Tumgik
#I know you’re doing something but this ain’t it
ham1lton · 2 days
Text
summer came like cinnamon (so sweet)
pairing(s): logan sargeant x reader. oscar piastri x reader.
warnings: mentions of mental health, dieting, fractured friendships and constant mention of jim’s ice cream parlour. also different povs, it goes through the minds of all three of the main characters.
summary: after their rookie season, in a bid to repair their friendship, the two drivers decide to take their new paycheques and go explore the sun, sea and sands of greece. what they didn’t anticipate was to bump into you.
wordcount: 5.6k
author’s note: this is my first semi-interactive fic, please give it some love <3 any major issues in travelling and stuff like in terms of logistics? please ignore. also let me know who you’re planning on choosing. team oscar or team logan?
— wanna be updated on the next parts? join my taglist! —
— part one of the summer lovin’ series. —
[ i ain’t a kid no more / we’ll never be those kids again ]
logan didn’t know why he was so overwhelmed with anxiety, when he knocked on oscar’s door on that rainy thursday night.
this was his oscar, the oscar that had practically grown up with him. the one who knew how he liked his toast and that he was fond of a burger with all the extras. that he had a scar on his left ankle from when he was a kid and wrestled with his brother after watching too much wwe.
ever since he had signed to williams and oscar had been a mclaren driver, they had hardly talked in comparison to their pre-formula one days. when he had crashed out during a race, he half expected oscar to text him or come knocking on his hotel door.
he didn’t. logan pretended he wasn’t surprised.
fuck it. bite the bullet. he lifted his hand high and knocked on the door. three quick taps in succession.
“one moment!” oscar called from inside. logan would wait, even if that old lady from room 135 kept looking at him like he was an intruder. maybe he was. he hadn’t been in oscar’s room for a while.
oscar opened the door with messy hair and a shirt that had been clearly shoved on before he opened the door.
“logan? hi.” oscar swallowed. the awkwardness in the space between the two of them felt heavy. “you okay mate?”
“yeah! yeah.” logan fake laughed, rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans. “just wanted to come see you.”
“i’m here.” oscar grinned, with no teeth, at his own joke. “wanna come in?”
“sure. kinda awkward talking in the hallway anyways. that old lady is about five minutes from calling the cops on me.”
“oh that’s just brenda.” oscar said after leaning out and getting a glance at the woman, who waved at him. he waved back. “she’s harmless.”
logan followed oscar into his room. it was bigger than his and he didn’t know if feeling jealous was appropriate. he had felt many emotions when it came to oscar; happy, sad, angry, and others. he didn’t want jealousy to join the list.
“sorry, my room is a mess. i wasn’t expecting company.” oscar laughed with no heart behind it as he sat down on his unmade bed. “take a seat logan, you’re giving me anxiety just standing around.”
logan immediately sits down on the desk chair.
“so, what are your plans for the summer?”
“mine?” oscar thinks to himself. “probably just to go see my family and my friends back home.”
“i was thinking maybe we could, i don’t know.” logan bites his lip anxiously. “do something together?”
“like what?” oscar is curious now, his eyes focused.
“maybe go on that european holiday we always talked about? we have the money now and no parents to tell us no like last time.” logan speaks in a rush. “but obviously if you say no, dude that’s totally fine.”
logan looks at oscar, who’s actually considering it? he thinks to himself for a moment before turning to logan.
“how many days?”
“as long as you’d like.”
“where would we go?”
“anywhere you’d want.”
“make a decision, logan. i’ll say yes or no.”
“we always wanted to go to greece? how about there? maybe for three weeks?”
“we should go for a month. we can travel.”
wait. so that means? oscar’s face is still impassive. he doesn’t say yes or no, but he is still considering it. that’s a positive.
“that’s fine. i’m flexible.”
“i’ll plan it.” oscar nods.
“so is that a yes?”
“obviously.” oscar finally smiles, open and dazzling. logan grins too, allowing himself to bask in the approval. he was almost 67% sure that oscar would say no. he’d already done the maths, but it wasn’t his strongest subject anyways.
“i’ll text you the details.” oscar nods and logan gets up, running a hand through his hair. giddy with happiness that he’ll finally win his best friend back. this’ll be the trip that heals them. that heals him.
-❀-
oscar gets stressed when he’s not in charge. everything has to go through him. the plans, the schedule and especially the driving. he’s never liked being in the passenger seat. his hands get fidgety and he doesn’t know how to calm them down.
he’s lucky that logan is all too happy to sit in it, his eyes focused on making the perfect road trip playlist. for some reason, they’d decided to drive from london all the way down to munich.
they’d already driven down from london and through the eurotunnel and took a break sightseeing in france - which oscar had already scheduled for. they ate their weight in croissants. they ate steak and frites. logan had bought them matching ‘i ♥︎ paris’ t-shirts and oscar rolled his eyes but packed it neatly in his suitcase anyways.
they hadn’t talked about anything other than surface level topics. logan talking about his favourite sports teams, them both discussing the grid and plans for the upcoming season and the usual small talk about their family’s wellbeings.
they didn’t talk about how they ignored each other unless a camera necessitated a conversation. they didn’t talk about logan’s bad season. they stayed up till stupid hours watching badly dubbed french movies and ordering takeout.
they drove to germany, dropped off their rental car and then got a plane from munich to athens. it wasn’t very long at all but logan still curled up against the window and tried to sleep. they were both connected to the spotify account on logan’s phone - logan using his headphones and oscar with his airpods. their road trip playlist still playing.
oscar didn’t know why he didn’t take them out, even when the playlist inevitably repeated itself.
-❀-
they’d been in athens all of two days when they met you. logan had gone an insanely bright red when he’d forgotten his sunscreen had ran out. oscar laughed at first but then ran to the nearest pharmacy to grab emergency sunscreen and aloe vera for the both of them.
after slathering themselves, they’d decided to seek refuge in a small ice cream store. despite the hot weather, the store was almost completely empty besides the two of them and you. you were fiddling with your phone in the corner as you attempted to hook it up to the speakers.
“fuck’s sake!” you shout quietly, frustratingly trying to make it work. “i can’t do this shift without any music. my thoughts’ll drive me insane.”
“um?” oscar breaks the awkward silence. you jump and turn around. the first thing that they both notice is that you’re pretty. really pretty. even in the unflattering oversized neon green work t-shirt.
“sorry! sorry! i apologise. i didn’t think anyone was in the shop. please forgive me.” you look flustered as you move to quickly wash your hands and dry them. “what would you both like today?”
to be honest, logan hadn’t been thinking about the ice cream. oscar didn’t need to think, he was going to get his usual order.
“can i get two scoops of mint chocolate chip?”
“oh that’s disgusting. i forgot that you eat that.” logan shakes his head in shock.
“it’s good. you’re just a hater.” oscar rolls his eyes. “stick to your boring vanilla.”
“it’s a classic!” logan turns to you and asks for two scoops of vanilla and one scoop of mango. you smile and begin to start their orders.
“you guys aren’t from around here, are you?” you ask.
“nah. the accents give it away?” logan laughs as he slings an arm around oscar’s shoulder. oscar rolls his eyes again but makes no move to push him away.
“yeah. a little bit.” you pinch your fingers together as you say it. “i’m not really from here either.”
“no?” oscar replies this time, curious.
“international student. this was one of the few places that’d hire me with my insane schedule. i’m lucky i have the next month off, thankfully.”
“aren’t you going back home?”
“i could if i wasn’t scheduled to work here practically every day for the next month.” you finish logan’s order and move on to oscar’s. you shrug. “and i need the money. the job could be worse really, i just wish the speaker fucking worked and the air conditioning. luckily i stand close to the ice cream.”
“what do you study?”
“archaeology.”
“best place for that is probably here.”
“yes. i don’t know why but ever since i was a little girl i knew i wanted to come to greece and study here. this is the less glamorous side of it but i’m here doing what i love.”
“that’s all that matters right?” logan chimes in. you nod as you scan their orders into your till.
“that’ll be €7.62.” you say. “cash or card?”
“cash.” oscar says as he pulls out his wallet. he’s infinitely glad he’d prepared and went to the cash exchange in london before he’d left. logan doesn’t even bother to offer, he picks up his ice cream and starts to eat it.
oscar hands you the cash as logan moves to a booth right by the open door to take advantage of the breeze. you count back the change and place it right in his hand. his heart doubles a beat as your hands touch for a moment but the moment is broken as your phone suddenly decides that now is the time to work.
the speakers start blaring natasha bedingfield’s ‘pocketful of sunshine’. you curse, close the till with your hip and turn to fiddle with the playlist.
oscar thinks he’s a little in love.
-❀-
logan knows that oscar likes you, which is a problem because he likes you too.
this road trip was supposed to be about finding themselves, not finding you. yet, when they find themselves back in your ice cream store the next few days, it’s no coincidence.
“you’re back again! the american and australian.” on day four, you’re not alone this time. you have a colleague, a girl who’s slightly older than you. she smirks at the two of them like she knows a secret they don’t know. “i’m not the only international one here!”
the speakers seem to work normally today, playing elton john as you hum along with it. your colleague decides that it’s time to take her lunch break, slipping off her apron and leaving the three of you to it.
“same thing as every day? or are we changing it up?”
“what do you recommend?” logan asks earnestly. he’s not losing oscar to you, maybe if he charms you enough, you’ll pick him. he doubts you will.
“everything is good here but if you really want my opinion? the chocolate fudge is a real crowd pleaser.”
“i’ll take two scoops of that and oscar’ll just have mint chocolate.” logan pulls out his wallet, opens it to find a mix of euros in there. he takes a moment to pick at the right change when you shake your head at him.
“no, it’s fine. it’s on the house today. i’m in a good mood.”
“why?”
“a lot of reasons. you know what? i forgot that i didn’t even introduce myself. i’m y/n.”
“we know.” oscar is amused.
“how? are you psychic? i used to know a psychic once and i also watched that’s so raven. great show.”
“your name badge.” logan nods at your shirt as he eats a spoonful of ice cream. you were right, it’s amazing. not too sickly but just the right amount of chocolate.
“oh.” you bite your lip in embarrassment as oscar takes his ice cream.
“i’m oscar and the american is logan.” logan smiles and waves his free hand at you. “is the shop always this empty?”
“no. it’s really busy after school and at peak times. you just always come quite early. lucky. it’s hell in here when it’s busy.” you seem relieved for the topic change. “you both here on holiday?”
“yeah. a break from our jobs.”
“lucky. my best friend is back home and i wish she was with me. she’s planning on coming up at some point thankfully. i hate being here without all my friends.”
“i can be your friend.” logan says. then he immediately regrets it. what if you think that he’s a weirdo? but when your face lights up, he realises that regret was a fleeting feeling.
“i’d love that. let me take your number. one of the guys from my class is hosting a beach party tonight if you both wanna come.”
logan looks at oscar who shrugs as if to say ‘i don’t mind if you don’t’. logan turns back to you, who is the middle of unlocking your phone and grins.
“we’ll be there.”
he types his number in your phone and sends a message to himself to save yours.
“i’ll text you the details.”
the speaker interrupts the moment that you have as it starts to malfunction. you curse again and throw your hands up in annoyance.
“stupid fucking speaker! so stupid!”
-❀-
Tumblr media
the party is already well underway, when oscar and logan arrive. logan didn’t bother with buttoning up his shirt. he wasn’t necessarily the most confident man in the world but he was comfortable with his nakedness in a way that oscar didn’t think he’d ever be. oscar was in a undershirt with a loose overshirt.
you finally make your way over to them, panting slightly. you’re wearing a plain white bikini with an open oversized orange and yellow patterned hawaiian shirt. your hair is free from the bun they’ve seen you in work with. you smile, easy and happy.
“my two favourite customers!” you sling an arm around the two of them, hugging them so close that they can smell your perfume. “come on, let me introduce you to the five other people i know.”
you lead them down to the bonfire, where three girls and two other guys are crowded around. they cheer when you arrive with the two of them.
“guys, this is oscar and logan.” they wave politely. “oscar and logan, this is anya, jerome, alex, sienna and jaya.”
the group all cheer and welcome the two guys. it’s clear that everyone is already buzzed. oscar has never really been a big drinker so he declines a beer when offered. logan shotguns it, the residue dripping down his face. you laugh and attempt to wipe it off his face. logan goes lax in your touch and oscar can’t watch anymore.
the speaker that someone played is playing shakira as the two of you giggle in your own little world. oscar turns to jerome? or was it alex? and starts a conversation. talking about some footy game that they were watching earlier. oscar is about as into football as the next guy, but he really needs to focus on something else besides the two of you.
oscar knew that logan had always harboured some sort of inferiority complex when it came to the two of them, but logan had something that oscar doesn’t think he’d ever have - being genuinely likeable.
oscar knew he’d have to win because no one would support him as a loser. logan is just likeable regardless of what position he’s in - an underdog if he loses and a force of nature when he wins.
likeable gets the girl.
-❀-
you decide to walk the two of them to the end of the beach. the night is inky black and the only light is the remnants of the bonfire you’d lit earlier. logan is buzzed, oscar is distant and you’re still vibrating from the fact that logan made the two of you run into the cold water with him in the middle of the night.
“tonight was fun! i’m glad you were both able to make it!” you lean in and hug them both goodbye. logan swears you’d lingered a little longer while hugging him. “i’ll see you both at jim’s ice cream?”
“what is that?” logan asks bluntly. oscar elbows him lightly, not hard enough to cause damage but just enough to wind him slightly.
“the ice cream parlour she works at dumbass.” he turns to you. “we’ll see you there”
“well, i do work there. so yeah.” you laugh. all twinkly and bright. then you’re waving and jogging back to your friends. oscar watches logan look at you and sighs.
“come on man, let’s get you back.”
-❀-
logan wakes up with a hangover the next morning. oscar is a good friend and runs to the continental free breakfast and sneaks him out some waffles, croissants and eggs. he walks to the pharmacy again, paying for some ibuprofen (at least he hopes that’s what it is) with his cash and runs to the corner store to grab some extra snacks.
logan’s eyes are wide with both joy and disbelief. joy that something is there for his splitting headache and disbelief that oscar would do that for him. oscar feels a little ball of guilt unravelling inside. how bad had he let their friendship become?
they spend the day inside for the most part. watching television together. then they go outside to the pool, logan immediately jumps in but oscar sits on the side. he pulls out his phone and scrolls through the texts that he’s been ignoring. the ones from some friends, his mum, and you?
it’s not a coincidence right? that you spent the whole evening with logan and text him the next day?
he holds the phone close to his chest. he doesn’t want logan seeing this. he doesn’t know why that is. he quickly texts you back. then logan shouts.
Tumblr media
“hey oscar! come in! the water is gorgeous.”
oscar grins and slips into the water, keeping his shirt on.
-❀-
the two of them end up at the steak restaurant together that night. they’re both dressed as nicely as possible. oscar in a nice sweater and logan in a dress shirt. the maître d’ smiled knowingly at the two of them and led them to their table.
“he thinks we’re together.” oscar whispers to logan.
“are we not?”
“we are in the literal sense. i meant in the romantic, relationship sort of sense.” logan laughs and bats his eyelashes all coy.
“oh no! oscar are you breaking up with me?”
“obviously. i’m leaving you for my secretary.” oscar’s deadpan voice just makes logan laugh harder.
“i knew it, that skank! i’ll get him fired.” oscar laughs too, breaking out into an easy smile that comes easily when logan’s around.
the sounds of the restaurant move around the two of them as they peruse the menu for a long time. it’s been a while with no conversation when oscar bites the bullet and brings it up.
“hey.” logan looks up. “i’m sorry.”
“for the secretary? don’t be. i’m running away with the pool boy.” oscar shakes his head, smiling.
“no.” oscar says. “for what happened. letting our friendship fall to the sidelines. i didn’t mean it but it didn’t excuse it. i really do like being your friend logan. i wouldn’t jeopardise that.”
logan is silent. oscar wonders if he’s crossed some unspoken line. he bites the inside of his cheek and looks at the wall of the restaurant’s decor. it’s all dark in here. would it kill them to buy some light bulbs? he understands its for ‘ambiance’ and that shit but he’s worried that he won’t be able to find his steak in the darkness.
“i was gonna say i was sorry. i thought it was my fault. that you didn’t want to be friends with,” he cuts himself off, laughing awkwardly. “a loser.”
“no. that wasn’t it. you’re not a loser, not to me.”
“i am. that’s a fact. it’s okay. you’re very nice for that but, it’s just not true.” logan swallows thickly. “now, should i get potatoes or fries as my sides?”
oscar doesn’t comment on logan’s facial expression, that he looks like he’s holding it together by a thread. he knew emotional vulnerability took a lot out of him but it was harder on the person who admitted failure.
“potatoes.” logan grins and nods before calling over the waiter.
-❀-
the next time you saw the two guys was two days after the bonfire party. they came in laughing at a joke that had happened way before they had even walked in. you find yourself standing up as soon as they enter.
“hi! y/n!” logan’s smile is always wide and happy to see you. oscar’s smile is muted but it’s still sweet. “what would you recommend for me? i liked the chocolate fudge.”
“hmm,” you think, running your hand along the counter. “we have a new flavour, chocolate covered raspberry? it’s quite popular. i think you’d like it.”
“i trust your judgement, ice cream girl.”
you crack a smile at the nickname, the smile so big that it momentarily hurts your face for a moment. you turn to oscar.
“and what about you?”
“same as usual, two scoops of vanilla.”
you nod, getting to work on the ice creams. you even offer to pay for them but they argue, threatening to shove it all in the tip jar anyway. oscar pays and when your back is turned, logan shoves twice the amount into the tip jar.
“wanna sit with us in the booth today y/n?” logan asks, taking a spoonful of his ice cream. “it’s not like anyones here.”
oscar looks up at you with his wide eyes, not really eating his ice cream. he just swirls it, until it turns into a sort of thick soup. you shrug and slide into the booth across from the two of them. you don’t have anything else to do and if a customer does decide to walk in? well, you’ll just slide back behind the counter.
“so, what’s your plan for the future?” logan grins. “and i know it’s the worst possible question to ask any young person but i’m curious. what’s the goal? is there one? it’s okay if there isn’t.”
“dream is to become an archeologist and backup plan? i don’t know. work in an office or something? maybe teaching. i haven’t thought that far ahead just yet.” you bite your lip and look out the window for a second. the day is hot, and you’re stuck inside. “what about you two? what do you do?”
“we uh, we drive.” logan looks at oscar.
“oh like uber? cool.”
“yeah, isn’t it?” oscar smiles at you.
“i still haven’t gotten my licence just yet. taxis aren’t too expensive and public transport is decent. also everywhere i need to be is pretty much walkable.” you smile at them. “have you visited all the touristy places yet?”
“not everywhere but we’re here for a while. we’re going to travel to santorini, mykonos and corfu. i’ve already planned them out.” oscar swallows his bite of ice cream. “scheduled to the exact moment we get there and get back.”
“an exotic european vacation.” you grin, waggling your eyebrows. logan laughs despite the joke not being very funny. “i’m jealous.”
“you could come with us.” oscar blurts out, his cheeks pinkening. “you’re probably busy though right? don’t worry about it. it’s weird.”
“no, no. it’s not. it’s very sweet and tempting.” you look outside the window again. “i’m not free for the whole time, but, definitely i could join you for a week? jim won’t care.”
“jim’s a real person?” logan asks, eyes wide. you laugh.
“yeah! he’s british actually. came over here when he retired and bought this place. he was one of the few people that’d hire me. my mum’s british.” you nod. “it’s a pretty decent job. if you ignore these hideous uniforms.”
you pull on the neon jim’s ice cream parlour shirt, face crumpling in disgust.
“you look good.” logan says, shyly, as he tongues the last of his ice cream. “this is good too. the ice cream. i knew i trusted you for a reason.”
-❀-
santorini is exactly like the instagram photos. well, despite being slightly too hot, a little less vibrant and he’s here with you and logan. logan has kept his shirt on this time, a loose linen blue one with a pair of shorts and flip flops. you’re dressed in a white skirt, a cropped tank top with a massive handbag.
oscar wants to do something crazy, like reach out and hold your hand or put his arm around your shoulders. he doesn’t because he’s not insane but he thinks about it for a solid moment. thinks about the way you’d curl into him or the way your shampoo would smell. he shakes his head.
“you don’t like it?” the two of you turn to look at him. fantastic. now he looks weird. his eyes widen.
“no, no! i love it. it’s lovely.” he reaches into his pocket, shaking hands grabbing his phone as he takes a picture. “i was thinking about the best angle to take this picture for my mum.”
“i’ll take a photo of you against the backdrop? maybe the both of you. your mum might like that. logan said you two were childhood best friends right?”
oscar nods. at least you bought his story. he stands against the barrier and smiles, awkwardly. he’s sure that all the other tourists are looking at him and thinking ‘what a weirdo, his crush on her is so obvious. she wants his best friend clearly, why even try?’
after a moment, logan stands next to him. logan dissipates the awkwardness with a wave of his hand and the two of them fall into an easy grin. when logan leans in and tells a joke, oscar finds himself laughing loudly with the click of your camera as background noise.
he sends it to his mother later on, when he’s in his hotel room with logan snoring in the room across from him. she texts him back quickly.
-❀-
— from mum.
well, it looks like you’re having fun honey!
— to mum.
yeah, i am.
-❀-
it doesn’t even feel like a lie when he messages her back in the cooling heat.
-❀-
it’s three days into the trip and two weeks into knowing the guys that you realise that you have a crush. it’s only a small inkling but you know it’s serious because no matter how much you try to dissuade it, it keeps popping up.
when you’re eating, when you’re brushing your teeth and even when you’re picking your outfit with him in mind. does he like blue? is he more of a yellow guy? or is it pink that’ll catch his eye?
the three of you head to a restaurant that night. it’s a seafood place, the three of you laughing and joking about something you’d seen earlier. they look good. smell good too. they even argue over who’s going to pay for the meal and look at you like you’ve got three heads when you offer to pay.
“it’s fine y/n, you’re a student.” oscar says, smiling as logan gives up. he pays quickly, all cash with no fuss. “we can get it.”
“ubering must make you a lot of money.”
“yeah. something like that.” he smiles again. this time with no teeth as he gets the receipt.
-❀-
logan goes to bed early that night, citing something about his family being desperate to check up on him. it leaves just the two of you outside in the corfu evening air.
“want to go for a walk?” you ask, looking at him earnestly.
“yeah. sure.” he’s trying not to be too eager. not to scare you off. the two of you start walking down the street.
“i always like to go for a slow walk after a big dinner. i feel like it probably helps with digestion.” you speak quietly, as if not to disturb the silence of the street. he likes your voice and is willing to listen at any volume you decide.
