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#i mean i need to get out my old lady readers but
fangirl-dot-com · 20 hours
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🚕Accidentally Kidnapping a Mafia Boss
*part of the reverse tropes imagines*
Pairing: MafiaBoss!Max Verstappen x UberDriver!Reader Genre: Crack/Humor/Fluff? Summary: Uber seemed like a brilliant plan to get money to buy a new car. However, a mistake has you picking up the wrong passenger. Pretty blue eyes turn dangerous when you notice the gun in his belt.
*this was actually so much fun to write! this is in no way dark whatsoever. it's super funny and the reader is pretty ditzy but it's all in good fun! hope you like it!*
TAG LIST CLOSED
You hummed to whatever tune was playing on your half-broken radio. Most of the lyrics came out as muffled voices, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Because like the radio, your car was almost dead. 
Key word being almost. 
You had bought the car at the beginning of your high school career and refused to give it up. But, your father had finally convinced you to buy a new one. However, buying a new car was expensive, hence why you were driving around town at 7 p.m. on a Friday night trying to find someone who needed an Uber. 
Your family had mentioned how dangerous it was to drive for the “taxi” company, but no one else was hiring at this time. 
“It’s an easy way to make bank,” you had told your very confused parents. 
Your hand came up and smacked the top of the dash, causing the radio to spam for a moment before finally, clear voices played out. However, your eyebrows furrowed once you could actually listen to the song. 
“This is not my playlist,” you muttered while trying to get your Bluetooth to come back on. Once your fingers reached the dials, your phone lit up with an Uber notification. 
“Finally.”
You quickly put in the address and drove down the street. Your humming resumed, playlist reaching out through the speaker. You hadn’t even glanced at where the location was, or you would have realized that you were going in the wrong direction. 
When you were supposed to be going further into the town, you were headed for the city. The only place your parents refused to let you drive. 
It might have to do with the local mafia war that was going on. Something about track limits or whatnot. However, that was not going to stop you from getting paid that night. 
You finally came to a stop at the corner of what you thought to be Fifth and Main, like your phone said to stop at. The actual corner was Fourth and Main, but you couldn’t tell because half of the word “fourth” was smudged with some type of brown substance. 
Your shoulders raised in a shrug while your gaze landed back on your phone. At least you were supposed to be picking up a nice older looking lady. That’s what your Uber app said anyway. You leaned forward in the driver’s seat, making the entire car squeak. Before you knew it, your fingers had started to tap along to the song that was still playing. 
The sound of the door opening and slamming shut caught your attention. 
“Drive!” you heard from behind you. 
Your entire body turned in the seat as you looked to the back row of your car. 
That was not a nice looking old lady. 
The man that now resided on the back road had a mean glare as his eyebrows cocked. Sea blue eyes met your own as the man leaned forward and pointed out the window. 
“I said drive, let’s go!” the accented voice yelled.  
If you had taken a moment to actually look at the man, you would have noticed his roughed up suit, along with the bright red splatters along his white dress shirt. And on his belt line, a gun seemed to be tucked. 
But you hadn’t noticed. 
“Yes sir!” you cheerfully said, putting the car into drive. A loud boom sounded outside the car, but your radio had decided to turn up full blast, masking the sound. Your car squeaked as it started to move away from the corner and farther along the road. 
The man in the back seat seemed agitated, but slowly relaxed the farther away you got on the highway. He had leaned back against the window and rubbed his eyes. You wanted to keep glancing back at him, but you needed to drive. When you noticed that the Uber app had not updated with his next location, you gathered the courage to speak. However, he beat you to it. 
“Is this your first time?” 
You sheepishly grinned back at him. “Yes, sir. Sorry, is it that noticeable?” 
A grunt escaped his lips. 
“The damn Get Away Car sticker on the back is not very inconspicuous. You need to get rid of it.” 
“Oh! So you don’t like Taylor Swift that much?” 
The man glared at you through the rearview mirror, before he shut his eyes. His hand waved at you through the gap between the front seats. 
“Just don’t miss the exit.” 
“Sir, you’ll need to put in your location first.” 
His eyes shot open. “I guess this is your first day. How did you ever get through training?” 
You glanced back. “Training? It was all online?” 
A huff only answered as he reached for what you hoped was a phone in his pocket. 
“I’ll have to let Lando know that online training will not work.” 
You let out a nervous giggle, noting that there was no “Lando” in the Uber training video. But, once again, the money promised kept you going down the highway. You kept glancing at your phone, hoping that the guy would just put his address in. Now you were getting annoyed.
“Sir, I really need the address or I’ll have to make you get out.” 
A click near your ear made you freeze. 
“Who do you think you are? Giving orders to de Leeuw.” 
You had definitely picked up the wrong person. You wanted to start explaining yourself, but the gun near your head made the words die out in your throat. You could feel his breath on your ear as he spoke. This would be hot, if you weren’t scared to lose your life. 
“Now, you’re going to tell me who you are and why you don’t know where the right exit is. Are you working for Hamilton? Vettel? Alonso?” 
You were so caught up in not wanting to die that you missed the car in front of you slamming on your breaks. You were thankful for your fast reflexes as your foot pressed down on the left pedal, making your car lurch to a halt. A thump on the back of your seat had you reeling around to see what had happened to the blond man. 
You were surprised to see him now sprawled on the back seats, eyes closed and gun now on the floor. Your hands were shaking as you were now able to take a random exit. When you got to a random parking lot, your head hit the steering wheel. 
“I have de Leeuw in my back seat.” 
Your breathing started to grow ragged. 
“I have  de Leeuw in my back seat!” 
You were now panicking. 
“I HAVE AN FUCKING UNCONSCIOUS MAFIA BOSS IN MY BACK SEAT!” 
Charles’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Max’s tracker come to a stop in a parking lot. The Dutchman was supposed to come back right away after a swift deal with Gasly on the other side of town. But, Charles’s heart had dropped when the car, that Max was supposedly in, turned at an exit too soon. He took off his headset and rolled his chair over a bit. 
“Lando, who was picking Max up today after the deal? Was it Carlos?” 
The curly-haired Briton spun in his seat to look at his fellow mafia worker. 
“Uh, Carlos called in sick. I thought it was Oscar’s turn?” 
Something felt weird in Charles’s stomach. 
“No, Oscar is on that mission? Daniel was then after Oscar.” 
Lando’s eyes widened with fear. “Daniel is out of the country.” 
The Monegasque turned back to his computer screen. All vitals for Max were still good, but he had yet to leave the location. His finger pointed and pressed against the screen. 
“Then . . . who has Max?” 
Back in the parking lot, you had gotten out of the car and were currently rocking back and forth in the fetal position. 
“This is not happening. Why did this happen to me? I only needed some money. Why did I get stuck with a mafia boss. I want to live. I need to get back home to my plant and cat.” 
Last time you checked, de Leeuw was still out cold. You had taken the gun just in case he woke up in a panic and started to shoot at stuff. That would not end well for you. You grabbed your phone and pushed a button. 
“Yes? Hi? Hello, I am calling about what to do if I picked up the wrong passenger. Uh-huh. Yes. I didn’t have his address. Well, no. He’s unconscious. I can’t call the police, he probably owns them. What? Ok. No? The hospital is under the law as well? Yep. I can’t just take him back! No, wait. Don’t hang up. Uhg.” 
So much for customer service. 
You stuffed your phone back into your pocket. Your feet took you over to your car, and you opened the back seat. The blond man was still looked like he was asleep. Your face got closer to his. 
Hm. Up close he was quite handsome. The freckle on his lip really added bonus points. You were so engrossed with the small dot that you missed the twitch of his eyes under his eyelids. When you looked back up, your eyes met blue, which made you shriek and fall back on your butt. 
Max was a bit out of it when he was trying to wake up. What he wasn’t expecting was a face to be so close to his when his eyes finally opened. He would laugh if he had the strength as he watched you fall onto the concrete. His hand immediately went to his belt, but his heart dropped when he didn’t feel his gun. 
“Looking for this?” you asked, gun outstretched at the man in your back seat. Max’s eyes widened at the gun pointed to his head. It took all of his strength to put his hands up. 
“You don’t want to do this,” is the first calm thing that the man said to you. You, however, kept the gun pointed directly at him. 
“You’re right, I don’t. But I can’t have you freak out on me and shoot my face. Who would take care of my cat back home? My cousin Lan could, but he kills everything.” 
Max registered the slight hitch in your voice. While his hands were still up, he took a moment to look around the parking lot. In the depths of his mind, he was hoping that Lando or at least Charles were on their way to come get him. Yet, his heart rate rose as he saw a few familiar things surrounding him. 
He turned back to you. “Ok, you need to listen to me. We are in Rosberg territory right now. And he’s not going to like us on his property. So, you need to give me the gun and get back into the car.” 
Your eyes flickered around, and caught some movement to the left and then to the right. You slowly inched the gun down as you walked closer. When you were right in front of the Dutchman, you quickly handed him the gun as you rounded the car to the drivers seat. 
Max quickly reloaded the unloaded gun with a smirk on his face. You couldn’t have shot him if you tried. It took a bit for him to do it, but when the magazine fit back in the gun, he was wondering why you hadn’t taken off yet. 
“We have to go, now,” he said sternly. 
You turned around. “But I need to find a good get-away-song.” 
Max could count the pout on your lips as adorable, if it weren’t for the fact that Rosberg’s men were quickly making their way to the car. 
“You’re going to have to pick a good funeral song if you don’t hit the gas pedal.” 
“Aha!” 
The music blared out of the broken speaker as you finally put the car into drive. You heard metal hit metal and prayed that you still could trade your car out for another (even with a few bullet holes). 
Max had pressed himself up against the back seat, gun cocked and ready. 
“You better not shoot out my back window. I have to trade this car for a new one.” 
Max muttered, “You won’t trade anything if you’re dead.” 
“I heard that!” 
The mafia boss ignored you as he kept watch. When a few cars started to gain, that’s when he leaned back and aimed the gun, firing shots through your back windshield, shattering the glass. 
“Do you listen to anyone? Or is my voice just static in your brain?” you asked as you swerved onto the highway. When Max didn’t answer, you huffed. You steadily drove your car down the big roads as Max tried his best to keep the cars at bay. 
“How far am I driving?” 
Max grunted as he ducked from a bullet. “Just until exit 7. That’s my track.” 
You wanted to hit your head on the steering wheel once again. “You’re telling me that if I just kept driving, I wouldn’t be in this situation?” 
When he didn’t answer, you swerved a bit to knock him off balance. Your chuckles hit Max’s ear, pissing him off even more. 
“And to think, I was going to replace this utter junk if you made it out alive.” 
“We’re not done yet mister.” 
There was still a bit of road to go, and you were hoping that Max would try to shoot out one of their tyres, instead of trying to shoot at their drivers. He was about reload when he heard a clicking sound. Max really wanted to through himself out the door. 
“Is your blinker seriously on right now?” 
Your fully turned around to glare. 
“Yes.” 
You jerked the wheel as you got onto exit 7, making the cars behind slowly back away and continue on the highway. You wiggled in your seat as you did a little celebration. When some familiar houses came into sight, you gasped. 
“My cousin lives around here!” 
Max was out of breath as he was flabbergasted by your upbeat spirit. “Cousin?” 
“Yeah! He has this like high tech job and stuff. I come over to swim in the summer.” 
He had no words as you pulled up to a familiar house. You scrambled out the door and fell face flat on the asphalt. 
“Sweet mother, thank you, thank you.” 
You could kiss the ground, but that would be super unsanitary. When the garage creaked, you quickly got up and scrambled behind Max, who raised his gun out of instinct. However, he wanted to laugh when he saw his two best friends in full oversized gear. 
The two friends froze at the sight of their boss and, well, Lando’s cousin. 
“Y/n?” the Briton questioned, pulling the visor on the oversized helmet up. 
Your sprung in your place. 
“Lando!” 
“Max?” 
“Charles?”
Lando squinted at you. 
“Y/n?” 
A nervous giggle escaped your lips. 
“Lando?” 
The curly-haired man rushed at you, making you dodge around Max. Which, that resulted in Lando chasing you around the yard. 
“You kidnapped my friend?” 
“Why are you friends with de Leeuw and apparently Il Predestinato? I’m telling Aunt Cisca!”
“Not if I tell your mum that you Ubered in the city!” 
Max and Charles watched as the two of you ran after each other, hurling insults and threats. The two jumped when they heard a loud creak behind them and then a crash. When they looked, your car was down to the ground, wheels askew. 
“My car! De Leeuw, you’re paying for that!”  
uber_y/n has posted
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uber_y/n new baby from my new baby 🖤
liked by bestie, land0, max_v, and 204 others
bestie um excuse me ma'am 🤨 what happened to bessie? 😭
uber_y/n someone (not saying any names [max] ) SHATTERED HER BACK WINDOW
max_v I hope you like bessie 2.0 schatje
uber_y/n I dooooooo(not)
max_v woman 🙄
land0 you just had to go for my cousin 😐😑😐
uber_y/n he was very charismatic, unlike you noRIZZ 🫵💀
sharl_lec pls, for the love of everything good in this world, quit uber
uber_y/n NOPE on my way to pick up someone named...lewis?
max_v oh no
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
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zmediaoutlet · 6 months
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twenty questions for fic writers
tagged to do the do by @prince-of-elsinore, ty ty for thinking of me
How many works do you have on ao3?
211 (and elsewhere, maybe a dozen we don't talk about, bc they suck, on livejournal; maybe a couple dozen short pieces here on tumblr that have never migrated to ao3)
What's your total ao3 word count?
1,515,103
What fandoms do you write for?
Almost all Supernatural, but also some video game fandoms (FF, DA, maybe BG3 soon), MCU, etc. usual suspects.
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
1. oh so good, oh so fine -- 993 kudos 2. there will be better days -- 846 kudos 3. see things so much clearer -- 621 kudos 4. into the flood again -- 602 kudos 5. side two, track one -- 558 kudos maybe someday we'll break 1000, lol
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Absolutely I do, and would find it rude not to. I know other people have all kinds of reasons they don't respond but I don't have any of those reasons, especially since I'm pathetically grateful every time someone bothers to say they liked something, lol. If anyone's even a tiny bit encouraged to become a repeat reader by the writer responding, I want to encourage that as much as possible. Plus, every once in a while, you can get a dece conversation going in the comments! Find a like-minded fan! That's worth any effort to compose a few sentences of thanks. The only comments I don't respond to are emoji strings or cut-and-paste 'another kudos here' comments, because they're not actually comments. (I appreciate the thought, but... I don't want them.)
What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I have had some beta friends who would argue about this one, lol. I guess the saddest is probably the hollow summer, since the whole plot is kind of hurt/no comfort. I don't believe in a successful boy king, let's say that.
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
again, probably depends on how you define 'happy'. glory days is probably the most cheerful; for me, the happy comes better with more experience behind it, so the thirty-third yard would maybe be my personal choice.
Do you get hate on fics?
nope; worst I ever got was some twerp who actually responded to someone else's comment, bitching that I didn't put the right peepee in the right poopyhole. But only one of those, ever, and safely ignored. idk, I don't attract that much.
Do you write smut?
...yes.
Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
only one, and it only sort of counts -- i heard love was blind, which is Cordell Walker/Dean Winchester, but of course the point is that Dean's getting the body of his brother by other means. I like crossovers but I usually want there to be a point beyond 'let's mash these two faves together and see what happens'; I'm more inclined toward doing a whole-universe fusion, e.g. fully placing characters with what you can salvage of their key backstory elements into a universe not their own... which I guess would also count as a crossover, wouldn't it. so I also did that with putting the Winchesters into the Dragon Age 2 plot, in whatever we were before. definitely 'crazier' than the first one here, lol.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I think that's the kind of thing that happens on WattPad. Who cares.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
yes, a few.
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I tried; it didn't work. Both people need to be contributing to the writing for it to really count as 'co-written'; nevertheless it's stuck with both author names on ao3 because I don't think there's a way to change that.
What's your all-time favorite ship?
I think from context this should be clear. Although will also forever hold many small candles for the little guys.
What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
the aforementioned "co-written" fic, which was meant to be a huge series. The first fic is finished because I brute-forced my way through it, but there was a full five-season arc we were going to try to get through. Alas. The first one is decent, though, and works as a complete fic on its own: In a Cursed Hour.
What are your writing strengths?
voice, pacing, naturalism; characterization, though that can be argued in a fan-space
What are your writing weaknesses?
plot -- I find it intensely boring. Avoidance of plot then tends to flatten stories into similar non-arcs; I don't mind that, but it's a skill to exercise.
Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
I'll only do Spanish, and that's only because I studied it for eight years. Even then it's usually the wrong choice, unless it's a fully blended multilingual story (which most are not, and in the wrong hands it comes off as absurd); better to convey through the POV character either understanding it or not, and dealing with it in narrative instead of straight dialogue. Although a word or two here or there is nbd, clearly.
First fandom you wrote for?
Final Fantasy VIII
Favorite fic you've written?
well, questions, you got me, because I don't believe in favorites. at this moment in terms of writing skill I think the best might be asceticism, but in terms of one that sits in my head and fully just is canon, lol, it might be there will be better days, mentioned above. the only heaven fic I need. I guess that says something.
kind of interesting to look at the stats, if also stressful. let's get some other writers to be interested/stressed -- uhh @redmyeyes, @phynali, @hellhoundsprey, @stillwaterseas, @whiskeycherrypie
some shots in the dark :)
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sevendutchies · 3 months
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People in this fandom will really look at The Fool, Patience, Lacey, Carson, Sedric, Hest, Davvie, Lecter, Kennit, Ash/Spark, and yes, even Fitz himself, and still have the gall to call it queer bait.
These characters are explicitly queer, their actions impact the narrative, they are well written, and their identities are treated with respect. That is the best possible queer representation you could ask for in any story.
I've seen people on tumblr basing the likelihood of if they read this series on whether or not it's "actually gay" and I'm here to tell you that it is. There are queer characters. There are queer protagonists. And no matter what you see people in the fandom say, Robin Hobb wrote some amazing queer representation in a genre that rarely sees it at all.
EDIT: and I think it's pertinent to note that, no, characters who are questioning or struggling with their feelings about sexuality instead of knowing 100% does not make something queer bait or "less gay"
TLDR;
Queer bait = disrespectful marketing ploy that exploits queer audiences
Queer bait ≠ "my two favorite characters never have sex"
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luminnara · 1 month
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Gladiator | Feyd Rautha x Reader
REQUEST: Feyd-Rautha fights in the arena, hoping to win your favor and maybe even your hand.
Warnings: violence
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
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Feyd-Rautha didn’t know why your face was the only one he seemed able to pick out of the crowd. Out of all the eligible daughters the Houses had thrown at him, you were the one he couldn’t get out of his head. Deep down, he knew he should consider himself lucky for the privilege to have a say in his marriage, but most of the heiresses he had encountered did little to interest him and he had grown more than bored of the whole ordeal.
Until he was presented with you.
He had known little of your family, and he hadn’t cared to learn more. You had been from far away, and your culture was probably far different from his own. Perhaps it was arrogance that had fueled his initial disinterest, his ego rearing its ugly head. He had seen you and assumed you were boring and prudish, based on your style of clothing, and had initially been beyond irritated when you were offered up before him. He had cursed his uncle the Baron, and nearly killed the nearest servant. He had wanted nothing more than to be as far away from you as possible, exhausted and annoyed after a week of meeting princess after princess, all of whom he had rejected.
Why, then, had he become intrigued by you? Had it been the way you looked at him with such boredom, as if he had nothing to offer you? Had it been the information that he was simply one in a long list of suitors you were slogging through, much in the way he had been for what felt like an age? Or had it been the sudden revelation that you had more in common with him than he had thought possible, and the sudden knowledge that if he wished to catch your eye, tradition dictated he must show you a spectacular fight and defeat every other man whose goal was your hand in marriage?
“It is the way of her people,” Rabban had shrugged, oblivious to the way Feyd’s world was slowly being turned on its head. “I have heard that they were fighting long before House Harkonnen built our first arena.”
Now, Feyd-Rautha was stalking back and forth through the sand, thinking of all the ways he could slaughter his competition. He was one of ten, ten suitors, none of whom were drugged or weak from starvation the way his quarry on Giedi Prime always was. As he glared at the opponents around him, he knew that you were watching from the stands, in a luxurious box with your parents and ladies in waiting, and when a glance in your direction confirmed his suspicions, he was overcome with the desire to kill for you.
He had never felt that before. He was plenty familiar with the urge to maim, to slice and tear, to take lives—but he had never wanted to do it for another person. His darlings, in a sense, garnered that from him when he killed servants to feed them…but this was different. That was a life taken as a gift and a means to spoil them. This was a fight to the death, a way to prove himself to you…and for some strange reason, he wanted—no, needed—to succeed.
“Today we gather in the ancestral arena of our great House to honor a tradition which we have kept alive for one thousand generations!” A voice boomed. “Today, the Great Houses send their sons to fight for the hand of my daughter, and should they be so lucky, one will win her favor!”
Feyd-Rautha glanced at his nearest competitor, a round-faced man who was far too old to be marrying you. He knew the man thought he was safe; they had all received a speech on the importance of not actually killing each other, but Feyd had had no interest in listening nor adhering to the rules. If he was to truly win your hand, he knew he must make a grisly spectacle of himself. He had gone so far as to fight shirtless, so as to show you his smooth, unscarred skin, and display his enemies’ blood upon his flesh.
“Now, warriors…do battle!”
You watched from above as the fight commenced.
“I like the looks of that Halleck boy,” your mother commented as she peered through her positively ancient opera glasses.
Your eyes found the one she spoke of and you sighed. “He favors his right leg. He will not last.”
Your father plopped down in the throne next to you, a hearty laugh booking from his chest. “That’s my girl. Ever the strategist, with the sharpest eye in the known universe. Tell us, then, who do you predict will win? We can make a bet on it.”
“I hardly think gambling is appropriate on today of all days.” Your mother shot him a glare.
He only laughed louder.
“I like the Harkonnen.” You said, watching as Feyd-Rautha drove a blade into another man’s shoulder.
Your mother made a tutting noise. “He is…”
“Bloodthirsty,” your father offered.
“Yes,” you said, somewhat transfixed. “He is.”
Your eyes followed Feyd-Rautha’s every move, glued to his form as he lithely parried and dodged his opponents’ attacks. He was a surprisingly welcome sight after the many suitors you’d turned your nose up at, and while he had initially bored you just as the rest had, there was something in his demeanor that had piqued your interest.
Upon meeting, you had both been irritated and more than ready to stay unmarried forever. You had heard that Feyd-Rautha had also been meeting potential suitors, and if the rumor mill was correct, he had nearly killed more than one of them. When you had first laid eyes upon the pale, hairless Harkonnen heir, you had immediately decided that you might give this one a chance; many of the others you had met had seemed ill suited, abhorred by the concept of fighting for your hand in an archaic ritual. Feyd-Rautha, however, had changed when he had heard, shifting from disinterested to focused, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement at the prospect of a duel.
Now, he was stalking through the sand below you, wielding wickedly sharp hunting knives as he attacked a competitor from behind. He wasn’t above fighting dirty, you noted, his blackened teeth bared as he head butted another man. Only six remained including him, the other four having given up or lying unconscious at the feet of their opponents.
“He’s going to kill someone!” Your father exclaimed, his voice gleeful.
“And what a diplomatic nightmare that will be,” your mother mumbled.
You weren’t sure if Feyd-Rautha had truly taken any lives so far that afternoon, but as he drove a knife into the gut of another fighter, you surmised that your mother may be spending the rest of her day smoothing things over with and paying off the families of some of these men.
You watched, smiling to yourself as they all fell, one by one, into groaning, bloodied heaps in the sand, until only one remained on his feet. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was the victor, as you had hoped he’d be, and as the crowd erupted into a roar of cheers, you stood.
Your parents watched you carefully.
“Are you certain?” Your mother asked.
“Do you have any objections?” You countered.
“…none whatsoever.”
You turned to your father. “And you, Father?”
He shrugged, leaning his chin on his hand. “I quite like the boy. He will make for an interesting match.”
“Then it is settled,” you sucked in a breath, steeling yourself before turning and walking to the stairs.
In the arena, Feyd-Rautha was drinking in the sounds of an entertained crowd. He could put on a show anywhere, it seemed, and if he had been at all concerned by leaving Giedi Prime to fight on your planet, they were long forgotten. His blood was still boiling, chest heaving as attendants began collecting his fallen foes, of whom more than a few sported serious, possibly life threatening injuries. And after he had struck each one down, he had glanced up to find you there, watching him.
The crowd hushed suddenly, and Feyd-Rautha saw that it was because you were approaching him, stepping over your battered suitors without so much as a glance down at them. Your eyes remained focused on him, never leaving, boring into his form as he straightened up and faced you.
“Feyd-Rautha,” you greeted him.
“Princess.”
“You fought well.”
“Thank you.”
You smirked at him. “You hope to gain my favor, do you not?”
“I had hoped for your token, yes,” he admitted, watching you with those dark, intelligent eyes.
“A token, or my hand?” You asked.
“I will take whatever you see fit to bless me with, princess.”
With a sly smile, you closed the gap between you, pressing a hand to his chest. He felt warmth there, and when you pulled away, the roar of the crowd returned and he looked down to see a crimson handprint on his skin.
“Congratulations, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you said, your voice cutting below the cheering of your people in the stands above. “We are now engaged.”
With that simple statement, you turned on your heel and left.
It was foolish to turn one’s back to a Harkonnen, especially Feyd-Rautha, but you both knew he would never do anything to you. Not now. Not when his eyes refused to leave your retreating form. Not when his heart thudded in his chest excitedly. Not when he knew he suddenly had a wife, one for whom he would kill anything and anyone.
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sugume · 3 months
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COMING HOME TO YOU w/Jujutsu Kaisen
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More: Fem!Reader. Soft JJK boys have my heart. Toji is stern and suggestive ‘cus he can’t help himself. unedited.
Featuring: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru & Toji Fushiguro
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☾ NANAMI KENTO
Nanami lets out a long sigh as soon as he steps into your shared apartment. Today felt never-ending and he was glad to finally be back home. He just wanted to eat whatever leftovers you left for him and then dive head-first into your arms and never leave. After he hangs his suit jacket up, he walks into the kitchen and as predicted, when he opens the fridge he sees a plastic Tupperware with a small note that says ‘Hurry up and eat, I need my cuddles’ he smiles for what feels like the first time since he left you this morning–it probably was. As the note says, he quickly eats as much as he can stomach before cleaning up after himself and heading towards the bedroom. He thought of taking a quick shower before hopping in bed but the thought immediately leaves his mind when he see’s how comfortable and soft you look. Head on his side of the bed and comforter wrapped around your waist, you looked like an angel, specially made for him. Stripping down to his boxers he slowly crawls into bed, careful not to wake you. Once he’s settled it doesn't take long for you to subconsciously move yourself halfway on his chest. “Goodnight beautiful, I love you.” He whispers into the dark before planting a kiss on your forehead. 
☾ GOJO SATORU
You look up from your phone, trying to catch a glimpse of white hair for what feels like the hundredth time. Where is he? He was supposed to be home by now and your start to worry that something went wrong. He hasn;t answered any of your texts either. You start to type out another text before you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your torso and a hard stomach press into your back. “Hi, Love.” He whispers in your ear. “Toru!” You jump in surprise, before turning around and throwing your arms around him. Satoru wraps his arms around your middle once again, squeezing you so hard you start to weeze. “Sorry I didn’t answer your texts, phone died and theri was an accident in the freeway” He whispers into you next before catching your lips. “Don’t worry ‘bout that Toru, ‘m just glad you made it home safely. Love you.” You mumble against his lips. He smiles. “I love you to pretty girl. You miss me today?” You peck him again before nodding. “So much.” “I missed you too.” He grins, walking the two of you backwards. “I know you did, you text me every hour ‘bout how much you miss me.” “Can’t blame be pretty girl, I want to be in your skin,” he leans down to kiss your nose, “Now what should we make for dinner, hm?”
