#and if i get another job and just work that will surely drain all remaining life out of me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

freedomfireflies · 2 months

Text

I Love You*

Summary: The second part to Yellow* and One for the Money*

The one where you tell Mr. Styles you love him and you wonder if he'll say it back.

Word Count: 3k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, blow job, multiple orgasms, brief Daddy kink, Sir kink

I love you.

Three little words that feel so big in such a small room.

Mr. Styles remains still. Unmoving. So quiet, you wonder if you actually said the words aloud or if you only thought them.

But you can feel his heart racing. Can hear the subtle hitch in his breath as the seconds tick by. And you know, undoubtedly, that he heard you.

You clear your throat. “You don’t…you don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.”

There’s another long lull between your admission and his response. He shifts in your arms before finally he finally nods once.

And that suffices as his reply.

Truth be told, you feel relieved. You aren’t even sure why you said it at all, much less now. And after such an intimate scene. Especially when you knew he most likely wouldn’t say it back.

But you don’t blame him for that. Mr. Styles has never been the overly romantic, affectionate type. You don’t expect that to change just for you. You’re happy with the relationship you have. You like that you stay at his apartment more than your own. You like that he dedicates his free time to you. And you like that you work together and play together.

He’s more than just your partner and your boss. He’s…yours.

“Sir?” you whisper, and you feel his hand tighten around yours. “Are you all right?”

He nods again. Quickly. Strained. “I’m fine, Peach. Are you?”

You nod, too. “Mhm. I’m better now. Promise.” A beat. “Could we start the scene again?”

He lets out a sigh and finally looks up to catch your eye. “Maybe later. We’ll see.”

You pout and feel that anxious twist in your stomach return. You don’t want to end this moment on a sour note. The note where you had to safe word and make him stop only to tell him you love him and surely freak him out. You want to go back. Start it all over again. Do it right.

He notices your frown and tilts his head. “Peach,” he warns. “Don’t.”

“But—”

“I said we’ll see,” he repeats sternly. “If you’re good, I’ll consider it. But if you want to argue with me, you can sit here, achy and dripping, with nobody to touch you.”

You bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.” He pats your hip. “I’ve got a few more emails to answer before dinner. If I go, will you be all right until I’m done?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He takes hold of your chin. Firm. “I want your honesty.”

“You have it.”

He hesitates. There’s a tension here, between you. An unspoken strain and an edge you’d give anything to smooth out.

You can tell he wants to resolve it. He’s a problem solver. It’s in his nature to fix things. And that’s how this whole arrangement was started in the first place.

But how can he fix what he knows he broke?

He kisses your cheek. Quickly. Gently. “Be good while I’m gone.”

And with that, he leaves you. He turns off the camera, puts his clothes back on, and disappears into his home office.

You spend the next several hours trying not to stare at his closed door. Or thinking about how it ended. What you said. You delete the footage off the SD card and vow to never speak of this day again.

He feels so far away, even if it’s only a few hundred feet. But there’s an ocean between you now and you are lost in his sea.

Dinner is good. You order Chinese and it’s delivered right as he’s exiting his office for the night. You do your best to put things back to the way they were before. You talk—a lot—and he listens. He’s quiet. Nodding along without much commentary. He picks at his food and you know something is still on his mind.

You hate it.

He cleans up while you go take a shower. You take your time, allowing the water to wash away your regret. Make you clean again. Until each mistake has been swept down the drain.

The two of you will be okay. You have to be.

When you get out, you find him on the bed. He’s got his reading glasses on and a book in his hand and he looks…

Ethereal.

You’ve always been attracted to him. How could you not be, when he has a jaw like that and abs that could grate cheese? But somehow, he looks even better like this—relaxed. At peace. He’s still wearing his fancy slacks and white button up. But the sleeves have been rolled to his elbows and he’s left the first few buttons undone.

You step further into the bedroom and he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s engrossed in his novel, glasses perched on the tip of his perfect nose as he flips to the next page. And you smile. Your insides already aching as you crawl onto the end of the mattress and allow your towel to fall away.

When the bed dips, he glances up. Briefly. He notices the feral look in your eye and the way you’re moving toward him. He knows what you want and thankfully, he doesn’t deny you.

He looks back to his book. “How was your shower?”

“Good,” you murmur. You reach for his belt and slip it through each loop until you can toss it toward the floor.

He’s quiet.

“How’s your book?” you ask and he hums.

“It’s all right. Not entirely helpful but I like the subject.”

You grin. You adore when he sounds studious. “That’s good.” You pull his zipper down and reach inside his briefs.

Still, he doesn’t so much as flinch. He reads and he pretends as though you aren’t currently dragging your palm along his hardening cock. He pretends your tits aren’t mere inches from his grasp and he pretends that he can’t see the way you’ve already begun to drip.

You take him in your mouth. Your tongue is wet and ready and you swing your leg over his thigh in order to brace yourself against his lap and take him fully. He’s large. Incredibly large and you forget that sometimes until you feel the way he curves down your throat.

You pull back and spit only to watch the way it drips down his length until you can smear it around the way you want.

“Peach,” you hear him say and you look up. He moves the book aside to see you. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

He reaches down and pinches your cheek. “Watch it,” he warns and he’s strict but somehow kind. “I thought I told you to wait.”