“i think it does. i try not to eat too much.” oscar responds, shoving a jittery hand in his pocket. “i can’t gain any weight for my job.”
“yeah, logan said. that’s weird. what kind of uber driver has a weight limit?” he shrugs and smiles. “do you miss australia?”
“sometimes. i’m used to travelling though. i’ve done it for so long.” he looks at you. “what about you? do you miss your home?”
“eh, i wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. i wanted to remake myself. i was gonna do it all y’know? a name change and everything.” you look up at the stars for a moment. “i didn’t go through with it. even if i changed my name, i’d still be y/n really. inside.”
“i get that. i think.” oscar looks at the gorgeous landscape in front of him. he ignores all the people milling around the two of you. to him it’s just you, him and the view. “so, y/n-“
your phone interrupts him. a loud, obnoxious ringing noise. you mouth an apology at him when you look at the caller id.
“sorry, it’s my best friend. she wouldn’t call me if it wasn’t important. she’s more of a texter anyways. do you mind?” you point at your phone. he shakes his head with a smile. you disappear to take your call and he finds a bench to sit on. he leans back, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
what was he thinking? asking you out? thank god the world or fate or god or whoever is in charge, stopped him before he made the biggest mistake of his life. you liked logan and he didn’t blame you. he really, truly didn’t.
when you come back, you ask him what he was going to ask. he shrugs. it wasn’t important anyways, he says. he asks what happened with your friend and listens you chatter all the way back about your friend’s current work drama.
-❀-
the next morning, logan and you head down to breakfast together. it’s a continental breakfast that the hotel offer. it’s good, with a wide spread of toast, pancakes, omelettes, cereal, fruit and sausages. you load up your plate, happy to get food for free even though technically you paid for it.
logan’s plate is smaller. you think about what they said earlier about weight limits and feel a pang of sympathy. i mean, your job was not very well paid but at least it gave you freedom in your spare time to do and eat whatever you want.
“is oscar not coming?” you ask, forking a fluffy piece of omelette and hash browns in your mouth. it’s gorgeous and you’re hungry.
“nah. he’s not feeling too good. i’ll bring him some breakfast in a bit.” logan methodically goes through his breakfast. slow, small bites and chews it for as long as possible. “wanna go for a swim later? it’s hot as hell outside. i feel my skin melting off.”
“you are going a little red.” you tease. he smiles again, shyly. his face does go red when you lean forward and press your cold cup against his cheek. “a little better?”
“it’d be better if you’d go swimming with me.” he smiles.
“of course i will. can’t leave you by yourself. who knows what’ll happen.” he laughs this time. “now wanna try some of this omelette?”
he sits politely as you lean over and feed him a forkful of the spinach and cheese omelette. for a moment, the two of you look into each other's eyes as you feed him. he turns away as soon as it’s okay and chews the bite.
“good?”
“yeah. yeah. it’s good.” he smiles at you. “let me just get some more water for us, be back in a moment.”
“is it getting too hot for you?” you tease.
“a little.” he sheepishly grins again. “let me cool down.”
-❀-
it’s your last day with the two of the guys before they drop you back off at the bus stop to go back to athens. your heart is still pinching at the thought of leaving, but you decide your last day can’t be in vain. they’ll be going home soon so it’ll be the best time to admit what you already knew. what you had known for the whole time.
you’d been on the phone with your best friend who had helped you to write a pros and cons list.
— pros - you could be a girlfriend to a great guy. you would be happy. you would have a rich boyfriend (your bff added that). you could touch them in any way they’d let you. you could sleep together. you could also sleep together (bff again). you would have a great time. you would have fun. would it improve your life? potentially.
— cons - they could say no and you’d have to jump off a cliff. they could be dating each other and you’d be embarrassed that you didn’t figure it out. they could laugh at you. they could be disgusted. they could be nice about it and gently let you down. they’re not even from anywhere close to greece. it’d be a long distance relationship. could you even deal with that?
you shake your head and lift your hand up to his bedroom door. the wood is cold under your knuckles. the world still moves around you, tourists laughing in their rooms and people walking around. their voices murmuring.
as your hand hovered there, you thought for a moment. about how this could change everything. was it too soon? too risky? then you remembered, it’s now or never.
take the plunge and with that, you knock.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by anyaaaa, alexjohnson and 183 others.
yourusername: this summer is going well. made two new friends, spent half of my savings and made some new memories and isn’t that what life is all about?
anyaaaa: when are you coming back? miss u girl!!
-> yourusername: soon! i just need to figure something out first.
-> anyaaaa: you’ll figure it out. you always do. can’t wait till you come back <33
Tumblr media
taglist: @decafmickey @nichmeddar @casperlikej @purplephantomwolf @cuteskz @booksandflowrs @mxdi0 @alexmarie29 @luckyladycreator2 @23victoria @molten-m122 @evie-119 (want to be removed? or wondering why you weren’t tagged? check your tag settings or send me an ask!)
197 notes · View notes
pedge-page · 14 hours
Text
Candles
Part 5 to Best Man Series. follow Christmas Party.
Joel Miller x F!Reader, Tommy Miller x F!Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: It's Tommy's birthday. So why are you still looking for Joel to celebrate it?
notes: Its been 4 months but here's the next part for those of you still waiting on since December! The next part will most likely be the finale.
Warnings: unprotected sex (with Tommy), infidelity / cheating, pregnant reader, toy usage, dildo riding, breeding kink, oral m!receiving (with Joel), m!masturbation, short voyeurism, vaginal fingering, cum eating, jealous!Joel, emotions are FLLYYINNGGG in this one
18+ ONLY
- - - -
Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous. 
He’s at home, drifting off in thought as his hands do poor work on wrapping paper around the new pair of shoes and watch that he picked out. When Sarah, who’s focus is on brushing her doll’s hair and changing her bathing suit, starts yapping about how Uncle Tommy's kid is gonna be her best friend since she doesn't have any siblings to play with right now, all Joel can think about is you and Tommy together right now on his special day. 
What would it be like, waking up to you in a shared bed every day? To be the first to kiss you, smell your morning breath and sift his fingers through your bed head? To see your eyes shine from the sun reflecting off of them, twinkling with the buildup of a tear after a yawn.
What would it be like, getting a birthday blow job from you first thing in the morning? Even if you aren’t his wife, he’s thought about getting to have you all the time, just for him. He doesn’t get jealous of Tommy very often, because Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous, but he tuts at the idea that your mouth wrapped around his cock is a sight he gets to behold more often than Joel ever will. 
What would it be like, to not have to sneak around? To just have you loudly, unashamed, sloppily, proudly, the way you deserve, without constantly checking behind your back? To capture your lips in front of everyone like it were normal, to hold your pregnant belly like it was his, because damnit it might as well be.
It drives him insane he can’t mark you up the way Tommy can, less the two of you be caught in your affair. All he can do is pound you better, ruin you some more, and fill you with his seed. 
As if the last one hadn’t already reared its consequences in your growing belly. You’re too beautiful, too full of something special to be kept to one guy.
Still. He’ll only ever be second to Tommy.
What would it be like … to call you his?
“Dad…Dad!”
“What!”
Joel looks down at Sarah who’s got her hands on her hips and a stern look about her face.
Jesus, she really does spend too much time with me.
“The door,” she repeats, pointing downstairs. On cue, the doorbell chimes again.
He grunts as he lifts himself to his feet, brushing her head messily with his big palm before hopping down to answer.
It’s his dad.
“How old ya gotta be to leave your old man standin’ outside in the cold?”
Joel rolls his eyes, shifting to allow his father through the front. “It’s 79 degrees out.”
“Cold for my old bones,” he groans, feinting a shiver. “Share-Bear!”
Sarah bulldozers straight to his abdomen and wraps her arms in a big hug. 
Joel lightly tugs on one of her curly strands and she yelps “ow!”
“Go upstairs and get changed.”
She barrels upstairs to her room, leaving Joel and Miller senior. 
Joel continues tossing a bunch of tape on to the sad excuse of a gift before crinkling all the paper up and tossing it. He moves to search for a gift bag in the closet instead.
His dad sighs loudly. “Tommy sure got a nice beat goin’ for ‘im.”
“Sure does,” Joel notes, his attention more on the shoving past the vacuum.
“Good house, good job, kid on the way. A pretty gal.”
Joel closes the closet and turns towards his dad. “What’s your point, pops?”
“You know my point. He’s got it all together. You...”
“Me what? You don’t think I ain’t doin good on my own?”
“You shouldn’t have to be on your own. Sarah’s mom wasn’t...we knew she wasn’t gonna stick around. Its tough havin’ a kid to raise by yourself—“
“I wouldn’t trade my babygirl in for anything else in the world,” Joel snaps quickly. His eyes dart upstairs briefly. Its a conversation he hates when his dad brings up, especially when Sarah could just be lurking around the corner.
“Im not sayin’ that but.” Grandpa Miller shakes his head and takes a seat at the island. “Kid needs a mom. You need a woman. Someone to hold and kiss and make promises to. Someone to love.”
Joel drops the now filled bag on the countertop. I have that already. It’s just—complicated. “There a reason you stopped by? Other than to lecture me?”
His father grunts apathetically. “Just came by for some wrapping paper, but by the looks of it—“ He glances at Joel’s empty tape roll and bunched up pile of ribboned paper—“Guess I’ll go down to the store to get some.”
“Well you know where the door is.”
His dad follows Joel to his open front door to show him out. One aging father and one rapidly aging eldest son look at each other with a sense of sadness.
“Joel—“
“I’ll see you at Tommy’s.”
-
If you weren’t so pregnant, waking up before Tommy would have been so much easier to give him a blow job.
Instead. It’s half past 9, and you’re just rousing to consciousness. Fully well knowing Tommy has probably been awake for at least an hour but faking it just so he can wake up with you.
“Good morning birthday boy,” you grumble groggily, a soft smile spreading across your cheeks as you pull him in for a peck.
He grins and wraps himself around you. “Mmm Good Morning, little Momma. Ya know what I want for my birthday?”
You did know. He dropped hints like crazy and you already had it ready to go by your nightstand.
The thing about Tommy is…Tommy likes watching. It’s something you figured out when you were already dating after a year. Something about watching you touch yourself, spreading your legs on the bed and fucking yourself with a dildo, or grinding on his pillow and moaning as he stroked his cock from across the room, has him leaking in his palm with dirty words of encouragement.
And even with a hefty baby in your belly, his view of you bouncing on top of the sizable dildo was no different.
“Fuck, fuck that’s it angel. Takin’ that dick so good. Bet it feels good, huh?” He grips his balls with his palm while the other fists over his dick. Sitting upright in your makeup chair, fully naked and facing the bed, he gets a view of everything. His hungry eyes never once leave your body.
You nod. Your knees hurt, but the sight of Tommy’’s heart shaped eyes watching your milky breasts bounce, your lips spread to accomodate the girth of the silicon cock has you smiling for your deserving husband.
“It’s—not as easy with the bump…” you say fretfully. You feel like shit, not being able to give him the show that he wanted on his birthday. It’s a lot more difficult to angel and thrust a stick into you when there’s a planet blocking your view.
Tommy hoists himself up quickly, jerking his cock as he approaches you. He tosses the dildo and crawls over you before veiny hands caress along your hips, over your belly and squeezing your tits. “S’okay, little Momma. ‘m’here now. Daddy’s gonna make it better.”
You grasp his face with both hands and grin, pulling his lips to yours. At the same time, he slides his leaking member into your folds, forcing a grunt in the back of both of your throats as he bottoms out.
“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me,” he growls, fucking you steadily with deep strokes. “I get my one birthday wish today. Thinking’ I’m gonna leave a little present in this pussy. Have ya walk around all day with a lil bit of me inside.”
You laugh and gently tap your belly. “There’s a bit more than a ‘little’ bit of you inside me already.”
His stomach rumbles with a a chuckle. “That’s for everyone else to know who ya belong to. Nah, I’m talkin something just between you n me.” His arm holds himself above you as he rocks his hips with shallow ruts. “Shit, shit, ya gonna take it f’me? Gonna take my present on my fuckin’ birthday?”
You let out a high pitched whine, neck convulsing backwards as your cunt starts tightening around his length. 
Tommy locks your lips to his, tongue’s messily rolling into one another’s mouth. A string of saliva connect between the two of you when he pulls away, only for him to rub it against your breast.
“Tommy,” you moan desperately. You’re close, you’re about to tell him so: “I—“
“I love you,” he rasps. His eyes are shut tight as he finds that sweet spot inside, sending you over the edge before you can finish your thought.
 He thrusts a few more times before stilling. His balls twitch with satisfaction, each grunt from his chest echoing the spurts of his seed inside you. He feels at peace when he can be this close to you, his hand warm against your tight tummy and his soon-to-be kids.
His soon to be complete family.
His words rattle in your ears. You feel the opposite of light and airy after an orgasm. No, everything is heavy. Your head feels like a boulder stuck to the pillow. Yet empty. Your body so full yet feeling incredibly hollow right now. 
Tommy kisses your lips once more, not noticing the way you don't return the vervor. He sits up, wipes the sweat from his brows and slaps your thigh.
“You okay? Fucked ya a little too hard, baby momma?” He snickers.
You fake a laugh, hoping he’ll see you’re feeling exhausted rather than suspect anything is wrong.
Your husband kisses your forehead with a whisper “Stay in bed, you rest as long as ya need,” before walking towards the bathroom and closing the door behind him.
I love you. It should have made you feel surrounded by him. Comforted, secure, proud, inseparable, sound, cherished, warm, fuzzy, happy, truthful, light. Your husband confessing his love to you. 
Instead, it only reminded you of the dream had about Joel again last night.
Joel in your house. Joel in your bed. Joel dropping Sarah off at school and feeding your newborn with her bottle. Joel cooking in your backyard, Joel’s hands entwined with yours on a walk. Joel rubbing your shoulders and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Joel kissing your cheek and telling you he lo—
You cover your face with the back of your hands. Tommy’s the one in your bed. Tommy holds your hand and kisses your cheek, and will be feeding and burping your baby, will be there for you forever and always because that’s what you promised to each other. 
You hold the ring on your finger up high in the air, its dazzling shimmer glints in your eyes. Your eternal promise, displayed on something so small yet so permanent, wrapped up in such a beautiful band.
The same ring that Best Man Joel carried in his pocket safely for months before you swore yourself to his brother. 
 You curse under your breath.
You’re still going to have to see him today.
-
He watches you crowd over Tommy seated at the head of the table, your hands lovingly on his shoulders. He thinks about his “one wish” for a while, but he only looks sideways towards you, holding your gaze for a moment before he confidently blows his candles. The room erupts in a rumble of cheers and clapping, but Tommy and you are only smiling at one another. He grabs your face and kisses you, smearing some icing on your nose. You laugh with him and rub it along his own, the two of you giddy and in your own world.
Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.
And when you slice into the cake, nobody really understand why the cake is split between a blue and pink center. Everyones thinking the same thing--we already did the baby shower, it was going to be a girl!
“We might...have found out…there's gonna be another one,” you say sheepishly, your hands rollings over the heft of your larger than life belly that surprisingly has two little bubbas growing inside. 
Twins. you're having fucking twins. 
Tommy grasps your face and smears more icing on you, the two of you locking lips again and getting a little too pg-13 in a room full of raucous screeches that feel like nails on a chalkboard, shuffling chairs like a thunderous stampede. Everyone rushes to congratulate the two of you, how your lives are really starting, how exciting it must all be, what names you’ve been thinking of, its its everything you’d hoped it would be.
Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.
Tommy knew, of course he did. Both of you planned it, to announce it like that. He’s got that smug look on his face, nothing of surprise. Just absolutely elated to share news that had been sitting on the two of you for who knows how long. Something Joel used to always get firsthand word from. You’re having twins. And he’s learning about it for the first time, same as everyone else. Tommy’s friends pat him on the back. Aunts kiss his cheek and even his dad smiles towards his youngest son’s success, all while the whole time, his ringed hand hasn’t left the curve of your swollen womb.
Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.
He slips out the back of the room, everyone too engrossed in surrounding the happy couple. Nobody cared for Joel’s presence, not since the minute Tommy was born. Nobody would bat an eye for his absence today too.
You’re excited, you want to celebrate, and having everyone touching and surrounding you and asking questions wasn’t the way you wanted it. That’s why it was supposed to be during Tommy’s birthday, so there was something else to focus on.
But your body is on edge. It was attention from all that thrill. Jittery and warm under your palms.
Between your legs.
It’s hard to force Joel out of your mind whenever he’s in the same room. So when he dips out of the kitchen without making any gesture towards you, you didn’t hesitate to excuse yourself for a bathroom break. Nobody questions it, continuing their swarm around Tommy now who’s too eager for all the attention to really notice.
You don’t know what you expect from Joel. You don’t even know why you’re seeking him right now, and not standing by your husband’s side. You love Tommy. He’s everything to you. 
So why is there still this half of you that feels… like you need more?
Maybe your body is thinking on her own accord now, and that’s been a problem that needs to end. No. No you just wanted to talk. That’s all. He's your brother-in-law, for fucks sake. it’s natural you want to hear his thoughts. He’s gonna be a double uncle! He deserves a congratulations! Hope he’ll tell you congratulations too. Acknowledge it in some way. That its happening. That you and Tommy—are just you and Tommy. 
You wonder where the older Miller may have gone in such a small house. Sarah was still in the room, sneaking cake since nobody else seemed to care to slice it up, so where on earth—?
A callused palm wrap around your mouth and pulls you backwards into the dark bathroom, the door closing you inside with him warm and pressed tightly against your back.
“Shhhhhhhhh,” he whispers. The warmth of his breath makes you shiver, all the way down to the dampness spreading along your panties. Fuck. What was it about just ‘talking’ to him again? 
“J-Joel,” your voice wavers cautiously. “I—“ 
“You still gonna keep pretending you don’t want me?”
You face him as he turns the lights on and the two of you are caught in one another’s grasps. There’s a moment where you size him up, and he wonders if you’ll bluff his pass.
Instead, Like magnets that can’t resist their attractions, your instincts overwhelm you. Your eager fingers dig into the back of his neck and smash his lips against yours. The traces of icing still linger on your lips and tongue, the two of you devouring one another, fighting to get the last lick before coming apart to breathe.
Joel just smirks, his tongue swiping over his puffy lower lip. “Sweet,” he hums. His thumb brushes the bit of icing you didn’t know was still on your nose and puts it in his mouth. “How somethin’ so sweet come from someone so naughty?”
You quickly drop to a squat and roughly shove his hips back against the sink. Nimble fingers working swiftly to unbuckle his jeans and shove them down to his thighs.
You’re both panting through swollen lips, heart rate moving a lot quicker than the activities you’ve so far done would permit. He’s gorgeous like this—illuminated by the harsh florescent light above, his sincere, albeit sinful, smile and rosy cheeks watching you kiss his hardened length. 
He doesn’t force you. Doesn’t do anything to make you feel concerned. In fact, you’ve cornered him against the vanity, forcing yourself between his bent knees and inserting his tip to your wet mouth.
“Beautiful,” he whispers softly. His thumb strokes over your cheek as you guide more of his leaking cock into your mouth until it hits the back of your throat. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you, not even to blink. 
Your head bobs eagerly, swallowing around him. There’s just something about that huge dick of his that has you going feral. An itch you can’t scratch until his cum is either nested safely in your stomach or your womb. Maybe it’s because you’ll never be able to get rid of him. He’ll be around forever, and that means you can keep seeing him and his beefy horse cock forever. Forbidden yet yours for the taking. Every day if you wanted. 
The sounds of the party outside feel so remote compared to the events happening in such a little room right now. Just between you and Joel. 
The babies ain’t quite here yet so just you and Joel.
“Pretty pretty angel, sucking’ Daddy’s cock like that. What would your husband think? Suckin’ his big brother off in your house? I’d tell ‘im you got to your knees all by yourself. Little slut couldn’t wait for it. Second she saw me, needed my fat cock stretchin’ her throat, ain’t that right? Needed me to give ya something today too? Just that selfish, aren’t ya?”
You pull off his cock with a big gasp, smiling lazily. He slaps his cock against your open tongue with thick and wet patpatpats. 
He tsks you. “Pregnant gal, on her knees, takin’ cock like a slut. What a woman you are, little momma.”
You hum in approval, the drunken desire for Joel to fill your every senes clogging your brain.
Soft lips enclose around his tip again and he thrusts forward this time, holding his cock deep. You try to remember to breathe through your nose, even with his hairs tickling your lashes, but Joel pulls back enough to just his tip, and sets a gentle rhythm back and forth.
Joel’s head falls back against the mirror. His eyelids feel heavy each time he looks down to you. So full and rounded by a child—two children…if they're his, Joel’s having another daughter and his first son.
“Told ya you were made from breedin’. You’re gonna be like this the rest of ya life. Gonna put another baby in ya, then another—” he chuckles to himself, “N’another—havin’ ya suck cock not remember what number baby ya got growing’ in ya belly.”
He hisses through his teeth as you suck his member in and out, picking up pace. Your tongue works over his tip with each swipe, hand jerking off the base of his dick that you can’t fit. Any saliva and precum is immediately suckled and swallowed, leaving no evidence at the scene.
You’d gotten pretty good at that.
Joel’s beefy paw grasps the porcelain edge behind him as he hisses through his teeth. His stomach tenses, the veins in his v’line straining and you know he’s close. 
You alternate between sucking his balls and jacking off his cock above you. “What if I busted all over that pretty face? Have ya walk around your house with my cum on those lashes as everyone told ya what a cock hungry whore you are.”
You moan around him, your pussy so slicked between your thighs that it’s dripping down your pants. Its wrong. Fuck, you’re so wrong to want it. Want Tommy to see who’s marking you up, see how much you’d spread your pussy for Miller cock no matter if its your husbands his brothers.
His cock finds its way to your mouth again, and he starts thrusting lightly. 
“Swallow it, swallow it all. Want ya hesitatin’ to kiss Tommy after this. Knowin’ ya got my spunk in your mouth still. Fuck me babydoll, mouth’s a dream.”
His jaw drops low as he cums, and god what a sight. Your cunt throbs as he lets out pained breaths into the air, ready to cum if you were able to touch yourself right now.
You gulp down his salty load, lips suctioned to his tip and milking him clean to avoid any messes that might linger.
“That’s a good slutty wife,” he whispers down to you. Even on your knees, the heft of your pregnant belly is doing wonders to him. 
You lazily grin up to his smug grin. He knows you like showing him just how good you are at swallowing loads, like a good wife always does.
He pulls his softened cock out of your mouth, and you gasp a big breath of air, your hands still clinging to his thighs.
You feel his protective hands hoist you up to your feet. 
“Anything hurt?” He asks gently, holding your body flush against him as he rubs your tummy and hips. He feels much less tense than just moments ago when he pulled you in the bathroom with him. 