☾ GETO SUGURU
Suguru felt as if world was punishing him, it had to be. After a week-long mission away from his favorite person, all he wanted was to come home and get some much-needed couple time. But the world must hate him because you weren’t there when he got home, matter of fact he doesn’t know where the hell you are. You haven’t answered your phone the entire time 20 minutes he’s been home. Just as he was about to call you for the ninth time, he heard the door unlock and a few seconds later he saw your figure emerge from the small corridor. “Sugu?” You jump back in surprise. “Where were you?” He shouts before flinching at the sound of his voice. He didnt mean to shout, he was just worried.  “Down in the lobby, helpin’ some old lady bring a few packages upstairs” You frown. Suguru cusses inwardly before walking up to you and pulling you into his warm chest. “Didn’t mean to yell sweet girl, jus’ was worried ‘bout you, you werent answering my calls n’ I thought something bad happened. I’m sorry.” He rubs small circles into the small of your back. “S’okay and i didnt answer my phone because I left it in the apartment.” You explain, relaxing into your boyfriends chest. “I didn’t know you were coming home today?” You change the subject. Looking up at Suguru. He had dark eyebags underneath half clothed eyes. He looked like hell. “Me either, thought I’d was staying for atleast another week, but we got down earlier than expected.” He mumbles as he cups the side of your head. You stare up at him and smile. He leans down to catch your soft lips. “Missed you,” he whispers before capturing your tongue. “Missed you s’much, baby.”
☾ TOJI FUSHIGURO 
“Babe?” Toji shouts as he looks for you around the house. “m’ in here!” You yell back from the living room and Toji sighs in relief as his feet carry him to you. He’s been waiting all day to see you and almost drops to his knees when he sees you smiling up at him from the couch. “Hi baby, how was work?” You open the blanket you are under, inviting him in. He drops his entire body onto you. “Was okay, uneventful as always.” He playfully bites your next before leaving his head to kiss your pouty lips. “You miss me sweet thing?” “Missed you s’much I thought I was gonna come up there and beat your boss if he made you stay overtime again.” He laughs. “I was gonna kill him if he kept me there for another hour too.” He caresses your face before gripping your jaw. You blink up at him. “What did you spend your day doing lazy girl?” “Napped and scrolled on social media all day, as always.” “As always.” He micks before capturing your lips again. You moan when he starts grinding into you. “Missed that too.”
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pedge-page · 4 months
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#5 Joel dealing with his fiesty preggo wife - angry af
Can be read with others in the series or standalone
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Notes: Pedro chewing gum between takes on set does things to me.
Warnings: unprotected rough sex, Daddy kink, degrading language, reader being mean at first but Joel gives it right back *winkwink*
18+ ONLY
- - - -
The two of you are sitting in the living room on your respective sofas. You keep giving Joel the devil eye from your book in your lap as he watched the football game on TV.
Eventually, you roll your eyes, slam your pages shut and stand up, barreling past him and intentionally knocking your shin angrily against his knee.
"The fuck?" He coughs.
"You're fucking annoying, Miller."
"Funny, thought that was your name too now?" He quips, eyes staring back ahead to the TV while he points to the gold band on his left finger. "What have I done now?"
"Your chewing."
Joel side eyes you, expression unchanged as he blows the most obnoxious bubble from his gum imaginable before letting it pop! and sucking back in his mouth to chew. "What about?"
“It's annoying. And you're disgusting."
"Am I now? What else?"
"You've got a big ugly ass nose, too."
As much as Joel suspected this angry outburst out of nowhere was just the pregnancy setting every little nerve on edge with you, he want exactly privy to being attacked with your foul words.
"S'that right? you didn't seem to have a problem with my big ugly ass nose last night when you came four times from this snout nudging your little clit when I ate ya out."
"I was fakin' it," you scoff unconvincingly, the both of you knowing it’s a lie. But you refuse to back down. "While we're at it, here's another thing: You eat pussy like a bitch."
Joel Miller did not like it when a woman had to fake shit around him. Let alone his woman obviously lying about faking it. He stands up, the broad physique of his body instantly shadowing yours. "Ya know, I don't really like your tone today, young lady." He approaches you calmly but with a threatening predatory aura.
You tilt your head mockingly. “Yeah? My young lady self is stuck here with your old, miserable, lazy ass." You don't shuffle away, feet staying planted where they are until he's directly on top of you. Your eyes narrow, challenging one another. "It's a honestly a miracle that you even knocked me up with your wrinkly, shriveled, limp dic—“
 - 
Being married is a funny thing. Sometimes you don’t even have to say what it is you don’t realize you need, but your spouse is very adapt at picking up on it. Like right now, with face being shoved into the headrest of the couch by your husband’s meaty hand on top of your head, pregnant belly hanging over the curve of the cushion while you’re knees rub against the plush seat, Joel’s incessantly powerful hips driving forcefully into your stuffed cunt over and over again like a screen door in a hurricane. 
You’re smiling like a happy drunk, moaning off the top of your lungs as Joel’s cock continues to fill you effortlessly. He’s grunting and swearing, drips of his sweat trickling on to your arched back. Normally this position would hurt, especially with the extra 30 pounds of weight in your middle completely weighing you down, pressing uncomfortably into the couch, but my, oh my does it feel like a incredulous weight off your once aggravated mind.
“Ugh--ahh! FUck!” You cry, teeth sinking into the plush leather.
“What? Ya tired already?" he taunts, panting gleefully at your submissive state. "You wanted this. Remember? Just needed a good fucking, is that it?” He seethes, rutting his hips like daggers. 
You nod dumbly, elbows fighting to keep you and the baby from being plowed into the cushion. You throw as much of your weight back on to him with each thrust, forcing him deeper.
“Yeah, oh fuck me baby— yeah that’s it.” He licks his lips, watching the spot where your swollen and glistening pussy continues to suck his length back in. “My poor little wife, needed her cunt fucked stupid to get that little brain to shut off. Little cumdump gettin all antsy, startin’ a fight when she just needed a fresh fillin'. Don’t you worry, angel. Daddy’s here to put ya back in your place.”
With one hand still forcing your face into the headrest, the other is gripping your meaty hip, bringing you flush against his thighs with each puncture. You can feel him reaching the deepest part of you, the part that you didn’t know needed itched until Joel knew to stick his cock in it.
“Ye-yes daddy!” you whine when he hits that squishy spot inside that has you seeing stars, finger nails biting into the leather as you milk his cock with your orgasm.
“Ah-fuck yeah baby, keep goin’, keep cummin’ on Daddy’s dick—that’s my whore—my good wife—FUCK yeah!—fuuucckkk, ya needed that cum, I can feel it. Squeezin’ me so god damn tight. That’s it, just let go, give me everything, Daddy’s got ya.”
And what made Joel Miller so different, so husband and now soon-to-be-father worthy, is that, even though he’s railing his heavily pregnant wife in a position that would cause most women pain, you were as comfortable as can be. Despite the aggression that poured from his lips and hips, his hands occasionally cradled your tummy, checking on the baby’s movements. Glides down your back, massaging your spine to ensure you’re relaxed and not cramping. Listens for your breathing, the sounds that escape your throat, waiting for any sign that you might be in pain. He’s constantly making small adjustments for your comfort without you even fully realizing it. You couldn’t be more in love with him.
And his big fat delicious cock that put a beautiful baby in you and hopefully, will continue to do so for many years to come.
- - - -
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waitimcomingtoo · 1 year
Text
Bringing Sexy Back
Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
Synopsis: Peter tries and fails to seduce you
Masterlist
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To kick off the summer, Tony organized a group vacation to a resort at “one of his less crowded islands”, as he put it. The team sat together on the quinjet while Tony gave out the room assignments to everyone, ending with you and Peter.
“Parker and my beloved offspring, you’re in the penthouse suit with me. But don’t worry, you guys have your own room. It’s just connected to mine with thin walls and a door I can easily break down.” Tony said with a calm smile.
“Thanks, dad.” You smiled back at him before excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. Once you were gone, Sam leaned over to him.
“Wow, I feel for you, man. You really got the short end of the stick.” Sam said and patted Peters back.
“Short? I’m 5’8. That’s average height.” Peter defended himself.
“For a woman.” Sam snorted. “But that’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?” Peter wondered.
“I mean you finally get to spend the night with your girlfriend and her dad is in the next room. That means the only way you’re getting laid is if you crawl up a chicken's ass and wait.” Sam replied, making everyone laugh at Peters's expense.
“Oh. That’s gotta hurt.” Bruce laughed. “It hurt me and it wasn’t even directed at me.”
“That’s called a ricochet.” Natasha said. “Also done by bullets and Taylor Swifts tears.”
“I understood that reference.” Steve chimed in.
“Did you?” Peter asked skeptically, making Steve’s smile fall.
“That’s the one that sings “Single Ladies”, right?” He whispered to Natasha.
“Uh huh.” Natasha smiled sarcastically.
“Are you gonna take that, Parker?” Bruce asked Peter. Peter noticed everyone was looking at him and blushed in embarrassment.
“It wasn’t that clever. Chickens don’t even lay eggs. Hens do. And we don’t do that so it doesn’t matter.” He mumbled. Everyone’s eyes widths they leaned forward in their seats.
“Don’t do what?” Sam asked for clarification. Peter looked around at all the peering eyes and shrunk down in his seat.
“Sex.” Peter reluctantly admitted.
“You don’t do sex?” Sam laughed in surprise.
“Have we forgotten how to speak?” Natasha asked the crowd.
“Why are you guys all looking at me the way we looked at Bucky when he told us he didn’t wash his ass in the shower?” Peter asked.
“It honestly never crossed my mind.” Bucky shrugged.
“Hold on. How long have you guys been together?” Bruce asked Peter.
“Two months.”
“Two months? And you haven’t smushed yet?” Sam gasped.
“Ew. Smushed? There’s no actual smushing involved, right?” Peter forced a laugh. No one replied and his smile fell.
“Right?” He asked seriously.
“No offense kid, but that’s a long time to keep a lady waiting.” Steve said. “You two need to do a little bit of the old how’s yer father, if you know what I mean.”
“I don’t. What the fuck does that mean?” Sam asked and pulled out his phone.
“Who are you to talk? Aren’t you a 1,000 year old virgin?” Peter deadpanned.
“100 years.” Steve corrected. “And yes. I am.”
“No he’s not.” Bucky said.
“I googled it. It was Steve’s old man way of saying putting some stank on it.” Sam read off his phone.
“Why haven’t you guys done it yet?” Natasha wondered. “It’s not like you just met. You’ve known her for years.”
“Yeah, but she’s only been my girlfriend for two months of those years. It’s a big transition. We’re waiting for the right moment.”
“So you’ve talked about it?” Steve asked him.
“Well, no.” Peter admitted. “I’m just assuming.”
“Assuming what exactly?” Natasha asked.
“That’s she’s waiting for the right moment to tell me she wants to do it. And then it’ll just happen then.” Peter shrugged.
“Hm.” Natasha said curtly. Peter noticed the look on everyone’s face and grew worried.
“What?” He laughed nervously.
“Nothing.” Steve shrugged and avoided eye contact.
“You can’t make that face and say “hm” and then not tell me.” Peter insisted.
“I think she’s ready.” Steve admitted. “I think she’s more than ready. You’re the one who’s not ready. That’s why you haven’t made a move yet.”
“She could’ve made a move.” Peter pointed out.
“No girl wants that.” Sam waved his hand. “They want their man to take charge and sweep them off their feet. You know, romance? Making her feel special?”
“She hates being lifted off her feet.” Peter insisted. “I picked her up once and she punched me in the throat and the bing bongs at the same time.”
“Hey, I taught her that move. I’m glad to see she’s using it.” Natasha smiled proudly.
“I have to agree with Sam on this one.” Steve said. “Girls like a romantic gesture. I’m not saying you have to literally sweep her off her feet, but make it clear that you want her. Or else she’s gonna start to feel under appreciated and unseen.”
“You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re waiting and that’s okay.” Peter insisted.
“She’s waiting. For you. To make a God damn move already.” Sam replied.
“And you know what happens if you wait too long?”
“What happens?” Peter gulped.
“She’ll find someone who’s ready now.” Sam shrugged.
“Well what am I supposed to do? How do I make her feel special?”
“She was your best friend before your girlfriend right?” Bruce asked him.
“Yeah.”
“So she should be the person you’re most comfortable with. Just make a move. She’ll make a move in return. That’s how it works.” Bruce explained.
“Just like that?” Peter asked skeptically.
“Just like that.” Sam confirmed. By the point, you were back from the bathroom and sitting in a seat by yourself. Peter graced himself before going over to sit beside you.
“Hey.” Peter smiled at you.
“Hey Petey. What’s going on?” You smiled back.
“Nothing much. Just wanted to come sit by my lady.” He said and wrapped an arm around you.
“Aw. You’re so cute.” You smiled and leaned into him.
“You’re cute. Are these new?” He asked and tugged on the hem of your shorts.
“New to me.” You shrugged. “I stole them from Pepper.”
“I like them. They look good on you.” He said as he looked into your eyes. You smiled at the compliment and leaned in to kiss his cheek. Peter blushed and looked over his shoulder at Sam, who was nodding his head to give him the go ahead. Peter nodded back before returning his attention to you. He went to put his hand on your thigh, but since the action was unnatural to him, he ended up grabbing your thigh so quickly and harshly that you jumped.
“Oh my God. What was that?” You gasped and pushed his hand off.
“Sorry. There was a spider on your leg.” Peter quickly lied.
“And you killed it? Isn’t that like…cannibalism?” You asked him.
“No.” Peter chuckled. “Wait. Oh my God. Is it?”
“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “But thanks for killing it. I didn’t even feel it on my leg.”
“Hm. Weird.” Peter forced a laugh. He looked over at Sam again, who was shaking his head in disappointment.
“This is gonna be harder than I thought.” Peter thought to himself.
With Tony in the room right next store, Peter didn’t dare try anything while on the vacation. But once you returned to the tower a week later, it was game time.
“Peter? Are you in here?” You asked as you knocked on his bedroom door one day.
“One second, baby. I’m in the shower.” Peter called to you from the bathroom in his room.
“Okay. I’ll wait out here.” You shouted back and took a seat on his bed. Peter heard your response and thought back to what the team said about making a move. Before he could second guess himself, he called out again.
“You don’t have to do that. Why don’t you join me?”
“What? I can’t hear you over the water.” You said as you walked over to the bathroom door so he could hear you better.
“I didn’t say anything.” He lied when he felt he had failed.
“Oh. It sounded like you did.” You laughed and leaned against his bathroom door.
“That was just the sound of my shampoo bottle falling.” Peter lied.
“Oh. Okay.” You answered skeptically. You were about to go back to his bed when you heard a loud thud.
“Peter? What was that? Did you shampoo fall again?” You opened the door a little to ask him.
“No. My body did.” Peter groaned from the shower floor.
“Oh no. Are you okay?”
“Not really.” He winced. “I think I twisted my ankle.”
“Do you need help?”
“Yeah, but…” Peter began but trailed off.
“But what?” You asked.
“I’m nakey.” He said in a little voice.
“I’ll close my eyes, okay?” You laughed.
“You don’t have to. I just wanted to warn you that you’re about to see the biggest penis you’ve ever seen.” Peter said seriously, making you laugh again.
“Oh really? Is Thor in there?” You asked.
“That was hurtful.”
“You’re such an idiot. I’m coming in, okay? Hide your massive penis.” You warned as you entered the bathroom.
“I’ll try. But it won’t be easy.” Peter sighed. You opened the shower door with your elbow while covering your eyes with both hands.
“I’m here. Can you see me?” You asked him.
“Why would o not be able to see you? You’re the one with your eyes covered.”
“Oh. Right. Where are you?”
“The floor. Because I fell. That’s typically where people end up after they fall.”
“I should just leave you here to drown.” You said and turned to leave.
“Wait, come back. Please.” Peter whined. “They’ll never find a casket big enough to hold my massive schlong.”
“I hate you so much.” You laughed and came back. You bent down and helped him off the floor but grabbing his arm.
“Ah!” You screamed and dropped his arm.
“What?”
“You’re wet.” You grimaced.
“I’m in the shower.” He reminded you.
“I don’t know why but I wasn’t expecting you to be wet. Put my hand on the knob. I’ll turn it off.” You told him. Peter took your hand and guided it to the knob while you kept your eyes tightly shut. You heard the sound of the water turning off and Peter sighing in relief.
“There we go. Much better.” He said.
“Okay. I’m gonna pick you up now.” You told him and bent down to wrap your arms around his torso.
“Ah!” He screamed.
“What?”
“That tickles.” He sheepishly admitted.
“Oh my God.” You laughed. “Where’s your robe?”
“Hanging on the back of the door.” He told you. You kept your eyes shut but walked over to the door and felt around until you found his robe.
“Okay. I found it.”
“Throw it at me.” Peter said. You threw it outwards and it smacked him in the face. “You got it?”
“Yes. Ow.” Peter huffed as he put it on.
“Sorry.” You grimaced.
“Okay. You can open your eyes now.”
“Okay.” You said but didn’t open them.
“Baby. You open them.” Peter laughed.
“Sorry. I got scared.” You admitted as you opened your eyes.
“Of what?” Peter gulped, thinking you were scared to see him naked.
“Of seeing you on the shower floor and getting the biggest ick of my entire life.” You replied, making Peter laugh in relief.
“Fair enough.”
“Come on, little guy. I gotcha.” You bent down and helped him up with ease now that you could see.
“What did we say about calling me “little guy”?” Peter reminded you.
“That it’s funny and hilarious?” You asked innocently as you helped lead him out of the bathroom.
“Those are synonyms.”
“What about cinnamon?”
“What?”
“What?” You asked in reply. He shook his head endearingly as you walked him over to his bed.
“Okay. We’re here. Sit down.” You said and helped him into his bed.
“Well that was fun. And wet.” Peter said as he combed his wet hair out of his face with his fingers.
“You’re telling me.” You said and showed him your now soaking wet shirt.
“Sorry about that. You can grab a shirt from my closet.” He told you.
“Thanks.” You smiled at him before going over to his closet. You pulled out a T shirt and we’re about to put it on when you felt his eyes on you. You looked over your shoulder at him and he turned red.
“I’ll close my eyes.” Peter offered.
“It’s okay. You can watch. I don’t mind.” You smiled innocently at him before turning back around. Peter gulped as you pulled your shirt off and stayed perfectly silent. He could see your bra band when your hair moved and though it wasn’t much, it was as naked as he had ever seen you. You’d never been in so much as bathing suits around the other so this showing of skin was both unexpected but highly anticipated. Peter watched you pull his shirt over your head and fix your hair before turning back around.
“Better?” He asked in a soft voice.
“Better.” You nodded. He couldn’t help but wonder if you knew about the conversation he had had with the team. It wasn’t like you to get changed in front of him so maybe you weren’t trying to make a move as well.
“How’s your ankle feeling?” You asked as you sat on Peters bed.
“Not bad. I think it’s already healing.” He said and moved his robe to look at it.
“Good. You need it to climb walls and shoot webs out of your butt and stuff.”
“I have told you so many times.” Peter sighed. “The webs do not come out of my butt.”
“There is no doubt in my mind that you’re lying and just won’t show me. And that’s fine.” You shrugged.
“You’re ridiculous.” He laughed and took your hand.
“Yeah. Maybe a little.” You chuckled and played with his fingers. A comfortable silence filled the room as Peter started to form a plan in his head.
“So.” He laughed nervously. “Here we are. In my room. Alone.”
“I know. It’s nice.”
“You think so?” Peter asked hopefully.
“Yeah. It’s so rare we get time when no one else is around. It can finally just be the two of us.” You said and reached out to brush some hair off his forehead. Peter felt his whole face flush and scooted a little closer to you.
“I’ve actually been hoping we’d get some alone time.” He told you.
“Me too.” You smiled coyly and leaned in a little.
“Did you have anything in mind you want to do?” He asked and leaned in as well.
“I could think of a few things.” You flirted.
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“For starters, you’ll have to lose this robe.” You said and ran your hand along the collar of his robe. Peter gulped as you got up and went back over to his closet.
“Done.” Peter nodded as he frantically started to undo the belt of his robe.
“And put this on.” You said as you tossed him some pajamas.
“Whatever you say, pretty girl. Wait, what? What’s this?” Peters smile fell when the pajamas fell into his lap.
“Pajamas. So you can get comfy and we can finally watch New Girl before it leaves Netflix.” You told him.
“Oh. Right. Pajamas. I’ll just put these on.” Peter tried to mask the disappointment in his voice as he tugged his shirt over his head. By the time you were snuggled into his side with your head on his shoulder, his disappointment was gone. He had gotten so caught up in what the team had said that he forgot to appreciate the little moments with you. He let it go for tonight and just enjoyed spending time together.
The next day, he was back on his bullshit. He found you in the kitchen with your back to him as you flipped through a magazine. Peter and wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss on your shoulder to let you know he meant business.
“Hey you.” He said as he rested his chin on your shoulder.
“Hey Petey. What’s going on?” You smiled over your shoulder at him.
“Nothing. I just wanted to see you.”
“You’re so sweet lately. What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing. I just really like you.” He replied and kissed your shoulder again. He decided to make a move and tilted his chin a little higher so he could kiss your neck.
“Fuck me.” You whispered as you flipped a page of your magazine. Peter immediately perked up and turned you around, thinking his plan had worked.
“What was that?” He gulped as his face burned bright red.
“Sorry. Paper cut.” You said and held up your bleeding finger. Peter took a split second to realized you were cursing, not requesting, before jumping into action.
“Here. Let me help.” He said and gently took your finger. He walked to the bathroom with you and turned on the faucet. He was about to put in under the water when he got a different idea. He looked you right in the eyes as he took your finger into his mouth and sucked the blood off of it. You watched him as he did this and gulped a little.
“Peter?” You asked in a soft voice. A hope sparked in Peter’s chest that he had successfully made a move.
“Yes?”
“Do you have any idea how many germs you just put in my open wound?” You said, making all Peters hope disappear.
“Oh. Sorry.” He shook his head in embarrassment and held your finger under the running water.
“Why did you turn the water on and then suck it instead?” You asked him. Peter thought about lying, but knew it was no use.
“I…I thought it would be sexy.” He admitted.
“You thought sucking my paper cut would be sexy? Okay, Edward.” You snorted as you got a bandaid out of the cabinet for yourself.
“Edward? Who’s that?” Peter felt a hot flash of jealousy over the mention of another boys name. He normally wouldn’t have that reaction, but he was extra sensitive after what Steve said about you finding someone else.
“The vampire from Twilight. Relax.” You laughed in surprise.
“Oh. Right.” He smiled in embarrassment.
“Peter Parker. Were you jealous at the mere drop of another boys name?” You playfully gasped.
“Is that bad?” Peter asked as he helped put a bandaid on your finger.
“I don’t think it’s bad.” You shrugged. “I think it’s kinda hot that you’re the jealous type. As long as you don’t get all possessive on me.”
“I won’t. I’ve seen enough white women with “love her but leave her wild” tattooed on them to know better.” Peter replied, making you laugh.
“Well that’s good to hear. And for what it’s worth, you’ve proven to be a lovely boyfriend so far. I’ve really enjoyed these past few months.”
“So have I.” Peter smiled softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss to let him know all was forgiven.
“So why were you trying to be sexy before?” You asked once you pulled away.
“I don’t know. I was just trying to make a move.” He sheepishly admitted.
“Make a move? Why would you need to do that?” You laughed. Peter could barely conceal the disappointment that he felt from your response. It seemed like the number one thing on his mind right now was the last thing on yours.
“Oh. I don’t know.” He faked a smile. You took his face in your hands and made him look at you.
“Petey, if you want me, just take me.” You said like it was obvious.
So he took you.
Peter wrapped an arm around your waist and lifted you with ease as he kissed you. You anchored your arms around his neck so that you wouldn’t slide off as he carried you to his room. Peter laid you down on his bed without ever breaking the kiss. Both of you could feel the electricity in the air and knew something big was about to happen. But before you could get too far, the door opened.
“Hey guys - stop screaming, it’s me.” Sam held up a hand when he was met with screams from you and Peter.
“We know it’s you. What do you want?” Peter groaned.
“Nothing. I’m just bored.” Sam shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich in his hand. You and Peter stared at him in disbelief of his inability to read a room while he noisily chewed his food.
“So what are you guys up to?” He asked and pointed between the two of you.
“Take a wild guess.” You said sarcastically.
“I would tell you what I think is happening.” Thor chuckled. “But I know that’s not the case since you two don’t-“
“Sam.” Peter cut him off.
“Did I say too much? Sorry. I’ll leave you alone.” Sam winked at Peter before leaving the room. The silence between you was uncomfortable as you struggled to know what to say.
“What was he about to say?” You asked an after a minute.
“I have no idea.” Peter lied. You looked at him and he knew he was caught.
“Don’t lie to me. Was he gonna say we don’t hook up?”
“Yeah. He was.” He admitted.
“You told him that?” You asked and got off his bed to put some distance between you.
“No. I would never.” He assured you. “It came up on the plane the other day. They were teasing me about you and it just kinda came out that we haven’t…you know.”
“Oh. Okay.” You nodded but didn’t seem fully convinced.
“I’m sorry. I know you like to be private.”
“It’s not your fault. I just worried that you had been complaining to them that we don’t…” You trailed off and Peter realized why you were upset.
“Honey. Never.” He assured you as he took your hand and gave it a squeeze. This seemed to ease your mind and you sat back down on his bed.
“Okay. Good.” You smiled in relief. Peter avoided looking at you as he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.
“Does it bother you? That we haven’t done it yet?” He asked as a deep blush spread across his face.
“Well,-“ You began.
“Do you guys know the Hulu password?” Sam asked as he opened Peters door again.
“Get out!” Peter shouted and threw a pillow at him.
“I’m trying to watch Bridesmaids. Please.” Sam whined. “I’m desperate. They just added it back on there.”
“Oh my God.“ Peter groaned and rubbed his eyes, knowing the moment had lost.
“Go ask my dad or something.” You huffed.
“You guys suck. Not you, Y/n. Clearly.” Sam laughed at his own joke and left the room again. A awkward silence filled the room again and Peter felt like the worst person in the world. He knew it bothered you that he had told the team something personal and even worse, he could feel your disappointment in him.
“I’m gonna go.” You said to break the silence. You got off the bed and Peter felt you quickly slipping out of his hands.
“Wait! Don’t leave.” He pleaded.
“I have to go move my car.” You said hastily.
“Can we please talk about this?”
“I have to go move my car!” You exclaimed and swiftly left the room.
“I know you don’t have to do that!” He called after you. “We’ve watched New Girl together. I know you got that from Nick Miller.”
Peter let out a frustrated sigh and flopped on his bed. He wasn’t alone for long before Pepper and Thor knocked on his door.
“Hey, kiddo.” Pepper said kindly.
“Woah. Weird combo. Have you two ever interacted before?” Peter asked and pointed between the two of them. They looked at each other and shook their heads.
“No.” They said in unison.
“So what were you doing outside my door?”
“Not that we were listening to your entire conversation, but we were. And you guys need to talk about this.” Pepper said as she sat on Peters bed.
“We tried.” Peter sighed. “Sam kept interrupting.”
“But even before he interrupted, you weren’t really getting anywhere, were you?” Pepper asked kindly.
“What do you mean?”
“Neither of you could even say the word “sex”. How do you expect to do it if you can’t even say it?”
“I don’t know. I never thought about that.” Peter realized.