“I did wait,” you argue before sucking on his tip. You pop off and lick your lips. “All day. Couldn’t wait any longer.”

“Hm.” He moves his hand to the back of your head and tugs you away. “I’m not sure I should let you.”

“…why?” You straighten up. “I’m okay now. I want to do this. And you never got to finish—”

“Peach—”

“—which I know isn’t the point,” you amend quickly, remembering what he said before. “I know. But I want to make you finish. I want to make you feel good. Especially after what you did for me.”

He frowns now. Sighs. Takes off his glasses and sets down his book. “I’m your dominant and your partner. It is my job to take care of you. I don’t do it because I want something in return and my kindness is not transactional. I care about you. I want you to be okay. Always.”

I care about you isn’t exactly an I love you but it still makes you smile. Really, really big.

“I know,” you whisper. You squeeze his thigh. “But I feel…edged.”

He smirks. “Do you?”

“Mhm.” You dip back down and drag your tongue up from his balls. You notice his jaw tick. “And if you really want to take care of me and make sure I’m okay…you’ll cum in my mouth.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He considers this, fingers tapping over the hard cover of his book. Then, he nods once, and slips his glasses back on. “All right. I’ll let you have your way just this once. But once you’re through, you’re to get into this bed and go to sleep. Is that understood?”

You nod eagerly. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl. Go ahead.”

With that, you continue your sucking and fondling while he continues reading his novel. The bedroom is eerily silent except for the loud echo of your wet, enthusiastic lapping at the large cock sitting proudly on your tongue. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if he won’t give you your own orgasm before bed, you’re content to have him just like this.

It doesn’t take long until he’s twitching in your mouth. He doesn’t look at you or watch the way your cheeks hollow or the way his balls look in your pretty hands, but you know he’s desperate to. You can tell by the way he turns the page. The way he grips the book and tries incredibly hard not to rip it in half as he moves to the next chapter.

You don’t slow. You keep going, even as his legs flex beneath you. As his chest takes in labored breaths. You want to get him there and he subtly nudges his leg further into your cunt to feel your arousal smear across his skin.

You do everything you know he likes, even though the camera is off. You suck and squeeze and give him everything you know he likes. Because this performance is just for him. The way you moan, the way you swallow, the way you bob and take more of him than you think you ever have before.

You’re his good girl. His investment, his toy, his.

And moments before he finally releases himself all down your throat, he tosses the book aside, grabs a fistful of your hair, and yanks you off.

“Get on,” he grits and tugs you closer.

You don’t need to be told twice. You scoot forward and line him up just so before he takes hold of your hips and helps you sink down. Things move quickly and he doesn’t have the patience to wait any longer.

And it’s beautiful, this moment. The way he stretches you open. And even if there’s a slight burn from the intrusion of his thick cock, you revel in the pain. Both of you groaning the moment you feel it.

And you know he won’t be able to hold off much longer.

“How did it taste, Peach, hm?” he asks as he fucks up into you. “How did it feel to have me in your mouth?”

“Good,” you pant. You claw at his curls. “So good, Sir—”

“Yeah?” He slaps his hand against your ass and you mewl. “Like to take my cock, don’t you? Like to be my dirty little slut—"

“Yes—”

“Like to feel me down your throat…have me cum all over your tongue.”

You make too many noises and he reaches up to pull your lip with his teeth. He kisses you and groans into your mouth and this is what sex should be. Rough and hard but filled with adoration.

“What a fucking whore,” he groans. He tugs at your hips. Watches the bulge in your belly with every thrust. “Begging to suck my cock, wanting to make Daddy feel good…guess I don’t give your mouth enough things to do, hm?”

You shake your head and wilt in his hold. He rarely refers to himself with that nickname and hearing it now almost tips you over.

“So fucking wet,” he exhales and you look down to watch with him. “S’fucking pathetic, isn’t it? Didn’t even have to touch you to have you dripping.”

He’s right. He always is.

He pinches your clit. Takes your nipple in his mouth and lets his large hands scratch down your back—your shoulders blades, your spine, your ass. And you have never felt safer than here in this moment with him.

“Cum,” he says, and he nips at your skin until it’s littered in marks and memories.

“Cum,” he whispers, and he pulls on your hair and wraps it around his fist to bare your throat to his teeth.

“Cum,” he pleads, and he kisses you—hard—until the room is spinning and you finally let go.

You unravel together. A collection of moans and cries and tangled limbs as you make a mess of each other. And you don’t care—about any of it. About what was said earlier, about what wasn’t said, about the way he looked when you said it.

You cling to his strong shoulders and you kiss him hard and you indulge in the feel of him dripping from your cunt.

But he’s not through. He pulls you off his cock and flips you onto your knees until your ass in the air.

You feel his tongue. Dragging up your cunt, tasting the remains of his cum, your cum, everything. He spanks you—hard. Paints his mark across your skin and leaves it there just so he can admire it.

“Say it,” he hisses and you suck in a sharp breath.

“Wha…what?”

“Say it,” he says. He spanks you again and nips at your pussy. “Say you love me.”