You shake your head. It’s not the first time you’ve gone down on a man while 30 pounds heavier with a baby. Your knees are a bit sore, but it’s nothing compared to the ache you’ve been feeling in your back for months now.
You try to pull away from Joel, but his arm is wrapped tightly around you. 
“Didn’t think you were pullin’ me in here just to suck me off. Why are you actin’ like this little snatch is happy from that?”
“I didn’t pull you—you pulled me,” you correct.
“You came lookin’ f’me. And you got on your knees all by yourself.”
His hands caress lower down your hip, gliding along your leggings towards your crotch. It should be wrong, the way your hand closes around his wrist to guide him closer, his digits dipping below the waistline and down your panties. 
He feels it: the soft squelch of your slick in your ruined underwear, pulsing madly. He grins and lets out a satisfied yet devious ‘ooooh there we go’ against your cheek. 
But there’s more. More dripping from here than he’s given you just from the thrill of sucking his cock.
He pushes his middle finger past your entrance and fingers out the glob of cum that had been deposited inside you earlier today.
“It’s —it’s Tommy’s birthday,” you moan, as if he needed an explanation as to why your husband’s seed is dripping out of your pussy. “Had—to give him—ooohhhhuugggg—his…gift—“
He continues to finger fuck you slowly, his younger brother’s cum practically pooling in your underwear. “Got one man’s cum in your mouth and a different one’s in ya pussy." He shakes his head. when he gets you like this, sometimes he would forget that you’re Tommy’s wife, after all. That Tommy gets you more than him. Gets to fill you whenever he pleases. Gets to hear your moans as loudly as he wants. That Tommy’s right to your pussy is his first and foremost, sacredly, forever and always.
That doesn’t stop Joel from seething at the thought of having to finger his brothers spent out of you.
"What, he didn’t make ya cum?” He taunts, picking up the pace. Even as you wreathe under his touch, your nails clench into his bicep, feeling the muscle work with each flick of his knuckle. “S’why you’re so desperate today? Wifey didn’t get her selfish little cunt pleased from your husband on his birthday?”
 "I did come …” you protest weakly. You squeeze your eyes shut, head tilted down as he works you open. It’s sloppy and sticky in your leggings, soaking the underside with your slick and Tommy’s cum being forced out by Joel’s big fingers relentlessly hitting the gummy spot inside.
His other hand grips your chin and forces you to look at him:
 “Then why you comin’ to me?”
There’s a prickle of a tear filling your eyes. You've been asking yourself the same thing for months. You don’t know from what; the brink of pleasure or guilt, but there’s a hefty stone that’s burrowed in your chest all day that you didn’t know needed to escape. The words are forced out of your chest with a pained gasp. 
"... I just want... more.”  
It should pain you to admit it, to be so selfish for these men, never feeling one is enough for you.
Normally He would kiss you right now, to hush your mind to reveal something so heavy, but instead, he holds your gaze, gritting his teeth with a snarl just barely poking along his lip. He wants to let your words sink into your bones, really grasp what you've been denying for too long. Suffer with it, even.
You hadn’t even realized he backed you up against the door, pressing his knee between your leg. You’ve become trapped and hadn’t even noticed. His fingers prod your entrance incessantly, reaching deep inside so there’s no way of you to wiggle out of his grasp. curling up and beating your g-spot better than Tommy can—at this point, its very possible you’ve had more sex with Joel than with your own husband.
And that makes the coil in your pussy snap.
Joel belittles you without any words while you fall apart against the wooden door holding you up. Working the heft of his palm against your clit until your brows are furrowing, mouth agape, walls clamping down tight around him as you cum. The door rattles with each little roll of your hips, and your moans aren’t hushed either. 
He watches, the way your eyes are glued to him, blown wide in guilt and in pleasure while little whines escape your lips. Unrelenting and stoic as he works you through your orgasm, granting no mercy nor even trying to shush your little cries from over stimulation. You don’t hesitate when he brings his fingers to your lips, swallowing them whole and sucking Tommy and your slick off Joel’s fingers. He wipes the rest off on your shirt.
Every emotion you feel with Tommy, you feel with Joel in moments like these. He holds you close to him as you breathe in his musky, minty scent. His shirt smells a bit like flowered softener and a hint of early morning sweat. Fumigated with the thick aroma of sex.
You're looking at the ring on your knuckle.
“I helped pick it out. Carried it for months. ’S practically my ring to you too.” He’s babbling now, getting lost in that hazy after-orgasm glow between two people who are connected by a strong, strange bond. “Sometimes …sometimes I think about stealing you away all to myself.”
He makes you two look in the mirror together, with him cradling your belly as you hold your ring hand to your chest. “Look,” he commands softly against your ear. “Kinda looks like our own little family.”
You hate that you kind of liked that idea. But then Tommy is in your mind, the man that you actually love, who fought for you, who you tied your vows to, and as far as you’re concerned, the father of your children. 
Angry, you try to break away and shove Joel, but he's used to it. Used to you closing him off right after these moments of pure insanity. He's not letting it happen today. This time he’s got a firm grip on you like a brick wall and steel wire melding you tight to him. He knows you don’t actually want to push him away. 
"You said you wanted more.”
It’s not a question: it’s a statement. A fact.
The very real thought, the one you tried to push away every time this happens, dawns on you: Joel is tired of sneaking around. Wants to have you when he wants. When everyone is watching. 
Not just sex. To be in your bed, making you dinner and watching movies, dropping Sarah off to school rubbing your back when you’re in pain, there for the babies when you deliver and every day after. 
You manage to push him off of you and shake your head. The chatter outside grows louder than the beats of your heart. Hoisting your pants back up into place, you go to grab the bathroom door, but Joels strong grip lays over top your and forces the door shut.
There’s a deadly, threatening finality to his tone. “I’m telling him.”
You turn back with a shocked expression, partially expecting him to be joking about it. Not that it’s funny. It’s not funny at all. 
But Joel hasn’t moved. Hasn’t cracked a smile. A man whose resolve has overcome his patience. His lips are tight, jaw tense as he watches you try to answer to that horrifying outcome. 
“Joel. No. Are you insane?”
“If its my kids you’re having, I have every right to be there for you—“
“But it’s NOT!”
“You know that? Tell me right know, you know it for sure. Say it ain’t mine, and I’ll never bring it up again.”
You go quiet, looking down at the belly that’s carrying your babies. You want to shrink away from your fears, from the men who’ve caught you between them with their words and their love and their touch. You’re Tommy’s wife. Yet here you are with Joel. Again. In your and Tommy’s house. And Joel’s hand on you, and on your finger is Tommy’s ring—Joel’s ring--TOMMY—
 It’s too much. Everything is closing around you, your lungs suffocating themselves under the pressure that you caused by seeking him out. Finding him and putting yourself in this exact situation ever. Single. Time. 
You yank the door again, desperate to escape, but Joel doesn’t budge. He refuses to let you walk away from the conversation. From him.
“You didn’t deny it,” he reminds you. he pulls your reluctant focus to him again. “Just say it: Tell me you want me. Tell me you lo—”
“I don’t.” You declare rigidly. Its too far. No, no, no,nonoNO. You expel those thoughts, his words, quick to cast them out before letting them enter your system. The next words rush out of your mouth with a deep ache seized in the pit of your stomach: “You’re just a good fuck.”
The air is thin around you. Something has dropped, a pin, a dime, a fucking boulder, between the two of you. Joel grits his teeth and removes his hand from the door, backing away from you with a scowl. He pulls it the knob open harshly and brushes past you quickly, not even taking a moment to check if anyone was nearby to see you emerging from the bathroom too.
He grabs his jacket and strides towards the living room. You can make out the commotion behind the wall; Sarah is having her own philosophy course to her personal audience, asking, "Whats the point of having so many candles if you can only make one wish!?"
Joel grabs her hand and dismisses them quickly. Her sad cries echo into the hall: “But why! It’s too early!”
Joel’s stern voice echoes in the hall as they make their way across the entryway.  “Because I said so. I’ve got work tomorrow. We’re leaving.”
She continues to complain, but Joel doesn’t have any heart to continue their conversation. Ushering her out of the house and slamming the front door behind them.
You stare at the door, having not moved from your place. 
The carpet beneath your socked-feet feels too shaggy. I hated this carpet. Its too fucking much for fucking Texas and every god damn person who sees it here.
You flinch when Tommy’s hand creeps along your belly. Disgusting your sniffle as a cough and wiping your nose. You worry he noticed, but he doesn’t do anything to push the matter further. “What’s up with him?”
You huff an annoyed sigh. “I don’t fucking know. He’s your brother. Just Leave me the fuck alone.”
Tommy observes  your face momentarily, the way you avoid his eyes. He pulls away. “I’m gonna let this one slide as a pregnancy hormonal thing,” he says lowly, a cold soberness to his tone. “Then you can tell me what’s botherin’ ya so much lately. Or not. I’ll let you decide.”
You cover your face with your hands, sinful hands that feel like dry leather and charred ashes. Hands that don’t feel like your own anymore.
It would be better if Tommy just walked away. So you can simmer in your guilt and pain, like any cheating wife would. Like a sensible man who doesn’t take that shit from his wife, no matter what her personal problems are. From a woman who’s secretly jeopardizing their marriage for… what exactly?
You wanted more…but…what did you want more of?
Instead, Tommy feels his lips quiver slightly. He brings your head to his chest, smothering you in his scent and his embrace, his love and comfort.
Your insides break down in a flood. Tears and hiccups suffocate you as you wrap your arms around your husband and sob into his denim jacket, the one you just gave him this morning as his first birthday gift from his new wife. 
Tommy’s never pushed you for anything. Maybe to his own detriment.
Deep down, you suspect, he knows it too.
Instead, he just holds you, swaying back and forth with gentle ‘shhh’ into your forehead. Never once faltering on the stretch of his hug, his arms holding you up and against him like a seatbelt built for a lifetime.
You feel like you just drove the car off a cliff.
Series Taglist: @yawnetu @tearfallpixie @morgaussy @whirlwindrider29 @merci-killing @604to647 @robertpattins0nswh0re
- - - -
Finale poll: Who are you Rooting for?
Permanent Taglist:
@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop
122 notes · View notes
radioisodoped · 1 day
Text
The sun had just barely come up when you started packing up your things, a couple rays of light streaming into the room and warming your back as you stuff whatever you can manage into your bag. The next settlement is a two-day hike away, but you’ve got plenty of supplies. You’ll manage. Once the spoils of yesterday’s scavenge are safely put away, you make your way to the stairs. The wooden steps creak as you make your way down, idly considering which road out of town would be best.
Stepping down onto the landing, you see his boots first. One leg casually crossed over the other on the dust-covered table. He’s already got his hand cannon pointed right at you, gloved finger steady on the trigger.
“Come chat, sugar. I didn’t come all this way for nothin’.” he drawls, smoke billowing out from under his tipped hat. A bloom of anger grows in your stomach when you see he’s gone through at least half the pack of cigarettes you had stashed away. Half your whiskey too, you knew you were missing something. Bastard. All of that was worth at least a small handful of caps.
You glance to the front door, your barricade still in place. A low whistle interrupts your thoughts.
“Where’s your hospitality? C’mon now, come and say hello.”
He punctuates it by motioning to the table with his gun. Bastard. You walk over, dropping your bag at his feet. Casual house calls aren’t something you associate with him. Before you can ask what he needs, he interrupts you. “Sit down, sweetheart. You’re makin’ me nervous.”
You doubt it. His hand couldn’t be steadier as you pull out a chair for yourself.
You get halfway through asking what he’s doing here before he interrupts again. “I’m still waitin’ on a ‘hello, how are ya’. Where are your manners?”
The games are getting old. You ignore his question and level your best unimpressed look at him.
“Are you here to kill me?”
He huffs out a laugh but doesn’t offer a response. You try not to let it phase you, reaching across his legs to grab the bottle of whiskey before you speak again. “If you are, I’d appreciate a heads up. Maybe even some last words, if you’re feeling particularly generous.”
He laughs again, shaking his head. “You and me both know I ain’t the generous sort. Though, that has nothin’ to do with whether you’ll die today.”
You take a swig from the bottle, watching out of the corner of your eye as he sets his gun down on the table. You’d never let him know it, but you’re a little relieved.
Another swig for courage and his gun out of hand, you feel yourself loosening up. The pretty little .44 holstered on your thigh could take the leg off a brahmin. You flirt with the notion of wrapping your hand around it and shooting him right through the ribs. Oh, you’d die. That’s an absolute certainty. He'd have bits of your head sprayed all over the room before you could get a second shot in. It’d almost be worth it to fuck up his day, though.
You watch him take a drag off of one of your cigarettes and a different thought forces its way to the front. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve earned your way out of a sticky situation
It won't be the last, either. You'll make sure of it. With death still on the table, you loosen your grip on the bottle and let it hang loosely from your fingers so the rim is just barely brushing over your bottom lip.
He tips his Stetson up and you can finally see his eyes, watch the slow drag of his gaze from your fingers to your mouth. You part your lips just enough that the tip of your tongue can pick up a drop of booze that's settled in the mouth of the bottle.
He smiles, half amused. You'll take it. With a small shake of his head, he speaks again. "I'm not here to kill ya, sweetheart, but I am here on business."
"Color me shocked." you mumble, "And here I thought you just missed my pretty face."
"Why can't it be both?"
You make a noise halfway between a scoff and a laugh, setting down the bottle. "Careful, Casanova. Keep that up and I might start thinking you like me."
Burnt lips split into a sleazy grin, cigarette hanging loosely between his teeth. He leans back in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight. "'Course I like you. Don't you remember when we first met?"
Your face heats. That memory had kept you warm on plenty of lonely nights. You'd guess with the way he's looking at you, he's just as fond of it. A little teasing wouldn't hurt, and you're not in the mood to inflate his ego any more than it already is.
"Which time was that?" you ask, leaning back and pulling your eyebrows together to mock a thoughtful look. "The one where you left me on my knees without returning the favor, or the second time you left without getting me off?"
His smile doesn't drop, but you see a muscle in his burned cheek twitch. You hit a nerve. Good. You haven't forgotten how he neglected all of yours.
"Last time wasn't my fault. You knew better than to get handsy somewhere we might get caught." he drawls, most of the humor gone from his tone. He had a point- that was a mess. And mostly your fault. You still had the scar to remember it. He tilts his head, continuing on. "That first time, though? I didn't owe you shit. Besides, with the way you're still running your mouth... Well, clearly I didn't use it hard enough for you to learn anything. Seems to me you got the better deal out of that bargain."
Not one to be outdone, you stand. His eyes follow your every move, watching as you walk over. He barely has time to drop his boots back onto the ground before you straddle his lap, his spurs clinking as he settles. He's already hard when you grind down against him, steadying yourself by gripping his jacket. He does nothing to help, just leans back and reaches for your leg. You arch your back, welcoming the touch, but he just unbuckles your thigh holster, throwing your .44 on the table beside his own gun.
You roll your eyes, rocking your hips again. "Paranoid old man. If I was going to shoot you, I'd have done it while you were eyefucking me."
He laughs, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and stubbing it out on the table while he responds. "You should've. Would've made me want you even more."
"Do you get this hard for everyone you're going to kill?"
He spreads his thighs beneath you, his hands landing on your hips to keep you flush with his bulge as he readjusts. "'Course not, darling. Just brats like you.”
You’ve never wanted someone inside you more in your life. You ache with it. You reach down to fight with his belt buckle and he snickers. “Slow down and enjoy it, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re the kind of person who’d complain if you were bein’ hung with a gold rope.”
“Yeah, well, at least I know the rope can get the job done.”
You don’t have time to bask in the jab before you're sliding off his lap, surprised to find him suddenly standing. His hand wraps around your throat before he wrestles you down onto the rickety table. The whole thing shakes under your back, threatening to break under the strain of your struggle.
“You got a big fuckin’ mouth on you.” He sneers, leaning down close and narrowing his eyes. “I oughta not let you get off again just to prove a point.”
“All that would do is prove me right. You aren’t good for shit outside of killing-“
The slap shocks you. You’re suddenly looking at the wall, the taste of blood coating your tongue. A beat. Then another. You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him close until his cock is pressed right up against where you need him. He laughs under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “You crazy, insatiable bitch.”
He pulls his hand back, unbuckling his belt with a practiced motion that stokes the fire in your stomach. He slips his cock out unceremoniously, glove dragging over ridged skin. “You better be ready, sweetheart. I ain’t wastin’ any more time gettin’ you worked up. I told you I didn’t come for fun.”
Clothes are ripped and forced out of the way, his cock head pressing against your hole. He finally pushes in and you bite your lip, throwing your head back to stare at the stained ceiling as you moan out. “Yeah, but you’ll come for me, right?”
He hums, grabbing at your hips to pull you the rest of the way down his cock. “I always do.”
You choke on a moan, nails digging into the wood beneath you when he bottoms out. The whole table rocks as he thrusts into you, slow at first but gaining momentum quickly. This house was one of the safer places to be, but he wouldn’t afford you the luxury of a gentle fuck.
You know he could, if he wanted to. The grip on your hips isn’t painful, despite the punishing pace he’s set. There's something soft, reverent, in the way his hands drift over your clothes. Not like the way he touched you every other time you've had the privilege of his hands on you.
You're starting to think he really does like you.
The revelation unsettles you a bit. Not in a bad way, necessarily. You just didn't think he was capable of it. You watch the muscles in his neck tense as he holds back noises. You've bitten your lip raw for the same reason.
It's been a while for you. You'd had people since him, sure... but it wasn't the same. Never as satisfying as this. Maybe it's wishful thinking, but you think he might agree. He grunts and leans on one arm beside your head, chasing his own release. You want to make some smart quip, reminding him to slow down and enjoy it, sweetheart, but you think better of it. Your jaw still aches from the slap.
It's not long before he's unloading inside you with a groan, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips twitch against you. An unnatural heat reminds you to look for some radaway once he's gone, but you're distracted by his hand slipping between your bodies. Embarrassingly, it doesn't take much. Rusty or not, he knows how to use his fingers. The fabric of his glove drags along just right and you keen, back arching as you come around his cock.
He lets you ride the high, only pulling away when you go limp and start to pant. He pulls out, leaving you looking like a mess as he readjusts himself. He could still kill you. He might, honestly. You couldn't give less of a fuck if you tried. He holsters his gun as your eyes shut, enjoying the afterglow. Of course, he doesn't let you rest long.
“That was an awful nice treat, but we got things to do. Up and at ‘em, darlin'." He slaps the side of your thigh with a smile, jolting you out of your reverie. "We’re goin’ on a field trip.”
76 notes · View notes
ceruleancattail · 21 hours
Note
I see your requests are open and I haven’t made one in a long time. Feel free to not write about this because I am a sucker for only one or two aus🥹I’m just boring like that. I feel like I’m a regular at a cafe that asks for the same thing- I’m so sorry😭🙏
Firstly, HOW ARE YOU and take your time with these requests💖🫶 may I ask for a Nightfall Leona and Floyd? Maybe diving deep into their relationship with the reader? Or how about reader catching them in the act (of their evil deeds perhaps👀) how would Leona and Floyd react?
Nah you’re good! It’s like having a familiar face drop by and I already have the order ready to go. It’s a comforting thing, like a set routine? Please don’t feel so bad about it! I really took my time with this oops-
Nightfall Au
General Headcanons for Leona and Floyd
Leona x reader, Floyd x reader
Tw: death, gore, kinda yandere because it’s a Ceru fic, of course it is-
Leona Kingscholar
The boss of Savanaclaw.
He’s very practical in the way he runs the gang. Moving men around with a hooked finger, shifting them like pieces on the chessboard. Unfortunately, he does value each and every one of them, which makes him such an interesting person to work with.
He’ll never admit it though. Always muttering about doing things with the least amount of effort needed in his part… although his operations always seem to have the least causalities as well.
Leona knows the names of every single person who’s in Savanaclaw. He’s memorised them, actually. However, if you ever mention it, Leona’s face takes on a more sober shade.
“Ain’t nothin’ much. At least I’ll know what to put on their tombstone.”
How did he discover the Lantern?
Leona has made a habit of wandering about at night. There aren’t too many people out and about then, and those who are, were normally too drunk to care about him. For a while, Leona’s just another person on the street. It suits him just fine, really. He’ll pick a lonely corner shrouded in shadow, watching people stagger by silently. Quietly observing, taking note of each person’s pace, the way they carried themselves.
As tiresome as people were, reading them like a book was something that came naturally to Leona. Although like with every skill, it has to be practised and honed, lest the blade of talent turns dull.
Sometimes, he gets a little peckish. Walking about in the dark does that to a person. By chance, he walks by the Lantern. A 24 hour cafe, lights still twinkling from within glass doors. He pauses in front, watching the person manning the counter. How hardworking, they seemed to be. A little anxious as well, rearranging pastries over and over again. It was a rather adorable sight.
You’d piqued his interest, rather you like it or not.
Relationship with Him
It feels like he exists just to frustrate you, sometimes. Leona takes forever with his orders, dragging a crooked finger across the menu. He often has the most ridiculously convoluted orders ever, with a seemingly endless list of requirements. He likes watching your lips curl in frustration, as you mutter his order quietly under your breath.
How you’re so clearly annoyed with him, but you’re still rushing around the kitchen all the same, determined to fulfil whatever he says. It’s almost as you take it as a personal challenge.
Leona likes to watch you bustle around, pouring out your very heart into the meal. There’s a passion burning behind those eyes as you busy yourself with his order. There’s little he misses, especially if it’s about you. Your little habits in the kitchen, the way you hold your utensils… Leona sees and remembers it all.
He also doesn’t miss the gleam in your eyes and you place his order before him, beaming at a job well done. That pride you take in your work is rather respectable. Your smile then is also pretty cute, honestly.
As much Leona likes to tease, you hardly feel any malice from his actions. It’s almost as if you’re being batted around softly by a cat’s paws, a treasured possession. Something to amuse him, for a while. Yet there was a warmth behind his expression, whenever you met his gaze. An almost tender look.
Ever since Leona started frequenting your cafe, tools haven’t seem to be breaking down as often. Heck, you don’t even remember having this much silverware. It’s almost as if they multiply by themselves every week… how strange.
Probably nothing much… right?
If He’s caught in Red-Handed
Leona doesn’t take drastic measures to appear like a normal citizen. Lying to you would be too much of a bother, so what he does is to mislead you. If you question about his occupation, Leona just says he runs an organisation. He’ll not elaborate much, only keeping things to short sentences and grunts, neither confirming nor denying any of your questions.
Although if he’s finally caught in the act, it would probably in the name of protecting you or the cafe. Calmly shooting someone who dared to attempt a robbery in the Lantern point blank, without even so much as a change in expression. Leona would simply call up some of his men to clean up the mess.