“You need to have a mature conversation with her about this. That’s the only way to know how she’s feeling and to let her know what you’re feeling.” Pepper said and patted Peters knee.
“Okay. I guess you’re right.”
“Or.” Thor began, getting Peter’s attention.
“Or? There’s another option?” Peter perked up.
“Yes. Here’s what you do. You seduce her. No words, only passion.”
“I’m listening.” Peter leaned in.
“You spray yourself with a sexy body spray. You put some sexy sheets on your bed. You lure her to your bedroom. You play a sexy song. You dim the lights because bad lighting is sexy. You light some sexy candles. You make the setting so irresistible that you won’t need words. She’ll know exactly what’s about to happen.” Thor told him.
“I think that’s a solid plan.” Peter nodded along.
“That’s a horrible plan.” Pepper exclaimed. “That is the dumbest plan I have ever heard. You clearly need to talk to her.”
“How sexy of a song are we talking here?” Peter ignored her.
“The sexiest. But don’t confuse that with raunchy. She’s not gonna get in the mood if she walks in to some degrading song. You need to pick the perfect playlist that does all the talking for you.” Thor told him.
“Or, you could do the talking for you.” Pepper suggested.
“No. I’m gonna go with Thors idea.” Peter decided.
“Huzzah!” Thor raised his arms in triumph.
“Huzzah? How come sometimes you soudn completly normal and sometimes you sound like a World of Warcraft character?” Peter asked him.
“I’m not familiar with this World of Warcraft. But if I had fought in it, I would’ve won.” Thor smiled proudly.
“Thanks for the advice guys. I know what im gonna do.”
The next day, the plan was in action. Peter found some red silk sheets from a box in Tony’s room labeled “my bachelor era” and put them on his bed. He doused himself with a cologne he borrowed from Bruce before taking off his shirt and rubbing baby oil all over his chest, leaving him in just his black boxers. He looked at himself in the mirror and flexed his muscles.
“Perfect.” He decided. Now it was time to lure you in, just like Thor told him.
“FRIDAY, play Careless Whisper. George Michael.” Peter requested.
“Playing Careless Whisper.” FRIDAY said and the song began to blast from the speakers.
“Thank you. Now dim the lights.”
“Dimming, sir.” FRIDAY complied.
“Time to lure.” Peter smiled wickedly. He pulled out his phone and tried to text you but his fingers were too slippery from the baby oil.
“Damn it. FRIDAY, text Y/n stark and tell her to meet me in my room. And say it’s urgent.”
“Texting Tony and Y/n Stark.” FRIDAY, replied, but the music was too loud for Peter to hear it.
“The trap is set. Now we wait.” Peter excitedly rubbed his hands together and turned around. It wasn’t long before he heard his door opening behind him.
“Peter? Are you in here?” He heard your voice and slowly turned around.
“Well hello - TONY?! I mean, Mr. Stark? What, uh, what are you doing here?” Peter laugh nervously and covered his crotch with his hands. You looked at his piled up body and boxers and slapped both hands over your mouth to stifle your laugh. Once you realized what song was playing, you had to turn around so your dad didn’t see you losing it.
“What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Are you covered in sunblock?” Tony asked him.
“No. It’s baby oil.” Peter sheepishly admitted.
“Was that supposed to make this less weird?” Tony asked out of the corner of his mouth.
“Why is he here?” Peter whined and looked at you.
“You texted both of us and said it was urgent. I thought you fell im the shower again.” You explained as you struggled to make eye contact because of how distracting his shiny abs were.
“Again? Peter, can’t you stick to walls? How did you fall in the shower?” Tony wondered.
“I slipped, okay? I’m only human. And a little bit spider.” Peter mumbled.
“Wait a second.” Tony held up a finger when he took in his surroundings.
“Sexy music.” Tony gasped and pointed to the speaker.
“Candles.” He gasped louder and pointed to the candles.
“Baby oil.” He gasped even louder and pointed to Peter. He then walked over to Peter’s dresser and let out the loudest gasp of all.
“Pack of extra small condoms?” He gasped and put his hand over his heart. He then looked at Peter with the rage of a thousand men. Peter looked at you, who looked like a mixture of surprise, embarrassment, and fondness.
“Um, it’s not what it looks like?” Peter said weakly. Tony threw the box of condoms at him and it stuck to Peters oiled chest.
“I knew it! You derelict. You ne’re-do-well. You scallawag. You were gonna try to sex my daughter, weren’t you?”
“Can that word be used in that way?” You wondered out loud.
“No. It’s not a verb. Your form was incorrect.” Peter told Tony, immediately regretting it.
“How’s this for form?” Tony asked and raised both his fists as if he was about to mollywhop Peter. You quickly stepped between them and held up a hand.
“Dad. Stop. You’re not gonna fight Peter. You’re obviously misreading things. There’s no way he brought me in here for that. Right, Peter?”
“Uhhh….” Peter trailed off and smiled weakly. Your jaw dropped for a second, but then you looked really pleased. Tony saw the look on your face and let out a loud, elongated groan.
“Goodbye. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go rinse my eyes out with drain cleaner.” Tony stared at you both in disgust as he walked out.
“Dad. You’re embarrassing me.” You whined.
“FRIDAY, add baby oil to the shopping list. Somebody used it all.” Tony called out as he left the room.
Once you were alone, you and Peter looked at each other and laughed in embarrassment.
“Did you really do all this for me?” You asked and rubbed his oiled up shoulder.
“I did. And it was incredibly stupid. I’m sorry.”
“Why did you do it then?”
“Because I wanted our first time to be special. You deserve special.” Peter sighed. You pouted and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer.
“Aw, Peter.”
“I know. It was dumb.” He sighed.
“It wasn’t dumb. I think it was really sweet.” You assured him. “Just executed in a kind of terrifying way. The song is so loud that it’s rattling my bones and you look like uncooked chicken.”
“Yeah. This was Thors idea.” Peter laughed in embarrassment and looked down at his shiny body.
“Well it’s not the worst sight in the world.” You shrugged and ran your fingertips down his chest. Peter gulped and looked at you, feeling that electricity return.
“FRIDAY, stop playing the song.” You called out without ever taking your eyes off Peter. He got the hint and shot a web at the door to shut it before going to blow out the candles.
“Wait.” You held out your hand, stopping Peter.
“Leave the candles.” You told him.
“Okay. But why?”
“Well, it’s our first time, isn’t it?” You smiled coyly. “It should be special.”
Peter liked where your head was at but couldn’t go through with it without telling you the whole truth.
“They’re M&M scented candles that I stole from Morgans playroom.” He admitted. You stared at him for a long time before nodding your head.
“Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“Stop talking before I change my mind, okay?”
“Okay.” He nodded excitedly and pulled you into a kiss. You kissed him back and felt the same electricity that was coursing through his veins. Peter laid you down on his bed without breaking the kiss and you felt the red silk sheets he had put on under your skin.
“These sheets are a nice touch.” You flirted in between kisses.
“Only the best for you, baby. I took them from your dad.”
With the mention of your father, you immediately pushed Peter off and felt your entire body cringe. He had once again successfully ruined the moment.
“That’s it. I’m done.” You held uo your hands in defeat and left his room.
“Wait!” Peter called after you. “I cleaned them! I swear!”
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baby-yongbok · 24 days
Text
𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚
Fem!Felix x Fem!Reader
𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: Smut 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 3.5k 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Your best friend is curious about a certain taste so you offer some help like a good friend would. 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Oral sex, Rule 63 - Felix is depicted as afab in this fic, 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆(𝒔): Felix is referred to as Lix & Lixie + No use of Y/n + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: Cherry by Lana Del Rey, This is what makes us girls by Lana Del Rey, Cola by Lana Del Rey
♡ Masterlist ♡
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 "What do you think it tastes like?" You peer up from your laptop screen, your curious eyes take in your best friend staring down at her phone screen, her platinum blonde bangs covering her furrowed brows and her glossed bottom lip caught between her teeth.
“What?” She tilts her phone towards you, showing you the filthy video she's been watching on loop for God knows how long. 
“Gosh, Lixie, in my room? Really? Right now?” A chuckle escapes you as you watch the video replay.
“I'm sorry, I know, I was just scrolling and it popped up. You know how unpredictable Twitter can be.” You only half heard what she said, you can see why she stopped to watch this video. Whoever that lucky lady is, is getting her pussy devoured in a way that you can only dream of. 
“But seriously… what do you think?”
“Uh, I actually already know what it tastes like. Well, everyone is different but -”
“Pause.” Your brown eyes shoot up to meet her wide ones. “You've done that before?” 
You can't help the blush creeping up your neck. “Yeah I did, I mean it wasn't planned and it was just -” 
“How did I never know this?” 
“I don't know but you won't find out much more if you don't let me finish.” Lix locks her phone, throwing it to the side and sitting up on her knees so that she faces you with shining eyes. Her plaid skirt rides up her thighs a bit as she gets comfortable on your bed. It’s way too short so that doesn't surprise you. It was her idea to get matching skirts but when the one she wanted was only available a size smaller than what she needed she decided to squeeze into it so that the two of you could match. 
“Start talking.”
“Okay okay uhm, it happened at my old friend's 18th birthday sleepover. It was a classic case of girls just messing around and things going too far. I went down on my friend while everyone else was sleeping, we always had some tension between us and we were both questioning if we were into girls so we just said fuck it and went down on each other.” She stares at you, blinking a couple of times as the information sinks in. “I’ve done it other times since then but that was the very first time.”
“What… does it taste like?” Her Australian accent decorates her words as they slowly fall from her lips, she bites at the inside of her cheek as she waits for your reply.
“Uh, kinda like nothing? Some girls taste kinda bitter and some kinda taste metallic? It depends on where you are hormonally but it generally tastes like licking the back of your hand.” You giggle a bit when her eyes flicker down to her hand. She makes a fist and brings it up to her lips to slowly run her tongue over the skin. You watch her closely, taking in her reaction. She licks again, closing her eyes this time and following with a low hum. 
“Then why do guys say that it tastes sweet?” Her brows are pinched together as her eyes flutter open. “I never understood that.”
“It’s just cause it sounds good I guess? It makes us feel good.” Lix sits back against the headboard to your bed and rests her head on your shoulder. You tuck your curls behind your ear so that she can get comfortable. “Have you never tasted yourself before? You don’t kiss Hyunjin after he goes down on you?”
“I mean, yeah but I just thought it would be a bit different I guess? He always says that I’m sweet so that’s what I expected.”
“I think that they say that when they really like you, ya know? Maybe Hyune likes you a lot.” The scoff that escapes her makes you chuckle, you can already tell that she’s rolling her eyes. 
“He likes everyone, he'd never actually wanna date me and that’s fine cause I’m not interested.” She’s not wrong, Hyunjin is the flirt of your friend group. He only started sleeping with Lix after they shared a drunken kiss and Lix went down on him. Ever since then he’s been trying to sweep her off of her feet but your friend isn’t easy to impress.
“Then why do you fuck him?” You turn to look down at her and she’s already looking up at you with a coy smile. 
“He’s got a big dick.” A loud laugh ripples from her throat as you stare at her with a slack jaw and big eyes. So the rumors are true? “I’m not telling you anything else.”
“Come on, you can not basically tell me that what everyone says about Hyunjin is true and then shut the conversation down!” She kicks her feet as she sinks further down onto the bed.
“I don’t wanna talk about how big Hyunjin’s dick is, I’ll show you a picture later. I wanna talk about how I think I might be into girls.”  She pauses, waiting for my reaction. 
“Oh, you are. You always have been. Everyone knows it, you’re late to your own party.” You slide down to lay next to her, resting your head on her chest. 
“No one was gonna tell me?” She chuckles, playful pushing you off of her. “Some friend you are.” She runs her fingers through your hair mindlessly as she stares up at the ceiling pondering her thoughts. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long. I already know what my pussy tastes like. I wanna know what others taste like.”
“Are you interested in anyone? Like, any girls?” A comfortable silence blankets the both of you while she thinks, her eyes trace the blemishes on your ceiling as she picks her next words.
“I don’t know, not really.” You crane your neck to look up at her but she doesn’t look at you.
“No one at all?” You whisper like you’re trying to get her to let you in on a secret. “Do you fantasize about anyone?”
“Yeah, sometimes.” She whispers back. “I’ve imagined eating someone out…it’s always the same girl.”
“Do I know her?” Lix shakes her head and you smile, sitting up a bit to get a better look at her. Her eyes stay trained on the ceiling until you ask her. “Is it me?” Her gaze slowly drifts over to meet yours. She studies your features for just a second before shaking her head, a deep cherry blush washes over her freckled cheeks as you smile down at her.
“You’re always staring at my tits, I knew it.” You tease with a laugh, falling back down against the mattress and Lix scoffs. 
“As if.” She rolls her eyes before falling into a fit of laughter with you “You’re my best friend and you’re a total babe. How could I resist? I was doomed from the start.” She puts the back of her hand against her forehead and sighs dramatically. 
“Lixie likes me, Lixie likes me.” You sing song as you tease her, poking her side and making her laugh as she swats you away. You two giggle and thrash around a bit before you’re still again, laying on your sides facing each other. 
“I’ll get over it.” She sighs, snuggling into her arm folded under her head. “It’s not like I’m in love with you, I just think you’re hot.”
“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?” She shakes her head and you smile “I think about you sometimes.” Her eyes go wide at your confession and you chuckle at her.
“Swear?” You nod, moving closer to her.
“Do you wanna know what girls taste like… or what I taste like?” You’ve been best friends with Lix long enough to recognize that look in her eyes, you know the answer to your question before she even opens her mouth. “You could… taste me if you want.”
“Now is not the time to mess with me! I’m having a crisis here.” You roll your eyes and grab her by her hip.
“I’m not messing with you, I mean it. You wanna know if you like girls and I’m a girl, this is what friends are for.” She smiles at you, shaking her head a bit as she ponders your offer.
“Are you serious?” You smile back.
“So serious.” The two of you stare at each other for a minute or two, allowing your racing heartbeats to fill the quiet that’s surrounded you. Both of you know what you want to do but who’s going to make the first move?
As if you both can to the same conclusion simultaneously you both lean in to each other, gripping the others hips and capturing your lips in a chaste kiss. Lix giggles at the contact, kicking her feet a bit as excitement surges through her. She leans in again, deepening the kiss and you sigh into it. She feels just like you thought she would and she tastes even better. Soft and sweet. 
“This is insane.” She whispers against your lips before kissing you again. “I have no clue how to eat pussy.” You both fall into a fit of laughter, clutching onto the other's waist as you struggle to find words. 
“It’s not hard at all I promise!” You wrap your fingers around her wrist gently and guide her down to your core. “Feel it first, get to know it.”
“Why are you talking about your pussy like it’s a cat?” You hike your skirt up with your other hand, revealing your cotton white panties with an obvious wet spot forming on the gusset.
“Hey, it’s my kitty and it has feelings.” You rest her hand on your pubic bone, giving her control of how far she wants to go. “Be nice to her.”
Lixie’s slowly moves her fingers over your clothed pubic bone, taking in your trimmed pubes that you’ve carefully styled into a perfect triangle. She inches her way down the inside of your thigh, her palm slightly brushes over your clit and you sigh at the feeling. Her careful touches are something that you’re new to, everyone you’ve ever been with has been rough, their touches seemed rushed and eager but not Lix. 
The feeling of her fingers brushing over your vulva brings you back to the present. Her touch is feather light as she runs two fingers over your clothed folds. She trails up and stops right at your clit, pressing a bit against it. “Oh” You kick your head back, allowing your eyes to flutter shut at the feeling. That’s one thing that you’ve always loved about being with girls, they all know where the clit is.
The feeling of the mattress dipping next to you makes you open your eyes, you watch as Lix moves further down to get a better look at where you're gushing for her. Her barely glossed lips are parted slightly as she looks you over with wide eyes. Her breathing is slow and calm despite her heart beating out of her chest with excitement. The cherry blush on her cheeks has only grown deeper now that she’s face to face with your cunt. Before you can even say anything she’s leaning into you, she places a soft but long kiss over pubic bone and your breath catches in your throat at the sight. 
“Is that okay?” Her voice is barely above a whisper and her eyes never meet yours.
“Yeah.” You let out a shaky exhale as you watch her kiss a bit lower this time. You spread your legs further and she quickly slots herself between them. Her lips brush over your inner thighs, peppering soft but sloppy kisses over the skin. As she got more comfortable she left sweet kisses over your labia, licking a bit at the wet spot forming to get a hint of your taste on her tongue. You tried to stop your hips from bucking up into her but you couldn’t help it, the closer she got to your clit the more eager you got. 
“Lixie.”  You moaned out her name and gasped as she started to tease your clit with her tongue. Her gaze is trained on  you as she kisses and licks over your panties, her wide eyes sparkle with faux innocence. You lazily grab at the blanket under you, small whimpers and restrained hums escape your throat despite your attempts at being quiet.
It’s the middle of a sunny day in May and your room is in the front of the house and your window is wide open. Your record player is playing some random song by Lana Del Rey and though it’s fitting for the situation you highly doubt that the soft music will drown out your moans. 
She breaks eye contact and pulls away so that she can observe your pussy through your ruined panties. She whimpers at the sight of your pussy under the cloth, cocoa and pink just like she imagined it.
“ ‘S so pretty.” She coos as she pinches the lips between her fingers. You moan at the pressure, rolling your hips a bit. She taps to fingers right where your clit sits under the wet cloth and you hiss, throwing your head back.
“Was that okay?” she asks quickly, pulling back a bit. “Hyunjin always does that, and I wanted to try it.”
You laugh and she follows. “You’re trying tricks on me that your fuck buddy does to you!?” She laughs louder, resting her forehead on your thigh.
“No! Well, yeah I am but I don’t have any other reference!” She continues her ministrations, running her fingers over your clit and halting your laughter immediately. Your whole body tenses in pleasure as you clench around nothing. Your body tingles with excitement as she kisses you over your panties once more. You could cum from just the thought of her doing that and now she’s here, with her mouth on your clit and you can’t help but want to explode right on her tongue.
 “Can we take these off?” she tugs at the hem of your panties and you offer an eager nod before lifting your hips to allow her to pull them off. Lix gasps as she pulls your panties down, her jaw hangs slack as she watches a string of arousal connect you to your soaked panties. She takes in the way that your cunt glistens in the spring sunshine and she swears that it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. “Is this a dream?” She mumbles under her breath but you hear her.
“It might be.” You prop yourself on your elbows, determined to watch her as she tastes you. She throws your panties to the side and spreads your pussy with two fingers. Her lust glazed eyes study you like you’re a work of art. She takes in every mole, every slight glimmer of your arousal and every clench of your tight hole. Her eyes meet yours for a second before she leans in closer. You stare down at her, not daring to break eye contact. She dips her tongue out and slowly licks a stripe up your leaking cunt. A loud moan escapes you when her eyes roll back at the taste of you, a whine leaving her throat when she swallows your essence. 
“Oh my god.” You say in unison, chuckling for just a second before falling back into the moment. She’s eager to taste you again, wasting no time dipping her tongue back out and licking up your folds.
The tip of her tongue teases your clit a bit and you buck up into her. She notes the reaction, leaning in to circle your clit with the tip of her tongue. Her eyes are on yours the entire time, she blinks up at you, drinking in your reactions to her amateur work. “ You look so pretty down there. Holy fuck, Lix.”
She feels more confident with your praise lingering in her head. She sucking your clit between her lips, laving over the sensitive bud and humming in satisfaction when you arch your back off of the mattress with a loud moan. Her small hands press against your inner thighs to keep them open for her as she runs her tongue up and down your folds. She flicks, licks and sucks all of the right spots, fucking you with her tongue once she’s truly comfortable.
You’re a moaning mess, your body trembles with pleasure as she works you towards your climax. Her name tumbles from your lips like a prayer and your fingers grab at the hair at the crown of her head. You’re so close but you don’t want this to end.
“Y-you’re really good at that.” She swirls her tongue over your clit, writing the alphabet with her tongue and you shudder at the dragged out moan she offers in response. You can feel your orgasm creeping up your spine, the familiar warmth starts to wash over you but she pulls away before it can take you completely. You whine in protest but before you can say anything she slides a finger inside you. You cry out, fisting the blanket under you in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.
“Oh my god, yes, like that, please, please add another.” Your breathing intensifies when she slips another finger into you, stretching you perfectly.
“I should still eat you out right?” You nod frantically, eyes shut tight as you chase your high. She dives back in immediately, lapping at your clit like an expert as she fucks your clenching hole. Your body shaking with pleasure as your orgasm washes over you, your moans and cries are so loud that you’re positive that anyone passing your house can hear your signs of pleasure but you couldn’t care less. 
“Lix-ah, Lix, Lixie, I’m cumming” She licks up your gushing arousal as you come undone, her free hand keeps you spread open for her as she laps up your juices. A chorus of moans float through the air, some belonging to you and some her. Once you start to settle down she slowly slides her fingers out of you and gives your cunt one last lick before backing away. Her chin is glistening in the sun as she smiles, her swollen lips are coated in your juices and the two fingers that were previously buried in your cunt are now between her lips as she runs her tongue over them. She rests her head on your thigh as she watches you come down from the clouds.
“This is definitely a dream, there’s no way that I made you cum that hard.” She smiles, as she wipes her chin with the back of her hand. “Did I do okay?”
“Was my screaming not enough of a give away?” You both laugh and she crawls back up to lay next to you. “Thoughts?”
“You taste…sweet.” She side eyes you with a smile and you both erupt into a much more intense fit of laughter. “You must like me.” You tease, pushing her playfully. “C’mere”
You lean up in an attempt to catch her lips with yours and she closes the gap, pressing her swollen lips against yours with a hum. “I am sweet.” She chuckles and you push her down onto your mattress.
“It’s your turn now.” 
“You don’t have to -” You cut her off with a kiss.
“I really want to.” She smiles up at you and watches as you crawl down her body. Just when you’re about to flip her skirt up her phone chimes underneath her. She ignores it and turns her attention back to you, lifting her hips to give you access to her pink strawberry print panties. You kiss her outer thigh and start moving inwards but before you can get too far her phone vibrates again. She groans in annoyance before she lifts up and grabs the device, unlocking it aggressively and checking her notifications.
“Oh.” She whispers with wide eyes as she sits up. “Oh no oh god I completely forgot.”
“What?” You ask, crawling back up to look at her screen. “Oh.” 
“I completely forgot that he was picking me up, our plans completely slipped my mind.” She starts typing quickly, trying to come up with a message that would get her out of her plans. Her phone vibrates in her hands seconds after her message is sent and somehow her wide eyes get even wider. “He’s here.”
“What?” Before you could even ask any questions there’s a knock at your window. All of your friends come through your window when it’s open. Why not? It’s in the front of your house and it’s fucking huge. You turn quickly and sure enough Hyunjin is lifting himself up and into your room. 
“Ladies.” He greets with a sigh once he’s in, he takes you both in with furrowed brows. His eyes dart from your skirt around your waist to Lixie’s messy hair then down to your friends flipped up skirt and then they finally stop at your ruined panties discarded at the end of your bed. “What’s going on here?”
“Nothing.” You say in unison, not even bothering to fix your appearances. 
“Nothing?” He questions, an eyebrow raised and a sly smirk on his lips as he looks you both over again. 
“Yeah we’re just…” Lix trails off, looking at you for assistance but Hyunjin finishes before you can jump in “Tasting cherries?” He walks over to your bed, sitting at the edge and leaning back against the frame. 
“Mind if I have a taste too?”
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a/n : Thanks for reading! I've never written anything like this ever so I hope you enjoyed! Reblogs, Comments and likes are appreciated and always make my day!
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palmtreesx3 · 8 months
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Deeper for You
Summary: (5.1 k) It's your annual beach trip with the crew from Hawkins, something you've all been doing together your whole adult life after life forced everyone to part ways. You're all close, but this year, an accidental encounter in the outdoor shower makes you get a little closer with one person in particular.
This is self indulgence at its finest. Fresh off my last week at the beach this summer, I needed a little Beach Steve in my life to tide me over.
Steve x Reader, NSFW 18+ Accidental exposure, friends to lovers, breast play, female oral, fingering, dirty talk encouraged, a little orgasm denial, maybe a spank and unprotected intercourse in the shower.
Crystal water. Crystal skies. Beach chairs circled around umbrellas and coolers. Crisp beers slipped in aging koozies and passed around like old times. You and your friends have been doing this for years. Ever since goals and lives and even some wives have taken the group here and there, Nancy started organizing this annual beach trip for the group from Hawkins. Years and miles have nothing on deep seeded trauma, she said once, in a too cheerful voice despite it's truth.
The heat of the sand between your toes and the smell of suntan lotion have become a comfort to you, just knowing you're back there with your closest friends. As you all creep closer to thirty than you'd like, this week never fails to make you feel nostalgic, youthful and forget all of your problems because it never feels like an ounce of time has passed with any of these people.
This year Nancy had to upgrade the rental - more rooms for yet another married couple in the mix, Eddie adding a wife - a little too sweet but just enough sass for him - into the fold. It was your first time meeting her, really meeting her, because no bride has the time for new friendship on their wedding weekend, and you've had such a nice week spending time with her. Chairs in the sand by the waterline together with a book most afternoons, leaving the raucous energy that comes after some morning beers as background noise to your fantasies.
"What are you two ladies reading over here anyway" Steve pokes at your shoulder on his way down to the water to cool off.
"They're fantasy novels, Steve. Naughty books, if you must know." You tease back, Eddies wife blushing beside you at your brazen honestly.
"Naughty books? Like love stories where they kiss and share a bed?"
"No Steve, like '... And then she felt the tips of his finger circle her clit before toying with her folds and the wetness pooling between her thighs. Edging her, pulling her closer but never giving her cunt what she really wants'" you read in an exaggerated and breathy voice direct from your page, picking up right where you left off. "That, Steve, is Naughty Books. "
"Shit. Okay. Well I'll leave you two to it, then. What the fuck." and he trots off into the waves. Sunkissed skin a perfect contrast to the white, foaming waves he's now floating in.
"So, that… you guys have a thing before or something?" Eddie's wife asks softly. So sweet, you can't even be mad at her for it.
"Steve?" You laugh, "No-no no. Just go way back "
"Oh I'm so sorry" she squeaks out, "I just thought… I mean you guys. Nevermind."
"Don't worry about it. We're all a little too close for comfort sometimes. I get it. We just have always gave each other shit as long as I've known him, that's all."
Later that night, the whole group gathers in the back of the house around a huge built in fire pit, all taking turns sharing, giving updates about life and work and families.
Late nights have been happening all week around this pit, but tonight is cool, and the Sangria Robin and Max mixed up is keeping you chilled.
"Hey, honey. You finally quit or do you want to join us over here?" Steve calls over to you, beckoning to the group of smokers over on the bench seat to the left of the fire.
"Every time I try… someone like you offers me a smoke and here I am again." You shrug as you lean over to snag the pack of cigarettes from Steve's outstretched hand before taking a seat. You slide out a slim cigarette and pull the lighter from it's spot in the back, lighting up and passing it back, kicking your feet out on the coffee table in front.
"Someone like Steve, what's that supposed to mean? You hurling insults again?" Johnathan teases.
"No, no. Byers, shut the fuck up. Lemme enjoy this sweet nicotine with my friends in peace, okay?" You roll your eyes, not actually knowing what you meant either, before shooting a look at Max sitting with the group. "Since when did you sit on the smokers bench? Huh?"
"Don't start with me mom. You've tried to quit four times a year for the past 10 years, so I don't even wanna hear it from you." The redhead sasses back.
Such a beautiful, self assured young women she's grown into, despite having such poor eyesight from…everything that happened…you have always had a soft spot for Max, and she for you. The glasses she wears are thick, despite years of corrective surgeries, but they don't take an ounce away from how lovely she's grown to be.
