pleasure as Rhysand slowly pulled away, his teeth dragging across my bottom lip as he did so, eliciting a gasping mewl from my lips.

I fluttered my eyes open, flustered and breathless as I met Rhysand’s gaze and I felt a deep unrelenting shiver rush over me at the thrill I saw in his eyes.

I bit my lip, the realisation that Cassian and Azriel watched us drawing me back to reality and I felt guilt riddle me that I wasn’t being fair with my attention. I drew back slightly, shifting to maybe move to Cassian or Azriel but Rhysand’s arm tightened like an iron grip around me.

“Your brothers are going to think you’re being greedy, High Lord” I purred as I looked back over my shoulder and Rhysand’s deep, low laugh in reply made me feel dizzy.

“I don’t know, they seem like they’re enjoying themselves” Rhysand shrugged and instinctively my head turned forward, eyes shifting to the two silent, immovable males before me. They sat, eyes dark, smirks feral and I could smell the arousal and desire in the air as they kept their gazes locked upon me.

“In fact” Rhysand continued and I could hear the smile in his voice, “I think they might even have some pointers.”

I blinked, my brows furrowing in confusion but I slowly understand what he meant as I felt Rhysand begin kissing against my neck, wet and sucking against the skin there. I huffed a breath, my eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he closed his lips and flattened his tongue against a soft spot.

“Keep your eyes on us sweetheart” Azriel muttered, his voice clouded and the authority behind it made me quickly bat them open again, a blush tinting my cheeks at the approving smirk he gave in response.

Rhysand continued kissing his way down the curve of my neck and as he settled my back against his chest I sighed, my chest rising and falling heavily at the feeling of his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

His hands began to wander, playful, careless glides of his finger over my sides, up and down my thigh kneading the flesh there, between and under my breasts, everywhere but the places I needed him.

“Rhysand” I groaned, sneering in annoyance as yet against his fingers trailed over my breast skimming the sensitive and pebbled nipple, but he didn’t stay there for long.

He laughed, kissing my collarbone and my back arched as his hands trailed high up to the apex of my thighs.

And stopped.

I groaned, growling low in my throat as my annoyed scowl flickered to the smirking, arrogant High Lord under me. He blinked, raising his brow in a challenge and I couldn’t help how my thighs clenched in response.

“Rhysand’s being very mean,” Cassian tsked, chuckling and as my eyes flicked to his he grinned, licking his lips as he leaned forward to rest his arms on his knees. “Give our angel what she wants.”

“And what’s that?” Rhysand asked, his voice dripping with faux innocence, his nose brushing the length of my throat. I bit my lip, holding back my gasp even as my cheeks began to heat with embarrassment.

“She wants you to touch her,” Azriel said quietly, hypnotically “She wants you to really touch her.”

My breaths began to stutter as Rhysand’s right hand grazed under my breast and he began tracing one long-ringed finger over my breast and across my nipple, visible through my dress.

I exhaled harshly, watching as he traced circles around the sensitive bud, his touch going from barely there to firmer. The room was silent as his hand moved up and he cupped my breast in his large hand, his fingers pinching my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

A moan slipped from my lips as he tugged, a content smile gracing his face as my body began to shiver slightly under the ministrations of his hands at my breast.

“Is that better, angel?” Cassian cooed, his hand coming up to rub at his face, his eyes unable to leave the hand that cupped me. I breathed out as Rhysand’s fingers played with my other nipple, rolling the bud in deft circles.

“No,” Azriel said, a knowing glint in his eyes as he cocked his head “It’s not enough, is it sweetheart?”

I swallowed once, my eyes captivated by his gaze and despite how hot my face felt, I shook my head in agreement, revelling in the smirk Azriel gave me.

“No?” Rhysand asked, his voice whispered against my ear.

I bit my lip in anticipation as his hand left my chest and slowly, so tauntingly slow, began descending my stomach. He drew casual and lazy circles against the flesh of my stomach as he glided lower, and I wasn’t sure if I was more breathless at the fact he was touching my stomach or that he was getting closer to where I needed him most.

He paused at the slit at the side of my dress, revealing the skin at my thigh and if moved, the underwear I wore beneath.

“Here?” He breathed, biting the lobe of my ear gently when I didn’t respond. I watched his hand, watched with desperation as it stroked near the seam of that slit and rested there.

“More” I pleaded, not caring how desperate I sounded.