Don’t worry, no crime will be linked back to you, so don’t worry your lil’ head, herbivore.
If you’re shocked, he’s just going to laugh at the way your eyes widen. Did he ever tell you what he did? No? So why are you surprised by this? Whatever expectations you have in your head, dash them.
He’s a murderer, and that’s what he’ll stay as.
Chuckling coldly, he’ll simply tuck his payment under his cup, before walking off into the night. Having people target the cafe means that you’ll be in danger. So Leona will simply take his leave. Let those ruffians chase him instead.
He’ll still keep tabs on you, watching from building rooftops, from within parked cars. Leona’s still staring wistfully into the kitchen you roam within. Even after all his big talk, he’s the one who can’t leave you.
Although if you were the one who was attacked, you’ll get to see the brutality of Leona Kingscholar. A shot to the head was too merciful for scum like them. Leona’s arm snakes around your waist, yanking you closer to him. While he fires round after round into the attacker’s thighs, rendering them immobile. What happens next? Leona wouldn’t let you see.
He’ll yank you into his coat, shielding your eyes from whatever gruesome scene awaits before you. A part of him feels a pang of pain at the way you shiver and tremble within his grasp. You’ve been led to believe the great big cat who frequented your store was docile. Now, you’ve seen his fangs.
For once, you’re afraid of the lion.
You won’t have any say, if this happens. Leona’s dragging you into a car and taking you… somewhere. Somewhere “safe”. Everything you need from your house? He’s sending men over right now to grab everything they can. You were almost murdered on Leona’s watch. You can bet he’s worried to death about your safety now.
You’re just some herbivore, after all. If he wasn’t there… no. He was there. And he’ll always be, from now on.
You’ll never leave his side ever again.
Floyd Leech
The famed loose canon of Octavinelle, Floyd Leech. Dual wielding a pair of destructive guns, he’s famed for the absolute blood baths he leaves behind. He’s who Octavinelle sends whenever they want to make a statement. Whether it’s to threaten rival gangs to return what they’re owe, or to destroy them entirely, Floyd’s the guy for the job.
The only problem is that he’s a little too unpredictable for fine operations. If you make him wait too long, he’s stepping on the gas and leaving you far, far behind in the dust. Not the best trait you’ll want in a getaway driver.
As crazed as people make him out to be, Floyd can be reasoned with. He actively ensures that whatever deals he deals are “fair” in the loosest sense. Both parties have to gain something, in order for it to be called a deal, after all.
If something’s a waste of time, Floyd would tell you that straight up. Was it him being kind, or could he just not be bothered to lie? Nobody really knows.
How did he discover the Lantern?
He was probably hungry. For those who lurk within the shadows, the night is the best time to work. After all, it’s called the “dead of night” for a reason. It’s already dead, so what’s the difference of adding more deaths to that phrase?
The problem is that not a lot of stores are open at these ungodly hours, and Floyd’s pretty sick of eating instant meals. Sure, they’re tasty, but if you eat enough of them, they just feel… dry. Empty, in an odd sort of way. Also, if he eats too much, he’ll feel sick, so no thanks.
So he’ll drag himself from street to street, searching for something to satisfy his grumbling stomach. Until he spots a light in the distance, and the heavenly scent of freshly baked bread waft into his nostrils. His gaze flickers up to a signboard before him.
The Lantern, huh? The worker’s kinda’ cute. Scampering here and there like a lil’ shrimp caught up in the currents. Hey, maybe he’ll call them shrimpy.
Guess he could give this place a try. Anything’s better than eating out of a plastic box again.
Relationship with Him
Floyd pesters you all the time. Leaning over the counter, fiddling with the bell until you come out. Even then, you have to physically pry the bell out of his hands for him to stop ringing it. He’s stubborn, though.
So both of you end up in a wrestle for the bell, fingers slipping and pulling away. Floyd plays dirty, though. He’ll hold it high above your head so you’ll have to jump and try to reach it. He’s laughing all the while. Yet there’s a weakness in that tactic you exploit daily.
His sides. You’ll jab and tickle him until Floyd’s laughing hysterically, and the bell will drop. These little tussles add some colour to your day, at the very least. After a shift of standing idle, a playful fight helps to get some blood pumping. As much as you grumble about it, you have to admit that it’s fun.
Floyd always seems to pop in at odd hours, so most of the time it’s just you and him. While you’re whipping up his massive order (how can one guy eat that much?), Floyd’s doing some redecorating. Pushing all the tables together to form one big table, arranging the chairs so there’s two of them, facing each other.
Sometimes, if you’re shorter than him, he stacks up the chairs as a personal jibe at you. If you’re taller than him, now he’ll stack up his own chairs, so he towers above you.
Floyd always shares half of what he orders with you. Even if you refuse, he’s grabbing you by the wrist and forcing a spoonful of desert into your mouth. How is it? Isn’t it so good? Y’know, Floyd does really like the cooking here. He does appreciate the effort you put into each and every single thing you serve, so what better way to thank you than to encourage force you into taking a break?
Besides, there isn’t anyone else in the store now. Just you and him. Aw, you went all red when he said that. Hopeless romantic, huh?
That’s cute, shrimpy.
If He’s caught Red-Handed
Floyd’s another guy who would simply not care. Ask him no questions, and he’ll tell no lies. He effectively hushes your endless inquires with howling laughter, before his voice drops:
“Do you really want to know?”
He’s not against telling you what he does for a living, but Floyd wouldn’t want to scare you away… too soon, at least. Although, he drops a few hints here and there sometimes, just to see that flicker of panic flitter over your expression. Allowing you to catch a small glimpse of his holsters, rolling up his sleeves to reveal arms filled with tattoos swirling around his arms.
Sometimes, he’ll come to the Lantern all battered up. Nothing too drastic, only a few cuts and scrapes all over his skin. He’ll throw his arms over your shoulders, whining about how much it stings, how much it hurts until you cave in and give him some attention.
Floyd loves it when you tend to his wounds. Every touch gentle, pressing softly into his tender skin. Even your chiding sounds melodious to his ears. Man, you’re really worried about him, aren’t you?
He’s silent during those times, content with watching your hands wash and dress his wounds. Your fingertips brush against his hands sometimes, a warm caress. It’s gone all too soon, warmth vanishing into the air. Floyd’s left craving for more, long after your hands leave his skin.
Your warmth, your touch, your love… Floyd just wants it all. But he’s not rash. He’ll wait patiently for you, until the lil’ shrimp wanders into his clutches themselves… then he’ll engulf them in his embrace then. He’ll wait.
Of course, that is if you’re safe.
For Floyd, no matter whether it’s the Lantern or you that’s attacked, he’s seeing red. The Lantern was your workplace. It could have hurt you, killed you-
There’s no reasoning with Floyd on this. He’s not even going to bother with calling backup. He’s holding up both of his guns, sending bullet after bullet after the attackers with a deathly calmness. Floyd fires again and again, until the click of his guns alert him to the lack of bullets within.
Oh, if they attack you? Floyd’s pulling out all the stops. He wouldn’t even bother with a gun, effectively tackling the attacker with his arms alone, disarming them with a sharp slap to the wrist. A sadistic grin spread across his lips, you’ll have to close your own eyes as he snaps the poor attacker’s arms.
It’s messy, it’s gruesome, it’s cruel.
A pair of wet hands grab at your hands, staining your fingers a bright crimson red. Hey, why are you looking away? There’s no need to be scared now, Floyd took care of it. They were going to do so much worse to you, Y’know?
His arms snake around your torso, pulling you gently towards his torso. Floyd’s doing his best to be all soft and gentle to you, and you know that. But it’s hard not to be afraid of those same soft and tender hands, once you’ve seen them quite literally rip a person apart.
Aw, you’re trembling, Shrimpy! Relax, Floyd’s going to bring you somewhere safe. Somewhere that’s just you and him.
Isn’t that just so nice of him?
120 notes · View notes
bakugoushotwife · 7 hours
Text
happy birthday bakugou!! // k. bakugou x fem! reader (selfship tbh)
warnings: very self indulgent, pregnancy, reader is a woman and mother already, bakufamily hehe <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
the tug on the covers is what wakes him. he’s always been a light sleeper, trained for years to detect any threat, even when he’s supposed to be at rest. maybe he’s a little less concerned about the random noises he hears around his house nowadays; primed from years of marriage to the clumsiest woman alive–and fatherhood to the clumsiest children. another tug. though he had hoped to sleep in today of all days. he took a personal day from the agency just to relax, cuddle up to his wife, maybe have a late brunch with the kids. the perfect day of rest for a busy man like him. 
he peeps an eye open to see if you’re laying in your spot. tch, hag. he rolls his closed eyes and decides to turn over; he could probably go back to sleep. another tug. 
“daddy!” bakugou’s little daughter huffs, patience clearly run out by that inherited scowl tugging on her features. complete with a stomp and all, natsuki pulls again. he loves his kids, cherishes being a father, but please. he just wants a minute longer. is that so much to ask on his birthday?
“nats, go get yer ma or come lay down.” he grumbles in the groggy morning voice you love to hear so much. your mini me happily obliges, giggling as she scales her way up onto the bed. she’s only five, and is absolutely her father’s biggest fan. he’s especially soft for his first born, and his precious little princess–hearing her laughter sheds the grump right off of him, heart melting a little as she sneaks under a heavy arm to lay next to him. “where is yer ma anyway?” he pouts, making her poke at the deep frown. 
“shhh, can’ tell you!! i distract.” she nods. oh how she possesses your grace. that makes him snort, and he already knows you have to be scheming something for today’s ‘holiday’, as you would call it. and his son is being held captive to be an accomplice to such a crime. you know he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it. he hates that kind of attention and would much rather spend his time cuddling with his wife all day than sitting at some restaurant accepting gifts from his friends. he nearly has everything a man could ever ask for, a beautiful wife, healthy and gorgeous children–though he could tack on a few more there–the perfect home, a great and satisfying career…the list goes on. it took years to get to this place of peace. so, he really doesn’t want anything for his birthday this year. other than your ass back in bed of course. 
“oh yeah? she told ya to do that?” he blinks sleepy eyes open, meeting ones of a matching hue staring up at him. she nods. “what’s yer brother doin’?” he knows it’s a trap, but hey. you shoulda sent the kid that can’t make complete sentences yet. 
“helpin’ mama make ‘cakes n bacon!” she reveals proudly, eyes growing wide when she realizes she’s betrayed her mission. she claps a hand over her mouth and huffs at him. “mama tryin’ to be nice.” 
“ain’t she? let’s go help her.” he chuckles a little bit, sliding out of bed with her on his hip. his sweatpants hang low, but he won’t take the time to change right now. his hair is tousled from sleep, but as always he’s effortlessly and ruggedly handsome in a way that will never cease to make you weak in the knees. natsuki holds onto her father’s shoulder as he softly pads down the stairs, ready to foil your surprise. he holds his finger over his lips, nodding at his little girl. she mirrors the action, swearing to be silent. he peeks around the corner, this sight bringing a gentle smile to his face. maturing and loving and having a family had simmered him down a bit, but he never lost his spark. he always knows how to balance it though, and as badly as he wants to jump around the wall and catch you—laugh that you thought you could be so sneaky; he doesn’t. you’re holding your two year old son in a similar way to his carry on natsuki, dancing around the kitchen to keep him from fussing while you plate up his favorite strawberry banana pancakes, a signature you introduced him to. you dollop out whipped cream that katsuo promptly puts his hands into, making you laugh softly and shake your head. you stick some candles into the pancakes and that’s when it really gets him. 
so much care and laborious love poured into this, he can’t rob you of such a simple gift to him. natsuki pats his shoulder, pointing to the living room as you fix up the smudged whipped cream and fix your children’s plates. he sees that you’ve turned it into a massive pillow fortress, blankets and string lights and the tv tucked under it all so you could lounge about all day. the family cat perched comfortably on one of the fluffiest blankets, and blame fatherhood, he feels the sting of emotion behind his eyes. it’s perfect. it’s a gift he wouldn’t have even picked for himself–it nearly makes him laugh. you would find a way to go and do something for him anyway–even when he swears he just wants to lay around the house all day. he says that and you go and give him domestic bliss. 
you walk around the corner with his plate in hand, katsuo in the other, prepared to creep upstairs and wake your sleeping husband up for breakfast in bed. then you’d rouse him to come downstairs to the massive movie theater pillow fort you built. but meh—it seems your plans were mere…outlines. your smile droops, but then replaces itself upon noticing just how shocked and happy katsuki really was. he loathes surprises, and no—you would not drag the man out for birthday dinners or even a private date for you two. he’d much rather cook for you and the kids anyway. you know that. you know him better than you know yourself. but you would be damned if a year went by where you didn’t celebrate him. and yeah–you shoulda sent the kid that can’t make complete sentences yet. 
“this is real nice, princess.” he hums, turning to face you and letting you glimpse at your regretful daughter. 
“sorry mama..” she pouts, making you chuckle softly. there wasn’t much of a chance to get away with this anyway–it’s not her fault. 
“aw, it’s okay baby. now we can just sing happy birthday to daddy in the fort!” you grin, nodding at him to get comfortable inside. he smiles warmly, because that’s all he feels. complete and utter warmth from head to toe. he leans forward and kisses your forehead, taking katsuo out of your arms and taking the kids to nestle comfortably in the pillow seating arrangements you crafted. it is an incredible arrangement by the way. he’s sure it took you hours. he feels that signature tightness in his chest–the overwhelming love he has for you is sometimes a physical phenomenon. katsuo crawls over the pillows to tuck himself into a fluffy corner close to his sister, clapping his hands together in anticipation of the pancakes he saw his mom whipping up earlier. you duck under the entrance sheet and grin brightly—an expression he knows and loves. you’re proud of yourself, and you should be. you drop to your knees, hitting the fluffy couch cushions and fluffy down blankets. you scoot forward on them and then sit back, displaying your beautiful pancake creations. 
you nod to the kids who join you in a beautiful–albeit choppy–rendition of the happy birthday tune, and he beams all the while. his heart may genuinely burst from his chest though.  the greatest gift he ever got was truly his wife–and you’ve given him two more. he leans up to blow out the candles, leaning up yet again to steal a kiss from you before he takes the plate from you entirely. “thank ya, lil squirt. and m’littler squirts.” he ruffles natsuki’s hair, getting into the breakfast as you double back for everything else. the love in his eyes, the intensity that he always carries—it’s a gift in itself to you. you’re gonna watch shitty tv all day with your kids, being lazy and awful as you snack around all day. you call it a taurus’ paradise. of course you sneak your final gift in too, snagging it from the counter. 
he holds his arm out for you, chewing animatedly and nodding to show you his excitement. you lean into his hold and nestle close, putting a show on for your kids. they have limited tv time please don’t even start. “happy birthday, my love.” you hum again, kissing his cheek. 
“you spoil me, gorgeous.” he smiles at you, all soft and tender to give you butterflies. he tucks his hand into the dip of your waist and starts feeding you your food like it’s your birthday. he does that a lot. you think he gets nearly uncomfortable at being spoiled–or at least wants to include you in the feeling he has. it’s adorable either way. 
“you deserve it. you work so hard, you’re such a good dad and husband for me…i want to give you everything.” you chuckle softly, laying your head on his shoulder, hugging around his bicep. 
“woman, look at those kids an’ yerself an’ say that again.” he says, the pinnacle of affection despite his way of speaking. “ya gave me everythin’.” 
“nuh uhhh,” you giggle, digging in your pocket. “not everything. got something else for ya.” you place it in his hands—the only other thing he’d ever want: a positive pregnancy test. “one step closer to—what did you call it? bakugou total world domination?”
he sets his plate to the side and pulls you into his lap, clutching you close, chuckling a bit. “yer kiddin’! he nuzzles his face into your neck and sighs happily. “i love you.” he hums softly, shaking his head, “this gotta be the best birthday ever..” he adds, and he means it wholeheartedly. gone were the days of war and daily sacrifice. every once and a while a villain will get on his nerves for a few days—but he always comes home to his (growing) family. he didn’t even have nightmares anymore, blissfully coasting in a stream of peace he never imagined he’d know. the idea of having a lifetime like this was almost too good to be true if he hadn’t known he’d do anything to protect it.
“but don’t think we won’t celebrate on our own later~” you purr in his ear. sheesh, you keep proving this day gets better and better.
50 notes · View notes
cultofdixon · 1 day
Text
The differences in power
Negan Smith • She/Her Pronouns • The little lady is the one with all the power and when the group found out, maybe that will be their window • ANGST/SFW • TW: Major character death(s) / Canon Violence / Anxiety / Injuries • Re-Writing Canon
Requested by: Anon
Tumblr media
“Listen here Dwight. You don’t do what I fucking say and I promise yea I will bash her fucking skull in with my—-“ Negan stopped his threat and dropped Dwight back onto his feet as he anxious stated to step back. “Y/N. What are you doing here?”
“Oh me?” Y/N smiles making herself known in the hall they were in, as she gave Dwight a glare resulting in him running off.
“See now how am I supposed to beat him into submission if you are always around”
“Do you not want me around? I could go…” Y/N pouts turning around to walk off but Negan quickly took her hand spinning her back resulting in that devilish smirk of hers. “What, baby?”
“You…God, you” Negan folds and couldn’t be mad at his woman for interrupting the heated conversation earlier as he brought his lips against hers.
When news about the outpost came through the Sanctuary, Laura quickly went to the big man’s room knowing she would find Y/N there as she gave her a confused look until her shoulders slumped giving her an idea of what she wanted.
“Do you have any fucking idea how many good soldiers I lost because we didn’t put down that son of a bitch from the Hilltop?! AND YOURE TELLING ME THE RAT BASTARD GREGORY SURVIVED HIS PUNISHMENT” Negan snaps in Simon’s face as he kept his cool on the matter even if what happened wasn’t his fault. The big man had to yell at somebody. “Get that one bitch in here that informed—-“
“She’s dead sir. We don’t have intel on who exactly she came in contact with. But from what we do know…with what Gregory told, it’s exactly who you’re thinking of”
“Simon. I swear to FUCKING GOD. If you don’t get me definite results on these fuckers. I will hang you on the fence out—“ Negan pulled away from being in Simon’s face when he spotted Y/N peak her head through the door with a soft knock.
“Sorry if you’re busy with your boyfriend I can—-“
“You better get that sweet ass of yours over here, darling.” Negan smirks pushing Simon aside as Y/N brought herself up to her man wrapping her arms around his neck.
As Simon slipped away from the two to meet Laura in the hallway, he gave her a thankful expression.
“Load up the car. Gotta check in with a few hidden eyes”
“Think Negan will find out?”
“Hell no, his woman will keep him busy. Besides, we’ll look good with the information we’ll receive” Simon smirks heading off as Laura rolled her eyes before following the man.
A couple days passed and Y/N found herself waiting in the loading docks of the Sanctuary after being told by one of Negan’s men he expects her there. She thought that was a little confusing but when she saw cars pulling up, her spirits lifted like usual knowing Negan has come home.
But it was hectic.
“Get the prisoner in the goddamn cell. Simon, you gotta keep your eyes on Hilltop. I ain’t fucking letting that community get the better of me with this new one in our roaster. And I swear to fucking god if Alexandria pulls something in two weeks I’m killing—-“ Negan stops himself when he stopped abruptly in front of Y/N. “Hey baby” he instantly shifts his mood, leaning down to kiss her cheek as the confusion writes itself on her face.
The sound of the men struggling to contain the prisoner caught Y/N’s attention as she let Negan continue to kiss her cheek down to her shoulder while her eyes glued on the scene.
Then there was this anxious realization when Y/N locked eyes with the man they were dragging in. Hell, he even tried to stop to get a good look at her.
“What is it, baby?”
“Nothing, baby. Just thinking”
“Now that can be dangerous” Negan laughs lightly, bringing his lips to hers as she hums against his lips keeping her arms around him when they parted.
Once night consumes the day, Y/N made her way down the hall in her pajamas as she surprisingly slipped out of her and Negan’s room without him stirring. She knew where everything was in the Sanctuary she’s been there long enough.
Dwight caught a glimpse of her in the corner of his eye when he was watching the prisoner from the other side of the closed door.
“What are you doing awake?”
“Couldn’t sleep. Is that the prisoner in there?”
“Yup. To make it more difficult for Alexandria to want to attack us” Dwight rolls his eyes bringing his attention back to the book in hand. “Don’t report me to big man but I really don’t know how you could even love him for what he does”
“I…I don’t exactly know what he does” Y/N frowns crossing her arms leaning against the wall Dwight was propped up against. His full attention on her. “I guess it’s blind ignorance. But I also didn’t fall in love with him for what he does as a leader”
Dwight couldn’t get mad at that, but for some small reason…he’s worried for her. Worried of her finding out.
Even with the small incidents she has seen.
“Dwight. Is your prisoner’s name Daryl?”
“What? You hear that in passing or something?”
The silence she gave only brought more confusion to Dwight with a bit of curiosity. Y/N shrugs it off and leaves the man to continue his watch of a closed, locked door.
________
“She hasn’t turned up”
“We can’t wait here forever, son. Unless we want the walkers to find us” Hershel informed Daryl as he kept his attention glued to the darkness of the forest waiting for someone to turn up.
“Daryl. We gotta go. Find somewhere for the night” Rick grabbed his shoulder only for him to dramatically yank his body away from him. “She’s gone for all we know. There’s nothin’ we can do”
Daryl held on for a little while longer until Carol pulled him away from the banks of the freeway.
Meanwhile an injured Y/N had collapsed in the woods after hours of walking endlessly in the wrong direction. She thought it was the end for her as she laid in the dirt letting the weakness take over.
Then she was suddenly lifted from the ground who knows how much later since the collapse. She felt safe enough to lean into the unknown man.
“I’ve gotcha darling”
________
Y/N found herself appearing in that hallway every other hour of the next couple days and it draws some suspicion from Dwight that he even brought it up to Negan.
“Are you implying my girl is a mole?” Negan questions with a threatening undertone in his voice as he inches closer to the shorter man pinning him against the nearest wall.
“N-Negan I’m just. Making assumptions here” Dwight laughs nervously. “Don’t listen to me”
“Are you sure? You’re assumin’ my girl knows the people in this little community that I plan to fucking destroy—-“
“Babe” Y/N interprets watching Negan scramble a bit letting go of Dwight as he gave her a terrified look. Resulting in her giving him a “beat it” expression which he did instantly while her man stayed. “What were you doing?”
“Dwight got it in his head that you might be a mole for this new community…but he also hasn’t been a Savior as long as you have”
“You know he’s wrong right?”
“I do. I’ll always believe you over anybody else…” He trailed and that drew her to cross her arms expressing annoyance. “But…I have to ask darling”
“What?”