"Yeah yeah, just shut up and enjoy it. I bet Lucas hates it. Doesn't he? Goodie two shoes." You quip back and Max giggles in agreement, both of you taking a long drag as a follow up.
"You two man-eaters are trouble." Steve jabs.
"Excuse me, man-eaters? The one who has been dating the same guy since middle school and me, who goes on what, maybe 4 dates all year? Yeah total man-eaters, Steve."
After finishing your smokes, you all rejoin the group, playing dollar games of cards and dice, laughing the night away at bad luck and bad jokes. El has been banished to watching over participating and when Eddie's wife asks why, the mutters and mumbling of a wide variety of excuses poured out.
"It's uh - against her religion!" straight from Dustin's mouth won out, mostly because it was the loudest. So now you're all pretending El is Muslim, and that's definitely not going to last the rest of the week.
It's nearing two am as you pad up the stairs, pockets 10 dollars deeper, sand still clinging to your feet just barely and Steve's button up on your shoulders from when he passed it to you to quell your chill. Just like every other night of the trip, you sleep like a baby, tucked in a soft mattress with softer sheets and the blanket of a decent buzz still coursing through your bloodstream.
The next day is the last on the shore and after a late start and breakfast cooked up by Nancy and Johnathan to sop up the hangovers the day goes on much like the rest before it. Relaxing in beach chairs and blankets, music softly humming from a boom box in the shade of the umbrella, balls being tossed in a friendly game of touch football in the loose sand by the dunes.
The tide was rough today and swept you and Eddie's girl away on your chairs once before you slipped your books back in your beach bag and decided if you can't beat it, join it. Frolicking in the waves together, the rest of the group is shortly behind you joining in.
It's not five minutes until Eddie is tackling his wife into the crashing waves, rolling her dramatically in the lapping waves and sand. Max and El are jumping through crashing waves, hand in hand trying to make it past the crest and to where it is calm. Some of the boys are sitting in the sand watching and enjoying the cool breeze you catch when you're closer to the sea.
You, well, you were enjoying yourself wholeheartedly. That is until you're making your way back to shore and a huge wave creeps up behind you and slams you to the ground. Water currents tossing you around a bit like a ragdoll, it's a moment before strong arms pull you up and out, wiping your hair out of your face and brushing the wet globs of sand off you as you regroup. It's Steve who's got you and brings you back to shore, where you flop down on the sand together and burst out in laughter after you're both sure that you're alright, making it even harder to catch your breath.
The day at the beach was way more sandy than usual because of it all, sitting in the sand, being thrown around by gritty waves and soupy sand finding it's way intermingling with your bathing suit. You just can't wait till the end of the day to shower and hose off, so you dip away to hop in the rinse shower along the side of the property. Door swung shut, you run the water cold so it's as refreshing as it is a welcome rinse to your body where the sand is sticking and scratches.
Hair slicked back by the cool droplets, you're realizing quickly that a simple rinse won't rid your swimsuit of all of the caked in sand. Maneuvering your emerald green one piece to shake free the grit of the ocean, you're making progress as you drop your wide set straps off your shoulders and start working out the sand from your upper half.
It's just then that Steve must have had the same idea, and he's traipsing through the door of the shower himself, only to find you, strap down, left breast fully exposed, tan lines of your right crisp and leaving nothing to the imagination the way the suit is bunching down, and your hands coaxing the water over them from the low pressure showerhead to work off the sand.
"Holy fuck!" You both yell at the same time.
Yours an exclamation. A "Holy FUCK!" A barked out reaction to the surprise. The admonishment of your friend who doesn't seem to pay a goddamn mind to anything going on around him or he would have heard the shower tap on and running when he approached.
But his… Well, his was a statement. A "Holy. Fuck." Drawn out. A deep and gravely comment made to acknowledge the surprise he's found. More of an interest than an intrusion.
So when you reached to cover yourself and hide from embarrassment as a knee jerk reaction, he didn't make quite as quick a move to leave you be. He lingered, just enough for you to notice and under his breath whispered out again "Holy fuck."
Adequately covered, or at least enough that you can feel functional at this point, you look at him to quip "Are you just gonna stare or what?" And you expect him to snap out of his titty haze and leave you be to shake out the rest of your sand trap, but he doesn't.
Instead he asks, "Well, is that an invitation?"
Your eyes narrow at him, and he shrugs in reaction. "You can't be serious, Steve. Get outta here."
"I save you, and this is the thanks I get?" He teases, and you can't help but see how his eyes, blown out and black, don't move from your body when he says it.
"Steve." You say, quietly.
"Yeah?"
"I can thank you later." comes out just above a whisper.
"I think I'd rather you thanked me now."
When you don't argue back, or say anything for that matter, he takes that as enough of an answer as he needs. He knows you, and he knows that you have no problem telling someone to take a hike, so if you're not yelling at him like he's a small boy who got his hand caught in the cookie jar, he knows you're inviting him to take a bite.
So he's inside the shower quicker than your mind can even catch up to what's happening. He's crowding your space and reaching backwards to do the one thing you forgot to do yourself, hook the damn lock. You're pretty sure this man hasn't moved his eyes from you since the moment the door opened and at this point, you're meeting his gaze.
A sweeping hand, under your ear and landing on the nape of your neck is what shakes you out of your daze and before you know it his lips are on yours. It's a bruising thing, the way he presses them into yours, pulling you closer still by where his hand is cupping your head with his broad hand. You come up for air just a second before he backs off and you find yourself, open mouthed and smiling into his lips, still pressing into you. "Fuck. Honey. I- you okay? With this? I don't wanna… "
"I know I tell you this all the time, but this is different. Steve, you fuckin talk too much. Shut. Up." You say, emphasizing your words with two little tugs to his own hair where your hands have snaked around, too.
And he takes this welcome advance as an opportunity to wrap his other hand around you, up and under your arm, resting at the center of your back. Pressing together, you're so close. Impossibly so, and every little tick of the hip or twitch of the lips can be felt by the other instantaneously. He's testing you out but getting bolder by the second when he experimentally rolls his hips just a bit before coaxing your legs a bit wider to slot his knee in between. You gasp out at the feeling of him against you and involuntarily find yourself rolling your cunt against his thigh.
"Ah-oh fuck. Shit. Steve." You squeak out, as you look down to see that he's tucked up his swim shorts high enough that your grinding on his exposed thigh. Bristly hair on his legs commingling with the scratch of the sand and sea salt on your own thighs.
"C'mon, honey. You came in here to get clean. Me too. Lemme help you, yeah? '
Nodding your permission, he gently slips his fingers under the still loose straps of your suit, coaxing them down further, fingers ghosting over your arms as he works them down.
You've been doing this trip for years, and you swear the last thing you ever thought would happen was having Steve fucking Harrington peeling off your wet swimsuit in the shower. "You sandy all over, huh? Me too. Gotta rinse you off." he says, as he's reaching up for the shower head, detaching it from its base and bringing it down in between the two of your chests. Holding it there for a moment, he seems to consider this whole thing for the first time. "You-your good, right? I mean, I trust you. Do you trust me? "
"Yeah Steve, I do." You say, pressing your forehead to his and blinking away droplets gathering on your eyelashes.
He pulls the rest of your swimsuit away from where it's suctioned on your tummy and works it down your body, dropping heavy and wet on the shower floor. Once it's out of his way, he's back on your lips, sucking in your bottom lip just as you feel the cool water hitting your clit. Steve moves the shower head gently but purposely around your whole cunt, paying attention to your sensitive bud between passes through your folds. "Gotta get you cleaned up, huh? Need you clean for me. For what I'm gonna do next." He teases and you moan at his words.
Not exactly sure what he has planned just yet, you let him keep working your pussy clean and with every second of the pulsing jets of water hitting your clit rhythmically. "Yeah, baby I think you're all set." He states, replacing the shower head where it belongs and reaching his free hand down to rub through your folds, checking to be sure you're comfortable and free of that pesky sand.
When he's met with yet another whimper he's immediately dropping to his knees on the wet planks of the shower floor "Can I please, please taste you. Please."
"I didn't take you as one to beg, Harrington." You whisper out the tease.
"I will for this - for you. God, would you just answer me?"
You look down at him and nod but he wants your words instead, commanding you to speak up. And so you do, you gasp out confirmation just as his lips latch on to your already sensitive clit. He suckles there a little bit, before moving to make his tongue wide and flat coaxing noises from you that he doesn't want to forget the sound of.
He throws your thigh over his shoulder, giving him deeper, more angled access to your cunt, working you, moving it in and left to right. You cry out as his nose nudges at your clit while he slips a finger in up to his second knuckle and the cry turns silent as he keeps up his ministrations. Droplets of water are tickling down your chest and stomach, soaking his hair and face where he stays tucked in between your thighs. He shakes his head back and forth tapping at your clit with his movement and making you see stars.
Adding in another finger, he keeps lapping at your pussy, taking breaks to nip at the place where your thighs meet your sex and back again. He licks off a trail of water along the seam of your leg before making his way back to your center. Scissoring his fingers, he groans right into you and the vibration of it all drives you wild. "God, you fuckin taste like heaven. So good." And he dives back in, running his wide tongue along your entrance, drawing it front and upward toward your clit.
This time he pauses and presses his tongue up into the base of your clit, holding it there just as he presses both long fingers up and into your spongy spot, freeing the most wanton sound yet from deep within your throat. It spurs him on to keep going, pulsing that tongue and stroking that spot within. You're tensing and shaking under his strong grip and soft tongue, leg still hiked high over him, water cascading around the both of you. You're tumbling over the edge quickly after that.
In a bit of a daze and with wobbly knees, you swing your leg back down off his shoulder and bring him up towards you by his ears, wanting to taste yourself on his tongue in ways you never have before, and he looks beautiful like that. Eyes wide and wanton, hair dripping wet down his hair spattered chest, jaw slack in his own lust and pleasure, lips a deep pink and swollen from working you up down there. You bring him up fully to meet your lips and groan into his mouth, your taste heady and salty and beachy.
"I think you're clean" he laughs out as he pulls back just slightly and you can't help but bark out a laugh back. He takes the opportunity to latch on to your neck and bites at the skin under your ear.
In that moment you decide you're not done with him.
Tugging at the ties of his swim trunks, Steve pulls back to look at you. "N-no, we don't have to."
You hear his words but you also feel the hardness underneath those trunks, "Steve, it's - it's no big deal. You started this. Let me… let's finish, yeah?" You eye him teasingly, eyebrows raised, "Something tells me you want to."
"You're a menace, you know that right? Always have been."
"Yeah, but you're into it, apparently." you stand on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear.
"Fuck. Fuck. Yeah." He gets out as you lick the water droplets up "Seeing you here every year. Highlight of my trip. Swear to God."
And as his soaked trunks hit the floor, the pair of you are both fully exposed standing under the running water together. Running your hand along his chest, playing with the tufts of hair there, you hook your finger though the thin chain hanging from his neck and pull him closer. "Steve." You whisper into his mouth.
"Yeah, whaddya need, honey?"
"You. God just, please fuck me. Okay?"
Clutching you close by the waist, he hikes your leg up and around his hip, reaching down along your ass to rub at your pussy from behind, working you up again. Almost teasing. The rock hard length of him is pressed up between your two tummies, begging to be paid attention to, so you break your bodies apart for just a second to angle him down, slipping if wetly between your lower lips - a mix of water and your hot dripping slick letting him slip through your folds.
A whimper slips out of your lips as his head catches your clit and he takes the opportunity to press into you, sounds something like a growl falling from his own lips at the feeling. Your mind is going blank, but the one thing you're sure of is that Steve Harrington's dick is huge. "Ohmigod, you're, bi- oh" you moan as he adds another few inches, moving slowly for you. "Fuck, you're huge. Jesus, Steve."
"Yeah? Biggest you ever had? God, tell me it's the biggest you've ever took."
"Shit" you hiss, as he bottoms out inside you, yelping out as you both finally meet at the base. "Yeah, shit. No one's ever been that fuckin deep, Steve. Holy shit."
"Fuck, yeah. I'm gonna move now, okay? You're good, right?" And you nod, enthusiastically. Almost too enthusiastically.
You've known Steve almost your whole life. You've played on playground swing sets growing up, rolled your eyes at his antics at your friends' parties in high school, cheered him on at basketball games and worked alongside him as lifeguards at the country club pool. You give him shit, he gives it back to you. You share comfortable silences and close friends. He's had your back in the face of monsters and raging fires… But right now, all that's on your mind is how he's pounding into your pussy in this shower and why this has never ever happened before in all these years. Because Jesus Christ, it's feeling euphoric.
The slapping of skin echoes loudly in the wooden and metal enclosure of the shower, bodies slick with water , hands gliding along your back and along your ass, keeping that knee hiked high for him, yours clutching the front of his shoulders and digging crescent moons into his skin. He's making noises, has he thrusts up into you at a bruising pace, hitting your cervix and making you cry out…but he's holding back all the same and all you want is him to let go a little more.
"Fuck, wait. Holy shit. Lemme just… " you drop your leg down and hear his small whine as he slips out of you, but you're quick to flip your body around, leaning forward and bracing yourself on the beams of the wooden door frame, shaking your ass at him in an invitation to get close to you again. "Wait. Wait… " you gasp out as you feel his tip nudge against your entrance from behind.
"What's wrong? Are you .. are you okay? I can stop." He gets out through heaving breaths.
"No. I'm good… but if you wanna finish me off, you gotta do one thing for me." Looking over your shoulder, giving him a playful but serious look.
"What'dya need. Honey. Anything. What do you want?" He holds his cock, pulsing and screaming to be let back inside your warm and velvety walls, dots of precome rinsed off by the droplets of water as fast as they emerge.
"Don't hold back. Just… .let me hear you. I wanna hear you. Talk to me. Don't shut up. And fuck - fuck me harder" you hiccup out.
"Yeah, yeah okay. I'll … I'll - fuck" he pushes in fully in one slide, no resistance from you in the least. "You wanna hear how good you make me feel huh? Always so cocky. Jesus."
His fingers are pressing into the tops of your thighs, purple mottled marks already blooming there under his fingertips as he pulls you backwards, spearing you on his cock, meeting him thrust for thrust. His other hand is wrapped around your waist, reaching for the soft of your belly, snaking up your chest until he finds your tits, nipples peaked with the chill of the air now that you're not directly under the stream of water. He runs his thumb along your nipples, giving them a playful flick back and forth before massaging them and pulling you up to meet him, back to chest.
In this position, you can drop yourself down as you meet his upward thrusts, bouncing on his cock and you feel his tip nudging a particular spot inside you that makes your walls constrict. "Oh honey, yeah? That's it. That's the spot isn't it?" And you can tell that has Steve's mind going off the deep end, making good on his promises to let you hear him, he's babbling, water splashing and raining down on you both, his grunts getting louder, and your name slipping off his lips in a whisper, like it belongs there.
Reaching back and around his neck, you turn so that you can see him and tilt his down to meet your gaze. Mouths both open, panting into one another, lips touching but never connecting because you can't quite sync up with the way you're both grinding on each other. "Jesus Christ, hnng fuck, I'm gonna… honey. Where do you want me? C'mon. Tell me."
You hear his sharp intake of a breath and feel his lips latch on to your throat, leaving sloppy kisses and sucking a bruise into it that you know you'll have to explain to your friends later. "Nnn-no. No. Not yet. I told you, lemme hear you. You're holding back I can tell."
"Oh-okay yeah. Gimme a sec. " He breathes through his nose taking in the scent of whatever vanilla soap you were using before he barreled in, maybe a little coconut still left over from your sunscreen, too. He exhales as his hand drifts down your front, settling over your mound and expertly finding your clit once again. He's rubbing figure eights, before sliding it between his two fingers, giving it pressure and pull from the sides as he continues to thrust into you from behind, bouncing you with very little effort because of how wet and slick you are from the shower.
"You're a fuckin' piece of work, you know that. Shit - taking me like this… fuck. " He growls out as he bends you forward fully now, holding you up by your chest as he rams into you. Leaning over just enough to get close to your ear he whispers in "Ya gonna let me come now? Fuck - ya gonna let me put it on your back? Huh? Your tits? Where do you wanna have it, honey?" He hisses as you grind your hips backwards and clench down hard on his shaft, squeezing on him and making his thrusts slow down, become more meticulous, more purposeful.
You're gasping in air and squeaking out noises of all kinds in time with his thrusts, telling him just how good he's making you feel between breaths. Just how deep he is hitting you. Just how much you wanna hear him when he comes. He's huffing out breaths and promising you things like next time as he's incoherently babbling praises at you as you ride back on his dick.
"You like when I talk about coming for you? You wanna have it, yeah?"
"Y-yeah I wanna. Inside. Do it inside, fuck!" You shout out, water from the showerhead beating on your back as his thrusts are jolting you forward where you're braced against the door. The janky little rusted metal latch holding on for dear life as he continues his pace, chasing his high and praying to God you let go with him.
He's feeling bold now that his brain is only chasing your orgasms. He groans the loudest moan you've heard from him this whole time as you feel him tense behind you, keeping up his movements but, just barely. His hips are stuttering and his hand falls down on your ass in a loud smack. "Ohhh shit. Honey. Yeah. That's what I'm talking about."
Your walls give him one last squeeze and you grip him tight, legs shaking under you as your orgasms rushes over your whole body. He has to hold you up as it rolls through your body, flashes going off behind your eyes as you cry out with pleasure. The pain from the smack to your ass being washed away with the cool of the water trickling over you.
It takes him only three firm thrusts more to fill you up, stuttering sounds falling from his lips. Incoherent blabbers and praises and gasps of your name spurting out along with his come.
You're both absolutely breathless, heaving chests and deep sighs filling the air while still connected to one another. Steve pulls you up slowly as he slips out of you, and spins you around. Still cradling your body and wrapping you into him, he pulls you both under the water to rinse off and come back down from wherever you both are floating off to right now. As you stand there swaying under the cascade, he brings his lips to your temple with a kiss as he mutters "I did mean it. I love seeing you here every year."
You hum along with him, because you do love seeing him too. You just never thought about it like this before. And now that you have, you're pretty sure it's the only way you can from here on out.
"We should probably get back down to the beach. I'm sure at least one of those nosey dipshits have noticed were both missing by now." Steve says against your skin.
"Yeah, yeah, you're right. But you are the one explaining these marks you left on me. I'm not saying a peep."
"Aw, c'mon sweetheart. You had a lot to say when I was in-"
"Stop that right now. If you wanna even think about doing this again, you're gonna stop right now." You roll your eyes at him while wrapping yourself with a towel and unlatching the door. As you back out and start up towards the house to grab a new swimsuit, he sees the grin on your face.
"Yeah, okay honey. Shutting my mouth now...so I'll definitely see ya later, then." He says with a wink, just as the door shuts and your left naked, wrapped up in Steve Harrington's towel with all your friends gathered round the grill out back making lunch watching you as you make your way around the path.
Eddie snarls a wide grin at you as he brings both thumbs up, his wife slapping his chest when she notices. "Hey Nance!" He yells out. "I think Harrington's got himself a new roommate for next trip!"
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pinkslaystation · 1 month
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Tulips or Roses?
John Price x reader
In which you find John's old diary detailing his love for you his teammate and you begin to question his love for you. Word Count: 3.6k
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Being a civilian to a soldier was hard enough.
And it was even harder when your husband was a commander for one of the most skillful task force. So it wasn't unusual for him to be gone for long periods of time.
So on a random Friday evening, anticipating his arrival in the coming week, vacuuming the floors, cleaning the windows, you found yourself at the door of John's study, with was decorated with a glass name plate, with the words 'Study' accompanied with a painted heart created from blue and pink fingerprints from you and your husband.
John was never the man to tell you off if you entered his study, instead he encouraged it. He's beckoned you to bring him his evening tea to him, to give him a massage, sometimes when you wanted him, he'd allow you to help him under the desk, if you get what I mean. (speaking from experience ;>)
As you stepped into his room, you noticed the ceilings adorned with sizable white cobwebs, cringing at the apparent neglect of his study. When was the last time someone had even been here?
Sweeping his desk, wiping away the dust, you find a box underneath beside his chair, which prompted you to lifting it up and placing on top of the desk. Man, you underestimated it's weight. You struggled to lift a small but heavy moving box, and it caused a few books and papers to fall out.
You cursed at your clumsiness, picking up the loose sheets, until you fingers caught the spine of a red vintage-like book, which had the word 'diary' written on the front. You didn't take too much notice, skimming through the pages until you caught your name being mentioned a phew times.
You giggle, it's a diary probably with John confessing his love to you numerous time! You know you probably shouldn't look through it, I mean privacy exists, but you just can't help it.
So you look through some of the infrequent entries, the oldest dating back to 10 years back, and the most recent one being nearly 4 years, when you and John had first met.
30th February 2010
Suffering in Afghanistan, the lads and I are stuck in the safe house for a week now. Rose is here too, I should ask her if she's okay.
Ahhh you remember this story. When the Task Force was stuck in the city of Kandahar, in the safe house. You also remember John's team, whom you are well-acquainted with, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Roach, Rose?
You skip through the boring entries, most of which are just John documenting his work-out plan and the places him and his team had visited.
5th July 2016
Gaz's going on and on about his lass. Someone tell him to talk to her at least, he doesn't even know her name! I keep bringing it up but he keeps mentioning when I'll talk to Rose.
You chuckled, assuming the chick was Gaz's current wife. But the last part caught your attention, Rose again? You remember John telling you that she'd retired, went back north to settle with her family now, so you don't think much of it, I mean they are team mates.
19th June 2017
Saw a cute kid and her mama, wishing I had kids, without this lifestyle. Rose wants a son but I don't particularly mind. Soap overheard our conversation and spammed me lols on Whatsapp, but I thought lol meant little old lady? I am a man though.
You raise your eyebrow at another mention of Rose, why doesn't he care if Rose wanted a son? You didn't realise how close your husband was to her.
2nd December 2018
Christmas this month with my boys. Rose invited me over for a smoke. Ghost rolls his eyes when I mentioned it to him, says I need to man up and make a move.
You squinted your eyes, rereading the entry, and hesitantly skipping to the next one.
7th April 2019
Drinks with my men (and Rose haha, she doesn't like being part of the men). It's her birthday and she wants to tell us something. She's got her red lips again. I'm excited, Soap kept nudging me the entire ride, that cheeky bugger.
Then immediately below it, an update: She's seeing someone.
You're slowly piecing the puzzle, though you don't want to assume anything.
21st August 2019
She came into my room crying, seems like it's not going well, good for me. I hope she's okay and she realises there's better fish in the sea. She hugged me, she smells like roses, I love floral scents. I tried leaning in, she says I'm like an older brother to her.
Your heart breaks a bit, sniffing at your freshly washed hair, which smelt like ... like roses.
You thought floral scents were YOUR thing.
You continued, to the next entry which was marked the date you remember meeting John for the first time at the pub. You force a smile, hoping the entry would lighten your mood.
30th November 2020
In the pub and bored. Rose brought her lad... they're back together. What does she see in him? Soap urges me to find someone else but my heart is set on someone, for a long time. Won't change. He keeps gesturing to a girl on the other end of the counter, she's pretty, but like a tulip. Not like a rose. Not like my Rose.
You grip at the notebook and you try your hardest not to rip the papers out of the book and set his entire study on fire.
You remember this day, when you were dragged to the pub by your friends after being dumped by your ex for another girl. You sat at one end of the counter, with tears in your eyes but one look at that buff Englishman on the other end and your mood flipped instantaneously, 180 degrees.
"Kelsey, look at that guy, Mr Army over there." You beckon towards John's direction, to your friend., slightly tipsy after a peg of beer.
Your friend looks at you with a raised eyebrow, then turns to the guy whose piqued your interest, "You should go for it." She encourages you.
So you get yourself 2 drinks and approach the guy, more confident that usual due to your alcoholic state. A beer would do.
"Hi, this seat empty?" You smile at him innocently.
All this time you had recalled a look of fondness towards you, when he'd first locked eyes with you. You remember bragging about how it had been love at first sight for the both of you, but thinking back, a feeling of doubt starts bubbling inside you.
"It's reserve- you know what. Take a seat."
You remember sitting next to him, passing him a drink, and telling him your name, "...and you are?" you question, although you see him wincing. At first you thought it was just an army thing, so guarded that even the slightest of movements would make him twitch.
But now you're questioning whether he really wanted to engage into a conversation with you.
The following hours, as you painfully recall, was filled with you talking about yourself and occasionally asking him after his life, though he gives you one word answers and frequent nods.
But that was just because he'd just come home from a mission right?
"...and he just broke up with me out of the blue! Like was my 12,000 followers on TikTok not good enough for you?" You chuckle, attempting to crack a joke. He smiles confused, and you note he's probably too old to understand what TikTok was.
"Sounds like an asshole, love." He replies.
"Hmm, he was...I- I just don't know what he'd leave me for her...like I gave you my everything, I was always with you through thick and thin and what, that wasn't enough for you?" You trail off, the effects of the 2nd beer hitting you.
"I understand dove, you just give 'em everything and they just find someone else. What does he have that I don't?" He spaces out, his eyes falling on his teammates sitting at a different table. You follow his gaze, smiling slightly when you lock eyes with one of his smirking subordinates, whom you know know as Soap.
"Those people, they're your team?" You question.
His eyes aren't on you though as he responds, "That mohawk, that's Soap, Ghost next to him, tough as steel but soft at heart, Gaz on the opposite, funny lad, Roach, good ol' Roach..."
You look at the woman to the right of 'Roach', taking in her beauty. Though she's sitting down, you can tell she's taller that you by least 4 inches, with a blonde pixie haircut and painted with a dark smokey eye. A deep smirk is plastered onto her plump ruby red lips as she looks at John Price finally talking to a woman that isn't her. She raises a hand, waving to the both of you, which is almost instantaneously reciprocated by John.
"And her?" You ask, head nudging towards the woman.
"Her...That's Rose. You should meet her, you would like her, but who doesn't..." His chuckle fades out and you at how his attention was fully directed to her. A sinking feeling told you that you should have backed off from the married man, but it disappeared when John pointed out her partner, with gritted teeth.
Your hands are gripping the pages at this point, as you recall memories from the diary from his point of view.
You turn the page to the next entry, dreading the words.
19th December 2020
Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.
Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub, I'm once again unfamiliar with the lingo, I'm not Simon?? She's nice but, not sure I see anything further than a friendship. Gaz and him are picking out an outfit for me, she wants to meet up for bowling apparently. I just want to be with Rose...
Clenching your fist, you shut the diary and toss it aside, feeling all kinds of emotions. Upset that John had never truly looked at you the way you'd looked at him. The way he never wanted you, like you wanted him.
Every time you'd seen him online on Whatsapp, but still hadn't opened your messages, he was ghosting you? Sure after a while of being friends, his behaviour gradually changed, accompanied with rapid texts, but you felt like this relationship was built on lies.
Did he even want to go bowling with you that day? Did you win because he purposely let you, because he was bored and wanted to go home, be with Rose instead? When he asked you to be his girlfriend, did he ask you with Rose in mind?
The ding of the oven stopped your trail of thoughts, so many questions swirling around your head. You walk out of the study, slamming the door behind you, the combined mess of dust and cobwebs remaining untouched.
The glass name plate falls to the ground, the edge shattering, with shards of clear glass laying dangerously on the wooden floor.
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A couple of hours go by and the doorknob rattles at 8:45 P.M. on the dot. John was never late when he had to come home to you.
He reaches base at 7:30, drives exacting an hour to your shared home, after making a quick pit stop at the florists within 10 minutes to give you a freshly scented bouquet of red roses.
Roses. So that's why he'd give them you every time...