“Tsk” Azriel shook his head, enjoying my pleas “Such a needy girl.”

“She is a needy girl” Rhysand agreed, his fingers slipping under the dress for a second before stroking back out again. I sighed, screwing my eyes shut in a mixture of pleasure and frustration, my body wound so tight, I could barely think.

“Come on, look at her” Cassian sighed, impatience lining his handsome face. “Give her what she wants… what she needs Rhys.”

Rhysand cocked his head and I glanced at him, nearly pouting at the taunting smirk he threw at me. But my body settled, melting as his hand slipped completely under the dress and cupped right against my clothed cunt.

“Fuck” He growled, slipping into an uncontained sort of provocation as the palm of his hand pressed against me. I moaned quietly, and his body trembled under me “So fucking wet.”

I didn’t hesitate to shift my position as Rhysand’s other hand guided me to spread my thighs, so that one lay sprawled over his thigh, exposing my simple black thong to Cassian and Azriel. Nerves bubbled in my stomach at the vulnerability but as they stared, infatuated and as Rhysand ran his fingers over the slit, my mind went blissfully blank.

It seemed that no one had the patience for mocking anymore, not as Rhysand’s hand lifted and traced over the band of my underwear.

“May I?” He asked quietly, nuzzling into the curve of my neck affectionately.

“Please” I whispered.

He groaned low in his throat as he slipped those deft fingers passed the material and into my thong.

I inhaled as he ran a finger over me, the rough callouses of his battle-trained hands rubbing against my most sensitive part eliciting breathy moans from my lips. Rhys exhaled deeply, his eyes blazing as he ran two fingers down, collecting the wetness there.

“Rhys” I sighed and I felt pure male satisfaction from him as he messily rubbed my wetness up against my aching clit.

“Fuck” I heard Cassian groan, his voice husky with appreciation and I blinked my heavy eyes open, my body lighting as the two males intently watched me, their eyes glued to the spot between my legs and Rhysand’s hand slowly circling within.

“Faster” Azriel commanded, his face hard and eyes unmoving I arched my back and screwed my eyes as Rhysand followed his words, two fingers rubbing swift circles against my clit.

I writhed, unable to keep my eyes open as pleasure rocked through me, my hips grinding back and forth as I ride Rhysand’s fingers, his lips at my neck encouraging and indulgent. His pace is firm and steady, rubbing against a spot that has my thighs clenching from how good it feels.

“Cauldron, Rhys I can’t-“ I whimper, my head now back against his shoulder, one hand gripping the material of my dress while the other dug my nails into Rhysand’s forearm.

“That’s it” He praised gruffly, his other hand coming up tugging at my sensitive nipples.

“I think she’s close Rhysand” Cassian mused and I could hear the pleased grin on his lips.

“Are you darling?” He asked, his fingers never stopping, his body pressing me unbelievably close to him as he muttered hoarsely against my ear. “Are you close?”

My legs began to tremble as that familiar chord within me tightened and my breathing began stuttering out as I shook my head, my lips parting to say yes but my brain was too fogged over for any words to leave my mouth.

My lips gaped open again and I felt that chord within me snap as Rhysand’s fingers shifted a little to the left. I gasped, moaning and writhing, my hips bucking as pleasure and release coursed through me like a tidal wave. Rhys hummed in approval, his fingers continuing their punishing pace against me.

“Look at how good she looks, moaning while she comes all over your hand brother,” Azriel said, and the dirty words had my back arching and hands fisting as I rode through the pleasure sparking through me.

I exhaled and inhaled sharply, my chest rising and falling as Rhysand’s fingers slowed, guiding me through my high before eventually stopping. I tried to even out my breathing, focusing on the smooth feel of Rhysand’s wet fingers now on the skin of my thigh and I slowly blinked my eyes open, lifting my groggy head from his shoulder as I did so.

My face was flushed and my body still trembled from the aftermath of Rhysand’s touch as my eyes locked with a grinning Cassian, a more subdued but satisfied Azriel and then back to Rhysand, who lifted his lips in a gratified lazy smirk.

“You look pretty worn out darling” Rhysand noted, smug and smirking and I rolled my eyes at his male satisfaction, even if he was in fact right.

“Sure you can handle two more Illyrian males tonight?” He cocked his head and images appeared inside my mind again.