“Do you know…who Rick Grimes is?”
Are you going to hurt me like you hurt them if I said yes? Y/N thought as she gave a soft nod watching his shoulders tense with the new information but when he instantly cracked to watching her cower. Made him feel like a monster.
Funny…isn’t it?
“…I would never hurt you”
“I…I know…” Y/N frowns still avoiding his gaze. “Negan, you have to tell me what you do to these people…I need to hear it from you and not from the violence hungry soldiers or the innocent”
What she did know, was the reason to want control. The loss of his wife Lucille. She understood why he couldn’t trust anyone. She knew about the killing…just not to the extent that it was. What he does to these people psychologically was…heartbreaking.
He learned who she knew before he found her. She had a group back in Atlanta…that held up in a quarry. Her best friend was the one they took hostage and the one who saved her from the city was the man he killed.
They left her, is what Negan would think for Y/N to side with his actions. But she doesn’t. She has her own anger towards the things that have happened to her…but she would never kill a man to make things right.
“It’s okay to hate me after learning about everything”
Y/N remained silent as the two were now sat on their bed in their shared room.
“I won’t give you anything to cause more harm”
“I know”
“I hate you for killing people…innocent or not”
“I know…”
“But I hate myself for loving you and only wanting to stay in the moment from when you saved me” Y/N felt the tears roll off her cheeks as he tried to wipe away her tears but she retracted at first before suddenly bringing herself into his arms latching onto him.
The top Savior, the boss, the man fears by many…fell apart in her embrace holding onto her for dear life as if she’d disappear if he let go.
When the morning came, Negan sat alone in the conference room having arrived before everybody else he asked to join him on this trip to Alexandria a couple days before the deadline. To his surprise, Y/N entered the room dressed for a run as she gave him a stern look.
“They will recognize you”
“I know”
“…I don’t…I can’t have you getting hurt”
“I won’t…if I do, I know what you would do”
“I won’t punish with you present”
“I wish you didn’t at all.” And with that she left to check on those preparing the vehicles.
When the debrief ended and everyone was loading into the vehicles…Negan approached his waiting for Y/N to join him as she watched Dwight drag Daryl into the truck.
“Darling?”
“He won’t give you anything.”
“What?”
“He won’t give you what you want. Daryl is stubborn. He won’t…he doesn’t turn his back on his people” Y/N felt the old sting she felt that night, Negan didn’t even have to say what he wanted to know that she’s feeling all she felt that night. “Abusing him won’t give you anything unless you brought the dead back to life”
Negan bites his lip anxiously before stopping Dwight from shutting the doors to the truck and giving Y/N a look. She instantly took that chance to climb in with the hunter as Dwight gave the boss man a concerned expression but his immediately went dark.
“Don’t ask questions unless you want to meet your maker, Dwight.” He snapped, walking away from the truck to get into his car to lead the group.
The second the doors shut, Y/N sat close to the door while Daryl hugged the wall by the drivers.
He’s dead. Has to be.
This is a goddamn ghost in front of him.
“You ain’t real”
Y/N didn’t say anything and watched the man she knew to have a hard exterior just fall apart.
“You ain’t real. You died. You died that night at the barn fire. You never turned up. You ain’t real!” Daryl shouted at her but she kept a level head while the driver groans in annoyance.
“You didn’t look for me. None of you did”
“Please—-If this is some sick joke!” Daryl snapped once more, this time when they halted Y/N punched the man in the arm.
“ITS REAL” Y/N snapped back. “I never died. You never looked for me. You all left me behind”
“And now what? You’re a Savior. One of the enemy? I’ve seen yea. Didn’t believe it. Caught glimpses enough to just think you’re not real. But every time I saw you, you were with him.” Daryl frowns avoiding her eyes when he scoffs along with the next part. “What, the dick game that good?”
“If you’re going to piss me off, I’m not going to help you” Y/N whispered in anger as the last part confused Daryl.
“What? Now?!”
“No, I just need you to listen carefully”
With hesitation, he did. Before more could be discussed, they were at Alexandria and everyone unloaded. Y/N stuck in the back out of Negan’s way but when the Saviors separated to raid the community…that’s when she locked eyes with an old familiar pair.
“What’s gotten into you, Mr. Grimes?” Negan smirks turning around and his expression fell watching Y/N get closer to make sure she’s not seeing a ghost.
But Rick was. He was rethinking who died at the lineup, maybe he died and this was his hell.
Being faced with who he left behind
“What are you taking from them?” Y/N questions Negan while keeping eye contact with the deer in headlights.
“Everything. 90% of everything”
“No”
A few Saviors turned their heads toward Negan for an immediate lash out. None of them seeing how whipped the man is before until then…
“What would you suggest then?”
Y/N, being the person she’s always been, wouldn’t let them suffer because of past actions. She told Negan to let them keep their beds and 75% of their pantry goods. She knows he would argue about the weaponry, she’s heard how he was in other communities. So targeting stuff he wouldn’t like to argue with her about, he will do for her instantly.
As Negan went to check on what they were taking back to the Sanctuary, Rick took note on the power Y/N has over the man that killed their family. But he couldn’t help himself the second he was alone with her.
“He killed Glenn at the lineup” Rick blurted out watching her tense. “You’re with a man that killed your best friend and you’re okay with that? You know what you could do to stop hi—-“
“The fuck are you telling her?” The Savior Arat got up in Rick’s face when he was only telling Y/N.
“The truth of what you monsters have done” Rick stated pushing her back and before Arat could get up and personal again, Y/N stepped in between them.
“Don’t.”
“Or what? You’ll have Negan kill me?” Arat hissed, not liking the fact that Y/N stood her ground. “He’d do anything you ask of him princess. We are here to show who’s boss…and that’s not you”
“You lay a finger on anybody and I’ll rip it off”
That only brought a smirk out of Arat as she pulls herself away to continue the job. Y/N turned to Rick giving him a saddened look but there was something else about it that intrigued him.
“Y/N—-“
“Keep your head down Rick Grimes. Or others will be watching it roll” Y/N frowns stepping away and toward Negan’s car to stay in for the remainder of the visit.
The drive back was quiet and more than Arat was made about Y/N’s decision. They still took from the community, Y/N knew she couldn’t completely skew his decision into not taking anything. She needed to be not so suspicious. But that didn’t matter.
Y/N stood outside the conference room eavesdropping on Negan yelling at several saviors that have told Y/N what he has done to the communities. If they had kept their mouths shut and to themselves, nothing would’ve reached her ears.
She pushed the door open to listen to the once yelling man, stop and turn into a softness only she heard and those who witnessed his change around her.
“Let’s go, tomorrow will be different” Simon assures Negan as he walks past Y/N with the others following after him.
Negan waited for her to approach him at the table bringing herself to slot between his legs as he was sat on the table. Y/N rests her hands on his thighs feeling his forehead rest against hers.
“I’m sorry for yellin’”
“Why are you apologizing? It wasn’t—-“
“I know you were eavesdropping, darling. I was mad about the stunt you pulled…hell I’m more mad at myself for letting you”
“Negan…”
“Yikes…First name. Guess I’m in the dog ho—-“
“Would you hurt me if I went against your rule here?”
The man instantly pulled away and carefully took a hold of her face with both his hands as his expression fell.
“I would never hurt you. My empire could fall because of you and I’d never lay a finger” Negan frowns, wanting to know what’s going on inside that beautiful mind of hers that is hidden behind the sad look on her external features. “I love you, Y/N. Don’t ever think that I’d hurt you ever”
Y/N didn’t say those three words back as all she did was bring her lips against his. Enjoying the peacefulness it brought, for it might be the last…
“Let’s go to bed, love”
“Mm…okay, darling”
As the night progressed, Y/N managed to slip out of his grasp leaving their room but not before grabbing his keys.
She managed to get to the prison cells without being noticed as all she needed to do was get Dwight away from the cell in mind. It would’ve only been difficult if Y/N didn’t know Sherry. She helped her distract her partner in order to get to Daryl’s cell.
But yet another obstacle stepped in her way.
“What do you think you’re doing”
“Get out of my way Arat”
“Or what?”
Y/N stared her down and went to walk passed, she didn’t get far until Arat grabbed a fist full of her hair to pull her back. Little did she know that Y/N’s instinct was to grab her arm and throw her body over her person. With the right formation, it’s down without struggle. The self defense classes from before the world ended still came in handy.
The thud of Arat hitting the concrete was only going to alert people so Y/N went fast with unlocking the door to Daryl’s cell and dragging him out of the facility.
Daryl didn’t have to get far to know Y/N hesitated. He turned toward her, being tossed a set of keys for one of the bikes.
“Come with me”
“I can’t.”
“Y/N…he’s a monster. He’s killed—-“
“I know—-“
“And you’re okay with that?” Daryl frowns wanting to know why she’s doing this. Why she’s hesitating and staying with a man that’s hurt many…”Y/N. Please. You can help us take—-“
“And I will. But not in the way you all want…you want him dead. I want him alive. For before this whole empire…he was just Negan Smith. Not a scary savior that takes so much from others because the world took everything from him.” Y/N frowns knowing Daryl wouldn’t get it, she doesn’t give him much credit. “I will help you take him down…take the Saviors down…but you won’t see either of us at the end of it”
“Y/N…”
“Go, Daryl. Before they realize what I’ve done”
“…I waited for you. I waited for you at the highway that night” Daryl frowns feeling the tears burn and threaten to fall. “Rick made us leave…I didn’t want to”
“Daryl…go back to your family before this was all for nothing”
The hesitation ached at him as he kept looking back every step of getting out of there. Daryl wanted to scream at her and take her but she’s always been a smart person…so he left for the Hilltop. Knowing Alexandria would be their first target for his disappearance.
As Y/N quietly made it back inside, she noticed their bedroom door open and the light on. She peered inside finding an annoyed Arat and Simon talking to Negan who instantly dismissed them. Arat of course purposely bumping into Y/N on the way out as Simon gave her a more sympathetic look.
Once it was the two of them and the door shut, Negan instantly pulled Y/N into his embrace asking her in whispers if she was okay. If she was hurt in any way. The confusion struck her as she brought her arms around him resting her head against his chest.
“Negan…”
Negan held her tightly feeling her shift to bring her gaze to look up when he parted enough to look her in the eye.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
“Yes…” Y/N frowns bringing her hands to rest on his face, her thumbs gently wiping away his tears. “But, Negan…you can come with me…leave it all behind.”
“But I—“
“You don’t have to decide now. You will know where to find me”
“Y/N…”
Please…
34 notes · View notes
saintmagx · 10 hours
Text
call it what you want 🎶
Grayson Waller x Reader
An: I just loved this idea and had to write about it! Also not sure what Scarlett goes by irl so I’m giving her the nickname Beth cause I think that’s what I’d actually call her 🤔
‼️ warnings: swearing, use of real names, not proof read, we are dramatic asf, Grayson is dumb and oblivious but we love him, not really much substance just a little short story‼️
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“No, absolutely not.”
“Matty please?”
“Yn I’m sorry i just can’t. I’ve spent so much time trying to be the bad guy, if I go, I lose all credibility. I’m sure if you ask Trin and Beth, they would go with you.”
“Trin is bringing Jon and Beth is bringing Kevin. I will literally be third wheeling everyone. Know what? Just forget I asked. It’s fine.” Upset, i storm off.
Taylor Swift. Taylor fucking Swift was the cause of this argument. The Eras tour was finally heading to Florida and i had tickets for us and our friends to go, however between purchasing the tickets and the actual concert itself, Matty decided - no wait sorry Grayson fucking Waller decided to start beef with the swifties - Rendering his attendance impossible.
Grabbing my phone I do what literally everyone else does when they need to rant about their man. Put it in the group chat for the girls to back you up.
Me
Matty says he isn’t going to the concert 😢
Trin
Girl I’m sorry. That boy is dumb as hell. Why he starting beef knowing we had this concert?
Beth
Men are dumb - screw him, we will still have fun girl 💕
Me
Honestly I don’t even wanna go now, yall can find someone to take our place.
Trin
No no no we ain’t gon do that. You’re gonna get you fine ass dressed to impress and you are gonna come to the concert with us.
Beth
Honestly yn it wouldn’t be the same without you there, please come - I’ll make sure your glass is always full 😜
Trin
I second that! Come on girl.
Me
Know what you girls are right, screw Matty. I’m still gonna go and enjoy myself. Drinks on yall though - promise is a promise 😚
Tumblr media
Friday Night Smackdown
Backstage I stand with Trin who is currently warming up for her match tonight.
“We haven’t really spoke about it to be honest. I know I’m being over dramatic but he knew how excited I was for this concert.” I complain
A familiar scent fills my senses. A strong pair of arms wrap round my waist enclosing me in a tight embrace.
“There’s my girl, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He says.
“Well you’ve found me, now I gotta go get ready for my match.” I say u wrapping myself from Mattys grasp.
“I’ll see you out there Trin.” I announce before quickly leaving, leaving him confused.
“Boy, you done fucked up.” Trin
“What did I do wrong?” He says.
Shaking her head she replies “the fact that you don’t even know what you’ve done wrong makes this whole thing even worse.”
“Come on Trin, help me out.” He pleads
“The concert Matt, she was looking forward to you and her going and you’ve let her down. Do you know she wasn’t even going to go because of it? This is something she loves and wanted to experience it with you. You better get your shit together and sort it out before the gig.”
“Fuck!” He says letting out a huge sigh. He didn’t mean to hurt yn, he knew she was looking forward to the concert but didn’t think it would be a big deal if he wasn’t there.
“This whole swiftie thing has just got out of hand, but don’t worry Trin, I’ll fix it!”
“You better.”
Tumblr media
Day of Era’s concert
Perfect you say to yourself.
You and the girls had decided to dress up as your favourite Era. You had gone with Lover era. Standing looking the mirror you had found the perfect dress, a pink off the shoulder tulle mini dress, it was the epitome of lover - and of course your outfit wouldn’t be complete without and arm full of friendship bracelets ready to swap with all the other attendees.
You had sent off a text to Trin and Beth to tell them you were ready to leave. A small knock at the bedroom door startles you slightly, knowing it would be Matty you tell him to come in. Turning around you are met with Matty dressed up with pink trousers - similar to the shade of your dress. A white Taylor swift T-shirt and and a few little friendship bracelets on his arm.
“We ready to go babe?” He asks
“I thought you weren’t coming?”
“I wasn’t, but I didn’t stop to think how much you wanted me to be there, and how much I wanted to be there with you. I want to have all these experiences with you and I can’t do that if I’m sitting at home.”
He walks closer to me and takes hold of my hands, looking into my eyes he continues.
“I love you so much yn, no swiftie beef is gonna stop me from making your dreams and wishes come true.”
He leans down and tenderly kisses my lips.
“I love you too Matty, you have no idea how much this all means to me.”
The truth is he did know how much it meant to yn. He could see it in her eyes and he made a silent promise to himself that he would never again be the reason her eyes were filled with sadness.
Tumblr media
Thank you for reading whatever the hell this was. Appreciate the likes and reposts.
If you want tagged let me know! 💕
Tagged:
@jeysbae
@blueflowermentality
@co-sharkie
26 notes · View notes
licantropa · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Happy Holidays!!
#Mianite#I’d like to apologize for the tag essay you don’t gotta read all that idk what happened#you know its interesting how red has called jordan ‘skipper Sparklez’ implying that he places them on the same level#especially since both of them have messed with capsize’s ship. but jordan places himself on the same level as capsize#because theyre both captains (which stops being true since capsize demotes him to boatswain)#and capsize makes Tom a captain meaning she places him on the same level as herself (Tom is a captain because he owns a ship btw)#(which btw is why capsize was like ‘you’re leaving my crew?’ to Jordan when he got the ss jerry but technically since he says the ship is#‘for capsize’s fleet’ it belongs to her)#I think the issue with Jordan and Capsize is that he doesn’t actually like her as an individual but as an idea#that idea being ‘having a teammate’ because it’s just been him up until that point.#arguably jordan doesn’t really care about capsizes feelings on things examples of this are#her saying no to getting married but he like ignores that and continues on with the idea that they’re together/ going to get married.#him throwing gold at her and assuming that was all it took to get a date out of her instead of asking (like everyone’s given her gold he#ain’t special) and the ss jerry which was made to impressive her but it’s in a color he likes and also he named it#also him stepping over capsizes boundaries and kissing her#me personally I will not write them having a positive relationship because Jordan’s ruined it for himself truly#I think we as a society need to put more blame on Jordan when it comes to capsizes death by the way#like while he wasn’t the only one in the room BUT he was the only one capable#Tucker was stuck in a hole Tom was being a bitch in the background Red was paralyzed in fear#and when Capsize gets threatened you know what he says? ‘Skipper you gonna do something’ (something along those lines anyways I don’t fully#remember) like he let Furia fucking villain monologue are you serious???#also it’s way more interesting that they don’t get along#or maybe i just like issues idk#feel free to disagree ofc
90 notes · View notes
sapphic-storm69 · 11 months
Text
POV: you’re staring at the person who made the saddest, most depressing movie you’ve ever seen, into a meme
Tumblr media
#this is about joker (2019) btw#like sorry you didn’t have the mental capacity to understand it but like….. you don’t have to understand the underlying themes and metaphors#to understand that this was a sad movie#ain’t no way bitches looked at this movie and said ‘yeah this shit hilarious haha’ how ignorant you gotta be to think that#joker 2019#‘the world does not shrink to your size just because you lack the depth to understand it’ said wonderfully by jaboukie on twitter#like I fucking hate everyone who participated in the meme bc like…… idk I think it’s disrespectful to all the wonderful people who worked on#it#also bc it’s fucking annoying and I loved the movie and it’s reduced to what? a fucking meme?#you look at a man who struggles all throughout the movie. who obviously needs mental help yet is denied by everyone who has the power#TO HELP HIM!!!!! don’t tell me this doesn’t remind you of something?#and NO!! you’re NOT just like him!#and yes you can relate to him but it’s the fucking incels on Reddit who sit on their ass all day and argue with random people#on the internet who say it.#it’s the bitches who victimize theirselves when they have no right to do so that say ‘he just like me’#he’s been made into this fucking caricature by people who lack the ability to analyze and understand media#I know for a fucking FACT that those people said ‘why do wr even need English class lol we SPEAK english 😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣’ ain’t no way….#people who have been pushed and prodded and abused by the system#who have suffered and not given a chance to fight back#THEY’RE the ones who at allowed to say ‘he just like me’#NOT the people who have no idea what that’s like!!!!!!!#sorry I’m passionate#lol#rant post#rant
2 notes · View notes
blerghfish · 2 years
Text
Hands off
Hands off our bodies, you say,
Hands off my body, I say, and
You push me and shove me
You think you are above me.
I cannot be trusted to know what to do with my body,
is that not the idiocy you spew?
That I have the knowledge of someone new to this world,
Just a girl who doesn’t know what she’s doing.
Hands off our bodies, you say,
Hands off my body, I say, and
You laugh at and mock me.
You think you can block me.
Because we are supposed to be guaranteed the right
to Life, Liberty, and Property.
But how can we when you make such a mockery of these
that are supposed to be unalienable, according to your decrees.
Hands off our bodies, you say,
Hands off my body, I say, and
You crush and sneer at me,
You think you should be revered by me.
How are we given life when we are denied procedures to keep
Alive; our bodies have been proven not kind.
And you think we are out of our mind, unable to know
What is right for ourselves, so you go and choose for us.
What the fuck gave you that right?
Hands off our bodies, you say,
Hands off my body, i scream, and
You kill and ignore me,
You can’t hide that you actually deplore me.
Liberty and Property, the other two unalienable rights,
Supposedly, but how is this meant to be guaranteed
When your greed and lust for power ensure that we are not
Trusted to be capable and mature with our very beings.
Hands off our bodies, you say,
Hands off my body, I say.
I am dead and you are not.
Your body was never at risk. Your freedom never at risk.
You and your lustful greed stole my body from me and all control I might have had over it. We are dying in droves and all you can offer is a grin at your victory over a perceived injustice that was never there to begin with.
what about the babies?
fuck your babies
How can I tell you to keep your hands off my body when I am dead and there is no longer a body to lay your hands on?
So you move to the next unlucky victim, to repeat your crimes again and again.
This is not justice.
This is not life.
This is not liberty.
Go fuck yourself.
6 notes · View notes
thexsilentxwordsmith · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
From the request here
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: When a movie night has you questioning your bodies worth, Simon catches you in the shower to show you that your body is perfect just the way that it is.
Word Count: 4.3 k
Warnings:
Tumblr media
“Look at the jugs on her,” one of the guys says at the busty blonde that has just been introduced for the first time in the film. A few others follow suit, whooping at the gorgeous, petite female main character popping up on screen as the movie really gets going. “That’s a woman you could lose yourself in. Fuck, I wish I could find a girl like her; I’d be a happy man for life. To have that waiting at home for me, I’d never even be tempted to stray.”
This is usually how movie night on base goes: people piling into the rec center ready to watch the latest movie from the personal collection from one of the members, but mostly it just devolves into a testosterone fest of horny boys itching to have something to focus their sexual frustrations on by ogling at the new pretty little thing on screen. Usually it doesn’t bother you, you’re used to being around all that chaos, but tonight just feels different.
Simon isn’t one for this type of gathering, but he comes to keep an on the crowd and be nearer to you and as he watches out of the corner of his eye from his place standing towards the back, he notices how your body language changes as the guys continue to raucously talk about the leading lady and how beautiful she is. It’s almost imperceptible the way you shift in your seat while you pick at the skin of your lower lip with your teeth, your shoulders slumping down as you cross your arms, but he catches it outright. He knows you and he knows this isn’t normal. 
Something is bothering you.
The longer you sit there the worse it gets. Their lustful words just cut different tonight; maybe it’s exhaustion from being overworked or perhaps you’re just having an off day, but the longer they hoot and holler over the girl plastered before your eyes, the more you want to crawl out of your skin.
It’s about halfway through the movie when you slowly get up from your seat, trying not to draw attention to yourself by leaving too quickly and exit the rec without looking back. Simon is instantly concerned and wants to rush after you, but one of the newer recruits that seems to be the ringleader in all this turns to him as if to drag him into the depraved fun.
“Whatcha think; gotta admit she’s a fine thing, ain’t she Lieutenant?” he asks, nodding back at the screen. “Come on, even you gotta admit she’s perfect. Couldn’t hope to find anyone better.” 
The look that Simon gives the young man through his mask, that stone cold glare that could make even the bravest man shiver, instantly shuts him up and has him facing forward again to join his brothers in arms in their jokes. His brow furrows angrily behind the fabric as he looks over the crowd of boys once more before heading out, leaving quietly like a specter on his way to find where you had gotten to. 