You clutch the duvet and your thighs are shaking. Your mind feels fuzzy. “I…”

Another slap to your ass and you’re overstimulated and wildly sensitive. He fucks his tongue into your dripping hole and grunts at the way you keen and you’ve never felt this kind of beautiful confusion.

“Say it.” He holds your thighs open and nearly suffocates himself as he mouths at you. “Fucking tell me you love me. Tell me again.”

You shake your head. You don’t understand. “Harry…”

Wrong. He slips his fingers inside and fucks his cum back into you. Fast. Lewd. Loud. “Come on, Peach. I know you want to. Know you do….so say it.”

And maybe this is a trick. Maybe this is some cruel, sadistic game just to make you lose but you can’t think straight when he’s this close. When he’s bending your body to his salacious intentions and treating you like a toy.

“I love you,” you whisper. You screw your eyes shut. “I do, I love you, Sir.”

He curses. Groans. “Again.”

“I love you.” You fall onto the bed stomach first but he doesn’t stop. He flips you around and he looks at you as he eats you. “I love you, Mr. Styles.”

His lashes flutter. You reach for his hair and tug it with your fist and he moans into your cunt before drinking you down. Spitting on your pussy just to smear it around and thrust it back into you.

You arch. “Shit, I love you—I—”

You cum again and he enjoys every second of it. He pulls you as close to his face as he can get you and lives inside the sound of your strained whimpers.

And when you finish, he leaves your clit with a satisfied pop and licks his lips. You watch him crawl up your body until he’s settled atop your chest and you smile lazily as he reaches up to run his hand down your cheek.

“My sweet Peach,” he whispers and kisses you hard. You taste everything. You taste him. You taste the desperation woven alongside his tongue. He kisses you until you can’t breathe and he only stops so he can stare at you a little longer.

You brush your fingers through the damp curls along the back of his neck. “That was fun.”

He’s quiet. Studying you closely and you feel as though you’re being graded on a test you didn’t know you were taking.

Then, he murmurs, “I don’t say it.”

Your heart skips. You don’t have to ask what he means. “I…I know. It’s okay. I don’t expect you—”

“I don’t say it because I’m afraid I can’t live up to it,” he continues. He ignores you. “Because the last time I did, I couldn’t deliver on what it meant. My love didn’t look the same as hers did. I said it. And she still left.”

Your other hand finds his shirt. You trail your touch over the exposed skin of his chest and you feel the way his heart races. “I know.”

His brows furrow. “I want to say it,” he says softly. “I want to. For you. Because I do. And I don’t want this to feel unfair—”

“It doesn’t,” you assure him. “I promise. I…I figured you wouldn’t say it back and I was okay with that. Because it doesn’t change the fact that I do.”

Another beat. “I’m worried you didn’t mean it.”

“What?”

He sighs and sweeps his thumb along your jaw. “You’d been anxious, and you were scared. You said none of your other partners had ever been kind to you in moments like that, and…sex is intimate. It can change the chemistry in your brain and maybe…maybe you didn’t mean it—”

“I did.” You grab his face and you make him listen. “Harry, I meant it. I still mean it. And I’ll mean it tomorrow, too. And the next day. And the next.”

His expression softens.

“And I meant it long before today. I wanted to tell you tons of times and I didn’t because…I don’t know. I didn’t want to scare you,” you admit and you both smile. “It is a big word. But it’s just a word. It means nothing without action. And even if you can’t say it, you show it every day. And that’s all I could really want.”

He dips down and nuzzles his nose against yours. “I don’t deserve you, Peach.”

“No,” you tease. “No, you don’t.”

You kiss again and his body feels good against yours. His heart feels good against yours.

Then, he exhales, "I love you."

And you don't say anything. But you smile. Because you know everything he's giving up just to offer you what you want to hear.

Minutes go by before you finally change the subject and say, "You know, I kind of wish we'd been recording all that. That would have been some great content."

He laughs, relieved, and the sound is so incredibly beautiful.

“Next time,” he says and you grin as he holds you closer. “Tonight…your love belongs to me.”

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY CUTIES!!! Granted, this wasn't exactly a Valentine's blurb BUT LISTEN IT WAS CLOSE ENOUGH!!!!! ASLFJSF

I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH and hope you're having the best day! No matter what it looks like or who it's with ♥️

~ Full One for the Money Masterlist

~ Full Masterlist

Credit for the incredible and perfectly peachy dividers to @firefly-graphics!!

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @kathb59 @iamjustaholeforyousir @harrystylesfan2686 @cherryluvhobi @caynonmoondreams @daphnesutton @ilovec0lbybr0ck @definegirlfriendsx @allthelovehes @amiets2 @nega-omega @sucker-4-angst @hsgucci94 @gills-lounge @kennedy-brooke @avasversion @stylesfever @saturnheartz

966 notes · View notes

heartfullofleeches · 10 months

Text

Table 9

Yan Customer + Fast Food Worker Reader + Yan Entities (Mascot, Bathroom Succubus) [18+ mdni]

Summary: Tired of a frequent customer's daily attempts to ask you out, you take your spite to the next level

Warnings/Tags: Food/Cum Play, masturbation, handjobs, rimming, Reader's gender unspecified but they have a peen(amab), aphrodisiacs, slight crack

"Pick up for table seven!"

