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joelmillerisapunk · 1 month

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Dirty Daddy

Dbf/daddy!Joel x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 2,489

Summary: Congratulations, you've just earned yourself a daddy, albeit not for being a good girl.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, light consensual choking, light slapping, oral receiving m!&f!, fingering, implied age gap, mentions of the names 'slut, brat, babygirl, sweetheart, good girl, and daddy', Joel's all greasy and sweaty.

Notes: it was this picture that inspired this along with part of a request I received that I'm writing a different daddy!fic for. Tysm @saradika-graphics for the divider

Joel groans as he tightens a bolt on his truck, sweat drips down his forehead and mixes with the dirt and grease that cover his face and hands. He's been working on this truck for hours, ever since it broke down on him during a job, his last job of the day. He could be home relaxing. Instead, he's here. Luckily for him, his buddy, your dad offered him the use of his garage to work on it, and Joel gladly accepted. It wasn't often that he got the chance to work on his baby, and he wasn't going to let a little thing like a broken engine get in his way.

But as he stands up and stretches his aching back, he can't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It isn't just the truck that’s been giving him trouble - it’s you, who's been teasing him mercilessly since he arrived. Wearing those skimpy clothes, that short fucking skirt, that leaves little to the imagination, bending over in front of him and "accidentally" brushing up against him as you walk by. Joel's been trying to ignore you, but it's getting harder and harder to do so.

As if on cue, you walk into the garage with a smirk on your face. "Hey Joel, need any help?" You ask, leaning over the open hood, letting your cleavage do most of the talking.

Joel grits his teeth as he looks up straight at your breasts and then quickly back down to the engine. "No, I got it.” he says as he looks up once more only to see you pouting, but Joel can see the spark in your eye. You're enjoying this, you fucking minx.

"Come on, Joel. I'm just trying to help." You reach up to adjust yourself on the hood of the truck, giving him a clearer view of your breasts that are now pretty much popping out of your top. You catch his gaze and smirk, knowing exactly what you're doing to him. You hop down and start touching his arm, “cmon, I can help, I'll hold the flashlight or something.”

Joel snaps, dropping the tool he's holding, and pushes you roughly against the nearest free wall. His grip is tight around your arms despite being all greased up from his truck. "I know what you're doin'," he growls, "And it ain't gonna work."

You can see the fire in his eyes, and you know you've pushed him too far. But instead of backing down, you challenge him. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Joel's eyes narrow, and you can see the tension building in his muscles. "I'm warnin’ you," he says, his voice gets deeper and quieter. "Stop, or you're gonna get a lot more than you bargained for."

"Is that a promise?" you ask.

Joel's eyes go dark, and he grabs your face roughly, his dirty fingers grasping into the hollows of your cheeks, pulling you close, leaving his musky, grimy scent on you. "You have no idea what you're gettin’ yourself into, do ya?” Joel's grip on your face tightens as he leans in closer, his breath hot on your face. "You think you're being clever, huh? Lemme tell ya something, sweetheart. You're playin with fire, and you're gonna get burned."

You can feel the heat radiating off of Joel's body, and you know he's serious. But instead of being afraid, you're turned on. You've never seen this side of Joel before, and you can't help but feel yourself getting wet.

Without warning, Joel grabs you by the waist and pins you harder against the wall as he grinds himself against you, his hardness pressing into your core. "This whatcha want babygirl?" His lips brush against your ear. "You've been teasin' me all day, I think it's my turn to have a little fun now."

You moan as Joel's hands roam over your body, roughly groping your breasts and ass, leaving dark stains across your clothes. You can feel his cock straining against his pants, and you can't wait to feel him inside of you.

"Please," you whimper, "I need it."

Joel smirks as he pulls away from you. "Beggin already?" He says, 'That ain’t like you."

He reaches down and unzips his pants, pulling out his long, hard cock and starts to stroke it. "On your knees," he commands.

You don't hesitate, sinking to your knees in front of him. You take his cock in your hand, stroking it gently as you look up at him with wide, pleading eyes. Joel's eyes darken as he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head towards his cock. "Open wide, and don't fuckin’ bite."

You comply, opening your mouth wide as Joel slides his cock inside. You moan as you feel him hit the back of your throat, your tongue swirling around his shaft as you suck him off.

Joel groans as he fucks your mouth, his hips thrusting forward as he pounds into the very back of your throat. You can feel his cock swelling inside of you, every vein hitting your tongue.

"Such a good little slut, suckin my cock like a pro."

You moan around his cock, your pussy getting wetter with every thrust.

"M’gonna come baby, and you're gonna swallow every last drop."

You nod eagerly, your mouth still wrapped around his cock. Joel groans as he explodes inside of you, his hot seed filling your mouth as you swallow every last drop just like he said. He pulls out, his cock still hard as he looks down at you with a satisfied smirk. "Good girl, you earned that."

Joel takes a moment to catch his breath before he walks over and starts to clear off the workbench. He pushes aside tools and spare parts, making enough space for you. Once he's satisfied, he turns to you with a stern look in his eyes. "Get up here," he commands, patting the now-clear space on the workbench.

You don't hesitate, hopping up onto the bench and spreading your legs wide for him. Joel steps between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips as he pulls you closer to the edge. "You've been a brat all day, teasin' me and temptin me," his fingers dig into your skin.

Joel's gaze is intense as he looks at you. His eyes are filled with desire and a hint of something darker. He leans in closer, his breath is hot on your skin as he starts to kiss a trail down your body, his lips leave a burning sensation in their wake.

His hands roam over your body, roughly groping anything he can as he continues to kiss and nip at your skin. You can feel his facial hair scratching against your sensitive flesh, and it sends shivers down your spine.

When he reaches your thighs, Joel smirks and spreads your legs wider, exposing your wet and aching core to his gaze and no panties - you drive him crazy. "You've been teasin' me all day, s’only fair. I get to taste what I've been missin.” He looks up at you, his eyes filled with lust as he leans in closer, his breath hot on your pussy. Without warning, Joel starts to lick and suck at your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves as he teases you. You moan loudly, your hips bucking up towards his mouth as you try to get closer to him.

Joel's fingers dig into your hips, holding you in place as his tongue delves deeper, exploring every inch of your pussy, sucking and licks at your wetness. Lapping it up like a thirsty dog. He continues to feast on your pussy, his tongue exploring every inch of your wetness as you moan and writhe beneath him. Just as you feel yourself getting close to the edge, Joel pulls away, leaving you wanting and needy.

"Uh-uh I ain't done with ya."

You whimper in frustration, and your hips buck up towards him as you try to get him to continue. But Joel is in control, and he's not going to let you come that easily. He stands up and looks down at you. You can see the hardness of his cock that's been tucked back into his jeans, and you know he's just as turned on as you are.

Joel reaches down and helps you off the workbench, his grip on you is firm as he leads you towards the door of the garage. "We're gonna finish this in your bedroom.”

Your body is still tingling with desire as you follow him out of the garage and towards your house.

As you reach the door of your house, Joel turns to you with a serious look in his eyes. "We gotta be quiet, go make sure the coast is clear.”

You quickly and quietly make your way through the house, checking each room to make sure no one is around. When you reach your father's office, you see that he's deeply engrossed in his work, completely unaware of what's happening just a few feet away.

You give Joel a quick nod, signaling that the coast is clear. Joel grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs to your bedroom, his grip firm, and reassuring. When you reach your bedroom, Joel pushes you inside and closes the door behind you, locking it to ensure that no one will interrupt you.

Joel looks around your bedroom, his eyes taking in the familiar surroundings. He turns to you, "Take off your clothes," he commands.

You hesitate for a moment, your hands hovering over your shirt. But the look in Joel's eyes tells you that he's not in the mood for games. As you slip out of your shirt, Joel's eyes rake over your body, taking in the lacy bra that barely covers your breasts.

"Keep goin,"

As you slip out of your jeans, Joel's eyes follow the movement, taking in the curve of your hips and the softness of your thighs.

"Take it all off baby," he commands.

You comply, slipping out of your bra and panties, leaving you completely naked in front of him.

Joel undresses himself, his movements quick and efficient. He pulls off his shirt, revealing the hard muscles of his chest and arms. His jeans follow, revealing the long and hard cock that's been tucked away, waiting so patiently for you.

You can't help but stare as Joel undresses, your eyes taking in the dirt and grease that cover his body. He's been working on his truck all day, and the evidence is clear on his skin.

"Like whatcha see, babygirl?"

You nod, unable to speak as you take in the sight of him. Joel steps closer to you, his hands reaching out to touch your body. His fingers leave dark stains across your skin, the evidence of his work still present.

He lays you down on the bed, and his body hovers over yours. His hands roam over your body. His touch is rough, but there's a tenderness to it that drives you crazy.

He leans down to kiss you, his lips rough against yours. His tongue delves into your mouth, exploring every inch as he tastes you. You can taste yourself on his lips, a reminder of what he's done to you.

Joel's hand moves between your legs, his fingers exploring your throbbing clit. He teases you, his fingers circling your clit but never quite touching it. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up towards his hand.

"Please, Joel," you beg, "I need to come."

But Joel is relentless, continuing to tease you just like you did to him, as he watches you squirm beneath him. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your orgasm building deep inside of you.

“Joel,” you whine, “don't be an asshole, let me come.”

Joel chuckles and gives you a light but sobering smack to the cheek. “You don't get to be a little brat and get your way - Beg for it.”

"Fuck you-," you whimper, your voice trembling with need. "Please daddy.”

Joel's eyes blaze as he hears you call him Daddy. He increases the pressure on your clit, his fingers moving faster and harder as he brings you closer to the edge again, he can feel it. "You like that, babygirl?" his breath is hot as he leans close to your ear. "You like it when Daddy teases you?”

“Mmm, yes daddy yes. Feels s-so good.”

Joel can't hold back any longer. He positions himself between your legs, his cock pressing against your wet and aching core. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with lust and something darker. He growls as he thrusts his hips forward, burying himself deep inside of you.

You moan loudly as you feel him fill you up, your pussy stretching to accommodate his ever growing, ever hardening size. Joel starts to move, his hips thrusting forward as he pounds into you. Each thrust is harder than the last, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

Joel's hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he fucks you. His fingers dig into your skin. You can feel his cock swelling inside of you, every vein hitting your sensitive flesh.

"You like it when Daddy fucks ya like the dirty little brat you are?"

You moan in response, your hips buck up to meet his thrusts. You can feel your orgasm building deep inside of you. “Want you to choke me daddy, please.”

Joel doesn't hesitate, he pulls out of you and flips you onto your stomach. He grabs your hair, pulling your head back as he wraps his other hand around your throat, cutting off your airway just enough to make you feel lightheaded.

You moan as you feel his cock press against your entrance once again. He thrusts forward, filling you up completely. He starts to fuck you hard and fast, his hips slapping against your ass as he pounds into you.

You can feel your orgasm building once again, your body tensing up as you get closer and closer to the edge. "Not yet, babygirl, fuck - wanna come with ya.” Joel increases his pace. His thrusts become erratic as he feels your pussy clenching around his cock, your orgasm just on the edge.

"Come for me, baby," Joel commands.

Your moans are muffled and strained as you feel yourself fall over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. You can feel your pussy clenching around Joel's cock, milking him for all he's worth.

Joel groans as he feels you come, his hips thrusting forward as he empties himself inside of you. He collapses beside you, his body spent and satisfied.

As he catches his breath, Joel looks at you with a satisfied smirk. "Next time you pull that shit, babygirl, I ain't gonna letcha come."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x f!reader

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beforeimdeceased · 2 months

Note

I would love an ellie x reader x abby fic, something super smutty, but modern day. I don’t mind unique details, I will give your free reign on those I just want something powerbottom abby x masc top ellie.

click me!

um okay. so this is actually so unnecessarily long like why did i do that also it’s terrible please don’t beat me up okay :( it’s um definitely something guys if u hate it i’ll delete it I SWEAR I SWEAR

inexperienced!lesbian (me asf) reader x ellabs, reader orgasm, lowkey mean ellabs but ignore that, i didn’t even do the request properly everyone throw tomatoes at me :(

2k words!

nsfw!

‧₊˚ 🎐✩ 🫧 ₊˚⊹♡

The time on your phone flashed 11pm, and underneath it was a flash flood weather warning. You had been watching the news closely and carefully, but even they didn’t predict this.

“I thought they said it would clear up around 10.” Ellie joins you on the couch, a bag of fruit gummies in her hand. You nod, but don’t take your eyes off of your phone. “That’s what i thought too. I don’t know, maybe I can make it home before it gets too bad.”

Just as the words leave your mouth, Abby walks back into the living room. She rips a piece of paper towel off of the stand in the kitchen, drying her hands. “Or you could spend the night here and not end up swimming home.”

Ellie snort laughs but you bite your lip. “I don’t want to intrude. Suddenly having someone else in your private space for longer than planned? Sounds overstimulating.”

Abby joins the both of you in the living room, a bottle of water in hand. She plops herself down on the loveseat, manspreading and leaning back. You feel a knot twist in your stomach. “I don’t mind having you here for longer. Els?”

Ellie tosses a gummy in her mouth before responding. “You’re a pleasure to be around.”

Abby and Ellie wanted to ease your nerves a bit, and proposed a game of two truths and a lie. Fairly simple, you tell a person two truths and one lie about yourself and they have to guess the lie. A half hour had passed and you felt yourself loosening up around them. Laughing at how ridiculous they were being.

“No, i swear it’s the truth. I shook hands with him and everything.” Ellie holds her hands up innocently, insisting she didn’t lie.

Abby shakes her head, bringing a hand up to rub her temples. “Ellie, you did not meet a robot at the grocery store. That man was probably lying to you for fun, or some social experiment.”

You giggle, watching as Ellie put a gummy to her tongue to wet it, then throws it at Abby. “Youre a jerk.”

Suddenly, Abby has lifted herself from her seat and is tickling Ellie’s sides. All of you have burst into laughter, tears rolling down your cheeks at their dynamic.

After Abby’s satisfied with herself, she lets up on Ellie, joining you both on the couch. “Okay, your turn.” Abby looks over at you, placing one of Ellie’s gummies in her mouth.

You take a moment to think of something clever, biting your lip. “Hm.”

“Okay I got it!” You exclaim.

The girls grant you their undivided attention, anticipating your answers. “Okay, so. I’m bilingual. I’m allergic to certain coins and, i’ve never been kissed.”

The two look over at each other, confusion all over their faces. “Fuck.” Ellie leans back. “I’m gonna have to say you’re lying about the coins.”

Abby shakes her head, shooting Ellie a side eye. “Seriously? The last one is obviously a lie, I mean look at her.” You feel yourself growing shy at her statement. “You guys sure about your answers?” You smile, raising your eyebrows.

They both nod, creepily at the same time, and it makes you laugh before your reveal. “I’m not bilingual! English is the only language i speak fluently, but i have been taking some Swedish lessons.”

Ellie bobs her head. “Shit, that’s cool. So wait, what coins are you allergic to?”

You don’t even get the chance to answer before Abby chimes up. “Wait, you’ve never been kissed?” She stares at you, bewildered. “Seriously?”

You nod. “I’m pretty inexperienced. I ofcourse, don’t like men, and I came out pretty late so…” You trail.

You can actually see the devious gears turn in Ellie’s mind. She looks over at Abby and it’s as if they’re communicating with their minds. You wonder for a moment if people truly do have powers, because it seems they came to a very silent agreement just now.

“Abby’s a wonderful kisser.” Ellie blurts out, smiling at the blonde. “And a pretty damn good teacher.”

Maybe they didn’t agree on everything, because after that statement Abby shot Ellie a look that could kill. Ellie just laughed it off, lovingly tapping her shoulder.

“Oh.” You whisper nervously, unsure how to respond. Truthfully, you had been admiring the two of them ever since you’d met them. You were so eager to visit their apartment tonight, making sure to spray on your best perfume. Wearing a cute new outfit that was casual but not loungey. Planning it on a day where you knew the weather would be bad, all with the hope that you’d get to spend the night.

You were also nervous, and inexperienced in this department. What if you fucked it all up?

“I’m sorry if we’ve made you uncomfortable.” Abby chimes up, noticing your body language. You were fiddling with your hands, avoiding their gaze. “I’ll make Ellie sleep in the old doghouse outside if that’d make you feel better.”

You giggle as Ellie hits Abby’s shoulder. “Hey, not out in the rain. Maybe in the closet in the hallway.”

“Oh, you’re going back in the closet?” Abby laughs which causes Ellie to roll her eyes. You watch them stick their tongues out at each other and feel warmth in their friendship.

“You guys didn’t make me uncomfortable. I just didn’t know what to say.” You blurt. The two of them stop goofing and look over at you. Ellie’s got a smug face. “Do you want Abby to teach you how to kiss?”

Butterflies, a swarm of them, rush to your stomach. You try not to look her up and down but your eyes betray you. Soaking in Abby’s tall muscular figure. The way her legs are spread open and wide like she’s daring you to sit in between them. Her blue eyes burning holes into your skin. Anticipating your answer. You bite your lip. “Yes.”

Abby remains composed, but Ellie’s enjoying herself way too much. Moving to the loveseat so that you and Abby can have the couch to yourselves. She looks at both of you, then at you, then at Abby, then at you again. “Wait, do you want me to go-?“

“No.” You say, a little faster than you mean to. “I mean, you don’t have to leave, if you don’t want to.”

Abbys only focused on you now. Eyeing you up and down as you scoot closer to her. “Here, get comfortable. Straddle me.”

You know Ellie’s looking. You can feel her piercing eyes on your spine. Watching your every move, examining you from behind. “Straddle?” You ask, a bit unsure. You’d read the word in a couple books, but never looked up the definition. You realized that was damning you now. Fucking up this very moment.

“Sit on my lap, facing me.” Abby guides you. “Put your legs outside my legs.”

So this was the tummy turning move you’d seen in porn. It felt as good as you’d imagined it would. Your hands latch onto Abby’s shoulders, looking into her pretty blue eyes.

“You okay?” She asks, hands gripping onto your waist to steady you. Her fingers are brushing against the skin underneath the hem of your shirt and the contact is driving you crazy. You just nod, too afraid to open your mouth, knowing your words will spill out. You’re everything but composed right now.

“Okay. Just let me know if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” She smiles.

You nod again, and establish an understanding. She moves a hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in, and places a soft peck on your lips. Truthfully, it wasn’t all that exciting but it sent jolts and waves of pleasure through your body. Your first kiss. She pulls away and smiles at you. “How was that?”

“Great- good. Grood.” You stammer. She chuckles a bit and you feel hot with embarrassment. “I meant to say- Fuck i don’t even know.”

She rubs at your sides, licking her lips and looking at you with low eyes. “Don’t worry about it, alright? You ready for more?”

“Yeah.” you breathe, head growing fuzzy from her touch. Her fucking touch, fuck. Gentle, but firm. Guiding you so carefully. So kindly.

“Okay. Open your mouth a little bit.” She whispers inches away from your face. “Yeah, just like that.”

You feel like you’re about to melt, a moan stuck in your throat, swallowed by the blonde. Her lips meshing with yours, guiding the kiss. The hand on your hip gripping tighter. She thrusts a bit, attempting to pull you in closer, and you whine into her mouth. This causes her to dig her nails into your skin, scratching at the tender surface.

By now, you’d forgotten Ellie was still in the room. You’d forgotten where you were, actually. Completely lost in a state of bliss. Her tongue on yours, teeth nibbling at your lip, touch making you weak.

She pulls away for air, and you remain leaning forward. Missing her lips on yours.

“Someone’s eager.” She teases. You bite your lip, scratching your nails on her scalp. “Sorry.” you breathe in a low voice. She shakes her head, tutting and rubbing your cheek. “Don’t apologize, it’s cute.”

Abby calls Ellie over, and you can feel her dip into the couch next to you both. Her cheeks are a flushed red and her eyes look fixated on you.

“Where are you the most sensitive?” Abby asks, shooting a small smile to Ellie.

“Why don’t we let me find out? Is that okay?” Ellie asks. You nod, breath growing heavy. There’s no fucking way this is real, you’re dreaming. You have to be. These two are working together to get you worked up.

You can sense Ellie behind you before you feel her hand slide under your neck. Fingertips on your chin, leaning your head to the side. She places a kiss behind your ear and it makes you shudder. “Fuck.”

They both laugh. This evil, menacing, condescending laugh and it’s making your thighs clench on Abby’s legs. “Ellie, you’re teasing the poor thing. She can’t handle it.” Abby places her hands on your thighs, spreading them apart as they were before.

“She can handle anything we give her, right?” Ellie’s moving her lips further down now. Trailing hot wet kisses down your neck, hands sliding up to grab your breasts through your shirt. You throw your head back, a soft whine escaping your lips.

“She’s so sensitive because she’s never been touched. Bet we can make her come without ever having to take her clothes off.” Abby’s hands begin sliding up and down your inner thighs. You feel a wetness pool in your underwear. “You’re probably right Abs. She’s already so worked up and we’ve barely done anything.”

Are they…mocking you? They’re fucking mocking you.

Ellie hums against your neck, hands slipping down to your leg, making you straddle Abby’s thigh. Abby places her hands back on your waist, hiking up your leg and making you grind against her.

You whine, head falling back against Ellie’s shoulder, but she offers no comfort or sanctuary. Hands kneading your tits while she leaves wet kisses on your jaw. “She’s probably soaked right now.” Ellie breathes.

Abby nods, admiring the way you give into their touch. So willing to be their fucktoy. She looks down at your crotch and hums. “She’s got a wet spot on her pants.”

“Such a shame. They look brand new. Now you’ve made a mess of yourself.”

It’s embarrassing to admit it, but you’re close now. The way your slick has covered your panties and is spreading all over your clit, Abby’s hands on your waist grinding you against her, Ellie’s mouth on you. Her hands on you. The way they’re talking about you like you’re not even there.

“I’m gonna-“ Can barely leave you lips before your climax hits you. You shake, dig your nails into Abby’s shoulder. Cry out an “Oh god, fuck!” and roll your eyes back as they help you ride your high.

Your body goes limp while you try to catch your breath. Everything is sensitive and you feel like you’d just seen stars.

“You did so good, baby.” Abby leans in to kiss you, and then Ellie behind you. “Ready for round two?”

Round what?

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buryustogether · 1 year

Text

lilac - chapter 1

miguel o’hara x f!reader

summary: the father of one of your students is acting rather strangely - but when he smiles at you, you can’t help but forget your own name.

wc: 6k

warnings/tags: mentions of blood and violence, swearing, pining, stripping, strip club, sex workers, sexual fantasy, smut, thigh riding, fingering, oral (f! receiving), pet names, dom!miguel, single father!miguel, teacher!stripper!reader

author’s note: set in the universe where miguel replaces his father!variant with himself. ps - planning on turning this into a series/full fic.