Simon checks all the usual places, but you are nowhere to be found: the little area outside the rec where you usually join him for a smoke break, the mess hall, even your barracks are empty. Then he hears movement in the communal bathroom and knows he’s finally found you. 
It looks like you’ve been rushing to get done before anyone can catch you. Your hair is damp from the shower and it drips down to leave dark stains onto your t-shirt as you stand staring at yourself in the mirror behind the sink. Simon watches quietly from his obscured place by the door as you look yourself over, scrutinizing each detail from head to toe before you give up with a sigh and a diversion of your eyes, focusing on your toothbrush instead as you pick it up and turn on the faucet. So absorbed in what you are doing, you don’t hear the lock click closed or the pair of heavy boots that cross the length of the room until there is a presence upon you. 
“God, you’re so beautiful baby,” you hear that deep, gravelly voice sound from behind you while a bulky arm wraps itself around your waist from behind as Simon presses up against your back. You look back up into the mirror in front of you and are instantly met with a pair of brilliant brown eyes as he slowly removes his balaclava. “Just standin’ there fresh outta the shower and ya look like a fantasy.”  
Setting the mask on the sink he joins his other arm around you and leans his face in, the tip of his nose nuzzles into the side of your neck before he presses his lips against your jugular. His lips catch the feeling of your pulse quickening through the vein at his touch. Rough hands begin to splay across your clothed stomach, running across and down to your hips with gentle caresses that make you pause. Your eyes stare into the mirror to take in your combined form as he drapes himself over you, hot lips peppering your skin with no sign of letting up.
You chuckle dismissively, trying to play off his words as a joke. Your head still isn’t in the right place and even though you enjoy the feeling of his touch, disastrous thoughts still circle throughout to cloud your mind so that you second guess even his affections. 
“Oh, come off it,” you return as you grab the toothpaste off the countertop. “I do not.” 
There is no hesitation in his reply. “I’m serious,” he breathes that husky whisper against your skin as his lips continue down to your shoulder as his fingers pull the t-shirt away from your collar bone to reveal more skin for him to adorn with his mouth.
You roll your eyes in the mirror so that as he looks up briefly he catches the movement. “Yeah, sure,” you again dismiss him. “Whatever you say.”
Before you can even unscrew the cap to the toothpaste, Simon reaches past you to turn off the tap and take your things out of your hands before he rotates you around so that you face him. Your backside presses into the edge of the sink as you rest up against it, mouth scrunched to one side as he gazes back at you with intent. There is a subtle frown on his lips and an anxious look in his copper eyes. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned. “Somethin’ happen? Cause I did see ya leave in a hurry back there.”
You divert your eyes, ashamed of your lack of confidence that has come forward tonight. “I don’t know, it’s nothing,” you shrug, but he isn’t buying any of it. 
His large hand rests itself up under your chin, pulling your head back up to look into his face. “I think ya do know,” he says. “Will ya tell me?”
Clearing your throat, you give yourself a moment to figure out how best to proceed. “It’s just,” you say hesitantly, “I guess sometimes I just wish I looked like that, you know? I know I’m usually not this self-conscious, but tonight I guess I just hit a rough patch with my insecurities and something about the shit they were saying just got to me I guess. You see the way the guys talk about girls like in that movie, like she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. She’s so perfect and… I…”
You gesture with your head down the length of your body to emphasize your point that you are nothing like the actress: your breasts are on the smaller side, your thighs are incredibly thick, and your stomach is not completely flat. Simon follows your hand, looking you up and down before his eyes meet yours again.
“I’m not. I know it’s fucking stupid and I shouldn’t care about all that, it doesn’t really matter, but sometimes it’s just hard to ignore. I’m not the standard when it comes to beauty, but sometimes I just want to feel like I’m the most irresistible person in the room.”
It seems like he wants to say something, you can see his mouth shifting, but instead his gaze drifts down to your lips and he pulls your chin forward to close the distance between your mouths. Instantly he overtakes your mouth with his own, tenderly capturing your lips over and over with a gentle desperation that makes him shudder against you as he moves in closer. 
“Who the fuck said ya ain’t perfect?” he asks, his voice breathy against your lips. “Gimme that bastard’s name. You tell me right now so I can go ring their fuckin’ neck. Cause that is a goddamn lie.”
“No one said anything like that, it’s just the way I feel,” you answer honestly. “And you’re only saying that because you like me.” 
Immediately Simon pulls you into another long kiss as if he is trying to take those insecure words right out of your mouth before you can say anything else. Breaking the kiss, Simon licks his flushed lips and shakes his head. “Really? Ya don’t think your body can drive someone wild? Then what’s this, hmm?” he asks, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand forward so that he can place the palm over top of the soft bulge growing in his boxers. “See whatcha do to me, sweetheart? Ya think that’s lyin’?”
Your hand rubs over the swell and his hips unconsciously buck slightly against your hand as he hums in approval of your touch. It is instantaneous the way you have him begging for even a simple touch from you; no other has ever held that kind of power over him, not anyone that he would give it to so freely like he does you. The warm pressure from your hand causes the pulsing to intensify as he grows harder and you find your heart beat starting to match its throbbing.
“Ya don’t think I catch the men lookin’ at ya from time to time?” he asks as he leans his head forward until it rests against your own, hands moving up under the hem of your shirt to play with the toasty skin of your abdomen as he talks. “Ya don’t think I see that their eyes glaze over as they linger on your body a bit too long for my fuckin’ likin’? Just cause they won’t say it out loud doesn’t make it any less true that you have something about ya that would drive any man wild.”
His words are like a balm to your mind and the longer he speaks the more you find yourself falling under their spell. Rough fingers are pushing up higher into your shirt, pulling it up over your waist as he runs his palms across the area while his hips press into yours. He’s not forceful or harsh, his advances are only full of adoration in that type of intense devotion that only Simon Riley is capable of when it comes to savoring the best damn thing he has ever had.   
“Don’t let what ya heard back there hurt ya,” he says softly. “Yeah, ya don’t look like that bird on the screen, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t an absolute beauty. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen and I ain’t just sayin’ it, baby. But ya don’t just have ta take my word for it. Let me show ya that no one can hold a candle to what ya got.”
Simon pulls you over to one of the empty showers and gets it going, fiddling with the taps to make sure the water is going nice and warm before he turns his undivided attention back to you. Instantly his mouth is back on yours as one by one each piece of your clothing is removed and set aside in tandem with his own until you both stand before the other bare.
“I’ve already showered,” you mutter out between pauses as merely just a statement of fact rather than a reason to deny him.
Simon murmurs his disagreement into your mouth. “Don’t care,” he replies through a break in his kiss, continuing to take off your clothes as he dizzyingly tries to get at your body. “Can’t be havin’ those fuckin’ negative thoughts in that head of yours. Wanna take care of ya, make ya feel like the true beauty ya are.”
More kissing, so much that your lips are burning and raw from the friction. His mouth must be aflame too, but he doesn’t let up; he can’t, he’s captured in the wake of your allure and there is no getting out. 
“What if someone comes in?” The last of your questions spills out quick.
He chuckles at your needless worry. “Already locked the door sweetheart.”
Stretching his hand out, he checks the temperature to be sure it’s right before dragging you inside the steamy oasis. The curtain is barely pulled closed before he has you pinned at the back wall, his stocky torso rubbing against your voluptuous naked body as he steals the breath from your lungs, kissing you so thoroughly that there is no distinction between faces anymore.
The change in temperature has your nipples hardening, the blossoms spiking forward at attention, and Simon can feel them poking against his chest the longer he has your mouth locked in that dance of back and forth. The moment he is aware of their presence his mouth is salivating to get at them. 
You might think they are not perfect enough, but to him they are exactly what he wants.
Breaking the kiss abruptly, removing his mouth so quickly that a trial of spit still connects your lips a moment, he tilts his head downward. Being on the smaller side, he can fit your breast almost entirely in his mouth and he does, filling the cavity with as much of your tit as he can without choking. 
You can hardly remember anymore why the stupid comments had you so upset in the first place when you have a man like Simon who will dote on you like you are royalty. His is the only opinion you have come to care about and it is clear that there is nothing he will ever want more than you. 
He moans deep and guttural into your breast as he sucks while letting the end of his tongue flick around the nipple, circling the sensitive tissue until you are writhing against him as he holds you steady to the wall so that he can work. There is another breast after all that requires his attention and he intends to show it the same amount of affection as the other. Switching sides, he gets to work, keeping the first breast warm by cupping it in his hand.
It’s minutes of you quivering and whimpering before he emerges panting with his lips swollen and red, satisfied with his work so far. Giving his lips a break, Simon gently strokes your cheek with his fingers as he gazes into your eyes, swaying your bodies from side to side in easy movements. “Stay with me luv,” he says softly as he watches you take heavy breaths, “I ain’t done just yet.”
Those lips are on the move again to decorate your body, over your sternum and waist, until he has to kneel before you to get any further. He’s on his knees, all 6’4” of him bent to you as he places kisses across your belly while the heated water runs over his dirty blonde hair and down his back, rippling across the muscles in his shoulders as he holds your hips squeezed securely between his broad hands. 
“You’re perfect just the way ya are, baby,” he groans against your moist skin, letting his lips linger wherever he puts them. “Just like this: real, curves for fuckin’ days, so much skin I get drunk tryin’ to get at it all. And the best goddamn part is that it’s all mine.”
More kisses he places along all the areas you think unworthy of adoration, but that he finds absolutely exquisite. “Mine, all mine.”
His words devolve into incoherent babble as he nestles his face into your abdomen to leave burning trails of his desire with his lips that even the warm water cannot wash away from your skin. Your body writhes in his double-handed grasp as your head falls back to rest against the wall as every inch of tender flesh prickles with the overstimulating sensation of being doted upon. 
Lips keep trailing further downward from your stomach to the mound of your sex, through the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your pussy, before they sink into the bulk of your thick, stocky thighs.
“Ya think I get on my knees for any girl?” he asks from his place at the bottom of the shower as he stares up into your face with half-lidded eyes that darken the more he plays with you. “You’re the only one who can bring me to fuckin’ kneel, baby. You and your gorgeous body. I’m at it’s goddamn mercy.” 
Placing his hand on your calf, he nods and you know exactly what he wants: that juicy cunt smothering his features, your bulky thighs crush against his ears. Carefully he helps you to adjust your footing so that he can lift your leg. Propping it up on his own thigh, he sits back on his calves so that his face sits at the same level as your pussy and he leans in, smothering his face right between those dangerously thick pieces of flesh as you widen your stance with his guidance to make it easier. Hardened fingertips dig themselves into your body, forcing you even more firmly against his face until his nose is pressed into your clit and he moves his head back and forth to stimulate it with the tip. 
There is little oxygen to be had between the heat from the water and the heat between your legs, but it doesn’t matter. The sound of your soft, breathy gasps and moans as he penetrates your entrance with his tongue is enough to sustain him until he can come up to breathe. Lapping and thrusting, wriggling and applying pressure, if there is even a whisper of a negative thought left in your brain it is overshadowed completely now by the overwhelming euphoria of being devoured to the brink of insanity.
You buck wild and untamed, panting heavily as the warmth in your belly begins gathering quicker than you could have thought, the coil pulling tightly as minute by aching minute Simon draws your body to the edge of its release. He is relentless in his endeavor, putting your needs above anything else- even breathing. That tongue has moved up to your clit now and with weighty presses over the tiny bean you soon are spilling over the edge and he has to hold onto you tight so that you don’t slip and fall.
Simon stays locked to your pussy until the very last second, keeping his movements going even as you try to pry him off from the sensitivity that is almost too much to handle. It isn’t until you finally stop writhing that he emerges from between your legs with a smile that has your stomach doing somersaults as he wipes his mouth clean of your cum. 
“Second course,” he growls before you even have a chance to fully come down from your high.
Oh you have got him down bad tonight. 
He carefully flips you round to face the wall and uses his feet to make you spread your legs as wide as you can get them. A hefty hand runs itself over the curve of your ass, following the line down all the way to the underside before he grabs it in his hand and gives the meat a firm squeeze.
“Those little boys just don’t know how to handle this much woman; all these fuckin’ curves are too much pleasure for a bastard that don’t know the treasure he’s got. But I know what a fuckin’ feast ya are,” he groans as he aligns your hips and enters you from behind with a forceful grunt that reverberates off the enclosed space of the shower. 
You push palms flat against the wall to steady yourself. “They don’t know how ta treat ya right, how ta love a body that just keeps givin’ and givin’. But I don’t have that problem, sweetheart.”
Simon’s devout words are like liquid fire and as his cock stretches you wide, the euphoria of his talk runs through you to make you burn. Your body is his religion and goddamn does he always worship it right. All those cares, all that self-loathing and doubt entirely evaporate from your mind as he pushes your shoulders forward to make you arch your back so that he can pound into your pussy hard and deep from behind, making your plump ass bounce off his pelvis with a recoil that draws his gaze.
“Fuck,” he breathes, so obsessed with the way you look around him that he is trying to ingrain the image in his mind.  
His aching exclamation thrills you, making your heart skip a beat as his thrusts continue to rock through you. To be craved in such a way, to be thought of like the woman in the movie, that is what he is giving you now and it is euphoric. His intensity is orgasmic and your body responds in kind as he grabs you to move you closer.
“Don’t concern yourself with the bullshit ideas of some puny little boys when ya got a man who will always make sure you feel like a fuckin’ princess when you’re in his arms,” he says in a whisper at your ear as he pulls you back to leans against his chest. “Cause ya are, sweetheart. Your my fuckin’ goddess of a woman.”
The way he says it makes you ache all over and you can feel it twinge in your clit. “Say it again,” you beg, needing to hear him make those sweet combinations of sounds once more until your body vibrates with pleasure. 
His hand comes up to cup around your breast so that he can massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to mewl at the sensation. “You are so fuckin’ beautiful baby, so goddamn perfect just like this, and I love every last fuckin’ inch of ya. My princess.”
Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you full on all of his passion for your body. You will never be able to make everyone see you for the gorgeous being that you truly are, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Simon is more than enough to keep you feeling like the most beautiful girl in the whole world; you are safe with him.
Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as his arms that are filled with your waist clamp down tighter to secure you to him so that he can shove his cock even harder into your now dripping core. “Yes, yes,” you whimper out. 
“Come for me again,” he practically demands as he watches you falling apart once more. “Come on, pretty girl, one more for me. One more together.”
Your limbs are tingling with each snap of his hips against your ass. It’s close, right there, you can almost feel it again as the coil wounds itself tight once more in the pit of your stomach. You clench down on him, making him falter before recovering and continuing on. A few more pumps of him deep in your core and it is right there at the precipice.
“Let go for me,” he whispers into your ear as you clench once more around him and something about the way he says it sets you off. You come for the second time, the orgasm rocketing through you until you can feel it like fire shooting through your veins as you shake with the intensity of it all. 
Quickly he pulls out just in time as he too pops off and comes between your thighs as you clamp them together around his cock. The ejaculate runs down your legs as he milks every last bit out of the tip until his body hangs limp and his head falls down to rest the forehead against your shoulder. Still he holds you close, murmuring soft praises against your neck about how fucking amazing that was and how there is no one else that will ever look more beautiful all flushed and exhausted.
Holding onto you, Simon takes a few steps back forcing you to come along until you are both submerged under the showerhead to let that soothing water run over your bodies until you can both come back down from your high. There are no words yet, none that need to be said out loud, all he needs to do is keep you wrapped in his arms a little longer.
It’s quiet, just the sound of the water rushing filling the silent space for a while, until a noise breaks you both out of the moment. There is a banging on the door from the outside, repeated knocking loudly and clearly; you’ve been in here for too long, but Simon doesn’t seem to be bothered. There is no attempt to leave the steamy oasis yet and soon the sound subsides and you are both left in the silence once again. 
“They’ll just have to fuckin’ wait,” he says against the side of your head in a hushed whisper, lips tempting your earlobe. “They can consider it a punishment for making ya upset. Besides, I’m still busy and you’re not goin’ anywhere.”
3K notes · View notes
tootiecakes234 · 4 months
Text
Katsuki “asking” you to move in with him
You were almost back home when you got a call from your boyfriend. He didn’t even greet you when you answered.
“Where are you?”, he grunted into his phone.
“Well hello to you too handsome.”
“Yea, yea… where are you? I’m at your place to pick you up and ya ain’t here.”
“Heh… maybe if I knew you were coming over I would’ve been home. Why didn’t you text me and let me know. I don’t have any clothes packed or anything.”you informed him.
He does this all the time. Just comes over to your house and tells you that you’re coming back to his place with him. So very demanding.
“You have a dresser full of clothes in my room, your toothbrush and all your toiletries… what do ya need to pack?”
“Ya got me there. I’m almost there. I got stuff to drop off then we can leave.”
When you get through the door Katsuki is digging through your fridge.
“Why do you never have groceries in your house?” He questions you.
“Because I’m never here sir. They always go bad because I have a needy boyfriend that wants me at his house 25/8.”, the sarcasm drips out of your voice as you head to drop off the things you had bought.
“ Tch…. Needy. Please. You’re the one always complaining that we don’t spend enough time together.” He states.
“This is true.” You shrug your shoulders. “Anyways I’m ready. Let’s hit it.
“It’d be easier to spend time together if you just moved in with me” he mentions all causally as you guys head out to his car. You pause a little and look at him a little baffled.
You and Katsuki had been dating for about 8 months but you didn’t know he felt that seriously. Maybe he was just joking, so you shake it off and continue on like he didn’t say it.
The next thing you know you’re at his house getting ready for bed.
Kats comes to the bathroom and leans against the counter while you’re in the middle of doing your skincare.
“Do you wanna say something?” You ask because he’s just sitting there staring at you.
“Do you not wanna live with me cuz you could’ve just said that when I mentioned it earlier instead of fucking ignoring me.” He asked it harshly but you could hear the vulnerability in his voice. Like he didn’t want to bring it up but it was bugging him bad enough that he had to say something.
“I- uh…”
Apparently you were taking too long.
“Just forget it.” His eyes fell from yours and he started moving away towards his room. “Are we watching the next episode of that stupid show of yours? If not-“
“I didn’t think you were serious Kat.” And you reach your hand out to catch his arm before he can leave.
“I thought you were joking or something. Also it wasn’t a question so I didn’t know you were waiting on an answer babe.” There’s a small grin pulling at your lips when he looks at you again.
“Why the hell would I joke about that? And it was obviously a question…. So answer it dammit.”, his brows were furrowed and he was scowling a little.
Poor nervous boy.
You reach both of your arms up and wrap them around his neck. Then you lean in and press a kiss to his pouting lips.
“Katsuki Bakugo *kiss* I would absolutely *kiss* love *kiss* to move in with you *kiss*”
His arms have wrapped around you waist pulling you tighter to him.
“About damn time. I’ll have people come over to pack your shit tomorrow.” And this time he leans in to give his a deep kiss. His tongue reaching out to invade your mouth.
When he pulls back you’re all twinkle eyed and dopey in love. It takes a second for reality to catch up to you.
“Tomorrow?? Kats I have a lease and I don’t want movers breaking and throwing my things around. I’m gonna need at least a week or two. And I’m gonna have to pay-“
“I’ll pay for the lease break and you have til this weekend. If ya don’t want movers I’ll get our shitty friends to come over and help. Ain’t waiting no two weeks.”
“This weekend? It’s Wednesday. That only gives me 2 days!” You reason.
“Yea and I don’t wanna give you that so count your blessings princess. And I’m done arguing about this.” He sweeps you up bridal style and carries you to bed. Then He dumps you down onto it.
“Now how about we start christening your new place,” he says while hovering over you with a sexy smirk playing at his lips.
Hmmmm….. and just like that you forgot why it was you weren’t moving in tomorrow. He could be so very convincing when he wanted to be.
Katsuki Masterlist
4K notes · View notes
jyoongim · 21 days
Note
Alastor who’s pretty little wife no one knows about shows up to the hotel with his lunch for something that her and Rosie took so long to prepare. She’s a bit taller than Alastor and completely mothers him it seems- idk just thought it was cute
Charlie beamed as she opened the door, but her eyes widened “ Woah! O-Oh hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! Are you looking to be redeemed from your sins?”
You tilted your head in confusion.
”No. I’m here to drop off Alastor’s lunch”
Now the Princess gave you a confused look.
You were here for Alastor?
”May I come in dear?” She widened the door to let you in and ushered you into the hotel lobby.
Your husband had said he had a new venture he was invested in. What a lovely hotel.
The Princess showed you around a bit and talked about the purpose of the hotel.
”And this is our enthusiastic bartender” she gestured to the bar
Husker’s eyes widened when he saw you before he tilted his hat at you “Madam”
You smiled “Husker! I didn’t know you were here. Alastor ain’t workin you to the bone is he?”
Charlie looked between you “you two know each other?”
You let out laugh, waving your hand dismissively “oooh we go way back” you took a seat on a sofa.
You chatted with Husker and waved as Niffty greeted you before she ran after a bug.
”Woah who’s the glass of water?” A flirty voice said,making you turn and see a tall spider stroll into the room.
Everyone was curious about the tall demoness.
You checked the clock “Not to be rude but is Alastor here?”
That made several faces gawk.
Why were you looking for the Overlord?
”I heard senseless chatter do we have a guest?” A radio-filtered voice floated into the room.
Alastor eyes flitted over the room and they landed on you, his usual smile stretched wide across his face
”Dearest! What do I owe the pleasure? You should have gave me a rang” You grinned as you stood and approached the demon.
Everyone watched in disbelief as the tall woman towered over the Overlord and snatched him in a hug, squeezing him in her arms.
”Alastor!” You squealed, nuzzling the demon who just had a loving look on his face.
You set him down and finally a scowl graced your face, you pointed your finger at your husband, disapprovingly.
”You left so fast I didn’t get a chance you give you these”
You pulled a container from your bag.
Alastor hummed as he opened it, ears flicking happily at the meat sandwiches. You beamed proudly “Me and Rosie spent all day on those and you didn’t even get a chance to taste them. I made sure to drizzle extra blood on yours dear”
”I will never understand how I was lucky to have you dear” he said, dipping his finger in the sauce and tasting it.
”A token of appreciation would be nice” you chirped, leaning down towards the demon, turning your cheek.
Alastor pressed a kiss to your cheek.
Yeah everyone was flabbergasted.
Charlie cleared her throat, looking between the two of you “h-how do you two know each other?” She asked nervously.
You blinked in confusion, before you smiled “I’m his wife of course”
WHAT??!!!
You ignored their stares and turned back to your husband, looking him over.
Your clawed hands grasped his face, turning it, examining him. Your brows frowned “You’re looking thin baby. And pale. Dont overwork yourself and for the love of the all that’s damned please take a rest when you need it. No broadcasting all night. I know you, you’ll be cranky and tormenting souls because you’re tired. Oh! I have tea for your throat too” you happily pulled out tea packs and tucking them in his pockets.