Morning rush - the calm within the neverending storm. Not even a full twelve hours since you've been away from your job, and here you were manning the front as usual. You weren't scheduled to come in until noon, but somewhere around dawn your coworker made the mistake of opening the drive-through window. Pickfork or not, an angry customer banging on the glass was a safer choice that whatever resided in there. While hectic and overwhelming at times, you welcomed the morning hustle with open arms and as big a smile your weary spirit could muster. The distraction kept your mind off what was to come. The dreaded hour and number that itched at the back of your mind with each passing customer. You don't know if you have the strength today.

"Next!"

"Good afternoon... Y/n~"

Oh no. No. Your head snaps towards the clock. 12:00pm. You duck beneath the counter to check the number of table markers left. There's only one remaining - the identifying curve of the digit in the shadows a mocking grin. Spinning to your feet as if nothing happened, you will the smile of someone held at gun point at the familiar face. A well dressed individual stood before you; neat suit, manicured nails. If you had to guess, they were about your age if not a couple years older, but the twinkle in their eye and lack of wrinkles gave them that youthful patience this job was draining you of. All in all, they appeared to be just another business person grabbing a quick meal on their way to work - but you knew better.

"Afternoon! What can I get you today?"

"Oh, I'm sure we know each other well enough by now to know what I want. I'll have the usual." They point up at the menu, but their sight lingers upon you - the only feast they sought after.

A chill worse than a night in the meat locker courses down your spine as their tongue draws over their pearly whites and smooth lips. Table 9 - whereas the number marker of most booths changed with a new order, there was only one that retained its title and customer. A tiny, two seater in the right corner of the establishment - the perfect view point for the various crimes you committed on their assorted beverages.

The first indication there was something truly wrong with this person came when they had reported finding one of your hairs in their food. When you offered to replace it, they merely thanked you for your hard work and placed the stray lock in the locket they currently wore around their neck. You later found your hair to be uneven on one end when you took a shower. The limits of their depravity had no end. You once spat in their cup in viewing range out of retaliation for their insistency on joining them on a nice walk to their van for a nice reward for all your efforts. You came to your senses as soon as the spit flew, but they beckoned you and their treat over before you could throw it out - downing half of it right in front of you. You can't help but repeat the action everytime they enter despite the joy and hunger in their eyes when you pass it off.

"Right - one small vanilla ice cream in a sundae container. Will that be all?"

"Actually, I was hoping you could make it extra special for me. You see, today is my birthday and while I enjoy everything your fire establishment has to offer - I fear I am craving something... different. I do pray I'm not being greedy by saying this, but I simply can't get enough of you."

Something different? If they're referring to you spitting in their cup - what else could they want?

"They want you to jizz in their ice cream."

The plume of heavy perfume and medical herbs assaults your nostrils in the same time that her voice has on the rest of your senses. Your coworker nibbles on the straw of her beverage, offering you a wave and a wink as your eyes shift between her and the customer. They wouldn't want that.

"Ignore her - I'm sure whatever you need won't break anymore health code violations than we already have." You slowly eye the customer up and down. "I'm seventy percent sure whatever you need won't break anymore health code violations than we already have."

Gentle blush dusts their hollow cheek. They hide the curl of their lips with their fist as they glance elsewhere. "W-well.... I wouldn't be opposed to it.

They definitely want that.

Your coworker gently nudges your arm. "Eh, I say you should do it. It's their birthday after all and your break's still an hour away. I'll handle business up here until you get back."

You raise an eyebrow. "Normally you and the rest of them are quick to get rid of anyone who so much as breathes at me after I take their order." Your shoulders slump as the realization hits you. "You predicted this somehow and want to watch me on the security cameras during your next break."

"I totally did - and do. Plus, I'm fairly certain that guy isn't human either and after seeing what those hands in the ball pit can do, I really don't want to get my ass kicked unless you're in real trouble."

"Figures.... Alright, fine - I'll do it." Taking off your apron and setting it on the counter, you smack the customer's hands away from it as you finish their order. You grab the dreaded number from beneath the desk and hand it to them. They wait patiently for your command - you roll your eyes. "Don't just stand there - you know where to go."

"Hm, true - I just wanted to hear your voice longer. To picture the blessed sounds you'll make for me back there."

"Don't push it."

Your coworker thrusts her cup into your hands. "Drink some. It'll help you finish quicker."

You mindlessly wrap your lips around the bitten draw. "How is watered down diet cola supposed to help me?"

"Infused with my spit."

Oh...right. It's fairly easy to forget your coworker is a succubus when she wears contacts to hide the blacks of her eyes and your uniform hat already comes with horns. Your head swims: vision spotty as your breathing grows ragged. Startled and aroused by the soft flesh pressed against your arm, your eyes dart to her as she nestles your arm in her chest - lacey black bra poking from her unbuttoned shirt.

You shutter as she blows against your neck. "If....we ever get that priest out of the ball pit, I'm giving him your address first."

"And I love you too - now get going."