New York

Earth - 9193

Since you could remember, the sky above the city, flecked with struggling stars and choking on itself over clouds of smog like cigarette smoke, had been deep purple. Some called it violet. Others named it plum. They were trying to make a prettier picture of an ugly reality, desperately ignoring the real world that held them captive. The purple held every soul in this city on a taut leash; each time someone was given a little slack, they wandered too far and discovered that, really, they hadn’t ever wanted to stray in the first place. Car bombings every week. Shootings. Back alley guttings. Innocence all but a foreign language to the citizens of New York.

You wished with every bit of you that one day you’d be able to escape and see the real color of the sky. Because deep down you knew, wanted to believe, wished and prayed… that it was not this shade of dark.

Your classroom was one of the only lit rooms here in Washington Elementary School, a beacon through dimly-lit hallways and the even dimmer streets outside your windows. A long, silent exhale managed to escape your lips as you continued to grade your third graders’ spelling tests, using a pink pen to correct their mistakes instead of a red one. You figured it was less harsh, more inviting to be open to learning from where they first failed. Your back was beginning to cramp from sitting in these damn little-kid chairs, your knees practically hugged to your chest due to how low to the floor you were. You would have been at your desk - hell, you would have been home getting ready for your second job right about now - had it not been for the young girl sitting across the table from you.

Gabriella O’Hara was, in your opinion, one of the most intelligent children you’d had the pleasure of teaching. She was quick and clever and friendly, not to mention, captain of her little soccer team funded by the taxes of PTA parents and the grumbling millionaires of the city. She was a frequent flier on your good-behavior list, and her name had made a home for itself on the principal’s honor roll long before she’d landed in your class.

She was a sweetheart, to say the least. She had been raised well by her father - who, uncharacteristically, had been a no show when it came time for pick up two hours ago.

Glancing up from your papers, you smiled gently at Gabriella as she scribbled along her homework page. “Briella, honey,” you said and leaned your chin in your hand. “Why don’t you check to see if your dad texted at all.”

Obediently, Gabriella dug her phone - a little flip-type, despite there being hundreds of smartphones out these days - and clicked the button to scroll through her recent texts. You watched as her face fell, thick brows and full lips pulling downward. “Nothing,” she said and placed her phone back. She looked to you, and it was obvious from the way she squirmed in her seat that her nervous stomach was starting to get the better of her. “I’m kind of scared, Miss Y/N. My daddy’s never late.”

Setting down your pink pen, you reached across the table and placed a hand on her small forearm. You’d stayed late before when parents were late for pick up, or they forgot, or they were too stoned out of their minds to bother, but you had to admit, you were rather worried, as well. Her father had never been late once, not even by five minutes. So two hours was, really, something to bat an eye at. “I’m sure everything’s fine,” you assured her and offered a gentle smile. “He probably just got held up at work. Maybe his phone died.” Your gaze flickered briefly to the windows behind her, strung across with colorful drawings and decorations, as a number of wailing police cars zipped past. When she started to follow your eyes, you added quickly, “I bet he’s on his way right now. Why don’t you finish up your homework so you can have the rest of the evening free when you get home.”

As she went back to her work, you found yourself tapping your fingernail against the table, your gaze stuck to an empty corner across the room. Miguel O’Hara was nothing but punctual, not just to everyday events like after-school pick up, but to every single thing he did. Soccer practice and games. Parent-teacher conferences. Hell, you wouldn’t put it past him to be an hour early to that fancy job of his at Alchemax every Monday through Friday. He was a perfectionist, signing every grade card check and permission slip with the neatest signature you’d ever seen. And it was a feat to marvel at, considering he was a single father.

Once, at a soccer practice, you’d heard from a few of the mothers who had nothing better to do than gossip that he’d moved himself and Gabriella over from Queens years ago when he was hired as a geneticist. Her mother had apparently left them when she was born, and he’d done everything from that moment on for the good of his little girl.

You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself he was, by far, the best-looking man you’d ever laid eyes on. Cheekbones placed high on his face, wide, broad shoulders, a sinewy frame that nearly challenged the doorframes he walked through. He was friendly, sure. But that was all you knew. You’d never been able to get close enough to know much else. An enigma to your curious mind, Miguel was nothing short of a puzzle that you desperately wanted to put together and see the bigger picture for yourself.

Shaking your head slightly, you forced yourself to wind back into the present. God, you needed to get a fucking grip. Crushing on the father of one of your students? Fucking pathetic. You had a boyfriend, for God’s sake.

You had just begun to grade your papers again, nearing the end of your stack, when there came the sounds of footsteps pounding against the tile floor of the hallway outside. They were jogging, approaching your room at an alarming rate. You stood, thinking it was the janitor having locked himself out of his closet again, and prepared to fetch your keys when a much different - yet no less welcome - figure filled the doorway.

“Hi, daddy,” said Gabriella as Miguel O’Hara entered your classroom.

You looked up, lips parted as you took him in. God, he was stunning. Somewhere around six feet with dark, somewhat-tamed hair that matched his tan skin and the thick brows sitting above his sloped eyes, he stood with a chest that rose and caved rapidly, like he’d run through the entire school searching for your room. Which he shouldn’t have - he knew the classroom his own daughter was in. Didn’t he?

“Oh, baby,” Miguel said and rounded the table so quickly you could have blinked and missed it. He hauled her up into his arms like she was nothing but a sack of flour and hugged her tight to his chest, almost like he was trying to mold the feeling of her to himself. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I lost track of time. I’m so sorry.” As if just realizing you were in the room, watching the pair with a small smile, he set his daughter back down and pulled her backpack from the back of her chair. “Pack up your things, okay? We’ll go home in just a minute.”

He approached you where you stood beside your desk loading your purse, and you swore your heart skipped a beat as he towered over you. Thick, corded muscles and a frame that made your stomach churn excitedly, he was the perfect picture of a fucking masterpiece. “Hi,” he said in a low tone, meant for you to hear and not Gabriella. “I’m so sorry for keeping you here. Time got away from me, and when I got here, the front doors were locked.” He took a breath. “Thank you. For watching her, I mean.”

Forcing your heart to calm its thundering in the confines of your chest, you grinned up at him brightly. “It’s not a problem, Mister O’Hara. I was happy to.” You decided to say nothing about the fact that it was unlike him to lose track of time. He wore a watch that you recognized as one of the latest, expensive versions that were magnetic, not electric, so it was incapable of stopping. How exactly did time get away from a man who revolved around it? “I’m sure she’s going to crash when you get home, anyway. She had a big day.”

Miguel blinked a few times and placed a hand on his hip, jutting it out slightly. Fuck, you wished he wouldn’t do that. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm. We had a soccer scrimmage against one of the other classes today and she pulled the winning goal. Then there was the assembly over fire safety, but I’m sure you saw that in the handout last week.”

His lips remained parted for a long moment as his dark, umber gaze traveled across the stack of next week’s announcement handouts. “Right,” he said after a moment or two. “Right. Do, uh… do you think I could have another one of those? For this week. And maybe next week’s, too. Has that been sent home already?”

Giving him a rather crooked smile, you opened a drawer in your desk and produced the light green paper with last week’s announcements. Then you stacked it beneath next week’s and extended it toward his hulking frame. “Sorry if this seems a little… personal, Mister O’Hara,” you said as he took the papers, “but are you feeling alright? I really don’t mean any offense, but you seem a little… off.”

Tilting his head slightly, Miguel seemed to hesitate, fumbling with his answer in his head. He was frozen for a brief moment before your attentions were drawn across the classroom, where Gabriella zipped up her backpack and began to trudge toward the door. “I’m alright,” he said as he turned back to you. “I just, uh… I hit my head this morning. Been a little out of sorts, but I’ll be alright.”

“Daddy,” whined Gabriella under her breath. “I’m tired.”

“Okay, princesa,” he said and met her at your door. After slinging her backpack over his own shoulder and taking her hand, he glanced back at you. “Thank you again…” You watched as his eyes flickered to your name written across the whiteboard. “...Miss Y/N.”

“You’re welcome, Mister O’Hara.” A few more words sat on your tongue, desperately trying to fight against your lips and jump out before the moment escaped. You tried to fight them down, but eventually they won the battle and spilled forth. “And - and you can just call me Y/N.”

Miguel stared at you for a moment, and you thought briefly that you had crossed a line you had been unable to see. Then he smiled gently, his full lips spreading into a gentle grin. He opened his mouth to say something in return before Gabriella pulled him out the door and into the hallway. You listened as their voices and the sounds of their footsteps grew quieter before silencing, then turned away and finished gathering your things.

On your way out of the building, while slipping through the front doors, you noticed the steel bolt lock keeping them shut after dark had been snapped entirely in two - as if someone had pulled on the door hard enough to break the lock on their own.

You figured it to have been a couple students who got their hands on their parents’ bolt cutters and made a mental note to ask the janitor for a replacement.

Once you got to your car and flipped the engine, you took a breath and glanced at yourself in the mirror. In that breath, you willed yourself to switch into the alternate persona you took on after the school days, after the sun had set and the night really came alive from its demented, hungover state during the lightest hours. You pushed your students into the back of your mind, your plans for tomorrow and upcoming projects and due dates into the recesses of your brain. You shoved back thoughts of Miguel O’Hara and everything about how much you wanted to fucking reverse time so that he could smile at you like he had tonight all over again.

It was time to really work, now.

The Menagerie was a club on the northeast side of the Financial District, where the warehouse fires and muggings weren’t quite as common. Police forces cruised through here more often than, say, Harlem or Queens; the people who ran the city had to keep their most well-paid workers protected and thriving, right? Who else would steal from the hands of the poor and throw it all away the first chance they got?

Thrumming, thundering music like a pulse, like the club itself was alive with the blood of money and alcohol pumping through it, pounded from speakers and shook the walls in their very foundations. Neon lights like jilted, water-colored sunlight shone from corners along the ceilings, creating shadows like both nightmares and dreams along the walls and the faces of the patrons. The bar was overflowing. Security was chasing their own tails. The place was packed. Everyone who was anyone wanted to get into The Menagerie, because between its four walls and roof, you could be anyone you wanted to be.

It was law in this gilded cage that everyone was to wear a mask, its paint and diamonds and ribbons designed to depict animals. Security wore the full-bodied faces of lions. Bartenders and servers played dress-up with rimmed eye gaps as raccoons. Guests were allowed to pick a mask ranging from creatures that roamed the sky to those that crawled the earth. And the girls - the girls were exotic, majestic things that no one would mistake for anything else. They were tigresses and peacocks, they were arctic foxes and lynxes, any animal that had long since gone missing or extinct in this world of yours. Why go searching for the real thing, when they could come here and find the women?

The Menagerie was not a club. It was a cage, for animals so desperate to get out they had bent the bars in an attempt to escape.

Staring at yourself in the mirror of the dressing room, you gingerly affixed the golden mask to your face so that it would stay spread across your features while you danced and entertained. The hard, fake porcelain covered your forehead and nose, leaving your mouth free for the lips and tongues that would attempt to claim yours as their own. Orange and gold butterfly wings blossomed from the center of the mask, disguising you as the endangered insect everyone else seemed to have forgotten about; the Monarch. Fluttering and beautiful upon the wind, never easy to catch.

That was, unless they flew right into a spider’s web.

To your left, a few of the other girls were perfecting their makeup and adjusting their outfits - what little outfits you all had. Zara, known throughout the club as the Panther, caught your eye in the mirror and flashed you a sharp smile.

“You seem quiet tonight,” she said and ran a stick of gloss over her lips. She examined herself close in her handheld. “Something on your mind?”

A few of the other girls tried to inconspicuously listen in, able to sniff out gossip from miles away. Perhaps in here, you all were a little bit more animal than human, after all.

Forcing yourself to smile gently, you waved a ring-garnished hand in Zara’s direction and turned back to your reflection. You hardly recognized yourself like this, despite seeing this version of you all week long. You hoped you never did recognize it. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you brushed off.

Across the dressing room, Shawna, the Owl, tisked her tongue and hummed from deep in her throat. “You know you’re an awful liar, girl,” she said from where she sat scrolling through her phone. “We all noticed when you came in an hour later than you do. Something happen tonight?”

Well, fuck. Now everyone was waiting for your answer, waiting to see if it was worth listening into or not.

Pursing your lips in an attempt to show that it was no big deal, despite how much your stomach and your heart and your brain screamed that it wasn’t, you shrugged a shoulder and tried to avoid their gazes. “Nothing too big,” you replied and began to absentmindedly twist the ribbon keeping your mask in place. “Just… had a student stay a little later. Her dad lost track of time.”

“It couldn’t be that Alchemax hunk you’ve been telling us about.”

Fuck - you really learned to keep your cards closer to your chest.

Your silence must have been enough for them to connect the pieces, because a few of them tittered and giggled. A newer girl, who was still earning her way up to being on stage, piped up. “Have you ever talked to him?” she asked. “I mean, besides school-related stuff. Find out if he’s attached?”

“Absolutely not,” you forced out and stood to straighten out your costume. Your breasts were barely covered by the flimsy top and your ass hung out of the bottoms, both orange and black and white, like a monarch butterfly’s designs. Gold fishnet stockings lined your legs, leading down to a set of heels that had taken weeks to not tip over in. You were supposed to wear a cape, a gown-like train, but it was stepped on too much for you to bother with it. “He’s not there to cruise teachers, he’s just trying to help his kid through the third grade.”

“More than you could’ve asked from my dad,” Zara puffed.

God, you thought, yours, too. And your mother, while you were at it. They’d never come to meetings and games and plays like Miguel did. Hell, they hardly ever even remembered to pick you up from school on their good days.

Gabriella really had hit the father lottery.

Shawna shrugged her shoulders as she rose from her seat and picked up her own mask. “Even if that’s all he’s there for,” she said, then pulled the owl-designed porcelain over her face and fixed you with a stare through the eye holes, “doesn’t have to hold you back from at least trying.”

Her words rang in your ears as you carried on with your work that evening. They stuck with you as you danced for drooling men and women who oggled at you from behind their masks, as you ran your fingers down arms to chase bigger tips, as you followed a man who paid top dollar for a private dance.

Her words rattled like bells in your head as you mindlessly ground yourself against your customer, allowing yourself to get lost in your own imagination while you willed yourself to work. You shut your eyes behind your mask and let yourself fall into a dangerous little scenario you cooked up just for yourself.

You imagined not your boyfriend, who was out there in the city somewhere playing with his stupid fucking band to a crowd of three, not of any celebrity crush or model, but of Miguel O’Hara. You imagined him beneath you instead of some man whose breath smelled like expensive alcohol. You thought of him, and his hulking frame, and his powerful thighs you had found yourself staring at anytime he entered your line of sight.

Mind running away with this little fantasy of yours, you ground yourself a little harder against the lap beneath you, pushed your chest further against the chest parallel to yours. In your head, Miguel let out a huffy breath and rested those large hands of his on your hips, slowly but surely guiding your movements until you were riding his thigh. You tried to imagine, so intensely and desperately, how such an event would go.

He would gently, but firmly, help move your hips so that your exposed clit rubbed perfectly against the rough fabric of his jeans. You would keen and arch your back into him, hands running over his sinewy shoulders, as he hitched his leg and sent a powerful jolt of pleasure running through you and right to your core.

“You like that, pretty girl?” he would murmur in your ear, lips brushing along the shell before his tongue, warm and soft and pink and wet, licked against your lobe. “Ride, querida. ‘Til I say you’re done, and then I’ll show you how a real man fucks.”

You would grind your hips against his leg, moaning aloud and unabashedly when he tensed his corded muscle so that you’d have something to hump into. His hands, wide and spread, would wander along your bare back, memorizing the skin there like it was his and his alone, and he would dip his head to attach his lips to your nipple. He’d suck the nub into a hardened bud, then kiss and lick and nibble the skin around it until it was marred with love marks that would darken the following morning, and then he’d switch and give the other one the same kind of attention.

“Miguel,” you’d whimper in a certain kind of tone, and suddenly you’d be on the bed, pulled to the edge so that the globes of your ass hung off and when he kneeled he had access to your cunt bared for him.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he would say as he pressed open-mouthed kisses up and up your inner thighs, getting closer to where you needed him most. “All for me and me alone. Isn’t that right, bebe?”

You wouldn’t be able to give him a clear answer at first, not when he would lick a long, wet stripe up the center of your folds and up to your clit. He would expertly find that little bundle of nerves, wrapping his lips around it and fondling with his tongue until you couldn’t do anything but sigh and moan and card your fingers through his dark hair to pull him closer. He would suck on your sweet spot for a while, alternating between licking stripes and adorning it with kisses, before he would slowly drag his long, thick fingers toward your sopping folds.

But he would stop just short.

“Say it,” he would tell you, dark, impenetrable gaze fixated on you from where he kneeled between your legs like a devout believer praying to his one and only love - his goddess. When you would whine and cry from the pausing of his ministrations, he would take his mouth, his wonderful, hot breath, away from your aching cunt. He would cock his head, allowing a bit of hair to fall across his face. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to, chica.”

“Miguel,” you would say again, because, really, that was all you could think of to say. “Miguel, please… need you, please…”

He would pull his fingers from your heat, gaze stony and immovable as a mountain standing tall in the midst of a storm. God, not even that could sway him. “Tell me,” he would demand again, this time in a low baritone that made your cunt clench around nothing because goddammit, even his fucking voice could send you into heat like a damn dog. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to. Now.”

“You,” would come the small, high-pitched answer, tumbling from your lips without another thought that did not involve him. “You, Miguel. Belongs to you. All for you, no one else.” You would babble, desperate to reach your climax before he let you fall back down that incline so, so cruelly, yet so, so deliciously. “Please, Miguel, need you. Need your fingers, anything. Just fuck me, please, handsome, fuck me ‘til I can’t remember my own name.”

He would tilt his head even further, like a predator toying with the prey he’d been chasing after for miles upon miles, before placing a gentle, feather-light kiss upon the inside of your thigh. “That’s my girl,” he would say, then attack your clit with his full, thick lips, plunge two of his fingers into your heat, and begin to fuck you into oblivion.

The sound of his fingers constantly edging in and out of your dripping pussy, so wet you could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs and your ass, would pull the most wonderful and pornographic-sounding moans and whimpers and whines of his name from your throat. Your own slick would coat his digits like honey, so sweet that for a moment he would stop his assault on your divine bundle of nerves and crane his neck to lick up a bit of it from where it dripped down your ass. The flat of his muscle would raise goosebumps along your skin as you cried out for him, one hand gripping his hair and the other buried into the sheets of the bed.

“Miguel,” you would cry and begin to rock your hips to meet the thrusts of his fingers, practically humping his face. He would take it like it was his last meal, returning to his sucking and licking and circling of your clit to send bolt after bolt of pleasure and heaven and everything else in between. “Miguel, Miguel, Miguel…!”

“That’s it,” he would murmur between licks through your soaked folds, feeling as your slick dripped down his wrist. “Say my name, bebe, tell them who’s making you feel this fucking good.”

He would angle his fingers then at just the right angle, his fingertips hitting that perfect, fucking perfect spot deep inside you. Stars would dance in your vision as your mouth would open in a silent scream, unable to get anything out but a tiny wail of heavenly pleasure. You would swear you’d never felt this goddamn good in your life, like you would gladly trade everything in the whole world just to stay here forever. His pace would pick up, aiming for that spot inside of you, and he’d lap at your cunt in a feverish craze, like it was the only thing that would save him from losing his mind.

All too soon, your thighs would begin to tremble and you would feel that beautiful, familiar coil tightening and winding deep within your soul. “Miguel,” you would cry out for the whole world to hear. “Miguel, m’close, I’m so close!”

“Come on, pretty bebe,” he would say between your thighs that would try to wrap around his head in a feeble attempt to pull him closer. “Cum f’me. I want it. All of it.”

His words would send a shockwave of pleasure through you, one that would white out your vision so intensely you would have thought he’d killed you and sent you on your way to the pearly white gates, and you’d have been okay with that. He continued to work you through your orgasm, his pace slowing but never stopping, his mouth pressing hot, wet kisses along your thighs, your hips, your naval.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. Taking it so well, all for me. Look so pretty all laid out like this, like I could just eat you up. Would you like that, hmm? You want me to just devour you ‘til you’re left shaking and crying my name?”

“Miguel. Miguel, Miguel, Miguel…!”

“...My name’s not Miguel.”

Your eyes flashed open, suddenly brought back to the real world, pulled away from your fantasy. Through the holes in your monarch mask, you looked down to find your customer staring up at you with wide eyes and popping a boner put there by your mindless rocking against his hips. Feeling your cheeks flush, you slipped off of him and consciously tugged your outfit lower over your ass.

You pursed your lips, attempting to hide how mortified you were. “...That’s going to be another twenty bucks.”

It wasn’t until around one in the morning when you got home to your little apartment squished in a dilapidated little building wedged between two office towers because the landlord had refused to sell the place when they steamrolled the others ten years ago. The lights were off when you slipped inside, and a little piece of yourself inside wilted.

At once, you threw up a wall and dismissed that sinking feeling. Of course he wasn’t going to wait up for you. He’d had a show tonight, and he had another one tomorrow. He was tired.

Not nearly as fucking tired as you, though.

After wiping off your makeup and pulling off the fake little diamonds stuck on your temples, after changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth, and after pinning a new drawing from one of your students on the fridge despite the fact you knew they’d never see it, you tiptoed back to the cramped little bedroom. You poked your head inside. Ferris, your boyfriend of six months, was spread out across the entire mattress, snoring gently into the fabric of the crumpled sheets.

You swallowed thick. You didn’t want to disturb him. He needed his rest.

You grabbed your phone charger from the wall and your pillow from beneath his arm, then slid on your socks back into the tiny living room. Plopping yourself down on the couch and plugging in your phone, you rolled yourself onto your side and stared at the dark screen. Willing something to happen. Something to come up, someone to reach out.