Alastor just let you fret, loving the attention.
Once you finished being a  worrywart, you gave him one last hug.
”well i ought to get going. I promised Rosie I wouldnt be long. I just wanted to drop your lunch off.”
You pressed a kiss to his forehead, waved to everyone, and let Alastor walk you out.
Alastor sighed lovingly as you disappeared in a mist of shadow, once you were gone he went back inside the hotel, where everyone was still gawking
His eyes narrowed “what is it?”
Angel was the first, along with Charlie to literally combust with questions
”You have a wife!?”
”Why don’t you every bring her here?”
”Can’t believe you actually fuck”
”she seems so lovely”
”how the hell or really why the hell she marry you?”
”You should invite her over more!”
”How do you two fuck?”
Alastor’s eye twitch and he turned around to walk out as he carried the lunch you brought with him, ignoring the two.
Angel turned to Husker and smirked “They have kinky sex don’t they?”
Husk flicked him off with a eye roll
”Ill take that as a yes”
2K notes · View notes
freelancearsonist · 15 days
Text
make a move on me
Tumblr media
➔ pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader - 5.5k
➔ You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodeling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.
➔ Rated MA for baby’s first anal fic protected p in a and anal fingering (r receiving), age gap (reader is early 20’s, joel is 36), m masturbation/pillowhumping, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, gentle-turned-rough sex, pet names (baby, darling, honey, good girl, baby girl, little lady), slight degradation and condescension but only in a sexy way, one use of “slut”, pussy pronouns, one (1) pussy slap, gratuitous dickscription, heavy dom/sub dynamics i mean seriously these power dynamics are out of control, tommy is a little bit of a shit (affectionate) [pls let me know if i missed anything at all :)]
➔ This reader insert character: has female anatomy and uses feminine pronouns, no name/no use of y/n, is generally able-bodied, fits in joel’s shirt and is implied to be shorter/smaller than him, is on summer break from college but no major/year is mentioned.
Tumblr media
Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. Keep his hands to himself and his mind on the job. Don’t fret over the pretty little thing who’s been draping herself all over the house ever since he started demo, practically begging to be fucked.
If he had any sense, he would pack his shit and drop the job–or, at the very least, tell your parents to put you on a leash. But there’s a little part of him that might be a glutton for punishment–that savors the teasing.
The most infuriating part of the whole thing is that he can’t blame you for this whole mess. He shouldn’t be so quick to temptation. You should be able to walk around your own home in whatever you want and not have to worry about the creepy contractor getting flustered every time he looks in your general direction.
But god, you make it hard–double entendre intended. You walk around like you haven’t a care in the world because you don’t; you’re home for summer break after a grueling year at college, and you intend to savor every languid second of it. Your preferred method of savoring just happens to be wearing tight little bikinis that barely hold anything in place as you lounge out by the pool in the Texas heat, or tight leggings that hug your ass so perfectly it almost makes him jealous of the material as you curl up with a book on your couch.
Joel’s a grown man. He can keep it in his pants, no matter how badly he wants you. But you’re not exactly making it easy on him.
Really, it’s Tommy’s fault when the levee breaks. If he could keep his big mouth shut, Joel might’ve been able to maintain the thin control he had over himself. But Tommy goes and makes an off-handed comment about you one night, and that’s the beginning of the downward spiral.
The brothers are both lounging on Joel’s couch after a particularly taxing day of demolition work, beers cradled in hands and the TV droning uselessly with some movie that they’re more staring at than actually watching. It’s late, yet weary muscles are melted so comfortably into the couch that neither of them try to move even after Sarah’s gone off to bed.
Tommy’s eyes flicker over to Joel, then back to the TV. “That girl’s gon’ be trouble for us, brother.”
There’s a question mark in the grunt Joel emits, leaning forward with interest because he knows Tommy’s talking about you without any specification.
Tommy hums in confirmation and takes a sip of his Corona. “She’s always wearin’ those skimpy little outfits a’hers, and she ain’t coy. Must catch that pretty little thing starin’ at your ass even more than I catch you starin’ at hers.”
Joel plays it off as best as he can until Tommy goes home for the night with a half-assed promise to actually be on time in the morning for once. Then he goes up to his room, locks the door, and wraps himself around the spare pillow that lays against his headboard.
He tries so desperately hard not to think about the plump round curve of your ass, or the enticing way you lick your lips, or those damned little bikinis you favor. He grinds his aching cock into the soft pillowcase and tries to think about anything that isn’t you.
But he comes with a muffled growl of your name anyway, face pushed deep into the pillow and hips jerking arrhythmically.
There’s not much he can do now besides clean himself up and try not to think about how thoroughly fucked he is.
The next day is torture because he can feel your gaze lingering. He catches you checking him out on more than one occasion, and you’re brazen about it now. You can tell something has shifted, so you shift with it. Where you once would’ve flushed with heat and hurried away to your room, you now meet his heated eye contact and hold it.
Joel’s jaw hurts that night from the way it’s been hard-set and clenched all day long. He rubs over his sore temporomandibular joints with his long, thick fingers and wills himself to siphon you out from beneath his skin.
It doesn’t work.
The work helps. Laying tile is something he normally considers tedious, but it’s a welcome reprieve in your home because he can get down on his hands and knees and focus on something that isn’t you.
You see the labor he’s going through, and you appreciate it. And really, what kind of host would you be if you didn’t reward his efforts?
It starts with a pitcher of iced tea. It’s made just the way Joel likes it, with light ice and a few slices of lemon. He doesn’t know how you could possibly guess that, but it makes him want you that much more.
And then it’s cookies. Pain-stakingly handmade oatmeal raisin cookies, to be exact. You’re like something out of his most shameful domestic dreams in your cute floral-patterned apron and oven mitts as you pull the tray of cookies out of the oven, and an image of you in nothing but those mitts and that apron flickers through his mind before he can stop it.
All the while you traipse around the house like a mirage–humming along to the yacht rock that drifts from Joel’s stereo, swaying your hips in the kitchen as you put together the most delicious bologna sandwich Joel’s ever eaten, toweling off your soaking wet body after an afternoon in the pool. You’re the worst temptation Joel’s ever had to face.
It becomes his mantra. Be respectful, be respectful, be respectful.
But there’s no respect in your eyes. There’s nothing honorable about the way you bite your lip and smirk when he catches your gaze lingering on him.
Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. But why should he have to play nice if you don’t?
And really, the whole thing is Tommy’s fault. He started it with that first comment about you, and then he goes and calls out sick (read: horribly hungover) this morning. He leaves Joel all alone with you–gives you the perfect opening to pounce.
Or, more accurately, entice Joel into pouncing on you.
He’s just setting his tool bag down, about to decide where he wants to start today, when your beautiful face pops in through the door.
“Good morning, Joel,” you say with that gorgeous smile of yours that makes his knees go a little weak. “No Tommy today?”
He nearly chokes on his own tongue when you step further into the room wearing a plaid button-up he left here earlier in the week and booty shorts so small he has to do a doubletake to make sure you’re actually wearing anything on your lower half. You look fucking good in his shirt, and suddenly all he can think about is pulling you in and bending you over the half-finished vanity–
“N-no. He’s sick,” Joel manages to choke out. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then, “that’s my shirt, isn’t it?”
You look down and rub the time-worn fabric between your fingers like you have to think about it, like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.
“Oh, it must’ve gotten mixed in with our laundry!” The little giggle you let out is so innocent that he almost believes you. Almost. “Here–”
You start to lift the fabric up your torso in the most tantalizingly slow fashion, and he just sits there and watches it happen. He sees the first peek of skin above the waistband of your shorts, and then your beautiful stomach, then the delicious curve of a breast–
He quickly jolts out a hand to stop you in the midst of mentally willing every single molecule in his dick to control itself. “S’alright, darlin’. You keep it. Looks better on you, anyway.”
“Okay,” you acquiesce and let the fabric drop back down into its rightful place. “Can I get you anything? Water maybe?”
He certainly could use it. His neck and face are flushed red, and there’s sweat starting to form at his temples despite the relatively cool temperature within the house.
He realizes, with startling clarity, that he’s at a precipice right now. This might be the only chance he gets to really do something about this burgeoning tension that’s spread thicker than butter between you and him. He’s got a choice to make, and it’s not going to be an easy choice.
“Sure.” It comes out a bit too high-pitched, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Sure, sweetheart. That’d be great.”
“Alright,” you say with that damned giggle again. “I’ll be right back.”
As soon as you leave the room, Joel feels like he can breathe again. It’s so much easier to think straight when you’re not standing there, smiling up at him and looking so damn gorgeous.
He’s got two options, when it boils down to it: fuck you or leave you alone. And he really, really wants to take you. Make you scream his name while he pounds himself into you, fill you so full that you never completely wash him out. And you want it too, he knows you do, you’re practically begging for it.
But he promised himself he would be respectful. That he would keep his hands away from the girl that’s definitely too young and too pure for someone like him–because he knows that if has you, he’ll never be able to get enough.
There’s a very clear and obvious loophole that comes to mind now; a way he could have you without ruining you, a way you could both come out of this satisfied yet mostly intact. Joel’s never been opposed to doing the hard jobs, after all.
He’s got a condom in his wallet and KY jelly in his bag–mostly used for plumbing fittings, but it’ll do the job for this kind of pipework, too.
You come back with a glass of ice water, and his resolve slips. How the hell is he supposed to initiate this? What if you say no and think he’s disgusting? What if you tell your parents? He can’t do this, this was such a horrible idea, he–
Your touch on his back is like a gentle breeze, just a flutter of your fingers to alert him to your return. He flinches a bit at the sudden contact, but when he turns you’re still so achingly close. He can smell the agonizingly sweet aroma of your conditioner and the lotion you slather on your body after showering, and all he wants is more. He wants to wrap you around him, to inhale that scent straight from the source. His resolve is back, just like that.
He doesn’t give himself another opportunity to hesitate. He places one big, meaty palm on your cheek and wraps the other around your hand that holds the glass of ice water to steady you; and then he kisses you with such bruising force it almost knocks the wind out of you.
You moan. You actually moan the second his lips meet yours, and he knows just like that–with a startling moment of clarity–that this isn’t going to be enough. He’s going to take, and take, and take–gorge himself on you until you have nothing left to give. And the strangest thing of the whole matter is that he thinks you’ll actually enjoy his greed.
“Joel–”
“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs as his lips break away from yours–so low and soft in your ear it can’t be anything but a growl. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop right now.”
“I want it,” you affirm.
He searches your eyes, but he finds only earnest honesty and lust. That darkness, that pure and unadulterated want is enough to make his pants tighten. “Fuck.” 
He’s so big underneath your roaming hands as he crowds you back against the long bathroom vanity. He lifts you like you’re nothing and sets you on the counter top; he slots himself between your legs and there’s an actual stretch in your muscles to accommodate the width of his hips. One of his wide palms slips behind your head and his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging a little bit to angle your head just the way he wants it. It’s messy and frenzied and desperate–your hands gliding over tee shirt-covered muscle, his tugging your (his) shirt up over your stomach.
“Was starting to think you weren’t interested.” Your voice is heavy and breathy as he breaks away to tug the shirt over your head, casting it aside to lie forgotten on the floor.
“I’ve been tryna convince myself m’not,” he kisses into your neck. “Didn’t work.”
With a sudden roll of his hips, he has you gasping into his neck. He can’t be more than half-hard, but that bulge is formidable. Thick and straining and… suddenly you can’t focus on anything except getting him out of those tight jeans to see what you’re working with.
Your hand just barely fits around him. He’s thick and flushed, getting harder with each passing second as he scatters feather-light kisses over your neck and shoulders. He muffles a groan into your neck as you slowly pump his length–you think he’s seven, maybe eight inches at best guess. The tip of him is flushed red once you get his uncut skin out of the way, and it makes your mouth water. There’s a slight upward curve to him and a long, prominent vein that runs down the left side. It’s porn star material–you didn’t know real people had dicks like this.
“Joel… Jesus, that’s gonna be a tight fit.”
“Oh, don’t worry darlin’,” he hums, thumb ghosting over your clit in a way that makes your entire body jolt. “It ain’t goin’ in there.”
There’s nothing but pure excitement in your voice, despite the anxious gulp that tracks down your throat. “Where…”
“Flip over f’me.”
You follow his instruction with a sort of morbid curiosity, hopping down from the counter before folding yourself over it.
You can feel his eyes on you, as he takes in your willingness. It’s like you’re on display for him, for his appraisal. You’ve still got shorts and a bra on, yet you’ve never felt more exposed.
It’s almost like he can sense your mind swirling–maybe it’s because his is prone to do the same. He sets a gentle hand on your back and smooths it down your spine as he crowds up against you–you can feel the press of his exposed cock against the curve of your ass, and it makes you shiver.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs as he folds over you, caging you in with the delicious weight of his body. His lips trace along the curve of your jaw and down your neck as he speaks. “But I made myself this little promise that I wouldn’t fuck you. You got me actin’ so unprofessional, honey.”
You whine at the sincerity in his voice–all you’ve wanted since the day he started was for him to have you folded over and at his mercy like this. 
“You can fuck me,” you whine earnestly. “It’s okay, I promise. Won’t tell.”
“Mmm, I know. You’re too good a girl to go gettin’ me in trouble over somethin’ like this,” he hums–you can hear the condescension in his voice even as he praises you, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “But with all the teasin’ you been doin’... don’t rightly know that you deserve to be fucked.”
“Please–”
“However,” he continues, landing a light smack to your ass in retaliation for your interruption, “might be willin’ to take you anyway, with some conditions. Out of the goodness of my heart.”
He pauses to let you ask, “What conditions?”
And then he pauses again, asking his own question this time. Is he really going to go through with this? But he’s spent the better part of two weeks staring at your ass, and you’ve spent the better part of two weeks putting it on display for him. It’s like you’ve been silently asking him all this time to take it.
His hand slides down from where it rests on your spine, over your tailbone to where he’s been thinking about all this time. He feels the way your muscles tense up even through your shorts, and it sends a thrill he can’t describe coursing through his veins.
“You ever taken someone here before?”
“N-no.” He feels it again as his other hand comes to soothingly rub your hip–that excited-yet-nervous flutter of muscle. You haven’t run away screaming yet, and that’s the biggest motivator he could have to keep going.
“I think you ought to let me. As a thank you, for puttin’ up with all your play,” he growls into your ear.
It’s fucking dirty, the idea of letting a man you hardly know take you in such a taboo way. It’s even dirtier how fucking excited the idea has you.
“You say no right now and I’ll drop it,” he murmurs so sweetly. “Don’t ever have to talk about this again.”
You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished talking–a sly smirk spreading over your lips as you grind back against him hard enough to make him choke on a moan.
“It’s only right,” you affirm. “Gotta make it up to you for how naughty I’ve been.’
His eyes flash dangerously as he grinds his cock against you again, smearing precome against the flimsy fabric of your shorts. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”
He has your bottoms and panties down around your ankles in a flash, and he actually groans at the sight of your sticky cunt all puffy and wet and on display for him.
He can’t resist the urge to swipe a finger through your folds, delighting in the string of shiny arousal that connects his finger to your core when he pulls away. “She wants it so bad, hmm? Such a shame she ain’t gettin’ any.”
It tugs a moan from your throat, especially when he drags as much slick as he can up to circle your tightest hole. He feels the way you flutter with apprehension, and he leans back down to kiss the corner of your jaw.
“Gonna get you nice and ready, I promise. M’not gonna hurt you, baby girl.”
“Thank you, da–” You almost lost yourself there for a second–almost laid your whole hand of cards out on the table for him to see. You try not to get flustered over the slip–you simply clear your throat and try again. “Thank you, Joel.” But you aren’t nearly as smooth as you hope to be.
In a flash Joel’s free hand is lifting your head, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. They’re so much darker than normal, and it only serves to make you wetter.
“What’d you call me?”
“J-Joel.”
His hand slips down to your throat and gives it a warning squeeze–his jaw is set, you know he isn’t playing. “Try again, and tell the truth this time.”
“D… daddy.”
You try to hide your face, to cower in shame, but he won’t let you. He smashes his lips to yours at the exact second his first finger probes that tight, waiting entrance.
“Good girl,” he murmurs as he slowly breaches you, using your own slick to guide the way. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”
You can’t do anything but gasp, hands clutching for dear life to the edge of the counter. This feels different, and not in the way you were expecting it to. It’s tight, sure, and it feels foreign, but it also feels so much better than you ever could’ve expected it to. The subtle stretch around his thick finger is addicting.
Joel’s jaw drops at the expression on your face; you already look so thoroughly fucked-out, and he’s barely even started. “Fuck.You like this, hmm? Like feelin’ daddy’s fingers gettin’ you ready for his big cock?”
The only response he gets is a wrecked little whimper, and he props your chin up again to meet his heated gaze. “Talk to me. Gotta talk to me, tell me how you’re feelin’, or I’m gonna stop.”
“Fuck!” It’s shriller than you want it to be and you would feel pathetic if you weren’t so thoroughly overwhelmed with this new sensation. “Don’t stop daddy!”
“Feels good, yeah? How long has daddy’s little slut wanted to try this?”
But there’s no way you can be expected to answer, not when he’s adding another finger to the onslaught. Not when your legs are already shaking and you’re thinking about just how many fingers he’s going to have to use to get you ready for the massive cock you can feel throbbing against your thigh.
He retracts just as suddenly as he started, and a needy little whine escapes from your throat involuntarily.
He can’t help chuckling as he reaches for the bottle of KY jelly he’d dug out of his bag while you were getting him water. It feels like it’s been years since you left the room on that little errand for him–definitely not the barely ten minutes it’s actually been.
“Relax, baby girl. I’m comin’ right back.”
You feel the cool drizzle of the water-based substance over your hole and it forces another whine from your throat. It’s met with his thick fingers again, spreading the jelly over your hole before plunging two in knuckle-deep.
“Atta girl.” His voice is thick and sweet as honey as he slowly works his fingers, thrusting and scissoring at an achingly slow pace. “Doin’ so good f’me.”
“Daddy–”
“I know,” he coos. “I know, it’s so much, isn’it?”
All you can manage to do is nod your head, arms shaking under the strain of holding yourself upright. He sees the way your limbs tremble and he adds a third finger just to be extra cruel–although he steadies you by grabbing your hip firmly with his free hand, keeping you in place as he fucks you open with his fingers.
Everything is so hot. There’s a sticky sheen of sweat covering your forehead and your chest; you can feel your own slick dripping down your thighs.
And then his free hand drops down to thumb at your clit, and everything twists in your gut so fast it nearly gives you whiplash.
Within seconds you’re coming–no pretense, no warning. It explodes white-hot from your belly and sweeps through you to the tips of your fingers and toes with flash flood speed. One second there’s nothing more than pleasant anticipation–the next, you’re shaking and convulsing and sobbing Joel’s name as you fight with every cell in your body to remain upright.
He does his part to work you through it, thumb swiping even circles on your sensitive clit, pulling his fingers from you to pin you in place on the counter so he can continue working you through it.
“I know, I know,” he coos so sweetly in your ear over the sound of your moans and cries. “You’re doin’ so good baby, let yourself have it.”
It’s minutes before you’re breathing normally again–your legs are cramping from trying so desperately to support your shaky weight. Joel’s hands are soothing you the whole time once he lets up the onslaught on your clit; it’s like he’s mapping you, tracing over every dip and curve so tenderly you could almost forget what this encounter really is.
“Doin’ okay?” He husks into your ear–and then he’s folding himself over you again, and you can feel the insistent press of his hard cock against the curve of your ass.
For some reason, that’s what really makes it sink in. That’s the moment you realize that this is actually going to happen–that you want it to happen. Joel’s about to take something from you that no one has ever taken before, and you want him to. You’re offering it willingly, even.
You hum in response and buck your hips back, giving him a delicious taste of friction that pulls a ground from his throat. “Mhm. I’m ready, daddy.”
“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He gives your hip a light pat before pulling away for a moment, and you somehow have the presence of mind to jump up on the deep countertop because you know your legs won’t be able to support you through what’s about to happen.
There’s a smile on his handsome face when he turns back towards you, lube and condom in hand. “That how you want it, baby?”
Despite everything that’s already happened, you feel so much more exposed like this. You’re completely naked, and he’s fully clothed with his pants shoved down just enough to free his dick. Even as you spread your legs to admit him between your thighs, you feel shy. And he senses it, the slight apprehension in your gaze, because his smile softens even further; he sets the lube and condom down on the counter next to you so he can grasp the collar of his worn t-shirt and tug it up over his head.
He’s beautiful for a nearly forty-year-old man, you think. He’s firm and toned, but there’s a softness about him that you can’t help admiring, especially around his belly. Your eyes eagerly lap up the soft curve of his tummy, following the tantalizing promise of his treasure trail to his cock, hard and aching for you. The ruddy, flushed tip is weeping for you; you don’t know that you’ve ever seen someone so turned on before, and it’s a heady rush of power.
He chuckles as he sees your hungry eyes taking him in–he raises one big hand to cup your chin and pull your gaze up to meet his. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so good spread out f’me like this. You sure you’re ready f’this?”
“Fuck yes,” you say with an alluring little wiggle of your hips, and that’s more than enough for him.
He pulls his bottom lip between even rows of shiny white teeth as he rolls the condom down over his length, and it’s actually intimidating like this. He’s so big and imposing and it makes your legs want to close, but–
“M’gonna go slow, okay?” He vows, voice gentle as his big, brown eyes look into yours. His fingers wrap tightly around the half-used tube of KY jelly, and he leans down to kiss you when he sees the nervous gulp that bobs your throat. “Gonna be real gentle, I promise. You tap out at any time and we’re done, ‘kay?”
“Okay,” you affirm, and you feel a lot better. As out of the blue as this is, as little as you really know Joel, you can tell he’s being sincere. You trust him; you know he won’t hurt you.
The first press of his aching tip against your hole is enough to make you choke on a gasp. He’s big, and even with all of his attentive prep work to get you ready for him it’s a tight fit. You can tell it’s affecting him, too. His eyes flutter shut and he bites down hard on his bottom lip, and you can tell that he’s fighting with all his strength not to just shove himself deep inside you. You appreciate his restraint more than words can convey, so you don’t even try; you hook your arms around his neck and pull him in for a deep, messy, desperate kiss instead. His tongue licks eagerly into your mouth as he eases his hips further and further towards yours, and it’s a nice distraction from the nearly overwhelming stretch of your muscle trying to accommodate his girth.
He shudders when his hips finally meet yours, cock stuffed to the hilt into your ass. “God damn baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You doin’ okay?”