Cassian, his hands gripping my waist as he wrapped his lips around my nipples, teeth tugging against the hard flesh. And then of Azriel, on his knees before me, head between my thighs, scarred hands holding down my flailing hips.

I shivered as the promised images dissolved and reality came flooding back, Rhysand’s filthy and seductive grin rippling over me like electricity.

I smiled softly, turning my gaze to Cassian and Azriel, both of whom looked on the edge of their seats, bursting with restraint and appetite.

“It’ll take more than that to burn me out,” I shrugged, raising my brow at them in a challenge.

And I felt my toes curl in anticipation as both their eyes lit with fire and they smirked.

_____________________________________

@queenofangrymoths @satellitesunshine @highlady-ofillyria @ladespedidas @illyrian-dreamer @magical-mischief-makers @lyracarvahall @ummmmmwat @eerievixen @bitchyinternetinfluencer @meritxellao @rachelnicolee @fanfictioniseverything @queen-of-arda @magdalenka @bunnymallowo @azzydaddy

#acotar #sjmaas #azriel acotar #rhysand #cassian acotar #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #rhysand x reader #acotar smut #plus size reader #rhys x reader #bat boys x reader #smut

[heartfullofleeches]

Oh boy i hope this sends, but I've been getting such brainrot from the museum asks and I had an idea for another type of au. We've had security guard reader, owner reader, and painting reader, but i thought of an art restorer/art historian reader. Basically someone who really cares about the artwork itself and the finer details and history of the art and the process of it being created. I think it'd be really interesting having a reader who's job it is to go fix the broken works, think about the attachment that the peices that they fix would have. The art would think reader is so gentle and caring, so careful with them and mending them back to their original state before they where ruined. I still think the rest of the museum would come to love them too, they would hear about how much reader cared and would grow attached too, some may even rip themselfs apart in hopes of having readers loving hands mend them back together creating marks that the reader made embedded into them forever. But I feel like the original peices inside the restoration closet that we saw in the owner reader ask would have a stronger and more protective attachment to the reader. The ones who were thrown into a closet and left to rot inside a dark crowed closet only to be saved by their savior and painstakingly put back into their former glory would never allow anything to tarnish the one who saved them.

"Alright, let's try you again."

You insert the crescent shaped key into its designated hole. Twisting the handle, you wind the clock until no longer able; inner mechanisms taut round the key's bronze teeth. Pulling it free, you wait the results of your experiment with fingers crossed. The clock slowly whirls to life; wooden hands gravitating towards the center of its spilt chest as its head sinks forward. You celebrate your success with a pat on the back; congratulating yourself too soon as everything unfolds before your eyes.

The clock stops halfway through its greeting; body twitching and jerking as it fights to complete its given function. The convulsions and angle it hangs at damages the adhesive keeping its faceplate in tack; the panel falling to the ground with a loud clack. The gears of its left arm snap under the stress and join its other part on the floor. Nearing the end of the cycle, the clock stops moving completely and stands still.

"No. No. No!" You scramble across the floor to pick up the pieces, checking for any damages as you carry them over to the table. You sigh in relief and frustration as you look at the tools scattered across your workspace. "I really thought I had it this time..."

You set the parts down and accept your defeat. Your job was both the occupation of your dreams, and your nightmares. Head of the restoration team for the town's art gala, as well as its sole member. All your coworkers left within the span of the first year, but it's not like you mind. Their departure only left you alone with the art works. Fragments of history and creative minds that you alone had the honor to restore. There were some hurdles with mediums you'd yet to figure out, but you'd tackle them on your own or the begrudging assistant of others. The current object of your fixations was a piece of said status, and you worked until closing to try things your way before the repair team came the following morning. You look at the clock with guilt embedded into your soul.

It was human in shape; crafted of polished wood, glass, and metal. A perfect union between machine and nature. Housed in its torso was a clock hidden behind a leather corset which could be opened by inserting the key into the carved heart on its chest. Its face was made up of the image of a sun with closed eyes and rays over lapped in the center; producing a sun dial when opened. The rays were made of twisted metal and colored glass between each knot.

When the clock was wound, its tended function was to bow before the keyhole as it opened its chest cavity. The action would be followed up by it opening its face so that the sunlight may hit the hidden dial. Its creator supposedly worked by an open window and that was his preferred way to tell the time.

You step back over to it, examining its remaining hand. Only two fingers were in tact, and there was some chipping paint caked beneath its nails. You scratch away the crimson and meet its face with an apologetic smile.