Because in reality, though you would rather throw yourself off the Brooklyn Bridge than admit it… you had never felt so alone.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #spiderman #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #sony spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv miguel

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sarahowritesostucky · 2 months

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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, non-con, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", mating, breeding, hate to strong affection, yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the alpha who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

Masterlist

Daddy's Home (Series teaser)

Episode 1: A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat: Just like Her Mommy

Episode 2: Taking Back What's His

Episode 3: The Lap of Luxury

Episode 4: Motherhood Suits You

Episode 5: Should've Done this Years Ago

Epilogue: A Storybook Romance Once Again

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" shlyukha = "slut" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" milashka = "cutie patootie" malen'kiy = "little one" malyshka = "little girl" pchelka = "little bee"

@cjand10, @violetwinterwidow01, @ppbhquinn, @myfavbuckyfics, @liannafae, @sadsackssss, @timidquindim, @dakotali, @rayofdawnworld, @wintrsoldrluvr, @lindasweetie

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purpleturtle9000 · 1 year

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I've gotta show off a little more of Clever Girl cause I'm having the time of my life with sibling interactions

“So they’re attacking people and you’re just cool with this?” Casey frowns at Raph, then Leo.

“Yeah, we’re cool with it,” Raph growls. “There’s nothing wrong with her, she’s just a spitfire.”

“Anthropomorphising the dinosaurs is not helping,” Donnie tells him.

“Shut up, nerd.”

Well, he knows when he’s not wanted.

#fic: clever girl #bayverse tmnt #bayverse casey #bayverse raph #bayverse donnie

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zablife · 4 months

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Seamstress, Secretary, Sex-worker, Spy

John x female reader

Summary: You've been seen with John numerous times and now the Shelby family is getting suspicious. Who are you and what's your true relationship to John?

Author’s Note: This was requested by a lovely anon. Tysm for the idea! I hope you don't mind that I wrote them as headcanons. I haven't had much time for full fics recently.

Warnings: language, mention of smut

🌹The first time someone sees you with John you're collecting the laundry, a large basket at your hip piled high with all his unwashed shirts. "Have we got a new washerwoman in town, Charlie?" Curly asks, scratching his head as he sees you passing on the street.

"Don't look like any washerwoman I ever saw," Charlie says ogling you.

💌The second time, you're in the betting shop, nibbling on the end of a pencil as you think of a clever note to leave on John’s desk. Linda rolls her eyes as she complains, "Perfect, they've sent me another useless idiot who can't do simple maths." When you disappear, she assumes you quit. "Thanks be to Jesus for that," she mutters under her breath.

❤️ The third time your presence is much harder to miss, a sharp cry of pleasure erupting from the snug in the Garrison. "Has John got a whore in there?" Isaiah asked, turning to Finn with a wicked smirk. Their suspicions seemed to be confirmed when you left minutes later, money in hand and a smoldering kiss to send you on your way.

🌹 The mystery of your presence remains in the following days and soon Tommy becomes suspicious as well. “I knew he was spending too much time in Solomons’ territory,” he grumbles, pacing the floor of his office. “What if that dodgy fucker sent her here?"

"A spy?" Polly chuckles as she leans back in her chair.

"Why not use a pretty girl to turn his head?," Tommy reasoned with a huff of frustration. When she rolled her eyes in return he shouted, "Everyone knows John thinks with his cock!"

💌 The family meeting begins without John who appears twenty minutes late, stuffing his shirt into the back of his trousers. Running to the meeting from your arms is difficult enough, but now the entire family is boring holes into him, expecting an explanation. When they begin telling him of their suspicions, his mouth drops open.

"You being serious, Tom?" he asks. "All of you?" he looks around the room aghast. Slowly everyone nods. "Bloody hell..." his voice drops as removes his cap and drops into a chair crestfallen.

❤️ Polly begins to look worried, leaning forward at the table to ask, "John, if this girl is going to be trouble, we need to know."

"Always thinking the worst, ain't ya?" he answers bitterly. Then he shakes his head with a little laugh, which angers Arthur first.

"You fucking laughing at us? Finn and Isaiah saw you pay the little tart! What's that about, eh?" he grumbles, anger contorting his face.

"What the fuck did you call her?" John seethes, lunging for his brother. A scuffle breaks out between them which Tommy and Uncle Charlie have to stop before either of them can land a punch.

🌹 John straightens his clothes as he begins, "Yeah, she's my girl. But she ain't a whore and she ain't a spy for Alfie fucking Solomons either alright? Moved to Saltley two years ago with her mum. I had it checked out....'M not as stupid as everyone thinks." He sniffs and takes a look around the room to see disbelief still hanging in the air. "Why is that so hard for you to believe?"

Polly places a hand on his arm, "We're listening, go on."

💌John's eyes soften as he speaks of you. "She takes care of me, does the laundry and shopping, leaves me kind notes..." Eyes glazing slightly at the memory he turns to Arthur adding, "Sucks me dry, I swear to God. Yesterday I thought--"

"We believe you," Polly interjects with a firm nod. Turning to her other nephew she states, "Tommy, I think this item of business is closed."

❤️ You're invited to the next family dinner as a way to placate John, but also for the others to get to know you. When they do, they adore you instantly and John is rightfully vindicated. "Shouldn't have doubted me," John reminds them.

"I know. I was wrong to say you were only thinking with your cock," Tommy apologizes.

"No, I was thinking with me cock, but for once it was the right decision," John admits with a wink.

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

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@wandawiccan60

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@christinasyellowflowers

@notyour-valentine

@theshelbyclan

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@jomarch-wannabe

@the-fangirl-diaries

@kmc1989

@everythingelseisextra

@stilestotherescue

@helen06dreamer

@chaosinkest1996

@pietroxreader

@darklydeliciousdesires

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@cillmequick

@runnning-outof-time

@dandelionprints

@peakyltd

@call-sign-shark

@brummiereader

@holacia3

@kmhappybunny240

@mgcldydrms

@mythos-writes

@look-at-the-soul

#John Shelby fanfic #John Shelby imagine #John Shelby x you #John Shelby x y/n #John Shelby x reader #John Shelby

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mountainsandmayhem · 1 month

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Tess's Treasures

18+, MDNI

Pairing: Tess x Joel x OC!Female x Female!Reader Summary: After perfecting the art of pickpocketing, you’re invited to join Tess’s Treasures. They’re infamous around the QZ and the initiation process is not what you expect, but exactly what you need. CW: If you’re not into foursomes/bi girl shit then you are in the wrong place. MFFF, bisexual females, fingering, masturbating, oral, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink. Unprotected p in v. Overstim and squirting. Please read this at your discretion. If this isn’t for you, that’s perfectly fine. AN: You can thank @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for being good little girls and filling my mind with depraved and twisted thoughts. This fic has truly been a labour of love, taking me almost 6 weeks to put together and edit. I'm not the least bit sorry about the word count, grab a snack, probably some electrolytes and maybe some spare batteries lol. Special shoutouts to @pedritoferg for their kind words when my imposter syndrome had the best of me. As always, dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Friendly reminder that I'm phasing out my tag list, follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for new fics.

Word Count: 9005

Becoming one of Tess’s Treasures seemed like a fallacy, a pipe dream. A fairytale life only reserved for the most vicious females that prowl the shady streets of the Boston QZ, and you aren’t a killer. A thief, yes; but not a killer. Truthfully, you weren’t even sure if the organization existed. Sure, Tess was a real person, but did she actually have a horde of women she called her Treasures?

She was infamous in the seedy underbelly of Boston, her and her henchman Joel. Granted, no one ever seemed to see Joel, unless he was about to kill you. And sometimes not even then, he was often hiding in the shadows, shadows darker than the demons that allegedly haunted him.

Outbreak day happened when you were just little, you don’t remember much of the journey from your old hometown to Boston. Everyone here is poor, doing what they can to get credits to buy basic human needs; making trades and swaps were what most people did. You, however, were much more clever. After discovering a book detailing the art of sleight of hand you started practicing, and now you can take anything, right in front of someone's eyes, without them noticing.

Or so you thought. After stealing a pistol from a FEDRA officer and replacing it with a banana, all while having a conversation with him in broad daylight, Tess approaches you.

“Come to my apartment next week. I wanna see if you have what it takes. Mum’s the word.” It’s a hushed whisper as she passes you, slipping a small card in your back pocket as she goes.

You follow the cards' instructions, arriving at the exact time, going up to the top floor and then doing two quick, sharp knocks on the worn out door.

“Enter,” Tess says from inside. The door creaks on your way in. It’s the hottest day Boston has seen in years, and even in your small sundress, the room is stifling hot. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and something else that you can’t quite put your finger on. There’s a fan oscillating in the corner, the paint chipped off the cage that protects the blades. As it blows warm air past you, you realize that the other smell is sex.

Tess is sitting on the couch to the right of the door, two mismatched wooden kitchen chairs in front of her. Straight ahead from the door is a small kitchen, and to the back left of the studio style apartment is the bed. Unmade, sheets tousled like someone just woke up, but based on the heady taste of the air in the room, the messy sheets are definitely from two people rolling around in them.

“Come sit,” Tess says firmly. You click the door shut behind you and head to the empty chair that’s waiting for you. The other chair is occupied by a small brunette woman. She has long slender limbs and doesn’t look like someone who would hang out with raiders, poachers and drug runners. Her hands are folded in her lap, ankles crossed under the chair. She doesn’t look over at you.

Tess leans forward, spreading her denim clad legs wide and resting her elbows on her knees. “Do you two know who I am?”

You both nod slowly. Up close, Tess is terrifying. She could have you killed with just a snap of her fingers, and Joel would do it however she wanted. From what you’ve heard, very slowly was her favourite way to have people eliminated from this earth. Quick deaths weren’t something she enjoyed when someone had fucked her over.

“Speak!” she commands. The brunette jumps and even though you’ve mastered the art of pushing your fears down and masking your emotions, a small butterfly flaps its wings behind your navel.

“Yes,” you say hoarsely as a meek ‘yes ma’am’ sounds beside you.

“Good. So then you know the….perks of being one of my Treasures,” Tess’s eyes twinkle as she says perks like she knows something you don’t. Like it’s more than the better living arrangements, food and medical care. Better than a sense of family and belonging.

She continues, “I’ve seen both of you at work. You,” her steel grey eyes are laser focused on yours, “With your quick hands, and you,” she adjusts her attention to the petite woman beside you, “With your ability to talk a man into almost anything. Before you can officially call yourself my Treasures, there’s a small matter of your…” Her voice trails, mouth ticking up on one side as she cocks her head and drags her eyes across both of your bodies.

“Well, your initiation.” She leans back onto the couch, knees falling wider. One arm drapes across the back, the worn cushion deflating slightly. The other rests on her thick, toned thigh. “I take care of my girls, but they need to show me that they can listen.”

The air seems thicker, and harder to fill your lungs with. Every move of her eyes is suggestive. Is she saying what you think she’s saying? You feel yourself begin to soak through your panties at the possibility of getting to fuck.

You aren’t left wondering for long as she points a long finger at the girl beside you, “Stand up, take off your clothes.”

“W-what?” the girl sputters.

“I said to stand up and take off your fucking clothes,” the words almost seem to burn as she repeats herself.

The girl stands so quickly that the chair falls, making a loud crash against the worn hardwood flooring. She stares at Tess for a moment, unsure if she should pick up the chair before she decides against it and pulls her blue cotton baby tee off, revealing a lacy white bra underneath.

“That’s it,” Tess groans. “Take off those little shorts next.”

With shaky hands she moves to the button fly, each drag of the metal on denim seems to echo in the silent room. Tess licks her lips as she slides her shorts down her legs and kicks them to the side. “Come here,” Tess says, her voice already husky and deep. The woman walks over to Tess, stopping between her spread legs. Tess’s strong fingers grip the girl's hips and she gasps. “Turn around,” she urges, dragging her fingers along her hips as the mystery girl spins.

“What’s your name?” Tess asks. The girl's bright green eyes land on you and you see her breath hitch in her slender throat. She’s petite, probably a few inches shorter than you and at least a foot shorter than Tess. You’ve always been attracted to both men and women and there’s no denying that this little stranger is absolutely stunning.

“Lydia,” she croaks.

“Are you nervous, Lydia?” Tess asks, cupping the globes of her ass in her hands, kneading and squeezing. Spreading them gently, exploring what she’s about to claim as hers.

She nods her head and lets out a shaky moan of agreement.

“Go pick up your chair and sit down, Lydia.” Tess swats her bum as she walks away and Lydia yelps quietly.

Tess’s eyes now come to you. Staring straight into your soul. I’m sure if she could, her eyes would incinerate your clothes right off of you. It’s intoxicating. You, unlike Lydia, are not nervous. Not in the slightest. If anything, Tess’s attention on you only makes you wetter. Your panties are practically soaked through already. “And you, my little thief. What’s your name?”

You say your name confidently and squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease some of the ache that Tess’s newfound attention is bringing to the apex of your thighs.

Tess whispers your name back at you and it sends a shiver down your spine. She continues, “Get on your hands and knees and crawl to me.”

Lydia swallows loudly beside you as you drop to the floor, crawling seductively to Tess, head held high. The worn hardwood planks creak under your weight. Even the floor is warm and sticky from the weather. You make it to her, sitting back on your heels like the good little girl you are. She leans forward and tugs on the hem of your dress and her syrupy voice says, “Arms up”. You lift your ass slightly and she slips your dress up and over your head. It was too hot for a bra today so you’re left in just a lacy pink thong.

“Mmmm, look at those pretty tits,” Tess hums, her fingers gliding along the plush soft skin of your breasts before ghosting over your nipples making the arm whoosh from your lungs. “You like that? Me touching your nipples.”

You breathe out a yes, eyes shutting as she pinches your pebbled buds roughly. “Oh god, yes.”

The old worn couch groans as Tess sits back, “Go take her bra and panties off.”

You climb to your feet and walk over to Lydia, holding out a hand and helping her stand. You move behind her and trail your fingers down the soft skin of her spinal column before popping the clasp of her bra. Lydia slides it off her body, arms crossing to block her now exposed breasts. Goosebumps rise across her from head to toe. You shush her and rub up and down her arms. Lydia relaxes under your touch and she drops her arms, Tess nods at you once, a silent encouragement to continue. You get down on your knees, hooking your index fingers in the waistband of her panties and sliding them down. Her round ass is in your face, she smells like fresh linen and rain. You fight the urge to kiss the sensitive little spot right where her ass crack starts.

“So fucking beautiful. Sit back down, Lydia.” Tess says and you want to cry out in protest. Her body is so enticing, soft and warm. She focuses back on you and says, “Stand in front of Lydia so she can take your panties off.”

You stand gracefully, biting your bottom lip as you maneuver yourself in front of Lydia. “Spread your legs,” you whisper, determined to help her so you can put on the best show for Tess. Lydia parts her knees and you twirl to face Tess, gathering your hair in one hand as Lydia slides your soaked panties down your legs. You kick them to the side and seductively drop your hair, smiling sweetly at Tess.

“Sit,” Tess barks. Lydia gasps behind you, but you like this; being told what to do. Commanded. Used. Tess continues after you sit, “I want you both to touch yourselves. Show me how you like it, but don’t come. You haven’t earned that yet. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” Lydia says, looking down at her hands. You nod eagerly, already sliding your ass to the edge of the chair and spreading your legs wide for her. Tess stares at your glistening core hungrily, leaning forward again to rest her muscular forearms on her knees. Her hair falls forward and frames her face. Her expression is hard, like you don’t want to disobey her in these moments. Brows are slightly knit together, lips in a thin line. She looks beautiful and dangerous, but as you bring your pointer and ring fingers to your entrance she softens a little, cocking her head to the side slightly.

Lydia keeps her legs closed, slipping a finger down her slit and rubbing slowly from side to side. She whimpers silently beside you, glancing at you nervously. Your fingers easily slip inside of your soft, dripping hole.

Tess’s eyes dance between the two of you. “Two very different girls,” she says to the room, neither of you stopping what you’re doing, both determined to become a part of her Treasures. “One of you seems shy, but I can work with that. Help you get out of your shell. And then there’s you,” her focus locks on you as she gets up with a grunt and saunters over to you. “You are a little whore, aren’t you? So eager to please.”

You feel yourself getting wetter at her attention and mean words. She pets your head lightly a few times, laughing quietly at how you lean into her touch, your eyes fluttering closed. Just as your lashes hit your cheeks she grabs a handful, pulls hard and gets within inches of your face. “You’re going to be a problem, aren’t ya?”

“No,” you gasp, your orgasm right on the precipice, so you slow your motions. “I’ll be good, Tess.”

“Did I say you could slow down?”

“I - I’m gonna come,” you whine.

“No, you’re not. You just told me you’d be good. And good girls don’t come until they’re told.” She releases your hair and you suck in a breath. Tess’s presence is palpable, she seems to take up all the space and air in the apartment by just being here. “Do NOT come, that’s an order.”

Just as the last sentence leaves her mouth the door opens and the apartment gets smaller, like your whole existence is being put in a vacuum sealer. The deep chuckle that comes from whoever just entered makes your scalp prickle, but you keep your focus on Tess.

“What’re we doin’ here, Tess?” The voice is deep, with a slight southern accent highlighting an occasional word. It can only belong to one man, the only man allowed near Tess’s Treasures. Joel Miller. He’s feared and revered in the Boston QZ. Runs the drug trade that keeps both FEDRA and the seedy underbelly running. You’ve never seen him before, but you’ve heard stories.

“Recruits,” Tess says, walking over to Lydia, crouching in front of her. “This one is shy. The other one - well, I might need your help with her.”

Your clit feels like it’s zapped with electricity at her threatening promises and you moan loudly, pausing your fingers that have been plunging in and out of you as per Tess’s requests. “See,” she says flatly, hands massaging Lydia’s plush tanned thighs.

You hear Joel’s heavy footsteps as he walks towards you, you can feel his heat and smell the tobacco coming off his skin. When he steps into your line of vision everything blurs. He’s beautiful and dangerous, but overall he’s the most incredible specimen you’ve ever seen. Your brain seems to go blank, like a hard reset, until all you see and smell and care about is Joel. You keep your eyes locked on his face, his brows crease, lips pressed tightly together. He plants his hands on his hips as his coffee and whiskey eyes slowly trail down your body. When he gets to your soaked and swollen pussy he licks his lips. “You gonna let her come?” He asks Tess but doesn’t take his eyes off you.

The fog clouding your brain clears and you glance towards Lydia and Tess. She has her legs spread and Tess is smiling encouragingly up at her, hand on top of hers, teaching her where to touch.

“She can come when she’s earned it. Lydia’s earned it though. Haven’t you?” She nods at Lydia as she squirms in the wooden kitchen chair. “That’s it, show us.”

Lydia speeds the up and down motion of her hand sloppily, you can hear the wetness as her movements become more erratic. Joel’s eyes haven’t left you, still watching you fuck your fingers in and out of yourself, almost mesmerized by you.

“Tess,” Lydia murmurs.

“Go ahead, baby. Come for me. Let me see that pretty little pussy twitch.”

Lydia’s body starts to shake as she cries out, her hand slowing as she whines and moans, “Oh god. Oh god. Yesyesyes.”

You peel your eyes away from her and squeeze every muscle in your body as tightly as you can, holding on, not letting yourself come. Looking at Joel makes it nearly impossible not to tip over that very tantalizing edge, so you clamp your eyes shut. “Tess,” Joel says, his voice a baritone whisper. “You’re torturing this one, look at her.”

He’s right, she is torturing you; but, what Joel doesn’t know is that you love it. You love being denied just as much as you love being used. You love being pinned down or tied up. You love having your throat or pussy or ass fucked in any and all positions known to humankind. The world is a dark and horrible shit show, but sex? Ya, sex makes you feel alive.

“Torturing her would be not letting her touch herself at all. She should be thanking me.” Tess turns her attention back to Lydia, helping her stand up and pulling her to the couch. “You did such a good job for me. You looked stunning as you fell apart.”

You open your eyes at the movement of them. They stop and stand facing each other in front of the couch as Tess removes her shirt, her breasts are small and perky with light pink nipples. Joel looks away from you, staring appreciatively at the woman he’s sworn to protect. She pops the button on her jeans. “Take them off her, Lydia. Tess shouldn’t have to work this hard,” Joel commands.

You whimper at the timbre of Joel's voice when he’s giving instructions and his eyes whip back to you. “You like that, don’t you? Being told what to do.”

“Yes, oh god, please can I come Tess,” you cry, eyes still locked with Joels.

“Lydia is going to lick my pussy, Joel is going to move out of the way so I can see you, and when I say you can come I want you to be loud. I want to hear those slutty little moans. Got it?”

Joel doesn’t hesitate, stepping behind your chair. He must be leaning over you because you swear you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear. Tess sits on the couch and tugs at Lydia’s wrist gently, encouraging her to kneel in front of her. “Come on,” she whispers and then places her finger at the top of her pussy. “Just lick and kiss right here. You can do it.”

Lydia moves slowly, giving you a knowing glance over her shoulder as she gets into Tess’s desired position. You suddenly realize that she’s more clever than you initially thought. She’s not shy, she knows exactly what she’s doing. Tess likes to lead, so she acted like she needed the guidance. And now she’s come and you haven’t. Tess’s head falls back, jaw going slack as Lydia tastes her.

“Does that turn you on?” Joel whispers, his warm breath hitting your neck. “Seeing Tess being eaten out. She deserves that every day, you know. She’s gonna take such good care of you, so you better care for her.”

“I will,” you mumble. “I’ll do whatever she needs. Whenever. Fuuuuck.”

“Look how wet you’re getting, I don’t think you can hold it for much longer.” He’s taunting you now. “Little thing loves to come, doesn’t she?”

“No, Tess gets to - oh god - she says when,” you’re squeezing as tight as you can, holding back the orgasm that’s right there, like a seesaw teetering, so close to tipping to the other side and slamming through you.

Lydia slurps at Tess, you can hear her sucking at her clit as Tess moans and tangles her fingers into Lydia’s hair. “Yes, that’s it. Fuck, right there.”

You let out a breathy whine and Tess’s eyes come to you. “Ssshh, not yet. Oh shit, Lydia. So good.”

Joel laughs into your ear. “Just come, what’s the worst she’s going to do? Spank you? Let me fuck your throat? I bet you like being punished.”

You shake your head, trying to block out all the lewd mental images he’s creating. “No, Joel.” you huff, refocusing on holding it in, thinking of all the unsexy thoughts you can as you watch Tess, waiting for your time.

Tess’s legs begin to shake, “get ready, baby. We are going to come together.”

Your wrist begins to ache, it feels like you’ve been fucking yourself for hours. “I need to, please. You look so - “

She cuts you off, “Joel, take over for her. I’m gonna come.”

Joel practically leaps in front of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling your drenched fingers out while slipping his two thick fingers into your mouth. You bob up and down on his fingers still looking at Tess. Her eyes are glazed over, and a bead of sweat slides down the line of her toned stomach and lands in her belly button.