You stumble forward as she pushes you on - shaking legs and a heavy body tugging you through the kitchen; the waypoint task of grabbing a sundae cup near impossible with the weightlessness of your limbs. You tumble your way into the empty break room, dragging your work pants down to mid thigh and your shirt over stomach as you relieve the building strain in your underwear. You flinch as the drooling tip slaps against your navel; hand firm around the base. You fist your cock to full mass as the cup flies across the table; your back hunched as you lurch across the wooden surface. Swallowing the end of your shirt to stifle your panting breaths, the cold, ventilated air nibs at your bare torso and thighs.

The stimulant in your coworker's saliva taking full effect - your mind floods with crude imagery as your cock throbs painfully in your hand. Pressing the plush of your palm to your girth, your thoughts draw back to your dear coworker and her innocent ploy of placing your arm against her breast; how they spilled out of her top daily and the way she battered her eyes when she caught you staring. Rutting your cock between her tits and waiting tongue would be too much for you right about now. You thought about that annoying customer taking her place on their knees before you; eyes cloudy with love-struck awe and desire as you stroked yourself to completion and came down their eager throat.

"S...shit...hah..." You groan loudly, the shift of the table as your hips snap against your wrist perfectly masking the creak of break room door as it glides open. The figure cranes its large body and neck to peer in at you as you attempt to fix the table while still fisting your dick in one hand. You linger in your agonizing high, unaware of its presence - until it begins to whistle.

The mascot.

You turn back in time to see that hulking figure maneuver its curving horns through the doorframe as it enters the room. Its chest extends with a stale breath; unblinking eyes training on your smaller stature and leaking member. The lack of bloodstains on its apron and leather gloves tells you its been unsuccessful with its daily hunts, but something warns it wasn't after human flesh in its preferred cut.

Lambchop the goat demon. Obviously not your choice in naming, but you settled on just calling it what it was. The humanoid devil had been responsible for majority of the disappearances around the restaurant and number four on your headache list. Whether as it met your fellow coworkers with butcher knives and their fallen companions in nugget containers, it greeted you with bouquets of flowers and signals to braid your hair as you worked. It wasn't the most annoying entity, but you'd prefer to have the extra hands it keeps chopping off. You'd never seen under its mask, but considering everything else that went on here you didn't expect to see much.

The Mascot stalks towards you, lowering its clever to the floor and its head in curiousity. You chew your lower lip as its hands come up to your sweaty, quivering thighs. The skin beneath your teeth breaks as it pads a finger to your balls - eyes worked back up at you.

"Make it quick."

You don't need to tell it twice. Gripping your shoulders, the mascot spins you on your heels and takes your cock into its leathery hand, pointed finger tips curling against your abdomen. It tucks its claws into its palm as it rubs your length; the harsh, yet tender pressure to your dick making your head spin as it did the first hit of the aphrodisiac. You hear the tear of fabric and soon find the mascot's slimy tongue coursing the vein lines in your neck - teeth locking around the sensitive flesh of your collar. You whimper at the spill of your blood over its fangs and the shameful ecstasy as it suckles the area and teases your nipple between its fingers. The mascot looks down to see the bounce of your ass against its thigh as you fuck its fist with another bout of sinful cries - suddenly pushing you over as your stomach twists in knots.

"the hell are you.....ngh!"

You grit your teeth as the mascot tanks your pants and shorts down to your ankles. Its long, heavy tongue darts out and licks the precum glazed head, dragging up the underside of your twitching cock to your balls and finally pressing against your asshole. You claw at the table for mercy as the thick appendage works its grithy slime into your tight hole; large hand gripping your cheek and spreading them apart as it wriggles against your walls. Its saliva drips down over your balls as it explodes; staining your cock black as it smears the drool into your shaft as it continues to milk you off your building worth. You clench around the muscle, legs close to giving out before its strong arms and shoulders catch - tongue fucking back atop the creaking table. You reach back to grab its horns with your noodly limbs, all remaining strength lost as you cry out.

"Fuck!... slow...slow down. I can't-"

"Y/n! You almost done in there!?"

You blink away tears as you call out. "Y-yea! I'm...ah- coming... I'll be there soon!"

The mascot slams its tongue into your ass; mixture of its length and thickness reaching deeper than you could with your fingers and hitting all the right spots that made retrieving the cup a feat. You nearly forgot about it, and the whole reason you came in here with your mind void of all thoughts beyond your impending climax. You tug the mascot's horn, begging for pause so you can fit the plastic container beneath you. It completely ignores you and swats your hand away, leaving you to struggle getting it under the table as you rock back on its tongue and snout. Your tip hits the bottom of the cup as your vision whites; full body trembling as you shoot ropes of your milky cum into the container. The mascot drills you vigorously through your earthshaking orgasm, ripping another out of you before you're able to call it off through whines. It stands up and takes the cup lose in your sweaty hands, aiming your dick at its rim as the dribbles of your spend run down its interior. The mascot pulls you up against its clothed chest, patting your head and praising you with soft hums as it picks your pants up off the floor and loops the buckle around your waist all with one hand. It stares, unblinking at you glance back - awaiting its reward. You kiss its cheek as you lower your shirt.

"Thanks."

The mascot nuzzles your cheek with its nose, watching and licking its stained hand as it leaves the way it came. It looks back at the cup - almost remorseful in its stare. Looking down at the cup, you see it filled roughly halfway with your spunk - likely increase by the effects of the naturally produced drug. You cringe as you pick it up, stumbling your way back out the break room and to the ice cream machine. You glare down the dreaded box and the spirit inside as you grab its handle.