He makes sure to leave him 5 minutes of spare time, which was designated to flipping open a small metal notebook you'd gifted him, and writing his thoughts down. And once those 5 minutes were up, he places the notepad back into his jacket pocket and practically runs towards the front door.
"Dove, I'm home!" He exclaimed, gently placing his belonging on the floor, before walking into the living floor, where you sat on the sofa with your legs and arms crossed. (MY BITCH POSE IS NASTY)
"Sweetheart, you didn't run up to me at the door, you alright love?" He sits next to you, his calloused and freshly bruised arms rubbing your knee.
The silence was deafening and you couldn't find it in yourself to look at him after all you've read.
He takes it as a cue to continue, "I got you some roses, baby. Your favourite-"
"When did I say they were my favourite?"
John blinks at the interruption, "I mean, you don't like them? It's tradition to bring the same red roses for you every time I'm back..."
"And when did I say I liked them? Are they my favourite? Or are they her favourite?" You shift towards him, anger evident in your voice.
"Her? Who? Sweetheart, what's going on?"
"I mean, come on man, you like floral shit that much that now you're making me wear it?"
"You...don't like floral scents? Did you want tulips instead, baby?"
Your eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance by his confusion.
"It doesn't matter if I wanted tulips, John, it's the fact that YOU like roses. In fact you've like Roses this entire time! Don't act like you like tulips 'cos you don't- to be honest I don't think you ever have!" You rant, handing running through your hair.
"I mean I like both honey, roses are just, um, prettier?" He sounds like he's asking you rather than telling you.
"Of course roses are prettier to you- that's all that you're fucking used to you. It's always roses, roses, roses. You're so obsessed with fucking roses, you never gave tulips a bloody chance!"
"Are we still talking about flowers-"
"And when you do give tulips a chance, you're still thinking about roses- how red they are, how pretty they are, how they need to be watered every 5 fucking minutes, even then there's already someone to water those damn. Red. Roses."
"I- I mean I like tulips too, baby-"
"No. You don't. No, you don't. Tulips are just the safest options for you, cos someone already plucked out those fucking roses. Cos roses don't want you."
You're standing up now, and John's attempts to speak are futile with every sentence you shout.
"No. In fact, roses has never wanted you, roses look better with someone else, and ol' poor John has no more roses, so he goes and waters some unwanted tulips instead!"
John stands up, towering over your shaking frame, his hands come up to stroke your biceps, but he's pushed away.
"I mean, did John ever even like tulips? Or was he faking it cos he never got roses? Was tulips just the safe option? Does John still want roses after all the years tulips have been there for him?"
You left out a pained cry, you didn't even notice the tears leaking out of your eyes.
"Does John even like tulips? Does John even love tulips?"
His hands wipe your tears away, and he brings you into his chest, and you don't attempt to push him away this time.
"Does you even love me, John?" You break down into his arms, letting him carrying you into the bedroom, where he places you gently on the bed, while you hiccup through your uneven sobs. He smells the stench of wine through your shaking breath, whilst stroking your hair, and you slowly fall into a deep slumber with your head pressed against his still uniform-clad chest.
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The clock hits midnight and John gets up, trying not to wake you up, grabbing his sweats from the drawer and walking to the bathroom across the hall, in order to not wake you up, from what looked like a well-needed rest.
As he trudges out of the bedroom and through the corridor, the reflection of the broken glass catches his eyes and he squints in the darkness, squatting down to pick a small shard. As he lifts the remains of the nameplate, hooking it back to the door, he steps over the mess into the study to retrieve a dust pan and brush.
Flicking the lights on, he's met with what looks like a scene from the reality TV show - Hoarders. So starts cleaning quickly, picking up the duster and bunching up the paperwork from the floor, the pot of pens that had seemed to be knocked down, the diary he'd used to write in...hold on-
Picking up the diary, John flicks through the entries, the book naturally opening to the last open slide.
He begins reading the last entry.
19th December 2020
Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.
Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub....
"Oh...my tulip, I've never loved roses as much as I loved you." He mumbles to himself, whilst simultaneously cringing at his previously written words, immediately throwing the book back on the floor.
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It's past breakfast when you wake up, throat and eyes painfully dry from last night's crying session, forcing yourself to drag yourself to the bathroom. You've forgotten that John had come home last night, as your met with a familiar empty bed.
After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you walk downstairs, being face to face with the naked back of Captain John Price.
The smell of chocolate pancakes waft towards your nose, as you look around the kitchen, the room garnished with a variety of different flowered bouquets, with so many variations of plants.
Bundles of dahlias and lotuses, orchids and lilies, carnations and irises, roses and tulips.
John turns to your footsteps, smiling at his perfect woman.
"Baby, good mornin'" He greets you, placing a single rose into your hair, and pecking your forehead warmly.
"John, listen about last night-"
"It was the old diary, wasn't it?" he asks.
You nod, ashamed for your abrupt behaviour yesterday. John lifts your chin up, resting his forehead against yours.
"Rose never taught me how to love like you did."
"John, you don-" His pointer finger is pressed against your lips.
"Reading those words from the past, I can see how it may have painted a different picture of my feelings. But let me assure you, my love, that you are the one I adore with all my heart."
Your stroke his face, heart warming to his words.
"Every rose I brought home was a symbol of my love for you, not because it was her favorite, but because it reminded me of the beauty and grace that you bring into my life. And those tulips, they represent the new beginnings and the fresh start that we share together.
My love for you is unwavering and unconditional. You are my tulip, my true love, and I vow to cherish and adore you for all eternity. Please forgive me for any pain or doubt my past words may have caused."
"John..."
He hands you his notepad from from his back pocket, beckoning you to open it.
You look at the first entry.
19th February 2021
I mentioned how I journal sometimes to her, and she bought me a new notepad, it's cute how she calls it a diary. Things are looking good. Bowling's our thing, I let her win because seeing her smile means I've won too. I'm asking her out tonight, Soap cried real tears when I told him.
You turn the page.
20th July 2021
Our 6 month anniversary. Took her to a field of roses and tulips, though nothing compares to her beauty.
The next one.
17th September 2021
I seldom think of Rose, I have my tulip on my mind now. Rose retired, and the team celebrated last night. She hugged me and thanked me for being a good captain. She also acknowledged my previous feelings for her. Man that was uncomfortable, but I reassured her I'm with my tulip now. I love my tulip.
I've always preferred tulips anyway.
And the next.
5th July 2022
Our 500 day anniversary. I want to propose.
17th September 2022
She said yes!! She may be my fiance, but I've already started calling her my wife, not legally yet at least...illegally?
28rd December 2023
We married 30th November. The day we met. Xmas was amazing, I can't see myself with anyone but her. I'm getting deployed tomorrow though.
You look at the most recent entry, dated last night.
16th February 2024
Missed the valentines day with my missus. Hope these roses are enough, though I wanted to get something better. Tulips for my tulip. They ran out haha. Missed my girl, missed her like I've never missed someone before. Soap's right, deployment suck.
Tears welled up in your eyes, not from pain or doubt this time, but from overwhelming joy and love for the man standing before you.
"I'm sorry, John," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't mean to doubt your love."
He smiled, a genuine and heartfelt smile that reached his eyes, pulling you into a warm embrace. "No need for apologies, my tulip. Thank you for teaching me how to love."
And in that moment, amidst the scent of chocolate pancakes and fresh flowers, it felt like you love story was just beginning, filled with trust, forgiveness, and a deep, unwavering love for each other.
That should not have taken me 2 days to complete what in the world. Also if i was tulip, that old diary is going straight into a fire! Barbecue anyone? <3 Quick Notes: I head-cannoned Rose to look like Sergeant Calhoun from Fix-it-Felix lolololol woman crush fr i get u john boy I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months
Text
Prematch
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Jessie Fleming x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: The prematch routine
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One day, before a match at home, Morsa gets up early to go to the market. She takes you with her because she woke up to you staring at her from your spot in the middle of the Big Bed.
Magda's not even sure how you snuck in without her noticing but it's enough to get you dressed and out the door before you can wake Pernille.
The market only really happens once a month so Magda always makes time to visit as she picks up various items that she can hoard until the next time it comes around.
You get a bit distracted by the crochet bees at one of the stalls and she has to hold your hand tightly to pull you away to the stall with all the flowers.
"Good morning, Magda," The old woman behind the table says, dipping her head in greeting.
"Morning." Magda pokes around at a few of bouquets.
It's a little embarrassing, she thinks, that she's here so often that the woman running the stall knows her name.
"And who is this delightful little lady?"
Magda rests a hand on your shoulder proudly. "My daughter, y/n."
"Oh, she's beautiful," The lady says with a coo and your cheeks go a little red and you duck to hide behind Magda's legs. "What were you thinking of today?"
"Roses," Magda replies," Pernille's still in bed so we're going to surprise her."
"Wonderful choice."
The woman picks up several deep red roses and spins them together as you watch.
"Morsa," You say," Why are we getting flowers for Momma?"
"Well," Morsa replies," When we really like someone, we give them flowers to show our affection. I really love your Momma so I want to get her some flowers to remind her."
That makes you think for a moment, brow furrowed as you ponder. "Morsa," You say eventually," Do only girlfriends give each other flowers? Or do friends do it too?"
"You can give flowers to friends. We got sent a lot of flowers when you were born."
You don't remember that because you were very little then but you believe Morsa. You tug at her shirt.
"Can I give Jessie flowers? Because she's one of my bestest friends and I want her to know."
"Well, princesse-"
"Here you are, Magda."
Morsa has to stop talking to grab the flowers and pay.
You huff a little, scuffing your shoes in the dirt at the non-response.
"And for the little lady to give to her friend."
You look up to see the woman smiling down at you, holding a second bouquet of flowers to you.
"Thank you," You say as you take them.
"Now," The woman says," These flowers here are yellow roses and they mean friendship and happiness. The pink ones a tulips. Now pink tulips are for affection and good wishes. Perfect for a friend."
"Thank you," You say again, adjusting your grip so you're holding them more carefully.
"No need to pay for those ones," The woman waves off Morsa's attempts," You just make sure the little lady gives them to her friend."
You make Morsa walk carefully back to the house to make sure that Jessie's flowers don't get crumpled. You think that annoys her a little bit but she's very nice about it even if it means Momma's already awake when you get back.
She takes the flowers from Morsa and accepts the soft kisses she's given.
"These ones are for Jessie," You say when she asks," We have to be careful with them, okay? Because they're special flowers just for her."
"Okay, princesse," Momma laughs," We'll be careful."
You remind Morsa how careful she has to be in the car when she goes a bit faster than you'd like and then when she holds the flowers a bit too tight when Momma's helping you out.
The silly social media man is waiting outside for you.
You give him a weird look as he holds something out for you. You take it, turning it over in your hand.
"It's a camera," He says.
"Why?"
"Well, we thought it would be fun if the fans got to see everything from your view."
You lift the camera up to your eye for a moment before smooshing it towards the flowers. "I'm giving flowers to Jessie," You say," Because she's my friend." You look at the social media man. "Like that?"
He nods with a laugh. "The others are out on the pitch if you want to join them."
You look at Momma and Morsa.
"Go on," Momma says.
You scamper off with your flowers and the camera.
"Niamh!" You exclaim when you fast walk down the tunnel and spot the older girl.
She's walking with Zećira and they both turn to look at you. You're not quite running because you don't want to ruin the flowers but you're moving quickly.
"What's that you've got there?" Niamh asks.
"A camera," You say, turning it so it can capture Niamh and Zećira.
Zećira laughs. "I think she means the flowers."
"Oh! They're for Jessie! Morsa got Momma flowers at the market this morning so I got some for Jessie."
Niamh's laughing now too and she leans down to look into the camera.
"Well, as you can all see, love is in the air at Chelsea."
That makes you frown. "What does that mean? Momma and Morsa are still inside."
"Don't worry about it. Here, I'll take the camera and then everyone can see Jessie getting her flowers."
"Okay!"
You move a bit quicker now that you can use both hands to hold your gift safely. Jessie's a little bit up ahead with her headphones in and you reach to tug her hand.
She smiles down at you and gives you a hug.
"Those are pretty flowers. Did Magda and Pernille get them for you?"
You shake your head. "I got them for you." You puff out your chest. "The market lady said they're for friendship and affection. We're friends and we hug. Hugging is affection, Momma says so."
You lift the flowers up to her.
Jessie looks a little caught of guard and you can hear snickering from Niamh and Zećira behind you. You don't pay them any attention though as Jessie takes the flowers and gives you a little kiss on the cheek.
You take one of her hands and receive the camera back in your other one.
Instantly, you're back to talking to it.
"You have to walk the pitch to make sure it's good," You say," But Niamh is always very silly. My Morsa says she only comes out here to socialise and so she can avoid being told what to do."
"Hey!"
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xxblairexxss · 9 months
Text
Pick me up (Part 1)
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader
Theme : Fluff
Charles got a call from Monaco prison and he wished you took it more seriously.
I had this in my draft for quite a while so I guess I should share it with you guys because I think it’s adorable!
✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne
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“Is it recording?” You took a step back and accidentally hit your hind foot against the leg of the armchair. “Oh my god. Wait, let me sit first.” You plonked yourself on the mint coloured seat and brought your hair up to tie it into a messy bun.
The sound of a dial tone resounded from your phone. You had enabled the loud speaker once the call was connected to the number you had clicked. “I’m so nervous!” You covered your grin and whispered to the other phone that was propped up against your mirror and was recording, the time at the top end of the screen started calculating every seconds.
“Hello…?”
“Oh!” Your mouth formed an ‘O’ as you quickly pressed on the space button. “Hello, this is a collect call from the Remand Prison of Monaco for inmate Y/N Y/L/N.” Came on the text-to-speech voice from your laptop that you had set aside.
“What the heck?!” You heard Charles’s voice went louder into the phone as he cleared his throat after.
You clicked on a different tab and pressed on the spacebar key again. “Say yes if you would like to accept this call.”
“Yes, please.”
“Baby!” You cried out.
“Honey, what the fuck is going on?” You had a hard time to control your giggle hearing how tensed he was.
You sighed. “I–I don’t know!”
“What do you mean you don’t know?!”
“Can you come pick me up?” You faked a wept and quickly covered your mouth to bury your smile, as if he could see your face.
“How did you get arrested?” You could hear he was getting stressed and then came a soft sound of a door being closed. You were so sure he had segregated himself because his voice was louder this time.
You held your tongue, trying to make it looked as if you were having trouble to talk from heavy crying. “I told you I was going to go to Starbucks, right?”
“Yeah? And did you get possessed or something?”
“No! I found this cute mug and this old lady tried to steal it from my hand so I whacked her in the head.”
He breathed out and you knew he was trying to calm himself down so there was only silence in the air for a few seconds. “You….beat an old lady for a mug? Honey….” The tone of his voice changed from fretted to full of disappointment.
“She tried to steal it from me!” You replied, defending yourself.
“Didn’t give you a reason to smack her! What were you thinking? What— what am— are you okay, honey? Did they do anything to you?”
“No, but they made me wear this jail outfit. I don’t like it and it’s cold here.” You could barely took a breath when he replied to you straight away.
“The audacity of you to complain about that after you punched someone, Y/N. What am I supposed to do now? When can they release you? How many years?”
“They said you can come pick me up but you have to bring a pen because there’s some agreements you have to sign.” You answered. You had been silently giggling so you hoped the phone call didn’t pick up the sound of it.
“What agreement? Oh my god, how serious is this matter? What else should I bring?” He sounded like he was walking back and forth, probably from the agitation or he was indeed, looking for a pen.
“I don’t know! You need to come in 30 minutes or they won’t accept any appeal and you’ll have to wait for another month.” You pulled the phone away and winced when he howled in distress.
“Y/N! You should have told me earlier! Can you please take this seriously? We spent 10 minutes on the phone already. I’m coming.”
“Charles, wait!” He ended the call before you could say anything and convulsed with laughter, your body and shoulders shook from it. “I need to call him back before he literally go and pay the prison a visit. Bye!” You clicked on the red button on the screen of your phone and the video ended.
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itgetsdark-x · 2 months
Text
He Who Hides In the Shadows
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Summary: You loved Tommy Miller, of course you did; he was the perfect gentleman. He was kind, he was generous and he was easy on the eyes. It’s just… he wasn’t Joel Miller. Loosely based on the idea from a lovely anon ask (here).
Warnings: 18+, MDNI plssss!! Public sex, age gap (unspecified but Joel would be mid forties, reader in twenties), unprotected p in v (do better & wrap it), mild degrading, use of ‘daddy’, breeding kink (ish), mentions of voyeurism, cheating, dark!Joel themes.
Characters: Joel Miller x (f) reader, mentions of Tommy Miller x (f) reader
Word Count: 5.8k
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Life in Jackson was good, well, as good as life could be given the state of the world; it almost had a familiar sense of old times and a safeness you had craved for years. 
You first stumbled into the gates of Jackson around fourteen months ago, you had been shot in the thigh by a raider and had managed to stumble your way to safety; everyone was hesitant to allow you through and into their safe haven, and you understood it. 
The citizens were kind enough to tend to your wounds, dress them and feed you; you ate properly for the first time in months. You looked at your surroundings, the warm interior of the communal canteen as a kind woman explained the ways of living in Jackson. 
That’s where you saw him for the first time… he was tall, broad and so rugged; he had brown hair with soft white hairs peppered through the gentle locks and he had the most intense brown eyes, they were dark and so much pain swam in them that it made you want to reach out and hold him. He locked eyes with you and you felt as if your surroundings blurred together, all you could focus on was this nameless man. 
“Joel Miller.” The lady sat opposite of you announced. “He’s… a troubled man, older brother of Tommy Miller.” She informed you with a soft smile. 
“Oh, I, I wasn’t staring.” You mumbled as you shovelled food into your mouth quickly, returning your gaze back to your plate of food. 
“It’s okay, hon, a lot of women tend to stare at the Miller brothers. Just human nature, some things never change, even during the apocalypse.” She laughed. 
You made a small noise, it sounded alien to you and then you realised it was a laugh; it wasn’t a noise you had made in years. 
“Anyway, I’ve got you a small one bedroom house on one of the quieter streets; it’s been unoccupied for a few years but should be fine, the water runs hot and there’s electricity too. I’m on the next street over so please feel free to come over and spend some time with me and Jacob, my husband. My name is Lara.” She pushed another plate of food over to you and you looked up at her with thankful eyes. 
“This place is fucking amazing.” You cursed, tucking into the next lot of food. “I mean, sorry. Thank you, y’all have been so nice to me already.” 
“I understand, we are definitely blessed in this community.” She smiled, watching you eat up the food before you. “Anyway, hon, I should get going. I’ve got a shift to work in the kitchen, ready for the evening rush. If you need anything at all, you come and find me. Don’t worry about helping out just yet, you heal up and get yourself right.”
“Thank you.” You smiled, the gesture felt foreign, you had spent so many months alone that you couldn’t even recognise what it felt like to feel a small glimmer of hope and joy. 
Lara left you in peace, she squeezed your shoulder before she walked off. You looked around at your surroundings once again, Joel was no longer stood in his previous place but instead he was sat at a table opposite yours, next to him was another handsome male. You could notice the similarities between the two of them but this younger male was much softer in appearance, his features weren’t hardened by pain and roughness. 
The younger of the Miller men caught your gaze, he smirked at you, noticing your blushing cheeks and within seconds he was closing the distance between you both. 
“Well aren’t you pretty, not seen you around here before. I’m Tommy Miller, pleasure to meet you.” He said softly, outstretching his hand to shake yours. 
You shook his hand and introduced yourself by your name.
“I’m sure I’ll be seeing a lot more of you around here, darlin’.” He said before tipping his hat and going back to sit with his brother. 
The rest, they say, is history. Your relationship with Tommy had been a whirlwind, you kept finding reasons to bump into the younger Miller and eventually, he got the hint and asked you out on a date. You and Tommy had been together for about a year now and it felt like a dream. 
You were in a domesticated bliss, you lived with him in his house that he shared with Joel but you didn’t have much involvement with the older Miller male. He kept his distance and things between you always felt icy; you understood why, he had been through so much loss in his life and Tommy assured you he was the same with everyone, which was somewhat true. 
-
You were stood in the kitchen, washing dishes from the day before, humming to yourself when you heard the door click open from the front of the house. You assumed it was Tommy, back home after his shift patrolling. 
“Hi honey, I’m just doing dishes. I was thinking maybe we could spend a little time together before Joel gets home; I’m pretty sure I’m ovulating, this is gonna be our month. I can feel it.” You giggled, wiping your hands on a dish towel as you walked through the kitchen, you stopped dead in your tracks when you were greeted with the sight of a sweaty Joel. 
He looked at you with a raised brow before he kicked his boots off.
“Well, there’s an offer.” He laughed dryly, his lustful eyes drinking in your body. 
You pulled your arms around yourself awkwardly and cleared your throat. 
“I obviously thought you were Tommy.” You huffed.
“Obviously.” He smirked. “‘M gonna go take a shower and head out for the evening anyway.” He shrugged and with that, he stomped up the creaking staircase to the bathroom. 
You rolled your eyes as Joel disappeared upstairs. You and Tommy had been trying for a baby for a few months now, you knew it was relatively soon into your relationship but when the world made no sense anymore, this made perfect sense to you both. You loved him so much and he loved you just the same, it made sense that you wanted to create your own little bundle of joy to share your love with.  
You finished up the dishes and wandered upstairs to lie down for a while and wait for Tommy to return home. You passed by the unoccupied bathroom and found yourself standing outside of Joel’s bedroom, you lingered by it for a second; you were unsure what you were waiting for but you couldn’t seem to pull yourself away from the spot. 
His door was cracked open and something inside of you told you to look in. You sucked in a deep breath and your hands shook by your sides as you watched on. Joel’s back was turned to you, he was naked and although you couldn’t see his front, you knew what he was doing; his shoulder jerked rhythmically and you could hear his soft grunts as his arm sped up. You swallowed down the gasp you were holding in, you knew you should turn away and leave him in peace but you couldn’t help but continue to stare on. 
Your heartbeat threatened to burst right out of your chest, you could feel your blood thrumming through your veins as adrenaline coursed through every inch of you.
Joel grunted softly as he fucked his fist, he knew he was close to cumming and he tried to stay quiet but he couldn’t. He groaned out and then it happened, your name came rumbling out of his mouth like a forbidden curse. 
You went to walk away but the floorboards beneath your feet betrayed you, a loud creak erupted the silence and you stood there like a deer in headlights, your eyes were panicked and wide. Joel turned to face the door; his chest was heaving and you could see him now, his hard cock glistening with beads of precum as his fist held the base. Your mouth fell agape, wrapped around his member was a pair of your panties; it was evident to see, there was no mistaking the stolen garment belonged to you. 
Joel smirked at you, his cock jumped with arousal and he continued to stroke himself, only this time, his eyes were locked with yours as you gently nudged the door open a little more. He pumped himself roughly and brought a single finger up to his lips to shush you from speaking before he grunted loudly and spilled his hot seed all over your stolen panties. 
You were ripped from your trance when you heard the front door unlock once again, and you knew for sure this time that it was your boyfriend returning home. 
You walked away, your cheeks were burning and you felt ashamed. Why? Why did you feel ashamed? Joel was the one who stole your underwear and used it as ammunition to jerk off. It was confusing to you, Joel always seemed so distant with you, so cold and you just assumed he hated you, like he hated most people. 
“Hi baby!” You smiled, greeting your boyfriend at the door. 
“Hi honey.” He smiled back, he went down to undo his boots but you were on him in a flash. 
You pressed his body against the front door roughly and pressed your lips to his to capture him in a deep kiss, your hands snuck under his shirt and started to peel the layer of clothing off of him. 
“Hm, what’s got into you?” He chuckled lowly, lifting his arms so you could take his top layers off. 
“Ovulating,” you mumbled against his lips, deepening the kiss again as your fingers lightly scratched down his torso. “And you drive me crazy, need you.” You whispered. 
You wrapped your hand around his wrist and lead him to your bedroom without further distractions. That night, as Tommy made love to you, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the older Miller brother and what you had seen. 
That eventful day was three weeks ago, since that moment you had noticed the tension between you and Joel had become so thick and unbearable that anytime you shared a space with the male, you struggled to suck in a breath. You felt guilty for having watched him, you felt even guiltier that it made your panties wetter than they had ever gotten with Tommy and that night, you orgasmed to the thought of Joel. 
You knew you should have been disgusted and you should have ratted the older male out to his brother but anytime you tried to bring it up, the words died slowly in your mouth and never escaped. You pushed those thoughts deep down and swore to never mention it, you didn’t want to upset Tommy. 
Instead, you avoided Joel like the plague, anytime he was coming back from patrols or a shift, you would find any reason possible to leave the room and make yourself busy. Tommy hadn’t really noticed it, you disguised your discomfort well; you would leave to make dinner, to wash dishes or go and see Lara, your friend; it all seemed fairly normal but Joel knew and it only seemed to make him more persistent in his attempts to be in the same room as you. 
The sun was setting over Jackson, Tommy was on a night patrol, your least favourite and you were at home, alone. Well, besides Joel. 
As the evening ticked on; you had done everything you possibly could to avoid the older Miller brother until it was time for you to go to sleep, or at least retire to your bedroom for the evening. 
You had scrubbed the kitchen clean, made food for when Tommy would come in during the early hours of the next morning, scrubbed his work clothes clean and hung them up in the kitchen to dry in front of the stove. 
You had a brief shower and finally, you were able to sink into the warm comfort of your bed. Your door was pushed to, barely left open by a crack and you let your eyes drift closed, patiently waiting for sleep to overcome you. 
Time seemed to move impossibly slow, it felt like you had been laid there for hours, waiting for sleep to take you but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get comfy, you couldn’t get your temperature right and sleep didn’t feel like it was ever going to happen for you. 
You huffed loudly and threw the covers off of you, letting your arms drop either side of you in frustration as he huffed again before your mind started to wander. 
Soon, before you could stop it, thoughts of Joel fucking his fist were filling your mind and you felt yourself get slicker. You chewed on your bottom lip as you contemplated your next moves; Tommy wasn’t going to be home for hours to satisfy you and sometimes you did fall asleep quickly after masturbating. It didn’t help that you were ovulating again, which meant you were more horny than normal. 
You let you fingers slide under Tommy’s oversized t-shirt just so they could trail over your panties; you shivered at your own touch and without any more messing around, you dipped your fingers between your wet folds and started to circle your swollen clit. The immediate relief was like a wave crashing over you intensely and you gasped as your back arched up when your fingers sped up. 
Joel heard your bed creak, the problem with these houses in Jackson is that they were old and poorly made; the walls were thin and the floorboards creaked, not to mention a lot of the handcrafted furniture or hand-me-down’s. 
He crept out of his own room to check if you were okay, he reached yours and Tommy’s bedroom door and through the crack, he could see your body glowing in the low light of the moon seeping through the threadbare curtains. 
There you were, arching up and he could see your nimble fingers pleasuring yourself. It was his own perfect picture of sin waiting for him to take. 
Joel couldn’t help the way his cock twitched with interest in his jeans; you were everything he wanted but couldn’t take. Ever since he laid eyes on you, the first day you arrived in Jackson, he knew he had to have you and since then, his dark obsession only grew. 
And the fact you were with his brother? It only drove him madder and made him want you even more. 
“Oh, yeah, fuck. Just like that, daddy.” You whimpered quietly as your fingers dipped lower to sink into your hole. 
You had never once called Tommy daddy, it was a nickname you had reserved for Joel in the darkest, deepest and dirtiest depths of your mind. That small, reserved section of your mind that Joel took up; even when Tommy would be fucking you, you felt your mind drift off to thoughts of him. Thoughts of his thick cock. His hot ropes of cum on your soiled panties. The way he locked eyes with you and didn’t think to stop. 