“Now, Joel,” she whines and Joel wastes no time slamming his fingers inside of you. You cry out at the stretch, pleasure mixing with pain before he pumps his fingers forward. “Come right now,” Tess says.

You look down at Joel, his thumb coming to caress your swollen bundle of nerves and you cry out, the room filled with your loud moans just like she wants. You hear both her and Joel encouraging you. Joel’s Texas twang washing over you, “that’s it, fuckin clenchin. Fuck you’re so tight.”

Joel is relentless, curling and dragging his fingers in and out of you as you writhe in your chair. “Tess, oh god, yes.”

Joel's other hand slaps the inside of your thigh, “LOUDER!” he demands.

You squeal at the hot pain that splashes along your thigh, “hhnnngg, thank you. Fuck.” Your pleasurable moans turn into whines of pain as the overstimulation starts to seep in. You try to pull back and bring your knees together and Joel lets out a growl. He looks up at you dangerously and your stomach clenches. This is the wild, animalistic Joel Miller that everyone fears.

You start to panic, he’s not stopping and you don’t know if you can take much more. You’re so wrapped in his onyx gaze and a mix of fear and arousal that you don’t notice Tess behind Joel until she speaks. Her voice is soft yet firm as she cards her fingers through his greying curls, “Joel, that’s enough.”

He blinks hard, seemingly coming out of some sort of trance, and then slips his fingers from you, strings of milky arousal coating his fingers. “Good boy,” she whispers. “Help her up, but you don’t get to touch either of them until I say so.”

He nods and then stands, helping you up. Lydia is lounging lazily on the couch, her face still glistening with Tess’s juices. Your knees shake underneath you and Joel wraps an arm around your waist. You’ve had plenty of orgasms in your life, but never one that deep and strong. Your pussy is aching and you just want to sleep.

Tess sits on the chair that Lydia was on and spreads her legs slightly. “Lydia,” she crooks her fingers at her, calling her over. “Turn around, pretty girl. Straddle my thigh.”

Lydia follows Tess’s instructions, that fake nervous pout of her lips on display for Joel. Clever, very clever, you think through heavy eyelids.

“Joel, help her on the other thigh and bring that chair.” Joel guides and steadies you as you sit on Tess’s thigh, then places the extra chair in front of the three of you. “Use the chair for balance,” Tess instructs, her hand running up and down your spine gently.

You both lean forward, your sweaty palms slipping slightly against the wooden chair. You both gasp quietly as your swollen clits press into her muscular thigh, as she caresses your backs and hips. Joel sits on the couch across from you, one arm draped across the back and his legs spread. He watches you intently, eyes blown out and curls sticking to his forehead. It’s not lost on you that he hasn’t focused much attention on the other girl. You look over at Lydia and she’s smiling flirtatiously at you. Your faces are just inches apart and she nudges at your nose with hers.

“Ladies,” Tess starts, “this is the part where you show Joel what you can do. He’s going to kill people for you, and when he does, you need to repay him.”

You graze your lips against Lydias, her skin tastes like peaches and Tess’s cunt.

“Pretend my thigh is Joel's cock, show him how you’ll ride him.”

You flick your attention back to Joel, and his expression shifts from hard to a tortured need. You rake your eyes down his strong chest, still concealed by that fucking denim button up that you want to rip off with your teeth. He’s dangerous and could easily snap your neck with two fingers, but fuck, if that doesn’t make you want him more. Lydia presses her lips to your throat and you start to grind back and forth on Tess’s thigh.

You continue to take in Joel’s body, stopping when you get to his lap. Your eyes widen at the distinct outline of his hard cock pressing behind the zipper of his jeans. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth as you lock eyes with him again. His coffee coloured irises are almost onyx as he shifts in his seat. He wants you - just as much as you want him, and you just hope that you can break him enough so Tess lets him have you.

Tess’s strong hand travels up the smooth skin of your back, tangling her hands in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Tell Joel how good it feels, baby. Lydia, keep kissing her.”

Lydia’s lips suck at your skin. “Mmm, fuck Joel. Feels s’good. Wish it was your big cock filling me up, sliding in and out of my tight, wet pussy.” Tess tugs at your hair to open your neck more for Lydia and you yelp.

“Keep talking, baby girl,” Joel says, his hand moving to palm himself over his jeans. “Tell me what you want.”

You grind harder into Tess’s thigh, between the sting in your scalp from her hand, Lydia’s soft lips on your neck, and Joel’s intense stare, it almost becomes hard to breathe. Every bit of their attention is on you.

“I-I want you to, mmmm, to pin me down,” you take in a shaky breath, never taking your eyes off him. “To f-fuck me…from behind. Want you to f-fill, oh god, fill me.”

Joel pops the button of his jeans, reaching down his pants to grip himself through his tight grey boxers. You continue breathily, “Wanna feel you spank me. Slam inside of me. Dominate me.”

“Good girl,” Tess says, releasing her grip on your hair and pulling Lydia off your neck, before pressing in between your shoulder blades until you’re flush with her thigh. You crane your neck to keep your eyes on Joel, looking at him through the wooden slats of the back of the chair in front of you. “Your turn, Lydia. Tell Joel what you want.”

She clears her throat before beginning, “If he killed for me, I wouldn’t make him do any work. I’d lay him down, lick and kiss every inch of him before sliding him in my mouth. Taking him deep, cradling his balls with my hand. I’d swallow every drop.”

Joel lets out a noncommittal grunt, almost like a secret language between him and Tess. Joel leans forward and removes his denim button up and t-shirt in one swoop. His tanned and toned chest makes your mouth water. His chiselled pecs and soft belly have trimmed salt and pepper hair dusted across them, he toes off his shoes and then lifts his hip, sliding his jeans down his legs. His skin glistens with sweat and you want to lick it all off of him, drink up his salt and musk, his innate Joel-ness.

“Come here, Joel.” She says.

“Sit up,” she says softly to you. Joel stalks forward like he’s about to claim what’s his and your pussy clenches around nothing in hopes that it’s you.

“Ride my thighs, girls. Whoever cums first, Joel gets to fuck.” You spit into your hand and reach between your legs, gently spreading your lips and coating yourself in saliva.

A deep, “holy fuck” leaves Joel's lips at the sight of you. Yes, he definitely wants you just as much as you want him. You move your hands from the chair to Tess’s knee and grind your hips in small, slow circles. Your arms push your tits together for Joel. Beside you, Lydia stops moving. She sits as still as a statue, looking over her shoulder seductively at Tess. A loud slap fills the room, followed by a lust filled moan that you didn't think Lydia was capable of.

“Tess,” she says, all airy and breathy. Her tone feels sweet on your skin. “I don’t like sleeping with men.”

You keep grinding, your focus on Joel. He’s so close that you could reach out and grab one of his muscular forearms. You’re going to fuck him. You want to fuck him. Any way he wants. Any hole he wants. None of it matters, you just want to feel him, smell him, taste him.

Tess lets out an impressed sigh. “You’re even more amazing than I thought, Lydia. Had me telling you how to lick a pussy, how to touch yourself. But you already know. Don’t you?” She slaps Lydia’s ass again and the loud noise even has you clenching. Fuck, you want Joel to spank you. Or Tess. Even Lydia at this point.

It’s wrong. And taboo. But who can say what’s right or wrong in this new world anymore?

“You are going to have to do things for Joel, little temptress. It’s part of the deal.” You see Tess’s hands come to Lydia’s hips, encouraging her to grind at the same pace you’ve set. “So ride me. Let me feel that slick little pussy, let me feel it quiver on my thigh.”

Things are quiet for a moment, just the squelching sounds of both your cunts gliding along her smooth thigh. You lean into Lydia, desperate for more. More what, you aren’t sure. Just more.

She responds to your touch, her nose brushing your cheek before you turn into her and kiss her deeply. Slanting your head to taste her tongue against yours. She’s sweet, like strawberry jam. Lips so soft they almost don’t feel real. Her teeth clamp onto your bottom lip and you cry out. The perfect amount of pain to increase the pleasure between your legs. When she lets go you’re panting.

“She’s close, Tess,” Joel murmurs like he knows your body so well, but he’s not wrong. He continues speaking casually to Tess as if you aren’t in the same room. “Do I really get to fuck her if she cums first?”

You grind down harder, kissing Lydia again. You love them talking about you as if you aren’t here. Making the decisions for you.

“As soon as she cums, you take her to the bed.” Tess’s strong hand lays a sharp slap on the meaty globe of your ass and you crumble.

“YES!” You scream, convulsing as the pleasure courses through you. You look up at Joel through your lashes, jaw slack, voice weak and desperate. “Joel. Please. Please.”

He drops his boxers and his thick cock spring free. Slapping against his belly. The tip is smooth and leaking, he’s bigger than you thought and somehow your throat dries out as your cheeks fill with saliva. As you come down from your second orgasm you realize that you can do this. You are going to do whatever Tess says and become one of her Treasures.

“Think you can take him?” Tess hums as Lydia falls apart beside you, moaning sweetly. Tess adds, “Good girl, Lydia. So perfect when you cum.”

You decide to take a page out of Lydia's book and act innocent. “N-no,” you stammer. “It’s…I don’t…it’s too big.”

Joel snorts, “You’re not a very good liar my little slut.”

Before you can respond he’s lifted you up and over his broad shoulder. His skin is warm against your belly. You giggle mischievously as his hands dig into the plush skin on the back of your thighs. He can so easily overpower you, so easily destroy you - mentally and physically. And you’d let him, and to make it worse, you’d thank him afterwards and probably ask him to do it again.

He drops you on the bed. “Don’t move.”

You nod and swallow the dry lump in your throat. You definitely want this, even if you shouldn’t. Even if that logical voice inside your head is screaming at you to put up the wall, block him out like you do with everyone else. But the infinitesimal hint of softness in his face that can only be seen by the two of you keeps you sucked in. He won’t hurt you, no. Something in his eyes gives him away, he wants to please you with those hands that have brought pain and torture to so many others.

He walks back over to Tess and Lydia who are completely entranced with one another. Lydia is now sitting fully in Tess’s lap. Her back pressed to Tess’s front, both her legs draped over Tess’s as she pressed kisses along the tops of one of her shoulders and rubs her fingers gently from her pussy up to Lydia’s. Joel kneels in front of them, both of their legs spread, wet pussy’s glistening and on display for him. The sight of Joel Miller on his knees does something unexplainable to you. He’s so goddamn delicious.

He looks over at you again, that softness still coaxing you deeper into his web, tangling around you, claiming you. His large hands cup Tess’s inner thighs and then he dives into both their pussy’s. Jealousy swirls in your stomach as he draws a sloppy wet line from Tess’s entrance to her clit, then up to Lydia in the same manner.

“Oh, fuck Joel,” Tess cries as Lydia whimpers.

“Too much, baby?” he says gruffly to Lydia who nods before burying her face into the crook of Tess’s neck. “Little more, m’kay?”

He licks at them again, Tess’s moan ending as Lydia’s starts. Joel doesn’t stop. He uses long languid and lazy strokes of his tongue as he eats at both of them.

“J-Jo - fuuuck Joel!” Tess murmurs, her head falling back and mouth falling open in a silent scream. She wraps her arms tightly around Lydia as her legs start to tremble. Joel’s deltoids and biceps flex as he pushes to keep her thighs apart.

“Fuck, Tess.” Lydia purrs, “You look so goddamn hot when you cum. Suck on her clit, Joel. Make our girl squeal.” You can hear him slurp her swollen and twitching nub into his mouth. As it slips along his soft and puffy lips her pained sounding moans start to become mumbles of pleasure. Joel works her through her orgasm, not stopping until he knows she's good and sated.

Lydia reaches back, twisting to kiss Tess deeply and then whispers into her lips. Whatever she says gets Joel's attention and he releases her clit with a pop before looking up at the two women. You haven’t moved from where Joel left you, as fun as being a brat is, he could probably dish out a punishment so intense that even you would break and use whatever safe word he gave you. Lydia whispers more, Joel smirks at whatever she’s saying and then the three of them all slowly turn to look over at you.

Fuck

Joel stands, his hands coming to the outsides of Tess’s knees and guiding her as she closes her legs, then he gives a hand to Lydia to help her stand before repeating the same with Tess. He stands tall and broad, completely naked and fully erect between these two powerhouse women, linking his fingers with Tess and smiling over at her. She gives him a little nod and your stomach flips as your pussy clenches.

This is it, you think.

“Little slut,” he says deeply, “‘M’gonna fuck you now, while they hold you down. Understood?”

You try to say yes, but just air seems to leave your lungs. Tess and Lydia climb along each side of you, hooking their arm under your leg and pulling back to open you for Joel. Your arms are trapped under their bodies as they lay beside you. You’re pinned and exposed; fully at Joel, Tess and Lydia’s mercy.

The bed dips as Joel settles between your thighs, his large body looms over you, resting himself on one forearm beside your head, his other hand wrapped around his cock, running it up and down your folds.

“So wet for me. So soft,” he presses the fat tip of his cock at your entrance and you gasp. “Shit! S’tight too, baby girl.”

Tess and Lydia nuzzle into you, lightly dragging their noses along your neck and jawline. “J-Joel, fuck me. Pleaseplease. Fuck me”

Joel presses his hips forwards, and the thick, smooth mushroom head of his cock pushes at your weeping cunt again. “Look at me, little slut,” he rasps. You don’t hesitate, look at him with big innocent eyes, biting your lower lip. He spits into his palm and then coats his throbbing dick with it, fisting himself up and down. He raises an eyebrow at you cockily, “Say it again.”

“Fuck me, fuck me, please!”

Without warning Joel slams into you, stretching you painfully and your body jolts. You try to slam your knees together but the naked women on each side of you keep you spread open widely for Joel. “Shit baby,” he says through gritted teeth as his body folds over yours, his hands caging all three of you in. Tess nips at your neck, while Lydia sucks at your earlobe after whispering, “Relax, little slut, we all got you.”

Your lungs slowly come back to you. You take a deep, full breath in, and it feels like you haven’t taken a proper breath since seeing Joel for the first time. As you exhale you’re completely surrounded by Joel Miller. His large body is all you can see and feel. Meanwhile, all you can taste and smell is his tobacco scent and the salt of the sweat that coats his tanned skin. You’re addicted, you want to be able to inject him right into your veins. Your pussy relaxes around him and the pain ebbs into pleasure, and you need more.

“More, please more,” you murmur into his neck.

“There she is,” Tess whispers in your ear and you whimper.

“Say it again,” Joel commands.

“Fuck me, Joel,” you cry. “Please, fuck me. Make me your little slut for real.”

Lydia giggles seductively in your ear, pulling you into her tighter.

“Open her all the way for me,” he says to the other two. “S’too tight for me.”

He sits himself up and your knees are pulled open and back. Joel keeps his eyes locked on yours as he tilts his chin a bit and splits on your already soaked pussy. His veiny hands come to the back of your thighs, squeezing and massaging at your sensitive skin.

“Think I should fuck her, Lydia?” He starts, and soon they’re talking about you again as if you aren’t even there, the slick walls of your cunt fluttering as they speak.

“She's been good, hasn’t she?” Lydia says in a syrupy aroused tone.

“No she hasn’t,” Tess says between kisses along your jawline. “She’s a thief. She’s a bad girl.”

Joel slaps the inside of one of your thighs, with just enough of a flick in his wrist that it immediately sends a zap of pleasure toward your clit. Lydia feels you relax more into her grips, “She likes it when you hit her, Joel”.

“Of course she does,” Tess moans. “She’s a little slut.” She hits the t at the end of the word hard and Joel slaps you again. Right in the same spot, precision that you’ve never known before from a man who kills without being seen.

“Should feel how tight she is, maybe she had us fooled,” Joel says, eyes shifting between the two women, wholly avoiding your gaze. You’re so desperate for his attention, and the humiliation of him not returning it arouses you so much more than it should.

“What’d’ya mean, baby boy?” Tess asks, her warm breath hitting your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“Like a virgin, squeezin’ me like a vice.”

“She’s shakin,” Lydia adds. “Poor girl.”

“You two don’t stop kissing her while I do this,” they both nod and he flips his attention back to you. “I wanna hear you screamin’. Got it, little slut?”

You shudder under his intense stare. “Yes, yes, Joel. Please, just fuck me. Pleeease!”

He pulls halfway out and then slams back in, his heavy balls slap at your taint and asshole, your needy high pitched moans filling the room. Your whole body constricts around Joel and as it relaxes it feels like heaven. No one has made your body feel like this. “That feel good?” Joel says tauntingly, his hands gripping into the back of your thighs.

“Please - fuck, yes. More,” you mumble, almost incoherently.

“Show our girl, Joel. Show her what he can have once she’s my Treasure.” Tess commands.

What’s that saying, ‘You say jump, I say how high’? Well, when Tess says jump, Joel is already mid jump, doing it exactly how Tess wants it. He’s already dragging his cock out slowly, all the way to the tip, before slamming fast and hard back into you.

“Harder,” Tess growls, biting your neck as Joel repeats the motion. Lydia squirms against you, her soft warm skin slipping along the thin sparkling layer of sweat that coats your body. “Look at her. Pliant, soft. Letting Joel do whatever he wants.”

“That’s cuz she’s a good girl,” Lydia moans, kissing the sensitive skin under your earlobe.

Joel brings one of his hands to cup your chin, his thumb running around your bottom lip softly. “Gotta relax for me, little slut.”

You take a breath and as you exhale you can feel the grip your pussy has on his thick cock loosen. “That’s it. That’s my girl.”

“Good job, baby girl,” Tess whispers, kissing at your throat again.

“Fuck her now, Joel.” Lydia says, “We got her.”

Joel sets a quick pace, slamming in and out of you. His name and a string of swears leaving your lips with every thrust, just the screams of your pleasure and the squelching of your pussy filling the room. Tess and Lydia whisper praises as Joel is possessed by your cunt. Pounding and pounding into you without pause. Over and over, he’s relentless. A man possessed. You can’t help but wonder if he’s like this with all other women or if this is just for you. His hand falls from your chin, landing beside Tess’s head on the mattress, the other still gripped to your thigh. His short nails dig into your skin, leaving you marked with signs of him.

“That’s it,” Lydia hums. “Taking it like such a good girl.”

Tess’s teeth lightly scrape at your jawline. “Come on, baby. I wanna see you come again.”

“So fuckin’ pretty when you come,” Joel says each word at the end of his harsh thrusts. His voice is gravelly and deep. Seeping under your skin and into your DNA, the very fabric of your being. You belong to him, no questions asked.

“M-more. I - more - please.” You aren’t sure what you mean by more, but Joel seems to know your body better than you as he sits himself back up and brings his thumb to your clit, teasing it gently and you writhe under him. It’s almost too much but you need it, and even more, you need Joel not to stop.

He hammers into you again, slower this time, but still with an intense flick of his hips at the end. The leaking tip of his cock pressing against the perfect spongy part behind your clit.

“Can see you in her stomach, Cowboy.” Tess moans. Both the women feather long, lingering kisses along your neck. The juxtaposition of their soft actions and the bruising dance of Joel’s hip is just as confusing as it is arousing.

“Rub her clit a little harder, Joel. I think she’s getting close.” You clench around him at Lydia’s words and cry out loudly.

He swirls his thumb easily along your lubricated clit, the mixture of both of your arousals and his spit making it slippery. “Ohgod, hnnnnggg, J-Joel pleasepleaseplease.”

“Sssshhh, baby,” he soothes, pausing with his hips pushed flush to your ass. “Gotta relax, remember?”

You whimper in agreement, nodding your head as you try to slow your breathing and your heart rate. “There she goes,” Joel moans as your pussy walls flutter and then relax.

He starts to fuck you slowly, circling your swollen velvety nub with the rough pad of his thumb. His other hand leaves your thigh, massaging your breast, pinching at the nipple with his thumb and forefinger. “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight. Gonna fill you one day.”

“Today, please!” you protest through a salacious moan.

“Tell her,” he says to the women holding you in their arms, speeding up the circles of his thumb.

“Lydia,” Tess whispers, like it’s a secret just for the three of you, “Tell her your plan.”

You’re lost in a daze as Lydia says your name into your skin. When you don’t respond she nips gently at you and says, “Baby? You with me?”

“Y-yes. Fuuuuuuck,” you say wantonly.

“Joel is gonna make you cum, then pull out and cum all over our faces. After, we are going to lick it all off each other.” She says it with a hint of mischief and lust in her voice.

The three of them praise and encourage you as Joel keeps fucking you and rubbing your clit at the same time. You have no idea how long you’ve been in this apartment, how long you’ve been floating on a vibrating fluffy cloud of pleasure and craving. Whispers of “Good girl”, “so pretty”, and “fuck listen to how wet you are” travel through you.

The electric currents of pleasure that sizzle along your skin all come to the base of your spine. Pressure building, so very close to exploding around all of you. “Come on, little slut. Let go for me.”

Lydia and Tess say ‘Come on’ and ‘relax into it’ at the same time.

“Shit, J-Joel,” you whimper. A tear runs down your cheek.

“I know, I’m here,” he says, voice slightly softer than earlier. “I know.”

The pressure becomes unbearable and then everything snaps. Your pussy flutters as the pleasure starts to consume every single inch of your being. Your vision blurs, every muscle going lax as you twitch unconsciously underneath him.

“Good girl. Yes, that’s my good little slutty girl,” he growls. Your orgasm continues to tear through you, ripping you in half and you know when you come down only Joel will be able to stitch you back up again.

Joel presses his large palm to your mound, and just as you feel yourself start to come down you’re on the precipice of another orgasm. “Got another one for me, baby?”

“Yesyesyes - yeeesss,” you’ve forgotten words, you’re just a bundle of pleasure. No muscles or bones or thoughts of your own. Just a pliant body, that’s fully under the control of Joel Miller.

Your second orgasm hits you hard, tearing anything you had left in half. “She’s gonna squirt,” Joel mumbles.

“Just let it go,” Lydia whispers, suckling on your earlobe.

You push into the feeling, letting it overtake you as liquid gushes from your cunt, coating Joel's pelvis and pooling on the bed below you. It splashes as Joel keeps up his pace. You scream out in pleasure. Lydia and Tess talking you through it quietly, “Good girl. Stay relaxed for me,” Tess says as Lydia adds, “Let it take you, we’re right here.”

The pleasure starts to ebb, it’s becoming too much as Tess whispers, “Breathe, baby girl. Just breathe.”

“Can’t, Tess.” you whimper, turning your face towards her. “Please,” you plead. If you learned anything from earlier, it’s that only Tess can make him stop.