"Do not.... fuck with me today."

The machine quietly dispenses the ice cream, the creamy white mostly masking the translucent fluid at the bottom. The machine let's you go about your day with no further issue - ghost hover off, disappointed. "A kiss would've been nice."

You wobble your way to the front; clothes wrinkled and hanging off your shoulders, body sweaty and hair clinging to your face. You fix your hat as you straighten yourself against the counter, slamming the container down - clutching your chest as you breath. "Order for Table... 9..."

"Ah!" The customer snatches the ice cream up, lips aimed directly for the freezing rizz on the edge of the cup. They sight in delight, stiff posture relaxed in favor of their newfound taste of paradise. "Heavenly~ I do pray this will be on the minute in the future."

The customer takes their spoon and another bite as they hum happily to themselves, skipping towards their table. You call up the next customer who points at them.

"Can I get whatever they had?"

".....might want to rethink that decision."

#yandere oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere blurb #yandere x reader #yandere smut #yandere teratophilia #yandere drabble #tw yandere #fast food reader

1K notes · View notes

missingn000 · 1 month

Text

a note about tpg's hiatus

hi everyone!! i've missed y'all <33 i want to share a quick note on tpg's hiatus, and how long it will last.

first and foremost, the tl;dr: i will not abandon tpg. the story remains incredibly important to me, and this hiatus is only that: a hiatus. i will return eventually, and while i am not exactly sure when "eventually" is, i hope to begin updating again soon.

now the long explanation. tpg's hiatus has lasted much, much longer than i expected. it wasn't until i took a break that i realized how mentally and emotionally drained i was after writing 600k+ in 2 years, along with being an engineering master's student then starting a job in aerospace. especially after writing sukuna's backstory (75k+ words in one month), my brain was utterly fried. all in all, it's been a lot.

as some of you may know, i started watching one piece in september. and i love it! it's an incredibly fun, well-written feel-good series. it's been a refreshing mental break to engage with a new series, especially since jjk canon has been so disappointing in both content and writing quality.

if you check my ao3, you'll notice i took a break from jjk with other series in the past: namely dr. stone, sxf, and natsume yuujinchou. this is necessary for me to remain creative and explore narrative themes that i bring back to tpg when i return to it. but by the time my recent hiatus started, it had been well over a year since i engaged with any other series than jjk, and it was starting to take its toll on me. i'm almost caught up on one piece now, which means i'll be able to focus on tpg again soon.

when i return from tpg's hiatus, updates may be slower. releasing 15k+ word chapters every 2-4 weeks was incredibly mentally taxing and required much of my time and focus to constantly be on the story. it wasn't healthy, and other areas of my life were impacted negatively. it can be easy to forget that i'm a real person with real-life responsibilities writing this story in my spare time for free -- even i sometimes forgot this.

another note on why taking a break has been so necessary is my mental health. when season 2 released and toji + satosugu was animated, the fandom exploded and tpg's readership drastically increased. while this meant an influx of amazing love and support, i also started to receive rude and hateful comments and messages.

don't get me wrong: not everyone has to like tpg. that's totally fine! but as a very sensitive person, receiving hate took a huge toll on my mental health and motivation, and i have needed time to recover from it. i've been doing better mentally lately, and have taken some measures to reduce unkind interactions. i'm working on becoming less sensitive in the meantime so i can handle it better if/when it happens again.

since i've been feeling guilty about not posting jjk content, i haven't been on tumblr quite as much, but i'm still around online on both discord and instagram. mutuals can request my priv @chiidoriii on IG, and my discord is @MissingN000 -- just shoot me a message with who you are when you request! i'll still post fic updates on both new stories as well as tpg content and previews on tumblr, so please stick around :)

thank you so much for your patience with me! i love you all so much, and truly appreciate your support. love, chi <333

91 notes · View notes

a-reader-and-a-writer · 11 months

Text

Jake's Destiny: Crossing the Line

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, f!reader, stripper!reader

Summary: Jake was your best client until you told him he couldn't ask for you anymore. However, that doesn't stop him from coming back for you. Will you continue to brush him off or will you find the courage to admit the real reason you need to cut ties?

Word Count: 2349

TW: Love Confession, Fluff, Kissing, Light Grinding, Jake picks Reader up

Note: Thank you to @onebigfangirlworld for sending the made-up title request that sparked this idea (I didn't stick with the title but it is a line in the fic!). And thank you to @lorecraft for beta reading for me! 🥰 You are the best!

Series Masterlist (but can be read as a one-shot)

You adjusted your bustier and your makeup one last time and slipped out of the dressing room. But as you began to head towards the bar, Charity grabbed your arm. "Oh, you have someone waiting for you in room number three."

You groaned. "Already? I've literally been on the floor for less than a minute."

She shrugged. "I don't know. Karma told me to tell you.”

You thanked Charity and headed to the private rooms in the back. While you much preferred working the floor or behind the bar, if you were going to get requested to one of the back rooms, it was better that it happened at the start of your shift before you got aggravated by the night's clientele. Though the patrons of The Hard Deck Gentleman’s Club were all still a class above those you had dealt with at your last job, you still got the occasional jackass who thought because he slapped down a stack of cash, you had to give him whatever he wanted. And it was hard enough plastering on a fake smile when you were in a decent mood but it was agony when the night had already drained you.