You felt the heat of shame swallow your body as your eyes screwed tightly shut, little flecks of white danced behind your eyelids as you came around your fingers; your mouth agape with pleasure. 
“Dirty fuckin’ girl.” Joel muttered, pushing your door open further and stepping into the dark room. 
“What the fuck!?” You screeched as you pulled your fingers from your panties and sat bolt upright to see the older Miller smirking at you. 
“My brother know you’re at home fucking yourself? Or is he not doing a good enough job and you’ve gotta satisfy yourself?” He cooed, stepping closer to your bed until he perched at the foot and stroked his hand up your foot. 
You kicked his hand away and folded your arms across the old fabric of Tommy’s t-shirt, trying to hide your hardened nipples. 
“I’m gonna say this one time, and one time only… fuck off, Joel. I’m with Tommy. End of. I love him. I don’t want you.” You all but spat, your voice sounding like pure venom as you spoke. 
“Oh. Feisty little girl. My brother got a fiery one. Good for him.” He smirked, his hand stroking further up your leg with each word. 
His hand finally reached your upper thigh and the breath in your throat caught shakily; you felt like you suddenly couldn’t breathe and every touch of his finger tips felt like multiple electric shocks to you. 
“Joel.” You warned. “I-I- I’m with Tommy, you need to l-leave?” Your voice was shaky, even with all good intentions you couldn’t help the way it sounded more like a question than a statement. 
“Hm?” He purred, his brow quirked as he pushed your thighs apart; he could see your inner thighs glistening in the cool glow from the moonlight, your arousal making your skin sticky. “Fuck.” He groaned. “So wet, this all for my brother? Hm?”
“Y-yes. Of course, who else would it be for?” You blushed. 
“I heard you call out daddy, you callin’ Tommy that? Something he don’t know yet? He gon’ finally be a daddy?” Joel’s fingers stroked so gently over your panties you weren’t even sure that he was actually touching you, yet you couldn’t stop yourself from shuddering. 
“No. No. He’s not — I mean, we’re not.” You mumbled, your breath shaking as you watching Joel’s dark eyes rake over you. Your arms were back by your sides and your fingers were clutching at the sheets below you. 
“That’s a shame.” He tutted, pressing one of his digits hard against the damp fabric of your panties. “You would look so sexy, all round and full. Fuck, you deserve to be bred the way you deserve.”
“Joel —“ you breathed, your eyes fluttering shut as his finger pressed against your sensitive clit. “We shouldn’t. I mean, we- we can’t, I’m with Tommy. Please don’t make this harder for me.” 
“Come on baby girl, let me show you just how much better I am than Tommy. How much better I could be for you. Better lover, better daddy.”
You gasped at his words, they had such a visceral effect on you; it was instantaneous, with each word you felt yourself practically dripping for him. 
“Fuck. Come here.” You whimpered, leaning forward to grab Joel’s shirt to crash your lips together. 
It was an aggressive clash of lips, teeth and tongues; within seconds, Joel’s tongue found its way into your mouth and was kissing you in a way you could have only dreamt of with Tommy. 
Joel’s hand found its way to your jawline and he gripped it tightly as he climbed onto the bed to lay next to you. His other hand found its way under your shirt to grope at your breasts.
Everything felt so familiar yet entirely different; Joel’s hands were larger, they were rougher and more calloused than Tommy’s. His touches felt more aggressive, more lustful and you couldn’t deny the way it drove you mad. 
Joel’s facial hair scratched at the soft skin of your face, again, in a way that was entirely different to Tommy; it was hotter, it was forbidden. 
“Waited to kiss you like this since day one. Fuck, you feel so good under me.” Joel groaned against your lips as his fingers toyed with the hardened buds of your nipples. 
You arched up to his rough fingers and instinctively spread your legs further for him, all shame seemed to dissipate with every grope from the older man. 
“Fuck, I need more. Please.” You whimpered. 
Joel took the hint quickly, he kissed down your neck and trailed his fingers down your sternum before he finally reached the waistband of your panties. Joel breathed deeply as his fingers finally dipped into the damp fabric, he didn’t mess around and immediately, his fingers found your clit without any fumbling around. 
Your eyes widened at Joel and he just smirked as he circled it expertly with his thick fingers. He ducked his head down and kissed you once more, his teeth nipped at your bottom lip as you whimpered underneath him. 
“Fuck.” You whined pathetically under Joel. “Fuck, daddy. Fuck.” 
The words spilled from your mouth, they were smothered against Joel’s mouth but he still heard them and he smirked once more. 
“Fuckin’ knew you thought about me. Filthy little girl, aren’t you? Look at you, all whored out and for who? Your boyfriend’s brother. Filthy little slut.” Joel cooed with deep condescension. 
You whimpered again, it was all you trusted yourself to do; you knew if you tried to talk, your words would die in your throat and would fail you immensely.
“Take that top off. Need to see your beautiful tits again, fuck. Think about them all the time. I watch you, y’know.” Joel whispered into your ear. “I watch you when you’re showering, watch the way you soap up your tits. Fuck have cum over that image so many times.” Joel admitted. 
You gasped at his confession, you knew you should have been disgusted by his words, by his actions but it only seemed to grow your attraction, your arousal for him further. 
You quickly sat up, legs still spread for Joel and whipped the T-shirt over your head; your tits bounced gently as you laid back down and Joel let out a near animalistic growl at the sight of you below him. 
“Need to taste your pussy. Fuck. Need to so bad. Can’t stop myself now.” He smirked and without another word, he was removing your panties and positioning his head between your messy thighs. 
He used his thumb and finger to spread the glistening pink of your pussy before he licked a fat stripe up through your folds, collecting your arousal on his tongue. He did it a couple of times before bringing his head back up to you. 
“Open.” He hissed at you. 
There was a momentary second of confusion before you obediently opened your mouth for Joel, your tongue hanging out in anticipation. Joel spat into your mouth slowly, a fat line of your arousal and Joel’s spit landed on your tongue and you swallowed it back eagerly. 
It was filthy; it was pure debauchery and you honestly thought you might have died and gone to heaven right there. 
“Oh fuck, that’s it. Such a good girl.” He praised and dipped his head down to suck your clit into his mouth. 
He suckled at the nub gently, the pressure sending thousands of shockwaves through your body at once. You shuddered with the pleasure and a soft whine fell from your lips. Joel’s nose nudged at your mound as his tongue flicked over your clit before he circled it and then went back to sucking at it; he repeated these motions in consecutive moments but would switch up what he would do next. Just to keep you on your toes. 
“Fuck. Daddy. I’m gonna cum.” You cried, tears pricking at your eyes from pure pleasure. 
Never had Tommy made you feel like this; your body was on fire, your skin was flushed and a slick layer of sweat settled all over your body. 
“Good girl. Cum for me. Fuckin’ soak my face. That’s it. Atta girl.” Joel praised between his pleasuring movements of his tongue. “Call me daddy again, driving me mad.” He hissed, spitting onto your clit before licking it back up with a flicking motion of his tongue. 
“Daddy!” You whined, your back arching off the bed like a possessed woman. “Oh my god!” You whined, the noise getting caught in your throat as your orgasm ripped through your entire body. 
You peered down as Joel licked you through your orgasm and you noticed the way his hips were grinding against the bed. This man was going to kill you off. He was so turned on by eating you out that he felt the need to hump at the bed like a horny mutt. 
“Jesus Christ.” You whimpered as Joel dragged a slow finger through your folds just to place a playful slap to your exposed pussy. 
“I prefer daddy.” Joel smirked, sitting back to remove his shirt and unbuckle his jeans. “How do you wanna take me, my good girl?”
Your head was swimming, it span with pleasure and you could barely think straight for more than two seconds. 
“I — um, you choose.” You whispered. 
“On all fours then, I know that’s how you like it the best. You always seem to cum the hardest when he fucks you like that.” Joel grinned, removing his clothes and standing at the edge of the bed, giving his thick cock a few testing strokes. 
You swallowed roughly, feeling as if there were razor blades sliding down. “You… you, you watched us fuck?” You asked dumbfounded, the words sounded bizarre as they bounced around the room. 
“Course I have, darlin’. Told you. I wanted you the moment I saw you. Just ‘cause you ain’t mine officially doesn’t mean I was gonna stop wanting you.” He spoke so calmly, like it was a totally normal thing to say. “And for the record, I know you ain’t ever cum that hard with Tommy, now you’ve got me thinking you fake it with him.”
“I do not.” You protested, your voice not convincing even to yourself. 
Joel raised a brow at you in question, his lips turned up at the corner with an air of a smirk. 
“Fine. Fucking fine. I’ve faked it a few times.” You admittedly quietly. 
“Atta girl, ain’t so hard to tell the truth now, is it?” He said smugly. “Now, get on your hands and knees, show me that pretty cunt before I destroy it. Good girls get rewarded and you’ve been real good for me, sweetheart.”
Silently, you positioned yourself for Joel; still unsure of why you were doing this; why you were potentially throwing away your great relationship and for what? A couple good orgasms. You were fucked. 
Joel tapped the thick head of his cock against your entrance and instinctively, you tried to push back onto him. 
“Tsk tsk tsk.” Joel cooed, slapping your clit with his hardened cock. “Not until I say so, baby girl. I’m in charge, I decide when you deserve my cock. Not sure you’re even gonna be able to take me. You look so tight and perfect.”
“Fuck, you’re such an ass. Such a tease. Please, I need it, Joel.” You whined petulantly. 
“Try again, sweetheart. Who am I?”
“Daddy.” You whispered. 
“And what do you want?” He beamed smugly. 
“Your cock, please, daddy. I want your cock so bad. Please.” You mewled. 
“Good.” Joel praised, he pressed his cock into your tight heat, so slowly that you felt every inch of the delicious stretch. “Good girl.” He sighed as he bottomed out in you. 
Under Joel, your fingers grasped at the sheets and your knuckles turned pale under the intense grip you had on them. He was big. Not just in length but he was girthy, thicker than Tommy was and you knew going forward, he wouldn’t be able to satisfy you in this way.
“You’re so fuckin’ tight. Clearly not been fucked in the proper way, so wet and tight for me.” Joel groaned, drawing his hips back slowly before thrusting forward slowly once again so you could feel every inch of him; every notch and vein of him. 
You nodded under him, your words failing you once again as pleasure swamped your body like an infection; it took over every one of your senses.
Joel’s fingers gripped tightly at your soft hips as he built a steady rhythm, with each thrust you could feel his cock head nudge at the spongy bundle of nerves deep inside of yourself. It was heady and intense, your fingers tingled as Joel fucked you roughly. 
His soft, slow thrusts from the start were long gone; he held you tighter as his hips snapped forward with force and pure fervour. 
“Daddy. Feels so good.” You whimpered under him, your tights swaying back and forth as he fucked you. “Want you to fill me up. Breed me, please. Fuck.” You pleaded. 
Joel couldn’t help the groan that rumbled from deep in his throat, it was a deep and masculine noise that shocked you. 
“Hm, want me to give you that baby you want so bad?” Joel asked, landing a harsh spank to your doughy ass cheek. “Want to feel my cum leaking out of you as you try to sleep? Hm? Want my cum to stick to your inner thighs ready for when Tommy’s home?” He spanked you again as he spoke and you nodded eagerly at him. “Bet you would, little fucking whore.”
“I am. I’m a filthy little whore. All for you though, daddy. Not for him.”
Joel buried his cock deep into you and snaked his hand around to your mouth. 
“Spit on them, slut.” He instructed abruptly. 
You collected some spit on your tongue before you spat onto Joel’s digits, ignoring the way it dripped onto the sheets below you. 
He took his spit-slicked fingers and placed them on the swollen nub of your clit, you gasped at the contact and Joel circled it perfect, the spit and your arousal making it easy for him to pass his fingers directly over the sensitive bundle. 
“I bet Tommy wouldn’t even be surprised if he came home and found some other man’s cum making you all messy and sticky; he knows you’re a filthy little whore, perfect little sinner.” He groaned, his fingers working faster to bring you closer to your orgasm. 
“I’m gonna cum again, Joel.” You whispered, his name falling off your lips with ease, like you said it all the time. 
“Sound so sexy when you say my name.” He cooed. “You want to cum on my cock? Hm? Wanna cum on it whilst I fill you with my hot seed. God, wanna breed this little cunt so bad. So hot and tight. Hope I get you pregnant.” He growled. 
Joel’s words, his fingers and his cock all worked in perfect unison to push you off the edge and fall into your second, intense orgasm; your head lulled forward into the crook of your elbow as you clenched around Joel’s still cock. You felt so full, so deliciously full and you wanted to stay like this forever. 
“Good girl. Now let me cum in this little cunt. You ready for that?” He asked softly, brushing some hair away from your shoulder before he placed a soft, tender kiss to the skin of your back. 
It was a stark contrast to the way he had just been treating you and it made your stomach flutter with adoration for the older male. 
You nodded, it was all Joel needed and he went back to gripping your hips with an intense tightness. He pulled his cock all the way out before he snapped forward again; his thrusts were rough and short, you could tell he was just rutting himself to his own greedy high. All you could do was whimper and moan underneath him, taking everything he had to offer. 
“I know baby. I know. It’s okay. Almost there. Such a good girl.” Joel mumbled, his thumbs smoothing over your skin as he fucked into you feverishly. 
You whined under the male as his hips stalled and stuttered, and then, suddenly you felt the hot ropes of his cum coat your insides. Joel’s thick cock twitched inside of you and for a second, you felt even fuller than before as his seed filled you. 
Joel stayed like that for a second, only moving his hips with slow, sloppy thrusts; the obscene squelching noises of your arousals filled the silent room and you whimpered pathetically. 
He slowly pulled out of you with a hiss, his cock fell and he collapsed onto the bed. You winced as you moved to lay next to the male, you knew you were going to be feeling sore for the next couple of days but you liked it, it would serve as a real reminder than this actually happened and wasn’t the result of a heavy night of drinking or a weird fever dream. 
“Fuck.” You muttered, leaning up on your elbows to suck in a few deep and shaky breaths. “What the fuck have I done? What the fuck did you do?” You hissed, collapsing back onto the bed with a soft sob; the lust clearing from the room as the grim reality settled around you. 
“Gave you what you’ve been wanting, sweetheart. It’s okay.” Joel offered up softly. 
“Joel…” you whispered. “I’m - I’m ovulating and you just came right inside of me. Oh my fucking god. I’m dead. Tommy is gonna kill me. Tommy is gonna kill you.” 
“Tommy won’t know. Just make sure you have sex with him in the next couple of days and you’ll be golden. And well, if it happens. It happens. Uncle Joel at your service. If it doesn’t, we’ll try again next month.” He teased, with his forearm draped over his eyes. 
“You’re not fucking funny.” You yelled. “Get out Joel, you’re fucked in the head. Get out.” You screamed, slapping his side and pushing the male off the bed. 
He got off the bed and held his arms up in surrender. 
“Okay, chill out. I’m gone. Tommy won’t know, I won’t say a word. And when you want this to happen again, you say the words and I’ll be right here for you, sweetheart.” He smirked as he bunched his clothes up into his arms. 
He picked up your discarded panties and left the room without another word.
You wrapped the duvet around your naked body and sobbed quietly to yourself; this whole situation was about to get real fucking messy. You laid there, tears staining your cheeks as you prayed that it wouldn’t happen as different scenarios played out in your mind like a horror movie.
You weren’t sure when you fell asleep but you awoke to the mattress dipping next to you and Tommy placed a kiss to your shoulder and stroked your side. 
“Hello baby,” he whispered, snuggling up behind you. “Smells like sex in here.” He said, with a soft chuckle. 
“That was me…” you muttered, still not daring to look your boyfriend in the eyes. “Got so damn horny I had to touch myself, I couldn’t wait for you to get home.” You lied and closed your eyes. 
“Now as exciting as that sounds, I’m so tired I don’t think I could even get it up if I tried. Tomorrow? I promise.” He laughed, kissing your shoulder again before he turned his back to you and fell asleep. 
You laid there for hours, watching your peaceful boyfriend sleeping; letting the guilt nibble away at every piece of you before you saw Joel leave for the morning patrols. He walked past your bedroom door, he lingered for a few seconds, looked at you with a smirk before he raised a finger to his lips in a shushing motion and winked at you. 
You bit on your bottom and squeezed your legs together; it shouldn’t turn you on but still, here you were, laid in bed with his brother as your core throbbed for Joel Miller. 
-
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460 notes · View notes
itsmarsss · 3 months
Text
cool. [Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader] (Diary of a Wimpy Kid)
(from the vault)
You start working as a babysitter for the Heffleys, but a certain someone seems to be bugging his parents to go out more often. Why?
Words: 6,164
Warnings: like one slight sexual/porn innuendo
[. . .]
"What do you mean someone to watch me?” Greg yelled, exhasperated.
Rodrick laughed out loud at the whole situation. “Wait is little Greg here getting a babysitter?”
“Yes, and she starts tomorrow night," their mom replied, matter-of-factly.
“Mom, I’m in seventh grade! I don’t need a babysitter!”
“We’d believe it if the last time we left the two of you alone you hadn’t directly disobeyed the only thing we told you not to do and thrown a party while we were gone," their dad explained.
“Wait. Mom. So I don’t have to watch him? Like ever again?”
“No but you should be ashamed of the reason why-”
“Hell yeah!”
“Rodrick-” He was already up the stairs on the way to his room. She sighed. 
“Mom you can’t do this to me. Do you know how bad it'll be if the guys in my grade find out you got me a babysitter?”
“They’re not gonna find out, sweetie.” She patted his head.
“And it’s not negotiable.”
“What your dad said.”
"Dad!”
“I’m sorry, kid! But if it makes you feel better, since Rodrick will be here and we’re getting a babysitter because we can’t leave the two of you alone, she’s teeechnically his babysitter too, right?”
“It doesn’t make me feel better.”
“I tried," he shrugged.
“Where are you two even going tomorrow?”
“We’re having dinner! " Susan exclaimed, excited to talk about it. "Alone, finally, because-”
“Wait couldn't she technically be Manny’s babysitter then?”
“Thank you for caring so much about what I had to say, son.” She sighed once again. “She’s not Manny’s babysitter because Manny’s gonna stay with your grandma.”
Greg huffed and made a point to be extremely loud when stumping upstairs to his room, immediately getting cornered by Rodrick. 
“So… a babysitter, huh? And I thought your seventh grade couldn’t get any worse.”
“D´you think it’ll be that bad?”
“Dude they probably got you an old lady who smells like a museum whos gonna make you eat soup at like five PM and sleep at seven.”
Greg widened his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows, worried at the thought of what his brother was making him imagine. “You think?”
“Yup. And I’m not even talking about the total humiliation it's gonna be if someone your age finds out.”
“Crap.”
“Good luck with that.” Rodrick was obviously enjoying the mere thought of the torture that was going to follow.
. . .
“A babysitter?” Rowley asked, rather loudly. Greg quickly put his hand over his best friend's mouth. 
“Dude! Can you be quiet?”
“Hmmph!” Rowley tried to protest.
Greg released his hand from over his mouth. “Sorry.”
“Why do I need to be quiet?”
“Because I don’t want anybody to know!”
“Why?”
“Because it’s embarrassing, Rowley!”
Rowley just shrugged. “I wouldn’t be embarrassed. A babysitter sounds fun! Maybe she’ll read you bedtime stories! And play board games with you!”
Greg just looked at him incredulously. “Just don’t say anything about this to anyone., okay?"
Rowley suddenly started to look really nervous. “You know I can’t lie…”
“It’s not lying! It’s just not mentioning it! No one’s gonna ask about it.”
“Okay. Fine.” He didn't seem that sure about it, but Greg knew he'd try his best.
. . .
You took in a sharp breath before knocking on the front door. It took no time for it to be sprung open, and you were greeted by a smiling Mrs. Heffley. You retributed the smile. 
“Hi Mrs. Heffley!”
“Hey, sweetie! How are you?” She asked as she ushered you into the house, startling you when she closed the door behind you as you walked in. 
“I’m alright! How about you guys? Your dress looks so pretty!”
“Oh my God, thank you! You know it’s been ages since I’ve worn a pretty dress to go out, you can’t trust three kids with a pretty dress, they're always gonna ruin it.”
“Oh God that must be hell,” you laughed along with her. “Where are you guys headed tonight?”
“Looking forward to having dinner in peace,” she laughed again. “Manny!” she yelled suddenly, startling you yet again.
A little boy walked in in his diapers, holding his pants up with both hands. 
“Manny can you just please put on your pants?” Mr. Heffley followed the kid around, frustratedly asking him for what you assumed must have been at leat a fourth time to put his pants on, judging by the tone in his voice and the sigh that accompanied it.
“No!”
“Manny!” Ms. Heffley yelled yet again. The kid did what he was supposed to.
“Um I didn’t- is Manny gonna be staying with me tonight?”
“No! No,” she laughed. “Don’t worry, we’re taking him to my mother’s house.”
“Oh, right. Okay.” You tried to let out how relieved you were. Little kids were a whole other level of difficult, specially at Manny's age.
“Darling are you ready?” Susan asked her husband.
“Yeah! Yeah.”
“Greg!” she yelled again.
“What?” The boy yelled back from his room upstairs. 
“Y/n’s here! Come say hi!”
“Who’s y/n?”
“Your babysitter!”
He came downstairs. Very slowly. “Mom I already-” He stopped.  “You’re not an old lady!"
“Gregory! We don't say that to people! What is that about?"
“I’m sorry! I meant- Rodrick told me my babysitter was gonna be an old lady who smelled like a museum."
"Of course he did," Mr. Heffley said, under his breath.
You pretended to smell yourself. “I think I might smell more like an art gallery maybe,” you joked.
“I’m so sorry about this."
“It’s fine, Mrs. Heffley! Don’t worry about it. Now you two go have some fun, alright? Come on."
“Yeah! Okay. Right. There’s money on the table, you can order whatever you want for dinner the kids will eat whatever. Just grab the money before Rodrick comes downstairs or he's gonna pocket it. If you need anything you can call, okay? Really, anything.”
“Don’t worry about it! I promise I’ll call if anything happens! But I think we’re just gonna stay and eat some food and watch some movies, right Greg?”
“Uh, yeah. I guess.”
“Please be nice, Greg. Oh and if Rodrick bothers you tell him I said he’ll be grounded if I hear he's not letting you work alright?"
“Sure thing! Thank you. Now go!” You joked, pretending to send them off.
. . .
You and Greg had both sat down on the couch in the living room.
“So. You’re not an old lady.”
“Nope.”
“Are you in high school?”
“Yes I am.”
“What grade are you in?"
“I’m a senior!”
“Oh. Rodrick’s a senior too.”
“Cool! I don’t think I’ve seen him around though.”
“Lucky.”
“Why’s that?”
“He makes my life hell!”
“Well don’t you make his life hell at least a tiny little bit?”
“Maybe a little bit.”
“That’s just your job.”
“Trust me no girls like him.”
“Whatever, Heffley. So what do you wanna do?”
“Can we play video games?”
“Depends on what you have.”
“Apocalypse of The Damned?”
“I have never heard of that in my entire life.”
“You’re gonna like it I swear!”
“Alright. But you have to bring me the money your mom left on the table, I’m gonna order us some pizza.”
“Deal!” He ran out to the kitchen, getting back with the money in no time.
. . .
“Hey I was thinking. Can my friend sleep over?” Greg asked, obviously having been preparing himself to do so for the past few minutes, while furiously hitting buttons on his controller as you scrolled through your phone, having gotten tired of playing at that point. 
“Um. Is your friend gonna give me any trouble?”
“No! You can- you can trust us.”
“Is he annoying?”
He seemed to take his time to think of an answer. “A little. But he’s pretty cool.”
“Fine, I’ll ask your mom.”
You clicked on Mrs. Heffley’s contact name. 
hi mrs heffley
how's the date going? im sorry to interrupt
You didn't even have the time to finish writing the next text before she was calling you. You picked it up.
“Is everything okay?” Susan asked, clearly worried.
“Oh, yes. Everything’s fine, you don't have to worry! I’m so sorry to interrupt your date, Greg wanted a friend to stay over and I just wanted to see if that’s okay with you.”
���Is it Rowley?”
“Sorry?”
“The friend, is it Rowley?”
“Is it Rowley?” You asked Greg, leaning away from the phone, to which he just nodded his head yes. “Yeah, Rowley.”
“Okay, of course he can! And don’t worry, I’ll pay you extra for it.”
“Oh, that’s really nice, thank you. Now you should go back to your date, I'm so sorry to bother.”
“No worries! Are you sure everything’s fine?”
“Yes! We ordered pizza and we’re playing video games right now. Everything under control.”
“And Rodrick?”
“Uh, I haven’t really seen him honestly. He definitely hasn’t left his room though.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Bye!” You hung up.
“So?”
“Yeah, call your friend. Ask him if he has any board games we can play!”
Greg did as you said, and, in about half an hour, a little boy with a yellow shirt with a dog on it stood at the door.
“Are you Greg’s babysitter?’
“Uh yeah, I am.”
“Cool!" He looked at Greg behind you. "You told me she was old!”
“Rowley!”
“What? You did!”
You laughed at the interaction and let them do their thing, only asking them to stay by the living room so you could keep an eye on them. You sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone again as you knew the pizza should be about to get there.
The doorbell rang in no time. You stood up to pay for it, grabbing the large-size pizza and tipping the delivery guy, who didn’t look very friendly at all. You brought it in. “Hey Greg can you go call your brother?”
“Yeah!”
He ran up the stairs, and you set the box down on the dining table, Rowley sitting down. Greg came back.
“He told me to bring it to him.”
“Why?"
"He just doesn't wanna come downstairs."
"You don't have to do it.”
“What? He’s gonna beat me up for it!”
“Not with me here. I got you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Chill out.”
. . .
“Hey you little asshole? I told you to bring my pizza!” A voice exclaimed from the second floor, and Greg muffled a quiet ‘shit’.
“Hey don’t say that!” You scolded Greg for swearing as a reflex.
“Hey? Are you not listening?” Rodrick was clearly close to the kitchen now. He walked through the door. “I said get me so-” he stopped dead on his tracks when he saw you.
“Who’s this?” He asked the boys.
“That’s Y/N,” Rowley said, through gulps.
"And I'm right here you know? You could just ask me who I am."
“Well who are you? And what are you doing�� here?” He leaned over the wall, in a poor attempt to look cool. You had to fight yourself tas not to laugh uncontrollably at the sight.
“Well I seem to be your babysitter for the night.”
“What?”
“Did you also expect an old lady? You know, that's a really common and really hurtful babysitter stereotype, you really should think about the things you say now.”
“Wha- huh- yeah- I’ll just-” He let out a weird laugh, and walked up to the table, grabbing himself a slice of pizza and stuffing it into his mouth, seemingly to shut himself up.
“Well we’re gonna watch a movie after we’re done eating. You wanna join?”
“Oh he’s not gonna-” Greg started talking, but Rodrick quickly interrupted him, almost choking on his food as he did so.
“Yeah! Yeah! What are we uh- what are we watching?”
“Zathura.”
“What the fuck is Zathura?”
“Don’t swear in front of them!”
“Sorry.”
Greg looked at Rowley like Rodrick had just gone insane. Did he just apologize?
You laughed. “I’m kidding. You guys don’t mind, do you?”
They both slowly nodded their head no. 
“Cool. As long as you don’t repeat it in front of your parents, alright? Don’t wanna get me in trouble.”
“We’re not five!"
“Well you do look like it,” Rodrick commented, and Greg stuck his tongue out at him.
. . .
“This movie doesn’t make any sense,” Rodrick commented, pointing at the screen.
“It’s not supposed to! It’s a kids movie about a magical board game,” you pointed out.