“Ok, baby, you’re ok,” she hums. She looks up at Joel above all of you and drops her voice, “That’s enough now, Joel.”

Joel pulls away from your clit and you sigh in relief, both his hands coming to your breasts, squeezing them roughly as his thrusts become sloppy. “Get ready,” he huffs through gritted teeth. Both Tess and Lydia scoot up so their faces are pressed against yours.

Joel slips out of you with a lewd pop and practically bends you in half to get over your faces. “Open your mouths and look at me,” he commands. The three of you obey, anything for the man who is going to kill for you or defend you to the very end if need be.

His hand is tight around his cock, pumping himself quickly, the cords of muscle and veins along his forearm start to pop. His balls are full and heavy, tight against his body as he edges closer to his release. You stare at him, soaking in how wrecked he looks as he gets closer. His brows pinch together, onyx and whiskey flecked eyes looking only at you before his face goes lax and he lets out a deep, loud moan. Warm ropes of opaque white cum paint your faces.

As soon as he’s done he pulls away, Tess and Lydia letting go of your legs as the three of you kiss and lick at each other's sticky faces. Joel tastes better than you could have imagined, a heady mix of saltiness that leaves you insatiable for more.

Joel sits back on his heels watching the three of you slurp him up. He has a proud smirk on his face and when your eyes find his he winks at you before getting up and grabbing a towel off the top of the small dresser near the bed. Tess says something hushed to Lydia as you and Joel look at one another. Lydia pressed a kiss to your cheek before getting off the bed and following Tess into another room, the unmistakable sound of the shower alerting you to where they’ve gone.

Joel climbs beside you, looking down at you hesitantly. “You ok?” he whispers.

“Ya,” you sign sleepily. “I’m ok, Joel.”

He brings the towel to your thighs, soaking up your arousal. “I didn’t hurt ya?”

The towel ghosts along your swollen folds and you gasp, turning your head into Joel’s strong upper body. “I know, sorry.” He hisses, hating that he’s causing you discomfort. “But I gotta clean you up.”

He dabs gently with the soft towel causing an aftershock that shakes through your body and you feel yourself squirt again. Not nearly as much this time but a euphoric moan leaves your lips. Joel tucks the towel between your legs and guides your face up to meet his. His brown eyes burn themselves into your soul, “do you need more, baby? Just tell me.”

“It’s sensitive,” you whine.

He lifts an eyebrow slightly, “does it hurt?”

You stick your bottom lip out and nod sadly.

“Need me to kiss it?” he asks gently, his hooked nose rubbing against yours.

You look at him hesitantly. Of course, you want Joel’s plush lips on your pussy, but a flap of a butterfly wing could probably cause you to implode at this point.

“You can say another time,” he whispers, lips hovering over yours. He doesn’t know where this side of him has come from. Joel Miller is a simple man. Murder who Tess says, fuck any one of her Treasures that offer to get the adrenaline out afterwards, then leave them in their apartment pumped full of his cum. He usually can’t wait to rush back to his apartment to take a shower and shoot back a mix of whiskey and sleeping pills. But with you, he feels the need to care for you afterwards, and he has a strong feeling that you’re going to be a very large distraction in his life from now on.

I’m fucked, he thinks to himself.

You lean forward to sponge your lips against his. He kisses you sweetly, pulling you in tighter as you hum contently into his lips.

“I don’t think I can tonight,” you say softly after breaking the kiss.

“That’s ok, little slut.” He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you’re resting on top of him. Legs straddling his hips and your head resting on his chest. You shiver against him, tucking your arms into your body. His hands scramble for the blanket, wrapping it around the two of you, kissing the top of your head. “Tomorrow, after Tess officially makes you her Treasure, that will be your gift from me.”

You nod into his chest, he smells like gunpowder, fresh sawdust and sweat as your eyelids become heavy and the world seems to slip away. You have trouble sleeping normally, I mean who wouldn’t in this fucked up new world you’re all in, but with Joel, it happens almost too easily. Sleep just takes you to a deep and uninterrupted place for who knows how long. But when you wake you’re in a large grey t-shirt in a small bedroom, not the same one you fell asleep in. You hear the peaceful and melodic breathing of someone beside you. You move slowly, peeling open your eyes to see Joel sleeping beside you. The moonlight dances softly along his face, grey hairs glinting in the light. He looks so peaceful, nothing like the man that was crazed by your pussy early. He’s still visibly dangerous, but fuck is he beautiful.

I’m fucked, you think to yourself.

Tag list:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44

@keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot

@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog

@pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya

@javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey

@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81 @littlevenicebitch69

#joel miller #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #pedrohub #joel miller fanfiction #joel x female reader #joel x y/n #joel x oc #Joel x tess #tess servopoulos #tess x joel #tess x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic

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victimsofyaoipoll · 7 months

Text

Finals

Propaganda Under Cut

Sakura Haruno

Her husband is gay and her author doesn't know how to write women. So many people say she's the worst but she. DESERVES. BETTER!!! Save her from this franchise.

My baby girl my bestie my best friend. She committed the crime of um being written by kishimoto who both doesn’t know how to write women and somehow writes men in the gayest way possible specifically naruto and sasuke. Like the thing is naruto and sasuke ARE gay and also she gets so much hate for the crime of kishimoto writing her one dimensionally in love with sasuke. I know her personally she is a butch lesbian to me just trust me she’s in love with Ino and has a lesbian thing going on with Karin okay just trust me. My everything. She needs to divorce the loveless lavender marriage she’s in

What is there to say, even? The OG Threat to my 90s anime brain, the only woman I've ever hated with such a passion she made me turn away from the color pink. I used to write fics with my friend where she got left behind on purpose so our OCs could join the Naruto and Sasuke team instead. I loathed this bitch until I was 16 and realized the author simply couldnt write women and decided it was time to make peace with Sakura. It is not her fault she's vaguely written and obsessive over Sasuke. She deserves better. Sasuke and Naruto still should be together and Sakura shouldnt be with Sasuke but I no longer believe this because I hate Sakura, it is because I love her. She deserves a spouse who will actually put in the time to treat her like the hero she is.

Misa Amane

she gets treated in-canon the way fandoms treat female characters that Threaten an m/m ship. it's like, "oh why don't you go sit in the corner and be pretty, misa, while the Men have intelligent conversation and pretend they aren't ten seconds from fucking each other, doesn't that sound nice?" it's infuriating. and MAYBE it's better now but i remember her getting treated the same way in fanfiction too, like we all need to do just as badly by our female secondary characters as fucking tsugumi ohba, but with the added insult of making her be alternately oblivious of the relationship between light and L or actively trying to sabotage it—incompetently, of course, because god forbid misa be allowed dignity or moments of cleverness.

she's one of the first characters I think of when I consider old school fandom misogyny. The annoying bitch and clingy crazy gf allegations were AFTER HER ASS. She's also a lot more intelligent than people gave her credit for, but most seem inclined to take the Very Biased word of our unreliable, narcissistic narrator and his homoerotic arch nemesis and claim that just because she's bubbly and into romance that she's also a complete moron. Which is blatantly untrue. Everyone was afraid of Misa girlbossing too hard. Killing people and devoting yourself to the deranged twink of your dreams even though you know he'll never love you back??? Having a hardcore goth aesthetic and being so Hot even literal Death Gods are into you?? God forbid women do ANYTHING!

Not only is she the victim of yaoi culture, she is the victim of early 2000s misogyny by an author that wanted to introduce a girl character because he knew his male rivals were getting too homoerotic. She is a goth bimbo icon who portrays what I think is one of the few callouts for stan culture and what parasocial relationships can do to both the stan and the idol. The fact that she is a toxic fan of Kira and also hot, funny, sociable is tragic in its own way, which I think the author did try to touch on but was too misogynistic too really get through. Of course, she was reduced to villain status by the fandom and anime alike because she got in the way of the supposed romance in their psychological horror anime

#poll #finals #sakura haruno #naruto #misa amane #misa misa #death note

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springlockscars · 6 months

Text

clueless (stepfather!w. afton/fem!reader)

pairing: stepfather!william afton | steve raglan/fem!reader content tags: daddy kink, size kink, age gap, praise kink, multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, hand jobs, blow jobs, grinding, first kiss/making out, inexperienced, come swallowing, vaginal fingering. summary: your stepfather is finding it harder and harder to resist you, while you remain entirely oblivious. PREFACE: the reader in this fic is 18+ in age. while phrasing like "little", "baby girl" and "daddy" are used, this terminology is not indicative of the age of the reader. the reader is 18+. minors do not interact. word count: 6,411 tags: @dilfkiss read on AO3

18+ content below cut. minors do not interact.

note: I took "dumb!stepdaughter reader" to mean oblivious as to how horny she makes stepfather!william, I hope thats ok! also I know you only asked for a oneshot but I got so carried away lmao. enjoy! ♡

William was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t even hear your knocks on the basement door. You cracked the door open slightly when he didn’t respond to see him hunched over his workstation. Flashes of light routinely flickering in front of his eyes as he solders metal to metal.

You sneak through the entrance and tiptoe down the stairs, stopping right behind him. You wait for him to put the soldering iron down before hugging him from behind, pressing yourself against his warm, broad back. William startled, too distracted to even realise you were there.

“Honey!” he exclaimed, “what’re you doing? Be careful, you could’ve gotten hurt,” he turns around pulling off his visor to look at you, but his eyes lock in place when he sees you. Your legs, bare to the upper thigh, hips covered by the thin fabric of your pyjama shorts, top half covered by an oversized sweatshirt he recognised as one of his own. He swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry,” you removed your arms from him, “I just wanted to come see you, see what you were working on.”

He couldn’t resist your pouting face, “c’mere, let me show you,” William patted his lap, encouraging you to take a seat. You settle down and turn to face the worktop which was covered with bits and pieces, metal and wire.

His hands rest naturally on your hips, feeling just how thin the fabric of your shorts really was. William had to stifle a groan when you wiggled in his lap to get comfortable. He immediately felt his blood rushing south, his length twitching under your backside. Taking a deep breath, he rested his chin on your shoulder and stroked the bare expanse of your thigh. There was something about seeing you in his clothes made his dick twitch in his trousers.

“What is it?” you asked curiously.

He cleared his throat, “it’s an elbow joint that belongs to one of the animatronics. Some parts needed replacing, and it needed oiling. The movement was too… stiff,” he was thinking about what else was stiff.

“That’s so cool, it’s so clever how you make these things,” your voice was full of wonder, like a kid on Christmas. You picked up the cold metal in your hands and shifted on William’s lap trying once again to get comfortable.

“Thank you honey, that m-means a lot,” his breath caught in his throat as you wiggled again.

Something was definitely poking you, and William knew exactly what it was. You, however, were none the wiser, entirely distracted by playing with the elbow joint in front of you.

William rested his forehead against your shoulder, relishing in the feeling of you pressed against him like this. He thanked whatever god may be out there for the good fortune of your mother working out town for the week, he knew he’d be in big trouble if she were to barge in right now. He’d be in big trouble if she ever found out about the thoughts he had about you, his stepdaughter.

He knows he shouldn’t feel these feelings or think thoughts like these, but how is he supposed to resist with the way you’re grinding your ass into his erection right now. And to top it all off, you had no idea just what you were doing to him. Completely clueless.

“Are you tired?” you ask over your shoulder.

So naïve, “a little, yeah. How about we go back upstairs, hm? Relax and watch a movie maybe?”

“Sure!” you hop off his lap, the cold night air filling the space you occupied. He once again felt his dick twitch and strain against the fabric of his pants.

“You head on up and pick something out for us to watch. I’ll be right there; I just need to do one more thing.”

“Okay!” you shouted cheerfully. William turned to watch you go, your shorts riding up your legs as you ascend the stairs, revealing the curve of your ass cheeks at the very top of your thighs.

You close the door behind you, turning the basement dim again. William leaned his head back against his chair and groaned, deep and desperate. He hastily shoved his slacks down his legs and freed his now rock-solid cock from the confines of his underwear, wasting no time in pumping the appendage with a rough hand.

His lips parted, hot breaths escaping his lips, William imagined you on his lap once more. How you’d grind against him, no clothes, skin to skin. He imagined your moans, soft and pathetic, just for him. He imagined caressing your breasts, rolling the nipples to hard points, how you’d toss your head back as you rode him and screamed his name. He imagined his hand was your pussy, hot and wet, gripping and squeezing him until he came. How tight would you be? How deep could his length reach inside you?

It was bad, his own innocent stepdaughter. But it was the innocence that really turned him on. William wondered how much experience you had. He imagined being your first, the first cock to split you in two, the first one to hear you come.

Sensing the apex of his climax, William bit his lip and thrusted wildly into his hand, “that’s it baby, that’s it, you’re gonna… ungh, make daddy come.” He dug his nails into the leather arm rest as his hips stuttered, breathing ragged, until he finally comes hard all over himself.

His moans are high pitched and broken, head slumped back against the chair with the adrenaline of his orgasm dissipating through his body.

William now has an answer to a decision he didn’t even realise he had to make.

He was going to fuck you.

William finally gathered the strength to clean himself up with the tissues on his desk and compose himself enough to meet you in the living room. When he enters however, he has to grip the wood of the door frame to keep himself from collapsing right there on the floor.

“Honey… what are you doing?”

“Trying to fix the DVD player, the cable came out,” on your hands and knees underneath the TV stand, ass in the air. William could see the mound of your pussy through your- he shook his head, as though he could physically shake the dirty thoughts from his mind.

“D-do you need a hand?” he manages to choke out.

“No, I almost got it,” you spread your legs wider to bend down further, looking for the perfect angle that would allow the cable to slide into the slot, “I don’t think I need a degree in robotics and engineering to fix the TV,” you teased.

William takes a seat on the couch right behind you. From this angle, he can see right up underneath the sweatshirt you were wearing, his sweatshirt, seeing the faint outline of your breasts. There was no way you didn’t know what you were doing to him. There was no way someone could be this oblivious.

William began daydreaming again. Oh, what it would feel like to take her by the hips at this angle, slowly pressing into her tight-

“Got it!” you exclaimed, leaning back on your knees to check the TV.

Snapping back to reality, William snatched a pillow from the couch and placed it on his lap before you could turn around. Despite bringing himself to a climax a mere few minutes ago downstairs, he could feel himself hardening again already.

“Okay! This is one I’ve wanted to watch for a while now, but I’ve been too scared to watch it on my own,” you sit down on the sofa right next to him, leaning comfortably into his side.

The movie opens with a blonde woman making popcorn on the stove, before getting harassed on the phone by a mystery man and ultimately murdered in her own yard.

“Oh my god!” you flinch away from the gore to bury yourself into your stepdad’s side.

William chuckles, “don’t worry baby I’m here,” he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer and leaning his cheek comfortingly against the top of your head.

In your panic, you had wrapped your arm around his midsection. William felt his dick respond to the proximity of your hand. He tried desperately to steady his breathing while stroking your back.

William thought for a moment that the horror movie would be able to distract him from the way you were pressed against him, until the teenage couple on the screen began making out and groping each other in bed.

Feeling emboldened, he decided to tease you a little, “now, don’t you be getting any ideas young lady. I don’t want to open your bedroom door one day and find you tangled up with a boy like that.”

You whipped your head up to look at him, arm still draped over his waist, “no way! I don’t even like any boys like that. They’re all weird anyways.”

“Weird how?” William probed.

“Like…” you thought for a second, “they’re all so dumb and immature. I want to find someone like how mom found you.”

Someone like him… Twitch. “That’s sweet, honey.”

“I wouldn’t even know what to do anyways,” you turned back around and laid your head in William’s lap against the pillow.

His brows furrowed, “what do you mean?” he rested his hand on your waist, stroking light circles into the fabric of his sweatshirt.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, “like kissing and stuff. I’ve never done it… I would probably be really bad at it.”

William was dumbstruck, you really were completely innocent just like he thought. “So,” he started tentatively, “you’ve never kissed anyone?”

You shook your head in his lap, his breath hitching as you pressed the cushion further into his building erection. You didn’t notice.

“And you’ve never… gone further than that? Nobody has touched you?” he was pushing it now; you were bound to catch on.

You shook your head ‘no’ again, “I’m scared it’ll hurt…” You were silent for a moment, before sitting up suddenly turning on your knees and facing him, the movie long forgotten at this point. “Does it hurt? Is it supposed to?” Your eyes wide with curiosity, just like they were down in the basement.

“I- um,” William cleared his throat, painfully aware his hand was still at your waist, “no. No, it’s not supposed to hurt. If your partner is mature enough, and, you know, pays attention to you and what you need, it should feel like the best thing in the world. For the both of you.”

You nodded, deep in thought.

“Have you really never kissed anyone before?” William asked again, still not quite believing it.

“Never,” you shook your head, “how do you do it?”

William’s breath caught in his throat, “w-what?”

“How do you kiss someone like that,” you were serious.

He closed his eyes and braced himself, now or never, he thought. “I can show you, if you’d like.”

Your eyes widened once again and you nodded rapidly, “please,” you begged, scooting closer.

William brought his large palm to your cheek, caressing the soft skin gently, his other hand still resting at your waist, “close your eyes,” he ordered. You obeyed dutifully.

He glanced down at your plush lips, parted as your breathing quickened in anticipation. William leaned in closer and pulled you towards him to meet him halfway. His own eyes fluttered closed as your lips connected. Softly at first, then the hunger overtook William as he grasped your face in both hands, pulling you even closer towards him as he deepened the kiss. He couldn’t stop now.

He licked at your lips, earning a gasp which he quickly took advantage of. Pressing his tongue desperately against yours, you moaned at this brand-new sensation.

Instinctively needing to be closer to him, you shoved the cushion off his lap and took its place, your knees either side of his thighs. You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, surrendering completely to your stepdad’s mouth.

Teeth and tongues clashing, William bites your bottom lip. This is everything he’s been dreaming about. You melting against him so deliciously. His erection grows harder still, now he’s sure you know exactly what it is because you’re grinding down against it in his lap.

William pulls away from your mouth, chest heaving. He has to push you backwards by your own chest as you try to chase the kiss. “Slow down baby, slow down,” he strokes your face with his thumbs.

“Is kissing always like that?” you pant, still gripping onto his shirt for dear life.

William chuckles, “it should be,” his hands drop to your waist as he buries his face in your neck, placing kisses there too, “I can’t believe you’re this innocent.”

He feels you lean into his touch, “you know, you look so pretty in my sweatshirt, baby girl,” he slides his hands under the fabric to touch your skin.

You’re completely drunk on his touch, mind empty, you don’t know how to respond.

“I’ve thought of touching you like this… for a long time,” he says between kisses.

“Really?” you ask, dumbstruck, “why me?”

William pulls away to look at you in the face, “are you serious?” he searches your eyes, “oh honey, you’re so beautiful. Everything about you drives me insane.” Hands still massaging the skin beneath the sweatshirt, “and seeing you in this, in my shirt and these tiny fucking shorts. Oh my god,” William leans in once again, latching onto your neck and sucking a bruise into the skin.

The stimulation sends jolts through your entire body, traveling down to your core between your legs. You grind on William in an attempt to relieve the pressure. He leans back, kissing along your jawline, “does that feel good?” he asks.

You only whine in response.

“Nuh-uh baby don’t play dumb. Use your words, tell me what you feel.”

“Feels good,” you whimper softly. The sound of your desperate voice making his dick strain harder in his slacks.

“Where does it feel good? Tell me.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, “in-in between my legs.”

William runs his middle finger over your clothed mound, “right here?” he asks teasingly, applying pressure to the area he knows your clit will be, and by the pitch increase in your voice he must’ve guessed right.

“Ah! Y-yes!” you press your hips against his touch harder, chasing the stimulation.

William pulls his hand away but before you even get the chance to protest, his fingers are sliding below the waistband of your pyjama shorts. “Right here?” he asks again, running two fingers down across your clit.

You buck uncontrollably against his hand, almost overstimulated having never been touched there in this way before. Not even giving you time to respond, he slides his fingers lower, finding your entrance completely soaked with your arousal.

“Oh baby, you’re so wet for me already. Just for me,” he buries his head in your neck again, inhaling your scent.

William can’t believe he’s really touching you like this, and he’s the first. Your first. His cock pulsing harder at the very thought.

He rubs your pussy slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you too quickly. There’ll be time for that. He spreads your slick all around and up towards your clit, circling over the little nub tenderly.

“A-ah,” you cry, “daddy!”

William groans deep in his chest, “what did you just call me? Say that again,” he demands.

“D-daddy! It- it feels so good…”

“Yeah? You like your daddy touching you like this?” he can feel heat rising all the way to his ears.

You whined against his fingers and pleaded, “please.”

William pulls his hand free from between your legs. You cry out and grind down in his lap harder, trying to get the stimulation back. You look at him with watery eyes. He holds eye contact with you as he brings his fingers coated with your arousal to his lips, before running his tongue over them and sucking them into his mouth. Your jaw goes slack as he moans around his own digits, then pulls them from his mouth, now clean.

“I’ve dreamed of what you might taste like, but the reality is even sweeter,” William cups the back of your neck and pulls you in for another desperate open-mouthed kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue and begin rocking back and forth against the bulge in his trousers.

He pulls back and leaves quick pecks against your lips, “do you want to try touching me, honey?”

You nod quickly, kissing him back every time his lips meet yours.

“Scoot backwards a little,” William takes one of your hands in his, finally releasing your death-grip on his shirt. He presses your palm against his bulge between your legs, sighing at the pressure, “pull the zip down, that’s it.”

You eagerly pull the zipper down and undo the button at the top, your hands freezing when you don’t know what to do next.

You look back up at William for guidance, his gaze dark with eyes full of lust, “you can touch me, it’s ok,” he reassures.

You caress his bulge lightly through his underwear with your fingertips. It was hot and hard, and it made the heat pool between your legs. Carefully, as though it were a dangerous animal, you pull down his underwear over his hard length, freeing it for the second time today. But not that you knew that.

His cock all but sprung out of his underwear, eliciting a guttural moan from William. Unprompted, you take him in your small hand and begin to slide it up and down.

“O-oh fuck, baby girl,” his head falls backwards against the couch cushions, his hands moving to grip you by the thighs, “just like that, a little harder don’t be shy.”

You followed his instructions, pumping his length in one hand with the other pressed against his chest for support. Pearly white liquid seeped from the hole in the tip, and you had the irresistible urge to lick it like an ice cream. Your eyes travelled up William’s body, settling on the expression of pure pleasure on his face. It made you happy that you were able to make your daddy feel good like this.