"Well, I know it wasn't ideal, but at least we got to spend more time together today. The guys who can do what I can't will be in tomorrow."

You kiss its steal cheek and grab your things as you head out; wishing the other pieces in the room a goodnight on your way. Poor things. Before you came they were just locked in the storage room to rot or eventually be displayed in betrayal of their former glory. As you walk through the empty gallery, you read over the clock's documents that you had captured on your phone. Its origin was apparently France; belonging to a lonely clockmaker who had dealt with the passing of his family the year prior. Its rumored to have been made in memory of his spouse who had to reminded him that life didn't evolve around his craft. He may have forgotten to kiss them goodmorning each day, but he always made sure it tend to his clocks.

Your phone clatters to the floor as you bump into the door. You try its handle. Locked. Made since due to it being after closing, but that was just rude. Your boss did tell you not to stay after work.... No matter, it's not like you were there for the overtime. You reach into your bag for your keys.

What?

You shake the bag around, but you can't hear their jingling. You search through; shaking the bag harder incase they under all the clutter - but they aren't there. Losing your keys now was probably the worst of times with the recent report of a break in.

"Shit... I must've left them in the office." You hurry back to your post, stopped by a sound from the neighboring hall. It seems like nothing at first - till you make out the laughter. You speed up your return - back at the door in a quarter of the time it took you to reach the front door. You legs ache from climbing three flights in record time, but you didn't feel like going all the way down the lobby to the elevator. Grabbing the doorknob, you overhead part of a conversation as you crack the door.

"The dawn is so far away... I miss them already."

A muffled reply.

"Ah, don't give me that. If anyone feels bad about ruining their hardwork me."

Another, this time in a different tone.

"You're all just jealous. You'll get your turn soon so be patient."

You ease the door open more.

"We'll tell them what you did."

The main speaker snarls.

"You wouldn't dare... As if you had no part in it."

You peer through the crack; ready to face the potential danger, but unprepared for what you witness. It's difficult to see, but you can make out shadows moving along the walls in the same placement as the paintings waiting to be restored. To your horror, you realize they are just that; the object of each piece brought to lift in a different form. Their imperfections carry over. A king's upper face distorted by smudges made by rain water. A maiden's left side burnt off and discolored like a charred piece of paper.

The paintings center their attention of the mannequin in the middle of the room attaching an arm back to their wooden body. The clock. It back talks to its fellow inhabitants as it repairs itself; the detached limb miming a talking mouth.

"All you lot ever do is whine. The bond between Y/n and I is apparent and as powerful as new dawn, but we are all important to them and we must make sure our doors always remain open to them."

You pull your hand away from the door; unsure of your next course of action. Your phone sits in your hand, emergency services at the dial, but this really didn't seem like something they could handle. As if the situation couldn't get worse, the clock doll notices your keys on the table. They pick them up, porcelain eyelids drawing back as they examine the company issued key ring.

"These... are theirs."

The room kicks up in commotion.

"Something of Y/n's? Give it to me!"

"You sound like that Scavenger on the first floor, but for good reason."

"They're mine."

The clock holds up a finger. "Hush. Don't you realize what this means? Since these are here... That means they are too."

It turns its head towards the door. Something tells you that if it could've smiled - it would've. It sticks something into its chest that looks like an amalgamation of scrap; turning the makeshift key as it draws close. With no other choice, you close the door right as its face appears in the crack. Your barricade rattles in its frame as a heavy fist makes contact. You both know it won't last long.

"Y/n... Sunshine~ Open the door. I'm sorry I didn't work right for you earlier. I just want to spend as much time with you as possible. Although you're playing keep away, it feels so good to talk to you. We all have waited to speak with you for so long.."

Through the banging, you can hear their call.

"Don't go... Come in, give us new life so we can use it to welcome you."

"Can tonight be my turn? Make me reborn in your image."

"We love you. We need you."

"This is your home, Y/n." The clock concludes. "Nobody appreciates your craft more than us. Your talents here are worshipped."

Your grip on the door loosens. It slips from your hands before you can realize. You fall to your knees, but there's hands waiting to pick you up. They've always been there - hiding in plain sight, longing for the day they could hold you. With another night at it end in the gallery, their embrace would forever remain.

#Night gallery tag #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere x darling #yandere teratophilia #soft yandere #yandere drabble