“Let me guess, did Rowley pick this one?”
“For your information, I did. You got a problem?”
“No.”
Rowley had, in fact, picked this one.
Greg and Rowley shared a look again. This was getting bizzarre.
The movie was over in about half an hour, and it was time for you to put Greg to sleep.
“But it’s so early!” The boy complained, and you laughed.
“I know, but you don’t have to sleep now, you just gotta go to bed! I can’t, like, force you to sleep.”
He let out an annoyed groan before agreeing and pulling Rowley with him by the wrist. “Fine.”
“I’ll be upstairs in a few!” You yelled out, and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes from dinner. It wasn’t really something Mrs. Heffley had explicitly asked you to do, but you had those extra minutes and wanted to get on her good side. 
What you didn’t expect was to come in to find Rodrick still standing there, startling himself when you walked in.
“Uh hey!” His voice was high-pitched, clearly not expecting to see you there so soon.
“Hey.” You wordlessly walked to the sink, starting with the dishes. And then he offered to help you, which didn’t fit the image you had of him at all.
“What?”
“I said do you want some help? I can dry them.”
“Uh sure. Thanks.”
He just nodded, grabbing a cloth. “So did you put them to sleep yet?”
“Yeah they’re supposed to call me when they’re ready. Then I’m pretty much done.”
“Are you leaving like right after?” Was he… disappointed?
“Well not right after, your mom still has to pay me.”
“Right. She paying you extra for the dishes?”
“No,” you laughed, “just wanna score some points. This job’s good money, you know? But don’t tell her I said that.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
You nodded, a little awkwardly. “So what’s the deal with the van?”
“What?”
“The huge white van parked right outside? I assume it’s not your mom’s.”
“Yeah.”
“Couldn’t you have picked a better color?”
“What?”
“You know something other than the classic creepy white van?”
He actually laughed. “I don’t think a creep would have ‘löded diper’ written on the door.”
“Maybe you’re just trying not to look too suspicious.”
“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” Was he… flirting? Well, that was… an attempt.
“What, are you inviting me? You know, I was taught not to get into creepy white vans with strangers.”
“We’re not strangers!” He held his hand up for you to shake, which you did. “I’m Rodrick.”
“Y/N.”
“So. Ho'wd you end up babysitting Greg out of all people?”
“I mean, your dad posted something about it in the newspaper and my mom told me about it. Some extra money, you know?”
“And you’re sure it’s worth it? I mean he’s a big pain in the ass.”
“Aren’t all brothers?”
“I’m not.”
“Right. You’re like a dictator to him!”
“No I’m not!”
“He was scared you were gonna beat him up if he didn’t bring you pizza.”
“He’s dumb. I wasn’t gonna beat him up that badly.”
You laughed. “Well, we’re done. Thank you for the help. You can go now if you wanna.”
“You sound like a mom.”
“Oh my god! Stop trying to make me sound old! I'm some granny cinderella who turns into an old lady who smells like a museum when midnight strikes," you teased him, and he scrunched up his nose in embarrassment.
"Right. He told you about that.”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry. To be fair, I never had a babysitter, you know? I just thought they were all old and boring.”
“Do you think I’m old and boring?” You joked.
He snorted. “No, you’re pretty.” His eyes widened, realizing what he’d just said. Way to go. “Not in that- well not that you’re not pretty, you are, but you know what I mean. You’re uh- you’re pretty compared to what I- expected?"
It was stupid, but you could feel yourself blush a little. Why was it that you always fell for the most absolute idiots? “So I’m pretty… compared to an old woman.”
“I think you should let me start over.”
“But-”
“Y/N!” You heard Greg yell from upstairs, and you left the kitchen to go see him, going up the stairs and entering his room.
“Okay, we ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you brush your teeth?”
“Yes!”
“Both of you?”
“Yup.”
“Okay I’ll believe you. But your mom told me you’re on thin ice.”
Greg rolled his eyes and both boys got on the bed. 
“Okay, goodnight. If you don’t sleep right away don’t make too much noise.”
“Are you coming over tomorrow?”
“Why, did you actually like me?”
“Just a little.”
You smiled. “Well no. But I think I might next week.”
“Cool! ‘Night, Y/N!” 
“‘Night!”. You closed the door behind you, and walked downstairs to wait for Mrs. and Mr. Heffley to return so you could go home. 
You stopped on the hallway to send your mom a quick text saying you were fine and should be leaving in a few before making your way to the living room.
To your surprise, Rodrick hadn’t gotten back to his room. Instead, he was laying on the couch, his entire body draped over it as he scrolled through his phone. He sat right up when he saw you. “Hey Y/N.”
“Hey. You not have anything to do?”
“I’m offended. But no I don’t.”
You laugh, sitting down beside him. “Okay. Well your parents must be on their way, so. Don’t have much to do either.”
“You wanna watch something?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Well a real movie.”
“Zathura’s a real movie! I like it!”
“You actually do?”
“Yes!”
“Whatever. Well an adult movie I mean.”
“Uh, an adult movie?”
“No! Not that kind!” He was blushing furiously and you found it hilarious. 
“Yeah whatever. What do you have?”
You ended up settling on a Marvel movie, but you barely had the time to start it before the doorbell rang, and you had to go get the door.
“Hey Y/N! I’m sorry we took so long, we had to go get Manny.”
“That’s fine! Rodrick and I were just about to watch a movie!”
“Rodrick came downstairs?” Mr. Heffley sounded genuinely surprised.
“Well you can finish it if you want!”
“Oh, no, I really should get going. We can finish it another time.”
“Oh well. Okay.” She put Manny down and grabbed her wallet, handing you your money. “Here, with the extra from Rowley. Hope they didn’t cause too much trouble.”
“Oh they were so cool! I was surprised.”
“Oh that’s great to hear! If they haven’t traumatized you too much we’d love to have you sit them again.”
“Oh definitely! Just give me a call.”
“Thank you, Y/N. Are you driving home?”
“Oh, no, I’m actually walking. I thought we’d be done a little earlier.”
“Oh that’s not good, we can take you-”
“I can take her!” Rodrick yelled, almost falling off of the couch in his eagerness. He stood up, walking toward you. His dad looked like he was short-circuiting.
“Are you sure?” His mom asked.
“Yeah! Come on, let’s go.” He walked quickly past the front door and into the white van.
“Sure. Bye Mrs. Heffley!”
“Bye sweetie! Tell me if he bothers you too much!”
You walked towards the van, getting in on the passenger’s seat. He turned the engine on in silence. There was an awkward atmosphere surrounding you, and you didn’t know why.
You cleared your throat. “So uh. Thanks for driving me.”
“Yeah it’s chill. Where do I turn?”
“Oh let me just- give me your phone.”
“What?”
“So I can put the address on the GPS?”
“Oh. Sure.” He handed it to you after unlocking it, and you did as you said. 
“Turn left in 200 feet,” the disembodied voice said, and he did.
“You don’t have to uh- do these things for me. You know, drive me home, help me with the dishes. It’s nice, but I’m not gonna tell on you if you don’t.”
“I know. I uh. I want to.”
“You wanna do the dishes?”
“I wanna help you.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Dunno.”
“Fine.”
You got home pretty quickly, as you didn’t live a long way from the Heffley residence, and got out of the car. 
“Thank you for driving me! Goodnight.”
“Yeah!” Rodrick yelled back, and waited for you to get in to drive off. There was a smile on your lips you couldn’t shake off, and you felt stupid for it. Was the weird wannabe rock band kid really having an effect on you?
. . .
On wednesday, you got a call from Ms. Heffley again. And then on friday, and saturday, and sunday. This could not be normal, right? But it was money, so you obviously wouldn’t refuse it. So you pulled up to the Heffley residence for the fifth time on sunday, knocking on the door as usual.
Greg opened it this time, greeting you with a confused expression. “You’re here again?”
“Miss me, kid?”
“Are they going out again?”
“Apparently.”
“Mom, Y/N’s here!”
“Oh hey sweetie! Thank you for coming!”
“No problem! Where are you off to today?”
“Well we’re going bowling. Rodrick found us these pamphlets at the mall and wouldn’t stop bugging us about trying it out, so we decided to give it a go.”
“Oh he did?” That was strange.
“And you seem to have things so under control! I can’t believe we’ve been going out so much!”
“Well I’m happy to hear it. When will you be back?”
“I’d say eleven if that’s not too late for you?”
“Oh definitely not! As long as Rodrick can drive me.”
“Oh that won’t be a problem. You ready, darling?” She asked her husband, who walked by holding Manny in one arm and a huge bag in the other. 
“Yeah.”
"Everything there?” Susan asked him, referring to the bag. She turned back to you. “Manny’s staying over at my mom’s for the first time today. Isn’t that exciting?”
“Yeah!" You exclaimed, not really getting all the excitement about it. You supposed you would if you were his mom. Right now you were just happy you didn’t have to watch over him too. Little kids were always more difficult. 
“Okay bye everyone!”
Greg and Rodrick were right behind you the moment you closed the door.
“Can we make pasta?’ Greg asked, and damn, the little dude must have had some sugar because he looked like he’d downed like three energy drinks at once.
“Well yeah. I make a killer pasta. Is Rowley coming today?”
“Yeah!”
“Cool.”
“Do you want help with the food?” Rodrick finally spoke up, and Greg looked at him like he was speaking Greek.
“Sure.”
“Are you okay?’ Greg couldn’t contain himself from asking him.
“What do you mean, assface?”
“Did you just offer to help with the food?”
“Yeah?”
“Who are you?”
“Oh shut it, dickhead.” You didn’t miss the nervous glance he gave you, clearly signaling something about you to Greg. And then Greg seemed to figure something out, his eyes going wide.
“Oh! Is that why you-” Rodrick looked alarmed, putting his hand against Greg’s mouth to keep him from talking, but he managed to get himself free. “Is that why you’ve been trying to get mom and dad to go out all week?”
“Hah. Don’t know what he’s talking about, pssht.” Rodrick laughed nervously.
“Uh sure. Well I’m already hungry so I’m thinking early dinner and then we can make dessert?”
“Yes!” Greg yelled.
“Okay but if we’re making the food you gotta set the table. Deal?” 
Greg groaned in annoyance, but agreed. “Fine.” He went on his way, and you and Rodrick made your own way to the kitchen.
“So,” you started, as you grabbed the pasta from the cabinet. “You’ve been trying to get your parents to go out all week.”
He looked everywhere but at you. “Uh, I don’t know what the kid’s on about.”
“Well, shame. Cause I was gonna thank you.”
“For what?”
“Well the more times a week I work the more money I get right?”
“Oh right. Right. So yeah you can thank me.”
“So you were setting them up to go out. Why?”
He shrugged, trying to seem cool. “Wanted to be alone.”
“You’re not alone now. You could be in your room. Or like out with your friends or whatever.”
“I didn’t anticipate that you’d actually be cool.”
“Oh you think I’m cool?”
“Yeah.” 
The water started to boil, and you threw the pasta in the pot, stirring it with a fork.
“Cool. You’re kinda cool too. You know when you’re not trying to be impressive.”
“I’m not trying to impress you!”
“I didn’t say you were trying to impress me .”
“Well I was.”
“You were.”
“Did it work?”
“Why’d you want to impress me?”
“Cause you’re cool. I wanted you to think I’m cool too.”
“Huh. Maybe I do.”
“Cool.”
“Y/N I’M DONE! I THINK ROWLEY’S HERE !” Greg’s voice came from the dining room.
“I didn’t hear the doorbell, are you sure?” You yelled back, walking past Rodrick to get the front door. Maybe you were too lost in the conversion to hear it, because the boy was standing right there when you opened it.
“Hey Y/N!” He said with a smile, greeting you with a hug, which was very on-brand for the kid. 
“Hey Rowley. You alright?”
“Yeah! I brought water balloons!”
“You did?”
“Well they’re not full of water yet so they’re just balloons but yeah.”
“Cool! You should tell Greg!”
“Will you play with us?”
“Oh I don’t know, I don’t have clothes I can get wet-”
“Well that’s not a problem!” Rodrick said, and you frowned in confusion. “You can borrow mine!”
“Oh I don-”
“C’mon, Y/N, you really gonna disappoint the boy?”
“Shut up. Fine, but you’re playing too.”
“Deal.”
“Yes!” Rowley exclaimed, before taking off, presumably to go find Greg.
“Well you wanna go up to my room?” Rodrick asked, apparently having otten some confidence from out of the blue, sporting a cocky smirk.
You laughed. “You wish. Just bring me a t-shirt.”
“Yeah. Someone’s gonna be looking like the number one Loded Diper fan out there.”
“If you bring me a white shirt I will beat you up!” You yelled, and he was already on his way upstairs. You took the past out of the pot, mixing it with the sauce you’d made, which was the easiest one you could find.
Rodrick was back as soon as you set the pot down on the table, handing you a gray shirt that , of course, had ‘loded diper’ written on it in terrible handwriting. 
“Thanks.” You draped the shirt over your shoulder and all of you ate in silence, apparently all stupidly hungry for some reason.
You were done pretty quickly, but made sure to get Greg and Rowley to promise to help with the dishes this time, since there were more.
“Okay! We’re gonna get changed!”
“Yeah me too!” You yelled back, making your way to the bathroom, changing into Rodrick’s gray shirt.
It didn’t hang as loose as you thought it would, and you laughed at the thought of Rodrick wearing a tight shirt for no reason. You supposed it was an old one he decided to turn into loded diper merch. Loded diper. What a stupid fucking name. You guessed it was fit. 
Someone knocked on the bathroom door. Rodrick. “You done? These kids are little demons, they talk so much!”
You laughed, unlocking the door and grabbing your own shirt before opening it. 
“Hello?” He looked wide-eyed, like his brain was malfunctioning, staring profusely at his shirt. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Fine. The shirt alright?”
“Yeah. A lot smaller than I expected. Does Rodrick Heffley wear crop tops?”
He shrugged, embarrassed. “Sometimes. That bad?”
“No.”
“Chicks dig the crop tops, you know.”
“Oh do they?”
“Don’t you?”
“I guess I’d have to see you in one to give an opinion.”
“Yeah that’s not happening any soon."
“Shame.”
“What?”
“I said let’s go.”
You barely had the time to walk into the front yard before Rodrick was hit on the face by a huge water balloon. You turned to see a terrified-looking Rowley at the other side. Rodrick gained his bearings again. 
“Oh you’re in, you little shit!” He seemed way too determined on winning this, but who were you to judge?
Him and Rowley occupied themselves with each other pretty much the whole time, as you did with Greg, until you got hit rather strongly in the back. You stopped what you were doing, which was aiming your next balloon at Greg, who was right in front of you, and turned around to see Rodrick laughing at you.
“Motherfucker-” you cursed yourself mentally for swearing in front of the kids, hoping they wouldn ‘t tell on you, and launched the balloon at him at full speed, it landing on his chest. 
“Hey!”
You played for about half an hour more until the sun set, and you decided it was best to get back inside. All three complained, and you laughed at the situation, because you supposed you did sort of sound like a mom when trying to convince them to get in, but they ended up listening.
“Okay what are we watching tonight?” You asked as you closed the front door behind you and dried your feet on the mat by the entrance.
“Oh can we watch a horror movie?” Greg asked.
“Nope, we know how that ends.”
“But we’ve changed!”
“It’s been less than a week!”
“People change!” Greg tried to plead, but you knew Mrs. Heffley wouldn’t like it if you caved in.
“No can do, Gregory. We can watch that Adam Sandler movie you wanted though.”
“With the little kid?”
“Yeah.”
“Fine.”
You were halfway through a second movie when the boys decided it was time for dessert, and you still had a little while before the Heffleys came back, so you decided you’d all bake cupcakes.
They didn’t turn out as great as you wished they would, but also weren’t half bad. They were a little flat and maybe a little toasted on the top, but were otherwise pretty edible. You covered them with some frosting and ate them as you finished the movie.
It turned out when you were done the Heffleys still hadn’t come back, so you decided to put the boys to sleep then. You came back to Ridrick looking at you at the other end of the hallway. 
“Hey,” you said, not expecting him to be there.
You stood there in silence for a few moments before he cleared his throat and started talking.
“Um do you wanna hang out? ‘Till they're back?” It was funny, with him. One moment he’d be full of confidence, flirting with you at the max, but, in a second, his entire demeanor would change and he’d look unsure, insecure to ask you anything.
You were starting to wonder if he wasn’t just being a stupid hormonal teenager and if he actually, maybe, had a little bit of a crush on you. But you wouldn’t entertain those thoughts, of course. First because you could be completely misinterpreting the situations, and second because you needed the job, and you hadn’t gotten enough of a read on his mom to know if she’d be cool with that.
Still, you did have nothing else to do but scroll through your phone as you waited. “Sure.”
“Oh! Cool. Uh, my room’s right there,” he pointed to a white door by his left, and you followed him in. It actually looked pretty cool. It was sort of exactly what you expected his room to look like, except maybe a little messier, if that was possible.
To each their own, I guess. It’s not like you were the cleanest person to ever walk the Earth. You sat down on his bed, and he opted to sit down on a beanbag just in front of you.
TIt's safe to say things were a little awkward. “Uh. So. Cool room.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
You studied the multiple posters he had glued to his walls. “Oh, The Cure. Cool.”
“Yeah. They’re not like super my style or anything. But they’re cool.”
“What would be your style?”
“I don’t know. Hard rock.”
“Huh. I don’t know. You just look like one of those guys who like rock but secretly listen to Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber or something when they’re alone.”
“What- what I would never- I don’t-” busted. 
You laughed at him as he tried to deny it. “I think it’s cool.”
He stopped. “You do?”
“Yeah. Taylor Swift’s cool.”
“Yeah uh. Girls dig that.”
“Do you really know what girls dig or do you just make random guesses?”
“I’m well-informed.”
“Oh are you? You have a girlfriend or something?” Subtle.
He scoffed. “Pfft. Yeah.”
“Uh- huh.”
He gave in. “No, I don’t.”
“Okay”
“You're a girl. What do you dig then?”
“What a romantic way to phrase that question. I guess I don’t know. Never stopped to think of it. What do you think we dig?”
“Uh. Bad boys?”
You let out a laugh. “Yeah I guess. But it depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether they’re nice to us.”
“So you want bad boys who are actually nice.”
“Yeah.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Uh. But I can be nice.”
“Who said you’re a bad boy to begin with?”
“Um rock band? Cool eyeliner?” He motioned to himself, mockingly.
“Well who do you wanna be nice for?”
“Uh. You? Obviously.”
Your smile faltered. There was the confidence making an appearance again.
“What?”
“Uh. You know. So I can uh- practice. For other... girls?”
“Right.”
“Or maybe not.”
“Okay I ‘m lost.”
“Do you wanna go out with me? ” He blurted out at rapid speed.
Okay, sudden much? “What?”
“Uh. We could… go to the movies or something? You seem to like movies.”
“Right. But as a… date?”
“Yeah.”
You thought about it. It was just a date, it’s not like his mom would get mad about a date, right?
“Sure.”
“What?”
“I said sure.”
His eyes widened, he didn’t seem to have been expecting a positive answer. “Oh! That’s cool! That's- cool.”
“Yeah. Cool.”
He began standing up. “Well, do you wanna-” In that very moment, before he could finish, the doorbell rang, and you made your way past him, running downstairs and getting the front door. 
“Y/N! How are we?”
You hoped the blush on your cheeks wasn’t as visible as it felt as you talked to her. “We’re great! Greg and Rowley are already in bed, Rodrick and I have been uh. Hanging out.”
“Oh that’s nice of him!” She turned to face her husband, who, in turn, grabbed your wrist. 
“What have you done to him? Are you some sort of witch?” He asked you.
You laughed awkwardly. “Oh it’s all him! He was showing me the posters in his room, we like the same bands!”
“Oh do you uh. Like rock too?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Well we’re taking too much of your time. Is Rodrick driving you home?”
Oh, right. Shit. He was.
“Yeah I uh, think so.”
With that, he walked into your view, holding up the van keys. He’d apparently put on shades, probably so his parents wouldn’t see he had eyeliner on.
“Why do you have sunglasses on?” Mr. Heffley asked him as he walked past them.
“It’s called fashion, dad!”
Mrs. Heffley handed you the money for the night, and you went on your way, getting into the van with Rodrick, who, by now, didn’t need the GPS to get to your place. Except he wasn’t driving to your place at all.
“What are you doing?”
“Wanted a slushie. That cool?”
“I guess.”
He stopped by a 7/11 and bought each of you a slushie and some chocolate bars, which you ate outside. The wind started to get harsher, and you crossed your arms around your chest for warmth. He caught on to that, taking his striped hoodie off and giving it to you. You looked up at him, confused.
“What?”
“You’re cold.”
“Yeah but you’ll be cold.”
“Rockstars don’t get cold.”
“You’re not a rockstar.”
“Not yet."
You raised an eyebrow at him, unamused.
"Just take it!” 
You did, and put it on. This one hung looser than the shirt you’d borrowed earlier. It did help. You tried your best to contain the smile that was insisting on forming on your lips. You knew it was dumb.
“Thanks,” you mumbled under your breath, and you could see him smirk, proud of himself. “You’re so cheesy. Wouldn’t take you for it.” 
“I’m not cheesy. I’m just not an asshole.”
“You kinda are.”
“Shut up!”
You ate in silence for a bit before you decided to say what was on your mind. “Hey about that date?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t… I don’t know if we should do it.”
He tried to seem chill about it, but he looked a little hurt. “Why?”
“Well it’s not that I don’t want to! I do. For… some reason,” you added, trying to lighten up the mood. “But do you think your mom would be cool with it? I mean I don’t wanna lose this job and I don’t know if she’d really like us being alone if we’re dating.”
His face lit up. “So you’re thinking about dating me?”
Oh, you’d messed up big time now, he’d never let this go. “No! That’s not what I meant!”
“I think it is.”
“Fuck off!”
“Oh we’re using big boy words now?” He grinned.
“Shut up.”
“Well. Don’t think that should be a problem. They don’t have to know.”
“What do you mean?”
“What, do you tell your parents everything? They don’t have to know we’re dating.”
“Yeah but we’re not dating.”
“Not yet.”
“Shut up!”
“They don’t have to know we’re going on a date, then. Plus, the days you work can be like little dates.”
“Yeah except there will be two children up our asses.”
“You can manage.”
“Fine, Heffley. But if I lose my job you’ll be owing me. Like literal money.”
“Deal.”
“Cool.”
“Yeah. Cool.”
[. . .]
A/N: sometimes ur 20 pages into a diary of a wimpy kid rodrick heffley oneshot and you ask urself wtf am i doing with my life. this is the product of that. i wrote this THREE YEARS AGO WOW so i edited some of it to post it here but nothing major cause i didn't want it to lose its energy lol. btw i was in fact like. actually in high school at the time lmao. luv yall!
623 notes · View notes
millerscoffee · 9 months
Note
reader lives in jackson and is friends with tommy, so she sees joel relatively frequently, and they just DONT get along. the reader is young and she’s got a sharp tongue and cheek that irritates the shit out of joel, who shoots back just as much condescending insults. they literally can’t be in a room without getting into it. however, the reader does it for his attention (she’s got daddy issues), and joel doesn’t catch onto this until she’s knocking on his door at midnight because she can’t sleep and she needs him and she doesn’t know how to admit it. he pulls her in the house and absolute filth ensues. he makes her blow him and then they fuck. joel is smug and condescending the whole time, and reader just becomes a ragdoll. Size kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, creampie/breeding, the works PLEASE
you got it, anon! ✨ this was requested on @atticrissfinch's page too, go check it out! i love how the same request can elicit two different stories. i did my best not to read it before i finished this (it was as difficult as it sounds cos HOO BOI 😅🥵♡)
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only daddy that'll walk the line
6.2k | joel miller x f!reader
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rating: 18+ MDNI
warning: big mean dom!joel™️ lmao, alcoholism (reader's dad, but also drunk!joel for a second - **this is not in the smutty scenes**), parental abuse (verbal, it is brief), smut, age difference (joel is 56, reader is 18-early 20s - your choice), size kink, dirty talk (joel's a talker more than his usual grunty self), name calling (bitch, brat, slut, etc.), light praise kink & like- two pet names, ✨ degrading language and acts ✨, edging, choking/gagging, hair pulling, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, spitting kink!!!, spanking, oral (m receiving), no prepping the reader, brat tamer!joel, bratty reader, if i missed anything lmk
summary: based in jackson, you have the unfortunate predicament of being friends with tommy miller and hating his brother, joel – and you have no problem in letting either of them know that! until one night you are brought to joel's doorstep.
A/N: this is my first request! thank you! huzzah!! hopefully it's to your liking, nonnie. he's big mean dom!joel™️ but with a conscience yknow?? enjoy ♡ i did proofread this, but i wrote it over the course of a couple weeks. i did my best! lol
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"Dude, what's his fucking problem!?"  You roll into the dining hall in a huff.  Shuffling to your seat for dinner, you slam your tray down and Maria gives you a combined look of worry and irritation at peace being compromised.
"Who, honey?"  Tommy asks, handing you a glass of water with an entertained grin because he's positive he knows just who you're talking about.
He'd seen the two of you go at each other's throats earlier in the day when you were trying to get by him on your way out the door.  His back was to you, and he all but ignored your request to get out of the way.  Causing you to shove past him, which ensued an argument between the two of you.  Which led you to both of you gunning each other with your words until you both left in a bad mood.
Joel had his back to you, his frame fully in the doorway as he spoke with a woman in town.  It started off slow: a few clearings of your throat, a slight nudge of his back.  No avail.
"Excuse me," you shouted, pushing at him again before he finally turned around quickly with his jaw ticked.
"Do you have any manners, Christ."  He said dry and muttered under his breath, but the lady made room for you and you nodded politely in her direction.
"Maybe if you weren't so fucking old, you could've heard me!"
"And watch your fuckin' mouth."
Joel turned his back to you, not giving you a moment to retort.  Conversation over. 
"This fucker," when you look up, you see Joel coming towards the table.  The sight of him gives you a set of shivers you can't explain.  Not complete disgust, but certainly not excitement.
"You really oughta keep better company," Joel tells his brother, sitting down beside him, he frames his entire body towards Tommy so he's sitting in a way to make you feel ignored.
"I'm right here, you know."  Your head is moving so you're in the line of his vision.
"Don't remind me.  Listen, this is a family dinner.  Go find your own."
A slap in the face would've hurt less.  Before Tommy or Maria had the chance to come to your defences – both of their mouths open ready to take up for you – you stood up, shoving your tray over to Joel.  So loud, other people turn their gaze to the four of you.
"Fuckin– eat up, then."
As you storm off to your house, you hear Tommy scold his older brother but you don't look back.
---
The next morning, your father wakes you up to the sound of his own yelling for you to come downstairs.  You'd been helping out Maria and Tommy to get your own place, or at least a shared one with people your age and to hear your dad's voice; whiskey-soaked and cruel, makes your stomach churn.
After slipping on your clothes for the day, you make it to the kitchen where he's sitting at the table and reeking from alcohol even from where you're standing.
"Didn't you hear me call you?"  His words were slurred and angry.
"Yes, I'm sorry."  It's such a difference from how you talk to other people, talk to Joel, for example.  Maybe because he's the last person you spoke to, but he's the first one who pops into your head during this interaction.  You sound meek, scared to say something wrong.  A stark difference from how you speak to Joel – abandoning all worries of punishment.  Almost like you wanted that from him.
"Fuckinbetterbe – hiccup – breakfast.  Now."  Your dad all but snaps his fingers and rage creeps up the back of your throat, biting your tongue so hard you break the surface layer.  A slight streak of blood coats your mouth, but you do as you're told.