William couldn’t think straight. Here you were, his beautiful little stepdaughter, sitting on his lap and pumping his cock. He gazes down at you and his heart thuds in his chest watching you lick your lips.

“Here, move down here,” he slides his hands from your thighs to your waist to help you stand, then kneel on the carpet in front of the couch, William caresses the back of your head from where you are between his legs, “why don’t you give it a kiss, hm?”

You lick your lips again, then eagerly lean in closer, pressing your lips to the inflamed tip. Once, then again.

“A-ah! Oh fuck, b-baby,” William’s voice is desperate, he’s never been so aroused in his life, “keep going, don’t stop.”

His dick is hot against your lips. You dare to lick the pre-come from the tip, earning a tighter grip on the back of your head from William’s hand as you swallow down the salty taste. Eagerly wanting to please him, you become bolder. You lick a thick stripe up almost his entire length from base to tip, William watching through hooded eyes. You do it again, and again, flattening your tongue against the hot flesh.

“Here, baby, put it in your mouth,” he instructed, “wrap your lips around it like that I- oh! That’s it, that’s it!”

You take him into your mouth, sucking on him like an ice lolly on a summer’s day. The sounds he’s making prove to you that you’re doing well. You take the bottom half of his cock, the part your mouth can’t reach, and begin pumping him again.

“Oh my god!” William grips your hair in his fist, guiding your mouth up and down faster and harder, “ungh, just like that, just like that baby you’re doing so well. Taking my cock so well.”

He begins thrusting up into your mouth, penetrating deeper, and deeper into you. With one hand remaining on his length, your other hand grips onto his thigh to steady yourself. With tears building in your eyes, it’s almost too much for you to handle but you don’t want to pull away.

William, fucking into your mouth, has lost all sense of morality. His wife, your mother, could walk through the door right now and he would continue to choke you on his cock until he came. Nothing in the world could stop him at this point.

For the second time today, he feels his climax approaching. Chasing the high, he’s entirely consumed by thoughts of you. He no longer needs to imagine scenarios to beat himself off to, he has the real thing on her knees, devoted to him.

He feels your tongue pressing flat against his length, the increase in blood pressure as you suck him in. The lewd sounds you make as you gag around him and saliva dribbles down your chin.

“So close… I’m so close baby girl. Are you gonna swallow all of daddy’s come, are you gonna take what I give you?”

You hum in response around him, and the vibrations are enough to tip him over the edge. William grips your head firm in his hands, holding it still as he fucks into your mouth two… three, more times, before finally stilling mid thrust, and emptying his load into your mouth and down your throat.

The salty liquid hits your tongue, and you swallow it down instinctively. Licking and sucking the hot appendage, making sure you don’t miss a drop.

William relaxes, arms going slack, and he sinks deeper into the couch cushions. You rise from the floor, crawling back onto his lap to be close to him.

“Was that good, daddy?” you ask, voice quiet and shy.

“Oh baby…” William caresses your back and wipes the saliva from your chin. He then pulls you against his chest into an embrace, “that was incredible, my love. You made daddy feel so good, I’m so proud of you.”

You both lie still for a moment, William coming down from his high, and you listening to the thud of his heartbeat through his chest.

William brushes your hair back, away from your neck, before placing a kiss there, then another, then biting softly, “do you want daddy to thank you, hm?” his breath is hot against your neck.

Once again beginning to squirm in his lap, you nodded your head against his chest. He pushes you up to a seated position, sliding his hands under his shirt to caress the skin of your waist again, “I want you to use your words, baby girl. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to make me feel good too, daddy. I want you to touch me again…”

He pecks you on the lips, then pulls his sweatshirt over your head in one swift motion, revealing your bare chest right in front of his eyes. Wiliam places a kiss to the centre of your chest, right on the breastbone, before moving across to the left, to suck and nibble at the plush flesh of your breast. His right hand sliding up your body to cup the other one on the right side. Your breathing immediately becomes laboured, William sucking a nipple into his mouth, biting and leaving bruises in his wake.

You were soft beneath his fingers. He felt a twinge in his crotch, becoming aroused all over again by the way you moaned and arched your back into him. William kissed his way lower, as low as this position would allow, before scooping you up in his arms and laying you flat on your back on the couch.

Your eyes widened but were filled with desire as he loomed over your small frame beneath him. He resumed his pathway, tongue trailing down over your abdomen, finally reaching the prize between your legs.

William wasted absolutely no time, whipping off your pyjama shorts, leaving you bare save your white panties. He pressed a kiss to the fabric covering your mound, moving lower and pushing your legs further apart. His mouth watered at the smell of your arousal, eyeing the dark spot on your panties where it had soaked through. He licked a stripe up your soaking cunt through the material, just like you had done to his cock earlier.

“Oh! Oh fuck,” your back arched, your walls clenched around nothing, and you gripped the cushions tight in your hands to ground you.

The taste on his tongue sweet and a little bitter. Your panties clung to your skin, the large man between your thighs making them wetter and wetter with every swipe of his tongue.

With one hand, William pinned your hips down into the soft couch cushions, the other one pressing firmly against your pussy through your panties. He circled his fingers around your clit, high pitched moans tumbling from your lips as you try to grind forward seeking some kind of release.

William, deciding he couldn’t wait any longer, hooked his fingers in the waistband of your soiled panties, pulling them down your thighs and all the way off your legs, discarding them on the ground.

He couldn’t believe the sight before his eyes. Your pussy, swollen and glistening with your arousal, right in front of him. Close enough to stick his tongue out and taste you, and that’s what he did. He buried his face in your cunt and ate you out like a man starved.

You cry out, high pitched and needy. You’ve never felt anything like this before, the way the hot muscle of his tongue slides expertly through your folds, the tip circling your clit, moving back down to poke at your entrance.

The heat was pooling between your legs rapidly, jolts of pleasure were coursing through your body, building in intensity. More, and more. You had no idea such an intense pleasure existed.

William tentatively pressed an index finger to your entrance, you felt your walls stretch and flesh burn as he pushed in deeper, and deeper. You twitched and squirmed under his grip, until the digit was pressed inside you all the way to the knuckle. He pumped it in and out, slow at first, then picking up the pace.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?” William’s voice was heavy with arousal.

The muscles in your stomach twitched, “A-ah, s’good,” your voice was hoarse, “feels so good, ‘ve never felt t-this before, ah!”

“Yeah? Do you want daddy to add one more?”

You can only manage a groan in response.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” William pressed kisses to the flesh of your thighs, his beard scratching your skin, before slowly working another thick finger into your cunt. Taking it as a success when you scream his name and press yourself down harder against him.

William thrusts his fingers firm and deep, curling them every now and again to catch your G-spot, you probably didn’t even know what that was, he thought. He brings his lips to your core again, gently flicking his long tongue over your clit, pressing flat against it, circling around, sucking it into his mouth and biting lightly with his teeth.

You twitch and writhe in place, feeling pressure build within you. Your thighs flex by his head, one of his hands gripping the flesh there hard enough to bruise.

“D-daddy,” you cry.

William raises his head, “I know baby girl, let it happen. Just relax and let go for me,” he goes back to sucking harshly on your clit, fingers fucking into you a little harder than before.

The air feels cold against your skin, the pressure builds higher and higher, your legs tense and toes curl. Your muscles tense more and more, and tighter and tighter. William flicks his tongue over your clit one last time, then all of a sudden, your entire body is convulsing. Your thighs flex and spasm at either side of William’s head.

You scream out and shudder under your stepfather’s touch, “shh that’s it baby, that’s it. Come for daddy, that’s it beautiful,” his pulsing fingers slowed as you rode out your first orgasm, hips rolling against his hand.

Just like William earlier, you go limp against the couch. You can feel aftershocks pulse through your body and down your legs. William pulls his fingers out slowly and you watch through exhausted eyes as he sucks them into his mouth and licks them clean, devouring every morsel of your arousal that coated them.

William holds you by the waist and leans over you kissing your neck softly, moving up to your jawline, before finally connecting his lips to yours. The kiss is deep and full of desire.

He pulls away briefly, “you did so well for me, my little bunny,” then kisses you again, “did that feel good?”

You couldn’t speak. Fatigue engulfed every cell in your boy, all you could do was kiss him back lazily.

“Ohh, did I fuck my baby dumb with my fingers, hm?” William strokes his thumbs over your nipples, your body twitches and you whimper beneath him.

Your whole body was still on fire, you ached for him to touch you again. To bring you to the edge over and over, senses filled with only him. Your fingertips brushed the fabric of his dishevelled shirt, pulling him down closer to you.

Not even fully aware of your own actions, your fingers found the buttons of his shirt and began undoing them, one by one. Lust burned within William; you don’t want to stop… you want more. His lips meet yours once more, with an intensity this time.

He pressed that long tongue of his into your mouth, exploring every curve, devouring you ravenously. After releasing the final button, he shrugged out of the crumpled yellow shirt and tossed it on the ground where your clothes lie. Smoothly, without breaking the kiss, William hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and pulls them down along with his trousers. He kicks them off and kneels over you, entirely bare on the couch.

William parts your legs to wrap your thighs around his waist. He shuffles forward, a deep, guttural moan spilling from his mouth into yours as his cock, hardening once more, makes contact with your soaking cunt.

Your hips react instinctively, rolling and grinding your core into his. William rocking his own hips rhythmically, sliding deliciously through your folds. The tip of his member bumps your sensitive clit inciting a whine from you in response.

Both of you are a mess of whimpers and groans, grinding and thrusting furiously against each other. A sweat breaks out on William’s skin. He pulls back away from your mouth to kneel up straight, gazing down at where your bodies connect with blurry eyes.

He takes his solid cock in his hand, feeling the blood pulsate through the skin, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so hard in my life… for anyone,” he presses the tip directly through your folds, gathering your arousal. “Do you see what you do to me, baby girl? Look at how hard daddy is for you.”

You lean up on your elbows and follow his gaze down between your legs. William sliding his cock through your slick is a sight to behold. Feeling his heat pulse and throb against your sensitive skin.

You only now realise just how big he is in comparison to you. Knowing full well how much you struggled to take him into your mouth earlier, you feel a sense of panic begin to rise in your chest.

William notices this, and cups your face in his large palm, “don’t worry, honey. Remember what I said? I’m going to take good care of you.”

He takes your hips in both hands and begins to press directly against your entrance, immediately feeling resistance there.

“Oh… Oh my god,” you collapse down onto your back again. Legs parting wider as though that’ll help to accommodate your stepfather’s girth more.

“Breathe for me, bunny. I need you to relax,” William’s voice is thick with need. The need to pound you with all his strength, until your voice breaks and you spill all over him. But he must be patient.

He slides through your folds again, tip bumping your clit a couple of times and making you spasm beneath him before pressing against your tight hole once more. Pushing further and further. More and more.

The pressure ten times more intense than when he entered you with his thick fingers. Curse words spill from your lips, your hands grip William’s arms where he’s holding you firm by the hips. Your breasts squeezed together and heaving with the intensity of your breaths.

One of his thumbs moves to circle your clit, trying to ease the tension in your body. You whine and writhe and beg, a litany of “please”, and “oh god”. William presses harder still, until the bulbous head of his cock pushes through. Your entrance finally yielding to him.

He continues to strum your clit soothingly and gently, allowing you time to get used to the intrusion.

“Talk to me, how does it feel, baby?”

You pant desperately, “s’good… I-ah!” your hips twitch, “It feels so good daddy, you feel s-so good!”

“Oh, honey… I told you it should feel good. You’re being such a good girl for me; I love hearing your beautiful voice.”

William pulls back slightly, and tentatively pushes into you further, groaning when his length does indeed penetrate you deeper. You’re so tight. Never in his life has William felt a pussy like yours, it’s like you were made just for him. He could probably come inside you right here and now, but he fights with all his strength to supress the urge.

He pulls out a little, then slides in again, and again. Over and over. Around half of his length is inside you now, and you’ve never felt anything like it before.

The burn, the stretch… It should be uncomfortable, but it isn’t. Your back arches and your hips rock. You want more. All you can think of is more. More of him, your daddy. More of his kisses, more of his cock, more pleasure. More, more, more.

Tears spill from the corners of your eyes, the feeling is so intense. William picks up the pace, spurred on by the wails slipping past your lips. With every thrust he dives into you deeper, exploring the uncharted territory of your walls, whimpering himself when he feels your cunt squeeze him even tighter.

With every thrust he reaches deeper into you, until he realises his cock is sheathed entirely inside you, “Ah! Oh baby, my baby girl…”

William pulls out, leaving only the tip still buried inside, then plunges back into you all the way to the hilt.

“Daddy!” you cry, feeling every bump and ridge of his length stretch you out.

That word provokes him further, he’s pumping into you relentlessly focusing on chasing his own building high, that knot getting tighter and tighter in the base of his cock.

“Are you close, baby? Are you gonna come again, all over your daddy’s cock this time?”

“P-please daddy, please,” you cry, “I n-need… I want-”

William takes your thigh in his hand, pressing your leg back towards your chest to achieve a deeper angle inside your cunt, “what do you need my bunny? Tell daddy.”

The stimulation you’re receiving leaves you speechless. You babble obscenely and incoherently, fists gripping onto anything you can reach. William’s arms, the couch cushions, your own breasts to pinch at your nipples.

You are completely drunk on the pleasure your stepdad is providing you. Feeling the burn inside begin to peak again just like when he fucked you with his fingers, “daddy, I’m gonna… Oh! I’m gonna-”

“That’s a good girl, come for daddy. Come for me,” William pants, his thumb rhythmically stroking across your clit, assisting you to the peak of your climax.

Arching your back, feeling your walls begin to clench, the heat intensifies until it’s a burning, white hot fire inside you. You scream as your orgasm wracks through your body, wilder than the last one, your whole body shaking and spasming uncontrollably. Your mind delirious with pure pleasure.

William’s grip on both your thigh and hips turns bruising as you come violently on his cock. Your walls pulsating and gripping him, pushing him over the edge of his own orgasm. He pulls you forcefully down against his hips one final time, before stilling, and emptying his seed deep inside you.

He stays there for a moment, until his dick is no longer twitching, and he collapses down on top of you. Both of you breathless and writhing, riding out the most intense orgasms you’ve ever experienced. William holds you by your waist, his face once more buried in your neck. You both cling to each other, skin sticky with sweat, eyes closed as the rush dissipates.

William strokes your skin soothingly, “you’re such a good girl,” he praises, “such a good girl for your daddy.”

You sigh and curl into his embrace. Perfectly content.

“Now baby,” he leans up to look you in the eyes, “this is very important, okay? You can’t tell your mother what we did tonight. It has to be our little secret or we won’t ever get to do it again, do you understand.”

You nod curtly, “I won’t tell, I promise.”

“Good girl,” William presses a kiss to your lips, pulling back when you turn to yawn. “Do you want to come upstairs to bed with me? You can sleep in daddy’s big bed, but we have to keep that a secret from mom too, okay?”

“I’d love to,” your eyes sparkle.

William kisses you once more, before sitting up again and gently pulling out from inside your hot pussy. Your muscles pulse and you sigh at the loss of contact.

“Are you okay?” he checks.

“Just a little sore,” you confess.

“Oh baby,” he pulls you up to a sitting position and strokes your cheek, “come upstairs with me. I’ll take care of you.”

#fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf smut #five nights at freddy's #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton smut #steve raglan #my works

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pseudowho · 6 months

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Infiltration, Chapter Four: The Rumbling Shrine

Nanami Kento and the reader must pretend to be married to infiltrate a deadly Curse-user cult and take it down from the inside.

*SMUT/NSFW/18+ BEGINS HERE*

A slow-burn fic with fluff/comfort, angst, smut and heroics from our favourite salaryman.

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A rumble, as deep as the earth and centuries old, shook through the Shrine. The inhabitants of the Temple below treated the monstrous groan with casual indifference; a pair of caretakers barely paused in their conversation as they held wobbling effigies in place, and the cleaner grumbled as he fetched his dustpan and brush to collect the drifts of plaster tumbling from the ceiling.

Inside the Shrine, the man who had lost his wife to battle, fought the desperate fight of a man who had lost everything. Covered in blood and standing over the shattered body of a Shrine attendant, his Shikigami fled from him as an ancient roar shook his bones. Devastated by his abandonment, The Fathers restrained him once more as he cried out, thrashing, legs flailing in a mad dance.

A second man, whose wife had forsaken him, was paralysed with terror, sweating and shaking as he stared down the barrel of a gun, knowing he was next.

As the widower was dragged, still crying out for the ghost of his wife, the rumble grew deep, and hungry.

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It felt like you had cried into Kento's chest for hours. The smears and splatters of your blood in his shirt were now watered down by your tears, pale red and sickly-looking. Patiently, and needing to hold you as much as you needed to be held, Kento stroked your hair, his chest occasionally giving low, consonant words of reassurance that you drank in, soothed.

Eventually, with a shaky sigh, you sat up, and wiped your eyes with conviction.

"I'm fine. I'm okay. I'm just...angry. Annoyed. If I'd been able to fight properly, I might have been able to take her."

Kento's frown was deep and ominous, "You shouldn't have had to. These people are monsters and I...I should have stepped in sooner," his voice grew tight. You shook your head, conviction remaining.

"You made the safest choice. I made the safest choice. If I'd have fought with my abilities, if we'd refused the fight, if you had called for help or stepped in too soon...we'd have given ourselves away. Things could have been so much worse."

Kento hadn't yet let go of you, allowing you to sit up, but still holding you tightly between his parted thighs. He looked away from you, face grim, with a thousand-yard stare. You held his face gently between your hands, pulling him back to you.

"I mean to see this through, Kento. I have to. I need to." Kento's expression grew momentarily pained as he swallowed hard, nodding.

"Anything else like that, though," he urged, "and I will end this and call for help. Whether you agree to it or not." Pausing for thought, you nodded slowly. Kento squeezed your upper arms, but let go quickly as you winced.

"Shit, I'm sorry. We need to fix you up," Kento grumbled, heading to the kitchen and searching through cabinets. Not finding what he wanted, he continued grumbling while you watched him fondly, imagining him as an old man, smitten at the thought of his liver-spotted hands and comfortable cardigans.

You crawled gingerly to your suitcase, and, grabbing your keys, hacked through a fabric panel in the casing, revealing a host of first-aid and medical supply items.

"Kento," you beckoned. He stood over you, looking down at your suitcase. His eyes crinkled at you in a soft smile.

"Clever girl," he said, kneeling and rummaging as you blushed furiously. Kento surveyed you, crouched on his haunches, his thighs looking deliciously thick as the fabric of his tuxedo stretched around them. You gulped, his eyes burning holes through your dress; your wounds were still filled with dirt and gravel. Kento cleared his throat.

"Can you get cleaned up alone, or...?" You flapped your hands at him, blush deepening as the tips of his ears turned pink. Mumbling reassurances to him, you took yourself to the shower, washing your tender wounds to the best of your ability. Your arms and legs were laden with grazes, and a huge purple bruise blossomed over your ribcage and belly. You thanked your lucky stars that you didn't have anything worse.

Wrapping yourself in a towel, you peeked out of the bathroom door. Kento looked up, waiting for you with various antiseptics and bandages. He cleared his throat again, looking down at his arrangement while he held his hand out to you. Padding over to him, blushing at your state of undress, you took his hand and he helped you to sit in front of him.

Wordlessly, Kento glanced to you for permission before starting to dab your grazes with antiseptic. Unflinching, you were used to far worse than this. Kento worked on you while you rested your chin on your knees, deep in thought.

"I...never had a chance to thank you," you said, so quiet that Kento held his breath to hear you.

"For what?"

"For getting me out that-- that day." Kento blinked, surprised that you remembered. He remembered it well-- being the First-Grade called to go and manage the Curse that had killed one Second-Grade and wounded another. Being the one to find you, slumped on the cold concrete, bloodied, clutching your best friend's mangled body while you stared lifelessly into the darkness. Being the one (his heart breaking for you, the woman he was growing to love) who had eased your friend's body out of your cold, clutching fingers, and shielded your view as the body was zipped up into black plastic. Being the one to drive you home, the car silent, rain hammering down on the windows, as orange streetlights illuminated the tears streaking down your cheeks.

Kento gulped, blinking back tears, remembering how Suguru, his lost friend, had once done that for him. Remembering Suguru's soft words of reassurance and hands clasping his upper arms tightly. Remembering how he, too, was once so close to following Suguru down a similar path, not once blaming him, but blaming the system that saw fit to sacrifice so many.

"I--" Kento's voice cracked, "I wouldn't have left you alone like that. I just wish-- I wish you'd have called me...after." He kicked himself mentally, not wanting to blame you for your self-isolation, not wanting to put himself first, "I would have been there for you. If you had wanted. I hope...I hope you know that."

You shook your head, "No. I already feel bad enough making you relive your own...losing Haibara...it wasn't fair for me to put that on you."

Kento grumbled in disagreement, "I can honestly say I've had little in the way of friends since Yuu died. You're the best...the closest friend I've had since. I'd have wanted to be there for you. I--" Kento swallowed thickly, "I still want to be there for you. As a friend, or...or anything, really."

Heat crept down the back of your neck. Was that...did he just...? Your mind reeled at the near-confession. Am I just...imagining things? Your mind worked at a hundred miles per hour.

Kento cursed himself, taking your silence as awkwardness. He moved swiftly on, "I need to look at your ribs," he said, voice tight again, "So if you get under the covers and keep your towel over your chest I can check them for breaks."

You nodded, pink cheeked, and he turned while you lay down in the futon, lower half covered by blankets and breasts loosely concealed behind your towel. With your arm over your eyes, Kento turned to take you in, his breath catching at your body, just a few thin sheets of fabric away from total exposure, in your shared bed.

You jumped when Kento's broad, warm palms flattened softly against the bruise across your ribs. You could swear you felt every inch of skin individually as his deft hands worked over your ribs, feeling for fractures. You wished his hands would work higher, and lower, fingers rolling your nipples and slipping between your legs, feeling your pulse in your clit as you prayed Kento would make a move, fully open to being taken by him, then and there, in your futon.

Kento was meticulous, his focus split between wanting to take care of you, and wanting to take care of you. He wanted to make sure your ribs weren't broken. He wanted to remove your arm from your eyes. He wanted to rub ointment into the bruising. He wanted you to watch him as he kissed down your body, his tongue settling between your legs to finally taste you. He wanted you to sigh with relief as he tended to your pain. He wanted you to sigh and pull his hair as you called his name in pleasure.

Barely able to conceal the growing stretch in his trousers, he settled for checking for fractures and dabbing ointment, but your sighs of relief still went straight through him in a way he found distractingly arousing. He stood, turning his back to you, forcing out to you: "Go and get dressed. We should get some sleep."