However, you began to reconsider your previous view of the situation when you opened the door and saw who was waiting for you.

Dropping all pretense of coyness or niceties, you rolled your eyes as you let the door slam behind you. "What the hell are you doing here? Or better question, what the hell am I doing here? Karma was supposed to get you, not me."

"Yeah, well, I might have paid Karma a little extra to switch places with you for the night."

As usual, Jake Seresin gave you a cocky grin as he settled back onto the couch with his whiskey in hand and a toothpick jutting from between his lips. He looked pristine as always in his perfectly tailored suit which probably cost more than your car and his hair was styled in that way where it looked slightly messy but you could tell took hours to perfect. He had opened the top of his crisp white shirt so you could see a glint of the gold chain he always wore and the first glimpses of chest hair poking out. He could have just walked off the set of a high-end photoshoot, and knowing Jake, he might have.

Though he was the only other person in the room, he took up half the space with the way he was sitting: his arms draped all the way across the back of the couch while he sat with his legs spread open wide. He patted his left knee, indicating he wanted you to sit, but you remained where you were with your arms crossed over your chest.

You thought you had made it very clear last time he was here that he couldn’t ask for you anymore. There were plenty of other girls on shift who could give him whatever he needed. In fact, there wasn’t another girl here who wouldn’t be jumping at the chance to do so.

Jake was a unicorn in a place like this. He had more money than God, yet treated all the girls with respect and dignity. Sure, he was a little arrogant and egotistical, but he was also considerate, and a surprisingly good listener. Plus, it didn’t hurt he was supermodel gorgeous.

The first night he came in, he said he didn’t have a preference when it came to which girl joined him in the private room. You were the next one on the schedule so you had taken care of him. Though you had expected him to want as much of you as you would allow, that night he only wanted to talk while you straddled his thigh and lazily ground against it. You left an hour later with the biggest tip you had ever seen and Jake’s request to management that you would be his regular dancer from now on. Since then, he had come in a minimum of once a week and while your interactions did become more physical over time, he never ever tried to cross a line or go further than you allowed.

Which was why everyone else thought you were insane when you told them you would no longer be taking care of him when he came in. However, no one argued with your decision since it meant he was up for grabs. Knowing Jake’s tastes, you figured Karma would be the best one to take your place and had told him as such. Yet here he was waiting for you once again.

"Jake, I told you, I’m done. I have other clients and other responsibilities here. I'm not your personal plaything who can drop everything just because you want me to."

He flicked his toothpick to the floor and calmly took a sip from his glass. "Well, why not? I pay you more for an hour of your time than you could make an entire night with those other 'clients'. And you know you enjoy it just as much as I do, so what’s the big deal?"

Stamping your foot, you cried, "The big deal is that I don't belong to you! Or to anyone! And if I say no, I mean it! So, I can either send Karma back in here or you can leave.”

You turned to go but Jake jumped to his feet, leaped over the glass table in front of the couch, and slammed his hand against the door blocking your exit. You didn’t turn your head, but your eyes flickered up to his face. “Let me go, Jake.”

He shook his head. “No, you don’t get to say that and then just walk away. Fine, I can be blunt and upfront about what I want, but I would never try to force anyone into anything they didn’t want. And that includes bribing or coercing them with money. You know me. You know I’m not like that. I just…. I had to come back. I just want to understand what I did. Why seemingly overnight you started hating me. I don’t get it.”

The desperation in his voice makes your resolve crumble. You had never seen Jake beg like this. He was always so confident and self-assured when he came to see you that you never imagined anything being able to rattle him. But apparently, you could.

Nodding softly, you said, “You’re right. I know you’d never do that. I’m sorry if that’s what it sounded like I meant. This isn’t about you or anything you did. I just can’t keep seeing you, Jake. I’m sorry.”

You tried to open the door again, but he kept his hand firmly in place. “Why? Des, talk to me! What is really going on?”

You knew if you wanted to, you could get him to let you leave. Jake wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t force anyone into anything they didn’t want, but he also knew you well enough at this point to tell the difference between a request and a demand. And so far, your mentions of leaving have just been a request.

Maybe that was because deep down you did want him to know the truth. Maybe you wanted to see how he would react to it. Or maybe you just couldn’t bring yourself to cut Jake Seresin out of your life as you planned.

Whatever the reason, you took a deep breath. Dropping your hand from the door handle, you wrapped your arms around yourself and turned your back to Jake as you walked towards the corner of the room. “To do this job, I have to set boundaries. And it’s gotten to the point where we’ve crossed my most important one. So I have to end this. I’m sorry.”

You heard Jake take a few steps closer to you, but he made no move to crowd or touch you in any way. “I can respect that, but what boundary did we cross? Maybe I can fix it, go back to before we crossed that line, and it can just be how it was before.”