This morning is kinder than others.  Your dad did not say thank you for the pancakes, you didn't get hit or debased too much.  You consider it a win.  Once you leave your house as soon as you can, Joel's chest hits your face as soon as you turn the corner.  The milliseconds seem long when you're met with the warmth and solidity of his chest, the scent of cedar and... whiskey?  It seemed too early, even for him, to be drinking and you shake off the unreasonable rationale that he should be treated differently than your father for the same behaviour.
You ignore the similarities of him and your father all together, actually.
"Watch where you're goin'," Joel's brows are knit together, which is normal for him, but you've never been this close to see his lips from this angle above you.  You almost say something out of the ordinary for the two of you, but you reel it in quickly.
"You're one to fuckin' talk.  Morning coffee smells a lot like alcohol.  Maybe I should tell Tommy about your habits."
"Does it ever hurt your head bein' a bitch all the time?"
"Not as bad as that hangover will be around noon.  Move."
You push past the large build in front of you with a clenched jaw, unable to be around him a second longer.  "Fuck you, Joel," you mutter for good measure on your way to Tommy and Maria's.
They'd given you safety on days when it seemed scarce, and showing up felt appropriate.  You were a little closer with Tommy than Maria.  He was able to listen to you without being too judgy, and you needed that.  The lack of safety piece was a lot like how your day started off.  You walk around to the back where Tommy's working on a new hobby and you sit in front of him, letting out a big sigh.
"Y'daddy givin' you trouble again?"
Typically when Tommy asks about your father he says it like this, but today it catches you off guard.  Confusion twists your mind, but you nod distractedly.  "Yea, he was drunk this morning.  Your brother, too."
You slide that one in fast.
Tommy fists through his hair, letting out a heavy exhale.  "Shit.  We both got trouble this mornin', I guess."
"Seems like it."
You're unusually quiet, looking at the ground more than anything.  It bugs you that Joel and your father have a similar quality to them.  That they both are up reaching for the bottle, but for Joel it's not a common occurrence and that makes you worried – an emotion you don't have for him that often, if you're being honest.  You don't think about his experiences that often.  But this is the first time, really, you've even seen Joel drunk like that.  You remember Tommy mentioning that he'd given up the stuff since Sarah's passing when everyone was around a fire one night sharing stories.
As if the dots connect in real time, you look over to Tommy who looks worried sick.
"He'll figure it out,"  you reassure, chewing the inside of your cheek before heading out.  You call behind you, "I'll be around."
You've never really been good at the whole 'being there for someone' thing.
~~
Later on, you find yourself in the mess hall again for the night's dinner and you catch Maria, Tommy, Joel, and Ellie all together and it feels weird to sit with them.  They're all laughing, Joel looks sobered up.  And it seems that Tommy didn't bring up the conversation the two of you shared.  They look like a happy family and twists a knot in your throat and the proverbial knife at your side.
"Can I please spend the night at Tommy and Maria's?  Please?"  Ellie is looking over at Joel with the sweetest expression, you snicker to yourself at how menacing she actually was.  It seemed to do the trick, though.  Joel's eyes flicker over to you, and it feels like you're being caught for something.  The look is inculpatory without you doing anything.  As if to say you are witnessing something too personal, a side of him not meant for you.  "Yeah, sure," his response to Ellie sounds distant.
This gives you no choice but to walk up to the scene, to sit down beside Maria.  She gives you a welcoming grin and makes space for you.  "What'd I miss?"  You look over to Ellie who's excited to see you, but Joel?  Not so much.  His eyebrows narrow down his face, suddenly more quiet than usual, even for him.  You set your sights back on Ellie who's telling you all of the cool things she's gonna do at her Uncle Tommy's and you flash a smile that lets her know you're listening.  Or at least trying.  It's hard when Joel isn't even initiating the usual conflict with each other.  More arguing than speaking.  And the fact it wasn't happening was off.
"That sounds like a blast...," you trail off, your chin in your hands.
"If you're not gonna listen to her, don't ask her questions."  Joel barks, eyes now solemnly black in your direction.  It makes you scared and delighted at once.  Like he was back to normal.  Your normal.
"I was listening to her?"  You retort, and everyone's quiet now.  Awkwardness filling the air as the two of you battle it out.  "Maybe if you weren't so drunk all the time you'd know the differen–"  "Hey, now."  Tommy chimes in, giving you a stern look of disapproval and you feel bad.  Reflective.  Joel wasn't drunk all the time, and you knew exactly why he was this morning.
You exhale, "I'm sorry," you nod in the direction of everyone but Joel and stand up from your seat, "enjoy your family time."
On your way back to your house, you catch a glimpse of a group of people your age.  People you'd grown up with, but they didn't acknowledge you and it digs the wound closer in.  You truly felt alone.  Like nothing fit, and maybe you didn't belong in Jackson but it wasn't like there were many choices to go to.
---
More times than not you sneak into your room.  Not because you are past a type of curfew, you were an adult.  It was more, you didn't want your dad to know you were around.  Your door was locked when you climbed in through the window.
You got comfortable, spilling out of your clothes for the day and into your pajamas.  Cotton shorts and a loose tee.  Your breasts perky and nipples taut from the worn fabric.  A lot of the day was spent dealing with heavy subjects that you just wanted to let your mind escape.
Staring at the ceiling in your bed, your eyes become blurry in need of sleep.  Needing release.  Anything.
Your mind wanders to why Joel was so quiet with you when you sat down.  It wasn't like that was the first time the two of you had a shouting match in front of everyone, but this felt different.  You deduce it to Joel having an off day and let your mind wander somewhere else.
Or, at least you try.
Because when your hands explore your body under the blankets, Joel comes back to life in your thoughts.  You come back to the warmth of his chest when you ran into him this morning, the grunt that left him from impact.  What that would sound like against your ear.  Before you know it, you're shifting your thighs together, spreading the mess of your cunt.  A craving ignites your bloodstream.
It's slick between your legs when you sit up, and you're full of determination unbeknownst of where it's coming from.  The act itself is a little heady, but you have nothing to lose so why not?
Slipping on a pair of shoes and a jacket that covers your clothes, you turn your back to the window and scurry down until you're able to jump off onto the grass.  One step close to where you want to be.
Joel's house is across the street which makes it easy to get to, but aggravating when you want a sense of peace.  He's always around, shooting you a menacing stare when you're not down each other's throats but there's an ache you can't deny.  A compulsion.
You knock on his door twice before he swings it open almost like he saw you approach, but he doesn't tug you inside like you thought he was.  Doesn't make you get on your knees or fulfill any fantasy of being used.  Of... making him proud.
"What?"  His question is dry and a part of you is crushed. He isn't taking advantage of the way your legs look in your shorts right away.
"You're not the only one who had a bad fucking day," you start, but he doesn't give you a moment to push through the door because before you know it you're being pulled inside.  The sound of a slamming door somewhere behind you.  You're forced to look at him with his paw wrapped around your jaw, thumb tilting your chin up effortlessly.  It locks you in place.
"You came here.  Why?  Y'want me to fuck your bad day away?"
You gape is panicked, eyes wide now in this compromising position.  You can't think, you can't nod or say words.  You just stare.
"She's real fuckin' quiet now," Joel shoves you against the closed door, not letting an inch of space be wasted and he takes your wrist with his free hand, palming you over his hardening cock in his jeans.  "How about now.  You payin' close attention?"
You whimper, nodding softly as your fingers massage and rub, tug at anything you can through the fabric.
"Did I tell you y'could do that?"  His words make you pause, shivering at how truly empty your mind is in the moment.  Even in your inexperience you don't know you've ever felt so instantly timid.  Joel makes you fold at the first hint of misbehaviour.  You can't think of a thing to say.  Halfway don't know why you're here in the first place, and he's got you so wet from this it almost hurts.  Stickiness coats your thighs as you squeeze your legs together and you're sure it will be obvious even through your cotton shorts.
You shake your head, and he's sick of you not speaking to him.  Squeezes your face tighter, "Use your fucking words."
"No... no you didn't," you manage and you've never heard yourself sound so pathetic.
"I didn't, that's right.  You answer to me."  The snapping sound of his words causes your eyes to roll in annoyance.  He doesn't own you, he never fucking could.  The action makes his jaw tighten, his hand from your jaw in a grip that didn't hurt now is wrapped around your throat and although it's not tight, it certainly isn't loose.  "What the fuck was that?"
You're back to being silent, unable to do anything but take.
"Not asking again."
"I rolled my ey–"
"You rolled your eyes.  Roll your fuckin' eyes at me again, little girl.  You'll regret it."
A cool threat, you think.  Meaningless, even.  What possible reproach would he have anyway?
It's then you take in the house.  You'd been here once before to stay with Ellie.  It's dark, a single lamp upstairs.  All of this is background noise to the drone of your need prickling your youthful skin.  It's apparent, your age difference, when you're this close.  His rough fingers, wrinkles catching the moonlight peeking in through the windows.
"I–I'm sorry," you've been saying that a lot lately.
"Don't apologise to me.  Don't say sorry when I know you're not."  His thumb moves from your chin to your lips, thumbing over just how pliable and soft they are and it sends your nerves to the surface.  Prying your lips apart, he presses inside and you willingly wrap your lips around it to lap the pad of his digit.  "Look at that sweet thing," he says, more at you than to you, and your neck flushes being this willing to suck for him, "so easy for me to use.  I put my thumb to y'er lips and you just took it right in, didn't ya?"  The taste of his skin robs you of any other sense, his tone making you all but fold.
"Show me what this mouth is good for, 'cuz it sure ain't good at a sincere apology."
Before you know it, you're on your knees.  Joel is kind enough that he ushers you down onto the hardwood floor and you can't believe you're face to face with his crotch in front of his door, no less.
"You couldn't wait to take me to your bedroom?"
Joel doesn't reply straight away.  Instead you hear the clanking of metal, a zipper coming undone, and the slap of his cock hitting his abdomen on the way out of his pants.  You take mental note that he hasn't been asleep by his attire, but it's all for nothing when your eyes make out the shapes in the dim light.  You choke when you see just how big he is.
He tuts, leaning his head condescendingly as he takes a chunk of your hair in his palm to tilt your chin up to greet his cock.  "Aw, you think you're goin' t'my room?"  The words make you feel naïve, the one or two times you've done something like this didn't have nearly as much... compromise.  And you certainly didn't hook up with someone twice your age.  You don't have time to be self-conscious because the head of him, the leaky head of him, is tapping against your lips and your eyes roll back as you open your mouth for him.  After jumping slightly in surprise, of course.
He sighs in relief with a deigned smile, pushing his hips further.  "Fuck.  You hear that?  Nothing!  Sounds so fuckin' good, shuttin' you up."
But it's not entirely nothing, is it?  Not with your gagging, slurping up what you can but you don't know what you're doing all the way and fumbling through half of it.  Doesn't seem to faze him much.
It's obscene as it feels, him using you like this – and you don't feel an ounce of guilt when it's exactly what you want.  The switch flips on why you came to his door in the first place.  His big thumb swipes over the corner of your full mouth, "You like that, dontcha, filthy thing?"
And you hated how right he was.  You wanted to scream, kick him.  Retaliate in a way so you could still be in this submission at the same time.
Your mouth was full by the earthy taste of him, obliterating whatever feelings you had about the day.  A bad mood that he had contributions in, but it's melting from the constant thrust of his hips.  And he's keeping your head locked in place, hand gripped in the strands so you can feel your spit mingling with the underside of his cock.  Honestly, every part of his dick is covered in your spit.  It spills down your chin, threatens up your nose when you gag, leaves your eyes to water when you look up at him in a dire need to breathe fully, but he's not done with you.
Not until the loudest, lewdest pop from your mouth you've ever heard does Joel break contact completely.  Steps back until you're being observed in a patronising way.  Your gone expression.  All saliva and tears and his precum smeared over your mouth.  You can barely bring yourself to look up, but his demands seem to do the trick.
Snapping his fingers at you to get your attention, you swallow hard.  "Nuh uh.  You're not gonna get all soft on me, girl.  Wake the fuck up."
Which would be simple if he wasn't practically dragging you by your hair, making you crawl on your hands and knees until you're on your feet and you're shoved onto his couch.
All that and you're still dressed.
"Off," he's barking commands like you're a trainable being and if you were in any other state, you may reconsider this whole ordeal, but when he pushed you onto the couch your legs spread just enough for him to see the wetness smearing the cotton at the apex of your thighs and that amuses him. "not good at hidin' how much of a slut y'are."
"You think it's just you that does this to me?" You find your voice again, hoisting yourself up to sit on his couch as his cock – thick and proud – sways against the fabric caught between it.  Your tongue presses to your cheek when you make eye contact, "You're kidding yourself."
The venom drips so fluidly from your tongue, Joel doesn't make a sound.  Just peels off his clothes until he's standing there naked in his house, giving you living proof that you are kidding yourself.
The silence speaks for itself.  He is pure smug under the sight of your drooling gaze.
"It's real cute that you think y'got control over the situation n'all," the weight shifting on this couch from the cushion shaping around his knee.  Joel sits down, taking you by the scalp again to cloak you over his lap stomach-first, and you yelp in surprise when he does all of this and tugs your shorts down in one fell swoop.
With your hair in his fist, his other hand ghosts over your ass in effort to make sure you squirm for him before administering a devilishly loud spank to your ass.  "But somebody better teach you better manners.  Sure as shit itn’t your father."
You crack out a sob at that– from the contact and the truth.  You couldn't retort, you were too busy getting slap after slap against your increasingly worn ass to think about anything else.  "Lucky I ain't making y'count.  You'd have this for eternity now."
Not that it mattered anyway.  He's leaving mark after mark of his large handprint across your cheeks, probably ten more if you could even focus on anything else but finding the words to stop him.
"Please– y-you're right," tears stain your face as you bury your face in your arms.  Flinching when Joel moves, you expect another searing punishment, but instead he pulls your ass apart and you gasp at the cool air striking your cunt that's hot and wet for him.  "Joel!"
“Dirty fuckin’ girl, wet from gettin’ punished.  I talked so bad about you, and you liked it?  You’re as desperate as I thought.  Only good for gettin’ my cock wet.”  And it’s like a lever is pulled when your slutty little smile plasters over your face with him out of view.  Not that you had much time to gloat, or to experience the pleasure of living in your own fantasy because Joel’s got you pulled again.  His thick thighs spread apart when he maneuvers you so willingly to sit between his legs.  Right where he wants you.  Right where you can feel the throbbing pulse at your folds.  He tells you to take off the rest of your clothes and you would be a fool to do otherwise.
“Bad girls don’t get the luxury of bein’ opened,” that Texan drawl slips over your ear when he holds the base of his cock, slicking himself through your folds, you gasp and wriggle against him – his grip tightening harder.  Silently warning you if you make another move it’s over, you’re done.  It’s over.  All the while the searing stretch of him causes your cunt to flutter and clench around him.  It’s too much, too overwhelming, and he won’t let you adjust long enough.  “You’ll get over it,” but it’s not reassuring.  He still sounds in control despite his laboured breathing and when he can, he moves his hands to grip your hips and guide you down on him.  You scream, a knee jerk response wriggle away from him, but this position doesn’t quite allow for that.
“Be a good girl.”
That folds you, quite literally, as he moves his hips down to pound up into yours, using you like his own toy to get himself off with.  And it’s just the incredible sounds of your squelching cunt and his balls tapping against your folds.  The fucking isn’t frantic, but it certainly isn’t soft.  He’s rough with you, a hand traveling up your back to grip your hair so your neck is back in place and he lifts you upright so your back is curved, neck craned so if you tried, you could make him out – upside down.  “Poor thing couldn’t help it, had to get a daddy to take care of her.  You want that, kitten?  Wanna be used and as daddy’s little fucktoy – only good for makin’ me cum?”  his hand sneaks around to the front of you with his free hand, he presses and digs into your pubic bone to make you feel exactly where he is.  “Put a baby right here.  Make everyone know what you fuckin’ did.”
You whine, eyes rolling back at the thought.  It was so obscene, nothing like you’d ever even heard of before.  Where did he fucking learn how to talk like this?  Your brain is swimming while your sticky sweetness coats his lap, clawing at his thighs for any sort of stability, but it was dizzying how he had you.  How his grunts filled the air in between slaps like he had your hips placed at the perfect angle for him to work you.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”  His gritting teeth by the shell of your ear, he keeps you secure within your hair to snake his arm around the front of you tugging and rolling at the sensitive nubs of your nipples.  When he feels you appear to drift off, those rough hands supply another smack, but to your tits this time, your fingernails clawing into his thighs involuntarily as you squeal in surprise.  You tighten at that, fluttering around his cock and you feel it at the edge.  So close you can almost taste it.
But he knows you’re close, too, and there’s no way in hell he’s giving that to you.  Not when you’ve barged into his house like this, not when you’ve done nothing but be an insufferable brat to him since the moment he came to Jackson.
Joel hovers you over his lap, and your heels dig into the floorboard.  His hips still, keeping the very tip of his cock inside of you – you feel panic flash over your body.  “No,” it’s the first word you’ve uttered in god knows how long and it sounds desperate.  Any hope of getting an orgasm swirls down the drain, and it’s set in stone when he pushes you on your back – the lumpy couch digging into your skin.  “No, no, please.  Why!”
His eyes could burn a hole through you.  Like a hungry dog, his body hovers – shoulders stooped, head down when he pours his gaze into you.  And he likes what he sees.  Legs open and begging, willing to do anything to get him back into you.  Your cunt glistening, even in the dull light and he can tell it’s pulsing.  “Poor thing’s clampin’ around nothin’,” he teases, grunting when his knees meet the couch cushions – another tell of his age.  But you, you’re too preoccupied in taming the ache between your legs to comment.  It burns, coming back to a fixed state you realise how stretched out you were and it’s more than overwhelming.  To know you haven’t been used to completion, all hope draining from your face.
“Joel,” your breath is shaky underneath him, pupils blown and wet when you make out his features, “Joel, please.  Please, I want this.”
“Darlin’, I know you want it.  Everybody in town knows you want it,” his words make you sob a whine as they approach closer to your neck, the delicate graze of his beard dances at your pulsepoint and you shudder.  Hips raise and he’s quick to slam them back down into place.  “If you want me, ‘Joel’ ain’t whatchu say to get me.”
And if you felt hopeless before, you really do now.  Unable to do anything but debase yourself for your own pleasure.  You’d heard it earlier, the way he referred to himself with a name that brought up mixed feelings at Tommy’s.  You swallow down embarrassment, looking him in the eyes – which were faded obsidian, your fingernails dig into your own thighs as if to brace for what’s tempting to slip out of your throat.
You hated that he made you nervous.
And you hated the hold he had over you.
But he had it, there was no doubt about it.  He had it.  He had you.
Your jaw ticks forward, fully aware of your clit screaming for attention and exhale shakily.  “Please, daddy.  Please, I want this.”
“Eh,” Joel muses, shaking his head, “I don’t believe ya.  Really gotta hear the desperation in your voice.  Maybe if I,” his hand reaches for his cock, slapping the sloppy head of it against your folds and that– that sends you.  Takes you to a different destination entirely because for the first time all night there’s attention to that bundle of nerves, and he knows it.  He knows you need this in order to give everything over to him in full.  “Daddy!” you screech, pelvis jutting up in full inclination and without a single word, Joel’s cock spears into you all the way to the hilt.  All the way to your cervix.
His hands, emitting heat and wrapped largely around your hips, locks you where he wants you like some animal in heat.  It forces you to bring your legs up into a position you aren’t sure you’ve ever been in – thighs against your stomach, by your sides.  It’s so, “deep,” you whimper, head rocking as your mouth flies open and he’s delivering you thrust after thrust of pleasure so wrecking no noise comes from you.
“Is that what you needed? Fuckin' brat,”  Joel is still able to tease, but even he isn’t immune to how tight you are around him.  Your fluttering core begging for release as it moves in and out around him – as if it’s doing its own begging.  “You wanna be filled up to the brim with my cum, babygirl?  Needy fucking cunt like you only good for matin’ like this.”  Your skin burns at his words, your body convulsing as you do your best to keep it together.
That’s when Joel’s hand wraps around your throat, a line of spit falling into your mouth and you willingly drink from him.  “You hold off, you ain’t gettin’ it tonight,” you pout for a moment, not fully understanding what he means by that, but he clarifies when his hips get sharper, more precise.  As if his cock is hooked inside of you, not letting a drip of precum spill out of you against your cervix.  “Y’ain’t cummin’, but I am.”
His grip around your throat gets harder, and you swear you can see every vein in his face rise to the surface when he uses you.  You’re limp, all thoughts washed away – his cock thick and long, you aren’t even sure how he fits it all inside of you but he does.  The edge of your stomach bulges as he works you, his neck cranes back to expose his neck and it’s too much to take. For both of you.  His hot cum ropes cords inside of you, sticking to your walls.  Filling you up is an understatement with how much he has to give you.  It’s as if you can discern the moment his seed grazes your cervix in its sticky texture.  Your head is swimming at the sound of your animalistic grunts, he looks so… fucking hot like this.  His name is replaced with ‘daddy’ more easily than you care to admit.  You do try not to chase your orgasm… a part of you does, anyway.
But you’re defiant.
You can take yourself there without him telling you to, and in fact the opportunity to disobey him is just what you need to send yourself creaming all over his cock.  You gasp, eyes wide before they roll back and you’re fucking yourself on his spent cock that somehow still has life to it.  Even for his age, he can still keep it hard for you after his seed coats your insides.  “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” becomes part of your breath, and you’re shocked he doesn’t pull out of you even though his hips are still.  You don’t notice it until you come down considering you’re using him.  Did he say you could do that?  As if you’re woken up by an alarm, you jerk at the sensation of the orgasm you snuck.  Without his permission.  You look up, and his knuckles are bleached around your hips.  He looks so menacing like this, scary.  You shake your head, swallowing hard in your attempt to fix things.
But it’s too late for you.  You’re a brat at the end of the day, and he has to train you.  Make you realise the error of your ways.
His cock is still buried deep when his middle finger plays where the two of you connect.  A whine escapes you, shivering now, not quite sure what he’s going to do.  He’s lethally quiet, you aren’t sure how to react.  He’s contemplating what to do to you, he’s not met someone who’s as menacing as he is.  As unwilling to give away freedom.  Not since… his nostrils flare as he inhales.
“I told you not to do that,” Joel stating the obvious makes you clear your throat, his cock twitching inside you in the aftershocks sends your teeth to bite down on your lip and you shake your head, “I c- I couldn’t help it!” You lie, and he knows it.  Compels him to prod that middle finger just above his cock inside you and the stretch is too much.  When you reach out for his forearm, his other hand darkens over your wrist, pinning it back in a way that hurts.  You wince in tandem with it and his monstrous hook of the digit inside you.  You’re so full, “It’s too-it’s too much!” you tap at anything you can, but he’s not listening.
Instead, the pad of his finger has no problem in touching that spongy bit inside of you – especially since your cunt is stretched from his cock and he can see it.  His cum tempts to pool out of you, but he shoves it back in, working his finger inside you repeatedly but he’s just rubbing.  He’s just rolling his finger against your g-spot until you feel so overstimulated it brings more pain than pleasure.  “Came like you knew what you were doin’,” he finally remarks, thumb rolling over your clit and you can’t take it.  “Please, pl– it’s too much!  Daddy!”  That rhythm is sly, though, in making you come undone.  Again and again.  As you’re on the peak of what would be an explosive orgasm, Joel pulls out of you entirely.  His cock, his finger.  His warmth is a distant memory when he stands up, palming over his cock.  How did he get hard again?!  He would deal with that on his own time.
Your moan is choked out, thighs pressing together for any sort of… something.  A release, a grind.  You’re left panting and begging, your tits perky and heaving for him.
“What did I say, little girl?”  He climbs into his clothes, one button up at a time with his flannel.  “You won’t be cumming for a week with that fuckin’ attitude.”
You’re so lost in chasing a feeling, soon to disappear as it could arrive that all you can do is whimper and nod.  “I’m so–” his hand grips your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.  Spit covers your face, and you hum like a kitten at the feeling of his hot saliva down your cheek, “What did I fucking say about apologisin’ when you’re not sorry?”
You wipe your face, sucking the spit off your thumb with a satisfied smirk.  “Fuckin’ loved it, daddy.”
He swallows then, his head shaking in disbelief over how much of a filthy bitch you are.  “Yeah, yeah you fuckin’ did.  Belong to me now, you understand?  Gonna let everybody know what a slut you are for this cock.”
And you would be lying if you didn’t experience a swell of pride in those words.  You’d be down each other’s throats again in no time, but the look of ownership that adorns his face over you is too much not to bask in.
“A week?”  You study him, eyes wet and round, look up at him and you see his cheek twitch in response.
“Gonna be two if you keep it up.”
You let out a faint sigh, resting your head back on the armrest.  “Yes, daddy.”
“Good girl,” he coos, leaning down to press his lips at the shell of your ear.  Fingers tucking his cum back in your hole.  He relishes in how hot you feel under his fingers.
“Now get the fuck out of my house.”
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deadghosy · 2 months
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MORE OF TRAILBLAZER!READER PLS PLS PLS PLS PLSSS, WHAT DOES THE ANGELS THINK OF TRAILBLAZER!READER???
HAZBIN HOTEL ANGELS X TRAILBLAZER! READER
prompt: how they viewed you in heaven was something no one excepted an angel like you to act.
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I just gotta say. You are a fucking menace.
When you first appeared in heaven as the most beautiful thing with your golden eyes and two pair of wings….you weren’t the most nicest as you were too blunt.
“Is this a flash bang? Why the hell is it so bright here.”
everyone gasped at the H word as if this was kindergarten all over again
*cue you need to leave sound*
Sera had to put a few rules in your face. Literally a whole ass rule book as you sat there with a blank face saying. “Are you effing Fr?” Sera nodded and left leaving you with this HUMONGOUS ASS BOOK THAT REMINDED YOU OF FAIRLY ODD PARENTS
Sera founded you as a troubled youth that needs to see the rules all over again to see the true potential for you to stay in heaven.
Emily didn’t think of you being a troublemaker, she found you quite cool as you explored around heaven having the bravery to speak your mind and not let anything bring you down.
Emily and you got along great and fine as she calls you her little collector as you call her…just Em.
It was a late heavenly night as you stood up from your bed as you did a barrel roll for your balcony as you were starving for some digging. You rummage through the dumpster to find a nice old pearly necklace and a bracelet. “Emily would love this…” you said as you smiled not noticing a blonde haired lady watching you with an asumed smile.
The blonde haired lady from afar found you mysteriously cute and attractive as you roam the streets of heaven. 
ADAM HATES YOUR FUCKING GUTS😭😭
It all started when you was digging in trash. It was basically flirting for you to dig through it. *cue fuck boy face* AND THEN ADAM HAD SNUCK BEHIND YOU READY TO INSULT YOU-
But you kicked him straight in his fucking chin-
That horse ass kick gave him a bruise on his chin for legit 2 weeks
You once blasted music in your apartment…I mean shit it was good music you got from the human world you use to live in. You got so much noise complaints but thanks to Emily, she made it seem like you weren’t causing issues.
Lute has no opinions on you, she just doesn’t have time to even look at you. Even though you sometimes break in her place to eat all her food like the raccoon you are.
One day you actually caused trouble in heaven just because you decided to dig in a lady’s trash bin from outside.
“HEY GET OUT OF MY DARN TRASH BIN YOU RACCOON!” An angel yelled from her window throwing her boom at you as you swung your metal bat at her that you totally didn’t find in the trash nights ago…..
The lady screamed ducking as the bat went back into your grasp like a boomerang. “THATS IT! IM CALLING THE GUARDS!”
And so that was your cue to run as if your life depended on it as you thrown a rotten banana peel you found in your pocket. You still had one in your mouth.
And that’s how your 1 month trial ended because you fought bitches for your trash.
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