The air was thick between you both as you prepared for bed. Lying down together, so many words unspoken in the dark, little sleep would be had that night.

A quiet voice spoke out; "Thank you."

A warm hand reached out, small fingers clasped against it, squeezing, sharing that nothing was owed and everything was yet to play for.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento and you had been left, suspiciously undisturbed, for two full days. The morning after the welcome party, a basket of treats, medicines and an apology note had been delivered to the house by the Fathers' wives. Kento had invited them in, and they had wittered sympathetically about the bruised and injured state of you, as if they hadn't been completely party to the savage beating.

Kento had been the picture of an attentive husband-- you felt, surprisingly naturally, almost as if he wasn't even acting-- and so the wives had wittered about how kind and dutiful he was, how fortunate you were, and what a lovely father Kento would make. You had demurred, agreeing with everything, and Kento hid his face in the cupboards, pretending to look for more tea.

As the wives left, you and Kento spoke, Kento locking the basket away in a cabinet with a sour look on his face.

"They really want you in their little club, don't they?" you hummed, taking a bite of your toast.

"Don't be so sure that it's only about me," Kento mused, "I actually think we may have caused a little disagreement between the Fathers that night." You tilted your head sideways, a silent gesture for Kento to continue. "Father Shinzu likened you to the Cursed-technique users of the Inumaki clan. My guess is, Father Tatsu was prioritising growing the Cult's raw strength, while Father Shinzu was interested in the potential of your technique."

"I mean, Father Shinzu's right. If we had kids, my ability with your added power behind it? Oof." You continued to eat your toast thoughtfully, while Kento imagined being surrounded by your babies, daydreaming about tiny clothes and tiny footsteps.

Kento had kept up appearances over these two days, heading out to the shops for food, talking to the residents of the village, all of whom now seemed very interested in the new couple who were madly devoted to each other, even enough to risk their lives to defend each other within this community. Word seemed to have got out that you, as a couple, should be nurtured, lest you wish to leave.

As such, Kento had returned home that afternoon with matching new gloves from the knitting woman, a full bag of shopping ("on the house" the shopkeeper insisted with a wink), an invitation to visit the Shrine, and a lot of information.

"The gossip you overheard from the tea shop ladies was accurate," Kento assured, unpacking bags while you admired the matching gloves, secretly thrilled, "the librarian up at the Temple is responsible for records of members, current and present. I imagine that would include logs on their activities, in and out of the Community. And the library is actually open to residents."

"Perfect," you chirped, clapping your hands together, "So, if we can get out some information about those outside the Community, the other sorcerers can hunt them down, and we could handle inside."

"Exactly," Kento agreed, pressing a mug of tea to your hands. Doing this, with you, felt so...natural. He had taken untold amounts of pride in taking care of you. Even better, you had happily accepted his assistance. You seemed so much brighter than you had been, just a fortnight before, when you had been given this mission. That alone, thought Kento, makes this all worth it.

The truth was, Kento had long-since been your candle in the dark. You recalled long evenings in with your deceased friend, a pizza between you, as you had poured your feelings out about Nanami Kento, and she had smiled knowingly, excited by your blossoming love. She had joked about being your Maid of Honour, you recalled with a deep pang of pain. At this moment, you wanted nothing more than for this to be real-- not as Mrs.Tsuda, but as Mrs.Nanami instead. His. And he, yours.

"Tomorrow, then," Kento spoke, sitting with you and flipping open his book, "we go to the Shrine, as invited, and then to the Library."

"You flirt with the librarian, and I gather the intel. Right."

"The librarian's a man."

"So? You don't know his taste. Don't be so narrow-minded, Kento."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"It needs more," a furious voiced hissed in the dark, fragrant heat of the Shrine, "it grows hungrier and it angers."

"Calm yourself," a measured voice urged, soft and slow, "it is not towards us that the anger is directed." A lantern was gestured towards a deep pit dug through the ground in the middle of the Shrine, within which something huge and shapeless writhed and whispered.

"The sacrifices are sufficient. One of the shopkeepers found their protective amulet missing yesterday, and the Goddess did not even rise to seek food amongst the villagers."

Father Tatsu sneered, but quietened, satisfied. "With the backing of the Goddess, in her new vessel, our numbers will grow soon. Their children will draw from her power should the women gestate close to her." Father Shinzu nodded, smiling, placating.

"Exactly so," he pressed, "and recruitment is going well. Many approached couples are accepting our offer. And the ones who don't, well..." Father Shinzu's lantern light seemed to dim as tendrils from the pit ebbed ever closer, "...she does need feeding, after all."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You were never not excited to visit a library, but saw fit to remind yourself that today you had a plan- get in, gather intelligence, get out. Kento would occupy the librarian to give you time.

But, to begin, hand in hand in your new matching gloves, you walked together past the houses and river, through the village centre, and up a steep, winding path towards the Shrine. Away from the vestiges of Cursed-energy of other inhabitants of the village, you and Kento felt an almost overwhelming pressure of older, darker Cursed-energy wash over you as you walked up the hill.

You pushed through, your steps growing heavier, like walking through treacle. The very trees seemed to bend away from the Shrine, leaning in desperate escape, unwillingly held by their roots. You continued up the steps, but stopped, realising Kento had fallen behind.

Kento was leaned backwards against the trunk of an old tree, eyes closed and breathing through his nose. You hurried back to him, your hand gentle on his arm.

"Kento? You look pale. Do you need to go back?"

Kento shook his head slowly, trying and failing to swallow his nausea, "You're not going up there alone. I just...I feel like I've felt Cursed-energy like this somewhere before. It's..."

"...it's vile," you finished for him. Looking up towards the Shrine, eyes narrowed, you felt something huge, something corrupted within. You had to know more. You reached out for Kento's hand, plaiting your fingers through his.

"Can you make it?" You urged, apologetic. Kento blew a long breath out through pursed lips, but nodded, standing again and moving to you.

"Wait! Mr and Mrs.Tsuda! Stop!" A panicked voice beckoned you back down the steps; it was the gardener you had spoken with before, and he hobbled up the steps as fast as his arthritic knees could carry him. He reached you, breathless, smiling wanly.

"I'm afraid the Shrine is closed for visitors today," he puffed, dabbing his brow with a slightly muddy cloth, "there's quite an important ceremony going on up there. I'm sure the Fathers will be filling you all in at the weekly gathering tomorrow."

Kento bowed, thanking the gardener, and you headed together past him on your descent, feeling his eyes burning into your backs the whole way down. Rounding the corner, you and Kento shared a sideways glance, uncertain but foreboding.

You sighed, in silent dread of things to come. From the way Kento squeezed your hand, his thumb stroking over the back of it occasionally, he felt the same. He seemed lost in deep thought. He was, in fact, deeply troubled, desperately hunting through memories to find where he had felt Cursed-energy like that before.

"To the library, then," you offered weakly as Kento hummed his assent. Distracted by a fresh aim, Kento nodded confidently, looking down at you.

Kento stopped walking as you approached the Temple doors; still holding your hand, and pulling you back to him, you bumped to a stop against his chest. He gently pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger, and your heart skipped a beat as his honeyed eyes crinkled at you.

"You've got this," he urged. Fingering the pen and notepad in your pocket, and nodding with a blush, your mind stuttered to a halt as Kento pressed a kiss to your forehead. You leaned into it, eyes fluttering closed, wondering how his lips would feel against your own. Unable to resist, and pulling him close, you squeezed him to ground yourself, and he chuckled, arms around you feeling so solid and warm.

The library was small, and friendly, round the back of the Temple. Shown to it by the same older woman in a kimono who had shown you to the waiting room on the first day, you greeted a few other couples who browsed the bookshelves. The librarian, a grizzled-looking elderly man with bushy eyebrows, was already lost in conversation with another couple. Holding you by the elbow, Kento pulled you behind bookshelves and leaned in to whisper.

"The librarian hasn't spotted us yet. The records room is at the back. We'll go together." Recognising that some of the other couples present were those at the spar, and leaking significant amounts of Cursed-energy, Kento felt sick with fear at the thought of you being isolated in the records room, away from him. You agreed, and, suppressing your Cursed-energy together, and stalking round the edges of the bookshelves, you approached the records room, the door slightly ajar.

"They obviously think they vet their recruits well enough," Kento murmured, slipping into the room behind you, leaving the door ajar as it had been. Kento stood at the edge of the doorway, keeping watch. The room was small, meticulously organised, with a small writing desk and a set of tin filing cabinets.

You set to work quickly, slipping the cabinets open, and ascertaining the systems in place- recruits, listed alphabetically by surname, coloured tabs attached to some, indicating a key of some kind. You flicked through, encountering a folder with a familiar name, the front of the folder now emblazoned with red stamped letters: DECEASED.

"Kento," you hissed, and he looked to you, "what was the name of that Cult member you and Gojo killed near that club?"

Kento's eyes flicked downwards for a moment, then back to you, "Matsumoto."

You nodded. The name matched. There was a yellow tab attached to the folder. Finding half a dozen other folders with yellow tabs attached, you opened them, reading neatly handwritten file notes one by one. Bingo, you thought.

Each yellow-tabbed file had notes describing where the individual had been sent for recruitment of new members. Location updates were neatly listed within the notes, most as recent as the day before. You pulled out your notebook and pen, copying the details, one by one, thorough and quick.

Kento called your name, hushed. You, distracted, didn't answer, lost in completing your note taking. Kento called your name again, hushed and frantic.

Looking up at him, you followed where he stared, alarmed and stock-still, at something small and brown on the floor. You frowned, leaning over the desk, looking closer.

"Is that...?"

"A rat," Kento finished, "A very...interested rat, with quite a lot of Cursed-energy...for a rat." Inquisitive, the rat looked at Kento, and then at you, before scurrying away out of the door of the records room.

"Shit," Kento hissed, "shit--" rushing over to you as you hurriedly packed away the files, everything in its rightful place, hiding your notebook and pen within your clothes. Kento grabbed you by the elbow, staring around the room and indecisive for a split second, before yanking you bodily into a narrow cupboard.

You squeaked as you pressed close against Kento, and the door closed with a resounding click. In the dark, the smell of stationery, paper and Kento filling your nose, your hands pressed to his chest and his knee between your legs, your heart pounded as you heard a voice start to approach the records room.

A weak band of light seeped in through a tiny window above your head, dust motes floating idly through, as you looked at Kento in alarm. Reaching out with your Cursed-technique, you felt the edge of the mind of the librarian, approaching alone, and tried to drop a thought into his mind; I'm sure it's nothing, I don't need to go and check, but the suggestion didn't take hold, slipping from the surface like oil off a hot pan, and you shook your head frantically at Kento. His eyes were wide, calculating options at a rapid pace.

"Someone in there, hmm?" The Librarian spoke to his rat, seemingly able to communicate with it in a way nobody else could, "Alright. Away with you. I'll sort it out." A small scurrying noise. Footsteps into the room, a door closing quietly.

"Oh god, I...I'm so sorry." Kento stared down at you in grim conviction, your bodies hot and pressed together. Hands hurried, Kento ran his hands through his own hair, messing it up. He loosened his tie to hang open, round his neck, and undid several buttons of his shirt, untucking it next and undoing the button and zipper of his trousers. You stared at him, mouth agape.

His hands rushed to you, sinking into your hair right to the roots and ruffling it, before reaching down and lifting your shirt as you squeaked in alarm, bra revealed and breasts almost falling free, and his hands dropped to your jeans to undo the button and unzip them, the lace of your underwear now peeking through.

Kento thrust his knee between your legs, lifting you bodily against the wall. You had a single flat second to stare into his eyes as you felt the librarian approach your door. Kento's hands gripped the sides of your face, fingers deep in your hair. He leaned in close, your hands clutching the front of his shirt now. His hot breaths mingled with your own.

Kento kissed you, hot and desperate, his tongue parting your lips, as the cupboard door clicked open.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Chapter Five: Breaking Point, link HERE!

@angelofthorr @nn-hh192 @vxmethyst @moonmalice @daisynik7 @heyitsmirae @black-swan-blog27 @shamelessreaderthere @orikuu

478 notes · View notes

bussyslayer333 · 2 years

Text

Candy

summary: bob falls for a beautiful barista over the course of a few encounters.

pairing: robert floyd x hotbarista!reader

word count: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, jake being an asshat, bob having some self doubt but he gets over it, smutty smut smut at the end, sort of mentions of an age gap??

MDNI this is an 18+ fic

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The first time Bob saw you was a Monday morning, he was meeting Phoenix and Rooster on his day off for coffee at a new place in town. It was a cute cafe, full of pastels and pastries and a little bell that jingled when he stepped in. The interior was larger than what he had expected, there were many booths, and a few tables by the front window. Phoenix and Rooster had managed to snag a cosy booth towards the corner of the room. He approached them with a smile on his face, happy to see his friends.

“Hey guys-”

“Bob, move!” Phoenix seethes slightly.

“Nice to see you too.” Bob rolls his eyes, sliding into the booth next to Bradley.

Bradley offers Bob an explanation, “There’s a super hot barista making our drinks right now.”

“Oh, fair enough.” Bob smiles, craning his neck around and trying to see who his friends were talking about.

Phoenix pipes up, “and when he says hot, we’re talking a total smoke show, like i’m pretty sure Rooster is still sporting a semi from when she asked if he wanted cream or not.”

“I am not!” Bradley whines, the tips of his ears tinged pink.

Bob was about to put his two cents on the situation, when suddenly his two friends were silenced from their bickering by a presence he felt over his shoulder.

“One double espresso and one peppermint latte?”

Phoenix beats Bradley for speaking first and Bob recognises her best flirtiest smile.

“Yeah, that’s us.” She says coolly.

“How could I forget?” The voice behind him teases as she places the drinks down, Bob watches Bradley’s cheeks flush again.

Finally, Bob turns to look at the alluring voice, only he hasn’t given you enough time to pull back from placing the drinks down and he finds his face hitting your cleavage. You make a shocked noise, and pull back giggling.

“That’s one way to make me take your order.”

Bob wished the earth would swallow him whole in that moment.

“God, I’m so sorry!” Bob pushes the words out of his mouth frantically.

Phoenix was never wrong, you were totally hot, but not just that, Bob thought. You were beautiful, and clearly funny, probably clever as well, kind (and he wouldn’t have ever said it but you had a great rack).

Phoenix butts in before Bob can ramble more apologies, “He’ll have a cappuccino.”

Bob watches you scribble down his order, in a little notepad you pulled from a pocket in the front of your pink half apron, tied neatly around your waist.

“Perfect.”

You smile down at him, and saunter off. Presumably, to make his drink. He wonders how you don’t notice the three pairs of eyes that watch as you walk away. You’re wearing tight black jeans and a tight cream long sleeve top, the pink apron creating a sweet contrast in your outfit. Once you’re out of earshot, Bradley and Nat finally allow themselves to cackle at Bob’s misfortune.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Bradley snorts.

Nat chokes slightly on her espresso before speaking up as well, “Sorry, I just remembered the panicked look on your face again.”

Bob groans, placing his head into his hands. He knew more often than not that girls like you didn’t go for guys like him, but now he had definitely fucked it. He watches as you make his drink, giggling with one of your coworkers as you work the machines. He imagines you’re telling him about the dork who just accidentally motorboated you trying to stutter out a one word order and groans again.

Bradley takes sympathy on Bob’s groaning and stifles his chuckles, “It’s not that bad! At least you got boobs in your face!”

Bob watches as Nat flicks Bradley in the head, mumbling something about him being a caveman.

“One cappuccino for the cute glasses guy who is now well acquainted with my boobs?” He can hear you giggle as you place the coffee down in front of him.

“That’s me.” Bob says with a hint of awkwardness, pointing his thumbs at himself. Was that an embarrassing thing to do? Probably. But you’re laughing and all Bob can think about his how much he wants to see you do it again.

“Is there anything else I can get you guys?” You ask with a smile on your face.

“We’re good, thank you.” Bradley gets there before Nat this time and pumps his fist under the table.

“I’ll be over here if you need me.” You reply and wander off again, hips swaying.

Bob is reminded of a saying he hears Jake using far too often to girls in the Hard Deck, it usually makes him mildly nauseous but now seems fitting. He does hate to see you go but love to watch you leave.

Nat pipes up again but this time in complaint, “How do you do it, Floyd?”

Bob cocks his head to the side, silently asking her to elaborate.

“She called you ‘cute glasses guy’, you’re so in there.”

Bob’s eyebrows raise so high he’s pretty sure they’re at his hairline. Did you actually call him cute?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The second time Bob has the pleasure of seeing you, he’s collecting caffeine for the team with Jake during a break after a particularly early start on the Friday of that same week. He’d been thinking about you for the past few days non stop, so when Phoenix suggested a coffee run, he knew exactly where to go.

What he should have bet on, was Jake also deciding you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Jesus Christ.” Jake drawled out.

Bob knew Jake had spotted you. Lo and behold, you were behind the counter, bent over trying to reach one of the syrup pumps. Same tight black jeans hugging your hips, this time paired with an old band t-shirt. You spin on your heel after hearing Jake’s exclamation, and start to recite your company’s spiel when a spark of recognition flashes across your face.

“Cute glasses guy!” You say almost excitedly.

Bob feels the heat rising in his cheeks as he watches Jake spin around and try and assess the area to see if there were any other dudes wearing glasses in the vicinity. There weren’t.

“Hi.” Bob smiles bashfully.

Jake, who can seemingly never keep his mouth shut decided to pipe up, “I’m feeling a little left out here Bobby, do you two know each other?”

Jake knew damn well how you knew each other, Nat had told everyone as soon as they got back to work. You watched as Bob stumbled over the beginning of a sentence, unsure of how to explain what had happened. You save him from himself and speak up,

“He gave me a very memorable shift on Monday.” You wink at Bob as you say it.

You figured that if this guy was close to Bob, then his other friends had already told him what had happened and he was just trying to rile Bob up.

“It would be my pleasure to give you a memorable shift darlin’.”

Bob rolls his eyes at Jake’s simpering drawl, texan accent heavy on his tongue. Luckily for Bob, you’re just as unimpressed. Usually you like your men a little more… reserved.

“I’m sure it would. What can I get for you today boys?” You ask, directed more towards Bob now.

He whips his phone out and starts reciting the the orders of the team, it’s a tad lengthy but watching you whisper all of his words to yourself again as you use a perfectly manicured hand to tap the drinks into the till makes it worth all the while.

You tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you give him the total, “Will that be with military discount as well?” You gesture towards the two men in uniform. They both nod and you tap in an extra code, bringing the total down significantly.

“I didn’t realise you were military?” You question as you turn around to start making the drinks in the lengthy order, calling another girl out from the back to man the till.

“Naval aviators, sweetheart.” Jake supplies for you. “We’ll I’m a pilot, Bob’s a backseater.”

Bob can’t help but feel like Jake is trying to undermine him slightly. You don’t pick up on it.

“Backseater?” You ask your question directly towards Bob this time.

Bob clears his throat, “Uh yeah, basically I’m a Weapons System Officer, I sit in the back of the plane and man weapons and other stuff.” He didn’t want to bore you.

You smile, “Sounds important, is he your pilot?”You gesture towards Jake.

“No, the woman I was here with on Monday is.”

Your face lights up in recognition, “Oh yeah she was gorgeous! And the guy with the moustache?”

“Yeah he’s a pilot too.” Bob smiles, watching a scowl etch its way onto Jake’s face at the mention of Rooster. He makes a mental note to tell Phoenix what you had said about her.

You’re placing the final drinks down in their holders when Jake finally pipes up again, “You really are beautiful sweetheart.”

His eyes rake all over you, making Bob seethe. You don’t notice the anger radiating off Bob, but flush slightly under the compliment.

“Thanks, flyboy.”

Bob is cursing his lack of confidence, wishing he was the one being labelled with a nickname. He knew you were beautiful, he’d known way before Jake! He looks back up in time for you to hand him a bag with half the drinks inside, the other bag going to Jake.

“It was nice seeing you again Bob.” You preen at him, and add quickly on, “and meeting you, Jake!”

“Anytime, beautiful.” Jake thinks he’s got this one in the bag as he turns around to leave, he’s sure your number is gonna be scrawled on his cup when he opens the bag.

Bob doesn’t miss the way you roll your eyes when your hear the pet name, slyly winking at him once you realise he saw.

Once they’re all back on base handing out the coffees, Jake fully emptied out both the bags of the napkins. He makes a little “aha” noise as he finds what he’s looking for. A napkin with sharpie scrawled over it. His grin is quickly squashed as he throws the napkin in Bob’s direction. It lands on Phoenix’s lap and she reads what the sharpie note says.

cute glasses guy/bob

call me :)

***-***-***

Your name is signed with a little heart next to it at the bottom and Bob can’t help but break out into a wide smile.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The night before Bob next sees you was the Friday of the next week and you had been texting non stop since you had given him your number. You had even followed each other on instagram. Bob had spent the night scrolling through your posts with Phoenix, careful not to like any, so she had been holding the phone.

Every so often, she would stop and zoom in on one. Like the one of you at your most recent birthday, you were a good few years younger than him, he noted your star sign as well. The next few Phoenix stopped and zoomed in on had Bob wishing for an ice cold shower. The first was a few slides of you on vacation with your friends. A few standard group photos (you stood out from them by a mile), and one particularly gorgeous photo of you stood on the terrace of your hotel room; slightly sun kissed wearing a flimsy summer dress and your hair flipped to one side. The sun was setting in the background and Bob was pretty sure he was having some type of angina, but the last picture on the slide is what had him truly breathless. You were on the beach with your hair tied up messily, wearing a pathetic excuse for a bikini, your back was facing the camera but you were looking back at it squinting slightly over your shoulder. Bob didn’t want to seem too creepy, but Nat had thrown all caution to the wind. Immediately zooming in on your ass.

“Damn.” She muttered.

Bob discreetly tried to move the pillow from behind him over his lap. Nat, the ever perceptible noticed immediately and cackled.

“Same.” She patted him on the shoulder.

“Maybe we should stop stalking for the night.” Bob started.

Nat whined like a child being denied candy, “Cmonnnn just one more? Then I’ll never bother you again.”

Bob rolled his eyes and let her continue when she gasped far too theatrically.

“She just posted on her story!”

“Don’t click it-”

He had been far too slow in stopping his nimbled fingered friend.

“Holy shit.”

It was a mirror selfie, your room was lit up only by a warm lamp seen in the corner of the picture. You were posed on your knees wearing only a black high waisted body suit.