You shook your head. “It’s not that simple, Jake. I can’t…. I can’t go back. You don’t know how badly I wish I could but I–” you squeezed your eyes closed tightly as you gathered the strength to say the next words “–I have to cut contact with a client if I develop feelings for them.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Your words hung in the air, filling the room with a weighty tension as you waited for Jake to react. For him to laugh at you. For him to slip out of the room. For him to embarrassingly try to reassure you it was okay but he could never have feelings for someone like you. You waited with bated breath for that hammer to drop and shatter your heart into pieces.

But it never came. Instead, you felt a pair of strong arms encircle you from behind as Jake’s head rested against yours, his nose nuzzling against the place just above your ear.

Squeezing you tightly against his broad chest, he purred, “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

You turned in his arms so you were staring up at his face just inches from yours, not daring to believe the unspoken meaning behind his words. “Wh-what?”

“Des, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the moment you first walked through that door and smiled at me.” He brushed his hand across your cheek, his thumb softly rubbing circles over your cheekbone. “Why do you think I spend thousands of dollars a week just to see you? You told me the first night I came in here that you didn’t date clients. That our time in this room was all we would ever have. So, I figured if this was the only way I could be with you, I would take it.”

“Jake, I–”

“No. I know what you’re gonna say and I don’t want you to.” He pressed his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses brushing up against each other as he closed his eyes. “Let me hold onto this feeling for just a little bit longer. Let me pretend this could last.”

You leaned into him as you whispered, “I don’t understand. You could have any girl that you want.”

“Good. Because I want you.”

“You don’t even know my real name.”

His eyes opened and you were left staring into two sparkling green pools that made you weak in the knees. “I’m okay with that. Besides, I think Destiny is pretty damn perfect as it is.”

You laughed, the sound wet and bordering on a sob. This couldn’t be happening. Jake couldn’t feel the same way about you that you did about him. Not this millionaire Adonis who made you feel more respected than any man ever had– in or out of the club. This was the sort of fantasy you only saw in fairytales or romcoms, not real life. The rich, handsome bachelor didn’t fall for the stripper. That’s not how the world worked.

And yet….

As his hand intertwined with yours and he gave it a tight squeeze, you made up your mind. Taking a deep breath, you muttered, “In for a penny….” and broke your second most important boundary— you pressed your lips against his.

Instantly, he surged forward as if you had broken down some invisible barrier that had been holding him back. His free hand cupped the back of your neck so he could tilt your head for a better angle, all the while his other hand remained firmly linked with yours. You melted into him, parting your lips to allow his tongue to slip between your lips. He tasted like mint and whiskey and you couldn’t get enough of it.

Finally releasing your hand, Jake slid his arm under your ass and lifted you up, your legs immediately encircling his waist. Without breaking your kiss, he carried you over to the couch– almost tripping on the coffee table –and sat down. You pulled yourself closer to him, your legs still wrapped tightly around him. Your core was pressed against him and as you rolled your hips, you felt him twitch in his pants. Smiling against his lips, you repeated the action several times and felt him hardening against you.

With a groan, Jake finally pulled his lips from yours. He was panting softly as he gazed at you with lust-filled eyes, but he said, “We don’t have to do this. Or anything. Don’t get me wrong, you have no idea how much I want to, but I need you to know this isn’t why I like you. Like you said, any girl in here could give me this. But only you can give me the amazing woman I’ve fallen for.”

You felt tears prickling at the corner of your eyes and you whispered, “Oh, shut up” before recapturing his lips.

While you kissed, your hands fumbled blindly with his belt but you eventually managed to get it open. However, as you started to slip your hands into the waistband of his slacks, he pulled back again and gently grabbed your wrists. “I thought you said in here we weren’t allowed to—”

“Screw it. I’m taking my break.”

You giggled softly as his eyes grew wide and you slipped your hands from his grasp as you eased yourself back onto the floor. Kneeling in front of the couch, you spread his knees farther and slid in between them. As you reached for his zipper with one hand, your other quickly unhooked your bustier and threw it over the camera in the corner of the room. You knew you would probably get yelled at for that later, but right now you didn’t care. What you were about to do to Jake was not business but pleasure. And damn, was it going to be pleasurable.

Please let me know if there is anything specific you would like to see with these two or if you would like to be added to the series tag list! 💕

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @lorecraft, @green-socks, @nerdysuperchick, @heart-0n-fire, @mayhem24-7forever, @wildbornsiren, @hederasgarden, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @callsign-fox, @imjess-themess, @callsign-phoenix, @shanimallina87, @forever-sleepy-sloth, @notroosterbradshaw, @dezthegeek, @blessupblessup, @cherrycola27, @phoenix1389, @nicangelinee, @smells-like-perfect-senses, @boringusername3, @petlaufeyson, @cycbaby, @topguncortez, @footprintsinthesxnd, @fantasticcopeaglepasta, @writercole, @onebigfangirlworld, @wkndwlff, @ravenmoore14, @clancycucumber230

#fic #jake's destiny #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #jake hangman seresin #hangman #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #stripper!reader #dancer!reader #f!reader #jake hangman seresin x stripper!reader #hangman x stripper!reader

120 notes · View notes

a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 11 months

Text

Jake's Destiny: Crossing the Line

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, f!reader, stripper!reader

Word Count: 2208

TW: Love Confession, Fluff, Kissing, Light Grinding, Jake picks Reader up

Series Masterlist (but can be read as a one-shot)