You whine at the first roll of his hips, nodding your head rapidly because words won’t come. It’s such a foreign sensation, being stretched and breached like this. Not unpleasant necessarily, but so brain-scramblingly different that all you can do is dig your nails into his strong, broad shoulders and hold on for dear life as he actually starts to fuck into you.
It’s nasty, and you’ve never been so wet in your life. You hear the sticky squelch of lube as he thrusts his hips, shoving his cock deeper than you imagined possible. Your own wetness seeps from your neglected cunt and drenches him, dripping down around his cock and wetting the dense curls at the apex of his sex.
“Shit baby, you’re takin’ daddy’s cock so well,” he whines breathlessly; one arm hooks under your knee so he can spread you open a bit wider for him, and then the other hand returns to your puffy, arousal swollen clit.
You make what has to be the most high-pitched sound you’ve ever made as his index and middle fingers start a torturously slow pace on the little bud. “Fuck daddy!”
“I know,” he coos–you think that soft, breathy, Southern twang is going to actually put you in your grave. “I know, you wanna come, dontcha? It’s okay baby, daddy’s gonna make you come all over his cock just the way you need.”
His hips pick up the pace in time with his fingers, and all you can do is lay there limply like a ragdoll. The pleasure is so much different than what you’re used to, but it’s good. It’s amazing, the feeling of him balls deep in your guts in tandem with his ministrations on your clit, in a way you never imagined it could be.
“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me,” he growls, hitching your leg a bit higher over his hip so he can thrust even deeper. “Fuck, m’not gonna last long like this. You’re gonna make daddy come so hard in this tight little ass.”
His words are accentuated with a little smack to the side of your ass, and it makes you moan louder still. Your head rolls back as he picks up the pace of his fingers, swirling hard and messy circles with reckless abandon. He’s not trying to prolong it anymore–he’s going for the kill.
“Fuck daddy!” Your hands scrabble for purchase on his smooth, freckled skin as he pounds harder into you. “W-want it, please, want you to come in my ass–”
“Gonna give it to you, impatient girl,” he growls deep in his chest. “You gimme one first.”
Your entire body jolts when he brings his hand down on your sensitive cunt before groaning at the way your arousal sticks to his hand and makes his fingers shine.
“She wants t’be stuffed so full, doesn’t she?” He purrs, fingers dancing so fucking teasingly around your fluttering cunt that it makes your eyes water. “Bet she’d love to be chock full’a cock right now.”
“Joel–”
“Now, now, baby, no whinin’. It’s unbecomin’ for such a sweet little lady,” he grunts, and the condescension dripping from his tone is almost enough to make you come on its own. “You’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful for it, aintcha?”
“Yesyesyesplease–”
His fingers have barely returned to your clit before you’re coming again. This one is even more powerful than before–a hurricane instead of a flash flood. Your entire body trembles with the ebbing flow of pleasurable waves–the words you’re panting aren’t even discernible English anymore.
The way you clench and flutter around him in your own pleasure pulls him over the edge faster than anything ever has before. He comes hard, chest clenching hard around his breath, cock twitching more violently than anything you’ve ever felt before as he spills his load into the condom.
It’s a long, breathless moment before he pulls himself from the vice-like grip you have around his dick. He pulls out with a deep, long groan–it makes you giggle, because it’s the most over-dramatic sound you’ve ever heard in your life.
There’s a beat, and then he starts laughing, too. At the sweet sound of your laugh, at the way he feels like he just ran a marathon, at the absolute absurdity of this whole thing. His laughter is so sweet and gut-deep and infectious, and it only serves to make you laugh harder. For a good few moments it’s just you and Joel, half naked, panting and sweaty, doubled over in laughter.
And then the bathroom door swings open and Tommy barges in. 
“I’m feelin’ a helluva lot better after sleepin’ in, what’s so funny–” He stops dead in his tracks; he sees you naked and spread out on the counter and Joel disheveled and sweating. Neither of you are laughing very much anymore as you both scramble to cover yourselves up.
Tommy quirks a brow, a smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Joel. “Well, well, well. What have we here?”
You don’t know how to answer when you’re so mortified, so you do the only thing you can think of–you dart out of the room and down the hall to the safety of your bedroom as fast as your shaky legs can carry you.
Tumblr media
➔ beta: @fhatbhabie dividers: @saradika-graphics
➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!
➔ Want to support me? Please reblog this fic! It helps boost it in the algorithm and gives it more circulation no matter what your follower count is :) any feedback or comment is always greatly appreciated!!
2K notes · View notes
pray4byron · 3 months
Text
What the…
HAZBIN HOTEL CAST are like as …
PARTNERS !! (and before that!)
Includes: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Alastor, Sir Pentious, Husker, Niffty, Lucifer Morningstar, Adam, Lute
Warnings: Swearing, S1 spoilers, sexual references, mentions of abuse, mentions of Valentino, messy, barely proofread
Also side note, if this is highly enjoyed, I will do a Part 2 with more characters!
Tumblr media
Charlie Morningstar
Crush!Charlie is a bit obvious. Not TOO obvious, but maybe if you squint hard enough…
Crush!Charlie has a tendency to show extra attention to you, especially if you’re a resident at the Hotel who’s trying to go up to Heaven.
Example: You’re the first person she asks if they need help, invite for a group activity, etc
Despite the fact that Crush!Charlie is really eager to confess her feelings, she truly does find value in getting to know you as a friend first.
She believes that it has its perks, which it does.
Crush!Charlie enjoys getting to know your hobbies, interests, past, strengths, all of it.
But as you are going off on your usual yap sesh about your face topic …
Crush!Charlie can’t help but peck you on the cheek, you’re cheeks just look so squishy and cute!
You’re stunned… You would’ve never thought that.. Charlie? Likes you? Pffff… Ain’t no way!
Crush!Charlie scrambles to explain to you her genuine feelings, and how she’s wanted to be with you for a long time, and scrambles again to ask you if you feel the same.
Now it’s your turn to shut someone up with a kiss.
You give her a drawn out peck on the lips, not too short, but not too long. Just enough to satisfy.
And yes, you do feel the same.
Now GF!Charlie is totally stoked! But she’s also a bit scared of the shoes she has to fill.
GF!Charlie decides to give you a little candy bouquet (that she made!)! Honestly it’s the cutest frickin thing, it has little chocolates and lollipops like AAA get me a Charlie!
GF!Charlie decides to introduce you to her dad, sure you guys have crossed paths a few times, but like, formally this time.
At first Lucifer is intimidated by you (not that he’d admit that), similar to the rivalry he had with Alastor.
But after awhile, he warms up to you, at the end of the day he loves his daughter, and he sees that you do to. So long as you treat Charlie good and you like rubber ducks, he’s chill with you :)
GF!Charlie’s love language is gift giving and physical touch!
On one hand, she loves giving gifts, it’s very soothing for her to go out and find something to give you, or coming up with an idea to make something for you, it takes her mind off of things
But at the other end of the scale, she loves receiving physical touch, she kinda freezes when she does because it’s so much to her but at the same time she enjoys it dearly! Even something as simple as rubbing her hand with your thumb while handling hands, long hugs, or hand kisses send her into a spiral haha
At the end of the day, GF!Charlie loves you a ton and honestly is just happy to be there loving you lol
Tumblr media
Vaggie
When Crush!Vaggie realizes she has a crush on you, it’s a bit of an ‘Oh Shit’ moment, y’know?
Due to her secret, and the fact that she has a bit of trust issues, they just don’t go hand-in-hand with love.
Crush!Vaggie is a bit dependent on you to make the first move, but that doesn’t mean she won’t, but she needs you to throw a few jabs first.
The more her crush on you stays and the more she doesn’t do about it, the more it starts to bug her
Crush!Vaggie decides one day she doesn’t know how much more of the subtle flirting and eye contact from across the room she can take, cause deep down, she has a gut feeling you like her too.
So, Crush!Vaggie decides she’s going to confess.
When it comes down to it, obviously you feel the same, and she really wants to make an impact right away!
Now GF!Vaggie decides to plan a little surprise for you, a date!
GF!Vaggie decides to just take you out to the back of the hotel and you two lay down and look at the night sky (as I’m not sure if there’s stars in Hell tbh.)
You two sit there and talk, it gets vulnerable for a bit, slowly but surely starting to break down eachothers walls… But not for too long before one of you is like “NOPE, too much emotions for one day!” haha
At the end of the day, GF!Vaggie, isn’t perfect at this whole girlfriend thing, but for you? She’ll sure as hell try.
Tumblr media
Angel Dust
Like Vaggie, Crush!Angel is tempted to “NOPE” out, after falling into Val’s trap, he’s hesitant to try again.
But soon enough Charlie shows him that opening up got her an amazing girlfriend, so he decides, hey, might as well right?
Crush!Angel goes out of his way to obnoxiously flirt with you, but you thought this was normal behavior, as he does it with basically everyone at the hotel.
Crush!Angel thinks it’ll take time, but you’ll catch on, and well… not exactly…
One day, Crush!Angel comes back from a long shoot, and he pulls a good, classic flirt on you, and poof! Right over your head!
And he doesn’t know what got in him, maybe the alcohol, maybe Valentino, maybe the buildup stress, who’s knows, but he snaps…
Crush!Angel proceeds to go off about how he’s always flirting with you and how he just doesn’t get how you’re so blind that you just can’t see it!?
And you start to laugh, which at first makes him more mad.
“Well how was I supposed to know if you flirt with everyone here? I thought it was normal!”
And with that, you walk away, leaving him bamboozled.
The night goes on as normal, you head up to your hotel room, and just as you’re about to turn lights out you hear a knock on your door and a voice from the outside.
“So do you wanna fuck me too, or no?”
The next day, you and Crush!Angel have a talk over a drink or two, and decide, not only do you two wanna fuck, you also want to date!
Now BF!Angel is a bit nervous, but don’t fret! He has that feeling in his stomach that makes him want to grin like he’s never grinned before.
BF!Angel’s love languages are quality time and words of affirmations, considering all that Val can do to him in a day, he doesn’t love being touched without consent, but that doesn’t mean touch is off limits by any means! Just ask and he’ll give it to you!
And for quality time, you and BF!Angel don’t really go out for dates, considering how fans (and Val) are, also considering the fact that he just wants a break from life.
Instead, you two usually just spend time in eachothers hotel rooms, binge shows, give eachother makeovers, play dress up, just being the kids you never got the opportunity to be.
And once he sees that Fat Nuggets likes you, he knows you’re the one.
Tumblr media
Alastor
When Crush!Alastor first realizes he has feelings for you, he makes a mental note and goes on with his day.
He doesn’t really understand the point in fussing about it like most do, but then again, he’s not most people.
Crush!Alastor does thoroughly enjoy spending time with you though, he likes to just sorta keep you around.
He sticks up for you, if somebody gives you a problem, it will be handled, even if it’s a bit sadistic, he will do it everytime.
Crush!Alastor doesn’t feel the need to confess directly, but if you ask him how he feels about it, he won’t deny his feelings towards you!
So whenever Crush!Alastor becomes BF!Alastor, he does lay down some ground rules, as a relationship with him, will not be the same as a relationship with others.
BF!Alastor is a gentleman, no doubt. He opens any door that you may come across (car, building, whatever), he asks for consent before doing anything — however intimate it may be, and he does buy you flowers.
But, that does not mean BF!Alastor is perfect, he’s not the most physically affectionate, unless he initiates it himself, and he’s not great with feelings.
If you’re upset, he tries to stay away, not because he doesn’t care, but because most of the time he’ll keep his upbeat energy and act like nothings wrong in attempts to cheer you up — but sometimes that’s just not what you need.
But, BF!Alastor kicks in eventually, and turns on some calming music, turns his radio affect down in volume so the sound doesn’t overwhelm you, and give you a nice, long hug as you two sway around the room.
By far, BF!Alastor’s love language is acts of service and quality time.
BF!Alastor honestly adores spending time with you, you’ve made him feel more alive than he has in years, and he follows you around like a puppy, but he makes it look like you following him around rather than the other way.
And he’ll always do things for you, even if he doesn’t understand them. If they make you happy, he might as well get started on doing them, because he can’t go awhile without seeing your darling face and your beautiful smile.
Tumblr media
Sir Pentious
Crush!Pentious is… very… obvious.
But you don’t say anything, cause he’s adorkable.
You watch day after day out of pure adoration as Crush!Pentious tumbled over his words and changes his mind as he tried to make a move, and you loved every second of it.
This went on for awhile, and you started to notice his little quirks, which only made you fall for him more.
Eventually, one day after Crush!Pentious had tried to subtly say that he liked you, you decided to do him a favor.
“Pen.”
“I like you too.”
“I- UHM- WELL- YOU’RE- I- UHM-”
Yeah maybe that didn’t go how you thought it would…
Well in more ways than one, cause Crush!Pentious became BF!Pentious that day!
BF!Pentious was really nervous, he finally had you! But he didn’t wanna lose you cause he did something stupid either… He had to make the perfect move!
So he ended up asking Charlie to ask you a bunch of relationship related questions, and ending up deciding on your dream date with your favorite flowers. Basic, but gets the job done right?
BF!Pentious’ love languages are gift giving and physical touch. Like please cuddle him. He’ll get pouty if you don’t notice. So just notice already!!
BF!Pentious, like Charlie, loves making you gifts! He uses his knowledge from war machines to make something homemade and honestly it’s just the sweetest thing!
Is he perfect? Yes. But for this let’s say no. Does he try? Also yes!
Tumblr media
Husker
Crush!Husk can’t even remember the last time he had a crush, but he’s chill with it.
Crush!Husk never planned on officially confessing to you, he just was going with the flow, ya know?
You start talking to him and realize maybe you like him too, but it wasn’t thought about much more than that.
It’s not until Angel asks you, “So are ya fucking or no..?”
And it makes you think, no, but you wouldn’t mind if that were arranged.
So one night, while you’re drunk and talking to Crush!Husk, you say… “Y-Ya knOW! We- We should HAHAH get together! HEHEHEH!” “Talk to me when you’re sober, you’re not making a stupid decision, I won’t let ya.”
And somehow, someway, you remembered that in the morning. So with a headache from your hangover, you go up to Husk’s bar and sit down, “What are we?” “Whatever you want us to be.”
From then on, Crush!Husk became BF!Husk!!
BF!Husk always made sure to look out for you. He’s the ‘defend you in public, correct you in private’ kinda guy.
BF!Husk is big on words of affirmation and acts of service.
He won’t hesitate to tell you how much he loves and cares for you whenever you need it, he’s a very honest guy, but he also loves doing little things to show that he cares.
‘Oh, I did the dishes for you.’ or ‘I cleaned your room.’ or ‘I folded your laundry.’ are things you hear daily.
Tumblr media
Niffty
Crush!Niffty is another one that’s very obvious, and quite frankly, she doesn’t care.
Crush!Niffty has been open to you about her feelings since day one, and you make sure she knows you feel the same way.
So basically instantly, she becomes GF!Niffty.
GF!Niffty loves physical touch and acts of service.
She loves cleaning for you, and showing you all her accomplishments. But she also loves hugging you, kissing you, just being next to you is enough.
Life isn’t much different versus life with Crush!Niffty but you love it regardless, and you wouldn’t trade either life for anything.
Tumblr media
Lucifer Morningstar
Crush!Lucifer doesn’t really have that shock of realizing he likes you, cause he always has and has always known.
You were the one person who was there after Lilith, even if it was only platonic back then, you were still there.
Crush!Lucifer REALLY likes you and considering how long he’s liked you (literal years) he decides to just man up and say it.
Unsurprisingly, you feel the same way and you two start dating.
BF!Lucifer doesn’t want to lose you like how he lost Charlie and Lilith, so he’s very certain that he gives you everything he thinks you derserve.
BF!Lucifer is a big jumble of all the love languages at once because of this. But I think he leans towards physical touch and words of affirmation.
BF!Lucifer is constantly in need of reassurance as he feels like he’s not enough due to his depression, and also hugs, because y’know, hugs help.
If you have a good relationship with Charlie, which you should, like cmon, he’s ecstatic! And sometimes he needs your help with parenting cause he really wants to try his best for you, and her.
Tumblr media
Adam
Adam and you started off just fucking for fun, and fucking for fun turned into, friends, friends turned into- woah… it turned into a crush…
Crush!Adam is fucking clueless, he’s not good with this stuff, just guitar solos (FUCK YEAAHH).
During Charlie’s meeting with Heaven, he slips you a note…
Hey hot babe,
wanna do more than just fuck? (date)
And my God, you better accept because THAT is ART.
BF!Adam is far from perfect, but damn close. He really cares. But his main love languages are quality time and physical touch.
I mean cmon, he’s not great with his words, he can’t do much other than fight, he’s ass at giving gifts (he tried to give you a dildo once). So it’s really the only thing he’s good at, he can sit there, and touch you. That’s about all he knows how to do!
At the end of the day, BF!Adam really tries his best, he loves you, after all :)
Tumblr media
Lute
Considering the fact you’re Lute’s boss, she spends a lot of time with you.
And because of that, she starts to develop feelings.
Crush!Lute realizes she has a crush on you almost immediately, although she hesitates to tell you, due to how much you guys are together and her job.
But after awhile, she has a bit of a ‘screw it’ moment.
And boom! She turns into GF!Lute.
GF!Lute is a whole new version of the person you had gotten to know. Her wild side comes out, unlike her normal stoic side. (Example: “RIP VAGGIES CUNT MOUTH OUT ‘ER ASS!!!”)
Also side note, GF!Lute is committed as fuckkk. Once she’s there, she’s there for good, cause she loves you!
— END.
Hello! This is my first Hazbin post! I haven’t written for these characters in a solid year so I hope it’s alright! As I said up top, if this gets a lot of love, then I’ll do a part two (Which will include Cherri and the Vees to name a few~) ! Also don’t mind my Lute bias lmao, she’s my fav, she’s so hatable but idgaf and I love her vibe lmao! I’m hyperfixating on Hazbin since the first season just came out lmao! So please send requests! Love ya :)
3K notes · View notes
kyunzin · 2 months
Text
𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞
Tumblr media
character; 𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧
cw; picking up the phone while they’re fucking you (f!reader)
tags; slight voyerism/missionary position/ teasing (gojo), teasing/ doggy style/ degradation (geto), vouyerism/ degradation/ praise/ chokehold/ back shots (toji),sex tape/ voyerism/degradation/ objectification / missionary (sukuna), [yuuji makes an appearance at the end] (f!reader)
a/n; I haven’t posted in a while, if you requested it is in the making I promise, by the way if the spelling/grammar is bad it’s cause i’m writing this at 1 am my brain ain’t function properly rn
Tumblr media
𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
✰ would tease you, pick up the phone and tell the person that picked up that you’re busy while still fucking you.
“why don’t you answer it baby, it might be important?”
he smirks down at you as he watches you glare at him even though your moaning, letting out a weak “fuck you” at his childish antics.
“c’mon, all you have time do is see what they want it can be that hard”
his pace doesn’t let up and you watch in horror as he picks up the phone to answer with a devious smirk on his face. he knows you didn’t actually expect him to pick up the phone.
“this is gojo speaking, ah nanamin it’s you. sorry shes busy but I can help you”
your quick to slap your hand over you mouth and gojo feels the way you clench around him and he watches in amusement as you try to contain your noise though he’s sure the sound of his hips slapping against yours are making it through the speaker.
“yeah, I’ll be sure to pass on the message don’t worry”
once the call ends he throws the phone to the side and continues fucking you however the smirk never leaves his face. you’re sure to call nanami back and apologise for gojo’s behaviour.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮
✰ he would tease yout at first baiting you but he wouldn’t actually pick up.
“what would they think if they heard the pathetic sounds you’re making baby, you wanna find out?”
he watches as you shake your head and whine at his suggestion from below him but he feels the way your cunt tightens around him at the idea.
“you sure baby, then why did your pussy squeeze so tight when I mentioned it, clearly you want them to hear how much of a cock hungry slut you are don’t you”
it’s the first time something like this has happened so you’re not sure if he’s actually going to pick up or not, you’re oulse raising in anticipation.
“you think I don’t feel the way your sucking me in even tighter, someone would think that you actually enjoy the idea of someone hearing you, is that what you want?”
“no sug, please” you don’t know if your pleas will work as the way his hands grip onto your waist tighter say otherwise as well as the way he starts to reach for the phone ahead your pulse increasing. you believe he’s going to follow through with the suggestion until he picks yo the phone to decline the call and you sigh in relief.
“don’t worry princess, I’m the only one that gets to hear your slutty moans”
𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢
✰ would pick up straight away and make you speak to the person on the phone as he fucks you.
“tell them you’re busy, make it quick”
your not ready by the time he puts the phone up to your ear and you don’t even recognise the voice speaking to you not that you have half the brain right now as toji fucked the sense out of you but you have to comply with his wishes as you dont want to be punished even though you know hes only doing it to humiliate you.
“make sure you speak properly otherwise they won’t be able to understand you baby”
it’s hard for you to speak as he has you held up by your throat so your words come out choppy in between your moans and theres no doubt that the person on the phone can tell whats going on. “ye -fuck! hello s-sorry about that. shit, can I um -oh fuck, can I c-call you back later?”
“taking to long princess, hurry up”
“fuck! m’ trying, please! no not you -fuck sorry. m’ b-busy right now so I’m gonna call you back- fuck!” toji doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence sending one particularly harsh thrust just before the call ends throwing it back to it’s place.
“such a good girl doing as i asked, but now they know what a dirty slut you are, taking calls while you’re being fucked”
𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧
✰ puts the phone next to your pussy so that the person can hear the obscene sounds then next to your mouth to hear your moans.
“keep making ‘em pretty noises for me”
you don’t even notice when he picks up the phone but you soon realise that he is holding your phone down to where his balls slap against your ass making the wettest sound and you know that he’s recording a video as he usual does when the two of you fuck, he says he saved it for when he can’t fuck you l.
“hear that it’s the sound of quality pussy, she’s sucking me in so tightly. bet you wish you were me huh?”
you don’t even have half a mind to question what he’s doing right now as even though he’s occupied with the phone he’s still fucking you brutally shaking the bed with the force of his thrusts eliciting loud and long moans from you.
“my pretty little whore can take my dick so well, she even makes the prettiest noises for me wanna hear?”
you’re not sure how long he records the sounds your pussy makes but the next thing you know is that the phone is placed next to your ear for it to hear the profanities leave your mouth one after the other a proud smirk on his face as you do “ryo please- oh fuck, feels s-so fuckin good”
“my cunt takes cock so well, pretty sure it’s all she’s good for. just to be used as my fleshlight”
you soon later come to learn that it was yuuji the video was for yuuji after hearing your moans he may or may have not fisted his cock all night in jealousy wishing it were him fucking you instead.
Tumblr media
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
@tyunixia @riowmie
2K notes · View notes