“Dude, she’s totally posting thirst traps for you!” Nat squealed.

Bob rolled his eyes, sure it was crazy that you posted something like that just when he was on your account, but how on earth would you know that he would be the first one to see it? There were a number of guys in your comments who you could be trying to impress. Or you could just be posting a photo that you liked.

What Bob and Nat didn’t know, was that you were sat in your room with your best friend Marley. You had been showing her photos from Bob’s instagram account when you received a notification that he had liked your post. It was from a little over a month ago and was slides full of your vacation photos. Marley shrieked.

“Oh my God, he was so stalking you!”

You giggle in realisation, “I hope he comments.”

Marley rolls her eyes, “Sure, Mr ‘I post pictures of cute dogs I see in the street’ is gonna comment on your blatant ass pics.”

You shove her playfully, “You said you liked those pics!”

She smiles, “Of course I do, and so does he clearly. I just don’t know if he’s brave enough to tell you so.”

You cock your head to the side, which eggs her on.

“You should post something, make him comment.”

That’s how you found yourself in the skimpiest piece of clothing you own, being positioned by your friend. Once you hit post, you felt a wave of nausea come over you. Marley noticed as the ever attentive friend she was and took your phone from you. She refreshed it a few times and screamed.

“He’s already viewed it!”

“WHAT?” You shriek far too loudly considering you had downstairs neighbours.

You grab your phone out of her hands to see for yourself. He was there in the viewers, along with your usual people. Then you hear the ping to notify someone has sent you a dm.

“Open it!” Marley says with the most urgency you’ve ever heard.

It’s from Bob.

_rfloyd93

replied to your story

damn 😍

Back in the barracks, Bob is trying to wrestle his phone from Natasha.

“DAMN?! I would never say that! You made me sound like Jake!”

They stop their huffing and puffing so Phoenix can explain. “And when has it ever not worked for him?”

Bob rolls his eyes but doesn’t reply, he knows she’s right.

“Look she’s typing!”

Phoenix shoves his phone back into his hands.

you

like what you see?

Bob shows the message to Phoenix,

“What do i say?!”

Phoenix is much more nonchalant about the situation, she understands now that you definitely like Bob. She’s never seen someone so taken by her shy backseater.

“Just say the truth.” Nat shrugs

Bob types and untypes for a second before sending his message.

_rfloyd93

i’d like it more in person

You shriek once again, showing your phone to Marley who shrieks as well. You can hear your downstairs neighbour Mrs Bellman smacking her broom against the ceiling in hopes that you’ll shut up.

you

my shift ends at 6 tomorrow?

_rfloyd93

i’ll be there

You like his message and flop back on your bed with a dreamy sigh.

Marley laughs, “girl, you have got it bad.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The third time Bob sees you, is the next day when you’ve finished your shift. He’s waiting for you sat in one of the booths near the front, fiddling with his phone. Your coworker Julian points him out to you.

“Boobs guy is sat over there, babe.”

You giggle at him, untying your apron and folding it to put in your tote bag.

“I know, I’m meeting him.”

Julian gasps loudly and you shush him, pushing your finger to his lips. You slowly, pull your finger away and let him speak in a hushed tone.

“Oh my Goddddddd! Tell me everything on Monday please!”

You roll your eyes at him, “You know I will.”

With that you kiss his cheek and wander over to Bob.

“Hey.” You say slightly breathlessly.

He smiles up at you, “Hey.”

He takes in your appearance, signature tight black jeans and he recognises the black body suit, now he knows what it looks like underneath your jeans he flushes slightly. You look down at yourself slightly, placing a hand on your cocked hip.

“Like what you see?” You repeat your words from last night.

Bob flushes further, memories of what he had done after Nat had left last night leaving his cheeks hot to touch.

“You look gorgeous.” He says earnestly, looking up into your eyes.

You cup his cheeks with a hand and smile, “Thanks, Baby. Not too bad yourself.”

Bob feels his jeans tighten and wills himself to think of Grandma Floyd. He finally gets himself to speak, “I was thinking we could go for a walk, maybe get some drinks?”

You pull him up from his seat and link your arm through his, “Sounds perfect.”

Bob knew taking you to the Hard Deck was a risk, but it wasn’t a far walk from the cafe and the service was impeccable.

Pushing through the door he made eye contact with Phoenix first, she gave him a little thumbs. He was already feeling good but that gave him an extra boost of confidence.

During the 10 minute walk to the Hard Deck, you had talked about everything and nothing. Bob found out that your favourite colour was green, you had a pet dog back home called Frank and you had just finished college with a degree in business.

“Not to sound rude, but with a degree in business why do you work in a coffee shop?”

You smile, not taking offense and appreciating his curiosity, “I’m saving up, I want to open a coffee shop of my own, My dad said he could give me money for a deposit but I’m quite close myself now.”

Bob looks at you, wanting you to continue.

“I’ve been saving up since I got my first job in high school.”

Bob notices your confident demeanour has slipped and you seem bashful.

“That’s really cool.” He smiles and you can tell he’s being truthful. “When I was in high school I was a total drama geek.”

His attempt to to make you laugh works and your confidence is back, “I can definitely imagine you as a little Romeo.”

By the time you reach the Hard Deck you’ve both swapped enough embarrassing high school stories for a life time. Now Bob just hopes he can get through the night.

You and Bob are sat at a somewhat secluded table towards the corner of the room near the jukebox. You’re sipping on a vodka cranberry whilst Bob has a stella in a bottle with a label that he’s playing with. Bob decides it’s time to rid himself of the large sweater he was wearing to combat the night time chill that came with early winter in San Diego. You’re trying not to visibly swoon as you watch his biceps strain under the tight black top he’s wearing. His hair flops slightly without its gel to hold it in place so now looks slightly mussed. You reach over the table to fix it, Bob gets an eyeful down your top, he can’t complain.

Once you pull back you’ve got a cheeky smile on your face, Bob quirks an eyebrow,

“Who knew Bobby was hiding these guns under those chunky sweaters?” You giggle somewhat coyly.

You love watching the pink flush rise from his neck to his ear tips so you tease him further.

“Any other surprises you want to warn me about?”

“No, ma’am.” Bob doesn’t catch your drift fully, but his southern twang makes all up for it.

You feel your thighs clench slightly at the name he drops. You decide to move the conversation forward, thinking it’s best for your underwear.

“So what brings us here?” You gesture to the large amounts of navy memorabilia that surround the walls and ceilings of the Hard Deck.

“Me and my friends come here a lot, very navy friendly.” Bob smiles.

“Are they here? Your friends?” You question.

“Yeah, around here somewhere. They always are.”

“Can I meet them?”

That’s not what Bob had expected you to ask, but there was no way in hell he was gonna miss out on rubbing this in Bagman’s face.

“Definitely.”

You recognise three of Bob’s friends immediately. They’re all stood or sat around the pool table, taking turns and sipping beers. You learn their names properly this time. Phoenix is the beautiful woman who is Bob’s pilot (and also his only competition), Rooster is his moustachioed friend and Hangman is the tall blonde who had tried it on you.

“It’s nice to see you guys again!” You say hugging Phoenix and Rooster with an arm.

Another man with a moustache stood next to them pipes up, “Sorry, have we met before? I’m Payback, but you can call me Reuben.”

His smile is sweet, and you reach out to shake his extended hand. Another slightly shorter man stood next to him speaks,

“I would remember that face if we had met,” He’s charming as well, but no Bob. “I’m Fanboy.”

Phoenix comes to your rescue and explains the situation before retreating back to Rooster. Another tall man stood next to Jake laughs, “Oh my God, you’re the hot barista that Bob motorboated!”

Bob tenses slightly from his position beside you, you’re not sure if it’s because of the remembrance of the embarrassing action or if it’s the fact that you now know that him and all his friends had been referring to you as “the hot barista”.

You giggle at the man who had exclaimed (you think his name is Coyote),

“That’s me.”

Bob can only breathe a sigh of relief at your constant collectedness of anything cringeworthy that came your way.

Phoenix and Rooster had been watching all the interactions from a bit further back.

“She’s perfect for him, don’t you think?” Bradley nudges Phoenix. “They really balance each other out.”

Phoenix finally sighs out, “If they don’t work out do you think I’d still have a shot?”

Bradley snorts until he realises his friend is being serious, “Hey, let’s not go praying on anybody’s downfall.”

Phoenix rolls her eyes and walks off to get another beer. She cant help but smile as she catches you giggling at something Bob has said to Jake, you’re squeezing Bob’s bicep as you calm down and his arm is wrapped lowly around your waist. You really were perfect for each other.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next time you see Bob is a week later when he’s picking you up from your apartment for your first “proper date.”

Bob had insisted on taking you out to dinner (as the gentleman he is). You had texted him about what to wear and he had simply told you that you’d look good in anything (and nothing, but he was too afraid to say that part). It was sweet, but ultimately unhelpful, so you were frantically sending Marley photos of dresses you were thinking of wearing.

The first one was a tight minidress, it was red and didn’t leave much to the imagination.

marls <3

hot, maybe too slutty for a first date?

you

ur right, hang on

The second was a floral sundress, it had a wrap part around the cleavage.

marls <3

adorable, too casual for dinner tho

you

ugh

i have nothing to wear

marls <3

i’m sure he’d love that

you

shush

WAIT

i’ve got it

The last dress you try on is a black maxi dress, it’s tight but tasteful. With a low enough neckline to be teasing but not indecent.

You send the photo to Marley and await her response.

marls <3

💦💦😩😩🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🤤🤤🤤

you

ur an idiot

this the one?

marls <3

u love me

and def

You spritz your makeup with setting spray and spray extra perfume on your pulse points. You then hook your hoops into your ears and check the time on your phone. 19:20. You had ten minutes before Bob said he would arrive, you check back through your texts to make sure you got the timing right. Not that you could forget, you’d been looking forward to seeing him again all week.

Before you knew it you had been daydreaming about Bob’s strong arms for the past five minutes, when your phone chimes.

bobby ❤️

i’m here

do u want me to come up?

you

dw!

i’ll be down in a sec

You pull on your wedges and make your way to your door, taking one final look at yourself in the mirror before grabbing you clutch.

You make light conversation in the elevator with the teen girl who lives with her mother in the apartment across from you.

“You look beautiful, are you meeting someone?”

You smile bashfully at her, “Yeah he’s really sweet!”

You had given her the odd piece of boy advice when her mother had asked you to check in on her when she was working nights.

“Don’t tell on me if you see me coming back with him tonight.”

She giggles as if you’ve let her in on a big secret, and exits the elevator with you as it hits the ground floor. She peeks round to see who you’re meeting and whispers in your ear before she turns to go the vending machines.

“He’s hot!”

You chuckle at her, “I know right!”

Bob looks handsome as ever, he’s pushed his hair back and is wearing a tight black button up shirt with black slacks and smart shoes. You realise you look quite the matching couple.

As you reach him, both his hands come to rest on your hips, yours on his chest.

“Hey, handsome.”

That makes a smirk come to rest on Bob’s lips, your thighs squeeze together involuntarily at the action.

“You look fucking incredible.” He charms.

He takes your hand in his and holds you out to do a little twirl for him. As you spin around he sucks a deep breath in.

“How did I get so lucky?”

You peck him on the cheek, “I could ask myself the same thing.”

You love him like this, breezy. Like there’s nothing in the world that could weigh him down.

He helps you into the passenger seat of his jeep, before going around to sit in the drivers side.

“I’ve booked us a table at Fucina, I forgot to ask if Italian was okay with you?” Bob asks, nerves taking over him partly.

You rest your hand on his thigh to comfort him, “It’s perfect.”

As it turns out, it was more than perfect. The food was incredible, as well as the wine.

“Bob, this is the best food I’ve ever eaten.”

He smiles at that and watches as you moan after swallowing another mouthful of pasta, trying to ignore how his slacks tighten.

“Do you want to try some of mine?” Bob offers, he’s slyly trying to feed you.

“Sure!”

Bob twirls the tagliatelle around his fork and leans over to pop it in your mouth. You wrap your mouth around the fork and pull off of it with a pop, leaving a small amount of the creamy sauce on the side of your lip. Bob watches in awe as you chew and swallow the pasta, your tongue peeks out to swipe at the sauce left on your lip.

“How have you made pasta sexy?”

You laugh at his expression, “I would argue pasta has always been sexy.”

You both finish your meals and polish off the bottle of white that the waiter had recommended, it had gotten pretty late but there was still flocks of well dressed couples eating at the restaurant. You were finally able to flag down a waiter,

“Can we get the cheque please, Daniel?” You smile, looking down at the waiters name tag politely.

The waiter flushes, “Of course, miss.” And scurries off.

Before you can speak, Bob butts in, “There is no way on earth you’re paying.”

You roll your eyes and reach for your clutch, “Shush, handsome.”

Bob is faster than you and your clutch is tucked under his armpit before your fingertips can grasp it. You pout and Bob has half a mind to listen to every command you ever make for the rest of his life, but his mother would be bitterly disappointed if he allowed (who he thought to be) the most beautiful girl in the world to pay for her food.

“Don’t give me that Southern gentleman crap.”

Bob’s cheeks flush as he realises you knew exactly what he was going to say.

“You’re not paying for anything.”

You give him your best doe eyes, squeeze your cleavage together and pout, “Halvesies?”

Bob looks away and says something he never thought he would to you.

“No, darlin’ please, let me do this.” He drawls.

You relent, the pet name sending heat to your cheeks.

“Fine, but i’m paying next time.”

Bob chuckles, but his heart leaps hearing you sound so certain about a ‘next time’. The waiter returns with the cheque and Bob doesn’t even allow you the courtesy of seeing the bill. He knows you’d be angry at how much it was, but he thought it was so worth it, just for you.

Leaving the restaurant, the air has much more of a chill to it than before you left. You try to stifle a shiver as the breeze hits you but Bob has already noticed and is shedding himself of his jacket. Draping it over your shoulders. It’s a tad big on you, but smells incredibly like him. You try to discreetly stick your nose into the neckline and inhale deeply. Bob giggles at your action,

“Smell good?”

“Heavenly.”

It’s a short walk to Bob’s car and he’s rushing around to open the door for you immediately. He gives you your clutch that he had been graciously holding for you before walking round back to the drivers side.

The radio hums peacefully between you two playing 80s r&b hits on the slow drive back to your apartment. The sky is a dusky blue, and the city lights blur with the stars the darker it gets. You hum along as the song switches to one you recognise, singing quietly as you watch Bob drive. He looks so incredibly handsome lit up by the streetlights.

The song reaches its crescendo and now your full on singing at Bob whilst he giggles at your theatrics, “It’s like candy!”

You’re shimmying in your seat and Bob watches with practically hearts for eyes. You laugh heartily and Bob thinks it’s probably the best thing he’ll ever hear.

“Eyes on the road, handsome.”

Who is he to deny you anything? Bob reluctantly pulls his eyes from you and realises he’s much closer to your apartment than he thought. He goes right at the next turning and spots your building at the end of the road. Just as he’s about to start sighing you open your mouth, “Will you come up to my apartment with me?”

Bob swears his heart is beating out of his chest, “Of course.”

Once he’s parked, Bob once again rushes round to open the door for you and help you out. You stumble slightly, landing on the side of your wedge and steady yourself on Bob’s strong arms. Before he can ask if you’re okay your lips are on his. Bob swears he’s in heaven right now. You lips are soft on his, plump and tasting of the remnants of the wine you finished off as well as the tang of the lipgloss you had reapplied in the car. You pull away from him and Bob could have cried from the loss of contact,

“Sorry, I didn’t even ask if I could kiss you.” You mumble slightly.

Bob sighs, “Please shush, and do it again.”

You giggle and immediately reunite your lips. This time there’s a little more passion with the confirmation that he wants it fully. His tongue slides into your mouth, meeting your own making you let out a whimper. You guide his hands from politely at your waist down to your ass, he groans into your mouth, dampening your underwear. You pull away and a string of saliva connects your lips. You want to be disgusted but your pretty sure your core just clenched with more want than you’ve ever felt.

“Come on.” You grab Bob’s hand with a coy smile and drag him into your building and towards the elevator.

The ride up to your floor feels painstakingly long to Bob, when it finally dings and the doors open he lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

He follows your footsteps as you walk tantalisingly slowly towards your apartment door. You shuffle through your clutch to retrieve your keys before pushing them in the lock and walking through the door. Bob is quick on your heels. You stop abruptly and bend over to undo your wedges. The meat of your ass bumps against Bob’s crotch and he holds in a deep groan.

“Minx.” You hear him mutter as you wander over to your kitchen to grab two glasses and a bottle of red.

You return back to where Bob is now sat on your couch. You place the two glasses on the coffee table along with the bottle.

“Pour us a glass and meet me in my room.”

Bob nods in understanding and blatantly watches your behind as you saunter over to your bedroom. After finishing off pouring the second glass he hears you call out his name. He picks up the glasses and follows your pathway towards your bedroom door which is cracked open slightly.

You’re stood fully naked in front of the full length mirror on your wardrobe door, trying to undo the clasp on the back of your necklace.

Bob’s grip tightens on the two glasses as he tries not to allow them to tumble to the floor. His hard cock is pressing shamelessly against the front of his slacks now.

“Could you help me with my necklace?” You turn your head slightly to ask Bob.

He’s at a loss for words but nods dumbly, placing the two glasses on your dresser closest to the door. He takes the few short steps to close the distance between you and stands behind you cautiously. You look up at him from the mirror,

“You can touch me.” You smile comfortingly at him.

Bob releases a shaky breath and reaches to help hold your hair up. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck and it sends a shiver down your spine. The gold pendant which dangles between your breasts shakes slightly and Bob lets his gaze wander down towards them. You finally unclasp your necklace and Bob lets your hair down so you can step away and place the necklace on your jewellery plate.

“Thank you, baby.”

Bob let’s out a low moan. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

He reaches for your hand and drags it towards his hard cock. You both moan upon making contact and you palm him slightly over his trousers just enough to work him up. You reach up to connect your lips again as Bob’s hands find your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples making you arch up into his touch. Your hand leaves his crotch in favour of undoing the buttons on his dress shirt hurriedly. His hands join yours so he can finally shed himself of his shirt, suddenly feeling like he was on fire.

Once his shirt has been discarded on the floor, your able to run your hands all over his muscular chest. You whine against his lips as your hands dip lower, tracing his happy trail.

“Why have you been hiding this from me?”

Bob smirks against your lips and deepens the kiss further, licking into your mouth. His hands dip from your waist to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

“Can I?” He whispers.

“Fuck, please.”

Bob lifts you in his strong arms and plops you down onto your bed, you spread your legs as he crawls up to meet you. He lowers his head to the bed and stares at your pussy, glistening with arousal for him. It’s already started to coat the tops of your thighs. You shy slightly under his gaze and try to close your legs, he raises a strong hand to your thigh, stopping you.

“Baby, please do something.” You whine, high pitched.

Bob was never one to decline you and reaches his other hand forward. His middle finger slides between your slit, gathering your wetness. He bumps against your clit a few times before pulling his finger away to lick at the wetness now on his finger. You buck your hips up to where he’s looking down at you. He reaches his hand down again and parts your lips. He spits down onto your pussy, it hits your clit and rolls down to mix with your juices.

“Fucking christ.” He whimpers, “I need to fuck you.”

You moan loudly at his proclamation and sit up to help him rid himself of his trousers. You slip off of your bed as he sits up on the edge. Staring down at you with lust blown pupils as you pull the zipper down and begin to pull his trousers down as well. He lifts his hips and you’re able to tear them down the rest of the way pretty quickly since he discarded his shoes near the door along with yours. You’re now face to face with his cock straining against the fabric of his black boxers. The sight makes you lick your lips, maybe another day. You pull his boxers down the rest of the way as well and watch as his cock slaps against his abdomen. The tip is pink and there’s a few beads of precum threatening to fall down the side of him, there’s one large vein that runs across the bottom of it.

“Shit, you’re big.” You chuckle slightly looking up at him. Bob is pretty sure he’s in love with you.

Bob pulls you up by your hands and you land on his lap. You push at his chest and he gets the hint to lay back. His head hits your pillows and you reach forward to peck his lips, before grabbing his cock in you right hand and stroking it a few times. He whimpers against your lips making your giggle. You move your pussy towards his cock, guiding the tip between your folds, gathering wetness. You both moan out as he hits your clit.

“Stop teasing darlin’.” Bob groans as his tip moves over your clit again.

You groan breathlessly but agree, “Only for you handsome.”

With that, you begin to slowly sink down onto his length. Your arousal makes it an easy glide down, but he’s still thick. He struggles not to buck up into you until your finally fully seated. The dusting of hair above his dick hits your clit making your whimper shyly. Bob is 100% sure he’s dead and in heaven right now, and he praises himself for whatever good deed he did which allowed him to feel your velvety walls squeezing him at this very second.

You set a pace on top of him, moving up and down on him and swirling your hips as you go. Bob’s hands are groping at your ass as he bucks up into you, meeting your thrusts. Your bedroom is filled with your joint breathy moans and the sounds of skin slapping as your ride Bob. One of his hands snakes round from your ass to toy with your clit. It makes you jolt and whine out loudly.

“Fuck. Babe I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.” You giggle down at Bob.

He smirks up at you, “That’s the whole point.” He punctuates his sentence with a thrust up into you. He’s been close since the moment you sank down onto him, but wants you to cum first. He rubs circles on your clit, he can feel you tightening around him the more he does. You quicken your pace, chasing your high.

“I’m close, please.” You moan out, rolling your hips down to meet another sharp thrust from Bob. He switches the way he’s circling your clit abruptly and looks up at you, begging,

“Cum for me please, gorgeous.”

You wail slightly on top of him as your peak hits, clenching down on him as you buck up erratically. Your pulsing pushes Bob over the edge and you can feel as he spurts his seed into you with a few jerks of his hips.

You slump down onto his chest as the white hot pleasure starts to fade away. You listen to his beating heart calm with a lazy smirk on your face. Bob is staring down at you with so much adoration in his eyes it’s hard to comprehend.

“You’re amazing, sweetheart.” He whispers.

You look up at him from where your chin is resting on his pec.

“That’s all you, handsome.”

Bob has never been so sure that you’re all he wants to see for the rest of his life.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: HWJDUEUWJW finally finished this and omfg,,, my fave thing i’ve written to date!!!

sorry that it’s kind of long but i promise it worth itttt

defo will be doing some more w these two bc they are adorbs

pls reblog, comment or send me an ask and tell me what you think !!!!

as always thank u for readingggg :)))

- honey <333

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